#good god i get so scared using that tag for joel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soullumii · 11 months

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masked up | joel miller x f!reader

pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader

summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask

warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N

word count: 4.2k

a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.

You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.

But it does. It becomes a Thing™.

It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.

But it all begins with something bad.

Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock.

Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back.

Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same.

The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them.

And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.

Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.

It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of.

You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.

God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time.

A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength.

Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.

"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.

This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—

You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest.

He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.

And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.

The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.

Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both.

“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.

A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask.

"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."

“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”

- - -

"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.

You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.

Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"

You shrug, "No reason."

Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.

“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.”

“What look?”

“The sex look.”

You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.”

Shit. He’s found you out.

“How would you know?”

He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”

Valid. Still-

"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."

"I know that look. This ain't it."

Jesus Christ.

You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.”

"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?"

"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”

His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”

You nod tightly.

“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says.

Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?

You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.”

“Oh.”

Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”

Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.”

Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.”

Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”

“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.”

You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”

“I’d really do it for you.”

“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”

He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?”

“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”

- - -

"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.

You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you.

You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs.

He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.

His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.

"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans.

Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”

You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.

“I-I’m close, Joel.”

His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand.

“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”

Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.

In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.

“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins.

“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”

You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.

“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.

He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.

Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper.

“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”

“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“

You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.

You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs.

The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.

Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.

“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age.

He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan.

“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”

“Yours first.”

You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.

And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.

“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh.

“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”

“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”

His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world.

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.”

You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan.

His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.

He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.

Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map.

You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs.

“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.”

“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”

You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.

“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly.

You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.”

He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”

“Yes sir.”

You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”

You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.

You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.

“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”

You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.

“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.”

You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.”

He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down.

“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”

You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”

He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.

Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”

You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”

And what it wants is him. Real bad.

So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.

The two of you moan in tandem.

“There we go,” he sighs.

“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.

You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.

You always have to adjust to his thickness.

You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.

“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”

He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you.

When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.

But now after years together, he lets it all out.

Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife.

It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much.

Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.

His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.

“You see that, baby?”

You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do.

You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips.

A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”

“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.

You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.

You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.

And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.

“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.”

Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release.

It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.

His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.

“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.

You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.

“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.

He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”

You giggle, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”

You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth.

“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.

He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”

“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”

“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”

Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”

His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”

That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.

“Yeah, I do,” you say.

He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #tlou #game joel miller #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #hbo joel miller

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atticrissfinch · 9 months

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The Wound Won’t Close (dark!joel miller x reader) (18+)

Part two of All You Wanna Do

pairing: VERYdark!joel miller x fem!reader summary: just when you're starting to heal, joel shows up to watch the game with your father. you should be fine as long as your dad's around...right? CAUTION: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Unambiguous noncon warning. Warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT] explicit noncon, dark!creeper!neighbor!joel, girthy age gap (Joel is anywhere from 50-60, reader is 18), fetishization of new-adulthood (Joel gets off on reader being 18), mentions of blood, accidental injury, struggling, unprotected piv, anal scare, spanking, derogatory terms (slut, whore, etc) word count: ~4K | ao3 a/n: y’all absolutely blew me away with your support of part one of this fic! So we’re back and better than ever with an equally unsettling, upsettingly misogynistic joel miller who i should definitely not find as attractive as i do, but we are who we are, besties. again, i do not support SA of any kind in reality, respect people’s preferences, and protect your peace, loves 💖 Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

Your last pre-college summer loses its sheen after that evening.

You do too.

The incandescent luster of your future feels like it's flickering. Like a dying light in a dank hallway. Didn’t food used to taste better? Didn’t you used to fill out your clothes better? Didn’t your face used to have a glow to it?

For the life of you— at least what’s left of it—you can’t remember.

Although attentive, your father is not always perceptive. He thinks it’s nerves about leaving home, heading for new horizons. You don’t tell him otherwise. He doesn’t question why you find somewhere else to be whenever the neighbor comes around. Doesn’t think twice about how when he suggests inviting him over for dinner, you insist on a special meal with just the two of you instead. You won’t have nights like this often anymore, after all.

He doesn’t even push too hard when you beg him to stop using his nickname for you. Say you’ll even take “sweetie” or “sweet pea”. Just not that. He simply rolls his eyes with an affectionate glint and throws an arm around your shoulder with an “Alright, sweetie bird.”

After a few weeks, the burning of your skin where he grazed you with his greedy fingers begins to dwindle. What felt like a dark void between your legs begins to reshape back into divine, delicate flesh.

Your unsalvageable clothes from that day were properly disposed of—not even to a secondhand store, but to rot in a landfill, never to curse another young woman to the same fate as they had you. You pray Mother Earth forgives your negligence in light of this young woman aching to find herself again among the rubble. You’re positive she would understand.

Forced smiles are coming forth a little less forced. Laugh lines recarving their way into your cheeks. A bit of color in them, too.

And you think, as long as you can make it the next several weeks without having to endure his imposing presence, you should eventually be restored to your rosy-cheeked glory.

Easy.

“You gonna join us for the game today?”

You glance over your shoulder as you put the dried plate from your lunch into the kitchen cabinet. You smile at your dad who’s poking his head into the kitchen with an excited expression. “Sure! Sounds good.”

“Alright, perfect. Starts in just a few.”

You nod in acknowledgment until the phrasing of his words catches up to you. “Wait, you said ‘us’? Who else is com—?”

You’re interrupted by a swift knock on the door, and then it swings open to reveal…him.

No no no no. God, please, no. Don’t do this to me.

But there he is. Case of beer in hand and a wrinkled smile, welcoming himself into your home without permission. Your fingers clutch at the counter.

Has he ever asked for permission even once in his life?

“It’s game time, bud!” He announces jovially, saluting your father as he closes the door behind him.

“Hey, ya old fart!” Your dad laughs in response, racing to give him a hefty pat on the shoulder and snag the beer from him—never one to burden his guests with anything. You’re sure he didn’t even ask Joel to bring over beer, Joel just did it to be nice.

To be nice. What a fucking concept.

Joel’s wide smile crinkles his eyes, following your father as he heads back to the kitchen to stow the beer on the counter.

When his eyes meet yours, the sincerity in them wavers. Morphs into something far filthier. He licks his lips in what you’re sure is a subconscious reflection of exactly where his thoughts have plummeted.

You suddenly become hyper-aware of your own outfit. Black spandex shorts and a cropped tank top. And there isn’t a shot in hell that Joel hasn’t noticed. In fact, his eyes are now glued to your fucking chest, only shifting to drink in the length of your legs, the meat of your thighs.

“And this one’s gonna be joinin’ us!” Your dad reveals with a proud smile, planting a hand on the side of your head and bringing it toward him to drop a kiss onto your hair.

“Is that so?” Joel utters, the fire in his eyes raging as he forces himself to pry his eyes from your body to your face as to not give himself away to your father.

No I won’t. I can’t. How do I get out of this?

“Actually, I’m not sure, I’m not feeling too well,” You pull out of the air, feigning a wince.

“Oh, don’t break my heart, sweetie,” Your dad says, his eyes growing sad. “How about you just lie down on the loveseat? You know I love when you watch with me. Means the world.”

God fucking dammit.

You know he doesn’t mean to guilt trip you. And you can’t blame him for being completely clueless to the undercurrent of the situation at hand. He only sees the best in people. Definitely can’t see the heat in Joel’s eyes that hasn’t simmered down since he locked eyes with you.

You sigh and tilt the corner of your lips upward to your dad at your side. “Okay, okay. I’m just…I’m gonna go change into something more comfortable.”

“There’s my girl!” Your father presses another grinning kiss to your scalp.

Not wanting to spend another second in these clothes with Joel’s gaze perpetually dressing you down, you dart through the living room past Joel, decidedly blocking out the way he definitely checks your ass out on the way.

With your door closed securely behind you, you collapse back into it, slamming your eyes shut and taking slow, steady breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. A phantom ache alights between your legs like a vivid memory or…or a premonition.

God, please not that. It’s just a memory. It has to be.

“Game is ‘bout to start, sweetie bird!” Your father calls from downstairs.

“Yeah,” You reply, only realizing after a moment that your voice had barely broken a whisper. You clear your throat and send back, shakily but louder, “Yeah, be right there!”

You rustle through your drawers to find the least sexy comfy clothes you can find, settling on baggy sweatpants and an oversized tee. Not a line of your body shape showing, not a strip of skin below the neck. You even slip frumpy socks over your feet as the sickening memory of his mouth on them threatens to manifest itself physically from your stomach.

You give yourself a final nod in the mirror and take a deep breath.

You can do this. You can do this for your father.

“Hey beautiful girl,” Your dad greets you as you make your way back down stairs and burrow into the love seat. Of course Joel is lounged on the side of the couch closest to you, his knee level with the cushion where your head lays.

“Stop it, dad,” You mumble, fixing your eyes on the starting pitch on screen.

Your dad engrosses himself in the gameplay immediately, shouting his interjections and gesticulating with a beer in hand as the game progresses.

For being in a pretty comfortable position, you have never felt less relaxed. Joel’s hand stays put on his knee, but it keeps flexing periodically, stretching his fingers out and clawing them back into his denim. You don’t allow yourself to look at him, but there’s no doubt his eyes are fighting not to stare at you for too long.

Every now and then, when your dad lets out a particularly emphatic exclamation, you can see Joel jump out of the corner of your eye. Like he’s been caught. But he never is.

After a couple hours, Joel’s hand gets a little more bold, sliding onto the cushion inches from your face and threatening to brush his pinky against your skin.

That has you leaping up from your seat, maybe a bit too hastily with the way the two men whip their heads toward you. You note that Joel snatches back his hand into his own lap.

“Gonna grab some water,” You mutter, refusing to meet Joel’s gaze.

You scurry to the kitchen, releasing a much needed deep breath at your momentary freedom. You snag a glass from the cupboard and fill it with ice water from the door of the fridge. You then open it briefly, scanning the contents for anything that catches your eye, or anything to stall going back into the living room.

He would never try anything with your dad at home. No more than little brushes, charged looks. Nothing that can’t be hidden. Nothing like…last time. One yell and your father would come running. You’re safe when he’s home. You can do this.

You end up just closing the fridge, fruitless. Right as the door swings shut, your breath catches in your throat as you spot an unexpected Joel leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. You startle with a yelp, the grip on your glass slipping and sending it shattering to the floor.

“Fuck!” You squeak, looking around and snatching the towel off of the oven door handle to clean up the mess.

“Everything okay, sweetie bird?” Your dad calls with concern from the other room.

Joel responds with a grin before you can say anything, “‘S’all good! Just scared the bejesus outta her. I’ll clean up my mess.” And then Joel is grabbing some paper towels and crouching next to you. “Think we both know I’m good at cleanin’ up the messes I make, don’t we,” He says low with a wink.

You flick your eyes up to him, but don’t say anything, gathering what you can of the ice that’s rapidly melting.

“Got a habit of gettin’ yourself all wet around me, don’t ya?”

You ignore him, bundling up the ice in your towel and pushing yourself up to dump it in the sink. He follows right behind, pressing up against you and pinning your stomach to the counter with a deep inhale as you freeze completely, ice melting slowly into the towel.

“Not gonna talk to me today?” He whispers into your neck.

You roll your shoulder up at his head to shoo him off, your face contorting with discomfort. “Please back up, Joel.”

“Mmm, love how you say my name, sweetheart,” He rumbles, persisting past your indication of unease.

Hearing that name, your stomach seizes up and you release the contents of your towel into the sink with a jilted motion. You inhale abruptly with a sharp gasp as something—a hidden shard of glass, you guess—slices through the palm of your hand. Blood immediately sprouts to the surface as you clutch your wrist in surprise. “Fuck!”

“Oh shit, sweetheart, let me—”

“Dad!” You scream out instantly, luckily resulting in your desired response of Joel immediately backing away and putting ample space between the two of you as your father rushes in.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” His eyes automatically lock on your grip on your injured hand. “Oh, honey, you gotta be more careful,” He expresses as he beelines for a cabinet and retrieves a first aid kit.

“I’m sorry, I thought it was just ice.”

“It’s alright, honey. We’ll get it wrapped up, okay?”

Your father rummages through the kit as you run your hand under the faucet. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you despite your father’s presence, and you desperately try to ignore the way your hair stands up on the back of your neck—like prey sensing a predator.

“Ah, shit, we’re out of antiseptic,” Your father sighs, “Must’a used it up last year when I gave myself that nasty gash on my arm. I’ll have to run out and grab some.”

You hurry to say, “It’s fine dad, I promise. I don’t need it.”

“It’s not a problem. Won’t take long.” You hunt for an excuse as he lays gauze on your wound and bandages it up with medical tape. “That’s a very ugly cut, honey. I don’t want it gettin’ infected.”

“Your daddy’s right, darlin’, I think he should go.”

Your shoulders hunch slightly at the sudden sound of Joel’s voice.

Your father lays a kiss on your forehead. “I won’t be twenty minutes. Thirty, tops. Why don’t you go lie back down, honey.”

“What about Joel?” You ask, trying to stuff down the quiver in your words.

Your father makes a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Joel’s a grown man, he can entertain himself.”

That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.

“Game’s still on, I’ll be fine,” Joel interjects.

“My thoughts exactly. I’ll be right back, sweetie.” Your dad gives you a peck on the head and goes out the door to the garage.

“Dad, please…” You whimper after him, knowing there’s no way he heard you before the door echoes shut after him.

Your eyes remain glued to the closed door as you feel your pulse begin to race.

“Your daddy said to go lie down, sweetheart.”

Your eyes fall closed as you swallow nervously. When they open, Joel is in front of you, that look in his eyes. The same one from last time.

Last time, when your “fight or flight” activated, your body shut down into “freeze” instead.

You know better this time.

Without giving him any chance to move, you gun it out of the kitchen, leaping over the remnants of shattered glass and directly to the stairs up to your room. Joel lunges at you a second too late and tears after you at a frightening speed for a man his size, his age.

A second before you can slam your door, a large hand wraps around the edge of it and wrenches it open. You stumble backwards toward your bed, your hands held up in front of you in sheer terror. The look in Joel’s eyes is far past hunger. It’s ravenous. Primal. Chest heaving with exertion.

“Joel, please…” You beg, the back of your knees hitting the bed. “Please don’t.”

He advances on you slowly, fingers already working on his belt. “What makes you think you can brush me off like that, little girl? Hmm? Ignore me when I’m talkin’ to you?”

“I just didn’t…want…” You whimper, searching for your best escape route when Joel clutches your chin in his hand aggressively.

“Didn’t want what? Didn’t want Mr. Miller to give you what you been beggin’ him for?”

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t know why you been dodgin’ me the last few weeks, sweetheart. I know goddamn well I gave it to better’n you’ve ever had it before. Better’n any of those little boys your slutty cunt’s already taken.”

You cringe at that word. God, you fucking hate it.

“My dad is gonna be back any minute,” You say, grasping at straws.

“Oh sweetheart,” Joel coos, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb, “Don’t worry. This won’t take more’n twenty minutes. Not after watchin’ you all afternoon. Even in these sloppy lookin’ clothes. I still know ‘xactly what’s under ‘em.”

Joel’s face turns ruthless as he grabs the back of your neck and forces you down over the edge of your bed, bending you at the waist.

“Please stop!” You cry out in a desperate sob, fighting against his unyielding hold as he uses his other hand to muscle down your sweatpants and panties. You would barely be able to tell you were struggling at all if it weren’t for the strained grunts Joel made as he worked.

You don’t expect the heavy smack that falls on your asscheek, and you jolt forward with a yelp.

“Stay fuckin’ still, you little bitch. Pissin’ me off,” He threatens, shoving you down more securely with another hand between your shoulders. He lifts his hand from your neck and finishes pulling himself out of his pants, rock hard and dripping.

“So much more docile last time, sweetheart. What’s gotten into you?”

You wrestle and push up against his hand, but he just slams you down harder and kicks your legs as far apart as he can with your pants bunching at your thighs. He leans his weight into you more fully as he bends over you.

There it is again. That fucking smell. Stale beer. Pine soap. Sweat.

Your lips throb as you smash them together, fighting down the urge to vomit.

His hard cock seats itself into the split of your ass as he weaves his fingers through your hair at the scalp and jerks it back.

“You don’t stop movin’ and it’s gonna get much worse for you, little girl. I got a few options on where I could put this cock and I think I’m choosin’ the nicest one. Don’t think I won’t choose another.”

A shot of blind terror sears through you as he fits his free hand between the two of you and brushes a dry thumb over your other hole. “How about right in fuckin’ here, huh?”

In a panic you sputter out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll be good! I promise!”

“You gonna behave?”

“Yes,” You confirm, your bottom lip quivering as the tears begin to well up in total defeat. He releases your hair and your head falls forward, plummeting into your duvet.

“Good girl. We can work up to that sweet little asshole when we got more time, huh, darlin’?”

Joel lands another harsh blow to your ass and an obscured sob racks its way through your body. Your fingers ache with the iron grip you have on your bedding as you feel him prod at your entrance.

“Not quite as ready as last time, are you, sweetheart? Not enough time to get you real juicy for me.” His cock disappears from your hole and you choke off a gag as you feel a warm wad of spit splash onto your pussy. Thick fingers work the lubricant over your folds and into your hole, followed by another fresh round of saliva. “There we are. Nice and ready for me now.”

You scrunch your face in anticipation as Joel notches at your entrance once more. You hear him spit again, but you don’t feel it until he starts to press inside and his cock glides with it along the shaft. You bite into your hand to stifle your cries as he slides into you with one stuttery thrust, your walls not quite wet enough to smooth out the movement, but not so dry it drags too much.

“Come on, sweetheart, gimme a little somethin’ to work with here,” Joel mutters as a hand reaches between your legs to play with your clit and more spit expels from his mouth. He humps into you with shallow thrusts as he attempts to wake up your body to its current predicament. You finally feel it responding, providing more lubricant and easing the slide of his cock inside you. “That’s it, baby, just like that.”

Joel pulls out more fully now and fucks back in with more force, hands gripping hard at your hips. “Fuck, I love you like this. Get to see this beautiful, young little ass under my fingers. See it jiggle when I fuck my big cock into you. So fuckin’ pretty.”

He slaps your ass again for emphasis and grunts when it causes you to clench around him inside you.

