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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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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)

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911bts · 7 months

Text

What We Know: Season 7

7x01 - “Abandoned ‘Ships”

Writer(s): Tim Minear

Director: John J Gray

Air Date: March 14, 2024

Production Code: 701

Synopsis: Athena and Bobby set off on their honeymoon cruise, but when duty calls, their vacation is put on hold. Meanwhile, a fighter jet traps a civilian, and an unusual incident leaves a couple stuck together.

Stills: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

7x02 - "Rock the Boat"

Writer(s): Lyndsey Beaulieu & Juan Carlos Coto

Director: Brad Buecker

Air Date: March 21, 2024

Production Code: 702

Synopsis: The disastrous cruise continues when Bobby and Athena respond to the ship’s explosion, racing to aid injured passengers. Meanwhile, Hen questions her instincts in a life-taking call and grows concerned about Athena and Bobby’s whereabouts.

Stills: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

7x03 - "Capsized"

Writer(s): Lyndsey Beaulieu & Juan Carlos Coto

Director: Brad Buecker

Air Date: March 28, 2024

Production Code: 703

Synopsis: With each moment becoming critical as the ship is flipped upside down, Athena and Bobby take charge, seeking methods for rescue while navigating efforts to guide survivors to safety. Meanwhile, Hen defies protocols in her search for Bobby and Athena.

Stills: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

7x04 - "Buck, Bothered and Bewildered"

Writer(s): Andrew Meyers & Bradley Marques

Director: Chad Lowe

Air Date: April 4, 2024

Production Code: 704

Synopsis: Upon her return to shore, Athena’s son, Harry, finds himself in trouble with the law. Meanwhile, Buck grows envious as Eddie forms a close bond with someone else, and the 118 rescue a woman who’s stuck on receiving a rose at an iconic mansion.

Stills: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

7x05 - "You Don't Know Me "

Writer(s): Lyndsey Beaulieu & Taylor Wong

Director: Brenna Malloy

Air Date: April 11, 2024

Production Code: 705

Synopsis: Hen and Karen welcome a new addition to their family, while a call unfolds involving a person’s limb that’s taken on a mind of its own. Meanwhile, Eddie and Marisol take a closer look at their relationship, and Buck navigates his new feelings.

Stills: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

7x06 - "There Goes The Groom"

Writer(s): Tim Minear & Nicole Barraza Keim

Director: John J Gray

Air Date: May 2, 2024

Production Code: 706

Synopsis: After years of anticipation, Maddie and Chimney’s long-awaited wedding day arrives. However, when the groom mysteriously vanishes, the 118 races against time to ensure he doesn’t miss the most crucial day of his life.

Stills: part 1, part 2

7x07 - "Ghost of a Second Chance"

Writer(s): Taylor Wong (probably)

Director:

Air Date: May 9, 2023

Production Code: 707

Synopsis: Maddie and Athena investigate a case surrounding an abducted mother and child as Hen and Karen learn more about Mara’s family history. Meanwhile, Eddie grapples with unresolved feelings for someone from his past.

Stills:

7x08 - "Step Nine"

Writer(s): Juan Carlos Coto & Bradley Marques

Director: John J Gray (probably)

Air Date: May 16, 2024

Production Code:

Synopsis:

Stills:

7x09 - "Ashes, Ashes"

Writer(s):

Director:

Air Date: May 23, 2024

Production Code:

Synopsis:

Stills:

7x10 - "All Fall Down"

Writer(s):

Director:

Air Date: May 30, 2024

Production Code:

Synopsis:

Stills:

#911 abc #911 spoilers #s7 #what we know

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morbidology · 8 days

Text

Josh Maddux was said to be a free-spirited and thoughtful teenager with a love for music and a talent for writing. On May 8, 2008, he left his home in Woodland Park, Colorado, for a walk, something he did regularly to clear his mind and enjoy the outdoors. However, on this particular day, Josh never returned.

His family initially thought he might have decided to start a new life elsewhere, as he had often talked about wanting to travel and live independently after graduating from high school. However, as days turned into weeks and weeks into years, hope faded, and the mystery deepened.

Despite numerous searches and investigations, no clues emerged. Woodland Park, a small, tight-knit community, was left grappling with unanswered questions. Where had Josh gone? Was he a runaway, or had something more sinister occurred? The years passed with no resolution, leaving his family in limbo, unable to find closure.

Seven years after Josh’s disappearance, in August 2015, a local builder named Chuck Murphy was demolishing an old cabin he owned, just a mile from the Maddux family home. The cabin had been abandoned for years and was in a state of disrepair. As workers began dismantling the chimney, they made a gruesome discovery—a body, wedged inside the flue.

The remains were later identified as Josh Maddux through dental records. The news sent shockwaves through Woodland Park and reopened the case that had long gone cold. How had Josh ended up in the chimney of a cabin so close to home? And more importantly, why?

The discovery of Josh’s body in the chimney raised more questions than it answered. The initial autopsy revealed no signs of trauma, drug use, or foul play. The coroner suggested that Josh had likely climbed down the chimney and become trapped, eventually dying of hypothermia, dehydration or positional asphyxia. The official cause of death was listed as accidental, but the circumstances remained highly unusual.

One of the most puzzling aspects of the case was how Josh had entered the chimney. The cabin’s chimney was designed with a large, heavy steel rebar grate at the top, intended to keep out animals and debris. This grate was found intact when the body was discovered, leading to speculation that Josh could not have entered from the top. Moreover, the position of his body, with his knees above his head, suggested a difficult and unnatural descent.

Some speculated that Josh had been trying to enter the cabin through the chimney and became stuck, unable to climb back out. However, others found this explanation hard to believe, given Josh’s physical condition and the structure of the chimney. Additionally, there were no signs that he had made any attempt to escape, such as claw marks or damage to the interior of the flue.

A more sinister theory emerged, suggesting that Josh might have been placed in the chimney by someone else. This idea gained traction due to the mysterious nature of his disappearance and the strange circumstances surrounding the discovery of his body. However, without any evidence of foul play, this theory remains speculative.

