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pschrdr · 4 days

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THE BEST I'VE EVER READ IN A WHILE

Forgive me father, for I have sinned

Summary: You were never the religious type, scrap that, you weren't a religious type at all. Whenever you'd step into a church you would be afraid to burst into flames. What happens when you move towards of an island that turns out to be extremely religious.

Warning: I don't even know anymore. But definitely smut. And poorly written religious stuff. Swearing. This is a long boii.

Pairing: Father Paul Hill x reader

You had never been the religious type. Sure you had been to church once or twice in your lifetime. During Christmas evening just to witness the ceremony. Or that other time your christian friend pulled you along and you felt totally out of place. People moving their hands up in the air as if the lord himself would reach out and touched them. You had been very uncomfortable. Yet also very supportive of your friend. They had tried to get you along. Yet you just did not feel a connection. Besides you didn't think you'd get along with the people in the church anyways. You were a very openminded person, bisexual, had several tattoos, a couple of piercings, you just felt like you wouldn't fit in. That was your perspective of faith. Whether that was right or wrong, you never felt the need to explore it.

You weren't sure why you ended up moving towards a small island, FILLED with religious people. You weren't sure how you had missed that part in the brochure. However the pamphlet had mentioned plenty of positive situations. A house near the sea. Low rent. Plenty of job opportunities. A place where you'll find yourself again. (and God apparently). You had tried to banish religion out of your life, however it seemed the Lord had other plans, following you everywhere. And now, you had moved to a secluded Island where the main theme was Jesus fucking Christ.

Papers had been signed, people had been met and now you were stuck here for at least a couple of years. That damn mayor.

You had managed to settle in pretty quick. Not bringing a lot of personal belongings to the island. You had introduced yourself, looked around for work and within weeks you weren't the new shiny thing of the island. Now you were the Godless heathen. Fortunately most people still would treat you with respect. Except for that one religious bitch. Fucking Beverly made it well known that she was repulsed by you. How dare you not go to church and look the way you did. Apparently having a couple of tattoos and more than two earrings, was work of the devil. And not showing up to Church whenever there was a meeting, or mass, apparently you were send by the devil, here to test the faith of the villagers.

Fortunately not everyone was like her. And while you did not feel the need to get involved with the church, you did help out whenever help was needed. That had nothing the do with father Paul. Or was he a priest? Either way, the handsome man with his black shirt and white plastic collar. If he'd corner you somewhere in the church and ask you to name a few items, you'd fail miserably. Oh god you felt out of place. Yet you made the best of it. Talked to the mayor about opening your own little coffeeshop. There were plenty of possibilities. Moving to this island was mainly because you were sick of the life you were living on the "mainland". Living from paycheck to paycheck, not fulfilling the purpose you so desperately searched in life. Moving here, to "the crockpot", or Crockett Island as it was originally named, did really seem like a new chapter.

And while you weren't religious at all. You did feel a strong pull towards the church. Or maybe that pull had to do with Paul. Father Paul. There was something about that man that made you want to get to your knees and.. pray. Yes pray.. Definitely pray. So whenever you had plans concerning the island, you'd discuss them with him. The little coffeeshop, he loved it. Everyone loved it. You had mentioned wanting to provide the church with some coffee, if he needed it. You could cater there if they ever needed some food or something to drink. Honestly you were going out of your way. But it felt good to do something. Make the people see you different from the picture that Beverly had painted of you. Damn her.

Paul had invited you multiple times. Just to see him speak, see whether the Lord would speak to her as well. You had politely declined, multiple times. Not wanting to disappoint him. Because you were certain that there was nothing. That did not stop you from visiting the church grounds.

The little shop you had going on, was quite a success. It was where you had managed to befriend Erin. Where people would come to grab a coffee, sit down and relax or just enjoy it on their way home. Paul, like he insisted you'd call him, came by quite frequently. To make smalltalk, or answer some of the questions you somehow had. This was the only place you'd be able to properly talk with him, without Bev interfering and stealing him away.