Hearing him talk about your body like this, like your youth is a badge of honor for him, has your stomach churning. You feel his arm dive under the hem of your shirt to grope at your tit, pinching at your nipple while his cock pounds relentlessly inside you.

“Fuck, these perky tits. Could lose myself in them all fuckin’ day. Squish ‘em around my cock and fuck ‘em til I blow my load all over ‘em.”

Even if you were in a position to talk, you couldn’t express how much you fucking hate that idea. The way he feels so fucking entitled to every part of your body, not a single part of it you’ve offered up willingly.

You whine into your hand as his thrusts get faster, more frantic as his window of time shrinks by the minute. “Mmm love those little sounds, sweetheart. Keep moanin’ for me. Yeah, you love this fuckin’ cock, don’t you? Couldn’t wait to get it again.”

You curse yourself for letting any sounds slip at all, but the force of him knocking into your hips has your clit bumping the edge of the bed. Another whimper has him grunting and speeding up even more. “Fuck, gonna make me come with those noises baby, oh fuck.”

Joel slams into you a final time and then pulls out of you with a groan, stroking wildly behind you for only a couple seconds before you feel him hot and wet over the globes of your ass and the small of your back.

He pants as he crashes onto his back on the bed, a rogue hand petting at your hair in a vaguely sympathetic gesture. “Such a good girl for me. Took a second, but I knew you’d warm up for me.”

He peeks at his watch. “And a few minutes to spare, too. Time ain’t no thing. That tight little body got me shootin’ my load like a teenager, shit.”

Whatever wetness from your eyes didn’t soak into the sheets is drying on your face. You sniffle briefly and wipe at your eyes with the back of your uninjured hand, mostly just a reflex at this point.

“C’mon, let’s get you in bed,” He invites, standing to wipe the mess from your skin with an old shirt on your floor and put your bottoms back into place. He starts to lift your legs up for you, but you snap back at him.

“I can do it myself.”

He holds his hands up in defense, a cruel juxtaposition of the same gesture you’d raised at him mere minutes ago. “I’m just tryin’ to help, sweetheart.”

“You’ve done enough,” You bite back coldly, wrenching your legs up and curling yourself into a ball.

“Hey now, don’t be like that, darlin’.”

You crane your head with a glare to look back at him. He honestly looks pretty pathetic—his flaccid cock hanging out of his jeans with his spent, sagging balls in a bed of unkempt hair, his wrinkled shirt rucked up over his slight paunch. Every inch a desperate old man.

Anything you were going to say, you think better of when you fully take in the image of him. You lay your head back onto the mattress and tighten up the little bundle you’ve made of yourself, cradling your now throbbing hand to your chest.

“Don’t get all fussy about it. I’m doin’ you a favor.”

You scoff.

“I am. I’m showin’ you what men out there want from you. You’re nothin’ but tits, ass, and a few holes to them. Better you find out now than when you start gettin’ serious with one.”

A rogue tear sheds down your cheek into the bed.

“Once you’re older, men won’t want a goddamn thing to do with you. They want somethin’ tight and young. I’m givin’ you pleasure while you’re still worth somethin’. Should be fuckin’ grateful.”

The garage door creaks to life downstairs and you hear Joel shoving himself back into his clothes.

“Hey,” Joel calls at you, pausing for only a moment and continuing when you don’t respond, “Not a fuckin’ word. You hear me?”

You bite into your cheek and give him a single, jerky nod from where you lay. He must take that as satisfactory, because you hear the door close behind him and his hurried stomps down the stairs to maintain his façade of the innocent, kind-hearted neighbor.

You shiver as you lie there, violated in your own bed, that man’s release still burrowing its way through your skin despite it drying into the cotton of one of your shirts. Another shirt you’ll have to throw out, just like the first one. Just like your favorite bikini.

Is there any fucking thing you own this man won’t destroy?

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#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #katy wroted fic #dark!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

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romana-after-dark · 9 months

Text

Keep Cry'n

Joel Miller x reader

Join dark!Romana's tag list Dark!Romana's Masterlist

Shout out to the girlies in the Whorefully yours discord for encouraging my dark side lol

Summary: Joel kidnapps you, but can't even wait long eough to put his dick inside you to cum. (Reader is rather Little One coded but this is a completetly separate fic from The Wrong Way)

Warnings and Content: NON CON, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT !!!!!! Hair pulling, kidnapping, masturbation, cumming on face, dirty and degrading talk, crying, dacryphilia, Joel is really psycho in this, maybe a lil off his rocker. Implied future abuse. Literally like so much crying.

DONT LIKE IT, DONT READ! If you do not wish to see rape on your feeds at all, i suggest blocking the tags such as non con, dddne, dead dove do not eat, and depending on preferences maybe dub con, yandere, or dark fics. No judgement if its not your thing!

*****************

Your head hurts. So bad. That was all you could think about as Joel dragged you off his house and up the porch by your hair with no regard for how you were supposed to keep up with his long stride. Scalp on fire, you scramble to stand but it seemed he would purposefully yank at you just to make you stumble.

You can hear him smiling as he speaks, the outline of his cheeks giving away the wide grin if you can look up long enough to catch a glimpse. “Pretty fucking girl. Gonna make such a nice little toy.”

He doesn’t care that you're crying. He doesn’t care that he took you away from everything you know. He doesn’t care that you are scared. He wants to use you.

Your hands are tied behind your back so you fall on your face when he trusts you onto the shitty mattress, dirt being inhaled into your lungs.

“Just gotta be good for a few days, pretty baby, ‘till I get tired of you and move onto the next shiny thing. Think you can manage that?”

Sobbing, you nod. You can do this. You can…

Your confidence wavers as he stands above you, palming himself and moaning. “Oooohhh fuck, such a pretty little baby, uuuuuuuuhhhhhhhuhuhuuuh” Joel sucks his breath in through his teeth, then shutters it out. “Get the fuck over here.” Joel reaches over and yanks on your hair again, pressing your face up against his jeans-clothes crotch. His musk was strong, the smell of his dick was sweaty and masculine and you could not help but feel just a little turned on. You couldn’t help it; it was biological, primal, evolutionary.

With your hands still tied behind your back, you were helpless to the way Joel ground your face up against himself, his hard cock prominent despite the stiff material. Fingers entangled in your hair, Joel trust his hips up in your face as you sob, “Fuck baby, keep cry’n, I can feel your tears on my dick.” Joel pressed you tightly up against his crotch, your mouth pressed over the outline of his member and muffled your cries as they turned into attempts to scream. You wanted to bite but you knew better.

When he finally let go, allowing you to sit back on your haunches and breath, Joel unzipped his pants and thrust them and his tighty whitey’s down in one go, his massive cock hanging heavy between his legs. A sick man, Joel gripped your face in his large, rough hands to gather up the wetness before he fucked his fist.

“God, I need to cum right fuck’n now” He grumbled to himself as he furiously pumped the extensive length. “Ain’t got time to- oh fu-u-u-ck, ain’t got time to fight your pants off.” Joel lets out a loud groan, bucking his hips as his breath shutters before looking down at your crying and shaking figure. “Oh fuck, you look so scared!” He has the audacity to chuckle, smiling at you as he gently nudges you with his boot just to see you cry more. He jerked harder and harder, his cock red and throbbing inches from your face. “There we go, fuuuuuck! Uh, uh, uuuhhhggg” Ropes of white began to spurt out of him, Joel grunting aggressively mixed with huffed out chuckles, a wide, joker-like grin on his face as his eyes sparkled with mischievous possibilities for the future.

Joel took his softening dick and wiped your tears and his cum with it. “Pretty little thing… goddamn… make’n me cum without even touching me, fucking fantastic.”

You feel the wetness on your face, a mixture of fluids painting you up like a picture.

Joel pushed you down onto the bed, not even bothering to pull up his pants as he pulled you on his naked body, sighing. He takes a knife out of his pocket, however, and cuts off your ties. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around him as you cry. You just wanted to be held, to feel touch and comfort and you didn’t care who it came from. “Oh god, princess…” He’s panting still, a crazy grin plastered upon his face as he stared up at the ceiling, laughing to himself. “Such pretty skin, such a pretty face…” Joel chuckled, long fingers massaging down your still-clothed body.

“Gonna be a lot of fun playing with it.”

*******************

First dark! joel one shot ina while, woozers.

Love me my crazy man.

Got a cool ask today for a dark triple frontier Will Miller that I loooooove that I will be working on after a few other WIPS.

Also got an idea for a dark!joel sugar daddy yandere vibes fic, a dark!William Tell, and a dark!Nathan Bateman. I also plan to work on a short series (3 parts maybe?) of a darker ending to tww where Joel wins.

If you like this, click the link at the top to be added to my ongoing tag list!

@fandxmslxt69 @moriartyyouwhore @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@hereforthepedrofanfic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and maybe @toxicanonymity might enjoy.....

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cozy-mp3 · 1 year

Text

hard feelings

abby x gn!reader

the aftermath of seattle is proving hard to deal with

word count: 1.6k(ish)

warnings: angst/hurt + comfort, abby is bad at processing feelings and so is reader, they're trying tho!!!, everyone cries, lev is mentioned a couple times, mentions of nightmares, kind of canon compliant?, not intended to be ellie bashing, only briefly proofread

a/n: honey, i'm home :D i promise i didnt mean to be gone this long!! i just got out of the habit of writing + using this account, i'm sorry :( i wrote this to help ease back in to everything, i missed u all and i'm gonna devour all the stuff in the ellie + abby tags that i've missed tomorrow

abby is tired. she’s so tired she can feel the weight it, the way her limbs feel like they’re almost too heavy to maneuver, the way her mind feels fuzzy around the edges like she has to pause before each passing thought in order for it to make sense. she can’t let herself sleep though, because sleeping means she has to let down her guard. she knows couldn’t live with herself if something happened to you or lev, she couldn’t save her father or manny or owen, she couldn’t protect them and she lost them and she can never make that mistake again.

a smaller, weaker, more ashamed part of her can also admit it’s somehow easier to sit out here on the deck, to watch the peaks of the cliffs for the shadowy figures of scars or wlf even though seattle is far behind you all. it’s easier to sit and watch and defend because that’s what she’s good at, she can’t listen to the way you and lev whimper in your sleep from nightmares, the way the two of you toss and turn and thrash to get away from things she can’t see.

she doesn’t know how comfort you, she can’t lie and say everything will be ok, she’s never been good at lying to you and she’s hesitant to fill you with false hopes, even more so lev, to treat you both like you’re too slow to see some vague, distant goal even, if it would bring you some comfort. but she can do this, she can sit out here with her gun in her lap and a mug of shitty instant coffee by her side and protect you both so that you won’t have anything to add to the things that scare you from your sleep.

she startles when the door to the cabin open and you slip through, you footsteps muffled by your thick, fuzzy socks. she can almost pretend nothing over the past week happened as you shuffle over to her in your old checkered pajama pants and a hoodie that’s soft and worn and smells like the detergent they used at the stadium. she can’t ignore your tired eyes though, the way they’re bloodshot from lack of sleep and haunted in a way she hadn’t seen before the girl from jackson and her friends had come to hunt her down. this is the only time she’s ever been glad she’s argued with you, that she hadn’t given in to your instance that you travel to find joel with her despite the fact you were healing from an injury at the time. she doesn’t think she believes in god or whatever prophet the scars worship, but when she thinks about that day too long she knows she could get on her knees and thank whoever, whatever, for preventing you from going on that trip.

you hesitate when you’re in touching distance from her and it takes you making a hesitant, aborted step towards her for abby to finally relax her posture enough to reassure you. she sets the gun down beside her cold mug of coffee, and with practiced ease, spreads her legs enough that they’ll be a comfortable cradle for your body before she holds her hand out to you. it doesn’t take long for you to get situated in her lap, your chin resting on her shoulder and your arms wrapped tight around her ribs, it’s a position you’ve been in countless times before.

“what are you looking for?,” you ask quietly, your voice tired and worn even to your own ears, it makes your brows furrow in discontent but there’s not much you can do to fix it. you shift and press your cheek to the firm muscle of abby’s shoulder, your eyes trained on the vast expanse of ocean behind her, it’s still dark enough that the moon casts a white reflection on the small waves that crest and break gently against the side of the boat.

“nothing,” abby replies, her head tilting so she can feel more of your skin against hers, you’re soft and warm and familiar in a way that makes an uncomfortable knot form in her throat, “there’s nothing there,” she continues, clearing her throat instead of acknowledging the urge to cry.

you nod, not quite knowing what to say in response to her so you shift one of your hands to stroke the tense plane of her back instead. everything has been harder than it should be since you’d left seattle. you’d dealt with loss and pain before and you thought you’d grown out of nightmares about people and what they could do to you, it’s frustrating, feeling these emotions that you’d dealt with so easily before threatening to overwhelm you the way they are.

“you should be in bed,” abby tells you after a few minutes of silence, the continued lapping of the water at the hull of the boat and your combined breathing the only sounds in the quiet still of the night.

“so should you,” you counter, shifting backwards on her lap so you can look at her face, your hand cupping her jaw, “come back with me?,” you question gently as you stroke the pad of your thumb over the skin beneath her right eye, she has tired bags that look dark enough to be bruises and the left side of her face is partially covered with gauze to protect a cut that you know hurts more than she lets on.

“i can’t,” she starts with a frustrated pinch between her brows, “i need some fresh air, i’ll come in later,” she sighs, unable to bring herself to tell you about the way her chest seizes with anxiety whenever she isn’t within arms reach of a weapon, that she convinces herself that behind every hill and peak along the coast the sniper who killed manny is waiting to take you away from her too.

“then i’ll stay,” you say, ignoring the long, suffering sigh abby lets out at your response as you lay your head against her shoulder again, “i feel better when i’m with you, so i’m staying,” you add softly to quieten whatever argument she was about to level you with, though you question if your honesty was the best response when her arms tighten around you and she makes a choked sound in the back of her throat.

“don’t say that,” abby mumbles, her lips brushing your hairline and her eyes burning with tears, “god, please don’t say that,” she says a little louder as she shakes her head, “this is all my fault, i ruined your fucking life, you should hate me,” she continues and with a start you realize she’s crying, her tears falling hot and wet against your skin.

“oh, abby,” you whisper and once again you curse the way your mind seems to want to work against you, the way you can’t come up with comfort for her the way you could before, “i don’t blame you for any of this, abby, listen to me,” you plead, your hands desperate as they find her jaw once again, your fingers clumsily wiping away her tears, “listen to me, abigail, none of this is your fault,” you persist as sympathetic tears sting at your own eyes.

abby doesn’t reply, though she allows you to guide her head against your shoulder, to rub soothing circles into her back and hold her against you as she sobs. you find yourself carding your fingers through her hair the way you would after a rough patrol, your nails scratching lightly at her scalp in a way that used to make her sigh in contentment but now only makes her cry harder.

she cries for long enough that your knees are beginning to get stiff where they’re bent either side of her, but the pain is dull enough to be ignored, especially as her sobs quiet down into strangled, hiccuping breaths that she lets out against your neck. you don’t force her to speak but you do steer her head away from you, just far enough that you can use a knuckle to wipe away the tears that cling to her lashes and to the tops of her cheeks.

“i love you,” you tell her a few moments later as she reciprocates the gesture, her calloused thumb brushing away the wetness on your cheeks, “i’ll always love you, ok?” you ask, using your hold on her jaw to finally force her eyes to meet yours so she can see that you aren’t just placating her.

“i love you,” abby replies, her eyes red rimmed and puffy but her gaze genuine and steady on yours, even as you bend down to kiss her forehead, “god, we’re a mess,” she mumbles with a wet laugh after she’s pressed a brief kiss to the corner of your mouth, her grip on you loosening as you stand up and tuck her hair behind her ears.

“it’s ok, we’ll work it out together,” you reassure her, giving her the best smile you can muster, weak but honest, “come back to bed with me?,” you ask again, wrapping your fingers around her wrist to gently tug her to her feet. she makes a face like it’s painful but allows you to help her to her feet and lead her inside the cabin, her steps clumsy enough that it gives away her exhaustion but willing to follow you regardless.

it’s warm and dark inside despite the dawn that was lightening sky you’d left behind and lev’s sprawled out across the mattress you share, his breathing deep and slow as he sleeps. it takes a moment to manoeuvre yourself and abby around him without waking him but you manage, settling under the covers and letting abby tuck your head beneath her chin. she insists on sleeping with her back to the door and you’re both so exhausted that you can’t fight her, but as you close your eyes you promise yourself you’ll talk about it with her in the morning, all of it, you’ll work it all out.

#abby x reader #abby anderson x reader #tlou2 x reader

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geralt-of-baevia · 2 months

Text

Call It What You Want: Chapter Three

pairing: nooutbreak!joel x f!ofc (Violet Fletcher)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 2.4k

summary: Seeking solace from a painful breakup, Violet relocates to a tranquil town, purchasing a neglected house to renovate. In her new neighborhood, she befriends Harlow, who introduces her to Joel, a gruff and seasoned contractor with a heart of gold. Despite Joel's initial grumpiness, Violet finds herself drawn to his expertise and hidden kindness.

As Violet immerses herself in home renovations alongside Joel, their dynamic begins to shift, with Joel unexpectedly opening himself up to the possibility of love. Their budding relationship faces challenges as shadows from their pasts emerge, testing their newfound connection.

warnings/tags: uhh, i'd say maybe just warnings of injury? that's the biggest one honestly. talks of the age difference, too. And fluff 😉?

a/n: hi guys! i hope y'all liked the first chapter. this chapter is a short one, but don't worry! the next one is much longer and event filled muahahahah.

“So, what do you do?”

Joel looked up at me from the spot on the deck he was working on, sweat dripping from his brow. I crossed my arms over my torso, making sure to stay balanced on the railing where I was sitting.

“What’d’ya mean?” he asked, hammering a nail into a board.

“Like for work. You said you’re a retired carpenter, so what do you do now?” I asked.

Joel stood up straight, wiping his brow on the back of his forearm.

“I’m a school bus driver.”

“Are you a grumpy bus driver or a nice one? Do the little kids love being on your bus route? Or do you always yell at them to sit down and be quiet?” I asked.

“I’d like to think I’m a nice bus driver. I’ve only ever made one kid cry, so I think that’s a good track record.”

I raised my eyebrows mockingly. “Only one?”

“I swear to god, cross my heart and hope to die,” he said, crossing his chest with his finger.

“So that’s why you’re not working right now, huh? You get summers off.”

