#priest x reader

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Short Stories:

Hell Fire

Yandere Priest x Herbalist Fem Reader

TW: abuse of power, yandere behavior, manipulation, and forced relationship

Pale hands affectionately cupped the soft cheeks of the sleeping maiden that rested on the bed in the dungeon. A bright smile on the young priest’s face as his fingers traced over her soft lips.

“You are finally here…” Aurel voice was as soft as a breeze. His blue eyes gentle and his lips pursed in thought. “You’re finally within my grasp.”

Aurel glanced around to make sure there were no other eyes watching before he crawled into the small bed beside (your name). His lanky arms wrapped around her vulnerable form in a vice like grip. Aurel buried his nose into her hair and deeply inhaled her sweet scent, a moan escaped his lips from how delectable (your name) smelled.

“I wonder if you’ll be happy to see me once you wake up.” Aurel thought aloud as his hands wandered her sleeping form. “We used to be so close when we were kids… we can get married just like we always wanted.”

Aurel brushed a few of his silver strands away from his blue eyes. His cheeks heated up at how beautiful (your name) had grown to be. “I’ve crawled my way to become a Cardinal, but I’m willing to bend the rules for you… so you just have to accept me.”

Aurel buried his face into her shoulders while he clutched her closer to his chest. His tongue clicked when he felt his she thinned out a bit. These heathens haven’t been feeding (your name) properly, have they? He’d punish them once he married her…

Aurel pressed a few stray kisses to her shoulders before he smiled to himself. He had destroyed her reputation as an herbalist by spreading rumors of her being a witch. It was a desperate and cowardly method, but she refused to be with him. What other choice did Aurel have? (Your name) had forced his hand for the last time and now she had the biggest choice to make.

Become his wife or burn at the pyre.

[werecreature-addicted]

Okay hear me out:

Monster priest 👀✨

Monster priest. Excellent idea.

There is something just ever so off-putting about the father. No one can really put their finger on it, everyone says it's something else that unnerves them ever so slightly. His eyes are such a light shade of brown they almost look yellow. His teeth are just a little too sharp- his smile painfully wide. He moves silently, he almost seems to appear out of thin air.

It's something much more intangible for you that sets your teeth on edge. The way he looks at you... like you're something he wants to eat. No one takes your concerns seriously, and everyone is a little uncomfortable around the father at first, but it's nothing to worry about. You'll get over it you just need to give it time.

You do everything you can to avoid being in the same room with him alone. When you're alone in the confession booth, you have no choice.

He always pushes the conversation in a certain direction, which he isn't supposed to do. He doesn't care if you've been greedy, or if you lied. He only cares if you've given into the sins of the flesh. Tell him about when you masturbate. Tell him about your one-night stands and the dirty thoughts that keep you up at night. Those are the kinds of sins he wants to help you atone for.

Well. Not so much Atone for, but submit too. He encourages you to chase your desires and learn what your body needs, but not just with anyone no no no, that would be sinful. You need to experiment with someone pure of heart- someone you can trust, a pillar of your community. Someone like... him.

Your head is spinning, you're still scared of him, still sure that he isn't safe, but... you want him. And it's clear that he wants you.

Don't worry too much, he'll be soft. As soft as a thing like him can be. It's not just hands that slide up your thighs, but shadowy tentacles, as well, thick black tendrils of smoke dig into your skin and hold your legs apart.

The tentacles grab at your chest- your throat, any part of you he can reach, keeping you pinned down as he takes you, makes you his. You should be stunned, or frightened, as his carefully constructed human mask slips revealing him for what he truly is- a monster. But one of those smokey- black arm things is between your legs making you dumb with pleasure.

Razor-sharp teeth sink into the side of your throat as he fucks you and you moan, it makes him laugh, a deep growling sound. You're like wet clay in his hands, his to mold into whatever image he pleases. He thinks he'll shape you into a perfect little slut.

[cillivnz]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑨𝑪𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

[𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪]

PAIRING — PRIEST!NANAMI KENTO x NUN!READER

SYNOPSIS — you shift across continents hoping to leave all behind that drifted you apart from the Lord, only to catch the sole reason of your departure waiting for you patiently, with a rosary in one hand and his cock in the other.

WORD COUNT — 2878

WARNINGS — NSFW. MODERN AU. OOC!KENTO (kinda). RELIGIOUS IMAGERY, THEMES & RELIGION IN GENERAL. BLASPHEMY, sacrilege, impure thoughts, cursing, sins & sinning, sex in a church, indecent use of the confessional, DUBCON. oral (m! receiving), fingering, clit-play, biting, nipple/breast-play, unprotected and penetrative sex (p! in v!), overstimulation, against a wall (?), voyeurism, degrading. NANAMI HAS A GOD COMPLEX. there is repetitive mentions of religious themes throughout the smut, from praying to other things.

A/N — GOOD GOD. i’m asking you all for forgiveness, but i needed to do this. i intended it for leon kennedy but something in me snapped and i changed it to a nanami kento fiction, WHICH IS WHY THERE IS MENTION OF A CHRIS REDFIELD, i was too lazy to change it and also i didn’t want to incorporate too much from the JJKverse, so we’ll just leave Redfield at that.

i am NOT anti-religion, this is a common fantasy and i just wished to try my hand at this sinister trope. please refer to the warnings and DO NOT PROCEED if anything mentioned makes you uncomfortable. apologies in advance for any inaccurate detail written. not proofread.

art credits — unknown [pinterest]

LISTENING TO: ‘THE SACRAMENT’ — HIM

[therefore the title].

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘, but you knew the Lord only wanted what was best for you, and so a new chapter in your life had begun.

A woman above materialism, you leave with only your bible and habit, but of course, you carried the last memory of your past life— a photograph your Sisters took of you and Father Redfield from your hometown, the church you had sworn celibacy to, near the Arklay Mountains.

You loved Chris— Father Redfield, the way you’d love the angels of the almighty, but at times this love prevented you from preaching, causing you to often ponder on your style of living, and the fact that doubt settled in your god-driven mind became the primary reason why you decided to move away, all the way to Tokyo.

Your feelings for Father Redfield made you question your vows to chastity, and you knew at once you needed to get away. So, you left the mountainous foliage at once and settled for the noisy city.

Upon arriving, you were welcomed by a ‘Sister Nobara”, with a soft face and piercing gaze, but none that lingered.

She walked you through the large and lonely halls of the massive church. The infrastructure of your hometown’s place of worship couldn’t compare to Tokyo’s, perhaps the difference in population was the reason why.

Throughout the walk to the nave, you felt an ominous sense of being watched— no, preyed upon, but you and your naïveté blamed it on your nerves. It worsened while you said your prayers, seeking forgiveness for the note on which you left: that doubt and urgency to succumb to hellish pleasures with the priest that couldn’t even reciprocate a smile back to you.

“Ah, there comes Father Kento,” Sister Nobara interrupted the last of your calls to the Lord, the one where you beseeched to attain enough strength to never succumb to lust. You quickly muttered a, “Amen”, and turned to Nobara. You looked at her for a brief moment, before your gaze followed hers and landed on the most devilishly handsome man you had ever seen.

Hell, you had to leave your home over a man who, now, you realise, isn’t even half as attractive as the man towering over you.

You backed away when the sudden proximity hit you, your subconscious mind immediately associating that eerie feeling in your gut with the presence of this man.

“Hello,” his deep voice broke the silence. “Greetings, Father,” you quickly averted your lingering stare onto the wooden floor. There was a stroke of amusement tainted in his tone, “Sister Nobara tells me you come from the Arklay Mountains.”

“She’s right,” you confirmed, still not eyeing him.

He nodded along, eyes still etched on your face.

“Father, if you could excuse me.” Sister Nobara suddenly spoke, causing you to look up at the departing woman. A “But—” was all you could mutter, before Kento put two-and-two-together and figured you sought out your quarters. “I don’t mind showing you around.”

“If it’s not too much trouble, Father.” You laughed, nervously, obvious to the subtle but definite bite of the Priest’s lower lip at the sound.

“No problem, follow me.”

The walk wasn’t as bad as you’d thought it to be; it was worse.

You couldn’t help but glance repeatedly at the seemingly older, definitely taller and the most handsome man you had ever dreamt of, and the fact that he hadn’t turned to look at you, nonetheless utter a single word, aggravated you.

He gracefully halted, and you knew you’d reached your quarters.

“There we are,” he announced, opening the door to let you in before him.

