·༻𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖎༺· @ushiwakaout - Tumblr Blog

Priest! Leon Scott Kennedy.

+ NSFW [+18] MDNI

+ inspired fleabag au

+ Leon smokes cig for the sake of the fic

+ reader is described to have hair long enough to use an elastic

+ plot with porn (aka slow burn)

+ longest fic i've written since my comeback. be proud.

+ mentions of suicide

proof read to the best of my abilities (omg)…

[Request More! Ask anything! Anonymous is on.]

“I wanna fuck a priest.” You bluntly told your therapist. Her head rose from her notebook, pen still moving as she finished up the last sentence. “Catholic?” She asked, you nodded, she hummed, "A good one?" You nodded quicker, she hummed, “With the whole—” She moved her hand above her chest, finger wiggling, suggesting his attire. “Yes, with the whole vestments, the cassock, the roman collar, yeah— yup.” You confirmed, swallowing hard.

Softly she spoke, “I understand…” Nodding in understanding. The therapist took a moment, removing her glasses, looking back at her notes.

In the chair, you restlessly readjusted yourself as she processed your predicament. “Do you wanna fuck the priest or do you want to fuck god?”

Almost in the same beat, "You can fuck god?" You asked, taken by surprise.

Believing in god wasn’t ever your thing. How could people believe in something they’ve never seen. Everyone always told you it was strong feelings.

Some strong bullshit, you thought.

Hearing her take a breath, lips parting to say something, “No— no, I don’t want to fuck god." You blurted, "I don’t even believe in god. I- I- I just want to fuck him.”

You left your appointment with less clarity than before.

Leaning up against the wall of a local restaurant, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Your family was waiting inside, along with the priest that would marry your father and the best friend of your dead mother.

“My name is Leon, nice to meet you.” His hand squeezed yours. A little too hard and a little too fast. "[Name]..." Your mouth became instantly dry. "Like wise." The priest hands cupped yours for a moment too long. Staring longingly at each other. Their souls started to wonder if they've met in another life.

Her hand felt too right in his.

Soon to be step-mother, cleared her throat from the reserved table. She was still sat, grinning in a forced manner, "My, my, [Name] don't you look well... Tell me, how have you been?" Winding it around like a counting down timer, she stirred her glass of wine.

Leon felt her hand drift away, no longer feeling her warmth. He would later excuse himself to the restroom, taking a wet paper towel against his hot skin. He could smell the cigaret that faintly lingered on your skin.

The priest came back to a full table. Their eldest daughter arriving with her husband. The only chair left, was beside her. He swallowed hard, pulling the chair out.

You scooted out, further away from him.

Fuck, he thought to himself. He wanted you closer.

Trying his best not to get in your personal bubble, he sat and adjusted himself. Don't be fucking awkward, he cursed himself.

"What was that?" He hears the feet of your chair drag back to its original spot.

His eyes met yours.

Clearly confused, brows furrowed, trying to figure out what he thought he said in his head seconds ago. "N—Nothing, fuck— sorry that was supposed to be in my head." He whispered back, leaning closer to your shoulder.

Feeling his hot breath against your skin made goosebumps crawl at the back of your neck. Stifling a laugh that almost escaped, "Are priest allowed to cuss this much? Or are you just a cool priest?" You watched his lips part, unable to decide between a response or smiling like an idiot.

"What about you, father?" The mother in law cut in, loudly. She didn't enjoy the action of them interacting.

From the perspective of the table, the priest and yourself looked like two school students who had been caught gossiping in class. They slowly leaned back into their respective seats. It felt like two connected magnets pulling apart, trying hard to come back closer.

Taking a sip of wine, you cleared your throat, setting it down on the table.

Mother, I hope your watching this from above... or below... Your best friend is a cunt.

Your thoughts are distracted you feel something strike your ankle under neath the table. Shifting your gaze, you’re faced with your sister, "Fix your face." She mouthed.

Granting her a kick back, the table and cutlery bounced at the time your sister jolted, "Cunt." You mouthed back. Her jaw fell into a silent gasp, holding back a pained yelp and the urge to tackle her baby sister.

“Is everything alright, girls?” Their father asked from the head of the table.

Making herself look more on edge then intended, your eldest sister replies quickly, "Yup! All good dad, isn't that right, [Name]?" Leaning into her chair, she sighed quietly to herself before gulping back the remainder of her wine.

Nodding in agreement, a soft genuine smile on your lips as you reply, "Yeah, all good..." The priest took notice of the way you lost focus for a moment, eyes rested on your hands, leaning back as if you had been the only person in the room— just for a moment.

