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thornsinmycrown · 3 months

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PRAYING HANDS

YANDERE!PATRICK MCKENNA x READER

warnings: [ MDNI +18 ] religious themes, yandere themes, stalking, obsession, constantly fantasizing about kidnapping (father mckenna). word count: 639

summary: you're in his mind, day and night, like a holy prayer.

Every day, he watches you pray from afar, how you come and go seldomly like the tiny flowers that grow outside the window of his room on spring, floating around the cathedral the same way the wind carries a lonely dry leaf that falls from a tree, he can't help but stutter a bit every time he looks your way when giving the sermon.

He can't decipher your glances, yours seem magnetic to him, like a deer's peering his lashes tenderly to tempt him, and the temperature of the room changes to a cozy hell whenever you close your eyes and fold your hands in front of you to pray, they look delicate — oh so soft.

Everything of you looks so soft for him to grasp, from the shiny threads that form your hair and frame your face, to the texture of your skin shimmering with the painted glass of the windows, the gracefulness in which your lips move to mumble the morning prayers and how your hands trace across your body the holy cross, he swears he can see the halo in your head once you walk in, but then why —oh God, why?— does he feel that churning inside when he sees you?

If your angelic presence's holiness is not questioned, why does he feel like he is comforted by the vision of the sweetest of all angels in hell?

Are his eyes sinning every time they admire you? Is it unholy to hold his breath when he passes so tortuously behind you through the aisles when the church closes its doors? Why are his thoughts so insistent on betraying his faith?

He can't find his resolve any sooner.

You're a God's creature and he is a servant of God, isn't it his duty to unconditionally love his every creation?

He knows he is in the wrong longing everything of you, he is aware he shouldn't be so eager to send all to the damn just to meet a caress in his cheek of the softness of your praying hands, within his soul he knows these are not God trials, these are the Devil's work to lure him. He knew well Satan was once an angel and so were you — then why couldn't he deny you?

You weren't more than a human, but that didn't make you any less than an enchantress. He imagines you in inappropriate scenarios, eyes rolled back and knuckles turning white, writhing and yearning, flesh to flesh flushed hellfire red late at night. He was never a romantic, and would never be, nevertheless, would whisper all of this nonsense like a chant into the void of his room make you come to him?

Patrick is not dumb, he can see the clear confusion in your face, your sweet features wonder what invade his mind while looking at you, and he wishes you could understand he only wants the best for you, that the pureness of his intentions should not be questioned — and how much he wants to keep you.

He grows white roses in his room, thinking they would give a bit of life to it, making it more appealing for you, he even got blankets with the colorful tones of the clothes he has seen you wear to make it seem comfortable. He hopes you like them so you can stay with him, Patrick dreams of the day when you can finally become a part of him, when you'll arrive to stay at his humble whereabouts and stay forever, he wouldn't mind if you want to or not, he would be glad to make you stay.

He prays with you in mind, prays and prays for God to let him see you again with desperation, on his knees in his praying sessions begging to his holy father to give you to him.

Author's note: I was watching angels & demons the other day and remembered Father McKenna exists so, this is a bit more of a drabble than anything else, I don't think I will do a follow-up of it unless it is well received or I get more inspiration to do another different reader.

#dark content #patrick mckenna x reader #yandere patrick mckenna x reader #yandere!patrick mckenna x reader #ewan mcgregor x reader #yandere ewan mcgregor #fay writes

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stayevildarling · 1 month

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5 and 14 for the character ask game with each sarah character please <33

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them? + 14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Billie Dean Howard:

5: „Oh, pretty woman“ by Roy Orbison and „National Anthem“ by Lana Del Ray

14: old money

Cordelia Goode:

5: „Je te laisserai des mots“ by Patrick Watson

14: witchcore with a bit of cottage core

Ally Mayfair Richards:

5: „Bang, Bang, Bang, Bang“ by Sohodolls

14: gay soccer mom

Wilhemina Venable:

5: „Little dark age“ by MGMT and „Bloody Mary“ by Lady Gaga

14: dark academia but ✨purple✨

Audrey Tindall:

5: „Yellow“ by Coldplay or „She‘s so lovely“ by Scouting for Girls

14: cottage core

Sally McKenna:

5: „Tear you apart“ by She wants revenge

14: edgy, grunge

Lana Winters:

5: „Cigarette Duet“ by Princess Chelsea

14: vintage chic

Mildred Ratched:

5: ,,Who is she?'' by I Monster

14: vintage? (specifically 1947?)

Tammy (Oceans 8)

5: ,,These boots are made for walking'' by Nancy Sinatra + ,,I kissed a girl'' by Katy Perry

14: same as Ally tbh gay soccer mom

side note: this is really funny because the other day I was thinking about this. imagine being on a roadtrip with them. Cordelia lets you choose music and then one of them remembers you saying you have a playlist with songs that remind you of them. Imagine playing ,,Pretty woman'' for Billie, she would be an adorable blushing mess. Then playing a really soft love song for Cordelia only to then play ,,Bloody Mary'' or one of the darker songs that remind you of Mina. Her face, she would be furious but this would be so funny 🤣

#asks #character game #I apologise for not doing the others #but I don't really care about them #ahs #American horror story #Cordelia goode #Billie Dean howard #wilhemina venable #ally mayfair richards #sally mckenna #Audrey tindall #mildred ratched #ratched #oceans 8 #Tammy #Sarah paulson

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parvulous-writings · 3 years

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Would it be a Sin? // Patrick McKenna x Fem!Reader

Request: Hello. 💐 I'll fully disclose that I've returned with a purely a self-indulgent oneshot request. I read your Patrick McKenna NSFW alphabet the other day and I just...*sigh* So so so good!I'd love if you could write a oneshot based on the letter D, "dirty secret." Patrick wearing the clerical collar makes me feel all sorts of feelings (🥵), so I'd love to see you delve more into this and satiate our unholy desires! Feel free to make it as smutty as you wish!xoxo,polishksiezniczka ❤

Requested by: @polishksiezniczka

Summary: A oneshot based on my NSFW alphabet for Father McKenna, focusing particularly on the letters ‘D’ and ‘W’ (Dirty secret and wildcard)

Warnings: NSFW content ahead, reader discretion is advised. Breaking of vows of chastity/celibacy.

Words: 1.6K

Notes: This is my first time writing a full smut oneshot, so, please bear with me as I get used to displaying how I write such intimacy- especially with a wider/larger audience. Just writing a fem oneshot, since this is what I am most familiar with- though if anyone wants a masc oneshot, I can do that!

