#boaz priestly fluff

[deangirlsstuff67]

Out Of His League

Boaz Priestly x Reader

Summary: You make him a deal, he shows you his secret and you show him yours.

Warnings: clit piercing, language, fluffy Boaz, oral (female receiving), making out, feeling up, nipple piercings

Authors Note: I love Jensen and his family. This is purely fiction and for entertainment purposes only.

—————————————————————————

“Did it hurt?” Tish asked as you were rolling silverware in napkins together. Priestly was behind you both talking with Piper while half ass ease dropping on your conversation.

“Well duh Trish, you’re getting a needle stabbed in a sensitive area, it didn’t feel great.” You both giggle, “but it was so worth it.”

This got Priestley’s attention, “what are you two girls talking about?”

Trish shot him a glare over her shoulder, “nosy much?”

“Wow… okay Trish.” He turned back to his conversation with Piper.

You felt bad. You know he’s always kind of had. Thing for Trish and she won’t give him a second glance with the crazy hair and all the piercings he has. Trish likes pretty boys. She also enjoys using them and proving they are as dumb as they are pretty.

Some days you wonder if your friend is ever going to settle down and find herself a nice guy.

Priestly is sweet, kind, funny, and original. Is he a little out there? Sure, but at least he’s himself. You find that attractive in his own sort of way. If you’re being honest, he’s probably the perfect boyfriend.

—————————————————————————

Tonight you and Priestly are locking up. He’s wiping down tables and you count the till and close down the register.

Curiosity is getting the better of him though. He has to know if he was right about what you and Tosh were talking about earlier.

“So what hurt to get done y/n?”

Looking up from your count you are shocked he even still remembers the earlier conversation.

Smirking at him you figure why not flirt a little, “wouldn’t you like to know big guy.”

“Yes… yes I would. I think I know but I want to hear you say it.”

“Whys that?”

He struts over to the counter, leaning against it. Cleaning tables forgotten at the moment, “because I don’t peg you as the type of girl who would do something so daring.”

Laughing you go back to your counting, “oh I’m full of surprises Priestly.”

“There’s no way.”

“No way what?” You look at him through your lashes adding the charm a little thick.

He looks like he half believes you and half thinks you’re screwing with him. A girl like you getting that pierced, there’s no way that would happen.

“Tell you what Priestly, you tell me your first name and I’ll tell you what I got that hurt, deal?”

Groaning he turns back to his previous task, “nope, no way in hell.”

For some reason he refuses to tell us his first name. You have no idea why but you do know that it would curb his curiosity for a minute or two.

—————————————————————————

Three weeks go by and Priestly has been staring at you every chance he can, like he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you and what you could have done. He hasn’t asked you again but he knows the price he has to pay to get the answers he wants.

You’re closing with him again that night and finally he can’t take not knowing anymore. You’re in the back room tidying up when he walks up behind you scaring the shit out of you, “Boaz. My first name is Boaz.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that!” You smack his arm as you walk past to put stuff in the garbage.

You take a deep breath before turning around. A deals a deal, “I got my clit pierced.”

His mouth drops open and you can’t help but giggle. Besides your ears you don’t have any visible piercings and you don’t talk about the ones you do have. Beside past boyfriends, no one knows about them.

“If it helps I also have had my nipples pierced for a few years now.” You shrug as you continue moving around the room. Boaz is rooted in place, trying to process what you’ve just told him.

His brain is misfiring though and all the blood has started pumping to his cock as he thinks about the image you placed in his mind.

You’re walking past him again, enjoying the look on his face when he reaches out and grabs your arm pulling you towards him.

“What are you doi-,” he cuts you off with a heated kiss. You can’t help but moan as his tongue licks into your mouth fighting for dominance with yours. His hands grab your waist and pull you flush to his hard body.

When you make contact with his hard dick he groans and leans his forehead against yours, “that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard y/n.”

You don’t respond, head dizzy from the kiss you just shared. Instead you take his lips again and kiss him hard.

He spins you around and lifts you up onto the table behind you without breaking your kiss.

Hands explore your body as you make out in the break room. When he softly rubs his thumb o er your nipples you throw your head back with a moan.

The piercings make them extra sensitive.

Smiling he does it again just to watch your pleasure from such a simple touch, “has anyone played with your clit since you got it pierced.”

“No.”

Rubbing your nipples again, “think it’s as sensitive as these ones?”

Looking into those list blown eyes you smirk as you respond, “only one way to find out Boaz.”

—————————————————————————

“Mmm… fuck Boaz…” he wasn’t wrong that piercing was the best investment I made. Either that or Boaz is a sex god no one ever knew about. The way his tongue is twisting and rubbing your piercing just right has you dripping for him.

This is orgasm number three he is pulling from your trembling, wrecked body and he doesn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

Once he’s worked you through the last of it, he comes up for air. Kissing you so you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue.

There is something that turns you on about tasting yourself on the lips of a man. Maybe it's the fact that he enjoyed every minute of getting you off numberous times, or maybe it's just the fact that you have claimed him in a way and made him yours, at least for a moment.

Boaz Priestly was a sweet, funny, slightly out there kind of guy. He always had a knack for macking you feel better on those shitty days. You never thought you'd hook up with him though.

"I never heard my first name sound so good than when you're moaning it for me to hear."

You straighten up and fix your clothes. Giving him another kiss, you wink as you speak, "you know my secret and I know yours now. Promise I won't tell a soul."

You go to walk away but he stops you, "where do you think you're going?"

"Home."

"Awe that's cute sweetheart, I am far from finished with my girl."

You give him a puzzling look, "you're girl? Not that I'm not flattered but I kinda always thought you wanted Tish."

"Don't get me wrong, Tish is cute but you're the real prize y/n. You've never judged me. Always there for me when I need a friend. Hell you're beautful as fuck and you make me laugh. Knowing now that you have a kinky side and piercings of your own means that maybe I stand a slight chance with a girl like you." He's staring at the ground as he talks, gone is the cocky guy who was just making you scream his name repeatedly in the back room of your workplace, it's now replaced with a guy who seems to nervous for the man you have grown to love.

"Boaz, did you think you were out of my league or something?"

All he does is nod his head.

"You silly boy. I don't care about looks. If I'm being honest I love your style. You are 100% confident in who you are and express yourself through your style. You are funny, charming, and yes a little wild, but you were never out of my league."

Green eyes meet you y/e/c ones as he processes what you just confessed to him. You can't help but softly smile at the man in front of you.

God he's adorable.

Leaning in you kiss his lips gentle and take his hand, "come on, my man has more fun in store exploring what this piercing can do to me." You send him a wink as you lead him to the back door and into the night.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day you and Priestly walk into work hand in hand. You're both holding your breath as your coworkers look at you both. Within minutes hoots and hollers can be heard as they all congratulate you.

"About damn time you two." Tish says with a smile on her face as she wraps you up into a hug.

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[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

BOAZ PRIESTLY MASTERLIST

most of these will have strong themes so make sure you read the warnings on each piece.

ONESHOTS COMING SOON

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO JAYS-BONNIE-ON-THE-SIDE

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[zepskies]

Aww that's amazing!! I hope you're feeling better today, lovely, I've certainly been there. 😅 But I'm so touched that this is your go-to period comfort fic. ❣️

This sounds like absolute heaven. I would love to have Priestly here doing this for me 😍

Ugh ikr? When I wrote that scene that was pure fantasy for me. 🤣🤣

Thank you so much for revisiting! 😘❤️ (Sending you several pints of virtual Half Baked ice cream and warm hugs.)

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

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[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  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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jacklesversebingo23 masterlist

boaz priestly masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

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

[impala-dreamer]

Pondering Fate While Ignoring The Obvious

A Ten Inch Hero Story

~Priestly has got it so bad for Tish that he can barely see past the end of her... well, her back end, anyway. He's love sick and forever rejected, constantly stuck inside his own head. When a new girl in town starts messing with him, he quickly loses his cool...~

Boaz Priestly x F!Reader

2,511 Words

Warnings: Nuttin' but fluff and banter. ;)

A/N: This is another square for my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt is "Backhanded Compliment/Convenience Store/Sugar Addict"

Now listen- I've never written for this movie before, but I had so much fun doing it. If you've seen the movie, I think you'll love this. If you haven't seen it, you may not totally get it, but you'll still love it because it's cute and fluffy and I said so. Give it a chance ;)

Another day, another spicy Italian with no oil and no vinegar. How you could eat a hero dry was a question he could never quite grasp the answer to, but in the end, did another weird order really matter? He’d put a condom on the bun if they asked for it. Maybe not a used one, but then again, Tish was looking extra spicy herself today.

Tish. Goddamnit. There she goes flirting with every male in existence except him. There she is leaning over the counter in that not-so-sneaky way that pushes her tits up and out, giving everyone and their mother a look into the valley of the Promised Land. 

For fuck’s sake, if she’d only do that for him. 

Then again, nothin’ he hadn’t seen before. 

Fingers snapped in front of his face and Priestly blinked himself back into reality. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, still half dazed and half hard after staring so intently at his coworker. 

Piper sighed. “Yeah. You gotta make a run down the street.” 

He sighed harder. “You know, you ladies are capable of patronizing the convenience store now and then. It’s not really hard. You just pick out what you need and exchange it for cash.” 

The tiny blonde pouted and batted her lashes. “Please? My feet hurt from standing all day.” 

He scoffed. “And mine don't?” 

“I’m not used to it. I’m delicate.” 

Priestly scratched at the bright green spikes that sat atop his head for the day, masquerading as a hairstyle. He frowned but relented. “Fine. Gimme the list.” 

He saw her from the street. He wasn’t purposely peeping through the window like a stalker, but he felt like it all the same. It wasn’t his fault, not really. Things mostly stayed the same around town, so when something was different, when someone new showed up, it tended to stick out a bit. 

The new girl at the register was cute, not particularly daring in her style or makeup palette, but she was attractive. Probably the thing Priestly noticed first was the lollipop stick hanging from her painted lips. 

His entrance was announced by the jangling of bells and she looked up as he came in. She smiled around the pop and twirled the white paper stick between her fingers. 

“Welcome.” 

He looked back at her over his shoulder and nodded. “Hey.” 

Slowly, she pulled the treat from her mouth and licked the very tip. Her tongue was as red as the pop and Priestley was sure that his cheeks were turning the same shade. He cleared his throat quickly and turned back, going about his business. 

