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sister-lucifer · 8 months ago

Text

Genre: Smut

Summary: Tim is dazed and confused after wandering through these cursed woods for who knows how long, when he encounters a mysterious figure on the dark waters of the lake.

Content/Warnings: Male reader, frottage, oral sex, the story is from Tim’s POV, the siren is referred to with it/its pronouns, some mystery/horror/unsettling elements, the siren has a prehensile penis, masturbation, attempted/near drowning, underwater ejaculation, it’s left up to interpretation whether or not this actually happened or was just a hallucination, sort of hypnosis I guess? Not really sure what to call it but use of siren song powers

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Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors.

Tim isn’t sure how long he’s been walking. It feels like the night has gone on forever, his boots caked in mud from hours of wandering without any vestige of an intended destination. He isn’t sure how long he’s been in these god forsaken woods at all. His frustration and anger have long since melted away to exhaustion, the endless trees silently mocking him as they watch him struggle to pull himself towards a freedom he cannot see. This entire plane of existence is a cruel, horridly sentient monster of phantasmagorical insanity built to break the minds of any who enter, and he can feel the cracks starting to grow throughout his tortured psyche like a starving parasite threatening to encompass him fully.

It feels like his body is rotting.

Like the muscle is sloughing off the bone with every move he makes, joints aching and falling apart as he forces himself to keep going. The night air is thick with the heat and humidity of the summer, threatening to suffocate him with every inhale. Sweat clings to his clothes and his body like a heavy blanket that only serves to weigh him down even more.

He’s not sure how much he has left in him.

Everything looks the same, nothing but trees in all directions for impossible distances. He hasn’t even seen another animal, no sign of life beyond the green. He’s starting to lose his vision, sight blurring and distorting in the kaleidoscope of leaves that the moonlight filters through.

Finally the burn in his legs forces him to come to a stop. His chest is heaving when he falls to his knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. He doesn’t have time to stop.

He’s still for only a second before the raging swill of his thoughts becomes far too loud for his comfort. They scream at him for his foolishness, for his stupidity in getting himself lost this badly, in walking right into the waiting maw of the stalking creature he’s been running from like a lobotomized rabbit to the wolf. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

The ringing in his ears gradually subsides as his breathing levels out. He pushes down his emotions in favor of keeping himself calm; panic will only doom him further. He has to stay in his right mind if he ever wants to get out of here.

Then, a sound pierces through his clouded mind like the sharpened point of a needle. A sound, finally, other than the noise of his boots on the grass and his heavy breathing.

Water.

The sound of water lapping at the shore.

He’s managed to wander his way to the lake.

He stands so quickly he nearly falls over, looking around as he discerns where the sound is coming from. He turns to his left, then to his right, ultimately deciding on the former. His walk quickly turns into a frantic sprint.

The noise gets louder, calling to him that he’s chosen the right direction. He runs faster. The green is starting to thin, he can see something getting closer, he is so damn close—

It takes everything in him not to collapse under the weight of his insurmountable relief when he emerges from the trees to be greeted with the reflection of the moon on the water.

He rushes to the shore, nearly tripping and tumbling down the bank as he makes a frantic dash for the lake. He stops at the edge, kneeling and pushing his hands beneath the surface, gasping softly when the cool water runs over his hands.

It’s real.

He’s not imagining this, it’s real.

A gravely but triumphant laugh bubbles up from his throat as he basks in his victory. Finally, finally he’s freed himself from the prison of trees, even if he hasn’t found his way back home. He cups the water in his hands and takes a drink, not caring to even consider how dirty the lake might be; that doesn’t matter nearly as much as the cool relief that washes over his dry throat. He splashes a bit of water on his face for good measure, soaking the front of his jacket and granting him some reprieve from the hot, muggy night air.

For a brief moment he debates taking a swim, but quickly shoots the idea down. The lake is vast and dark, he doesn’t trust it enough to let it engulf him entirely. Not to mention the idea of swimming with such a sore and exhausted body isn’t very appealing.

