#[jesus this is looong!]

[maddest-scientist-ms]

GUESS WHO'S BACK, BACK AGAIN, GUESS WHO'S BACK, BACK AGAIN, GUESS WHO'S GOT A NEW TABLET, AND IS BACK TO DRAWING, BACK AGAIN

[vampmilf]

like what was the nge theme so boppy for

[skysthesign]

obligatory single shitty photo

[ashlynlovestlou]

dildo warming with abby <3

synopsis: abby leaves your favorite dildo in all day, just to come home and fuck you later

cw: dom! abby , afab! reader , toy usage (duh) , pet names , abby refers to readers genitals as 'she' , cursing , extremely nsfw

inspired by this!!!

masterlist

daily click

you were woken up in the most pleasant way possible. you, being a light sleeper, felt abby tugging down your panties in the morning. she usually woke up early to get ready for work, and she normally didn't have time to fuck you properly when she had to get ready for her job.

"abby, what are you–"

"shh... go back to sleep, baby." she says, leaving you naked from the waist down. it's dark in your shared bedroom, but you can see her squeeze a bottle of lube over your favorite dildo, coating it nicely. she bends down over your core and runs the tip through your folds.

you whine in response, "abby, wha-" youre cut off when you feel the silicon cock slide into your cunt, your body twitching, "jesus– abs!"

"shh... baby, it's alright. don't take it out." she croons as she helps you pull up your clothes again, the dildo still enveloped by your warm cunt, "i promise i'll fuck you properly when i get home, m'kay?"

you still stare at her, confused but into it nonetheless. she kisses you sweetly before walking out the door to go to work.

︵✧₊︵︵ꕤ₊˚︵

by the time abby did get home from work, your cunt was a beyond a mess. you were gaping and wet just for her, and so goddamn sensitive from the hours you spent resisting the urge to bounce on it or ride it. but you knew that abby would be able to tell, so you were a good girl and left it alone.

you were on top of her as soon as she walked through the door, nearly knocking her over from the sheer desperation you had. the extreme need for her to fuck you.

"whoa there, baby." she laughs when she catches you in her big, bulky arms, "so desperate already, hm? were you a good girl?"

you nod rapidly, the response so quick it was borderline pathetic, "y-yes, abby. need you fuck me. please."

she smiles, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and putting her hand down the front. she feels the absolute mess she left you in your panties and she groans at the feeling, "shit, baby. wont even need to use my fingers first, hm? she's already ready for me."

'she' as in your cunt.

it made your stomach do flips the way she was talking about you.

"c'mon then, baby." she says, picking you up swiftly and carrying you to your shared bedroom, all the while pressing kisses to your neck and face.

the way she tosses you on the bed is almost barbaric, even more so when she strips you naked. she looks down between your legs, which you already had ever so graciously opened wide for her. she whistles lowly, smirking up at you, "should've done this a looong time ago, huh?"

"abby, stop teasing. i've been waiting all day for you to–" you're cut off abruptly when she takes the dildo out of your cunt. you let out a loud whine at the empty feeling.

she laughs, "i can see her twitching." she chokes out before cupping you. the simple touch makes you moan, and you try to rock your hips to get the friction you want, but she grabs your hips to stop you, "nuh-uh. let me get the strap first, then i'll make you feel good."

she swiftly walks over to the closet, and it's not long before she has the harness attached to her hips, the already shiny dildo from earlier attached to it.

she climbs on the bed again, the springs creaking under her weight. she lines up the toy with your entrance, but hesitates, "are you ready?"

you nod helplessly. if you waited another minute you swore your head would explode.

she bottoms out in one go, slipping into you faster than she wanted. but she laughs all the same, "jesus, baby, you really did need this, huh?"

you nod, tears threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes, "need more, abs. please."

she starts to move her hips, grinding and humping against your hips. she kisses your cheek sweetly over and over again, her hips snapping and slamming on you. the only sounds that filled the room were the combination of your wet juices and skin slapping on skin.

she pants recklessly, bringing her hand down to rub on your clit in hopes of relieving some of the pressure. it helps, and it doesn't. because it soothes the intense ache in your core, but it also makes you nearly scream at the top of your lungs.

you're coming within seconds, squirting a hot mess all over the surface of the bed, and abby. she chuckles, peppering soft little pecks all over your neck and face, "i love you." she croons softly.

"love you too." you mumble before dozing off completely.

[seenthisepisode]

misha collins, at a con, april 2022: so who's an introvert? who's an extravert? who's bisexual? hehe i'm all three hehee surely this won't have ANY consequences

also misha collins, 3 days later coming back from the abyss like jesus, on twitter: *looong apology that can be summed up like this:* look, actually, and it pains me to say so, but i am not, in fact, bisexual

warner brothers, on the phone, frantically:....haha... unless??? 👉👈

[takes1]

final part. one night stand aftermath with needy!tsukishima

sorry for the wait :0 this is a looong one. last installment! thanks for supporting ya'll. if you want more tsukki, just let me know

warnings. nsfw. minors DNI

details. fem!reader / rough sex / counter sex / porn with plot / flirting / one night stand aftermath / trust issues!reader / needy!tsukki / timeskip!tsukki / apartment setting / communication / a deal being made / 3.1k words

links. my masterlist. [part one, part two.] more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN.

Your breath grew shallow under the weight of his hand on your upper thigh.

It was funny, your confident, split-second choice not to wear anything under your skirt this evening suddenly all you could think about.

Tiny glances. To and from the glint of his glasses in the sunset, the dashes on the road zipping by as he took you back to his place, the tendons working on the top of his hand as he squeezed your supple flesh, hungry- though his eyes gave no indication.

His car was not impressive, but it was exceptionally clean and maintained well. It helped more than anything else, more than any of his mannerisms in particular, to put you at ease.

The first and last words you had exchanged was about the music about six minutes ago. It was kept at a low enough volume to talk over, but no such conversation got off the ground. So, it was quiet and you sat alert, tummy in knots (some good, some bad) with clammy palms and a racing heart.

This state of uncertainty didn't get much better as you made your way upstairs into his apartment.

Where was the kind-of-sweet guy working part-time at the museum? Every time you met him again, it was like his personality had done a complete 180 and you needed to relearn how to talk to him.

You both stood a moment in the doorway, slipping off your shoes. He grew about four inches taller and immeasurably more imposing. You caught a tiny smirk on his jaw.

"Why wear heels?" He asked, toneless.

You squinted across the entryway, careful to not be accusatory nor provide any reference of height to boost his ego, "Because they're cute."

When you decided he was attractive that Friday night, his height was secondary.

Tsukishima lingered for a moment, a faint smile on his mouth, all wrapped up in something you said or how you said it. He shook his head and walked towards the kitchen without inviting you.

Yeah, his height was trivial compared to the complexity behind his eyes.

Again, you were left wondering what to do- you followed, of course. But it was out of hesitant assumption and not because he made it easy.

His head turned away when you entered.

You didn't have time to guess if he was waiting or not before he asked, "Would you like anything?"

It was vague, but since this was the kitchen, you settled on water.

The way he sank and slid, slow and tedious from his spot to grab you a glass made you hold yourself in doubt. But, he was smiling.

"What's so funny?" You had to ask.

Worry was apparent on your brow. He couldn't see it turned around.

"You still don't trust me, do you?"

You couldn't clean up the shock on your face before he saw it. It was exactly what he was looking for, apparently. He still thought that was funny.

You struggled to craft a response that was both articulate and true, "I guess I don't. I don't know you."

It lingered in the air for a few seconds. In fact, those seconds felt so long that you began to question your choice to come here. You thought to exactly where you put your shoes.

He looked contemplative. He crossed his arms, but not to close himself off. "But we still fucked."

You laughed at him, at the absurdity.

"I know."

You repeated, shaking your head, "I- I know. What, are you trying to guilt trip me over leaving? I know I hurt your feelings, but I don't owe you anything."

The island separating you felt bigger.

He blew a breath, brow raised. You regretted saying it that way. He just made you nervous.

But he laughed again, "Jesus, uh..." He picked up your glass and closed the distance, arm up as a little surrender to your words, "I guess you're not wrong."

He settled next to you, side flush against you when he handed you the glass.

You stared at it, tapping, and considered your options. You opened your mouth and took a breath to apologize.

"Don't say sorry," He stated. He met your eyes for a moment, then shook his head with a little smile, "I like that."

Heat crawled up your neck and inspired you to down all the water in your hands. You set the empty glass aside and wiped your mouth with your forearm. He thought it was cute, but kept it to himself.

The facts were as out there as they were going to get for you; he didn't do one night stands, he was convinced he had met a 'nice girl' and took you home, got his feelings hurt when you left, he probably thought it was fate that you met at the museum, but... now, what did he want?

"I don't trust you either," He admitted, moving slow to pin you between his arms, against the counter.

His eyes gave you no indication of what he meant by that. He looked mean. Like he could really hurt you, or your feelings at a minimum.

A flash of apprehension spread across your face. You looked to the left and right, then back at him, who found your little panic charming.

His indescribable intensity was why, when he closed the distance to kiss you, you paused.

He sighed against you for a second, then slowly straightened out. It took you a second because you were dumbfounded by how out of place his sudden affection felt, but thought it preferable to his ominous and vague nature.

At least when he was kissing you, you didn't have to guess.

Before he could take your hesitation to heart, you stretched up, hands clasped on his shoulders, in his hair, to return it tenfold.

His tongue was familiar and his lips were comforting. He leaned into you, trapping you against the counter, but it steadied you both.

God, why didn't he start out with this?

A soft moan shared between your lips sent him spiralling- his hand clutched your waist, under your flimsy little shirt, and his thumb rubbed against your tummy, rendering you a little weak in the knees.

His body felt perfect against yours. No room for second guessing.

He parted for a moment, and you caught the strangest look in his eyes. An intensity that making out shouldn't have warranted- a pain that was beyond an overdue erection.

"I...ah, I can't-," You gasped between his extra kisses, "Figure you out-!" Your hand flew to support yourself when he lifted you off of your feet from your hips.

