#preacher!jamie

[jcbbby]

Preacher's Girl

OKAY FIRST OF ALL, don't fucking look at me right now (especially if you're Jamie...) I know I will not see the gates of heaven for this. anyway... hello, it has been a minute since I wrote a thing. this is a fic centered on Jamie's Preacher character from the I Am music video. and I'm just gonna leave it at that. also this is not proofread!

warnings: 18+ ONLY I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL BLOCK YOU DNI, preacher!Jamie x oc, p in v, unprotected sex (DON'T do it), religious imagery and themes, breeding kink if you squint sort of, also kind of a slow burn at first?

***** Cicadas droned outside through the open windows, loud enough to cut through the sound of the quiet chatter amongst the crowd mixed with the whipping of the little old ladies fluttering their hand fans. Ivy stared out of the open window of the sweltering church, trying to zone out to forget where she was. On the eager request of her grandparents and the encouragement of her mother, she agreed to spend the summer with them in their rural Alabama town. It was a much different pace of life out here compared to the bustling city life she was used to.

Her grandparents were old-fashioned, and very religious; something she never seemed to inherit. Her mother had moved out to the east coast to get away from that culture, opting for a more exciting and open-minded life. So, when she seemed to agree that a summer away in the quiet southern state would be good for Ivy, she was shocked.

“It will give you some nice perspective!” She said. “Plus, your grandparents won’t be here forever, you should cherish the time you have left with them.”

Her mother wasn’t wrong, but that did little to ignite any semblance of excitement over the thought. What was there to do in rural Alabama for a young woman from the city? Still, with her sweet old Nana and Pop eager to host their darling granddaughter, she begrudgingly said yes, soon finding herself in the sticky, thick, hazy summer air of the south. Arriving on a Saturday, of course their plan was to get an early night in so they could introduce her to everyone at their church in the morning.

The church must have had been built in the 1800s, still lacking almost all modern features. No air conditioning, no bathrooms, and no modern technology, save for a single microphone at the podium, connected to a small PA speaker. Ivy fanned herself with her hand, glancing around to survey the audience while her grandparents conversed with an older couple in front of them in the first row of pews. As she looked around, a hush fell over, and gazes shifted to the front of the church. She snapped her head in the direction of the crowd, a tall, dark figure emerging from the side of the slightly raised stage.

He stepped up to the podium, placing his hands over either side of the edge, clearing his throat before glancing down and taking a breath. He was surprisingly younger than Ivy was expecting and stood tall and slim. His golden chin-length hair neatly descended from under a large brim black hat. He wore a very fitted three-piece black suit and white button-up dress shirt. As he looked out over the crowd of parishioners, he smiled warmly, letting the skin around his eyes crinkling perfectly into what reminded Ivy of sun rays.

“Good morning, everyone.” He spoke in a deep, warm voice. “Thank you for being here with me today. Let us begin.”

Ivy stared in awe. He was breathtaking. She straightened up in her seat as he began speaking his gospel. His words filled the heavy air of the church and she found herself feeling stuck in his honey smooth voice, hanging on to each word he uttered. Never in her life would she have thought she would find herself paying such close attention to a church sermon.

He moved his gaze in her direction, momentarily locking eyes with her as she felt her cheeks grow hot. Ivy shifted in her seat, darting her eyes down to his shoes. When she dared to glance back up, he was still looking directly at her. He flashed a gentle smirk to her before breaking away. Ivy let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, feeling a shiver run throughout her body. There was something somewhat devious about that smirk. Maybe there would be some excitement this summer in this dirt road town.

*****

Once the service had ended, the church was hosting a start of the summer lunch reception at the community center just down the road. Of course, Ivy’s grandparents were keen to go. This was a town where everyone knew everyone, community events were obligatory at best. She let out a sigh of relief upon walking through the double metal doors of the community center, feeling the breeze of air conditioning hitting her damp face. She followed closely behind her grandparents as they made their way to the table of various foods, mostly homemade.

“I’m going to just go get us a table, I’m not that hungry.” Ivy tapped her grandmother’s shoulder.

“Oh, honey bee, you really oughtta eat something or else you’ll get sick! Here, you’ve got to try Darlene’s biscuits at least!” She handed Ivy a dense golden biscuit.

“Oh…okay, thanks nana.” Ivy forced a smiled before turning to take stock of open seats.

As she sat down, she looked around the large room, hoping to spot the preacher who had her so enamored. She scanned the perimeter, eyes narrowing.

“Well, it seems we have a visitor today.” An oaky voice came from behind her. She turned to see him standing there, the preacher, towering over her. “May I?” He gestured to the seat next to her.

“Of course.” She smiled politely.

He took off his hat, placing it gently on the table in front of him. He smoothed back his hair with one hand, looking to Ivy to reveal his enchanting ice blue eyes.

“Does our visitor have a name?” He smiled.

“I’m Ivy. Uh, I’m Dale and Irene’s granddaughter.” She returned the polite smile, hoping he didn’t notice the quick up and down she gave him or the rosy tint to her cheeks.

“Oh, how nice. Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Jamie, just Jamie, I don’t do the fancy clergy title. Pleasure to meet you.” He winked, extending his hand out to her.

“Nice to meet you too.” She met his hand with hers.

“Oh, good! You’ve met Jamie!” Ivy’s grandmother set her plate down on the table, sinking down into her seat.

“Hello Irene, lovely to see you.” He smiled. “Dale.” He nodded and reached to shake his hand as well. “I was just telling Ivy here that I had heard so much about her from you two, it’s nice to finally meet her.” He looked back to Ivy with a grin.

“Oh, well we’re just so happy to have her here. She’s staying for the summer with us.” Irene beamed.

“Is that so?” Jamie’s voice lilted. “Well, it will be so great to see another pretty face around town for a while.” He winked, facing Ivy so the elder couple wouldn’t notice. Ivy’s heart thumped against her chest. “Well, I’ll let you all be, I’m sure you’ve got things to catch up on. Great to have you with us, Miss Ivy.” Jamie reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips to give a gentle kiss.

“Uh…just Ivy.” She grinned. “Y-yes. It’s great to be here. Thank you.”

Jamie picked up his hat from the table, setting back on his head. He gave Ivy one final look before turning to greet those at the next table over. Ivy bit her lip as she glanced at the hand he had kissed, taking in a breath. His charm was unrelenting, and it knocked the wind clear out of her. She stared, thoughts racing through her mind, as he greeted some other parishioners. Her grandfather’s voice managed to pull her out of her trance, her attention snapping back to the elder.

“Such a nice fella, that one. All the folks around here love him.” Her grandfather said through a mouthful of food. “We were a little wary when he came to replace old Father Wilkins after he died, what with him being so young and all. But I gotta say he’s a real man of faith.”

“How long has he been in town?” Ivy asked.

“Oh I’d say about a year or so now. Said he came from the west, out in the desert, I think. The town’s really taken to him though, you’d think he was a southern boy from the start if it wasn’t for that accent.” He took another bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, he seems…really friendly.” Ivy turned to look at him conversing with a couple, not much older than she was. She certainly wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but part of her wondered just how friendly he could get.

*****

Over the following few weeks, Ivy found herself looking forward to Sunday services. Each time she attended church, her eyes would seek out Jamie, and he would reciprocate with small glances and smiles. The innocent exchanges gave her butterflies, and she often caught herself daydreaming about him during the weekdays. Perhaps riding around in the old beat-up truck he drove around, windows down, hands intertwined over the center console; relaxing in the shade under the willow tree down by the pond behind the old mill.

But some nights, alone in her room after her grandparents had gone to sleep, she found herself even fantasizing about Jamie. Though she wasn’t religious herself, there was something so guilty about thinking of a man of the church in this way. He was probably pure, saving himself for marriage. Still, Ivy couldn’t help but sense something hidden under his holy exterior. There was something hidden, and the intrigue consumed her.

The two hadn’t shared more than a few cordial words each weekend, between the glances, though. She was beginning to wonder if she had just been completely misreading things through the rose-colored glasses of her own desires.

One Sunday after the service, Jamie stood in the doorway of the church bidding his congregation goodbye as they shuffled out into the bright midday humidity.

“Irene, Dale, Ivy.” He smiled and nodded politely as they passed by him. “Oh, Ivy!” He followed.

“Yes?” She replied, stopping to turn around.

“I’m wondering if you might be interested in volunteering for the end of summer fair that we’re putting on for the kids next weekend. We could really use an extra set of hands, if you’re able.” He smiled.

“Oh, how fun! Ivy would love to help out, wouldn’t you honey bee?!” Irene excitedly grabbed her arm.

Ivy looked between Irene and Jamie. “Uh…yeah, sure. I can help.” She pushed a smile.

Jamie stood up straighter, flashing a toothy grin. “Wonderful. It’s appreciated. We’re having a volunteer meeting with everyone helping on Wednesday night at 7pm, if you can make it.”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll be there.”

He tipped his hat to her. “See you then.”

While Ivy somewhat begrudgingly agreed, she was excited at the opportunity to spend more time with the intriguing preacher during her final week here. She didn’t expect much, but at least she would be able to be around him, drinking in the sight of his tall figure and wonderfully sculpted face.

*****

The Wednesday meeting arrived, going as one would typically expect. The logistics and volunteer duties and assignments were discussed, the timeline, a question-and-answer portion. Jamie dismissed the volunteers, thanking them for their time commitment and willingness to assist.

“Ivy, would you mind hanging back a minute. There’s something I forgot to go over with you.” Jamie called out from his seat as the small group filed down the aisle.

Ivy turned around, letting a few others walk by her on either side. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit.” Jamie gestured to the pew in front of him.

She complied, coming to sit down. As the last person went out the door, it closed behind them with a click that echoed throughout the room. Jamie got up from his chair on the platform, coming down to the pew where Ivy sat and sitting beside her. She felt her breathing pick up slightly, his cologne enveloping the air around her.

Jamie turned to her. “Ivy, I’ve noticed something has been weighing on you.”

Her stomach dropped. He had noticed the way she had been looking at him and the blushing when he glanced back at her after all. She felt his hand rest on her thigh, drawing her out of her own mind and thoughts. She looked down to her lap and then back up to him. His eyes were dark and suggestive.

“Have you had…sinful thoughts?” He asked calmly.

Swallowing hard, Ivy paused, opening her mouth to speak but having no earthly idea of how to respond. She resolved to a shallow nod, darting her eyes anywhere but to his, unsure of how honest she could be with him. Her mind reeled, caught between the boundaries of his position and her own suppressed desires. Jamie nodded back to her, looking forward and letting his gaze wander.

“I have to admit…” He turned his gaze now to her. “I have too.”

Ivy’s heart was in her throat. “Oh?” Was all she could manage to squeak out, the warmth of his hand still radiating through the fabric of her sundress. He leaned in closer to her, his breath brushing against her earlobe.

“Will you hear my confession?” He whispered.

She turned to him, their faces mere centimeters from each other. “Y-yes…”

He met her eyes with his own. “Those thoughts have been about you.” He said in a hushed tone, his thumb beginning to caress where it rested on her thigh.

A mix of shock and excitement washed over Ivy, burning itself all the way down to her core. She hadn't expected him to be so candid and so forward. She found herself still speechless, never having thought her desires would be equally reciprocated. After a beat, she found her voice.

"Is...is that even allowed?" She whispered, concerned about a faith she didn't even fully understand. “I thought that god-“

"Do you even believe in god?" Jamie interrupted, his tone genuine.

Ivy hesitated before admitting, "No, I don’t…"

Jamie smirked. "Then don't worry about it." He said, leaning closer, his other hand coming to grip her chin. "You don't have to pretend to be so innocent then, do you, my little lamb?"

“I…” She started to reply before his hand on her thigh ventured deeper between her legs. Her breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the panties that were already wet with her neediness.

“What, you what?” He cooed, still holding her chin tightly with his other hand, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“I…” She breathed. “I want you to touch me. Please.”

She felt his lips crash against hers, like a man starved. He released her chin, slinking his hand around her neck and up the back of her head. She quickly adjusted herself, swinging her leg over his to sit on his lap, straddling him.

“Not so timid anymore it seems.” Jamie pulled back, smirking.

“I just said I don’t believe in god, I’m going to hell anyway, I might as well enjoy myself along the way.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I can give you something to believe in.” In a swift motion, Jamie slipped his hands under Ivy’s thighs, lifting her up as he stood up.

He walked them both towards the platform, stepping up, and pressing her back against the wall, just under a large wooden cross. Her legs stayed wrapped around his waist, hands rustling through his golden hair. His lips furiously pressed against hers, tongue and teeth coming together in a raw passion. His mouth ventured down to her neck, nipping and suckling just under her ear as Ivy let out a gentle whimper. She felt his length hardening against her inner thigh, making her need for him grow stronger.

“Are you gonna fuck me right here under this cross?” She breathed.

Jamie abruptly stopped, pulling back to look her in the eye. He let her legs fall individually and took half a step back. Ivy furrowed her brow, confused. She wondered if he had suddenly had a change of heart, or if he realized how sacrilegious this all was.

“Hey.” He said sternly. “We’re in a church. You should know you can’t use that language in the house of the lord.”

“Oh, uh-“

“You know you have to be punished.” He smirked wickedly, stepping backward again.

Ivy’s blood pumped furiously through her veins, excitement overtaking her. This was undoubtedly so wrong, but so thrilling. He glanced to the lectern, where a thick bible sat neatly on top. He took it in his hand, turning back to Ivy. He pulled the chair on the platform closer to him, taking a seat and patting his lap.

“Come on.” He gestured. “Bend over, take your punishment.”

Ivy hesitantly made her way over to Jamie, slowly sinking herself lower and folding herself over his lap. Her breath was heavy, anticipating. He cleared his throat and reached for the hem of her dress, sliding it slowly upwards, fully revealing her light pink panties. He neatly folded the fabric at the small of her back, gently smoothing it out with minimal pressure.

“Now…” He sighed.

He drew back the hand holding the bible, and with a swift flick of his wrist, the leather-bound cover made sharp, unforgiving contact with Ivy’s supple backside. She let out a shrill yelp as it came down on her flesh, knowing full well this would leave a mark. Without missing a beat, Jamie pulled back and delivered another hard whack to her. Her shriek echoed off the walls of the empty church, this rap stinging worse than the first one on her already red skin. Tears began to well in the corner of her eyes.

“P-please…I’m sorry.” She whimpered softly.

“What was that, my little lamb?” He reached with his other hand to softly stroke her hair, countered quickly with a third strike of the bible.

Ivy tensed up over his lap, crying out again. “I’m sorry!”

Jamie continued petting her head, now resting his other hand and the book on her back. He leaned down closer to her ear, smiling softly. “Will you be good for me now?”

Ivy took in a shattered breath. “Yes... Yes, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Good girl.” Jamie whispered. “Now, sit up…”

Ivy did as she was told, peeling her torso off his lap only to swing her leg over and straddle him once again. She sniffled lightly as she looked at him directly again, eyes still slightly glossy from her punishment. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“To answer your question from before…” He began. “Yes, I am going to fuck you right here under this cross. I am going to show god that you’re mine.”

Before Ivy could respond, his lips were already pressing hungrily into hers. He began to trail down her jaw and on to her neck, suckling hard enough to make sure he would leave his mark. She reached between both of their bodies, undoing the button and zipper of his pants just enough to free his hardened length. She took him in her hand and stroked him slowly, a low groan emanating from his throat. His hot breath against her skin made her already desperate core throb, she felt as though she could combust at any moment.

With his lips still exploring her neck and collarbone, he moved to quickly lower the straps of her dress, letting them fall to her elbows. He tugged at the top hem of the dress, letting her chest reveal itself, spilling out over the fabric. His mouth made quick work of enveloping her nipple in its warmth, drawing out a pleasured sigh from Ivy. She began to grind against his thigh, hoping for some sense of relief.

“Come on, then.” She breathed. “Make me yours. Take me.”

Jamie let out a breathy chuckle, removing her hands from his cock, slipping his hands under her dress and under the elastic of her panties. She rested her wrists on his shoulders, staring down as he pushed the fabric aside, gently pushing her upward to angle his tip at her entrance. She gasped as she sunk down slowly, feeling the stretch of him inside. He let out a groan as Ivy now fully enveloped in, her weight fully back on his lap. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his briefly before closing the gap between their lips. Her hips rocked forward, his hands gripping her hips to help her along. Suddenly, he pulled back.

“Say it, before god, say that you’re mine.” He growled, rocking his hips in rhythm with hers. “I don’t care what you believe in, you’re going to believe in me. Say it.”

“I-I’m yours!” Ivy mewled. “I’m yours.” She fell forward against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Yeah, you’re my good girl. My good girl.” He growled again into her neck.

The two of them clung to each other, the space around them filled with their moans and breathing, the aggressive creaking of the wooden chair they were occupying. If the church hadn’t been the only building on its acre of land, someone would have heard them through the open windows.

A gentle breeze made its way through the large hall, raising goosebumps across their sticky, shiny skin, covered in the humid dew of the south. Their movements were in perfect sync, each one locked into the other’s body, as if they were a symbiotic pair; as if they were to lose contact, their bodies would shrivel up and wither away into the wind.

