watching her leave

Once upon a time there was a beast and a curse and an enchantress, which I’m sure surprises nobody. Better put it this way: once upon a time a girl was locked in a castle, and she begged so hard not to be the sleeping princess that she became the beast. That’s more like it, anyway — fairytale logic. You get what you wish for, but it isn’t what you want.

“Don’t let it be a prince,” she begged, “don’t let it be a kiss I can’t see coming and can’t refuse.”

Enchantresses, wicked fairies, call them what you will — they’re all the same story in the end. No one will remember if this enchantress began the story by giving the princess a naming day gift of a hundred year sleep once the tale switches to another track. The point is that she didn’t mind granting this one favor. Maybe it was an issue of statistics. Maybe she thought finding a girl who would fall in love with a princess-beast would be harder than finding a prince to kiss her, make her curse harder to lift (considering the probabilities of who might wander onto the cursed castle grounds). As if girls who love girls don’t know they have to fight harder to begin with, as if they won’t cross miles for each other.

So maybe there was a spindle once, but now there is a rose, and a girl who wanders through a thorn maze unable to find her way. This is the wrong story, she thinks to herself, clutching her leather satchel tighter, but she doesn’t know what the right story is.

“Let me through?” She suggests to the roses that grow squeezed between their own thorns along the twisting hedges. “I’m looking for the love of my life. I’m in a hurry.”

She’s met only with the rustling of leaves and haughty scoffs. “No prince ever found his true love by being in a hurry.”

“I’m not a prince. I’m a shoemaker, and I’m lost. Can you let me through to the castle?” It rises dark and spindly overhead, but though it seems so close she can see no way out of the maze.

Laughter, echoing through the hedge corridors, and then something dark prowls around the corner and half-crouches there, hidden as much as possible under a hooded cloak. Shining talons dig into the earth under their feet.

The beast says, “A shoemaker? You really are in the wrong story.” Her voice is gravely and doesn’t match the laughter. That must have been the roses as well.

“I have glass shoes,” the girl says, staring at those claws. “Or I can make something sturdier, if you give me time.”

“I don’t have enough time of my own to be giving it away,” the beast says, bored, and gestures around them. Even now the hedges seem to be encroaching further into the maze’s corridors, the roses growing and multiplying. One day soon, the girl realizes, the maze will entirely fill in, and the castle will be blocked off.

She’s clever, and she’s brave, and those are the two most important things for a fairytale heroine to be — besides pretty, but that’s easy enough to fake with the right kind of smile. “Then don’t give it to me,” she says, “we can share.”

So the beast reaches out one arm, fingers tapering into knives that she curls so gently they don’t more than scratch the girl’s skin — and the shoemaker takes it with an earnest gravity, looking right under her cloak’s shadow and into her eyes.

The beast’s eyes are unnaturally big and inhumanly shaped, but they’re not cruel, and in fairytales the evil beasts always have cruel eyes. The girl bobs a polite curtsey, using the beast’s arm for balance, and sees those eyes narrow slightly with amusement.

They walk through the twists and turns of the maze to the castle, the beast bent slightly so as not to tower over her guest. “About those shoes,” she says, when they reach the front doors, golden light spilling from the entrance hall and shining through the delicately carved details in the ancient wood.

“In the morning,” the girl says, and because she clearly has not even entertained the thought that she might be argued with, the beast cannot summon an objection. She watches the girl follow an unfurling carpet along the floor to a dusty guest room with no hesitation, as if every dwelling should be as accommodating.

And in the way of fairytales, that’s enough to make the beast fall in love — a disregard for every unspoken rule, a smile that glimmers in the darkness. Should I tell you that the moment the girl arrives at breakfast the next morning the beast can barely look away from her for a moment, that she stays by the girl’s side as she produces leather and tools from nowhere and searches floor by floor for the perfect room to work in — or should I let you imagine for yourself?

Gradually the hood is pulled back, eventually the cloak discarded altogether; they sit in patches of sunlight together to eat lunch, staring down at the maze below. Roses and leaves devouring each other and everything in slow motion.

“If you stay too long you’ll be trapped here,” the beast warns, anxious when the girls shows no concern in her usual solemn air as she watches the maze devolve.

“I haven’t finished your shoes,” is all she says. Each new morning she promises that in return for this latest night of hospitality she is making the shoes more beautiful, and each evening that she has not finished she stays another night.

Sometimes when the girl has gone to bed the beast sneaks back into the workroom, in agony over whether to rip out the stitches or finish the work for her.

Leave before you are trapped here forever.

Stay here forever because I love you.

Each night she does not touch the shoes and returns to sleep herself, and in the morning the girl thanks her for letting her stay, as if the beast could ever turn her out, and promises to repay the night with even more beautiful shoes.

And each morning the beast says, “That’s fair,” and wishes she could find different words, the words she means to say.

The maze grows. The roses are larger than hands with fully spread fingers. The corridors are barely large enough for a small girl to squeeze through. In the dawn light it is lit gently and slightly pink, but the sight of it is painful. The wide window of the workroom shows the progress the maze had made alarmingly clearly, and it’s only then that the beast wonders if that was the appeal of this room over all the others.

The girl appears silently in the doorway as she has for the past week. “Thank you for letting me stay last night. I’ll repay you—”

“No,” the beast says, her voice alarmed and rough. “No. You are leaving now.”

