#lesley smith-juniment

[deepcreekvulture]

More people need to watch Hot Air (2016) cause it is such a cute movie, AND Matthew Gray Gubler is the cutest, sweetest, most perfect guy in it

[whitedovebby]

It's just a natural instinct for people to love Matthew

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

"Hipsophobia"

Lesley Smith-Juniment x Gn!Reader

Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Word Count: 4.9k

Content Warning: Fear of heights, mild panic-attack, smut, oral (male receiving)

A/N: Writing smut as an Asexual is hard, sorry if it's not very good.

Summary: Lesley has been begging to take you on a hot-air balloon ride for a little more than 3 years. As much as you hated saying no to him, your fear of heights always stopped you from taking him up on his offer. But luckily for Lesley, you can’t resist when he pouts like that.

=======

You thought Lesley was awfully cute, even from 30 feet away. Lost in his own little world, surrounded by the big open space, bracketed in by large oak trees. You stood, arms crossed, the tall grass tickling your ankles as you watched him set up his prized hot air balloon.

Even from this far away, you could tell that he was humming to himself as he twisted a canister into place. He had been all smiles all day, gushing over how excited he was to test out his new balloon. He holds the opening of the balloon open, igniting the burner and pulling it up as the hot air floods in.

He knew what he was doing, that much was obvious, he had been taking balloons up for longer than you’d known him. Still, watching that huge flame so close to his pretty face twisted your stomach. Plus, he had almost dropped the canister on his foot earlier. 

Luckily he was wearing his construction boots rather than his birkenstocks. As much as you thought Lesley was perfect, you had a few qualms with his fashion sense. 

Unluckily, he was wearing these thick, chunky, brown gloves, covering up his perfect, model-esque hands.

You finally approach, keeping quiet as you do so, hands sliding onto his shoulders, up his neck and over his eyes. He completely freezes, hunching in on himself. Lifting onto your toes to whisper in his ear, you let the tension settle before speaking.

“Hey there, sunshine, what’re you up to?” You greet, whispering softly as you try not to laugh. 

Lesley relaxes, letting out a groan, “Do you have to do that? You scared the shit out of me” He lets a soft laugh follow, turning to face you. You giggle, the way he curses always sounds so awkward. It was cute. Your hands gently slide down to his shoulders as he spins around, settling just below his collarbones. 

“Yes I do have to do that, it’s my job, though I am grossly underpaid.” A smile gathers at the corners of your mouth, reaching your eyes as you gaze up into Lesley’s calm face. 

“Oh, are you?” He chuckles, his face glowing in the soft evening light. Underneath your palms, you could feel the steady thrum of his heart.

“Definitely, oh- and undervalued. I don’t think you appreciate me Mr. Smith- Juniment.” Lifting a hand, you poked into his shoulder accusingly. His toothy grin widens at your teasing, his head tilting slightly to the side and he lets out a long exhale. 

“Do you want to go up with me?” He asks, eyes shining brightly in the light of the sun, his skin glistening around the perimeter of his face. He slips off his gloves, tossing them at the basket behind him. They hit the ground with a soft thud.

Your face scrunches, “In that death machine? No thanks, I’ll pass.” though you can’t stay like that for long as Lesley’s smile falters.

“It’s not a death machine, actually, I’m sure you’d like it if you gave it a shot.” He pouts a little, his face slightly flushed in the early summer heat. You frown, your resolve bending a little as the corners of his eyes soften.

“Les, you know I’m scared of heights.” Your voice is a lot gentler this time around. The fabric of his plaid button up is surprisingly soft under your touch.

He frowns, pressing his lips together slightly in thought. “I’ll be with you”

“Well, then I would be worried about your impending doom on top of mine.” You wiggle your fingers, tapping them against his clavicle with the soft pursing of your lips.

Lesley watches you as you think, your eyes cast down to his boots. His gaze is soft, a small frown playing at his lips. He had been begging you to go on the balloon with him since you started working as his client relations coordinator three years ago. Your fear of heights always pushed you from taking him up in his invitation, though you didn’t have any issue listening to him gush about the rides after the fact. 

You wanted to go, you really did. But being suspended hundreds of feet in the air in nothing more than a wicker basket?

No fucking way. 

“Listen, Lesley, I would love to go but-”

“You’re coming.” He interrupts, lifting his hands and placing them on top of yours, stilling your nervous tapping.

“I’m sorry?” Tilting your head and furrowing your eyebrows, you watch as he flounders a bit, looking around at the scenery before settling his gaze back onto you.

“I- well- well, I think you need to get over it.” Your eyebrows raise at that, eyes widening at his bluntness, “Not that- not that I think that your fear isn’t valid or anything! God no- no, I just think that you might be a little too stuck in your head about this?”

Even when you should be offended he finds himself firmly planted in your good graces. You couldn’t help but soften a little more, your resolve cracking at his caring nature. You had noticed in the past few months that Lesley had been a lot better at advocating for himself. 

And apparently he was pretty good at advocating for you, too.

“I guess so, but I feel like this might be a little overboard for getting over my fear.” You glance over at the death-coated balloon standing tall behind the flushed man in front of you.

“But if you do this, everything else will seem so much smaller.” Lesley’s voice sounded like a chorus of bells, his logic was wishy-washy, but he was just so Lesley. 

So perfect. 

“I’m very glad that you’re not my therapist,” You chuckle, trying to ignore the way his thumbs brush against the sides of your hands. He laughs, eyes closing and all, and you break. Your posture slackening as you melt under the rays of his smile. He looked like the break of sunlight through the clouds of a thunderstorm.

Pouting a bit, you sigh, your head drooping to look at his boots again. He stays silent, letting you mull it over as you count the scuffs on the edge of the tan suede. Your core temperature rises as his body heat flows into you, your hands trapped between his chest and his all-too warm hands.

“Okay, okay, we can go,” 

His face lights up, somehow shining even brighter as the sun starts to cascade towards the horizon in the west. 