The sheriff was one of your regulars. Coming in every morning to get some coffee because he desperately needed coffee. Also, since you were one of the few that did not go to church, he was more comfortable around of you. He had warned you about a storm coming in soon. Everyone would stay together in the church just to keep safe. When you asked Paul about it later that day he confirmed, a smile on his face as he admitted that the sheriff had beaten him to brining it up. Apparently storms could quite heavy and to be certain that nobody would get harmed, everyone would stay at the church. "Seems like my prayers have been answered and I'll finally have you in my church", he joked, causing you to blush. It was an ongoing thing the two of you had. There was a certain something over the priest that made his innocence appearance not as innocent. The way his eyes would darken ever so slightly when he looked at you. The way his lips would curl up just a bit when he managed to make you blush with one of his comments. There was no denying that the Father had haunted your dreams. That his name was on your lips when you would come undone. Damn him. Damn his complexion, his status, the way you wanted to do his every bidding.

"Seems like I'll have to do some praying then if I want to enter, wouldn't want to burst into flames", you joked. Paul looked you over, as if he were to judge whether you were pure enough to enter. "You're always welcome to come pray with me, just to make sure", knowing your answer he flashes you a smile and places his hand on your shoulder. "Don't be late, we're all gathering in a few hours", the pink color on your cheeks darkening. Only by him touching your shoulder.

The next few hours you tried to secure everything in your little shop. Just to make sure the damage wouldn't be too much. After that you showered, packed you bag with some necessities and headed towards of the church. Father Paul's words echoed in your head as you walked towards of the holy ground, "I'll finally have you in my church", as if he had any say in the weather. You'd probably not sleep at all. The only good thing about this situation was that maybe you'd have some more time with him.. Yet you doubted it now that Bev and the other people of the island were around.

"(Y/N)", someone called your name, and by the way your body shivered, you immediately realized who it was. "Evening Bev", you politely replied, eyebrow arched and ready to verbally attack her if necessary. "I would have expected you to at least have some more respect, finding shelter in the house of the Lord." She gestured towards of you and you figured the ripped pants you were wearing, wasn't appropriate enough to find shelter. God was testing you already. "I did not realize that coming together to shelter from a storm, required me to wear my best Sunday clothes", you mocked, standing in front of the entrance of the church, up close to her now. You weren't a violent person, however this woman managed to make your blood boil. You just wanted to get inside, ignore her, yet she didn't let you pass. "You should be thankful", she insisted. God she really did hate you. "I'll remember it next time", you muttered, not seeing a point in arguing as the wind had picked up already.

"Why don't you just go back to that coffeeshop of yours", she scrunched her nose a little, as if she was disgusted by mentioning it. Oh she was in for it now. You had put your bag down already, stepping closer towards the woman. "There you are (Y/N)", Paul moved to grab your bag, a smile on his face as he guides you inside of the church, leaving no room for Bev to interfere. You'd pay to have a picture of the expression on her face. "No flames yet", he teased as he guided you inside of the building, where more villagers had come together. "The night is still young", you mumbled, looking around to admire the statues, the paintings and the overall vibe this church seemed to hold. Alright, you had to admit it.. maybe you'd be curious to one of his speeches now that you were already inside. Not that you'd admit it now.

Sensing the curiosity in your eyes, Paul chucked, his hand on your back lingering. "Want me to show you around", he had put your bag down on the ground. However the doors were closed rather loudly and the bitch.. I mean, Bev, needed all the attention on her. Explaining how the night would go, where everyone could go to have some sleep. Nobody was allowed to wander around on their own, she specifically looked at you while mentioning that. As if you'd rip pages out of the bible just to spite her. The electricity had already stopped working the moment the wind had picked up, something that apparently was normal. There were candles everywhere, and if the whole town hadn't been here as well, the scene could have been romantic. But then again, he was a priest, and from what you had gathered, the only relationship Paul had was with God. Unfortunately.

