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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction.

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door.

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men.

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son.

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos.

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June.

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one.

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle.

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily.

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass.

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room.

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at.

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh.

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself.

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on.

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans.

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely.

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people.

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving.

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean.

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow.

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway.

She couldn��t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation.

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him.

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective.

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently.

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly.

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet.

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter.

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera.

What a funny thing.

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights.

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything.

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction.

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters.

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted.

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward.

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants.

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire.

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer.

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand.

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds.

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over.

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it.

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie.

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added.

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth.

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him.

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie.

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog.

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth.

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair.

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap.

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table.

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor.

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time.

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss.

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts.

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.”

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching.

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name.

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly.

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned.

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more.

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head.

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole.

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely.

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly. “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck.

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes.

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy.

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths.

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw.

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.”

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch.

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly.

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath.

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her.

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt.

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily.

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his.

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit.

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him.

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would.

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure.

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

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#12daysofspnkinkmas2023 #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction

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bradshawssugarbaby · 5 months

Text

Uptown Girl - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley is in love with the admiral's daughter. He needs to win her heart the best way he knows how - serenading her with the help of his friends.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings: swearing, Jake teasing Bradley about being old.

word count: 2k

“Man, I can’t just go talk to her.”

Bradley put his head in his hands as he sat at the back of the Hard Deck with his friends. Running his long fingers through his short, golden-brown curls, he sighed before looking up, his hazel eyes full of anxiety and frustration. He’d been pining after a girl who’d become a regular at the local bar for a while - the first day he’d seen her, he was smitten.

She’d come in with her long hair pulled back into a sleek, high ponytail, a warm, friendly smile on her features as she spoke with a few others in the bar. Bradley had wondered who she was, and where she’d come from, a question none of his squadron seemed to know the answer to. That was, until their team lead, and Bradley’s surrogate father of sorts, piped up with an explanation, having heard Bradley audibly swooning over how great she was to everyone in earshot.

“That’s Admiral Simpson’s daughter. I wouldn’t try your luck there, if I were you, Bradley,” Maverick had warned, smirking as he took a sip from his beer glass as he looked over between Bradley and his mystery girl.

Bradley had gone quiet upon learning this information, unable to even fire back at his friend Jake’s retorts and quips about how Bradley was punching above his weight on this one, even as a skilled aviator. In a way, Jake was right, no amount of skill or experience in the air, no number of awards for his service, or medals of honor could put him in the same league as the Admiral’s daughter. Her father had recently become the commander of the entire Pacific fleet, and Bradley was just a lieutenant, serving as an aviator for the past 19 years, his entire naval career.

At nearly 40, Bradley was beginning to consider retirement, weighing his options between becoming a flight instructor for Top Gun, the very flight academy program that he’d graduated from himself, or, ending his naval career to enter civilian life happily. With the exception of Maverick, the rest of his team were considerably younger than he was, the next oldest being Jake, at barely 35. Admiral Simpson’s daughter was easily a decade younger than him, if not more, and probably accustomed to much more in life than anything Bradley could offer her. Naval rank aside, she was likely much more used to living the life of luxury, where as Bradley had never really experienced it, outside of the odd frivolous purchase here or there, like his 1972 Ford Bronco, custom painted bright blue to restore it to its former glory when he purchased it.

Despite all these reasons why Bradley should just forget this juvenile feeling crush he’d developed on her, he couldn’t shake it. Every time he caught a glimpse of her stunning smile, or heard her infectious laugh, the sweetest sound his ears had ever come across, he couldn’t help but fall right back into it again, like a trap that was set perfectly for him. Bradley was head over heels, but worst of all,

“You’re fucked, man. You can’t win here.”

Bradley sighed again as he shook his head, bringing himself back to the present moment. He looked up at Jake, who, upon seeing the confused look on Bradley’s face, laughed and repeated himself.

“I said, you’re fucked, man. There’s no winning here, you either go in there, you say hi to this girl and you ask her out, her dad finds out and you get your ass shipped out to another base faster than you can salute, or you ask her out and she turns your old ass down, either way, you’re going to end up unhappy and not with her,” Jake shrugged as he sipped his beer, leaning on his pool cue.

Bob, the more shy, reserved of Bradley’s team, shook his head. He pushed his glasses up on the end of his nose, adjusting them as he set his plastic cup down on the bar counter, shrugging his shoulders as he interjected, a rare occurrence for Bob, most of the time.

“I mean…Bradley could probably win her over,” He said quietly, nodding his head, “It wouldn’t be hard, I mean, he has an impressive career record, he’s a nice guy, he’s not bad to look at,” Bob shrugged, “I think he could pull it off. It’s her dad I’d be worried about. But, maybe he wouldn’t care so much? It’s not like Bradley’s gonna – what’s that term again? Hump and go? Surf and turf?”

“You mean hump and dump?” Jake snickered, shaking his head, “I think Brad here’s a bit old to pull off the hump and dump nowadays anyways. Maybe 20 years ago.”

“Easy, I only just turned 39 in June, thanks.”

“39 is practically old enough to be a grandfather, Bradley,”

“Oh come on, it is not,” Bradley frowned as he looked at his friends. Bob fiddled with his glasses nervously, avoiding eye contact, Jake smirked as he held back a laugh, and Reuben and Mickey pretended they didn’t hear the conversation, focusing instead on their game of darts taking place a couple of feet away, “Is it?”

“How many years older than you is Mav, man?”

“I dunno,” Bradley shrugged his shoulders, “22, maybe? 23?”

“Right, so when he was 39, you were…?”

“Uh,” Bradley looks up at the ceiling as he counts in his head, trying to work out the math, “16?”

“Right…you see where I’m going with this?”

“Fuck, you’re right, I could be someone’s grandfather. Jesus Christ,” Bradley frowned, shaking his head as he sipped his beer again.

“Relax, you’d have to had a kid at like, 23 or earlier, who also had a kid young for it to work, but it’s not impossible, is all,” Jake nodded matter of factly as he sipped his drink. Jake grinned as he spotted the girl in question walking by their seats, his elbow sharply poking Bradley in the ribcage as he nodded his head slightly in her direction.

“Now’s your chance, loverboy. Take it now if you’re gonna shoot your shot,” Jake whispered with a smirk on his lips.

Bradley nodded his head once and took a deep breath as he set his beer bottle down on the table. With a nervous smile, he put his aviators down over his eyes to hide their anxious gaze before heading over to the piano. If there was one thing Bradley could do to win her over, it’d be serenading the bar with a fun, classic upbeat tune. Normally, he’d go for his favourite, Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lewis, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Bradley put a hand on Jake’s shoulder, his grip firm as he leaned in to whisper to him.

“How confidently can you sing Uptown Girl?”

“You mean like, “uptown girl, she’s been living in her uptown world, I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy…?” Jake laughed as he cocked his eyebrow, singing the chorus of the song in his slightly off key baritone, “Oh, you’re not seriously doing this, are you?” He drawled, shaking his head before shooting Bob, Reuben and Mickey a look of disbelief.

“I love that song!” Bob said enthusiastically as he stood to his feet, “We’ve got your back, buddy, let’s go win her heart!”

Jake rolled his eyes and laughed before following Bradley and his friends to the piano. Bradley took his seat on the piano bench, lowering his sunglasses to make eye contact with his dream girl’s gaze, a confident smirk on his face as he winked at her before putting his glasses back on. He wasn’t sure if it was the beer coursing through his veins or the sheer smitten head over heels side of him taking over, but his new found confidence had Bradley playing the opening bars of the 80s hit on the piano, his friends offering nothing but encouragement for his somewhat ridiculous idea. It wasn’t the smoothest way to get a girl’s attention, but, it was different, and would almost certainly stand out in her mind, he reasoned with himself.

“Uptown girl, she’s been living in her uptown world. I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy, I bet her momma’s never told her why,”

Bradley sang out, his deep, gravelly voice ringing out as he carried each note perfectly in tune as he played the song’s melody on the piano.

“And now she’s looking for a downtown man, that’s what I am,”

Bradley’s eyes met with hers as he sang, unable to stop himself from smiling wider than he probably should have as he belted the song out, making it clear that out of the crowd of people around them singing along, his full intent was just to get her attention on him.

“And when she knows what she wants from her time, and when she wakes up and makes up her mind,”

Bob, Jake, Reuben and Mickey harmonized alongside Bradley, making for a perfectly imperfect set of backing vocals. While none of the four of Bradley’s backup singers were particularly great singers, their harmonies were enough support for Bradley to carry his way through the song without looking like he’d just lost his mind and started breaking out into song.

“She’ll see I’m not so tough, just because, I’m in love with an uptown girl, you know I’ve seen her in her uptown world. She’s getting tired of her high class toys, and all her presents from her uptown boys, she’s got a choice,”

As Bradley continued to sing it out, with his friends as moral and vocal support, he noticed that his mystery girl was making her way closer to the piano, seemingly leaving behind whoever she had arrived with as she inched her way towards the man who was apparently serenading her in the middle of a crowded bar near a naval base. She flashed him a smile, her cheeks a soft blush as she raised an eyebrow at him. Bradley couldn’t tell if the blush in her features was from embarrassment or flattery, but he hoped it was the latter of the two.

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fine, and when she’s talking, she’ll say that she’s mine,”

Bob and Jake began dramatically singing with one another, using Jake’s empty beer bottle as a makeshift microphone, while Mickey excitedly drummed along with his hands on the wooden top of the piano. Reuben began dancing slightly as he sang along to the words, all four men now completely immersing themselves in their performance with Bradley, and all four likely contemplating how they’d get Bradley to repay them for their public humiliation in the name of getting him a potential date.

