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morganas-pendragons · 2 years

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Haven’t We Given Enough? | Joel Miller

Okay, so hear me out. I've known about this game for years but have been exclusively an Xbox kid since like 2004 so I've never had the opportunity to play it. I heard Pedro was cast as Joel and I was shocked that I actually knew the actors playing Joel and Ellie. Saw the trailer, watched the entire first game gameplay, and now I'm here.

Whoops.

I will say this though: I'm really bothered that I could find like nothing but hardcore smut in the tag for this character. I aim to change that. Enjoy some hurt/comfort!

@ironmandeficiency

This is meant for a fem!reader. There are themes of past pregnancy in this that may come back into play later (reader had and lost a child) so if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, read at your own risk.

***

It’s remarkable how similar he is to the very thing you’ve thought him to be since you met. While Ellie is like a summer fire burning across empty, barren fields, Joel is the vengeful, unrelenting snow storm that threatens to pull you apart.

He becomes increasingly good at it the longer you know him. Those dexterous, strong fingers wrap around the rungs of your ribs and pull them apart until the fragile beating thing you call a heart is exposed.

That fragile beating thing has simply endured too much. It’s endured heartbreak, and loss, and pain, and it’s somehow still keeping you alive despite having lived through the beginning of the Outbreak and twenty years into it.

Sheer determination has kept you alive. Not love, not your little sister, just a culmination of all the things you’ve endured that have turned into anger.

It’s not like his anger though. Yours is calm. Methodical. Purposeful.

Joel Miller’s anger is exactly like him: Vengeful, unrelenting, terrifying. It’s only once you meet that your anger begins to temper down into something he has never quite known. Not in this life anyway.

Gentless. Compassion.

Peace.

And well, Joel Miller finds that the longer he knows you, the more he aches to learn what that really means.

It’s weird. You know it’s a weird habit, but you’ve been doing it since you were a little girl and have a difficult time not falling back into old habits. People have often accused you of being aloof. Bashful.

At the very least, people-watching is resourceful and educational. It really teaches you about what to expect from the ones you don’t quite know yet.

People watching was how you found yourself drawn to Joel Miller.

It started whenever Marlene sent Tess and Joel to smuggle the two of you out of the city. You were Ellie’s older sister - born before the Outbreak, almost fifteen years her senior - and her solely remaining blood family since your parents deaths. Your mother’s dying wish had been whispered into your ear with her final breath: Look after your sister.

So you did.

“I will be damned if you even think I’m not going to follow that girl,” You snarled, jabbing your thumb into Marlene’s chest. “That’s my sister. My blood. My promise. You will not take that away from me.”

The Boston QZ was, as to be expected, a literal hell. The only way that you and Ellie were going to survive was if you joined the ranks of the Fireflies. You did. You did, and it ruined you. Any remaining semblance of innocence that you had died years before.

You didn’t want to think about that. It was past, it was gone, just like that part of who you’d been at that point.

All gone. Just like the rest of the world.

Marlene knew better then to argue with a Williams. Where you lacked, Ellie made up for it. It was comical how a fourteen year old girl, in certain situations, had more diplomacy then you did.

She was the one who talked when Joel came into the room for the first time.

“Be careful with that one,” You warned afterward. Marlene snorted as both Williams sisters simultaneously crossed their arms over their chests and leaned into the counter as Joel left the room to confer with his partner. “He’s a storm.”

Ellie knew of your comparisons. She knew of your uncanny ability to read people, to see people, and she’d never doubted you. Not once.

“Funny. First time you told me this, you said I was a fire. If he’s a storm...” She nudged her head uncertainly in the direction Joel had left in. “Then what kind of storm is he?”

Your eyes flutter closed. You’d been able to gauge a lot just from those few minutes of conversation. “Winter,” You reply quietly. “One of those blizzards we got caught in the winter you turned four. Mom and Dad had us hunker down. We didn’t leave the bank we were in for well over a week. Stayed in the safe.” You pause. “If we had even threatened to step into that storm, we would’ve been obliterated. That’s the kind of storm Joel is. Unyielding, vengeful.”

“Your comparisons never fail to amaze me, kid,” Marlene commented. “You’re right on the nose. Watch out for Joel Miller.”

He’s nothing if not ruthless.

***

For the first couple of months you’re forced to travel across the country with Joel, you hate him. You hate how dismissive he is of you and you hate how he continues to act like dragging Ellie to the Fireflies who will then make the cure is the worst inconvenience he can possibly experience.

You hate him. You hate him so much because he seems to be able to see right through you. No one has done that since-

Not since him.

Ellie knows who he is. Joel doesn’t. He doesn’t ask why you sometimes wake up with a cry bubbling in the back of your throat, or why your hands always subconsciously drift toward your ring finger when there’s nothing there.

He also doesn’t ask why your hand is almost always lingering on your stomach when he sees you through the cracks in the doors of the rooms you and Ellie sleep in.

He doesn’t ask.

So you don’t tell.

***

You remember the first time he ever saved you from a clicker on your way through Pittsburgh with Joel, Henry, Ellie and Sam. It’s another one of those instances where you can recall things most other people can't: the details people cannot be bothered to remember.

The smell of the tunnel. Damp. Dark. The smell of infected wafting through your nose, a familiar smell now just like the burnt bodies you so often found permeating the air in the QZ.

The click of the shotgun. The desperate shout of Joel’s voice as he tackled that creature to the ground before firing once, twice, three times into its face while you struggled to regain your breath.

The way that, afterward, he’d tossed the gun into Ellie’s arms to take your own into his hands and survey your skin for bites.

“You good, darlin’?” He’d asked, and your brain short-circuited because this was not the same man who'd spent the last several weeks showing you and your sister nothing but utter disdain and contempt.

“Yeah, yeah... I’m good.” You murmur. “Thanks Joel.”

The most memorable part of that particular day - aside from the sunlight and the way it reflected just right against the grey and white of Joel’s hair and his eyes - was the way you had learned that, underneath the rough exterior, he had the same bleeding heart you did.

***

Jackson is nice. It’s clearly the beginnings of what’s meant to become a larger, thriving civilization somewhere down the line, but it’s the first place you’ve been in the last twenty years that feels calm.

Joel’s entire demeanor changes upon arrival, and it’s not until the gates open that you realize why: The man who steps through - and is clearly one of the few in charge - bears a remarkable resemblance to him.

You and Ellie later find out that it’s Tommy. His younger brother.

The details of that newly made memory are astonishingly clear: The curve of Joel’s smile, the feeling of the sunlight, the laughter that echoes as the three of you are led inside.

For once in the last two decades, you have finally met someone who doesn’t have malicious intent.

“So who’s the older girl, Joel?”

“Kid’s sister,” Joel replied curtly. “That’s it.”

Tommy clucked his tongue and shook his head as they entered the water plant. “I know you better then that,” He argued. “Way you look at her? Not just her sister. You’ll figure it out sooner than later even though that thick skull of yours.”

The plant is attacked by the bandits who have been trying to infiltrate the compound for the last couple of months. Your illusion of peace is shattered as you again are forced to take, take, take, until there’s nothing left but bodies to deal with.

That’s when you find out Ellie is gone. You find out Ellie is gone and for the first time in quite a while, you are properly afraid.

And fear fuels you. Just like anger.

Joel knows anger, but he doesn’t know your anger until he has the gall to tell your little sister she doesn’t know what loss is. It’s unfortunate you manage to hear the entire conversation through the bedroom door while staking out the house to ensure you’re in the clear.

She’d run away from Jackson. Why, you don’t know, but you had been more panic then anything else because it was the first time Ellie had ever attempted to do something like that.

You really just wanted to know her reasoning.

“What do you want from me?!” Joel snaps, harsh and sharp, as he storms deeper into the room.

“Admit that you wanted to get rid of me the whole time! Admit that my sister has been nothing but an inconvenience to you and you’ve felt burdened by us both!”

You can’t see Joel’s face. You can’t see his face, but you see the way his body reacts to that statement. He’s trying really hard to keep himself under control. It’s admirable.

They argue for what feels like years. Ellie calls him out, again and again, only to be stonewalled by Joel’s incessant need to keep everyone at arms length and provide as little information about himself and his feelings as possible.

What causes you to storm into the room is the statement that makes the whole world grind to a stop.

