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xxsycamore · 4 months ago

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╰┈➤ When you discover a mysterious hole in a restroom inside the Crown castle, you're ready to catch the ill-doers of whatever forbidden exchange is taking place and take them straight to Victor. Little do you know, your curiosity would lead you to give more and more of yourself to that ridiculous cause, night after night. And you might just end up enjoying it.

— William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Ellis, Jude, Roger, Victor x f!Reader

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Glory Hole; Anonymous Sex; Corruption; Hand Jobs; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Come Eating; Come Swallowing; Deepthroating; Masturbation; Dirty Thoughts; Smoking; Objectification; Overstimulation; Penis Size; Multiple Orgasms; Ruined Orgasms; Vaginal Sex; Vaginal Fingering; Size Difference; Large Cock; Creampie; Breast Fucking; Dirty Talk; Squirting/Vaginal Ejaculation • wordcount: 5,836 • masterlist

a/n: I've had this idea for a while now and here it is, finally. One of the longest smuts I've written and definitely one that I'm proud of. Enjoy!

⏮ ⏯ ⏭ NIN - The Wretched

Visions of Temptation 2024/KINKTOBER DAY 2: Glory Holes

NINE NIGHTS.

Among the many things you've been warned about when you first started living at the castle, you couldn't help but be curious the most about one thing. That infamous communal restroom located at the very end of the left wing's top-floor corridor. Remoted and basically isolated from the lively parts of the castle, if it weren't for the obscene rumor Alfons shared with you, you might not have discovered such a place exists at all. Actually, you're still not convinced if it truly exists. It's all too much like the hedonistic bastard to mess with your head like that.

That's why you're on a mission to do a little investigation on your own.

Arriving at the dimly lit location, your anticipation is flattened by the lack of anything obscure to be found. The restroom hardly differs from the ones you've seen around the place: well-maintained and designed accordingly to match the elegant style of the castle. One side is for the ladies, the other for the gentlemen; two different entrances, a wall separating them right in the middle.

You don't know why you even bother going as far as peeking an eye inside the stalls, but nothing appears to be amiss there as well.

Apart from one thing.

You nearly missed it in the sparse light, but the cut-out hole in the wooden wall inside the second stall stands starkly against the otherwise well-polished surface of it.

Suddenly it all clicks, and you remember Alfons' words.

"Rumor has it that around eleven in the evening, people go there to partake in rather... scandalous exchanges. Both parties are provided with anonymity and everything that takes place inside the restroom stays there. We might be a modest group of inhibitors here, little Robin, but everyone has their needs. We don't judge which part of the partition you choose to be on."

This has to be about drugs! As outrageous as it is, it perfectly explains the hole - large enough to serve for the purpose of one such "exchange", the wooden wall in-between separating provider and client.

You chose to linger around here just early enough to be able to leave without witnessing what does - or does not - happen in the established hour, and just close enough to it in case if, for some reason, you'd want to stay and find out for yourself. This means you can perfectly well remain waiting in the stall, catch the culprit red-handed, and take him straight to Victor. You're sure he knows nothing of this, it can't be otherwise.

You don't have to dwell in your thoughts for much longer, because in the perfectly tranquil air around you, you're able to pick up the soft noise of the door opening on the other side. Readily, you prepare to grab hold of whatever is inserted through the hole and see if your hunch is correct.

Little do you know, the sight will make you reconsider at once. You blink your eyes several times when you look down.

It takes you everything not to scream, barely being fast enough to clasp a hand around your own mouth, as soon as you realize what you're looking at.

Whoever is on the other side of the restroom is currently giving access to a certain part of themselves, and by the way it stands erect and demanding attention, you can imagine just one possible scenario of what the person on your side of the partition is expected to do with it.

The breath hitches in your throat. Will you be found out if you were to exit right now? Even if you won't be seen, even if anyone else could have been here, in your place…

A very dangerous thought fills your head, and you know listening to it should be the last thing you do. Still, for the sake of getting to the bottom of this and not disrupting any of it just yet, you start to think it might not be that bad if you just…

Hesitantly, your hand reaches out until your fingertips can almost graze the very tip of the cock in front of you. Eyes falling closed for a second, nine different faces flash through your mind. Nine possibilities. It's as if this changes everything between you and the mysterious man on the other side, when in reality it changes nothing at all. You think back to your fellow Crownmates, as if trying to see if the thought of any of them pushes you away, but to no avail.

You might have lost your mind. Fingers slowly curling around the hot flesh in front of you, the initial contact is far easier than you thought. You start pumping the hardness in your fist right away, noting the way it slightly swells in your hand, despite already seeming quite aroused.