“However,” You ball up the front of his shirt in your hands, “If anything goes wrong, you bring us back down immediately.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He nods vigorously, his hair falling into his face sloppily. He pulls away from you, his hands lingering on your wrists before he turns, grabbing his gloves off the ground. 

Lesley slips the thick gloves on, covering up his slender fingers. You almost whimper, frowning deeply at the sight.

He turns on the burner, the flame large and in charge, he waves you over. He had explained how the balloons worked to you before, but this time, he helped you into the wicker basket, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. 

He hops in with you, hauling the sandbags into the basket before turning to you. “Are you ready?”

You press yourself against the wall of the basket, clearing your throat and shaking your head both yes and no at the same time. Lesley laughs, and it soothes you for just long enough that he can crank the burner without much fuss from you. The hot air floats into the balloon and lifts it off of the ground steadily. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, Lesley, no- No, Lesley, I can’t!” You yelp, sliding down the wall of the basket, looking up at him with wide eyes. You press your hands into the basket, clawing at the material. He crouches in front of you in the enclosed space, putting his hands on your arms, gently guiding you to stand. 

His arm slides around your waist, holding you secure against him as your knees wobble. His gloved hand flattening around the curve of your ribs. 

“You’re okay, we’re fine.” He whispers, leaning forward and pressing his cheek against yours to whisper into your ear. His touch is muffled by the thick gloves, but his hand slides against your back in an attempt to sooth you. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” You grumble, your arms tossed around his shoulders. It took everything in your power to not strangle him in your grip. 

As the ground got further away, your face started to tingle, a wash of numbness falling over you. Behind the cage of your ribs, your heart hammers in your chest, heavy breaths falling from your lips as you watch the terrain drift away. 

“Lesley…” Your voice wobbles, the full weight of your body leaning into him. He responds in kind, adjusting himself to try and hold you up. Your hands claw at his back through his shirt, your panting breaths hitting his neck as your head swims. 

You were going to die. The balloon was going to pop and you were going to fall and you were going to die.

And Lesley.

No, no, no, no. Lesley can’t die, he’s perfect, he needs to live a full life and find someone that treats him right, and have a gajillion kids because there is no possible future that he would not be the world's best father. 

You tighten your grip around him, your thoughts going a mile a minute. They were mostly about Lesley: how to keep him safe in the impending crash, his future kids, the perfect world where you both survive and you have his kids, and the balloon being set on fire. 

The balloon is on fire and you’re dying.

The balloon is on fire and Lesley is dying.

Tears well up in your eyes and you choke out a sob. Lesley’s arm tightens around you, his other hand letting go of the trigger on the burner. He uses his teeth to pull off the fabric glove, securing his arm around you before doing the same with his other hand.

“Hey, hey, listen to me, we’re fine, everything is fine.” Lesley whispers, cupping the back of your head and manually turning you to look away from the ground. Holding you in place, Lesley looks you in the eyes, repeating his reassurance.

“Lesley, I’m scared, this is fucking terrifying.” You rush, your voice and octave shy of a shriek. He smiles in response, cupping your cheek with his warm hand, unobstructed by those gloves you were learning to hate.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not leaving, you're fine, we’re perfectly safe.” His soft voice only served to keep the tears flowing. He uses his thumbs to brush them away just for them to be replaced moments later. His sweetness was pushing you over the edge. 

“If you’re lying and you die, I’m going to kill you” You sob, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Lesley chuckles at your threat, leaning his cheek on your head as he attempts to take one of your arms off of him. It takes a second before he can successfully pry your iron grip off of his shirt. 

Slipping his fingers around your wrist, Lesley guides your hand to rest on his chest, your palm flattening just over his heart. The steady rhythm is soft, only slightly elevated in comparison to your racing heart. 

“Feel that? We aren’t in danger, I’m not scared.” Lesley says, his voice slightly muffled by your hair, “I’ll let you know if you need to be scared,” 

He holds you flush against him, his hand flattened around your waist. He takes slow deep breaths, coaxing you through breathing exercises. Eventually he slides your hand up to his neck, pressing your fingers against his artery instead. You could feel the thrum of his heart with more clarity now, the vein pushing against your fingers with every steady pump of his heart.

Your body slowly relaxed into his, he was incredibly warm, and his steady, rock solid confidence in your safety gave you the comfort you needed to really try and reign yourself in. 

Your heart syncs up with Lesley’s, the rhythm steady and strong. A long silence follows as you focus on the thrumming of his heart against your fingers. Lifting your head, you take in the scenery, there’s a soft tension in your jaw as you peer over the edge of the basket. The ground was far below, the trees just clusters of vibrant green. You could see Austin not too far off, tall buildings breaking up the flat ground below.

His pulse against your fingers keeps you grounded. A soft breeze brushes over your tear stained cheeks, chilling your skin. Clouds blanket the sky, drifting calmly as the sun begins to kiss the horizon.

“I told you you’d like it.” He grins, his eyes locked on your face rather than the picturesque vision around him. 

“Oh shut up…” You grumble, watching a small cluster of birds circle around each other in the distance. Lesley’s smile softens as he takes in your face, flushed from your crying, blanketed in the warm glow of the setting sun. 

Your fingers adjust against his pulse, the touch gentle as you slide them a little further up, resting just beneath the underside of his jaw. He inhales sharply at the feeling.

“Y’know… I could never find the heartbeat in my wrist.” Lesley breaks the silence, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. His smile is as bright and toothy as ever.

“Seriously?” You turn to look at him again, your eyebrows furrowing a bit, though the tension melts out of your jaw. 

He nods, letting go of you slowly and showing you his wrists. He attempts to find the vein, fumbling around with his fingers, making you laugh. 

“Here,” You gently slide your hands along his arm, one hand moving to cup the underside of his wrist, “It’s right next to your tendon,” the pads of your fingers slide along the tendon in the center of his wrist, making him jolt slightly as a chill runs up his spine. Settling your fingers next to his tendon, you apply a little pressure, smiling as you find it. He shuffles uncomfortably, pressing his lips together firmly in order to muffle the soft noise that bubbles up at the back of his throat.