“I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel... but I have lost people too.”

“You have no idea what loss is.”

Ellie’s entire aspect shifts into something akin to both horror and shock as you storm into the room, fury radiating from your features, to only then whip Joel Miller around and slap him in the face.

Your handprint burns against his cheek as he stares at you slack jawed, raising his own hand to cradle him jaw. Joel’s seen you do a lot of things. He’s seen you kill, and he’s seen you comfort, but he’s never bore witness to the heart of the storm itself.

He immediately regrets provoking the argument now.

“El,” You say quietly, fury dripping from your words as you grip his shirt with tight fingers. “Go downstairs and join Tommy. Now.”

Ellie doesn’t argue. She never has because she knows better. With a curt nod, your little sister evacuates the room like a flood has just fallen upon it to leave you - the gentle storm versus the vengeful one - alone with Joel.

“Sunshine-”

“Don’t.” You snarl. “Don’t you dare. You don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling her she doesn’t know what loss is, you sanctimonious egotistical-” Your hands pound against his chest, once, twice, three times. Every hit makes you just a little more tired. “We all know what loss is, Joel! You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with the funerals!”

Funerals.

Huh.

Snatching your hands with his own, Joel’s response is quiet and extremely unnerving as he murmurs, “We didn’t have funerals. We just burned them.”

You don’t have time to reply. There’s people in the house, and you’re left to slip back into your mask as you remove your gun from its holster and flick the safety off.

You don’t spare Joel a second glance.

***

It’s another dead end. Another dead end full of questions and no answers that leave you asking more that no one seems to be able to give you. There might be nothing here but bodies and unanswered questions, but it does give you one thing that makes it memorable.

The way that Ellie has smiled more now than she has since your parents and Riley died. You don’t try to intervene, to make yourself apart of what are undoubtedly her memories to carry, so you watch.

It’s enough.

It’s pretty straight forward into the University - nothing, nothing, and more nothing - until you’re ambushed by another group that has you and Joel fighting hand to hand for the first time in a while.

You’ve only just managed to incapacitate yours when a resounding crash sounds from outside, and you just barely see the telltale salt-and-pepper hair go careening over the edge of the balcony.

Seeing Joel like that.. That’s the second time you’ve known the same fear in such a short amount of time: Fear of loss.

There’s me, the fool with the slow heart who dared to think I could love someone else again.

***

The storms feels like it’s dwindling now. Like it’s simply the kind you get in the early hours of the morning in December, where the clouds are thick and gray and cover the entire sky as snow slowly falls to stick upon the chilled earth.

Joel Miller has been this unyielding, fierce storm that threatens to tear everything apart from the moment you met him in Boston. He’s cold. Calculating. Sharp. You’ve seen what he’s capable of - and reacted quite violently the first time, you hadn’t realized the human body held that much blood - and have experienced the ramifications of what such things can do.

The nightmares, the abrasiveness, the need to push everyone away because it’s simply easier than allowing yourself to love something that death can touch.

You’ve always known Joel to be a storm, but since Ellie - and you, though you just don’t know it yet - have wormed into his heart, the storm has dwindled. It’s gentler. Softer. More willing to listen to reason, to fight for something other then himself.

The rough exterior that turns so many people away is slowly giving to show who’s under the surface.

You were almost positive that your heart was going to give out when you watched Joel fall from Ellie’s horse. You’d barely been able to do anything about the wound he’d obtained from the rebar at the university, using what meager means of medical supplies you had in your saddlebags to pack and dress it so the bleeding stopped.

Ellie had watched you from the top of Callus as you carried him to the horse and slowly eased him into her arms.

“Do you think he’s gonna make it?” She asked you later, long after you’d lost sight of the school over your shoulder.

“I hope so, El.” You reply quietly. “I don’t know what we’ll do if he doesn’t.” It’s half a truth with a confession hidden in between of your true feelings toward the matter. You’d spent so much time watching Joel - learning about the inner workings of a man your heart aches to know, to heal, to love - that you weren’t sure what you’d do if his steady, sure presence wasn’t around anymore.

The three of you have made your home inside a garage in an abandoned neighborhood when the snowfall hits. Ellie volunteers to take care of the horses while you situate yourself and Joel into a crude attempt of a sleeping situation inside, pushing two of the remaining mattresses together and scrounging up blankets for you to shield yourselves from the cold.

You don’t like how pale he is. His wound isn’t infected, which is good, but his heartbeat is too weak and you can’t help yourself from feeling somewhat responsible.

“Joel Miller,” You whisper, long after Ellie is gone and it’s just the sound of uneven breathing and the pounding of your heart from where you lay curled around him on the pair of mattresses. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself into my blood stream. You’re not allowed to give up on me. On us. Do you understand?”

Joel doesn’t answer. Of course he doesn’t answer. You don’t expect him to, but part of you wishes he’d open those dark brown eyes and gaze up at you with all the longing and desperation you’ve felt towards him since... since.

The bitter cold that settles in your bones is an alarming reminder that you need to curl around Joel to preserve body heat. Last thing you need is him dying of hyperthermia.

“Don’t leave us,” You whisper again, curling your fingers into his hair as you tuck your body around his own and press your chin against the top of his head. “Don’t leave us.”

We can’t take another funeral.

***

The first time Joel wakes up is the day before Ellie leaves for another hunting trip. She’s scrounged up a meager amount of supplies through the houses in the neighborhood, just enough for you to get by, but you can’t help but feel the weight of the guilt settling in your stomach when you hear Ellie’s stomach growl halfway through the night.

It’s not like you’re sleeping anyway.

Joel’s sudden state of awareness is brought upon by the fingers raking through his hair and the warmth that touches his skin from the body wrapped around him. It’s odd, foreign. After so many years of isolating himself from other people, he hadn’t realized how much he craved physical contact.

And the burn that follows is enough to make him groan.

“Joel?” Immediately your hands are at his sides, Ellie’s face just above his head as his vision swims. The pain is muted. Numb. He’s barely feeling is because he’s far too distracted by your hands. “Can you hear me? I’m going to check your wound again. If you stay awake enough, I want you to eat.”

Ellie has taken his head into her lap before he can protest. Joel is awake just enough to say your name, low and hoarse, before his vision swims with black spots and the last thing he can remember is the burn.

He can remember the burn, and he can remember how you made him feel in the midst of it. Peaceful. Safe.

Joel Miller has never known peaceful or safe. Not since her. Not since Sarah.

And as he succumbs to sleep, he finds that he wants to know it more.

***

Ellie’s been gone for too long. You know she’s been gone for too long, and you haven’t heard from her on the walkies the two of you had found a couple of weeks before.

She’s been gone too long. You need to go find her.

That’s the second and final time Joel wakes up.

You’re halfway through loading his shotgun when he finally comes to, wide eyed and alert as his hands scramble for purchase on the closest weapon to him. “Easy, Joel,” You chide gently. “It’s just me.”

Something settles in him. He seems at ease with your answer.

“Where’s-” Joel grunts as he sits up, pressing a hand to his side as he does so. You ease the shotgun to the side and kneel down to his level to meet the worry in his gaze. “Where’s Ellie?”

Your frown deepens. “She went out to hunt too long ago,” You reply. “I was just about to secure this place and then go look for her.”

“Why didn’t you?”

You fidget nervously with your hands as your gaze drops into your lap. “I didn’t want to leave you alone, Joel.”

He wants to scold you. Joel wants to chastise you for such a foolish decision when your sister’s life is on the line, but he can’t find it in him to do so because your gaze is so genuine. He’s not used to that.

Joel Miller is not used to real.

Pressing a gentle thumb to the divot in your chin, you’re captivated by the way the condescension and hostility in his demeanor is gone as he slowly moves his fingers to cup the curve of your jaw. “Thank you,” He murmurs gratefully. “But now we need to go find Ellie.” A pause. “Are you ready to do what we need to do, if it gets bad?”

He always asks you this. Right before he has to embrace the side of himself that scares you, that you’ve tried so hard to keep at bay, Joel warns you about it.

“Yeah. Yeah...” You pump the shotgun in response and press it against your hip. “Yeah, I am.”

It’s uncanny how quickly you’ve learned how to slip into your masks. The mask of the gentle, compassionate woman that Joel had only just gotten to know disappears in the face of the violence he’s so accustomed to - shifting into something darker, more apathetic, more willing to do what needs to be done.