The store was otherwise empty except for Mr. Jacobson, the old man who never seemed to go anywhere but was always wherever you went. He was currently lingering at the end of the aisle, amazed at the sheer amount of chip flavors the new millennium had to offer. 

“Back in my day we had regular and salt & vinegar, and we were grateful!”

Priestly laughed under his breath and looked over the rack at the register. She was laughing softly as well, and when their eyes met, she didn’t shy away. 

He did; quickly tearing his gaze from the cherry pop and focusing on the aluminum foil instead. There was no use flirting with her anyway- she’d never go for him. She looked too normal, too pretty to fall for his shenanigans. Best not to even think about it. 

Arms fully stocked, he headed her way, keeping his eyes on the black and gray tiled floor and praying she wouldn’t make his heart race any faster. 

She sucked hard on the Blow Pop and then took a bite, making him jump. Sugar crackled between her teeth and she winked.

“I hope you overcharge them,” she said dryly, staring him down. 

Confusion took the place of shyness and Priestly’s face scrunched up. “What?” he snapped, jerking away from the counter. 

The girl rolled her eyes and went about ringing up his order without another word. 

Cash exchanged, Priestly thanked her and walked out, still wondering what the hell she was talking about. 

Monday. 

Priestly stared out the front window, wondering if the day was going to go his way or not. He knew he shouldn’t bother pondering the Fates, because they always seemed against him, but he liked to think he had some hope tucked away somewhere beneath the Manic Panic hair dye and all the metal sticking out of his head. If there was, he couldn’t find any today. 

Tish was late, as usual, probably rolling out of some strange guy’s arms and fishing for her bra underneath the bed. 

Someday… someday, that’d be his bed she was searching under. Someday, those would be his arms she rolled out of. He just had to keep hoping.

Or not. He really didn’t care. 

The sun was too bright, the grill was too hot. He hated everything. 

Except the sound of bubblegum popping behind him. He didn’t seem to hate that. 

With spatula in hand, he turned and startled just enough to make the bubblegum appear between coyly smiling pink lips. 

“Hey.” 

Priestley squinted. “You’re that chick from the store.” 

Annoyance crept onto her face. “And you’re that dude with too much eyeliner.” 

He laughed before realizing she was insulting him and ended up jolting up on his toes awkwardly, half a smile curled on his lip. 

He cleared his throat. “Priestly.”

She squinted. “Like Elvis?” 

He shrugged. “And you are?” 

“Hungry.” 

Slapping a five on the counter, she picked up her hero and spun away, heading toward the door. She turned to push it open with her backside and popped her gum again. 

Her eyes were glued to him and Priestly felt his stomach flip. He met her gaze and she smiled. 

“I always do.” 

He wanted to say something, to ask her what the hell she was talking about, but she was gone before the words reached his tongue. 

“Always do what?” 

Jen turned her head his way, but her eyes were still locked on the computer screen. “What’s up?” 

He sighed. “Nothing. Just a weird girl from…nothing.”

It was nothing. She was just the weird girl from down the street. And anyway, he was supposed to be hating everything today, not shifting his ponderance to the mystery of the gum chewing, pop crunching girl from the convenience store. 

“Nothing.”  

Blue hair; don’t care. 

Priestly cracked an egg on the grill and watched the edges sizzle. He wasn’t great at a lot of things, but cooking eggs was something he did exceptionally well. The butter bubbled around the perimeter, curling the whites just slightly, and he pushed the tip of his spatula against it. 

Not ready yet. 

The girls were, yet again, chatting about men, and he kept one ear on the sizzle and the other in their conversation. 

“I just don’t understand how hard it is to find. It’s right there.” Tish laughed and pushed a delicate hand back through her hair. “It’s a clit, not the Holy Grail.” 

Priestly raised a brow. “Some would call it that though,” he interjected. 

She rolled her eyes. “You would.”

Offended, he sucked in a quick breath. “Ya know something-” 

She turned, one hand on her hip, waiting. “Yeah?”  

His lips pursed and dejected, he turned back to the grill. “Forget it.” 

“Thought so,” she laughed. 

God, she was such a bitch sometimes. OK, most times, but still.

Tish went back to leaning on the counter and he took the opportunity to peek at her ass. 

Behind him, a throat was cleared. 

Priestly sighed, knowing what was waiting for him when he turned. Or, rather, who. 

“You again.” He batted his lashes. 

She smacked her lips. “Me again.” From her pocket, she withdrew a pink Starburst and fiddled with the wrapper. 

He eyed the candy and followed it to her mouth. Her lips were darker today and it reminded him of the cherry pop. “You eat too much sugar, you know that?”

She smiled gently. “And you dye your hair too much. That isn’t good for you. All those chemicals are gonna fry your brain.” 

“Joke’s on you, it’s already fried- shit!” Fried egg. Burnt to a crisp. “Damnit.” 

Sugar Girl swallowed a laugh and the Starburst. 

He turned around, annoyed at himself and her laughter. “Are you- do you want something?” 

“Yup.” She nodded and took her order from Piper, who was holding a small, paper-wrapped hero. “Thanks.” 

Green eyes narrowed on her smile. She was weird. Way too weird. And kinda rude. 

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” he asked, calling out as she pushed open the door. 

“Sure,” she replied, “Soon as I get my free sample.” 

“Huh?” 

Confusion always seemed to linger when she left, that and the smell of strawberries. Or cherries, or whatever she’d been sucking on. 

Sucking on…

His eyes flickered over to Tish and he wondered if she was as good at sucking things as she claimed.

It was raining and he was cranky. 

He’d missed his alarm, the car wouldn’t start, and a passing bus nearly drenched him head to toe. 

It wasn’t supposed to rain at the beach. It was practically against the law. Nature’s law, anyway. 

And to top it all off, Tish was bragging about the amazing night she’d had with a handsome stranger visiting from New York. 

“He’s just in town for a few days, so it’s nothing serious,” she explained to a wide-eyed Piper who was drinking down every word. “But man, I wouldn’t be mad if it was. He’s… tall and handsome and-” 

Priestly cleared his throat. “Ya know I’m pretty tall.” 

She clicked her tongue. “And?” 

His heart ached at her callousness. “And… just thought I’d remind you.”

Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing to him, but he thought his advances were fairly obvious. Maybe she was just a bitch.

Jen derailed his thought train with a shopping list she’d printed out. 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Please?”

The shop on the corner was the last place he wanted to go. Nameless Sugar Girl was the last person he wanted to see. “Why do I always have to go?” He pouted and gestured to the window. “It’s pouring rain out there.” 

Jen looked up with puppy-dog eyes. “Which is why I’m asking you to please go.” 

A heavy sigh was his only reply. Priestly grabbed the paper from her hand, crumpling it beyond repair, and set out into the downpour. 

He was dripping by the time he made it down the street. He sneered at the water on his face, rolled his eyes at the welcome mat, swatted viciously at the bells as they rang above his head. 

“Rough morning?” she asked, watching his huffy entrance. 

He scowled. “You could say that.” 

A peppermint rolled on her tongue and the red and white stripes caught his eye. “Well, lemme know if you need any assistance.” 

Priestly ran a hand through his teal-tinted hair and shook out a puddle’s worth of rain. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

It took him a while to collect the goods, having trouble finding the right paper towels that would fit into the holder in the bathrooms. He’d never had any issues in the store before; seemed like someone had rearranged. 

Someone. 

He looked across the rows of sundries and wondered what her deal was. Hell, he still didn’t even know her name. Not that he wanted to, of course. 

Of course. 

Finally, and with much annoyance, he arrived at the register. 

She laughed softly as he unloaded his arms. 

He shook his head. “What?” 

“I… I shouldn’t even touch this one.” 

He had no clue what she was talking about, he never did, and he was at the end of his rope. 

His patience snapped. “What?”

She sat back, clearly hurt by his tone. “Your shirt.” 

She pointed at his chest and he looked down, reading the big black letters upside down. 

‘Save a tree, eat a beaver’

His shoulders fell. “Oh. Yeah. Whatever.” 

“Yeah,” she echoed, the sting heavy in her voice. “Whatever.” 

He couldn’t take it anymore. Dropping a can of coffee onto the counter, he slapped his palms down on either side of it and leaned in. 

“Ya know, everytime I see you, you’ve got something snarky to say.”

Her eyes went wide. “Snarky?” She frowned. “I thought I was flirting.” 

The fight drained out of him along with the blood in his cheeks. Confused once more. “Uh… what?” 

Pushing herself up off the stool, she mirrored his pose, hands falling dangerously close to his. “Flirting,” she said again. “It’s an ancient ritual in which a sexually interested party attempts to lure their prey into bed with witty and charming wordplay.”

He balked. “I know what flirting is!” 

She glared. “Then why haven’t you picked up on the fact that I’ve been trying to pick you up for weeks now?”

“I uh…” His elbows buckled and he stood up fully. “You have?” No way. She wasn’t…

Memories of the past month flooded his mind. Each time he’d seen her she was smiling at him, not being snarky. She was teasing him, answering the ridiculous sayings on his shirt. 

‘I sell crack for the CIA.’ … “I hope you overcharge them”

‘Surf naked.’ … “I always do.” 

‘Orgasm Donor - Ask for your free sample’ … “As soon as I get my free sample.”

It had been smacking him in the damned face and he hadn’t seen it. She had been playing with him the whole time, not trying to annoy him. She wanted him to notice her, but he was too busy dreaming of Tish, wondering when she’d notice him. 

He sucked in a stunned breath. “You have. Wow.”

A tiny smile returned to her cherry lips. “Come on, I know you’re not as dumb as your fashion sense implies.”

Priestly felt a dip in his gut, something fluttering around inside. He grinned. “Oh, I’m way dumber.” 

Reaching across the counter, she grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him close. “Good.”

Her lips were soft, the kiss as sweet as the candy she was always eating. He breathed her in as her tongue swept over his.  He was stunned, confused but in a good way. Maybe he needed to push Tish aside and pay more attention to the world around him. Maybe this was a good thing. A really good thing. His eyebrows raised in surprise, his blood pressure raised even higher.

She pulled away slowly, her lips lingering on his. 

“You get it now?” 

She waited, blinking at him with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He should have looked sooner, closer; should have given her a chance.  

“Yeah,” he whispered in a laugh. “I think I do.” 

Another kiss, a press of her hand at the nape of his neck. 

“You ever gonna tell me your name?” 

She smiled. “Y/N.”