The slight tremble of your fingers is perhaps a welcomed side-effect of the adrenaline coursing through your system, as the cock in your hand is very receptive to your actions. You wonder to yourself if the person on the other side is used to this sort of thing. Or maybe it's his first time here too, his curiosity getting the better of him. Just like you, in a way. However, he's clearly being able to get off on that thrill. It must be contagious because you become bolder with your movements and your eyes are no longer shy to the sight in front of you. It's embarassing not to be able to take your eyes away, but you can't help it - there's something so fine about it; the size and shape of it, the saturated pink color of the glossy tip, the small bud of precum threatening to spill over with excitement on the next enthusiastic throb…

In just a couple more strokes, the object of your admiration closes the spectacle with a rather grandiose final act… The vigorous spurts of its culmination leave a milky-white trail down the crevices of your fingers as you marvel at the sheer amount he came.

Giving him one last base-to-top stoke, nice and slowly, you catch yourself being so captivated by the obscure display that you're almost disappointed when it all ends and you snap back to reality.

Time to splash some cold water on your face.

The sound of a grandfather clock announcing eleven in the evening is coming from afar but you still hear it without mistake. You've found yourself in this cursed place again, albeit with hesitation. Going back to the events of last night leaves you with mixed feelings. For one, you swear you're being fooled with. Is this Alfons' sick idea of having fun? Luring you to some shady place, provoking you to commit unspeakable acts… You bet there are no other parties even involved in this to begin with. Who knows what the hole really is for, but to use it the way he did… it truly takes an unhinged imagination, you have to admit. Now you just have to find him back at the scene of the crime - God knows they always come back - and this time you won't be so generous. It's not exactly a plan that you have but you'll do something, anything.

Still, you can't help but notice there was something off about last night's mysterious visitor. He didn't quite strike you to be anything like Alfons. Not that you want to spend too much time thinking about what he's supposed to be like down there, or the specific mannerisms you can tell him by, or…

Suddenly there's movement and you hold your breath in anticipation as you prepare to look down.

This is…definitely not the same cock.

This can't be.

Without thinking much, you grab a hold of the sizeable appendage as if to explore it more. Maybe the limited light is playing tricks on you.

Your thumb grazes a slightly protruding vein on the side, something you might have missed yesterday, or you might have not. Though the visual difference is becoming less and less the more you overthink it, the feeling of it in your warm palm is notably different. You don't even know how you get on your knees, but you try to make the most of the new angle.

The stranger, whoever he might be, seems to enjoy the way you're fooling around, much to your own surprise. Almost as if he wants to encourage you to explore more, to do whatever you want. Soon enough it becomes awkward to just examine him like that when he's probably here to feel pleasure. Even in your stubbornness to recognize him as the man from last night, you start stroking and massaging the girth in your closed fist. Stimulating the sensitive skin on the head makes it pulse so tantalizingly, and running the fingertip of your other thumb down the protruding vein almost tips him over the edge…You don't mind this reaction. What's more, you pretty much want to finish what you started.

Unexpectedly, the length of the stranger's cock retracts almost completely back inside the hole with just its head sticking out. The sturdy repetitive motion indicates that the man is taking care of himself while still giving you access to the product of his upcoming climax.

What does he want you to do with his cum? Does he want to paint your open palms white, or maybe if he could say so, he would prefer to color your lips white with his come?

The moment he finishes with what seems to be a glorious orgasm, your sticky fingertip has almost made it to your mouth in a rush of curiosity. You have no idea what's the use of doing something like this when he won't even be able to see it.

During your haze, you think you see a painted glossy red fingernail as you watch the cock of the stranger disappear.

You must be imagining things.

Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

You guess that the third time is saved for the shameless.

This is exactly what you are, as you find yourself kneeling on the cool tiles on another late night. The initial shock of finding yet another unfamiliar piece of flesh left at your disposal is washed away by the growing sense of thrill that you're starting to get familiar with, more with each passing night. Combined with just a little bit of "since you're already here".

You wonder how fast can you make this one cum. All this time and you're yet to use your mouth, maybe now is a good chance to try it.

Thankfully the other side knows nothing of the fever rising up to your cheeks. Not feeling eyes on you helps you be bolder with your actions, and you feel like an absolute tease. Once you pop the well-formed head in your mouth, your tongue shows no mercy to the painfully erect cock.

A few agonizing slow licks across the length of it seem to be the last straw for the stranger. But not in the sense you're expecting.

In a flash, your mouth is left to hang open and empty; like a lollipop's been taken away from you. A cold shiver runs through you. Did you go too far? Was it not to his liking?

