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zepskies · 3 months

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The Miracle Man

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x F. Reader

Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.

AN: Here’s the prequel to Code Red! (But this can also be read as stand alone.) I hope you enjoy. And just a note, remember this was circa 2007, still the era of flip phones and iPods, despite the advent of the iPhone.

Word Count: 3,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for mature talk. A kind of meet cute, insecurities, angst, breakups, hurt/comfort, sandwiches, fluff and feels.

He was a lone ranger in the Wild West. His weapon of choice?

A dirty mop.

Priestly bopped his head to the music playing from his earbuds. His iPod was tucked in his right jean pocket while he speared the mop across the floor of the sandwich shop. It was three minutes to closing time on a Saturday night, and it was his turn to clean up and lock up.

He was looking forward to getting home, taking a shower, and diving face-first into his bed. But first, he just needed to kill three minutes.

Come on, come on, come oooon, he sang in his mind as the hands on his watch ticked on. While glancing down at said watch, he remembered it had been a gift from Tish for his birthday…

Three months ago. When they were still together.

Priestly heaved a sigh. What were you supposed to do with gifts from your ex that you actually liked? The gifts that made it into your everyday life, not just because they were from the person you thought you loved, but because it was actually hella practical and a nice accessory to keep on your person?

It’s just a damn watch. Don’t make it a big deal, he reminded himself. What was he supposed to do, have a ritual burning of everything Tish had ever touched?

That would take all damn night. And he definitely drew a line at his dick.

“Hello?”

The front door of the shop opened, the little bell Trucker installed chiming with too much cheer and startling Priestly out of his thoughts.

“We’re closed,” he said. But that was before he looked up, and had to pause in his mopping.

You were standing there, holding yourself in the open doorway with the cold breeze hitting your back. You were wearing a red cocktail dress and the highest black heels he’d ever seen, with your styled hair falling around your shoulders.

You were entirely too beautiful to be in this old sandwich shop, he thought. It had Priestly swallowing, frozen in time.

“Really? The sign says 10,” you pointed out. There was a level of desperation in your eyes. “Please, you’re the only place with the lights still on and I’ve been all up and down the block.”

Blinking out of his idiotic state, Priestly looked down at his watch again. It was exactly 9:59 p.m.

Well, damn. Got me on a technicality.

He held in a sigh.

“Okay, come on in,” he waved you over. Setting down his mop, he rounded the counter and went to man the register. He gave you a minute to peruse the menu. He noted that aside from your stunning attire, you had a cell phone in your hand that clearly couldn’t fit in that little purse hanging off your shoulder, bumping along your hip.

He couldn’t help but visually trace the curves of your hips and waist, back up to the sweetheart neckline of the dress, the deeper shade of your lipstick and up to your face.

But then he felt bad for staring, so he looked up heavenward before you caught him.

Meanwhile, your eyes drifted from the menu and dipped to his chest for a moment.

“Too bad I’m not gay,” you said.

What? Priestly frowned in confusion. But following your gaze, he realized you were staring at his yellow shirt, which read in big, 70s-style letters: Be Gay & Proud, Get a Free Drink.

His lips twitched at a grin, and he looked up at you. “D’you know what you want?”

You had a smile starting to play on your lips as well. You went back to considering your choices.

“Not sure, but I’m starving. What do you recommend?” you asked.

Priestly’s lips puckered as he considered the menu he knew by heart.

“Well, if you wanna go classic, I’d do a Spicy Italian on white bread. If you wanna be adventurous, we just added the Jalapeño Buffalo Chicken Club," he said. "But, if you wanna get crazy awesome, I can put on some Zeppelin and make you something special of my own design.”

He colored that last option with a gesture of his hand, a flourish, if you will. You tilted your head at him and smiled.

“Okay. Surprise me, Sandwich Man.”

Priestly snorted while he washed his hands again. “Sounds like the lamest superhero ever.”

“With his death-defying salami summoning powers,” you quipped, with a giggle that had him smiling as well.

“Nice alliteration,” he said. And he made a show of tying his apron back on. “Don’t worry, ma’am. Your late-night hoagie is safe with me.”

You tried to stifle another laugh while he worked his magic. From bread to meats and cheeses and toppings, Priestly was a master of his craft. He had that 12” hero wrapped and sliding across the counter towards you in record time.

“I call this the ‘Miracle,’” he winked. “You’ll see why. But that’ll be $10 even.”

You nodded and turned to the purse on your hip. You opened up the little velvety thing, but your face fell when all you found was your keys, not your credit card.

“No.” Your heart dropped into your stomach. You opened your purse wider and flipped through the satin insides, but you saw that it was empty. “You’ve gotta be shitting me. I know I had my wallet in here…”

And then it dawned on you.

“That fucking asshole,” you growled.

Priestly’s eyes widened. “Uh…”

Your head snapped up to his. “I had a different purse picked out for tonight. You know, one that actually had my wallet in it? But my know-it-all boyfriend had the nerve to say, ‘That one’s too shiny, looks kinda cheap. This is a restaurant at the Ritz-Carlton, not a hooker hangout.’ Can you believe that?”

Priestly blinked in confusion, but he realized that in your purse shuffling, you had no way to pay for this amazing sandwich he’d just concocted.

And now, you actually had the beginnings of frustrated tears in your eyes as you took in a shuddering breath.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I can’t—I can’t pay for this. I don’t have my wallet… Hold on, let me see if he’ll…”

You held up a finger and started dialing manically on your phone. You held it up to your ear and waited. Your tears sprang forth anew when the line just kept ringing until it sent you to voicemail.

“Figures,” you scoffed. “The one time I actually need this douchebag to answer, he ignores me!”

You slammed the phone down on the counter and covered your face with your hand as you sniffled. Priestly softened with sympathy. You seemed to be having a harder night than he thought.

He slid the sandwich your way, making you raise your head.

“It’s okay. This one’s on the house,” he said. “Looks like you could use a pick-me-up.”

Your watery eyes met his. “Really? You don’t have to…”

“No worries,” he replied, giving you a bit of charm in his grin. “I’ll even throw in a soda. Lady’s choice.”

Your lower lip trembled, but you were able to smile. With a quiet thank you, you wiped under your eyes carefully so your mascara wouldn’t run. Then you grabbed a Coke from the machine along with your sandwich from the counter.

“Do you mind if I eat here?” you asked, gesturing at one of the tables. “I promise I won’t leave a mess. I know you’re trying to close up.”

Priestly waved a dismissive hand. “Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

He went around the counter to take up his mop and continue where he left off in the cleaning process. But he couldn’t help but eye you every now and then. Curiosity was starting to eat him alive.

Had your boyfriend just dumped you here? Had you gone off alone? Somehow, he couldn’t see the first option happening. If you were his girlfriend, he would do his best not to let you walk away angry at him, let alone this late at night, without any money or even your ID.

