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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Always Walk Me Home

Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Pt I

Strawberry Wine Series

Masterlist

Summary: You and Max are keeping things casual. Sooo casual. You can be casual. Right?

Word Count: 4.3k

a/n: Heeeeere we go, his number is in my bio for a reason, it’s my other favorite boy! This one is heavily inspired by some of the prompts on this list. anyways enjoy!

Warnings: alcohol/mild intoxication, mild sexual references, google translated Dutch

Things with Max are… brand new. Everything is still fresh. Everything he does gives you butterflies, makes your heart skip a beat. It’s the honeymoon phase, as everyone calls it.

It’s so brand new that nobody knows. Nothing is… official, yet. You’ve just been on a few dates, had a few movie nights. You’ve stayed at his place a couple times, waking up with his arm around your waist and Jimmy and Sassy curled up next to you. It’s casual. You’re keeping things casual. Max seems content to feel things out, to keep seeing you without labeling it. You’re trying so hard to be casual about it that it’s almost embarrassing.

You feel like everyone sees straight through you. On top of spending time alone together, you and Max are friends, so you see each other at group outings and clubs and dinners with your other friends. Max acts the same there as he always has- kind, courteous, and friendly. You won’t lie, sometimes you wish he’d hold your hand or pull your chair out for you or something, anything to show you that you’re not the only one feeling less than casual. But you’re scared of scaring him away, so you keep your mouth shut.

…..

You’re out to dinner with friends, somehow ending up sitting next to him. It’s nice, really nice. You can smell his cologne, can feel the warmth radiating off of him at the packed table. You have to fight the urge to nudge his foot with yours, to press your knee against his. That wouldn’t be very casual of you. You can do this, you can be normal.

He’s saying something to the person next to him, laughing and leaning towards them. You want to be the reason he’s laughing, want to be in on the jokes. You keep your mouth shut and look at the menu instead.

“What are you going to get?” Max asks.

He’s suddenly in your space. He’s leaning close, his shoulder brushing against yours. Be normal. You shrug, sliding your finger down the menu.

“Probably the shrimp scampi,” you say, pointing at the item.

Max nods. “You love seafood.”

You blink, breath caught in your chest. He’s right, but you didn’t know he knew that. Let alone for him to say it as fact. It’s not like he’s whispering either- someone else could hear. It’s silly, because it’s such a small thing, but you’re overanalyzing everything about it.

“I do,” you agree, turning and smiling at him.

“I remember things,” he says, a soft smile on his face, and now your face is growing hot.

Someone draws his attention away, and you look back to the menu. You nearly yelp in shock when something brushes your knee, but- it’s Max, you realize with a start, his hand searching for something. You hold your breath. His fingers find yours, and he interlaces your hands, palm to palm. He keeps them resting on your leg.

You try to take even breaths. He’s holding your hand in public, with your friends right next to you. Sure, it’s under the table, but this is the most you’ve gotten from him in a setting like this. He’s held your hand on dates, done much more in the privacy of his home, but here it feels overwhelming. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, and you resist the urge to hold on so tightly to him that he can’t let go.

Eventually the food comes, and you both let go so you can eat. But it was nice while it lasted.

…..

Max’s apartment is spacious and cozy, despite the fact that he’s gone from it so often. There’s a warmth here, an aura that just screams Max. His cats roam freely, though while you’re there they have a tendency to follow you around.

“They are traitors,” Max accuses as Jimmy and Sassy weave around your ankles in the kitchen.

“Maybe I’m just better than you,” you say.

“Oh, you are,” he says, sending up a swirl of butterflies in your stomach. “But I feed them. So they are traitors.”

You laugh, leaning down to pet the cats. They nudge their heads against your hands and legs, paw at your socks, and when you walk into the living room, they follow after. Max just watches with disappointment.

By the time he joins you in the living room, drinks in hand, both of them are curled up in your lap. He lets out a huff and sets the drinks on the table. Then he’s nudging at the cats, and you cry out when he pushes them both off your lap.

“Max!” You say, appalled.

He laughs, lays down on the couch, and promptly placed his head exactly where the two cats had been. He stares up at you with a wide grin, eyes squeezed nearly shut.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you answer.

He reaches for one of your hands. He squeezes your fingers softly before bringing your hand up to his hair. You laugh and take the hint, start running your fingers through the blonde strands. He lets his eyes fall shut. Then you watch as he brings his hand up, purses his lips, and points at them.

You take that hint too, lean over and plant a kiss on his lips. When you try to pull away, he wraps a hand around the back of your neck and keeps you there. He deepens the kiss, fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of your neck to hold you there. It’s not the best angle, but it’s nice, always nice to kiss him.

He finally lets you go and collapses back into your lap, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips.

…..

“I can’t open it!” You squeak. “What the fuck, how do they make it look so easy?”

You’re holding a bottle of champagne in your friend’s apartment, trying to get the cork out. It doesn’t help that you’re scared- one too many horror stories about someone getting a cork to the eye, or breaking a window. You huff and try again, gently. No use.

“Lando slams it on the ground,” your friend suggests, her eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, and he also shattered one of Max’s trophies,” you say. “So maybe not the best example.”

You hear familiar laughter, then, and you drop one hand to your side, still holding the bottle in front of you with the other. Max makes his way through the kitchen, a smile on his lips that paints his whole face. You hold it out to him, pouting.

“No, no,” he says. “I’ll show you.”

He wraps his hand around yours, around the bottle. You can’t lie, your mind goes somewhere else for a second, but you tamp those thoughts down and try to focus.

“See, you put this hand on the cork,” he instructs, “and this hand on the bottom.”

His hands are warm over yours. Your face feels hot. Does he feel the sparks when his skin touches yours, too? Or is this normal for him? Is it just a friend helping another friend? You wish you knew, wish he’d say something to quell your worries and calm your racing heart.

“-and then you twist, like this,” he demonstrates.

The bottle hisses, and you jump, but there’s no dramatic pop, no shooting of the cork. You just pull it out, and you stare at the bottle with wide eyes. Oh. That was-

“Easy, right?” He says. “You are already a pro.”

You laugh, shake your head, and hold out the bottle to your friends, standing there with their empty glasses. You want to study their faces, ask them if they noticed anything. You want to ask if they saw the sparks, too. Someone takes the bottle, and your hands fall to your side, the cork still between your fingers.

Your knuckles brush against something- when you look, it’s Max’s hand. He’s still standing there, watching as everyone passes the bottle around. You swallow tightly, bump your hand into his. Deliberately. You want to look up at his face, want to gauge his reaction, but you resist the urge.

Max reaches his pinky out and hooks it with yours. For just a moment, standing in the kitchen, surrounded by your friends, you’re linked. The sparks run from his finger, up your wrist and arm and straight to your heart. Your chest fizzes like the champagne, bubbly and overflowing.

…..

You weren’t even planning on seeing Max tonight. It’s a girls night, one that’s been suggested over and over, each of you being too busy to make it happen until tonight. You’re at your favorite bar, bass thudding in your chest, your friends all around you.

And then, there’s a tingling feeling in your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Someone is watching you. You turn over your shoulder and lock eyes with Max.

He’s leaning against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other. He has a black t-shirt on that’s always been one of your favorites- it hugs his upper arms and his chest so perfectly. He’s watching you, a soft smirk on his lips, a drink in his hand. Everyone is moving around you, but you’re stuck on him.

You smile, wave, and force yourself to turn back to your friends. You like him, you want to spend time with him, but you’ve been neglecting your friendships because of it. Your friends have been teasing you all night about how you’ve been too busy, how you keep checking your phone, how there must be a guy. You’ve denied it at every turn. You can’t leave them now. Ditching your friends for the guy who isn’t even your boyfriend would be the opposite of casual. You force yourself not to look at him, but you swear you can still feel him staring.

Ten minutes later, a bartender appears with a tray of shots and lime wedges. “For you,” she says, pointing at you, and your friends squeal in excitement. She points behind you, then. “From him.”

You turn over your shoulder again. Max is watching, and waving this time. You laugh and wave back, and your friends all do the same. He’s far away, too far to make it in time as you each grab a shot and throw them back in unison. You put the lime between your lips and turn to look at him again, raising your brows. He laughs, eyes lit up so bright you can see the blue even across the room, you swear. Then he juts his chin in the direction of the hallway when nobody else is looking. A message just for you.

You find him out there ten minutes later, trying not to make it obvious and taking the time to come up with an excuse- you fake a phone call. The hall is empty when you walk out, and you wonder if he’s given up on you- you know you saw him walk out. Then he pops his head out from around a corner and waves you over frantically.

