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uncookedfeeler · 2 months ago

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Cok's adventure I 🐙

Giselle

Tags : 3k3, Idol Giselle, story, a bit of Smut, creature kink,

Part 2

Seoul, May 28, 2024,

The night sky was clear, sparkling with countless stars, when a streak of light pierced the silence. Like a cosmic firework, a small spaceship looped and whirled before diving toward Earth. Unknown to the city's inhabitants, a small piece of space was about to collide with their urban lives.

"Thank you for your hard work," the Aespa girls say out of breath as they bow to the staffs in front of them. The girls have just finished their last performance of the day and are leaving the stage through the back. The sound of heels echoes in the hallway as they make their way back to their lounge, followed by their managers.

As soon as they enter the room, the girls collapse on the black sofa at the back of the room, between the various makeup stations, and enjoy a well-deserved rest.

"You've done a great job, that's all for today. Get dressed for departure in 30 minutes," says the manager. But determined to enjoy the sofa for a few more minutes, the girls drag their feet, except for Giselle who, in a rush of motivation, grabs her bags and heads for the dressing room.

The cabin is spacious and can accommodate several people. There is a large mirror on the wall. Giselle puts her bags on the nearby table and takes off her black boots, which lower her a few inches and allow her two beautiful feet to breathe. Although she loves this kind of footwear, she's very happy with the feeling of walking barefoot on the cold floor. A pair of white mittens follows, as does her necklace. All that's left is her black T-shirt showing off her two buddies, and a pink, white, and black military skirt, all tied together with pretty white and silver leather straps.

Giselle spreads the straps over her shoulders and finally lets them fall, still tied to her skirt. She is finally free from the torment of pleasure that is the constant rubbing of the straps against her sensitive nipples. She unzips the front of her skirt. There's a metallic sound on the floor and a cold sensation in her thighs. She grabs the bottom of her T-shirt and pulls it up, rubbing the underside of her breasts as they begin to jiggle.

She looks at herself in the mirror, her body now in sports underwear, her skirt still at foot level, and immediately notices the presence of someone behind her, a pretty Korean woman, still exhausted from her day, stands behind her and their eyes meet. The two women exchange a smirk.

"Karina-unni, you scared me!! Are you here to enjoy the show? you've come at the perfect time," says Giselle, not at all worried about her member's presence in the cabin.

Karina leans against the wall behind her and looks at Giselle “well, I see you still like to make a spectacle of yourself, Mr. Mirror is lucky to have such a slut for himself” she knows that Giselle loves this kind of situation and never hesitates to tease her when she can.

Giselle turns and faces Karina, whose back and ass are now visible in the mirror's reflection. Although she's used to seeing the other members in revealing outfits in her dorm, Karina finds herself staring at the perfectly round bottom of the woman in front of her. The image of a juicy peach comes to Karina's mind. Giselle realizes her effect on the leader and decides to finish her off immediately. The woman picks up her gray panties and bends over to pull them down. As she takes her time pulling them down, Giselle reveals more and more of herself, and Karina's eyes widen as she sees a round, ruby shape pressed into Giselle's butt.

“Meet my friend,” says Giselle with a big smile, Karina is now all red, she didn't expect Giselle to be wearing an anal plug at all during their working days. “You're such a slut, hurry up and change, the others are coming.” Karina replies. "What's the rush, you're the one who came unannounced, look how my ass is taking it so well," she jiggles her ass against the mirror, "imagine if it was a fake mirror and someone was watching us now," Karina struggles to answer and gets ready to leave when all of a sudden, the manager knocks on the door and tells the girls to hurry up.

The show is over, Giselle changes out of her underwear and into a stylish yet casual outfit, a simple oversized sweater, jeans and a cap to hide her face. She steps out of the cabin and comes face to face with Winter and Ningning, who are surprised to see Karina with a flushed face. They enter the cabin while Giselle lies down on the sofa by herself.

As she leaves the building with the 3 other girls, Giselle asks her manager if she can make a detour to the mall. Giselle had always been in the good graces of her managers, the image of a nice, calm girl was just a facade for her darker impulses. her manager has no reason to refuse and goes ahead with the girls, Giselle is now alone. The adrenaline of the performance is still pumping through her veins and the night has covered the city in soft shadows, tonight she wants to escape the often overwhelming life of a kpop idol, if only for a little while.

Giselle adjusts the straps of her bag as she walks toward the mall. She hums a tune, her mind bubbling with excitement for the shopping trip ahead. It wasn't just any trip, she had been looking forward to this day ever since she had placed an order online two weeks ago. Today, she finally gets to pick up her secret package.

Even though it's dark, once inside, the artificial light could make anyone forget what time it is,

The first store she visits is a popular streetwear boutique. The racks are full of trendy pieces, and as she looks through the clothes, she feels a wave of inspiration wash over her. Fashion has always been a passion, and today she wants to explore it freely, without stylists or choreographers to guide her choices. Just her, a piece of music playing in her ears. She stops at a cafe to get something to drink on her adventure between floors. Though trivial to many, she had learned to enjoy the small pleasures of a simple outing in contrast to her celebrity life.

But there was one store she was eager to visit, an intriguing little boutique tucked away in a corner of the mall. Giselle could feel the excitement building inside her as she made her way there. She stood at the door.

With a quick glance around to make sure her cap and glasses are firmly in place, she pushes through the shop's door. A soft bell announces her arrival, and the dim interior, lit by colorful neon lights, immediately envelops her in a captivating atmosphere. The walls are lined with everything from cheeky novelties to sophisticated items, and Giselle couldn't help but smile.

As she browses, her own lust begins to kick in and the feel of the toy she's hiding in her hole warms her body. Giselle rarely went out without her best friend deep inside her pleasure hole, leaving only the ruby-colored head peeking out from her plump butt. She squeezes as she feels the cold rod stirring the insides of her ass, yet she is mesmerized by an array of colorful products, each one more playful and daring than the last. She picks up a set of anal beads, a mischievous grin creeping across her face as she imagines the looks of surprise on her members' faces when she decides to give them away as a prank.

"Maybe I'll get the sexy cat outfit for Karina,” she thought to herself, giselle gazes at the black and white costume, the top barely covering the body, with only a band of fur covering the nipples. The bottom, on the other hand, is a transparent black strip with fur on the hips, the front is open with drawings of a cat's mustache on the opening.

and last but not least a 4 ball butt plug.

��Karina tries so hard to hide it but we all know her sex drive is insatiable, at night her moans of self pleasure can be heard all over the dorm, I even saw some red bite marks on her nipples, she must love her own milk”, she chuckles to herself as she continues to explore, letting her imagination run wild.

"I can't believe it, what's it doing here?" she exclaimed, spotting a cute-looking brown teddy bear on a shelf and approaching the object to take it in her hand. The sensation of softness reminded her of the time she'd caught Winter rubbing her wet pussy with one of her animal toys, the moans she'd let out in a low, lustful tone before exploding and staining her stuffed slave, her eyes full of pleasure.

She says to herself “This girl doesn't know when to stop, she takes this poor bear with her everywhere, whether in the company, in the green rooms or even at fan meetings. Just imagine her rubbing her dirty and wet hole while talking to her fans, you can be sure she will never let him go thirsty.”

She notices a small remote control attached to the back, “a vibrating bear, no less” ; she already imagines her little rascal happy for her next birthday.

Now that she had discovered potential gifts for her two Korean members, she couldn't leave Ningning to her own hands, the problem being that she wasn't very open about her sexuality.

"Mhh... What about Ning?" Giselle wonders, knowing that Ningning likes to be treated like a princess. More than once, she's led our staff by the fingertips to get her to do what she wants. Then she remembers a scene when they were training for her comeback: Ningning had got into the habit of spanking her members during their performance, and whenever she got her hands close to their asses, she couldn't help but stick her hand there.

Her face when she delicately slapped Winter's ass during their choegraphy is hard to forget.

She moves on to another section and the atmosphere here is quite different from the others: black leather outfits, eye masks and, in the middle of it all, an assortment of bondage whips with the word "SM" engraved on them, she smiles before saying in a low voice, "After all, a princess has to educate her servants when they deserve to be punished but even though she's the youngest, behind her soft character is a little girl who looks forward to give pleasure.”

After picking out a few items - some for herself, some as gifts, she approaches the counter where a cheerful cashier welcomes her.

"Miss, did you find everything you were looking for?" the cashier asked with a playful smile in his eyes.

"More than I expected!" Giselle replied, her cheeks blushing with a mixture of amusement and excitement.

"I also got a notification that my package is ready for pickup," she adds, unable to hide the lust in her voice.

"Absolutely! I just need to see your ID and the confirmation code from your notification," he said, tapping his tablet screen. Giselle digs through her bag, hesitating for a moment as she pulls out her ID. She could feel her heart pounding, anxious for her package to be in her hands.

