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Apple Blossom. Left in Lincoln, pt. 4

7.5k / dads best friend!Joel x virgin!Reader 

story master list / joel miller master list

His cheeks turned a little pink and his eyes lit up. He handed you the rag.   "What?" you asked. “Nothin',” he said softly and shook his head. “You sure are pretty, darlin’. That’s all.” He dried his hands then gave your butt a squeeze. The moment of domesticity almost made you forget the town was rotting away beneath your feet. 

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni, slow-burn horror w/ potentially disturbing implicit content, big girthy age gap (20s/50s), plot, angst, toxic/dark fluff, gaslighting, manipulation, pressure, grooming, grinding, fingering, oral M receiving, pet names and praise.  Very TOXIC, dark Joel. Impaired editing.

You fell asleep in Joel’s arms and woke up alone in your bed.  The apple blossom was gone from your night stand. You showered and got dressed. You couldn’t find your baseball cap and realized the last time you wore it was in Joel’s orchard.  When you came downstairs, Bill and Frank's bedroom door was open.  Before you could investigate, you heard screeching outside, then cursing. You ran to the door.  Joel was waving his arms and a crow was flying away from him.  He had a screwdriver in one hand. He stood up and smoothed his shirt and a feather floated away from him.  He was wearing Frank's clothes with his hair freshly slicked back from a shower.    

You went outside and looked down at the open vent. You asked, “How’d you get it to come out?”

Joel shrugged with his arms hanging heavy at his sides.  "Nowhere else to go. Gotta be patient sometimes.” He bent one knee and put the hand with the screwdriver on his hip, looking up at the roof of the house. He squinted at the chimney.  “I reckon we left the fireplace vent open the other night.” 

You approached Joel and he extended his free hand for a hug.  He stroked your head and looked at you lovingly.  You were still taking that in -  the fact that Joel told you he loved you.  He gave you a kiss on the head and inhaled your scent.  Then he went to screw the vent back into the side of the house, and your eyes followed his ass.  That was one thing about Joel always having his shirt tucked in - You were very aware of his ass. He was so muscular, almost statuesque to you. His proportions reminded you of classic art. 

Joel glanced back as he bent over and your cheeks burned as you looked away from his body.  

“Can we plant the strawberries today?” You asked.

“Not the season, darlin’. Won’t survive.”

“Ours are still alive," you said. 

“Really?” he asked skeptically. 

"Yeah, they just never fruited."

“Show me.”  Joel finished screwing the vent back into place then stood up and brushed off his knees.  

You led him to the failed strawberry patch and showed him the plants. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Joel said and squatted down to finger the leaves.  "You wanna bring’em, guess we can try it."

You were excited to surprise Frank and Bill with fresh strawberries. Once they fruited, maybe you could transplant them somewhere at home too. 

"Grab a spade and bucket outta the shed. Some of that cloth, too." 

You returned with the requested supplies and Joel said, "Alright, I’ll work on this and you can pick some veggies to take with us if ya want." 

“We’re not coming back today?” 

“Not ‘til we figure out what’s goin’ on, darlin’.” He put his hands on his knees and stood back up with a groan.  “Anything else you wanna plant from here? Arugula?”  

You were still processing the idea of leaving home for multiple days.  “Sure. Wait, what if we get the computers back up to check the cameras?” you asked. “Then we can see if it’s safe.” 

He wiped his brow with the back of the flannel sleeve.  “Just looked at ‘em. All static. Lines must've been cut.  Been down at least a few days." 

"What??" A pit formed in your stomach.  This whole time, you should’ve been even more scared than you were.  Joel sensed your fear. He stepped forward and put his arm around you.  He cradled your head against him.  He smelled a little like Frank.  

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not leavin’ you again," he reassured you.  The low vibration of his voice in his chest was an extra layer to the hug. 

You tried to shake off the dark mood that fell over you. "Can we make apple juice?” you asked.  

“Sure we can, peaches.”

-

Joel uprooted some strawberry and arugula while you picked vegetables then brought them inside.  You got out the empty apple juice jar to take with you and took the cider jar out of the fridge, too.  

Joel walked in and froze. “You’re not drinkin’ that, are ya?” 

“No,” you said, but you didn’t want to offend him since he brewed it.  “Not right now.”

“But you did?” He stepped forward and looked so serious.  Your face went cold.

“Well, no-”

"You shouldn’t be drinkin’ without me, darlin’.  It’s not safe.”  There was an air of judgment in his  voice. You were embarrassed, but shouldn't have been.  You were old enough to drink and your house was full of wine. You could have a drink alone if you wanted to.  Joel extended his hand and looked at you sternly. “Gimme that.”  You felt defensive as if you had done something wrong. Even knowing you hadn't.  You suddenly realized you had no idea where his bottle of whiskey was that he left there days ago.   He might have thought you drank it, too.  You were mortified. 

“I was just gonna pour it out so we could use the jar,” you explained as he opened the cider.  Joel's face softened and he poured it out in the sink. 

“Got plenty of jars at home, baby. Good idea though."  He rinsed the jar then patted the back of your head tenderly. It wasn't enough to soothe the feeling of being scolded, but the feeling would fade. You had bigger things to worry about anyway. He just wanted to keep you safe. 

-

On the walk to Joel’s house, you told him all about the night before.  How Abe didn’t come by, then you heard Abe's truck, but didn’t see him.  You told him about the songs playing on the radio station, which gave you chills to even think about.  

Joel heard the distress in your voice and stopped dead in his tracks, disturbed.  “Sorry I wasn’t there, darlin’.  Never shoulda left ya." He took a deep, ragged breath in. He cupped your cheek.   “Guess I didn’t wanna be a bother if ya didn't want me stickin' around.” 

You felt a wave of guilt for sending him home each night.  You imagined him walking alone in the dark worrying about you, thinking he was bothering you.  

"It's okay, Joel," you reassured him.  "I should've asked you to stay." 

"It's not okay, baby.”  He shook his head at himself, then looked at you with grave concern.  “What if somethin' happened?" 

"Well, I guess it didn’t.  I'm okay," you said. 

He sighed and cradled the back of your head.

"But I'm worried about Abe," you added. 

Joel dropped his hand, and looked off into the distance, jaw muscle flexing.  

"What if he's in trouble?" you asked. 

Joel took a deep breath and looked in the direction of Abe’s property.  "Tell ya what, darlin'. I'll go check on him today, how’s that sound?”

The distress melted away from your face. “Thank you,” you gushed and wrapped him in a hug.  He kissed the top of your head.

A bird cried and both of you turned toward the sound.  It was a crow.  It followed you the rest of the way to Joel's house, squawking obnoxiously.  

-

It was your first time being in Joel’s house.  It was about as neat and clean as you expected for the most part.  It smelled woodsy and nutty, like pine and almonds, and faintly of apples.  He led you upstairs to a spare bedroom and left you there to get settled in. He said to let him know if you needed anything.  

You walked around the room and picked things up. There was a dresser, a vanity, and a mirror.  On top of the vanity was a jewelry box and a hairbrush.  A stationary set.  There was a stool at the vanity and a box fan on the floor.  

Everything was so perfect and comfortable. It was what you imagined a hotel might be like. Clean and cozy. You sat down on the neatly made bed and took your shoes off. Joel came back a few minutes later and stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked around the room then nervously put his hands in his pockets.  He asked, "What do you think?" 

"It's amazing." 

He looked relieved.  He came over to sit next to you on the bed.  "Good," he said.  He smiled and his eyes scanned your body.  He caressed your neck and planted a kiss on your cheek.  

"Can we pick apples to make the juice today?"

"Not today, darlin'. Not 'til we're sure it's safe." He raised your hand to his mouth and kissed it.  "Got some apples in the kitchen, though." 

-

Joel made lunch and told you about the different improvements he made to the house and orchard in the past few years.   You asked for a tour and he said you could have one after he knew the community was secure.  He got up and took the dishes to the sink.  He turned on the water to wash them and you got up and volunteered to do them instead. It seemed only fair since he made lunch. You stood next to him at the sink and reached for the rag. His cheeks turned a little pink and his eyes lit up. He hesitantly handed you the rag with a slight smile.    

“What?” you asked. 

“Nothin',” he said softly and shook his head, looking at the floor.  He looked back up at you and sucked his bottom lip.  “You sure are pretty, darlin’. That’s all.” He dried his hands on a clean towel, then gave your butt a little squeeze. You smiled and giggled silently.  The moment of domesticity made you forget the town was rotting away beneath your feet. 

