For when you need that quick fix.
A collection of romance short stories: including fluff, drama, and smut (18+; there will be a disclaimer on the respective chapters!).
***Taking requests! Just DM me a prompt/trope and any details you have in mind...
Themes: Late 30s, dominant, sexy priest and new, innocent, pretty nun (postulant); lust at first sight; choking; rough sex
** If this premise makes you uncomfortable or offends you, please do not read! I mean no disrespect, this is purely for fantasy purposes.**
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Sophrosyne (n): an ideal of excellence of character and soundness of mind, which when combined in one well-balanced individual leads to other qualities, such as temperance, moderation, prudence, purity, decorum, and self-control.
-PART ONE-
Iyana's fingers buzzed as if she could feel each individual neuron firing in quick succession. She could still feel the lingering pressure of the new priest's fingers caressing her own while she took Communion.
Her curious eyes met his when she felt the cool wine touch her lips. He did not even look down while grasping the cup again, effortlessly wiping the part that pressed against her mouth.
She turned from the altar and took a seat just as the deacon read another short verse.
"May almighty God bless you in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit." Father Jethro concluded as we responded with an immediate echo of, "Amen."
Iyana walked up the aisle between the pews towards him at the end of the service. Most of the nuns were exiting the room to begin their tasks for the day. By the time Iyana took her final steps towards the new priest, who was new to the parish, they were the only two in the room.
"Iyana," he greeted warmly, "are you adjusting well?"
As a postulant, Iyana was learning more about the ascetic lifestyle that the nuns led before deciding to take her final vows. She was still acclimating to life at the convent.
"I seek your blessing for my candidacy, Father." She softly requested.
The tall man before her adjusted his dark robes, briefly exposing his sculpted forearm, and outstretched his hand, laying it on the younger woman's forehead. It dwarfed the small space, the bottom of his palm touched one temple while his fingertips rested on the other. A shiver wracked Iyana's spine.
"May the Lord be with you." He bent down so his eyes were level with hers. He tilted his head to the side, assessing her before straightening, letting his hand drop, and taking a step back.
Iyana let out a small breath thanking the priest before rushing out of the room.