“Are you coming from a party or something?” he found himself asking. You looked up from your second bite of the sandwich. You’d looked to have been truly enjoying it, uttering a moan that’d caught his attention.

“No,” you chuckled humorlessly around a mouthful of bread. “I was supposed to meet his parents. His rich, very bougie, hyper-critical parents. Somehow it didn’t occur to me that he was just like them.”

Priestly paused and leaned on his mop. He was hesitant, not wanting to disturb you while you were eating, but he was too damn hooked.

“So…what happened?” he asked. You scoffed and took another massive bite of your sandwich.

“Okay, you want to hear this? Fine,” you began. “So, I’m a stress eater by nature. Let’s just start with that.”

“Who isn’t?” Priestly supplied. Pursing your lips, you raised a black olive at him in a thank you gesture.

“But when I tell you I spent three months depriving myself to fit into this dress. No carbs, cheese, chocolate, or happiness.”

He grimaced. “That’s no way to live.”

“Exactly!” you concurred. “But I did all that so my boyfriend would have nothing to say when I finally met his parents for this dinner—to celebrate him graduating from med school.”

Priestly found himself dimming inside. Not only were you spoken for, but you were with a future doctor, no less. The only title Priestly had to his name was Sandwich Man.

“It started with the purse thing when he picked me up. Then when we get there, he keeps telling me how stuffy his dad is and how judge-y and critical his mom can be and how I’m a reflection on him,” you mocked in an impression of his voice.

“Then I find myself second-guessing every word that might come out of my mouth, and I’m too nervous to even eat the $60 plate of Chilean sea bass in front of me, and not to mention, there’s a glass of wine in my hand. I don’t even like wine!”

By now, it was all Priestly could do to keep up with your verbal spitfire. You were also gesticulating wildly with your sandwich the more worked up you got.

“I mean, I’m saying things I don’t say, and suddenly I realize that I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots for this man, I don’t even recognize myself,” you confessed. Your eyes lit up with a gleam of clarity. Your hands lowered down to the table, and after a beat, you continued eating.

“But then my boyfriend of over a year turns to me and says, ‘Why are you being so weird and frigid?’” you said. You met Priestly’s eyes. “I just, I got so mad. I wanted to choke him out with my napkin, you know?”

He bit his lip to stifle a laugh.

“So instead of violence, I grabbed the glass of pinot noir, or chardon-perignon-whatever-the-fuck, and I poured it in his lap,” you concluded. “Then I walked out. And I ignored his calls. And I kept walking. Then a nice guy made me a sandwich.”

Priestly had to smile at that. He knew there was a Ritz-Carlton in the area, but that had to be almost a mile down the street. You’d walked a long way in those crazy-ass heels.

He propped his mop against a nearby table and sat down across from you. He shook his head in wonderment. And inside, your words kind of rattled him.

I’ve wrapped myself up in so many knots, I don’t even recognize myself.

“You know, sometimes I really, really wish I was gay,” you said, gesturing at his shirt.

“O-Oh…really?” he asked, raising his brows.

“Yeah, I do,” you answered. “I’m a quick study. I could learn to eat pussy.”

If he had been drinking something, he would’ve spat it out. He mentally fumbled for a moment before he could articulate a response.

“Well, I don’t doubt you, but it can be an acquired taste. Though I happen to like it,” he replied, grinning mostly to himself. He didn’t even think about how it might come out though.

As soon as he realized what he was saying to a perfect stranger, his eyes widened and met yours.

"Uh, sorry," he said.

But you just chortled in amusement. Your blush intensified though, along with your smile as you took a sip of your soda.

“You’re uh…you’re pretty awesome,” he said. And he meant that.

You blinked in surprise. Your lips twitched upwards, a blush rosy in your cheeks.

“Yeah?” you asked. His smile deepened.

“Yeah,” he replied. “And for the record, I know I just met you, but…I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your face softened with a certain shyness, but you smiled at him through your lashes.

“Well, I appreciate that…” you trailed, realizing you didn’t yet know his name.

“Priestly,” he offered, along with his hand across the table. You slipped your smaller hand in his and gave him your name.

Though you quirked a brow at him. “Priestly? That’s your first name?”

Now it was his turn to get a little embarrassed.

“Uh, no,” he said, his gaze falling from yours. He scratched the back of his head, under the blue mohawk.

“Oh. What is it, then?” you asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled wryly.

“I think I do, or I wouldn’t be asking,” you countered. Your smile was playful though. Disarming, even.

“It’s um, it’s Boaz,” he admitted. You tilted your head, as if swirling the name around in your head. But you didn’t say it was weird, or stupid, or too biblical. You just smiled.

“Boaz Priestly. Interesting,” you nodded. Then you wrapped up your garbage, having eaten all of your sandwich. You made sure to collect every crumb, even though he’d told you not to worry about the mess. You got up to take it to the trashcan near the door.

“How’re you getting home?” he asked.

You bit your lip. The anxiety in your eyes told him you’d been pondering that same question. You let out a deep breath.

“I guess I’ll have to walk back to the hotel, try to get a ride from my b…my ex-boyfriend. Gotta get used to saying that,” you said. “I promise I’ll pay you back for the sandwich.”

“Didn’t I tell you it was on me? Don’t worry about that,” said Priestly. “But I’ll tell you what, let me give you a ride.”

You shook your head. “Oh, thank you, but we just met, and I—”

Just then, Priestly realized how his offer sounded. He didn’t want to creep you out.

“Ah, or I can get you a cab,” he said. “I doubt you want to see that guy again tonight, do you?”

You bit your lip, smudging some of the scarlet red lipstick there. It distracted him for a moment, but he returned his gaze to your eyes.

You sighed. As much as you didn’t want to impose again, you let Priestly call you a cab. He paid for it in advance after you gave the cabbie your address. Before you got in the car, you turned to Priestly and touched his arm.

“Thank you,” you said. “I promise, I’ll come tomorrow and pay you back.”

He smiled. “You can try.”

He earned your sweet smile back, and he watched you get into the cab. He tried not to raise his hopes up, but he really did hope he’d see you tomorrow.

And yet, he should’ve known it was too good to be true.

“Maybe she got caught up at work or something,” Jen tried to console him the next day at closing, after you didn’t show up.

“It’s Sunday,” he pointed out grumpily. He continued to wipe down Table 4 of some nasty residue of mayo and pickled radish.

“You don’t know what kind of job she has,” Piper interjected. She was making a tuna salad sub on wheat for the last customer, which she then passed on to Tish at the register. “Maybe she’s in retail, or she’s in the restaurant business too—or hey, a lifeguard! This is a beach town after all.”

“Or maybe, she just played you into getting free food and a ride home,” Tish suggested, with her usual brand of cutting sarcasm. It just tended to cut a bit deeper these days, whenever it was leveled at Priestly.