“Look at me.” Jamie whispered. “I want you to look at me as I finish in you. As I claim you.”

Ivy pulled back to look at him, arching her back as she did. “Yes, Jamie…please…let god know I’m yours.” She sighed, digging her nails into his shoulders.

His thrusts became more haphazard, and his grunts frequent. Ivy rolled her hips along with him, the pressure building throughout her core, sensing the euphoria just over the horizon. As if it were a divine purpose, she slipped over the edge just as Jamie spilled out inside her. Ivy fell forward again, burying her face in his neck as she rode out her high, as Jamie wrapped his arms tightly around her. They slowly came to a still, only the sound of their heavy breathing and birds singing outside the church walls filling their ears along with low ringing.

As their senses came back to them, they relaxed their hold on the other. Ivy pulled back from the crook of Jamie’s neck, smoothing her damp hair out of her face. He smiled softly up at her, taking her chin in his hand again, only this time pulling her tenderly toward him to place a gentle kiss to her lips.

“How are you doing, little lamb?” He asked sweetly, his voice no longer gruff and demanding, but kind and warm.

“I’m…feeling saved.” She smiled.

He chuckled lightly as he caressed her cheek. “Oh, is that all it takes?”

Ivy slid herself off his lap, letting him tuck himself back in to his trousers. “You said you’d make a believer out of me. I definitely believe in a lot more than I did before I came here.” She winked.

“Well…you have a few days left here. I can certainly give you a lot more to believe in, darling.” He smirked at her as he stood up, reaching out his hand, silently asking for hers.

Ivy smiled, glancing between his eyes and his hand.

“I’m all yours.”

[dancingwiththedevilallnight]

Can someone please write a smutty fic about priest!jamie based on the song church by chase Atlantic pleaseee I’m begging youuu

[unnamedmedicalprofessional]

Average tumblr user who really hates Supernatural, Sherlock, Hamilton, Steven Universe, Homestuck etc

[daughterofcainandchaos]

in my mind, that creepy voice from ptolemaea and stranger things' vecna exist in the same universe. and not only that - they're also besties (maybe even lovers)

[solemntitty]

state appointed Jesus dream still haunts me, what the fuck was that about

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 3

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦"

summary: After the incident, where past traumas resurface and threaten to unravel your fragile sense of security, Joel steps in as a protector. His presence becomes a beacon of comfort amidst the chaos.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 3

masterlist of the series!

Previous | chapter 2

Next | chapter 4

The night when Jamie took your virginity by force felt like the moment the light within you was extinguished. It was as if the divine spark that once illuminated your soul was snuffed out, leaving behind a darkness that clung to you like a second skin. The purity you had cherished as a good Christian girl was shattered, and in its place, you felt an overwhelming sense of dirtiness. It was as if you had been marked, branded with an invisible scarlet letter that only you could see, yet you believed everyone else could see it too.

The past two months had been a relentless descent into a personal hell. You had become a ghost of your former self, your once vibrant spirit now a flickering ember. Physically, you were a shadow, your body wasting away as if your soul’s torment had seeped into your flesh. The weight of your violation bore down on you, leaving you with no desire to eat, to engage, to exist. Every day was a struggle against the ever-present feeling of disgust, the conviction that you were tainted beyond redemption.

In the eyes of others, you felt exposed, as if the sin of that night was etched into your very being. It was as if the words “dirty slut” were emblazoned across your skin, a silent condemnation that followed you everywhere. No matter where you went, the eyes of judgment seemed to follow, their silent accusations piercing your already wounded soul.

At school, you had withdrawn into yourself, a stark contrast to the lively girl you once were. You spoke to no one, even when you went to church, you avoiding Ellie, Tommy, and Maria. After class, you would rush home, seeking refuge in the solitude that had become both your sanctuary and your prison. Only Joel knew the truth of what had happened that night, and he had been your anchor in the storm.

After that night, you stayed at Joel’s. He had been nothing but gentle, his touch a stark contrast to the violence you had endured. He cleaned you up, gave you a bath, and ensured your privacy by standing near the tub with the curtain drawn, only intervening if you needed something. The care he showed you was the kind of protection you had longed for all your life. His presence was a balm to your wounded spirit, his protectiveness a shield against the darkness that threatened to consume you.

The morning after, you insisted on walking home, despite Joel’s offer to drive you. Your house was nearby, but in your daze, you had forgotten to inform your parents where you had been. As you walked through the front door, your father’s fury was immediate. "Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice a thunderous roar. "You didn’t tell us you were staying out. Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"I stayed at Ellie’s," you lied, your voice barely above a whisper. "If you don’t believe me, you can call Joel."

Without hesitation, your father dialed Joel’s number. You stood there, heart pounding, as Joel answered. "Yes, she stayed with Ellie here last night," Joel confirmed, his voice steady. He kept his promise not to reveal the incident with Jamie, but your father’s anger was far from assuaged.

"Even so," your father raged, "you didn’t inform us. What’s next? You’ll become a whore, wandering the streets? Is that what you want?" His words cut deep, each one a dagger plunging into your already shattered heart. He berated you about the virtues of Christianity, reminding you of the sanctity of purity and obedience.

"You need to understand the importance of your faith," he lectured, his voice a relentless drone. "You must remain pure and obedient, not fall into sin like this."

You stood there, numb, the weight of his words adding to the already unbearable burden on your shoulders. The guilt and shame threatened to overwhelm you. Every word felt like another chain, binding you in your own personal hell.

"Take off your shirt and face the wall," your father ordered, his voice cold and commanding.

With trembling hands, you did as he said, the shirt you borrowed from Ellie slipping to the floor. You turned to the wall, feeling the roughness of the paint against your skin, a stark contrast to the softness you craved. Your father took his belt, the leather a familiar implement of punishment, and began to strike.

Each lash was a searing reminder of your perceived sins, each word of his condemnation a nail in the coffin of your spirit. "This is for your disobedience," he spat, the belt cracking against your skin. "This is for the whore you’re becoming."

You bit back your cries, the tears streaming down your face silently. You were too exhausted to scream, too broken to protest. The pain was overwhelming, but it felt deserved. In your mind, this was God’s punishment for your unholiness, a penance for the dirtiness you couldn’t wash away.

Your mother watched from the doorway, her eyes filled with helplessness. She didn’t intervene, just as she never had. Instead, she retreated to the living room, turning up the volume on the gospel music to drown out the sound of your father’s anger and your silent suffering.

With each strike, you closed your eyes, the pain coursing through you like fire. You envisioned yourself as a fallen angel, wings torn and bloodied, cast out from the grace you once knew. The purity you had cherished was gone, replaced by a deep, unending shame.

When it was over, you collapsed to the floor, your body trembling with the aftershocks of pain. You felt like a martyr, bearing the weight of your father’s righteousness, the gospel music a cruel hymn to your suffering. You were unworthy, unholy, and the punishment was your penance.

As you lay there, tears mingling with the cold floor, you prayed. Not for forgiveness, but for strength. "God, if You’re listening, help me endure this. Help me find a way to survive." Your prayer was a whisper in the storm, a desperate plea from a soul that had known too much darkness.

In that moment, you understood the depth of your isolation. Your purity was gone, your light extinguished, but a spark of defiance remained. You had survived this night, just as you had survived Jamie. And somehow, you would find a way to keep surviving, to reclaim the light that had been stolen from you.

***

The days that followed were a blur of silence and shadows. You moved through the house like a ghost, your presence barely acknowledged by your parents. Your father’s words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of your perceived worthlessness. Every glance in the mirror revealed the invisible brand of shame you felt etched into your skin. You had become a stranger to yourself, lost in a labyrinth of guilt and self-loathing.

At school, you withdrew further into yourself, avoiding everyone’s gaze. Ellie noticed your absence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. The weight of your secret was too heavy to share, the fear of judgment too great. You walked the halls with your head down, each step a reminder of the burden you carried.

A month had gone by, and now it was Sunday. The weight of another church service loomed over you. You had managed to somewhat regain a semblance of normalcy, but the shadows of that night continued to haunt you. Despite the slight improvement, you had been avoiding everyone, including Joel. His calls went unanswered, and you took alternate routes to avoid passing his house. The shame you felt was overwhelming. You had developed feelings for Joel, but you believed he would never want you now that you felt so dirty.

Joel, on the other hand, was deeply worried about you. His concern grew with each passing day. He would occasionally ask Tommy if he had seen you at church, but Tommy’s answers never provided the comfort Joel sought.

The night before Sunday, Joel decided to visit Tommy and Maria with Ellie, hoping to have a casual movie night. He needed an excuse to ask about you without raising suspicions.

As they settled in the living room, Tommy was setting up the movie. Joel took a seat next to him, glancing around at the familiar surroundings. Ellie and Maria were chatting in the kitchen, preparing snacks.

"So, how’ve things been?" Joel asked, trying to keep his tone light. "Busy with the kid, I bet."

Tommy chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, you know how it is. Little one keeps us on our toes. What about you? How's work been?"

"Same old, same old," Joel replied, leaning back in his chair. "Ellie's doing good in school, keeping me busy with all her activities."

Tommy smiled. "That’s good to hear. She’s a great kid."

Joel nodded, then took a deep breath, trying to steer the conversation. "Yeah, speaking of kids... you seen Gibson girl around lately? Maybe at church? Haven't seen her passing by my home."

Tommy frowned, scratching his head. "Yeah, now that you mention it, I haven't seen her at church either. And she's usually always around."

Joel tried to keep his voice casual, not wanting to raise suspicion. "Right," Joel answered, but his thoughts were far from the conversation at hand. He couldn't shake the image of you from his mind—the pain in your eyes, the way you had avoided him, the way your voice trembled when you last spoke. Every unanswered call, every sight of your empty path gnawed at him, filling him with a deep, gnawing worry.

He replayed that night over and over, the way you had clung to him, the way he had tried to provide comfort without crossing any lines. He had never felt so helpless, so desperate to protect someone, yet so unsure of how to do it. His heart ached with the thought of you suffering alone, believing you were dirty or unworthy.

"Joel?" Tommy's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Joel blinked, realizing he had completely zoned out.

"Huh? What?" Joel said, shaking his head to clear the fog of worry. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Tommy gave him a curious look, tilting his head slightly. "I was asking if you wanted more popcorn, but you seemed a million miles away. Everything alright?"

Joel forced a smile, trying to mask the anxiety that churned within him. "Yeah, sorry just got a lot on my mind. But yeah, more popcorn sounds good."

Tommy didn't seem entirely convinced, but he let it go, standing up to refill the bowl. Joel watched him go, taking the moment to gather himself. He needed to find a way to reach you, to make sure you were alright without raising too much suspicion. The worry gnawed at him, a constant presence in the back of his mind.

As the movie continued, Joel found it hard to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to you, hoping that you were finding some measure of peace, even as he felt his own slipping further away.

As the sun rose on Sunday, you prepared yourself with a painstaking precision. The morning light seemed to cast an unforgiving glow on your efforts, illuminating every detail of your attire and makeup. You adorned yourself in a soft yellow dress, a stark contrast to the stained white dress you had left behind—a symbol of a past tainted by invisible scars. Your hair was styled meticulously, and a light touch of makeup tried to mask the weariness in your eyes. It was as if you were trying to paint over the shadows that clung to you, hoping that the brightness of the yellow might somehow wash away the stains of your recent past.

Your father was adamant about you joining the service, and the pressure of his expectations weighed heavily on you. The town would be present, as it always was for these occasions, their curious eyes a stark reminder of your recent absence. You could feel their gazes, and you braced yourself for the inevitable scrutiny. The anticipation of stepping into the public eye once more was almost suffocating.

When you arrived at the church, you noticed Tommy and Maria’s car parked nearby, a sight that barely registered in your anxious state. But as you turned, your heart seemed to freeze. There, behind Tommy’s car, was a familiar truck—a vehicle you hadn’t expected to see in such a context. It was Joel’s truck.

Your breath hitched in your throat. Joel had decided to return to church after years of absence. The scene before you was a tableau of mixed emotions: the congregation’s whispers, the look of surprise on Tommy’s face, and your father’s exuberant welcome of Joel. The church buzzed with curiosity, and every eye seemed to turn toward Joel and the unexpected presence he brought with him. Your father’s enthusiasm was palpable as he greeted Joel, his gestures warm and welcoming. Tommy smiled, clearly pleased to see his brother, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You, on the other hand, felt an overwhelming urge to disappear. The thought of facing Joel was almost too much to bear. The last time you had seen him, everything had been different. The thought of him seeing you in your current state, a mix of shame and unresolved feelings, was unbearable. You moved swiftly to avoid his gaze, slipping through the crowd like a wisp of smoke.

Joel's presence was a silent declaration of concern and hope. His return to the church was more than a gesture; it was an effort to reconnect, to understand why you had vanished so abruptly from his life. He couldn’t risk coming to your house and questioning your parents directly, as that would have been too conspicuous. Instead, he chose this public setting, hoping it might offer a chance to see you, to gauge your well-being without drawing undue attention.

Tommy and Ellie had been startled by Joel’s decision to attend church after all these years. To them, it was an unspoken mystery, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit with the past patterns they knew. Tommy’s curiosity was evident, though he kept his questions at bay, respecting Joel’s unspoken wish for discretion.

As the service began, the room was filled with the familiar hymns and prayers. The sounds of the congregation’s voices blended into a backdrop of solemnity and devotion. You sat through the service, your mind a turbulent sea of emotions, while Joel’s presence at the back of the church was a constant, heavy reminder of your own turmoil.

Joel, despite his own feelings of discomfort in this sacred space, kept his gaze low, trying to remain unobtrusive. His concern for you overshadowed the solemnity of the service, his heart aching with the desire to reach out, to offer solace, but restrained by the fear of overstepping. The echoes of the sermon, the rustle of prayer books, and the collective murmur of the congregation seemed distant, as if you were trapped in a bubble of your own distress.

After the Sunday service, the church transformed into a space of community and fellowship. Tables were set up with an array of homemade dishes, and the congregation gathered for a communal meal. The aroma of comfort food filled the air, mingling with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of plates. It was a time for members of the congregation to connect, share news, and strengthen their bonds.

You moved through the gathering with practiced grace, helping your mother and father arrange the food and interact with the attendees. Your smile was a well-practiced mask, concealing the turmoil that churned beneath. You greeted old friends and acquaintances, your responses polite but distant. The effort to maintain this façade was exhausting, but you felt it was necessary to avoid further scrutiny.

As you made your way to the storage room in the church, a quiet refuge away from the bustling hall, you found yourself alone. The clamor of the gathering seemed a world away, and the space was filled with the scent of dust and old paper. You were organizing a stack of donation boxes when you heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

Turning around, you saw Joel standing in the doorway. His presence was like a sudden storm cloud on an otherwise clear day—unexpected and overwhelming. He looked at you with a mixture of concern and apprehension, his rugged face lined with worry. The weight of his gaze was almost palpable, and it seemed as though he was struggling to find the right words.

“Hey,” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly. He took a hesitant step forward, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The usual gruffness in his tone was softened by the underlying worry.

You shifted uncomfortably, caught off guard by his appearance. “Joel,” you managed to reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions welling up inside you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Joel looked around the small room, as if searching for the right way to start the conversation. “Yeah, well,” he began, his gaze falling back on you. “I’ve been—” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been worried about you. Haven’t seen you around much. I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

His words were simple, yet they carried the weight of his genuine concern. Joel was a man of action rather than words, and his struggle to articulate his feelings only highlighted how much he cared. He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours for a sign of how you were really doing.

“Joel,” you said, your voice trembling slightly, “did you come to church just for this? I’m fine. Really.”

Joel’s expression softened, but his concern remained palpable. “I’ve been tryin’ to reach you, and you’ve been avoidin’ me. It’s not like you to just disappear. I need to know—are you really okay?” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his worry. You looked away, struggling to find the right response. “I’ve just been dealing with things,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I needed some time.”

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, his concern deepening. " You’ve been missin’ from school, from church, from everythin’. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been keepin’ your distance."

You felt a pang of guilt at his words, the truth of your situation pressing heavily on your heart. “I'm fine, Joel” you said, struggling to keep your composure.

Joel’s gaze remained steady, a mixture of frustration and concern etched into his features. “Why’ve you been avoidin’ me?” he asked, his voice a blend of urgency and care. “You can’t keep runnin’ away from this. You keep pushin’ me away.”

You felt a sharp pang of guilt at his words, your heart twisting in your chest. The shame and the weight of your feelings made it difficult to meet his eyes. “I just—” you began, your voice faltering. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to see how... broken I am.”

Joel’s expression softened, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and tenderness. “What are you talkin’ about?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not broken. You’re still you. You don’t have nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

His words were a balm to your wounded spirit, yet the weight of your shame still felt suffocating. You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. “But I’ve changed,” you said, your voice cracking. “I feel like I’m not who I was before. I feel... dirty. Like I’m not even me anymore.”

Joel’s eyes softened as he noticed the tremble in your voice, the tears that began to fall. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, reassuring embrace. His touch was warm and steady, a stark contrast to the cold grip of your shame.