Bradley grinned as she approached the piano, her hands resting on the wooden top as he played the last few notes of the song, his eyes completely fixated on hers. To him, at that moment, she was the only person in the room. The only face he cared about in the crowded bar was hers, and now, it was right here, standing in front of him.

“You’ve got quite the talent,” She curled her sheer, gloss-coated lips up into a grin as she leaned on the top of the piano, looking directly at Bradley.

“I’m a man of many talents, this was just a couple of them on display,” He nodded his head once, trying to keep his composure as she leaned towards him, willing his eyes to not wander down her body, “I’m Bradley. Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, US Naval Air Force,” He said his title with a sense of pride that he hoped didn’t come off as bragging.

“Nice to meet you, Lieutenant,” She grinned, pointing to his empty beer bottle that sat atop the piano beside her, “Care to grab another one of those with me?”

“Absolutely,” Bradley said as he hopped off the piano bench at an almost breakneck pace, leaving Jake, Bob, Reuben and Mickey fighting off fits of laughter at Bradley’s eagerness.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you

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femmehysteria · 6 months

Text

Best Character Named X Poll

FOLLOW @best-character-named-x-poll

I'm doing a series of "Best Character Named X" polls where all the characters have the same first name but are from completely different media, feel free to send in name/charcacter suggestions, I'm posting one poll a day. New polls scheduled for 1:30PM GMT everyday.

ask box closed for now

WILL BE POSTING POLLS ON @best-character-named-x-poll FROM FEB 1ST

If your favourite character is not included in the poll very sorry i have either never heard of them or actively chose not to include them as theres only 6 characters per poll. Characters will only count of that is their first name, surnames do not count.

Round 85: David

Round 86: Tiffany

Round 87: Charlie

Round 88: Sandy

Round 89: Cody

Round 90: Amanda

Round 91: Jeremy

Past Polls and Poll Ideas under the cut

Names that I have a complete list for*

Caroline, Tyler, Louis, Leonard, Rebecca, Steve, Nicole, Isabelle, Victoria, Katherine, Jade, Alex, Sophie, Greg, Jake, Ellie, Isaac, Robin, Tony, Annie, Lisa, Margaret, Oliver, Clark, Kara, Phoebe, Emma, Ruby, Bart, Alfie, Beth, Julian, Nancy, Penny, Margaret, Tessa, Erica, Theresa, George, Kevin, Sebastian, Felix, Martin, Michael, Erin, Caleb, Helen, Charlotte, Kyle, Martha, Diana, Elsa, Gary, Zoe, Connor, Colin, Daisy, Eric, Maya, Adam, Andy, Magnus, Alma, Nora, Alice, Spike, Leon, Marcel, Kim, Juno, Sue, Chris, Otto, Donald, Daphne, Kate, Todd, Ned, Ken, Angel, Judy, Jo, Hazel, Naomi, Diego, Miranda, Joel, Lila, Duncan, Dexter, Meredith, Pearl, Lily, Malcolm, Napolean, Joan, Nico, Jamie, Nadia, Velma, Jill, Kiera, Rory, Evan, Tam, Klaus, Neil, Derek, Michelle, Luna, Laila, Cordelia, Zack, Imogen, Felicity, Cindy, Alicia, Kelly, Alan, April, Astrid, Delilah, Jodie, Claudia, Juliet, Karen, Jonas, Milo, Celia, Hannah, Joy, Ethan, Katya, Aria, Atticus, Ian, Cynthia, Faye, Frank, Boo, River, Corey, Gabrielle, Minerva, Ebony, Zia, Beverly, Rudy, Georgina

Names I have an incomplete list for (welcome to send character suggestions)

Richter, Sean, Troy, Cain, Agatha, Warren, Percy, Reggie, Mina, Ryan, Felicia, Dylan, Josh, Shirley, Debbie, Jared, June, Mabel, Ray, Chad, Moe, Hugh, Fearne, Christine, Joe, August, May, Scarlet, Alana, Leela, Manny, Dean, Francis, Mason, Oscar, Quinn, Guy, Ulrich, Wally, Yasmin, Tobias, Woody, Sabrina, Quentin, Margot, Alina, Matilda, Freya, Kendra, Angus, Ophelia, Leisel, Zelda, Adora, Piper, Scarlet, Sheila, Valentine, Laurie, Laurel, Fitz, Violet, Gabriel, Ford, Artemis, Owen, Bianca, Newton, Summer, Darcy, Noah, Taylor, Miriam, Hugh, Aurora, Hank, Henry, Dawn, Delia, Cosmo, Wanda, Zeke, Cecil, Aiden, Calvin, Ayesha, Beatrice, Parker, Chase, Hunter, Tina, Misty, Amaya, Amara, Harvey, Talia, Tatiana, Tanya, Orion, Eugene, Kit, Bo, Duke, Blue, Cameron, Rudolf, Mara, Marianne, Carl

Feel free to send more suggestions

*subject to change, you can still submit a character if there is no strikethrough if you think theres a character that its an absolute crime i dont add. Please don't suggest anything for the names with a strikethrough as they are polls that are already in my queue waiting to be published.

Past Polls

Round 1: Peter : WINNER: Peter Parker (Spider-Man)

Round 2: Elizabeth : WINNER: Elizabeth Swann (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Round 3: Jason : WINNER: Jason Mendoza (The Good Place)

Round 4: Eve : WINNER: EVE (WALL-E)

Round 5: Fred : WINNER: Fred Jones (Scooby-Doo)

Round 6: Rachel : WINNER: Rachel (Animorphs)

Round 7: Arthur : WINNER: Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Round 8: Amy : WINNER: Amy Pond (Doctor Who)

Round 9: Tom : WINNER: Tom (Tom and Jerry)

Round 10: Claire : WINNER: Clare Devlin (Derry Girls)

Round 11: James : WINNER: James (Pokemon)

Round 12: Max : WINNER: Max (Black Sails)

Round 13: Simon : WINNER: Simon Belmont (Castlevania)

Round 14: Jane : WINNER: Jane Crocker (Homestuck)

Round 15: Victor : WINNER: Victor Nikiforov (Yuri On Ice)

Round 16: Mary : WINNER: Mary Poppins (Mary Poppins)

Round 17: Will : WINNER: Will Graham (Hannibal)

Round 18: Laura : WINNER: Laura Palmer (Twin Peaks)

Round 19: Ben : WINNER: Ben "Obi-Wan" Kenobi (Star Wars)

Round 20: Chloe : WINNER: Chloe Price (Life Is Strange)

Round 21: John : WINNER: Jonathan Sims (The Magnus Archives)

Round 22: Lydia : WINNER: Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice)

Round 23: Mark : WINNER: Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

Round 24: Jess : WINNER: Jesse Pinkman (Breaking Bad)

Round 25: Theo : WINNER: Theobald Gumbar (Dimension 20: A Crown Of Candy)

Round 26: Sarah: WINNER: Sarah Jane Smith (Doctor Who)

Round 27: Richard : WINNER: Richard Gansey III (The Raven Cycle)

Round 28: Cass : WINNER: Cassandra Cain (Batman)

Round 29: Edward : WINNER: Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Round 30: Carm : WINNER: Carmen Sandiego (Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?)

Round 31: Hal : WINNER: HAL9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey)

Round 32: Sid : WINNER: Sydney Adamu (The Bear)

Round 33: Jack : WINNER: Captain Jack Harkness (Doctor Who)

Round 34: Stephanie : WINNER: Stephanie Brown (Batman)

Round 35: Ash : WINNER: Ash Ketchum (Pokemon)

Round 36: Veronica : WINNER: Veronica Sawyer (Heathers)

Round 37: Kurt : WINNER: Kurt Wagner aka Nightcrawler (X-Men)

Round 38: Eleanor : WINNER: Eleanor Shellstrop (The Good Place)

Round 39: Nathan : WINNER: Nathan Young (Misfits)

Round 40: Fiona : WINNER: Princess Fiona (Shrek)

Round 41: Gale : WINNER: Gayle Waters-Waters (Chris Fleming)

Round 42: Barbara : WINNER: Barbara Millicent Roberts aka Barbie (Barbie)

Round 43: Sam : WINNER: Samwise Gamgee (Lord of the Rings)

Round 44: Grace : WINNER: Grace Chastity (Nerdy Prudes Must Die)

Round 45: Barry : WINNER: Barry Bluejeans (The Adventure Zone)

Round 46: Raven : WINNER: Raven (Teen Titans)

Round 47: Dan : WINNER: Danny Fenton (Danny Phantom)

Round 48: Mia : WINNER: Mia Fey (Ace Attorney)

Round 49: Matt : WINNER: Matt Murdock (Daredevil)

Round 50: Rose : WINNER: Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

Round 51: Robert : WINNER: Robbie Rotten (LazyTown)

Round 52: Lola : WINNER: Lola Bunny (Space Jam)

Round 53: Scott : WINNER: Scott Summers aka Cyclops (X-Men)

Round 54: Olivia : WINNER: Olivia Octavious (Spiderverse)

Round 55: Finn : WINNER: Finn the Human (Adventure Time)

Round 56: Emily : WINNER: Emily Charlton (The Devil Wears Prada)

Round 57: Elliot : WINNER: Eliot Spencer (Leverage)

Round 58: Sonia : WINNER: Sonia (Pokemon)

Round 59: Gideon : WINNER: Gideon Nav (The Locked Tomb)

Round 60: Jen : WINNER: Jennifer Check (Jennifer's Body)

Round 61: Miles : WINNER: Miles Morales (Spider-Man)

Round 62: Lana : WINNER: Lana Skye (Ace Attorney)

Round 63: Spencer : WINNER: Spencer Shay (iCarly)

Round 64: Tracy : WINNER: Tracy Turnbald (Hairspray!)

