#nicholas chavez x fem reader

[k-nayee]

Between Faith and Flesh Grotesquerie x Midnight Mass

wc: 2.8k a/n: incase it was unclear, this is a little cross-over between Grotesquerie x Midnight Mass while also being an Actor!AU. Might be a lil confusing but wanted to make something new lol

Traveler M.List

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything....James 1:2-4." 

The familiar warmth of the chapel enveloped you as you delivered the final lines of your morning homily, your voice calm yet resonant in the quiet space.

Sunlight filtered through the modest stained-glass windows, casting soft hues of gold and amber across the worn pews where Crockett Island's tight-knit congregation sat.

The scent of salt and damp wood lingered faintly in the air—a reminder of the sea just beyond the church walls.

Your gaze swept across the group, catching the faces you had come to know so well over the past year.

The mayor's daughter Leeza Scarborough sat in the front row, wide eyes attentive on you as she folded her hands neatly in her lap.

Even Sheriff Hassan stood near the back as his son Ali sat near him listening intently, despite knowing how outdated many were to his Islamic faith.

These people, they had become your family in a way—this island, with all its quiet mysteries, had grown on you.

You closed your sermon with a passage on resilience, something that had always resonated with you—like how faith, similar to the sea surrounding them, could be both steady and tumultuous.

"We find strength not in the absence of struggle, but in how we rise after the waves pull us under." Your words hung in the air for a moment, met with soft nods and murmurs of agreement from the congregation.

"Let us pray," you began, your hands resting gently on the altar.

As you spoke your thoughts wandered briefly, like they often did, to Riley Flynn—a name you had known only through the accident that had first led you here.

His absence was a constant echo in the small populace community, felt even when it wasn't spoken aloud.

As the congregation stood to leave, you lingered near the altar to exchange kind words with those who came up to you.

A soft word here, a warm touch on the shoulder there—each gesture felt like a testament to how far you'd come.

This role, unexpected as it was, had become more than just a position. It was your calling.

"You've really made a place for yourself here," Anne said quietly, her expression sincere as she approached.

"Thank you Mrs. Flynn," you replied, offering her a gentle smile. "Means a lot coming from you."

And it did. Especially knowing how much of the weight of her son's sins pressed on her mind. 

It still surprised you sometimes how much the town had accepted you. Even when being the first ordained woman pastor—something that should have sparked outrage, especially in a small traditional community—the people had welcomed you with open arms.

Or at least most of them had.

The familiar sound of heels clicking sharply against the stone floor caught your attention.

Bev Keane.

She always had an aura of cold disapproval, her gaze flickering over you with barely concealed distaste.

"Another lovely service I'm sure," she said, compliment laced with her usual acidity. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she continued, "But I wonder if perhaps next time you might include more...traditional teachings? Some of the congregation finds your progressive messages a bit, well, out of step."

Her words stung, but you kept your expression calm refusing to rise to her bait.

Bev had never approved of your leadership from the start—the idea of a woman in your position, however temporary, was something she barely tolerates.

With every sermon you gave, every interaction with the townsfolk that went well, her bitterness seemed to deepen.

"I'll take your suggestion under consideration," you kept your tone firm. There was no point in arguing with Bev directly—it would only lead to more confrontation.

One thing you had long since learned about Bev's resistance was that it was more about control than doctrine.

She craved the power that came with influence over the church, and your very presence threatened that.

Bev's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Of course. Well I'll leave you to clean up. God knows there's always work to be done."

With a stiff nod she turned on her heel and marched away, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the doors.

As the last of the congregation departed, the chapel fell into a serene silence once again.

You exhaled softly, feeling the weight of the morning settle on your shoulders.

Despite the support of the community, moments like these reminded you of how precarious your position was.

You knew she was waiting for any excuse to discredit you—an outsider who had stepped into a role she believed was hers by right.

Busying yourself by tidying up, your hands smooth the fabric of the altar cloth as you cleared the space for the next service.

The chapel, now empty, felt both peaceful and solemn.

It was in these quiet moments that you often found yourself reflecting on the journey that had brought you here—from your small-town upbringing, to your studies, to this remote island where you now stood as the first ordained woman pastor.

The soft chime of your phone broke the stillness. Pulling the device from your pocket, you faintly smile at the name on the screen. Nick.

The message was short but familiar—a photo of him post-workout, his face flushed with exertion with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.

Nick: Finishing up my workout. Just wanted to give you an update :)

Your could feel the warmth creeping up your neck.

You weren't sure why you were smiling so much—after all, it was just Nick being...Nick. Friendly, teasing, always with that infectious charm.

But somehow, the way your eyes lingered on the photo for a beat too long made you acutely aware of something deeper. Something you weren't sure you should be feeling.

Shaking your head slightly, you reply back.

____: Glad to see you're keeping busy!

You hit send, already imagining the smirk he'd have seeing your response.

As soon you tuck away your phone, intent on finishing the cleanup, another buzz came almost immediately.

Nick: Hope you weren't doing anything unholy with that picture of me ;)

The heat had spread to your face and a startled laugh slipped past your lips.

You quickly type back.

____:  Behave Nicholas. I'm a pastor remember? 

You knew he was just being playful, but it didn't stop the way your heart skipped slightly at the implications.

Unholy. The word reverberated in your mind longer than it should have.

Before you could dwell too much on it, another text came through.

Nick: Sure sure I believe you ;) Anyways got a surprise for you

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, curiosity piqued.

____: A surprise? What kind?

Nick: You'll see. Just finished that project I told you about. Check your email when you get home. And no peeking. You promised

The reminder made you chuckle. ____: Fine fine I'll wait. It better be good especially with all this mystery!

You added a playful emoji at the end, the excitement clear in your message.

His response was immediate, and you could practically hear his voice.

Nick: Oh it's good. Don't worry I know you're going to love it.

You smiled at the screen, shaking your head at his confidence. Of course he'd know.

The faint echo of your steps on the wooden floor snapped you back to the present, making your thoughts drift back to his arrival, how it had all begun.

It was almost a year at the time when Father Pruitt had left on his pilgrimage, leaving you in charge of the church—a transition you hadn't anticipated but had eventually embraced.

And just as you were starting to find your footing, Nicholas Chaves had appeared, adding a new dynamic you hadn't expected.

Before he arrived to Crockett Island, you recall the unexpected email you received: a simple inquiry from the actor who was looking to deepen his understanding of priesthood for an upcoming role.

He wanted to shadow someone in the clergy, someone who could give him an authentic insight into the life of a pastor.

And he'd heard about your rather unique position on the island...

You of course were slightly taken aback by his openness and easy way he'd talked about his work.

It wasn't every day someone like Nick came knocking, but you had agreed mainly from intrigue of the whole situation.

Even when Bev became immediately suspicious of him—practically interrogating him when he first arrived—the rest of the town welcomed him warmly, charmed by his easygoing nature.

"Another distraction," she'd muttered once when Nick had offered to help you carry boxes of hymnals inside one time. "This is a church not a social club." 

Her words always came with that same bitter edge, though by now you'd learned to brush them off. 

He stayed in Father Pruitt's old house with you during that time in one of the spare rooms.

As you finished locking up and made your way toward the small home, your thoughts drifted back to him.

You never planned on feeling so affected by him. Yes he was charming, but it was more than that—there was something about him that drew you in even when you tried to resist it.

And it wasn't just his looks—though you couldn't deny the way your breath occasionally caught when he smiled at you in that boyish way of his.

No. It was his presence. The way he carried himself—confident yet curious, never shying away from asking questions about your work and sermons, about faith itself.

He was genuinely interested, even if he wasn't fully immersed in it like you were.

In all, conversations with Nick were easy; late-night talks often ended up stretching longer than intended as you discussed everything from theology to the little absurdities of life.

And yet despite the growing comfort, there had always been a tension simmering beneath the surface.

The first time you felt the it was when he'd sat in on one of your late-night study sessions, helping you prep for Sunday Mass.

His quiet attentiveness as he listened to you practice, his casual lean against the doorway as he watched with a smile tugging at his lips.

Now, as you made your way up the steps, you wondered what this surprise of Nick's could be.

You pushed the front door open, the familiar scent of wood and old books greeting you.

It was home now—at least for the time being. Letting out a sigh, you set your bag down and make your way to the bedroom.

Changing your robes and veil into a more comfortable sleepwear, you grab your laptop and settle into bed.

There in your inbox, you find a sent email from him.

Three video files, each with a timestamp of about an 50 minutes. The subject line read simply: For You.

You frowned in confusion but quickly clicked on the first one. The video loaded, and as it played, the familiar face of Niecy Nash popped up on the screen.

A soft laugh escaped you—a TV show? It wasn't what you were expecting, but you were intrigued.

As the episode unfolded, you were drawn into the storyline.

It was refreshing actually, seeing a concept that brushed against the edges of a religion that's intertwined with your own daily life.

By the second episode you were completely hooked. You'd grown attached to the characters, loving the way they navigated this warped world of morality and sin.

The storyline itself was intense and unpredictable in how it blended the very faith you preached into something so viscerally raw.

But then your heart leapt a little as Nick—or rather, Father Charlie finally appeared on screen.

You smiled, unable to resist snapping a picture of the scene and sending it to him with a simple teasing text.

____: Look who just showed up on my screen.

Your phone buzzed almost instantly, but you ignored it.

You were too caught up in watching him; your eyes tracing the way he moved, the way his expression shifted with every word.

It was surreal watching him play a priest when just a few weeks ago, he had been standing beside you in the church helping with the altar cloths.

Every close-up of his face had your heart doing an odd little flip. You'd shared conversations with that face, shared jokes and moments of comfort. 

The goofy smile on your lips was hard to suppress as you watched him banter with Sister Megan, the two having a light giggle over stolen fries.

You couldn't help but draw parallels between the man on the screen and the man you had grown close to—the actor who had been nothing but kind, thoughtful, and, admittedly, a little flirtatious.

And then the scene change.

The camera panned across a dimly lit, sparsely furnished room. Your eyes narrowed, focusing in on the figure sitting at the edge of a bed.

It was Father Charlie—his broad, bare back flexing as he sat, hunched slightly. The room was silent except for his soft labored breathing.

You watch with growing confusion as his breathing deepens.

A soft sound escapes him—a low moan—and suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifts entirely.

Your eyes widened upon realizing what you were seeing. Father Charlie is pleasuring himself.

The sounds of his quiet sighs fill the room, and you freeze as you try to process what you're watching. 

The camera caught it all: the soft sighs, the slow measured pace of his hand, the quiet moans that grew more strained with every movement.

You felt your breath hitch, heat creeping up your neck as you watched too stunned to look away.

You know it's just a show—it's just acting—but seeing Nick, someone you know, in such an intimate and vulnerable moment...it shakes you.

Your body feels hot, heart pounding as Father Charlie quickens his pace, his breath becoming more erratic, moans growing louder.

A strange warmth unfurled in your chest that you immediately tried to suppress.

It felt wrong to watch this—wrong to feel anything about it.

Your fingers tremble as you reach for your laptop, the desire to pause or stop the episode battling with the inexplicable pull to keep watching.

And then it changed again.

The camera cuts to him standing at a basin, his back to the facing you once again, the muscles in his back flexing under the low light.

You blink rapidly as he begins to wash his hands, the sound of the water almost deafening in the silence.

That's when you notice it—the chaps. He's wearing bottomless chaps, the skin of his thighs and backside completely bare.

"Sweet baby Jesus," you whisper, hands shaking as you press a hand to your mouth in attempt to contain the heat that spreads across your face.

It wasn't over.

Father Charlie moved toward a small wooden box, opening it with a reverence that made your stomach twist.

He reached inside and pulled out a flogging whip—a thick, multi-tailed instrument of punishment.

His expression is solemn, his lips moving in silent prayer as he prepares the whip, his fingers brushing reverently over the strips before raising the instrument of self-punishment.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch, unable to tear your eyes away as Father Charlie strikes himself.

The sharp crack of the whip fills the room and you flinch at the sound.

Each lash is deliberate. His body jerks with every strike, a soft grunt escaping him with every hit.

His whispered prayers mix with the sounds of his punishment, the intensity of the scene almost unbearable as it goes on, each crack of the whip sending a shiver down your spine.

It's too much. You couldn't take it anymore.

Your hand shot out, scrambling to close the laptop with a thud. For a moment you couldn't move.

Your body felt both heavy and weightless at the same time, suspended in the strange space between what you knew and what you had just witnessed.

The room around you suddenly felt too small, too close.

Shakily, you brush a few stray strands of hair from your damp forehead, trying to steady yourself.

You were a pastor—dedicated to God, to the people you served. You weren't supposed to feel like this.

Closing your eyes tightly, you try to will the feeling to go away and dissipate like the smoke from the candles you had blown out earlier in the church.

But the heat in your face, the trembling in your hands, didn't fade.

You felt as though you had been thrust into a battle between your devotion to God and the temptation of something far more dangerous—something you could no longer ignore.

The dim screen of your phone in your peripheral catches your attention.

Hesitant, you picked it up, and your stomach drops at the sight of Nicholas's message.

Nick: What do you think?

[winxanity-ii]

SACRILEGIOUS DEVOTION [1/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (oral sex/f. receiving; overstimulation; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: So, Father Charlie is out here losing all his morals and sanity on Grotesquerie and my mind couldn't help but match it, so what's a better idea other than channeling all the religious trauma/journey into a spicy one-shot? i for one feel like it's a mini-therapy, but enough rambling, enjoy 😩🫶🏾 i'm in love with a holy man, mother 😔…. second part: 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 and final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Father Charlie Mayhew was a sick man.

Not in the manner of flesh, but of spirit. He could feel the sickness festering in the quiet corners of his heart, a sinful yearning that had taken root there, twisting itself around his thoughts like creeping ivy.

It was a sickness that, he believed, made him a grotesque parody of the holy man he was meant to be. For how could he call himself righteous, devoted, when every whisper of prayer felt stained by the way his eyes followed you, Sister ____?

You were a vision of purity, an embodiment of the kind of gentle devotion that Father Charlie envied and craved all at once.

He watched you from a distance, always careful not to draw your gaze, afraid of what you might see if you looked too deeply. How dutiful you were, sweeping the church aisle with a focus that made him forget the dust and see only the graceful motion of your hands.

The sun, filtered through stained glass, seemed to seek you out, casting colors on your habit as if to mark you as someone far beyond his grasp, almost holy in your mundane tasks.

It was in the mornings, when he heard the soft chime of your laughter in the courtyard as you fed the pigeons, that he felt the deepest sting of his wretchedness.

The world seemed simpler in those moments, your laughter echoing off the stone walls, the warmth of early sun painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. He wondered if you knew how your kindness drew even the animals to you, their heads dipping into your palms as if receiving communion.

There was a stillness to you, a gentleness in every gesture.

The worst of it was during your services. Father Charlie had seen you on your knees before, hands folded in earnest prayer, your lips moving softly as you whispered your devotion to God.

He would stand at the back of the chapel, watching with a mixture of awe and something far darker. He told himself it was admiration, but the truth festered beneath that facade.

It was longing, a hunger that ached at the edges of his soul.

A storm raged outside the convent one evening, winds battering the church walls with a fury that mirrored the tempest building in his chest. The clouds were bloated, dark as his thoughts, and thunder rolled across the sky with a violence that shook even the faith he held so dear.