Joel moved to stand close behind you and put his hands on your hips.  He spoke softly into the crown of your head.  “I'll go take a look around the neighborhood and check on Abe.”  

You turned your head and nodded, “thank you, Joel.” 

His voice got low and serious, but remained gentle.  “Stay here. Don't go outside.” 

You nodded again. 

“You don't answer the door for anyone but me.  Real important, okay?"

You put down the dish in your hand and turned around to face him fully. "Okay."

"Even if you think you know 'em. Don't know who could be infected." He swallowed regretfully. 

You nodded in agreement, "Okay."

His hands on either side of your hips casually caged you against the sink.  He gently pressed his hips, then his lips into yours.

“Back before sundown,” he muttered. 

He put on a jacket, went down to the cellar, and returned with two firearms. He handed you a pistol, put on his jacket, and kissed you goodbye.  He winked as he left, then locked the door behind him from the outside.  

-

While Joel was out, you got curious and bored. You  walked around the house.  The first door you tried to open was locked.  The second one led down to the cellar.  You took a few steps down and tried to reach the light string that hung from the ceiling.  it swung away.  After another step down, the door behind you began to close.  You panicked and lunged up the stairs to keep it open.  That was stupid. You could have gotten locked in.  You scurried up the stairs back into the living room.  Once you caught your breath, you shut the door behind you and didn't go back.   

Another door was a closet.  Jackets, hats, boots. You saw an old Red Sox hat and your heart skipped a beat.  Your first thought was Jesse.  Your heart pounded in your chest and you weren’t sure why.  It was probably yours.  Joel must have scooped it up when you left it in the orchard.  It could have faded from the elements.  You had the strongest urge to touch and smell the hat, but you didn’t dare disturb it.  Joel seemed like the type to know exactly how things were. You didn't want him to know you were snooping.  

You didn’t try any more doors after that.  You went back to the kitchen.  You opened the pantry and there were two crates of jars, one of them locked. You looked around the opposite counter from where you had been doing the dishes.  A basket of apples, a jar of apple seeds. A fresh branch in a vase of water with a budding blossom.  You held up the vase and smelled the bud. 

You were startled from the moment by a faint scraping and clinking sound outside.  You fumbled the vase and almost dropped it but caught it.  Your pulse sped up and your eyes darted to the window.  You put the vase down and walked to the kitchen door which looked out into the backyard and orchard.  You put your hand on the knob, then changed your mind, Joel’s cautionary words fresh in your ears.  You stood at the window and looked.  You didn’t see anything.  You heard it again. It sounded like it was coming from the back of the orchard, which you couldn’t see.  All you saw was dirt, grass, a fire pit, neat rows of tree after tree, dead leaves tumbling across the ground with the wind.  Maybe it was the wind.  

When you heard it again, you were unsettled enough to step away from the window.  You went back up to the bedroom, figuring it was the safest place.  You covered yourself in the quilt and hugged one of several pillows, waiting for Joel's return, hiding, praying no one was around.  Hoping no one could possibly know you were there.  Grateful you weren't home alone at a time like this. You kept the bedroom door open so you'd be able to see trouble if it came. 

-

You dozed off and awoke when the back door to the kitchen unlocked downstairs.  Your heart raced and it took a moment to remember where you were.  It was almost dusk outside.  You quietly slid out from under the quilt and prepared to cautiously venture downstairs, assuming it was Joel who just came in the house.  A door closed downstairs, then the water heater turned on. You pulled the quilt back over you and turned off the light, waiting in the dark. After about ten minutes of lying there slowing your heart rate, the water turned off. A few minutes later, a door opened downstairs again. You wished you could fast forward to the next time you'd be in Joel's arms. 

You felt a presence.  "Joel?" It came out far quieter than you intended, but you were too afraid to repeat it louder. The stairs quietly creaked with padded footsteps. The creaking got closer and closer, then stopped.  You sat frozen, looking at a looming shadow in the hall, trying to make sense of it as Joel’s silhouette. The shape looked jagged, angry, nothing like him.  

“Peaches?” his voice made you jump; it was much closer than you thought.  Your hand came to your chest as he stepped into view and asked, “You okay? Thought you might be nappin', didn't wanna wake ya up.'” 

"I'm okay," you said and took a deep breath. "What's going on?"

Joel approached the bed and sat down with his hand on your knee. He was freshly showered and dressed in his own clothes again.  

"I think Abe left, darlin'."    

"Left?? Why??" 

"I dunno, sugar. It was like he just packed up." 

You were stunned. Abe couldn't possibly have packed up and left. This didn't explain anything at all.  You'd have to see it to believe it.  

"No. He wouldn't just leave," you said and got de ja vu. You were quiet. Nothing felt right.  You spent the whole afternoon scared and alone, and now this?

"Sorry, peaches. Didn't know you were close."

"We weren't. I just - I'm surprised. He didn't say anything this week, did he?"

"Sure didn't." 

"Just like Jesse,” you whispered. 

Joel inhaled through his nose as though calming himself. 

“I don't understand it," you said. 

Joel was quiet for a moment.  "People leave, darlin'. But I promise you I won't.  Not ever." 

You mustered half a grateful smile and indulged him. “Promise?”

"Never.”  He looked gravely serious.  “Not unless I take you with me,” he said softer. 

“Thanks,” you said. 

He shook his head.  “I mean it, peaches.  Nothin' in this world could take me away from you." He stroked your thigh and leaned in for a much-needed kiss. 

Then he put his arm around you, rubbed your shoulder, and leaned his temple against yours.  You sat side by side on the bed in silence for a minute, then Joel said, “been a rough day or two, huh?" 

You nodded pensively. 

"I know what we need." 

"What?" 

"How 'bout a special dinner?” he lifted your chin with his finger and your eyes met his affectionately. "There she is." 

"Okay."

"Put on somethin' nice, I'll get cookin'."

“Oh, I didn’t bring much,” you said, embarrassed. 

“Let's check the closet,” he said with a wink. "See what got left behind." 

He kissed you on the head and stood up. It was a shallow closet that rolled open from two doors to expose a single rack of clothes.  He rolled open the left door and there were five or six dresses. They didn't look like anything Ellie or Tess would wear and you didn't know who else could have left them behind. Whoever lived there before, you supposed.   

Joel pulled out two coathangers. A floral wrap dress and a low cut burgundy sweater dress. "See what ya like," he said softly with a sparkle in his eye.  "Take your time. I'll get cookin'." He winked and put the hangers back in the closet before leaving you to the task. 

You stayed seated on the bed and stared into space for a while, thinking about Abe.  Then you got up and put on the burgundy dress. It was a perfect fit. You stood in front of the vanity as the smell of fried rabbit wafted upstairs. You primped yourself and touched your neck, looking yourself in the eyes.  You wanted to be happy, but your eyes were sad.  You opened a dresser drawer looking for socks.  Sure enough, there was a small drawer full of socks and stockings.  Another drawer full of underwear, and even the same type of fabric washable pads you had to use for your period. You dreaded your period coming in a few days. That probably wasn't helping your mood.

-

Joel served a candlelit dinner at a card table in his living room. He said it was safer away from the windows at night.  He wanted to give it another day or two to make sure the community was safe.  He was walking to the table with a bottle of wine and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you in the dress. He put down the bottle and said. "My lands, peaches." He wet his lips. "C'mere, gorgeous." He rubbed your forearms with his thumbs and looked you up and down. "You're so goddamn beautiful," he whispered. 

"You look nice, too," you said. He chuckled. He wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary but he always looked nice. He took your head in both hands and kissed you softly.  Then he looked at you again, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed you harder with an "Mmm," into your mouth. 

He pulled out your chair for you at the table. He poured your wine, served you salad with no cucumbers, rabbit, eggplant, and applesauce. The salad dressing was incredible. He made it himself. "secret's in the basil" he said proudly. "Gotta mash it up real good, let the flavor out. If ya like it, we got more to plant out back.  Rosemary, too. Make us a little herb garden.” You smiled. The applesauce was amazing, too. 

He got up and retrieved a stone bowl from the counter. "Fresh cinnamon sticks.  I crush’em up dry first. Then add just a little apple to the cinnamon, mash it up so it’s all wet, then add that to the rest at the end."  He tasted the cinnamon mixture with his finger.  “Kinda spicy.”  He dipped his pinky for more and held it up to your mouth.   "Go on," he said.  You held eye contact with him as your tongue met his pinky. The cinnamon was strong.  Delicious.  He took a deep breath as you sucked his digit clean. "Good girl," he whispered, watching you in a trance. He put the bowl back on the counter.  “Use it for cobbler, too. We can make some if ya want.”  You never knew Joel was such a good chef.  