He looks up and around, thinking that surely there must be some way to cool off without taking the plunge. His eyes land on a wooden dock some ways away, not too far of a walk.

…That’ll work.

He makes his way over to the dock, stepping onto it cautiously to test its strength. It creaks a bit, but gives no real protest as he walks down its length, stopping to sit down at the end. He unlaces his boots and sets them at his side before stowing his socks away inside them. He rolls up the legs of his jeans before allowing his feet to dangle over the side, the water reaching up to soothe his sore calves. He lets his head fall back when he sighs with relief, finally allowing himself to relax. He moves to lay back on the dock, folding his hands over his stomach and taking a deep breath.

Finally, a fucking break.

No, it doesn’t solve all his problems—he’s still stuck here, after all—but Goddamn is it nice to finally be able to breathe.

For just a moment, everything is peaceful. Tim even lets himself forget the hell he’s trapped in at present, focusing instead on the feeling of the water gently cooling his legs. It’s nostalgic, almost—reminds him of when he used to sneak out to the pond behind his house to drink with his high school friends. It’s a fleeting comfort, but an appreciated one nonetheless.

He lays still there until the frantic thudding of his heart slowly reduces itself to a steady beating, until the ringing in his ears quiets fully and he breathe without a struggle. He feels much lighter now that there’s not so much strain on his muscles and joints. He even lets himself close his eyes, just for a moment, the stars shining on the backs of his lids before fading into the dark.

He debates going to sleep right here. It’s not a good idea, no, but it’s a tempting one, and much more appealing than sleeping in the dirt. He’s too open here, though, too exposed; he couldn’t hide in a timely manner if the need were the arise. No, no sleep yet, no matter how badly he needs it. Just rest.

Just enough rest for him to keep going.

That’s all he can safely grant himself at the moment.

And for now, that’s okay.

Just this brief peace is enough after the ordeal he’s been put through.

He focuses in on his breathing, counting his breaths as he inhales and exhales slowly, keeping the rhythm steady as he takes in the gentle quiet of the surrounding world that, for once, has gone still, relieving him of the heavy burden of survival…

…Only for the sudden sound of something splashing into the lake to jolt him out of his calm.

His eyes shoot open and he sits up so quick he gets a bit lightheaded. He looks around, frantically trying to find the source of the sound and preparing to grab his boots and make a run for it. He stops when he catches sight of…something that has settled on top of a rock in the middle of the lake.

He pauses, squinting through the fog that has now settled over the water.

Was the fog always there?

Could it have moved in that fast?

Damn, how long has he even been here?

He pushes the questions away for now, too focused on trying to discern what the hell he’s looking at.

Then, as if it can feel his eyes, the figure move. Tim can’t see it very well, but he too can feel it staring back just before it dives into the water.

“…What in the fuck?” he mumbles, unable to conjure any other response.

What the hell was that thing?

Couldn’t have been a fish, but it didn’t look like any waterfowl or turtle he’d seen. A gator, maybe? No, unlikely—too fast and too damn tall to be a gator.

He looks down at his feet, his legs still submerged in the water.

He really should pull them back out. No telling what that thing was.

He should leave all together, in all honesty, he needs to keep moving…

…So why won’t he?

He swallows hard, eyes cast down at his still legs. He kicks them in the water a bit, but can’t bring himself to pull them back out. Surely by now he should have enough willpower to pull himself away from this…

He winces a bit as the ringing in his ears suddenly returns with an acute fervor.

No, wait…not ringing. Some other high pitched noise, something more melodic that starts to melt into the ambience.

…Music?

No, it can’t be, but he isn’t able to come up with any other name for it, especially with the fog that’s suddenly thickening in his mind, clouding his thoughts like the mist on the water clouds his vision. He rubs his eyes and looks out over the water again. The figure, that creature is gone, and the rock it was perching on is rapidly fading away into the fog.

This is bad. He has to get out of here, right now, before something terrible—

He gasps, nearly jumping out of his skin as something splashes in the water a short distance to his left. He looks over quickly, but all he sees is the ripples on the surface left behind by something diving down into the lake.

