#if this is a rambling mess I'm sorry I just LOVE HIM SO MUCH :') | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

huexuri · 4 months

Text

!! keep talking ⋆ — k.th

NSFW, MDNI!!!

summary: smut w little plot, taehyun likes ur voice like a bit too much

warnings: fem!reader, switch!reader, switch!tyun, lots of dirty talk, pillow humping, masturbating, video call mutual masturbating

wc: 1.9k

taehyun misses your voice. a lot.

the both of you used to live in the same apartment to accommodate transportation to your designated campuses. until, taehyun had found a more convenient place to stay for a while before he would come back to live with you.

it was supposed to be just a few months, but those few months felt like years to taehyun. he missed the way you would come home and talk to him about things that happened that day, ramble to him about useless things. he never really paid attention to your silly stories; he only ever really enjoyed listening to the tone of your voice, the way the words roll off your tongue like butter. it's like music to his ears, the way your voice sounds like silk to him. he'd listen to you ramble on forever if he could.

especially when you sing your favorite songs over and over again, bustling around in the kitchen for any snacks, taehyun always thought of you as a smart girl with a pretty face and the voice of an angel.

he never expected he'd miss your voice so much.

so much so, he'd simply grow hard listening to your voicemails — feeling as if he's deprived of your voice, he's replaying them over and over again, wishing it was whatever you said whispered in his ear, even better if that voice of yours is put to use, moaning in his ear and calling out his name as you grind down on him; making sure all that rings in his puny head for the rest of his life are your moans.

my god, your voice. it's dizzying to him, hypnotizing even. he doesn't know what it is in your voice that he loves so much. like some type of drug. he loves everything about you as his best friend — but your voice,, it's everything to him.

so, imagine the guilt that washes over him when you ask if you could video call with him and play games. he's going to hear your voice for the first time in forever. shouldn't he be ecstatic?

no, because he knows he's going to fucking bust the moment you start to speak.

“taehyun? why isn't your camera on?” you spoke through the phone, half your face in frame.

“no, nothing. if i turn on my camera it'll be very laggy.” taehyun chuckled, a tinge of fluster behind his words.

“okay then! you should join me now, i'm already in game. i sent you the code earlier.” you said before putting your phone down so your camera faces the ceiling.

“o-okay.”

you guys played for a few rounds before talking again, and taehyun doesn't know how he survived listening to you yap for the entire time the both of you were playing. not in a bad way, but in a way where he's surprised and relieved he didn't make a mess of his shorts.

"anyways, finals are killing me. i feel like i've been living in the library," you complained like you usually would.

"ugh, tell me about it!” taehyun scoffed as he waited for you to continue the conversation.

"organic chem is so hard. it's like a bunch of nonsense i'm looking at.” you continued.

"at least you're not doing what i'm doing. it's like a different language. i keep questioning my life choices every time i open the textbook," taehyun said, his voice slightly shaky, but you thought nothing of it.

you nod at the camera. “uh huh, i get you. these days i think i've been okay though? i hung out with sumin and yeeun at karaoke recently. you know, we sang till our throats were hoarse. and also—”

your words go in one of taehyun's ears and come out the other. no, to him that's not important, not as important as the sound of you talking. all he can think of is how he's filled with guilt as he slips a fist beneath his boxers, grabbing onto his already leaking erection and jerking off… to your voice.

i'm really sorry, the thought rings in his head over and over again as his cock springs out of his boxers the more he pulls his waistband down to his thighs, leaning back against his gaming chair.

the tip of his cock glossy and starting to become a pinkish hue, he pleasures himself, free hand clutching his headphones to listen to your voice clearer, increasing the volume of the call.

he bites his lips as he closes his eyes as he starts to near his high.

“—she literally bumped into me and didn't say anything! she looked at me up and down with a dirty look, like i swear i would've—” you go silent. “taehyun?” you suddenly ask.

taehyun jolts from his seat, letting go of his cock as he readjusts his position.

“y-yeah? what?” he responds, throat dry as his adam's apple bobs up and down.

“are you even listening?” you frown at him through the camera.

“yeah,, uh, of course i am.” taehyun clears his throat.

you sigh. “okay, because you're awfully quiet. anyways, so she hit me—”

fuck, that was close. he thinks. his hand slowly picks up it's pace and he's stroking his cock again, back arching against the backrest of the chair as he throws his head back, mouth slightly agape and huffing.

“i don't even know what's her problem! right, tae??” you ask for his approval.

“r-right, ss—aah, keep talking, ‘m so close,” he whispers, his voice cracking. he doesn't register why you went quiet for an awkward 10 seconds before it finally clicks and he clasps a hand over his mouth.

“taehyun.. are you touching yourself ...?” you realize why his camera is off and why he seemed like he wasn't listening. then, silence. “taehyu—”

“i'm so sorry, y/n!!” taehyun blurts out desperately, with nothing else to say, he goes quiet again. guilt travels all over his body in the form of goosebumps as he thinks of what kind of stupid pervert he is, when all you wanted to do with him was chat.

“fuck, dude. if you just wanted to jerk off to my voice you should've told me.”

“huh? wait what?” taehyun's eyes soften.

“it’s kinda hot.” you mumbled as you shifted your camera down to your chest, touching it and rubbing the plushness. “come on, turn on your camera. don't be shy.” you said in a more demanding tone, testing the waters on what he liked the most.

“fuck, y/n, don't do this to me. your voice is…” taehyun sighed as he turned on his camera, showing his fucked out face, hazy eyes and swollen pink lips, glossy with drool all over them.

“you have a thing for my voice?” you asked as you smiled, positioning your camera slightly far away from your chair so he could see you fully.

“i've loved your voice since the beginning of time, i just… i-i don't know. ever since i moved out i realized i collapsed at the sound of your voice just so much more easily..” taehyun also adjusts his camera perfectly so that the frame cuts at his lower abdomen. you can see his shirt ride up above his pecs and his abs slightly moist with sweat.

“tell me what you want me to say then, this is your chance.” you fondle with your clothed breasts in front of the camera, nipples perking up and visible on the cloth, and taehyun slightly flinches at the sight.

“sssshit, i can't focus when you look and sound like that, stop doing that.” taehyun trembles under his breath as he fists his cock again. you can see his hand moving but you can't see his cock out. for some reason, the excitement turned you on way more.

“it's okay, take your time.” you said gently as your hands traveled under your shirt.

“fuck, need you to moan so badly. just whatever, fucking need you to use that voice of yours. please.” taehyun begged, his voice raspy and out of it.

“really?” you grabbed a pillow nearby and placed it beneath you. wearing nothing but a pair of dolphin shorts, you held on to the chair as you rocked your hips back and forth, arching your back to find the angle, starting slow and throwing your head back.

“p-please watch me, tae. i'd grind on your cock like this if you were—aah, mmfh~” you found your pace, looking at your phone screen with dazed eyes. you see taehyun running his fingers through his disheveled hair, holding on to the headphones as he bites his lips and fists his cock at unimaginable speeds.

“talk,” he breathily orders as his hips jitter in his hands.

“show me you're jerking off first,” you said, and taehyun sits slightly further away from the camera, showing an angle of him fisting himself.

“yeah, stroking that cock because my voice turns you on that bad, huh?” you chuckle as you increase your pace, your cunt rubbing onto the surface of the silk pillowcase. “f-fuuuck, tyunnie. a-aah—feels so goddamn good, just wish you were here so badly—!”

“yeah? i'll fuck your ability to walk out of you if i were there right now, holy shit.” taehyun pants and groans as he spits onto his cockhead. “does it feel good? does my cock rubbing against your cunt feel good?” taehyun fists his shaft to simulate the pillow you're humping.

“yeah, oh fuck, fuckfuck—” your mouth is wide open and your head is thrown back as you ride the pillow at incomprehensible speeds, your pussy throbbing and pulsing against the fabric as your slick begins to stain the cover. “you'd feel even better inside me, mmh~”

“keep talking like that and i'll actually go insane, spewing nothing but filth out of that pretty mouth of yours.” taehyun's hips thrust upwards into his fist as he watches you reach your high.

“isn't that what you wanted, taehyun? got off of my voice because you wanted me to moan and whimper in your ear?” you continued to hump the pillow as you felt yourself go dizzy. “gonna cum, a-aah–!”

“you're gonna make me— holy shit,” taehyun's moans became irregular and gradually louder. eventually after you came back from seeing stars, you could see his load splattered all over his fist and abs.

you stared at the screen blankly, mind barely able to function as the both of you pant heavily.

“i'm coming back tomorrow, i don't care.” taehyun remarks as he puts his pants back on and wipes the stripes of cum off of his abdomen.

“isn't it inconvenie—”

“i don't care about conveniency as long as i get to fuck you immediately after i see you again.” taehyun firmly said with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his fucked out face.

“promise?” you said, smiling at the camera.

“promise.”

later that night, you're shocked to see taehyun standing at your door with a bunch of huge ass bags and a pair of his favorite sneakers.

“you're still holding on to what you said?” you asked him as you let him in with a giggle. “come, i'll help you put these things down first.”

“i don't make promises i can't keep, love. i missed that voice of yours so fucking much, you have no idea… over the phone was clearly not enough.”

you cleared your throat. “i think i do have an idea, after what happened this afternoon..”

#taehyun x reader smut #taehyun scenarios #taehyun x reader #taehyun smut #taehyun #kang taehyun #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #txt smut #xuri writes

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glitter-epoch · 7 months

Note

Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee

HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!

[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood

“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.”

you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...

and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.

“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...”

zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling.

“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.”

you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked.

“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.”

and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory.

i’ve been personally invited to the office.

not like it’s the first time, though.

zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too).

“lay down,” zayne commands.

you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up.

“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.”

“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.

“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.”

you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.

“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.”

zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.

he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad.

“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.”

“and that’s bad?”

“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.”

“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.”

“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.

“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.”

“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.”

he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.

“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.”

“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.”

you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose.

“ouch,” you hiss.

you realize you’re probably stressing him out.

“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse.

“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.”

you nod. “sure.”

“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.

zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says,

“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?”

your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.”

“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.”

your eyes blow out like glass.

zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.”

“oh, how nice of you.”

he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.

he inhales at the sound.

the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly.

his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest.

you bristle. “god, no.”

“then why are you staring?”

you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say,

“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.”

he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”

the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think.

zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.”

you nod. “sure.”

he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.”

he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.

zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures.

“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.”

you nod. “sure.”

“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.”

you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.”

his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose.

“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?”

you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.”

your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.

“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.”

he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine.

“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill.

“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.

you peel one eye open and then the other.

“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.”

“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.”

the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident.

“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.”

“okay.”

his brows lift. “okay?”

again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.”

“no apologies,” zayne says.

he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.

you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.

“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.”

well, i can’t now.

“got it,” you grind out.

“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...”

and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth.

“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.”

the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.

his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.

“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?”

“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.”

you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.”

“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.”

the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.

“no,” you gasp. too fast.

zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?”

you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.”

oh, sure.

he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.”

“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying.

zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.

you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.

he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done.

“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.”

you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-”

“watch.”

for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?”

zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.

“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.”

you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.”

he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.

your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand.

he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up.

you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.

“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs.

“where?” you croak.

zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.”

he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.

you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word.

“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.”

and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.

zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more.

as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.

“you like to watch me work,” he hums.

his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over.

“shut up,” you bite.

he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving.

“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.

his pupils are swollen. “sure.”

you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.

“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.

you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches.

“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare.

“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.”

you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.”

as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says,

“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.”

“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.”

he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins.

“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?”

you swallow. “of course.”

“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds.

“oh, sure,” you tease.

his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.

zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.”

he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’

☄. *. ⋆

this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deep space x reader #l&ds zayne #l&ds x reader #l&ds #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #l&ds fic #l&ds smut

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fortheb0ys · 4 months

Note

I wanna dress Will Graham up all nice and pretty just to mess him all up again :3

BROOO YOU GOT ME THINKING!! Give me like two sentences and I could go on and on if I'm feeling it. So I offer you my ramblings🤲

Does anyone remember that one Criminal Minds episode where this lady collects human dolls?!?

Well, make that into male reader insert <(´･ω･`<)

CW Sorry, i realized I don't put these often : reader is a serial killer and will is profiling him, reader views people as objects, reader can't tell what's real and will uses that to his advantage, will refers to himself as a 'sex doll', murder (not too descriptive), reader loses his virginity, sex, stalking, kidnapping, obsessive behavior NOT PROOFREAD ENDING IS RUSHED!

