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uhhhhyandere · 1 year ago

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jailbird 2

summary: ada generally makes things worse for you, for fun. For once, she makes things better. plus, a newcomer enters alcatraz. he's fine as fuck. tw: heavy mommy kink (holy shit); head (reader receiving); dirty talk

author's note: i think i have a mommy kink.

word count: 3.7k cross posted on Ao3

"That hurt so much fucking more than I thought it would,” you bemoan, legs stretched and icepack rubbing smooth circles around your poor, abused, and stretched-out cunt. Because, you know, the prison has the same healthcare system as a middle school. Fucking Officer Chambers. You knew she hated you. Head thrown back against the pillow, your eyes meet the bottom of Ada’s mattress, your face contorted in dramatized pain, and that’s saying a lot. You just had a police baton shoved up your vagina. Still, with the ice numbing your labia, it’s reduced to a dull throb now that the sun’s set and the worst has passed. You whine. “Ouchie.” Ada’s leg comes down to kick you with the rough pad of skin beneath her toes. It was imprecise since she just leaned her body down to do it, but it managed to hit you in the temple anyway. “Ouchie!” You whine again, holding your head as her foot returns to dangle off the upper bunk.

“What did you really think was going to happen?”

“I know, I know.” You pout, cheek against the pillow, and smushing against it. “But like… come on. I’d be a fucking idiot if I turned down Chris’s deal. You know that. Fucked with a baton in front of everybody in exchange for the fucking key to our cell?! How could I say no?” You hiss before you can say more, and finally take your pussy off the ice, tossing the pack to the ground to let it cool off, and so your labia don’t freeze off. That would make for terrible sex, and you can't have that.

“Say it louder,” she drawls. “And easily, if you want to know. You know they can just change the locks, right? Probably will.”

“You think I haven’t thought of that already?” You spread your legs wider. Since the prison jumpsuit is just that, you’re naked in your bunk. There’s the slight, wafting smell of sex in the air. You think it smells good, actually. Maybe panty sniffing isn’t as weird as you thought it was. Or maybe you’re a narcissist. “Master key baby.”

"He’s lying to you,” Ada says too easily. “No way he’d be able to get a copy of it to you.” You trill your lips and roll your eyes. “You honestly think Chris will be able to not only steal Wesker’s key but make a copy of it, all under his nose?”

“He’s a stand-up guy.”

“...He stuck a baton up your vagina.”

“I let him!” You could hear her roll her eyes.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“For the master key—.”

“That he’s not going to give you!” You huff.

“You are being so mean to me right now.”

“And you’re being too much of a childish brat to be in federal prison.”

“You can you blame me? My pussy feels as though I just popped out all the Duggar’s then some.” There‘s silence and shuffling, and then Ada drops to the floor, hand grabbing the support bar as she leans into your bunk. Her head cocks. How can she look so good in fluorescent orange? She belongs in Prada or Armani, not smirking down at poor self-inflicted masochist you in a jail cell, left to rot off the coast of San Fran in some recycled, tax-funded jumpsuit.

“Ah, I’m so sorry. Your pussy hurts? I had no idea.” Her tone mocks you, talks down to you. She lets go of the bed to sit on the mattress near your leg, long fingers caressing your thigh. “Tell me how bad it hurts, baby.” Oh. Your mouth opens and closes like a trout on land, like you’ve got gills. Yeah, you do have gills, and Ada’s pussy juice is your water.

“...No. I take it back. It doesn’t hurt.” The words are as tense as you are, tight. Gotta ask her what inmate waxes her brows, because when she knits them, skin folding between her brows, they’re shaped perfectly. She takes her manicured hand off your thigh. Well, mostly manicured hands. You take particular note of her middle finger, index finger, and thumb being cut short. Sly dog, her.

"Oh? I’m glad then.” She moves to get up.

“N-no, wait!” You call out, too desperate. Way too desperate. Your eyes flare wide, head shooting up and pulling your neck and spine with it. “I-I lied. It hurts.” It hurts, mommy. But you don’t speak the word, yet it bounces around your head like the most perverse pinball of all the pinballs on every 2005 desktop computer. You swallow. “It really, really hurts.”

“Tell me where it hurts, baby.” She kneels back down on the bed. Strange plus side of prison beds. They make the upper bunk very high. Ada has no problem kneeling over you, looking down with the same contained, untelling look. She may want to throw up looking at you, or she may want to ride you ‘til you’re in a Clint Eastwood film. You'd probably thank her either way.

Your elbows support you now, and you keep your head and chest propped up to keep looking at her. God, you never want to stop looking at her. Lord if you went blind right now, you’d pray you never lost his image. No, no, scratch that. Get that jumpsuit off, and maybe you can say that. You exhale a stuttering, fragile breath.