Not my gif

There had always been something.. Oddly erotic about Father McKenna’s clerical clothing. It wasn’t something you brought up to him, not ever, but you vaguely acknowledged it in the back of your mind. You weren’t sure if he was aware of it, he usually blanked desires and temptations of the carnal variety. It was habit for him, something he did without thinking. Sometimes this was very much a perk for him; able to go great lengths without feeling desire towards another. Other times, it was not so much, he becomes blind to your advances, no matter how obvious or explicit they may be. In particular, you liked his collar. The sense of power behind it’s meaning, the supposed purity that came with it. You knew all too well that McKenna’s vows of chastity and celibacy had long since been broken, but the facade of a virgin man that he still kept up to this day amongst others of his creed was something you admired, and almost yearned to an extent. Most days you could hide the way it made you feel, the things it did to you. Today was not one of those days.

You were sat down in Patrick’s office, as per the norm. You often found yourself in here, sat in the same old chair, one leg folded over the other to try and alleviate the aching need at the apex of your thighs, such was the case today. Patrick was stood by his window- you referred it to his window simply because he was the only person to spend so much time next to that specific window. Sure, it was his office, but priests and cardinals were often in and out of the room, and none of them spent as much time next to that window. They were usually seated, like you were now. You are drawn from your thoughts when Patrick clears his throat to grab your attention. You look at him, rather blankly, and he sighs. “I asked you if you were alright.” He said to you, and you nodded hurriedly. “Yes, yes, fine...” You feebly attempt to assure him, shuffling in your seat. He notices this slightly odd behaviour quite quickly. He glances down at your legs, giving a soft chuckle, for once catching on to your predicament rather quickly. “I think you’re a little more than just alright, aren’t you?” He teased lightly as he strode across the room, towards his bookcase. Your eyes trailed over his clothed body as he moved, and though you couldn’t actually see or make out any proper detail on his body, your mind was rampant with imaginings of it. He stayed at his bookcase for a brief moment, before looking over his shoulder at you. “You know... I think I know what can be done to help you...” He chuckled, an almost wicked grin starting to spread over his face.

You feel heat settle in the pit of your belly at the expression, and he moves back to his desk, placing his hands on the surface as he looks you over. He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, “Uncross your legs, beloved.” He chuckled quietly, glancing down at your knees as he spoke. You cautiously do as he asks,keeping your hands on your needs. “Good girl.” He praises in that low, silky tone that only seems to make an appearance when in the bedroom. You give a slight sheepish smile as he stands up straight again, perching himself on the top of the desk, looking down at you. “Now... What to do... You need assistance, clearly..” He chuckled again, folding his arms over his chest as he pondered over what to do, how to treat this... sin. That’s when an idea struck him. “On your knees, over there.” He commanded, gesturing over to the carpet in the middle of the room. You glance to him as you get to your feet, moving quickly to where he had pointed. You sink to your knees, looking expectantly to him as he still leant against his desk. “Recite three Hail Marys.” He nods to you, and you bow your head in response, mumbling the prayer before he interrupts you. “Louder. I want to hear you.” He’s smirking as he speaks- you could just hear it in the glee in his voice. You clear your throat, starting to speak again. “Hail Mary, full of Grace, The Lord is with thee.” You start the prayer, and Patrick mouths along with you, starting to move around the room till he stood behind you. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.” You can feel his presence a pace or so behind you, but you don’t dare to raise your head just yet. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death.” You shuffle a little bit as you continue, the feeling of carnal desire returning to settle in your core. You hesitate to continue with your first repetition of the prayer, and Patrick leans down to speak in your ear. “Finish the prayer, darling.” The way he emphasises the pet name makes you shiver and your mind to go blank. “Would you like me to help you with it?” He teased, and you couldn’t help but nod. He kneels down behind you, his mouth still close to your ear as he finished the prayer, your voice echoing his. “ Glory Be to the Father..” He was speaking slowly, allowing you to speak along with him. "And to the Son... and to the Holy Spirit.” By the end of the prayer, his lips are trailing over the skin of your jaw, ghosting over the most sensitive areas, lighting your skin on fire in the wake of those truly sinful lips.

You started to lean back into the affection he was partially giving to you, but he stops you before you can get too comfortable. “Ah-ah. You still have two Hail Marys, do you not?” He pointed out, and you gave a quiet groan of frustration. You no longer wished to complete his given task, you didn’t even think you could do so- your mind kept going completely blank every time you felt his breath against the side of your face, and the skin of your neck. At your lack of response, Patrick hums softly, burying his face into the side of your neck and pressing a few featherlight kisses there. “You need to answer me, dearest.” “I can’t.” You whine, almost breathlessly. It was the truth, at least. You feel the vibration of his laugh against your neck, and you head falls back at the sensation. “Patrick... Please...” You whisper to him, and he pauses momentarily. “Alright, alright...” He soothes you quietly, before pulling away briefly, moving towards the windows and drawing the drapes to overlap, blocking out the light and the rest of the world. He turns back to you, pulling the clerical collar from it’s place. He places the garment on his desk, moving back to you, crouching in front of you, and placing his fingers beneath your chin, lifting your head slightly so that you looked up at him. He presses his lips to your own, surging forward with a fire that you two shared only occasionally, in the heat of the moment. You both shuffle a little bit, your lips separating intermittently as you move onto your back, him looming over you, supported by his arms as his lips spread kiss after kiss over your cheeks, down your jaw to your neck. You wrap your arms around him, drawing his body closer to your own, your hands snaking up into his hair, gently pulling on it. At this action, Patrick nipped a little harder at your skin, drawing a quiet mewl from your lips.

There is more, almost awkward shuffling, as your clothes and garments were hurriedly shoved and pushed aside, though most of this was a blur to the pair of you, spurred on by the need to feel each other in the throes of passion. His lips were on yours, and yours on his, showing one another the passion you were often unable to through speech alone. It was bliss in it’s purest form; even Patrick could not deny it. The power you had over one another was unparalleled- though there were no thoughts, only the pursuit of pleasure in both of your actions. Your hands clasp at each other, bringing your closer and closer to one another, and closer to coital release. The heavy sound of yours and Patrick’s pants and gasps are the one of the only sounds in the room- the other being the gentle slap of skin on skin. As Patrick’s grunts grow slightly louder and his hips snapped into yours, you know he is growing close to his release. He buries his face into your skin to muffle his moans as his hips stuttered and eventually, spilling into you with a final groan and a sigh. With a final few quasi-thrusts, you snap around him, giving a loud whine and clutching him close for a moment longer.

After a few quiet moments, Patrick pulls himself away from you, readjusting himself quickly. He looked down at you, almost proud of his work, of disheveling you in such a way. He put his hand to your cheek before brushing your hair off of your forehead, though it stuck to your skin due to a sheen of sweat on your brow. “Now... Let’s see to getting you cleaned up. That helped, did it not?” He mused quietly, and you nod as he helps you redress- you leave the Vatican together, and early, so the pair of you could get cleaned up properly.