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

You watched Will from a distance, become fascinated by Will's beauty. His curly hair, his facial structure, his build, his everything.

He haunted you. You saw him everywhere you went.

Will was different from the rest. A body of pure perfection. The others ones in your collection were unamusing, marred in compaison to him.

Once you've had gotten your hands on him, your collection fell neglected. Left on the shelf to collect dust. Disposed of them when they broke.

Will was your prized doll like one of those vintage Christmas Barbies.

Once you've finally gotten your hands on him you noted he wasn't in perfect condition. It was quite clear under closer eyes, a few nicks and scratches. You'd treat him better than anyone else would. You wanted to keep him from farther damage.

At first, Will was a bit hard to play with. His face model was always in a scowl. Brows knitted in anger.

You thought about redoing his face, scraping off the base and painting a new one. Thoughts about the last time you've done it deterred your decision. Their faces had always came out disfigured, never getting quite right.

His hard shell didn't deter your love for him. You treated him gently, bought things for him, making small conversations at your little tea parties. His anger was met with your kindness.

It took a while till Will's shell chipped away. His scowl disappeared, replaced with a friendly smile. Happiness to see you home from you doll hunting.

Soon he became the best doll you've owned. A pleasure to have company with.

His voice box sounded much different from the others. The other doll yelled crude obscenities. Of course, their angry words didn't last long as taking out their boxes quieted them down.

Will was kinder. He was more willing to carry a conversation. He'd let you play with him without protest. Let you play with him, brush his hair, change his clothes. The others were hard to move, their sticky joints refusing to move.

Of course, the hunt for new dolls didn't stop. Once Will met these new friends, he became cold. Back to the old Will.

Will never liked play to nice. Mean and unpleasant words were barked at the others. They broke quicker than anticipated. You'd find Will covered in red, broken dolls at his feet.

He'd plea that he was special. That you couldn't have any other dolls. He was the only one that's supposed to be in your collection. Red, teary eyes begging to be the only doll in your collection.

You pulled him into close embrace, feeling his pounding heartbeat against your chest. Whispered promises as he cried at your every word.

Your precious Will, beautiful yet so broken. You plege devotion solely to him.

Since than you only cared for Will. Every moment was spent with him.

He seemed to enjoy playtime as well. He'd sit quiet and pretty as you changed him. His hands always posed between his legs. His joints bent seamlessly as he shifted in his sit.

One day while picking his clothes for the day, Will made mention that he had working parts down...there. That they'd the react when played with.

He said he was a 'sex doll', that only he's the only one.

He guided you as you were inexperienced. Spoke you through each step. Your fingers nervously stretching him. Your eyes trained on Will's face, looking for any sort of discomfort.

Fingers still he's face contorts. You weren't sure if it was discomfort or pleasure. You weren't going to risk breaking your precious doll by testing which one.

Your hand begins withdrawaling from between him. Before you could do or say anything farther, Will's hand shoots forward to grasp your wrist.

"Don't fucking stop." Will growls as his grip tightly.

His eyes darken, a glint of something beneath them. Like there was a secret to be shared behind blown out pupils. It seems almost sinister.

Your heart skips a beat and your mouth goes dry and all you could do was give him a small nod. Sex brought out this side of an otherwise gentle Will. One you were not willing to challenge.

Once Will felt like he was fully prepped and ready, he made you withdrawal your soaked fingers. With shaking hands gripping your cock, guiding it to his ready hole. A hiss sounding from Will almost made you stop but you wouldn't dare to do that again.

It felt so fucking good. Stinking in inch by inch. His hole stretching to fit your cock. His insides warm and wet. Pleasure consuming your entire being.

Did all dolls feel like this? Why haven't you tried this before?

Once Will completely bottomed out, he gave you a slight squeeze. You had to hold yourself back, nearly cumming after only just a moment.

Your eyes shut tight as your head falls against Will's chest, trying to focus on breathing. Shaking breaths timed with Will's heartbeat.

A sharp kick to your side, a signal that Will wants you to move. Eyes snap open to look deep into Will's. That look still present, now even darker.

"Take it nice and slow." Will spoke sweetly behind a kind smile. He's gentle once again. Will's changes in mood were slightly off putting.

You began to move at a slow pace, sloppy as you tested the water. Thrusts were shallow and somber. Will's hand grip at your hips and begin guiding your movements.

"Follow my lead." He locked eyes while you felt the need to look away.

His hands push you forward establishing a rythm. Pushing in deep to hit something the made Will gasp and pulling out till your tip was the only thing in him.

You tried focusing on keeping the order as you roll your hips into him but everything felt so good your mind went numb. Will's grunts turned into moans as you kept nailing the spot in him that made him sing.

You push your entire weight onto, trying to reach deeper and deeper. Confidence is now yours when Will clenches around you. The heat is suffocating, sweat pools down your back.

One of his hands leaves your hips, guiding yours onto his weaping cock. Your fingers tightens around it, jerking it in rythm with your thrusts. White drips for his tip on his stomach. He's as close as you.

Your thrusts finally lose pace and your thrusts become shallow once again as you feel like the end is near. Will pulls you in a kiss, swallowing your little sounds, cumming together. White paints your bodies.

You pant as you collapse on top of Will. Your eyes fall heavy as you focus on catching your breath.

"Will you stay with me forever, doll?" You plead once the room had fell silent.

"Till time separates us."

You pull Will close, your head against his neck. In that moment he felt real, almost human. Like his heart beat just as yours. Like flesh and bone.

#god i can't tell if I hate this #idk might delete 😕#it's been sitting in my drafts since march it seems #will graham #will graham x male reader #hannibal x male reader #will graham x reader #dom male reader #sub character #hannibal #☆*charlie writes

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sturn-saturn · 8 days

Text

just this once

pairing; fem!reader x bf!matt

warnings: cooch eating <3

a/n: im LITERALLY writing this as im in class LMAOO sorry if it sucks. writing a fanfic in class is crazy.

one thing you and the triplets knew was school fucking sucked. it sucked absolute balls. your dream since you were younger was to be in the medical field and here you are. you're currently in med school majoring in nursing but thankfully this biology course is offered online.

you woke up this morning absolutely exhausted but this class was only 90 minutes so you weren't complaining too much. you were just hoping this would be the quickest 90 minutes of your life.

matt wakes up pretty early as well but his brothers on the other hand love sleeping in. matt usually stayed in the living room while you're in your virtual class. matt lets you use his desk, which gives you the space to focus and just get through the class.

you're currently on the call and you were just exhausted, dozing off, staring off, picking at your cuticles, twirling your hair, you name it. your elbow was on the desk and your head was leaning on your hand until you hear a creak.

you turn to your right and you see your boyfriend peeking through the door. you give him a deadpan look because he knows how easily distracted you are especially when he's around.

luckily your professor doesn't mind if your camera is off as long as you're participating in class. "matt, what are you doing?"

"i'm bored, hungry, and theres nothing on netflix." he explains walking further into his room.

"babe, you know i have a class."

"i know, i know." he whispers walking to you and kissing your head. "are you almost done? i'm hungry."

"god we really need to get you and your brothers into a cooking class."

"honey, i know how to cook. i just choose not to cause i love when you cook, you put so much love into it."

"oh you know how to cook, huh? that salmon you tried to cook the other day says otherwise." you laugh. "i'll be done soon don't worry."

"but i'm hungry now." he whines. "you know what, fuck it."

matt pulls the desk chair away from his desk and sneaks under so hes on his knees facing you.

"m-matt. what are you doing i'm in class!" you yell.

"cameras off, i'm hungry, i'm taking advantage of this." he smirks looking up at you. “you need to keep quiet, sweetheart. can you do that for me?”

“yes.” you breathe out. matt begins to pull your panties down and kisses your inner thigh softly while holding eye contact.

your professor was talking at this point and the only thing you heard come out of his mouth was living organisms. “ms. y/l/n could you explain further?”

“fuck” you mouth looking at matt.

he pulls away from between you and gives you a smirk. “well ms. y/l/n? explain further.”

you unmute the zoom call and do everything you can to refrain from moaning. “a living organism is anything that has life and consists of cells as its basic unit of organization like t-trees, animals, algae, b-bacteria, as well as humans of course.”

“correct, thank you ms.y/l/n.” your professor announces.

you go back on mute and you look down at matt and spread your legs wider to give him access. he taps your legs so you can put your feet on the arms of his chair.

“you’re such a good girl.” matt whispers.

“mmmm” you hum

“and…you…taste…so…good.” he says in between kisses to your clit.

“matt, quit teasing.”

“say please.” with a deadpan look.

“matt, please quit teasing.”

with that, be inserts a finger and your head falls back into the chair. he trusts in and out until you’re a mess. “what you didn’t realize was you and your professor were the only ones left in the call.

“y/n, are there any questions you had for today?” you professor asks.

you almost jump out of your seat when you heard your name from the screen in front of you.

you quickly unmute yourself, “no, professor, great lecture today, looking forward to next week!” you ramble on before you end the call.

“fuck i’m looking forward to getting inside you. get on the bed, sweetheart.” you boyfriend says with a husky voice.

tag list:

@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @khalei-20 @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela @zay-sturns

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staticbleeding · 26 days

Text

⛧°。 ⋆Waiting on the Stars⋆。 °⛧

+:｡.｡　teen Stanford Pines x gn reader　｡.｡:+

The second part!! I was not expecting so much love on my first post on this account! I am so happy y'all enjoyed the first part! Enjoy this <3 warnings : strong language, suggestive language, the usual teen shit pt.1 pt.2

1972 After the night at the pawn shop, Ford hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. It is starting to become painfully obvious. Especially to Ford's twin that has to hear all the midnight ramblings. Will he have to help his brother out, or will fate help Ford himself?

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Ford's POV

I wake up to Stan's snoring. Pushing my glasses onto my face, my feet touch the ground beneath me. I rub my eyes and start to regret not getting much sleep. Looking up at the clock on the bed side table, my heart drops. I'm gonna be late.

"Wake up Stanley. We are going to be late if we don't leave in like 30 minutes! I can't miss the first block", I say as I shake the sleeping man above me. His arm lays down off his bunk.

"Fuck off Sixer we can be a little bit late"

"Stanley it's not going to happen." I say as I stumble out of bed and pull my neatly folded clothes out of the dresser and begin pulling them on.

"Sorry you only get a chance to see your little lover in class man, but ain't no way I am getting up after you kept me awake all night". Stanley grumbles and rolls back over in his bed.

"Please Stanley.." I reluctantly beg my sleeping brother

With a loud groan Stanley jumps off the bed and starts putting on his clothes from the floor.

"Thank you". I sigh out and rush to the kitchen to make some sort of breakfast before we leave.

"Morning dears! You two slept in didn't you?" Ma cheerfully asks as her arms cradle the youngest of the Pines, Shermie.

"Yeah Ma," Stan runs out of our room yelling and leans down to plant kisses on our brother's small head, " Fordsy wouldn't let me get anymore. Couldn't miss out on seeing his little lover." His elbow pokes my side before grabbing his favorite snack.

"Stanford! You didn't tell me you have a little (girl/boyfriend/partner)! I am your mother!" Ma laughs out.

Looking down at my feet I stutter out, "Not exactly.."

"He's too.. s-scared to ask t-them out." Stan poorly attempts to mock me. A loud booming laugh comes out of his mouth.

"Quit it Stanley. I am sure your brother will get the courage soon. When can I meet them?" An overly excited Ma elbows me.

"We have to go Stan. Please. Ma, I haven't even really talked to them. I can't ask them out, let alone invite them over for dinner. Now we must leave." I say before kissing her on the cheek and grabbing Stan to pull out of the door.

Wishing for a quiet ride to school was nothing but fantasy with Stan. I couldn't do more than just stare out the window and wish the long rant of his would end quickly.

"I don't see why you don't just go up and ask them out Ford. They seem like a nice enough person to not throw a drink in your face for asking them out. I take a couple of classes with them. Pretty smart cookie too." My twin's words fall out of his mouth as if he is some expert in relationships.

"I can handle my own relationship ventures Stanley. Thank you but I really don't think they like me back. Hell why would they? I can't even look at them without becoming a mess and stumbling on my words. For all I know, they have a guy already." My hands find my face.

"Ford, they don't have a guy. Please. They ask me about you all the time in class. I may not have a good thing with relationships, but look Sixer, they would be stupid to not like you back," His hand touches my shoulder and squeezes, "but if they don't then more chicks for us when we set sail on the Stan O' War eh??". My stomach tightens at the thought of (Y/N) asking him about me. What did they want to know? Oh God what did Stan tell them?