“Will you… will you make it better?” The best sex is shameless, where you set your pride aside, you learned early. You give her your best doe eyes. She may be immune to them. She may not. You’re aching to find out. Aching, and your cunt was already aching from being abused just hours earlier. Now? You can imagine the wetness, feel it against the draft of your cell. You rub your thighs together, inner thigh fat rubbing together with it. “You have to tell me what hurts first. Come on, you can tell me. You know you can.” Her lip gloss shines with her smile. Never with teeth. Showing teeth means showing weakness. Ada Wong was not weak. Her hands grab one of the many supporting beams holding her mattress up, and she leans forward, black, silky locks hanging on either side of her face. She hovers over you. “Go on, so I can make it all better.” It sounds patronizing, but so, so hot. Your cunt throbs, and you rub your thighs together more.

“It hurts here,” mommy, is the natural end of that sentence. You spread your legs as far as you could with Ada’s thighs on either side of your own. Your finger drags down your tummy through your pubes and rests on the drop-off above your clit, resting between the hairy flesh. It’s still chilly from the ice. “Right here,” mommy. Her eyes follow your finger, leaning farther and farther away from your face so she can keep track of it. “It’s killing me. Please help.”

"Awh, you’re so polite, baby.” Ada scootches back so she can rest her breasts on the mattress between your legs. Her back is arched, and her ass is lifted behind her, so far away. She examines your cunt for a moment before glancing up at you. “But you need to be more specific. Use your words, baby. What hurts?”

"My pussy hurts,” mommy. Your willpower will only last for so long on that. You crane your neck to get a better view of her, can see the way her slender shoulders taper down to her waist, then curve out with her ass. Long legs keep her backside up. “Please help me.” Each plea from you is breathy, nothing more than soft exhales.

“Your pussy?” Ada hums. “Okay, baby. I got you. I got you.” Her hot breath electrifies your cold labia. Her finger glides between your lips, and there’s a sharp intake of breath. “Oh, baby. Your pussy is so cold. Can you even feel that?” Ada hinges her finger, bringing the tip up, up, just below your clit, then back down to collect the juices pooling in your hole. You whimper.”Words, baby.”

“I feel it. I feel it,” mommy. Mommy, I feel it. Please, I want to feel more. Please let me. Please make me feel good, mommy. My pussy hurts so much. Your eyes flutter shut, head tilting back towards the ceiling. “Feel it.” Her finger circles in your hole before sliding back up to push against your clit. Muscles tight, you gasp at the contact.

“Mhm, I know. Want me to kiss it better?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. She blows a delicate, hot breath over your cold labia, and you moan. Ada then leans forward so her lips can press a soft, soft kiss to your clit. A pathetic cry sounds from the back of your throat at the gentle smooch, and you fall back onto the pillow with a soft thud. It’s fire compared to the chill of the ice. Her hum echoes through your bruised pussy. You wonder if her lip gloss is stained on your pussy lips now. “Yeah, you like that, right?” You nod, shallow and fast.

“Y-yeah, I like it.” I like it, mommy. I like it sooo much. Please kiss my clit, mommy. Tell me how good I’m doing, how pretty my pussy is. How proud of me you are for taking that baton today. You open your eyes once more. “Thank you for kissing me today.” Ada hums again, a sweet sound. She meets your eyes over your pubes and stomach and kisses your clit again, full lips pursed and lingering. You exhale once more. Oh, mommy.

“I like to kiss you, baby. I know what it does to you.” Of course, she does. Her smirk is dangerous, charming, It doesn’t reach her eyes. “Want me to give your clit some more kisses? Your poor pussy was bullied today, wasn’t she?” Ada presses a kiss against your labia. “Yeah, poor girl. Chris was so mean to you, wasn’t he?” She coos, eyes locked on your cunt. “So reckless. So careless.” Ada presses another kiss to your cunt, but her tongue slips between her lips, scooping up your taste in a quick swoop of the tongue. “Mm, baby. You taste so good, and you’re warming up for me.”

Your hands reach back for the pillow beneath your head, grabbing the underside of it, elbows bent over your head as you spread your legs wider, one hanging off the bed while the other is shoved against the wall. Your eyes are clenched shut again, hanging onto her every move, every word.

“P-please,” you whisper. Please, mommy. Please.

“Shh,” she slaps your stomach. “Not talking to you right now.” She glares up at you. “You put my favorite girl through hell today. All for that brute. If you’re not going to love her the right way, I will. She deserves love and care. Yes, you do.” Her gaze softens on your pussy. “Yeah, don’t worry. Mommy’s here.” What. What.