-

You ate quietly. You wanted to let Joel’s nice dinner take your mind off things, but it didn't.  You didn't want to grill him about Abe's house or say anything negative at all since he put so much effort into the meal. He put so much effort into making you feel good in general.  So you tried to pretend you were okay, but he sensed your mood.  

After cleaning up from dinner, the two of you sat down on his sofa in the living room.  He brought whiskey and a bag of pills and put them on the coffee table with two glasses. “Need a good night’s sleep,” he muttered as he sat down and poured a glass.  “How ‘bout you?” 

You didn’t say anything. 

“What’s wrong, peaches?”

You were quiet, but he didn’t let you off the hook.  He looked at you, expecting an answer.  Finally, you blurted out, “I’m lonely.”

Joel looked confused.  “We’re together now, baby."

The tears welled up over your eyes.  “Not right this second. I mean in general.”

Joel swallowed, then nodded.  “Must get lonely on your own.  Why don’t you stay here with me?” He took a sip, put down his drink, and scooted closer.  He rubbed your back.  

You ignored his offer, frustrated that he didn't get it or didn’t care. “Everyone's gone,” you said and started to cry.  “Everyone left.”

Joel’s face darkened and his jaw clenched. His body tensed and he stopped rubbing your back.  He sank back into the sofa and clasped his hands in his lap.  You turned around to face him, expecting more comfort, but he didn’t look at you or open his arms.  

“Not sure what to say to that, peaches," he said flatly.  He took another sip of his drink.  "You mean the world to me, and it sounds like I’m nobody to you.” 

“Of course not,” you said.  Your heart dropped at your foolishness.  Here was the one person you had left.  The best person who could possibly be left.  Someone who would take care of you no matter what it took.  Someone who cared more about you than anything or anyone else.  And instead of being grateful, you acted like he was nothing. 

Joel nodded slowly, looking down with a scowl.  He swallowed. 

You said, "I just miss them, that's all."

His eyes intensified and he took a deep, calming breath. 

“Bill and Frank, I mean,” you clarified, desperate not to make it worse. 

"I know ya do," he said in a near whisper, still looking down.  

You continued, your tears slowing but not stopping.  "It doesn't feel right here with everyone gone." 

“Doesn’t feel right here,” he repeated.  He raised his eyebrows and bit his tongue, sticking it into his cheek. 

You looked away, sensing that you hurt him but unsure what to do.   You sat in silence for what felt like several minutes, both of you looking straight ahead. Your back felt so cold without him comforting you.  

When you looked back at Joel, his eyes were glistening.  “You're enough for me, peaches.” His voice cracked.  “You’re all I need in the world.” He dabbed his eye and your heart broke. "Nothin' feels more right than bein' with you. I love you that much.”

No one ever made you feel that way before, like you were their entire world.  His affection overwhelmed you.  It felt like he cared as much about you as Bill and Frank, just in a different way.  

"I love you too, Joel." You squeezed his thigh reassuringly. 

“No, darlin'.  I’m in love with you. I don’t care about anything else.” 

You turned toward him and tried to meet his eyes.  “I’m in love with you, too.” 

He finally stroked your back.  “You might think so, darlin’.” He sighed.  “And I ‘preciate you sayin’ it. . . But when you say,  ‘it doesn’t feel right here’. . .” He dabbed his eye again.  “I gotta wonder.”

“I do, Joel.” 

“I dunno if you understand love, darlin’.  Or you wouldn’t say that.  And you wouldn’t feel lonely.” 

You were overwhelmed and confused.  It didn’t make sense to you. “I wouldn’t miss my parents?”

“Course you’d miss’em,” he conceded.  “But you wouldn’t feel lonely.” 

“Guess that’s what I meant,” you said.  He nodded and his face warmed slightly. "Plus, I'm worried about Frank," you said and started crying again. Something was tugging at your gut.  You felt worse, not better.

Joel started to say something, but didn't. He rubbed your back. “I know, darlin’. He poured you a glass of whiskey and composed himself. “They’d be proud of ya, how you’re doin’.”  

You laughed through your tears. “Sorry,” you sniffled. “I didn’t mean I was lonely. I’m not.” 

“Okay, darlin’,” he whispered

You couldn’t tell if he really forgave you.  Your whole face felt tense. 

-

Joel looked at you and a look of deep concern washed across his face, realizing how bad he made you feel.  “Hey, hey. . . . c’mere. . . “  He rubbed your back.  You scooted closer and hugged him from the side.  He brought your far leg into his lap so you were twisted over him. “Shhhh,” he said and kissed your forehead, but something was still off about him.  “It’s okay, baby.”  He softened but still felt more distant than usual, like he wasn’t sure he could believe you.  The distance made you panic. 

“I love you, I really do,”  you said.  

He drank the rest of his whiskey and bent forward to put the glass down, then stretched his arm out on top of the sofa.  You tucked one leg under yourself and rested the other leg over his lap.  He draped his hand on your knee, but didn’t make a move to pull you closer.  You climbed into his lap, suddenly more concerned about his feelings than anything else.  

You wanted to be closer to him, as close as possible.  You wanted him wrapped around you, inside you.  You wanted to be a part of him and for him to be a part of you.  You kissed him on the cheek.  He smiled but didn’t look at you, not really.  He looked at your eyes but it felt like he was looking past them.  “Joel,” you whined, eyes welling up at the lack of validation.   You cupped his face in both your hands and kissed him.  His lips pressed softly into yours.  You looked back and forth between his eyes, trying to connect enough to show him how much you meant it. 

“I wanna be with you,” you whispered.  “I don’t care about anything else.” 

Something behind his eyes flickered on.  “You mean that, peaches? You don’t care about anything else?” 

You nodded and pressed your lips into his again. 

He asked, “You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

His hands embraced your back and the affection returned to his eyes full-force like it was in the morning.  He wet his lips. 

“Good,” he whispered.  “It’s you and me, darlin’. We only got each other.” 

You nodded. 

-

He looked from your eyes to your mouth and back, closed his eyes, cradled the back of your head, and kissed you deeply.  He held you and kissed you, the taste of whiskey fading after a few seconds as your mouths combined.  He pulled you closer into his lap and his jeans hardened against your dress and panties, making your core tingle.  He moaned into your mouth and your panties moistened rapidly.  His cock was big, and feeling it get so hard just for you made you feel special. Earlier, when you said you wanted him inside you, he said you were still being shy with him.  He said you hadn’t even touched it yet, that you weren’t giving him everything.  

You wanted to show him you could give him everything.  His big hands pulled you close and his hips lifted your body as he licked into your mouth. His hard cock pressed perfectly against your clit as his hips moved.  You reached down and unbuttoned his jeans, then tugged his shirt up and he let you untuck it.  He was truly in the moment.  He was yours.  You gently grabbed at the bulge in his jeans – it was more than a handful – and he thrust into your palm with a sigh. 

You broke the kiss to unzip his jeans, and he watched you like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  You slid your hand into his pants and softly gasped as you felt the stiff outline of his cock through his boxers.  His hips lifted into your hand with a soft grunt and he said, “Givin’ me everything, aren’t ya baby?”

You nodded earnestly.  He slid his hand between your legs, ghosting your clit over your panties, making you moan.  

“Wanna make you feel good,” you whispered, groping his hard cock and feeling a wet spot at the tip.  

“Always feel good when I'm with you, darlin’.” 

“Want it in my mouth,” you said.  

He inhaled sharply. “Fuck, darlin’.”  His eyes widened. “That what you want?”

“Yeah,” you nodded and got down on the carpet. 

You got out of the way while he took his jeans off for you.  

He spread his knees again and pulled the waistband of his boxers down below his balls.  He wrapped his fingers around the shaft with his thumb at the tip.  Butterflies swarmed between your legs at the sight of his strong hand holding his cock at attention for you. You nestled yourself between his legs.  

“You sure?” he asked and looked you over. 

You wet your lips and nodded without taking your eyes off his imposing cock. 

“Alright, darlin’.” He looked at you with pride and curiosity. 

You held his cock at the base and opened your mouth, hovering over the tip. 

“Just a little kiss,” he murmured. 