As the car comes to a stop, I jump out and thank Stanley for the talk. Rushing to class, I find (Y/N) sitting in their usual seat doodling in their note book. I smile and wipe my hands on my pants. Walking over to our partnered seats, I feel my heart race quicken when they look up and smile that smile at me. My face warms quickly. My hand waves at them.

"Thought for a second you weren't gonna show Ford. Started to get worried Stan's driving finally killed you." God there is that smile of theirs.

"Haha.. no no. He just wouldn't get up." I stutter out as my stomach tightens realizing that they just said they worried about me.

"Well I will remember to yell at him later for almost making you late". They laugh and we sit in a comfortable silence.

"So what do you have planned for this weekend?" I swear I see a light blush appear on their face.

"Me?! Oh um.. working probably. Stan hates working the shop on the weekends". I say while looking down at my hands.

"Oh well that sucks. I was gonna see if you wanted to maybe.." They are quickly interrupted by the teacher coming into class with a mumble of sorrys and excuses for being late.

Quickly they turn their focus back to the notebook. It's a little black notebook that has stars they are drawing on the cover. A blush coats their face.

Soon class ends and I watch as they hurry out. This time they turn around and smile at me. My heart skips. I find myself thinking of that one interaction the rest of the day. I walk out of the school and towards the bright red car parked out front. A smile plastered to my face. It fades seeing Stan outside the car holding a way too familiar notebook.

"Don't tell me you took their notebook Stanley! I get wanting to help me but that is insane!" I whisper scream out towards my brother.

"Don't get your panties in a twist Sixer. They left it in class today, but...here check the cover". He tosses the object towards me that I luckily catch. I open the cover and see their name and the words 'If lost call me!' with their number attached. A blush finds my face. Is this the chance I have been waiting for?

"Lets go man. You got a call to make". Stanley laughs and gets into the car.

The car ride home was filled with silence as I went over every possible outcome to this. They could think I was weird for using their number without permission, or ask why Stanley didn't call, or..

My thoughts are quickly stopped as Stan slams on the breaks and parks. I quietly get out of the car and go upstairs. I thank the stars that Stan is working the shop tonight.

I sit in the kitchen watching the phone as if it will grow legs and walk out. My palms sweat against the hard cardboard cover. Stanley walks in to the room whistling. He stares at me and sighs.

"Sixer...seriously? You still haven't called?" He leans across the counter and eyes the notebook.

"This is a really bad idea Stan. I can't do it. I will just hand it to them personally first thing Monday Morning" I sigh and start to stand up to leave. I freeze in my tracks hearing the rotary dial turn.

I whip around and see Stan putting in the numbers I have eyed now for hours.

"Stan wait! Don't you dare!" I run over and go to press the receiver before the call goes through. Too late. Stan laughs and hands me the phone. Walking away with a shit eating grin. I hear the voice I have imagined in my dreams countless times, the voice that causes my body to instantly react, oh God what am I going to say? Do I hang up? I feel like throwing up. My heartbeat I can hear in my ears.

"Hello?"

Too late

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Hahaha gotta love good ol' siblings!

#stanford x reader #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls

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thewintersoldatt · 7 months

Text

SORRY, NOT SORRY -RAFE CAMERON

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!listener

Summary: Rafe can be a “good” boyfriend when he wants to be… with a sprinkle of manipulation of course.

Warnings: Naughty language, Fluff low-key from our toxic daddy, ft. JJ being a chaotic mess.

notes: This audio is set during 1x05. Instead of it being midsummer's, it's the listeners birthday! I've been working on this all week and I'm tired of listening to it on repeat, so if something doesn't add up, it's because I got lazy. And I wish Rafe told me he loved me. 😭

word count: Its audio, my panties are wet and so are yours.

Scene one

JJ: Ah, would you look at this! It's our birthday girl!

You: What are you doing here?

Our cutie patootie rambles on then walks off with the security guard.

During this pause count to about 6 or 7.

You: What the hell did you guys do to his face?

Rafe: We didn't do anything… his face was like that when he…showed up.

You: Well, why did you guys corner him in here?

Rafe: We were just making sure... he knew his place. And that he's not allowed here. If anything, we were doing you and your parents a favor, I mean, god knows what he already took.

You: You promised me you wouldn’t start anything tonight, Rafe.

Rafe: Can you give us a minute? I'd like to talk to my girlfriend... alone, so get out. Alright, um, can I speak first since you wanna do this right now?

You: Go ahead.

Rafe: How long have you lived here?

You: I was born here.

Rafe: Yes you were born here, but where - where did you grow up?

You: Figure 8.

Rafe: Yes, you grew up on Figure 8. And where did... our pal JJ grow up?

You: The cut.

Rafe: The Cut. and that's exactly my point, baby. We're kooks. And... what is JJ again?

You: Jesus, Rafe don't start-

Rafe: Come on, you wanna talk, let’s talk. What about communication? Isn’t that what we're supposed to be working on?

Count to 3 during this pause.

You: He’s a pouge.

Rafe: See that wasn't so hard, now was it? Now, let me make something clear, and stop me if you get a little confused - you and me. We’re practically royalty on this island. We’re together for a reason. And before you saying, yes I do love you. I always have and I always will. You’re mine. You’re it for me, sweetheart. And… you’re a kook. So, start acting like one before I do something about it, mkay?

You: God, you’re a dick you know that? How about you leave too.

Rafe: Ugh, look I’m sorry, alright? It’s just… it’s just when I saw him on the patio talking to Sarah I lost it. This is supposed to be your day and I didn’t want him ruining it. Kind of like when… uh… we switched out the coke with flour and gave it to Top because he ate your cupcakes.

You: And how is that relevant to this?

Rafe: It’s sorta the same thing. You - you worked hard on those. Uh, he ate them. I was pissed because they were for me. And you were upset because I wanted to punch him in the throat. Tomato, tomahto. Blah, blah, blah. See you’re smiling, I love it when you smile.

You: You’re such a sap.

Rafe: I love you.

You: I love you too.

Rafe: And again, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene, I just didn’t know how else to get him to leave. You know how JJ and his friends are. All of them are drawn to us like a moth to a flame. Now, uh, can we put this behind us and get back to the party?

You: Thats the smartest thing that’s come out of your fat mouth all night, baby.

Rafe: By the way, I really do think he took something from your bedroom.

You: What?

Rafe: I saw him come down from the hallway, unless he took something from your dad’s office?

You: You’re serious?

Rafe: As a heart attack.

You: But… I’ve never done anything to him.

Rafe: That’s what they do though. You should know this by now. They butter you up, just to take whatever they can right from under our noses. It’s sick, if I’m being honest.

You: So much for trying to be civil.

Rafe: I know, yeah, I’ll talk to your dad, and um, see what we can do. But for now, let’s go celebrate. It’s not everyday someone turns 17.

@rafesapologist @rvfecamerons @sadfury @rafesthroatbaby @rafesaddiction @hockeybabe87 @rafeinterlude @starkeyisthelastname @secretly-tumb1r @kingkylie444 @stayonmars @maybankswhore @barbiiecams @princessmisery666 @ilovebarrykeoghan

If you would like to be tagged, I gotchu sis.

#drew starkey #ai generated #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #i’m in love #my original post #my original writing #enjoy the audio

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reiderwriter · 1 year

Note

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #I love girl dad Spencer you're going to have to claw girl dad Spencer from my cold dead hands #requested

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r0se1111 · 18 days

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Can't stop thinking about being Ford's assistant and you're there when Stan shows up and the portal mess happens... you just lost your best friend, and sure his brother might be a bit weird but dammit you are not leaving this weird little town until Ford is back! So you and Stan work together and live together trying to get him back... you eventually agree with his whole "Mystery Shack" business and fall into a sort of strange but comfortable domesticity.

You teach him about interdimensional physics and quantum engineering, and he teaches you how to be a better liar and how to mark up prices just enough that people don't complain. The two of you get greasy meals at midnight in grimy 24/7 diners after hours of trying to decipher Ford's journals... you take long car rides listening to the fuzzy radio... you watch shitty TV together and who really minds if his arm finds its way around your shoulder, or if his hand wanders a little too close to your thigh to be considered platonic. It's really not a big deal you tell yourself, if you find his over-the-top 'Mr. Mystery' act more endearing than annoying, and if the wall between your two rooms seems a bit too thick some nights.

And well, it's just natural that you two get married a few years down the line because "Mr. Mystery needs a Mrs. Mystery... just think of all the merchandise we could sell!" and if Stan blushes when he sees you in your thrifted white dress on the way to the local courthouse- well he's never seen me dressed up, that's all- and if the rings you exchange are definitely more than you two can really afford but no less meaningful, you don't blink an eye.

It's not until 30 years later and the twins have come into your life, between Mabel's puppies-and-rainbows attitude towards love, more specifically the love she swears to see between you and Stan, as well as watching the man bond in an almost fatherly way to Dipper (who reminds you so much of Ford it hurts sometimes) that you begin to reevaluate your guys' relationship. The little touches, the playful flirting, the hours spent in each other's company. What once was a marriage of convenience, a relationship which you could swear was just two good friends, now is subject to your critical review as you shakily realize. Shit. I'm in love.

Before you can figure out how to tell your husband of 30 years you're in love with him, ta-da Ford is back! He's shocked to find that his brash brother and quiet assistant are now married, and after watching your interactions for a few days assumes it is a marriage of love. It's not until you ramble to him in a panic that you "have feelings for Stan and probably have since you'd first met him but we only got married for practicality and he probably doesn't see me like that and we just flirt for fun and he's your brother what do I do??"that Ford sighs heavily and in true annoying brother fashion, forces the two of you to confront each other.

I bet you didn't see this coming reader, but ofc Stan returns your feelings with a sort of blinking awe. He's torn between a sort of excited "I've still got it" and a sheepish "It took us 30 years of MARRIAGE to realize we like-like each other Jesus Christ..." But your relationship had already been so couple-y that the two of you adjust easily.

ALSO also... since Stan faked his death and took Ford's identity technically you're married to Ford... he very graciously divorces you (sorry Ford girlies... it's just for this imagine </3) and you and Stan have an Actual Wedding where you two are Officially In Love. Same little courthouse, same too-expensive rings, but different because now you are surrounded by family and friends as you happily enter officially married life. Sigh... idiots in love <3

#guys mullet stan has gotten to me...#(and old stan)#omg who said that #gravity falls #stanley pines #stan pines #stanley pines x reader #stan pines x reader

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the-atlas-sister · 8 months

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𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝙱𝚊𝚋𝚢

(𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝙼𝚒𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚢𝚊 𝚇 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

The last thing Takashi expected when he walked into your shared apartment was the view of his beautiful girlfriend collecting toys and pillows off the ground, placing them in a woven basket within her hands.

"Taka, I'm so sorry," you said quickly, standing up fully and gazing up at your newlywed husband with wide eyes. "Your mom brought your sisters over while you were at work and I said I could handle them on my own, but they went to bed later than I thought they would so I had no time to clean the apartment. "

As you rambled on, continuing your various cleaning of the living room, Takashi couldn't help but grin at you. The sight of you rambling and explaining your day, wearing one of his old shirt and boxers, hair a mess and makeup gone made his heart swell. He had never really understood the idea of falling in love all over again, but as he saw you now, he understood it completetly.

"And now I'm like, crazy hungry, because I didn't have time to make us dinner. So I was thinking we just make some mac and cheese and have our own little dinner together. How does that-" You halted your rambling when you noticed Takashi gazing at you with a wide and fond smile on his face. You furrowed your brows at him, a look of confusion crossing your features, which only appeared to make Takashi's smile grow wider. "Why're you staring at me like that?"

"You've never looked more beautiful," Takashi stated softly, dropping his bag beside the front door and approaching you.

You let out a light scoff at the compliment, but couldn't help the flush of your cheeks. "Our wedding day? Nah, nothing compared to the messy look of your wife in boxers and with bags under her eyes," you said sarcastically, letting your arms drape lazily over his shoulders as he tugged you towards him by the waist.

"What can I say? You always look beautiful," he shrugged, nuzzling his face tiredly into your neck. "You look especially adorable in my clothes." You chuckled and watched as he bent down, picking up a few of the toys.

"You're in a good mood," you giggle at him, watching as he cleans the living room.

"I'm always in a good mood when I'm around you," he said, looking over his shoulder at you with a gentle smile on his face. You tilted your head at him as he gazes at you with that content expression. "I could stare at you all day."

"You spoil me," you scoffed, wacking him lightly with a stuffed animal.

"I would argue, you deserve to be spoiled," Takashi chuckled, standing up and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You rolled your eyes at him but leaned forward, inching closer to his lips.