Even for the sake of one life.

You don’t even flinch when he starts torturing two of the men patrolling the neighborhood you’ve called home for the last few days. Not when the screaming starts. not when the blood pours.

“Now, the girl. Is she alive?”

“What girl? I don’t know no girl!”

The poor idiot doesn’t start talking until Joel has driven his blade clear through his knee. According to his endless rambling, your kid sister has become the newest pet to someone named David.

And that makes you see red.

You don't blink twice when both bodies lay motionless on the ground.

“Hey Joel?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

“When we find this David,” You drag your fingers across the expanse of his shoulders to rest them on the exposed skin of his neck. His pulse thrums steadily under your touch. “I’m going to be the one to put the bullet in his face.”

***

The storm has died down to a newly fallen December snow. The temper has eased, and the anger has dissipated - only to be directed toward the people who are most deserving of it - into something that searches, that yearns, for something.

Snow melts. Snow melts and reveals what lays beneath it.

You’re just inside of the Salt Lake City limits when it happens. You’re the one who volunteered to take watch while Joel and Ellie slept. The three of you were nearly in the endgame now being so close to the Firefly hospital. Once your sister was taken there, the world would finally be saved.

And you could finally settle. No more running, no more existing.

Chewing absently on the inside of your cheek, you fiddle with the edge of your rifle from your lookout point over your camp. You’re almost too deep into your thoughts to hear him scream.

But he doesn’t just scream. Joel screams Sarah’s name, and everything becomes astonishingly clear as to why he has been the way he is. Ellie had told you about Tommy trying to slip Joel the last photo of him and his daughter before the outbreak. How he’d refused it. How he, to this day, remained adamant that his departed little girl would never be a topic of conversation.

No one warns you about the loss of a child.

“Easy, Joel,” You warn, shouldering your rifle as you climb down from the tree to sit beside the bed. His shaking fingers are wrapped tightly around the hilt of his blade. “There’s just a couple of hours until the sun comes up. You thirsty?”

Dark eyes flicker to the next bedroll. Ellie is still sleeping.

“No,” He replies gruffly. “But thanks.”

There’s a long moment of companionable silence that passes as you sit beside him, finally feeling courageous enough to spill your heart at his feet, “For all those months when we started this, I hated you. I hated you because you clearly hated me-”

“First off,” Joel interjects sharply. “Never been a time in which I hated you. Don’t know what gave you that assumption.”

“So if it wasn’t hate, then what was it? I’m not an expert at reading Joel Miller,” You shrug. “At least not yet.”

The sun is just beginning to creep over the edges of the three line in front of you. The sky above is shifting from the deep black to a soft, gentle blue that will shift into the golds and oranges of dawn.

You’re running out of time.

Joel swallows the knot in his throat as he contemplates his answer. Giving the real answer means being real and vulnerable. He’s not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

He’s not sure if he’s ready for that but with the open, earnest way you’re looking at him? He’ll get there eventually.

“Sarah was my daughter,” Joel says quietly. He can’t look at you. If he looks at you while he says this he will come apart at the seams. “She died at the start of the epidemic. Longer that goes by, more I’m almost.. grateful.” The words are sour on his tongue. It sounds so wrong. “She was too good for a world like this one. Too pure. Any kind of innocence I had was gone a long time ago. I was made for this kind of life,” His eyes slowly shift to meet yours. You haven’t taken your gaze off of his face once. “You and Ellie weren’t.”

You smile. “That’s sweet, Joel. Really. But you could not know-”

“I do know. I know because you have something that doesn’t exist anymore.’’

You tip your head to the side in confusion. “Which is?”

“Goodness. Compassion. You’re real,” Joel pauses, running his tongue along his teeth. “That’s why it looked like I hated you. I hated you because I was afraid of how real you are. How gentle you are.”

“Why would that be something you’d fear?” You ask softly.

“Because I don’t deserve that kind of thing, Sunshine. Goodness? Compassion? All the soft things that died with my little girl?” He shakes his head. “Those aren’t something you give to someone like me.”

You’d noticed over the last couple of months that every time you touched Joel, he recoiled like he had been burned. You’d seen that before too. It was the look often accompanied by the quiet desire to seek more of something you’d been deprived of: The look of a touch starved man.

It was why you’d been more deliberate in starting slow. Cheek touches, chin touches, gentle fingers raking through his hair to scrape across his scalp and kisses to bloodied knuckles on the nights things were bad.

If he wanted real, if he wanted peace, you were more then willing to give it to him.

“I had a son,” You whisper. This is not something you are ready to divulge to Ellie. Not yet. “He was born around the same time she was, though she never knew it,” Something akin to realization flickers through his eyes before he’s opening his mouth to apologize, most likely, but you hush him with a raised hand as you continue. “He died before he ever turned one.”

You didn’t want to continue. It was still too fresh. Too raw. He would’ve been fifteen soon.

Joel took your hand into his own and spread your fingers apart, dragging the tips of his own fingers across the back of each of yours before lifting them to his lips to kiss all your fingertips.

“They have a word for someone who’s lost a spouse. What do you call someone who lost a child?”

And there it is, that quiet understanding you share that makes you ache to pull back what remains of his walls and finally reveal the man who lay underneath.

You hum thoughtfully as you then lean forward to just barely graze your lips against his cheek.

That’s also the same time Ellie decides to wake up. She sees the way your silhouettes cast across the grass as the rays of early morning light emerge from over the trees. She sees the way Joel leans into you like he’s seeking something, and she sees the way scarlet dusts your cheeks when you finally pull away.

Hm.

Seems like you’ve finally found what you’re looking for.

***

Everything finally feels right. You’ve finally started down a path that ends with Joel realizing that you love him, with Joel realizing that he’s deserving, and with you hopefully realizing that he’s been reciprocating for quite some time.

The three of you are at the hospital in Salt Lake after being caught in the flood. You’re the one who took the most damage. Battered and bruised, Joel is left to watch helplessly from your bedside as you sleep. He’d only just woken up himself in the same state.

Marlene comes in much, much later to tell you what’s going on with Ellie. What the real cure is, what it will do to her.

And suddenly, again, everything comes screeching to a halt.

This is the story of how, despite everything between you and Joel going right, everything begins to go wrong and you’re left with a decision that will inevitably cost you your sister.

All of those lives, for the sake of one.... is it worth it?

Haven’t I given enough?

part two??? :D

#The Last of Us #tlou #tlou1 #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel x Reader

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ghostofskywalker · 2 years

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inspired by the others who have put together rec lists for all fandoms, i wanted to do one of my own, and since my current obsession is all things clones, it just felt really fitting for that to be the topic!

none of these recs contain anything smutty (friendly neighborhood asexual here!) i know personally it's always hard to find fics through rec posts because 99% of the fics on those lists are explicit, so i wanted to do something to try to help others who are either also ace or just may not want to read smut all the time. however, if you're a minor, make sure to check each blog's guidelines before you follow them, as many authors do not allow people under 18 on their pages.

key:

a 🐝 means the link is for tumblr

a 🦋 means the link is for ao3

a 💐 means the fic is a personal favorite of mine (i picked 2)

for ao3 links i tried my best to see if the author was on tumblr to tag them but i wasn't always successful in finding everyone, so if i missed you i am very sorry! whichever site the fic is linked to is just whatever site i read the work on.

list and links are all under the cut! clone names and fic names are in alphabetical order.

