#daisy x hunter

[moonmeg]

I made a 1am discovery

Same representative colors :)

Do with this information what you want

#toh #the owl house #huntlow #toh huntlow #hunter x willow #luigi nintendo #princess daisy #luigi x daisy ? #willow park #toh willow #toh hunter

[dirtplace-tunnel]

new ship idea: cinderpelt and daisy

#imimokenart #more old art lol #warrior cats #warriors #cinderpelt #daisy #cinderpelt x daisy #warriors by erin hunter

[the-daiz]

Hello. I was wondering if I could request killua x reader headcannons with a Norman (tpn) reader? I saw the armin one and I fell in love lol. You don’t have to 💙💙💙thank you

Killua being friends with a reader who's like Norman (from TPN)

Genre: fluff

Paring:, platonic! Killua x reader

Warning(s): -

hello! I'm glad you liked the last set of head canons I wrote, I greatly appreciate it. I hope you like this, and thank you!

side note: I’m alive!! Things have been hectic as of late haha! sorry for the long wait!

He's really impressed by you in all honesty.

And you sometimes scare him.

He mostly leaves the things that require thinking to you since you're the one with the high IQ.

At first glance, you looked weak to him, you didn't seem to have the body of someone who would or could fight, but you later proved him terribly wrong when you defeated someone ten times your size. He couldn't tell if you truly were strong or you simply knew your way around a fight due to your good strategic abilities.

However, when he finds you one day struggling to open a mere peanut butter jar, he concluded that you were weak in terms of physical abilities and were just too smart for your own good.

Either way, he makes a mental note never to get on your bad side, not like it's easy to anyway.

He’s not one for physical touch, but on those rare times where he does make contact with your skin, he finds himself shuddering at your cold skin which makes sense since you always complain about feeling cold. He teases you for it, and gave you the nickname “corpse” because of your icy nature.

He finds himself taking care of you a lot (At least, he tries to). You don’t fall sick often, but when you do, it’s quite a hassle, for both you and whoever has the misfortune of keeping an eye on you, which is Killua on most occasions.

Even a simple cold is tiring. You're often wrapped up in your blankets surrounded by clumps of used up tissue. It takes you longer than average to get better. You ask him to clean up the mess of your tissues and in response he makes a disgusted face and says "Ew! no! Imagine all the germs in there!". It doesn't matter anyway since you gaslight him into doing it anyway 🏃‍♀️

He’s somewhat jealous of your beauty and your pretty privilege. You’re frequently complemented for your looks and, he must admit, it does benefit him when you can get him whatever he wants with a simple bat of your eyes, so he doesn’t complain too much about the attention you receive. However, sometimes, said good looks attract unwanted older creeps who are quickly shooed away by Killua, by force if needed.

#daisy loves platonic love #fluff #L-F #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter fanfic #killua x reader #killua headcanons #killua hunter x hunter #platonic killua x reader #killua x reader platonic #killua x reader headcanons #killua hxh #killua bruv #so I absolutely flung my physics exam yesterday #Now I've learned to stidy every. single. worksheet i receive #good day yall #good day

[robocoplesb]

★ l WHO I WRITE FOR.

ROBOCOPLESB - REQUESTS I.

[ 🎸 ] ROCKSTARS.

— nikki sixx, tommy lee, vince neil, roger taylor, steven adler, dave grohl, kurt cobain, dave mustaine, joan jett, taylor momsen, victoria de angelis, kelly nickels, richie sambora, warren demartini, jan kuehnemund.

[ 🐺 ] FINN WOLFHARD CINEMATOGRAPHIC UNIVERSE.

— richie tozier, boris pavlikovsky, miles fairchild.

[ 🌼 ] DAISY JONES AND THE SIX.

— daisy jones, karen sirko, eddie roundtree/loving.

[ 🔪 ] SCREAM.

— billy loomis, stully (threesome).

[ 🦇 ] STRANGER THINGS.

— robin buckley, chrissy cunningham, steve harrington, eddie munson, steddie (threesome), billy hargrove.

[ 🔮 ] HARRY POTTER.

— harry potter, draco malfoy, ron weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, cedric diggory.

[ 💀 ] AMERICAN HORROR STORY.

— kai anderson, violet harmon.

[ 🎡 ] EUPHORIA.

— rue bennett, maddy perez, jules vaughn.

[ 🎬 ] ACTORS.

— hunter schafer, maya hawke, sophie thatcher, sophie nelisse, liv hewson, courtney eaton, pamela anderson.

[ ✈️ ] YELLOWJACKETS.

— natalie scatorccio, jackie taylor, shauna shipman, laura lee, lottie matthews, misty quigley, taissa turner, van palmer.

[ ⛓️ ] RESIDENT EVIL

— claire redfield.

#nikki sixx x reader #richie tozier x reader #daisy jones and the six #finn wolfhard #motley crue #billy loomis x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #harry potter #twice #bts #min yoongi #american horror story #euphoria #evan peters #axl rose x reader #hunter sylvester x reader #harry potter x reader #dave mustaine x reader #kai anderson #rue bennett #robin buckley x reader #five hargreeves #timothée chalamet #eddie roundtree x reader #roger taylor x reader #steven adler x reader #dave grohl x reader #kurt cobain x reader

[ioveskye]

Wonder| Leo Fitz x reader chapter 2

A/N: Heyy! finally the first chapter! let me know what you think <3

The ride to the S.H.I.E.L.D airbase was long and exhausting but for Y/n it was nothing but nerve-wracking. The last time she had a mission with S.H.I.E.L.D. it went horribly wrong, so she really hoped a repeat of last time would never happen again.

When she stepped out of the car she was immediately met with one of the biggest planes she's ever seen. Flying in smaller planes all her life probably changed her views on the plane even more now that she was in front of the big aircraft. After a few more moments of looking up, she saw another car approaching that stopped right beside hers. A tall man with raven black hair and a black suit walked out and she immediately recognized him as Agent Grant Ward. Coulson sent some background information that could be necessary about all the agents that would be on this team to the detective so she at least knew who she was working with.

"You must be Agent Ward," Y/n said as she approached the tall man.

Ward looked over at her and gave her what she thinks was a smile but she didn't quite catch it. It even looked like it annoyed him a little. "That's right, and you must be Y/n L/n? "

"That's me."

After the brief introduction, they both headed towards the plane that would become their home for the next few months.

As soon as she entered the plane voices of two arguing agents were heard. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, watch it! That's the Night-Night Gun." The curly headed man said, a Scottish accent filling Y/n’s ears.

The two new equated teammates looked at the pair of scientists that had been unloading when they arrived. Y/n observed the two for a bit, already knowing these were the two top-scientists of S.H.I.E.L.D in the past few years, agent Fitz and Simmons. Y/n may not have been an official agent but she knew enough from her past visits and cases.

Y/n crossed her arms in amusement and watched the pair, silently observing them before making herself known. To her surprise, Ward seemed to be doing the same thing.

"Well, it's on my stuff, and it doesn't work, and there's no way we're calling it the night-night gun." The brunette scientist replied, who Y/n knew to be Jemma Simmons.

The curly headed man, Leopold Fitz scoffed at her reply, not taking her comment lightly. "The bullets work. Nonlethal, heavy stopping power, Break up under the subcutaneous tissue–"

"Oh, with a dose of only .1 micro liters of dendrotoxin. I'm not Hermione, I can't create instant paralysis with that." Y/n laughed at her comment a little bit, the nerd in her coming up. Simmons grabbed a few bags and walked into the lab on the plane. "You should have run the specs by me before building the molds."

"The bullets are hollow! It's a marvel I can keep them from breaking apart in the chamber!" Fitz was getting agitated with his friend now, although Y/n wasn't sure if they were based on the bickering she was witnessing.

The pair seemed to not have noticed the two other people present with them in the cargo-hold. They kept up their bickering until Y/n saw Ward walk up to the two in the corner of her eyes, annoyance clear on his face. Right in front of the lab entrance, Ward dropped his large duffel bag on the ground- loud enough for Fitz-Simmons to hear them. The bag landed with a loud thud, and the two heads turned to him, the pair then quickly noticing Y/n behind him with a smirk on her face. Simmons seemed to be surprised while Fitz just carried an embarrassed look.

"Fitz-Simmons?" Ward questioned the two, the annoyance in his voice was just as present as in his facial expressions.

Y/n came to stand next to Ward again and pointed at the Scottish man in front of her, "That there is Doctor Fitz," Fitz gave the two a lopsided smile, putting up one hand to send them a small wave. Y/n smiled at him and then turned to the woman opposite him and then pointed at her, making sure Ward saw. "And this is Doctor Simmons."

"Hi, yea uhm." Fitz trailed off, his confidence dissipated a little when he looked from Y/n to Ward, the look he had was not welcoming. "I'm engineering and Simmons is Bio-chem."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/n L/n, you can just call me Y/n though. Did Agent Coulson tell you I'd be joining you?" the woman walked into the lab, shaking the hands of the two scientists, hoping to make a good impression.

"Oh yes! Fitz and I have been reading a lot about your cases, it's an honour, truly." Simmons shook her hand cheerfully. "And call me Jemma!"

"Thank you so much Jemma, I've read a lot about the two of you when Coulson send me it. You guys are incredible. Although I think I'm the only one who did the reading." Y/n cheekily looked up at Ward who was silently judging the pair.

"Coulson said I'd need my comm receiver encoded." Ward handed Fitz the receiver which he grabbed swiftly. "Don't know if you've worked with that model before. It's.." Ward was interrupted when a loud noise filled the room. Both Jemma and Y/n looked at where the noise came from and met Fitz's gaze who had apparently just smashed Ward's receiver. "Brand new.." The agent trailed off and Y/n’s eyes widened, finding the situation kind of hilarious.

"Right, I need to find Coulson. It was good to meet you all." Y/n walked out of the lab, catching Fitz's look who gave her a small smile. Jemma had already ran off to do some scientific stuff, much to Ward's dismay. She still heard the three bicker a little bit when she walked up the stairs of the Bus.

***

After a brief introduction with agent Coulson, who had explained her role on the team- that being the private detective for their missions- she received her bunk on the Bus. It was a little small but it was really cozy which she enjoyed a lot. The brunette had found a place for the handful of books she brought along, making the place feel a little more like home after. Now all she needed were some pictures and it'd be perfect, but being the chaotic woman she was, she forgot them.

Coulson had gathered the new-found team to a briefing after they all had the time to settle in. He explained that there had been a sighting of a new enhanced person, right in the middle of the streets in Los Angeles. The hacker group- The Rising Tide- had shown up again after this ordeal and Coulson's plan was to use them to get to him. The plan itself was simple but they had to get one of them on board to interrogate, and Y/n had to admit she was a bit skeptical but since she was just a consultant she had no place to speak. While Coulson and Ward would get the Rising Tide lead they found the rest of the team would inspect the site of the incident, the part where Y/n came in.

Agent Melinda May was behind the wheel, driving the four to the broken apartment building in LA. Jemma had been sitting next to the Asian female, chatting away while May did her best ignoring her. Y/n smiled at the interaction between the two, finding the contrast quite funny. Fitz caught her look and smiled a bit, nudging her. The detective looked at the man beside her and smiled.

"So, I know we only met for a moment today, but I just wanted to say I'm glad Coulson got you on the team."

"Thank you, Fitz. I appreciate it." Her smile got a bit wider when he had complimented her, not many people showed appreciation to her besides her work so she appreciated it a lot.

"Have you ever worked with Shield before?" Fitz asked, hoping to continue the conversation before they arrived.

Y/n’s smile dropped for a moment and she avoided the mans eyes next to her, fumbling with a lose thread on her shirt for a bit.

"Yeah, once or twice." She said and finally looked back into his eyes. When she saw him already looking at her with a soft smile she couldn't help but smile back. "Coulson and I worked together before so since he was in charge of this team he asked for me."

"That is so cool. Going in the field and all." Y/n noticed how his left leg had started moving up and down out of nervousness. "I mean, the field is not always dangerous of course.." He trailed off as he finished his sentence.

Y/n put a hand on his leg, stopping it from bouncing up and down. Fitz looked at her in shock because of the sudden touch which caused her to let out a small giggle.

"Calm down, Fitz. Agent May is there with us, we'll be fine-." May's eyes looked directly at the woman in the rear view mirror after she had mentioned the agent. The look in her eyes caused her heart to sank. She forgot that Fitz-Simmons didn't know about her situation and quickly shut up.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh look! We're here!" Jemma exclaimed.

May drove straight into the street where the accident had happened. Y/n was secretly glad they had arrived before she had to talk about what she almost spilled. And if she had to tell them how she knew- that would be even a longer story to tell. And she wasn’t ready for that.

#agents of shield #aos #leofitz #leo fitz #leo fitz x reader #daisy johnson #daisy johnson x reader #jemma simmons #jemma simmons x reader #phil coulson #phil coulson x reader #melinda may #melinda may x reader #mcu x reader #marvel #grant ward #grant ward x reader #lance hunter #lance hunter x reader #bobbi morse #bobbi morse x reader

[bluefury5]

Can you do daisy x squrrielflight hypokits?

This is Lilystorm!

Lilystorm's name was partially inspired by her mother, and later on Squirrelstar gave her daughter the 'storm' suffix based on her fierce nature. She very closely resembles Daisy but has Squirrelflight's temperament, being very outgoing and spunky. Lilystorm is a demigirl, using she/they/it pronouns.