Lesley follows your lead, pressing his fingers too far up his wrist. You correct him gently, placing your fingers over his and guiding him back down to the correct spot. 

“Thank you, Lesley.” You whisper, looking up at him. He smiles in response, shaking his head lightly. The sun begins to set further into the horizon, casting a bronze hue over his features.

There was no mistaking how gorgeous Lesley was on any given day, but in light of a sunset he was a whole other form of beautiful. The warm light shines over the apex of his flushed cheekbones, sinking into darkness within the hollows of his cheeks. His lips, soft looking and pink, are illuminated stunningly by the sun’s farewell. 

As you gaze at him, your fingers still pressed against his pulse, you could feel it quicken. Your anxiety rears its head and you look around the balloon, the absence of ground starting to freak you out as you realize how high up you are. 

Lesley, takes your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “We’re fine, what’s wrong?” He pouts, worried that he had done something to upset you. His thumbs slide over your cheekbones, wiping away any spare tears.

“Sorry- Sorry… your heart rate picked up and I was worried that something happened.” You chuckle dryly, taking a few deep breaths. Tilting your head a little into the warmth of his palms

He looks guilty, chewing his bottom lip slightly before speaking “No, sorry, I just- I just realized something is all.” 

Lesley’s eyes are soft and glistening, his cheeks tinted with more than just the sun’s kiss, and his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip. Heat pools in your stomach at the sight of him, his messy hair falling over his face wildly.

You lift your hand tentatively, gently pushing his hair back. Attempting to tame the wildness of his hair, your fingers slide against his scalp. In the end, you just push it back, mumbling something about him growing it out.

His hands return to your sides, his touch light as his fingers settle into the curve of your waist. Bringing yourself towards him, the tip of your nose brushes against his lightly. Lesley lets out a shuddering breath at the proximity, his large hands sliding down to envelope the apex of your hips.

Lesley was perfect. In every conceivable way. And god he smelled so good.

He tilts his head a bit, letting his lips ghost over yours. You could feel his breath wafting over yours, shuddering and uneven. Your body gravitates into him, hands sliding along the sides of his face lightly, your nose pressing into his cheek. 

The fact that you were a little more than a thousand feet in the air couldn’t possibly bother you now. Your hands slide down his neck, cradling the base of his skull. In your peripherals the sky behind him is blanketed in a pinky-orange hue, clouds breezing across the scape slowly.

Growing impatient, you finally pull him closer, meeting his lips in a short delicate kiss. It doesn’t last long, and you could feel him chasing the feeling of your lips as you pull away. Lesley pouts a bit, his eyes big and round as they look into yours with a silent plea. You couldn’t help but smile, his warmth lingering on your skin. The heat pooling in your stomach simmers into a white hot desire to kiss him again. It’s almost as if he can read your mind when his arm hooks snugly around the small of your back and he finds your mouth again, capturing it within his. 

Lesley’s lips were every bit as soft and warm as you imagined, fitting against yours perfectly. All the years of longing glances and pent up sexual frustration pours out as you kiss him. His hands press firmly into your back as he pulls a long breath in through his nose. His shoulders droop as he melts into you, your chests pressing together as he holds you as close as humanly possible.

Your perfect, beautiful, gentle Lesley kisses with a surprising amount of force. His mouth moves against yours in an intense rhythm, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip as he envelopes your mouth in his. You sigh into his kiss, and his hands travel up your sides. Bracketing your face in his warm palms. He nudges your jaw open with his thumb, sliding the pad of his finger along the flesh of your bottom lip. 

Your hands find their way down his torso, sliding against his plaid shirt before hitting the hem of his jeans. You hook your fingers around his belt loops, keeping his hips up against you. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth, sliding his own against it. He breaks the kiss briefly, huffing out a few breaths against your face before diving back in. You let out a muffled yelp as he crashes back into you, your eyes opening for a moment before fluttering closed once more.

Your fingers trail around his waist band, tugging on the loops a little. Your thumb circles the silver buckle of his belt, sliding down the front seam of his jeans. Lesley chokes out a moan, the force of it breaking the kiss. Rather than let him pull away from you, you trail your lips down his chin. 

Leaving hot open mouth kisses down the center of his throat, your teeth gently graze over his Adam's apple. The tip of your tongue circles it twice before dipping down to the start of his collarbones. 

You trace the outline of him through the fabric of his jeans, circling your index finger around the tip briefly. His jaw falls open at the tease, a shuddering groan falling from his pretty pink lips.

Adjusting, you push your knee between his legs, keeping his hips against you as you take your hands off his waistband. Sliding them up his torso, you unbutton his shirt a little further. You push your leg further between his own, grinding against him. 

“Wait…” He gasps out, contradicting himself and letting his head tilt back for you.

You pause, stilling your lips against the warm skin of his neck, “What’s wrong?” You whisper, pressing a small kiss to his throat.

“Are you- are you sure?” His hips slide against yours, his desperation evident. 

“Very.” You mumble, letting your teeth nip their way across his collarbone. Flattening your tongue, you slide it up the expanse of his throat, pausing as you find his pulse. His heart hammers against your tongue, your teeth nipping lightly at the artery. His hand cradles the back of your head, his slender fingers sliding into your hair.  

You take his skin between your teeth, biting gently into his soft skin with all the care in the world. You suck gently on the bite to soothe the small bruise left in its wake. The vibrations of his moans against your lips fuel the fire and winding you tight. 

Your hands slide down his torso again, leaving his shirt partially unbuttoned. You drag your teeth along his pulse, nudging the collar of his shirt aside as you reach his collarbone. Hands resting on his hips once more, you stop his desperate grinding. 

Lesley huffs out heavy breaths, lacking the stimulation his hips were providing. He goes to speak but is stopped by your hand sliding over his waistband, dipping down to tease him again. You pay special attention to his collarbone, leaving the length of him as an afterthought.