You had come to his chambers in the dead of night, your knock barely audible over the howling wind. He had been preparing for bed, freshly out of the shower, wearing only his boxers when he heard you at the door.

The creak of the old wood seemed to echo forever as he opened it, and there you stood, eyes wide, looking so impossibly fragile in the dim candlelight of the corridor. Your modest night slip clung to your form, the thin fabric shifting in the draft that sneaked in from the hallway.

Charlie's breath had caught in his throat at the sight of you, innocence incarnate, seeking refuge with him.

He hesitated for only a moment before allowing you in, quickly wrapping himself in a silk robe that hung loosely on his shoulders, barely tied. He knew he should not let you enter, but there was something in the way you looked at him—so trusting, so devoted—that made him abandon every rational thought.

You had come asking to pray with him, your soft voice trembling as you spoke. The storm outside seemed like a reflection of the turmoil within him as he let you step past the threshold, closing the door behind you.

Now, you were here, kneeling before him, your eyes upturned and wide, waiting for his command, for his instruction like the obedient servant of God that you were.

Your soft voice brought him out of his thoughts, a gentle, "Father...?"

Charlie could only lament to himself how sinfully pure you looked. He hummed softly, his eyes dark as they trailed over you, lingering on the curve of your shoulders, the delicate line of your neck.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across your skin, highlighting the innocence that made his hunger all the more unbearable.

"Yes, forgive me, Sister. Let us now pray," he finally said, his voice low and rough, the words nearly swallowed by the sound of the wind outside. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your forehead, and you leaned into the touch without hesitation, your eyes closing as if his hand was a blessing.

He swallowed hard, his thoughts spiraling deeper into the forbidden desires he had tried so desperately to keep buried.

He began to pray, his voice low, raspy, each word a struggle against the chaos inside him. "Heavenly Father, we come before you tonight..." But the words felt hollow, their meaning slipping away as he watched you, kneeling so obediently at his feet.

His eyes darkened, wandering further down, tracing the lines of your form. The way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks, the soft rise and fall of your chest with each breath—it all seemed to pull him further from the sanctity of the moment.

He should have been thinking of God, of salvation, of the purity of the prayer—but instead, he was thinking of you, of the way the thin fabric clung to your skin, the soft curve of your breasts visible through the modest slip.

He licked his lips, his gaze fixed on the delicate line of your collarbone, the way it rose and fell with each breath you took.

The more he spoke, the less the words mattered. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, spreading through his body, his thoughts growing more erratic, each word of the prayer slipping further from its sacred meaning, twisting into something profane, something filthy. "Protect us from all evil..." he whispered as he traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, the words a bitter irony as he felt himself drawn further into the darkness of his desires.

His hand moved lower, fingers trailing down your neck, lingering at the hollow of your throat. His touch was gentle, but there was a weight behind it, a hunger that he could no longer deny.

He could almost see the curve of your bare skin beneath the thin fabric, the outline of your body that he should not be imagining. He tried to focus on the prayer, but every word felt like a lie. He let out a shaky breath, the prayer faltering on his lips. "Guide us... guide us in your light," he managed, his voice thick with the weight of his longing.

The storm outside raged on, the wind howling as if to warn him, but Father Charlie could no longer hear it. All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rush of blood in his ears as he looked down at you, so trusting, so willing.

As the final words of the prayer fell from his lips—"Amen"—you echoed him, your voice soft and unwavering. You blinked open your eyes, looking up at him with such innocence and Charlie felt himself slip past the point of no return.

He knew that no amount of prayer could ever cleanse him of what he wanted, that he could no longer pretend, no longer fight against the pull that drew him to you—the sweet, precious nun who had unknowingly captured his very soul.

Father Charlie stood, his robe slipping slightly from his shoulders, exposing the toned muscle beneath. The wind howled outside, and thunder bellowed again, followed by a flash of lightning that lit the room in a brief, startling blaze of white.

You were still kneeling before him, your wide eyes following his every movement, the flickering light casting you in both shadow and radiance.

Charlie bent at the waist, his fingers reaching out to cup your jaw, thumb caressing your bottom lip as his half-lidded eyes trailed over your face. "Sister ____," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of affection, his name for you almost reverent, as though you were something sacred, something he could worship in his own unholy way.

You blinked, shifting slightly beneath his touch, a soft stutter escaping your lips. "F-Father...?"

He grasped one of your hands, his fingers wrapping around yours, and as he stood, he gently urged you to rise with him. His gaze never left your face, his eyes dark and full of something raw. He began to speak, his voice barely more than a murmur, the words heavy with confession. "As a man of God, there are expectations placed upon me," he started, his tone wavering between remorse and something darker, something that made his grip on your hand tighten. "I am meant to guide, to protect, to remain steadfast in my faith."

His other hand moved, slowly pulling your trembling hand against his bare stomach, pressing your palm against the hard planes of his abdomen.

You gasped, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, your hand trembling beneath his. The heat of his skin burned into your palm, the muscles flexing beneath your touch.

Charlie continued, his voice lowering, growing more intense as he spoke. "But these days... these days, Sister, I find myself at war. At war with desires that threaten to consume me..." His words trailed off, and he let out a low hum as he rubbed your hand across his stomach, the movement slow, deliberate.

Your hand hesitated for a moment, the warmth of his skin making you tremble as you instinctively pulled back. But his grip was firm, guiding you back, and slowly, tentatively, your fingers splayed across his stomach, your touch feather-light.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flickering down before you took a timid step closer, as if drawn by some invisible force. Your gaze shifted to the side, your cheeks warming with embarrassment at the proximity, at the way you could feel his heart beating beneath your palm.

Father Charlie's eyes never left you, and he could see every ounce of hesitation, every flicker of uncertainty that danced across your face. He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against your forehead as he spoke, his voice a low murmur, "There's no need to be afraid, Sister. You are safe here... with me."

You blinked, your lashes fluttering as you dared to look up at him, your eyes meeting his through the veil of uncertainty.

There was something in his gaze, something dark and magnetic that pulled at you, made your pulse race. His thumb brushed the edge of your jaw; the touch almost comforting, but there was an intensity behind it that made you shiver.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice to speak, your fingers trembling slightly against his skin. He smiled, a slow, almost predatory curve of his lips, and he hummed again, satisfied with your silent answer.

His other hand moved to rest against the small of your back, pulling you just a little bit closer, his robe parting further, exposing more of his chest.

Your breath hitched as you felt the distance between you closing, the way his body seemed to envelop yours. You could barely think, your mind clouded with the storm of emotions and the strange, electric pull you felt toward him.

His thumb traced along your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he watched you. You felt your pulse quicken, your knees weakening under the intensity of his gaze.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and something darker, something that made your heart pound even harder. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your body react, leaning in just slightly, as if craving more of his warmth, his touch.

His fingers trailed lower, coaxing your hand along his body, and you felt the tension, the desire in every muscle. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a husky whisper, "Let me show you, Sister ____... let me show you what devotion truly means."

He kissed you then, his lips crashing against yours like a man starved. His mouth moved hungrily, tasting, devouring, and you felt his tongue lick into your mouth, coaxing a soft, surprised whimper from your throat. His groan vibrated against your lips, the sound raw and desperate.

Your head spun, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the sheer need in his kiss.

You pulled back, gasping for air, your lips tingling from the force of his kiss. He didn't give you a moment to recover; his lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin.

He nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp, to make your knees weaken beneath you. The heat of his mouth trailed down, his tongue flicking out to soothe each small bite, and you felt your body trembling, a warmth pooling low in your belly.

Charlie's hands were relentless, holding you steady as your body threatened to give out, your knees buckling as his mouth worked against your skin. He pulled back only long enough to whisper your name, his voice thick with something between reverence and hunger.

Before you knew it, he had scooped you up, his arms strong and sure as he carried you towards his bed. Your breath hitched, your fingers clinging to his robe as he moved, each step filled with purpose.

He set you down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath your weight. His eyes roamed over you, dark and filled with desire, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

Father Charlie moved quickly, his hands deft as he pushed your slip off your shoulders, the fabric sliding down your skin and pooling around your waist. His lips followed the path of the falling slip, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your shoulders, his warm breath fanning across your skin.

You shivered beneath his touch, the cool air of the room prickling at your exposed skin, your nipples pebbling in response.

His eyes darkened at the sight of you, and he let out a low groan, his hands running along your bare arms, feeling the way you trembled beneath him. "You're like a goddess," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and lust. "Perfect. Untouched. A temptation I can't resist." His lips found your collarbone, kissing, nipping, his words vibrating against your skin.

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, trailing down the center of your chest, his hands spreading across your back, urging you to arch into him. His kisses were relentless, each one making your breath catch, making your body react in ways that felt both unfamiliar and thrilling.

You couldn't stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you, unsure of what to do, where to touch.

Charlie pulled back for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, his gaze filled with hunger. He pushed you back against the bed, guiding you to lie down, his hands never leaving your body, his touch possessive, as if he couldn't bear to be without contact. He looked down at you, splayed out before him, your slip barely covering you, and he licked his lips, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed skin.

"Look at you," he whispered, his voice dripping with a mix of adoration and hunger. "So innocent, so pure... and all mine." He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss, his hands working the slip further down your body, baring you completely to him.

The cool air made you shiver, your body exposed, vulnerable, and you couldn't help the way your legs shifted, instinctively trying to close.

Charlie's hands moved to your knees, gently but firmly pushing them apart, his eyes never leaving your face as he watched your reaction. His lips moved from your mouth, trailing down your jaw to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as he groaned against you.

He pulled the slip away entirely, tossing it aside, his hands roaming over your bare skin, mapping every inch as though he were committing you to memory. "You are... perfection," he muttered, his voice strained, filled with a hunger that made your breath hitch.

His lips moved lower, trailing down your body, leaving a heated path across your chest, your stomach, and further down. His hands were strong, keeping your legs pinned open to the bed, his fingers pressing into your thighs with a possessive hold. He kissed along your inner thighs, his warm breath fanning over your skin, making you shiver, anticipation coiling in your belly.

You instinctively tried to scoot back, to move away as you felt his breath getting closer to your core, but Charlie's grip tightened, his hands holding you firmly in place. He looked up at you, his eyes dark, almost predatory, as he whispered, "Stay still, Sister... let me worship you."

He breathed you in, a deep, satisfied groan rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as if savoring the scent of you, and then he leaned in, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your clit.

A squeal, half surprise and half pleasure, escaped your lips, your back arching slightly off the bed.

Father Charlie's tongue moved with a purpose, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. His hands kept your legs spread, his grip firm and unyielding as he worked his mouth against you, his groans vibrating against your core.

He was relentless, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, trying to ground yourself as waves of pleasure washed over you.

You could feel his smooth skin against your inner thighs, the sensation only adding to the overwhelming pleasure that built inside you. His tongue moved in slow, teasing circles, his lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against you, his eyes flicking up to watch your every reaction.

The sight of you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your chest heaved with every ragged breath—only seemed to spur him on, his groans growing louder as he tasted you.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, your hips bucking against his mouth, a whimper slipping from your lips. Charlie's hands moved to hold your hips down, pinning you to the bed as he continued, his tongue delving into you, his nose brushing against your clit as he worked, utterly consumed by the taste of you.

He was lost in it, in you, his tongue moving faster, his mouth desperate as he devoured you.

You gasped, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer, your body trembling beneath him. The heat built inside you, coiling tighter and tighter, until you felt like you might break apart. His name fell from your lips, a breathless plea, and he groaned in response, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.

Your back arched off the bed, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body ready to fall apart under his touch.

Your first orgasm washed over you without warning, a blinding wave of pleasure that left you feeling weightless, your entire body trembling as you came undone beneath him. You melted into the bed like butter, your limbs going limp as the intensity of it left you breathless.

Charlie's mouth moved against you with a fervent hunger, drinking in every bit of your release as if it were the most sacred offering.

A small whimper escaped your lips as the sensation grew overwhelming, your body growing sensitive to his touch. He didn't stop, his tongue moving lazily, drawing out every last bit of pleasure from you, his mouth still savoring you.

Your grip on his head shifted, your fingers now pushing at him, trying to get him to stop, but his hands only gripped your thighs tighter, keeping you in place. "W-Wait..." The heat in your stomach was already starting to build again, the slow, deliberate movements of his tongue igniting another fire deep within you.

Charlie groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core, his face buried even further between your legs, his tongue relentless.

Your breath came in quick, shallow gasps, your body trembling once more as the pleasure built. You could feel another orgasm approaching, your mind spinning as you tried to form words, but all that left your throat were broken, incoherent sounds—static that filled the room as you babbled.

You tried to scoot back, to move away from the overwhelming sensation, but Charlie's strong arms wrapped around your hips, yanking you back down, his grip unyielding. His own hips pressed into the bedding below, his desperation evident as he devoured you.

You teetered on the edge once more, the pleasure too much, too intense, until it finally broke over you again, your body arching, your mind going completely blank as you came undone a second time.

The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his mouth on you, the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming ecstasy that left you gasping for air.

As you came down from your high, your body trembling, Father Charlie finally pulled back, his lips and chin glistening. He stared up at you with dark, lidded eyes, his expression filled with hunger, with desire that seemed insatiable.

There was no hesitation, no regret—only a raw need that made it clear he no longer cared about going against his vows, no longer cared about the priesthood or what was right.

All that mattered to him was you.

A/N: i'm sorry, i just watched Grotesquerie last night and i've become obssessed.... ugh, the tension between father charlie and sister megan is just *chefs kiss* it's clear that megan is obviously meant to be y/n and the screenplay was written in the intent of it being catered to the female gaze because wheeeeww 😩...

[greengoblinswifey]

Temple— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— they always say “your body is a temple” and boy is nicholas’ body a temple you love to climb and worship.

warnings— PURE SMUT. fingering, hand job, oral(m receiving), unprotected sex, mirror play, spit kink, praise kink, degrading kink, body worship, ass slapping, choking, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink, cum eating, rough sex, aftercare, fluff.

a/n— ovulating and wrote this based on these pictures because he looks so good, ugh, i NEED him. (not prof read)

You were wandering the aisles of your favorite boutique, surrounded by the chatter of other shoppers. Just as you picked up a cute dress, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You fished it out, expecting a simple text, but what you saw made your breath hitch and your pussy throb.

Nicholas had sent you a picture of himself shirtless, standing in his bathroom with the light cascading down his chiseled abs, his hair slightly damp and tousled and then one with the hat you gifted him on. He looked incredible, his physique had transformed since you first started dating for his new roles, becoming more defined and muscular, and it left you utterly speechless.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as heat pooled in your core. God, he looks good. You remembered when you first met him, he was charming and sweet, and you loved him just as he was then. But this new version of him? It ignited something deep within you. It was as if every sculpted muscle was begging for your attention, and all you could think about was how much you needed him inside you, pounding you.

The dress you were holding suddenly felt heavier as you clutched it tighter, trying to maintain your composure in the middle of the store. Your thighs clenched instinctively, and you could feel the flush creeping up your cheeks. How was it possible for someone to look that good? You found yourself blushing, desperately trying to focus on the price tags in front of you, but your mind was racing with thoughts of him.

You quickly typed back, your fingers trembling as you tried to keep it casual. “Wow, what are you trying to do to me?” You hit send, your heart racing with anticipation. He was always playful, but this felt different, this felt more personal, more intimate.

