occasionally subtle

Love Begins
taylor price
Not today Justin
EXPECTATIONS
Cosimo Galluzzi
RMH
noise dept.

roma★

pixel skylines

Game Changer & Make Some Noise

oozey mess
KIROKAZE
Keni
YOU ARE THE REASON
No title available

No title available

#extradirty
Monterey Bay Aquarium

shark vs the universe

seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from Sweden
seen from France
seen from Finland

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye

seen from Spain

seen from United States
seen from Uruguay
seen from Indonesia

seen from United Kingdom
@justpeachiixx
can you write about secretly dating daryl and reader where reader has this admirer in alexandria who started off nice but then gets more obsessive, then one night he knocks on her door only to be met with a (shirtless 🤤) daryl? thankyouu!
Unexpected company - Daryl Dixon
pairing: Daryl × f!reader
word count: 1.1k
♥︎ daryl dixon taglist: @taliapotter @bedshrooms @little-mops-booknook | dividers by @chrisssiren
When you first arrived in Alexandria, you deeply appreciated the company. Everybody had been trying to adjust to the strange luxury of normality, and Spencer, who's been the first to help you within those walls, had seemed harmless enough. He'd help carry groceries when supplies came in, offer to walk you home at night after community meetings, and stop by every now and then to chat. It had all felt innocent, if perhaps a little excessive, but harmless still.
Then the compliments had become more frequent, then the gifts, and then the questions.
Who had you spent the afternoon with? Why didn't I see you at community dinner the other night? Had you really gone outside with Aaron, or had somebody else been with you?
At first, you laughed it off, then the nosiness really started to bother you.
In truth, you and Daryl had been together for months now, though neither of you had felt any particular urge to announce it to the world. It wasn't secrecy born of shame, Daryl simply hated any attention, and you had found that keeping something so precious between the two of you felt strangely intimate.
It belonged only you. And that was enough. At least, it had been.
I really like when people write older readers in x reader, idk why
"Big age gap" "college student reader" "19/50" fuck that porno shit, man, give me a reader who's in their thirties, forties even, give me joint pain and wrinkles and gray hairs
"But that's not relatable at all!!! I'm not forty!!!" Well, neither are you a fucking Avenger, are you? So just roll with it
Hard | Hero AU | NSFW
In an alternate universe where you're a hero, you step in to give Invincible a break, a chance to gather himself while you distract Conquest. It doesn't go as planned.
Tags/warnings: NSFW/18+, dub-con, sex, power bullshit that probably doesn't make sense but whatever, possible impregnation (again, power bs), loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, overstimulation.
Consciousness returns in a burst of light and feelings. The first thing you become aware of is how much everything hurts. The second thing is the feeling of a hand around your neck, grip tight, making it hard for you to suck in air.
As your vision returns, the memories of the last few minutes– yes, minutes– also return. And the face smiling down at you only confirms it wasn't all just a terrible nightmare.
"Oh, back with me, are you? Good, good. I worried I'd killed you for a second there."
His words grated on your ears, far too joyful. A whine escaped you as you tried to shift your weight, pain bursting behind your eyes. They watered, both from the dust and the searing pain. Shit.
"To be honest, I would be sad if you did. You're stronger than I expected any creature on Earth to be, other than Mark, that is. It would be disappointing to lose such a fun toy so soon." He says, still staring down at you with that calm expression. But his eye– his eye showed what his face did not.
Crazed. Hungry. Eager.
All because you'd leapt into the fight to give Invincible a moment to recover.
You couldn't not help, not when there was a chance your own abilities could stall this guy. The first time his fist passed through you, you'd nearly laughed at his expression. Then you actually did when he went to grab your arm and it turned into water.
Your mirth soon faded when Conquest stopped playing.
See, your powers were simple. If your body was in danger, it shifted itself into something else– something that would protect you, that would keep you safe. Adaptive, basically.
Locked in a room with no escape? You'd turn intangible. If the only way out was through a small gap? You'd turn into liquid or gas and pass through it. In a fire? Your body became fire.
But your powers weren't unbeatable. There was a limit to what you could do. Especially when you were caught off guard. Especially when you were pushed too far.
And Conquest had proven how fast he was immediately.
