by two of his uncles

Caught In The Act

Word Count: 855
Author: Ashlyn
Request: “Hey you should do a getting caught in the act preference it would be so good”
Warnings: smut
Notes: N/A

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Enjoy some pirates :)

Matelotage Chapter Two

Harry runs into his Uncle and discovers some uncomfortable truths about the man he considers his only family.

and the overall fic summary in case people don’t remember

In the aftermath of his ship’s capture by the pirate crew of the Voldemort, Second Lieutenant Potter of the Royal Navy is taken hostage, held ransom for his uncle’s fortune. However, the longer he stays aboard the Voldemort, the more confused Harry becomes about where his duty truly lies. Matters are not helped by the charismatic Captain Riddle, the man responsible for the death of Harry’s parents, a man determined to pry all of Harry’s secrets from him by whatever means necessary.

Enjoy!

Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about how Zuko accidentally spoke against his father and begged for forgiveness, on his knees with tears in his eyes, and got half his face burned off and banished from his home

Then Zuko betrayed his uncle and everything Iroh had ever taught him, begged for forgiveness on his knees with tears in his eyes, and got a hug and complete forgiveness and unconditional love

One Track Mind
  • *221B*
  • Sherlock: *working*
  • John: *sitting in his chair, tapping his leg; bored*
  • Rosamund: *colouring; looks up* What's wrong, Daddy?
  • John: *raises an eyebrow* Have you noticed lately...your Uncle manages to make every conversation about your Aunt?
  • Rosamund: *giggles* Really?
  • John: *nods* Watch *clears his throat; leans around his chair* hey, Sherlock? What time is that client due?
  • Sherlock: *still looking through the microscope* Four thirty. Half an hour before my wife's shift ends.
  • John: *gestures*
  • Rosamund: *happily* Ooh, lemme try *excited* Uncle Sherlock, on the way home from school, I saw a squirrel and- and it runned up a tree!
  • Sherlock: *looks up; smiles* That's nice.
  • Rosamund: ...
  • Sherlock: ...
  • Sherlock: *softly* Molly likes to feed the squirrels. We go to the park especially *goes back to work*
  • Rosmund: *grins at her dad* That's love, bitch.
  • John: ...
  • Rosamund: *goes back to colouring*
Rowaelin’s daughter x Feysand’s son fic Part V

Sadly, friends, this is the last one. Thank you for coming on this journey with me, and meeting and shipping Sastiel as hard as I did. I cry now.

Check out Part I, Part II, Part III and Part IV.

*****

Seraphine walked behind Kastiel in silence, her wolf following behind her.
It felt like a lifetime ago when Fenrys had given her Fen as a pup. Now he was as big as she is.
She patted down the scruff of his fur, murmuring how good he is when she felt Kastiel’s gaze land on her.
“We’ll train here,” he said.
Seraphine looks around at the vastness of her surroundings. Kastiel wanted to train early—so early in fact, that the sun had barely even risen. She had been given a thick set of Illyrian leathers to wear (despite her telling Kastiel that she didn’t feel the cold), and a ridiculous amount of daggers were now strapped to her body.
“It’s more for my peace of mind,” was his only reply.
Now they were at the snow capped mountain side, with no one around them.
This was dangerous any way you look at it.
“Scared, Seraphine?”
“Only of what your family will do after I’m done with you.”
The two circle each other—neither looking away from each other’s gaze. “No powers. I want to see you fight,” he says.
As she pulls out a dagger strapped from her hip, Seraphine supposed she should have told Kastiel that she’s more skilled with a knife than her fire.
With a twist of her wrist, Seraphine let fly a hand full of daggers towards Kastiel. He dodged them easily, no hesitations in his steps. Like he was dancing. Whatever training he had gone through—it was perfect—beautiful to watch.
But Kastiel didn’t spend years on the road, fighting bandits, dealing with thugs and dodging assassins—he didn’t know how to fight dirty like she did.
Seraphine rushed towards Kastiel, tackling him to the ground. The soft snow crumbled underneath them. Seraphine held Kastiel in a bear hug, her dagger pressed against the soft spot of his neck as they fell in the small ditch.
Luckily, Kastiel’s strong wings cushioned their fall, Seraphine now on top of him. She couldn’t help but think of how perfectly they fit together—like two pieces in a puzzle. 
She gives him a mischievous smile. “You’re letting me win, princeling.”
Kastiel blocked Seraphine’s dagger with his own, letting both of it clatter to the ground near them.
“I win,” he says, studying her face under heavy lids.
The sun had finally risen, covering the white mountains in shimmering orange. It was almost as if the snow were alight with flames. The view reminded him of when he was younger—when his uncle brought him here.
Kastiel couldn’t stop himself—didn’t even bother trying. He slowly, apprehensively, touched his lips to her temple—like a question.
And Seraphine answered back, sliding her cheek down against his, where his lips touched her closed eyes, and down, down to the sensitive part of her throat, her cheek, her jaw.
Kastiel’s lips found hers.
And the soft feel of them and the hard feel of his body under her made her body come alive from a different kind of fire. And the taste of him, of their kiss deepening, of his hands on her back, his leg between hers, made her ache from a different kind of need.
She couldn’t stop the moan escape from her lips—or the way her body moved yearningly into him.
A familiar male voice cleared their throat, separating Seraphine and Kastiel.

*****

“How disappointing,” his uncle practically purrs, “to find the two of you rolling in the snow, instead of training.”
Kastiel took a moment to collect himself, his scrambled thoughts, his lips on hers. And how they still screamed more, more more.
He ignored his uncle, helping Seraphine to her feet. He was never going to hear the end of this.
“You even had the wolf on guard,” his uncle says incredulously with a shake of his head. “Kastiel, I need you to take care of the monsters. This is an order, little general. I have things to do.”
His uncle gives him a wink, and winnows away, taking Fen with him.
Kastiel lets out a long breath, glancing at Seraphine. Her mouth was tilted up in a secret smile at him, her lips swollen from their kiss, her hair a mess from how he had held her close to him. He reached for her hands, feeling the flicker of the mating bond between them.
Kastiel falters at the touch.
“I have to go back to camp,” he says. “The fire training will have to wait a little longer.”

*****

Seraphine spent her afternoon sitting on a trunk of a large oak tree. She promised herself that she would not think about the kiss they shared—but it was hard for her to not obsess over it. She was perfectly fine sitting under the sun with a sketchbook in her lap, day dreaming about future kisses to come.
Besides, it was pure indulgent to watch Kastiel train a group of Illyrian kids.
She could tell, just by the way he was showing the kids how to wield their stick swords, that he was distracted.
“Stay close,” he had told her, before she decided to ignore him. She wandered the camp aimlessly until she found her spot by the tree.
It pleased Seraphine even more that Kastiel’s eyes kept on looking at the general spot of her vicinity, but he had yet to realise that she was up on a tree.
As he supervised each child’s parry, one particular little boy followed behind him like his shadow. Everything Kastiel did, the little boy was mimicking.
With a smile on his face, Seraphine watched as Kastiel hoisted the boy up in the air—the boys arms and legs flailing helplessly—and said something that made the boy giggle with laughter. She couldn’t help but sketch Kastiel’s face in that moment.
When Kastiel was done, Seraphine leaped from her spot on the tree. They found each other in the middle, and got started on working to control her fire.