“It’s not much but—”

“It’s perfect.” You interrupted him with a warm smile, genuinely pleased with where you were to be stationed. Father Kento seemed pleased with your response, the small smile that broke out gave it away.

You instantly got to settling in, not that you had many things to place. Just your clothes, holy books and—

“Who is that?” Asked Father Kento the minute your hand reached for the framed memory.

“Father Redfield from the Arklay Church.” You spoke in monotone.

“Is he why you left?”

You didn’t have to answer.

The way you clutched the photograph tighter gave Nanami Kento all the answers he needed.

“Confessional is always open.”

“𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍.” The words rang in your ears, floating in the whirlpool of your disturbed mind throughout supper, and the fact that Father Kento was nowhere in sight was no solace. You decided to say, “Fuck it,” in a god-abiding way, and made your way over to the said confessional.

You step inside the wooden booth, steadying your breath you heard movement on the other side.

“Good evening, Sister.”

“I’m glad you obeyed me.” He said, seemingly in nonchalance, but you could picture a cocky smirk on his handsome face.

“Yes, father,” was all you could muster up.

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He said so casually, yet compelling enough to get you to open up.

“You were right, Father Kento,” you sighed.

“It’s Chris—Father Redfield.”

“He’s, uh, the reason why I left.”

“Why would a man of the Lord drive you to that limit, Sister?” You heard that raspy voice of Father Kento’s inquire.

All you could muster up was a sigh. Talking about your feelings was something you’ve always struggled with, never there being a crucial need to do so, to redeem, like tonight.

“Because I would find myself thinking about him.”

“In what way?” Father Kento asked almost immediately, not wasting a breath.

“In impurity, lust, and love.”

The sigh on the other wooden end of the booth was almost unheard by you. “Describe them.” Father Kento broke the silence after a moment of halting. “W-what?”

“Describe your thoughts. What did you want to do with him?” You heard fiddling, but chose to ignore it.

“I would— would think about him and I, romantically. If and how things would’ve been different had we not chosen this life. Then, it was natural for excitement to settle in when he’d gently brush past me,” you oddly found yourself at ease, tranquil and nostalgic as you reminisce over the past.

“What about lust?” He interrupted in a tight voice.

“Uh,”

“I thought of his large, aged and veiny hands: grabbin—grabbing me, groping my… breasts…”

The ruffling on the other side silenced you, and when Father Kento noticed, he spoke in a stern tone, “Sister,”

“I need you to let it all out.”

So, you took a deep breath, and did exactly that.

You tell the priest how badly you’d grown accustomed to that ache between your thighs, how damp you would feel while merely observing the older man casually interact with the churchgoers; the tinge of bitterness that coursed through your veins, replacing the electricity that he’d often ignite, but now that you see him caressing the arm of another woman, much like the way he’d do to you, you’d find yourself unravelled in the sin of envy.

“I would find myself wanting to start a family with Father Redfield— by any means necessary. I would’ve wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me, carry his load inside me each night, sleeping in the warmth of his arms while his cum leaks out of me, still puffy and sore but in the need of more—”

You heard him groan.

He fucking groaned.

Your sinful ramblings would’ve persisted had the feeling in your gut not begged for you to shut the fuck up that very instance.

“Tell me, Sister,”

“Was it Father Redfield you felt such vulgarity for, or perhaps, just the thought of a superior— One with the Lord— indulging in you?”

You were speechless. Surely there was no insinuation in his sultry tone, right?

“I— I don’t know, Father.” You cleared your throat, thighs involuntarily rubbing together. You raised your palm to bite the back of it, softly, but enough to distract you. A habit you thought you had rid yourself of, but it still lingers.

“Oh, I think you do.”

Before you could deny the blatant accusation, your eyes land on Father Kento through the open wooden network.

You had now realised that this was the first time throughout your confession that you looked up— at him, and the sight awaiting you had caused you to clutch your rosary and gasp the first profanities you’ve dared to say in decades.

Father Kento sat on a ruby, velvet sofa, while his robe lifted up to his stomach. The first thing your eyes trail to is the smug, sinister look on his face, his slicked-back, disheveled hair, his glimmering eyes and pink lips. Then, his broad neck lacking the amice that is supposed to adorn it. Between his thick thighs, stood tall and angry the most vicious thing you’ve seen.

What made it worse was that he had a hand wrapped around the leaking tip, and in that very hand, was his rosary.

“Like what you see, Sister?” He called you out, and you immediately averted your gaze.

You looked to the ceiling, folding your hands and dropping to your knees.

“No, none of that.” Father Kento ‘tsk’ed at the sound of your prayers, making his way over to your side of the confessional.

“As pretty as you look while begging for mercy,”

“ 𝑰 ’𝑴 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑮𝑶𝑫 𝑵𝑶𝑾. ”

He grabbed ahold of your joined hands, opening them just enough to wrap them around the girth of his cock.

“Pray,” he said, squeezing your cheeks together. When your mouth forcefully opened, he shoved his tip past your plump lips, and you instinctively allowed more inside.

“Good girl.” He groaned, motioning your hands back in forth on his cum-slick cock.

Blasphemy coursed through your blood and all thoughts and prayers left your mind, and you twirled your tongue around his cruel tip.

He growled, “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” pushing back your veil and bandeau to let your hair out and grip it.

“Oh, you have no idea what a punishment the past few hours had been,”

“I’d been doing so good. ‘So good,” his voice was weak yet hoarse; he damn near lost his mind when he hit the back of your throat, biting back a whimper.

“I was on the path to salvation, but you,”

“You just had to show up and send me spiralling to hell.”

He plunged into your tight throat one last time, savouring the sight of your hollowed cheeks and plump lips wrapped around his shaft. You bat your long, thick lashes at him and his heart skips a beat when he looks into those doe eyes of yours.

“Get up,” he yanks you up by the arm.

“Strip.”

You were hesitant while bidding farewell to your attire, but there was unknown fervency in your movements.

Once bare, you couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“This is so wrong—”

“—But do you want it?” He asked, his was was stern and soft, his recollected breath made his velvety voice return.

“More than anything I’ve ever known.” You answered in all honesty; only truth came out of you in the home of the Lord.

There was a soft smirk on Father Kento’s face that widened into a genuine smile upon hearing your words. “Come here, then.” He motioned for you close the eternal gap between the two of you, and you nearly leaped into his arms, the distance growing unbearable.

Kissing you, tasting himself on you, Father Kento spoke in between kisses, “I don’t want a fucking word out of you, okay? You’re going to take cock quietly.”

“We want this to stay between us and God, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him corner you against the wooden box.

His eyes darted up to yours and then trailed down to your body. His frustration aggravated at the sight of you, and the fact that you’re the Lord— his master’s forbidden fruit heightens his senses with carnal instincts, making the Goddess in front of him even more insatiable.

“You know I’d have taken my time with you, right?” He nods, enchanting your dumb and dazed state to follow him.

“But you understand how badly I need to be inside you?” You nod, you need it, too.

“And you’ve sworn in celibacy?” He quirks an eyebrow, but the minute you felt the slightest touch of his fingertips along your velvety folds, you forgot all your vows at once.

“Answer me.” His voice carried a trace of humour, but stoic nonetheless, finding your clit and pressing his thumb onto it.

“Y-yes. Yes.” You bit down on your lip and the priest nearly lost it then and there. His free hand meets your face and tucks the pillowy lip out of your teeth’s grasp, stroking it back and forth.

His hand left your cunt, earning pathetic whimpers from you. It went back to his cock, jerking it a few times, leaving you mesmerised, before he gathered the slick that leaked out of the tip and smeared it onto your pussy.

“Prepping you.” He simply grunted, easing one finger into your tight hole. Your walls show hospitality and gladly accept the digit curling inside them.

You were a virgin, but masturbation wasn’t foreign to you.

“More,” you ached, and he obliged.

By the end of your aching heat, you had (barely) accustomed two of his long, slender yet thick fingers. The fervent circles of his thumb on your clit were torturous.

On the brink of your orgasm, spiralling into ecstasy, Father Kento pulled you out. Like a sinister saviour, he pulled you out of enlightenment.

“No! Please— Why?” You blabbered bullshit, too fucked out to care about anything but release.

“I told you I need to be inside you.” His voice was hoarse, the lust evident in his tone.

Watching you right on the edge of unravelling had him throbbing and twitching.

“I need to feel that tight cunt.” He was damn near hyperventilating. “Baby, I’ll go crazy.” He chokes out a sob when you grab his cock by the angry tip and align it with your hole.

