#Dirty Hands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostfanwriter · 4 months

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🧰 💖 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕 💖 🧰

🧰 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

💖 Setting: Lincoln

🧰 Synopsys: Bill found out about you and Joel, and you try to adjust to life without him again.

💖 Warnings: A bunch of angst, sorry.

🧰 Word count: 6.5k

💖 Author's note: This was gonna be the final part, but needless to say I got carried away. Enjoy, I cried my eyeballs out writing this one 🩷 (I love this gif, it looks like he's looking between reader and Bill)

Your eyes are wide open as soon as you process what's happening. Joel underneath you, your head resting against his chest, Frank at the door and Bill standing near the bed, a shotgun in hand.

"Dad, please, put this gun down. Let's talk." You say nervously, supporting yourself on your elbows when you see Bill's shotgun aimed straight at Joel's face.

"Get off your bed." Bill tells you coldly and sternly, calling you by your name, and you obey, uncovering both of you, standing between him and Joel. "Now get out of my way." He says, his eyes fixated on Joel, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

"Daddy, please, I can explain." You try to ease him, your voice shaky and high, and he looks at you, his stare cold and distant.

"There ain't nothing to explain." He says, walking to his side, his aim back on Joel.

"Please." You insist, following him, his gun pointed directly to your chest.

"Joel's on your bed. What else do I need to know?" He asks, his voice low, coated with an angry and impatient tone, one he rarely uses towards you. "Maybe I need to know since when this has been happening? Or maybe how could Joel do this to me? To you?" He asks, his gaze lifting, and you sense Joel getting up behind you.

"Dad, this is not what you're thinking. Last night we were talking, and we fell asleep, and that's all that happened, I swear." You say, fighting the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes, trying to stay calm.

"You know what it seems like... baby?" Bill asks with a sinister calmness. "It seems like Joel is sleeping with my daughter!" He snaps, taking his finger to the trigger, and you press your chest against his gun, your whole body trembling, and Joel's eyes widen, a move his nostril mimick as he feels like he's going through hell again.

A gun pointed at him, and a girl he must protect shielding him.

He can't let this happen again, he can't let you put yourself in danger because of him. He touches your shoulders, trying to pull you away.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" Your dad yells, and you close your eyes, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks in fear of how this is gonna unfold. "Don't fucking touch her!" He yells again, and you press your chest further into his gun, Joel's hands leave your body, staying high to try and ease your dad.

"Bill you're pointing a gun to my daughter!" Frank says nervously, trying to not startle Bill and make him pull the trigger accidentally. "Put this fucking gun down!" He says firmly, his voice now louder, and Bill looks at you, his eyes softening when he realizes your chest is against the gun.

"Frank, you..." Bill starts, then turns his head to look at his husband, his tone again dangerously calm. "Did you know about this?" He asks, and Frank's eyes falter, the anger and nervousness in his face melting down.

"Bill... I... I didn't wanna tell you becaus—"

"You lied to me?" Your dad whispers, and for the first time you sense sadness in him. "You all fucking LIED TO ME!" There's anger again.

"Dad—" You nervously try to talk to him.

"YOU, baby! You lied to me! You... My babygirl... You lied to me. I'm you father, I... I've always kept you safe, healthy, comfortable, away from everything, I... I taught you how to handle yourself, and you... You do this to me? Behind my back?" He says, his crying consuming more of his expression and voice with every word.

And his words make you feel horrible. You're ashamed of yourself. You should've talked to your dad, you couldn't have lied to him. You should've been honest and let him know about your feelings for Joel since they started blooming. You shouldn't — you couldn't — have been so selfish.

"I'm sorry, daddy." You try to say between tears, your voice small and high.

"Bill, it's not her fault—" Joel starts, but your dad cuts him.

"Of course it's not her fault! She's a kid!" Bill snarls, shouting at Joel. "I gave you a house to stay, I gave you food, we made a deal! I trusted you inside this town... Inside my house! And this is what you do to me? To my daughter? Taking advantage of her like that?" He violently spits at Joel, who's staring at the floor, not holding Bill's eyes.

He isn't even defending himself.

It's like he's ashamed of himself, like he agrees with your father. Not for the reasons you do, but because he thinks he should never have touched you.

But you know your father is wrong. Joel wasn't taking advantage of you, you wanted him to do everything he did.

He likes you just as much as you like him, you two share something.

Right?

So why isn't he responding? Why isn't he telling your dad what he told you last night? That he is thinking about staying with you, that he wants to do things right?

"I'm sorry. You're right. I'm sorry." He finally says, his voice sounding small for the first time. "But nothing happened. We just slept, nothing else."

"I don't wanna know what you did or didn't do to her. I want you out of my house, out of my town, out of my fucking sight as quickly as possible or I'm not gonna think twice before blowing your fucking brains." Bill snarls, his voice again in a menacing low rumble.

You've never seen your dad like this. This angry and violent. Not when infected appear near the fences, not even when those raiders tried to invade the town.

And you've never seen Joel so small, so ashamed.

Is he ashamed of being with you?

"Daddy, please, don't do anything." You plead, taking a step towards him, and he takes a step back, not looking into your eyes.

"I want you out of here. Quick. Don't give me time to rethink this." He tells Joel coldly, leaving the room, passing by Frank without looking into his eyes neither.

"I fucking told you to be careful." Frank says after Bill goes downstairs, unable to hide his frustration as he stands in the door, looking at Joel and beckoning with his head for Joel to leave your bedroom. Joel goes without looking back, and you call him.

"Joel, no... I, please... My dad can't do this, he can't tell you to leave like this." You cry, and his gaze softens. This is what he never wanted, to watch you hurt like this. "You don't even have any food left, you have wet clothes on the clothesline... You can't go." You plead.

"Joel, go pack your things." Frank says, and Joel purses his lips before turning back around and leaving your bedroom, his eyes avoiding Frank's.

You sit on your bed, crying copiously. Because of everything. Because you lied to your dad, to an extent you lied to both of them — Frank had no idea you and Joel were this close —, because you saw Joel fall asleep and didn't wake him up.

You're crying because of how Joel reacted, because of how he agreed that he was wrong. You're crying because... Because you love him, and he's going away, and you're helplessly watching him go and never come back.

And you're watching as he shows no resistance whatsoever. He didn't try to explain, to defend himself, he didn't try to ask to stay.

He just agreed that he was wrong and that he had to leave.

Frank kneels on the floor in front of you, holding your forearms tight. "Love, look at me. Stop crying." He says gently yet firmly, but you can't stop the tears flowing down your cheeks.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You hug him tight, your words muffled by his shoulder, and any leftover of anger in him melts away at your pain.

"Darling. I need you to stay calm, ok? I'll keep your dad in our bedroom and you're gonna help Joel get ready to leave."

"I can't... I can't help him leave me." You cry, and Frank dries your face with your own shirt, using the fabric that's covering your stomach.

"Here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get up, you're gonna take his clothes that are on the clothesline, you're gonna pack him something to eat and you're gonna give it to him. Put the wet clothes in a plastic bag and make sure he has enough food to go back home, ok? It's a two day trip." He says. "Do that for him. He's gonna appreciate it, ok? You're not helping him leave, there's no choice there. You're just taking care of him one last time and making sure he's gonna be ok." He says, and you agree, nodding and trying to control your tears. "C'mon, let's go." He says softly, taking your hand in his and guiding you downstairs, soothing you when you look at Joel's bedroom, keeping you focused on doing what he asked.

You take Joel's clothes out of the clothesline and pack him a few roasted vegetables, some of your dad's cans of ravioli, orange juice and water.

You take it to his bedroom, stopping at his door. He has his back turned to the door while he packs his things.

"Joel." You cry out from his bedroom door, and he looks at you, his eyes red and regretful.

"I'm so sorry, baby." He says, his voice low and raspy, from sleep and from crying.

"It's not your fault." You say, placing the bags with his clothes and food on his bed. "I saw you fall asleep, I should've told you to go to your room." You confess.

"No, baby. I mean I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for ever touching you, for ever doing everything I did to you." He says, and the regret in his voice hurts you.

Every touch, every whisper, every look... It was all new and overwhelming for you... And regretful for him?

"You regret everything?" You ask, your voice small and hurt.

"No. No, baby, I regret nothing." He whispers, walking closer to you. "You made me feel in a way I thought I'd never feel again." He cups your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin under your eye. "But look at what it did to you." He says, wiping your neverending tears away with his thumbs, a few more escaping his own. "This is all I know how to do. Hurt everyone I love. You didn't deserve to feel any of this, my angel."

"You made me feel alive, Joel." You say, holding his wrists. "I'm only hurting so much because of how you make me feel. Because what I feel is new, is real, and because I don't want you to go." You say, hugging him tight, burying your face in his soft and good smelling shirt.

"My baby." He says, hugging you back, his hands on your back and the back of your head, your tears soaking the shoulder of his shirt as you hold him, trying to memorize what his embrace feels like. Not ever wanting to let him go.

"Where you really thinking about staying?" You ask softly, and you feel his chest rumble with his chuckle.

"I was." He squeezes you tighter. "But I don't want you to think about that right now." He says, pulling back to look at your face.

"Why not?" You ask softly, looking up at him.

"No need to hurt yourself even more with what could've been, baby."

"But I wanna know." You plead, and he sighs, smiling softly.

He walks you to his window, holding you close as he points to the house across the street from yours.

"I'd renovate that one. See how much grass it has behind it? I'd put fences there and make a small ranch. Raise some... Sheep, maybe. I'd look for the seeds you wanted. Maybe make a tiny greenhouse, grow some wheat so we could have bread. We'd have even more things to eat." He says, his eyes glistening and his lips in a smile that weakens when he looks down at you, your gaze focused on the house across the street.

It's never gonna happen.

"Would we live together?" You whisper, still focused on the house.

"If you wanted, yes. I'd love to." He smiles, fixing your hair, tenderly playing with it, trying to registrate it's softness and smell as he pulls you closer, his nose buried on your hair.

"Joel... My dad can't do this. You should stay. Stay for a few more days, I promise I'll talk to him and we'll fix this." You say, hugging him tighter, determined to not give up just yet. "He can't do this." You repeat, your eyes welling up again.

"He can. And he's right, it'll be best if I go." Joel says gently.

"Not best for me." You cry, your lips trembling under your emotions. "He can't do it." You say once again, like a mantra, your face darkening this time, as anger consumes you. "He can't keep me from making my own decisions." You say.

"Listen to me." Joel says sternly, calling you by your name, his hands holding your face so you have no choice but to look at him, his eyes as soft as ever. "Your father has his reasons. I need you to promise me you're not gonna hold this against him." He says, and you shake your head. "You won't get mad at him, you won't let this in any way get in the way of the two of you." He says sternly. "Can you promise me that?" He asks, softer this time, and you shake your head.

"I can't... He's making you go. Go back to the QZ, you said your life there is miserable." You say, crying.

"Promise me." He says, once again saying your name, using the same voice he used when his weight was on top of you, his hands all over you, his smell on your nose, his lips on yours, his hot breath on your neck.

The voice that makes it impossible for you to say no to him.

He gently taps your cheeks with his thumbs, raising his eyebrows, asking for a response.

"I promise." You say, and he hugs you tenderly, savoring your presence while he still can.

"That's my good girl." He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek, and you cling tighter to him. To imagine never feeling his warmth again, his comforting embrace, his presence...

And he's gonna miss you just as much. Your pretty clothes, your bright smile, your citric scent, your cooking, your laughing, your voice, your curiosity and genuine interest and care for him.

You're still indulging in each other's presence when Frank shows up by the door, his already red eyes watering as he sees you two by the window. He clears his throat before speaking, and you two look at him, just turning your heads, not pulling one inch apart.

"Bill's in our bedroom. He agreed to not leave, to let you go." He says, and Joel nods.

"Alright, I'm ready to go." He says, trying to pull you away, but you hold onto him, desperate to not lose this.

"Darling, let him go." Frank says, his voice shaking.

"I can't." You cry, your body not ready to allow this. To allow him to go forever.

"Baby, look at me." Joel calls, lifting your chin, and you let him maneuver you. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself. You'll be careful when you go outside, you'll take care of your parents, you won't be upset with your father." He says.

"Joel..." You cry out quietly, and he gently shakes his head.

"Promise me you'll let me go. You won't hurt yourself with what could've happened. You'll try and forget about all this." He says, his own chest hurting.

"I can't forget you, Joel." You say.

"And I won't forget you, baby." His voice breaks. "I'll think about you everyday. Everytime I feel sad, I'll come back to us, I'll remember you when I need comfort." He promises, making your heart ache. "But I need you to be ok." He says. "Can you promise me you'll try?" He asks.

"Joel..." You cry, feeling powerless and desperate, your chest tight.

