" purity is a construct made to shame you. you need not be clean to be good – and damn the hands that dirty you. "
ᯇ ✧ contents: religious themes, religious delusions, oral sex
ᯇ ✧ disclaimer: abraham atkins/yandere church boy belongs to @devourable ; im just borrowing him for porn reasons 😌
it was mid summer, and the gentle sounds of the season poured in through the open windows of ambrose' home along with the soft light of the afternoon. it is warm, notably so– warm enough to drive a person to laziness, stirring up the need to stay inside and be still.
inside, though, it is hot.
the small bedroom is hot, the kind of heat that is all-consuming, laying a thick blanket of haziness over the inhabitants– but the inside of ambrose's mouth is hotter still.
it could have been minutes or hours– abraham would never have been able to tell the difference. not when ambrose was kneeling between his spread legs, one hand delicately placed on his inner thigh, the other wrapped around the base of his cock. but the real struggle was his mouth– his glorious, perfect, scorching hot mouth.
ambrose bobbed his head, taking the time to swirl his tongue skillfully around the head of abraham's cock, causing the boy to moan shakily. it was music to ambrose' ears, more satisfying than the salty taste of precum on his tongue.
"oh, love, please–" abraham gasps, unsure if he's begging for more or begging for him to stop. not that it would matter– he couldn't fathom possibly asking ambrose to stop. how could you ask something so heavenly to change its plans? its like asking the planets to change their course.
ambrose hummed, pulling his mouth off of his dick with a slick 'pop.'
"please what, baby?" he keeps his hand working, and abraham nearly withers under his lover's intense, ocean blue gaze. the corners of the blonde mans lips quirk up, and he smiles. it cracks open something secret in abraham's chest, and he shudders and whines, a tremor running through his legs as ambrose swipes a thumb across the head of his cock, circling it. "you sound so pretty when you moan like that."
"ambrose...!" abraham gasps, his name tumbling out with a flavor of something a lot like reverence.
"you have to tell me what you want if you want me to make you feel good," ambrose coaxes, digging his nails gently into abraham's thigh, giving him something aside from overwhelming pleasure to focus on. but because ambrose knows him, knows abraham so well, the way only someone divine could know him, he prompts him further. "it's okay to ask for what you want, my love. i'll give you whatever you want. but you have to ask."
his hand has slowed down now, enough that abraham has backed off the precipice of insanity, giving him a chance to speak. still, he squirms on the bed, hips jerking everytime ambrose brushes his fingers over the sensitive spot just on the underside of the head of his cock.
"i-i..." he stutters, feeling teary eyed. ambrose encourages him with another soft smile. he groans, words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them. "please, i-i need your mouth! oh, i'm so close–!" he cries, tears of oversensitivity and pure, white-hot pleasure coating his cheeks.
"thats good," ambrose smiled at him, proud, so bright and perfect it's blinding– like he's made of pure, infinite light. it almost makes abraham feel better, though it doesn't clear up the way his face burns bright red. "don't worry, baby– i'll always give you what you need."
ambrose leans forward again, licking over his head and then taking abraham into his mouth again. abraham throws his head back at the feeling, overcome with the slick, velvety heat– coming completely undone at the seams.
he can't look away for long; he is always drawn back to ambrose. a moth to a flame– a sinner to his god.
ambrose looks up at him through his lashes, his plush lips still locked around his cock, and their eyes meet. the golden light from the late afternoon sun floods through the window, not stopped at all by the gauzy curtains around ambrose's bedroom window.
it illuminates him in a soft, hazy glow. it's unnatural, abraham thinks, the way the light settles around him. it bounces off his golden curls, haloing him in the shine. he is so beautiful, it hurt to look at him. he is perfect.
abraham cums to the image of an angel between his thighs, a chant of his name on his lips– the most holy prayer he can offer.
•ଓ.° a fic commission for: @devourable. word count: 2.0k. interested in commissioning me? find more information here.
•ଓ.° content warnings apply: semi dark!yandere, under negotiated kink, exhibitionism, degradation/mean dirty talk (use of 'whore' in a degrading way), possible claustrophobia
•ଓ.° ft. luka hadden x jordan okorie
A few hours ago, the two were rushing out the door to make it to the movie they had been waiting on for ages on time. They had been a little too preoccupied in their very comfortable bed, half asleep for hours at a time, to realize how late it had gotten, and by the time Luka lazily checked his phone, they had barely 20 minutes to get ready and out the door to make it halfway across town.
Thirty minutes ago, they had decided to stop at the nearest Walmart that was still open late to pick out some snacks and food for the next few days. A little treat, since they were already out of the house– and even Luka was in a good mood, after the movie had turned out to be enjoyable.