You locked your legs around his waist, and nearly missed when you grabbed for his shoulders. It didn't matter much, but it startled you. In your panicked searching, you couldn't even find the brown in his eyes.

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the feeling of you through his pants. That little no-underwear detail didn't go ignored earlier.

"Mmnyou don't have to," He muttered dismissively.

There was no chance to question further before he took your lips hostage once more, his hand firm against the back of your head.

Though logically, his evasiveness was concerning, it did nothing short of send an addictive current straight down your spine. Thinking grew tough, quickly.

His tongue was easier to deal with than your doubts. After all, you were always just a hook-up, anyway.

A squeak caught in your throat at the way he pushed you into the cold counter, the way he loomed over and blocked out the overhead light except for the tips of his golden hair, the way he made sure you didn't bump your head on the way down.

It was difficult returning his rough kisses. For the most part, you focused on just taking them instead, but that became nearly impossible when he started to roll his hips into yours.

Perfect, warm waves crashed over you and kept your legs heavy and weak. It was all you could do to keep up with him.

"F-uck," A choked sigh against the shell of your ear made you twitch, "I'm not gonna last for shit."

You giggled at his soft, disappointed admission. He put his face in the curve of your neck and wrapped his other arm around you. It was tight. Secure, as you rolled your hips over the outline of his cock.

"We'll go a few rounds tonight, yeah?" Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to sound.

A long inhale, taken from in your hair you couldn't help but notice, and he gave an approving hum against your neck in a long, tingly kiss.

He freed an arm to hold your wrists above your head, the other tracing up your shirt to tease your chest.

That little pout you gave him earned you a quick, rough kiss into more possessive ones all along the side of your neck- it paired well with the cruel pinching under your shirt and his heavy burden between your legs.

Soon, you were panting, dizzy and sweaty with just one thought in your head.

"You're-- ah-h, optimistic," He was just short of asking.

His little moan made your hips automatically buck- you couldn't wait around to take him again. His grip, once you expressed the desire to free yourself, was laughably light.

The metallic sounds of his belt coming undone and his zipper lowering percussed your sultry, sarcastic tone well, "Stop trying to figure me out."

Shuddery breath caught in his throat as you pulled him out. It hadn't been too long since the last time, objectively speaking, but the feeling of his warm cock in your hands was one you desperately missed.

It slowly started to feel more right after that.

You didn't have a grasp on who he was, what he wanted, what he was thinking- but when he pulls back to at least press a slow, longing kiss to your soaked pussy under your skirt, it feels right.

It feels simple. Something you were more comfortable with, more used to. Certainly an easier feeling to navigate than this serpentine man, holding you with devoted fingers, but staring you down like you had wronged him.

He got carried away, mouth sticky and hot around your aching clit, big hands shoved up your shirt to scour every inch of you he hadn't remembered well enough the first time. Now he'd never forget it.

"Mm-! Ok-ay, okay, please--," Your whine, your squirming, was tended to immediately.

His hand slid and covered so much of your neck, jaw- the whole side of your face, in fact, that you felt your skin burning underneath it. He smothered you in a wet, sloppy kiss.

When he pushed into you, you couldn't help but think of the first time.

"Oh-h," You seethed at his size, only finding that it made him grip you harder, like he was holding you together, scared you might break apart.

Your squeak at the sensation was higher, your eyes wider, as you found his gaze low and almost plaintive.

It was different from that night. You were both a little drunk, but still. He was excited, confident, more twitchy. Faster, in a lot of ways. It came across as rushed to you and it helped justify leaving when you did. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy the passion, or the absurdness of being carried up the stairs like that, but you figured he was a one-trick pony. Like most guys.

Now you felt like you were the one rushing things. He held you still by the fat of your hips when you tried to get some friction.

His kisses were softer. Deliberate and savored. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

He was perfect, beating slow and smooth between your thighs, your bodies intertwined like you wanted, but it left something to be desired. You wanted his expression to be that of lust, not whatever this was.

"What's- ah-h--, what's'wrong?" You whispered against his lips.

He pulled away to look at you, glancing around your features with that same pitiful look. Where was the passion? His charming, kinda mean, -but impressive, nonetheless- one liners?

"Do you want me?" Was a whisper right back, the mix of warmth and minty coolness in his breath a tingly shock across your face.

He didn't look in your eyes for very long once he realized the answer was not quite ready for him.

Scanning your body instead, he found many worthy things to distract himself with. Chief among them was in the form of making you take even longer to give him a response.

A gentle, slippery prodding around your clit made you gasp.

"Mm-! God," You whined, eyes rolled back as you fought to understand what he meant by that, "I want- ah-!..."

He was biting the inside of his lip with a quiet chuckle, memorizing your pretty frame twisting, writhing underneath him as you struggled to take him and get played with at the same time. Like a tired old art critic, waiting to understand the meaning of a masterpiece.

"I want you-," You sighed, luring his attention to your face again, "I- I want you to- tell me-,"

He finally laid off for a second, his hands instead grabbing at your hips to bring you further down on his cock. Your neck looked a little too plain, now that he was thinking about it. If you left, he wanted you to leave with something of his. He started working deep marks on your throat.

Your low, approving moan encouraged him.

You sighed, honest and plain, letting your nails scratch through his fluffy hair, "Tell me- you won't hurt me."

"I couldn't hurt'you," He quickly muttered against your bruising skin.

You were almost, not quite but almost, as fast. "Make me a deal, then."

He liked the sound of that. It was more practical than a promise. More real, something you could both risk for a perceived reward each. You didn't know it yet, but you really knew how to appeal to him.

His long fingers stretched over your thighs, lifting them to tease you a little from a different angle. Part of him wished he had waited to take you upstairs. You couldn't do much on the counter.

"I- ah, won't leave," You seethed as he stretched you out like that, brow furrowed at the addictive intensity, "As long as you don't hurt me."

The way he held your words in his head before he responded was unexpectedly attractive. Contemplative, he traded one of your thighs for your needy clit again and grinned at how you tightened around him.

"Deal," He leaned up to kiss you, like a handshake, of sorts.

If he kept this up, you wouldn't be able to last very long. You loved how he took care of you himself, and didn't leave you to figure out your own pleasure.

He clearly wanted to tick every box, make sure you noticed it, too, so that you could be grateful to him.

You were both smiling more after your little agreement.

Before you could get too lost in it, there was some low thudding just above you.

Everything stopped for a scary moment.

You instantly looked at him when you didn't understand the sound right away, for some sort of reassurance it was just the apartment settling, or a cat upstairs. His brow was still furrowed, concerned as he looked up, his eyes tracking the sound in the ceiling.

"What the hell is that?" You whispered, a little harsh, but justified.

His face fell seconds after your question was left hanging, unanswered. He looked defeated.

"My-," He sighed, grimacing as you adjusted under him, "My roommate, I... forgot he was here."

It seemed so stupid for a guy you pegged as so intelligent. The raw reaction in his eyes made it clear that fucking you right here wasn't deliberate.

Your body relaxed again. You were wholeheartedly glad it wasn't a criminal or a ghost. It made way for confusion as he started to explain that his roommate doesn't usually come out of his room at this time, but that you should both probably head upstairs anyway.

Though it pissed you off on the surface, it doubled down and validated the realization that he didn't have everything so figured out. Taking you on the counter wasn't something he sketched out and made a reality- he just wanted you that badly.

He tried to pull out, but you locked your legs around him so he couldn't move. His jaw worked, his eyes searching yours, his brows upturned. God, he looked like he'd fall apart like that.

Your chest tightened with shock and the raw, tingly pride that came with feeling special.

Your fingers laced around his neck; he didn't offer up any resistance as you pulled him in close.

Warm breath spilled across the side of his face. He couldn't help but lean into it.

"Well, don'tstop now," Egged him on; echoed in smaller, more desperate pleas the closer he fucked you to completion. When he was just beginning to think he could get any more obsessed with you.

His lids lowered at your words, his eyes rolling back in the sockets as he put the weight of his head in the nook of your collarbone.

Though he seemed to soften in the face, his thrusts got stronger. It felt like he was filling you up more and more, leaving you gasping and clawing at his wide shoulders.

"Mm-n-Ah! Fuck-!" You whined, with no regard for his roommate, while he shoved you off the edge.

Your orgasm was well-deserved- the delay, the conversation, made it that much more intense. You felt like you could actually start to trust this guy, so you let him have the best of you.

When he came, warm and sticky all over your tummy, you didn't even think about how your shirt and skirt were still half-on, meaning he had effectively ruined all the clothes you brought with you. Normally you'd be pissed off.

But you just wanted to watch him cum, too.

His little whiny noises he thought he had covered up were loud, his gasps and little curses flattering, leaving your head buzzing.

His body became heavier for a minute, now that he was tired, before he stood back up and pulled you with him.

Everything was quiet again, as you both looked to the ceiling, then at each other, and waited. No sound.

"Sorry," He mumbled, clumsy, reaching for his glasses so he could see how bad he ruined your outfit.

Now you took the time to notice the difference in how his glasses made him look; a little nerdier, a little cuter.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and put your forehead to his chin.

"I'll just steal some of your clothes, if that's okay with you."

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

series taglist!

thanks for supporting!

@little-stitious-studios @lord-hqcifer @sharkubi @imiqz

@hrts4hanniehae @fallenangelsthings @sunshinesx-264 @ushijimaschubbs

@andeechan @velmaer @sweetnans @whaleshark111 @ruecka

@lamiin @oikawaweon @kei-tsuki21 @tine1603 @animemensblog

my masterlist.

request more nsfw or sfw haikyuu or mha here: request box

[bbybhr]

Just wanted to write smut with old man logan cause my loooong looong fic about him is still in progress and they're refusing to sleep with each other...bummer huh?I just use my drabble card

MDNI "slightly dubcon with old man logan"

Old man logan is the kind of guy who loves his pillow princess, life was so hard on him that he found himself yearning for taking control, and you; his sweet little angel knows it pretty well because he reminded you that so many times.

when he's kneeling infront of you, eating you out,practically devouring you with his mouth while holding your hips in his rough calloused hand, his shoulders beneath your knees, holding your lower body in the air as he sucks at your sensitive clit, making you mewl in overstimulation, and when you do as much as try to move a little on his tongue so you could get rid of that knot in your stomach hoping to get off a little sooner , he would growl while still lapping at your sweet cunt but now with more force, his hand grabbing your hips tighter, bruising them, not wanting you to move, just lay down and take everything he gives you. It's an unspoken yet clear rule.