Round 65: Luke : WINNER: Luke Skywalker (Star Wars)

Round 66: Natalie : WINNER: Natalie Scatorccio (Yellowjackets)

Round 67: Harry : WINNER: Harry Du Bois (Disco Elysium)

Round 68: Lucy : WINNER: Lucy van Pelt (Peanuts)

Round 69: Damian : WINNER: Damian Wayne (Batman)

Round 70: Tabitha : WINNER: Tabitha Casper (Dan and Phil Games: Sims 4)

Round 71: Nick : WINNER: Nicholas D. Wolfwood (Trigun)

Round 72: Gwen : WINNER: Guinevere (Merlin)

Round 73: Paul : WINNER: Paulette Bonafonte (Legally Blonde)

Round 74: Abigail : WINNER: Abigail Hobbs (Hannibal)

Round 75: Jordan : WINNER: Jordan Baker (The Great Gatsby)

Round 76: Donna : WINNER: Donna Noble (Doctor Who)

Round 77: Morgan : WINNER: Morgana (Merlin)

Round 78: Allison : WINNER: Alison Cooper (BBC Ghosts)

Round 79: Patrick : WINNER: Patrick Star (Spongebob Squarepants)

Round 80: Linda : WINNER: Linda Belcher (Bob's Burgers)

Round 81: Philip : WINNER: Philip J. Fry (Futurama)

Round 82: Clarisse : WINNER: Clarisse La Rue (Percy Jackson)

Round 83: Jeff

Round 84: Maria

#best character named x #poll #poll game #my post

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best-character-named-x-poll · 3 months

Text

Best Character Named X Poll

please send suggestions via ask so i can see them, replies get lost in the notes. I reply chronologically so very sorry if it takes a while for me to answer

Round 172: Jake

Round 173: Ellie

Round 174: Leo

Round 175: Annie

Round 176: Julian

Round 177: Lily

Round 178: Chris

Past Polls

Poll Ideas under the cut

Names that I have a complete list for*

Caroline, Rebecca, Steve, Victoria, Katherine, Robin, Clark, Phoebe, Julian, Nancy, Penny, Erica, Theresa, George, Felix, Michael, Charlotte, Diana, Zoe, Connor, Daisy, Maya, Andy, Alma, Nora, Juno, Otto, Donald, Todd, Angel, Judy, Jo, Hazel, Diego, Miranda, Lila, Duncan, Dexter, Meredith, Pearl, Malcolm, Napolean, Joan, Nico, Jamie, Kiera, Tam, Klaus, Luna, Laila, Zack, Imogen, Felicity, Cindy, Alicia, Kelly, Alan, April, Astrid, Delilah, Jodie, Claudia, Juliet, Jonas, Milo, Celia, Joy, Katya, Atticus, Ian, Cynthia, Boo, River, Corey, Minerva, Ebony, Zia, Beverly, Rudy, Quentin, Marvin, Miriam, Roxy, Percy, Bianca, Shirley, Beatrice, Amara, Cleo, Cecil, Amaya, Ryan, Mabel, May, August, Leela, Manny, Francis, Matilda, Deborah, Josh, Jared, Sabrina, Kendra, Angus, Ophelia, Liesel, Zelda, Fitz, Aurora, Ramona, Misty, Talia, Orion, Roy, Kala, Madeline, Anastasia, Anna, Kit, Marian, Lena, Polly, Cora, Leah, Jules, Artemis, Irene, Margo, Laurie, Laurel, Hilda, Valentine, Reggie, Felicia, Joe, Monty, Quinn, Skye, Walter, Christine, Marissa, Edmund, Hope, Oberon, Lorna, Ace, Wally, Calvin, Alana, Jasper, Fergus, Bridget, Ulrich, Roger, Mason, Stella, Lenore, Wanda, Miguel, Winona, Hannibal, Newt, Aiden, Oscar, Tobias, Dorian, Dorothy, Una, Marnie, Mirabel, Wendel, Dora, Mort, Olympia, Toby, Chip, Harvey, Mara, Fearne, Axel, Gil, Bo, Remy, Rue, Leslie, Isabelle, Silas, Agnes, Luther, Sally, Delia, Zeke, Richter, Skylar, Scarlet, Bernard, Rusty, Ray, Nigel, Cosmo, Ruth, Selina, Harley, Blue, Cain, Warren, Missy, Perry, Paige, Duke, Tao, Gemma, Cornelius, Declan, Wendy, Apollo, Celeste, Clyde, Nicole, Summer, Hugh, Esther, Cole, Jean (french), Tatiana, Carl, Kieran, Melody, Adrian, Travis, Vivian, Haley, Elle, Prudence, Hans, Ralph, Azrael, Constance, Lauren, Molly, Agatha, Pauline, Athena, Darcy, Stan, Dana, Lee, Ford, Red, Stuart, Camille, Bruce

Names I have an incomplete list for (welcome to send character suggestions)

Richter, Dylan, Chad, Moe, Dean, Guy, Yasmin, Woody, Alina, Freya, Adora, Piper, Gabriel, Owen, Noah, Taylor, Dawn, Ayesha, Parker, Chase, Hunter, Tina, Tanya, Cameron, Rudolf, Melvin, Melanie, Melissa, Melinda, Wolf, Orlando, Adele, Adeline, Jem, Dolores, Jude, Callie, Irma, Lara, Ginger, Terry, Bellamy, Jacob, Jackson, Reese, Nemo, Addison, Adelaide, Candy, Harriet, Abraham, Ragnar, Rupert, Ella, Destiny, Wendy, Bernard, Hero, Drew, Anita, Raphael, Wallace, Jean (feminine), Elena, Cheryl, Rita, Blair, Hugo, Ike, Gaius, Lance, Lois, Riley, Shane, Cliff, Rod, Tegan, Matthias, Liam, Jed, Caeser, Ellis, Dennis, Josie, Mick, Mike, Heather, Trixie, Amber, Bailey, Esme, Ada, Briar, Puck, Eden, Annette, Letitia, Giselle, Suki, Zain, Keith, Ron, Olaf, Wilfred, Blaine, Pam, Brianna, Clive, Sabine, Roman, Carina, Kalina, Mindy, Wade, Julia, Marlene, Lex, Edith, Monet, Marina, Zara, Tsukasa, Octavia, Marcus, Elias, Mira, Sasha, Glen, Yukari, Dinah, Sloane, Farah, Norman

Feel free to send more suggestions

#best character named x #poll #poll game

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ave09 · 10 months

Note

hi! could I please request a harrison x reader fic where the reader is a journalist and is interviewing and photographing him at his home and he’s being flirty and all that good stuff 🥹 preferably early 80s indy era harrison but whatever youd like, thank you!

ofc! this was so cute!

mr. ford

harrison ford x journalist!reader

note: i love harrison so much. that’s all.

were you nervous? yes, 100%. it’s not everyday you have a chance to interview the harrison ford in his own home.

this was a big moment for you and for your career. you could not screw this up. you’d been assigned this project with very specific requirements, and had emailed ford’s manager, hoping that harrison would take up the offer, considering all the rumors you’d heard about the man and interviews.

but he seemed delighted. or at least that’s what his manager said. he gave you a specific date and time when the actor would be at home and free, sending you his address two days before the interview was to take place.

as you drove to the address, every now and again glancing at the navigation system, you felt your stomach churn anxiously as it dawned upon you what you were going to do.

you were about to interview harrison ford. the harrison ford, the man who has played two of the most iconic characters in movie history.

and you were very much a fan. you’d seen all of the star wars movies in theaters and the two indiana jones films as well. and he was absolutely amazing in both.

and knowing you’d be interviewing him, you needed to keep your cool. how embarrassing would it be to have a professional journalist be freaking out over such a star?

it wasn’t long before you arrived. you parked along the side of the road in front of the actor’s house. you sat in the vehicle for a moment, willing yourself to move, growing more anxious by the minute.

only when you saw the front door open did you dare to open your door.

“hello!” a deep voice called, and it was him. harrison ford. standing just a few feet away. was your mind playing tricks on you, or did he seem more handsome in person?

“hi!” you responded, retrieving your bag from the passenger seat that contained your notebook and your camera.

“you’re the journalist, right?” you nodded, “yes, mr. ford.” you said, closing the door behind you as you approached the man who was currently walking up the driveway. “please, harrison is fine.” he assured as you stood before him. the man extended a hand forward, “it’s a pleasure to meet you miss…”

“(l/n). (f/n) (l/n).” you took his hand, giving it a firm shake as he sent you a smile, “beautiful

name.” he complimented, and you glanced away bashfully, refusing to meet those hazel eyes.

“thank you.” the man let go of your hand before beckoning you towards the front door, “well, why don’t we get you settled inside so we can get started?”

“that would be wonderful.”

— — —

harrison’s home was very different then you expected it to be. it was more.. homey. but, it was nice. he led you to the sitting room, gesturing to the large couch, “you can take a seat over there, or wherever you like, it doesn’t really matter to me.” you sat upon the couch, setting your bag beside you.