*****

“Don’t be scared,” Kastiel told her from behind the door of her suite, “Or else they’ll sense it.” He started pacing. “The only person you have to watch for is my Aunt Nesta—and maybe my Uncle Cassian—they’re very protective of me. But other than that, everybody is nice. You’ll fit right in.”
“Oh, will you stop fussing about,” Seraphine says as she opens her door. Kastiel’s mouth drop open. Seraphine had changed from her Illyrian leathers to a simple, long silver slip dress that matched her hair. The dress caught in the light every time she swayed her hips.
By the Mother.
Seraphine gave him a timid smile. “I must confess—I haven’t worn a dress since I can remember.”
He shook his head in reply.
The sight of Seraphine undid Kastiel.
“Control yourself,” his father suddenly warned him in his head. But Kastiel couldn’t stop the pull of the mating bond.
The dinner table of the House of Wind were already occupied with the uncomfortable looks of his family—they no doubt sensed it in him. Kastiel pulled out a seat next to his mother for Seraphine to sit, whilst he sat next to her and his uncle Azriel.
“Seraphine, this is my mother and father, High Lady and Lord of the Night Court, Feyre and Rhysand.”
“Please,” his father said, “call me Rhys.”
“And here are my aunts Nesta, Elain, and The Morrigan. And my uncles, Azriel and Cassian.”
Seraphine’s eyes travelled along his family’s faces.
“Honey,” The Morrigan said to Seraphine, “you can call me Mor.”
Kastiel choked on his drink. “Why do I have to call you The Morrigan, when others can call you Mor?”
“Because, Kastiel,” The Morrigan smiled, sipping her wine slowly. “I don’t want to sound old.”
The table erupt in laughter.
“Though Rhysand,” his uncle Cassian interrupts, “you wouldn’t be laughing at what I saw by the mountains earlier this morning.”
The smile in Kastiel’s lips fell.

*****

Kastiel’s dysfunctional family made Seraphine miss her own. She couldn’t believe how long it’s been since she sat at the dinner table to eat a simple meal.
“You’ve gone quiet,” Kastiel whispers in her ear. “Is something the matter?”
Seraphine shakes her head. “I am simply homesick,” she says out loud.
Kastiel’s mother, Feyre, reached for her hand on the table. The gesture surprised her, yet Feyre’s touch was comforting, real—reminding her of her own mother.
“Is there anything that you remember from your past that could help us find your way home?” Feyre asks her.
Seraphine takes a moment to collect her memories, trying to separate the truths from dreams. She had been taken by a group of strange assassins in Erilea. They had captured her, captured her wyvern, captured her wolf, and bound her to a pole in a circular clearing. They were chanting, calling, reciting—it was a sacrifice. She was a sacrifice to the dark pit welling under her. But Seraphine could escape any hold, and so could her wolf. She had shouted at Fen, shouted at him to watch out as an arrow flew towards him. But she blocked it with her back, she fell on her hands and knees from the impact, and she kept on falling, falling into the void, screaming, screaming—
“SERAPHINE.”
The voice that woke her was at once the night and the dawn and the stars and the earth, and every inch of her body calmed at the dominance of it.
“Look at me.”
She did.
Kastiel held her face in his hands, “you’re safe, you’re here, you’re safe with us.”
Seraphine looked around at the table. She didn’t know what she expected—maybe their judgment—but certainly not their faces of awe—at Kastiel, she wasn’t sure—and understanding.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I met this creature, in the forest. It called itself the Suriel. It said to find the ancient one—”
“The Ancient One?” Rhysand interrupted, his violet eyes pinning her to the spot.

*****

Kastiel and Seraphine sat by the ledge in her room. His father had called for his aunt Amren to return from the Summer Court. Kastiel shudders at the thought of facing his aunt after this.
Ever since the dinner, Seraphine had barely said any words to him. He would be lying if he said that her outburst had scared him—had scared his whole family. They were all expecting her fire to erupt.
But it never did—she had controlled it without her even noticing.
“I want to show you something,” he said, gathering Seraphine in his arms, and flying away from the House of Wind.
“The view of Velaris at night cannot compare to any city. But, I think the Sidra River can make you think otherwise.”
Kastiel held Seraphine in silence as they looked out into the sparkling river.
“Is it safe to swim?” Seraphine asked.
Kastiel flew down into the water in answer.

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Blackmail // Mark Lee

Summary: In which the building owner blackmails you into going on a date with his nephew… who turns out to be really cute???

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 3521

A/N: I feel like this title sounds kinda angsty, but I promise that this story is 100% fluff. I had a really good nap the other day, and from this nap, this lil scenario arose so.. yeah, hope you enjoy! :D Feel free to request!

Omg this scenario took so much longer to write than I expected, and it ended up so much longer than I thought it would oh ma lawwwwd. Well, I love Mark Lee, and hope you like this :)

Originally posted by nctmark

“And here… is the kitchen! What do you think?” 

You beamed at your brother, finding it cute how excited he was about the apartment. “It’s great bro, I’m so happy for you.” 

He laughed and said, “Well, don’t be too happy yet. We still have to actually sign all the paperwork. There’s another person apparently coming down to look at it later, so fingers crossed they hate it!” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his statement, and just as you were preparing a sarcastic comment to respond with, there was a knock at the door. You looked towards your brother, questioningly, to which he responded, “That’s probably the building owner.” 

Your brother went to answer the front door, and you followed behind, low-key smoothing your shirt down, wanting to make a good first impression that could hopefully help your brother get the place. He greeted the owner, whose name seemed to be Minjoon, before introducing the two of you. You made sure to be extra nice, remembering all your manners and laughing at all the terrible jokes he made. 

One thing you found out about Minjoon was that he really, really liked to talk. Each time you tried to push the conversation towards the direction of the contracts, Minjoon remembered another story that he just had to tell. You were getting used to his constant talking about himself, so needless to say, you were a little surprised when he asked you what grade you were in. “I’m a senior in high school,” you replied. He nodded thoughtfully, then sat up straighter, a much more serious look on his face. 

“Here’s the thing, I like you guys. I really want to be able to give this apartment to you. However, I already told this person that he could take a look at this house. Since he is willing to pay me more for it, if he says yes to this place, he takes priority.” 

Your brother chewed at his bottom lip, concern clearly painted over his features. You knew how much he wanted to finally move out of your parents’ basement, and he was really hopeful about this apartment. You let out a nervous breath as Minjoon continued: 

“However, I think there’s a way that we can make that all.. go away.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I have a nephew who is around Y/N’s age––sweet kid, a big looker––and I would like for her to go on a date with him. I’ve been bugging him about getting more involved with the ladies, but he keeps avoiding the topic. If not a date, he’s got to at least have some female friends.”

You couldn’t help but gape at the suggestion, disbelief flooding your body. Before you could respond, your brother stated “I’m sorry, but I really don’t believe my sister would feel comfortable with that situation.” You smiled at him gratefully, looking back at Minjoon to see what he would say. 

“It seems I did not make myself clear. If Y/N does not go on a date with my nephew, you have no chance of getting this apartment.”

“I guess I’m not get––”

“I’ll do it.”

Your brother’s head whipped towards you, shocked at your sudden outburst. You gave him a reassuring smile, and whispered, “Don’t worry, it’s just one date.” 

Needless to say, Minjoon was very happy. He gave you all of his nephew’s contact information, and told you when and where to meet him. Before you left, he reminded you that your brother’s apartment was still in his hands, and that if you did not show up to the date, your brother could say goodbye to any chance of getting an apartment any time soon. 

As you left the complex, you turned towards your brother, who had been thanking you ever since you walked out the apartment door. 

“You owe me bro.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

You stood outside the small cafe, nervously fidgeting with your hands. You felt terrible for judging before you met the guy, but the fact that his uncle had to blackmail you into going out with him had you a little worried. You took a deep breath before finally walking in, looking around the busy cafe for any sign of someone who was waiting for you. It took a while before you realized that he didn’t know what you looked like either, so you took out your phone and shot him a text. 

You: Hello? 
???: Hi… 
You: Um… I’m Y/N, the girl who you’re uncle wanted you to meet…
???: Oh, I’m really sorry about that. Are you here?
You: Yeah, I’m at the front of the cafe. 

Your eyes roamed around the room thoroughly, wondering which one of these customers would be the one you were meeting today. You chewed at your lip, your nerves taking over as you thought about what, or who, rather, was in store for you. 

???: Look to your left.

Your head flew to the side, the sick feeling of anticipation growing in your stomach. You had no idea what to expect, and that was kind of scary for you. However, when your eyes landed on the blonde-haired boy in the glasses and the pink hoodie who was waving at you, you were more surprised than anything else. 

He was cute. Scratch that, he was really cute. You walked over to him slowly, almost doubting that this was the person you were supposed to meet. He stood up as you got closer, giving you a bow that you returned. He motioned for you to sit across from him, and a moment of awkward silence passed between the two of you. Not being able to take it anymore, he tried to start a conversation. 