Suddenly, as the cashier turns to go to the back of the store, a huge noise is heard throughout the building, shaking Giselle's legs and sending her into a panic. Giselle freezes, a cocktail of fear and confusion coursing through her body as she instinctively runs to the front of the store, with the cashier right behind her.

Now standing outside the store, Giselle hears over the loudspeakers all over the mall:

"There has been an accident on the 5th floor. Please evacuate. Security will escort you to a safe area. Giselle makes sure her clothes are straightened and walks over to the security guard stationed by the elevators.

—--

On the floor directly above Giselle, an unprecedented event had just occurred: the crash of an unidentified object that tore through the sky and dived into the mall.

The crash site is unrecognizable as the impact sends shards of concrete and metal flying, startling the people inside the building, the crowd flees in fear, alarms starts screaming and the security officers rush to the scene. The hole in the roof reveals the full shadow of the moon, while the lights on the fifth floor no longer work and the cool night air fills the room. In this cloud of dust and darkness now lies the wreckage of your ship.

Your spaceship, a jewel of technology, is now smashed to pieces, the front window shattered on the ground, the rear landing gear cut off at the top and reduced to rubble.

The security personnel who hurry to the upper floors, wondering if some unexplained phenomenon has taken place. And then, from the smoking site, emerge the creature that will forever change Giselle’s life.

This is you, Cok, an alien octopus of vivid hues and shimmering red. Your body is a testament to the miracles of evolution; soft yet tough skin adorned with luminescent patterns that shifted as it moved; two black eyes capable of piercing the night with a single glance; cerebral faculties adapted to survival in any hostile environment; all these gifts of nature contained within such a small frame body. Your eight long tentacles glided effortlessly, taking in the new surroundings as curiosity flickered through his mind like electric sparks.

As you slowly become aware of your surroundings, the vibrations on the ground caused by the running guards, coupled with the deafening sounds of the alarm, awaken your survival instincts and you take advantage of the smoke to flee out of the impact zone and quickly crawl through the debris. Within the chaos, you were able to sneak into a shop whose door had been left open and take refuge in the room's emerging darkness.

—--

At the same time, the guards finally arrive at the crash site. Upon seeing the extent of the damage, they discover that the ground is littered with debris and that there is still dust in the air. It gradually dissipates, revealing the ruins of your ship.

Cautiously approaching, they finally get a good look at the structure responsible for the chaos. Confused at first by its shape, they don't think at first they're looking at a ship from somewhere else. Limited by their human knowledge, it is logical for them to think of a drone accident, deliberate or not.

The arrival of the police and emergency services helped to stabilize the situation. Fortunately, there were no fatalities and only a few injuries, mostly from the shock of the impact or debris from the surrounding area.

1 hour later,

A loudspeaker announces that the mall is closing immediately and that everyone should leave; the facility's security is now in question and there's no telling if there will be another incident.

Giselle has now returned to the first floor. She sits on the floor next to the cashier. Still shaken by what happened and tired, she is forced to go home without her package.

As she stands up, a jolt of electricity shoots through her body as she feels her toy sink deeper and deeper into her tight but wide open hole. She has the feeling that her toy is sticking to the very bottom, the idea of rubbing her fingers against its folds comes to her mind, and she also feels the formation of a small stain in her panties as they rub against her slit. A rush of libido hits her and every step becomes an agony. She's close to climax, but resists as she heads for the exit.

As she walks away and starts to call her manager, the cashier catches up with her and asks:

"Madam, do you still want to pick up your package, it won't take long".

This was the nail in the coffin, the desire was too much in her body and she could not refuse.

"Sure, I'll follow you," she said, her cheeks flushed now, her eyes full of lust, and her breath coming in short gasps.

—--

You've been hiding in the dark for a while. When the alarm goes off, you're greeted by a silence that doesn't displease you. Now you begin to explore your surroundings, even though everything around you is completely unfamiliar. Your tentacles aren't just there to move you; they're also powerful sensors, each with its own brain.

Crossing the room, you find yourself in the back room, devoid of light. You scan your surroundings. You identify metal structures, objects of all sizes and sensations. You are then attracted by a current of air coming from the ground. You crawl towards it and enter the passageway, probably damaged by the crash.

The passage is narrow even for you, and you continue toward the source of this air until you reach a dead end. You're immediately startled by the emptiness under your tentacles and feel yourself falling into the vertical vent. You barely catch yourself on the first ledge and slide to safety.

You realize that taking the downward path would be a mistake to avoid, and that the only solution is to continue blind in the ducts. After crawling about 5 meters, you hear a conversation in the distance and hesitate to continue in that direction. Finally, curiosity gets the better of you.

"Oh, this can't be! Look at this mess!" the cashier vent, accompanied by Giselle, who just arrived in front of the store.

The store, though one floor below the accident, had seen its merchandise knocked to the ground; some of it is still there. The once magical atmosphere was now just a pile of junk.

"Just a moment while I clear the way, ma'am," the cashier announces.

You arrive in what appears to be the back of a store. The environment is similar to the one you touched earlier. A faint beam of light from the shop crosses the room. You examine your surroundings again until you encounter something that paralyzes you for a moment.

Through your tentacles and round eyes, you recognize what appears to be one of your own kind. You make contact with this red creature with eight tentacles and two beautiful black eyes. But something isn't right. You don't feel any reaction from it, and the sensation of touch is unfamiliar, almost as if it were fabricated. Unable to discern the truth, a strange feeling arises in your body. This creature looks like you, but seems so different from you.

At this point, you're certain that the two people in the other room are dangerous. The bodies of your fellow creatures lying on the floor next to you are proof that your kind is not welcome on this planet. In panic, you hear footsteps coming towards you, and you hide in this narrow object. The sensation is pleasant, you feel as if you're being enveloped.

“Madam, the tablet is broken. You'll have to enter the code on the deliveryman's website. I'll pick up your package.”

“Thank you,” Giselle shouted across the room.

Hidden in this container, you still perceive the glimmer of light, the envelope of your hiding place gives you a feeling of security and comfort you have never experienced before on this planet, until the moment when total darkness drowns you, you feel tremors around you, the air becomes thin, but you don't need it anyway...

You hear the loud shout of a human announcing something in a language unknown to you. “Miss, i’ve found your package”

You realize you're being moved, trapped in your box, you panic, wondering how you managed to find yourself so easily, knowing in advance that a direct confrontation is hopeless, you have no fighting skills, especially not against creatures much bigger and heavier than you, You're sure you've been captured and will suffer the same fate as your fallen compatriot.

"Here madam, I took the liberty of resealing the package, it must have been knocked over by the explosion, in case of damage, I apologize even more, now we have to hurry and leave," says the cashier.

Giselle, who finally has her precious package, leaves the mall before calling her manager to take her back to her dorm. It's been a busy day, but Cok's adventure is just beginning.

______________________________________________________________

First of all, thanks for reading, I've never written a fic before, but it's something I really wanted to try :) Think of this as an introduction chapter. I know the themes might not be to everyone's taste, but please look forward to the next ones.🐙

#aespa smut #giselle smut #karina smut #winter smut #ningning #kpop smut #giselle aespa

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year ago

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fluff and/or smut request based on the prompt “My God, you're fun to kiss.”

Eddie preferred but if Steve inspires you more for this that's okay too!

ily💖

eddie munson x afab!reader. 18+.

It starts as friends.

Acquaintances, really. People who pass each other in the hall. Glances as you go, simple pleasantries, a wave if you’re lucky.

But fate steps in. And soon it’s a joint project, it’s trying to care for an egg together, to make sure it doesn’t break, gentleness foreign to both of you. It’s handing off your pretend child at the end of an afternoon—it’s joint custody over an eventual grade.

Soon, it’s gentle brushes of flesh in science class. It’s an accidental touch after almost dropping a pipette, a borrowed pencil, a shared eraser. Awkward encounters become heated glances. They become chemical interactions like the science projects you share with Eddie Munson.

Bright, vibrant, and potent.

You think it’s a joke when you’re paired in English class. Some sort of cosmic arrangement in the stars, a joke from the gods, what have you. Because of all the people you could act out Romeo and Juliet with, Eddie Munson is the last one on your list.

He’s brash and unruly. He’s disorganized and frenetic. He’s…well, he’s charismatic and alluring. Infuriating and compelling. Intriguing and impossible. Handsome and absolutely grotesque. Charming and…

Well. That’s the problem, really. The more the stars align, the more you find you like him. The more you find yourself enraptured by the boy with curly hair and a dimpled smile.

So it’s almost no surprise when you find yourself seated on a bench in the middle of spring, surrounded by dappled light and looming trees, books stretched out in front of you, practicing your lines. Only Eddie’s distracted. Has been for a bit. Since you arrived, really.