He reached for her cheek; fingers landing lightly on her soft skin. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

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[deansgirlbaby67]

So apparently I love writing head cannons… kinda lol. I love what I call mini series. Which is where I take a topic and then I write one shots for all the characters I write for. Currently it’s been smutty but wouldn’t say no to some lovey, fluffy ideas as well.

Do you have any suggestions for head cannon one shots ? I’m always looking for interesting ideas and of course more reasons to watch my favorite shows and figure out what to write ;)

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Save A Tree, Eat A Beaver - Priestly x Rowena

“Save a Tree, Eat a Beaver” - Priestly x Rowena

Part 1 of Pets4Punks

Rating Teen (Part 1)

Priestly x Rowena

Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff and Flirting, Owls Go Bad, Zoo Shenanigans, Homage to Betty White, Spell Casting, A Comedy of Errors

Word Count: 3800

Priestly’s nursing a broken heart. Rowena’s exacting some magical revenge. What will unfold when these two meet at a Beastly Ball?

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Flirtation-Whiskey-A Mistake At A Zoo" square.

Image created in Canva (credit for photos used: “Ten Inch Hero”; movietvtechgeeks.com)

“Would that be an invitation, there, then?”

Priestly dabbed his brow with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. It was hot in the food tent. Even if Beach City Grill was serving up pre-made hero sandwiches, bookending vendors grilled and fried their fare with furious abandon. Other heat factors included portable spotlights and generators. The warm night breeze created a tiny suffocating vortex under the tent for Priestly to inhabit.

Priestly panted. Hot didn’t seem like an accurate description. 

No. When you added in the thousand or so bodies at The LA Zoo’s 37th Beastly Ball, the temperature downright sizzled. 

Priestly attempted to blink away his discomfort. A cacophony dialed his irritation up to ten. People chattered. A DJ spun another record through an obnoxious sound system with speakers the size of refrigerators. Even if the funds being raised tonight benefitted the zoo, he couldn’t imagine a bear or lion being okay with any of this. If there weren’t barriers in the way, he was pretty sure this entire crowd would be mauled to death by some very irate mammals. He only had so much patience for the human race of which he was unfortunately a part.

At least he’d get to see Betty White in person tonight. She was the Beastly Ball Chairman. That woman was a national treasure. And probably the only one that would be spared if the animals rose up.

He sliced up another of the more popular menu items being gobbled up by donors. The Mane Attraction hero had been a hit with the carnivores as suspected. Despite the surging heat, he’d kept his nose down and worked in the background the entire evening. Piper and Jen were the all-smiles servers, front and center, greeting the deep-pockets milling about the food tent.

“‘Scuse me, lad?”

It was the addition of ‘lad’ to the second question from a very Scottish sounding woman that had him look up.

Turned out, he didn’t need to look up very high. An elegant, petite wisp of a porcelain lady stared up at him. One of her copper-tinted brows arched. Lush, fiery red ringlets cascaded from the top of her head to her pointy elbows. A dusty peach wrap made of silk hung and clung to a body made for ballet. The chunky black vinyl belt with a sequin studded buckle cinched the dress in at the waist.

She was magically delicious.

Priestly smiled and wiped the roast beef gravy from his hands. He then pointed to Jen manning the front table. “One of our lovely servers will be able to plate up anything you’d like to try, Miss.”

“Including you?” Her coral stained lips curled up into a grin.

Priestly froze. He had to have heard her wrong in the middle of all the noise. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

One of the woman’s expertly manicured fingers pointed at his chest. “Are you being canny with that shirt? Or, would that be an actual invitation, there, then?”

Priestly gulped. “Um…”

The woman offered a playful frown. “Well, when you get your voice back, you let me know the answer, aye?”

*

Rowena didn’t have time to wait for the pretty punk boy to remember how to form sentences. So, she’d sampled the vegetarian sandwich the mousy haired twenty-something called The Panda Munch and then it was off toward the animal habitats.

She had work to do and little patience.

The rowdy bunch of guests, chatting and being all kinds of obnoxious for over ten minutes, had taken root by a particular set of sanctuaries that held her interest. 

She stood by the guard rail on the opposite side of the walkway, sipping from a champagne flute. Her fingernails tapped the top of the fence. She gazed over at a nearby pond. The current inner debate in her head was whether she should ignite the shoes aflame of the loudest person in the group or temporarily immobilize his tongue.

The ticket to attend this pathetic attempt at a soiree had been overpriced. Good cause her arse. A good cause was exacting any bit of covert revenge she could toward the Grand Coven. An even better cause was finding a way to unshackle her powers.

And what she currently required –to fund the greatest cause, which was herself– could be pilfered more easily under the veil of night. Amid distracted security, overworked zoo staff, and intoxicated guests, what could go wrong?

Rowena sighed and eavesdropped on the eejit in the lavender polo shirt drone on about the Lakers. She watched him pretend to dribble out of the corner of her eye.

A majority of the upper echelon of Angelenos could be trite and vapid. All surface, no substance. But that also made them easy to grift. If she stayed under the radar for another year or two, her little shop might be a very lucrative business.    

An announcement interrupted the awful excuse for music emanating from the stage some ways off where most of the guests congregated. Betty White would be giving a speech in about ten minutes.

That got the group moving.

“Finally,” Rowena murmured. She abandoned the glass atop the guard rail and sashayed toward her target. Her gaze landed on a security camera high atop a lamp post. She whispered, “Confractus.” A satisfied smile emerged at the subsequent sizzle and crack from the surveillance equipment.  

*

“Go, take a break.” Jen shooed Priestly with her hands. “Betty’ll be on soon. I don’t want to hear you complain later about missing that.”

“Are you sure?” Priestly untied the black waist apron.

Jen nodded. “Anything that makes you smile should not be denied.”

Priestly knew Jen really wanted to say, “We’re sick and tired of seeing you all mopey since Tish moved to New York.”

“Maybe you can get her to autograph your shirt,” Piper added with a giggle.

“Betty appreciates a dirty joke.” Priestly nodded with certainty.

Jen cleared her throat. “You’re definitely making a statement with it.”

“Oh! Don’t forget that dude at the Whiskey distillery stand said to stop by and get us some samples in exchange for these.” Piper shoved three wrapped sandwiches in Priestly’s hands.

“Right, I’ll go do that before Betty. Back faster than The Flash.”

*

Rowena had gotten turned around more than twice on the Employees Only path. Nestled amid the Night Wing area terrain, the dirt walk lacked signage for the untrained. A paltry number of floodlights scattered warm amber streaks here and there to guide the way.

Why didn’t the coordinators of this benefit include a flashlight in their extra large swag bag? “Buncha beetroots,” Rowena mumbled, hefting the cumbersome tote over her shoulder. At least she could have both hands free when needed later, what with her tiny clutch now in the bag’s bottom.

To add to the indecency of the two other cameras she had to decommission along the path, a staff member had chanced upon her stumbling through foliage in black vinyl thigh high boots. Steel nerves she’d forged over a few centuries rattled only for a second. The young male, whose time on this planet tallied up to nothing more than a couple decades, had been quite amicable. He’d politely offered to escort her to the main path. 

Rowena thanked him and followed his lead for a few yards while he made small talk. She fished out her clutch, found a hex bag, slipped it into his jacket pocket, and then glamoured him. He rotated slow and turned to face her. 

With syrupy sweetness, Rowena asked to be directed to the owl habitat entrance and unlock it. He stammered, with dilated pupils and enamored smile, that it was only his third day on the job and he didn’t know which gate that was. 

“Well, there shan’t be any harm in you opening up a gate or two for lil ole me, would there?” She batted her long lashes even though there was no need. Rowena did enjoy leaning into theatrics.

The junior zookeeper bobbed his head, turned, and floated back the way he came. “Follow me.”

*

The abrupt temperature change required Priestly to slip on his tartan plaid vest over his t-shirt. Away from the benefit crowd, the night air cooled slick spots of sweaty skin.

Listening to Betty White wax poetic about her love of animals had made all the hard work worthwhile. She’d even given him a cheeky little wink from the stage. Seriously, Priestly thought he might have a major crush on the woman. She was even funnier and more radiant in person than he’d expected. She could be his Golden Girl any damn day of the week.

After he, Jen, and Piper toasted with Whiskey samples to a job well done, he’d been released from cleanup duty. Excitement filled the segment of his brain in which the still six-year-old part of him resided. Okay, so it wasn’t like he was sneaking through the zoo. Staff members stationed at various checkpoints and exhibits nodded in greeting as he passed. But the grounds, typically experienced in the light and warmth of sunshine, now crackled with a forbidden energy.

It was nice to feel some excitement. His emotional state of late had been devastated. He hadn’t been able to shake himself out of the volley between self-pity and feeling responsible for Tish’s move. Maybe if he’d been more (more what, though), she would have stayed and they could have worked things out.

The three shots of whiskey had not helped the spiral of self-doubt. He hadn’t been enough. Pure and simple. Had it been juvenile to think his “normal” makeover would have been the key to winning over the girl of his dreams? Of course. Did that make it hurt any less that it hadn’t worked out? Of course not.

He recalled the flirty, testy banter with Tish over the years. She could slap him onto a sizzling griddle or submerge him in a bucket of ice with that sharp tongue and flippant hair toss. That drew him to her even more. He admitted to himself early on that he really liked how she took charge of a situation and gave zero fucks. That was what she presented to everyone on the surface, anyway. She’d been hurt. Sensitive. Cautious to risk any more of her heart. The armor had thickened. Just like him.

In the end, they’d been pretty compatible. But, in hindsight, most of that had been due to his ability to bend and compromise. She didn’t tell him much about what she wanted. He had to guess. Trial and error. And that attitude had transferred to what happened in the bedroom.

Priestly wasn’t a fucking mind reader. He didn’t have a clue. He figured she liked confidence and showmanship between the sheets. The kind that could run a porn marathon without breaking a sweat.

But that wasn’t him. And he could only keep that up (heh, child) for so long.

The same went for the preppie exterior he tried on to win her over. A few weeks after their first kiss, he snuck back on one of his piercings. Then another. And another. And another. Then the hair got dyed (fuschia). Then spiked up with gel. Next, he sported some eyeliner. He pulled out a signature statement t-shirt here and there. Dusting off the kilt might have been the last straw for Tish.

But he wanted to like the reflection in the mirror. All that skin-shedding pleased Tish. Not him.

So, the relationship met its inevitable conclusion and broke his heart. They’d agreed to revert to friendship status. He hadn’t expected Tish to up and leave a couple of months after that, though.