For a while, dinner was normal.

Your soon to be step-mother laid her hand on the forearm of the priest, remembering how entranced you became as he rolled them up before eating. He wore navy grey slacks and a solid matte black button down that slightly exposed his collarbone.

It was noticeable how fit he was underneath it all.

"I didn't know you could go without—" she pointed up at her neck, waving it across her neck, "your doggie collar."

"You mean the roman collar with the cassock..."

The whole table went quiet at the interruption of your voice. All heads turned to look at you, head tilted back as you drank the remanence of your wine. The priest noticed that your eyes went a little wide. Eyes drifted around the table, "What? I've read the bible." You state.

"You've read the bible?" The eldest sisters husband asked in disbelief. You shrugged, "I’m agnostic, not illiterate. Unlike you, I can read and comprehend."

The needy waitress came as to butt in and save the day from his response, "Would anyone like another drink?" Raising a finger to catch her attention, "I'll take a tequila—"

"I'll take one as well." The priest holds up two fingers when you turn to look at him, a faint smile on his lips before focusing back to the table.

Your step mother to be, began another one of her stories. This was a three course dinner, if you didn't escape outside now— you'd probably end up slitting your throat. "I'll be back, I need some fresh air."

That's how you ended up here... Forehead pressed against the wall, exhaling cigaret smoke towards the brick. The breeze felt good against the sweaty patches on your skin.

Inside the restaurant, you had to avert your eyes from the priest more than you'd like to admit. After a few drinks he began to sit more comfortably, he didn't sit all the way back, he leaned with his biceps crossed. If his arms weren't so big his pecs would be protruding. It made your mouth water. It kept you sipping on the bottomless wine.

Hence the slight sway as you stood.

Hence why you've become so hot, specifically between your legs.

The silence didn't last.

You heard the side door of the restaurant open.

A second of a glance and you could feel that warmth come back quicker than before.

His hands are tucked into his pockets while walking down the steps. The priest looked good and he knew it too.

Pushing yourself off the brick wall, he fixed his gaze on you. "Fellow smoker." A smile appears against your will. You could feel air catch in your chest as he ask, "Do you have a spare one?"

You nod, "Sure." Grabbing your purse to retrieve the pack of cigarets along with your lighter. He's holding it between his fingers. You burn it for him before he took a short drag, "So do your family get together much or—"

Breezing past him, his head turns to follow, beginning to make your way back into the restaurant. A soft scoff escaped his lips, "Fuck you, then..." He quietly said, taking a longer drag of the cigaret.

Freezing at the top of the stairs, turning to look at him, an incredulous smile across your lips.

Leon smiles back.

The two of you bask in that magnetic pull again.

· · ─ ♱ ─ · ·

"Peace be with you."

"Thank you, as to you."

"Peace be with you."

"And also with you."

Sitting at the center of the pew, you shook the hands of kind strangers. This had been the first time, in years, that you willingly stepped into a church.

You hesitated when you stepped in, thinking that maybe you would burst into flames in the presence of god.

"Let us pray".

There he stood, a pastel colored vestment draped over the chest and arms you ogled throughout dinner. You began to mouth prayer, already knowing it by heart.

Raised religiously by your father, baptized and everything in between— Catholicism became something you thought you could outrun one day.

But here you stood.

For a moment you took a moment to look around, noticing that every painting that was hung up against the churches wall— someone was showing more... or touching exposed skin. Has the imagery always been so provocative? You swallowed hard.

"Amen." You muttered, finishing prayer.

You could tell how deep his devotion went with the way he shared the word of god.

You felt a tang of jealousy.

He believed so fervently.

The priest didn't notice you, and you had been glad that he hadn't. It gave you a moment to really focus on his features. Part of his hair laid right above his blue eyes, standing there with his arm raised up to the sky, his sleeves exposing veined forearms.

The breath you wanted to exhale got caught in your chest, mouth drying in the process.

Feeling like a child being caught doing something wrong, you shamed away the lust.

Fuck, cursing yourself in your head, I like the fucking priest.

Without a second thought, you rose your chin.

The priest's words caught in his throat before he could even register who stared back at him. He smiled at you incredulously, shaking his head before going back to his notes, "W—where was I..." Continuing, the priest informed the church of it's following events, stealing glances at you with a smile.

Standing near the exit, you watched him bid farewell to the attendants of the church. He would take a step closer after each goodbye. You felt like a school girl twirling her hair, waiting for her crush to say hello.