“Is there something on my face?” Your words are short. Staccato. Clipped. Brusque, without a real reason for them being so.

“Er—no.”

And that’s that. These weeks, these opportune moments—they mean nothing. Fleeting gazes, jovial banter, and brief looks? Those don’t make up a relationship. You know this. Yet it stings all the same. Sinks deep in your gut.

Or so you think.

The next time you meet in the woods, Eddie’s a live wire. Fingers tapping a pen on his notebook, brushing your cheek, curling around your jaw. He’s staring at you fondly. Like you’re the only girl in the world; like you’re his. And you would be—if he’d only asked you.

It’s on that day, as the sun sets and the sky glows orange, he leans down and kisses you the first time.

A gentle brush of his lips over yours as you sit on top of that wooden table. His knees press to the bench, your backside on the tabletop, his ringed fingers around your hips.

He kisses you like you’re precious—a jewel to be cherished, bright and twinkly, rare and his. And you find you like that; languish in it.

You get a B+ in O’Donnell’s class and the woods become your haven that next week. A place where you can run to him, your fingers in his hair, his arms around your waist. Whispers of hate and love, of frustration and adoration, of ‘will they’ and ‘won’t they.’

There’s a shlick of a zipper lowering. A hiss from the boy before you as you tug him forward by his belt loops, nosing along his throat, sucking purple hickeys into supple flesh.

He’s plush lips over your breast, whispers of, “My god, you’re fun to kiss.”

And you’re pliant. Heart a flutter as he slides your skirt up your thighs, parting you for him, brushing at your slit. He teases at your flesh. One finger, swirling in your slick, mouth swallowing your pitiful moans. And then another, sliding into you. Making you whimper and moan, gasps muffled against the column of his throat.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?” He asks, brushing his mouth over your ear.

Smirks into your skin when you tremble, thighs spreading wider, welcoming the boy as he prods at your center, groans when you whimper into his chest at the brush of his fullness against your hole.

“Y-yeah, Eds.”

“What do you want, baby? Need your words.”

Another brush. A nudge. A slight pressure where you want him most, but it has your toes curling, fingers tightening around his leather jacket, gripping fast to curls, teeth clenching around his earlobe.

“Need you to fuck me,” you manage.

“Yeah, baby?” He’s smirking. Dimples and cockiness, fingers curling around his base, pressing his head against your center. Collecting your slick and pushing in slightly. Enough to have you quivering, enough to have you begging for more. “Like this?”

And he’s sliding in. Inch by blessed inch, slowly and painstakingly so, until you’re a gasping, writhing, pleading mess. Tears prick your eyes, fingers in his hair, mouth against his.

“You like me,” he rasps.

Not a question.

Not at all.

A statement. Simple, just like breathing. Just like the way he slides in and out of you—like he’s always done so, like it’s what he’s always been made to, like he’s been doing so all along.

“I do,” you gasp out, shuddering around him, curling your thighs around him, dragging him closer. You need him closer. “I like you, Eddie Munson.”

“Go out with me.” A brush of his lips over your heart, hips rolling against yours, drawing out your pleasure.

You hate him, you like him, you might even love him.

“I will,” you whimper, pulling him tighter, burning brighter. “I will.”

And it’s one week later you walk down the halls hand in hand with Eddie Munson. Your health partner, lab partner, english partner. Stranger, acquaintance, friend.

Boyfriend.

Yours.

#lunaloveseddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader fluff #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab!fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader

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saturnville · 4 months ago

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what happens in madrid… [1/2]

pairing: jude bellingham x black oc (naomi sinclair) summary: what happens in madrid… warnings: none. tags: @emjayewrites @cocobutterqwueen @neeville @neewrites @cosmic-parker + anyone else who likes football fics? let me know if you want to be added! an: when I tell you this took me forever…I truly hope you like my delusions put into a fic 🩵 and this gif!!!

part two: …stays in madrid

“Let me take you out. Make your trip one to remember.”

Naomi considered herself a smart woman. University-educated with street smarts that were more profound than a person would assume for her age. She intentionally thought through every scenario; understanding that everything she said, thought, and did came with a consequence.

She didn’t know what it would take to see a six-foot man with caramel skin and chocolate brown eyes approaching her at a local restaurant and boldly attempting to woo her, to let go of all her inhibitions and throw her common sense out the window. She knew him, yes, but she didn’t know him. Hell, he could kill her within the next five minutes.

Did it phase her? No. For once, she let her curiosity outweigh her logical mind and fell victim to his gleaming smile and charming nature. She was on vacation, she tried to reason the best she could. On vacation and being pursued by a fine young man who insisted she have a good time during her stay. So, she pushed her hair over her shoulder and gave him a smile that raised his eyebrows in interest. “Pick me up from here tomorrow.”

“Well aren’t you beautiful,” he complimented as she walked toward his vehicle, dark and brooding, much unlike the man he’d presented himself as. His comment had her lips curling upward to a smile. She thanked him, accepted the kiss on her cheek, and tried not to fold when he guided her to the passenger’s seat.

“Thank you,” Naomi replied after some time. “You are dually handsome, sir.” And that was a fact. She appreciated his subtle approach to fashion. Everything he wore was high-end, that was evident, but it wasn’t flashy. His aura and confidence spoke for him. He wore the black button-down and matching short set with an easy confidence. The dark sunglasses over his eyes completed the look, only emphasizing her thoughts.

Jude smiled and proceeded to drive out of the hotel lot. They engaged in small conversation, picking up from where they left off the previous night. They were different but had a lot in common. She, too, was the oldest of two, save she had a sister rather than a brother. Unlike her, her sister didn’t take an interest in football, rather participated in cheerleading and went to university on a cheer scholarship.

“That’s amazing,” Jude commented genuinely. “She graduated right?”

Naomi shook her head. “Not yet; she’s still got time. She’s a first-year, but she’s already planning her graduation trip. She wants to go to England.” His ears perked up and a sly smile crept on his lips. She rolled her eyes playfully but accepted his proposal to share places she should visit whenever her sister went to England.

“You know,” Jude spoke minutes later as he guided her out of the vehicle. She took his extended hand and thanked him, straightening her thigh-length skirt. “I don’t hear Spain as a place for solo travel often. What prompted that?”

Her response was delayed by her infatuation with the sights above her. They were outside of a museum. Not just any museum, but the National Archaeological Museum. She was inwardly awed. He took note of her love for history and art and took her to the museum. She could kiss him right then and there.

“Glad you took my advice and wore comfortable shoes.” They both glanced at her New Balance sneakers that complimented her neutral-toned outfit. She wore a gray cropped top, knee-length distressed shorts, and a white fitted cap to match. “We’ll be out for a while. I know a good lunch place not too far away if you want to go later.”

Naomi smiled. “Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!’ Naomi refrained from touching the meticulously handcrafted bust in front of her. Her eyes gleamed with wonder and adoration. She adored museums. They were where art and history kissed and refused to gasp for air. There was nothing like it.

From behind her, Jude nodded slowly, not paying much attention to the busts, but rather her child-like excitement and sun-like glow. He could have cursed himself for doing all of this for a woman he’d met less than 36 hours before, but the feeling deep within him outweighed the logic his brain tried to present him with.

A pretty woman whom he just happened to speak to at dinner had agreed to let him take her around Madrid for vacation. Just as he did, she’d taken such a liking to him that she agreed to spend time with him until she left ten days later. He had ten days to be in her presence and he’d been damned if he let his mind ruin it.

“Yeah,” Jude spoke up after some time, his eyes following her. “Very beautiful.”

Liked by adyajalyn, tomjones, alexandraaaaa, and 341 others

naomisinclair such a beautiful city

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adyajalyn girl who took that picture and who’s arm is that

— naomisinclair 🌚

adyajalyn you go out of the country once and start befriending strangers like a dumbass

adyajalyn is he cute though?

— naomisinclair very

judeb pretty

— naomisinclair liked your comment!

— naomisinclair judeb thank you boo

—judeb liked your comment!

“So, do you plan on returning to Madrid in the future?” Jude asked as they walked in a local park, hand in hand. Naomi tilted her head to the sky and swung their hands together. “Or was this a one-time trip?”

“I’ll be back. Especially if I have a reason to return.” She turned her head to meet his eyes, which were already awaiting hers. She saw something within them--excitement, interest, and desire. It made her stomach clench and her face grow warm. “So, hopefully, I will.”

The wheels began to turn in his mind. She’d be gone in ten days. He’d go on break in fourteen days. Would he be insane to try and get to know a woman who was nowhere near Madrid? Maybe. But, who doesn't like a little crazy?

After some time, Jude spoke up, “I’d like to think you will.”