#patrick mckenna #patrick mckenna x reader #patrick mckenna imagine #camerlengo patrick mckenna #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor smut

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polishksiezniczka · 3 years

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Camerlengo Patrick McKenna Smut ABCs | Camerlengo x Female Reader

Some smut for our favorite priest ❤

As I was writing this, I couldn’t help but think that our favorite ~il camerlengo~ shares the trifecta of smut with Obi-Wan Kenobi: religious devotion, dramatic robes and pure, raw sexual energy. 🔥

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Patrick is oh so attentive and considerate. He strokes your body softly, listening as your heartbeats gradually slow and fall in sync together. He’ll softly whisper declarations of love to you in his luscious accent, making you flush even more.

Bonus: When you’re in each other’s arms bathing in the afterglow, he adores it when you carefully play with his crucifix necklace (you better believe he wears it during sex after you *accidentally* let slip how turned on you get when he wears it).

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Patrick loves to hold you using his upper body strength—his arms are deliciously strong and toned, but not in an overly-muscular way. He can’t help but groan and roll his head back when you cling to them for dear life during the throes of passion, your nails lightly digging into his skin.

It’s difficult for him to choose—you’re too perfect to pick just one element. If he had to, he’d choose your hair, your neck, or your breasts.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Because he was brought up in the Church, he doesn’t really do that sort of thing. Not to mention he views the practice as somewhat degrading to you.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs).

Obviously, you. He’s a priest and supposed to be “married” to the Church!

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Patrick is somewhat experienced. While serving in the army he had a few exploits, but he’s still relatively inexperienced. Not that you could ever tell though—he’s the best lover you’ve ever had.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Missionary! (HAHAHA…I’m going to hell for this.)

Patrick loves any sort of position where he’s able to see you fully. He treats sex as if it were a sacred rite: he wants to be able to watch the desire cloud your eyes, thoroughly kiss your soft lips, devour the creamy flesh of your torso, and do nothing less than worship you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

It depends on the situation. Patrick will usually take things pretty seriously—intensely pleasuring you, maintaining fervent eye contact, going slow and sensual—but sometimes you find yourselves in a giddy mood, especially after something good has happened to one of you. Then his playful side will come out: little nips at your ears and neck, gentle tickling of your sides, low chuckles, and a lot more teasing than normal. You delight in rendezvous like these, batting your eyes and telling him how much you want him.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

OH GOD. You know how well Patrick takes care of himself. His hair is impeccable, always neatly combed and styled. You adore running your fingers through it and lightly scratching his scalp, though you’re careful not to muss it up too much.

The sight of his bare chest makes your heart flutter every time you see it. You love to card your fingers through the lovely patch of curly ginger hair which grows there, a huge turn-on for Patrick. The same hair starts again just below his navel, creeping down his stomach and past his waistband. It’s another part of him that never fails to make you swoon and unconsciously lick your lips.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Patrick is so romantic. He constantly whispers you how much he loves you, how much you mean to him, and how he can never be without you. Despite the unimaginable pleasure he provides you, his words sometimes make you teary-eyed during the moment—something you find extremely embarrassing but he adores.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Patrick suffers from SERIOUS Catholic guiltiness when it comes to masturbation. He’s done it before (when he was younger especially) but would never admit so to you. He only resorts to pleasuring himself when you’re apart for extended periods of time and always feels the need to confess to his sins of “taking his flesh” afterward.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Praise: Patrick’s need to praise you is insatiable and he does it constantly when you’re together. He loves to tell you how good you feel, how perfect you are, how sweet you smell, or how well you respond to him as he leans close to your ear, kissing and sucking. Although he can be reticent to accept compliments himself, you can tell how much it affects him when you whisper how only he can bring you this amount of love, pleasure, and satisfaction.

Priest: Patrick goes mad when you play into your priest kink and loves it when you call him “Father,” especially because you don’t often do so. As gentle as he is, this drives him wild, animalistic almost.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

On the bed or couch, especially with your hair splayed out across a pillow. You recently introduced him to shower sex, something he enjoys far more than he expected to. And of course, always somewhere private.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your soft, innocent touches that lead to lingering thoughts and desires. When you run your hands across his chest and through his hair. Whispering how much you love and want him.

Oddly enough, your modesty also makes him hot under the collar (literally). The idea that you conceal your beautiful figure to others and only allow him to see and adore it awakens a deep and primal lust in Patrick.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t swear that often and never uses the Lord’s name in vain. He also would never do anything that could hurt you or in some way degrade you.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He strongly prefers to give. He loves to huskily tell you how much you taste like sin when he’s between your thighs and caressing you with his mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual—it’s called lovemaking for a reason.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

You and Patrick don’t really engage in these because of the nature of your relationship—there are few moments when you can spend time together during the day. Patrick doesn’t like the idea either, as he can’t properly worship your body as much as he believes you deserve and derives so much pleasure from taking his time with you. He is never one to complain about stolen kisses, though.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Again, due to his position and all the publicity, Patrick prefers to keep risks to a minimum. He never would demand anything of you, but he requests that your liaisons be kept private out of concern for you and your relationship.

Once, however, you admitted a shameful desire of yours, and he gave in. So, late one night you made love in a confessional. Although he felt like he would be cursed with eternal damnation, he couldn’t help but admit how arousing it was.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Patrick’s stamina is intense; he never seems to tire, even after the care and attention he puts into each and every round. You teasingly attribute this voraciousness to all his pent-up lust while in seminary. But when you’re exhausted, he completely respects this and would never push you beyond your physical limits.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No; why would he defile perfection by using anything other than his body?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This side of Patrick really comes out when he’s feeling frisky or playful. He relishes that he can turn you into a puddle of goo with just one look—your eyes glaze over, your breath hitches, and you suddenly have difficulty maintaining eye contact. He’ll then begin to touch and kiss you slowly, almost chastely, until you’re a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Volume-wise Patrick tends to be on the softer side, though he can surprise you. What he sometimes lacks in volume he makes up for in quality. Patrick makes the most delicious and sinful sounds you can imagine: gasps at your expert ministrations, moans when you kiss him deeply. Your personal favorite? The sound of him purring into your ear as he showers you with praise and words of affection.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The man’s scent alone makes you goddamn feral. It’s clean and masculine, with just a hint of spice. You love to bury your face in his neck and chest, inhaling him as you litter his skin with reminders of your devotion.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Patrick is incredibly well-endowed. In fact the first few times you were together, you were in slight pain (much to Patrick’s agony) and felt sore for days afterward. Oh but Patrick made it all better: drawing you warm baths, scooping you up, and tenderly massaging every inch of your body with his large hands. 😏

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

On the higher end, but it’s completely attached to you.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When you’re in each other’s arms, he feels completely relaxed and can usually fall asleep within a few minutes, but he likes to wait for you drift off to sleep and then silently watch you in your most peaceful state. Your breathing steadies, your brow relaxes, and your hair softly falls about your face, still glowing from physical exertion. As sleep begins to take hold of him, he whispers that you look just like an angel.

