Preacher's daughter

Joel passes through your hometown and immediately recognises the look in your eyes. he offers to take you to Seattle with him, granting you a chance to change your life for the better. But it might also be the start of your self-inflicted downfall.
this series is strongly inspired by songs by Ethel Cain, more in vibes than in actual storyline of Preacher’s Daughter
it is not suited for minors and reading the warnings mindfully is necessary
this work can also be found on my Tumblr @buckysdreamcatcher

Chapter 1: So I hopped right in, outta luck to spend and at least your truck beats walking

Chapter Text

Austin, TE

The Texas sun seeped in through your skin and warmed you to the bone as you sat on the sidewalk. Not a single breeze of wind passed through the town. The fields had been as dry as bone since you could remember, the earth crumbling beneath every step and any grass that made it through May never saw June.

The street was quiet, empty. Not calm but forgotten. A car had passed through in the early morning but that had been hours ago, and you felt the skin on your shoulders slowly disintegrate under the UV-rays. It wouldn’t have surprised you to see steam curling up to the sky from your body if you had any sweat left to give.

It was brutally hot, yes. The sunburn on your nose would probably give you premature wrinkles and skin cancer. But it beat your childhood bedroom by miles. If you were to close your eyes you could imagine sitting on your twin sized bed, sun beams filtering in through the white lace curtains as they illuminated the cross above your headboard. But you didn’t want to be there, so you left your eyes wide open.

You didn’t know it then but the next thing you saw would either be your only chance at luck or your demise.
A truck rolled into the street. It was old but well cared for, with pollen clinging to the windows like fairy dust. The paint was a dark blue, not yet chipped but you could make it out a few scratches on the passenger door as the car passed you.

From your position – sitting on the curb, legs sprawled out in front of you and leaned back on your elbows – you could not see the driver. Your eyes followed the car and you stretched lightly to get a glance at the license plate – a Texas native.

Then the car stopped suddenly. Just in the middle of the road it came to a stop before it started to reverse slowly. You stayed unmoving as the driver backed up and then came to a halt in front of you.

The window on the passenger’s side was rolled down and a warm, masculine voice called out. His first mistake.

“Y’alright there, miss?”

His voice was gravelly. Hot. Texan. Just like the sun.
His face was still hidden in the safety of the car, but your curiosity was peaked.
So, you sat up, slow and deliberate, as if you had not a care in the world and then straightened up enough to look at the man behind the wheel.

You didn’t know his name then, but you wanted to.
Dark curls, peppered with grey at the temples, framed his face, a little tousled from driving with his window down.
His skin was sun kissed, and you found yourself wondering if he had any freckles, remnants of years working outside.
Within milliseconds you had decided you already knew everything about him that you needed.

1) He was a father – the care in his voice was indistinguishable as he asked you.
2) He was not too far from home. His accent was so similar to the one you had grown up with.
3) He was shamelessly good-looking, and no one had told him that in too long.

So, with a smile and your spine a little straighter, you nodded, your voice sounding as sweet as honey.

“Yes, sir, never better.”

He eyed you, not suspiciously but rather worried.

“Ya sure? Just sitting there for fun, hm?”
Concern tinted his voice as he leaned in closer to the window and looked you up and down.
His second mistake.
He was a man, like any other. His eyes clung to your exposed legs, the jeans cut offs just long enough to only border on indecent. Then they travelled up further, resting just a moment too long on your exposed midriff but surprisingly skipped over your breasts right to your face as if he had caught himself staring.

“I’m tanning,” you informed him and smirked.

His laughter was beautiful, like a waterfall of gold. You swore you heard a little rasp and wondered if he smoked.

“Tanning? Y’might wanna call it fryin’ yourself.” He shook his head and looked a little more serious. “Honey, it’s 103 degrees. You should get home and go inside before ya start stickin’ to the sidewalk.”

Honey. The nickname made your knees weak in no time. He was a spider, spinning his net around you with every word that left his lips, and he didn’t even know.

“What if I don’t wanna go home? I like it here much better,” you replied easily and tilted your head to the sun. Sweat drenched your hairline and the skin on your cheeks felt tight with heat but compared to the hell awaiting you at home, this was nothing but a cool escape.

“Come on, sweetheart, you’ll get a heat stroke if you stay here. Is it far? I’ll drop ya off, if ya want. You don’t even got any water with you.”

He glanced at you again as he noted the lack of a bag or bottle.
“Can’t have you shriveling up in the sun on my conscience.” It almost sounded like a plea, and you felt inclined to agree with him. You were quite literally cooking in the sun.

“I don’t live nearby.” A blatant lie, not out of self-preservation but rather defiance. He looked at you closely, head slightly tilted. You could tell that he was questioning your words. A slow steady hand came up to his face and he rubbed his jaw.

“Well, you can’t stay here,” he said decidedly. “Come on, girl, it’s too hot to sit out there. You don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna, but you can sit in the car if you like. Just to cool down.”
Tempting. The offer hung in the air between you and as the sweat slicked your back, you made your decision.

“Alright,” you replied and found your way to your feet. The second you stood upright, he swallowed hard before reaching over the console to prop the door open.
The car smelled faintly like cigarettes, as if he didn’t smoke inside but couldn’t lose the scent. The leather seats were clean and warmed from the sun; your thighs clung to the material as you sat down inside.

“I’m Joel, by the way. Joel Miller.”

He said it so easily, like his name didn’t immediately burn into the deepest part of your brain, like your tongue didn’t beg to move in the shape of it.

“Joel,” you repeated, trying out the name. A sense of satisfaction washed over you as you nodded approvingly.
“Or do you prefer Mr Miller.” It was a tame tease but it earned you a gruff glance, nonetheless.
“Joel’s fine. Now what about you?”

You told him your name and he nodded approvingly.
“Pretty,” he commented, his fingers strumming on the stirring wheel restlessly. Then he reached out to turn up the A/C., seemingly searching for something to focus on, other than you.
“Now, why were ya sittin’ out there all on your own?” He asked, “The truth this time.”

With a slow, calculating movement you shifted in your seat to face him. The leather beneath your thighs creaked softly as you crossed your legs. His eyes briefly dipped to your knees but he quickly dragged them back up to meet yours.

“I’m not exactly plannin’ on goin’ home,” you revealed.
He wasn’t surprised, not as you had expected. His face stayed relaxed as he listened to you, only nodding softly, encouraging you to continue.
“So, what’s your plan then?”

Good question. You hadn’t gotten much further then dreaming up some idea of getting out of this town, believing that the solution to your problems might just fall into your lap. And as you sat opposite Joel, you couldn’t help but think that God might have heard that prayer and for once fulfilled your request.

“Depends,” you drawled out and his eyebrows twitched visibly, “Where are you going?”
You had expected a flustered reaction or another grumpy stare at least. Instead he laughed right in your face.

“You’re trouble, sweetheart. You can forget any of that right away. I’m not interested.”

It didn’t hurt, not exactly, but it stung enough to make you a little bratty.
“Oh, come on, Joel,” you murmured, leaning in a little closer. You didn’t touch him yet, holding it back for another time. “I’m just looking for a ride.”

He exhaled a little too deeply, too relaxed to truly be convincing.
“I haven’t even told you where I’m going. And I’m not taking you, either.”

“Oh, please, Joel,” you mumbled, “Anywhere is better than here.”
That did it for him. His sharp look faltered just a little and you saw a hint of softness entering his eyes.
You made another mental note about Joel Miller:

4) He knew more pain than most people.

He looked at you a long time, his gaze now completely different compared to earlier. It felt like he was scanning you as his eyes dragged over every inch of you, filing away every scar, dimple and mark that he could see. He was weighing his options and probably wondering if he would find himself regretting this situation.

“How old are you, honey?”
You knew you had won the second the question slipped past his lips.

“I’m 21,” you replied honestly; Joel dragged a palm across his face.
“And you can’t go home?”

Can’t. He said ‘can’t’ not’ won’t’.

You shook your head slowly. “It’s not my home anymore.”
Joel watched you quietly for a while and then nodded.

“I’m goin’ to Seattle,” he announced, “My daughter’s …. she’s at U-Dub, I’m drivin’ up to visit her.”
“Smart girl,” you replied.
“Yeah, tell me about it.”

It was quiet for some time before he spoke up again.
“I’ll take you with me if that’s what you want. I’ll drop you anywhere or I’ll take you the whole way, your decision, you just say the word, sweetheart.”

This was the best day of your life, like God Himself had handed you a sign: this day, this truck, this man, all entering your life to lead you into the first day of your new life.
“Sounds like a plan,” you replied eagerly, “Thank you, Joel.”
You dragged out his name, letting it slip from your lips a little lower, as if tasting the promise of what was yet to come.

“Christ,” he mumbled and grabbed the steering wheel a little tighter, “Mind your manners or I’ll rethink my decisions.”

Joel was a quiet man. The radio played faintly, so low that you wandered if his ears even picked up on the sounds.
His silence allowed too many thoughts and didn’t offer enough distraction so you leaned forward, dialing up the radio as you scanned Joel.

