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beetlebitchywitch · 4 years ago

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Zhuk (Mafia Beej!AU The Conglomerate) x F!Reader: Homecoming

Well my dears, it has been awhile. My first semester of grad school is about to come to a close and I feel bad that I haven’t written in so long. So, I decided to post a commission I wrote a WHILE ago for @yankyo, starring everyone’s favorite Russian mafia man, Zhuk. I hope you all enjoy it!

P.S. I usually tag these fics with beetlejuice stuff since these boys are based off of Beetlejuice and share traits with him and stuff, but if people think I shouldn’t, let me know. I wouldn’t wanna clog the tags with stuff people don’t want to see, but I wanna make sure the people that do wanna read it can find it easily. If anyone has any suggestions or anything, I’m all ears!

WARNING: NSFW. Rough sex, brat taming, anal sex, dirty talk, slight degradation/humiliation, aftercare. MINORS DNI

The mirror reflected a devious picture come one warm, muggy, infuriatingly quiet night at the estate. Her gaze traveled up her reflection, starting at her feet clad in strappy black heels that she still managed to be short in despite their impressive height. Her legs looked absolutely incredible in her favorite pair of fishnet stockings, held in place by the garters connected to her lacy black panties that perfectly cupped her ass. Paired with a black leather chest harness that fully exposed her breasts and a matching collar adorned with silver chains that dripped luxuriously across her skin, she looked like every straight man with a pulse’s wet dream. She turned slowly, looking herself over carefully for any imperfections. If tonight was to go as she had planned it, she needed to be perfect, not for her husband, but for herself.

Her husband. She couldn’t help but scowl as the memory of him leaving her for a business trip entered her mind, a curt kiss on the forehead the only goodbye she received from him before he was off, chattering away in Russian on his phone as if she didn’t exist. It was the third time that month that he’d left her to rush off to Europe on some important business he refused to tell her about, and tonight was the night he was due to arrive home. The others had kept her company, of course, but they all could tell how much his supposed disregard for her had gotten under her skin, and far be it from them to tell her how to feel. They did what they could, keeping her occupied and loved with time spent drowning in liquor and laughter, but they all knew that there was nothing they could do to replace the attention of Zhuk while he was away. But tonight...well, tonight that attention was going to be all for her.

With a smirk, she turned away from the mirror, striding confidently out of her bedroom and down the empty hall. The others had retreated to their rooms for the night, knowing full well what hell would likely be unleashed upon them if they dared to interrupt her master plan. The only sound that accompanied her was the satisfying click of her stilettos on the stairs as she descended into the foyer, momentarily surprised that not even Bajo had snuck out of his room for a quick look at her all dolled up. Her thoughts were quickly dispelled at the sound of the magnificent front doors being unlocked, quickly swinging open to reveal none other than Zhuk...speaking rapidly on his cell phone in Russian.

It took everything in her not to scream at the top of her lungs as he sped past the foyer and into the kitchen after only briefly meeting her gaze, not even sparing her a second glance as he barked unhappily in his native tongue. Whoever was on the other end must’ve been getting an earful, but Y/N simply couldn’t give two shits what they were being scolded for. Here she was, standing in the middle of the room with her fucking tits out, and her husband didn’t even notice, too wrapped up in his business like he always was. She could feel the frustrated tears building in her eyes, suddenly feeling utterly ridiculous for planning all of this in the first place if he wasn’t even going to care enough to spare her a passing glance. Before she could continue spiraling into self-pity, she heard a soft gasp from her left and looked up to see Zhuk, cell phone held loosely in hand and his mouth agape at the sight of her. If anything, his delayed reaction only served to anger her more, feelings of inadequacy and loneliness and sadness swirling around in her stomach as his gaze shamelessly raked up and down her body.

“Moya zhena,” he sighed wistfully, pocketing his cell phone and taking a few steps closer to where she stood at the base of the stairs. “You are...could this all be for me?” At that, she scowled, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“It could’ve been,” she snapped, not even finding it in her to care when he flinched at her angry tone. “But you’ll probably just be too busy, right? Maybe I should book you another plane ticket back to Moscow, since you’ll just ignore me while you’re here anyway.” Zhuk paused, seemingly taking in everything she’d said and trying to determine what to do next, but the long silence made Y/N shift uncomfortably where she stood, suddenly feeling far too exposed as she used her hands to cover herself.

“...Darling, where is this coming from?” he asked slowly, though she could hear him struggling to maintain his patience with her outburst. No, no, he didn’t get to be angry, because now it was her goddamn turn to be pissed at him and she wasn’t going to let him take that from her, not for a second.

