#i’m so lonely hold me in your glowing loveless hands

[fallingtheseus]

“oh, drunken gods of slaughter

you know i have always been your

favourite daughter”

[harley-sunday]

The Draw - Epilogue

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end…

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language.

Word count: 1.9k

AN: This it. It’s done. I don’t really know what to say other than that I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. The ending (part 17) was supposed to be something completely different up until last week, when eL convinced me to take the angsty-route. I’m glad she did, because it allowed me to include a piece in the epilogue I wrote a long time ago but never really got to use until now. Thank you, sweets! Here it is, guys, enjoy! ♥

Masterlist

His collar is up and his hands are tucked deep into the pockets of his jacket because it’s cold, much colder than it usually is this time of year anyway. He looks up at the dark sky and wonders if there’s any snow in the clouds that slowly drift by, trying to remember if he’s heard anything about it on the news earlier that day but not recalling a weather warning going out. 

He’s on his way home after another meeting with his lawyer, who, for some reason, always insists they meet in a restaurant rather than his office. It’s never during normal business hours either but always late at night, and always somewhere else. At first he was fine with the arrangement but it’s starting to annoy him that the restaurants have become increasingly more expensive and he’s always the one that ends up footing the bill. As if he doesn’t pay his lawyer enough to help him come out of this messy divorce as unscathed as possible. 

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the guilt that he feels about wasting three years of his life in a loveless marriage that never had a chance of succeeding in the first place. His therapist tells him to look at it as personal growth, but he doesn’t agree, not really, anyway. At least the court date has been set, he thinks, and this should all be over and done with two weeks from now.

He quickens his pace as he lets his mind wander, taking long strides, looking straight ahead and not paying much attention to the few people that are out this late. Most of them ignore him too. It’s New York after all. For a moment he debates the option of hauling a cab to get him out of this cold but he dismisses the idea quickly. He likes the walk home from downtown, it gives him an opportunity to clear his head and helps with the insomnia that sometimes bothers him. 

Crossing the street absentmindedly there’s something on the other side that catches his eye. He does a classic double take and then shakes his head, not quite believing what he sees. He must have walked by these storefronts at least a dozen times and tries to recall if the art gallery has always been there, but he simply can’t remember. The black canvas that’s displayed in the window is illuminated from above by a single light bulb, highlighting the various brush strokes going from left to right and top to bottom. He knows it’s called ‘Love’ before even looking at the little card pinned to the bottom right corner, and it’s like someone’s punched him in the gut. He first saw it a few years ago, when it was still a work in progress, standing on an easel in her guest bedroom in Charlotte, the paint still wet, and the black somehow less black. 

It’s then he notices the lights inside the building are on and it’s like his body has a mind of its own and before he knows it he’s on his way in. A bell chimes above his head as he enters and he hears a chair being pushed back in response somewhere. The space he’s in is long and narrow, only about fifteen feet wide, but the ceiling’s high and makes it feel more spacious than it is. There’s a wall about forty feet in, with a door that’s slightly ajar, and music flowing in from the back room, some song he thinks he recognizes but hasn’t heard in a long time. 

“I am so sorry but we are closed,” the voice is soft, coming from behind the door, but he would recognize it anywhere and he chokes up a little at the familiarity of it all. The door opens a little more then and all of sudden she’s there, exactly like he remembers her, “I must have forgotten to-” but she doesn’t finish her sentence because it’s then she sees him. Her eyes widen in shock and she actually drops the paintbrush she’s holding, her eyes never leaving his.

“Hey,” he says with a foolish grin, because never in a million years did he expect to run into her again, not here, and definitely not tonight.

“Hey,” she mimics, her eyes softening and the hint of a smile on her lips.

He takes the few steps needed to get to her, and for a moment he hesitates, unsure if she’d let him, but then he throws his arms around her and pulls her in for a hug. He can feel her smile against his shoulder, and he presses a kiss into her hair, because God, does it feel good to hold her again. 

“Here you go,” 

He takes the beer she hands him and waits until she’s uncapped hers before he raises it in a toast. She clinks her bottle against his and takes a swig and he follows suit. 

They’re sitting on the floor of what turns out to be her art gallery, their backs against the far wall, looking out on the dark street on the other side of the window. She turned the lights off before she brought him his beer, except for the lone bulb illuminating ‘Love’, and it feels like they’re in a little bubble, shielded from whatever’s going on outside and if someone told them he’d have a way of making this little moment in time last forever, he’s sure he would. 

He’s taken his jacket off, using it as something to sit on after she admitted she’s only got one chair here, his legs stretched out in front of him and his head resting against the bare brick wall. He’s got a million questions for her but he’s not sure where to begin and so he takes another sip of his beer instead, letting the silence settle between them.

She’s sitting next to him, close enough that her arm brushes against his whenever she takes a drink and it feels like there are little electric currents running through him every time she does. She looks up at him then, her eyes narrowed, almost as if she’s studying him, “You ok?”

He wants to tell her he’s fine, great even, but the way she looks at him tells him she’ll see straight through any bullshit answer he’ll try to give and so shakes his head, “Not really.” 

“Talk to me,” 

He opens his mouth to say something but then decides against it. They haven’t seen each other in four years and so much has happened but none of it they went through together and-

“It’s ok if you don’t want to,” her voice is soft and kind. She clears her throat then, “It’s just- I’ve read the articles about your divorce and- Well, the accusations she's made and- I don’t know, Seb, I figured maybe it has something to do with why you’re out this late.” 

“Yeah,” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He lets out a heavy sigh because he doesn’t want to bother her with everything that’s going on in his life, not really, but he also knows she’s a good listener and there’s no one he’d rather talk to than her right now. Looking down he plucks at the edge of the label on his beer bottle, deciding then to be honest with her, “I guess I should have fought harder, should have made it work, I-” another sigh, “They say you never know what you got ‘till it’s gone, right?” 