Your powers had done their best, shifting your molecular structure at the last second, but it wasn't enough. For every hit he missed, he landed another two.
So here you were, tired, aching, your body more focused on trying to fix itself than get out of danger. After all, what would the point of escaping be if you ended up dying from injuries?
Humming, Conquest leaned down, taking in your expression almost hungrily. His thumb brushed some blood off your upper lip, and after giving it a curious look, he licked it up.
"Delicious." He whispered, giving you a look that went straight to your–
No.
Your eyes widened, swallowing under his grip. Where the fuck was Invincible? Cecil? Anybody?!
Conquest went to say something, but you didn't want to hear it, scrambling to find something to do, to keep fighting, and so with your legs the only part of you not held down, your futilly tried shoving him off, ignoring his laugh as you shoved your feet against his stomach.
When that didn't work, you decided to at least try flipping him over, and wrapped your legs around his waist, getting a good grip and–
Conquest grunted above you, and you gasped as you felt–
"Are you hard?!" You ask in shock, unable to stop yourself from speaking because… fuck.
The position you've put yourself in allows you to feel the heavy length of his cock nestled against your crotch, searing you through the layers of clothing.
His hand flexes around your neck, and he lets out a low chuckle.
"Can't blame a man for feeling a certain way, can you, worm?" He drawls, eyes half-lidded as he feels you against him. "It's not often someone like me has such a pretty little thing like you under him, now is it?"
He hums, adjusting his grip to hold the back of your neck. "Such a pretty puppy…" He murmurs. "Or are you more of a kitten, hm? Gonna rub up against me, kitten?"
Your face flushes against your will, heart beating in your ear. You feel hot, warm. With another gulp, you tighten your thighs around his waist, locking your ankles together, and, with a flex of your hips, rut against him.
It stuns him, you can tell, but you don't stop, slowly grinding back and forth. You don't know what's come over you, but you know you can't stop, not now. You've shifted his attention from playing with you like a predator plays with prey, to… something else.
Something that will possibly leave you worse off than before.
You hear him grunt, and then his weight is pressing down on you, crushing you into the ground. Conquest's forehead is laid on your collar as he clumsily matches your movements, inexperienced; it shocks you, yet also makes you hotter.
Was he a virgin? It seemed impossible. A man this big, strong, attractive never having laid with anyone before, never having taken someone. Yet the more he rocked against you, unsteady and frustrated, the more it seemed so. You felt almost high off the realisation you were the first to have him like this.
Another thrust. A punched out groan escapes him, teeth clenched as he tries to grapple with the pleasure he's had little to no experience with before. When he'd first felt the stirrings of arousal, Conquest figured he'd jerk off once all was done, remembering the fire in your eyes, the shape of your body in that ridiculous outfit–
His own uniform clings, conforming to the shape of his heavy prick as he frots against you. The material is slick now, see-through under his loincloth which he's quick to push up and out of the way, one less layer between him and you. His weeping cockhead was likely a bright red now, angry and needy. The friction was delicious, just sharp enough to have him wincing from the bliss of it all.
Lifting his head, he watched your face, a low groan escaping him at the sight, at the proof of your own pleasure, at the proof he wasn't alone in this wonderful fuckin' feeling.
You squeezed him with your thighs again, an ache in them from the position, but you ignored it in favour of matching his thrusts, each rocking motion making you pulse and ache in need of him.
You could feel how big he was. Would he even fit if he tried to put it in? Or would he split you apart, turn your hole into a bleeding gash, painful beyond words?
The thought terrified you. So your powers, now mostly done healing you, deal with it.
When you feel the first gush of slick escaping you, you flinch in shock, not expecting it. A gasp wretches itself from you, and Conquest gives you a curious look before realisation dawns, feeling his and your clothes become soaked.
Your body wouldn't be able to take him without prep. And you didn't think he was at the point he'd be patient enough for such a thing. Therefore, your body, your powers, reacted, preparing you for it in advance.
Conquest makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, peeling himself off of you. He gazes down at you with the same expression as earlier, the only difference being the flush across his cheeks.