The post-breakup thing had been tense and awkward for everyone, and it still hadn’t normalized just yet in their little sandwich-making ecosystem. Jen shot her friend a look though, one that told her she was being bitchy.

The problem was, she’d only voiced what Priestly was thinking anyway, deep down.

“Amazing, serendipitous things don’t happen to me, Piper,” he said. “Not anymore.”

He continued cleaning.

Three weeks later, it happened on a Friday afternoon.

It was one of their busiest times of the week. Tish was at the register as usual, Jen was sorting through the inventory and bussing tables, and Priestly was making hero after hero like a fiend, alongside Piper. He was definitely living up to his name of Sandwich Man.

He was still able to recognize your voice near the register.

“One 12” Miracle, please,” you requested.

“Um…we don’t have that on the menu,” Tish replied. But Priestly looked over with a grin. He met your gaze, and found you smiling back at him.

Tish followed the exchange with suspicion.

“One Miracle, coming up!” Priestly called out.

He had the order ready within minutes, but he was painstaking about it, not an olive out of place. He wrapped it up nicely and walked it over to the register himself, placing it in front of you on the counter.

“Well, hi there,” he greeted.

A familiar blush spread across your face, just as endearing as he remembered. The only thing different about you so far was your clothes. No longer dressed to the nines, you were more casual in your jeans, ankle boots, and V-necked top.

In every other way, you were the same. It might’ve been making his heart trip up.

“Hi,” you said. “Got a minute, Miracle Man?”

Priestly ducked his head, hiding a more bashful smile. Before he could respond, Tish interrupted, “That’ll be $10.”

You nodded and handed her a $50 bill. She looked at you in confusion.

“The rest is a tip, for the hero makers,” you explained, glancing at both Priestly and Piper. He gave you an incredulous smile.

You little minx, he thought. He couldn’t say no if you were tipping Piper too.

But he did ask Jen to help fill in for him while he made his way around the counter to go to you. Tish just watched the scene unfold with a silent frown, like she was trying to make sense of what was happening. She always thought she’d be the first one to move on.

“Let’s talk outside. Little more privacy from the peanut gallery,” Priestly said to you, tossing a knowing glance over his shoulder. You spotted all the employees now watching you and Priestly closely.

You became a touch more shy as he led you out of the shop with a hand resting on the small of your back. You slipped your sandwich into a larger purse than last time. Then you looked up at him with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back here,” you said. “It got a bit…ugly, after that night.”

Priestly’s brows furrowed in concern. “Ugly?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” you assured him. “Lots of shouting and empty threats, then half-assed apologies. But I’m done with all that.”

Priestly considered that with a nod. “Well, good. I’m glad to hear you’re doing better.”

You stared up at his face, and you thought he really seemed to mean that. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling that familiar flutter in your stomach, not three weeks after breaking up from a year-long relationship. Even so, the night you walked out of this shop, you felt free. Like you could breathe again.

You felt like you.

So now, you leaned up and kissed Priestly on the cheek.

His eyes widened a fraction as he stared down at you. You smiled and grasped his hand.

“Would you maybe want to…ask me out sometime?” you asked. A nervous giggle escaped you, making him smile.

“Y-Yeah, I would. If you’re sure you want me to,” he replied. In the past, maybe he would’ve let his excitement get the best of him. He’d be trying to jump at this chance. Experience had taught him not to hope too hard though. Sometimes, getting what you wished for backfired in your face.

You squeezed his hand, earning his attention.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked. Your smile became teasing before you used his words against him. “From what I’ve seen so far, you’re pretty awesome. But mostly pretty.”

He had to laugh at that. Pretty was not something he’d ever been called in life. Weird, freak, try-hard goth—that was all familiar territory. His tattoos and piercings tended to bring that out in people.

But he gathered some courage and squeezed your hand back.

“Well, you’re beautiful,” he said, thumbing at your chin. His eyes met yours and got lost there for a moment. “Uh, really beautiful.”

You blushed further and bit your lower lip out of habit. It drew his gaze, and he gained a little more courage. He tilted your chin upwards, so he could find those lips easier in a kiss. Your fingers curled in the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His hand found your cheek as he angled deeper into the kiss.

Despite the chill on the air, the California sun was warm and beating down on you both.

It was the perfect day for a Miracle.

AN: How I love Priestly lol. If you liked this, let me know! 💜

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BP Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @sanscas @kaleldobrev

@waters-2567 @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @idiotdyslexic @heartlessdelusions @chriszgirl92

#The Miracle Man #Code Red Prequel #10 Inch Hero #Boaz Priestly #Boaz Priestly x reader #Boaz Priestly x female reader #Boaz Priestly x you #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #Priestly x reader #Priestly x you #Priestly #Priestly x female reader #zepskies writes

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thebiggerbear · 3 months

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Jensen Ackles Characters Masterlist

Dean Winchester from Supernatural

Soldier Boy from The Boys

Beau Arlen from Big Sky

Alec McDowell from Dark Angel 2000

Jason Teague from Smallville

CJ Braxton from Dawson's Creek

Tom Hanniger from My Bloody Valentine 2009

Jake Gray from Devour 2005

Boaz Priestly from Ten Inch Hero

Russell Shaw from Tracker

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles characters masterlist #dean winchester #soldier boy #beau arlen #alec mcdowell #tom hanniger #jake gray #boaz priestly #jason teague #fanfiction #thebiggerbear #jensen ackles #actor: jensen ackles #russell shaw

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wisefoxluminary · 11 months

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Hi, I am considering to write a headcanon/imagines book on Wattpad about Jensen Ackles and his characters and I don’t where to start. I want requests on what I should write with them.

Here is the following characters I will be writing about -

Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Soldier Boy/Ben (The Boys)

Alec McDowell (Dark Angel)

Boaz Priestley (Ten Inch Hero)

Jason Teague (Smallville)

Beau Arlen (Big Sky)

Jason Todd/Red Hood (Batman: Under the Red Hood)

I will not writing any inappropriate content or anything that involves Y/N. I may write smut if I feel comfortable.

Thank you

#jensen ackles #headcanon #i need ideas #my brain is scrambled #I am obsessing over this man you have no idea #should it be individual headcanons or headcanons with them all?#dean winchester #soldier boy #alec mcdowell #beau arlen #boaz priestly #jason teague #jason todd #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles characters

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deanbrainrotwritings · 8 months

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— ANY WAY THAT YOU WANT ME

SUMMARY : he’s clingy and doesn’t know how else to feel close to her. even though it gets them both riled up, it’s nice while it lasts.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw(18+), cockwarming, fluff

WORD COUNT : 1.2k

A/N : omg, y’all, HEY. I’m sorry. LMAO, see y’all next week??? XXXXXX

“So you’re just not gonna move?” He asked, lifting his hips off the couch and lowering his pants. She nodded, about to explain some more to him. “Did I do something wrong?” He asked immediately after, taking in the view of her in a pretty pastel-blue bralette and matching underwear, which she was starting to push down her legs.