“Yep. It’s a pretty good deal. I like havin’ summers off. I get to do whatever I want-”

“Like sweating your ass off in the heat fixing bad wood in a deck?” I asked, cutting him off.

“I’d rather do it in weather like this than the pouring rain. That’s a fuckin’ pain in the ass,” he stated. I shrugged.

“That’s fair I guess.” I lifted my arms up to stretch and was hit with the unfortunate smell - of myself. I must have made a face as I threw my arms back down because Joel let out a chortle.

“Can’t stand your own stink? That’s pretty bad,” he jeered. I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t help it! It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack right now, and the house does not get cool enough. Now was not the time to find out the air conditioning is shotty,” I said in a huff.

“Oh don’t worry too much about it. I’ll bring you over an air conditioning unit for your bedroom that we’ll use as a temporary solution until I can get things to fix the A/C,” he said. Joel picked up another board and a few nails before nailing into place next to the last one he had finished.

“But, with that said, I think I’m going to go take a cold shower. It’ll cool me down and I can wash the coating of sweat I have on me off,” I said, hoping down from the railing.

“Well, this shouldn’t take much longer, maybe 30 mins. Are you sure you can’t wait that long? Then I can go up and install the new curtain. What you have going on up there still scares me,” he said, not looking up from his hammering.

“Joel, I’ve had it like that for three months, it’s fine. And if I wait any longer my stench might knock me out,” I laughed. He looked up at me and rolled his eyes.

“Oh whatever, I’ll be fine,” I said with a fake scoff, heading inside.

I was hit with warm, stagnant air. Even though it was hot outside, at least the air was fresh. I went around downstairs and opened a few windows on both sides of the house to get airflow going before going upstairs. After getting the shower started, I opened the window and went in and opened my bedroom window as well. As I walked back to the bathroom I could already tell the difference.

Once I was in the shower I immediately grabbed my bar of soap and washcloth and began scrubbing my body down, especially my armpits. I could hear Joel hammering outside, it echoing through the open window.

A school bus driver. Not what I would expect from him, but at the same time it suited him very well.

I set down my bar of soap on its holder and the wash cloth along with it before moving onto washing my hair. As I picked up my bottle of shampoo, I accidentally knocked down my bar of soap.

“Shit,” I mumbled to myself, puting the conditioner back down. I went to step to the side to be able to reach down and grab the rogue soap, but I stepped on it instead.

It all happened so quickly. My foot came out from under me and knocked me off balance. I hit my shoulder against the shower wall as I fell. A sharp, stabbing pain struck me. Instictually I tried to grab for something with my non-injured arm. The only thing to hold onto though was the shower curtain.

I grabbed onto it with a slippery hand and pulled it down with the force of my fall, ripping one of the bolts hold it up out of the ceiling. As I landed painfully into the tub, slipping down towards the drain, the bar once holding up the curtain hit me on the forhead. A searing pain masked my face.

All I could do for a minute was sit there, my arm throbbing and my vision tunneling a little. I looked down into the drain and saw the water stained pink, meaning my forehead injury wasn’t merely a bruise, but a cut.

Once I broke through the haze of shock, I started shouting.

“Joel!” I yelled, thanking the heavens I had opened the windows.

Nothing.

“Joel!”

Nothing, again.

“JOEL! I fell and need help-”

Before I could finish my sentence, Joel practically burst through the bathroom door out of breath.

“Violet, what the hell happened?” he asked. He started to take a few steps towards me then stopped, his eyes widening. I knew it had just sunk in that I was bleeding and naked in the tub, the water still going and hitting me in the chest.

“Um, I fell on my soap and hit my arm and now it really hurts and I think the blood is coming from my head,” I told him, trying hard to not let the tears welling in my eyes to blink over. I grabbed the shower curtain and covered myself as best I could.

“Can you please come turn the water off?”

He nodded and came over and turned the knob, the water ceasing with a loud squeak.

“Okay, first here.” I watched as he searched through the cabinet until he found a washcloth. He returned to the tub and placed it in my hand before taking it and leading it up to my forehead. “Put pressure here. We don’t want you bleeding too much.”

“Joel, what about my arm. I don’t feel like I can move,” I said in a whine.

“Not at all?”

I shook my head.

“I have an idea, hold on.”

I laid my head back against the cool porcelain of the tub and closed my eyes, it helping the throbbing that was starting in my head. When I opened my eyes again Joel was standing over me with a towel in his hands. I closed my eyes again, my eyelids feeling too heavy to hold open.

“Okay, I’m going to lay this over you and then scoop you up,” he stated. I nodded, not opening my eyes. “Violet, Vi - you have to keep your eyes open.”

I felt one of his hands grab my face, shaking it gently. My eyes opened slowly. I was surprisingly comforted by his face being so close to mine, his deep brown eyes locking with mine. “You gotta keep your eyes open and stay awake, okay?” I nodded.

Through my haze of pain I saw Joel open the towel and lay it over me. He pulled out the shower curtain from between me and the towel, throwing it to the side.

“Alright, you’ll need to put your good arm around my neck,” he started, leaning down to get closer to me. I felt him move my arm, and with a grunt I was being raised up by strong arms. My body immediately melted against him, his warm chest feeling comforting.

“Which room is yours?” he asked.

“Two doors to the right,” I told him. We started moving again, and before I knew it I was being laid down gently on my bed.

“Alright, what clothes should I grab out for you?”

“What are we going to do Joel?”

He chuckled. “We’re taking you to the hospital, Violet. You have a gash on your forehead and you more than likely dislocated your shoulder.”

“So that’s why I can’t move it and it hurts like a motherfucker?” I asked before adding, “Just pick something out for me to wear, shorts and a shirt. I don’t care.”

He went over to my dresser and started looking for the items I asked for. “Yes that would be why. Once I was camping with my brother Tommy, and I dislocated my shoulder falling during a hike. Tommy popped it back in for me. It was some of the worst pain I’ve been in, but it made it feel better instantly,” he said, coming back over to me.

“That’s so comforting,” I jeered, “now help me get dressed.”

Joel hesitated momentarily but then began helping me get my clothes on. He was patient and helpful, in a way that made me wonder if he was a dad before, or maybe even an Uncle. Once we got to putting on my shirt, we both stopped, not sure how to go about putting my shirt on.

“Here, hold on, maybe this will work,” he mumbled. As he tried to gently put the shirt on over my arm, I clutched the towel to my chest, not wanting anything to slip.

Somehow we got my shirt on, but now my shoulder hurt more.

“Joel? Are you able to put my hair up in a scrunchie for me?” I asked, pointing to my bedside table. Joel nodded and went over and grabbed one of the scrunchies that laid on top of the table.

To my surprise, Joel put my hair up with ease. I relaxed a little as his hands skillfully ran his fingers through my hair and pulled it back.

“Alright, I’m going to go shut all of the windows, and then we’ll get you downstairs and into my truck,” he said with a nod before disappearing out into the hallway.

While he was away doing that, I got to my feet to put on some slippers. I hobbled across the room to my dresser and slid on my shoes. Joel was taking what seemed too long for me, so I ventured out into the hallway to see where he was. When I got to the top of the stairs, I looked down and saw Joel beginning to come upd.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, rushing up the stairs to me, “lets take you down gently and with my help, we don’t need you falling down the stairs, too.”

He moved to the side with my good arm and wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me firm and still as we walked down the stairs. Joel took them at my pace, letting me walk down them one by one when I was ready until we got to the bottom of the stairs.

I told Joel where my wallet was, and after he grabbed it and my keys by the door we headed out to the hospital. He had an old beat up truck and I was thankful for the bench seat in it, allowing me to curl up after Joel put my seatbelt on over me.

When we got to the hospital, Joel parked by the entrance of the emergency room. He rushed into the building, returning momentarily with a wheelchair. Joel brought it over to my side of the truck, opened the door, and helped me sit in it.

Once we were in the hospital, Joel helped me check in at the front desk and we were told to wait in the waiting room. Before we left the counter, the nurse handed Joel a clipboard and a pen.

Joel wheeled me over to the corner of the large waiting room and parked me next the empty seat he took a seat in.

“Alright, so you haven’t been here before so they want you to fill out this form. And something tells me you’re not left handed…”

I giggled. “No, I’m right handed. Will you fill it out for me?”

“Sure. Alright, first one: full name.”

“Violet Christine Fletcher.”

“Date of birth?”

“August 23rd, 1992.”

He paused for a moment to do the mental math. “You’re 30?”

“Yes, I’m 30. How old did you think I was?” I asked.

“I thought you were closer to 25,” he responded, signs of relief playing over his face. I rolled my eyes playfully.

“People have thought I was younger my whole life. I guess as I get older that’ll be a good thing,” I said. “How old are you?”

“My birthday is September 26th, 1967,” he stated, mumbling out the year of his birth. I giggled.

“That’s why you’re retired, you’re over 55,” I said with a cheeky grin. He looked over at me and gave me a worried look, genuine panic on his face.

“So… how do you feel about me being 56?” he asked, his voice cautious. My heart began to pound in my chest, almost making me forget about the pain in my arm.

“I don’t have any feelings about it,” I told him sincerely. His face softened, his eyes crinkingly as he smiled.

We filled out the rest of my admission paper, and then we got down to the ‘emergency contact’ section.

“Who would you like me to put?” he asked, tapping at the section with the pen.

“Oh, um, honestly I’m not sure. I could put Harlow because she’s across the street, I could always text her-”

“I’ll just put me, it’s no big deal,” he said. He filled out the information needed and under ‘relationship to patient’ he wrote down ‘friend.’

“Aww, I’m your friend?” I jabbed. He shook his head with a smirk.

“I’m going to go take this to the front desk. Don’t go anywhere, okay?” he joked, giving me a playful wink as he got up.

Getting my shoulder put back into place was one of the most painful things I had ever had happen to me. I gripped Joel’s arm so tightly that I left nail marks on his skin. The doctor put my arm into a sling, telling me that I needed to keep it on for at least three days, icing it off and on. The gash on my head got five stitches and a large bandage over it.

I only got bits and pieces of the information he was giving me. The pain meds they had given me had fully kicked in by that point. I was thankful that Joel was being attentive and taking note of everything.

After a few hours I was discharged with a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds. I was going to bring up to Joel that I was going to ask Harlow if I could stay with her while I was in my sling, but Joel beat me.

“I know we don’t know each other super well, but would you want to stay at my place while you were in your sling? At least tonight while you’re hopped up on pain meds,” he said with a smirk, “I only offer because Harlow will just be at work all day and not be able to help you.”

My chest began to rise and fall quickly, my heart pounding now in my chest even while drugged. Through my medicated fog I looked over at him in the truck and smiled a dopey grin at him.

“That would be lovely, Joel,” I slurred, “you’re so nice to me. And handsome.”

“You think I’m handsome?” he asked.

I nodded, my eyes closing without my consent.

“You’re what they call a silver fox.”

He chuckled. “Well, thank you, Violet.”

I started to doze off before I could respond again, leaving Joel sitting with the knowledge that I found him attractive.

Before I completely fell asleep, I heard Joel say softly, “And I think that you’re beautiful.”

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x oc #no outbreak au #no outbreak!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #tlou hbo

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softpascalito · 5 months

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Raised on little light - 2003!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You don't have anywhere to go on Christmas Eve. Much less anyone to celebrate with. A neighbour down the street turns out to be your personal Christmas miracle.

Relationships: Joel Miller xF! Reader WC: 1500 Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Forehead Kisses, First Kiss, Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Pre-Cordyceps Outbreak Joel (The Last of Us), Christmas, Christmas Eve, Author needs therapy (and sleep), domestic abuse Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: hello loves. today is another sad one. please read the tags. the abuse is not very detailed but it's there. this fic is very personal to me and (partly) based on how i spent christmas last year. any comments are very appreciated. i'm sending you all all my love <3 also i wanna mention that this has similar tropes to a longer story idea im working on so feel free to let me know if you like the vibes of this and would like to read more :) title from the song northern attitude by noah kahan and hozier

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

for everyone who has spent christmas alone.

The worst part is the shouting.

You can ignore the passive-aggressive snides, mumbles that reach your ears in passing. You can ignore the absence of the feeling of safety. You have even learned to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach when you apply another layer of concealer.

But the shouting seems to follow you. No matter how many rooms you put in between them and you, the sounds crawl through the house, slipping under doors and into hiding nooks that you’ve long outgrown.

It makes you freeze in your tracks, every time it starts. You stand still for a moment, listening, trying to hear what it is about, how bad it seems. There is always the gnawing fear of them running out of words and turning to actions instead. And despite the fact that you’re a grown adult, that you’re technically not the helpless child you once were, it still scares you like nothing else does.

It’s exhausting to exist in a violent house.

You silently let the front door fall shut behind you, stumbling a little as you make your way to the street. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own, carrying you out into the night without a goal in mind. Just get out of the house.

It’s surprisingly cold for Austin and you draw your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders as you move down the sidewalk. The houses on your street are lit up with Christmas lights, stars dangling in windows, colorful fairy lights wrapped around fences, a lit up reindeer figurine a few houses over.

A truck drives by, the engine humming quietly, before it pulls into a driveway two houses ahead of you. When you pass the house with your head down, the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut makes you jump slightly.

The voice that follows doesn’t.

“That you?”

It only takes Joel a few strides until he’s in front of you, brown eyes searching your body for god knows what. There is a brown paper bag in his hand but you don’t dare lift your head higher to look at his face.

“Whatcha doing out here? Escaping the family gathering?” He jokes lamely, remembering the way he used to sneak off during the holidays if it got too overwhelming.

“Something like that,” you mutter back, trying to put on something resembling a smile. Either it doesn’t work or Joel is too smart to be fooled by it. Because he nods softly, bending his back a little to try and get a look at your face, “Can you look at me for a second, darlin’?”

Oh, he’s so not playing fair. He knows exactly what that nickname does to you, especially coming from him. And he’s shamelessly abusing that.

You swallow, hard and lift your head enough for the porch light to hit you. Joel’s face instantly changes. The somewhat cheerful, joking manner he’d been in a second ago is replaced by concern and something else. Something that almost seems like anger.

He drops the bags of groceries to the floor, bringing both hands up to cup your face. He’s mere inches away when he suddenly stills, eyes softening a bit, “Can I?”

You give a small nod and right away, he closes the distance, turning your head a little to get a better look at the black eye that is undoubtedly getting worse by the second. He should get some credit for not flinching away, you think, for not pretending not to see it like everyone else does.

“You put ice on it or anything?” Joel mutters, his gaze flying over the rest of your neck, clearly checking for more injuries. You barely have time to shake your head no before one hand is on your back, steering you back towards the Miller’s house. “We’ll get you patched up, okay?” Joel asks softly. When he sees your gaze, he adds, “Won’t take long, promise.”

The mood inside the living room could not reflect yours less. There is a bright tree by the window, colorful lights twinkling away. You’re barely inside when you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and you stop in your tracks. Of course Sarah would be home. You’ve gotten to know her rather well this year, after she almost failed Biology last year and when Joel mentioned it in passing, you offered to help out.

You don’t plan on letting her see you like this. She’s smart, like her dad and your afraid that just like him, she’ll know instantly what’s going on.

Joel tugs on your sleeve, motioning for you to stay. Then he turns the corner, catching Sarah at the foot of the stairs before she can reach you. Her voice still carries through to you.

“Did you get the ice cream?” Joel chuckles softly, “I did, dessert is safe. Listen, I gotta- I mean, Santa’s gotta do some last minute preparations. You mind staying in your room for a bit? And no peeking.” The girl grumbles something under her breath but heads back upstairs and a moment later, you hear her door close, a small breath of relief escaping you at that.

Joel's head appears around the corner, “Come on. I’ve got some stuff in the kitchen.”

He pulls out a first aid kit, disinfecting your wound carefully before wrapping a few ice cubes into a towel and dabbing it against your cheek a few times before holding still. The cold immediately seems to work and you involuntarily let out a sigh of relief.

Joel smiles a bit, his hand still pressing the cool sensation against your skin, “That’s better, hm? Just don’t leave it on too long.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease, bringing your own hand up to take the towel from him. There is a small moment, merely a few seconds, when your hand sneaks below his, your skin pressed against him, somehow fitting more perfectly than you ever couldve imagined. It feels even better than the ice.

Joel let go after a moment, taking a step back and turning to the kitchen that is messy with dinner preparations.

“She made you get ice cream?” You ask softly, hoping to steer the conversation into a somewhat pleasurable direction.

“Yeah, yeah, she did. You know how she is,” Joel smiles softly. It doesn’t last long. He clears his throat, glancing down at his feet.

“Listen, I know it ain’t my place. But this is not- it’s not normal. Not even close.”

“It is to them.”

Your voice is quiet. You don’t even want to say it. But something about Joel has always made you open up faster and more intensely than you have with anyone else, “It doesn’t happen that much.”

“Ain’t supposed to happen at all, darlin’,” he argues softly. His eyes fly to the window for a second. There’s a string of lights hung up in it as well. You think there’s not a single one at your house. You were raised on little light.

“We’re making dinner in a bit, Sarah’s pick, and Tommy can’t make it so we are one person short.”

You furrow your brows slightly, wondering for a moment why he is telling you about his dinner plans. But then- it washes over you.

“I couldn’t- I’m sure you have a lovely night planned and-”

“Won’t change if you’re there. It’ll still be a lovely night,” Joel says softly, nudging your foot with his. “Come on, let me- let me do this for you.”

You let him. There is dinner, luckily with no more questions about your slightly swollen face. Joel offers you some wine, lets Sarah pick a movie, pretends to hate that it’s some cheesy Christmas movie. You still catch him smiling at the screen throughout the film.

The teenager falls asleep halfway through and Joel gives you an apologetic look before he carries her to bed. When he comes back and sits down, his hand almost automatically finds your knee. Between the romantic movie and the second glass of wine, the atmosphere between you has changed.

“You know our door is always open, right? Sarah loves having you here.”

“Only Sarah?” You raise a brow, leaning into Joel’s broad form a little more and his eyes soften as he looks down on you, “You’ve had a long day. We shouldn’t add any more to that.”

“What if I want to?” Your face is hovering inches from his. You don’t remember even being this close to him, “Joel, please.”

He can’t resist your begging. He doesn’t think he could if he tried.

Christmas Eve brings you your first kiss with Joel. He runs his hands over your cheeks, always careful to avoid the bruise and even when you pull back to catch your breath, his mouth stays on your face, kissing your chin, your nose, your eyes.