Just before you met in the middle, a small voice called out.

"Y/n?"

You both turned to see Mana standing in the doorway, eyes obviously heavy with sleep and a small stuffed fox from your childhood in her arms.

"Aren't you supposed to be asleep?" you said softly, kneeling in front of the eight year old.

"I got scared," Mana stated, looking up at you with wide eyes. She looked around you to see her older brother. "Can you come stay with me and Luna?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there-"

"No, Y/n." Mana pouted up at her older brother, quick to cut him off, much to his surprise. "I want Y/n."

Takashi looked at you with an apologetic look. "Mana, Y/n's been taking care of you all night," he said softly, approaching his sister slowly. "I'll put you to bed. Let her rest."

Mana's tired lip jutted out before she began to open her mouth in protest.

"I can do it," you said softly, taking the girl's hand. Takashi frowned slightly as his sister's eyes lit up. "I'll be back when she falls asleep," you said, allowing the pink haired child to drag you back to the guest bedroom where she and her sister were sleeping. "Why can't you sleep?" you asked the younger of the two as you helped her climb into bed with her sister, who was conveniently sleeping soundly.

"I don't like the dark," she stated gently, shifting under the covers. "I think the grim reaper is gonna come and reap my soul."

You blinked in surprise at the girl's fear, mentally reminding yourself to scold Takashi for allowing his sisters to indulge in such media. "Well, I happen to know an excellent song to scare away the reaper and protect your soul," you said, kneeling beside the bed to look at the girl.

"You're lying," she said, narrowing her eyes at you.

"Wanna bet?" you whispered softly. "I'll sing you to sleep and if you wake up with your soul intact you know it works."

Mana hesitated for a moment, narrowing her eyes at you before nodding.

You smiled at her before beginning to sing softly. You index finger began to gently stroke her nose, starting from her forehead to the tip of her nose slowly. A trick you had learned working with other children. As you sang and gently stroked her nose, her eyes began to flutter closed.

When you heard her gentle snores and even breathing, you took that as your sign to stand and creep out of the bedroom.

As you entered the living room, you were met with the soft snores of your husband. You smiled softly at the sight of him sleeping on the couch, limbs sprawled out lazily, and a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his lips. You quietly approached him, kneeling beside his head beside the couch.

"Taka," you whispered, bringing your knuckles up to brush against his cheekbone gently. "Taka."

Takashi stirred slightly, letting out a small groan as his hand came up to hold your own. "Hi," he said tiredly, his eyes opening in a thin eyed squint as he looked at you. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," you said softly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles with a smile. "Taka?"

"Yeah, Y/n/n?" he hummed, forcing his eyes to stay open as he shifted to face you.

"Let's have a baby."

That woke Takashi up real quick. You stumbled back at how quickly he sat up, a massive grin spreading across his face. "What?"

"Let's have a baby," you repeated with a grin of your own. "I wanna have a family with you, Taka."

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," Takashi grinned, pulling you against him. It was an odd angle but he needed to feel you close to him. "Let's do it right now. The girls are asleep?"

Your eyes went wide as you nodded. He quickly scooped you into his arms and began to carry you towards your bedroom, his lips never leaving your neck. "I'm going to fill you up so well, princess."

Border by @saradika

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chanandlersstuff · 1 year

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Bubble and Moose.

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Reader.

Summary: The timeline of how Hayden gradually fell in love with her until he was madly in love, to the point of no returning.

Word count: 8.124

Warnings: Not much actually, age-gap and a slow burn. If you squint, there's a "steamy" part.

Author’s note: Hello again, thanks for the paitence. My life has been a little ecthic lately and I'm sorry this took this long. There's still a second part to this part and a final part. With that being said, hope you like it and have a nice day.

gif credit @hayden-christensen

← Previous part // Next Part ��

May 2020, definitely not a coworker's relationship.

After their birthday gifts were exchanged an invisible barrier seemed to be taken down, they started to talk more frequently, it didn’t matter who called who, the other answered right away.

In the beginning, it started with her brainstorming with him about Anakin’s journey to Darth Vader because according to her, who better to tell me what seemed right than the guy you portrayed him?, but he certainly didn’t mind if he got to listen to her rambling sweet voice asking and answering herself in seconds. In the process, they leant a little in their favourite episodes of The Clone Wars Series and it was funny seeing two grown-ups discussing over Facetime a child series but they had fun and spent days.

At some point, the brainstorming stepped into the background and movies, plays, books, series, and all kinds of things started to be recommended. His favourite moments of those facetimes were when she got passionate about what she would have done in the movies they saw, when she did all that technical talk and her face lit up, started gesticulating more and talked quickly, sometimes too quickly for his fascinated-by-her brain to comprehend. Fascinated in professional terms, not at all in the sentimental.

If someone had been looking at him while he looked at her, they could have witnessed the soft smile on his lips, how slowly he blinked and how attentive he listened to every word that left her mouth as if she was telling him the answer to cure world hunger.

But it was just the two of them talking for hours by a phone screen, while in reality, they were dying to be next to the other on the sofa talking face to face, close enough to touch but without really doing it for fear of being too much.

It was a normal day, which meant that their breakfast routine remained but with the little twist of being in quarantine. Her phone was resting on something and he, from his sofa with the cup she gifted him in hand, had a clear view of her moving around her kitchen making coffee and pancakes. It was intimate, so intimate that it overwhelmed him a little but at the same time made him happy.

“How’s Canada?” She was mixing her ingredients.

It took him a few seconds to answer, too distracted by the flour in her cheek and the need to pass the screen to wipe it himself. “I wouldn’t know,” He took a sip of his tea “I'm not there.”

She looked at him frowning, and the mixing stopped. “What? I thought you were quarantined in your house.” He shook his head. “If I didn’t know you, I would think that you were one of those people acting as if all this mess is a sick joke.”

He laughed at her irritated face. How can I take that face seriously when it’s too damn cute and, on top of it, has flour on it? “I would never, you know that.”

“I know, that’s why I said If I didn’t know you.” Add ‘duh’ to the phrase and she was calling him dumb. “Are you paying attention to me, Starboy?” She asked with her hand on her waist, like a mom when she was mad at something.

Yes, I can only focus on you when you are present and even when you are not, you are the only thing I can think about. “Yes, Little Miss, so drop that tone.” He was about to take a sip of tea but smiled, and giggled when he saw her rolling his eyes at him. “Don’t do that either.” And just to infuriate him, she rolled them more exaggeratedly. It’s too early in the morning to go to that place, Hayden, so don’t do it. Plus you would not be able to come back. Keep it professional. Quickly, he changed the subject. “I'm here in LA.”

The bowl almost fell from her hands and her mouth was opened in surprise. “You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Bri and her mom live here so I’m staying here to be with her and not see her over a screen. It’s tedious.” It’s tedious seeing you over a screen too, but it would be more tedious to not see you at all.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” She nodded while pouring the mix into the pan. “But that’s sweet of you. You are a great dad, Hayden.” It came to his notice that she said his name only in important/serious matters and when she wanted him to know she was telling the truth.

And oh how he loved it when his name rolled out her lips, how he would like to hear it in the most unprofessional, not pg-13, scenarios and tones. Drop it, Hayden.

Mid May 2020, clearing doubts and new beginnings.

He was alone in his house, Briar was with her mom and although he tried to read, watch a series and even designed something for his patio, nothing could take his mind out of her. She plagued his mind more frequently at that point and the last time they Facetimed was a couple of days ago.

Fuck it. He was calling her. Her contact name was ‘Little Miss’ staring back at him, no picture. It rang for a few and when he was about to hang up her face came up.

She was looking at the side, her profile in clear view. Airpods, messy hair falling into her face, eyebrows frowned, mouth a little agape and his eyes got lost in how she licked her lips before talking. What would they taste like? Was she talking to him? Was she talking with someone else? Was he interrupting? Was she with someone else?

“Hey.” Her tone was cheerful. “How are you?”

“Good, good.” He nodded, still with his eyes locked on her lips. “You?” She was looking at something away from her phone, making funny faces. “I called at a bad time? I can call you later.”

This time she looked at him with a tiny smile on her lips. “Not that your calls bother me at any time,” he smiled at her words. “but can I call you in twenty?”

With the smile you are giving me, how can I ever deny you? “Yeah, of course. Take your time.” He nodded with a smile on his lips

“Thank you, I’ll call you right back.” She blew him a kiss and hung up before he could even react.

Was that a kiss or I’m hallucinating? Her lips looked more beautiful than normal or it was just that I hadn’t seen her in person for such a long time? He went to the kitchen to get something to drink and watch the sky to clear his mind because all that he thought about were those lips.

Time seemed to fly while he admired the sky, from the outside, but in reality, he was comparing the feeling of her lips to the sensation of touching clouds. Both foreign to and, yet, Hayden could bet all the money in his bank account that they were soft, heavenly-like, addictive and like nothing he had ever experienced in all his years of living. Not very professional of you, Hayden, thinking about your coworker’s lips.

The sound of his phone ringing brought him back to the real world and with a smile he answered. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Her hair was still messy but with no frown. He tried to not look at her lips to be able to focus on her. “Sorry about earlier.”

An apologetic smile appeared on her lips but he shook his head. “Not at all, you were occupied?”

“Yeah,” she lifted her shoulders in a nonchalant gesture, “the kids arrived like two seconds before you called so they were all over the place.” While she was moving around the place, he caught a few glimpses here and there about her house.

“Kids?” He had one eyebrow raised and his head tilted to the side.

“Yeah.” A smile appeared on her lips. “Not mine but something like that.” Okay, that confused him as hell and she seemed to notice it. “My niece and nephew.”

He nodded remembering. “I’m sorry, I assume you had kids and-

He was quick to apologise but it was her turn to shake her head. Laughing. “It’s okay, Hayden.” Hearing his name coming from her lips made him smile widely. “I talk about them as if they were mine, so the confusion is expected.”

He looked unsure but she smiled at him. “So they stay with you?” She was looking up from the screen from time to time.

“Yeah, my sister and brother-in-law are doctors,” he listened attentively to her words, cheering for her trust in him “So, the kids stay with me to be safe.” and nodded. “Besides I’m the fun cool single aunt with a big house that lets them get a little wild from time to time.” She laughed at her own words.

And he did too, tilting his head back. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down in full display for her to see. When he looked back at her, he caught her just in time licking her lips and her eyes a little lost. What’s she looking at? Lost something? Her cheeks have always been that red or has it happened now? The thoughts started clouding him so he cleared his throat and her eyes travelled back to his. “It’s nice that you are taking care of them.”

“Huh?” He smirked, she giggled and he did too. The laughter of one made the other laugh harder as if they were little kids again. Five minutes passed before it died down and it wasn’t even that funny. “Oh God.” She cleared a tear from the corner of her eyes, while he chuckled. “What did you say?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “That is nice what you are doing.”

She smiled at his words. “They are the closest I have to my own kids, it’s not like I’m adopting orphans or donating piles of money to the health of my country.” In the last part, she gave him a knowing look and before he could say something she kept talking. “It’s the least I can do while their parents are saving people and risking their lives.” He nodded understandingly.

They kept talking for a little while until she had to hang up, but this time there was no kiss blown in his direction. Which made him a little sad, if he was honest. Why would you? You two are nothing except coworkers.

A few weeks passed when they didn’t Facetime as much as before because he didn’t want to interrupt her time with the kids, he knew how handful one kid was, let alone two. Plus he was trying to keep his emotions at bay, they were starting to get wild and he couldn't let that happen. But, they texted frequently, small things here and there to stay in touch, although he preferred a thousand times more seeing her face. A little contradictory, don’t you think Hayden?

He and Briar were cooking together, more like the little girl was sitting on the island while he did all the work when Facetime came in. "How hard can it be to build a kid's playground?" Her desperate voice reached his ears, making him laugh.

"Hello to you too." He teased her.

"Hi." It came all muffled by the groan that left her lips.

His eyes found Briar's, who was giggling, and he did it too. "Now, tell me. What are you building?"

She exhaled loudly while he kept making lunch. "I bought a small kind of playground or something like that." He nodded, a little confused. "Thinking it couldn't be that hard to put together and surprise! IT IS." The pair, father and daughter, laughed again. She lifted her head from the papers in her hands for the first time and looked at him with a frown on her forehead. "Am I interrupting something?"

He shook his head and Briar, with the curious nature of a five-year-old, moved her head to see his phone. "Hello."

"Oh hi!" She looked surprised but with a smile on her face.