Taglist: @seraferna @lemairepstuff

#ewan mcgregor #smut #patrick mckenna #camerlengo #angels and demons #patrick mckenna imagine #forgive me father for i have sinned #obi wan kenobi #ewanfuckinmcgregor #carlo ventresca #obi wan smut

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getlostsquidward · 3 years

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no body, no crime

Sally McKenna x fem!reader

A/N: Based on the prompt date idea: bury the corpses of people your s/o killed together. I just twisted it a bit. Title from another Taylor song lmao

Warnings: blood, murder

Summary: The basement of Hotel Cortez was the dumping site of corpses. There should be a pile of bodies welcoming Sally’s sight, only to find it empty.

Another day, another body was dumped in the secret basement of the Cortez. Normally, Liz and Iris would be the ones to toss the dead people in the dark, mostly victims of the bloodthirsty residents of the hotel; but Sally had gone bored of ripping mattresses apart and keeping her victim inside. There was one time, after chucking a body, the frizzy-haired woman mounted herself in the little space and slipped her body downwards, like a kid in the playground slides.

Instead of little kids cheering for her when she’d gone down, it would be silence and a pile of corpses that would welcome her. The room reeks of rotten bodies and cigarette smoke, as Sally would often find solace in this rather twisted paradise. It was ironic that she would seek the company of dead people than the alive ones. The living ones would only leave her, bring her sadness more than she already feels, but the dead won’t leave her alone. As if they can.

Sally had gone back to the room through the vent again to come back for her latest victim who she hadn’t killed yet but decided to throw amongst the dead for the satisfaction of seeing the man’s remaining resolve crumble down with the sight of his company.

To her absolute surprise, he wasn’t there. Nor the rest of the bodies.

She frantically search the hallways, went back to her room to see if the man had gone there, only to find it empty. Then she rode the elevator, hoping to see him in the bar or at the lobby. He couldn’t have escaped that quickly, can he?

She found no one, save for Liz at the bar and Iris at the reception. Sally had asked both if they saw them. They didn’t.

She sat at the stool at the bar, her head resting on her hand. Liz gave her the usual and a cigarette stick. Sally had started rambling about how she found the basement empty and how she fucked up by not killing the man.

Liz only half-listened to the woman but she had an idea of where they had gone. Of who collected the bodies, but she didn’t speak.

Finishing her drink, the ghost went back to her room and plopped down the bed. She didn’t think that she would feel exhaustion even she’s dead.

Five minutes into slipping out of her headspace, she was startled by the scream coming from the vents. Certain that it was her victim, she scurried to the source of the voice.

Sally was momentarily blinded when she arrived in the room. What the hell? This place was as dark as the basement save for the neon signages on the walls but now the curtains were fully opened and the sunlight completely illuminates the room. Once she regained her sight she saw the corpses in different positions, and someone in the middle of the room… painting?

She didn’t reveal her presence yet, observing the way the stranger holds the paintbrush and waves her hand like a conductor in a symphony. She stood there for a while, stuck in a trance. The ghost had forgotten why she went there in the first place until her victim cried again. He was weak, limp body trying to crawl out of the room.

She watched as the painter huffed and sat to match their eye line. “Can you please go back to your spot? You’re dying, right? Why don’t you sit back there and wait peacefully for your death?”

He didn’t pay attention to her and continued to crawl, but stopped when he caught sight of Sally. Another sob escapes from his mouth, a cry of hopelessness. There was no way he would get out of the Cortez alive.

A smug grin was plastered on Sally's face as she feels the gratification pooling in the depths of her. No, the look on the man’s face right now was so much better than she imagined.

“Okay sweetheart, time’s up-” The woman stood up and turned, and was startled by Sally’s presence. Once she regained her composure, she reverted her attention to the man on the floor. She flipped the man’s body with ease so he was facing her.

“Consider this your lucky day, sweetheart,” she whispered with a honeyed voice, a finger trailing the man’s cheek. “You’re my 100th kill.”

She then slit the man’s throat by the sharp edge of her gloves, like the one the Countess uses. The woman had collected some blood, but instead of drinking it, she placed it in a small jar.

“I don’t consume blood. I mix them with my paint, in case you’re wondering,” she mused, the words directed to Sally.

Once she was done, she placed the materials back on her table and took off the gloves. She straightened out her dress and approached Sally, a hand outstretched.

“Hope you enjoyed the show. What’s your name?”

“Sally,” the ghost answered, eyes glassy and curious as to who this woman was. She’d never seen her before.

“Sally. I’m Y/N. Let me buy you a drink.”

You went to the bar and hugged Liz, you haven’t seen the woman for a while. Well, you haven’t let yourself be seen for a while, rather enjoying the isolation. Liz gave you and Sally a drink and excused herself.

“You’re not like them? That only means you’re a ghost too.”

“Yes, well, my sister tried to infect me but I refused. It would be hypocritical of me to say this but I’m not really fond of killing people,” you said as you stood up and went behind the bar to search for that can of beer you missed. “That’s why I just take your trash.”

Sally only chuckled about how your eyes sparked otherwise when you killed the man earlier. “Why are you here?”

“You mean how did I die?”

Sally lit your cigarette for you, and you took a puff before continuing. “James.”

Her eyebrows raised, stupefied. She didn’t speak so you let on, “I knew something that I shouldn’t have and if I relayed that information to the Countess she would leave, well, kill him. So he killed me first.”

You’d accounted how you didn’t reveal yourself at first, still overwhelmed that you were trapped in the place as the same man who killed you. When you heard that James was dead too, that’s when you showed up.

The information that you would tell your sister, how James had Valentino and his wife locked away in the same place, forbidding them to meet with the Countess and running away was in the back of your mind now, letting her find out for herself. She couldn’t possibly harm James after all. Her hatred towards him will only grow.

Babysitting your nephew Bartholomew, and sometimes the other kids were how you let time pass. Your first kill was a man who was lurking the hallways he shouldn’t be in. It was exhilarating, watching him die. The look on their faces when they realize there’s nowhere to go, that they were about to take their last breath. It’s making you feel things but limited yourself from harming just anyone. You’d rather let the bloodthirsty and other ghosts do the dirty work for you. Though sometimes you miss the tingle killing people gives you so you do it yourself, and that’s why even though you were here for a long time now, you consider a hundred a small number compared to the killings of the older residents of the Cortez made.

Sally held up her glass and clinked it with yours. “Not all can appreciate this lovely darkness. Here’s to your 100th kill.”

“Here’s to my new friend,” shooting her a wink.

“Cheers.”

“So you going back to your cave now?” your newfound friend asked, lighting another cigarette. There was a hint of sadness in her raspy voice. She was hoping you wouldn’t hide again.

“No. I found something more interesting now,” you downed the last of your drink, leaning your arms against the counter to inch closer to Sally.

Your noses were touching, and you ghost your lips against hers. “Bring another unlucky human to your room tomorrow night. I want to watch how you kill them.”

Pulling away before Sally captures your lips, you leaned towards her ear and breathed, “It’s a date.”