As you made your way to the cash register, you could still see him in your mind, his body the definition of perfection. You swiped his card without a second thought, the thrill of using his money adding to your excitement. If only he were here right now. You imagined him behind you, his hands resting on your hips, whispering sweet nothings as you paid.

Your thoughts swirled with desire, longing to feel his warmth against your skin, to wrap your arms around him and pull him in close. His body was a temple, you thought, it was a holy site you craved to explore.

With a final glance at the dress in your hands, you decided to head home, your mind set on what would happen once you got there. You needed him, and you could already envision the fire igniting between you two as soon as you walked through the door.

As you rushed through the front door, adrenaline surged through you. You barely took the time to drop your shopping bags before you heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning off.

You quietly made your way down the hallway, the steam still lingering in the air, and as you approached the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of him stepping out, droplets of water glistening on his perfectly chiseled body. Nicholas looked like a god, one you craved to worship, his muscles taut and glistening under the dim light, every curve and contour accentuated.

You leaned against the doorframe, mesmerized, your breath catching in your throat. This was everything you’d imagined and more. He dried himself off with a towel, completely unaware of your presence, and for a moment, you relished the view, every single inch of him was a work of art.

But you were done watching. The heat radiating from your core was too strong to ignore, and all rational thoughts slipped away. Without a second thought, you slipped out of your clothes, leaving yourself bare and vulnerable in the dim light.

The chill of the air contrasted sharply with the heat building inside you, but it only fueled your desire further. You stepped into the bathroom, your heart pounding, and when he finally turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise and hunger.

“Nicholas,” you breathed, your voice thick with need. You stepped closer, the space between you two disappearing as the urgency of the moment enveloped you.

“Hey baby— oh shit.”

His towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, and in that instant, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, raw, exposed, and yearning for each other.

“Oh god, I need you so bad,” you whined, your body pressed against his as you desperately kissed him all over his chest and tipped to meet his cheeks and lips.

Nicholas pulled you close, laughter in his eyes as he felt your warmth enveloping him. “What’s gotten into you, pretty baby?” he teased, a playful grin spreading across his face.

You looked up at him, your heart racing as you felt the heat radiating off his body. “Look at you,” you replied, your voice breathless. “Walking around here looking like this, sending me pictures of you shirtless… God, what do you expect?”

With a mischievous smile, you moved behind him, admiring his tall, muscular frame in the mirror. You couldn’t help but caress his abs, fingers tracing the defined lines, marveling at the way his body felt under your touch. He threw his head back in pleasure, a low groan escaping his lips as your hands explored him.

The atmosphere shifted, the playful banter giving way to something more primal. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body responded to your every caress. His thick, long cock was painfully hard now , and you could sense the need in him building, mirroring your own.

You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him gently as you both stared into the mirror. The sight was mesmerizing, his face contorting with pleasure, the way he fell apart under your touch, completely lost in the moment.

As you continued, you watched him unravel, utterly captivated by how hot he was, how perfectly he fit into your desires.

“Look at yourself daddy, I’m making you feel so good, you look so fucking sexy,” you panted, speeding up your movements.

You bit your lip as you felt him jump and throb in your hands, everything he did made you feral. Then, with a shudder and a low moan, you felt the warmth spill onto your hand, a testament to the electric connection between you two.

“Open your eyes,” you demanded. They fluttered open and he watched in the mirror as you sucked his cum from off your fingers before lifting them up to his lips making him taste what was left of himself. He hummed in content, the sound going straight to your pussy but you would deal with that problem soon.

“No,” you said, determination lacing your voice as you looked up at him. “I need to give you more. I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”

Slowly, you sank to your knees, eyes locked onto his as you let your tongue glide over his chest, savoring the taste of his skin. You trailed your tongue down to his abs, worshipping every ridge and contour. “You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your voice low and sultry. “So sexy, Daddy.”

His breath hitched at your words, and you could see the effect you had on him, his body responding to your every move. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock again, feeling him harden beneath your touch.

“Look at how big you are,” you praised, your voice dripping with admiration. “So perfect in my hands.” You leaned closer, giving him a teasing lick, savoring the taste of him, and your eyes rolled back in pleasure at how good he tasted. “Mm, you taste amazing daddy.”

With that, you took him into your mouth, feeling him fill you completely. The sounds of his pleasure willed you on, and you began to move, sending him to the back of your throat, lost in the rhythm of worshipping him. “You taste so good,” you whispered between breaths, and Nicholas groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, urging you on.

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You continued, letting his praises wash over you, and as you felt him hold your head down and cum down your throat, it was like fireworks exploded around you. You savored the moment, knowing you had brought him to this point of ecstasy.

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, feeling bold. With your fingers, you gathered the rest of his release from his hard cock and brought it to your mouth. You took it in, savoring the taste, and smeared it and your saliva over his chiseled abs. You couldn’t resist the urge to lick it all off, your body shuddering with each stroke of your tongue.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, y’know that?” he said, watching you with a mix of awe and desire. “I appreciate that, baby. But now, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”

He positioned you in front of him, hoisting one of your feet up onto the counter, giving him a better angle. “Open your mouth,” he commanded softly, and you complied eagerly, watching as he spat into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it happily, feeling the rush of satisfaction.

Nicholas trailed his finger down your body, stopping at your soaking wet pussy. As he slipped a finger inside you, you gasped, your body arching toward him instinctively. “Look at yourself in the mirror,” he instructed, his voice thick with lust. “Look how beautiful you are.”

You glanced up, eyes locking with your reflection. The sight of you, flushed and breathless, sent a thrill through you. Nicholas’ finger worked expertly inside you, curling just right, and the pleasure began to build. “That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come apart like this,” he praised, his gaze never leaving your face as he watched you surrender to the waves of ecstasy. “Let me see you feel good.”

With each movement of his fingers, the pleasure surged higher, and you found yourself lost in the sensation. “Daddy,” your moans filling the room as you finally reached your release, trembling under his touch.

“That’s it, I’ve got you baby, daddy’s got you,” he cooed, rubbing your clit fast as your body jolted and slowly came down from your high.

Nicholas trailed kisses down your neck and across your shoulders, his lips warm against your skin. “Look in the mirror, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against you. You obeyed, your heart racing as you met your own gaze, feeling every kiss ignite your desire.

With a sudden, playful movement, he bent you over the counter, a sharp smack landing on your ass. “You look so sexy like this,” he teased, watching you wiggle your backside against him. You grinned back at him, biting your lip. “You look like a Greek god,” you shot back, and he smirked, pride flashing in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, holding your neck gently but firmly, bringing you back against his chest. You arched into him, feeling his hard cock tease against you as he slipped inside, filling you completely.

He began to pound into you roughly, his grip on your neck ensuring you were locked onto his gaze in the mirror. “Keep those eyes on me,” he commanded, and when you felt the urge to close them, he shook you slightly. “Look at yourself!”

“Daddy, you feel so good,” you gasped, feeling the pleasure building inside you.

“Tell me more,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how fucking hot I am.”

You nodded, breathless, “You’re so hot, so beautiful. I love your body, daddy. I love how you look as you pound into me.”

“Such a dirty slut,” he teased, reveling in the sight of you enjoying every second. He rubbed your clit, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. “Look at yourself being fucked.”

With a loud moan, you surrendered to the man behind, your release washing over you as you cried out his name like it was the only word you knew.

Nicholas smirked, a glint in his eye. “I’m not done with you yet,” he declared, hoisting you up effortlessly, arms hooked under your legs. He turned you sideways, positioning you perfectly so you could watch him slam into you.

“Worship me,” he commanded, his voice deep and gravelly making you throb.

You felt a surge of excitement course through you, and you nodded, biting your lip as you gazed into his eyes. “You’re everything, Nicholas. So strong, so perfect,” you whispered, your heart racing at the power he held over you, “you’re so fucking beautiful, your body is a work of art.”

With each thrust, he drove deeper, filling you completely. “That’s it, baby. You know how to treat me right,” he growled, his tone playful yet commanding. “Show me how much you want me.”

You leaned forward, kissing him passionately, your hands roaming over his chiseled chest and arms. “I need you,” you breathed between kisses. “You feel so good. I can’t get enough daddy.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you cum again.”

You gasped as he hit that sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. “Daddy!” you cried out, feeling yourself on the edge once more. “I’m so close!”

“Then let go for me,” he urged, his eyes locked on yours, watching as the ecstasy took over. “Worship your man, baby.”

With one final thrust, you felt the familiar rush of pleasure envelop you as you climaxed, a wave of satisfaction washing over you. “Nicholas!” you cried, and he groaned in response, losing himself in the moment as he held you close, his body trembling with the intensity of it all but still not releasing.

He didn’t let you go. Instead, he laid your body down on the counter just a little, your legs wrapped tightly around him as he pounded into you once more. The world flipped upside down as you caught your reflection in the mirror, his tall frame hovering above you. The sight of him, muscles glistening and face twisted in pleasure, made your head spin.

“Who’s your daddy?” he asked, his voice thick with desire, his hand firm around your neck, exerting just enough pressure to send shivers down your spine.

“You,” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath. “You look like a god, so so h-handsome.”

The feeling of being so close to him made you dizzy, and his relentless thrusts only intensified the sensation. “I’m gonna fill you up and breed you like a bitch,” he growled, and your body responded to his words, craving more.

“Please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper as you gasped for air, but the urgency in your tone said everything. “I want it. I want you. I want your cum inside me!”

He smirked, the heat of his breath against your skin sending another wave of pleasure through you. “Since you think I’m so perfect, we’re gonna make the most perfect little babies,” he teased, pounding harder, deeper. You could feel the tension building as he brought you closer to the edge once more.

With a final, powerful thrust, he filled you completely, each pulse of his hot cum sending waves of ecstasy coursing through both of you. You felt him tremble against you as he held your neck tightly, ensuring you were looking at yourselves in the mirror.

As the high faded, exhaustion washed over you. He scooped you up into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder like a baby, ironic, considering what just happened. He brought a towel to clean you up, laying you gently on the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses across your skin.

“You did so good, baby,” he murmured, pride evident in his voice. “You took me so well. I’m so proud of you. You’re so perfect, princess.”

You cuddled into him, tracing circles on his pecs as you kissed his chest, savoring the warmth and safety of his embrace. In that moment, everything felt right, the world outside forgotten as you enjoyed the afterglow of what you had just shared.

[fear-is-truth]

FRIENDS — nicholas a. chavez x co-star!reader

falling asleep together had become a habit neither of you ever really discussed. after long days on set, it was almost inevitable—you’d both end up on the couch in his or your trailer, too tired to move, too comfortable to care. it always started innocently enough: your legs stretched across his lap or his arm slung over the back of the couch. but at some point, the exhaustion would take over, and soon enough, you’d be nestled into his chest, his arms wrapped around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

you were just friends, of course. nothing more. but there was something about the way you fit together, the way his hand would rest a little too low on your waist as you slept, or how your face would inevitably end up against his neck, the warmth radiating pulling you in closer than either of you intended. by morning, there was always that brief, awkward moment—his body stirring against yours, a hardness neither you acknowledged but were both acutely aware of.

nicholas’ morning voice was low, rough around the edges when he shifted beside you, mumbling something incoherent. his hair, completely mussed up, stuck out in different directions, a sight that might’ve made you laugh if not for the heat that flushed through you as you lay there, your body still pressed close to his. you’d both wake slowly, muscles aching from sleeping at awkward angles, your back stiff, his arm heavy where it had draped over you in the night.

you never said anything about it, though. not about the warmth between you when you woke, not about the slight flush that crept into your cheeks as you untangled yourself from him. you were just friends, after all. you’d stretch, roll your neck to ease the stiffness, and nicholas would do the same, both of you pretending not to notice how close you’d been just moments before. there was an unspoken agreement between you to leave it at that. no questions, no second glances. it was difficult not to feel something else stirring inside you. it was fleeting, though—gone as soon as you both stood up, laughed it off, and carried on like nothing had happened. because you were just friends. always just friends.

mlist  fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[diorchids]

your purity is precious ! charlie mayhew.

father charlie mayhew who just can’t keep his filthy hands off you during private bible study lessons.

you’re sat on his lap. you two are just that close, there’s nothing abnormal about this. “father, you—you know a lot about this stuff,” you say, his fingers trailing toward your poor cunt, all wet and puffy under your panties. practically begging to be touched. “y-you’re very smart, father.” just give in, what’s so hard about it?

but you can’t.

his other one squeezes and kneads your soft, shapely breasts, fitting ever so perfectly in his rough and calloused hand. “you know,” he sighs in your ear, bulge pushing up against your plush ass, “your father never mentioned how beautiful you were, did he?” you hesitantly shake your head as he hooks his finger onto your panties and pulls them to the side. 

your lips part with a soft gasp as he drags his finger up your warmth, slickness spreading across your delicate parts. 

he leaned in closer, lowering his voice even more. “have you given your innocence away yet?” his breath was hot on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. 

the question catches you off guard, of course, you haven’t, that’d be disgusting. no man would ever look at—let alone marry a woman without her virginity, especially in your town.

“no, father, i—i’m waiting until marriage. i’m still pure,” you whisper.

he groans and softly pushes up against your ass. so pure, you are. you follow the word.

you’re clean.

“good girl, keep it that way. your purity is precious. remember that.” he says in your ear, breath still warm against your skin, making you softly grind down on his fingers. 

“i will,” you repeat in your head, that saying. my purity is precious, my purity is precious, my purity is precious.

his thick middle finger circles your tight hole before slipping in slowly, you wince and bite your full lip, stifling a loud cry. he grins sadistically. a small amount of blood coats his finger, he runs his tongue over his lip in response. 

“and you haven’t,” he pushes his finger in more, focusing on that spongy spot within, “touched yourself?” he felt a stirring in his pants, his thick cock straining against his slacks, begging to be let out.

you tell him you haven’t; it’s mostly true. though one time you got a bit carried away with your pillow.

his grin widened mischievously. "you mean to tell me that beautiful, untouched body of yours is... a virgin in every sense?" his hand on your breast slowly started to caress it again, his touch gentle yet so… perverse.

it’s like he was hungry.

“yes, f-father.” your legs trembled slightly as he dug deep inside of your warm, inviting hole, so soft and tight. the priests' voice grew husky as he spoke, "you know, my child... when i was your age, i couldn't keep my hands off myself. i'd touch myself every chance i got, in the shower, under the desk at school... sometimes even at church."

he speaks as if he doesn’t still touch himself every single night. 

his finger curls inside you, and an involuntary whine escapes your lips. your clit felt all fuzzy, and your tummy tightened as you slowly began to move your hips back and forth on his finger, blood prickling on your lip from the pressure of your teeth.

“that’s it. riiight there, take it all, my child. make yourself feel good,” his voice completely shifted, so smooth and still so low. 

he pulled out of you quickly, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth and sucking them disgustingly. his eyes rolled back while he did, and you felt his fat cock throb through his pants as he tasted your sweet nectar, with a hint of a metallic taste. your virgin blood.

his focus slowly turned back to you, and he slipped his finger back in without a word, just groans and sighs filling the room. “my child, you—you are… the most precious thing,” your cunt tightens around his finger, telling him you were inching closer to release.

the feeling in your puffy, red clit was so overwhelming, heat reaching every part of your body in a matter of seconds. another hand comes and touches it, rubbing and pushing down on it as tears begin brimming your eyes while you cry loudly, legs shaking uncontrollably at this point. 

your vision began to blur as you felt your tummy release the knot it’d been tightening since he’d started touching you. “oh, father! i can’t—i…” you went numb completely, thrashing as your sticky juices flowed out of your, now, used hole. your moans were obnoxiously loud, you’d let go all over your poor priest.

he didn’t stop there though, rubbing and bucking his hips against your soft ass until he gets what he’s been wanting for ages. he pushes his hips up against you one more time before whimpering softly and groaning, breathing warmly against you. 

you both sat there for a minute, dazed and coming to your senses before he urged you to make yourself decent and ushered you out of his room, leaving you with familiar words. 