Her eyes twinkled. She said nothing after that but the step she took closer to his body said more words than her mouth could and he accepted it gratefully.

“You can come in if you’d like,” Naomi said shyly as they stood outside the door of her hotel. Her fingers fondled her braids as she awaited his response.

Jude’s lips spread in a content smile as he nodded. “I appreciate that. Give me some time to shower and I’ll be back.”

Naomi grinned like a kid in the candy shop. They exchanged their goodbyes and she was left to freshen up and keep her mind occupied as she waited for his arrival.

Shortly after her shower, she got a phone call from Adya, whose face was filled with interest as she immediately asked, “Who is he?”

Naomi chuckled, “Well hello to you, too. And to answer your question, he’s a nice guy I befriended at dinner one day. Just showing me around the city. And before you call me a dumbass, yes I know it was dangerous.”

“As long as you know,” Adya shrugged. She then smiled softly. “Is he treating you nicely at least? Not a total creep?”

Naomi nodded. Jude was more than nice. He was incredibly kind and attentive. The thought of her leaving the following week drove her mad but she tried her best not to ponder on it too much. She’d enjoy the present moment.

“He’s a nice guy. Sucks that I’ll leave, but that’s why I’m just basking in the moment.”

Adya hummed. “If you’d like to make it work, it could be possible. Would take a lot of effort, but it could work if you both wanted it to. I think you might have to build a friendship first, though.” That drew a small laugh from Naomi who agreed wholeheartedly.

Just as she was peeped to respond, his name dropped down from a banner.

Jude

— Hey, pretty girl. I’m outside.

Adya, not blind to Naomi’s sudden grin, hollered and said, “Girl, go talk to that man and call me in the morning.”

“Bye Ady!”

Naomi tossed her phone on the bed and kept off the mattress. She patted her braids, soothed her sweatshirt, wriggled her manicured toes, and strode toward the door, opening it wide.

Jude stood on the other side, a smile on his face as he held up a dark bag. “I come bearing gifts.” Naomi moved out his way and allowed his entry. “This is a nice room.”

“Thank you. The booking company gave me hell so they upgraded me to a suite.” Naomi pointed to his bag and tilted her head to the side. “What do you have there?” She sat on the bed and he joined her.

“Heard through the grapevine you like popcorn, chocolate, and good movies.” Out of the bag came varieties of chocolate, a large bag of popcorn, and his laptop, fully equipped with any streaming service of her choice. “Figured we would watch one or two together.”

Naomi grinned like an idiot for the hundredth time that day. He was so considerate it almost hurt. Without much thought, she said, “I could kiss you right now.”

The way Jude’s eyes widened made her heart quicken but the feeling of his lips on hers shortly after caused it to nearly burst in her chest.

He was such a good kisser, she noted, appreciating how he took control yet was very gentle with her. His hands didn’t roam below her waist and he didn’t try to force his tongue down her throat. It was the perfect blend between respectful and polite and grown and sexy. Just as she liked it.

“I like you,” he whispered some time after they pulled away. Naomi’s eyes softened at his confession. She noted how he tried to catch his breath, how his cheeks were rosy from his body temperature rising, how his lips were slightly swollen and smeared with her lip gloss. He was so beautiful.

“Jude…”

He didn’t let her finish. “I like you and it’s crazy because it’s been less than 48 hours but Naomi, there’s just something about you.” Swoon. “You’ll go back home and I’ll be here, but I want to see what my life could look like with you in it. Give you a reason to come back.”

Naomi laughed lightly. Not because anything he said was funny, but because of the insanity of it all. She’d fallen head first for a man she’d known for two days and blushed at every word he said like his sentences were crafted by Shakespeare.

“I like you too,” she admitted. “And I feel crazy saying that because we’re strangers.”

Jude’s eyebrows raised as he nodded. That was the unfortunate fact, but, “We’ve got a few more days to become more than strangers.”

And that they did.

“Jude!” Naomi squealed as he tapped her shoulder, causing her to fall in the pool. She didn’t get the opportunity to wipe the water from her eyes before Jude jumped in beside her. She squealed loudly then giggled when he scooped her into his arms.

“That wasn’t nice,” she said, pouting playfully. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her manicured fingers combed through the thick curls on his head, an action that made his eyes flutter. “I’m gonna get you back.”

“Is that so?” he asked, fingers caressing her thighs that were locked around his waist. Naomi nodded, eyes dropping to his lips. “Gonna have to get me first.”

Naomi, as flirtatious as ever, only has to bat her eyelashes a few times and brush her lips against his for him to crumble immediately. The perfect way to get him distracted enough to wriggle herself from his grip and dunk his head into the water.

“Oof!”

Her laugh was loud and boisterous, but he enjoyed hearing it all the same. Jude wiped his eyes when he came up from the water and gave her a look. Naomi giggled as she tried to back away, but her movement was restricted by the water.

Once again, she was scooped into his arms. “You play dirty,” he said. “I like it.”

Naomi smiled. The feelings she felt with him were unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Her face always hurt from smiling, she felt giddy whenever he arrived at her door or called her phone. How would she possibly be able to deal with the distance?

“I’ve got to go, Jude, or I’ll miss my flight,” Naomi whispered, tugging her hand out of his grasp gently. “I’ve got to go.”

The dreaded day had arrived. Naomi had to go back home and they’d be without each other (physically) until their schedules aligned again. It was something neither of them wanted to think of but like always, time brought reality back to them.

“I don’t want you to go,” the footballer admitted, swinging their hands back and forth. Naomi smiled sadly, using her free hand to caress his face.

“I don’t want to go either, but we’ll call, text, and FaceTime as much as we can, and we’ll figure it out. We can figure it out.”

Jude’s lips parted to respond but her flight being called over the speakers cut him off. He sighed heavily. Naomi bit her lip to pierce her quivering lips. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jude replied. He pressed a kiss against her lips.“Call me when you land, alright?” Naomi nodded and took her roller bag in her hand and began to walk toward her gate.

“Bye Jude.”

He waved sadly.“I’ll see you soon, Naomi.”

Liked by adyajalyn, judeb, judebellingham, and 673 others

naomisinclair until next time, madrid.

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saturnville and so it begins!

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #x black oc #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x black oc #jude bellingham x black reader #jude bellingham x black!reader #real madrid #la liga #ucl #real madrid x reader

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alexlwrites · 8 months ago

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As REQUESTED! Here's part 3 of "Yoongi who never had a crush... Until you" from my notes app!

This is a little longer than the others due to my commute to work taking a little longer today, so yall can thank the Sao Paulo train system for that!

As I mentioned previously, I am now open to commissions through my ko-fi! So you can buy me a coffee and request a short scenario, whether it be based on this fic, one of my others, or something entirely new! The link to my ko-fi is in my bio!

Anywho! Enjoy!

----

Yoongi had an on going theory - now proven over many many times - that any and all problems he encountered could somehow be traced back to Jimin.

Beer missing from the fridge? Jiminie. His files mysteriously disappearing from his computer, replaced by a bootleg version of The Sims 3? Jimin. The Plague? Park Jimin, that fucking rat.

And once more, in a house party he had no interested being at, poor Yoongi found himself victim of the consequences of his ill-fated association with that god-forsaken gremlin, now smiling smugly from across the circle where his friends and a few acquaintances sat.

"Everyone knows the rules, right?" Jimin said, innocently like he wasn't the cause of Yoongi's on going demise "You spin the bottle and whoever it points to, you have to kiss!"

Yoongi snorted from his place in a chair outside the circle. At 30 years old, he was clearly above such childish games and would never submit himself to such humiliating and depraved behavior...

"I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" he heard and he swore time stopped as you, of all people, sat within the circle next to a Jungkook, smoothing down your tennis skirt as you smiled "What are we playing?"

"Spin the bottle!" Jimin smiled grew, a mischievous gleam appearing as he peared at his frozen friend.

Your eyes looked around the circle, falling on Yoongi's a couple feet behind and he swore even the singular hair in his left toe stood up in alert "Yoongi's not playing?" You asked.

Jimin shrugged in despondency "Well, no-"

"Of course I am!" Yoongi threw himself onto the ground, sending a poor unsuspecting Taehyung flying out of the way with a whelp "I love this game!"

Yoongi did not in fact love this game. He loathed it.

They had played several rounds and his bottle was nowhere close to pointing at you. Instead, he kissed Namjoon twice and slapped Taehyung once for putting his slimy tongue out as their faces got closer.

Was he cursed, he wondered, the face of dispirited desperation, watching as Hoseok and Jin made out in a way that could only be described as disproportionately violent. What could he have done in his past lives that would lead to this punishment, the sheer torture of sitting across from you and not getting to kiss you? Had he not earned your affections? Did he not claim your love through the cosmical power of dibs?

