Chapter Text
There’s an old abandoned church on Main Street where Rey goes to hide during blizzards. She knows a secret way in through the basement, and sometimes she takes advantage—just for the night.
It wouldn’t be right to live there, even with a warm shower and safe bed at her disposal. She feels guilty enough breaking into a church to risk eternal damnation by living in it. That’s desecration. Sacrilege.
Seeking out a warm place to sleep is different. Plus, it’s abandoned. God won’t mind if she sneaks in to warm her toes and wash off the grime.
So Rey does just that. She takes the familiar path underground past rat nests and exposed sewage until she crawls out to the dusty pulpit. Snow drifts silently past the stained glass windows, so heavily laden with dust that dirt that the light doesn’t stream through.
She tiptoes to the rec room. The shower still runs and provides relief from the subzero temperatures, warming up her frostbitten toes and fingers and chasing away the chill. She lingers until the hot water is gone, then dries with one of the white furniture covers. Dirt wipes off with water.
Rey pads to the pulpit again as she squeezes out her hair. This is a little vacation for her amid the painful realities of living on the street; even the hard pew where she’ll probably doze off.
It won’t be that way forever. She has an interview to be a cashier at a gas station, and even making minimum wage—maybe she can afford to live with a roommate. After taxes she won’t even make a thousand dollars a month, not to mention—
“Hello there.”
Rey jumps at a deep voice that echoes through the silent church. Her heart flutters and she takes a step back. She’s fucked. This is divine retribution.
Then she sees a man sitting some rows back with his arms stretched over the back of the pew. His hair is black, neatly trimmed to cover his ears, and he wears a black clerical shirt contrasting pale skin. He’s smiling. His features are crooked and his nose is long.
She retreats. “I’ll go.”
“No, no. You don’t have to leave, dear. I own this church.” He motions with a wave of his wrist. “Sit. Please make yourself comfortable.”
“I’m sorry. I live outside and it’s so cold—”
He sighs, interrupting her. It reverberates through the empty pews.
“Come,” he says. “Sit.”
Rey is no stranger to the dangers of trusting men. But she’s afraid this one might call the police if she doesn’t obey, and she can’t afford to go back to jail.
Nervous, she shuffles down the steps to the other side of the aisle. She picks a seat closer to the pulpit but faces toward the man, who doesn’t beckon her closer. He studies her for a quiet minute.
“My name is Kylo,” he says.
“Rey.”
“Ah. Unique.” He taps his fingers on the pew. “So you live on the street, Rey?”
She nods and points toward the window. “Down on Hickory. Sometimes I move when the cops come by.”
Kylo nods along with her. He seems very tall but she can’t quite tell with him sitting down.
“You must be cold.”
“Yeah, but it’s better in here than out there.”
His dark eyes track along the pulpit to the cross draped in a white sheet, pensive. Rey turns to look at it as well and glances over her shoulder as candles flicker to life near the double doors.
An orange glow illuminates the shadows and casts across Kylo’s pale face. He smiles, then Rey slowly looks at the pulpit and sees more candles have come to life. They’re everywhere, and every time she turns her head, more have lit up.
A shiver passes through her. “Have you owned the building long?”
Kylo scratches his jaw and shrugs.
“Couple years. I’ve been meaning to turn it into a residence but it feels… wrong to clear out a church.”
“Oh.” Rey gazes at the white candles scattered around the pulpit, imagining how warm they must feel. “Do you own other properties?”
“Oh yes. I own lots of property.”
A cold prickle runs down Rey’s spine. She smiles and Kylo smiles back. His eyes are dark.
She wrings her hands in her lap. “…A lot of buildings, then? Are you a landlord?”
“In some ways, yes.”
“Are you a priest? Just because…” Rey motions to her neck. “That white thing.”
“In some sense of the word,” Kylo replies.
The pew creaks as he gets to his feet. He is tall, and wearing all black clothes except to the speck of white near his throat. He sidles from the row out to the aisle and clasps his hands behind his back, shoes clicking, ambling toward the pulpit.
Rey watches him walk past her and sit in one of the pews directly up front. He casts her a glance over his shoulder and smiles.
“Come here,” he says. “Better lighting.”
Hesitant, Rey slowly rises from her pew and makes her way to his. He eyes her as she steps over his shiny shoes to take a seat a handful of feet away from him.
Firelight catches the bits of exposed stained glass, casting green and blue and purple across the floor. It would be beautiful, but in the cold darkness with snow falling silently outside, it’s ominous.
Maybe she should just leave. It seems like Kylo isn’t happy with her presence.
“You’re more than welcome to stay here whenever you like,” he says.
Rey blinks, surprised. “Oh—really?”
“Sure.”
He slowly turns his head to look at her and her throat tightens. His eyes are entirely black, not a speck of white, and his smile is wider than it should be. She stares, frozen in fear.
Kylo raises his eyebrows. “But you have to give me something in return.”
Holy shit. He’s not a priest.
Rey tries to run but finds she still can’t move, even as Kylo beckons and her body moves of its own volition. She slides along the pew until she’s sitting beside him, and a long, heavy arm drapes over her shoulders.
She shudders and closes her eyes. He squeezes his fingers around her upper arm like he’s hugging her.
“I can leave,” she whispers. His body is cold and stiff. Her teeth chatter. “I can leave. I’m sorry.”