As he held you, Joel let his guard down, something he rarely allowed himself to do. The strength in his arms was a shield against the world, a sanctuary where you could momentarily escape the torment you had been living through. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing, provided a grounding comfort. This was more than a physical embrace; it was a silent promise of protection, akin to the way he had once shielded Ellie and Sarah.

“It’s alright,” Joel murmured into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “It’s not your fault, it's not your fault. Everything's gonna be alright, babygirl."

His words were like a balm to the raw wounds of your spirit, yet the weight of your emotions still felt heavy. You could sense the sincerity in his voice, a quiet strength that contrasted sharply with the tumult of your inner world. In his embrace, you could almost imagine the weight of your shame lifting, if only for a moment.

After a while, you slowly pulled away from Joel’s comforting hold, grateful for his presence. “Thank you, Joel,” you said softly, wiping away the remnants of your tears. Joel, ever the pragmatist, decided to lighten the mood with one of his characteristic jokes.

“You know,” he said with a crooked smile, “cryin’ like that might just mess up your makeup. And we wouldn’t want you lookin’ like a raccoon now, would we?”

His playful jest brought a genuine smile to your face, a rare and fleeting moment of joy. Joel’s eyes softened as he saw you smile, his own expression a mix of relief and affection. “That’s right, like that, doll,” he said, his voice warm.

He gently cupped your face, his rough fingers brushing away the last traces of tears. “You’re stronger than you think. Just gotta give yourself some credit. You ain’t broken, not by a long shot.”

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps approached, and your mother appeared at the doorway of the storage room. Her cheerful voice cut through the tension. “Sweetheart, what’s taking so long? Did you find everything?”

You and Joel quickly pulled away from each other, making a show of straightening up and wiping your faces. “Umm, yes mother, I-I found it,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Your mother’s eyes fell on Joel, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Joel? What are you doing here?”

Joel cleared his throat, trying to mask the unease in his voice. “Hey, Evelyn, I, uh, just looking around the church again. Almost forgot how it looks from the inside, you know? It’s been a while.”

Your mother, ever the bubbly personality, clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s wonderful! We’re so glad to see you back. You know, you should come more often. It’s always nice to have you around. It’s been such a long time!”

Joel nodded, his eyes flicking back to you with a hint of concern. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Just felt like catching up with old times.”

Your mother beamed at Joel, her enthusiasm unwavering. “Well, that’s fantastic. You must join us for some of the refreshments afterward. It’s a potluck today, and there’s plenty of food. Everyone’s been asking about you.”

Joel gave a polite smile, trying to hide his discomfort. “Sure thing. I’ll stick around for a bit.”

As your mother continued to chat with Joel, her cheerful demeanor filling the room with a lightness that contrasted sharply with the earlier tension, you took the opportunity to discreetly collect yourself. You adjusted your dress and smoothed out your makeup, trying to regain your composure.

Joel, noticing the change in your demeanor, shot you a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to your mother.

Your mother excuse herself to go out but lookback to you, “Oh, sweetheart, I almost forgot. We need help with the setup for the refreshments,”

You quickly nodded. “Yes, I’ll take care of it, Mama." and she went to outside.

You and Joel moved outside too, where the atmosphere of the church’s potluck was in full swing. The laughter and chatter of the congregation filled the air, mingling with the scent of freshly baked goods and savory dishes. Joel, despite his unease, tried to adapt to the social scene, engaging with the women who flocked to him. He was a striking figure, with his salt-and-pepper beard and intense brown eyes that had a rugged charm to them. The women, clearly drawn to his distinguished appearance and the success he embodied, tried to catch his attention, though Joel’s discomfort was palpable. He offered polite smiles and brief responses, all the while his gaze frequently wandered back to you.

You moved among the congregation, offering refreshments and engaging in small talk, your presence like a breath of fresh air amidst the busier, more boisterous interactions. To Joel, you appeared as a serene vision—an innocent beauty despite everything. There was something ethereal about you, a delicate grace that made you stand out among the crowd. Your yellow dress seemed to shimmer with a soft glow, as if capturing the very essence of spring's first light.

Joel’s eyes lingered on you, the sight of your genuine smile and the way you interacted with others tugging at something deep within him. You were like a lone daisy in a field of wildflowers, untouched by the wilting sun. His admiration for you was undeniable, though it was mingled with concern and protectiveness.

Suddenly, as you were handing out refreshments, he noticed a boy approaching you. He moved with a kind of familiar swagger, and Joel’s heart skipped a beat as he recognized him—Jamie Lee. The sight of Jamie sent a shiver down Joel’s spine, and a protective instinct surged through him. He watched, tense and alert, as Jamie neared you.

Jamie’s presence was like a shadow falling over your radiant light. Joel’s gaze hardened, his focus narrowing. He could see the unease in your posture, the way you instinctively took a step back. The fear in your eyes was palpable, and it made Joel’s fists clench at his sides.

Joel, unable to stand idly by, started making his way towards you. His movements were deliberate and calculated, every step driven by a fierce determination to protect you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before turning back to Jamie. The confrontation had left a bitter taste in your mouth, and you approached him with a cold, composed demeanor.

Jamie, noticing your icy response, shifted uncomfortably. “Hey,” he started, his voice trying to sound casual but laced with an apologetic tone. “I didn’t mean to, you know, I was just—”

"Get off from my face," you said quietly doesn't want to make a scene.

amie’s face twisted into a desperate mask of fear as he took another step closer. “Look, I’m really sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “Just... just listen to me. I didn’t mean to—”

“Get off from my face,” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper but sharp as a blade. Your hands trembled slightly as you tried to push him away, but Jamie persisted, his fear morphing into a desperate, unsettling urgency. “Please, just leave me alone.”

Jamie’s panic grew. He began to reach out, trying to grab your arm. “You don’t understand. I need you to—”

Before he could touch you, Joel’s imposing figure appeared, his presence radiating a quiet, intimidating authority. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation, the protective instincts within him coming to the forefront. “What’s goin’ on here?” Joel’s voice was steady, yet carried a dangerous edge that made Jamie freeze.

Jamie’s eyes widened in recognition. “Mr. Miller!” he stammered, backing away slightly. “I—uh—”

Joel’s gaze shifted to you, noticing the fear and distress on your face. He took a step closer to you, his body language radiating both calm and control. “Gibson, you alright?” he asked softly, his voice a reassuring balm amidst the tension.

You nodded, though your face was pale and your eyes betrayed the turmoil within. “Yes, I’m fine. Just... I need to go," You trying to gave Joel a smile and then walk away continue what you were doing.

Joel watched you walk away, his protective instincts still simmering beneath the surface. Once you were out of sight, Joel turned his full attention back to Jamie, his expression hardening.

“Hey, Jamie,” Joel said, his voice low and controlled. “How’s your old man? Still keepin’ busy with the firm?”

Jamie seemed to relax slightly, though his eyes still flicked nervously between Joel and the direction you had gone. “Uh, yeah, he’s doing alright,” Jamie replied, trying to sound casual. “Still busy as ever. You know how it is.”

Joel’s gaze was unwavering, a subtle intensity in his eyes that Jamie seemed to sense but couldn’t quite place. “And what about you? What’ve you been up to lately?”

Jamie fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, just... you know, school and stuff. Nothing too exciting.”

Joel nodded slowly, maintaining a calm exterior while his mind worked through his options. “Right, right. Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you around. Thought I’d come back to the old church, see how things are goin’.”

Jamie’s eyes darted nervously. “Yeah, it’s been a while,” he said, his voice faltering. “So, uh, what brings you back? I thought you hadn’t been around for years.”

Joel’s smile was tight, the warmth of it not quite reaching his eyes. “Just felt like it was time to reconnect. Thought I’d check in on the old place, you know?"

Jamie seemed to relax a bit more, although his discomfort lingered. “Yeah, well, it’s good to see you,” he said awkwardly. “Things are... different, but you know how it is.”

Joel’s gaze remained steady, a quiet storm of thoughts behind his calm facade. “Yeah, I know how it is,” he said, his tone measured. “Well, Jamie, I’m glad we had a chance to catch up. I'll see you around,"

Jamie’s face was a mask of confusion and relief as he nodded quickly. “Yeah, see you around, Mr. Miller.”

As Jamie walked away, Joel’s eyes followed him, a thoughtful frown settling on his face. He knew there was more beneath the surface, and he was determined to uncover it, but for now, he kept his thoughts to himself.

Joel took a deep breath, his gaze returning to where you had disappeared. He knew that protecting you and making sure you felt safe was his priority now. The façade of casual conversation was just that—a façade.

Joel watched you slip away from the crowd, a cloud of worry settling over him. His thoughts were a maelstrom of concern and determination, but before he could follow, he was waylaid by several familiar faces. They were eager to catch up, their questions and greetings a barrier he couldn’t easily cross. He tried to be polite, nodding and offering half-hearted responses, all the while his mind remained focused on you.

Meanwhile, you navigated the church grounds with a heavy heart, your steps driven by a desperate need for solitude. You approached your father with a feigned urgency. “Papa, I need to leave early. I have a test tomorrow and I need a book from the library,” you said, your voice trembling slightly but with a determined edge.

Your father, engrossed in the after-church festivities, waved you off with little more than a distracted nod. “Alright, just be back before dark,” he called after you, his attention already shifting back to the conversation he was engaged in.

With a sigh of relief, you made your way to the edge of the church grounds, your thoughts a tangled mess of despair and shame. The path to the lake felt like a journey through an emotional wilderness. Each step seemed to echo the emptiness inside you, the trees and underbrush closing in like the walls of your own confinement.

As you walked, the weight of your thoughts felt like an oppressive fog, obscuring any sense of clarity or peace. The forest surrounding the path seemed to mirror your inner turmoil—dark, tangled, and impenetrable. The chirping of distant birds and the rustling leaves became a muted symphony to your solitary reflection, their sounds like distant whispers of a world you felt disconnected from.

Reaching the lake, you sank down onto the grassy bank, the weight of the past weeks pressing heavily on your shoulders. The water’s surface was a mirror of your own fractured soul—rippled and distorted, reflecting the tangled mess of your emotions. You fished out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a flask from beneath your jacket, your hands shaking slightly. The cigarettes were a crutch, a way to cope with the stress that had become almost unbearable.

Lighting a cigarette, you took a long drag, the smoke curling up into the air like a wisp of your own troubles being released. You retrieved the flask, unscrewing the cap and taking a swig of the whiskey you had managed to sneak away. The warmth of the alcohol spread through you, a fleeting comfort in the midst of your turmoil. It was a bitter solace, a way to dull the sharp edges of your pain, but it never truly erased the deep ache within.

The lake, now dimming in the encroaching twilight, seemed to embrace your solitude. Its surface reflected the last rays of sunlight, shimmering like scattered fragments of hope amidst the darkness. You leaned back, the grass beneath you soft and cool, the calmness of the lake providing a deceptive sense of tranquility.

As you looked out over the water, your thoughts drifted like the gentle ripples across the lake’s surface. The recent events played out in your mind like a series of shadowy figures, each one a reminder of how your life had spiraled into this moment of isolation and despair. You clung to the fleeting moments of numbness provided by the whiskey and smoke, trying to drown out the crushing weight of your reality.

Joel, meanwhile, managed to extricate himself from the crowd of well-wishers. His concern for you was a constant pull, a magnetic force guiding him towards you. As he scanned the area around the church, his eyes caught sight of your disappearing figure, and he felt a renewed urgency to follow.

The lake stretched out before you, its surface a placid mirror reflecting the fading light of day. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of birds seemed like distant echoes compared to the chaos in your mind. You lay on the grass, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath you, and the weight of Jamie Lee’s presence still heavy on your soul. Each ripple in the lake's surface seemed to mimic the turbulent waves of your thoughts—crashing, receding, only to rise again with relentless force.

You had managed to slip away from the crowd, the world around you feeling far removed from the comforting isolation you sought. As you stared out over the lake, the thoughts of Jamie’s unwelcome reappearance, the haunting memories, and the crushing fear of being trapped in this endless cycle of pain and shame twisted through your mind. You were desperate for a way out, a new beginning, a place where you could shed the weight of your past and start anew. But for now, all you could do was lie there, the whispers of the forest around you a faint consolation against the storm within.

Then, breaking through the oppressive silence, a voice reached you. "Thought I found you here."

The sound of Joel’s voice was a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. You turned slowly, your heart pounding as you saw him emerging from the trees. His presence was a tether to reality, grounding you amidst the chaos. His gaze was soft but intense, filled with a concern that seemed to pierce through the veil of your anguish.

Joel walked over to you with deliberate steps, his expression a mix of determination and empathy. He settled beside you on the grass, his body language a silent promise of protection and understanding. The familiarity of his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of the stark contrast between your own inner darkness and his unwavering support.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but laced with genuine worry.

You didn’t immediately respond, the weight of your emotions rendering you almost speechless. The silence stretched between you, a fragile bridge spanning the gap between your fractured state and his steady presence. Joel’s eyes, dark and intense, held yours with an unwavering focus, as if trying to read the secrets written in your sorrow.

“I don’t know how to make it stop,” you finally said, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart, and I keep trying to run away from it. But every time I think I’m getting away, it all just catches up with me.”

Joel’s expression was a mix of deep concern and frustration as he watched you struggle to keep your composure. “I’m here for you,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of earnest reassurance.

As Joel reached out to place a comforting hand on your shoulder, you flinched as though struck, your body reacting involuntarily to the touch. Joel pulled his hand back, a flash of confusion crossing his face. “Hey, what’s goin’ on?” he asked, his tone gentler now. “What’s wrong?”

You quickly shook your head, trying to mask the truth. “It’s nothing, Joel. I’m fine,” you insisted, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your distress.

Joel’s eyes narrowed with concern. It was clear to him that there was more to your reaction than you were letting on. “You’re not fine,” he said firmly. “You're hidin' something, let me see your back,"

“I’m fine, Joel,” you insisted, trying to back away from him. Your voice was steadier now, but your heart was racing.

Joel’s face was set in grim determination. “No, you’re not. If you don’t show me, I’m gonna keep pushin’. I can see it in your eyes—you’re in pain, and I need to know why.”

When you continued to resist, Joel’s frustration reached its peak. “You gotta trust me,” he said, his voice harsh but filled with a desperate edge.

Unable to bear his insistence any longer, you shouted, “Joel, stop! I said I’m fine!” The raw pain and fear in your voice were undeniable, and Joel’s eyes softened for a moment, but his resolve remained unshaken.

Joel’s expression hardened. “I’m not lettin’ this go,” he said firmly. He gently but firmly reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it down further to expose the scars on your back. His movements were deliberate and careful, but his eyes were filled with a cold intensity that brooked no argument.

As he revealed the cruel marks etched into your skin, his anger became more apparent. His gaze swept over the scars—long, angry lines, some still raw and others faded but no less painful. Each mark told a story of suffering, and Joel’s jaw clenched in response.

Joel’s eyes darkened, his voice strained with barely controlled rage. “Who did this to you?” he asked, his tone growing colder with each word. “Who did this to you?"

"It's... It's my father," you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. The confession felt like a stone lodged in your throat, its weight choking you.

Joel closed his eyes momentarily, fighting to contain the storm of anger threatening to erupt. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw working as he muttered curses under his breath. The fury simmering just below the surface was palpable.

“How long has this been goin’ on?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion. “How long have you been dealin’ with this?”

“Since forever,” you said quietly, your shoulders sagging under the weight of your admission.

"Does your mother know?" Joel asked, you nodded.

“My mother knows, but she’s too scared to do anything. It’s... ironic, really. Just a few months ago, he was giving advice to Tommy about parenting, acting like some holy figure, but he's nothing but a hypocrite.” You try to lighten up.

Joel’s face contorted with a mix of disbelief and disgust. He stood abruptly, his movements sharp and decisive.

You scrambled to your feet, desperation gripping you. “Joel, where are you going?! please,” you said, your voice trembling. “Don’t do anything. Please, just let it be. This is my fault. I made him angry. I deserve this. Please, don’t make it worse. I can’t handle more trouble.”

Joel’s gaze was intense, his anger still visible but mixed with concern. “Are you fucking crazy?!” he shouted, his voice echoing across the still lake. “This ain’t your fault!” His outburst was raw, his frustration spilling over.

You flinched, your body instinctively drawing back from the intensity of his anger. The sudden surge of emotion was overwhelming, and you could feel the fear rise in your chest, a cold shiver racing down your spine.

Joel’s expression softened as he saw your reaction, his own anger faltering in the face of your fear. He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. “I’m sorry," he said, his voice rough but gentler now. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just... seeing what he’s done to you...”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “I know, I know, Joel,” you whispered. “I just don’t know how to handle this. I’m scared, and I feel like everything’s falling apart.”

Joel’s eyes, usually so guarded, now reflected a rare vulnerability. “You don’t need to be scared,” he said, his voice softer, like a steady hand in the darkness. “I’m here for you."

The night air felt colder, but Joel’s presence was a warm, unspoken promise. His rough exterior hid a well of compassion, and though he struggled to find the right words, his actions spoke volumes. He gently pressed his forehead to yours, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “I’ll keep you safe,” he vowed, his voice a low murmur. “I promise,"

The contact of his forehead against yours was a silent, grounding connection. It was a gesture filled with the weight of his resolve and the depth of his commitment. The orange sky seemed to hold its breath, the world narrowing down to the two of you in that fragile moment of solace.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with confusion and vulnerability. “Why are you helping me like this?”