Barely ten minutes ago, however, Jordan had made the mistake of reaching just a little bit too high to pull something off the top shelf, and revealed to Luka who was coming back up the aisle that the entire time they had been out of the house, they had been relying on Luka’s hoodie to cover up the fact that they weren't wearing any pants. His hoodie was already a bit large on him, the way he preferred it, which made it extra large on Jordan– the hem hanging past their mid-thighs. Reaching up that high, though, it reveled a lot more.
His mouth was dry instantly, and it took an effort greater than he would care to admit not to drop everything in his hands right then and there. Forcing himself to walk as nonchalantly as he could back up the aisle, he couldn't think of anything to say as Jordan turned to him with a smile and placed their items in the blue basket he was lugging around. It was hard to focus on their face, with the image of all that bare skin burned into his brain.
He had to shove his free hand into his pocket to hide the way his fingers were shaking, earning a questioning frown from Jordan. Luka just looked in a different direction, clearing his throat– reminding himself that they were headed home, that he could wait that long. He could. He would have too.
A bit bemused, Jordan continued their trip up and down the next couple of aisles until there was nothing left for either of them to look for. It wasn't entirely uncharacteristic for Luka to be on the quieter side in public.
Still, by the time they had gotten out of the store and were walking across the desolate parking lot, Jordan had nearly forgotten about Luka's momentary personality shift. Or, at least, they had convinced themself that it was in fact momentary, and nothing was wrong. That is, until Luka had the trunk popped and stepped aside to let Jordan put the rest of the bags in there, and they unconsciously bent over just a little bit too far.
The back of the hoodie rid up over their thighs as Jordan leaned forward to set the plastic bags down, and the last tender threads of Luka's self control, wound far too tight, snapped one by one.
He lasted just long enough for Jordan to close the trunk and begin to walk around to the passenger seat, but it took less than three steps for Luka to realize that he couldn't wait until they got home. He didn't think he could wait even a few more minutes.
His footsteps were quick behind Jordan, almost alarmingly so, and suddenly they were pinned against the back right door, front against the window. It drew a startled noise out of them, air leaving their lungs in a surprised gasp.
"I was trying to wait," Luka rasped, pressed against their back like he couldn't stand to have even an inch of distance between them. “Wait until we got home, but you…” He let out an unsteady breath.
For a few moments, Jordan was confused about where this intensity was coming from. But then Luka’s hands were shifting down past their waist and under the hem of the hoodie they had borrowed from him, and they quickly remembered.
“You were just running around like this all fuckin’ night?” He groaned as his hands skimmed up and over their thighs and past the waistband of their underwear, before he tightened his grip on their hips, pulling backwards. Jordan stiffens up against him, especially at the feeling of his already painfully hard dick straining against his jeans. “Fuck, Jordan.” This time, his breath came out in a ragged gasp as he pulled their hips back against his, grinding himself against them.
As quick as he had originally pinned them, he pulled back and grabbed their shoulder, flipping them around to face him. If they hadn't been pinned so carefully between him and the car, the force of the manhandling would have sent them stumbling. Jordan’s hands flew up to his chest, but it wasn't fast enough to stop the onslaught.
Luka kissed them, his mouth hot and the kiss desperate. His hands returned to the bare skin under the hoodie, hiking it up a little too high for Jordan’s comfort.
Jordan moved their hands down, whining against his mouth, trying to pull away in order to communicate more effectively or push his hands down.
Luka got the message– he could read them better than anyone, after so long spent studying their every move, every reaction.
“Don’t want anyone to see you? Should have thought of that before you left the fuckin' house like this,” Luka snarled– but there was a glint of pure infatuation that was ever present in his eyes these days. Besides, he though he might have to kill someone if they looked at Jordan in this state– that was for him. So, despite the harshness of his words, he pulled one hand away and reached to the side, pulling Jordan into his body even more in order to pull the door to the backseat open.
Without hesitation, Luka crowded Jordan against the opening and coaxed them inside, climbing in after them.
The car was barely big enough for both of them to fit in the backseat like this, especially not with how big Luka was, and it was a bit awkward and definitely uncomfortable– but it didn't seem like Luka cared much. Once the door had been pulled closed behind them and they were secluded in the car, away from the outside world, Luka was all over Jordan.
His kiss was borderline aggressive, hot and all-consuming as he pushed them down against the seat, situating himself between their legs. Jordan gripped his shoulders, practically holding onto him for dear life, while Luka’s hands pushed the hoodie up around their waist.
“Were you waiting for me to see this?” He asks, practically growls, between heated kisses, his fingers digging into Jordan’s hips. “Can’t fucking believe you, Jordan,” he nipped at their lower lip, a bit harshly. Jordan made a low noise at the sting, and Luka felt like he was spiraling. “Just sitting next to me all fucking night like this. Fuck.”