He smiled at you, causing you to clench.

How was this blonde bastard so handsome?

Lifting you up with sheer ease, he let your legs wrap around his waist, your arms crossing over his neck, and his dick plunging into you, inch by inch.

You thanked God the tiny booth was tall, so you had enough space to let your head fall back without it touching the ceiling, courtesy of the man balls deep inside you, standing at 6’0.

The snug fit knocked the air out of both of you. Tears ran down your flushed cheeks like a hot spring, the passion with which he embraced you, devouring your warmth against the cold wood set every cell in your body ablaze.

“You’re so fucking— tight. ‘Hot, tight pussy squeezing so nicely around my cock.” Father Kento began pounding into you. Your legs had began to tremble already, but your vicelike grip on his waist and broad shoulders didn’t falter.

His fat cock fucked into you with desperation, the carnality of being wanted so much, so sinisterly by a man who had sworn chastity makes your soul quiver.

You’ll need to make one hell of an apology to the Lord.

As if reading your mind, the blonde priest spoke in a hoarse voice, “Pray.”

“For your sake and mine, you better fucking pray.”

So, you join your hands and close your eyes, bring Father Kento’s face closer to your chest. He closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of your soft breasts embracing his face like the pillowy clouds of heaven he’d never see.

With every thrust, your would slide up the wall, cunt gushing along his length. You said your prayers silently but couldn’t help letting out wanton cries when the tip of his cock would hit a certain spot inside you, and hit it repeatedly.

You were too far gone to hear him say, “Put it in my mouth,” not knowing what he referred to, until he hit the flesh right above your breast. You struggled to let go of his neck, but grabbed the supple flesh and lead it to his ravenous mouth, like a lamb being led to slaughter.

His hot mouth on your nipple; tugging, licking, circling, and nibbling. His cock inside you, fucking you at godspeed. Two of his fingers on your clit, rubbing maniacally; all had you coming undone in seconds.

“Oh, Kento!” You moaned pornographically, driving him to the point of release and insanity when the rhythmic contractions of your cunt pulsated around his twitching cock, and in mere seconds, Father Kento buried his seed deep inside you.

“Good god.” He groaned, parting with your nipple with a ‘pop’ and overstimulating you with slow, deep thrusts; his fingers never once leaving your clit.

“That—”

“—Needs another confession altogether.”

And so every night you’d find yourself cornered up in the confessional, apologising for same mistake you’ve been making every night, with the man whose forgiveness you beg for, on your knees, and repentance he delivers with a rosary in one hand and his cock in the other.

[lovelylambi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 † . ☥

warnings — nsfw, hierophillia, sacrilege, religious themes, corruption kink, blasphemy, finger fuk¡ng, prohibition, overstimulation, subordination, dacryphillia . *

this is my first written smut so enjoy as i wrote is as best as i could ♡

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

The night was rainy in the midst of the night. You arrived to the empty candle lit cathedral, expecting nobody but you. Not a single soul was seen as the rows of seats sat ghostly empty. You were all alone, alone to pray, except you weren't alone, the priest's figure stood ominously, turned away from you.

Every time you'd visit your sermons, you'd always meet his gaze, a sinful feeling of shame lingered everytime you had thought about him. The way his roman cassock suited him as he'd stood there, speaking his sermonic lectures, his image had lingered even after you went home. You knew you had to repent your sins, as it had consumed you. A confession you'd regret but had too for the lord to not make you crave a sinful consumption of guilt and shame, to be forgiven for such impurities.

Your heels tapped against the marble floor beneath you as you walked closer towards the stage of the church. Surrounded you was empty abyss that occupied the rows of seats. The Priest was turned away, lighting candles and praying away as the lights dimly lit the whole cathedral, his figure casting a shadow onto the walls.

The cathedral was hauntingly quiet. Faint organs played when nobody was even there, you can almost hear the dead saints singing a choir. You walked closer, creeping behind the priest until he gazed behind his shoulder, soon turning around, fully meeting your innocent eyes. His tall dark figure stood there while you fiddled your hands together. He scanned you up and down, noticing your quiet timidity. "Father..." You softly gulped down as you felt your throat tighten. He spoke softly while the shadows had caressed his face. His face, soft and comforting, but also cold and emotionless. "Yes my child?" His voice echoed throughout the church, it was authoritative and soft. His hazeled eyes were just as soothing as his words. He slowly blinked at you, his gaze almost staring through your soul. Despite his words being gentle, a hint of danger dwelled in his eyes. You couldn't help but to melt as his scent filled your perimeter, it smelled of subtle incense and cologne. "I – I have something I need to confess, father...." You timidly spoke. His presence seeped into you like a knife. He spoke soft and warm, almost tempting and soothingly haunting, "You do?" The Priest had a strong aura about him that you just didn't even have the mind to back away. You stood before him with your knees trembling, and you could feel his gaze scanning you.

The Priest gently shuts a bible in his hand and places it onto the podium. He then stepped backward, gesturing for you to follow him inside a dark, empty confession booth. His footsteps echoed into the dark booth. You could feel his presence lingering behind the wall, the air felt heavier in there somehow, almost suffocating with the guilt and shame of sin. You didn't know if you'd want to leave while you still can. His presence alone just caused you to quiver at the thought him. He closed the booth and stood there, leaning forward. His shadow casted across over the wall, you couldn't help but stare at his outline. With only the sound of his faint breath, with a sheer wooden windowed–wall separating you, you could hear him quietly utter. "What do you have to confess my child...?" His voice soft. "I have been thinking sinful things... father... things I might not be forgiven for." You spoke in shame. You could feel the guilt loom over you like a shadow. "Sinful things?" His voice echoes out softly, you felt his gaze wander on you like a sharp arrow in the darkness. You couldn't help but to feel your breathing become heavy.

Even if he was the priest and was meant to protect you from sin, the thought of him being alone with you made your heart beat. But you also couldn't help that the sensation was somewhat soothing... but it was wrong, it fueled inside your bones like a disease... "Yes..." You clenched your legs together while you grasped the lining if you skirt as you sat there. You could feel the sinister thoughts not going away, as if god was almost listening. "And what are these sinful thoughts lingering inside of you..?"

"You..." You suddenly spoke of it, the humiliation of coming forward. You almost wanted to cry as you perch your head down in shame and guilt, for someone who's to forgive your sins, you felt an immense burden as it was your own priest that you were sinning for. "Tell me my child..." You were nervous, the thought of what he would do now was worrying. You worried about how he saw you now, as you were an impure girl, not to you, but to him also. You'd always see him at church, but now you see him in a much more sinister light. "What is it that you've thought.. ?"

"I – I can't say, father." Your voice almost plead with a sharp breath. His voice slowly drifted out again and was now more menacing. "Tell me." You felt like a criminal. He knew that the more you'd keep it in, the more guilty you'd feel. Your breathing was getting heavier, it was becoming harder to confess under his gaze. Your legs felt weak. Was this wrong? He was a priest devoted to god. Your voice fell in desperation, "Father.... I want do die for how I am sin itself..."

The Father leaned forward the booth's window, listening carefully to what more you had to say. The only noise was your trembling voice speaking through the gaps of the booth. Your hands clenched tightly together on your lap, hoping for forgiveness, hoping to be cleansed from your sins. He listened intently, soft and calm he was. His gentle voice filled the booth once again, "The lord forgives you dear child..." He was remorseful.

"Father... I repent..." You plead with a soft cry. His voice was deep as he kept leaning in closer. "Now that you've confessed your sins.. you must atone for them."

"Atone them..?"

His voice lowered into a deep whisper. You felt your body grow hotter by the second as he spoke. "Yes... atone..." The way he said it made it sound as if you were about to be punished... you felt even more nervous now, you almost couldn't take it... "Repenting is one thing, but the Lord does not forget easily. You will have to make up for it my child, or else the Lord will not forgive you." You felt yourself shiver at the sound of his words. "How will I... father." You spoke soft and sincere to him. His voice was full of authority, he knew exactly how to get a little lamb full of sin and somber to shiver. "Repentance requires atonement. The only way to truly repent for your sin is through me..."

"And how exactly.." You softly murmured. Listening carefully through the other side, it was cold and silent, as if he wasn't there at all. "Father....." You spoke out once again. No answer...

Soon the door swung open, revealing the dark figure of the mysterious priest. You flinched at his sudden appearance. He gestured you step out of the confessional booth, stepping aside. You brush past his way and followed him towards the stage of the church. The Priest came to a stop near a marble slab table, columns vertically placed onto the sides. The big gothic glass pane window ominously glowed an almost reddish.

