father charlie mayhew x undercover detective fem! reader/that one fleabag scene
5k words (i went crazy with this one)
oh boy where do i begin
TAGS: siren reader!, AFAB reader, religious themes, nonreligious reader, confession booth is sexy, oraI male receiving, big d!ck charlie, dubious consent, p in v, no protection, breeding cuz duh itâs me, blood k!nk (if u squint)
after lois was nearly detained for being belligerently drunk at work, the FBI called you in. not to work alongside her no, to survey and investigate the community. the crimes surrounded her. you became loisâs daughterâs âfriendâ living with her and hanging around whenever you could. fortunately for both of you, lois did actually like your company and so did her daughter.
with some miracle you became a part of her everyday life, even tagging along when she met sister megan once. the nun was peculiar and although you werenât nearly as trusting as lois you liked her enough to fake your way into an unlikely friendship. you the hard on her luck âcollege studentâ and her the eccentric murder-obsessed nun. it worked well enough for a cover story and she seemed to buy it. given your experience you knew enough about murderers to get along with her, pretending to share her passion for serial killers and the like. she had mentioned visiting the diner over text one day, you thought it a great opportunity to get out and people watch but what you didnât expect was that she had company.
you knew megan was unconventional to say the least but you didnât expect her to be on a date with, the looks of it, a lady killer. the closer you got the more you had to mask your reaction, she was with the new priest. you just didnât expect him to be near your age and straight out of a GQ magazine. you willed a smile to your lips as you sauntered to the side of her booth, throwing an around the back of her seat and leaning down. megan tore her eyes away from the priest, meeting yours after what felt like minutes. you didnât blame her, you were having a hard time ignoring him as well. âmegan! hey i hope i'm not interrupting.â you finally looked pointedly towards him, your smile withering as you met his chocolate eyes. you hadnât seen eyes so dark in a while.
âdid something happen?â she assumed you had an update, it wouldnât be the first time since you lived so close to lois. you sometimes told her details to gain her trust, of course clearing it with lois first. you pretended you did, pretended whatever you had to say was not for the eyes of a very curious priest. his eyes hadnât left you since you interrupted.
âno, uh we can talk later.â you motioned slightly towards him and megan realized sheâd never made introductions. she broke eye contact turning towards the priest, finding him already looking at you, well more so the small sliver of skin your crop top displayed above your skirt from the way you stretched over her booth. she knew father mayhew was less traditional but she didnât expect this.
âoh y/n this is father mayhew.â you looked at him waiting a beat before you smiled brighter than before, he was intrigued to say the least. you were confusing him, sending signals he couldnât quite decipher. maybe he wasnât your type because you seemed wholly unaffected by him. that or you were just good at hiding it.
ânice to meet you mr.mayhew.â there was no way you were calling him father, you werenât religious much less catholic.
âfather-â megan started to correct you and you cocked your head to the side, ready to remind her you didnât believe in organized religion.
âcharlie is fine, please y/n, itâs nice to meet you.â he cut in before you two began your conversation, seeing the way your eyes narrowed at the correction. your eyes were back on him as soon as he said your name, masterfully hiding how your stomach flipped at it coming from his lips. it didnât matter to him that you werenât religious, hell it might be for the best if you werenât. he would rather never see you or your red heels ever again.
âcharlie, iâll leave you two to it.â you attributed the startling attraction you felt to the taboo of it all. a priest, sinfully handsome, and from the look of his shoulders and arms his body was even more unholy. your glances had been brief but they were enough to spike your curiosity.
âplease join us, iâd be interested to hear whatever you were about to share.â there was that egotistical expression on his face that made you think he didnât usually get no from women.
âoh i donât know itâs kind of a secret. can you keep a secret charlie?â you were pulling out all the stops, straightening your posture, batting your eyelids, even cocking your head to the side and if megan wasnât so transfixed by his reaction she wouldâve taken notes. he was completely drawn into you, reminding himself to blink and respond when you a smile twitched at the corner of your lips when you were met with silence. you knew you had him and he knew too.
âletâs pretend this is confession.â he drew his arms out, leaning back against the booth and you took the challenge, sitting next to megan before she could try to leave you two alone. the scent of your perfume hit him as you sat down, sensual and distinct. heâd remember it for days.
âsure confession, iâve always liked the notion. thereâs something so sexy about the whole thing donât you think megan?â charlie watched you try to shift the subject away from whatever you came to say. he wasnât so naive. however one thing became clear, you didnât trust him.