“No,” she laughed, “why would you think that?” She straddled him, entertained by the way he tugged on his cock while he stared at the side, deep in thought and his only response was a shrug. She took his chin in her hand, made him look at her so she could kiss him softly. “This is supposed to be enjoyable and lazy.”

He hummed softly, sounding a little doubtful, as if he already knew himself. His eyes remained glued on her face when she took him in her hand, not teasing herself the way she usually did, just pressed the soft head against her entrance, gently pushing into her, stretching her easily with the warm slickness that was there.

She moved up and down slowly and he moaned, but he knew she was just making the way down easier for herself, less painful, more comfortable. He let her, grasped her thighs and looked away from her curious face to observe how wet she had his cock. He cursed softly, found himself so desperate he thrusted upwards sharply to push himself all the way in, her little gasp pulled him out of his daze.

“Shit, honey,” he said worriedly, “did I hurt you?”

“No, just surprised me,” she smiled at him reassuringly, kissed his forehead and her lips lingered before she pulled away. He relaxed and nodded, his thumbs brushing gently over her hip bones, daring to look back down where she was now full with him. She must have been looking at him the whole time, because she grabbed the hem of his shirt, and lifted it up his tummy to get a better look at herself too. He felt himself throb inside her, knowing that she wanted to look, that she was enjoying this nearly as much as he was starting to, it made the muscles in his abdomen tighten delightfully.

“Take it off,” he murmured, “I’m kinda hot,” he added.

“Yeah, you are,” she flirted, but started to lift his shirt up, helped him take it off and threw it on the other side of the couch. He rolled his eyes at her at first, but then nodded, taking the compliment proudly. He slid his hands up her sides, wiggled his fingers underneath her bralette to cup her breasts, squeezing gently.

Her nipples tightened under his gaze. He felt her walls squeeze around him when his thumbs brushed over her nipples, nearly stopping himself from going any further because he didn’t think he could just sit there and not have sex with her while he was inside her. It was worse when she squirmed, her back arching slightly, her hips undulating just barely, but enough to nearly drive him crazy.

“How long do you expect me to last?” He asked breathily, shifting under her. She looked down at him, amusement sparked so obviously in her eyes, her lip twitching up into a smirk. “Don’t get me wrong,” he murmured, pinching her nipples roughly, “love feeling you this close, but I can’t do it.”

“Then stop doing that,” she said with a chuckle. She grabbed his wrists and moved them out from her silky bralette. He pouted at her, his eyes falling back to the thin material that covered her breasts, her nipples poking through. “Hey, let’s do something,” she suggested, forcing him to tear his eyes away from her chest.

“Watch a movie?” He asked, more than a little disappointed when she moved off his lap. He stared at how slick he was. Looking up at her, he saw how triumphant she was by the beads of precum that quickly rolled down his dick. He blushed, nearly pulled his pants up to cover himself, but she stopped him.

“Take all your clothes off,” she ordered.

“You too?” He asked, immediately doing as she told him to do. She looked down at herself and shrugged with a nod, and lifted the bralette up and off her body. He quickly stood up once he was naked, grabbed her waist and latched his lips onto her nipples. Her hands went to his hair, a title gasp slipping past her lips, knowing he was trying to tempt her, when he turned her and gently pushed her into the couch.

“Boaz,” she warned, but he ignored her. His fingers went up her thighs, between her legs to massage her clit expertly. His teeth gently scraped her nipples, giving little licks to cover them in his saliva and moved his mouth down her stomach, left open-mouth kisses down body and replaced his fingers with his mouth to play with her clit. She grabbed his face and pulled him off her, “okay, now it is a punishment,” she told him breathlessly.

He whined, moved up her body to kiss her lips passionately, silently asking for forgiveness and to stop her from going through with her newest idea, which to him was more tortuous than pleasurable. She kissed his back, held his face gently in her hands, tilting her head to let his tongue in. The softness and the warmth of it against her own made her moan, tasting something fruity and sweet in his mouth.

She would love nothing more than to have sex with him, but she wanted to push his buttons. She wanted to see how far he would let himself go, before he simply couldn’t just sit there. She didn’t think he’d get so desperate as quickly as he did, but even now, he rolled his hips against hers, sliding his cock through her folds and nearly pushing himself back into her, but a sharp smack of her small hand on his ass made him pull away in shock.

She laughed softly, leaned up to kiss him again, wrapping her arms around his neck because she really wanted to give in now. But she didn’t, she slipped out from under him and he sat down, staring after her naked body bending over to get the TV ready for whatever she wanted to watch. It was just Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which made him relax, but the little smirk on her lips when she turned to face him made him excited and anxious all at once.

“You’re not serious,” he said incredulously, but she appeared far too amused to be joking. She took his bearded chin, smiled down at him, her thumb gently swiping across his lower lip so they automatically parted, ready for a kiss. She gave him one, a small, teasing kiss to his parted lips, innocent on the surface but so full of mischief.

“Let’s see how long you last,” she murmured, sitting back in his lap. He tensed up, grabbed her hips and didn’t stop her from sliding back down his dick. His head fell back against the couch, trying to suppress a groan of pleasure and failing, his hands moved to her ribcage.

“I can tell you now,” he muttered, “a few more minutes.” She laughed, rested her head on his shoulder and kissed his jawline. He smiled at her despite how tense and turned on he was, trying hard to ease his body and give her a few moments of peace before he tried again to go for what he wanted.

taglist

@rominaszh @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx

main masterlist

boaz priestly masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#boaz #boaz priestly #boaz priestly x reader #ten inch hero #jensen ackles #boaz priestly smut #6.1

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cheynovak · 2 months

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Help a girl out

Update.... It's done. I couldnt wait.

Y'all find it: Here

------

Hi everyone!

My ex-punk teenage self is trying to convince me to write a fanfic on Priestly, I seem to read a lot of SPN/the boys stories ( And I love them, don't get me wrong. 🥰 )

But I want to read more Boaz fanfiction since he was one of my first crushes. (I didn't even knew who Jensen was back then.)

So my questions for you:

Would you like those stories, or is he just a character we like but don't love enough to read about?

AND what kind of story do you like to read?

