#scarabee x reader

[beetlebitchywitch]

Vampire!Scarabee (The Conglomerate Beetlejuice Mafia AU) x F!Reader: A Venomous Endeavor

I promised I would post this and it took me awhile but HI HELLO HERE IT IS! I’m legitimately really really proud of this fic, it’s 18 pages and I just love writing Scarabee from the bottom of my heart, so I really hope y’all enjoy this!

Imma tag a few people like last time because I’m a slut for validation!

@realmonsterboyhours @go-commander-kim @vicunaburger @gegehaddock @justsassysworld @young-erstill @humanransome-note

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

The night was gray and damp as you hurried down the rain-slicked streets of New Orleans, the streetlights reflecting golden orbs in the asphalt marred by the steady drizzle. Those who knew well enough to stay off these streets past dusk had long since turned in for the night, yet you could still hear the raucous laughter of late night merriment even blocks away from Bourbon Street. Unfortunately, a night of libations was not in your foreseeable future, and the further your steps took you away from the party center of the city, the more anxious you grew. Here, the streets were dark and winding, lit only with dim lamplight that flickered ominously as you passed, your coat clutched tightly across your chest as the rain continued to fall, soaking you nearly to the bone. Here, you knew, was where the magic that had long gone dormant in other parts of the city still thrived, electrifying the streets with an undercurrent of dark energy that practically swallowed you up, enticing you further down your path towards your sordid destination. It felt like ages before you finally reached a tall, foreboding mansion on the corner of two cobblestone streets with flickering candles lit in the windows, dancing as if to invite you closer. Above the door hung a simple wooden sign, with only a large, green beetle etched into the grain, glinting in the light of the street lamp as you approached. Looking down at the business card clutched tightly in your hand, you saw an identical beetle, right down to its metallic sheen. This was it. 

You paused for a moment, taking a few deep breaths to buck up your courage before lifting your hand to the door and rapping sharply, pulling away as if it had burned you the second you’d finished. Oh God, this was a terrible idea, you should’ve turned back ages ago, you couldn’t do this-

The door swung open. In the entryway was an incredibly tall man, broad and barrel-chested, staring down at you with a curious expression. You almost had to crane your head up just to look him in the eye, and God, those eyes, one green and one purple, both glowing dangerously in the darkness of the night. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away, nor could you seem to move your lips enough to form a proper sentence. You must’ve looked like a fish freshly plucked from the sea and floundering on the dock, and the longer you struggled to string together your words, the more shame rushed hotly into the pit of your belly. The man quirked an eyebrow, seemingly struggling not to smirk down at you. 

“Can I be of service to you, madame?” he asked formally, his deep voice floating richly through the air to reach you and somehow shocking you out of your reverie. You cleared your throat, steadying yourself enough to firmly meet his gaze.

“I’m looking for the home of Scarabee Shoggoth,” you said, handing the man the business card you’d been desperately clutching between your fingers. He took it gingerly, holding it up to examine it in the light. His eyes flickered back to you, traveling down to your feet and then back up your body as if examining you. 

“And what business do you have with my...employer?” he asked, his distrust evident in his tone. You tried not to let this deter you, instead choosing to steel your expression and hold your ground. 

“I’d like to tell Mr. Shoggoth that himself, thank you,” you said firmly, trying not to let the strangeness of his eyes dissolve your nerve as you held firm, even if your fingers still trembled clutching at the edges of your coat. “Could you show me to him, please?” 

Again, he paused, watching you carefully as he pocketed the business card. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to have found it, because with a heavy sigh, he stepped aside, beckoning you inside the mansion. You ducked in thankfully, the ends of your hair dripping onto the gorgeously polished hardwood no matter how quickly you tried to wring it out into your sleeve. Still trying to dry yourself off, you didn’t realize how close the servant had gotten to you until his hands suddenly fell on top of yours, pulling a soft gasp from your lips. They were gentle despite their size, and he made quick work of ridding you of your coat, hanging it on the coat rack just by the door. You were still damp, but drier without your outer layer, so you gave him a thankful nod, which he returned before guiding you slowly down the main hall. The house was quiet, with no other servants to be seen as you were led into a large living room with plush armchairs surrounding a roaring fireplace, likely for entertaining guests. There, in the chair closest to the fire, sat a man dressed in a fine suit jacket of golden paisley and a sweater of deep, rich purple. His eyes immediately met yours as you entered the room along with the servant- one green and one purple. Funny… You shook the thought away as the man rose to greet you, a somewhat amused smile gracing his lips. 

“Well, it’s quite a late hour for visitors,” he mused, swirling a glass of amber liquid in his hand as he looked to his servant. “Thank you, Wasp, that will be all.” 

Wasp. An interesting name, you thought. With a quick nod to both you and the man you now knew to be Scarabee Shoggoth, he was gone, his heavy footsteps fading away into nothing as he disappeared down the hall. Now, left alone with the man you’d walked nearly half an hour in the rain to see, your nervousness returned with a vengeance, swirling angrily in the pit of your stomach. He seemed to notice your sudden change in demeanor and chuckled beneath his breath, opening his arms welcomingly to you. 

“Ain’t no reason to tremble, cher,” he crooned, his accent sweetening his voice like honey as it lilted through the air. “Except for the rain, I suppose. Come, ma petite, take my seat by the fire. You looked chilled to the bone.” 

Despite your nervousness, you smiled gratefully, moving past him to slip into his plush seat only a few feet from the fireplace. You’d smelled his cologne as you passed, rich and spicy, and did your best not to shudder, choosing to focus on the wonderful way the heat seeped into your bones, already working to dry off your dampened clothes and hair. Scarabee moved to take the seat across from you, gazing at you curiously with those eyes that were so similar to Wasp’s. Perhaps they were brothers? But he had called him his employer…

“Your mind is workin’ rather fast, darlin’,” he quipped, interrupting your thoughts that indeed had been racing. He took a slow sip of his drink, not even pulling a face as the liquid likely burned on the way down. “Tell me. What business brings you to my home at such an hour?” 

God, you honestly hadn’t expected to get this far. Part of you suspected you’d be turned away at the door, but instead, you were seated comfortably by the fire, expected to explain yourself to the man that, at this point, was likely your only hope. 

“Well…” you began quietly, rubbing the pad of your thumb anxiously across the back of your other hands. “I’ll be frank, Mr. Shoggoth. I’m in need of some...otherworldly supplies, and I heard from some trusted sources that you were the man to see.”

Any fear you had of offending him melted away as he grinned almost wickedly, his strange eyes crinkling under the weight of his excited smile. Clearly, you’d heard correctly. 

“And if I am?” he asked smoothly, downing the rest of his drink before setting the glass firmly on a side table. “What sort of,” he chuckled beneath his breath, “otherworldly supplies could you possibly need, cher?” 

You took a deep breath. 

“...Vampire venom.” 

The room fell completely silent other than the sound of wood crackling from the heat of the fire. His eyes, almost comically wide, scanned you the same way Wasp’s had, trying to somehow glean more information simply from the sight of you. You shrunk beneath the weight of his gaze, feeling your cheeks flush with shame now that you’d finally admitted your need. You and he both knew what vampire venom was used for. 

“...Well I’ll be,” he said nearly breathlessly, running his fingers through his tousled hair. “I certainly wasn’t expectin’ this tonight.”

“If it’s too much to ask, Mr. Shoggoth, I can go!”

“Scarabee, please, ma cher,” he said insistently, wiping the look of shock off his face. “Ain’t nothin’ too much about it, not at all. I was simply surprised, is all. Goodness, what use could a young lady such as yourself have for vampire venom?” 

You knew, of course. Your need for the venom was utterly selfish, so selfish that you felt ashamed to even attempt to admit it, but you knew Mr. Sho-Scarabee would not simply hand over a vial of venom without knowledge of its intended use. After all, the effects of it were known to be rather powerful- the harm that could come to his reputation if it was misused could be irreversible. With a heavy sigh, you met his gaze, your anxious hands finally still in your lap. 

“There’s a man,” you began softly. “We’re betrothed, you see. And I know it’s rather improper to...know him before we’re wed, but I needed to know what he would be like before I was bound to him forever. The first time we tried...I couldn’t. Nothing he did could please me, nothing at all, and I think there might be something wrong with me, so-”

“So you suspect the venom could help...move things along, as it were,” he interjected, nodding with understanding. “I see your dilemma, darl’. Rest assured, I have what you seek, and plenty of it…” His lips suddenly quirked up in a small smirk. “For a price, of course.”

Ah, and there it was. The price. You knew that in dealing with a man such as this, there was no telling what he might ask of you in exchange for what you needed. You’d stashed as much money as you could in your purse, not concerned in the slightest with how much he’d ask of you, but...something about the look in his eye told you that money was not what he was after. 

“And...what price would that be, Scarabee?” you finally asked, his name feeling warm and pleasant on your lips despite the fear coursing through your veins. He simply smiled, rising from his chair to take hold of a gilded cane, taking slow steps with it in his hands until he reached the fireplace, gazing into the golden flames. 

“Ain’t nothin’ to be too worried about, cher,” he said softly, his eyes flitting over to yours. “Just a little experiment, is all.” 

Experiment? You were expecting your engagement ring, your dog, perhaps your firstborn child, but an experiment? Given the nature of his activities, the prospect both intrigued and alarmed you. What use could he possibly have for you as a test subject? Seeing your apprehension, he chuckled, leaning against the wall with one arm. 

“Does that frighten you, petite?” he asked curiously, a soft grin playing on his lips. “Ain’t no reason to worry. I simply wish to satisfy a sudden curiosity of mine. It will only take a minute, and you won’t even have to leave that chair...I must admit, I am intrigued by your apparent inability to experience arousal. If you don’t mind, I’d simply like to give you a once over.” 

He watched with muted glee as you mulled over his offer. You were legitimately concerned that there was something wrong with you, and if it would only take a minute...well, possibly getting an answer to your problem seemed too good to be true, with a short exam a comparably small price to pay for something that could help you a great deal. You looked up to meet his gaze, your stomach tightening when you saw him staring down at you intently, awaiting your answer with one eyebrow quirked. With a shaky sigh, you nodded your consent, trying not to shiver when you saw the white hot excitement glowing in his eyes.

“Good choice, cher,” he hummed, setting his cane aside and approaching you slowly, carefully. Your hands clutched absentmindedly at the plush arms of the chair, trying to keep yourself from shying away from him as he knelt down in front of you, your eyes now at equal level. There was something intense in those strange eyes, something that made you barely keep from shivering as they dragged over your skin, reddened from the heat of the fire and the blush quickly crawling up from your chest. His smile was encouraging, but tinged with a hint of wickedness, one hand reaching out to cup your cheek with a trepidatious touch. “This alright?”

Your breath coming a bit faster now, you nodded, gulping as his thumb rubbed a soothing circle into your cheek. His hands were surprisingly cold, especially given the way your skin had heated from the roaring fire, and it genuinely felt rather soothing, given the circumstances. You relaxed only slightly in the chair, but it still caught his attention, pulling a low chuckle from deep within his chest.

“That’s it, ma cherie,” he crooned, letting his hands drag from his cheek down over your jaw and to your neck, feeling your pulse point thrumming against your skin as your heart began to beat even faster. “Just relax for me now.” 

You did your best to obey him, sinking firmly into the armchair as his other hand joined the first, trailing delicately down your bicep and down toward your wrist while rubbing his thumb across the front of your throat. His touch was featherlight and cold, scraping delicately over your skin as he simply explored, lingering at whatever patch of skin would cause you to shiver when touched. Christ, what was he doing?

“Somethin’ the matter, darlin’?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. When you met his gaze, you shivered at its intensity, feeling as if it would set you alight from the inside out if his touch didn’t beat him there first. You didn’t know what he was playing at...but you wanted to.

“N-No,” you stammered unconvincingly, struggling not to press more firmly into his hands. He chuckled lowly, leaning in close to press a slow, lingering kiss to your cheek. Despite the coolness of his lips, your skin felt like it was on fire.

“Good,” he whispered, letting his lips linger there to feel you tremble beneath them. His first hand remained clasped loosely around your throat while the other dropped to your thigh and, oh God, trailed firmly down to your knee, his thumb curling around to press into your inner thigh as he dragged his hand firmly down your leg. You could feel it so much easier now that there was nothing between you and him but a set of nylon stockings, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering again, the sensation sending heat pooling in your core as he chuckled again, his breath rushing hotly across your skin. Oh God, this was wrong, this was so wrong, you were engaged for Christ’s sake, but...when he pressed yet another long, sensual kiss to your cheek, you didn’t care. You didn’t care one bit, not when his hand was dragging back up your inner thigh, his nails scraping deliciously against the nylon as the tips of his fingers just barely, barely grazed the edge of your panties. Any concerns you had for propriety flew out the window at that glorious, barely-there touch, because no man had ever made you feel this way, and the more he touched you, the more you craved to be touched. You could barely even feel your engagement ring weighing on your finger when he trailed his hand back up with a wide, dangerous grin, the tips of his fingers pausing for a moment before pressing firmly against your panties. He pulled back just a bit to watch in delight as you finally let out a low, hushed moan, the scent of your arousal filling his nose and telling him all he needed to know. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, chaton,” he murmured playfully, his eyes alight with glee at the sight of you. “But there’s nothing wrong with you.”

You paused, your mind so heavily fogged with these new sensations that you barely registered what he was trying to tell you. There was nothing wrong with you...oh. There was nothing wrong with you. Then that meant-

“But...the venom…” you said, cutting off with a whimper when his fingers pressed little circles through your panties, grinning with delight as you struggled not to let your eyes slide shut.

“The venom cannot change who you are attracted to,” he explained softly, his other hand curling more intently around your throat. “It can only intensify what is already there. But, if you’re still curious…”

He moved away just slightly, enough for you to be able to gaze into his eyes. He let his mouth open just slightly, holding your gaze to gauge your every reaction as slowly, two identical, razor sharp fangs distended, glinting in the golden light of the fire. Your eyes widened, your heart pounding away so violently in your chest that he could practically hear the blood rushing through you. His grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly, holding you firmly and forcing you to take in what he truly was. 

“...Then how would you like a taste from the source?”

You couldn’t help yourself. You shuddered violently in his arms, your eyes finally sliding shut with a whimper. The thought of those fangs sinking into your skin frightened you, and that fear somehow intensified your arousal, the two intermingling in your body until they were one and the same. His fingers were still against you, yet you were ready to beg until you were hoarse for them to take you apart. And if all of this could be wrought from you with only a few simple touches, you could hardly imagine how you’d feel with his venom coursing through your veins, your blood staining his lips scarlet… 

“Got somethin’ to say, darl’?” he asked, the sound of his voice dragging over your skin like velvet, soothing and warm and everything you didn’t know you’d needed until this very moment. You had half a mind to tear your ring from your finger if this was the kind of pleasure a man could bring you without even taking your clothes off...and oh, taking your clothes off…

“Scarabee,” you murmured, fighting the fog in your mind to open your eyes, meeting his with desperation. “Please.” 

And with that, you let your head lean to the side, willingly baring the side of your neck to him. 

In less than a second, he was pulling you out of the chair and into his lap, nosing sensuously up the column of your neck and inhaling deeply. The way your heart was pounding, he could smell your blood rushing just below the surface of your skin, and God did it hunger him. He pressed a slow, almost apologetic kiss to your pulse point before baring his fangs and piercing your neck, groaning gutturally at the hot rush of blood across his tongue. You cried out sharply, the pain present for only a brief moment before you were overwhelmed with a delicious heat, spreading from where his fangs were sunk firmly into your neck all the way down to your fingertips and toes. You shuddered as he fed from you, pumping more venom into your system with every second, the pleasant heat beginning to pool in your center where his fingers had begun rubbing circles again. You bucked into his hand, whimpering as the pleasure was intensified with every drop of venom entering your system, growing nearly unbearable by the time he pulled off, licking over your wound with a hushed groan. When he pulled away, you shuddered at the sight of your blood on his lips, a single drop running towards his chin before he licked it away, leaving only a dull red stain in its wake. You couldn’t help it, your hands were clutching at his suit jacket and forcing it off of him, throwing it to the side before grabbing at his sweater and pulling him in for a kiss. The coppery taste made your mind swim, but you really didn’t mind, especially when the tip of his fang just barely pricked your tongue as you swept it languidly over his lower lip. He deepened the kiss with a groan, his hands wrapping firmly around your waist as your tongues met and tangled deliciously. You pulled away, your breath coming in short pants as you ran your fingers up into his hair, intoxicated by the way his strange eyes bored into you, staring down at your body as if he couldn’t stand another second of it being hidden from his gaze.