You stood in front of him, wondering what he wanted. What you needed.. "Get on your knees..." He demanded. Abide by his command, you knelt to the cold bare floor on your bare knees. "Pray..." It was almost a threatening command.

You prayed for the sins to be forgiven as you closed your eyes and placed your palms together in prayer.

You prayed. Hoping for forgiveness. It was all you could do for the sin you had confessed. The candle flames dancing against you. You fluttered your eyes innocently up towards the priest, your eyes sparkling with the candle lit flames. Praying for any saint that would listen to you and spare you from the sin as you and the father's eyes conjured, his gaze watching your every move as you worshipped for forgiveness. He watched from above like the sinister thoughts you've thought about, it was no different. You closed your eyes and spoke, "Lord, I am a sinner, forgive me for I have sinned before you. Wash away my sin, purify me, and help me turn away from this sin....." You sincerely repented, words slipping softly out of your tongue. You opened your eyes once more, his grimace gaze filled you again. "The lord forgives child, but in this world of impurities, I have not, not quite yet.." He spoke coldly. You slowly stood up, wondering why the prayer hasn't satisfied him.

"Father....?" You questioned. He gently grabbed you by the shoulders and backed you up against the edge of the marble table, his presence looming over you, entrapping you against your will. He didn't dare touch you, not yet.

As stared at you closely, you knew he was about to do something sinful for he is a priest... Yet you felt no remorse. You were his sacrificial lamb to kill. He leaned in, making you more nervous than you already were. His lips merely inches away, you couldn't help but flutter your eyes to his lips. You were in desperation, he was giving you something you wanted, desired. You felt the resurgence of your fantasies, you couldn't help it, he was taunting you. You couldn't take it anymore.

Soon, you couldn't help yourself, as you leaned your lips closer and closer, your lips softly latched onto his like a desperate puppy. His lips devoured yours relentlessly. He grasped his hand on the nape of your neck. There was a taste of chocolate, a sweetness lingering. His lips tasted of salvation that was soon filled with sin. You were now his. You couldn't help but moan for more to consume you, to drown you and take control of your body. To lose you in his lips. His body pressed against yours tightly. The candles danced against the shadows that surrounded him.

You were all his to worship. All his to cleanse. You began to shiver as you unlatched your lips from his, gently pushing him away. "This is all wrong....." The prohibition of it all made you crave for more. It was taboo as you were abide by a man of god. "Forgive me father... I beg you..." You switch between both of his eyes. You were in the sick of it all, as you begged for his redemption. You knew you couldn't redeem yourself anymore, as you had sinned worse than your own thoughts. His face was almost warm and expressional, his eyes giving away lust. "Let the lord forgive me.... I'll do anything... father." You pleaded. "Anything?" The Priest says low and hypnotic. "Yes...." You gave in.

He smirked softly. Your obedience was all he wanted. With just one more step, his lips would finally surge yours once more. His fingers almost reached your lips but didn't. He kept playing the game of your obedience, enticing your innocence and virtue. His voice grew lower. He was almost whispering his words. "Would you do anything and everything I ask of you without hesitation.....?"

You shook your head hesitantly as he slowly wrapped his hand around the nape of your neck once again, softly gasping a sharp breath from his touch. He was merely inches away from your lips. You felt almost lost in the temptation once again. Those warm and gentle lips only the father possessed, was meeting yours once more. You softly whimpered underneath your breath, your palms clenching the table tighter as they soon travelled along his chest, you could feel the remnants of the cross on his neck, making you feel more guilty as you felt his tongue against yours.

The Priest's soft and gentle hands lingered onto your waistline as he kept his mouth against yours, you could almost faint from your delicate and sensitive touch as soft whimpers escaped.

The only thing that mattered now was your sins that were now about to be committed by the one who was supposed to cleanse it.

His soft touch around your waistline picked you up and placed you onto the marbled table, making you wrap your legs around the priest as you felt him against you. You were wrapped in the heat of the Father's body. His hot breath against your neck, his hands wandering around the curve of your waist.

He was taking control. He began to slowly travel his hand along your thigh, gently caressing his hand along your soft delicate skin. Your breath shuddered with each passing moment. Your moans grew into something more passionate as he reached his fingers higher and higher on your thighs, until he reached to your white linen underwear, you knew you were going to repent for life...

Your sudden shutter of soft moans spilled out of you as he touched you. It was almost sadistic with the way he gazed into your eyes. The Priest gave no mercy as he slipped inside of your underwear and mercilessly rubbed your cunt. Your body began to quiver. Nobody had touched you like this. You were his virgin mary, he knew he would make you pray for more.

He seeped his fingers in. Making you shutter your head backwards as you bit your lip. Your soft whimpering moans grew slightly more as he seeped his fingers more and more inside of you. The innocence you wore was an illusion, you were nothing but a a sinful girl that was taken advantage by the Priest. "More...." You pleaded, moaning in desperation. Grasping the black cloth of his clothes. He took in your request, sinking his fingers deeper and deeper inside the abyss of you, in and out of you. He could almost see tears in your eyes, knowing you wanted to cry because of the guilty pleasure you felt from the sins he was committing, making you the left ruins of a sacrificial lamb in his presence.

You were repenting to him, worshipping him as he made you lose control of all your senses, receiving uncontrollable pleasure from a man devoted to god. You felt yourself lose grip with each kiss you made. You were being cleansed in the ultimate sin. Sin which would send you to hell but you didn't care as the priest was only taking you there for his pleasure, you deserved it as you are the sin itself, you were a disgusting girl. You gasped out more whimpers, unlatching your lips from his suffocation. You started to feel overwhelmed at the pleasure, you wanted no more as you begged. "No more, please...." You softly cried out. He didn't care as he continued to finger you with no remorse, his fingers covered in your cum. He thought how impure you were to have to get wet at the priests touch ever so easily. You kept whimpering, wanting him to stop as you became overstimulated with sensation. His hands only travelled further inside of you as you begged him. You could feel the sensations of shame filling your body for your pleas for him to stop were nothing but begging for more to him. You were his to take. He could make you sin over and over again. Your whimpers was the sound of your repentance to his ears. Your pleas for him to stop were simply fuel to the flames that were burning inside you. You felt your mind slipping as he watched you orgasm, your legs quivering. You tried grabbing his wrist but he continued to pleasure you. You were losing yourself, the innocence was slipping through your fingers, the sins were consuming you. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You couldn't help it. The priest couldn't help it either. Each kiss was bringing you both towards the edge. Your whimpering cries becoming more uncontrollable as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

Soon his fingers slipped out of you as you then fall back against the top of the marble table, twitching as you clasped your knees together, your hands grasping at your pussy. The priest seemed to be done with his baptism. He blinked slowly as he was finally satisfied. He walked around the table, reaching to the other side where your head laid, he overlooked you from above as you notice him towering over you. "You're forgiven for all the sins....." He soon reached his wet cummed covered fingers slowly into your mouth. You whimpered as you didn't want to, but he insisted as this was part of your repentance. You licked them clean, quenching the taste of your own cum.

[monstersighing]

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

AFAB Reader x priest

Content: Blasphemy, priest kink, penetrative sex, creampie, public sex, dirty talk.

Title: Confessional

+++

You go into the confessional box because the young priest fresh from the seminary is there.

You spill out every filthy thought and desire that you’ve had to him. What you think of when you masturbate, how often you do it, how the shame of confessing makes your cunt leak and face burn.

You tell the priest that when you opened your mouth to receive the host from his hand at communion you imagined him pushing his fingers in your mouth to suck on. How the dry host stuck to the roof of your mouth. That you wished it was his plump leaking cock you were tonguing instead.

His breathing gets louder, laboured. You hear a shifting sound of fabric. You can only see an indistinct shadow of the priest through the confessional screen, but he is bent forward, bowed over his lap now. His discomfort and desire fan yours. You clench your thighs around nothing. You tell him that even now, in the midst of your confession, you are imagining new sins you could commit with him: being bent over the altar as his cock slams in you, over and over, your desperate hands clenching the altar covering under you, crying out to God.

When he gives your three rosaries to say to atone, he speaks slowly, stutters. As you leave the confessional you hear a bitten off moan.

You kneel in front of a pew and begin to pray, but before you’re even finished with your first Hail Mary you push a hand down your waistband so you can rub at your clit.