He sees her nod out of the corner of his eye, and then her hand’s on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze and it’s like a bolt of lightning runs through him, “Then why don’t you?”

His eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Why don’t I, what?”

“Fight,” she explains. “Try to make it work. If that’s really how you-” 

“Would you let me?”

“I-” she hesitates and pulls her hand back then, “What?” 

“I wasn’t talking about her,” he confesses quietly and when he looks up at her he sees her eyes are wide in shock. He tries to smile, “It’s always been you.” 

“Oh,” she breathes, her eyes a little glossed over now. She doesn’t say anything else and he doesn’t really know how to go from here so he keeps quiet too. But then she puts her beer down and stands up, holding out her hand to him, “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

He takes her hand and lets her pull him to his feet. She doesn’t let go when she leads him to the front of the gallery, her hand warm against his, and when he gives it a gentle squeeze she smiles at him from over her shoulder and it warms his heart in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

She stops in front of a painting, reaching behind it to turn on the searchlight, the warm light casting a golden glow on the canvas. “I made this one right after we broke up,” she says, her voice a little rough, “took me forever to finish because I couldn’t stop crying.” His heart breaks a little, but she dismisses her statement with a wave of her hand, “I got there in the end. It was like therapy.” A smile then, “I submitted it to a local art competition and I don’t know-” she shrugs but he can tell it’s important, “People seemed to really like it. Someone actually wanted to buy it but I couldn’t- I would never.” 

She gestures around her then, “This is all because of that.” He must look confused because she continues, “I kept painting, had some of my work on display in local art galleries, but it wasn’t until I decided to quit my job after Deb retired last year and Mark got appointed as her successor that things really took off. More art shows meant I sold quite a few pieces, enough so I could open my own art gallery anyway.” She looks up at him, “I don’t really know how I ended up in New York, but,” another shrug then, “here I am.”

“Here you are,” he agrees quietly. He doesn’t know how these things work, if it’s karma or faith or destiny he has to thank for this, but he likes to believe that her coming back into his life at this exact moment was meant to be and he vows right then and there to never let her go. There’s still so much he wants to tell her, has to tell her, and he’s sure the same goes for her, but it doesn’t matter. Not now anyway. Now he just says, “If you’ll let me, I’m willing to fight.” He squeezes her hand, “For you.”

“Me too,” she whispers. “For you,” she looks at him then, “and for us.” She lets go of his hand a little, only so she can intertwine her fingers with his, leaning into him, her other hand on his arm. She nods towards the painting, “Do you like it?”

He looks at it then, really looks at it, taking in the different shades of green she’s used, which, even when they’re on opposite sides of the canvas, seem to pull towards each other, always meeting or almost meeting in the middle, and somehow he just gets it. “I do.”

“It’s called ‘The Draw’.” 

[cat-scratch-fandoms]

Midnight (Part 1)

(Midnight Series Masterlist)

Summary: (Y/N) is a woman that is in an unhappy marriage, one day she visits a dive bar after work and meets Daryl Dixon. 

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

Words: 2,217

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Unwanted sexual advances

Midnight is such an ominous time, everything bad seems to happen when the clock tolls. Cinderella was forced to leave the prince at the ball, and sometimes murders take place... However, it might be possible that some good things can occur at midnight. Maybe it was something in your drink that night that compelled you to sleep with him, but even if it was of your own volition it seems to have been a good decision. 

Your husband is an asshole, he’s not abusive, but he’s an asshole. You can’t remember the last time that you had sex with one another. When you first got together we were as close as could be. He would wait outside of your history classes for you, hoping just to do something as simple as giving you a hug. 

About a month into your marriage everything began to fall apart. He became distant and it seemed that there was no way to reach out to him, no way to hold onto him. You had sex, but it never was any good. It was rare that you had an orgasm. It was always quick and loveless, just so that he could meet his own end. 

A sigh left your lips and you closed your eyes for a moment “Alright, class. That’s enough for today. Keep working on your midterm projects with your groups. I will see you in class tomorrow!” You said, a fake smile reaching the corners of your mouth. With that, your final history class of the day was over.

As your class filed out of their seats you began to pack up your copious amounts of paper. You had considered going home, but you decided that it would be a better option to just go to a dive bar. You had been so busy the past few weeks and you felt like you deserved a drink. 

Once your things were packed up you grabbed your worn leather messenger bag and walked out of your classroom. You exchanged a few goodbye’s and good night's with people as you passed them. At the moment you were more concerned with getting to the dive bar. A sigh of relief left your lips as your approached your black Prius. 

With the click of a button on your keys, the head and tail lights on your car flashed while your horn beeped loudly. The clack of your heels on the asphalt parking lot echoed as you finished the walk to your car. After opening the door to your car you stepped in. 

Once you placed your messenger bag in the empty passenger's seat you began to drive. You never really played music in your car because it annoyed Shane, your husband. You never played music in your car, wore the color green, wore red lipstick, and you never ever wore tight clothes when you weren’t around him.

Some people might’ve called Shane controlling but to you, he was just easily annoyed. Your ears were filled with the droning sound of the air conditioner blasting to try and combat the aggressive Georgia heat. When you saw the glowing neon sign for the dive bar you pulled into the parking lot. 

Dive bars were never really your “scene”, so you were curious about how out of place you would look. After finding a parking space you got out of your lonely car. Once the door of your car was closed you turned towards the dive bar only to notice that there was a line of motorcycles there “Great.” You mumbled to yourself. 

You had never personally met a member of a biker gang, but you assumed that they were all pigs like in TV shows. You swallowed all of your nervous thoughts as the clicking noise your heels made returned. When you reached the doors of the bar you opened them with shaking hands. A few of the men playing pool turned to look at you, possibly curious as to why the doors had opened.

