#too close series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months

Text

Too Close for Comfort 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, a grumpy man, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find a place to stay for the semester but your landlord is less than hospitable.

Characters: Joel Miller

Note: I said I'd get to Joel and I'm sorry to neglect everyone else lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The suburban sprawl awes you as you steer down the gentle curving avenues, taking in the trimmed hedges and the short picket fences. The neighbourhood is a stark contrast to the grim backstreets where you grew up. As you turn into the bright cul de sac, you can't help but wonder if you put the wrong address into the app.

The automated voice declares you've reached your destination just as you drive past the house from the posting. You hiss as you confirm the metal numbers mounted on the brick are the very same. You swerve into the nearest lot and reverse, forgetting to look as you do.

A loud honk has you slamming on the brakes as a large truck flashes its lights in your rearview. You give a sheepish wave and cringe, waiting for them to pull in. You sink down as you notice the bulky Chevy roll expertly into the lot in front of the very house that distracted you.

You hold in a groan and back up, straightening the wheel and parking along the curb. A man drops heavily to his feet from the pick-up, slamming the door behind him. You wince and grip the steering wheel nervously. That must be the man you emailed.

Great first impression...

You open your car door to get out only to be trapped by your seat belt. You quickly click the button to release yourself and climb out of the car. You step up on the curb as the man scowls towards his front door, tramping up the cement walk between neatly groomed grass.

"Um, excuse me, Joel?" You call after him, "are you Joel Miller?"

He stops before the bottom step of the porch and pushes his head back with a growl. He turns to face you, agitation creased above his brows. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

"Um, sorry to bother, I'm the one who messaged you. Er, about the room. You know, uh, online?" You wave your phone at him and his eyes dully focus on the gesture.

He crosses his arms. You shift your weight on your feet, not daring to break the threshold of his lawn. Right, you don't think this is going to work out. You should've known it was too good to be true.

"I'm sorry--"

"I'm Joel," he interrupts, "you're my one o'clock," he checks his watch, a brown leather band strapped around his thick tanned wrist, "you're early."

"I... yes, I am. I hate being late--"

"Doesn't matter," he dismisses tersely and twists on his heel.

He climbs the front steps of the two-storey house as you watch helplessly. His broad shoulders stretch the thin cotton of his tee shirt as he rolls his shoulders and keys in the code to the front door. You slump your shoulders, hooking your fingers in your pockets as you make to turn back.

"You wanna see the room?" He calls to you before you can retreat.

"Oh, uh, sure," you hop in place and quickly scurry up the wall, "er, that would be great."

You clatter up the steps, tripping over the last one. He stands by the door, staring at you dully as he holds it open for you. You show your teeth appeasingly as you approach.

"Take your shoes off," he points you inside.

You step onto the mat and bend to untie your sneakers. He enters after you with a sigh. You quickly sidle out of his way as he nearly bumps into you. You slide your shoes aside and stand as he thumbs off his boots.

"It's above the garage," he points to the east wall. That is east, right?

"Sure, uh, cool," you follow him past the staircase.

He leads you to a door just before the kitchen and opens it again. It occurs to you then, maybe too late, that he's a complete stranger and you've walked carelessly into his house. You look at him, trying to hide the flicker of doubt. It doesn't help that he doesn't smile. Actually, you're not sure if that would be any better.

You go ahead of him and climb the stairs behind the door. You enter the room, fully furnished and relatively cozy. You're impressed. It's not much but enough to make do.

“Built in the bathroom,” he explains as he does to another doorway, “only half bath, you'll have to use downstairs for a shower. Kitchenette,” he goes to the counter mounted into the wall, “microwave, hot plate sink, guess you could get an electric kettle.”

You nod as you look around. It's not bad; a bed, a chair and footstool, a table against the wall with two wooden stools. Of all the places you've viewed, it's decent and it's close enough to school

“I could… is that an offer?” You prompt.

“You got a job?” He asks.

“Sure, I work on campus between classes, and I have a grant,” you explain, “probably won't be here too much, just need somewhere to sleep.”

“Mm,” he rubs his chin, a hoarse bristle of brown and gray along his jaw. “Deposit?”

“Right, um, yeah, I got it. I could Venmo? Or paypal?”

“Cash,” he insists.

“Oh, uh, I don't have it on me,” you fumble with your phone, “but I can show you my balance.”

“Bring it tomorrow and the room is yours.”

“Really? Just like that?”