Whatever. WhaTEVER! So it would be, he would die alone. A monk amongst 6 manwhores, a fortitude of loneliness, cursed to roam the earth in his loveless state...

Oh, it was his turn. He spinned the bottle thoughtlessly, mind still wondering about the implications of his slowly returning virginity due to solitude.

Oh.

You looked up at him as the bottle pointed straight at your form all the way across the circle and Yoongi swore someone had to call 911 at the way his heart stopped. His condition - simptitis - was worsening by the second.

Someone wheel him into the emergency room - you were crawling across the circle, prowling really, your blouse dipping in a way that left nothing to the imagination, and trust him, he had imagined!

You stopped, kneeling in front of him "Hi, Mr. Min."

Here are some symptoms to look for if you believe you could suffer from simptitis:

-accelerated heart beat

-exaggerated hand sweating

-inability to form coherent thoughts, not to be confused with just being stupid, which Yoongi was starting to think it was his case

-ill timed boners

And, the most common one:

-praise kink

Yoongi seemed to be displaying all of the above at the same time and when you softly asked "Are you okay with this?" All he could do was brace himself and nod.

If Hoseok and Jin's kiss was violent, this one was peaceful, slow, soft and way too passionate for a spin the bottle session. You tasted like sicilian lemon and gin and Yoongi was only but an alcoholic man at your feet, cradling your face to keep you close, refusing to let go of the addictive feeling of your lips on his.

Someone coughed awkwardly and you stepped back, face flushed and chest heaving. You looked deliciously disheveled and Yoongi thought of other circumstances where he could make you look like that again.

Okay, so maybe Jimin wasn't that bad. Maybe he wasn't the physical manifestation of Yoongi's karma. Maybe that phat assed hobbit was up to something with his seventh grade games...

Oh, it was your turn. Maybe Yoongi would get to kiss you again!

Nope. It landed on Jimin, who wasted absolutely no time in bringing your face down to his.

The betrayal? The bro-trayal?

Back stabbing little tinker bell bitch.

Bugger.

Bugger it all to hell.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff

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aestradairio · 3 months ago

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. the Aestra Art House Gallery Exhibition 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

— Nestled in the heart of a bustling city, a new art gallery has opened its doors, inviting art enthusiasts to experience a unique and inspiring event. Fully glamed, you decided to attend this event as it seemed very important after you received the invitation.

As you approach the gallery, you’re welcomed by an elegant facade, its modern architecture blending seamlessly with the urban surroundings. The large windows offer glimpses of the art inside, drawing you in with their promise of discovery. Stepping through the grand entrance, you find yourself in a serene and minimalist lobby. The atmosphere is calm and inviting, with light colors and tasteful decor creating a sense of tranquility.

Standing near the entrance is an elegant lady, dressed in a chic, tailored outfit that exudes both sophistication and warmth. Her attire is a perfect blend of classic and modern, with a flowing silk blouse paired with a sleek pencil skirt, complemented by tasteful jewelry that adds a touch of sparkle without being overpowering. Her posture is poised, and she carries herself with a grace that is both welcoming and refined.

With a genuine smile, she steps forward to greet you. Her voice is warm and melodic, instantly putting you at ease.

"Welcome to our humble Gallery." she says, her eyes twinkling with enthusiasm. "We're delighted to have you here. My name is Aestra , and I'll be your guide today."

She extends her hand for a light, friendly handshake, her grip firm yet gentle. As she leads you into the main gallery, she gestures gracefully to the various sections.

"We have a wonderful collection of art from talented artists around the world. Each room has a unique theme designed to inspire your creativity and imagination. If you have any questions or need any assistance, please don't hesitate to ask me."

Her demeanor is both professional and approachable, making you feel not just a visitor but a valued guest. Throughout your tour, she provides insightful commentary on the artworks, her passion for art evident in every word. Her knowledge is extensive, yet she shares it in a way that is engaging and accessible, ensuring you feel connected to the art and the stories behind each piece.

As you move through the gallery, Aestra checks in with you periodically, offering additional information and answering any questions you might have. Her presence is a perfect balance of attentive and unobtrusive, allowing you to enjoy the exhibition at your own pace.

— Welcome to the Aestra Art Exhibition. This exhibition features a curated collection of artworks, each showcased in thoughtfully designed rooms that offer a different theme, perfect for sparking creativity and helping you build your own artwork.

The exhibition is divided into six distinct rooms, each with a unique theme designed to inspire your creativity and help you craft beautiful artwork. Each room in the gallery is a portal to a different world, that transports you between dimensions and allows you to see the beauty of other worlds realms.

1.Dreamy Pastels Room 2.Cozy Cottage Room

3.Cosmic Wonders Room 4.Nostalgia Nook Room

5.Shades of Simplicity Room 6.Noble Narratives Room

୭ ˚. You are required to do your own artwork inspired by a well chosen room that the host of the exhibition will give you @aestraevents . all you have to do is send them a letter and ask them to give you a distinct room.

୭ ˚. Show your support by liking and reblogging this event post. Let your friends know about this magical experience! Spread the word by mentioning three of your closest friends in your reblog. Share the creativity and inspiration with those who matter most and secure your place in this artistic adventure by commenting 'joining' in the comments section below.

୭ ˚. Immerse yourself in the themes of our exhibition and craft your unique artwork. Be sure to tag us and use the hashtag #. ✿ ae–art house event⠀ ⠀❀𓊇⠀ .⠀ , so we can admire your creation.

Originality is Key: Please ensure your artwork is a reflection of your own creativity. Any copied artworks will lead to disqualification.

We can't wait to see your beautiful artworks and share in this artistic celebration with you!

Warm regards,

—The Lady Aestra.

my honored list⁚ @p-oisn @n-americano @neapolitism @gumishio @hcvenue @muruffin @sugarish @sukisng @obrigados @orientarla @iyuliae @iyunjin @c-heriis @i6gyu @ieailu @ritualdenoche @voladitos @vapeofdolls @versocanibal @nulliaely @winterfea @fre-sitas @flordoipe @eternacrueldad @snowithv @chaer-yeons @coralfragil @chaetopia @chaewebs @lacediore @graveroom @xooee @pommecita @zahraism @taroism @awwriri @rkkuri .

my note⁚ thanks guys for 100+ followers finally I m hosting my first event I worked hard on this for the last two weeks to host it on my first month anniversary I wish you all appreciate it🫶🏻❕

#. ✿ ae–art house event⠀ ⠀❀𓊇⠀ .⠀#aesthetic #digital art #divider and gifs by me #alternative #IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR FUN HERE IS IT MATE #messy aesthetic #aestethic #pretty things #colours #messy icons

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stupidlittlespirit · 9 days ago

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Rating: SFW (later chapters will be NSFW) Type: Long form, multi-chapter, Stanford Pines x Reader Tags: Mutual pining, no pronouns used, teasing, a special appearance from Stan, mentions of the kids, housekeeper!Reader, tw: my horrible jokes. Word count: 5,729 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Ch.2 here

In which a simple expedition with Ford goes increasingly sideways and you learn more than enough about thermodynamics to last you a lifetime.

A/N: This has been quite an undertaking to produce. I created this fic as somewhat of a universe in which base a number of my post-portal!Ford one-shots etc in, and that meant I had to lay a lot of groundwork in it. I wanted to have a setting where I didn't need to keep giving background on what the Reader's role is and how/why they feel a certain way in every fic, and to also offer a kind of timeline that could be explored through future works. Because of that, in this fic there will be vague allusions to some small events happening to set us up for the current day and if people are interested in reading more about those events in full detail then I'd really love to explore them properly with you guys.

Just as an aside - Reader will mention they don't have a father in a throwaway line. It can be taken as just a joke or as literal. Up to you.

Anyway, most of this fic is already completed and I'll be posting a new chapter every couple of days or so. You can wait to read it all in one go or enjoy it in chapters. There will be roughly 5 in total. Enjoy!

Sometimes, in life, things align so perfectly that a person can't stop themselves from considering the possibility of cosmic interference.

Deities. The universe. Some other unseen, all powerful entity of murky origin. All of their existences seem far more plausible when events in one's life fall effortlessly into place and line up to give them the exact thing they've always wanted.

Today is one of those days.

You're busy chopping onions when the planets orient themselves for you.

The broad kitchen knife in your hand knocks rhythmically against the oak board underneath it with every slice you make and the little ribbons of milk-white flesh stack neatly between blade and vegetable, but your attention is, quite irresponsibly, elsewhere.

You really ought to be keeping track of your fingers but you're far too preoccupied with gazing out of the bay window in front of you to really care all that much. The thing is huge; its frame is rimmed with rich mahogany and it has one broad, square pane sitting in the centre, beset by two more, slimmer, rectangular pieces. It drinks in the waning daylight outside and on sunnier evenings, the pretty little stained panels that skirt the tops of each one glow a rich blue, showing off the depictions of constellations inside, like someone has captured part of the night sky and trapped it within the glass for their own private amusement.

