Not Anything Special (Part 1)

Caspian x Reader

May 19, 2017

Word Count: 2383

Requested by: @coolcoolfantasy

Warnings: none

Note: GOSH I am so sorry this took so long! Thank you for being so patient! This prompt is amazing, and it got away from me so quickly, I’m going to have to split it up into parts! I hope you enjoy it!

I think it’s better if it’s a Caspian x  reader about how Caspian fall in love with a simple girl who came after Pevensies. Caspian forgets about Susan and fall in love with her even though she is not a warrior but just a normal girl.


The carriage jostles Y/N around for the umpteenth time and she inwardly groans. She hated coach rides, but her parents didn’t trust to send her across all of Narnia on a horse, but herself. An elderly lady, the only other person in the coach, glances up at her.

“Do you want something to help you sleep? I have some herbs in my pack,” she offers, motioning with knobby hand to the bag that sits between their feet.

“No, thank you, madam,” Y/N replies. She looks out the window. “I’ve just been on this coach for too long.”

The woman nods. “Are you going to Cair Paravel for the celebration of the Kings and Queens returning and helping to end the reign of the Telmarines?”

“No. My parents are sending me to the capital for a better life. My mother is friends with a servant in the castle and she has found me a position there,” Y/N tells the woman.  

The woman nods again, her hands returning to the weaving in her lap. “Opportunities are good when people are around the Kings and Queens.”

Y/N eyes the woman, whose hands were moving over the thread in her hands expertly, even though it was dark in the cabin. “You speak as if you knew them yourself.”

The woman chuckles. “I wish I had.”

“You might still,” Y/N offers, and the woman smiles sadly.

“Maybe so.”


When the carriage arrives in the city six hours later, the woman was asleep. Y/N leans forward to wake her, but her eye catches a bright flash of red and gold to the side and her hand falls instead around the edge of the window.

The walls of the Telmarine capital slowly grow taller as the coach travels deeper into the city. Y/N stares up in awe at the exquisite architecture, so much better than the small houses that littered her own village so many miles away. The carriage suddenly starts to slow and the old woman blinks awake.

“Oh, we’ve arrived,” she says, her voice raspier than before. “Why have we stopped?”

Y/N shrugs and leans her head out of the window to ask the driver the question.

“There’s a festival going on, madam,” he replies. “We’ll be stalled here for a while.”

The woman starts to put her things together. “Wait, what are you doing?” Y/N asks, and the woman stops and looks up at her with wide, blue eyes.

“I’m getting out. I want to see the Kings and Queens as soon as possible.” Y/N watches, dumbfounded, as the woman gets her things together, opens the door, and starts to climb out of the cab without waiting for someone to stop and help her. Y/N quickly grabs her things and pays the driver, following the woman.

“Can you show me the direction to the castle?” Y/N asks, and the woman glances over her shoulder.

“Follow me, dearie, and you’ll see them soon enough!” the woman calls, and Y/N scurries to catch up. She wasn’t necessarily looking for the family of royals, but she went with the woman anyway. They reach the edge of the courtyard that most of the crowd was gathered in, just in time to see an enormous lion and a boy watch as four people, two boys and two girls, walk through a man-sized hole in a tree and disappear. Cries erupt from the crowd and the dark haired boy turns away from the tree. He looks over the crowd, his jaw set tight, and Y/N’s stomach churns when his eyes flit from her to someone else.

“That was them,” the woman sighs, folding her hands in front of her. “I missed them again.”

“Again?” Y/N asks, and the woman turns and starts to make her way back through the crowd. “Wait, madam!”

“Go to the castle, young one,” the woman says, turning. She puts an unexpectedly strong hand on Y/N’s arm. “Do something amazing with this opportunity you’ve been given.”

Y/N nods, speechless, and watches as the woman hobbles through the crowd, disappearing in the mass of people.