He kisses your forehead an hour later when you’re wrapped into his sheets, after you’ve moaned and then cried immediately afterwards. He holds you through all of it, his voice barely a whisper to not wake Sarah.

“I like having you around too, darlin’.”

notes: thank you for reading. i love you <3

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coffeewhiskeyandotherdarkthings · 9 months

Text

Keep You (Until the End Prequel)

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

Series Summary: A single afternoon changes everything. A reflective on the ten years before leaving the Boston QZ.

Series Warnings: smut (m/f pairing, oral, intercourse, dom/sub undertones, a pinch of Daddy kink) angst, suicidal ideation, grief, mentions of child loss, cannon typical violence, infidelity, no use of Y/N, reader has nickname (of sorts), no explicit body descriptions

This is not an exhaustive list but should serve as an indication of the general content.

Word Count: 3.6K

ONE

The first time Joel Miller saved my life was an accident.

I thanked him by breaking his nose.

It was the tenth anniversary of Outbreak Day. When I woke up, I laid in bed, staring at the watermarks on the ceiling and listening to my neighbors fighting. Even with his yelling and her crying, I could still hear the steady drip of the bathroom faucet and I was hard pressed to decide which was worse. Above me, the ceiling fan chugged away valiantly, swaying almost violently with each rotation, and still doing almost nothing to alleviate the near stifling heat.

Today was the day I was going to die.

I was ready. More than ready, if I was honest with myself. I couldn’t say I’d spent the last decade living so much as surviving and I was exhausted even trying to do that. It took more and more effort and energy to go through the most basic, mundane activities—eating, drinking, brushing my teeth… breathing. God, the energy it took to force myself to breathe… there were days it took me an hour just to get out of bed because the energy I expended just forcing myself to breathe exhausted me too much to move. So I was ready.

The only thing left to do was actually die.

With the decision made, I got out of bed, going through the day to day minutia which was supposed to remind me that even though the world had essentially ended life still went on. As I brushed my teeth, I contemplated my options. Drugs and alcohol would probably be the easiest to procure, especially since my lack of appetite the last few months meant I had more than enough ration cards. But just because they were easy to find didn’t mean they’d be effective and while dying no longer scared me the thought of fucking it up and winding up in a FEDRA facility, unable to protect myself from the so-called medical professionals, definitely did.

I toyed with the idea of asking one of the regulars at the underground bar where I worked to do the task. I didn’t ask personal questions about any of the men who paid for the rotgut masquerading as whiskey with their ration cards and they didn’t offer any explanations for why they always had wads of the pseudo-currency to spend but it didn’t take a genius to figure out their bounty didn’t come from cleaning sewers or burning bodies. But again there was that fear of the job being botched.

That really only left one person—my boss.

He’d argue with me, lecture me, beg and plead, probably curse me up one side and down the other. But in the end, he’d do what I asked. And more importantly, he’d make sure it was done right. If I trusted anyone in the Boston QZ, it was Frankie.

With that last decision made, I finished getting dressed and left for work. I’d wait until the end of my shift to talk to Frankie. Hopefully it would be a low-key day with steady business and he’d be in a good mood when I asked him to help me kill myself.

For the first half of the day, it seemed as if my unspoken prayer would be answered. Outbreak Day tended to be a somber affair—too many people with too many bad memories. Even the Fireflies refrained from any actual activity, although there was always one idealistic idiot who felt the need to tag a wall with the terrorist group’s motto. The people who came in to drink kept to themselves, none of them pressing for conversation, all of them lost in their own dark thoughts.

So when Joel and Tess came in, I didn’t think anything of it. I knew them to nod at, although we’d never exchanged a single word and I doubted they knew my name. Whatever business they had with Frankie was either done after hours or back in his office and although I’d heard whispers about what that business was at the end of the day it didn’t concern me. Joel’s brother, Tommy, tagged along on occasion and while the other three handled business he’d sit in the bar, talking to anyone willing to carry on a conversation. He’d tried a few times with me before one of the afternoon regulars, name unknown, had finally told him to leave me the fuck alone and let me work in peace. Tommy had stammered out an apology before slinking outside to wait for his brother and he hadn’t spoken a word to me since, some three years later.

In the before, I would have found the whole situation amusing. Maybe teased the regular about being jealous of some other man getting attention from me. Maybe flirted with Tommy just because.

But this was the after.

Tess caught Frankie’s eye and nodded in the direction of his office. To my surprise, instead of following them, Joel parked himself at the bar, his back to the wall, his gaze sweeping from the entrance to the tiny hallway leading to Frankie’s office before shifting back to the entrance. Every few minutes he’d repeat the inspection, tapping his fingers to some internal beat. After fifteen minutes or so, he said, “Could I have a water, please?”

“Sure.” I’d never seen him drink anything else, although I knew he and Tess made the occasional trade with Frankie for alcohol. Maybe he was a private drinker. Or maybe he simply didn’t believe in drinking on the job. As curious as I might have been, it still wasn’t my concern. I set the glass in front of him and then for some reason said, “It’s on the house.”

He shifted his gaze, giving me the full weight of his stare, and I started to take a step back, catching myself at the last second and straightening my spine. Something crackled in the air between us, not electricity, not heat, but something which was the sum of the two and yet somehow more. After a moment, his lips twitched, just the faintest hint of movement, and he said, “Generous of you.”

Before I could respond, the door at the entrance slammed open and someone yelled, “FEDRA, incoming!”

The bar erupted into chaos, people scrambling to get their things and get the hell out. I grabbed the metal box which served as the bar’s currency drawer and tucked it under my arm, grabbing my sweater with my free hand and fighting against the flow of the crowd to reach Frankie’s office. Depending on who was leading the raid, he’d either have to pay a hefty fine/bribe or spend a few nights in detention but I’d be damned if I was going to leave ration cards out in the open for fucking FEDRA to line their pockets. I’d barely made it ten feet before Joel grabbed my elbow and asked, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m baking a cake, obviously.” I bit back a curse when someone easily twice my size trod on my foot but wasn’t able to refrain when someone’s elbow plowed into my right cheekbone. “Oh, fuck me!”

“Not the time.” He tightened his grip on my arm and began pulling me toward the side exit, letting out a curse of his own when I struggled to pull away. “The fuck are you doing?”

“Frankie.” My face was already beginning to throb and while I was sure I didn’t have a concussion I was definitely getting a headache from dealing with the older Miller. “Ration cards. Safe.”

“Fuck.” I suppose I should have been grateful he was able to piece my intentions together from those four words. Later, when my head wasn’t pounding, I’d try and remember to thank him. He glared down at me, working his jaw in obvious frustration, before shoving me in front of him, shielding me from the crowd as he guided us toward Frankie’s office. “Your boss needs to give you a raise.”

“Like any of us are getting paid in this fucking economy.” I wasn’t a small woman but the way Joel wrapped around me, blocking any errant blows, made me feel as delicate as a porcelain doll. “His office is—.”

“I know.” He pushed us through a knot of panicking teenagers and past the swinging door separating the bar from the back. The noise level mercifully dropped and I sighed in relief. “You know how to get in the safe?”

“One of them.” I waited for him to unwrap himself from around me, frowning when he simply continued moving us toward the office. “Uh, Miller?”

“Wait.” He shoved me into the office, spinning me around and backing me up until my legs hit the edge of the desk. “FEDRA’s in the bar.”

“Which would be why I’m trying to hide the damn ration cards.” I squeaked when he scooped me up and dropped me on the desk only to sputter unintelligibly when he stepped between my thighs, grabbing my knees and bringing them up to rest on his hips. “Wha—.”

“They are in the bar. They’re going to come through those doors any second.” He took the currency box, opening it and grabbing a handful of cards and flinging them around the room before taking a second handful and tossing them directly over our heads. I stared, dumbfounded, as the wrinkled scraps of paper floated down around us, while Joel yanked open the top drawers of the desk, throwing random pages around the room before shoving the box in one of them, burying it under layers of paper. Gathering the loose fabric of the back on my shirt in one fist, he pulled me forward until our bodies were flush against each other. He gripped my chin in his other hand, fanning his fingers over the side of my throat, his gaze guarded. “Don’t bite.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he brought his mouth down on mine.

For someone who’d just issued an admonishment to not bite, he kissed as if he was trying to devour me, all teeth and tongues and a desperation which didn’t feel entirely feigned. My mind blanked, completely and utterly, and for a moment I forgot the world had ended, society had ended, and I was actively doing my best to end my own life.

There was only the taste of him, dark and smoky, and the smell of him, salty and woodsy. I reached blindly for something, anything, to hold on to, to ground myself, finally grabbing his shoulders only to immediately slide my fingers into his hair, clutching the slightly damp curls at the nape of his neck. He tilted me back, following me, his mouth never leaving mine as he laid me down on the desk, crawling up and draping himself over me. When he flexed his fingers on my throat, I moaned, unable to help myself, only to gasp when he ground his hips against mine.

He broke the kiss, pulling back until our lips were barely touching, his breathing as ragged as mine. “Don’t. Don’t—.”

“Damn. Talk about a celebration.” There was something in the tone, a cross between a sneer and a leer, which not only broke through the sudden haze of lust but instantly made the entire scene feel dirty, sordid. I kept my eyes closed as Joel surged to his feet, pulling me with him and shoving me between him and the wall, once again shielding me. “Oh, look. This guy here thinks he’s a gentleman.”

“Something wrong, officers?” Joel sounded contrite, apologetic even, but his body was vibrating with tension. “We’re not breaking curfew, are we? I’ll admit we got a bit carried away, might have lost track of time, and—.”

“We’re looking for Franklin Stuart. Frankie.” This was a different voice, harsher, more professional, and somehow uglier for the lack of emotion. “Seen him?”

“No, sir.” There was a shuffling noise and then I felt Joel take my hand, squeezing it once. “Babe?”

“No.” I forced myself to open my eyes, shifting until I was just able to peek around him, making eye contact with one of the FEDRA officers before ducking behind Joel again. “No, sir.”

“This is his bar. His office.” Mr. Professional sounded suspicious and I focused on controlling my breathing, doing my best to ignore the sweat dripping down my back. “And neither of you know where Frankie is?”

“Honestly, sir, wasn’t really paying attention to where we were.” Joel’s voice deepened, taking on a faint twang. “Kinda had my mind on other things, if you catch my drift.”

“Right.” Mr. Professional tapped his fingers on his weapon. “Got carried away.”

The silence stretched out, growing thinner and tighter with each second, and I felt Joel’s spine stiffen vertebrae by vertebrae. I resisted the urge to squirm, to try and dig the flip knife out of my back pocket, although what it would do against semi-automatic weapons, I didn’t know. Finally, in the breath before I knew the tension would snap, Mr. Disgusting said, “He’s not here, man. You wanna arrest’em for screwing in public, go ahead, but I’m not gonna spend the afternoon doing paperwork for a couple of hornballs.”

“You’ve got ten minutes to clear the area.” Mr. Professional barked out the order, already heading for the door. “We see you again, you’re going to detention.”

Neither of us moved until their footsteps faded away and then Joel strode out of the room, pulling me with him. Exiting through the back door, he continued pulling me down one alley and then another, seemingly picking side streets at random, and even though I considered myself familiar with Boston QZ, it didn’t take too long for me to become hopelessly lost. After walking at least a mile, if not further, I yanked my hand from his, ignoring the fleeting disappointment at the loss of contact. He turned to me, the annoyance evident on his face.

And I punched him.

I didn’t even realize I planned to do it until the force of the blow was singing up my arm, my knuckles immediately protesting the violent act. Letting out a string of profanity, I cradled my now injured hand, vaguely aware Joel had bent forward, both of his hands cupped over his nose. He straightened, glaring at me over his hands. His words were muffled but still clear enough. “You broke my fucking nose.”

“Your face broke my fucking hand.” I gasped when he snatched my sweater, still somehow clutched in my hand, wading it up and pressing it to his bloody face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Are you?” He grabbed my empty, uninjured hand and once again began pulling me down the alley. “Goddamn it. Fucking broken nose.”

“I’m gonna break something else if you don’t tell me what the fuck you’re doing and where the fuck you’re taking me.”

“Someplace safe.” He glanced over his shoulder at me and he should have looked ridiculous with a pastel pink sweater, smeared liberally with blood, covering the lower half of his face, but if anything the absurdity of the makeshift bandage made his scowl that much more intense. “Where FEDRA won’t look for you and we can both get some first aid.”

I laughed. “Why would FEDRA be looking for me?”

“Because they’ll have rounded up a few people who couldn’t get out in time and one of them is going to talk. One of them always does.” Another glance over his shoulder, questioning, accessing. “And when they talk, they’ll talk about the bargirl, because you’re less scary than Frankie. And then FEDRA will come looking for you.”

“Fine, they’ll come looking for me.” I scoffed. “What’s the worst thing they can do? Kill me? Big deal.”

He stopped so abruptly I couldn’t help running into him, cursing when my nose smashed into his back. Taking a step back, I scowled up at him. “What? Are you trying to break my nose to even the score?”

“No.” He matched my scowl, although I was willing to admit to myself his was a great deal fiercer than mine. “No. Just… come on.”

For the next half hour or so, I stared at Joel’s back as he zigzagged us through narrow streets and back alleys, wondering how I’d wound up in this situation and why I wasn’t doing more to get out of it. Finally, we reached a five story apartment building which had clearly seen better days and he pulled me up the stairs and into what had no doubt once been a grand foyer. Glancing around, I said, “Let me guess—we’re going to the top floor and the elevator doesn’t work.”

“Even if it did, you’d have to be crazy or stupid to risk riding in an elevator that probably hasn’t been serviced since the start of the outbreak.” Another narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder, not bothering to hide the internal assessment he was running. “Or you’d have to have a death wish.”

“Hmm.” I met his gaze, widening my eyes. “Well, lead the way. Onward and upward.”

When we finally gained the top floor, he dragged me halfway down the hall, giving a cursory knock on the door before pushing it open. Only then did he finally drop my hand, lowering the now ruined sweater at the same time. “See you didn’t have a problem getting out.”

“Frankie had me out the back door and a block away before the first agent was in the bar.” Tess strode across the room, cupping Joel’s face in her hands for a moment before pulling him into a swaying embrace, not sparing me so much as a glance. Drawing back, she studied him, her brows drawing together as she frowned. “What happened to your nose?”

“Took a hit from an elbow trying to get out.” The lie rolled so smoothly off his tongue I almost believed it myself even though my hand was still throbbing like a rotted tooth. “Bargirl was deadset on stashing Frankie’s bank, got her hand smashed in the office door, slipped on the stairs and nearly bashed her face in.” He didn’t shake off Tess’s hands so much as ease away from them and despite myself I tucked the little exchange away to be mulled over some later time. “Figured it’d be in our best interests to take care of Frankie’s employee.”

“Probably, yeah.” Now Tess did turn her attention to me, the hint of softness around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth shifting into a wary hardness. “He must pay you a lot to risk getting caught by FEDRA.”

“As I told Miller, like any of us are getting paid in this fucking economy.” We stared at each other for a long moment before I sighed, answering the unasked question. “FEDRA already has more than enough. Gets more than enough. I wasn’t letting those greedy fucks take anymore, especially from someone providing a community service.”

Tess barked out a laugh. “You call trading ration cards for alcohol which could double as industrial strength cleaner a community service?”

“I’d consider it in the same vein as getting pills from FEDRA factories.” Just because I didn’t concern myself with their business didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of the nature of it. “Some people need pills. Sone need cheap alcohol. We’re all coping in one way or another.”

Before Tess could answer, the door burst open behind me, Joel was already in the process of shoving both Tess and myself across the room before Tommy took more than two steps in the room. The younger Miller instantly drew up short, lifting both hands in surrender. “Probably should have knocked. Just heard about the raid, knew you had business this afternoon. Wanted to come and make sure you were okay.”

“We’re fine.” Joel bit out the words, gesturing to his face and then vaguely in my direction. “A little busted up but no permanent damage.”

Tommy’s gaze tracked to me, his mouth opening and closing in unconcealed shock for a moment before he managed to stammer out, “Right. The bargirl—Kay.” He cleared his throat. “Is that short for something, like a nickname or just… okay?”

“Yes.” Leaving it at that, I held up my injured hand. “I was promised first-aid?”

“Yeah.” Joel moved aside, nodding at his brother and then myself. “Tommy, you fix her up?”

And so on the night I’d planned on killing myself, I instead sat in Joel Miller’s apartment while his brother bandaged my hand and his partner watched me as if I was a stray dog in danger of turning rabid. And the next night, I answered a knock on my door to find the Miller brothers in my hall with empty frayed duffel bags in their hands and within two hours me and my meager belongings had taken up residence in the second bedroom of Tommy’s apartment, right next to Tess and Joel’s. And the night after that, I sat at the kitchen table with them as the three mapped out a smuggling run, Tommy explaining each step to me with limitless patience while Tess and Joel argued routes and targets and hazards.

And so Joel Miller saved my life by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And neither of us mentioned the broken nose or the conversation in the alley or the fact he watched me a little too closely, made it a point to make sure I was never alone for too long. I still wasn’t interested in living.

But Joel Miller seemed more than a little interested in making sure I didn’t die.

#joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou #joel miller x reader

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riacte · 3 years

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Dogwarts / 3rd Life Cheat Sheet for MCC 15 Purple Pandas

Ren and Martyn were buddies in Season 1 of the 3rd Life SMP and they are an alliance known as the Renchanting duo/ Kingdom of Dogwarts. Now they’re finally teamed up, and the 3rd Life SMP members have a habit of referring to 3rd Life in MCC. The Ren-Martyn fandom also talks about Dogwarts a lot. If you have no idea what is a Dogwarts and why people love them, no fear! This post will try to explain it in simple terms.

3rd Life SMP is a SMP started by Grian. Season 1 has 14 members (roughly half are hermits, other half are friends of the hermits. You can find the full list in the description of Ren’s 3rd Life videos.) Everyone on the server has three lives— the first life symbolised by green names, second by yellow names, third by red names. If you lose all three lives, you permadie. Green names and yellow names are not allowed to be hostile unless they were attacked first, but the goal of red names is to kill everyone on the server. The three lives are also symbolised by three hearts, like this:

(Fun fact: Because of the green-yellow-red colours, the subtwt for 3rd Life is called traffictwt after traffic lights. The 3rd Life tumblr fandom is occasionally referred to as trafficblr.)