He sighs out your name, sounding a little strained at your touch. You detach from his neck, pressing small kisses to the hickeys darkening his lightly tanned skin. Hooking your fingers into the buckle of his belt, you quickly unfasten it. Lifting your head, you press your cheek into his, feeling the burning shyness simmering under his skin. 

Your lips graze the shell of his ear, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” is all you whisper. You turn slightly, kissing along his jawline in slow drags.

He nods, whispering back an almost inaudible ‘okay’ which is quickly cut off by a sharp inhale as you pop the button of his jeans. Your index finger hooks over his zipper, sliding it down slowly. He squirms a bit against you, the slowness of your movements only proving to frustrate him further. 

His hand grips your hair, tugging your head back to connect your lips to his once again. Mouth slotting against yours, his tongue weaves its way into your mouth, sliding along the expanse of your own. His other hand slides a finger along the line of your jaw, brushing your hair out of your face as he envelopes you in his affection.

You flatten your hand, sliding it into his unfastened jeans. He groans into your mouth, his hips moving up to greet your hand, only separated by the thin fabric of his boxers. You could feel his pulse under your palm as you cup him in your hand, your thumb circling the head lazily. Using your free hand to keep him still, eating up his breathy whines as you tease him. You detach your mouth from his, biting your way down his neck. Taking the time to worship his skin, leaving large dark bruises as your mouth dips down to his exposed chest. 

He huffs out into the open air, moaning loudly as you begin to stroke his length through his boxers. He twitches underneath your touch, attempting to grind against your hand to pick up the pace, but you push his hips up against the wall of the balloon’s basket. 

“Stop.” You whisper, taking his earlobe between your teeth briefly. He groans, untangling his hand from your hair to cover his reddened face. 

Stopping your slow ministrations, you kiss down his throat again, over the curve of his collarbone and down his sternum. Lowering yourself slowly, you kneel on the floor of the basket. You free your hand from his jeans, much to his displeasure, but your fingers hook around his belt loops. Tugging his jeans down his thighs, he lets out a small gasp, panicking a bit as he drops his hand and meets your eyes.

You smile up at him, your hand finding him again, leisurely sliding along him through the thin fabric. Sliding his boxers down his thighs to sit along with his jeans, you take in the full sight of him. 

Your fingers curl around him and he sucks in a breath through his clenched teeth. Tracing the thick vein running along the underside of his shaft, you meet his eyes. His hands grip the edge of the basket, his blunt fingernails digging into the wicker material. 

Lesley’s eyes are blown wide, the honey-like color of his irises limited to a thin ring around his dilated pupils. The flushed color of his skin is illuminated by the thin layer of sweat gathering at his temples. He watches you with labored breath as you slowly begin to pump him in your hand. Swiping your thumb over his tip, you use the precum gathering in the slit as a form of lubricant. He shudders, his mouth dropping open as he lets out a broken moan.  

Leaning forward, you slide your tongue along the side of him, the tip running along the pulsing vein. He buck his hips absentmindedly and you flatten your free hand over his stomach, keeping him pressed against the wall. He whines softly, your hand moving slowly along him, your tongue circling around the tip in an aggravatingly slow fashion. You were toying with him, watching him carefully as he writhes.

The noises falling from his lips sounded like the most gorgeous symphony. You knew full well how desperate he was, his hips fighting to move despite your restrictions.

Flattening your tongue, you take just the head of him into your mouth. You quicken the pace of your hand, pumping him a little faster. You drag your tongue along the underside of his irritated tip, sliding it along his slit. 

Lesley chokes out a strained moan, his head falling forward. Quickly pushing his hair out of his face, intent on watching you despite how achingly slow you were going. His eyelids flutter as you take him further, his head sliding along the flat of your tongue. Dropping your hands to gently grip his thighs, your fingernails lightly dig into the flesh. 

Without restrictions, his hips jerk into you, the tip of him hitting the back of your throat. You groan against him, the vibration almost causing him to unravel. Lifting yourself off of him a bit, you push back down, the tip of your nose brushing against his base continuously as you find a rhythm. Dropping all teasing and focusing on his pleasure, you keep your pacing steady, your tongue curling around his head to provide extra stimulation. 

As you push him closer to the edge, his muscles tense and his thoughts go flat. Lesley couldn’t think or say anything, his brain completely fogging over. His vision blurs as your soft noises vibrate into his sensitive skin, his tip sliding between your upper palate and the flat of your tongue. Completely overcome with everything around him, a bead of sweat trails its way down the tip of his nose.  He couldn’t possibly care how loud he was being under your control.

Feeling himself getting closer, his hands find their way into your hair. He gently rakes his fingers over your scalp as his back arches, pushing himself as far into you as he can. Lesley is completely incoherent, words coming out broken and jumbled in between pants and gasps. He twitches in your mouth, his hips stuttering lightly as he orgasms. 

You take it as well as you can, your nails digging into his thighs as you focus on not choking at his release. His knees wobble, and you pull off of him slowly. You take a second to swallow fully, standing from your kneeling position to hold him upright when he wavers. He looked completely fucked out, his eyes swimming as they land on your face.

Clearing your throat, you speak, “God, Lesley, you okay?” The question is accompanied by a light laugh. You lift your hand, brushing a hand through his hair to get a good look at his face.

“I love you.” He pants, leaning in to capture you in a kiss. He could taste himself on your lips, taking the time to rub his thumbs over your cheeks. 

When the kiss finally breaks, you laugh again, “I love you too, Les, now answer my question”.

“Oh! Shit- I’m so sorry, are you okay? I just-” He cuts himself off, floundering a bit as his mind races with the implications of what just happened. His hands keep your face bracketed in his palms, his eyes searching yours in a panic.

“I’m fine, promise,” Nodding, you press a few quick kisses to both of his cheeks. “Are you feeling okay? Lightheaded at all?” You ask, a little concerned considering the altitude. 

He shakes his head, “I’m perfect, great- you’re great, and perfect.” He scrambles to shower you in compliments, peppering your face in kisses in an oddly apologetic fashion.