(Four and a half years later)

“Y/N!” Amelie, the servant’s boss, whispers, and Y/N jolts awake. “You’re on breakfast duty! Remember to brush your hair today, because you’re serving!” Amelie bustles away, disappearing amongst the bunks that lined the room, waking the others.

Y/N rubs her eyes and sits up. She’s yanked back onto her pillow, though, by her hair that was caught under her bottom. She sighs in agitation and pulls her hair out from under her and sits up again, swinging her legs over the side. Standing, she stretches her arms and reaches for her toes, letting her back pop. She goes to her trunk and pulls out her clothes for the day and then moves quietly through the servant’s quarters.

She takes a quick bath in the cold water that was sitting in one of the tubs, waiting for someone to use it. After she gets out, she refills the tub with water from a spout in the corner of the room and then changes into her day clothes. Just as she was leaving, she remembers Amelie’s order to brush her hair, and does so. She pulls it into a braid before leaving the bathroom to go back to her bunk. There, she puts away her nightgown and pulls out her socks and boots.

Finally exiting the servant’s quarters, she takes a deep breath of Narnian air, putting her hands on her hips as she walks along the short cobbled path to the kitchen. She could hear the clatter of pots and pans and the shout of the cook to his kitchen staff before she even opened the heavy door, stopping to pet the stray cat that hung around the bushes outside the kitchen.

Heaving the door open, Y/N slips around the edge of the kitchen to where the other servants on serving duty were chatting, putting on their aprons and little bonnets that were customary for servants that would be amongst the king and other members of the royal court. Y/N picks up her own apron and starts to tie it around her waist. She had been on serving duty for the past few months, and had always been treated with the civility that King Caspian gave them all; she was happy that it wasn’t anything like the horror stories she had heard of how the Telmarines treated the staff.

“Y/N, I want you to lead the group today,” Amelie says, and Y/N nods in response. She had been comfortable in the position of leadership that Amelie had put her in the last few weeks, and was happy that she was being placed with the responsibility.

The servants line up next to the counter that the cook’s staff put the plates that were ready to be served on, relaxed and chatting, the younger girls giggling behind Y/N. The cook shouts out, “Service!” The servants straighten their shoulders in unison and fall silent, taking plates as they came. Y/N pushes the door open with her back, hands laden with plates of fruits and grilled meat.

Y/N makes her way to the table that consisted of the king and his valued court members that were lucky enough to live in the castle. Y/N and the rest of the staff fan out gracefully, setting plates down in synchronized movements.

As Y/N places King Caspian’s plates before him, he smiles up at her. Y/N bows her head, curtseying a bit, and could swear that he was watching her leave as she made her way back to the kitchen.

Y/N takes her place on the wall with a pitcher of fruit juice in her hand for the rest of the meal, ready to serve when she was beckoned. She didn’t look at the table directly, but watched the members of the court eat out of the corner of her eye.

At the end of the meal, the court leaves, single file. When the last member was gone, the team of servants swoop in to clean the mess and start to help prepare for lunch, where all members of the court and some of their family members would be joining. As Y/N stacks dirty plates on top of one another, placing silver ware in a shallow bucket, Amelie enters the room, scanning her staff’s faces.

“Y/N,” she says, making her way across the room. Her face was red, but Y/N couldn’t tell if it was from work or anger. Y/N straightens and her eyes widen, ready to be chastised if it were the latter. “What did you do during the meal?”

“I- I served, madam,” Y/N stammers.

Who?” Amelie says forcefully.

“The king, madam,” Y/N squeaks. “And then I served juice when needed. I stood against the wall when I wasn’t doing so, madam.”

Amelie searches Y/N’s face, the woman’s dark, greying hair whisked across her wrinkled forehead. Her eyes look furiously across Y/N’s face, looking for signs of lies.

“M-may I ask why you’re inquiring, madam?” Y/N says hesitantly.