“Um.. I’m going to be honest, I didn’t think you were going to show up today.”

You smiled, “Well, I’m a pretty good sister, so I’m trying to do whatever I can to get my brother into that apartment.”

He winced a bit at your statement, then moved his hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, “yeah, I’m really sorry about that. My uncle can be really crazy sometimes. This is not the first time he’s blackmailed someone into going on a date with me. I keep telling him to stop, but he won’t listen to me…”

You laughed, thankful that the awkward atmosphere was gone.

“By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oops, my bad. My name’s Mark… Mark Lee.”

“Well Mark, if you don’t mind me asking… why does your uncle feel the need to get dates for you? You definitely could get them yourself if you tried.”

Your hand flew to your mouth as your face flushed, shocked that you had let the compliment slip from your lips. His face too turned a rosy pink as he looked down at his clasped hands in embarrassment.

“Thank you for that, but it’s not because I can’t get dates… it’s because I don’t want to.”

Your eyebrow quirked up teasingly at his statement, questioning how he phrased his sentence. He responded by widening his eyes and shaking his head and hands rapidly before justifying himself:

“No! That’s not what I meant! I just meant that I’m not interested in dating any of the girls from my school!”

You couldn’t contain your laughter anymore as you watched the flustered boy struggle to find the right words. He was a little surprised at your sudden outburst, but soon realized that you were simply messing with him.

“Oh…”

When you finally calmed down, you faced him again, genuine curiousity on your face:

“Why aren’t you interested in dating girls from your school?”

“Well, the girls from my school are all really rich and preppy… They always act like they’re entitled to everything, and that’s something that I just can’t stand.”

You nodded your head in understanding before asking another question: “I get that there are some people like that…all the girls though?”

He nodded, “In freshman year, there were still people who were nice and humble, but as we got older, more and more people started to become assholes.”

You broke out in a smile at his choice of words, and you could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on his cheeks. After a short moment, he cleared his throat and spoke again: “So do you want something to drink? My treat since my uncle basically forced you to come here.”

“Iced tea is fine, thanks, but I’m paying next time.”

He furrowed his brows, confusion written on his face, “Next time?”

You smiled at his CUTE reaction, “Yes, next time. You’re pretty okay Mark Lee, I think we’d be good friends.“

This time, you could clearly see the red on his cheeks. After a quick, “I’d like that,” he ran off to pay for the drinks, leaving you with an amused smile on your face.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Yo, yo, yo, Mark Lee!” you yelled out playfully as he walked over to your table. He rolled his eyes at your loud greeting before sitting down across from you.

After your—surprisingly successful—date with him a few months back, the two of you became inseparable. His uncle was happy, which meant your brother was happy, which meant you were happy, and luckily, you had gained a new friend along the way. Mark Lee was literally the best friend you ever had: he was sweet, caring, funny, a little crazy, and most of all, he knew exactly what to do whenever you were stressed or sad or angry about something. So, it wasn’t too much of a surprise when you found yourself growing fond of the boy, developing more than just platonic feelings for him and his goofy smile. You felt your heartbeat quicken whenever he slung his arm around your shoulder and your breath caught in your throat whenever he laughed. It was really stressing you out, and Mark, being Mark, could totally tell.

“Y/N?…Y/N!”

You shook your head and blinked before finally responding, “Huh?”

Mark chuckled before pressing a finger against your head and giving it a light push.

“You zoned out dumbass. You’ve been really out of it lately…are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded unconvincingly. The problem with Mark being your best friend was that you had no one else to go to to talk about your problems. That meant you had to keep everything bottled up inside, which you weren’t very good at dealing with, and that made you even more stressed out, and well… it just wasn’t great for you. So you decided to try to relieve some of your stress by striking up “theoretical” situations with Mark in hopes that his obliviousness—Thank God for that—would keep him from figuring out you were actually talking about you.

“Actually… well I’ve got a classmate in my homeroom and she’s been talking to me about a problem she’s been having…” you began.

Mark nodded, encouraging you to continue.

“It’s this classmate she has… they’ve been getting to be super close friends, and she’s starting to develop some more-than-friends feelings, if you know what I mean… And well, she’s so stressed out about it that it’s got me stressed out. What do you think I should tell her?” 

You bit your lip, awaiting his answer. He hummed thoughtfully before responding: “Well, what’s keeping her from telling him?”

“She doesn’t want to ruin their friendship. They’ve got a good thing going right now.” 

“Ah, I see. Well, that’s totally understandable, but if she really likes him, shouldn’t see tell him? He might like her too!” Mark beamed. 

His bright optimism was so infectious that you found yourself smiling too. Unfortunately, if also caused you to realize that if your confession caused you to lose him, you wouldn’t be able to live. You needed Mark in your life, so you selfishly kept your feelings to yourself.

“Thanks Mark, I’ll tell her…”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“I’ll get it!” you screamed when the doorbell rang. You rushed downstairs, expecting the package you ordered a week ago, but instead, you found Mark Lee. Unable to contain your disappointment, you let a small pout form on you face as you moved aside to let him in. 

“You’re early.”

“Yeah, and you don’t seem too happy about it.”

You shook your head before smiling brightly at him, “Sorry, I was just expecting my package to come today. But instead I got you,” you teased. 

Mark stuck his tongue out at you before replying, “You love me.” 

You laughed bitterly at his statement, him not knowing just how true it was. Just as the two of you were about to make your way upstairs, your parents came in the room. 

“Mark!” They exclaimed excitedly. Ever since the two of you became friends, your parents have loved Mark. They thought he was incredibly kind and sweet, and they were right about that. They actually often told you how perfect of a boyfriend he would be, and would drop hints whenever he was around to embarrass you. It was terrible. 

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N!”

“Well, you just keep getting more and more handsome every time I see you, doesn’t he Y/N?” your mother questioned. 

“Mom~” you whined, your cheeks flushing a light pink. 

“Okay, okay, well you kids have fun alright? We’ll be gone until tomorrow afternoon, so make sure you guys eat your meals and stay safe!” 

You gave both of your parents quick hugs and kisses goodbye before dragging Mark up the stairs to your room. You jumped on the bed as soon as you entered, and Mark followed in suit after placing his bag in the corner of the room. 

“So, what movie do you want to watch today?” you asked, having no clue yourself. After comfortably adjusting himself against the headboard, Mark simply shrugged, to which you responded with a light snort. 

“I guess we’re scrolling through Netflix.” 

After a good 20 minutes of browsing and being totally indecisive, you guys settled on watching “The BFG,” bringing both of you back to your childhood. Watching movies with Mark was basically just an excuse for the two of you to cuddle. He laid propped up against the pillows on your bed, and you snuggled close to him, head on his chest and his arm around your shoulders. It was a position perfectly comfortable for the both of you, but recently, it’s been difficult for you to just focus on the movies you watched. You could hear his heart beating steadily against his chest, and his slow, systematic breathing. You could feel his warmth against your cheek and smell the scent of his cologne off his shirt. You were completely encapsulated with thoughts of him that you didn’t even notice when your eyelids started fluttering close. 

You woke up tangled up with Mark, closer than either of you had even been before. The two of you had fallen asleep together, something that you’d never done before, and during the night, you apparently did some serious cuddling. Your face was pressed in his neck, your lips just centimeters away from his collarbone. His chin rested on top of your head and his arms circled your waist, one hand resting on the small of your back and the other on your hip. Your own arms were wound around his waist, your hands coming into contact with his bare back, where his shirt had ridden up. Your bare legs were tangled between his, and you swore your body was on fire. When you finally had the courage to move, you looked up at his face only to find him dangerously close––and awake. He smiled smugly at you before whispering in his hoarse morning voice, “Morning, beautiful.” 

You immediately felt your face heat up, and you quickly untangled yourself from him. 

“I’m going to wash up,” you stated quickly, before walking to the bathroom and splashing cold water on your face. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Tears streamed down your cheek as you watched the last of the sun disappear along the horizon. Earlier that day, you had found out that your parents had gotten into a car crash, and your dad was still unconscious in the hospital. Your mom was recovering, so the doctors said that you couldn’t visit her until tomorrow. How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly? 

Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t notice a figure taking a seat beside you. He scooted closer to you until your shoulders were touching, and only then did you look up. Well, you could’ve guessed who it was: Mark Lee. As soon as your eyes met his, you broke down, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and sobbing into his shoulder. He met you with open arms and placed gentle, reassuring kisses to the top of your head. 

You don’t know how long you cried, but when you started getting dehydrated, Mark took you bye the hand and pulled you toward your house. 

He gave you water and made you food, and he didn’t get upset or frustrated when you told him you weren’t hungry. He brought you upstairs and let you lay your head on his chest again, and you stayed their until you fell asleep, with him gently stroking your hair and humming sweet songs to you. 

That was the day that you realized you really could not accept just being friends with Mark anymore. 

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

A few days after Mark comforted you, your father woke up, leaving you happy and relieved. You spent all your free time visiting your parents, tending to their every need and making sure they were comfortable. That meant that for the past few days, you didn’t really get to see Mark, and you were starting to miss him a lot. You had already decided that you were going to confess to him, but you just didn’t know when. 

When you mother and father were finally discharged from the hospital, you decided that it was time for you to face your fears and talk to Mark about your feelings. 

You: Hey Mork Leeeeeee~~
Mork: Hey! Look whose alive :P
You: Haha, very funny
Mork: But seriously, how are your parents doing?
You: Much better, thanks, they’re finally home, and the doctors cleared them for daily activity, so that’s a relief. 
Mork: Yes it is.. listen, if it’s okay with you, can we hang out today?
You: Oh, did Markie-poo miss me?
Mark: Yes I did, you dork. Now, meet you at the café in half an hour?
You: See you there. 

You took a deep breath. 
I guess this is it…

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

As you waited in front of the café, you remembered the first time that you stood there. You were even more nervous now than you were then. How in the hell were you going to do this? While you were in the midst of convincing yourself to turn around, run away, and never look back again, your phone rang, waking you up from your thoughts. It was Mark, and he was no doubt wondering where you were. Instead of picking up, you simply walked into the café and made your way to the table where the two of you always sat. 

“Sorry I’m late, I was…daydreaming.”

“Daydreaming?”

“Yes, daydreaming.”

“About what?”

You took a deep breath. It was now or never.”

“Uh… it was kinda about you.”

He nearly choked on his drink, looking at you with a shocked expression. His doe eyes had doubled in size, and you couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly cute like that. “M-Me?”

“You see, remember when I told you about that classmate of mine? Well–”

“You were talking about yourself, and your actually head over heels completely in love with me?”

It was now your turn to be surprised, “Wait Wha-How did you know?”

He chuckled before bringing his face close to yours. 

“You’re pretty obvious, you know. I may be oblivious, but not even I’m that oblivious.”

You blushed hard before shyly asking, “Then why didn’t you say anything?”

Mark only grinned: “I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it first before confessing. You obviously were still dealing with some problems, and I was willing to wait until you were ready for the next step.”

“Wow, what a sweetheart,” you teased, secretly thankful for his thoughtfulness. 

“You know it. Well, now that we’ve both established that we like each other, I would like to officially ask you out on a date.”

You beamed brightly at him, “I’d love to.”

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, it’s time for me to do something I’ve been waiting a very long time to do.”

“And what’s that?”

He suddenly reached across the table, pulling your face closer to his own. You saw a devilish twinkle in his eyes before he pressed his lips on to yours, molding them together gently before separating. A stupid grin appeared on your face as you made the incredibly intelligent comment: “That was nice.”

He laughed wholeheartedly at you then placed a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“There’s plenty more where that came from.”

In which Erwin is the only son of a teacher who is entrusted for teaching imperial family including their knights and Levi is a knight to be, said to be the Ackerman prodigy just as his uncle.
The two get closer each time and Erwin ends up being someone who teaches Levi a lot. Also, during their study session Levi is often distracted to observe Erwin’s face 😂

okay, but Rosie Watson is probably the most over-protected child in the known history. she brings her new boyfriend home, and there are: her father John “I-can-break-every-bone-in-your-body-while-naming-them” Watson, her second father, who introduces himself “I’m Sherlock Holmes and I can tell a rapist in less than five minutes. Just saying.”, uncle Greg with his service weapon, uncle Mycroft with two MI-6 agents and a chopper, and aunty Hudson, skyping with grandma and grandpa Holmes who are very curious about boyfrend’s intentions. 

Rosie, of course, thinks that she is the most miserable girl in the world, because with family like this she will never get laid, but she really is the most loved girl ever

Auston Matthews- Play with me too

Request:  i just started following XD and i have a feeling that your page is gonna be amazing! would it be alright to request and Auston Matthews imagine where he takes y/n back to Arizona with him and all the little kids (like nieces and nephews) love y/n and want y/n to play games with them?

Author’s notes: I have no idea where this went but I’m actually pretty happy with it. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings:

Up next:  Brendan Gallagher

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The Proposal - Sebastian Stan x Reader

Prompt: Sebastian Stan proposing to his girlfriend at Comic-Con with their young son in attendance???? Plzzz
A/N: This one was requsted by @ryleeroseb4 - I hope it’s everything you wnated!

Originally posted by vibraniumdoll


It had been six years since you had started dating Sebastian Stan. Two of those years had been in private, no press hounding you for interviews, no photographers practically stalking you just to get a shot. Those were the blissful years. Then, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Sebastian had been talking about announcing your relationship for a while, but you were happy to only share it with close friends and family. That’s when Sammy came along.

Today was the day your son would attend his first Comic-Con. Not only that, but it just so happened to be his birthday. His dad would be doing a panel that the two of you would attend, he would get to see his Uncle Chris, and even more exciting to him than that – he would meet some of his comic book heroes. You didn’t know this yet, but there was also going to be a nice surprise coming your way.

“Not forgetting anything, are we?” Sebastian asked as you fastened your son’s seatbelt.
“I don’t think so.” you replied hesitantly.
“Great,” he responded as he closed the car door, “let’s get going then!”
You got into the passenger side and made yourself comfy. It was a good few hours before you would be arriving in San Francisco and you were already running late.

The long drive was filled with laughter, singing and excitement. Before you knew it, Sebastian was pulling up at the Convention centre and you were all being ushered into the venue through the side door to avoid being mobbed by crowds. Sammy had insisted on wearing his Spider-Man costume, he was the most adorable superhero either of you had ever seen.

It didn’t take long to find a seat in the greenroom, the first panel of the day was currently taking place and no one else had arrived yet.
“Where’s Uncle Chris?” Sammy asked his dad.
“He isn’t here yet buddy!” Sebastian replied as he scooped his son up into his arms. “He’ll be here soon though.” He smiled.
“Promise?” asked Sammy.
“Yeah, I promise.”
As he spoke the words, the door opened once again. Sammy squirmed in his father’s arms turning his body to see who was walking through the door.
“Uncle Chris!” Sammy screamed, as he wriggled his way down to the ground and ran over.
Chris got down onto his knees and opened his arms, ready to lift Sammy up. “Ooft!” he breathed as Sammy collided with him. He wrapped his arms around Sammy and stood back up. “How’s my favourite little birthday boy?”
“That’s me!” Sammy replied
“Yes it is! Now, I just have one question for you. Why would you be dressed up as Spider-Man when your cool Uncle Chris is Captain America?” Chris asked as he tickled Sammy’s tummy.
Sammy giggled at his Uncle, “Spider-Man is cool!”
“Spider-Man is very cool!” Chris confirmed as they made their way over to where you and Sebastian stood. “But you know who’s cooler?”
“Who?” Sammy asked turning his head on the side and looking at Chris quizzically.
“Your daddy” Chris pointed at Sebastian, making Sammy giggle.

“Hey Chris,” you greeted him as he put your son down. “How are you?”
“Yeah I’m great thanks!” He smiled, pulling you into a hug. “It’s so good to see you again!” Ever since the two of you met, you had instantly become friends. Which was exactly what Sebastian had hoped would happen.
“Okay, okay that’s enough, let go of my girl” Sebastian laughed. “Great to see you man.”
“You too! Chris chuckled as he embraced Sebastian. “You ready man?” Chris asked, beaming from ear to ear.
“Ready as I can be” he replied, glancing at you quickly.
“Ten minutes guys” called one of the event runners.
“Great, thanks” they replied.