A quick glance around the room made you notice about six men with leather jackets. “The biker gang.” You thought to yourself. When most of the men had turned their attention away you began to walk towards the bar. Almost immediately after you took a seat at the bar a woman slipped over to you, the bartender “Hey there, I’m Holly. What can I get ya?” She asked with a charming smile on her face.

“I’ll have a whiskey, please.” You said, nodding. Once you had given your order Holly immediately began to pour it into a glass. You never really liked wine or beer, you preferred whiskey or scotch. Despite your dislike for wine, Shane insisted that you drink it over whiskey because he thought that whiskey was too many for a woman.

Holly soon handed you your whiskey with that same charming smile on her face. Your eyes stared at the amber liquid sitting idly at the bottom of the glass. As you were about to lift the glass to your lips you felt at least three sets of eyes on you. You were never normally given this much attention from men. Maybe it was because you were one of the only women in the bar.

Your body jolted slightly when you felt someone touch your shoulder “Hey there, doll.” A tall man with dark hair cooed. Reluctantly you turned your head towards him fully, only to see that he was wearing a leather jacket. You quickly glanced at the patch on the front of the man’s jacket “Negan.” The man said, sitting down on the stool next to yours.

You resisted scrunching your nose up at the name, it sounded pretty odd in your opinion. Perhaps Negan was just a nickname “I’m (Y/N).” You said simply. You were married and you certainly didn’t feel like getting flirted with by a biker. You had nothing against bikers in general, but this one just gave you a bad vibe.

“What’re you drinking there, (Y/N)?” He asked, leaning his elbow on the bartop. You could already tell that Negan was an overconfident man with the amount of sureness that he spoke with “Whiskey.” You answered Negan looked surprised by your answer “Whiskey? Damn!” He shouted, “I thought a woman like you would be drinking some kind of wine.” Negan bellowed. You could already tell that this man was a womanizer.

“Well, you would be mistaken.” You said curtly, not really wanting to talk to him. You were married and not in the mood to be flirted with. Your attention was drawn to his lips as his tongue swiped across them “Let me buy you another drink.” He cooed, leaning closer to you so that his face was close to yours.

You knew very well what those simple words meant, but you weren’t going to refuse a free drink, “Sure.” You answered. He then flagged down Holly and ordered you another glass of whiskey. You enjoyed your second drink with Negan, more so the drink than the company you shared it with. Every so often you would glance at his hands, expecting one of them to come to rest on your upper thigh at any moment.

Once your glass of whiskey was almost empty Negan placed his hand on your thigh, a mischevious smirk perking up at the corners of his mouth. In that moment you were resisting the urge to roll your eyes, only because of the fear that you would offend him. You simply ignored his advance as you sipped at the last of your whiskey.

Negan apparently didn’t get the hint as his hand soon began to inch up your skirt. Your body shivered, not because it felt good, but because his actions disgusted you. You placed your whiskey glass on the bar top calmly. You then turned your head to look at him “What do you say, doll? Want to head back to my place?” He asked in a voice that made your stomach lurch. 

Another shiver. You were completely disgusted. Before you could say a single word his mouth was against yours. You pursed your lips as he tried to kiss you. You began to lurch backward in an attempt to get away from him. After you leaned back too far you fell off the barstool. A small yelp left your no longer pursed lips as you fell into the lap of a skeezy looking middle-aged man. The thinly haired man looked down at your head that now lay in his lap “Hey darlin’.” He chuckled, his thick southern accent making you laugh.

You quickly pushed yourself up onto the barstool once again, mumbling a quick “I’m sorry”. When you were upright again the slightly younger looking man that was sitting on the barstool next to the man that you had fallen against stood up, “Is he bothering you?” The younger looking man asked, glancing from you to Negan. 

The man that had stood up had short light brown hair and a stoic-looking face.He was undeniably attractive, hey, just because you were married didn’t mean that you wouldn’t look at what was on the menu “Ye-” You began to say, “No, you were fine.” Negan interjected, making your blood boil. A frown grew on both the dark-haired man’s face as well as your own.

The man then stepped closer to Negan, trying to get into his face. When the rest of Negan’s biker gang noticed that their leader was being intimidated they began to flock towards Negan. He immediately waved his hand to signal his men to leave him be “What’s your name?” Negan asked, holding tense eye contact with the man that was selflessly defending you.

“Daryl.” He answered. When Daryl finally said his name you felt your body shiver again, but this time it was in a good way “I don’t think she want’s to have sex with you.” Daryl said, a low growling noise radiating from his chest. You stepped behind Daryl’s body as you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fight Negan “Well, I bought her a drink.” Negan said, a dark tone ringing in his voice.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw Negan clench his fist, raising it so that he could punch Daryl “Hey! If you punch him I will call the cops, Negan. I’m not shitting you this time!” Holly shouted, holding the wall phone in her hand. 

You looked at Holly and mouthed a subtle “thank you”. Holly nodded slightly at you before turning her attention back to negan “Get out, you and all your men.” Holly said sternly as she glared at the rest of Negan’s men that stood in the bar. Negan let out an exasperated sigh, glaring at Daryl. 

The man soon turned his malicious gaze towards you “This isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of me, doll.” Negan promised with a wink that made your stomach drop. You hated the way that he spoke and the way that he acted. When Negan and his men were out of the bar Daryl turned to look at you.

“I’m sorry that he wa-” He began “Well, baby brother, lookin’ to get some pussy?” The man you had fallen into laughing. Daryl shook his head dismissively at the question “Nah.” He scoffed. Daryl cleared his throat gently before looking down at you “That’s my older brother, Merle.” Daryl grumbled. It was either that he was ashamed of his brother or that he wasn’t one for conversation. Maybe both. 