There’s no doubt about it now.

Something is in the lake, and it’s getting closer.

He tries to make his body move, to get up out of the water and onto the dock, but he’s frozen. The more he tries, the more his mind screams at him to do something, the louder the music gets. echoing in his brain and drowning out any voice of reason. The sound is clearer now, a high pitched vocalization carrying a tune that feels so familiar, like something out of his childhood dripping with a viscous nostalgia that clogs his throat and sticks to the back of his teeth.

Something splashes again, but with the operatic voice forcing its way into his mind he can’t discern which direction it was. All he knows is it was closer.

Tim scans the water frantically, but the fog has covered the everything. He can hardly see ten feet in front of him. It feels like the cloudy mist is closing in on him with a purpose, with intent, like this was planned.

His heart nearly stops when he looks down at his feet, only to see a glowing pair of eyes looking back at him from just beneath the water.

He flinches, but can’t bring himself to pull back. He’s frozen, like something is holding him in place and forcing him to keep eye contact with this creature. The music is the only thing he can hear. The noise of the crickets and the water and the wind are completely gone, completely overtake by the singing.

Tim watches, completely mesmerized as the creature slowly rises, breaching the water’s surface with wildly unnatural grace. Tim’s eyes widen in shock and awe as more and more of the creature’s form is revealed, its body revealed to him inch by inch, allowing him to take it in.

The creatures skin is an unsettling greenish-grey, with pulsating gills that gasp softly on the sides of its torso and neck. Its impossibly long hair, tangled with leafy plants, creates a curtain around its face that hides its visage in shadows and cascades down its shoulders and into the water, as if it goes on forever. Tim’s eyes trail downward towards where the legs should be, but he finds none. Instead, the creatures body fades into iridescent scales that reflect the moonlight in a kaleidoscope of colors that swirl in his brown eyes. Anything beyond the top half is hidden by the dark water, but he can imagine what those scales become below the surface.

He should be running.

He should’ve been far, far away by now.

He’s not as afraid as he should be.

Why isn’t he afraid?

He doesn’t have time consider the question before the echo of the singing starts to quiet down. It doesn’t go away, no, but it’s morphing into something else…

Tim watches as the creature swims closer, webbed hands reaching out to grasp his thighs with an unexpected gentleness. He sucks in a breath at the creature’s cold touch, the water on its palms soaking through his rolled up jeans. He realizes now that it’s closer that it’s humming, the soft sound buzzing in its throat with the same tune as the echo of the singing before it.

The humming is far more soothing than it has any right to be. Tim should be fighting this thing off, pushing it away as it leans in to hum right into his ear, its scent of lake water and fresh plants filling his nose, but he can’t. He just can’t.

The creature’s skin is cool and soft against his own, wetting his cheek with the water clinging to its hair and face. Its chest brushes his for a moment, and he shudders, though not with disgust. His mind is swimming, completely melted into a useless sludge that refuses to form a thought. He knows he shouldbe terrified right now, he should be running for his life, but it’s getting harder and harder to articulate why.

He breaths deeply, inhaling the creature’s earthy scent as its ghostly voice seeps into the deepest recesses of his brain.

Oh, God…

That feels good.

He can feel the creature, the siren slowly stripping him of his defenses, peeling the armor off of his carefully guarded psyche piece by piece, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He’s not sure he wants to stop it. The sensation of his will being broken down, chipped away at by a skilled hand with a chisel of forged steel that leaves no room for argument; it’s almost comforting.

Tim has spent so long fighting…

…Why shouldn’t he just give in this once?

The thought rattles around his skull and echoes in such a way that he’s aware it wasn’t entirely his idea, but he doesn’t care. It’s a beautiful epiphany.

His vision is starting to blur. Most of his senses, in fact, are dulling at what should be an alarming rate. The only thing left in tact, maybe even amplified, is his ability to feel.

The siren’s touch is intoxicating.

He’s starting to lose himself.