"Baby, I need to know you're gonna be alright. I can't have the pain of leaving you hurting like this." He says. "I can't know I let you down too." He cries in a whisper, his voice almost inaudible.

"I promise." You recompose yourself. "I promise I'll try. But I'll hope to see you every day Joel. Every day." You say. "I'll never run out of hope." You promise, tears cascading down your cheeks.

Joel smiles, his eyes scanning your face, his fingers tenderly pulling your hair behind your ear. "I'll always love you, baby. You're forever with me, I'm never gonna hurt alone again." He says, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head before softening his arms around you.

You cry, releasing your grip around him and sitting on his bed, watching him put his backpack on. He grabs your chin, making you look up at him, his thumbs run over your cheeks, feeling your soft skin one last time, as if trying to memorize your face, and you run away to your bedroom. He looks at Frank, sighing sadly.

He can't believe he hurt you this much. He let this all happen.

"I'm sorry." He tells your dad.

"I'm sorry too." Frank responds.

He walks past your bedroom and you call him.

"Joel!" You say, your voice shaken by your crying. He looks at you, a hint of relief in his eyes; you didn't run from him.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks gently.

"Here. I took a photo of Sarah's photo. You talked about how it was fading, and I wanted to make sure it lasts for a little longer." You say, handing him her photo, his eyes flooding at his girl's smile.

"Thank you, baby. It means the world to me." He says, caressing her photo, feeling that there's another photo underneath hers. He pulls it and finds a picture of you, sitting under the sunlight, wearing a pretty dress and an even prettier smile.

"That one is so you don't forget about me. I sprayed some perfume in it." You smile weakly, and he chuckles, his eyes glistening as he smells the photo.

"I could never forget you, baby." He smiles, touching his forehead to yours and cupping your face the way he always does; your ear between his thumb and index finger while he caresses the skin under your eye. "Take good care of yourself. I'll always be thinking about you." He whispers, pulling back to kiss your forehead before looking at Frank. "Let's go." He says, looking into your eyes one last time before walking down the stairs.

And you watch him go. Trying to keep yourself together to not hurt him, but feeling like there are a million feelings stirring inside you, just waiting for him to disappear so they can erupt.

And as he walks past the gates, and then disappears in the horizon, that's exactly what happens. You collapse onto your bed as you cry. You cry like you've never cried before. You cry until your chest and your stomach hurt. They hurt and they burn in a way that feels like they're never gonna stop hurting again.

You cry until the pain eases. Until your head hurts more than your heart, then you stop crying, trying not to think about him. Trying to not think about what's gonna be of you now.

You have your parents until they die.

And then...?

Loneliness wraps you in a cold and dry embrace, and you fall asleep.

About an hour later Bill leaves his bedroom, finding Frank seated on the stairs. "Let me pass." He says, and Frank gets up.

"Bill... Please don't break our daughter's heart. Don't tell her Joel used or abused her, she really likes him, in ways you still don't know." He says. "And — sigh — I believe him when he said he likes her too.

"You believe he likes her, Frank? He was in our daughter's bed! He was in my babygirl's bed! God knows what he did to her!" Bill growls, keeping his voice low as tears threaten to fall again.

"Bill, I understand, but-"

"Don't defend him, Frank. I haven't forgotten you lied to me. You knew what he was doing and you didn't tell me anything." He says. "You asked me to let him go and I did. I did because I couldn't kill him and have her hate me the rest of her life. But you don't fucking ask me to try and understand him." He says, nudging Frank out of the way and going to your bedroom.

...

He unlocks your door — that you're locking again, now that Joel's gone — and walks in, watching you sleep.

He sits at the edge of your bed, right beside your lower back, and gently caresses your hair. You feel it and wake up, turning eagerly, hurting yourself with the hope that it'd be him.

"Hi, dad." You say, for the first time disappointed to see your father.

Bill looks at you. For the first time he doesn't know how to talk to you, what to say to you. He honestly doesn't even know why he came to your bedroom.

"... How are you feeling?" He asks a few seconds after parting his lips, not finding anything better to say.

You look at him, your eyes burning as they flood again, and you advert your gaze, not sustaining your dad's anymore.

He tries to soothe you, caressing your hair and softening his gaze, feeling bad because of how much Joel hurt you. Because of how selfish he was.

He thought of Joel as a good man. Even if older than you, he seemed to be a good man, a good man for you. He could provide for you, he could look after you. He could keep you happy and safe. Bill knows he made you happy. He saw it in your smile every time you were around him.

The problem is he decided to do that under his nose.

You can't help but cry again. Your dad's touch, that always soothed you when you needed, now stings the skin on its path, like if his own touch knows it took something away from you.

"He lied to me... And look what he did to you, I've never seen you cry like this." He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"I never cried like this because I've never had anything like this, dad. I never had anyone like him, I never felt like this... Loved like this." You manage to say, and Bill's eyes harden, his hand stopping its caress and pulling back.

"I don't know what kind of delusions he put in your mind, honey, but he doesn't love you more than your father and I do." He says sternly.

"I'm not saying that. He never said that." You defend yourself and him. "But for the first time I felt like a woman, not a child." You say, and his eyes narrow.

"Did he ever touch you?" He asks.

You hesitate before answering.

"He never did anything I didn't want him to."

He gets up, angry and exasperated. All under his fucking nose.

"I can't fucking believe this. How could I be so fucking.... Argh!" He screams, frustrated with himself.

How could he be so careless?

"He said you lied to him. Said you told him we've had other people around. When I told him we haven't, and I've never even kissed anyone before, he said he wouldn't do anything to me." You say, your voice starting to crack as you remember that first night... How he felt, how he held you, his strong arms maneuvering you so effortlessly, his beard scratching your skin, his big hands squeezing your body in such new and good ways, his smell, his warmth. How good it felt to finally be kissed.

Your eyes burn as you think about how you're never going to feel that again, how you'll never see him again.

"The worst part of all this is seeing you like this, my love." He says, sitting by your side again and caressing your hair. You need some comforting, so you curl into a ball, resting you head on his thigh and waiting for his hand to come to your hair.

Seeking comfort in the one that's causing you so much pain.

Your crying gets uglier, and your father soothes you.

"He ruined our family." He continues. "We were happy, we were in peace. He came and everything changed, he made you lie to me, do things behind my back. Made you point a gun to your own chest." His voice darkens. "I've only ever seen you so hurt when I got shot by those raiders." He says.

"The only two times in my life I knew I could lose someone." You cry.

You weren't living before Joel, life was comfortable and you were happy and safe, but there was not much more to it than cooking, cleaning and gardening. He gave a reason to want to dress up, to cook something good and different, to wanna play songs on the piano and to feel more hope in your future.

Because even in the comfort of Lincoln's fences, you knew your future held loneliness and solitude.

"And that someone did what he did knowing you could come out of it hurt like this." Bill says. "For that I don't think I'll ever forgive him." He says, holding you.

...

And Joel won't ever forgive himself either.

All he does whole going back to the QZ is think about you. How you're doing, how you're feeling.

He thinks about you all the time. In what you told him.

'I feel so much for you.' You said.

His chest hurts, and he can only think about how yours must hurt too. So he doesn't try to cut his painful thoughts.

Much like he did when Sarah died, he forces himself through self loathing.

Like penitence, like self-punishment for what he did. He knows you're suffering, and he knows there's nothing he can do about it. He knows it's his fault, and thinking about it, suffering about it is the only way he can make up for the pain he's caused.

By suffering along with you. By not sleeping enough, not eating enough, not working enough.

He doesn't deserve a happy and comfortable life.

Not when he failed someone he loves again. Not when he knows how bad you're feeling.

Time goes by, and the deal goes on.

They work together, but Joel can't come near the gates nor call or answer the radio. He stays in a safehouse near Lincoln and Tess comes to talk to your parents while you stay in your bedroom, hoping every single time you're gonna see him. Even if just a glimpse of him behind the gates.

But he's never there, and as weeks go by, you eventually lose your hope.

You're not half as bubbly as you were when Joel was around. Not near as sunny and happy as you used to be before him.

And Bill notices it. The way you don't always play the piano anymore, the way you don't always put perfume on. It's like part of you left with Joel. And Bill can't help but grow even angrier at him because of it.

...

One night after dinner, maybe about one month after he was gone, you're by your window, and Frank comes in your bedroom, leaning against the window, the side of his hips touching the side of yours as he smiles down at you.

"How are you feeling, my dove?" He asks, pulling your hair away from your face and caressing your cheeks, noticing how pale you are and how lifeless your hair seems.

"Better, I guess. There's no point in mourning if he's never coming back. And he asked me to try anyway, so I'm trying." You sigh, leaning onto your dad's shoulder.

"That's good. What's that on your hand?" He asks.

"His plan. I like thinking about it sometimes. Of what he'd have done." You say, showing him a polaroid of the view from your bedroom window, with focus on the house across the street, the one Joel said he'd renovate.

"He wanted to fence it to raise some animals?" Frank smiles, seeing the drawing you made over the photo, with the fences, the sheep, the greenhouse and a few crops.

"Yeah. He said a greenhouse would be good to have more variety. And I thought the sheep would keep him busy." You smile.

"He'd be a great addition to our town." Frank sighs, thinking of what could come of their combined skills and resilience. "He'd be a good addition to your life too." He whispers.

"He would." You smile, allowing yourself to daydream.

Waking up early with him by your side, going to your crops, taking care of your animals, having breakfast, going to your dads' house to talk to them. Go for a run with Frank, maybe convince Bill and Joel to join you. Learn more about the guitar and teach Joel how to play the piano, take care of your dads with him, go hunting, go to the lake, make a pool and let the rain fill it.

There ain't much to do in this life.

But you'd rather do little with him by your side.

Bill's in his bunker, cleaning his guns and organizing some things.

After all the time that has passed he came to terms with you. He understood your side when you showed him you understood his, but Joel's behavior was still not something he could accept.

"Frank?" Joel's voice comes out of the radio.

Bill frowns. He made it clear to Frank that he never again wanted Joel to have any communication with them. Any and every deal or supply related exchange should be made through Tess.

"What the fuck are you doing on the radio?" Bill asks, and Joel's heart loses its rhythm. "I said I never wanted to fucking hear from you again. So what? The fuck? Are you doing? On my fucking radio?" Your dad repeats, and Joel clears his throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He says.

Bill hears it, but he doesn't respond.

"Not just for being on the radio." He adds, and Bill looks at the device, as if trying to see Joel's face through it. "I know what you must've felt when you saw us but—" He keeps going, but Bill interrupts him.

"You have no fucking idea what I felt, Joel." He says, and Joel goes quiet. He owns Bill as many chances to vent as he needs. "You have no fucking idea what I felt when I saw my daughter... That I have since she was a baby... That turned diapers into my priority when I only wanted to find more ammo, that I always did everything I could to keep safe... You have no idea of what it felt like when I saw her laying on her bed with you." He says, anger and sadness coating every word he let out. "To find out she lied to me? Because of you? That I trusted you inside my fences, inside my house? That I fed you, that I made a deal with you... And you were touching my daughter behind my back?" He continues, Joel's eyes pouring tears as he puts on Bill's shoes, as he thinks of Sarah.

He knew when Bill pointed that gun at him that he wouldn't shoot. Deep down him and Bill are very similar men, — very similar fathers —and he knew that, if ever in his position, he'd put his daughter in the first place.

He always would.

So he wouldn't shoot the son a bitch that was doing God-knows-what with her behind his back. Not because he believed a man like that was worth of any of his respect or mercy.

But because he knew how that'd affect his child.

So he knew Bill wouldn't shoot him. He couldn't let you have the memory of his brain splattered all over your bedsheets. He knows exactly how Bill feels.

"I know how you feel—" He says, his voice choked by his eminent tears.

"Don't fucking say that!" Bill growls, his voice low and threatening. "Don't you ever fucking say that because you don't know! If you knew what it is like to be a father you wouldn't have done it!" He lets his voice raise a bit.

Thankfully you're far away from your house, sitting besides your crops, looking for anything that requires some extra attention. Away from this.

Bill's words cut right through Joel. "I know how it feels like, Bill. That's why I'm sorry. Because if I were you, I would just not have killed me because of Sarah. Because I know a father wouldn't do that to his daughter, to have her last memory of the man she says she loves to be his brains pooling in her pillow. I'm not thanking you for not killing me because I know you didn't put that gun down because of me."

"Sarah?" Bill asks quietly.

"I know how you feel, Bill. I know what it feels like to be afraid to lose your daughter—" Joel starts, his voice drown in his crying. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than to see my little girl safe and happy... And I'd give anything to have her here with me. But to imagine having her lie to me, having someone taking advantage of her makes my blood boil, makes my skin burn." He continues. Bill is looking around, processing what Joel's telling him. "So I am sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for making her lie to you. You have all the right to never want to hear from me again, and I won't stay on your way." He says.