Waiting for everyone to say their goodbyes, you sit alone at the bar of the restaurant. Ordering a cocktail, propping your elbows against the counter, pressing your knuckles against your cheek. With a heavy exhale, you pull the elastic from your hair, running your fingers through your scalp. Feeling a heavy hand on your bare skin, you take a moment before glancing over your shoulder.

To your surprise, there stands the priest, holding out a folded napkin. Wide-eyed, you hesitate to take it, "I'm here if you need anyone to talk to... I—" The priest took a moment to point at the napkin, watching you. "I'm always there if you need me." Pinching the paper furthers from his own fingers, you take it.

"You came." His tone soft, wondering to himself what was behind this intention.

An impure grin slips onto your lips, "I came."

Standing at the end of the isle of the church, you begin to take notice the large size different between the two. Leon would be able to engulf your body in his only by wrapping a singular arm around you.

Suddenly, you're thinking about your back pressed against a mattress while the priest held you close. You tuck your head down with a nervous laugh, feeling that shame again, a blush burning throughout your skin.

You grew the courage to look back up at him only to noticed that he had never stopped looking at you. Swallowing hard, you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

"Do you like tea?" He ask, finally breaking the silence.

Leon has left you alone in a separate room while he prepared your drinks. Examining the space, you take notice of all the art and decorations when your eyes fell on a bible that sat on the edge of your table. Picking it up, you dragged the tips of your fingers against the spine. Still closed, you turned it to face the pages, taking your thumb to quickly skim through the bible.

Splitting the book in half, you pressed the pages against your nose, inhaling deeply.

Before you could even register what you had been doing, Leon abruptly walked through the door with a tray in hand. “Tea.” He announced joyfully, “I don’t wanna boast but I make a cracking cup of tea.” He sits across the table from you, taking a sip from the porcelain saucer. “Don’t mind the random stuff in the corner, it’s all for a fundraiser party… So much stuff—” Slowly, his speech was becoming more erratic. “Absolutely no staff— You could volunteer if you’d like.”

As you’re about to agree, in the same beat Leon shakes his head, “I’m only joking.” He swallows hard, “You probably got a life—” The priest isn’t as relaxed as he was before. This was a side of him that you didn’t get to see at the restaurant.

Was he nervous?

“So tell me about it.”

Swallowing the warm tea, you lick your lips clean.

The priest can’t help but watch the sweep of her tongue before he focuses back on you.

Hesitantly you answer, “My life’s pretty normal…”

“Normal?” He immediately ask. “Pretty normal.” You continue your lie. “What makes it normal?”

Unintended, you speak before you think of the answer you give him, “Well first of all I don’t pray to someone that might not even exist.”

Without missing a beat, a framed painting falls with a loud, heart-stopping bang. Slowly turning your head, you look down to see the image of god staring right back at you.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, you think to yourself. Turning to face Leon in the same pace, he’s smiling, smugly. “I love it when he does that.”

Groaning at your therapist, you lean forward on the love seat, “Just tell me, how NOT to fuck a priest before I get arrested.” Watching as she took a moment to pause, you lean back into the cushion, “Well, I don’t think fucking a priest will make you feel as powerful as you think it will.” She stated, letting her words linger. A sigh escaped your lips, “So what the hell am I supposed to do?”

She sits up, “You already know what you’re going to do.” Looking at her in disbelief, you respond, “I actually don’t know!”

“You do.” She repeats

“I don’t.” You rebuke.

“You do.” She says more confidently.

“I do not—”

You stood inside a ticket booth at the fundraiser he mentioned not long ago. You smiled at the stranger before you, handing off the tickets before taking the next person in line, stealing glances at the priest.

He was surrounded by women of all ages that attended the church. It didn’t strike a surprise.

Ignoring the pit in your stomach you turned away from the booth, completing whatever side task you started.

Annoyance was building up in the priest.

Every step he took forward, someone just had to have his attention. Words went in one ear and out the other as his focus was solely on getting to you.

He entertained them with a laugh, nodding in fake interest. The priest didn’t notice your stolen glances. Any time he looked your way, someone was taking your attention, wishing he could somehow switch spots.

The feelings that began to bubble in belly at the sight of you, concerned him. He hadn’t felt affected by anyone in this way before. His palms would become sweaty. His heart would race. The feeling would grow bolder when you hadn’t been near.

Itching for your presence.

He decided that this is what addicts felt like while trying to get clean.

Constantly thinking about her.

Wanting her near.

Craving her.

Willing to do anything and everything just to get a taste of—

He cleared his throat. Leon stood in front of the ticket booth, a grin on his lips as you looked pleased to see him. “Father, what can I do for you?”