Today, the clouds block the sun and the cerulean glass is dull, but you don’t mind too much. You’re not making use of the window to admire the art, lovely as it may be. You’re far more focused on what’s taking place on the lawn, beyond the bounds of the warm interior of the house.

Out on the well-kept grass, two figures are vigorously working out. Well, one is. The other looks like he’d rather keel over and die than spend another second out there, but he’s doing his best all the same and that’s what matters, you suppose.

Steam rises from Ford’s figure as he pauses in his work to help his nephew grip a mid-sized dumbbell correctly. It curls off and around his body like smoke, rising from its sweaty source and wafting into the unseasonably cool air. His cheeks are pink, likely both from exertion and the chill in the weather, and the colour blooms all the way across his face, stretching far enough to even tickle the tips of his ears.

He looks gorgeous.

Dressed in all-black, he’s wearing a short sleeve t-shirt and sweats, paired with dirty blue trainers. Where the skin of his throat and arms should be exposed, however, they’re instead wrapped up tight in what you presume to be some kind of fancy thermal shirt. You’ve never seen him wear anything that shows off his skin, yet somehow the way it clings to the curves of his biceps and forearms is even more revealing than seeing them bare.

Granted, this isn't the first time you've spied on one of his workout sessions like this (in almost exactly the same way), but every time he shows up, it feels like you've been blessed by the Heavens.

Ford, for what it’s worth, hasn’t noticed anything untoward. Not as far as you’re aware, anyway. He’s usually too lost in whatever he’s doing to pay you much mind and if he does catch your presence in the window, you’re always quick to make yourself look busy.

Ford works out four times a week, like clockwork, on the front lawn of the house he shares with his brother. He doesn't always have his nephew with him (Dipper clearly only ever wants to do his best for his great-uncle, however exercise is hardly the kid's forte and you can't say you blame him), which means that oftentimes you get the absolute pleasure of observing a clueless Ford lift weights and stretch his quads for sixty minutes whilst you break from your other chores to prepare them all dinner.

You've been working for the Pines’ for the better part of a year now and getting hired had been a complete accident:

Upon moving to Gravity Falls eighteen months ago and landing the first job you had come across in the local paper (an underpaid, exhausting waitressing gig at the local diner) you’d run into the kids one afternoon on a rare day off.

Mabel had almost smashed your ankle to bits after she and her brother had lost control of their overstuffed trolley and once they had finished their litany of apologies, you’d taken note of the cart’s contents: primarily filled with sugar riddled snacks and items with so little nutritional value that you’d been astounded they’d been legal to sell, neither one of the kids appeared to know how they were going to lug all their so-called food home or what they were going to make for dinner.

Without much else to do, you’d volunteered to lend a hand. They had explained their task: “Grunkle Stan says his back hurts too much to waste time in the store these days and he promised that if we helped, he’d make Grunkle Ford teach us how to drive so we can do it even faster!” Mabel had enthusiastically informed you, eyes bright and metaphorical tail bushy, and despite your confusion over the concept of a ‘Grunkle’, the idea of two apparently-just-turned fourteen year olds at the wheel had been less than thrilling.

Some gentle sweet talking had convinced them to swap out some of their items for things a little more suitable and you’d carried their bags back on a short walk to the house where you’d met the infamous Stan lounging on its porch, his feet up on some empty crates.

At Mabel’s excited introduction of you and her retelling of your recipe ideas, Stan had given you a once over before he’d asked how you felt about replacing the kids as dinner gofer. As it turned out, sending two hyperactive children out to get groceries every week had apparently (shockingly) not been working out too well for the older brothers, and one offer of help had turned into several paid offers.

After only a few short weeks of assisting them, you’d been offered a full time position as housekeeper. The decision to take them up on it had been easy; waitressing barely covered the bills for your decrepit little cabin on the outskirts of town and spending hours every day walking the same five metre route to and from the kitchen six days a week was monotonous enough that you’d been considering moving on anyway.

You’d jumped at the chance.

Technically, your job here is to help with the household tasks that Stan is too lazy to do and that Ford is too busy researching or gallivanting around in the forest to take on, but more often than not, you’re stuck doing whatever little thing Stan thinks up so that he can, as he puts it: ‘enjoy his retirement, sweetheart’. The work extends to any little chore they might need help with, and when the kids head home for summer and Ford and Stan set sail for a few months again, it falls to you to keep the place standing until they return.

Hence why you’re slaving away in their roomy kitchen this evening, gazing out at Ford like you’re some kind of yearning protagonist in a classic romance novel and turning over several thoughts in your mind that you’re sure would get you fired if you revealed them in detail to anyone else. You exhale softly as you watch him show Dipper how to correctly pull off a bicep curl, his arm flexing beneath his shirt.

Behind you, at the dinner table, Stan pauses where he's rustling through his daily newspaper at a leisurely pace and his chair creaks as he shifts in it. “Keep sighing like that and you’ll fog the windows up before he’s finished.”

You start, having completely forgotten his presence, and narrowly you swerve the kitchen knife to avoid chopping off the tip of your index finger. “Jesus, Stan!” you huff. “I almost cut my hand off! They should put a bell on you.”

Stan laughs under his breath. “Oh, they’ve tried, trust me,” he mutters darkly. “Besides, that’s what you get for not paying attention.”

“I am paying attention,” you lie. “I was just…. Thinking.”

“About what?” Stan asks, in a way that suggests he already knows. He probably does.

Stan is the only other person besides yourself who’s aware of your affection for Ford.

The crush had started small, blossoming slowly over time into something more significant, and Stan had worked it out before you’d even caught it yourself.

For all his faults, the guy is as perceptive as they come and admittedly, he’s a lot of fun in his own right. He’s cantankerous and rough around the edges, and yet he’s got a heart of gold that he hides deep underneath his gaudy chains and string vests. At first, he’d been grumpy and standoffish about your presence, despite being the one to hire you in the first place, but as time has gone by and you’ve proven yourself to be competent at both the work and at giving as good you get, he’s dropped his guard and dragged you into his jokes and games.

Although he’s less than thrilled about your private sentiments towards his brother, he's charming in his own special way and he only ever uses it to rag on you when he’s feeling mean. To the best of your knowledge, he hasn’t said a word to anyone else about it. Stan is an ass, but he’s not cruel.

And while you’re not going to divulge your most intimate thoughts to him, you’ll always rise to a little back and forth with him. He seems to enjoy having a verbal sparring partner.

“How old did you say your brother was again?” You ask with feigned innocence, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“What?” Stan grunts, folding the top of his paper down enough to glower at you over it.

“I said, remind me how old your brother is again,” you repeat, turning your attention back to watching Ford lean down to stretch his hamstrings again. It looks like he’s cooling down for the day now which means he’ll be doing static stretches for the next ten minutes, and every time he does so you’re treated to a wonderful view of his ass.

“Same age as me,” Stan says, and at your silence he tacks on: “We’re twins,” like you’re an idiot.

“So….?”

“He’s sixty-two, genius.”

“Huh,” you mutter quietly. “Interesting….”

It's hard to remember when Ford is so agile and active, and for all your interest in him, you've never actually asked his age. Sixty-two is perfectly doable though, in every conceivable sense of the word…..

Stan rustles his paper again. “If you’re thinkin’ about what I think you’re thinkin’ about, and I know you are, don’t even think about it.”

You snort. He has such a way with words.

"I told you last time, stay away from him. He's...." Stan pauses, as though he intends to say something else but thinks better of it. "He's old enough to be your father."

“I don’t have a father,” you say absentmindedly.

It’s Stan’s turn to snort now. “Y’know, that makes a lot of sense, actually.”

You tear your gaze away from Ford’s routine to flip Stan the bird, sticking your tongue out for good measure before you reach for the glass mixing bowl to your right. Now that your evening matinee is ending, you really ought to get a move on with dinner.

“Anyway, I didn’t hire you to gawp at my brother like he’s a piece of meat on the discount shelf,” Stan grouches. “You’re s’posed to be cooking.”

“I'm not gawping, I just happen to be facing the same way that he's doing all his stuff in,” you say defensively, before adding in a muttered: “Besides, he definitely wouldn’t be on the discount shelf.”

“Uh huh,” Stan says, clearly not believing a word.

Rather than defend your actions, you focus on your work: Tonight's dinner is wild mushroom pie. You've only made it once before but it's nice and filling, and you're supposed to be helping everyone eat better. Bad diets run in the family apparently (although where Ford is concerned, he just as often skips meals altogether some days) and so far, they've all been amenable to trying something new. The kids had been reluctant to test out vegetables at first but after a few valiant efforts to make them as palatable as possible they'd come round.

