#nicholas church

[hsundholm]

St. Nicholas Church by Henrik Sundholm Via Flickr: Spending the day in Tallinn, Estonia, during a cruisetrip this past summer.

[greengoblinswifey]

You’re My Religion- Father Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader

summary— what begins as a confession turns into a heated encounter at the altar with your mother’s priest. they say god forgives all but after this, you’re not so sure.

warnings— EXPLICIT CONTENT. degrading kink, praise kink, daddy kink, priest kink, unprotected sex, creampie, face fucking, face slapping, spanking, spitting, blasphemy, gaslighting, mentions of hell, mentions of drugs.

a/n— written while listening to religion by lana del rey.

You stepped into the dimly lit church, your heels echoing off the stone floor, drawing the eyes of everyone already seated. Your mother sat in the front, her lips pressed into a tight line, her eyes narrowed in disapproval as they roamed over your outfit, lacy, white, and far too revealing for the sanctity of the place.

You could feel the heat of judgmental stares as you made your way forward. A white garter peeked out from beneath the hem of your dress, resting against your thigh like a silent rebellion. It wasn’t just the dress; it was everything, your lateness, your attitude, your recent choices. Smoking behind the house had been the last straw for your mother, who was determined to have you confess your sins to Father Charlie Mayhew. You’d done worse but she hadn’t found out, might as well do as she asked.

Father Charlie stood at the altar, his presence imposing yet alluring. He was young for a priest, with sharp features softened by the flickering candlelight. His eyes briefly lingered on you as you approached, dark and inscrutable, before his expression returned to one of serene composure. His hands clasped in front of him, holding a Bible, as though the words inside it could shield him from whatever thoughts were swirling in his mind.

You slid into the pew beside your mother, her disapproval palpable. “You’re going to talk to him after the service,” she whispered sharply, not even glancing your way. "You will confess and make things right."

You barely heard her. Your attention was fixed on Father Charlie. Something about the way he looked at you, even for just a second, made your pulse quicken.

He stood at the pulpit, his voice echoing through the quiet church as he continued his sermon. The congregation sat in attention, but his eyes kept flickering toward the front row, toward you. You sat beside your mother, legs crossed, the lacy white dress slipping higher as you adjusted in your seat.

His words wavered for a moment, his gaze slipping to where your dress had risen, revealing more of your thigh. You could feel his eyes on you, feel the subtle heat of his attention even from across the room. A wicked thought crept into your mind, and slowly, carefully, you parted your legs, revealing the scarlet lace of your thong.

For a brief moment, Father Charlie’s voice faltered. His eyes caught the sinful glimpse of red beneath your dress, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. His fingers tightened around the Bible, knuckles white as if he was trying to anchor himself to its holiness.

He paused, then spoke, his tone harder now, deliberate. “We must be wary, brothers and sisters, of the dangers of lust, of temptation. Of the Jezebels who seek to lead good men astray with their wicked ways.” His words cut through the air like a blade, but his gaze briefly darted to you once more, betraying the battle raging beneath his composed exterior.

Your mother shifted beside you, her disapproving eyes narrowing as she looked over at you, suspicion flickering across her face. She didn’t know what you had done, not fully, but she felt something was wrong. The sermon had taken an oddly personal tone, and she wasn’t oblivious to it. You could feel her judgment creeping in, but it only fueled the excitement that stirred within you.

Father Charlie continued, though his words seemed to be more for himself now than the congregation. “We must resist. Resist the lure of sin, no matter how enticing it may appear. For we know that the path of temptation only leads to destruction.”

As he spoke, his eyes met yours again, and for a moment, it felt as though the entire room had disappeared. There was no congregation, no mother, no church. Only the two of you, caught in the tension that simmered between righteousness and desire.

As the sermon ended, Father Charlie closed his Bible, but the tension between you lingered in the air. You bit your lip, feeling his gaze burn into you even as he tried to avert his eyes. Throughout the sermon, you had kept your legs parted, teasing him, the red lace of your thong on full display. He’d stolen glances, his composure faltering more than once, but somehow he had managed to make it through. Now, with the service over, the real test was about to begin.

Your mother, determined to show her righteousness, practically dragged you over to him. Her hand clutched your arm as she led you to the front of the church, where Father Charlie stood, his posture stiff and his expression carefully neutral.

“Father,” your mother began, her voice stern, "this is my daughter Y/N. She’s been...not of God lately. I’ve begged for her to come here so she can cleanse herself, confess her sins, and find her way back to the Lord.”

Father Charlie’s eyes flicked to yours for a brief second before he straightened, clasping his hands together. “I understand,” he said, his voice smooth and steady, though there was an undercurrent of something else, something darker, in his tone.

“Since she found her way into church late,” your mother added, giving you a pointed look, “I trust she can find her way back home. Keep her as long as you need, Father, until you’re sure she’s, renewed.” Her eyes darted to your dress, her distaste clear, before she turned to leave.

As she walked away, you watched the door close behind her, leaving you alone with Father Charlie. He stood there, silent for a moment, before finally speaking. “Confession is a powerful thing,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “It requires honesty, humility. Are you ready to confess?”

You gave a slow, deliberate nod, your lips curling into a soft smile. “I think I have a lot to confess, Father.” Your voice was low, teasing, as you looked at him through your lashes.

His jaw tightened, but he motioned for you to follow him to the confessional booth. Once inside, he slid the screen between you, his silhouette barely visible through the latticework. “Speak, my child,” he said, the formality of his words clashing with the tension between you. “Confess your sins, so that you may be forgiven.”

You hesitated for a moment, then decided to push further, testing the boundaries. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you said, your voice soft and sultry. “I’ve been thinking wicked thoughts. Lustful thoughts.”

He was silent on the other side, but you could sense his tension, feel the weight of his conflicted desires.