Bill's eyes are burning, he's feeling his chest tighten as Joel speaks. There's too much honesty in his voice for him to be lying.

The girl in the painting he saw Frank working on... Could it be her?

"You—" he tries to speak, but his voice stays stuck on his throat.

"I'll never take you as wrong for hating me. No. But as hard as it may be for you to believe me, I need you to know I do care about her. I always did. I wasn't going to do anything to her until I talked to you and Frank. I wasn't planning on leaving, because I didn't want to hurt her. I never moved one finger she didn't want me to." He says. "Because I care about her... I want to know she's okay, she's happy, she's dressed in the clothes she likes." He chuckles, thinking about how happy your clothes make tou. "And she's safe. She's safe and she's happy. That's all I care about. And I haven't felt the way I felt with her in so long, but I'd give all that up, I'd keep living in my misery just so she didn't feel those feelings too." He sounds sincere, the pain he's been carrying ever since seeing your face, your despair, being poured on the radio. "Because now I'm even deeper in misery, because I know how she's feeling. And I know she's feeling that way because of me. So I'm sorry for what I did, but I know you can't ever forgive me for making her feel this way, because I won't ever forgive myself either." He says. "Please don't ever think twice before reaching out for anything she ever wants or needs. Anything at all. I'll always be here for anything she needs."

"How'd you lost her?" Bill asks, and Joel freezes. He didn't expect him to wanna keep talking. Or to ask about Sarah.

"Outbreak day." He starts, his eyes burning. "A guard pointed a gun at us and I... I just stood there. I just... Let him shoot us, shoot her." He says, sounding monotonic, almost apathetic as he's shut down any feelings he still had about that day. As he knows you're not there to soothe him and he can't let his feelings overwhelm him.

"How old was she?" Bill asks, his voice shaken by his emotion.

Joel takes a few seconds, when he speaks, his voice is barely understandable. "Fourteen."

"Oh my God—" Bill says, feeling a pang in his chest. "I'm sorry." He continues. "She's... I... Just to imagine losing her I... God." He can't express how painful the loss of a child must be.

The two of them go silent for a few seconds, each processing their own feelings and relentless thoughts.

"I called to say I've found the medicine Frank asked for. We need nothing, Tess and I will bring the medicine to you in a few days." Joel says, recomposing himself.

It takes Bill a second to respond.

"Alright. We'll give you something in return here." He says, and the radio goes silent.

Later that day, Bill and Frank lay on their bed, and Bill can't seem to fall asleep.

"Frank?" He calls his husband, who turns around to face him.

"Yeah, love?" He answers.

"Tell me everything you knew about them." He says, and Frank studies Bill's face before laying on his back, telling everything he saw and everything you've told him.

He tells Bill how happy and in love you were. What he heard from Joel's bedroom the day he left; how he made you promise you wouldn't hold any resentment towards your father.

He tells Bill about how he saw you two kiss before Joel left that one time and how you asked him to paint Sarah. How Joel had the plan to raise sheep and make a greenhouse to provide better food for you. How honest Joel's feelings seemed, and how sad he seemed to have to leave you.

"Bill... You know she's gonna stay alone one day." Frank says, his voice shaken by the tears that threaten to fall from his eyes, all caused by the inevitable. "Our girl doesn't deserve loneliness. She deserves love. Love like the one we have." He says, holding Bill's hand. "Aren't you happier now than you'd be without me and her?" He whispers, and Bill's eyes water, pools forming on their corners.

"You two are my everything." He cries. "I don't know what would've been of me without you."

"You'd still be alive, thriving even. Because you're you." Frank laughs gently. "But that's not everything, is it? It's not fair with her. To be forced into an inevitable solitude." He says. "I understand and respect your decision. We all do, even her, even though all the pain it caused her. But think about her." He says, gently kissing Bill's lips before snuggling close to him.

Bill's quick to return the closeness, wrapping his arms around Frank protectively.

And this intimate moment makes him think of you.

Alone in your bed, with no one to talk to before you fall asleep, no one to dream with, no one to share a life with after him and Frank are gone.

The next day he sits on his bunker, besides the radio, his forehead resting on his hands. His legs shake nervously as he waits for a voice to come up and answer his call.

"This is Tess. Is everything ok?" He hears, and his heart pounds inside his chest.

"Tess?" He tries to not let his voice come out too shaky. "This is Bill. Can you get Joel, please?" He says, doing perhaps the greatest act of love he's ever done.

Please, please tell me what you thought about it, i love reading your comments and reblogs in this series, it makes my day 🩷🫶🏻

The final part is already written, and I'm editing it right now, I hope you all come back to end this story with me, ily all so much 🩷

@cruelfvkingsummer Bill finally blew a fuse 🤧

Tagging people who showed love for this series throughout this whole time:

@yellowbubblewrap @therealmrszenin @luna50 @trishpish-blog1 @zelena89 @ayamenimthiriel @allmyn1ghts @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucuflfluclu @blooodmoonbarnes @thecaptainpandabear @samsamsantos @cleopatra99 @pedritoferg @trishpish-blog @mscolorhead @mrsjavierp

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #dirty hands #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x virgin reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller angst

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your-local-bookworm · 8 months

Text

"To hell with revenge, to hell with his schemes. If Rollins had done something to Inej, Kaz would paint East Stave with his entrails"

- Crooked Kingdom

I don't think we talk about this much, but this one line just shows how important Inej is, to Kaz.

Revenge is the foundation of Kaz's life, his sole purpose, his final destination, his motivation. The reason he lives. Revenge is why Kaz didn't give up. Revenge is everything to him.

And yet he was willing to give that up. For what?

For Inej. Inej Ghafa. His Wraith. The only person he could trust and knew won't use his secrets against him.

And I think it is very important.

#six of crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #the wraith #kanej #kaz and inej #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #dirty hands #bastard of the barrels #Crow club #i would come for you #i protect my investments

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queenofspades6 · 1 year

Text

The Monster you wanted me to be - Kaz Brekker x reader

REQUEST: “i’ve been thinking of like a fic where reader is like not innocent but doesn’t like killing people and kaz tells her she needs to grow up or something so after some time she ends up being like super badass and just like batshit crazy and comes back from a mission just drenched in blood and kaz like reflects on what he’s created because he liked her but didn’t mean to turn her into this and they have a conversation.”

Warnings: Violence. Murder. Rape. Blood. Touch aversion.

Author’s Note: I loved the idea! Thank you for the request! I hope you liked it! It was so fun to write it! I may have added to much violence, and background for reader, I hope you don’t mind! Enjoy!!!

———

Kaz Brekker was the one who saved you. Usually, you didn’t tell people how you first meet Kaz Brekker, because who would believe you? When it happened, you were a young girl with no family left, no home, and no money. So when a man named Pekka Rollins found you begging for food in the street, and promised you a marvelous and wealthy future you couldn’t say no. You were not naive, but you had nothing left. It was going with Pekka Rollins or dying in the streets. What you didn’t know was that Rollins wanted you to be his prize, the beautiful girl he would sell for the highest bid. At the time you didn’t know...

Pekka Rollins brought you most of the time when he had to meet with investors, promising you to these men if they made a deal.

You didn’t know until that one evening Pekka had told you to dress well and show some skin. You had purposely worn a red gown with cleavage, firmly believing that Pekka wanted you to look beautiful to help him make a deal. And it did. You thought at least Pekka would respect you, but he didn’t.

You learned the hard truth after a promising deal, when he told you to go home with a huge, bearded man that had stared at you all night with desire. He told you to please the man, to be gentle if that was what the man wanted, that if he was to slap you, you would be still and accept it. You had frowned, and grimaced, telling him you wouldn’t do it, but he grinned at you.

“You will. You owe me money now, you can’t go. And if you ever do, I’ll find you, and you’ll regret saying me no.” He whispered into your ear.

A single tear had run down your cheek, he had licked it with his tongue, making you want to vomit.

“Don’t cry sweetheart, it will make him push harder, you don’t want that, don’t you?”He muttered, caressing your cheek.

***

You didn’t cry.

This night would always remain in your memory. It was probably the worse night you ever had. The man had beaten you until you were bleeding and had pushed into you without warning.

It hurt, you remembered. You hoped to fall unconscious, but your body betrayed you. You had screamed once while he pushed harder into your core, and then you stayed silent, and remained still. It was hopeless to scream, the man was loving it even more. He wanted you to cry, but you couldn’t let him win, so you repeated these words in your head until he was finished: ‘I can survive everything’. ‘I can survive everything’ ‘I can survive everything’ ‘I can survive every-‘

After this dreadful night, Pekka had asked you to sleep with other men to conclude deals. The times you said no, you were almost beaten to death.

The day when you met Kaz Brekker had been one of these days when you had said ‘no’. Pekka punched you until you vomited blood. Your upper lip needed stitches, and your side was bleeding.

You needed a drink after being beaten so badly, and while going to the nearest tavern, you noticed three armed men trying to steal the jewelry of an old woman. Even if you still tasted blood in your mouth, you ran towards the attackers, and fought them until they ran for their lives. You didn’t kill them, you couldn’t.

Kaz Brekker had watched the entire time. He saw you, a frail and bloody girl defending an old woman in a street with your bare fists. With no weapon, you defeated the men, and helped the old woman go back to her house.

Kaz had followed you for hours in Ketterdam’s streets, watching your every move. That’s when he saw you stealing people’s wallets without them noticing, and that made him convinced he needed you as his crow. Since then, you had always been a Crow, a young girl who knew how to handle blades and especially firearms. There wasn’t a single day when he regretted hiring you. He paid off your debt, and promised himself to kill Pekka when he could.

For Jordie, and you.

***

You loved to think you were a friend of Kaz. Even if you wished you were more. He always asked if you were alright, always tried not to involve you when it was about Pekka Rollins.

He never mentioned once, to anyone that Pekka had forced you to be an escort. Nobody knew. Dirtyhands had let people think you had stolen something from Pekka, and that was why Pekka wanted his money back. Nobody questioned Kaz when it came to you, nobody dared.

He was always thoughtful with you, always considerate. Sometimes he sent you jewels, leaving a necklace on your bed with just a note with a crow drawn. You knew it was him, because you had looked for these notes in his office, and you found multiple. So he must care, right? If not, why bother with all this?

***

Even if you worked for Kaz for years. He never noticed that you didn’t wish to kill. You had promised yourself to try with all your might not to kill. Of course, Kaz Brekker couldn’t know. He didn’t need to know, until one day, he asked you in his office. Alone. Right now.

What had you done? Dirtyhands usually summoned all the Crows in his office, not just you.

“Kaz.” You greeted him.

He acknowledged your presence with a simple nod.

“I need you.” He declared, his tone grave.

If it was not Kaz Brekker saying this, you would have thought it romantic.

“What do you need me for?”

“There is a man I need you to kill. I’ll give you the name, the address, it must be done tonight.”

“I don’t kill.” You retorted without a second thought. You couldn’t bear taking a life and watching someone you killed die.

“You don’t kill?” Kaz repeated, a menacing tone in his voice, and his eyes piercing through you.

You tilted your head in disagreement.

“I need you to kill this man.”

“I’ll say it again, Kaz, I don’t kill.”

“Why?”

You saw something passing in his eyes, but you couldn’t decipher what.

“Because I can’t.” You replied.

“Oh yes, you do, Kaz started raising his voice, just grow up, you’re living in Ketterdam, Y/N, if you can’t kill, you won’t survive in the Barrel.”

Determined not to yield, you crossed your arms and shook your head.

“You are going to kill this man, Y/N, because if you don’t, you are of no use to me.”

You felt anger rushing through you, and sadness. You thought maybe Kaz had appreciated your presence, but that was a lie. Another lie from a powerful man. You were only an investment. Only one of his girls.

You didn’t answer, and quickly approached the door, ready to live.

“Y/N, don’t you dare leave this room!”

The hand still on the handle, you opened the door, and left the room, slamming the door with all your might. You almost smirked knowing the whole Crow Club would hear.

You passed through the people in the crowd of the Club. You spotted Inej, and Jesper at the counter of the bar. But you couldn’t face them tonight.

Kaz wanted you to kill someone. But how could you? You knew that if you did, you would not stop. It would become easy. So easy to take a life, to watch someone take his last breath, and smile.

How many times Pekka Rollins had taken lives without remembering the faces of the dead? And Kaz?

You pushed away the thought. Pekka and Kaz were different, but weren’t they both using you like a puppet only to serve their ends?

You wanted to scream, to go back to your room in the Crow Club and forget that this ever happened. But you couldn’t.

You looked at the small piece of crumbled paper in your hand. Kaz hadn’t noticed you had taken it from him. You looked at the name and the address written in Kaz’s handwriting before folding it and putting it in your pocket. One look at your revolvers displayed on your nightstand gave you all the answers you needed.