“Well, we’d better get going” Sebastian said to you as he kissed your forehead and your son’s cheek.
“And we’d better go find our seats!”  You cooed to your son. “See you out there” you called to the boys as you picked Sammy up and turned to head out of the door and make your way to the main stage.

“Please give a warm San Francisco welcome to our next guests, Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan!” called the man who would be hosting the panel, getting progressively louder as he called each of their names.
The entire crowd erupted with cheers of excitement. “Yay daddy!” called Sammy.
As they walked onto the stage, you could see Sebastian frantically searching the crowd for your face. After a moment or two, you held Sammy up in the air as high as you could whilst he waved. Almost immediately Sebastian spotted him and waved back. You were siting towards the back of the room, once Sebastian had spotted you, you put Sammy back down on his seat.
“Oh my god, did you see that?!” squealed a young girl in front of you, “He totally just waved at me!”
You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at the comment.

An hour had passed by so quickly, Sebastian and Chris had answered a countless number of questions. “Okay and we are almost out of time,” said the host glumly, “Sebastian, Chris, it’s been such a pleasure to have you here in San Francisco!” The crowd went wild at the name of the city.
“We love doing these things and coming here so, thanks for having we, can we come back next year?” Chris addressed the audience. They cheered in unison making Chris erupt in laughter.
“Before we go, I just have one thing I’d like to say,” Sebastian piped up. “Sweetie, where are you?” He asked, as he stood up – knowing full well where you were. You took a moment before actually standing up. “Can you come here please?” He asked. You gave him your signature ‘what the hell are you doing’ look before making your way towards him, telling Sammy to stay in his seat. You were halfway towards the stage when he jumped down into the isle, leaving his microphone on the stage. You continued walking towards him and him you, to meet in the middle.
“Trust me.” He mouthed.

Once you met in the middle, you were the first to speak. “What’s going on?”
It was at this moment Sebastian poured his heart out to you. None of the audience could hear what he was saying, but as he dropped down to one knee, there were gasps, cheers, and even tears from the crowd.
“Oh my god” you gasped as he pulled a ring out of his pocket.
“Will you make me an even happier man than you already do and marry me?” He asked.
You were so shocked, you hadn’t suspected a thing. “Of course I will, I love you” you whispered.
Sebastian’s smile grew wider than his face as he stood up to place the ring on your finger.
“I love you too” he whispered, firmly planting a kiss on your lips.
“Gross!” you heard a small voice behind you. Sammy had followed you down towards the stage.
The two of you laughed as Sebastian bent down to pick up his son. The three of you then made your way back towards the stage, Sebastian with Sammy in one arm, and you in the other. You made your way around the back of the stage and into the green room. As you walked away, everyone clapped. A few people cheered when you walked past. Before exiting the stage fully, Sebastian had passed Sammy over to you and the two of you had left the room, that’s when Sebastian went to pick up the microphone he had left.
Picking it up, he chanted “Thank you San Francisco!” raising his arms in the air and continuing to walk off the stage.

  • What she says: I'm fine.
  • What she means: Why do we never speak about the fact that we don't know what happened to Benvolio after Act III. His last fucking line is "This is the truth, or let Benvolio die." and fucking Shakespeare decided that it would be a great idea to let him out of the play and never speak of him again. He DIED in the Q1 and we never are told how, Lord Montague simply says "and young Benvolio is deceased too." Even though in Q2 at the final scene it says "Enter Lord Montague and others" it is never openly said if he entered along with his uncle or not. His two best friends died, one in his arms and the other was his cousin; he was left alone and Shakespeare didn't even bother tell us his fate. Why couldn't he give him the happy ending he deserved? Why didn't anyone listen to him? Why? There would have been way less death that way.

bagofgroceries  asked:

Dearn Seanan, I met you a year? Or two? ago at a convention in Dallas. I have the tattoo of An Artificial Night on my leg, you took a picture with me after the Q&A, you helped me with my lipstick before taking a picture with me, gave me a hug after you noticed how close I was to having an anxiety attack. I could see in your face you knew the man with me was the cause in the way he talked to me & it obviously angered you. I want you to know on Saturday I am finally leaving him. (1)

“(2) thank you so much for  caring about a stranger, it’s been a long time and I lost the picture due to a phone issue but it meant so much to me and was evidence that I couldn’t ignore about him. I will have a friend with me to help me stay the course, along with my father and two military uncles out front listening in case he lays his hands on me or her. I’m scared, but I’m also hopeful and so ready.”

I am so fucking proud of you.  Like, genuinely and utterly proud of you.  That is not an easy thing to do, and it is going to make your life so much better.

The next time I’m in Dallas, please, please come and get another hug, and another picture.  This time one you can remember joyfully.

So proud of you.

What messes me up the most, is that if Nevillie Longbottom had been the chosen one, Dumbledore would have only sent one Hogwarts acceptance letter to Harry.

Huntress- Part 18: Legacy

Sam x Daughter!Reader, takes place in S12 E18 so warning: SPOILERS

Part one
Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen
Part Fifteen
Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen


You watched as Uncle Dean walked into the room, he’d called Cas about fifteen times this week and still nothing. Dad walked in from the other entrance, holding a load of papers and articles. You all sat at the table, “Still no word from Cas?” Dad stated the obvious,
“Nothing.” Uncle Dean huffed. He picked up his guns and began to clean them. You noticed he did this when he was worried.
“He’s Cas. This isn’t the first time he’s just dropped off the map. He’ll be fine.” Dad tried to reassure his brother, who hummed a “Yeah…” in response. 

“Well, I’ve been researching demons. Turns out we have a lot of books on demons.” 
You chuckled.
“But nothing useful for Daegon.”

“Helpful.” You stated sarcastically. You glanced up when a notification appeared on your Dad’s laptop screen. “Huh,” He grabbed Uncle Dean’s attention “I just got an email from Mick…It’s a case.”
“Good.” Uncle Dean replied before wiping the barrel of his pistol.

“Why didn’t he call?” You wondered aloud.

“Some guy called Jarrod Hayes went missing last week in Tomahawk, Wisconsin….Mick say’s this place has a history.

“Meaning…?”

“Well someone went missing every year for some time until it stopped twenty years ago…well, until now.” Dad paraphrased.

“What so it’s like a cycle or something?” You suggested.

“Something like that.”

As everyone was throwing some bags into the back of Baby your Dad stopped you. “You sure you’re okay to come?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” You nodded. You were far too determined to quit.
His eyebrows furrowed sympathetically. “If you want to stop at any point just say.” He paused before adding “Promise?”
“Promise.” You smiled.


The three of you raised an eyebrow at the Sheriff. He was adding the finishing touches to some sort of taxidermy project. It was a little creepy to say the least. You’d taken on Claire’s advice and after managing to convince your Dad to let you tag along as they posed as FBI agents. It was amazing what a little makeup and smart-wear could do.

“You know what I don’t get…” the Sheriff began “Why the fed’s are so interested?” He didn’t look away from his work.
“Just following orders.” Uncle Dean answered in a way that said it wasn’t up for question.
“What can you tell us about the case?” Dad asked after clearing his throat.
“Not much to tell,” the Sheriff picked up some sort of tweezers and began fixing any hair that looked out of place to him “Some kids were hanging out, Jarrod went home and never made it.”
“You don’t seem very worried.” You noticed his casual demeanor.
“If you ask me he bailed. He had it tough you know…real tough.” The Sheriff started to sew something up on the creature.
“Tough?” Uncle Dean raised an eyebrow.
“His Mom left years ago and his Dad…well…lets just say Jarrod fell down the stairs a lot.”

“You knew he was being abused?” You tried not to sound angry.

“We tried to help him, but taking a child away from his parents, even if they’re the evilest people in the world, its hard.” 
You couldn’t argue with him, but you didn’t fully agree either.