“How do you want this?” he panted, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. “God, you fucking tasted delicious, cher…” He trailed off with a heady groan, burying his face in your neck again to lick up the last remnants of your blood where it seeped from your wound. 

“Scarabee,” you whimpered, the barely-there pain only intensifying the pleasure that was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. “I...I don’t care, however you want, anything, just please!” 

Your desperate pleas broke down any self control he had left in Scarabee, and with a growl, he had you on your back, laid out on furs by the fireplace that was starting to diminish behind you. You fumbled wildly with your clothing, struggling to force down your stocking when with a snap of his fingers, you were bare, your skin glowing in the firelight with his equally bare body hovering over you, the paleness of his skin only now striking you now that you knew what he was. You expected to be self-conscious given your sudden nudity, but the pleasure aching in your core was only strengthening, so you were quick to spread your legs around him, the scent of your arousal reaching his nose and making his eyes roll back into his skull. 

“Ain’t you just a pretty sight, mon amour,” he crooned, leaning down to begin kissing from the bite in your neck to down between your breasts, his fangs scraping deliciously across your skin. “I’d bet my finest moonshine that you’ll be even prettier when we’re done.” 

God, you didn’t want to be done, you’d never want to be done, not when his mouth continued its hot trail of kisses down to between your legs, where you pussy lay bare and wanting. He groaned softly at the sight, unable to tear his eyes away as his fingers began to explore, trailing to your entrance to gather your wetness on his fingertip. He grinned wickedly at the way you shuddered from such a simple touch, the venom clearly working its magic on you given how wet you already were for him. Holding your gaze, he brought his fingers to his lips, cleaning your slick off of them and moaning at the sweet taste. No matter where he fed from you, you were delicious. Hungry for more, he parted your legs further and ducked his head, dragging the flat of his tongue up the length of your pussy and groaning brokenly at the taste. You threw your head back with a cry, the coolness of his tongue feeling absolutely incredible against your superheated core. 

“By the time I’m done with you,” he snarled, quickly pressing two fingers into your waiting entrance and marveling at the tightness as he slid them inside, “You’re gonna be tossin’ that ring in the fireplace.” 

You let out a wild cry at the mere thought, the ring suddenly weighing heavily on your finger as he drove his fingers into your pussy, angling them just right while he stretched you out, readying you for the cock hanging heavily between his legs. His fingers were thick, the stretch paired with the way his fingertips drove perfectly into your G spot sending stars dancing in your eyes. You would’ve been embarrassed by how wet you were for him were it not for how fucking gone you were, shivering under the intensity of his gaze as he watched you come undone simply from his fingers. 

“Bet that sorry excuse for a man can’t make you feel like this, can he?” he snarled, curling his fingers just right and revelling in your broken moans. “Come on, darlin’, tell me how this feels.” 

“Ungh, it-oh God-it feels so good,” you cried out, nearly screaming when his mouth descended once more to latch onto your clit, sucking greedily at the sensitive nub while he slipped a third finger inside you. You suspected you’d need it, given his size. “Fu-hngh-uck, never felt like this befo-oh!” You whined at the feeling of him slowly removing his fingers, his mouth leaving your clit to suck them clean. He pulled off, his smoldering gaze turning to you as he crawled back up your body, both hands reaching under your thighs to wrap them around his waist, his cock now lined up perfectly with your aching pussy. 

“Mmm…” he hummed, cupping your cheek lovingly before moving to hook his thumb into your mouth, pulling it open and pressing it down against your tongue. “Let me hear you now, cher.” And with those strange eyes watching you intently, he pressed inside you, a hot bolt of pleasure rushing up your spine as his cock stretched you more than his fingers ever could. You whimpered against his thumb, the vibrations making him grin wickedly as he bottomed out in a single thrust, his fangs bared as he bit down on his lower lip at the feeling of your tight, wet heat surrounding him. He paused, watching you for any sign of discomfort while you breathed slowly, adjusting to an entirely unfamiliar stretch. The venom helped a great deal, considering this was your first time, so within a minute, you felt comfortable enough to gaze up at him from beneath your lashes and wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking sensually with a clear invitation shimmering in your eyes. Scarabee’s eyes widened at the feeling before his mouth spread around growled laugh, his lips replacing his hand as he captured yours in a desperate kiss. He distracted you with his kiss while slowly pulling out, waiting until he was nearly about to slip out before pushing back in with a rough trust, groaning brokenly at the feeling of your pussy clenching tightly around him. He picked up a rough, fast pace, hilting with each thrust and using his grip on your hips to pull you down onto him. Resting his forehead on yours, his breath puffed out against your lips as he panted, little groans intermingling with the heavy breaths as he lost himself in the feeling of you. 

“Scara-ah!” you cried out, letting out little whimpers against his lips as his cock dragged so fucking perfectly inside you, his girth stretching you fucking deliciously while the head of his cock angled up to drive into your G spot with each desperate thrust. You combed your fingers through his hair, pressing little kisses to his lips between every broken whimper. “O-Oh God, please…” 

“That’s it, darl’,” he crooned, holding tightly to you as he took you harder, intoxicated by the sound of his cock thrusting into your nearly dripping pussy. “Beg for me, scream for me…”

And scream you would. The harder he took you, the louder you were, until he was thrusting into you with every ounce of strength he had and you had your head thrown back, your mouth wide open around loud cries that echoed throughout the room. The venom coursing through you was amplifying every thrust of his cock inside you, every press of his lips to your overheated skin, every drag of his fingertips across your hips as he took you. It was perfect, it was all too much, and you were quickly barreling towards a peak you’d yet to experience. God, you needed it, you needed him-

“Scarabee, please,” you whimpered, clutching tightly at his hair as the drag of his cock threatened to send you over the edge. “Oh God, I- I think I’m gonna cum, I need to, pleasepleaseplease let me cum!” 

Your begging words only succeeded in sending Scarabee into a tailspin, one hand reaching down to circle your clit with a desperate snarl. 

“Cum,” he commanded roughly, and oh, just that little extra stimulation had you clenching around him and screaming out your climax, clinging to him with all your might as the pleasure raced through you violently, your entire body trembling in his arms. The feeling of you fucking milking him with your own orgasm had him growling out his own, not being able to keep himself from sinking his fangs into the other side of your neck, letting the rush of blood over his lips only intensify his pleasure. You cried out at the brief moment of pain before, oh God, the new venom was elongating your orgasm, sending waves of pleasure through you so strongly that you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks, the intensity only beginning to die down after a solid minute and a half of you shaking like a leaf in Bee’s arms, pumped so full of his cum and his venom that you thought you might burst. When it finally dissipated, you slumped down to the floor, panting harshly and letting out a little wince as he pulled his softening cock from your pussy, a rush of cum quickly following and rolling down the cleft of your ass and to the floor. Bee settled down next of you, propped up on one elbow as he watched you come down from the most intense, and only, orgasm you’d ever had. 

“Are we feelin’ better now, cher?” he asked cheekily, stroking a hand through your sweat dampened hair. You could only nod, eyes fixed solely on the ceiling above as you struggled to come back into your own head. Christ, he’d practically torn you to pieces. It was only when you’d fully come back down to Earth that you felt the suddenly heavy weight of your ring on your finger. Glancing down at it as it sparkled in the dim firelight, you knew what you had to do. You looked Bee in the eye as you slid it from your finger, propping yourself up on one elbow to watch as you tossed it into the flames, watching it darken with ash and feeling no remorse. When you turned back to Scarabee, his eyes were widened, his mouth hanging open to reveal those crimson-stained fangs.

“Ma cherie, when I said that, I didn’t entirely mean it,” he said in hushed awe. You flopped back down to the floor, still panting and starting to feel the gentle soreness between your legs. You sighed, meeting his gaze regrettably. 

“He’s been fooling around with my cousin for a month now,” you admitted, your eyes scrunching shut at the thought. “I...I thought if I could manage to be with him, he’d-” 

“He’d want you,” he finished, a sudden look of understanding crossing his face. “And that’s why you needed the venom...goodness, I can’t say I know what that feels like, but…” His eyes traveled over the ring smoldering in the flames. “...I suppose that doesn’t bother you now, does it?” 

“Not in the slightest,” you said breathily, shifting a bit and wincing at the somewhat pleasant soreness in your body. “I...It’s a bit late. And I walked nearly half an hour to get here.” 

“Well,” Scarabee said, almost shy as he cleared his throat. “I have a guest room that I could have prepared for you...unless, of course, you’d like to join me in my bed.” 

You let a soft smile grace your lips as you nodded, nuzzling into his chest. The thought of sharing a nice warm bed with Scarabee was suddenly the only thing you could possibly want, and he simply chuckled, holding you close and enjoying the warmth of your post-sex body. 

“I usually don’t sleep at night, but...for you, cher, I suppose I could make the exception...cher?” 

When you didn’t answer, he glanced down at you, smiling softly at the sight of you, eyes slid shut and nuzzling unconsciously into him as sleep had clearly taken you. Careful not to wake you, he slipped his arms under your body, whisking you off to his luxurious bedroom for the night.

You could talk about the smoldering remains of your ring in the morning. 

[realmonsterboyhours]

oh god that touch starved post was *chef’s kiss* immaculate. so, how would the dons react to s/o doing something really adorable just out of the blue. if you need an example say something like a tiny sneeze or just doing a little squeal at something that’s cute. i don’t really know something like that. love ya :)

The dons with a cute s/o

Lemme just start with I love everything about this ask. I'm gonna go with just little cute things I can think of for each.

Zhuk

The first time he hears you let out a tiny little giddy squeal when you see an animal he nearly has a heart attack.

Who touched his sweetheart? Who's going to die now? He's ready to instant transmission and break a foot off in their ass.

When he also sees the animal he just has to join in being excited about it. This man is an animal lover after all.

From then on he notices the little noise when you see something that is adorable he can't help but watch you with softened eyes and a smitten smile.

He'll prop his head up in his hand and he'll stare at you lovingly while you have your moment.

He knows he has to marry you. This being one of a million reasons he feels this way.

Gio:

How do you give back to someone who gives you so much? Little heartfelt gifts of course! The Estate's grounds are expansive if you like to wander its easy to find rocks that remind you of him. Or if you're more into crafting with your hands I'm sure there's things out there you could make for him!

The first time he gets a gift from you he's a bit confused. He doesn't quite get it but he knows whatever this thing is came from a good place. Even if it's just a rock.

Over time he gets used to the gifts, and even begins to really enjoy and adore them.

It's so sweet how much you want to give back, even if you can't give him the same as he can give you.

It becomes customary, regularly you leave little gifts in his office or in his room, and each time his eyes soften and he melts a bit inside.

When you come back the present is always gone, you aren't sure if he just tosses them out or what, it's unlikely that a man of his tastes would truly enjoy home made gifts.

But what you don't know is he's having to plan a new closet or display case to be added to his office where he can keep all these gifts. He's kept every single one.

Scarabee

The first time Scarabee heard you let out the faintest moan was the night you came to him, sore and tired.

The others had told you about his magical massages and they weren't kidding.

Once he heard the little breathy gasp and a soft moan he was instantly addicted. It becomes his favorite sound.

From then on he does whatever he can to make you make that noise when he sees you. He damn near makes it an afterlife goal.

If you're just chilling in the smoking room? He may come up and just rub your shoulders. Relaxing with him on the porch? He may rub your thigh just to hear it.

Every time he hears it, its like his heart threatens to beat again.

His eyes soften and he smiles very fondly which is a bit strange for someone like him.

The other dons may tease him for it, but he couldn't care less.

Cia

He first catches you singing in the shower. You were playing your favorite song, and singing your little heart out with the lyrics. He felt so moved.

In tune, out of tune, flat, whatever you sound like he fucking adores it.

He's fond of music, himself. Often singing old Irish drinking songs at his pub, or gathering his clones for a session with them.

From then on he's on a mission to learn the kind of music you like. He's listening in on the showers or taking note of what he can hear past your headphones.

He'll put a Playlist together to dance or sing with you. If you're shy about it he'll learn to play some of your favorite songs and sing them to you.

It becomes his favorite thing to do. Singing with you in the car when no one is around. Helping you do anything you like while playing the music.

It also doesn't matter what genre it is, seeing your eyes light up when your favorite song comes on is everything he could have asked for.

Bajo

He gets his first love note when you leave it on his nightstand to wake up to. Perhaps you were a bit shy about just how flirty he is, but you wanted him to know how you feel.

He's smitten more and more with every word.

He'll write you back that very morning. He'll craft a letter so beautiful you'll have to cry reading it, he just knows it.

He writes letters, he writes poetry, he writes little thoughts on sticky notes to give to you.

Each time you return a letter he falls harder and harder.

When you are sad it's not uncommon for him to sneak a letter beside you on the bed to wake up to.

Unspoken words can quickly become your love language.

Hope you like sappy, lovestruck loveletters because this don is absolutely gobsmacked with how much he loves and adores you.

[justsassysworld]

Five Demons and a Baby Part 1

Fem!reader x The Conglomerate 

Word count: 1,498

Five Demons and A Baby

Mr. Scarabee, you probably don't remember me, but we met at Mardi Gras. You swept me off my feet, laughing and dancing the night away. We finished the night at my apartment. When I woke up the next morning you were gone, with no words and basically no way of getting a hold of you.

I've written and rewritten this letter more times than I could count in this last week, too many times really. Every time I get ready to send it, I start thinking, He left, he wouldn't care what you have to say. Then another part of me argues, He deserves to know, you can't put this off. I made it all the way to the post office the last time, but the person looked at the address and warned me away. They told me some unbelievable, terrible things about you, and the people you associate with. Things that scare me.

The strange thing is, if they're wrong, I wouldn't worry so much, but if the rumors are true, I know I'll need your help, our baby will need your help.

God, writing that, even knowing I might not even send this letter, sets my nerves on end. Maybe the stories set my imagination off, but I've been having strange dreams ever since that night.

Sorry, I'm rambling. The important thing for you to know is that I'm pregnant, and it's yours.

Curled up on your couch, you second guess yourself, again and again. It's been almost a week since you finally sent it. It must've shown up by now and you find yourself constantly rationalizing, refusing to admit it might not have been the right thing. The book in your hand and the silence of your home do little to quell the voices in your head.

      Sudden banging at your door has you jumping and letting out a startled shriek. Before you even have time to think, it explodes inward, making you jerk to your feet. Your eyes search for whoever, or whatever, forced it open, but find nothing. Your chest heaves as his energy rolls into the room.

His well polished, black leather shoes catch your eye first. Trailing up his body, your gaze takes in his expertly tailored suit, his tattooed fingers grasping his cane, the beautiful gold paisley detailing on his jacket, green scruff at his jaw, firm and set lips, and finally it settles on his glowing eyes, one green and one purple.

A feral grin lifts his lips as he purrs, “Evening, chaton.”

Shadows rise around him, twisting, rolling, reaching. For you.

Wanting to take a step back, you feel yourself topple, feet caught by something. With a squeak, you brace for impact, but quick as a whip, he clasps your wrist, jerking you back up and into his chest. Gasping, you look to your feet, to avoid his gaze and to see what tripped you, but what you see makes no sense.

Your feet are encased in darkness.

Soft yet firm fingers dance across your jaw, lifting your eyes back to his. His other hand snakes down to your belly, resting just over your belly button.

“Is it true?” he whispers, voice thick with some unknown emotion.

Biting your lip, you nod, voice failing you.

Drawing in a deep breath, his grip firms. The air grows thick as he bites out a sharp command and your home is suddenly filled with strange men. In the blink of an eye, you watch in shocked horror as they start to pack up your apartment. Far faster than should be humanly possible, you find yourself in an empty room, alone with a man who, while being the father of your unborn child, is a stranger.

Fury has you remembering how to use your voice. “What the hell? What the fuck are they doing?”

You try to jerk out of his embrace, but before you can his fingers are twined in your hair, pulling you close, well, closer.

He dips his head to rest it against yours.

“Cher, cher, cher,” he breathes against your ear, sending a shiver through you. “I've got many enemies out there, people just waitin' to find some chink in my armor, and here ya are.”

Your lips tremble as his breath fans against them.

“I tried protectin' ya, leavin', but it won't be no time before they find ya now, and you were right.”

Confused, you ask, “About what?”

“You need me to keep ya safe, both from my enemies and our bebe,” pulling back, he searches your eyes, the intensity searing through you. “It ain't common for my kind to have children, at least not ones they stick around for, so I've got a lot of research ahead of me.”

“Oh,” you squeak out, shocked by the power of his emotion. It's almost enough to make you forget his underhanded tactics.

You try to move away again, but when he just holds you tighter, you resign yourself to tell him off from right there in his arms. Taking a deep breath, you look deep into his eyes, and go off.