Kaz wanted a monster, then you’ll give him one.

***

“Boss. You here?” Jesper asked and entered Kaz’s office without knocking.

“Jesper.”

“What happened? I saw Y/N leaving your office in a rush.”

“It’s none of your business.”

Jesper rolled his eyes.

“What did you do this time?” The Zemeni boy asked.

“I told Y/N to kill someone, and she didn’t want to.”

“And? Why did you ask her? Nina, or Matthias could do it, why Y/N? Or I could do it. I never miss a target.” Jesper winked at Kaz, a malicious grin on his lips.

Kaz sat, and sighed, holding his cane between his hands, and looked at Jesper.

“What?” Jesper asked. ”I am looking good, I know.“

His hand still on his cane, he looked away, avoiding Jesper’s gaze.

“What if Y/N never comes back, Kaz? Did you think about that?”

Kaz groaned.

No, he didn’t think about it. He couldn’t. He didn’t bear the mere thought of never seeing you again.

And what if Pekka found you? He tried to push away the thought of this first time his eyes set on you. So frail. Bruised and bloody, but still standing triumphantly.

“She will come back.” Kaz declared, almost as a prayer.

“What if she doesn’t?” Questioned Jesper.

“Then we let her go.”

“No! She’s been part of the crew ever since you took her in. She is one of us, Kaz. Inej didn’t want to kill either and you let her stay, why not Y/N?”

He didn’t realize his breathing was heavy, and that his hold on his cane had tightened. No, she wouldn’t leave the Crows, the Crow Club and the Dregs. No, she wouldn’t leave him.

At this moment, Kaz Brekker felt lonely. Even if Jesper was there in his office, something was off.

“Leave, Jesper.” Kaz asked, almost wishing Jesper would stay without a word.

“Kaz, you can’t let Y/N leave! You care about her!”

“Leave! Now.” Dirtyhands shouted.

Jesper raised his hands and left the room.

Miserable. That’s how Kaz felt. He put his face in his hands, sighing loudly.

What if you left?

Since that day in the streets, he knew he wanted to protect you from Pekka Rollins, from Ketterdam, and himself. He had tried. He prevented you from ever being involved with Rollins or even with the Dime Lions.

Sometimes, you would enter his office late at night while people were playing Poker in the Crow Club, you would wait for him to talk. About anything. At first, he found it annoying, and hated when you did that, but now he secretly treasured these moments. He wouldn’t admit it, but you could make him smile.

The first times you came to him late in the night to talk, he stayed silent, and you were the only one to speak. Through your secret meetings, you told him about Pekka and the men that had raped you. He had mentally taken note of the names, and these men were found dead a few days later.

But now how was he supposed to forget?

***

A body was lying in a pool of blood.

The feeling in the air was foreboding. The bloodied knife on the desk was displayed on the kitchen counter.

A young woman was looking for a towel or a piece of fabric in the cupboards. Taking her time, she opened them one by one, and when she finally found a blue towel, she took it and wiped the bloody blade of the knife. The woman glanced at the corpse and was tempted to clean the mess.

There were sheets of paper soaked in blood placed on the ground. The woman had read them all.

The man had his mouth open almost as if before dying he had screamed.

Albert Ackers was a slaver; he separated the children from their families to sell them to the highest bidder. Maybe he had deserved it.

The woman unfolded the little note in her pocket with the name of the man, she brought the flame of the lighter near it, before letting the paper burn.

***

The door of Kaz Brekker’s office opened suddenly, Kaz frowned.

“It’s done.” You muttered, looking Dirtyhands in the eyes.

He nodded, grateful you finally returned home.

Home.

This was it then? His home, your home? The crows’ home? You were going to leave his office, without another word.

“Y/N, wait.”

You closed the door, leaving him in the dark again.

***

Kaz Brekker never regretted anything in his life. Until he asked you to kill Albert Ackers. He knew the man was the devil himself, but he should have respected you enough to let it go.

And now you ignored him all the time. Late at night, the door of his office was always ajar where it never was. Each night, the Bastard of the Barrel was waiting for you to come.

You never came.

***

You were only there when the Crows were waiting in his office to discuss a contract. Kaz had noticed you didn’t hesitate to kill anymore. You could be ruthless, and even cruel sometimes. Kaz Brekker hated himself for that. He had taken what he loved the most in you. He loved how compassionate you were, always willing to help even if it meant hurting yourself.

Kaz regretted deeply what he had done. Even more when he began to find every night a new jewel he offered you, displayed on his bed. How he hated himself...

He had lost Jordie, and now you. What was the point of being the King of the Barrel, and having thousands of kruge if he couldn’t have what he wanted?

***

“Y/N, what happened between you and Kaz?” Inej questioned you.

You were sitting at the bar of the Crow Club drinking alcohol with Inej.

“Nothing.”

“Y/N. Everyone noticed the changes in you and Kaz.”

You shook your head, avoiding the Wraith’s gaze.

“Y/N, what happened?” Inej asked, putting a hand on your arm softly.

You finally dared look at her, almost shamefully.

“He wanted me to kill someone, and I didn’t want to.”

Inej raised her eyebrows in wonder, listening to you carefully.

“I killed the man, Inej.” You confessed. “I did it for Kaz.”

“That’s why you’re ignoring him?”

You nodded.

“I am a monster, now. The monster everyone wanted me to be. I became what I despised, and the worst, Inej, is I think I like it.”

Inej approached you and caressed your arm gently.

”You are no monster.”

***

The Crows were reunited in Kaz’s office to steal an ancient weapon worth thousands kruge. You all discussed with the details, and when it was settled, the Crows began to leave, you were going to follow them, until you felt a soft hand on your arm.

“Y/N. Stay.”

“Why? To remind me I am just another investment. Just a puppet to take care of people? No, thank you, I am good.” You declared, almost angrily.

“That’s not true. Stay.” He muttered, praying you would listen for once. “Please.”

His hold on your arm tightened, you pushed his hand away as if it was poisoned and left the room.

Here he was. Alone at last. Again.

***

Kaz had given Nina, Matthias and Jesper a mission to retrieve folders from an important man in Ketterdam.

There were many disappearances these last few months, and Kaz had heard this man was probably involved. Disappearances were not good for business, Dirtyhands had to take the matter in his own hands. He needed information.

The plan was perfect: breaking into the man’s mansion which was heavily guarded, stealing the folders, and leaving. What Kaz didn’t know was that you were going too.

Nina, Matthias and Jesper had agreed to let you go with them. In case things went wrong, another person would come in handy.

You all entered through a window as silently as possible. You looked around you, and stared at the room you were in. Firearms of all length were displayed on the walls. It was a splendid weapons room exhibiting firearms with the most advanced technologies. Jesper made a little scream.

“God answered my prayer!” He whispered. “Am I dead because it’s like being in heaven.”

“Jesper, focus.” Nina reminded him while Matthias was guarding the door.

Matthias glanced at Nina, letting her know it was time to look for information.

”Go with Matthias, Nina, I am going to stay with Jesper. Be fast.” You told her.

She nodded and followed Matthias down the corridor.

You stared at Jesper, your hands in your hips, a frowning look on your face.

“What?” Jesper questioned, kissing a gun.

“Jesper, we need to go.”

“But Y/N, have you seen these guns?”

You nodded, and he sighed, feeling disappointed. Jesper kissed the firearm and caressed the soft metal. The cold metal felt good against his skin.

“Take some if you want.” You told him. “But be quick.”

He almost embraced you but was too preoccupied to gather some of the most amazing guns he had ever seen.

“We need to move.” You said, crouching and watching the hallway.

Jesper followed you when you advanced in the hallway. There were so many rooms, how were you supposed to find the good folders? Hopefully, Nina and Matthias would have more luck.

You began to look for the folders in the rooms, Jesper looking for the bookshelves, and you for the desk. Nothing.

“Oh. That’s good, you need to hear that, Y/N.” Jesper exclaimed, a hand open in his hands.

“What? You found something.” You whispered, almost expecting he found one of the folders.

“Yes, I did! Watch that.”

You looked at the pages Jesper showed you, it was about some Saint of firearms that never missed his target.

“Jes, stop that. We are not here for that.”

“But Y/N, what if the Saint is me?”

You stared at him incredulously, wanting to laugh out loud. You tapped him in the shoulders, and Jesper being Jesper let the book fall out of his hands. It fell on the floor in a loud thumb. You hoped nobody had heard.

“What was that?” A distant voice cried.

You heard footsteps. Two people. In the hallway. You told Jesper to stay still, and when the guards opened the door, they never saw what was coming. You threw a dagger in the neck of the first one, and with grace, you were going to slit the throat of the other one, but Jesper shot.

You groaned. Now everyone knew you were here. Thank you, Jesper.

“To my defense, he tried to kill you.” Jesper declared.

“Come on, we need to find Nina and Matthias, and the folders if we have time.”

You moved without a sound, Jesper following you closely when you heard a woman screaming.

“It’s Nina!” Jesper shouted.

Both of you didn’t wait, you ran towards the sound. There were more guards waiting, and one was pulling Nina’s hair.

Without thinking, you threw yourself at the man, a knife in the hand. You stabbed the man in the neck while he kicked you in the stomach. You stabbed him again in the heart. His breathing stopped. You were covered in blood. You could feel the liquid running down your cheeks and your lips, feeling the metallic taste.

“Damn, Y/N.” Nina muttered. You ignored her, and asked:

“Do you have the folders?”

She nodded.

“We need to go fast.”

Matthias, Nina and Jesper followed you to the nearest room. You opened the window slowly. You heard male voices in the hallway. You were glad you had locked the door, but it wouldn’t last long.

You gestured to Nina to go first, and then Matthias helped you through the window. Jesper did the same, and Matthias came too. All of you began running on the roof following the same path you used to come. At least you were all safe and you had the folders.

***

You threw the folders all soaked with your blood on Kaz’s desk. His arms were crossed as if he had expected Matthias, Nina and Jesper to come back. He was furious you went too.

“This is what you wanted.” You exclaimed and held his gaze.

Kaz noticed how drenched in blood you were, the skin above your eyebrow open, and wounds on your arms. You did kill after all. Dirtyhands would have preferred you didn’t.

Nina said something, but you were too caught up in Kaz’s gaze to hear.

“Ugh, if you’re going to stare at each other all day, then I’ll let you to it. I am hungry.” Nina declared, already leaving.

Matthias followed her, a shy hand on her back. Jesper followed them too.

You stayed. You didn’t know why, but you remained still. Kaz stood up, and advanced towards the door. He closed it behind Jesper.

Now it was just the two of you.

“Y/N.”

You plunged your gaze in Kaz’s, almost losing yourself in his ocean-blue eyes. Even if you were angry with him, you couldn’t hate him, even if you wanted to.

“Kaz.”

He examined your face and your body for any wound, he found multiple. You were covered in blood, soaking his office with the dirt of your boots.

“You went with them.”

It was more like an understatement, than a question. Watching you wounded and bloodied made him feel bad. Terribly bad.

You nodded, a hand on your hip, waiting for him to speak.

What was it Kaz wanted to say? He had prepared what he wanted to tell you, but now no word came.

“Are you done? Because I desperately need a shower.”

“I am sorry.” He whispered eyes fixed on the ground.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

A small smile was drawing on your lips. Was it real? Did Dirtyhands really apologize to you?

“Stop smiling.”

“Was it an apology I heard from the Bastard of the Barrel?” You questioned.

“I told you, Y/N, I am sorry. For everything.”

You sighed and were ready to leave.

Kaz put his hand on your arm, tightening his hold to make you stay.

“Sit on the desk.” He commanded you.

You did as you were told. With the back of your hand, you pushed the documents on the desk, and sat, feet no longer touching the ground.

Kaz had a bowl of hot water in his hands, he put it carefully on the desk with a clean towel. Your eye caught a needle and thread. You winced at the thought of the pain.

Not leaving your gaze, Kaz gently removed his black gloves. You swore you saw him shiver.

He took the clean towel and put it slowly in the bowl, and then with meticulous precision, he approached it to your face.

The towel touched your face, caressing the skin to remove the blood. You didn’t close your eyes; you were staring at Kaz the whole time. His eyes were focused on his fingers and the contact of the towel on his skin.

He tried to touch your cheek with his thumb. The touch was unbearable, but he stroked the skin nonetheless. He closed his eyes and sucked on his breath.

“You don’t have to.” You told him, noticing his invisible pain.

“I want to.”

I need to, he wanted to say.

Then he removed his hand from your face and watched your arms. You began taking off your shirt. Kaz broke your gaze, shy at the thought of seeing more skin on your body.

He washed the blood from the towel and took another one. He rubbed the excess of blood from your arms, brushing your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

“Why?” You whispered.

He plunged his eyes into yours, and you thought he looked like a little boy, not Dirtyhands.

“You’re hurt, it’s my fault.”