Melting, he would have kneeled in front of her, if it weren’t for the many eyes around. “I just came to thank you for showing up. You didn’t have too—”

“I wanted too.” You interrupted.

“Are you having fun?” He asked.

You only nod in response.

A moment of silence passes, Leon tucks his hands into his pockets.

There’s that invisible magnetic pull again.

Neither of them are bold enough to say something about it.

It lingered comfortably.

“Oh, before I forget— Stay right here.”

Looking at him confused, you’re about to ask him what he’s talking about when you hear him say something under his breath, “Adorable.” Stealing another look at you, he smiles to himself, walking forward into the church. You didn't quite catching what he said, you stand there awkwardly, watching him saunter away.

Leon is frantically looking for the bible he placed down at his table, being away longer than intended. Suddenly he pauses, looking at the roof with his finger pointed toward the sky— well, at god. "Not funny. Not funny at all— I promise, it's innocent." Chest tightening, "It's innocent." He repeated, not even convincing himself.

The priest couldn't help it when his eyes fell upon her breast, her hand traveling to set the napkin on her lap, examining his handwriting. Her chest rose and fell in a steady motion, tucking hair behind her ear, exposing earrings that dangled down her neck.

Without a second thought, he reached out, his knuckles grazing your jaw. Flinching inelegantly, you tuck your jaw, turning to face the priest. Unconcerned, he stands before you with no shame, your earring in the palm of his hands.

Earrings that bared a cross between the jewels.

"Beautiful." The whisper is loud enough for only you to hear, powerful enough to send a sudden heat between your legs. He grins, knowingly being shameful to his core. God would understand, he thought, he's an understanding sort.

He looked at your lips, lightly parted, as if you had something to say. All he could think of was taking his thumb to sweep off the gloss on her lips before exploring the inside of her mouth with his tongue. Clearing his throat, he pressed his lips into a tight smile, the though of her lips parting from an erotic gasp slipped through his train of thought.

"FUCK."

Being close enough to the church to hear it, you turn your head fast enough to give you whiplash.

In a moments time, the priest came out looking flushed. A leather book tucked underneath in his arm as he jogged over.

“Found it.”

He was breathless by the time he arrived to you. “Are you alright father?” The question hit him in his groin, hesitant to smile. His imperturbability was impressive.

Holding out the bible to you, “Never felt better.” He exhaled, “I wanted you to have this. I marked down some passages that uh—” Laughing to himself, he drags his hands over his mouth, undecided. “Made me think of you— The passages. They made me think of you.”

The priest watches you grab the corner, furthest away from his touch. The same way you did the napkin. "Come back to me when you've taken a chance to look over it." He hasn't let go of his end.

You remembered the first time you read the bible and why.

It was only 5 years ago, the morning after your mother had killed herself...

Wondering around her room one last time, nobody but you had the guts to enter where she had decided to hang herself.

Sitting front and center of her bed, you sprung up when you felt something poke your rear end. Lifting the duvet, a bible lays split in half with its pages down.

Gathering thoughts, you reach for the book, facing it towards you. Bright colored lines are scattered throughout the book as you begin skimming through along with some handwriting.

Your mothers handwriting.

Shaking your head, you turn back to the front page.

‘To my youngest daughter’, it read.

The bible slips from your finger tips as you break down crying, allowing yourself to grief alone.

"T— Thank you..."

Your chest tightened. Remembering the wails you let out as you held the book in your arms, surrounded by only memories of her.

It's the same bible you reached for when he originally asked you to volunteer as a joke. The one you split open to inhale the remanence of his touch. "The last time someone gave me an annotated bible was the day after my mom killed herself—"

"Sorry!" You blurted, cutting yourself off. "That wasn't supposed to— "

"Don't apologize." His words are soft, "I'm sorry for your loss. It must have been difficult."

For the first time in forever, the person in front of you isn't looking at you like a daughter who lost her mother. The priest is look at you. The deepest parts of you.

Squeezing the pages until your knuckles turned white, you swallow hard, forcing a smile. "It's alright—" Your words are cut off by an unexpectedly tugs of the bible, he's holding your wrist is his hand, gently stroking his thumb over your pulse. "You don't have to pretend." The priest takes the bible out of your hands, placing it down on a nearby table. "Not with me."

Limping into the driveway, dry tears on your cheeks, your five year old self if dragging in the bike you just flew off of.

Throwing the bike as hard as your little arms could, you watched as your mother came rushing towards you. Your knees had been scrapped up, blood running down your legs. Not only that but your jaw and cheek cut up as well. Holding in tears, you unclip your helmet, tossing it on the cement. "Oh my baby— Come here..." Your arms are already out, she's pulling you into a tight hug, no longer feeling the ground below. She's caressing your hair, "You don't have to pretend to be a tough girl, not with me baby."