“I know you're some big, bad ass, boss type man, but that doesn't mean you can just sweep in and take over my life. It might not be much, but this apartment is my home, and I have no reason to leave it. The only reason I sent you the letter is that you deserve to know about your child, it had nothing to do with wanting anything from you. If I need anything, or something comes up, I'll let you know, but until that happens, kindly have your goons bring back my stuff and get the hell out.”

You feel the growl before you hear it and just as you recognize the mistake, you find your back pressed against the wall, body caged. His eyes glow, both with fury and literally.

Fear has you frozen. What the fuck are you doing? you ask yourself. You've heard the stories, you know just how dangerous the man in front of you is, and stupidly you antagonized him. One night, one incredibly hot, satisfying night, and you felt far more comfortable around a relative stranger than you should have.

The evil grin that slowly stretches across his face is equal parts terrifying and, much to your shame, arousing.

His breath tickles your lips as he mumbles, “Oh, chaton, chaton, chaton, while I love this fire, you need to remember just who you are dealing with. I can be a very understandin' man, but only as long as you remember that I am a very dominant man, and while the only pain you feel at my hand you will beg for, I will take care of the both of you. Which means you will listen to me.”

As you open your mouth to say...something, his lips meet yours, commanding, domineering, drawing a response. While it starts hard and rough, the kiss softens as you do. Melting against him, your hands skim his body, one wrapping around his neck, the other grips his shoulder. His growling chuckle sizzles on your lips, drawing you deeper into his embrace. Everything he does calls to you in a way nothing ever has before. His teeth scrape against your tongue, your lips. Moans and gasps pour from you as you're helpless to stop them.

Time has no meaning; seconds, minutes, hours, what're those? All you need to know in this moment is the feel of his hands against your stomach, against your neck, how his body cradles and presses you against the wall.

Overwhelmed, needing air, you turn your face away, breathing deep. Not deterred, he trails kisses down your jaw, nibbles your neck, biting down where your shoulder meets it.

“Scarabee,” you gasp, making him growl and grind against you.

Just as his hand moves to your chest, a deep chuckle sounds from behind him. Your eyes snap open and you find Scarabee's back to you, blocking out the intruder.

“What the hell are you doing here, Zhuk?” he grinds out, fury evident in his voice.

Another chuckle sounds from the new man. “My friend, did you really think you could leave the way you did and no one would follow? You have been distracted lately and we have been concerned. Of course we were curious as to where you were going.”

Your brows furrow. “We?” you squeak out before you can stop yourself.

The laughter that fills the room comes from multiple sources and your curiosity has you stepping out from behind Scarabee before you can stop yourself. You find yourself trapped by four sets of eyes.

They all look shockingly similar, and yet completely different, a shocking mix of kind and sever, curious and indifferent.

“Scarabee,” you manage to squeak out, “who're your friends?”

Before you can get your answer, you see a flash and everything goes dark.

[realmonsterboyhours]

I’m not crying you are!! I love this so much momther! Thank you for indulging me! I’m just gonna go die now in a hole.

Can I please get some soft Scarabee? I have this idea of the reader getting a tarot deck from him, and giving him the first reading, and getting the lovers or a bunch of love cards and BOOKING it out once they realize their subtle crush is not so subtle?

You knocked softly at the door of Scarabee’s attic workshop, your stomach fluttering at the sound of him moving within, which you firmly reminded yourself was nerves and nothing else. Of course he made you nervous, he was a centuries old demon who practiced black magic; he’d make the most stout-hearted of men nervous. Which, of course, is why your hands always seemed to shake when you were around him, why your heart seemed to hammer and your stomach felt as though it were curling into knots. You had hoped your frequent lessons with him at the estate he shared with his associates would dull the effect his presence had on you, that you’d become used to him and grow more comfortable being alone with him. But, while you had always felt safe during your lessons, never once fearing that he would hurt you or cause you harm, your nerves hadn’t seemed to abate. Sometimes, you wondered if he knew how he made you feel, if he could hear your heart race or smell the change in your aura or something. If he did, he never let on. 

Exhaling a deep breath, you arranged your features into a smile when you heard the door open, mismatched eyes and a crooked grin greeting you. “Right on time, cher,” he crooned, stepping back and gesturing for you to enter. You weren’t sure, but you thought you heard him inhale deeply as you passed by, as if breathing in your scent, and the thought caused a shiver to roll down your spine. The door closed behind you, and you took a seat at the table, your usual place for lessons. Scarabee sat in the chair opposite you, as he usually did, but this time, he laid both hands palm-up on the scrubbed surface of his work table. “Gimme your hands,” he said softly, and you did, a little confused on his intentions but obeying nonetheless. Ice cold against your skin, his hands pressed your palms together, the soot that always seemed to cover them leaving gray-ish streaks. “You’ve been my apprentice for a while now, darlin’, and you’ve been making great strides with your magic.” He smiled proudly, and your stomach gave another roll, your cheeks feeling hot.

“Thank you,” you murmured, wanting to look him in the eye but not quite able to bring yourself to do so. You had always had trouble with eye contact, as if looking too close or too deep would burn your eyes, like looking into the sun. His grin hitched a fraction before he continued. 

“I’m right proud of the work you’ve put in, ma cher, so I wanted to give ya a little something.” His hands released yours, pulling your palms apart, and though you’d felt nothing to signal its arrival, a small, handpainted box appeared in your left hand. Your eyes widened a bit; you had seen a box similar to this in his attic, though the patterns and colors were slightly different. 

Before you could ask, he proudly announced, “Voila! Your very own tarot deck.”

There was no quelling the twisting of your stomach as you brought the box closer to inspect it, noticing the detail that had gone into it; he’d included your favorite flower, runes for protection and knowledge, even the constellation that made up your star sign. Opening the box, you saw the cards inside were equally beautiful, all hand painted, bearing floral patterns that incorporated your irises and his lilies; he’d even worked in his signature gold paisley around the edges. 

“Scarabee...they’re gorgeous.” You fanned them out, stunned by the intricate artwork. “This must have taken you ages!”

Crossing one leg over the other, he leaned back in his chair and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Not as long as you’d think, sugar. Besides, it was my pleasure. You’ve earned it.” You could feel his gaze skate over you, as if sizing you up, then his smile grew wider, showing off the pointed tips of his teeth. “Say, why dontcha break ‘er in?”

You looked up, brow furrowed. “Break it in?”

“Yeah, go ahead and give me a reading real quick. Nothing fancy, just a little something to help you get to know your cards.” Something deep in his eyes flashed. “Or to help the cards get to know you.”

Your throat suddenly felt dry, and you prayed your cheeks didn’t look as red-hot as they felt as you nodded. “Sure,” you agreed, your fingers delicately shuffling the cards the way he’d taught you, techniques he’d learned from decades of professional gambling. Scarabee leaned forward again as you spread your cards in an arc across the table, his attention squarely focused on you. Lungs expanded as you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your hand drift over the cards. Three seemed to leap out at you, tingling like a spark of static electricity when your fingertips made contact. Leaving them facedown, you pulled them from the deck and put the rest to the side. Letting out that deep breath, you flipped the first card. 

Ace of Cups.

Your gut twisted; you knew the meanings of each card, each Arcana inside and out, and you knew very well that this card represented new relationships, that feeling of first love, butterflies in the stomach, giddiness and hope. The urge to look up at Scarabee was strong, but you ignored it, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the look on his face once he saw the panic etched into yours. Fingers trembling, you flipped the second card.

The Empress.

A card brimming with sensuality and romantic connection. You felt sick to your stomach. Surely the third card wouldn’t betray you! You turned it over.

The Lovers.

Scarabee couldn’t contain himself; he threw his head back and cackled, his laughter shaking the table. Fire spread across your face in a mortified blush as you hurriedly scooped up the cards and shoved them back into the box, mumbling something about having to leave and scurrying out of the attic as quickly as your legs could carry you, forgetting entirely to take your new tarot deck with you. 

You found an empty library, most likely one of Zhuk’s, and curled up in an enormous high-backed chair upholstered in leather, hiding your face in your hands and nearly wailing with embarrassment. That couldn’t have gone more wrong. You weren’t ready to admit your feelings for Scarabee to yourself, let alone have your brand new tarot deck spell them out right in front of him! You wondered if you could convince Bajo to dig a hole in one of his gardens and bury you inside it so you wouldn’t have to look the Cajun in his mismatched eyes ever again.

Some time passed, you weren’t sure how much, before there was a soft knock on the door. A flash of gold made your heart skip, but the curls and gentle sprinkle of freckles gave the clone away. Bee didn’t say anything as he approached you, only smiled gently and knelt beside the chair. He took your head and pressed something into it; the box containing your new tarot deck. You swallowed hard, then thanked him, finding it easier somehow to look Scarabee’s clone in the eye than the actual man himself. Bee leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, lingering perhaps just a second too long before he straightened and left the room, the chill of his lips stark against the spreading heat of your blush.

Inside the box, you found a note tucked amongst the cards, and you knew from the handwriting who had penned it. Your stomach gave a flutter as you unfolded it, your heart beginning to pound as you read it.

Ma petite, 

My apologies for laughing, sweetheart, that must have seemed rude of me. I hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but seeing your pretty face go red so quickly was, quite frankly, adorable. I just couldn’t help myself. 

Now, you and I both know what those three cards meant, darling. And I want you to know, they wouldn’t have leaped out at you like that if those feelings weren’t mutual. Understand me, honey? I know you’re probably feeling embarrassed and shy, and that’s alright, but as soon as you’re ready, you just come on up and find me. We’ll have a little talk about how many kisses I need to give you to make up for my transgression. 

And where on your sweet little body those kisses might end up. 

Scarabee.

[realmonsterboyhours]

are you still taking requests for the dons? if so, how would they react to an s/o who (at the beginning of the relationship) cuddles a pillow whenever they sleep or nap because their s/o is touch starved? i tend to cuddle my pillow a lot and honestly i’m just craving for that affection haha

The Dons with a touch starved s/o HCs:

Good question my sweetest little bean <3

Zhuk:

He'll be the first to admit that he was utterly smitten seeing you curled up to a pillow.

He'll wonder what you're dreaming about, he'll wonder if that's what you look like holding onto him, and his heart just melts.

If he can't pry you from the pillows he will get more pillows for his bed that he swears are "totally unrelated".

We all know it's because he wants you to feel like you're holding onto his massive body, especially when he's away on mafia business.

He'll even leave you a sweater to wrap around the pillows and have his scent all over them for you. It's not perfect, but sometimes it does feel like he's laying beside you.

He has absolutely accidentally woken you up in his bed trying to replace the pillows with himself. He tries to be sneaky, but he's too big to do that.

If you ask him to come lay down with you while he is home he typically will put everything down to take a nap with you. He'll hold you in his massive arms and you feel impossibly safe wrapped up in your own giant monolithic teddy bear grip.

He has no need for sleeping outside of pleasure, but there are few things this man loves more than sleeping, so naps are absolutely one of his love languages.

Scarafaggio:

He wasn't sure what to think at first. You obviously craved physical attention, but being curled up to the pillow when he would come to lay down with you or check in on you confused him. Why would you not simply come curl up in his arms?

He makes it evident that he will spend time with you if asked. He's a bit more difficult than the other dons to get time with simply because he has a far harder time understanding human emotions since he had never been human.

He's trying, he really is.

When he notices you stirring in your sleep one night he'll gently take you into his arms away from the pillow and he'll stroke along your back and your hair.

When you settle down he realizes you really just want to feel his touch. It clicks.

From there he's on a regular schedule with you. Whenever you come to bed he will head to bed with you, gather you into his arms, and he will spend hours just showering you with affection.

Outside of the bedroom he finds himself touching you whenever he can find the chance. Passing by you in the kitchen with his hand brushing along your shoulders, gathering you into his lap when he smokes a cigar in the smoking lounge, holding your hand just to kiss it.

Scarabee:

He'll be the first to admit that he was the last to notice. Scarabee is woefully aloof, especially at night. His nightmares keep him awake almost constantly, so he's almost never in bed.

Never fear, this man is a king of touch.

Once he figures out what was going on after likely being told by the dons, he is going to spoil you with it.

We often talk of Scarabee's love language being massages/aftercare, so he'll make a habit of giving you a super relaxing massage right before you go to bed.

When he realizes that you hold onto him at night his nightmares slowly fade he'll probably be almost clingy. He can finally get the sleep he wants to have desperately but only if you're in his arms, or if he's even in yours.

I like to lowkey think that Scarabee secretly loves being a little spoon. Your breath on his neck or your nose nestled into his back or the way he can feel your heartbeat patter against his back is all so comforting it knocks him out fast just being held himself.

If he's going away on business he will absolutely leave a clone for you to hold or be held by. He finds out which one you like best and he'll leave that one.

There have also been many times you woke up, curled up to a pillow with his massive jacket just draped over you.

Ciaróg:

Likely most empathetic of the dons, he knows right away what I going on. The second he sees you curled up to that pillow he's sneaking into bed beside you, and doing whatever he can to either replace the pillow with his own body.

He just sorta knows when you feel like you need cuddles, without even saying anything. He'll be sitting with you in the smoking lounge and he'll just beckon you over, or go find you depending if you're in there with them or not.

Surprisingly the strongest physically of all the dons, he's quick to pull you into his big arms, and keep you locked in place with him.

He is thankfully one of the more affectionate dons, even outside of the bedroom. He has no issues displaying his affection for you in front of others.

He often enjoys you curled up to his chest on his lap during those nights when the others gather in the smoking lounge.

His lips always curl into the fondest smile when he sees you head his way for affection. He feels so loved and adored every time you come to him for affection.

I also like to think he was likely the first one to bring out all his clones for a giant cuddle puddle.

And the best part about cuddling a married man?

Escarabajo:

The best part is that you often get the both of them.

Touch, and acts of service are this don's love languages.

You thought you were going to cuddle pillows? Instead of him??? Not happening, not on his watch at least.

It's like a disturbance in the force, he can just feel when your arms wrap around a pillow and he's by your side in an instant, prying it from your arms and replacing it with his own body. He loves a good nap date.

He doesn't sleep in very late, his garden is a lot nicer to tend to when it isn't blazing hot outside so he likes to get up early to deal with it, so if you've spent the night alone with him he more than often will take you to his husband's room in the morning to let you curl up with him instead, Cia of course, melts and promises to keep you safe before he also falls asleep holding onto you.

It's also very common for not only Bajo to show up for naps, but Cia as well. The benefit of dating a polyamorous couple is that they adore sandwiching you between themselves. Being wrapped in 360 degrees of mafia don sure can be nice.

On his own Bajo is utterly shameless when it comes to touching. He touches you so much that it is nearly annoying. He's always seeming to try and get your attention, it's like having the world's cuddliest puppy.

He'll drape across your lap, he'll default to pulling you into his, he'll have his arms wrapped around you every chance he gets, he'll kiss you wherever he can reach. Be careful, he does bite, and those silver fangs are no joke.

He's very serious about cuddles, he will absolutely demand a scheduled cuddle time for the two (or three) of you on a regular basis.

[realmonsterboyhours]

dons with an s/o who has a resting bitch face, but in actuality is a big sweetheart?

Dons with an s/o with RBF HCs.

Oh as a woman with RBF but a sweet (mostly) personality I feel this one! It's a bit shorter though.

Zhuk

This man. He swears that something is wrong even when you're great.

He is a hypocrite because he also has RBF like a motherfucker.

You try bringing this up and he'll very plainly say "This is just my face"

When it happens he tends to sit you down and ask what's wrong. Eventually he'll learn that this just happens for you and that your face naturally rests like that.

It makes your smile so much better when he does see it.

Gio

He thinks he's done something to upset you.

He doesn't understand human emotion well, but when you physically look upset and tell him in a sweet voice that you aren't he realizes he understands humans even less than he thought.

He's bringing you some of your favorite small things here and there just to make sure you aren't upset.

He may in the future be a bit unsure of when you're actually upset and may not ask as a result. It's not that he doesn't care, he just can't tell the difference between your face normally and when you're actually upset.

Scarabee

This man straight up doesn't notice.

No for real.

He also has RBF so he just knows you are genuinely so sweet and loving and that he adores your face.

The first time the other dons mention it would be the first time he even remotely notices and even then he still just thinks it's completely natural.

He does, however, begin checking in on your mood and health a bit more often from then on.

Cia

He's empathetic as fuck.

He can tell a rancid vibe from a million miles away and when he sees that face but doesn't feel those same normal feelings when someone is upset it throws him for a loop.

He'll ask you in the gentlest way possible how you're feeling. He's the most likely to ask a few times, even if it gets upsetting after a while.

He just has to know if you're okay so he can fix it if you aren't for some reason.

His goal from then on is to always have you smiling or laughing from jokes just so he knows for sure.