You desperately wanted to say ‘no’, and he needed you to say it. But you didn’t, you knew better.

“Your debts to me, to everyone in Ketterdam no longer exist. You are free.”

You nodded, not really realizing what happened.

“Free to flee wherever you want, I’ll give you money, you can even buy a house, begin over.”

No answer.

“But...”

“But?” You asked.

“But you are free to stay. You’ll always have a place here. You’ll always be a Crow.”

“Am I not an investment anymore?” You questioned eyebrows raised in wonder.

“You never were.” He muttered.

“That’s not what I felt.”

“I am sorry for Albert Ackers. I knew you didn’t want to kill, I forced you to do so, and now... “

“I am the monster you created. You wanted me to kill, I kill now, isn’t that good enough for you?” You shouted, taking the bloody fabric from his hands.

“It was already enough. You were already enough, Y/N.” He whispered.

“I became what you wanted me to be, Kaz.”

“I didn’t want that, Y/N.”

“Me neither.” You replied.

“You’re already enough. Stay. Stay with the crows. Stay with me.”

“I am a monster, Kaz.”

“You are not.”

“I am. And you know what’s worst? I don’t mind it, and that scares me.”

“Do you remember the faces of the people you killed?” Kaz asked.

”Each of them. Every night.”

“No monster would remember their faces.”

You closed your eyes, and let the tears run down your cheeks.

“What am I becoming, Kaz?” You cried.

He stood still, staring at you crying, scratching his hands. He wanted to hold you but he couldn’t.

Slowly he touched your shoulder and caressed it. You welcomed the contact and took his soft hand in yours. His breathing became heavy, but his eyes were still locked with yours.

“Stay, Y/N. Stay with me in Ketterdam. We’ll try to tame our demons. Together.”

You nodded, and approached your delicate hand to his face, waiting for him to refuse. He let you touch his cheek even if it burned, and he wanted to scream, but he didn’t. You deserved the world, and for you, he needed to face his demons. Eyes in his, you approached your mouth to his ear, and whispered:

“Together.”

———

If you liked it, don’t forget to like, and comment, it motivates me to write! Thank you!

———

If you liked this x reader, you may love this one with Kaz Brekker:

⬇️ ⬇️

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ohcashewart · 1 year

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#kaz brekker #six of crows #shadow and bone #grishaverse #s&b season 2 #s&b netflix #crooked kingdom #dirty hands

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kazscrows · 1 year

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Kaz: If you kill me you’ll bring down the Wraith of my crew.

Random Thug: … Don’t you mean wrath?

Inej: *appearing from the shadows with a knife*

Inej: No. He doesn’t.

#kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej #six of crows #crooked kingdom #the wraith #dirty hands #shadow and bone #grishaverse #incorrect quotes #has this been done before?#kazscrows #leigh bargudo #my blorbos #blorbo

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philosophybits · 11 months

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As far as men go, it is not what they are that interests me, but what they can become.

Jean-Paul Sartre, Dirty Hands

#philosophy #quotes #Jean-Paul Sartre #Dirty Hands #being #becoming #change #existentialism

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i-am-traveling-the-multifandom · 3 months

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Jesper: *quietly* I've lied to you sometimes… Kaz: What do you mean? Jesper: Sometimes I say, ‘I need a hug’, when really, I think you might be the one who needs the hug. Kaz: 😭

#incorrect six of crows #six of crows #source: tumblr #kazper #kaz brekker #dirty hands #jesper fahey #they are in love

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georgies-ftts · 1 year

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I really just wanna see Wylan telling Kaz about his dyselxia and Wylan deciding not to bring it up afterwards and he expects no one to mention it again cause he believes it’s a nuisance to them and by not talking about it they’re not acknowledging it exists and therefore the ‘problem’ disappears

and then Wylan is trying to read something Kaz has given him but he’s just dragging his eyes across the page, not actually taking any of the information in. Then Kaz comes up to him and takes the paper and reads off the information just loud enough for only Wylan to hear.

Then Wylan stares at him with wides eyes, confused as to why the Bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands, the man he’s watched cut eyes out and shatter skulls with his cane, is reading to him without a hint of mockery or annoyance. Kaz just stares at him and says:

“I may be a monster but I am not your father.”

Then he hands Wylan back the paper and walks away.

#six of crows #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone season 2 #wylan van eck #six of crows wylan #wylan hendriks #soc wylan #kaz brekker #six of crows kaz #crooked kingdom #kaz and wylan #dirty hands #kazzle dazzle

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sidraofthewildflowers · 7 months

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"My mother is Ketterdam. She birthed me in the harbor. And my father is profit. I honor him daily."

- Kaz Brekker

#I was in a six of crows mood ✨#kaz brekker #moodboard #six of crows #kaz brekker aesthetic #shadow and bone #leigh bargudo #the crows #six of crows aesthetic #mood board #ketterdam #the barrel #the dregs #soc #kazzle dazzle #dirty hands #the crow club #dark academia

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daria1611 · 1 year

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My boy, my boy, I can’t control my emotions, I am literally crying

#netflix #leigh bargudo #shadow and bone #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #inej ghafa #shadow and bone season 2 #kanej #bastard of the barrel #kaz dirtyhands brekker #dirty hands

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lpa6zn · 11 months

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#shadow and bone #grishaverse #six of crows #kaz brekker #wylan hendriks #wylan van eck #shadow and bone s2 #freddy carter #jack wolfe #the crow club #memes #kazzle dazzle #dirty hands #wylan van sunshine #the terrorist

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ghostfanwriter · 10 months

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💖🧰 Dirty hands pt 3 🧰💖

Part one Part two

💖 Pairing: Dbf!Joel Miller x Virgin!Fem!Reader

🧰 Synopsis: Joel keeps finding reasons to stay in Lincoln. And you worry about the day he leaves, but he makes sure to show you how special this whole thing also is for him.

💖 Features: 🔞, fluffy and domestic Joel, Joel fixing things for her, masturbation (m and f), soft — so soft — (kinda dom) Joel, praise, pet names, quick cumplay (for poor Joel's desperation), sprinkles of angst here and there (I hurt my own feelings sometimes).

🧰 Word count: 9.5k. I'm so no sorry about this.

💖 About this: It took me forever to find this story, but I'm so, so glad it came out how it did. This series is gonna be a bit longer than I planned, but I have some real cool ideias for the next parts. Hope you're in with me ❤️

🧰 Author's note: Life really got in the way of this series, besties, but I came out alive. I'm really happy so many of you are as engaged with this story as I am, I love them so much. I just want a domestic, fluffy, soft Joel for myself 😩🤧

Good reading, besties 🩷🫶🏻

'You're always up with the sun.'

Bill's sentence made Joel sleep with his curtains open that night. Even with all the reasons why his mind told him he shouldn't pursue you, even with the potential death trap he was jumping into.

He couldn't not think about you. He couldn't not want to be with you.

He couldn't treat you like he felt he needed to. Couldn't dismiss you or break your heart. He had to make this experience as good as he could for you. It was only fair.

He would feel horrible if you never wanted to meet anyone else ever again because an old man made you cry.

So even with all the reasons he had to just forget about your and leave Lincoln the next day, he chose to keep his curtains open instead. To let the sun wake him up, so he could see you first thing in the morning.

He remembered the day he arrived, when Bill was showing him his bedroom and he saw you hugging Frank on your bed. Your grumpy and sleepy face, your messy hair, your clothes.

It made him smile again, and this time he allowed himself to. He let the feeling that was blooming inside his chest to make its point, to show him that there was an option outside of the QZ. That maybe he could stay.

Could stay with you.

Sure, making Bill lower his guard shouldn't be easy. But he could work on that; show him that he didn't want anything wrong or inappropriate with you.

That he wanted to take care of you like you deserve. Care for you like you're his.

Have you as his.

As the sunlight filled his room, he woke up and washed his face, staring at his own reflection in the mirror, last night memories floating around his mind.

He could almost feel you again, your warmth against his chest, as your body contorted and you made such pretty sounds for him. Then your soft hands stroking him, curiously roaming over his stomach and chest, how good it felt to be so close to someone again.

Not that him and Tess had ever stoped to have sex. They still did it, but not as a way to share anything, not to feel anything. Rather as a way to dismiss the bad feelings they had. They just dumped all the negativity of their lives into one another.

With you he didn't want to release anything. He wanted to gather everything he could from you, to make you feel as good as he could, without thinking about what he'd get from it.

He wanted to know you were happy, satisfied, taken care of.

He shook the thoughts as he felt them placing roots all over his heart, knowing that when the day arrived and he had to leave Lincoln, you'd be the main pebble on his shoe.

Halfway down the stairs he could already smell breakfast being prepared. He had peeked in your room, and, having not found you, he knew you'd probably be the one in the kitchen.

And he was right. As he gets close to the door, he can hear you humming one of the songs you played on the piano the previous night.

The image of himself playing a guitar while you played the piano flashed in his mind again, making his eyes soften as he looks at you.

You're wearing yet another summer dress. One even prettier than the one from the day he arrived.

He swears you look prettier everyday.

You turn around, jumping when you see him watching you from the door frame.

"Oh — God." You gasp with a laugh, almost dropping the pan in your hand.

"Morning." He says, laughing.

"Morning... Joel." You say, your voice small. Suddenly, you can feel your cheeks warm up, and it feels like all the blood in your veins came to them.

You stare at him, remembering the night before. How he touched you — or how he made you touch yourself. How you touched him, how almost ethereal the whole experience felt.

Part of you was afraid to bring it up and learn it was all a dream.

All of you was embarrassed, awkwardly standing with a pan in your hand, staring at him, not knowing how to interact with him after the night before.

You take a sharp breath in when he rushes towards you, getting confused when he walks past you, turning around to find him quickly removing a pan out of the stove.

You put the pan in your hand down at the table and run to the one in his hand, your scrambled eggs burnt at the bottom.

"At least there's more texture to them now." He says with a laugh, and you look up at him, an embarrassed smile on your face. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"Yeah, I am. Just... Gonna have to switch pans now, and what's gonna be left of them isn't going to be enough for all of us, and this is gonna be horrible to wash, and—" Your rambling is cut by his soft and low whisper.

"Baby." He calls, and you look up, finding his eyes as soft as ever. "Not talking about the eggs." He says while staring into your eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm... Good. Different, in a way. I mean, I don't know how to talk to you, or not make this super awkward." You mutter.

"It's not awkward. Are you... Okay with what happened, or—"

"No, no. I'm fine! It's not like that, no. I... I loved it. I just... I just don't know how to... I don't know it just feels weird." You stutter, feeling like you're embarrassing yourself.

"A good weird, then?" He laughs.

"Yes, a good weird." You agree. "What about you?"

"Long time since I've felt this good, baby. Was just worried about you."

"No, I'm good. No need to worry." You say shyly. "Well, expect my breakfast is ruined." You laugh, and he stares you for a second.

"Ever heard of Chef Boyardee?"

"No." You respond laughing.

"Well, he's gonna save your breakfast. Let me just grab it real quick." He says, putting the pan down and rushing upstairs.

...

He comes back after a minute, two cans in his hands.

"I was afraid Boyardee was your alter ego." You say, reading the name on the can.

"I'd never dare to compare." He says, bringing his hand to his chest in a fake humble gesture.

He opens the cans, and you two start cooking together. He insists to wash the burnt pan, as long as you watch chef Boyardee up close as it heats up in the stove while you make some orange juice.

Bill stops on his tracks when he sees you two in the kitchen. Cooking, making juice, brewing coffee, talking and laughing.

He smiles seeing how happy you are, seeing maybe he didn't made the wrong decision when he let Joel in his house.

"Our baby's growing up. Weird to think about that, right? It was never a thought before." Frank whispers from behind him, hugging him and snuggling his chin on Bill's shoulder.

"She is my baby. And it ain't Joel that's gonna change that." He replies, caressing Frank's forearm.

"She's not ours, Bill. Maybe the day's coming when we need to let her go, make her life." He says.

"Well, she can make her life inside these fences. Definitely not with Jo—" His rant cut by your short lived scream.

"It's not burning!" You defend yourself.

"Not the ravioli!" Joel fake cries, laughing as you desperately stir the ravioli in the pan, smoke coming out of the sauce, almost catching on your face.

Bill walks into the kitchen, his always heavy steps even heavier to announce his presence.

"What happened?" He asks, his eyes wide when he sees you close to the smoke.

"Oh, daddy... Joel's a disaster in the kitchen." You laugh.

"I was just washing the pan, you were supposed to watch the stove!" Joel defends himself, laughing, lifting the pan to show it to you. "If you didn't burn this one we wouldn't be going through all this right now."

You've never seen Joel laughing like this, and happiness looked good on him. You liked how his nose scrunched when he laughed and how tiny his eyes got.

He honestly couldn't remember the last time he allowed himself to goof around, make jokes and just have fun.