“can i get you anything? water, wine?” you shook your head, “i’m alright, thank you.” harrison nodded before taking a seat in the recliner across from you.

you retrieved your notebook and pen from the bag, flipping it open to a fresh page. you cleared your throat, “i just wanted to give a little run through of how this is going to go, if that’s alright with you?”

the man remained quiet, his hazel eyes locked on you. you swallowed thickly, feeling your nerves return, “uh.. mr. ford? is that alright with you?”

he blinked, before nodding, “yes, sorry, i was just distracted.”

“okay. well, i understand that you usually get the same questions about your roles, preferably han solo and indiana jones. but for this, i wanted it to go your way. what do you want to discuss, what do you want to tell the people?”

he smiled, a real genuine smile. “that sounds fantastic.”

the interview went smoothly, and you learned so much about the man. many of what he said was personal, and you assured that you’d keep that off the record and only write about what he’d said about his career.

it no longer felt like a professional interview, but instead a conversation amongst two friends.

“what about you?” he said suddenly. you furrowed your brows, “what about me?”

“well, i’ve been talking about myself this whole time, what about you?”

you smiled softly, “i’m not the one being interviewed.” “we’ll see about that.” before you could ask what he met, the man reached over, taking the notebook from your hands before flipping to a new page. he flashed you a smile, “now, tell me about you. i’ll make sure any personal information is off the record.” he said with a wink.

you couldn’t help but laugh. “oh god, well, i’m an aspiring journalist. i.. um.. i like reading. i suppose that’s where the inspiration to be a journalist started-“

“and if you don’t mind my asking, are you a single woman, miss (l/n)?” you were surprised, feeling your face flush, “why? wanna take me out on a date?” you asked, a mischievous smile on your lips.

harrison shrugged, “maybe. would you be interested?” you couldn’t believe it. “wait-are serious?” you questioned, your voice soft. he nodded, “of course i am. that is, if you want too of course. i wouldn’t want to force you.”

you couldn’t believe it. the harrison ford, a man who you’d admired for quite some time, was asking you out on a date?

was this real life?

or just a fantasy?

harrison tilted his head slightly, giving you a smile, “so what do ya say, darling? can i take you out? dinner?”

you hesitated before beaming brightly, “yes. yes you can, mr. ford.”

#harrison ford movies #harrison ford x reader #harrison ford #young harrison ford #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #han solo #han solo x reader #indiana jones and the temple of doom #star wars #indiana jones and the raiders of the lost ark #star wars imagine

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numinousmysteries · 3 months

Text

Dancing the Tandava (3/10)

[on Ao3] @today-in-fic

Washington, D.C. 1993

It’s only a few months into her assignment on the X-Files and Scully has made it a point to arrive at the office on time. Still, her perplexing partner always manages to get there first. It’s as if he sleeps in this underground lair or he’s afraid to leave her alone in his sacred space. Neither would shock her.

She doesn’t have a handle on Mulder quite yet. His intelligence fascinates and intimidates her. Trying to keep up with his mental leaps leaves her breathless. His ideas are out there, but his hunches are correct an eerie amount of the time. The unexplainable phenomena she’s seen piques her innate curiosity even though none of it fits into her framework of the coherent, reassuringly knowable universe.

He has every right to treat her with disdain. He had her number as a spy (albeit an unwilling and increasingly disobedient one) from their first meeting, and her doubting nature and innate need to play by the book only slows him down. But he seems truly interested in her thoughts and ideas even if they don’t align with his own. She was mortified when she nearly stripped in front of him on their first case to show him the marks on her back, but he never made her feel embarrassed.

Her job is to keep tabs on him but the more cases they investigate together, the more inclined she feels to protect him and his work. Her loyalty is slowly shifting from the establishments she’s long unquestionably trusted to Mulder and his singular quest.

When she shows up this crisp November morning, he’s already at his desk thumbing through a file. He’s wearing thin, wire-framed glasses and a tie with a dizzying, Escher-esque maroon and olive pattern. She thinks he’s handsome, then pushes the thought away. Getting involved with superiors and co-workers is a habit she’s actively trying to break.

“Morning, Scully,” he says, without looking up.

“Morning,” she replies, coming to sit across from him. “Anything interesting?” She gestures to the file on the desk.

“That depends,” he says, taking off his reading glasses and making eye contact with her. This boyish smile and the gleam behind his eyes are already familiar to her. They’re signs he’s found a case that’ll likely lead them into trouble. It both scares and excites her. “How interested are you in the Fouke monster, a.k.a. the Southern Sasquatch, a.k.a. the Swamp Stalker?”

“I have to admit it’s never crossed my mind,” she says.

“Oh, Scully.” His smile widens. “You’re in for a treat.” He turns the file around so she can read it. The first thing she notices is an amateur sketch of a Bigfoot-like creature with red eyes.

“A giant, hairy creature first spotted in Fouke, Arkansas, in the mid-nineteenth century, the Fouke monster has been described as being over 10-feet tall with glowing blood-red eyes. In 1971, Bobby and Elizabeth Ford of Fouke reported that the creature had broken into their home. A neighbor actually shot at it, and supposedly made contact, but it wandered off into the night. That was the last sighting, until a week ago when a group of teenagers camping out at nearby Boggy Creek say he got into their tent and stole all of their rations, including two family-size bags of Doritos.”

“Is Doritos theft a federal crime?” she asks him with a raised eyebrow. He better have more evidence than the shaky testimony of some teenagers to go off. “Or do you just want to go Sasquatch hunting?”

“By the tone of your voice I can tell you’ve never had the pleasure of goin’ squatchin,’' he says, his hazel eyes lighting up as they meet hers. It’s almost enough to make her blush.

The shrill ringing of the phone on his desk interrupts them before she can respond.

“Mulder,” he answers. She can hear the garbled sound of a male voice on the other end of the line.

“My what?” Mulder shouts into the phone, startling her. “Who is he?...Okay, we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

He hangs up the phone and turns his attention back to her. “Change of plans,” he says. “The Fouke monster will have to wait. We’re headed to Montauk. East End of Long Island.”

While she’s partly relieved she won’t have to interview a bunch of stoned teenagers about their alleged monster sighting, the rapid shift in Mulder’s attention gives her whiplash.

“What’s in Montauk?” she asks.

“A historic lighthouse, the shark hunter who inspired Jaws, and actually decent surfing for the East Coast,” he says, grinning at her.

“And yet why do I suspect you aren’t going to ask me to pack a wetsuit?” she asks.

He gives her a shoulder shrug and a pouty lower lip. “I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Seriously, Mulder,” she says, starting to lose her patience. “Why are we going to Montauk?”

“A disoriented young man has appeared at a decommissioned army base and specifically asked to speak with us.” He’s already up out of his chair digging through a filing cabinet.

“Did he mention what he’s so desperate to talk to us about?” she asks, trying to see what files he’s gathering.

“He says he’s from the future. The year 2023 to be exact.”

Scully laughs. “Mulder, that’s ridiculous. He’s probably some UFO fanatic who wants to meet you.”

Mulder shakes his head. He’s taking this seriously. “I think you overestimate my popularity,” he says.

“What about Max Fenig? He said he’d been following your work for years and that he’s not the only one.”

“Well, no one else has ever claimed to be my son before,” Mulder says. “Or that you’re his mother.”

She’s immediately taken back. Mulder has proposed a lot of improbable theories and ideas during their partnership, but this one might be the most ludicrous. He’s already grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair but Scully raises her hand to stop him.

“Mulder, wait,” she insists. “I don’t have to tell you how ridiculous that is. While I can’t speak for you, I know I don’t have a child, and I can say with total certainty that we’ve never had one together. Besides, you said ‘young man.’ How old is he?”

“I don’t know,” Mulder responds. “The officer said early 20s. He didn’t have any identification with him.”

“We were children ourselves 20 years ago,” she says, barely resisting an eye roll. “I can all but guarantee you this is someone pulling a prank.”

“I’m inclined to agree with you,” Mulder says. “But I have a feeling we should check this out. It’s not just what he said, it’s where he turned up.”

“Montauk?” she asks, confused.

“Not just anywhere in Montauk. At Camp Hero.”

“Yes, a decommissioned army base as you said,” she repeats.

“A supposedly decommissioned army base,” he grins. “CIA operatives at Camp Hero have reportedly been using extraterrestrial technology for experiments on everything from mind control and weather manipulation to the creation of wormholes for time travel. The project allegedly shut down in the 1980s when the base closed, but I’ve heard rumors that the work never stopped.”

He flips a file open on the desk facing her. Inside is a black and white photo of a giant radar tower and a hand-drawn blueprint of a building with rooms labeled “hypnosis lab” and “carrier oscillator.”

She tilts her head at him and squints. This is a lot, even for Mulder.

“So your theory is that you and I have a son who’s traveled back in time to—what? Come say hi?” she asks.

Mulder shrugs. “You said it yourself in your thesis: ‘Although common sense may rule out the possibility of time travel, the laws of quantum physics certainly do not.’”

If she did believe in time travel, this would be the perfect moment to return to her undergraduate days and choose a new thesis topic for her future partner to one day quote back to her.

“I know what I wrote, Mulder,” she says. “But that was a theoretical argument not a practical one. I was discussing the possibility of time dilation, an expanding or contracting of relative time as it’s experienced. There’s no science or technology that would actually allow someone to move forward or backward in time.”

“No science or technology that we know of yet,” he counters. “Let’s see what our boy cooked up in 2023.”

There is always the option not to leave with him—to stay in the office and write up a report while he goes chasing what is almost certainly a dead end—but she knows she’ll never choose that door. Instead, she retrieves her coat from the hook on the back of the office door and follows her frustrating, beguiling partner.