3rd Lifers record every week for three hours at the same time with proximity chat. The server has a small border to encourage interaction. They are eight sessions in total, and they’re all cut into YouTube episodes (no streams!), so it’s fairly bingeable.

So what’s the deal with Martyn and Ren?

Ren decided to set up an enchanting shop during the first session. Martyn was wandering around and having fun scaring people with creeper noises until he came to Ren’s enchanting shop. Martyn then used Ren’s enchanting service without paying (essentially a robbery), but Ren let Martyn go on the condition Martyn would act as a walking free advertisement. Martyn agreed, and they became business partners. Martyn actually coined the name Renchanting and its motto “Don’t be a Dog, be a God”. Ren named Martyn as his “marketing manager” (which sounds a little like Martynmanager).

True to his word, Martyn went around and spread the good news of Renchanting to everyone. Martyn brought business to Renchanting, and when Ren was being threatened by customers (who harassed Ren into lower his prices/ giving out enchantments for free), Martyn acted defensive of Ren and even said Ren was being “bullied”. Ren was being taken advantage of because he was too nice. (Martyn did do some stuff not related to Ren, but since this is a Dogwarts cheat sheet I won’t be mentioning that.)

Then came GoodTimesWithScar. The main “villain” to Renchanting, if you will.

Basically, Scar was playing the role of a cartoon villain. He scammed people out of their armour and possessions, and eventually found his way to Renchanting. At that point, Martyn and Ren were loyal to each other. Scar asked for Ren’s enchanting table. In return, when Scar turned red, he would not kill Ren and Martyn. Ren appeared to be torn, but due to Martyn depending on him and the business, he refused Scar’s offer (“you can’t take the enchanting out of Renchanting!”). Scar also acted condescending to Martyn (Martyn was seen as Ren’s “minion”). So Ren and Martyn were officially on Scar’s kill list, but Ren did not regret it.

At some point, Ren got tired of people walking into his store and stepping all over him, so he built high walls around the Renchanting building. Everyone (including Renchanting themselves) broke through the walls, and this was a running gag. Ren declared himself king by wearing the crown he got from MCC9 Blue Bats.

Note: Ren was kind, and it was the cruel world that forced Ren to be defensive. Other POVs paint them as the villain but Dogwarts enthusiasts will say that is not the case AT ALL.

Time passed. Scar turned red. He and his buddy Grian set up traps at Renchanting, and one blew up Ren and a bunch of other people. Ren, now a yellow name, was furious, but could not get his revenge because yellow names were not allowed to hurt other players. So naturally, Ren decided to become a red.

Ren renamed an axe to “RED WINTER IS COMING” and gave it to Martyn to chop his head off. (There’s some dramatic roleplay here, highly recommend a watch.) Martyn painfully did, and the message “Red Winter is Coming” was shown in the chat, which told everyone that Ren meant business. To test Martyn’s loyalty, Ren told Martyn he could kill him if he wanted to. Ren, freshly respawned and without armour, punched Martyn. Martyn, as a green name, could attack Ren due to Ren attacking first. However, Martyn did not kill Ren, and dramatically declared Ren was the one who showed him life, and thus he would return the favour.

So Ren was known as the Red King (with grey skin, bloodied MCC crown, and a Scottish/pirate accent). Martyn became known as the King’s Hand, and called Ren “my lord” “my liege”. Later, Martyn acquired an outfit with a cloak and a red hand on the back of the cloak, which is now used to symbolise Martyn.

They established the Kingdom of Dogwarts (after Hogwarts and the enchanting/magic gimmick) to find more allies (notable ones include Ethoslab and Skizzleman). Allies could stick a Red Banner in their base to show loyalty, members were called Red Knights / Red Army.

A Red Banner (the design is supposed to be blood dripping down):

Without spoiling too much, Ren and Martyn remained loyal to each other till the very end. They were very dramatic (even jokingly called homoerotic by some lmao) and had many hardcore quotes, and are highly beloved. They are the most dramatic and RP intensive group on the server. So people want Dogwarts, the king and his hand, together again.

A small sample of quotes that might be referenced:

I think going red next week is in my fate. It’s in my cards. There will be blood, for this. A king cannot be king without war. (Ren)

I won’t do it! You took me in when I was a lowly traveller, goin’ across the lands, searchin’ the four corners of this world. I learned that there was nothing in this world for me. Nothing but walls, corners, edges. And you know what? You showed me life. As much as I’ve taken it from you, you gave it back to me in bucket fulls. and I just- I’m with you. This is us now. This is us. (Martyn)

If we're going to survive the Red Winter, we gotta do it together, laddies. Hand in hand. Rotten hand in hand of the living. To the end! (Ren)

It’s just the world versus us. (Martyn)

(Note: Dogwarts refers to the group of people allied with Ren and Martyn, including Etho and Skizzleman. Renchanting duo refers to Ren and Martyn ONLY)

Other references:

Joel notably screamed “THE RED KING DIES TONIGHT, FELLAS!” with a crowd of wolves following him

Dogwarts killed Grian and Scar’s llama Pizza because Scar stole a Red Banner

Jimmy and Scott were flower husbands. Jimmy thought Renchanting was going to sacrifice Scott.

Everyone else in MCC (Grian, Scott, Jimmy, Joel) were enemies with Dogwarts

The 3rd Lifers reference 3rd Life a lot despite it being over. Martyn even fought for Dogwarts in MCC14 and MCCP but failed. Haha.

The fandom commonly refers to Purple15 as King (Ren), Queen (False), Ace (Illumina), and Joker/Hand (Martyn) after playing cards.

This is it, I am tired, this is probably too long but I feel I skipped a lot of details. If anyone has anything to add or correct, feel free to do so. Also, I’m pretty certain this won’t appear in the tags, so please reblog! Thank you, and Red Winter is Coming.

(I might add a reblog detailing False’s very much fanon involvement in Dogwarts, and why everyone was so hyped for Renchanting + False.)

#3rd life smp #3rdlifesmp #mcyt #mcc #purple pandas #falsesymmetry #rendog #illuminahd #inthelittlewood #ria.txt #dogwarts #renchanting #long post #pls rb im sure this isnt in the tags lol

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nol-an · 3 years

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when our stars aligned || n. patrick

hello everyone! i’m super excited to finally be posting this slow burn, friends-to-lovers fic that has been in the works for almost a month now!

grab a drink and some snacks, this one’s 12.5k words (and not proofread oops)! as always, feedback is appreciated <3 enjoy!

__________

+ her

Your sweater-clad figure collapsed into your plush mattress as soon as you finished your last assignment for the day. After a hell week of university, you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your night de-stressing and indulging in the bottle of wine that had been calling your name since the beginning of the week. You wanted nothing more than to catch up on the Bachelorette —because who doesn’t love trash TV— and to coil yourself in blankets for the rest of the night.

On the other hand, your best-friend-slash-roommate, Maya, had different plans. She was fully convinced that the only proper remedy to your school-induced slump was a night out on the town. However, you knew that Maya’s plans for you would really just result in you third-wheeling her and her boyfriend, Joel. You don’t even need to ask your friend to know that Joel would be coming along too because the two were a package deal. Although you don’t mind Joel and think he’s a wonderful match for your long-time friend, the last thing you need is to be awkwardly tagging along with the sometimes overly-affectionate couple.

After a back-and-forth negotiation that seemed to last hours, you finally agreed to Maya’s proposition after she offered to wash the dishes and take out the trash for the next two weeks. You still expressed that you wouldn’t be happy if you came across any Bachelorette spoilers while you were out with Maya and Joel, but eventually, your mind became occupied by thoughts of what to wear. Deciding not to think too much into your outfit, you settled for a Pittsburgh Penguins pullover and your comfiest pair of black jeans. You sprayed yourself with perfume and glanced in your mirror one last time before leaving your room with the hopes of returning to your tempting bed soon.

As Joel’s car pulled into the parking lot of your and Maya’s apartment complex, you soon noticed a figure in the passenger seat. Squinting to see if you recognized the man, all you could deduce was that he had long hair and florid cheeks. Turning to Maya in confusion, your best friend looked unbothered as a grin spread across her face at the sight of her boyfriend. You trailed behind her as she jogged towards Joel’s car. She promptly gave him a peck on his cheek before giving the stranger in the passenger seat a hug. Huh, so maybe he wasn’t a stranger after all.

It only took you a few seconds afterwards to realize what was going on.

You were going to kill Maya.

As if she read your mind, your best friend waved you over to the car. Deciding to play nice for the sake of Maya and her excitement, you plastered on your best I-don’t-want-to-be-here-but-you-don’t-know-that smile, and greeted the two guys.

“Y/N, this is Nolan, one of Joel’s friends,” Maya explained. “I know you said you didn’t wanna third wheel, so Joel and I, being the wonderful friends we are, took what you said to heart,” she laughed as she watched your smile twitch a little.

It always took you a while to warm up to strangers and being your best friend of three years, Maya knew you were going to give her an earful after the night was over. So, she figured she’d at least have some fun while she was at it. Your eyes sent daggers in her direction before you waved at Joel and stuck your hand out to greet Nolan.

Other than his small smile that you would’ve missed if you weren’t as observant, Nolan didn’t give much indication that he wanted to be here, either. Great. You couldn’t read his expressions, but you hoped to god that this night wouldn’t be as awkward as you think it’s going to be.

Shortly after the introductions, you and Nolan are squeezed into the back of Joel’s car as him and Maya bicker over who should get the aux. Rolling your eyes, you turn to Nolan, who looks quite amused at the couple’s antics. Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to break the ice, you attempted to start a conversation with Nolan.

“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time you’ve been stuck in the same space as Joel and Maya, either?” you joked.

He chuckled and angled his body a little closer towards you. “Unfortunately it’s not. If I’m being honest, this is not how I envisioned my Friday night going.”

Immediately processing his own words, a blush formed across his cheeks. “I- that’s not what I meant. I mean, I’m sure you’re a wonderful person, but Joel told me that we were getting food with Maya. I didn’t know this,” he used his right hand to gesture around the car, “was his actual plan,” he explained.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips, your eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m in the same boat. No one mentioned that you were coming, but honestly, I’m glad I’m not third-wheeling because I wanna puke every time they get too lovey-dovey.”

Nolan nodded in agreement, “You know what, Y/N? I think we’re gonna get along just fine.”

Relieved that Nolan was a lot less intimidating than you initially thought, you agreed with his comment and thanked the gods that this night was starting to look up.

“But there is one issue,” Nolan spoke up.

Your raised eyebrows cued him to speak again.

“I don’t know how I feel about that Pens sweatshirt of yours.”

+ him

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” an amused Kevin Hayes emerged from his room. He’d been living with Nolan for quite some time now, but the last thing he expected was to wake up to the sight of his roommate organizing their apartment, dust swiffer and all. There was even a vase of fresh flowers that Kevin sure as hell didn’t buy or remember seeing last night.

“Isn’t it fucking obvious, Hayesy? I’m cleaning the place,” Nolan deadpanned.

“Ok firstly, no shit. I was hoping you’d explain why you’re cleaning. I didn’t even know we had this much cleaning supplies,” Kevin quipped back, glancing over at the array of window and wood cleaner that was haphazardly strewn across the kitchen counter.

“Y/N is coming over,” Nolan curtly responded. He didn’t need to turn his focus away from scrubbing away the stove top’s stains to know that his roommate had a shit-eating grin on his face.

“I thought you said the two of you were just friends?”

“Can’t friends hang out?” Nolan retaliated.

“Sure, they can. But why are you disinfecting this whole place? Teeks comes over all the time and you never do this for him,” Kevin pointed out. He knew Nolan enough to know that you weren’t “just a friend.” Nolan talked about you way too much for that to be the case.

“It’s the first time she’s coming over. I just don’t want her thinking we live in a pigsty,” Nolan started, “which is gonna be a little difficult considering you leave your shit all around the place. Plus, don’t act like you’ve never cleaned the place up when you’ve had someone over.”

Kevin was having a little too much fun messing with Nolan. “Okay, first of all, that was one time. And it was for a girl I liked,” Kevin enunciated his last word.

Nolan knew Kevin had a point, but he’d be damned if he let Hayesy know that. Nevertheless, Nolan’s silence gave it away, and that was all Kevin needed to rest his case.

“Deny your feelings all you want, but I know you like her — even if you don’t even know it yourself. Don’t be surprised when I say ‘I-told-you-so,’” Kevin laughed as he headed towards the front door. “m’Gonna head out, but text me if you need anything. Maybe confess your feelings for Y/N while you’re at it.”

Nolan flipped off his roommate. Sometimes he was sure that Kevin was a middle-schooler trapped in a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t you and him be friends without feelings being involved? Nolan was sure you only saw him in a platonic light and he was perfectly fine with that. If anything, he was glad to have met you — in the few months you’ve been in his life, you’ve become a breath of fresh air from his circle of Flyers friends. Sure, he didn’t think the two of you would talk again after the little number that Maya and Joel pulled, but he was glad that his friendship with you bloomed. Not only was he glad to know someone else to tolerate Maya and Joel’s shenanigans with, but he enjoyed how you made him feel like he didn’t have to maintain any facade. Your welcoming aura appreciated Nolan as the goofy, indie music-obsessed Winnipeg native — not a Flyers centerman who was more often than not, under the microscope of Philly and NHL media. He was perfectly content with the friendship and appreciated the soothing presence you offered. Wasn’t that enough of an indication that the two of you were just friends?

Within the next twenty minutes, three knocks on the door vibrated through the apartment, and Nolan rushed to the door to greet you. A smile gleamed on your face and you greeted Nolan with a hug. Although it was your first time hanging out at Nolan’s place — the two of you usually stuck to more public locations — nothing about the exchange was awkward and for that, Nolan was extremely thankful. He knew his quiet demeanor could sometimes scare people away, but you didn’t seem to mind it. Instead, you were patient with him and understood that the two of you would become more comfortable around each other as time wore on.

After setting your bag down on the key table, you casually dove into a story about how you nearly couldn’t make it to Nolan’s apartment because you were convinced you lost your keys.

It was nice, nothing felt stiff and Nolan was relieved that the two of you were able to skip the formalities that usually occur when someone visits for the first time.

Once you wrapped up your story, you finally took the chance to look around Nolan’s home. From the look on your face, Nolan knew you were expecting the place to look different. Whether or not that look was a good thing, however, he wasn’t sure.

“Nols, if I’m gonna be honest here, I was not expecting you and Kevin to have such an organized place,” you laughed, your light-hearted tone indicating that you meant it in the nicest way possible.

Releasing the breath he was holding, Nolan chuckled a bit. “Well, don’t get used to it. It’s only this clean like once a month,” he laughed while scratching the back of his neck. He almost contemplated telling you all the trouble he went through to make sure the apartment was clean for you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head told him not to. Probably a good call. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Yea, water would be great,” you sat on one of the kitchen’s bar stools and watched Nolan pad over to the fridge. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as you peered into the relatively empty fridge.

The hockey player rolled a chilled water bottle over to you, perplexed by your reaction. “If you have something to say, say it to my face,” Nolan attempted to intimidatingly say. His cheery voice and sheepish smile gave away his tough-guy act, though.

“Just wondering how you have like three things in your fridge. What are you supposed to make with two carrots and eggs?” you chuckled.

Nolan feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that my ultra-busy schedule doesn’t let me go grocery shopping much. You should be honored that I was able to fit you into my agenda.” It wasn’t a lie that time didn’t permit Nolan to go shopping for food often, but he knew that if you wanted to hang, he would’ve found a way to make it work. But that’s normal, right? Friends can be excited to hang out with friends, right?

“So I’m guessing your pantry is just as bad?” you inquired.

“Ever the detective, Y/N,” Nolan confirmed. He opened the pantry door, gesturing to the several empty shelves.

Seconds later, the two of you got into a conversation about your favorite snacks. Nolan wasn’t sure how he found so much entertainment from talking about cookies and chips, but he wasn’t complaining. The discussion eventually moved over to the living space of the apartment, where you and Nolan settled on watching “How to Get Away With Murder” before promptly resuming your increasingly-heated debate on the best snacks.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore, Nols. How could you possibly like goldfish more than cheez-its?” you seriously questioned.

“They’re the superior snack, can’t do anything about that. That’s like asking me to choose between indie and country music, no competition,” Nolan shrugged.

Promising Nolan that you’d one day convince him otherwise, you let the conversation slowly fade out as the show started. The next few hours passed by in a blur. There were some side-conversations here, and there, but the two of you were mainly focused on the show and enjoying each other’s presence.

You’re not sure when it happened, but you and Nolan started sharing the same blanket. Minutes later, you were curled into his side, your head resting lightly on his right shoulder. You were so close to him that you could feel his body rumble with laughter every time you made a witty comment. Despite the position the two of you were in, things didn’t go further than that. You didn’t think much of it and based on Nolan’s concentration on the show, it didn’t seem like he gave it much thought, either.

It was nice. More than nice, really. You became so comfortable that you had to keep yourself from dozing off. Every once in a while, Nolan’s hand would play with your hair, his gentle movements nearly lulling you to sleep.

Eventually, you two found a good stopping point and you told Nolan that you should start heading home, not wanting to overstay your visit. Although Nolan protested, you insisted that you would definitely find another time to see him soon and that he should hang out with Kevin, who had gotten home just a few minutes ago.

“Text me when you get home, alright?”

“Yea, of course. Don’t watch any episodes without me, okay?” you said, sticking out your pinky to make Nolan promise.

“Only if you bring over some of your homemade chocolate-chip cookies that you talked about earlier,” he bargained.

“Deal,” you waved goodbye to Nolan one last time before slipping out the door. “Tell Hayesy I said hi,” you hollered from down the hall.

Speaking of the devil himself, Kevin walked over to Nolan once he shut the door. Before Kevin could even wipe the smirk off his face, Nolan stopped him.

“Just friends, Hayesy,” Nolan reaffirmed.

+ him

Another few months passed on, and everything proceeded as normal. You and Nolan’s bond inevitably grew, and he could confidently call you one of his best friends. You two made an effort to hang out at least every other week, and your plans ranged from short weekend getaways to study sessions where Nolan attempted to help you cram for tests. Nolan loved every second he spent with you, and he was more than grateful that Maya and Joel had introduced you to him. Eventually, the hang-out regimen that you and Nolan had developed started wavering as the universe had different plans for you two. You had totally forgotten about a major ten page paper you had to do and with the season starting soon, Nolan was back to practices and workout sessions nearly every day.