Bajo

He doesn't get it at all

He thinks instantly that he did something wrong, especially if you are only around him.

He doesn't mention it or bring it up but you do notice him bringing you small gifts, or little signs of affection that are uncharacteristically gentle and sheepish for him.

When you finally ask him he sorta quietly says he thought you were mad at him and he didn't know why.

When he finds out it's just how your face naturally sits he is so relieved and can't stop showering you in affection when he knows that you aren't upset.

[do-ya-hear-that-sound]

It's time for Sad Zhuk Hours 🥺💔

Memories

Author: Ama

Title: Memories

Pairing: Zhuk/Reader, Reader/OC

Character/s: Zhuk

Word Count: 5, 007 words

Warnings: Dead Reader, angst, ends happy though

Tags: N/A

Prompt: It had been a while since your passing, and Zhuk was not coping. But when he sees you in the Nether, he is overjoyed but quickly discovers that you don’t remember a thing about him. He makes it his mission to try and bring your memories back so the two of you can pick up where you left off. Part Two of Proposal Addict

Notes: So, I wrote a part two of Proposal Addict and the plan was to just make it 10x worse and I did but then it got sad so I made the ending happy-ish? Anyway. Hope you enjoy. - Translations in order at bottom of fic :)

Buy Me a Coffee

Memories 

To say that Zhuk was empty after your passing was, to say the least, an understatement. The longer it took for him to recover, the more concerned the others’ became. But no one could reach out to him, no one could touch him. The already reserved man shut everyone out in fear of being hurt again. The other dons slowly had to take over his workload, originally Zhuk threw himself into his work but eventually? Eventually, even that became too much and did nothing to distract him from that one true fact.

You were gone.

And it was his fault.

Not that he ever admitted it to any of his colleagues, but in the early days, he sought out help. He would sneak into the Netherworld and search for you and, once he realised that the Nether was too vast for him to search alone, he went to the one person that he knew you would have had to have seen before coming here.

His mother.

Juno was less than impressed to see her son at her door, begging, weak. Not what she taught him to be at all. She accosted him, making it known that he was no son of hers. When he informed her that he didn’t want a family reunion, just to know if she had seen you, she sneered.

Keep reading

[justsassysworld]

Five Demons and a Baby Part 3

Five Demons Part 3

Word Count: 1683

The Conglomerate x Fem!reader

Shuddering in nothing like fear, you allow them to show you back to your seat. Instead of letting you sit on your own, Gio waits for Scarabee to settle back in before handing you off. This time he pulls you onto his lap instead of right next to him.

Zhuk sits next to the two of you as the rest choose their spots. Once everyone's settled, Bee turns you to face the group, your back to his chest, your ass cradling his dick.

With all their attention turned to you, you figure they are waiting for you to say something but that is so not happening.

"Shy, chaton," Scarabee whispers against your ear, obviously enjoying your squirming. "But you were so vocal a minute ago."

You turn your head to glare at him, and he just laughs, with some of the others joining in. Pouting, you spin back and let out a sign. "I'm sorry for the snark, but you guys need to understand, I'm a bit of a sardonic asshole. It's not in my nature to play doormat, and it's not a role I'll ever willingly take."

Taking your hand, Zhuk draws your attention. "That is not our intention, zaika. No self respecting man wants a doormat, but we are all dominant men in our own rights, and we will not allow one of our own to come to harm."

"But-"

Gio interrupts you, "Make no mistake, topolina, you are ours, if not as a partner, as a member of the family."

A special warmth spreads through your chest. These men are trusting you, a person they don't know, a person who could be lying about the paternity, but they never doubted you. You were truly starting to believe the rumors of their evilness was drastically exaggerated.

"Thank you for saying that," you say after taking a moment to compose yourself. "What exactly do you mean by wooing? Will they just be dates? Sex? I need to know what to expect."

Chuckles surround you, Scarabee's rumbling against your backs; it would seem they weren't expecting such a blunt question.

"Oh gatita," Bajo sighs, "I for one must say how much I love your forthright nature."

Scarabee lets out a growl and you're confused until he bites out, "She is not your gatita, she is my chaton, pick something else."

"Seriously, amigo?" the Spaniard complains. "What can I call her then?"

"Not mouse.

"Not bunny." Zhuk and Gio say at the same time, making you roll your eyes.

"Fine, is paloma acceptable?" he asks, mainly to Cia.

"Don't fret, a chroi," Cia replies, sending him a wink. "I haven't yet thought of my name for our bonnie less."

Part of you wonders why they can't just call you by your name, while another loves how you feel when they use those pet names. Still, you need answers.

"Now that we have that sorted, could you please answer my question?" you cajole.

"Which one? About the dates or about sex?" Cia smirks. "If ya need a lesson in sex, I'll gladly volunteer, but considering your condition, I'm not sure how much I can teach ya." Yours are not the only eyes rolling.

Before any more jokes can be bandied around, Zhuk draws your attention, "Zaika, we are trying to woo you, you will decide what will happen, sex or no sex."

"I know what I'm voting for," Bajo murmurs, sending you a heated look.

"Now, if that's settled," Gio draws your attention by standing. "I need to get her vitamins ready, she needs to eat, and someone needs to help get her settled."

Seeming to agree, the others stand, even Scarabee, with you in his arms. You squirm to be let down, but he pays you no mind.

Gio quickly exits, but none of the others make a move, not even the man who still isn't letting you down. They start walking and speaking in some language you don't understand. Giving up on escape, you content yourself with mapping out this place, if the need for escape should arise. Of course all the damn doors are closed so you can't actually take stock of the rooms around you.

Huffing out a disappointed sigh, you pout from the cradle of the Cajuns arms, wanting to get where ever you're going so you can get some control back, or at least the option of moving on your own.

Finally you enter a new space, but it's not what you were expecting. It's far from the simple sleeping space you'd envisioned. The scene from the second Princess Diaries movie pops into your mind. Quite honestly, this suite is bigger than your apartment. Your mind is having issues comprehending how the luxury of the space is mixing with your stuff. Simple earth tones counter rich woods, while your more bright colors manage to blend without clashing too much.

Bajo and Cia make their way to the kitchenette, while Zhuk peruses your humble library, and Scarabee settles onto an over stuffed sofa, you in his lap. You watch how the others move about the space, trying to learn what you can about the mixed group without asking any questions.

The pair in the kitchen seem to dance as they work, letting you see their love; they flirt with their smiles, call each other ridiculously cute nick names, and even kiss once or twice. You catch the burly Russian casting longing glances their way, though you can't tell if it's because he wants to join them, or he just wants what they have. When he's not peering at them, he's checking out your small movie collection, obviously caught of guard by some of your selections.

"Well, cher," Scarabee suddenly whispers against your ear. "Ya learnin' anythin'?"

Biting your lip at getting caught, you turn your head slightly to see him. "Maybe, a little."

"Ah, don't leave me in suspense, tell me, mon petite chaton," he demands against your flesh.

"Well," you hedge, wanting time to fight your body's reaction, not that it'll do you any good with their sense of smell. "While you all seem very close, may haps even sexually, Cia and Bajo seem extra close. I'd even say they look like they're in love. I would say Zhuk is the quietest of you, and while some might think it would suggest a more submissive nature, I get the feeling he has more dominance in his little finger then a lot of doms have in their whole body, there's also a loneliness in his eyes. You and Gio seem to be cut from the same cloth, but he's got something hiding beneath the surface. I can't tell what's different between the two of you, but I think you are a bit extroverted to his introvert."

Looking into his eyes, you add, "Your power seems to surround you, where his comes from inside."

His gaze bores into you for a good while and you realize you don't hear anything coming from the rest of the room. Checking the others, you see they are also staring at you.

"What?" you ask, turning back to Scarabee. His palm cups your cheek as he stares at you in wonder.

"Cher, you surprise me," he whispers, drawing you in for a quick kiss.

"How?" Zhuk asks from behind you. You look behind you and see all of them, even Gio, who is standing in the doorway, watching you in shocked amazement.

Fear has you frozen. There is absolutely no way you're going to tell them the truth, that you've read so much fan fiction you've gotten really good at reading people. Nope, that's not something you'll ever admit to. "Uhh," you stall. "I read."

Before they can question you further, you ask, "What's for lunch?"

You get some glares, but Cia is smiling while he brings you a bowl of simple chicken noodle soup. Scarabee carries you to the table, setting you in one of the chairs. Gio hands you a couple of pills as Bajo sets down a glass of water. They each take a seat as the rest of the food is served.

Looking at the pills, you ask," Gio, are these prescription prenatals?"

"Yes, topolina," he replies, taking a bite of his soup.

"How?" confusion stains your voice. "There's no way you could get a prescription this fast."

He flashes you a cocky grin. "Is that so?"

You're about to snap back when strong hands trail down your arms, moving you hands to the table. "Please, a chuid, eat."

Biting your lip, you look up to see Cia staring down at you, concern and kindness swimming in the depths of his eyes. Not wanting to disappoint him, you quickly take a bite of the surprisingly delicious soup before swallowing your pills. Smiling, he moves to his own seat and starts eating.

The sounds of people eating fills the space until Zhuk says, "So, zaika, tell us all about you."

You do just that with a smile, answering every question they send your way. Favorite color, book, movie, and television show, your childhood, family and friends, and all of your dreams, you answer it all, but get very little info in return.

Finally tiring of the sound of your own voice, you ask, "Haven't you heard enough? When do I get to learn more abut you?"

Chuckles are your answer. "My dear, Zaika, we will each tell you all you wish to know, and more, in turn. I will be taking my day with you tomorrow, Gio will follow me, Bajo and Cia will share their days, and Bee will finish us up. Will this work for you?"

Mulling it over, you smile and nod. "Yes, I think I can live with that."

Various pleased looks answer, before the questions begin again. You're tempted to roll your eyes, but there is something so damn sweet about the curiosity of these mysterious men. As much as you don't understand how they can still have things to ask, you guess you'll have just as many when your turn rolls around.

@doyahearthatsound-after-dark,  @1-rosewiththorns

[justsassysworld]

Five Demons and a Baby Part 2

Five Demons and a Baby Part 2

Word Count:2239

The Conglomerate x Fem!reader

Waking, you know instantly that something's wrong. While the bed at your back is without a doubt the most comfortable surface you've ever laid on, it definitely isn't yours. Also, you feel someone, or something, rubbing all over your stomach.

Groaning, you try to bat at the feeling, but a hand clutches your wrist. You growl and try to use the other hand, but find it similarly detained. Grumbling grumpily, you crack your eyes, shutting them quickly, unable to make sense of what you saw. On one side sits Scarabee, scowling at the other man. The other man who is also holding your hand and dragging a strange wand across your stomach, dragging it over some...goo.

Shaking your head, you try again, slowly blinking your eyes open to see...exactly what you thought you saw. Though you also see their attention caught on a small screen, with an unusual whomping sound coming from it.

You draw in a shocked gasp. That indistinguishable blob is you baby, or is it that other light bit? Well, wherever they are, your baby's in there, heartbeat loud and strong.

“Well, Gio,” Scarabee asks, “what is it?”

Confusion, and drowsiness, has you saying, “It's way too early to tell the sex, we still have months before we can find that out.”

He ignores you, remaining focused on his friend.

His friend, Gio you assume, takes pity on you however. “True enough, it is too early to determine sex, but that is not what we are looking at now.”

“What are you looking at then?”

“He's seein' if the bebe is something you could survive havin', chaton,” Scarabee answers, his warm Cajun twang soothing the fear his words inspire.

Before your panic can start setting in, Gio draws your attention. “Breathe, piccola. Everything I see is completely normal. No Rosemary's baby for you.”

“Really?” you sigh out on a relieved giggle, his joke helping immensely, even with his dry tone. “Can you show me?”

While his dour continence is less than reassuring, he has a quiet confidence that keeps you from panicking. With a small nod, he says, “Of course.”

He drags the wand across your belly before stopping to adjust the ultra sound. Getting it where he wanted, he started pointing out parts of the small body, but your gaze caught and stuck. Carefully leaning forward, you brush your finger over their little face.

“Oh,” you gasp out, tears burning your eyes. “They're real.”

Knowing and seeing are two very different things. You hadn't doubted the multiple pregnancy tests, that much, but to see your baby for the first time is far more emotional than could you have ever expected. Which would explain why you don't notice as the three other men from your apartment enter the room.    

Wanting to see Scarabee's reaction, you're shocked to see the crowd of supposedly evil, dangerous men standing behind him, each staring at the screen in wonder.

You gasp in shock and hear your heartbeat speed up on the monitor. This catches their attention.

Four sets of eyes turn to you, Gio fiddling with the machine.

Your mouth opens and shuts, wanting to say something, but not knowing what. Before you can say anything, Gio's up, handing out what looks like little polaroids. Knowing what you'll see, you watch the men's expressions, curious of their thoughts.

The one in the brown vest and shirt with sleeves rolled up is wearing the largest grin you've ever seen, though his eyes do flash before moving to your not yet showing belly. Next to him the tall one has a small smile, eyes crinkled. You see the twinkle of silver in the smile of the last man standing. Catching you looking, he sends you a wink.

Finally, you turn to Scarabee, his breath coming shallow and quick, eyes glowing, though not in the unnatural way they had the night before. It almost looks like he's about to cry. He closes his eyes before letting out a breath. Opening them again, he catches you staring.

“I gotta do some research, but I'll get you some potions for the two of ya within a week,” he says, standing and moving toward the door.

“Potions?” your voice blends with four others, making you giggle.

A hand rests on your shoulder and you turn your head to see Gio scowling at him. Something about that glare getting to you. Biting your lip, you try to hold in your blush.

Before you can question further, he beats you to the punch. "She is not taking any of your hoodoo nonsense. I will get her set up on some prenatals.”

“Human vitamins?” Scarabee growls in confusion. “I don't think so.”

As those two begin to argue over your head, the man with the bun and the vest motions for you to keep quiet and follow him. Glancing at the bickering pair, you decide to go for it. You throw your legs over the side of the bed and stand. The one who winked at you holds out his hand.

Looking back one more time, you bite your lip. Slowly facing the three strangers, you nod your head and take the offered hand.

He flashes you a brief, blinding smile before yanking you from the room. You race through the hall, before he pulls you into a new room. The others follow at a more sedate pace, the tallest pulling the door closed behind him.

It's a beautiful room, though you as far more focused on the beauty of your companions.

The man holding your hand brings it up to his lips, maintaining eye contact. “Hola, gatita. My name is Escarabajo, you may call me Bajo. I'm sure an enchanting creature such as your self must have an equally enchanting name, would you whisper it in my ear?”

Before you can giggle out your response, one of the others pulls your hand away, stealing a kiss for himself.

“Quite hoggin' her, lover,” he mumbles against your hand. “ the name's Ciarog, or Cia. Do you have a name, or shall I just call ya Heaven?”

You're once again cut off when the last man shakes his head, shoves Cia away and motions for you to have a seat in the luxurious leather chair.

As you settle in, he tells you, “I am Zhuk. I apologize for my comrades actions.”

“It's fine,” you reply, before finally managing to tell them your name, “It's nice to meet you.”

Bajo and Cia take a seat on either side of you, seemingly trying to out flirt each other, and to draw you in. Zhuk shakes his head before settling into a chair across the way. As they start getting louder and more crazy, you bite your lip, fighting your laughter.

Just as your about to break and let out a guffaw, a loud roar shakes the room.

Terror seizes you. You think of standing, but none of the others even react, as if they're used to such disturbances.

The door bangs open, reminding you of last night. Scarabee storms in, Gio close behind.

“Bee, mate,” Cia says without looking up. “We've been gettin' to know your baby mama. D'ya know where we're puttin' her?”

Not liking how he phrased that,implying a lack of autonomy on your part. You're about to let them have it, but they beat you to the punch, each man declaring that he knows best.

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you stand, crossing your arms over your chest. Who do these assholes think they are? Deciding what's best for me and my baby. They don't even know me.

You march over to the door, hell bent on finding your shit and getting the hell out of there. Just as you yank the door open, it's slammed shut, shadows encumbering you once again.

Frustrated, you wheel back around to find they've stopped fighting each other and all focused on one thing: you.

Squaring your shoulders, you glare back at them, refusing to be cowed. Even if you are still wearing your pajamas and power is pouring off them in waves. Who cares if the dominant gleam in all their eyes is doing something interesting to your belly, and nipples, and...other parts? You're a strong woman who will stand up for herself, even if your body is begging to curl up in any of their strong arms.

I will not let them win, you tell yourself, even as you catch Cia licking his lips and Bajo flashing his fangs in a uniquely alluring manner.

No surrender, you remind yourself as Zhuk draws in a deep breath, making his already massive chest expand to breath catching results.