Jen had said it best one day. Tish probably couldn’t piece herself back together again here, around him. Fresh start and all. Finding your fucking self and all that bullshit.

That was all fine and good for everybody else. How was he supposed to figure that out for himself? Would he ever find someone that was willing to learn that along with him?

*

The zoo minion had been quite helpful for Rowena. Three gates unlocked in total. He’d made suggestions on the best direction to begin the owl search after her explanation on where they liked to hide. She’d thanked him kindly, pilfered his tiny flashlight, and then wafted a Forget Me spell over the man. “You won’t remember me or any of this. In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the night off? You deserve it for being soooo helpful.”

He toddled off repeating, “Sooo helpful.”

Times like this, an assistant in the dark arts would be a boon. This kind of menial labor, well, it was beneath her to be honest. Having to scour grasslands for a hole in the ground? She might as well be a pig, snout covered in dirt, snuffling for truffles.

Though truffles were delicious, she was in search of a Burrowing Owl. She’d done her research of course. No self-respecting witch starts something without the proper information. Sourcing all the ingredients for this divination spell –one of her own crafting– was a daunting task. But, what was the saying these Americans liked to bandy about? Go big or go home?

And one didn’t diddle with the Grand Coven without a well thought out plan. One required impregnable magic that a dozen of the most powerful witches on the planet would attempt to untangle.

Rowena held more power in her pinky finger than any of them before the Coven had punished her egotism and shackled her abilities. She needed to get that power back and back at them in the process. But in order to find what would cut right to the core, divide and conquer, would require eavesdropping. The divination spell would uncover the cloaked locations for those she needed to sentence for their condemnation.

Rowena’s eyes had adjusted to the dark. Silhouettes danced around the beam of white cast by the flashlight. Flying insects sparkled in the halo of light like falling snow. Her toe boots dug into the dirt here and there.

What would she do if this didn’t work as she hoped? She’d paid a high price for what she’d been told were the feathers of a Burrowing Owl on the black market. When the spell fell flat the only thing that could have been incorrect were the bloody feathers. But who would she complain to or demand a refund? Boris, or whatever his name was, wasn’t registered with the Better Business Bureau. She already had enough enemies.

So, it appeared serendipitous when an invitation for the Beastly Ball landed in her mailbox. She’d made a call to the LA Zoo’s information center and chatted with a lovely woman. The tale of having a daughter obsessed with owls spilled with ease and believability. This made-up child had been going on and on about an owl that squatted in another animal’s home in the dirt. They were in luck. It just so happened the zoo had a burrowing owl in their exhibit. The woman on the other end did warn Rowena her daughter might be disappointed, though. The chances of seeing one during the day were quite rare. 

Oh well, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d disappointed an offspring. 

More importantly, the universe sent her a clear message.

Take matters into your own hands.

Several minutes passed. A strong breeze rustled swaths of grass. Lots of ginger steps and toe boot shovels later, she came across a promising hole. Her heart raced. She bent down to inspect with a ruffle of fingers along the grass. A sharp quill pricked her thumb. Her hand cascaded over the soft frills of a feather. Then another. And another.

Hopefully, the feathers belonged to an owl that had fit itself into the burrow of another animal (or a facsimile of one made by a staff person). It had to be a Burrower!

Three feathers snatched off the ground were stuffed into her swag bag. Rowena surmised they would have fit into her little clutch as well. However, the bag proved an auspicious benefit souvenir.

She rose and dusted off her hands. Eyes closed, she inhaled deep, then exhaled. When she opened her eyes, she oriented her direction as best she could. She could reverse-track the way she came. A sigh released from her throat, satisfied. One step closer. She began the journey.

She passed once again through the forested area of the exhibit, which, in her opinion, better-suited owls. The sharp smell of pine filled her nose.

Her steps halted at the alien chuckling right above her head. Rowena stared up and squinted. She debated for a moment before shining the flashlight upon the sound source.

A set of bright yellow eyes peered back at her. It chuckled again. The tiniest owl Rowena had ever seen wasn’t spooked by the light. It couldn’t have been any bigger in stature than her hand.

“Aren’t you a curious little thing?”

It tilted its head as if answering in the affirmative. Rowena could make out expertly lined white eyebrows created by its feathers.

Rowena had always wanted an owl.

Was this another message from the universe?

Rowena pursed her lips.

There was only one way to find out.

*

Priestly stood under the spotlight by the Night Wing exhibit map. He’d learned a few new interesting facts about bats and owls as he continued to read.

A commotion within the fenced area pulled his attention from the signage. A figure bursted from the tree line a couple of yards away. He jumped back in surprise. “What the…”

He squinted. Crouched on the ground, the person gasped, almost hyperventilating.

He blinked in recognition. It was the red-headed woman earlier from the food tent who’d made quite an impression. “Are you alright?” he stammered out the question.

Her head shot up. Wide eyes stared back framed in a wild mess of curls. He gulped at the skin on display under the lamp post light. Tiny red marks crosshatched along her arms and bare back. She clutched a tote over her chest. The top half of her dress hung in tatters over her belt.

Priestly raised his hands and approached slow. “What happened?” He knelt beside her.

“I-I-” She waved a hand, arms tight to her sides so the flimsy bag’s material could preserve some modesty. “I went down that path” –she pointed back from where she appeared– “and, a bunch of the exhibit gates were opened.” Her voice cracked. “Before I knew it, there were owls and bats, everywhere, and I-I got caught in this awful melee.”

Priestly wanted to pat her in comfort. But, considering she was half-naked, he thought better of it. “The gates were opened?” he asked, incredulous. He scanned the path as far as he could in both directions. “Where the hell’s an employee when you need one? Is this Best Buy? They were everywhere a little while ago.” He muttered to himself before gazing at the woman. “You’re hurt. I’m gonna go get some help.”

He rose, only to be snatched up into a fierce embrace. She fisted his vest with both hands. The tote’s canvas material, which held some stiff objects, smushed tight between their bodies. “No,” she begged. “Please, don’t get anyone. I’m in such a state. I’ll be mortified.”

Priestly lifted his hands up and away so there was no chance of an accidental brush or touch. He felt like the one in trouble at the moment. “Um,” he thought out loud. An idea formed. “Listen, you need to get looked at by someone. But let’s work on getting you out of here first. Okay?”

She nodded into his chest. He inhaled. Her scent was rather pleasant. Spicy and sharp. 

“Why don’t you go behind that sign there? I’ll give you my shirt to put on.”

“Alright.”

He breathed in relief when she released him. A fast blur scurried around the area map. Without wasting time, he peeled off his vest, dropped it to the ground, and then tugged the T-shirt over his head by the collar. He turned around and stepped backward until his side hit the hardwood of the sign. “Here.” Eager fingers snatched the material from his hand.

“Thank you.” 

The lilt in her voice fluttered Priestly’s heartbeat. Goosebumps formed on the back of his neck. He wanted to blame it on the cool air skirting along his bare chest. “No problem,” he said. He tried again. “Are you sure I can’t go and look for some help? I think I saw a medical tent near the stage.”

“No!” She expelled the word with force from her throat that time.

“Sure. Sure.” He mumbled as his gaze scoured the ground. He picked up the discarded vest and plunged his arms through the openings. The benefit coordinators probably wouldn’t appreciate a punk Tarzan impersonation.

“I’m very grateful for this. Truly.” The woman called out. “What can I call you, besides my knight in shining armor?”

He chuckled. “Um, Priestly.”

“Presley?”

“No, Priestly.” He emphasized the “t”.

“Oh. Priestly,” she repeated. “I’m Rowena.” Her voice was closer now, no barrier between them.

Cautious, Priestly looked up. He couldn’t help but smile at the vision before him. She stuffed the remnants of her dress in the big bag. The forest green shirt, slightly roomy on him, swallowed up her slight frame. She’d wrapped the big black belt around it. The bottom hem fell just above the top of her thigh high boots. Her fingers threaded through the mane of hair to wrangle it in place. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Rowena.”

She sighed and grinned at him. “Aye. But, we might not have met again if not for this.”

He recalled her flirtation from earlier. He stared at the design and text on the shirt he had custom made for the Beastly Ball. A cartoon panda munched away on some bamboo. A text bubble above the panda’s head declared in big, bold font: Raw Dog Me, I’m a Bottom.

She strolled over and rested a hand on his vest. “How can I ever repay such chivalry?” She whispered something else after the question… something he couldn’t make out.

Before he could ask her to repeat what she’d said, his thoughts clouded. Nothing seemed very important at the moment. A sense of relaxation washed over him.

“I would very much appreciate a walk back to my car, Priestly. And, I promise I’ll make sure I get myself straight to a hospital.”

He nodded. His head bobbed and swayed. “Good idea. I mean, yeah, bats and owls. You probably need a rabies shot.”

“Probably so.” She nodded in agreement. Her grin reached her ears. She held up a business card and tucked it in another one of his vest pockets. “But, you. You’re going to stop by my shop soon to pick up this shirt, aye?”

He smiled, then nodded. “Aye.”

Part 2 "Surf Naked" is here.

Story Notes: Google pics of a Burrowing Owl and the absolutely adorable Elf Owl. I have plans for this story to fill four bingo squares over as many parts. Things are gonna go off the rails (and probably quite smutty). Will see how my first foray into writing for Priestly goes. Also, so many thanks to @sam-is-my-safe-word for brainstorming all the chaos and kink with me.

[lila-lou]

✨Rookie - 3/3✨

Summary: You took the job for the paycheck—not expecting your colleague with wild hair and too many piercings to be this charming. Turns out, behind the sarcasm and mustard doodles, he’s kind of impossible not to fall for.

-requested-

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language

Word Count: 3594

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

The past week had been… bliss. Priestly had always been touchy with you, but ever since that night at his place, he was relentless. Whether it was his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back while you worked, a hand resting low on your waist when you passed behind him, or the way he kissed you just because—he wasn’t holding back.

And you? You weren’t complaining.

That afternoon, the shop was in its usual midday lull, with only a couple of customers lingering at the tables. You were wiping down the counter when Priestly came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Priestly”, you laughed, nudging him. “We work here”.

“Exactly”, he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss behind your ear. “Which means I get paid while I flirt with you. It’s a win-win”.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “You’re ridiculous”.

“And you love it”, he shot back, spinning you around so you were facing him, his hands still firm on your waist. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and just as he was about to steal another kiss, the bell above the door jingled.

“Boaz?”.

The name made your stomach drop, even before you turned to see her.

Tish.