#xfiles #txf #xf fanfic #msr #xfiles fanfic #x files #the x files

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smh0217 · 2 years

Text

RWBY Transformers AU: Vehicle Mode headcanons

Autobots

Ruby - Lamborghini Huracan

Weiss - 2023 Tesla Roadster

Blake - Triumph speed triple 1200 RS

Yang - 2024 Z28 Chevy Camaro

Jaune - V-22 Osprey

Nora - JLTV (Joint Light Tactical Vehicle)

Pyrrha - Bugatti Divo

Ren - 2020 Kawasaki Ninja

Oscar - 2022 Honda Ridgeline

Penny - Defiant X Helicopter

Decepticons turned Autobot

Emerald - Mercedes-AMG GT Black Series P

Ilia - Aprilia RS 660

Hazel - 2012 Terradyne Gurkha F5 LAPV

Decepticons

Cinder - F-35 Stealth Fighter

Mercury - 1967 Ford Mustang

Neo - BMW S 1000 RR

Roman - 2013 Rolls-Royce Wraith

Adam - Lamborghini Sián FKP 37

Watts - CH-6 UAV Drone

Tyrian - A giant scorpion

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spoopydooblr · 11 months

Text

My King Will Be Kind Chapter 4 / Kendall Roy x OC

an: another chapter!! enjoy!!

tw: cursing

Stella expected Kendall to suggest that she go home, but he did the opposite. They laid on the bed, almost-naked and in each other's arms.

"You know you can uh, stay over." He said, and she swore he was being a little shy.

She had just met this guy, who she assumed was just a fun story to tell her friends, and now he's asking her to stay over?

"Are you being serious?" Stella sat up, suddenly feeling naked in his discarded Tom Ford shirt. She didn't know how else to respond to his question.

"Yeah I'm fucking serious."

"Tomorrow is like, Monday." She had a somewhat important meeting the next morning to talk scripts.

"Then we'll set an alarm." He said it like it was obvious.

The pictures of Kendall with supermodels and strippers flashed in her head. He was probably just being nice. What the fuck was he doing with someone like her?

"Look, Kendall--"

"I get it. But I'm not that guy anymore." He seemed to have read her mind. "I like you."

What the fuck?!

"You just met me." Stella knew she was famous, sure, she hit one million followers on Instagram last month. This life wasn't foreign to her. But the Roy's were different. They were the bosses of her boss's boss. "No offense, but like, what do you want from me?"

He laughed. "Nothing." Kendall started, his lips curving into a smile. "Well, I guess I'd love to fuck you again."

She had to laugh. "No, but, why me?"

"Because you're smart. And you're like, fuckin talented."

"Bit of fan behavior, ah Ken?"

"When I saw you at the club I knew I had to talk to you."

She blushed. "You could have anyone you wanted--"

"And you couldn't?" He was wrong, but she wasn't about to tell him the late nights she spent, longing for men who just wanted a quick fuck. Everyone in Hollywood was the same.

"You'd be surprised..."

"What man..." He pulled her down by the collar of his dress shirt she was wearing, flipping them over so he was on top. "Wouldn't want you?" he kissed the exposed skin on her neck. Stella ran her hand through his hair. His tongue danced along her collarbone.

"And you in my fucking shirt." He moved his hands underneath the hem. "What do you think, Stella girl?" His fingers brushed her nipples under the oversized garment. "You like me too?"

Fuck. Was she really about to do this?

It slipped out of her mouth before she could stop. "I mean, yeah."

"Good." He said, moving his mouth to hers. "Then stay."

She broke the kiss, looking into his hazel eyes. There was this Bassett Hound quality about them. "Okay."

Kendall woke up before her, tying his tie in the mirror as she opened her eyes. He was wearing a plain black designer suit with a perfect fit.

Stella immediately panicked, had she missed her alarm?

"Oh, shit. What time is it?"

"Five-thirty, you have another hour."

She breathed a sigh of relief, but questioned, "Why are you up, Ken?" It was suddenly cold next to her. "Come back to bed."

"I have this uh, stupid fucking meeting today with the sibs." He checked himself out in the mirror. "The pj leaves at 7."

"Oh, poor you, business meetings and pjs." Stella teased. She flew semi-private with the Delirium cast last year, but a regular private jet was different. He probably flew private every month. Maybe every week.

Kendall smirked, finishing with his tie. "Breakfast should be here soon. I had Jess order like, every kind of bagel, so hopefully that's something you're into."

Stella didn't know who Jess was or why she was on bagel duty, but she nodded. "Bagels sound delicious." It was a bit of a lie, as her breakfast usually consisted of an iced latte and a piece of gum, but after last night, she was famished.

"Good." He walked over to the bed and kissed her softly. "I had fun last night."

"Me too, Ken."

"Good. Because we're like, fucking, fuck Gods, I swear."

Stella stifled a laugh. He truly spoke in a manner that she had never heard before.

"When can I see you again? What's the schedule like for an up and coming genius writer like yourself?"

Here he was, calling her a genius without reading a single word of hers.

"Um, I'm not sure honestly. I have like, meetings and shit, but I can make time. I think you're probably a little busier than me, though."

"Fuck, you're right. Roman's like, been up my ass for this deal, and Shiv, God, she's like on some other level recently. And Con...fuck, he's getting married next week."

"Who?"

"Oh, my other brother, Connor. He's, uh," Kendall looked for the words. "He's running for president."

Stella immediately knew what he was talking about. She recalled the various twitter rants that Kendall's brother went on throughout his campaign. He wasn't quite neonazi level, but there was much to be desired in the intelligence department.

Lost in her thoughts, Stella didn't notice Kendall take out his phone and make a call.

"Jess, hey, what's the uh, eta on the bagels?" He paused. "Okay, great." Kendall looked up at Stella and mouthed 'latte?' She eagerly nodded. "And two lattes, regular milk, none of that liberal milk, okay? You're the best. Thanks."

"Liberal milk?"

"Like, you know, the oat and cashew shit, all that."

"You're insane."

Kendall grinned. "Speaking of my brother's wedding." He sat down next to her on the bed. "What would you say about being my date? Rava and the kids aren't going so you don't have to worry about that if it's an issue."

Uh oh. This is what she feared the most: a public outing with Kendall. Stella was sure there would be a million cameras there, capturing the most recent Roy wedding. She had a reputation to uphold, and being on Kendall Roy's arm was not a part of that. The kids and ex wife were the least of her worries.

"Kendall--"

"I know. You're a fuckin feminist icon. Roy-a-palooza isn't really good for the optics."

It was true, her fans depended on her to stay true to her beliefs. "Yeah."

"Just think about it, okay? I promise it'll be fun."

Stella nodded. She would definitely think about it. The thought of attending a public event with Kendall made her stomach turn, but not necessarily in the bad way she thought it would. Kendall wasn't attached to ATN like he used to be, and judging by last year's feminist rants on Twitter, he seemed to be turning to the 'liberal mob' that his family feared so much.

Before she could say anything else, her ears perked up as the front door of the apartment opened.

"Bagels." Kendall smiled and got up from the bed. As he reached the threshold he turned, "and I left some clothes out for you. If you don't mind wearing my sweats."

She definitely did not mind.

He left the room, closing the door behind him. It was small gestures like that in which he showed he cared, and Stella could feel it. She walked to the bathroom, pulling the Tom Ford shirt closer to her body.

On the bathroom counter were gray sweatpants and a worn, navy Harvard sweatshirt. She recalled from her online stalking that he graduated from Harvard Business School in the 90's. It was easy to feel his personality through everything he did. He could've left her naked or just in his shirt, but he didn't. The sweatshirt seemed to say 'you're mine now'.

Stella changed and tried her best to freshen up. Her makeup from the night before was smudged across her face, and she was definitely the poster child for sex hair. She walked out of the bathroom and looked for her purse, needing a hair tie, but realized it was in the kitchen. Sex hair it is.

"Hey." She said, turning the corner to the expansive, all-white kitchen.

"Hey." Kendall smiled at her, spreading cream cheese on a blueberry bagel. Interesting choice. "Latte." He said, handing her a plastic to-go cup filled with coffee and ice. She gladly took it.

"How did you know I wanted iced?"

"Because, uh, you're fuckin twenty-six."

"Offended. But, um, true." She blushed, sipping her coffee out of the plastic-free compostable straw.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to get going." He said, genuinely disappointed. "Fikret can come back to pick you up after he drops me at the airfield."

"Kendall." Stella said, a serious look on her face. "I'm not using your driver."

"I won't let you take the subway."

Stella scoffed. "I'm gonna do it just because you said that."

Kendall shakes his head. "Fine. Enjoy the rats." He stepped towards her, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her into him. "I'll miss you, Stell."

She bites her lip. "I'll see you soon, I promise."

He kissed her, soft and slow, like he's trying to savor the moment.

"Good luck." She grasped his hand one last time.

"Wait, so you go out without me ONE night and now you're fucking a billionaire?!" A female voice yelled from the other end of the phone. Stella was sitting on her tiny couch in her tiny apartment, trying to process the events that just happened to her. The minute she got home she called her best friend, Lauren. Lauren and Stella had been through it all together, first meeting three years ago on the set of Delirium.

"Yeah, I guess?" She said.

"I can't believe it. He's the literal L to the OG guy."

"I know. I almost asked for a private concert."

Lauren started singing the song, and Stella followed. "A N he playin..."

"Playin like a pro!" They laughed.

"Was that for his like, Dad's birthday or something?"

"50th anniversary of Waystar RoyCo, actually."

