#Miss Winston's Reply

[2knightt]

5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

[quizzicalwriter]

dally Winston x reader smut

Reader is a lightweight and gets too drunk at a party and her friends drop her off at dallys but she is rllly horny

Heaven

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve never handled your liquor well, good thing you have Dallas there to deal with your drunken stupors.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Tipsy sex (consensual!), fingering, slight degradation and rough themes.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 2.6k

It was supposed to be a small get-together. That’s what your friends had assured you when you’d all walked the near-mile trek to a random guy's house. Surprise, surprise - it was not small. Cars lined the street outside the multi-level estate, music loud enough to be heard the street over. Your friends didn’t seem to sense your apprehension, either that or they simply didn’t care, all of them giggling and pulling you in after them.

You’d partied, sure, but this was way out of your realm of comfort. People you didn’t recognize flooded the house, the air thick with the scent of marijuana and an absurd combination of cologne and perfume. Usually, whenever you partied you’d be with one of the guys, always with Dallas by your side at the minimum - but tonight it was just you and your friends.

“C’mon!” Shouted one of your friends, her hand firm on your wrist as she tugged you toward the kitchen where a man you didn’t recognize poured a clear liquor into a plethora of solo cups. Your friends scrambled for cups, one of them handing you one, all of you clanking the plastic together before tossing it back.

Vodka, that was vodka. You could feel the burn encompass your throat as you choked down nearly four mouthfuls, your stomach wordlessly cursing you to hell and back for even attempting to drink on an empty stomach. You’d never been known for smart decisions when it came to alcohol, it was something that bonded you with the guys and irritated Dallas to no end whenever he’d have to hold your hair back after hours.

“Fuck-“ You coughed out through a laugh, slamming the now empty plastic cup down on the counter, the motion soon followed by your friends. It would be the first of many drinks if any of you had a say, but in all honesty, you didn’t feel comfortable getting flat-out drunk without Dallas by your side. You trusted your friends more than words could express, but Dallas was like your own guard dog, it’d have been stupid for you to test fate on the one night he wasn’t by your side.

Your closest friend of the group, Connie, looped her arm around yours, pulling you toward the center of the living room where everyone seemed to be dancing to the music that blared overhead - or attempting to, anyhow. You both danced together, laughing loudly at those around you who were too inebriated to walk away from the massive crowd. It wasn’t long until you felt the liquor you’d chugged earlier working its way through your system, glossing your vision over and slurring your words together.

Time went muddy as you danced, the liquor doing its job ensuring your inability to formulate coherent thoughts or hold a conversation that didn’t end in bounds of laughter. The only thing you hadn’t accounted for was your tipsy mind realizing you didn’t have Dallas by your side, and you didn’t like that in the slightest.

It was nearly three in the morning when Connie pulled you out onto the front porch of the house, striking up a match to light the cigarette she claimed she desperately needed after dancing for hours. You moved to sit on the front steps, sighing loudly as you looked out to the lawn, mind convinced if you thought of him hard enough he’d appear.

“I miss Dal.” You whined, looking back to Connie who only laughed, taking a lengthy drag off her cigarette before moving to sit beside you, arm wrapping tight around your middle as she rested her head against yours.

“I’ll take you to his in a bit, just let me finish my cigarette.” She replied, flicking off built-up ash from the end of her cigarette. “I’m going to tell him that you haven’t stopped talking about him for two hours, by the way. You’re lucky you’re my best friend, I’d have put tape over your mouth earlier if you weren’t.”

You leaned against her side, silently thankful that you hadn’t done more shots alongside your other friends and had instead chosen to dance with Connie until your feet were sore. The scent of her perfume calmed you, the same one she’d worn for years, it reminded you of your early teenage years and how the two of you would get into countless amounts of trouble together.

“Ready?” You asked after a few minutes, having passed the time by peeling chipped paint from a nearby banister. Your question brought another scoffed-out laugh from Connie, who simply motioned to her half-smoked cigarette, but as soon as she saw you pout she rolled her eyes and moved to her feet. You moved beside her, a giddy smile on your face that made her irritated facade crack, knowing she couldn’t stay frustrated with you for too long.

“He lives-“ You started, quickly being interrupted by Connie as she covered your mouth with her free hand. “I know where he lives, dammit.”

You chuckled into her hand, pushing it away as you two continued down the sidewalk and toward Buck’s bar. With each step, the sound of the party grew fainter, until all that surrounded you was the sound of nearby crickets and the train yard. You’d taken up kicking a rock, whenever it’d steer too close to the road Connie would kick it back.

The walk had helped you to sober up, the cold air causing goosebumps to cover every inch of exposed skin. You’d’ve given up on the trek twenty minutes ago if you weren’t so determined to see Dallas, your fingers fumbling with his necklace that hung snugly around your neck, occasionally placing the cold silver against your lips.

Buck’s place was packed, as it usually was on a Saturday night. Connie begrudgingly helped you through the hoard of cars, cursing under her breath whenever you’d tumble over your own two feet and inevitably slam into the side of some beat-up pickup truck. As soon as you two entered the bar Buck looked over to you, laughing to himself before motioning toward the back staircase.

Connie’s arm looped around your middle, all but holding you up as you made your way upstairs. On the walk there you thought you’d sobered up completely, but the stairs slapped that confidence right out of your mind. If you hadn’t had her holding you up you probably would’ve passed out on a couch downstairs, but she helped you to the best of her abilities.

You could tell Dallas wasn’t awake, the lights were off and the door was shut tight. Whatever peace he’d had while sleeping was abruptly snatched from him when Connie kicked the door open, causing the man to nearly jump out of his skin as he looked to the door.

“Delivery.” Connie stated, nodding her head to you as you smiled over at Dallas, waving like a child who’d seen a cute cat on the street.

“Hi, Dal.”

Dallas looked to Connie, aggravation written clear across his face as he moved up from his bed, walking over to you two before scooping you up.

“Couldn’t have knocked?” He asked over his shoulder, earning him a snorted-out laugh from Connie who’d already begun making her departure. “You wouldn’t have answered.”

He couldn’t argue with that, instead giving Connie a goodbye under his breath as he helped you into his bed. You were being incredibly touchy during the whole ordeal, hands moving to cup his jaw, to splay against his chest, before somehow weaving them underneath his shirt and against his abdomen.

“Quit.” He grumbled, pushing the bedsheets down as he began taking off your shoes. But, as always, you didn’t listen. You kicked your shoes off, narrowly missing his knee in the process, causing him to glare up at you. Although he couldn’t stay mad at you, not with you flopping back onto his bed and lifting your hips to shrug off your jeans, kicking the fabric to the floor along with your underwear.

“Doll-“ He started, averting his gaze to the nearby window as you peeled your shirt off. He took in a shuddering breath, hands fumbling with the fabric of his boxers as you moved over to him, staring up at him through your eyelashes like a siren amidst a bay of water.

“What?” You cooed, one hand smoothing down between his thighs as the other held you upright on the bed, a coy smirk upon your lips. “Missed you all night.”

He cleared his throat, eyes fluttering as your hand made contact with his cock. Even while tipsy, you still knew how to touch him. You brushed your fingers along his shaft, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited for his reply.

“You’re drunk.” He responded, gently pushing your hand away as he looked over at you, moving forward only to press a kiss to your forehead. He moved from the bed, grabbing your legs to push them underneath the covers, moving to lay beside you after.

You pouted, clearly not happy about not getting your way, so you turned over to face him. He immediately sensed your rebellious attitude, his brows furrowing together as he looked down at you, wordlessly scolding you.

It didn’t work.

Your hand wove down his front, resting over his hardening cock as you kissed along his throat, humming against his skin. Sure, you were tipsy, but you knew what you were doing and you damn sure knew what you wanted. Dallas groaned, head falling back against his pillow as his hips pressed up to meet your touch, cock twitching against your palm.

“Want you-“ You murmured against his skin, nipping against his pulse point, causing him to whine as his hips twitched. You smiled to yourself, slinking your hand into his boxers, gently curling your hand around his cock. You could feel his precum dripping down his shaft, coating your fingers as you slowly pumped him.

Any resolve he’d had faded the moment your thumb swiped across his tip. With a quiet groan of your name, he moved over you, lips finding yours in a heated kiss as his free hand moved between your thighs, fingers finding home against your soaked cunt. You kissed him back, savoring the faint taste of tobacco on his tongue as he sunk his middle and ring finger into you, plunging the digits in and out as he sucked at your bottom lip.

“Dal-“ You whined, brows screwing together as your cunt squeezed around his fingers, pulling a groan from deep within his chest as his eyes focused on yours. “Need you inside of me.”

He swore under his breath, almost toppling over you to push himself upright as he all but tore his shirt off. You spread your legs before him as he pushed his boxers down, kicking the fabric to the floor before positioning himself between your legs.

His hands smoothed up the underside of your thighs, coming to rest against the back of your knees as he shifted himself closer to you. You looked up at him, clenching around nothing as he pressed your knees to your chest, his free hand moving to grab his cock. The position was exposing, leaving you spread and on display for him, something he couldn’t help but admire with a satisfied grin on his face.

“You’re dripping.” He murmured, moving his hand from himself to trail his index finger between your slick folds, causing your hips to twitch. You watched with bated breath as he brought his finger to his lips, gaze meeting yours as he sucked the digit clean. A groan reverberated in his chest as your saccharine taste coated his tongue, leaving him craving you in a manner so carnal it felt like a sin.

“I’d make you cum on my tongue-“ He drawled out, words sighed halfway as his hand grasped the base of his cock, slapping his tip against your clit. “But you were so needy. So desperate.”

Your lips parted in protest, the words cut off by a sharp moan as he slipped his tip between your folds, pushing into your soaked cunt with a harsh thrust of his hips. You felt as though you were being split apart, his girth dragging along your walls in a way that left you grasping at his forearms for mercy he wouldn’t grant.

“Wanted this-“ He grunted, eyes focused on your flushed face as he fucked you, only adjusting himself a fraction to circle your clit with his thumb. His cock pounded into you, the lewd, slick sound of your cum coating him with each thrust echoing throughout the room. “So fuckin’ tight.”

You could only manage a strangled-off moan in reply, cunt squeezing around his cock with his relentless pace. Every movement forced air from your lungs, leaving you breathless and dizzy, mind reeling from his thumb expertly circling your clit as you tried to focus on the way Dallas stared down at you, grunting out words of praise intermingled with degradation.

“Drunk on my cock?” He asked through a laugh, loving how fucked-out you looked. Your appearance was flushed, hair plastered to your forehead, lips parted as drawn-out moans fell from your lips. He nodded, answering for you with a hissed out, “Yeah, yeah you are.”

“I-“ You whined, nodding as you babbled. “I am.”

Each word was interrupted by a short gasp, a desperate attempt to fill your lungs as he pressed himself down onto you, practically folding you in half. The closer he got, the deeper he felt. You could only whimper, feeling your cum dripping down your inner thighs and onto your ass, surely wetting the sheets beneath you.

You could feel your orgasm building in your stomach, your eyes conveying the feeling in a way words never could. He watched you, his thumb continuing to circle your clit as he fucked you. Every roll of his hips brought you closer and left your thighs tightening as his tip brushed against your cervix. You gave yourself over to the feeling with a broken cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as your cunt spasmed around his cock.

“Good-“ He grunted, hardly able to finish his sentence as he fucked you through your orgasm, relishing in the feeling of your cunt twitching around his cock, coaxing him deeper inside of you. His hand moved to your waist, grasp so tight it’d surely left bruises in its wake. You watched on in oversensitivity-fueled abandon as he chased his release. “So fuckin’ good.”