Joel pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching for the right words. He honestly didn’t know, not really, why he felt this way. Why the protective instinct was so strong, why his heart ached with a depth he hadn’t felt before. This wasn’t like his feelings for Ellie or Sarah; it was different, an enigma wrapped in the folds of his hardened exterior. He was trying to piece it together, to make sense of the emotions that seemed to defy all his usual defenses.

Inside your head, the sensation was equally foreign but profoundly powerful. It was as if, for the first time, you were standing on the edge of a cliff, gazing at an ocean of comfort and care you had only ever dreamed of. The feelings you had longed for, the protection and the tenderness, were now here, enveloping you like a warm, protective cocoon. The stark contrast between this new sense of safety and the pain you had endured made the emotions even more intense.

Joel’s presence was like a lighthouse in a storm, a beacon that cut through the darkness of your fears and insecurities. The connection between you was electric, a thread that wove itself into the very fabric of your being. It was as if every touch, every glance, was an echo of a deep-seated need for solace and understanding. In his gaze, you found not just protection but a promise of something more, something you had never allowed yourself to fully believe in.

As the sky deepened around you, the intimacy of the moment became undeniable. You wanted to close the distance, to feel the warmth of his lips against yours, to make this bond even more tangible. But there was a hesitation—a barrier of years and experiences, a chasm you weren’t sure you could or should cross. Joel was older, a figure who had always seemed out of reach, yet now he was the focal point of a desire that was both thrilling and terrifying.

In your mind, the longing was like a fragile flower blossoming in the dark—a tender, delicate thing that had been waiting for the right moment to bloom. You felt a pull toward him that went beyond mere comfort; it was a magnetic force that drew you closer, promising a kind of connection you hadn’t thought possible.

You wanted to kiss him, to bridge the gap between what was and what could be, but the uncertainty lingered. Would he reciprocate, or would the age difference and the complexities of your feelings stand in the way? The desire was there, shimmering like moonlight on still water, but you were unsure if this was a path you should walk or a dream too fragile to grasp.

Joel's presence was an anchor, grounding you in a moment of clarity and vulnerability. The depth of what you felt for him was new and frightening, like navigating a starless sea in search of a shore you hoped existed. In the silence that followed, you could almost hear the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you, a testament to the complex dance of emotion and need that neither of you could fully understand but both could feel.

Driven by the raw need to bridge the chasm between what was and what could be, you made a sudden, bold decision. You leaned in, closing the distance between you with a desperate and trembling kiss.

The moment your lips met his, Joel’s eyes widened in shock. He had not expected this, and for a heartbeat, he was paralyzed, caught between instinct and confusion. It felt like an electric jolt had surged through him, awakening something deep and primal. His heart raced, and his breath hitched as he processed the reality of your kiss.

But as the shock wore off, something else stirred within him—a burgeoning need that mirrored your own. The kiss, so raw and honest, ignited a flame that Joel had long kept buried under layers of grief and stoicism. He felt the world narrow to just the two of you, a universe where the complexities of age and propriety faded into insignificance.

Without fully realizing it, Joel responded with a fervor that surprised even him. His hands cupped your face gently but firmly, drawing you closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate, a dance of newfound desire and connection. It was as if each touch, each movement, was a revelation, a discovery of a shared longing that neither of you had fully acknowledged until this very moment.

Joel's kiss was eager, almost desperate. The way he pulled you closer, the intensity of his touch—it was as if he was trying to anchor himself to this fragile but profound connection. His initial shock gave way to an overwhelming need to reciprocate, to explore the emotions that had been unearthed by your bold move.

For both of you, this kiss was a turning point, a leap into a new realm of intimacy and understanding. It was more than just physical; it was an acknowledgment of the depth of feeling that had been building between you. The night around you seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for this moment to solidify into something undeniably real.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your faces flushed with a mix of exhilaration and uncertainty. Joel’s gaze was softer now, his eyes reflecting a blend of awe and desire. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch tender.

“Doll,” Joel said, his voice a rough whisper as he pulled back slightly. “I’m sorry, Joel.” The realization of what had just happened washed over you like a cold wave, leaving you feeling vulnerable and uncertain.

Joel shook his head gently, his gaze steady and reassuring. “No, it’s okay,” he said, his tone firm yet tender. “It’s okay. you're alright, you'll be fine, I promise."

You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. The sky was growing darker, the first hints of night casting long shadows across the lake. You knew you needed to head back before your father’s anger took a new form, a punishment you feared more than the quiet storm that had just passed between you and Joel.

Joel’s hand lingered on your shoulder, his grip warm and steady. “Do you want a ride back?” he asked, his concern evident.

“No, it’s alright,” you replied, shaking your head with a small, weary smile. “Just… go back to the church. Say goodbye to everyone, Joel.”

Joel hesitated, his expression a mix of reluctance and understanding. “Alright,” he said, but before turning to go, you couldn’t help but add a touch of humor to lighten the mood.

“Hey, are you gonna become a regular at the church again?” you said, forcing a grin. “You’ve been MIA for years, and now you show up just to connect with me? What’s next, a testimonial about divine intervention?”

Joel chuckled, the sound a rare and genuine escape from the weight of the moment. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he replied with a wry smile. “But maybe I’ll drop by once in a while, if only to make sure you’re still alright.”

You both shared a brief, understanding smile. It was a fleeting but comforting connection amidst the chaos of emotions and revelations.

Before parting ways, Joel gave you a warm hug, his embrace firm yet tender. He pulled back slightly and placed a soft kiss on your cheek, a gesture that carried more warmth and affection than words could convey. It was a promise, a silent vow of protection and care, even if he wasn’t entirely sure of the depths of his own feelings.

“Stay safe,” Joel said, his voice gentle but earnest. “I’ll see you around.”

As Joel walked away, his figure blending into the shadows, you turned and began your journey back home. The cool night air brushed against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that Joel had left behind. The path ahead was dimly lit by the moonlight, each step resonating with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

In your mind, the night’s events replayed like a vivid dream. The touch of Joel’s hand, the tenderness of his kiss, and the tangled emotions you felt were all swirling together, creating a new and unfamiliar reality. You felt like you had crossed a threshold, where the lines between safety and danger, affection and fear, had become blurred.

The lake, once a silent witness to your sorrow, now seemed like a distant memory. It was as if you had left it behind, stepping into a new world where the echoes of the night and the promise of something different lingered like a soft whisper.

As you entered your home, the weight of the night’s revelations settled heavily on your shoulders. Each step felt like a delicate balance between the pain you had known and the uncertain hope that now lay ahead. Today had ended with its own kind of twilight, a space between the darkness of the past and the uncertain dawn of the future.

[talentforlying]

the low sound of laughter has constantine pressing his cheek against the phone to feel the reverberations through the speaker, like the beat of a heart beneath a splayed hand. always something of a risk, extending an open invitation like that; can't say he minds knowing it was well-received. maybe he'll try the excuse himself, next time he drops by the church unannounced.

of course, with a rebuttal like that, it's not likely to be very believable. there's no containing his delighted snort of surprise, smile splitting into a broad, bright grin. ' ha! point. think he'd let me in fer a fiver like any good bouncer, or should i be askin' you to sneak me in through the back? '

it's a classic enough line, one that gets ahh'd at with an appropriate amount of faux concern as he ashes his silk cut and settles his chin in his hand. ' oh aye? not like me, leavin' things behind. must've been distracted. ' he's outright teasing now, words low and playful and his voice studiously, cheerfully innocent. ' how'dje figure it's mine? got a monogrammed J.C. or summat? '

a pause, a glance stolen out the window for a peek at the time of day. ' or d'you reckon i should come over and see for meself? what with it bein' real important an' all. '

part of rodrick is disappointed that the phone is picked up. the careful deliberation of calling again after the last one had gone unanswered makes him stupidly unsure if he should let the line ring through or just hang up, but when the phone is answered and he has to speak the only thing that comes out is, been lookin' for a reason t'call for a few days; he's surprised that nothing in his voice betrays him.

a rumbling laugh comes from rodrick's end, warmed at the implication of such a brazen sentiment. if he'd known, maybe he could have used that. maybe he'll use it in the future, when john forgets and the reminder is a sweet joke between them. is it still blasphemy if it was a joke ?

❝ not like you can check - why i got a feelin' saint peter's got a picture of you at the heavenly gates ? ❞ the preacher takes a drag of his cigarette before glancing at the end table.

❝ well, ❞ he starts, a grin in his voice. ❝ i found somethin' that might be yers'. ❞ rodrick exhales, pulling the receiving closer to his mouth.

❝ figured it's real important. ❞

[oskea93]

← Take Me Away (Intro) →

OC x Jamie Campbell Bower (AU 1970s)  Warnings: TW—> This story will contain the following: (domestic violence, physical/verbal assault, cursing, sexual content, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, self harm). Please do not read if you are triggered by any of these warnings. This is a work of fiction only. I do not own Jamie or any other famous people mentioned. 

A/N: Hello again! So I decided to restart this story again because i'm currently in my JCB era and there just needs to be more stories out there featuring this man! With that being said, Jamie will not be the Jamie we know and love today. His name and image is being used, but there will be moments where he is not a very nice guy. Kind of like Caleb from Horizon. But there will also be moments where he is the lovable guy he typically is. I just want to thank those that either stuck with this fic or just recently found it!

☺︎ IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED, JUST DROP A COMMENT ☺︎

“So, tell me about Jamie.”

“What do you wanna know?”

The interviewer looked down at her notes, “What was life with him like – in private.”

I chewed on my bottom lip, somewhat afraid to answer. “Chaotic- “I started. “Wonderful in many ways but a total shitstorm all at the same time. He knew what to say and when to say it, but his words and actions weren’t always pleasing.”

I paused, searching for the right words to convey the whirlwind that was our life together. “Jamie was incredibly charismatic. He could light up any room he walked into, and people were naturally drawn to him. His charm was almost intoxicating; it made you feel special just being around him. But that charm had a flip side. In private, it wasn’t always so magical. There were days when his mood would swing dramatically, and you never knew what to expect.”

“How so?” The interviewer questioned.

I shrugged my shoulders, slouching a bit in my seat as I reflected on the complicated nature of the person in question. "He was his own villain," I began, my voice tinged with a mix of sympathy and disappointment. "He tried so hard to make a name for himself in the industry. After years of working closely with all these high-profile artists, indulging in the debauchery they played with, he lost sight of who he truly was."

I paused, choosing my words carefully as I continued, "Your sins catch up to you eventually, and the way you treat people changes. It's like a slow erosion of your values and morals until one day, you look in the mirror and realize you're not the person you thought you were."

My companion listened intently, absorbing my words before posing a poignant question, "Was he the love of your life?" The inquiry hung in the air, laden with layers of emotion and history, hinting at a deeper connection that transcended professional ties and delved into matters of the heart.

As I delved into the depths of my memories, recounting the chapters of my life that intertwined with the complexities of rising to fame at the tender age of 17, I knew that the tale of Jamie and me would be a pivotal thread in the fabric of my story. It was a narrative rooted in scandal and secrecy, a forbidden love that blossomed amidst the chaotic backdrop of rock 'n' roll excess and the stark contrast of a preacher's daughter entwined with a man hired to shield her from the very temptations she found herself succumbing to.

We wove a web of deception, attempting to shield our burgeoning relationship from prying eyes and wagging tongues, but the silent exchanges, the subtle gestures, and the lingering gazes between us belied the truth we sought to conceal. Jamie was a force of nature, a whirlwind of contradictions that both thrilled and terrified me in equal measure. His charm was a siren song that beckoned me into uncharted waters, his humor a balm to soothe the turbulence within my soul, his love a flame that flickered dangerously close to consuming us both.

In Jamie, I found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime who mirrored my own reckless abandon and insatiable thirst for life. He was the grenade to my pin, the catalyst that ignited a chain reaction of emotions and experiences that would forever alter the course of my existence. He was the bomb to my clock, ticking away the moments until our inevitable collision, our destinies irrevocably intertwined in a dance of passion and peril.

I had always been taught that God sends people into our lives for a reason, be it for our growth or our downfall. Jamie was no exception—a temporary fix that morphed into a permanent fixture, a fixture that brought both the brightest joys and the darkest sorrows of my young life. His presence was a paradox, a riddle wrapped in an enigma, a conundrum that I struggled to unravel even as I found myself ensnared in the web of our shared destiny.

I shifted in the plastic seat, my denim-clad legs crossing tightly. “Well—” I spoke, my voice wavering slightly. “That’s quite a title to give someone who could love you one minute and then treat you worse than a dog the next.” I smiled sadly, the memories flooding back with a mix of warmth and pain.

As I penned the words that would immortalize our tumultuous love affair on the pages of my memoir, I couldn't help but marvel at the intricate tapestry of fate that had woven our paths together. The story of Jamie and me was a testament to the volatile alchemy of passion and pain, of love and loss, of growth and destruction—a story that would echo through the annals of time as a cautionary tale of the perils and pleasures of forbidden love. And as I laid bare the raw truths of our tumultuous romance, I knew that Jamie would forever hold a piece of my heart, a shard of my soul, a chapter in my life that would never truly be closed.

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

gert's masterlist of 2023 ted lasso fics! which is. all my ted lasso fics lol

there are so many here buckle up

crack/primarily humor fics:

semaphore - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Four bracelets and thirteen mugs later, Colin might have finally gotten the hint. Because it was directly pointed out by a crowd of himbos, but you know, still! We got there! Right?! Right?!

birds of a feather - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin (Gen)

Colin notices Trent's mug, alright. (Or: Trent's increasingly less subtle attempts at broadcasting that he is a Safe Person and Also Queer do reach Colin, but Colin gets the wrong message.) (It could be worse. He could have thought Trent was flirting.)

exercising restraint - rated: E - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; ft Diamond Dogs

Following a fun and informative encounter with his favorite ex-journalist, Ted has a rather uncomfortable meeting with the Diamond Dogs. Featuring: Trent Crimm and the be-catted bag, Leslie Higgins knowing a lot about BDSM, Roy Kent being the world's most unwilling participant in this conversation, and Beard being Beard.

☆ Ted Lasso Kisses Trent Crimm On The Mouth - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Richmond Ensemble

In the locker room, Coach Lasso kisses their resident emotional support biographer, casual-as-you-please, and then leaves like nothing happened. Chaos ensues and the entirety of the club somehow gets involved. Trent wishes for the sweet release of death.

a preacher, a bikini, and a kiss or two - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Diamond Dogs, ft Will

The Diamond Dogs discuss first kisses. This leads to… a series of events sure does happen. And did happen.

☆ Rupert Mannion Is Batman (He Isn't) - rated: M - chapters: 13/13 - Trent/Ted; Richmond Ensemble

A series of bizarre, loosely related events occur, all kicked off by Trent absently mentioning that he may or may not have once hooked up with Rupert Mannion.

☆ painting the town richmond blue - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Trent's ex-wife

Ted Lasso unexpectedly runs into a very drunk Trent Crimm (the Independent), along with his equally drunk ex-wife. They're having a GREAT time. Ted is… pulled along for the ride.

Trent and the Vampire! - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin; Trent/Ted

Trent has a truly stupid amount of hickeys to hide thanks to SOMEONE. (Ted is unrepentant and he WILL do it again.)

The Portal Incident™ - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Press Room

It's a lovely day in the Richmond press room, and you are a horrible portal.

best seat in the office - rated: E - chapters: 6/6 + an additional snippet - Trent/Ted; Roy and Beard - note: some chapters lean more Smut, Angst, etc

Trent has many problems (chronically low self-esteem, deeply hopeless crush on co-worker, being helplessly attracted to said co-worker) and the bizarre lack of chairs ain't one. He can just sit on his desk—he's sat in stranger places. That is, until Ted somewhat jokingly offers his lap as a replacement. Trent immediately falls off the desk. For additional snippet: In which Ted just asked.

the two ring circus - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Diamond Dogs

[sent] – Lara, do you remember being lectured on the dangers of peer pressure? lara<3 – Aw has someone offered you a cigarette :) [sent] – a large swathe of richmond staff is trying to make me get nipple piercings :( lara<3 – trent what the fuck does that mean

snippets:

The Thumbs Up Saga - [part one] [part two] - Trent & OCs; ft Trent/Ted

of throuples and genders - Ted/Trent/Rebecca; ft Roy/Keeley/Jamie

Ted Kisses Trent In Front Of A Business Of Journalists For Probably Just Mischief Reasons - Trent/Ted

Trent's into how much of a bastard Ted is unfortunately - Pre Trent/Ted

Similar to that one: Trent's into Ted cursing (specifically in how much of a bastard he is about it) unfortunately - Pre Trent/Ted

☆ A weird alternate meeting/pre-canon meet-cute - [main] [additional snippet] - Trent/Ted; Beard [POV Outsider for second one]

Trent embarrasses himself in front of Michelle and it's cute - Ted/Trent; Michelle

☆ Ridiculous FMK Games - Diamond Dogs; ft Trent/Ted (could be interpreted as some combination of Ted/Trent/Roy/Beard if you want); also ft Colin

oops rebecca made them kiss - Trent/Ted; Rebecca [season one!]