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #ahs hotel #american horror story #sally mckenna #hypodermic sally #hypodermic sally x reader #sally mckenna x reader #the countess #james patrick march

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echoe-l · 3 years

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Am I the only one who found the search of fanfiction on Tumblr terribly complicated??!

I mean, you search with a tag but half of the fanfiction on the subject does not appear in the results! I really think there's a HEAVY shadowban on Tumblr 🙁! Anyway! If you're an author or anything, please can you tag me into your carmelengo fanfiction (picture above) I only could find a few of stories about Angels and Demons character Patrick McKenna, which is a shame :(

#ewan mcgregor #ewanfuckinmcgregor #fanfiction #ewan mcgregor imagine #camerlengo #patrick mckenna #angels and demons

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years

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possibly a 27. with Patrick Mckenna? i’ve been reading your writing prompts all night and let me say *chefs kiss*

27. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.

Also thank you! I’m glad you like them ❤️

Patrick was always stressed out about something. He tried to pretend that he was at peace but it was a pretty usual occurrence that he wasn’t. Which is how you knew that whatever papers he was looking at now stressed him out. You didn’t even know what they were about but you could make an educated guess.

You leaned against the side of the desk, looking down at him. He looked up at you and away from the papers.

“Can I help you?” he asked innocently. You shrugged, sliding closer to him so that you were leaning against his chair and the desk as well.

“Whatcha doin?” You and Patrick had to stay a secret. You could never really think about seeing him at the church or in public but at his home it was okay which is where you were now.

“Looking over some papers.”

“What are they about?” you asked sneakily, sliding onto his lap. He couldn’t help but smile gently and he contemplated telling you but decided he should, for comedic reasons.

“The Chasity of a nun. Signing off on some things,” he said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Good for her.” You kissed him, you couldn’t help it and he kissed you back happily. You squirmed in his lap and he cupped the back of your head.

“I have to do this,” he said sheepishly. You nodded but kissed him again anyway.

“Course. I wouldn’t want to interrupt.”

He kissed you anyway.

#patrick mckenna x reader #patrick mckenna imagines #ewan mcgregor x reader

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daincrediblegg · 2 years

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Me, watching Angels and Demons for the second time in a single year: …

Mind: hehe father paul good cop father patrick bad cop threesome

Me: … I know you’re right but can I fucking rest my weary head for FIVE MINUTES

#paul handles the praise patrick handles the degredation I am not fucking right in the head #also I would kneel for mckenna if he had those vampire eyes like jeeeeSUS #can you imagine? like wake up babe new gift from the divine just dropped #also he’s got the cassock which is really just… something so personal #it looks so silky like yeah I would worship that which he would command me to do #hes so bad this is so bad #nobody @ me for this I’m not doing a goddamn thing about it

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justifyingstark · 5 years

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CHAPTER 2: DEVIL'S NIGHT & HISTORY?

Elara's Pov

I knock on the door and it was opened by James, itself.

"Ah! Elara Boleyn! Come in, m'lady." James said as he step aside to let me in.

I walk in and to be first greeted by Aileen. "Hey! It's the witch. How are ya?"

I laughed. "I'm good, Aileen." I nodded in acknowledgement to Jeffrey being pulled over to the dining table by Richard.

"Come sit, Elara. Sit beside our very Ten Commandments Killer." Richard pulled out a seat for me before taking a seat across me.

"So how are you keeping up, John?" I asked as Miss Evers place my food infront of me.

John smirked before letting out a sigh. "It felt weird, you know? One day, you're investigating a killer crime and the next day, you found out thay you are actually investigating your own crime."

"Well, atleast it's good to have you back. All of us have been waiting for years for you to remember." I replied as I pat his back.

"What are we waiting for, James? Let's get this dinner started!" John Gacy shouted.

The dinner went by really fast. It's the usual tradition. We toast, Aileen and Richard wilding out by the radio. Casual talks between James and I. The dinner end exactly at three in the morning, the devil's hour, exactly on the dot after we finished our murder "ritual".

I bid goodbye to all of them before heading back to my room. I sniff in the strong cologne that is stick onto Donovan's coat. I really like his cologne. Donovan and I go way back. Way back before he was turned by The Countess. I rarely talk to Elizabeth but if I do see her, I'll still make small talks.

I didn't bother to change into my night gown and fell asleep with my dress on and Donovan's coat that is protecting me from the cold.

THE NEXT DAY

I woke up to someone standing and staring at me.

"What the fuck? Donovan!" I shouted and threw a pillow at him.

"Woah, relax Elara. I just came here." Donovan said while laughing.

"You could've waken me up then?!"

"I just reach! Okay, you know what? Just get ready and meet me at the bar."

Donovan disappear before appearing again as I was about to unzip my dress.

"Donovan, I swear I'm going to hex you!" I threw another pillow at him.

He actually caught it and threw it back at me. "You got to stop with the pillows, Elara. I came to say that you can keep my coat. You look cute in it."

Donovan winked before walking out the door.

"The things this boy does to me." I muttered.

I took a bath because knowing Donovan, he'll take a longer time to reach at the bar. I took a much more longer time to dry my hair and wear my outfit. As I walk towards the bar, Sally and Iris were engaged in a serious conversation.

"Hey, ghostbusters! What are you teo conversing about till my presence is unknown?" I pull a chair to join Sally and Iris.

"Elara! I miss you so much!" Sally cried.

"Oh, McKenna. Don't cry." I hug her.

Sally wiped her tears before shouting thanks to Iris.

"So what's that about?" I asked as I changed my seat to Sally's seat.

"I introduced her to the world of social medias where she doesn't always have to feel lonely." Iris took a sip of her water.

"Well, atleast that will make her stop trying to kill you after what you did to her." I giggled.

"Oh, I fucking hope so."

I sighed before looking around for Donovan.

"Waiting for Donovan?" Iris asked.

I nodded. "He told me to meet him at the bar."

"You know, I'm glad that you came back. Ever since, his heart get broken by that bitch, he never talks to me. But until the night that you've arrived, he's been dressing up and gassing himself while asking me for opinions on which coat to wear."

"Donny will always be Donny. I know what happened so that's why I'm staying at the hotel for a longer period of time. I really want to catch up with everyone since I rarely visit these past months."

Iris and I continued to talk about the hotel, what have been happening. But mostly, it's about Donovan. I immediately sense a strong whiff of cologne before I turned around.

"You know, Donovan. I never failed to catch the sense of your cologne whenever you're near." I said.

"Am I special, then?" Donovan poked my cheek.

"Eh, sure." I shrugged.

Iris stood up and said,"I'll leave you two, alone. Have fun at whatever you shenanigans are doing."

"So what did you talk about with Iris?" Donovan asked as he sat down.

"Just the usual. Of course, she mention how excited you are to see me." I wiggled my eyebrows as I nudged his shoulder.