“Now?”

“Before you can’t leave. You must go now.” Her throat is closing up and her voice growing thicker with each word. They’re not the words she wants to say.

The girl cocks her head, a curiously nonjudgmental silence. Finally she crosses the room to her worktable and picks up the shoes, turning them around and around again. They’re boots, really, and almost comically big in her hands. The beast cannot tell if they are as beautiful as she was promised, because the girl is smiling now and that eclipses all else.

“Are they finished?” She asks.

“Yes,” the beast says, unable to choke out anything more.

The girl leaves the boots on the table and swings her satchel, out of nowhere, across her shoulders. “Thank you for sharing your time,” she says. For a moment she holds the beast’s hand in both of hers, and then she’s gone. From the window the beast can watch her leave; for all her trouble getting there, she finds her way out with ease.

She leaves the workroom and doesn’t return all day.

Do beasts grieve? She hadn’t thought they could. She hadn’t grieved when the curse was settled on her; she hadn’t grieved at the idea that it might never lift once the maze finally knit itself together during the coming night. But the loneliness she feels now was different. The absence of the shoemaker is something worse. She’d had no choice in her fate, but she had told the girl to leave. This misery she’d brought on herself.

At night she wanders back into the workroom out of habit, sleepless and hopeless and refusing to glance out the window. Has it happened yet? Is she truly trapped now, or will it happen in five minutes, an hour, at dawn? She stares at the boots for an indeterminable amount of time before she thinks of putting them on.

She does so only because she thinks the girl wanted her to wear them; left to her own devices she might have destroyed them with as little thought as she now gives to slipping them on. They are big enough, and the fasteners are easy to close even with her unwieldy claws. Designs etched into the leather yet invisible in the darkness spiral and branch out beneath the thumb-pad she runs over them. Vines, she thinks. Roses.

A tear slips out, or three, as she stands in her beautiful new boots and smells leather and rotting roses. I want her back, she thinks, even as a wave of thankfulness rises up from the deepness in her, thankfulness that the shoemaker will never feel this trapped. I want to go to her, she revises. Since she doesn’t know how, she goes to leave the workroom instead.

One step and darkness is rushing past her. The rough scrap of stone walls, the rustle of leaves and the tearing of thorns, night air soft all around her. She has stepped not into the hallway but out of the castle, beyond the maze, into the star-dappled night.

“What did you do?” She asks, alarmed, almost before she sees the shoemaker sitting cross-legged on the grassy hill, as still as if she has been waiting all day and night. “What happened?”

“I found what I came for,” the girl says calmly. “And I made her shoes.”

really worried about how popular saoirse ronan is getting on this hell site because one day she’s gonna say something that yall are gonna take out of context or yous are gonna go digging and find receipts from 2007 and she’s gonna be labelled problematique and toxique and i wont be able to even speak her name without someone coming into my inbox telling me i shouldn’t support her because she’s appropriating the american accent or something

sleepovers and confessions - peter parker

Originally posted by sexy-stan

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: You come over for a fun night with your best friend Peter. Only to end up spilling all the details on your crush on Peter to Aunt May, and maybe even Peter.

warning: slight language

requested: @summersimpkins-blog

a/n: Hope you enjoy this!! It was what you requested but I got a little writer happy with this haha, hope you still like it! Send me requests, I’ll write about your fav marvel character, etc.:)


“Shhh, May! Keep your voice down!” You quickly brought your forefinger up to your pursed lips, eyes wide as you sat down next to Aunt May.

She smiled widely at your sudden confession, excitement poured from her she began to squeal, almost jumping up and down, “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’m just- it’s just so exciting!” she belted out, both of her arms outstretched in your direction, signalling a hug. Leaning into her small frame, you squeezed her tightly. Letting go of one another, you smiled widely at her once again in a span of thirty seconds, nervousness and the pace of your heart rate caused the giddiness in your entire body.

You sighed tucking back a piece of hair behind your ear, “I just don’t know what to do. We’re just such good friends, best friends, you know that-” you interjected a different thought into the subject, looking to face her. She rapidly shook her head in an understanding manner, stopping to let you finish.

“It’s just, we’ve been friends for close to eight years. I just don’t want to ruin anything. And don’t even get me started on the whole Liz situation. That’s why I’ve been so distant from him these past few weeks,” you heavily exhaled, defeat instantly creeping up on you as the name Liz rolled off your tongue. It just put a bad taste in your mouth.

May smiled weakly at you, with a slight spark in her eyes, which you couldn’t help but find curious, “Y/N, don’t worry about Liz right now! You’ve known me and Peter basically your entire life. Trust me, I think once you tell him, he’ll feel-”

“How will who feel?”

Your mouth instantly intakes a sharp breath at the sweet sound of Peter’s voice, interrupting your entire conversation about… well, him. May’s eyes widen at the new position of her nephew, from the bathroom to the living room, which was quite inconvenient at this moment in time.

“Oh!” May interjects. You can instinctively realize she’s analyzing a plan in her mind, “Me and Y/N were just talking about… how my boss will feel if I’m late again for the night shift!” she says with a tense voice. You looked at her with thankful eyes, blessing her for saving your ass in yet another tight situation with Peter.