You feel a presence from behind you and the priest is there. He pulls you to your feet, grasps your wrists and pushes you hands flat on the on the pew in front you. When he grasps your jaw to draw your attention to the altar and the crucified Christ hanging above it, you moan.

“Start again,” he says. “Look at him and repent.” His body is pressed full length behind you. You can feel the hardness of his cock against your back.

You can only say “Please please please.” The priest is holding your face towards the altar, but your begging isn’t directed at God.

“We will do this, we will repent, and then we will both be clean,” the priest says. He grinds his cock slowly against your ass, “There is no way back from this, only through, I think. But we must temper your pleasure with pain, so you learn.” He paws against your tits and then pinches your nipples so pain sparks bright from them. When you cry out, he twists your nipples harder. The pain and the pleasure twist and become one. Your cunt throbs.

The priest pulls down your pants and leaves them trapped over your thighs. You feel him move back for a second, then hear the rasp of his zip. You feel him line up his cockhead with your hole, and then he fucks in with one hard push. Once inside he slams into you fast and desperate, and your legs shake. His fingers bite down hard on your hips. You can hear the slick sound your cunt makes with each plunging stroke of his cock. You drop your head to your hands and feel as his thrusts become staccato and he spurts inside you with a groan. You come a moment after, on the feeling of cum filling your hole and the priest fucking it deeper with one last grinding push inside you.

He leans forward and whispers against your ear, “Four rosaries now,” he says. “And I’ll see you for private confession in the vestry next week.”

[buttonsfleas]

KINKTOBER 23

Father Bryce x reader "Maria"

Day 4

Me and my friends were in trouble for skipping biology class. We all had to go into Father Bryce's office, one by one and I was last.

"Meet us when you get out in our dorms." My friend "olivia" told me.

I hated Father Bryce and I had my reasons for it. I was a regular student of his who got in trouble. Almost every week I would be in his office.

I walked into his office and sat on the left chair that faces his desk after closing the door.

"Maria...my least favourite trouble maker. Did you prompt this upon your friends?" He said as he was leaning down with his face a few inches from mine and his hands on the table for support.

I just nodded.

"Speak to me. Now." He said sternly. I'm probably the #1 person who he sees in his office...should I get a reward for that? I haven't yet, so probably not.

"Yeah, sir." I said quietly.

"Sir? Sir!? SIR!?"

"Ma'am, actually." I said, trying to be a smart ass.

"Don't try and be a smart ass with me or I will put you in a whole world of hurt." He said coldly.

I stood up and looked in his eyes, having the same fury building up inside of me like he has every time he has to deal with me and said "then why don't 'cha, huh!?" I said sternly.

He stood still, locking eyes with me a moment before pushing my face on his desk and then standing behind me with his muscular frame towering over my ass. He lifted my skirt up and caressed my ass, making you whimper for him.

"You wanna play? Let's fucking play." He said and then rubbed his hard member in his pants on my body, groaning with each buck his hips made.

He then pulled down my wet snd horny panties, stroking his entrance into me and then taking his cock out and fucking me roughly without a condom, and mercy.

"You're such a slut for me, aren't you? You wanna be fucked by your god damn priest all the time for your satisfaction, don't'cha!? Huh!? You fucking don't like it now, do ya!?" He said things like this to me as if i was a bad dog and he just gets his satisfaction by fucking me until I was gone.

His balls slapped on my pussy lips and his cock, our bodied made wet, slapping noises and loud groans and whimpers that showed how much we needed eachother. Our bodies were hot and horny from what was happening and I realised how much he wanted this. He needed this. I couldn't belive I was doing this with my own priest. Its like if I were in a fever dream.

His cock became more hard and he was fucking me roughly and then I needed more from him, I needed to have what he wanted from me, his child. His cock felt like it was going to explode and then he finally did it. My priest and head teacher cummed inside of me.

He took his cock out and then pulled my panties and skirt up and gave me a few kisses on my neck.

"Mmmhhh...you're my good girl. My girl." He whispered softly to me as I sat on his lap as he sat in his desk-chair and he wrapped his arm around my waist whilst removing all of the detentions I had that month.

[itsrheasgirl]

FORBIDDEN LOVE - PART 6

The Forbidden Love series follows a relationship between Rhea x Reader.

•

The Reader has a strong friendship with Liv Morgan.

•

Liv is in love with The Reader but hasn’t told them.

•

fem!reader - rhea x reader.

mentions of priest x reader.

•

TW: smut (18+) minors please do not interact

•

You felt so suspicious rummaging through Rhea’s bag like this, what would you say if someone caught you? Maybe she’d let you store your hotel key there, or perhaps she’d asked you to get something for her. You’d think of something if the time came, you were sure. The soft jingle of keys caused you to sigh in relief, pulling the small bundle of keys from the bag and tucking them in your jean pocket before closing the bag back up and returning it to the locker in which it came from.

Hurrying from the locker room, you hush out a loud groan as you collide with the broad expanse of Damian Priest’s back. Your gaze shifting skyward to look up at the muscular male as he turns round with a soft chuckle.

“Woah, woah. Where you off to in such a rush, kiddo?”

He chortle, his palm raising to once more ruffle the top of your head. One swift move has you scoop beneath his monstrous palm, he wasn’t catching you this time. Stepping to the side as your brow furrowed playfully, your slender forearms cross over you chest. Why did he always have to mess up your hair?

“Back to the hotel.”

You were to the point with your answer, your tongue poking out between your lips quickly before disappearing back into your mouth. He laughed, shaking his head as he watched you back away from him.

“In such a rush?”

He questioned. His thick brow arching as he searched your features for signs of a lie. You bob your head gently, your palms pushing into your back pockets in attempt to hide Rhea’s car keys from Priest’s watchful gaze. You could see the clear quizzical expression claim Priest’s features, your fingers curling around the keys.

“Ubers waiting.”

You reply, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss against Priest’s cheek before turning on your heels to swiftly head for the exit, keeping the keys locked tightly in your palm as you remove them from your pocket, calling back over your shoulder so he couldn’t stop you from leaving.

“I’ll see you later.”

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

You weren’t sure how long you’d been sat in the car, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel as you waited patiently for Rhea’s arrival. The arena had emptied out by now, she couldn’t be much longer right?

A soft rap of knuckles against the glass caused you to finally return to reality and lift your head, lips curving into a warm grin as you locked eyes with those oceanic hues. Rhea’s fingers wiggle slowly as a sly smirk claimed her lips, stepping back as you pop open the drivers side door to get out.

“Finally.”

You quipped, leaning against the car and waiting patiently for Rhea to speak. Her palm slowly pushed the car door closed, not once taking her gaze off you. She’d cleaned off the remnants of her makeup, bare faced and beautiful as you looked into each others eyes. Scanning across her form, you notice a few small scratches scattered across her shoulders. Charlotte had clearly gotten in a few good shots during that match, but no one could beat the eradicator. Reaching out your fingers towards a large scratch that cast across her left shoulder, you trace the tips over the raised skin gently. Rhea had taken a beating or two in her career and tonight was just another on the list.

“You did great tonight.”

Even with the damage, her skin was still so smooth beneath your fingertips. She didn’t seem fazed as you trace over the curve of her shoulder and down the length of her arm, following the lines of her forearm tattoos as you smile softly. Rhea had yet to say anything as her palm releasing the handle of her suitcase to grasp at your wrist, swiftly spinning you round to face the car, she pressed her lips against your ear and spoke.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The soft flirtatious tone was back in her voice, the hairs on the back of your neck once more standing on end as your lids fluttered closed. She had to stop doing this to you, was she playing mind games? Was she actually flirting with you? She had initiated the kiss you’d shared, she had asked you to wait for her. You had never expected anything to come of your feelings for Rhea, but all of a sudden things had begun to change.

You sat in the passenger seat motionless as Rhea threw her bags in the trunk, your palms damp with sweat as you ran through every scenario of what this all meant. Maybe it was nothing, maybe Rhea just wanted someone to drive back to the hotel with. The sound of the drivers side door closing pulled you from your thoughts, your head craning to look over at Rhea as she started the car’s ignition. She flashed you a warm smile, the twinkle in her eyes causing your own smile to grow. She really was so beautiful. Buckling your belt, you rest your elbow against the window and lean into your palm.

The hotel wasn’t far from the arena, you’d actually intended to walk back but your were grateful for the ride. The temperature still dropped pretty cold in LA at this time of year and you’d forgotten your jacket in a hurry to not be late. Music played quietly as you drove the streets without speaking, the sound of Rhea clearing her throat the first thing you’d payed attention to since setting off.