You're not yet fully seated back on your knees in confusion before he gives you a "second chance". Almost as if you're starved, you hurry to take him in again, saliva overflowing from the corner of your mouth and lubricating him for some earnest bobbing of your head. You're going to pleasure him properly this time.

Except, this leads to the same result.

The pause is shorter now, and you get the impression that he's toying with you. Does he want you to please him, or does he not? Which one is the truth?

You fall for his tricks time and time again, because you just can't help it. Awaiting for him to stick his cock back into the hole is rather humiliating but each time your mouth salivates more with the eagerness to welcome him deep inside. He only stills when he's noticeably on the verge of orgasm, and you take him as deep as he lets you. You're a bit tense at this point - should he snap his hips and thrust further in, you're likely to choke on him.

Drinking down on every last drop of his come, you don't know why you're so relieved that his last gesture was not a lie. You just know that you're left to yourself once again. And the whole ordeal has made you horny.

Another day passes in your busy life as a fairytale keeper.

Most of the missions you're assigned are fast-paced enough to keep you fully occupied; senses being constantly put to the test, mind projecting gruesome pictures you've seen through the day and turning them into words at the end of it, once you sit in front of your typewriter.

Yet there are those little pockets of time when the world slows down for you and your fellow Crown members. Traveling from location to location; gathering in the foyer waiting for Victor… It's easy to zone out.

Your gaze moves from Liam's pretty lips curling in a small laughter as he conversates with Harrison, to Harrison stretching out while he listens; to Elbert's tall frame as he looks out the window next to them, to Alfons staring at him, putting one leg over the other as he stirs the steamy liquid in his cup. Which ones? Which ones of them have visited that place? You have very little to go off of. Someone's hand enters your field of vision. Delicate, long fingers drumming against a hard surface. You dart your gaze to another. Roughened palms. And another. Concealed by dark gloves.

Skin textures. Shoe sizes. Limbs stretching out.

It's not until someone asks you if you're alright - "You've been terribly quiet all this time!" - that you shake off your inappropriate thoughts and scold yourself for having them in the first place.

The next time you find yourself in the stall, you're almost glad to give head to someone who's clearly cutting to the chase. There's not much shuffling or repositioning from the other side of the partition, and you're able to focus on the weight in your mouth.

Tonight's stranger is no less well-endowed but you'd say he's a little more on the thicker side compared to your previous experiences. Accidentally grazing him with your teeth makes you hear an annoyed single stomp of a shoe against the floor tiles on the other side. This only motivates you to do better, and you truly do your best sucking him off.

Your ears pick up something different this time. This quick striking noise reminds you of a match being lit… Even with the task you're focused on, your senses remain sharp, and you swear you can smell cigarette smoke.

Here you are, sucking off some guy while he treats himself to a smoke. Things can't get any cruder from this point on.

But you don't mind it at all. This is of mutual interest for both parties, that's only fair. So you don't think much of it your hand makes its way down south, searching underneath layers of clothing until it finds aching hot flesh, begging to be pleasured.

Getting off to your scandalous adventures has been common practice for you the last few days, but it definitely feels better to claim your pleasure here, at the core moment of it.

The closer you get to your own orgasm, the faster your head moves back and forth. All it takes to send you over the edge is the feeling of hot cum being disposed in your welcoming mouth, and you join him by coming there on the floor, unknown to the stranger.

He loses no time removing his spent cock. You can hear the grinding of a heel as he stamps out his cigarette. And he's gone.

Now you're left to wonder why it feels so good to be used by someone on their smoke break.

Tonight sees you crossing yet another boundary.

Things are going on in a less formulaic fashion, with no hurry at all, and it's not that you're not enjoying it- quite the opposite - but you can't help being curious about something. How bad would it be if you were to gain just a little bit of pleasure for yourself from all of this? Surely you won't be found out if you were to share another piece of yourself with the stranger on the other side different from your mouth and your hands. You're far from the thought that some of the female staff don't know about this place. So you don't hesitate positioning yourself upright and facing the wall, close enough that your body is pressed against it.

You don't ask for much, just to feel that delicious hardness against your swollen folds. The very first contact shoots sparks of pure ecstasy through you. The angry-red tip of the man's cock graces against your clit and you nearly mewl out in pleasure. So you do that again, until you're practically grinding yourself on it like a tool conveniently left for your pleasure.