Peter looked skeptical at her sudden tactic. His bright brown eyes narrowed in both of you directions, eyebrows playfully scrunching, “Ohh-kay?” he questioned slightly. You looked over at him, a weak, but hopefully believable smile painted across your lips as May got up to leave for her ‘night shift’.  She said her goodbyes to both of you, winking at you before exiting the apartment.

Peter watched her leave, waving to her sweetly before turning towards you, his pink lips curled into a bright smile, eyebrows raised, “You ready to watch Return of the Jedi?”

You smiled at his excitement, the butterflies beginning to erupt in the pit of your stomach at his smile, “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

__

Halfway through the movie, you began to notice you couldn’t keep your eyes on the film. Your Y/E/C eyes slowly began to daze over to Peter sitting next to you. His soft, lightly curled brown hair was left loose today, going perfectly with his blue sweater and matching new balances. Your gaze flew up to his narrowed, sparkling brown eyes paired with furrowed eyebrows, focused intently on the movie.

God, those eyes make you go insane. And those thin pink lips you yearned to forever be placed on yours. Why couldn’t you just admit to him how you’ve felt for him all these years. Why couldn’t you just say, “Peter, I-”

“Y/N?”

The soft voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts, “Yeah?” you questioned, breath heavy as your head whipped in the direction towards him.

His eyes scanned your face completely, wondering if you were okay, due to the fact you had been in outer space, dreaming of him for a very long time, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine Peter. I’m just tired-”

“Cut the crap Y/N.”

Your heart instantly picked up at the new and unfamiliar sound of his voice. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your eyes wide yet peeled in his direction, curiosity running through your veins. He never sounded like that. He sounded almost, hurt? Guilty? You couldn’t quite detect it, “What are you talking about?”

He scooted closer to you, putting one arms behind the back of the couch and one by his side, mere inches from yours. You snapped your head down to your close proximity. Sure, you’ve sat much closer than this before, but right now, it felt strange. Almost as if you were unsure of what to say to him.

“The past couple of weeks you’ve been acting weird. Last week, I was walking with Liz to Calculus and I saw you, but you sprinted off! At lunch two days ago, you and Ned were sitting at the lunch spot and once you saw Liz and I make our way over, you muttered something to Ned before you got up and ran off! Oh, and yesterday Liz walked with me to-”

“That’s the problem, Peter! Don’t you see the recurring issue in every one of your stories!” you cut him off, hopping off the couch in a rush, standing right in front of Peter. Your mind instantly seem to forget how to choose the correct words to say to Peter in this type of situation. It was as if you didn’t know how to hide your feelings anymore. Your mind clouded, not anywhere near stopping.

Your hand flung out by your side, signaling to the outside world before belting out another stupid confession, someone careless seeming to take over, “You were with Liz! You were with her and not me!”

Peter slouched slightly, his eyes beginning to widen at every growing word that rolled off your lips, mouth barely ajar as he seemed to be aware of where this situation was going.

You continued, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes as your stomach did somersaults, and your heart ready to explode, “Don’t you see! You pine after girls like Liz for fucks sake! That’s why I’ve been so distant lately! Me knowing and witnessing  you falling in love with someone like her made me realize I would never have a chance with you, Peter,” your throat closing up at the sudden confession, you eyes widening as he stared intently into your eyes, slowly rising from the couch, stepping right in front of you. His couple steps felt like miles as he made his way towards your downcast figure. Once he approached you, you could lightly feel his breath hitting your nose.

This was it. He was about to tell you the truth, and it wasn’t going to be good. Who would’ve thought a simple sleepover would’ve turned into this?

You could feel the atmosphere in the room quiet and thicken, your eyes still staring deeply into Peter’s. Your eyes glossed over with guilt and disappointment. While his portrayed sneakiness and adventure. It felt like years for either of you to have the courage to speak up and say anything involving the matter. You took matters into your own hands.

“You know what, I took this way too far. I-I’m sorry, I’ll just leave and we can forget all about-” except you were cut off by Peter’s calloused palms quickly yet gently grab your face and bring your lips up to his softly. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you couldn’t of cared less. Your mind once again clouded with nothing but thoughts of Peter. You kissed back, gently pressing your lips back against his, hands wrapping around his neck, to rest in that soft brown hair you yearned to tug on for years.

He pulled away, his lips lingering on yours for a few seconds before slowly opening his eyes to meet yours in a loved daze, “Liz means nothing. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your eyes lifted with happiness at his words, heart prepared to explode with happiness and love, pulling him against your slightly shorter frame. His arms instantly wrapped themselves around your waist, causing an ignited feeling you’ve never felt before.

“I knew May was lying,” he said slyly, hugging you tighter as his words echoed in your ear.

You smiled to yourself, rolling your eyes at his cockiness, snuggling into his warm embrace, “Of course.”

Not Northside Material - Part 6

Originally posted by veronicadvalle

A/N: This isn’t at all what i planned to happen but it’s okay because when do my plans ever actually…go…to plan? Never! It’s the inevitable contradiction of my life that I crave organisation and yet i am unable to ever keep anything in place. OH WELL ENJOY MY ACCIDENTAL PAIN WRITING!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 7

Summary: He won’t speak to her, neither of them like it and neither of them know the other is suffering. He just has to manage to stay away from her, that should be pretty simple? … Right?