His chest heaved as he pulled out of you, short groans leaving him in droves as he fucked his fist, cum spilling over his knuckles and onto your lower stomach. From his furrowed-together brows to the way his cock twitched in his hands, you couldn’t help but clench around nothing at the sight.

“Fuck-“ He panted out, bending over the edge of the bed to grab his discarded shirt, wiping his hand clean before shifting to wipe your lower stomach. “You alright?”

You nodded in response as he moved to lay beside you, arm encircling your waist. You’d both need a shower in the morning, and a fresh change of clothes, but you’d deal with that later.

“Stop goin’ to parties without me, doll.” He murmured against the shell of your ear, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Or at least tell me when you’re goin’, pain in the ass.”

His words pulled a laugh from you, his protective nature shining through even in the afterglow of sex. Knowing he was being genuine, despite his crude nature, you replied with a quiet, “Alright, Dal.”

“Thank you.” He huffed. “Now go to bed, drunkard.”

A/N: Whoever requested this, I am so sorry for making you wait so long! I promise I’m getting to all of my requests, sometimes they just take a bit - I swear I haven’t forgotten or abandoned any! I hope this made up for the wait, thank you guys again for the support you’ve shown me and my work - I appreciate you guys so so much!! As always, you can find my work over on my AO3 under the username, “Unscriptural.” Thanks again!!

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭

↳ warning: supernatural elements

↳ notes: requested by anonymous. was going to be headcanons but ended up turning into a one shot. enjoy

↳ song: ghostbusters—ray parker jr.

masterlist | commisions | carrd

This really wasn't supposed to happen.

It was supposed to be a simple job. One of the easier ones you all had gotten hired to do all month. That's what Ray had said to you as you zipped up the front of your uniform in the firehouse, and you believed him.

A customer had called in last week, sounding out of breath as they complained of a room in their house that always felt cold when they walked into it. You could practically smell the incense through the phone, and your suspicions were confirmed when you later stepped into their house.

After Peter had sarcastically made sure it wasn't just a problem with their AC unit, Janine penciled them in for an inspection a few days later, and that was that. You and the rest of the Ghostbusters went to the nearby Chinese restaurant that night and forgot all about it.

Now, you were hiding behind an overturned table as an apparition whizzed over your heads, shrieking in a language none of you could decipher.

"I thought you said this was a class one spook!" You shouted at Egon as he fumbled with a trap nearby. He shot you an irritated look through the rims of his glasses, as if to say 'what am I supposed to do', before going back to tinkering with the trap in his hand.

"Someone's gotta get out there and distract it!" Peter yelled over the noise of plates being smashes. You winced, imagining that the client wouldn't be too happy to hear that their kitchen was ransacked during the procedure. If you could even call it a procedure.

"Ray! You're up!" Winston called from his place next to you, shoving his coworker out of the hiding spot just a little.

"No way! It was my turn last time!" Ray griped. As he said that, a stray fork flew by his head, nearly missing the side of his face as he yelped and ducked further under the tables cover.

"I'll do it." You volunteered whilst reaching for the proton pack at your back. You were sure that if you looked over at that moment, you'd see Ray sending you the most grateful look you'd ever seen.

The others waited for Egon to finish preparing the trap, Peter mostly yelling at him to hurry up, as you rose from your place on the tiled kitchen floor.

The ghost turned to look at you as you let out a wolf whistle. It's hair floated wildly around its head like a crown of thorns, and you heard one of the guys from behind you gulp with difficulty.

"Hey Casper!" You grinned with what you hoped was a considerable amount of bravado. "Why don't you don't you pick on someone your own size?"

You wouldn't remember falling onto your back after the ghost charged straight at you. Nor would you remember how it slimed down into a fine mist, slipping into your mouth with a hissing noise. Bruises covering your spine would leave the evidence of a fall later on, but that was the only sign that anything had happened.

The boys watched as your eyes rolled back to reveal a milky white gaze. Peter nearly dropped the nozzle to his proton pack as you began to levitate; your chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. For a minute, it reminded him of when Gozer had possessed Dana. Although, you were his friend, not fiancé, and wearing a jumpsuit instead of a dress.

"Uh guys?"

"I'm seeing it, Winston." Ray replied without taking his eyes off of you. Wind began to pick up in the house, blowing his hair to the side as he watched you with wide eyes.

"Egon!" Peter yelled over the noise. "The trap??"

"Done!" He finally announced. "Someone hold them down!" The scientist shouted, forehead beaded with sweat as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He stood up with shaking hands, nearly dropping the trap as he stepped around the table and towards you.

Ray and Winston both grabbed your arms and legs, pulling you down from your spot in the air with a considerable amount of force. Peter attempted to push you by your chest, but was headbutted by the ghost and sent flying backwards. You, or rather the ghost occupying you, made a sound between a cackle and a scream.

"I've never wanted to punch a ghost more than I do now." Peter groaned from the floor as he hauled himself back up. He'd have to get Dana to check him for a concussion later.

"I need a stream, Venkman!" Egon stepped away from the Muon trap as if it was a live bomb. "Ray, Winston, on our count let go of them and duck!"

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Winston said as he avoided yet another kick from your boot.

The sound of an engine powering up filled the room as Peter and Egon switched on their packs, directing the end of their nozzles at you. The two men glanced at each other nervously and Egon's foot hovered over the traps pedal anxiously. You just continued to flail.

"You sure this won't hurt them?!" Ray yelled. He brought his head back a significant amount as the ghost inside of you attempted to bite at him.

"No idea!" Egon fumbled. His glasses were nearly flying off of his face with the wind, but he pushed on. "Now, Peter!"

Ray and Winston made a dive for it as two multicolored streams encased you in a bright light. The spirit inside howled with discomfort, kicking its legs in an attempt to escape.

Without warning, Egon stepped on the trap, releasing a beam that shot into the air and struck the ceiling. He knew from experience that there would be a faint singe mark left on it later, but that was the least of anyone's concerns. The client would just have to deal with it.

Taking careful measure not to bump your body into any stray debris, they guided the spirit closer and closer to the trap until its form began to separate from yours. The horrible sucking noise it made nearly coerced Egon to drop his gun to cover his ears.

One moment, you were floating in the air, speaking tongues and way too close to a piece of dangerous machinery. The next, you were laying in a pile of broken china plates as your eyes rolled back into place.

"Hey. Hey, bud, come back to us." Peter said, slapping your cheek slightly to bring you back down to earth. He had been the first to drop to the ground next to you, lifting your head up to make sure nothing had scraped it in the fall.

Ray came next from his hiding spot behind a now splintered chair, then Winston's wide eyed form, and finally Egon holding a smoking trap.

"Vitals appear to be steady." Ray said. He pulled his fingers away from the spot on your neck he had been checking, looking at the rest of them. He sighed like a ten pound weight had been lifted off his chest.

"You worry too much Stanz." Peter said, jesting. But his usual playful tone was dampened, and he didn't look up until you groaned.

"Did anyone catch the number of that bus that ran me over?" You hissed, shielding your eyes from a nonexistent bright light.

Silence.

Winston broke out into laughter first, with the rest following suit. Egon smiled as Peter giggled, and Ray was practically rolling on the floor.

"Trauma response." Egon said between baritone chuckles, only able to get one word out at a time. "Surprised this is the first time we're having one."

"Do I even have to ask what happened?" You said while pushing yourself up on your forearms. Winston just shook his head at you, and slapped you on the back.

"We'll tell you back at the firehouse, kid." He said with a shake of his head. You frowned at the nickname, but eventually let a smile crack.

The five of you sat in each other presence for a little bit, letting the laughter die down as the mood came to a stop.

"So—" Peter cleared his throat.

"—who wants to be the one that talks to the client?"

You were left sitting on the floor as they all scrambled to get out, surrounded by broken glass.

"Assholes."

[algea]

soooo…

Lars Pinfield.

yeah he can be a massive prick and has said a few mean things to you in the past, but since you've been gone Lars has seemed to lighten up. That was, until you came back.

you always thought Lars was attractive, but you never truly were attractive until you came back after you graduated college. Winston let you hang around the lab to assist your dad in work, so you saw Lars almost everyday. That was, until you went off to college and got an internship with a company that worked with unusual deaths and phenomenons. That sent you away for about 6 years, but you always kept in touch with your father, Ray, Winston, and Phoebe. After 6 years, someone can really change. And that’s what you did. You matured and grew, creating a strong, independent individual. You halfway hoped didn’t expect that Lars was going to be there. You walked through the old aquarium’s hall, silently freaking out. You stood at the door, questioning whether you should actually enter the room.

“you going in or just gonna stand there like a statue?” You heard a girls voice ask. You turn to see a girl with white dreads standing behind you. “I’m just uh…I’m just indecisive.” You reply, giving a half smile.

“about what?” She asks.

“well, I haven’t been back in 6 years, so it’ll be weird for everyone.” You mutter, fidgeting nervously.

“I’ll walk in with you so it makes less of a scene, is that ok? I’m Lucky, by the way.” Lucky smiled.

“Y/N.” You replied back, shaking her hand. She swiped her keycard and the doors opened. Through the slight mist the doors emitted, you could make out the vastly changed lab. Lucky patted your shoulder and led the way. You first searched for your dad, whom you spotted in his office. You walked up to the window and looked through at him, waiting a few seconds before he recognized who you were. Peter rushed to the door and flung it opened, attacking you with a big bear hug. You laughed and hugged him back, a few tears slipping through your eyes.

“I’ve missed you so much dad. I wish I could’ve talked to you every single day.” You cried.

“I know. I mean who wouldn’t want to talk to me everyday, I'm just SO awesome." Peter replied. You scoffed and grinned. You pulled away from your dad and glanced around the room. After briefly scanning, your eyes settled on a man with blond hair, looking intently at a computer.

"Is that...?" You whisper to your dad, quietly motioning towards the man.

"Who? That nerd? Yeah, that's him." Peter confirmed, rolling his eyes slightly. You felt your cheeks heat up at the comment and a bashful smile ghosted your lips.

"Go talk to him." Peter said, giving you a wink and walking back into his office. You turned and combed your fingers through your hair, making sure it looked ok before you talked to him. You were nervous. So so nervous. You combed your hands through your hair a few times, making sure you looked fine. Finally, you started slowly walking towards him.

He was so engulfed in whatever he was doing, it was almost cute when he muttered to himself whatever he was calculating. You really didn't want to disturb him. You really just wanted to turn around and walk right out because you were so nervous as to how he would react.

"Oh, who are you? Why are you in here?" You heard him call. You frozen in place, heartbeat racing. You turned to him and said,

"Hey Lars.."

Lars' eyebrows knit together, lips parting in confusion.

"You really don't remember me? It's only been 6 years." You mutter, fidgeting with a button on your sleeve while looking down at the ground.

"Oh, my God. Is that you, Y/N?" Lars whispers. His blue eyes search your face, finding familiarities that he once saw before. He slowly stood, setting down the goggles he had in his hand. He made his way to stand in front of you, his frame towering down over you. He hesitantly reached up, the tips of his fingers brushing under your jaw.

"You got a lot less ugly." He stated. You sighed, dropping your head slightly.