You pressed your lips against the tip and kissed it, sucking the salty precum into your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he sighed. “Now a little at a time.” 

You wrapped your lips around the tip and licked it, looking up at his face for approval.  The look on his face made you wet.  Joel sighed and tried not to lift his hips. “Good. Doin’ great, baby.” 

You sucked a little more of him into your mouth. He was so big, the head alone seemed to stretch your jaw. 

“Good, baby.  Nice and slow, not too much.” His velvety tip grazed the roof of your mouth.  You throbbed between the legs, wishing so badly to have him there instead.  But you had to show him you could give him everything.  

You braced the shaft at the base and the humidity of his salt and pepper hair made you throb more. You sucked and tongued his shaft and looked up at him for approval. 

“Good girl,” he nodded.  His validation made you slurp more of him into your mouth, a little too much, and you started gagging. 

“Easy, darlin’, hold on,” he chuckled.  “Take a breather,” he said.  

You were a little embarrassed.  “I wanna do it,” you whispered. 

“Okay,” he smiled.  “How ‘bout you lick it, get it real wet for us.” 

You salivated at the sight of his cock in his hand and licked him from base to tip three times -  once on the underside, and once from each side.  

“Now use your hand, darlin’.” You hesitantly wrapped your fingers and thumb around his shaft and he swelled into your hand.  His cock dwarfed your fingers, making you wetter. You were salivating.

You asked, “Are you sure you don’t want my mouth?”

“Darlin’, I love your hands.” 

He covered your hand with his and stroked himself with it. 

His hips thrust into your hand and it was so easy to imagine yourself impaled on his cock, it was all you could think about.  

“Give it another kiss, baby.” 

You brought the tip into your mouth again, then licked his cock from base to tip and sucked the head again, curiously tonguing the salty slit. You left as much saliva as you could.  

“Good girl,” he murmured and took your hand in his again. 

You ached to have him inside you. You wet your lips thirstily. 

He watched your face as his breath grew heavier. “Whatcha thinkin’ bout, peaches?”

You had a feeling he knew.  You looked down at his cock then back up at him, then away.  

“Don’t be shy, baby.” 

You looked up and made eye contact. “Putting our bodies together,” you said breathily and watched his face melt into a puddle of want. 

He inhaled through his nose, then murmured, “Want that real bad, don’t ya?” 

You nodded.

“Why’s that, darlin’?” His lips glistened and his eyes were half-lidded. 

“Wanna feel you inside me.” 

He breathed heavier as your hands slid up and down on his shaft.  He asked, “How ya think it’s gonna feel?” 

“I’m gonna be full of you. Attached to you.” 

“Yeah, you will,”  he nodded.  His grip tightened around your hand as he stroked himself. “You’ll be so full of me, baby. ..” 

“I really wanna be,” you whispered. You wanted it so bad you could cry.  “I need to be.”

“You will be, baby,” he said soothingly.  “You want your mouth filled up now?”

“Yeah,” you hovered your mouth near his cock again.  

“Go ‘head, baby.  Take it, it’s yours.” He took his hand away and put it gently on the back of your head.  

You sucked the tip of his cock into your mouth again and made eye contact as you sucked.  

He groaned and his thumb stroked the nape of your neck, then he lifted his hips and erupted in your mouth.  His warm, salty spend hit the roof of your mouth, then the tip slid back along your palate, and he pulsed again.  More cum hit the back of your throat.  Your eyes watered and you swallowed. 

“You did so good, baby.” 

-

He tucked his cock into his boxers and spooned you on the sofa.  

“Why’s it feel so good, doing that?” you asked.  

“Doin’ what?”

“Just having it in my mouth.”

“S’posed to, baby.  Your body’s gettin’ ready for mine.” His words sent a pang of desire between your legs. “Turns you on, right?” He reached under your dress and stroked your panties from the outside.  He felt the dampness and murmured, “Guess it does.” 

“A lot,” you said.  He began stroking your clit rhythmically over the cotton.  Your hips started to move on their own in his hand. You moaned softly. 

He slid his hand into the front of your panties and thumbed your soft curls.  “It’s ‘cause your special parts think I’m fixin’ to put mine right here.” He dipped his middle finger into the pool of wetness hanging at your entrance. 

“I wish you would,” you sighed.  

He groaned softly at those words, the blood already flowing back to his loins.  “You really do, huh?” His voice was low and soft. “You really wanna be full of me.” He wet his fingers with your slick and began gently circling your clit. “Attached to me.” 

“Yeah,” you said. “More than anything.” 

“Love hearin’ that, peaches.”  He held you tighter. 

“I wanna give you everything,” you said. 

“Gotta be ready, darlin’,” he said into the crown of your head.  

“I’m ready.”

“Your body too, angel.” You could hear the smile in his voice. 

“My body wants yours so bad,” you whined.

“Wantin’ it’s not enough, baby.”

You groaned in frustration. 

“Well. . . you tell me, darlin’.  You’ve had it in your mouth now.  Think it’ll fit in this sweet little hole?”  he swirled his finger around. 

“I dunno,” you sighed.   Your body didn’t care, it wanted whatever he would give you. “I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“For what?”

“Not having my body ready.” 

“Oh peaches, I’m glad you’re not.  It’ll be a privilege gettin’ you there.” He gently circled your clit. 

“Really?”

“Of course, darlin’,” he said softly. “Sometimes they bloom late for a reason.” He dipped his finger into your wetness again. “And this one’s just for me, ain’t it?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.  

“We’ll get there, baby.  We’ll get there in time.” 

“Okay,” you sighed. 

“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he said. “See what it’ll take to get there.” 

“Yeah,” you said.  “Please.” You lifted your thigh to make more room for his hand.

He slowly slid half his middle finger into your tight, wet heat. You moaned at his first intrusion. 

He sucked air in through his teeth.  “How’s that feel, baby?” 

“I want more.” 

He took a deep breath and pushed his finger all the way in.

You whimpered, “yeah,” as your body adjusted. 

“God damn,” he whispered as your cunt hugged his digit. 

He curled his finger just slightly and you moaned again. “It’s so thick,” you said.  

“See? Got a long way to go.” His cock twitched against your ass.

“No, it feels good,” you said as he slowly moved his finger inside you.  “I want more.”  

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you answered impatiently.  

“Just one more.”  You squinted in frustration.  Why just one more? 

He took his middle finger out and flattened it alongside his ring finger.  He slid them up and down your slippery seam before slowly plunging them inside together. It was a tight squeeze.   “God damn,” he breathed. He paused half-way in. 

“Feels so good,” you panted.  “Keep going,” you begged. 

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.”

“Doesn’t hurt at all.”

He slowly sank his two fingers into you completely.  “Real snug,” he muttered. “You sure it doesn’t hurt?”

“Too snug? Is that bad?”

“No, no, not at all, baby. But it’s gonna take time to be ready.” He began to move the heel of his palm against your clit and you grinded back against it.  

“God, Joel,” you sighed. 

“Gonna take time,” he repeated.  “‘fore you’re ready for this,” he said with a thrust of his hips, grinding himself into your ass, already fully erect again. He thrust against you again with a soft grunt. 

You asked “You want it too, don’t you?” 

“Course I do, baby,” he panted. “Gotta feel good for both of us, though. Gotta do it right.” He kissed your head and curled his fingers inside you, digging the meat of his hand against your clit again. “Gotta be real special.”

Your clit twitched against his hand and he said, “C’mon, baby,” moving his hand at a slow rhythm. “Every time you come, gets us closer to what we want.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, sugar.”  He breathed heavily with his body enveloping yours, pumping his fingers deep in your cunt, pressing his palm against your clit. 

You let your hips grind back unrestrained. 

“There ya go, darlin’,” he said, pressing his hard cock against you as he moved his fingers.  “Yeah, just like that.” 

You closed your eyes and pretended his fingers were his cock. You knew his cock would feel even better. 

“Can’t wait to be inside ya, baby,” he whispered. “Nothin’ I want more.” He slowly pumped his fingers deeper into you as your body opened up for him.  “Wanna slide into this tight little hole,” he panted, his cock rutting gently against your ass.  “Want you wrapped around me.” He rubbed his palm against your front. “Yeah. . .wrapped so tight around me, baby. Like ya can’t pull us apart”  Your hips grinded into his hand with your climax in sight. “Gonna have you so full of me,” he breathed, then he moaned with a harder thrust against you.   “Joined together,” he added. “Forever, baby. It’s forever,” he whispered in your ear.  “Me and you.” You whined on the edge of your climax.  “C’mon, baby,” he whispered, pumping his fingers, rocking his palm, grinding against your ass. 