âoh geez, i guess it is sexy. youâre dishing out your deepest darkest secrets in a small box where you canât see the other person.â he could see the way your eyes softened around the edges when you looked at megan. and the way they changed when you looked back towards him. he hadnât felt so wholly consumed by someone. whatever trap you had laid out, he was ensnared.
âiâve always wondered who a priest confesses to?â
âGod.â his eyebrow cocked at the question, eyes lighting up in amusement and you bashfully nodded your head.
âah right.â megan laughed at your response, finding the exchange a bit trivial. she was itching to hear the new information.
âiâm gonna head back to the church, canât exactly leave it unattended this long. sister it was great to speak with you and again nice to meet you y/n.â you waved him a goodbye as he got up and walked past you both, your eyes never leaving him until you couldnât crane your neck much further. megan shook off the worries that were beginning to surface and instead pestered you to spill your guts. you did as soon as the dinerâs bell rang to signal the door closing. you told her what you had rehearsed all the while being haunted by the ghost of father mayhewâs appearance.
the murders continued and you spent late nights with lois spinning every possible theory. you couldnât scratch the itch that bothered you about megan and charlie. instead of asking megan to meet you, you decided to visit the father himself. although you would play it off as a last minute plan you carefully dressed for the occasion, a baby pink cropped cardigan covered your lacy tank top fit with high waisted flare jeans that hugged your curves just right. it looked casual and your skin was indeed covered enough for church but if you stretched or raised your arms even slightly your skin would show and you knew his eyes would find their way there just like before. you wore baby pink platform heels to match even, your hair up in a seemingly effortless updo that actually took you thirty minutes to perfect. and to top it all off you made sure to smell downright sinful and gloss your lips to the heavens.
he didnât stand a chance.
you were grateful to find the church empty save the priest in question sitting in the pews reading what you assumed was the bible. the click of your heels drew his gaze over his shoulder, he would lose this battle without a doubt in his mind. he only hoped god would forgive him after. he rose to stand, abandoning the bible with ease and a smile crept to your lips as he met you in the walkway between the pews.
ây/n, what a surprise i thought you werenât religious.â he didnât think heâd see you again, not like this at least. maybe only in his dreams or when the desire deep inside him took over.
âoh iâm not, just curious.â you cocked your head to the side and charlie had a sneaking suspicion you got whatever you wanted when you did that. he wasnât a stranger to using his looks to get things handed to him, he just didnât expect to be so easily swayed by it himself.
âanything i can help you with?â as much as he would have liked to continue this staring contest he had an idea you were here on a mission. you had unsuccessfully hidden how taken you were with him. now standing at his full height you were finding it hard to disguise your attraction. he was tall, much taller than you had figured and even in your heels you came up to his shoulder. his body was crafted for sports, for modeling, for anything but the cloth. the sheer strength he wielded was going to waste, you wondered why he needed it all.
âyou and sister megan are so wholly devoted to all this. iâve never had that, something soâŚguiding.â he invited you to sit next to where he was situated before, you did with ease crossing your legs and sitting closer than you should be.
âyour morals surely come from somewhere.â
âmy parents, they werenât religious, at least not catholic. all these murders, it just made me wonder.â you spoke in hushed whispers, the church was eerily quiet, so starkly different from the chaos of loisâs home.
âyouâre scared, itâs reasonable to be. faith can give you strength but it canât fix everything.â his head turned down towards you, onyx eyes sucking you in, you were captivated.
âhey i thought i was the atheist here.â you bumped your shoulder against his or really your shoulder against the muscle of his arms. he sucked in a breath, finding himself thinking less of religion the more he looked into your eyes. charlie drew the bible in front of him, turning the page to where he knew heâd find distraction.
âIsaiah 41:13 God promises to comfort and help those who are worried, and to take their hand and guide them through difficult times.â he turned the page to continue, not licking his finger in time and cutting his finger on the paper. it had never happened before and he didnât even notice it until you listened on, eyes naturally drawn to his large veiny hands and then the pearl of blood that threatened to drop on the spotless floor.
âoh charlie,â you took his right hand in both of yours, thoroughly stopping his reading. you did the first thing you could think of, not wanting the blood to spill anywhere, bringing it to your lips and licking it off, meeting his gaze bashfully. the familiar taste of salty iron lined your teeth. the wet warm lap of your tongue against the pad of his finger combined with the sheen of your lips and your eye contact made charlie suddenly very aware of his corporeal form, all the rest of his blood rushing south. you did it so casually, as if consuming his blood was as natural as wine. the quiet vulnerability making him twitch in his pants. he thanked god it wasnât well lit in the church or the bulge in his black slacks would be apparent. fortunately for him you were also too embarrassed to notice.