"I don't mean that in a bad way at all." Lars quickly explained, tipping your head to look back up at him. This moment of softness was immediately replaced with insults as he slipped his hand to your neck and kissed you. You felt insulted because he didn't do that until now. Why, why didn't he do it until now? It was unfair how he had the ability to do it, but you felt stupid and weak because you couldn't ever tell him how you felt. But at that moment, you felt so insulted that you enjoyed it. It was perfect, even though you were probably being watched by the rest of the entire staff there, it was perfect.

"Yeah, well the universe doesn't revolve around you." You mutter, wrapping your hand softly around his wrist.

"I'd rather it not because then I'd have to deal with you all the time." Lars smiled, brushing his lips against yours softly one more time.

"Whatever, but you still owe me an apology for being so mean to me before." You snickered.

"Sorry, I don't hand out free apologies like that." He scoffed, sitting back down. You were ok with that because you had secretly forgiven him. In the background, Ray was sighing and handing Peter a $20. What could've been better? Busting ghosts by yourself, or busting ghosts with a hot nerd (I'd choose the latter)?

[jrob64]

Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story

For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.

Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 7754

ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN

Story begins under the cut

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”

Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.

Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.

After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.

She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.

The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.

Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.

It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.

Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.

Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.

She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.

‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.

Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.

She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”

“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.

“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.

“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”

“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.

“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”

Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”

“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”

His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.

Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”

“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.

“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”

“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”

David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”

“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”

Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”

David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.

“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”

“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”

Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.

David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”

The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”

“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”

“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.

He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.

“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.

“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.

Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”

As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.

As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”

“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.

“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.

Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.

“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”

He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”

David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”

“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”

Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.

“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”

“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”

“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.

While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”

Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”

“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”

She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.

“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”

“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”

“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.

“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”

“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”

“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”

“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”

“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.

Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”

Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”

“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.

Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.

Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.

“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.

Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.

Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.

  Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.

Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.

David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.

“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.

“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.

Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”

“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.

“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”

Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”

“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”

Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”

After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.

She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’

She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.

Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.

When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.

“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”

“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.

A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.

“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”

Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”

She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”

“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”

“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”

“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”

“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.

“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.

Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.

She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.

“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.

The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.

“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”

“But Mommmm…” he whined.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”

“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”

“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”

Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”

David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.

“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.

“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”

“None of them will be as good as Norman.”

Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”

Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.

“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.

“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.

“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.

Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”

“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.

“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.

All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.

Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”

“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”

Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”

Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.

Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”

“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”

“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”

Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”

Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”

“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.

“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”

“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”

“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.

“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.

“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”

As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”

Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.

After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”

“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.

“How long have you known him?”

“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.

Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.

“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”

“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.

“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”

Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”

She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.

“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”

“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”

Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”

“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”

“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”

“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”

“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”

“Ouch,” Emma commented.

“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”

“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.

“Deal.”

“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”

“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”

“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”

“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”

“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”

“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”

“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”

“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.

“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.

“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”

Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.

“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”

“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.

“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.

Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.

“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.

“He has his moments.”

They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.

The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.

Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”

“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.

“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”

“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”

“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”

“Aye, if I decide to stay.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”

“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”

“Ernie?” Killian questioned.

“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”

“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”

“They seem to really like each other.”

“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”

“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.

Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”

“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”

They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.

While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.

“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.

“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”

After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.

“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”

“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”

They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.

He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”

A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”

The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.

The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.

Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”

“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”

“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.

Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”

Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.

Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.

“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.

“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.

Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”

Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”

Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”

Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”

Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”

“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”

“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”

Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”

“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”

Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”

She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.

When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.

Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.

Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.

Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.

Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

NEW TAG LIST:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

[spenglersweetheart]

IDEA IDEA IDEA

In the second movie, reader joins the ghostbusters again after they disbanded in the first movie and it seems everyone forgot how capable they actually are and the attitude they can have when catching ghosts

:0 oooh i can do this

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

You Forgot How Capable I Was

there's definitely a reader but this is all platonic!

WARNINGS : none!

─────────────── ✦ ───────────────

YOU WERE MORE THAN HAPPY TO BE BACK WITH YOUR buddies working again. You were happy that the Ghostbusters were officially back together, back to working and catching ghosts. You were getting sick and tired of the teaching job that you had. You didn't mind teaching kids, you loved it. But sometimes, that was exhausting. So much more exhausting than catching ghosts.

But, there was something definitely off when you started back. You could barely help anyone. Or, the others wouldn't let you help them.

Whenever there was a call, they wanted you to stay behind. You didn't know the reason for this. The first time they banded, you were allowed to call on calls with them. Well, at least you could file the samples. Until that was pretty much taken away. So, sometimes you were stuck with Janine. And that wasn't a bad thing.

But you missed the adrenaline of ghostbusting. So why wouldn't they let you go with them?

There had been a call somewhere on 42nd. They four were pretty much three now. Peter had caught the flu and he couldn't go out on the bust with them. The fact that you had to beg and plead for you to join them kind of hurt, but at least you got to go on this one.

It was a bookstore. It was closed for the day because of the weird things that had been going on in there. It was pretty huge, and you had suggested to split up so that you guys could cover more ground. They pretty much looked at you like you were crazy, but they eventually agreed.

You covered one part of the bookstore. You happened to sense something on your PKE meter when you passed a bookshelf. You check in between the horror section. There it was.

"Guys," you say into your radio, "I found it, I'm gonna hold it off."

"Wait until we get there," Egon told you.

"By the time you guys get here it'll go away," you sigh, turning on the proton back.

"Y / N ..."

"Egon, I got it," you grumble, before shooting the ghost.

You weren't listening to them. Not after they pretty much forgot that you used to be a Ghostbuster, too. You keep the ghost stunned. You manage to glance behind the steam, spotting Ray on the other side of the aisle.

"Ray, I got it," you told him, bring the trap over.

You're calm. It's the three others that are slightly freaking out over you. You couldn't believe that they did that. You didn't know what had gotten into them. So, you had to prove to them.

Ray slides the ghost trap over, and you actually put it in the trap. All by yourself. Without any of the others' help.

Egon and Winston made it over to you not too long after you put the ghost in.

"You did it," Winston said to you.

You look behind you. "Yeah, of course I did," you replied, "I've known how to do this. You guys just forgot how capable I was."

You pretty much push past them, knowing that this would probably be your last bust in a while.

"We're sorry," you hear Egon's voice say.

You turn back around. "Why did you guys keep me from helping?" You ask, "I've done this just as long as you guys have. I was so happy to finally be together again as a brand. As a family. And you guys just ... I dunno."

"We were worried," Ray admitted, "Because we know how much you liked that job as a teacher. We didn't want something to happen to you. Especially because those kids love you."

You frowned. That was actually a sweet gesture. And you knew that you couldn't be mad at them forever. "Wait ... Really?"

"Really," Winston told you, "We didn't want their favorite teacher getting hurt."

"Well, that's very sweet of you guys. But, I will be fine. I have you guys. You wouldn't let anything happen to me," you explain to them, "And I wouldn't let anything happen to myself."

The other three were quiet for a while. Maybe keeping you from doing this kind of job was the wrong decision for them. You were actually a great addition to the team, and they loved having you.

"So, am I back on the team?" You ask.

Ray gives you a nod. "Welcome back to the team, Y / N."

[your-space-brain]

Would You Say I’m Worthy?

Harry “Opie” Winston x Reader - One Shot

Gif does not belong to me.

Hey guys! It’s Blaire from @spacedbrainnn . Just moving my writing onto a main blog!

You were head over heels for the man and there was no stopping it. He was all brooding, troubled and mysterious and you could do nothing to stop yourself from the head first dive that you’d taken since you met him.

He hardly spoke, but he left you notes here and there. You’d been assisting SAMCRO for the longest time since Chucky arrived, who was a good friend of yours, and you’d caught one another’s eye. After that, it was subtle glances and a smile here or there, or even a wink if you were lucky.

‘Have a good day.’

‘Here’s a shitty daisy like flower.’

‘I hate the color of this sticky note.’

‘How’s our two fingered friend doing?’

‘I’m keeping this pen.’

Those intimate sticky note letters were barely legible and hardly anything to scoff at. What he thought was just a running joke, you enjoyed, and kept each one in a little container beneath the bar top. He didn’t know the effect he had on you, or anyone for that matter, since he lost both Donna and his kids.

“What’s it say today?” Chucky was the first one to ask as he began to wipe down the top of the deep mahogany bartop.

“‘What’s the sky look like from your end?’” You read to Chucky with a little laugh. “He asks me these questions but doesn’t give me a place to reply to them at.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want you to.” Chucky offered as he shrugged, getting back to work on making the bartop shiny and clean.

“How would you put it? ‘I accept that’?” You teased, earning a smile out of the chipper, barely fingered man.

A roar of bikes signaled that some of SAMCRO’s finest had returned, making both Chucky and you raise your heads slightly to peer through the window.

Opie was trailing Jax and Bobby as they pulled up, his long hair flicking beneath his helmet as he pulled into the drive. He stopped a bit after his parking space and backed it in, before hitting the kill switch and discarding his helmet on the handle bars.

He didn’t speak when he came in, all leather and hair being smoothed out below silver ring clad fingers. “Hey darlin’.” Jax greeted as she threw him a wave, ignoring his charm, but Opie didn’t stay long and disappeared down the hallway.

“He doesn’t speak too much, does he?” You asked Jax, and he shook his head.

“Nah, not too much. It’s been a while since he spoke freely.”

—

Every Friday night was a Crow Eater party. It was a time when you would come for a while, before things got too terribly wound up, and then you would leave. You were sipping a beer, leaned on the bar, looking around but there was a pair of familiar eyes missing.

“Where’s Ope?” You asked Chucky, who shrugged.

When you didn’t get a reply, you handed the amber bottle over to Chucky for safe keeping before you wandered off down the hall to see if he was in his dorm.

Lo and behold, through a crack in his dorm door, he was kicked back in bed, still fully clothed minus his boots, an arm over his eyes with only the lamplight on. He looked peaceful, until you disrupted that by lightly knocking with one knuckle.

“Come in.” It was a slurred mumble as his eyes finally opened again. They were dark and swirling as you stepped into the meticulously neat room, the only thing out of place being a couple of motorcycle parts out on the desk.

“Hey, not joining the party?” You asked as you came to sit in his wooden desk chair.

“Nah. Not my scene.” He replied as he grunted, moving to swing his legs over the edge of the bed and sit up, his back popping while his muscles protested wickedly.

“Oh, that’s fair.” He nodded as you said it, having been half asleep, but he just yawned quietly. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

He wasn’t prepared for what you were going to ask him next. “Why don’t you ever give me a chance to reply to your notes?” The man, for once, looked absolutely dumbfounded. He ran a hand over his beard as he thought about a reply, before clearing his tatted throat.

“I guess… I didn’t think you’d want to.”

This shocked you. Your brows knit for a moment as he calculatedly watched him, a frown on your lips. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

Several reasons popped in the burdened man’s head. He was a killer, he lost everything he loved to this club and if he let you in, you were pretty much signing your own death warrant to Mr. Mayhem. You were putting a black listed card in your own hands.

Finally, he gave a heavy sigh and replied, his eyes dropping to his socked feet. “If I let you in, you very well could be ending your life by picking me.”

This caused you to recoil a bit. “So you’re not even giving me a choice?” You asked him.

“No. I’m not worth anyone getting themselves killed or hurt.”

He seemed so cut and dry with this response, as if this was already made up in his head, as if he didn’t want to risk being the sole reason another life dropped for loving him. He already beat himself down to know he wasn’t worthy.

“You don’t get to make that choice. You don’t… get to pick what’s best for me.” You told him with a shake of your head. “Why can’t you let me try?”

The words were stuck in Opie’s throat as you reached out and caressed his beard. He swallowed carefully, before he pressed his lips to your palm.