He’s leaning against the wall, the same way he was in the club. You stand against the wall on the other side of the hallway and stare at him.

“I’m not leaving right now,” you say. “I promised I’d stay out late.”

“I know,” he says. “Just wanted to see you.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? Seeing me across the bar wasn’t enough?”

The tequila running in your veins has you feeling braver than usual. It doesn’t seem to scare Max. He just grins wider, brow quirked.

“No, it wasn’t,” he says. “You’re pretty from far away, but even prettier up close.”

Your face feels hot. He pushes off from the wall, leans towards you. He could box you in if he wanted, could pin you right there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes your hand in his and pulls you away from the wall, too. The kiss he sweeps you into is sweet. He wraps his arm around you, and you sling yours around the back of his neck. One of his hands cradles the side of your face as he deepens the kiss. Out of all of it, you’re much more focused on the feeling of his thumb on your cheek than the feeling of his lips on yours. It’s strangely intimate, strangely soft, the way he holds you as he kisses you in the hallway of a bar. The way his nose nudges against your cheek, the way he pulls you closer and closer like he can’t get enough.

He pulls away, leaves you gasping for air.

“You taste like lime,” he says.

You nod, dumbfounded.

“You should go back to your friends,” he suggests, kissing your temple. “If I keep kissing you I won’t want to let you go.”

You breathe out a laugh and slap his shoulder. “If you keep staring at me in the club I won’t be able to focus on anything else.”

He laughs. “I know,” he says. “That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you’re fun to watch.”

…..

Three days later, Max is holding your purse. He’d taken it from you when you were all standing in the lobby of the restaurant and your friend dragged you into the bathroom. He’d promised to keep it safe. Now you’re back, your friends are gathering their things and saying goodbyes, getting ready to go home. You’re watching him.

The little black bag looks even smaller in his hands. His fingers are wrapped around the clutch, thumb rubbing back and forth across one of the stitches the same way it had on your skin the night before. He’s talking to someone else, but when there’s a break in the conversation, you nudge him.

“I can take that back,” you say, holding your hand out.

He tilts his head, blinks softly. “That’s okay. I’ll carry it.”

You’re sure you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. “Okay, but I’m leaving, so I need my purse.”

He nods. “I thought maybe I could walk you home. If you wanted.”

You nod in response, feeling a bit dumbfounded. The two of you exit the restaurant, waving goodbye to your friends. He takes your hand the second you’re outside, your purse still in his other one. Your fingers knit together like second nature, now. You could predict the pattern of the brush of his thumb against your skin like clockwork.

Your apartment isn’t far, but you find yourself walking slow on purpose, prolonging the moment. You pass people on the street and you know that to them, the two of you look like a real, actual couple. It’s nice to pretend. You lean into his shoulder, and he stumbles and laughs and keeps both of you upright. The two of you talk the whole way there, about everything and nothing and all the stuff in between.

When you reach the apartment building, he finally holds your purse out to you. You open the clutch, digging through it to find your keys and the front door access card. He watches in amusement as your fingers fumble through the bag.

“D’you wanna come up?” You ask. “I have some of that wine you like.”

You pull the card triumphantly from your bag. You look up at him, and he’s smiling softly, something sparkling in his eyes that makes your breath hitch. Makes the champagne bubble in your chest all over again.

“That’s okay,” he says, softly. “I’ve got to get back to the cats. But can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You blink, card still pinched between your fingers. “Yeah, sure.”

He tilts his head at you. “Maybe brunch. You are going to need sleep. How about you text me when you wake up and we’ll go from there?”

You nod. He nods back. Then he reaches up, cups the side of your face in his hand. He’s so gentle about it, more so than he normally is. When he presses his lips to yours, he tastes like gin and he kisses like… like he cares for you. Like this isn’t leading somewhere else, like he’s not going to pull you into his lap and start trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses you just to kiss you, just to say goodnight.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says when he pulls away. “Goodnight, liefje.”

You smile up at him. “Goodnight, Max.”

He smiles back. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to your forehead softly. You swear you’re melting into the sidewalk. You must be a puddle under his feet. You want to press yourself into his chest, tell him to wrap his arms around you, ask him to never let you go.

But you’re trying so hard to be so good at being casual, so you kiss his cheek, turn around, and walk inside. You take the elevator up, leaning against the wall and covering your giddy smile with your hand. When you get into your apartment, kick off your heels, and drop your bag on the counter, your phone buzzes. It’s a call. You look at the screen and see Max’s face.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Did you get in alright?” He asks.

Your heart squeezes fiercely in your chest. He sounds so soft, asking it. You walk over to the window, peel back the curtains, hoping you’re right about what you think you’ll see. There he is, still standing in front of the entrance, phone to his ear. He’s staring up at your window. When he sees you, he waves.

“Yeah,” you say. “You didn’t have to wait, you know.”

But I’m so glad you did.

“Yes I did,” he says, voice soft and scratchy from the night out. “Had to make sure you were safe.”

“Okay,” you breathe. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“I will,” he says. You watch as he waves again, smiling up at you. “Goodnight.”

…..

He picks you up for brunch the next day. By the time you’re in his car, it’s nearly 10:30. He drives with his hand on your knee, like always, fingers dancing across your exposed skin below the hem of your sundress. You like watching him drive, like being here with him. He pulls up to the restaurant and runs around to open your door for you, leaving you laughing. He hands the keys to the valet. Then he slips his arm around your waist and leads you inside.

You’ve been on dates with him, but none this fancy, none where you feel a little out of your element. Max seems comfortable, though- it’s moments like these where you’re reminded he’s not just your-friend-Max. He’s F1-world-champion-Max-Verstappen. Of course he can get a reservation here with such short notice. They’re honored to have him here.

A waiter leads you to a booth in the back. The restaurant is bright and airy, fresh flowers on every table. Max asks for a pitcher of water and orange juice before the waiter leaves. He pulls your chair out for you, pushes it in when you sit down. Your palms are sweating, heart beating rapidly. It’s just- this is the closest you’ve come to feeling like you’re actually dating him. Suddenly, it’s terrifying.

You ask him what’s good on the menu. He points out his favorites- the French toast, the eggs Benedict, the omelettes. He tells you he’s going to order a fruit sampler for the two of you to share, and you smile softly.

“They always have the best strawberries,” he tells you, eyes lit up. “You love strawberries.”

“I do,” you tell him, warmth filling your cheeks. “You do too.”

You’d bonded over that, when you first became friends. A strawberry wine that nobody else wanted to drink. Too sweet. You’d split the bottle with Max and went to bed with a sugar rush, your lips still tasting like strawberry. Ever since, for every special occasion, the two of you have gifted each other that same strawberry wine. It’s a running joke, among your friends- you’ll open the bottle, ask if anyone wants a glass. They’ll ignore you, but Max will come running.

He opens his mouth to say something, but over his shoulder, you spot something that makes your blood run cold.

“Shit,” you mutter.

He looks at you in concern. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just-“ you sigh. “Your coworker is here.”

Charles Leclerc has just walked in the door, a girl on his arm. The waiter is pointing in your general direction, towards an open table a little ways away. There goes your whole morning. He’s going to want to leave now.

Max turns to look, brows raised. “Oh. At least it’s one I like.”

You can’t help the laugh. “Should we go?”

Max turns back to you, perplexed. “What, get up to say hi? I don’t like him that much. He’ll come over here when he sees us.”

Us. You wish he meant it how you want him to.

“No, like-“ you sigh, gaze flickering down to the table. “You don’t want people to know, so-“

“What?” He asks, wide eyed. “What do you mean, I don’t want-“

“You didn’t want to tell anyone,” you say, quietly. You can’t look at him. “We haven’t even really talked about this, and… I figured you…”

You trail off, because you can feel him staring at you. He reaches over and tucks his finger under your chin. He tilts your face upwards towards his. His gaze is soft, a small smile on his face.

“Schatje, you have to be joking,” he says, and you stare back at him. “Of course I want to tell people. I have wanted to tell the whole world since I kissed you the first time.”

You blink. “But you- you didn’t want to put a label on it. You never…”

“We never talked about it,” he says. “I was giving you time. I’m a lot. Dating me is a lot. You are… I was following your lead.”

“Oh my god,” you blurt out, a giddy feeling in your chest. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb.”

The two of you just stare at each other for a moment. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile spreading across his whole face. You’re so done being casual.

Charles appears at the end of your table seconds later, smiling at the two of you. “Max, hi, good to see you. And I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” he adds, turning to you.