"Pissin' yourself already?" He jokes, teasing almost, and… shit. You can see his cock clearly now, the heavy weight of it straining in his tight pants. The white fabric, now see-through, lets you see the fat appendage, tip a flushed red, pretty veins scattered like lightning along his skin. A thatch of white hair lays nestled at the base, a few wiry strands poking through the fabric.
Blinking through the haze that had settled over you, you scoff. "Speak for yourself. Cumming already?" You snark back, nodding at the creamy substance seeping through his clothes right where his tip steadily leaks pre-cum.
He hums, vaguely insulted over what that question implies about him, but instead of responding, he tugs his pants down, the waistband seamlessly hidden right where the fabric of his loincloth began.
"Nah…" He murmurs, stroking himself, preening as you stare, dumbstruck. "That would be a waste. I'd prefer to make sure it takes."
The words, barely more than a growl, does something to you. God, you hope your powers don't allow him to get you pregnant. Surely they recognise such a thing as a danger and won't alter your biology to ensure he knocks you up.
Right?
You swallow, mouth feeling dry, unable to respond as he lets his cock drop, the thing so heavy it nearly points straight down at the ground.
Conquest cups between your legs, palm big enough to hold all of you. He hums, looking your suit over for a way in, and, not finding one quick enough for his taste, rips the crotch of your suit away.
You let out a sound which he shushes, cooing at you.
"Ohhh, so pretty…" He breathes, eyeing your weeping hole.
You felt empty, walls clenching around air, eager for something to fill you. You were loose, relaxed, absolutely drenched with more lubricant than anybody could realistically produce, but: powers.
"All this for me?" He asks rhetorically, prodding at your hole, ignoring the rest of your pulsing sex. "I must've done something right to get such a wet little kitten like you mewling for me."
His middle finger sinks in, easy, and he wiggles it around. You make an unfamiliar sound, desperate, feeling more sensitive than you ever have before.
He hums, deeming you ready. His finger pulls out with a lewd squelch, and he's quick to replace it with his cock.
"Oh, god–" You groan, squeezing your eyes shut in preparation for him to shove into you–
But instead it's a smooth slide, leaving him buried in your depths faster than either of you expected. Both of you gasp at the feeling, and you share a look with him, the Viltrumite warrior panting as he tries not to cum like a green boy.
His thighs shake to his embarrassment, and he places his hands on either side of your head, taking deep breaths. He wants to move, but he can't. Because if he does, he's going to cum instantly.
But you have no issue with that. Pushing up onto your elbows, you pant softly, holding his gaze, an intimacy he's never been afforded. Conquest swears he could get lost in those eyes–
And then you clench around him, and he loses control, hips jerking in an aborted thrust, and he– he can't stop, grinding against your walls, balls churning as the pleasure overwhelms him, and before he realises what's happening every nerve ending lights up ecstasy, his balls tightening and drawing close to his body as he cums, a long, drawn-out moan leaving him as he jerks, pumping you full of what feels like gallons of cum.
It floods into you, thick and hot, and almost immediately begins to slip out in thick rivulets, no space left to fill. Above you, Conquest’s face is one of pure pleasure, and yours probably isn't too dissimilar. His cock keeps jerking, proding at those sensitive nerves within you, rubbing against them when his hips jerk, rutting into you instinctively as he trembles.
It's so, so wet. You almost feel disgusting with the mess between your legs, sticky and cloying; when you shift your hips, more spills out, beginning to dry between your ass cheeks. Lovely.
When he finally stops, the air is still, silent. Conquest pants, staring down at you with flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes; he looks wrecked, yet despite how he looks, his member is still lodged firmly within you, hard and ready for more.
Note to self: make Cecil triple my pay, you think, already tired before Conquest even adjusts and begins to thrust again.
This time lasts longer. He's not holding back, trying not to cum immediately. He's fighting through overstimulation instead, but being a Viltrumite, he's used to continuing despite the pain– and this one is so sweet, so good that he wouldn't stop either way.
He pants, crumbles around you, fingers digging into cracked earth like sand as he fucks between your legs like a dog during its rut; you just cling to him, hearing your insides slosh.
Please don't get pregnant. Please, please, please don't.