You'd feel selfish and guilty about this if it weren't for the fact that your actions are getting the stranger off as well. You've already slicked him up with your saliva thoroughly, given him attention which has been enough for others to reach their peak. This one seems to have a rather high endurance, but interestingly no other method of play gets him going the same way as you pleasuring yourself on him. Is this what he wants? You're afraid you're not able to stop now, at least not until you cum. Which happens all too soon, with your legs shaking from overstimulation as the cock underneath you remains swollen and upright and poking your folds again and again while you try to catch your breath.

And then he cums. Just like that, without assistance from your side… Or maybe it's your pleasure that did it for him? This is a strange one, for sure… But you like him.

The cock you're currently stoking with both hands is long and elegant, with a rather pale complexion, further emphasized by the blue-ish veins at the base. You can't help but be gracious with your ministrations as you pleasure it, and surely enough, it doesn't take enough to push the man it belongs to over the edge. He spills thickly in your hands and you kiss the tip of it, careful as not to overstimulate it too much… But when you expect an early end to tonight's rendezvous, it seems like it's far from it. Without any indication of him leaving, you realize he's still pretty much hard. So you resume your actions, albeit timidly at first.

It quickly turns into you full-on sucking him off, seeing that your hands won't be enough anymore. His ample length is a little too much for you to take, so you're relieved once he successfully fills your mouth of his cum, a lot less thicker this time. Except, it's still not over. Such a greedy bastard, exploiting you for greater and greater pleasures each time.

Taking in a large portion of breath and exhaling slowly while you contemplate something, you finally decide to take the next step. You can do what you did last night… but facing the other way around, and maybe, just maybe adding a little bit of penetration to the mix.

It takes little effort nesting him inside your tight core because of how wet you've gotten in the meantime, much to your own surprise. Fine, you can be greedy too. Leaning forward until your palms are flat against the opposite wall of the cramped room, you soon fall into a steady pace fucking yourself back and forth on the man's cock that's once again rock solid and pulsing deliciously inside you.

Despite the high libido of the man, he prefers remaining rather still while you move your hips on him, never breaking his reserved and elegant stance. Huffing out a weary emission of air as you're left to shoulder all of the work, you focus on your own pleasure instead, since you're on the verge of cumming.

Your orgasm is rudely interrupted by the other party's own orgasm as he slips out of you and sprays your aching folds with his emission. Already having taken what he was after, he soon exits your sight, leaving you to your own devices as you finger yourself to a rather unsatisfying orgasm on the floor.

Still holding a grudge from the previous night, your storm in the restroom determined to be as ruthless as you need to be and claim your own pleasure first and foremost.

Little do you know, however, that tonight is going to be another test for you.

You're making yourself familiar with yet another stranger tonight - despite being ready to bet that it's high time you're met with a repeat - as you test the waters on this new shape presented before you. He's thicker than any of the previous men. Hell, he's thicker than anything you've ever seen. The massiveness of it in your hands and how he dwarfs them honestly intimidates you. But you remind yourself of your resolve and decide to remain firm as you slowly take things further with him.

Spending too much time on oral is not a part of the plan as you don't want him coming too soon, but you discover that it has nothing to do with your plans anyway. Fitting him inside your mouth proves to be a challenge, and the pathetic way you just soak him in saliva and withdraw every time you take a little more than his head in your mouth makes you feel embarrassed.

Slowly rising to your feet, you accept that you might have to spend a little more time in here tonight. You hope your legs can take it, as you take off your underwear and stretch yourself open for the big intrusion.

Piercing yourself on his tan cock knocks the air out of your lungs as you feel so, so full of him. Without any option but to take it slowly, you massage and grope at your forms as you try to relax your walls around him as much as you can.

Suddenly the thick knob on the wall which you've been using similarly to the previous two nights becomes rather animated as he withdraws until nearly slipping out of your tight entrance, only to quickly thrust back in. Perhaps he got bored with your excuse of a service so far. Clasping both hands around your mouth, you have no choice but to receive his thrusts, the pace quickly building up, as you have to do your best to remain on your feet. Opting for leaning on the opposite wall instead, you have to choose between balance and keeping your mouth shut, as both prove to be hard to achieve at the same time. The man thrusts in and out of you, without a care in the world, and you don't notice how your hands are sliding further and further down until you're practically bent over the tiny space.

This man is an absolute monster. Time goes by in a haze as you find yourself cumming and again around the thick cock inside you, drenching him in your juices until they begin to run down your legs and onto the tiled floor. His stamina is insane - the fact that he can keep going while you're a wrecked mess is scaring you, and you don't know how much more you can take.

When you can't move anymore to meet his thrusts, thankfully his own pace becomes broken in telltale signs of his upcoming orgasm. You need his cum inside you like a trophy. You worked hard for it.