Trent Crimm Is Fuckable! Everyone Agrees - Trent/Ted; Ensemble

Check time travel AUs section for those lol

smut fics (Rated E)

the best ones; primarily smut

☆☆ off the record - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Intrepid reporter Trent Crimm earns his scoop.

☆☆ trick & treat - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

In which a relatively harmless prank causes everyone at the Richmond Halloween party to be somewhat transformed into their Halloween costume. The charm is supposed to be fun. And it is! Really, it is! It's just that it really is effected by your mindset and by what you like about the costume, and Trent is--well, Trent's leaving the party early. He swears he wasn't thinking about this when he chose his costume. It's just. He saw Ted's costume and a few fantasies may have gotten away from him a little. Which would have been harmless, had it not been for all this. OR: Some deeply, deeply silly and contrived Halloween smut. Read the tags for more details.

☆ snippet: embarrassing venom au - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Uh oh sisters it's the deeply embarrassing CRACK VENOM AU NO ONE ASKED FOR!! Everyone clap and cheer Trent has an alien inside him if ya know what i m--

snippet: "desperation" + sub trent - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

diversity win! your journalist is now a sub [For the prompt "Desperation"]

a wonderful wreck - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Ted, while tipsy as hell, realizes he's bisexual, has a drunken hookup with Trent Crimm, wakes up, and then is… weirdly chill about all of this, considering.

sweeter than heaven (hotter than hell) - chapters: 1/4 - Trent/Ted

Trent has a hard time letting go--at least, letting go completely. He learns a little at a time. Or: 3 times Trent is on top, one way or another, and 1 time he gets utterly railed.

other works:

snippet: coach sandwich - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted/Beard - CRACK

Beard joins Ted and Trent for a threesome in the funniest, stupidest way possible.

☆ an odd sort of comfort - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted - Kinda angsty/pensive but sweet

There's a fantasy Trent has that he tries not to touch. He fails.

oh, in the strangest dreams - chapters: 1/1 + additional Roy POV - Trent/Ted - CRACK

Ted and Trent are both feeling weird about all the extremely vivid sex dreams they keep having about each other, completely unaware of the fact they are, in fact, the same dreams. Shenanigans ensue.

some specific AUs/groups

time travel AU snippets:

s3 Roy & s1 Trent - Serious; Angst - Trent & Roy

s3 Roy & s3 Trent; ft Press Room - Crack/Humor - Trent & Roy

s3 counterparts confuse s1 counterparts - Ensemble (Trent, Ted, Beard, Roy, Rebecca); ft Trent/Ted

☆☆ superhero AU - Trent/Ted; ft Beard:

Main fic

Ted POV

just specifically ships other than Trent/Ted:

snippet: ROY IS NOT TRENT'S SUGAR DADDY SHUT THE FUCK UP - rated: E - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Roy

"I can't believe Roy Kent is your sugar daddy," his ex-wife says, and he flings an aptly named throw pillow at her. Which she dodges with a cackle.

see aforementioned snippet: of throuples and genders - Ted/Trent/Rebecca (ft Jamie/Roy/Keeley)

basically crack wherein these two groups make jokes about gender among other things

also see aforementioned snippet: coach sandwich - Ted/Trent/Beard

Beard joins Ted and Trent for a threesome in the funniest, stupidest way possible.

☆ "caught in the middle" - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Ted/Trent/Beard

Uh oh, there's only one bed! Ft. Trent desperately needing a hug.

☆ "helpless in a game of kisses" - rated: M - chapters: 1/1 - Ted/Trent/Beard

Ted and Beard argue over who is a better kisser, as homies do. Trent is somehow made the referee. Surely this won't be weird at all. Or: How to break Trent Crimm's heart with seven simple kisses. And fix it with a few more.

primarily angst/more serious fics (generally happy endings)

☆☆ matters of the heart - rated: E - chapters: 2/2 (will be a series) - Trent & Everyone; Trent/Ted - somewhat angsty, character study

5 times someone had sex with Trent Crimm and it made him feel worse, and 1 time it actually felt good.

☆ lost sight of (who you are)- rated: T - chapters: 1/2 - will be Trent/Ted in ch 2 - somewhat angsty, character study. My first TL fic, written before s3

Trent Crimm, and becoming, and unbecoming, and becoming again. Or: Eventually, Trent writes a book. No, not that one.

☆ ink sunset - rated: T - chapters: 3/4 - Trent/Ted

Letters, unsent and sent, between Trent Crimm and Ted Lasso over the years.

☆☆ I WANTED TO BE LOVED SO DESPERATELY / THAT MY FINGERS SHOOK WITH IT - rated: T - chapters: 2/2 - Trent/Ted

Trent, and being sick, and being sick alone.

☆ make a mess of you - rated: T - chapters: 2/2 - Trent/Ted

Ted is drunk, and sad, and he really likes Trent Crimm. This cannot end well.

betrayal's sting / absolution's balm - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Ted & Everyone (Gen)

Five times Ted forgives someone… and one time he doesn't.

something to get off my chest - rated: T - chapters: 3/3 - Ted & Trent & Roy (Gen)

Three perspectives on the scene in the locker room.

to have hope - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin; Will (Gen)

Will overhears a conversation between Trent and Colin.

other fics

☆ moonlit - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Trent wakes up snuggled close with one Ted Lasso. And immediately overthinks it.

two (not) pieces of shit - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Colin (Gen)

In many ways, Trent's sort of become a mentor to Colin. But Colin has some things to teach Trent, too.

☆☆ being right - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Pre Trent/Ted - episode tag

Trent's opinion of Ted Lasso goes from utterly dismal, to slowly wearing down into something generally negative but with an edge of reluctantly impressed, to, abruptly, turning on a dime, something glowing.

off the handle - rated: T - chapters: 3/3 - Trent/Ted

Ted lets himself be angry, kisses the man of his dreams, accidentally makes said man of his dreams cry, acquires a boyfriend, and smashes some shit with Trent Crimm in a parking lot at 3 am. Not in that order. No one ask where Coach Beard got those mugs. (The man of his dreams, the acquired boyfriend, and Trent Crimm all happen to be the same person. This is a surprise to no one but Ted and Trent Crimm himself.)

creme, dough, and other jars - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - pre Trent/Ted - primarily humor

Ted receives an unexpected voice message from one Trent Crimm. At 3 am. About a jar of marshmallow crème.

linger - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted; Rebecca

Rebecca comes to see why Ted hasn't gotten off the team bus yet.

some small comfort - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Trent/Ted

Trent finds Ted having a panic attack in the coaches' office.

☆ wayward thoughts - rated: G - chapters: 1/1 - Trent & Ted (Gen, but could be pre Trent/Ted)

Ted reads Trent's article, and lets his thoughts wander.

the dregs at the bottom of the glass - rated: T - chapters: 1/1 - Pre Trent/Ted (could be interpreted as Gen)

Trent tells Ted a story. Or: Trent, throughout his life, has realized over and over again that his parents actually Weren't Great, Actually. This is one of those times.

snippets:

truth liquor/confession - Trent & Press Room; mentioned Trent/Ted

Trent crushing his own recorder - Trent & Colin/Richmond Players (Gen)

Touch-starved Jamie - Gen; mention of past Keeley/Jamie - one of my few (only??) non Trent fics lol

Trent & Jamie talk about shitty dads - Gen

Michelle briefly meets Trent - Michelle & Trent, Michelle & Ted, ft eventual Trent/Ted

the fox & the wolf (Trent telling a fairy tale) - Trent & Roy & Colin; ft implied unrequited Trent/Ted

☆ the prince and the wyrm - (Trent telling a fairy tale but in a wildly different way to the last one) - Trent/Ted

☆ brief selkie snippet - implied Trent/Ted

snippet from a rom-com AU - Trent/Ted; Press Room

three voicemails/POV outsider - Trent/Ted; Lloyd the journo

high noon over richmond - Pre Trent/Ted; ft Beard

☆☆ second impressions (Ted's POV on Trent very early on in canon) - Gen, pre Trent/Ted)

☆☆ biting is a love language - Trent & Everyone; Trent/Ted

not the most romantic first "i love you" but very funny - Trent/Ted

mixed signals - Trent/Ted

They're both in need of a hug - Trent/Ted

Yet another silly Bantr reveal sort of fic - Trent/Ted (currently all text, should be expanded on)

some sneak peaks at wips i'm working on now (UNPOSTED and UNFINISHED, hence no links):

A Deeply Unfortunate Pre-Canon Roy/Trent Hookup

a very bizarre and somewhat smutty tedependent au involving a temple and some surprisingly sad shenanigans

Uh Oh It's The Ted/Trent/Roy/Beard Fic (Extremely E-Rated)

a terrifying mermaid-adjacent tedependent au

a cinderella-esque tedependent fic

a knight and wizard tedependent au

roytrent: romcommunism gone wrong au

Mistletoe Kiss (yeah this one's late)

Rebecca and Keeley Play Matchmaker For Trent and Ted. Oops

a crack addition to that superhero au

Most Of The Diamond Dogs Take Being Supportive Friends To A New Extreme

roytrent ensues. keeley gets to watch. everyone is pleased

one day i'll finish the fic about the other reporters drunkenly daring trent to seduce ted. one day

and MORE.

[f1ghtsoftly]

All The Women’s News You Missed Last Week:

9/9/24-9/16/24

US Reproductive Rights:

The Young Woman Making Kamala Harris’ Strongest Case on Abortion Rights

A judge strikes down North Dakota’s abortion ban and rules that access is protected

Missouri’s ballot will include abortion rights measure in November, court rules

More Women Had Their Tubes Tied After Roe V. Wade Was Overturned

Transgender/Gender Critical:

A look at Trump's 'transgender operations on illegal aliens' debate claim

Transgender New Hampshire teens can play for girls' sports teams during lawsuit, judge says

Sarah McBride is one step closer to becoming the first trans member of Congress

Greens hit with £90,000 bill after discrimination case

Graham Linehan 'subjected to discrimination in Belfast pub over gender critical beliefs'

US:

Trump says 'I hate Taylor Swift' after pop star endorses Harris

If Harris wins, she would make history. But she isn’t talking about that

A’ja Wilson becomes 1st WNBA player to reach 1,000 points in a season as Aces top Sun

WNY high school athletes, transgender advocates bring awareness to NY PROP 1

New York officials to release new renderings of possible Gilgo Beach victim

The anti-abortion activist urging followers not to support Trump

Trailblazing ballerina Michaela DePrince dies aged 29

Arkansas’ gov says Medicaid extension for new moms isn’t needed. Advisers disagree

Biden commemorates Violence Against Women Act as 'proudest' legislative win on eve of its 30th anniversary

She couldn't go to her daughter's graduation, so the hospital brought it to her

A venture capital grant program for Black women officially ends after court ruling

U.S. urges Israel to swiftly investigate killing of American woman in West Bank

Global:

Man accused of killing a Ugandan Olympian by setting her on fire, dies of burn wounds

Channel 4 will not remove alleged abuser from show

'Baby Reindeer' is facing a lawsuit — that didn't stop it from winning 6 Emmys

Kidnapped and trafficked twice - a sex worker's life in Sierra Leone

Couple accused of murdering teen to steal baby acquitted

'Lashed for a social media photo' in Iran

Olympic runner Cheptegei defied her violent ex. She lost her life anyway

Former prominent BBC news anchor gets suspended sentence for indecent images of children on phone

A union leader freed from prison vows to continue a strike against Cambodia’s’s biggest casino

Mother in Gaza longs for triplets in Jerusalem hospital

Princess Kate completes chemotherapy treatment for cancer

A Filipino preacher on the run from sexual abuse charges surrenders

Culture:

Profiles in clean energy: She founded a business to keep EV charging stations up and running

Hillary Clinton takes stock of life’s wins and losses in a memoir inspired by a Joni Mitchell lyric

Her piano concert was six years in the making. Then Puerto Rico's power went out

'I wanted to make a gay Clueless': Jamie Babbit on how her lesbian comedy But I'm a Cheerleader became a cult classic

'Criminally underrated': Why My Brilliant Friend is one of the best shows on TV

Jessica Pratt cracks open the sunny veneer of the California dream

Cooking for the most powerful person in the world

Rachel Kushner's new espionage thriller may be her coolest book yet

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As always, this is global and domestic news from a US perspective covering feminist issues and women in the news more generally. As of right now, I do not cover Women’s Sports. Published each Monday afternoon. 

I am looking for better sources on women’s arts and culture outside of the English-speaking world, if you know of any-please be in touch.

[angelst4re]

this is from a request i had a few months ago... i can't find it though and it's made me quite mad because i never stopped thinking about it and now it's gone!!??!?!!!?

Church- Jamie Campbell Bower x Reader

summary: the song church by chase atlantic...

warnings: NSFW!! contains smut!! if this makes you uncomfortable then please don't read it my love! <3

notes: well well well, look who's back! (it's me!) i'm hoping to write a few fics tonight to post tomorrow or even tonight if i get them finished, because i'm off to paris on sunday!! all the french i've learnt from writing the french!reader fics is finally going to be put to use :) also, reading this back, i don't know what i was thinking whilst writing this... but here it is!

You’re wearing nothing but my tshirt call me shallow but i’m only getting deeper

His cock thrusted in and out of you, brushing against every spot that caused your belly to tingle as your walls tightened around him. He had one hand on the headboard, holding him up, and the other began to push your t-shirt (which didn’t belong to you, it was Jamie’s) up, just above your belly button before it began to move higher and higher up, his fingers wrapping around your throat as your eyes widened and met his. He gave you a devilish smirk before angling his hips at a certain angle that made you bite down on your lip. He wasn’t fucking you harshly, not fast, he was taking his time and really teasing you. His hands slipped under your waist and held onto your hips, lifting your lower body off the mattress, fucking deeper into you with each movement of his hips. You squirmed about, unsure whether you were trying to get away from the feeling, or begging for more, but as his thumb stroked your clit you felt your body stop fighting, and you gave into the pleasure, biting the back of your hand as he smirked down at you.

Stay on the ground until your knees hurt, no more praying baby ima be a preacher

“Shh, you can take it, sweetheart. You’re doing so well, aren’t you?” He teased, rocking his hips, making you take him deeper down your throat. Your hands found his thighs, and you dug your nails into his skin as you desperately fought back your gag reflex. He moaned your name, followed by profanities before wrapping his fingers in your hair, holding in place to form a makeshift ponytail. His other hand stroked your cheek, causing your eyes to meet his.

And I'll keep leading you on If you keep leading me into your room

You took hold of his hand as you guided him to your room, your need for him growing stronger and stronger. You would take him right here in the hallway if it wasn’t for the risk of being caught. As you opened the door to your room, Jamie placed his hand on your waist. He guided the both of you into your room before shutting the door behind him and pushing you up against it, his lips crashing into yours in a desperate, needy kiss. His hands slipped under the t-shirt you were wearing, and he skillfully unclasped your bra as your hands found his belt. In a matter of seconds, Jamie was left in just his boxers whilst you were wearing nothing but his t-shirt. You lied down on the bed and spread your legs for him, motioning with your finger for him to come closer.

The drinks are all gone But that's fine, baby so am I

(i know jamie doesn’t drink anymore, this is fiction, completely separated from reality <3)

He placed his whiskey glass down on the table beside him, his hand coming up to rub your back as you sat on his lap. 

“Maybe we should go upstairs, hm?” He offered, his other hand tracing patterns on your bare thighs, slowly inching upwards. 

“Maybe we should,” you agreed, placing your hand on his. You gave him a suggestive look, and he caught on. He gave you a lazy smirk as his hands gripped your hips, moving you slightly so your legs straddled his as he sat on the sofa. 

I’m about to take you back to church, well tell me your confessions, baby, what’s the worst? 

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear, brushing a piece of your hair away from your face. 

“All day I’ve been thinking,” you begin, knowing this confession will drive him wild, “about you using your belt. You could… tie my hands together with it, so I’m completely at your mercy. You could use it to punish me, maybe I need to be taught a lesson? Show me what happens if I don’t behave.” You smirk, feeling his breath hot against your skin, becoming shallower as you spoke. You decided to tease him even further, since you were sitting in his lap you moved a hand towards his crotch, palming him through his jeans. 

Baptise in your thighs till it hurts

His arms were wrapped around your thighs, holding them open for him as he buried his face in your cunt. His tongue danced circles around your clit, alternating between that and sucking on the nub. You clasped your hand over your mouth, your back arching into his touch as he ran two fingers through your folds, collecting enough of your slick to easily slip inside you. You gasped at the feeling, and couldn’t help but attempt to press your thighs together, but his hands stopped you. 

I'll keep you up until the sunset

You had already came five times, twice from his mouth, once from his hand and twice on his cock. You couldn’t believe how he still had the energy for one last round, as you were a shaking, whimpering mess beneath him. 

“Just one more, darling, I promise. Think you can handle it?”

You shook your head. The overstimulation made your thighs tremble around his waist, and you were so sensitive that each time his cock pounded into you, your cunt pulsed around him, pushing him closer to the edge. 