“I can’t make your decisions for you. I can only advise you that this might not be best.” He murmured, before you made him look you in the eyes.

“I’m picking you.”

— end —

[beautouslysandy]

reliving those memories we made

i hate him for taking him away from me….sequel

by- sandy

dallas winston x gn!reader

warnings: lowercase intended, happy ending, language

request- I read the sequel to "No Explanation..." and I just NEED a part 3 with a happy ending 😭😭😭 also I love love love your works 😍

word count- 1,386

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

reliving memories is one of the things in life that lead to different outcomes. different people…different memories….different emotions. however with him, there was a universe full of emotions. the most current memories are causing pain. he yet again left you, just with an explanation this time. you were in the kitchen helping your mom with dinner, you guys were making steak and mashed potatoes. you mom had her own little dinner on the north side, it’s called ‘jolene’s eats’. its one of your favorite places in the world, it’s very retro and well your mom. your little sister was in her room doing something that a girly nine year old would do. “so have you talked to dallas recently?” your mom asked with concern as she mashed the potatoes

“not since he came over here when you and avery (your younger sister) were gone���” you say with a sad sigh as you check the steaks in the oven

“hmm, i am sorry babes. breaks up stink.” she says this looking you in the eyes sympathetically

you chuckle sadly and say “yeah this one specifically…”

“maybe he will come around, you never know with those boys.” she comforts with a small smile

you nodded, your front door echoes a knock. you both look at eachother and your mom shrugs as she wasn’t expecting anyone. “avery love, we’re you expecting someone?” your mom calls to your little sister

“nuh uh.” she calls back, it sounds a tad bit muffled due to her yelling through a closed door.

“i’ll will see who it is.” you say and your mom replied with a nod. you feel that hope arise, the same one the day he came over and explained. before you knew it you opened the door to reveal sodapop and johnny…odd combo.

“hey y/n!” sodapop says cheerful as he pulls you into an unexpected hug. you chuckle wholeheartedly, the first time in a while, “hey soda!”

“we miss you!” soda says pulling out of the hug with johnny awkwardly behind him

“same here….hey johnny.” you say with a small smile

“hey y/n” he says with a soft smile

“who is it, babes?” your mom calls from the kitchen

“sodapop and johnny!” you call back

you see your mom step out of the kitchen and wave “hey boys! how are you?” she says and greets them with a comforting and maternal smile

“good!” they both say and soda adds “how about you, ms. l/n?”

“great, honey! thanks!” she says this as she heads back into the kitchen.

“so what brings you by?” you ask with confusion to the unexpected vist

“dallas.” johnny says with a sigh

your eyes widened, “what about him?” you reply with a forced small smile

his name makes your heart hurt…everytime.

“he is miserable without you, like insanely miserable.” sodapop says with a sad smile

“same here.” you say impulsively

“told you.” johnny whispers

“…anyways we were wondering if ohh could come over….maybe rekindle?” sodapop says with a spark of hope in his voice

“i tried and either way he ended it.” you say looking at sodapop with wide eyes

“huh….odd.” sodapop said, clearly thinking that you broke up with him

“i could try…maybe after dinner?” you say feeing bad for some reason

“that would be great! you know where we are, just give us a call first! thanks y/n!” he says with that silly cheerful smile of his.

why couldn’t you like a sweet sensible guy like sodapop? why the cold hearted jerk? no. he isn’t that, he is just like that now?

you nod as they walk away.

••• with sodapop and johnny.

“that went well!” sodapop says as he walks down the sidewalk

“sure. if that’s your definition of well.” he says, he feels angry for some reason.

“what’s the sarcasm for, johnny? i thought you would be happy?” he says looking at johnny bewildered by his sarcasm

“they felt forced to come over…that’s what it is for. they shouldn’t have to make dallas get back to together with them. if anything it should be the other way around. what he did was shitty, really shitty.” johnny says this with a sigh, he was super mad at dallas for doing this, he saw you as a mom. someone who always knew would be there. someone he could confide in. but not anymore, thanks to dallas.

“yeah but…they are still coming over?” sodapop says as he opens the front door to the curtis household.

“who?” darry asked, raising his brow at the two boys

“uhhh….” johnny said

“joe.” sodapop says quickly, none of boys knew what they had just done.

“hmm. joe? who the hell is that?” dallas says with a cold scoul, that’s his only expression recently.

“somebody important.” johnny said, glaring at dallas

“okay!” ponyboy says, not wanting drama between the two boys

“have you talked to y/n recently, dally?” two-bit asked

“no. i don’t care about her.” he lies

“sure man. sure.” steve says looking at dallas with suspicion

“whatever man.” he groans with a grim face

••• you are on the curtis’s porch and debating whether or not to knock. you take a deep breath and decide to knock immediately regretting it when the door opens. then appears a shocked darry.

“hey joe.” he says with a smirk.

you look behind you and that makes darry laugh. you smile. “hey.” you say in your best deep masculine voice.

out of all the boys, darry and johnny were the two you most connected with. you say them as brothers. “what brings you by, joe?” he says with a smile and chuckle, clearly not wanting dallas to know.

you hand him a letter and say “nothing but this, bye darry.” you say with your sweet smile and run to your house before dallas can recognize your voice.

the door closes and darry hands the letter to dallas, who instantly recognizes your handwriting and opens it.

dal,

hey it’s me, i know i know we talked about us but i didn’t get to talk. you mean so much to me and this pains me so much. i wake up crying…..just because you don’t have self esteem it doesn’t mean you get to drop me like i am nothing. you hurt me and i may never get to forgive you but i can get over it. two boys came over (don’t mess with them) and we talked. i was supposed to come inside but i thought a letter might be more appropriate. now i am not going to come a beg for you back (even thought that’s what i want to do), my mom made a good point…you broke up with me which means you need to come back and beg for me

sure you thought your choice through but i don’t think it was the right one….if you want to talk…i am here

lots of love,

your doll

he takes a deep breath as he closes the letter and then runs out to catch up with you who didn’t get to far.

“doll?” he says with a few breaths

you turn and are faced with him, who is super close.

“dal…what are you-“ you begin but are cut off by one of his soft yet passionate kisses

“i got your letter, and i think i made the wrong choice….i need you in my life…i am miserable without you. just miserable.” he says with a whine

“i heard.” you tease with a smirk

he groans “soda? i don’t even have to ask.”

you giggle at the usual sarcastic and tough tall brunette now confessing how miserable he is without you.

“please, doll…let me be yours again. i will never leave your side, again. please be mine.” he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing your nose.

“i have to think abo-“

he kisses you again, and whines like a child. “please, doll. please.” “okay okay, since you asked so nicely.” you giggle at the sight of your brunette.

“good.” he says as he kisses you for a longer and more passionate kiss.

he rests his hands on your waist as you wrap your arms around his neck. you feel at peace and he feels all warm inside.

everything is right. no more need to relive those memories we made, when we can make new ones.

[sweet-child]

dally x an introverted reader who’s actually like super energetic and loud when they’re alone????

introvert

 a typically reserved or quiet person who tends to be introspective and enjoys spending time alone

something (such as the retractile proboscis of some worms) that is or can be drawn in especially by invagination

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

In which we see Dallas with an introverted partner

Pairing - Dallas Winston x Introverted!GN!Reader

Word Count - 851

A/n - I feel like I didn't do it justice, but I don't think I could have done it any better. I hope you enjoy it though, Anon!

"Dig in!"

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Buck liked to throw parties. Alot. He liked to blow the money he won at rodeos on his parties, booze, and cancer sticks. Everyone knows about Buck's parties and how wild they can get. The later into the evening, the more people would show. Dallas Winston partied on occasions, but, normally, only at Buck’s or another greaser hang out. He and Buck were friends, not as close as he was to the Curtis gang though. When Dallas had first moved to Tulsa, when the boy was about 12, he tried stealing from the lanky cowboy by pickpocketing. Buck grabbed Dal’s wrist as the younger boy tried to reach his hand into the older’s pocket. One look at Dallas, and Buck quickly took the young boy under his wing. Taught him how to ride horses and to barrel race. They were the type of friends that you aren’t close to, but you still defend and look out for each other. 

When Dallas and Y/n first met (at another one of Buck’s parties), the latter was quiet, and observed dancing and conversations. Dallas noticed them in the corner, and kept glancing at them through the night. When they were dragged away from the corner by their mutual friend to play pool, that's when Dal decided to start a conversation with them. Buck and Y/n were playing pool together at first, with the tall, brown-eyed greaser trying to get to know them, but Buck got dragged away and Dallas took his place playing pool. 

“Are you normally this quiet?” He asked, somewhat judgmentally, taking a shot at a solid and missing. “Just introverted.” The shorter one replied, taking a shot at a stripe and getting it in the cup. From that moment on, they seemed to never be apart. It was like a dog with his owner. A very vicious dog with his very observant owner. 

Tonight was another one of Buck’s parties with loud music, smoking, drinking, dancing, and even crowded. Y/n was dragged to the party by their boyfriend, Dallas, after a good night at the rodeo. Earlier that night, Dal had made a personal record for finishing at 13.67 seconds. In support of the brown-haired teen, you went with no complaints. But that was an hour ago. Now, the taller boy was talking to one of his buddies, Tim Shepard, while the h/c-haired teen was in the corner, a drink in hand, while observing the partiers. It wasn’t their social scene. They preferred to be with their friends, having fun. Just even being there at the party was slowly draining their social battery. However, being at the party had some perks; Free food, free drinks, free entertainment when people got into fights. 

Dallas broke away from the eldest Shepard, ending their conversation, and walked over to his partner. “Y’look bored,” He stated as he leaned against the wall. “Of course I'm bored,” Y/n rolled their eyes, “Can we go, Dal?” 

Dallas was silent for a moment but let out a huff of air. “Fine,” He leaned off the wall “Lets go.” Wrapping an arm around their neck, they left Buck’s and started to walk down the dimly lit sidewalks. The two walked in peaceful silence with only the gentle wind or cars driving down the street breaking it. Soon enough, the two were in Y/n’s room. Dallas plopped onto their bed, with a squeak of the springs, sprawling out. His e/c-eyed partner crawled on top of him, laying on his chest. 

“You smell good,” They complimented with a smile. “You sniff me?” “It's hard not to when I'm laying on your chest.” Dallas let out a small, gruff chuckle. “Oh! That reminds me,” Y/n sat up and crawled off his chest and out of the bed “I'm trying out new scents. What do you think smells better?” They asked, as they pulled out two perfume bottles and spritzed them to where their boyfriend could smell. “The first one is lavender and cotton, but the second one is rose with a hint of vanilla. I like both, but I personally like the second one more. I want your opinion because I want my boyfriend to think I smell good. What do you think?” They rambled

Dallas sat up slightly with his head leaning against the headboard before smelling both. “The second one,” The brown-haired boy confirmed as Y/n nodded, and put them both on their makeup stand before getting back on the bed and on Dallas’ chest. “Hey Dal?” Dallas looked down at his partner on his chest, and with his rough hand, he brushed a piece of hair out of their face. “Yes, Doll?” “Can we go see a movie at the drive-in? Or do something together? Just me ‘nd you?”

Dallas, with a grin on his face, shook his head and adjusted himself to where his back was against the headboard before asking “Why don't you talk this much at parties?”

Y/n, who sat up as well, looked up at their boyfriend, a smile on their face. “Just introverted.”

[coconutlicorice]

Illustration from “Miss Winston’s Reply” a Kirsten Story.