His load is nothing short of pure virility, copious amounts flooding up your insides and joining the rest of the fluids on the floor in a display of utmost obscenity.

You barely make it to your room on your doe legs.

The previous night left you with a pleasant soreness between your legs and the size you're working with today is too big for you to even think about repeating the same scenario. It's gifted in length; pinkish and with a lot of foreskin. Another new one, much to your surprise. And another absolute monster of a cock.

Since your wrecked pussy is off-limits, you begin to worry about pleasuring this one - especially when you think back to how utterly greedy the last two visitors were.

An idea pops into your head.

You start off with the usual, lubricating the shaft with the wetness of your tongue as you suck, massage and kiss every sensitive spot. And there seem to be plenty of them. It's been some time since you've had such a receptive cock in your hands. It's quite lively with its constant little twitches as you get distracted taking it further in your mouth, almost gagging on its generous length. But enough of that.

Using one hand, you unbutton your shirt while simultaneously stoking the cock in front of you, not wanting to ignore him for a second. Once your breasts are freed, keep your kneeling position but get closer to the wall, hotness rising to your cheeks. Carefully, you guide the large cock to the valley of your breasts.

Another enthusiastic twitch. It's like he falls inlove with your idea right off the bat.

You're happy to see that this works with him to say the least, trying to move your body up and down as you press your breasts together using both hands. The slickness you coated him with provides a nice slide, but for a good measure, you drool down some more of it, watching the erotic display of his cockhead peeking through the gap of your tits on every slide.

Oh, this one is more than enthusiastic. You can tell he won't last much, but you're ready to blame that on the method you use on him more than anything. Is he a boobs man? Would he be just as enthusiastic if you were to let him fuck the crux of your thighs?

"Ahhh! Nghh…"

You freeze for a split second as you swear you hear an audible moan from the other side. Everyone so far has shown so much self-control and was careful as to not let out a sound too loud, and yet this one seems to be unable to hold back.

Needless to say, it motivates you.

You don’t even have to keep going for much longer until the cock between your squeezed breasts erupts and paints your chest white. You lean your head down just a little bit more and you're able to give his angry-red tip a playful lick for goodbye. There's no urgency to satisfying your own need, as you're better off taking care of it in the plush covers of your bed back in your room, for a change. Somehow you're sure that your playmate for the night would have wanted that for you too if he could speak.

With a little over a week's worth of sinful adventures behind your back, you feel the need to take a moment and question how you got here. As scandalous as it is to think that there have been eight different members of Crown visiting that shady place for the same dirty purpose, you strangely find peace in the fact that there's at least one of them you're yet to have come in contact to, in this way.

In this very moment, you're still able to face each one of them individually and not die out of shame, because he could be the one.

So you have to leave it at all. For the sake of your sanity, you have to refrain from going anywhere close to that restroom again.

The cackle of the typewriter dies down as you're ready with the evening's workload of documenting Crown's missions, and now the call of your bed is all too strong to resist. You throw yourself face-first into the soft duvet and realize how cool and nice it feels against your skin. Have you overworked yourself, or is this heat trying to tell you something else? A familiar urge builds up in your lower belly, and you open your eyes just to see the wall clock's hands marking exactly eleven o'clock.

With the material you've gathered from those past days, it should be easy enough for you to find relief on your own. So once your hands slip inside your panties, each finding a point of interest, already soaked in liquid desire, your mind drifts off to a familiar place.

But nothing seems to work. As exciting as everything that has happened to you has been, it's nothing compared to the real thing. Since when you've become like this? A thrill-chaser, being only after what feels good without a care in the world. Much like a certain someone that got you in this mess, to begin with. And now there's a dangerous thought creeping into your head.

It's more of a gamble, to be fair.

Nine nights. The chance of all nine men visiting the hole one after another without a single one of them repeating or skipping is significantly small. Small enough to bet your dignity on it, it seems. Fingers still glistening with juices, you make a bold decision, telling yourself that if anything, you can try and resist touching the final ninth man, should he turn out to be tonight's visitor.

The hole in the wall is not occupied, and you admit to yourself that you feel disappointed. You're close to turning on your toes and going back to where you came from, but then you hear footsteps approaching, on the other side. Sleek dress shoes, if you're correct. He's taking his time.

Where you expect to find someone's aching hardness, you find an entirely different body part. You stare down in confusion as you see a gloved hand thrust out through the hole.

"I know you're in there. Why so hesitant?"

This is…Alfons' voice.