You gasp, but before you could even open your eyes and defend yourself, Ada licks a long path from your perineum to your clit, dragging the tip so it’s against your pelvic bone until it flicks up against your little nub.

“Hng, mommy.” You whine, face contorted like you’re about to sob. Like you’re some little baby. Yeah, her little baby. Weak and pathetic and whining for mommy, crying to her when you did something stupid and hurt yourself. Shocked at the harmful obvious consequences of your own actions, and running to mommy, expecting her help anyway. “Mommy, please—.”

“Sh, sh, sh, it’s okay, baby. Let it out.” Her breath is swallowed up by your cunt, hot against the glistening muscle. “You did so good today, baby. You were so sexy, crying and writhing on the floor.” Ada laves at your cunt, tongue flat and wide, lax as it drags upwards. “Mmmm, I wish I was the one who was doing that to you. Maybe Chris will let me borrow it, hm?” A long haaah comes with her neck lick, echoing through the emptiness of your cell. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You nod, teeth biting into your lip so hard it may burst open. “Words.”

“I-I’d love that, mommy.” You expel in a breath. “I’d love anything you do to me.” Your fingers clutch onto the pillow so hard they touch through the material.

“Yeah? You’d let mommy stuff this cunt with that baton?” Ada purses her lips, smooching your clit and sucking on it. Your shoulders down to your feet contract again. “I’d do it right, baby. I’d lube you up, make sure you enjoyed every second, instead of just forcing it in there like he did.” Ada shakes her head. “Make sure my girl’s pussy was ready for it.” Her arms wrap around your thighs, spreading and holding you open.

“P-please eat my pussy, mommy.”

“I wish I could fuck it,” she replies. “Next time.” You know she means it. “Next time, I’m going to be the one making you cry.” Her tongue makes messy and uncoordinated swipes up and down your clit, slipping into the hood before she lifts her head with one, strong suck to it. “Yeah, mommy wants to see her little girl cry for her, but not now. Let me take care of my good girl now.”

No more talking. Throwing your thighs over her shoulders, her back archs to press her face into your cunt. She works at your clit, tongue broad in one stroke then narrow in the next. Your fist covers your mouth, and your hips rise to grind against her. Ada takes it in stride, pushing back to drag her tongue down to your hole and fuck the muscle into you. Her moan comes out oscillating as your own catches in your throat.

"Oh, mommy. Mommy.” A mantra, and you hope Mother Mary isn’t listening. Not you mommy. You’re far from a virgin, and so is your mommy. Your back arched, stomach flexing out towards the ceiling, it takes all your willpower not to shove her face into you more, but that’s a no-no. Ada has limits on how much you can force her hand or mouth. Hence your grip on the pillow. “Mommy, please. It feels so good. So good.” Your toes curl into the sheet.

The sounds are so nasty. The kissing and slurping through your wet pussy, her full lips making out with your hole before her tongue slips its way back inside to writhe against your puffy and tight walls. It’s all so loving, the way she’ll run her tongue back up to your little clit to keep you as wet with your wetness as you are with her saliva, sucking on it with a mmh, mmh, mmh. Yeah, okay, Colonel Sanders. Pussy licking good, baby.

“Faster, mommy. Please Please.” Your voice is so weak, desperate. Whining out like you have been since you returned to your cell since Chris stretched your pussy to its PR circumference. To your surprise, Ada listens. She comes up for air, and in that second, she winks at you. It must mean good luck, sailor, because the next second Ada fucks your hole with her tongue with the speed of lightning. Oh, the fucking sounds. The squelching and the sloshing and the breaths you’re hardly able to keep up with as tears build in your eyes and you reach to the ceiling, the hand of Adam reaching out to the cum gods for release. But no one answers.

Mommy answers, though.

Her fingers, pressed together rub your drenched clit, already oversensitive. You throw your head back in a blissful sob. With “mommy, mommy, mommy,” under your breath, you pray your real mom doesn’t visit you during visitation tomorrow because you’re going to call her mom and all you’re going to think about is the way your mommy is tongue-fucking your hole and licking up your juices. She rubs your clit with a vengeance and slips her tongue from your folds. She brings her face to yours, nose just inches above your own as she pinches your slit. You cry out and nearly headbutt her from the jolt, sweat beading down your forehead and gasps flying out of your mouth like you’re the front runner for the Boston Marathon, but you’re having way more fun than they ever would. “Mommy, ple-e-ease.”

“You owe me,” Ada says, free hand soothing back your matted down hair. “Next time, I’m fucking your pretty little face and then your pussy, so we’re even.” You nod, frantically.