“your purity is so precious, my child.”

[bushswkq]

FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW X NUN!READER

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is quick but it's an idea that's bothering me. Maybe I can write more 🕊️

“I love you” Charlie said, his heavy hand roaming your body as he snuggled into your chest looking for warmth.

It was different to see Father Charlie fall in love with you, the man you believed was someone completely different. He was completely surrendered to you, to your love and comfort that you brought whenever you visited his room while he let you use him as much and whenever you wanted.

Only with you did he confess the sins he had never said out loud to anyone, he showed you the scars on his back while you caressed him saying everything was fine with him, you repeated that there was nothing wrong with him.

A lie, but your warm voice was enough to make him melt again and again as he thought only about pleasing you at all times.

There was a dependency and obsession that you ignored, Charlie Mayhew needed love and you gave it to him leaving him weak every time you fucked.

It was like being a teenager again, when there were no worries other than your own petty actions. It was like not remembering that you had a commitment to the church, that you should dedicate your entire life to the Lord. But it was hard to remember the bad things when you had Charlie between your legs, doing all the work before you even asked.

[multifandomworldsposts]

I NEED THIS MAN 🥵🥵

[sohighonuu]

they don’t have what we have. ⟢

pairing. nicholas chavez x poc!fem reader .ᐟ

synopsis. nicholas will always be there for you. ༘⋆

warnings. this might not make sense ! wrote this when i was half asleep ;3 ⭑.ᐟ

DATING NICHOLAS COULD be so difficult at times. everyone followed your every single step, & fans were just truly obsessed with you. (not that that’s a bad thing..)

and with that being said.. as you scrolled on instagram you saw a post that had a picture of you & nicholas with the caption " they’re so cute together! "

which of course made you smile, why wouldn’t it?

but unfortunately as soon as you got into the comments your smile faded. you saw people saying that you didn’t deserve him, you guys should break up, and that you were not pretty enough for him.

not pretty enough for him?? come on. you? not pretty enough? of course you didn’t let them get to you because it’s just petty comments.

they’re just jealous.

two weeks later, people were still going on and on about you and nicholas. honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t starting to get to you.

girls are constantly talking about you and being all in your relationship, how could that not get to someone?

it was just all tiring.

and now, you’ve gotten distant from nicholas because of it.

nicholas obviously noticed the change in you after the last time you guys hung out, your dry text messages, & the way you’d always try to make up an excuse not to go out.

for a whole week, you barely even talked to him. you didn’t know up to set like you’d normally do, and when you did show up to set, you kinda just avoided him.

he tried to give you your space even though he didn’t quite know what he did, assuming that maybe you were just tired from the week. but as the week passed, he began to become concerned.

finally he decided to go over to your house, just to check on you, see what was actually going on with you..

he knocked on the door softly. " i’m busy! " he hums before knocking again. you knitted your eyebrows together as he continued to knock.

" i’m busy! go away! " you said, rolling your eyes with a sigh. " hm? too busy for me? " nicholas said through the door.

there was a small pause as he continued knocking. you stood in front of the door, hesitating if you should open it.

finally, you opened the door and stood in front of him, your eyes puffy. " hi. " he said with a grin. " hi, nicholas. "

you never called him nicholas.. he could also tell that you’d been crying. " what’s been going on with you baby? tell me, are you okay? " he said, stepping through the door.

as you walked to the couch, he followed closely behind you. you finally told him everything that had been happening in the past week.

" sweetheart, at the end of the day, i’m in your arms and not theirs. "

[blackynsupremacy]

RETURNING THE FAVOR

pairing: nicholas chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: you and your fiancé, nicholas, start to look at things in a new perspective after spending the whole day with your three-year-old nephew, ashton.

contains: lots of words, so. much. fluff., cuddling, kissing, playfulness, mention of death in the family, nicholas being the big sweetheart he is. you call your nephew by the nickname “bookie” pronounced like “pookie”, but with a b.

taglist: @rosiestalez @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @ellethespaceunicorn @sabrinasopposite @gxuxhdjdu @zombigrlll @paisholotus @tryingtograspctrl @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites

your older sister couldn’t thank you and nicholas enough as she handed off a backpack with all of the items necessary for caring for your nephew, ashton. she was making plans to do his hair and spend quality time with her son, but she got called in for an eight hour shift, so she didn’t hesitate to call you up to see if you and nicholas were available to babysit. you and nicholas enthusiastically agreed to take on the task of spending this time with ashton. fortunately, he was on a month long break before filming for his next project and this was your weekend off. a smile grew on both of your faces as you felt two tiny arms wrap around your legs. your beaming face looks down to meet ashton’s, who gazed up at you with those precious doe eyes and wide grin with his kinky afro of curls sticking up and around in different directions on his head.

“hi, ti-ti!” his soft high pitched voice made you and your sister simper as you bent down to gather your nephew within your arms.

“hey, bookie!” you greet him and turn him to nicholas who was already grinning as he greeted the boy before he reached his hands out to see if ashton wanted to give him a hug.

“hey, buddy! how’s my guy, huh?”

“uncle nic!” ashton jovially responded, quickly unraveling his miniature arms from around your neck to make grabby hands towards nicholas who didn’t hesitate to scoop him from your arms.

“here let me get this for you. we’ll leave you ladies alone. we’re gonna have a little snack until we get started. it’s always a pleasure to see you, s/n. we’ll be ready when you are, babe.”

nicholas said before placing a kiss on your cheek. he held the toddler on his side with one arm and like the gentleman he was, he took the backpack off your sister’s hands to which she graciously thanked him. he took his cue to exit to the kitchen while striking up a conversation with ashton about the snack options available and what he wanted. you and your sister smiled in their direction and turned to each other to resume your own conversation.

“girl, i can’t thank you enough for this. i hate that it had to be so last minute, but you know that i got—”

you interrupted your sister, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder with a small smile on your face.

“it’s okay, sis. you know that nic and i got you, through and through. life happened and we’re gonna help you as you keep going for your life and your family, so it’s no issue.”

she nods silently to receive your kind words and you both got a bit watery eyed and sniffled before composing yourselves.

“you’re right. i’m just trying to do what’s best for ashton, y/n. i swear when life hits me right one day, i’m gonna be able to return the favor for you and nicholas .” she gives you a cheeky grin and shoots a wink towards your way as the warm heat of embarrassment rise on your brown cheeks. you stood there stunned as she chuckled and shifted the purse on her shoulder.

“it’s okay, n/n. that’s a call that both you and nicholas have to make first, but know i got you like you got me when i had the munchkin.” you give each other one last hug, not without her giving you a few more key reminders regarding ashton’s care and the time she’ll be back before she heads to the driveway and exits in her vehicle.

you remembered three years ago when he was just born. you and nicholas had just started dating and he couldn’t help, but look at you with pride and joy at your excitement for your sister’s firstborn. ever since you two were little girls, you’d both dream of finding your respective prince charmings and happily growing a family of your own. boy, do dreams come true. ashton’s a little boy with the biggest personality. he’s silly, curious, intelligent, rambunctious, loved playing basketball, talking about his favorite superheroes, and not to mention the cutest little boy you’ve ever seen! he was a perfect mix of his parents, which was bittersweet considering the fact that his father had passed away from a car accident a year ago. it was an event that was truly life altering for your sister as she had to navigate life as a widow and a single parent. she had to pick up longer hours to keep the house, get counseling for her and ashton, and most of your family showed up before and during the funeral, but after a month, the phone calls and texts stopped coming. not you and nicholas, though. your older sister being the rock she is has supported you in happiness and heartbreak throughout childhood and adolescence, so it’s only right that you return that same love and kindness towards her and ashton, who you’ve sometimes seen as your own child.

you close the door and follow the same direction the boys walked to the kitchen. you stumble in to see a sight that almost puts your ovaries in danger of jumping your fiancé’s bones. his tall figure is standing in front of the counter, chatting it up and happily chopping up a food you can’t clearly see while ashton is clinging on to his leg like how a koala clings to a eucalyptus tree while gazing up at your giant of a fiancé with an attentive and expectant expression on his little face. you stare like a lovesick dope, watching nicholas laugh at something ashton said, putting away the knife he was using in a safe area away from the child and scooping the now diced assortment of fruit into two bowls. a smirk plays on your full lips as you cross your arms and lean up against the doorway of the kitchen before you speak.

“what are my favorite boys up to? it sounds like you’ve started the party without me.” you giggle when they simultaneously turn their heads in the direction of your voice. ashton taps nicholas’ leg and holds out his hands.

“uncle nic, can i bring ti-ti her snack?” he asks in the most polite manner.

nicholas nods, taking one bowl of fruit in his large hands and slowly squats to ashton’s level.

“of course, buddy! just remember to hold it with two hands and walk to ti-ti, okay?”

“mm-hmm!” his curls bounce as he nods before he does exactly what he’s told. you both beam as his little feet gingerly waddle from nicholas to you with two caring hands holding the bowl of fruit salad. he stops in front of you and beholds the snack for you to take.

“here you go, ti-ti. i picked the fruit you like and uncle nic cut it!” ashton cheerfully spoke, flashing his newly grown baby teeth.

your heart pounded in your chest before you squatted down to take the bowl. you ran your hand through his soft hair and kissed your nephew on his cheek.

“aw, thank you so much, bookie!” you playfully roll eyes hearing nicholas clear his throat in the background, signaling that he wants to hear praise from you as well.

“and you too, my love.” your brown eyes meet his briefly before your focus shifts back to your nephew.

“you did such a great job by listening and being careful. we’re so proud of you!”

you nod in approval and take a few bites of fruit. ashton bashfully giggles when he hears his uncle nicholas chime in with a whooping applause and jogs up to you both with another fruit bowl in his hand.

“alright, ash! you nailed it. bring it in, dude.” nicholas hypes up the smiling boy and brings his large fist down to ashton for his tiny one to bump against before he gives ashton the bowl for him to take. he’s already picking up an apple slice and biting into the fruit with glee.

“what do we say to uncle nic, bookie?” you question, peering at the eating toddler.

he swallows the food before answering,

“thank you!”

nicholas receives it with a small smile and gently runs his hand through ashton’s hair.

“you’re welcome, ash. whatever you need, you know that ti-ti and i will get it for you.”

you stand up from your crouching position.

“ashton, i gotta do your hair really quick, okay? remember when you had your hair in those braids and little ponytail? that’s what your mommy wants me to do, so you ready?”

ashton nods and pops a blueberry in his mouth.

“mm-hm. just don’t do it tight, ti-ti, it hurt.” his tone shifts to a tone of disdain and you can’t blame him. you remember back in the day when your sister used to braid your hair and you always complained that she did it too tight and she always would retort that you were “tender headed”. you didn’t want to keep up that argument any longer, so you just asked her to teach you the basics of styling your own hair. after some weekly braiding tutorials on a bratz doll head, you were straight.

“i swear, bookie. i’m not gonna braid it too tight. you’re gonna relax, watch tv, and eat while i do your hair. i pinky promise.” you held up your pinky finger and brought it to ashton’s small figure. you knew you gained his trust when he nodded and wrapped his pinky around yours, establishing your agreement. you peer up to nicholas who stood there watching the whole thing with a simpering smile.

“babe, you and ash get settled on the couch while i go and get the hair stuff, okay?” you request as you start making your way upstairs to your bathroom.

“you got it, beautiful!” he called out and didn’t let you leave before placing a quick peck to your lips to which ashton playfully gagged, causing nicholas to laugh and scoop up the boy in his arms.

“aw, don’t be like that, man! i gotta show ti-ti some love, too. come on, bud, tell me what want to watch and uncle nic will put it on for you. you like netflix? disney+?” the boys seat themselves comfortably on the sofa as they explore the many options on the tv with nicholas pressing the remote to find a show for his (already but future) nephew.

while you were gathering the products needed for ashton’s hair, the boys focus on the children’s television show that ashton selected for a few minutes. he even offers nicholas some pieces of his fruit bowl which he gratefully accepts. nicholas wasn’t hungry by any means, but who was he to deny a three year old with such good manners and an adorable, little face?

“uncle nic?” ashton’s voice broke the silence.

“what’s up, ashton?” nicholas’ brown eyes pulled from the tv to the toddler beside him.

“why do you always kiss ti-ti like that? is that nasty?” the boy tilts his head up to meet nicholas’ eyes and his brows furrow with curiosity. nicholas couldn’t help, but to chuckle before giving him an honest answer.

“i kiss her to show that i love her and i promise it’s not nasty, it’s pretty sweet actually. like candy.” nicholas was speaking straight from the heart as a small smile curved on his features, his cheeks tinted with the color of a rose as his mind went back to you. he noticed how ashton’s face turned from confusion to amazement.

“i like candy! so if i give ti-ti a kiss to show that i love her, i taste candy?”

nicholas admired the innocence of this boy. he knew that ashton had to be protected at all costs. he nods before responding,

“yeah, that’s exactly right, buddy! how about you give it a try when she comes back? you done with that?” nicholas points to the now empty bowl in ashton’s little hands. ashton looks down at the bowl and nods his head, giving nicholas his cue to take the bowl to the kitchen, wash it out, place it in the cabinet, and return to the living room. he walks in to see you return with a clear plastic box with what seemed to be a detangling comb, gel, hair ties, and an assortment of more hair products that you placed on the cushion. as nicholas returns to his seat, you take a fluffy pillow from the couch and place it down on the floor for ashton to sit on.

“ti-ti’s back, bookie! sit on the pillow, so i can do your hair.” you say, pointing at the pillow on the floor.

“wait i gotta do something first, ti-ti!” your nephew protests and moves closer to you.

“what is it, honey?” what you didn’t expect was for ashton to hug you tightly around your neck which you immediately hugged him back before he places a big whopping kiss on your cheek. he pulls back and smacks his lips as if he was trying to taste something.

“why are you doing your lips like that, ashton? is there something on my face?” you ask touching your face confused as all get out and then you hear nicholas snickering behind you. what has he put this boy up to?

“i’m trying to taste candy because uncle nic said that giving you kisses taste like candy! right, uncle nic?”

him and nicholas burst in laughter as you take the pillow from the floor and playfully whack your fiancé with it before laughing yourself, shaking your head as heat rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“you both are a mess! nicholas alexander chavez, i’ma get you later, but as for you, bookie—” you lunge to scoop the boy in your arms and your fingers move rapidly on his sides. the melodies of your nephew’s hysterical laughter fill the room for a few seconds and you cease your tickling. you all take a moment to catch your breath and you put the pillow back on the floor again before instructing ashton to sit down which he happily obliges to. you roll up your sleeves, grab the detangling cream and comb, and you start the process of getting out all of the knots at the ends. nicholas watches you attentively as you glide the coconut scented cream through your nephew’s scalp. you ask him to pass you the braiding gel out of the box as you section ashton’s hair for the desired style. nicholas hands you what you need and his eyes focus on how your fingers move like clockwork within ashton’s dark, coily tresses.

whenever ashton whined a bit in pain, you and nicholas reassured him that you were being as quick and gentle as possible. within the next thirty minutes, you were done! the braids looked so fresh and neat. you took out your phone and captured a picture of ashton’s side profile and sent it your sister. you gave ashton a hand held mirror for him to gaze upon his new look and the expression on his face made your heart swell.