The voice of Beverly, calling for her monseigneur made you gag. That woman would not leave her alone and you were contemplating going back out in the storm. It sounded more comfortable than staying here. "I'll be right back", he promised, moving through the crowd. You figured that he would be longer than 'right back', so you wandered around a little. Brining along one of the candles so you could see where you were going. Beverly would be too engaged in Father Paul to keep an eye on you. Strangely enough, now that you were inside of the church, calling him just Paul felt strange. When you glanced around the church you saw most people sitting together. Riley and Erin pretty serious in conversation, the sheriff was answering some questions and there you stood, somewhere in the corner.

From what you could gather, it had started raining already. With a little bit of luck the storm would be gone the next morning.

Not wanting to intrude and look around on your own you decided to find a comfortable place in the church, somewhere more secluded from the rest so you could read, maybe get some shuteye. You had tried to look around for Father Paul, however you couldn't find him within the crowd. Besides it was too dark to properly look around. As time processed, things got a lot more quiet inside of the church, the only noises coming from outside and a few whispers from the people that were still awake. Even Beverly herself had found a spot where she had retreated. Finally some peace and quiet. Not that you were able to focus on the book you had brought. The storm outside and the Father inside occupying your mind, keeping you from concentrating. You looked up from your book again, only to gasp and cover your mouth before muttering something unholy. "Jesus", you whispered, eyebrows furrowed together as you glanced at Father Paul.

He seemed amused. The man had suddenly popped up from thin air. As if he had heard your thoughts about him. Maybe if you'd say his name three times he would appear in your bathroom, something you'd try later.

"Unfortunately the son of God is not here, perhaps I can be of assistance?" he reached a hand out, grabbing yours so he could pull you up. You weren't sure what gotten into him, normally he'd keep a more reserved posture. Yet now that he was inside of his church, like he had phrased it, it seemed like he had gotten more bold. Father Paul pulled you close to him, his breath hot on your skin. You gasped, quickly looking around of you, yet unable to see anything as every candle was blown out and the only source of light was lightening that every now and then lit up the sky. "I can't seem to fall asleep", you confessed, feeling awkward now that you were standing so close to him. You knew that nobody could see you, yet you felt exposed. "What seems to be troubling your mind", so much. So much was troubling your mind. Yet at this moment, having him standing so close to you.. His hand around of your wrist, his other settling on your waist.

You tried to glance up at him, some of his features barely visible. Lightening struck, nearby, causing a quick flash to lighten up the church. If he wouldn't be so tall, his face would have been inches from yours. Lips threatening to touch. The idea alone made you lean forwards a little. Hand on his chest, nose pushed against his neck. You could easily pull it off as being scared. Finding comfort in the priest in front of you. Yet both of you knew this wasn't about being scared. If the two of you would be completely alone right now, he'd have his way with you right on the podium. "Such a shame", he whispered, letting go of your wrist yet keeping his other on your waist. "I would have loved to have you confess all of your sins here, but it seems like we have quite the audience", the game both of you had been playing all this time seemed to become all too real now. This wasn't just a flirty remark anymore. "Guess I will have to get down on my knees an other time", you whispered, lips brushing against his neck. He stiffened, having to contain himself now that he had you so close, yet was unable to do anything about it. Pushing a bit further you moved to stand on your toes, hand clutching his shirt to keep you balanced as you whispered in his ear, "forgive me father, for I have sinned."