"Yes! Yes, mommy. Please let me cum. Please.” You feel it building in the pits of your stomach, the distinct tightening of who knows what. “I promise I’ll be your good girl. I promise!”

“Are you going to let Chris do something like that to you again?”

“No! Never! Please, please, mommy. I can’t. I-I can’t hold it in!” You do sob, desperate for release. “I’ll be so good for you. So good. Please.” She leans forward, and her lips don’t taste like cherry anymore. No, they taste like you, like that scent in the air. You kiss her back with unmatched fervor, hips rising to find more than the friction from her fingers.

“Cum, baby.”

Oh. Heaven Art Thou, mommy. Ada circles your clit through your orgasms as it rocks through your body, spasms from your toes to your hands. “Such a good girl.” She kisses you again, and with one last flick to your clit, her hand leaves your cunt. “Feel better?” You nod.

“Yes, mommy.” Your brows furrow in your post-orgasmic bliss, and your mouth opens. “How—”

“Come on,” Ada smiles, rising until she’s knelt over you once more. “Did you really think I didn’t know? Ouchie. Oh, my tummy hurts! You’re so mean to me.” She shakes her head. “So obvious, baby. Just the way you look at me…” She rolls her eyes and stands from the bed, stretching her fingers, and, you’re pretty sure, rubbing your wetness on her lips like lip gloss.

Then, she approaches the whiteboard over the desk and uncaps the marker.

DECEMBER

ADA | Y/N

15 17

“Did somebody really steal your laundry? Or was that another part of you and Chris’s stupid plan?

“Yes! I think it was that fuck Luis. Hear me out—.”

Your cunt is still sore the next day, not that it’s too surprising. You consider telling Ada again in the morning before they let your cell block roam free in the area, but you don’t want to owe her three orgasms. You don’t want to give her that much power over you. Well, you do, but she'll stretch those three orgasms over the rest of the month, leaving you with nothing but your fingers when you’re back in your cell.

You sit on the table on the lowest floor of the prison, feet on the bench connected to it. All the cells are wrapped around the perimeter, from this floor to the third. On the second is the door to the rest of the prison and its offices. It’s where Chris is now with Jill and several other guards. You nudge Ada with your hand and nod up to them. “There. See ‘im?” Amongst the guards is a man in a dark blue suit. “Chris said he’s some fed. Works right under the president. Here on some classified mission.” You can’t get a good look at him from down here, just at the shine of the light against his blonde locks and the strong body underneath that suit. You glance over to Ada, whose eyes linger on him. There's a strange gleam to them, but there's always something in Ada's eyes anyway. No point in ever trying to discern what without going insane. “He’s the one Chris wanted to impress so badly.”

“And he couldn’t think of any other way besides… that?” Your pussy throbs. “He was never the thinking type.”

“Clearly.”

“And I think he’s just wanted to do that but needed the excuse.”The fed’s steps are smooth down the stairs, hands soothing down his suit as he goes. You and Ada watch him closely. “Alright, maggots!” Chris. Of course. “Line up! We’ve got some PSAs. So unclog your ears and use your brains, for those who have them. Sorry to those who don’t. Looking at you, Luis.” The Spaniard chuckles, and it’s not the chuckle of your laundry thief. He puts his hand up in feigned surrender, meeting your eyes and winking. Slut. Takes one to know one.

You line up, and being in this spot again is… interesting. The guards all come down, and in the middle of them… in… in the… in the middle of… the… in the…

Oh. My. God.

Your mouth goes agape. Even Chris’s deafening voice doesn’t break your trance. It’s like everything around you fades to the background, and the planets all align over the fed’s head. You have never seen a more… ethereal being. Built not as big as Chris, you see strength under that suit. Thick thighs, bulging biceps, man tits under that button down. His blue eyes scan down the line, not yet noticing you, thank god. If he had, he’d notice the hearts in your eyes and the damp spot between your legs. He’s got a small stubble and some blonde fringe over the sides of his chiseled face.

“...Be on your best fucking behavior. None of you want to end up like inmate 3825-63. Do you?” Oh, that’s your number. Yippie! “That’s what I thought. Cooperate with the agent here with whatever he needs for his investigation, and we’ll have no problems. Don’t, and he can kick your ass just as well as I could. Understood?!” Everyone yells their understanding, but you’ve got too much drool in your mouth to do the same. Not really, but you might as well the way you ogle him. “Floor’s yours.”

The agent steps forward. “Name’s Leon Kennedy, and I’m—.” Oh. Daddy’s here.

#ada wong #ada wong x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfiction

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