Just before Vision of Shadows, Squirrelflight announced her divorce with Brambleclaw, and that's when she and Daisy became mates. Later on, Daisy became pregnant with kits (not Squirrelflight because she is infertile, that wasn't a lie). Later on, Lilystorm, Aldertwig, and Sparkflame were born!

Lilystorm grew up kind of lost in ThunderClan, as she and their siblings were often compared to Firestar. Lilystorm didn't look much like her famed ancestor and felt left out, leading to her running away and joining the Kin.

Lilystorm had a rough time in the kin, as many of its members didn't trust her because she was a ThunderClan cat and she didn't make sense. After she fought in several battles, gaining scars and 'proving her loyalty,' she was accepted in.

I don't want to make the lore a whole book, so I'm shortening it now :') Lilystorm realizes hey the kin is bad, wth was I thinking, and manages to escape. She tells ThunderClan of their cruelty and comes up with a plan with her brother Aldertwig and Twigpaw. The plan works, Darktail is defeated, and she earns her warrior name from her mother. Lilystorm remains in ThunderClan from then on, and becomes deputy at some point.

@fernstarblog done!

#bluefurytheravenclaw #cats #erin hunter warriors #warrior cats #warriors #meow #erin hunter #hypokits #squirrelflight x daisy #ships #thunderclan #lilystorm #hypokit

[lilsciencequeen]

drifting apart like two sheets of ice (my love) frozen hearts growing colder with time

“Daisy,” Fitz began, his tone dropping from confusion to concern. “What is going in here?” “It was…” Daisy took his arm gently and started to guide him through the hospital corridor. “It was an ice rescue and things took a turn for the worse.” She paused for a moment, her voice breaking. “It’s not good Fitz.”

Or: A FitzSimmons 9-1-1: Lonestar AU

read below or AO3

They should have known something was wrong long before it revealed itself. Looking back on everything, it seemed obvious now.

That was hindsight for you. 

But at the time, it wasn’t something they had considered or had even thought about.

The job at hand had been what was important. 

Saving the kid was what had been necessary but they weren’t prepared for it.

Snow storms like this weren't all that common in Texas, so when they arrived at the scene it was no surprise they didn’t have any of the right equipment. But the kid needed saving and they were going to do it. One way or another.

A couple had seen the young girl, only moments ago, fall through the ice. They didn’t know who she was. Just that she had been playing hockey on the frozen lake one moment then the next, she was gone, the ice having cracked underneath her.

Really, it was a coincidence that they had been in the right place at the right time.

For everyone involved. 

The elderly couple who had called it in was sitting in the back of the ambulance, in shock. What they had witnessed was horrific, it was something that nobody should ever have to see.

There was very little time to debate, each minute passing by was one less minute they had to save the kid.

In the end, it had been Jemma’s idea to do it that way. Using the equipment they had. 

It was a stupid idea.

It was a risky idea.

It was the only idea that they had.

Bobbi found herself unable to breathe as she stood watching Jemma make her way slowly across the ice. Inching forward bit by bit on her stomach towards where the kid had fallen in.

Where the ice had frozen over again.

She didn't even have a pick to smash the ice. Just a scalpel.

It was the best they could do in the situation, they were even using bedsheets as a line. With the weather throwing everything it had at them, both Trip and Bobbi found it difficult to keep their footing. But they had to.

For Jemma.

If something went wrong, then they would be her only hope.

But at the moment, a ll they could do hope was that the ice that had refroze wasn't as thick - that it could be broken with nothing more than a small piece of metal.

"C'mon," Bobbi whispered, her words lost to the wind that was starting to whip up. "C'mon Simmons."

She was now nearly at the point of entry, calling back something to them but it was no use they couldn't hear what she was saying. The wind had whipped her words away. They could see her hitting the ice, trying to break through.

And it was at that moment the ice cracked and she went under, the sudden tug on the bedsheets almost pulling Bobbi over. 

The two of them just stared in shock at each other, unsure of what to do next.

It was Trip who made the first move, shouting out Jemma’s name. Behind him, Bobbi could hear the elderly woman from earlier once again on the phone to 9-1-1 calling for backup, calling for more help. This was a bad situation.

This was a very bad situation.

They could both feel tugging on the line, a weight pulling against it as Jemma fought to save herself. To save the kid.

And they were all helpless unable to do anything.

It felt like hours but then the surface broke. Somehow, against all odds, Jemma had somehow saved the kid.

Throwing all caution to the wind, Trip took a step forward toward the lake but then hesitated.

“Don’t!” Jemma shouted. “It’s too dangerous. Pull us in.” With some difficulty, she managed to get the two of them back up onto the ice, lying flat. Even from this distance, they could tell that she was exhausted, her chest heaving. It was clear that going under had taken what energy she had from her. The cold robbed her of it.

With the utmost care and caution, they managed to pull the two of them to safety and Bobbi lifted the kid (somehow thankfully alive), taking her to the other crew that was pulling up by this point, the elderly couple retreating to a safe distance so they would not get in the way of anything or anyone.

Trip’s attention meanwhile was focused on Jemma. He offered her a helping hand, allowing her to stand and free herself. Shrugging off his jacket, not carrying about how cold it was getting, he wrapped it around her shoulders in an attempt to try and warm her up.

“Thank you.” Her voice was low, her hair hanging damp around her face. She was drenched in the ice water but her lips tugged up into a small smile. In the distance, she could see the kid, crying out for her mum before the doors slammed closed. A good sign. Trip wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in close as they watched the other ambulance drive away.

A soft laugh escaped from Trip as he helped to guide her away from the ice. “Just don’t tell Lance what we let you do today. Your brother would kill us if we knew what had happened.” 

But she wasn’t paying attention anymore to what he was saying to her, and even when Bobbi came back and joined them, she kept her distance. Everything that had just happened, it seemed to hit her all at once. 

She was exhausted. Her focus was a million miles away at this point and everything seemed to be slower, less in focus. It was hard to concentrate and with what her teammates were saying… well it was best to stay back when she couldn’t understand.

And she was cold. She was so very very cold.

***

“Where’s Jemma?” Bobbi squinted as she looked around. Snow was falling heavier now, and the temperature was dropping rapidly.

Trip felt his heart skip a beat. Because this was bad. This was very very bad. “We need to find her.”

Following the footprints in the ground, they tried to find where she had wandered off to. Bobbi was silently cursing herself for this, they should have noticed it earlier. She was meeting all the classic symptoms of hypothermia.

Shivering.

Confusion.

Exhaustion.

And the longer they waited to get her help, to get her medical attention, then the less chance that she had of surviving this.

It must have been less than ten minutes later that they found her, curled up on the ground. Her uniform had been stripped off and abandoned and she was lying there freezing in nothing but a vest and a pair of shorts. Her lips had a tinge of blue to them.

Paradoxical undressing.

Her blood was rushing to her extremities, causing her to overheat.

It also meant that she was moments away from death.

“Jemma,” Trip said, keeping his voice calm. “What happened?” Firm but gentle for he didn’t want to spook her. He needed to be careful, to get her to trust him so that he could get her to safety.

The next moments would prove crucial.

Would be the difference between life and death.

Hearing Bobbi on the phone, calling it in only feet behind him, he knelt on the ground in front of her. Reaching over, he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She looked over at him but her eyes were glazed over.

"Jemma?"

There was no response from her. Nothing at all.

She honestly had no idea where she was.

He didn’t even know if she knew who she was.

“We need to get her to the hospital now,” Bobbi said and Trip was not going to argue with her.

***

“Where’s Jemma?” he asked as he came round the corner into the small waiting area of the hospital. “You said she wanted me?”

Bobbi cast a nervous glance at Daisy who was shaking her head and was on her feet to meet Fitz. “I… It wasn’t Jemma that wanted you here Fitz, it was… it was me.”

Fitz stared at Daisy, unable to believe her. “What do you mean Jemma never asked you to call me? Have you not tried to meddle in our relationship enough?”

It took several moments for Daisy to find the words to describe this situation. It was hard. Because she knew-everyone knew- that Jemma and Fitz had broken up 3 months ago now, that the whole situation had been somewhat messy. But what they didn’t know was the why .

Why had the two of them ended a relationship everyone could have sworn would have lasted forever was something that nobody had worked out yet.

One day things had been fine, then the next Jemma had moved out of Fitz’s apartment and back into Hunter’s house and refused to even speak about him. 

She refused to talk to anyone about what had happened, something that was worrying most of the team. She seemed to have it together but Hunter had doubts. He had tried to ask his younger sister what was going on, what had happened during that period but Jemma refused to tell him.

“Something happened today when we were out on a call,” Daisy began but there was no chance to finish. 

“I’m sorry to interpret but are you the paramedics that helped to save my daughter?” It was a small voice, somewhat shaken.

In perfect sync, Daisy and Fitz turned to face the woman and it took a moment for Daisy to work out who it was.

“That… that wasn’t me. Not really. That was Jemma who saved her. I wasn’t there.” There was something in Daisy’s tone that Fitz couldn't pinpoint. Something he didn't like and it made him uncomfortable. 

The woman nodded and reached out to take Daisy’s hands in her own in a kind and reassuring way. “Tell your friend that I said thank you. Thank you for saving my daughter.”

“Is she? Is she going to be okay?” Daisy was scared to ask the question but the woman nodded.

“She is. And I just wanted to let you know that I and my husband are all praying for your friend.”

“Thank you,” Daisy told the mother, who gave Daisy’s hands a reassuring squeeze. And with that, the mother turned to head back to her daughter’s room.

“Daisy,” Fitz began, his tone dropping from confusion to concern. “What is going in here?”

“It was…” Daisy took his arm gently and started to guide him through the hospital corridor. “It was an ice rescue and things took a turn for the worse.” She paused for a moment, her voice breaking. “It’s not good Fitz.”

It took a moment for him to process what was happening but then he realized what was going on and why Daisy had told him that he needed to come here.

That something had gone wrong today.

Something had gone awfully wrong.

Then he saw her.

Jemma.

Lying there in a hospital bed, tubes and wires coming out of her.

#fitzsimmons #leo fitz #jemma simmons #daisy johnson #lance hunter #bobbi morse #antoine triplett #fitzsimmons fanfic #fitzsimmons fanfiction #agents of shield fanfic #marvels agents of shield #leo fitz x jemma simmons #fanfiction #agents of shield #aos #aos fanfic

[ink-the-axolotl-rabbit]

Glad I found this while looking at peppino x anton

#peppino x anton #peppino x gustavo #noisette x vigilante #the noise x noisette #miku x rin #sam x max #kaito x meiko #bowugi #mario x peach #huntlow #hunter x therapy #sans x grillby #sans x toriel #william Afton x toast #mr stick x money #sonamy #sonally #len x IA #rosalina x daisy #daisy x luigi #daisy x peach #Me x chocolate milk

[skyler10fic]

To Have and to Hold: Ch. 3 Taste of Success

By Skyler10

Read on Ao3

---------------

Daisy had a slow week at work and was able to launch a simple wedding website by the following weekend. One page included their story, ending with their coincidentally mutual Christmas proposal. She uploaded photos of the two of them at various stages of their relationship and one of their rings. Daisy remembered with a start that they hadn’t taken engagement photos. Oh well, that shoot could come later even if they just had a friend take a few on a nice day. On the location page, she added a few photos of the chapel she had taken on their visit and typed its address. The registry page would have to stay blank for the moment. Eventually, she’d make a digital RSVP option as well, but before they could decide on and send invitations, they needed to decide on a caterer to know if there was a meal option—and whether they wanted a meal at all or just hors d’oeuvres. 

There were still so many decisions to make. Late one night as she stressed about their long to-do list, Carol reminded her that not every conversation they had at the end of the day had to be wedding choices and researching their options. They needed to also just relax together and talk about other things. Carol had said it gently, trying to avoid a fight, but Daisy surprised her by being relieved at the reminder. They had time. Not much for some things, but enough to still live their lives outside of planning and decision-making.  

They decided to keep the wedding itself small, and the wedding party even smaller. Carol’s lifelong best friend, Maria, would be her bridesmaid with her young daughter, Monica, as flower girl. Daisy’s bridesmaid would be Jemma, with her husband, Fitz, on piano and Elena on violin playing, “She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert.

“But just the two instruments,” Daisy clarified. “No karaoke track cheese, please.” Which Fitz teased her relentlessly about, especially saying that he was going to program a drum kit. Daisy reminded him she had earned her black belt before graduating high school, and that put an end to the teasing… for a while. 

The question of who would walk them down the aisle came up during a video call with Daisy’s parents, during which Phil offered both arms if they wanted to walk down together, but Carol reassured him that her Aunt Wendy would do it. Melinda would walk down first, escorting her parents to their seats, then Wendy and Carol, and then Phil and Daisy. 

Elena’s husband, Mack, was ordained as a minister in their small, progressive church, so he volunteered to officiate. And Elena would help their adorable toddler son, Alfie Jr., in his ringbearer duties. 

That left the people they would need to hire, including catering for the reception, a bakery for the cake, and a photographer. 

—----------

The second Saturday in March, they had a cake tasting at a small but renowned bakery across town. Daisy shoved her laptop into her bag as Carol pulled the car into the bakery’s parking lot.

“Okay, we only have one shot if this is the one we go with, so we have to each pick our top three possibilities, not just what sounds good today,” Daisy said like she was a coach at timeout. 

They got out of the car and walked up to the bakery, but before they went inside, Carol pulled Daisy to the side of the door.

“Hey, let’s enjoy this okay?” She took Daisy’s hand. “It’s a cake tasting! Possibly the most fun part of wedding planning. Just breathe with me, okay?”