“But you already broke into my church, didn’t you?” Kylo nuzzles her hair, sighing. “You’ll have to pay at least one toll if you don’t want to come to a longer arrangement.”
“Please—I can leave.”
He inhales. Smelling.
“No, you can’t. Not until you repay me.”
Rey’s lower lip trembles from fear but she still can’t move. The shadow of the cross bears down on them, and Kylo strokes his sharp fingertips along her bare skin. Repay him? How can she repay him?
She swallows. “I don’t have any money.”
“I know.” He lowers his voice like someone else might hear, lips at her ear. He smells like rain. “But you do have a very pretty mouth.”
“Sir—please. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yes,” Rey croaks, “I’m so sorry.”
Kylo digs his nails into her skin and she cries out in pain. Snow drives past the windows.
“Then get on your knees,” he murmurs, “and repent like all sinners do.”
Another tense minute passes before Rey slides from the pew, shivering and wiping tears from her eyes. She keeps them downcast as she moves to kneel between Kylo’s thighs. The floor is hard, cracked concrete but her body is used to that by now.
He keeps his arms stretched over the back of the pew and watches her trembling hands go to his belt. She’s done this before—for food, for shelter, to avoid jail—but she still hates doing it.
His belt buckle comes open. Rey hurries through the rest of his dark slacks, wincing when she feels him run his long fingers through her hair. It’s dark but she can still feel the warm hardness of his cock in his pants, and she sees it as she slips it free. She licks her lips and tries not to give it much thought.
“Slowly,” Kylo says softly. He rubs her hair between his fingertips. “We have all night, Rey.”
They do, and no one will care.
She wraps her fingers around his length and finds it the same strange temperature as the rest of him. It’s thick, flared at the tip completely unlike a human man, and has different bumps and ridges along the shaft. Thankfully she can hardly see it.
Rey runs the tip of her tongue up the underside, tracing over a bump that mirrors on the other side of his cock. Kylo groans and cups the side of her head. He’s thick enough that she can gently stroke him while she kisses and licks, mouthing up to the flared tip where salty fluid is already leaking.
She shifts on her knees, unsure. What if she gets sick? Will it make her sick?
“Go ahead,” Kylo coos. He pushes the back of her head until she opens her mouth and takes him in. A low growl echoes in the church. “That’s it—” His big body shudders, then another growl. “That’s it.”
Tears prickle in the corners of her eyes. His length rolls across her tongue, prodding the back of her throat and filling her mouth so completely that she worries she’ll choke. Rey grasps his base and bobs her mouth in time with long strokes, swallowing so she won’t gag, ears ringing.
Kylo pushes until she does gag. He threads his fingers through her damp hair and tugs so she’s looking up at him with a mouthful of his cock, thick saliva drooling from her lips. His lips are parted and she can see a hint of fangs behind them.
He gently moves, thrusting and making her gag more, and his eyes stay trained on her face.
“Good girl,” he praises. His breath hitches, dark eyes hooded. “Such a soft, messy little mouth.”
Kylo pushes on the back of her head. Rey whimpers, swallowing desperately as he forces his cock in deeper. The tip slips over her tongue and she huffs through her nose in a panic. He’s big. She’s moving her mouth and licking him but he fists her hair and slowly takes control.
He heaves a pleased sigh, now fucking her throat, gentle as it may be. Rey hooks her fingers over his belt and looks at him when he whispers for her to, into black, lifeless eyes and a sadistic smile.
She feels like she wants to cry, but there’s also a strange thrill in it. Taboo.
His cock twitches every now and again and she tastes salt. Lewd wet squelches mingle in the firelight, punctuated by her nervous breaths and his pleasured panting. Kylo’s eyes flicker back and his head rolls so he can look up at the ceiling.
“Such a good little cocksucker.” Kylo shifts in the pew and his breath hitches. He’s close. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.” He pushes on her head, hips jerking, and he shudders. “Just like that—”
Rey squeals as he forces her down to the hilt of his cock. He thrusts roughly and chokes on a long groan as he climaxes, cock flaring in the back of her throat and spilling his release. He bucks his hips and Rey whimpers and swallows, helpless.
Kylo shivers and stills when he’s through. He pets her as she spits out his cock, holding firm when she tries to slip away to cry. Now she’s going to hell.
He sighs, relieved, sated. “Come here, little one. Come here.”
“I just want to leave!” she sobs. “Let me go!”
He groans and shakes his head, tucking his cock back in his pants. Rey swats at his hands but he gathers her off the floor and into his lap. He wraps his arms around her and heaves another sigh.
“Shh,” he soothes, “shh. It’s so cold outside—I don’t want you to lose any of those fragile fingers and toes.” He kisses the top of her head, voice dropping, husky. “And you have such a lovely mouth. I’d hate to let you go before we discuss an arrangement.”
“No.” Rey shakes her head, quivering while Kylo wipes her mouth clean. “I don’t want that.”
The candles extinguish, one by one, slowly reducing the church back to a shadow. Rey stares in terror at the cross looming behind the pulpit and thinks she might see it move in the darkness.
Kylo carries on shushing her, coiling his arms around her. She’s so cold. Her eyes flutter.
“I know,” he whispers. Nails bite into her flesh. “But before the night is through, I’m going to acquire a new property, little one—by whatever means necessary.”
Darkness closes in, and beyond the old abandoned church laden with suffocating snow, not a single one of her desperate pleas can be heard.