[blurscolours]

The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea | Part Ten

Masterlist

Summary: An attack on Arthur’s imprisoned brother Orm leaves him with no choice but to rely upon you, a friend made due to unfortunate circumstances nearly a decade ago, to provide safe haven while he restores peace to Atlantis. Suddenly tasked with sheltering a sullen former king results in a very different summer vacation than you had originally envisioned, but changes both of your lives forever.

Warnings: Reading From a Romance Novel, Mature/Explicit Themes [manual stimulation - m receiving] - 18+ only.

Word Count: 1748

Author's Note: The extractions from Julia Quinn's The Duke and I are entirely property of HarperCollins and included in tribute to her fantastic talents. This story is for entertainment purposes only and not for monetary gain.

The heat broke at last with a string of thunderstorms, keeping the weekenders away and the two of you inside. You had settled on the veranda to read after cleaning up following lunch, you on the daybed looking out over the lake, him in the rocking chair beside you. He had only a few pages left in a biography of Winston Churchill, and you heard him set the book down on the table.

“Did you need a new book?” You asked, looking up to him.

“I will find one, don’t worry.” He kissed your temple as he passed you on his way to the bookshelf, returning with one of the smutty romance novels he had watched you read. You looked up as he sat at the end of the daybed and gently parted your legs, smiling as he settled his back against your chest, his head resting against your shoulder. You wrapped an arm around his waist warmly. You had found he enjoyed being held – with the stories he had told you it was no surprise. In fact, it was your pleasure to shower him with affection and comfort.

As he lifted the book, a laugh burst forth from your lips as the title of Julia Quinn’s ‘The Duke and I’ came into view.

“Are you aware that is an entirely different genre than what you have been reading?”

He nodded, undeterred.

“Your heartbeat was quite rapid at times when you were reading this last week. I am intrigued.”

You flushed and bit your lip, turning back to your own novel; a more serious one this time, in your defense.

The next two hours passed peacefully until he shifted slightly, over halfway through the book, and looked up to you.

“This book is quite erotic.” He commented and you cleared your throat.

“True.” You replied quietly, slightly embarrassed to have been caught, even after the fact. Focusing on your book intently, you missed the wicked smirk that cross his features.

“Daphne’s breath fled as she watched him slide the silk slowly from side to side, the sweet friction causing her nipples to pucker and harden.” Your body went rigid as he started to read aloud from the novel, the words positively sinful when delivered by his voice.

The grin that unfurled on his features as he felt your reaction was positively devious. He continued from further down the page.

“With deft and knowing fingers, Simon slid the rest of her clothes from her body; until she was nude in his arms….”

He continued to read the steaming words from the page, and you noted his voice was taking on a husky quality. You set down your book and bit you lip as you wondered if you could best him at his own game. Your hands began to slide down again his sides and you noticed the shudder in his breath, but he continued to read aloud the wedding night of the two characters. As your hands reached his hips, they traversed across his lower abdomen to meet over the fly of his shorts. A thrill of triumph raced through you as you could feel his growing erection beneath the fabric.

You massaged his groin encouragingly and his words stuttered before he went silent. You leaned down to nibble lightly on the tip of his ear.

“Well, don’t stop now…” You own voice betrayed your arousal as you fairly purred the statement.

He shuddered with a groan but after a deep breath, he continued reading as requested. Your tongue traced the shell of his ear as you worked his shorts and underwear down his thighs, just enough to grasp his rapidly hardening cock.

“Simon felt her thighs slide apart as he settled his body against hers, his manhood hot against her belly…”

You licked your lips and stroked his flesh, shifting down to nip and suck the column of his throat as your other hand cupped his testicles softly. He had been such a generous lover; it gave you great satisfaction to focus your attention solely on him. You felt the moisture of a bead of precum slide down his cock and you cupped it in your fist, tightening your grasp around him.

You cast your eyes about for the bottle of lotion you knew was out there on the veranda and continued to stroke him as you pumped a few squirts into your palm, wrapping your second hand around his length and ensured he was well lubricated before your hands moved in tandem along his skin. The sentence he had been reading broke off into a moan emanating from somewhere deep inside him. It reverberated through your chest, egging you on. You slid your thumb to begin teasingly the tip of his cock, circling the head, gathering more beads of precum from the slit.

“He began to move within her…” he continued shakily, his exhales heavily laden with pleasure.

You slid your right hand down to the base of his cock, following it with your left, repeating the downward sliding motion slowly as the coupling in the book grew in intensity.

“He moved ever faster, his teeth gritted as he fought to maintain his control…” he rasped, his hips rutting up into your hands.

As your right hand started at the tip of his cock again, you wrapped only your thumb and forefinger around his girth and began to rapidly stroke it up and down his weeping length. The fingers of his free hand dug into your left thigh and his head arched back, eyes screwed shut as he panted and groaned eagerly. You latched your lips onto the tender flesh behind his ear and you suckled at his skin. In preparation for his release, your free hand splayed across his lower abdomen, sliding upwards, his shirt catching at your wrist and exposing the fluttering muscles of his stomach.

“Ahn!” He cried out, very close. He was panting your name and fully bucking his hips in time with your strokes. You added your middle finger to your motions, positioning it so it traced along the sensitive connection between the head and shaft of his cock. Curses of Atlantean origin fell from his lips and he let the book fall to the floor to allow for his other hand to grasp your right thigh. He thrust his hips harshly, thick white ropes of cum painting his stomach as his release exploded from him. You wrapped your hand around him fully once again, stroking slowly and gently to prolong his pleasure.

He shuddered from head to toe as the waves of pleasure receded, and you felt his weight press fully against your chest as he went lax. You kissed his cheek softly, grabbing some tissues from the side table and wiping his stomach clean before gently redressing him. His hands were sliding up and down your thighs in gentle affection, but he didn’t quite seem capable of speech at the point.

“It is quite an enjoyable read, is it not?” You asked cheekily and he managed a nod. You kissed his temple and shifted back against the pillows, stroking his hair and eyebrows until his breaths deepened and slowed as sleep took him. You grinned to yourself in triumph before resuming your read.

As he was waking about an hour later, the sky was also beginning to clear, a refreshing wind from the North bringing a clear twilight sky and cooler temperatures. While you were grateful for the more comfortable weather, it reminded you that summer was coming to a close, that you only had one week left out here.

You felt Orm rise and turn in your arms before he kissed you slowly – lovingly even. You blushed at the affection radiating from his actions and licked your lips as he pulled back.

“What troubles you?” He murmured; voice still thick with sleep.

“The passage of time.” You replied ambiguously before adding, “I’m going home in a week, and we still haven’t heard a thing from Arthur.”

He nodded thoughtfully, shifting to sit beside you. His fingers twined with yours and you smiled a little.

“The lack of news is troubling. I am certain he did not intend to be dealing with this for the length of time it has taken.”

You nodded firmly. “Exactly…we should start thinking about what to do if we’ve had no news by Friday…I have to leave Saturday to get home and ready for…well real life the following week.”

It was a sobering thought, for both of you. The last three weeks had been so isolated, in your own world centered on the pair of you, that the ‘before’ felt foreign now. Your life without him. You felt a flutter of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. How on earth could Orm fit into your normal life outside of this cottage in the woods…

His fingers squeezed yours softly, seeming to have sensed your inner turmoil. You turned to look at him.

“We will find a solution.” He said solemnly and lifted your hand, kissing your knuckles. Your features relaxed a little and you nodded, kissing his cheek.

“Thank you.” You smiled a little and he pressed his lips to your reassuringly.

He took a shower while you made dinner. As you were standing in the kitchen your lower back began to ache a little and you tried some stretches to relieve the discomfort. You had been so focused on bringing him pleasure, who knew what position you had contorted yourself into.

He came into the kitchen, finding you in a forward fold as the rice cooked on the stove.

“I am not sure what you are doing…” He commented as his feet came into view first.

“Oh, my back is just bothering me…another human talent…random, unexplainable pain.” You laughed and carefully straightened to stand.

“Let me clean up tonight, then. The dishes will dry in the rack on the counter.” He insisted.

You didn’t argue with his offer and once you’d finished eating, you retired to the couch, finding a comfortable position. You watched quietly as he dealt with leftovers, compost, and washed all the dishes – he looked surprisingly domestic and quite at home in the kitchen – so much had changed in the past three weeks.

He coaxed you to bed early that evening, simply holding you once you had found a comfortable position. Somehow, it felt like the most intimate thing you had ever done, merely falling asleep in his warm embrace.

Read Part Eleven

Masterlist

[raidenbuddha]

Can you do a fanfiction about Darry or getting caught with Johnny. Even head cannons of the gang?

A/N: I will be making a head cannons one soon so please give recommendations to me! P-S. I’m guessing you meant a y/n fanfic. Also it’s kinda short but straight to the point I would say

CAUGHT WITH DARRY:

Last night was the best you’d slept in days.. probably because your boyfriend Darry Curtis was cuddling with you. You both loved to cuddle each other whenever you could and of course Darry was always the big spoon. At the beginning of your relationship you both were sleeping a bit farther from eachother(on the bed of course) but slowly you creeped together over time. ”Babe?” you called for Darry as you woke up since he wasn’t in the bed. You decided to walk out of your and Darry’s room and went downstairs to check for any sight of him

There you see the entire gang..yay. Two bit and Steve were of course eating a slice of chocolate cake spoiling their breakfast as daddy calls it and watching Mickey Mouse. Soda was on the couch and pony boy and Johnny were at the lot probably reading or something. Lastly, handsome ass Darry is in the kitchen making breakfast for the boys and yourself.There you are dar.” “Mornin sweetheart.” “Would you like some pancakes and eggs y/n when they are done?” “Sure.. thanks baby.”

“Get a load of this boys. Putting on a show y/n?” says dallas. Looking at yourself you realized you were wearing only one of Darry’s oversized t shirts and your underwear. “Sir Dallas Winston You better watch your mouth before you ain’t got any teeth to speak from it …Sweetheart go get dressed.” “Yes Darry.. whaddya think I should wear today ?” “A pretty dress!” With that Darry left the kitchen for to quickly slap your ass and give you a kiss.

To say the least Darry was an extremely respectable man. He was extremely hard working as he worked two jobs to support his brothers. When you both got serious you moved in with the boys and you made Darry’s job wayyy easier which he always told you.

Darry is definitely one for sweet talking you. He always makes sure to tell you how great you are and reminds you of your beauty. Sometimes when you or him feels down you two just cuddle or read some of pony boys books together. Another hobby of yours was…. Sex

You and darry have had sex before but as of lately he’s been so busy. With the gang, work, or your schedules don’t aline well. A few times you’ve had car sex with him, but it’s not the same or as intimate as it’s been before and once again it’s been a hot minute. You’ve been feeling pretty…you know what…. Lately and you just wished Darry felt the same about this pressing issue of yours.

Pony boy told you he was planning on going to the movies so you were waiting for him to ask the gang. “Would you guys want to go to the movies with Johnny and I?” “can I bring evie and soda pop bring lacy?” “Sounds like a plan Steve” pony boy replied. “Darry and y/n do you guys want to come with us?” “Pony boy they need their alone time. We’ve talked about this.” says soda pop. “Yeah pony boy. When a man and a woman love each oth—-dally.” “BYE BYE BOYS” you yelled and shut the door.