Words: 2,308

Summary: Serpents, Swears, T E N S I O N, oopsie doodle.

Keep reading

Boardwalk

California Series | [Part 001 of 011]

Boardwalk [001] | Highway [002] | Earthquake [003] | Redwood [004] | Wildfire [005] | Rip Tide [006] | Drought [007] | Dry Heat [008] | Alien Sky [009] | Ghost Town [010] | Vineyard [011]

Summary: You knew Billy Hargrove when you were both still in diapers. He tugged on your hair when you were young and you made fun of his chubby cheeks and curls. No matter what happened in either of your lives, you always had each other - Until Billy’s mother died and he was swept away to Indiana, leaving you heartbroken. When your father and Neil’s business booms, it makes more sense for the partners to be in the same town, bringing you back to Billy and into something you never expected.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader (female)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, death mention.

A/N:  Based on an anon request, the first installment of my eleven part 1k celebration series. You should all be prepared for hell in a handbasket and so much Billy Hargrove you’ll get sick of him. This story takes place post the events of season two and I honestly cannot wait for the ride I have in store for all of you.

Originally posted by kathillards


The day Cecilia Hargrove died, not a single nurse rushed into her room when the heart monitor flatlined.

Instead, three young nurses watched through the window, clutching each other’s arms and hands as the young son of Cecilia broke down in his best friend’s arms. The two seventeen-year-olds were the only ones that had visited her in her last days, laughing, telling jokes, and kissing her head even though it was shiny and bald. The last lights in Cecilia’s eyes had been bright, fighting until she pulled her son close and kissed his curls and told him she loved him, would always love him, and would forever watch over him.

When you looked up at them in the window, eyes full of tears as you rocked Billy back and forth, clinging to him just as hard as he clung to you, they finally decided it would be okay to come in. He was hysterical in your arms, sobbing and pressing against you as you touched his soft curls, too long from not having a haircut in the months since she became bedridden. His fingers dug into your skin, needing solid ground as they covered his mother, pulled her out of the room quietly, and recorded the time of death.

Looking back on it, you weren’t sure what part of it all was the hardest. Was it the before? Laughing, not knowing what was coming? Was it the during, watching her life slowly leave as she was driven to appointments and put through hell? Was it after? The moments when you weren’t sure if you would lose Billy too because he couldn’t hold himself anymore and he needed you to keep him upright?

You decided it was the funeral.

Keep reading

why does everyone say ‘I want to drink coffee somewhere in a French cafe outside Paris,’ like, I want to drink coffee inside a Nevada truck stop wondering why the guy in the bathroom over is yelling out some ‘Tucker’s’ name like his life depends on it

I want to drink coffee at a Japanese Denny’s at 4 in the morning while I watch a woman leave her husband

I want to drink coffee naked inside a deserted Turkish bath house while I try to figure out how I got there in the first place

I want that

6

40+ Up: Ban Ji Yeon (Witch’s Romance)

2

~College!au Pen Pal Jimin~PART FOUR

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3


You rolled your eyes at your phone as you entered the party. That boy was definitely drunk, you thought. Tucking it back into your pocket, you linked arms with Lisa and squished between people. On the way through, you noticed a guy staring at another girl with quite a lustful eyes. 

Hm, you thought, maybe that was your pen pal. He walked over to the girl and whispered something into the girl’s ear and giggling in response, she nodded. You craned your neck to see if you could get a good look at his face but to your dismay, someone walked in your line of view. After the person had passed, the boy and girl were gone.

“Man, when was the last time you went to a party, Y/N?”

“Before, back when I used to not care about my school work and dignity,” You muttered in reply. 

“Right,” Lisa nodded her head with pursed lips. 

“You know, if I get back into my old habits, I’m blaming you.”

“You need to let loose once in a while, Y/N. You don’t have to go back to your ‘I don’t care about school’ attitude, but don’t be a total prude, you know?”

Sighing in reply, you nodded your head. “Where are you going?” You asked when Lisa let go of your arm and began to walk away. 

“Have fun! We both know our ideas of fun are different.”

You pouted and watched her leave. You sat on the couch in the near corner. It had been a while since you’ve been to a party. Way back when, you were the life of the party but you seemed to forget about your past at the moment. 

Your stupid pen pal was on your mind. The thought of him being in the same room as you made you nervous. Who the hell was he? 

You scanned the room for the ‘fuckboys’ of your school. You spotted the well known ones, ones who were the typical popular bad boy types. You’ve never spoken with them, but they were sure chick magnets. They didn’t seem like your pen pal.

“Think they’re hot?” A voice asked from beside you. You turned your head to the curious boy. 

“Nah.”

The boy raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “You sure? It looked like you were nearly drooling over them.” Scoffing at the boy beside you, you waved him off.

“Okay fine. Yeah, they’re hot. But definitely not my type.”

“Wow, I think that’s the first time I heard that a bad boy wasn’t a girl’s type,” The boy raised both of his eyebrows and leaned back on the sofa. 

“Sorry, you are?” You didn’t recognize the boy beside you which was understandable being how big your school was.

“Not important. But I’ll have you know, I’m friends with those guys,” he pointed at them with a grin. 

“Really? Wait…you have that pen pal assignment right? Do you know their pen pals?”

“Okay, just because I know them, doesn’t mean I talk to them all the time,” He said. You rolled your eyes. 