You nervously wiped your hands on your skirt “Uh, thank you for helping me.” You said, looking down at your feet. You could feel Merle hovering around you and Daryl “Get some pussy, baby brother!” Merle shouted. You could already tell that there was a drastic difference between Daryl and his older brother “Hey, shut up, man.” Daryl growled, his head snapping towards his brother. 

“Alright, alright. Calm down, man.” Merle laughed, holding his hands up “Alright, you three get out too. It’s closing time.” Holly said, making a shooing motion with her hands. Both Daryl and merle tossed out a few crumbled up bills onto the bar top “Hey, what’s your name?” Holly asked, leaning over the bar to look at you “(Y/N)” You answered simply, smiling sheepishly at the woman. Holly nodded and she let out a long sigh.

“I’m so sorry that Negan was being such an asshole. He tends to be a dick sometimes. You’re welcome back here anytime that you like, and if Negan bothers you again I will be sure to call the cops.” She said, nodding gently.

You continued to smile sheepishly at her, “Alright, thank you.” You said quietly. You reached into your small purse to grab some money “No, (Y/N). It’s in the house.” Holly said. You knew that you weren’t going to convince her otherwise so you just nodded. 

You closed your purse again as you made your way to the door. Once you got outside you noticed that Merle had gone but Daryl was still standing there, standing next to his motorcycle.

Daryl cleared his throat gently and he licked his bottom lip “You okay to drive?” He asked. You were somewhat buzzed so you weren’t sure that you were going to be able to “I don’t really know. I might just sleep here in my car.” You said, shrugging slightly “Nah.” Daryl frowned “I’ll drive you home.” He said, wiping his hands on his jeans.

You were still shaken up by what had happened with Negan, but there was something about the rugged brown-haired man standing in front of you that made you feel dizzy. You began to fall forward, falling against him. You could feel Daryl stumble backward, but he stayed upright and wrapped his arms around you. 

“There’s no way you’re drivin’ home tonight.” He grumbled. A smile grew on your face when you felt the vibrations of his voice through his chest. You turned your head to look up at him. The space the two of you were standing in was dimly lit, but you could make out the blue in his eyes.

For some odd reason, you decided to lean up and kiss him. Daryl didn’t pull away from the kiss so you assumed that he didn’t know you were married. Your arms wound around his neck while his found their spots on your waist. 

The kiss began as a light and sloppy one, the sloppiness attributed to the light buzz that you were in. If you weren’t so drunk you probably would’ve cared about the fact that you were cheating on your husband of five years, but at this moment in time, nothing mattered to you aside from kissing this man.

Daryl’s hands squeezed your waist while your hands tangled in his short hair. Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. Daryl slowly pulled back from the kiss “Can I touch you?” He asked, panting gently. 

You let out a small sigh and nodded. You were shaken up by everything, but that didn’t mean that you were going to turn down getting laid by a hot guy. You nodded slightly, licking your bottom lip “Yes, but we should go into my car if we’re going any further.” You said. You knew that it was very unlikely that Shane or anyone you knew would come out to this bar, but you wanted to be careful.

Daryl just nodded, you were glad that he saw a reason for your suggestion. You took his hand and lead him towards your black car. A surprised yelp left your lips when you felt Daryl pinch your ass. Daryl appeared to be sexually confident, but you could tell by how he kissed you that he was somewhat inexperienced or submissive. 

You opened the back door to your car and stepped in, making your way to the seat on the other side of the car. Daryl got in after you, sitting next to you. You waited anxiously for the sound of the door closing before you made your way into his lap, letting out a gentle hum.

Daryl looked at you for a moment in the darkness of the car. He then grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You smirked gently at him “I don’t think it’s fair that you have your shirt still on.” You cooed, moving your hands up and down his chest “I would like to keep my shirt on, please.” Daryl mumbled.

You just nodded, deciding not to question why he didn’t want to take off his shirt. When you leaned in to kiss him his hands immediately moved to your hips, his rough fingers massaging the skin gently. As your lips mingled with one another’s you began to wonder why he hadn’t used his hands for anything else.

As you began to move your covered crotch against his you felt that he was hard. You continued to move your crotch against his bulge, fuck you were soaked “I... I want to let you know that I’ve never been um... dominant before. I’ve always had the girls do... ya know... it.” Daryl mumbled. The tone of his voice sounded like he was ashamed.

You just nodded your head, ceasing the movements of your hips “Alright.” You said simply. You had no problem with being dominant to with man you just met. This was just a one night stand. You could finally have an orgasm with more than just a dildo or your fingers for once.

You reached down and took off Daryl’s belt, listening to a small groan escape his lips. He then bucked his hips up “If this ever happens again, which it won't, I am going to make sure to teach you to be dominant with women.” You said softly. 

Daryl nodded and he bit the inside of his cheek. You maneuvered your body so that you were off of his lap. You then pulled down his jeans before pulling down your own “You are pretty damn hard.” You mumbled to yourself “I know.” Daryl grumbled. You had to imagine that he was in quite a bit of pain, it couldn’t have felt good to have an erection constrained by underwear.

You pulled down his boxers, humming gently. You watched lustfully as his boner sprung up and slapped against his stomach, bringing a groan forth from his lips. You couldn’t help but stare at his dick for a moment, it was surprisingly thick and long. Your mouth began to water slightly “Are you okay?” Daryl asked with a small laugh “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” You said with an awkward chuckle.

Shane was nothing compared to Daryl. A lot of people thought that your husband had a pretty big dick, but they were oh so wrong. You quickly tied your hair back into a ponytail before leaning down and licking Daryl’s pre-cum soaked penis head. Daryl let out a small groan and immediately moved his hand down to tangle his fingers in your hair.

A smirk grew on your face as he pushed your head down subtly. You immediately hollowed our your cheeks and did the best that you could to take most of his dick into your mouth. Daryl gasped sharply and cursed under his breath. You smirked again as he did his best to keep from pushing your head down.