And when he's done with your now puffy nub, having you sobbing infront of him, he would slowly lower your legs... but don't take that breath of relief yet! He would straight up his leaned posture, still on his knees looking down at you, admiring the mess he made out of you.

"My beautiful fucking girl"

He would rasp out as his hand touch the wetness that you made on his beard than slowly leaning on you again grabbing your knees and forcefully parting them

"Not done yet,princess"

He rubs his index finger along your foldes coating them with your juice as he leans closer to your pussy

"Can't get enough...what have you done to me..."

He mumbles more to himself than you

You're trying to maintain your tears as your body jerks from the sensation of his finger

"Logan..."

You plead, your voice shaking

"Shh I know, I know"

He would say before slowly teasing your entrance with his middle finger slowly pushing it forward, feeling your hot and wet walls around his digit. He would touch your inside with the tip of his finger and soon enough finding that gummy spot inside of you and pushing on it.

"Found it..."

He voices with a mean tune as a loud moan skip you and you try to move away from his touch.

"Uh uh,there's no running my little bunny...take it"

He pushes his finger further in you, pressuring the same spot, his other hand moves up resting at your lower stomach and as soon as he pistons his finger inside you he would press it with a little force.

You moan and squirm under his touch, the only thing you could focus on is how his finger feels inside of you; and the sweet pressure on your stomach where the same knot of pleasure builds up and up and up again.

He would add another finger expecting you to take it like the good girl you are, now two fingers knuckle deep pumping inside of you as a string of "pleas pleas pleas" leaves your lips

"Please what darlin"

He would ask unbothered by your state having you right where he wants you

"Need... need you. Lo...please"

You beg him for what?you don't even know. Your mind clouded and your body feels like a bunch of nerves ending, feeling logan everywhere

"Need what sweetheart?need more?you greedy little slut"

His voice gruff and full of need to be inside of you but he could tolerate it, if he gets to see you like this a little more

"Just wanting my full fucking attention on you huh?Well I'm gonna make damn sure that you get it"

He places his thumb on your oversensitive nub starting to stroking it in circular motion, deliberately ignoring your plead to stop

"I know what you really fucking want darlin, this shit ain't work on me"

He says as he's hand on your stomach move up pinching your nipple twisting it between his two fingers, his other hand still working wonders, making you see stars and you moan his name almost as loud as a scream

"Jesus...music to my ears"

He mumbles before grabbing you by the back of your neck pulling your face close to his, folding you in half and smashing his lips on yours; growling at the sweet taste you leave on his tongue and how your delicate body trembles under him...one again the knot in your stomach snaps and the rush of hormones washes over you leaving your body weak.

"That's it doll...there we go"

He cooed on your lips before biting your shaking bottom lips and riding you down your high.

You're a fucking mess under him as he lay you on your back again,body full on display and covered in a thin layer of sweat, glowing under the dim light, you made a wet patch on his bed between your legs and your cheeks and lips are blushed, an absolute goddess in his eyes, his innocent little lamb ravaged by the big bad wolf that he is

At this point he can not take it any longer, just grabbing you by your side and manhandling you with ease so you can lay on your stomach

"Lo...logan no...no more, please...I can't"

You beg with no hope

"Well tough luck honey...I'm just getting started"

He takes out his waistband before grabbing your delicate wrists and tieing them with it, harshly tug on the end of it to make it fit, than without any patient unbuttoning his pants and taking his cock out

He'll place his hand around your stomach and lifting you up just enough...his palm placed on your lower stomach yet again, with his other hand he guid his cock through your foldes, closing his eyes from the pleasure of the contact before he tease the tip in you making you cry harder from pain and pleasure

His hand than came up of your back, caressing the skin before going through your hair and pushing your head in the mattress as his tip rest inside of you, your walls pulsing around it repeatedly, a deep growl skipping from his chest at the feeling

"So perfect for your old man aren't you?now deep breath...Big stretch"

He talks you through it while pounding into you like a man possessed, at one point grabbing your neck again and pulling you so your back leans on his chest while the pathetic sound of "uhuhuhuh" skips you, one hand choking you and the other still on your stomach feeling the bulge he makes every time he fucks into you

"My perfect little toy...mine to fuck...mine to destroy"

He whispers in your ears before biting on it and that's the last thing you remember tomorrow when you wake up in his strong arms caging you

[formylovetodaryldixon]

“When you finally came back.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

After escaping from the saviors, Daryl and you finally meet again to stay together this time. And there, alone, your husband gives you a letter that perhaps expresses a little of what you mean to him.

A/N: This is an imagine I wrote looong time ago. This is literally my second try to write smut, but I don't do it often because I feel i can't express properly how the characters feel :( But I tried, so I hope you like it AND the letter Daryl gives to you. Thank you!

We’ll find a way to get you back. Okay? Just be strong, please. The only thing he can’t take away from you is your strength. So you just have to prove them you are stronger than them.”

With the light steps of a professional hunter, like the most dangerous and silent animal, that predator that doesn't make the slightest noise before catching its prey, Daryl walks through the empty halls, in the middle of those cold and gray walls. The small chance of escaping from that place is shaped as a key, hiding in the pocket of the trousers he stole from Dwight’s room, not without destroying his carved figurines on the table first. Daryl is agile to avoid the saviors, deathly silent as he takes that pipe, running down the last aisle before turning in the right corner to leave the place, hiding his face under a cap.

Finally, Daryl opens the door to get out of the building, running to the first bike on the line full of them.

“What the hell…” Fat Joey looks at Daryl, who looks at him back, holding a calm, but completely threatening look. “Wow. Wow…” Joey drops the half of his sandwich and raises his hands in the air, just to show he is harmless. “It’s cool. I swear…”

Daryl approaches him, slowly, his gaze fixed on the frightened prey in front of him.

“Buddy, you can walk down that back gate there and I won’t say anything to anybody. I’m supposed to be there now, but… listen… I… I’m just trying to get by, just like you… Please…”

But, with a contained fury that surpasses human strength, Daryl lifts the pipe and smashes it into Joey’s head, again and again, and again. He remembers the brutality with which he was treated, the fear, and the anger that explodes inside him right there, letting out all the pain in the most inhuman way possible.

Turning around the corner, Jesus runs to him from behind some trucks, stopping at the bloody commotion.

“Daryl…” Jesus says, but Daryl doesn’t stop while the blood splashes on his clothes and part of his face. “Daryl!”

Like being pulled out of a trance, Daryl finally stops, looking at what is left of Joey.

“He was jus' walkin’ by here… but it ain’t 'bout gettin’ by.” He breathes out, dropping the pipe. Rick’s gun is hanging from Joey’s waist and Daryl takes it, straightening up himself to look at Jesus. “Ya know anythin’ 'bout ma wife?”

“Yeah. Carl said she’s fine so don’t worry. You will be with (Y/N) again very soon.” Jesus looks at Joey quickly before looking back at Daryl, still surprised by what had happened.

Daryl nods absently, thinking about you as he walks again to the bike.

“I got the key. Let’s go.”

As the others enter the Hilltop through the tall wood gates, your owl brooch slips from your shaky hand in the middle of your way. You are nervous, and you stop yourself to pick it up. The brooch has two silver owls sitting on a branch, and it might have been cheesy if you had received it in the old world you used to live in, and although Daryl said that too when he gave it to you, the gift was a reminder of him.

Finally, you walk through the open gates, but stopping yourself again as you hold the brooch a little harder when you see Daryl pulling away from Rick’s hug when he looks at you. Rick smiles before patting his best friend’s back so Daryl can walk to you, without stopping for a single second. You feel the tingling in your chest, something moving inside you, like the flapping of thousands of butterflies. Then, he picks you up from the ground, taking you in a warm embrace as you wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck as his strong arms around your back hold you tight. Still holding the brooch, you hide your face in the crook of his neck as you feel a total relief to see him safe.

A breath of air for the times you two stopped breathing, hearts beating again for the times they stopped beating, bodies aching for the time you two were apart.

“I made it, peach.” Daryl says, breathless, pulling apart just a little to look into your eyes. “I made it thanks to ya.”

But you shake your head, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

“You made it because you’re strong.”

Then, Daryl smiles softly, finally in peace before kissing you.

After the failed attempt to convince Gregory to fight against Negan, fighting against the urge to shoot him when he found a polite way to tell you all to go to hell, while using the back door of the Hilltop, you all go to see King Ezekiel looking for help, guided by Jesus and his good intentions, but that doesn’t work either. King Ezekiel wanted to give asylum to Daryl, but he rejected it believing that the lack of strength from the king against the saviors wasn’t going to help you all beat Negan and his sadistic people.

It was a waste of time for Daryl, so with all of you standing in the middle of the street in the Kingdom, he puts his hand on your lower back to make you turn, pulling you with him to get out of there. One by one, the group walk to the exit too, plunging into a new kind of disappointment.

“Hey. Open it up!” Daryl says to the man in charge of the front doors. “We’re gone.”

The gates make a metallic sound and it opens for the group who walk out of there.

“You’re not.” Rick says to Daryl, and in the middle of his confusion, Daryl takes your hand to stop you.

“I ain’t stayin’ here.” He says looking at Rick, his accent getting thick, his voice deep but full of frustration.

“You have to. It’s the smartest play. You know it is.” Rick places his hand on Daryl's shoulder, trying to tell him with words and a kind look that this is what he had to do. “Try to talk to Ezekiel. Whatever it takes. We’ll be back soon.” Rick walks out of the kingdom, looking at you both before the doors closed. “We’ll come back for you two.”