Tim shudders as something warm and wet slides over his neck, moving in a manner that is far too articulated. The siren pulls back, licking its lips, and for a moment Tim thinks he can see it mouth the word ‘delicious.’

The siren leans in again, this time for a slow kiss on the lips. Tim is stunned at the gesture, but can’t stop himself from kissing back. It’s almost a subconscious action, a base instinct activated by the siren song buzzing in his head.

The kiss is far from brief, but it doesn’t last nearly long enough to satisfy Tim. He leans forward to try and follow the siren as it pulls away, but it pushes him back with a gentle hand and a cheeky grin. It playfully wags a finger, silently scolding him with only a look from those piercing eyes.

The siren starts to move lower, and for a moment Tim is afraid it’s about to dive back into the lake, never to be seen again, but instead it stops once it’s at eye level with his groin. Tim sucks in a breath, which only makes the siren’s grin grow wider. Tim catches a split second glance of the shiny teeth that are kept behind its upturned lips.

The siren’s webbed hands slide inward from where they rest on Tim’s thighs, lazily meandering to the buckle of his belt. The siren’s humming doesn’t cease for even a moment as its nimble fingers slip his belt from the buckle and then from the loops of his jeans with an unnatural grace. It sets the belt to the side on the dock, right next to his boots, making it clear that Tim won’t be needing it anymore.

Tim’s breath hitches when the siren pulls his zipper down, moving slowly but with intent. It’s teasing him, he realizes in a fleeting moment of clarity, making him wait for whatever it is it knows he wants. His eyes trail down as the siren tugs his jeans down just a bit, enough to expose his half hard cock as it pushes against his boxers. He didn’t even realized how turned on he was.

Tim bites his lip as the siren’s agile tongue unfurls from its mouth to lick over the bulge in his boxers. He shivers, barely biting back a moan. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come; there’s only a brief stammer before his lips close again, the eyes of the siren drawing him into silent submission. It hasn’t looked away from his face this entire time, refusing to release his gaze. It holds eye contact even as it leans in again, this time latching onto Tim’s hardening bulge with its lips and suckling it through the fabric of his boxers.

This time Tim can’t stop the noise that falls from his mouth, a choked sound of pleasure that would surely be humiliating if he had any sense left. Right now all he can think about is how badly he wants more.

The siren’s hands move again, upwards this time, towards the waistband of his boxers. It hooks its claws beneath the fabric and pulls downward slowly, just enough to release Tim’s now throbbing, needy erection from its confines. He sighs with relief at the feeling. He didn’t realize until now how badly he needed that.

The siren wastes no time wrapping its tongue around Tim’s length, and this time there’s no stopping the shuddering moan that crawls up his throat. The siren’s tongue is impossibly long, moving with complete control as though it were another limb; it leaves no spot of Tim’s cock untouched, coating every bump and vein with the siren’s cool, thick saliva. Tim’s thighs tremble as he watches the creature pleasure him shamelessly, its tongue coiling around his twitching member and sliding up and down the entirety of his length with intent.

The siren has stopped humming, unable to do so with its mouth occupied, but its song still echoes in the trees around them, keeping Tim docile and needy.

Hesitantly he reaches up, his hand shaking like a leaf in the wind as he moves it towards the siren. For just a moment a look of intrigue flashes in the creature’s eyes, but it quickly morphs into smug satisfaction as Tim’s fingers find themselves nestled into the siren’s hair.

The siren’s tongue retracts suddenly. Tim’s eyes widen as a question begins to form in his mind as to why, but it’s promptly stamped out when the siren wraps its lips around his cock and sinks its mouth down on him without hesitation. Tim nearly screams, crying out in shock and pleasure before choking on his own voice. The gills on the siren’s neck flex and breathe as his cock is pushed down its slick, invitingly warm throat. The cavity welcomes him happily, as though it was molded to fit his cock perfectly.

Tim’s fingers twitch as his grip tightens on the siren’s hair, silently begging for more. The creature complies, running its tongue up and down his length without so much as coming up for air. It uses every part its mouth and throat to stimulate his length with a sharp focus.