Amelie runs a hand down her face, wiping sweat off. “The king has requested your presence,” she says, finally. “And I know you. You’re good and kind, and wouldn’t make a mistake big enough that the king would punish you himself. So this has to be a good thing. Go, clean up. He requested for you to meet him immediately.”

Y/N gulps, surprised. “Yes, madam,” she says, picking up her skirts so she could move quicker. Y/N pushes to the sink in the corner of the kitchen, dunking her hands in the pot of clean water and scooping water to her face. She scrubs her hands and smooths her dress before turning out of the kitchen door.

Walking quickly, her mind swimming, Y/N feels terror growing in her chest. What did she do? Did she touch him on accident? Did she have a nasty look on her face unconsciously? Did she not bow low enough? None of these things sounded like something the king would normally be upset about, but Y/N just didn’t know what she did.

“Excuse me!” a voice comes from the doorway that Y/N had just hurried past. She stops for a second, turning and looking over her shoulder. She was required to stop if it was a member of the court stopping her, but she was ready to tell anyone else that she had to go. Her mouth already parted to snap, her words die in her throat as the king himself stepped out from around the archway. “You are Y/N, right?” he asks, his accent strong.

Gulping, Y/N curtseys, ducking deeper than she usually did, in case that was what she was in trouble for. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Please, walk with me,” he says, motioning to the doorway. He waits for her to be at his side for he starts into the large courtyard that laid in the center of the palace. King Caspian doesn’t talk at first, but walks next to her with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the greenery and statues that surrounded him. Finally, he stops in a small, secluded circle that was surrounded by hedges. A statue of a woman sits in the center, looking tall and regal.

“Do you know who this is a statue of?” the king asks her, looking down at her.

Y/N gazes at the statue. “Queen Susan? The Gentle?”

Caspian laughs. “No. This is her sister, Queen Lucy.” They both look up at the statue and he adds, “The Valiant.”

“Ah,” Y/N says, her voice shaking. “You knew them, right?”

“Yes, for a short time,” King Caspian replies. He looks down at Y/N again. “How long have you worked for the castle?”

“Four and a half years, Your Majesty,” Y/N replies.

“Please, call me Caspian. That means you were here when they left?”

“I arrived shortly after,” Y/N tells him. He sits on a stone bench and motions for her to join him. She sits as far as she could away from him, but it wasn’t much.

“And your accent and looks tell me you aren’t from this region,” Caspian continues.

Y/N touches her long, blonde braid. “No, Your Majesty- er, Caspian.”

Caspian nods, a soft smile on his face. They sit in silence for a few moments. A soft breeze flows through the small courtyard, and Caspian was quiet for so long that Y/N allowed herself a small second to enjoy the breeze. After almost five years, she still wasn’t used to how fresh the air was in the capital.

“I’m being advised by my court that I need to be married,” Caspian says, and Y/N snaps back to attention. “And…” he trails off, not looking at Y/N.

“And?” Y/N prompts, forgetting her manners for a moment.

“I’ve taken a liking to you,” Caspian says, turning to her. “I’d like to start courting you, if you would let me.”

Y/N stares at Caspian, her mind blank. “Excuse me?” she says, her mouth moving without her brain.

“I know this is sudden, but you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met,” Caspian says, his hands fidgeting. Y/N looks down at them. “And I’ve met with the women that the court has suggested for me, and none of them compare to you.”

Y/N looks back up at Caspian’s face. His wide, dark eyes stare back into hers. It wasn’t as if she could say no, right? He could have her banished, and it would be awkward to serve around him if he didn’t.

“Sure,” Y/N finally forces out, and Caspian’s face breaks out into a wide smile.


“Yes,” Y/N says, nodding.

“Fantastic!” Caspian says, standing and pulling her to her feet. Realizing that he had just touched her without her permission, he yanks his hands back and blushes. “Sorry. Okay. So, I’ll come and visit you soon, okay?”