He thrust against your ass with a grunt, and his grunt in your ear was enough for you to see stars.  “Joel,” you whined. 

“Yeah,” he said as your climax seized you. You whimpered as you came. “Yeah, I got ya, baby,” he whispered.  “Good girl.” He kissed your head. 

-

He held you and caressed you as you bathed in the afterglow. It gave you clarity on how wrong you were earlier.  You felt the things he felt.  You realized how hurt you would have been if he said the same things – That he was lonely, that it didn’t feel right there.  

“I’m not lonely,” you whispered.  “And of course it feels right, bein’ with you.”

“Okay, baby.”  He kissed your head.  

“Guess I meant the town didn’t feel. . .”  You meant the town. Your stomach dropped as you realized it.

The town. If Abe was really gone, you and Joel were the only two people left in Lincoln.  Joel was the town.  You couldn’t put your finger on why, but you felt like you might be sick.  

“I know, darlin’,” he said obliviously. “But in a way, it’s nice we have this time together.”  His arms tightened around you. “Silver lining.  Right?”  He sighed. “We’re together, don’t care about nothin’ else.” 

“Right,” you whispered and tried not to think about it.  You shivered and Joel rubbed your arms.  “It’s chilly down here. Let’s get you tucked into bed.” 

-

Joel showed you the restroom and your toiletries and towels.  He offered you a painkiller to help you sleep. You didn’t want to take it, but he left it on the nightstand with a glass of whiskey in case you needed it.  “Know it’s weird, sleepin’ somewhere new,” he said. He took a nightgown out of the dresser for you.  He kissed you good night, then shut your door behind him.  

You woke up in the middle of the night when you heard something metal clang then rumble outside.  You felt safer with Joel in the house, but you wanted his arms around you. Maybe he’d let you climb in his bed.  Surely he wouldn’t turn you away.  He was being a gentleman, offering you a bed of your own. You opened your bedroom door as quietly as possible and gathered the courage to go downstairs.  

Downstairs, you pushed his bedroom door open.  “Joel?” you whispered. He didn’t answer. “Joel?” There was a flickering glow outside his window, which made it harder to see the inside of the room until your eyes adjusted.  

He wasn’t in bed.  Not the bathroom, either.  You sat down on his bed and smoothed your hand over his pillow.  You dipped your nose into the cotton and inhaled his scent, closing your eyes.  It gave you a rush of comfort.  A metal clang jolted you back to the moment and the flickering light brightened for a moment.  Your heart raced.  You carefully peeked out the window and faintly saw what looked to be the silhouette of Joel standing over a burning barrel.  You felt like you should go back upstairs, as much as you wanted to curl up in his bed, inhaling his scent.  

Your heart was beating too fast to get back to sleep, and you didn’t know why.  You paced around the room and looked out the window.   You sat at the vanity.  You looked in the drawers.  You were waiting to hear the door open downstairs.  Then you could pretend to come down for the first time.  Joel would comfort you, kiss you, cuddle you to sleep.  But the door didn’t open downstairs.  You paced more and sat on the bed.  You opened the closet and looked at the dresses again. You held one up in the mirror. 

You opened the other closet door and something caught your eye.  In the back, on the very last hanger, there was a dress that made your breath hitch.  White with lace sleeves.  The longer you looked at it, the more butterflies gathered in your chest.  Maybe your eyes betrayed you.  It was too dark to tell.  You closed the closet, took the painkiller, and got back in bed.  You listened out for the door and tried to conjure the feeling of Joel’s arms around you. That was all you wanted. 

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Thank you for your patience, too.  I love you guys!!!

I'm not sure if there will be one more part or two; I have to see how it writes. I feel like probably two, but it could be one long one with a little bit of a time jump.

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor 

Lincoln: @fan-fiction-floozy @ivyblxnde @lhymer1995 @sugarspiceanthrax @isimpforfictionalmen @zynbsblogg @swedishscumfuck @sadgirlstoohightocare @steveharringtonswh0re @skythighs @aoziety @leeeesahhh @jupitersmoon-cal @peekymoon @dtfawn 

(ct'd in comments or reblogs)

[thetinyadventurer]

"Let's go home."

It's Milo outside, shivering and soaking wet, and looking absolutely miserable, like the whole world has taken turns kicking him, and then doing it againonce he's down. Like he might cry if he isn't already doing so. His glasses are set crooked, so he probably is barely able to see, and thus, he probably doesn't know where he is.

“Oh, my god, Milo!”

I sprint outside so quickly that I don’t even bother putting on my boots. All I’ve got in hand is an umbrella which I struggle to open as I shuffle down the street.

“Milo!” I call out as I run up to him, managing to open the umbrella just in time.

I raise the umbrella up above his head, shielding him from the rain. I have to stand on my tiptoes as I reach up and remove his glasses. I haphazardly use the hem of my shirt to clean off his glasses before gently placing them back on his face. I get how hard it is to see with water-logged glasses as I wear glasses, myself. I don’t even think twice before I grab Milo’s shaking hand.

“Let’s go home.” I murmur, softly as I pull him towards my apartment building, keeping the umbrella above our heads. I squeeze his hand gently for good measure. I know how it feels to be alone and miserable. Milo’s such a sweet, kind-hearted soul and even though I can’t carry his problems for him, I can damn well make them lighter! He would have done the same for me, after all.

I guide him up the stairs and into my apartment building. It’s small for an apartment in Washington DC in the early 1900’s but I do my best to make it feel welcoming. The ivory walls are tinted amber from the lamp-light and the crackling fireplace gives off much needed warmth.

I pull Milo into the bathroom and gesture for him to sit on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll be right back.” I say as I sprint into my bedroom where I rummage through the dresser until I find what I’m looking for: A cozy pair of pajamas, a big, fluffy towel and a pair of socks that an ex of mine forgot to reclaim after we broke up. They’re big enough that they should fit him. I hurry back to the bathroom and gently place the clothes and towel on the edge of the sink.

“These might be a little big on you but they’re better than nothing.” I comment before turning back to him, looking him in the eyes.

I reach out and gently squeeze his shoulder— A simple gesture to reassure him that I’m there for him and that he’s not alone, anymore.

“Take a bath to warm yourself up.” I instruct. “You can put your wet clothes in the sink and I’ll hang them up to dry. Don’t worry about the water, I can clean it up later. There’s some bubble bath here if you like scented things and a rubber ducky to keep you company. His name is George. Feel free to take as much time as you need, okay? When you’re done, dry off and put on these pajamas. Then meet me in the living room. I’ll make us some hot chocolate with extra marshmallows!”

I give him a brief but tight hug. “You don’t have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to but please know that I’m here for you if you need me. If you need to cry then cry, I won’t judge. If you need to vent to me, I’ll listen. As for advice, well, I’m a shitty advice-giver but I’ll do the best I can to help out. Just do whatever you need to do to feel better, okay?”

I stand up and walk towards the door. “I’ll give you some privacy. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

I give him one last smile before shutting the door behind me. I crack my knuckles.

“Okay, time to make some hot chocolate and chicken noodle soup!” I announce to the empty air.

Milo can take all the time he needs to recover. As long as he’s happy and doesn’t catch a cold, I’ll do whatever it takes to help him out. And if I find out who made him cry I’m calling my neighbor, Helga Sinclair, to go kick their asses.

//Sorry that was so long! Thank you for the first ask. Not sure how I did but I hope you like it!//

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // caitvi ending commentary ⚠️

the difference between the last individual scenes of vi and caitlyn, and the one they shared actually made me sob, so here's my analysis of what it all meant

caitlyn is at home, in her family mansion in piltover. her monologue seems to be a messege or an archive for the kirammans or historians after her; she's also looking at the kiramman house files, a family heirloom, a symbol of her legacy and her station, a connection to her mother. she's perhaps searching for something needed in order to start rebuilding the city, perhaps checking if jinx could still be somewhere out there, maybe even seeing what ekko saw about the undercity's vents and water ducts. she still seems to have purpose, or to be in search of one for herself.

vi is also in caitlyn's house in piltover, but she's not with caitlyn. in a city not her own, in a house not her own, it seems she's chosen to sit in a room alone with her thoughts, staring at the fireplace. we hear her humming the tune to a song her mother used to sing, the same one jinx was humming when we first saw her this season - vi's small comfort, the faintest memory from those before her, and nothing to leave to those after her. no roots and no legacy. she's grieving everyone and everything she's lost. stripped of will and void of purpose.

caitlyn is excited to hear vi humming a song. we don't know how long it's been since the war ended, but this implies she hasn't been doing much other than sitting by herself in silence in quite some time. she's become a shell of herself, and caitlyn is worried - she's there for her but doesn't want to push her either. she asks her if she's "still in the fight", and this is a loaded question that i can see two main meanings in - one notably sadder.