Uncle Dean went back to the issue at hand “You said Jarrod was with friends the night he went missing, did any of them say anything?”
“Nothin’ worth repeating….there, ain’t he precious?” The Sheriff sat back from his completed work and did a sort of ‘voila’ pose. You smiled awkwardly, trying to look impressed. 
“Any idea where we can find any of these friends?” Dad wondered.


“Darren Boston? Agents Stark, Martel and Pond.” You held up your badges briefly.
“Ah no…” Darren whispered to himself, tossing his joint to the floor. You picked it back up and handed to his confused face “That stuff’s expensive.” 
Thanks?” He mumbled.
“We uh, we wanted to ask you a few quick questions about the night your friend Jarrod Hayes went missing?” Dad explained.
“What about it?” He huffed.
“The Sheriff said you were with him.” Dad continued.
“Yeah well the Sheriff can suck it. He thinks Jarrod just upped and left this town.”
“And you don’t?” You said curiously.
“I know he didn’t. But the cops aren’t gonna believe me, not if the Sheriff doesn’t. He’s got it in for me.” Darren complained.
“Why?” 
He held up his fag in an obvious manor “Why do you think?”

“So what did happen?” You encouraged him, if he hadn’t told anyone else, which by the sounds of it he hadn’t, he’d be more likely to tell you.
“I tried to save him…” Darren took a deep breath “But the monster got him: Black Bill.”


“Black Bill is a local urban legend…” Your Dad began to explain, but paused when neither you nor Dean were paying much attention. One, you already had the wiki page up on your phone and two, you were starving so food was the priority. The waitress finally cam over with your orders, spending extra long giving your Uncle his so she made sure he saw “the look”. You hid behind your milkshake in embarrassment for him as he winked.
“Focus.” Dad managed through gritted teeth, nudging his brother.
“I am focused! Black Bill, urban legends blah blah what’ve you got?” Uncle Dean clearly wasn’t “focused” but you were too busy reading your own phone to bother saying anything.
Dad coninued “Apparently he has the head of a goat-”
“A goat?” Uncle Dean stopped him “Like mehh a goat?”
“No. The black and white type that goes Moo.” You remarked, earning a bitchface from your Uncle and a smile from your Dad.

“So where are we going with this?” Uncle Dean tried his best to stay on board as he followed the waitress round with his eyes.
“You’re an actual creep.” You looked at him with a disgusted face and he swatted you on the back of the head “What would you know, you’re what, twelve?”
“Old man.” You hissed.
“Baby.” He snapped back.
You stuck your tongue out at him “Fight me.”
“I’d beat your ass.”
“Guys!” Dad drew your attentions back to the case “Focus.”

“Why don’t you two uh, focus on the case.” Uncle Dean didn’t take his eyes off the waitress, who was glancing at him whenever she had the chance.
“Don’t wait up.” He mumbled, slowly getting up from the table “We can just use the colt. Dusts anything.”
“Still, if it fails it’s nice to have a plan B.” You shrugged.
“I’m done with you two and your..logic.” With that he got up and made a beeline for the lady. 
“Oh don’t do the hot coffee thing.” Dad winced in preparation for whatever awful pickup line he was about to attempt.

Uncle Dean whistled a little before smirking “This coffee is hot, almost as hot as-” He then gestured towards her.
You sunk into your chair “Oh please no that was so painful to watch.” 
Cringing you faced away from the pair of them, making Dad chuckle. “Wanna go?” He said, clearly feeling the same.
Definitely.”


After an all-nighter of researching and endless energy drinks, or coffee for your Dad, you were back in the same cafe. Hopefully, Uncle Dean would arrive soon so you could carry on with the case.
You glanced up when the little bell went at the door where he whispered something to her before grinning and heading in your direction. 
He sat down, looking way too proud with himself. “Good night?” Dad asked.
“Why would you even ask that?” You mumbled.
“Awesome. So awesome.” Uncle Dean smiled widely as he looked back over to her taking her jacket off.

“So uh, any idea what we’re dealing with?”
“A satyr.” You said- keen to change the topic.
“A what?” Uncle Dean raised his eyebrows, stuffing his face full of your Dad’s order. 
“Half man-half goat thing, like Mr Tumnus from Narnia.”
“You are such a nerd.” He commented.
“Nerd life is best life.”You shrugged, taking your phone back from him.

“They lead people to the woods for massive orgys and then the Satyr would, quote, “feast on the flesh of his victims until his belly was full to bursting with their moist slippery meat””. 
Uncle Dean slowed his chewing and pushed his plate away “Oh, so now what?”
“We were gonna question Darren…”
“Were going to?” Uncle Dean didn’t like where this was going. 
“Yeah,” Dad nodded “His Mom called to say he never made it home from work last night.”


“Excuse me, Sir. Hi, Agents Stark, Martell and Pond. We’re looking for Darren Boston?”
“Darren?” The man looked puzzled “Is he in trouble?”
“No we uh, spoke to him last night. We just wanted to ask a few follow up questions.”
“No he didn’t actually show up for work today. Sorry I can’t help you any more than that…The last time I saw him was yesterday. Big day today, though. It’s a shame he couldn’t have pulled his load.”
“How come it’s a big day?” You asked.
“See that man over there, he’s the health inspector. They’re trying to shut us down. We can’t afford to upgrade to better equipment.”
“And the owner?” Dad pressed.
“He’d rather play Sheriff.”
“Wait,” Uncle Dean stopped him from saying anything else “You’re telling me Sheriff Bishop owns this plant?”
“Yeah-“ He paused, noticing a man waving for his attention “Excuse me.”

“So…” You sighed, watching him walk away “We talk to the Sheriff.”
Uncle Dean continued “Find our witness who later goes missing.”
Dad finished “Last seen somewhere owned by the Sheriff. Coincidence?”

The three of you walked behind a curtain to reveal racks of meat. It stank and it took any drop of hunger you had out of you. Ew.
“Sheriff.” Uncle Dean cleared his throat. The Sheriff turned round on his heels with his hands half in his pockets “What are you doing here? Still trying to track down Jarrod?”
“And Darren Boston. He went missing yesterday.” You added.
“Geez, first I’ve heard.”
“Sheriff, what do you know about Black Bill?” Uncle Dean went straight to the local legend.
The Sheriff sighed “Parents tell it to their kids so they don’t stay out so late or play somewhere they shouldn’t. He’s like the boogeyman, you know? Ain’t real.”
“You sure about that, a lot of people in this town go missing.” You questioned him furhter.
“Yeah, they work at the plant, get bored and move on.”
“And what about Darren?” Dad tilted his head.
“The kid was drunk, high or both. He’s not exactly a trustworthy witness.”

“Okay, thank you for your time.” Dad thanked him before turning and leaving with you both. Once you’d made it out of the main area you began to discuss the case. “He’s not acting suspicious at all.” Uncle Dean scoffed.
“But how’s he connected to the satyr?” Dad couldn’t get his head round it and neither could.


You stole a few of Uncle Dean’s chips as he grabbed ketchup from the other table, throwing you a suspicious glare as you munched on them. “Did you take some of my fries?” He raised an eyebrow. You shrugged, swallowing. You were about to act all innocent when Dad came into the diner. “Seriously? You can eat after what we just saw?” He looked disgusted at his brother.
He shrugged, taking a bite of his burger. “This is heaven, Sammy.”
You took another chip when he closed his eyes, having a moment with his burger. He then opened one and glanced at you, swallowing before saying “Will you stop.”
“I’ll stop when you run out of chips.” You smiled sweetly.
Anyway,” Dad ignored you both “Did we find anything out?”
“Yeah, all the past victims worked at the factory.” You said after taking a sip of your hot chocolate.
“All of them?”
“Yep. So they must be connected.”

“Must be. What I found is that in the past if you lived here you worked at the plant. The Bishops owned everything. From the factory to the housing. Only, recently they’ve been having to sell things off. Everything except for the factory and their housing estate.” Dad placed a photo in front of you both.
“Damn.” You looked at how posh and defined it was “Now that’s a house.”
Dad’s phone buzzed and he checked the screen “It’s from Mick, he’s wondering how the case is going.”
You didn’t mention anything, but Mick had been acting a little out of character recently. “Tell him it’s going just fine.” Uncle Dean managed between bites.