Daisy took in deep breaths, as instructed. “Right. You’re right. It’s just cake.” She turned and saw a sample wedding cake in the window with two grooms. “Oh thank god.” 

Carol noticed too. “Is that what you were really stressed about?” 

“Well!” Daisy shrugged. “It’s been in the news for years with the courts and stuff, I just, I don’t know, didn’t want to get yelled at when they realize I’m not your bridesmaid or something.” 

Carol squeezed Daisy’s hand. “I promise. I made sure every bakery I called knew this wedding cake is going to have two little brides on it and they were fine.” She gestured to the two-groom cake on display. “Can we go try sample bites of cake now?” 

“Yes, please,” Daisy said in a bashful voice. Carol opened the door and they went in, determined to enjoy the moment. 

And they did, for the most part. A few of the flavors were not to their taste.

“Hm.” Daisy scrunched her nose. “Not that one, sorry.”

Carol’s eyes widened as she put a different flavor in her mouth. “Ooo! This one.” She pointed with her fork and then had a different idea. “Here.” She put a bite on her fork and lifted it to feed it to Daisy. Daisy helped guide Carol’s hand so they didn’t make a mess. 

“Oh! Wow. Yes.” Daisy reacted once she’d had a moment to taste it. “That might be the one?” 

Carol gave her an “I told you so” look. “I think I could eat that every day and not get tired of it.”   

The baker, a middle-aged man with twinkling dark eyes, returned just in time to see their impressed reaction. He clapped his hands once and inquired, “How are we doing over here, ladies? Have we found a winner?” 

Carol and Daisy exchanged glances and both said, “Yes” at once. 

“What is this one?” Daisy asked. 

“Ah, that flavor is called Happy Ever After. It’s a vanilla with a hint of raspberry and almond and my secret ingredient.” 

Carol took this as a challenge. She leaned her elbows on the counter and narrowed her eyes. “Hmm, butter?”  

The baker laughed and winked. “That’s no secret. Plenty of real butter here. And our traditional recipe buttercream, also with a special ingredient, of course.” 

Carol couldn’t tell whether there really was a secret to the buttercream or if he was just teasing her, so she just nodded. “Ah. Of course.”

“Now.” The baker plopped a heavy photo album on the counter. “Let’s talk design.” 

None of the designs were exactly what Daisy had been picturing so she showed him some photos on her laptop, and he flipped to a different section. In 20 minutes, they had exactly what they wanted all planned out. The baker took notes on each part, from flavor to decoration to a topper. As it turned out, the little brides cake topper would be metaphorical, as they decided on a cascade of flowers wrapping from the top down around the sides of the three small tiers and to the base. 

“And what are your colors?” the baker asked, writing and sketching on his notes. When they hesitated, he looked up. 

Daisy blurted out, “Lavender, silver, navy, and gold.” She looked to Carol for approval. 

“Yeah!” Carol blinked in awe at how easy that was. “That was the palette I picked, though. Are you sure?”  

The baker turned his sketch around so they could imagine the colors on it. 

“I’m sure.” Daisy placed her hand on Carol’s on the counter to assure her it really was what she wanted too. “It’s us.” 

“Excellent,” the baker hummed, more to his notes than to them, lost in his artistic visions. 

And so that was two decisions down, with a million more to go. 

As Daisy and Carol left the bakery, Daisy’s phone rang. 

“Hey, is this Daisy Coulson?” a young woman’s voice asked. 

“That’s me,” Daisy answered as she got in the car and closed the door. “How can I help you?” 

Carol waited to start the car until Daisy could tell her what was happening. Daisy noticed and put the call on speaker.  

“This is Nadia, from Delights Catering. I know this is super last minute, and I told you before that we didn’t have any tasting spots open today, but, um, we’ve had an opening.” 

Daisy picked up on her stress. “Rough day?” 

Nadia admitted, “Not as rough for me as for the couple whose whole wedding party got the flu last night and just now called to cancel. But their order of nearly everything on the menu is almost done, and it might as well be used. We’ll have everything ready if you can be here in the next half hour. And bring family or your wedding party if you want. We’re prepped for 100 over here. And I’ve only got five other couples left on my list to call.” 

Daisy raised her eyebrows in silent question to Carol who nodded enthusiastically. It was past lunchtime and they were getting hungry. Those little cake samples hadn’t been filling. 

“Sure thing, Nadia. We’ll be right over.” Daisy programmed the address of the convention center the catering company operated out of into Carol’s phone and used her own to send a group text to the wedding party, at least their friends in town. Phil and Melinda were too far away, but she sent them a separate text updating them on the cake and colors decision and telling them they were headed over to the caterer. 

Melinda sent back a thumbs up, a sunglasses smiley face, and a cake emoji. Phil sent a gif that said Great Work! and said to let them know how the menu tasting went. 

Carol neared the exit and realized they hadn’t ever decided on what time of day the wedding would be exactly, which would determine what food they decided on from Delights Catering’s menu. 

“We have the venue all day,” Carol reasoned, “so it would be up to us.” 

“What if…” Daisy hesitated to say it, as unromantic as it was. “What if we see what Nadia has on the menu and pricing, and that determines the timing?” 

“Okay, besides food though, when are you picturing this? Evening ceremony with dinner and a reception where we dance into the night? Or more like early afternoon so we can see the park around the chapel with an outdoor reception? I could go either way.” 

“Before I answer that, here’s another factor.” Daisy paused to point to the side street Carol needed to turn down. “Do we want to leave for our honeymoon that night or spend our wedding night at home and then leave the next day? And also, where are we going?” 

“Or, we could stay downtown in a fancy hotel honeymoon suite, so we wouldn’t be far from the airport, and then leave the next day. To wherever.” 

“Yes! Oh. I like that.” Daisy added “find honeymoon suite and destination” to her to-do list. 

Nadia’s cooking and her team’s friendly service didn’t make the decision easy. The basic dinner menu, especially for a small wedding with their approximate guest list number, was definitively in their budget, and the hors d’oeuvres were also delicious. 

“Okay, this lemon pepper chicken, though,” Daisy said to the table, but mostly Carol. 

“And this pasta is amazing.” Carol picked up the menu to see what it was called. “Pasta Barbara.” 

A blonde woman at the table observed them with an amused smile. 

Daisy noticed and caught her eye. “Is it that obvious we are new to this?” 

“No, no,” the woman assured. “It’s just a new menu item inspired by an idea I had. I’m Barbara. Or, well, everyone calls me Bobbi.” 

Carol and Daisy introduced themselves as well. 

The man next to Bobbi spoke up with an English accent. “And you can call me Hunter.”

Carol finished her pasta and put down her fork. “Are you two getting married soon?” 

Bobbi and Hunter laughed. Bobbi explained, “We’ve been married.”

“And divorced,” Hunter added. 

“And married again,” Bobbi concluded. “Now we do the wedding thing professionally. We’re photographers, and I got in the decorating and floral business so I could have more input on the backgrounds and settings for the photos. The photos are what hold your memories of your day for generations to come, so I take it pretty seriously.” 

“And I carry all the equipment.” Hunter smirked. 

Bobbi rolled her eyes. “And he shoots the video. We’re a team. And are you two here to plan a wedding or just friends of Nadia’s called in to help with leftovers?”

Carol slipped an arm loosely around Daisy’s shoulder as Daisy replied, “Planning our wedding. But it’s coming up pretty quick, so we have a lot of decisions to make.” 

Carol looked to Daisy and then back at Bobbi. “We’re actually looking for everything you said you did. We’ve got this great wedding chapel through the parks department on a pond, so it’s a great setting, but the chapel itself is bare bones plain inside.” 

“And the reception hall is just a big empty room, basically,” Daisy explained.

“So,” Bobbi jumped in. “You need a photographer who could do outdoor shots in the park and indoor, and you need a decorator and florist who could handle a small wedding on a budget?” 

Hunter relaxed back in his chair, looking even cockier as Bobbi read their situation exactly. Daisy could tell that though he hid it behind bravado, he was smitten with his wife and partner. 

“Yeah, that’s it exactly.” Daisy blinked in surprise at fate landing them at this table with the very people they needed to meet. “You can do all that?” 

Hunter raised his glass to her. “That’s our specialty.” 

“Well, I contract out with florists, but I’d handle all the details.” Bobbi searched in her purse and pulled something small out. “Here’s our card.” 

She handed over a business card with their logo, website, phone, and email address. 

“Take a look, rates are all online, and we can work something out,” Hunter said.

“Thank you,” Carol replied. “This is a huge help.” 

Bobbi shrugged. “It’s why we’re here. Nadia helps us and we help her. The wedding business can be pretty cutthroat, all about the right connections, so we formed our little alliance with those we like to work with. She gets the job done right every time, and we get better photos when everyone is fed and happy.” 

Daisy hadn’t considered this, but it was smart. Bobbi’s dedication to her craft to the point that she’d expanded into other areas, formed networks, and knew something about people impressed Daisy before she’d even seen a single photo. And Daisy suspected, if Bobbi had chosen Hunter not only as her husband but business partner, he must be good at his part as well to earn that smug look on his face as he glanced around the room searching for more couples to introduce themselves to. 

Nadia made her way over to their table. “How are we doing, Daisy and Carol? I see you’ve met my friends, Bobbi and Hunter?”

“They were just telling us about their business,” Carol informed her. “Also, I have to tell you, I love this pasta.” 

“And the chicken,” Daisy reminded her. “We have to have the chicken.” 

Nadia got out her notepad. “Okay, so that’s a dinner menu then, we’ve decided?” 

Bobbi spoke up. “Definitely do dinner. Hors d’oeuvres are great, but—no offense, Nadia—it’s easy for people to get skipped over or miss out on their favorites, or they feel like they are chasing plates around if you have wandering waiters.” 

Hunter added, “And if you do a buffet, people wonder why not just do the real food.”

Nadia said, “It’s up to you two, though, and time of day I know was still a question.” 

Daisy and Carol decided together silently, and Carol said aloud, “Dinner, for sure.” 

Nadia wrote down their picks from the menu and promised to follow up on Monday more formally. She called to one of her assistants, who brought them to-go bags of leftovers to take home. It was far too much food for the two of them, so they texted Jemma and Fitz to come over for dinner that night. 

—-------- 

After dinner that night, the four friends moved to the living room and settled in front of the TV after dinner. Daisy sat on the couch near the end table with her laptop and started it up. 

“Mmm wow,” Jemma groaned, “that pasta was so good but now I’m so full.” Fitz patted her hand as he settled in next to her on the couch. 

“Right?” Carol agreed as she set up the TV so Daisy could cast her laptop screen to it. Carol plopped into their Papasan chair and set a pillow on her lap so she could write their impressions of Bobbi and Hunter’s skills on her tablet.

“Ready!” Daisy said, navigating to Bobbi and Hunter’s website. She clicked on their wedding portfolio first and opened just one slideshow of many demonstrating their talents. “Ooo, I like that one.” 

Carol took note of the poses and ideas they oohed and ahhed over, as well as ones she or Daisy didn’t like or Jemma and Fitz warned against from experience just a year before. 

Daisy clicked on more slideshows—some with more creative shots and some more cliche—and they continued until they got to one with outdoor photos, including some at sunset, with two brides. 

“Ohhh,” Daisy exhaled as she paused on one. The sunbeams highlighting the couple’s silhouette were perfect. The couple touched foreheads, with one’s fingers entwined and loosely resting on the back of the other’s neck, and the other’s hands at her bride’s waist.

“Gorgeous,” Jemma said softly. 

Daisy looked over to Carol with hope shining in her eyes. They had to have one like this. 

“Already got it,” Carol confirmed. She squinted in thought. “Sun sets around 8 in June, so if we want it as a wedding shot, we would have to time it right.” 

Jemma reasoned, “Or, remember, we did wedding photos in advance. We didn’t want to have to worry about it the day of, and I didn’t mind if he saw me in the dress ahead of time.”

“I said it was bad luck.” Fitz shrugged. 

Daisy made a pshh sound. “The rain was a sign of good luck. Plus you’re both British, aren’t rainy wedding days sort of the standard where you’re from?” 

“Yes, but see, we live here now,” Fitz pointed out.

Jemma took his hand. “Rain the day of is all the more reason I’m glad we did them in advance.” 

Carol was still distracted by the photo on the TV. If she had a shot of Daisy and her like that, she’d have a print done for their bedroom. She could already picture where to put it on their wall. 

“Moving on,” Daisy announced. “Yes, we’ll try to get some shots with Bobbi and Hunter scheduled in advance.” She added that to her to-do list, which seemed to grow every time she took something off of it. 

Jemma pointed to the screen. “So it sounds like you’re decided then. You’ve got a photographer. And all the other things, yeah?”

Daisy worried her lip. It was a multipoint commitment—and not a cheap one. She caught Carol’s hopeful, subtle nod from across the room. They were doing this. 

“Yeah,” Daisy confirmed as she clicked through to the florals and decorations pages. She had to admit, Bobbi was good. “We’re doing this.” 

Jemma elbowed Fitz, who let out a little “ow!” of surprise. 

“Tell them,” she insisted. 

“Oh, alright,” Fitz sighed. “My cousin Deke is a deejay who does wedding receptions. If you’re looking for someone.” 

Jemma jumped in. “He was the one who deejayed ours, as you might remember, but he’s very popular. He’s probably done 100 since he started a few years ago.” 

Fitz added with a tone of derision, “He wants it to be his full-time job, and he dropped out of NYU to ‘build his business.’” He did air quotes around the last part. 