She stood just inside the shop, looking the same as she had in the old pictures Priestly had shown you—gorgeous, confident, effortlessly put-together. But right now? She looked… stunned.

Priestly tensed against you, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. “Tish”, he said, his usual teasing edge gone. “Uh. Hey”.

Her eyes flickered between the two of you—your closeness, his hands still resting on you, the way you had clearly just been seconds away from kissing. But then, her gaze really settled on Priestly, and her expression shifted to something unreadable.

“You—”, she started, tilting her head. “You changed back?”.

You frowned, glancing at Priestly. And that’s when it hit you.

You had only known this version of him—the wild hair, the piercings, the sarcastic smirk. But from what Priestly had told you about his relationship with Tish, he had changed for her. Smoothed out his edges, toned down the things that made him him.

And now, standing in front of her, he was back.

Priestly shrugged, his smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, well. Guess I got tired of pretending to be someone I’m not”.

Tish blinked, like she was still processing it. “Wow”.

Priestly leaned against the counter, his usual cocky stance returning, but you could feel the tension beneath it. “You back in town permanently, or just here to remind me how much better I look now?”.

Tish let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You haven’t changed that much”.

He smirked. “Debatable”.

Then she glanced at you, her expression unreadable. “So, you and Boaz?”.

Your throat tightened at the way she said his real name. Like it meant something different coming from her. But before you could say anything, Priestly’s arm was already around your waist again, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your hip. “Yeah”, he said, casual, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “She’s my girl”.

Your heart skipped at the certainty in his voice.

Tish hesitated, her gaze lingering on Priestly for just a second too long before she nodded. “Well… good for you”.

Priestly just smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your temple like it was second nature. “Yeah. It really is”.

Tish lingered for a moment longer, her eyes flickering between you and Priestly. You could tell she was still processing, still piecing together what she had just walked into. And for a second—just a second—you wondered if she was regretting something.

But then she straightened, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress like she was resetting herself.

“Well”, she said, forcing a small smile. “I was just passing by, thought I’d stop in. But I’ll let you two get back to…”. Her gaze flickered to Priestly’s arm around your waist. “…work”.

Priestly grinned, completely unbothered. “Don’t be a stranger, Tish”.

She gave a short laugh, shaking her head. “Right. Take care, Boaz”.

And with that, she turned and walked out, the bell above the door jingling in her wake.

The moment she was gone, Priestly let out a dramatic exhale, his body slumping against yours. “Well”, he muttered, his hand still firmly on your waist. “That was fucking weird”.

You snorted, nudging him. “You okay?”.

He straightened, glancing down at you, his expression unreadable for just a second before he smirked. “Please. I’m thriving”.

But you knew him better than that.

You studied his face, watching the way his jaw tensed slightly, the way his fingers twitched against your hip. “You wanna talk about it?”.

Priestly blinked, his smirk faltering. “You wanna talk about my ex?”.

You shrugged, leaning against the counter. “I just mean… I know she was important to you. And seeing her again after all this time? That’s gotta feel weird”.

He was quiet for a second, then sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess”.

You didn’t push. Just let the silence sit between you. Then, after a beat, he turned toward you fully, his hands settling at your hips as he backed you against the counter. “But you know what doesn’t feel weird?”, he murmured, tilting his head.

You arched a brow. “What?”.

His lips quirked into a smirk, but there was something softer behind it this time—something real. “Being with you”.

Your heart flipped.

He leaned down, brushing his nose against yours. “Tish was… a different life”, he murmured. “A life where I tried to be someone I wasn’t just to keep her around”.

His hands tightened at your waist, his forehead pressing against yours.

“But you?”. His voice dropped lower, more serious. “I don’t have to pretend with you. And that’s how I know this? You and me? This is the real thing”.

Your breath caught. Priestly had always been good with words. Always knew how to flirt, how to tease, how to make you flustered without even trying. But this? This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t teasing. This was him.

You swallowed, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Priestly…”.

He grinned, his lips barely brushing against yours. “Yeah, babe?”.

“I love you”.

The words slipped out before you could stop them, but as soon as you said them, you knew—you meant them. Priestly’s smirk softened, his hands sliding up to cup your face. “Yeah?”.

You nodded, barely breathing. “Yeah”.

His lips crashed against yours, the kiss slow, deep, full. When he finally pulled back, his thumb stroked your cheek, his forehead still resting against yours. “I love you too, rookie”.

But then, days passed.

The first time Tish showed up again, you didn’t think much of it.

The second time, you started to wonder.

By the third, fourth, fifth time, it was impossible to ignore.

She always had perfect timing—coming in right when your shift was ending, just as Priestly still had another hour or two to work. And since the shop was often slow at that time, that left them alone. Just the two of them.

At first, you tried to brush it off.

Tish was his ex, sure, but so what? You trusted Priestly. He was with you. He had chosen you.

But then you started noticing things.

The way she lingered a little too long at the counter, twirling her straw between her fingers as she talked to him. The way he laughed with her—really laughed, in that easy, familiar way that made your stomach twist. The way he seemed so… comfortable with her. Like nothing had ever changed.

Like there was still something there. And maybe you weren’t meant to see it. But you did.

One evening, just as you were about to head out, you glanced over your shoulder. Tish was sitting on the counter—actually sitting on it, legs swinging as she leaned toward Priestly, her face lit up with laughter.

And Priestly?

He was right in front of her, grinning in a way you hadn’t seen in weeks. You felt your stomach drop.You turned on your heel and walked out.

After that, something shifted in you.

You didn’t break up with Priestly, didn’t even mention what you saw. Because what could you say? That he was laughing with his ex? That they were getting too comfortable?

That wasn’t fair. You trusted him…Didn’t you?

So instead, you pulled back—just a little.

You started leaving the shop a little quicker at the end of your shifts, avoiding those quiet moments where it was just the two of you. You didn’t lean into his touch as much at work, didn’t kiss him as often just because.

And maybe Priestly noticed. Maybe he felt the shift in you. But he didn’t say anything. And that? That made it worse.

The distance between you and Priestly stretched wider with each passing day.

The nights you used to spend tangled in his sheets, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat? Gone.

You told yourself it wasn’t on purpose, that you were just busy, or tired, or that you just needed a little space.

But deep down, you knew.

You couldn’t go home with him—not when the image of him and Tish, laughing together, so close, was burned into your mind.

So, instead of heading to his place after your shifts, you started going home—your home. Alone.

The first night, you expected him to text. To call. To ask why you hadn’t come over. He didn’t.

The second night, you caved and sent a casual message: Gonna crash at my place tonight. See you at work tomorrow. His reply came quickly: Everything okay? You hesitated before sending: Yeah, just tired. He didn’t push.

By the fourth night, you were lying awake in bed, staring at your phone, waiting for something—some kind of sign that he noticed what was happening. That he missed you. That he cared. But there was nothing. And maybe that was your answer.

At work, things felt… off. He still flirted, still teased, still tried to pull you into those playful moments that used to make your heart race—but it wasn’t the same. You weren’t the same.

And he could feel it.

The spark, the ease that had always existed between you, was fading into something quieter, heavier. You weren’t pulling away completely, but you weren’t leaning in anymore, either.

And Priestly wasn’t stupid. But he also wasn’t the type to dwell.

So, instead of questioning it, he did what he always did—brushed it off, cracked a joke, and assumed that whatever was going on with you would work itself out.

And for a while, that worked. Until it didn’t.

It had been over a week now since you’d stayed over at his place. A week of avoiding those quiet, intimate moments with him, a week of convincing yourself that you were the problem—that maybe you were just being insecure, or overthinking things, or reading into something that wasn’t there.

But then Tish came in again.

You didn’t even have to look—you felt it. The shift in the air, the way Priestly’s voice dropped into that familiar, comfortable rhythm when he talked to her. The way she leaned in too close, smiled too wide, and lingered when she didn’t need to.

You were in the back, pretending to organize something in the storage closet, when you heard Priestly’s laugh. Not the usual, teasing one he threw around so easily. This one was real. Deep. Familiar. The kind of laugh that used to be just yours. And that? That was it.

You turned, grabbed your things, and walked straight out the back door.

Priestly showed up at your apartment that night.

You had barely gotten through the door when the knocking started—loud, insistent. You knew it was him. Of course, it was him.

For a second, you thought about ignoring it. Just pretending you weren’t home, letting him wonder for once. But then his voice came through the door. “(Y/N), open up”.

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. A pause. “Seriously, babe, what the hell is going on?”.

You exhaled sharply, your stomach twisting, before you yanked the door open, arms crossed over your chest. “What do you want, Priestly?”.

He blinked, like he hadn’t actually expected you to open the door. “Are you kidding?”. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. “What the fuck is going on with you?”.

You huffed, turning away. “Nothing”.

“Bullshit”.

You felt him step inside, shutting the door behind him, his voice edging toward frustration. “You’ve been acting weird for over a week now—barely looking at me at work, avoiding me, not even coming home with me—”.

“I don’t have to go home with you every night, Priestly”.

That shut him up. For a second, neither of you said anything.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Look, I just—needed space, okay?”.

Priestly scoffed. “Space?”. His jaw clenched. “From me?”.

You hesitated.

His eyes narrowed. “What the hell did I do?”.

You swallowed, your throat tight. “Nothing”.

His frustration cracked slightly, a flicker of something else crossing his face—something almost… uncertain. “…Is this about your period?”.

Your head snapped up. “What?”.

Priestly shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I mean, I figured maybe you were just PMSing or something”. He exhaled. “I thought I was giving you space to, I don’t know, deal with that or whatever”.

Your stomach dropped. Of course, he thought that. Of course, he thought your moodiness was about something else. Because why would he think it was about him? Why would he think you had spent the last week drowning in doubt? That you had been lying awake at night, staring at your ceiling, wondering if you were losing him?

You let out a short, humorless laugh.

Priestly frowned. “What?”.

You shook your head, stepping back. “You really don’t get it, do you?”.

His brows furrowed. “What the fuck am I supposed to get, (Y/N)?”.

You scoffed, crossing your arms tighter over your chest. “Tish”.

His expression shattered into confusion. “Tish?”. He blinked. “What about her?”.

You let out a breath, shaking your head. “Are you serious?”.

Priestly looked genuinely lost, like he had no idea why you were bringing her up. Which somehow made it even worse.

“Priestly, she’s been showing up constantly—always at the end of my shifts, always when you’re alone—”.

“So what?”, he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “It’s not like I invited her”.

You exhaled sharply, your voice almost breaking. “No, but you never told her to leave”.