One of the siren’s hands slides off of its resting place on Tim’s thigh. It trails down his leg before leaving his body completely, dipping down into the water. Tim follows it with his eyes curiously, watching as the siren reaches down to lightly rub at a spot on the front of its tail. Tim quirks a brow, but quickly realizes what’s happening as the scales part to reveal a fleshy slit, a sheath from which what Tim can only assume is some kind of inhuman cock slides out. It’s visibly slick, almost slimy, and moves much like the siren’s tongue. He can feel the creature let out a soft noise around his cock as it wraps its hand around its length. It’s pleasuring itself, Tim thinks, pleasuring itself to him.

The siren’s free hand grasps onto his jacket for balance, keeping it upright as it floats in the water. It’s found a steady rhythm in the way it bobs its head up and down on Tim’s length, slowly pulling back and pushing forward just as the water laps at the shore in a lazy but constant manner.

Tim’s head falls back as a sudden wave of pleasure washes over him, making his entire body shiver with chills. He wouldn’t be able to take much more of this.

As if sensing his impending release, the siren’s pace increases. It doesn’t become vigorous or messy, only faster, swifter and even more calculated. The siren seems hyper aware of every move it makes, every muscle it flexes in its mouth and throat to make sure Tim never feels less than the utmost sense of bliss.

Tim can’t hold back his voice anymore. The soft mewls and desperate moans spill from his lips like a waterfall of debauchery that only seems to fuel the siren’s passion. Tim can’t see it with his head thrown back, but he can hear the splashing of the water getting louder and faster as the siren pumps its own cock with more fervor.

Tim’s back arches, pushing his cock into the siren’s mouth. The creature takes him so deeply its nose brushes his stomach, but it makes it seem so effortless. It knows exactly what it’s doing, and it’s working far too well. Tim doesn’t have much longer.

“I’m…I-I’m about to—“ he stammers, struggling to get the words out or even put together a coherent sentence.

The warning is a trigger for the siren. It pauses suddenly, processing the words for only a moment before it pulls off of Tim’s cock so quickly it almost hurts. Tim jumps and gasps, but doesn’t have even a split second to react before the siren grabs onto his shoulders and pulls him down into the water with it.

He thrashes in the creature’s hold, but the siren’s tail wraps around his ankles and squeezes tightly. He tries to cry out, but his efforts are punished with a mouthful of lake water that firmly halts any attempt at screaming. The lake around them is nothing more but a dark, merciless void of water without any sign of life. The only light is the dim shine of the moon that pierces the surface of the water and the glowing eyes of the siren.

Tim pushes against the creature’s hold, but it doesn’t budge. It leans in for another kiss, a rougher one that Tim fights this time, but not for long.

It’s an odd sensation, the feeling of air being forcefully pumped into his lungs from the siren’s mouth, but it lets him breathe. He can’t complain about that.

In the next instant the siren’s cock has wrapped around Tim’s, picking up right where it had left off on the dock. Little time was lost, and before Tim knows it he’s already nearing dangerously close to his release once more. He doesn’t dare pull aware from the siren’s lips to warn it, though. Surely it knows.

Just as he’d figured the siren’s length is slimy, almost tentacle like, sticking to Tim’s own cock as it writhes in coils around it. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before, making him whimper into the kiss with a need so great it’s overwhelming. The siren isn’t immune to the pleasure either; its gills and scales ripple with its impending climax.

The siren wraps its arms around Tim, gripping at his hair and the back of his jacket as it holds him in place. It’s so desperate to keep him against it.

Tim cries out into the kiss one last time before his body tenses, his climax hitting him like a truck as his cock twitches and spurts into the water. The siren lets out an odd noise, almost like a dolphin’s chitter before it follows suit, its length pulsing around Tim’s before releasing as well, the iridescent liquid hovering in the water before fading away into the darkness below them.

The siren’s cock quickly retracts, unwrapping from Tim’s softening length and pulling back into its sheath. It’s as if it were never there, the parted scales moving back to hide the slit once again.