Because that would ensure your survival, wouldn't it? In nature, no animal would hurt its mate– especially one carrying its young. It was simple biology bullshit. And you knew this. Your powers knew this.
So by the end of this encounter you might be swollen with Viltrumite spawn just to survive.
Fuckin’ bullshit powers.
Gasping in his ear, you hear him groan, more warmth spilling into you, thick and sticky and filling you up, up, up–
His hand presses into the ground beside your head and crumbles it, dust flying up from the force.
The show of brute strength shamefully makes you cum, the orgasm jolting through you and leaving you shaking and open mouthed because fuck if it wasn't terrifyingly hot.
Conquest grunts as he feels it, staring down at you before he ducks his head, lips messily mashing against yours. You hum weakly, eyes heavy as you try to move away but he holds you still, trying to kiss you.
Reluctantly, you go along with it, showing him how to properly kiss, the both of you soon cumming again, this time with your mouths locked and Conquest wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight like a child with their teddy.
It doesn't end. It doesn't feel like it ends even after he's pulled out and your hole, loose and throbbing in the aftermath, gushes out gallons of Viltrumite sperm. You just stare at the sky, panting and heaving as your heart uses your ribs as a punching bag.
It's hard to say how long the two of you had been fucking, Conquest using you like the world's cheepest fleshlight even after you cried for a break, nerves painfully sensitive; no, he just continued, fucking into your hole like he was trying to conquer it and you with every roll and thrust of his hips, bullying his way deeper and deeper until his flushed, flared tip kissed something deep inside you, something that shouldn't be touched yet had your toes curling anyway.
But finally, minutes, hours, a day later he's done, adjusting himself and putting himself back in his pants, eyeing you for a long silent moment.
Your insides quiver at that look, and he huffs out a small chuckle, kneeling to look at you better.
“You're cute, kitten. Can't say I've ever met anyone as cute as you. And you were a good fight, not to mention…” His gaze sinks between your legs, and you feel hot again, pressing your thighs together to hide. “Hey, hey, no need for that! I've already been inside you. Now…”
You gasped as you were abruptly grabbed, cradled against his chest. Conquest looked down at you, something calmed in his gaze.
“We can do one of two things. I take you with me back to Viltrum, or you show me where you live.”
You blink. What? Well, you couldn't– well, actually you could breathe in space with your powers, but…
“M-my place.” You say, swallowing thickly. “But… why? You're staying?”
He hums, a considering sound as he looks around at the devastation.
“At least for a little while. I still have a job to do. Plus,” his gaze was back on you, a heavy, scorching thing, “I want to play with my new kitten some more, see what else you can do, fuck you full of my seed a few more times. Whichever comes first.”
You want to whimper, but you're just too tired. You weren't blind to the fact that nobody else had come this entire time. They'd left you here, plain and simple. Cecil was probably watching, had been watching, seen you get… was it rape if you'd allowed it, enjoyed it? Whatever. He'd seen. And still, nothing had happened.
It was just you and Conquest.
“… my home is at the edge of the mountains.” You whisper, pointing in the direction. “We can– we can wash up and… do more.” You say, closing your eyes in acceptance to your fate.
Fine. If nobody else was going to help you, you'd do whatever was necessary to keep this big, bad Viltrumite on your side.
After all, as stated before, animals don't kill their mates, especially when carrying their young.
I have had this in the works for OVER A YEAR. Fuck.
Anyway it's finally done and I'm glad to get it out. Enjoy some Conquest dub-con smut (though it's probably full-con by the end).
Cecil, showing up after everything: hey– Reader, done with his shit: Conquest, attack! Conquest: yes dear 🥰💖💕
So where’s all the conquest and thragg fics?
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who from the moment he laid eyes on you, has only ever referred to you as his wife
You, this sweet little thing, running through the halls on base one day when you turn a corner and nearly run headfirst into the Lieutenant, who’s walking alongside Soap
“Oh! Sorry about that, sir.” You told him, never slowing down in your hurried pace as you snuck around his large frame and continued down towards whatever you were evidently late for
The only reason his gaze had followed your retreating form, was that unlike everyone else, you had met his eyes when you spoke, even smiled warmly up at him
That one smile and he was done for
“Who was tha’?” The sergeant had questioned, seeing Ghost’s attention still fixated on you.