“Very successfully!” Jemma defended. “Fitz is just jealous. Deke sold his virtual reality simulator to a video game company so he doesn’t really need the work, but Fitz thinks he’s wasting his potential.” 

Fitz rubbed at his neck. “He’s also very … perky.”

Jemma translated, “He’s American and a bit enthusiastic, even for over here. But exactly who you’d want in a deejay.”

Daisy and Carol exchanged amused glances. Carol spoke up, “Sure, send us his contact info and we’ll get in touch.” 

Having a baker, a caterer, a menu, and leads on a photographer/decorator and now a deejay was a lot for a full day, but it also helped them feel like it was really happening. Their wedding was not just a dream but a real event they were hiring vendors for and making decisions about—decisions that would become their lifelong memories.  

#daisy johnson #carol danvers #aos #agents of shield #captain marvel #daisy x carol #carol x daisy #wlw #sapphic fic #femslash #lesbian carol danvers #bisexual daisy johnson #skywriting #wedding au #jemma simmons #leo fitz #fitzsimmons #bobbi morse #lance hunter

[bruhmityblight]

TGIRL SWAG BRACKET

Hii i made a tgirl swag bracket! Meant to be charecters that are mainly non canonically transfem but have been heavily headcanoned as such by transfems. Here is the bracket! 

All of the first polls will be live soon! I think ill make them a week long just cause i dont know if it will reach enough ppl in time for the results to be accurate, I may change it for the next rounds. Also, If i missed people and I get a much of requests I can make a second side to the bracket! 

#tgirl swag poll #tgirl swag #hunter noceda #anne boonchuy #kitty softpaws #futaba sakura #alluka zoldyck #link #legend of zelda #transfem link #Yor Forger #spy x family #power chainsaw man #owl house #marco diaz #lily hoshikawa #Turkey dorohedoro #eileen regular show #amity blight #daisy duck #gwen stacy #dragona joestar

[wellsygrahams-a]

☼ ⋯ ⤳ brotp tags

#tag dump. #☼ ⋯ ⤳ overture #☼ ⋯ ⤳ hyorin x arabella (kang sisters) #☼ ⋯ ⤳ azriel x gabriel x castiel (gwon brothers) #☼ ⋯ ⤳ ayla x gael (gwon twins) #☼ ⋯ ⤳ seok x dani (gwon siblings) #☼ ⋯ ⤳ jihyo x taeyang (lee siblings) #☼ ⋯ ⤳ gwon family #☼ ⋯ ⤳ nora x neil (kang-müller siblings) #☼ ⋯ ⤳ nora x esmeralda #☼ ⋯ ⤳ kurt x neil #☼ ⋯ ⤳ meiqi x jiung #☼ ⋯ ⤳ hunter x zeke #☼ ⋯ ⤳ thompson family #☼ ⋯ ⤳ daisy x miguel #☼ ⋯ ⤳ angus x niran #☼ ⋯ ⤳ kaia x nari #☼ ⋯ ⤳ ziggy x junseo #☼ ⋯ ⤳ kendrick x hyacinth #☼ ⋯ ⤳ mali x emilia

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Daisy chains

Gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Daryl gets separated after the prison attack. He comes across a home for him and his kid to hole up in. Your home.

Daryl was running.

Running from walkers, from anything or anyone that could hear them.

Him and his daughter.

His selfish act of hiding a personal stash of formula and other necessary items to care for his toddler who fussed against his chest as he made his way through the area. She slowly starting to pick up volume as the fussing became full on crying and he had to start running to keep away from the dead she unknowingly lured.

"Shh, please. Yer wakin' the dead with yer cryin'." His hand held the back of her head and rubbed soothing circles on her skin, jogging to keep a rocking motion going as he moved on.

In his frantic search he spotted a house at the edge of the forest and decided it was the best option they had.

Circling the home he found the back door unlocked and locked it behind him, barricading it to the best of his ability.

Click.

The unmistakable sound of a gun right behind his head made him stop dead in his tracks, carefully raising his hands and thus letting go of his daughter's head.

Fhe loss of contact had her starting to sniffle and cry again and all Daryl could do was slowly turn around to reveal the two of them.

"Was runnin' from walkers." One of Daryl's hands lowered back to stroke his child's head while keeping the other one up. "She'd been cryin', drew 'em in."

You lowered your gun and clicked the safety back on. "You can feed her here." You weren't happy with other people being in your home, but sending away someone with such a young child wasn't okay in your books. "What can you provide in return?" You walked back into the hall and waved for him to follow. In the kitchen you showed him your stash and handed him a jar for his kid. "You can have this if you can promise me to provide."

Daryl agreed immediately. He knew he could hunt as soon as he figured out if he could trust you with his kid. Most people would kill him and her for being a liability. A redneck and a toddler weren't high on the list of saught after party members.

"After she eats, lay down with her. You two clearly went through hell." You kept a close eye on them for the remainder of the day, needing to know if the man was planning anything besides hiding but up til sundown he still hadn't shown any signs of hostility.

You watched as he put her to sleep and sat back down to rest. "You never introduced yourselves. What do I call you?" You leaned forward so you could speak quietly as to not wake the sleeping toddler.

"M'Daryl. Lil' one's Daisy." You exchanged introductions and both felt okay enough around each other to sleep.

Daryl stuck around inside the house for two days, watching you like a hawk whenever you interacted with Daisy.

"Hey." He found you on the couch with Daisy asleep next to you after having eaten. "Ya good to watch 'er while I hunt? Try'na be back before dark."

If anyone watched the scene from afar they'd assume the two were a couple.

You were surprisingly comfortable with having others around these days, and Daryl was beyond happy he found someone to help with Daisy. He was happy to hunt for you, he was good at it and he'd be proving his worth.

Daryl kept his word and came back before dark with a small deer and to say you were excited was an understatement. You were probably the world's worst hunter so seeing Daryl come back with a week's worth of meat was a huge turn on.

Or maybe you were just deprived. Daryl didn't seem like someone who'd let you jump his bones for any and all reason so you just had to ignore the feelings for as long as needed.

Ignoring lasted for two weeks.

The three of you were living together so comfortably. You brought back way more than needed on your runs and Daryl made sure the area was secure and you always had meat for somewhat balanced meals.

As time passed Daryl started to get the need to find his old group. See if there were survivors he could reunite with but he didn't know how to ask you for a portion of your supplies. You had already been so kind to let him stay and offer the two of them so much. He also felt weird about leaving you here. Separating Daisy from someone she clearly bonded with hurt him too.

Any idea of leaving just felt wrong, unless you'd all leave.

You started to notice him being distant, fidgety all the time so you sat down with him one evening.

"What's eating you, Daryl?"

He glanced up from cleaning his knives only to grumble at you, not answering at all.

"Come on. It's clear you've got something on your mind. Tell me, please?"

With a huff he put his items away and slumped back against the couch. "S'mah group. Gotta find 'em. Dun wanna leave ya alone."

"I'll come." It was an easy decision, really. You helped watching Daisy and he knew the woods well enough to travel through them. "I've got no one, you got them. It'd be good for us all if we found your friends."

Daryl nodded, happy you were on one line and offered to plan their leave, take a few days to prepare and rest up before starting their trek.

Daryl had lived in that house for three only weeks, but still it felt weird to leave it behind. He carried Daisy against his chest and his crossbow slung over his shoulder.

You had food, medication and sleeping supplies strapped to your bag, Daisy's items being in Daryl's luggage. You learned more about Daryl now and also learned from him.

He was an expert huntsman and tracker, leading you from your home to a torn down building that used to house people from the looks of it. You two cleared the needed amount of walkers before settling for the night.

"How do you always seem to know where to go?" You felt so lost out here, but Daryl marched on like he knew the area.

"Been trackin" my whole life. Know wha'm lookin' for."

The next day he quietly talked you through his vision, what he spotten and what it all meant as you moved on with your journey. You were learning and having fun doing so.

While he carried Daisy he let you try out his crossbow which resulted after a week of trying, in your first dinner kill.

That evening you sat close to him as he showed you how to skin small game and roast it over a fire.

You scavenged and hunted on your way, spending every moment together. You were enjoying it and so was he.

When a storm hit you managed to hole up in an old house just in time. It was fhe first night you kissed.

The storm caused the temperature tondrop, and the broken windows caused a lot of wind to gust through the house. You had wrapped Daisy in a bundle of blankets while Daryl worked to get a small fire started. You shared a large blanket, sitting shoulder to shoulder with your legs a tangled mess.

You could feel his gaze on you, quickly looking away each time you tried to catch him but eventually managing and softly laughing, pulljng even closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder. "You can stare, it's okay."

Your hand went to reach for his, making him look down into your eyes. He saw yours flick to his lips and back up and mimicked your gesture, watching you as you leaned closer to him.

"It's okay." Your voice was barely above a whisper, your fingers now intertwined and Daryl still felt comfortable.

With a steadying breath he leaned into you to close the gap, pressing his lips against you in a kiss that warmed you both more than the fire or blankets did.

From that night on you slept in each others' embrace whenever you could.

"Hey," you jogged to catch up with Daryl's strides. "Your group, is Daisy's mom a part of it?"

Daryl scoffed and replied with a stern "No."

"She ain't got no mom." It was clear from his tone he wasn't going to share anything else so you dropped it, falling in with him in silence.

You traveled like that for a while, not speaking unless it was needed until you came across a barn to rest in.

Daisy was tired and all the traveling had her fussing and crying and Daryl couldn't get her to quiet down in his tired, cranky state.

"Let me take her for a bit. You need to rest." Daryl tried to protest but he knew you'd win. He'd always let you win when you had disagreements and honestly he was too tired to even try at this point.

So now you cared for her, managing to make her crying stop and let Daryl sleep while you kept your ears open until you yourself dozed off too.

When you woke up the next morning Daryl was already up and about, keeping Daisy occupied and making sure she ate before you set out again.

Daryl fell into step beside you on a long stretch of road, glancing over at you with Daisy in your arms.

"Her mom.." he sighed deep. "She were a ..a girl, mah brother paid. Thought I needed ta get laid more often." The topic had him anxiously fiddling with the frays on his gloves. "She disappeared fer months. Dumped 'er on mah doorstep an' left."

Oh. You understood now why he never wanted to talk about it. But now you knew the basics you didn't ask further.

You also had to keep your mouth shut before your thoughts escaped.

'I can be her mom, if you let me.'

You weren't sure how he'd respond to those words spoken out loud, even with how close you had gotten over time.

So you kept the words inside, only showing your love for the two of them through actions.

"Ya listnin'?" Daryl stopped and turned to face you, almost having you run into him lost in thought.

Had he been talking to you for long?

You looked up from the road to look at him but all you clould focus on was the giant gate at the far end of the road.

Daryl took your hand in his and took you with him. Within minutes you were standing beside him in awe.

"We're 'ere."

ALEXANDRIA SAFE ZONE

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: That single dad fic I promised! I hope it's what y'all hoped ♡

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd x reader

[the-daiz]

Hello! I hope you having a wonderful day! I was wondering if you could do HxH hc for a reader who has excoriation disorder (impulsive skin picking)? You don't have to write about it if your uncomfortable with it! Thanks anyways ! <3

HxH characters helping reader with excoriation disorder (skin-picking)

Genre: fluff(?), Neutral

Paring(s): Gon x reader, Killua x reader, Kurapika x reader, Leorio x reader

Warning(s):-

Hellooo! Thank you for the request,! Sorry it took me awhile to answer. I hope you enjoy this

Side note: I WAS ANSWERING A HXH REQUEST ABOUT BPD AND HALF WAY THROIGH I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED IT SO I PANICKED AND DELETED IT WITHOUT SCREENSHOTTING SO IM SORRY PLS SEND A SECOND REQUEST IF THAT WAS U AHAH

Gon:

Is concerned.

Reminds you whenever you start absent-mindedly picking on your skin

He came back once with a bag full of creamy skin-care products, when you asked him what it was he said that some lady kept trying to sell scar removal creams to him, eventually he gave in and bought it for you. It turned out to be scam and all of the creams did nothing. Poor Gon

Gets you stuff to fidget with to distract you

Most of the time he just gets colorful squishy balls that have cat or dog patterns on them

But once he got you one of those gripping exercise tools

"Now you can distract yourself while being productive! :D"

Killua:

He laughs and makes fun of you at first

But when he understands that it's an actual issue, he stops.

Hits your hand away whenever yous start picking on your skin

Nicknames you "skin-shedder" (as lame as that sounds)

Often tells you to 'stop shedding your skin' 💀

Yells at you across the room if you start picking your skin, even in public despite how embarrassing that is

"STOP SHEDDING YOUR SKIN!"

Kurapika:

Good-old Kurapika

Has like- a whole cabinet of skin-care products and moisturizers that he showcases to you when he's aware of your disorder

Always reminds you when yous start picking again

Looks up a bunch of ways to prevent skin-picking on YouTube and shows you the ones that are most likely to work

One day he just walked into the room you were in with a half cut garlic in his hand and shoved it in front of you

"put this on your nails." "What-" "it'll help you stop picking your skin."

Leorio:

Doesn't really get it at first

Why is it an issue when you can just stop?

Obviously, when you explained it further to him he understood that it's not as easy to stop as it's sounds and becomes much more understanding after that

Of course, like everyone else, he reminds you when you start picking your skin

When you're in public and start doing it, he'll whispers a reminder in your ear or if your a distance from eachother he'll do a gesture with his hand

Instead of having skin-care products like Kurapika, he shopes for some products that might help with your scarring

#daisy loves platonic love #daisy also loves romantic love #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh #hunter x hunter fanfic #killua x reader #gon x reader #kurapika x reader #leorio x reader #kurapika headcanons #leorio headcanons #gon headcanons #killua headcanons #gon hxh #killua hxh #kurapika hxh #leorio hxh #gon and killua are supposed to be platonic

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘.