“You can do it, love. Just one more for me, okay?” 

You opened your eyes to be met with the most beautiful sight the world could have to offer. Jamies hair fell over his eyes, damp with sweat, as was the rest of his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to meet his lips with a kiss. 

Speaking in tongues yeah we ain't done yet

“Oh fuck! Jamie, please, don’t stop- Mmhh…” You moaned, tangling your fingers into his hair. His face was buried between your thighs once more, and with each swipe of his tongue against your clit you felt yourself come closer to the edge. 

“I’m so close, please. Oh my- Fuck!” 

He didn’t stop, he didn’t slow down, he needed to hear you say his name again, it was like music to his ears. He dug his fingers deeper into your thighs as his eyes flicked up to meet yours, and that was all you needed to make you tumble over the edge. Your back arched and you dug your nails into his shoulders as you came, your slick coating his face as he continued to eat you out. A teasing glint in his eyes told you that he wasn’t going to stop any time soon

[companion-showdown]

Best companion to get intoxicated with: Round 0 Masterpost

the elimintation numbers on the posts themselves are largely wrong because I made a mistake and only realised when it was too late, its two per group except 14 and 15 which is 3

Day 2

Elimination Groups:

Group 8 (2 eliminations)

God the Computer

Hallan

Hass

Hebe Harrison

Hex Schofield

Irving Braxiatel

Jack McSpringheel

Group 9 (2 eliminations)

Jane Austen

Jason Kane

John (Another Girl, Another Planet)

Joseph (Oh No it Isn't)

Joseph (The Doomsday Manuscript)

Koschei

Laura Tobin

Group 10 (2 eliminations)

Lola Denison

Mark Seven

McQueen!Master

Miranda Who

Mother Francesca

Mother Mathara

Mr Crofton

Group 11 (2 eliminations)

Ms Jones

Narvin

Pandora

Peter Summerfield

Preacher!Master

Renee Thalia

Romana III

Group 12 (2 eliminations)

Ruth Leonidus

Sabbath Dei

Sam Bishop

Scarlette

Stratum Seven Agent

Tameka Vito

The Black Dalek Leader

Group 13 (2 eliminations)

The Earl of Sandwich

The Original Golden Dalek Emperor

The War King

Unnamed Courtesan (In the Year of the Cat)

V.M.McCrimmon

Valarie Lockwood

Wolsey

Group 14 (3 eliminations)

Ianto Jones

Toshiko Sato

Owen Harper

Andy Davidson

Gwen Cooper

Banana Boat

The TARDIS

Missy

Group 15 (3 eliminations)

Sally Sparrow

Larry Nightingale

Bannakaffalatta

Vincent van Gogh

Madam Vastra

Psi

Saibra

Beep the Meep

Seeding Groups

Group 8

Charley Pollard

Evelyn Smythe

Lucie Miller

Liv Chenka

Group 9

Bernice Summerfield

Fitz Kreiner

Frobisher

Iris Wildthyme

Group 10

Rose Tyler

Mickey Smith

Jack Harkness

Martha Jones

Group 11

Donna Noble

Wilfred Mott

River Song

Amy Pond

Rory Williams

Group 12

Clara Oswald

Bill Potts

Nardole

Yasmin Khan

Group 13

Graham O'Brien

Ryan Sinclair

Dan Lewis

Ruby Sunday

day 1 under the cut

Day 1

Elimination Groups:

Group 1 (2 eliminations)

Sara Kingdom

Bret Vyon

Delgado!Master

Morbius

Sutekh the Destroyer

Cessiar of Diplos

Duggan

Group 2 (2 eliminations)

Erato

Pangol of Argolis

Deedrix of Tigella

Soldeed of Skonnos

The Three who Rule

Varsh

Group 3 (2 eliminations)

Keara

Tylos

Tremas of Traken

Panna

Karuna

Aris

Group 4 (2 eliminations)

Richard Mace

Kamelion

King Yrcanos

Sabalom Glitz

The Kandyman

Karra

Group 5 (2 eliminations)

Adrien Wall

Alan Turing

B-Aaron

C'rizz

Captain Black

Captain Magenta

Carmen Yeh

Group 6 (2 eliminations)

Chris Cwej

Clarence the Angel

Compassion

Cousin Anastasia

Cousin Gustav

Cousin Intrepid

Cousin Justine

Group 7 (2 eliminations)

Cousin Octavia

D'eon

Death's Head

Eliza

Elspeth (Where Angels Fear)

Emilie Mars-Smith

Father Kreiner

Seeding Groups

Group 1

Susan Foreman

Barbara Wright

Ian Chesterton

Vicki Pallister

Group 2

Steven Taylor

Dodo Chaplet

Ben Jackson

Polly Wright

Group 3

Jamie McCrimmon

Victoria Waterfield

Zoe Heriot

The Brigadier

Sergeant Benton

Group 4

Liz Shaw

Mike Yates

Jo Grant

Sarah-Jane Smith

Harry Sullivan

Group 5

Leela

K9

Romana I

Romana II

Group 6

Adric

Nyssa

Tegan Jovanka

Vislor Turlough

Group 7

Peri Brown

Mel Bush

Ace McShane

Chang Lee

Grace Holloway

[happylandfill23]

hey babes x

welcome to my lovely little dumpster that may or may not be on fire hope ya have a great stay! here's a lil about me woohoo

☆ i'm ember aka the evil bisexual alien from pluto. or something. use whatever pronouns 4 me idc go wild

☆ i luv making art!! my art tag is styrofoamm if ya wanna check it out <3

☆ FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸 don't forget to do your daily click! and here are palestinian blogs that have reached out to me

☆ more about me under the cut xoxo

where can u find me??? other than the bog. ofc

☆ my other blogs! -- @styrofoamm (art blog), @ask-cyberdevils (oc ask blog), @murdocniccalsreactionimages (exactly what it sounds like), and cyberdevils' blogs totally not mine - @gu1t4rf41ry (pixie), @acexofxspades (ace), and @shags-shags (shags)

☆ youtube (i post song covers n art-related stuff mainly. but i also just kind of do whatever y'know a bit like this blog but probably slightly less annoying probably)

☆ spotify (self explanitory. js playlists no original music btw lol)

for a more comprehensive list/info on my tagging system, here's my links page from my custom blog setup :] (there's fun stuff in there!!)

i have a lot of interests. yay

☆ damon albarn's numerous projects (gorillaz, blur, the good the bad & the queen, solo music, etc) as well as jamie hewlett's numerous projects (gorillaz once again, tank girl, phoo action/get the freebies, the 16s even tho there's not much content of it i just think they're neat dot jpeg, etc)

☆ manic street preachers!!!!!!!!!!!!!

☆ more britpop/britpop-adjacent stuff (elastica!!!!!!, suede, pulp, lush, oasis, the stone roses, etc etc)

☆ other music too (bikini kill, nine inch nails, björk, fiona apple, skinny puppy, einstürzende neubauten, joy division, siouxsie and the banshees, david bowie, MF DOOM, mars argo, nirvana, julie, my chemical romance, poppy, radiohead, and i'm going to stop now. sorry there's so many jesus fuck)

☆ scott pilgrim :] (the comics, the movie, and the series! especially the series actually. never played the video game tho)

☆ um i luv comic stuff. and i plan on making comics in the future. i like a lot of comic stuff (tank girl, scott pilgrim as i mentioned b4, heartstopper, the st. hell series, nimona, the junji ito collection, etc) i also like reading books in general (some faves r the bell jar, solitaire, the spirit bares its teeth, and no longer human)

☆ daria/beavis and butthead

☆ i like movies too. woohoo (tank girl, rocky horror picture show, scott pilgrim again lol, velvet goldmine, perfect blue, nimona, labyrinth, the machinist, corpse bride, atomic blonde, and other stuff too i'm avoiding saying 'etc' again bcuz i've said it a lot)

☆ moomin! as u can tell from my moomin cookie dividers yippee hooray (ily moomin shop i hope i go again soon <3)

☆ collecting objects such as records/cds (maybe i'll show off my respective collections of those sometime), buttons, soda can tabs, cool rocks, small broken pieces of things that used to be something such as zippers or little fake rhinestones or perhaps the tops of acorns

☆ goin 2 concerts!! in order 4 the most part i've seen (not counting th openers) taylor swift (oh yeah ember lore i was super into her as a kid), depeche mode (2x), the rolling stones, queen w/ adam lambert, gorillaz, julie (2x), foo fighters, bikini kill, fontaines d.c., and paul mccartney!! my next stops r hopefully deftones, poppy, and/or pixies

ok that's enough interests 4 now figure everything else out on yr own lmao

currently reading: self-portraits by osamu dazai

currently watching: the day of the jackal, limmy's show!, cunk on earth (i <3 cunk on earth. constantly watchin it lol)

currently listening to on perpetual loop: for tomorrow by blur, revolving doors by gorillaz, satellite of love by lou reed

spotify playlist of my current faves (hopefully i'll remember to update it regularly lmao)

that's all!

thanks 4 stoppin by lol i hope i haven't scared u off yet with my strange demeanor xx

divider here!

[lewmagoo]

before the devil comes for you

summary ; the year is 1975. robert floyd is a young reverend haunted by demons from his past. fresh out of seminary, he is led to take up a backwoods church in a small mining town. there, he meets a woman who is in the midst of questioning the very foundation of her faith. as their worlds collide, robert soon finds himself tangled in a web of temptation and lies. with the past he’s spent so long trying to outrun quickly closing in, he is faced with a decision, in which he must either condemn the woman he loves, or turn his back on his faith.

playlist ;

west hills - the killers // house of the rising sun - alt-j // lonesome hunter - timber timbre // devil in me - jamie bower // washed in the blood - pokey lafarge // the preacher - jamie n commons // the calling - the killers // the curse - agnes obel // god’s gonna cut you down - johnny cash // i am - jamie bower // bad moon rising - thea gilmore // black wings - tom waits // lose your soul - dead man’s bones // hell and you - amigo the devil // dorian - agnes obel // beat the devil’s tattoo - black rebel motorcycle club // exit music (for a film) - mother falcon // wolf river - reignwolf // wolf like me - lera lynn // blood on my name - the brothers bright // devil’s spoke - laura marling // old time religion - parker millsap // the fruits - paris paloma // sing along - robert ellis // poor wayfaring stranger - narrow way // on blue mountain - foxygen // death of an angel - gonn // the devil is alive - wulven [listen here]

read here

tagging those who liked the original pastor bob concept (if you wish to be added or removed, please let me know!)

@rhettabbotts @roostersrooster @buckymcu12 @dissonannce @bigassnocash @bxbygvrllll @vintagemulti @nobody7102 @whisperofsong @benhardysdrumstick @burnerbitchh @callsignunsung @pijkwejk @todayithoughtof @topgunmaddie @cherrycola27 @hangmandruigandmav @angelbabyange @grapejellyyy @moonyscardigans @wh0re4ficti0nalm3n @opalthebae @petlaufeyson @pr3ttyboysmakemecry @poisonjinkxmay @bimbeeno @topnerd03 @beyondthesefourwalls @magentamistress @eighthwvnder @edensbuttercups @lenafromthenordiccoven @luckyladycreator2 @dojacatmarryme @breezy14fan @bradshawseresinbabe @paigewinchester67 @lunamooncole @citrusrising @flashyourgreeneyesatme @lenaandcalliope @withahappyrefrain @h0neyfire @shantellescrivener @itsmemy-dudes @phoenixssugarbaby @morgang-the-mage @bradshawsbitch @thedroneranger

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the lovely natalia <33 @jiminsproof a bit ago to reveal some "lasts" so, without further ado:

last song: american teenager, ethel cain - song of the year for the second year running, i fear. preacher's daughter you will always be famous

last movie: freaky friday - jamie lee curtis AND lindsay lohan milf performances???? five stars. put pink slip's take me away on spotify immediately

currently watching: house m.d. - binged my way through six seasons already and i'm showing no signs of slowing down. at this point i'm one more character playlist curation away from being institutionalised

currently reading: coded messages that kim taehyung leaves for me in his promotions and mvs. oh and high fidelity

current obsession: jungle's music videos. back on 74 was obviously the catalyst here but they're all phenomenal. additionally i have a pretty serious below deck problem

and there you have it. tagging a handful of favs if you feel so inclined: @cordiallyfuturedwight @aprylynn @pauls-mccharmly @somebodydoeslove @banghwa @monismochi @eoieopda @btscontentenjoyer @letmelovekoo @spicyclematis

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 4

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘏𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘴,"

summary: life has been perfect, just you and him, but the shadows of both of you and Joel's past has been haunting you again...

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, r4p3, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 4

masterlist of the series

previous | chapter 3

next | chapter 5

The sun seemed to shine a bit brighter these days, casting a warm glow over your life since Joel had become more involved in it. His presence brought a newfound sense of safety and comfort, not just for you but for him as well. Joel, once a cold and distant figure, began to soften, melting into a warmer, more open person whenever you were around. It was as if the world belonged to just the two of you, and the bond you shared illuminated both your lives in profound ways.

Joel was now a regular at church, attending Sunday services and every fellowship event with renewed purpose. His participation didn't go unnoticed, especially by Tommy, Ellie, and Maria, who observed the positive changes in him. Joel still remained a man of few words, guarded and cautious, but your presence had undeniably brought a light into his life, guiding him out of the shadows.

For you, Joel became the protector you desperately needed. Whenever your father’s temper flared, you could escape to Joel, finding solace in his arms. He calmed your storms, just as you eased his burdens, becoming each other's anchor. You often sneaked out together to the lake or climbed into the back of Joel’s truck to gaze at the stars. Those moments felt like the world stood still, with only the two of you and the infinite sky. Joel found himself no longer lost in the darkness; instead, he had found his light in you.

However, you both had to maintain a facade, keeping your relationship discreet to avoid the prying eyes of the community. Sneaking out, lying to your father about being at a friend's house, and stolen moments of intimacy became part of your routine. While you hadn't taken your relationship to a sexual level due to your trauma from Jamie, the nights spent cuddling, kissing, and talking were enough for Joel. Though he sometimes felt the stirrings of desire, he respected your boundaries, focusing instead on the depth of your connection.

Joel sometimes took you out of town, exploring Austin or Houston. You visited night markets, played in arcades, and strolled through bustling streets. Joel despised arcades, but the sound of your laughter and the sight of your carefree smile made every annoying game worthwhile. Every time you smiled, it was as if a sunbeam pierced through the clouds in Joel's heart, warming a place he had thought forever cold.

"Got another project comin' up," Joel said one evening as you sat together in his truck, overlooking the hills. "A big one. Tommy thinks it's too much work for the crew we got, but I reckon we can handle it."

"Tell me more about it," you prompted, even though construction details often went over your head. You loved hearing Joel talk about his work; the passion in his voice made you feel closer to him.

"It's an office building downtown. Gonna be a challenge because we gotta keep the old facade. Means a lotta careful demolition, precision work. Gotta bring in some new folks, too, ones who know their way around older structures."

You nodded, trying to visualize it. "Sounds complicated."

"It is," he admitted, a touch of pride in his voice. "But we got a good team. Tommy's been talkin' to some contractors. We need people who can do the job right, you know? Can’t afford any mistakes."

"I believe you can do it," you said earnestly. "You’re amazing at what you do."

He chuckled softly. "You’re sweet." Joel's hand reached up, his rough fingers gently caressing your chin. His touch was like a warm breeze on a chilly evening, comforting and electrifying at the same time. Joel’s gaze held yours, his brown eyes deep and intense, like molten chocolate, filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher but felt deeply within your soul.

Every touch, every look from him, made you melt. It was as if you were a snowflake landing on a sun-warmed pavement, vanishing into a pool of warmth under the intensity of his presence. You giggled, the sound light and musical, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, a smile playing on your lips.

Joel shook his head slowly, his smile spreading across his face, tender and genuine. "Nothin', darlin'," he said, his voice calm, gentle, and sincere.

Joel couldn’t fully grasp his feelings, but being with you made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in years. He knew this might be wrong, but it felt so good, like a burst of sunlight through storm clouds, casting colors on a world that had been grey for too long. Ever since Sarah and his wife had passed, his life had been a landscape painted in shades of grief and loss. Ellie had brought back some light, but what he felt with you was different, something more vivid, more profound.

His world had been a desolate canvas, splashed with only the darkest hues. But you were the burst of color, the brush of a vibrant dawn, illuminating the shadows that had consumed him. You were his beacon, guiding him from the darkness, painting his existence with the brightest of shades. And though it scared him, it also filled him with a warmth and a hope he hadn’t dared to feel in a long time.

***

After school, you found yourself in the familiar warmth of the kitchen, the comforting scent of vanilla and sugar filling the air. Your mother, in her element, was bustling around, gathering ingredients for a cake and cookies.

"Can you grab the eggs from the fridge, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, reaching into the refrigerator. As you handed her the carton, her hand brushed against your back, right where the still-healing bruises were. You flinched, unable to hide the sharp intake of breath.

Your mother's eyes widened, guilt flashing across her face. "I'm so sorry. Does..does it still...um hurt?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.

You forced a smile, shaking your head. "No, Mama, it's okay. It's getting better."