"God, you're whipped. Please tell me you're seeing him again."

"Well...it's complicated. He invited me to his brother's wedding this weekend, but I don't know-"

"Oh, you're so going."

"I know, I know, but what about the optics?" Stella cringed. She hated worrying about what people thought of her, but she had to.

"Who cares? Sure, his dad is like the worst, but isn't Kendall like, out of the company now?"

"I guess..." Stella was about to protest, but her doorbell rang. "Hold up, Laur, someone's at the door."

"Is it Kendall?"

"I don't think so. He's on a private jet right now." She didn't mean to brag, but it kind of came out that way.

"Of course he is."

Stella opened the door, careful to not let her dog out. A man holding a giant bouquet of flowers stood before her.

"Stella Allen?" he said. She could barely see his face because of how massive the flowers were.

"Um, yeah?"

"From Mr. Roy." He said, handing her the vase.

"Oh...thanks?"

The man nodded and walked away. She closed the door behind her.

"So Kendall just sent me a giant bouquet..."

"No fucking way!" Lauren screamed from the phone speaker.

Stella put the flowers down on her kitchen counter. "They're fucking massive, I don't even know what to do."

It was true, she really had no idea what she was going to do.

#kendall roy #kendall roy x oc #kendall roy x reader #succession #kendall succession

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lgwifey · 2 years

Text

PARTIES & PYJAMAS

noel gallagher x fem!reader

90s!damon albarn x fem!reader

summary : Y/n's life was nothing short of ordinary. She left her friends and family behind for her dad's job but soon made new ones.

warning : n/a

MASTERLIST

1988

She was nineteen when she left Manchester. It wasn't even like she only moved to Blackpool or something, no her dad just had to get a job in Whitechappel !

Y/n waved goodbye from the brand new Ford's passenger seat, the boxes and bags of luggage taking up both the boot and the back seats. Her friends all waved back, the rotten group of council estate kids she been sibling tight with since as far back as she could remember, the rotten kids she'd been apart of her whole life. There was only one person missing.

"Ready to go ?"

The voice hid the pain. Three months ago you wouldn't think that this would be happening, nothing out of the ordinary would seem to be happening.

"Yeah,"

Her voice was pulled out to be more steady after her start of words,

"Yeah let's get goin' ."

Her bitten hands pulled the grey seatbelt over her torso and clicked it into the red buttoned slot.

He wasn't there when she needed him. The past few years that had been happening way to often.

So she got driven away. She left with her eyes locked on the pair of matching ice blue eyes as his younger brother waved her off.

1992

The room echoed, a thud filling y/n's head. She rushed her way through the clusters of sweaty and drunk adolesence.

If it wasn't for it being Jess' party there would be no way in hell that she'd be here right now. She had been struggling to keep down stomach acid all week and the slightest bit of noise freaked her brain into acting as if someone was playing the drums in her head. Yet here she was, dolled up to the nines in the tightest and shortest dress she owned with a full face of makeup and her hair done. Her shoes where casual blue and white adidas.

Well, casual blue and white, vomit splattered adidas now.

Thats how Jessica found her, bent over next to the front garden gate throwing up onto Hazel's bloomed petunias.

"Oh y/n/n ! My mum's gonna kill me."

When the brunette twenty year old finally pulled her friend out of the flowers she scouldered her, only then did more yellow stomach acid poor itself on the other set of golden flower's Hazel had just finished planting the other week.

"I'm dead !"

By the time everyone had been kicked out of the house by the youngest Albarn it was just passed two am.

She threw herself on her single bed, y/n following after.

"Hey, if you wanna look on the brightside, you can always just blame it on Damon ?"

Jess pushed herself up to balance on her elbows, so she was able to glare at her friend.

"I'm next to positive that he's in London, why d'you think I held it tonight."

Y/n gave a groan, straightening her head to stare up at the popcorn ceiling again.

The entire of downstairs was covered in post-teen chaos residue. The girls had had the genius idea to put one of y/n's little brother's baby gates on the stairs which had somehow kept all the drunk idiots they called friends away.

"When d'your folks get in ?"

"Eight twenty."

Her brain wasn't ready to do maths yet but she was near positive that her body wouldn't be up by then if she felt asleep now.

So, y/n reluctantly pushed herself off of the duvet and back down the stairs, muttering to Jess that she can stay in bed and that she'll sort out the mess.

It took about two more hours to fully tidy the house and y/n was sure that the Albarn's neighbours where going to kill the twenty three year old for turning the hoover on at 4:30 am.

As she was about to lock the front door, the handle slid down and the white plastic cracked open. She felt her body jump out of it's skin but took a breath smothered in relief when a blonde haired twenty four year old peaked through.

He fully emerged when he found the lights to be on.

"What time d'ya call this young man ?"

The y/h/c girl gave a mocking tut after Damon had shut the door and was slipping his coat of.

He mustn't of noticed she was there because his body stumbled backwards and nearly onto the floor upon finding her standing in the open door's frame.

"Oh, right. Just you."

Damon picked himself up, scowling at the grinning woman.

"Don't you have your own house to get to ?"

"Aren't you a fully grown man sneaking into his parent's house at half four ? By the way, your mum and dad aren't back intill eight."

He gave a hum in reply, moving to the livingroom to sit down. His bag was thrown on the couch and he soon followed. It took Damon a minute before he looked around the room in confusion.

"It's tidy."

He gave y/n a bizzare look.

She followed his actions and flopped onto the same couch, falling into his side whilst he threw an arm over her shoulders.

"Pity, s'always fun to see Jess in a panic."

Y/n smacked his chest, a contrast from her other action where she nudged her head into the partition between his shoulder and neck.

"Don't be mean Albarn."

" 'm not being mean."

There was a wave of comfortable silence, the pair relaxing into each other as y/n's smudged eyelinered eyes fluttered shut. The moment ceased when she felt a callus finger drift over her cheek, waking her up a bit.

She was still half asleep and had completely forgotten she needed to change out of her clinging dress.

"You okay ? You're looking a bit peaky."

"Just tired."

Damon gave a laugh, he always loved when she was tired, her accent always came out thick.

One of the things he loved about her, her peculiar accent. Before she moved a few doors down four years ago, he'd never noticed how cute a manchester accent can be. She'd quickly faided it after living in Whitechappel for a year so he barely got to hear it, but when she was tired it always reappeared.

Y/n gave a disgruntled groan when she felt the body beside her move and ended up falling into the arm of the couch.

"Come on, bed."

She refused to move, throwing her legs up onto the rear of the seat and curling up into a ball, drifting off. Before she knew it, she was in Damon's arms and being carried up the stairs, having been dropped onto the floor for a moment as the man wrestled with the baby gate.

1994

They sat together again, y/n crushed against Damon's side as she finished tidying up from another of Jessica Albarn's house parties.

"Coping 's my favourate still."

Their indepth, no out of limit chats at three in the morning. They happened for often than they used to, even though Damon was away more often and y/n was struggling with the life of an ordinary adult in England.

"Really ?"

She gave a hum at his question, turning so she was able to look in his eyes whilst they spoke. Damon dropped his hands so they relaxed around her hips and she opened her mouth to reply.

"It's lyrics are real, they're not a stor-"

The conversation was cut off by the front door opening.

Hazel appeared in the livingroom soon after and immediatly caught sight of the two mid-twenty year olds looking like deers caught in headlights.

Y/n pulled up her pyjama top which was dropping down and Damon slowly retracted his hand from it's resting spot of y/n's hip.

"Oh."

Before she could further her shock, Keith appeared in the doorframe, soon growing an equally as shocked expression.

His son with his daughter's best friend.

His son with the northen girl from down the road. Not that he had anything against y/n being from the North, but he wouldn't be overly-estatic if she were to date Damon.

"Oh."

"Hi."

"Urm, hello darling,"

Hazel tryed to disguise the shock she was dealing with at the moment,

"Where's Jess ?"

"Oh, she's upstairs. She got tired after the third movie."

"Oh, okay."

"Shouldn't you two be sleeping ?"

At Keith's question, Damon gave a scoff. Sometimes they forgot he was twenty six. Plus, he only got to visit home every few weeks, why would he spend the time sleeping.

"Yeah whatever. Come on tweedle dumb."

Damon found himself dragging the half asleep y/n up the stairs, her polka dot pyjama bottoms straping against the carpet as she stumbled behind him.

The next morning, well afternoon, y/n found herself doing a walk of shame down the road to her house. Three doors to pass and a handfull of parenys giving her dirty looks as they walked their children home from school and crossed paths with the pyjama clad twenty five year old who was walking barefoot.

As she clicked open the ocean blue painted front door, she found two pairs of unfamiliar shoes on the white carpet, next to her little brother's baby sized reeboks.

"Dad ! Sarah! I'm home."

Her shouts dragged out in a questioing tone and face was the perfect picture of utter confusion but her question was answered immediatly once she entered the living room.

Upon stepping past the silver line which sat awkwardly on the floor of the doorframe, y/n found two faces sat on the double couch. Two face which she hadn't seen in five or six years.

She let out a scream before running over to them, falling over the brothers as she tryed to hug them both. Y/n let go and Noel shifted over so she could sit between them.

"You didn't tell me they where coming !"

The woman scowled at her dad who was sat in the armchair across the room with a grin plastered on his face.

"If i'd of known, I could've delayed Jess' party last night so you can meet all me mates."

"Nice pyjamas by the way."

Y/n elbowed Liam after his comment causing the younger man to break out into laughter and Noel to grow a smile.