1) are you still in there?

what part of you is left, and is it strong enough to keep fighting this state you're in? do you have it in you to keep going? do you have the will to live in spite of it all? is there any fight left in you? are you still with me, or are you just in the room?

and i feel like caitlyn knows the answer but wants to hear it from vi, check in on her and encourage her to open up if she's feeling ready to. because she heard her humming to herself.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't mean it in a cute, flirty or romantic way. she means it in a self-deprecating "i know i'm not being easy right now" kind of way.

i'm not fun to be around, to have to take care of and wait around for. i'm making things harder for you and i'm holding you back by not cooperating and just getting better. i can't help it.

and she adds onto this, "nothing's ever gonna clean me out"

you're stuck with me. i'm a nuisance to you but i can't leave you because you're all i have left. i think i'm lost and broken beyond repair. i'm crooked. i think i'll never be okay again.

2) have you given up on zaun?

are you still in on fighting the system? have you given up on trying to make others see your people for who you are? do you still have hope in the dream for unity and freedom for zaun?

it sounds like caitlyn does, and she's still up for it, just like she was in the latter half of the first season, before jinx kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, and blew up the counsil building just as its members were about to vote for zaun's sovereignty, killing caitlyn's mother. but caitlyn can't do it on her own - it's vi's home, vi's people, vi's identity - and she needs to know if vi still believes they can change something.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't literally mean caitlyn, or herself. she means the opposing poles they represent - piltover and zaun, oppressor and oppressed, a pristine policewoman and a crooked criminal. until piltover's view of the undercity and its people changes, zaun will always be a torn in its side, fighting it, defying it, trying to free itself from its clutches. small, perhaps insignificant, an inconvenience, but a part of it that it can't get rid of or erase. it'll always be there, it'll always fight back.

and when she says nothing's ever gonna clean her out, she means she'll never be bent out of shape and lose that part of herself - the ugly, dirty, raggedy part that grew up on the streets of zaun and was raised among all the tragedy, misery and poverty of the undercity. a product of the system. she'll never let that be "washed out" of her, she won't forget her origin or her goals. this is who she is, her identity - not just in the eyes of piltover, but in her own heart - a zaunite.

EDIT: i also saw this interpretation on tiktok if you're interested. to summarize: there's a spanish saying "like nails and dirt" which is used to refer to two people who are inseparable, so this is a testimony of vi's love for caitlyn having given her reason to keep going and stay by her.

[chronicowboy]

i find you in everything (but its here you find yourself) | 3k

Connor comes over to talk things through with Kameron the next day, and Buck makes himself scarce. Figures they'll appreciate the privacy, and he can escape an awkward situation. And its not like he was just planning on hanging around the loft all day.

Christopher had sent him a SOS that morning stating that he hoped his dad was better at taking things apart at work than he was at trying to build things at home. And the request for back-up had come through whilst Buck was still laughing to himself.

So, when Connor comes knocking on the door looking a bit like a dog with its tail between its legs, Buck grabs his stuff and heads on over to supervise construction of Christopher's vision.

Its later, much later, after a text from Kameron saying they've talked things through and she's going home, after many teasing jibes that Eddie had taken like a pro, after a few minor squabbles about compromises in the design, Buck finds himself settling onto the couch with a sigh.

Eddie holds a beer out to him, and Buck reaches for it just as Eddie snatches it away.

"Hey!" he yelps.

"Sorry." Eddie grins, looks anything but sorry. "Had to make sure you weren't gonna fall asleep on me."

"One time," Buck grumbles as he successfully manages to grab his beer. He twists the cap off and takes three big gulps before closing his eyes and letting his head fall against the back of the couch. "God, how is a middle school project so tiring? What happened to the good old days of popsicle sticks?"

"I mean..." Eddie raises his eyebrows. "I think technically it could be a popsicle stick project. Our foreman just decided that he wanted something more up to code."

"And up to code it is. We did a damn good job." Buck turns to Eddie with a grin and holds his bottle out for a cheers. Eddie raises his own, but Buck just shakes his head. "Oh, you thought I meant you? How cute." He tries to ignore the way Eddie's cheeks flush a light pink, but its an entrancing sight. "I meant, Christopher and me."

"I helped!" Eddie objects, voice squeaky. "I bought all your materials."

"With Bobby's help," Buck points out, tries not to let any of the hurt that he hadn't been asked seep into the words. Its just. Buck worked construction. Bobby destroyed his own fireplace. Whatever.

"Well, you were busy," Eddie murmurs like he can read Buck's mind, like he hadn't meant for Buck to hear.

"Eddie." Buck frowns at the tight clench of Eddie's jaw. He watches as the tensions melts out of Eddie's expression, watches as Eddie turns to him with curious eyes and an open posture.

"How are things with Natalia?" Eddie grins teasingly, but there's something twisted to it that makes Buck's stomach itch in his abdomen.

"Uh, I don't really know." Buck grimaces down at his beer. "Last night, Taylor was on the news," here Buck has to pause to give Eddie time to roll his eyes, "promoting her book."

"She's written a book?" Eddie deadpans, then sniffs haughtily. "Didn't know she could read."

"Wow." Buck huffs a laugh and shakes his head. "Yeah, so after the Lucy thing and then Taylor kind of mentioned me, I think?"

"Christ," Eddie mutters, "will we never be free of her?" Buck snorts.

"Anyway, then I kind of had to give Natalia a rundown of my past, you know?"

"Why?" Eddie frowns.

"Well, because." Buck blinks. "Uh, I guess I didn't? But I offered it, so..."

"Okay..." Eddie shoots him a strange look, one of his harder to decipher looks that Buck never knows how to read. "And she was okay with it all?"

"Yeah, she was." Buck knocks back another swig of his beer. "Until Kameron walked in."

"Oh." Eddie shifts in his seat. "She's nearly due, right?"

"Yeah, a couple of weeks or so, I don't really know." Buck picks at the label on the bottle. "Her and Connor had been fighting, she needed a place to crash and someone to vent to and I was closest."

"And Natalia, what? Just left?"

"I mean, she told me to take care of myself first. But, yeah," Buck takes another sig of beer, "she left."

"Sorry, man, I know you liked her." Eddie drops a hand on his shoulder, and Buck forgets who her is for a moment. "Guess where most people are scared of death, a death doula is scared of life."

"Wow, that's actually pretty poignant," Buck says. "Didn't know you had it in you." Eddie just rolls his eyes.

"Its weird, though," he says suddenly, dropping his arm from Buck's shoulder to the back of the couch. Buck shudders at the loss.

"What's weird?" he asks instead of examining that feeling too closely.

"Her being scared off by a donor baby." Eddie frowns over at him. "Chris didn't freak her out?"

Buck feels like he's trapped in the moment of free fall before your line catches you.

"W-what do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, your full disclosure speech must have included Chris," Eddie says simply like that was never up for discussion. "Because, let's face it, she might not have said it, but Taylor definitely had a problem with how much time you spent with us. So, it only makes sense that you'd tell Natalia and get ahead of that." Eddie stops, tilts his head to the side. "Unless I'm wrong?"

"I, um." Buck scrubs a hand over his jaw, frowns at the spot of epoxy on the carpet, feels suddenly, dreadfully guilty for reasons unknown. "It was mainly romantic partners."

"Oh." Eddie nods, takes a sip of beer. "Well, probably a good thing then. Chris definitely would have freaked her out more than an unborn baby."

"W-why would C-Chris have freaked her out?" Buck asks, inexplicably feeling like he's about to open Pandora's Box.

Eddie looks over at him, his eyebrows twitching into a frown in that way that means he's figuring something out.

"Well." Eddie sets his beer down on the coffee table and turns to face Buck, his knee knocking into Buck's thigh like a bolt of lightning. "You're a donor for the baby, you're not gonna be anything more than dad's friend to them, right?"

"Right," Buck says carefully, irrationally terrified of whatever comes next when Eddie's face smooths into a proud smile for a moment.