“I’m glad you waited.”

Rhea’s gaze remained out the window as she drove, her palm sliding from the steering wheel to rest gently on top of your thigh, her fingertips tracing circles against the denim as the car slowed down to a stop. Where you back already? Glancing out the window, you see nothing but an empty parking lot. Your manicured brow furrowing as you return your gaze to Rhea’s features, a sharp gasp pulling from your chest as you’re met by her plush kiss. You resist the urge to pull away like you’d done the night before, she clearly wanted this just as much as you did.

A soft hum vibrates from your lips as you scoop your palm around the back of Rhea’s neck, pulling her closer to you as your lips begin to move in unison. Your tongue breaking past the barrier of Rhea’s lips, exploring her mouth as her own tongue battled yours for dominance. It wasn’t often that you got second chances and you weren’t about to miss out on an intimate moment with Rhea again. Fumbling with your seatbelt until it unlocks, you pull it free from your body and slide over onto Rhea’s lap. The base of the steering wheel pressed against your back as you shifted to put one thigh on either side of her waist, sliding both palms over her shoulders before they find themselves tangled within Rhea’s silky black hair. You softly nip at her lower lip, sucking it between your lips as you gently tug at her onyx locks. Rhea’s head tilting back only slightly as you pull, keeping her lower lip locked in your pearly whites.

She didn’t even bother to fight your dominance over her, Rhea’s thumbs hooked under the hem of your tight crop top and swiftly tugged it up and over your head in one swift motion. Tossing it aside to the passenger seat before her palms found your hips and her lips found your jugular, her teeth grazing against the supple flesh as your head tilted back in complete bliss.

A soft moan parts your lips as Rhea eagerly sucks on the soft flesh of your jugular vein, her fingertips dance slowly up the length of your back before her nails dragged back down. Yet another soft moan releasing from your throat as your spine arches, your perked breasts rising and falling as your breathing began to tremor.

Rhea hums in desire at the way she was able to make you moan, the tip of her tongue trailing up the length of your neck as her hands pulled you down into her lap while you squirm in pleasure, even the simplest of touches from the Aussie beauty had you weak at the knees. You’d spent so many nights dreaming of a moment like this, Rhea’s hands on your body and your hands in her hair, her lips feverish against your own as your tongues fought each other for dominance. Rotating your hips against Rhea’s own, you bite down on your lip with your canines so hard it draws blood.

“Shit.”

You groan causing Rhea to pull back in worry, her oceanic gaze searching your features for what was wrong. Had she hurt you? A bead of blood pooled on your lip, your hand reached up to wipe it away but is stopping abruptly as Rhea grasped your wrist to stop you.

“Awe, poor baby.”

She purred, her lips once more finding yours as she sucked the small bead of crimson liquid into her mouth before playfully nipping at the delicate cut. You wince slightly, the small cut stinging as the cool breeze from the air conditioner whipped around you.

Your nipples peaked as the icy air prickled against your skin, Rhea’s fingertips tracing down the contours of your stomach causing your back to arch against the steering wheel once more. Winding your fingers into her raven locks, you pull Rhea’s visage down towards your chest, welcoming her lips as she captured one of your nipples between her teeth, gently sucking on it for only a second before moving to the other.

You’re biting down on your lip once more without realizing, the taste of pennies wash over your tongue as crimson color coats it. Your fingers clawing against the back of Rhea’s neck as she ravished your breasts in heated kisses and playful bites.

As Rhea pulls back, your palms remain curled around her neck. Your breathing heavy and your brow sweaty, you move your thumbs to brush them over Rhea’s cheekbones. A large grin claimed both your lips as you stare into each others eyes, your breathing labored as you tried to steady your heartbeat. The glimmer of Rhea’s crystal gaze shifting to the purple coloring that formed under the skin across your chest, her tongue coaxing across her lips before she spoke.

“Oops.”

She uttered, tracing her thumb over the bruised flesh.

“What?”

The word is almost a pant as it falls from your lips, one of your palm pushing the stray tendrils that fell about Rhea’s face away and behind her ear. Rhea smirked, leaning against your palm as her features remain locked on the purple blemishes that grew darker by the second.

“I guess this means you’re mine.”

[callsigncrash]

Father Francis HCs

Just finished Dominion and oh my gods. I know it’s a bad thing but I love this man.

Notes/TW: Blasphemy, quiet affairs with a priest, possible violence, and NSFW under the cut.

________________________________________________

You must have really drove him to distraction.

He thinks he’s hiding his affection pretty well until Merrin brings it up.

He gets so bashful around you. He just can’t help it! The shame and school boy anxiety really get to him but he loves it at the same time.

Likes to do a lot of things for you and spend time around you.

Existing around each other means a lot to him.

Definitely a person that you can have comfortable silence with.

Doesn’t mind having philosophical discussions with you.

Has thoughts like “Why would God send someone like them for me to love if it were wrong?”.

Loves you but prays on the whole thing every night.

Keeps it as quiet as possible for obvious reasons.

Whimpers and cries out so much that you have to cover his mouth.

He’s definitely a sub but if you get him going enough, then he’ll take what he wants.

Hadn’t gone past kissing anyone until you.

This level of intimacy means a great deal to him and that comes across very well when in the moment.

He likes holding your hand during it all.

Wouldn’t tell you but he likes when you make him get on his knees.

Cried the first time you went down on him.

He loves seeing the indents that your nails make on him.

He essentially worships you when he’s given the opportunity.

He gets fucked out quickly.

[kneamet]

Can you maybe write some more for patrick mckenna and roman sionis ? Like anything you want:)

I really can't find much fics that stay true to cannon patrick and there is not much for roman either

crown of thorns

Trigger Warning: angst, obsession, drabble, fanaticism, quoting the bible

Word Count: 644

Character: patrick mckenna/reader

crown of thorns

It had been raining continuously on the tiles and plank roofs for several hours — the Vatican was rarely shrouded in smoke, fog, and even more so a slushy downpour. The always clear sun hid behind the menacing clouds that descended over the houses. Patrick, every time flinching at a lightning strike or the sound of a thunderstorm, as if driving nails, looked out the window, hesitantly averted his gaze. His white-knuckled fingers were clutching his mother's cross, his head was bent down; he was talking to God, revealing his whole essence and intentions.

His secrets are sealed in an envelope that will open only at ascension. To touch the miracle, people will run to him, they will mock him, and he will watch the crying women and fall. Very soon the chosen one will appear to amuse the audience; many tears will be shed on Via Dolorosa and Patrick will step on them without shedding his own. His naked body, charred hands will carry the miraculous cross.

An impatient doorbell rang, repeated several quick times and interrupted the calm silence of a modest one-room apartment. Patrick was alarmed, alerted, his hands tensed. He was leaving the table, touching the towel, and now a couple of minutes later she was sitting in front of him — a cute, drenched angel, lost in her own desires, not knowing who to believe in and who to believe in.

He did not drive out the one who came to him. She was sitting in front of him on the bed, in wet clothes and bare legs, looking around — noticed three apples on the kitchen table, pomegranate, bread. Patrick was leaning towards her, kneeling, whispering something softly. Your sneakers were left near the front door, your socks were wet. With a towel wet from the water that Patrick used to wipe your feet,  carefully washed each finger. He was silent, but his stomach was still burdened with an unpleasant feeling - would it really end so quickly? His death, which ended with ulcers on his body, holes in his palms, will come on Friday. His soul will ascend to his Father, Patrick is worried about this, and he will take his darling from the very hell; she will wait for him in the cold and eternity.

At her blows, he turned his left cheek, listening again and again to the scientific ideas spread by Langdon. The sinful heart of Patrick knew about the evil intentions spread by the professor, the defiler of the church. His angel listened to him, and he, like the devil, brought doubts into her soul, corrupted her. She was reserved, beautiful — dove’s eyes her, hair is like a flock of goats, going down from Mount Gilead, lips are like a strand of scarlet, and her mouth is lovely.

He traded an olive branch for a crown of thorns. The light of the last bulb went out in the languor of self-immolation, Patrick learned to live in fear all his childhood; he ate ashes like bread and dissolved drinking with tears. He had a zealous love for his angel with the appearance of a malicious succubus, and love covers a multitude of sin. Memories of the oak grove, clothes created by his mother, flashed through his thoughts; a twelve-year-old boy appeared in Patrick's dreams, training adults.

He looked into her eyes — doubts swarmed in her like bacteria. In the legs there is no truth and very soon she would betray him; the devil would strike her like David Goliath. Patrick, like the Lamb of God, will endure all trials.