#Josh Maddux #Mystery #Bizarre #Strange

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9-1-1-polls · 2 months

Text

#911abc #9-1-1 #911 poll #911

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inawickedlittletown · 2 days

Text

Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) - 1/4

Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.

Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2

Words: 3.6k

Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles

Read on Ao3

Part One

“Tommy! Hey, man, what are you doing here?” Chim called out.

Buck followed his line of sight. He didn’t know the man standing up on the loft, hands resting on the railing, already in uniform. He also didn’t understand why Bobby was coming up behind him still in jeans and a button down. Neither of them said a word, but the guy — Tommy — offered them a nod.

“Hey, who is that?” Buck asked as he and Chim made it into the locker room.

“Tommy? He used to work here, transferred to the 217 a few years ago right before you started. Come to think of it, I guess you replaced him,” Chim said.

“And now he’s back?”

Chim shrugged his shoulders and Buck settled for getting out of his street clothes and into his uniform quickly. Eddie ran in looking confused too. After the week they’d had they had all been looking forward to things going back to normal. No heists, no police raiding their homes, and no more questions from detectives.

They made it up just in time to join Hen and a few of the others. Bobby had them gather around the table with Tommy standing somewhere behind him. It seemed it was more than just Chim that knew him going by the fist bumps and high fives and nods and smiles exchanged. Buck couldn’t keep his eyes from straying towards Tommy because there was something so absolutely captivating and Buck couldn’t put his finger on it other than to acknowledge that yes Tommy was one of the most beautiful men that Buck had ever seen.

And then, Bobby told them he was being investigated. He was suspended pending the investigation and Tommy Kinard was taking over as Captain for the time being. Bobby seemed resigned more than anything and behind him Tommy just stood silently as they all tried to argue that Bobby shouldn’t be investigated for something he’d more than atoned for. Buck was the one that walked Bobby out to his car.

“It’s okay, Buck,” Bobby said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if this is the way it goes this is the way it goes.”

“Is there anything I can do? Anything any of us can do?”

Bobby smiled at him. He pat his shoulder. “Not at the moment. Just gotta wait and see.”

“How are you this calm?”

“I always knew it was a possibility. You should get back in there. New Captain and all.”

Buck grabbed Bobby’s arm. “Wait, who is that guy?”

“Tommy? He’s good people. It was going to be Chim, but Tommy was available and the Chief decided Tommy could do it. Not permanently—”

“Because you’ll be back in no time,” Buck said.

Bobby rolled his eyes. “We don’t know that. For now he’s your Captain, don’t make things any harder than they need to be.”

“Sure. Sure.”

“I mean it, Buck.”

He headed back in and found Chim, Hen, Eddie, and their new interim Captain in the kitchen.

His eyes found Tommy and it was hard to look away, especially when he was smiling. His teeth were just so white and the skin on the edges of his eyes crinkled. His jaw was defined, sharp as can be and his chin had a cleft. He was captivating.

“Buck, come over here and meet Tommy,” Chim called out, motioning for him. “Tommy, this is Buck.”

“Buckley,” Tommy said. “Your name isn’t Buck Buckley is it?”

There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. Buck was struck by Tommy’s gaze. His eyes were blue and piercing, it was as if he were looking right through Buck to his very soul.

“Uh, Evan,” Buck said.

“Evan,” Tommy said and he said it like it was important, like Buck was important.

—

Tommy wasn’t happy about the placement. It felt like a punishment, especially for someone like him. Of course, it was better than the alternative. He was grounded. No flying for him. Captain Reid had given him a choice and as dumb as the whole situation was, he supposed that being at the 118 as acting Captain was better than having to sit out on air support calls at the 217 and watching everyone else get to climb into the helicopters and go up leaving him to respond with the ground crew. He’d see the judgment from some and the pity from others. So, no thank you.

Of course, going back to the 118 meant that he’d be facing his past and that…well, that could go wrong if Tommy let it.

The timing had just happened to work out and though Tommy wasn’t privy to why Captain Nash was getting investigated, he just knew that it would blow over. There was no way they had anything on him that would lose the man his job. The short time that Tommy had worked with him, he’d been impressed and if it hadn’t been for the opportunity to get back in the air, he would have stuck around. Maybe he would have even managed to tell them all the truth. Or maybe, he never would have built up the nerve.

The moment he stepped into the 118 again it felt like going back in time. His bag was slung over his shoulder as he walked past the trucks and he found Captain Nash regarding the trucks. He looked mostly resigned.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Tommy said. “Can I ask what happened?”

“I wanted to tell them myself. It’s my past catching up with me. I always knew it could be a possibility,” Bobby said. “I’m sure you heard about the bank heist we almost got framed for?”

Tommy chuckled, bemused. “What? No. I didn’t.”

He’d been a little too busy dealing with his own shit to pay attention to something like that.

Bobby chuckled in response. “It was a long week,” he said.

“The Chief didn’t say much,” Tommy said.

“Well, we had a call to a bank and afterwards money and diamonds were missing. Someone put the cash on the truck, so they looked into all of us pretty deeply. They found stuff about my transfer and here we are.”

“I’m sure this will all get cleared up,” Tommy said. “There have been worse people that managed to keep their jobs in the LAFD.”

He could tell that Bobby wasn’t convinced as he walked past him to the familiar locker room. Tommy had loved this place once, had thought that he’d found where he belonged. Of course, it had also meant compromising who he really was. He’d been so deep in that closet, but it was entirely about self-preservation. Leaving the 118 as much as it had been about flying, had been about being ready to embrace who he was. It had been about telling the truth.

Returning to the 118 felt like falling backwards. Back into the lies. Back into the closet. Back into the mindset that he had to build up a wall to keep himself safe. Except that…he could choose differently. He didn’t need to lie. He was the Captain, they didn’t need to know anything about his personal life. If they asked, Tommy wouldn’t lie. He wasn’t going backwards.