A lot of the work is already done; a pot of stock is simmering away on the hob, the onions from earlier are ready to be tossed into the slowly-warming frying pan and a red, ceramic pie dish is neatly lined with pastry and ready to go whenever you need it. For now, the next task is to prepare the star ingredient: Wild mushrooms.

You’ll be the first to admit, quite happily, that you're not the most outdoorsy of people and you're going to cheat a little bit on the ‘wild’ requirements. You'd picked up a packet of the things last weekend at the supermarket with the intention of doing one thing or another with them, and it does say on the label that they're wild, so you'll let yourself off on that one. Although, knowing Gravity Falls you're really hoping that ‘wild’ isn't a play on words and they turn out to be some kind of feral man-eating fungi. You're not in the mood to be hunted down by a hungry creature today.

Leaving your pots and pans to simmer, you check in the pantry for the little box only to come up empty handed. There's no sign of it anywhere in there, not even when you rummage around right at the back, and you call out to Stan in confusion: “Have you seen the mushrooms I brought back last week?”

“The ones in the brown container?” Stan asks.

“Yeah….”

“Mabel fed ‘em to Waddles last night,” he says, and when you stick your head around the pantry door to stare at him in disbelief, he shrugs without looking up. “What was I supposed to do, tell her no?”

You know what he means; She’s upstairs right now giving the damn pig a manicure makeover with your old (and apparently animal safe) nail polishes because you hadn’t had it in you to deny her them when she’d been upset about her own limited supplies.

It’s extraordinarily hard to refuse Mabel anything and you can appreciate the difficulty, but still.

“Stan, I told you what I was planning to cook tonight!” You groan, kicking the pantry door shut. “How am I supposed to make a mushroom pie with no mushrooms?”

You can’t exactly nip to the store today either. Every single shop in town is shut. The news this morning had warned of a major storm blowing in and informed everyone that they best stay at home lest they keep an inflatable raft in their back pocket, and no one sells those outdated things anymore. Too many accidental indoor deployments, apparently.

According to Ford, this place is susceptible to irrational weather spells and the increasingly aggressive changes in pressure and temperature that have spawned with global warming have only made them more volatile. Last summer there had been a spate of hailstorms that had puked up football-sized pieces of ice and smashed the windscreen of your car to pieces. You’re still sore about that one….

“What am I supposed to do?” You lament, sparing a miserable glance at the half-done recipe on the stove.

From behind you, a deep voice makes you jump: “Is something wrong?”

You almost leap out of your skin, swivelling on the spot to find the source hovering in the doorway of the kitchen.

Both brothers have the ability to be supernaturally quiet when they want to be. While Stan uses his subtlety less often, Ford skulks around like a well practised alley cat a lot of the time and he frequently scares the shit out of you. He must have finished his routine and crept back inside unannounced.

He gives you an apologetic smile, holding one hand up to ease your fear. “Apologies,” he laughs under his breath. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Ford is still dressed in his workout clothes, his thick, wavy hair roguishly dishevelled and slightly damp at the temples, and he looks just as lovely up close as he had done from the window. Perhaps even lovelier.

You swallow thickly, your brain short circuiting at the sight of him. “Uh, yes?” You say, though it's more of a question than an answer.

Ford looks at you expectantly, evidently waiting for you to expand on your problem, and Stan smirks at your lack of grace.

You shake your head minutely, desperately pulling yourself together and hoping he'll assume your speechless state is just because he's made you jump and not because your heart is climbing up your throat.

“I'm making pie,” you say, jerking your thumb over at the pots. “And someone,” You pause to fix Stan with an annoyed look and he rolls his eyes. “Let Mabel feed them all to Waddles, and…. I don’t have a back up plan.”

You feel a little stupid admitting it aloud.

Ford hums thoughtfully, heavy brows creasing together as he leans against the doorframe.

“That's quite the conundrum….” He says, frowning at the flagstone tiles under your feet.

His dark eyes flicker back and forth quickly, and you can tell he's trying to think up a solution.

After a long pause, he snaps his fingers and speaks up again: “You know, I did stumble across a nice little patch of mushrooms not far from here about a month ago. We could take a walk up there and grab some, if you'd like?”

“In the forest?” You ask, brows raised.

“Where else?” Ford grins, and you feel your stomach fill with butterflies. “They're edible, of course, I've tested them myself.”

“Are you telling me you ate random mushrooms you found on the ground, Doctor Pines?” You ask, mildly appalled. “They could have killed you.”

Ford waves a hand dismissively. “Unlikely. My travels have given me something of an iron stomach. It takes more than a Death Cap to put me down these days.”

At the mention of ‘travels’, you perk up a bit.

Ford's history is more than a little murky to you. In the time you’ve been working for the family, you’ve only heard second-hand snippets or passing mentions of his alleged escapades. The kids have let slip to you several times about his adventures and, despite initially assuming they'd been making things up for fun, the stories had eventually begun to seem a little too consistent to simply be make-believe.

One evening, when the kids had been safely tucked up in bed and Ford had been locked away in his study, you’d brought the subject up to Stan over a nightcap on the porch.

Stan had sighed, lit a cigar, and sworn you to secrecy before giving you a rough outline of his brother’s complex background: his outstandingly impressive academic history, their less-than-ideal family rift and some kind of accident that had sent Ford careening into, quite literally, another dimension. Stan hadn’t gone into excessive detail, and you hadn’t pushed despite desperately wanting to, but by his own admission he had felt that if you were to be working around them then you’d be better off at least having some idea of their strange history.

And strange it is.

You yourself have only lived in Gravity Falls for the better part of eighteen months and becoming accustomed to the weirdness of this place has been unusually easy. Residents take the bizarre in such casual stride that you’re more likely to stick out should you make a fuss about it all and after a while, seeing the odd oddity around had quickly become the norm.

At Stan’s vague reveal of his brother’s disappearance and, as everyone else calls them, his travels, the notion had been surprisingly easy to fathom in the context of such an already weird place. Utterly incredible, yet somehow very in line with this town.

Ford has never brought it up to you himself beyond a rare, fleeting mention, but you’re aware that he’s apparently spent significant time in places that other people might only dream of.

You’re sure he knows of your vague awareness but you know better than to poke around in other people’s sore wounds without permission.

Stan had warned that neither he nor his brother were predisposed to telling everyone and anyone about his time away and you can’t really blame them. From what you know (and can imagine), it can’t have been all fun and games.

“I think he’s got, like, PTSD or somethin’,” Stan had said that night, sounding genuinely heartbroken about it. “So don’t go sniffing around him, alright? He’s…. It’s difficult. Everyone’s been through a lot. Maybe we’ll tell you about it properly one day.”

You understand, of course. Whatever has gone on in their lives is clearly significant and you’re still an outsider. A year is no time at all in the grand scheme of things and they’re a tightly-knit, protective family. They’ve no reason to fill you in on their traumatic family history just because you help around the house and you’ve no right to know it, but you’re willing to earn their trust and if the stories come with it, then so be it.

Although slow to start, things have been going well so far and you’re closer than ever with them, so every titbit Ford drops has you on tenterhooks immediately.

“Besides,” Ford says, still on the subject of his thrilling mushroom discoveries, “their lack of toxicity isn’t even the most exciting part!” He adjusts his glasses and you can tell he's gearing up into scientist-mode.

Behind you, Stan sighs, long-suffering.

“I thought they tasted significantly more intense than a regular mushroom, so once I’d confirmed that they were safe for general human consumption, I asked Dipper to try them. He reported them to be, in his words, 'beefy'. Now, Umami is the most commonly associated flavour with regard to mushrooms because of naturally occurring glutamate, but monosodium glutamate, which would deepen the flavour even more and fall in line with mine and Dipper's taste tests, isn't, and I doubt the gnomes are out there spraying crops with MSG. They haven't the tools for that, I've checked. Anyway, I asked Mabel to try them and she said they tasted, quote, ‘like chocolate stirred by puppies and angels’,”

Here, Ford pauses to laugh fondly before he goes on:

“Which is most certainly not a common flavour of mushroom. So my hypothesis is that they change taste based on whoever touches them and I've been meaning to test them again, seeing as we ate the first batch before I could record the findings properly. We'd be killing two birds with one stone, really.”

You have to fight back a smile. The way he lights up when he talks about his stupid fucking mushrooms is beyond cute and you always enjoy watching him get passionate about his projects, especially when he veers off course on silly tangents that he deems relevant.

But Ford has never asked you to accompany him before which makes this event all the more alluring. It's a privilege to be invited along and as much as you want to jump at the chance, you do have one worry:

“What about the storm?”