“I’ve done things, drugs, other things,” you continued, your tone growing more seductive. “Things I shouldn’t. With people I shouldn’t.” You shifted in your seat, your legs parting slightly, knowing full well he could sense it even if he couldn’t see. “Sometimes, I just can’t help myself. The temptation is too strong.”

Father Charlie cleared his throat, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “Temptation is the Devil’s work," he said, though his voice wavered. "You must resist it.”

You bit your lip, leaning closer to the screen, your voice barely above a whisper. “But what if I don’t want to resist?”

There was silence. You could hear his breathing, shallow and uneven. His hand shifted, and you imagined him clenching his fists, fighting the very thing you were offering. “You must,” he finally said, though it sounded more like a command to himself than to you.

You leaned back in your seat, a mischievous smile on your lips. “But daddy, don’t you want to help me?”

His breath hitched, and you knew you had him. At the same time you both exited the booth, his face looking flushed as he did.

As the tension grew between you and Charlie, your fingers brushed lightly over his chest, feeling the warmth of his body beneath his clothes. You leaned in, close enough that your lips barely touched his ear. “Daddy,” you whispered, your voice filled with temptation, “I’ve been such a bad girl. A dirty sinner. Punish me. Give me a preview of eternal punishment.”

His breath caught at your words, his hand grabbed your hair as he pulled you back to face him, his eyes dark with restrained desire. “You don’t know what you're asking for,” he growled, though his grip on you betrayed his true thoughts.

You smiled up at him, your lips curling in a teasing smile. “I think I do,” you murmured, arching your back to press against him, your hand slipping around his neck as you pulled him even closer. “Right here, in front of the cross, I don’t care.”

Charlie’s eyes flicked toward the large cross behind you, but his gaze quickly returned to your lips, unable to resist the pull. “You’re going to hell,” he muttered, before gripping your waist firmly, lifting you onto the altar as if he couldn't control his actions any longer.

Your legs parted naturally, and you wrapped them around his waist, pulling him in as his lips finally crashed against yours. The kiss was intense, filled with the heat of everything you both had been holding back. His hands roamed over your body, but even as he touched you, he still kept control.

“You're such a bad girl,” he said between heated kisses, his voice low and commanding. “here, of all places.”

You grinned against his lips. “I wanted you,” you admitted breathlessly, “and I knew you couldn’t resist, I always get what I want.”

Charlie’s grip tightened, his hand moving to your throat in a possessive hold. “You need to learn some discipline,” he growled, pulling you closer. “And I’m the one to teach you.”

Your pulse raced as you felt his control over you grow. The cross behind you seemed to sway slightly, but all you could focus on was the fire between you. His hands were everywhere, and every touch made your breath catch, your desire building with each second.

“You wanted to be bad?” he whispered harshly against your ear, his voice filled with both heat and command. “Then you’ll have to take what comes with that.”

Before you could respond, the cross behind you shifted, tilting dangerously. You gasped, glancing back just in time to see it tumble forward, crashing to the ground. The loud thud echoed in the church, but neither of you moved, the sound only fueling the intensity between you.

With one final, wicked smirk, Charlie leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “There’s no turning back now.”

He shoved you to your knees and you ripped your thong off, your fingers dipping to your sopping pussy as he rid himself of his robes and presented himself bare in front of you. “Suck this priest cock,” he demanded. Without waiting for a reply, his cock was sent into the back of your throat making you gag.

“That’s it little bitch,” he groaned, “take whatever the fuck I give you.”

You took him in, your mouth working around him, your cheeks hollowing as you surrendered to his brutal rhythm.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. “Just like that. You’re doing so well.” The way he spoke made you want to please him even more, and you found yourself pushing back against him, eager for more.

But then he pulled back, looking down at you with a mixture of pride and mischief. “I think you need a little discipline,” he said, the hint of a smirk on his lips. Before you could respond he grabbed your hair and pulled you over his knee as he sat at the altar, he then delivered a sharp smack to your ass, making you gasp.

“Did you like that?” he asked, watching you closely. You nodded, a thrill of excitement coursing through you. “I thought so,” he replied, his hand coming down again, the sound echoing in the church.

“Let’s see how many more you can take,” he taunted, giving you another hard spank, each one leaving a burning sensation behind. The mix of pleasure and pain made your head spin, and you found yourself craving more.

“Daddy,” you gasped, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I can take it. I want more.”

“Such a naughty whore,” he chuckled, the heat in his gaze intensifying. “But I’ll give you what you want. Just remember, you asked for it.”

He placed a kiss on your ass before his hard hand came down again, causing you to yelp. He chuckled darkly at the sounds you made before he gripped your jaw, making you open your mouth and spat inside. He continued his assault on your ass whispering darkly to you.

“This is what you like? Is this what whores like you enjoy? To be violated by their priest? Hmm?”

“Y-yes father,” you moaned, feeling his sharp hand come down again, you weren’t sure how much you could take but you didn’t want to let him know.

“Alright whore, back on my cock, make me cum and maybe I’ll give you what you so desperately desire.”

As you knelt at the altar, the irony of the moment didn’t escape you. Typically, this was a sacred space meant for prayer and reflection, a place where you sought forgiveness and guidance. But here you were, on your knees, not in a plea for redemption but in a silent prayer of your own worshipping the man who stood before you. Worshipping his big, thick, leaking cock. Thank God for him.

The flickering candlelight casted shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the way his lips curled into a smirk. You felt a thrill rush through you, knowing how wrong this was, yet wanting it more than anything.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice low and teasing. You got to work, spitting on his cock and taking him as deep as you could in your throat as tears left your eyes, as you did so he ripped your little dress off you making you gasp. The little sounds you made on his dick made him moan in pleasure. You continued sucking and not long after he held your head own as you gasped for air and came down your throat.

He clearly hadn’t released in a long time because there were still small ropes of his cum he pumped onto your face. With a smack, his hand came down across your cheek then he spat on you, making you stick your tongue out.