“Why? You think your pen pal is one of them?” 

“He could be. Definitely has the ego of one of them.”

“Psh, if you think they have an ego, you should meet Jimin.”

“Jimin?” You asked.

“Wow, you really don’t know anyone, do you?” After shrugging in response he grinned. “Yeah, he’s a ladies’ man. Always manages to get every girl he sets his eyes on.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t know how he does it, though. Everyone manages to fall for him, yet he falls for no one.”

“Well, he seems like a nice guy,” you murmured sarcastically.

“Hey! He’s a close friend and he really is a nice guy if you get to know–”

“Tae, are you feeding strangers lies?” Another voice interrupted him. You craned your neck to see who was standing in front of you.

“No, I’m not. Just giving some intel on some students,” ‘Tae’ grinned innocently. 

“Right, well,” The other boy shooed him away. ‘Tae’ playfully rolled his eyes, “Bye, girl who knows no one in our grade. By the way, we have like two classes together.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and waved. The other boy took ‘Tae’s’ spot on the couch.

“So what has my friend, Taehyung, been telling you?”

“We’ve only been talking about Jimin. Whoever that is.”

“You don’t know Jimin? As in Park Jimin?” You shook your head and he scoffed. 

“Wow, I guess you really are ‘girl who knows no one in our grade.’“ Pouting, you looked down. “I haven’t gone out of my dorm much, okay? It’s a big school!”

“Everyone knows Park Jimin,” He stated flatly.

“Well then, tell me about him.”


Hey fam! Here’s part four for y’all! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a few days, I was still mourning. Wow, this week has been pretty emotional. I wish it wasn’t but I believe he’s in a better place (I hope i don’t have to clarify ‘he’) Whether it’d be as a star or in heaven with his kazoo, I hope he’s finally happy. He’d want us to move forward and be happy as well.

Part five?

BELLAMY 👏BLAKE👏WOULD👏NEVER👏LEAVE👏RAVEN👏REYES👏FOR👏CLARKE👏

Heartache

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,099

Summary: A look at the reader through Dean’s eyes, focusing mostly on Dean’s emotions throughout the day and how he reacts to even the simplest of words. This is the raw and vulnerable side of Dean. 

A/N: I haven’t written something like this, I think ever before. It’s heavily focused on Dean (especially since it’s his POV). Even so, the reader is a huge part of it, but once again, through Dean’s perspective on the matter. Hopefully, you love it. I spent a long time on it, trying to really get into Dean’s head. It’s not the light side of Dean, not many jokes or wise cracks – it’s him in his raw emotional state. Also, this would not be possible with @thefangirllifeismine who not only corrected all of my shitty grammar, but stayed an inspiration throughout. Please, send in your feedback. It’s extremely important to me, I’d love to hear what you thought about this, especially since it’s definitely different from what I usually post.

Originally posted by canonspngifs

– – – – 

DEAN’S POV: 

Her lips were moving, but my eyes were stuck on her hair. It was wet, and dripping a river down her shirt. I don’t think a towel ever touched her head.

“Dean?” Her voice was warm, inviting. It always was. She was never harsh with her words. Sam constantly tried to poke at her, just to see what her voice would sound like if she raised it.

“Yeah?” I met my eyes with hers, catching her gaze.

I felt my brother’s eyes on me as well; his brow was raised and a smirk played on his face.

“We were asking if you wanted to go to the bar tonight.” Sam filled me in.

A laugh came up from my throat as I raised the glass of whiskey in my hand. “I’m fine right here.”

Y/N smiled and looked at Sam, “You’re still in, right?”

He nodded and got up from his chair. “I’ll go shower.”

I tipped my glass in response, and took another swig from it.

“Have you been out in the sun?” Y/N asked, suddenly.

I furrowed my brows, “I was working on Baby earlier, why?” Then, proceeded to lift up my shirt and smell it. “Do I smell that bad?”

“No,” She let out a light laugh, “Your freckles are darker.”

“My- my freckles?”

She leaned forward in her seat, her nose a mere foot from mine, “Freckles get darker in the sun.”

“Huh.” I muttered and took another sip of my drink.

“It’s cute, Dean.” She said and the whiskey managed to go down even slower. My lip twitched upwards.

Without waiting for me to respond, she gathered her hair to the side and wiped her now wet hands off on her jeans before jumping out from her seat.

“I’ll go change for the bar. Invite’s still open.” She smiled, turning on her heel.

I watched her leave, shamelessly.

The first time Sam and I met her, it was an accident. Neither of us knew we had been working the same case, so when I approached who I thought was the legitimate FBI agent on the case, Y/N’s face beamed back at me instead. After a few back and forth questions, the three of us discovered none of us were agents, and went to grab drinks instead. It was supposed to be a one time deal.

But, one night turned into two. Eventually, three. In no time, I was helping her bring boxes into the bunker from the trunk of her run down car.

“We can’t let anything happen to her, you know that right?” Sam said to me the night she moved in. The shower water was running loudly, and in that noise, we had a discussion.

“I know.” I replied to my little brother. Worry etched itself into every wrinkle on his face, just like it did on our mother’s. He would never know just how much he looked like her.

“That means relationships, too.” Sam narrowed his eyes at me.

I looked away, forgetting how easily he was able to read me.