“Charles, this is my girlfriend,” Max says, reaching across the table to take your hand.

When you greet Charles, you can’t wipe the giddy grin from your face. It stays there the whole rest of the day- through breakfast, through a walk through a park, through a late lunch at Max’s with the cats winding around your ankles. Every time it starts to fade you think of Max, bright blue eyes, his finger under your chin. You fall asleep still smiling. You’re pretty sure it’ll be there when you wake up.

…..

The next time you go out with your friends, Max carries your bag the whole night. He also keeps his hand on the small of your back nearly constantly. He orders and pays for all of your drinks, includes you in all the conversations, and brushes his lips against your temple every time there’s a lull in the talking.

Nobody questions it. None of your friends even bat an eye. You find out why when you end up in the bathroom with the girls, a tradition as old as time itself.

It turns out they all already knew.

“Max told us all the day after he kissed you the first time,” someone tells you. “And then he told us we all had to act like nothing was different, because he didn’t want to scare you off.”

You collapse into a fit of laughter, bracing yourself against the sink. All this time, you were worried about it, and he’d told everyone right away. You’d thought you were the one struggling to be casual. God, you’d have saved yourself so much trouble if you’d only asked. If you’d only told him straightforward what you wanted. If you’d only been up front.

You’re giddy with it, then. You can feel it coursing through your veins and buzzing in your fingertips. You won’t call it love yet, at least not out loud. It’s too soon, right? It can’t be love. But it’s something, and now you want him next to you. You want his lips on yours again. You’re missing him even though he’s just through the door, waiting for you, your bag in his hand.

When you return to his side, you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek. You watch his smile grow and his cheeks turn red. You place your hand on his shoulder and put your lips against his ear.

“You should take me home,” you tell him.

His cheeks get even redder, and he turns to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “You’ll walk me home, right?”

“Always,” he agrees.

He takes your hand, squeezes lightly. You feel like you’re glowing brighter than the neon lights above your head.

…..

You slip up over your morning cup of coffee three days later. The cats are in your lap. There’s the perfect amount of cream and sugar in the mug, he’s made it exactly right. The sun is shining through the windows, bouncing off his hair and painting his skin in golden light. You weren’t going to say it out loud, you really weren’t, but it slips past your lips anyways.

“I love you,” you say.

Max laughs, takes the mug from your hands, and kisses you.

Then he says it right back.

read the prequel/ sequel, Someone Sane

okay, now I’ve got my three favorite boys in the masterlist! thanks for reading! come say hi, or check out more of my writing here. drop an ask or a dm to be added to the tag list!

taglist: @4-mula1

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fic #formula one fic #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #max Verstappen #fanfic #max verstappen fluff #fluff #honeywrites #mv1 #strawberry wine verse

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xanjero · 2 years

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#Google #Google Docs #Google Drawings #Google Drive #Google Sheets #Google Slides #malicious links #phishing #privacy #security

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samandcolbyownme · 3 months

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Summary: anon request - "hear me out ok .. ok what if reader was getting a tattoo and JAKE is the person who does the tattoos??????"

Warnings: TW needles, getting tattooed, male tattooing female reader, mentions of being in pain and smoking, mainly fluff

Word Count: 5.5K | kind of edited

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

"Hello?"

"Hey y/n, it's Corey from Emblem One."

You smile, "oh hey. What's up, Corey?" You sit up and listen to him, " So, Vienna isn't going to be in today, she's got a bad, and I mean bad case of the flu."

You pout slightly, "Oh. Thats too bad. I hope she feels better soon."

"Yeah, me too. I just got done rescheduling her appointments today.. she was booked and busy so it's.. been a day so far." He laughs slightly, "But I know you trust the rest of us, and I was going down over our other appointments and Jake has an earlier opening if you want it."

"Is he the one you were talking about bringing in a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, that's him. He does pretty sick work, if I do say so myself, but you know that if I didn't think he could do your tattoos, I wouldn't recommend him." Corey chuckles slightly, "I know it's a sternum tattoo, so if you're no-"

"Put me in." You say quickly, "I need tattoo therapy Corey. I can't wait any longer." You laugh and he clicks his tongue, "You got it."

He pauses for a second, "So instead of coming in at six like you were supposed to with V, he can get you in at two thirty. That sound okay?"

"That's absolutely perfect. Thank you so much for calling me."

"Anytime. See you in a little."

"Yep, bye." You hang up, checking the time before getting up to go shower.

You were getting a chest piece done, a floral setting under your boobs with a vine that goes in between them.

You were actually kind of nervous for this one, well.. it wouldn't be as bad if you hadn't let google and all of its pain scale ratings deter your feelings about it.

You tried not to think about it by going to the shops page, looking to see if they posted an introduction to Jake.

They did, and wow is he ever pretty.

You bite your lip, reading down over the basic info that's listed below his picture.

Emblem One would like to introduce our newest artist, Jake Webber. Jake has been tattooing for a few years and he is absolutely incredible. You can swipe to see a few of the pieces that he's done so far, and if you would like to schedule an appointment with Jake, please call the shop and we'll get you set up.

You raise your eyebrows as you swipe through the attached pictures, "Wow." You shake your head, Corey was right, his work is pretty sick.

You find yourself in the comments, and to no surprise, you're reading stuff that definitely should have stayed in the keyboard.

User1: I have no tattoos, but now I want one that will take hours

User2: I have a few openings that I can definitely schedule you in to fill.

User3: I'd leave a wet spot on the table, he's so hot

"People have no chill." You roll your eyes, laughing slightly as you double tap the picture to like it before getting in the shower.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You push the door to the tattoo shop open, walking in as you give Corey a smile, "Hey."

He stands up, "What's up, y/n?"

You shake your head, closing the door behind you, "Nothing really, about to get a tattoo." You laugh slightly and he chuckles, "You don't say."

He slides the paper for you to sign, "Are you nervous?"

You sign your name and shrug, "I know it's going to hurt, but I'm so excited for it."

He chuckles and nods, "Yeah, I don't really think it's going to tickle." He nods to the back, "I'll go tell Jake you're here."

He walks back, leaving you alone in the small lobby that you're very familiar with. You walk over, looking at the different paintings and drawings that are on the walls.

You've seen them a bunch of times but they always amaze you.

"Y/n."

You turn, seeing Jake standing there and your eyes move up to meet his - wow, he's a lot taller in person.

You smile, "Yes, hi." You walk over to him, "You must be Jake."

He extends his hand out, "That would be me."

You lay your hand in his and it feels like fireworks are going off inside of your stomach.

"So if you're ready.." he nods towards the door, hand still holding yours, "You can follow me this way."

You nod, blinking a few times as you smile, "Yes. I am more than ready." You slip your hand from his and he gives you a little smirk before walking back the hall.

You follow him back, saying hi to the other artists that are there today.

"You're popular here aren't you?" Jake jokes and you laugh, "I've known Corey since, middle school, I think."

"So you're friends with the owner, how sick is that?" Jake sits down on his stool and you nod, "It has its perks."

You sit your bag down on the extra chair in the corner and shrug your jacket off. You turn around letting out a quiet, but loud enough to catch Jake's attention, "shit."

"Everything okay?" Jake looks up from getting everything set up and you nod, "Yeah, well. I mean no. I wanted to bring an extra shirt with me, just so I didn't get ink all over this one, and I forgot it."

"I have an extra one if you want it." Jake offers and you raise your brows, "Do you really?"

He nods, getting up from his stool, "It's in my car, but I can go out and grab it quick."

"Are you sure?" You tilt your head, "I don't want to be a hassle. I know you have other appointments later."

He shakes his head, "Nah, just one. But that isn't until six or something, so we have plenty of time." He grabs his keys and points to the door, "I'll be right back."

"Thank you!" You say as he walks out. You turn, digging your phone from your bag and bringing it up to text your best friend, I got rescheduled so I'm here at the shop now. Corey put me with the new guy they hired and oh my gosh is he a sweetheart, and oh, he is sooo pretty, too. Go to Emblem One on IG and look. It's their new artist. Jake.

Just as you get done, basically fan girling about Jake, he walks back in, "Here you are."

You take the shirt from his hand and smile, "You are a lifesaver, Jake. Thank you."

He bats the air, "Oh shucks." He laughs slightly and walks towards the door, "I'm going to let you get comfortable, I'll be back in a few."

You watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him.

You take off your shirt off, followed by your bra before slipping on his shirt. Your eyes scan over the black walls, moving over the long mirror hung horizontally against it.