“Get the money in my hand and it's a deal,” he offers his hand, “you seem clean. You're a student. Better than the guy who tried to steal my silverware.”

“Uh, I won't do that,” you shake his hand and chuckle nervously.

“Mmm,” he growls and lets you go. “As long as you're quiet, I don't care what you do.”

“Oh, yeah,” you cover your mouth and lower your voice, “I'll do my best.”

He is unshakable. You're not the most charming character but you're harmless, most people realise that pretty quickly. You turn and continue to look around.

You go to the window and pull the cord of the blinds. Only one side raises and you yank it again. You give an oop as you angle it and try to let it down. It's only making it worse.

He huffs and crosses the room. You back up and he snatches the cord, rolling it up easily. You mumble an apology and look out, peering down at the driveway.

“It's really nice,” you say, “you said you put it the bathroom yourself?”

“Built the whole room,” he grumbles as he backs up, scratching the back of his, “something to do…”

“Right,” you smile, impressed by his handiwork. “Well, I can get the money. When should I come back?”

“Ten,” he says, “and don't be early. Don't need you interrupting my coffee.”

“Yes, sir,” you confirm, “ten…” you set an alarm on your phone and add it to your calendar, “I'll be here.”

You peek up at him as he watches you with narrowed eyes. His expression is enough to see you off. You're going to scram before he rescinds his offer.

🏘️

The next day, you head out to deliver the deposit. You take a little longer than you expected at the bank. You didn't consider that taking out a large amount would raise alarm bells.

With that sorted, you set off for your new home. This time, you park without issue, the Chevy truck unmoving in the driveway. You skip up the walk and take the steps two at a time. Your toe hits the top stair and you fly forward, colliding with the door.

You stand straight and laugh at yourself, reaching to knock on the door.

“Don't,” a disembodied voice warns.

You frown and look around. Your eyes catch the almost indiscernible lens above the doorbell. Oh, fancy.

The door swings open and Joel greets you over a gray blue mug. You stare at him awkwardly and teeter on your feet. Oh, yeah. You are here for a reason.

“Got it all here,” you proclaim as you loosen the drawstring on your purse, “counted it twice.”

He accepts it as he drinks from his mug, slurping down the last of the dregs. He clears his throat as he lowers the cup, “mm, great.”

“So, uh, not to be pushy,” you let your bag hang from your elbow, “when would I be able to… move in?”

His brown eyes bore into your very soul, “well… I guess whenever you need…”

“Great, because um, to be honest, it's really expensive to live on campus and my roommates are… messy,” you hesitate as you realise you're rambling, “not that that matters to you.”

“Just think of me like your landlord,” he grits, “don't bother me unless it's an emergency.”

“Got it,” you nod, “sorry, I'm excited. Oh, and I was wondering, am I allowed outside? Well, I don't mean, like, okay, is there a backyard?”

He nods stiffly.

“Am I… can I uh, use it?”

He stares then shrugs, “I guess. Two rules, stay out of my room and stay out of the garage. You got your room, you'll have access to the common space within limits.”

“Uh huh, makes sense,” you hold out the envelope and he takes it. “Well, thanks, I really appreciate it. You know, it must be a good investment, a little apartment…” you clamp your lips and cringe, “okay, sorry, I'm going.”

He doesn't respond. As you turn, the door snaps shut and you nearly trip again. It'll be a bit tense but it's better than scraping the bottom of the barrel to pay rent and dealing with Kaya's late night antics.

🏘️

You email Joel shortly after your last encounter. Restless, you're eager to be out of your overpriced and overcrowded dorm. You have most of your things ready to go. A single knapsack and a long duffle.

He agrees to the day before the first. You're not the sort to complain. It's better than the alternative. Short of the grumpy overseer, you really found the perfect place.

When you arrive, Joel's truck isn't there. You try ringing the bell but don't get an answer. You didn't expect any different. You sit on the top step and wait, admiring the facade of the neighbouring houses and the autumnal russets littered across their yards.

You’re not early. Not that early. You thought he’d be around or maybe give you some direction on how to get inside. Technically, this is your home too now. You signed the electronic lease.

When he drives up, you stand, swaying as you try not to seem too jumpy. He sits in his truck, taking his time as he lingers inside. When he gets out, he is in no hurry. You smile as he approaches and chew your lower lip.

His graying hair looks fluffy and soft despite his demeanour. He wears a tee shirt under a canvas shirt.

