Kylo Ren/Adam Driver One-Shot Collection

Dirty Deeds - Kylo Ren*

Pairing: Priest!Kylo x Reader

Word count: 4.3k

**Warnings: Dom!Kylo, Blasphemy, Blood play, Cross fucking, Brief wax play, Knife play, Degradation, Holy water, Sex on the alter, God is nowhere to be found, Bondage including rosary beads, God kink, Slapping, Spitting, Choking, Edging, Semi-fluff, Forbidden kiss.

Summary: A young, sinful girl seeks guidance from her Lord, but she's struggling to grapple whether her devotion to God is as prominent as her infatuation with Father Ren.

Req-fill: WarmSensations
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The chapel was a godless solitude. Doused in sin, and heinous virtues. The befouled, mahogany beams buttressing the elevated, chipping ceiling of the church, groaned boisterously with melancholia. It was intoxicating, as the scents of your sinful immoralities loitered in the tarnished air, that reeked of the coaxed lies of the bible.

The ivory of your mollified, brittle joints pierced the skin of your knuckles, as you braced the leather surface of His virtuous book in your clammy digits.

Bristling down the slender aisle, illuminated by the moons misanthropic glow bestowed upon the ornately architected dormer windows, the lows murmurs of your negligence of God sheathed the walls of your swollen brain.

The celtic cross beamed down at you with an ominous snicker of His judgment. Mounted to the peeling wallpapered walls, the sapphire hue of the moons mellow wrath articulated silhouettes of His sainthood along the belching, tiled floors.

The ravenous breeze, elicited the howl of swaying tree-limbs, as the faint tap of a delicate branch poking the window reverberated around the quaint cubicle of pitiful faith and dejected hope.

All of your moralities were just rubbish— shards of fragile, bloodied glass, that crunched nefariously beneath the soles of your lustrous boots. Trepidation bled through the cavernous gap of reluctance electrifying your veins, for instead of fearing His punishment due to your sinful exploits, you embraced your unscrupulous deeds, with welcoming arms, and a rosary dangling from your dainty neck.

Crows bleated off in the distance, swarming the victorian, unlenient building, as the carcass of the church squelched in agony. Dust swirled in ornate patterns around your booted feet, as you calmly staggered to a halt before the chipping, splintered podium.

Apprehensions clouded your mind of steel, as you inhaled the abhorrent scent of ash and embers, as smoke billowed from the auburn-glinted tips of votive candles perched upon the stone altar.

The rustic floorboards croaked as you rustled with the silky, floor-length skirt swathing your modesty, crouching tediously to be kneeling before the pedestal of your Lord.

Your viceful grasp on His marginal book of undiplomatic preferences and rules of the anatomy of human kind, and His desired exploits of his sinless children, tightened.

Instead of shielding your dubiously faltering soul, the beaded rosary garbing your neck only weighed down your sanity and saturated it with vile salaciousness.

"Lord," Your hoarse voice quaked with unease, ricocheting off of the pious walls of the chapel, where infernal prosperities sulked beyond the feigned saintitude of flaking wallpaper. "My Lord, please forgive me—" You gulped down your inculpation, "For I have sinned."