DAY SIX OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft dark fic, horror, murder mystery

summary: bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

word count: 10k (i don't know what happened)

warnings: dubcon at the end, knife kink, descriptive canon typical violence, blood & mild gore, grief and death, an unpleasant guy hitting on you, murder, face-sitting, throat-fucking, mutual oral sex (69), dirty talk, possessive!joel, exhibitionism (tommy watches very briefly, he also kisses you in a platonic way), sex in the woods, piv, Joel is actually quite nice if you exclude the murders, mild breeding kink, size kink, little bit of blood kink

a/n: the owl mask joel wears in this to hide who he is is inspired by @softlyspector's post about the tawny owl mug joel uses in tlou part 2 which I still get sad if I think about it for too long 😭

Bodies have been dropping dead all around you long before the outbreak. 

Maybe not in the everyone-you-know-is-getting-infected-and-killing-people type of way, but more so in a death-never-felt-like-a-stranger-to-you sort of way. Yet, you still don’t know how to deal with death. Your grief is as violent as a butterfly flapping its wings; the strength of it non-existent but you never know where, or when, it’ll cause a storm. 

First, it was your grade school teacher. You didn’t have a particularly strong bond with her but you did like her. You still remember how your friend's voice quaked as she gave you the news on a landline. You couldn’t believe it and had to accuse her of making a joke, even though you knew she would never joke about something like this. Then your dad took the phone from you and you just assumed your friend's mom did the same. The next week, when you went back to school and the funeral was now behind all the children in the classroom, the custodian cut the last tablecloth your teacher had used for her desk and gave a piece to each and every one of you. It was a vibrant orange cloth with daisies scattered around – ugly, but you still cherished it.

Then it was your pets, grandparents – there was also the time when your pet-crazed neighbor adopted another smaller dog while she still had two untrained, over-energized dogs, and the two twins ripped the other dog apart. You had seen the carnage. By some miracle, that small, fluffy dog named Sugar was still breathing, alive. You had held a blood bag over the dog's head, hoping that the small animal wouldn't die.

She didn’t die that day, but it sure as hell left a scar on you. 

As a kid, you never seemed to quite grasp the ways of grieving. You didn’t get angry. You didn’t cry. You just. . thought about it. However, the emotions came differently when you became an adult. Now when someone close to you died, you felt it more violently, oddly enough you still fought against the tears and only cried when you were alone. 

On Outbreak Day, you lost everything. 

Your family, your friends—your life, now it was all about survival, but survival towards what, you didn’t know. You killed for it, fought for it. Yet every move you made felt automatic like you were wired to at least try and survive — to wait it out and not be left behind when civilization rebuilt itself once more.

You made some friends along the way and lost some friends too. You locked their faces and their memories in your heart, only unlocking the box when you were truly and utterly alone. 

Then you found Jackson. 

And you met Joel and Tommy Miller.

Your official title is scavenger but you much prefer to label yourself as an explorer instead. 

You’ve adapted to your quite well life at Jackson. You go beyond the borders, sometimes alone and sometimes with other fellow explorers, and gather supplies or try to pinpoint other locations threats might be lurking in. You’re about to go on another trip, this one shorter than your regular one to two-week expeditions, but before heading out you decide to stop by the only bakery in Jackson named The Last Crumb—previously named The Cordyceps Crumb but Maria decided it was in bad taste. You, on the other hand, had found it funny and topical. 

As you patiently wait in line, your camping bag waiting for you outside the bakery, someone bumps into you from behind, then never moves back. 

You turn with a raised eyebrow, not enjoying the close proximity, “Excuse you,” you snap. The man looks at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes, you roll your eyes when you recognize the face. “Move back a beat Tucker, I’m not in the mood this morning.” 

“Someone didn’t get her beauty sleep,” he grins but moves away regardless. “Want me to come with you this time? Sweet thing like you alone out there? It’s ain’t right.” 

“You can barely aim. Why would I want someone that’s most likely to get me killed around me?” 

“I think you’ll find my company to be plenty entertaining.” 

You’re about to gag when the bell of the bakery chimes, the sharp sound echoing through the wooden walls. Your face must've shown immense signs of relief because Tucker turns around to see who you're looking at. His instant frown makes you want to laugh and chuck him between the two men you’d describe as a wolf den. 

“Well, if it ain’t the Miller brothers,” Tucker tuts, attempting to give one of them a friendly pat on the shoulder. He stops midway when Joel’s gaze flits between you and him, his glare hard enough to cut diamonds. 

So he ends up slapping Tommy’s shoulder instead, which isn’t the best thing since you know the younger Miller hates Tucker. But among the brothers, he’s probably the one with less probability of getting your hand bitten off.

“Mornin’ Tucker,” Tommy answers, forcing a smile. 

Joel is less friendly, his words directed at you, “Is this dumbass botherin’ you again?” 

“I wouldn't exactly call a greeting among friends “botherin’,” Tucker says. “We’re just catchin’ up, no need to get your panties in a bunch Miller.” 

“God, you’re one word away from ruining my morning,” you hiss, glaring at the unpleasant man. “And we’re not friends.” 

His brows furrow, eyes going hard with an ugly snarl accompanying them, you feel braver when Tommy and Joel are around so you hold his gaze, not flinching away. 

Tommy is the one to ease the tension. He lays a hand on Tucker’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing the man’s attention away from you. “I’ll get you what you want a’right Tucker? It’s on me. Just go wait outside.” 

“But—” 

“Outside, Tuck,” Tommy repeats and you shudder at his tone. 

Tucker’s shoulders drop, defeated, “Fine, get me a raisin bagel.” 

He doesn’t wait for Tommy’s response and heads out the bakery. You finally release the breath you’ve been holding, your muscles relaxing along with the exhaled breath. Joel is by your side in the blink of an eye, his broad shoulder brushing yours providing comfort. 

“You sure you’re a’right?” he asks, gently curling fingers under your chin. “The prick didn’t do anythin’?” 

“Nah, nothing. He’s all bark but no bite. He asked if he wanted to join me today as if that buffoon wouldn’t get me killed.” you shrug, men being assholes was nothing new to you. You’re just glad that in Jackson it seems that there are more good apples than rotten ones.  “Too bad even paradise comes with drawbacks.” 

Joel snorts as Tommy cuts in, “Maria would be thrilled if she heard you calling it paradise.” 

“What are you smiling at? You think you can find anywhere better?” You playfully nudge Joel with your elbow. “You know there’s nothing but hell out there.” 

“I do, I just think callin’ here a paradise is a bit of a stretch is all.” 

The line moves and the three of you are finally at the counter, “You’re just a grump,” you tease Joel before turning your gaze to Poppy, the barista who knows everything about everyone. “Hey there, Poppy, the usual please.” 

“And a damn raisin bagel,” Tommy adds. 

“Well, isn’t it my favorite trio,” Poppy grins. “I’ll get all that ready for you in a second,” she locks her blue eyes on you and leans closer, you mimic her by instinct. “By the way have you heard of Ian? He wound up dead right outside the chopping block, an axe right through his chest.”  

You frown, “Good morning to you too, Poppy. Jesus Christ.” 

“I’ll confess I didn’t love the guy but isn’t it worrying that there’s a killer among us?” she murmurs while stuffing the goodies in paper bags. “Be careful out there.” 

“Well, if the culprit is here I think I might be safer out there,” you say and turn to Tommy. “Does Maria know?” 

“Of course, she does,” when you part your lips to say more, he lifts a finger and shoots you a crooked smile. “It’s confidential.” 

“Aw man, can’t you just tell us who she thinks it is?” Poppy asks, Tommy shakes his head and she lets out a dramatic sigh, “I miss my murder mystery books.” 

“I’ll try to find you something while I’m out,” you say, ignoring the way your heart began to race. Jackson is still a small town, it’s jarring to think someone might be out there, looking for their next target. “Though I think we could all do with a little less murder.” 

You hadn’t expected your voice to crack but your tone had betrayed you. Poppy extends you the bag of goods and a latte, as you reach out you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. His lips touch your ear. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure whoever it is is only goin’ after those who deserve it.” 

You lock your eyes with him, blinking heavily at the weight of his words. His voice had dropped, nothing but gravel as he whispered the words into your ear. A cold sensation slithers down your spine, chilling you to your core and making your throat tighten. 

His hand never leaves your waist as the three of you head out, and after a while, that chill slowly dissolves into a pleasurable warmth. 

You find solace in the woods. You love Jackson, but being in the woods away from everyone and everything makes you feel comforted. The first time you went scavenging, there was a slight fear in your movements; no matter how good your aim was, any kind of infected was difficult to kill.

But now you walk with ease. There isn’t an ounce of worry in your bones. The trees rustle happily and the smell of flowers and pine fills your nostrils. You can feel your lungs rejuvenating with every breath. Trickles of orange sunlight pour from the gaps of the trees. The sun sets, meaning you need to set up camp soon. 

While unpacking, you think of this morning. How Joel and Tommy stepped in when Tucker started bothering you. Honestly, you didn’t need their protection; Tucker is just one of those men who think they might have a shot if they bother you enough times. Still, it was nice to be claimed in a way, to be accepted into a family and cared for.

Your breath hitches slightly. Tommy, you see as a close friend, a brother perhaps, but Joel... Joel is another thing. Just thinking about him is enough to start a wildfire between your legs. You wish you were brave enough to do something about it, though. Whenever you two patrol together or stay awake late at night drinking, you always chicken out in the end. It doesn’t matter how his hands linger on your thighs or his eyes drop to your lips; you're just never convinced that the Joel Miller would be interested in you beyond a friend.

An unease starts to settle in the pit of your stomach. As the air grows colder with the approaching night, your skin prickles and you feel the phantom sensation of claws dragging down your back. You set the tent as quickly as you can, your eyes darting around the depths of the forest. Briefly, you bend over to adjust the ropes. 

A breath warm and damp ghosts the back of your neck and you jump, gun in hand as you turn around only to find—

Nothing. 

And no one. 

Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline pumping in your veins, a drop of sweat trickling down your forehead. You've never had a trigger finger, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to just shoot every shadow you see.

“Dammit Poppy,” you mutter, annoyed that she gave you the brutal knowledge of Ian’s death right before you were heading out. Guilt stings at your heart. Ian was an asshole for sure, and you don’t exactly feel bad that he’s gone, but still, it was an eerie thought that someone had murdered him so violently. It had to be personal. 

Some part of you wishes Joel was here, or even Tucker, just another human being to tell you you’re just seeing things. 

You take a deep inhale and follow it up with a long exhale. You’re fine. There’s no one here. 

You give your surroundings one last suspicious look before going back to setting the tent. 

No matter how hard you try you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you amongst the shadows. 

Joel hears crickets and owls. The night had always been his friend since the outbreak. He had become a violent man with an equally violent heart. He waits in the shadows, watching. Laughter and playful shouts echo from the bar, and soon the door swings open; the man he's been waiting for crawls out of the establishment, shit-faced. The drunk man shouts his farewells and staggers toward his home.

Joel follows, his mask heating up the skin that lays underneath. His fingers itch with the need to wring that asshole's neck. One by one, he had been cleaning Jackson for the better. His tendencies subdued while also doing some good. Ian was one of those people who deserved it and Joel had enjoyed the chase, the pleas, he especially enjoyed the way he tripped and cried right before he sunk the blade of the axe through Ian’s chest. 

Tucker trips, making Joel want to laugh. The idiot might not even realize he’s being hunted. Joel looks around, they are far enough for the chase to begin. Tucker continues to slip and fall as he attempts to get up. Taking the opportunity, Joel walks towards him with quick steps, making sure the first thing the asshole sees is his mask. 

Tucker notices him before he gets up, his hands bracing the ground, his eyes go wide, “What the fuck?” 

Joel only tilts his head. He sees the trembles rolling down the other man’s body, he relishes in his fear. 

“Look man, I don’t want any trouble, whoever the fuck you are so. . . scram.” 

Joel’s eyes dart to his hand on the dirt, without a second thought he lifts his foot and curb stomps Tucker’s hand. Then he kicks the side of his face, an audible crunch echoing before his scream could. The man whimpers and falls back in his attempt to crawl away. He holds his jaw, blood streaming down his broken nose. 

“Who the fuck are you?!”  

He steps closer and watches as Tucker’s eyes bug out. He’s too drunk to properly run away or even scream. Such an easy target. He grips the other’s hair and lifts him to his feet, he can feel the strands starting to rip from his scalp one by one, Tucker’s face twisting in pain. “Your worst fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel answers eerily calm. It doesn’t matter if Tucker recognizes him. He’d be dead soon enough anyway. 

“P-Please,” he begs, realizing the same thing. “I’ll do whatever you want promise. I don’t want to die.” 

Joel grunts, not dignifying his pleas with an answer. Lifting his other hand, his knuckles connect to Tucker’s face with a loud crunch, body flying to the ground headfirst. 

He pulls out his knife and drops down, ignoring the ache in his knees, he grabs Tucker’s arm and aligns the sharp blade against his wrist. Tucker notices, his face going pale as a ghost. “D-Don’t—” 

Joel doesn’t bat an eye as blood spurts violently over his clothes and the dirt. Drops of crimson seeping into the fabric. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, severing hand from bone. His hand clamps over Tucker’s mouth. Joel smiles as his screams bounce off of the palm of his hand. 