He met back up with Bobby at the loft. It still looked the same as when he’d left.

“Circumstances aside, how do you feel about being back here?” Bobby asked. “I know this wasn’t your first choice.”

“It was my only choice,” Tommy said. “I’m excited to work with Chimney and Hen again. Timing worked out, I guess. Who would they have gotten the position otherwise?”

“Chim,” Bobby said. “But once the Chief mentioned you might be up for it, I figured that worked just as well. You know this house and you know the job.”

Tommy ducked his head. “And I’m rooting for you to be back as soon as possible,” Tommy added.

“There’s that, too.”

“Chim would have made a good Captain,” Tommy said.

“Yes. I just don’t think he would have liked it.”

He could tell that Bobby hadn’t been told why Tommy was available, and Tommy didn’t offer the information. He wondered if Bobby would be alright with him taking his spot if he knew? Somehow, he did think that Bobby would be on his side. Hell, even Captain Reid was on his side even if his hands were tied. He thought that Bobby was about to ask, but Bobby was too professional to ask even if he did look curious.

Bobby took him through a few things back in his office — the office Tommy would be taking over. He was warned about the paperwork, but Tommy already did more than his share of paperwork back at the 217.

It had never been a goal of his to make it to Captain. He wondered if giving Sal a call as the acting Captain of the 118 might be warranted. He’d wanted it so badly back then and now it was Tommy in the position even if temporary. Sal might get a laugh out of that. He could send Gerrard a postcard too with just two words on it “Fuck-You”. Tommy never said he couldn’t be petty. All things considered, it was nice to think of doing things like that, but Tommy wouldn’t. He and Sal had lost touch a while back a little bit on purpose and Tommy hoped to never have to see Gerrard ever again.

By the time that they heard the A-shift getting in, Tommy was as prepared as could be. He wouldn’t live up to what Bobby was as a Captain, but he would try his best and rely on having good people working under him. If nothing else, Tommy had time and experience on his hands and he was a damn good firefighter. A pilot too.

What Tommy was not expecting was the gorgeous man walking in with Howie. So maybe, it’d be a little more complicated than he’d expected.

So maybe he checked out a guy every once in a while. Buck was appreciative of the human form and sometimes those forms were male. It was normal. Completely and absolutely normal and everyone did that right? He had never really thought about it, but could easily admit to himself that Tommy Kinard was a beautiful man.

Throughout that first shift with Captain Kinard in command, Buck might have let his eyes linger on the man more than should be normal, he just couldn’t help himself. It didn’t help that Tommy was competent too. No one could ever replace Bobby, but he could admit that Tommy knew what he was doing. Within a few calls, he seemed to know who worked well together and who did what best. He was creative, too, and open to suggestions.

The one weird thing was that Tommy insisted on calling him Evan. Not in a condescending way or anything, but just because that’s the name that he felt like using. Stranger still was how much Buck liked it, it was why he didn’t correct him, not even when Chim made a face at him.

“Evan, get the jaws,” Tommy ordered. “Hen, how’s it looking in there?”

The car accident wasn’t major, luckily. The girl inside couldn’t have been more than seventeen and she’d been panicking ever since the shock wore off.

Buck returned with the jaws just in time to see Tommy lean to speak to the girl from the passenger side. His voice was calm and reassuring. It was so smooth and was it bad that Buck wanted to just listen to him speak forever? Could he narrate every book that Buck wanted to read? Or start a podcast?

“Buck, what’s the hold up?” Hen asked.

He blinked and rushed forward. “Sorry.”

He thought he saw Tommy quirk an eyebrow.

With help from Eddie, he got the door open and removed. Hen did a more thorough check up and Tommy stayed nearby. The girl seemed awed by him and Buck didn’t blame her one bit.

A couple rushed towards them, escorted by Athena.

“Amelia!” the woman shouted.

“Parents,” Athena said. Before any of them could move, Tommy got to them.

“Your daughter is fine,” Tommy told them. “Just give my paramedic time to check her over. We don’t even think she’ll need to go to the hospital.”

On their way back to the station, they started discussing their dinner options. Buck was sure that if a few of them — not Eddie — got into the kitchen they could come up with enough edible food. Nothing on par with Bobby’s cooking but edible, Buck had picked up enough over the years. Tommy didn’t seem to trust that.

“Maybe we’ll attempt that another day,” Tommy said to Evan.

“Pizza it is,” Chim said. “You know, Cap is the one usually doing the cooking. You don’t want to give it whirl, Tommy?”

Tommy laughed. Hen joined in.

“If you want to get food poisoning.”

“You can’t cook?” Buck asked. “Can’t be worse than Eddie.”

“Hey, I can microwave stuff,” Eddie said.

They all burst into laughter.

When they got back to the station, Buck somehow found himself on his own with Tommy. Chim had been tasked with ordering the food and Hen had gone with him to make sure he got it right. Eddie was already on the phone with Shannon which was the norm for him since they’d reconnected. Buck thought that Eddie was looking a lot happier, as complicated as it all seemed to be.

“How do you think I’m doing on my first day?”

“Uh…you want my opinion?” Buck asked. “I’m…I mean you’re doing good. You cl-clearly know what you’re doing.”

Tommy stared at him and then gave a nod. “Thanks, Evan.”

Buck didn’t want him to walk away. He still knew very little about Tommy. Just that he’d transferred out of the 118 right before Buck arrived as a probie and now he was back to his old house. He’d also been a firefighter longer than any of them, going by how he’d talked about Chim’s first day as a probie.

“Hey, so how come you left the 118?” Buck asked.

“It was time. And I wanted to get back in the air,” Tommy said.

Buck lost a step, but caught up to Tommy’s strides. “Wait, the air? So you’re air support? Like planes? Or helicopters?”

“Both. But mostly helicopters,” Tommy confirmed.

It only made Tommy that much hotter. And wait…since when did Buck think that men were hot? Maybe not like in general, but Tommy was…if you had eyes there was no way to miss that he was hot.