He drove like a father. One hand rested on the wheel, elbow propped up on the window, the other hand hovering near the clutch. A dark green flannel stretched over his broad shoulders and chest, the first two buttons opened just enough to spare a glimpse of neat, dark curls peeping out.
His jeans clad thighs were thick and steady, and his right front pocket carried a rectangle shaped box – a pack of cigarettes.

“Do you mind if I smoke in here?” You asked, already rolling down the window.
“Yeah, I mind,” he replied quietly and reached over you to close it again, keeping his eyes on the street simultaneously.
You scoffed but didn’t push. His truck, his rules – for now.

Still, just the music and the passing scenery outside was not enough to satisfy your under stimulated brain.
“Tell me something ‘bout you.”
He spared you a sour glance. “Why?”
“Cause it’s a long fucking drive and it’ll be more interesting that way,” you answered dryly.

He groaned softly and you wanted to hear that sound more often. Wanted to be the reason for it all the time.

“Fine, what do you wanna know?” He asked defeatedly.
“You married?” Bold question. Not exactly subtle.
“No,” he answered.
“But you have a kid,” you probed.
“Yeah.”

Wow, he really was a conversationalist.

“Joel, come on, that’s not how talkin’ works.”

That earned you another dry look.
“I was married, had a daughter with her, now I’m not married anymore. Divorces exist.”

Thank God they did.
“Alright, why did you get a divorce?” You inquired curiously.

His eyes flickered to the rearview mirror and then back onto the street.
“Cause… the same reason everybody gets a divorce. Fell outta love.”
“How come?”
“Kid, if I had known you’re gonna ask so many damn questions, I woulda left you on that sidewalk.

You tsked softly.
“God, you’re sensitive. You need to get laid.”
You couldn’t help the smirk that followed those words.

He didn’t dignify that with a reply and you frowned out the window.
“I’m just curious. I don’t know many divorced people,” you explained further.
Joel gave you a short look, and you realized he was wondering whether you were joking.

“I’m serious,” you insisted, “You drove through the town where I live. Small place, tightknit community and everybody’s so fucking Christian, so no divorces – people just kill their spouses.”
“’m pretty sure that’s not the most Christian thing to do either.”

Oh, so he can make jokes.

You snickered.
“Guess it’s better than being stuck in a loveless marriage. And cheaper than divorce if done right.”

He chuckled faintly and you wanted to bottle up that sound and drink it for breakfast. It was raspy, dark, and deep; and it pooled slowly in your lower belly.

Dry open fields, small towns and ranches passed by as you departed from Austin. You watched your hometown grow smaller in the rearview mirror until it disappeared.
Breathing came easier as if the distance loosened the iron ring surrounding your lungs.

Joel spoke sparsely but every time he did, your heart sped up a little.
Coaxing personal information from him was about as easy as chipping away at a brick wall with a spoon.

“So, your daughter,” you began, fidgeting with the pendant on your necklace, “She a good girl?”

His eyes met yours briefly, one eyebrow raised but below it, you saw the softness in his expression. And something else you couldn’t quite place but it read like pain.

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice catching ever so slightly, “She is.”

It hurt a little to see a man speak so fondly about his daughter. You would have done a lot to have ever seen your own father smile when he thought of you instead of frown.

“Tell me about her,” you prompted, more than a bit curious about the girl.

“What for?” He wondered out loud and you rolled your eyes.

“Joel, are you seriously planning on suffocating me with your quiet for the rest of the trip?”

“I’m plannin’ on kickin’ you out if you don’t stop pesterin’ me,” he muttered.

That made you grin because even though you believed him to be hard-headed and gruff, you didn’t think he would just leave you out here in the middle of nowhere. Still, you relented.

“Fine, keep your secrets.”

So the music played as Joel drove. His watchful eyes never left the street stretched out in front of him.

The more road you put behind you, the more the world darkened.

“We should find a motel for the night,” Joel stated, “And dinner. I’m starvin’.”

He pulled in at a diner, the neon sign too bright for your eyes as you gazed up at the place.

“They do decent pancakes here,” he declared as he slipped off his seatbelt and opened the car door.

You followed him, a few steps behind. The air had grown a little colder, still sticky with humidity but much more bearable now.

The diner’s windows were illuminated, yellow light flooding the small glass door. A bell sounded as Joel led you inside.

A plump woman in her mid-40s greeted the two of you, her white apron stained with oven grease and something else – hopefully chocolate.

“Hey y’all! Don’t be strangers—come on in,” she greeted giddily, way too energized for someone working so late but you couldn’t help but adore her immediately.
“Grab a seat anywhere, I’ll be right with ya,” she instructed.
Joel just nodded briefly and guided you into a far corner of the place.

Without question he sank into the seat facing the door, like he was waiting for armed gunmen to run inside and start shooting up the space.

“Sit,” he rumbled quietly.
The red leather creaked as you moved into the booth, the material soft and worn under your bare thighs.

Joel passed you a menu and for the first time that day, you realized a fatal mistake in your sudden departure from home.

“Joel,” you whispered, your cheeks warming as he met your eyes, “I ain’t got much money with me.”

“Oh, honey-“ you flinched in surprise when the woman from before returned with a notepad and pen in her hands, “I’m sure your daddy won’t mind payin’ for ya.”

Chapter 2: Where the world was empty, save you and I

Chapter Text

The light in the motel room flickered while Joel blockaded the bathroom. After the waitress’s misinterpretation of you, calling you his daughter, he had barely uttered a sound. It wasn’t quite just embarrassment that tinted his expression; another emotion had flickered across his face at her words but you were still not sure what it had been.

Through the thin walls you easily heard the drum of water cascading down onto the tiles and your mind wandered a little too effortlessly. The most skin Joel had bared to you so far was the exposed flesh of his muscular forearms, warmed from years of sun exposure. You attributed his burly frame to manual labor but the man was so private that you didn’t know anything definite about his place of work.

Still, you couldn’t help but imagine him under the constant stream of water, just a few feet and a door separating you from him, drops cascading down his broad chest, dipping down between the valleys of hard muscle on his abdomen. Your hand already threatened to slip between your own thighs to still the dull ache pulsing between them when the shower suddenly shut off.

The bathroom door flew open and you swallowed hard when Joel emerged. Your fantasies didn’t quite manage to hold up against the reality walking into the dingy motel room. Joel’s caramel skin glistened under the orange lighting in the room, striking rays catching in the beads of water gliding down his stomach. They disappeared beneath the towel wrapped around his hips, which sat just low enough to offer you a glance at his happy trail. Neat, dark brown curls adorned the skin there. Still, you managed to get a glimpse of a prominent vein leading further down before vanishing under the towel. Your brain filled in for the details hidden under the cloth but you weren’t sure if it truly compared to the real thing.

“Hey-“ his voice ripped you out of your daydreams, “Shower’s yours.”

All you were capable was a nod and a quiet ‘thanks’ as you slowly slipped off the bed. You had to force your eyes away from him while you entered the bathroom, which was drenched in his smell.

Not just the shampoo and body wash he had used lingered in the air; his own scent remained as well. That smell – wooden, warm and undeniably masculine – enveloped you as you shut the door behind you, effectively trapping you in a cloud of him.

You stepped onto the slick tiles and watched the remnants of bubbles escape through the drain. Then you turned on the water. It didn’t get quite as hot as you wanted but after a long day of sweating, it might as well have been a spa treatment.

With slow, gentle movements you washed away the traces of hours spent on the sidewalk and in Joel’s car until you felt squeaky clean. The distance to your hometown, miles spread out between you and your childhood bedroom, eased that process, leaving you feeling pristine. Almost new. Almost worthy of something more. Almost.

Joel didn’t look up when you stepped out of the bathroom but you noticed his head tilting slightly, like he made a conscious decision to not let his eyes set on you. He had changed into a soft pair of flannel pants and a simple grey shirt while you were now the one covered only by a towel. Unlike you, he didn’t ogle which stupidly offended you a little.

You made a show out of walking past him, more sway in your hips than necessary as you passed his bed and sat down on your own.

The motel had only had a limited number of rooms left for the night, either one with a double bed or two twin beds. As much as you fantasized about letting Joel have his way with you, a part of you was relieved that he had insisted on separate sleeping arrangements.

Joel didn’t spare you a single glance while you rested on your bed. Only when you spoke up did his eyes meet yours.

“I have a small problem,” you informed him matter-of-factly.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What would that be?” He asked.

“I didn’t bring any clothes,” you explained and a soft red hue colored his golden skin as you continued, “Guess I’ll have to sleep naked.”

He cleared his throat, then slipped off the bed while he muttered, “I don’t think so.”

His knees popped when he kneeled before his bag, haphazardly shoved into a corner of the room. For a few seconds he went through it, fabric rustling, until he straightened up and walked up to you, clutching a shirt and a pair of boxers in his hand. Not once did he allow his eyes to wander over your body.

“That’ll do” he grunted and dropped the clothes next to you on the mattress, “They’re uh… they’re fresh and clean. Probably a bit big on you, but it’ll work for the nights.”