“Thanks,” You giggle, smiling as he showers you in affection, “Now, can you bring us down? I’d like to take you to dinner.”

[drownedmuddorothy]

Today is my birthday, so i'm gonna ask for them✨❤️ as presents.

[release-your-sweets]

one of my favorite things about matthew gray gubler is that he still says "i'm matthew" when he meets fans it's just super polite and adorable

[deepcreekvulture]

Everyone needs to watch this movie! I love Hot Air (2016) so much, I watch it at least once a week.

Lesley | Hot Air

[tjwritesfanfics]

Every Universe Masterlist 🌌

A collection of burbs where you fall in love with MGG in every universe.

This is just a way for me to appreciate MGG while I am watching every movie in his filmography.

Main Masterlist

Universe One *Criminal Minds*

You and Spencer are on your way home from a case dealing with multiple universes and you have a very important question to ask him.

"Do you think we are together in every universe?"

Universe Two *68 Kill*

Chip Taylor is done with women... Yeah right.

Universe Three *Zoe*

Micheal thought it was just the Benysol that made him love her, scared it would be more.

Universe Four *500 Days of Summer*

Paul has always loved you ever since day one (basically the reader is Robin in this universe.)

Universe Five *RV*

Joe Joe seems smitten with the girl in the RV next to his family’s, but really bad at talking to her.

Universe Six *Beginner's Luck*

You didn't think he noticed you, but turns out he did.

Universe Seven *Band of Robbers*

If Tom Sawyer's schemes don't kill Joe Harper, you just might.

Universe Eight *Life After Beth*

You really hated Kyle Orfman, but turns out he may not be so horrible.

Universe Nine *Suburban Gothic*

You are getting tired of your no rent paying roommate, Harold the ghost, so you seek the help of the supernatural investigator in town. You just didn't know it was your childhood crush.

Universe Ten *How to be a serial killer*

Bart is happy to find out the cute girl, who always rents 13 going on 30 every Friday, is into the same things he is.

Universe Eleven *Newness*

Being new parents isn’t easy, but there is no one else Paul would rather be doing it with.

Universe Twelve *King Knight*

Thorn’s upbringing was horrible, it felt like betrayal at first, but you weren’t going to let your leader face his demons alone. Your loyalty has him questioning everything around him.

Universe Thirteen *Hot Air*

Lesley is heartbroken. After watching Summer marry Bradley, he didn’t think he could love again. You proved him wrong.

Universe Fourteen *Rumple Buttercup*

You were so excited for the annual Pajama-jam Cotton Candy Pancake parade and more importantly, to work up the courage to talk to the creature with green skin, five crooked teeth, and the banana peel on his head.

This is a purely a friendship blurb only!

Universe Fifteen *Actors*

On an interview with Matthew, he reveals some important information about your relationship and characters.

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[all-i-do-is-live-in-daydreams]

opinions on Hot Air (2016)?

ren I know this is you. and to answer your question, I wanna suck Lesley's face. I feel like that's a good way to explain how I feel about that movie

[deepcreekvulture]

I go through hyper-fixations once every 2-3 months, and right now I am smack dab in the middle of a criminal minds/Spencer Reid/Matthew Gray Gubler hyper-fixation and I can't get enough of this silly ass guy.

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

I can’t tell you how much I love Hot Air, Lesley is perfect.

Mexican Margaritas (Lesley Fic)

Summary: Where Reader meets sunshine personified in the form of Lesley Smith-Juniment, and they help each other through their break ups. A/N: After watching Hot Air, I’m convinced Lesley deserved to be spoiled and chased after, and he didn’t get that with Summer. So here is my take on the perfect woman for Lesley Smith-Juniment (it’s you!). Couple: Lesley Smith-Juniment/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Alcohol, oral (male receiving), penetrative sex Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

The appeal of large scale resorts in foreign countries is the comfort of feeling that you aren’t as far from home as you really are. I knew that when I booked it, since they called it the home away from home, emphasizing the bastardization of a culture to fit into American ideals. That should have been enough of a reason to pick some other place to stay, but it still wasn’t the one that I was pondering over a weak margarita in the lobby of a hotel that had way too many fluorescent lights.

Why did I pick somewhere similar to my home when I wanted to get away? That was the thought that consumed me, drowning out the cheesy pickup lines I’d heard from the few men who approached me despite my horrible case of resting bitch face. Still, I continued to scan the crowd for someone who looked as miserable as I did, but in a more compatible way.

After nearly 3 hours, I found what I was looking for. Across the bar I saw a man, his chin resting on a hand propped up on the bar top. He had a far off look in his eyes that I recognized, and I decided that I had to talk to him.

Keep reading

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Gryfflepuff in the Tardis' Masterlist

All my Works, characters are colored by which Hogwarts House I think they're in. I am a Primary Hufflepuff, Secondary Gryffindor and I genuinely think Hufflepuff is the best and most underrated house. (Since Tumble removed the yellow color, Orange will represent Hufflepuff, except in the condition of Good Omens' Crowley who I am stuck between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. If you disagree, please give me your best argument and I'll offer my insight of David Tennant's Crowley... Since I have nothing written for Crowley and I'm still conflicted about the news on the new "season" (THERE SHOULD BE SIX EPISODES, NOT ONE!) I've added him and other characters I haven't written for YET to my "Who I'm Willing to Write For" post.

I don't do reblogs, just because I feel that when you're searching through the posts, the reblogs clutter up the blog and get mixed with original posts but I am willing to do fan fic recommendations if requested.

You can call me either Gryfflepuff or the Eccedentiast (Not to sound by Lemony Snicket but "a word that means 'someone who hides their pain and tears and sadness behind a smile'.").