Slipping your hand away, something between a laugh and a scoff escapes your lips, "Thank you, father— Trust me. I'm fine." Beginning to back up, the priest only watches intently.

The priest takes a step forward to reach out but you take a step so far back that your waist rams into the table behind you.

Your arms shoot back to press them against the table, supporting your weight. You let out an exhausted sigh, letting the moment pass.

"I just want my fucking mom back."

The reality of it hits you like a ton of bricks. You swallow a sob, one hand over your mouth as the other pulled the strap of your bag closer to your shoulder as you rushed past him. His body turning to the side, allowing you to part as his eyes lay on the annotated bible.

He takes it back, keeping it close.

· · ─ ♱ ─ · ·

You turned the 'open' sign of your cafe to 'closed' after a long busy day. Dishes piled up in the back, the chairs still had to be stacked and your money needed to be counted. Groaning, you pull out a chair to sit, putting your feet up on the table as you draped an arm over your eyes.

The peace didn't last long when the door creaks open, bells chiming above it gently. "We're closed" You groan, dragging one foot to the floor, preparing to face the person who intruded your space.

"You forgot this yesterday... I thought you'd like to have it."

Your heart stops for a moment as you freeze.

Leon stood at the entrance of your cafe, blocking off the door with his large frame.

Brushing your arm forward, crossing them under your chest as you look at him, noting that he's in casual clothing again. How can someone look so good? Opening and closing the palm of your hand, reaching an arm out to take it, he gently hands it to you before you kick off your other leg from the table.

He takes a seat beside you, taking a moment to admire the things around him before focusing on you.

This time, you hadn't stopped looking at him.

"How'd you find me?"

"You mentioned it at the restaurant."

Your lips parted slightly, almost if you had been surprised that he remember such a fine detail. Momentarily you paused, "Would you like a drink?"

He looks down at his watch, "I'd love a drink." As you get up from your seat, Leon can't help but watch as you move.

He’s finally in your environment.

The place smells like you as he takes a deep breath, relaxing into his chair like he once did at the restaurant. Pictures are scattered all over the walls. His eyes stop at one that has you grinning, hauled over a woman’s back, while you wear a bright cap and gown. It must be your graduation. There’s another frame with the same woman, ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ written on the balloons around her. It’s on your cash register, facing your customers. Shaking his head, he realized now why you used the name ‘Mothers Cafe’.

“Did you open this cafe with or for your mother?”

He looks up at you from his seat. You’re standing next to him with two tea cups and saucers, smiling awkwardly. “I don’t have any more clean glass, so this will have to do… I hope you’re alright with whisky.” Leon is wondering if you’re ignoring his question while you hand off his drink, settling your own beside him. You toss the black tray toward the cash register lazily before sitting down.

You’re staring down your cup as your index finger wraps around the small handle.

Leon watches you gulp down the cup full of whisky, exhaling as if it had been a refreshing cup of water before a singular cough escapes your chest. His eyes widen but it wasn’t enough to tell if you hadn’t been looking. “Pardon me—” You exhale a hot breath, “I opened it with her… she killed herself a year after our grand opening.”

“You were close.” It’s not a question, but a statement. You only nod in reply. “Are you close to your mother?”

He shakes his head, “Dead beat parents— What about your sister?” You ponder for a moment, “She’s my sister. She’s my most trusted ally and my worst enemy all in the same breath. I love her— Are we playing 20 questions now? Is it my turn?”

An amused, quiet scoff escapes his lips, nodding. “Do you have any sibling?” He shakes his head, crossing his arms now, feeling more comfortable. “None. You mentioned being agnostic, why?” Raising your brow, confused by the question, you tilt your head, “Why I’m agnostic?” You clarify and he nods again, settling his hand underneath his chin. “Because I don’t know who’s out there. Because there’s no way in hell that there isn’t someone or something listening to someone prayer, I just can’t confirm or deny their existence… It’s confusing. Is it god? Is it Buddha? Is it the Greek gods? Nordic gods? Or is it all of them.”

Momentarily pausing before your next question, you shift in your seat, “What do you think gods plan is, for you?” Leaning into the table to steady yourself, the cup of whisky hit you harder than anticipated. Leon could tell. Your cheeks were flushed, a minuscule sway to you. He only noticed because his focus was always on you, how your body moved in response, when your eyes drifted off or your mind wandered else where.

He dragged his fingertips his chin, soothing down his own lustful thoughts. “I believe god meant for me to love people in a… different way. I believe I’m supposed to love people as a father.”