“Thanks,” you answered and stood up, your arm brushing up against his. For a few seconds, you shared the same oxygen, his body just lightly grazing yours. You raised your chin to meet his eyes and saw a whisper of want in them, just the idea of recklessness.

The moment faltered when he took a hasty step back, quickly increasing the distance between you as if it burned him to be in your proximity. But he didn’t look away. The air crackled with charged energy as your fingers slowly came up to loosen the knot on your chest. The towel didn’t unravel immediately; it just bared a little more skin. He stiffened visibly; you could’ve sworn you heard his breath catch. For a moment, you let the scene unfold, the towel inching down further, inviting him to look. He didn’t.And somehow, his refusal to look made your skin burn hotter than if he had.

“You gonna turn around or are you waiting for a show?” You asked then.

That snapped him out of his trance and he rotated on his heels. “Jesus, girl,” he muttered, “You’re nothin’ but trouble.”

That earned him a genuine chuckle from you while you let the towel drop to your feet with a thud. He registered the sound and his shoulders tensed as he faced the opposite wall.

“As long as you don’t got eyes in the back of your head, you ain’t got a thing to worry about, Joel,” you teased while draping the shirt across your body, then stepped into the boxers.

He breathed out a noise that might have been a gruff chuckle or a groan – neither of you knew for sure. “Just put on the damn clothes and say thank you,” he grumbled.

“I already did,” you answered.

Joel turned around and swallowed. The shirt – his shirt – consumed your frame. He couldn’t help himself as his eyes traveled downwards to your exposed legs. Nothing he hadn’t seen before since you had run around in jean shorts all day but it was a whole different scenario when you were dressed in nothing but his own things. It stirred something in him, mainly something in his pants.

“Goddamnit,” he cursed under his breath, “I swear God put you on that street to tempt me. Or to punish me, who knows.”

That was by far not the worst thing anyone had ever said to you but it still stung coming from his mouth.

“Got it that bad, hm?” You provoked him, a small smirk plastered across your face.

“Just shut up,” he replied, raking a hand through his curls, still damp from his earlier shower.

He cursed under his breath, his jaw tightening. For a heartbeat he stood there, fighting it, his hands flexing at his sides. Then he glanced up and all his inhibitions went out the window.

His mouth crashed onto yours, hot and heavy with everything he’d been holding back.

Joel tasted like toothpaste but underneath it, you noticed a hint of nicotine, sticking to his tongue relentlessly. He kissed you breathless, teasing your cupid’s bow and trapping your lower lip in between his teeth. A sharp bite caused you to gasp into his mouth.

Your skin prickled as he let his hands drift, first only squeezing your hips, then traveling down to the curve of your ass. A choked sound tumbled from his throat as he palmed your flesh through the material of the boxers.

Then the bubble burst when he suddenly stumbled back.

“No,” he declared, “No, no, this ain’t good. We can’t do this.”

The color drained from your face as you followed him while he staggered through the room. “What? Why? What did I do?”

He chuckled.

“What did you do?” He repeated, dragging his palm across his face as he attempted to hold in his laughter.

“Shit, you did nothin’,” Joel answered, the amusement fading out of his face, “I’m the one who did it. Goddammit, you’re 21! You’re supposed to be hookin’ up with boys who have no idea where to put their hands, not some guy old enough to be your damn father!”

You shrugged and he lost it.

“Christ, girl, use your brain. This- this ain’t right. I’m… I’m gonna drive you back home tomorrow. And I’ll sleep in the car tonight. Jesus.”

“No!”

“The hell you mean ‘no’?”

You tried to regain your composure but he might as well have just condemned you to die.

“I mean no,” you hissed, “You can’t take me back tomorrow. You said you’d drive me up to Boston. If you make me go home, my parents are gonna kill me. I’d rather stay in this fucking motel for the rest of my life, but I’m not going back. Ever.”

Joel stared at you speechlessly, one hand hovering over the door knob. Then he exhaled, the sound heavy with restraint, before he resumed speaking.

“What the fuck is goin’ on at home, kid, huh?”

“None of your damn business,” you bit back. His fingers tightened into fists, then he took another deep breath.

“It Is my business,” he insisted, “If I’m gonna take you across the fucking country, I need to know what the hell you’re running from.”

“What the fuck, Joel? You didn’t give a shit eight hours ago and now you wanna blackmail me into telling you my sob stories or I have to go home?” You huffed, crossing your arms over your heaving chest.

“Of course I gave a shit! Why do you think I offered to take ya in the first place, huh? Think a girl with sad eyes like yours goes unnoticed? You should be fucking glad that it was me and not some guy with intentions worse than mine!” He argued back, his face reddening with anger.

“Oh, yeah, right, I just experienced your pure fucking intentions, didn’t I?” You snapped, your lips still kiss-bitten.

His face fell.

“This is the exact problem. And it’s why you have to go home. I can’t… I’m not gonna let you fuck up my life or your own under my watch,” he stated decidedly.

“You seriously think sendin’ me back home’s not gonna fuck my life any further,” you shrieked.

“Not my fuckin’ problem.” You read the lie straight from his face. His eyes flashed with regret the second the words left his mouth. Even though you knew he wasn’t telling you the truth, it hurt, nonetheless.

“Well, fuck you then,” you uttered and brushed past him, stepping right out the door.

There wasn’t anywhere for you to go, not in pajamas twice your size and barefoot. Still, you walked the lone street leading away from the motel, gravel piercing the soles of your feet.

At a bus stop, you sat down, the cold metal of the bench biting into your skin but it was a welcome contrast to the heated anger coursing through your body.

You pulled your legs up to your chest and hugged your knees. The tears came fast and easy, flooding your cheeks and dripping down your chin. More minutes passed than you could count and you quieted down from sobs to soft sniffles.

As the darkness enveloped you, doubts crept through your veins. With the heatwave currently creeping through Texas, it was more than warm enough to sleep outside but it certainly was far from safe. The street was lined by rundown trucks, blinds spread behind windshields but you knew the kind of people slumbering behind them. Any one of them could wake and find you out here, in the middle of nowhere, all on your own.

But your pride kept you planted on the seat, and maybe your missing interest in self-preservation did as well.

Lucky for you, Joel had more than enough for the both of you. He waited in the motel room to see if you would come back, then realized you wouldn’t, so he gave you a few moments to cool down. But he watched you, watched out for you as you shrunk into yourself. Part of him wanted to curse you for your carelessness but the other side of him knew that no heated talk or yelling match would make you more responsible now.

He came out of the shadows and was relieved to see you at least look up when you registered the sound.

Your brows knit together – a mix of surprise and left-over anger.

“What are you doin’ here?” You asked, your voice thick with emotions.

“You can’t stay out here all night,” he replied, sitting down next to you on the bench.

For a moment, you stayed quiet in contemplation, weighing your options. There was no way you were returning to Austin tomorrow. But something soft in his gaze eased your fury a little as he watched you thoughtfully.

“I ain’t goin’ back home,” you stated, glancing up at him. The bite in your voice had been replaced with hopelessness and it broke Joel’s heart a little.

“I know,” he muttered. Silence lingered on for longer than you liked, hesitation written all over his face. “I’m plannin’ on keepin’ my promise. I’ll take you to Boston.”

That brought some light back into your eyes.

“Really?” You whispered, a hint of doubt swinging in your voice.

“Yeah,” Joel answered, determination accompanying his, “Not sure if it’s the right thing to do, to be honest. But I see that look on your face, that… that pain. And putting you back in the place where it was born – that certainly ain’t the right thing to do. Now, let’s go back inside. We got a couple of long days coming up.”

Chapter 3: I'm tired of you, still tied to me (bleeding whenever you want)

Chapter Text

Goodland, KS

A light drizzle fell outside, soft raindrops occasionally hitting the window as you woke up. It was hard to pry your lashes apart, sleep sticking them together like chewing gum to the ground.

It had been a hard couple of days; the road was long, Joel was quiet. Motel rooms, gas stations and dry fields had been your companions for the last week along with Joel’s worsening mood.

He was a confusing man. The closer you got to Boston, the gruffer he became. He never outright yelled at you, not since your reconciliation at the bus stop that first night, but there was a trace of anger in every move he made.

Once you had woken up enough to ease yourself into an upright position, you saw that Joel’s bed was empty. Your heart plummeted, like that moment when you miss the last few steps on a staircase.

You were on your feet in an instant, fingers already stretched out to grab his sheets. They were cold already, the fabric stiff and crumpled under your skin.

“Joel?” you squeaked, voice rising in pitch as fear settled in your stomach. No answer came.

He had left. He had abandoned you here, in a small town somewhere in Western Kansas, all on your own. What about his promise? You couldn’t believe it, a heavy weight settling on your chest as you ripped open the bathroom door and still didn’t find him.

“Joel?” you called out a little louder. Breathing might as well have been an Olympic discipline as you staggered back out of the bathroom and glanced around the room.

He hadn’t brought a lot of luggage either, just a small duffle bag that still rested at the foot of his bed but his backpack was gone. Your chest rose and fell way too quickly but it felt like no oxygen made it to your brain. A thick veil of dimness settled over you, your steps becoming uncoordinated as you reached the motel room’s door.