“What do you care?” she spat, reaching down to angrily undo her heels and slip out of them, tossing them carelessly to the side before covering herself up again. “Sooner or later, you’ll just be gone again, or you’ll come back and be too busy with your phone to notice your wife is in fucking lingerie, so do us both a favor and just get it over with now so I don’t have be disappointed again!” And with that, she spun on her heel and ran back up the stairs, ignoring the sound of his heavy footfall behind her as she rushed back to her room and slammed the door behind her, quickly locking it and sliding down the wood, sitting herself on the ground and trying to maintain her composure despite Zhuk quickly pounding on the door.

“Y/N, let me in!” he demanded, trying to keep his voice as gentle as he could but goddammit, he was stressed and tired and this wasn’t what he was expecting to come home to, even if it was his fault for being so busy. .

“Bite me!” she called back, not even caring how much trouble she’d likely land herself in for being so disrespectful. She was hurt, she was angry, and she didn’t give two flying fucks about him or his rules. She heard him snarl under his breath and smirked victoriously, suddenly growing more confident knowing that she could get under his skin. “Well, you could’ve, if you hadn’t been fucking blind.”

“I will break down this door,” he growled, tugging aggressively at the doorknob to no avail. “You know damn well that your anger does not excuse bad behavior. Now be a good girl and let me in.”

She was tempted, for a moment. Perhaps he’d apologize, hold her close, treat her right, the way he should’ve from the very beginning...but did she want to give in that easily? After all he put her through, didn’t he deserve to have to fight for what he wanted? Didn’t he deserve to wait as long as he made her wait? ...She couldn’t, could she? But hearing his frustrated muttering in Russian and his impatient pacing in front of her door...her decision was already made. She crawled away from the door to settle at the base of her bed, facing the door with her back against the edge of the mattress and slowly spreading her legs. Her fingers dipped below the waistband of her panties and down towards her pussy, and the hiss of pleasure she let out as she began to circle her clit got Zhuk quiet, his pacing coming to an abrupt halt.

“...What are you doing?” he asked, his voice hushed like the calm before a storm. She replied only with a soft moan. “Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she replied cheekily, her words cutting off with a soft gasp because fuck, this felt so good. She hadn’t let any of the others touch her while Zhuk was away, never finding herself quite in the mood for that kind of distraction, so it had been several days without this kind of touch and as badly as she wanted it from him, teasing him while he was helpless to stop her was simply sublime.

“Think carefully now, dragotsennyy,” he growled, once again pawing uselessly at the door once more before pushing away from it with a frustrated snarl. “You can’t hide in there forever, and if you keep this up, I swear on the motherland that you will wish you were never born.”

A shiver ran through her at the way he growled his threats at her, but the longer she got away with it, the more powerful she felt. There he was, an incredibly powerful demon that could break her in half with one hand if he wanted to, and he was at her mercy. The pleasure swirled together with the self-satisfaction to have her throwing her head back with laughter interspersed with pleasured gasps.

“I already wish I was never born, that’s not much of a threat!” she retorted teasingly, letting one finger dip down to circle her entrance before pressing inside her. She moaned loudly, putting on as much of a show for her poor husband as she could. “Fuck, it feels so good! Don’t you wish it was you inside me, muzh? Oh well, too bad.”

She quickly slipped another finger inside her, losing herself to the satisfaction of knowing that she was winning...she thought. But Zhuk was being strangely quiet. No pounding on the door, no jiggling the doorknob, not even a swear in Russian beneath his breath. It’s almost as if he’d left...but he wouldn't have. Not now, not again. She paused her ministrations, listening intently for any sign of hi-

CRASH.

In an instant, she was lifted off of the floor, her husband’s hand wrapped firmly around her throat with her toes just barely scraping the ground. She gripped uselessly at his ironclad grip, struggling against him to no avail. His hair was a wild mixture of burning crimson and vibrant magenta, though his eyes were all anger, smoldering with an ire that was just ready to ignite. Her eyes traveled behind him, where she saw the remains of her door, hanging pathetically from its hinges.

“I did tell you I would break down the door,” he said darkly. She couldn’t respond, not with his grip around her throat supporting her entire body weight- she gasped desperately for air when he dropped her to the floor, landing solidly on her knees at his feet. “Now...we’re going to try this again. Was this all for me, malen'kiy?”

Y/N stared up at him defiantly, keeping her mouth firmly shut despite knowing that there was no way he’d let her get away with it. Indeed, it only took a few seconds of petulant silence for him to tangle his fingers tightly in her hair, tugging harshly and wrenching a yelp from her throat.