As he kissed them again, leaving Jordan’s head spinning at the intensity and the rising heat in the car, he pushed one hand past the waistband of their underwear. It didn't take long for Luka to slide a finger inside them, causing them to jolt and moan in surprise.
“You think I wouldn't see? Or did you want this to happen?” Luka asked, practically interrogating Jordan in between kisses and bites; he added a second finger, pumping them in and out at a pace slow enough to not hurt them but quick enough to make the stretch burn. “Fuck, if you wanted me to fuck you in public, you could have just asked.”
“Mm!” They clenched around his fingers as he spoke, which only made Luka groan.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, eyes wild as he bent back down and kissed them, tongue sliding into their mouth and overtaking all of their senses. Everything was Luka, Luka, Luka– just how he wanted it to be.
He thrust his fingers a little more harshly into them, curling them up and hitting all of their favorite spots until his wrist was cramping and Jordan was quivering under him.
“I can’t wait anymore,” Luka growled, pulling back just far enough to undo the button and zipper of his jeans, voice dark enough to be almost threatening. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane–” as he spoke he reached down, sliding one hand under their left thigh and hoisting it up to give himself better access.
There was no time to spend trying to pull their underwear all the way off– he’d go crazy before they even got it halfway down. Instead, once their leg was up and hooked over his shoulder for the time being, he pulled their underwear to the side. Luka couldn't keep his mouth off of them for long, so he bent down for another demanding kiss and he guided himself to their entrance. Jordan whined into his mouth, which only spurred him on.
With little fanfare, Luka thrust inside them, earning a high pitched whining moan from them, and drawing a ragged curse from himself. The leather of the car seats clung to Jordan’s bare skin, making the shifting back and forth uncomfortable, but they were both too preoccupied with other things to do much about it.
“Fuck, I can’t–” Luka gripped their waist, using the little leverage he had in such small quarters to pound into them. His jeans made it hard to keep balance on the smooth seats, kneeling awkwardly, but it didn't stop him. Nothing could have stopped him at this stage. “I can’t be gentle,” he groaned, sounding half apologetic. “You have no idea what you fucking do to me, do you?”
Their body heat and the heavy breathing began to generate fog on the window above them. Luka didn't stop talking, even as he moaned and stumbled over his thoughts, the feeling of being inside them too good. It scrambled his thoughts, left him seeking one thing only.
“Next time I’ll fuck you right in the theatre,” he threatened, “if you want to run around like whore. Fuck,” he grunted, thrusting at just the right angle to make Jordan cry out.
He pounded into them, unable to restrain himself. Again, Jordan whimpered at the sting that accompanied the pleasure, but it made it all so much better– almost more than they could handle. Especially when all of his thrusts began to brush across that bundle of nerves inside them, shooting pleasure through them like an electric current.
As Luka snapped his hips at a relentless pace, Jordan’s moans reached a fever pitch, and they grasped onto his shirt wildly, desperate for something to ground them, pushing at his chest weakly– the sensations were so much, too much. In response, Luka huffed, nearly growling, before pulling their arms away and pinning them up by the door. He knew they liked to be pinned, liked when he forced them to take more– and he was more than happy to oblige. One of his hands was enough to secure both wrists down, and his other hand found its home at Jordan’s throat.
Luka watched as Jordan gasped and whined, tears pricking in their eyes. “Take it,” Luka groaned, demanding. He leaned over them, so close, taking up what little space the backseat of their car allowed. His fingers were gentle around their neck at first, before they tightened gradually. Combined with the harsh thrusts, jostling Jordan back and forth, his hand around their throat was enough to send them over the edge as overwhelmed tears spilled down their cheeks.
They barely had time to open their mouth and gasp his name as white-hot tingling heat spread through them, making them tense up in agonized anticipation.
“Luka-!”
Their orgasm came so fast, so hard, that it almost hurt, and left them spasming around him; Luka had to drop his head to their shoulder and curse at the feeling– both at their body and at the tingling the sound of his name from their mouth brought on. They clenched around him, heels pressing into his back and fists clenching uselessly above their head.
Luka fucked them through it, fast and hard, releasing his grip on their throat only when they tapped his arm– but they both knew he couldn't last long like that; he never did. With a chanted, wavering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck–” Luka came inside them, hips stuttering even as he stopped thrusting. He gasped, breath fanning across Jordan’s neck.
After a minute, Luka turned his head, releasing Jordan’s hands as he buried his face in their neck. He didn't pull out, though– instead, he grinded his hips down, pulling a strangled gasp out of Jordan’s mouth.
“Let's go home,” he muttered against their skin. “So I can really fuck you ‘til you’re screaming.”
i have the best grandpa ever ok i went up to him and asked him if he had a nice butt when he was younger and he stopped everything he was doing, slapped his butt and said "I still have a nice butt"