"It's your fault! I never want you in the kitchen with me again." You say.

"Oh, you're finishing this?" He mentions the pan in his hand.

"No no no, that was your fault. You clean it." You say, turning back to your dad. "Sorry, daddy. Good morning, are you okay?" You ask, going to Bill and wrapping him in a tight hug that he's eager to correspond.

"Morning, my love." He whispers on top of your head as he squeezes you, his hand holding the back of your head protectively. His suspicious stare watching Joel.

"We're having canned ravioli for breakfast?" Frank asks laughing, slightly grossed out.

"Chef Boyardee." Joel playfully corrects him.

"We were gonna have scrambled eggs, but Joel burned them." You say and Joel laughs in defeat, shooting you a playful look. "So yeah, canned ravioli. Promise I'll cook us something nicer for lunch." You say, hugging Frank and kissing his cheek. "Morning, dad."

...

Your dads sit across from one another. You're across from Joel, your right foot is between his feet and he's running his boots lazily up and down your ankles. You can't stop smiling because of it.

"So, Joel. I was thinking we could start with the east side and work towards the gates?" Bill asks, breaking the comfortable silence — only broken before to compliment Chef Boyardee — that was set while you all ate.

"Sure. Just have some other thing l have to work on before the fence, if that's okay? We're still gonna have plenty of sunlight when I'm done. Should be quick." He says while still chewing, stuffing back his mouth right after he's finished.

"What other thing?" Bill asks, not remembering asking Joel to fix anything else that day.

"She told me about these broken doors on her bathroom cabinet. Said they're loud and don't close properly." He says, looking at you, his feet moving higher on your calves, soothing you.

"Baby, didn't I tell you I'd fix your cabinet?" Bill asks, angry to imagine Joel inside your bathroom, even angrier to imagine you going after someone else for help.

"You did. But you never fixed it. So I asked Joel and he said it should be quick." You shrug, playing along with Joel, his legs caressing yours in a reassuring way.

You didn't even know Joel was gonna fix something in your bathroom, you never told him anything about your cabinets.

Bill grunts, and Frank tries to soothe him with a sympathetic look.

You were the most important thing he had, and he didn't like the idea of you not needing him anymore.

"So, love, your dad and I were wondering, what do you think of a bonfire?" Frank asks, trying to dismiss the topic, and you smile.

"A bonfire?" You ask excited, your gaze going from Frank to Bill, and you catch a glimpse of Joel's smile on your way.

"Well, I have some spare wood, and we're gathering a bunch of things we don't need with all the fixings we're doing." Bill explains, looking at Joel, who nods. "Your dad just wanted to call it a bonfire." Bill finishes, looking at Frank, a fake annoyance in his face while he smiles at his husband.

"And you loved my idea, didn't you, honey?" Frank asks, trying to win his case.

"Oh, it sounds so fun." You giggle, and you can feel Joel squeezing your calves softly.

"A bonfire!" Frank says triumphantly. Eating another spoonful of ravioli. "This is actually really good, Joel!"

"Told you." Joel said laughing.

As soon as you're done eating Frank offers to wash the dishes and you and Joel go upstairs, Bill watching you both with concerned eyes.

...

"When did you see the doors were broken?" You ask when he walks in your room with a chest of tools, following him into your bathroom.

"When, baby?" He asks with a laugh, raising one eyebrow. Like you didn't know he was in your bathroom the night before. Like you don't remember having him in your arms, hoping that one day he'd be yours.

"No, I know when. I just mean exactly when. I never told you about it." You say, sitting on top of your toilet to watch him work.

"When I was looking for a product to clean the sink. This door made a terrible sound." He explains.

You watch as he kneels on the floor and starts unscrewing the door, cleaning and oiling its parts before screwing them back together.

"So, how's life in the QZ?" You ask when he starts working.

"Not much about it, nothing you're missing out on, for sure."

"Then why are you still living there?" You ask and he looks up at you, the crease between his eyebrows and the way his eyes wander around showing you he doesn't have a clear answer for that question.

"Not that simple, baby." He scrunches his nose. "Told your dad, we've got things there that you don't have here. Things we — grunts — need."

You smile seeing his face contort as he has to use more force to unscrew a particularly rusty part. You notice his arms flexing under his denim shirt, how strong his hands look, making his tools seem small in them. How he grunts when he makes a final effort to remove the screw.

Your heartbeat speeds up before you can stop it, and you only notice that he's staring at you when you hear him chuckle.

"And do they just give you those things? My dads say they used to have to work to gain money, and they'd trade money for things they wanted." You ask, trying to dismiss the blood burning your cheeks.

"Wasn't Frank in a QZ for a long time?" He asks.

"He was. But he doesn't like talking about it. Says I don't need to know about it." You respond. Even though Frank was way more laid back than Bill, he also had his ways to guard you from things he thought he needed to. "But I want to know about it." You add, seeing Joel's reluctancy in keep telling you about it.

"We also work there, not for money, but it's still a trade system. We can get food, medicine, parts, clothes. Whatever we need."

"Do you have nice clothes there?" You ask with more excitement than you wished to. You know it's futile, but you sometimes wish you had different clothes to wear. He chuckles before answering.

"I mean..." He mentions himself, and you turn your head.

"I think you look good." You say honestly and he smiles.

"Your clothes are much prettier than the ones there, baby. You're not missing out."

"You like my clothes?" You ask, your voice small.

"Love them. Never saw no one dress like you since this whole thing started." He whispers, sitting back on his heels and watching you with adoring eyes.

You look out the bathroom door, your bedroom door closed. No noise outside.

You bend down, kissing him softly on the lips. His left hand caresses the nape of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

"Wanna help me choose my dress for the bonfire?" You suggest when you break the kiss.

"My honor." He whispers over your lips, giving them a peck and letting you go.

...

You come back inside the bathroom with two dresses, both on their hangers.

"Okay, so we'll go by elimination. What do you think of these?" You ask, holding each dress in a hand. He's kneeled on the floor, fixing the cabinet, but he turns his torso, carefully analyzing the dresses over his shoulder.

"Blue one." He says.

"Yeah. This one's a bit too summery, too sunny." You agree, and he raises his eyebrows, nodding and humming before turning back to the cabinet.

"And what kind of jobs you do there?" You ask Joel while going back to your closet, picking the next option.

"All kinds you don't wanna know about, trust me. There's nothing about that place that's worth knowing, nothing good except those walls." He says.

You come back with the winner dress and another option, sitting on your bathtub's edge.

"Well, not when you're in it. Then there's at least one good thing." You say low with a smile, poking him with your foot, and you can see the shy smile that flashes in his face as he quickly squeezes your calves.

"Tess and I we... Leave the QZ from time to time, which you're not supposed to do, to look for things we can trade for other things. Not always for nice things, but we can always trade them again for something better."

"You're smugglers." Frank says out thin air, startling you. "Which isn't bad, I mean, the best stuff I had at the QZ came from smugglers." He adds seeing Joel's worried expression. "Tess told me about it. Told me about the kind of things you two give to guards. Not anything we need here, but maybe you'd know where to find some things for us?" He asks.

"Yeah, sure. Depending on what it is, it shouldn't be hard to find." Joel says.

"Oh! We were talking about having more fruits, right, dad? Strawberries, watermelons. Think you could find some, Joel?"

"Would have to look around, but it's not impossible." He says, making a mental note of finding you those as soon as he has the chance.

The thought of leaving Lincoln to look for things you want plays in the back of his mind, the scenario making him smile softly while looking at you.

"Speaking of Tess..." Frank interrupts his daydreams. "...she's on the radio. Wants to talk to you, seems important. She asked you to bring a pen and paper with you." He finally says what he came in to say.

Joel looks at you, a deep crease between his eyebrows, despite his overall relaxed expression. If you're really starting to know him, the crease means he's worried.

He gets up with a muted grunt.

"Oh, Joel! Which one?" You ask before he leaves.

He looks back and forth between the dresses, pressing his lips, trying to picture you in both of them. He likes how tight on top the blue one looks like, how flowy it looks on the legs.

"Blue again." He answers with a smile. "Be right back." He says directly to you before turning around, walking out the bathroom and thanking your dad for calling him.

Frank sits by your side, carefully walking around Joel's tools.

"What do you think of the blue one?" You ask him, caressing the dress.

"Hm, thought you wouldn't want my opinion." He says almost bitterly, despite his playful smile.

"Why? You always help me choose my dresses." You say, furrowing your eyebrows, his expression softening.

Deep down he felt the same as Bill.

You always needed them, always looked for them for guidance, advice, help, comfort, love. It hurt to think of you not needing them anymore, of losing you.

"Nothing." He says quietly.

"Are you upset because I asked for Joel's opinion?" You ask, and he realizes just how silly the feeling is. You're just picking a dress.

"Well I... Argh, I am, love. Can't lie to you." He hugs your side, squeezing your head on his chest playfully. "You don't need my help anymore, you're not my baby anymore." He says dramatically, making you laugh.

"Oh, no! I don't love you anymore, dude. Let go of me!" You playfully say, acting like you're trying to get away from him but ultimately snuggling even closer to his chest.

"I love you. I'll always asks for your opinions on my dresses." You laugh.

"Well, to be fair. The blue one is the prettiest between those two." He admits. "How are things between the two of you?"

"Great. He's so nice." You say with a silly smile.

"Can tell you look happier. And so does he. Never seen him laugh like I saw this morning." He says.

You remember his face when he arrived. Serious and suspicious of everything about the town. How you only saw him smile three times that day; when you two met, when you said you were going to bed and when he saw you with Frank.

But as soon as you think about that day your chest tightens.

Tess.

She came with him. For some reason didn't stay. Was she looking for something while he was there, or did she return to the QZ? Was she coming over? She said she and Joel were just friends, but what if they weren't?

You whimper softly, your stomach hurting out of a sudden.

"You okay, love?" Frank asks, pulling away to look at your face.

"Yeah, just... Do you know what Tess wants with Joel?"

"She didn't say, love. Maybe she just wants to know why he didn't go back to the QZ yet."

"Wasn't he going to stay here for a while? To help you and dad?" You ask, confused.

"Well, yes. But she didn't know that. He was supposed to leave yesterday." He said, caressing your arm with his thumb. "But he kept finding reasons to stick around. New things that need fixing, the car's weird noise, now the whole fence. I wonder what — or who — made him want to stay." He squeezes your arm and you smile shyly.

"But why does she care?" You ask, an unexpected annoyance in your voice.

"Darling... Joel and Tess they... They used to be a couple." He says, careful, like he could see his words stabbing you. "She cares about him. She's worried, she doesn't know us, maybe something could've happened to him."

"Do you think he cares about her too?" You know it's a stupid question. Of course he does. It's Joel.

But it hurts to imagine him doing to her the same he did to you. Sharing the same.

Frank gives you a sympathetic look, his eyes softening and his lips falling open, like he's thinking of what to tell you.

"Do you think I'm silly, dad? Do you think he's just gonna leave and never come back?" You ask, thinking about what him and Tess must be talking about.

"I don't know, love. I heard him and dad talk about some of the houses in here." He sighs.

Should he even be telling you that?

'Is he thinking about staying?' You ask yourself, your puppy eyes making Frank kiss your forehead lovingly.

"Only he can tell you that, my dove."

Sometimes you think your dad can read your mind.

You think about what Joel told you.

'We've got things there that you don't have here.'

Could he ever not live in the QZ? Would he ever want that?

"But can I give you an advice?" He asks softly and you nod. You're taking any help you can. "Slow down a bit. Don't think too ahead, don't nourish any hopes or fears about what's gonna happen." He says, looking deeply into your eyes. "Joel has his life outside, you can't forget that. I really, really, my love, hope you don't come out hurt of all of this. And the only way for it not to happen is you being careful. Don't engage in feelings he hasn't displayed to you."

"Don't create expectations then?" You ask, trying to make sense of his words.

"Yes, sweetheart. Feel your feelings, but don't ever run over them. Don't expect what you want to happen to turn out exactly how you wish." He adds. "Like about him staying. Don't expect it but also don't suffer thinking it's impossible before he tells you exactly what he's thinking. Don't put yourself through unnecessary pain."

Before you can say anything else Joel walks back in, a mix of annoyance and worry contorting his face, that softens instantly as his eyes find you.

"Blue one?" He asks with a silly smile and you nod, an even sillier one in your face.

"Blue one."

...

It's hard to follow your dad's advice.

Because it hurts too much to think of not seeing him anymore.

And that's exactly what you do for the rest of the day.

You watch him fix the fences with your dads while you hurt your own feelings, thinking about him leaving, about him with Tess, about him doing to her what he did to you. What you only did with him.

It hurts to think maybe he doesn't care about you the same way you care about him. Because you can't stop thinking about him. You're more attached than you ever thought you'd be to anyone besides your parents.