You flicked your torch on and stayed close to your Dad and Uncle, treading carefully through the estate. As they turned to go different ways, exploring the place, you did so too, walking into the huge kitchen-diner with a door at the other side.
“Dean, Y/N!” Your Dad called, turning your attention away from the backdoor “I’d say we just got lucky.”

You and Uncle Dean came face to face with a huge wooden door- at leas 8 different locks bolting it shut. “I’d say he’s hiding something.” You said, watching as your Dad began to pick the locks.
After a few minutes of fiddling about with them the door swung open to reveal a gloomy looking staircase leading into the dark basement. You descended down in silence, one hand with a torch and the other with a gun.

It was a large-ish room littered with torture devices and blades. You noticed the definite smell of blood and cringed as you shined your torch over the bloody table. The door from upstairs sounded and you froze. The three of you shared a worried look as the footsteps grew loud from the floor above. It must have been the Sheriff.
He crept down the steps, straight towards the three of you. Immediately, you stepped off to the side as not to be the ones at gunpoint. Dean cocked the colt and held it against the Sheriff’s head. “Hey.” He grumbled.

You took the gun from the Sheriff’s grip and held it away from his reaching distance, Uncle Dean hit him against the wall and demanded “Talk.”

“You won’t believe me…” He looked down. You could tell he wasn’t exactly a keen killer. “We’ve got a pretty open mind.” Dad countered.

The Sheriff sighed “My family…we’ve got a secret..Black Bill is us. When we were kids Dad told us about how a monster came to our house and made us rich in return for food.”
“Food?” You narrowed your eyebrows in question.
“Human blood. We made Black Bill up…”
“So who’s the monster?” Uncle Dean questioned.
“Moluch.”

You nodded slowly before saying “The God of sacrifice.”
“That’s right.” The Sheriff nodded sadly. “We starve him until he’ll give us anything we want. In return for some poor son of a bitch’s blood we get rich. But after my Dad died I put a stop to it. I didn’t want to kill anyone, I just wanted to put right what we’d done wrong.”
“So uh, where’s Moluch now?” You asked, peering into the hatch you presumed he’d been in.
“He’s still there. Locked up, hoped he’d starved to death.”
You looked between him and the hatch in confusion “He’s definitely not in here.” You knelt down next to it and shined your torch “Empty.”
“What?” The Sheriff stood up straight and snatched the torch from you, making you sigh. He took a look for himself in fright “No no no…no-” He was cut short by a booming sound from upstairs. 

“Stay down here, I’m going up.” Uncle Dean spoke quietly, holding his gun up more than before. “Dean, there could be a God up there.” Dad scoffed at his brother. “I’m cool.” Uncle Dean held the colt up. You couldn’t help but worry about how much he relied on it.

After a few minutes of silence you left the room and crept up to the top of the stairs, perring round the corners- nothing. “Y/N?” Dad called from the bottom “What are you doing? You don’t have the cult! You don’t even have your gun!”
“I don’t need it.” You said, catching a glimpse of the man following Uncle Dean. You left the steps heading up to the first floor so you were following someone following Uncle Dean. 
Your Dad watched as you turned the corner, glancing back and forth between the Sheriff and following you. “Y/N!” He hissed, well aware you probably couldn’t hear him.

You ducked behind a wall when the man lunged at Uncle Dean, not sure whether to announce to them you were there or stay hidden. The fought until Uncle Dean parried the wrong way, allowing the man room to flip him over the edge of the stairs. He quickly locked the basement door before your Dad could run out. You stayed hidden, watching as he dragged Uncle Dean out of the building, now wishing you had your gun. When you were certain the coast was clear you headed down and unlocked the door. A very disappointed Dad awaited the other side.
You didn’t know what to do. “Next time, bring a gun.” He scolded, heading out of the building before pausing “Where’s Dean?”
“Taken.” You said, taking your gun back from him and holding your mobile up “Or being taken.”
Dad watched your screen, a small blip appearing as it tracked his phone. He sighed “Okay let’s go.”


“Dean?!” Dad called out. You all crept through the factory, weapons at the ready. “I’ve lost the signal but he’s somewhere around here.” You said, looking about for any niches. 
A loud growl echoed throughout the hallways and crates. You all turned, aiming your guns towards the sound, which was a iron door that looked like it could only be opened from this side. You crept towards it, but your eyes averted to the side for a second, noticing a shadowy figure in the corner of your vision. “Right.” You whispered, stepping to the left.
Your Dad glanced at you in confusion before looking past you and noticing what you meant. It was a man with a mask of a satyr- reflecting the fake legend of Black Bill. He lunged at the pair of you, both stepping away from his attack. He then attacked the Sheriff, both of which fell to the floor, wrestling and fighting. The Sheriff tore his mask off and shouted at him “Pete! You’ve got to stop!”
“Don’t act like you care! My whole life I’ve got shit all! The crap!” He kicked the Sheriff away from him and rose, aiming his gun at him “Not anymore. I’m going to be a hero, saving this town,” You watched as your Dad held his gun up “And you’re dea-”
He pulled the trigger, sending Pete to the floor with blood oozing from his wound. You grabbed the colt from him, tossing it at Dad who’d shot the lock. He caught it and swung the door open. You watched as Moluch stared, as if aware of his fate. The gunshot boomed through the metallic structures, ringing off the walls as Moluch’s whole body lit up like lightening coursing through him before he fell away to nothing.

“Colt…” Dad breathed “Dusts anything.”

“You guys should head off.” The Sheriff looked away from his half-brother. 
“Sheriff,” Dad sighed “We can hep clean up and-”
“No this I can do…It’s my legacy.”


“Hey, I’ve been thinking,” Uncle Dean said, putting beers down on the table. He glanced at you before handing you one, making you smile “What’s our legacy? Do you think people are gonna remember us in years to come?”
“No.” Dad stated bluntly, making you chuckle. “Well I mean we’re not exactly the type of people to be written about in the History books. But the people we’ve saved. They’ll remember us and then they’ll eventually fade away too. But that’s okay. Because we left the world better than we found it.”
“Wonder what’s gonna happen to this place,” Uncle Dean asked another “After we’re gone.”
“That’s up to this one.” Dad ruffled your hair “There’s gonna be a next generation of Hunters. We’ve already seen glimpses of it: Y/N and Claire.”

Nodding slowly, as if taking in Dad’s words, Uncle Dean flicked his blade out an began carving something into the table. You leaned to the side slightly in order to read it. “What are you doing?”
“Making our mark.” 
When he’d finished scratching away at the wood you could read it: ‘DW’. You smiled, watching your Dad take his own blade out and do the same. Then, to your surprise Uncle Dean held the blade out to you and smirked. You looked at it, not sure what to say. He took your hand and placed the blade in it for you “Those initial’s aren’t gonna write themselves.”


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Smells Like Teen Drama

Dean x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Language, bitch teenagers (like me).

Tags: @i-am-an-outcast @becaamm

Forever Tags: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot @godh8salyssa @dean-baby-Winchester @straightasdeanwinchester@animexchocolate@fabulouslycassie@lizbeth-loves-bobear @nicolesyneah25 @lemonadegazeelle

A/n: Fun fact. The part with the itch teenager actually kind of happened to me. The last comeback the reader had I said to the girl who was being a bitch. Lets just say I out bitched her. The bullying thing were things I went through too as a kid.


Your entire life was spent looking up to people who you saw as prettier or of better human quality than you. Having issues with your physical and spiritual appearance was your forte.

There were the kids at school. Who picked and pulled at the little tightly wound curls resting on your head. Saying you were ugly and different because your hair wasn’t straight like there’s. To fix the issue, you asked your single parenting father to straighten your hair.

“I want to be like them daddy.” You’d say while looking in the mirror. Attempting to flat iron your 7 year old hair with a straightener that was off.

In middle school you were one of the few kids who didn’t wear any form of makeup. Uncle Sam and Cas had been building up your confidence over the summer between 5th and 6th grade. But no amount of love could’ve helped with the daily challenges you faced.