You two texted and FaceTimed, though, so not all was a lost cause. Especially for Nolan, it felt as if he was spending every minute of his free time talking to or texting you — not that he minded it, anyway. The text conversations were always light-hearted and mostly consisted of funny tweets and song recommendations. Even when you and Nolan called, your minds that were typically flooded with thoughts of school or hockey became more relaxed upon hearing the other’s voice.

After wrapping up a morning skate with Travis, Nolan checked his phones for any notifications.

Hayesy: Y/N is here. Not sure why but she was looking for you.

With panicked eyes, Nolan tried to think of all of the reasons why you’d be at his apartment. The blood nearly drained out of his face at the thought of making plans with you and accidentally forgetting, but he reassured himself that there was no way that was the case.

Is she okay???? Nolan quickly texted before running into the showers.

Nolan had never showered and changed that quickly, and he was almost positive that he put his shirt on backwards as he ran to his car. He mentally cursed Kevin, who for some reason thought it was acceptable to send him a cryptic text about you without any follow-up. You were usually good about texting Nolan about any updates to your life, so Nolan couldn’t help when his mind started conjuring worst-case scenarios.

Once Nolan got to his apartment complex, he sprinted up dozens of flights of stairs thinking that they’d be faster than the elevator. However, coupled with his growing soreness from his earlier workout, each step on the stairs sent rays of pain through his legs and a regret for thinking the stairs would be a good idea.

After it felt like he had run a marathon, the hockey player finally reached his door. He frustratingly searched for his keys, hoping to god you were okay.

Nolan swung the door open with so much force that he was almost sure he’d have to tighten the screws on its hinges. “Y/N?” Nolan called. His frantic eyes searched for your figure, but he was instead met with the sight of his roommate.

“You just missed her,” Kevin replied from the kitchen. In his hand was what looked like a cookie, and behind him was at least three grocery bags. “I told her to stay because I figured you’d be home soon, but she seemed like she was in a rush. Something about a paper she had,” Kevin elaborated, his mouth full of the cookies. “Did you run here from the rink or something? You look like shit,” Hayesy jokingly noted.

Nolan rolled his eyes at his roommate and sighed, genuinely relieved to know that you were alright. As soon as any of the fears of you being hurt left his system, Nolan started thinking about how he would’ve been able to see you had Travis not persuaded him to run extra drills. It had felt like centuries since he last saw you, and seeing you even just for a second would have undoubtedly made his day better. Dammit, Travis.

Deciding he didn’t want to endure any of Kevin’s teasing, Nolan suppressed his disappointment and tried to subtly get more details out of his roommate.

“She didn’t text me about coming over. What did she need?”

“Well, after making fun of us for our empty fridge and pantry, she said gave me all of these bags,” Kevin gestured to the bags behind him. “Said she visited a grocery store nearby and figured she could get some stuff for us, too,” he continued.

A smile graced Nolan’s face as he recalled the conversation you and he shared about his grocery shopping (or lack thereof) habits.

“She also brought over these cookies she made, but I think I’m gonna have to take these for myself,” Kevin grinned, reaching for another cookie from the tupperware container. “Why do my ‘just-friends’ never bake me cookies?” he nearly moaned at the taste of the treats.

“Maybe because you have no restraint and eat cookies that are meant for your roommate, you jerk,” Nolan remarked.

“Hey, I was being nice by telling you she brought these cookies over. If I really wanted to, I could’ve hid these. You can have a bite, though,” he stuck out his already half-eaten cookie in front of Nolan’s face.

Flipping Kevin off, Nolan walked over to the counter with the bags. Pulling out their contents, he slowly started placing everything in the pantry and fridge. In the second bag, he found a box of cheez-its with a small piece of paper tacked on the top.

Doing you a favor by buying you these, no need to thank me. Miss ya lots <3

Under the message, your name was messily etched onto the lined paper along with a smiley face. Nolan could almost hear your feigned-snarkiness through your note.

Once all of the groceries were put away, Nolan returned to his room. He immediately plugged in his phone before pressing your name under his FaceTime contacts. It only took a couple of rings before you picked up. Your hair was in a loose ponytail, large glasses covering your face. You looked exhausted from the stress you were undoubtedly experiencing because of your soon-to-be-due paper, but your positive personality radiated through Nolan’s phone screen nonetheless.

“Should I feel guilty that my snack collection was so pathetic that a busy college student felt compelled to take time out of their day to buy me food?” Nolan joked.

“I felt guilty that we had been friends for months before I found out that your pantry was that pathetic,” you laughed. “But seriously, don’t worry about it. I was in the area and I know you’ve been super busy recently so I figured I could help you out. The cheez-its were the first thing I saw in the store and I thought of you and that conversation we had when I came to your place for the first time,” you sheepishly responded.

Every few seconds, your eyes would dart back to your laptop, where you were taking notes. Nolan knew that you would never want him to think that he was calling you at a bad time, but the laptop’s reflections on your glasses gave away your act. Of course he felt bad, but he was momentarily distracted by the warm feeling that overcame him. It was such a sweet gesture, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t get butterflies at the sound of your confession.

“Y/N you didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it. Thanks for the cookies, too. Pretty sure Hayesy destroyed half of the container before I even got home,�� Nolan laughed.

“Oh, gosh,” you started, “in hindsight I probably should’ve texted you to let you know I was coming over, but I wanted to surprise you.”

Upon hearing you words, Nolan’s beaming smile grew impossibly wider. And to his dismay, the butterflies came back for a second time.

“Hey, I gotta go but I promise I’ll text you soon. My prof is out for blood with this assignment,” you groaned. “Maybe we can do dinner at your place now that you have more than two things in your fridge.”

Nolan laughed off your banter and nodded in agreement. He felt like a giddy school girl. “Yea, yea of course. We can pick up on ‘How to Get Away With Murder’ while we’re at it.”

“It’s a date,” you flashed him a thumbs up. “Oh, and I think your shirt’s on backwards,” you giggled and tugged at the collar of your own sweater to emphasize your point. Luckily for Nolan, you hung up before you could see his embarrassed expression.

Had it not been for the fact that you called your upcoming plans with Nolan a “date,” he would have cared more about his shirt issue. But, here he was laying in his bed and already counting down the days until he’d get to see you again.

He knew you meant it as a friend date, but could you blame him for envisioning what it’d be like to go on a romantic date with you? He wanted to bake homemade cookies with you, run his fingers through your hair when you were stressed from school, and become consumed in pointless conversations about anything and everything with you. Hell, he even wanted to help you proofread your school papers, even if he’d have no idea what the fuck the Pygmalion Effect is. He adored so many things about you and was more than willing to jump through hoops and hurdles if it meant he could be your source of happiness and support.

And that’s when Nolan knew he was in trouble. He had never let his mind drift this far, and he usually had enough self-restraint to stop himself from envisioning you as his girlfriend. He knew he needed to stop before he dug a hole for himself that he wouldn’t be able to get out of. But if he was being honest, Nolan quite liked the warm feeling he had from the thought of calling you his.

Oh god.

Nolan was so far gone for you. Kevin knew it, his teammates probably knew it from the dozens of times he managed to bring you up in conversations, and now he certainly knew it for himself. What he didn’t know, however, was if you felt the same feeling of anticipation in the pit of your stomach at the thought of being more than just friends.

+ her

After your FaceTime call with Nolan, you finally gathered enough motivation to finish your paper. You weren’t sure if it was because of your excitement to see Nolan or because you were sick of staring at your screen, but you were nonetheless relieved when you sent off the finalized version of your work.

The two of you eventually settled on meeting at his place on Saturday night, which was only a couple of days away.

If you were being frank with yourself, you knew that you were catching feelings for Nolan, but how could you not? He has immaculate music taste, is a great listener, and always knows the best ways to make your off-days better. Not long after you met him for the first time, you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take long for you to want a more-than-friends relationship with him. In fact, it was frightening to acknowledge how much better your life has been now that Nolan is involved. You were a little embarrassed that he was able to sweep you off your feet as quickly as he did, but you couldn’t control how you felt. Well, that’s at least what you kept telling yourself.

You weren’t entirely sure how to deal with your feelings for Nolan. You relied on familiarity and stability in your life, and if Nolan didn’t reciprocate your feelings towards him, there was no doubt all hell would break loose — at least for you. Per every rom-com you’ve ever watched, you were fully aware that unrequited feelings, in most cases, was a one-way ticket to a doomed and awkward friendship. If confessing your feelings towards an indifferent Nolan meant that your friendship with him would be jeopardized, you would gladly keep your thoughts to yourself.

It was hard, though. Sometimes he treated you like you were the only person in the room, and other times, it felt pretty clear that he only saw you in an extremely platonic light. Of course none of your friends could tell the difference between your interactions with the centerman because they always teased the two of you about needing to finally date each other. However, his mixed-signals convinced you that you had a chance with him on some nights and that you were overthinking everything the next.

As much as you wanted to tell Maya about your dilemma, you knew that she was terrible at keeping secrets. In any other circumstance, you would’ve told her that you liked someone the minute you found out. However, considering how her boyfriend’s a teammate of Nolan, it would have been game over if Joel knew. As much as he prided himself on having a tighter seal on secrets than Maya, he wasn’t much of an improvement from your best friend. You considered telling your other friends because you desperately needed someone to vent-out your feelings to, but you didn’t have the energy to explain how you ended up being wrapped around the fingers of a Philadelphia Flyers player.

So, here you were, in bed and confused. You were counting down the days until you’d get to see Nolan again, but you also wish you had more time to figure out what to do about your feelings. Part of you told you that you could handle pushing away your emotions for the few hours you would be with Nolan. The other (and more obnoxious) part of your brain, though, sent blaring red sirens through your body at the thought of your Plan A. It warned you that internalizing your feelings was a terrible idea and that no matter how tempting it would be to pretend like you weren’t falling for Nolan, maybe it’d be better to just rip off the bandaid and tell him.

You went back and forth between your two plans and were sure that if anyone could take a look into your brain, they would be faced with thoughts that were racing around at a million miles per hour. (And they’d probably have pity on you.)

As if someone was witnessing your inner turmoil fetter within you in real time, it seemed like your prayers for more time were answered when you fell ill with a cold Saturday morning.

Sure, it wasn’t ideal. You sure as hell were not enjoying your congestion and occasional chills, but at least you had plenty of time to sort things out. It was disappointing to know that you wouldn’t get to see Nolan, but he was extremely understanding of your issue. He reassured you that you shouldn’t feel guilty for bailing, especially since you were sick. He even made you promise that you would get plenty of rest and that you wouldn’t apologize for something you couldn’t control.

With those words from Nolan, you took your promise to heart and slipped into a much-needed slumber.

+ him

“So, Patty, care to explain to Teeks what you were planning to use these candles for?” Hayesy teased as he plucked a tealight candle from its spot on the kitchen table.

Kevin knew you and Nolan had made plans for dinner, and he also happened to know that Nolan finally came to terms with his feelings for you. As much as he chirped the younger hockey player, he was glad that Nolan wasn’t beating around the bush anymore. Kevin adored you and had no doubt that you were a perfect match for his friend.

Travis, on the other hand, looked extremely confused. With furrowed eyebrows, he shifted his focus from the television to Nolan, who was sending death glares at his roommate.

“Well, I, um-” Nolan was cut off by Kevin.

“Patty here was gonna have a super-romantic, candle-lit dinner with the girl he’s been pining over for ages,” Kevin excitedly cut to the chase. If a bystander didn’t know any better, they’d think that Kevin was more ecstatic about the dinner than Nolan.

Those words definitely caught Travis’ attention. He got up from his spot from the couch and joined his two friends in the kitchen. “Wow, Pats,” he playfully shoved his friend's shoulder, “took you long enough. Was fully convinced I was gonna have to do something about your weak game.”

Nolan’s eyes widened upon hearing TK’s comments. Was he really that obvious?

He could barely comprehend his feelings for you just a couple of days ago, and he definitely didn’t tell Travis about these newly-discovered feelings yet. He didn’t even plan to tell Kevin about it. He fully intended to have you be the first to know, but Kevin managed to get Nolan to crack.

“Ok, fuck off,” Nolan mumbled. Sure, he was a little slow at realizing his feelings, but better late than never. “Y/N was supposed to come over for dinner tonight, but she’s sick,” Nolan explained. He purposefully left out the fact that he was toying with the idea of confessing his feelings for you after the now-cancelled dinner.

“Oh shit,” Travis was the first to speak up.

“Does that mean you’ll be cooking for us instead?” Kevin added, wiggling his eyebrows towards Nolan and fist-bumping Travis.

“No, I don’t know what it means, but I can tell you right now that there is no way in hell I’m cooking for you two slobs.” Nolan replied. “I was thinking of bringing soup over to her place as a surprise or something.”

At that, both Travis and Kevin’s faces told Nolan that they needed him to elaborate.

“What? She told me that she was craving soup, and Maya is on that road trip with Joel so I figured…” Nolan’s voice gradually decreased in volume.

Travis was the first to interject, “I, for one, think that’s a great idea. Gotta roll with the punches, you know?”

Of course, no conversation between the three guys would be completed without Kevin’s incessant teasing. “We can barely tolerate you when we’re fully healthy — what makes you think Y/N is gonna want to see you while she’s sick?” he chuckled.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Nolan groaned.

“You know you love me,” Hayesey playfully blew a kiss in Nolan’s direction. “Here, let TK and me help you with the soup. We gotta make sure it doesn’t make Y/N feel worse than she already does,” he suggested.

+ him & her

Staying true to his words, Kevin made sure Nolan’s attempt at making homemade soup went smoothly. After getting a thumbs-up from both of his teammates, Nolan filled some soup containers up and headed over to your place. He opted out from texting you about his arrival just in case you were sleeping and banked on the possibility that you still had a spare key under the small flower pot in front of your door.

Although Nolan nagged you for the key placement and insisted that it was a terrible hiding place for a key, he was grateful that it was still there when he arrived to your apartment’s door. Quietly letting himself in, he set the soup on the kitchen island before softly calling your name.

He quietly treaded to your room, which he’d only been in twice out of the dozens of times he had come over. Once he poked his head into your bedroom, he couldn’t stop his heart from overflowing with adoration for you. You were swaddled in a mountain of pillows and blankets. Your soft snores flowed through the room, and your messy hair partially covered your content face. You looked like you were at peace, and Nolan was glad to see that you were resting up.

The sight of you filled him with joy and he silently thanked his past-self for not calling and waking you up. Snapping himself out of his trance, Nolan had to remind himself that he was probably being extremely creepy. You probably wouldn’t let him live it down if you caught him, and he knew he wouldn’t have any excuse for his compromising position. Well, other than the fact that he was hopelessly falling for you and that everything you did made his feelings for you increasingly clear.

With it being close to dinnertime, Nolan figured that it wouldn’t be much longer until you woke up. He returned back into the living space of your apartment and found a comfortable place on the suede couch as he waited.

Sure enough, 15 minutes later, you emerged from your bedroom. “Nolan?” you softly murmured. The two syllables were coated in drowsiness, and Nolan swore he would’ve done anything to hear you utter his name like that again.

He looked up from his phone and suddenly had to remind himself how to breathe.

You were wrapped in a wool blanket, but a sliver of your sweater peaked out from the part where your blanket couldn’t fully cover. He’d recognize the black and orange pattern anywhere, but what stuck out to him was the “19” that was spread across the corner of your sweatshirt. Well, it was actually his sweatshirt if he wanted to get technical. His heart was beating out of his chest at the sight of you wearing his clothes and if he wasn’t sure if he was falling in love with you before, he was definitely sure now.

“I-, hi, Y/N. M’sorry for coming over like this, but I knew you said you wanted soup, and my mom has the really great chicken noodle soup recipe, and Teeks and Hayesy even helped me even though I’m not really sure if that was the best idea because Teeks almost mistook cinnamon for cayenne but-” Nolan started to ramble. He wasn’t sure why he was so flustered. It was the first time he’d gone out of his way this much for a girl and he was subconsciously stalling just in case you might’ve perceived his act of kindness as something that was way too creepy and something that supposed just-friends don’t do.

“Nols,” you started, “that’s so sweet of you, but you didn’t have to do that! I could’ve just sent for an UberEats so you wouldn’t have had to go through all of that trouble for me.”

Nolan wanted to stop you and let you know that he’d swim across the Atlantic Ocean for you. However, he settled for something a little less revealing. “Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise I wanted to do this. Plus if I didn’t, how would I have gotten to see you wearing my number?” he smirked.

Your gaze slowly descended to your body, where you were in fact wearing Nolan’s sweater. He forgot to take it home the last time he was over at your place, and you couldn’t help that it looked extremely comfy. A rush of blood and warmth flooded through your face. “I started wearing it because I missed you and it smells like your cologne,” you cringed for including that last detail, “but it’s actually so soft and I don’t think I’ll be returning this,” you tightened the blanket around you to emphasize your point.

Were you trying to kill Nolan? His brain was overloaded with emotions and this was probably the nail in the coffin. This was it for him. In the few seconds following your explanation, he knew he’d do everything in his power to get to see you like this for the rest of his life. He was sure a younger version of himself would’ve laughed at him for being so dramatic, but he also knew that his younger-self hadn’t met you yet.

“You pull off the sweater better than I do, so you can keep it,” he cheekily smiled. His eyes couldn’t decide if they’d rather look at your sleep-pampered face or his sweatshirt that engulfed you.

“What rom-com movie did you pull that line from?” you chuckled.

He dramatically gasped, “I’m truly offended.” He also took note of how you’ve been standing in the same place for minutes, “Also, why are you standing so far away? Promise I don’t bite,” Nolan joked while he reached out in your direction with grabby hands.

“I don’t wanna get you sick. Don’t know how your coach would feel if you caught the cold with the season so close,” you reasoned with a playful tone.

“That’s a later problem. Please c’mere, I missed you too much,” his eyes pleaded with yours. How could you say no when he had that look on his face?

You hesitatingly approached Nolan, still trying to keep your distance from him. You genuinely didn’t want to get him sick, but you were also still deciding about whether or not you wanted to bury away your feelings for him or let him know what was on your mind. You weren’t expecting Nolan to come over, and you were now wishing that you spent some of your snooze time on sorting out your Nolan dilemma.