He groaned, audible groaned, you weren't sure how hard it was, however you were pushed back on the mattress within an instant. The monseigneur standing over your body. If only you could see his face. You wanted to see how he had reacted to your words, whether those tight jeans did anything to conceal his excitement. You wondered if his cheeks would be pink, or perhaps red, like yours were. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, thighs pressed together for the friction you suddenly desperately needed. God you wanted him badly now. Fuck the people whom were around you, asleep or not. You didn't care whether they could see/hear it all. This was your redemption. Only this way, you'd accept God into your life. Fuck, you'd pray on your knees every night if that would mean for him, your priest, to fuck you to heaven right now. " For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are— ", was he praying? You couldn't hear every word he was loudly whispering, however he was on his knees right next to you. Hands clasped together, why wasn't there any light. You wanted to see him. You weren't sure about worshipping God, yet you'd follow this man, your priest, everywhere.

You tried reaching out to him, one elbow next to you for support while the other grabbed for his shirt. Your fingertips touched something hard, realizing what you had in your hands, you figured it was the white collar. How sinful. Ignoring the prayer coming from his lips, as if he tried to save your soul from all the lustful thoughts that came over you. You were beyond saving. "Please", you whispered, as if you were pleading for your burning soul. However you pulled him to you, quieting him by pushing your own lips against of his. If sinning felt this good, you'd done it earlier. His breath was delightedly hot, lips surprisingly smooth. There was no hesitation, his hand grabbing your neck so he could pull you closer to him.

"Monseigneur?" a sudden voice called. She was awfully close, a little flame of the candle moving towards the two of you. Father Paul pulled back, now it just looked like he was kneeling next to you. Praying for you. Like the saint he was. Fucking Beverly Keane. That cockblocking bitch. You were beyond frustration. Not sure how long it would take for you to explode. When she came to stand next to the two of you, you were finally able to see Father Paul's face. He had composed himself pretty well, sure his brow was furrowed, yet he showed no sign of sin. You on the other hand. How were you going to explain this? Thank Go-.. Fortunately it was dark, so Beverly wouldn't see too much of the sexual frustration that was plastered all over your face. "O Jesus, our great High Priest, hear my humble prayers on behalf of your priests", Father Paul continued his prayer, as if you hadn't just violated him. Beverly seemed confused. Surprised even. Yet instead of going away and giving you the privacy you desperately needed, Beverly grabbed ahold of the cross on her necklace, moving to her knees as well so she could pray with the monseigneur. Damn her.

You were getting incredibly uncomfortable. Your panties soaked, cheeks as red as the wine they served during service, thoughts louder with profanities. And now you felt trapped. Pressure building, whether it was the sexual tension between you and your priest, or the frustration of knowing that this night you would get nothing more than a prayer, a kiss and fucking Beverly on her knees next to you. "I'm sorry, I can't do this", you mumbled, grabbing your bag, getting on your feet as quickly as you could. You caught a glance of Father Paul's face, the look on it, he seemed surprised. Ashamed? Stopped dead in his prayers and reached for you. Yet you moved passed him and Beverly, mumbling another sorry before you rushed out of the church. You weren't sure why you were so overwhelmed. Yet the moment Beverly kneeled next to the Father and prayed along, it felt like they were trying to convert you. You panicked. You'd rather be outside in the storm, than spend another minute inside. If it hadn't been for her, your night would have looked different.

Yet right now you were outside, rain draining your clothes, wind blowing you further away from the church. The rain cooling down your heated skin. You felt like you were on fire. Maybe bursting into flames was more of a figurative speech. With thunder crashing around of you, the wind strong, rain painful on your skin, you quickly came back to your senses. Running out of the church had seemed like such a good idea at the moment, yet right now you had nowhere to go. Your bag still inside, no key in hand. Fuck.