âs-sorry i just didnât want it to spill.â you dropped his hand quickly, ignoring the warmth between your legs and opting to look very intently at the first button of his dress shirt. he needed to diffuse the situation before he coaxed you upstairs and smudged your damned lip gloss.
âitâs alright, iâm gonna grab a bandaid.â
âokay iâll be hiding in the confession box trying not to burst into flames.â he laughed at your admission, he hadnât expected you to be so embarrassed. it was probably the hottest thing heâd experienced and he thought you would own it, own that you were unabashedly seducing him. perhaps heâd misjudged your intentions all along. he came back to empty pews and he scoffed at the realization you were actually in the booth.
âwhat do you wish to confess?â he assumed the position, taking it as seriously as he could muster. part of him was wishing you would just tell him something substantial about yourself, he didnât even know what you did for a living.
âhow much time do you have?â charlie huffed a laugh at your words and you liked his laugh, it was airier and lighter than you expected. âi suppose ill start with the most recent sin, i embarrassed myself in front of a priest. surely thatâs against some rule.â
ânot entirely, embarrassment isnât a sin.â he crossed his arms across his chest, endeared by your admission.
âright, what about lust?â he closed his eyes, heâd nearly gone half-soft but here you were painting deadly images in his mind. he felt like a teenage boy, rock hard and trying to will it down.
âlust, one of the seven deadly sins, but it can be forgiven. that is if you donât act on it.â
âah iâve never been good at that part.â
âi can pray for you, kneel with me.â you did as he said, finding it hard to deny him of anything when his voice was so deep and commanding through the grated screen. you waited a beat and then another, breathing out in and out. you wondered if he was trying to remember a prayer or you were too far gone for one that readily came to mind. instead you heard him grumble under his breath, the church far too quiet for it to go unnoticed.
âfuck it.â you blinked your eyes in surprise, the wood digging into your knees as you waited another beat and the curtain to your side was drawn open and charlie stood in front of you. the sight of you kneeling nearly made him pass out, he swore heâd never been so hard in his life.
âtell me no.â his large hand, now with a bandage on one finger, slid to the side of your face, tilting your face up and up until your neck craned to meet his as he stepped closer. the heat of his body radiated against you. his thumb pushed at the plush of your bottom lip, the lip gloss was as sticky as he imagined, drawing your mouth open. your eyelashes fluttered at the gentle pressure, the coaxing, the slow sensuality of it all. you felt as if you would actually burst into flames, you wished you had worn a skirt. the denim of your jeans felt like hot coals against your skin, your underwear sticky with need. he could see the desire dripping from your gaze, but he needed to be sure.
âi canât.â you whispered, like the obedient girl you were. and that was enough for him, he shoved the thumb fully between your lips, you hummed at the intrusion. the warm wet heat of your mouth made him whimper as you swirled around the finger sucking it like you wanted so desperately to do something else. your gaze finally moved from his eyes down the length of his body to his slacks, you raised up on your knees and you were eye level with his bulge. even in the dim light you could tell he was massive and your jaw would be sore tomorrow.
âfather let me help you, please?â he huffed a breath at the name, there was no going back now though, he knew what he was doing making you kneel. he nodded at your request, removing his hand from your face so you could do as you pleased. the urgency in your motions made him scoff as you practically tore his zipper down and cupped his bulge. you fidgeted to get his length through and when you did you grinned at the sight. the shadow of his length covered your face and while you were intimidated and failing to hide it you still licked tentatively at the furious red tip.
âgood girl.â he smiled down at you and you squeezed your thighs at his words, cleaning up all the precum along his slit. he was so big you didnât think youâd get him even halfway down your throat, but you were never a quitter. your hand circled his base, one cupping his heavy balls as you licked along his shaft, veins protruding angrily and you kissed the tip one more time before flattening your tongue against the bottom of him, stretching your mouth as wide as you could to accommodate his girth. it was a struggle to attempt and you groaned at how hard it was. he chuckled at your frustration, he couldnât deny how hot the whole scene was. he placed a hand on your head, guiding you down his length and you moaned at the feeling, shivering from how badly you needed him. you wished for some sense of relief and so you took one hand off his balls and tried to touch yourself. it was no use because charlie saw you, catching your wrist. he was gentle until then, forcing you down his length and you gagged. he was so heavy and thick you felt like you couldnât breathe. the sensation made you nearly lightheaded and he finally released his grip letting you relax and slink back. you got into a comfortable rhythm then, pumping the length you couldnât reach and swirling your tongue along his veins while moving up and down his length. he could tell he was close from the small groans and whimpers you could hear, his grip on your wrist tightening until he let go completely and pulled you off him. he tapped his cock against your tongue, debating if he should finish this now or give in fully to what he needed.