Ninth Doctor - Brooding Time Lord Who Tries To Hide His Light with Darkness

Supernova Series/Season One Masterlist (Ninth Doctor/Tenth Doctor) (Delilah "Lillie" Tyler/Princess Supernova played by Katherine Langford)

Campbell Bain - Bipolar Nineteen-Year-Old Walking Ray of Sunshine That Somehow Doesn't Do Well With Girls

Sweet Jane Masterlist (19-year-old Campbell Bain x 18-year-old Traumatized Reader)

Steve Harrington (Stranger Things) - The Hair; Nomenee for Mother of the Year

Killer Queen (Cassandra "Cassie Dare" Henderson played by Zoey Deutch; Pan Henderson played by David Tennant)

Trauma (Emilie Henderson played by Hailee Steinfeld)

Devil Town (Imogen Henderson played by Katherine Langford)

Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf) - The Abused Puppy With a Heart of Gold Who Only Wanted the Power to Defend Himself and To Not Be Scared

Embers in the Sky Season One (Milo Stilinski played by Katherine Langford)

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) - The Genius Pretty Boy

(I have created so many ideas for the initial character, Zoe that I may have to split them up among Spencer Reid main character love interests and because of more complicated reasons I will explain in Valentía)

Valentía (Zoe Noble-Valdez played by Selena Gomez)

Valentía Season Masterlist

Valentía Season One

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

I have created an OC to be the Henderson!OC and Dustin's father and I always choose David Tennant, he just really gives off protective I-will-kill-anyone-who-hurts-you dad vibe and I have a soft spot for an overprotective dad for his daughter (I never had that. My dad wanted a boy--granted the disapproval that's implied is possibly because my mom told me this--and he is ADHD and was always sleeping and then he moved two towns over which was an hour's drive but seemed longer in my ADHD mind but so he could sleep and I could play video games on the Xbox that's memory wouldn't save the game so I continuously had to start over. Oh, and also, there's the fact that a TV fell on me when I was five/six because I didn't understand gravity and I locked myself in the dryer when I was seven/eight. What, is that not normal? 🙄) I'm not a big crier but a father that's willing to do anything for his daughter is your best bet. Sorry for this rant.

[deepcreekvultures-writing]

Main Blog: deepcreekvulture

ao3: deepcreekvulture

I do not take requests.

=======

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds):

Tequila & Palmistry- Tumblr / ao3 - Spencer Reid x Drunk!Reader, fluff, mild hurt/comfort, 4.7k words

Stellar Collision (18+) - Tumblr / ao3 - Spencer Reid x F!Reader, Fluff, Smut, 8.2k words

Lesley Smith-Juniment (Hot Air 2016):

Hipsophobia (18+) - Tumblr / ao3 - Lesley Smith-Juniment x Reader, Fluff, Smut, 4.9k words

Simon "Ghost" Riley (Call of Duty):

A Heavy Burden to Bear- ao3 - Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader, angst, 6.2k words, unfinished 2/3

[reidecorating]

Matthew Gray Gubler as Lesley Smith-Juniment in Hot Air (2016)

[tobias-hankel]

Lesley Smith-Juniment is just Spencer Reid in closed-toe Birkenstocks.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Mates (Lesley Fic)

Summary: You and your roommate Lesley didn’t really think through the timing of this hookup.

A/N: It’s about the yearning. It’s about the idiots in love. Couple: Lesley Smith-Juniment/GN!AFAB!Reader (no mention of breasts, pronouns) Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral sex (AFAB receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, mutual pining Word Count: 3.3k

MASTERLIST

You hadn’t intended to end up in bed with your roommate, but once you were there, you realized that there hadn’t been anywhere else you’d rather be. There had just been something about him that night, with his cheeks tinged like blush roses and his laughter laced with the heavy scent of sweet liquor. His honey irises and sweet scent drew you towards him.

When you’d moved closer to him on the couch, Lesley had not protested the proximity. If anything, he’d moved closer, too. The two of you had spoken about how silly it was that it could still be so cold this time of year, despite the thermostat inside reading a healthy 25°C. You’d taken full advantage of whatever excuse or justification could be thought up, and when you’d run out, you relied only on knowing glances and roaming hands.

You couldn’t remember which of the two of you closed the gap first, but it didn’t seem to matter. Once your lips touched, you’d given up at keeping any sort of score. You were too busy running tongue over pink peach lips, summer sweet and sticky from the spirits. It only seemed sensical, that the liquor would bring you two together again, and again, and again.

When Lesley had broken the kiss, you’d almost protested. But then his hand had found yours, and his eyes had lowered to watch the way your fingertips danced with his before falling into place between the gaps. He’d inspected the way you two fit together like one of his many creations. He’d looked at you like he’d seen the pieces of himself coming together.

You couldn’t remember which of you had closed the gap the first time, but the second time had definitely been Lesley. It had been less prepared, hasty and naive in his excitement. His free hand that’d been too shy to touch you before clumsily clambered to your face, where he’d pulled you even closer.

As you’d struggled to find air between him and his enthusiasm, you’d realized that maybe it had just been your time to go, smothered with the love of Lesley Smith-Juniment. Thankfully, though, he’d disagreed. He’d selfishly wanted to take just a little bit more before he’d let you go again. You’d had no objections.

He’d led you down the hallway of the house you two shared, and you’d sworn you’d never seen it look like that before. You’d looked at the walls, adorned with hand-painted art of every beautiful thing that had ever reminded you of him, and you wondered if he’d also infused you into every part of his world. You’d realized that at some point between the first time you met and he awkwardly shook your hand and that moment, you’d fallen in love with the human embodiment of everything pure.

And, somehow, he’d chosen you, too.

So there you were, caught between silk sheets and a man whose softness the threads would envy. With every eager kiss he granted, you would reward with a smile or a chuckle that was quickly mirrored. The silence was notable, but not unwelcome. Truthfully, you were convinced that if you’d spoken, you might spook the poor doe-eyed boy away entirely.

But then his fingers found their way under the hem of your shirt and you weren’t able to stop yourself from calling his name.

“Lesley…”

He paused, pulling back to look at you for what felt like the first time. You couldn’t be certain what he saw, but you could be sure that it was something beautiful. Because his lips barely parted to take in a sharp, quick breath that was immediately expended in kissing you again.