Taking a few strides forward, you reached the coffee table that was only a meter or so away from Nolan. Apparently that distance was still too far for Nolan, though, because he grabbed for your hand and tugged you into his body. His scent instantly overcame your senses and you promptly relaxed into his hold. Your body was awkwardly positioned over his but his tight grip on you, which shifted down to your hips, gave no sign that Nolan wanted you to get off of him. With this signal, you repositioned yourself so each of your legs found a home on either side of his lap. His arms wrapped around your body, and your chest was pressed against his as you nuzzled your head between the junction of his neck and shoulder.

For a while, neither of you said anything. It was a serene moment and truthfully, neither of you needed to exchange words to express how much you both cared for one another. There was no better way to make up for lost time than to fully appreciate the other’s presence, and neither of you were in a rush to get out of the situation that you two were in.

Occasionally, Nolan would pepper kisses along your hairline and twirl your hair along his fingers. Praying that you couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating, he tried his best to calm the thoughts that were incessantly running through his mind. Nolan never wanted this delicate moment to end for multiple reasons. Perhaps the biggest reason, though, was because he was trying to formulate the right way to tell you how he felt about you. He wasn’t sure if he’d find a more perfect time than this one, and he wanted to make sure that everything he was going to say to you would properly express how much he cared for you and wanted you in his life as a more-than-friend.

Another few moments passed before he finally mustered up the courage to break the silence.

“I love you,” he breathed out.

He waited for your response, but was only met with a deafening silence. Unfortunately for Nolan, he never got to see your reaction to his confession because your drowsy state seemed to pull you into another sleeping trance just as quickly as Nolan spoke the three words.

+ her

Following the night that Nolan had come over to bring you soup, the two of you became a lot more physically affectionate. Whether it was cuddles on your couch or hugs that lingered for a little too long, you knew you were chartering into dangerous territory. You didn’t treat any of your guy friends in the same way you did Nolan, and somewhere along the road, you knew this shift in dynamic was precariously dancing between the line of platonic and romantic.

Maya and Joel picked up on it, too. Nearly every chance they got, the two attempted to get you or Nolan to finally confess that things had changed. They were never successful, however. Nolan would always brush off Joel’s inquiries and play off the situation. As for yourself, you ultimately decided to keep your feelings to yourself, too scared to lose the special connection you had with Nolan.

You had done a decent job of keeping your feelings locked away in the depths of your heart until the season opener for the Flyers.

Nolan had asked you to go, and as much as you would love nothing more than to root on your best friend, you were called into work at the last minute. You tried your best to see if any of your other co-workers could pick up the shift, but you were stuck watching the game from your phone as you begrudgingly got through your shift. You couldn’t forget the way Nolan’s excited expression fell after you told him you couldn’t make it and even though your shift was scheduled to end during the game’s third period, there was no way you would have made it to the Wells Fargo Center in time.

After your shift, you took out your phone and swiped through your friend’s SnapChat stories. Since Maya went to the game to support Joel, you had the apartment to yourself. Clicking on your best friend’s name on the app, you smiled as you watched the video that she’d put on her story. The Flyers clinched their first win for the season, and based on Maya’s story, it looked like everyone had gone to a nearby bar to celebrate. Despite the fact that her story was a video of Joel, that’s not what caught your attention.

Instead, it was the sight of a man in the background, his arms draped around a girl who was cozily perched upon his lap. His chin was resting on her shoulder, and you knew from the unmistakable rosy cheeks that the man was Nolan. Although the image lasted no more than a few seconds as the frame of Maya’s camera moved, you suddenly felt yourself become nauseous. Your fingers moved by themselves, torturing you as you watched the video over and over again to make sure you weren’t playing mind games on yourself.

You weren’t sure how to react. A mix of hurt and jealousy swarmed your body, sending shivers of confusion through it. You knew you had no right to be so upset. After all, Nolan and you never had a conversation about where you two stood. You two were still just friends — even though you’ve known for a while that your interactions with Nolan have meant much more to you than you’d let on. For all you knew, you could have been mistaking Nolan’s physical affection for something more. For all you knew, the physical affection never made Nolan’s heart beat race in the same way it did with yours.

Nolan wasn’t yours, but you so badly wish he were. You became increasingly frustrated at yourself for letting your heart believe that there was something more between you and Nolan. You knew you were playing a risky game — a game that you had just lost, because it became painfully apparent that Nolan only ever saw you as a friend. The video continued to play, though your clouded vision and mind drowned out its volume. A teardrop slipped down your heated cheeks and pattered onto your phone screen. You berated yourself with what-ifs, wondering if you could have done anything different to be able to call Nolan yours. Maybe it was never meant to be, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t beat yourself up over the situation.

Ditching your plans to immediately sleep after getting home from work, you made a beeline to the kitchen’s wine cabinet. You now let your tears run freely and let yourself drown in affliction. You didn’t even flinch when Maya and Joel entered the apartment, who both rushed to you with concern after they noticed your tear-splotched shirt and face that was swollen and red from crying.

Not used to seeing their typically calm and collected friend in such a state of disarray, the couple wasn’t quite sure how to approach the issue. For what felt like the first time in forever, you decided to be transparent with your thoughts. You had spent so long compartmentalizing your feelings that the need to let them out and the countless glasses of wine had you admitting your feelings for Nolan to the two. You didn’t want their pity, and you were thankful that they let you speak without interruption. Your words, though slurred, clearly explained how you felt foolish for falling for Nolan in the first place. You explained how your friendship with Nolan had evolved into something much more for you and how you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t love him as more than just a friend anymore.

At the end of your spiel, Maya and Joel shared a knowing look with each other. Maya looked like she was fuming, though she tried her best to maintain composure as she pulled you into a hug. You almost missed the way Joel cursed under his breath, calling Nolan an idiot. They were so sure Nolan had felt something towards you, and weren’t sure how to respond when you drunkenly asked what you did wrong for Nolan to be oblivious to the way that you only had eyes for him.

As much as they loved Nolan, they adored you just as much and felt terrible for the pain that you were going through.

Apparently not terrible enough to postpone movie nights, however. Some time down the road, you, Nolan, Maya, Joel, Travis, and Kevin made a habit of gathering for a few hours each week to watch movies and hang out. You almost forgot about it in your moping state until Maya brought up a few days later that it was your and Maya’s turn to host. The blood drained out of your face when she reminded you, and your first instinct was to come up with an excuse to miss the night at all costs. You didn’t want to ruin the budding tradition, but you weren’t ready to see Nolan either.

As much as it hurt to still be in contact with Nolan, the thought of cutting him off hurt just as much. So, you subjected yourself to the heartache of talking to someone as if you weren’t enamored with. After the night of your break down, Nolan tried texting and calling you as usual. Although you weren’t ignoring him, you kept your texts brief and the phone calls even shorter. You felt bad for creating a wall between you and Nolan, especially since he wasn’t sure what was going on with you. He often asked what was on your mind, but you typically brushed it off and churned out a half-true excuse about being busy with school before cutting your conversations with him short.

Maya understood your discomfort with the situation, and offered to call off the movie night. You quickly objected, not wanting to ruin the night for the others just because you were battling your own demons. You told her that the movie night could go on at your shared apartment, and that you would find something to keep you out of the house for a while.

Your escape from the apartment came in the form of Austin, a boy from your psych class. Although you two didn’t speak to one another much, his kind eyes and bashful smile always led you to gladly agree whenever he’d asked to sit in the open spot next to you in the lecture hall.

One day, after you offered your notes to him for a day he missed, he offered to take you out for dinner in return. Although you were hesitant at first, you couldn’t think of any cons that would weigh out the opportunity for a free meal and spending a few hours with the charming boy. Plus, he had mentioned that he was a transfer student from out of state, and you knew how much you would have appreciated a few friends from school when you first moved to the city. Ultimately agreeing to his proposition, you gave him your number and scheduled the dinner for the same night and time as the movie night.

When the night of your plans with Austin came around, you made sure to leave your apartment before the guys were coming over. Because you felt guilty for skipping on the movie night, you attempted to help Maya set up the snack. However, Maya insisted that you shouldn’t keep Austin waiting and that she could handle the food herself. When you told her about Austin, she was ecstatic for you. She knew how difficult the past week has been for you and nearly screeched with excitement when you told her that you had actual plans for the weekend.

She gave you a hug and reminded you to call her if you were in an emergency before practically pushing you out of the door.

+ her

The night with Austin went better than planned, and you genuinely enjoyed yourself. Not wanting to give Austin any false impressions, you made sure that the night was strictly platonic. Luckily for you, Austin was incredibly understanding. Although you didn’t miss the look of slight disappointment on his face when you told him that you weren’t interested in being anything more than friends, he respected your decision and upheld his offer for dinner.

Quickly, you found out that you two had a similar sense of humor. Austin was easy to talk to and eventually, you opened up to him about Nolan. You nearly apologized for doing so — you weren’t planning to drop your baggage on a boy that you barely knew. However, Austin was surprisingly good at giving advice and even recounted some of his own stories about unreturned feelings. It was nice to be able to talk to someone that could relate to you.

Knowing that Nolan was at your apartment, Austin suggested that you two get dessert and explore the city to make sure that the hockey player would be gone before you got home. At first, you turned down his idea, jokingly arguing that he didn’t have to spend his whole Saturday night with you out of pity. In spite of your protests, Austin promised that he wanted to continue spending time with you and didn’t mind the idea of getting ice cream.

You didn’t return home until it was nearly midnight. You were sure that the boys would have already headed home, since they had a morning skate the next day.

Opening the door, you were shocked to see that everyone was still in the apartment, eyes occupied on the Marvel movie on the television. Your eyes immediately landed on Nolan’s figure, and you contemplated your next actions.

Settling on trying to go unnoticed by the group, you tried your best to discreetly enter your home and head to your room. With everyone's backs turned away from you, you almost made it to your room safely.

You were so close until your keys loudly fell onto the floor as you tried to remove them from the lock. Instantly, everyone’s heads turned to the front door. Someone turned on the living room’s lights, and you became uncomfortably aware of everyone’s attention on you.

You flashed them a smile, and Maya was the first to speak.

“How was your date?” she slyly questioned, making sure that everyone in the room heard her.

You raised an eyebrow at her question. Maya knew that the night with Austin wasn’t a date. However, the way she glanced at Nolan reminded you that he and the other guys, for that matter, didn’t know that. Not wanting to entertain whatever plan she was brewing in her mind, you tried not to acknowledge her question, flashing her a nervous smile.

“You ditched us for a date?” Travis gasped incredulously, clenching his hand above his heart for the added dramatic effect.

“Is that why the cookies were weird? I knew something was wrong with them when I nearly broke a tooth trying to eat one,” Hayesy laughed as an embarrassed Maya threw a pillow in his direction. You chuckled along with the joke, knowing that you should’ve stuck around to help her bake them. You made sure to promise not to miss the next movie night and even reassured Kevin that you would make a fresh batch of cookies just for him next time.

As Joel chimed in with the others about your “date,” Nolan remained oddly quiet.

His body language was stiff, and his eyes were mostly glued to his lap. He was playing with his fingers and refused to look you in the eyes. He almost looked uncomfortable, his smile forced whenever someone made another funny remark. Although everyone seemed oblivious to it, you couldn’t help but notice the way Nolan was biting the inside of his cheek. It was a habit that you noticed before, but you usually only ever saw him do it when he was in deep concentration or thought. You wouldn’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt to see that Nolan didn’t even acknowledge your presence. Of course he didn’t owe you anything, but your heart didn’t necessarily know that.

You didn’t want to overanalyze anything, though. So, after chuckling at their comments, you headed to your room to remove your makeup and change into the oversized tee shirt and lounge shorts that you had been looking forward to changing into ever since you left the apartment.

“Calling it a night already?”

Upon hearing the question, you nearly had to do a double take. It was the first time you had heard Nolan’s voice all night. The lack of inflection in his voice transformed the previously light-hearted atmosphere thick with tension.

“Um, yea. It’s been a long night and I don’t know how much longer I can keep my eyes open,” you curtly responded with the first excuse that you could come up with, continuing en route to your room without sparing Nolan another glance. You gave everyone in the living space a small wave before you slipped into your room.

Although your reasoning was partially true, you didn’t know if you could handle being so close to Nolan at the moment. The two of you had gotten used to snuggling up together during movie nights and with your current emotional disarray, you didn’t want to put yourself in the position where you had to pretend like you weren’t still hurt at the thought of Nolan not seeing you in the same light that you saw him. And, regardless of how idiotic Nolan’s teammates could act at times, you knew they were pretty observant — especially when it came to you and Nolan’s complex friendship. If you decided to join in on the movie night but sit in any seat that wasn’t next to Nolan, they'd undoubtedly pick up on it.

Even though you thought your excuse was enough to get by your attentive friends, everyone in the room —bar Nolan— exchanged knowing looks with each other after once they heard the lock of your doorknob click into place. They knew how much you loved movie nights and how you were usually a night owl, regardless of how busy your day was. In fact, it was usually you that begged for an extra movie to be played when everyone was ready to call it a night.

More importantly, they knew you had a soft spot for Nolan. They weren’t ignorant to the way you’d sprint through hoops and hurdles to spend time with Nolan, mostly because they noticed how Nolan would go great lengths to see you, too. It had been a while since you last saw Nolan, and they figured that you would jump on the chance to be in your best friend’s presence again. Of course Maya had to play along, pretending as if she didn’t know why you were avoiding Nolan.

Even though Nolan was a little more subtle with his actions and words, it was no secret that Nolan missed you. His question from earlier was his way of asking you if everything was alright and if you wanted to spend time with him, and your deflection to his implied questions told everyone what they needed to know.

They weren’t quite sure what was going on between you and Nolan, but they knew things weren’t the same as they used to be.

Noting the way Nolan’s shoulders sunk after you disappeared into your bedroom, Maya was the first to rise from her seat. The mood of the night quickly became awkward after Nolan’s short-lived interaction with you, and Maya had no intention of having to sit through another hour of the movie if it were going to be this uncomfortable. She also hoped to talk to you before you actually went to sleep.

“Well, I think I’m gonna head to bed, too. I have to pick up an early shift tomorrow,” she explained as she gathered her blankets from the couch. “You’re staying the night, right?” she asked Joel.

Painfully aware of the newfound tension, her boyfriend silently nodded and helped Maya bring the rest of the throw pillows and blankets.

“You all can finish the rest of the movie,” Maya nodded towards Nolan, Travis, and Kevin. “Just lock up on your way out once it’s over. There should be a spare key under the flower pot outside.” Waving to the guys in the living room, Maya tugged Joel into her room and shut the door.

And then there were three.

+ him

Nolan’s jaw was beginning to ache from how hard he was clenching his teeth together. He didn’t know how to take in the rollercoaster of emotions that he had been feeling for the past few days. He wasn’t oblivious to the barrier that seemed to build up between you and him, but he didn’t know how that wall formed in the first place, let alone how to get over it.

He thought the past few days had been rocky, but he was certainly not prepared for his heartstrings to be pulled into so many directions tonight.

Nolan was looking forward to seeing you in person and was more than disheartened to hear that you were out for the night after he awkwardly asked Maya about your whereabouts. Your roommate didn’t go into the specifics of why you were missing out on the movie night, so he was left to his own devices to figure out where you were.

Of course he could’ve texted you, but given your erratic reply rates as of late, he resorted to refreshing his SnapChat and Instagram apps every once in a while to see if you were posting about where you were spending your weekend night.

Nolan wanted to understand why there was a strain in the relationship and more than anything, he needed your reassurance to know that everything was alright. He partly thought you were distancing yourself from him because he had made his feelings for you too obvious and you didn’t see him in that same way. The theory wasn’t even farfetched. His friends always made fun of him for being so whipped for you, and Nolan knew that you hated letting others down. Throughout his friendship with you, he had quickly learned that you would much rather deal with the brunt of someone else’s problems than to let them down. The thought of you distancing yourself from Nolan just because you only saw him as just a friend hurt Nolan, and he needed to let you know that he’d much rather deal with his feelings being unreciprocated than to have you fade away from his life.

Nolan also thought that he said something wrong and made you upset. However, after replaying all of the conversations he had with you leading up to your new treatment towards him, he didn’t know what he would have said that would have made you this indifferent to him.

Your social media gave no hints as to what you were doing, so Nolan let his imagination run wild with all of the reasons why you would’ve skipped movie night, especially when you were usually so excited about them.

When you entered the apartment a few hours after his arrival, Nolan felt his heartbeat begin to thrum as loud as a kick drum. All of the hypothetical situations that were previously occupying his mind were now invaded with thoughts about how good you looked. Nolan recognized the denim jacket you were wearing as the one that you had gotten a few months ago. He had just finished an afternoon practice when you FaceTimed him and couldn’t contain your excitement about finding the “most perfect article of clothing” you’ve ever owned. Although Nolan chirped you for driving so far away just for a jacket, the ecstatic expression on your face that day was one he’d never forget. It was also one that he so desperately craved to see for the rest of his life.

Just as quickly as he was brought out of his slump from seeing you, he was rudely pulled back down to reality after Maya asked you about your date. Needless to say, the warmth that filled his heart left as quickly as it had entered. Jealousy consumed Nolan, and he was momentarily blinded by a pain that he couldn’t quite describe.

As his friends joke around with you, Nolan struggled comprehending the thought of you with another guy. He had no right to be upset, really. Not when he couldn’t muster up the courage to tell you how he felt and especially not when your eyes were twinkling with so much elation.

Throughout the friendship Nolan had developed with you, you never mentioned that you were going on dates or seeking relationships. The hopeless romantic in him let him believe that maybe, just maybe, you were saving your heart for the right person. For him.

However, the breathy chuckle you released after Maya’s question shattered any amount of hope that Nolan had built up. Now, instead of butterflies, Nolan’s stomach was filled with a piercing ache. As if he wanted to punish himself more for not being more vocal about his feelings for you, Nolan attempted to ask you to join the movie night. Sure, maybe he wasn’t exactly direct with his words, but he was hoping you’d pick up on his hint. Nolan shouldn’t have been so surprised when you decided to go to your room instead of joining him and the others, but the already-tense coil in his stomach continued to tighten.

After you went to your room, followed by Maya and Joel, Nolan looked at the remaining people in the room.

“We’re sorry, Pat,” Travis was the first to speak. His words were laced with sympathy, knowing how much his friend was head over heels for you.