His expression shifted—like something had finally clicked.

Your throat tightened. “I see you with her. I see the way you laugh with her, how comfortable you are—”. You swallowed.

Priestly just stared at you, completely silent. And that? That was worse than if he had yelled.

You exhaled shakily, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “I don’t wanna be the girl sitting around, waiting for her boyfriend to decide if he still loves her or if he wants to go back to his ex”.

Priestly’s face dropped. “Wait—”.

But you were already stepping back, already reaching for the door.

“Maybe you should figure that out, Priestly”.

And with that, you kicked him out.

The next day, you barely left your bed.

The weight of last night’s fight sat heavy in your chest, every word replaying over and over in your head. The way Priestly had looked at you—so confused, so shocked—made you feel even worse.

Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you should have just talked to him about it sooner instead of letting it fester inside you until you exploded. But at the same time… You shouldn’t have had to explain why it hurt. He should have noticed.

By the time the evening rolled around, you were still curled up in bed, your blankets cocooned around you, the only light in your room coming from your dim bedside lamp.

But then there was a knock at your door.

You groaned, burying your face into your pillow. You were not in the mood to deal with anyone.

“(Y/N)", Priestly’s voice came through the door. “I know you’re in there. And I come bearing gifts”.

You hesitated, your stomach flipping. Slowly, you got up, dragging your blanket with you as you shuffled toward the door. When you cracked it open, your breath caught.

Priestly stood there, looking—nervous. Like, actually nervous. No cocky smirk, no teasing remark—just him, shifting awkwardly on his feet, holding a huge bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and two pizza boxes in the other, with a DVD case tucked under his arm.

“…What are you doing?”, you muttered.

He exhaled, offering you a small, lopsided smile. “Trying to apologize without actually admitting I was wrong”.

You stared at him.

He sighed. “Fine. I was wrong”. He nudged the flowers toward you. “And these are me groveling for forgiveness”.

You hesitated before finally taking them, your fingers brushing his as you did. The scent of fresh flowers filled the air, and for some reason, that made your chest ache. “…And the pizza?”, you asked quietly.

Priestly’s lips twitched slightly. “Bribery”.

You raised a brow. “And the movie?”.

He shifted the boxes to flash the DVD cover. Scream.

You almost smiled. “You hate horror movies”.

“Yeah, well”, he shrugged, “you love them. And I’m kinda desperate here”.

Your heart squeezed. Priestly never did stuff like this—he wasn’t the big, romantic gesture type. He showed his love in teasing words and sarcastic smiles, in lingering touches and lazy forehead kisses. But this? This was him trying.

You stepped back, opening the door wider. “You coming in or what?”.

His grin was instant. “Oh, thank God”.

He stepped inside, kicking off his boots before setting the pizzas down on your coffee table. You watched as he grabbed the remote, making himself at home on your couch like nothing had happened.

But before he could press play, he turned to you, his expression more serious.

“Look, (Y/N), I was an idiot”, he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t see what was happening. And that’s on me. But I never—not for a single second—questioned whether I wanted you”.

You swallowed. “Priestly—”.

“I love you”, he interrupted, his voice softer now. “Not Tish. Not the past. You. And I should have made sure you knew that”.

Your throat tightened.

He sighed, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “I told Tish today that she needed to stop showing up so much. That I don’t want her hanging around all the time—especially not if it makes you feel like shit”.

Your breath hitched. “You did?”.

He nodded, glancing up at you. “Yeah”. A beat passed. Then—his lips curled into something softer. “And she might have called me an asshole, so, you know. Win-win”.

A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, and that—that was when you saw the tension melt from his shoulders.

Priestly reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I don’t wanna fight with you, rookie. I just wanna be with you”.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Me too”.

His smile widened, and he tugged you onto the couch beside him, pulling you against his chest. “Good. Now shut up and eat your pizza while I suffer through this stupid movie for you”.

You laughed, curling into him.

The movie played in the background, but you weren’t really paying attention—not when Priestly’s fingers were tracing lazy circles on your arm, not when his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear. The pizza was half-eaten, the flowers sat in a glass of water on your coffee table, and for the first time in days, you felt light again.

Priestly let out a dramatic sigh, shifting beneath you. “Okay, so maybe horror movies aren’t that bad”.

You smirked, tilting your head up to look at him. “Told you”.

He rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just add it to the long-ass list of things you’re always right about”.

You hummed, snuggling closer. “Might take up a whole notebook”.

“Great”, he teased, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll title it: How to Date (Y/N) Without Fucking It Up”.

You laughed, nudging him. “That’s a terrible title”.

He grinned, tugging you impossibly closer, his lips brushing against yours. “Maybe. But the ending’s gonna be pretty damn good”.

And when he kissed you, slow and sweet, you knew, this was real. This was you and him. He loved you and you loved him.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @barnes70stark @roseblue373 @shanimallina87 @ascarriel @deanwinchesters67impala @thebiggerbear @quietgirll75 @barnes70stark @kellyls04 @spxideyver @ralilda @americanvenom13 @ozwriterchick @lmg14

[supernotnatural2005]

Picture Perfect

Pairing: Boaz/Priestly x Reader

Summary: You decide to surprise your boyfriend Priestly with a spontaneous request he’d made months ago, however, not everything goes to plan.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings/tags: Fluff, swearing, mentions of spice.

Prompt: “You have to find it before the others do.”

AN: This is another submission for my @jacklesversebingo card, and also my first time writing for Priestly! 😅 like I mentioned in my announcement, I was inspired by the lovely @zepskies Headcanon for ‘man flu’, which included our beloved Priestly, as well as her other work for him. 😍 I hope you guys enjoy ☺️

Main Masterlist

The Beach City Grill was already buzzing when you slipped through the door. The smell of fresh bread and sizzling bacon filled the small space, and the usual suspects were in their spots.

Tish leaning against the counter with her coffee, Piper wiping down tables, and Jen stacking fresh loaves onto the display.  

You had one mission. And you had to be smooth.  

“Look what the wind blew in,” Tish teased as you strolled up to the counter. “Aren’t you supposed to be working or something?”  

“Day off,” you said, offering an easy smile. “Figured I’d grab lunch.”  

Jen cocked her head. “You know Priestly doesn’t start for another hour, right?”  

You rolled your eyes. “You guys act like I only come here for him.”  

“That’s because you do,” Piper chimed in, flashing you a knowing look. “Come on, sweet thing, you could have any guy. How did you end up with Priestly?”  

You feigned offence. “Excuse you. He’s amazing.”  

Tish snorted. “Oh, we love Priestly. But he’s just a lot of… Priestly.”  

Piper nodded. “And you’re so sweet.”  

You just smiled, biting your tongue. If only they knew how not-so-sweet you could be behind closed doors—especially when it came to Priestly.  

Your fingers curled around the small Polaroid tucked in your sleeve.  

You hadn't planned on doing something like this. It all started, a couple of weeks ago, when Priestly went off on one of his tangents about how modern romantic gestures lacked creativity, now you all had cell phones. In one of his off hand musings—while the two of you were tangled up in bed—he’d said something so ridiculous, you’d almost ignored it.

“You know what would be romantic?” he murmured, tracing lazy patterns along your bare back.

“What?” you asked, half-asleep against his chest.

“A physical nude.”

That woke you up. “I’m sorry—what?”

“Like, an actual photo. Not some digital thing that can get hacked or deleted.” He sighed dreamily. “Just… something personal, something just for me. Like back in the old days.”  He wiggled his brows suggestively.

You’d snorted, shoving his chest. “You’re such a dork.”  

Before you could react, he rolled you under him, the sudden shift stealing a breathless giggle from your lips. His weight pressed against you, solid and warm, as his fingers ghosted along your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His lips found yours—soft at first, teasing, like he had all the time in the world. But then he deepened the kiss, slow and thorough, as if savouring the taste of you.

Your body responded instinctively, arching into him, heat curling in your stomach despite the exhaustion still lingering in your limbs from your previous ‘activities’. He kissed you like you were something precious, something he couldn’t get enough of and it made your head spin.

His hand slid up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips.

“I’m just sayin’,” he said, grinning down at you, breath warm against your skin. “Classic nudes? That’s romance.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head before tugging him back down, shutting him up with another lingering kiss, letting yourself melt into him once more.

And yet, even as your world narrowed to nothing but him once more, the idea stuck, taking root and nestling in the back of your mind, refusing to let go.

And, well… now here you were, planning to slip a very romantic little surprise into his 'Ultimate Sandwich Bible''.  

Time to make your move.  

As Tish turned to refill her coffee, and with the others busy at the grill, you subtly flipped the book open to a random page and slipped the picture inside. Then, with the most innocent expression you could muster, you picked up the menu.  

“So,” you said, shifting gears, “what do I want today?”  

Jen gave you a weird look. “Uh… you always get turkey and avocado.”  

You pretended to think it over. “Maybe I should switch it up?”  

Tish quirked a brow. “Why? Is this a whole new you?”  

“Nah, just trying something different.” You forced a small smile, resisting the urge to glance at the book. “You never know what might surprise you.”  

The girls exchanged looks, but thankfully, they didn’t question it.  

Mission accomplished.  

After ordering, you sat at the counter and chatted for a while, playing it cool before finally grabbing your sandwich and heading out. As you walked home, you could not stop grinning.  

Priestly was in for a long shift.  

Back at your apartment, you curled up on the couch, still feeling giddy. You could just imagine the moment he found it—how he’d go stiff, eyes widening, and then spend the rest of the day knowing he had it tucked in his pocket with no way to do anything about it.  

You smirked to yourself.  

Best. Girlfriend. Ever.  

Then—  

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. 

You frowned. Who the hell—?  

Sliding off the couch, you padded over and pulled open the door.  

Priestly stood there, leaning lazily against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips. His hair was electric blue this week, spiked up in chaotic perfection, the colour making his sharp green eyes pop even more.

His signature Surf Naked t-shirt clung to him in all the right places, the neckline stretched just enough to give you a teasing glimpse of the ink curling up his neck. The patchy sideburns and scruff only added to his effortlessly rebellious charm. He was a walking contradiction—grungy but gorgeous, ridiculous but ridiculously hot.

And right now, he had no idea there was a problem.

Your stomach dropped.  

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?”  

“Nope,” he said, not noticing your rising panic as he stepped inside. “Trucker gave me the day off.”  

Your blood ran cold.  

Oh no.  

“You—” You swallowed hard. “You didn’t go in at all?”  