“Y/n do you want to watch a movie in the bedroom?” “Yes of course” you say seductively thinking it was a sexual innuendo. No no of course! it wasn’t. Darry however put on a movie for the two of you… a romance one. You’d hope you get some (LOL) and you did. Around 15 minutes into the movie he began snaking his hands up and down the sides of you. “God you smell so good y/n. I missed you… I need you y/n” You paused the tv and replied “I missed you too baby.. please make me yours Darry” He engulfed you in a passionate kiss and placed himself on top of you.

Darry began to straddle himself against you while you rocked your hips still while making out. “Sweetheart take off your clothes.” He sounded so demanding and dominant.. so sexy. “Yes daddy.” “That’s what I like to hear” he whispered in your ear as you unclipped your bra. Darry practically ripped your underwear off of your body and began to swirl his tongue around your cunt. As he began to finger it too you gasped. “Feels good doesn’t it y/n?” Y-yess baby. It’s feels really good.” “Looks like I still got it.”

He placed your hand on his crotch and you got the hint to stroke it for him. “Ah” he groaned. “Doing great s-swEEtheart.” “Darry I need more from you please .” “More what?” He replied smugly. “I need you to fuck me darry.” “My pleasure doll face .” As he entered you it became harder and harder to keep in your moans. “Daddy.” “D-Darry.” “Y/n! your doing so good. So tight for me..all for me.” He groans and moans whispering sweet nothing into your ear. “D-Darry I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!” “Give it to me sweetheart.” As you clench tightly around him, your cunt milks him for every last drop of cum it has.

Darry took it upon himself to strap down your legs with his hands and lick up your pussy. Stroking it and tasting you to him was the best part of your sex. Knowing what a great job he’s done. “Thanks baby for the meal and pleasing me. I can only hope I pleased you today.” “Yes you did darry… that was amazing.”

You’d come down from your high and carry suggested you both take a shower together. As he opened the door two bit Dallas and sodapop fell into you both face first. “What the hell is going on here.” asked darry. We could as you the same question” replies soda. “So how was he y/n?. Is he good?” “D-Darry I’m-I-m gonna cum!” Copies Steve. “Give it to me sweetheart” two bit replies. Feeling embarrassed and being that you’re naked with only a towel with just had to fall. “Wait Darry you’re kinda big. I bet you please y/n really well.” “I mean we heard her say he pleases her.”-two bit.”don’t forget about his “good meal”. Embarrassed and mad Darry replies “Excuse me Dallas and you two?” “You heard me.” “When I get my hands on you.” “Don’t fuck me like you did y/n” and with that all the boys ran out the house.

[layce2015]

John Wick Chapter 4 (John Wick x Female!Reader)

Chapter 3: Ruska Roma

First Chapter

JW4 Masterlist

John and (y/n) make their way to the subway and get inside. They go and sit down on the seats and John pulls out the pin badge he grabbed. "What is that?" (Y/n) asked him. He looks over at her and was about to reply when he sees Akira staggering in, holding her bleeding side. John and (y/n) stand up and they realize Shimazu wasn't with her and judging by the look on her face, he didn't make it.

"Who is he?" Akira asked John as she walks over to them, the train starting to move. "He was a friend." John said and Akira glares at John. "My father is dead because of you and her. Because of what you did." Akira said as she walks closer to the couple. "So either you kill him...or I will." She said. "I understand." John said and they share a look and Akira sighs then turns.

"Do you need..?" (Y/n) asked her but she shakes her head as she goes to the door of the train. The train stops and the door opens. "Goodbye, Mr and Mrs Wick." She said and she walks out of the train and the door shuts behind her.

It had been a couple of days since John and (y/n) had returned from Japan. (Y/n) was sitting on the bed her and John slept on in this hideout The Bowery King offered to them. She looks down at the bracelet that Helen gave her for her 16th birthday. She runs her fingers over the charms until she lands on the daisy charm.

Her eyes fill with tears as she remembers when she opened the present to see this bracelet. She remembers the excited smile that Helen had and how she asked (y/n) what she thought about. 

Flashback

"Hmm...I don't know. I think there's a missing charm." (Y/n) said and Helen gives a worried look. "What?! No, no, no..." she said and she looks at the bracelet, only to see it was fine. "You." She grumbles and she shoves (y/n)'s shoulder, making (y/n) laugh. "Sorry, Helen. Couldn't help it." (Y/n) laughs and Helen rolls her eyes.

​​​​​"Don't do that! Almost had an heartattack!" Helen said. (Y/n) smiles and looks down at the bracelet. "Thanks, Helen. I love it!" (Y/n) said and Helen smiles. "I figured you would. I know in a couple of months I'm gonna be gone to college and I'll be away from you. So, I thought...well, it might be cheesy but...I thought that whenever you feel sad or scared, always look at this bracelet and know that I'll always be with you, even when I'm not." She said.

(Y/n) smiles then laughs a little. "You're right. That is cheesy." (Y/n) said and Helen rolls her eyes again. "Last time I get you a present." Helen laughs, sarcastically, and (y/n) laughs with her.

Present Day

The sound of the door opening pulls her out of her memories and she looks up to see John walking in. "Hey." He said. "Hey." She greets, softly. "We, uh...we need to go. Winston has asked to see us." John tells her and she nods. "Okay..." (y/n) said as she puts her bracelet away and stands up and The Bowery King comes up.

"He said to meet him at the memorial park." The Bowery King said and (y/n) nods then looks at John. "You think we have time to make a quick stop?" (Y/n) asked him and John looks at her then nods at this.

Later, John and (y/n), who was holding one white rose, walk along the snowy grounds of the memorial park while Winston lights a candle for Charon, who had a plaque on the memorial wall. The couple come upon Winston, who had his back to them as he looks at the plaque. 

"Winston." John greets. "Johnathan. (Y/n)" Winston said, still not looking at them. "Our condolences." (Y/n) said, apologetically. "He was a good man." John said. "Yes, he was." Winston said and he turns to face them. "Taken for our sins." He said and John looks down then he steps forward, pulling the pin badge out of his coat pocket.

"Who is this?" John asked Winston as he holds up the badge. "The Marquis de Gramont. Elevated only by his guarantee of killing you. All the resources of the Table are at his disposal." Winston said. "Where do we find him?" John asked him. "Paris." Winston replied and John nods, slightly, and he pockets the badge while (y/n) walks over to Charon's plaque.

She gets right up on it then places the white rose on the ledge then gives a slight prayer for Charon. She didn't know him very well but the little time she spent with him, he was very kind.

"Where will it end?" Winston asked and (y/n) turns around as John comes up to her. "With him dead." John said as he turns to face Winston. "Oh. And then?" Winston asked, condensindingly. John stares at him then back at his wife.

"Have you learned nothing? They will replace him before the body's cold. Hercules had his Hydra. You have The Table except you'll run out of bullets before they run out of heads." Winston said as he walks up to them. "Kill him, but do it the smart way. And get him to give you your freedom." Winston tells him.

"How?" John asked him. "Turn his rules and consequences against him. Challenge him to single combat." Winston said and John gives him a confused look as (y/n) looks between them. "High Table duels are a myth." John said. "Wrong! They're a cold hard fact, and part of the foundation of The Table to stop its more combustible members from outright war. It's also, win or lose, what you say you want, a way out." Winston explains.

"I don't sit at The Table." John said, shaking his head. "Your family does. Get them to issue the challenge and then offer you up as proxy." Winston said. "I don't have a family. The Ruska Roma tore my ticket. She's my only family." John said as he gestures to (y/n). "Then I suggest you get your ass to Berlin and get it mended. Or...pick a plot." Winston said and he turns and walks away. 

"What do you get out of this, Winston?" (Y/n) asked him, curiously, and he stops and turns to them again. "What your husband is so good at getting, Mrs Wick. Revenge." Winston said and he walks away, leaving the couple behind.

A couple of days later, John and (y/n) were walking along the streets of Berlin. (Y/n) looked around and was enjoying the sites, even though where they were going was very important. 

"Kinda sad that we can't take our time." She said and John turns to her. "The sites here are very pretty. Wouldn't mind spending a day or two here." She said and John looks down then back at her. "Maybe one day. When this is all done." He says and she raises her head to look up at him for a moment then smiles. "I'm holding you to that." She said and John smiles at her while she takes his hand in hers as they continue to walk along.

They make their way under a bridge and walk up to a doorway with a symbol that looked like a cross adorn above it. They walk up to the door while across the road, Mr Nobody walks out then pulls his book of information out and looks at it.

John and (y/n) enter the building to see a woman sitting nearby, holding a basket. She holds it out to them as they walk up to her and they start to pull out their guns and weapons. "Cool revolver...Vintage." the woman said as they place their weapons inside.

"Everything?" She asked and they nod and she gestures for them to continue. John and (y/n) walk down the aisle as there were several people at the pews, sitting and praying until they noticed the couple walking. The people raised their heads to look at the newcomers as John and (y/n) come upon the priest that was standing at the chapel.

"Father..." John said. "Yes, my son." the priest said and he raises his head. "I need to speak to Uncle Pyotr." John said just as the priest pulls out a shotgun. (Y/n) lets out a squeal and John grabs her then shields her as the priest fires his gun, making the couple fly back and land on the ground with an ​​oof.

"Nice suit." The priest said as he walks up to the couple and a couple of men grab John while another man grabs (y/n).

Later, John wakes up to see he is in a circular room, surrounded by other members of the Ruska. Two of them had a hold of (y/n), who was struggling in their grip and looked beyond terrified. "John!" She cried as he realized that he was hanging by noose around his neck, sitting in a chair and his hands bound together by rope.

Then a woman and three priest stand before him. "The prodigal son returns..." the woman said and a man behind John moves the crank, making it jerk John up a few inches. "But this isn't your home anymore, is it...Johnathan Wick?" The woman asked. ​​​"You grew up, Katia." John tells her. "And you got old. Then again, it's been awhile." Katia said.

"I need to talk to him." John said and Katia glares at him then nods to the man by the crank and he moves it, making John go up to where it looks like he was standing. (Y/n) struggles again against the men's grip but they hold onto her.

"You are forgetting we are still under The Table. And last I checked, you are Excommunicado and your ticket was torn. You have no business with us.​​​​" Katia said and she nods again and John was lifted up a few more inches. "Stop, please!" (Y/n) pleads but then she was punched in the gut. "That's for Pyotr to decide." John said, struggling with the rope getting tighter and tighter around his neck. 

"Pyotr is dead!" Katia shouts, angrily, and John looks down at the floor. "After you put a bullet in The Elder's head, the Marquis had one put in Pyotr's. And in fine Russian tradition, he sent us the bill." Katia said as she walks up to John, chuckling. "Because of you, I had to kneel in front of the man who murdered my father." She tells him. "Then we have a common enemy. We can help each other." John pleads to her.

"You can't even help yourself or your little woman over there." Katia said as she gestures over to (y/n). "How the hell are you going to help us?" She asked him. "By killing this Marquis." John replied. "They just appoint another. His death changes NOTHING." Katia said and she walks away and the man uses the crank again and John goes up a couple more inches.

"It does if he kills him in a duel!" (Y/n) shouts, hoping that'll make this woman to stop killing John. Katia stops and looks over at (y/n), for a moment, then over to the priest. One of them walks over to her and leans in to whisper. "The Old Ways are clear on the matter...but for a duel to be sanctioned by The Table...he would need to be a member of a family...and have a Crest." 

Katia rolls her eyes then turns to look around the room then at John then over to (y/n). "How many did you kill to get out?" Katia asked John. "A lot." John replied, still struggling with the rope pulling at his neck. "You will only have to kill one to get back in. The bastard who murdered my father." She said and (y/n) gasped then looks over at John. "Give me the name." John said.