“Disgusting whore, you’re fucking filthy, sent from the devil himself.”

“Make me yours then,” you panted and Father Charlie smiled down on you.

With a swift motion, Charlie gripped your waist, bending you over the altar. The cool wood pressed against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat building within you. You felt exposed, your heart racing as you heard him move behind you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. “So willing to give yourself to me right here in God’s house. I wonder what He would think of this.”

You could barely focus on his words as anticipation coursed through you. “I don’t care,” you managed to reply, your voice breathless. “Just please, Father.”

He chuckled, positioning himself behind you, and for a moment, you felt the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders. “You might need to repent after this,” he teased, his tone playful yet filled with raw desire. “But I’m sure God will forgive me for what I’m about to do, you, a fucking slut, not so much.”

You shivered, knowing this was all so wrong, yet feeling every bit of it was right for you. “Just take me,” you urged, your body craving his touch.

As he pushed into you, a loud gasp escaped your lips. The sensation was overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and guilt flooding your senses. He was so deep inside your pussy, tearing you apart with a burning stretch. “Holy—” you started, but he interrupted.

“‘Thou shalt not commit fornication,’” he quoted, almost mockingly. “But we’re not fornicating, are we? We’re just, exploring.”

You could only moan in response, the feeling of him filling you pushing all thoughts of right and wrong from your mind. “Yes daddy,” you breathed, lost in the moment. “Just exploring.”

He began to move, his thrusts deep and steady. “You know, sometimes the line between sin and pleasure is blurred,” he murmured. “But I think we’re in good hands. God will forgive me, won’t He?”

“God can’t see us,” you managed to say between breaths, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

“Exactly,” he growled, picking up his pace. “And you’re going to come for me. Make it worth it, bitch.”

He slapped your ass harshly, making you moan and open your eyes to look at the holy water on the altar that fell to the ground and splashed on you. You could swear it burned your skin.

As the pleasure washed over you, the world around you faded, leaving only the sensation of Charlie’s body against yours. You felt yourself tightening around him, waves of ecstasy crashing through you until, with a final gasp, you came undone.

“God, you’re beautiful when you’re like this,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. He pulled out, letting you catch your breath for a moment before lifting you effortlessly. “Now, let’s take this to a more fitting spot.”

With that, he guided you toward the chair where the priest would usually sit, its authority mixed with your reckless abandon. He sat back, pulling you onto his lap in one smooth motion. The air was electric with anticipation, and you could see the flickering candles casting shadows around the room, the only witnesses to your sin.

“Get ready to worship,” he growled, guiding you down onto him. As you sank onto his length, a loud moan escaped your lips. The thrill of the position combined with the sinfulness of your surroundings sent a shiver down your spine.

“Look at you, taking me right here,” he said, gripping your hips. “You’re my little slut, aren’t you? Just my bitch to fuck.”

You nodded, feeling the words stir something deeper within you. “Yes, I’m yours,” you breathed, moving your hips to find your rhythm.

He thrusted up into you, each movement deliberate, as he leaned closer. “And you love it,” he stated with a smirk. “You love being my temptation, my little distraction. If God didn’t want me to be tempted, He wouldn’t have created you for me to enjoy. This tight, wet, leaking pussy for me to enjoy.”

With each thrust, the sensation built, and you felt the heat of his words mingle with the heat of your bodies. “You’re going to take all my cum inside you, aren’t you?” he commanded, his tone a mix of dominance and desire. “You want me to fill you up, to pump my cum into your tempting little pussy?”

“Yes, father,” you gasped, your body responding to his every word. The sensation of him filling you pushed you closer to the edge once more.

Just then, the cross above you trembled, tilting ominously before falling upside down. A collective gasp echoed in your mind, but you were too lost in your desire to care. The flickering candles burst into flames, sending wisps of smoke into the air as if the universe itself was reacting to your sinful act.

“Look at that,” he chuckled darkly, his thrusts relentless. “Even God can’t help but take notice of what we’re doing here.”

“Just don’t stop,” you urged, feeling the intensity build again and tears fell from your eyes. The mix of danger and pleasure was intoxicating.

“Never,” he promised, his eyes dark with lust. “I’m going to fill you up, and you’re going to remember this forever.”

With a few final powerful thrusts, he buried himself deep inside you, moaning your name as he released, filling you completely.

As the final waves of pleasure rolled through you, you both collapsed against each other, your bodies slick and exhausted. Breathing heavily, you felt the weight of the moment settle in. The reality of what just happened hung in the air, a mix of satisfaction and consequence.

Charlie pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “You know this is all your fault, right?” he murmured, his tone both teasing and dark. “You tempted me, made me filthy.”

You shivered at the heat of his words, the intensity in his eyes igniting something deep within you. “I didn’t make you do anything,” you replied, a challenge in your voice. “You wanted this just as much as I did.”

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. You made it impossible for me to resist. Look at you, so innocent yet so depraved.” His fingers traced your cheek, a contrast of softness against the edge of his words. “You walked into this church, dressed like a temptation itself, and now look where we are.”

His gaze flicked toward the now-upside-down cross, a symbol of your defiance. “You should be ashamed, everyone would chastise you if you said anything,” he continued, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. “But I know you’re not. You loved every second of it, just like I did.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. “Maybe I did,” you admitted, unable to hide the thrill coursing through you.

Charlie straightened up, adjusting his posture, the authoritative presence returning. “Good. Remember that when you’re here alone, naked and exposed.” He smirked, taking a step back, his eyes dark with desire. “You think this is the last time I’ll see you? You’re wrong. You’re mine now. Your very being belongs to me. I am your God now.”

“You’re my religion,” you whispered.

With that, he turned, walking away toward the back of the church, leaving you breathless and alone. You stared at the cross, the flickering candles around it now extinguished, a stark reminder of the boundary you had crossed.

Naked and vulnerable, you felt a mix of fear and exhilaration wash over you. The reality of your actions hung heavy in the air, but the thrill of the moment lingered in your veins.