He continued speaking, “Everyone we get too close to…”

Sam never did finish his sentence. The shower water shut off abruptly and out bounced Y/N. Her face was flushed and her hair dripped down her bare shoulders.

My thoughts were interrupted as Sam strided into the room.

“You sure you’re not coming?” He asked, cuffing up the sleeves to his shirt.

It was tempting. I knew the bar had better whiskey than the shit that was currently burning its way down my throat. Better yet, the bar had Y/N. Whenever she entered a bar, I could see everyone’s attention land on her. Her warmth radiated through her big eyes and genuine smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?

“Nope,” I shrugged, “Not tonight.”

He nodded his head and walked towards the door, waiting for Y/N to meet him there.

“See you.” Sam shouted, his voice echoed down the hall.

Moments later, Y/N came out from her room. A short navy dress was hugging her skin, but what stole my attention was the jacket draped across her shoulders.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She said, pulling my black jacket around her.

“Looks better on you, anyways.” I said. It was the truth.

“Thanks, Dean.” She smiled at me before opening her small purse, reviewing whatever items lay inside of it. “See you later.”

With that, she was gone.

It may have been another hour before I got up, but when I finally did it was solely because I needed to go to the bathroom.

I stopped at the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, but this time it was different. Usually, I don’t look in the mirror.

Not when I wake up.

Not before I go to sleep.

If I do, I hate it. Plain as that. I never did like the man staring back, and I don’t know if I ever fully will. What changed though was that this time, someone liked what they saw on me.

My fingers reached up to my cheeks, running along the freckles on my skin.

Y/N liked them.

She honest to god, found something of mine that she liked. So, I did too. Immediately, I loved my freckles. I loved that my cheeks and nose were dusted with them, and that the most beautiful woman that I had ever laid eyes on, had found beauty in me, as well.

– – – –

It couldn’t have been earlier than two o’clock in the morning, when I heard familiar footsteps stumble down the bunker’s staircase. I kicked the sheets off of myself and went to see the state they were both in.

“Come on.” Sam mumbled, trying to hold Y/N up, but he was hardly walking himself. “Dean!” Sam shouted, his drunk self wearing a huge smile.

“Oh, it’s Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. She gripped the edge of the staircase with both hands, leaning forward as she spoke.

I crossed my arms and raised my brows, watching the two of them stumble through the bunker like baby deer.

“Here-” Sam tossed me a pair of car keys, “We called a cab, the car is still in the bar parking lot.” The keys hit the floor with a loud jingle, his aim completely skewed from the liquor.

Y/N rounded the edge of the table and began to fall towards me.

“Woah, there.” I grabbed her by her arms and steadied her.

“Thanks.” She laughed once more, at nothing in particular.

Behind me, Sam had already found his way to his room. Eventually, I’d have to check on him. For now, I gripped Y/N’s shoulder and guided her to her own bedroom.

“Oh- I forgot!” She looked up at me with wide eyes. “Remind me in the morning.”

I looked at her, waiting for her to explain. When she didn’t, I asked her what she was talking about.

“I have-” she stuck her hand in the pocket of my jacket that she was wearing and pulled out a napkin. A number was scribbled onto it. “His name is Matt. I have a date with him tomorrow night. Remind me, ok?”

I took the napkin from her, fighting the urge to rip it to shreds.

“Okay.” I stated, turning on the lights as she walked over to her bed.

“Promise me.” She kicked off her shoes sloppily. “He’s so nice-” I could tell she was beginning to ramble. Once she’s had enough to drink, she tends to.

“I bet he is.” I cut her off, helping her unzip her dress.

“And Dean-”

“Yeah?”

“He just has the most gorgeous freckles!”

In that moment, I worried that she could actually hear my heart drop into my stomach. I swallowed thickly, and within seconds, she continued on her drunken ramble.

“Goodnight.” I stated, simply from habit.

“Night, Dean!” She dropped onto her bed.

I should have gone back to bed. I should have crawled under the covers and shut my eyes. My feet had other plans, though. Step after step, I was trudged through the halls and into the library where my hand found a bottle of brown and an old glass.

Sam’s words spun through my head. She had to be protected. I thought back to everyone I had ever gotten close to; Charlie, Jo, and Bela were long dead. Just like every other fucking hunter that I had ever met and let into my life.

Sam tried to show me the positives. He brings up names like Jody and Cas – but who knows what will happen to them too?

I took another shot.

Eventually, it got dark.

– – – –

“Hey, sleepy.” Y/N’s hand gripped my shoulder. “Wake up.”

I opened my eyes and everything was sideways. Fuck.

“You fell asleep here, again.” Her soft voice explained my current situation. It was embarrassing. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at the scene before me. A mostly empty bottle, a half drunk glass, and what I think was a little bit of drool, lay on the table.

“What time is it?” I asked, quickly getting up from the chair and brushing past her. She smelled like her shampoo. Always vanilla.

She turned her wrist towards me. Nearly noon, her watch read.

“Thanks.” I muttered and began walking towards the kitchen.

“I should be thanking you.” Her voice called from behind me. Then, her footsteps began to draw nearer. “I couldn’t have been easy to take care of last night. Sam and I, we kind of let loose.”

I grabbed the coffee pot and turned it on. The sound of boiling water dripping down filled the silence.