An arm moved around of your waist, guiding you somewhere. Fortunately not towards of the church, but a building near. The little house Father Paul used to live in. When you glanced up you saw him, dark hair sticking to his face, eyes kind, while he pushed you to safety. Once inside the rectory, you pushed the wet hair out of your face, creating a little distance between you and the father so you could look at him. Paul closed the door, locked it behind him, key in the lock so nobody could enter from the other side. His clothes were soaked, reminding you of how wet you were. Not just your drenched cunt, but overall. Your clothes stuck to your skin, and you were positive that you looked like a mess. Father Paul however, looked like a gift send from.. heaven. An Angel. "Are you alright?" he asked, closing the distance and putting both of his hands on your cheeks. He seemed worried, genuinely worried. Worried about your wellbeing, perhaps worried about overstepping boundaries. You simply nodded, moving a hand up to cup his face. "Just.. overwhelmed", you admitted, wiping away some of the hair on his face.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ran out into the storm", you were rambling, moving away a little so you could pace around. Wanting to explain yourself to him. "But having you so close to me, inside of the church, praying for me, kissing me", when you turned around to him again he was just looking at you. His face unreadable. "And then feeling so restricted. Having her near you", you didn't want to be mean. Show your hatred, but your face was an open book of emotions.

You weren't sure how he got to you so silently, so quickly, but his lips were on you again. This time burning with passion as he pulled your body flush against of his. You groaned, finally being able to give into the temptation that had been building for so long. Your hands were on his body. His shoulders, his broad muscular shoulders. Peeling at the fabric. He ignored you, his hands on both your cheeks again so he could keep your face close to his. As if he were afraid you'd move away from him. At least here, you had some privacy. You wouldn't have to worry about anyone coming here in order to check upon you or the priest. Nobody would be stupid enough to go outside in this weather. Except for you. You were shivering, pushing yourself closer against of the priest so you could benefit from his warmth. "Looks like I'll have to help you get rid of those sinful thoughts myself", damn him. Damn this man. Knowing exactly what to say to you to make your knees buckle. You weren't aware of your priest kink, not until right now. "Please", you whimpered, pulling at his pants, yet he swatted your hands away. Holding both of your wrists in his hand and pulling them up above of your head. "Allow me to purify those thoughts. I'll have you begging for God's mercy, I can promise you that."

Well fuck. You were in for it now.

"Get on your knees", you did as you were told. Missing his lips on yours already. While this was probably something Father Paul saw every church meeting. People kneeling in front of him in order to accept the grace of the Lord. There was something so awfully sinful about kneeling in front of him. "Pray with me", you arched an eyebrow, yet the hand on your head, into your hair, made you close your eyes. With your hands on your legs, you listened along, not knowing any of the words the Father was reciting. " You offered yourself to the Father on the altar of the Cross and through the outpouring of the Holy Spirit gave Your priestly people a share in Your redeeming sacrifice-.." there was more, yet you reached out to Paul, touching his jeans with your hand. He stopped, looking down at you an arching an eyebrow. Fuck you had done it now. "Please Father", oh that one seemed to affect him. There was that groan again, the one that had ruined you before. "Please help me Father", you tried again, pleading eyes.

It looked like he was holding himself back, holding himself back from consuming you whole. He had shown great restraint, but now that you had him here.. all alone, you were going to push him right over the edge. While he tried to purify your mind, or at least pretended to, you were going to corrupt his soul.

Your hand moved up his leg, edging closer towards of the well formed bulge in his pants. However before you could touch him where he definitely needed you the most, his hand was on your wrist again, he came down on his knees in front of you, pulling you towards him. There was a groan when he kissed you again, tongue immediately invading your mouth in order to claim you. He pulled at your clothing, practically ripping the fabric from your body. Your shirt was somewhere on the ground next to the window, your bra on top of it and before you knew it, Father Paul had rid you of your clothes and you sat naked in front of him. As naked as the day you were born. It was cold, you were shivering, nippled peaked, yet you were so obsessed with the man in front of you, that you ignored it. His hands were everywhere, "my sweet angel", he praised. While you felt anything but an angel, you weren't going to go against the word of the holy priest in front of you.