[nightsurfin]

my piece for @lovepeacezine 🖤🩶🤍 leftover sales are now open until the 31st of jan!

(still quite happy with this (esp the border) so, details:

[logray]

2005 | 2023

[sohighonuu]

god’s favorite. ♱

pairing. charlie mayhew x poc!fem reader ᡣ𐭩

synopsis. charlie begins to want the new church comer .ᐟ

serenaaa’s note. i kinda wanna make this is series yall 😭 also first time writing smth ? lmk how i did !

warnings. a little suggestive? ˎˊ˗

THE FIRST TIME CHARLIE saw her was when she stepped into the church with her parents. she had a smile on her face, a light pink dress with a small design of flowers on it, and a silver cross necklace around her neck.

she looked perfect.

he immediately took the chance to speak to her when her parents walked away to mingle with other church goers. " hi, welcome.. " he left space for her to say her name.

" y/n, hi. " " that’s a beautiful name." he said, making her smile.

she giggled as she looked down at her feet bashfully. " thank you.. " she mimicked him, also leaving room for his name.

" charlie, charlie mayhew. " she nodded as she repeated it over and over in her head, remembering it.

" is this your first time? " " hm? oh! is it my first time here? yes— yes it is. " She smiled.

god, her smile. it made him forget about everything in the world.

" well, i have to go but welcome! and i’ll be seeing you, y/n. " He winked at her before turning his back to her and walking away. She smiled as she recalled the interaction.

and everyday after that he’d always find a chance to talk to her.

after a while, they became quite close friends.

charlie sits in the booth, as he waits for her, she’s been on his mind so much these days. the bells on the door chime as she walks in. while she’s walking to the booth, her heels click against the floor.

" hi, father. how are you? " she asks with a grin. " great, now that you’re here. "

' is he flirting with me? ' she thinks. her lips tug into a smile at the thought.

" i’m glad you asked to take me out, it seems we haven’t talked much lately. " she sighs softly. " i know, i’m sorry sweetheart. the church has really been occupying my time. " his eyebrows knit together as he looks at her pout.

" it’s okay.. at least we’re out now! " she perks back up. he smiles slightly as he just watches her speak about things.

she’s so pure. but for some reason, he can’t get the thought of taking her home with him and devouring her out of his head.

he takes in a breath before speaking, his eyes focused on only her. " do you want to come back to my house with me? "

" yes, of course, father. "

[alena-draws]

~~

[waveoftheocean]

day after tomorrow

(whee finally posting the finished version of this piece! i originally designed it for a cd charm where you can rotate wolfwood like the gif but then i figured there should be a still version too where you can pretend everything is happy and nothing hurts :))

[illustratus]

Glory to the Hero by Nicholas Roerich

[yuyu-finale]

finally got his smile right

(rough study of this)

[lucialienn]

First piece I did for the @vashwoodbigbang illustrating the amazing @jinkowo on tw!! It was such a blast, I can't wait for this story to be public :D There will be 3 pieces in total.. stay tuned~ >:)

[llamahearted]

somewhere green, where life is easier prints

[sorrowsofsilence]

Sinful Inflictions

Pairing: Nicholas Ruffilo x Fem!reader (oneshot)

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Smut 18+ (PnV, pls wrap it b4 u tap it, fem!fingering, male!receiving), mentions of religion, religious themes, and slight anti-religion.

Prompt:

“Are you ready to pray to me?” He asked, “Then get on your knees and bow.”

It's easy to ignore the eyes of God when you've always had a thing for the priest's son.

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch @blackveilomens @skulliecadaver-blog @darkmxgician

(some tags are from older one-shots, so if you want on or off the tag list pls let me know! :3)

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY IN REAL LIFE! IT IS FICTION! IT IS JUST FOR FUN! <3

You patted down the way-too-short floral skirt you dared to wear upon entering the church, dipping your head gently in greeting toward the priest as he stuck out his hand. Your lips reluctantly landed on his aging skin, hesitating for a moment.

“Good morning Father,” You said warmly, but behind your tone lingered distaste. He smiled as he greeted you back and your eyes shifted from his in aversion, before landing on the gentlemen ahead: His son.

Nicholas smiled at you, his gaze enticing as he dipped his fingers into the holy water, his middle and ring finger twirling in the pool for a moment too long. His hand trailed towards his chest, acknowledging the holy trinity in a cross as he stared, completely fixated.

A faint warmth tinted your nose as you followed, your fingers grazing along the water in doubt, following a fabricated praise. Nicholas’ eyes followed your every move before his eyebrow raised slightly. You gave him a polite nod as you walked past him, your shoulder brushing his chest lightly.

You sat down on one of the wooden pews, crossing your legs in anticipation. Would he sit next to you today?

You grew up with Nick, always attached at the hip. Your favourite day of the week was Sundays because you knew you’d get to spend time with the boy you’d been crushing on for years. As the two of you aged, neither had made any moves, despite the lasting tension always lingering between the two of you; until last week.

Last week Nick finally took a leap of faith, pushing you into the basement bathroom, and kissing you with complete desperation.

“I have been wanting to taste you for years.”

Smiling at his words you had pulled his body against yours, your hips rutting together. As you moaned against his lips Nick’s hands ran along your scalp before you then pulled away.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You had said, “Not under the eyes of God.”

Nick had scoffed, rolling his eyes as his lips attached to your neck, nipping and grazing at the skin, “I know you don’t believe any of it. You only ever come because I have to.”

His lips had trailed back up towards your ear, his warm breath cascading against you, “Plus if there’s a God, it’s fucking me.”

The two of you haven’t spoken since the kiss, but you squeezed your legs together in fervour, unsure of what today would bring.

As if he knew you were thinking of him, Nicholas slid into the same pew as you, gliding across the wood with ease. His slacks were loose, contrasting with his tight grey button-up that had the sleeves rolled just above the nape of his elbow.