"I'm Briar Rose, and you?" The little girl introduced herself and she did too, still with a smile on her lips and a cheerful tone. "Where are you friends with my daddy?" She asked innocently. "Briar Rose!" Hayden said in his dad's tone.

But she laughed, a genuine laugh. Not like the ones he heard her give when she was nervous or uncomfortable, so he relaxed. "From work, we are working together." See?! COWORKERS! She said it herself.

The little girl nodded. "Bri, you helped me choose a present for her a few months ago, remember?" She seemed to think about it and then nodded.

"Oh, you helped him?" Briar nodded eagerly and she smiled. "I loved the flowers, they were so pretty. Thank you." She bowed her head and the little girl blushed a little.

He couldn't see her face directly, because Bri's head was in the way while she got comfortable in front of the phone, making him smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." Just by her tone, he could see her, in his brain, smiling. "I put them on a desk in the centre of my office so everyone could see them." Those little blue eyes opened wide in surprise "Every person that entered my office that day, loved them. You picked right." and a big happy smile appeared on her face.

Hayden saw how closely Briar was looking at her, how she tilted her head to the side from time to time while they talked. "Why are you building a playground?" He looked at them from the corner of his eyes.

"My niece and nephew, Brianna and Daniel, are 6 and staying still is not their thing." He laughed, picturing himself as a little boy and understood what she was saying. "The other day they told me they missed the park."

"I missed it too, but Daddy has a swing on the patio for me," Briar told her and she opened her eyes in surprise, following along. "So I don't miss it that much."

"Well, I had a similar thinking to your Daddy's" What? Come again? "and since I cannot watch them being sad, I bought a small playground for our patio." The little girl nodded.

"In a cool, fun aunt way." He added.

"Exactly." She laughed and the little girl did it too. "Besides, I don't want Daniel jumping out the balcony ‘cause he's bored out of his mind.” He raised his eyebrows. “I swear to you, that kid is wild.”

They laughed, the three of them. "So you bought a playground for them?" Hayden asked in disbelief.

"Kind of?" She sounded unsure and Briar laughed.

He looked at the two of them with a smile on his lips. "Do you even have the tools to set it up?"

They looked at each other and she had that irritated face that he found so cute, so endearing. A big smile appeared on his lips, unwittingly, naturally. "I'm not silly, I bought everything at once."

"Of course you did." He said under his breath found it funny. You and your like for order.

She nodded, putting a wild strand of hair behind her ear. "In my defence," she held her finger up and he raised an eyebrow, ready to hear her excuse "It seemed like a great idea." She sounded so sure, so convinced.

"How?!" He was frowning, his deep tone a little higher than normal.

She got comfortable behind the screen and they did too, their lunch almost ready. "I ordered it the next day they told me that, and with the protocols and everything, it arrived a day after they left, which is today." They nodded. "I thought of building it myself so when they came back, in like a week give or take, they would be surprised."

"That's nice," Briar said.

"I know. Thank you, Briar." She winked at the little girl and she tried to mimic but failed, making the two adults laugh. "But I didn't think it was that hard to build it!”

The little girl giggled, making her father, and her, laugh. “It didn't come with instructions?”

“Yes.” She shook the papers in her hand for him to see. “and I saw a few YouTube tutorials but it's not as easy as it seems.” They laughed again. “So I was this close” she put her pointer finger and thumb a little close to measuring “to a mental breakdown when a lightbulb went on in my head so I said ‘Hey, I have a friend” Friend?! That’s an improvement from coworkers. “who's really into design and architecture and has a beautiful daughter” she winked at Briar, making her giggle “so he would know how to help me’ and that’s how we are here.” She finished with a big smile on her lips and batted her eyelashes as if that was necessary for him to help her.

The little girl looked at him with a smile, fully engrossed with all that was happening. “What do you say, Bri, should we help her?” He looked around, thinking, tapping his chin with his finger, acting as if he was weighing his options, but his beloved daughter tugged his shirt, impatient. “Yeah, daddy, help her.” Hayden looked at her, at that smile on her lips, then at Briar who was mimicking the face she had moments ago. “Okay, we will help her.”

They both celebrated, even high-five through the screen, and he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his lips, the warm feeling that ran through his body and the hope. Hope? Hope of what? Keep it professional Hayden.

After she sent them photos of the instructions, at his request, they had lunch, over Facetime, while he looked at everything from his tablet and they, Briar Rose and she, chatted. Scratch that, Bri did all the talking while she listened closely.

She told her about her classes, about his dad’s farm and all the animals, asked about her niece and nephew, and all kinds of topics they did. All that, while Hayden half listened to them, looked at them interact with a smile on his lips, and half daydreamed, but never once reading at the papers in his tablet, always acting as if he was.

Stop it, Hayden, you are working together. You already went down that road and the only good thing that came out of it’s Briar, so don’t even think about it.

"Isn't that right, daddy?" Briar was looking at him but he frowned, a little lost. “She looks like Bubble.”

“As in The Powerpuff Girls?” But the little girl shook his head.

The brunette was thinking of any recent character his daughter saw that could resemble her. She was wearing a green flannel shirt, too big for her, that matched her skin tone, her hair held up messily, making it seem like she had a pixie cut and lighter, by the light that was hitting on it, and glasses, he noticed she was wearing them more frequently. I like how they look at you. Really? Not very professional of you.

“Bubble like the fairies movies, Daddy. The one we watched the other day, remember?” He was really trying to remember what movie she was talking about because they watched too many.

But she seemed to realise what she was talking about. “Tinkerbell?” Briar nodded eagerly.

“The one with big glasses, wearing green, that's always building something and it's funny." She explained. "Bubble!"

If he remembered correctly it was a male fairy and his name wasn't Bubble. "Oh, the one that was in love with Tinkerbell?" Briar nodded again. "Bobble.”

"Bubble." The little girl corrected, but even though it was wrong, she nodded.

Haydey found it extremely cute, and funny, the resemblance his daughter found in her. A little magical, mythical, figure a little bit clumsy, extremely passionate about his work and art. Briar Rose wasn't that far from reality, they were similar but at the same time, she was like no one he ever knew.

"Bubble." He tasted it on his tongue and it suited her just fine.

She laughed, shaking her head "I'll take it" and arranged her glasses. "But, if I'm Bubble, you, my friend" Again with it. she pointed at him "Are going to be Moose." A smug smile appeared on her lips, his little girl laughed and he did too, amazed at the name.

"Moose?" He asked in disbelief.

She nodded. "You are Canadian and tall as a door. It suits you just fine."

"Fair enough, Bubble." She smiled, proud, with her chin held high. "And me?" Briar asked, not wanting to be left out, looking at both of them.

"Can I?" She mouthed, her eyes connected with his, asking for permission, and he nodded. "What you say about 'Princess'?”

Hayden knew she would love it. "Yes! I love it!" The little girl danced in her seat. They looked at each other, she was frowning but he gave her a smile, to reassure her it was alright and she nodded.

June 2020, planning dates and weird texts.

Saying their relationship was becoming something more was an understatement and that put him in a tough spot. They were more than coworkers, that much was for sure. They were friends? Probably on her part, but Hyaden had feelings he felt he should not have. Feelings? I know nothing about that. That’s very unprofessional. Feelings he would not speak about. Feelings he would deny and bury deep inside him because it was unprofessional. So, the only rational reaction he came up with was to distance himself a little, but not too much. They still talked over text and Facetime, but the last ones were from time to time, weeks in between them, not as often as they used to.

He and Briar were watching some movie, comfortably lying on the sofa, his little girl with her feet on his lap really engrossed in the movie ‘Anastasia’. A recommendation the little girl got as soon as ‘Bubble, what movie should we watch now?’ left her lips. When she found out that her daddy’s friend made movies, she was over the moon, asking for movie recommendations left and right, almost like Hayden did on one of their facetime at the beginning.

This was one of those times when they were texting about God knows what. Sometimes they had separate conversations while texting each other like they were having their own monologues on the same chat.

I've never understood why people in movies used to send boxes with people inside as a gift

He frowned at the text, tilting his head to the side.

Huh?

WHAT’S IN THE BOX?! Type or what?

The three dots appeared and seconds later the response came.

Not that gore

But you know, like when someone jumps out of a cake

Like a surprise

His frown deepened.

What movie are you watching?

Singing in the rain

A smile appeared on his lips.

You have something for musicals, don’t you?

Shut up, Moose

He couldn't contain his laugh and Briar shushed him. “I’m watching the movie, daddy.” The little girl complained.

“Sorry, sweetie.” He smiled at her, not that she paid attention to him, and looked back to his phone.

You definitely have something with them, because I’m watching Anastasia and that’s on you

It’s a great movie, Bri is going to love it

He nodded, watching how invested his little girl was with the movie.

She already does

And you are not even trying to deny the musical part

They are my guilty pleasure, shut up

He chuckled, tilting his head back. Who would have thought?

So……

People jumping out of boxes/cakes are not your thing I gather

Of course not, like that's scary as hell.

He laughed, again.

Don't laugh

A frown emerged on his face, a little surprised.

How did you know I was laughing?

‘Cause I know you

Those words made him smile, proud of such thing.

And people laugh when I tell them about my unusual fear

For some reason, it didn’t seem right to him that someone laughs at her fears, no matter how small or foolish they seemed.

I promise not to laugh

Tell me about it

It was true, he wanted to know about it. About her.

Why would someone do something like that?

Why would someone want the birthday person to have a heart attack for the scare?

Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?

No, it’s common sense

Sure, Bubble, whatever let you sleep at night

Certainly not that idea

Call me when that happens, we will take care of it together

The together part put a smile on his lips. In a friendly context, nothing more.

I will

To put your mind at ease, I promise to never send you those kind of things

Thank u

He could see her with a smile on her lips, that kind, sweet, smile so characteristic of her.

A couple of days later they were Facetiming, he called because he missed her voice but he was trying to mentally keep his distance. It was like a battle was being held inside him. I miss your voice, but saying it out loud may be too much. It may change everything and I don’t want that. I’m not prepared for that.

“Are you okay?” Her voice brought him back to reality.

The brunette nodded “Yeah, why?” with a frown on his forehead.

She shrugged, pursing her lips. “I don’t know, I-” She seemed to think about her next words and he raised his eyebrows, curious about them. “It’s gonna sound lame, but I feel like we don’t talk as much as we did before.”

The sadness Hayden saw in her eyes, even through his screen, made him heartache, but he knew she was right. That wasn’t what I wanted. No, don’t look at me like that. Please. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He was quick to apologise but she shook her head. “I have lots of things in my mind.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. It wasn’t at all my intention.” His eyes could see her manicured hand on her chest and a little frown on her eyebrows. “I meant it as, I know this whole staying-at-home thing is taking a toll on people and their mental health, so if you want to talk about it, or don’t, just know I’m here, Hayden.” The sincerity in her tone took him aback, but it shouldn’t have.

One time, he made a fleeting comment about his mental health after finishing Star Wars in 2005, trying to make his advice more clear for her. Hayden didn’t think that she would remember it, but it seemed he was mistaken. She remembered everything that came out of his mouth. The donations to Canada, his love for architecture, an embarrassing story about his childhood, his birthday, every little detail. So why wouldn’t she remember that little comment?

The sudden trainwreck of emotions inside him almost made him choke. “Thank you, Bubble.” There wasn’t a need for words, his eyes told her everything with how shiny they were and the smile on his lips was so soft, so sweet.

A sincere smile appeared on her lips, but she shrugged again. Taking a little off the emotion and seriousness of the moment before it became too much. “You would do the same for me.”

“Of course.” He said not missing a beat.

“So you don’t need to thank me.” She winked at him and that simple gesture made him feel lighter.

They stayed like that, talking for hours, making up for the lost time, enjoying seeing the other faces and hearing their voices. He moved from his studio to the kitchen, ready to start dinner for one, while she was still seated in her patio with her book on the same page she was when he called.

As she watched him move around his large kitchen, she couldn't help but become entranced by his movements. The allure of his every gesture left her feeling a little lost in the moment. “What are you cooking?”

He scratched the tip of his nose with the back of his hand. “Pizza.” She giggled when she saw that the tip of his nose was full of flour. “What are you laughing at?”

“You look cute with your nose full of flour.” She said in between laughs.

He rolled his eyes but blushed at the compliment. "Well I can't clean it right now so, focus on something else other than my handsome face." He teased her.

"It's going to be a very hard task focusing on something else." She followed his lead. "Your beauty is very distracting." Was she teasing me back? Or was she telling the truth?

"Haha, very funny, Bubble." He kept his face down, looking at what he was doing for her to not notice the blush that started creeping to his cheeks.