The siren slowly pulls away, looking down at Tim with an odd expression. It’s not quite a smile, but it carries a sense of self satisfaction and mischief.

Tim expects to be let go, even kicking his legs a bit to loosen the grip the siren’s tail has on them, but the hold only tightens. Tim kicks again, trying to pull away, but this only earns him more restraint yet again. The siren pulls him into a deadly hug, slotting his body against its own and wrapping itself around Tim.

Suddenly its touch is no longer soft and welcoming. Its claws dig onto Tim’s back and shoulders through his jacket, which only serves to amplify his panic. The siren squeezes him, forcing the gifted air out of his lungs. He can only watch it escape to the surface as bubbles, unable to retrieve it.

His thrashing increases tenfold, but he’s tiring fast. The lack of air combined with his exhaustion and now the siren’s humming in his ear once again is disorienting him. He needs to fight, but his body is rapidly losing the will to do so. He’s only a man, and a man has limits.

He resists the urge to gasp as water starts to leak into his mouth. He’s losing strength by the second, not only from his body straining but also from the siren’s song draining his energy. His panic turns to pure terror as the black spots start to fill his vision.

The siren won’t let go.

He can’t fight anymore.

This was a trap.

This was all a trap.

He’s going to die here.

No, no, no—

The water is filling his lungs rapidly now as his fear overrides his rationality. He’s screaming as much as he can beneath the surface of the lake, using the last of his strength to fight, but he knows it’s pointless. It’s only bringing more water in. His vision is darkening fast, and soon the little sliver of moonlight he had is gone. All he can do is listen to the sound of the siren’s humming, but then that is starting to fade out.

No, no, no, no!

Please, God, no…

But God doesn’t come to help, and the siren’s song is barely audible as Tim’s body stills and goes limp.

This is it.

He’s sinking into something dark, now, something beyond his consciousness. It’s an indescribable feeling, but an absolute one, one that speaks of eternity and a horrible permanency.

For a moment he’s aware of his own fate, his own death…

…And then he’s coughing up water onto the sand, the bright morning sun burning his eyes.

He turns over into his side, getting onto his hands and knees as he forcefully hacks up the lake water in his lungs.

The fresh air is a godsend, quickly pushing the water out and taking its place. Tim can finally take a deep breath without drowning.

He’s back on dry land, and alive…

…but how?

He’s still dizzy, he doesn’t dare stand up yet, but he does look around in confusion. The sun has finally risen, that much is obvious; it’s warm and bright on his face, almost jarringly so. He can even hear birds chirping in the trees above him. The woods have suddenly come to life, but what feels like only an hour ago it was completely devoid of anything living.

Did all of that…really happen?

He has no idea.

He looks down at himself and realizes he’s still missing his shoes, socks, and belt. His jeans are still rolled up to his knees, and his clothes and hair are completely soaked, as evidenced by the water that drips down his forehead, legs and hands. The zipper of his pants is still down, exposing the black fabric of his boxers.

His missing clothes are nowhere to be found next to him on the shore.

Slowly his eyes trail down the lake to the dock. He squints as he looks closely, searching for the proof that that thing was real…

…And there they are. His boots, socks still rolled up inside, and his belt, sitting at the edge of the dock.

Right where he’d left them.

He stumbles to his bare feet, trudging down to the dock to retrieve his things. His boots and socks are shockingly dry, but that’s certainly not a bad thing. It’s a small comfort that he more than deserves.

He slips them back on, they looks down at his belt. For some reason, he hesitates to pick it up. He makes himself lean down to grab it, though, and takes a moment to inspect the leather in his hands.

It’s untouched. No sign of damage or wear and tear at all.

He sighs as he zips his jeans back up and pulls the belt through the loops, fastening it back in place around his waist.

He’s going to chock this up to this goddamned forest screwing with him. He has to if he wants to keep his mind from breaking in two. It’s the safest, least insane explanation he can give to himself. It’s the only thing he’s prepared to hear.