You come back to Jackson hand empty and earlier than intended. You were too much at unease, and being so jarred wasn’t the best while scavenging for supplies alone. During your trip, you did end up scribbling something for Poppy. It wasn’t finished but you hoped she would enjoy the first draft of the first chapter. It was mostly descriptions of what you felt, a cat-and-mouse game between two people who had bumped into each other accidentally. 

While heading into Jackson, you notice a crowd in the distance. You promptly get off your horse and walk with haste. You recognize Joel and Tommy easily, both brothers standing on each end of the crowd like gates keeping a herd of sheep in check. Ellie is standing right next to Joel, lifting herself on her toes to see; Joel is holding her back by gripping the cap of her hood.

“What’s going on?” you ask. 

Joel turns to you, his eyebrows raising when notices it’s you and not some random person he has to ignore, “You’re back,” he says. A statement rather than a question. 

“Yeah, wasn’t feeling that well,” you shrug him off. “So what happened?” 

His eyes turn to steel, his jaw locking in place. Before you can ask again, he gestures for you to move up the crowd with a tilt of his head.

“Lucky,” you hear Ellie murmur as you walk ahead, gently pushing those who were looking at the sight with concern. With every step you take, the murmur of the crowd fades into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Maria is addressing the crowd, you think, though you're not entirely sure. The scent of blood is thick in the air, disorienting you as you get closer.

Your eyes go wide, the earth slips from beneath you but your expression remains emotionless.  

It’s Tucker. 

You feel as if you’re standing alone. As if you’re the only one taking in the sight of absolute horror and gore. Tucker is lying in a pile of his own blood face first, his eyes are open and lifeless, his one hand is outstretched like he’s about to crawl away.

His right hand, however, is chopped off. 

It’s not even a clean-cut. The edges of his flesh are jagged and crooked, his blood-caked where his hand should be. Whoever did this cut it so it would hurt, so he would suffer tremendously. 

You can’t help but gasp, covering your mouth with your right hand. You begin to shake, confusion churning in your stomach as bile coats your tongue. He’s dead. Just like Ian. 

When Maria’s eyes find your own, she narrows her gaze, a small warning for you to keep it together. You can’t though. How could you? Tucker was alive and kicking a couple of days ago, just being his annoying self around Jackson. 

“Calm down,” you hear Joel mutter into your ear. You shiver at the brush of his lips. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” 

Safe. You want to laugh. You don’t even know what that word means anymore. 

Joel’s mouth moves over the shell of your ear, “He was a nuisance. Don’t feel bad now that he’s dead.” 

“I didn’t want him to die,” you hiss back. “And knowing there’s a serial killer out there doesn’t exactly make me feel safe.” 

Despite your half-angry tone, you find yourself leaning into Joel’s presence. Your shoulder presses into his broad chest, and without missing a beat he wraps his arms around your shaking frame. Relief comes in the form of warmth spreading along your chest, tingles forming at the tips of your fingers and toes. The voices of the crowd gradually come back but you only hear one of the many questions.

“What do you think the message means?” 

Confusion crosses your face, brows furrowing as you try to make sense of it. Joel makes a choked-out sound that could’ve easily been taken as an amused chuckle. 

Then your eyes drop to Tucker’s outstretched hand and his dying message written in blood. 

O W L 

A week had passed since Tucker’s death. 

You've been thinking about both murders relentlessly, trying to piece together everything that you know so far. During this time, you're grateful for Poppy, who comes by almost every night to help you try to solve the case. That's been your sole focus for the past few weeks; you haven't been scavenging since you spooked yourself so badly that you returned early, only to find Tucker dead.

Some part of you thinks that the eeriness you felt that day was a sign of what was about to happen. It's also an odd coincidence that he ended up dead the same night he harassed you in the morning. However, there are no forensic investigators in Jackson, so it’s almost impossible to determine the exact time of death. That fact alone makes you anxious. It only means that whoever is killing everyone has nothing to worry about because even if they leave traces, who’s going to know?

In order to keep your nerves in check you end up writing a lot. You haven’t shown any of it to Poppy yet but you’re excited. You never thought writing a thriller would be the perfect way to escape the horrors of your actual life. At least in your stories, you have control. 

You also visit Joel and vice versa. 

Something had shifted the day he held you as you both gazed upon Tucker’s lifeless body. Maybe it was just you who felt bolder since death was once again right around the corner — or maybe Joel just felt more protective now, wanting to check on you as much as he could.

“You’re really writin’ a whole ass novel?” he asks, pouring you a glass of scotch. You still can’t get over the fact that it nearly tasted identical to the actual stuff. Jackson is truly a miracle; at least when bodies aren’t dropping left and write. 

Ellie’s at a sleepover, which means you and Joel have the whole house to yourselves. With everything going on you’d expect your libido to diminish a bit but it’s as strong as ever, ready to go. 

You smile as he places the glass in front of you, “Yeah,” you say, picking up the glass and heading toward the living room. “I couldn’t find Poppy anything to read and it helps me relax.” 

“Relax, how?” he asks, taking a seat next to you. The couch dips with his weight, and heat crawls up from your chest to your neck when his knee brushes against yours. 

“Well, it’s a horror thing. Horror slash mystery? I don’t know—whatever it is, it’s nice to have an outlet to escape what’s been happening lately.” 

“So to escape brutal murders you write more brutal murders?” 

You chuckle at the way his eyebrows raise, eyes going wide, “I don’t really focus that much on the gore. It’s more psychological, my sweet brute. Things don’t need to have blood to be scary.” 

His grin is wide and instant, dark eyes lighting up with amusement, “What did you just call me?” 

“I. . .” Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, suddenly realizing what you’d said. 

“What cat got your tongue?” he teases. Joel leans closer, fingers dancing along the curve of your shoulder. You can feel the gravel in his voice. “You just called me yours, sweetheart. Does that jog your memory?” 

“I also called you brute,” you quip back immediately, cheeks aflame. “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Don’t it?” his palm now presses fully into your shoulder, keeping you in place in case you might run. Joel tilts his head slightly, the plush of his lips only an inch away. “I like you callin’ me that,” the pink of his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Say it again.”  

“S-Say what?” 

A small chuckle parts his lips, oddly enough it almost feels like his patience is wearing thin. He comes closer, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “That I’m yours,” he clarifies. “Been waitin’ to hear those words come from your mouth since I met you.” 

“You’re mine,” you whisper against his lips, eyelids fluttering but not quite closing. With the confession, you feel the brush of Joel’s lips on yours. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth. You part for him with a moan, and taking the opportunity, he slides inside, tasting every inch of you. 

His lips taste and feel like the forests you wander off to; it soothes you, calms your nerves, and has the taste of home. They’re chapped from the sun, yet soft. You can’t have enough of him, if he’d offered, you’d gladly kiss him forever. 

Joel parts with a shaky breath, his chest heaving, “And you’re mine,” he groans, his eyes dark with arousal. It’s an involuntary action but your eyes drop to the front of his pants where you see the thick outline of his cock. 

Your mouth goes dry, yet you manage to speak anyway, “Are words all you’ve been waiting for?” It’s bold, you’re highly aware, but you can’t help it when he’s this close. His scent suffocating, pulling you to him like a moth to a flame. 

He stares at you silently. His thumb touches your bottom lip, slightly tugging it down. He’s not smiling anymore, only observing. 

“No,” Joel answers slowly. He leans towards your ears, the thick hairs above his lips tickling your skin. “I’ve also been waitin’ to feel that velvet tongue on my cock, honey. And to feel how tight your throat gets when you take every inch of me.” 

Joel blows a puff of air, it caresses your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He brings your hand to the front of his pants, dragging your palm up and down his length. You shudder. The heat of it seeps into your palm despite the thick fabric of his jeans, you lick your lips absentmindedly. “This is all for you sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, Joel. . .” your eyes roll back when he kisses your neck, open-mouthed kisses laid upon your skin like a gift. Your nipples tighten and if you look down right now, you know you’ll see them peeking through your shirt. 

He reads your thoughts, eyes moving down before meeting your gaze again. “Didn’t know you walked around without a bra, sunshine.” 

“I only go braless when I’m comfortable,” you answer. Joel cups your breasts roughly, kneading the flesh, he simultaneously sucks on your neck, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. “Oh god,” the fabric of your panties grows damp and you clench your thighs together. 

“Not god,” he says sharply, sinking his teeth into you. “Joel.” 

“Joel,” you moan and arch your back, filling more of yourself into his palm. You squeeze his cock, relishing in the way he makes a strangled sound. “I want to suck you off, Joel.” 

“Be my guest.” 

You push him until he’s lying on the couch. You’re about to unbutton his jeans but he stops you. 

“Turn around,” he says. 

“What?” 

His wide grin nearly stops your heart, “Want to taste that sweet pussy, sunshine. Strip down and take a seat.” 

“On—On your face?” 

“Where else?” 

You’re too embarrassed to speak, tongue suddenly too big in your mouth. Quickly, and a bit clumsily, you strip down and turn before straddling his chest. You don’t need to touch yourself to know that you’re soaked. 

You swallow, “I’ve never done this before.” 

His hands come up to cradle your hips, urging you to move back towards his face. You feel the blunt sting of his nails. 

“That’s alright,” he mutters. “I won’t let you fall if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“I’m more worried about how I’m gonna move, or accidentally suffocating you.” 

“What a noble way it would be to go.” 

“Joel!” you laugh, playfully smacking his thigh. He answers by giving your hips another squeeze, you surrender and move back until you’re hovering over his face. Your hand planted firmly over his hip bones, you lower yourself. You shudder as his tongue licks a stripe between your folds. He moans into your cunt, pulling you flush against his face. 

Meanwhile, you finally unzip his pants and pull his cock out, the heft of it bumping against your nose and lips. You drip at the smell of him and swear he smiles as he sucks on your aching clit, short-circuiting your brain with arousal. His cock throbs in your palm, a drop of precome glistening at the tip. Your mouth watering, you lean forward and clean him off. Another groan echoes within his chest and he thrusts forward, the tip of his cock kissing your lips. 

Eyes fluttering closed, you suck on the bulbous head and force yourself to go down until he hits the back of your throat. You wrap a hand around the base, stroking where you can’t fit, and hallow your cheeks. 

“Come on, sunshine. You can take me,” he rasps. “You’re mine, aren’t you? That mouth is meant to take me.” 

Without waiting for an answer, Joel pushes his tongue inside, your walls clenching around the wet muscle—you let out a loud gasp and grind down, then you feel the sting of his palm against your ass, pain blossoming from where he smacked. 

Your throat rattles with a moan and Joel takes the opportunity to drive forward, your eyes go wide as you feel the length of him sliding down your throat, cutting the air from your lungs. 

“Oh, fuck—” he moans unabashedly, the sounds sending a pleasurable tingle down your spine despite the strain on your throat. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that. Fuck, fuck—” 

Your throat tightens around him, your lungs starting to burn. His hand caresses both sides of your ass, the abrupt pain of the smack from before subduing, “Relax,” he says, swirling his tongue around your clit. “Breathe through your nose. Just a bit more. . .” 

Your nails bite into his thighs as you attempt to follow instructions. You relax your throat and slowly begin to breathe from your nose. It’s still difficult, but your lungs rejoice in the minimal amount of air that comes through. You make a mess of him. Saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth and down his length. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he murmurs. “Gonna fuck that pretty throat now and make this pussy come, understood?” 

Eyes tearing up, you nod. From the way your stomach convulses, you know that you’re close, your skin tight over your trembling muscles. The nod is all that Joel needs from you. Holding you in place, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself completely down your throat while flicking his tongue against your clit. You scream around him, eyes rolling back as he continues to devour you and take you apart at the same time. He licks you with fat strokes of his tongue, a hint of teeth scraping your folds here and there as he fucks your throat with shallow thrusts. 

You’re limp against his broad body, allowing him to use you as he pleases while all you can do is hang on for the ride. Pleasure licks the base of your spine, a searing heat caressing your skin while Joel continues to build you up only for you to fall spectacularly. Your lips start to ache, your throat squeezing around him whenever he snaps his hips forward— 

And all hell finally breaks loose. 

You come undone with a devastating cry only for it to be muffled by his cock going down your throat. You gush around his tongue, soaking his facial hair and mouth, Joel is underrated, licking and sucking until you’re shaking above him, every bit of tension draining from your body. 

Joel comes shortly after, his hand slides from your waist and he manages to reach out in order to hold your head down. You don’t have a choice but to swallow as he spills down your throat, thick spurts of come going down while he shudders and pushes even deeper. 

There’s so much of it, cock twitching and throbbing in your mouth until your mouth sucks him dry. You’re lightheaded from the lack of air; you find that it adds to the pleasure that’s buzzing in your veins, your cunt still pulsing with the heft of him still buried in your lips. 

He pulls out with a satisfied groan and you manage to scoot down so you’re straddling his chest instead of head. Joel caresses your back, the gentle repeated motion sending tingles down your spine. 

“That’s was fuckin’ amazin’,” he says, voice hoarse. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” you answer sounding meek. “I think I need some water though.” 

You get off, legs still shaking, but he grabs your hand, halting your movement. “Let me get it for you,” he says, sitting up. 

“I’m already up,” you smile as his brows furrow with worry, the expression warming your heart. You quickly bend down to kiss him and he’s quick to lick himself into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue. “I’ll be right back.” 

You have no idea how you’re standing while feeling like jello but you manage to get yourself all the way to the fridge. You smile at the coolness touching your warmed skin when you open the door. Scanning the interior, you thoughtlessly rub at your throat in an attempt to soothe the ache a little. You grab the pitcher of cold water and notice a bit of apple pie left over. 