Oh!! And one other thing! If you have a Boaz Priestly story written... Feel free to tag me. ❤️

#fanfic #fluff #smut #soldier boy #the boys #the boys amazon #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #x reader #boaz priestly #boaz #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles #jensenedit #spn cast #fanfiction #fantasy

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meatmandean · 2 years

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jensen ackles' roles rated by their daddy issues (part 2)

jason teague (smallville)- 7/10 his dad cut him off and he did not have a good relationship with him at all. he only got a 7 though because he had MUCH bigger mommy issues.

jake gray (devour)- 10/10 he had a tense relationship with his adoptive father who was played by jensen's real life father. the layers there alone would give him a high score but then we also find out that jake's girlfriend is actually his biological mother who is actually satan. i don't know if that would make satan his mother or his father but nevertheless i think that gives him a perfect score.

boaz priestly (ten inch hero)- 8/10 if i remember correctly, he directly says something negative about his father at some point in the movie. but even if he doesn't, it shouldn't matter. the man has a dyed mohawk, multiple piercings, and regularly wears eyeliner. he hates his father for sure.

tom hanniger (my bloody valentine)- 7.5/10 he was estranged from his father but i'll be honest tom had some much bigger issues going on than just the daddy variety. that definitely took a back seat here.

jason todd (batman: under the red hood)- 9.5/10 his adoptive father is batman and he grows up to be a murderer and a crime boss out of resentment. you do the math. .5 deducted cuz i didn't get to physically see jensen cry about this.

dean winchester (supernatural)- 20/10 literally no character has ever been more defined by their daddy issues than dean winchester. literally everything he does can be traced back to his relationship with his father. he is the blueprint for characters with daddy issues.

bruce wayne (batman: the long halloween)- 4/10 i feel like batman SHOULD have more daddy issues but really he's just sad his parents are dead. which could count, i suppose. he had alfred as a positive father figure, though, so i think his bigger issues are everything else about him.

beau arlen (big sky)- 5/10 barely know this man yet but i'm giving him a preemptive half score because it's a safe bet this old fashioned texas cop man will have a few issues with his father.

soldier boy (the boys)- 10/10 jensen and kripke combine forces again to not only make this character HAVE daddy issues but we also actively got to watch him GIVE homelander brand new daddy issues for the first time! great work guys, thank you so much.

(part one)

#jensen ackles #hof*

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shane-west · 1 year

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joels-ellie is now shane-west

I always knew that I would come back to this url - I've been a fan of Shane for so long and I still can't believe that I managed to get it! I might change to character or themed from time to time, but this will definitely be my "main" url from now on.

tagging a few mutuals 💖

@boaz-priestly @tennant @harrison-ford @nikita-mearss @phildunsters @chaoticevils @ethanhunt @peeta @anya-chalotra @payidaresque @laurens-german @mia-goths @bobafettsjets @kenshivrome @xenobites @pitt-emma @stuart-townsend @davidlynch @camila-morrones @bellaramsey @leonardbetts @zen-coleman @heartmis @javier-pena @usergamoras @dadjoelmiller @eddiemunsens @phoebejanestonkin

#text #me #we knew this was coming #url change

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 year

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♫ ― 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓!

⋆ these are characters that i write for that don't have a particular fandom, usually movies or if i don't want to write for the rest of the cast of a certain series!

joel miller

tess servopoulos

jim hopper

boaz priestly

jonathan byers

ss harley quinn

hughie campbell

murphy macmanus

annie "starlight" january

mike schmidt

kathani "kate" sharma

#✰ ― meau's masterlist !#misc masterlist #joel miller #jim hopper #boaz priestly #jonathan byers #suicide squad harley quinn #hughie campbell #murphy macmanus #annie january #kate sharma #mike schmidt #x plus size reader #x chubby reader #x fem!reader #wlw fanfiction #lgbtq

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jensens-ackles · 1 year

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boaz-priestly is now jensens-ackles

I am surprised I didn't come back to this url sooner; after changing blog and using some seasonal/character focused url's I am back to being *me* again. I may change from time to time (at Halloween for example) but this is my main URL from now on.

I am also tracking the tag #tuserjinxie if anyone wants to tag me in their edits or posts ✨

#url change #sara.txt #i'm surprised it took me this long to do this #also new theme because I am *extra* that way

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zepskies · 6 months

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Code Red

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Female Reader

Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

AN: So I didn’t think I’d ever write for this character, but it was prompted by a lovely anon and encouraged by my friend @thatonewriter15! I hope you enjoy. ❤️

Song Inspo: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. “I’ve found a love…”

Word Count: 1,500 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, suggestiveness, mega fluff

He was in the zone.

Four six-inch double buffalo chicken clubs with banana peppers on whole wheat bread (gross, but he wasn’t the one eating ‘em), two spicy Italians, and a tuna on rye.

Priestly wrapped them up with practiced precision and slid them down the line to Piper, Mission Impossible-style. She smiled at his antics and took them and brought them over to Tish at the register.

Priestly had another turkey and provolone on his docket, hold the mayo, when his cell buzzed in his pocket. Today he actually did have pockets. As in, he was wearing joggers, boots, and a graphic tee that said: NO TEQUILA, NO ENTRY.

He swiveled his phone in his hand like a drummer with a drumstick. He smiled when he saw your name flashing across the screen, and he answered it.

“Hey, Beautiful. What’s up?” he asked.

“Boaz, I need you,” you said. To his ears, your voice was sultry, and a bit strained.

He perked up with raised eyebrows.

“What’s holding up the turkey and cheese?” Piper asked.

Boaz held up a finger to the blonde and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands busied themselves with the next sandwich order, but he was all too attentive to your every word.

“Oh yeah?” he replied to you. His smile deepened. “Well, that’s convenient. Because I’m craving some of you, baby.”

You gave a breathy chuckle. “Normally I’d take you up on that, but no. I need you. As in, I really need you to do something for me.”

Priestly arched a brow. His brain was already filling up with ideas of how he could best help you. He mentally took an inventory of the “tools” in your nightstand drawer, and which ones he could best use to his advantage when he—

“Uhh, well, I got about one more hour in my shift,” he said, lowering his voice, even as it deepened a notch. “But if Jen covers me, I can be outta here in half the time.”

“Oh my God, good,” you gasped. “I’m in so much fucking pain, you have no idea.”

Priestly blinked, and any thoughts of kinky fun times came to a screeching halt. Concern took over when he realized that the strain in your voice wasn’t from the sexy kind of need.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“I’m out of Midol, my uterus is rioting like it’s a Vietnam War protest, and…oh yeah, I need more tampons too,” you said. “But I legitimately cannot move from this couch.”

Priestly couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Ech, I hear ya. Are we in a Code Green, Code Yellow, or Code Red situation?”

Jen glanced over at him from where she was mopping the floor, and she gave him a questioning look.

What’s wrong? she mouthed.

“Code Red, definitely,” you answered with a sigh.

Priestly grimaced in sympathy. He mouthed back to Jen, Code Red.

She nodded in female understanding, and raised a hand that said, Say no more.

“Okay, yeah,” Priestly replied to you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You released a sigh of relief. “And if you want to throw in a Snickers, I wouldn’t hate it.”

He chuckled at that one.

“You got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in T minus an hour, give or take.”