He leaned into your side and your heart quickened at the minimal touch, averting your eyes as his devilish smile transcribed sinful thoughts.

“You want to get out of here?”

You looked around slowly before keeping your eyes ahead, worried others would hear as the choir began to sing, “Is that such a good idea Nicholas?”

His name fell off your tongue in a sultry tone, something that made him shift in his seat as he sat back up, facing the front.

“I need you,” he whispered.

With a racing heart, you dared not look toward him as your face warmed, “How?”

“In every way that you’ll let me.”

The breath that lingered in your lungs hitched in your throat, suffocating your mind with reprehensible images. You crossed your legs, squeezing your thighs together in shame as you imagined Nicholas’ hands roaming your bare skin. You had dreamed a dozen times of his disgraceful fingers pulling an orgasm from you in the church basement, your tongue bowing to his need and taking his moans as if they were yours.

You knew how wrong it would be to sneak off and succumb to lust, especially under the holy eyes of God in a place of worship; but the rush of how sinful it was, made you all the more lascivious.

“Meet me by the storage closet in five,” He spoke softly, but excitement radiated off of him as he slid off the pew and turned back towards the entrance. You didn’t turn to watch him, but swallowed with furor and counted down, waiting the allotted time.

Years of desire that had been pushed away led to this moment, and as your chest heaved nervously you excused yourself from the service, refusing to look at the congregation as you walked up the carpeted floor, entering the door that held the staircase to the basement.

With shakey legs, you followed the stairs down and turned a corner before being tugged toward someone.

Nicholas smiled down at you, his eyes lidded in infatuation as he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you close against him, the heat radiating off of his body while he began running a hand along your back.

“What do you mean in every way?” You pressed your head against his chest as you took in a deep breath.

“Don’t pretend to be so innocent,” his low chuckle vibrated as he pulled out a key from his pocket, and unwrapped his limbs from your own. Nick reached for the nob of the storage closet, unlocking it before pulling your wrist, and beckoning you inside.

He quickly locked it, tossing the key into his slacks before turning to face you, and pushing you back against the wall with his hands. You watched as he quickly licked his lips in anticipation, before gracing you with a sly smile.

“I can’t hold myself back anymore,” He said as he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment as you tried not to smile, your hips swaying against his as your stomach churned. Your hands ran up his shirt before resting clasped at the back of his neck, holding him.

“Tell me you feel the same,” He breathed, and you nodded, opening your eyes to meet his smokey irises. You watched each other, waiting.

He pleaded silently for an answer, and without hesitating you placed your lips against his in desperation, pulling him closer toward you as he moaned into the kiss.

Nick’s hand began to roam underneath your skirt, grabbing at the skin before smiling into your caress, “You didn’t wear shorts, and you’re wearing a thong?”

You felt him stiffen below you, his slacks tightening against your exposed thigh.

“I guess I did,” You laughed softly, letting your hands run up his long dark hair, clawing delicately at his scalp.

He kissed you again, this time with more fervour and hunger, ready to devour your shameful soul. His tongue danced along your bottom lip in a lustful beat as he allowed himself to dip his fingers in your underwear.

Your body clenched in longing as you began to push into his hand, desperate for his fingers to graze your adorning skin. You craved Nick’s fingers, and you needed him to know.

“Please,” You begged into his mouth, “Touch me.”

He chuckled at your plea but obeyed, his tattooed fingers parting your desire as he ran them earnestly between your folds. Your abdomen twisted as his palm brushed your clit, before his fingers sunk through your arousal.

The fabric of your skirt rode up your thighs, exposing Nicholas’ immoral actions. He pulled away from your lips to watch, his mouth agape in thirst as he pumped his fingers in and out, curling them skillfully.

Your legs began to buckle and your brows furrowed in pleasure, a quiet whimper crawling from your throat as Nicholas then caught your eyes. A slutty smile splayed on his lips as he proudly fucked you with his fingers in a synthetic sacrament.

The sound of your heavy breathing took over the small, musty, room as your peak built in your stomach, ready to be released. It didn’t take long for you to come, and Nicholas praised you in divinity.

In a ritualistic fashion, he pulled his fingers from you, placing them toward your lips. As if a new ordinance he then nodded for you to suck, and you did, licking his fingers clean of your sin.

Nick groaned unholy words as he blessed himself with the remnants of your orgasm, before tugging at your top.

You began to unbutton your blouse, and he followed, undoing his collared shirt. You both threw the garments to the ground, and Nick reached behind you, unclasping your bra to expose your chest.

“Are you ready to pray to me?” He asked, taking a step back in admiration for your body, before grabbing your hand and placing it on his waistband. You nodded eagerly.

“Then get on your knees and bow.”

You lowered to the ground in submission as you pulled his slacks down his legs, staring at the outline of his erection between the thin layer of his boxers. You tugged the underwear down, wrapping your hand softly around Nick’s arousal.

His hand found the back of your head as he pulled you toward him early, and you hungrily took him in your mouth, allowing your tongue to explore his skin.

You worshiped his body, bobbing your head in a rhythmic pattern as your hand stroked what was left. Your eyes flicked upward, watching Nick’s gaze fixated on your actions, as if he was in disbelief this was really happening.

“Jesus Christ,” He whimpered, hips beginning to thrust into your mouth.

You closed your eyes as you consumed him, your body shaking with lust and greed as you sucked.

“Baptise me,” you begged, and Nick laughed, pushing your head further down himself, forcing you to gag against his cock.

“I want to feel you wrapped around me,” He moaned as you gargled, pushing away to cough. You sucked in a deep breath as he pulled you off the ground, turning your body so you faced the wall.

Nicholas lifted the back of your skirt, a deep grumble erupting from his throat as his eyes devoured you while he stroked himself.

“Bend over and spread your legs,” He commanded and you pushed your chest into the wall, arching your back as far as you could to expose your ass toward your saviour.