Deprived of oxygen and any lingering patience, the two of you got to work stripping the few physical layers that remained between you. Each inch of exposed skin felt like rediscovering yourself after a lifetime of waiting. He said nothing, but every so often he might murmur something that sounded like your name against your skin.

Curiously, once you were finally naked, Lesley didn’t touch you in a lewd manner. Everything about him remained so blissfully innocent, wrapping around your naked form and holding you tightly for a few moments that felt too brief. He drew his nose up your throat and over your chin, taking his time and utilizing every possible tactile signal to cherish you.

You hadn’t intended to fall into bed with Lesley, but he’d clearly been thinking of it as often as you had. There was no other way to explain the tenderness and care with which he touched you. The way drunken, whiskey and honey colored eyes watched your every reaction when his hands finally fell between your legs.

It felt a little bit like Heaven and a little bit sinful when his finger breached your opening, with precious precision but never any pain. He had no reservation or fear, just an unending desire to watch your mouth drop open to make way for lustful sounds of praise.

“You are so wonderful,” he whispered while he watched, and you wondered if he’d even meant to say it at all. But then he continued as his fingers found the place they’d sought, “I want to have you forever.”

And you wanted to tell him that he could have you whenever, forever, however he’d pleased. But you were too scared by the suddenness of the confession and the scent of sweet ethanol to allow yourself to take his words seriously.

You closed your eyes instead. You felt his warmth dissipate as he pulled away, and you thought to yourself that maybe you’d made a mistake in ignoring his honesty.

“Lesley, I—“

The words are cut off by the visceral reaction to his breath on your stomach. But he still paused, waiting for you to look down at him and tell him whether he should stop his descent or the affair altogether. His eyes are glassy with want and with an almost solemn wistfulness. Almost like he’d been looking at you like a dream that he’d only just remembered he would eventually have to wake up from.

You thought of the words you’d meant to say, the brief moment of doubt that had been immediately followed by an even more regrettable ardor to return the confession and join in his catharsis.

Deciding that a healthy compromise had never hurt anyone, you made up your mind.

“I want you, too,” you said, in place of the more honest but more terrifying, ‘I love you.’

But that strange, soft boy smiled at you from between your legs like he’d heard it all the same. His fingers remained gentle and persistent, gently cradling you both inside and out and pressing soothing kisses just above your pubic bone.

He took his time loving and lavishing you, drawing his tongue through the wetness he’d elicited so far and seemingly smiling at the taste of you. There wasn’t a single complaint nor concern as he explored the area well enough to be able to rebuild the scene in his mind whenever he wanted.

Eventually, he took time to create new would-be-memories by pressing his tongue against the small bundle of nerves above where his fingers continued their slow, methodical ministrations. It was odd, how something so calculated could feel so intimate. But it had. It felt like he’d taken to you like one of his equations and he’d returned all of the right answers.

Lesley broke you down in the best ways, and when your legs started to tense and cover his ears, he only pulled them closer with his free hand. Short, blunt fingernails dug into your skin to demonstrate that you were not the only one who sought to be consumed by the other.

You glanced down at him, lost in the throes of passion despite having barely been touched so far, and you wondered how it ever came to be that you were lucky enough to land — completely by accident — into Lesley’s bed. Into his hands and possibly his heart.

That was the last thing you could think before the cosmos collapsed, the tension in your stomach breaking free in the form of his name forced between broken moans. The most bittersweet release, the otherworldly euphoria that meant that you were one step closer to his leaving your body again.

When he pulled away, though, he still stubbornly refused to go far. His lips, still wet with you, left a trail of sloppy kisses up your stomach and over your sternum until he found a comfortable home against your collarbones just like he had before. His arms were more tired, but still just as insistent when they wrapped around you.

“I want you,” he mumbled against your neck, and you felt it in every part of you.

“Still?” you try to tease, but he is not joking when he responds, “Always.”

Your breath caught in your throat, lodged with your heart that had leapt from its place in its pursuit of his. You didn’t speak, choosing not to trust your traitorous mouth not to spill its secrets in case the dam broke. Instead, you took a page from Lesley’s book and let your body say what you were too afraid to.

There was no struggle between your bodies. Your hand wrapped around delicate, silken skin and was rewarded with a low, rolling groan. The kind of wanton sound that somehow seemed both out of place and perfectly at home on his tongue that still tasted like you.

But when he kissed you, you realized that he had made you sweeter somehow.

Although you felt a little bit guilty for not spoiling him as he had done for you, you were also sure he hadn’t minded when you guided him to your entrance. Like always, Lesley’s passion quickly evolved, and he’d escalated your motions exponentially every time he was given the opportunity.

For every inch you lifted your hips, he was ready to meet you halfway until he had nothing left to give and you had nowhere else for him to go. But that stubborn boy persisted in his pursuit to imprint on every inch of you. When his tongue wasn’t tangled with yours, it was marking any skin that you could hide beneath clothing.

You tried not to overthink his mercy; you reminded yourself that he was kind and not conniving in his love. For a moment, you considered asking him to draw his signature with bruises across your neck for the whole world to see that you belonged to him, but then he began to move, and you were too devoted to memorizing that feeling to muddle it with any worries.

His hands caressed your face, feeling the heat at the apple of your cheeks with roaming thumbs. He held you in a way unlike anything you’d ever felt before, and you realized that you never wanted it to end. You realized too late, and your hands couldn’t catch his before your skin was exposed to the air that honestly did feel cold now that you knew the alternative.

“Hold me,” you begged, only to realize that your words had been premature.

His hands had found yours again among the strewn sheets. He clutched them for dear life, pressing the backs of your hands against the bed with everything he had in him. It wasn’t until then that Lesley met your eyes again, with an undercurrent of anxiety but an overwhelming reverence.

His hips moved slowly, drawing out each motion and moan. You took note of the veins in his neck calling out to your lips, and you tried to calm his pounding pulse with gentle brushes and butterfly kisses. The touches tickled, but his chuckle carried a heavy, somber feeling with it.

“Honestly…” he muttered once his little nudges guided you back to him. He lost the words for a second longer, watching you like he was already experiencing the nostalgia from how this would all end.