“Hey, Joel?” you call out. He hums in acknowledgment. “Can I have a slice of pie?” 

His humored chuckle follows through, “You can eat the whole damn thing after what you’ve done,” you smile and take the desert out. “Can you bring me a slice too?” he adds. 

You smile and place the pie on the counter. The leftover is already two slices give or take so you decide to just take two forks with you instead of dirting a plate. Looking through the drawers, you try to remember which one is the cutlery drawer. 

On your second try you find something else. 

Something that makes your eyes go wide and heart throb painfully. 

Your hands shaking, you pick up the owl mask from the drawer. The surface is smooth, and the color of it a light shade of brown just like a tawny owl. All the pleasant tingles fade away, the buzz of pleasure in your veins replaced by fear and adrenaline. 

Heading back to the living room, you show the mask to Joel. 

“What’s this?” you ask, your voice betraying your sudden outburst of fear. 

Joel looks up, eyes flitting between you and the owl mask. He raises a brow, his confusion evident across his face. “It’s a mask, sweetheart.” 

“No no, I know it’s a mask,” you answer, breathless. “But why do you have it?” 

“It’s Ellie’s,” he stands up, his pants still unbuttoned but pulled up. You fight the urge to step away, fight the urge to flinch when he touches your cheek. “They were makin’ Halloween masks last year in school. I didn’t even realize we still had it.” 

“Really?” you ask and he nods. 

“Really,” Joel claims your lips in a chaste kiss, thumb stroking lines up and down your cheek. His hand slithers down your arm to your wrist and when he squeezes, you drop the mask. “Why?” he breathes into you. “Is this about the damn thing Tucker wrote down?” 

You remain silent and he pulls away, dark eyes boring into yours. 

“You need to relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles. “Why don’t you just allow yourself to enjoy this? You deserve to be happy.” 

Your eyes widen with surprise, his words crashing into you, “I. . . Do I do that? Really?” 

“It’s normal, darlin’,” he answers. “I’m pretty sure we all have survivor’s guilt.” 

You let out a shaky exhale. He’s right. You were just feeling guilty of being alive when so many had died. Joel smiles back and traces the curve of yours with his fingers. “There’s that smile that I adore,” he guides you towards the kitchen. “Now let’s go eat some pie.” 

No matter what though, you can’t help but turn back to look at the owl mask one last time as it lays lifelessly on the floor. 

“So, tell me about this book you’re writin’?” 

You let out a low laugh, “I already told you about it. What more do you wanna know?” 

You stare at Joel’s back as he takes the lead, he’d decided to join you in your explorations ever since you told him how nervous you had gotten the last time. You had appreciated the gesture but still felt a tad anxious around him ever since you found that damn owl mask— 

A branch snaps into two under your steps and he turns, extending his hand to you. With a smile you allow him to lace his fingers within yours, your stomach jumping a little as he tugs you close so the two of you are walking side by side instead. 

“If memory serves me right we got distracted when you told me about it,” he says with that southern drawl of his. “So tell me again what it’s about.” 

“Okay okay,” you smile, squeezing his hand twice. “It’s all a big mess now but the premise is that there’s this guy obsessed with this woman and he stalks her and no matter what she does, she always feels like there’s someone watching.” 

Joel looks ahead, “Sounds familiar. Isn’t that how you felt last time you were out here?” 

“Yeah, and it’s when I started writing it.” 

“So do these two people know each other?” his tone drops, his fingers suddenly feeling like barbed wire within your hand. You swallow. “I mean in their regular lives, does the woman know that he’s the one stalkin’ her?” 

You roll your shoulders, a weak attempt to shrug off the eeriness that you feel. 

“Exactly. I think that just makes the whole thing creepier. He’s just a normal guy, even a friend, but he’s also the one among the shadows.” 

“Interestin’,” he murmurs. “You think that’s happenin’ to you?” 

“I don’t think there’s someone stalking me, if that’s what you’re asking,” you utter every word hastily, your pulse quickening under your skin. 

His lips curl in a half smile, “That’s good,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to be laying awake thinking about what might lingerin’ on the other side of the window.” 

“I think I’m more likely to stay awake thinking about infected,” you say with a soft laugh. “But yeah, it’s all fiction. That day I probably just got scared because of what Poppy said about Ian.” 

“Probably,” Joel trails off, his steps slowing. “How do you think it’s gonna end?” 

“W-What?” 

He stops and so does your heart. At least you think it does. 

Joel faces you fully, his presence towering, he grips your shoulders and pushes you back until the air is knocked from your lungs by a tree right behind you. Your eyes go wide. He leans in, breath tickling your lips. 

“How do you think your book is gonna end, sweetheart?” he asks again, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Is the guy gonna get the girl?” 

“I—I don’t know.” 

All you can think about is the owl mask and how it would perfectly fit his face. He cocks his head and taking a step closer, he slips a leg between your thighs. Slick gathers at your underwear—he feels the fabric dampening on his leg and grins. 

“Fear turns you on doesn’t it?” he purrs. “Wicked thing.” 

Relief drowns your senses. So that’s why he got all weird suddenly, he’s just teasing you. With a laugh, your head falls back against the tree trunk, “Jesus Joel, you scared the shit out of me.” 

“It ain’t my fault,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re easy to scare.” 

“Well, two brutal unsolvable murders will do that to a girl.” 

Joel lets go and pulls away, smiling as he shakes his head, “What’s it gonna take for you to believe I had nothin’ to do with those? Even in death, Tucker causes nothin’ but fuckin’ trouble for me.” 

“You don’t need to do anything, I’m sorry,” you pull him back, relishing in the way his strong arms wrap around your frame. “I’ll stop being such a chicken, promise. I’m still a bit jittery that’s all.” 

“I forgive you,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before pulling you away from the thick trunk of the tree. “Now let’s find a place to settle down for the night.” 

When you two return to Jackson three days later, the first thing you notice is the crowd. Your stomach drops at the familiar sight and instinctively you reach out to Joel, lacing your fingers together. He squeezes your hand two times. 

The last thing you should be feeling is relief that now it’s not possible for Joel to be the one killing all those people but alas, that’s all you feel. Relief and love. 

The trade fair sprawls before you. Stalls with makeshift awnings, tattered banners, and worn tarps create a patchwork quilt of colors, beneath which a diverse array of goods is proudly displayed. The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the tang of cured leather, and the earthy aroma of herbs. Laughter, chatter, and the occasional clinking of metal form a lively symphony, a chorus of life that drowns out the ever-present background hum of death and infection.

You’ve always enjoyed the time of the trade fair. People move like busy ants, weaving between the stalls. Children, their cheeks dusted with earth, dart through the crowd, their carefree laughter that should be comforting doing the opposite. Since Tina’s death— she was one of the council members— you had been sleeping at Joel’s. Neither he nor Ellie seemed to mind you staying there. 

The purpose of the fair is to exchange goods – to exchange, to connect, to share stories of survival.

Your eyes scan the crowd for Joel's familiar silhouette. He and Ellie had headed out before you since you wanted a change of clothes. Just as your gaze begins to falter, a voice reaches your ears. "Hey!" It's Poppy, she waves you over.

You navigate your way through the bustling stalls until you stand before Poppy. She's leaning against a rough-hewn post, a glint of excitement in her eyes. 

“Hey, Poppy,” you greet her with a smile. “I’m looking for Joel, or Ellie, have you seen either of them?”

“Well, Ellie is with Dina, hanging out,” She points to the forest that skirts the settlement. "I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

“Alright, thanks. I’ll see you later then,” Waving her off, you head after Joel. 

The trees are a bit more scarce here, there’s more room between them. The forest opens up, revealing a sprawling expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. It's a stark contrast to the dense woods you often travel to, where the trees stand like guardians, their branches interlocking in a tapestry of shadow and light. Here, the gaps between the trees create pockets of sunlight that dapple the forest floor. 

However, the expanses between trees can be deceiving, and without the markers and familiarity of the well-trodden paths closer to home, it's easy to lose your way. 

For some reason instead of calling out for Joel, you decide to wander aimlessly. You’re not sure why. You don’t come to this side of Jackson often enough to feel comfortable with your surroundings and shouting his name would definitely be easier than walking without aim. 

Soon enough you hear faint murmuring beckoning you deeper into the forest. 

Survival instincts kicking in, you slow down your steps, making sure to step onto clear dirt instead of gravel or fallen branches. Hiding behind a rather large tree trunk, you stare ahead. In the distance, you see two men: one with his back against the tree, while the other holds him by the neck, the sharp blade of his knife catching the sunlight and reflecting it directly into your eyes.

You hold your breath and your eyes go wide. You hear the thrum of your heart. It’s the killer. It has to be. 

You can’t quite hear them but you can decipher the tone of begging for one's life. The man holding the knife tilts his head slightly, your mouth waters at the prospect of finally seeing the murderer's face—

It’s the mask. 

The same mask you found in Joel’s home in the shape of an owl. Your stomach churns violently, bile raising to your throat as you watch on. You rub at your eyes, take deep breaths—anything you can think of that would erase the image before you. 

Goosebumps raising across your skin, you shake your head. It can’t be Joel. He was with you the day Tina died and no matter how competent he was not even he could be at two places at once. 

A muffled scream echoes within the forest and your eyes snap to the two men, the owl had driven his knife into the flesh and bone. He pulls it out, and the body falls. You recognize who it is; Jacob. You heard his name a couple of days ago from Ellie, he was bothering both her and Dina because they were hanging out. 

He’s still alive when the killer stomps his head in, blood splattering across the leys. 

You’re frozen in place. Your throat dry and tongue motionless. The killer kicks Jacob one last time for good measure and finally stops. You observe the way his shoulders drop as if a great weight had been lifted off of them, then he looks up into the sky, the golden sun highlighting his mask. 

Very slowly, he lifts his hand and takes it off. 

Every feeling comes rushing back, too fast and too soon. Your tongue is alive again and so is your body, the world is suddenly vibrant with life and horror. The sun continues to caress the countenance of the unmasked killer’s face, his sunkissed skin the perfect canvas to soak up the light. 

Joel. 

You take a step back, every thought of precaution dropping from your mind. The forest starts to spin. It spins and spins and spins until the ground slips from beneath your feet. You catch yourself at the very last second. 

When you look up you see his gaze staring directly into yours. 

“Fuck,” you hiss out, quickly staggering up. The last thing you see before you start running is his extended hand as he tries to reach out for you. 

“Wait!” 

You don’t. You do the exact opposite of that. You run. You run for your life and those in Jackson at the fair. 

You run with memories loud in your mind. How Joel had listened to you, comforted you, fucked you—

Tears sting your eyes. Every part of this feels like a nightmare that you hope to wake up from anytime soon. But as the wind hits your skin, you know that every part of this is very much real. Your chest burns from how fast you’re going, your legs starting to falter underneath you. 

Before you can react, an unexpected force slams into you. The impact sends shockwaves through your body as you collide with something—or is it someone?—their presence as jarring as the jolt itself. Your momentum falters, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow as you stumble, desperately trying to regain your balance.

Two arms grab at you and without even seeing who it is, you start to push the person away, fighting against it like a wild animal. 

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” 

“Hey hey hey,” you hear a familiar voice repeat. “It’s me, you’re okay,” you’re shaking all around, only when you feel his hands cradle your cheeks do you open your eyes. He smiles when he sees your eyes flicker in recognition. 

“Tommy?” you whisper. He nods and without a thought you jump him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him close. His arms coil around you in response, promising to not let go. “Oh, thank fuck it’s you.” 

“What happened? Are you alright?” 

“I—I am okay but—Joel—It’s Joel, Tommy he’s been the one behind all those murders. We need to warn everyone, we need to tell Maria!” 

You grab his arm and tug him along toward what you assume is the right way out of the forest. He remains still. Turning around, you shoot him a confused glance. 'Tommy, we need to tell people.'

“Can’t let you do that sugar, sorry.” 

“Why. . . Why not?” you let go and slowly step back, heart pounding. “Is it because he’s your brother?” 

You wish that was his excuse. Some moral obligation towards Joel because he’s his brother, that you can relate to. Your heart still pounds for Joel and in your brain, you’re still desperately seeking an explanation. 

But Tommy allows the silence to linger, your fear and worry quickly turning into anger. 

“Fine, I’ll tell them. It’s wrong.” 

It only takes a blink of an eye; you feel Tommy’s iron grip around your wrist, yanking you back into his chest. He holds you. Oddly tender for someone who had made your arm nearly fall out of its socket. You thrash within his arms, pulling and hitting his chest. 

“We’re doing good,” he grunts. “You gotta see that.” 

You refuse to listen, your ear narrowing on the sound of your own blood rush instead of his words. By some miracle, you manage to slip your arm out and punch him square in the chin. It was a weak punch but strong enough to startle Tommy. 

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart, calm the fuck down—” he tucks your arm back against your body and turns you around so your back is flush against his chest. You’re breathing raggedly, chest rising with every deep gulp of air. His lips touch your ear, his tone menacing, “I really wish you would’ve not done that.” 

“Why?” you gasp. “You’re gonna kill me too?” 

Silence follows, and with every passing moment sweat beads on your forehead, “It was you wasn’t it?” you continue. “You killed Tina. Joel only came along with me to calm my suspicions.” 

Before Tommy can confirm your suspicions, you notice movement within the forest and your eyes are immediately drawn to the shadow coming forth.  