"Killa Harkan. You will find him at Himmel and Hölle. When he's dead, I will mend your ticket." Katia said. "And the Crest?" John asked her. "Harkan first, then we talk. Bring proof of death." Katia said and she gestures with her hand and the man releases the crank and John falls to the ground.

"John!" (Y/n) said, concerned, as the men let her go and she runs over to him. "You okay?" She asked him, in a whisper, and he nods before he turns to Katia. "I'll need a way in." John said and two men came up to John, picked him up and placed him on the chair. "I know a way. Klaus will take you." Katia said and an older man with tattoos over his face, lip piercings and a gray beard with long slicked back hair comes up to John and (y/n).

"I am Klaus." Klaus said and he hits John across the face with his cane. (Y/n) yelps in fear as John recoils from the impact then looks up at Klaus. "John." He greets. "I am Klaus." Klaus said again before he strikes John across the face again. "Stop it!" (Y/n) shouts at Klaus before he turns to her. "I am Klaus." He said again and he hits her across the face with his cane.

[spenglerssweetheart]

How about the reader(perhaps female or gn) having strong arms, helping Ray picking up heavy equipment here and there, unaware of Egon's impressed gaze, silently going "AWOOGA!" on his head XD

It'd funny seeing Egon simp on the reader the way we simp for him.

Idk why this req made me really excited and AHHH !

—————————

Woah

Pairing- Egon Spengler x Fem! Reader.

Description- as above in request.

Warnings- None ? (If I miss anything pls let me know!!)

Busy days at headquarters we’re almost never great. With things always happening one way or another. Today was going good so far as they haven’t really had any major calls. Only Ray was busy moving things in and out of headquarters.

“Move it right there, that should be good” Ray said as he instructed Y/n, an old friend of his. He had gotten more things for everyone, some to make modifications to the ecto-1 and to add stuff into the lab. “Is right here good?” Y/n asked as she picked up another heavy box full of things. “Ah- Actually move that one right here, sorry Y/n” Ray replied as he helped Y/n.

Coming down the stairs were Peter and Janine, seeing the girl lifting the boxes and such. Glancing at each other, they continued down the steps before she turned to see them. A small huff leaving her lips as she recognized Peter. “Hi Pete” She smiled and he looked confused “I’m sorry, do I know you?” He responded as he pointed to himself. “Dorky freshman in your college class?” She replied as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Y/n? I didn’t recognize you, I thought you moved out of state” “I did but I decided to come back, and I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty” she grinned as he had started to move towards her. Ray only watched with a smile before clearing his throat. “I should get back to uh helping, but we should catch up later” Y/n trailed off before turning back to Ray, helping him pick up a large box.

Janine turned to Peter “Who’s she?” She asked with curiosity as she eyes the girl up and down. “An old college friend of mine and Ray’s. Why, you jealous?” He teased as Janine gave him a blank stare “I mean, She could be some great help around here, since you promised me you’d hire more help” “I’ll think about it” Peter responded to Janine before walking back into his office, only peeking out at times to catch a look at Y/n.

Hearing the commotion, Winston and Egon come down from their designated spaces as they looked around for the source, stopping place when a dark curly haired girl passed in front of them in a blur. Looking over to Ray, they saw he was talking to said girl. Winston simply shrugged and went back to where he was, Egon on the other hand couldn’t help but stare.

With the way Y/n looked as she talked to Ray about whatever it was they were talking about. The way her curls were coming loose from the ponytail she had, to the way the sweat glistened on her skin as small muscles tensed here and there. Egon couldn’t help but stare, he was attracted but he couldn’t talk to her. She probably already had a boyfriend, or was possibly dating Ray already.

Blinking rapidly, Egon snapped out of his daze once he really she was directed his way with a slight grin. “ ‘Scuse me, I’m so sorry” She said she passed Egon, going to pick up a really heavy part, acting as if it was the lightest thing in the world. Feeling his cheeks heat up, he moved back a bit as he watched her carry the part to Ray, staring once again.

This time he couldn’t help but notice that the sleeves to her t-shirt had been cut out and cropped while there were some slight rips in her jeans. As she walked past once more he noticed way her muscles flexed when she walked and continued holding the part with such ease. (sleeper build go crazy).

Watching as she set the part down, he saw how her t-shirt had lifted once she stood, showing off her abs, still not out of his daze. With a small cough, Peter was now beside Egon with a smug smirk on his face as he glanced between the Y/n and Egon.

“Whatcha starin’ at Egon?” Peter asked with that leading tone. Clearing his throat, Egon glanced at the ground before at Peter “Nothing Peter. Nothing at all” “you’re such a terrible liar, y’know that?” He laughed as he patted his shoulder. “You should go talk to her, she seems nice” Peter told Egon before he walked away.

Glancing back, he noticed Y/n and Ray were gone. He sighed with a little disappointment as he made his way back up the stairs and into the lab where he was working before. Meanwhile, Y/n and Ray had gone outside to smoke a cigarette. Standing against the wall, y/n looked around her. “It’s still so odd to be in New York” she huffed as she looked over at Ray who was also looking around.

“I forget you aren’t from here. We’ll do you like it so far?” Ray asked her as he passed her the cigarette, watching as she placed it between her lips. “It’s alright, but it’s not like where I grew up. Like the country was so much more simpler than the city” Y/n replied, blowing out the smoke she inhaled.

“I get it. After this, you wanna get inside and shower, you are a mess and I know how you get” Ray grinned as he got the cigarette back. “Oh I would kill for a shower right now. Do you remember where I left my backpack, I swear I bought an extra pair of clothes.” She asked as she began heading inside to look for her bag.

Following her in, she had found it before Ray began to lead her up to the showers, passing the lab that Egon had so happened to not be in. As Ray had gotten ahead of Y/n, he gently knocked on the closed bathroom door. They waited for a bit as Ray had heard a bit of movement in the bathroom before the door had opened slightly fast.

Clearing his throat, Egon glanced at Ray before seeing Y/n right beside him looking around. Catching side of her, his face quickly became flushed as he stepped aside so they could enter, only it was Y/n entering as he had become so flushed in the moment, Ray had began to walk away. “My apologies” Egon exclaimed before he rushed off to the lab once more.

Y/n could only laugh quietly. She had that kind of affect on people, but she never really noticed till now. Before she made her way into the bathroom, she thought for a moment before making her way in and setting her things down. Undressing rather quickly, she turned on the shower, before getting in. Spending her time thinking as she showered.

—

After her shower, she exited the bathroom fully dressed with the towel around her neck as she had been drying her hair that way. As she walked out of the bathroom, she looked around with curiosity before going in the direction she came from, passing the lab. Poking her head in she didn’t see anyone before she continued going down the stairs, stopping once she heard a few voices. Only two being familiar, the other three she didn’t know.

“All I’m saying is, she could be some great help around her. Plus it would be nice to have another girl around here” A feminine voice said. Sitting down to listen, she was quiet with her movement being extra careful. “With another thing I should add, Egon things our good friend Y/n here is attractive and he could have a potential crush. Maybe I could set them up, or should I keep her to myself” She heard, Peter.

Rolling her eyes she sat back and listened. “I don’t know guys, she just moved down here. I’d have to talk to her. She was literally here just to help me move these things for you guys, because I knew some of you would be busy or flat out wouldn’t. Just let me talk to her and we’ll see” She heard Ray explain before more footsteps going around.

Standing up, she had seen the same white coat from earlier coming up the stairs. continuing to go down and act like she didn’t see him, she accidentally bumped shoulders with him. “Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there” She exclaimed as she felt his large hands on her arms, guessing to hold her so that she wouldn’t fall.

“Are you alright? I apologize” Egon said, looking anywhere at her before realizing the hold that he had on her. If it was possible, his face and ears had warmed up even more than usual before he had let go, making a small laugh leave Y/n��s Lips. “I Uh never got caught your name dear” Y/n said softly as she held her arm out to shake. “It’s okay I don’t bite” She grinned before Egon took her hand.

“I’m Egon…Egon Spengler” He replied slowly, still rather nervous about her. She could only smile at how he was reacting, she thought it was cute. “I’m Y/n L/n, I uh grew up with Ray and went to university with Peter.” She explained. Though it may not show she was actually really nervous, but she was able to make it seem like she was perfectly fine.

“Makes sense as to why the guys made such a fuss about you being here” Egon explained, finally looking down at Y/n. With a quirk of her brow, she grinned and tilted her head. “How big a fuss did they make?” She asked as he began leading her up to the lab. “Quite a huge one, I thought they were going to throw a big party”

“Glad they didn’t.” She responded, looking around once again. “Why? Do you hate them?” He asked out of sheer curiosity. “I loathe them. I don’t see the reason to y’know throw a big thing for something so little. I prefer being alone reading or painting or something “ she explained before realizing she was over sharing.

“Sorry, I tend to talk on and on and I don’t realize until I’m done” she apologized as he had led her into the lab. “Woah” She gleamed as she looked around the lab. Seeing all kinds of funguses and studies, she walked around, looking closely at the jars Egon had organized. He was genuinely impressed, with a slight raise of his brows and the little parting of his lips, he watched her movements carefully as she had stopped at an unmarked jar, watching as her eyebrows furrowed and her lips formed a thin line.

“What’s this one?” She asked as she looked over, her finger gently tapping the glass. “I hav- I haven’t named it or at least figured it out yet” He stuttered out after being caught staring. “It’s lovely, is it safe?” She asked, Egon now walking over to stand beside her “I only logged the growth and such, I’ve never really taking the risks to take them out unless really necessary” He concluded

“Makes sense” she agreed, her eyes never leaving the glass jar. She was fascinated by its beauty and Egon just so happened to be fascinated by her. Maybe they have a few things in common after all.

I seriously wasn’t sure if I should add more or not but it’s been like three weeks and I’ve been adding little by little. I’m scared I’m gonna get hit with writers block because of how busy I been. I swear my lovelies I am not ignoring requests, things take time.

I hope you lovies enjoyed reading and hope to read some more. I hope you have a great morning/afternoon/evening. I love you! Bye!

[queenlucythevaliant]

When Lucy returned to school for the spring term, Peter sent a war poem. It dropped from the crease of his letter into her lap, as unexpected as a firebomb.

“On Receiving News of War,” the title read, and Lucy’s heart lurched. She was sixteen and Peter was twenty-one. The war had ended three years ago and he had only been a British soldier for a matter of months before he was discharged. Now, this poem came: words from the Last Lot, the 1914 war. Lucy picked up the loose page and read.

ON RECEIVING NEWS OF THE WAR

Snow is a strange white word;

No ice or frost

Have asked of bud or bird

For Winter's cost.

Yet ice and frost and snow

From earth to sky

This Summer land doth know,

No man knows why.

She looked up in shock. What did Peter mean in sending this? Was it only that it made him think of their first days in Narnia, white and frozen under the White Witch’s curse? He could not have missed the title. Lucy worried her lip between her teeth, considering. Her brother did not often use words idly.

Red fangs have torn His face.

God's blood is shed.

He mourns from His lone place

His children dead.

O! ancient crimson curse!

Corrode, consume.

Give back this universe

Its pristine bloom.

Oh. Yes, alright. That made a certain kind of sense. And there, at the bottom of the page, was a single line writ in Peter’s hand. “Variations on a theme,” he had written, “only I’m not yet certain what theme it is. Do you have an idea?”