“You were the one Chim called that time at that fire. Saved Eddie’s life…well, Eddie and the kid he was rescuing.”

“Yeah,” Tommy said with a chuckle.

“That’s really cool. So why — why give that up to come and boss us around?”

At that, Tommy lost the smile. The crinkles around his eyes went away, replaced by frown lines on his forehead.

“I should go fill out some reports,” Tommy said and walked away.

“Touchy subject, I guess,” Buck said and watched as Tommy walked away from him, unable to tear his eyes from his back and yes, maybe checking him out just a little. Was it his fault that Tommy’s ass filled out his uniform really well?

—

They really were a family. It wasn’t shocking to him, but it still left him feeling more than a little jealous because this is the thing that Tommy had always wanted. He’d thought he would find it in the Army and then he thought he would find that as a firefighter, and then his expectations had been lower when he transferred to Harbor and as much as he liked it there, it wasn’t a family. They were co-workers and some were friendlier than others, but it was nothing like whatever was happening at the 118.

He watched them banter throughout the day, and as welcoming as they were, he didn’t quite fit. They had inside jokes and a way of communicating that made their work quick and efficient. Tommy wasn’t supposed to be their friend, that kept him outside of it too. He didn’t know how Bobby had managed to balance it all.

“Tommy, you joining us?” Hen asked. “You know we all eat together around here.”

Tommy let out a breath. “I’ll be right there.”

“How are you holding up?” Hen asked, always perceptive. “Being the Captain?”

“I have a good team. It’s not too bad,” Tommy said. “Different, I guess. I haven’t been on this many ground calls in a while.”

She asked him about Harbor and as long as Tommy didn’t have to talk about the events of a week ago, he could discuss it. He could see Evan and Eddie listening in, but other than Chim, no one chimed in.

After dinner they had a call out to an attempted suicide. He stood back and watched as Hen and Chim worked to get the guy out of the car he’d landed on after jumping off a building. His gaze then found Evan.

Evan who was helping with the gurney and talking to the owner of the car. Evan who was capable and well meaning and who had been his replacement when he transferred. It would have been easier if Evan was less interesting and less adorable. He was straight, though, and there had been mention of a girlfriend. Tommy had crushed on enough straight guys to know how it went, but there was just something about Evan. Maybe it was the happy-go-lucky attitude, or how confident he was out on calls. Or maybe it was just how good he looked while wearing turnouts.

By the time their shift ended, Tommy had been cajoled into joining them out for a drink. Eddie turned them down because he had a date with his wife. He almost expected Evan to excuse himself too in favor of spending time with his girlfriend, but instead he was happy to have an excuse not to go home.

“You don’t have a home,” Chim said.

Tommy looked between them.

“Just because I’m staying with Maddie, doesn’t mean I don’t have a home,” Evan threw back. Turning to Tommy, he said, “I’ve started searching for my own place. It’s just hard.”

Hen didn’t comment, but she shook her head and pat Evan’s arm. Tommy found all of it curious.

At the bar, Tommy found himself in the booth with Evan to his left and as the night went on he felt like Evan had gotten closer and closer to him. He didn’t mind, liked the line of his warmth, and liked how every time Evan moved, he brushed up against him. It was dangerous, though, and Tommy couldn’t let this infatuation grow.

“So, Tommy, you seeing anyone?” Hen asked.

Tommy shook his head. “Not at the moment,” he said and this was his moment. It was presented to him perfectly. He just needed to say it.

It was the time to tell them he dated men and that to be entirely clear they were first dates or hookups because Tommy was not luckily enough to find someone that wanted something deeper with him. Everytime he tried…well, Tommy just wasn’t lucky enough to find someone that fit.

On apps they were all interested because of what he looked like and then he took the time to set up a date and then he was disappointed because those guys wanted to sleep with him and weren’t actually interested in getting to know him. Half the time they didn’t even want to go on a date as much as meet up for a romp in the sheets. The same thing happened at bars. He’d be approached, sure, but nothing ever actually went anywhere. Tommy was actually getting sick of trying.

“Really?” Evan said. “But you’re so…I mean, who wouldn’t want to date you.”

And then, Evan reached over and felt up his arm. His fingers lingered and Tommy glanced down at Evan’s hand and then back at Evan. Evan went pink and he dropped his hand to his lap as if he’d had no control over his hand. He coughed.

“Sorry.”

“That’s precisely why,” Tommy said. “Seems all anyone sees is the muscles.”

“Their loss,” Evan said, staring at him. “You are definitely more than just brawn.”

When he met Hen’s eyes, she looked like she was squinting at him. Tommy decided it was time he get their next round. He was surprised when Evan bumped his shoulder a moment later.

“Wanted to help you carry,” Evan said, but he looked like it was actually more than that.

“What is it, Evan?”

Evan shifted on his feet. “I just…I wanted to say that I get it. Not, uh, not being seen for more than one aspect of who you are. I only met you today and I’m…I mean, you’re impressive.”

“Impressive, huh?” Tommy asked, looking at him, askance.

Evan was…was he blushing? Because the pink on his cheeks was definitely more than a result of the beers he’d drunk.

“You fly helicopters,” Evan responded and seemed on the verge of listing other things, except the bartender arrived with the four beers he’d asked for.

Tommy could have carried them on his own, but he let Evan grab two of them. When they got back in the booth, he tried to keep some space between them, but it didn’t matter for long.

“Buck, you haven’t talked about Ali lately,” Hen said and it felt pointed even if Hen wasn’t looking at him.

Evan leaned back. “She’s in Seattle for a few days,” he informed them. “Not much to say when I haven’t seen her in a while.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Looking at Evan, Tommy couldn’t tell if that bothered him or not. He did see Hen and Chim share a look that Evan missed. Was there a story there? If there was, no one was willing to tell him.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fic #buck x tommy #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 abc #911 fic #tevan #kinley

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haunted4kent · 14 days

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" blood struck. " t. todoroki

✧˚ · . 𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 ; wield the sword, seek vengeance, and watch it turn to ash beneath his blade.

word count ; 2.5k

a/n ; i havent written like this in a HOT minute, but i hope you enjoy <33 dis so random and i just want to be evil and give a super sloppy villain creation 4 dabs with sword like action lol

A villain killer. Instead of being quote “heroic”, taking down a common thug for robberies and sending them off to jail to rot. You were infamous for killing villains, the evilest people on the heights of wanted lists. You believed their evil deeds were only atoneable by death.