No, your inner voice weakly protests as you notice Gio's ringed fingers, his thick, masculine fingers that are clenching against his cane. The things he could do to you with those fingers and that cane.

There is no more protesting voice as you catch sight of Scarabee's rapidly swelling pants, your mind no longer able to comprehend anything else.

As you focused on them, your arms dropped and you took on a glazed expression. Your change in demeanor does not go unnoticed, though you miss their shared wicked glances as they come to a silent agreement.

Scarabee steps forward, breaking through a bit of your stupor. You watch as he prowls toward you, leaving you feeling like a helpless bunny, unable to run from the wolves' awaiting fangs.

His cool fingers dance along your jaw, dragging your gaze up to his mismatched one. “Come sit back down and we'll discuss our plans.”

Unable to resist his his southern charms, you let him lead you over to a small love seat. He helps you settle in, taken the seat next to you while the others find places of their own.

Assured that you're comfortable, and not going anywhere, he begins talking. “Mon petite chaton, I know many things have been changin' for you lately, and that you don't like us forcin' more on you, but with the bebe and yourself at risk, we cannot let you leave here. At least, not without one of us accompanyin' you.”

“We? Us?” you ask. “I can understand you going all domineering, but what does that have to do with the rest of them?”

Chuckling darkly, he grabs your hips and hoists you onto his lap, fingers trapping you on his lap. “Oh cherie, do you not remember the things I said that night? Do you think I don't remember how your pulse jumped and your body clenched when I told you about my friends and how I longed to share you with them? Even now the flavor of your arousal is filling the air.” He pulls you even closer, smirking as your breath comes in pants, your fingers digging into his chest.

“Now that you've seen them, can't you just picture it? One of us inside your tight pussy, another buried deep in your ass, one in your sweet mouth, eating you out, playing with your tits, so many possibilities. Between the five of us we can make all your wildest dreams come true.”

“Ah!” you squeak. You had forgotten how good he was at dirty talk, how hot he had gotten you with just a few simple words. Now you can't stop fantasizing. So many positions, so many combinations, even more if any of them swing towards bi.

“Here's what we're gonna do,” his voice drawing you back to the moment. “You will take the rest of the day to unpack and settle in, then we will each take a day to get to know you, for you to get to know us. Once you get a feel for us individually, we'll spend a day together, all of us. After that you'll have a day to decide.”

“Decide what?”

“What you want us to be. If you can see yourself bein' with us, if you could give yourself to us.”

That is not what you were expecting. Taking a minute to sort your thoughts, you bite your lip and play with his collar. Finally you ask, “And if I decide 'no'?”

Scarabee looks to the others and so do you. You see their answers written in their eyes, letting your mind calm.

“We will respect your wishes, of course.”

You relax, a grateful smile threatening, then he adds, “But you will still be stayin' here.”

“What? Shouldn't I get a say?”

“No!” comes the resounding reply from the whole room.

Arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you up and finding you surrounded on all sides. “I was not kidding, cher. It is far too dangerous out there for you.”

“Don't you mean 'for the baby'?” you snark, hating that they aren't giving a say in your own damn life.

Your head is suddenly yanked back, a firm hand coiled in your hair. “Careful, topolina,” the voice you recognize as Gio's growls in your ear. “We all know you're going through a difficult time, but that does not excuse disrespect.” His breath beats against your cheek. “If I catch you using that tone again, there will be punishment.”

His threat sends an unknown thrill through you, one you will never, ever, ever admit to. So biting your lip to hold back a moan, you simply nod.

“Good girl.”

[beetlebitchywitch]

Just fuck me up, Kat

So ok, she gave me an actual longer request via Discord, but enjoy some quality time with Gio 😏

Summary: Gio asks you to model for him. That’s it, that’s the post. 

(NSFW WARNING ⚠️)

   It was a gorgeous Spring morning the day that Scarafaggio finally tracked you down within the estate, bedecked handsomely in a red velvet robe with a mug of tea clasped gently in one hand.

   “Do you have a moment, bambi?” he asked, his voice still gruff from sleep. You grinned softly at him from your place by the day window and nodded, gazing out over the ample gardens where Bajo was already hard at work tending to his flowers. You enjoyed your little morning routine- each day, you’d wake up in a different bed, roll out of the arms of one of the men you adored more than life itself, and pad silently to the kitchen, where you’d pour yourself a mug of already brewed coffee (thank God that Bee liked to wake up so early) and curl up in the window seat of the breakfast nook, providing you the perfect view of the estate grounds dotted with the now-blooming flowers that Bajo worked so hard to cultivate. It was a beautiful sight, especially in the midmorning sun, but it seemed even better now that Gio seemed to be joining you. He slid onto the seat next to you, unable to stop himself from pressing an adoring kiss to your cheek.

   “It would seem you have the day to yourself, hmm?” he asked, watching along with you as Bajo tenderly pruned his most prized rose bush, roses he bred to bloom into the most gorgeous royal purple you’d ever seen. He even named them after you, the hopeless romantic.

   “I do,” you replied, sipping gratefully at your coffee. “The others are so busy, even though it’s Saturday. You think century-old demons would’ve learned how to manage their time by now.” You sent him a playful wink, which received a gruff chuckle in return. “Why? Did you have something in mind?”

   “As a matter of fact, I do,” he replied, though a tad more seriously than expected, which piqued your interest. What could he possibly have planned that required that kind of tone? He shifted to face you more directly, so you turned your attention away from Bajo and his roses and focused it on him. “I’ve been meaning to take advantage of the lovely early afternoon light that hits the smoking room for a bit of photography, and I wondered if you might be interested in modeling for me.”

   Well, that seems easy enough, you thought, taking another long sip of your coffee as you took him in over the rim of the mug. It was very unlike Gio to seem so...unsure of himself.

   “Of course, marito,” you said, hoping the pet name would reassure him. “Since when is modeling such a tall order?”

   He cleared his throat nervously, running his fingers through his already slicked back hair.

   “Well...the light would look gorgeous on your skin, bambi,” he explained, quirking an eyebrow questioningly. “I wondered if you might be willing to...reveal a bit more of it?”

   Ah. So that’s why he seemed so off. You couldn’t help but smirk, your gaze turning mischievous as you set your coffee aside, taking his hand in yours and rubbing the pad of your thumb across the back of it.

   “Scarafaggio,” you began, your voice hushed with faux offense. “Are you asking me to pose nude? The scandal!” He smacked affrontedly at your shoulder, pulling a delighted laugh from your lips. “Honestly, darling, you’d think you were asking me to help you kill a man.”

   “Well, it can be a great deal to ask of someone!” he retorted, and you suspected that he’d be blushing if he were capable of it. “How easy would it be for you to ask me to pose nude?”

   “I pegged you last night, my love,” you replied slyly, throwing a wink in for good measure. “You’ll find that my shyness when it comes to you has markedly declined since when we first met.”

   Oh, now you know he’d be blushing. You grinned excitedly as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck with embarrassment flitting across his face before being replaced with faux stoicism.

   “You have one hour to prepare yourself for me,” he said, obviously trying not to let your mischievous glee get to him. “Wear that lingerie set I like, yes? The pink one.”

   And with that, he slid off the window seat, retreating back down the hall and leaving nothing but the amusing sound of grumpy Italian muttering in his wake. Never a dull day with Gio around, it seemed. You quickly downed the rest of your rapidly cooling coffee before tossing the mug in the dishwasher and retreating back to your room. You only had an hour to get ready, after all.

   When the time came, you walked confidently to the smoking room, wrapped luxuriously in a long silk robe to hide your nearly nude body from prying eyes. With your hair pulled back in a loose braid and your makeup applied flawlessly, you simply couldn’t help but feel as sublime as you knew Gio’s camera would make you look. You rapped gently on the large wooden door before pressing inside, shocked by how bright the room could get with the heavy velvet curtains pulled back to let the sunlight in. He was right, the lighting was simply spectacular with the sun where it was in the sky, especially in the corner where the chaise lounge, now expertly framed to be photographed, laid. Gio’s head turned to you, a proud smile playing on his lips as he took you in. He held his hands out to you and you rushed to him, placing yours in his as he spun you, watching the robe flutter out gorgeously behind you.

   “My darling, you have outdone yourself,” he praised, clearly delighted by your beauty even with the robe still on. He let one hand come up to cradle your cheek, his eyes trained adoringly on your face. “Never in my life have I been blessed with such a spectacular model. Come, come…” He ushered you into frame, your skin already starting to warm under the light of the sun as he pushed at your shoulders until you sank, sprawling out on the chaise lounge. He was a flurry of hands as he positioned you for the first shot, with one leg up on the lounge and the other stretched the floor, your robe spilling over the edge of the seat like a curtain of inky blackness. In the light of the early afternoon sun, you were simply stunning, and Gio couldn’t help but feel pride well up in his chest at the sight of you framed so beautifully in his viewfinder, your body a masterpiece he just happened to be lucky enough to depict. A few more photos of you in the robe and he was satisfied- while he adored the sight of you dripping in fine Italian silk, he had to admit, no mere fabric could ever compare to your bare skin, no matter how luxurious its craftsmanship.

   “Stand up for me, piccola,” Gio commanded softly. You obeyed, gazing out the window towards the garden again as he adjusted the camera’s height, saddened by Bajo’s absence from the colorful scene, his work in the garden likely finished for the day. You truly did enjoy watching him work, but you couldn’t let yourself get distracted from the task at hand. Once the camera was at the correct height, Gio turned his attention back to you, anticipation burning like hot coals in his eyes. “I want you to untie the robe for me, my dear. Slowly now, there you go…”

   He encouraged you softly, gently, as your fingers gingerly gripped the sash holding the robe together. He murmured sweetly in Italian as you slowly, slowly undid the knot, shivering at the sound of the shutter clicking with every photo he took. Your fingers slid just barely along your skin as you let the robe fall open, revealing the baby pink lingerie set Gio adored so much, the fine lace cradling your breasts gorgeously and framing the swell of your ass more perfectly than any other set you owned. So much of your body was still hidden, and yet you suddenly felt more exposed than ever, Gio’s eyes wide and adoring as he watched you intently.

   “That’s it, there’s a good girl,” he encouraged softly, his whisper quiet voice still managing to bounce through the rest of the room. “Now, I want you to slowly, very slowly, start to slide it off. Let it slide just off your shoulders, let your fingers only barely kiss your skin. You’re doing wonderfully, così splendida, la mia ragazza perfetta…”

   You couldn’t help but obey, your hands almost moving on their own just from the sound of his velvety voice caressing your ear. You felt nearly enveloped by the sweet crooning of Italian as the robe slid from your shoulders, the barely-there caress of your fingers along with Gio’s gentle murmurs raising goosebumps across your newly exposed skin, despite the warmth of the sunlight now kissing your shoulders. God… You could feel the pleasant weight of Gio’s attention, could almost imagine the way his eyes trailed over each tantalizing inch of skin you revealed as he encouraged you in words you didn’t understand, didn’t need to understand. With every second, the robe dropped lower and lower, held up only by your forearms as it pooled beautifully around your hips, exposing your breasts fully to the focus of the camera. Oh God, you could picture it, your body glowing in a halo of radiant sunlight, the moment in time captured forever, and it made you shiver as the silk continued to slip off of your body. Your mind wandered, imagining all the ways Gio would pose you, reveal you, expose you...you fell so deep into the fantasy that you didn’t even hear the door when it opened.

   “Scarafaggio, mi amigo, you would not believe the luck I am having,” Bajo exclaimed, striding seemingly unknowingly into the room, a large bouquet of assorted blooms in his hand. “Take a look at these newest blossoms, see how gorgeous they...h-how gorgeous they...oh…” His gaze had finally fallen on you, fully enraptured as the robe finally slipped off your body and onto the floor, a puddle of black silk pooled at your feet. You felt the urge to cover up as his hungry eyes dragged up your body, devouring every inch of you with his gaze, but you held firm despite the blush creeping up your neck to stain your cheeks.

   “She is sublime, is she not, Escarabajo?” Gio crooned, taking a moment to step away from the camera and let his eyes travel their own journey across your exposed body. You shied under their dual gazes, feeling yourself shamefully growing wet under their attention.

   “Indeed,” Bajo sighed, not daring to look away as he set his freshly cut flowers on the nearest armchair. “My flowers cannot compare to you at this moment, gatita. To what occasion do I owe the honor of getting to see this lovely display?” Ah, there it was, his signature ferality, his words drawled out through a hungry grin as he began to circle you, his footsteps landing heavy on the hardwood floor.

   “I’ve asked her to model for me, mio amico,” Gio explained. Suddenly, he perked up, as if a lightbulb had just gone on above his head. In an instant, he wore a matching grin to Bajo’s, sending a shiver down your spine as they both looked you over the way hungry sharks look at their next meal. “Perhaps you’d like to be of assistance?”

   Oh. Bajo stopped just behind you, and you froze as you could feel his breath dancing over your shoulder. It was silent, his presence so obvious despite not a single part of him touching you as you waited, waited for his answer. You trembled slightly, your breath coming out in soft pants, when a single finger traced its way down your spine, Christ, just barely grazing your skin, and he chuckled as you were wracked by a full body shiver.

   “It would be my pleasure,” he murmured, suddenly so close to your ear and you were gasping, fighting the urge to fall back into his arms. Gio clapped his hands together excitedly, breaking you from your reverie.

   “Excellent!” he exclaimed, quickly reaching into his pocket and pulling out...oh. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind putting this on her for me, then?”

   Oh God.

In his hand laid a baby pink collar, clearly crafted from fine leather with a small silver heart dangling from the center.

Oh God.

From here, you could tell it was engraved, and you bit your lip around a tiny whimper- you suspected it was your name. You didn’t need to see Bajo’s face to know that he was grinning like a madman.

   “‘Not minding’ is an understatement,” he chuckled striding over to take the collar from Gio’s hand before turning to you, a feral glint in his eye. “Well, querida, you heard the man. Kneel.”

   In an instant, your knees gave out, your body sinking to the floor with a painful sounding crack. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care, because Bajo was moving to stand behind you, Gio already poised and ready at the camera. You gasped as he ran his hand down your braid, a briefly comforting touch that preceded him slowly positioning the collar around your neck, the edges of his fingers tantalizingly grazing your sensitive skin as he fastened it, while all the while Gio was snapping photo after photo. When he pulled his hands away and the collar remained, you turned your head back and forth, testing out the feeling of the firmness around your neck. You could hear Gio’s gentle sigh from across the room and lifted your gaze to see him watching you adoringly.

   “You look...marvelous, piccola,” he murmured, snapping another photo of your ever-present blush. “The collar suits you. After all, it should- I am the one who made it.”

   ...That. Something about that did things to you. This wasn’t just a collar, it was his collar. He created it, just for you, to have you, to own you. You couldn’t help but whimper at the thought, your mind feeling like it was slowly filling up with wool as the weight of their dominance fully settled over you. You weren’t necessarily expecting this, but far be it from you to complain. You heard Bajo chuckle faintly, his hand landing comfortingly on your shoulder.

   “You like that, do you, querida?” he asked, letting his thumb stroke gently over your skin. You nodded, remaining silent and fighting not to hang your head you slid comfortably into your submission. “Such a good girl. What will you have her do next, Scarafaggio?”

    “Well, I’ll need her standing,” Gio commented, and in an instant you felt two pairs of hands under your arms, lifting you back onto your feet. You await his direction, fully ready to do whatever he asks of you. “Escarabajo...undo her braid for me, won’t you?”

   You gasped, watching as Gio positioned himself behind the camera again. You fought the urge to let your head loll backwards onto Bajo’s shoulder as he stood closer to you, his chest nearly pressed up against the smooth expanse of your back. He smirked, letting his fingers drag from your hips all the way up to your neck, chuckling softly as you shivered from the gentle touch. He got to work, slowly undoing your braid and letting your tresses fall back to your shoulders. Your eyes slid shut at the feeling of his fingers every so often grazing the nape of your neck- he undid your hair as if he were engaging in an act of worship, treating each strand as if it were a sacred artifact to be handled with care. Each time his fingers grazed your skin, you gasped, bucking up onto your tiptoes for a moment as the sensation shot through you like electricity. Your entire body was pulled taut, each little touch feeling like too much and not enough all at once. You longed for rough gropes, pawing hands, and biting lips, but what you got was the barest of touches to your skin as the last of your hair fell from the braid, cascading down your back as Bajo began to press reverent little kisses to your shoulder. You shuddered listening to the click of Gio’s camera capturing the intimate moment with Bajo’s arms wrapped around you, his hands splayed out across your stomach as his kisses grew more insistent.

  “Calm yourself, mio amico,” Gio chuckled, snapping yet another photo. “I haven’t even told you to remove her bra yet.”