You felt Nick’s fingers graze through your folds again, pushing his fingers into you in preparation before aligning himself from behind. You pressed your hips back toward him in desperation, anticipating the feeling of him filling you.

Finally, Nick pushed between your arousal and you cried, your unholy sounds masked by the sound of preaching above. The music of the gospels veiled the disgrace as he pounded into you relentlessly.

His fingers dug into the skin of your hips in lust as he gave into your body, the feeling of your combined souls inflicting a new feeling of complete adoration and need. Your bodies curated an insatiable yearning; an appetite of passion unleashing.

One of Nick’s hands reached to grip your hair, tugging your head back in libidinous urgency, hormones taking over.

Skin slapped together and you moaned from Nick’s thrusts, his body giving you everything he could. You wanted this feeling to last forever and you reached behind, gripping onto his hand that adorned you.

“There is no need to repent, for I am your mercy,” He said, fucking you senselessly with complete greed.

You didn’t care if God’s eyes were watching; you were ready to worship a new man.

+++++

off to hell i go woops

[greengoblinswifey]

Blessed Are The Tempted—Father Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader

summary— after partially denouncing your faith, you decide to make one last trip to see if you could feel a connection to it and God. all you left feeling was your new God’s cum deep inside you. based on this request.

warnings— sacrilege, blasphemy, father kink, daddy kink, Charlie being praised/referred to as God, objectification, ass slapping, mentions of bruises and welts, choking, face slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, spitting degrading kink, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.

a/n— took a break from being depressed over finals to write this! working on the other requests so enjoy this while i take my time <3

The night was heavy, and your heels clicked loudly as you walked toward the church. Clad in a black skirt and a long black coat covering your bare skin underneath, your goth aesthetic stood out against the backdrop of the ancient stone structure. The heels you wore were intricately designed, each one featuring a subtle cross etched into the side—a nod to the symbolism that had always intrigued you, even if you’d long since stopped believing.

As you approached the church, you noticed how still the world felt. There was something almost reverent about the emptiness, the silence that wrapped itself around the tall, pointed spires. You hadn’t been here in ages. The heavy wooden door creaked as you pushed it open, the scent of incense lingering in the air, mixed with something else, something familiar.

You had called earlier, and the voice on the other end had been low, almost too smooth—Charlie. It stirred something in you, a curiosity, a feeling you hadn’t realized you missed. That’s why you were here now—one last chance to feel something, anything, before you walked away forever.

As you stepped inside, the cool air embraced you. You walked down the aisle, your heels making soft but deliberate sounds on the stone floor. Every step felt deliberate, as if you were walking toward a decision you hadn’t fully made yet.

And then you saw him. Father Charlie, standing at the altar, watching you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His eyes followed you as you walked closer, and you could feel the weight of his gaze—the same way you could feel the weight of everything that had led you here tonight.

“You came,” he said, his voice smooth, but with an edge of something else you couldn’t place. There was no judgment in his tone, just an acknowledgment of your presence, and something about that made you feel strangely seen.

“I did,” you said, standing just a few feet away from him now. The silence between you was heavy, but it was comfortable, as if you both knew there was something unspoken between you—something that neither of you were quite ready to voice.

You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes lingered on your attire, how they traced the lines of your outfit, the crosses that hung from your neck. His gaze softened just slightly, and for a moment, you saw the human side of the man who had been your confessor.

“I didn’t expect you to come back,” he admitted quietly, taking a step closer. His voice lowered as if he didn’t want to disturb the sacred silence of the church. “What made you change your mind?”

You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him through your lashes, feeling the pull of something you couldn’t quite name.

“I wanted to feel something,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but he heard it. His eyes flashed with something—maybe understanding, maybe surprise.

He nodded slowly and for a moment, you both stood there, suspended in time. Then, as if pulling back from the edge of something, he stepped away, but not before giving you one last look—one that left a mark on you, something you couldn’t shake off.

“Whatever you need, it’s here,” he said quietly, his voice almost a promise.

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but for now, you didn’t have to.

The church was quiet, except for the soft rustling of the pages as Father Charlie read aloud from the Bible. His voice echoed through the empty pews, each word heavy with the weight of ancient teachings. Your all-black attire, with its gothic undertones, felt almost out of place here, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that this place, this moment, was meant to answer something inside you.

Father Charlie’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” he read, his eyes drifting up to meet yours. There was a tension in the air, an almost unspoken connection that lingered between you.

You tilted your head, stepping forward into the dim light. “Temptation,” you said softly, your voice playful yet tinged with a hint of challenge. “So, blessed are the pure, huh? What about those who are tempted? Are they blessed too? Or is that only for the pure?”

He faltered, his gaze dropping slightly as he shifted uncomfortably. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, but he said nothing.

The silence hung heavy between you as you stepped closer. “You preach about purity and grace, but what does it really mean?” you continued. “Does the flesh have no place in this kingdom you speak of? Or is it something man-made to make us feel something?” Your voice had dropped, the edge now sharp and questioning.

Father Charlie didn’t answer. His eyes were focused on the Bible in his hands, his knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. He was struggling—his faith, his beliefs, they all seemed to waver under your gaze. And that realization hit you hard. There was nothing here for you. The words he spoke, the symbols of faith, they meant little to you now. They were just constructs, meant to give people a sense of purpose, but you felt nothing.

A hollow laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head. “You’re pathetic,” you muttered under your breath, your gaze moving past him. “This is all just a game, a way to make people feel like they’re in control when they’re not. You should know that.”

Father Charlie’s jaw clenched, his breath catching in his throat. “Not in the house of God,” he said, his voice low, filled with a mix of anger and frustration.

You took a step forward, your black coat sweeping around you as you moved. You could feel the tension building, the confrontation nearing its peak. You caught his gaze again, daring him to say more. “House of who?” you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “What is He going to do about it?”

