Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh - Tumblr Posts
he’s beautiful 💜
Translation (possibly crooked)
¹ Well, what the hell did I get this "strelok" for? Why kill him? Why should I, and not someone else?!
² maybe he died a long time ago, the corpse was gnawed by dogs, and no one knows about it…
³ Although...
⁴ No, that's ridiculous.
linked - grim reaper x reader
You swear the first time wasn't on purpose. You had just logged off the call with Grim and found yourself warm and sexually frustrated, and you swear you were just trying to blow off some of that frustration. You forgot, however, that his soul was literally linked to yours.
Grim had to call off work because he wasn't able to calm himself over seeing your fingers stuck inside of you and the way you moaned his name when you came around them.
He would rather die than admit you had that kind of effect on him.
The second time? When you deduced that he couldn't stare you in the eye because he watched you finger yourself? Was totally on purpose.
You tell Grim good night as usual, and you find yourself annoyed again, an abnormal heat in your abdomen as you frown. You frown, but your lips curl upward when you remember Grim can now see everything you do. So, you rummage through your drawer for lube, squirting it on your fingers as you slide one in, Grim's name slipping past your lips as you slide it all the way in.
Then, you slide a second;
and a third.
You gasp as you speed up, back arching as you feel yourself get closer, Grim's name a mantra as you gasp and twitch around your fingers, pretending they're his instead, crying as you feel yourself cum, legs twitching as you make a mess between them. You sigh in relief when you do, pulling the tissues to wipe your fingers clean as you click on your laptop to text him.
To Grim: Missing you (づ￣ ³￣)づ
Grim sits in his cold shower on the other end, desperate to get the red off his skin. You were going to kill him.
GUARDIAN BISHOP AU?? (Destiny)
Dad had the idea of Skippy and Bishop being transported (somehow idk how yet) to Failsafe’s runaway vessel. They crash land on Nessus and eventually Bishop dies, leaving Skippy and Failsafe alone together on the ship for 500 years before the Guardians arrive. Skippy is taken back to the Tower and the Traveller infuses him with the Light and he becomes a Ghost- GOES BACK TO NESSUS AND CHOOSES BISHOP AS HIS GUARDIAN, BRINGING HIM BACK, AND THEY KICK ASS AROUND THE GALAXY AS THEY TRY TO FIND A WAY BACK TO THEIR OWN UNIVERSE. Idk if any of yall Exfor fans here play Destiny but I’m writing this out. My writing style isn’t as elegant as Zar or Doll’s but it is close to Craig’s writing style kinda sorta so I have that going for me 😂
IM SO EXCITED
IM MOUSIE GUYS I LOVE THIS HDJSJSHDJDNGSJDJSJS 💜💜💜💜💜🐭🐭🐭🐭🐭🐭🐭
Pinky and The Brain DNI banners, for anon (Mousie)!
My work mom drew a smiley face on my hand (because sometimes I just actually forget to smile) and then for the rest of the day I decided to smile like Swiss from Ghost whenever there was not a customer
Father's Day | (joel miller x reader) (18+)
A Meet Me in the Back Oneshot
pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Father's Day isn't your favorite day. Joel tries to make up for that. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), daddy!kink, praise!kink, ass-eating (f receiving), fingering, a lot of fucking angst and fluff, kind of hurt/comforty ig, reader wears joel's boxers, a lot of Complicated Father Feelings on both sides for these knuckleheads, idk where this came from word count: ~2.1K | ao3 a/n: this came out of NOWHERE but suddenly i really wanted to write a little something for Father's Day. This takes place on their first Father's Day together, so a few months post-part 6. Am I writing this to heal some of my own feelings about this holiday? who's to say, really. but i hope you enjoy this little surprise <3 Un-beta's and barely proofread so I'm sorry if there are glaring mistakes. I just wanted to get this out on Father's Day :)
Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi
“Bit of a weird day for you, I take it?”
You blink out of your zoned-out state, some guy with poofy hair waxing poetic about the Easter Island heads being planted by aliens on Joel’s television (“His name is Giorgio A. Tsoukalos, baby.” “You couldn’t spell that if your life fucking depended on it, Joel. Don’t act like it’s a crime that I don’t remember his name.”).
“Hmm?”
“Today. Father’s Day. Bit of a weird day?” He asks again, pulling one of your bent legs into his lap to stroke his thumb along your thigh.
“Oh,” you say, your mind still drifting back from elsewhere. “Yeah. A bit.”
Joel nods in your peripheral, bending down to place a kiss on the hinge of your knee.
“‘Bit’ might be an understatement, actually.”
Because it is. It’s very difficult to describe your feelings about your father. Even more difficult now that he’s dead, been dead for years. He provided a home for you, bought you the necessities to live, ensured that you never went hungry or thirsty or cold. But he gifted you little else, other than crippling emotional insecurity and an inability to recognize your own achievements as good enough. It’s a bizarre cognitive dissonance that you’ve yet to fully process in your years since he’s been gone.