“Okay,” Y/N says, amused at his boyish glee. How could he be so happy to be building a relationship with her? She wasn’t anything special. Other girls that she had seen around the castle that were drooling over the king were skilled in reputable tasks, such as archery or sword fighting or extremely intricate weaving. They were all incredibly smart. She was a mediocre weaver, and didn’t take any interest in weaponry. While she could read and write, she didn’t practice often.

“I’ll meet with you soon,” Caspian says again, bowing a little. She gasps as he leaves. He had bowed to her.

I like to think Tess is just some awoken woman who did so well she was able to buy the kiosk in the tower, but then the legion destroyed it ໒( •̀ ╭ ͟ʖ╮ •́ )७

Theory Of Mine Below

But how to explain silver…
Silver is currency used by civilians while glimmer is used by guardians…
Glimmer is absorbed by the ghost but how would a normal person receive a glimmer pay
So we (players) have to be given silver to buy her wares
*that’s my theory on why she has us buy the silver*

Not really sure where this Silverware holder would be used for, but it sure is adorable! I cannot find the website for this and I really would love too!

My Headcanons #26 (Thanksgiving Holiday Edition)

Ren spends all afternoon cooking the dinner. The turkey, stuffing, green bean casserole, cranberry jam, and other thanksgiving food stuffs.

Yang wanted to stuff the turkey or as she put it “fist the turkey”. Yang then proceeded to absolutely destroy the turkey, much to Ren’s dismay.

Jaune and Nora are fighting over the wishbone of the first turkey, even though it’s not dried, they say they are “practicing for the real thing”

Pyrrha offers to go out and get a new turkey, one that has already been precooked. Ruby wants to carve the turkey, but Weiss refuses to let her do so and decides to preoccupy her with having her set out the plates and silver ware.

Qrow has already begun pre-party drinking. He started drinking even before he got to Tai’s house where the dinner was being held. He had turned into a bird to get there quicker, he flew beak first into a window.

Blake had watched the whole thing. She opened the window and picked up the bird form Qrow and began poking him repeatedly.

Winter chuckles to herself watching Blake poke Qrow.

Coco and Velvet come in carrying decorations and a bowl of punch respectfully. Velvet lost her footing and tripped, spilling the punch on Neptune. Neptune being caught off guard panicked and jumped into Sun’s arms. Sun just stands there shaking his head while holding him.

Everyone sits around the table. It is extremely cramped but they make due, everyone is happy to have everyone there and enjoying everyone’s company.


Being best friends with an idol is definitely all it’s cracked up to be. Meeting new people and going to events is fun and all, but what really grabs your attention is the new way Juho acts when other idols look your way.

word count: 1099
request: Can you do one with Zuho? One where you have been friends with him since childhood so you are there for a lot of sf9 stuff and he gets protective and jealous but like in a sweet way where he doesn’t even really realize he’s doing it?

I do not allow reposting of my work under any circumstances. Thank you!

You had been looking forward to this event all year. You had squealed with excitement when Juho had asked you to be his plus one. You loved having a reason to dress nicely and do yourself up, and, even more, you loved finally being able to spend time with your best friend.

You were so immensely happy for him to be doing what he loved, so proud that his talent and hard work was being recognized by the world, but it was difficult to survive off of only videos and messages from him. Each time you hugged him was like he was recharging something inside of you, so missing him felt like you were running on empty.

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Demon Apocalypse (BTS x Male Reader): Chapter II [Save Me]

After escaping with your life and new set of friends, Jimin teleported you into their home. A mansion in the rich part of Seoul, ifull of statues, one of a kind pantings, silk curtains. Everything in it was upscale and delicate. wasn’t just any run down mansion, it’s the home that Namjoon was raised in.

“Where are we?” You asked observing your surroundings.

“We’re home.” Namjoon informed.

“Oh….” You mumbled.

“Yet another day, another hunt down. I’m going to bed.” Jungkook said dismissing himself from the group. “Call me if you guys need me.” The youngest member waved as he made his way down the hallway.

“Yeah, I’m beat.” Yoongi yawned and went to his. “See you all in the morning.”