You walk over to the mirror, spending the last few minutes alone trying to figure out how you were going to keep yourself covered while he tattoos.

As you're moving the shirt around, there's a knock on the door and you quickly pull it down, "Come in."

The door opens and Jake walks in, "Comfy cozy?"

You laugh slightly, moving to sit back on the table, "As much as I can get."

"Is there anything else I can do for you before we get started?" He sits down, turning to look at you with a smile.

You tilt your head, "It's more or less how I'm going to stay covered up, I don't want anyone uncomfortable. I seen other shops have hospital gowns that they have people put on backwards.."

He smirks slightly, "I was actually thinking about that out there and, I don't have a hospital gown, but what I can do, is cut the shirt up the middle and then tape it down so you're covered."

"I don't want you ruining your shirt, Jake." You shake your head slightly and he shrugs, "That's an old shirt anyway. I won't miss it."

"Are you sure?" You ask and he smiles as he grabs the scissors, "So. Are we doing this?"

You laugh, moving to stand up, "I guess we are."

He rolls over, pinching the hem of the shirt with his fingers before gliding the scissors upward. You lay your hands on your boobs to keep them covered and your breath hitches quietly as the cool air hits your skin.

"Let me grab the tape."

You nod as you watch him wheel over, grabbing the white tape before coming back over. He look up at you, "If you feel uncomfortable at anytime and need or want me to stop, please tell me."

"You're fine, Jake." You smile.

That wasn't a lie, you were, oddly enough, more comfortable with him than you were with any of your actual guy friends.

"I'm just saying. I don't want you writing a bad yelp review." He tries not to laugh but fails which causes you to laugh, "Oh yeah, I'm going to totally go home after this and write the worst review ever."

"Maybe that'll make the girls in the instagram comments stay away." He snickers as he shakes his head while taping down the shirt to your skin.

"You saw them?" You drop your hands and he look up with a nod, "Oh yeah." He rolls his eyes and sighs, "But I seen you liked it, so thanks for that."

You can feel your cheeks heating as he pushes himself back, "Oh, that. Yeah, i was just.. showing love to my favorite tattoo shop, you know."

Way to play it cool, y/n, you mentally slap yourself as you sit down on the table again.

He chuckles, "No I appreciate that. I know being a new artist to some is kind of scary, but Corey said he would hype me up and it obviously worked, since you're sitting on my table."

You laugh, "he did. Don't worry. He said your art was sick and I have to agree with him. You do some good work, Jake."

He smiles as he holds up a fresh, unopened needle, "Steril, clean." He brings it down to open it up, "Thank you. I appreciate getting that confirmed." He chuckles as he puts everything together.

You make small talk while he gets the stencil ready, asking where you're both from, what you do for work, this and that.

"alright, if you would come stand in front of me." He points with his pinky to the floor in front of him. You walk over to him and he rubs soap onto your skin before shaving the spot the stencil is going to be.

You look in the mirror, watching Jake as he works to get you ready.

"I'm actually nervous about this. I heard this spot hurt."

He smirks, "everyone is different, you know pain tolerance and all, but considering you have a few others, I think you'll be fine. If you need to take a break or two, or five.." he laughs slightly, "Just let me know."

You nod, "Sounds good."

He applies a thin layer of the stencil solution to your skin before turning around to pick up the thin layer of paper, "Alright. Nice and straight and stay as still as you can for me."

You let your hands hang by your sides as you try to control your breathing. You glance in the mirror, watching as Jake smooths out the stencil over your sternum and under your boobs.

"I think, this is going to be a sick ass tattoo." Jake leans back, letting the stencil sit for a few seconds before gently peeling it off, "take a look at that, let me know if you need it moved or anything."

He watches as you turn to look at the stencil in the mirror. You nod, "That's good. I like where it's at."

He nods, "Then we'll let that dry for a few minutes then I guess we'll get right into it." He smiles as he turns away to pour the ink into the little cups.

"I know your post said you've been tattooing for a while, but I'm nosey, so how long is a while exactly?" You sit back down, making sure to keep your body as straight as you can.

He laughs slightly, "Well, if you must know." He glances at you with a smirk, "I was an apprentice for about two years then I worked with an artist in the city for a little bit until I got a call from Corey."

"Did Corey find you on Instagram?" You reach up to run your hand through your hair and Jake laughs, "No, actually. My friend Sam got him in touch with me."

You blink, "Wait. Sam.. what's his last name?"

"Golbach."

"Shut up."

"I'm confused." Jake laughs and you shake your head, "No, no. I know Sam."

"Really? No fuckin' way." Jake's mouth drops open, "How do you know Sam?"

"My family knows his family. Ever since we were little." You shake your head, "That's crazy. Maybe it is a small world after all."

"Yeah, yeah." He smiles, "It sure is."

You smile and after a few seconds of silence, he points, "I'm going to check your stencil if that's okay."

"Oh no." You push your chest out, "Go ahead."

He walks up, gently rubbing his finger over the end part and nods, "Ready?"

You take a deep breath, "I guess so." You laugh as you swing your legs up, lying back on the table. Jake sits down, wheeling himself and the cart over.

You hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun and you take a deep breath. Jake applies a thin layer of Vaseline over the stencil, "Alright. If you need a break at all, let me know."

"Alright." You nod, taking in a deep breath before he anchors your skin down to start.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Halfway through the tattoo, you opted for a break.

Jake takes your hand, helping you sit up. You swing your legs over the edge of the table, "Thank you."

He nods, taking off his gloves before shrugging off his jean jacket, revealing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

"I like your tattoos." You smile as your eyes move over his tatted skin. He smiles, "Thanks. I'm kind of an addict when it comes to them."

"Tattoos are hot, so it's okay." You smirk at him as you get up to look into the mirror. He walks up behind you, "Yeah, they really are." His eyes move from your half finished tattoo to your eyes and his lips form into a smirk before he turns away.

"Do you care if I go out and have a smoke real quick?"

You shake your head, "Nope. You're good." You smile at him, "Take your time."

"So sweet." He smiles and pulls the pack from his jacket pocket, "I don't know if you smoke, but I'd feel like it would be rude of me not to offer you one."

You laugh and shake your head, "I only smoke when I'm drinking, or drunk, I should say."

"Nothing wrong with a drink and smoke." He smiles and puts a cigarette between his lips, "I'll be back."

You nod, bending down to get your phone out so you can snap a picture of your tattoo progress. You laugh when you read over the text from your friend, oh my god. He is absolutely beautiful. You're letting him see your tits? Lucky day for both of you lol

You roll your eyes, taking a picture of your current state, He gave me his shirt and cut it so he could keep me covered. He's honestly very respectful, but we're halfway done. I'll send you a picture when it's all done.

You walk back over and toss your phone in your bag before going back to sit on the table. As you sit and wait for Jake, you can't help but think about how you feel like you've known Jake for years.

You clicked with him, so fast that it was actually kind of scary.

"I brought you a water." Jake says as he rounds the corner into the room. You look up, smiling as you take it, "Thank you so much."

You open it, taking a sip before lifting your legs to rest them on the table, "How was your smoke?"

He nods, "It was alright." He laughs as he grabs new gloves, "Don't worry, I washed my hands when I came in."

"No worries, I trust you." You smile, watching as he pulls the black gloves over his hands.

He had nice hands. Very. Nice hands.

"Are you ready to start again?" Jake snaps you out of your stare and you smile, "Yes. Yes I am." You lay back on the table as look over at Jake, "So is this your first sternum piece?"

He looks up at you, "Mm, not really. I did a touch up on one other, but her boyfriend stared me down the whole time."

"Oh I bet that was awkward." You stare up at the ceiling, "I hate that. I hate people in general."

Jake chuckles before he starts tattooing, "I totally get what you mean."

"Oh, I don't hate you. I hope you didn't ta-"

He cuts you off, "Not at all. Not at all." He smiles as he continues, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you have beautiful skin."

You bite down on your lip, smiling as you feel your cheeks turning red, "Thank you? I think."

He leans back, wiping your skin, "I meant that as a compliment, sorry if it didn't sound like one."

"No, no. It did. I just.. never got that compliment before."

"Really?" He shakes his head, "People are missing out to see you smile, then." He glances up at you, and you can tell that he's just as comfortable with you as you are with him.

You didn't really believe in love at first site stuff, but you did believe in that click, and that click is what you have with him.

"Alright, now this part might hurt a lot more than the bottom piece, so if you need another break, just tell me."

You give him a nod, biting down on your lip as he starts the vine that's between your boobs.

"Oh.. gosh.." you take calming breathes as he was right, it does hurt, "you were right."