Moving from his seat to stand over his younger teammate, Kevin rose from the couch and rubbed Nolan’s shoulder. “Let’s head home, yea?” Kevin attempted to dance around the topic of you.

“I’ll meet you two in the car. Just need to clear my head for a bit,” Nolan muttered to his understanding friends.

Quietly, Travis and Kevin left the apartment, making sure to shut the door carefully as to not disturb their teammate.

+ him & her

Thinking you were in the clear after hearing the front door close, you left your room in hopes of making a mug of tea.

You felt bad for avoiding Nolan, but you didn’t know how else to deal with the thousands of thoughts that cycled through your brain.

To say you were unprepared to see Nolan in your living would be an understatement. His arms were propped on his knees and his face was cradled by his hands. His shoulders were slouched and his tousled hair looked as if he had run his hands through it multiple times.

You weren’t sure if you should’ve just turned back around and locked yourself in your room, but your instincts beckoned you to come closer to Nolan. No matter how hurt you were, he was your best friend first and foremost. If there was anything you could do to bring him out of his clear distress, you would do it without a second thought.

“Nolan?” you meekly called out his name.

Nolan slowly moved his head just enough so he could hear the source of the sound. Unintentionally mimicking your facial expression, he looked just as stunned to see you. “Sorry, I thought you would’ve already been asleep. I was uh- I was just about to head out,” he timidly said.

“Stay as long as you need. I’ve been trying to sleep but didn’t have much luck, so I’m hoping tea will help. Haven’t been able to get a good sleep for a while now,” you explained while opening a kitchen cupboard for a mug.

“Me neither. Things haven’t felt right recently,” he sighed. After his statement, the apartment was eerily quiet. Neither of you wanted to say anything else, scared of stepping over any boundaries or maybe the situation even more awkward.

You’re not sure what gears clicked into place, but you felt compelled to finally tell Nolan what was on your mind. The guilt of ignoring him was eating away at you, and you felt like you at least owed your best friend an explanation as to why you needed space from him. After you dropped the tea bag into your mug, you walked back towards the living space to where Nolan was still sitting.

“Look, I’m sorry,” you started.

Nolan didn’t say anything, his eyes pleading with you to continue with what you were saying.

“I’m just gonna lay everything out because I know I’m not gonna be brave enough to do this on any other occasion,” you prefaced, making sure Nolan was paying attention to what you were saying. You were already embarrassed that you had managed to think that Nolan could ever like you, and you did not want to have to verbally explain your emotional affliction more than one.

“I don’t really know when, but I caught feelings for you. At first I wasn’t sure what to do about it, because everyone always warns about falling for your best friend and I didn’t want to make things awkward between us if you didn’t feel the same,” you continued with your explanation, eventually getting to the part where you saw Nolan and the girl on Maya’s story.

“It just sucked, y’know? I thought I was doing a good job of suppressing my feelings and then I saw that. Obviously it’s not like we were dating or anything and I never told you how I felt at the time, but having that confirmation that there wasn’t actually anything between us was like a kick to the gut.”

“I feel terrible for letting my feelings get in the way of our friendship and reading all of the signs wrong. I don’t wanna lose you because of this, and I’m really trying to get over my silly feelings becau-” you were cut off by Nolan.

“What if I don’t want you to get over those feelings?” he said while approaching the spot you were standing in.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure if you were hearing things right or if you were so sleep deprived that you were starting to make things up. “I-I’m not following,” you silently begged Nolan to continue.

“I liked you, too,” he confessed. “Well, I still like you. If I’m being honest, I think I’m in love with you,” he admitted all in one breath. “I thought it would be easier to try to get over you instead of dealing with the possibility of ruining our friendship just because I caught feelings,” he elaborated.

“Obviously it didn’t work, though. And I ended up messing up things between us anyway, so it really didn’t work,” he sighed with a hint of resignation in his tone. He wasn’t sure if he was referring to ruining the friendship, his chance of getting to call you his, or both. Upon that thought, Nolan became even more dejected after he was reminded about how you were just on a date a few hours ago.

Your head was spinning with each word. Every fiber in your body was consumed by joy, and you were now wide awake. Nolan was now only standing a few feet away from you. You still hadn’t replied to his confession, and you could tell that he was becoming increasingly nervous as he awaited your reaction. With that realization, you were drawn out of your thoughts. Your heart was lodged in your throat, and you knew that no words could articulate the words you wanted to tell Nolan, anyway.

With that, you closed the distance between the two of you. Your hands grabbed his and although he flinched a little bit, he welcomed your gesture and interlaced your fingers with him.

Going on your tiptoes to come a little closer to your face, you become hyper-aware of Nolan’s burning gaze. His face is painted with a light blush, and he’s biting the inside of his cheeks again.

“I hope this is okay,” is the last thing you whisper before you connect your lips to his.

Instinctively, Nolan’s hands pulled away from yours to find a home on your hips. He pulled you closer, attempting to deepen the kiss. The kiss was soft, reassuring, and everything in between. Nolan couldn’t stop the smile that was tugging on his lips, and had to pull away to make sure that this was actually happening.

He was met with your confused face, your eyebrows scrunched in the cutest way. His smile promptly turned into a smirk as you tried to pull him into a kiss, your shorter height causing you to barely graze the corner of his lips.

When Nolan released a chuckle, you started to become impatient. “What?” you questioned while narrowing your eyes towards the rosy-cheeked boy in front of you.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he cheekily asked.

“Only if I get a second kiss,” you said with gleaming eyes, fingertips grazing along his jawline. With those words, Nolan wasted no time fulfilling your wish and peppering your neck with dozens of chaste kisses.

The two of you were so consumed with the high of finally getting to hear the other admit their feelings that neither of you heard the sound of the front door violently swinging open.

“Patty, where the fuck are yo-” Travis called, immediately realizing the moment he was intruding on. “You know what, I think I’m just gonna head out. Have a good night!” he awkwardly chuckled, undoubtedly embarrassed. He sent the two of you a thumbs up before quickly shutting the door as if he never interrupted.

“Oh my god,” Nolan said, his head falling into your shoulder and arms wrapping around your body. “I forgot that TK and Hayesy were waiting for me to come down. It’s probably been like half an hour at this point,” his laugh rumbled through your bones.

“Stay the night?” you offered. “Maybe I can finally get more than four hours of sleep,” you laughed.

“Mm, sounds like a plan,” Nolan peppered kisses along your neck before scooping you into his arms and heading to your bedroom.

Although both of you knew that there would be a lot to talk about the following morning, neither of you wanted to disrupt the current state of bliss that both of you were in. You and Nolan’s hearts were finally intertwined, and for now, that was enough to engulf you in ease.

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nolan patrick x reader #my writing

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darlingsdevil · 4 years

Text

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 4: Dreamaches

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Of The Valley Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (comment to be added or removed) sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @cowboyfrazer @scarletpines @sidepuff

A/N: I promise they’ll be back in Jackson soon...

•••

Joel didn’t say much on the way back, talking about frivolous things, beating around the bush the entire time. You were looking forward to going to the lake with Joel.. you remembered how awful your last one ended. You kept your mind on the thought of a ‘date’ with Joel, rather than the inkling thought of the runner you had shot.

Of course, there was still the matter of the discussion you were meant to have with Joel. You owed Joel an explanation for your disappearance. With the way your relationship stood with him three months ago, you were certain he suspected your absence could have sprouted from that. Which was.. disheartening to say the least. Just when things had begun to finally heat up, you vanished without a trace. No wonder Joel was angry. You would be angry too.

When you arrived back at the lookout, the stew was almost done. Joel hitched the horses for you while you went inside. Ellie was playing a tune on her guitar and Tommy was listening to her song.

“You guys better not have already eaten,” You said jokingly, sitting next to Tommy while Joel came inside.

“We haven’t,” Ellie reassured.

“Good because I’m hungry.” Joel sat down next to Ellie, she scooted farther away from him slightly, Joel didn’t notice, but you did. You rose a brow at her subtly and she gently shook her head.

“Ellie’s getting real good at that guitar, Joel,” Tommy said to him.

Joel smiled and nodded.

“Course she is, only been trained by the best guitarist in Jackson,” You said, giving Joel a humorous wink.

“I see you haven’t gotten around to changing the strings yet,” Joel pointed out, looking at Ellie’s guitar.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” Ellie said, looking at him in confusion.

“Yeah, well, we’ll get you some new ones,” Joel replied.

“Well there’s that music store down there, I bet they got guitar stuff,” Tommy piped up. Ellie shifted uncomfortably while Tommy waited for either of the two to respond.

“I mean, that area is long overdue for a sweep anyways, and it’s a little early for dinner,” He explained.

“We can keep watch while you two head out,” You said.

“What do you say, kiddo?” Joel asked Ellie.

Ellie shrugged, “Sure,” She said.

“Okay well, I’ll be waiting outside,” Joel replied, setting out for the door. Ellie looked like she would much rather have gone with you or Tommy, but you knew it was best if she went with Joel. That talk was long overdue, something was definitely up.

“Are you sure I can’t go with one of you instead?” Ellie asked quietly, pleading with her eyes. Both you and Tommy shook your heads. Ellie sighed under her breath and followed Joel out the door. You wondered what was going on between them, but of course, it was another thing on your long list of future discussions you were dreading.

“How did you do out there?” Tommy asked as you got up to sit in Ellie’s spot across from him.

“Better than before. A little shook up still, but I’m doing better.”

“That’s good. Are you thinking about coming back to patrol? We could really use your help,” Tommy began.

“No, this is a one time thing. I think I’ll just stick to the bar job for now,” You said firmly. You weren’t on the fence about this, as good of a sniper as you are, there’s no way in hell you could do it everyday again.

“Alright. And how are things with Joel?” He questioned.

You sighed, leaning back into the couch. “I don’t know. He’s confused. He’s hurt. I don’t know what to say or what to do about any of it.”

“Just start by being around him again, you don’t have to go right back into the heavy stuff. Joel will understand,” Tommy explained calmly.

“I guess I did kind of miss him,” You confess, looking down at your shoes.

“Just don’t go avoiding him again. Or anyone for that matter. Including Ellie, she’s going through a rough patch with Joel right now,” He pointed out.

“I could tell. How bad is it? Normal teenage angst or something bigger?”

“Not too sure. Seems to have been going on for a while and it’s only been getting worse. Joel’s not too happy,” He answered. It seemed others had picked up on it too.

“I’ll talk to Ellie about it. Maybe I can get her to go easy on her old man.”

“You need to take that advice too. I know last few months haven’t been the easiest, but you can’t shut everyone out like that again. It’s only going to make people even more hurt,” Tommy lectured you. You felt your ears grow hot at his words.

“If everyone wanted to see me so badly, you or Maria could have told them where I was. It wasn’t a secret as to where I was working,” You said defensively.

“Or you could have. Maria and I don’t need to be your messengers,” Tommy replied firmly.

“And Joel never thought to ask around? Just because I wasn’t answering my door doesn’t mean I wasn’t around town,” You scoffed. It was harder to control your moods these days, especially since what Tommy had said was barely offensive. You could easily pretend you were fine, irritability was the hard part. You knew you were overreacting, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“From my understanding of it, he didn’t want to impose, wanted you to come to him,” Tommy said, voice with much less bite. That made a hell of a lot more sense. It made sense why he wouldn’t have sought you out, he was waiting for you to bring it up first. You had nearly forgotten about what had happened with him, no wonder he was so angry.

You sighed deeply, Tommy was right, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

“It’s alright. I know last few months haven’t been too kind to you either.”

•••

When Joel and Ellie made it back to the lookout, you could tell something was up. Ellie avoided Joel the second they stepped in and Joel looked visibly grumpier. Maybe it was a mistake to let them go out on their own.

Regardless, the stew was completely done. Tommy found clean bowls and some silverware, you set the table while Joel sat quietly at the island counter. He was clearly in deep thought. Ellie was off somewhere in one of the rooms, probably listening to her Walkman. Mark had some old Walkman tapes that he had collected over the years that you had been meaning to give to her, just like the records. Mark’s old Walkman broke a long time ago anyways, that’s why he switched to vinyl.

“Will you go tell Ellie it’s time for dinner?” Joel asked you, his voice much softer.

You nodded your head and went towards the room she always chose at this lookout, and sure enough you could hear the faint sound of music on the other side. You knocked gently on it. No response. You knocked louder this time.

“What?” Ellie called out.

“Can I come in?”

Ellie was hesitant but agreed. You opened up the to her room. She was sitting up on the bed, staring at you.

“We’re about to start eating, you gonna join us?” You asked her.

“No, I’m not really hungry,” She attempted to play it off. Ellie gently set her Walkman down next to her, clicking it off.

“You don’t have to eat with them if you don’t want to. I can bring some stew up here and eat with you if you would like.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but I think I want to be alone right now,” Ellie replied dimly. Her room was practically radiating a depressive gloom, much like your own, curtains drawn and lights off.

“Okay, that’s fair. Let me know if you change your mind.” You shut the door behind you, walking back over to Joel and Tommy.

“She’s not eating?” Joel asked you as he sat down at the dinner table.

You shook your head nonchalantly, sitting down next to Joel. Tommy brought over the stew and set down three bowls. God, you were hungry. You felt like you could eat the entire pot.

“How was your trip with Ellie?” You said to Joel, attempting to make small talk.

“Fine,” He replied curtly. You and Tommy shared a look.

Dinner was pleasant enough, you mostly only talked with Tommy, mentioning the weather, the newcomers in town with a baby, the upcoming fall dance, the new renovations to Cork street. Simple things.

The sun was setting to the west, the orange rays of light casting into the many windows of the lookout, you could see the lights in Jackson begin to come on. You were not looking forward to spending the night outside of Jackson, or around other people for that matter. Joel retired to his room for the night while you and Tommy watched a movie on the TV. You weren’t too sure what was happening in it since it was a sequel and you had never seen the first, but it was a good distraction, at least for a little while.

Soon enough though, it had gotten fully dark and you were bone tired. You still had to go out tomorrow to pick off the rest of the infected you had missed from the first nest, and then you would be back home. You made a checklist of all the things you would have to do when you returned home, a long list of talking with people you had avoided and talking about things you didn’t want to talk about, but needed to.

You stayed up a little while longer than him, thinking about everything you tried not to. Joel. Three months ago. Mark. Being outside the wall. Practically everything.

Only Ellie managed to pull you out of your thoughts as she quietly tiptoed to the kitchen, hoping not to alert you. But unfortunately, Ellie wasn’t particularly quiet.

“Care to sit with me?” You called out. You heard Ellie lightly gasp.

“Shit,” She muttered under her breath.

“You might be able to sneak by Joel or Tommy, but I thought you knew better than that.”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to scare you,” Ellie said. You knew she was lying.

“Okay well, sit with me for a little bit,” You suggested, looking over your shoulder to her.

“Let me get some food first.” She rummaged through the cabinets to find a bowl for a few seconds, when she found it she took the leftovers out of the fridge and poured some into her bowl. She walked over to you and sat down on the couch.

“What’s going on with you and Joel?” You looked at her. Her eyes widened and she looked down at the ground.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” You continued. Ellie began eating her stew slowly.

“Nothing that you need to be worried about.”

Oh boy.

“You can talk to me, Ellie,” You told her, hoping it would get her to open up.

“Look, I know you mean well. I just don’t want to talk about what’s going on.” She looked up at you. You were taken aback, Ellie was usually always open with you.

“Joel’s upset too. You don’t have to tell me what’s happening, I just want you to talk to him and let him know what’s going on so he can fix it,” You explained.

“I’ll talk when you talk to him,” Ellie said seriously.

“What?”

“You dodged him and I, for months. You don’t get off so easily when I have to tell him about my feelings and all that bullshit and you don’t,” Ellie replied angrily. She was betrayed too. Suddenly, you were beginning to realize the depth of how many people you abandoned.

“I guess that’s fair.” Your voice was quiet.

“I’m going back to my room. I’ll talk to you later. Goodnight,” Ellie said swiftly, returning to her room.

There was a pit in your chest, not only had you cut yourself off from the support you so desperately needed, you cut out others too. Others that needed you just as much as you needed them. And now you were paying the price for it.

•••

Sleep didn’t come easily. Tommy and Joel were in their respective rooms while you were in yours. Your room was the closest to Joel’s and shared a bathroom with him.

Sleep never came easily. At least not recently. You forgot what it felt like to see the moon, having the curtains nearly almost always closed to drown out the rest of the world, it was a fresh reminder of how breathtaking the world could be. Your window was wide open, the crisp autumn air felt wonderful on your lungs. The mixture of leaves and fresh air was something that managed to calm your nerves no matter the circumstances. The air was entirely different than Jackson, Jackson was crowded, always smelt like a city. But out here, there was nothing more than the sweet smell of nature that wafted through your window. And for a moment, your worries drifted away. There was no Mark, there was no Joel, there was no Ellie. You weren’t even sure you existed in that moment, you felt detached but you did not know of it. There was nothing. There was only nature. Only the wind in the dying leaves that rustled through the trees and the eventual rebirth of Mother Nature herself. Life would be okay.

•••

There were no nightmares. No running for your life from someone you couldn’t see. The haunting memories. There was nothing. Not even a dream. The first time in a long time there was nothing. It was surprisingly peaceful.. until you started feeling sick.

You awoke to the rising sun in your window, feeling peaceful until you felt your stomach toss and turn. It was common for you to feel nauseous in the morning, sometimes later in the day too. Your nightmares and panic attacks being so frightful, they caused you to feel sick to your stomach.

You rushed to the bathroom and sat down on the tile. There was no running water, something you missed so dearly. Only a trash can.

Your stomach was flipping, you groaned in pain and leaned against the bathtub, resting your hand on your stomach.

Maybe it was the stew. It wasn’t uncommon to get sick from 25 years expired cans of food, but no one else had gotten sick. Maybe you just had the stomach flu, working in a bar made it a hotspot for illness.

It wasn’t just the stomach pains, you had a dull headache too. Perhaps you were getting sick, but then again you hadn’t gotten sick in years. It could have been the food too, but you didn’t feel ill at all last night.

You tried to focus your breathing while you looked around the bathroom. It was clean enough. Not anything particularly special. There was a sink, a toilet, a shower. Some soap, some tampons.

Tampons.

How long had it been since you have had your period? You were so caught up in everything, you had forgotten to keep track of these things. And feeling ill in the morning? Increased appetite? Mood swings?

Shit.

•••

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