“Why are they going to bed early? It’s not like they’ve done the most fighting today.” Hoseok commented.

“Don’t be like that, Hoseok.” Jin scolded. “The way these demons have been attacking as of late, we’ll need more than enough to keep going. Is there anything else you need from us, Joon?”

“Nothing I can think of. I guess we’re all set until tomorrow.” Namjoon shrugged.

“So do I sleep on the couch or what?” You asked, trying to keep yourself warm under the blanket that Jin gave you.

“Absolutely not.” Hoseok protested. “You can room with Yoongi and I if you’d like?”

“Actually….Jimin needs a roommate. He gets kinda lonely at night.” Namjoon insisted and Hoseok’s facial expression changed to complete disappointment.

“My room is this way.” Jimin signaled you to follow him down the hall. You followed him down the hall to his room, leaving Namjoon, Jin, and Hoseok watching you walk away.

“I honestly can’t even process how cute, (Y/N) is.” Jin sighed in content.

“He is. But he as a lot to prove.” Namjoon added.

“What do you mean?” Hoseok questioned, furrowing an eyebrow.

“He may have the looks but is he a capable hunter? I don’t know what it is but I see something in him that he possibly could be.” The leader explained.

“What if he isn’t a violent person. What if he doesn’t know how to shoot a gun or swing a sword properly.” Hoseok tried to convince Namjoon that he can’t just force you into the demon hunting life.

“In this world, he has to. It’s the only thing that’ll guarantee his survivial.”


“Here we are.” Jimin said, opening the door to his room letting you in. Like you expected everything was tidy. The walls had paintings, small knives, and firearms mounted on them. And there’s a little space in the corner of the room with a training dummy the size of a demon with throwing knives lodged in it.

“This is nice.

“Make yourself at home. Our home is your home.” Jimin said with a welcoming smile.

“Thank you, Jimin.” You smiled back sitting on the side of the bed.

Jimin sat right next to you, “So what’s up?”

“Nothing really. Still a bit traumatized.”

“No need to be. You have us.” The blonde boy assured, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Thank you. Um…do you guys have any food? Since this is my home too and all?”

“Yeah, we do. Can you cook?”

“Just the microwave.” You mumbled.

“Don’t feel bad. That’s what we have Jin and Jungkook for…..well Jin aways.” Jimin said toned of voice changed when mentioning Jin being a better cook.

“What’s wrong with Jungkooks cooking?”

“Cooking isn’t his thing. Demon hunting is.”


“Yeah, c'mon. Let’s feed you.” Jimin tapped you in the thigh and got off the bed. You followed him down the hallway to the kitchen staring at his butt the whole time.

The kitchen was just as fancy as the rest of the house. There was a long marble dining table, marble counters, glass cupboards, expensive looking silver and table ware. Jimin ravaged through the refrigerator and the cabinets and found you packs of junk food and microwaveable foods that should hold you until the morning.

“We can take his all back to my room.” Jimin chuckled gathering all the food at once. “Let’s hurry.”

“Will anyone will notice?” You aren’t too sure about pulling off this scheme with Jimin.

“Of course they won’t.” Jimin grabbed a hold of you and everything else you gathered then teleported back to his room.


“So Namjoon about (Y/N)?” Jin asked while polishing his sword.

“Yeah, what about him?”

“Is he gonna go through what we’ve all gone through? The Blood, Sweat, and Tears protocol?”

“I’m not sure yet. I feel like I’m forcing him to be tough but at the same time I’m not.” Namjoon said sighed.

The Blood, Sweat, and Tears initiation is a series of tests that every demon hunter in history has gone through in order to be accepted into the resistance. If you meet all the expectations, you’re fit to be a demon hunter and join the cult. If not, your chances of survival will be slim.

“I think we should fell him out first before we offer him the test.” Namjoon suggested. “You know make him feel more comfortable around us.”

“What if he refuses?”