You close your eyes, trying to think of something else and Jake helps with that.

"Have you lived here long?"

"Kind of." You say instantly, "I've been here a few years. I actually only live a few streets over in the Green Ridge apartment building."

"Nice, nice." Jake wipes away and gives you a little breather, "Do you have any pets?"

"I have a cat." You laugh slightly, "I would love a dog, but my building doesn't have the grass around it for them to go out, you know."

"Oh man. Of course not. What's your cat's name?"

You laugh slightly, "Um. It's mystic. He's a fluffy grey cat and I got the name from The Vampire Diaries." You wince slightly as you feel the needle piercing your skin, "I'll show you a picture when we're done."

"I would love to see it." He smiles as he moves onto the next part, "I don't have any pets. Mainly because I spend most of my time in the shop, whether it's drawings or tattooing, I just like being here."

"Did you draw that moon phase picture above the mirror?" Your eyes move to the frame and back to him, "Yeah I did." He looks up at you with a smile, "it wasn't easy, took me forever but I finally finished it."

"Do you.. think you can draw me a flower piece that connects to the top of this one?"

He nods, "I'd be honored."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Two hours of talking and tattooing later, Jake is up by your shoulder, leaning over you to finish the top of your tattoo, "We are almost done, sweetheart."

The cute little pet name makes your stomach flip and your cheeks turn pink, "Okay." You say quietly with a smile, "I'm so excited to see it."

"I may be biased, since I'm the one who's doing it, but it's so pretty." He nods, "I like it."

"I'm sure I will too."

"If you don't like it, you can tell me. I promise I'll wait to cry until you leave." He laughs and turns to get more ink.

"I don't think you'll need to cry. From what I already saw, I'm in love with it already." You smile at him and he nods, "I'm glad."

His arm lays over your shoulder, resting under your chin. You close your eyes, feeling the vibrations move through his arm and before you know it.

You're done.

Jake leans back, "Well.." he wipes off your skin, "we're done."

"Already?" You smirk, "That didn't even take long."

He laughs as he helps you sit up, your hand in his and his other on the center of your back, "Take a look."

You glance down before sliding off the table. You walk over to the mirror and your jaw drops, "Oh my god."

"Go easy on me, I'm sensitive." He holds his hands up and laughs.

"No, Jake. This is .. this is beautiful." You turn back to look at it more, "By far my favorite tattoo."

"I'm glad you love it. I love it too." He sprays a paper towel and sits down, "I'm just going to wipe it off some more then take a picture if you don't mind?"

You turn to face him, "I don't mind." You smile as you step towards him, feeling that relief as he wipes over the completed tattoo. (A/n: if you ever had a tattoo, you know exactly what I'm talking about.)

He rests his hand on your hip as his eyes move over the tattoo, wiping it in different spots, "Beautiful."

You look down at him and he smirks, "That tattoo looks pretty good, too." He winks before turning to grab his phone.

Okay, so there's something there. You weren’t imagining it.

You take a deep breath, licking your lips as you turn to look at it in the mirror again, admiring his work.

"Alright." Jake says, "Ready when you are."

You turn back to him, standing up as straight as possible as he snaps a few pictures.

"Got them. I'll probably post it later if you're okay with that?" He looks up at you and you nod, "Whatever you want to do. I'm covered."

"I definitely wouldn't post them if you weren't." He chuckles and points, "Do you want me to take that tape off or did you want to do it at home?"

"You can take it off and I'll just wrap the shirt over and we can slap a new piece on if that'll work?" You motion to pulling the shirt over and he nods, "oh yeah, that will totally work. Do you want me to cover it?"

"Oh yes. Please." You nod and he gives you a thumbs up before turning around to grab some Saniderm. He holds up the piece, "I think that'll be good for the bottom, I'll cut a skinnier piece for the vine part."

You nod, letting him do whatever he needs to do.

He runs his hands over the clear covering and then moves to take the tape off, "If you wanted to grab this side, I'll go ahead and work at getting these pieces off."

"Okay." You hold the side against you as he peels each piece of tape off on the other side before you hold that side of the shirt against you.

You pull the shirt over, holding it there until he grabs a new piece, "Thank you again, for the shirt, for cutting your shirt, and for doing all of this."

"It's not a problem at all, y/n." He smiles as he rubs the piece of tape to stick to the fabric, "Thank you for allowing me to do this."

"Corey said you were good, I just wanted to see how good." You smile and step back. He smiles, "Well I appreciate your curiosity getting the best of you."

"Of course." You nod and go over to grab your jacket, slipping it on before grabbing your bag, "Do you want me to meet you out front then?"

He nods, "Yeah that'll be good."

"Okay." You walk out to the front and Corey looks up, "Well, I see you're alive. How was it?"

"Painful. But.. worth it." You laugh and rest your bag on the counter, "You have a good artist back there."

He tilts his head, "Good as in he does good work, or good as in you like him?" He smirks and you shrug, "Is it okay to say both?"

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, "I guess." His eyes move behind you as Jake walks out. He moves behind you and around to stand next to Corey.

You hand him the money the amount for the tattoo and he squints his eyes, "How much did you and Vienna agree on?"

"Three fifty." You say and Jake laughs, "I'll take two."

You sigh, "then I'm leaving you a big tip."

He chuckles and Corey looks between the two of you, "I have to go.. check on something.. I think." He laughs as he walks away, leaving you and Jake at the desk.

"I'm not leaving until you take it." You rest it down on the counter and Jake sighs, "You're persistent."

"I like to show my appreciation." You smirk and he picks up the cash, "Fine." He smirks and sets it down on the desk, "Are we looking at scheduling another?"

"Is that even a question?" You laugh and Jake sighs, "Yeah, a dumb question." He laughs and looks at his schedule, "When did you want to come back in? For the shoulder connecting piece, right?"

You nod, "Um, we can do like two, three weeks? That should give you enough time to draw it up for me."

"Okay." He bends down, clicking on the computer, "Does the twenty first sound good?"

"That's perfect." You smile and watch as he writes down the date on an appointment card. He hands it to you and right when he's about to say something else, the door opens and you both look over.

A guy walks in, smiling at both of you.

"Hey Matt, I'll be right with you." Jake nods to him and looks back at you. You sigh, "Thanks again, Jake. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime."

And with that, you leave the shop, mentally beating yourself up that you didn't ask him out.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

A few days later

The last few days have been painful and irritating as you can't really sleep comfortably yet.

So it's two am, you're wide awake, and your phone goes off.

Who could that be, you think as you sit up, leaning over to grab it.

Hey, y/n. It's Jake. I'm so sorry that it's so late but I cannot stop thinking about you.

Your mouth drops slightly as you feel an excited rush roll over your body. You smile, biting your lip as your thumbs quickly tap the screen, Hi Jake. I'm glad to see that we both feel the same way.

You clutch your phone, anxiously awaiting his response.

Okay, wow. This is embarrassing. I honestly didn't expect you to be awake, but then again I'm glad you are. I wanted to ask you out at the shop the other day but I was so fucking nervous.

You giggle slightly, happy that you finally got the message you were waiting for, or waiting for the courage to send.

You tap the screen biting down on your lip as you send the message, You're literally taking the words right out of my mouth. I was so nervous, too.

You see the bubbles pop up, disappear, and then pop up again before he finally sends his message, This might be a long shot, but what are you doing right now?

You look at your screen confused but you answer, I can't sleep so I'm just lying in bed wide awake.

He answers, almost instantly, Do you want to take a drive?

You answer instantly, Yes, please.

You send him your address and he responds, I'll be there in twenty, I'll text you when I'm there.

You kick the blankets off, hurrying over to grab a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt from your closet. You brush your hair, not worrying about anything else before you walk out to your living room to wait.

You were kind of nervous, but at the same time, you were so excited to see him.

Twenty minutes later, your phone lights up and it's a text from Jake, I'm parked out front in the Tesla.

You grab your bag, making sure you have your keys before walking out of the door. You walk down, smiling at his car as you walk towards it.

He smiles at you through the windshield, leaning across the consol to open the door for you.

"Thank you." You say as you get in and shut the door. You turn towards him as you buckle, giving him a quiet, "Hey."

"Hey." He smiles and looks away, "god why am I so nervous?" He laughs and looks back at you. You shrug, "I asked myself that, too. A few times on the way out here."

He smile and shakes his head, "I figured we could stop, get some snacks before we drive around?"

You nod, "That's good with me."

"Okay." He nods and starts driving, "So. I have to ask. Are the lines on your tattoo straight?"