The death of your best friend made you this way, twisted the word “hero”.

Being a hero was putting an end to the evil, right? So why attempt to salvage the unsalvageable?

How could a hero who believed in the “ideal” heroic ways been what he was? Be so thirsty to surpass that in the process, have been the reason your best friend was engulfed by his power?

You knew you were a hero, you were the ideal hero. You removed the gunk and nasty build-up that was sitting for long enough. You were cleaning the filth bit by bit.

Your identity has become one of Japan's largest mysteries.

“WHO IS KILLING VILLAINS?”

“WHICH HERO WILL BE ABLE TO TAKE DOWN THIS DISHONORABLE HUMAN?!”

Even the public wanted you dead, can't they see that they aren't looking into the details enough? They want you dead for killing the evil and don't see how they are protesting against the salvation of Japan. It was a hero that made you “evil.”

Dishonorable?

You have had to mourn since you were 13 years old. Mourn a hero’s wrongdoing, Endeavor’s wrongdoing.

The League of Villains, although you didn't support the “prestigious” UA High. The attempt to harm children was enough for you to take action, and with enough investigation, you found a pinpoint location.

8 elite villains and you promised yourself you'd rid the world of. You wanted them to fear the sight of your eyes, you didn't care if they wanted to rid All Might, you wanted to be an issue that lingered in the back of their minds.

“WHAT IF THEY COME FOR US.”

The night was foggy, and you stood crouched atop the first tower of the large mansion-like residence. Smoke floods out of the chimney fogging the glow the moon provided, and the little light from down below.

It reminded you of the small fires he’d light at night to keep you warm. So proud that that had become an easy task. So glad that you were proud of even that,

The only villains you considered a real threat were the silver-haired man and the samurai. Which could go against your power, but with your lifelong experience, you saw no real problem.

5 of the core group had stepped outside in the courtyard of the home, which was listed as abandoned and vacant online. There was no sight of the leader or the man who wielded a katana. It was time to make a move.

You quickly scaled down the brick tower, your sword shrieking against the cobblestone.

Quickly a man began to panic, babbling on to himself like a maniac. Pathetic. Their attacks as a whole aren't impressive, considering the lack of response they have, or coordination.

Easily taken down and put unconscious with a blunt strike to the head. However, you came across some trouble with clustering and having to use kicks or elbows to get them from surrounding you.

As they lay unconscious, the part that you found easy came. To stomp off the filth with the sharp end of your wielded weapon.

In the silence, cries muffled from what felt like afar, and you take in that the man who began to panic wasn't lying before you. The cries triggered your brain, nobody had ever gotten away, let alone run far enough to cry.

Your mind plays the day you watched your young tears hit the black ash on the ground beneath you. When everyone tried to find him. You were scared and wanted to run away too.

Sekoto Peak was a place of anguish.

Were you feeling sentimental because you had to worry about another samurai? Did it remind you of him?

The harrowing clank of your boot hitting the cobble echoed in your ears, his arms covering the area of his torn mask before he released to look up at you. You felt different, the tears in his eyes, the true fear of death.

Is this how Touya felt when he panicked to attempt to extinguish his body?

You swing the blunt end of your sword into his temple, watching the man lightly bleed from the head. You stand still, pulling your hood from your head.

“Heh.”

A long rasp shatters the silence, and the swipe of your left blade strikes through the air.

You can't lose that katana.

A cold point pushes into your jugular, and panic surges through your blood. Your sword lifts instinctively and stops abruptly at the sight before you. Those eyes, they run you cold. Those eyes, you remember them.

“Dad’s always with Shoto. I want him to come to Sekoto to see how my flames have improved. He set this fire under me and now that he can't put it out he's upset? He’s being cruel to me, he always has been. Thank you so much for coming up with me Y/n, I just don't know how to feel.”

Touya Todoroki stands before you in the flesh.

"You carry my blade?" He tilts his head at you, a boyish grin sitting plastered upon his skin. You drown in the depth of his eyes, like an ocean that has swept you up in an instant.

You feel the strain of your own eyes, if you blink, could he disappear from before you? Your heart twists at the sight of him, charred. You struggle to choke out the name. "Touya."

“Nuh, not anymore.” The grin that spreads across him is chilling, a splatter of blood sitting upon your face. He’s killed you without pushing the sword into your throat.

“I'm surprised you knew. Not even my damned brother did.” His voice is conflicting with your mind, it is trying to piece together the Touya you knew 11 years ago with the one that stands before you.

"I know, pretty disgusting."

He smiles, the cape that drapes your back is set ablaze and in a quick movement you rip it from your back, watching the blue-soaked cloak be consumed by his flame. In the process, he has slit the belt on your waist with one slick slash.

“What are you doing." It stings, stop it. No. Your tears have only been shed at the hands of Touya, his death. His flames became your tears the day he died, and they burn.

“You don't think I looked into you the moment I woke up? There was nothing, nothing!” You can only kneel before him in the state you're in. The reason you kill is because of him, and he has been alive. "You moved away, you weren't online, you had no fucking record!" He was acting like a maniac, crazed like you've never seen.

He continues on, even swinging his blade around carelessly. “Until I saw you sitting in Sekoto, visiting it like I was stuck beneath the ground and needed saving. I knew you were the only person who remembered “Touya Todoroki.”, and I had to wipe that name from the earth. Like shit stuck to the bottom of my shoe.”

Your vocal cords are engulfed by the sting of tears and he steps forward, letting his sword shriek by his side.

The cold metal settles at the bottom of your chin.