“Nope.” He shot you a curious look. “He called me. Why?”  

Your breath hitched.  

Oh no.    

“Shit,” you muttered, spinning away and grabbing your phone.  

Priestly blinked. “Okay, what is happening right now?”  

You quickly texted Tish - 'Hey, is Priestly’s cookbook still on the counter?'  

Three dots popped up. Then—  

Tish: 'Nope, Trucker grabbed it earlier when he was cleaning. Why?'  

Your soul left your body.  

Priestly leaned over your shoulder. “Babe. What did you do?”  

You groaned, shoving your phone away.  

He folded his arms. “What’s going on?”  

You turned to him, heart hammering. “You have to find it before the others do!”  

His brows shot up. “Find what?”  

You hesitated, face heating.  

His eyes narrowed. “Oh, you so did something bad.” A grin began to form on his lips.

“I may have… hidden something for you,” you admitted. “In The Sandwich Bible.”  

Priestly blinked. “Okay… And?”  

“And—” You exhaled sharply. “It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”  

“…What kind of surprise?”  

Your jaw clenched. “The personal kind.”  

Priestly stared.  

Then—his eyes widened.  

“Oh, Oh.”  

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Yeah.”  

“You hid a dirty picture in my cookbook?”  

“Yes.”  

His lips parted in stunned silence. 

Then, he fully beamed. “Ohhh, this is amazing.”  

“No, Priestly,” you groaned, grabbing his shirt. “This is bad. Trucker has it. Trucker!”  

His grin vanished.  

“Oh shit.”  

“Yes! Shit! Now we have to get it back before he—”  

Your phone buzzed again.  

Tish: 'Trucker left the book in the back. Why are you freaking out?'  

You let out a strangled sound of relief.  

Priestly peeked at your screen. “Okay, okay—so it’s still in the shop.” He grabbed his keys. “We can fix this. Come on.”  

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face as you trudged behind him. “This was supposed to be a nice surprise.”  

Priestley’s smirk softened. He paused and stepped closer, fingers curling under your chin to tilt your face up to his. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, voice teasing but warm, “when I do get my hands on it, trust me—it’s gonna have a nice surprise from me.”  

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips, and then your breath hitched when he leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. His thumb brushed your cheek, grounding you, pulling you back from your spiralling panic.  

“You’re the sweetest thing, you know that?” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “The fact that you did this for me? That’s the best damn thing I could ask for.”  

You huffed, unable to fight your smile as he kissed you again, slow and deep, before tugging you toward the door.

“We should probably go before Trucker hangs it up on the specials board,” he teased, winking as he pulled you toward the door.

By the time you arrived back at the shop, the damage was already done.

Trish leaned against the counter, twirling the infamous polaroid between two fingers, a knowing smirk on her lips. Jen and Piper were beside her, and from the looks of it, they had all gotten a good look.

“Well, well,” Trish drawled, eyes flicking between you and Priestly. “And here I thought he was the wild one.”

Heat flared across your cheeks as you sputtered. “I—It’s not—”

“Oh, it definitely is,” Jen cut in, laughing.

Priestly snatched the polaroid from Trish, giving her a look to say that’s enough but as soon his eyes landed on the picture, he faltered. Priestly swallowed hard, dragging his gaze over the image—over you, in some barely-there lingerie, posed just right, your sultry expression locked onto the camera.

He exhaled, slow and deliberate, before turning to you, eyes dark with something entirely different than amusement.

“This,” he said, voice low and certain, “is the best thing you could’ve possibly given me.”

“Yeah?” you murmured, suddenly shy under the intensity of his stare, a contradictory to the picture in his hands.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed you—hard, quick, stealing your breath.

“Fuck yes,” he muttered against your lips before pulling you in again, deeper this time, slow and heated.

Piper, who had been swooning just seconds ago, suddenly let out a dramatic groan at the unmistakable swipe of Priestly’s tongue. “Ugh." She grimaced, "They do realise families come here?”

Jen snorted, stuck between wanting to look away and being just fascinated enough to keep watching. “I feel like I shouldn’t be watching this.”

Trish sidled up next to them, a knowing smirk on her lips as you and Priestly kissed like no one else existed.

Piper tilted her head then, studying the way he held you, the way you melted into him. “You know what?” she mused. “I think I get it now.”

The other two hummed in agreement, watching as Priestly grinned against your lips, tugging you even closer. And judging by the look in his eyes—and the way he was still clutching that polaroid like it was sacred—you had a feeling you wouldn’t be leaving his sight for the rest of the night.

AN: Okay i hope you guys enjoyed that one! I think Priestly is just the most adorable character and deserves more love! Let me what you thought 🤗💕

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Jensen Ackles/Priestly Tag List:

@mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @winchestergirl2 @lyarr24 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @kr804573 @ultimatecin73

[radioactivatedspider]

Opposites Attract, Apparently.

Main Masterlist Ten Inch Hero Masterlist

Pairings; Boaz Priestly x reader

Genre; fluff

Warnings; none

Summary; Sweet, girly yn dating punk Priestly leaves everyone stunned-but love doesn't always follow the rules.

294 words

If anyone had taken bets at Beach City’s sandwich shop on who Priestly—the loud, eyeliner-wearing, mohawk-sporting, kilt-rocking rebel—would end up dating, no one would have guessed her.

YN was like a walking beam of sunshine. Soft cardigans, pastel skirts, ribbons in her hair, and a laugh that made people turn and smile even if they didn’t know why.

So when she walked in one sunny afternoon, slipped behind the counter, wrapped her arms around Priestly from behind, and kissed his cheek, the room fell into stunned silence.

Tish dropped a tray of clean glasses. Piper froze mid-swipe over the register. Jen's eyebrow shot so far up it practically touched her hairline. Trucker stopped mid-sentence on a story about his biker days and just stared.

“Hey, babe,” Priestly said, like nothing was out of the ordinary. He tilted his head toward her for a quick kiss, grinning like the smug punk boyfriend he now very clearly was.

Tish whispered to Piper, “She’s like a cupcake. He’s…like a Sex Pistols album. How?!”

“I…don’t know,” Piper said slowly. “But I think I love this.”

Trucker leaned on the counter, still trying to process. “Okay, I gotta ask—how did that happen?”

YN beamed, gently tugging on one of Priestly’s many ear piercings. “He was the only one who didn’t judge me when I was having the worst day of my life. Then he made me laugh so hard I cried.”

“And she didn’t flinch when I dyed my beard neon green,” Priestly added proudly.

Jen squinted at them. “So…you’re telling me this isn’t a dare?”

“Nope,” Priestly said. “She’s into me. All this chaos? Yeah, she likes it.”

YN giggled. “It’s kind of hot.”

Cue another round of stunned silence.

“Okay,” Trucker muttered. “I need to sit down.”

[deangirlsstuff67]

Boaz Priestly Masterlist

—————————————————————————

Mini Series/ Head Cannons:

Who Doesn’t Love Piercings - Out of His League 🍒

Summary: You make him a deal, he shows you his secret and you show him yours.

[pieandflannel]

wip game!

rules: in a new post, post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell us about it. then tag as many people as you have wips.

✧ – i counted over 50+ wips and ideas, a lot of them don’t have titles yet because it’s a note with a single sentence or inspo image, so i will share the ones im trying my best to focus on first, i got unmedicated adhd and my focus is so bad so if it turns out you don’t see a certain drabble/fic for a while i apologise. 🥺

[please be patient with me as currently my life has been a busy mess 😭]

01. tiger stripes (beau arlen fluff)

02. hey emo boy (boaz priestly smut)

03. [probably a three parter] desire (older!jackles 18+ fic)

04. a real woman (soldier boy 18+ fluff)

05. [no title yet] anemic reader (sam winchester fluff)

06. thick thighs & puppy eyes (dean winchester 18+ fluff)

07. [no title yet] holiday headcanons (team freewill 2.0 fluff)

ask away abt any of them if you want!

thanking the amazing @figthoughts and @littlesoulshine for tagging me <3

no pressure tags: (sorry if you already were a participant) @emeraldcrs @missus-ackles @deansbeer @h8aaz @heartrendercastiel @rositaslabyrinth @miss-marmalade @pinksatinpanties @losers-clvb

[cheynovak]

Taking it slow

Summary: Follows up fanfiction 'Spikes and the beach city reunion' Y/N and Priestly decided to take it slow on whatever it was they just found with each other. Y/N sees it as a good thing, not knowing it's because Priestly is unsure of the age difference.

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated

Priestly and Y/N spent nearly every evening together after that first kiss. It started with simple hangouts—late-night drives along the coast, sharing fries at the Beach City Grill, or getting lost in old record stores. They’d talk about everything: the wild, rebellious dreams they’d both used to have and how they’d grown since then.

Though neither of them used the word “dating,” it felt like it. Priestly would reach for her hand across the table, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her palm. Y/N would lean into him, feeling a warmth she hadn’t realized she’d missed since her teenage years.

They didn’t need to label it; it was theirs, and that was enough.

But Priestly had asked one thing—to keep things under the radar. At first, Y/N understood, even agreed. It was new, and they wanted to protect this fragile, precious thing they were building.

But as the weeks passed, she began to suspect there was more to his hesitation. She caught Priestly glancing around sometimes, like he was worried someone might be watching.

Little did she know that each time Tish would catch sight of them, she’d smirk, rolling her eyes, mocking Priestly with her devilish little laugh.

One evening during closing, Tish decided to confront Priestly while Y/N wasn’t around.

She leaned against the counter, watching him with a sly smile, eyes glinting with malice. “So, Boaz...” she sneered, crossing her arms, “how’s your little sugar baby doing? Isn’t it a little… inappropriate? Old man like you, running around with a kid?" Dirty old man "

But when he didn't answered her she added. "Chasing after young women… pathetic don't you think?”

Priestly felt a flicker of irritation but kept his voice even. “Not that it's any of your business Platicia. But we’re just taking things slow." He pushed the broom in her hands and left for the back. But not before turning around.

"And Y/N’s not a kid—she’s a grown woman. A beautiful woman who sees more than just the outside. I wish I had that gift, I wouldn't be drawn in by your poison.”

“Oh please,” Tish scoffed, flipping her hair back with a smirk. “You’re just embarrassed to admit it. You know everyone’s going to look at you and think you’re just another washed-up guy trying to relive his youth through some young girl."

"Whatever, Tish, it’s… over. Grow up and let me go.”