She hesitated, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of worry and sorrow. "I know I haven't... I haven't done enough to protect you," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry for that. I'm just... I’m so afraid of your father."

You placed a hand on her arm, trying to offer some comfort. "Mama, it's alright. I understand. Let's just focus on the baking, okay?"

Your mother nodded, her relief palpable. She turned back to the counter, trying to regain her composure. "So, have you noticed how Joel’s been coming to church more often lately?"

You tensed slightly at the mention of Joel, careful to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, I noticed."

Your mother smiled, though it was tinged with curiosity. "You know, he’s changed a lot over the years. He used to be so different when Sarah and his wife were alive."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity. You knew bits and pieces about Joel’s past but had never heard the full story. "What was he like back then?"

"Joel was a wonderful father and husband. He adored Sarah and Jane," your mother said, her eyes softening with nostalgia. "Jane and I were good friends. They were high school sweethearts, you know. Joel got Jane pregnant in high school, and they got married right after graduation. He worked so hard to provide for them."

You listened intently as your mother spoke, the rhythm of her words blending with the sounds of baking—mixing bowls clinking, the oven humming softly. Joel had never brought up his past daughter and wife when he was with you. It was as if a part of his heart was still locked away, guarded against the pain of revisiting those memories. You felt a mixture of sadness and curiosity, wishing he would open up to you but understanding his need to protect himself from that pain.

As your mother continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Joel’s heart was still closed off, like a house with the windows shuttered, sunlight struggling to seep through the cracks. "After they died, Joel was never the same," your mother said softly, her voice carrying the weight of her memories. "He isolated himself, barely spoke to anyone. He stopped coming to church, buried himself in work and alcohol. It was like the light went out of him."

You continued to bake, your hands moving automatically as you processed your mother's words. The more you learned, the more you understood the layers of grief and resilience that made up the man you had come to care for so deeply.

"Did you know his wife well?" you asked, curious about the woman who had once been such a significant part of Joel’s life. You felt a twinge of jealousy, knowing that Joel had once opened his heart fully to another woman, something he hadn't done with you yet.

Your mother nodded, her smile tinged with sadness. "Yes, she was one of my closest friends. Jane was kind and loving, always had a smile on her face. They were perfect together. Losing her was a blow Joel never really recovered from."

You felt a pang in your chest, imagining the life Joel had once had—a life filled with love and happiness that was abruptly shattered. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel empathy for him, understanding the depth of his loss and the strength it took for him to keep going.

Your mind swirling with thoughts. Joel had been through so much, yet he found the strength to care for Ellie and, in his own way, for you. He was like a fortress, strong and unyielding, yet vulnerable to the storms that battered him.

Your mother’s voice brought you back to the present. "Since he adopted Ellie, he's shown glimpses of the old Joel. But he still struggles. He’s still grumpy and distant. It was as if he built a wall around himself, shutting out the world to avoid more pain."

You couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for Joel. He had been through so much, yet he found a way to care for you and Ellie. "And now he's starting to come back to church," your mother said softly.

"It's good to see him more involved again. He deserves some happiness."

You smiled, though your heart was heavy with the knowledge of what you shared with Joel. "Yeah, he does," you agreed, hoping that somehow, against all odds, you could both find the happiness you deserved.

Your mom glanced at you, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. "I wonder what’s changed in him," she mused. "Maybe he’s finally opening up his heart for another woman."

Your body tensed at her words. She continued, "Ever since he became a widower, there have been plenty of women interested in him. It’s a small town, you know. Everyone knows everything. But he's always been so... cold and distant. Joel is handsome, successful, and a gentleman. Don't tell your father I said that." She chuckled, and you just smile to her.

Inside, you couldn't help but agree. Joel was indeed handsome and a gentleman, so different from your father. Your father, who should have been the epitome of kindness and morality as a preacher, was anything but. His exterior was polished and righteous, but inside, he was rotten. Joel, on the other hand, seemed rough on the outside but was truly good at heart.

Your mother sighed, "It’s good for Joel, though. It’s about time he moved on and built a new life. Maybe he’ll find a nice woman his age, someone who can be a good mother to Ellie. Adam needs his Eve, after all."

Her words made you uncomfortable, a knot forming in your stomach. You couldn’t bear the thought of Joel with someone else. The jealousy gnawed at you, knowing your mother would lose her mind if she ever discovered you were the reason for Joel’s recent change. You also felt a pang of insecurity, realizing how much older Joel was, how he could practically be your father. There were so many women in town who were more age-appropriate for him, attractive and mature, whereas you felt small and insignificant in comparison.

You focused on mixing the batter, trying to push away the uncomfortable thoughts. "Yeah, maybe," you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.

Your mother didn't seem to notice your discomfort. She continued to chatter about the town gossip, but your mind was elsewhere. You wondered if Joel ever thought about these things—marry a nice woman and built a new life? You knew he cared for you, but could he see a future with you, or was this just a fleeting moment in his life?

As you finished the cake and placed it in the oven, you couldn't shake off the thoughts swirling in your head. Joel was a beacon of light in your life, but the future felt uncertain. You wished you could ask him, but the fear of his answer kept you silent.

The cookies were done baking, and your mother placed them in two jars. "Take these over to Joel’s house and then to Tommy's," she said, handing you the jars and placing them in a sturdy tote bag to make it easier to carry on your bike.

You nodded, appreciating the excuse to see Joel. As you rode your bike through the familiar streets, the wind swept across your face, carrying the sweet scent of summer and the promise of evening. The sky was a canvas of blue and orange, painting a picturesque scene straight out of a movie. You loved this town—the southern charm, the way everyone knew each other—but part of you hated it, longed to escape its confines and the shadows that lurked within your home.

Arriving at Joel’s house, one of the bigger ones in the neighborhood, you parked your bike in the driveway and grabbed one of the cookie jars. Knocking on the door, as you always did instead of using the bell, you expected Ellie to answer since Joel’s truck wasn’t in the driveway.

The door opened, and instead of Ellie, it was Joel standing there. His face softened the moment he saw you.

"Hey, Mr. Miller," you said, deliberately using his formal title to tease him a bit.

Joel chuckled, his eyes warm. "Hey, doll."

You lifted the jar slightly. "Mom sent some cookies. She thought you might like them."

Joel took the jar from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. "Oh, that's nice of her, well, do want to come in?"

"Maybe for a little," You followed him inside, the familiar coziness of his home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Joel set the jar on the kitchen counter and turned to you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"You alright?" he asked, sensing your unease.

You smiled, trying to brush off your worries. "Yeah, just... thinking about stuff."

Joel stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your chin. His touch was rough but tender, sending shivers down your spine. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You nodded, looking up into his eyes. They were deep pools of warmth and safety, and every time you looked into them, you felt like you could melt. "I know," you whispered.

For a moment, you just stood there, lost in each other's gaze. Joel’s eyes held something you couldn’t quite decipher, a mix of emotions that made your heart race. You giggled nervously, breaking the silence.

"What?" you asked, feeling self-conscious.

Joel shook his head slowly, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Nothin'."

You giggled again. "You have to stop looking at me like that."

Joel raised an eyebrow, still smiling. He's leaning in to kiss you, "Like what?"

You blushed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Before Joel could kiss you, you both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, you stepped away from each other.

"Oh, hey, I thought I heard someone knocking," Ellie said, entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Ellie," you greeted her. "My mom and I made some cookies, and she sent you some. I thought I’d drop by for a bit."

Ellie grinned and walked over to you and Joel. She glanced at Joel, noticing his slightly flushed face, and raised an eyebrow. "You okay, Joel?"

Joel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, just, uh, a bit of dust or somethin'."

Ellie opened the jar and took a cookie. "These are great. Thanks!" She turned to you. Joel took a cookie as well, taking a bite and nodding in approval.

"You made this?" Joel asked, looking impressed.

You blushed a little. "Well, I just helping my mom."

"I take that as a yes and this is good," Joel said, his eyes warm.

"Thank you," you replied, feeling a rush of warmth from his compliment.

Ellie turned her attention to you. "So, how’s school? I haven’t seen you much lately."

You shrugged. "Just busy with a lot of things."

Ellie nodded. "I heard you’re in charge of the church dance troupe for the event next week."

"Yeah," you said, smiling.

Ellie smirked playfully. "And I heard Pastor Ben picked you as soon as he saw you. I think he likes you."

Joel’s expression changed, his jaw tightening slightly. "Who's Ben?"

Ellie glanced at Joel, oblivious to his jealousy. "Pastor Ben is the new young pastor who’s going to be taking over while Father Gibson is away for a couple of weeks."

"Yeah," you added. "He’s just helping out while my dad is on a trip to New Orleans for the church."

Ellie nodded enthusiastically. "He's super popular with the girls at school. They all think he’s really handsome."

You laughed lightly, trying to diffuse the tension. "He’s just being friendly, Ellie."

Joel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he forced a casual tone. "How old is he?"

"Not sure," Ellie said, shrugging. "Maybe late twenties?"

"Oh," he said.

Joel's face remained impassive, but the tension in his jaw betrayed his emotions. He didn’t want to show too much, to let on how much it bothered him that someone else might have an eye on you. After all, anyone would notice your beauty—your presence was like a beacon, drawing people in with your pure, radiant light. Men and boys alike found themselves captivated by you, your allure almost heavenly. Joel, despite not being religious, found himself silently praying that he could keep you to himself.

He knew that your beauty wasn’t just skin-deep. There was something about you that felt untouched, ethereal—a stark contrast to the gritty world he had come to know. You were his salvation, a glimpse of purity and hope in his otherwise dark and turbulent life.

Ellie changed the subject, sensing the awkwardness. "Anyway, are you excited about leading the dance troupe?"

"Yeah, it should be fun," you replied, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s a lot of work, but I think it’ll be worth it."

"Maybe you want to join, Ellie?" you said teasing her, "Oh hell nah," Ellie answered making a disgusting face, you chuckled.

Joel remained quiet, his eyes flicking between you and Ellie. You could tell he was still processing the idea of Pastor Ben, but he seemed to be trying to push it aside.

"Well, thanks for the cookies," Ellie said, taking another bite. "They’re delicious."

"Glad you like them," you said with a smile. "I should probably get going. I need to drop the other jar off at Tommy’s."

Joel’s expression softened as he looked at you. "Let me walk you out," he said. As Ellie remained engrossed in the cookies, Joel gently took your hand, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"When is your father leaving for New Orleans?" Joel asked in a low voice as he guided you towards the door.

"Tonight, around eight," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Joel’s eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Can you sneak out tonight?" he whispered, his hand lightly caressing yours.

You smirked and nodded, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

Joel’s eyes darted around, ensuring no one was watching. "I’ll pick you up behind your house at nine," he whispered, his voice a mix of excitement and caution. His rough hand felt like a contrast to your soft skin, a stark reminder of the different worlds you both came from, yet a perfect match in this moment.

You felt a flutter in your chest, a combination of anticipation and desire. His touch was electric, sending a rush of warmth through your veins. You wanted to hold onto this feeling, the thrill of the forbidden, the secret moments that were just for the two of you.

Joel leaned in and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to your cheek, ensuring no one was watching. You felt your heart race, the sensation of his lips lingering on your skin.

"I’ll see you later," he murmured, stepping back slightly. "Take care."

You nodded, trying to contain your excitement. "You too," you said softly, your voice tinged with the happiness you felt inside.

The whole way to Tommy’s house, you couldn’t stop blushing. Riding your bike, you felt the wind rush past you, the world around you vibrant and alive. The sky was a brilliant canvas of blue and orange, the southern landscape unfolding like a scene straight out of a movie. Each pedal felt lighter, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a sense of freedom and exhilaration.

Reaching Tommy’s house, you parked your bike and grabbed the jar of cookies. Knocking on the door, you took a deep breath, the smile on your face unshakeable. Tonight held the promise of something special, and you couldn’t wait to see Joel again.

The house was a quiet, still tableau of ordinary life, its corners cast in the muted hues of nightfall. Your mother’s soft, tired footsteps echoed as she busied herself with the last-minute preparations for your father’s departure. From your vantage point in the dimly lit room, you could hear the rumble of his stern, authoritative voice as he issued his final instructions for his absence.

“Behave yourself, Evelyn. Take care of your duties.” your father’s voice cut through the air like a blade to your mother, “Make sure the house is in order," He said to your mother.

Your mother then called you from downstairs. “Come say goodbye to your father before he leaves.”

You descended the stairs with a heavy heart, each step a reluctant march towards the formality of your father's departure. His figure loomed large in the dimly lit foyer, his stern face illuminated by the flickering light from the chandelier above. The space around him seemed to shrink under the weight of his presence, a constant reminder of his authority and control.

Your father, already dressed in his traveling attire, turned to face you as you approached. His expression was as impassive as ever, his eyes scanning you with a critical gaze that never quite softened. “I expect you to behave while I’m away. Keep things in order, take care of your house duties with your mother and don’t let any mischief slip through. Pastor Ben will be in charge for the next two weeks."

You offered a formal, almost mechanical embrace, your body stiff as you pressed against him. The touch was brief, a quick and emotionless exchange that spoke more of obligation than affection. His words felt like a final checklist, a list of expectations that you had long learned to adhere to.

With a nod, you managed a polite, “Yes, daddy."

As he turned to leave, he gave one last instruction, his voice trailing off as he stepped toward the door. “Remember, be a good Christian girl. Stay close to God. Make sure you’re not a burden to your mother.”

After he had gone, your mother’s weary voice called from the kitchen. “Sweetheart, would you like something to eat? There are leftovers in the fridge. I’m quite tired and I think I'm gonna go to bed early,”

You shook your head, feigning a lack of appetite. “No, I’m full, Mama. I’ll just head to bed.”

“Alright, dear,” she replied, her tone soft but tinged with fatigue. “Don’t forget to pray before you sleep.”

You watched her retreat to her room, her movements slow and burdened. The house felt emptier as she disappeared from view, and you knew it was time to execute your carefully laid plan.

With a quiet sigh, you slipped out of bed and crept to your window. The night was still and serene, the air cool against your skin as you pushed the window open. The backyard, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, felt like a secret world just waiting to be explored.

You carefully climbed out of the window, landing softly on the grass below. The night sky was a canvas of stars, each one a twinkling reminder of the possibilities that lay beyond the confines of your everyday life. The cool breeze ruffled your hair, carrying with it the scents of the garden—jasmine, freshly cut grass, and the distant promise of freedom.

In the darkness, Joel’s truck waited, a silent sentinel against the backdrop of the night. The vehicle was cloaked in shadows, its lights off to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. Your heart raced with anticipation as you approached, the thrill of the forbidden making your steps lighter and faster.

Sliding into the truck, you were greeted by Joel’s familiar presence. His face, partially illuminated by the dim interior light, softened as he saw you. A warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the same excitement that you felt.

Before you could say a word, Joel’s lips met yours in a passionate kiss. It was a moment of pure, unrestrained connection, the outside world falling away as the heat of his touch enveloped you. The kiss was fervent, a melding of stolen desires and whispered promises, each touch a testament to the intimacy you shared.

Joel’s hands were rough and warm, their contrast to your soft skin sending a shiver through your body. As he pulled away, his eyes held a deep, unspoken affection that spoke louder than any words could. “Hey there, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm in the quiet cabin.

The truck’s engine roared to life, a low, rumbling purr that vibrated through the seats. The world outside seemed to blur as Joel drove through the empty streets, the city lights casting fleeting golden streaks across the windshield. Each streetlamp was a beacon in the darkness, guiding you through a night that felt like a dream.

With every mile that passed, the weight of your ordinary life lifted, replaced by the vivid colors of this stolen moment. The night sky above was a tapestry of dreams and possibilities, a perfect backdrop for the intimate adventure you were embarking upon.

The truck rolled to a gentle stop at the top of a secluded hill, its path winding through the darkened landscape like a secret road leading to a hidden sanctuary. The night sky stretched out above, an endless canvas dotted with twinkling stars, their cold light a delicate contrast to the warm cocoon of the truck's interior. Joel’s touch was a constant comfort, the warmth of his hand against yours a promise of the intimacy you shared.

You and Joel made your way to the truck's open bed, where a soft blanket had been laid out. The fabric was cool beneath you, but the warmth of Joel’s body beside you quickly dispelled any chill. You settled in together, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace as you both lay back to gaze at the sprawling expanse of the cosmos.

The night was a silent witness to your closeness, the stars above flickering like distant, celestial eyes. The moon hung low, casting a soft, silvery light over the landscape, making the moment feel surreal and dreamlike. Joel’s presence was a soothing balm, his breaths steady and calming against the backdrop of the night.

As you both lay there, the peacefulness of the night was punctuated by your conversation. The topics ranged from trivial to profound, each word a thread weaving the tapestry of your shared moment. The serenity of the night made every laugh and whisper seem more intimate, more precious.

Then, Joel’s voice broke the quiet, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. “Tell me more about this Ben,” he asked, his tone light but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “Ben? Oh, he’s just this new pastor. He’s always paying attention to me, it's weird...my friends keep telling me like he likes me, but he's not really my type. He's...too boyish,” you said, trying to convey your disinterest.

Joel’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Boyish? He’s an adult.”

You smiled, playfully snuggling closer. “Yeah, but he’s not you.”