So, yes. Father’s Day is a bit weird for you.
“You wanna talk about it?”
You worry your bottom lip and start to move your leg out of his lap. “Not particularly.”
“Hey,” he objects, clinging to the back of your knee and hauling it back, “that’s alright with me, little sugarplum. We don’t gotta talk about that fucker if you don’t want. Lord knows I don’t wanna talk about mine.”
And he doesn’t, as far as you’ve noticed. You know barely anything about Joel’s own father. Just that he never talks about him, and he gushes about his mother in contrast. You have some creeping suspicions about his father. The way he was. You have reason to believe that he was significantly worse than your own. But he’s refused to let that get in the way of how he behaves.
Joel has a lot of sides to him, you’ve come to discover. None of them terribly violent, but a very do no harm, but take no shit type of vibe follows him around. You’ve found that other men are not eager to fuck with him. He has this undercurrent of threatening energy when another man starts to act up around a woman. You remember how he was around Nate.
Don’t remember askin’ you a goddamn thing, son.
Those pieces put together lead you to believe that his father was not the most respectful of his mother. Or kind to her at all. He’s never said as much, but you’re pretty good with context clues. You don’t think you’d ever ask, not unless he offered. But you maintain your sensitivity about the subject. He can tell you in time if that’s what he wants.
There’s a sort of comfort in him clinging to your leg, clinging to you in the manner he just did. On any other day, you might not think anything of it. Just Joel, being horny, being himself, wanting to touch you.
But today…today it feels an awful lot like “I want you” and “You’re good enough” and “I’m not leaving”.
A lot like “I’ll be the daddy yours never was”.
You feel a tightness in your throat, a stinging behind your eyes as you study his grip on your leg, his thumb pressing into the flesh, stroking along your skin .
“I want you.”
Stroke.
“You’re good enough.”
Stroke.
“I’m not leaving.”
Stroke.
You mutter, your voice thick, “Daddy?”
A crease indents between his brows as his free hand comes to cup your cheek. “What, baby?”
“I’m…I’m good, right?”
Slight confusion crosses his face. “Baby, I don’t…what do you mean? Good?”
Tears prick at your waterline as you say, “Like I’m good. I’m a good girl.”
“Oh, sugarplum,” Joel breathes, shifting onto his knees to straddle your hips and hover over you as he takes your face, framing it in his hands. “You are the goodest fuckin’ girl I ever met. Beautiful-est, sexiest, most perfect girl.”
You blink and a tear breaches containment down your cheek. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. ‘Fact I think the worst thing you’ve ever done is shack up with this ol’ bag o’bones,” Joel jokes, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.
“I don’t,” you say quietly, lifting your fingers to drag through his beard, and Joel’s eyes flutter closed at the contact. “I think you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. You make me feel so fucking good. All the time.”
Joel sighs, pivoting his head to the side to kiss your palm and mumble into it, “Man ain’t a man unless he’s makin’ a woman feel good. Don’t matter the kinda woman. If you’re hurtin’ her in a way that don’t feel good to her, you ain’t a man.”
You run your fingers through his hair and dip your fingers under the dangling hem of his shirt, sliding through the delicate wires adorning his rounded belly. “I like how you hurt me, daddy.”
You can see his cock stiffening in his pants, pressing against the seam, and you had already been wet since he positioned himself above you.
“I know you do, darlin’ girl. You like that daddy hurts you real good, huh?”
“Yeah,” you exhale as Joel’s hand creeps between your legs, rubbing circles into your clit through his boxer briefs you had stolen to lounge in.
“Do somethin’ for me, babygirl,” he requests, observing your face as your eyelids dance and your hips surge toward him.
“Anything,” you whisper, bucking into his hand.
He sinks down to press his lips to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I want you to forget all about that fucker who called himself your father and didn’t deserve it. You’ve got a new daddy now, don’t ya? And he knows exactly how to treat ya.”
You gasp as two of his fingers slip inside the fly of his boxers, touching your pussy skin-on-skin for the first time since this wretched day began. And it feels healing.
“Yes, daddy,” you pant, rolling your hips into his fingers as they deftly work your clit under them. You can already hear yourself sopping and wet beneath his movements, slipping between your lips and massaging you torturously as you whine.
“This day ain’t for him anymore, babygirl. Not today, not any year after. Who’s it for now?”
You breath hitches on a moan as a finger teases at your entrance, presses inside. “For you, daddy,” you reply, gasping as his thick finger glides inside your slick heat.
“That’s right,” he rasps, fitting his second finger in along with the first and rubbing at your clit with his thumb through the soaked material of his boxers. “Good girls like you who have daddies that care about them, you know what they get?”