--

Next morning Y/N walked into the Beach City Grill with a spring in her step, she wanted to surprise Priestly since he seemed a bit down yesterday and this morning. Maybe sneak in a kiss before his shift got too busy. But when she leaned in, he turned away, his body stiff, his focus somewhere else.

“Uh, the usual?” he asked, not meeting her eyes.

Y/N felt her stomach sink. “Uh… yeah,” she replied, trying to keep her voice casual, but confusion seeped in. She watched him for a moment, waiting for the easy smile he usually had for her, the little spark in his eye when he saw her.

But today… there was none of that. Instead, he busied himself behind the counter, his attention fixed on everything except her.

Piper, working the front with him, glanced between them, noticing the strange tension. “You can take a seat, Y/N. I’ll bring the order when it’s ready,” she offered, her voice softer, like she sensed something was off.

“Oh… okay.” Y/N forced a small smile, nodding as she walked over to a booth in the corner. She tried to shake off the weird feeling that settled over her, tried to remind herself that maybe he was just having an off day.

Everyone had those, right?

But as she sat there, watching Priestly avoid her gaze, that sense of unease only grew. Every now and then, he’d glance her way, but his eyes would quickly dart away, his jaw tight. She could feel the space between them widening, and her mind spun, wondering if she’d done something wrong or if he was upset about something else.

When Piper finally brought her food over, she slid into the booth across from Y/N, a sympathetic look in her eyes. “Hey, everything okay with you two?” she asked gently, her voice low.

Y/N forced a small smile, but it faltered as she glanced over at Priestly, who was busying himself by cleaning the counter for the third time. “I… I’m not sure,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “He’s acting really strange. He won't even look at me.”

Piper nodded thoughtfully, glancing back at Priestly as well. “He’s been off all day, honestly. Maybe he’s just… I don’t know, going through something? Give him a bit of space. I’m sure he’ll talk to you when he’s ready.”

Y/N nodded, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Piper’s words gave her a bit of comfort, but it didn’t completely erase the ache building in her chest. She wanted to believe that Priestly was just having a rough day, but there was a tiny voice in her mind whispering doubts she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Y/N approached the counter, the uncomfortable feeling from earlier still lingering as she reached for her money. Priestly rang up her order without looking at her, his fingers drumming a quiet rhythm on the register as she handed over a few bills.

“So… tonight’s still happening, right?” she asked, keeping her voice casual but feeling a flutter of nerves. They’d planned a movie night at her place, and Y/N had been secretly hoping that he might finally stay the night.

Priestly glanced up, a quick flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, but he nodded, answering a little too quickly. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“Okay…” She gave him a small smile, though her heart still felt heavy as she turned to leave.

Later that night, when Priestly finally arrived at her place, it was like a switch had flipped. Whatever strange wall had been between them seemed to have melted away, and he was laughing, teasing her, the easygoing Priestly she’d fallen for all over again.

They settled in for the movie, curled up close on her couch, and for the first time that day, Y/N felt like she could finally relax.

As the movie played, she let her fingers trail down his arm, then his thigh, the warmth of him beneath her hand sparking something thrilling inside her.

She leaned over, pressing her lips to his neck, tasting the faint salt of his skin. His breath hitched, but just as she leaned in to kiss him again, she felt him tense.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice uncertain. “Do you… do you ever think of me as… you know, an old, dirty man?”

She pulled back, blinking in shock. “What? Why would you even say that?”

Priestly looked down, his fingers fidgeting as he hesitated. “Tish… she kind of planted the idea in my head. Said I was some washed-up guy chasing after a young girl. Said I was—”

“Stop.” She cut him off, her voice firm.

Without hesitation, she shifted, swinging a leg over his lap and straddling him, taking his face gently in her hands so he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. “Priestly, you are nothing like that,” she said, her gaze intense, leaving no room for doubt. “You’re kind, and thoughtful, and so damn good to me. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

He swallowed, searching her face, vulnerability flashing in his eyes. “I just… I don’t want you to regret being with me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

Y/N leaned in, her lips hovering just inches from his as she whispered, “You are helping me grow, see how a real relationship works." His eyes grew wide with that word: relationship.

"I don’t want anyone else, Priestly. I want you,” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, then to his lips, soft and lingering, before pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes. “Every part of you.”

He let out a slow breath, his shoulders finally relaxing as his hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer. A faint smile curved his lips as he rested his forehead against hers. “You’re sure?” he asked, still needing just a little more reassurance.

She nodded, running her fingers through his hair, tracing the line of his jaw. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With that, Priestly closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that was tender and full of all the things they’d both been holding back.

As Y/N’s fingers tangled in Priestly's hair, her lips parted as she gasped softly, feeling the heat building between them. Every kiss, every brush of his hands against her skin only made her want more. She could feel the intensity in his gaze, how he looked at her, checking in with her every step of the way, his thumb brushing along her cheek in a tender gesture that sent her heart racing.

Their eyes met, and she gave him a slight nod, her silent way of telling him she didn’t want him to stop. With a gentle but steady touch, he guided her back onto the couch, his hands sliding to her waist, his thumbs grazing her hips, making her shiver. She felt the warmth of his breath against her neck as he leaned down, his lips trailing along her collarbone, leaving a path of warmth in their wake.

Y/N’s hands found their way under his shirt, fingers gliding over the warm skin of his back, feeling the strength there as he hovered over her.

She let out a soft moan as his lips moved down over her shoulder to het stomach, and she tilted her head back, eyes half-lidded as she gave herself over to the moment, to him. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of them, wrapped up in each other’s warmth and intensity.

Priestly’s hands moved gently, fingers tracing along her sides as he slowly slid her clothes off, revealing her delicate black lace lingerie. He paused, eyes full of warmth and admiration as he took her in, his gaze lingering just long enough to make her feel both seen and desired.

He let his fingers brush over her bare skin, each touch making her breath hitch as he leaned down, taking his time. She arched toward him, pressing herself closer, seeking the warmth of his touch, the comfort of his presence.

The sight of this sexy man between her thighs made her moan even more. he looked up once more. "Absolutely sure you want me? Because once I have you I won'..."

"Please!" she urged him on. He smiled and dipped his head lower.

**The Next Morning**

Priestly slowly woke up, his senses overwhelmed by the warmth of the morning light and the softness of her body pressed against him.

He felt Y/N’s bare skin against his, her soft breath a sweet whisper in the quiet of the room. He had so many doubts and fear last night, but it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath his hand, the delicate scent of her hair that lingered on his pillow.

His face was nestled against the nape of her neck, and it felt like the most natural place to be. His lips, still half-dazed from sleep, traced a gentle path down her neck and across her shoulder.

He felt her stir, a soft hum vibrating through her, making his heart race. She was waking up, but she didn’t seem to mind his attention. She shifted, her body turning toward him with a sleepy smile, meeting his gaze with those tired, yet sparkling eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Priestly whispered, his voice rough with the remnants of sleep. She smiled softly, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and slow.

“How do you feel?” he asked shyly, the words leaving him almost as a breathless question. He needed to know if last night had been as perfect for her as it had been for him.

“Like I'm on cloud nine,” she smiled, her eyes glowing as she kissed him again, this time with a little more urgency. Priestly looked at her, still unsure. His insecurities creeping in despite the warmth of her embrace. “Really?”

She raised an eyebrow, pushing herself up on her elbows, Priestly turned on his back. She crawled over him to look him in the eyes. “Really.” She paused, searching his expression for any trace of doubt.

“Did I... you know... was it OK?” Priestly still wasn't sure. Being with Tish had made him so unsure about himsel.

Y/N’s lips curled into a gentle smile. “OK?” She giggled softly, lifting her head slightly to get a better look at him. “Priestly… it was perfect.”

His brow furrowed, and he searched her face for any hint of hesitation. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”

In response, she shifted, straddling him, her body now pressed flush against his, and for a moment, everything else faded. She could feel the tension in him, the way his breath hitched when their bodies aligned. Her eyes darkened with a hunger he couldn’t ignore, and the intimate silence spoke louder than words ever could.

“Babe…” she sighed softly, her lips trailing down his chest before she looked up again, meeting his eyes with a playful glint.

“I can’t get enough of you.” She kissed him deep, slow, with all the passion that was building between them. Her body moved against him, and he groaned softly, unable to resist her pull.

Priestly's heart pounded as his hands found their place against her skin, feeling the heat between them grow. His doubts melted away in the heat of her kiss, in the soft caress of her hands against him.

She was everything he had dreamed of in a woman, and now, she was here, with him.

"You're everything to me, Y/N," he whispered against her lips, as if the words were a confession, a promise. She smiled against his kiss, her lips never leaving his. "And you're exactly what I need."

--

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[deanbrainrotwritings]

— 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

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main masterlist

boaz priestly masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

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

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

REQUESTS :

requests for new fics are currently on hold as i have a ton of ideas myself that i'm still working on.

: if you would like to submit any requests that relate to any fics i've done already, you can do so. though, please keep in mind i have many things in the works and once i begin them, life always seems to get in the way.

please send requests/ideas to my inbox : tell me somethin' good

who i write for (if you haven't looked at my masterlist or tag list yet) :

jensen ackles, dean winchester, sam winchester, soldier boy, beau arlen, russell shaw, jake gray, jason teague, c.j. braxton, boaz priestly, tom hanniger, & alec mcdowell. [mark meachum will be added after countdown releases]

i will write :

smut, fluff, angst, age gaps, violence, miscarriages, alcohol abuse, physical abuse, cheating, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, and breeding kink, degradation, anti-danneel, headcanons

i only write female!reader as that's what i'm comfortable with

i will NOT write :

wincest, scat/piss, anal, bestiality, kid/daughter/sister!reader, alpha/omega, pegging, male x male, destiel, samstiel, sabriel, megstiel [will add more when i think of them]

i have every right to deny and delete requests as i deem necessary but as long as you stick to the guidelines, you'll be fine

INBOX :

i love to fangirl and yap so your messages are appreciated unless you purposely do it hate

: tell me about your day, ask me about mine, tell me about your filthy thoughts about jensen and his characters, tell me about your opinions on my fics, and don't be hateful!

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*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

[deansgirlbaby67]

This weekend I’m going to be beginning some series that I have been dying to write. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to write them but I think I’m going to start writing them first and then posting them once it’s complete so you don’t have to wait long.

Also I’m getting my Patreon ready to launch so a lot of my stuff will be over there early. Along with original work I have created. It’s the only place you’ll be able to read the novel I wrote with the main male character being based on Jensen ;)