Cody:

Bruised Knuckles by milliusprime 🦋 💐

Relief by @grievouus 🐝

soirée by aenaxes 🦋

Crosshair:

An Open Wound by f0rever15elf 🦋

Calling You by interstellarwraith 🦋

Like Fire by @ofstarsandsabers 🐝

The Rescue by @writer1 🐝

Echo:

bill's favorite by groovycoochie 🦋

I Owe You a Dance by @imabeautifulbutterfly 🐝

You and Me by @captainrexsc 🐝

Fives:

Let's Make This Last Forever by sameheart_sameblood 🦋

The "I Love You Debate" by @catsnkooks 🦋

Fox:

Racing Along by showerthoughtsonly 🦋

Hunter:

Graceful Plummets by TwinkoftheDink 🦋

Make Over by KaijuSplotch 🦋

Unplanned Confessions by ReluctantMandalore 🦋

Jesse:

Making Snow Angels by @wizardofrozz 🐝

Sunset by @rain-on-kamino 🦋

Kix:

Friends Among Pirates by writingpancake 🦋

My Sunshine is Sleeping by @arctrooper69 🐝

untitled ficlet by @wild-karrde 🐝

What I See by Anna_of_Pearl 🦋

Rex:

Date Night With The Captain by @teletraan-meets-jarvis 🐝

force sensitive by @ironmandeficiency 🐝

Life Day by @crosshairmylove587 🐝

The Kitten by @clonewarslover55 🐝

Tech:

Clumsy by @kaminocasey 🦋

cuddling ficlet by @damerondala 🐝

I Want Your Midnights by @jedipoodoo 🐝

Soulmate Probability 0% by CT7509 🦋 💐

Thorn:

Caf and Confessions by hotnthorny 🦋

Wolffe:

For Good Luck by @cyarbika 🦋

Running Out of Time by CCaptainRex 🦋

Undercover by @snippy-tano 🐝

Wrecker:

Fixing Lula by @galactic-magick 🦋

it's cold in space. freezing actually by cannedtuna 🦋

#ghostofskywalker.recs #clone trooper x reader

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seagull-energy · 1 year

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This is one of my artworks for @tolkienrsb !

After the War of the Ring, the remaining members of the Fellowship gather to honor their fallen comrade.

Accompanying fic by @ironmandeficiency coming soon!!

#lotr #boromir #aragorn #legolas #gimli #gandalf #merry brandybuck #pippin took #sam gamgee #frodo baggins #seagull.art #trsb23

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ichoosechoasandbeingqueer · 2 years

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🌸~So you want 📚 something soft and 🐝 sweet? Try this 🌱 shelf~

Under the Table (part 1), (part 2), by @immawriteyouthings

You don’t want to go to the princes ball to find a partner, but your mother was persistent. When you find a dwarf hiding under a table by the name of Fee, you chance your mind about it being so bad. Fili x

Tavern Tales by @arrantsnowdrop

A drunken night at the tavern leads to Fili taking you home and putting you to bed. Fili x

Letters from amad (part 1), (part 2), by @erosofthepen

Lady Dis is unsure of you marring her son Fili and you try your best to sooth her untrust. Fili x

Something Sweet by @immawriteyouthings

A playful moment turns into one ruined cake. Fili x

Stupid Goose by @ironmandeficiency

Fili brings home a goose one day that proceeds to terrorize the mountain, not realizing what a soulmate goose is. Fili x

As It Pleases by @thorinthehottotty

It is yours and Fili’s marrage night and you are nervous. Fili washes those worries away. A little steamy but no explicit smut. Fili x

I’ve Got You by @guardianofrivendell

When the reader gets hurt and must be carried, Fili grows jealous when its not his arms carrying you. Fili x

Lion And Fire by @ally-holmes

When Thorin tells Fili that Dáin has offered to introduce him to his goddaughter Maen and that expects them to get on good terms and, maybe, end up married, Fili decides that he’s going to hate her. Little does he knows that she’s not only beautiful, but she’s also smart and strong. He expected to be the one with an opinion on the matter, yet she confessing that she won’t marry him hurt his pride deeply. Fili x

No Idea Why by @immawriteyouthings

Fake dating Kili leads to unexpected feelings. Kili x

And We’ll Love by @midearthwritings

You braid Kili’s hair not understanding what it means to dwarves. A little bit of Angst. Kili x

Sleep Song by @immawriteyouthings

You get so used to hearing Thorin snoring on the quest that when you get to Erebor you are left sleepless without the sound. Then one night Thorin finds you wondering the halls. Thorin x

Sweet Treats by @i-did-not-mean-to

You make cookies for Dwalin. Dwalin x

Tied With A Bow (Or Two) by @immawriteyouthings

You try to prank Bofur by putting pretty pink ribbions in his hair, unaware of what that means in Dwarvish culture. Bofur x

To be a Cat by @immawriteyouthings

Gandalf turns Bilbo into a cat. He is not mused. Kind of Baggensheild

Pretend To Be Nice by @blairsanne

Reader has feelings for Anders that they try and swallow down. Anders Johnson/Bragi x

Beware Of The Dragon by @ally-holmes

Anders is interrupted by an old friend after becoming mortal, and it turns out they’re a dragon. Anders Johnson/Bragi x

Boonies by @blairsanne

Reader finds an injured Will in her chicken coop. Will Johnson x

#soft #fluff #sweet #fili #fili durin #kili #kili durin #thorin #thorin oakenshield #bofur #baggensheild #fili xreader #kili x reader #platonic thorin x reader #bofur x reader #Cat!bilbo #anders johnson #anders x reader #will johnson

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miraclesabound · 1 year

Text

When It All Goes to Hell

Summary: Shoresy manages to really fuck things up between himself and Reader, and while Laura is willing to help patch things up, things get ugly first. Sequel to "That Hits The Spot".

Pairing(s): Shoresy/Laura Mohr, one-sided (?) Shoresy/F!Plus Size Reader, eventual Laura/Shoresy/F!Plus Size Reader, background Sanguinet/Mercedes

Notes: I know this makes her a little more like an OC, but I'm now expressly writing Reader as a plus size woman, and Shoresy has given her a nickname related to her job as a publicist for the Bulldogs. She can still be read as any race. Set after Season 1. Any italicized dialogue is meant to be in French. Also on AO3.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, romantic frustration, canon-typical language, past fat-phobia on Shoresy's part, Reader using Shoresy's first name, misogynistic and fatphobic language, sexual harassment, aggravated assault, mention of police, description of injuries, hopeful ending (Friends to Enemies to Possible Lovers)

Tags: @pettyprocrastination, @captainsbestgal, @magpie-to-the-morning, @deadbranch, @brewed-pangolin, @ironmandeficiency

When Shoresy calls you over to play foosball with him and Sanguinet and Mercedes, you figure it’ll be guys vs. gals like it’s been most of the evening at the lanes. Generally, it’s been you, Nat, the twins and Mercedes on one side, and Shoresy, Sanger, Hitch, Dolo and Goody on the other. However, he surprises you by nodding to his side of the table. When you ask, he says, “Trust me, Pubsy, small game like this – makin’ Sanger play against his sweetie would just be mean.”

Honestly, you don’t mind the nickname. You like your job as a publicist for the Bulldogs, and at least he didn’t choose Pubby. That sounds too much like “Tubby”, and you hope that your weight isn’t the only thing Shoresy sees about you. In the last few weeks since he helped fix up your back, you’ve found yourself getting more and more sweet on him.

You join Shoresy on the red team, while Sanger and Mercedes take blue. “Rules are simple,” Shoresy says. “Gals on goals, guys in the middle, reset the ball if no one can reach it, we’ll play best two of three, losers buy the next drinks.”

You’re decent at bowling and billiards, but it turns out that foosball is much more your speed. With your goaltending and Shoresy on the attack, you absolutely annihilate the other couple. A third game isn’t needed, and you even join Shoresy in a bit of trash talk before Sanger goes to get your victory shots.

You and Shoresy stay a team for the rest of the night, and his arm keeps ending up around your shoulders. The others aren’t blind to the two of you getting cozy. Hitch and Dolo make particular note of it, and their conversation makes Nat’s ears tingle, even over the noise of the bowling lanes.

“You think he’s wheeling the publicist?” Dolo asks.

“Dunno, me son,” Hitch responds. “But ‘s true that where she’s to, that’s where ‘e’s at.” He smiles. “They do make a right pretty pair – would knit a fine coupla’ little ones.”

Nat’s managerial instincts are screaming at her. When no one’s looking, she pulls out her phone and sets herself a reminder – she needs to talk to you within the week about this Shoresy situation.

“Am I in trouble?” you ask. Coming into Nat’s office during the day is rare – she usually leaves you to your own devices in your room down the hall.

“Not at all,” Nat promises. “But I need you to be straight with me about something – are you and Shoresy a thing?”

“Um…” you shrug. “We’re not officially giving it the old college try, but we’re not not a thing…I think?” You wish you could give a clearer assessment. You and Shoresy have spent time together every day this week, and he’s been physically affectionate, but he hasn’t tried to kiss you either.