The brass knob was cold under your hand, biting into your skin. You twisted it, shaking so much that you almost lost your grip and the door swung open with a quiet squeak.

And your heart slowed down again. Joel sat in a small red chair, looking ridiculous oversized in the plastic seat as his hand travelled up to his mouth, a cigarette dangling between his pointer and middle finger, backpack on the floor next to him.

“Mornin’,” he muttered as he looked up.

“M-mornin’,” you replied, exhaling with relief.

He gave you a puzzled glance, eyes sweeping over you as his brows knitted together. “Y’alright there, kid?” he asked, “Ya look like ya seen a damn ghost.”

“’m fine,” you insisted, embarrassment crawling through your veins at your outburst, “Just… nothin’, never mind.”

“Suit yourself,” he murmured, a little grumpiness returning to his words, and took another drag of his cigarette.

It stayed quiet for a few moments as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. Words laid on your tongue, a strange desire to tell him how scared you had been when you woke up and he was gone but you decided against sharing it. Instead you walked up to him and leaned against the railing, looking down at the motel’s pool below.

The rain had worsened quite a bit, its fresh scent mixing with the chlorine’s smell and Joel’s cigarette.

“Can I have one?” you asked, already stretching out a hand.

He had been sharing his cigarettes reluctantly with you, had only started to do so when you had spent a whole day pestering him about it.

He grunted in reply, rather displeased but held out the pack. Despite his irritation, he passed you the lighter along with it and then leaned back.

You lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, already anticipating the rush of calm that nicotine bestowed upon you.

Joel met your eyes briefly, a trace of something that you couldn’t quite distinguish in his expression. Thunder rumbled and he looked away, shaking his head slightly.

“What?” you questioned.

“Nothin’.” He leaned back in the chair and spread his thighs, jeans clinging to his muscular legs. With another drag of his cigarette, he sighed heavily.

“Something’s up with you, Joel. I can tell. Just spit it out,” you insisted which earned you another gruff glance and a huff before he spoke.

“Leave it, kid. I mean it.”

Larger drops of rain now poured down from the sky, rippling the pool water and drumming against the roof over you.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. It didn’t seem like he was planning on giving in so you relented.

“Fine,” you began, “Then let’s talk about something else.”

“Jesus,” he muttered, “Can you not just be quiet for once? Do you have to fill every bit of silence?”

“Yes,” you answered bluntly, “I do. Now, c’mon. Tell me, how often have you been to Boston?”

He winced like you had struck him.

“Talk about somethin’ else. Anythin’.”

“Why?”

“Kid, I swear to God – either you choose another damn topic or shut the hell up.” His voice rose ever so slightly, aggravation making his hands tremble.

“I don’t get it,” you declared, “I thought you were lookin’ forward to goin’ to Boston, seein’ Sarah-“

Joel jumped out of his chair and it rebounded from the metal railing. He flicked out his cigarette and threw it to the ground, then slammed the door to your motel room behind him. You were alone again, confusion written all over your face.

For a few seconds, you faltered, torn between giving him his space and demanding answers, maybe even an apology. You had done nothing but ask him a few questions and he was acting like a stubborn child.

Your hurt pride won and you stubbed out your cigarette, then followed him into the room.

“What the hell is going on with you?” you demanded the second you stepped inside.

Joel stood in front of his bed, the duffle bag propped up on the mattress as he threw his toothbrush and towel into it.

“You really don’t know when to quit, do ya?” he hissed, not even bothering to turn around.

“Guess not,” you retorted. His shoulders tensed up and he closed the zipper of his bag with more vigor than necessary. Then he walked into the bathroom, retrieving yesterday’s clothes.

You followed him, just a few steps behind.

“Joel? What the hell, man? You gonna give me the fucking silent treatment like a damn teenage girl?”

“God-fucking-damnit,” he exhaled, “Give it a rest!” Then he spun on his heels and faced you. “We have about 1,800 miles left to go, so maybe two and a half days on the road. Can you not just keep your damn mouth shut and then be on your way? Why do you have to constantly get on my nerves, parading around in your damn tiny outfits, yapping my ear off about things I don’t wanna tell you.”

You opened your mouth to reply but he shook his head.

“No!” he stated, pointer finger raised, “I’m talkin’ now. Just get in the car and be quiet. I swear, I never shoulda taken you with me but I’m keepin’ my damn promise. Stop makin’ it so hard for me!”

Every word landed like a blow to your head, chipping away at the comfort that Joel’s usual caring nature had built for you. A lump in your throat made it heart to swallow, to breathe. Tears threatened to spill so you looked away.

Joel exhaled, his chest heaving with anger.

“Go to the car. Don’t fuckin’ lemme catch you wanderin’ off, ya hear me?”

You nodded silently, then headed for the door. Your legs trembled with every step, a small whimper escaping your mouth when you stepped onto the parking lot.

Rain poured down, leaving you dripping like a wet dog in no time. You were drenched to the bone by the time Joel came outside and a hint of guilt clouded his face but he stayed silent. He unlocked the car, opened the trunk and haphazardly threw his stuff inside.

Then he circled around and walked up to the driver’s side.

“Get it,” he mumbled, resignation tinting his voice.

You didn’t pick a fight, just opened the passenger door and slumped into your seat.

The air prickled with discomfort and awkwardness as you passed through Kansas. Neither of you spoke and the radio crackled in and out while Joel steered the car through the countryside.

Hours ticked by, only interrupted by two stops at gas stations. Once the sun began to set, he drove off the interstate.

Columbia, MO

Joel filled up the gas tank once more for tomorrow’s drive while you ventured into the small store. A bored cashier, barely older than you, was perched in front of the register, swiping on his phone while chewing on a sandwich that looked like it was left in the sun a little too long.

The guy looked up when you entered, a shrill bell announcing your arrival, and a smirk built on his face.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greeted you, “Can I help you find anything?”

He had that typical midwestern drawl and dimples – very cute. And you were mad at Joel for yelling at you and making you feel like shit, so you decided to indulge in the guy’s attention.

“Sure,” you replied, putting on your best, sultry smile, “You guys have any cherry coke?”

He stepped away from the register, heading straight towards you.

“Yeah, we do,” he answered, “See, just there-“

His arm brushed yours as he pointed out an assortment of canned drinks. Your smile deepened, and you nodded, “Thanks.”

“Any time,” he countered, leaning in a little, “How come I’ve never seen you around before? I’d remember a face like yours.”

“I’m just passin’ through,” you told him and he sighed pitifully.

“It’s always the pretty ones that are not from here,” he declares dramatically, giving you another grin.

Heat spread into your fingertips as he flirted with you, soothing your bruised ego a little.

“Who knows, I might stick around for a while,” you teased despite knowing that Joel was not gonna spend a second longer here than necessary.

“That’d be great. How about you gimme your number so that we can-,” The bell rang again and the cashier froze in place.

Joel walked in, his eyes immediately narrowing when he spotted the two of you.

“Thought you were gonna get something to eat,” he said, addressing you but his gaze tapered in on the guy. Those were the first words he had uttered since that morning.

“I am,” you replied stoically and huffed out a breath of air, then headed to the shelf with drinks. You grabbed two cans, unaware to the one-sided staring battle between Joel and the cashier who gulped heavily.

“That’s not food,” he commented when you returned with your drinks.

“What do you care?” You retorted.

Joel rolled his eyes, then looked back at the cashier.

“This-“ he grabbed the cans from your hands, “-and a pack of Marlboros, kid. Cash,” he barked out. The guy blanched and scrambled to punch in the items into the register, then hesitated when he opened the cigarette suspender.

“Red or gold?” He asked, a nervous tremor accompanying his words. Joel stared him down, thrumming his fingers against the counter. “Red.”

He paid, then grabbed your meager ‘groceries’ and pulled you out of the gas station. “Hey!” you protested but he didn’t stop, he just continued dragging you by your biceps.

Back in the car, he went back to his stoic silence while he checked his phone for any motels nearby. You crossed your arms, a sour scowl on your face.

When he turned right on the street, he glanced at you and sighed exasperatedly.

“What’s that frown for?” he asked, his voice a little softer than before.

“Oh, now you’re talking to me? That’s great,” you commented, turning a little in your seat to face the window.

He exhaled audibly and out of your peripheral vision, you saw how he rubbed his hand over his jaw.

“I’m sorry ‘bout this mornin’,” he muttered, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

You huffed but didn’t answer.

“But just ‘cause I’m a little upset with you,” he started, “Doesn’t mean you gotta throw yourself at the next best guy.”

“What?” You screeched, “What the fuck, Joel?”

“I’m just sayin’ it how it is,” he replied angrily, gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his knuckles whitened, “I swear, it’s like you’re desperate for attention, and just ‘cause you can’t have mine, you’ll just take whoever comes next.”

“How fuckin’ dare you!?” you yelled, adjusting in your seat so quickly that the car shook a bit, “You don’t know me. You know nothing about me! So don’t even try to tell me anything about what I can and can’t do. If I wanna fuck every guy in town, I can. It’s none of your damn business. And if you were just a little honest with yourself, you’d just admit it: You like me and you can’t handle that!”