Patrick's dreams were to become the Messiah, but the spirit of the morning star was reflected in him. He broke the grail, throne of thorns and a cradle of bones have been waiting for Patrick for a long time.

Tomorrow the beloved traitor will reward him with a kiss.

the drabble is completely based on the moment in which jesus washed the feet of his disciples (here patrick appears as сhrist, and the reader is judas), and it was very interesting for me to write it. @moonchild-cupcake i hope you liked it and patrick's character was like in the canon! but if not, then i can write something else for you.

i think that the rest of the works on patrick will be about the same; to be honest, bible stories fit very well on him and i don't understand when people don't use it. like, damn, you watched a movie about a fanatic, why don't you take religious stories?

:_) in general, yes, something like that. the next job, most likely, will be a work on mark renton and no longer in the form of a drabble.

[chrism02]

[konigsblog]

all priest!simon thinks is that a dumb thing like you needs to be bent over his kitchen table after found at a strip club, hoping to convert you to christianity and make this gross, little whore modest and obedient.

don't ask why a priest was at the strip club, that's not important. what's important is the way you locked eyes with him, dancing around in a pole in skimpy clothing, or therefore lack of, as the only thing protecting a sliver of your decency that you had left was a pair of panties and bra.

he'd force your face into a bible, possibly one about submission but you're too fucked-out to even read one line. simon's cock is utterly driving you crazy, and simon can't tell if you're that much of a whore, or if it's the aphrodisiac he slipped into your drink that's causing you to become so, so wet and slick for him. he can't help but rock his hips into you, with his huge cock stuffing you full and his hot, sticky cum oozing out from the sides of your cunny.

the empty glasses of wine remain on the coffee table over to your left, but you're too drunk and horny to think about anything other than the way his dick moves into your greedy hole, filling you up with his white release. he fucks deep into you, still wearing his black suit, with drops of cum stained onto his trousers.

“dirty thing--god, wish ya’ were more obedient, so i could manipulate your dumb head into doin’ whatever i want. lust is a sin, y’know? was usin’ this as a punishment, but even you’re enjoyin’ get used like a fleshlight, hm?”

you pant and wriggle, your skimpy dress rolled up past your waist, the sides ripped from his roughness. your panties are lace, pushed to the side to allow him to slide inside again and again -- however many times he likes.

he'll blame it on you for getting him to commit a sin; lust. that you were seducing him, that now you need to come over every saturday to pray with him, and maybe something more after a few glasses shared with him...

[achillieus]

modern dating is embarrassing i want to meet someone the old fashioned way (he’s the local hot priest who will question god because of me)

[screeching-bunny]

I'm intrigued by the idea of yandere priest harem.

Just a bunch of sexually repressed men that now have a tangible person to 'worship'.

Yandere! Priest Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Tags: @endism

What the fuck. You can’t believe it but you accidentally started a cult. You weren't sure how but you managed to do it. Everything about it was planned perfectly for you. From the moment you were kidnapped to the moment where you gave in, there was always some sort of routine that the priest followed that seemed almost robotic. Every word or phrase spoken to you seemed somewhat rehearsed as if they were doing everything in their power to make you pleased and happy. Everything that you requested or asked for was quickly met. Did you just say that you were hungry? Don’t worry, wait a couple more minutes and a feast will be made just for you. Did something catch your eye while you were shopping? In a couple minutes it is purchased and given to you. Never in your life had you seen a group more downbad people then these priests. They are incredibly whipped for you and treat you as if you were some kind of God.

Although you were kidnapped you soon learned to just accept the role as their false God. Why? Well to simply put you were just plain lazy and if being kidnapped allowed you to live a luxurious life without needing to work then so be it. Screw having a job and screw having to pay for bills. You will accept this position with grace and take advantage of it however you would like. The only thing that bothered you was why the hell were people joining this stupid cult!?!? By now you expected the stupid priests to run out of money by now due to your spending habits but why on Earth are people still continuing to donate to them!?!? There just always seems to be a never ending supply of money!!!

“Did you see them? The God of this religion is such a cutie. Do you think I have a shot at becoming a priest? Hell, I wouldn’t even mind being a sacrifice to them.” (Go away).

“I just donated my entire retirement fund to them. It’s so worth it. Did you see how cute their sneezes are? I could literally just die!!!” (Then die).

“I shook their hand a few days ago with my right hand. I haven’t washed it since.” (Gross).

Dammit that's why. You're so called “followers” were nothing but a group of some weirdo simps. The only thing that you ever did around this place was give speeches to your cult that came right out of your ass and they would eat it up everytime too. It is so bad that you could literally say that the Earth was flat and they would go to war to defend that you were right. You’ve never seen a group of more stupider people. As of right now you were currently giving out one of those bullshit speeches to your followers.

“... which is why cats are superior over dogs. If you have a cat tell them I said pspspspsp.”

One of the priests raises their hand, “Can you repeat that whole thing again? That was super cute and I forgot to press record.”

Another priest responds with, “Don’t worry I caught it all and I’ll send it to you later. In exchange, can I have that limited edition picture of them sleeping with a teddy bear.”

Another voice shouts, “Wait! I have some never seen before photos of them. Are you willing to trade it for the limited edition picture?”

“...”

Later that night you soon discover that there is a “trading card game” going around the cult using your pictures. You weren’t even sure how they even managed to take these photos but they somehow have them and how were these mass produced without you even noticing!?!? Why are they out of stock and why are they so popular!?!? Everyday is a never ending migraine for you. Just when you thought the priests couldn’t disappoint you even further, they always manage to prove you wrong. If they weren’t the ones feeding you, you would have been long gone by now.

Waking up always felt like a struggle most of the time. Like it literally was a struggle because there was always someone in your bed with you. They would constantly cuddle up to you as close as possible and make it difficult to leave the bed with their weight holding you down. By the time you wake up breakfast is already made and there is someone constantly fighting to decide who gets to feed you. After breakfast, you stroll around the gigantic garden that was funded with the money of taxpayers. Afternoons are spent giving out wack speeches and talking to your loyal followers. Dinners are the same as breakfast and there is competition on who gets to bathe with you. Quite often these end up turning physical fights between everyone. During the night you're out like a light and it’s a repeat of everything the next day.

Every passing day makes you so concerned for the mental health of others. There is just no way that any of these people are mentally sane. They have to be on drugs or something. You refused to believe that these were rational adults that are contributing members of society. No matter how much you try to change your personality, they always find a way to coo at you. On the days that you act like a brat you are met with the responses of, “Oh my god look at them pout that's so adorable!! Now step on me–”. On the days you act lazy it’s met with, “You don’t have to move I’ll do it all for you! Just let me lick your–”. Are you acting happy today? Well that's met with, “Your smile is so radiant! You know what would make your day better if you let me suck–”. In the end though it really doesn’t matter because their main goal in life is to forever worship your being whether you like it or not.

[heartfullofleeches]

Priest Darling: Hello, everyone! Since meeting in person can be difficult for some of us I have decided to switch to a digital format to share the words of our lord. Any questions before it gets too crowded?

Yan Chat: Is it true you wear nothing beneath your robes?- Asking for a friend... Also are you a demon?

Yan Chat: How dare you make me resort to these methods to contact you.I only wish to speak with you. Let me in, damn you. Darling-I miss you. Let. Me. In!-

Yan Chat: Whimper and moaning audio when?

Priest Darling: :)

Priest Darling, slowly reaching for the computer's off button: Thank you all for joining my first and only stream. Have a safe night, friends

[yandere-sins]

Do you know which concept I‘m going feral over again at the moment?

Yandere!Priests

[Warning: Yandere + Violent & Lewd content]

It‘s really just about the absolute depravity of these priests.

A priest who‘s knuckles turn white as they grip the altar so hard to not just jump his darling on the spot while they are in the middle of a sermon. But their darling is sitting in the front row and they can smell their perfume and it‘s driving them absolutely insane and their cock so hard that they can‘t concentrate on their speech to the point they have to cut the service short. Everyone is so concerned about them but when their darling steps up to ask if they are okay or need something, they almost orgasm in front of everyone. (They‘ll make sure that their darling is the only person to take care of them, that‘s for sure. And while the priest is at it, they can invade their darling‘s home and life to the point of no return.)