“Fuck…” Nat mutters. You look at her funny, and she speaks more clearly. “Listen, you’re a grown woman, I can’t tell you who to spend time with, but there’s some shit I think you need to see.” She pulls out her laptop and opens it to a video link. “Did you watch the National Seniors Championship back in ’19?”

“Didn’t get the chance.” You come around to her side of the desk and crouch to see the video. You squint when she hits play – “Is that Shoresy and JJ?”

“Yup – and it wasn’t pretty how they met.”

Your eyes grow wider and wider as the video goes on. It’s not just Shoresy hitting JJ’s leg that gets to you, though that’s one of the uglier hits you’ve ever seen. What’s viscerally upsetting is what Shoresy is saying to JJ through the whole thing. You’ve heard some vicious anti-fat talk in your time, both directed at you and in general. However, the pure vitriol coming out of Shoresy’s mouth is enough to make you nauseous.

The video finishes, and Nat turns to you. “You see why I’m worried?” she asks. You nod your understanding. “Plus, he’s getting Laura Mohr to warm up to him. He’s cleaned up his act, but he’s still a loudmouth, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No, no, I get it,” you say. “I appreciate the lookout.” You really do, even if you feel your heart deflating.

Nat’s words echo in your head for the next few weeks, especially after Laura finally accepts Shoresy’s request for a date. You hold out hope that it’ll just be a one-off, but when she starts attending practices and coming along to group outings, you know she’s Shoresy’s sweetie for real.

You don’t hate her – far from it. In fact, as she integrates into the group, you understand why Shoresy is into her. She’s more his type, especially with the age gap, and she’s just good fun to be around. This woman knows every joke you can think of and then some, she’s got good taste in movies, and when you see her around her kid, you recognize that she’s a wonderful mother. You’re even comfortable with her calling you P in front of the gang.

No, it’s not Laura who ruins things between you and Shoresy – it’s Shoresy himself. You understand him pulling away from time together; you’d be doing the same thing if you’d met someone. That part makes perfect sense, even if it stings. That said, when you see him, he’s still kind to you – or so you think.

However, one evening changes all that. You’re finishing up paperwork in your office, and you hear the guys on the team chatting down the hallway. You’re not above gossip, so you put your work down, trying to focus on what they’re saying.

“Think we’ll ever ask JJ back?” you hear Hitch ask. “The man could do his work, b’ys.” You’ve been wondering the same thing yourself – you know he ran back to Quebec after some woman trouble, but you never knew the particulars.

You hear Shoresy’s voice chirp back, “Not if I can fuckin’ help it – Frankie’s a fuckin’ coward who doesn’t know how to treat women. Fuckin’ walrus pulled Laurence LeBouef and didn’t worship at her fuckin’ feet? Fuckin’ fat loser…”

You tiptoe to the office door, close it as quietly as possible – and then go back to your desk and sob. Nat comes by to check on you about ten minutes later, and you tell her everything.

You’re not going to have Shoresy booted from the team; you’re not that vindictive - but you do cool considerably around him. You’re still cordial to the others and to Laura, but to him? You are winter incarnate. One time, he tries to tease you about something innocuous, and your response shocks him.

“Knock it off, Fenton, you’re too old for this.” NO-ONE, not even his dad, uses his first name. He doesn’t know how he stepped in it, but he has to make it up to you.

It’s Laura who texts you some time later, asking if the three of you can meet up at Doghouse. You haven’t been answering Shoresy’s texts or calls, and you know that he’s using Laura as a workaround, but if she’s going to be there with him, maybe this won’t be so bad.

On the night in question, you get there early, and you find a seat at the bar. You’re looking at your phone when someone taps your shoulder.

“Hey, is this stool taken?” The voice belongs to a decently attractive man with dark well-groomed facial hair and a stylish haircut.

“All yours – my friends’ll use these other ones when they get here.”

You think that’s the end of it, but instead of taking the stool elsewhere like you expect, the man sits down next to you. “Buy you a drink while you wait? I’m Rolland, but everyone calls me RJ.” You can’t remember the last time a guy took the initiative so quickly to chat with you. You ask for a whiskey and Coke, and RJ gets a tall pint of some beer you don’t know the name of.

The conversation flows easily at first – but then you find yourself ill at ease. You don’t know if it’s RJ’s mannerisms, or if he’s looking too intensely at you – but something here isn’t right. It doesn’t help that he finishes his pint rapidly and is already on a refill while you’re only halfway through your cocktail. When he asks if you want to leave with him after only about fifteen minutes of chatting, you’re only too happy to tell him no.

“Told you, I’m meeting my friends.” Your phone buzzes, and you see a message from Laura. “In fact, they’re parking now.”

RJ has been smiling, but now that smile turns into a snarl. “You got some fuckin’ nerve leading me on, you fat bitch!” Before you can chew him out, something crashes into your face and shatters against it. You lose your balance and hit the floor hard.

As you try to sit up, RJ is staring down at you with a twisted grin. “Not so high and mighty now, are ya?” He reaches out like he’s going to grab your hair, but in a blur, he’s shoved back against the bar, and Shoresy is there, his eyes burning like the wrath of God.

You’re so disoriented by the last twenty seconds that you think you must be seeing things – when did he get here? That said, Shoresy’s voice is unmistakable. “YOU DON’T HIT WOMEN, YOU FUCKIN’ ANIMAL!” He bellows, and he lands at least two punches on RJ, both to the face.

Someone touches your arm and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Hey, P, hun, it’s just me…” You turn, and Laura’s right next to you. “Can you stand?”

You nod, and she helps you up. Two bouncers are pulling Shoresy off RJ, and when you hear a siren, you realize someone must have already called paramedics, cops, or both.

The paramedics confirm that you avoided a concussion, but RJ isn’t so lucky. The small cuts on your face are also nothing compared to his black eye and broken nose. The cops even try to hold Shoresy briefly for assault. They don’t let him go until they get the video from the manager showing what happened. By the time it’s all figured, it’s past midnight, and you just want to go home. Laura’s been helping you stay calm, but when Shoresy finally comes over to check on you, you lose your shit.

“Fuck you, Shoresy!”

“Fer what?!”

“Fer bein’ a fuckin’ hypocrite!” you tell him. “I know how you feel about fat people; I heard you shit-talking JJ when he’s not even here to defend himself – and then you go and nearly goddamn kill someone because I’m insulted??”

“But Pubsy, it was more than –”

“I’m not fuckin’ finished! You do this in front of your sweetie too? Like I’m…fuckin’…like I’m yours to save? And now I’m gonna hafta explain this whole goddamn thing to Nat and try to keep it out of the news and….and…oh fuck me…”

You can feel tears stinging the edges of your eyes as the last of the adrenaline leaves your system. Laura lets you lean on her, and she tells Shoresy, “Babe, I think it’s gotta be just us girls for a minute – see you tomorrow?” Shoresy pouts, but he accepts a kiss on the cheek as a goodbye and he scoots out.

You and Laura sit down on a nearby bench, and she pulls a tissue out of her coat for you. While you dab your eyes, she says, “I’m not gonna tell you not to be mad at Shoresy, but did you actually see what it was that RJ hit you with?”

You shake your head. “Nope – just that it crashed on my face and I hit the deck.”

“It was his pint glass – and I saw that one of the shattered pieces looked like a dagger. I don’t read minds, but I know I feared the worst – and I bet Shoresy did too.”

A cold feeling runs down your spine as you remember the violent glint in RJ’s eyes. “You…you think he might have…?” You make the throat-cutting gesture.

“I dunno,” Laura admits. “But I know Shoresy doesn’t want to take any chances when it comes to you – he likes you a lot.”

You want to be happy about that comment, but everything just feels like shit right now. “I’m sorry,” you groan. “I swear I haven’t been trying to steal him – fuck’s sake, I’ve been actively pushing him away!”

“I know,” Laura says. “But…if he were to get himself figured out, would you … be willing to share?”

Your mental gears grind to a halt so fast that you’re surprised steam hasn’t come out of your ears. “….WHAT.”

“That’s what we wanted to talk about with you tonight before everything went pear-shaped.”

The idea Laura’s presenting is something you just cannot process right now. Your confusion must read on your face, because she offers you a hand to stand up and says, “Let me get you home so you can sleep – we’ll catch back up on this in the morning.”