"Your momma and I are a developing a strong bond over your embarrassing stories, Donny." I continued.

Donovan rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up."

••••

click HERE for chapter 3.

#ahs #american horror story #fanfic #imagines #donovan #john lowe #sally mckenna #james patrick march #rudolph valentino #tristan duffy #finn wittrock #sarah paulson #evan petters #hotel cortez #elizabeth johnson #lady gaga #the countess

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mossybank · 3 years

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— 𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

♔ × smut

taglist form

How the Sarahs React

The Sarahs with a ticklish Reader (fem!reader)

Characters: Lana Winters, Sally Mckenna, Wilhemina Venable, Bette and Dot Tattler

The Sarah’s favourite activities to do with the Reader (GN!Reader)

Characters: Bette and Dot Tattler, Sally Mckenna, Lana Winters, Mildred Ratched

The Sarah's react to reader breaking up with them (GN!Reader)

Characters: Sally McKenna, Cordelia Goode, Audrey Tindall

How the Evans React

The Evan's Wedding Rings (GN!Reader) — part one

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer (part one)

How the Evans react when Reader is on their period (GN!Reader)

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, (franken)Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson

The Evan's kinks (GN!Reader)

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, (pre-death) Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Malcolm Gallant, Austin Sommers

Murder House

Headcanons

Getting High With Tate Langdon (GN!Reader)

Oneshots

Do You Believe in Love? (Tate Langdon x GN!Reader)

Asylum

Headcanons

Nicknames with Kit Walker (GN!Reader)

Adopting a dog with Kit Walker (GN!Reader)

Being Kit Walker's Husband (Male!Reader)

Trick O' Treating with Kit Walker (GN!Reader)

Having a child with Lana Winters (Fem!Reader)

Baking with Lana Winters (GN!Reader)

Oneshots

Baby Steps (Kit Walker x Pregnant!Fem!Reader)

Monachopis (Kit Walker x Anxious!GN!Reader)

Forbidden Fruit (Kit Walker x Nun!Fem!Reader) ♔

Imagine Falling asleep with Kit Walker (GN!Reader)

Coven

Headcanons

Dating Misty Day (GN!Reader)

Oneshots

Freakshow

Headcanons

Jimmy Darling and a S/O with stretch marks (GN!Reader)

Being punished by Jimmy Darling (Male!Reader) ♔

Oneshots

Keeping in Time (Jimmy Darling x Fem!Reader) ♔

Hotel

Headcanons

Being The Countesses Sugar Baby (GN!Reader)

The Countess and JPM fighting over you (GN!Reader)

Oneshots

James braiding his S/O’s hair (JPM x Black!GN!Reader)

Domming JPM (JPM x Male!Reader) ♔

Need You Here (Sally Mckenna x Fem!Reader) ♔

Roanoke

Headcanons

Oneshots

Cult

Headcanons

Comforting Ally Mayfair-Richards (GN!Reader)

Being Marked Up By Kai Anderson (GN!Reader) ♔

Oneshots

Powerhouse (Kai Anderson x GN!Reader) ♔

Apocalypse

Headcanons

Gallant NSFW headcanons (Male!Reader) ♔

Michael Langdon when Reader is on their period (GN!Reader)

Oneshots

69/100 (Virgin!Jeff Pfister x Cheerleader!Fem!Reader) ♔

1984

Headcanons

Brooke Thompson first time with a woman (Fem!Reader) ♔

Oneshots

Double Feature

Headcanons

Love Languages with Austin Sommers (GN!Reader)

Oneshots

Desert (Austin Sommers x Male!Reader) ♔

#new masterlist yay #ahs #american horror story #x reader

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parvulous-writings · 3 years

Text

Broken Vows // Patrick McKenna x Reader

Request: Hi hi! I absolutely love your writing and was wondering if I could make a request! Would it be possible to request #14 from the angst prompt list with Camerlengo Patrick McKenna with a slightly fluffy ending?

Requested by: anon

Summary: Prompt requested: 14. “But... I thought you loved me?”

Warnings: N/A, I believe

Words: 1.4K

Notes: I had to use (Y/N) I’m sorry, I tried to avoid it, but I just think he’d be saying the name of his significant other rather than a term of endearment for most of this. My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

not my gif

You had gone to see Patrick in his office- it was after hours in the Vatican so to speak, and you had been eager to see him all day, in all honesty. You trotted up to his office- knocking gently against the lacquered door so not as to too badly disrupt his line of thought should he be sifting through piles of paperwork as he often did at this time. You carefully push the door open, and there he was; head bent over the desk, reading some paper that you couldn’t see. His hair- normally so fixed and pristine- was partially out of place, falling just over his forehead. His brow was creased in thought and concentration, even as you closed the door behind you he didn’t raise his head to greet you. “Patrick,” You greet with a smile, but this does not elicit a response from him. You frown slightly, but figured that perhaps he hadn’t heard you. “Pat?” You repeat- again no response. “Father McKenna?” You asked, and this time he did actually look up. “Ah, (Y/N)..” He gets up from his chair, and gestures for you to take a seat in front of him, being incredibly formal about your whole interaction. You were no stranger to his formalities whilst in the Vatican, however, this seemed over the top, even for him. “Please, take a seat. I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” You do as he asks, and he mirrors your action. You stare at him, almost blankly for a moment. This was not what you had expected- normally after a long day, even in the building of the Vatican, he would give you some sort of affection of comfort; usually a kiss on the cheek. Your leg starts to bounce anxiously as you wait for him to start speaking again, which he doesn’t. He seems to have gone into a daze.

You clear your throat quietly, “Patr- Father McKenna?” You question, deciding to keep up this formal air in the conversation, Patrick would have broken it by now if he hadn’t thought it was necessary. He shakes his head, shaking away the thoughts that were starting to cloud his mind. “My apologies. Getting straight to business; I-I feel no need to dance around the subject. I have had reports of the pair of us being seen displaying affection towards one another.” That explained the overly-formal format of the conversation. Patrick was always very concerned about his public presentation, and his reputation amongst the Cardinals. “Did they say where?” You asked him, curiously. It did make some amount of difference, it was a very serious problem if it was within the walls of Vatican city, but outside, it wasn’t as much of a problem. “It matters not.” Patrick replied curtly, “I know you understand the seriousness of this situation, I do believe I’ve made it very explicit before, this jeopordises my position in the church, and puts a stain on my reputation. They are aware that I’ve broken my vows, which is no small thing I’m sure you’re aware.” You let him speak, allowing to get all of this off of his chest. You could tell by his voice and the way he moved his hands that he had been stressing out about this.