âtell me about your sin.â your eyes glazed over as he held his cock away from your mouth, letting you speak but making you mourn the heavy feeling. it took you a few seconds to remember what he was talking about.
âiâve touched myself thinking about this man, but heâs devoted to someone else, to god. it never feels as good as i know he can make me feel.â your gaze traveling from his cock to his eyes, he jaw clenched as he looked away before leaning down and lifting you effortlessly out of the booth and into his hold. your legs looped around his waist and your arms around his neck. he was strong and solid against you, and you whined at the slightest hint of friction of your core bumping his belt buckle.
âwe can attone later.â itâs all he says as heâs walking purposefully up the stairs and down a hallway, the walk is long or at least it feels that way when youâre nearly drunk from desire.
your back hits something soft, you realize itâs his bed as heâs climbing over you. you sit up, unbuttoning his shirt while heâs doing the same to your pesky jeans. his shirt is unbuttoned before heâs pulling them off you and you marvel at the sculpted muscles of his body. you're not sure if youâre drooling but you could be. he doesnât bother to take your heels off, opting for your cardigan and crop top next. and you whine as you try to reach the buttons of his slacks, he tucked himself back in at some point and you donât like the insinuation. charlie canât help but laugh at you, maybe you werenât the femme fatale he thought you were. âpatience is a virtue.â heâs got you in your bra and panties splayed out under him and he relished in the sight of your lip gloss smudged. in the light of his room he could see all the sinful details of your body and he couldnât wait to wreck every part he hadnât touched yet. he kneels in front of you, shirt gone and his slacks unbuttoned, watching your chest rise and fall in anticipation as you maintain eye contact. he can tell youâre struggling to, the way your eyelids droop and narrow. when heâs finally bare in front of you, youâre looping your arms around his neck and pulling him down, finally kissing him and itâs as messy as you hoped for. all teeth and tongue, he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood and you groan into his mouth. heâs feral and you canât help but arch into him, the hard planes of his body pressing so deliciously against you, you silently wish you could grind against his abs for some kind of friction. charlie pins your wrists above you with one of his hands, the other deftly unclasping your bra, an action that speaks volumes of his experience.
he doesnât loosen his grip on your wrists even slightly, somehow in control despite the rabid look in his eyes, trailing his lips down your neck, biting and sucking likely leaving marks for tomorrow. you buck your hips into him, desperate for something, anything. heâs so hard against your core, sliding against your stomach. you canât imagine heâll fit, not with how far up your chest his length reaches. your thoughts are drawn back to the hot mouth thatâs latching to your nipple, bitting and sucking like itâs the last thing heâll do. charlie groans around your breast, massaging the other one with his hand rough palms creating a friction you try to get closer to. heâs slurping and biting so roughly youâre whining without realizing, tears pricking your eyes from the sharp pain. itâs so devastating you think it might be the way you want to go out.
and when you feel you might just come from his mouth on your breasts, heâs moving off you with a pop to his lips. itâs reminiscent of your actions downstairs and his cock twitches at the image. he leans back to take a look at his work releasing your wrists, bite marks and bruises littering your shaking chest and his lips curl in a smile. you think youâve never seen him genuinely happy until now. he stays out of your reach kneeling between your spread legs and you almost complain until heâs peeling your underwear off you, itâs sticky and you revel in the cool air finally grazing your heat. charlieâs eyes are inexplicably drawn to how youâre nearly dripping onto his sheets, the light illuminating how badly you needed him, and from the looks of it it was just as long as he did. you canât help the moan slip from your mouth when heâs biting his lips and spreading your folds to watch a fat wad of arousal drop down to your ass.
your pleasure ends when you see him leaning down for a taste, far too gone for any more foreplay. you need him and you need him now. youâre twitching when you slide your fingers into his hair, drawing your gaze to him. the hunger in his gaze doesnât dissolve but the black of his eyes seems to soften when he sees your wrecked expression.