You soon began to bob your head up and down slowly, enjoying the small gasps and moans that Daryl was making as you pleasured him. You continued to move your head faster, trying your best to lick at the underside of his penis.

Daryl’s body tensed “Fuck, fuck, fuck... I’m gonna fucking cum.” He groaned. You immediately pulled away and Daryl let out a deep whine “Why’d you do that?” He asked, you moved and helped Daryl lay down on the seat “I didn’t want you to cum too soon.” You said simply. 

Daryl just nodded as he looked up at you. You heard your phone buzz and you glanced at it. Shit, it was Shane. You chose to just ignore it and deal with it later “Who’s calling?” “No one, ignore it.” You said, pulling off your panties.

You could feel Daryl’s eyes burning into your skin as he gazed at your body. You straddled his waist. You took Daryl’s length into your hand, making him tense. You slowly dragged his tip through your folds, whining gently. Once his dick was covered in your slick you slowly sunk down onto him.

“Goddammit.” Daryl groaned, gripping onto your waist. Your eyes shut tightly as you took a moment to adjust to his immense length. He stretched you so perfectly and filled you completely to the brim. 

You slowly began to move slowly up and down his length “Fuck.” You mumbled as he gripped your hips. One of his hands trailed down as he began to rub your clit lightly. You continued to move up and down his length. You soon got annoyed by how little pressure Daryl was putting on your clit.

“More pressure, please.” You begged. A low growling noise came from Daryl’s chest as he began to press harder on your clit, making you cry out. You then began to move up and down his dick, crying out loudly. Daryl groaned and he used the hand on your hip to help you come down on him harder.

You listened intently to the sound of your skin slapping against him “Fuck, (Y/N), you’re soaking.” He grumbled. You glanced down for a moment, watching Daryl rub your clit while your juices splashed out on his stomach.

Daryl’s head arched back “Oh, oh fuck.” He mumbled as you clenched around him. A dark smirk grew on his face as he pressed hard against your clit “Come on, babygirl, cum for me.” He groaned. You began moving fast up and down his dick.

Animalistic moans were coming from both of you as you continued to slam down on him. Your orgasm took over you, squirting against him. Your eyes closed tightly and you placed your hands on his chest for support. Daryl continued to rub your clit, trying to milk everything he had out of you.

Daryl let out a small whine and he lifted you off of him, groaning loudly as he came. He kept a hand on your hip to keep you upright. You both panted softly, leaning your head down gently “Fuck. That was amazing.” You mumbled happily.

Daryl nodded as you moved off of one another “Sorry about your car.” He mumbled, beginning to get dressed. You glanced at the cum on the seat and you shook your head “It’ll be fine.” You said, gathering your clothes to get dressed. 

Daryl soon got dressed and stepped out of the car, waiting for you to get out. You stepped out of the car and began to smooth down your skirt “Can I have your number?” He asked as he licked his bottom lip gently.

You smiled gently at him and shook your head “No, but you can meet me here next Friday night.” You said softly. Perhaps you were being a little too bold with what you were saying. You were a married woman, but at this point, you didn’t care. 

Daryl kissed your cheek gently and winked at you “See you then.” He said with a gentle smile on his face. You watched Daryl leave and get on his motorcycle. You dipped into the backseat of your car to clean off the cum and you noticed that he had left his leather vest. 

You turned it over and looked at the cloth angel wings that were sewn onto the back of the vest. You let out a small sigh as you stuffed it under the front seat. You had a reason to see him again and again. You were going to have an affair, and you didn’t give a single shit.

Daryl made you happy and you weren’t going to let that go. After you had cleaned the cum off of the seat before getting into your driver's seat and began to make your way back home to Shane.

I’m sorry if this is terrible. I promise that the chapters themselves and the smut scenes will get better if you keep reading :)

[toogaytowrite]

What Awaits the Shiny Happy People

This fic operates under the assumption the speculated “cult/Halloween ending” is the true ending, and that Robert knows as much about the cult and Joseph's true nature as Mary. )

For the first time in months (if he were being honest with himself, years) Robert didn't smell of cigarettes and whiskey. Well, he only sort of smelled of whiskey, as that scent wasn't going to come out of his clothes and his skin and his sweat any time soon. He had at least made an effort to shower and mask some of the smell with one of the few bottles of cologne he didn't buy at a truck stop. He didn't have that nagging part of his subconscious telling him he smelled when Simon nestled close. He could just enjoy the feeling of his form slotting in against his side like a missing piece of a puzzle. God, he had to scoff. Puppy love like his wasn't his thing. Completely ruined his image as the lone wolf in the leather jacket when he waxed in his mind with Shel Silverstein-esque poetry about missing pieces. Still. He was okay.

He was okay being in this moment, with people he'd come to care for. Being okay had become an exceedingly rare thing for him in the past few years.

Eyes half-lidded and voice drifting between being awake and falling asleep on his shoulder, Simon eventually sighed, “I should probably go mediate Mary and Amanda. I'm pretty sure the graduation present she gave her was a flask.”

“Damn, she completely ripped off my idea.”

“Please don't encourage my daughter to drink under the age.”

“You don't have to use flasks for booze. You can fill it with water, apple juice, liquid cyanide. It's multipurpose.”

“So are water bottles, which are more commonly associated with non-alcoholic drinks on the go.”

“What's stopping anyone from filling those with vodka and passing it off as water? S'what I do whenever I go to the gym.”

“We both know you never go to the gym.” Simon stood, moving slow and almost reluctant, his fingers lingering as long as possible as they ran up Robert's arm. That was just his nature. He was patient and mercifully slow even when opening old wounds. When he said he was willing to wait, he knew those were more than empty promises. Robert felt the smile creeping on his face and tried hiding it behind his hand. “Also Val is showing off her knives to Hazel and Briar, you may want to talk to her about that. We don't want them turning into the delightful children from down the lane, if you know what I mean.”