“what do you think, bookie? you like it?” you ask, grinning and watching him walk around with his face still in the mirror before he stops to look at nicholas with expectant doe eyes.

“i like it! do you like it, uncle nic?”

with a prideful grin, your fiancé stood grand and tall, scooping ashton up in his arms and placing him on his hip.

“ash, i say this with all honesty. you look better than me.”

“really!?” ashton playfully gasped as he wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck.

“really, really! you look so handsome, buddy. babe, would you take our picture, please?” he pulls out his phone from his pocket and hands it over to you. you don’t hesitate to nod and open the camera, waiting for your boys to get into a pose with cheesy smiles on their faces. you count to three and snap the picture before repeating the process several times and giving nicholas his phone back.

“don’t forget to send those to me, so s/n can get them.” you say, cleaning up the tiny mess you made and put the items back to where they belong before you come back to them. you all decide it would be great to get some fresh air at the park which was a two minute walk away from your place. after changing into some active wear and grabbing ashton’s backpack, you all exit your house and take the brief stroll to your destination. once you’ve entered to the playground area, nicholas volunteers to keep an eye on ashton while he plays and you watch from a distance while sitting on the bench. the park had some people there, but it wasn’t too much of a crowd. you take pictures and videos as you watch your fiancé and nephew bond. your heart skipped a beat when you see ashton go down a slide with nicholas ready to pick him up in his arms as soon as he came to the end or when nicholas guided ashton’s small hanging body across the monkey bars as his palms gripped each bar.

he’s so good with him. i wonder what would it be like if—

as if your mind was being read, you didn’t notice the older woman that sat beside you on the bench because you were hypnotized by the display of cuteness in front of you.

“is that your husband and son? if so, they are just adorable! i miss those days so much. you’re one lucky young lady.”

you were a bit bashful due to your daydreaming, but you got yourself together promptly and indulged in the conversation.

“aw, thank you! that’s actually my fiancé with my nephew, but with the way they are around each other, i don’t blame you for thinking that at all. it’s funny because i was just thinking about, you know, starting a family. i’ve been with that man for five years and i never thought i’d love him even more when i see him bond with my family, especially the little ones.”

“that’s because that’s his family too, dear. he’s going to fit right in as soon as you both tie the knot.” you turn your face to hers, there was an aura of benevolence and wisdom that reminded you of your late grandmother and oh, how you missed her so. you nod in agreement before resuming the conversation,

“you’re so right. when you put it like that, my nephew has called him ‘uncle nic’ for a whole year before we got engaged. i guess that just solidified everything!” you both create small talk for a few more minutes before the kind woman bids you a goodbye to venture on the walking trail. it wasn’t long before ashton and nicholas approach you to announce they want to shoot some hoops at the park’s basketball court. you agree before giving ashton and nicholas a water bottle and you all take the short journey to an empty basketball court. the park provided the balls for the community, so nicholas took one for him and ashton to have a little one v. one on the court. you lean up against the wired fence, observing your nephew dribbling the basketball up and down while his little legs speed past your fiancé. nicholas picks him up to let him face the goal. with the aid of nicholas’ six foot stature, ashton was able to shoot and get the ball through the net.

“he shoots, he scores! it’s nothing but net and the crowd goes wild for the mvp, ashton!” nicholas exclaims and places your triumphant nephew on his shoulders. he gazes at your figure and you took that as your cue to cheer, chant, and clap for ashton as if you were in a packed stadium.

“GO, BOOKIE, GO! GO, BOOKIE, GO!” you run up to them both, placing a chaste kiss on nicholas’ lips and taking ashton in your arms to give him a shower of kisses on his sweaty face.

“did you see me, ti-ti, did you see me?!” he excitedly questioned.

“yeah, i did! you did great. if you keep practicing, your mommy might put you on a real basketball team one day when you’re bigger.”

speaking of showers, you tell the boys it’s time to wrap it up here at the park. you suggest that after a wash up, you’d get some food, and enjoy some disney movies until it was time for ashton to be picked up as his mother was going to come back in a few short hours. once, you gather your belongings, you walk carrying the backpack and nicholas, carrying an exhausted and hungry ashton on his back. once you make it back to your home, you and nicholas complete your tasks to finish the day out. you take ashton to your bathroom to give him a bath to save your sister that time while nicholas goes out to grab the food. after his bath, you change ashton in a fresh set of clothes before you take him to the living room to pick out a movie to watch. you sit in comfortable silence, clicking the remote and you hear a little voice call out from beside you.

“ti-ti?”

“yes, bookie?” you quickly select a movie from the despicable me series and turn to your inquisitive nephew.

“where’s uncle nic?”

“he went to get us something to eat, love.”

“is he coming back? i really like him and i feel a little sad when he’s not here. just like how i feel sad when i don’t see you.” you knew he was asking that because of the obvious absence of his father. it made you so happy that nicholas was an exemplary man ashton looked up to, but what broke your heart is that ashton finally realized that when someone he loves is gone, he has an uncertainty of their return. no child younger than five should feel like that, let alone any child at all. you wrap an arm around his tiny body and place a kiss atop of his head. it was time to lighten the mood.

“how much you wanna bet uncle nic is getting your favorite?”

the glint of gloom in ashton’s eyes switched moods and his head perked up.

“he got me mcdonald’s!?”

you both turn your heads at the sound of the lock clicking and the door creaking open.

“mcdonald’s delivery!”

as if timing weren’t perfect enough, nicholas walked through the front door with a large mcdonald’s bag and a cup holder tray with three drinks. you leave the couch only to help him with the load by bringing the food and drinks onto the coffee table. ashton eyes gawked as he watched nicholas take out an assortment of burgers, fries, and nuggets before you all sit and indulge in the fast food. you hit play on the movie and watch the film as you eat. within an hour and a half, you and ashton were cuddled up against nicholas’ shield of a chest, you both lovingly watched as your nephew dozed off to sleep, his soft snores accompanied with the audio of the movie that was still playing the background. it was interrupted by the sound of a car horn tooting from out front. you yawned and knew it was your sister.

“you want me to carry everything to the car while you talk to s/n, baby?” nicholas whispered, his soft yet intense brown gaze held your sleepy one.

he grinned at your response of a nod before you both gingerly move, careful not to wake up ashton as you both walked him to his mother’s awaiting car. he can get pretty cranky when his sleep is disturbed and lord knows your sister didn’t want that after a long shift. nicholas opens the back door of the car and carefully places ashton in his booster seat. it didn’t take him long to figure out how to safely strap him in and he softly shuts the door. he circled around to the drivers side to wrap an arm around your waist as you talk to your sister.

“so how was he? it looked like ya’ll did a lot today, huh?” your sister inquired and glances to her knocked out son in the back seat and shifts her focus back to you guys.

“he was great! no trouble at all. i braided down his hair and after that, we took him out to the park where he kicked nicholas’ tail in some hoops. he’s already had a bath and something to eat, so you don’t have to worry about that, sis.” you all chuckle, your lips graciously smile and you wrap your own arm around nicholas’ sculpted torso. he peers down at you with affection in his eyes at your touch. you don’t notice it, but your sister does, and she couldn’t be happier for you both.

“aww, well i appreciate you both so much for watching him! y/n, remember that talk we had about me returning the favor because you know i got you.”

she points and shoots you a wink. nicholas chuckles watching you cover your face with embarrassment. after the laughter and chatting dies down, your sister bids you and nicholas a goodbye before pulling off. with your hands joined together, you and nicholas walk back into your home. you both take time to tidy up the living room before retiring to your own bedroom. nicholas lays in the bed in nothing, but a chain and grey sweatpants with his hands behind his head. his brown eyes burn into your figure as you slip out of your previous clothes and change into a pair of his boxers and one of his oversized t-shirts. you’ve been with him for five years and you still feel bashful under his intense gaze. you dig in your drawer to find your black satin bonnet and you easily slip it on your head as you saunter to the bed and lay your body up against his, your arms wrapped around his neck and your head on his shoulders. his large arms find themselves to embrace you, one of his hands hold on to your thigh to bring your leg up across his waist.

you both lay there in comfortable silence to catch your breaths from such an exhilarating day. you break the silence with a whisper,

“you’re really good with ashton, you know. i just wanted you to know that.”

“i appreciate it, doll and he loves you so much. i love you so much.”

he softly declares, placing a peck to your forehead, cheek, and earlobe. he stops to peer into your eyes then your lips and into your eyes again, silently asking permission to go further. you smile with a nod before you reach up to guide your lips to his, he holds your waist to pull you right on top of him as you both continue to give each other’s lips the longing, passionate kisses you’ve both been waiting for all day. a hum vibrates in your chest when his teeth gently pull at your pouty bottom lip out for him to release it and bounce it back to it’s original place. after a minute or two of indulging in each other, you both pull away to lay in your original position, now with swollen lips and shallow breaths.

“i love you too by the way.” you place a peck on his bare chest where his heart is.

“babe, i got a question. why did you and s/n talk about returning a favor or something?”

the heat of embarrassment rose on your earth toned face, he was no dummy, so it was only fair he was going to catch on.

“what she meant was that one day she would like to do the babysitting—you know, for us, when we–” you paused. the volume of your voice diminished with each word.

“have kids?” nicholas finished the sentence. still avoiding his eyes, you give a small smile and nod confirming his answer.

“yeah.”

“hey, hey. look at me.” his pointer finger finds itself under your chin to lift your eyes to meet his sincere gaze.

“if you’re thinking in that beautiful brain of yours that one day i want to start a family with you, then you’re absolutely right. spending that time with you and ashton had me thinking that if we’re this good at being ti-ti and uncle nic, what would it be like if we were mom and dad?”

you couldn’t help, but to laugh with excitement while putting your hands in your face. he pulled you in so close and showered your face with kisses.

“nope! don’t hide that beautiful face away from me. the same face that i’ll see at that altar and the same face i’ll see on our future children!”

“okay, okay! i give!” you let out giggle and give him a chaste kiss before pulling from his grip.

“so you want a baby with me?” you ask just one more time to make sure you weren’t dreaming. he lays another kiss on you. this kiss was sincere, a confirmation. he pulled back and gazed into your eyes.

“i wouldn’t want anything more with anyone else. does that answer your question?”

you nod and pull the duvet over you both.

“so, should we start trying?” nicholas seductively inquires in your ear after he scoots up behind you, caressing the melanated skin of your thigh.

“nah.” you answered with a dry tone before shutting off the light and pulling the cover over your body. nicholas was gagged. you guess he forgot what you said earlier when he played that little “candy kisses” trick on your nephew.

“come on, baby. whatever i did please let me make it up to you by making you a mommy, hm?” he playfully whined with a pout.

“uh-uh. i told you i was gonna get you! you can make it up to me when you’re off punishment.”

“now, how long would that be?”

“goodnight, nicholas.” you ruffle his hair and chuckled at him sucking his teeth as you nuzzled deeper within the covers.

“y/n!”

[klipkillakai]

oh yeah.. oh yeah… i need to FUCK

[nicholaschavezobsessed]

Late Night Kisses.

Disclaimer: I am not a writer! This is my first piece of work, so I hope it's good!

Warnings: swearing, suggestive language and actions (lol) fluff.

Nicholas Chavez x fem!plus sized reader

The moonlight shines in through the blinds, illuminating you and your boyfriend's uncovered legs tangled together. Your eyes slowly flutter open, your head instantly snapping towards the man sleeping peacefully next to you. You move in closer, hand gently caressing the exposed half of his face, a smile forming on his face before opening his eyes.

"You're staring again..." he mumbles softly as he shifts closer to you. "Well, it is a nice sight to wake up to," you laugh softly as Nicholas's hands find their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"It's me that should be staring then." He buries his face in the crook of your neck, gently pressing kisses to your skin. A sigh escapes your lips as you lean your head back slightly, exposing your neck more to him. "Nicholas...." Your voice trails off as he gently grazes his teeth against your collarbone, shivers running down your spine.

He sits up, hands sliding down to your waist, a lazy grin on his lips as he throws the covers over himself. His soft kisses leading a trail down your body, paying extra attention to your thighs. "God, you're so fucking perfect."

Your hands tangle in his hair, gently giving it a tug as he nips at your skin. "Guess neither of us are going back to sleep." A giggle escaping your lips as you toss the blankets off the both of you, his eyes darting up to meet yours, a smirk evident on his lips as he traces your curves.

[winxanity-ii]

DAMNED DEVOTION [3/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 ( m. receiving oral/handjob; fem. receiving oral; p in v; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos; breeding kink; degradation/praise kink; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery ) word count: 5.4k a/n: ahhh, i can't believe i finally finished the final part to this little 'devotion' piece. to thank you all for following along with this series i may have gone a little filthy 😅 also, don't know if you guys care to know, but it's my twin (@k-nayee) and i's 20th birthday today, wheeewwww 🎉🥳! i'll see you all in the next update, and don't be afraid to shoot an ask/request or check out my other works! this is a continuation of my previous one-shotS, '𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍' and '𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.' If you haven't read those yet, I recommend starting there to understand the progression of their relationship….

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

It was a bright afternoon, the sun hanging high in the sky, its rays filtering through the branches of the old oak tree that stood at the edge of the courtyard. The air smelled fresh, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the distant murmur of conversation.

A group of young nuns-in-training, dressed in their modest habits, sat on the grass, their voices soft with laughter. You were among them, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you, your Bible open in your lap, a pencil in your hand as you made notes from the earlier service.

The warmth of the sun on your skin made you feel content, almost peaceful, and you were momentarily lost in thought, the words on the page blurring slightly as your mind wandered.

"Sister ____!" a voice called, breaking through your concentration.

You looked up, startled, to see one of the younger nuns smiling at you, her eyes bright with curiosity. She had a round face, still clinging to the softness of her youth, her cheeks flushed from the sun. Her name was Sister Olive, and she was always one of the more talkative ones, her energy infectious among the group.

"Yes?" you replied, giving her a gentle smile. The group of nuns-in-training giggled amongst themselves, their eyes flickering between you and something—or rather someone—further down the courtyard path.

You followed their gaze and saw Father Charlie walking alongside another priest, his expression focused, his hands clasped behind his back.

The sun seemed to catch on his features, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the soft waves of his hair. He looked every bit the holy man, yet there was an undeniable handsomeness to him, something that drew eyes wherever he went.

Sister Olive leaned forward, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sister ____, does Father Charlie have a wife?"

Your brows furrowed slightly, confused by the question. "Pardon?" you asked, blinking as you looked back at her.

The group broke into another fit of giggles, Sister Olive glancing towards Father Charlie again before continuing. "I heard that priests can be married if they were married before being ordained..." she trailed off, her tone curious, her gaze turning back to you. "I just wondered if Father Charlie was ever married. He seems like he could be, doesn't he?"

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at the implication, and you quickly shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. "No, Sister Olive, he isn't married," you answered, your tone soft but firm.

The young nuns exchanged glances, and another wave of giggles spread through the group, their laughter light and full of the innocence of youth.

Sister Olive sighed dramatically, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Ah, I thought so. He's too serious to have a wife, don't you think? But still... he's quite handsome."