You can't rid of the expression on your face and he's thrilled. “Then after not seeing you for years, a woman starts killing villains out of the blue. It was a goddamn mystery.”

The focus you had on the world has become impaired, you can hear your heartbeat in your chest. He doesn't care about you anymore, does he? Why do you want to feel his heartbeat, tear his heart from his chest, make sure he is real?

“Those eyes, you should know I'd know those eyes anywhere. All I needed was one glance, and I knew your every motive. They glew in vengeance, like my power carried on in them. You thought I was weak too, and you tried to cover up your evil deeds with the excuse that my death was my father's fault!” He cackled.

“That’s- that's not it Touya.” You've been lighten ablaze, and your tears uncontrollably fall and stain the cobble.

“Is that it? Anger, anger that I caused has fueled this monster before me?” A low chuckle falls from his lips, one that is filled with disappointment compared to the hysteric hiccups of laughter he was just sputtering out.

“Stop. Enough- I’ve had enough.”

His sword tilts your chin back up. “Now you've had enough? After you've mourned it's become enough!?” His voice rises, and your fists clench.

Your teeth grind together like bone, bone that can be snapped with a hit that lands hard enough. His bone will crumble like ash.

“Get up and stop me from killing you Y/n.”

Your bones crack wrapping the blade of the sword, and you swing it into his blade, knocking it from beneath your chin.

“You should never hold the sword by its blade.” His swing sparks with your sword, and you freeze, before rolling to get to your feet. You hate the fucking cold. Why are you so cold?

“Just move, goddammit move!” You thought.

You knew you were better than this, you just needed to move your arms.

Another swing was speeding towards you, and your sword lifted to defend it. The moment the two swords collided, you felt you were present again.

“You have to recognize your own body, if you don't, it'll never have time to know what your opponent is going to do next. You’ll be too busy figuring yourself out.”

His words of the past conflicted with your every move. You automatically swing your blade downward, but he catches it. “I taught you that move you idiot!” You continue to struggle to land a hit, you have a specialty in mobility, but his work with a sword is unmatched. Until he leaves his chest open, you shove your forearm into his chest, and in his fall his blade slices into your arm.

You bleed over the cobblestone, and he is already getting up off his knees. Stumbling back your blood dripping blends with the scene of your tears when you stood in the ash of Sekoto.

“I was asleep for 3 years and you still haven't improved a bit! All that time, and you've still disappointed me. What potential will you reach if you can't land a blow!” His taunts pushed you further.

Rip his heart from his chest, you need to know he's real.

Your body pushes itself forward, leaping up. His sword tries to fly up into your leg, but your boot kicks it, landing your knee straight into the crevice of his neck.

You roll off after he hits the ground, and you're cold again when you see his cheek is falling apart. His eyes are filled with blood.

“You're a lunatic. Who are you!” You plead, why does he want to hurt you? The adrenaline is dying down and you're beginning to feel the depth of your injury.

“Don’t pity me. You've always had that shitty savior complex. That's why you became what you became right? To prove that people that my father saved are supposed to be killed because he didn't even want to save me?” His hand twitches out in blue flames, and your body throws itself away before the burst flies up to where you were kneeling.

“You excelled! If anything, when he knew I couldn't be a hero he thought to even offer you training!” His charred laughs came breathless as he picked himself back up, through the smoke, the side of his face was streaked with blood. He drops the blade, letting it clank.

Your breath breaks and your voice cracks, a mixture of tears and screeched shouts come from your throat.

“Why would you ever want to make that sick man proud Touya?! He created children to surpass a hero he himself couldn't! Why would you ever want to make that proud!”

“You don't get it!” He shouts. “He lit that goddamn fire beneath me!” He’s slipping, struggling to lift his body as his flames grow stronger around his body.

“Maybe we can be heroes together! We can save people and be the best. That's all I've ever wanted, and I want you by my side.”

“If you can't even save yourself! How the hell are you going to save others!” He chokes out. The courtyard is filled with the glow of his flames, he's trying to pick himself up, but his body is ready to embrace death. He finally crawls completely defenseless towards you, dropping his heat-stricken body in your arms, his head rests upon you.

A large blast fields your vision, and you let it engulf you.

You were always consumed by Touya Todoroki’s flame.

“The katana is a blade to be held only by those with potential.”

His hair was so white, his arm burned just at the skin, his tummy with peeling skin. That's the Touya you remember, and the one you'll die remembering.

“Y/n.” You felt empty, he had taken off the charred mask from your face. The pressure on your arm was uncomfortable, but it was wrapped well, it didn't sting. His fingers run warm against your forearm that lays off the couch.

You're constantly homesick, and it's been that way since he died. Since that boy died, your blood has run cold, and you have become who you hated the most. You became a killer. You became his killer by ideal, kill those who are not worthy enough for you.

“Open your eyes.” It came more sternly than your name, and when you did, he was sitting in front of the couch you had been lying on.

At 20, you gave up looking. You had to believe that Touya was dead. He had been turned to ash and he was no phoenix that would rise from the ashes. You picked up your sword again and went to do what you believed in, a belief his flame created. What that death turned you into. At 21, you were already widespread.

“I'm sorry Touya.” The tears were already warm down your face, and the dried blood on his soaked the new streaks that fell.

You no longer had purpose to wield a sword, or to consider yourself a samurai when he was around. You were just you, and he was him.

He lifts from the floor, his blood-ridden face being the first thing you notice before it's his eyes, So struck. You push yourself up and his hand wraps around your torso.

"Damn you, I waited so long."

You were no longer a hero. You sought revenge alongside him, and he did rise from the ashes, he rose as an inferno.

#✧˚ · . writing #i love characters willed by death #he was just a baby vro.#mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #dabi todoroki #touya todoroki #touya x reader #dabi x reader

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sitp-recs · 2 months

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Hey, again love your recs! I'm completely in love with Drarry because of these lovely stories. Wondering, an recs with a rugged Harry/ Draco ( as in manual labour), and always sweet and smutty is always a win. I appreciate your time, thanks a bunch!