“Hi, er, Joel, sir,” you greet, “I… think I got the right day.”

“Was getting a key cut,” he slips his hand into his back pocket, “the keypad can be finicky. This one’s for the back. Just in case.”

“Thanks,” you chirp as you accept the key, “that’s awesome.”

His dark eyes challenge your enthusiasm as they flick up.

“Sure,” he agrees flatly.

“I’ll get my bags,” you announce as you back up, giving him room to step past you.

He rumbles but doesn’t give a real response. You hop off the step, landing clumsily, and follow the path down to the sidewalk. You pop your trunk and pull out your duffle and knapsack. As you go to shut the trunk, you feel a tug on the handle of the duffle bag and you hold back a yipe as a rough hand brushes the side of yours.

Joel doesn’t say a word as you let him take the bag. He turns and stalks back up the lawn. You can’t tell if he’s being helpful or he just wants to lock you away so you're out of his way. You hurry after him, keys jingling loudly.

Your foot hits the step and you nearly stumble again. You catch yourself with a stomp on the next step and he pauses at the front door to glance back at you. You offer another meek smile. He opens the door, waiting on you as you steady yourself.

“Sorry.”

“Slow down, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You give a nervous chuckle. He’s not laughing. You gulp and hook your knapsack on your shoulder before you continue inside. He might not be the nicest but at least you can be assured he can fix anything you break. Not that you’re intending on that… hopefully.

#joel miller #dark joel miller #dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #too close for comfort #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the last of us #au #series

327 notes · View notes

bonefall · 4 months

Text

Maybe I'll make a post on this at some point but like, something deeply fucked up about TNP and Po3 that people have totally forgotten about is how badly they try to whine that "Tigerstar Had Good Traits :("

Firestar does it, Brambleclaw does it, and they keep doing this after it becomes this GRAND irony that Firestar almost gets Tiger'd to death in a fox trap because he was too trusting. Bramble gets his pity award of keeping deputyship and then cries to his son about how No One Saw The Good In Tigerstar :(

And it's wiiiiild that no one else in this fandom has done anything with the fact that Leopardstar broke the Warrior Code to appoint Hawkfrost, who had no apprentice, an extremely aggressive and warmongering Tigerclone who says things like "Tigerstar wasn't the worst cat to look up to." ONLY qualifying trait was being kinda like Tigerstar.

And she practically did that the SECOND Mistyfoot went missing. And then Leopardstar continued to be one of the most violent and xenophobic leaders through Po3, joining with WindClan to attack ThunderClan.

What I'm getting at is that like, a few years ago, with books like "Blackfoot's Reckoning" and "Shadow in RiverClan" it's like they suddenly decided to retcon in a bunch of "redemption arcs" in hindsight. They just pretended like there was this grand high reckoning with TigerClan, when there literally wasn't, and if anything that caused SERIOUS problems for the cast that the authors didn't fully acknowledge as such.

And now ppl haven't actually read the main series and are just working with their recent memory of all these retcon books.

But TNP and PO3 are still there, and you can go and see the ACTUAL timeline where Leopardstar is really not apologetic at all, and Blackstar is a useful stooge for the very next wannabe dictator that strolls in, in spite of the new side content that COMPLETELY mischaracterized them for their plots to work.

#I just wish people could be more critical of this #And im not entirely anti-retcon. Mind you #But I am here because i think these retcons make them WORSE characters. It's BAD for a character to GET a book with a redemption arc and--#Then they don't change at all and act like totally different people later in the timeline #And Leopardstar is the worse one between her and Blackstar BECAUSE she has sooo many active choices here #Im confident in my choice for BB the more I think about it. Leopardstar's dismantling of the bonehill was good #But it works better as a tragedy imo with the rest of the series in mind #That for a brief moment. A fleeting whim. She could have changed.#But she never did.#And Blackstar who was FAR less repentant at the time DID eventually turn around.#At the end of the day one of them appointed Hawkfrost as codebreaking deputy.#And the other did not.#And I think it's fucking bullshit the way that Leopardstar's retcondemption implies that Hawkfrost was just so tricky he mislead her #The old and experienced leader who had been fooled by a tiger before and was soso sorry for it. Just got tricked.#Like fuck off. She never had a redemption. Stop trying to tell me she did 15 years later #She's a girlboss who empires too close to the sun in pursuit of power and drags everyone down with her #Not a sad weepy smolbean #Bone babble #Warrior cats analysis

192 notes · View notes