You swallowed, glancing back towards Father Charlie, who was now nearing the edge of the courtyard, his eyes scanning the area as if searching for something—or someone.

You quickly looked away, your heart fluttering in your chest, a strange mixture of emotions churning within you. You knew you shouldn't think of him in that way, shouldn't let the words of the younger nuns affect you, but it was impossible not to.

The memory of his touch, his voice, the way he had looked at you in the confessional—it all came rushing back, making your pulse quicken, your hands trembling slightly as you closed your Bible.

A second later, a shadow fell over the group; the young nuns quickly quieted, their giggles turning into soft murmurs. Looking up, you saw Father Charlie standing before you, a small, knowing grin on his lips.

His eyes locked onto yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your breath catch. He gave a short, polite bow of his head. "Good morning, Sister ____," he said, his voice smooth, almost gentle, before his gaze shifted to the rest of the group. "Good morning, sisters."

The young nuns responded in unison, their voices a mix of giggles and greetings. You looked down at your Bible, mumbling a quiet, "Good morning, Father Charlie," along with the others, your face heating up under his watchful eyes.

You thought that was the end of it, that he would move on and let you be, but then he spoke again, his voice calling your name.

"Sister ____," he said, his tone still polite, but there was something in it that made your heart skip a beat. "I was hoping I could have your assistance with preparing for next week's sermon. I need some help organizing the notes and scriptures. Would you be able to spare a moment?"

You felt your heart race, already knowing that this was a lie, that his request had little to do with the sermon and everything to do with the tension that lingered between you.

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile, nodding as you closed your Bible and rose to your feet. "Of course, Father," you replied, turning to the young nuns. "I'll see you all later."

They nodded, their eyes wide with curiosity as they watched you walk away with Father Charlie. He led you across the courtyard, his pace measured, his hands clasped behind his back.

You followed him in silence, your heart pounding, your mind racing with a mix of anticipation and fear.

He brought you to the sacristy—a room in the church where sacred objects and vestments were kept and prepared for use during rituals.

The room was medium-sized, its thick concrete walls lined with shelves that held ornate chalices, gilded candlesticks, and other sacred items. A large wooden table stood in the center, covered with cloth and a few open books, the sunlight streaming through the small window, casting a warm glow over the space.

The air smelled faintly of incense, the scent comforting yet heavy, reminding you of the solemnity of the church.

You turned around just in time to see Father Charlie shut the door, the soft click of the lock echoing in the quiet room.

Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat as he turned back to you, his eyes dark, filled with something you couldn't quite name—something that made your pulse quicken, your hands trembling slightly at your sides.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself, and turned back around, your eyes roaming over the various sacred objects lining the shelves. You busied yourself by adjusting the cloth on the table, pretending to study the items, anything to keep yourself distracted from the tension filling the room.

You could feel him behind you, his presence heavy, the air thick with something unspoken.

A shudder ran through you as you felt his hands on your shoulders, his fingers rubbing gently against the fabric of your habit, caressing your shoulders with a slow, deliberate touch. You closed your eyes, trying to suppress the tremble that ran through your body, your breath catching in your throat.

"F-Father Charlie..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before you could say anything more, he spun you around, his hands firm on your shoulders. His eyes were intense, dark, filled with a hunger that made your knees weak. His face was inches from yours, and you could see the way his pupils were blown wide; his lips parted slightly as he looked at you.

"Shhh," he murmured, one of his hands moving up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but there was an intensity behind it that made your heart race. His gaze bore into yours, and for a moment, you felt like you were caught, trapped in the depth of his eyes, unable to look away.

You took a shaky step back, your eyes dropping to the floor as you tried to gather your thoughts. You turned away from him, your hands gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles white as you spoke, your voice trembling. "Father, I... I find myself at war. What we... what we have, it's wrong. It's against everything we believe in, everything we stand for. I can't... we can't keep doing this."

You heard him let out a soft, frustrated sigh, and a second later, his hands were on you again, spinning you around to face him. There was a tension in his jaw; his eyes narrowed slightly, frustration evident in the way he looked at you.

"No," he said, his voice firm, his gaze intense as he held you in place. "No, Sister. You're wrong. This... what we have, it's not wrong. It's not some sin that we need to be ashamed of." His voice softened slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Do you think the love between Jesus and Mary Magdalene was wrong? Do you think He loved her any less because of who she was? Love is not something to be condemned, not when it's real... not when it consumes you the way this consumes me."

His voice dropped lower, almost a groan, his eyes darkening as he stepped closer, his chest brushing against yours. "You have no idea what you do to me. The way you look at me, the way you move, the way you speak—it's made me delirious. I can't think of anything else but you; I can't focus on anything but this need, this hunger for you. You've taken hold of me, body and soul, and I can't... I can't let you go."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing at the intensity of his gaze, the raw need in his voice. You could feel your resolve crumbling, the conflict within you fading beneath the weight of his confession, the depth of his longing.

"Please," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly, a desperate edge to his words. "Please, just let me have you, one last time. If you're sure—if you really mean it, I'll let you go. But please... just one more time."

A soft, almost mousy, "Okay," left your lips before you could stop yourself, the word barely audible, but it was all he needed.

In an instant, he was on you, his lips crashing against yours, his hands pulling you close, his fingers digging into your waist as he kissed you with a hunger that took your breath away.

Your steps staggered back, your body unsteady as he moved with you, following you, his lips never leaving yours. Your back hit the edge of the table, and he pressed against you, his body warm, his touch insistent, his kiss deepening as his tongue slipped into your mouth, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.

His hands moved to your hips, lifting you slightly as he guided you onto the table, his lips trailing down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You could feel the intensity of his need, the way his body pressed against yours, his hands exploring, claiming, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

His fingers were frantic as they pushed up your habit, his touch rough, almost desperate. His lips never left your skin, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, across your chest.

You could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts, his need evident in every hurried movement, every touch. He kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours, swallowing your soft moans as his hands moved beneath the fabric, lifting it higher, his touch hot against your bare skin.

You gasped when he dropped to his knees before you, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, his hands holding your legs apart. Just as he was about to continue, you panicked slightly, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping them tightly. "W-Wait," you stuttered, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

Charlie looked up at you, his gaze questioning, his breath hot against your thighs. His eyes were dark, filled with desire, and his lips were parted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

You swallowed, licking your lips nervously as you avoided his gaze, your fingers still gripping his shoulders. "I... you always... I mean, you always... please me with your mouth," you stammered, your face growing hot, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I was wondering if... if I could... return the favor?"

Your words were awkward, your innocence clear in the way you spoke, the way your eyes flickered everywhere but at him. You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, your voice going quiet. "I mean... if you want, Father..." You finally forced yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes wide, nervous, and hopeful.

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension. You began to worry that you had said something wrong, that you had crossed some line, but then Charlie let out a low groan, his hands tightening on your thighs, his head dropping against them. He muttered something, his voice muffled, and you barely caught the words, "Are you truly an angel, or a devil sent to test me?"

He stood slowly, his hands sliding up your thighs as he rose, his eyes never leaving yours. When he reached you, he cupped your face, pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss. His lips moved slowly against yours, his tongue teasing, tasting, and when he finally pulled away, he left a soft peck against your lips. His eyes were softer now, the intensity replaced with something gentler, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip, his touch tender.

Then, his expression shifted, his eyes darkening, a low, commanding tone entering his voice as he spoke. "Get on your knees," he said, his voice almost a growl.

You felt a shiver run through you, your body reacting instinctively to his words. You stared up at him, your heart pounding, your pulse quickening as you saw the way his eyes had darkened, the hunger there almost overwhelming. His breathing was shallow, his gaze so intense it made your knees weak.

Slowly, you moved, slipping off the table, your feet touching the ground as you lowered yourself to your knees before him. You didn't break eye contact as you descended, your gaze locked on his, the intensity of the moment making your heart pound.

There was something electric in the air, something that made your skin tingle, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

Father Charlie's eyes were dark, his gaze fixed on you, his lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling as he watched you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension between you almost unbearable.

You knelt there, looking up at him, your hands resting on your thighs, waiting, anticipating.

Slowly, Charlie's hands moved beneath his robes, the rustling of fabric almost deafening in the silence of the room. You heard the soft clink of his belt buckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

Your eyes widened slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you watched him, expecting him to pull his robes up and over his waist, but instead, he began slipping off the entire robe, his movements slow, deliberate.

Your gaze was drawn to his chest as the robe slid off his shoulders, revealing smooth, tanned skin, the muscles beneath rippling with each movement. He pulled the robe over his head, his arms flexing, the fabric falling to the floor behind him.

Your eyes trailed down his body, taking in every inch of him—the broadness of his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell, the dark hair that started at his navel and led downward, disappearing beneath the waistband of his unbuckled trousers.

There was a dark line of hair, a happy trail that made your breathing stutter, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

Charlie's eyes never left yours as he reached down, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch gentle, almost affectionate. His thumb caressed the bottom of your face before his hand shifted, his fingers gently squeezing your cheeks until your lips puckered slightly. His eyes darkened, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"Pull it out," he said, his voice low, almost a growl. He dropped his hand away, his gaze heavy as he watched you.

With shaking hands, you reached up, your fingers trembling as they found the button of his trousers. You fumbled for a moment, your breath shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

You unbuttoned his trousers, your fingers brushing against the zipper, pulling it down slowly, the sound loud in the quiet room. You tugged the fabric down his hips, the trousers falling to his ankles.

Your eyes widened as you saw the large bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers, the outline of him clear, the sight making your breath hitch. Slowly, you reached forward, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, your gaze fixed on him.

His length sprang free, bobbing slightly before settling against his thigh. You couldn't help but stare, taking him in. The veins along his length stood out, thick and prominent, the head flushed a deep pink, glistening slightly.

You swallowed hard, your eyes tracing every inch of him, the reality of it sinking in. He was bigger than you remembered, the sheer size of him making your breath catch, your heart pounding even harder.

That... that was inside me...

Your cheeks flushed at the memory, the thought of it making your thighs press together, heat pooling in your belly.

"Sister," Charlie's voice broke through your thoughts, his tone soft but commanding. Your eyes snapped up, meeting his gaze, his dark eyes watching you intently. There was something in his expression, a mixture of desire and tenderness that made your breath catch. "Give me your hand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated for only a moment before you extended your hand to him, your fingers trembling slightly. He took it gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, and you watched as his other hand moved down his chest, his fingers gliding over his smooth skin, tracing the lines of his muscles before finally wrapping around his length.

He let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling as he began to stroke himself, his thumb rubbing over the sensitive tip. His eyes never left yours, watching your reaction, his lips parted as he sucked in a breath, a shudder running through his body.

The sight made your mouth go dry, your eyes widening as you watched him, unable to look away. After a few seconds, he shuddered your name, his voice rough, needy. "Touch me," he panted, his eyes half-lidded, his gaze filled with desire.

You allowed him to guide your hand, wrapping your fingers around him, his own hand covering yours, his grip firm. A low, broken moan left his lips at the contact, his head tilting back slightly, his eyes closing for a moment.

You could feel the warmth of him, the way he twitched in your hand, the weight of him almost overwhelming.

Sitting up on your knees, you moved closer, your other hand resting on his strong thigh to steady yourself. Your thumb unconsciously brushed against his leg, the muscles tensing beneath your touch as you focused on holding him in your hand.

You looked up at him, your eyes questioning, unsure of what to do next. Charlie's gaze dropped to meet yours, his thumb reaching out to pull down your bottom lip, his eyes darkening as he dipped it into your mouth for a brief moment. He let out a soft sigh, his voice almost a whisper. "Open wider," he instructed, his eyes fixed on you. "Drop your tongue, just like you're about to eat a popsicle."

You followed his instructions, your jaw dropping open, your tongue hanging out slightly, your eyes still locked on his. He hummed in approval, guiding your hand up, moving his length towards your awaiting tongue.

The tip of him brushed against your tongue, the taste salty, musky, as he rubbed the head across the surface, letting out an appreciative hum. He did this for a few seconds, his eyes watching every reaction you made, his lips curling into a small smile.

Slowly, he pushed himself further into your mouth, just an inch or two, his breath hitching as he watched you. "Close your lips around it," he murmured, his voice strained. "Suck."

You closed your mouth around him, your lips sealing around the head of his length, your tongue pressing against the underside. He let out a deep groan, his hand moving to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you in place. "Just like that," he whispered, his voice thick hoarse. "That's it... good girl."

You began to suck gently, your cheeks hollowing as you moved your head slightly, taking him in just a bit more. The taste of him filled your mouth, salty and slightly bitter, but not unpleasant.

His hips jerked slightly, a low moan escaping his lips as he watched you, his eyes dark, filled with lust. He guided you slowly, his hand on the back of your head setting the pace, his breathing growing more ragged with each passing moment.

"Use your tongue," he panted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Swirl it around the tip... yes, just like that." You did as he instructed, your tongue moving over the sensitive head, and he shuddered, his grip on your hair tightening, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. "God, you have no idea what you do to me," he muttered, his voice strained, his eyes locked on yours.

You continued to move, your hand stroking the base of him as you sucked, your other hand still resting on his thigh, your thumb brushing against his skin in a soothing motion.

His breaths came in short gasps, his chest heaving as he watched you, his eyes half-lidded, his lips parted. He whispered your name, his voice filled with need, his hips rocking slightly, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.

"You're perfect," he groaned, his head tilting back, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the sensation. "So good... just like that. Don't stop." His words were slurred, his voice thick with pleasure, and you could feel him throbbing in your mouth, the taste of him growing stronger as he neared his peak.

His hips began to move more, his breathing turning into short, desperate gasps, his hand guiding you, holding you in place as he chased his release. He muttered your name, his voice breaking, a mixture of moans and whispered praises filling the room as he lost himself to the pleasure.

When he finally came, the taste of him filled your mouth, his hips jerking, a deep groan escaping his lips as he held you there, his fingers tangled in your hair. He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked down at you, his eyes dark, filled with something raw, something possessive.

Charlie reached down, his hand wrapping around your arm, pulling you up from your knees with a strength that left you breathless. He yanked you into a kiss, his lips crashing against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, tasting himself on your tongue.

He groaned against your lips, his hand moving to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he devoured you, his kiss deep, consuming. His tongue moved against yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled back slightly, licking across your lips before placing a softer, lingering kiss there.

He pulled away, his eyes locking onto yours, a small, satisfied smile on his lips. Without a word, he lifted you, settling you back onto the table, his hands pushing up your habit, his gaze dropping between your legs as he knelt before you once again. "I need to prep you," he murmured, his voice husky, his hands sliding up your thighs.

His fingers reached between your legs, expecting to find the fabric of your underwear, but instead, they came in contact with your soaked folds. He let out a surprised sound, his eyes shooting up to meet yours, a brow raised in question. You released a huff, your cheeks flushing as you looked away, muttering, "It's laundry day..."

Charlie let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly, his lips curling into an amused smile. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your knee before his hands moved to push your thighs further apart, the stretch making your muscles burn slightly, the sensation both uncomfortable and thrilling. He held your legs open, his eyes fixed on you, watching your every reaction.

Before you knew it, his mouth was on you, his lips pressing against your sensitive flesh, a silent gasp falling from your lips, your eyes closing, your head falling back as your back arched off the table.

The feeling of his tongue moving against you, licking, sucking, made your thighs tremble in his hold, your fingers gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.