   “Well, I believe you should remedy that, shouldn’t you?” Bajo retorted, his breath puffing out warmly against your sensitive skin. Gio chuckled, not hiding his obvious arousal from the situation as he let his eyes rove over your exposed skin. Not exposed enough, it seemed.

   “Yes, I believe you’re right. Unhook her bra and slide it off, but nice and slow, understand? I want as many shots of this as I can manage,” he instructed. Bajo nodded and let his hands wander from your stomach to your back, gentle fingers playing with the delicate hooks holding your bra in place. Your back arched from the near tickle of a touch, your head finally lolling back to rest against his shoulder as he achingly slowly undid one, two, all three hooks. Suddenly, your bra was slowly sliding from your shoulders, revealing your hardened nipples to the cool air as the camera shutter clicked away, capturing the moment in all of its glory. You sighed softly as the bra hit the floor and Bajo slid it out of the way with his foot, unable to stop himself from letting his hands travel up your body to knead at your breasts. Gio chuckled at your sharp gasps, immediately starting to take several photos in succession of the scene before him. Bajo’s hands were large and cool, the metal of one of his rings tracing teasingly across a nipple- he reveled in your immediate shiver from the touch and let the tips of his fingers gently roll the hardened buds, pinching and squeezing them until you were panting before the camera’s unyielding lens, shot after shot being captured of your growing need. The very thought of the pictures it was taking, you at Bajo’s mercy with your nipples being teased, made your knees wobble where you stood, so you leaned back against him harder, not wanting the pleasure to overwhelm you to the point that you actually fell. He held you up gladly, the soft material of his shirt sliding over the smooth expanse of your back as he continued playing with you, teasing you as he leaned up to whisper in your ear.

   “You like this, don’t you, gatita?” he murmured, his breath puffing hotly over your ear and sending a warm shiver down your spine. “You like knowing he’s capturing this moment and how desperate you look for us in that gorgeous little collar, hmm? Imagine each image, how perfectly it shows off your beauty as I take you apart. Would you like to see them when we’re done, querida? Would you like to see how delicious you look?”

   Christ. You nodded, arching up into his touch as he practically tortured your nipples, each agonizing moment captured on film by Gio, who was clearly delighting in the little display, though certainly not enough to not want to change things up.

   “Move her back to the chaise, if you would, mio amico,” Gio instructed, already readjusting the camera. Bajo obliged, thankfully guiding you into a seated position that took the stress off of your trembling legs. Gio looked you over contemplatively and you could see the gears turning in his mind as he thought up the next few photos he’d like to take. “...Spread her legs for me.”

   You couldn’t even describe the ferality of Bajo’s grin as he happily obliged, grabbing each of your knees and spreading them apart until your legs were as wide as they could comfortably be, a thin scrap of pink lace the only thing keeping your pussy hidden from the camera. Still, Gio seemed unhappy- something was missing. He contemplated it for a moment, when suddenly, he perked up, his eyes darting over to the nearest armchair.

   “You wouldn’t happen to be willing to spare a few flowers, would you? I believe our piccola principessa would look simply sublime with a few petals strewn across her body, si?”

   “I couldn’t agree more, mi amigo,” Bajo replied, quickly striding over to his freshly cut flowers and picking out a few gorgeous peonies, their soft pink almost matching the color of your panties. He began plucking petals from the stem as he approached you, his feet falling heavy on the hardwood floor with every step. When he reached you, he had a full handful of delicate pink petals.

   “Lay back now, mariposa,” he instructed softly, notedly gently despite the hunger in his eyes. You obliged, leaning back on your elbows as he began sprinkling the peonies across your body, the baby pink petals laying delicately across your flushed skin. One even landed directly on one of your nipples, a featherlight touch that still made you gasp. When he was finished, you were heavily adorned with the blossoms, feeling like Persephone herself before Gio’s camera as he once again began snapping photos of you. You could feel your thighs trembling from how wide they were spread, the petals strewn their shaking like leaves as the two men watched on in delight.

   “I was right to have asked you to model for me,” Gio sighed reverently, zooming in for his next shot. “You are exquisite, bambi, the crown jewel of all our treasure, a goddess we are not fit to worship.” You whimpered at his poetic words, head lolling back as Gio took by far his favorite picture yet: you, your head thrown back with your lower lip worried between your teeth, body adorned gorgeously in flower petals and spread thighs trembling, just begging to be bitten. He suspected Bajo was thinking the same thing, given the way he licked his lips at the sight of you. “Bajo... I think she’s a bit overdressed. Don’t you?”

   Oh God. Your head flew forward, watching wide eyed as the two dons shared similarly mischievous, hungry grins as Bajo nodded. Having gotten more than enough photos of you with the flower petals, Gio moved from behind the camera to approach you, letting his hand swipe away the delicate blossoms before crouching in front of you, eyeing you intently. Bajo quickly took his place behind the camera, ready for whatever was to follow. Without breaking eye contact for a second, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and slowly, painfully slowly, pulled them down your legs, the camera shutter echoing throughout the room as Bajo photographed you each time your panties slid down so much as an inch. You’d gotten used to being without your bra, but without your panties, you suddenly felt incredibly exposed, each click of the camera shutter sending warm heat to pool in the pit of your stomach as it captured you in your most vulnerable state. When the panties were finally at your ankles, Gio pulled them off and tossed them aside. With a triumphant little smirk, he dragged both hands from your knees up to your inner thighs before spreading your legs once more, baring you to the camera’s invading eye and reveling in your immediate shudder. You fought the urge to close your legs again, especially with the way the two dons were staring you down so hungrily. It was all so much- you could practically feel their gazes on your skin, featherlight and gentle like their fingers, and it raised goosebumps across your entire body. The first click of the camera with your pussy so exposed to it was like a bolt of electricity traveling down your spine and you bucked up, unwittingly exposing yourself even more to their obvious delight.

“Such a pretty little thing,” Gio cooed, letting one finger tease along the edge of your pussy, tugging one lip aside for Bajo to photograph and pulling a choked off gasp from your lips. “Do you have any idea how difficult it's been to watch you, to photograph you, without being able to touch you? You look...you’re divine, la mia piccola dea.” His voice was hushed, awed, like he was daring to touch a precious masterpiece as he let one finger drag up between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips and just barely tracing over your clit. His barely-there touch was just enough to tantalize you, your body pulled as taut as a bowstring and ready to snap. You needed him, his touch, his words, his adoration, you simply needed it all and you were willing to beg to get it.

“P-please,” you stammered, eyes scrunching shut as you dug your fingers into your own thigh. “Marito, please, I...it’s so much, I need you, please…”

“Well, how could we refuse when you beg so sweetly?”

Your eyes flew open. You knew that voice. You whipped your heads towards the door, and standing there were the rest of the dons, arms folded across their chests and matching grins plastered on their faces. It was Zhuk who took a few steps forward, eyeing you up and down with a predatory glint in his eyes. “Well now, tsarina, don’t stop on our account.”

“Ah, welcome,” Gio greeted them, rubbing one hand comfortingly along your inner thigh. “We were simply having a little photoshoot with our darling girl. Tell me, gentlemen...you wouldn’t want to join us, would you?”

Oh God.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to impose, but…”

Oh God.

“If you insist on it, mo chara…”

Fuck.

“She does look mighty pretty, doesn’t she…”

You watched the men approach you as if in slow motion, rolling up their sleeves and licking their lips as if preparing for a meal. This was it. You were done for.

...And what a lovely way to go.

[do-ya-hear-that-sound]

*Gasps softly* I love it

The Ghost and the She-wolf

Part 6

—-

This one is looooong. It might be the longest yet. I’m also dumping in some lore, some backstory, and a whole bunch of angst so brace yourselves!

Zhuk, pirate or otherwise, and the Mafia!Beejs brought to you by @monsterlovinghours 

[TW: Mentions of torture, nothing descriptive but proceed with caution.]

Tag list: @beetlejuicebeadoll , @do-ya-hear-that-sound , @dilfyjuice , @nikkivfx , @insomni-snacc , @young-erstill

—-

In a daze, you allowed Zhuk to steer you aft. Being submerged had put out the few remaining fires licking at the ship, and the crewmen had already unlashed themselves and begun to get to work clearing the deck of the blackened and burnt mainsail. Your head was full to bursting with questions, so much so that you couldn’t even decide which to ask first. So you held your silence as the two of you passed through the doorway into the narrow corridor. He paused and you kept going, stilling when you felt his hand part company with your lower back and turning to see where he’d gone. He had managed to squeeze his large frame into one of the small cabins that lined the hall, emerging moments later with folded clothing held in his hand. “Here,” he said softly, offering it to you. “Feel free to use my cabin to change.” You swallowed down a fluttering feeling in your chest, turning and walking ahead of him as he gestured you onward with a sweep of his arm. Zhuk shut the door behind him as you crossed awkwardly to the center of the room, looking around uncertainly as if waiting for his permission. “Ladies first,” he said with a smile, motioning to the privacy screen in the corner. You gulped again, perturbed by the jittery sensations bubbling from deep inside as you padded meekly behind the screen. You tugged the end a little closer to the wall for good measure. 

It was more difficult getting the dress off than it had been to put it on, but that was probably more due to your trembling fingers and the uncooperative nature of heavy wet fabric adhering to your damp and chilled skin. After struggling for a few moments you managed to shimmy your way out of the ruined and sodden layers of skirts, pooling on the floor around your feet. The sound of movement from outside your private little nook drew your attention and you stood on tiptoe to peek over the screen. Zhuk stood by his bunk facing away from you, shucking his own drenched jacket and tossing it across the arms of the chair behind his desk. His equally drenched tunic clung to his broad back, showing off the fine musculature between his shoulder blades. Your eyes watched them work as he reached back with both hands and began to peel the soggy shirt off over his head. You were shocked at yourself when you realized your cheeks were warming, torn between looking away to give him the privacy he had considerately given to you and indulging in the chance to see him in a state of semi-undress. 

Keep reading

[yankyo]

Punishment

Scarabee x Reader 

warnings: scarabee punishing you for creeping into his study, eyy, slight daddy kink 

He wasn’t supposed to find you like this, he wasn’t even supposed to be home yet, but as you found yourself elbow deep in old books you definitely shouldn’t be reading, his deep voice called your name from the doorway, his tone a low and irritated growl. Ah, today must not have gone very well for them... which meant you were just doubly screwed. Fuck.

“You mind letting me know what the fuck you’re doing in my office, cher?” He asked, sauntering into the room as if he hadn’t a care in the world, but his eyes remained trained on you, cold, dark, unyielding. 

“Would you believe that I was cleaning?” you asked, your voice a squeak as you tried to scramble back away from his approaching form, but in the end, all you managed to do was aid him in pinning you back against the desk. 

”Cleaning?” He echoed, setting a hand on the desk besides you to pin you in, “What were you ‘cleaning’ on this page?” He snapped his fingers and the book you had hurriedly slammed shut fell open once more to the spell you had eagerly been taking in. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He looked over the page critically, his dual colored eyes flicking back to yours. “What use would a little thing like you have for summoning demons, don't you think you have enough of us?” He towered over you, his body so close to yours that his cologne enveloped you, with each breath in you took in the soft smell of smoke, cinnamon and sandalwood. It was a calming scent, despite the situation, you wanted to just lean against him, close your eyes and forget about everything else. Fuck, you really should be looking for your escape route. If you could just get back out to the common area, surely you could hide behind the others and avoid punishment, right? you could just kick out his cane, duck under his arm and run down the hallway, freedom was so, so, near. 

As if he could sense your thoughts, Scarabee stepped aside, freeing your path as he began gathering up his books, putting them back in their place as if you weren’t even there. 

“...W....weren’t you going to punish me or something?” you found yourself tentatively speaking up. What the hell are you doing? Run while you have the chance!

“Do you want a punishment, ti kras sòsyè?” He replied, sounding more amused than anything. “It looks to me like you're just asking for attention here, should I reward the bad behavior and give you what you want?” Heat burned at your cheeks, a sputter escaping you as you tried to square your shoulders and seem taller. 

“I’m not asking for attention!” you barked back, only for all that fire to immediately fizzle right back out as he turned to face you once more. 

"So you just happened to find your way into my office today?” you took a step back as he took one forwards, your heart pounding in your chest “Just as I came home?” you hit the desk again, your legs already trembling, “Knee deep in the books I clearly told you to stay away from?"  His hand slammed down on the desk, the sound echoing through the room and making you flinch down, half wondering if you could just bolt now. 

"...yes" another pathetic squeak that made him laugh this time, his other hand rising to take your chin and force your head up to look at him. 

"I don't believe you." Came his whisper, a cold feeling creeping up your spine, too solid for you to think it was anything but him. "See, I know you, little girl. And I know how you like to toe that line. As much as you love being my good girl, you like it when I'm rough with you, don't you?" you couldn't answer, could hardly even breath. The cold feeling coiled around your body, just a constant presence that curled around your hips, between your thighs, over your neck, enveloping you. "But you're just too shy to come out and ask for it, aren't you?" His voice took on a mocking tone now, his brows raised in false sympathy. "Poor girl doesn't know how to ask for me to be mean, isn't that right?" you tried to protest, but when you opened your mouth, the presence at your throat tightened and all that came out was a gasp. "You're not going to get what you want unless you beg for it." you tried to pull your hands back from his chest, but you were glued at your spot, barely even able to tremble as you lost yourself in his eyes. “Détends-toi, chérie, laisse-moi te tenir, laisse-moi prendre soin de toi, tout ce que tu as à faire c'est de te donner à moi.” With each word, your body felt heavier until it was just his body against yours holding you up, until it was his hand on your chin keeping your head up, “Tell me the truth,” his touch was so gentle now as he lifted you to sit you up on the desk, the shadowy tendrils trailing over your body light and tender

“I...” your voice was back, but still you hesitated, something stopping the words in your throat. His thumb brushed over your lips, the touch achingly soft and sweet. 

“tu n'as pas à te sentir timide, douce, je prendrai tellement soin de toi, tu sais que je le fais toujours.” His words settled in your very being, the soft rumble of his voice setting a flame within you. 

“I wanted attention.” The admittance made you blush, the burn in your cheeks flaring all the hotter when he chuckled lowly. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Good girl.” Papers were being pushed aside, something fell to the ground, but you hardly noticed as you were laid back on the desk with the demon hovering over you, his eyes trailing down your body. “Now, what kind of attention do you want? Did you want soft, sweet?” The shadows clung to your body, chilling you to the bone but your shivers had nothing to do with the cold as they slipped beneath your clothing, caressing your skin softly. 

“No.” The word was little more than a gasp, but you knew he had heard you clearly as a sharp toothed grin spread across his face. In one swift motion, you were flung over, your chest pressed down against the desk as your hands were bound behind your back. His hands ghosted over your hips, the touch feather light before he reached up to lace a hand in your hair and yank your head back harshly. 

“Mwen te konnen li, ou te vle m 'chire ou apa.” your clothing was being torn off, shreds of fabric falling from your body and exposing you to the cold air, but you could hardly bring yourself to care, not when the soft fabric of his suit pants pressed against your thighs from behind, not when he was nudging your legs apart so that he could grind slowly into you, his hard cock throbbing within his clothes. “Now, how many lashes do you think you deserve? Sneaking into my office, messing with my books, lying to me all so you could get my cock like the little whore you are, that’s quite a list of crimes you’ve wracked up.” you whined softly, trying to hold yourself still, trying so hard not to press back against him. “I’m asking you a question, little one, I expect an answer.” His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you back, your back arched uncomfortably now, even as the brush of his stubble against your neck made you shiver. 

“15?” you squeaked out the first number that came to mind, not missing the way that his lips curled into a smirk against your skin, the shadows coiled around your body once more, pushing you back down into the desk, your back arched and your ass presented for him. For a moment, nothing happened, leaving you to shift uncomfortably in place before one of the shadow tendrils whipped down to strike you. you yelped at the sensation, but the bonds holding you down kept you from moving an inch as the tendrils continued to hit you, not giving you a moment to acclimate or even breathe before the next one hit. Strike after strike, each one varying in speed and strength, some curling along your thighs to keep you from closing your legs or shifting away. Just as quickly as the barrage started, it ended and his cold hand coasted up the curve of your ass, his touch soothing the already rising welts. 

“There, 15.” He was already pulling away, walking around his desk to take a seat, leaving you to slowly slide down to your feet and shift awkwardly, already missing his touch. Did he really smack your 15 times? That felt too short, you wanted more. “Cher, come here, sweetness.” you lifted your head at the sound of his voice, but didn’t yet meet his eyes, even as you walked over to stand before him, even as he easily scooped you up to set you in his lap. you let out a hiss as sensitive skin brushed against his pants, the material no longer feeling so soft, but didn’t fight as he settled your in his lap with his arms wrapped around your. “You’re not satisfied, are you, sweetness?” you peeked back at him, your blush back, but you found yourself shaking your head slowly. “You’re being very honest now, pensiez-vous que c'était la fin, jolie fille? Vous ai-je déjà laissé insatisfait?” 