Thank you anon, I’m happy to hear that! Ohh very interesting ask, here are some E-rated fics for you. You might also enjoy this list with buff!Draco 🫡

Hot Metal by @bafflinghaze (E, 5k)

Harry Can’t Deal with the vision of Malfoy hot and sweaty at work in his blacksmithing forge. Meanwhile, Draco is entirely perplexed with Potter’s odd behaviour.

Heart to Hearth by @jtimu (E, 7k)

It should perhaps not have been a surprise that the repairman on his front step came not with coveralls and a toolbox but instead with a sardonic stare and a raised eyebrow. Harry stood in his open door and shut his mouth with an effort.

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

Draco Malfoy, blacksmith, is renowned through the magical world for his skill and exquisite creations. He could quite easily spend the rest of his days making pretty trinkets for the fae court, and being handsomely rewarded for the privilege. But why take the easy route when instead he could get involved in a dangerous mission with Unspeakable Harry Potter (who also happens to be Draco's... well, he's something, isn't he?).

Hippomancy for Beginners by khalulu (E, 11k)

When Draco desperately insists on becoming a Centaur Liaison, he doesn’t know what he’s getting into, especially with that annoying hero-turned-hermit Harry Potter living right at the entrance to the Forbidden Forest. Not to mention foreign unicorn women, slavering three headed beasts, bitter brews, unexpected friendships, and the consequences of a very cocky vocabulary.

Voices From The Fog by noeon (E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

One Floo Over the Lovegood’s Nest by Nattish (T, 14k)

Harry is not terribly surprised that there are magical plumbers, chimney sweeps, and pest control men. He is surprised that one of them is Draco Malfoy. And that he’s bloody hot in a jumpsuit.

Phoenix Repair Services by carpemermaid (E, 20k)

Draco hires a suspiciously private wizarding handyman to fix his kitchen when he returns home to find it destroyed. He expects a middle-aged wizard with greying hair and a pudgy gut to show up. Instead, he gets Harry Potter—with a utility belt and a charming smile—who is more attractive than he has any right to be.

Here Be Dragons by birdsofshore (E, 21k)

Harry doesn’t want to waste his time investigating illegal dragonhide trading, whether it involves a fetish club in Knockturn Alley or visiting a remote island in Wales. Why the bloody hell does Malfoy always have to be up to something?

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 77k)

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #rugged drarry #manual labor

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short-honey-badger · 9 months

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Peppermint Tea 16- Lavender 1

Alright, guys. I really hope you enjoy how I've gone about introducing Shanks to the reader. I'm not looking to complicate anything. I just want to have fun, and my two handsome boys deserve it.

Pairings. Reader x Shanks, Reader x Dracule Mihawk

Warnings! None. Shanks is flirty. Mihawk is only mentioned for now.

Masterlist

Shanks doesn’t expect to see an island this far out of the way of everything. It’s unnervingly close to the calm belt, and the Yonko probably would have never found it if he and his crew hadn’t been on a three-day bender after a successful raid on the last island. Maybe it was a little irresponsible of him and his crew, but sometimes he just liked to see where the Grand Line would take them. This tiny island was new, so that obviously meant that he and his crew should check it out.

Lucky Roux drops the anchor, and Shanks flashes to shore with his first and second mates. The island is on the smaller side, though a small mountain range rises in the west. The jungle is thick, and Shanks can hear all manner of wildlife within. The sands of the long beach they’ve landed on are beautiful and inviting, prompting a big grin to stretch over the redhead's face, “Get the booze, Benn. I think this will be the perfect place.”

The older man scoffs at his captain, but he has already turned around to begin shouting orders to the men. Shanks and Yasopp step further into the island, and that’s when the Yonko spots a small footpath that leads into the jungle. He nods his head to the path, and Yasopp unhooks his pistoles from his belt.

The two men follow the footpath for a while. It winds through the thick foliage until it empties out into a clearing. The sight isn’t something either man is expecting.

A cottage sits innocently in the middle of the clearing. Several sea glass wind chimes hang from the front stoop, and the tinkling melody is pleasant on his ears. Three chickens are clucking around, and even a moody-looking goat glares at them from its pen. A massive garden sits on the left side of the building, and Shanks can see smoke rising from the chimney. Yasopp gives his captain a look, only to jerk back around when they hear the door of the cottage swing open.

Shanks can hear music playing loudly from inside, a slow, bluesy tune that has his browns rising. No wonder whoever lived here had not heard the commotion he and his men made. A massive furry, grey mutt comes running out of the house, going straight after the chickens and sending the hens flying into the air. The rooster crows and chases after the dog, sending the mutt careening backward to run the other way. Last but not least, Shanks watches a young woman step out of the house.

His heart speeds up when he sees her. She is stunning, the sunlight bouncing off her hair and making her glow in the morning light. She is dressed in tight leggings and a loose but thick-looking sweater poncho, and Shanks wonders why the young woman would want to dress that way in such warm weather. He dismisses the thought and starts walking forward, a grin on his face as he opens his mouth to shout a greeting.

“Hello! We didn’t know that this island had already belonged to someone. We saw the foot trails at the beach and wanted to investigate.”

Shanks watches as you freeze in place, and his eyes widen just a tad when he sees snow flurries scatter around you. Huh, a devil fruit user all the way out here. He plasters an easy smile on his face and saunters forward only to stop when he catches the glare on the young woman’s face. He raised his hand in the air to show that he meant no harm.

“We didn’t mean to frighten you! I just wanted to see if it would be okay if my crew and I could crash here for a little while. Can I come closer to introduce myself and my friend here?”

The shaggy mutt seems to answer for you as he bounds forward and slams into Shanks. He grunts and keeps his footing, bending down to pet the dog, “You sure got a friendly mutt!”

You grimace as you watch your fool of a dog run right up to the red-haired stranger. You stomp forward, annoyed at having your day ruined by some unknown captain and his crew, but at least he was being friendly. You examine the man when you get close enough, taking in his beach bum outfit and shaggy red hair. His face is scruffy with unruly facial hair, and he has three scars over his left eye. When the wind blows, his cloak opens enough that you get a peek at the empty space on his left side. The way he held himself reminded you interestingly enough of Mihawk. Maybe that’s why you decided to humor the pirate.