The ache in his legs returns as a dull thrum as he resigns himself to continuing his journey. It’s painful to leave behind the solace of the lake, to walk away from the soft sound of the water, but with the day’s light he’ll surely be able to find his way out of here.

He takes in a deep breath, internally psyching himself up before he dives back into the endless trees.

Only, this time, they don’t seem all that endless.

Almost instantly the sound of grass beneath Tim’s boots turns into the crunching of a rocky path. He looks down in confusion, eyes landing on beige, rocky dirt that definitely isn’t a natural formation.

The trail.

He’s found his way back to the trail.

His eyes widen as he follows the path into the trees as far as his eyes can see.

Finally, his endless effort is being rewarded.

He eagerly starts onto the trail, resisting the urge to run until he collapses. He has time, he reminds himself. The trail is a loop; he’ll get back home sooner or later.

Finally, he’s free from the terror of these woods. Whatever entity that was keeping him trapped has released him, and he’s not going to question it.

When he gets home he’ll flop down onto his bed, not even considering changing out of his filthy clothes before he does so. He’ll stare up at the ceiling with teary eyes as he thinks about how happy he is to be back home, back where it’s safe and comfortable.

Inevitably his thoughts will wander back to the creature he encountered, or perhaps imagined; it’s not exactly something one easily forgets, after all.

But for now, he’s going home.

And that’s all that matters.

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#marble hornets #masky #tim wright #masky x reader #tim wright x reader #male reader #siren reader #masky smut #marble hornets x reader #marble hornets smut #horror #slenderverse #monster reader #slenderman #the operator #tim masky

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cryptidcircuswrites · 11 months ago

Text

LEAD ME UP THE GARDEN PATH

! - dubious consent in the beginning, monsterfucking, mentions of teeth and claws, drool, pollen as an aphrodisiac, rutting, non-consensual aphrodisiac, consensual sex, t4t, PIV sex, dom bottom // sub top, mild degradation and mild pet play, jack has multiple tongues and eats pussy, Brian has a vulva and it is referred to primarily as such (clit, pussy, etc)

“Seriously, what is this?”

“It’s literally just a flower,” Toby lies, voice muffled slightly through the gas mask he’d strapped on.

“Then why are you wearing that?” Jack asks, ducking away from the flower that Toby keeps thrusting in his direction.

“Just touch the damn flower!” Toby finally gets the pink pollen-painted petals close enough to Jack’s face for them to be inhaled.

The beast coughs, sneezing. “What is that, Tobias?!” it shrieked. The human laughs.

“You’ll find out.”

•••

Brian has been stewing the entire mission. He’s been moody for days, which means he isn’t getting laid. Tim knows him too well.

The target has been taking down the cameras the two had put up for surveillance. Brian is sick of it. There’s not only the lack of eyes on the target, but also the looming threat of the Operator getting mad that the job isn’t done.

Brian slams a camera against the cement wall nearby, the device already useless. He swears under his breath.

“Brian, can you fucking relax?” Tim snaps. He lights a cigarette and slips his mask off.

“How am I supposed to relax when this fucker keeps taking down the cameras?” he steps towards Tim threateningly.

“You sound like Alex,” Tim mutters, taking a drag on his cigarette.

Brian goes to slap the cigarette out of Tim’s hand, but the stocky man stops him. “Don’t compare me to Alex, yeah, I got it. You’re still being a prick. Go home and figure out how to get Jack to fuck you, or rub one out, or whatever the fuck you need to do because I’m tired of your bitching.”

Brian stops, because he knows Tim is 100% right. He relaxes slightly, pulling away.

“Fine.”

•••

Jack is in agony.

Whatever Toby had put on that plant had shoved him dick-first into the worst rut the creature can remember. Jack can barely even think coherent thoughts. It just paces the cabin on all fours, claws clicking against the wood.

Everything is hot. Jack hasn’t felt too hot in decades, not since leaving Mexico. It pants, its back arches, desperate to alleviate any of the tension anywhere in its body. Nothing is helping.

Jack is in agony, but Brian is a quarter of a mile away, and the wind is at his back.