“No.” you admitted softly, biting your lip to keep from hissing again as he shifted your in his lap, your legs spread open to lay across his.

“C'est vrai. Je m'occupe de mes affaires, je ne vais pas te lâcher avant d'avoir pris tout ce que je peux te donner'' He spoke so sweetly, but the words made your shudder, especially as the tendrils began creeping up your legs once more. “Now, I want you to be a good girl and be very quiet for me, can you handle that?” He paused for a moment to give your time to shakily nod before the tendril pressed into your. you bit your lip, swallowing the whine as it filled your. Behind you, Scarabee was gathering up the papers and reorganizing his desk as if you weren’t there at all. you was left to try and maintain some kind of composure as the shadow continued to fuck your laguidly, another snaking its way up your body to force its way past your lips, another pressed against your clit and began to vibrate, while the rest slowly but surely covered your body. 

There was no real telling how long you had been there, you lost track in the endless writhing of tentacles, in the mundane sounds of him writing what could have been a report, could have been a message to the other dons, hell, it could have been meaningless scribbles for all it mattered to your. you couldn’t claim you were paying any real attention, not when the shadow pulsed within your, writhing against your walls in a way that would have made your scream if not for the tendril currently stopping your breath as it pushed its way into your throat. There was the slide of his jacket against your back as he shifted your, the way you would rock against his thigh, surely ruining his dress pants with just how wet you were, the hum of his voice in your ear - soft, carefree, smug. you wanted to cum already, but for all the stimulation, you teetered on that edge for what seemed like forever. So fucking close, but just not close enough. 

It was only when you couldn’t help the soft whimpers that were escaping nor the tears that had begun to stream down your face that he finally gave your attention again, crooning so softly as he turned your around to face him, his touch blissfully cold as his thumbs wiped away the tears staining your cheeks. 

“Shh, you did so well, baby girl. You were so patient with me.” He murmured, those dual colored eyes shimmering again, making your tightly wound body relax in his hold once more. “I know what you need. I’m going to give it to you.” you were effortlessly lifted in the air, a doll in his grasp as he unzipped his pants and finally, finally sank your down onto his cock. The blissful burn of the stretch had you whining softly, moaning out his name as he stroked your hips, but he only gave you a moment to get used to him before his gentle grasp once more turned hard. A scream echoed through his study as he lifted you up before you was slammed right back down into his lap. His stubble burned at your neck as he pressed against oversensitive skin, kisses swiftly turning into bites that would certainly leave bruises for weeks to come. It was all you could do to hold onto him through the frantic pace he had taken up, you had long since given up on being silent, you knew that everyone could hear your screaming his name throughout the halls. 

Tendrils had wrapped around your thighs, their grip so tight you could already hear Bajo’s complaints, could already feel his sharp fangs cutting into your flesh as he tried to cover up the bruises Scarabee was certainly leaving. you knew he did so on purpose, he loved sending your back to the other dons covered with the marks of his claim, loved seeing your limp away, fully satisfied. This time, you knew you wouldn’t be limping away, not when you could see the hunger clear in his eyes, when you could feel his sharp nails digging into your hips, certainly drawing blood as he desperately clung to your. Needing your just as much as you needed him. “Bonne fille, ma bonne salope, je vais absolument te ruiner. Tout le mien, continue de crier mon nom, juste comme ça. Dites à tout le monde dans le manoir à qui vous appartenez, faites-leur savoir comment papa vous baise bien.” His voice was a husky purr in your ear, the words burning to your very core. Once more, one of his shadows was at your clit, vibrating so hard and fast you might’ve flinched away if you could move, but as it was, all you could do is cling to him as he fucked you. “Cum.” It was as if he controlled your body more than you for with that one growled word, you were thrown over the edge. you clawed at his shoulders as he continued to fuck your through the orgasm, prolonging the bliss until it started bleeding into pain until finally he pulled your tight against his body and began to cum. 

you sat there in his lap, half there, half asleep, only able to give a soft questioning hum as you felt yourself being lifted up again. “Don’t you worry, little one, just close your eyes and let daddy handle everything.” His lips brushed against your brow and just like that, you fell limp in his grasp.

[beetlebitchywitch]

Any angst headcanons you’d like to share 👀 Also, are requests open (like asking about don x reader stuff) or is the ask box open specifically for questions about the dons (totally fine either way 👍)

So! Requests are currently closed for fics, I’m in grad school and I currently don’t have time to write more than a fic or two on occasion. But asks about the dons are always welcome! As for angst:

Scarabee has a lot of trouble sleeping most nights. Basically, before he was Scarabee, he was Father Lawrence, a priest in Europe with a group of nuns under his tutilege. To make a long story short, he and the nuns (us 👀) ended up becoming lovers. But then, we were accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake, which he had to watch, unable to do anything about it. Soon after that, he too was accused and burned, which is when Snubban came to him and changed him into a demon as his human body died. As such, he’s not very fond of fire, and he’s plagued with regular nightmares, so sleep isn’t a regular occurrence for him. Demons need to sleep less than humans do, but it still takes its toll.

Also! We’ve generally been operating under this idea that we as a group have been reincarnating over the years, always finding the dons again and becoming their partners before getting old and dying, and then beginning the cycle again. So basically all of them have to deal with constant loss and grief, even if they know we’re going to come back to them eventually.

Saft had a wife and kids back in Germany. He regularly had to leave for days or weeks at a time on missions, but always returned to them and was an incredibly devoted husband and father. But one day, the city they lived in England (he wasn’t about to stay in Germany during WWII) was bombed in an air raid. He was away in France on a mission, but the second he heard, he went back as fast as he could. What he discovered was his house completely destroyed, and his family nowhere to be found. He’s fairly certain they were killed in the bombing, but part of him always wondered if they escaped and if he could find them again. He searched for years, but never did find them, and this experience is why he hates war and fascists even more than he did before.

Bajo’s come a very long way, but he is not proud of the things he’s said and done while on a coke bender. He used cocaine to have a good time and escape the monotony of life, but he didn’t like the person he became when constantly looking for his next high. He’s relapsed a few times, but always recovered, and keeps his distance from the product he deals. Cia is always proud of him, but especially proud of how far he’s come.

Speaking of Bajo, he struggled with a lot of internalized homophobia. Puerto Rico, like anywhere in the 1920’s, wasn’t exactly accepting of non-straightness, and so when he and Cia realized their shared feelings, he reacted somewhat volatilely, feeling as if it was wrong and something he couldn’t allow himself to feel. It took a lot of healing, but now he and Cia are happily married and absolutely DISGUSTING with how much they leave each other. Just all over each other at any possible moment, it’s fantastic.

There’s definitely more but this is all I can think of right now!

[justsassysworld]

Five Demons And A Baby Part 4

Five Demons And A Baby Part 4

Zhuk x Fem!reader

Warnings: Nsfw, Nsft, oral sex, vaginal sex, erotic massage

Waking the next morning, you find yourself equal parts nervous and excited. Today could very easily be a huge turning point in your life. You try closing your eyes for a few more moments of peace, when they fly back open. What the hell am I going to wear? What should you wear? Panic sets in as you try to plan with no idea what to plan for.

You bolt up, rushing to the lush closet holding your clothes. Your eyes flit from piece to piece, never settling on any one thing. Just as you start to hyperventilate two very strong, very large arms wrap around your waist.

"Breathe, svezda moya," the tall Russian growls into your ear. "There is no need for such worry."

You fold your arms over his, taking comfort in his embrace. Turning, you smile up at him, really taking in his handsome face, his strong, stubbled jaw, thick brows, full lips. The way his dark hair lightens at his temples, how the green blends as it curls at his collar, it really makes you happy you sent that letter.

Not letting yourself stop to over analyze, you slowly move your arms up his defined arms to wrap around his neck, once there you apply some pressure. His smirk lets you know that he knows exactly what you're doing, and he slowly starts to bend his head, as you rise onto your tiptoes. Never in your life have you felt as delicate and petite as you do in this mans arms.

When your lips are a hairs breath from his, you both pause, seeming to seek the others approval. Looking deep into his eyes, you see a hunger and a passion that must surely match our own. Wanting, no needing, to taste his emotions, you surges through those last few centimeters.

Your lips crash into his, your longings clear in your furiousity, a fever that doesn't go unmatched. He crushes you to him as his lips begin their languid and thorough exploration. Almost immediately, you notice how different this kiss is making you feel. Where Scarabee's kiss is a hundred shot firework lighting up the night sky, this is molten magma, flowing deep and true, changing you in ways you can't possibly notice until the passion cools.

He cradles you as he starts to pull you back to the bed. Lost to the moment, you don't care about the date or the wooing, you just want this man. This man whose hands haven't strayed from your waist, but still seem to caress your very soul.

Zhuk stops moving, making you think you've reached the bed and prepare to be dragged down and ravished. That's not what happens though. He slowly pulls up, not wanting to put any more distance between you than is necessary, his forehead against yours.

"Oh, zaika moya," he groans. "You will be the death of us."

He steps away, straightening his sweater, making you realize just how firmly you had gripped it. You both struggle to catch your breath, though he does compose himself a little bit faster. Moving back towards the door, he reaches it and turns. "For this morning, wear something light and comfortable,” he says before leaving the room.

"Something light and comfortable," you mumble to yourself, inspecting your closet. Finally, you decide to just wear your favorite warm weather outfit.

You take a quick but decadent shower vowing to really enjoy the grandiose space at another time. Debating on if you should wear any makeup, and what to do with your hair, you throw on your clothes. Looking in the mirror, you finally decide to throw your hair up and to just wear a light gloss on your lips. Shoes are a much easier decision to make, since you decide to just pull on your favorite sneakers. Giving yourself a final look over, you nod, liking your final look.

No longer hesitating, you throw the door open and find a very sexy Russian waiting for you. He looks you over, dragging his gaze over your body. You feel every inch of that gaze and answer his pleased smile with one of your own. You take his offered arm.

"Ready, svezda moya?"

Biting your lip, you nod and answer, "Yes." The smile he gives you in return is truly magnificent.

He leads you down several new halls and corridors, pointing out rooms along the way, but you don't even try to remember them, far too excited to even try. After many twists and turns, he finally moves to open a door. Walking in, you stutter to a stop.

You may not know that much about cars, but you can tell just how over the top the collection before you is. There are cars in every shape, size, and color. Some look brand new, others are timeless classics, and all are absolutely pristine. Well, all but the very familiar one at the end.

"Is-is that my car?" you ask, glancing up at him. A smirk is his answer. "What the-"

He pulls you in for a quick kiss before leading you to a luxury sedan. Opening your door, he helps you into your seat. The seats are incredibly soft and so much more comfortable than you could have imagined. While he walks around and takes his place in the drivers seat, you take it all in, the sights, feels, and the smells.

The engine purrs as Zhuk fires it up. With one hand, he steers out of the garage, as the other grips one of yours. There is a comfortable silence in the cab and you watch him while the world blurs by outside. For all his apparent strength and external gruffness, you watch his face soften and relax as you get closer to where ever you're going. All while you enjoy the peace and the warmth of his hand.

He pulls to a stop in a nondescript part of town and you feel your brows pull down in confusion. Before you can question where you are, he pulls out a thin piece of what looks like silk.

"Do you trust me, zaika?"

Deciding that honesty is your best policy, you reply, "I'm not sure yet."

A sharp grin is his answer. "Good, I will always reward the truth." You reward is another toe curling kiss.

"Wow," you whisper.

"Oh, svezda moya," he chuckles against your lip. "I know trust must be built, so I am asking you to let me do this. I promise, I mean you no harm, I just want to surprise you."

Nodding slightly, you turn your body and he slips the silken material over your eyes. His hands slip down to your shoulders. Teeth nip at the sensitive skin there and you let out a shocked moan.

"How-how long until we get there?" you stutter out, hoping it won't be long.

"Not long," he chuckles.

Thankfully, he's telling the truth. In less than five minutes, you feel the car pulling to a stop.

"Wait here," he orders before you hear him climb from the car. Less than a minute later, you hear the latch release and feel a slight breeze. A hand drags across your chest, pausing over your tits before he reaches down and unbuckles you.

Taking both of your hands, Zhuk pulls you from your seat. With one hand holding yours, the other resting just above your ass, he guides you, helping you over and around unseen obstacles. Finally, he pulls you to a stop.

Pulling your body flush against his hard one, he murmurs, "Are you ready?"

Nodding, you whisper back, "Yes." One arm wrapping around your waist, the other reaching up to your blindfold.

The bright sunlight momentarily blinds you. Blinking, you wait less than patiently for your eyes to adjust. Taking a moment, when they finally focus, you turn up your face to the man standing behind you in confusion. The only thing before you is a fairly unassuming building with tall fences snaking from it.

You open your mouth, but he cuts you off, "You'll see." Pressure at your lower back has you moving up to the door. Instead of knocking, he simply opens the door and ushers you inside.

A surprised squeal catches in your throat.

The whole room is filled with people holding, feeding, swaddling, and just looking at a variety of baby animals. Some are fuzzy, some are scaly, and others are covered in down, but they all have one very important thing in common; they all are so fucking cute.

A very kind looking woman with a huge grin approaches you both, her hand outstretched to take Zhuk's. "Mr. Sloggoth? It's such a pleasure to meet you."

"Mrs. Abbernath," he returns with a nod. "The pleasure is mine. Allow me to introduce my companion." He does and then asks, "Might we start the tour?"

Hours later, you lean your head back against the car's headrest, a huge grin stretching your lips. You'd seen, and even held and fed, so many unique and amazing animals. Apparently, Zhuk is a huge supporter of animals. So huge in fact, he set up multiple foundations that are geared to help them, including the one he took you to. The whole purpose of this one being rescuing "exotic pets" from, and you quote, "Entitled asshole with more money than empathy for living things.”

There were several snakes, none a species you recognize, a hand full of young penguins, and even a baby emu and flamingo, but the ones you were really drawn to were the mammals. You saw everything from tiny, adult hedgehogs, some slightly bigger adult fennec foxes, a fairly young wolf with wolf-dog pups, and a hand full of various big cat cubs, a couple of bear cubs, and even a full grown male lion.

"Fair enough," he grunts, taking your hand and steering you out of the parking lot, in the opposite direction from where you came. You give him a suspicious look, but he just keeps his eyes on the road and tracing circles in the back of a your hand with his thumb. Hearing you open your mouth to draw in breath, he says, "No. It is a surprise," in a tone that invites no questions.

Zhuk glances your way when you snort in derision. Before he can say anything, you ask, "What kind of jackass names a male lion Nala? And don't say someone who's thumbing their nose at gender norms. Anyone who's conscientious enough to think like that isn't going to have a lion for a pet in the first place, and anyone dumb enough to buy one, is dumb enough to not at least google "Lion King" before naming them."

Pouting, you flop back in your chair, but you refuse to let go of his hand.

You try to focus on the world passing by your window, but between the excitement of the morning and the exhaustion of growing another person, you find your eyes growing heavy. You try to fight it, but the smooth ride has you dozing, a deep voice humming sees you sinking deeper.

Feeling arms wrap around you and slowly lift you from the car, you slowly wake, blinking against the light. The first thing you see is a huge, opulent room, the likes of which you've never seen in person, but had always hoped to experience when you'd saved up enough money. This is the most expensive luxury hotel in the area, and Zhuk is casually strolling through, with you in his arms, acting like he owns the place. You wiggle, trying to get him to put you down, an action that's become a bit too familiar, but he simply gives you a warm smile and keeps moving.

Instead of stopping at the reception, he breezes right on passed, seemingly headed to the bank of elevators. At the last hundred feet, he turns, making his way to what looks like a nondescript section of wall, but it's no wall. Opening a small panel, he punches in a code so long you couldn't remember the amount of numbers, let alone the actual code. Finally, there's a quiet snick and an elevator shows itself.

He carries you inside and the door slides shut, starting moving immediately. As the elevator ascends, he finally sets you down, but instead of giving you space, he backs you against the wall. His large hand cups your cheek before he leans in and places a heart meltingly sweet kiss on your lips. Never in your life have you had so much casual, meaningful affection. These men are going to do terribly amazing things for and to you. The elevator pulls to a gentle stop, but still he holds you. It's a sweet kiss, a longing kiss. A kiss to make you long for more and beg to stay. He is making you crave him, making you wonder about the rest of them.

"Oh zaika," he groans, finally pulling away. "You tempt me so, but we have an appointment that I will not let us miss."