Or confessional boothes where their darling is spilling all their worries and heartache, which is not only ideal for the priest to know to manipulate them later, but also because they can't help jerking off pitifully to their darling's voice. Imagining them on their knees sucking them off like the little devil his darling must be to turn the priest away from god. Yet the priest will be panting and gasping for air by the time they absolve their darling from the 'sins' they comitted, the priest hoping they'll be back soon with more.

A cult priestess who notices one of the followers turning away from the cult and it happens to very their darling. So they start sacrificing all their darling‘s friend and family, making them the outcast. Making sure they feel so threatened and scared that the moment the priest opens their arm for them, they run and confess all their sins. They are an outcast that the priest can take back under their wing, reform back to their faith and at the same time manipulate and gaslight them to the point that they won‘t want to leave the priests side anymore, which gives room for them to demand the ultimate sacrifice of the darling—their whole being.

A very beloved priest and their caretaker!darling. Priest is the chosen of god but they‘ll refuse to do anything they are supposed to if their darling isn‘t in reach for them at all times. Darling who was forced into this role but is now pressured into doing everything for the priest so the latter may provide the village with divine guidance. Darling that wants to escape but is dragged back and beaten into compliance. And a priest who basks in the glory of getting away with all the lewd and terrible things he does to them with no one to help the darling.

But it goes to other religious figures as well!

Angels that begin to fall from grace without realizing it because they start to simp for their darling and they really shouldn‘t. But the darling looks so cute and the angel loves it when you laugh. They're really trying not to favor them with divine intervention whenever their darling is having a bad day, but seeing their frown turn into a smile when they see a rainbow or pet a stray cat that thee angel led to them, they just can't help themselves from making their darling's life a little easier. That is, until the darling starts to truly commit sins (like fall in love with someone that is not the angel), and they have to do worse things (like watch over them as the darling undresses or masturbates) and they don't even realize just how much they are losing their angelic-ness, because the angel suddenly longs to be more than just a silent observer.

Nuns/Monks that are taking care of a lost sheep on their priests demands and start to forget about all their vows and duties, wanting to only be with them and stalking them around the grounds. Sneaking into their rooms to frolick in their darling's sheets and lick their spoon after dinner, their nethers tingling with lust as more and more depraved thoughts come into mind. Them sitting next to their darling at the sermon, their knees touching and the yan unable to keep themselves from panting and salivating over their darling, developing a desire to deprave them in the same way as the darling has the yan.

Anyway, I'm super normal about it but,

[itsrheasgirl]

FORBIDDEN LOVE - PART 5

The Forbidden Love series follows a relationship between Rhea x Reader.

•

The Reader has a strong friendship with Liv Morgan.

•

Liv is in love with The Reader but hasn’t told them.

•

fem!reader - rhea x reader.

•

The door opened slowly as the convocation on the other side continued, the flutter of panic that resinated in your chest softened slightly as your gaze fell on Bianca Belair. A small sigh of relief parted your lips as your demeanor began to relax, a quick flash of a smile to Bianca caused her to return the soft grin. You couldn’t completely relax, whoever Bianca was talking to was about to walk through that door.. or so you thought. You watched as the door remained empty until it closed with a soft click, Bianca’s gaze flitting back and forth between you and Rhea before her lips pursed in question.

“You two okay?”

You weren’t even able to answer before Rhea spoke up.

“Yep.”

She snipped, coughing to clear her throat. Rhea’s gaze shifting to you swiftly as she stepped past Bianca, her dark lips curving into a cheeky grin as she shot you a wink before heading in the direction of the door. She really was testing you with all her little flirtations, was she simply playing with you or did last nights kiss mean something? Your lips accept the coy simper that claimed them, grateful for the fact Rhea had spoken up for you both. The less people that saw the two of you together the better, neither of you wanted your alone time getting back to Liv again.

“Oh.. o-kay.” Bianca quipped.

You allow a small laugh at the slight confusion on Bianca’s face, unable to stop the grin that plastered itself across your features as you try your best not to stare at Rhea’s ass as she heads towards the door, instead you turn round abruptly and plop back down in the chair you’d been waiting in only moments before. It was nearly match time and that’s where your focus needed to be.

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

She’s got this, she’s got this. Your subconscious repeated over and over as your heart rose in your throat, your stomach churning into knots as the tips of your fingers turned white from the monstrous grip you had on Priest’s forearm. Rhea had worked so hard over the passing months to prove herself, to show she deserved the title of women’s smackdown champion and to defeat Charlotte Flair at WrestleMania 39. Your palms beginning to sweat as Rhea’s final pin gave her victory.

You’re on your feet faster than most, the green room erupting with sound— Rhea’s name being chanted over and over by the crowd outside as the fellow members of the Judgement Day stood to cheer along side you.

“She did it! She won!”

Your arms flung around Priest’s waist as he stood beside you, the fear of her failure washing away as it sunk in. Rhea had gone and won the women’s smackdown championship title. She’d actually done it. Priest let out a throaty chuckle as he embraced you in a tight hug, a soft groan echoing from your chest as he squeezed you tighter.

“Okay…. Priest… can’t breathe.”

He released you instantly with another chuckle, his palm rubbing the top of your head and causing the soft curls that fell about your features to tangle.

“Yooo, not cool.”

You grumbled, folding your forearms across you’re chest and pouting your lips.

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

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, you hadn’t taken your eyes off the screen, watching as the woman you cared for so deeply raised the championship belt above her head. The sound of the crowd could be heard through the entire arena, you couldn’t even begin to imagine the high Rhea found herself on but the joy in her ocean eyes was all you’d needed to feel it.

“Y/N, she’s coming.”

Priest shouted, your gaze finally leaving the tv to meet his. You wanted to be the first person she saw, for her to see the excitement on your face and for her to know just how proud of her you were, but you couldn’t do what you truly wanted. To give Rhea what she’d started the night before, a kiss filled with so much desire that you would have felt like the only people in the room.

You made your way over to Priest’s side, standing slightly behind him as you scooped your arm around his, patiently waiting for Rhea’s arrival. You were nervous, you couldn’t begin to think why. The match had ended just as you’d all wanted, Rhea Ripley was the new women’s smackdown champion. You could still hear the loud cheers of the crowd, no sign of it stopping. Had she even left the ring? Inhaling a small breath, you peek around Priest’s god like frame in attempts to see if you could peer through the black curtains that hung between the back stage and the arena. It was in that moment the curtains swung back to reveal a very ecstatic Rhea, her palm clutching tightly to her title belt.

You are the first person her gaze falls on as you step out from behind Priest’s gigantic frame, your eyes glistening with pride as she simply smiles at you. The sounds of her fellow wrestlers calling her name pulled her attention from you and your features falter, of course they were priority. As everyone began to crowd around Rhea you shuffle your way out through the mass of taller and muscular humans. Letting them surround their new champion, you swallow back your disappointment. You still hadn’t heard from Liv, maybe you could just return to the hotel and finally get that sleep you’d missed out on last night.

Hooking your thumbs into the front pockets of your jeans, you exhale a shallow breath. Weaving through the mass of people that continued to swarm in Rhea’s direction. She’d taken the women’s smackdown championship from fourteen time winner Charlotte Flair, how could people not want to congratulate her. You’d finally cleared the crowd, the exit in sight when you’re forced to come to a halt.

“Y/N!”

You stop in your tracks when you hear your name, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you turn to come face to face with Rhea. She was slightly out of breath, sweat clung to her skin, her black lipstick was smeared and yet she still looked breathtaking to you.

“Hey superstar.”

The smile that already claimed Rhea’s lips turned into a wider grin, a soft bubble of laughter breaking from her throat as she took in your words.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

She questioned, the authoritative tone in her voice causing you to nibble at the corner of your lip as you staggered to inhale a breath.

“Um— nowhere?”

She leaned in slightly, the warmth of her breath against the shell of your earlobe causing your palms to tremor. Her words were soft and almost whispered, heated against your ear as her free palm stretched out to rest upon your hip.

“My rental is in the parking lot.”

She didn’t pull back, her thumb grazing against the exposed flesh of your hipbone as you felt your temperature rise. Your heartbeat increasing and your palms beginning to sweat.

“Keys are in my bag.”

Her words were as soft as a kittens purr, her breath tickling against your ear and the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

“Wait for me?”

She slipped past you without another word, giving you no chance to respond. Your exposed midriff was pimpled with goosebumps, the spot where her fingertips had danced tingling like fire and ice. Your eyes scan round the room to make sure no one had witnessed what just happened, glancing back to catch sight of Rhea as she disappeared to greet the line of awaiting reporters and interviews. She was the champ after all and duty called.