“Smart girl,” Joel remarks with a half smile as he emerges from between the trees. There’s a splatter of red over his shirt but the knife seems to be tucked away. For now. “But you’re only half right, darlin’. I came along because I like spendin’ time with you.” 

“Is that supposed to make me ignore the fact that Jacob’s body isn’t even cold yet?” 

Joel curls two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze while Tommy continues to hold you back. You shudder against him, a soft sound parts the younger Miller’s lips. 

“He was a piece of shit,” Joel grunts. “He was botherin’ Ellie, callin’ her names, he deserved what he was gettin’.” 

“So what, you guys are just playing hero? Killing everyone who’s causing trouble in town? There’s a system for that.” 

“Honey,” he tuts, an involuntary warmth spreading within your abdomen. “The system didn’t work before the outbreak, it ain’t gonna work now either.” 

“We protect our own,” Tommy says from behind you, breath fanning your neck. “We take care of it before it escalates. You have to understand that.” 

“And why the hell would I understand?” you hiss, looking directly into Joel’s eyes while addressing Tommy. 

Joel smiles, his lips curling slowly, “Because you’re one of us. And you like it when we protect.” 

Your lips part with an exhale. He’s right, not that you still agree with them killing people, but you had enjoyed that primal protection coming from the Millers. It made you feel powerful, loved, cared for. All the things you craved deeply. 

You ignore Joel and his words entirely, averting your eyes with embarrassment and shame. 

“I just don’t understand why you did it, Tommy” you murmur. Tommy tenses behind you, his arms tightening around your frame, drawing the remaining oxygen from your lungs. “I understand the other’s to an extent but Tina didn’t do anything wrong.” 

Joel looks towards Tommy, it was his kill after all and the older Miller had nothing to say about it. 

“She was wrecking what Maria is tryin’ so hard to build,” he answers. “She’s pregnant, stress ain’t good for her or the baby.” 

“Does. . . Does Maria—” 

Tommy cuts you off, “No.” 

Joel leans closer, mouth an inch away from yours as he parts his lips. “I killed for you,” You hate the way your body reacts to him, wanting to close the distance between you two despite how unsettled you feel. “Ian was a piece of shit, so was Tucker and Jacob. They don’t deserve your empathy, honey. And you can’t deny that you’re glad they’re gone.” 

His hair is a delightful mess. Soft locks going in every direction. All you want to do is thread your fingers within and forget about all of this. Joel’s gaze is observant, dark eyes darting all over your face. You don’t know what he sees but whatever it is, he nods to Tommy for him to let you go and he does. Legs lifeless and shaking, he catches you, his warmth welcoming. He’s still tender with you. Hands delicate as they move over your arms, shifting you so you'll be facing Tommy.

Joel’s hand curls around your neck and holds your chin so you can’t look away. You can’t read Tommy’s expression. You’re not sure what he’s feeling. However, you think he looks almost relieved that you’re not fighting anymore. 

You shudder as Joel drags his lips down your neck, taking deep breaths of your fear-induced scent. His hands slip under your shirt and cup both breaths, making you squeal. Your objection is short-lived when he brushes his thumbs over both nipples, awakening them with slow strokes. 

Tommy’s gaze drops to your chest. 

“He’s been watching you, you know,” Joel says. “When I had things to settle in town it was him who looked after you,” his voice drops, eyes observing his brother. “I think he deserves a bit of a show, don’t you think?” 

The whimper you let out is enough for Tommy to meet your gaze curiously. Joel smiles into your skin and your eyes widen as he pulls out a knife—a different one from the one he used on Jacob, you realize with relief. 

Your breath hitches as he slides the knife under your shirt and cuts your shirt clean from the middle, exposing you completely to his younger brother’s eyes. Sudden arousal pools between your legs and you clamp them together suddenly, the movement not unnoticed by either of them. 

“You like it when my brother watches?” he asks loud enough for Tommy to hear. “You got a little crush on him too, sweetheart, hmm? Don’t worry, he’s always goin’ to be lookin’ out for you. That’s what family does after all.” 

Your neck strains as Joel tilts your head suddenly, claiming your lips in a violent kiss. He doesn’t wait for you to part your lips for him and pushes his tongue into your mouth, licking the surprised sounds of pleasure right from your mouth. Your heart skips a beat. He presses the flat side of the knife against your warmed skin, the chill of metal settling in your bones. 

When he parts away, a string of saliva connects you still. “You’re mine aren’t you?” Joel groans, lips moving over yours. 

You nod in a daze and he smiles, “And I’m yours too,” he says. 

Your eyes meet Tommy momentarily, the younger Miller’s lips twitch in a half smile. He doesn’t say a word as he closes the distance. 

Tommy cradles your face tenderly,  urging you to come close as he envelopes your lips with his own, taking you by surprise. 

The kiss lacks the intensity compared to Joel’s. Tommy caresses your cheeks with both thumbs. You don’t even feel his tongue, it’s just a gradual movement of lips, a type of affirmation and comfort. 

“You’re one of us now,” he says pressing his forehead against yours. You don’t know how to react or what to say and you end up just nodding, your hands fisting his shirt. Him, parting away from you almost feels painful but you’re not sure why. Tommy gives you a smile and Joel a nod before he leaves. 

You and Joel stand like that for a while, in complete silence, bodies flushed together, knife still resting over your stomach. 

“I only did what was right,” he breaks the silence. His tone isn’t one of asking for forgiveness or understanding. His arms tighten around you. “Are you afraid of me?” he whispers into your ear, the thick hairs above his lips tickling the shell of your ear. 

You don’t answer him. 

“You don’t need to be,” he continues. He allows you to move within his arms, you want to see his face, you need to see him to not fear for your life. You ignore the knife grazing your skin as you turn around, your bare front snug against his chest. “I’ll never hurt you. And you’re the only person in this whole damn town that can say that. You and Ellie.” 

“What about Tommy?” 

“Tommy’s priorities lay elsewhere.” 

He doesn’t allow you to inquire further about what he means by that. All you can detect is a hint of anger that quickly dissipates when he claims your lips once more. 

You’re lost in him. His tongue captures you in a way that makes you forget the blood on his clothes—on his hands. His tongue slides against your own, pressing until you’re moaning into his mouth, your knees faltering at the knife smoothing down your skin. 

Before pushing you down to the ground, he takes off the shirt he cut in half completely off of you, your bra following the pile on the grass. Your breath hitches as he takes his place between your legs, his mouth devouring your neck, “Joel. . .” you moan, fisting his shirt and grinding up to feel at least a bit of friction. 

A silent laugh seeps into your skin, his breath sending shivers up your spine, “Do you still feel bad for them?” he teases, laying a wet kiss between your breasts. 

You don’t think much as you answer, “No.” 

And as a reward, Joel closes his lips over a nipple, sucking hard until your breathing goes ragged. 

“That’s my girl,” he groans, moving towards the other pebbled flesh. “You’re too good, too kind, but they don’t deserve that sweetheart.” 

He hooks his fingers into your belt loops and tugs down your jeans, laving you with soft, ticklish kisses as he moves lower and lower. When you’re completely bare to him, you have the urge to cover yourself, the grass tickles your back and the wind feels colder now. Joel smiles and pulls your arms away. He lays the knife right above your stomach and your breath hitches. 

“I want to taste you,” Joel says. “But not in the way you think, darlin’,” he kisses the sensitive skin right adobe your belly button, and brings the sharp edge of the knife to your skin. “I want to taste the life that pumps through your veins.” 

Your eyes widen as he nicks you. It’s a small cut and blood beads at the wound instantly. He doesn’t allow it to gather enough so that’ll trickle down, he quickly presses his lips against it, your essence coating his tongue as he gives it a tender suck. You can the blood leaving your veins, a pleasant tingle echoing from the wound and spreading throughout your body. Your eyes flutter, a moan escaping your lips as he flattens his tongue against the cut and licks with board strokes. 

“Fuckin’ delicious,” he rasps, pushing two fingers into you with ease. You gasp at the sudden stretch, your back arching into his touch. “So darn wet—All this for me, sunshine?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out, grinding down. “Joel, please—” 

You hear the sound of his belt buckle coming undone, his breath heavy in your ear, “Since you asked so nicely, sweetheart, I’m obliged.” 

You feel the head of his cock brush against your entrance, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. Your eyes close in anticipation and you whimper as he slowly slides inside you inch by inch. You can feel it, that intense fullness that can only come from him, taking his time to make sure it feels good. His size is intimidating but you feel yourself melting around him, eager and willing. 

“That’s it. . . you’re takin’ me so well, such a tight little hole for me. Fuckin’ amazin’.” 

He presses his forehead against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before thrusting, sending a wave of pleasure that makes your toes curl. You cling onto him for support as he pumps deeper and faster, hitting all the right spots. It takes neither of you long to climb the edge, ready to fall. You can feel the warmth of his breath, and his grip tightens on your hips. His pace quickens as the intensity builds, and you clench around him as he groans your name. 

“Gonna come inside,” he slurs his words. “Gonna fill you up—shit—” 

You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, his hard length contracting. As he pushes deeper into you, your insides flutter, squeezing around him. Your orgasm is ripped from you, shattering and mind-numbing. Your head spins and you cling to him, afraid that the world underneath you might slip entirely. His hot come warms you from the inside out, spilling from where his cock stretches you. 

Joel remains inside until he starts to soften. He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling a longing ache deep within your core. You shudder as his come trickles down your thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing. 

“Such a pretty sight,” he murmurs, entranced, as he gathers himself over his fingers and pushes it back inside you. “Try to keep as much as you can inside.” To emphasize his want for it, he slides your underwear up your legs. 

You’re tied to him now. And even though you shouldn’t, you enjoy being the one near the beast. Joel helps you dress, at least helps you with what remains, and gives you his leather jacket to wear since your shirt is in ruins. Neither of you says a word as you walk back to where Jacob’s body rests. You help him bury the body, not feeling a single thing; no grief, no remorse, no sadness. 

You always did have a complicated relationship with death after all. 

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #hauntedhoedown

[ioveskye]

Wonder | Leo Fitz x reader Prologue

A/N: Hey everyone, after more than a year I am finally going through with this series that I had planned. Since there is a lack of aos fics out there i wanted to make one myself. On my AO3 there is a version of this fanfic with my OC as well (in case you don’t want to read an x reader, its @ioveskye as well) Please let me know if you like the series and let me know if you want to be on the taglist.

"These are all the files the department could find about the experiments you requested." Lucia, the newly hired intern said to Y/n as she was handed the files she asked for. She smiled at the young girl and thanked her. Lucia made her way back to her own desk and Y/n immediately began to do her research.

Y/n L/n, a well-known detective all around the world. She has solved numerous mysteries and was even the first person to be right about the 'Thor theory'. A recent turn of events has caught the attention of the young detective lately which led her to read all the files that the department could find. Numerous hospitals in the area around Los Angeles all had encounters with patients that died of similar causes. The biggest pattern between these deaths was that the cause of death was never discovered. After some more digging Y/n found out that all the patients had all undergone special treatments at the same medical clinic.

Sadly that was as far as she got. An address. It wasn't a well-known clinic and they only specialized in physiotherapy (that's what the website said at least). So she decided to check it out to just 'ask some questions'. The moment she grabbed her gear however she was stopped by the ringing of her phone. It wasn't her work phone so she was very confused about why an anonymous caller was calling her. When she pressed accept she never would've believed to hear the voice of an old friend.

"Y/n L/N, it has been a while since we last spoke hasn't it?" The voice of Phil Coulson said at the other end of the line.

Y/n couldn't help but smirk. Of course, Phil Coulson would call her randomly after three years like it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Well well, Phil Coulson. In what do I owe the pleasure? Does S.H.I.E.L.D. need my help again with something?"

"You could say that. But it isn't just S.H.I.E.L.D. it's also a friend asking for a favor."

She turned to the two co-workers that were waiting for her at the side of her desk. She held her phone to her shoulder so she could talk to the two men. "Guys go back to your other assignments I don't think we'll be heading out for a while."They nodded at her and walked back to their own desks once again while Y/n turned her attention back to her phone.

"So, what kind of favor is this and how do I benefit from it." She asked the man with a smirk knowing damn well it didn't actually matter since she'd always help out.

"I've been setting up a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that are focused on missions with potential 0-8-4's. I think you're familiar with those right?" The line went quiet for a while, Coulson waiting for an affirmation that the young detective still remembered what he meant. When the girl hummed in familiarity the man continued. "Well, I hoped that you would be a part of that team. I know your last team up with S.H.I.E.L.D a few years ago didn't go as planned and that you've decided that working on your own was better but I hoped you could give us another chance. I think you'd be a great asset. If not for S.H.I.E.L.D then just as a consultant. I'd like to hear about your decision soon."

The girl sighed when Coulson didn't say anything else. Of course, she wanted to help Coulson with his team but teamwork wasn't something she was specialized in. The last time she went on a mission with S.H.I.E.L.D it went horribly wrong and she told herself she wouldn't make that mistake again. But now that Coulson asked for her help she couldn't refuse.

"All right, ill do it. But they better pay me for this."

"Don't worry, I've already made sure of that."

#agents of shield #aos #agents of shield x reader #leo fitz #leo fitz x reader #daisy johnson #daisy johnson x reader #jemma simmons #jemma simmons x reader #melinda may #melinda may x reader #phil coulson #phil coulson x reader #lance hunter #lance hunter x reader #bobbi morse #bobbi morse x reader #mcu #marvel #mcu x reader

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ strangers-to-lovers slowburn ♫

Chapter 1 drops Monday, January 29 @ 5:00 PM Eastern

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