“That’s not- that is not fuckin’ true. I don’t- I don’t like you. I’m just doin’ you a favor and you’re an ungrateful, little brat,” he scoffed.

“Right, because you’d just pick up any girl from the street and take them on a seven-day road trip,” you snapped.

He stammered for words, trying to deny your own.

“That is… you are so entitled and- and spoiled. I just wanted to help you!”

“Oh, fuck you, Joel! Maybe you wanted to help me when you offered me a ride home but the second you left Austin with me in your fucking car, you were done for it. And now you can’t handle the consequences of your decision, because now you wanna sleep with me and-“

Joel slammed the brakes so suddenly that you slid forward, only caught by your seatbelt.

“Shut up!” he barked.

Something in your brain snapped when he yelled at you again and you ripped open the car door, then jumped out.

“Don’t fuckin’ run away again,” Joel shouted, following right behind you.

“Just leave me alone if I’m such a fucking brat,” you hissed. A mix of anger and hurt fueled your steps but he caught up to you quickly and caught your wrist.

“Listen to me, goddammit,” he demanded, turning you to face him.

His eyes were wild, a brew of emotion swimming in them.

“Ugh, fuck,” he sighed, “I’m- Jesus, I’m sorry. This is not- I’m trying to make this better but I just keep fuckin’ up.”

He wiped beads of sweat from his brows and let go of your wrist. Instead, he rested his hands on your shoulders.

“Just… give me a minute to say what I need to say. Don’t- don’t interrupt me. Can you do that?”

You nodded quietly.

“Okay,” he muttered, “First of all, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for yellin’ and I’m sorry for bein’ an ass. I’m tryin’ my best but that’s never really been all that.”

He met your eyes, guilt carved into his face.

“And yeah, you’re right. I can’t handle the consequences of my own action, because, yes, I do like you. Even when I know I shouldn’t. Even when it makes me feel like some… some predator cause you’re my daughter’s age and that’s- that’s just not right.”

His voice cracked, shaking harder the more he spoke.

“I shouldn’t like you the way I like you. So, yeah, I’ve been tryin’ to keep my distance, tryin’ not to let you get too close to me ‘cause I can’t keep losing all the people in my life that are important to me.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your tongue twisted with words, ready to be said, but none of them felt right. After thirty seconds of silence, you finally replied.

“Maybe you’re not gonna lose me. I- I like you, too. That ain’t a crime.”

“Sure feels like one,” he mumbled, “Like I’m draggin’ you down, corruptin’ you.”

“Joel,” you began, “You are the first man in my life that doesn’t want to corrupt me. You’re the first man I’ve ever met that refused to sleep with me. I think that says a lot more about you than anything else.”

Chapter 4: Like we’re the only people in the world God left to mind to

Chapter Text

Columbia, MO

Hands. A pair of hands – one that did not belong there – crawled across your body, touching, caressing, kneading. Your skin prickled with disgust and fear as the touch grew more insistent, more violent, fingers prodding in places they were not supposed to be, a sharp pain between your thighs. Every part of your body hurt even though you had read somewhere that you couldn’t feel pain in dreams. But memory was a tricky thing – rules did not always apply there.

Whimpers stumbled from your lips, cut off and high pitched, when the ache didn’t ease. You wanted to reach out to shove him off of you but your limbs didn’t listen. Even though you were sure your lids were shut, a familiar pair of eyes, way too similar to your own, ghosted through your vision. They were wide with lust and cruelty, pupils blown.

Warm spit landed on your face and you cried out, begging your body to move but you were frozen in place. Trapped, sobbing and unmoving. Someone called out your name, holding you down or maybe shaking you – you couldn’t tell. But you knew the voice, and this one had never been in this particular dream before.

“Jesus, kid, wake up!”

You ripped your eyes open, gasping for air, already pushing at the broad shoulders caging you in.

“No, don’t touch me!” you begged, blinded by tears as you swatted at the solid wall of muscle.

“Hey, hey- okay, calm down. Listen t’me, it’s me. It’s just me.” Joel.

It was Joel. Not the boogeyman from your childhood, panting into your ear while you prayed that everything would end.

“Look at me,” he instructed and you followed his command. Slowly, you pried your lashes apart, sticky, hot tears running down your cheeks. Warm, chocolate eyes greeted you, worry etched into his face. Joel sat on the side of your bed, hands raised non-threateningly while his eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“You’re alright,” he muttered, “It was just a dream. Take a deep breath, c’mon now, honey.”

He watched as your labored breathing slowed down to an acceptable rhythm, then met your eyes.

“There you go,” he mumbled, “You’re doin’ great. Just keep breathin’ like that, y’hear me?”

Silently, you nodded, every breath chipping away at the ghosts left behind by the nightmare. You sat up, a humorless chuckle falling from your lips.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you stated, “I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, “It ain’t your fault. Just a dream.”

His gaze never left you, relentlessly overwhelming as he analyzed every move you made. So, you looked away, trying to focus on anything else than the pool of leftover anxiety in your tummy and the way you could count every freckle on his sun kissed skin if you wanted to.

“You good?” he questioned.

“Mhm,” you murmured in reply.

“You gonna hit me again?”

Your eyes darted to his, relieved to find a bit of humor in them.

“I didn’t mean to,” you explained wearily.

“Yeah, I figured,” he replied, “You were thrashin’ pretty badly. Thought you were gonna gimme a black eye.”

“Sorry,” you answered meekly but he shook his head. “None of that, y’hear me?” Joel scooted a little closer, nervously assessing your face.

“You, uh, you wanna talk about it?” he asked, his fingers meeting in his lap to fidget uneasily.

“Do you?” you countered and he chuckled softly. “I mean… I’ll listen,” he replied, “I think… I don’t mean to overstep but I guess I can… assume… I-I heard what you said – in your dream, I mean.”

“Please, stop,” you whispered, “Don’t… it’s fine, it doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does,” he insisted, “I think it matters, it obviously matters to you, or you wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Joel,” you stopped him, “Just leave it. Please.”

“I mean… I- I ain’t gonna make you do or say anything but I think-“

His words barely reached your ears as he rambled on. A cold, anxious sensation swept over you, raising goosebumps on every inch of your skin. He knew. In a way – maybe not with all the details – he knew. And that turned your stomach. You didn’t want him to look at you the way he did, eyes full of sorrow and pity, fingers trembling with the need to soothe your pain away – not that he ever could.

He went on talking, babbling some nonsense about how you might feel better if you opened up a little but your head swam with fear. He just didn’t stop and even though his caring nature had been the building stones of your attraction for him, right now you just wanted him to shut up.

So you did the worst thing you could possibly think of.

You kissed him.

He made a surprised sound, muffled by your lips, as you cupped his face and crashed your mouth onto his but he didn’t back away. Just for a moment, he kissed you back and you crawled onto his lap, your blanket sliding right off of you.

When your thighs bracketed his, he gasped and then pulled away.

“Wait,” he whispered, your saliva glistening on his cupid’s bow, “Stop. What are you doin’?”

You tried to connect your lips to his again, but he shook his head and rested his hands on your shoulders to keep away.

“Sweetheart, stop,” he muttered, “This ain’t right. We- we can’t. You’re… you’re vulnerable and- and young and- it ain’t right.”

“I don’t care,” you whispered and met his lips again.

With a single rock of your hips against his, he gasped and mumbled something against your mouth, a mix of a curse and a plea. But his hands went to your waist, lying right atop the waistband of your sleep shorts, holding onto you.

Your tongue slipped in between his lips and he groaned into your mouth as you explored the soft inside. Once again, you rolled your hips right over his crotch, his half hard cock stirring and twitching under you. A rumble in his chest vibrated against your pebbling nipples, only a few layers of cotton separating your bodies.

When he pulled away, his pupils were blown, almost completely covering the warm, brown irises.

“Say you don’t want me,” you requested, “Say it, and I’ll stop.”

His lips parted but not a single sound came out. He cleared his throat, fingers twitching at your sides.

“I do want you,” he assured, “But this- I don’t- it’s not right.”

“Joel. It feels right to me,” you pleaded, “Just… do this for me. Please… I want to feel you. I need to feel you.”

The flicker of reluctance in his eyes was extinguished when you pushed yourself closer to his chest and he captured your lips with his.

Your hands found their way into his hair, tugging at the roots while his nose mushed against yours. Teeth clashed into each other, spit messily framing both your mouths as his tongue dipped into your mouth.

He grew harder, his hips bucking up into you, his bulge straining against the material of his pants. Your fingers slipped under his shirt in no time, feeling the contrast of soft skin and hard muscles, littered with scars and rough patches. Joel felt like a tactile piece of art, bumps, valleys and indents mixing on his body.

Your own need became more apparent when you rocked into him again, your breath catching as your clit dragged across the seam of his pants. A mixture of pleasure and its constant companion, guilt, prickled across your skin.

“Please,” you whimpered against his lips, “Need you so badly, Joel.”