"But, you know, Chris is..." Eddie exhales an exaggerated breath and shakes his head. "You're in Chris' life, you know?"

"What, um." Buck sets his bottle down too, hands trembling as he does so. "What do you mean?"

"Buck," Eddie says, endlessly gentle. "What do you think Christopher is to you?"

"My best friend," Buck answers without hesitation. It feels like the right answer when Eddie's face cracks into a smile so fond that Eddie has to duck his head to hide the breadth of it.

"That it?" Eddie prompts, still so so soft.

"I-is there anything else?" Buck asks breathlessly. "Besides. I mean, apart from, you know, the whole legal guardian thing. But that's not really. You know, that's a break glass in case of emergencies kind of thing."

"Jesus Christ, Buck." Eddie grimaces like Buck landed a physical blow. "Is that what you really think?"

"I..." Buck glances at the hallway that leads to Christopher's room. "Yes?"

"God, I knew you didn't get it." Eddie shakes his head at himself. "I knew you didn't understand, but I was so tried and everything hurt and it seemed too weird to bring up after the fact. But I knew you didn't understand what I was trying to tell you."

"What were you trying to tell me?" Buck breathes, both desperate for and terrified of the answer.

"That you're his dad," Eddie rasps.

Buck is infinitely glad that he'd had the foresight to set his beer down earlier because there's no way he wouldn't have spilled it all over the couch at those words, at the raw emotion in Eddie's voice as he said them.

"Evan, you've been helping me raise him for years," Eddie whispers. "You've been in his life longer than his mother. You bake cookies for his class and abandon pregnant women at your apartment to help him with his homework and you make him lasagne and take him to the zoo. He runs to you when he's mad at me, he talks to you about things he doesn't feel comfortable talking to me about, he asks for you when he's sick, and he still hugs you even though he dodges mine half the time." Eddie's hand is back on his shoulder, an anchor in the stormy ocean trying to whisk him away. "You're his dad."

"No." Buck shakes his head frantically. "No, E-Eddie, I didn't mean to... I'd never. You know I think you're the best dad-"

"Buck, relax," Eddie laughs gently. "I know you aren't trying to replace me. We're... Co-dads."

A million moments flash through Buck's head, each one slotting something inside of his chest back into place like all he'd ever needed was to hear those words. It feels like salvation and healing and victory and the greatest gift in the whole world. It feels like everything Buck has ever wanted.

"Co-dads," Buck murmurs to himself, vision of Eddie blurring through the tears. "I like that."

"Yeah?" Eddie huffs. "Me too."

They sit in their heavy silence then, neither of them reaching for their beers or making any move to dispel the magnitude of the moment. Buck picks at a loose thread on his sweats.

"When we, um, took Chris to Santa's village," Buck starts, suddenly shy at Eddie's attention. "Your first year here. The elf that brought him over. She, well, she told me that we have an adorable son."

"We do," Eddie says proudly, reaching for his beer. Buck almost cracks right down the middle at the easy confirmation.

"I just said thank you," Buck carries on. "Didn't correct her or anything. It just. It felt so good, you know? A stranger thinking I could have anything to do with Chris."

"You have everything to do with him," Eddie says, words full of conviction. "Do you know how many people at his school knew you were his dad before you?" Buck whips around to face him head on. "Chris has been telling people he has two dads for years now." Buck free falls once again, but there's no harness to catch him this time, he just falls and falls and falls. "At first, he said it was easier than explaining who you actually were to him. But then he started realising that that's exactly who you are to him. A second dad."

"God," Buck chokes out, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Thank you." He lifts his head from where he'd buried it in his hands to look at Eddie. "Thank you for letting me be a part of his life."

"Thank you for being a part of his life," Eddie retorts.

Buck takes a moment to look at him then. At this new and improved Eddie Diaz who lets himself feel and lets other people see him feel. And Buck sees all, sees everything written there on Eddie's face plain as day. He sees gratitude and happiness, fondness and intimacy, amusement and care, and such overwhelming love that Buck feels a little like he's back on top of that ladder just waiting for something to happen.

And then he remembers Eddie's bashful face when he'd mentioned Marisol after getting back from the hardware store. He sobers instantly, locking down the terrifying thoughts that had begun to scrabble out of the darkest depths of his chest.

"What happens when you find someone?" he finds himself asking. He chances a look at Eddie, hopes its not too obvious that he hadn't meant to ask that. Eddie only frowns at him.

"What do you mean?"

"When you meet someone you like, and you settle down with her and introduce her to Chris." Buck swallows a mouthful of beer, but it feels like swallowing a hundred thumb tacks. "What happens then?"

"I'm not following," Eddie shakes his head.

"Eddie, you'll meet someone one day and where does that leave me?" He turns to face Eddie, their knees knocking together. "Chris will get a step-mom, and I'm... What? Relegated to uncle?"

"Buck, that's not how this works."

"Isn't it?"

"No!" Eddie insists, voice low but no less forceful. "You have your full disclosure speech, I have mine." Eddie bites at the inside of his cheek. "You're always going to be Christopher's dad."

"But, Eddie." Buck sighs, scrubs a hand down his face. "I don't want to do the shared custody thing. I don't want to pass him between us on alternate weekends."

"Why are you acting like I'd just push you out of my life? You're still my best friend."

"Eddie, I don't want to third wheel you and your wife just to spend time with my..." Buck bites back the son fighting to fall off his tongue. It feels like too much, like it'll reveal everything Buck's kept hidden so well that he doesn't know the true extent of it himself.

"What do you want, Buck?" Eddie breathes, determined as he leans forward on a hand planted on the couch cushion between them. "What do you want?"

"This," Buck whispers. "Us, Chris. Just the three of us."

And, fuck, know that he's said it out loud it hits him fully. The force and depth of his desire. Every unnamed feeling that had lingered in his chest cavity over the past four years comes crawling out from between his ribs, crowing a cacophonous chorus of want, want, want. Every gnawing ache in his stomach for something he'd never been able to name suddenly cries out desperately for the man in front of him and the kid asleep down the hall. Every part of him shifts and settles like a plume of dust thrown up on a sheet, falling back down to where it had been before. And Buck realises then that he's been in love with Eddie the whole damn time.

"How do you want us?" Eddie rasps, eyes dropping just for a second. But its long enough. Long enough for Buck to read Eddie like a book from cover to cover and realise that maybe Eddie's been waiting for him this whole time.

"Forever," Buck murmurs as he closes the distance between them.

Eddie meets him in the middle with a hand on his jaw, and Buck drops his own palm to Eddie's thigh now that he knows what he'd been longing for every time he'd stared at Eddie for a moment too long.

Its not a fast thing. Its as slow as the rest of them, as slow as the years they'd spent building the foundation of a house neither of them had any idea they were making. Its slow as Eddie nudges their noses together and drags the point of his down the side of Buck's from eye socket to nostril. Its slow as Buck drops a whisper of a kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth. And its slow as they finally come together completely.

Eddie is endlessly gentle with him, so much so that Buck feels a little like he's going to shake apart in his hands. But Eddie just slides his hand around into Buck's hair and opens his mouth into the kiss. A pained noise escapes Buck's lungs, and Eddie breathes it in like its what he needs to survive. Their tongues brush for just the smallest of moments before Eddie is pulling away with a heaving chest and dark eyes.

"Forever?" Eddie pants, flushed face full of hope.

"As long as you'll have me," Buck confirms, still transfixed by the slight swell of Eddie's lips.

"Forever then." Eddie nods and reels him back in with the hand still on his neck. Buck goes willingly.

Their next kiss isn't as slow, but its just as achingly tender as Eddie opens him up and invades his senses quite completely. Buck can only fist his hands in the back of Eddie's Henley and hold on for dear life as Eddie takes him apart with an incredibly skilled mouth. When Eddie pulls back to drag in a lungful of air, Buck dives after him and licks into the velvety heat of Eddie's mouth like its all he's been dreaming of for four years. And quiet, collected Eddie Diaz whimpers into the kiss like he's being consumed. It feels like success, Buck thinks.

Eddie pushes him away with a hand to his chest. Buck backs off just far enough that he can still feel the puff of Eddie's breath on his face. His eyes flutter open slowly, taking in the sight of a kiss-rumpled Eddie Diaz with his eyes still squeezed shut like he's trying to remember every single detail of this moment. Buck looks down at the hand on his pec which still hasn't moved, smiles down at it when he realises that Eddie isn't planning on moving any time soon. When he drags his gaze back up to Eddie's face, he finds bright red cheeks and a shameless, grinning shrug.