He worshipped you with his mouth, his tongue moving with purpose, teasing your entrance, his lips closing around your clit, sucking gently.

One of his hands moved up, his fingers brushing against your entrance before slowly pushing inside, stretching you, his mouth never stopping, never hesitating. He worked you with a skill that left you breathless, every flick of his tongue, every gentle thrust of his fingers pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your orgasm built slowly, a steady climb that made your whole body tense, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Charlie seemed to know exactly where to touch, where to kiss, how to move his fingers to bring you to the brink, his name falling from your lips in a breathless whisper, your body trembling, your thighs shaking around his head.

But just as you were about to fall over the edge, just as the pleasure was about to consume you, he pulled away.

A frustrated whine escaped your lips, your eyes opening, a mixture of confusion and need in your gaze as you looked down at him. He stood slowly, his eyes dark, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watched you, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your body aching for release.

Charlie licked his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached up, his fingers tilting your head back, exposing the line of your neck to him. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss just below your jaw, his breath warm against your skin. His other hand moved to wrap one of your legs around his waist, his fingers digging into your thigh as he held you against him, his body pressed tightly to yours.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Don't worry, Sister," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'll fill you back up and give you what you need." The words sent a shiver down your spine, your core clenching at the promise, a whimper escaping your lips.

Charlie reached between your bodies, his hand wrapping around his length, positioning himself. He rubbed the tip against your clit, the sensation making your body jerk, a gasp falling from your lips.

He moved slowly, dragging the head of his length up and down your slit, teasing you, your body trembling in his arms, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

Then, without warning, he pushed forward, bullying his way into you, the stretch almost unbearable.

You arched further into his arms, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, your body struggling to accommodate him. He let out a deep groan, his fingers tightening on your thigh, his other hand moving to grip your hip, holding you in place as he filled you completely.

His pace was brutal, each stroke long and deep, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, his hips slamming against yours. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke, his voice low, rough, filled with need. "You... You feel so good... so tight around me," he panted, his words broken by soft moans. "I'm going to fuck you, fill you up until you can't think of anything else."

His hips snapped against yours, his movements rough, desperate, his body pressing you down against the table, his weight holding you in place. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Imagine it, Sister," he whispered, his voice dark, almost a growl. "A secret child... a product of our sin, of our blasphemy against the church." His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your core clenching around him, your body reacting to the forbidden promise, the thought of it pushing you closer to the edge.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your entire body tensing, your back arching as the pleasure consumed you, a silent scream on your lips. You could feel Charlie shudder above you, his thrusts growing erratic, his breath coming in short gasps as he chased his own release.

After a few more brutal strokes, he let out a deep groan, his hips pressing against yours as he came, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your skin.

He stayed there, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling heavily. You could feel his heart pounding against your own, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

You shivered as he began to pull back, the movement making you wince slightly, your body still sensitive from the intense pleasure.

His softening length slipped out of you, the feeling making you gasp softly, a mix of relief and emptiness settling in your chest. You felt the warm, sticky sensation as globs of his cum poured out, slowly dripping down your inner thighs.

You began to close your legs, thinking he was done, that he would put his clothes back on, but his hand stopped you, his fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, keeping you open.

Charlie lowered himself to his knees once again, his eyes fixed on you, a dark hunger still present in his gaze. Before you could understand what was happening, his mouth was on you, his lips pressing against your sensitive folds.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as you felt his tongue, warm and wet, sliding through your slickness, lapping up the mixture of your release and his own. His groans were sinful, vibrating against you, his eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the taste.

Your brain raced, unsure of what to do or what to say, your body twitching beneath his touch, your legs instinctively trying to close, still overly sensitive from your previous climax. But Charlie's hands were strong, his grip firm as he held your thighs apart, his fingers digging into your skin, keeping you open for him.

He was relentless, his tongue moving with purpose, his lips closing around your swollen clit, sucking gently, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps, your fingers gripping the edge of the table, your knuckles white. You could feel the pleasure building again, a slow, steady climb that made your whole body tense, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

You couldn't hold back the soft whimpers and moans that spilled from your lips, your head falling back, your eyes closing as the pleasure consumed you.

When you came, it hit you like a final, blinding wave, your body arching off the table, your thighs trembling in Charlie's hold. A broken cry escaped your lips, your back arching, your eyes squeezed shut.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. Your mind was clouded as the pleasure consumed you, the feeling like the flames of damnation licking at your skin. For I am burned by the fire of desire, a sinner in the eyes of heaven.

And you weren't sure if you minded at all.

A/N: ya know, i think my smut has gotten better, what do you guys think??? and to answer the upcoming question(s) i know will be asked: yes, this is the final part, i won't be continuing the 'Devotion' series/making it into a book 😔 i know, i know. i promise i want too, but knowing me, i tend to bounce around/start new projects out of nowhere, so if i didn't spend weeks planning before hand, it'll grow cold eventually, and i don't wanna put you guys through that 😩 but never fret, i will continue writing for father charlie 😝, he's just too versatile not to. see you guys soon ❤️❤️❤️.

[greengoblinswifey]

Moth to a Flame- Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself entangled with your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, despite being in a committed relationship. The chemistry between you ignites on and off set and the lines blur, leading to a heated affair.

warnings— fingering, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, cheating(reader does), praise kink, degrading kink, not proofread i fear.

a/n: this is long asf but you’ll love it, read while listening to Moth to a Flame by The. Weeknd <3

On set, the tension was palpable. The cameras were rolling for season two of the show where Nicholas and you, as the main characters, were set to film an intense love scene. The script called for his character to finally confess his desire for you, despite your on-screen character’s relationship with someone else. Ironically, it wasn’t just the characters who were tangled up in complicated feelings. In real life, you and Nicholas had crossed the same line, and it made filming the scene that much more real.

Your boyfriend, Cody, who had always been a bit uneasy about you acting alongside Nicholas, was on set that day, watching the scene unfold. The moment Nicholas delivered his line with intense conviction- “I want you, fuck your boyfriend,” It was almost like a direct hit to Cody in real life. His fists clenched, and you could feel the heat of his glare even from where you stood.

The scene continued, Nicholas's hands on your waist, pulling you close as you kissed for the first time this season. The chemistry between you both was undeniable on and off and that only seemed to infuriate your boyfriend further. Before the director could call “cut,” Cody stormed forward, clearly upset.

“Cut!” the director yelled, trying to defuse the situation. You hurried over to him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him down.

“Listen, babe, take a breather, okay? We have to do this scene. It’s just acting,” you whispered, trying to soothe his frustration. You could feel Nicholas' eyes on you from across the set, jaw clenched in irritation. He hated seeing Cody upset, especially when it came to you which was very common.

“I don’t like it,” Cody muttered, his voice low. “The way he looks at you, the way you two are-”

“Go take a walk through the city, clear your head," you interrupted softly, trying to stay professional even though the tension was real. “It’s part of the job, okay? We’re gonna take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes darting between you and Nicholas. But eventually, after a few tense moments, he gave in and turned to leave, though not without a frustrated huff. The moment he was out of earshot, you sighed, running a hand through your braids.

Nicholas approached you, his eyes dark with a mix of desire and irritation. “You okay?” he asked, though his gaze flickered toward where Cody had disappeared.

You nodded, but inside, the emotions were swirling. You were cheating on your boyfriend in the show, but the real betrayal lingered in the air, just beneath the surface.

In the next scene, the tension was still hanging in the air, and the director decided it was best to take a break. “Alright, we’re gonna pause here,” he announced. “Everyone take ten, grab some snacks, get some air. We’ll continue filming once we’re all settled again.”

You nodded, eager for a moment to escape the tension between your boyfriend and Nicholas on set. Heading back to your trailer, you sank onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling while sipping on coffee. Your mind raced, replaying the scene that had just unfolded. You had been thinking about leaving Cody for a while now, but his overbearing presence made it hard. You feared what he might do if you walked away. And then, of course, there was the media, always watching.

As you lay there, lost in thought, a knock sounded at your door. You assumed it was Cody, needing to cool off after his earlier outburst. Without even looking, you called out, “Cody, just take a walk. You need to cool off.”

The door opened, but instead of Cody’s familiar presence, it was Nicholas who stepped in. You sat up on the bed, surprised. “Oh, Hey,” you muttered, sitting up straighter as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low and concerned. He studied your face closely, his eyes filled with genuine care. You tried to give a nonchalant smile, nodding.

“I’m fine,” you lied, though it was obvious you weren’t. Nicholas’ gaze flickered from your brown eyes down to your lips, then back up again. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking until there was barely any distance at all.

You both were inching toward each other, your breath mingling as the attraction that had been building between you two, both on and off screen, reached its breaking point for the hundredth time. Before you could think, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow and tender at first, but then his hands moved up to cup your breasts, sending sparks through you.

You pulled away, breathless, your heart pounding. “What if Cody comes back? What if he sees us?” you whispered, half in fear, half in excitement.

Nicholas, with a wicked grin, leaned in closer, his voice a deep rasp. “Let him see. Let him see me make you feel good, in a way he never can.”

The room felt hot, the air thick with desire. Nicholas stood up and crossed the room to lock the door. The click of the lock made your pulse race. Then, without hesitation, he took off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest and defined abs. He looked absolutely irresistible, his body chiseled and perfect.

You couldn’t stop staring, practically drooling at how unbelievably hot he was. And as he stood there, looking down at you with smoldering eyes, you realized just how powerless you were to resist him any longer.

The tension in the trailer was thick, the heat between you and Nicholas undeniable. You wanted more of him, but the looming threat of Cody returning, or the director calling everyone back to set, weighed on your mind. Despite that, your body ached for his touch, and you couldn’t resist as he sat beside you, his lips crashing back onto yours.

The kiss deepened, your moans of his name slipping past your lips as he whispered against your skin, “I love when you moan my name.” His eyes darkened with desire as he added, “I hope that whenever Cody fucks you, you’re thinking of me.”

Your breath hitched as his mouth trailed lower, his hands already tugging at the low-cut top you wore. His lips found your breasts, his mouth warm as he sucked on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. “Nicholas,” you moaned, trying to stop him before he left any visible marks. “No hickeys, please-”

But he didn’t listen. He left two dark hickeys on your breasts, smirking as he pulled away to admire his work. “I hope when he takes off your clothes, he sees these,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “He’ll know you belong to someone else. To me.”

You shivered as his hands trailed down to your skirt, slipping underneath to find your lacy panties. His fingers rubbed you through the thin fabric, and you were already soaked. A soft moan escaped your lips as your hips lifted into his touch, begging for more.

“Does this turn you on?” Nicholas asked, slipping a finger past your panties and into your heat, teasing you. “Cheating on that little boy?” He held your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him as he asked again. “Do I turn you on?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip before whispering, “Yes Daddy, you do.”

He grinned, sliding another finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in slow, agonizing circles. You gasped, arching your back off the bed as the pleasure built inside you. “Such a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you deeply to muffle your moans. His lips moved to your neck, placing soft kisses there as he praised you. “You’re taking my fingers so well, you’re so wet, soaking my hand.”

Your breath came in ragged pants, your body trembling as the pleasure became overwhelming. He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean with a smirk. Then he leaned down and kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

He didn’t stop there. His fingers returned to your heat, sliding in and out as his mouth found your breasts again, sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. His thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

It wasn’t long before your body gave in. You came hard around his fingers, your moans muffled by his lips as he kissed you through it. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “Such a good girl for Daddy, coming on my fingers like that. That’s my girl.”

He kept fingering you gently, easing you down from your high, until you were breathless and shaking beneath him.

Without a word, you slid down the bed, pulling at Nicholas’s pants with urgency. His eyes had been locked on you, heavy with lust, and when you finally freed his hard cock, you were mesmerized by how perfect it looked, thick, long and pretty with a pink tip. You wasted no time, taking him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him as a deep moan escaped his lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back as you worked your tongue along his shaft. “You’re such a good girl, feels so good.”

You started teasing him, your mouth moving slowly, hands caressing his balls, but the teasing hadn’t lasted long. Nicholas grabbed your braids, gently tugging your head forward. “Suck my cock,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. “No teasing.”

You obeyed, taking him deeper, your mouth moving faster as you pleased him just the way he liked. His hands guided your movements, and his moans filled the air, telling you how perfect you were, how no one could ever make him feel like this. “You’re too good for him,” he said through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You belong to me, no matter who you’re with.”

The words sent a shiver through you, and you moaned around him, sending vibrations along his length. He gasped, tightening his grip on your hair. “Does he know you call me when he sleeps? Does he know where your heart lies?”

You couldn’t respond, your mouth full of him, but the moans you let out told him everything. You took him deeper, gagging slightly as he hit the back of your throat, and he cursed under his breath, his abs tightening.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warned, his voice strained. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth.”

You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace, and your hands massaged his balls as you took him as deep as you could. It only took a few more strokes before his hips jerked, and with a groan, he spilled into your mouth. His head fell back, and he moaned, “Such a good girl, my good girl. You did so good for me. You sucked my cock so well.”

You swallowed everything, licking him clean before pulling away, looking up at him as he watched you with hooded eyes.

Nicholas pulled you up from the bed, guiding you into his arms as your lips met in a soft kiss. His touch was gentle now, and as you nestled against his chest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. His hand found its way to your hair, stroking it soothingly while you relaxed in his embrace.

“I don’t want to do this forever,” you murmured softly, your voice tinged with the weight of your emotions. The tension of sneaking around and the complications with Cody weighed heavily on your mind.

Nicholas held you tighter, understanding the unspoken struggle. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

Before either of you could say more, there was a sharp knock on the trailer door. “Filming’s starting again in five!” the director called from outside.

You sighed, pulling yourself from the warmth of Nicholas’s embrace. “I guess it’s time,” you said with a small, reluctant smile.

You quickly washed your mouth in the small sink, your mind already shifting back to the scene you had to film. Nicholas lingered for a moment, waiting for you to finish before stepping to the side to give you space. He couldn’t come out with you immediately, it would look suspicious, so he stayed behind, allowing you to exit first.

When you stepped back on set, Cody was already there, his eyes burning as he watched you. He hadn’t said anything yet, but you could feel the tension radiating from him, as though he suspected something. Nicholas emerged a minute later, casually strolling back to his mark, though you could see the edge in his expression as his gaze briefly flickered over to your boyfriend.

It was time to get back into character, but the lines between fiction and reality were blurring more than ever. Cody’s stare bore into you as if daring you to give something away, while Nicholas stood close, his jaw clenched, waiting for the scene to unfold.

The director called out, “Action!” and the scene picked up exactly where they left off. Nicholas, fully in character, glared at you with fiery intensity as he delivered his line, “I want you. Fuck your boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, he grabbed you, pulling you into a kiss that was far more heated than the script required. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your waist and chest, his presence dominating the moment. The kiss deepened, and as he moved you onto the bed, it felt as though the lines between acting and reality blurred. He seemed to glance over toward Cody, who was watching from behind the camera, but it was hard to tell if it was intentional or not.

“Cut!” the director shouted, stepping forward with a smile. “That was flawless, great job you two.”

Nicholas's lips were still hovering over yours, your breaths mingling as you both panted from the intensity of the scene. His hands stayed on your body just a little longer than necessary, and Cody’s eyes burned with suspicion from across the set. It was as though he could feel something was off, but he said nothing.