“Can do.”

Simon flashed him a grin and turned just as Amanda took a swig of something from her new flask across the yard. She instantly yanked it away from her mouth to give him a sheepish grin. Mary just looked the other way. Robert watched his back as he made his way over, because where else would his eyes be? On his ass? Certainly, but he told himself he should tear himself away from those admittedly plush glutes to probably also make sure Val wasn't handing out knives to the younger party goers. As he moved to stand, a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back down against the bench. The mere touch sent electricity down his spine into his legs. He turned and a pasty blonde face looked down at him.

“Great party, huh?” Joseph's lips split apart in a smile just wide enough to show off a flash of canines. The epitome of Robert's mistakes and regrets made manifest. He roughly shouldered his hand away, turning back around. The air was too thin around him.

“Yeah. Great.” Better when Joseph was on the other end, not paying Robert any mind. Bad enough he had to see him around the neighborhood and attend his stupid barbecues, now he actually wanted to talk. Like they were just neighbors enjoying a graduation party.  

Joseph slid into the seat next to him and the tranquility he and Simon had cultivated in this corner of the party curdled. Despite wanting to look anywhere else, he glanced at him out of his peripheral. A sliver of a pink cherry blossom shaken loose by a breeze landed on Joseph's shoulder and wilted into a limp, brown husk. He pinched it between two fingers, flicking it away.

“I'm so proud of Amanda. I pray my kids turn out as good as her.” He chuckled at the joke only he knew as he smoothed out the wrinkle he'd made in his sleeve. “And Val. She's become a lovely young woman. I bet you're happy to see her again.”

Robert's fingers wrapped around a fistful of his jeans. “Don't play this coy bullshit with me, Joseph. If you have something to say, say it. Don't dance around the subject like I'm some putz that doesn't know what you are.”

He smiled and if it weren't for the fact Robert's fists were white knuckled against his knees, he would have punched the smug fuck. He knew that wasn't the only reason he didn't do it. He knew he couldn't even if he tried.

“It's just that, well... I've seen how close you two have gotten. Late night drives, when you think I'm not watching you.” The figure made by something that didn't know what a man was supposed to look like flashed in his mind. That night, they'd both seen that thing on the edge of the treeline. Robert's stomach tied in knots.

He should have known better. He should have just kept driving with Simon right out of Maple Bay, until they hit the border into Mexico or drove straight into the ocean. Joseph held the sleeve of his sweater and rubbed the material between two fingers. Seeing that damn thing around his neck made him want to strangle him with it. He went on in his aggravatingly nonchalant way of speaking, “He hasn't been here that long, has he? Feels like it was only yesterday he drove into our little cul de sac.”

“It's just sex, alright?” Robert spat, “Meaningless, on the verge of whiskey dick, shoving him out the door the next morning, petty sex. Give him a few months before you start getting paranoid.”

“And I support you in any of your sexual escapades, one hundred percent! And I know you are exceedingly talented in keeping those matters where they belong. But you know you can't lie to me.”

I see through you went unsaid, but the words floated somewhere in the air between them, silent yet piercing. Somewhere across the lawn, laughter erupted from the group surrounding Amanda. She beamed. She looked so happy, Simon's arms slung around her shoulder, basking in the glow of everyone congratulations. It felt completely alien. Like watching a television too far away to make out the details. The few feet of space between him and the rest of the party might as well have been miles. Robert was alone and adrift in a boat ready to capsize. He glanced down at the perfectly manicured hands folded over each other, hands that had once held his and pinned him against the wall in a fit of passion.

Joseph was the thing under the water's surface waiting to pull him down if he made one mistake.

It was a precarious truce they'd come to over the years. Not so much a truce as a threat- that if Robert ever told anyone what he knew, he would lose the one thing he had left in this world. He hadn't always been good to Val. That had nothing to do with Joseph, he was a shitty person before they met and he would be a shitty person forever. He couldn't blame that facet of his personality on him. But he had lived with the knowledge that Val was okay somewhere. Alive, maybe even happy. If he stepped a toe out of line, he was putting her in danger. It didn't matter that she was states away, didn't even matter that he himself didn't know where she lived, he knew what Joseph was capable of.

“I like him, Robert. Really, I do. He is genuinely a kind person. I enjoy his company quite a bit. It would bring me no joy to rob Amanda of the only parent she has left.” His voice was almost soft, or as close an approximation as a thing like Joseph could muster. If Robert didn't know any better, he'd swear he was being sincere. But he knew better. “It would crush everyone to lose him.”

“It's just sex,” he insisted.

“You're usually such a good liar.” He sighed, patting his hand on Robert's shoulder as he stood. He instantly bristled. He couldn't pull away. His nerve endings froze over, his body felt filled with static nothingness, not even dread or ice, just...static. “You know better than anyone how this works. Consider this a friendly reminder what awaits the shiny happy people in our community if they get too happy.”

Color flooded back into the world once he let go. His peppy, hip youth minister mask slotted back into place. He integrated back into the party and no one was any the wiser. No one alive would think ill of him. Everyone just thought he was a good man trapped in a loveless marriage. They pitied him. Seeing him laughing with Craig, cracking Jokes with Damien, Robert felt ill knowing all the heartache he'd caused these unsuspecting men. He was so light-headed when he finally stood he had to hold onto the tree trunk for support.

“You okay, Pops?” Val's voice, which had filled him with such pride and relief just this morning when she said she was coming out, now made him shudder. She put her hand in the middle of his back, head tipped to look him in the eye. He avoided her gaze. “That looked kinda intense. What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” he barked, a little hastier and rougher than he would have liked. It was enough to make her flinch, and he's never hated himself more.

“You look really... pale. Did he say something-”

“It's nothing, just drop it.”