You chuckled lightly, “We can arrange that.”

Leon immediately cleaned his throat, not allowing the laugh he stifled to come forward, “A father of many.” He clarified watching as you leaned over the table, his eyes quickly darting at the way your breast looked pressed up against the hard wood, then back up at you. “I’ll go up to three.” You said sarcastically, although your voice was heavily implying something else completely. Shaking his head, a chuckle escaping his lips this time, he leaned forward, “It’s not gonna happen.”

“Two then.” You corrected, “Okay two.” He immediately agrees.

A soft singular chuckle leaves your lips.

“Do you think I should become a catholic?”

He rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair, “No, no. Don’t do that… I like that you believe in a meaningless existence—” he focuses on your chuckle before continuing, “And you’re good for me. You make me question my faith.”

Hearing that makes your heart flip.

For a moment you become serious, interested to know further, “And?” You asked, “And, I’ve never felt closer to god.”

Your combined laugh fills the room.

When it settles, the two of you sit in silence.

"Do you ever have doubts?" You're babysitting the tea Leon gave you, knowing that once it was done, you'd have no reason to stay. It's quiet. Both of you are stealing glances at each other, smiles lingering. Taping the cup with your fingernail, something brewing in your chest that you can't hold back— "I don't think id be able to do it." You state, taking a sip of cold tea, "The whole celibacy thing..." Clearing your throat, you look at him, he isn't surprised by your statement. "I couldn't give up sex forever."

Leon sits back in his chair, basking in your confession. "Celibacy, is a lot less complicated than romantic relationships—"

"What if you meet someone you like?"

"We talk, share tea, help me with my fundraiser, laugh and hope they'll eventually leave me alone."

"What if you meet someone you love?"

"We're not gonna have sex." Your lips part, a stiffled laugh escaping. You're trying to find the words to respond but he calmly continues, "I know that's what you want— what you think you want from be but its not."

Theres a long, silent pause.

"I'd really like to be your friend, [Name]."

You breathe, pressing your lips into a tight smile."

"I'll like to be your friend too, [Leon]."

Your eyes flicker between the empty cup in your hands and the man sat before you, noticing that he hadn’t even touched his whisky.

“Did you really only come here to just give me the bible?”

He slowly shakes his head, “I wanted to make sure you’re alright.” Leon’s eyes don’t leave yours.

Feeling your mood sour, “I am alright.” You state, suddenly feeling more sober than before. “I don't think—” The dragging of your chair against the wood interrupt him, “With all due respect, you don’t know me—” You’re standing now, never breaking eye contact as he stand from his chair, slowly. He’s looking down at you now, "I'm trying to get to know you—"

"Well maybe I don't want that!”

Once filled with laughter, never has the silence in the cafe been so loud.

The only thing that stood between you and Leon was the table. For a moment, you’re imagining yourself pushing the table to the floor and lunging towards him, pressing your lips against his.

Leon is thinking the same thing. The air around beginning to feel hot.

Both of you are standing there, heavy breaths filling the dining area. Although angry, you couldn’t help but feel as if your exchanged stare down was erotic. “Listen—” Leon began, pushing his hands into his pockets, “I’m just trying to help you…”

He immediately regrets his words when your face contorts into something offensive. Before you’re able to speak, he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I didn’t mean— I didn’t mean it like—”

“Oh I know what you mean father, thank you so much for your guidance. You should be getting back to god, don’t you think?”

You sound like a jealous girlfriend. Leon hears it too.

Not looking back when you pick up his full cup of whisky and walk behind the register, he only stands there for a moment before hesitantly making his way out the door. Leon stops to look back at you as his hand reaches the door knob. You’re looking down at the floor and he leaves without saying goodbye.

The bible sit in the same spot he left it. Taunting you and your recent behaviors.

“Oh fuck off.”

· · ─ ♱ ─ · ·

It was past midnight.

There was no way he'd be awake at this hours.

You're standing in the middle of the churches isle again, looking above. What the fuck are you doing here, you ask yourself.

It's later in the day and you've come to apologize.

With many rows and levels of red candles, you caught the illuminating glow from the corner of your eyes. Before going to find him, you made the decision to light a few dead ones. You took a moment to think of your mother... than your thoughts drifted to the priest. She would have loved him, you thought. Enjoying the moment to yourself, a smile tugs on the corner of your lip. Reaching out to light another candle, music starts to faintly play behind you.

It sounds like old rock music.

Listening closely, your head begins to nod to the beat— a loud bang makes you jump out of your skin. You freeze, hand above your heart.