You carefully move your chair closer to his desk, trying not to scrape it across the floor. “Well, you father broke some of his vows, did he not?” You point out to him, making Patrick bristle somewhat. “My father was the Pope and held immense respect and power, of which I have neither.” He said sharply. You heart sank slightly, he hadn’t used that kind of tone with you before, even in small arguments you’ve had in the past. This wasn’t some petty spat, this was something more serious than you had originally realised. “I’m afraid I am not sure whether we can continue this...Affectionate relationship that we have.” He announced to you, and your heart felt as heavy as a stone. “Patrick...” You start to protest, but he shakes his head to try an silence you. You continue to speak regardless of this. “But.. I thought you loved me?”

At these words, Patrick seems to pause, to hesitate. He clears his throat and recomposes himself. “I did.” He pauses, “I-! do. But I have broken my vows to the church, and that is unacceptable.” As he keeps speaking, you feel the conflict of sorrow and rage begin to bubble up in your chest, but you managed to keep it contained for now. “So that is the decision I have come to.” “You didn’t think that perhaps we should discuss it first? Together? As a couple?” You ask, sharply. “That maybe I would have liked to have been aware of what was being said, of what you were thinking?” You push yourself to your feet, your annoyance, your anger, very clear on your expression. Patrick moves towards his window so that he doesn’t have to look at your face. He knew that that would break him, the ways and virtues he had been taught that he had already broken for you.

“Please, compose yourself, I have thought-” “No, I will not compose myself, Patrick!” You retort. “You have just stood here and told me that you no longer wish to be in a relationship with me, simply because figures in authority that never bothered you beforehand!” You exclaim. “That is because I did not think it through, as I should have. I acted in passion, and in lust.” The man your heart still longed for replied, still not turning to face you.That was one of the things that hurt more than his words, his refusal to look at you. Silence fell over the both of you; the only sound in the room was the gentle breeze that brushed against the curtains McKenna stood next to.

After a minute more of silence you get to your feet. “Well, if this is what you want, I’ll leave.” You tell him, your voice laced with the hurt and dejection that seemed to have latched itself to your very bones now. As you left the room, closing the door behind you, that’s when it really hit Patrick. What he had said, they way they had affected you. The way he had pushed you away, all because of his reputation in the Vatican. He hesitated a moment, before striding to the door to pursue you. “(Y/N)!” He called out for you, but you did not turn to face him, just like his hadn’t for you. “(Y/N), wait! Please!” He started to catch up with you rather quickly, his footsteps coming up quickly from behind. You still don’t turn to lay your eyes on him though, even as he walked beside you. “(Y/N), beloved, please.... I-I wasn’t thinking properly.” He hastily explains to you, still walking by your side as he practically begged from some acknowledgement from you, his higher power, his God in a sense. “I...” He tried to compose himself, “Please, give me another chance, my dear, this once... This time I will disregard what they say of us... I will even leave the Vatican, if you so desire it, just, d-don’t leave me, please.”

His words, his vow, cause you to slowly draw to a stop. “What?” You asked him, rather astounded. He looked at you earnestly, gently biting his bottom lip in anxiety. “Do you mean that...?” You asked, slowly, almost unsure. He nodded quickly. “Yes, I do.” Patrick replied, taking one of your hands in both of his own, “I mean it as much as I did my vows... But this is one I shall not break..” He promises you. “Just give me one last chance to make it up to you... Tonight, even. We can do it tonight.” He speaks quickly, hardly even breathing. “Whatever you want.. Dinner and a movie? How does that sound?” You start to smile, his sweetness and eagerness to please you again rekindling your fondness for him like a flame in dry grass. You nod slowly. “Yeah... That sounds good to me...” You whisper to him, and he sighs gently in relief as you press a kiss to his cheek. “Good... Good, I’m glad..” He chuckles softly, looking down at your hands briefly, before his eyes move back to yours. “Let me go and tidy up my office.... Then we can go home.” The look in his eyes tells you he means it, and you nod. “Do you want me to come with you, or would you rather I-” “Come with me, Beloved... Please?” You chuckled at the puppy eyes he starts to give you, and nod. Without another word, he lead you off down the hall, and thus began your evening with Father Patrick McKenna.

#camerlengo patrick mckenna #patrick mckenna #patrick mckenna x reader #patrick mckenna imagine #angst oneshot #fluffy ending #Ewan McGregor #ewan mcgregor x reader

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polishksiezniczka · 3 years

Text

Monsignor | Camerlengo Patrick McKenna x Reader

You meet il camerlengo for the first time at Mass, and he soon becomes captivated by you.

My first full-length oneshot! Sort of a slow burn but with some delicious fluff at the end. Please let me know if you have any requests or ideas for future works! 1.8k words

You had recently moved to Rome, your next diplomatic assignment being the US Embassy to the Holy See. The new challenges of your position were taxing, but you were proud of the work you did for your fellow citizens.

Being the good Catholic you were, you went to Mass as often as you could. And when in Rome—which boasted more than 900 churches—it was your goal to visit as many as you could. Although you had been living in the city for only a week or two, you had visited several parishes closer to your apartment to see if one appealed to you.

Today you decided to go to St. Peter’s Basilica for early morning service, hoping the crowds wouldn’t be as large. Aware of the Vatican’s strict dress code, you decided on a lovely vintage chiffon dress you had recently scored at a chic consignment shop. Its light coral color brought out the Y/E/C hues in your eyes, and it elegantly graced your figure while still leaving much up to the imagination. You paired it with sensible pumps and a loose white cardigan. You were feeling springlike today, it being a warm Sunday in April.

While you had visited the Vatican several times already on official diplomatic visits, you hadn’t yet as one of the faithful. As you silently made your way to the chapel, you marveled at the beautiful art surrounding you—the work of masters.

You chose to sit near the center aisle a few rows from the altar. The chapel quickly began to fill up; in a matter of minutes, you were surrounded by a trio of devout Italian nonne, clad in all-black, and a gaggle of starry-eyed Korean tourists.

As the processional music began, you felt your body ease into a state of peace. The ancient rituals of the Church always soothed you; they had not changed since you were a child and so provided a sense of comfort amidst an unpredictable world. You sang along, losing yourself in the beautiful melody.

When the hymnal ended, you lifted your gaze from your songbook to the altar. Your heart stopped as your eyes fell upon him—quite possibly the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.

He was young, no more than 40 years of age. His hair was a rich auburn color, swept neatly into a well-groomed combover; you couldn’t help but admire how perfectly it framed his handsome face. His eyes, a lovely shade of blue, were mesmerizing. They reminded you of cerulean pools, clear and bright. His brows were furrowed in concentration, making him appear serious. His jawline was set in a strong, dignified way, sloping attractively down to his chin; there you could just make out a slight cleft. For all you knew, he was one of the marble statues carved by the same masters who had designed the basilica you were standing in.

Who was this man? That’s Father to you! you scolded yourself. You were in Church. And not just any Church—the Church! You tried to suppress your nascent infatuation, but you quickly succumbed to it, your eyes selfishly dragging down the rest of the priest’s body. He wore a white surplice over his black robes, highlighting the alluring musculature of his shoulders. His collar was a burst of white at the base of the column of his throat. His hands were clasped together in prayer in front of his chest, and you watched his eyes squeeze in concentration as he prayed along silently with the cardinal who stood beside him. His whole demeanor radiated safety, comfort, and protection.