It hurts to think about him leaving you...

...forgetting about you.

He noticed how quiet you were during dinner — it was quite hard not to. And he found strange just how much he missed you, even though you were right in front of him.

How you didn't make any silly jokes or laughed at the ones your dads made. How you didn't give him your leg when he reached for it under the table, like he did during breakfast. How you wouldn't catch his gaze when he looked at you.

He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger in exactly what happened.

After dinner you kissed your dads goodnight and went straight to bed, no piano, no songs, no anything, despite their protests.

Maybe something happened while he was fixing the fences with Bill. He hadn't seen you since he left your bathroom.

"Is something wrong with her?" He asks your dads as soon as you go upstairs. They both shrug, and Bill can't help but wonder... Why does he even care?

You brush your teeth and lie on your bed, throwing a pitty party for yourself, feeling silly for engaging in such unrealistic expectations.

Joel had his life in the QZ...

...with Tess.

He wouldn't just give everything up for you, to stay in Lincoln.

It's hard to follow what Frank told you, to not feel bad, to ignore the discomfort in your stomach everytime you thought about Joel.

You quiet your thoughts when he opens your bedroom door — that you never seem to lock anymore —, finding you laying on your bed, almost curled in a ball, your back facing the door. Trying to keep your eyes dry.

He walks in carefully to not startle you, going around the bed to see if you're awake.

Your eyes start watering as soon as you see him.

"Hey, baby." He says softly, squatting next to you, keeping his distance. "What happened?" He didn't need you to say you weren't okay, he already knew that. He just needed to know what got you like that.

You don't say anything, aware that any words you said would make you cry.

"Can I sit with you?" He whispers, still not touching you.

You nod, moving your hips back to give him room to sit. You knew that no matter how much you tried to stay away, you'd feel him pulling you close, like there's a magnetic field between you two.

He sits down in front of your stomach and you pull your thighs closer to his back, keeping him close to you.

He moves his hand slowly, giving you time to push him away, gently touching your hair, pulling it behind your ear.

"Do you wanna talk?" He asks, his voice softer than ever.

"Do you?"

"I want to do whatever you want, baby." He whispers, caressing your hair, almost making you sleepy.

"I want you to stay with me."

"I can stay until you fall asleep. But I can't sleep here with you." He responds.

Not the stay you were thinking about. But it works for now, and you're glad he didn't pick up on it.

"Can you lie with me?" You ask shyly.

You weren't mad at him. You were just afraid to get too attached — even more than you already were, and to suffer too much when he left.

But you can't deny yourself what you're craving.

"Anything you want, baby." He leans down to press a kiss on your temple, bringing his hand to your hips, squeezing you gently and turning you around, your back facing him.

"Is this okay?" He asks, laying down sideways behind you, staying away and not touching you.

"Uhum."

He supports himself on his elbow and strokes your hair gently.

"Are you cold?" He asks, touching your cold arm, and you nod. He sits up and grabs your blanket by the end of your bed, covering you with it and supporting himself back on his elbow.

He's far from you, and you scoot back closer to him, pulling the blanket that's pooling between you two over him.

"Wearing my shoes, baby." He says, afraid of getting your blanket dirty. He kicks his boots away and and moves his body closer to yours.

Dropping his head on the pillow behind you, he slides his left arm underneath your head, letting you use it as a pillow. He hugs you and curl his legs, curling yours along. Fully spooning you.

In a way it reminded you of when you were a child and your dads would let you sleep in between them during a thunderstorm. How the same feeling of calm and safety takes over you.

You do your best to snuggle into him and find comfort in the new position, eventually relaxing into his arms as his right hand comes underneath your face, cupping your left cheek, pillowing it. You snuggle your face on his hand, kissing his palm gently.

You indulge in the intimacy you two are sharing. In how warm you got because of him, how his calloused hand feels under your cheek, how your bodies seem to fit in perfectly within one another.

How you can subtly feel his heartbeat against your back, how you try to match your breathing with his, enjoying the way his chest raises and falls behind you. How his smell invades your nose, how his hot breath sends chills down your spine, how his strong arms hold you so tight.

You stay tangled for a while before you gather the courage to talk to him.

"Joel?" You ask gently and he hums in response. "Can I ask you something... about Tess?" You almost whisper, afraid of ruining everything.

"Sure, baby. What about her?" He responds, his thumb caressing the skin under your eye.

"Are you two dating?" You ask but regret instantly as you feel him chuckle behind you.

He gives your face a light squeeze before turning it for you to look at him. You feel vulnerable with him being so overpowering, moving you so effortlessly, his body engulfing yours so nicely...

"Is it because she called me earlier?" He asks, a smile on his face as he brings you back to reality. You only nod, not sustaining his gaze anymore. "Do you think I'd be here with you if we were together? Think I'd do this to her? To you? Lie to you like that?"

"I don't know." You whisper, hating how weak your voice sounds, barely making its way out of your mouth.

"Baby, Tess and I we... We were a couple, haven't been for a long while now." He explains, sincerity spread all over his face.

"Did you do to her what we did last night?" You ask, your stomach turning to imagine him doing that to someone else.

Realistically, you knew he had. But it still hurt to think about it.

"No, baby. Not what we did yesterday. That I never did to nobody." He answers and you look away from his soft eyes. "I'm not lying." He squeezes your cheek gently, making you look back at him. "Yesterday it was all about you, making you feel good. And sex with Tess was about releasing frustrations, sadness, anger. Distracting myself." He explains. "I'd never dump those negative feelings on you. I wanna make you feel good, wanna see and hear you feel good. I loved doing it, but it wasn't about me. It was all about you." He says softly, his eyes wandering from your eyes to your lips.

It feels like you're melting in his arms. His words disarming you entirely, making you want to feel him again. To share that again.

"Can you kiss me?" You ask, hope coating your request.

"Anything you want, angel." He whispers as he lowers himself, gently connecting his lips to yours.

The tingling of his beard on your face makes you lean in further onto him, pulling him lower on top of you as you lie back down.

You open your mouth, kissing his lower lip, making him deepen the kiss, rolling his tongue around yours, and gently grabbing a fistful of your hair.

His tongue tangling with yours make your insides burn with need, and your hips instinctively roll against his crotch, making you moan when you feel his still soft cock inside his pants. His hand comes from your hair to your waist, holding you still.

"Baby." His voice sound deep and aroused as he breaks the kiss, softly panting as he talks to you. "We don't have to do anything. We can go slow, slower than we're going. I'd love to just lie down with you tonight." He stares softly at you, his thumb caressing your belly.

"I want you, Joel. Want to feel you before you leave." You say, cursing at yourself when you realize what you've just said.

"Not going anywhere, baby." He promises, furrowing his brows before kissing you again, deeper and more passionately, making you moan into his mouth, his hand exploring your curves and your stomach, its roughness erupting chills on its tracks.

You can't stop your hand from reaching for him when he grabs one of your breasts, gently massaging it through your shirt. He pulls back when you touch his crotch.

"You first, angel." He says, removing your hand and kissing your neck. Then your shoulder, your collarbone. His hand softly pulls on the hem your shirt.

"Can I?" You respond by removing it, laying back down, your back still facing him, your hand reaching back for his hair, running your fingers through it.

His hand finds your breasts again, kneading them before he lifts himself behind you, sliding underneath your right arm to place ghostly kisses first around them, circling his way closer to your nipple, looking into your eyes for any reluctancy before he moves any further.

Not finding any and feeling how you pulled gently on his curls, he licks around your nipple once, still looking into your eyes. When you moan, he takes it in his mouth, humming at its softness. You whimper at how his beard scratches your skin.

The new and soft sensation of his tongue on you makes your clit burn between your legs, that you're pressing against one another, looking for some release for the almost painful need you're feeling.

He squeezes your hips, gently at first, but more and more firmly as you pull on his hair, his lips sucking tightly around your nipple, opening and closing around it, like he's trying to drink from it.

"More, Joel. Please." You whimper, your head spinning as you drown in simultaneous under and over stimulation.

"Want me to touch you, baby? Wanna feel my fingers on you?" He asks, letting go of your nipple, his voice breathy and raspy, and you whimper in response. "Would love to feel you, baby. Know you're so wet for me already. Wanna make you cum on my fingers." He says while tracing kisses from your breast to the back of your shoulder.

"Yes, please. Yes, Joel." You say eagerly, desperately almost. Making him laugh amusedly and spread your legs, pulling your right one over his hips. Slowly running his hand from your hip to your mount, the mere warmth of his hand making you grind against it.

"So desperate, baby. Gonna take my time, make you feel so good." He pants on your neck, lowering his hand even more, drawing soft circles around your clothed clit, earning weak whimpers and moans from you. "Let's take this off." He says, pulling on your pijama shorts, and you lift your hips to help him.

He pulls your leg back over his hips and caresses you through your panties for a bit, running his middle and index fingers up and down your folds, teasing at your entrance, softly pressing on it.

He palms your folds, gently squeezing your pussy. "So good, baby." He praises, his lips never leaving your neck. He runs his fingers of the elastic of your panties, playing with it. "Is this okay?" He asks, his fingers carefully sliding underneath them.

Your moan is enough of a green light.

His rough fingers make their way under your underwear, ghosting over your mount, then your folds. Finally finding the crease between them, gently touching your clit before spreading your folds, groaning when he feels how wet you are.

"Dripping already, baby. We haven't even started yet." He teases, nibbling at your ear and making you giggle. He laughs behind you. "Goddammit, baby, I..."

He stops himself with a grunt before he says too much, before he lets out something he's been pondering on, a feeling he's not managing to prune as it grows roots inside him.

He circles your clit again, just his middle finger rolling lazily over it. He uncovers it from the skin on top of it, making your whole core burn for him, the rough textured of his fingers on such a sensitive spot making you pull away with a whine.

"Sorry, baby. Too much?" He asks, kissing your shoulder, and you whimper in response, getting close to him again. "It's okay. We won't ever do anything that doesn't feel good."

He goes to your entrance and draws circles over it, slowly pushing the tip of his middle finger inside you.

"This okay?" Comes out in a whisper on your neck.

You love how he's always making sure you're enjoying what he's doing. Always checking in on you.

"More, Joel." You manage to put out.

"Okay, but just one, alright? We can work on two later." He says and you nod. You just need something from him.

He french kisses and bites on your shoulder while he pushes in, your walls engulfing him. You moan when his finger goes fully inside you.

It's so much bigger than yours.

He groans as he spreads his palm over your pussy, squeezing it quickly before gently thrusting his finger in and out of you.

"You feel so good, baby. So tight around my finger." His breath fans on your neck, and you have to swallow back a loud moan when he curls his finger, just like he taught you last time, hitting an even deeper spot than you managed to.

"Shh, real quiet, angel." His thumb finds your clit and he caresses it lazily, his finger moving slowly against your walls, your hips moving to try and ease the burn.

You feel his erection against your ass and your hand looks for him, grabbing him through his pants, earning a grunt, moaning when you feel how hard he is.

"Wanna feel you cum like this, can you try that for me, baby?" He asks while he fasten his movements, each thrust deeper and faster, each curl tighter and each circle around your clit more desperate. His hips bumping against your hand while you try to work him.

"Joel." You moan softly when your body starts contorting around him, your core burning as your hips move against his hand. "Please, let me do it." You plead, struggling to open his belt with just one hand.

"Fuck." He curses while he lets go of you, desperately opening his belt and freeing himself. He helps you remove your panties before carefully pulling you back in his arms, spooning you. His left arm underneath your head as his right arm pulls your leg over his hips again, his cock pressing against your ass, his hips grinding against you.

You stroke him slowly, spreading his precum all over his length, giving a special attention to his tip.

Just like he taught you. His grunts a sign you've learned just right.

His hands return their work, one on your pussy while the other alternates between caressing your hair and kneading your breasts, and you can feel his strong arm contracting underneath your face as he moves.

He notices your hand around him and your breathing both getting more erratic, an almost painful look in your face.

"Relax, cum for me, baby, let me feel you. I'm right here, I've got you, just let it come." He coos, and you twist your hand around him, making him thrust into it.

Being so close, so tangled, so vulnerable with him overtakes you, and your orgasm builds like a wave, slow and steady before crashing against your core, making you forget everything that wasn't Joel.

His smell, his warmth, his hot breath on your neck, his sounds, his rough fingers, his hardness.

You bite his arm that's under your head in an attempt to quiet yourself as he engulfs you with it, holding you tight and close to him, whispering praises and curses on your ear, thrusting slower and deeper into your hand.

"There we go. Feels so good around my finger, baby." He coos while you contort under his embrace.

He grunts as you probably squeeze his cock a bit too hard while you cum.

"Even prettier like this, my pretty girl." He praises as he pulls out of you, your arousal leaking all over your leg and butt.