Before either of them can say anything, the sound of footsteps has them catapulting back to their respective corners of the couch. Buck turns just as Chris rounds the corner, and his face breaks into a grin at the sight of his kid.

"Hey, bud, what are you doing up?" he asks as Chris makes his way towards them.

"Can't sleep." Chris shrugs and falls onto the couch between them. "Can we watch something?"

"Not sure how that will help you sleep," Eddie mumbles in his dad voice. Chris just rolls his eyes and turns to Buck.

"Just one episode of something. It can even be a documentary."

"Hm, documentaries are educational." Buck glances at Eddie for guidance, finds nothing but trust in his eyes. "One episode and then straight back to bed. And no complaining in the morning."

"Fine," Chris groans but he settles back into the space between them with a wiggle as Eddie tosses the remote to Buck.

Buck focuses intently on the selection of documentaries on the screen, all too aware of Eddie's eyes burning into the side of his head. He picks the first one on the list, something about archaeology that Buck knows is just boring enough to lull Christopher sleep.

As the theme music starts up, Buck settles back into his place on the couch, flinching a little when his head lands on Eddie's arm stretched out across the back. Eddie just shoots him a soft smile before returning his attention to the TV. But Christopher squints up at him, then up at his dad, then back at Buck, back at Eddie. Buck holds his breath as Chris pauses and his face clears into the tiniest of smiles. Chris leans into his side and Buck shuffles closer immediately. Eddie turns to watch this, eyes so soft, before squashing himself into their little huddle too.

In the morning, when they all wake up with cricks in their necks and stiff backs, still curled around each other on the couch, nobody complains.

[comfyhomeproductsllc]

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[hometoursandotherstuff]

Came across this demon skull gas log for Ventless & Vent Free, Propane, Gel, Ethanol, Electric, Outdoor Fireplace and Fire Pit. It's $35.99, which isn't bad, for the white one, and $41.99 for the black one.

[seaside-lovers-archive]

👁️ Seek & Cold ❄️

design/art credit

Ship name/tag: 👁️ lost in your eye

Anniversary: February 27, 2023

My backstory: I'm an entity that roams the Hotel. I happened to come to existence in a room one day; I wasn't sure where I came from or where I was, but I know my goal: upkeep on the hotel. I spend a lot of my early days cleaning up broken glass, sweeping, fixing up things left from those trapped in the hotel, etc. I spend my free time in the library reading, one of my favorite activities.

I meet Figure this way; I end up starting a weekly meetup with them where I read out loud to them.

How we meet: I meet Seek for the first time when they happen to come into the library; they usually stick to certain parts of the Hotel so I had not met them yet. They happened to approach me and introduced themself as Seek. I offered my name in return.

First impressions: I'm intimidated by Seek when we first meet. I can't really get a read on them at all and find them a bit scary to talk to since they seem so serious and cold.

Seek thinks I seem like a perfectly fine person but takes no real interest in me.

Getting closer: Seek enjoys listening in on me reading to Figure and ends up approaching me, asking if I would like to start a weekly reading session with them. We both share an interesting in reading so they figured it would be a good way for us to get to know each other more (and I definitely was not because they found me attractive and wanted to spend more time with me, not at all).

I agree to this albeit I'm quite nervous since I assume they dislike me based on their demeanor. However, once we start our reading sessions, I start to realize that they don't dislike me; they're just really awkward when it comes to one-on-one conversations. It is charming to me and is one of the reasons why I end up falling in love with them.

Meanwhile, Seek is completely in denial about them being attracted to me; sure they think I'm pretty, and I have a nice voice, and I check in on them, but it can't be... truthfully, they have little experience in the world of romance and are somewhat spooked by the idea of falling in love. Based on my talking about romance, they assume I am super experienced and that I would struggle to be in a relationship with them because of their inexperience.

Beginning our relationship: Much to Seek's surprise, I also have basically no romantic experience; all my love for romance comes from books. This is a relief to them, and after I end up admitting that I am romantically attracted to them by accident, they return my feelings and we decide to become exclusive. We start experimenting romantically, though we keep our relationship private from the others, merely announcing that we are a couple now... and being surprised that everyone was waiting for it to happen. Apparently our mutual pining was a bit obvious.

Ship trope(s): Tsundere, mutual pining

Aesthetics: Books/libraries, dark romance

Our song(s): "Addicted to Love" by Robert Palmer, "Kiss Me You Animal" by Burn the Ballroom

Favorite forms of affection: Nuzzling! A lack of mouth on Seek means we both really like to nuzzle / gently touch foreheads together.

Favorite kind of date: We both really like sitting together in front of a fireplace and reading; I'll usually read out loud to Seek.

Ways we comfort one another: I listen to Seek when they're struggling, letting them vent and listening intently, offering words of comfort or advice depending on what I need.

Seek likes to find something for us to do to help me feel better and give me a distraction. Sometimes we'll go for walks in the courtyard and just talk; this can help relieve the stress I'm going through.

What we love most about each other: I love Seek's leadership. They are a confident person who stands up for themselves and is also great at organizing and bring people together. I'm not very assertive so I appreciate that part of them balancing out my own personality.

Seek loves my caring nature. I love checking in on people and doing things for them to help them out; they are not great with checking in on how others are doing, so they appreciate that about me and try to mimic me.

[calypsoul]

Murdoch Mysteries spoilers (well, up to s6 cause that's all I've seen)

I needed to rant about Murdoch and Dr. Ogden

Julia Ogden and William Murdoch are so perfect for each other. I genuinely don't believe that anyone else could handle being in a relationship with Murdoch and his tendency to drop everything for a case and need to find the truth and do what's right even when it's hard or inconvenient or even downright destructive to himself/his career (ie: letting a convicted murderer free bc the man she killed was her abusive husband and she didn't really have a choice but of course, the courts wouldn't rule in her favor bc it was a woman killing her husband).

And Julia, well, we saw what happened when someone else tried to marry her. It got him killed. Though to be fair, he was up against James Gillies. Either way he couldn't handle what her past brought, or her being a Strong Independent Woman^TM with her own opinions and acting on those opinions, which has unfortunately been shown to be pretty standard in-universe.

Them together however, is amazing. Most of the proof is in the wedding and honeymoon episodes bc like, who else would be totally okay with excited about figuring out the last bit of the case and catching the true murderer IN THE MIDDLE OF THEIR FUCKING WEDDING CEREMONY. Not the reception or afterparty (are those the same or different?) or any of the other bits of a wedding that are arguably less important than WHEN THE OFFICIANT IS ABOUT TO DO THE WEDDING VOWS. They were genuinely about to leave the altar together in full wedding attire to go to a train station to arrest people. Neither of them needed convincing to leave, in fact they needed convincing to stay and finish the ceremony (though they still rushed the officiant) before gallivanting off to solve a murder.

Then there was the time they couldn't leave well enough alone while on their honeymoon and ended up saving the life of the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. This woman voluntarily (against her husband's protests that she didn't have to) crawled into a fireplace or vent or something to help her husband use the contraption he made out of her mirrors to spy on the room above, which they had been repeatedly told to leave alone, and remained relatively calm when she found and had to report dead bodies (though she was a coroner) and cheerfully (or as cheerful as you can be when there're murder plots afoot) continued to help him investigate, and did not once complain about the lack of romance on their trip. Though it could be said that solving cases is their form of romance.

And it's not just Julia happy to support William. Murdoch was understanding, maybe even more enthusiastic than she was, when she told him she was going to run for an election of public office, despite how it would reflect on him and possibly affect his job since they were married. He never tried to discourage her from protesting woman's rights, just made sure she knew the potential consequences, and that he would not be able to help if she got arrested, despite his own beliefs. He is always by her side no matter what she does or how it would affect others' perceptions of them. Hell, the man was prepared to ignore some of his religious beliefs just to marry her if she managed to get the divorce, and helped her create evidence of cheating to get that divorce, even though he had been following those beliefs to the letter for most of his life (back to Julia for a minute: she converted, despite struggling with her own faith, just so she could give him the gift of being married in his church). There's also the fact that Murdoch has always wanted to start a family, but Julia cannot have children, and though it was a point of conflict for a bit, he still wanted to marry her anyway.

They are so perfect for each other, not to mention adorable and hilarious. Every time I think of their wedding or honeymoon, the only thought that follows is "Only them"