"I'm hilarious, I know." She moved her hair back, with a smug face. And he laughed but rolled his eyes. "Back to the pizza."

"Yeah, back to the pizza."

"You pick a few skills from Little Italy, I see." She got closer to the screen to watch what he was doing.

"First of all," he raised a finger full of flour "I was a very good pizza aficionado before the movie-"

"Show-off" She faked a cough.

He rolled his eyes again, trying not to laugh. "But, yes. I picked a few things up." He mixed the sauce.

"I wouldn't know, I have never tasted it." She had a tiny smile on her lips and her eyes had a particular shine. Or maybe it's the light from my house playing tricks with me.

"Maybe when all this pandemic is over, I can cook for you." He said looking at her, what he was doing was long forgotten, his attention solemnly on her.

The smile on her lips was breathtaking mixed with the warm light of the sun on her patio made the image burn in his brain. "I will like that very much."

His heart was beating furiously inside his chest. "It's a date then? I'm having a heart attack, surely. There's no other explanation.

She nodded, with a tiny blush on her cheeks. "It's a date." A bright smile, teeth and all.

Well, so much for keeping it professional Hayden.

July 2020, seeing you shine.

The night was darker than normal and more humid than usual in July. Not a sound could be heard in his house, besides the one caused by the weather. The hot summer weather was starting to bother him a little so the storm that was rising outside made him happy.

Miss Bubble

You up?

Confused as hell, he looked at the hour. What was she doing up at three in the morning? Was she alright? Something happened to her? Was she in danger? All the possible bad scenarios were occurring in his head, so he called her.

Pick up, Bubble, pick up. Not long passed before she answered him.

“Are you alright?” Those were the first words that left his mouth when her face came into view.

She nodded “Yeah, you?” confused.

The brunette frowned. “Yeah. Something happened?”

“No. Why?”

“Cause you texted me at three in the morning and I thought that something had happened to you, so I got scared.” He explained.

She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose. “Sorry about that, I truly didn’t mean to.” An apologetic smile appeared on her lips. “I appreciate you worrying about me, it’s really sweet.”

“Are you okay?” His heart was still beating furiously.

“A little guilty but 100% fine.” She gave him a tight smile. Hearing she was right relaxed him, all the muscles in his body loosened. “Did I wake you up?”

“Nono, I was already up.” He was sitting comfortably on the couch, his feet on the little table there and resting his phone on the thigh, cigarette in the other hand. “Why are you in the dark, though?” He squinted his eyes to look at her better.

The sound of her sitting comfortably could be heard. “I love thunderstorms and being in the dark makes them more beautiful.” You are beautiful, even in the dark. “What about you?”

He smiled at her “I'm enjoying the peaceful silence and the sound of the rain.” and took a drag of his cigarette.

“I can call you back some other time, at a decent hour.” She quickly said. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

She could see him shaking his head, thanks to the warm light that was illuminating his face. “No, no. It's okay.” He reassured her with a smile. “We can enjoy this together.” Again with the ‘together’. “you, your thunderstorm and me, my silence.”

A massive thunder illuminated the sky and he saw the big smile on those lips. “I would love that.” She was smiling because of me or because of the thunder?

“Great.” He smiled, getting comfortable.

Who knows how long it passed where his gaze took turns looking at her and then at the water falling against his big window. Her doe eyes were looking in the distance, her lips curving in a smile every time a thunder made everything tremble. The light it provided made her, in his eyes, illuminated, and shine. A few times their eyes connected and a tiny smile appeared on her lips.

Unknowing to him, she looked at him every time she felt his eyes move from the screen. Fascinated by how the cigarette smoke danced around him with the warm light that was reflecting on his face and making his hair look golden-like and his eyes had a particular shine. The artistic part of her wanted to be there, on her knees in front of him, in the angle she was from her phone, with her precious video camera in hand recording every second of him smoking that damn cigarette.

It dangled over his large fingers, but it never quite felt, on the way to his lips. Oh, those lips. They wrapped around the filter part and he hollowed his cheeks, making his bone structure more prominent. How would it feel to trace his face with the tip of my fingers? Maybe, just maybe, to finish off killing her, he exhaled the smoke through his nose tilting his head back. How can he make something so deadly as smoking, so hot, so alluring? Her eyes traced his neck, the veins there. Where is his weak spot? Can I find it with my lips?

Hayden felt her stare on him, how she was tilting her head from side to side the whole time he took a drag, slowly, just to tease her. When he moved his head, just a little bit to see her, he felt as if his heart stopped beating normally and started a fucking race. Her cheeks were flushed, even in the dark he could see it. Her lower lip was caged by her teeth and the need to free it made his hands itch. When he finally reached her eyes, oh those eyes, pupils dark and intense, lost in him, lost in desire.

If her eyes were dark, the blue in his was long gone too but that didn’t stop him from looking her up and down. The grip she had on the blanket around her was so tight that her knuckles were losing colour. The fine strip of her pyjama top was falling from her shoulder, leaving him free access for his eyes to trace the journey from her clavicle, to her neck to the jaw. He gulped at such a display of skin, feeling like a horny thirteen-year-old, Will I ever have the privilege to feel her skin with my lips?, like he travelled back in time and was one of those men that get horny by a glimpse of an ankle.

Their eyes finally met and it was like someone left hell and heaven gates opened. They were on Facetime but the tension, the burning sensation, around them was real. They both felt it. But at the same time, they were sure that giving in would be like touching the sky. It would be a sin I would be glad to commit.

Hayden said her name in a low and husky tone. His tone is going to be the death of me.

"Hayden," she replied, trying to keep her own voice steady, but failing miserably. Whisper my name in my ear with your soft tone. Shout it at the top of your lungs too.

That simple gesture of saying the other’s name made the tension grow stronger. Their hearts were racing, they were heavily breathing.

He leant closer, and brought her closer, more like his phone screen, to say something. What are you going to say, Hayden? That you want to cross the line so far with her so damn much it would look like a fucking dot if you look back? That you know it’s unprofessional the feelings you have for her? That those eleven years between you two are going to be the death of you?

She swallowed hard, ready for whatever he was going to say. Are you ready to admit that you have been dying to kiss him, tangling your fingers in his hair, since the first day you saw him? Are you going to tell him that only by looking at you he makes you weak on the knees and that you have to mentally restrain yourself to not giggle and twirl your hair?

There was only one thing that was running around in their minds. Not physical, because there were plenty of those in their heads. God, I wish you were here with me, I wish I had you right here in front of me so I could kiss you. Show you all the things I feel for you but that I’m too cowardly to tell.

A very loud thunder broke the bubble they were wrapped in and brought them back from the tunnel they were getting themselves into. He cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling of his house, taking a deep breath, while she arranged her hair and sat straight. “Look at the time.” What, Hayden? Are you an idiot?

“Yeah, it’s-” She cleared her throat too because her voice sounded breathless “It’s getting late.”

The brunette nodded, agreeing with her. “Yeah, yeah.” Truth be told, it was like five-thirty in the morning.

The two fools bid goodbye, saying that they would be heading to bed and that they would call some other time. But instead, they stayed sitting in their respective houses. Going over and over again what happened. How they almost gave in in the heat of the moment.

September 2020, you never cease to amaze me.

If the sweet moments were too much before, the sexual tension of that July night was something that went out of their hands.

Since that call, Hayden’s brain has been playing tricks with him almost every night. Dreaming all sorts of things with her, it was divided between the nastiest of them and the most domestic too. Railing her watching the Eiffel Tower, leaving love bites all over the visible, just for him, parts of her body and then taking a walk on the French streets hand in hand, or having coffee in the morning and cleaning the foam off the tip of her nose and then kissing it.

Dreaming of her never failed to leave him wishing for more, praying for more. After a very vivid, specific, hot dream where he wasn’t going to be able to look her in the eyes for a good couple of days, he had to put space between them. So the facetimes were a big no because the dream kept repeating in the back of his mind, every day, and looking her in the eye would make a mess of him.

But now, after nearly two months, he was more than happy to look at her beautiful face. Eager even. Why? Curiosity got the best of him and he had googled her, just to see her work and ended up watching a movie of hers. To say he was fascinated, and amazed was understandable. Hayden always knew she was incredible, but the way he ended up at the edge of his seat, wanting more of her art, was something that didn’t happen every time he watched a movie.

She answered right away, her glasses on the bright of her nose. “Hi.”

“You…you…” she looked at him, raising an eyebrow, “you are a work of art.” Coming up strong I see. The truth in his voice, in his eyes, came from his heart.

Slowly, a smile appeared on her lips “What?” and a little laugh escaped them.

“I just watched one of your movies and…and…” she looked like a deer caught in headlights “and it’s amazing.” A smile adorned his lips. “You are amazing.”

She dropped what she was doing and looked directly at him. “You really think that?”

“Of course.” Sincerity laced in his tone. “I think that since I met you, sorry if I never told you, Bubble.” The way she looked down, hiding her cute smile, made his hands itch to lift her chin to be able to see it in person.

“A little reminder from time to time, wouldn’t harm you know.” She joked, making him laugh.

“Sure, I’ll remind it to you.” He winked. “But not all the time, we wouldn’t want you to be a show-off.” It was her turn to laugh about it. Her sweet laugh was music to his ears.

Hayden turned into a fan of hers, bombarding her with questions left and right about what inspired her, why things were how they were in the movie and every little detail about it. And she happily answered it, giving him her complete attention.

The title ‘Little Miss Director’ was too small for her, actually, it didn’t fit her at all. In his eyes, and surely in the eyes of everyone who met her, she was a great director, a splendid artist worthy of awards. It didn’t matter that she was young. The brunette was eager to see her in her element, in the field guiding the team so that the vision she had for the script, which she was putting sweat and tears into making, would come true.

“Ewan’s words did not make you justice, nor to your work.”

She frowned. “What did he say?”

“Basically, that you were amazing.” She giggled, nervously, blush creeping to her cheeks. “But nothing more, I tried to pry details away but he didn’t slip, not even once.” He joked and a true laugh escaped her lips. A proud smile plastered on his face by the fact of being able to make her laugh.

She nodded. “At this point, I think he’s as proud of me as my dad.” They laughed.

“He is!” The brunette reassured her. “Crazy proud.”

“I adored him.” She confessed and he nodded, feeling the same for the Scottish.

You adore me too? “And he always said that you are a well-deserved award winner.”

She opened her eyes big, “Yes, I have a few.” and mumbled.

At that point, he was comfortably seated on his sofa, hand supporting his head and his attention fully on her. “I know.” She raised her eyebrows, surprised. “I may or may not have googled you.” He admitted hiding his face, a little ashamed. Perfect, now she would think I'm some creep stalking her. But her sweet laugh reached his ears.

“Please tell me how unflattering the pictures are?” She asked, still laughing. “I’ve never googled myself.”

He shook his head. “There’s no pictures of you.” She frowned. “Which I found odd for someone who has three Spirit Awards under her belt, one feature film nominated in Cannes and one Caméra d’Or.” He had a proud smile on his lips and she blushed but with a smile so big it closed her eyes. “Absolutely amazing.” He clapped at her and she blushed harder. “I’m crazy proud of you too.” While I’m at it, why don’t I tell her that I have a 13-year-old boy crush on her? Make myself 100% embarrassed.

Maybe it was the lighting in her house, maybe it was his imagination, but Hayden could swear she had tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Hayden.” The brunette nodded.

They talked a little more about the awards and the technical aspects of the movies she made. “One thing I still don’t understand is” she raised an eyebrow, curiously “How a face like yours isn’t plastered all over the place?”

“Is that a compliment?” Her head tilted to the side.

“Of course it is,” he said, nodding. “You are absolutely beautiful.” Subtlety is not my thing, clearly.

It was like he was trying to see how many times he could make her blush in a single conversation. Because those words made her red like a tomato, to the point she could feel how warm her cheeks were. “Thank you.” And he bowed his head again, happy to compliment her. “The photo thing is because I try to blend in as much as possible,” he frowned, “which is easy, when what all the people are most interested in is taking photos of the young models and big actresses there.”

He tried to rack his brain thinking of what young models or actresses had that she hadn't. And the answer was nothing. She was beautiful, like a breath of fresh air, fashionable and had a smile that could light up any room. But behind everything physical, she was funny, artistic and intelligent like no other. Hayden was pretty sure his words came up short if he tried to describe her.

“Besides,” her voice brought him back, “I wanted to be taken seriously at that time for future works, so if there wasn’t a picture of me it was better.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to be judged by my age, which people tend to do.” She pursed her lips. “No one would hire me to do a movie if they found out I was that young when I started. Not that the no pictures stopped them, because when they saw me in person a few backed down from the offer, but I fought tooth and nail for my art, my work.”