Jack can wait.

It is an ambush predator, after all.

Brian walks into the cabin six minutes and thirteen seconds later, kicking off his boots. Jack counted. Six minutes and thirteen seconds of agonized waiting, and only a few more as Brian shuts the door, walking further into Jack’s web.

A few more steps in, and then…

Jack pushes Brian into the wall, hard. The beast growls, saliva dripping from the corners of its lips.

Brian’s heart races. He knows Jack is dangerous, he knows what Jack is capable of. He’s seen it in action once or twice; long black claws glistening with blood as it ripped through flesh so easily, jaws swallowing chunks of meat without chewing…

Jack notices Brian’s apprehension. It rests its forehead to the human’s trilling slightly in between heavy gasps. It’s so desperately trying to convey what it can’t verbalize in this state—

Please help me. Please don’t deny me. I need you.

Brian’s lips curl into a sly grin. He relaxes, wrapping his arms around the monster’s neck and shoulders.

“Well hello to you too, mutt.”

The monster chitters, pushing against him. Grey-tinted saliva pools in its mouth, dripping down its chin. Brian presses back, bodies hot against each other.

They’ve always fit so well together. Jack slots itself between Brian’s legs, desperate for attention. It feels so right.

Brian gasps slightly at the sensation. Jack is painfully needy right now; he can feel it through everything, hot and hard and throbbing.

“What in the world has you so riled up, puppy?”

Jack twitches, hips jutting against Brian’s crotch. It whimpers. It’s practically begging like a dog for Brian to make the agony stop.

He hisses, nails digging into Jack’s shirt. “Easy baby, take it slow for me. I’ve had a rough day.”

It whimpers into his neck, then kisses up his jaw. He pulls it by the scalp up to his lips.

Jack is still too hot. Brian’s lips against its mouth is like blessed ice, something finally putting out the fire of agony raging in its very soul.

It needs more.

It grinds against the human desperately. Brian moans into the kiss, grabbing at Jack’s shirt. The kiss only breaks to pull the shirt from the monster’s body, revealing the lean and long and grey torso.

Jack goes in for another kiss, Brian stopping it.

“Uh uh. You’re not fucking me against a wall, we’re doing this on a bed.”

Jack huffs, but picks the human up anyway. It drops Brian onto the bed and continues its assault on his lips. It desperately pulls at his clothes, ripping holes with its careless desperation.

Doesn’t matter. It can be fixed later. Jack needs relief now.

And in order to do that, it needs to get Brian worked up too.

He moans deliciously as thick wet tendrils swipe over his clit and pussy. It lazily works him over, teasing his clit and flicking over his hole. He grips Jack’s scalp, grinding against its mouth. It complies, sliding a tongue just inside his wet heat. The other two tongues continue to tease and pulse around his tdick and lips. He begs and whimpers and wraps his legs around Jack’s head, begging for more.

The monstrous predator teases him, refusing the friction he so desperately needs until he breaks.

“Jack please! Fuck!”

He breaks sooner than expected.

Jack pulls its tongue out, but not away; it teases and licks to keep him going while it fumbles with its pants.

Brian gasps as Jack’s mouth presses to his skin, moving up his hips and chest and finally hovering over his mouth. Jack is still breathing heavily, but it waits for those magic words.

“Please, Jack,” he whispers.

The creature presses its lips to his, pushing its length slowly into his pussy. He moans into the kiss, both relishing the sudden relief the sensation afforded to them.

Jack is desperate again, rutting in and out of Brian like a dog in heat. Lips crash against each other, teeth find flesh, moans spill from both mouths, Brian clenches and hips roll in a needy, sloppy rhythm.

Neither lasts particularly long, Brian going first and then Jack, gushing deep inside its lover as it bites down on his throat.

•••

“Better?” Tim asks with a stupidly smug grin the next morning.

“Whatever the fuck you and Rogers pulled? Don’t do that without warning me next time,” Brian says with a mock firmness.

That mischievous glint is back in his eyes, and Tim is satisfied that his friend is back to normal.

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