Teenagers and pre-teens alike would poke at your face. Making fun of the unruly amount of freckles it held on the surface. The nickname “polka dots” became how people remembered you. As though they need a small reminder of you and the mane of curls wasn’t enough.

It seemed as though everyday of your junior high days was spent with a hood on and a face hanging low. The second Dean noticed this he pulled you out.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me you were having problems?” Dean was crouched down to your level. Brushing away each crooked tear that fell from your green and brown eyes and simultaneously cleaning the fistful bruising that hugged your eye.

“I thought you would be mad at me.” You looked up into his eyes, watching as they released a tear at the sight of his bruised child. “It’s okay, Daddy.” Reaching up, you wiped his tear away and pulled yourself into his chest.

When high school came around you were far from ready to deal with people. Especially teenagers. They were royal dicks. So rather than sending you to a public school, you and Dean talked about straight homeschool. Which worked out well. You got to attend hunts more often. Of course you weren’t allowed to help too much, overprotective dad and such. Life had been dialing back to normal for you. Well- as normal as it could be for a Winchester. Up until now.

You, your dad, and Uncle Sam pulled up to a house. All of you were going to go inside and do the normal routine. Ask questions. Anything weird. Blah blah blah.

Three teenage girls sat on the porch. Glaring at you and then talking to one another before smiling happily.

“Dad, I think I’ll stay in the car.” You said, all the while never breaking eye contact with the small bundle of girls.

“What? W-” Sam nudged his brother mid sentence. Directing his attention to the girls who were too judgmental for their own good. “They’re not going to say anything to you.” Your dad sighed out with sympathy.

“They don’t have to…” you broke the eye contact you had with them before turning your head completely away from the window.

“You really think some petty teenage girl is going to say anything even remotely offensive when two big guys with guns are with you?” Your Uncle had his arm drooped over the black leather seat. Making it so he was looking right at your hanging face.

“Teenage girls are mean.” Taking your head, you dramatically laid it back onto the seat. Letting out a deep breath of air as it hit.

“So be mean.” Dean piped up, causing you to lift your head with a furrowed brow. “You’re a teenage girl. So if they want to bitches- just out bitch them.” He smiled at you just as you smiled at him.

“Really?” You took one final glance at the girls who were clearly pointing at you and laughing.

“Really.” They both say at the same time. It honestly freaked you out how they did that on occasion.

There was no need to say anything. The three of you reached for the door handle nearest to you and swung it open. The entire walk up to the front door, you never broke eye contact with one of the girls who seemed to be the culprit behind it all.

The two suited men beside you had no issue getting past the girls. It wasn’t until you tried that one of them stood up and stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Sorry. No trash dressed hoodlums allowed.” She snickered. Feeling proud of herself. Your dad and uncle instantly turned around with their eyebrows raised.

“Guess being a hoodlum would be better than being you.” You tried to push past her but her force drove you down the three steps with a stumble. Driving you to land straight on your ass.

Dean was about to snatch the bitch up by her hair no doubt, but Sam stopped him.

“Don’t talk to me like that lowlife. I had a concussion and can’t take your shit.” The girl spat out. Crossing her arms as though she won.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You pushed yourself upwards and onto your feet before walking over to her and getting right in her face. “Did you hit your head on the gear shifter?” The girl was more surprised you said that then you were.

Without a problem, you pushed right by the girl and made your way up the stairs for a second time. Stopping before landing in the deck.

“Anything to say lemmings?” You asked with confidence in your voice. Both of the girls shook their heads before moving off the steps completely.

“When I said be a bitch- I didn’t think you’d…you know.” There was a large hint of proud parenting on Dean’s face.

“I think these pigtail braids might be too tight.” You laughed out, causing you both to smile just as Sam knocked on the door.

Soon || Jack

Jack masterpost found here

Word count - 993

Summary - The one where he meets the family.

“What’s Uncle John’s favorite football team?”

“Manchester United.”

“How good is Aunt Robin’s potato salad?”

“Best I’ve ever had.”

“How old is my mum turning?”

“I don’t know but she doesn’t look a day over 35.”

That was how most of your car ride went with Jack. You were on your way to your family home where you would be celebrating your mum’s birthday; and where Jack would be meeting your extended family for the first time.

Yes, Jack had met your parents and younger brother before, but that weekend he would be meeting the aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. You still weren’t sure how two years of your relationship had gone by without him ever meeting them. So, you used the two hour long car journey to quiz him on how to interact with your family. Neither of you were nervous per say. You just wanted to take all the necessary precautions to make the day go as smoothly as possible.

When you pulled into your parents’ driveway, your 10-year-old brother (Y/B/N) came bounding out the door. He did the handshake he and Jack had come up with upon first meeting each other and then came to give you hug. You met your mum in the doorway and she engulfed you in a hug. “Happy birthday, Mum,” you smiled.

“Thank you,” she said cheerily, then immediately turned to your boyfriend. “It’s good to see you Jack!”

“You too Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Jack said, giving your mum a hug.

“What have I said about Mrs.?” your mum laughed. “Call me (Y/M/N). Mrs. (Y/L/N) makes me feel old.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jack said. “You don’t look a day over 35.” Mum smiled brightly and gave Jack another hug.

“I like him, have I said before that I like him?” she asked, looking at you with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Every time I bring him over, Mum.”

“I just can’t seem to say it enough,” she said, standing up straight again. “Well, come on, everyone else is already in the backyard.”

You and Jack followed your mum through the house and to the backyard where the rest of your family was gathered. Your dad was grilling burgers while your uncles and granddad stood around him and chatted. The aunts and your nan were sitting on lawn chairs around the bonfire and your cousins were running around the yard kicking around a football.

“This must be Jack!” your nan said immediately, standing up from her chair. She gave him a hug as soon as she approached him. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good things I hope,” he laughed back.

“Great things,” your aunt smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

That was how the rest of the day went. Your family fell in love with Jack just as you had hoped they would. He had great banter with your uncles and your aunts just adored him. More than once one of your family members would approach you and tell you that they loved him and that they hoped he was a keeper.

Even your cousins were obsessed with him. They were all 15 or younger, so when Jack went and offered to play football with him they all eagerly obliged. The younger ones jumped on his back whenever he even slightly bent over and the older ones would rough around with him during the game. A few times you looked over and saw him fallen on the grass with your cousins all tackling him. It made you laugh every time.

As the day was winding down, you and Jack gathered with the adults again around the now dwindling bonfire. They shared childhood stories of you with bright smiles and Jack seemed to enjoy all of them. You were sitting on chairs beside each other and Jack had his fingers laced with yours. “So when are you two getting engaged?” your uncle asked, a beer bottle between his fingers.

“George!” your aunt scolded with a smile.

“We don’t really talk about it,” you laughed.

At the same time, Jack smiled and said, “Soon.”

This caused you to turn your head quickly and look at Jack while your relatives all either smiled or laughed. When the others had started up a new conversation, Jack finally looked at you and gave you a smile and a quick wink. It made your heart flutter just the way it had when you first met him.

When your family finally decided to call it a night, you waved them all goodbye as they backed out of your driveway and headed to their homes. You and Jack would be staying the night. “You’re going to have to share your twin bed,” your mum said. You blushed lightly as Jack looked at you with a teasing smirk when your mum wasn’t looking.

After you said goodnight to your family, you went into your room and changed into your pajamas. Jack did the same and crawled into the bed beside you. “Cozy,” he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Cramped,” you countered, squirming to try and get settled. “There’s no room to be comfortable.”

“I can make you more comfortable,” Jack said, wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed, “We’re not having sex in my childhood bed with my parents downstairs.”

“They’ll never hear,” he said, placing a kiss to your neck.

“(Y/B/N) is right next door,” you said.

“We’ll be extra quiet.”

“Go to bed, Jack.”

Jack laughed and turned on his side, pulling you close to him so that you were spooning. “Are you more comfortable?” he asked gently.

“Mhm,” you mumbled, feeling your eyes flutter closed.

“I love you so much,” he said. You were quiet a moment, the words he had spoken earlier floating around in your head.

“When are we going to get engaged?”

Jack’s lips had been close to your ear and you could feel him smile.

“Soon, my love. Soon.”