You couldn’t help but stare, the chants of the prayer fading into the background. You couldn’t even look away. Even when he turned to look at you. You observed his eyes widening ever so slightly, his brow arching in curiosity. Regrettably, he seemed to catch himself after a few seconds, quickly averting his eyes away from you and back to his superior. The moment was so brief, you seriously doubted its authenticity. But there he was.

Mass passed by in a haze, your attempts at concentration all but shot. You tried to restrain yourself, but somehow your gaze always settled on him. It wasn’t until the pews ahead of you began to slowly shuffle toward for Communion that you momentarily became sensible again. As you stood and made your way toward the altar, your hands began to perspire. You ran through the expected response over and over again, worried you might choke on your own heart, which had invariably lodged itself in your throat.

Just as you had expected, he was even more beautiful up close. Like an angel. You were so taken by his handsomeness, his kind smile, his spellbinding eyes that you felt your chest tighten. Your eyes suddenly found the marble floor inexplicably fascinating.

He held up the thin wafer. “Il corpo di Cristo.”

You peered up at him from beneath your lashes and met his kind cerulean eyes again. They beamed down at you, joy and curiosity radiating from them. You quickly lost your ability to speak, momentarily dumbstruck. He must have sensed this, as a smile quirked the corner of his lips; you thought you were imagining things when the faintest chuckle reached your ears. If only you knew what he was thinking!

“Amen,” you whispered hurriedly, accepting the wafer in your trembling hands. You bowed to him and quickly stepped aside to genuflect before the altar. As you made your way to back to your pew, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance over your shoulder at him. As you expected, he was dutifully administering communion to the remaining parishioners. You sighed softly as you retook your place and knelt down.

Of course that’s what he’s doing! you scolded yourself. For the love of God, he’s a priest—why would he have feelings for you? Silly, foolish girl.

Your thoughts consumed you for the rest of Mass, even during the last processional hymnal. If only you had noticed the young priest’s longing glance at you as he walked past.

After the processional ended, you prepared to leave, but your shame got the best of you. As a penance you knelt and said five Hail Mary’s to atone for your distraction.

As you left your pew, you noticed how quiet the church had become. A few people remained, some finishing their prayers, others snapping pictures of the ornate altar. As you walked to the back of the chapel, you observed a small group of parishioners clustered near the back, no doubt socializing among themselves. You had planned to walk around them, but the group suddenly parted, putting you directly on course for him. The priest who had awoken in you a reaction so powerful, so complete, you couldn’t even think clearly.

The two parishioners he was speaking with said their farewells; then, he turned and noticed you. As your eyes met for the third time that morning, his face broke into a radiant smile. You approached him slowly, a blush creeping up your cheeks. You did your best to hold his gaze and maintain an air of confidence after your embarrassing conduct during the liturgy of the Eucharist. You stopped just short of a foot away from him, subconsciously holding your breath.

“Buongiorno, signorina,” he said. His voice was so velvety, so delightful, it practically overwhelmed your senses. Being so close allowed you to better study his chin’s adorable cleft, making you swoon. “Non ti ho mai visto prima a San Pietro. Stai visitando la nostra bellissima basilica mentre sei in vacanza?” His presence was oh so alluring—you couldn’t help but relax as air suddenly filled your lungs.

“Buongiorno, monsignor,” you replied carefully. “ No, ma sono nuovo a Roma. Vedi, mi sono trasferito qui due settimane fa. Lavoro per l'ambasciata degli Stati Uniti.”

He smiled knowingly, his eyes alight with intrigue. “So, you are an American?” The soft, gentle lilt of his accent sent a shiver up your spine. How was it possible that this man’s normal pleasantries were enough to provoke such a response in you?

“Yes, I am.”

“In that case, may I be the first to welcome you to Vatican City.” He bowed his head slightly in deference to you. “I am Father Patrick McKenna, il camerlengo to his Holiness. May I ask your name?”

“Y/F/N, Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The camerlengo’s smile widened, and you momentarily glimpsed his dazzling white teeth. “Y/N…” he repeated thoughtfully. You cherished the way your name rolled off his tongue. “How lovely. Named after Saint Y/N if I am not mistaken?”

“Yes, Father,” you shyly responded. “I was raised in a very devout home.” You quickly averted your gaze to the floor, worrying that you had revealed too much about yourself. You certainly weren’t prepared for the camerlengo’s next remark:

“I…I hope to see you next weekend.” He spoke softly, tenderly.

Your eyes shot up to his face, eagerly finding his own. The camerlengo’s eyebrows were raised expectantly; a gentle smile graced his handsome features.

“Of course, Father. It was such a lovely Mass.” You tried to convey as much sincerity as you could with your voice.

He took your hand in his and cradled it, making your heart flutter even more rapidly in your chest. “I’m glad you thought so. In the meantime, do not make yourself a stranger.” For a moment, his eyes were expectant, and he nodded solemnly—as if holding you to a serious pledge—but his fervent expression quickly melted back into one of compassion again. “You are welcome anytime.”

Your cheeks took on a lovely pink color at his words as you beamed at him.“Grazie, Padre.” Reluctantly you added, “I believe I should be going now...” Your eyes flashed over your shoulder, subtly indicating a group of nonne eager to speak with him. “I would not want to keep you all to myself.” You shyly lifted your gaze to the camerlengo again.

He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with mirth at your remark. “May God bless you, Miss Y/L/N. Arrivederci.” As he said this, he traced the sign of the cross on your forehead, the scent of him filling your nostrils briefly. He smelled clean and masculine with a delightful hint of spiciness, which you immediately recognized to be frankincense. You savored the warmth of his skin on yours.

“Addio, monsignor,” you whispered breathlessly.

You found the courage to look into the camerlengo's spellbinding eyes once more before you turned to leave. As you exited the sacred space, you smiled to yourself, his words reverberating within you: do not be a stranger.

"Never, Father," you whispered. ¤

Translations

nonne = "grandmothers"

Il corpo di Cristo = "the body of Christ"

Non ti ho mai visto prima a San Pietro. Stai visitando la nostra bella chiesa durante le vacanze? = "I haven’t seen you before at St. Peter’s. Are you visiting our beautiful basilica while on holiday?"

No, ma sono nuovo a Roma. Vedi, mi sono appena trasferito qui due settimane fa. Lavoro con l'ambasciata degli Stati Uniti. = "No, but I am new to Rome. You see, I recently moved here a few weeks ago. I work for the US Embassy."

@seraferna @lemairepstuff

#camerlengo patrick mckenna #patrick mckenna x reader #ewan mcgregor #angels and demons #dan brown #forgive me father for i have sinned #hot priest #ewanfuckinmcgregor #fluff oneshot

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