“His name is Hank. How um. How long would you and your crew want to stay here?” You ask him as you come to a stop a safe distance away. The last people to come to your island had been the pirates that Mihawk had taken care of, so it unnerved you to have someone else show up.

Shanks shrugs, “For as long as you tolerate us,” he says with a handsome grin. You fight down the way your cheeks heat up when he directs that look right at you. He stands and offers you his hand, “I’m Shanks, and that’s my second mate, Yasopp.”

You reach to shake his hand, and a feeling of Deja vu settles over you when he lifts your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. Shanks winks at you, lips curling in a teasing smirk when you jerk your hand away from him. Quietly, you offer your name and give a small smile to Yasopp.

Shanks repeats your name slowly, tasting each syllable as he watches you step away. Your goat has escaped its pen and now stands at your side, beady eyes seeming to stare into his soul. You drop your hand on top of its head and scratch at where the horns grow out of its head, “Oh, this is Neal. He isn’t very fond of men, so you may want to steer clear of him.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Shanks snickers and waves Yasopp away, “Go on back to the ship. Tell the others that we are guests here.”

The dark-skinned man grinned and gave a quick salute and a goodbye to you before he loped off back through the jungle.

Now alone, Shanks shifts his weight and gives you an assessing look, “So. What’s a beautiful girl like you doing all alone on an island so close to the Calm Belt?”

You lick your lips, filing the new bit of information away for later. Dracule had yet to tell you where your island was located. You had stopped asking a long time ago for maps and topography graphs, especially after Mihawk had told you about the more dangerous places and players inside the Grand Line. You were happy on your island, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to know where you were.

But now that you thought about it, you were 80% sure that the man in front of you was one of the few people that Dracule had warned you about. Red Haired Shanks, Captain of the Red Force, and one of the four Emporers of the Sea.

“I live here, have my whole life,” you tell him and settle for being vague. If Dracule told you to be wary, then be wary you would be.

Shanks makes a huh sound in the back of his throat, “Really? Seems pretty lonely out here,” He comments, and you shrug as an answer, “Will you show me around? You’ve got a lovely home.”

You can’t help but burn in pride at his comment. You are very fond of your home and all the work you’ve put into it, so you don’t think twice when you nod and begin to lead the captain to your home. Shanks follows with a smug grin, eyes flickering over your shapely legs as he follows you.

You don’t take him inside yet. Instead, you point out the gardens and flower beds that line your home and show him the view from the cliff behind the cottage. Neal had thankfully wandered back into his pen, but Hank seemed to have taken a liking to Shanks, for the big lug had yet to leave the pirate's side. You shoot him a look. Traitor.

Surprisingly, the redhead makes good conversation after getting over the awkwardness of the sudden visitation, and you find yourself relaxing in his presence. He seemed genuine in his goodwill and cheer, and his lax behavior had you smiling and inviting him inside.

“Would you like some tea?” You ask after a moment of comfortable silence. Shanks easily agrees, and you lead him inside your home. Neal bleats and tries to bite Shanks when he passes the pen, and the redhead shoots the goat a glare.

You snicker at the sight and go about the kitchen to make your guest some tea. You avoid the peppermint, which is meant specifically for Mihawk, and instead settle on a strong lavender tea. You mix in sugar for both mugs and then hand it off to Shanks.

Shanks sips, humming at the taste and finding it not bad. He wasn’t usually a tea person, but he could be polite. He looks around your home, taking in the hanging herbs and the strings of peppers that crisscross by your windows. Your home looks straight out of a storybook, and the homey atmosphere has him sighing deeply, shoulders loose and relaxed. Shanks doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this in someone else’s presence. He takes another sip of the sweet-tasting drink and casts his eyes to the opening of the living room, and his gaze promptly zeros in on a familiar-looking coat.

It's a long coat, dark and made out of fine leather with intricate patterns sewn into the arms and along the sides. The inside is a deep dead, and Shanks knows in that instant that this is the young woman that his friend had spoken of all those months ago. No, he corrects, it’s been close to a year since the last time the two men had spoken. Two emotions war inside of him at once. Elation that this is the woman who had caught Mihawk's attention and pure green envy that the other man had found you first.

Shanks keeps his face clear of anything that might give him away and then knocks back his tea, placing it in the sink to be washed at a later time. You eye his sudden movements, and Shanks responds with an easy grin and a hand extended out to you. The pirate wouldn’t dare try and steal you away from his friend, but there was nothing wrong with the two of you getting to know one another in his eyes.

“Come meet my crew?” The redhead offers quietly. There is pressure in the air as if taking Shanks’ hand would open a new chapter in your life. You debate for a long time, looking up and catching his dark gaze. His eyes are like melted chocolate, so soft and inviting, and so much different from the only other man you know.

What would Mihawk think of you out there on the beach, mingling with a dangerous pirate crew? You knew who this man was and knew some of the rumors about him from Mihawk and Perona. But then you think, harder, and know that Dracule would never begrudge you having fun. He actively encouraged it whenever you became playful, though it was usually Perona that he would send after you.

You lick your lips and make a decision, reaching out to take Shanks’ hand.

“Okay. Just for a bit, though.”

Shanks grins like a hyena and wraps his fingers tight around your hand, “Sure thing, baby. Let’s go.”

The pirate captain tugs you out of your kitchen and then out of your home entirely, leading you down the path and to the beach so quickly that you don’t have the time to examine the new pet name or how it makes you feel. The redhead leads you to where his crew has already laid out cases of booze and food. Shanks grins at you and tugs you close, flurries exploding around the two of you when you fall into his side. He enjoys the wide-eyed look that you shoot him and then turns you towards his crew.

“Guys,” Shanks announces and winks, sending your cheeks up in flames, “this is,_, our host!”

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