Alone in that unfamiliar place, Morgan guides you two to a room so you both can rest. Your spirit is more tired than your body, so you say thank you before following him, with Daryl taking your hand to let himself be guided as well.

Uneasy with the lack of support, but not wanting to say anything because more negativity is not going to help save the situation, you lie back in bed on your right side, kicking your boots off first, head on the pillow, your disappointed gaze lost in the window. Daryl closes the door, locking it before approaching the bed as well, taking his boots off as well before lying on his side so he could look you in the eyes this time.

"We will going to be okay, right?" You ask, in a small voice.

His hand looks for the warm of your body, your soft skin under your black t–shirt, smiling at the contact he missed so much.

"We will, peach."

The sunlight comes in, the garden is green on the outside, people’s voice passing by the building, thinking they will be safe forever. Even if Daryl doesn’t want to stay there he had to. It was necessary for him to be safe from the saviors. However, now, he seems to enjoy your hand massaging his hair. His eyes are closed, grunting softly once in a while every time you touch a good spot. Everything seems to be okay when the world is as quiet as it is right now, without the endless grunting of the walkers, nor Negan’s voice that had no mercy.

“Stop thinkin’ 'bout it, peach.” Daryl says softly, opening his eyes again, taking your hand away from his hair to hold it in his. “We’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

He watches the ring in your finger, the place where it belonged to, and then, Daryl finally looks at you for real. This time, for a moment at least, there is not a shred of shame in his gaze, exposing himself completely to you, as he did every time you two were alone, because it was easy for him to be who he really was with you. Your love was the kind of love he never thought he would get, or deserved, but there you are now: loving him like no one else ever did.

“I got somethin’ for ya…” His hand leaves yours, looking in the back pocket of his pants. But suddenly, it is as if a feeling of vulnerability comes over him as Daryl pulls a folded sheet of paper, handing it to you as his blue eyes sparkle with a new kind of shyness. “S’somethin’ I wrote for ya… ’bout ya, actually.”

You smile at him before looking at the paper, but without opening it yet. You know Daryl never was good with words, even when there was so much he wanted to tell you, so you understand that he decided to write those feelings down. But they weren't even a quarter of what he really felt for you.

“Can I read it now?” You look at him kindly, giving him the option to be there or not if he wasn't comfortable with it. "If not, I can wait until I'm alone."

“Ya can read it.” He gets closer to you, pushing you softly for you to lay on your back, climbing on you, his nose brushing your skin as he starts kissing your neck, his hand caressing your side. “I'll entertain myself with somethin’ else.”

You love the sudden hot feeling, the tickling between your legs in anticipation, the need to have him close again.

“That’s not fair, you asshole.” You chuckle, trying your best to read the letter.

Daryl loves the aggression, chuckling too against your skin as he pulls himself lower, just to meet your most sensitive and still covered area. His hands look for the bottom and the zipper of your jeans, pushing them out of you with your underwear lock in his fingers. You try very hard to concentrate on reading, trying to understand the messy words on the paper, but when Daryl buries his face into you without a warning, just to devour you completely, earning a moan form your closed lips, it is impossible to do so.

His hot tongue moves against you, kissing and licking and sucking, sending a vibration with the low grunt he makes and that travels through your entire body, so intense that you have to hold onto his long hair to keep your balance, so that your bent legs wouldn't give in with everything he’s giving you.

Your back arches, overwhelmed with the thousands of different sensations that hits you right there. The cold air mixes with the heat emanating from his tongue, as hot as your body starts to be, so hot that you think it is hell itself. The view of the roof is replaced with darkness behind your closed eyes, mouth finally open as the pleasure is starting to make you see stars.

For a second, you think he can make you come with just that, just like the previous times he did it, but now it is because it had been a while since you two made love, your body extremely sensitive to his touch. And right there, your sex is throbbing painfully, waiting impatiently for him to be inside you.

“Daryl, please…”

He can hear the plea in your voice, so full of desire that he can feel it right in his hard member. Daryl licks and tastes one more time, his warm hands holding your hips, pulling you closer to his mouth to get you ready. Daryl loved that feeling every time he ate you out, to know only he could take you so high with only his tongue, listening to those sinful sounds from your precious mouth, but as he rises on his knees, his hands catching the buttons of his shirt to remove it, Daryl and his ego love the view of you.

“Take off yer t–shirt.” He says low, and it is not a warning but a promise. “This ain’t over yet, peach.”

You lick your lip but you do as he says, sitting on the bed before taking the t–shirt out of your body, your bra next, with him loving the view of your naked and soft flesh. But as he finishes the last bottoms and while feeling bold, you lean forward, your hands finding the belt of his pants, mouth close but holding an innocent smile as you undo it.

“Only ya can be hot and cute at the same time, woman.” Daryl grunts. “Now lay back and lemme feel what I've been missin’ all this time.”

You lay back down, watching your husband take off his pants and his boxers, like the hottest imagine in the whole world. Daryl is hot, with his broad shoulders, the tattoo in his chest, his strong arms, calloused hands that always touch you softly. And when he is completely naked, he lays on top of you, feeling the beating of your heart in his own body, with you bending your legs at each side of his waist and hips, feeling him pushing himself inside of you.

He is thick, and he fills you completely, reaching places you are dying to feel him, and then, your moans and his grunts are silenced when he kisses you, finally moving. Your hips receive the movement of his, pushing himself even deeper, one hand on your cheek, the other holding himself at the side of your body.

You feel his length beating inside you, your walls squeezing around him, making him grunt against your parted lips. The feeling inside you intensifies with the minutes, with the swaying of his body and yours, your hands hugging his back, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

Daryl rests his forehead against yours, breathing through his parted lips.

“That feels good?” He asks, and you nod, drowned in the sensation to form a word. “Lemme feel ya, peach. I really need ya right now.”

He chokes with his own words, looking at you with eyes full of lust, between the strands of hair that fall over his forehead, but when you think that can’t get any hotter, Daryl brings two of his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them before pressing them against your clit, rubbing the area, hard and fast, causing you to cry his name.

And he fucking loves that. He would gladly drown in your voice calling his name.

The sensations and the sounds are making him mad as he feels close to his climax, pressing himself into you even harder, deeper and faster when he feels your inner walls clenching against him. You feel close too, and it takes you seconds to finally cum letting out a cry, feeling him release inside of you with one long push.

Daryl buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily, moving slowly as you two enjoy the hot feeling leaving your bodies. You stroke his hair for a while, just to give him some comfort.

And after a while, he pulls away to look at you, so close you feel his nose brushing yours, with him smiling at the contact. Daryl strokes your cheek softly, making you smile too. His touch is always soft, it is sincere, just like his love for you.

“I love ya, Mrs. Dixon. Yer the only one for me and it’ll be like that for the rest of ma life.”

After saying that, Daryl presses his lips against yours, and it melts you like honey, so sweet like his love for you. He came back to you to stay for real this time, and as he falls sleep on his side after a while, dressed again, pressing his body against yours, you take the letter which was forgotten next to the pillow.

His handwriting was always messy, and you used to tease him about it, but now, it makes you hold the air inside your body as you start reading.

Ma lil’ angel:

Awake or when I can sleep, I’m always dreamin’ ‘bout ya. Sometimes, I dream ‘bout meetin’ ya in the old world. I wish I could have found ya there. Our life together wouldn't have been perfect but I’d have worked hard to give ya all the things ya deserved, I’d have done everythin’ to make ya the happiest woman in the world. I know someone like me couldn’t have offered ya much in that world, fuck, I can’t offer ya much in this one either, but I promised ya I’d protect ya from everythin’ and Imma keep ma word, ‘cause now I can’t live without ya. Ya always were a sweet thing to look at, and even when Carol used to make fun of me when she caught me doin’ it, I couldn’t stop. But even now, when in ma mind I see the ring in yer finger, I still can’t believe ya’re really ma wife. I never told ya this, but when ya said yes, I promised God I would never let ya go. And now, ya’re stuck with me forever ‘cause thanks to ya I started livin’ and not jus’ survivin’. So yeah, ya’re ma life, ya are the peace, the sun, the moon and all the fuckin’ stars in the diamond sky as ya call it.

It was nice to find someone who loves me like ya do, even with ma temper. I love ya, peach, so much, and I’m sorry I don’ say it often. Ya know I’m bad with words, but I’ll try to be better.

Yours, Daryl Dixon.

@fluffy-dixon

[scarofthewind]

okay i know this sounds nuts but yk the whole supporting from under the desk sex trope ??? what abt that with vincent or tommy ??? like bj while they are working ??? somewhat crack prompt BUT i was convinced i was the smartest person ever thinking of this

A/N: this is sooooo hot omg! Also, this request was from a looong time ago so I apologize for the late response.

Warnings: oral m!receiving, cum eating, deepthroating, slight asphyxiation

Thomas Hewitt: “What are you doing?” Thomas’ deep voice came out in a curious grunt as he watched you shuffle around him and under his work bench. “The floor is filthy-“

“That is what baths are for.” You quipped, looking up at him from your place on your knees. “Just keep working- ignore that I’m even here.” You smiled coyly, reaching up and unbuckling Thomas’ pants, opening his fly just enough to reach into his boxers and pull his cock out.

“What are you doing!” He grumbles, snatching your wrist and looking towards the door to the basement. “We could get caught.” Thomas presses, thinking about Luda Mae and Monty who were in the house.

“Isn’t that the fun part?” You sighed, shaking his hand off and spitting in your palm. Thomas mumbled a soft ‘Jesus Christ’ before you spread your saliva along his cock, pumping it gently and letting it grow hard in your hand. “Just focus on your work.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes as you pressed his tip against your lips.