You feel yourself barreling embarrassingly quick to your orgasm, but it’s really more of a testament to how well Joel knows your body and your pleasure at this point in your journey together. He tears you apart like wet tissue paper in his hands, like it takes a single brain cell to send you spiraling. And aren’t you blessed that he has at least one to spare.
“Wh-what do they get, daddy?” You manage to moan out, preparing yourself for whatever filth he has prepared to gift you with that will send you floating through space once it leaves his lips.
Joel captures your mouth with his in a sloppy kiss that has you gasping as you edge closer to your climax, then growls against your lips, “Good little girls with caring daddies on Father’s Day get their tiny, wet little slits fucked until they cry. Don’t they?”
Your mouth falls open in a loud, shameless moan as your hips jut forward, pressing into his hand as you feel your cunt pulse against him in powerful waves, your face flooding with heat as he fucks you through it with his fingers, groaning against your mouth as you come for him for what is likely the millionth time since the first. And yet it still rocks through your body like lightning, leaving you boneless and fried at your ends.
Your chest pounds as Joel pulls soaked fingers from your borrowed underwear and shoves them in his own mouth, sucking off the flavor of your pleasure at his hand with a passionate moan.
“Not fuckin’ enough,” Joel grunts, gripping the band of the boxers and jerking them down your hips, tossing them over the back of the couch and situating himself onto his stomach as he spreads your shaking legs wide in front of his eager mouth.
“Daddy, I’m—” you squeak out, your clit still throbbing and sensitive with your first orgasm as he breathes over it hotly.
“It’s Father’s Day, baby,” he admonishes, gazing up at you from between your thighs, “The least you can do is let me stick somethin’ in the pair of socks you got me. Come inside them like a horny teenager alone in his bedroom,” he teases, licking a long stripe from your asshole to your pussy, flicking at your clit.
“Jesus Christ,” you sigh, but you dig your fingers into his hair regardless. “You can come inside one sock. This sock,” you clarify, slipping two of your fingers inside your cunt.
Joel is quiet for a second, something clearly unusual for him, and you lift your head to glance down. And you see a man mesmerized by the motion of your own fingers fucking into yourself, his lips parted and eyes glazed over in lust.
“Fuck me. Keep doin’ that,” he mutters, settling his chin onto the cushion of the couch and spreading your asscheeks to mouth hungrily at your asshole.
“Fuck, daddy,” you whine, tugging at his hair as you fuck yourself with your fingers, thumb finding your clit in tandem.
Joel groans, face buried in your ass as you feel the sharpened tip of his tongue pushing past the tight ring. Heat burns in your stomach at the sensation, something that he doesn’t do often, and you think it’s because he knows it feels too fucking good to indulge all the time.
But he eats at you ravenously, plunging his tongue inside you in staggered tempo with your fingers in your cunt, and another orgasm is building just as swiftly as the first. The bite of his fingernails into the meat of your ass has you keening with overwhelm, so many parts of you being stimulated simultaneously, and it sends you crashing hard. Your clit beats wildly against the pads of your fingers, your cunt squeezing around your fingers, and your asshole contracting on Joel’s tongue as the rush of pleasure floods your body again. Joel’s moans vibrate against the delicate puckered skin, sending shockwaves pulsing through you as you attempt to come down.
Joel emerges from your other hole and bites kisses into the softness of your cheeks, sucking and dragging his tongue along the broken skin that nobody will see but him.
“Fuck,” you gasp, heart pounding in your chest and fingers still wound in his hair. You pull wet fingers from your pussy and brush them over his damp forehead, knowing full well that he doesn’t mind the mess.
“So fuckin’ good for me,” he rumbles against the back of your thigh, continuing a trail of kisses until he’s up your stomach, over your tits, and back at your mouth. And maybe you shouldn’t be kissing him when he just got done tongue-fucking your asshole, but you can’t bring yourself to give a shit when it comes to this man.
His hands glide up the backs of your thighs, reaffirming the spread of them as he tucks them into the hinges at the backs of your knees, his violently hard cock, newly freed of its confines, knocking and dragging at the tired seam of your cunt.
“You heard what daddy said about fucking your slit ‘til you cry?” Joel asks, snagging your bottom lip between his teeth and letting it fall back in place with a wet slap.
You gaze back up at him and nod with a whimper.
“That what you want me to do?”
You nod again. “Yes, please, daddy.”
“Alright then,” Joel says in a low rumble, taking his cock in his grip and lining himself up with your opening as he strokes your warm cheek with his other, “Then Father’s Day ain’t even close to finished yet. And seems like I got buncha shitty ones to make up for. So you better buckle in, my sweet little sugarplum. Daddy’s got a score to settle.”
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Baby mine⭐️TW Blood, MWF lll spoilers
Gonna go cry now, pardon me.
Hey so uh. Look at the corners of the death counter cards.
I tried something new in the design of the art, so here it is... uhh