You groaned. “Can’t you just steal a DeLorean or something?”

“You know, I could, but that would mean I’d be going back further into the past before you even needed to call me, and I’d still probably be making sandwiches since I’ve been working here since damn near 2000 B.C. But you know what, they should really call that movie Back to the Present, since they don’t actually go to the future until—”

“Okay,” you had to laugh, even though it was edged with discomfort. “I’ll see you later.”

At the supermarket, after his shift at Beach City Grill, Priestly had most of the supplies he needed for a successful mission. All he was missing was his old enemy on Aisle 2.

Once again, he faced a wall of tampons. All bright colored boxes and numbers and sizes…

Okay, not Code Green, so not the slender ones that might as well be match sticks. Not Yellow, so no to Regular…ah! Here we are. Super Plus.

AKA: Code Red. Complete with leak guard, no latex. He grabbed the blue box and threw it into his basket of essentials, including no less than three assorted chocolate bars and a pint of Ben & Jerrys. He knew his girl, and you liked your Half-Baked ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie pieces.

He brought over his haul to the checkout line. Sure enough, Gerry, one of the locals, was finally old enough to buy a case of beer by himself. He glanced at the blue box Priestly was taking out onto the conveyor belt and smirked.

“No slender regulars this time?” Gerry remarked.

Priestly’s smile was tight. “No, Gerald. Slenders are for pussies.”

“Literally,” the blonde beanpole snorted. “What, your girlfriend got a heavy flow this month?”

Priestly rolled his eyes, and his mouth pressed in a line. The word flow still kind of grated on him like nails on a chalkboard, but what irked him more was this guy imagining any part of your intimate parts.

“All right, my girl’s flow is none of your business,” he said. “Once you hit puberty and grow your first pubes, you’ll understand.”

Gerry floundered while Priestly continued on to make his purchases. Even the cashier was smiling, trying not to laugh as he silently gave Priestly his props for a burn well made. Priestly shot the guy a nod and a smile before he left with his spoils.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Priestly sing-songed.

He stepped through the door with his keys still jangling in his hand. He was trying to balance the big bag of groceries while closing the door to the apartment he shared with you.

Your head perked up from the living room couch, and your hand slowly curled up, beckoning him over. Priestly obliged you. He peered over the side of the couch and smiled at the way you were all curled up under a throw blanket, already in your pajamas, while FRIENDS reruns played on the TV.

“Finally,” you said with a tired smile. But not the kind of finally that just meant you were impatient for the goods he carried. The kind of finally that also meant you were happy to see him.

He laid a comforting hand on your head, leaned down, and pressed a kiss above your brow. You held him there by the collar of his shirt, prompting him to kiss you for real. Your hand moved up his tattooed neck and your nails gave the back of his head a little scratch, careful not to disrupt the blue mohawk.

He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, just enough to try and gauge how you were feeling.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.

“Like a beach umbrella in a hurricane,” you replied wryly. “You got the stuff?”

Priestly held the grocery bag tucked under his arm like it was a drug deal.

“Oh, I got the stuff, if you got the money,” he said.

You nodded, and your small smile turned mischievous. “I got your money, Big Man.”

With your hand delicately hooked behind his neck and the other gliding up his arm, he didn’t realize he was falling into a trap.

You tugged his arm hard enough to try and get him to fall over the back of the couch.

“Hey!” he yelped. Yet he also laughed while you tried your best to pull him overboard.

He had to toss the bag of groceries to the floor next to you, but he managed to get over and onto the couch without crushing you. He probably smelled like old sandwich and mayonnaise, but you didn’t seem to care.

You just helped him settle in behind you, with your back to his chest. This was the only way you’d find comfort for your lower back. It had been aching since you woke up this morning.

You grabbed his closest hand and guided it under your overlarge sleep shirt, then under the waistband of your panties. You laid his warm hand flat against your cramping lower belly.

Priestly pressed a kiss behind your ear and tucked his arm underneath your head. He felt the rise and fall of your sigh as you leaned back against him, and his smile softened.

“You’re gonna fall asleep without digging into your treasure trove,” he teased. “I even got your favorite ice cream.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder in interest.

“Half-Baked?” you asked.

“Yep, for extra brownie points. Eh? See what I did there?”

Your body shook with a quiet laugh. You reached your hand back to touch his bearded cheek this time. Your fingers toyed with his many earrings.

“Did you know that you’re my favorite human?” you said. “Like, ever?”

He smiled against your neck. “Could’a sworn I was your third favorite, behind Ben and Jerry.”

“Nope, just you,” you said, snuggling back further into his warmth. “Thank you, baby.”

Priestly realized then that he’d found it.

He’d really, honest to God found the life he didn’t think he’d get, with a woman who didn’t want him to change; who just wanted him to be here.

Though he smirked when you reached for the bag and dug out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

You giggled. “Shut up.”

AN: Priestly was such a fun character lol. I rewatched 10 Inch Hero this past week and this was the first thing I thought to write! If you liked this, let me know! (And if you want more Priestly.) 😘

Read the Prequel!

If you liked Code Red, read the start of their story:

▶️ The Miracle Man

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

(Lovelies from my "Everything" tag list. If you want to be tagged on Priestly stuff specifically, check out the Tag List link in my bio.)

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989

#Code Red #10 Inch Hero #Boaz Priestly #Boaz Priestly x reader #Boaz Priestly x female reader #Boaz Priestly x you #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #Priestly x reader #Priestly x you #Priestly #Priestly x female reader #zepskies writes

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thebiggerbear · 4 months

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Boaz Priestly Masterlist

Priestly Tag List: @pieandmonsters

dividers by @firefly-graphics

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writercole · 2 years

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September '22

Good morning and welcome. I'll be your librarian today. A little housekeeping first:

Patreon has been deactivated. It's too much stress for me right now.

Requests are generally always open for Supernatural, Marvel, Peaky Blinders, Top Gun: Maverick, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Star Trek, Han Solo, Poe Dameron, Charlie Young, The Boys, Sons of Anarchy, Boaz Priestly, Tom Hanniger, and Rhett Abbot as well as various characters from Tom Hardy, Chris Evans, Chris Pine, Glen Powell, Lewis Pullman, Danny Ramirez, and Sebastian Stan.

I have one request that I'm splitting into two parts and then I'm going to be putting a stop to writing RPF. Nothing against it but it's not for me anymore.

Now down to the fun stuff:

September 13: The Best Benefits starts posting! Master List and Summary post on the 6th. It's a Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader friends with benefits series.

September 16: Illicit Affairs begins posting! Master list and summary post on the 9th. Doctor Sam Winchester AU based on this drabble.

In Progress:

I have two Dean Winchester series in the works. Make Me Believe will begin once Illicit Affairs finishes.