“Think that was my wife.”
“Yer what?!”
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who makes it a point to let everyone know that you are in fact his wife
Well, everyone apart from you apparently
He would certainly never abuse his position as a Lieutenant, but some new recruit had the audacity to whistle at you as you walked by? Well 100 laps around the base don’t exactly run themselves
Another soldier saved you a seat next to him in a briefing? He can enjoy scrubbing toilet seats for the next week in that case
Someone actually had the bollocks to ask you for your phone number? Perfect, he needed a volunteer for demonstrating hand to hand combat to the recruits, medics on standby of course
By the time he properly introduces himself to you for the first time, it’s understood by everyone else around that you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs Riley
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who listens to you tell him your name in a voice that resembles music to his ears, hardly bothering to remember your last name, seeing as it’ll be changing soon enough anyway
“You can call me anythin’ you want, love.” His deep, gravelly voice had sent shivers down your spine, cheeky smirk widening beneath his mask. “So long as you call me, that is.”
By the end of your first date, (you were sitting alone in the dining hall and he wordlessly joined you what do you mean this isn’t a date) he’s wondering if you’ll insist on a ceremony or if he can sweep you away to the nearest courthouse and make this official, slipping a ring onto you finger and himself into you
You had laughed when he put his number into your phone and named himself ‘Husband’, certain that the man was only messing with you, some kind of hazing that you apparently weren’t aware Lieutenants played on the new communications hire, but it was only fair seeing as he’d saved your contact under ‘Wife’
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who is over the moon every time you play along, even if he knows you believe you’re only playing
“Ach, thanks Lt. Just what I needed.” Soap said, seeing Ghost’s approaching form enter the common room, holding a steaming cup of tea in each hand
“S’for my wife. Get your own.” The older man gruffly replied, sliding the mug onto the side table next to where you’re curled up on the couch, reading a book
“Aw, thank you honey.” You giggled, smiling up as him with an expression he thinks would taste even sweeter than honey if he were to run his tongue across your upturned lips
“Happy wife, happy life, sergeant.” Ghost shrugged, ignoring the other man’s pout, landing next to you and reaching an arm behind you across the back of the couch
“God, maybe I really should keep you.” You’d laughed, reaching a leg out to dig your socked toes into his muscled thigh, teasing him
Grasping your foot into his large, strong hands, he began massaging it, uncaring that you were only two of the many people in the common room, not when you looked at him like that, smiling together as though you truly were nothing more than a married couple
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, who surprised you one day, insisting he needed your help with something crucial off base, and drove you to a local shopping outlet to look at none other than dresses
“Is there some sort of party happening?” You’d questioned, confused out of your mind
“Suppose you could consider it a party.” He’d answered, leading you through the many racks of dresses, you noticed were all, very conveniently, white
“Now while you’re lookin’ through dress sizes,” he’d added, taking your left hand in both of his. “You know your ring size? Got my own shoppin’ to do ‘round here.”
Series masterlist
i don’t even give it 12 hours before one of you sluts has a fic on here about fucking your son’s baseball coach big dick steve harrington
redraw of old doodle i did
my ej headcanons. i never really saw him as a white man. i dont think he’d be slender either, i think he’d be pretty muscular from all his hunting. dont look too close or you might notice he’s loosely based off toji fushiguro
i think he was frail and weak in the beginning, and overtime got stronger. the organs he eats has a lot of fat and protein, so mixed with all the physical activity and walking he HAS to do, he is strong. it's mostly focused on his arms and back.
they need to invent a staying up late that doesn't make you get less sleep
When John got the phone call he was confused. As far as he was aware, no one had him down as an emergency contact. Why would they? Everyone he knew had other people in their life, he was no one’s sole provider or life partner, he had no one to look after. So this had to be a mistake.
The confusion turned to fear when the nurse said your name.
“What happened?” He was already putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys.