The scene in the first reading table came to his mind. “You still do.” She nodded. “That’s why you ran after standing your ground in the incident with the writer that time?”

She nodded. “He was rude as hell, not the first time that a male writer was rude to me, but the condescending way he said it boiled my blood.” She remembered, shaking her head. “I had to get away from that room before I lost my mind.” That was why he hadn’t found her when he looked for her. “But, back on topic, I like having a low profile”

He nodded, “Yeah that’s a feeling I can resemble.” She raised her eyebrows for a few seconds. “I like my private life.”

“I totally agree, like I will not make my life a circus for all the media to pick apart.” They were both nodding eagerly, happy to be thinking the same thing. “I mean, I'll pose if it's strictly necessary, otherwise I'll avoid it like the plague.” She said laughing.

He tilted his head to the side, frowning. “What you mean?”

She shrugged. “All the flashes and screams, being the centre of attention, the madness, I don't know, it gives me anxiety.” He knew what she was talking about. “And I like being behind the camera, I’m much more comfortable there.”

It was a little criminal to him that something as beautiful as she liked to be hidden from the lenses, away from the world to witness, but a tiny part of him, the selfish part, loved being one of the few who really knew her, or was starting to do.

At that point, the list of things Hayden noticed about her turned into a notepad. The things he kept learning about her day after day, text after text, facetime after Facetime, meant a lot to him. The trust she had in him made him feel special.

Next Part →

TAGLIST: @frommywindow27 // @lillianacristina // @shyartisanvoidwagon // @watersquirtpewpewboomm // @yomommaandyogranny // @shqwqrma // @florence-vikander // @bryjohn98 // @its-sappho-biotch // @mysardencut // @fan-goddess // @weallhaveadestiny // @hueanhdang // @ittybitty-rt // @fromasgardandback // @mmb-09 // @elisamoons // @harryisacuties // @little-diable // @angie2274

#Hayden Christensen #Hayden Christensen x reader #Hayden Christensen x you #Hayden Christensen x y/n #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #director!reader

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for-those-who-wait · 21 days

Note

it hurts me to ask this, but how would blorbo!Hunter respond to the death of flapjack…

Blorbo Hunter has cat brain where he doesn't really have a complex thought process (there's another ask about this in my inbox that I'll answer once I doodle some more, I'll try to go more in-depth about it then) so I think it would be that situation where one of your pets passes and the other is confused about why their buddy isn't around anymore and why their owner is suddenly very sad

I would really like to make a comic about it but it would take a while and my brain is mush so, taking crack seriously, I think it would happen like this (very limited memory of what happens in the beginning of For the Future):

Blorbo Hunter is probably in somebody's pocket or bag for the whole altercation with Belos in Thanks to Them, so he didn't actually witness anything. Everyone is very torn up about it after they go through the portal, the blorbo is a little confused about why Hunter looks sad and weird, but he's just kind of chilling. Hunter can't really stand to look at the blorbo for a bit (something about anxiety about loss and wanting to distance himself emotionally as a coping mechanism) so he passes him off to Luz and the gang to watch over while he broods in the corner at the Owl House like normal. Blorbo Hunter is just hanging out, he's kind of wondering what's up since I think Flapjack would be as constant a presence for blorbo Hunter as he is for regular Hunter and he's similarly not used to not having that presence nearby. They are friends, they love each other, and he wants to know where his friend is!

I think blorbo Hunter has a little bit of a signal thing going where he'll make little gestures about things he wants (he just learned that Flapjack is more likely to interact with him if he opens his arms like he wants a hug, and he kept doing it). So the gang is familiar by now that when he splays his little arms out, he's referencing Flapjack. And he doesn't actually do that until they're all calming down, slowly trying to fall asleep at the Owl House, and he finally wriggles away to find Hunter (because he follows him absolutely freaking everywhere and he might as well have a natural homing beacon for that boy)

Hunter's not really trying to sleep, he's been Irreparably Traumatized, and blorbo Hunter climbs onto him and splays his arms out like "Where's Flapjack?" since Hunter usually knows where he is, and blorbo Hunter has associated Hunter with Flapjack appearing. Hunter isn't even sure if he should respond to that, because he knows by now that the blorbo just can't really understand the concept of loss like that. Hunter's probably tearing up a bit by now because of all the stress and emotions he's shoving down, and now he's got this innocent little thing looking up at him for guidance that he feels he's incapable of providing because Flapjack, the one thing the blorbo is asking for, is gone in a way that Hunter can't explain and the blorbo can't understand.

Blorbo Hunter, ever the cat, at least recognizes that Hunter's upset. The blorbo climbs up onto his chest, probably lays right up against his chin, and just sits there for the sake of closeness and an attempt at comfort. And for his part, I think Hunter would just grieve a lot about it because Flapjack was probably there to help him process even accepting blorbo Hunter in the first place (I think Flapjack would immediately love the blorbo and would have to spend a long time convincing Hunter to give him a chance as well), and now he's left with the guilt of having initially disliked the blorbo and also killing his friend. Like "I killed Flapjack with the hand that I am currently using to try and comfort this weird clone-cat-creature he was friends with, I'm so incredibly messed up and terrible for this."

This child can fit so much trauma and self-hatred in him holy crap

ANYWAY sorry for the ramble, hopefully that answers the question, thank you for asking it :))

#the owl house #hunter toh #blorbo hunter #flapjack toh #toh hunter #toh fanart #digital art #fanart #my art #doodle #ask #flapjack #animal death

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luvkypickle · 2 months

Text

the start ~ e.m. x reader

summary: When reader finds Eddie's lost notebook on the ground, who knew it would lead to a wonderful night? (lmk if you want a part 2??)

The bell just rang signaling the end of the school day. Eddie is standing with his friends at the front of the school. He stares at you while walking to your car. He hopes you catch his eye so he can wave at you.

"Eddie... Eddie!!"

"What? What?" Eddie snaps out of his haze and is now focused on Gareth and Jeff.

"You're staring like hardcore man, why don't you just go up and talk to her?" Gareth tells Eddie.

"Nah I don't wanna bother her. Maybe I'll say something tomorrow," Eddie replies looking down.

Jeff straightens up and says, "I just had the best idea! Why not invite her to our next concert?"

"She probably doesn't want to go..." Eddie looks down again.

"All right man, you do what you want but just stop staring at her and get the courage to talk to her for once!" Gareth says as him and Jeff walk away to go home. "We gotta go but we'll see you later."

Eddie waves as he starts walking to his van. As he's about to open the door he feels a tap on his shoulder. He flinches slightly as he turns around and his eyes land on you.

"Hi, I'm sorry if I scared you!" you say with a smile. "I saw this in the hallway when I was walking out so I figured I would pick it up to check to see whose it was and I didn't see a name but I saw the little drawings for Corroded Coffin and I remembered that I heard you were talking about that the other day and then I realized it was over by your locker so I figured it was yours!"

Eddie just looks at you dumbfounded as you just stand there speaking.

"Sorry for my rambling, that happens a lot, please just ignore it, but is it yours?" you quickly say.

You reach into your bag and pull out the notebook, holding it out as you were slightly blushing.

You make eye contact with him as he reaches out to grab the notebook.

"Yeah it's mine, thank you so much for grabbing it!" Eddie replies with a smile and your fingers brush together from grabbing the notebook.

You stand there for a minute before turning around. Before you get too far away then turn back around to face him.

"Corroded Coffin is your band right?" you ask with a tilted head.

"Oh.. yeah," Eddie says looking down, scratching the back of his head. "It's nothing big really, just a silly little band. We barely perform for anyone anyway."

"You guys perform in front of people? That's really cool! I'd love to come and see one of your shows?"

Eddie once again has a dumbfounded look on his face. You wanna come to one of his shows? He's ecstatic but doesn't want to show it too bad on the outside. He starts thinking of how you'd look watching him perform at the Hideout. Would he mess up or give the best performance of his life?

"I'd love if you came to one of my shows" Eddie finally snaps out of his thoughts and looks at you with his brown doe eyes. "We're actually performing tomorrow night at this place called the Hideout. It's really cool in there and since it's a Thursday night there won't be too many people there but I'd love to see your face in the audience."

You smile at him and nod, "that sounds perfect! Just give me a time and address and I'll be sure to get there!"

"Uhh here!" He says as he rips a piece of paper out of his notebook and grabs a pen from inside his van. He quickly scribbles the time, address, and a phone number on the paper.

"I, um, actually have band practice today so I have to get going but if you have any questions just give me a call later and I'll be sure to answer." he says as he hands over the piece of paper.

"Okay nice! Thank you Eddie, I'll see you later!" You say as you grab the paper and start walking to car. You look back and wave as Eddie waves back with a smile.

------------------------------------------------------------

"Boys you'll never guess what happened," Eddie shouts as he walks into band practice.

"What, did you gawk at her more after we left and she gave you a smile?" Jeff asks with a smirk.

"Actually, I invited her to out show tomorrow night!"

"Woah no way man, nice job," Gareth says giving him a slap on the back. "What happened when we left?"

Eddie relays everything that happened to the boys as he sits there blushing and beaming. "And our hands brushed together AND she smiled at me... multiple times!"

"Well you better not mess up at all tomorrow" Jeff says as they all start to set up their instruments.

"I won't, I won't," Eddie stared into space while tuning his guitar.

------------------------------------------------------------

The next day, once he gets home from school, he hears the phone ring.

"Hello?" Eddie asks as he picks up the phone.

"Hi Eddie! I'm so sorry to bother you right now, I'm not sure if you're getting ready but is there a dress code for your show?"

He feels himself blushing by just hearing your voice. He forgot he gave you his number.

"Oh hey! Yeah you're all fine! Um you can wear whatever you want, most people that come to our shows are just there for the bar but I think you'll look pretty in whatever you wear."

"Alright thank you! I'm so excited to see you perform, see you in a few hours!" You say trying to hide the smile that crept on your face.

"See you later, "Eddie says with a smile.

------------------------------------------------------------

"So Eddie are you ready?" Jeff asked him as they set up their instruments on stage.

"Yeah I'm totally not freaking out right now," Eddie says, peaking through the curtain to spot your face.

It's finally time for their set to start, Eddie introduces the band and they start performing.

Once the set was over he finally spotted you. You waved at him as he started walking over.

"You did so good! Way better than I was expecting, you said it was just a silly band," You say with a smile as Eddie finally approached you.

"Thank you," Eddie smiled, scratching the back of his head. "I'm really glad you enjoyed."

"Do you normally do anything after your shows?" you asked.

"Well sometimes we just stay here and chat but we always have to pack up our equipment first." He replied.

"Oh okay," you say looking down.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh I was thinking maybe we could go get milkshakes or something? It's okay if not, I know it's kind of late and you're probably tired."

Eddie is starstruck with your question, "No yeah I'd love to but um..." He trails off looking at the boys who are already smirking and shooting him thumbs up as they overheard your whole conservation. "Okay yeah, did you wanna head out now?"

"Yeah! I rode my bike here though so I can just meet you at the diner?"

"No nonsense! We can just throw your bike in the back of my van and after I can take you home too." Eddie offered.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna keep you out any later than you have to be," you say with a frown.

"Yup everything's all good," He says smiling and leading you out the door. "Just point to your bike and we'll bring it to the van!"

You both find your bike and Eddie puts it in the back of his van. He then runs over to the passenger side and opens the door for you with a bow. You giggle and hop in as he shuts the door and runs to the driver side.

It's a ride of silence. But a comfortable silence.

Once you sit down in a booth, you take a quick look at the menu and decide you want to get a chocolate milkshake and mozzarella sticks.

"Do you wanna split some mozzarella sticks?" you ask, looking up from the menu.

"Yeah sure, I love mozzarella sticks!" Eddie replies with a smile. "What kind of shake are you thinking of getting? I was thinking chocolate."

"I was thinking the same thing actually!" You almost shout.

The waitress comes up asking what you want and Eddie orders for the both of you. After some small talk, your food and shakes come. It was a wonderful night of talking and laughing with Eddie. Unfortunately it had to come to an end when you realized how late it was getting.

After telling Eddie your address, he starts to take you home.

"I had a really good time tonight," you say as he helps you get your bike out the trunk.

"Me too. We should do something like this again?" He says, shyly looking down.

"I would love that! Just shoot me a call whenever! Bye Eddie!"

Before walking away, you placed a kiss on Eddie's cheek. He stands with his hand placed on his cheek staring at you walking towards your door.

"I'll call you tomorrow!" He shouts before getting in his van after you stepped into your house.