There are several (and I do mean several) Top Gun: Maverick series starring Bob, Hangman, Rooster, and Fanboy.

I had started a new Jake AU but it ended up being a Javy date fic so we're getting set up with Hangman’s roomie, Coyote, because our bestie is dating Jake. I'm hoping to have this one ready in a week or two. 😉

The Last Job sequel is in progress and I've got a new piece in editing for publication.

If you'd like to be added to additional tag lists or just switch up to everything, send me a dm or an ask. 😘

Thank you guys for sticking with me and reading the things I write and being here when I need a boost. You're the best.

-Cole

Everything: @thelastpyle @deangirl93 @evergreencowboy @katelyn--renee @fictional-affairs @lassie-bird @paintlavillered @buckys-zomdoll @polireader @b3autyfuldisast3r @welcometothefandommultiverse @mlovesstories @supraveng

#writercole #self promo #september 22 #wip wednesday #coming soon

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deanbrainrotwritings · 7 days

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— when broken is easily fixed

SUMMARY : priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes.

PAIRING : boaz priestly x fem!reader (implied Latina)

CHARACTERS : tish (mentioned)

WARNINGS/TAGS : jealousy, breakups, fluff, tiny angst, innuendos, obliviousness x2

WORD COUNT : 2.7k

A/N : SURPRISE YALL, I’m back, heheheh. title from silverstein’s song. this fills the square “I’m having what you’d call a rough day” on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, this was nice to jump back into writing. I secretly like teaching y’all physics.

You remember the day Priestly showed up at the market in a disappointingly normal state.

No piercings, no colourful hair, no beard, no eyeliner. Just plain old California clothes, nearly looking Christian with his neat hair, and composed manners.

The only things that reassured you that Priestly was still Priestly after all, were the tattoos that peeked from outside the collar of a white dress shirt and the tiny holes in his skin where his piercings once belonged.

It was confusing at first, but he looked happy. Brighter.

You thought his parents were in town. Or that he became religious after all. Or that he joined a cult.

You teased him at first. He’d just give you this dreamy look and never said anything to ease your curiosity about his current state. He’d be out the door in a hurry, with a tiny bit of that Priestly swagger that told you he was definitely not brainwashed by a cult.

But the reason for the sudden change in him soon became clear.

One day, he walked into the store to buy groceries and other necessities with Tish. Hand in hand, the two of them. All giggles and shoves and smiles. The honeymoon phase. She’d kiss him on his cheeks, take his chin in her hand and press herself against him in an unnecessary manner to tell him something, and he’d look stupid, like he couldn’t believe she was there giving him affection.

Your stomach dropped at the sight of them.

You’d never felt the way you did before.

Yeah, there was a cringey-ness and aversion you always had for PDA and romance that you’d noticed in yourself for years, but it never bothered you like it did now. From watching Priestly and Tish be a couple.

But it also didn’t take you long to realise why it bothered you so much more. Why it was so much harder to ignore than if it were any other couple doing it. Why you felt rejected became clear.

You had feelings for Priestly.

What a dumb way to find that out.

Excuse the fuck out of yourself if you were too focused on your university courses and your job and your future and your personal life… to realise that you really actually liked him. Romantically.

You weren’t going to lie to yourself and pretend that you didn’t care at all when you were alone. You weren’t going to lie to yourself about the sting you felt. Or push away the feelings of jealousy and push down how upset you were and the other, million emotions you felt as you watched them go about their lives as a couple for months.

You never wanted to quit more badly than you did then, just to avoid having to see them get closer, clingier, more affectionate, serious. But it was the only way you could afford living in your dorm, to have enough to pay your classes, and afford your supplies and books...

You sucked it up and pretended that nothing was wrong. Like you didn’t even care about him. Like you never did.

It never really got easier, the only thing that became easy was pretending.

You blamed yourself for waiting too long. That’s what haunted you. If you’d just been braver. If you’d been more honest with yourself and him. If you’d had the courage to say what you felt. If… if…

It was torture.

The high California-in-the-summertime temperatures made you think that you were in Hell, but time passed and you accepted that your chance with him had passed. You told yourself to move on and be happy. For the most part, as long as you ignored them, it was easy to be happy again, to live your life and do whatever your wildest friend was doing to enjoy her summer.

But that happiness you’d seen in Priestly was gone by the time the fall semester came around. It took six long, horrible months for that happiness in him to fade away.

It didn’t last. Just like the spring and the summer.

Until one day you didn’t see her with him. And the next day he was alone again. And the next week; alone. And the week after that, too.

No Tish.

Just mopey, wet-eyed Priestley.

His stubble grew, his eyeliner returned—slightly smeared from tears.

No more Banana Republic, Tommy Hillfigure, or Calvin Klein. Just those ridiculous shirts that always made you smile.

He entered the store today again after a week.

The shop's bell rang and you looked up out of habit, and watched him with his gorgeous green eyes cast downward to the slightly dusty floor you were trying to sweep. God, you’d guess it was more of a depressing, someone’s-dead type of chime than a merry one—from the state of him.

His hair was a mess and slightly longer, it was not brushed or styled neatly. Like he woke up from a nap after breakfast and decided to go to the store because he remembered something he forgot before his nap.

You felt bad… at first.

His cheeks were pink and his eyes were red-rimmed and glassy from tears. He had darkened bags under his eyes. But as he moped around and you avoided being noticed by him out of awkwardness, you caught a glimpse of his shirt, which amused you: Hang in there, it gets worse, with a little thumbs up, too.

He came completely in black, too.

It was unavoidably funny. But you stifled your snort as you continued to sweep quietly, until eventually, you got lost in thought again. Your head filled with your to-do list before entering your final semester.

But you eventually found yourself in the same aisle as him. You swept the trash up into the dustpan as you watched him try to hold bread, bananas, napkins, and toilet paper in one arm while trying to take out a gallon of milk from the fridge.

You saw what would happen from a mile away and quickly released the broom and left the dustpan where it was to help him. Before you could actually get to him, the napkins toppled out of his hold and he mistakenly released the milk to grab it which caused the gallon to burst open when it fell to the floor like a ripe melon in the sun.

You gasped when the milk splattered on you, but you didn’t actually mind at all. Priestly, on the other hand, sighed heavily again, completely giving up.

He finally looked at you when you reached for the napkins he dropped and you smiled warily at him, hoping it appeared more reassuring than pitiful. You handed him the napkins and he murmured an apology, taking them from you.

“They say when you drop your food, it's because someone craved it,” you tried to make light of the situation but he didn’t even notice. He gently placed everything down on top of the shelf behind him with a deep sigh.

“I’m so sorry,” he frowned at the large white puddle, “I’m having what you’d call a rough day.” You huffed a soft laugh which made him raise a brow at you.

“Day? You’ve been mopey and pathetic for weeks,” you teased playfully, but he remained quiet. You figured you’d offended him or hurt his feelings because he sniffled and looked down at his hands.