In no world was Thomas going to focus on cutting up some random persons torso with your heavenly mouth on his cock. He tried, getting to the point where he was just about to slam the cleaver down but you took his cock so deep that he had to grip the table for balance. “Fuck,” he growled, tossing the weapon to the side and looking down at you. “Filthy fucking woman,” he groaned, gripping your hair and tugging you forward, his cock nestling in your throat as he held you there for a moment. Thomas waited until there were tears in your eyes before pulling you off his cock, saliva dripping from the tip and your lips as you gasped for air.

“Again,” you panted, gripping the fabric of his pant legs as he titled his head at you. “Please,” you asked and he obliged, bringing you down on his cock again and letting your throat constrict around him.

“You look so pretty like this,” Thomas said, brushing a few tears from your eyes before pulling you back just enough and then slowly thrusting into your mouth.

Your tongue traced the underside of his cock as you bobbed your head along with his motions. You could feel his cock pulse, a sign he was getting close and you moved faster. “Want my cum down your throat baby?” He groans, hips stuttering as he nears his climax.

All it took was a moan of confirmation from you and he was spent, his cum shooting down your throat and your eyes watering as you did your best to swallow it all. Once he stopped moving and let go of your hair, you made sure to clean his cock off before pulling away with a lewd ‘pop’. “Wasn’t that fun?” You said, standing up and tucking his member away.

A rough hand came to your neck and Thomas yanked you forward, pressing his mouth on yours. “Very, now hop up, it’s your turn.” He smirked as he pulled away, tapping the table behind you. Your eyes looked to the bloody table and the torso on it before looking back at him in disbelief. “That’s what baths are for, right?” He grinned wolfishly and hoisted you up.

[tlouadditc]

smoking with roommate!ellie... a thought.

song being thought of while writing: hold on by the internet

WARNINGS: smut [18+, MDNI], fluff if u squint ur eyes, drug use [weed], awkward convo with ellie LMAO, ellie is a horny stoner, fingering, oral [r!receiving], jealousy, love confession. pet names (mostly baby and princess) words: 1.7k, rating: MATURE

note: this is like my first smut [not to mention my first fic] so erm if there are grammar errors or some parts that dont make sense im sorry 😭😭😭 enjoy!

it's been a long week; essay after essay, multiple assignments to turn in, and now you have 3 tests in the next 2 days. you had walked home in the rain, not even bothering to pull out your umbrella. fuck it, you thought, my dorm isn't that far.

you lazily pulled out your keys, unlocking the front door. as soon as you open the door, you're met with a pungent- well, that's harsh; a not-so-pleasant- smell of weed and a random fruity ass candle. you cough and look around to see who the hell is smoking he-

"oh, hey, y/n." ellie was sitting on the couch, manspreading in front of the tv while smoking a blunt. her eyelids were heavy and she had a smug smile. "oh, uh. sorry about the smell.. i took a random candle."

you set your bags down and took your shoes off, waving your hand in front of your face to remove the smell temporarily. "all.. all good." god, she looks good, you thought. she was sitting in a white wifebeater and loose sweatshorts, sitting just right on her hips so you could see her boxers. the way she was looking at you and smiling made your face heat up, thinking thoughts no roommate should think.

she took another drag and patted beside her, signaling for you to join her. you quickly shook your head and said, "gotta change. i got soaked out there."

"i coulda picked you up, babe."

babe? your face was burning hot now as if it wasn't already. you hurriedly walked to your room, blurting out, "i'll be there in a second!"

jesus. ellie had never been this.. flirty before. you've liked her for a while, if you're being kinda honest. you had been in love, if you were completely honest with yourself. she had always been on your mind ever since you moved in with her. walking around, just in boxers and some tank-top that made her arms look deliciously toned- god, she probably doesn't even know what she does to you.

shaking your head, you change out of your completely wet clothes and into some thin shorts and a crop top before walking back out.

"took ya long enough," she said, chuckling. "i was about to just go to sleep."

"sorry, els." you sat beside her on the couch, looking at what was on tv. "american dad? really?"

"i just turned on the tv," she muttered, passing you the blunt. "how was your day?"

you took the blunt into your mouth, taking a looong drag and inhaling, burning your throat slightly. "same old shit," you exhaled. "im just glad this stressful ass week is over."

"stressful, eh? im glad i decided to do this tonight then," she said, turning her attention from the tv onto you.

"me, too."

"sooo," she started, "how are you and whats-his-name?"

"what about him?" you questioned, noticing a slight change in her demeanor when you immediately remembered him. "we're.. not dating. nothing's goin' on."

"what's going on with y'all? i thought you guys were going on dates n' stuff." she sat up, suddenly all in on your relationship status.

"uhm.. it's not him. he's a great person. it's just.." you slightly glanced at her. she was looking like she was anticipating the rest of your sentence.

"the sex is awful," you admit. it was the truth, but not the whole truth; the entire time he was trying to fuck you, you were thinking about ellie. he clearly was only thinking about his own orgasm. whenever he did attempt to do something for you, he either gave up or you had to fake it so he got off of you. he always came before you did. ellie probably wouldn't do any of this, you would think to yourself before making yourself cum after he left.

ellie looks at you, wide eyed, and chuckles. "what?" you ask, defensive.

"i mean.. you wouldn't have thought the dude was a sex god," she mumbled. "he was the nerdiest dude known to man."

"i- i know," you utter, slightly embarrassed. "i don't wanna talk about it anymo-"

"did he make you cum at all?"

your jaw drops, in shock of what she just said. "uh.. no. not at all."

"jesus, you should've told me earlier," she sighs, looking at you with concern- and something else. "i could've helped y'all. or just you."

you don't know if it's just the weed or true feelings coming out of her mouth, but you swear you can feel her staring at your body, feel her moving closer. you slowly put the blunt down in the ashtray and make eye-contact with ellie.

"you know, y/n," she whispers, "i've always wondered why you would go out with these dudes and i'm right here. i see the way you look at me- hell, i've heard you fucking yourself."

your face heats up, quickly embarrassing you. "i- i'm sorry, el-"

you're suddenly cut off by ellie meeting her lips with yours. the kiss is passionate- you can feel the true feelings from ellie, feel the frustration from being ignored. you straddle her crotch, still kissing, slightly rocking back and forth. the friction from your shorts and her crotch has you soaked, whimpering a little into her mouth. she chuckles into the kiss before separating for air. "so needy already," she breathes, gliding her hands from your face, down your sides, and onto the meat of your thighs, rubbing up and down. you slightly nod, looking down, feeling slightly embarrassed of how you look right now.

"hey, look at me." one hand moves from your thigh up to your chin, making you meet eyes with her. ellie's eyes had looked different- darker, in a sense. the way she was looking at you made you wetter than ever before, wondering what she wanted to do with you. "how about we take out some of that stress, yea?"

her hands snaked under your crop top, her warm fingertips meeting your hardened nipples. she smirked. "no bra? you're gonna kill me." taking off your top slowly, her breath hitched. "god." she took one nipple into her mouth, pinching the other one in between her pointer finger and thumb. "els- fuck," you moaned, grinding on her lap. the wet spot in your panties definitely went through your shorts by now. "you're making a mess all over me, pretty girl," she cooed, still pinching your nipple. "tell me what you want."

"i- i want you," you cried, overstimulated by the sensation on your breasts. she let go of your nipple with a loud pop and let go of your nipple, making you whine from the loss of contact. "use your words. cmon, i know you can do it, princess." she sat back, waiting for your response. "p-please.. touch me," you utter, still slightly grinding on her lap.

"good girl," she purrs. she runs her calloused hands from the tops of your breasts down your sides and on the band of your shorts. "let's get these off."

she moves you off of her and slowly peels your shorts off, quietly gasping when she notices the pool of arousal in your lacy panties. "shit, i got you this wet from barely touching you?" she coos, cracking a small smile when she sees how embarrassed you are. "so cute." she runs her pointer finger over your clothed slit, earning a small wail out of you. applying pressure little by little, she watches you as you grow sexually frustrated by the second. "what's wrong, bun? you wanted me to touch you, right?"

"i need m-more, please- oh my god," you cry out, throwing your head back when she rubs small circles on your clit. she applies more and more pressure, making you feel your orgasm build up in the pit of your stomach. "ellie," you loudly moan, arching your back. she's watching you, taking in every feature of your face. she takes note of the way your eyes roll back at every circle she makes. the way your hands pinch your nipples, trying to replicate what she was doing to you. watching you get off makes her even wetter. she mumbles,"fuck it," before basically ripping off your panties off.

"what a pretty pussy," she says, voice barely above a whisper. you can't tell if she's talking to you or to herself, but she studies you; the puffy lips, how it's glistening with slick, how you leak onto the couch- everything. she runs her middle finger along your aching hole, gathering slick on it, then slowly inserts it. you gasp, gummy walls fluttering around the foreign item. she slowly moves in and out, in and out- lewd squelching sounds fill the room. "pleasepleaseplease," you babble, becoming breathless from arousal. "what, baby?" ellie comes up, planting small kisses on your collarbone. with no warning, she adds her ring finger, stretching your entrance and making you weep in her ear.

"els- m'gonna c-cum-" you sob, holding onto her shoulders. she picks up speed, watching you lose your mind. "yeah?" she murmurs, now adding her thumb to rub your bud. "cum on my fingers, princess."

you convulse around her fingers, walls contracting and expanding. your orgasm is blinding- it causes your legs to shake out of control, you loudly moan her name, holding onto her shoulders. she talks you through it; lots of "i know baby, i know"s and "I'm here, angel"'s. once your done, she removes her fingers. "open up," she says, shoving her cum-covered fingers into your mouth. you automatically suck on them, looking into her emerald eyes with innocence. "good girl."

"uhm.. t-thank you, els," you start, moving your hand over her clothed cunt. "let me touch you."

she flashed a small smile before saying, "i'm okay, baby. get some rest." before you could protest, she got up and planted a kiss on your forehead. "let's get you to bed, princess."

