band smut & imagines [requests closed]

Church Boy (Remington Leith - smut)

For @butterrscotchhh

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"Mom I don't wanna fucking go!"

"First of all, young lady, I do not want to hear that word ever slip from your tongue again. Second of all, you're going whether you like it or not. This trip is going to be good for you. You'll get right with God and... they'll make sure you're not gay, too."

She mumbles the last part like I wouldnt hear her. "Me and God are just fine... And I'm not fucking gay either."

I walk off to pack my stuff knowing no matter how hard I try I'm going to church camp.

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The van pulls up in front of my house way too early. I load my duffel bag into the back of it and climb in through the double doors on the side. I sit on the far left side of the middle seat closest, to the window.

"Hi! I'm Remington!" A kid chirps from behind me. I turn around to get a good look at him. He's cute. Really attractive, actually. Way too pure though. I scoff to show that I really don't care who he is and turn back around to face the front.

About an hour long nap later we're pulling up to a wooded area littered with log cabins. More kids got on the bus while I was asleep.

"Monica."
"Elizabeth, you can call me Liz."
"Tyler."
"Mandy."
"Todd."
They all indroduce themselves to me.

"Yeah cool, uh, I'm (y/n) and don't bother me."

We all clamber out of the bus and walk around to the double doors at the back; where once the doors were opened, our suitcases and bags are basically spilling out.

For the next almost hour, the schedule consists of nothing but signing in, assigning cabins, getting actual schedules for the rest of the week, and the camp staff shoving pamphlet after pamphlet of self-promotion down our throats. When the time comes to go pack out things away in our cabins, I'm so exhausted I just want to sleep for the rest of the week. I don't want to see anyone in one of those disgustingly, happy-yellow colored t-shirts ever again.

Seven p.m. rolls around pretty quickly, and all the 'troops' are sitting in the dining hall waiting to be served. They call us up table by table to slide out metal trays along the assembly line; filling them up with the most bland looking (and probably tasting) food I've ever seen. Chucrch camp or church prison? I haven't been able to tell a difference yet.

That one weird boy is seated across from me. He tries to sneak glances at me, but I catch him every time.

"There something you'd like, Rambintan?" I ask, stabbing lima beans aith my fork only to hastily shove them off and begin to pick with the meat loaf.

"Remington," he starts quietly while marbling his gravy into his mashed potatoes. "And no- I'm fine."

Let's have a little fun with this, shall we? "Are you sure?" I lean over the table as close as possible to be sure no one else would hear. "You keep looking at me. Kinda like you want something. Tell me.... what do you want?"

"N-nothing." His eyes shift up to meet my gaze for a split second before glancing back down to his tray and clearing his throat. "I, uh, I just- I don't know. I-I thought you looked nice. Ni-nice like pretty. Y-you look pretty."

I put my fork down and reach across the table to run my fingers along his. "You're not so bad yourself, kid."

"Hey! No touching!" one of the observing camp counselors shrieks at us. Damn me to hell if I touch anyone. Physical contact is such a sin! Does she not know how she got here?