Several, in fact. Lucy’s mind lit up in an instant, all a-whirl with memory and typology. She wasn’t a child any longer, and in small bits her many battles came back to her. Peter, she was sure, remembered even more of Narnia’s wars.

Yet Lucy remembered the ice of Lantern Waste on the first day as though no time had passed at all. She remembered the crimson of Aslan’s blood. She remembered the thaw. In her mind, those things had nothing and everything to do with Britain’s last war. Nothing: the two worlds were as different as King Arthur and Winston Churchill. Everything: because maybe Arthur and Churchill were not so different after all.

That night, after a trip to the library and with a book of poetry on her desk, Lucy composed her reply. “Another variation,” she wrote, and carefully copied out the lines.  

All the dead kings came to me

At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming,

A few stars glimmered through the morn,

And down the thorn the dews were streaming.

And every dead king had a story

Of ancient glory, sweetly told.

It was too early for the lark,

But the starry dark had tints of gold.

The poem was called “The Dead Kings.” Peter was not dead, but Lune was and Cor was. Caspian was. It was easy to imagine them appearing in the trenches and whispering their stories into the ears of British soldiers.

“Caspian would have liked the notion, I think,” Lucy said thoughtfully.

Peter leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Yes. Come to think of it, I rather like it myself. If I were the dead king, I mean.”

“It’s strange—I think these were meant to be sad poems, the way they were written. The world unwillingly cursed and the ancient kings dead. Yet when you apply it to Narnia, I don’t think it’s terribly sad at all. Maybe a little melancholy, but hopeful too. Like I know something that the poet doesn’t.”

“You do know something that the poet doesn’t,” answered Peter.

“I mean about war and dying and all. It’s all so distant for me, you know? And yet I often suspect that I know secrets that some men who actually fought couldn’t guess at. The hopeless men, maybe. In Narnia it was all more beautiful. Having lived there elevates even war and death, in this world.”

“We were, both of us, soldiers once.”

Lucy nodded.

“How about this one, then?” Peter shoved his book across the table, nearly upending the cream along the way.

The drab street stares to see them row on row

On the high tram-tops, singing like the lark.

Too careless-gay for courage, singing they go

Into the dark.

“Simple,” said Lucy. “Singing on the way to war is courage. Singing in the dark is just about the bravest thing a person can do. Just because these boys go into the battle without knowing what it’s really like doesn’t make them any less brave for going, or for singing.”

“You would know,” her brother smiled fondly.

With tin whistles, mouth-organs, any noise,

They pipe the way to glory and the grave;

Foolish and young, the gay and golden boys

Love cannot save...

“It makes me think of Susan,” Peter murmured.

“I can see that. Our love cannot save her, only Aslan’s.” Lucy frowned thoughtfully.

“No, no—I mean I wonder if that’s how Susan thinks of us: foolish children still playing games where singing in the dark means anything at all. Gay and golden, but naïve and careless by the same token. Too caught up in notions of courage and glory to realize that we live in a world where good people die.”

“Oh Peter, you don’t really think?”

“She told me once she’s afraid that we’ll never grow up, did you know? I wondered if she meant that we would always be like children, or if she worried we might die young. Sometimes I still wonder.”

“It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” said Lucy. “To always be child-like, or even to die young. Not by half.”

Peter snorted. “You might not mind dying young, but I’d certainly mind it. You’re my little sister, Lu. If you die young, it means I’ve done something wrong.”

“Well of course I’d mind! There are so many things I mean to do once I’m grown up. But I’ve always thought—ever since Father Christmas handed me that dagger—that I might. As long as I died for something, it wouldn’t bother me. I think I could be a rather good martyr.” She winked across the table.

“Don’t you dare. If Aslan has short lives in mind for either of us, we’ll drink what we’re given. In the meantime, let’s both of us focus on growing up well.”

The next week, Lucy went with Marjorie Preston to the mail room. It was Marjorie’s birthday and she was expecting a parcel from home, but Lucy was also privately hoping for another letter from Peter.

An abundance of riches awaited Marjorie: an enormous box that the two of them had to lift together. Thus, Lucy tucked Peter’s letter under one of the box’s flaps as they carried it, and it was Marjorie who tore open the envelope when they reached the dormitories.

“What in the world is this?” Marjorie exclaimed, waving a poem under Lucy’s nose. Lucy snatched it away and hungrily read the words, considering how this variation fit Peter’s theme. Then, she noticed that Marjorie was still beside her, tapping her foot impatiently.

“My brother sends me war poems,” Lucy explained hurriedly.

“That’s strange.”

“Do you think so?” Lucy considered. “Well, no matter.”

WAR GIRLS (here Peter had added “& VALIANT QUEENS”)

Strong, sensible, and fit,

     They're out to show their grit,

   And tackle jobs with energy and knack.

     No longer caged and penned up,

     They're going to keep their end up

   Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.

"Does he mean you?" asked Marjorie, wrinkling her nose.

Lucy laughed, but didn't dispute it. She went to fetch some paper and a pen.

On they went for the next several months, passing poems back and forth in their letters. Some of them were hopeful and some despairing, some sad, some darkly funny. It was a dialogue in a war that Peter scarcely remembered, and Lucy even less. In time, Tennyson and others from before the Last Lot worked their way in. Even Shakespeare made an appearance with several selections from the Henriad. Spring lurched into summer which tumbled into fall. Peter turned twenty-two in August and Lucy was seventeen in November.

Then, at dinner at Professor Digory’s house one night, the specter of a Narnian king appeared before them. Before they left, Peter found the poem he was thinking of in the Professor’s study and gave it to Lucy.

Horror of wounds and anger at the foe,

And loss of things desired; all these must pass.

We are the happy legion, for we know

Time's but a golden wind that shakes the grass.

“Does it feel different this time?” he asked once she had read it.

“Yes,” replied his sister, “and no. It feels obscurely like it did the night Aslan died. Like something is hanging over us.”

“I think this is the end,” Peter said bluntly. “He said we wouldn’t ever go back to Narnia, yet here we are. It feels like the end. Do you remember what it was like the night before a battle?”

“Yes. I didn’t before, but I do now. Like we had to gather up everything inside ourselves and name it. Fear and courage, love and memory.”

Peter sighed. “We ought to get going. There might be ice on the roads tonight.”

Lucy went into the closet and fetched her coat. Peter followed, moving a fraction slower than usual.

“Peter?” Peter turned and looked at Lucy, who was standing in the doorway with her fur-trimmed collar turned up around her throat. “It was a good poem, Peter. The right poem. Time’s but a golden wind that shakes the grass…”

Golden. Golden like Aslan’s mane, which they both so dearly longed to touch once more. Lucy tossed the poem round and round in her mind all that evening.

Before he and Edmund left for London, Lucy slipped an envelope into Peter’s pocket. “Read it on the train,” she told him.

Peter nodded. “I have one for you too.”

It was the last conversation they shared in the Shadowlands, though neither knew it at the time.

When Lucy unfolded her poem, she recognized the words. It was her favorite war-poem, which she’d first sent to Peter months ago when their correspondence had begun.

Sombre the night is:

And, though we have our lives, we know

What sinister threat lurks there.

But hark! Joy—joy—strange joy.

Lo! Heights of night ringing with unseen larks:

Music showering on our upturned listening faces.

It almost made her want to giggle, how well Peter knew her. Lucy thought of him and Edmund together in London; she ached for Susan, who had chosen not to join her siblings in their last battle for Narnia. She breathed in deep and thought of music on the way to war.

Death could drop from the dark

As easily as song—

But song only dropped,

Like a blind man's dreams on the sand

By dangerous tides;

Like a girl's gold hair, for she dreams no ruin lies there,

Or her songs where a lion hides.

That last couplet was wrong. Peter had changed it. The poem ended with, A girl’s dark hair and kisses where a serpent hides, but Peter had written gold and lion instead.

When Peter unfolded his own poem on the train, he found only a single stanza, annotated on nearly every line.

It didn’t pass— (His will be done) it didn’t pass-  (His will be done)

It didn’t pass from me.

I drank it when we met the gas  (His will be done)

Beyond Gethsemane! (His will be done)

The train halted and the whistle blew. Peter shook Edmund awake beside him, and together they went to unbury the rings.

 .

 Poems referenced: “On Receiving News of the War,” Isaac Rosenberg; “The Dead Kings,” Francis Ledwidge; “Joining the Colours,” Katharine Tynan; “War Girls,” Jessie Pope; “Absolution,” Siegfried Sassoon; “Returning, We Hear Larks,” Isaac Rosenberg; “Gethsemane,” Rudyard Kipling

[honeygrahambitch]

A soft hannigram fic for a lazy Saturday

*

"There's a van." Will said looking through the window. "Hannibal, there's a van in front of our house."

"Is it now, darling?" He replied casually as he turned the page of the book he was reading, not even shifting his attention to Will who kept moving from one window to another.

"Yes, it's a van. Why aren't you-" Will started but noticed that Hannibal wasn't paying attention to him so he walked to his armchair and removed the book from his hands like a spoiled kid who needed attention. "Why aren't you concerned about this?"

Hannibal lifted his eyebrows and rested his back against the armchair, his lips slightly curling upwards. The gesture only made Will lose his mind more. "Who else knows about our location? This better not be one of your games."

"Why are you so distressed, Will?"

"Why are you so annoying today, Hannibal?" He replied as he frowned and shook his head in confusion. "We've been living here for a month and no car has ever come all the way to our place. But you are not worried because this is one of your games." He said more to himself as a conclusion.

"Should we check out the van then, Will? To make sure that this game of mine is not endangering?" He asked, grinning only to piss off Will even more.

"You are the end of me." Will murmured and headed towards the entrance.

"Love you too, honey." Hannibal replied as he got up and followed him outside.

They both stopped in front of the mysterious van as Will frowned more at the sight of the driver.

"Chiyoh." Will said as he looked at Hannibal as if he needed him to confirm.

"Indeed. I suggest we look inside." Hannibal added as he put his hand on Will's back and guided him towards the back of the van.

Will was so skeptical that he said nothing. Was Hannibal going to push him inside and then have Chiyoh drive away? He had thought their relationship was going well since they fell off the cliff.

"Go ahead." Hannibal gestured towards the backdoors of the van.

"I didn't even get to grab my gun." Will murmured as he grabbed the handles of the backdoors and pulled them open.

Hannibal took a step back in order to observe the whole scene properly.

Will froze.

However, he didn't have too much time to contemplate the view as he was pushed to the ground by his family of strays.

All his dogs were there, licking his face and biting his clothes playfully, making a big mess out of himself who still hadn't had the chance to let it all sink in.

His family of strays was here. All of them. Hannibal had brought all of them to their hiding spot. He made all of that happen.

Hannibal's smirk turned into a smile as he listened to Will's laughter. It wasn't a sound he was used to and it made something inside him shift.

"You did this?" Will asked as he managed to get up, too overwhelmed to be able to form longer sentences.

"Two nights ago you said you were missing your dogs. I didn't want you to miss anything, Will."

"But you don't particularly like them." He added as Winston kept licking Will's hand.

"I have come to terms with the fact that they are your family and they make you happy." He replied as he took a step back when one tiny dog tried to lick his hand.

"Hannibal...thank you." Will murmured, still a bit too overwhelmed to process everything. "I hope you are aware that you are my family too."

"I hoped you would say that." He addmited and closed the space between them as he caressed his cheek with one hand. He had always considered Will his family but hearing Will confirm that erased all his doubts.

"You make me happy." Will whispered as he cupped his face and kissed him softly.

The End