Whispering to yourself, "What the hell was that?" You decide to investigate. The music becomes louder as a lit room towards the back gets brighter.

Leon is holding a half empty bottle of whisky, arms crossed as he looked at a wall of books. He’s still wearing the roman collar and cassock.

To your right you see the device that’s playing his music, walking straight towards it to press the pause button.

“Shit— SHIT! JESUS!”

Jumping back like you did earlier, Leon holds out his arms, covering the sight of you. Standing there awkwardly, almost as if it was his fault that he hadn't taken notice of you, "What are you doing up?" If anything, you had been more surprised that he was. Leon looked disheveled, flustered, and taken back. His cheeks where flushed, his hair was messy— Was he drunk? "It's past midnight." Your tone is 'matter of fact'.

His arms are still out, still shocked, "I just thought you in my head— I mean— You where just in my head then—" Pointing up at his temple, "But then you're there—" He points at where you stand, "Here! You're here?"

“Are you okay, father?”

Once recovered from his fright, he stands before you, arms crossed again. He lets out a little sigh, “Fuck you calling me father as if it doesn’t turn you on just to say it." Your lips part, taken back by his drunk bluntness. Leon leans against a desk thats pushed up against the wall, he looks down at your hands, "You've brought back the bible I see."

You nod, "I came to apologize... Everything you've said and done, it means a lot to me, I just..." Putting the hand in both your hands you walk forward, only coming up half way, "I just came here to tell you that I don't want to be friends with you— I can't pretend that I just want to be friends."

"I can't be physical with you—"

"That's not—" You laugh incredulously, hearing him put down the bottle. "That's not what I came here for..." Tossing him the bible, he catches it effortlessly. "I read everything... You feel it too."

"I—" Setting the bible down, his feet drag him closer to you, "I've sacrificed a lot for this life, y'know? I've given a lot of things up..." He watches as you nod slowly, swallowing whatever words you had been holding back, "Would it really be the end of the world if we just—"

Your jaw hangs in a silent gasp when he's standing inches away from you, feeling his hot breath. Once again, you take notice of how much larger he is compared to yourself, "I can't be physical because I'll fall in love with you." The words come out too naturally, too sober, like he's practice this in the mirror a hundred times. "If I fall in love with you, the world may not end, but my life would be fucked—"

He's breathing heavier, his eyes are darting at your lips, unable to figure out where to put his hands.

You're about to have sex, you think to yourself.

The air gets caught in your chest, trying to cut in as he speaks but all you could do was listen, "I'm supposed to love one thing." Leon quickly points at the sky, you can't take your eyes off him, his vulnerability leaking through every crack he's ever concealed as a priest. "And yet— I couldn't stop thinking about breathing near you."

There's a long heavy pause.

"But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire…"

You can smell the faint whisky in his breath as his fingertip pull on the waistband of your pants, his other hand slithering behind your waist. "I need you tell me, that you don't want this— I'll walk away like it never happened. I won't be your friend anymore, I—"

"I want this." You respond breathlessly, feeling his hand grasp at your skin. Leon pulls you in, your feet no longer feeling the floor below as he crashes his lips onto yours. A wave of heat moves through your body as he moans into the kiss. Your legs wrap around him as be begins to move around the room, his hand traveling to grab hand-fulls of your ass. He takes this opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue, sitting you down on the one he previously leaned on.

His hands are cupping your cheeks, trying to pull back as your finger hooks underneath his roman collar, popping it off before undoing a few buttons. Successfully being able to pry you off his lips, he lays his forehead against yours. "Strip." He commanded, kissing the corner of your lip before pushing off against the desk. Leon grabbed his bottle of whisky and a chair, allowing himself to man spread before you. He takes a swing of the bottle, unhooking his belt, "I said strip."

Slowly but surely, you begin to do as he says. He swallows hard. Leon is admiring your naked form, "Sit on the table." The table is cold against your hot skin, you sway side to side allowing yourself to get comfortable, unable to ignore the slickness growing between your legs.

"Let me see how wet you are." Eyes widening, you're taken back with how quickly he got comfortable, "Put your legs up on the table, and let me play with that pretty pussy." He's beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt, watching as you do as you're told. Your knees are pressed up against your chest before spreading them apart, the slick between your thighs pulling apart from itself. Tucking in you thumb and pinky, you slowly press the pads of your fingertips against your clit.

"There you go, such a good girl." Leon unbuttons his black slacks, unzipping them before tucking his hand to palm his aching cock.