“I don’t know. Don’t think I’ll let him go out in the streets because he’ll get hurt and I’ll never forgive myself if I do.”

Since it’s hasn’t been a full day since you and the boys have met. Namjoon has a lot of thinking to do.


The next morning, Jin is up early preparing an even bigger breakfast now that there’s another person in the house. He’s also the cook of the house like Jimin had mentioned to you the night before.

Jungkook enters the kitchen and telepathically moved a chair away from the table and sat in it, “So what’s for breakfast, chef Jin?”

“The usual. Now I have to make even more now that (Y/N) lives here now.” Jin answered.

“Speaking of (Y/N), what do you think of him?” Jungkook asked.

“I think he’s attractive. He’s very quite but that’s because he doesn’t really know us that we’ll yet. Which is understandable.”

“I think he’s sexy.” Yoongi entered the kitchen still half-sleep but was awakened by the smell of Jin’s cooking.

“I agree with sleepy head.” Jungkook teased Yoongi.

“I’m starving. The food almost ready yet?” He blue haired archer whined.

“Just about.” Jin assured.

Jungkook and Yoongi patiently waited for Jin to finish cooking. Shortly after Namjoon, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin sat at the table, leaving a seat open between Jimin and Taehyung.

“Look who finally decided to join us.” Yoongi said as you walked in kitchen still a bit tired.

“Good morning everyone.” You yawned, wiping your eyes

“Good morning.” The guys replied.

“You sleep good?” Jimin asked.

“I did.” You agreed taking the seat next to him. You didn’t notice Taehyung staring at the left of you. He’s enjoying his closer glimpse of you that he even starts blushing.

Jin finished cooking and starting loading the table with his signature dishes that they boys like and that he’s sure that you’ll like. “Dig in.”

Without further hesitation, you took his word seriously and literally stuffed your face with food as if no one else was watching you. You finished your plate in literally two minutes, when you looked up the guys all looked at you with widened eyes.


“When was the last time you’ve eaten?” Hoseok asked.

“Two weeks ago.” You answered.

The boys instantly felt bad for you because you haven’t eaten in while because you’ve been trying to survive on the demon infested streets.

“Poor baby.” Taehyung pouted and leaned on your arm to make you feel secure. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you fed.”

“Who are you? His guardian?” Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“In a way, yes.” Taehyung nods.

“I’m sure, (Y/N) can take care of himself.” Hoseok insisted.

“I had too. I’ve everything under the sun except for fighting a demon head-on like you guys.” You said before sipping your drink.

“We can teach you how.” Namjoon suggested. We can show you how to shoot a gun, use a knife, make traps. We can do it all.“

"Oh and speaking of all that. I was doing a bit of reading last night and there was something about the ‘Blood Sweat and Tears Initiation. Did you guys have to go through that?” You asked.

“We all have.” Jin nods. “Did you read the Demon Hunters handbook?”

“I did.”

“It isn’t as easy as it may sound in the book.” Yoongi warned. “I still ache thinking about it.”

“Are you thinking about becoming a demon hunter? You were impressed by watching us fight weren’t you?” Taehyung flirtatiously teased.

“I was but I don’t think I’m cut out to be a demon hunter. Well….not yet anyways.” You answered, looking down feeling slightly embarrassed because you’re interesting in becoming a demon hunter one day later.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you think about in and when you’re ready we can start your training. Sound good?” Namjoon finalized. He realized that persuading you to be a demon hunter will be easier than he thought. The sooner he can bring out your potential the better.

“Yes, Namjoon.” You said with a smile.

“I like the way you said that.” Namjoon chuckled and blushed a little bit.

It’s only been one full day and you’re starting to feel comfortable with the guys that saved the night before. Not that you’ve noticed but all seven of them had started to develop crushes on you. Jimin especially now thar he got to know you a bit better. Being around attractive guys will be nice and all but everyone has to stay on one accord if everyone wants to survive the apocalyse.