“No, it was fine.” I replied, then remembered what she asked of me last night. “Except-” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a crumpled napkin. “Matt.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh god.” She took the napkin from my hands. Her hair fell before her face as she read the number, and she combed it back with one hand.

“I totally forgot. Shit.” She pulled out her cell phone and checked for any notifications. “I’ll just text him.”

I turned from her, unable to watch her any longer, and grabbed a cup for my coffee.

“Want some?” I asked over my shoulder.

“No, thanks.” She said, just as her phone beeped. “He already answered!” She exclaimed.

I kept my eyes glued to the cup in front of me, not daring to see her face light up as she saw his name and not mine.

“Smells good.” My brother’s voice carried into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a cup as well, waiting until I finished pouring my own before taking the pot.

“Feeling good, Sammy?” I threatened a laugh and he rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t been this hungover in ages.” He grabbed a bottle of Advil and returned to the table. “It was worth it though, you should have joined.”

I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee.

“Who are you texting?” Sam directed his question at Y/N, who still stood in the middle of the kitchen.

She looked at him and dangled the napkin in the air, “Remember that guy at the bar last night?”

“The really funny one?” He asked.

She nodded fervently, “Yeah, Matt. I got his number and we’re going to grab dinner tonight.”

Sam glanced at me, before returning his gaze to his breakfast.

“He’s a good guy.” Sam said. I think it was more to me, than Y/N.

“I bet.” I mumbled into my drink.

– – – –

Sam decided to watch a movie tonight.

“Batman?” I questioned. He wasn’t one for the superheroes.

He popped it into the disk slot and dropped onto the couch. Looking at his huge frame swallow up the furniture, I remembered being able to hold him in my arms.

“Last time Y/N picked, it’s your turn.” He said while pressing play.

“Good. Wouldn’t want one of your history documentaries to bore me to death, tonight.” I began to laugh and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” He muttered and grabbed the bowl of popcorn he had prepared.

An hour into the movie, the bunker door swung open. The loud creak it made reminded me to oil it later.

“Y/N?” I called out her name. The heels she was wearing when she left were no longer on. Her bare feet padded against the hardwood floor until she finally reached us.

“How was it?” Sam asked, lowering the volume.

Her lips formed a fine line, “I’m just going to go shower.” She grabbed a fistful of popcorn before disappearing.

I looked at my brother. His brows were raised as he shook his head in confusion.

“I’ll go-” I sat up from the chair, “I’ll go check on her.”

Her door was shut. I raised my fist to knock, but she opened it before I got the chance.

“You walk loudly.” She stated. My lips formed at ‘O’.

“What was that about?” I motioned towards the other room with my thumb.

She shrugged and put her heels away in the closet.

“Sorry about that.” She looked up at me with her big, bold eyes, “I think Matt was a lot nicer when he was drunk.”

I crossed my arms and sat on the edge of her bed. “Huh?”

“Well, we ordered our food and everything was great. I mean finally, a break from hunting.” She explained, and I sighed.

She pulled her bouncy hair out from the pins it was in while she continued, “He was sweet at first, really. But I could tell something changed. Matt wanted more than what I did…”

My arms fell to my sides, “Did you leave?”

“Yeah, but that was only after he asked me four times to go back to his place.” She was on the floor, her legs bent underneath her. She dropped her hands onto the floor from frustration as she spoke.

“What a douchebag.” I stated, no other word was able to form itself. “You don’t deserve that.”

She looked up at me, and a smile formed itself against her cheeks.

“I’m gonna be single forever.” She joked. “I mean, who am I kidding?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

From her spot on the floor, she reached out and gripped my leg with her hand. “Come on, Dean. We’re hunters. Let’s say it did work out with Matt – who’s to say he wouldn’t freak out the second that I brought him down into the bunker or told him that vampires are real!” Her grip tightened as she spoke, “It’s so fucking frustrating sometimes.”

“Dating is the worst.” I agreed with her.

“No.” She ran her hand down my leg and to my ankle, where she removed it.

I furrowed my brows and looked at her, every bit of me confused.

“Then what?”

“Being alone.” Her eyes dropped from mine and my chest suddenly felt heavy. I knew the feeling of being alone, too well. It was heartbreaking, yet familiar at the same time. It was relief, yet yearning.

“You got me.” I blurted out.

She got up from her spot on the floor by my legs, and situated herself on the bed so she sat next to me.

“I know that, Dean. I meant… more.” Y/N’s voice dwindled into a whisper. I turned my head to face her, and in that moment, I couldn’t lie to her.

“Exactly.” I stated, and her eyes first searched my face. They traveled from eye to eye as she thought of what I could possibly mean, until her lips parted.

I didn’t know what to expect. My heart hasn’t raced this fast since for someone else since high school. I either just started the relationship I had been waiting for, or ruined a friendship that was worth more to me than anything else.

I was so focused on her face that I hadn’t realized her hand found mine.

I wanted to keep her hand there, to squeeze it tight. But, Sam’s words found their way back into my head.

“I’m selfish.” I stated simply, standing up from the bed.

“What?”

“I’m being selfish, you deserve better.”

She tilted her head at me, her hair falling with it. “What are you talking about, Dean?”

“Everyone I touch, they-”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Y/N cut me off. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“They leave.”