PART 2

[l0relaii]

Sigh need 6'3 chris with SHORT short reader im talking like 5ft-5'3 as a 5'3 gal i could use some smutty stuff with Chris being a full foot taller than me AHG

i'm 5'3 as well bitch we twininn. i need my men so tall that i can suck it while standing up 🫠🫠

i need chris sm. he's so tall and broad and strong i want to look up at him like he's a fucking tree christ THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE is killing me rn

i once had this guy friend that would rest his arm on my head and tease me idk why but it turned me on sm i n e e d chris to do that to me

"chris stop, what the fuck are you doing?"

"hm? did you say something babe? can't hear you from all the way down there"

"you jerk"

"whatchu gonna do about it, huh?"

"oh i'll show ya"

always trying to spook him by jumping on his back from behind trying to reach his neck for support, standing on your toes when trying to kiss him and he's teasing you lifting his head up making it impossible to reach him

he's always towering over you, looking down at you through his lenses and smirking while leaning down to kiss you

"jesus my back's going to kill me if i keep doing this"

"oh shut up and kiss me christopher"

"yes ma'am"

TALL MEN KNEELING DOWN FUUUCK imagine chris on his knees eating you out jesus i'd melt right there

his legs are so looong and strong jeez when you're riding him and he arches his knees behind you you can just lean back on them giving him the perfect view of his cock going in and out of you

now.. imagine him pushing you against the wall and shoving his knee between your legs lifting you onto his thigh while making out with you

ajajajsj😵‍💫😵‍💫

[tightjeansjavi]

In the Warmth of Your Love

part II of Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Chapter one | “can’t quit you, baby”

A/N: to kick off my 1 year celebration of writing fic…we’re going right back to my roots! 🤭 to my devoted Gwen & Joel fans, this one is for y’all! I wrote this back in October after taking a looong hiatus from the series. The original path was to pick up on chapter 17 and continue to follow the path of the show. I decided that trying to essentially rewrite the events that take place after Bill & Franks episode was just too much for me to handle. I knew I wanted to continue Joel & Gwen’s story, but I didn’t know what that would end up looking like!

In the Warmth of Your Love takes place after the events in the hospital.

~word count: 3.1k~

Summary: a glimpse into your new life in Jackson with Joel.

Pairing | joel miller x f!oc

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, established relationship, found family, age gap, (oc is in her early 30’s and Joel is in his 50’s) unprotected piv, pining, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic intimacy, they’re so in love it hurts, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

“Swear to me.”

“Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true, Joel.”

“I swear.”

_

6 months had passed since you and Joel murdered every single Firefly in the Salt Lake City hospital. 6 months since Joel swore to Ellie that everything he told her about the Fireflies was true. That they had stopped looking for a cure, and raiders attacked the hospital. That there were more people like Ellie that were immune.

It was all a lie. One that you and Joel carried on your shoulders everyday. As Ellie’s guardians, you and Joel made the decision that you both felt was the right one.

“Jesus fuck, Joel. What the hell did you do?” Tommy asked his brother the day after the three of you showed back up on Jackson’s doorstep.

“I did what I had to do. I protected her. I saved her. I killed every last person that stood in the way of me getting to Ellie. They were going to kill her, Tommy. They were going to kill her and I—we couldn’t let that happen. Ellie didn’t want to die. I know she didn’t because she fuckin’ told me before we were ambushed. I killed Marlene. I killed the doctor who was going to perform the surgery. I killed them all.” Joel admitted.

Tommy scrubbed a hand down his face with a heavy sigh as he sank back against the chair. “And Gwen? What was her role in all of this?”

“She killed them too. We did it together.”

“Does..Ellie know the truth?” Tommy already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from Joel’s mouth first.

“No, she doesn’t. And she never will know what happened in that hospital. She can live her life the way she deserves to. She can make friends and be happy for once in her fuckin’ life.”

“Joel, I can’t have two murders livin’ in town. Maria won’t stand for it, and you know that brother.”

“Tommy, please. I’m your brother, for fuck’s sake. Gwen and I only did what we felt was right. Wouldn’t you do the same if it was your kid? You don’t have to tell Maria the truth. Don’t we deserve a second chance at peace too?”

“It doesn’t matter what the fuck I would have done in that situation Joel! You—you fucking murdered an entire hospital of Fireflies! This town doesn’t condone violence, and if anyone were to ever find out—”

Joel was leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped together as he looked at his brother, right in his eyes with pure desperation in his deep brown irises. “I’ll be carryin’ that burden for the rest of my fuckin’ days. You’ve killed people too, Tommy. Just because you’ve been living here with a loving wife, and a baby on the way, doesn’t mean that the blood on your own goddamn hands gets erased. Listen to me, okay? Gwen is a good fucking person. She’s got a huge heart and she deserves a second chance too. She’s good with horses, and I can help you with any of the heavy lifting shit that gets done around here. Please, Tommy. Please let us stay.”

Tommy stared right back at his brother and deep down he knew he couldn’t turn him away, no matter how hard he tried.

“Okay. All three of you can stay, under one condition. You never, and I mean never speak about what happened at that hospital to anyone. You hear me Joel? Never.”

“I swear on my life that I will never speak about it again. You have my word Tommy.”

_

Maria was no idiot and Tommy knew this all too well about his wife. “They’ll stay in the house they were in the last time they came through here. Joel said that Gwen has worked with horses before and can help out around the stables, and Joel can help me with fixin’ things ‘round here. He’s really good with that stuff.”

“We have enough mouths to feed as it is Tommy. I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Maria, Joel is my brother. He’s been through hell, all three of them have. I’m not going to turn them away so can we please come up with a compromise here?”

“Fine. I just don’t want Joel or Gwen near any weapons. If they’re going to live here, then they’re going to abide by our rules. Ellie will go to school with the rest of the kids and I expect Gwen to also help out with food prep and the Tipsy Bison. Joel can help you with the handiwork projects, and in time he can help out on patrol.”

“Ellie will probably end up fighting tooth and nail to not go back to school, but I’m sure we can work that out.”

-

In the early mornings you were helping out in the stables. Feeding the horses, mucking stalls, and grooming. It was easy enough to fall back into a routine that you had known so well from your teen years. You knew horses better than anyone in Jackson did, and you were beyond grateful at being given a fresh start. Your afternoons were spent in the mess hall kitchen. Prepping vegetables and breaking down chickens for dinner. Food was abundant in a place like this, and you weren’t sure if you would ever grow used to the feeling of no longer having to starve.

Your evenings after dinner were spent at the Tipsy Bison, working behind the bartop with Tommy. If there was one thing the men in Jackson loved, it was a pretty woman serving them whiskey after a long day out on patrol. At the end of each day there was only one man you wanted to see in your bed, and that man was Joel; your Joel.

These days you hardly saw him or Ellie. Your schedules were different. With Ellie at school and working at the stables in the afternoon, and Joel helping Tommy in the mornings, and then patrolling through the evening, there was barely any time for you to spend together. He still held you at night through his exhaustion, but he too missed the way things used to be.

The days flew by, summer had come and gone. The seasons changed and the air grew colder, and the nights grew longer.

You had just finished wiping down the bartop after the last of the stragglers headed home for the night. You carefully placed every bottle of liquor back onto the shelf before scrubbing the glasses clean. The record player crackled in the background, Led Zeppelin's ‘I Can’t Quit You Baby’ a rock n’roll classic. You hummed the tune, swaying your hips subconsciously to the low beat.

The door to the Tipsy Bison swung open on the hinges as you let out a sigh, not looking up from the table you were wiping down. “We’re closed for the evening. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“I don’t wanna anythin’ to drink.” Joel rasped as he closed the door behind him.

“Joel? What are you doing here?..it’s late, shouldn’t you be at home?” You looked up at him through thick lashes.

“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go for a walk, n’ended up here. I miss you..so much. Hardly get to see much of ya at all. Jus’ thought we could spend some time together, even if it’s gotta be in a place like this.”

“I miss you too, Joel. You know I do.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He paused as his gaze fell upon your exhausted face, and tired eyes. “S’that Zeppelin playin?’” He rested his elbow along the high top you had just wiped down.

“Yeah, one of the patrol guys found it for me in an abandoned house a few miles west. It’s got a few scratches but is otherwise in fair shape.”

“Mm.” He hummed under his breath. “S’you got admirers then? Can’t say I blame ‘em. Pretty thing like you servin’ them whiskey all night? How do ya keep ‘em at bay?” His brow raised in curiosity.

“With this.” You slipped your knife from the holster hidden under your shirt with ease. “Tommy keeps them on a tight leash anyway. They know not to try anything funny.”

“Breakin’ the rules already? Maria said no weapons, sweetheart.” He leaned forward along his elbow as his fingers reached out and brushed against the worn hilt of your knife. He could just barely make out your carved initials through the thick wood. “You tell ‘em that you're mine? That you’re Joel’s girl, and that if any of ‘em ever were to—”

“Joel, relax. No one has tried anything past harmless flirting. Everyone knows that you and I..we’re an item. What Maria doesn’t know won’t kill her. My knife is a safety net that I’m just not ready, nor willing to give up right now.”

“We’re more than an item, Gwen. We’re partners for life. I know your knife is your safety net. I know it is, baby. S’why I still sleep with a gun under my pillow. Knowin’ it’s there helps calm me, but the one person that keeps my nightmares at bay ain’t home. She’s not in bed with me cus’ she’s here servin’ whiskey all night to men that probably fantasize about what it’s like to be with a woman like you.” He breathed out and you could taste his warm breath along your unkissed lips.

“Of course we are Joel. I got you, you got me. That hasn’t changed, and it never will. We’re both in this adjustment period and it’s tough. I’d much rather be at home with you and Ellie, but Maria said I had to ‘pay’ my dues.” You gently placed your knife along the smooth wooden surface of the table. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you to drink, Mr. Miller?”

“If you’re on the menu for tonight, then that’s what I’ll be havin.’”

“I believe we might be all sold out of that for tonight. Let me go check in the back just to be sure.” You were already turning on your heel to walk away before you felt his warm and calloused palm wrap around your wrist, halting you from taking another step.

