Adam Driver OneShots by Dceline96

Kylo Ren - Yes, Father

A/N: As someone who was raised catholic...this was weirdly cathartic to write.

Heavily inspired by 'A Full Confession' by kassanovella (10 out of 10, highly recommend), contains themes surrounding blasphemy, innocence/virginity kink, abuse of power, spanking. Please proceed with caution.

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Your steps were timid as you made your way past rows of empty pews, your footfalls echoing to the vaulted ceiling of the otherwise silent church. Your heart was beating at hard, uneven intervals as you made your way up the deceptively shallow steps to the altar and around the wall that held an eerie replica of a crucified Christ before spilling out into a dimly lit hallway. Your pace to Father Ren's office was slow and cautious; rationality screaming at you to turn around and leave with every step.

This was a bad idea...you knew it was a bad idea. But you were here anyway.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of his door, ear trained on the gentle cacophony of sounds coming from inside--a shuffle of papers, the creek of his chair as he shifted his weight. You tried to picture him, your brain struggling to decide whether he would already be in his full priest attire or if, given the early hour, he'd still be in his unnervingly normal clothes. You hoped it was the latter.

You knocked, the echo ringing through the desolate hall as the noise inside of Ren's office softened to silence. You waited a moment more, pulling nervously at the hem of your skirt before knocking again.

"Father Ren...it's me."

Time seemed to freeze as you waited, blood sending a warm flush over your entire body as you heard his heavy footsteps on the other side of the door, getting closer, louder until...

The door swung open, a haze of warm light flooding the hallway, highlighting the monolith of a man standing before you. Your breath caught as you took in the sight of him, his usual black slacks just barely gracing the firm muscles of his thighs. He was in a black t-shirt, the thin fabric pulled taught against his broad chest; muscles and tendons flexing and rolling with even the most minute movement of his arms.

The image of his hand wrapping around your throat, soft full lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck--a recollection of a dream, a fantasy that could never be.

You gave him a soft smile, dropping your gaze to the floor as you stepped around him, your hands gracing the back of your skirt to keep it from rising too far up with each of your steps.

"You're early," he said matter-of-factly, shutting the door.

You didn't turn to look at him, your pulse a dull roar in your ear as you felt him stall for a moment behind you.

"I know, I'm sorry, Father," your voice was barely above a whisper as you stepped in front of his desk, lowering yourself into a chair. "I was having a hard time sleeping. I kept having..." you let your words die on your lips, heat flushing your cheeks as you finally met Father Ren's stare.

He raised his hand as he eased into his chair, the worn leather protesting with a soft whine as he gave it his full weight. Ren let his hand fall to the desk, knuckles meeting wood with a solemn knock as he considered your words.

You had been at this for nearly two months, sitting at this damned desk, spilling your innermost thoughts to this formidable figure of piety as he sat there, silently judging you.

You would think by now that he would have released you from his guidance but every week he seemed to find another sin, another reason you needed to come back to him and you...well...you just kept on sinning, now didn't you.