“You know I’m not going to.” She stood up from the bed and walked up to me, placing her open palms on my chest. “I’m not just somebody.”

“That’s the point!” I exclaimed, voice rising. “You aren’t just somebody! What if something happened to you? I can’t let you get hurt.”

“You’re not my keeper, Dean.”

I laced my fingers around her wrists, holding her palms tightly against my chest. “From the first time you walked through those bunker doors, I wanted no one but you, and you know why I haven’t told you?”

She looked up at me through her lashes.

“I have been torturing myself every day, because I want you safe. I need you safe.”

For a few moments, no one said anything. Y/N just stared up at me with a look I had never seen before.

Then, she stood on her toes, and pressed her lips to mine.

And God, it was everything I thought it would be. She was warm and sweet, like honey. Her hands were squeezing at my waist and I knew right there that I was done for.

My hands traveled up to her neck, grazing every inch of her skin.

“Since the first day?” She teased, speaking slowly against my lips.

I laughed, “Since day one.” I affirmed and she smiled so wide that all I wanted to do was kiss every inch of her bubbly cheeks.

“How about we get dinner tonight, sweetheart.” I asked, hoping she was still hungry after the shit dinner she described with Matt.

“I’d love to.” Y/N’s fingers found mine and she led me out of her room.

Sam was still seated on the couch. His hand was glued to the remote and I could hear the channel being changed every other second. When we passed through, my hand still in hers, he raised his brows and stared at me.

“Woah, wait-” He called out behind us.

“We’ll be back soon!” Y/N called over her shoulder.

A smile remained on my face for the rest of the night, never faltering.

No Strings (IX)

.Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jimin

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,940

Summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

Originally posted by gotmeolk

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A Dixon’s Mate

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Y/N is attracted to a certain blue eyed Alpha, but she thinks he doesn’t like her because of how much he avoids her. What she doesn’t know is that Daryl lives to protect that Omega. One night when Daryl doesn’t join everyone for a special dinner in the cellblock, she takes some dinner to share at his watch post, but what she finds will change everything between them.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (be safe when you get naughty), A/B/O Dynamics, knotting sex, a little fluff at the end, wee instance of Daddy kink, etc.

A/N: This took longer than expected for many reasons, but I’ll just leave it at that for now. This isn’t my best work, but I’ve been told it’s good for how rusty I am getting back behind the keyboard after a while. The style of this story is written in @kittenofdoomage‘s A/B/O universe. If you’d like to know more she has a link to the list of rules on her page. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it.

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10816410

Word Count: 2,356

Originally posted by findmeacurebae

The sun was already high above the prison when Y/N stepped out to the yard, loving the Georgia heat despite the humidity. It had been freezing inside the cell block with three straight days of rain, so the warmth of the sun’s rays soaking into her skin was a welcome change. A smile tugged at her lips as she watched the kids run out through the muddy grass, Rick and Hershel checking the crops, while Maggie and Glenn walked hand in hand to the fence to kill off some walkers. She was always so happy to see the sweet beta couple together, feeling the love they have for one another radiating from them every time they even look at each other. Poor Rick always smiled at the sight of them too, wishing he could go back to the days before he lost his omega, Lori. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he had to kill his best friend, Shane, another pig headed alpha pining over his omega. But he had Carl and sweet little Judith to keep him going. He also had his duty as leader of the group to make his days busy, caring for the people taken in after the fall of Woodbury and the Governor slaughtering some of his own people.

An all too familiar feeling pulled Y/N from her thoughts and made shivers run down her spine. Her teeth quickly sunk into her bottom lip to hold back a soft whimper that threatened to escape, loving the heat that spread through her body under the blue eyed gaze of the alpha staring at her from the nearest watch tower. Daryl watched her every chance he got, secretly admiring everything about her. He had been completely entranced with her since the group first found her outside Atlanta. He liked to believe that she had no idea, looking away to avoid meeting her eyes any time she’d look at him.

To Y/N’s dismay, he always kept his distance from her. Whenever she caught him looking, she wondered how it would feel to be close to him or how he would smell. She’d been told that alphas smell wonderful to omegas like her, but she’d never been around an unmated one before, aside from Shane but he acted like Lori was his, even when Rick came back. “Maybe he thinks I’m gross.” She mumbled and kicked a rock from under her foot before walking down the gentle slope to feed the pigs the group had raised.

Daryl kept his gaze locked on her every move, groaning at the sight of her hips swaying with each step. He wanted nothing more than to pull her against his chest and scent her properly, make her his mate. He always made sure she was safe when they were on the road, keeping his distance and watching from afar. It was dangerous enough for her to be an unmated omega in a world of zombies that half rely on the scent of living things to find their next meal, but it was worse when her scent intensified during her heat each month. Securing the prison had been like a God send to protect her. He’d stop outside her cell at night when everyone was a sleep just to check, inhaling deeply to take in her intoxicating scent while he peeked in on her sleeping form. He thought he’d heard her whimper his name in her sleep a few times, but it was too quiet to tell for sure. As much as he wanted to be hers, he never got too close. Daryl thought he wasn’t good enough for her. He thought she deserved better, but couldn’t stand the thought of anyone but him touching Y/N. He shook his head and turned his attention back out to the woods and fields surrounding the perimeter of the prison, fully prepared to stay there long into the night with his thoughts.


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