"I think so." You look at him, "Why do you ask?"

"Because.." he laughs, "I had to force myself to not shake."

You laugh slightly, "Aw, Why were you shaking?" He looks over at you, "I started shaking the minute you turned around to look at me in the lobby."

"Well you did a good job at covering it up because I couldn't even tell you were." You smirk and he sighs, "Well that's a relief." He looks over at you, "Tattoo healing okay?"

You nod, "Oh yeah. I took the stuff off two days ago I think?" You look over at him, "Do you want to see it?"

"If you're okay with that." He nods, "I'd love to."

He pulls into the parking lot and you unbuckle, bunching up your sweatshirt to reveal the underboob part of the tattoo, "I love it."

He raises his eyebrows, "That looks so good."

You nod, "It's healing perfectly."

He smiles as he points to the building, "Shall we go get some car ride snacks?"

You nod, "Let's do it."

You get out, walking in with him. You stay close to him, mainly because you're just happy to be with him. You grab some snacks and a drink, making your way up and Jake takes you stuff from your arms to pay.

"You don't have to do that." You say and he looks back at you, "You got out of bed at two in the morning for me, it's the least I could do."

You roll your eyes with a smile and wait for him to grab the bag before you walk out. You get back in the car and Jake looks over at you, staring for a few seconds.

"What?" You ask shyly, "Is there something on my face?" You brush your face and Jake laughs, "No." he sighs, "You are just.. amazing."

He laughs nervously and you smile as you look down, "So are you."

He turns towards you , word vomit spilling out, "I definitely would have asked you out the day you were at the shop, but I didn't want to do it with Matt standing and.. and then I thought that I could wait until your next appointment with me, but I couldn't so I got your number from your client profile and I just.. had to see you sooner."

"I'm glad you did. I was beating myself up over not saying anything." You sigh, "Plus. You're worth getting out of bed at two in the morning for."

He smiles and shakes his head, "That.. is sweet. Thank you."

You laugh, "I'm just glad we feel the same."

"You had me when you first looked at me, but you really got me at I hate everyone." He laughs, "I'm just glad that it wasn't all in my head."

You shake your head, "Nope. It's not."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

As usual, let me know how you liked this. Thank you for reading! Love you all!

Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

#samandcolby-ownme #Jake Webber #Jake Webber one shot #Jake Webber fluff #jake webber one shots #Jake Webber fluff one shot #Jake Webber one shot fluff #jake webber x you #Jake Webber x reader #Jake Webber x reader fluff #Jake Webber fluff one shots #Tattooed With a Side of Love #anon requests #anon request

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lipglossanon · 8 months

Text

December Winds

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

Priest!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

dedicated to you 💀 anon! 💜 I hope you like it!

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, religious connotations, Leon POV, dirty talk, nipple teasing, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (m receiving 🫣), unprotected sex, creampie, kissing, biting, slight blood

kinda beta read by my friend Rex 💜 (only like 80% so any mistakes are my own 😅 )

title from December Winds by Nox Arcana

.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜❅・.・❅.・。.・゜

After Spain, Leon quits. As he tells the president, “I’ve seen enough.” And he meant it. He packs up everything, quietly bids goodbye to the few coworkers he respects and leaves out from Washington DC, praying he’ll never see the place again.

He searches for a job that’s a little less stressful and a lot more reclusive. He stumbles across an online ad looking for a live-in priest for a small rundown chapel buried in the middle of the Appalachian mountains. A quick search on google maps yields the exact results he’s hoping for—there’s nothing around for miles and miles.

It’s a cinch to get ordained online and even easier to order the cassock and Roman collar. He already has plenty of black shirts, pants, and even shoes, meaning it’s no sweat at all for him to look the part by the end of the week.

When he arrives at the small church, there’s a handful of elderly people gathered to give him a short walk through the place. They leave him with plenty of homemade food as well as their phone numbers for the cracked rotary phone in the office in case he needs any help.

The months roll by and slowly bleeds into a couple of years. He always sees the same handful of people at service, sometimes joined by visiting family members, but always a small congregation which is what he prefers. This year hasn’t been any different, that is until a knock rings out in the empty vestibule drawing him up short as he lays out pamphlets for next week's Christmas service.

Pulling open the heavy oak doors, he’s surprised to see a new face. You stand there shivering in the cold, jacketed arms clutching your middle.

“H-hi,” you give him a bright smile despite your chattering teeth, “m-my car’s s-s-stuck in the s-snow and—“

Before you can finish, Leon’s opening the door wider, feeling chill bumps race across his arms as the cold winter air gusts past you and into the church.

“Please, come in,” he steps back so you’ll follow.

Once inside, he shuts and bolts the door closed.

“I’m s-so glad someone’s here,” you laugh.

Leon watches you, expression stoic even though internally he’s cataloging every single thing about you with heavy interest.

He sees your smile tremble a little, your own gaze roving his face.

“I’m s-sorry to bother you,” you rub your hands together for warmth, “if I c-could just make a call, I’ll b-be out of your hair in n-no time.”

You pull your cellphone out with a frown, “I h-haven’t had service in miles.”

Leon glances down at your hands before looking back up into your face, nervousness radiating from your body language.

He turns, talking loud enough for you to hear as you follow behind him, “Phone’s in the office. If you can’t reach anyone, I have a number to a local mechanic who can help tow you out.”

“Thank you so much,” your voice sounds relieved, “I hate bothering you, but I really appreciate the help.”

“Of course, it’s what I’m here for.”

He glances back over his shoulder and sees your gaze wandering around the church, taking in the clean if rough hewn pews and stained glass windows. Your eyes cut to his quickly as if you sensed him watching, giving him a shy smile.

“You have a beautiful church, Mister?”

“Father Kennedy,” he answers, voice a little rougher than intended as you bite your lip in embarrassment.

“Sorry, not really up on my religion,” you laugh a little bashfully, “it’s nice to meet you, Father Kennedy.”

“Likewise,” Leon turns his attention to opening the office door, gesturing for you to enter first.

His eyes slide down your body, taking in your curves, and shaking away the urge to sink his teeth into your soft neck. You walk over to the old rotary phone, something Leon never updated as it still works just fine.

“Oh wow, my grandma had one of these!” you grin at him, “it’s so cute that you kept it for your office.”

That dark urge to bite you flares up in his chest again but he shoves it down. He nods at you instead of saying anything and you turn back to the phone.

Picking up the handset, you frown and click on the dial a few times before setting it back down on the cradle.

“Seems like your phone’s out,” you bite your lip again, looking agitated.

Leon shrugs, “Tends to happen this time of year. No telling when it’ll start working again.”

You nod along and blow out a breath, “Okay, we’ll I’ll head back to the car and see if I can—“

“Stay the night.”

That pulls you up short and he wants to laugh at the wide eyed look you give him.

“Stay here and we can try the phone again. If it doesn’t work, I can walk you to the nearest neighbor and try their phone.”

A soft smile crosses your face and Leon’s hit with an avalanche of impure want purring in his chest.

“Are you sure it’s no trouble? I mean I’d really appreciate it, but I don’t wanna put you out.”

“No trouble, besides I’m here to help those in need,” a crooked grin slips out, “and you seem to fit that description.”

Another shy bite of your lip has him shifting his feet, willing himself not to do anything to you.

“Okay then,” you give him the brightest smile yet, “thank you, Father Kennedy. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

A sudden flash of you thanking him on your knees floods his thoughts and he turns away from you, adjusting his half hard cock through his slacks, never more grateful to wear all black than now.

“Follow me please,” he calls out to you, listening as you quickly walk to catch up.

He also listens as you introduce yourself and explain as to why you’re out here in the first place, basically boiling it down to visiting some family for the holidays. Nodding along, he guides you into his living quarters which just happens to be a bedroom big enough to house a bed and a desk with a few bookshelves.

“It’s so cozy,” you gush, running your hand along some of the handmade quilts and crocheted throws the church parishioners have given him over the years.

“It’s home,” he states simply, moving to the fireplace and stoking the embers into a flame.

“I’m kinda impressed,” you say as you hang up your jacket near the door, “it’s really rare to see someone so young as a priest in these kinds of communities.”

When he only gives you a deadpan expression, you begin to flounder.

“Oh I mean, I grew up near here and so I’m just used to like older— you know what, I just feel like I’m digging a hole for myself,” you drag your palms across your eyes, “it’s just different is all. And either way I'm happy to have met you.”

Leon finally lets his lips quirk up into a half smile, amused at your reactions.