------------------------------------------------------------

note: should I make a part 2?

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson

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anxious-lee · 4 months

Text

Nothing To Prove || Gravity Falls Tickle Fic ||

A/N: there's a lot of buildup at the start but THIS IS A TICKLE FIC I SWEAR! more than anything though, I'm writing this for the sake of developing characters. This is familial love so if I see any i*cest, I am blocking you on sight

Summary: When Ford comes to realize how much Dipper looks up to him, he seeks out a way to show his young nephew that there's no need to be intimidated by him.

Word count: 2,454

----

Dipper

Life just got a whole galaxy bigger.

Dipper thought he knew what his life would become when he found that old dusty book in the forest; he'd pursue adventure, get into danger, fight monsters.

But meeting his number one hero? And then finding out that he's related?

Not a chance.

It'd been a year since Dipper and his sister left Gravity Falls. They had lots of time that school year to ruminate on everything they had been through together. In the span of three months, their whole universe had turned inside out.

They had another uncle. Someone else to look out for and protect them. Mabel, as she is with all news of this sort, was over the moon. Dipper, however, wasn't as content. It wasn't that he didn't like Great Uncle Ford. Far from it. He loved him unconditionally. He worshipped the ground he walked on. He would fight a thousand beasts to earn his mentor's pride. And that was the problem.

Dipper had spent so long dreaming of the author as this distant hero; an intellectual mastermind that surpassed all around him. He dreamt of meeting him, yes. Bombarding him with questions, absolutely. But now the man was part of his family. The same family that he cracked stupid fart jokes and goofed around with.

Dipper wasn't prepared to have someone so important to him in his life on a permanent basis. He couldn't help but feel a little small around Ford, like every move he made was a chance to embarrass himself in front of his idol.

After his first summer in Gravity Falls ended, Dipper hoped that his overwhelming sense of awe would pass with the time, and he would grow more comfortable around this new addition to the family. But the moment he stepped off of that bus and saw his great-uncle there to greet him, he knew it wouldn't be quite that easy.

He volunteered for as many of Ford's experiments as he could. He offered as much help as he could provide. When faced with an obstacle, Dipper made sure to prove to his uncle that he was smart and tough beyond his years. This, as one might expect, is a difficult and exhausting image to maintain. Being "the perfect, mature man of science" was hard when you were a young, hormonal teenage boy. But that wasn't going to stop Dipper.

When Ford had asked if him if he wanted to help engineer a stronger form of glass that could withstand abnormally high temperatures, he nearly fell over with excitement. He was going to be the best lab assistant Ford could ask for.

It seemed, however, that he couldn't get that right after all, because when bringing over the regular glass jar for experimentation, it slipped through his fingers and shattered.

Dipper was mortified. Not only had he broken the constant variable in their experiment, but possibly also the trust Ford placed in him to be a responsible assistant. How could he have been so careless? Was their experiment ruined now? Did Ford think he wasn't taking this seriously?

"Oh my gosh! Oh my- I- I'm so sorry, Great Uncle Ford! I don't know what happened. I thought I had it" Dipper rambled, throat tightening.

"Aw shoot," Ford cursed under his breath, "It's okay, Dipper, it happens. Here, why don't you go fetch me a new jar from the back shelves while I sweep up this mess?"

"Act- Actually you know what, I think you might actually have an easier time doing this if I wasn't here. I- I don't want to get in your way. " Dipper shuffled back towards the door.

"But I thought you wanted to-" Ford turned to his nephew only to find that he was already gone.

---

Ford

It was unusual, and not the kind that Ford enjoyed. The puzzling kind of unusual.

The conclusion did not follow the variables. Variable one: Ford was conducting an experiment. Variable two: Ford asked Dipper for assistance. Variable three: Dipper was eager to help. Conclusion: Dipper had panicked and ran off. It just wasn't right. Something was off balance.

Now, in a technical situation, Ford could figure out the root cause himself. He had well over thirty years of practice doing so. But this was a human being. Moreso, this was his great nephew, and he wasn't so skilled in the people area. He needed to outsource this predicament with someone who knew Dipper longer than he had. Someone he could trust to tell him what he was doing wrong.

That someone in particular was tucking away a large medieval flail in the cupboards of the sitting room when Ford found him. What it was for, Ford thought it better not to ask.

"Stanley, can I talk to you about something?" He said.

"I didn't know it was a bear, honest!" Stan yelled.

"What?"

"Uhh, nothing. What's on your mind?"

"I have the strangest feeling that Dipper is more anxious than normal. He ran out of my lab this morning looking like he'd seen a ghost, which I have ruled out as a possibility because the air did not smell at all of sulfur. Anyway, the point is, I think something's wrong with him. You've known him far longer than I have. I thought maybe you would have better insight into these things" Ford explained.

Stan stood silently for a moment.

"Stan?"

"Oh sorry I was just enjoying the moment you finally came to me for advice"

"Stanley."

His brother quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't gotta be a genius to figure this one out, Poindexter. The kid's afraid of looking bad in front of ya."

Ford was stunned into silence. This was a new feeling. An new, terribly odd feeling.

"What?"

"Come on, you've got to have noticed by now. He looks to you like you're a god. He practically worships the ground you walk on. You were like his hero before you'd even met him. You think he's not gonna feel some pressure to live up to your standard? He just wants you to be proud of him."

"I love him! He's my brother's grandson! And of course I'm proud of him. He's very remarkable for his age" Ford said.

"Then why don't you tell him that once in a while."

Ford lost himself in thought.

"Well, time to get back to restocking my weapons. Good luck with your family tension. I'll call you for dinner," Stan sauntered away, seemingly unbothered by the problem, "Prepping for battle, do do do..."

Once again, Ford was left alone to think.

---

This wasn't the first time that Ford had heard someone tell him that he had a standoff-ish impression on people, but he never thought it would impact his kin. Someone he treasured so greatly. Now that he knew how Dipper was feeling, he couldn't waltz around and act like he didn't know. Something had to be done. The only issue was, he didn't know what.

Ford waited a couple days before asking Dipper to rejoin his experiments, knowing that the boy probably wouldn't be willing to assist him just yet after what happened. To his relief, Dipper agreed.

It was still painful to know that his nephew was intimidated by him, but it felt nice just to have him by his side again being his seemingly normal self.

The day went without a hitch this time. In fact, things went quicker than expected and they finished early. It was as they were readying themselves to leave when Ford spoke.

"Thank you for your help today, Dipper. I've been having trouble operating all of this machinery by myself lately. Must have thrown out my back or something."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Dipper replied, "Muscles get tighter with age, so I'm sure it's normal."

Ford turned to look down at his nephew. "Are you calling me old?"

The boy paled. "Wh- I- Uh- I- I wasn't-"

"I'm afraid I have no choice but to punish you for your disrespect" the scientist said darkly.

Before Dipper could have time to overthink that threat, Ford pulled the boy into his arms, sat himself on the ground and started tickling his belly.

The first few seconds were filled with frantic babbling; jumbled syllables trying to make themselves into a coherent sentence. Ford wasn't hearing a "stop", so he didn't.

Dipper giggled hysterically. His face had instantly screwed itself up tight and was looking for a way to bury itself into some hiding place. "GREATUNCLEFORHOHORD! WHAT ARE YOU DOHOHOHOING?!"

"Tickling you, of course! I thought that was obvious," Ford answered with cheer, all pretend-seriousness gone. He chuckled. "I guess you inherited more from me than I thought."

Dipper couldn't seem to figure out what to do with his hands, until he settled on hiding his face with them.

"Aw, don't be shy, son. I'm not the author today. Today, I'm just your uncle," Ford then added with a growl, "Your uncle: the tickle monster!"

The boy's arms fell from his face, settling down on his lap like little t-rex arms. He seemed to have surrendered to the silliness of it and didn't bother to fight.

Wonderful, Ford thought, that means he trusts me!

As Ford moved from belly to sides to ribs, Dipper's laughter went up and down like a rollercoaster, his child-like smile never leaving his face. "IHIHIHI'M SORRYHIHIHI!"

"Nuh uh, kid. "Sorry"'s not gonna cut it," Ford said playfully. He was surprised how good he was at this. He didn't have much experience with playing with children, and he had thought his decades of interdimensional travel would've hardened him to such silliness. Thank the gods that it hadn't.

As Ford's hand started to travel up to the boy's underarm, the boy shrieked and suddenly found the will to fight.

"EHEHEHEK! NONONONONO!"

Ford couldn't help himself laughing at his adorable little ward. "Ticklish there, huh?"

"YEHEHES" Dipper cried.

"Okay, okay, I'll make you a deal. You take back what you said about me being old, and I'll stop tickling you."

Ford had expected the kid to be worn out by now. He thought it was only fair to offer him an out. To his surprise, he didn't take it.

Dipper seemed to think it over for a second, then shook his head with an extra giggle, one that was not from the tickling.

This kid is going to be the death of me, Ford thought, not a hint of regret in his mind.

"Okay, if you say so," the man said playfully, and dug all six fingers into the boy's hollows.

A shriek, and then more rambling, and then loud laughter.

Dipper, despite being tickled within an inch of his life, looked happier than Ford had ever seen him. If this was a dream, Ford did not want to wake up.

"I've got some questions for you, Dipper. Smile for yes and laugh for no, ya got it?"

All he could do was laugh.

"Okay, are you smart?"

Dipper sunk his chin in to his chest.

"Dipper, this won't work if you say yes and no" Ford remarked with fake incredulousness, "Okay, hmmmm... are you brave?"

The teen began to snicker.

"I don't think you understand the rules of this game," Ford said, which only made Dipper laugh harder.

"Alright, alright, last one. Are you ticklish?"

Dipper let out a snort at that infernal question.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ford smiled smugly.

After several more minutes of goofing around, Dipper finally had enough.

"OKAYHYHYHY OKAYHYHY! I TAKE IT BAHAHACK!"

"Good lad." And with that, Ford released his victim.

Dipper wrapped his arms around himself and giggled till there were no more laughs left in him.

"You okay, son? I didn't go too crazy, did I?"

"No no, I'm fihihine. Mabel's put me through much worhorse."

"I can believe that. She got that from your uncle Stanley, you know."

After having regained his breath, Dipper got up from his uncle's lap. "So... are you really not mad about the jar I broke the other day?"

"Oh, Dipper, of course I'm not. You should see the things I've broken down here. You'd be shocked."

"But when you make a mistake, it's different." Dipper recoiled. Apparently, he didn't mean to let that slip.

"What do you mean?"

Dipper's timidness was returning, and Ford almost regretted even asking.

"It's just... you've done so many great things and are so perfect the rest of the time that the mistakes you make don't count as much."

That was some seriously flawed logic, but Ford chose not to point it out.

Dipper continued. "I make too many mistakes."

"Dipper, you're supposed to make mistakes. You're twelve. Do you think I was able to do all the things I do now at your age? Not even remotely.

"And more to the point, you don't have to embarrassed about those mistakes. Especially not with me."

"But you're different! You're the author! The author I'd been searching for all summer. You're a dimension-hopping scientist! And surprise, surprise, you're even cooler in person! And I'm just... so... small.

"I keep trying to make myself useful, to be someone you can be proud of, but-"

Ford kneeled down and placed both hands on the kid's shoulders. "Dipper, listen very close to me. I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to really hear me, understand?"

Dipper hesitantly nodded.

"I am so proud of you. You're my great nephew. I'm proud of you every minute of every day. That's not something that can change. You've got nothing to prove to me. You make me proud simply by being who you are. Never question that. Can you do that for me, son?"

The boy looked near to tears.

Oh gods, Ford thought, did he say something wrong? He thought this would make him feel better, not worse! Should he-

Little arms suddenly hugged his neck tight. "Yeah... yeah I can."

Ford could not get his arms around him fast enough.

"Now, don't you ever go comparing yourself to me. What a disservice to your incredible self."

Dipper hugged tighter.

Ford himself could feel little pin pricks in his own eyes. He released his hug and cleared his throat.

"Well, I think we've had enough excitement down here for one day. What do you say we head back upstairs for dinner."

Dipper wiped his eyes with a happy smile. "Sounds good to me."

The two walked back towards the door, a new kind of bond formed between them. It felt like something had been accomplished today, and that was all either of them could ask for.

"You are old, though."

"Oh, I'll show you old. Get back here!"

----

This has been an idea of mine for quite some time. Rewatching the show was just the straw that broke this writer's back apparently. So happy to have finally written this ❤️

#tickle #tickles #tickling #ticklish #tickle community #tickle fic #gravity falls tickles #lee!dipper #ler!ford

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