He traced his fingers along of your skin, stopping to admire some of the tattoos on your body. "So beautiful", he leaned in, lips against of your neck. He treated you like you were porcelain. As if you were to break if he would touch you with too much pressure. Not being able to control yourself, you eagerly pushed yourself against of him, sitting on his lap and grinding yourself against of his thigh. His tight jeans quickly soaked with your own juices. Wanting to feel some pressure, you pushed your bundle of nerves against the muscle of his leg. A moan falling from your lips as you felt him clench his muscle. "So impatient", he mocked, holding your hips as he forcefully pushed you down on his leg. "I need you Father, please guide me", you whispered, pressing your lips against of his jaw and following it up towards his lips. There you kissed him again, eyes closed and hands desperately grabbing his head. One hand in his hair, curls between of your fingers as you pulled, the other in his neck, lightly squeezing.

You weren't able to grind yourself against him, the squeeze of his hands on your hips and the strength prevented you from moving. All of the sudden he lifted you up. Taking you with him towards of his bedroom. The curtains were closed, the room was small, yes his mattress was soft. Your head hit his pillow, his scent everywhere. Father Paul was standing at the edge of the bed, as if he could see you properly in the dark. There was a weird shine to his eyes, like that of a cat, yet in your hazed state, you weren't able to properly think about it. All you did was widen your legs, inviting him over as you moved your hand along of your skin down to your own thigh.

He was on you in an instant, not letting you touch him. His one hand gathered your wrists and he pushed them above of your head again. Apparently Father Paul liked to be in control. His knee came in-between your legs, pushing against your warmth. He pushed his other hand against of your hips, keeping you pinned against of the mattress while his hot breath fanned over you skin. First your face, where he placed a couple of soft kisses, before slowly going down. Your cheek, your neck, shoulder, chest, all the way towards of your nipple. He was taking way too long for your liking. The room was filled with sexual tension and you weren't sure how long you were going to take this anymore. You needed more than his lips. More than his knee between your legs. You arched your back, slightly fighting against the tight grip he had on your body. "Father", you sounded desperate. "Please Father I need you." He merely chuckled against your skin. His teeth toying with your nipple. "Where", he moved his head towards of your other breast, kissing the skin around of your nipple before taking it in his mouth. You could feel your cunt pulsate, throbbing with need. "Tell me what you need (Y/N)", apparently Father Paul had studied the female anatomy attentively. Because this man knew exactly what he was doing to you. You were dripping, felt the wet patch on the bed.

"I need you! I need you to fuck me. Please", he chuckled. There was such a darkness over him now. There was something mysterious over the priest, you knew that, but you hadn't guessed that it was this. Not that you were complaining. You'd let him do whatever he pleased with you.

"Such language", you groaned in frustration, hearing him laugh. For a priest he was quite sadistic. He had you exactly where he wanted you. However you heard a zipper, the hand on your wrists had disappeared and he had his full weight on your hip. You couldn't see what was happening, but the shuffling between of your legs was a good promise. Both his knees were between your legs now, the hand on your hip sliding between of your folds in order to gather up your juices. You were so sensitive, moving your hips up in order to chase his movements. The moan that left your mouth the moment he touched your clit was beyond pornographic. "Please!" you uttered, desperation dripping from your voice. "I'll be there every Sunday. I'll confess every dirty little sin. But please, fuck me", lightening struck and that was when you saw his face. There was a smile, his cock in his hand, his eyes on you. "Such a good angel for me", Father Paul cooed, while he slipped the tip of his member between of your folds. Wetting the tip, circling your clit before he went to align himself against of your entrance. When he entered you, you definitely saw stars. Your back arched, hands reaching out so you could hold onto him while he slowly sank himself into you.