But why? It's taboo to break anonymity like this, and he's wrong if he thinks that you'd—

"You can remain silent if you wish, of course, given that you can hear me at all. Though I have this feeling that this might be no other than Miss Robin herself."

Your head gets dizzy. How does he...? No, you shouldn’t fall for it.

After a moment spent in silence, he chuckles.

"Of course you won't answer me. If you're wondering why I'm revealing myself, I'd simply tell you that not all of us are ashamed to admit they have needs, little Robin. Why, I'm sure the person supposed to be on your side of the wall must have far greater needs, no? That's why I decided to be generous tonight and offer nothing but pleasure to that lucky individual. Go ahead, I'm lending you a hand."

Clad in a shiny black glove, Alfons' hand makes a sultry come-hither motion at you, and you swear it looks lewder somehow than if he'd left you with something other than his hand instead. Your folds are still dripping, the heat in your lower belly prompting irritating tingles all over. It would be oh-so-easy to lift your skirts and descent right on his ready palm, your pussy already bare as you left your underwear all the way back in your room.

Hesitantly, you approach the wall and do just that, shivering a little at the unfamiliar texture. But unlike the solid slabs of flesh you've taken the previous nights, Alfons' fingers don’t behave. They don't wait to be ridden to completion while you get used to their shape in your insides. Right from the beginning, Alfons zaps and twists his fingers inside you, discrediting the generosity he so fondly talked about just a minute ago. It's exactly what you tried to achieve alone in your bed. But deeper. And so much more relentless. And exactly what you've been missing.

"That's a good girl. You're taking them in so greedily."

The naughty sounds of your juices muffle most of your whimpers as the flat of his palm repeatedly hits against your swollen lips. Even through the glove, he's scarily precise. He aims for your sweet spots and makes you see stars in no time, until you can no longer find meaning in the dirty things he says.

"Aww, are you squirting on me already? Here I was ready to bet you'd need far more than that. Have those gentlemen been neglecting you? Did you find them rather lacking?"

You hear the sound of water hitting the tiles but you pay little mind to it as Alfons keeps grinding his middle and ring fingers against your sweet spot, scratching something inside you that's been tormenting you for a week straight. You have no name for this feeling. You just know that he ruined you from the very beginning, by telling you about this place, by luring you in here.

The only thing you can think about as you succumb to a violent storm of an orgasm is how much better his cock would feel hitting that same place inside you. How long does he intend on keeping you here, if this is how you start out? The whole night? Would he want to make you do something perverse, fitting of his ways? You care little about that as pleasure spreads all over, making you feel so light.

You immediately get down on your hands and knees, a wicked idea on your mind already, as you're ready to deviously entice him by licking his digits clean. But they disappear before you get the chance to, making you almost whine at the loss. Your pussy still throbs, so well taken care of, yet so neglected at the same time.

"Now, wouldn't you like to finally see for yourself? If I'm one of them, I mean. The ones you've already seen here before."

Blinking your eyes, you feel the weight of his words coming down on you. You've completely forgotten about that at this point.

Even without being able to see him, just being able to pin a name to the person behind the wall makes you imagine everything so clearly. The facial expressions you've seen him do, how he reacts to certain things. The piercing stare of those dead fish eyes when he knows he's right.

"Too bad I'm not in the mood for that tonight. I guess that leaves you no choice but to come here again if you truly want to find out the answer to that question, no?"

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missaengg · 3 months ago

Text

Foolish Lil Birdie

Day 30 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Ikemen Villains | Jude Jazza x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, pwp, somnophilia, cunnilingus, creampie, p in v sex, body worship, some angst if you squint, soft Jude Prompts: Cockwarming/Somnophilia | “You feel so good. I don't ever want to stop.” A/N: Wanted to try something a little different with Jude. He has these moments of tenderness when reading through his POV stories, and I couldn't help, but wonder how he might be if he knew Kate wasn't awake... hence, soft Jude :P ao3 link here.

“I want you to use your powers on me, and then… and then have your way with me.”

Jude faltered, the words coming out of your mouth so unexpected, he was rendered speechless… and Jude was rarely speechless because he was rarely flustered, except apparently when it came to you.

Of course… of course a foolish lil birdie like you would make such a dangerous, outrageously lewd request.

“Ya realize what yer askin’, princess?”

You answered with a serene little “I do” and nothing else.

Jude found himself absolutely bewildered. You knew what sort of sadistic, twisted man he was, yet you were still willing to place yourself into such a vulnerable position with him.

“And what if I decide to do somethin’ depraved to ya?”

You simply smiled at him, that sweet, naive smile that just proved how little you knew of the evil in this world. “I trust you, Jude.”