“I understand, it’s just funny to see you try to explain it,” he moves away from the fireplace and grabs a change of clothes, ignoring how your cute pout is making him feel.

“There’s a bathroom just through that door,” he points to his right, your left, “I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans. There’s also some spare toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet.”

He watches as you get flustered when taking the simple sweats and cotton t-shirt.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” you duck your head trying to hide your face and disappear behind the bathroom door to change.

Leon lets out a long breath, trying to ease the tension building up in his chest. The wanting seems to only be getting worse the more time he’s spending with you. It’s like he’s a teenager seeing a skin magazine for the first time.

Has he really been out here that long without seeing a pretty little thing like you? He’s in the midst of his thoughts while removing his collar and unbuttoning his cassock when he hears a soft squeak.

He turns to see your eyes shut tight, hands clenching your bundled up clothes to your chest.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to!”

Leon frowns before looking down to see his bare chest offset by his rosary. Heat washes through him to see you peek again and bite down on your lip hard as you turn away.

“I honestly was on autopilot,” he murmurs, voice rough making him clear his throat, “apologies, I’ll go change in the bathroom while you get settled.”

You gasp as he brushes past you to enter the bathroom. Grabbing onto the sink, Leon stares at his own blown pupils in the mirror.

Get it together. It’s just a woman. A sweet woman. A pretty woman who probably has an equally pretty little cunt—

Shaking his head to clear it, he finishes dressing for bed. As he brushes his teeth, his eyes wander and notice the toothbrush you used sitting off to the side. A sudden flash of possessiveness surprises him leading him to quickly finish up and make his way back into the bedroom.

You startle, standing up from sitting at the edge of the bed.

Hands wringing together, you smile nervously, “Uh I-I wasn’t sure where to sleep? Like I can take the floor—“

He’s shaking his head already interrupting you, “We’ll share the bed. It gets extremely cold at night and it wouldn’t be safe to sleep on the floor.”

You frown over at the bed and look back at him apprehensively, “I can just use the quilts to make a pallet in front of the fire.”

“Please,” he gestures to the bed, “there’s no central heating and it gets deathly cold some nights. Even with the fire, I’d be afraid you would get frostbite.”

“I’ll sleep against the wall,” he softens his voice, “we’ll put pillows between us if you’d like and you can have the edge.”

He watches you bite on that damn lower lip again, wanting it between his own teeth.

Nodding, your eyes seek out his again, “Okay. And we’ll try again first thing in the morning?”

“Of course,” he agrees easily, “I tend to wake early so I can check and wake you if need be.”

Your features melt from concern to thankful, “That’s very sweet of you, Father.”

A hot pulse of arousal makes his dick twitch but Leon ignores it in favor of offering you a slight smile.

“Of course. Shall we?” he nods at the bed.

You climb in after him, settling down under the layers of blankets and quilts.

“I definitely never would’ve guessed I’d start my vacation by sharing a bed with a priest,” you giggle to yourself.

“Unusual to say the least,” he dryly replies, sea dark eyes watching as you turn on your side, back facing him.

You hum softly, shoulders twitching under the shirt and legs swishing under the covers.

“Good night, Father Kennedy,” your soft voice has him gripping the blanket tightly.

“Goodnight.”

It’s driving Leon up the wall with how badly he wants to reach out and touch you. Settling a little more, he listens as your breathing evens out and finds his own eyes slipping shut.

Later in the night, he wakes up to your tossing and turning, feeling you press your ass back against him. He stifles a groan, eyes adjusting to the low light from the fireplace. You keep fidgeting, accidentally rubbing against his chubbed cock until he’s thickening in his sweats. His heavy hand reaches down and grabs you hip, stilling your movement.

“Sorry,” your sleepily mumble, “‘m trying to get comfy.”

He dips his head down to ghost his lips across the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

He rocks forward, letting his bulge rub against your ass; you whine and press back against him harder.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I promise I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry, huh?” he dips his tongue into your ear making you whimper, “are you asking for forgiveness?”

His hand grasps your hip and pulls you into a slow rhythm of grinding back against his stiff cock.

“Oh,” you mewl as he kisses the shell of your ear, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not how you ask,” he chuckles, kissing down your neck, “you know better than that.”

You moan as he bites down on the soft skin that’s been tempting him all this time.

“Forgive me, Father Kennedy,” you break the rhythm and grind back against him harder, “I’m so sorry I’m being so bad. God, can’t believe I’m dry humping a priest.”

A smack lands on your ass making you jump.

“We don’t take the Lord's name in vain either,” his low voice slips into your ear, “for that, you get those cute little nipples pinched.”

As you moan, he rolls you over onto your back, slipping an arm around your shoulders so both of his hands can knead and grope at your breasts.

“Pull your shirt up,” he murmurs in your ear, “be a good girl for me.”

You shove the t-shirt up to pool around your neck, hands settling back down to twist in the sheets. His fingers quickly move to circle and pinch your hard nipples.

“Oh, ohhh,” your eyes squeeze shut as he teases and rubs your hard buds, “Father, please.”

He bites your neck again making you writhe and press your breasts up into his hands.

“Please,” you whimper, eyes glimmering at him in the firelight, bottom lip swollen from your own teeth.

“Who knew such a tempting sinful girl would end up in my church much less my own bed,” he rumbles in your ear, grinding against your hip as he teases your nipples.

“Father Kennedy,” you swipe a soft, pink tongue against your lips, making his teeth ache, “shouldn’t we stop?”

“Do you want to stop?” he kisses your jaw, fingers tweaking your nipples sharply making you moan high in your throat.

“No, no, please, it’s so—you’re so hot,” you whine, hips squirming for friction under the blankets, “please, Father, want you so bad.”

“It’s a sin to tempt a priest,” he trails his lips across your neck to suck another mark into your skin, “you’ll have to repent.”

“H-how?” your eyes flutter, trying valiantly to stay open.

He pulls away with a smirk, “You’ll have to use your body in service to the Lord.”

A keening whimper escapes your lips, hands shakily reaching up to run through his sandy blonde hair.

“I-I’ll do anything,” you scratch your nails along his scalp making him groan, “just show me how I need to repent, Father Kennedy.”

He pulls his arm out from under you so he can climb on top of you, settling in between your thighs. Your hands pull his hair as he sucks a hard nipple into his hot mouth. He ruts against the mattress as he suckles each hard bud, nipping at the soft skin of your breasts and leaving marks everywhere.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a pair of tits in my face,” his voice is low, smoky, and he can feel your legs try to press together only stopped by his bulky body.

He takes his time, kissing the areola before running his tongue over your nipple, letting his teeth softly bite down before sucking it further into his mouth. Your hips buck up against his chest as he lays on top of you. He can feel how wet you’ve gotten already, the soft press of your panties against his skin leaving behind a sticky mess.

He pulls back to look up into your dazed eyes, “Let me taste that wet pussy.”

You moan, hands tensing in his hair, “Y-you want to?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t,” he grins, “besides I wanna clean up that messy cunt with my tongue before you get slick all over my sheets.”

He scoots down, dragging his lips across your tummy and dropping kisses as he goes.

“We’ll keep the blankets pulled up so you don’t get cold,” he murmurs as he bites your hip bone before soothing it with his tongue.

You give him a shaky nod, “Okay, Father.”

He bucks his hips at that, feeling his cock leak in his sweats. He feels as you tug the blankets up and when he looks back up he can barely see your face making this seem so illicit and dirty it’s getting him even harder.

He quickly eases your panties down your legs and tosses them on the outside of the blankets before settling between your legs again. Leon lets his instructive thoughts win and bites bruise after bruise into the dough of your thighs, sucking and worrying the skin until you're squirming against his mouth.

He bites his way up to the crease of your thigh then lets his tongue trail across your skin until he’s lapping at your swollen clit. He hears as you moan loudly, thighs falling open wider as he hungrily licks into your cunt.

“You taste like sin,” he groans as he pulls back to spread your pussy open, “so fucking good.”

Pressing his face tightly against your slick coated lips, he flutters his tongue into your soaked hole and grinds his nose against your bundle of nerves. He slips his tongue in and out of your hole before licking back up to your throbbing clit, softly kissing the sensitive bud again and again until sucking it gently into his mouth.

Sweat beads around his hairline as it grows warmer underneath the layers of covers. Leon mouths at your sloppy cunt until you’re moaning loudly as slick coats his chin and lower jaw. Once your thighs start to tremble, he pulls away and crawls back up your body. The cooler air of the room kissing his sweaty skin as your hands scrabble against his shoulders.