“Ain’t you got a little love left for me? When’s the last time I’ve tasted those lips, hm?” He gently coaxed you to step towards him, and once you were close enough, his hand released your wrist and found purchase around your hip through muscle memory. His fingers flexed as his thumb slipped through the belt loop on your jeans. “Y’remember that night after teachin’ Robert a lesson? When we fucked in that back alley without a care in the goddamn world if FEDRA would catch us or not? Remember when we would..have fun? Don’tcha miss that?”

“I’ve always got love left for you Joel. I can’t remember the last time we kissed without us thinking it would be the last time. I do remember that night, just as if it had happened yesterday.” Your hands found themselves resting along his shoulders, squeezing them gently through the material of his worn jacket. In the low lighting your eyes discerned the speckled gray in his beard, and the salt and pepper silver strands of hair. His chapped lips, his inviting eyes that always softened their hardness around you. “We had fun, Joel but between all of that there was so much—”

“No. Don’t say another word. Y’hear me? We don’t have to run. We don’t have to hide. We don’t have to fight. We’re safe here. You, me and Ellie. I won’t deny that you and I—we’ve suffered, but in that suffering we have loved goddammit. We have loved so fuckin’ hard. You're the breath in my lungs, n’you’re the soft breeze kissin’ on my skin. You’re the sun risin n’settin’ everyday. You’re the moonlight guidin’ me home. Your eyes twinkle brighter than any goddamn star in that sky. You’re my—” his words were stolen from his lips as you yanked on the collar of his jacket and pulled him down to your awaiting lips. You kissed him so deeply it felt like both the air from yours and his lungs was being knocked from your bodies. A cataclysmic wave of emotions washed through your veins as you pulled him as close as physically possible. Tongues tangled as you stumbled back against the nearest stable surface; the bartop counter.

“When did you become such a fuckin’ poet, Joel?” You asked breathlessly between kisses as your fingers tangled recklessly through his hair.

“Started readin’ more. Shakespeare mostly.” He mumbled against your lips as he stepped between your thighs, pressing your back firmly against the counter.

“You hate Shakespeare.” You retorted, gripping his hair tighter as your free hand started to desperately tug and push the fabric of his jacket down from his broad shoulders.

“You love Shakespeare.” He countered.

“Less talking, more kissing please. I gotta say it’s fucking hot that you are reading more. I find that so fucking sexy Joel.”

“Yeah? Think it’s sexy when a rugged old man like me reads Shakespeare?” He helped you remove his jacket completely as he threw it to the floor in a haste.

“You’re not that old, baby. Besides, I like your salt and pepper hair and little gray patches in your beard. You’re so fucking beautiful Joel.”

“I’m pretty fuckin’ old, baby. Old and a little gray, but I still got it n’me to fuck you stupid. Jus’ the way that my girl likes it. Them dogs out there don’t know how to handle a woman of your caliber. Now, hop up that pretty lil’ ass up on that counter f’me.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice Mr. Miller.” You detached your lips from his momentarily as you hoisted yourself up onto the edge of the countertop. You wasted no time to grasp the end of your t-shirt and yank it over your head.

“Someone is fuckin’ eager.” He chuckled as he pulled his sweater and Henley long sleeve over his head. He was feeling like the man he once was again; you were feeling like a woman reborn as he popped the button of your jeans and tugged the zipper down as you reached for his belt in a haste, listening to the familiar metal clanking sound.

“Only ever eager for you Joel. You gonna touch me or just ogle?” You teased with a light giggle as your arms draped around his neck. Your bodies were littered with scars, old and new. Two torn canvases splattered with remnants of a life once solely based upon survival.

Joel tugged your jeans down over your hips before his movements paused as his eyes flitted down to the long scar across your lower abdomen. His fingers brushed across the raised skin before he leaned down and pressed his lips to it. “I love you so fuckin’ much, Gwen.” His lips ghosted across your hip bone.

“I love you so fucking much too, Joel. I need you so bad. Please, baby. Don’t make me beg for it. It’s been too fucking long, and I think I’ll pass out if I don’t have your cock inside of me in the next five minutes.”

“Baby, you’re so generous...givin’ me five minutes to give it to ya?” He looked up at you, grinning like a devil as he slowly peeled your panties down your thighs and past your ankles. “What about your pussy? Think she’s missed me a lot too? Cus’ I’ve missed her so fuckin’ much.” He dragged his fingers southward across your pubic bone, dipping into the sweet sticky slick between your folds. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d say she missed me too. This all f’me?”

Your back instinctively arched towards his touch as your thighs spread open the slightest. Between the cool surface of the countertop, and Joel’s warm touch you were positively dripping for him. “Mhmm..she’s missed you too. So fucking much.” You mewled and slowly reached your hand between your bodies as you palmed him through his briefs. “Give. It. To. Me. Now.”

You nearly growled the words out.

“There she is. There’s my fuckin’ girl. Always know how to get your man goin’ huh? You ain’t even gotta try sweetheart. M’always fuckin’ ready for you.” His lips were on yours once more. Kissing you with the same amount of fervency as he always did. His mouth claimed yours as he freed himself from his briefs. You felt his tip notch between your folds as you took a synchronized broken gasp.

Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, nails scraping at his skin as he slowly sunk himself to the hilt. Joel always had this way of making you feel impossibly filled with him. It was as if your bodies were in fact made for one another, fitting like two puzzle pieces as his forehead pressed lightly against yours. “Fuckin’ Christ. Missed this feelin’ of your pussy huggin’ me like this baby. Always so fuckin’ tight.”

He jutted his hips forward with one harsh thrust that had you both shuddering from the intense pleasurable feeling of being connected once more.

“I’ll—I’ll never get tired of this feeling.” You moaned his name, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“What feelin?’” He rasped.

“Feeling so fucking filled by you. So complete. So warm.”

“S’like you and I were made for each other. All mine, all yours.” His free hand that wasn’t wrapped around your hip drifted down to where your bodies were connected. His thumb easily found your clit as he rubbed it expertly in tight circles.

“Fuck! Yes, keep—keep doing that baby. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Joel.” You begged him.

“Ain’t gonna stop. I can’t quit you baby. Can’t quit ya. Never can. Never will. I got you, you got me.” He used what was left of his energy to fuck into you the way that you deserved so that feeling that only he could give you would reside deep within your veins even after your body’s were spent, and he had grown soft in your comforting warmth around him.

He kissed your skin delicately as your sweat slicked bodies stayed pressed together. He kissed your forehead, your cheekbones, your eyelids. Your chin, the tip of your nose and your lips. He cleaned the evidence of yours and his releases from between your thighs before you helped one another redress.

He walked you home, arm draped over your shoulders as your slap-happy giggles and enthusiastic chatter filled the chilled night air with domestic warmth.

banners made by the lovely @saradika

follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications

[nostromosdead]

Let It Rip! (For Better or Worse.) - Part 4

Ellen Ripley X GN Reader (reader is a paleoanthropologist) TW for blood and gore (like in Part 3!)

A deep, guttural shudder seemed to ripple through everyone near the table as the realization sank in. Kane was dead—or at least what remained of him certainly was. The eerie quiet that followed was broken only by Lambert’s ragged breathing, Parker’s low curses, and Dallas’s hushed attempt at regaining control. Somewhere in the distance, the ship hummed its usual mechanical lullaby, indifferent to what had just transpired.

Instinctively, you pressed yourself closer to Ripley, trying to quell the panic that surrounded you from all other sides. Her hand, still clinging to your arm, shook faintly. Her grip was definitely going to bruise you. No one dared breathe too deeply, as if the creature might slink back in. I mean, what if it could be drawn by the smallest hint of movement or sound? You certainly wouldn't be the one to take that fucking chance.

Finally, after what felt like a million eternities, Dallas found his voice. “Jesus Christ… Lambert, uhh... get the med kit. Parker—grab a… blanket or something. Please.” His tone cracked under the weight of the moment, all pretense of calm leadership crumbling.

Lambert rushed off, clearly shaken. Parker seemed as though he, too, wanted to bolt, but he steadied himself with a visible swallow and moved to grab something—anything—to cover Kane’s body. You were beginning to get the vibe that there wasn’t really a 'proper' protocol for… whatever this was.

Meanwhile, you and Ripley still stood side by side. Unsure of whether to help or simply stay out of the way, your eyes began to truly absorb the scene. Your heart hammered erratically, your gaze glued to the pool of blood spreading beneath Kane’s chair. A swirl of nauseating dizziness threatened to knock the air from your lungs. The sweet reek of the gore and the acrid tang of blood on hot metal conjured the worst sort of reminders: that you were out of your depth, and there were absolutely no graduate-level courses, or any amount of Weyland-Yutani company training, that could have prepared you for this.

But then, there was that low, familiar voice.

Ripley’s words oozed through gritted teeth as her harsh grip finally turned your arm loose. You desperately wanted it back.

“We need to… get him—get him out of here, he shouldn't be left sprawled out like that.” She glanced at you then, her eyes dark with shock but still resolute. “Y/N, help me.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a statement. A nudge, to pull you back from the brink of dissociation.

Your gut twisted at the thought of approaching Kane’s body, but you swallowed hard and forced yourself to nod. Though you were used to working with dead things, they were looong-dead things that typically lacked any semblance of soft tissue. And you had no choice but to assist, if you wanted to hold onto any semblance of control.

Careful not to step in too much of the blood, you and Ripley crept forward. She pressed a hand against the back of Kane’s shoulders while you gently supported what remained of his torso. You tried not to think too hard about the unnatural weight shift that came with the gaping hole in his chest. The wet, slack tilt of his head. The emptiness in his eyes. You swallowed against the bile creeping up your throat and lifted.

It felt like ages before the two of you laid Kane on the floor. Parker, finally, returning with a blanket or tarp of some sort, helped you cover him as gently as one can in a crisis like this. (Which is to say, not particularly gentle.) Blood quickly soaked through the fabric, but at least it offered a thin veil between the man you’d shared a meal with just minutes ago, and the mangled remains he’d become.