Who knew that moving here, eventually would have such a revelation. He grit his teeth together, pushing his forehead against yours, lips desperately finding yours again. "So good, you feel so good", his hips stuttered a couple of times, getting accustomed to your warmth. The way you hugged him just right. Paul carefully placed an elbow next to your head, his other hand found your hips again so he could carefully find himself a proper pace. He shushed your moans by slipping his tongue inside of you again, there was no need for a fight of dominance. Because you submitted to him immediately. Letting him take the lead. You wrapped your legs around of him, pulling him closer. It wasn't long before he found the perfect pace, his cock hitting all the right places. Nobody had ever found the spot deep inside of you, Father Paul however knew exactly how to angle his hips.

He moved up a little, lips stuck on yours while he grabbed both of your hips and fucked you like you had pleaded many times. "Touch yourself", he ordered against of your lips, tongue quickly swirling around yours again. You did as you were told, one hand moving between of your legs, where he disappeared inside of you, in order to rub along of the bundle of nerves that stood proud. You were more sensitive than ever and weren't sure how long you were going to last like this. With your back arched off the bed, his hips in your hands and your hand between of your legs, you couldn't help the chant of moans and pleads from falling. He smiled against of your lips, face moving towards of your neck so he could properly hear your prayer. "I'm going-", you pushed your finger hard against of your clit, eyes squeezed shut "Oh God", you almost screamed while climaxing. White stars forming while your body compulsed, your velvety walls gripping him tightly while he rode out your orgasm.

It took you longer than normally to recover from. You were panting, sweat dripping from your forehead while Father Paul chased his own release. His warm seed filled you up, creating more of a mess than you had already done. The sounds the priest on top of you made were unholy. You weren't sure who had won the game. Had he purified you? You had asked for God, mentioned God during your climax, promised him to attend to church all so he could fuck you.

Wit.h Father Paul collapsed on top of you, you wrapped your arms around of his frame. Mind still too soggy to properly form sentences. A few minutes passed, both of you fully recovered. Paul slowly pulled himself out of you, the emptiness causing you to whimper. The hand on your cheek caused you to turn your head. Trying to see him in the darkness. The kiss he gave you, somehow made you feel a whole lot more at ease. Knowing that this wasn't a 'I'll fuck you so you go to church' kinda thing. You weren't sure what to say. He had positively ruined you for any other person. "Does this mean I'll have to wakeup early every Sunday?" finally haven found your wit. He chuckled, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek. "You, my Angel, should do whatever you are comfortable with. I can always come and give you a private mass. Answer every question you have", he pulled you closer against him, "forgive every sin." "I would like that", if that meant seeing him more.. more than you already did. Then sure.

You two had created without realizing the perfect story. Father Paul had gone after you during the storm. Helping you rid yourself of the demons that were pestering you. Successfully opening you up to hear the word of the Lord.

The next morning, the sun awoke you. The curtains were still closed, your Priest nowhere to be found. When you glanced down, you found yourself wrapped in blankets. When you sat up, you winced slightly at the ache between of your legs. A fond memory of what had happened the night before. Your clothes were stacked on a chair, breakfast was on the table and there was a note.

Paul had gone back to church. The spot next to you was still slightly warm, you had just missed him.

The note mentioned something about him having to prepare for mass. That he wanted you to properly rest and eat. And that he would want to talk to you the upcoming evening.

After quickly getting dressed, eating the food he had left you, you got outside. People seemed to be leaving the church, you had missed the mass. Beverly was standing near the entrance, bidding everyone a farewell. When you approached she had a shit-eaten grin plastered on her face. You weren't sure what Father Paul had told her, yet for once in a lifetime she kept silent. There wasn't disgust in her face like she normally would have shown you. "If you're here to confess, you're right on time", she stepped aside, allowing you inside and nodding towards the booth. You didn't answer her, instead you walked inside, sitting inside of the confession booth. You had never done this. Never been inside the confession booth, but there was one thing you did know. "Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been forever since my last confession", when you glanced aside, being able to make out some of the Father's face, you couldn't help but smile. He seemed surprised. However quickly recovered himself. "In order to confess, you should be on your knees, shall I show you?"

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