He groaned hungrily, his hands drifting down to cup your ass and he smoothed his palm across it.

“I got you,” he promised and shed the first layer. His shirt dropped to the floor, pooling on the linoleum like a sea of fabric.

You drank him in immediately, worshipping his body with soft kisses, starting at his torso. Before your administrations went too far south, he caught your chin.

“Hey, you don’t… you don’t gotta do that,” he pointed out, caressing your jaw with his thumb, “Just be here with me.”

He pulled you flush against his chest and cradled your face between his hands, then connected your lips with his. That kiss was softer but still hungry – intentional. With gentle hands, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and only pulled away from your lips to free you from your top. His eyes went round as they dragged over the expanse of exposed skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, awe tinting his voice.

Heat creeped into your cheeks and instead of a response, you kissed him once more.

He slowly removed the last layers of your clothes: your sleep shorts and panties. You almost felt like a present being unwrapped but a little voice in your head never relented. The more flesh you bared, the more you trembled.

Joel changed your positions and within moments, you found yourself underneath him, covered by his entire frame. He shimmied out of his pants and underwear, stripping away the last layer between the two of you.

His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach. He was flushed at the tip, a dark, angry red, aching, throbbing. Translucent pearls of precum spilled from his tip as he nudged himself between your thighs.

Your breath quickened while he slotted himself in place, then he met your eyes.

“You alright?” he wanted to know.

“Yeah,” you replied and wrapped your legs around his middle, pulling him in.

He never looked away as he slowly breached your folds, his bulbous head nudging at your opening. And that was where the trouble, your everlasting struggle, began.

You clenched at the intrusion, immediately cramping up.

Of course he noticed.

“Hey, you gotta relax a little f’me, honey,” Joel whispered tenderly.

Feeling like an absolute idiot, you nodded quickly and took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

He tutted softly and caressed your cheek.

“What did I say ‘bout all those apologies, hm?”

You chuckled wetly and exhaled.

“Yeah, I know,” you affirmed, “I’m- I’m ready.”

Joel watched you intently, a hint of doubt creeping into his expression.

“We can still stop, you know?” he mumbled and you knew he meant it.

“I don’t wanna stop,” you replied quietly.

He was assessing you – you knew that when he didn’t immediately try to push forward again. Instead, his eyes dragged over your face, taking in every movement.

“Tell me if you change your mind,” he implored gently.

You nodded curtly but he shook his head and went on, “Say it, sweetheart.”

“I’ll tell you if I change my mind,” you promised.

With that, he seemed satisfied and one of his hands came to lie on your thigh, spreading you a little further. He fed you the first inch of his cock, giving you time to adjust to the stretch. Slowly, he advanced deeper while his other hand swiped through your folds to gather your slick.

Once he started circling your clit, it became easier for him to slip into you, reducing the pressure and burn. You weren’t sure how much of the pain you felt originated from memories or from the actual penetration but it got much easier to bear as he kissed you again.

“Talk to me,” he urged, his words muffled against your lips.

“I’m okay,” you answered softly, “Please, move.”

He answered your plea by pulling out a few inches and then burying himself again. The thrust knocked the air from your lungs, your fingers finding purchase in the bedsheets. Joel groaned softly as his pelvis met yours.

“You feel so good, baby,” he praised, making your heart flutter, “So warm and goddamn tight.”

His words soothed your soul and you wanted to chase that praise. You found your mind slipping into a place you didn’t know if you could crawl out of but you didn’t stop yourself.

As he continued to draw tight circles on your pulsing bundle of nerves and filling you up with his length, you moaned freely. Your hand found his free one, pulling it up to your mouth to press a kiss against the fingers.

Then you placed it at the base of your throat. It could have been read as a suggestion, a mere idea but Joel recoiled, halting all movements.

His eyes, previously closed in pure bliss, flew open as he felt your pulse jumping under his fingers and he shook his head.

“Don’t- don’t ask me to do that,” he declared decidedly, his tone leaving no room for discussion. Still, you tried.

“Why not?” you questioned, “I want you to.”

“I don’t think you do. You’re asking for all the wrong reasons – not for yourself but because you think I want that,” he explained quietly, “And I’m not gonna do anything like that to you. I don’t wanna hurt you, even if you… if you’ve had different experiences.”

He cleared his throat, and the entire situation became painfully humiliating: his cock was still sheathed in you while your entire body heated up with embarrassment.

“Maybe-“ he began, “Maybe we should stop… we never should have – I never should have let it get that far and I – it just ain’t right.”

“No, no, please don’t stop,” you protested desperately, “Please, Joel, I don’t want to stop.”

He faltered as your hands reached for him, trying to keep him in place.

“Sweetheart,” he began, his voice so gentle and pleading, “You ain’t … you ain’t in the right place and I don’t think, I-“

“Please.”

You had never had to beg a man to fuck you, therefore the mortification got worse and worse as you heard your own pleading.

Joel sighed. “I don’t know, I- I can’t tell what you want and I don’t trust you to tell me the truth.”

He might as well have slapped you across the face – that would have hurt less than his words. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them and Joel inhaled sharply, realizing the weight of what he had said.

“Shit, I’m- I’m sorry, I… fuck.”

Before you knew what was happening, he pulled out and eased off the bed, reaching for his pants. His hands trembled and an expression you had only ever seen in the mirror contorted his face: self-hatred.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered, “God, I’m really fucking this up.”

And just as the echo of his words faded, he exited the room, leaving you emptier than you had ever felt.

Chapter 5: That we have a great promise, that there is a better place

Chapter Text

Seattle, WA

How long can two people go without talking to each other? Theoretically, the answer is forever.

Sure, being forced to share small spaces, like a truck or a motel room, makes the entire situation almost unbearably awkward but technically, you don’t need to communicate to get from point A to point B.

However, once you add variables such as mutual attraction, genuine need and a catastrophic argument, the answer changes.

Joel had not spoken a single word to you since that night in Columbia, the silence leaving you at the cruel hands of your own thoughts and Seattle crept closer with every mile of road put behind you.

He looked straight ahead, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel, as he maneuvered the car through the busy streets. Occasionally, you dared to glance at him, watching how his jaw ticked or his chest rose with quiet but heavy breaths.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it but something seemed off about him – something beyond the excruciatingly embarrassing memory of your failed attempt at sex. Joel was a stoic person through and through; rough edges, gruff words and strong headed opinions were his daily bread. But right now, he was just quiet, a mix of emotion brewing under his skin and you were almost sure that you were occupying the last place on his list of worries.

Even though you had only known him for a short time, something in you screamed that that whatever was going on with him had very little to do with you.

Your voice was rough from lack of use when you spoke up, your vocal cords feeling like sandpaper.

“Joel?”

He tensed immediately, whipping his head to your direction.

“Don’t,” he rasped, “Don’t talk. Don’t make it harder than it already is. We’re almost there.”

Your heart shattered. He was planning to drop you off, just anywhere in the middle of Seattle. Yes, originally that had been your plan; but right now, it just felt like threads that weaved your worst nightmare. He couldn’t abandon you – not like that.

“Joel,” you repeated, your voice cracking.

He shook his head, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

“Kid, I mean it,” he grumbled, “I’ll drop you off at a hotel, I’ll give you money for a few nights. Just shut your mouth and be grateful.”

“Please don’t leave me,” you whimpered, tears already stinging in your eyes, “Please- I need you.”

“No, you don’t!” His voice raised as he went on. “You just think you do. I’m not the kind of person you need, I’m- I’m not right for you and we both know that.”

“That’s not true,” you claimed tearfully but he shut you down immediately.

“Stop! Just stop talking. This is final.”

“Why can’t you handle the idea that maybe – just maybe – I actually like you?”

“Because you’re crying your eyes out over a man you met a week ago.”

“You saved my life!”

He chuckled humorlessly, wiping a hand across his face.

“Are you seriously that stupid? I didn’t save your life, I’m ruinin’ it with every minute that I’m next to you.”

Joel steered the car to the side of the road, hit the brakes and looked at you.

“Nothin’ good’s gonna come out of this. I can’t give you whatever you think you need,” he implored, his eyes never leaving your face.

“How do you know?” Another voice crack and more tears accompanied your words.

“Because no one’s ever benefitted from my goddamn presence. I ruin every good thing I touch, and you can still run away,” he muttered. Hopelessness etched into his face, and a certain kind of self-hatred that shook you to the bone.

“Joel, that just isn’t true,” you tried to argue, “You’re- you’re a kind man, a good man.”

He laughed barkingly.

“Why would you think that, huh?”

“Look at you,” you exclaimed, gesturing to his entirety, “You drove seven days with me, just to get me away from a situation you don’t fully understand but still you knew it was necessary. And you’re here to visit your daughter! Do you know how rare fathers like that are today?”

You expected any reaction, could have handled his disbelief, his laughing or even his anger. But none of that followed your words. Instead, Joel inhaled sharply, clutching at his chest while his eyes went glassy.