#shoresy #shoresy x reader #shoresy spoilers

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catsnkooks · 2 years

Text

fulminis instar || ch. 2

Darth Maul x (fem) reader

summary: “and if the devil were to see you, he would kiss your eyes and repent” - farouq gouida

wordcount: 2.5k

rating: e, 18+

tags: smut, monster/alienfucking, unprotected PIV sex, lil bit of sexy chasing, misuse of the Force, pet names, mentions of collaring at the end

a/n: heyyyyy i haven't updated this in foreverrrrr but its here! warning: i wrote this in like...3 hrs and its not edited but whatever enjoy!

tagging some people that might enjoy: @a-dorin @justalittletomato @ironmandeficiency let me know if you want to be tagged in stuff!!

previous chapter || next chapter

here it is on ao3!

You sighed as kisses peppered your face, waking you slowly from your slumber. You blinked your eyes open, smiling as you focused on the red and black figure in front of you.

“Good morning, my starlight,” Maul murmured, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. “I trust you slept well?”

You nodded, yawning and stretching.

“I'm sorry I won’t be able to join you today, as I will be busy with meetings all day,” he said, his tone mournful.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Oh, Maul, there’s nothing to apologize for. I understand.” His master had been keeping him terribly busy for the past week. You pressed another sweet kiss to his lips.

Maul sighed and buried his face in your neck. “One day, I will spend all of my time with you, devoting each second to your happiness.”

You giggled at his promise, but pushed him away before he could get more distracted. “Go! You’ll be late for your meeting!” He finally left your room after you gave him yet another kiss.

You yawned again as you stood up, ringing for your ladies-in-waiting. You figured you would start your day since Maul had awoken you. Your maids soon appeared, and you exited your bed, going to the attached refresher where one of your maids was drawing you a morning bath. You sank gratefully into the steaming water, sighing with delight, willing the aches of your night with your husband would fade.

Once you had enough of your bath, you dried yourself off, wrapped yourself in a fluffy robe, and made your way back to your bedchambers. Your other ladies-in-waiting had pulled a few outfits for you to try on for the day. You mostly stuck to vibrant reds and crimsons, better to match your husband with, and decided on a deep crimson gown for the day.

The only problems with your wardrobe were the fact that Maul preferred you dressed in deep necklines, leaving your neck and most of your bust bare. This wasn’t a problem if it was just yourself and your husband in the room, but you often entertained various important guests throughout the day while Maul was in his meetings. And it was even worse when he left evidence of himself on you for everyone to see.

You pursed your lips in annoyance as you glared at the dark mark Maul had left on your neck the night before, despite your warning to leave it somewhere hidden. There was no way for you to hide it. You could see your main lady-in-waiting, a severe older woman, looking at you through the mirror with displeasure.

“You need to tell Lord Maul to design you some gowns that cover you,” she said. “And perhaps lay off the fondling.”

You groaned. “I’m trying! He takes a lot of persuasion!”

She sniffed while one of the younger ladies-in-waiting giggled behind you, no doubt going to gossip later about how well Maul ‘treats’ you. You just sighed and resigned yourself to carrying around the mark on your neck for the day.

---

“Ser Jaute is here to see you, my lady.”

You looked up from your datapad as the servant announced that your father’s advisor had arrived. “Oh, wonderful, I’ll be right out.” You stood, setting your pad to the side, and walked out of the sitting room to the main hall where you knew the guards would have kept him.

And that was exactly where you found him, surrounded by a mix of Imperial Clone Troopers and Dathomirian Nightbrothers. Maul had both forces since he ruled over Dathomir as well as being part of the Imperial Inner Circle. They were quite protective over you, no doubt part of their orders from Maul, and refused to have any outside visitors farther than the main hall.

“Ser Jaute,” you greeted, a warm smile on your face as you made your way to him. “It is good to see you.”

Ser Ber Jaute inclined his head to you. “It is good to see you as well, my lady.” You had known him since you were a little girl, as he’d always been part of your father’s council. He was a nice man, though he could be quiet sometimes, but always willing to do the best for his people.

You gave him a slight embrace when you reached him, bussing his cheeks. “What brings you here today?”

“Ah, I wish to speak with your husband on an urgent matter,” he said.

“Oh, well, I’m terribly sorry but he’s currently in another meeting,” you said, stepping away from him.

Ser Jaute wrung his hands, eyes never meeting yours, but constantly bouncing all around the room. “Ah, well, it’s very imperative that I speak with him about this. Do you think you could pull him away?”

You tilted your head, slightly confused about his mannerisms, but acquiesced to his request. “Very well. Give me just a moment, Ser Jaute.”

The guards formed another circle around him as you left, making your way to the meeting room you knew your husband would be in. The door slid open silently when you pressed the button to enter, but you could feel Maul’s eyes on you instantly when you entered the room. He flicked his hand for the various other dignitaries to continue talking while you walked over to him, your heels clicking on the smooth floor. You sidled yourself into his embrace, pressing your ear against his chest, listening to his dual heartbeats. You could feel him press into your mind, cradling your presence in the Force, subduing all the sounds outside of the hold he had you in. You sighed, never feeling more at ease than when he held you like that.

Just a moment, my starlight, he murmured into your mind. One of his hands came up to caress your cheek while the other wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him.

A few minutes later, everyone had finished their say and all was silent. “If that is all,” Maul said, his voice reverberating around in your mind, “let us regroup later. You’re all dismissed.”

Everyone in the room bowed to him and quickly left, leaving the two of you alone. You lifted your head from his chest, smiling as he greeted you with a small kiss.

“What is it, my starlight?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry. It wasn’t often that you interrupted his meetings.

“Do you remember my father’s royal advisor, Ser Jaute?”

Maul snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yes, the small, quivering man that wouldn’t look me in my eyes. What does the mole serpent want?”

You clucked your tongue at him, lightly swatting his shoulder. “Don’t be mean! He says he has something very important to discuss with you.”

Maul hummed, leaning forward to give you a kiss in apology. “Very well. I shall hear him out.” He led you out of the room and back toward the main hall where Ser Jaute waited for him. He pressed another kiss to your lips when you parted from him, meaning to return to your pad in your sitting room. “I shall see you later, my starlight.”

You accepted his kiss and murmur with a smile, not wishing to leave him, but knowing he’ll be returning to your side later. Even apart, you could still feel him brushing against your mind wherever you were within the palace.

But strangely, the eyes you felt on you as you left didn’t feel like they came from Maul.

---

Ber Jaute watched the princess walk away, after having the intimate moment with her husband. He could hardly stand to look at her, not when he could see that monster’s mark upon her perfect skin, sullied already from her time away. He felt the rage build in him, but he forced himself to push it down, knowing that the Sith in front of him would be able to sense it, and then his plans would be foiled.

Even still, as the Sith turned to face him, he could feel the nervous sweat breaking out all over his body.

“Ser Jaute,” Lord Maul said simply, eyeing him with distrust. “Why have you come here today?”

He already knows, a scared voice inside his head whispered, but Jaute forced himself to steady his breathing and even out his feelings. “I deeply apologize, my lord, for interrupting your meeting, but there’s and urgent matter the king wishes to discuss with you. Unfortunately, he is feeling poorly and sent me in his stead. May we discuss this in some private place?”

The Sith stared at him for a long moment, and he had to resist the urge to squirm where he was standing. Then Lord Maul looked away and motioned for him to follow. “Very well, this way.”

Jaute couldn’t help the grin that came to his face.

His plan was moving along wonderfully.

---

You were sitting peacefully in the library, wandering among the many shelves of flimsibooks, when you felt a prodding at your mind. You knew it had to be Maul so you opened yourself up to him, a question apparent to him. It was met with another teasing prod, and then you could feel incorporeal hands all over your body, making you gasp.

Maul! you shouted in your mind, only to be met with an unrepentant chuckle. Not here!

He hummed, and you could feel the vibrations from it all throughout your body. Very well, my starlight. But I will be hunting you, understand? And if you do not make it to our chambers before I catch you…well, then I will just have you there.

You shivered at his teasing threat, your face heating as you imagined him taking you on the nearest surface of wherever he caught you. I understand.

Then the hunt is on, starlight.

After you caught your breath, you quickly slinked out of the library, hoping no one had seen you. You passed many guards on the way, your heart beating each time, wondering if one would be Maul in disguise, but they merely nodded at you, and you gave them a polite nod back. When you had reached about halfway to your chambers, the incorporeal hands returned, making you gasp in the middle of the hallway as they cupped your breasts and roamed between your thighs.