Jude sighed, exasperated, but it came out as an aggravated growl. Of course he could trust you to say something so… so infuriating. A desire to teach you a lesson bubbled to the surface, itching to address your biggest flaw.

Your trust.

You were too damn trusting.

Which was how you ended up as Crown’s Fairytale Keeper in the first place.

“Ya sure about that?” he snapped.

The trust shimmering in your kind eyes stoked his rising ire. Ever since you joined Crown, Jude could tell you’d be eaten alive by life’s cruelty, but no matter how hard he tried to teach you, no matter what callous punishments he gave, you always just looked at him with those wide, trusting eyes.

So damn bright and kind and pure.

“Jude…” you reached up and lovingly cupped his cheek, “I know you won’t hurt me.”

There it was, your blind, unwavering trust in him. One he didn’t deserve. Because you were too good for him. Too good for this dark world he inhabited.

“Tch… ya really got no sense of self-preservation, do ya?” he grumbled, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t sorely tempted to see you peacefully lying there, unprotected, dreaming a dream of him… perhaps. “Ya asked for it, princess. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Your smile widened, and Jude clicked his tongue, annoyed, yet aroused.

He didn’t bother warning you. It wasn’t his style, and when he placed his bony hand on your head, your eyes fluttered closed and your breathing fell into a slow, steady rhythm, your chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

You still had a tiny, sweet smile on your lips. Jude wanted to kill it… or kiss it… or some strange combination of both. He lightly brushed your hair off your forehead with more tenderness than he intended and ran his fingers through your silky hair, smoothing it back.

You slept like you were dead, but the rise and fall of your chest and your beating heart beneath his palm were proof you were still breathing.

“Gonna make ya regret this…” he gruffly said, but his touch said something different.

He placed his large hand on your cheek, feeling how soft and warm you were under his palm, and he pressed his thin lips to yours in a chaste kiss.

You were beautiful.

And you were all his.

Devotedly, maddeningly all his.

He slipped off your blouse and your skirt, cradling your body in his arms as he pulled the fabric away, leaving you bare and exposed for his wavering gaze to take in. He trailed his amethyst eyes down your sleeping body, all the way to your toes, a sight he had seen before, but never in an intimate setting like this.

And as if you could tell he was admiring you, you shivered delightfully, the corners of your lips curling up as if you were pleased.

Jude reached for your plush breasts, ones he’d on a normal basis brutally squeeze until you cried out in pain, but today… today he ached to have them in his mouth, to taste them with his tongue, and to nibble your delectable firm nipples between his teeth.

Gently kneading the plump flesh of one with his palm, his thumb brushing the pert peak, he popped the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the bump. He sucked on your soft flesh, marking your skin with red bruises, a parting gift of the wet kisses he was leaving behind. Jude closed his eyes and quietly groaned. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched them, but it was the first time he truly enjoyed them, allowing himself to relish them without any biting or pinching or pain.

You let out a delicious, little moan, and Jude felt himself stiffen, the strain against his pants painful, but he couldn’t relieve himself. Not yet. Not when there was still so much to explore.

“Ya like that, dontcha, ya little masochist,” he teased, but his words carried a playful fondness instead of its usual bite.

Removing himself from your heavenly breasts, Jude parted your thighs. You were on display, a feast for his darkening eyes, and he was entranced by a thin thread of your arousal stretching taut until it snapped as your lips opened. The lust he’d been holding at bay flooded him, crumbling all of his defenses in one roaring, turbulent wave. You glistened, shimmering even in the dim light, a sign of your desire for him. Ready to be taken by him.

“Ah, fuck, princess…” Jude sucked in a ragged breath. “What’re ya doin’ to me?”

He ran a finger through your folds, feeling how slick you were between his pointer and his thumb, breathless at how pliant you were being, and then nestled himself between your thighs, placing a kiss on your pink clit. He breathed you in deeply, the scent of your sweet musk clouding his sharp mind.

You smelled intoxicating.

Jude felt drunk on your smell alone, but when he dragged the tip of his tongue between your inner lips, tasting you on his tongue, he shuddered. The taste of you was just as, if not more, intoxicating than your natural scent.

He wanted, no… needed… more. He was a prisoner in the prison that was you, and he hated you for the curse you cast on him. But he didn’t hate you. He loved you, and that knowledge was enough to drive him mad.

Jude kissed your slit, delving his tongue in between every crevice, lapping your irresistible essence into his mouth. You were scorching against his lips. He ravaged you, darting, flicking, sucking, whatever he could to drink more of your pooling honeyed arousal.

He was a sweltering summer day and you were his cool breeze.