Joel’s eyes flickered with something akin to jealousy, though he quickly masked it with a nonchalant shrug. “Jealous?” you teased, noticing the subtle shift in his demeanor.

Joel gave a soft chuckle, his laughter mingling with the ambient sounds of the night. “I’m not jealous.”

You continued to tease him, your light-hearted jokes breaking through the quiet night air. Each laugh and playful nudge seemed to draw you both closer, your bond solidified by the shared humor and intimacy of the moment.

However, your mind wandered back to the conversation you’d overheard with your mother. The stories of Joel’s past, of Sarah and Jane, lingered like shadows at the edge of your thoughts. A wave of curiosity and a tinge of apprehension washed over you.

“Joel,” you began tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper, “how come you never tell me about your life?"

"What do you mean, doll?"

"About Sarah and Jane,"

Joel’s body stiffened beside you, his hand retracting from its position on your waist. The shift was palpable, a stark contrast to the easy closeness you’d just shared. His face hardened slightly, a veil of discomfort settling over his features.

He looked away, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. “What do you want to know?” he asked, his voice guarded and distant.

You felt a pang of regret, your heart aching at the sight of his discomfort. The stars above, once a symbol of wonder and possibility, now felt like distant witnesses to a moment of unspoken pain. You struggled to find the right words, the metaphors of your own emotions becoming tangled in the reality of Joel’s guarded heart.

“I...I just want to understand,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I know about your life, but it feels like there’s so much more you haven’t shared.”

"And you knew about mine, all of it," you said again.

Joel’s silence was heavy, a deep, almost tangible weight that pressed against your chest. The night seemed to stretch on forever, the stars above a cold, indifferent audience to the emotions playing out beneath them. The warmth of Joel’s touch was still there, but it now felt like a fragile thread, tenuous and delicate.

Joel’s gaze softened, but the weight of his past seemed to anchor him, pulling him into a place he wasn’t ready to share. “It’s not easy to talk about,” he admitted, his voice trembling with a mixture of regret and sadness. “Some things are just too hard to revisit.”

Your heart ached at his vulnerability, and you reached out, your voice gentle. “You can open up to me, Joel. I want to listen. You always listen whenever I’m down. I’m here with you,”

Joel’s eyes flickered with a storm of emotions, a mix of frustration and something else, but he remained quiet. You pressed on, your fingers lightly grazing his hand. “Do you ever think about them?"

A tense silence followed, Joel’s expression darkening. He clenched his jaw, struggling with the weight of his emotions. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, his voice strained and edged with anger.

You tried to close the distance, your hand still resting on his. “Joel, it’s okay to open up.”

But before you could say more, Joel’s frustration erupted. “I just don't want to talk about it!” he snapped, his voice sharp and louder than you’d ever heard.

You flinched, your heart racing as the sudden intensity of his reaction hit you. The night, once a haven of comfort and connection, now felt oppressive, the stars above seeming distant and indifferent to the turmoil unfolding below.

Joel’s eyes widened as he saw the fear in your gaze, and his anger dissipated almost immediately, replaced by regret and sorrow. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to—”

You tried to steady yourself, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. “It’s okay,” you whispered, though your voice wavered. “I’m sorry."

Joel’s face crumpled with remorse, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “No, no, it’s alright,” he said urgently, his hands trembling as they held you close. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You let yourself sink into his embrace, the warmth of his body a balm against the sharp edges of your fear. Joel’s arms were strong and reassuring, his apologies sincere as he gently stroked your back, his touch a contrast to the harshness of his earlier words.

The night around you seemed to settle, the tension easing as Joel’s grip tightened, holding you as if he could shield you from the weight of his own emotions. The stars above continued to shine, their distant light a reminder of the vastness of the world and the smallness of your own worries in the grand scheme of things.

Joel’s voice was soft now, filled with the weight of his remorse. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just...I just can’t talk about it right now.”

You nestled closer against Joel, the warmth of his body enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort. “It’s okay, Joel,” you murmured softly, your voice a gentle caress against the backdrop of the night. “I’m sorry to push you, but I want you to know that I am here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be right here, just like you are for me.”

Joel’s fingers brushed against your hair, a tender gesture that spoke volumes. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, a whisper of affection that traveled down to your cheek and finally to your lips. The kiss was brief but sweet, a promise of connection and understanding. He pulled you back into his embrace, both of you gazing up at the star-speckled sky.

The vastness of the night felt like a canvas, stretching out endlessly before you. You could feel the weight of your desires and dreams mingling with the cool night air, and a yearning for freedom began to take shape in your heart. “Joel,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “I want to go out. I want to get away from all of this. Will you come with me one day?”

The sincerity in your voice carried a longing for escape, for a fresh start where the past could no longer cast its shadow. You wanted to run away, to leave behind the chains of hurt and disappointment and start anew with Joel by your side. The dream of leaving it all behind, just the two of you, was intoxicating—a chance to be free from the constraints of your everyday lives and the ghosts of your pasts.

Joel’s eyes met yours, a flicker of determination lighting up his features. He could see the raw honesty in your gaze, the hope that shimmered like the stars above. “I promise you,” he said, his voice steady and sincere, “one day, we will. We’ll get out of here and start fresh. Just you and me.”

You felt a flutter of relief and happiness at his words, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your heart. The idea of a future together, unburdened by the past, seemed within reach now, a possibility painted against the backdrop of the night sky. Joel’s promise was a beacon of hope, a light guiding you through the darkness.

You lay there, side by side, under the vast expanse of the universe, the stars shining brightly above you. The night felt endless, full of potential and promise. The warmth of Joel’s presence, the softness of his touch, and the certainty of his promise wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, making the future seem just a little bit brighter.

In the quiet moments that followed, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life, one where the past was a distant memory and the present was filled with endless possibilities. With Joel by your side, the journey ahead felt less daunting, and the dreams of escape and freedom seemed like they could one day become a beautiful reality.

***

The sun cast a warm, golden light over the school grounds as you and your classmates, including Emma, practiced your dance routines for the upcoming church event. The afternoon air was filled with the sounds of music and the rustle of your movements as you and your friends rehearsed, perfecting every step and spin. The new Pastor Ben, fresh from Mexico with his wife Jemima, observed with an encouraging smile, his presence adding an extra layer of excitement to the practice.

Pastor Ben, young and charismatic, was the center of attention for many of the girls. His charm and good looks had quickly made him popular, and you could see why. Though you knew he was married, the admiration from your friends was palpable. Jemima, his wife, had been less present in the community, focusing on settling into their new life. You hadn’t interacted with her much, and you were more familiar with Ben’s friendly demeanor and the sparkle in his eyes that made him somehow likable among your friends.

As the practice came to a close, you and Emma walked outside the school, discussing the day’s rehearsals and sharing your thoughts on the choreography. The conversation was light-hearted, filled with giggles and the occasional sigh as you both reflected on the challenges and progress made.

Suddenly, Pastor Ben appeared beside you, his presence both surprising and pleasant. “Afternoon, girls. How did the practice go today?” he asked, his attention clearly focused on you.

You could feel the warmth of his gaze as he continued, “Any difficulties? How are you finding the choreography?”

You answered, your voice steady but with a hint of nervousness, “We’re making good progress. There were a few tricky moves, but we’re getting there.”

Ben nodded, his eyes never straying far from you. “You’re doing really well. I’ve noticed you’ve been putting in a lot of effort. It shows.”

Emma, ever the enthusiastic friend, chimed in, “Oh, we’re just working hard! It’s been a lot of fun, though. Don’t you think Pastor Ben has been so encouraging?”

Ben smiled at her but turned his attention back to you. “I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to check in and see how everyone’s doing. Is there anything you need help with?”

You felt a mix of emotions—flattered by his attention but also a bit uncomfortable given the context of the situation. Ben’s genuine interest was clear, but it was hard not to feel like you were under a spotlight.

“Thank you, Pastor Ben. I think we’re okay for now. It’s just a matter of practice,” Emma said.

He nodded, “If any of you ever need any extra guidance or just want to talk, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’m here to help.”

As Pastor Ben walked away, you felt a twinge of relief mixed with lingering confusion. You were still processing the interaction when Ellie’s familiar voice broke through, startling you slightly.

“Oh, that’s Pastor Ben,” Ellie said, a playful tone in her voice. She tapped you on the shoulder, making Emma and you turn to face her.

Emma grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yep, that’s the new hot pastor,"

Ellie looked between you and Emma with a knowing smile. “So, what’s the gossip on Pastor Ben?”

Before Emma could answer, you asked Ellie if she was heading home. Ellie shook her head, her excitement palpable. “Nope, I’m going out with Joel. We’re going to practice shooting. You know, for deer hunting. Joel and I usually do this.”

Just then, the sound of a truck horn pierced the air, and Ellie waved enthusiastically. “Ah, there’s Joel now. See you later, guys!”

You watched as Ellie walked toward the truck, your gaze meeting Joel’s for a brief moment. You tried to hide your blush, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest whenever Joel was near.

Emma then suddenly said, "Ah the town's DILF,"

You choked caught off guard. “What did you just say?”

Emma laughed, leaning in conspiratorially. “You know, DILF—‘Dad I’d Like to’—you know the type. Joel’s like the ultimate Southern gentleman. He’s got that rugged charm. He looks like he works with his hands, and I bet he smells like Marlboro Reds. Everyone’s talking about how lucky Ellie is. Goddamn, he's just hot,"

You felt your cheeks flush deeper, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “Emma, stop. He’s much older than us.”

Emma raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh come on, you’re telling me you’ve never thought about Joel that way? I mean, he’s your dad’s best friend in high school, but just tell me you have right?”

You glared at Emma, trying to hide the twinge of jealousy you felt. “Emma, that’s inappropriate."

Emma pouted in mock innocence. “Oh, come on! Don’t be so uptight. We’re just talking. I’m sure you’ve had some thoughts, especially with how close you are with Joel right?"

You shook your head, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions bubbling inside you. “Seriously, Emma, I don’t want to talk about this.”

Emma grinned, undeterred. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. But you have to admit, Joel’s a pretty interesting guy.”

You gave her a half-smile, trying to brush off the teasing. “Emma..."

Emma’s grin remained as she walked alongside you, her excitement infectious despite your lingering discomfort. You both made your way home, your thoughts tangled with the events of the day.

As you approached your house, Emma’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Hey, you know what? My parents are out tonight. How about a sleepover at my place? We can hang out and have some fun. It’ll be a nice break before graduation.”

You hesitated, “I don’t know, Em. I’ve got a lot to prepare for graduation.”

Emma’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oh, come on! It’ll be fun. Jim will be there too, and he’s a blast. Plus, you’ll have me to keep you entertained. What’s the harm?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your reluctance. “I don’t want to be the third wheel.”

Emma’s expression softened as she playfully pleaded. “Oh, please. It’ll be fine. Just come hang out. If you don’t, my parents might not let Jim over if it's just both of us. Pretty please?”

You sighed, weighing your options. Emma’s persistence was hard to resist, and you knew it would be a good chance to take your mind off things. “Alright, alright. I’ll come. But let me ask my mom first.”

Emma’s face lit up with joy. “Yes! Thank you! I promise we’ll have a great time.”

As you walked inside your house, you found your mom in the kitchen, preparing a simple dinner for herself. The smell of food filled the air, a comforting reminder of home.

“Mom, Emma invited me to a sleepover at her house tonight,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Is it okay if I go?”

Your mom looked up, her face reflecting mild surprise but also understanding. “A sleepover? Well, I suppose it’s fine. Just be sure to come home early tomorrow."

You nodded, relieved by her response. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be back early.”

With your mother’s approval, you quickly gathered your things and headed back outside to meet Emma. Her excitement was palpable as she waited for you by the front gate.

“Great! Let’s go!” Emma chirped, grabbing your hand and leading the way.

As you walked to Emma’s house, your mind was still clouded by the earlier events. The thought of spending the evening with Emma and Jim was a welcome distraction from the swirl of emotions you had been feeling. You hoped it would be a chance to relax and clear your head before facing whatever came next.

Hours later, the three of you were lounging in Emma’s cozy living room, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows on the walls. After an exciting board game session, you settled down to watch "Gone with the Wind." Emma and Jim sat close together on the couch, their whispered conversations blending with the movie's dialogue. You tried to focus on the screen, but their growing intimacy was hard to ignore.

Emma giggled softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You glanced over just in time to see them exchanging a tender kiss. Their kisses grew more passionate, and soon they were making out fervently. You turned your attention back to the movie, trying to block out the sounds of their affection, but it was no use.

"I'm going to take Jim to my bedroom," Emma said, her cheeks flushed. "Is it okay if you stay here alone?"

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yeah, it's fine. I want to finish the movie anyway."

Emma smiled and led Jim to her room, leaving you alone in the dimly lit living room. The hours passed slowly, the film a distant backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Their muffled voices and occasional moans filtered through the walls, filling you with a mix of curiosity and discomfort.

The next morning, you woke early and decided to make breakfast for everyone. The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the kitchen as you worked. Emma was the first to join you, her hair tousled and eyes bright.

“Thanks for breakfast,” she said, giving you a warm smile. “Did you have fun playing board games last night?”

You returned her smile, feeling a genuine sense of friendship. "Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for inviting me."

Emma smiling to you, "You're a good friend," you smiled at her.

You hesitated at first, then asked the question that had been on your mind. "So, uh... about last night... did you and Jim...?"

Emma blushed slightly but didn't shy away. "You mean, am I not a virgin anymore? Yes. and I'm really in love with Jim. He's so kind and supportive. We’re thinking about getting married after we graduate, moving to a big city like Austin or Houston to start our lives together. He can work in a garage, and I'll stay home."

Her words made you think of Joel, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. "Have you ever been in love?" Emma asked, noticing your pensive expression.

“I don’t know,” you replied hesitantly. “I think about someone a lot, but I’m not sure what it means.”

“And have you ever... you know, had sex?” Emma asked.

Your body tensed, the memory of Jamie’s forceful actions coming to mind. You decided to lie and shook your head.

“Typical preacher’s daughter, stay pure, hon,” Emma said, her tone sincere rather than mocking.

You swallowed, feeling a mix of discomfort and curiosity. “How does it feel like?”

Emma’s expression softened. “Well, when you’re with someone you truly care about, it can be really special. It’s not just about the physical aspect, but the emotional connection. It’s like sharing something deeply personal with someone you love and who loves you back. It can feel very intimate and fulfilling.”

You nodded, trying to understand her words. “But isn’t it scary? Does it hurt?”

Emma smiled gently. “It can be, especially the first time. But when you’re with someone who respects you and makes you feel safe, it’s a lot easier. It’s important that you feel comfortable and loved.”

You took in her words, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “What if I’m not ready for that yet?”

Emma reassured you. “That’s completely okay. There’s no rush. It’s important to wait until you feel ready and comfortable. And remember, there are other ways to show affection and care for someone.”

You felt a bit of relief. “Like what?”

Emma leaned in slightly, her voice gentle. “Like, for example, giving him oral pleasure. It’s a way to show that you care about him and want to make him feel good. But it’s really important that you’re comfortable with whatever you choose to do. Communication and mutual respect are key in any relationship.”

You blushed, feeling a mix of curiosity and embarrassment. “I don’t know much about that. It sounds kind of… complicated.”

Emma smiled warmly. “It can seem that way, but you’ll learn what feels right for you and your partner as you go along. The most important thing is to have open conversations and make sure you’re both on the same page.”

You nodded, absorbing her advice. “Thanks for explaining."

Emma’s words lingered in your mind as you processed what she had said. The idea of intimacy was something you hadn’t explored deeply, shaped by the teachings you’d grown up with. Your father’s sermons had painted it as an ultimate sin, a taboo wrapped in layers of guilt and religious doctrine. The notion of sex had always been shadowed by the fear of moral failure, a breach of sacred promises that could never be undone.

Emma’s perspective, however, was a stark contrast. She spoke of intimacy as a beautiful, shared experience between two people who cared deeply for each other. It wasn’t just a physical act but a manifestation of affection and connection. It was a way to express love, to show that you cherish someone in the most personal and vulnerable way.

You thought about Joel, and how his kindness had touched you. His presence was like a gentle light breaking through a stormy sky—offering warmth, comfort, and a sense of security you had rarely felt before. The idea of pleasing him, of sharing something deeply intimate, seemed like a way to express your gratitude, to show him how much you valued his care and support.

It was as if you were standing at the edge of a beautiful, uncharted garden, its entrance hidden behind a veil of mist and uncertainty. The garden represented a space of connection, where the blossoms of affection and mutual respect could flourish. The thought of stepping into this garden with Joel was both thrilling and daunting. It was a step into the unknown, where the flowers of shared experiences and emotional intimacy awaited.

You contemplated the possibility of finding a way to share this garden with Joel, to offer him a gesture of affection that went beyond words. Maybe through a physical expression of care, you could bridge the gap between your feelings and his, creating a shared space where love could grow and flourish.

Emma’s reassurance and gentle explanations provided a new perspective, one that allowed you to see intimacy not as a forbidden act but as a potential expression of love and appreciation. You wondered if perhaps, in time, you could navigate this new terrain with Joel, guided by mutual respect and deep affection.