Dragging you through the extravagant space, he doesn't give you a chance to take it in before you find yourself in a fully equipped spa wing, including a couple people waiting for you with warm smiles.

Shock has you jerking to a stop, but gentle pressure at the small of your back has you moving again. An incredibly soft robe is placed in your hands.

"Mr. Sloggoth, we have everything ready for you," the young woman informs. "Just let us know when you're ready for us.” The pair both nod before exiting the suite.

"What's going on, Zhuk?" you ask. "I know I can't do most of the spa experiences."

His gentle chuckle is a caress just as firm as those given by his hands. He takes your hand and pulls you near.

Cupping your belly, he grins. "I know svezda moya, I have taken such limitations into account. If you are agreeable, I will give you a full body message before calling on the others to give us both facials, manicures, and pedicures."

"Really?" you gasp, voice and face doing nothing to hide your excitement. "But what about you?"

"This is for you, well," he tilts his head, a knowing smirk lighting his face. "I will be getting my own pleasures."

The look in his eyes shows you exactly what his pleasure will be, though you suspect you will definitely enjoy yourself.

"That is," he adds, watching your expression. "As long as you are comfortable with that."

You bite your lip, thinking before you ask, "Will this be a 'happy ending' massage? And will I be reciprocating?"

A growl rumbles through the air and a glow lights his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and calms. "As much I would love that, this is for you. We have all night and I want you to be as relaxed as possible."

He's really willing to get me off without getting any himself? All because he's trying to woo you, to get to know you, maybe to fall in love.

"Allow me to escort you." He takes your elbow, leading you to a warm, dimly lit room, with candles spread throughout and soothing music playing in the back ground. Just being here has your heart rate slowing and your breathing calming.

"I will give you some time to get ready. If you are open to an... inclusive experience, disrobe and lay under the towel. If not, there is a bikini you can put on." Before turning to leave, Zhuk drops his lips against yours.

Leaning back against the table, you bite your lip as you watch him walk outside, or more accurately, his ass. Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus on the dilemma at hand, bikini or no bikini. You think about the others, would they be upset? No, is the immediate answer that comes to mind. They all knew this was a possibility and it seems they all have their own plans for you. So really, the only thing you truly have to decide is if you want everything he's offering right now, or try for more later. Holding up the tiny pieces of cloth, you make up your mind.

A few minutes later, Zhuk finds you laying on the massage table, on your stomach. Turning your head, you smile at him. "Hi

"Hello, zaika," he replies, coming to stand next to you, sleeves rolled up. "Are you ready?"

You nod, then ask, "Is it okay for me to laying like this?"

"Yes, you are perfect."

Your eyes follow him as he moves to grab a bottle of oil off a table. Thighs clenching, you force yourself to close your eyes, too tempted by the sight of him. Startled when you feel him pull the towel down your back, you know when he realizes you aren't wearing anything beneath it. The air grows thick with your combined arousal.

A splash hits your back, and he quickly rubs it in. Next comes both arms, then he moves the towel off your legs, leaving your ass as the only thing covered and without oil. Already you feel incredibly relaxed, sinking deeper into the cushion.

His deep voice blends into the ambiance, "Can I continue?"

"I don't know," you snark, too relaxed to know better. "Can you?"

"Careful, zaika," he growls, firm hand gripping your ass with a bruising force. "I may not be able to punish you fully for the time being, but I will keep track of such things."

His threat does far more to excite you, rather than instill fear, but still, you don't want to risk doing or saying anything that might have him deciding not to continue.

Turning your head to look at him, you practically beg, "Please, Zhuk, Please."

Smiling, he grazes one of his knuckles down your cheek. "Of course, svezda moya." He teases a quick kiss against the back of your neck, before finally removing your towel completely. Before you can truly adjust to the air caressing your skin, the oil is all ready rubbed in, and the massage can truly begin.

Zhuk is incredibly thorough, starting at your hands working his way way up to your shoulders and neck. Then he went down to your feet, kneading and working way up. Moans and gasps you've never heard escape you as he releases tensions you didn't even know you hand.

Your breathing quickens as he gets closer and closer to your ass, finger digging into your inner thighs, so close to where you desperately need him. Inching your legs apart, you try to tell him what you want without having to say a word.

Unfortunately, he doesn't take your silent plea, instead, he goes back up to your shoulders. His firm fingers find knots and kinks you never realized were there. Even as you tell yourself to focus on what you're feeling, what you're feeling has you more distracted than ever. An almost constant whine is coming from your throat as you desperately fight not to grind your clit against the table. Still, your hips start to move uncontrollably.

Chuckling, he finally starts kneading your lower back, occasionally grazing the top of your cheeks, which isn't helping at all. You clench your fists, wrestling for control, when his finger starts playing at your cleft. Legs spreading even more, you hope to draw him further, but even if it doesn't work, the comparatively cool air feels so good against your heated flesh.

"Oh god," you moan as his strong hands caress and grip your ass. His fingers dip and play, dancing over your rosette, sneaking ever closer to your increasingly desperate hole. You suck in a gasp when he ghosts over your wet pussy... and let out a disappointed scream when he immediately pulls away.

Frustration has you flipping over to glare up at him, not caring one iota that you're flashing him. Laughter is his only response. "I'm sorry, Suezda moya, but I did need you to turn over for me." But the look he's dragging down your body tells you just how sorry he is, not at all.

Still glaring, you lay back, legs splayed. You're already so incredibly horny you feel no shame. Looking right at him, your hand slides over your hip, heading straight for your mound, but just before you reach your clit, a hand grips your wrist.

Zhuk's eyes blaze as he warns, "Careful, your pleasure is mine to give. Try to steal that from me again, and I will tie you down and make you regret it." Part of you wants to test him, but you know he still has more planned for tonight, and you don't want that effort to go to waste. “Do you understand?"

Nodding, you decide to push just a little. "Yes, sir."

Growling, he pulls you into a punishing kiss. He bites and tugs at your lips, stealing your breath. Pulling back, he groans, "Volshebnitsa," against your ear.

With a glare, he takes your shoulders and pushes you back, ordering you to stay with his eyes. You bite your lip as you silently debate whether to keep your eyes open and watch him, or if you should just lay back and enjoy what you know is coming. In the end, you decide to trust and just feel.

Just as he did with your back, he starts by coating you in the lotion, only this time, instead of starting at your extremities and working inward, he moves up your arms and down your body, only avoiding the spot between your legs. In fact, your mound is the only place he truly pays no attention to.

Starting at your feet, he pushes and prods, making your toes clench and release.

As he moves up your calfs, you relish the occasional catch of calluses. Teeth catch your lower lip as you try to hold in your whimpers, not that it does much good. Firm fingers kneading your inner thighs has gasps and moans breaking free.

You so desperately want to play with your nipples or maybe stroke your clit, but you won't risk getting in trouble. Not wanting to blatantly defy him, you subtly rub your thighs together. Strong hands immediately pry them apart again.

They slip and slide up your slick skin, tips digging, nails lightly grazing. He reaches around and grips your ass before having his hands follow your hips, thumbs brushing the creases between your thighs and mound. And then he's gone.

You surge up on your elbows, making sure he sees your grumpy pout. There is no remorse in his answering smirk, only a malicious gleam that tells you he's enjoying your reaction to his teasing.

Falling back as his hand travels up your stomach, you resign yourself to having to persevere through his torture. I will not let him win, you think to yourself, deciding to hold back your reactions to keep a hold of as much control as you can. Even as he very gently massages your stomach, the rest of you clenches. Your eyes squeeze shut, you set your jaw, and tense your shoulders.

Slow, deep chuckles fill the space. "Zaika, you wish to hide your reaction from me?" he asks, obviously not expecting an answer since he adds, "Challenge accepted."

Before you can analyze what he means, his hands are on you once again upon you, but this time it's no gentle tease. He twists and pulls on your nipples, making you fight not to respond. Then, something warm and wet closes over your right nipple. Your fight is lost as you let out a strangled gasp.

His eyes glint up at you and you feel his sharp teeth nibble on your hardened nub. The other is being pinched tight.

"Oh god," you gasp, one hand weaving through his hair, the other covering his pinching one. Your reaction has you wondering what exactly is in that oil, but honestly, you're far too horny to care.

"Zhuk, please! I need you!" the voice coming from you is completely unrecognizable.

He places a gentle peck on your nipple before standing and removing his shirt. You follow him up, catching him off guard when he frees his head and finds you undoing his pants. With his help, you have him completely naked in just seconds. Kneeling in front of him, you glance up, asking with your eyes if you can touch him. He gives you a small nod, so you reach out, hands slipping up his thighs. Muscles twitch as you explore them. His fingers tangle in your hair. Your hands slide over his hips to cup his ass, which brings your face very close to his cock.

Looking up, you watch his face as you very intentionally breathe on his member. His eyes are squeezed shut and jaw is clenched, making you feel like the most powerful woman in the world. One hand plays at his hip, the other teasing between the base of his shaft and his balls.

Moving close, you treat it like an ice cream cone, alternately swirling your tongue and suckling at the head. A constant growling hum reaches your ears, with several moans and groans letting you know how he's liking it. His grip in your hair grows tighter when you start to trail your tongue up and down his shaft, following the veins.

Spitting on both of your palms, you start pumping him with both fists and playing with the tip. Your tongue dips and explores at his slit, tasting him. As a quick surprise, you take him as deep as you can, sucking hard.

A sudden roar rips through the room, and you find yourself cradled in strong arms, being rushed somewhere new. Flinging open a door, you shriek when you're suddenly flying through the air. Before your back has fully settled on the soft bed, he's there; one hand playing with a nipple, the other wrapped around a thigh, holding you down, all while his tongue starts its own exploration.

Starting at your clit, he slowly circles it, listening, feeling, learning your spots. Whimpers and whines fly from you, helping him with his studies. Once he's figured out some tricks, he moves lower, starting to thrust into you with his tongue, tasting you. While he drinks his fill, his fingers dance over your little bundle of nerves.

"Ah, Ah, Ahh!" you cry out, already so close to release.

His tongue disappears, only to be replaced by his finger while his mouth latches on to clit, sucking, sending you into orbit. The pleasure of the orgasm is so intense you try to jerk away, but he holds you tight. There is nothing you can do but lay back and experience.

Zhuk finally slows, letting the orgasm ebb. As you begin to regain control of your body, you reach down and pull him up, well, he lets you pull him up.

"Please, Zhuk,” you pant, body still craving more. "I want you."

Nodding, he positions himself over you, but still he asks, "Are you sure, svezda moya? Do you want me to wear a condom?" The concern in his voice almost makes you cry, telling how much he already cares for you.

You shake your head, "No, you can't get me any more pregnant, and if I remember right, I was told y'all can't get 'human' diseases."

He chuckles and shakes his head, before kissing you softly. "Yes, zaika."

Wrapping your arms and legs around him, you press kisses across his jaw as he lines himself up with your entrance. His lips take yours as he starts thrusting forward. Unlike so many men who start with long, deep strokes, Zhuk is more tempered. His strokes are slow and shallow, exploring with his cock what he'd explored with his fingers and tongue just minutes earlier, and it's so effective.

There are no words that can truly explain what you are feeling in this moment. It's more than just the physical, which is admittedly spectacular. It's the connection that's quickly growing between you, which ties into the feelings you've already built with Scarabee. It's the way he's already shown such care to not only you, but to the baby, and all those animals back at the rescue.

You can't say you're surprised by your new, but intense emotions you are feeling towards him, even if they have come on so fast. It may not be love right now, but you can see how easily it will be to fall for him, for all of them.  

Finally, he starts to pick up pace, still not going very deep, but consistently rubbing your g-spot. His weight shifts and there's a finger on your clit, rubbing in small circles.

"Oh god," you moan into his mouth, hips moving to match his, consistent pressure on your clit, inside you, combine with the feel of him on top of you and the way he tastes, and you cum again, muscles clamping down as you scream out in pleasure. Thrusting harder and faster, Zhuk quickly follows you over the edge, murmuring in a mix of Russian and English. Hot sperm fills you, making you shudder.

Zhuk practically collapses on top of you, rolling and pulling you on top of him. You both take a long time to relax and calm back down, sweat cooling and drying on your skin. You lie there for what feels like an eternity, probably falling asleep for at least a few minutes.

Moaning in displeasure, you clutch him, not liking him sliding out from beneath you.

"Hush, little one," he cajoles, managing to break free. "I need to get something to clean you, and I need to cancel a few reservations."

Disappointment fills you, "I'm sorry. I-"

He cuts you off with a kiss. "Do not blame yourself. I was no passive participate and I am very happy with the turn tonight took. I will call us room service and will ask you to accompany me to the shower."

You tap your finger against your lips, as if in deep thought. "I think I can accept your terms, but I do worry that I might not have the strength to make it all the way to the shower."

Laughter babbles up when he hoists you up and whisks you away, taking you to be prepped for more to come.

@janitor-boy @1-rosewiththorns @doyouhearthatsound-after-dark @dilfyjuice

[doyahearthatsound-after-dark]

Kat oh my god oh dare you destroy me

Worship

So, a few things:

1. This story involves Scarabee, the Cajun Mafia!Beetlejuice from The Conglomerate, and GodNaga!Beetlejuice, who he worships and gets his magic from

2. This thing is about 5700 words because I have no self control

Enjoy!

WARNING: VERY NSFW, mild blood, monsterfucking

    “You’re sure this is a good idea?” 

    That particular moment was likely not the best time to be asking that question, not when Bee was already leading you through an overgrown jungle, chopping at various vines and thickets with the machete clutched tightly in his hand. You’d been hiking through the trees for about half an hour in silence, eyes trained carefully on the ground for any sight of arachnids or venomous snakes as you made your way away from a well-worn trail and into the thickest portion of the jungle, where no human being had seemingly traveled in years, given the thickness of the vegetation Bee had to slice through. He clearly knew his way, given the deliberate way he traversed the mossy floor, always looking back to make sure you were following closely behind. 

    “Of course it’s a good idea,” he answered almost carelessly, as if trying to deny his own doubts about your choices. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

    “Oh, I don’t know,” you said, the sarcasm in your tone floating heavily through the air. “Maybe because I’m the first person other than you to meet your deity in person and he’s a naga four times my size? What if he decides to eat me?”

Keep reading

[beetlebitchywitch]

A BIG ANNOUNCEMENT

So! In light of our recent events with the pandemic, and the fact that I’m moving out of my parent’s house in August and moving onto grad school and independence and all that, I have decided to take fanfiction requests by commission! I know not everyone is super comfy with fanfic commissions, but I figure if fan artists can do it, why not writers, you know? Anything to get some money in my savings account in preparation for my coming independence. Obviously if you’re not comfortable with it, you don’t have to commission me. I will still be posting works of my own accord not purchased by anyone, so it’s not like you’ll only have access to my writing if you pay for it. This is only if you want a specific request.

Here’s how this will work:

If you would like to commission me, please D/M me rather than send me an ask so we can have a conversation about exactly what you want and we can discuss payment methods.

Something VERY important: I WILL NOT BE TAKING COMMISSIONS FOR BEETLEJUICE OR DEWEY FINN. I really don’t want to run the risk of you or me getting sued. I will only be using original characters, even if they are based off of existing characters, such as the dons based off Beetlejuice, since they’ve kinda taken on a life of their own. As such, here are the characters you can request: Any don from The Conglomerate, the Beetlejuice Mafia AU (Ciarog, Escarabajo, Zhuk, Scarafaggio, Scarabee), and any of @yankyo’s Beetlejuice clones (Bee, Jay, Chamie, Jazz, Lex, Cici, Wasp, Ren). An AU variation of these characters is also acceptable, such as Pirate!Zhuk, etc etc.

Since I’m not doing commissions for them, you can still send in requests for Beej and Dewey for free! Though I’ll encourage you to donate to Black Lives Matter if you’re able!

You can request for the characters x reader, a character x another character (in the case of Cia and Bajo, for example), or a nonromantic story of any kind.

I’m willing to write fluff, smut, and violence to some degree. My boundaries are flexible, so feel free to come to me with almost any request as long as you’re willing to let me tell you no if it makes me uncomfortable.

Some things, however, are off limits: pedophilic relationships, explicit non-con, and incredibly graphic violence are things I’m not comfortable writing

Whether or not I post the commissioned stories publicly will be up to the commissioner, which can be discussed in DMs.

I plan on charging 1 cent per word. So, a 1,000 word fic will cost you $10, a 2,000 word fic will cost you $20, etc etc. If you don’t have a specific word count you’d like, giving me the most you’re willing to pay for the story in question will be just fine, though I will try to be as concise as possible so I don’t bleed anyone dry.

I’m so thankful for all the support I’ve gotten for my writing and I hope to hear from some of y’all soon!