"Well they already-"

Y/n shot a discrete glare to her dad as he began to speak. Everyone knew you didn't bring Oasis and Blur up to the other band's members. You especially don't let on to the Gallagher brothers that the lead singer of Blur lives a few houses down from where they're sat.

"They're already familiar with what you look like in pyjamas, could barely ever get you home when we lived in Burnage."

He turned to look at Sarah after his juttery cover up,

"The boys lived on the same street and I think the sleepovers where endless."

"You cut me off me sleepover extravaganzers when I was fourteen."

Y/n rolled her eyes, complaining.

After about an hour of random conversation, catching up on each others lives since y/n left the estate and on the Burnage gossip, Sarah had to leave to go and do her shift at the local hospital and y/n's dad had to leave to go and visit her step-grandparents. Mikey, y/n's little brother, was sat on Liam's lap whilst the toddler attacked a small tub of playdoh. They had to look after him seeing how he couldn't go to work with his mum and his had a fear of his grandparent's boxer dog, understandable seeing how it bit him when he was one.

The kid had attatched himself to Liam after loosing his awkward shyness aroud the stangers who had suddenly appeared at his house. Y/n had her suspicions of it being because the twenty two year old was wearing a similar top to him.

When the parents left, y/n put a Billy Joel cd on as background music, much to Liam's distates.

"Y'know, down south's drove you soft y/n/n."

She rolled her eyes at him, Noel relaxing and throwing an arm over the girl's shoulder.

"Why, cause I ain't nickin' bikes from corner shops with yeh."

"Y'know what I mean."

"Drop it Liam."

Noel sent a glare over y/n's shoulder from his position relaxed against the couch back.

"Just saying."

Liam threw his hands up in defence, Mikey joining the conversation with a pouting lip.

"Y/n. I'm hungry !"

Her eyes flickered over to a clock which was dustily sat on the fireplace's white mantlepiece.

It made sence, it was three in the afternoon and he hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast seeing how the brothers turned up just before lunch, so she'd been told.

"Y' want beans an' toast ?"

A grin littered the three year old's face as he nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion, jumping off Liam's knee and dragging the man to follow his sister, who was heading in the direction of the kitchen. Noel followed after his brother, feeling awkward staying by himself.

The y/l/n's kitchen and dining room where connected so whilst y/n dashed in and out of kitchen cupboards to get the things needed for Mikey, Liam was dragged to sit at the six-seater table. Noel sauntered in behind his brother and leant against the counter, watching his friend quickly cook up the fine british cuisine for her little brother.

Mikey had started on his interigation question to Liam. He had finally come out of his shell and y/n was cringing at every mouth he spoke, begging the toaster to hurry up so she could find something to shut him up.

"So, how do you know y/n ?"

"Well, we grew up together in Manchester."

"Manchester."

Mikey mimicked Liam's accent before laughing.

"I've been to Manchester before."

"Have you ?"

"Yeah. My daddy took me to go and watch City against Liverpool."

The Gallagher boys gave grins at the mention on their football team, but before either could strike up conversation, Mikey was onto his next question.

"Are you dating my sister ?"

Y/n nearly choked on Mikey's question, which was directed at Noel. Said manucunian had a uncomfortable expression on his face when Liam shifted to look at their reactions.

Y/n pratically threw the plate down infront of the toddler, handing him a set of green plastic cultery.

"Why don't you eat your food before it goes cold."

Mikey gave a nod and started eating the heinz beans in the center of his plate. The silence unfortunatly didn't last long.

"Because you where hugging before, and you had your arm over her."

"We're just friends."

Liam let out a snort, quickly apologising insencerly with laughter taking over him.

Soon y/n had re-distracted her brother with food and playdoh, giving her time to converse with her friends.

"Just friends ?!"

That was the first scoff off of Liam when Mikey had ran out of the room to go and grab one of his colouring books and felt tips.

"Couldn't prize youse two off of each other."

"Aight, well that where when we were kids Liam."

The conversation was immediatly ended when a scream was heard front near the front door.

In a panic, y/n ran towards where it sounded like Mikey was, she heard two sets of feet behind her as she dashed through the doorways.

He heart faltered in it's heavy pounding when she found the blonde vocalist who lived down the road in the doorway of the front door. Mikey was up in his arms, dramatically gesturing about something or the other.

Y/n assumed that the Gallagher brothers hadn't appeared behind her yet seeing how an outrage had occured.

"Dames ? Urm, what are you doing here ?"

The older man gave her a smile before pointing to the pair of bright white reeboks.

"Got them cleaned for you after last night."

She returned the smile, pulling him in for a quick hug and giving him a quick kiss whilst taking Mikey out of his arms and discretely opening the door. Her current task was to get rid of Damon before Liam and Noel saw or heard him, which she was surprised hadn't happen yet.

"Well i'll see yeh later Dames."

Before Damon could reply, the confused twenty six year old was push out onto the other side of the now closed, dark blue door.

Mikey had disappeared back into the livingroom when y/n turned back around. Noel was slouched against the doorframe, she looked to him, giving a soft smile to him.

Before she knew it, y/n was hugging Noel in a fashion which would suggest that they'd never lost contact.

"I'm realy sorry that I miss you leaving. Y'know that right ?"

The woman pulled herself against him more, resting her head on his shoulder whilst her arms where hidden by his black jacket he kept on at all times

Her responce was a hum before he let her go, turning her to face him.

"Look, the whole reason I came, other than feeling band 'cause i'm an arse who left y'. Look, we're goin' to the Brits next month and I know it's short notice, but I also know that you've always wanted t' go. So wanna go with us ?"

#90s #oasis #blur #fem!reader #damon albarn #damon albarn x fem!reader #damon albarn x reader #blur x reader #noel gallagher x fem!reader #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher #platonic!liam gallagher x fem!reader #oasis x reader #oasis x fem!reader #blur x fem!reader

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Thursday 11 [13] August 1840

6 ¼

9 ½

awaked last night between 1 and 2 cats at my cheese and children squalling enough to distract the old gentleman himself A- awoke me before 6 anxious to be off – she ordered the horses – she out of sorts – terrible – did a good job so many women and people knew not whom to give to – gave nothing – the cottages so hid amid the trees and vines and 8ft. high maize hardly visible except when close upon them – off at 6 50/.. – the children especially and the men and women look pale and yellow and unealthy in this moist hot bottom – at 7 35/.. Engour [Enguri] fine river nearish (left) ascend highish (left bank) above it and go upwards along its broad bouldery bedded island streamy course – for over thro’ lanes of alder and hazel every now and then in our eyes – bits of deep mud every now and then at 8 ¼ at the village (large) of Dvjari i.e. orchards vine-covered trees alders pyrus diospyrus [diospyros] etc. (the woods chiefly beech and next in quantity oak) – at 8 20/.. close upon the Engour [Enguri] – then ascend again on higher ground always in the village of Dvjari no houses to be seen – all hid – fine river running downwards amid lower green wooded rounded beautiful hills, and upwards amid higher such hills – beautiful valley at 8 55/.. at the large beautiful squares green of the village in the style of Zugdidi – with several picturesque goodish galleried sacles scattered around – alight at one of them (empty)) at 9 to breakfast – the white Krepost castle on wooded ridge of hill almost hid among the wood close over the river (left bank) – wrote so far till now 11 10/.. and R very nearly 21° - breakfast from 11 ¼ to 12 50/.. including a tolerably comfortable wash inside the sacle – off at 1 ¾ - at 2 50/.. out of our narrow lanes thro’ tall brackens in the bottom and I passed thro’ wood (beech and Spanish Chesnut and alder and walnut) and steepish, not good ascent and then fine view over rich extensive wooded plain and the old town of prince Āppăkīdzi at the village of Satchīnă close (left) – stop 5 minutes under enormous lime tree for the men to get water – off again from Satchina at 2 35/.. steepish bad descent down wood again from here – then up the hill and down and forded little stream and 2 or 3 more cottages at 3 ½ still the village of Satchina – and Indian corn 9 or 10ft. high – a village (Sapêlĭ) is a little district – at 3 35/.. ford good broadish stream, the Irīseērăh – and at 3 42/.. ford the Isleēăh an equally good stream – beautiful little green comby valleys among the rounded wooded hills, and here and there houses and fields on the lower hills – at 3 47/.. ford the isleēăh again – several more scattered cottages still the same village of Satchīnă old castle of Djĕgăli (princes Mantchar Dadiar) he lives at some other village castle deserted and empty? beautiful groups of valleys and rounded hills – Mingrelia very beautiful and fine race of men – e.g. our David and saw others whom we have seen – all our 3 men have left us to seek somebody or something – Adam came back in ½ hour – A- had had an egg beaten up, and I had the things off my horse and done up my mackintosh – David does not know the road – Get a man to go with us to the village – he now says it is 6 (instead of 3) hours from here to and 6 days from here to Muri – terrible – an hour lost here – off to the village Djkali at 6 5/.. and arrived at 6 ¾ - 2 sacles – arrange ourselves in the Indian corn barn (a little wicker place perhaps 4 ½ x 3 yards) – spread our burcas on straw and now

8 25/.. I have just [written] in it the last 19 lines – high hills north and within ridges of wooded hill rising every now and then into little wooded conical summits – the sides of the hill furrowed and little conical summits on the ridges of the sides – tea etc. now at 8 25/.. – 1 crooglee – lay down at 9 ½

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supercowgirl04 · 2 years

Photo

I love @evaroze ‘s oc Hazel DeForest and had to make her into a horse

#gravity falls #gravityfalls #disney #gravity falls art #gravity falls oc #original character #not my oc #gravity falls ford #ford pines #stanford pines #hazel deforest #fordzel #oc x canon #horse #horse art #horse au #old people ship #evaroze

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the-deeds-to-shibden · 2 years

Text

Monday 27 July 1840

[up at] 4 35/..