“God, you have no idea what you’re sayin’,” he whispered, “That ain’t your fault ‘cause I didn’t tell ya but-“

He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What?” you asked, now beyond confused. The tears had dried on your cheeks, leaving behind smudged lines under your eyes.

“I-,” he started, his voice trembling, “Sarah ain’t- Sarah ain’t at U-Dub. Not anymore at least.”

“I don’t understand,” you replied, “If she’s not at U-Dub… where is she?”

He breathed in shakily and gripped the wheel.

“I’ll show you.”

The graveyard was empty, save for a lonely old woman mumbling a prayer a few feet away. She didn’t look up when Joel walked past, you trailing right after him. He led you through the maze of massive stones, ranging from overgrown and dirtied to pristine and neatly decorated.

Joel had stopped shaking once the two of you walked up a small trail, the grass around you dry as the Sahara. You followed him to a small plot; a dried set of flowers, held together by a yellow ribbon sat atop the grave, the stone behind engraved with a name.

Sarah Miller

He came to a halt and kneeled down while you stood next to him, watching how his fingers drifted over the lifeless blossoms.

“I don’t come here as often as I should,” he muttered. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you, or himself, or maybe even Sarah, so you stayed silent until he glanced up at you.

“Why- why is she here and not in Texas?” you asked quietly, scared to disturb the peace of this place.

“She loved it here – in Seattle, I mean,” he replied, “Loved college, her friends, all that, you know? Didn’t- didn’t wanna take her from here.”

You nodded slowly and rested your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Joel.” The words were meaningless, you knew that, but there was nothing else to say. Nothing could or would ever ease his pain, the pain of losing his child. You saw it in his eyes, the tears he didn’t dare shed gleaming on his waterline.

He cleared his throat and straightened up to his full height. A faint breeze of wind picked up and tousled his hair, and you wanted to reach out, wanted to fix it for him but you didn’t dare.

“She- she passed just before her senior year,” he informed you, his eyes softening as he spoke, “She was so excited and had already applied for a million internships, tellin’ me all about it.”

His voice wavered a little and you reached for his hand. For a second, your fingers wrapped around his, squeezing softly while you felt his warmth seep into your skin. But then he pulled away. “No,” he whispered, almost pleaded, “Don’t. I’m not showin’ you this so you feel bad for me. I’m showin’ you this so you wake up. This – us – it’s never goin’ to work. I couldn’t even take care of my little girl, and I’m sure as hell not gonna try to replace her with you.”

You visibly flinched at his words, absorbing the shock of what he had said.

“I’m not trying to replace her,” you mumbled quietly.

“Maybe not,” he grunted, “But you sure as hell are tryin’ to find some kinda father figure in me. Yeah, maybe one you wanna screw around with, but I’m tellin’ ya, that ain’t gonna work for either of us.”

“Do you seriously think so low of me?”

“I do, yes! It ain’t your fault that your daddy messed ya up but you are old enough to know better now. And if you don’t, I do, for the both of us.”

Every word cut like a blade, the pure irritation in his eyes shrinking you down, peeling away at every layer of self-respect you had pretended to have.

“Can you not just fathom the idea that I might actually simply like you for you?” you bit back.

“No.” The word was cold and final, not allowing for any kind of back talk. He peered you down into the ground, fingers twitching and chest heaving with held back anger.

“So, that’s it?” you whispered, “You just gonna drop me off and we’ll never see each other again?”

“That’s the plan,” he rumbled, already setting back in motion to the graveyard’s exit. You didn’t move an inch, eyes darting between him and your own feet. Words were bubbling in your throat, ones you were sure to regret saying but you couldn’t hold back.

“You’re just scared,” you called after him and he stopped, his back still turned to you, “You’re scared to admit that I matter to you ‘cause you don’t wanna risk losing me. Cut the fucking bullshit, Joel. Don’t act like you don’t feel the same things as I do.”

For a few seconds, he just stood there, unmoving, before he suddenly turned around and walked up to you. It was impossible to read the look in his face but the anger would have been palpable from kilometers away. A part of you prepared yourself mentally for his hand connecting with your cheek, but it never came. Instead he came to a halt in front of you, his head tilting down to your level.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t get. None of what you just said, made me any more inclined to not just leave you here,” he growled, “You never use that sharp brain o’yours, girl. And you’re such a bright fuckin’ girl but you don’t understand-“

“Maybe I do,” you cut him off, “Maybe I’m the only fucking person left in this world who understands you because I’ve also never loved anyone who didn’t end up leaving.”

“You- you’re-“ he struggled for words and raised his arms into the air, pure frustration radiating off of him.

“Jesus, Joel, just try. Try to allow yourself some happiness,” you implored, “And don’t ruin my chance – maybe my only chance – at my own, just ‘cause you’re not brave enough to accept that me being in your life might be a good thing.

“You are 21 years old. You ain’t the person for me and I sure as hell ain’t the one for you,” he hissed.

“You sure about that? Who told you that?”

“My own fucking brain – I tend to use mine.”

“Joel, you can keep callin’ me stupid, I don’t give a shit. But you know damn well that your brain’s just as self-destructive as mine.”

His eyes widened before he narrowed them again, clenching his fists so tight his knuckles paled.

“So that’s what we are?” he grunted, “Two broken people tryin’ to fix each other?”

“I don’t fucking know- maybe we are, yeah,” you replied, your voice cracking on the last word.

Rain pattered against the car window as Seattle’s streets passed by in a blur. Joel had gone back to giving you the silent treatment after he had dragged you back to the truck, forcing you to sit down and then slamming the door hard enough for you to feel it in your teeth. You would have paid a million dollars to find out what was going on inside his head, as you watched how his fingers tightened around the wheel and loosened again.

Cold shock washed through you as he pulled into a street with a huge hotel nestled between a mall and a gym.

“You’re seriously leaving me here,” you muttered.

He turned off the ignition and stepped out, grunting, “C’mon.”

Joel carried your meager baggage and walked up the many stairs, you trailing close behind him. He didn’t look back once to check if you were following. Instead, he just pushed the doors open and you slipped in behind him, struggling to keep up with him as he advanced towards the reception.

“Room for one,” he barked out. The receptionist glanced at him, then at you and right back at him. “Would you want room service with that?” the guy asked sheepishly while punching in the details on his computer.

“No,” Joel replied quietly.

“Your room is on the third floor. Under what name should I list your reservation, sir?”

“Miller.”

Your eyebrows rose but you didn’t speak up, just kept watching Joel as he paid, collected the key and then you darted after him. He walked up to the elevator, pressed the button for the third floor and avoided your eyes stoically the entire ride up.

“What’s going on, Joel?” you questioned nervously, fidgeting with your hands behind your back.

“’m just makin’ sure you get your room. Then I’ll be on my way,” he murmured, still not meeting your glance.

The second the elevator doors split, he stepped out and you followed him. The hotel corridor was dimly lit, the clouds outside stealing every bit of sunlight that could have filtered in.

Joel almost stabbed the door to the room with your key, his hand maneuvering it into the lock with much more force than necessary. The hinges groaned a little when he pushed it open and walked inside.

For a few moments, you faltered in the hallway, glancing between the elevator and him. If you didn’t give him the chance to say his goodbyes, maybe he would chase you down and force you to listen to him. But there was also the potential for him just giving up on you and leaving you without whatever closure he thought he was providing you with.

So you moved over the door’s swell and looked around.

The room was simple, a double bed, a dresser and a small bathroom in the corner. Joel also glanced around, eyeing the mirror on the opposite wall to the bed with much more mistrust than necessary.

“Good room,” he concluded after staring down his own reflection for a solid minute. With a loud thud, he dropped your bag to the floor and then turned to face you for the first time since the graveyard.

“Joel?” you asked, “What- what are you doing here? I thought you were gonna… leave.”

He shook his head, not to contradict you but much rather in disbelief in his own actions.

“I don’t think I can,” he admitted.

“What? What do you mean?” you questioned, tilting your head in confusion. His emotional roller-coaster was giving you whiplash.

“Don’t make me say it,” he whispered and stepped closer. “Please don’t.”

“I… I-,” you stuttered, shrugging helplessly.

“Just… I don’t think I can leave you, no matter how much I want, and you know damn well why,” he confessed, cupping your face with his warm palms.

Then his lips crashed onto yours and suddenly, you didn’t need oxygen anymore, you just needed him. His tongue slipped into your mouth while his fingers raked through your hair, tugging slightly at the roots as he smushed your face with his own.

He steered you down and you collided with the wall, his hand protectively cradling the back of your head to ease the impact.

It took a few seconds for your brain to catch up with the situation, overwhelmed as a bubble of his smell enveloped you. But once it did, you kissed him back feverishly, pressing your hips forward to meet his.

He hissed slightly at the contact, the sound swallowed by your lips as you mouthed at his cupid’s bow. Without hesitance, his fingers traveled down from your head to your neck, then across your back, before they settled at the dip of your waist.

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he murmured against your lips, “I swear, nothin’ in my life makes sense anymore now that I know you. I don’t make sense.”

Then his mouth was back on yours, devouring you like a starved animal. You tasted the mix of him, saliva tinted with never fading nicotine and whichever flavor was just Joel’s own.