At the table, Stan pushes his chair back with a screech and stands up. “Exactly. TV said it's gonna be a bad one and I'm not paying for another newspaper ad if you kill our housekeeper just because you wanna show off again.”

Ford sputters. “I'm not showing off, Stanley! This is about science!”

It should be worrying that his main concern is his pride over your potential death-by-negligence, but the way the top of his ears turn red at his brother's accusation overrules your concern. He's disgustingly adorable when he gets embarrassed.

Dipper chooses that exact moment to trot past his great uncle's side and into the kitchen, giving you a bright, exhausted smile. He’s shed his workout gear for a t-shirt and a fresh pair of sweats, and his hair is slightly damp. “Dinner smells good,” he yawns. “I'm starving. I got ten whole reps in today, right, Grunkle Ford?” He looks especially proud about it.

Ford shucks off his ire to give his nephew a warm smile. “That you did, my boy. Up two compared to last week, by my calculations. You're going to be giving me a run for my money before the summer is over.”

Dipper rubs the back of his neck, bashful, but the way he's beaming betrays his excitement. “I wouldn't go that far….”

“Nice work, dude,” you grin, offering a hand out for a high five.

He takes the bait and slaps your palm with his before fetching himself a soda. “So, how long ‘til dinner?”

You wince inwardly. He'll be hungry enough to eat a horse by now and you can't let him subsist on snacks after all the exercise he's done today. It won't help him build the muscle you know he so desperately wants if all he eats are chips, dips and sodas.

“You better stock up on snacks tonight, kid,” Stan chuckles as he reaches for his own bag of chips that he already has open the table top. “Somebody forgot to get ingredients.”

You shoot Stan a venomous look and at Dipper's disappointed little ‘wait, what?’, you turn back to Ford. Storm be damned, the idea of letting down a child makes you feel worse than getting stuck in a downpour ever could, and you know you'll regret it but what other choice do you have? You've done stupider things for less.

“You're sure the patch isn't far from here?” You ask Ford, giving in with a sigh. “And we'll beat the storm?”

Ford beams at your change of heart, and that, combined with the knowledge of a well-fed charge, instantly makes your agreement worth it. His moods vary like the wind sometimes and you’re always eager to see him happy because you know that it means he’ll spend more time talking to you.

“We'll be in and out in under an hour, you have my word,” he assures you. “I know that place like the back of my hand.”

You sigh again. “Fine. I'll go with you to get the mushrooms.”

Dipper slips back out of the kitchen. Usually, you're sure he'd inquire about your task and ask to come along, but it seems he really is thoroughly exhausted from his gym session and he takes an early leave. Poor kid.

Ford nods, pleased. “Give me a moment to shower and change. I'll put together some supplies and then we can leave.”

“Sure,” you smile. “And thank you, Doctor Pines. I appreciate the help.”

Ford grins, giving you a nod, and then he’s following his nephew out of the kitchen, sweeping down the hallway to sort out his things.

You make use of the spare time to tidy up a little and lower the gas on the stock as low as it will go, then take the pan off the heat. If Ford means what he says about getting in and out quickly, you might have a chance at saving the rest of the prep and it would be a shame to have to start everything over again.

You clean up your workstation and make sure everything is safely put aside before taking a seat at the table to wait.

It's then that you realise Stan is watching you closely. He’s smirking, and it always makes you a little nervous when he wears that mischievous look.

“What?” You ask him hesitantly.

“You can just call him Ford, y’know,” Stan says, slumping back in his chair and looking amused. “Pretty sure he wouldn’t mind….”

You roll your eyes, shrugging one shoulder. “Not this again. I told you before, he's never asked me to call him anything else. I did the same for you when I first started, didn't I?”

“Yeah, and I told you to stop because you made me sound like my old man,” Stan gripes through a mouthful of potato chips.

“Exactly, and that's your prerogative,” you say, a little defensively.

You're telling the truth; Ford hasn’t ever asked you to call him something less formal, even if you might like to try the taste of something more intimate on your tongue. “Ford has earned his title, I’m not going to take it away from him.”

Stan snorts. “Oh, I bet he loves that.”

“What?”

“You, stroking his ego and running around after him like a lost puppy,” Stan says, amused.

“First of all, I run around for everyone in this house like a lost puppy, it's literally my job,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Secondly, I’m not stroking his ego. The guy’s smart and he’s got an armful for doctorates. I’m just…. Acknowledging that.”

“Uh huh,” Stan says, sceptical.

“What now?” You huff.

“Nothing.”

“Stan,” you say sternly. “Don’t play coy, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Oh come on,” he says, trying and failing to keep the smirk off of his face. “Could you be any more obvious? You're worse than Dipper was when he came back after all that time, hanging off his every word and getting all googly-eyed over him like the sun shines out of his ass.”

“I don’t-“

“‘Yes Doctor Pines, no Doctor Pines’,” Stan simpers, putting on a poor imitation of your voice. “Take me out to the woods and experiment on me, Doctor Pines!’”

You can feel your face heat up. “You're such an asshole sometimes, you know that? And he isn’t experimenting on me, he asked me to help hi-”

“Show me your magic mushroo -“

Someone clears their throat in the kitchen doorway and both you and Stan whip your heads around to follow the source of the noise. Much to your horror, Ford is waiting for you, clad in jeans and a trademark red turtleneck along with a pair of filthy hiking boots. There's a sizable backpack slung over one of his broad shoulders and he doesn’t look very amused at his brother's antics.

“Are you done?” He asks, levelling Stan with a searing look.

Stan opens his mouth, still grinning, and Ford cuts him off instantly. “Actually forget that, I know you’re not,” he says. “You never are.”

Then he turns his attention to you.

You’re trying very hard not to melt into a humiliated puddle on the floor and under his gaze you feel yourself slip just a little further down into your seat.

His gaze softens somewhat, almost sympathetic, and he gestures vaguely towards the front door down the hall. “If you're not too busy being harassed, I'm ready to set off,” he says.

You really rather wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole right now, but alas, you do need those stupid mushrooms…..

“Sure,” you say faintly, scrambling up from your seat.

Ford heads off towards the foyer and you try to compose yourself with a deep breath before you follow him, glancing back to stick your tongue out at Stan again.

Stanley laughs at your awkwardness and as you hurriedly trot towards the hall, he pretends to fan himself dramatically.

“Three bags full, Doctor Pines,” Stan grins, and then you're shutting the kitchen door on him before you put your job on the line with the insult you're lining up in your head.

Stan thinks he's endlessly funny when it comes to winding you up over Ford and if you show how much he gets under your skin with it, he'll only get worse. You think he might be doing it in the hopes of putting you off his brother, but he’ll need to try a lot harder than that.

Instead of encouraging him, you follow in Ford's footsteps down the short, oak panelled hallway until you reach the front door.

Ford has already donned his reliable tan trench coat, patiently waiting for you to pull your own jacket and boots on. So much of the town is woven between the forest that you practically live in hiking shoes these days and it doesn't take you long to be readily dressed and warm.

Once you’re sorted, Ford swings the heavy oak front door open. A well-timed gust of cool wind blusters in as he does so, ruffling your clothes and hair, and instantly you realise the weather is much more intimidating when face to face with it.

It's incredibly dull out here. In the short time that Ford and Dipper have ended their routine and you've packed your things up, the sky has gotten impossibly darker. The winds must have herded more clouds overhead than you’d realised and the light has faded so much that you'd be forgiven for assuming it to be almost night time. When you check your watch, however, it still reads barely 6PM.

Ford must catch the concern on your face because he picks up on your worry straight away. “It's just overcast,” he reassures you. “I’ve seen plenty of storms like this in the time I’ve lived here. We'll have enough time to make it there and back before it gets too dark, and I brought torches as a precaution.”

That makes you feel a little better, at least. You know he’s an experienced outdoorsman and he’d probably be able to find his way around here blindfolded and hogtied. If you have to go out in risky weather with anyone, Ford is your best bet.

With the stride of a uniquely confident man, Ford steps out into the evening with a sharp breath inward and a contented sigh, taking in the awaiting scent of petrichor. He holds the door open for you with one hand and gestures for you to follow with the other, offering you a rakish grin.

“Shall we?”

And when he smiles at you like that, what choice do you have?

A/N: Yay! You made it to the end!

So firstly, I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to post another work! These take a bit of time for me to write because I tend to write the entire work in one go from start to finish before I begin posting and I've also been unwell/busy, so it took a backseat for a bit but here we are!

Secondly, as I posted at the start, this is going to be a small series and will start as a decently sized multi-chapter fic. There will be smut and I already have most of it written. Your patience will be rewarded!

Please consider supporting me on ao3 also :)

#stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines/reader #ford pines/reader #stanford pines #ford pines #reader insert #surprise! Figured I'd give you guys something while I finish the rest #gravity falls/reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls

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