Dallas exhaled shakily, running a trembling hand through his hair. “We need to find that thing—whatever it is—and kill it,” he said. His voice was tight, barely concealing his panic. “Parker, Lambert… let’s see if we can track where it went. Make sure it didn’t crawl into any critical vents or compartments.” His gaze flickered to you and Ripley, and there was a glimmer of guilt, or maybe relief, at your presence. “Ripley, start thinking about how to report this. And Y/N---… do what you can here. We’ll—just be on comms if anything happens.”

With one last horrified look at the damned tarp, Dallas, Parker, and Lambert hustled out of the mess hall. The door hissed shut behind them, leaving you and Ripley alone in the space that smelled of blood, sweat, and steel.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. It felt like if you tried, your words would be sucked into the vacuum of shock radiating from the stark reality at your feet. Ripley’s breathing was shallow, but she kept her composure better than you could have hoped in such a situation. The fact that she was unsettled only made your own panic intensify, like a flame starved of oxygen.

Finally, you broke the silence, voice barely above a whisper. Your fear began to flirt with curiosity---you were a scientist, after all. “He was… fine. Just… fine,” you managed, remembering the banter at the table, Kane’s easy grin moments before. “How does a thing like that even—?” You couldn’t finish the question.

Ripley shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I have no goddamn idea, but we have to focus. There’s a lot going on right now.” She swallowed, her voice raw. Her eyes flicked to you. “Y/N, are you okay?” It felt less like a genuine question, and more like a plead for you to pull yourself together, for her sake.

But, that question actually made you want to laugh—though it wasn’t humor you felt. It was more of a hysteria edging on mania. Am I okay? Did that term even apply anymore after witnessing a monster explode out of your colleague’s torso? But, you didn’t want to be alone with the panic roiling in your gut, so you answered the only way you could.

“No,” you stated, deadpan. “But, I’m here.” And that would have to do.

Ripley reached out then, her touch fleeting on your forearm—like she was granting you permission to be undone, if only for a second. The moment was fleeting, but you latched onto it like a lifeline.

Squaring her shoulders, the mask of a practical Warrant Officer returned. “We should—” Her mouth thinned again. “We should move Kane somewhere more secure, eventually. Ash might have an idea of what we’re… dealing with.” Her expression tightened, like she wasn’t entirely sure about that. This event seemed outside even mechanical wisdom. “And after that, we’ll have to figure out how to help track this thing.”

A fleeting urge to sprint back to your desk and compare its slick, ridged exterior to the fossil fragments you’d been handling nearly overtook you. The resemblance was uncanny—and nauseating—like your usual digs turned inside out, but with the remains still very much alive and lethal. Those archaic bones had hinted at something strange, but seeing it in the flesh was horrific. Was that thing really the key to those bizarre fossils you’d been agonizing over? The realization tied your stomach in knots. For now, though, with fresh gore spattered across the deck and a newly hatched nightmare stalking the corridors, you assumed any further research would just have to wait.

“Right,” you finally answered. “Let’s… let’s find Ash. Maybe if we can get some sort of medical readout on Kane, we can figure out at least the… biology… of that thing.” You dreaded the thought of sifting through the carnage, but figured knowledge might be your only edge against the unknown.

Quietly, you and Ripley dragged yourselves out of the mess hall and into the corridor. The walls seemed to press in even closer now, every hiss of the Nostromo’s mechanical workings echoed ominously. Ripley took the lead, but her usual measured steps were taut, each one betraying her tension. You followed close, the memory of her comforting touch still tingling in the form of bruises on your arm. Bruises formed in tenderness... you shook away the rest of that thought.

The journey to the small infirmary-like corner of the sci-med bay was a blur primarily consisting of adrenaline and dread. You half-expected the creature to slither out of the shadows at every junction. Ripley’s shoulders remained rigid, her eyes flicking back to you every now and then, as if to make sure you were still there.

Ash was waiting—or, more accurately, he was perched at a terminal, hands gliding over a panel. His eerily calm demeanor hardly matched the crisis unfolding around him. When he noticed you both enter, he stood. “Ripley, Y/N,” he greeted, his voice tinged with a bizarre, almost clinical neutrality. “I heard the commotion. I assume our… new lifeform has made itself known?”

You fought the impulse to retort with something acidic—like "Kane is literally dead, you bitch"—but held your tongue. You weren’t sure why your hair prickled at the back of your neck whenever Ash addressed you. Maybe it was the same sense of secrecy that Weyland-Yutani insisted upon. Maybe it was that quietly unblinking stare.

Or maybe you were just paranoid.

Ripley exhaled sharply, setting her jaw. “It killed Kane. Burst out of his chest. We need an expulsion plan immediately.” She glanced your way, as though picking up your train of thought. “And maybe... to do that, we need to figure out what the hell it is.”

Ash’s eyes gleamed with a reserved interest. “I see.” There was a fleeting flicker of something in his expression—fascination, perhaps, overshadowed by an overly formal veneer. “I’ll begin scanning the… remains… to gain some insight. I will need Kane’s body, of course.”

Ripley flinched, but her voice remained steady. “It’s in the mess hall, covered, but…” Her gaze dropped for a second, a faint tremor in her jaw. “Just—be respectful, Ash.”

He nodded curtly, his voice flat. “Of course.”

You stared at Ash a moment longer, an uneasy feeling roiling in your stomach. The small lab area you’d been calling your own was attached to this same bay. The lockboxes with the abnormal remains waited just beyond a sealed door. Suddenly, it felt less like you were studying them, and more like they were pulling all the strings.

Before you could dwell on it too long, a flicker of motion across the hallway window made you jump. It was only Parker rushing by, but you almost expected to see that thing. You realized your fingernails were digging half-moon crescents into your palms.

“Come on,” Ripley said quietly, her voice pulling you back into the moment. “We’ve got a job to do. Let’s see if the others need help.”

You managed a tight nod, forcing your shoulders to straighten. Whatever meltdown you were destined for would have to fucking wait.

[creature-wizard]

Got this looong anon message in my inbox that began (incorrectly) claiming that all mental illness is caused by child abuse, then basically went on to proclaim that New Age spirituality is the only thing that can heal you from it.

Like dang they really did just swap out the concept of "born with original sin" for "mentally ill due to childhood abuse" and "...so you have to accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior" with "...so you have to practice New Age spirituality to heal from it."

[histskins]

i'm just gonna point out that y'all probably are not gonna get very far in convincing lesbians+trans women to stop ~hating men~ if y'all keep calling their fear/dislike irrational. i think we have very rational, systemic reasons to have this feeling, actually.

additionally, very very very very VERY few people are actually talking about every single man+perceived masculine trait on planet fucking earth when they say they hate men. and it actually IS irrational to expect people to choose their words so specifically every single time, like "ugh i hate men who do xyz", especially if the person in question is upset. why do we have to be Constantly Nuanced? why do we need to hold your hand? use your goddamn brains and realize that, especially if they are venting, they MOST LIKELY do not mean Every Man.

lastly, saying "i hate men" or whatever is not in fact equivalent to saying every single physical trait that is generally perceived as masculine (facial hair, deep voices, more common balding, etc.etc.etc.) are Bad And You Are A Bad Man For Having Them. jesus fucking christ where did y'all even pull that argument from you are putting words into people's mouths and, ironically, pushing those traits as inherently belonging to Men. because to say the vague-ass statement "i hate men" is also to say you hate those traits, somehow.

once again. y'all have brains. you're smart enough to realize that a woman saying they hate men is, IN MOST CASES, simply a generalized sentiment that derives from the long, long, looong history of patriarchy, and not inherently bioessentialism or terfism or what have you. jesus fucking christ. i believe in y'all. anyway peace and love i'm gonna go have a snack and stress clean

[simpingforthemm]

kiara carrera drabble

a/n: this is a really random thought and probably stems from me being back at school after not going for a while and being back in my politics lessons but anyways enjoy this random little drabble 😂

okay so today someone from my class did a presentation on fast fashion and like the brand shein and she also said that many teenagers aren't aware that these fast fashion brands aren't good for the environment and also use child labor most of the time etc. etc.

and idk why but that immediately made me think of kiara from obx with a naive gf who’s not the brightest and has been buying from fast fashion brands all the time and has no clue about everything I’ve just talked about.

sooo when kiara finds out she obv scolds her and explains everything (she's actually been waiting for this moment for a looong time to be able to confront someone about buying from fast fashion brands but she didn't think it was gonna be her gf 😭). and her gf is like so shocked like whaaat? she obviously isn't completely dumb and knows what child labor is but she totally fell for like the green washing those brands do and gets fooled by their fake image of totally being against child labor and so on.

so like kie has to educate her n stuff and I can totally imagine their conversation omg

“babe you can't buy from these fast fashion brands! they're like..so bad for the environment!”, your girlfriend exclaimed, walking up and down the little space between the couch, where you were currently seated on, and the floor to ceiling window that was looking out into a little garden. she was visibly upset, her arms were crossed in front of her chest and a frown had formed on her forehead.

“b- but on their website it says their products are all eco-friendly” your girlfriend scoffed, stopping her little nervous walk to stand in front of you. she looked the slightest bit accusing, but you knew your girlfriend and how she was so very protective of the environment and nature in general. that's what you loved about her.

“jesus babe, of course they’d say that on their website. but have you looked at any other sources? they’d clearly show you that they're lying to you!”

“i- but why would they lie? and their products are so cheap! I don't get it”

“yeah, of course they're cheap! they're profiting off of child labor!”

that's when the realization hits. and you feel soo bad for not realizing earlier. you were a little bit more easy to manipulate since you were good hearted and wanted to believe everyone else was too, so you would never even think that someone would do something they knew was bad, especially for the nature. but that wasn't and isn't the case.

kie has to comfort you :(

“kie I swear I didn't know about that, I didn't even think that they’d-”

“I know, babe. and that's what you have me for right?”, she says, smiling, already having forgiven you. she knew you'd never support such fast fashion brands on purpose. you smile back, still feeling guilty but grateful your girlfriend’s here to point out these things to you.