Unsatisfied, he's picks up his chair and pulls it closer. He can fucking smell how wet you are for him. Leon caresses your knee before laying a soft kiss, "Finger yourself for me princess?" It sounds more like a question than a command, so you nod, moving your fingertips further down. Spreading your puffy lips, you press the pads of your fingers against your entrance, feeling your pussy wanting to suck them right up for an ounce of pleasure.

Leons hands are back in his pants, palming a wet layer of cloth that laid against his shaft watching as you fingered yourself agonizingly slow, barely getting knuckles deep with your middle finger. "Use two fingers to fuck yourself, rub your clit with you other hand— I want you dripping on my desk before I fuck you."

With your head tilted back, you rolled your hips against your own hands, trying to find angles in where you could somehow go further than knuckles deep. Leon is watching as you're frantically trying to adjust yourself as you finger fuck your pussy. Your ass is slightly raised from the table, hips grinding in the air for some sort of release. Removing his palm from the heat in his pants, he pulls himself closer with the chair, wrapping his hands around your wrist, "What are you—?" He's removing your hands from your pussy, allowing himself to lap his tongue over your glistening fingers. He releases them with a singular pop, "Sit on my fucking cock." Leaning forwards, he wraps hand-fulls of your waist, sliding you towards the edge of the table, your slick getting all over your ass.

He doesn't allow you to sit with your legs wrapped around his waist, but your ankles are resting on his shoulders as he pries his cock out from his black slacks. You look like a lost deer in the headlights when you watch his length slap him on the abdomen, mouth watering at the sight. "You look so fucking pretty waiting for my cock." Leon begins to caress your leg. "Let me just—" Distracted by one hand, you didn't notice the other lined up at your entrance.

Leon was two fingers deep in your pussy, pulling them all the way out before pushing them all the way back in. He watches as your thigh tremble, "Oh you fucking loved that, didn't you?" Quickening his pace in the slightest, he curls his fingers to press up against your walls before putting his other hand on your clit.

Watching you hips roll into his soaking wet fingers made his cock twitch, "I'm gonna fuck you so good—" Pouting when his finger leave your pussy, he has his hands around your waist, pulling you again.

His hand wraps around his length, lining himself up against your entrance. Leon pushes his head in and bucks his hips back to do it again, watching your wetness stick to the head of his cock. You're a moaning mess when he continues this, every other stroke is giving you another inch of his length until he bottoms out.

Your thighs are twitching again, his cock fills you up to a point where it's beginning to become unbearable if he doesn't move, "Please just fuck me— Please god— Fuuuuck." Ankles still on his shoulders, Leon is using all of his strength to bounce you up and down on his cock as he pleases. His hands are tucked behind your knees, watching a wet sloppy ring of cum form around at the base of his cock, dripping onto his balls. Trying to speak, your words are incoherent, a babbling mess.

Something between a high pitched speak and a moan escape your lips when Leon behind to rub and pinch at her clit. "Fuck— Fuck— Fuck! Oh my god— That feels so fucking good, holy shit—" Your ass is slapping so hard against his hips that the skin is becoming red. Throwing your head back, you grasp at his forearm, nails digging deep enough to break skin, "That's is baby, cum for me—"

The sound of skin slapping gets louder and faster as he fucks you through your sudden orgasm, thighs trembling and all but the priest isn't done. "Your pussy is feels so fucking good. So fucking warm, so fucking wet for me... Lay on your back for me now."

He doesn't let you respond before he hauls the both of you into the position he wanted.

The cross he secretly wore underneath his vestments hangs above your head now, his cock still throbbing inside you. Leon wasted no time, his hand gripped the skin of your waist. He watches as your tits moved with the rhythm of his hips, deciding to let go our your waist and press his hands on top your nippled. "You're pussy feels so good. Did I say that already?" He's laughing to himself now as your eyes are closing with bliss. Thumb gliding over your clit again, he slows his pace, watching how your pussy takes him as he thrust into you. Leon keeps this pace, feeling his cock tighten up.

White streaks of cup fall down his cock, he's pulled out in time to aim it against your stomach before he rubs his length up against the fold of your pussy.

"Fuck... Look at this mess baby... Can I put it in again? One more time, i just wanna—" He presses his the head of his cock back inside you. Biting your lip, you push yourself closer to feel more of him before he pull back out again. His length is on your folds again, collecting all your slick.

Leon's adrenaline dies off, his forehead lading against yours once more, "I'd like to keep seeing you... not necessarily like this but—" He's cut off my your lips pressed up against his, feeling that magnetic pull once more when looking up at him, "I'd like that a lot."

Note: I FUCKING DID IT. I stayed up all night BUT I FUCKING DID IT.