Her mouth set in a thin line and her nostrils flared. She looked so much like her mother when she did that. Suddenly her being there made him wish she was a continent away, that he had never spoken to her again.

She threw Joseph the side eye. “Honestly, that guy never did sit right with me. Gives me the creeps.”

Robert whirled around to grab her by both shoulders. The movement was so sudden she almost yelped and her eyes went wide. “Good. Stay far, far away from him.”

He leaves the party without a word to anyone. That night, he packs her things, and Val is on a flight back home by morning. She isn't even angry with him. She expects it by now. He doesn't leave the house for a week afterward, and every message that dings on his computer from Dadbook goes unread. He doesn't answer the door or pick up his phone.

Eventually, Simon stops trying.  

[fearlessinspace]

Summary: Decisions from her dark past are still haunting her. Nonetheless, she did what had to be done.

Note: This is a fic I’ve written for @trekken81‘s Star Trek Music thing, and it’s obviously based on the song Undisclosed Desires by Muse. This is also the first song-based story I’ve ever written in my life, and I’m not even sure if it’ll make any sense to you (dear readers) but this is how I interpreted the song. Enjoy! <3

P.S. this is set a bit after Jim woke up from his “death” in Star Trek: Into Darkness, but before his final speech at the end of the movie (though it’s included, I tweaked it a bit so it fit the story); also keep in mind that Bones’s brows are ambidextrous

Word count: 2338

She received a rather fancy double-door entrance and fortunately no eyes landed on her. Blissful relief came immediately, so instead of just standing in front of the see-through glass doors, she nervously adjusted her dress and took slow and careful steps into the mingling crowd. She smiled up to people who recognized her, content with the fact nobody was making a fuss – mostly because everybody understood the reason behind her actions.

After all, it was an official Starfleet event; it would be out of the question for someone to make a scene. And unbeknownst to her, no one was even temped.

The clicks of her heels, which she did not like but were de rigueur for the night, against the marble floor were muted by the murmurs of the guests, who, as it appeared, split in groups, each group around each golden table. Walking aimlessly in a straight line, she picked up a crystal glass appropriately filled with golden champagne from the waiter’s tray and whispered a polite thank you.

Despite impeccable eyesight, some of the lights were just too bright, her vision blurring after a direct eye contact with one of the massive royal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

In the corner of her eye she noticed a group of familiar people and immediately turned for their table. It’s not that she was completely unknown with the rest of the guests – quite the contrary. As an ex-captain, she was familiar with all the current captains, admirals and commanders. It’s just that that group of people – she’d dare to still call them friends. She slowed down as she was nearing the table, noticing that’s she’d unconsciously sped up at the sight of them. She approached with a beaming smile gracing her cheeks and a golden glow mixing with the green in her irises.

“Look at that smile! It’s good to see you again.”

Hikaru was the first to walk up and kiss her cheek, a genuine act of kindness and care towards a very dear friend – one whom he’d known for years and years. Nyota, Scotty and Bones followed, with the same, honest smile, but each with a different light in their eyes.

“How’ve you been doing?” Uhura asked, leaning just lightly on the table, hints of concern in her voice.

Logical. As expected. But not unwelcome.

“I’m fine, I guess. Definitely better than before.”

The moment her smile turned to porcelain, fragile and delicate, but with light cracks on the edges, she could notice that everybody’s eyes turned cloudy, eyebrows raising just slightly, indicating concern.

But it’s when a tall, lean, well-dressed figure appeared behind her, a hand placed in good manner on the middle of her back, and she jumped slightly, frightened by sudden contact, that everybody’s face dropped, concern replaced with a look that screamed what Bones dared to whisper.

“Good god, what the hell is going to happen next?”

Recognizing the familiarity of his scent, the gold in his strands, the softness in his simultaneously steely, yet tired eyes, she was infinitely grateful for placing the champagne glass down on the table before it all even happened. It’s because now, the hand in which the glass was held, was shaking almost uncontrollably.

And she was through with walking on broken glass and spilling blood.

He turned her around, placed his hand just above hers and asked ever so softly, apprehension and desperation laced in the words, his voice so low that only she could’ve heard it, while the rest stood behind, observed, waited for a volcano to erupt.

“Could we go and talk?”

Long before connecting four letters and answering the man, she was busy with letting her brain analyze the situation she was in. In between the shaky arm and gaping mouth, her eyes showed nothing but confusion, the glow from before completely gone.

“Sure.” She muttered, just a bit louder, enough for the three behind her to work it out, which resulted in 5 raised eyebrows and lots of forehead creases.

She turned her head towards her friends one last time before leaving the table with her quondam partner, her lips formed in an etiolated smile.

Their walk from one side of the room to another seemed like it lasted for an entire century – in slow-motion, without words, without any unnecessary stops along the way. She was brought to an empty table in the corner of the room, two glasses of rosé already in place, most probably preordered by the flagship’s captain.

They leaned on the table, in similar positions but with totally different actions; while he clasped his hands together, reaching one third of the table, his sapphire eyes cemented, not moving away from her green ones, she already took a small sip of her wine and was apparently deep in thought, her finger drawing invisible circles on the glass top of the table. Obviously – she was nervous. Visibly – he was worried.

I know you've suffered

But I don't want you to hide

It's cold and loveless

I won't let you be denied

It was due time to break the silence.

“It’s been a while.” He stated, hoping it would be enough for a safe start.

“10 months, 7 days, 19 hours. It’s been quite a long indeed.” She replied, poison in her words, but apparently ineffective on James Kirk.

“Please. I hope you are feeling better than the last time we spoke.” But no effect on her either. “I still have nail marks on my palms. Holding on with a titanium grip is not the most effective way to part.”

He raised his right hand, the back of it shown to her, which inevitably caused a smile to spread wide on her lips.

“You see? You’re better.”

Good. He thought to himself. She’s softened up.