Your face softened.

“I’ll pay for that.” He pointed to the spilt milk and broken gallon.

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. “Let me clean this up. I’ll help you when I finish.” You turned around to pick up some napkins you kept behind the counter and he made a sound of protest.

He followed you, you heard him walking behind you quickly. “I made this mess. I should clean it. Besides, it’s almost your lunch break,” he tried to stop you. You laughed softly and shook your head as you laid yourself over the counter to grab the napkins from underneath the counter, your feet dangled embarrassingly above the floor.

“Hey, it’s no trouble,” you dismissed, smiling triumphantly to yourself when you got up with the napkins. “Go be a customer and bring your stuff… take two trips this time. There’s no one else here.” You snatched the napkins away from him when he tried to take them from you.

He smiled a little.

It made you smile more earnestly.

“Okay… Fine…” he gave in hesitantly and followed you as you walked towards the mess he made. He picked up the stuff he left on the shelf and watched you squat down and lay some napkins over the puddle. The paper soaked the milk up and he slowly walked to the counter then returned as you finished up.

He stood there awkwardly at first. Still just watching you clean up and then you got up and smiled at him sweetly. He smiled back at you gently and your heart sped up the way it always did when he looked at you. Your stomach clenched happily, but you frowned and quickly stepped away from him to throw the wet paper towels away along with the gallon that had contained the milk.

“I’m really sorry,” he apologised again when you returned.

“Priestly, it’s fine, accidents happen,” you chuckled to convince him and eyed the new gallon of milk. “You ready?” You wiped your hands on your jeans despite still feeling icky.

“Yeah,” he answered quietly, then looked around at the unusually empty store. “You want me to finish sweeping for you? Or maybe… Do you wanna wash your hands? You look uncomfortable. I can wait,” he rambled.

You laughed at him, this was all too much for you so “early” in the morning. He instantly shut up and became flustered. His free hand flew up to the back of his neck and he laughed awkwardly.

“Well, if it matters so much to you, put the Closed sign on while I throw the stuff in the dustpan away and wash my hands. I’ll meet you at the counter in five.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said automatically.

You rolled your eyes at the name, but walked away wordlessly to finish up. You actually were pretty hungry.

When you returned, Preistly had his hands in his trouser’s pockets, he was chewing on his lip, and his cheeks were red from embarrassment.

“What’s that thing you said earlier about dropping food?” He asked, trying to alleviate the thick tension that hung in the air around the two of you. You smiled as you scanned the items he needed.

“Oh, nothing,” you shrugged, “just a saying.”

He was quiet for a moment and then you looked up at him. He was already looking at you and your face instantly started to get warm again. You looked away as casually as you could to finish scanning the remaining items and neatly placing them inside a plastic bag.

“It was funny.”

“Ha, I guess…” you shrugged awkwardly and told him the price of his groceries.

“Right…” he took out random, balled up dollar bills from his back pocket despite having a wallet with enough space. You smiled curiously and took the money from him.

God, hurry and leave, you prayed internally as you placed his money in the cash register and took out his change. You dropped three quarters and a nickel into his hand when you began hearing the soft sound of rain hitting the windows and the concrete outside, and the delightful aroma of petrichor sneaking through the vents into the store.

“Fuck,” Priestly muttered, his fingertips grazed your palm and your body lit up like the second the temperature of the universe hit one billion Kelvin after the Big Bang, finally allowing neutrons and protons to form atomic nuclei as they hit and stuck to each other. “The worst day ever.”

You snapped out of your daze, disappointed, but not surprised at his obliviousness.

“I could give you a ride,” you offered with a shrug, taking your bag from inside the bottom drawer as he took his bag of groceries.

“I keep wasting your time…” he trailed off, but he did not decline your offer.

“That’s fine. Where do you live?” You made your way around the counter and walked past him to stand at the door and watch the rain slowly come heavier.

“You’re a stranger,” he joked, and you turned to roll your eyes at him. “What? You could secretly be a Mankiller.” You opened the door with a sarcastic laugh and squirmed as rain hit your face.

“Please, look at me,” you scoffed playfully, locking the door to the store once Priestly stepped outside with you.

“I am,” he said gently.

You looked up at him with your brows knitted in confusion. “Whatever. My car’s over here,” you brushed him off and quickly led him to your car.

You both sighed once you were safely inside the freshly cleaned car. He laughed to himself as he looked around inquisitively, but you didn't question him. You turned your car on instead to pull out of the driveway and asked him again where he lived as a Britney Spears song played on the radio. This time he finally answered your question seriously.

The conversation was light and you kept asking him about the sandwich shop he worked at and about his friends to avoid talking about yourself or his break up. It was basically small talk, bleh. The conversation was superficial because you didn’t want to get close to him, not now, not when he was freshly broken up and still clearly hurting.

He ran his hand through his hair once you parked outside his house, somehow he managed to make it look tame. He looked at the time and you waited patiently for him to get out so you could leg it and cry to your friend over the phone about how you were so not over him.

“Stay,” he proposed suddenly when he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I can make you a sandwich, I’m really good at that.” You shook your head at first and racked your brain for some excuse to get away. “Whatever you want, I’ll make it for you, I’ve even got some soda in the fridge. Please, I feel really bad.” You chuckled softly at him and the pleading eyes he gave you. They looked much wider and greener.

“Fine,” you gave in, “I’m really hungry, so… I guess I could stay for a bit.” He lit up slightly and started to get out of the car before you managed to turn it off. But you caught up with him as he kicked the welcome mat to the side to retrieve his house’s key.

“You want a sub?” He asked, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from making a joke out of that and nodded as you entered his messy house. Oh well, he’s been going through a breakup.

“Oh, God, I forgot it’s a mess,” he apologised when he looked at the star of everything around him. “Close your eyes, pretend you don’t see it,” he pleaded jokingly.

“As long as I don’t step in something squishy, we’re all good,” you reassured him with a small laugh. You followed him to the kitchen and figured he must be going through the not-eating breakup rather than the eating-my-feelings breakup.

“How big do you want it?” He asked you, setting the bag down on the counter and going to wash his hands.

“How much do you think I can take?” You asked before you could actually filter it out of your mind. He quickly looked at you, amused and intrigued while he dried his hands with a clean towel from inside his cabinet. “Kidding, how big is it?” He laughed loudly at your question which made you get more flustered, but he still gave you a measurement with his hands. “Half of that,” you tried to ignore his face and sat down before your knees gave out from embarrassment.

“If you can only take half of that, I don’t think you could handle me.”

Your mouth fell open. You were sure you stopped breathing for a few moments when your heart stuttered and your stomach lurched at the thought.

This time, you blinked at him in surprise, but your eyes stayed wide, and you felt yourself turn hotter before you both bursted out laughing.

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