âplease i need your cock, now please.â youâre begging and charlie canât say no to that. heâs been aching for what feels like forever. he coos at your request, wiping the tears you didnât even notice were falling and moves back on top of you, the satisfying weight against you calming whatever worries you had. but he doesnât give you what you want. his fingers, still spreading your folds dip into you, thereâs zero resistance from your sopping entrance, but the stretch makes your eyes roll back. âplease.â you donât want his fingers, you donât care if he splits you in half at this point.
ârelax baby,â heâs soothing you as best as he can when he just wants to sink into you. instead of focusing on where he can make you unravel, he scissors you open, getting impatient himself. you hum at the shift, bringing his lips to yours with a hand still threading through his hair. when he adds a third finger you groan at the stretch. âso tight darling, you wonât be able to take me.â heâs purring at you, teasing you. you canât string the words together to dissuade him. when heâs satisfied youâre stretched enough he pulls back, licking his fingers and groaning at the taste. devine, just like he expected.
despite your wishes heâs leaning back, tapping his angry cock head against your clit, and you realize his words may be true. your legs slide over his shoulders like they were made to be there and when you look down at your entrance, panic creeps in.
âi donât think it will fit.â he watches your eyes widen, your brows furrowed in genuine concern. itâs comical.
âwhere did my good girl go? you were just begging for it.â heâs teasing you, laughing at the way your wide eyes meet his. without you responding, he slips his head towards your entrance, catching on it and slipping away, fuck you were so tight. you whimpered at the feeling, trying to slink away from him but he tightens his hold on your hips. you realize, albeit far too late, your heels are still on and very much on his shoulders.
âit wonât fit.â youâre pleading with him, for what exactly youâre not sure. and then heâs leaning down, pressing the tops of your thighs back towards you, folding you in half, his lips not quite reaching yours.
âiâll make it fit.â without warning heâs nudging at your entrance again, bullying his way in and you whine and jostle at the feeling. itâs too big, the stretch too much and you feel tears prick your eyes. heâs tearing you open, ruining your for anyone else and you canât find it in you to care.
when the tip is finally in you breathe out in relief, thereâs still an ache between your legs and you know youâre dripping onto his sheets but you think the worst is over. you donât know youâre far from it. because while charlie is a man of faith, of perseverance and virtue he canât hold back from how addictive your pussy is. the tight hug of your cunt around his tip drives him to ease his full length into you without warning. you paw at his chest, eyes rolling back as he pushes his way fully in nestling against your cervix and curving inside you. making you gush out more liquid than you knew you had. in fact, itâs so much youâre not sure if youâre squirting or you just came. the pain and pleasure mix into one and you think scream his name. you swear you can feel him in your ribcage and you choke out a breath.
heâs barely holding himself still when his balls finally rest against you. your walls are molding to him, and he think he might have died and gone to heaven. âso fucking tight, you were made for me.â a deep groan leaves him before he can hold back and you whine at the sound, clenching down on him and making him only more painfully turned on. you can feeling him throbbing inside, carving you out, the veins of his cock pressed against.
when you begin to squirm under him, still not used to his size but not in pain, he starts moving. every time he moves out he feels he has to push back in, your poor abused cunt is gripping him so tight, he feels bad even pulling out. the burn becomes so intense and every time his tip bumps your cervix you twitch beneath him. he presses a sweet kiss to your ankle over the strap of your heels before pressing his hips down and reaching even deeper. you cry out his name at the change in position and then heâs drilling into you like he wants you to be ruined forever. you donât know where your orgasms start or end as he continuously fucks against your most sensitive spot, your mind numb from pleasure and the only word leaving your lips is his name and cries of pleasure.
heâs no better, he swears he might be addicted to you. the way you call out his name, the way you clench around him when he groans and how you seem to still get wetter from his thrusts. he hopes you donât blame him when he feels himself getting close already, from the look on your face he realizes you might not be able to think at all. his pace is cruel, driving you into the mattress and likely denting the wooden floor.
your mind is fractured into a million tiny pieces; the only thing you know is that you need him. and when heâs close heâs pressing into you like he wants to get you pregnant, heâs breeding you, making you his and you come again. thereâs no room for his cum inside you, so itâs leaking out the sides and he canât have that, not after how good youâve been, how well you take him, so heâs scooping it back up and fingering it inside you all the while pumping you full. you donât know when you started crying but you can taste the saltiness of your tears when you pull him down for a kiss, savoring in the drag of his tongue along your teeth and you suck on it slightly, still hungry. he wishes the moment could last forever, but begrudgingly he pulls out and swallows down your whimper. how could he ever begin to atone for this? he had a feeling he would be begging for forgiveness for the rest of his life, there was no way he could forget you.