His teeth caught your lower lip and tugged at them, a small whine falling from your lips as the mix of pain and pleasure radiated from the action. He muffled the sound by pressing you further against the wall, his palms coming to rest on the back of your thighs. As if you were feather light, he holstered you up, never breaking away from you and you wrapped your legs around his middle.

Your own hands found their way onto the back of his neck, interlocking there. The short strands there were still damp from the rain as you played with them while you rocked against him.

Joel groaned when he felt your hips meeting his in a never-ending rhythm.

“Jesus, girl, you tryna kill me?” he wondered out loud, barely removing his mouth from yours to talk.

Instead of answering, you just rolled your pelvis again while simultaneously pressing your lips against his jaw, a hot trail of kisses leading down.

“Christ,” he grunted, baring more of his neck.

You were proud to leave behind a small, red mark which would fade into purple soon enough. Once you released his skin, he palmed your ass and squeezed at the flesh. He stumbled slightly as he carried you to the bed, the haze of lust and pure emotion making it hard for him not to bump into the room’s sparse furniture.

Once his knees hit the frame, he dropped you onto the mattress and his body followed immediately, covering you underneath him.

“You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me,” he mumbled and to truly underline his words, he pressed himself against your thigh. You felt his cock pulsing under the jeans, hard and begging to be freed.

The state of your panties was its own mess, thoroughly worsened by the second heartbeat thumping between your legs as you messily made out.

Once there was enough of his saliva in your mouth to confuse a DNA test, you reached for the beltloops of his pants, already undoing the button and zipper. Joel held back another groan and went to work on your shirt.

When the room’s flooring was decorated with various articles of clothing, the seriousness of the situation hit the both of you.

“We can stop,” his breathing was labored as he reminded you, “We can always stop, no matter what.”

“I don’t wanna stop,” you replied, equally breathless.

He nodded slowly and then cupped your face. “Alright,” he mumbled and kissed you much gentler, but no less hungry.

Goosebumps raised across the entirety of your body when he tenderly parted your legs while pressing a soft kiss to the column of your throat. He slotted himself between your thighs and met your eyes.

“You ready?” he asked calmly, even though his hands shook with restraint.

“Yes,” you answered, already awaiting him.

As always, the first push was intense for you. In an instant, you felt your muscles locking up but he just simply kissed you and waited, then advanced further once you relaxed under him.

“I’ve got you,” he muttered calmingly and you utterly trusted him to mean every single word.

Once your body got used to the sensation of him, he carefully began to rock his hips back and forth, every thrust starting an avalanche of neediness as pleasure rolled through you. He groaned as his cock disappeared in you, a sound so heavenly you wanted to remember it forever.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you moaned, “Joel.”

He sped up a little, motivated by the way your lips formed his name. His fingers slid to where the two of you met and found your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves with lightly drawn circles.

Your hips twitched but he pressed them down with his own, keeping you in place beneath him.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he praised and trailed his lips over the dip of your collarbone. His teeth sunk into the flesh above, softly so that he wouldn’t break the skin. His tongue followed immediately to sooth away the pain.

Then he moved his hips again, inching in deep enough to hit a spot your own fingers had never met. Your eyes rolled back and for a second, you swore you saw stars.

“You’re takin’ me so well, darlin’,” he muttered, “Such a good girl.”

The movement of his fingers across your clit became more frantic, applying more pressure.

“Wanna feel you cum,” he demanded and you quivered, the warmth spreading from your core to the tips of your fingers. He moved faster, holding you in place with one hand sprawled across your belly.

Once he pressed down to feel himself, to feel how deeply he was lodged in you, you whimpered with pure neediness, a faint burn broadening under your skin.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he commented approvingly, “Just like that. Be a good girl f’me.”

The slick dripped down between your thighs while he rutted into you, creamy liquid drenching the bed’s covers.

“C’mon, darlin’,” he encouraged, “Wanna hear every sound you can make.”

He punctuated that statement by slamming a little harder into you and your entire body lifted off the bed, followed by a sharp moan.

“God, Joel,” you gasped, “Oh, fuck-“

Sweat beaded off his brows as he leaned down, his tongue dragging up between the swell of your breasts.

“Feel like heaven, taste like heaven,” he murmured, “Darlin’, I think you might be heaven.”

You shattered, every muscle tensing up as liquid relief warmed you to the bone. He whined when you clenched around his cock, allowing his to feel every spasm and twitch. His name broke forth from your lips and he shuddered.

“Goddamnit,” he exclaimed, his hand gripping you tighter as your orgasm ebbed down and his rhythm sped up, now chasing his own.

The snap his hips had the bed shaking, the frame creaking ever so slightly but it was all drowned out by the rush of blood through your ears. You were in your own bubble of bliss, another release building up way too quickly and he felt it.

“You gonna cum again? For me?” he teased, but the words came out breathy, almost desperate.

“Alright, sweet girl.” His fingers circled your clit again, and the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm still lingered, making you writhe under him.

“Where you goin’, darlin’? Hmm?”

He pinned you under him and drilled even faster into you, the obscene sounds of your wetness echoing through the room.

“Joel, I-,” you barely managed to build a whole sentence as pure lust had you rutting back against him despite the growing fatigue already slowing your movements.

“I know, I know,” he soothed. Still, his fingers didn’t relent, those large digits prodding at your clit, sending limitless amounts of pleasure through your body that had you screaming out his name.

Once your second orgasm washed through you, he followed almost instantly, folding under the tight pressure of your walls clenching around him. He buried himself to the hilt and sputtered a string of curses as he spilled into you.

Your mixed, dewy juices seeped from you before he even pulled out, still sheathed in you, both of you shuddering with aftershocks.

Sweat mingled; that fresh, not yet soured body odor that screamed sex lingered in the air as he crumbled on top of you.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “I don’t know why I ever wanted to leave ya.”

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Lastgrrrlonearth, isimplyamnothere, pinkconstellation, neapolitan_girl, knucklevelvt, LunaLover711, L1LL13, Annikazfk, thexsharpestlives, nourmiller, Babyzulu, OperationJonsa, duckgrad_ang, Trashythrashy, skcc_11, and Agneska as well as 5 guests left kudos on this work!

Comments

Agneska on Chapter 1 Sat 30 Aug 2025 12:47PM UTC

💚💚💚💚💚

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1. misslalala on Chapter 1 Sun 31 Aug 2025 09:51AM UTC
  
  thank youuuuu
  
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CharlieonafridayButImADawg on Chapter 1 Sat 30 Aug 2025 06:13PM UTC

Hello! If you don’t mind me asking is this game Joel or tv Joel?

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1. misslalala on Chapter 1 Sun 31 Aug 2025 09:52AM UTC
  
  hi! this is not necessarily specified, i think it works with both of them but i did mainly write it with tv joel in mind :)
  
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Trashythrashy on Chapter 1 Mon 01 Sep 2025 07:45AM UTC

Joel miller is the reason im not a complete lesbian

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1. misslalala on Chapter 1 Mon 01 Sep 2025 10:42AM UTC
  
  that is so real of you xx
  
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Trashythrashy on Chapter 1 Mon 01 Sep 2025 09:21AM UTC

WRITE ANOTHER CHAPTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER

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1. misslalala on Chapter 1 Mon 01 Sep 2025 10:42AM UTC
  
  just posted it ♡
  
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curiouslykate (Guest) on Chapter 1 Fri 19 Sep 2025 08:33AM UTC

Is this AI?

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1. misslalala on Chapter 1 Fri 19 Sep 2025 08:35AM UTC
  
  no :( why would you think that?
  
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Agneska on Chapter 2 Mon 01 Sep 2025 10:48AM UTC

💚💚💚💚

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1. misslalala on Chapter 2 Tue 09 Sep 2025 07:12AM UTC
  
  ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
  
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Trashythrashy on Chapter 2 Mon 08 Sep 2025 06:50AM UTC

THIS IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

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1. misslalala on Chapter 2 Tue 09 Sep 2025 07:13AM UTC
  
  thank youuuuu sooooooooooooooooooo much ♡
  
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Trashythrashy on Chapter 3 Mon 08 Sep 2025 06:56AM UTC

PEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK

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Trashythrashy on Chapter 3 Mon 08 Sep 2025 06:56AM UTC

THIS IS MY NEW FAV FIC EVEEEEEEER

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1. misslalala on Chapter 3 Tue 09 Sep 2025 07:13AM UTC
  
  you are the sweetest!!! thank you so much ♡ chapter four will be up in a few minutes ♡
  
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Agneska on Chapter 4 Tue 09 Sep 2025 07:32AM UTC

Thank you for the new chapter. 💚

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1. misslalala on Chapter 4 Fri 12 Sep 2025 08:50AM UTC
  
  you are very welcome ♡ thank you for your comment!!!
  
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knucklevelvt on Chapter 5 Fri 19 Sep 2025 08:32AM UTC

THATS IT?

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1. misslalala on Chapter 5 Fri 19 Sep 2025 08:36AM UTC
  
  yes this is the final chapter xx
  
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