Doing the Dishes (Phan Drabble)

Word Count: 932


Description: Dan hates doing the dishes, but this time might just be an exception.

A/N: Just a little drabble I thought of while I had to do the dishes.


Doing dishes is quite possibly the worst thing in the world, Dan thinks as he sighs heavily, shuffling over to the mountain of dirty cups, mugs and plates. Phil was usually the one to do the dishes, as Dan was the one to get the packages at eight in the morning. But, today seemed the very rare, but still very unfortunate day in which it was Dan’s turn. He began the painstaking task of removing all the dirty, but thankfully rinsed off dishes, from the sink and placing them on the counter directly next to the sink. He plugged the drain and then began to fill the now empty sink with lukewarm water, a little hot, but not too bad. He put slightly too much dish soap into the sink, resulting in a very fast, large compiling amount of bubbles. He giggled slightly at the sight of the fast rising mountain of small white bubbles smelling of green apple. Once the sink was full enough to begin the task of washing, he set to it. Grabbing the wet wash cloth, dipping them into the water and scrubbing the dirty dishes before taking them out to be placed into the other side of the sink for rinsing after all the washing was done. More than halfway through, he heard Phil’s footsteps from the doorway, and turned to see Phil looking shocked and pleased.

               “See you finally took the hint and decided to do some washing up.” Phil said walking over to Dan and placing his now empty cereal bowl on the counter alongside the yet to be washed dishes. Dan narrowed his eyes at the remark and returned to the task at hand.

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Lee Morgan - Gaza Strip

Lee Morgan Indeed! (Blue Note, 1956)

Personnel: Lee Morgan - trumpetHorace Silver - pianoClarence Sharpe - alto saxophoneWilbur Ware - bassPhilly Joe Jones - drums

I Knew it Was a Bad Idea (But I Did it Anyway)

Summary: You left Sam fourteen years ago to try and give your daughter a normal life, but she is determined to find him. When you have to go and get her from the bunker… You almost lose your resolve.
Word Count: 3,468
Pairing: Sam x Reader; Sam & Your Daughter
Warning: None
A/N: If you like guys like maybe I’ll make a second part ^-^
“I” is your daughter, Elizabeth Casey, everyone else is in third person, this is a reader insert.
Also, a little bit of help, what tags should I use, or, what tags do you guys look for the most when you’re looking for this kind of thing. I’m still trying to figure out how to tag things.
Much love, hope you enjoy

Sam and Dean were sitting at a table doing research when someone knocked on the door. Dean and Sam locked eyes, each asking if the other had invited someone.

Dean took point, gun in hand and Sam right behind him, where he’d be hidden behind the open door.

So, I knew that it was a bad idea. I knew that, I just didn’t care. Mom would be pissed, so pissed, but you know what, this was what we both needed. To see Dad. Or, Sam, I guess I can’ trust call him Dad, or maybe I can. I’m not sure how that actually works.

Well, Dad/Sam was in for a surprise, if he was alive. Let’s be honest though, he’s alive. I know that he is. He has to be.

If Sam weren’t alive, that’d be a weird thing to leave out of the books.

So, if Sam and Dean weren’t dead yet, they’d probably be here, at this super secret bunker whose location a thirteen year old girl could find. Of course, I’m a very persistent thirteen year old girl.

I knocked on the door and waited, expecting to have a gun pointed at me when the doors opened, and I was right. I didn’t know who the person was pointing a gun at me, but I smiled and tried to act as naturally as possible. I’d never been told stories about my father by my mother, but I’d managed to coerce some other people into telling me stories, and this was the greeting that I was expecting. The intense man edging on fifty was fit and attractive, so I kind thought be might be one of the men I was looking for.

“Hi,” I said, “I’m looking for Sam Winchester.”

“You’re a kid,” He said, never lowering his gun.

“I’m his kid, more specifically. Hi,” I smiled, waving my hand at him. I was acting more bubbly than I normally would, but having a gun pointed at you is surprisingly scary.