"Making such a pretty mess for me, baby, look at this. You're gonna feel so good around me, angel." He thrusts into your hand again and shows you his finger, glistening and wrinkled from being inside you for so long, coated in your juices.

He sucks on it, furrowing his brows and humming at your taste, an amused smile on his face. His hips buck forward while he laughs, looking adoringly down at you.

"Taste so, so good, my baby, goddammit." He pants, and you wanna see him do it again, so you let go of him and gather some of your juices, bringing your fingers to his mouth.

He's quick to suck around them, rolling his tongue around your fingers and giving you a peck on the lips.

He thrusts forward again and his cock slides against your folds, making you both moan. "Hmm. Thank you, angel." He smiles on your lips, spraying kisses on your collarbone and your throat, his hips moving at a slow pace, savoring how you feel against his cock.

"So soft. So wet for me." He praises, hugging you, squeezing your waist and your breasts, moving his hips with more intent. Your belly clenching when his tip brushes against your sensitive clit.

"You like this, baby? Does it feel good? Feels real good to me." He breathes on your hair, his voice deep and raspy.

His right hand comes back underneath your face, and you snuggle against it, weakly bitting his palm and indulging on its texture against your skin.

It all feels amazing. The contrast between his rough, calloused hands and his soft, wet and warm cock rubbing against your pussy making you see stars. He feels so, so good.

"Feels so good, Joel." You moan.

"Close your legs real tight for me then, baby." He instructs and you do, pressing your thighs together, feeling his cock pulse between your legs. "There you go, good girl. Making me feel so good, baby." He says as he picks up his pace.

He fucks your folds for a while, grunting and moaning behind you as his cock opens it's way through them, spreading them and brushing his tip against your clit. The way his strong arms keep you close to him make you start rolling your hips instinctively against his cock.

He changes his pace to meet your hips, setting a passionate and deep rhythm, and you can hear the wet sound of your bodies pleasing one another when you move just slightly harder.

When you start to really enjoy yourself he suddenly stops, laying you on your back and climbing on top of you. He spreads your legs, making room for his broad frames between them.

He looks so big, so strong above you. You run your hands on his arms, frustrated that he's still fully clothed while you're so exposed for him.

Not that he makes you feel bad like this. No... It feels actually strangely good to be fully naked under a fully clothed Joel Miller.

He notices you mesmerized by him and just stand above you, kneeled between your legs, admiring your own exposed body.

To think that he did everything he's done to you without having to remove a single piece of his clothing is impressive.

But you need more, you want to see him, to feel his skin against yours. If feeling his hands and his mouth feels good, you know you're gonna be lost when you feel his bare chest and stomach burning your skin.

You undo the first button on his flannel, and he laughs.

"You look so sweet, so pretty, my baby." He praises, fixing your hair and leaning down to kiss first your cheek — right besides your nose, under your eye — , then another one on your lips. A sweet and lovingly kiss. You use the proximity to finish undoing his flannel, moaning frustrated when you notice the shirt underneath it.

You pull on it's hem, and thankfully he doesn't protest, just standing on his knees and letting you remove it.

You moan when you lie back down and look at him. He wonders if he's wrong when he sees the way you look at him.

As he got older and older people seemed to want to see his naked figure less and less. And to have you looking at him like that... Set a whole new branch of roots inside his heart.

You run your hands up his sides and his chest, and he closes his eyes at the feeling of your warm and soft hands. It's been a long, long time since he felt like this. You cup his cheeks and he lowers himself on top of you.

Having him on top of you is everything you hoped it'd be.

He's soft, warm and heavy.

So deliciously heavy.

You moan at the feeling and he holds himself higher, afraid to hurt you, but you pull him back, even lower, needing his weight to crush you.

You can't even breath properly, and you love it.

You wrap your arms around him, running your hands on his back and squeezing his shoulder blades. He does the same, his arms snaking underneath you, holding you like he was afraid you could ever think of going away from him.

If it was up to you, you'd never leave this bed again, this position, this man. Every kiss he places on your neck makes you roll your hips and squeeze him between your thighs.

He lifts himself a little and guides his cock between your folds again, spreading them apart and thrusting through them, pressing his cock against you with his thumb.

"Fuck." He pants as he slides his tip over your entrance. "Can't wait to be inside you, baby. Never gonna leave you again." He says, biting your jaw softly.

The promise makes its way to your heart, the thought of belonging to him, being with him, taking care of him and being taken care of consumes you, making you roll your hips on him.

"Please Joel. I'm ready, I want to." You plead, holding his arms.

He laughs.

"No, baby. You may be, but she's not. Look at this." He says as he presses his tip on your entrance, making you clench instinctively at the invasion and whine in pain. "You need to learn how to relax for me. Need to get used to being close to me like this. I need you to be sure about it." He says as he kisses your hand that's squeezing his shoulder.

"I am, I want you." You say, feeling as he slides the very tip of his tip inside you, grunting at how tight you feel around him. He thrusts slowly, just the tip going in and out of you.

And you have to give it to him... It feels like a lot. Even just his tip requires a considerable stretch, and the thought of having him almost carving your insides to make room for himself makes you clench around him.

"Shit — grunts — fuck, baby. See? She needs more time, I don't wanna hurt you." He says as he lowers himself to press a sweet kiss on your cheek, right besides your nose, pulling his tip out of you and sliding his cock through your folds again.

You moan when you feel his now much wetter tip brush against your clit.

He pulls your left leg up, bringing your knee close to your chest, caressing your thighs, not stoping his movements. You whimper as his weight sinks you down onto the mattress, and you wrap your arms around him, digging your nails on his shoulders, pulling away when he grunts from it.

"Sorry." You moan, afraid you've hurt him.

"No, baby. C'mon, squeeze me, it means you're liking it." He reassures you, thrusting slower and harder, pressing his hips deeper on top of you and bringing your other leg up.

"I wanna see it, Joel." You breath, holding firmly into his shoulders, your brows furrowed as you push him away, looking down where your bodies are connected.

"Yeah, baby? I love seeing it too. You look so pretty all spread for me like this, all ready and wet for me." He pants, touching his forehead to yours, looking down.

His hips get more erratic with every thrust, his hands supporting him up and squeezing you as he lowers himself on top of you again.

"Gonna make me cum, baby. But I wanna see you do it again, think you can do it for me?" He asks, his voice low.

"Yes." You moan, focusing on how good he feels rubbing against your core.

"There you are, such a good girl for me." He praises, kissing your neck, fastening his movements even more. "Gonna feel so good cumming under me, with my cock for the very first time, baby. Give it to me, c'mon." He says, moving your hair away from your face and cupping your cheeks.

The constant and relentless pace he sets along with his praises becomes too overwhelming, and you bite his shoulder to not scream when you cum, clenching and convulsing around air. Crying out in pleasure, droll dripping down his shoulder, tears running down your cheeks.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. I know it feels so good, doesn't it?" He coos.

His hand that was on your cheek now supports your head up against him, caressing your hair softly, soothing you.

"Goddammit, baby. Can feel you pulsing on me." He says, staring down, watching himself slide through your dripping folds.

You only moan in response, letting go of his shoulder and kissing the deep mark your teeth left on it.

"Gonna cum for you, baby. You did so well for me, such a good — grunts — fucking girl. My... All mine." He stutters, not being able to form comprehensive sentences anymore. "Can't do it like this, no. Fucking can't." He pants before dropping to your side, stroking himself deep and fast.

You watch his strong torso as it raises and falls heavily, curses and senseless words falling from his lips.

But when he calls you... By your name, a breathy and passionate moan... You can't help it.

You reach for him, wrapping your hand around him.

"Fuck, just like last time, baby." He instructs before running his fingers through your hair and caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Such a pretty girl. I'm so fucking — grunts — lucky, angel."

His praise makes you fasten your movements, twisting your wrist around him and rolling your hand around his tip.

"Joel?" You call and he groans in response, looking at you. "Can I put it in my mouth this time?" You ask, using that goddamn voice to try and convince him.

"Jesus — no, baby. No mouth." He pants, fighting the words as they leave his mouth.

God, he loves how much you want to suck his cock. He fucking loves it.

You tighten your grip when you feel him pulse, craving more of the sensation.

"Shit — fuck. Like that, baby. Gonna make me cum for you."

When you feel him twitch and you see the first stream of cum spurt out his his tip...

...you forget everything he told you. You notice his eyes closed shut and lower yourself, opening your mouth in front of his tip, drawing a circle around his tip with your tongue.

He doesn't taste as bad as you remembered.

His hips immediately buck into your face, a gutural sound leaving his throat.

"I said no — grunts — fucking mouth, baby. Goddammit." He says, his hips thrusting up, his hand fisting your hair, but not pulling you away.

You keep licking around his tip while he cums, leaking into your mouth and your hand. You don't keep anything in your mouth, letting it all fall down on your hand and his crotch.

You look up at him and find his eyes on you. Instead of feeling shy, though, you smile, sucking around his tip for the first time, and he spurts one last time inside your mouth with a grunt.

"Fuck, baby. Felt so fucking good." He says when you feel him start softening in your hand. He fixes your hair lazily while you lick your lips, drinking what was dripping down your chin. "Doesn't taste gross anymore?" He teases, seeing how focused you are in drinking every drop of him that's on your face.

"Tastes better directly from you." You lie, only taking it into your mouth because you like how he looks at you when you do so, holding back a bitter expression when you taste more and more of his cum.

Although you have to admit... It does taste better than last time.

"Come up here, angel." He calls, pulling you on top of his chest. "You okay?" He asks while looking deep into your eyes.

You nod. Okay is nothing compared to how you feel right now.

You feel like you're floating, like you're in a transe, like jelly.

You kiss his chest, snuggling your face on him.

"Are you feeling better?" He whispers on top of your head, his hot breath on your hair.

"I feel so good, Joel."

"You do? And you're not gonna thank me, baby? I thought you had better manners than that." He teases, laughing softly underneath you, your body going up and down along with his chest.

"Thank you, Joel. Thank you too." You lightly tap his softening cock.

He laughs. There's the sillyness he missed during dinner.

The playfulness he knows he'll miss the most when he leaves you.

If he ever manages to leave you.

"Our honor, baby." He squeezes you tighter and kisses your forehead. You wrap your arms around him, feeling sleepy already.

When he feels you soften on top of him and your breathing get softer, he softly scratches your head.

"Hey, baby. Can't sleep like this. Gotta clean you up." He whispers, rolling you on the bed, on your back, and kissing your pout with a smile before going to your bathroom.

You admire his naked figure. His strong back, his broad — so broad — shoulders, his strong legs. He looks like a sculpture, like a God, almost.

And you'd be lying if you said you couldn't describe what you feel for him as almost devotion.

Your blasphemies are cut when he walks back in, already clean, with a cloth in hands. He climbs on top of the bed and spread your legs, caressing your thighs.

"So pretty." He praises when he cleans you, softly to not hurt you. Laughing when the cloth touches your clit and your body jerks up.

He finishes and kisses your belly, right above your mount, going lower and pressing a kiss on your folds.

"Joel." You moan.

"Sorry, baby. Don't wanna make a mess again." He teases you, lifting himself.

"Can you do it? Put your mouth on her?" You ask, a new spark of arousal hitting you at the thought of his warm mouth on you.

"Can't wait to, baby. But not today. No. Now the only thing you're gonna do is sleep." He puts his pants and his shirt back on before grabbing your panties and your shirt.

He dresses you back up and lie down behind you, spooning you again, his right hand coming underneath your cheek, pillowing it.

You moan at how good it feels to be so close to him. At how vulnerable you can be with him, knowing he won't move one finger unless you're okay with it.

You fall asleep faster than any other night since he arrived, only waking up for a slip second when you feel him carefully letting go of you. And you feel colder, but you know he can't sleep with you.

He presses a kiss to your temple, whispering something muffled before leaving your bedroom.

...

When he lies on his bed he seals his fate. He can't stay way from you. He doesn't want to.

The whisper on your cheeks more a confession to himself than to you.

"I think I love you."

It reverberates in his chest, a feeling he thought could never bloom again in his infertile heart. A feeling only you could sow on him.

Please, please let me know what you think about it. I love reading your thoughts, reblogs, asks and comments on this series 🩷

Hope you liked it, have a wonderful day, besties 🩷🫶🏻

My Masterlist 🩷🪷

Been a long while since part two, so I'm tagging some people that seemed to really like this series so far 🫶🏻

@pedritoferg @cleopatra99 @samsamsantos @thecaptainpandabear @blooodmoonbarnes @yourwinchesterbros @walkintheprk @cruelfvkingsummer @laiisleitte

#joel miller x reader #ghostfanwriter #fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal characters #smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x virgin reader #dbf!joel miller x reader #dbf! joel miller #i just want domestical and soft joel #soft joel miller #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal's characters #joel miller writing #dirty hands

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