“‘M so close,” you whimper as you tug him into a messy kiss, “wanna cum, please Father.”

He clicks his tongue, “You have to work hard for forgiveness,” he presses his thumb down against your chin making your lips part.

“Maybe we should try filling that mouth up first,” he murmurs, watching as your eyes droop.

You nod, running your hands down his broad chest, “Please, wanna see you, too.”

Surprise crosses his features, but he schools it into a crooked smile, “Aren’t you sweet? Take your shirt off for me while I get undressed.”

In no time, he’s kneeling between your parted thighs, completely nude save for the rosary around his neck. When he goes to slip it off, your hand snaps around his wrist.

He watches as the embarrassment wars with arousal as you ask him to keep wearing it. His dick throbs and kicks against his thigh and your eyes go lidded as they take in his thick cock.

“Allow me to show you how sorry I am, Father,” you scratch your nails across his chest all the way down his toned stomach to a happy trail that leads to the thatch of hair above his cock.

Goosebumps travel across his skin when you rub across his hips bones, breath ghosting across the drippy head of his dick.

Your tongue lathes over the slit, circling his tip and teasing under his foreskin before you pull back.

That shy look steals over your face, “Can you sit here?”

You pat the gap in the pillows in front of the headboard. Leon’s lips quirk in amusement and shifts to sit with his back to the headboard and legs splayed out across the bed. You move to kneel in between his thighs, eyes greedily taking in his stiff cock.

He watches as you lean forward, one hand coming up to grip the base of his cock as the other rests on his thigh, and slowly sucks the head of his dick into your mouth. Your eyes shutter with a moan as you take more and more of his cock into your mouth until you choke.

Pulling off with a gasp, your watery eyes blink open staying on his as you sink back down on his cock. His abdomen tenses and he grabs the back of your neck with his broad palm to guide your head.

“No need to rush,” his eyes track your tongue as you lick and kiss all along his dripping slit.

“You taste so good,” you moan as you lick your way down to his balls.

Leon keeps his gaze on you as your wet mouth sucks his balls into your mouth, whining when you can’t fit both at the same time. You smear your face against the spit slick skin of his squishy sac as you nuzzle and suck his taint.

“Oh, good girl,” he parts his legs wider so your mouth can reach him easier.

Your glazed eyes slide shut when you slip your tongue down further to ghost across his asshole. Tongue drifting lazily against it, Leon grunts when you finally lick into him.

“Such an eager girl,” he rasps as you softly eat him out, tongue eagerly rimming his hole.

You sloppily makeout with his hole as his cock weeps precum everywhere; his own heavy hands keep your face buried between his cheeks.

When you finally pull back, your chin’s coated with spit.

“Suck my cock a little more and I’ll fill up that needy cunt,” he pulls your swollen mouth to the weeping head.

Whining, you easily follow along and let his thick cock sink back into your mouth. He luxuriates in the feeling, the feeling of your hot hungry mouth slurping loudly around his dick. You moan and whine around him, rubbing your thighs together for friction. He smirks to see you acting so needy, so obedient in servicing him.

“Up,” he murmurs, grabbing your neck and pulling you off of his cock.

Your hands reach out to dig into his pecs, framing the rosary between your hands as you straddle his lap, his cock snugly pressing against your pussy.

“Oh, Father, please,” you grind down on his wet cock, dragging slick along his throbbing length until your clit’s bumping his tip.

“Poor little lamb,” his hands grab your hips, letting you rock against him.

With the grip he has on your hips, he easily manhandles you onto your back, kneeling between your spread legs, cock leaking all over your wet cunt.

“Oh god,” you mewl, scratching at his chest.

He spanks your clit with his fat cock.

“What did I say about taking the Lord’s name in vain?”

Your pupils swallow any color left in your eyes, “‘m sorry, daddy. I don’t mean to be bad.”

“Fuck,” he growls, slapping your cunt with his cock over and over to make your hips jump, “are you misbehaving on purpose?”

Head shaking no, you wrap your legs around his waist, “No, I didn’t mean— it just slipped out. I‘m sorry, Father Kennedy.”

He nudges the tip of his cock into your hole, making you keen and rock down. The pressure around just the head makes him want to be rougher, meaner with you.

He grins smugly down at you, “You just can’t help it, can you? The wetter this pussy gets the dumber you are, right? What a slut.”

You whine, the heels of your bare feet digging into the back of his legs, goading him to slide deeper into your cunt.

“Yes, I’m your slut, Father,” your hands tug on his rosary making him groan and fuck his dick into your spasming cunt.

His heavy weight drops over your body, earning another low whine followed by your nails scoring a hot trail across his shoulders. He shudders, enjoying that small bite of pain as your eyes roll back in your head, pussy sucking him in even deeper somehow.

“Pretty cunt just needed me buried balls deep in her, huh?” he groans as he pulls out just to sink back into your pussy, “so tight.”

“W-wait,” your voice goes high with sudden realization, “I thought p-priests were banned f-from having sex,” you gasp out, stuttering through Leon’s thrusts.

“Baby,” he coos condescendingly, “you don’t think I was some silly little virgin, did you?”

He boxes you in even more, dropping down on his forearms that rest on each side of your head.

“But I gotta say, you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever fucked,” he kisses your mouth, “so wet,” he drops another kiss to your lips, “and tight,” and another kiss ending with a rough bite of your bottom lip, “this kitty’s been purring for my dick all night.”

Your head thrashes against the pillow at his words, “Yes, yes, fuck,” tears drip from your lash line, “it’s so good, Father Kennedy.”

Molten heat rushes through his veins at your wanton face paired with that sweet voice. His teeth sink into that plush bottom lip, suckling on it until you tug your head back with a soft cry. It’s swollen and split from his teeth, a small bead of blood welling up only for him to lick it away with a groan.

He licks into your mouth, mixing spit and blood until he’s sucking your tongue past his own greedy lips. His cock slowly ruts in and out of your clenching hole as he kisses you breathless. Your fingers tangle in his rosary, tugging him back to your mouth every time he goes to pull away.

Leon lets himself go; stops trying to control himself and settles into fucking into your warm, wet cunt with harsh skin slapping thrusts. He bites anywhere his mouth can reach, leaving dark bruises or even outright bloody teeth marks behind. His dark eyes keep track of your pleasure as well; if you wince, he makes sure to lathe his tongue across a bite instead of sinking his teeth into you again or fucks his cock shallowly into your pussy instead of knocking against your cervix how he likes.

You reward him with pretty little cries and pleads against his lips; your doughy thighs clasped tightly around his waist as you beg for him to ruin your cunt. He wrings orgasm after orgasm until your body’s spent and you're babbling incoherently.

He keeps you underneath him all night, trading blood tinged kisses as his cock stuffs your squelching pussy. Sunlight begins to stream through the snow tinted windows when he finally manhandles your body to straddle over him once again.

Leon feels like this must truly be what heaven is like. You, seated in his lap as he buries his cock to the hilt in your hot little cunt watching as you grind down against him. Fat dimples between his fingers as he grips your ass tightly, helping you keep rhythm as he bounces you up and down his dick.

“Oh Father Kennedy,” you whimper, “I can’t, I can’t—“

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs, easing your harsh grind into a slow back and forth, “you can give me one more so I can feel that pussy squeeze me so I can put a nice thick load in her.”

His fingers slowly circle and pinch your pudgy clit, letting you rock against him a little faster.

“Oh, I’m-I’m g’nna,” you hiccup a sob, tears dripping from your eyes as he works your exhausted body towards another orgasm.

“Call me, Leon,” he smiles at you, the first genuine one he’s actually offered to anyone in quite a long time, “now cum for me, squeeze me nice and tight.”

“Leon, Leon, I-I’m cumming,” you gasp out, a mewling cry slipping past your swollen lips as your pussy milks Leon’s cock for the upteenth time since this all started.

“Good girl, so good for me,” he groans, letting your climax coax his own from him, grabbing your hips to hold you snug to him.

He growls up at you, cock jumping inside your spasming pussy as rope after rope of sticky cum spurts inside your fluttering walls.

“Leon, oh, it’s so warm,” you whimper, one hand settling on your belly and the other resting on Leon’s heaving chest.

“Fuck,” he yanks you down into a messy, spit filled kiss.

You whine and he softens it, titling his mouth up to press softer kisses to your lips until pulling away. Easing down next to him, you snuggle into his side, burying your face in his neck.

“So am I forgiven now?” you tease, fingers tracing over the beads of his rosary.

“Might need to spend some time with me in the confessional,” he presses a kiss to your hair, “just to make sure it takes.”

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