The space between you seemed to stretch, and in that moment, you knew. The boundary he had drawn, the one he believed in so firmly, meant nothing to you. You had turned away from it long ago, and now, it seemed almost laughable that he still clung to it.

The silence was thick, and for a moment, you both simply stood there, facing each other. You didn’t need this place, nor the beliefs that it offered. Father Charlie seemed to sense that, his expression darkening as the tension between you only deepened. But you no longer cared. You had found your truth, and it didn’t belong here. Not in this church, not in this faith. It made what you craved to do all the more daunting.

Slowly, with his eyes on you, you pulled your coat, revealing your bare skin underneath, your nipples only covered by a chain. The rosary hanging around your neck was a stark contrast to the sinful act you’d just committed.

In a blur of frustration and fury, he grabbed you by the hair, pulling you down to your knees on the cold marble floor. His voice was sharp as he demanded, “Confess. Beg for forgiveness for your blasphemy and sexual immorality.”

But you only smirked up at him, defiant. “Pathetic,” you muttered, the word cutting through the air like a blade.

His fingers tightened in your curls, and his face was a mixture of conflict and control. “You’re playing with fire,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “Repent, or you’ll burn.”

“I don’t have time for your fairytales, I’ll be doing no such thing, Father,” you chuckled, looking up at him with big doe eyes, “but I’d bet having a holy man like you all over me would make me holy too.”

“I rebuke the spirit of Jezebel inside you,” he bellowed.

You laughed, voice thick with mockery, “fuck it out of me, make me holy, Father.”

That was it, Father Charlie had enough. He grabbed you by the curls, pulling you to the sacred chair he would sit in during the sermons you’d come to for just five minutes max. He plopped down, frantically fumbling with his pants and belt.

“I only hope God will forgive me for what I’m about to do—no, He will. Blessed are the tempted,” he muttered, looking to the cross above him.

Your eyes panned to how hard and thick he was. But you knew you could take him, you’d show him just how good temptation felt. You’d have him crawling back for more. He was already aching for you, though the battle within himself did not waver.

The priest groaned as he shoved you onto his leaking cock, immediately hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. “That’s right bitch, gag on it. This is what you wanted. This is what you get for being a temptress,” he groaned.

You moaned, doing your best to drag your tongue along his shaft as he used your hair to glide along it. He was not going easy on you, you knew he was trying to break you. Little did he know, you couldn’t be broken, this was what you wanted.

He moved you to his balls, looking down at you with dark eyes as you took the sacks into your mouth then continued your assault on his shaft. As he went back to fucking your throat, you made sure your eyes were on him so he could see how he had you. Eyes teary, black mascara running down your cheeks, salvia and pre cum running down your chin and onto your boobs. You were completely at his mercy.

“Disgusting whore,” he moaned, as you spat onto his cock then glided your tongue over every inch of him, “y-you’re really enjoying this.”

“Mm— tell me more, tell me I’m your dirty bitch,” you pleaded.

“Fuck, you’re my dirty bitch, you’re my cock sucking bitch,” he gasped, bucking his hips as he was practically down your throat.

You suctioned your lips around him tightly, feeling the way he throbbed under the touch of your soft hands squeezing his balls. They tightened as he tipped his head back, staring up at the cross and you could feel how close he was.

“Cum for me daddy,” you moaned, bobbing your head as your dark eyes pierced into at him.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped at the nickname you gave him.

He couldn’t hold back even if he tried, as you deep throated him, his warm seed spurted down your throat, his cock throbbing. He held you down onto him, your nose touching his pubic hair as you savored the taste of the holy man’s cum you had just swallowed.

No amount of post nut clarity could prevent him from aching for more. As he stared down at you on your knees for him, he knew he needed more. This wasn’t sinful—blessed were the tempted. Right?

You shrugged off your coat and the jewelry covering your nipples and pulled down your skirt, heat rippling through your body as Charlie’s eyes raked over your figure. Left in only your thigh high stockings and your cross heels, you sat on Charlie’s lap, your back facing him.

His hand instinctively went to wrap around your throat, while the other groped you, roughly. “I should have you stoned to death for what you’re doing to me,” he murmured.

“Then I’ll see you in hell when your time comes,” you retorted.

Your wit didn’t last long as you felt two of his fingers plunge into you, and his hand tightened around your throat.

“Yes daddy, finger fuck me in front of the altar,” you moaned.

His hand snapped across your cheek, causing your head to whip to the side. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

You squirmed against him, feeling how his fingers stretched your walls. The sound of your wet pussy shamelessly filled the church causing pure desire to swell inside you. You were defiling this sacred space and this sacred man, the thought made your pussy even wetter.

“Look at you, look at what you’re forcing me to do to you,” Charlie sneered into your ear.

“If that’s what you tell yourself,” you chucked, earning another slap across the face.

“Fucking whore, your pussy is leaking all over the chair,” he uttered.

His thumb circled your clit roughly as his other fingers curled inside you, toying with the spongy spot that had you screaming his title.

“Fuck— Father. Faster, harder, make me cum,” you moaned, your head dropping to his shoulder.

His fingers thrusted into you faster and his hand gripped your neck so tight, you couldn’t breathe. “Take it bitch, this is what you wanted. This is what whores like you get.”

His efforts became too much and your body arched in his lap as your orgasm came crashing down. Your fluids spurted from your pussy, coating the floor the congregation would kneel on to pray. Charlie continued rubbing your clit, drawing every sound and every drop of your cum out of you.

“That’s a good little whore, that’s all you’re good for, being used like you’re nothing,” he cooed.

He brought his shaky fingers up to his lips, sucking your juices. “How can a slut like you taste like Heaven?”

“It’s my blessing and your curse.”

Charlie held your body against him as he stood from the chair then he laid you down, shoving your face into the floor while your upper body was still pressed against him. He sat back down, slightly leaning over as he admired your body in an uncomfortable position all for his pleasure.