She said something about a car crash but he barely heard through the ringing of his ears. He drove faster than he probably ever has, it was a miracle in its own right that he didn’t get pulled over or into a crash himself.
By the time he was in the reception area, he barely slowed down to yell out your name to the nurse and get what room you were in. He flew past, found the room, and slammed the door open.
You startled from where you were, sitting on the bed looking down at your arm in a sling, head swinging up to meet him.
Seeing you awake and alert finally stopped his rampage. He just looked at you for a minute, leaving you both in silence, until you started to squirm.
“I—“
“Are you alright? What happened?” He cut you off to ask.
“Yes, I’m fine, I keep trying to tell the nurses that, but they wouldn’t release me without calling my emergency contact…which…is you.” You looked away before mumbling, “I didn’t want them to call you. I only broke my collarbone…and totaled my car.”
“You’re damn right they shouldn’t have called me.” You looked panicked, like you’d start crying soon, so he finished fast, “you should’ve called me yourself first thing.”
You stopped with your mouth open, about to apologize for the nurses calling him. “You…I’m not your responsibility, sir. I didn’t wanna bother you.”
“You are my responsibility, sergeant.” He wanted to explain to you that his sense of responsibility over you extended far past that of a captain, but he kept it to himself.
“I’m, uh, sorry captain.”
He furrowed his brows, “why’s that.”
“When I joined the team, they made me put down an emergency contact and…I didn’t have anyone to put.” You looked down, he could tell you were slightly ashamed that you wrote his name without telling him.
“Yes you did. You had me.”
This would have had me crucified on tumblr 10 years ago but maybe we are ready for this conversation now:
If you are a socially anxious person, you have to socialize. Your panic/anxiety attacks will only get worse and trigger more frequently if you constantly avoid contact with The Public. Not saying that you need to be a social butterfly- but there is a genuine problem with not being able to order your own meal at a restaurant. And it cannot be solved by always having someone else do it for you.
This is a PSA to about 3/4s of the Portland Youth populace
everyone who reblogs this and is like "I ordered my own tea this week" or "I only barfed once when I had to give a presentation'- you are doing amazing sweetie. Have patience with yourself, you are relearning a skill so difficult that people get 4 year degrees to do it professionally.
I have a confession to make... I thought the idea of wireless headphones like air pods were so so stupid when they first came out. But having owned wireless headphone pods with a case I have to admit that I do enjoy them quite a lot. But we should still eat the spleen of every person who lobbied to phase out the headphone jack in electronics
I love environmental storytelling
Its fucking hieroglyphs with you people
Older Price seeing reader like an influencers video with her beautiful mixer and not paying attention to the mixer. He was looking at the recipe.
"Why don't you ever make your old man candies, luvie?"
"You eat those?"
Candied orange peels? Maybe your great grandpa ate stuff like that.
"They're a delicacy."
"I'd make em but I don't know if my hand mixer can stand it."
"What's wrong with your hand mixer?"
"It's older than you."
And you giggled and brushed it off, you'll make it work.
Till a week later when a pretty big box came and you dragged it inside.
"Hey John, you got a package!"
He came down the stairs, smoking inside the house again. You rolled your eyes but kept struggling with the box.
"S'not mine."
"So I brought this heavy thing I for nothing?"
"No baby, happy early Christmas."
He kissed your temple before handing you the cigar which you held like it was radioactive. He grabbed the box like it weighed nothing and set it on your counter.
He said nothing more and you raised and eyebrow and handed him back the smoke to open the box.
It was taller than the one at your mom's house, and a beautiful matte forest green. Two bowls, one dark walnut the other sturdy stainless steel.
"John!"
The smile on your face was the best high in the universe.
"How did you even get this?! They're all sold out, I thought you could only get the white ones!"
"Knew you hate white."
He lifted it out of the box for you while you held your wooden bowl.
"Expect some sweets here soon."
He faked a stern tone but couldn't hold it down at your beaming face.
"Thank you."
Netflix has a lot of nerve crying and screaming and throwing up and having a tantrum about how password sharing is killing their business and making them hemorrhage money and how they're just struggling to stay afloat, then turning around and spending 72 billion dollars trying to become a monopoly by buying fucking Warner Bros