Cheater!

Maul gave you another unrepentant chuckle. I never said that I couldn’t make it harder for you, hm? But I will keep my hands away…for now.

You breathed out harshly as the hands disappeared again, practically running the rest of the way to your chambers. Your heart soared as you entered without being harassed, only for you to squeal as physical hands grabbed you, hoisting you over your husband’s shoulder.

“No fair!” you yelped. “You were waiting here for me!”

Maul laughed, throwing you down on the bed, and immediately covering you with his body. “You expect me to play fair when you tease me so? Wearing my marks so proudly on your skin?”

You pouted up at him. “I told you to leave them where they could be hidden! It’s not my fault!”

Maul growled, silencing your whining with a rough kiss. “I could hardly keep my eyes off of you, and neither could anyone else.” His mouth trailed down your neck and to your bust, leaving hot kisses and nips along the way. “Don’t they know you’re mine?”

You gasped as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your chest, pulling him back up to your lips. “I’m yours, Maul,” you murmured against his lips. “They all know.”

He growled again, devouring your mouth in a passionate kiss. You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, and holding on as he pushed you farther up on your bed, rucking up the hem of your dress to your waist. You gasped again as he pushed the seam of your underwear to the side, finding you already wet, and sinking two fingers into your hole.

“They’ll all know it soon,” he growled, swallowing your gasps and moans as he fingered you open. “By the time I’m done with you they’ll know.”

“Yes, yes!” you chanted, hips canting as he fingered you open to get as deep as possible. “Please, Maul, please!”

He groaned, burying his face in your neck, and you heard the unzip of his trousers, knowing he was fishing his cock out for you. “Your wish is my command, starlight.” Then he slowly pushed into you.

You savored every moment of his cock entering you, your mouth a small ‘o’ as each ridge popped into your cunt, until he was fully sheathed in you. You both groaned as you tightened around him, feeling so full of his cock that you never wanted him to leave you.

“Oh, my starlight,” Maul moaned into the crook of your neck. “You take me so well, my precious starlight, always meant for me.” And then he began to thrust, slowly moving his hips back and forth.

Your moans gradually became more high-pitched with each thrust of his hips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the state of your dress forgotten, needing him to be closer to you. He bent his head farther down, enough to free a breast from the confines of your bust, eagerly taking your nipple into his mouth to nip and suck at, making you cry out and arch your back. His thrusts became more frenzied as the place where your bodies joined became more covered in your combined juices. And when his hand found you clit, you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Maul, please, please!” you begged, the heat low in your belly unable to grow any longer and about to burst.

Maul groaned at your pleading. “I cannot deny you anything, my starlight. Come for me.” Then he sealed your lips with his.

You cried out into his mouth as you came, legs and arms clenching down around him, holding him close as you rode out your release. He groaned into your mouth as well, hips stilling not long after your release, your cunt milking him through his own. The two of you panted as you came down, maul collapsing over top of you, pressing you into the mattress.

Maul panted into your breast after he collapsed, while you kissed the crown of horns on the top of his head, gently caressing the small nubs. You let him lay on you in a comfortable silence for a long moment, relishing in the afterglow of having him there on you before you tilted his head up so you could murmur into his ear.

“What if you got me a collar?” you murmured, tracing the black lines of his tattoo over his face. “Then they would know who I belong to, hm?”

Maul inhaled sharply and you felt his softening cock twitch inside you. He growled and turned his face to nip at you neck.

“I’ll have someone working on that for you soon, my starlight, do not worry about that.”

#my writing #darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul smut #darth maul x reader smut #maul x reader #star wars fanfiction

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max--phillips · 2 years

Note

tori i’m gonna

🤬SCREAM!!!!🤬

why is my VERY LIMITED taste in actual irl men exclusively the yeehaw motherfuckers that will find me skulls in the woods and bring me rocks they found outside when the very same demographic is 99% likely to hate crime me at a moment’s notice?!?! like what the actual FUCK

Man idk that Sucks Ass tho . Sometimes we want what is very difficult to have. U just gotta get really good at vetting them I guess??? And absolutely do not adopt an “I can fix him” mentality

But yeah idk I’m sorry :/ my best advice is unfortunately to just find a yeehaw butch lesbian who’ll do the same thing n forget abt men entirely dkfnekfksjdkdnsncjsnksnckdksj

#tori answers questions #max answers questions #ironmandeficiency #the last bit is mostly a joke

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wysteria-clad · 2 years

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oh no oh no oh fuck i just realized how horrible that ask was last night now that i’ve slept

looking at it now i realize how racist i sounded, and that’s not who i am as a person at all. no amount of sleep or lack thereof excuses my callous phrasing, i was insensitive and very rude. i hope that you can forgive me for my terrible behavior. know that my words last night are not an accurate reflection of my character, and i deeply regret my words

I appreciate your apology. All is cool.

#mailbox #ironmandeficiency

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wordbunch · 1 year

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GREAT MIDDLE EARTH BAKEOFF: the fellowship edition

aka this is what happens when my mind runs free

Aragorn mixes unusual flavors but somehow makes them work

However, making aesthetically pleasing cakes isn't his strong suit

Legolas, on the other hand, has the most beautiful and intricate decoration

Sometimes mixes interesting flavors, but the rest of the time his stuff tastes just a bit too bland; he will give a very poetic detailed description of why it is the way it is

Merry is there mostly for friendships and having fun (and trying others' recipes) HOWEVER he becomes ambitious and actually quite quite good

Frodo is the one who seems very put together until like the last 5 minutes when something goes terribly wrong (just imagine those compilation videos of like, cakes utterly falling apart and stuff)

Gimli as inspiration always uses flavors and traditions from back home (why is it spicy)

Also his ultimate goal is to just be ranked higher than Legolas but they're both pretty mid-tier

Boromir has a relatively weak start, but eventually gets gradually better and better; however he plays it pretty safe

Gandalf seems to be working extremely slowly most of the time and everyone wonders how he always manages to get everything perfectly done on time; and he has random smoking breaks and just wanders off to who knows where

Pippin is there because his cousins are there, but he turns out to have very whimsical, creative and Unconventionally good ideas; sings to himself while working

Sam makes the most calorie-rich stuff with really good quality ingredients, but he has to work on the presentation and the visual aspect

at the start he is unsure of himself and feels a bit inadequate but his confidence grows over time

He always jumps in to help anyone who needs helping

The judges are Eowyn, Arwen and Bilbo (I will not take criticism) + guest judge Elrond??

do i even tag people in this bs?? i guess so YOU WILL SUFFER ME

✨ taglist my beloved ✨ @lotrnonsense @starlady66 @queenmeriadoc @entishramblings @thesolarangel @silversword7000 @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @averys-place @valkyriepirate @emmaarenstarr @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @adamgetawaydriver @fenharel-enaste @ironmandeficiency @starryeyedrogue @dinofromspac3 @wisheduponastar

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fromthedeskoftheraven · 2 years

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Thank you @massivecolorspygiant for the tag! 💖

80s Moodboard It’s really simple. Open pinterest and search ’your name/url’ 80s aesthetic. Use the first 9 pics.

No-pressure tags for @ironmandeficiency @moonlight-prose @insomniamamma and anyone else who wants to play 💕

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morganas-pendragons · 2 years

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Blood Stained Booths | Joel Miller

Filling in this request:

hi sweet thing!

can i req the fight scene with david in tlou but instead of ellie, it's the reader and joel comforts her in the same fashion?

warnings: descriptions of violence

update: I intended to have this out by the time episode 4 aired, but I'm the maid of honor in my cousin’s wedding and my mental health is TRASH right now, coupled with the fact I’ve barely had time to do ANYTHING I enjoy. this is 1/2 requests I currently have in my inbox. they’re still open, as I do want to write for Joel, and I'm hoping to have the other one out by episode 5. please be patient! :)

tag: @ironmandeficiency @kayleezra

***

In a universe where Ellie's sister meets David instead of Ellie...

He'd seemed nice, at first. They always do. Everyone out in this world is coming from an angle, looking to prey on whatever weaknesses they can exploit.

Your weakness seems to be Joel. Or, to David, whoever you're currently trying so hard to get your catch back home to.