[to bed at] 12

[written on] Wednesday 29 July fine morning – had had cold boiled rice and quite ready at 6 at which hour Reaumur 12 1/2° – Off from Oni at 6 50/.. – beautiful morning – above an hour in getting to 3 towered castle of Veltettskikhé Dubois ii. 394 – at 9 13/.. pass over new wood bridge over the Rion (to right bank) the 3 trees (on which the cross planks are laid) carry 12 yards hollow and then there are at least 56 yards of log buttress at each end of the bridge therefore the river is 24 yards wide here at least, tho’ they have taken advantage of an island 50 or 60 yards broad (the river very islandy) which the bridge lands upon, and we forded the broadish shallow stream on the other side – at 10, Sori with 2 ruined square towers and little mills – picturesque scattered village – at 10 35/.. enter narrow but richly wooded gorge, (Dubois’s 2nd ecluse 1 verst long volume ii. 393) and out of it in 24 minutes – sun and hot but fine air just now, and the valley opens out gradually – Grashoppers’ noise loud and like that of rather distant guinea fowl – at 11 1/4 pass under the picturesque high almost inaccessible rock-seated castle – 3 towers (2 round and 1 square) and part of old overhanging gallery still remaining over 1 of the round towers – at the wood bridge over the little rapid Lokouni (Dubois ii. 390) –

alighted at the bridge (Ann went forwards with the people and horses to the church) and took Adam and off to the castle at 11 25/.. – no road – not even a clear path of any kind – all grown up – thick wood all round except a little clear arable land East and rather Southeast belonging to a little cottage farm below (bridge over Lokoumi west side) – pushed our way thro’ the young wood (much oak and hazel) last climbed the hot, bare, dark-coloured rock (no trace of road or former approach) and then climbed 8 or 9 feet of old wall up to the little entrance door (East side) – another such door same side, nearer South end, but the wall rather higher and worse to climb – had the rock, and wall-stone been a little hotter, it would have been impossible to touch them with the naked hand – got in at 12 – not even goats here – saw no living animal not even a lizard – the court small as usual and encumbered with rubbish and tall rank vegetation and brambles – almost impossible to stir – the round tower north west corner (as it appeared from below) was the little church 5 x 4 yards long and broad in all except a little narrow vaulted now dark aisle on each side; and the overhanging gallery was a plank square tower made up with rubbish said Adam but no! more probably a living room or house over the church and close up against the square tower at northeast corner – then a little covered well then the square tower about middle west side, about 4 yards square or rather more? full of great koupchines buried up to the neck or above in ground floor – no communication from this room to the room above – and could not get up

– then there was another square tower forming the South end of the castle something like the diagram as to irregular shape occupying the whole summit of the jet of rock that finely commands the valley –

a square tower filled up with rubbish

b church

c square tower with koupchines

d South end square tower

dot about the place of the well –

this South end tower also about 4 yards square – thought at 1st it might have been a stable – no! a living room – no communication with the rooms above – the door too high – could not get up – not much living or stirring room in these castles – all equally ruined by the Russians – about 10 minutes there and at the church at 12 40/.. – the horses turned to graze in the stubble – Ann sitting

in the Ŏtāch wooden gallery

Hê-ĭ-vān open part of large stone house as at Satchekhére and Oni

and the servants there asleep – a wood house – comfortable sâcle, but far from so good as the house at Tzessi – much heated – Ann went off to sketch – I lay down and slept till 2 – dinner from 2 1/4 to 3 35/.. – dawdled over it – Ann had 2 eggs beaten up with Djirootchy monastery red wine and Lavache, and I had one hard boiled cold egg a little cheese and a cucumber and a little Eristaf white wine with water from the milky Rion always good tasted Prince Yorghi Kaidza’s son (when they called yesterday) from Khotévi gave us 2 cucumbers – neat square quite plain exterior except a cross or two saw the interior of the church – 12 yards from west door to iconostase and suppose behind iconostase 5 + 12 = 17 yards long – and about 11 1/2 yards broad – 2 aisles of 1 arcade to dome 12 windows, 1 arcade against underdome and 1 arcade behind iconostase, finished in apse inside and square outside the 2 small tall circular niches, east end, are mere grooves – merely a souvenir of the niches at Koutaïs and in the east ends of other Georgian churches – Ann sketched the interior – west end of each aisle lighted by one window

and west end of nave, and north and South end of each transept lighted by 3 little windows

– foundation of church 1753 – (Dubois ii. 392) – went into the little garden and gathered kindzi (no name for it in Russian but the Georgian word kindzi, coriander[)] and ukrop, Georgian kām-măh, fennel, which I had seen tied up in little parcels in the house and hung up to dry –

off from Baragone church at 4 25/.. – at the gorge (ecluse. Dubois ii. 388) in 1/2 hour – alighted at the source about mid way – 4 little rills – all alike – before I took the water for fresh – this time thought it very agreeably tasted and drank freely – proof it is very slightly sulphurous – the very slight taste I could discover was as much chalybeate as sulphurous? off from the bridge at 5 1/4 did not cross it – kept on the right bank of the river (Rion) very fine rich valley 1/2 yellow with corn or stubble – the corn gathered, or in cutting or gathering or in little sheaves perched up (some on poles as in Norway?) or ripe – a little young green corn not near in ear – the people housing hay as we went and returned from Satchikhéri – at 5 35/.. stopt at isolated shop – a few little things to sell printed calico handkerchief and blue pieces (shirt pieces) of calico – the man a a /Anne’s repetition/ little dyer – just wrapped up a piece or two in undyed calico, and put them into a little press i.e. between 2 boards and a great stone on the top in his little dye-house – the kelossan for here we came for a guide – a youth who knew the way to the village of Sardmêli /Sadmeli/ (Dubois ii. 426)

off again at 5 55/.. fine rich valley – pass under Sardmêli, high (right) above us, pretty picturesque little scattered hamlet-like group of houses, among trees, and hardly seen, and at 6 25/.. beginning to calculate that it was 3 hours to Kouantchegkara /Khvanchkara/ (prince Léon Pépiani Dubois ii. 426) and we had better sleep chez le mourave at Sardmêli Ann impatient – wished to go forwards – said we lost so much time in stopping that I gave the order for Kouantchegkara telling Ann however that it was 3 hours off and I doubted very much that we [were] right to risk it – she did not give any sign of caring for it, so on we went – Dubois says many villages left bank but no villages between Sardmêli and Kouantchegkara (right bank Rion) (ii. 426) – apparently as many villages, little picturesque tree-embosomed groups of cottages, on this side as the other (none in the bottom on either side all along the mountainside, generally about midway) but all these little groups on this side form the one large village or district called Sardmêli – instead of turning up (right) to Sardmêli kept down in the bottom (the corn being all gathered hereabouts) leaving the high road much above us right, and went along the fields and kept nearly to the river for nearness’s sake – at 6 3/4, on the other side Rion, (left) in the woods towards bottom (no pine) little narrow rounded ridge-jet, like a wall, of Calcaire coped with porphyre pyroxénique (dark coloured stone) very striking and curious – fine, beautiful corny and Indian corny crassy, viny, rich, wooded and wood-girt valley well-peopled – left bank Rioni, Ratcha – right bank, Sardmêli – beautiful ride – what a pity to do 1/2 in the dark! at 8 as we gradually got high on the mountainside the river beautifully winding deep below it was too dusk to see anything clearly – soon afterwards what with night and narrow lanes thro’ thick woods we groped in the dark – even Ann asked what I should do – our guide did not know the way – she had wanted to send the Cossack forwards before 8 – I merely said (not knowing then the ignorance of our guide) that we could not be left without guide or without Adam, and what could the Cossack do? – we could not see each other 1/2 dozen yards off – Ann was so impatient one time for me to get on, I before called every now and then to know she was close behind me, that I then supposed her at my heels and she (before the Cossack and George) lost us (not in reality far off) and George had to seek us out –

arrived at 9 35/.. lights and a comfortable looking well galleried wood house and large open court – I rode up to the lights to see the hour – some ladies asked us in – we declined till our papier ouvert had been examined and our quartiers regularly assigned – we were taken to a large sacle (1 room as at Outséré) at 9 3/4 across the court 1 divan carpeted (for Ann) and long low Georgian narrow table for me, and they brought a higher (European – rickety) table and eggs and cucumbers and fine filberts and bread and wine and good water for supper, very sorry we were too late for better fare – very civil – we had 2 young men – princes Pépiani nephews of prince Léon – no milk to be had at that hour – ate 2 of the 4 cucumbers, and some filberts, large and excellent from their garden – of the nuts in the woods and hedges the kernels hardly formed – as yet a little kernelly string, like the 1st push at vegetation with a bean – a nothing to eat – supper at 11 to 11 50/.. – took off my pelisse and boots and lay down at 12 – very fine day –

Anne’s marginal notes:

Leave Oni.

Baragone. /Barakoni/

Mindastsikhé forteresse de la necessité Dubois ii. 390.

Otach

Hêivah

Sardmêli.

Kouantchgkara capital of Pépianoff.

Kouantchegkara.

WYAS pages: SH:7/ML/E/24/0165

#anne lister #ann walker #anne lister code breaker #gentleman jack #diary1840unannotated #russianempire1840 #georgia1840

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