“Honestly, I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to let you go again,” he whispered.

So don’t, you challenge him with nothing but your stare. Again, it seems like he hears the words through the broken whimpers.

He felt the love flowing out from your fingertips that pressed into his hands. You felt guilty for holding him too tightly, for damaging those hands that did nothing but give. But you also knew he would understand how necessary it was.

The force behind each movement grew to overwhelming levels. Your legs that had been wrapped around his waist slipped and fell to the side, and he took advantage of the freedom it granted him. He held your legs just as delicately as he had everything else, but that time it was in strong contrast to the brutal crashing of hips.

The sounds and heady scent of sex filled the room, and you selfishly thought to yourself that some part of his room should belong to you. It was only fair, you reasoned, that he could give a pillow in exchange for your heart.

Lesley cut the thought off with another clumsy kiss, with teeth clacking together and his breath wetting your upper lip as he struggled to remain composed. He’d wanted to look you in the eyes again first.

Once he did though, he couldn’t stop what happened next. With your hands still in his, he bottomed out inside of you and held himself there. You watched the lights and euphoria dance along fluttering eyelids and dewy, pink cheeks, and were surprised to find yourself falling all the same.

The two of you fell like petals on the wind, unhurried and without anywhere else to go. Lesley managed to stay above you just long enough to watch the last of the display. He felt your body relax, but your hands held on, before he finally let himself let go.

He let go of your hands, but both of you used your newfound freedom to cling to each other in a different way. Lesley shifted so that he could look at the way you smiled when his fingers brushed over your still parted lips.

And you realized that maybe — just maybe — you had always intended to end up in his bed. And perhaps Lesley had intended for you to, too.

Lesley’s mothers were known for their intuition. Granted, their son had never really been very good at hiding secrets. His emotions had always been embroidered on his sleeve with rainbow-colored threads.

When the two of them had arrived at his house, to meet his new roommate for the first time and to celebrate a recent growth of his business, they had been expecting a few things. Awkward handshakes and insecure wayward glances; perhaps there might even be some stern warnings about the tender-hearted nature of their baby boy.

But it was clear upon arrival that any fear or concern about him was premature, and possibly entirely unnecessary.

Lesley’s mother watched him carefully as he cut the fruit in front of him. Each piece fell casually, with odd ends and disproportionate sizes. The inconsistency didn’t seem to bother him at all. He appeared downright serene, smiling without seemingly being aware that he’d taken on a new neutral expression.

She thought back, trying to find the last time she’d seen him look so… calm.

“You seem less stressed than my son. The one that I’m used to,” she commented.

The comment ripped him from his reverie, but he said nothing. Although, she noticed that he cleared his throat in a failed attempt to hide the way his cheeks turned pink and his breath came faster.

“Is work going well?” she asked.

Lesley quickly nodded, and his mother noted that he spoke faster and with a higher pitch when he had a secret to hide.

“Yeah, I just have more time now. I guess they weren’t lying when they said the more successful you are, the more boring your job becomes.”

Not much had changed since he was a boy. That was alright with her, though. She brushed his hair from his face to take in the sight of her son and all of his shifty glances. He was still smiling, albeit more nervously now.

“I don’t think any normal person would describe that exchange as ‘boring,’ but… I always knew you were at least a little bit exceptional,” she teased. He took the praise graciously, but was immediately surprised to hear the sounds of riotous laughter from the next room over.

The two of them leaned back to see their respective person, lost in the ruckus of their own voices. Lesley’s mother looked away approximately five seconds faster than her son, just so she could catch the way his eyes lit up at the sight of his roommate getting along with the more stubborn of his mothers.

“You seem to have found yourself someone nice to spend the time with.”

“Definitely,” Lesley whispered with an unmistakable fondness. A reverence that could only be described as the most powerful form of love.

But then he noticed the way his mother was looking at him, and pink cheeks turned hot until they matched the erratic slices of apples and peppers on the plate in front of him.

“Definitely nice… to... have a roommate, I mean.”

“Hmmm,” his mother mused with a knowing, scrunched up smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she assured her son, “I’m glad you’re happy.”

She paused when she noticed she’d lost his attention once more. She followed his eyes through the open door to see the others again.

His mother laughed as she took the knife from the hopeless boy to her left.

“And I am glad that your roommate is nice.”

“Yeah,” he said as the happiness spilled from his mouth in the form of a giggle, “Me too.”

Lesley’s mothers were known for their intuition. That was exactly why when they left later that afternoon, they were both exhausted and excited by the events of the day. It had been a good visit. They were proud of their son and the company that he kept.

But still, they found themselves caught in a different set of feelings only halfway related to the young couple they left behind. The two that were awkwardly standing just a little too close on the porch as they waved his mothers off.

“Seeing those two together brings back a lot of memories, huh?” his mother said, suddenly reminded of the days where the two of them had done the very same.

Both of the women recalled with perfect clarity the way that they both would hold hands under dinner tables and sneak kisses in poorly lit hallways.

“Yeah, it does,” her wife replied.

“I remember the days when that’s what we were,” she giggled.

Then, together, they both whispered in unison the word they looked back on fondly.

“Roommates.”

“They’ll laugh about it, too. One day,” her wife chuckled before interlocking fingers over the center console. They watched the couple disappear in the rear view, and one of them swore that she’d seen her son take his roommate’s hand too.

She almost said something about it, but like old married couples tend to do, her wife interrupted the thought with another astute observation.

“Our son… he’s not the brightest, is he?” she asked.

“No, poor thing is like a golden retriever,” Lesley’s mother answered a little too quickly. The two of them snickered at their shared secret; their knowing of the reason behind their son’s smitten smile.

They were both known for their intuition.

So they knew they were right when they agreed, “He’ll get there, though.”

“Yeah. They’ll get there.

(Tell me what you thought of this story here!)

[prettyboyreid]

i just rewatched hot air and all i have to say is i’m in love with lesley smith-juniment

i wanna write a fic for him now