He was starved and you were his feast.

He was an addict and you were his fix.

You writhed beneath him, rocking your hips into his rampaging mouth, sultry gasps slipping enticingly from your luscious lips. Jude was caught in a dizzying storm, swept away in the whirlwind of all things you. Your scent. Your taste. Your voice.

As you coiled tight and let go, Jude became exceedingly aware of the unbearable strain between his legs, the throbbing bulge in his pants begging to be freed, and oh, how he ached to be nestled in your gorgeous, puffy cunt.

Jude rested his forehead against your inner thigh, breathing heavily, his head and his heart wrestling for control. He was disgusted with himself at how he worshiped your body, at how careful he was being with you when he should be pushing you away because you deserved so much more than what he could give.

You deserved to be safe, to have the mundanity of normal life, to meet someone kind and get married and have children.

All things you could never have with him.

“Fuck,” Jude growled.

He told himself not to continue, to go back to pushing you away from Crown, from this violent life… from him. Even as he said these things to himself, he realized, he never made himself promise to stay away from you, maybe because deep down he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that promise.

But… his Curse had you out cold, and he still had time, time to have a little bit more of you without his head getting in the way.

You wouldn’t remember anything when you woke up anyway.

His body moved on its own. Before he could restrain himself, he was tearing off his clothes, desperate to feel you envelop his needy cock, to feel you wrapped in his embrace.

Jude slid in slowly, groaning as you readily sucked him in, coming to a stop when he was completely buried. He closed his eyes, taking a moment to relish how warm you felt wrapped around his greedy cock.

He knew this would be the first and last time he’d allow himself to be gentle with you, and the thought strangely anguished him.

“Ya feel so good. I don't ever want to stop,” he murmured, grazing feathery kisses along your brow.

He gazed down at you, memorizing every detail of your face in his mind, taking in the pretty, rosy flush on your cheeks, the light sheen of sweat on your brow, the soft part of your lips, the tangled mess of your hair…

He’d be back to being his twisted, deranged self when you awakened.

“Ah, shit,” he quietly whispered to himself.

Jude rolled his hips, thrusting in and out with ease with how wet you were for him, the thought both inflaming and thrilling, and incensed, he nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck, biting down into the skin, directing all of his anger and frustration with himself and with you into the only angry mark of the evening.

His mouth glued to your neck, he increased his pace, rasping grunts sharply expelling from his throat. The friction of his tip dragging along your walls drove him insane, his composure, which was already hanging on by a very thin thread, unraveling.

“Jude,” you breathlessly moaned in your sleep.

While Jude enjoyed tormenting you senseless into a trembling puddle, hearing you so ardently moan his name ruined him, and as you cried out, arching your back, Jude felt himself explode, pulsing wave after wave of his cum, spilling into you urgently, his vision fading to black.

He remained still, long enough for his breathing to return to normal, and then he burst into sardonic laughter, shaking on top of your prone form.

“Hopeless,” he muttered through his derisive snorts. “So goddamn hopeless.”

He rolled off of you, covering you with a blanket, and opened the window, lighting a cigarette. The room was dark, the sun having set not too long ago. Jude stared broodingly out into the dark outline of the castle garden, blowing smoke into the cool air.

He knew he had to let you go. He knew, but still a part of him wretchedly yearned to hold onto you and never free you from his grip. Selfish. He was being selfish. He contemptuously smirked. A true villain.

“Jude?” your dreamy voice called out.

Jude turned to face you. You were blinking away the haze of sleep, the blanket falling from your shoulders as you sat up. Jude snickered to himself. Your hair was a bird’s nest, tangled and matted from where it was touching the bed.

Tossing out his cigarette, Jude crossed back over to join you on the bed, and roughly yanked his fingers through your hair. It was always bedhead with you.

“Welcome back, princess,” Jude said mockingly, his trademark wicked smirk back on his lips, his sadistic mask settling back into place. “Feelin’ refreshed?”

“Is it over?”

Trust you to say something so silly after asking to be used like a doll.

“Tch… don’t remember a thing, do ya? You get off on that kinda stuff, dontcha, ya nasty woman.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

Jude paused, and his eyes narrowed. He could’ve done anything to you while you were asleep… anything… and you were acting overjoyed, asking if he enjoyed doing what he wanted to you without your knowledge. Jude scowled, feeling the tendrils of irritation hook into his heart, but he wavered seeing the pure, stupid joy in your eyes.

Gruffly sighing, he grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Come on, princess, I’ll help ya get cleaned up. Least I can do for lettin’ me use ya like a ragdoll.”

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