“I don’t care if you’re in pain, you’re going to take whatever I give you and you’re going to praise me like I’m your God,” he bellowed, “you’ve denounced Catholicism and now you will worship me.”

His grip on your hips was bruising, surely to leave dark bruises when he was finished with you. A gasp left your lips as he slammed into you, pulling you onto his cock at the same time.

“Thank you Father, I— I worship you and praise you for everything you do to me,” you moaned.

You felt his cock throb inside you at your words. Hell would definitely be his resting place. You held up your body by your hands as Charlie slid in and out of you like an animal. He slapped your ass, welts slowly beginning to form as he moaned at the sight of his shaft being covered in your cream.

“That feels so good daddy, please. Hit me again, I’m just your servant, a vessel for you to use and fuck,” you cried.

“That’s right bitch, you’re nothing. You.are.nothing,” he growled, each word emphasized by a hard thrust into you and slaps on your ass.

You did your best to bounce on his cock as you felt the lingering stings from his hand coming down on you.

“Your ass looks so much better getting all marked up from my hand,” he chuckled, his hips snapping to meet you even faster.

All you could do was moan, your pussy fluttering around his length from how wrong it was to have him defile you in his church.

“Daddy, I— I’m gonna cum,” you cried, “please let me cum, oh God, my God, please let me cum.”

“Cum all over your God’s cock,” he muttered, his hand coming down on your ass with a stinging smack.

You shuddered underneath him, your pussy twitching as your orgasm overtook you. He reached under, rubbing circles on your clit as you squirmed and thanked him for giving you permission to cum.

As soon as you came down from your high, he pulled you up by your curls and shoved you into the seat to take his position.

“Spread your fucking legs whore, I know it’s what you do best.”

Who were you to disobey your God? You spread your legs for him, each hanging over the arm of the chair and he watched in awe as your fluids glistened on your pussy, leaking to your asshole and your thigh highs smeared.

His hand slipped around your throat and he thrusted into you harshly, giving you no time to adjust to his size in this new position. You cried out, struggling to breathe and take his assault on you.

“Shut the fuck up, this is what you wanted, you’re an object and a whore, so you will be treated as such,” he groaned, squeezing your throat tighter.

You wanted to be obedient and so, you spread your legs even wider, giving him free rein to tear your pussy apart.

“T-thank you Father, thank you for fucking me,” you stammered.

He moaned, watching his thick cock disappear inside you and seeing the outline of himself moving in your belly.

“Only your God can be this deep inside you, slut,” he laughed in mockery.

He pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling as he pounded into you harshly. The sound of shameless skin slapping filled the church and you could already feel the coil in your abdomen tighten.

“Shit, I can feel your wet pussy tightening around me, beg me to cum,” he muttered, still fucking into you, “beg your God to cum.”

“Please daddy, please God, I just want to be a good slut for you, please let me cum,” you begged, your eyes pleading.

He slapped the heavy tip on your clit and that was all it took for your juices to begin squirting all over him as your orgasm came down upon you. Your pussy twitched and he leaned down, sucking as you squirted then squeezed your jaw open to spit it into your mouth.

“Swallow it like a good slut.” You did as you were instructed to then stuck out your tongue, revealing to Charlie that you could be an obedient servant for him.

His hand was tangled in your curls again as he dragged you, pulling you off the chair and taking your position.

“Ride me. Ride my cock and show me how much you worship me,” he demanded.

Eager to please, you straddled him, making sure your legs were on either side of the chair, your heels clinking against it as you left your pussy at the mercy of his cock.

His hand snaked around your throat, gripping harshly as you slowly sank onto him. The new position made you feel as though he would rip you apart but you dared not to say anything. You just wanted to show him how obedient you could be to your God.

You lifted your body, gliding roughly up and down his cock while he thrusted up into you, increasing your pleasure.

“I love your cock, oh God, I love it so much, it’s so perfect, you’re so perfect,” you whimpered, as he continuously slammed into your cervix and the sweet spot inside you all at once.

“That’s it bitch, I’m your perfect God, all for you to worship and be used by.”

Your head fell forward on his shoulder, your pussy still grinding and bouncing on him but he pushed you back and slapped you hard across the cheek.

“You’re going to look at your God while he fucks you, keep your fucking head up,” he growled.

“Yes daddy, anything for you,” you croaked out.

Your heart and pussy fluttered as he smiled at you, his rough pace not faltering as he met your bounces with harsh thrusts. With his hand still around your neck, he leaned down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples. You arched into him, grinding on his cock and giving your clit the attention it ached for as he continued increasing your pleasure.

You could feel how Charlie throbbed and twitched inside you, he was just as close as you were.

“Daddy, please cum with me, please breed me,” you begged, “let’s make the anti-christ.”

Charlie’s jaw fell agape at your filthy words, breathy moans leaving his lips and he pounded into you hard, chasing his orgasm.

Your pace faltered but his didn’t and you cried out as you pussy creamed and squirted all over his cock. His orgasm followed and he held you down onto him, ropes of his warm load spurting deep inside you, surely to impregnate you and create the anti-christ you so desperately wanted to mother.

His forehead pressed against yours and you stared into each other’s eyes as you came.

“Thank you Father, thank you God for using me.”

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

I’m thinking about tiny baby Wolfwood growing up in a church-affiliated orphanage. Do you think he grew up saying his prayers before bed every night? Even if it’s just an appeasement to his caretakers, do you think he got into the habit of doing it?

Then, when he was taken by the EoM and experimented on and trained and kept in a cell, did he stop? Did they call him a child of blessing, too? As they remade him? Who do you pray to when it is god’s good and faithful servants hurting you? When you meet what claims to be divine and he condemns you? How could this hell be anything but divine providence?

What god do you pray to when yours plays an active role in your suffering?

[bluereevesphotography]

St. Nicholas Church, Prague

[s-andthecity]