“I still have occasional haunting dream depriving me of a healthy good night’s sleep. Not the best feeling in the world.” She gazed down at her glass, now playing with the rim.

“I can help you with that.”

Instant regret. Bad choice of words.

Her eyes immediately shot up, fire in her irises burning much like the sun, but intertwined with anger. However, after just a moment, it cooled down, the fire replaced by tiredness and slight irritation.

“Dammit, Jim, we’ve already been over this. I don’t want to do this right now.”

She picked up her glass, almost spilling its contents on the pearlescent floor, and stormed off in the direction of the terrace.

James took a moment to stare at her figure waltzing away before following, mind stuck, frozen in place, just a single thought on repeat.

Soothing

I'll make you feel pure

Trust me

You can be sure

“Hey!” He yelled, just a tad louder than he intended, making some of the eyes jump on him for just a second, but quickly dismissed it.

The tinted glass door swished open, revealing a lonely figure leaning on the railing, her bare feet on the ground – heels in one hand, burning cigarette in the other.

Careful not to chase her away or break whatever frail’s left of her, he took slow and conscientious steps towards the young woman, minutes later joining her on the edge.

Not even facing her, afraid of what he might see, he spoke.

“You don’t smoke.”

She exhaled, smoke exiting her lungs through her nostrils, disappearing into the starry night’s sky.

“You know I do. At least when I need to.”

But the idea of her smoking is not what worried him. It was simply the reason behind it.

“I’m sorry. You know I never mean to provoke you.” He said and finally turned to her, his eyes growing sadder as he eyed the tired, tugged-at skin where a smile used to be.

“And you know that we’d talked about all this before. You remember how the people reacted. How everybody reacted when the files got out. You know there’s no going back.”

“I know, I read the files. I read everything you did since you became captain of the Ulysses.” Now, a fiery passion interlaced with anger filled his voice, as it grew louder and more pissed as the sentences passed.

“I know that the U.S.S. Ulysses had an incident near Troyius where seven members of the crew were surrendered to the Klingon Empire under captain’s orders in order to save the rest of the ship and the entire Federation from a possible war with said Klingons. I know that one of the crewmembers was your closest personal friend. I also know that even though the official order was yours, the crewmembers literally begged to be taken away, since there was no other way out. I know everything because I bothered to read past the captain’s orders part. Because I know that you wouldn’t willingly to such a thing. And when I say there’s no way out, that must mean something.”

It’s just when he finished his rant that he noticed her eyes were filling with tears, the whites turning pinkish red and the irises widening significantly. He instantly calmed his temper, just then aware of what emotions he could’ve caused, and moved just slightly towards her. He tried placing a hand on her cheek but it was instantly slapped away.

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

“Dammit, Jim! I was blamed – and still am – for their deaths. I am guilty nevertheless. I’ve been labelled a tyrant, a killer and a letdown. I’ve had people come up to me, stare into my eyes and blame me for their deaths. And it’s not even because I’m a damn Romulan. I still can’t sleep, I can’t handle simple things. I haven’t spoken to anyone in months, Jim.”

“No, no-“ He tried to stop and console. But it was far too late.

“This is exactly why I asked for space.” Her voice calmed, and dropped almost to a whisper. She let go of her heels and put a free hand to her forehead, trying to cool her heated head down. “If I can’t even handle myself anymore, I couldn’t even try and handle another person. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do, Jim.” She pursued her lips, tears in her eyes backing away, but her glare still as hopeless as before.

“I know.” He stepped just a few inches closer, slowly closing in the space between them. “I’ve seen you around. And other people have, too. Most of them are sure that you’re over it, that you stand behind your decision, not proudly, but admirably. To them you don’t look broken at all. But I’m not them.”

He paused to breathe, feeling like he was choking on thin air just by pouring out just what she’d looked like to him all these months. Only to him, it was so obvious just how damaged she was, both externally and internally. He just felt the human need to soothe her and repair what needs repairing. It’s what love makes you do.

He then whispered, their bodies now just a few inches away.

“Please. Remove the mask.”

You trick your lovers

That you're wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine

She was so indulged in his words and his eyes that she didn’t even feel his hands on her waist; she didn’t even notice how close he suddenly was.

Please me

Show me how it's done

Tease me

You are the one

A single tear escaped her right eye, but was immediately wiped by the man’s thumb, his hand being left there, caressing the now wet skin on her high cheekbone.

Before he could even ascertain what was going on, her hands bolted to the sides of his jaw and pulled him down to her height, her pair of lips pressing softly onto his own, the pairs soon achieving perfect sync.

Please me

Show me how it's done

Trust me

You are the one

“There will always be those who mean to do us harm. To stop them, we risk awakening the same evil within ourselves. Our first instinct is to seek revenge when those we love are taken from us. But that's not who we are. We are here today to rechristen the U.S.S. Enterprise, and to honor those who lost their lives.”

James made an unplanned pause, causing every present soul to rise their head, faces neutral but eyes bewildered.

James knew what the plan was, but felt the immensely strong need to make an exception. He knew that the entire speech was being broadcasted all over San Francisco.

He was doing what was necessary.

Looking up from his text, he let his eyes roam the sea of officers, exhaling before continuing with his speech.

“Respect is something that’s earned, never taught. Having been captain for almost three years, I’ve truly learned a lot, only from the best. Being captain requires making difficult decisions, ones that either keep life, or take life, for the sake of the greater good. Mutual trust is developed and kept between the captain and the crew and it’s vital for further success. But what’s inevitable is the loss of life. It’s not about the needs of many outweighing the needs of one, it’s about having courage and sense of value of what your actions leave for posterity. And that’s what the seven crewmen of the U.S.S. Ulysses were aware of when they willingly sacrificed their lives in order to keep peace in this part of the galaxy.”

He stopped once more, just to look towards her, elated to once more see a smile on her face.

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

“Space, the final frontier.”