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Nerve Receptors

A/N: This anon was very right: I hardly ever see any Mettaton tickles. I think he’s a damn good ler, but he’s pretty ticklish too! 
Des: Mettaton comes over the skeleton brothers house to meet Papyrus for a date. Papyrus always has to look his best, so in the mean time, Sans finds out a little secret about the robot. (Implied Papyton/Soriel.)

Sans sat in the kitchen, stirring his spoon in his bowl of soup. Papyrus was going to be gone for the evening, but his presense was still upstairs.

He was humming rather loudly as he prepped for his date with Mettaton. Clanging and banging from upstairs echoed in Sans non-exisistent ears, but he smiled to himself. He was glad his brother was happy. 

There was a loud, obnoxious knock on the door, which snapped the skeleton out of his daze. He pulled himself out of the chair, his bones cracking as he did so. 

Before he could even grab the door knob, it swung open, revealing Mettaton in all of his bombastic glory. 

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I heard the door close. I listened to the taxi drive away. Then there was just silence. Unbearable, painful silence. And I was alone. Again.

2 months later

And you haven’t heard from him AT ALL?”, your friend, and colleague, asked you.

Nope. I talked to his mum a week after. She asked what happened, because he wouldn’t talk to her about it and he wasn’t the same. I told her we broke up, because I couldn’t handle his life and she understood, but said she was sorry. And that’s the last I heard. Everything else I know from the media, which is not necessarily the truth.”



Nothing. I just can’t believe he just went back to his job and everyday-life. I mean, your break-up was pretty messy, for both of you. I’d have thought he’d do more about it, that’s all.”

I think I was pretty clear there was no way back for us, and he probably just accepted that.”

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Crowded, noisy, that’s what we could say about the place, but luckily you and I had a place tonight. A beautiful restaurant, soft background music, low lightning and we are sitting at our table, just waiting to get our meal. Chandelier in the middle, silver ware in front of us, large tablecloth that falls to the ground and comfy chairs. You have a beautiful dress and I wear a beautiful suit. We are chatting, laughing, gazing in each other eyes while a tension rises, a sensual one. You are enjoying the night, talking about tons of things and after a moment you suddenly feel my legs against yours, normal since the table is relatively small, nothing happen at first but quickly it begins to move, as if it was caressing you, the tension between us rises more. Soon one of my curious hand joins in, resting on your thigh, sexual tension just rises so much and then my hand begins to caress you. You are a little surprised, so much people around, is somebody going to suspect a thing? You wonder while you blush. You don’t have more time to think, my hand pull up your dress a little, it get under it and get contact with your skin. As I get more adventurous my hand slowly get closer to your mound, barely touching you, just teasing your inner thighs, just massaging them. You look around, nobody seems to have notice and then you realize that my hand is now on your panties. My hand begin to move as you gasp of surprise, slowly caressing your lips, teasing you with my fingers through the fabric. You are worried that somebody is going to notice but at the same time you want more. And more you have as my hand get under your panties, having direct contact with you. I begin to play with your clit, to draw your lips, to tease your entrance while you let little moans out of your mouth that you try so hard to conceal, you realize that the tablecloth hides everything under the table but you are still concerned. Then my fingers enter you, widening your wall, fucking you gently while you bite your lips trying to hide the noise you involuntary make. I push them deeper in you, getting faster and your pussy gets more and more wet. You moans get louder and you try to cover them by putting your hand over your mouth, but I just go faster and deeper. Still nobody seems to have notice, but it could be just a matter of time as our action get less and less discreet. My fingers rubbing your creamy walls repeatedly and furiously and I just keep going, not stopping until you have enough. My fingers are making your insides shiver, making your pussy drip while we try to act normal in this crowded place. Your legs close on my hand, but I continue, your body tense, but I keep going, you try to sit normally while you squirm and twist, but I pursue until you reach maximum pleasure.