The only problem is that you won't tell him where or who that is.

Better you then Ellie, right? She's still so young. It doesn't matter that what little innocence she does have is gone. If there's even the slightest possibility of it remaining, you will move heaven and earth to ensure she can keep it for as long as she can.

That was part of the reason why you offered to go hunting for her. Give her time with Joel - in the off chance your luck ran out and he really did leave you - and you time to gather your thoughts and prepare for that possibility.

You'd lost track of how much you cried. You had only just allowed yourself to accept that you were in love with Joel. To even consider a future that he was not a part of when he'd become so.. critical to who you were now, being the object of your desires and a quiet promise for a future, was not something you were willing to do.

That was why you agreed to go with David. To do what he needed you to do because all you wanted was the meds: And David made promises to give them to you.

You should've known better. You should've known that everything came with a cost.

***

You'd left with a whisper of a kiss and a promise of return. The air was cold, bitter cold, and the only thing that Ellie could really do to occupy the time she now had on her hands was tell stories to Joel.

Joel, who didn't hear a word of them, but she knew he was there. She knew he was there because not one time did she move her hand away from where it was pressed over where his heart beat.

His heart was still beating. He was still alive.

Joel might not have been present in the moment but she told her stories anyway. It was the only distraction from thinking about all the things that could potentially be happening to you.

***

He's too nice. He's nice in that way that makes your skin crawl because he just wants to know too much.

After returning to the shack where the three of you had initially had your first conversation, you shouldered the rifle he'd given you and watched as David knelt to tend to the fire he'd built beforehand. You were trying not to let your mind run idle to Joel and Ellie and if they were dealing with the bitter cold as well as you were.

Thank God for gloves.

"You've got gloves!" David remarks. "I’m jealous, especially with this cold. That's lucky."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," You mutter. "Next you're gonna tell me everything happens for a reason."

David nods. "I do believe everything happens for a reason, ma'am," He says. "There was an incident a few weeks back where I sent out a group of my men to scout the surrounding areas. Only a few came back. They had told me that the rest had been slaughtered by, and get this, a crazy old man, a woman with a shotgun, and a little girl."

Your blood runs cold.

Despite the palpable tension in the air and the way you refuse to deviate from where you've aimed the rifle at David's chest, he gives you the medicine anyway. He gives you the medicine but now your skin is crawling and every atom of your being is screaming at you to run.

You know they'll catch you if you run.

It's better to do the thing people never expect when they took at you: Manipulate. Manipulate your way out, and that's what will keep you alive.

But again... you still don't know the cost.

Will it be your life or his?

***

Joel wakes with a strangled cry of your name. His dreams had been bathed by fire and doused in blood, and the last thing he'd seen before being woken to the bitter cold and worried expression of Ellie at his side was you.

You. Dead, gone, vacant eyes staring into nothing from the floor beside the blood stained booths.

“Joel?” Ellie is standing frozen in the doorway that leads out of the garage, trembling hands wrapped around a newly steamed can of soup. She clearly hadn’t anticipated him being awake yet.

“Yeah-” His tongue is drier then the Sahara and his mouth tastes like it’s had blood sit in it too long, but he’s alive. His heart is beating. That is lucky. “Yeah, kiddo. ‘M here.”

And then Ellie is off in her usual rambles, but this time it's clear concern over the fact that her sister has not come back yet. You were supposed to go find medicine for Joel’s injuries.

That’s when he finally feels it. It’s not the same piercing, agonizing pain he’d felt upon impact with the rebar. It’s lessened considerably but there’s still enough to hurt.

Dark eyes flicker to the windows of the garage door. Joel’s stomach is turning just with the thought of something happening to you. When the images from his dream flicker in and out like the scenes from a movie behind his heavy eyelids, he squares his jaw and winces as he slowly rises at the waist to sit up on the mediocre thing they’ve called a mattress.

“We’re gonna go get her.”

The look she gives him is sharp enough to cut through glass. “You’re delusional,” Ellie snaps. “And were, until recently, half dead. Unless you intend to bring me with you? It’s a hard no from me.”

Well, Joel isn’t in the state to argue.

That's why he lets a fourteen year old help half drag him out into the snow in search of you.

You better not be dead, Sunshine.

And God help anyone who even threatens to try to hurt you.

***

You broke his finger. You’d sauntered up to the cell door, all sweet and seductive to try and get him within your vicinity, and then he’d howled as you snapped his finger through the bars.

David slammed your head against the door in retaliation, which was most likely why you weren’t seeing straight as you stumbled through the snow storm in search of the closest place to hide after your impromptu escape.

It was also likely how he was able to track you. Injured meant slow, and slow meant dead.

The only thing keeping you conscious was the thought of being able to fall into Joel’s arms when all was said and done. Even if you got back and he was dying, you’d hold him until he went cold.

Because that’s what you do for people you love.

The restaurant is engulfed in flames now. You’re stuck, truly stuck, and the only way to get out of here is by charging David directly and taking him on in a fight.

So be it.

The sound you let out as you charge David from behind and drive your knife deep into his shoulder blade sounds like a wounded animal.. Like you’re tired of being in hiding, tired of the running, tired of acting like you’re afraid. You drive your knife in just enough to make him throw you off his back, and then you’re diving for the nearest booth as his machete very nearly makes contact with your arm.

A bullet flies over our shoulder. You keep running anyway, desperately blinking black spots from your vision.

His fist slams into your temple as you crawl toward your knife. You can feel your strength draining away, and your resolve with it. Maybe it would be better if Ellie was with Joel when he goes. She’s the one he loves.

It’s okay. You’ll make your peace with it in the end.

“You know, it’s okay to give up,” David jeers. “There’s no shame in it.” He pauses as you trudge forward and ignore his snide remarks. “Mmm... guess not. Not really your style, is it? Seems like you’ve got something to fight for!”

He flashes in front of your eyes, even as your fingers graze the wound to your head and come back red.

Hm.

David’s fingers are forcefully tangling in your hair to press your head to the floor as he straddles you from behind. “You can try begging.”

“Screw you.”

And then his fingers are wrapping around your throat and squeezing. Squeezing and squeezing and squeezing just long enough that your fingers can wrap around the hilt of the machete and pull.

The machete comes down. Once, twice, three times, more. You keep seeing Joel. His smile. The one time your sister made him laugh. The way your body involuntarily shivers when you act like your ankle is acting up just so you have an excuse to ask him to help you walk. He does. It usually involves his arm around your waist.

His fingerprints are branded onto the skin of your hip now.

The booths once reddened by the fabric they’re made of are now stained with blood.

Those blood stained booths hold the memory of what was your first brutal kill.

They also hold the memory of the first time Joel held you like you were his last precious thing to protect, to cherish, to cradle. To preserve something that Joel felt so perfectly encompassed the beauty this world was robbed of.

If Ellie was the innocence lost,

You were the beauty taken.

“Sunshine! Sunshine, stop-” And then he’s there, there and real and alive, cradling your face in his hands and wiping the blood away from under your eyes with your thumbs. Just the sight of those dark irises is enough to reduce you to tears. “It’s me. It’s me, I promise, it’s just me.”

You barely have the breath to get the words out. Everything hurts. It always hurts, even more around him. “The things I thought he was gonna do,” You murmur shakily, clutching the fabric of his jacket to try and steady yourself. “Joel-”

“Sh... darlin,” He’s quick to hide you in his chest as he surveys the building to ensure there is no other perpetrators hiding around corners before hiding his face in your hair and thanking whatever God may still exist that you are still here too. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

That’s the first time he nearly says it. Those three words he never thought he’d feel again, never allow himself to experience again.

It’s okay. It’ll be his own secret for now. It’s too precious to say aloud. Saying aloud means it’s more likely that you’ll be taken from him too early.

Joel’s heart can’t handle that again.

As you leave the smoldering remains of the restaurant, Joel is deliberate in his choice to hold your hand as tightly as he can, smoothing the pad of his thumb across blood stained knuckles.

Joel will wash them clean as much as he is able. It’s the least you deserve.

If Ellie was the innocence lost, and you the beauty taken, Joel is what remains of the men who devout their entire lives to ensuring that those who remain like you both continue to be that way. He is the protector.

And God help anyone who tries to keep him from it.

#The Last of Us #TLOU #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader

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