Later, the day’s filming wrapped, and everyone was heading back to the hotel. You, Nicholas, and Cody were all staying in the same hotel, which only added to the tension. In your shared room with your boyfriend, his agitation was evident. He was pacing, his expression dark and frustrated.

“What was that today?” he demanded, his tone sharp. “The way you two were all over each other. It didn’t look like acting.”

You sighed, trying to remain calm. “It was nothing, Cody. We were just doing the scene, it’s literally just acting. I don’t know what you’re talking about”

He wasn’t convinced. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to you, scrutinizing every word that left your lips. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Because it didn’t look like nothing from where I was standing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, you stepped away from him, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m not about to argue with you over my job. You chose to be there.”

Cody’s face softened as he realized he was pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to approach you again. “I just, I don’t know. I didn’t mean to make it a thing.”

But you were done with the conversation. “I don’t want to hear it, Cody.” The words were final, your back turned to him as you tried to distance yourself from the situation. Frustrated, his voice snapped at you, but then he stopped himself, muttering another apology. He moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck in a gesture meant to calm the tension. But as his lips touched your skin, you found yourself closing your eyes, not thinking of him, but of Nicholas, the way his hands had held you, the way his lips had lingered on your neck during filming and outside of it.

Cody’s hands slid down, trying to pull at your clothes, his fingers tugging at the hem of your top, but you stopped him before he could pull it off. The memory of the hickeys Nicholas had left on your chest flashed in your mind.

“I- I don’t want to have sex tonight,” you said abruptly, pulling away from his touch.

His frustration was immediate. He huffed and stormed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You could hear the water running. He couldn’t understand why things had suddenly shifted, why the desire had waned on your end. But deep down, you knew.

You knew you’d much rather Nicholas be the one to kiss your neck, pull down your top and take you right then and there. You were aching for him, dripping with arousal. You were determined to get a piece of him later that night when your boyfriend was asleep or hopefully out getting drunk.

As the night wore on, you waited for Cody to finish in the bathroom. You laid in bed, pretending to sleep, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he finally crawled in beside you, exhausted and oblivious. Once you were sure he was deeply asleep, you carefully slid out of bed. To test, you flicked your finger against his forehead, smiling slightly when he didn’t stir.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bathroom and began your nightly routine, washing your face and applying your skincare and makeup. The rush of anticipation built with every step. You picked up the red lingerie, skimpy and barely there, hugging you in all the right places, and slid it on, admiring how it clung to your body in the mirror. Then, you wrapped yourself in a trench coat, keeping the surprise hidden.

With one last glance at your boyfriend, who remained fast asleep, you grabbed your phone and texted Nicholas. “Is your door open?”

His reply came quickly. “It’s open, princess.”

Your heart raced as you made your way down the hall, the soft click of your heels barely audible. Reaching Nicholas’ room, you opened the door slightly, peeking in before stepping inside. Nicholas was standing there, eyes darkening with hunger the moment he saw you in the trench coat. He crossed the room, meeting you at the door, gaze fixed on you.

Without saying a word, you undid the knot of your trench coat and let it fall to the floor. The red lingerie you wore underneath left nothing to the imagination. His breath caught as he took in the sight of you. “You look so sexy for Daddy,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

Before you could respond, Nicholas pressed you against the door, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands found your breasts. You moaned softly, hands tangling in his hair, feeling the intensity of his need. He squeezed your breasts, murmuring, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy," you breathed, arching into him, “I’m all yours.”

His smirk deepened, his lips claiming yours as he pulled you even closer, his hands exploring every inch of you.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him, grinding against the hardness pressing into you. His hands gripped your thighs as he carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before pulling his shirt over his head. You watched, breathless, as he slid his boxers off, his thick cock already hard and leaking, the tip glistening with precum.

Hovering over you, he began rubbing himself along your soaked entrance, teasing, dragging his length up and down your slick folds. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice husky as his eyes took in the sight of you beneath him.

“Just fuck me, Daddy,” you begged, voice desperate and needy.

Nicholas smiled, a dark gleam in his eyes as he reached for the straps of your lingerie and slowly pulled it off, baring your body to him completely. He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of heat in his wake until his mouth found your pussy. His tongue flicked against your clit, and you moaned loudly, gripping the sheets as pleasure rolled through you. He devoured you, lapping at your wetness, the sensations building and building until you were on the edge, so close to coming.

But just as you were about to let go, he pulled away, leaving you panting and needy. “I want you to come around me,” he said, his voice filled with desire. He reached for a condom from the nightstand.

“No condom this time,” you interrupted, breathless but firm. “I want to feel all of you. I want you to cum inside me.”

Nicholas’ eyes flashed with something primal, his lips curling into a smirk. He tossed the condom aside and positioned himself between your legs, rubbing his cock against your entrance, teasing you again. “You sure?” he asked, voice low and commanding.

“I’m ready,” you whispered, nodding, “I want it all.”

With a groan of satisfaction, he pressed his thick cock inside you, filling you inch by inch. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling of him raw inside you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. Nicholas began to thrust, slow and deep at first, driving you both wild.

As the heat between you intensified, you felt an electric thrill run through your body, urging you to crave more of him. “Daddy,” you breathed, your voice a sultry whisper, “I want more.”

With that invitation, he increased the pace, thrusting harder and deeper. The headboard creaked under the pressure, the whole floor probably heard, your nails dug into his back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You were lost in the rhythm, your breath quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You wrapped your legs around him tightly for a moment, pulling him closer before releasing them, spreading wider to accommodate him. The shift allowed him to plunge deeper, each stroke igniting a raw, primal desire within you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and you met his movements with your own, pushing back against him as he filled you completely.

“Just like that daddy,” you urged, your voice thick with passion.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts hard and relentless, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pulled back slightly, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His voice was a low as he murmured against your mouth, “You’re all mine. You belong to Daddy now, you always have.”

A shiver of excitement raced through you, and he continued, “I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said, the words flowing from your lips as if they were the only truth that mattered.

“Whose pussy is this?” he asked, his tone commanding, eyes locked onto yours.

“Yours, Daddy. It’s all yours,” you replied, the thrill of submission making your heart race.

“Good girl,” he said, a satisfied smirk across his lips. “That’s my good girl.”

With renewed intensity, he rolled his hips beautifully against yours, the connection between you both electric. “I want you to cum all over my dick, raw, for the first time,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

The feeling of him pushing deeper ignited a fire within you, building to a peak you couldn't hold back. With a gasp, your body responded to his words, pleasure washing over you in waves as you squirted, soaking him completely.

Nicholas groaned in response, his grip on you tightening as he felt the warmth of your release.

“That’s so hot baby, that turned you on huh,” he said, now chasing his own orgasm as your body lay shaking underneath him.

“Y-yes daddy,” you sobbed and he grinned, his pretty white teeth glistening.

“You soaked me baby, squirting on me like that, being a cheating slut turns you on?” His pace never let up but this time, he reached between your bodies and began rubbing your clit sending a pleasure you almost couldn’t take rushing through your writhing body.

A scream left your lips as you creamed and squirted again all over his cock, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fucking hell baby,” he moaned and you felt his hot cum spurt inside of you. He continued thrusting gently, the pace almost loving as he allowed your grip to milk him of every drop.

Now a panting mess, he fell beside you and turned to face you. Your leg was draped across his heaving body and you stared at his beautiful disbelieved figure as he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’re going to be the death of me baby.”

[fear-is-truth]

dating . . . NICHOLAS CHAVEZ .ᐟ (poc reader)

yourusername

yourusername always outside, always vibing 💅🏾📹✨

liked by zendaya and 4,830,617 others

view all 813 comments

╰ hearts4nic he really got himself a baddie. i’m mad jealous but also OBSESSED

╰ kay_14 The drip? Immaculate. The energy? Unmatched ╰ tamaracolby444 2024 couple goals, no competition

╰ nac.official 😍

-

yourusername

yourusername sealed with kisses and wrapped in love. 💋

liked by nicholasalexanderchavez and 6,137,910 others

view all 719 comments

nicholasalexanderchavez you have my heart. all of me

╰ angelfawnn and the d must be 🔥

╰ bri_9702 gurl 😭

y/nupdates love her nails 💅🏾

nicholaschavezfanpage y’all just out here giving us heart attacks with all this cuteness ❤️

-

yourusername

yourusername 🇫🇷🥖💌

liked by nicholasalexanderchavez and 5,384,106 others

view all 495 comments

haileygxrdon The city of love looks even better with you two in it 🔥

rxxie9 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE 😭

-

yourusername 9 m

[totesnotbeyonce]

UPDATE !!!

hey guys...

Sorry I haven't posted anything, a lot has happened this year and I'm very drained but I started working on something, so be prepared for when I post.

Sorry again for not posting.

[bushswkq]

FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW X WITCH!READER

Part 1 🕯️

cw: smut, 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm back! I just want to say that I'm really happy for the likes of part 1 💜 I hope you like this one too

There you were again, smoking a cigarette outside the church. Your leather boot making noise with every stomp you made on the anxious sidewalk. It was Wednesday, as Father Charlie had said, the day of confession in which the faithful came to the house of God to confess their sins and their souls were absorbed from the fires of hell until the next week like a vicious cycle. You reached out your hand grabbing the coffee cup on the floor, making sure no one had witnessed the little display of magic. Waiting a few more minutes you entered the church as soon as the last person left. Unlike your first visit, the place was now dark with few candles lighting the space. His eyes wandered around the place before finding the confessional, this time the pentagram on his chest was completely exposed.

“I see you took my offer seriously,” Father Charlie Mayhew began in surprise as you sat in the confessional. When he made the proposal, he didn't believe you would actually accept it. You noticed him shift position on the other side by the creaking of wood. “I’m all ears, start whenever you want.” Again you felt his cologne, oh my god, how it gave you a good and restless feeling at the same time.

An exciting agony His eyes caught your movements through the small holes, imagining the contours of your body, the way your curves would press against him. His grip on the wooden cross in front of him tightened, the need to touch it overwhelming.

“You really believe in God. Father?” You asked suddenly, looking at the holes in the confessional that gave access to it. Charlie paused for a moment, composing himself before speaking “I have many reasons to believe in him, he saved me and he can save you if you let him.” he said in a low voice. You smiled awkwardly, without any effort a flame lit up on your index finger. It didn’t burn you, just a tingling on the tip that you were already used to. “There are things… things that many are not yet ready to understand, Father.” seconds later the flame disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

Father Charlie's heart raced as he watched the flame dance on his fingertip, a flicker of light in the dark confines of the confessional. Mixture of fascination and fear coursing through his veins as the fabric of his robe strained against his arousal, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within. His breath caught in his throat, and he found himself drawn to you in a way that both thrilled and disturbed him. As a man of God, he knows he should denounce her abilities, expel her from this sacred place. And yet... a part of him longs to understand, to unravel the mystery you present.

You can't react when he opens the confessional door abruptly grabbing your body with ease, his beautiful eyes darting to the pentagram like the first time. You don't react when he pulls you hard, breaking it, leaving only the cross on your chest.

"What...what are you?" he sighs, his voice rough with barely contained lust. “Some demon sent to disturb the peace, surely.” But even as he speaks, his hands are roaming your body, gliding over your curves with a hunger that belies his words.

The heat of his touch burns your skin, even through the fabric of your clothes. He leans in, his lips colliding against yours in a bruising kiss. It's a dance of passion and danger, the forbidden fruit he knows he should resist but can't. A witch and a priest, an impossible combination, and yet…

You can see the lust burning inside Charlie. It's intoxicating because you still feel his grip. His features are like a fallen angel, he was in the wrong vocation. His hands slid lower, pushing up the skirt of your black dress. The smell of your arousal mixes with his, an intoxicating scent that clouds his mind and weakens his resolve. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes dark with need. “Tell me,” he says harshly, “are you real, or am I losing my mind?”

He knows he should stop, he should push you away and run away from this temptation. But he can't. He is lost, drowning in a sea of forbidden desire, and he is powerless to resist. “I can be real for you tonight.” You say boldly, you had nothing to lose. It would be another night of fun.

You see the realization flash through Charlie's eyes. Slowly, he releases you, allowing you to take a step back. He looks at you, desire and fear tangled in his gaze. His hand shakes as he runs it through his hair, an attempt to regain some semblance of control. And then, as if he had made a decision, his resolve breaks. He walks towards you, closing the gap between you, and whispers huskily, “Show me… let me know the truth of your words.” The rational part of his mind screams at him to stop, to push you away and escape this temptation.

But his primal, carnal side longs to surrender, to lose himself in the forbidden pleasures you offer. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

But all he sees is a mirror of his own desire, a reflection of the hunger that burns within him. Father Charlie's heart races as he unbuttons the buttons on her dress, his fingers trembling with anticipation. He pulls the fabric to the side, exposing the smooth, supple skin of your collarbone. Leaning down, he presses a searing kiss to your flesh, claiming you as his. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with desperate hunger. He can’t get enough of you, the feel of your skin under his fingertips, the taste of your flesh on his tongue.

“You’re beautiful,” he sighs, his voice rough with desire. "More than any mortal man could deserve." He reaches out, his hand gliding over the curve of your breast, tracing the delicate curve of your waist. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine and lighting a fire deep within your core. Father Charlie's own clothes appear tight, a reminder of the vows he made and the life he chose. With a growl of frustration, he hurriedly begins to remove the fabric, exposing his chest to your gaze.

With that, he pulls you close once more, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is both desperate and possessive. He pours all his longing, all his desire, into that one moment, and you can feel the intensity of his passion coursing through your veins. A low growl resonates in his chest, and he grabs you roughly, his hands gripping your hips with blunt force.

He pushes you against the wall, pinning you in place with his body. His mouth crashes against yours, the kiss is fierce and demanding, a clash of teeth and tongue that leaves you both breathless. His hands roam your body, groping and squeezing, leaving no inch of skin untouched.

He tears at his underwear, tearing it off with wild desperation, not caring about the damage he causes. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, strong and insistent, a physical manifestation of his desire. He grinds against you, the friction delicious and maddening at the same time.

With a final growl, Father Charlie lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he positions himself at your entrance. He stops for a moment, his eyes boring into yours, a silent question in their depths.

And then, with one thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that borders on the sublime.

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with a ferocity that steals your breath. Each thrust is deeper, stronger than the last, bringing you both closer to the edge of oblivion. Father Charlie buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he loses himself in the rhythm of your copulation. He is a man possessed, driven by a hunger that cannot be satisfied, a need that consumes him completely.

Father Charlie's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts become more erratic as the line between pleasure and pain blurs. You can feel the desperation in every move, the need to claim and be claimed in return. The sound of their copulation fills the air, skin against skin, the wooden structure rhythmically echoing the charged atmosphere. Father Charlie's breathing is ragged, his body shaking as he approaches the edge of release.

He grinds against you, his cock pulsing inside you, the heat of his release building. With a final, guttural groan, he spills himself inside you, the profanity of his actions washing over him like a tidal wave.

As his orgasm subsides, he collapses against you, his body slick with sweat. The air around you is thick with the scent of sex, a testament to the forbidden pleasure you've just shared.

For a moment, there is only the sound of their heavy, labored breaths as they cling to each other in the aftermath. Father Charlie's fingers run gently through his hair, a stark contrast to the ferocity of moments before. Slowly, he pulls away from you, his gaze never leaving yours. In that moment, there is a newfound vulnerability in his eyes, an admission that this transgression has changed him forever.

@mlt2000