“Fine,” he spat, using his free hand to quickly undo his belt and lower his zipper, freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. “I’ll put your mouth to better use, then.” He let go of her hair, but far from showing her mercy, he instead thrust his fingers into her mouth, prying it open forcefully before guiding his cock past her lips, groaning with satisfaction as he pushed himself all the way down her throat, stopping only when her nose was nestled firmly against his groin. He held her there until her eyes began to tear, but she held firm, keeping herself from gagging despite the impressive length of him pushing so far into her throat that her neck bulged. Finally, after far too long, he pulled back, giving her only a moment to rest before picking up a brutal pace, fucking her face as if it were only a toy. The feeling of his cock repeatedly plunging down her throat sent her mind spinning, and despite the defiance she so desperately clung to, she could feel the comfortable weight of submission slowly beginning to settle over her. She held still like a good girl, keeping her teeth back and mouth as wide open as she could no matter how badly her jaw ached. The longer he fucked her face like this, the more desperately she desired to be his perfect girl, her brattiness momentarily seeping out of her in favor of obedience. She missed this. Below her anger was a longing that caused her to miss him so terribly that she ached, and even if he was punishing her for her misbehavior, at least he was here. At least she was his. And there it was, the pleasant fuzziness that came with her submission, just on the edges of her awareness as he clutched desperately at her hair and took her mouth with utter brutality. She would be lucky if her throat didn’t ache come tomorrow morning.

“Kakaya khoroshaya shlyukha, berushchaya moy chlen,” he snarled, letting himself have only a few more seconds of her mouth before pulling out completely, still holding her by the hair while he frantically stroked his cock. “Mouth open, tongue out.”

She obeyed, as if she had much of a choice, her tongue lolling out of her mouth and her eyes slipping shut as she waited for, there it was, the warm feeling of his cum sticking to her skin, some landing on her exposed tongue but also clinging to her lips and even the tip of her nose. Knowing better than to swallow without permission, she held herself still, opening her eyes to watch the tail end of his orgasm before meeting his gaze obediently, allowing him to enjoy the sight of her covered in his cum. And enjoy it he did, taking several seconds to paint a mental picture of his wife marked so perfectly before letting go over her hair and moving to remove his pants. “Clean yourself up,” he commanded almost carelessly.

She obeyed immediately, swallowing what was already on her tongue before using her fingers to clean the rest from her face, swallowing it dutifully. As she came back to herself after such an intense experience, her desire for revenge mixed with her overwhelming need to submit to his control as well as oil and vinegar. She wanted him to take her until she didn’t even remember why she was angry, but she also wanted to send him packing for ruining her perfect plans, and she wasn’t sure which desire was stronger.

“On the bed,” he commanded, striding over to toss any extra decorative pillows to the floor. Her opposing desires swirled angrily in her mind, but despite the fuzziness at the edges of her vision that so often came with her willing submission, she stayed put, staring defiantly down at the ground. When Zhuk realized she had no intention of moving, he strode over to her slowly, now fully nude and his cock already beginning to reharden.

“Is this the game you would like to play tonight, moya zhena?” he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of his dominance. She shivered at his tone, but held her tongue, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her perfect obedience. “Because I have no problem with reminding you whose orders you’re meant to obey. Or have I left you alone so long that you’ve forgotten?”

Her scowl only grew at the reminder that yes, he had left her alone too long, so this is exactly what he deserved. If he wanted her, he was going to have to be a big boy and take her.

“Here are your options, dragotsennyy,” he said, almost too calmly. “You can obey me, as you are meant to, and climb willingly onto your bed. Or I could drag you up by the hair. Which will it be?”

Knowing this may be her last chance to speak, she lifted her head to smile petulantly at him, using every last ounce of brattiness left in her.

“I’ll take what’s behind Door Number 2.”

A man of his word, he fisted her hair with a snarl, showing no mercy as he dragged her up off the floor and onto her bed, paying no mind to her yelps of pain as he tossed her unceremoniously onto the mattress. He wasn’t far behind, pressing her down against the pillows and letting one hand trail tantalizingly down her body.

“You dressed up so pretty for me, dorogoy,” he crooned in her ear, giving the lobe a nip. “It’s a shame you won’t get to wear this again.”

Before she could even protest, he was on a rampage, tearing into her panties with a feral snarl and ripping them off her body with his teeth, setting the ruined garment aside to reveal her pussy, already dripping wet and ready for him. But he wasn’t done. He gripped tightly at her stockings, tearing them to shreds with inhuman strength and littering the bed with tiny scraps of fishnets. Deciding to show a sliver of mercy, he undid her harness rather than tear it off her and tossed it aside, leaving her completely bare and soaking wet for him. She grumbled under her breath knowing some of her favorite garments were ruined, but she couldn’t think about that, not when Zhuk was roughly wrenching her thighs apart and trailing his fingers between her folds, gathering her slick on the tips of his fingers with a hum.

“Aww, and to think you acted so tough,” he mused, chuckling to himself when she shivered at his touch. “Would you like to see how wet you are for me, moya zhena?”

Expecting his fingers, she balked when he reached for her ruined panties, having soaked them through from how wet she became from getting her face fucked. Zhuk balled them up and, not willing to wait for her to open her mouth, wrenched her lips open with two fingers pressing down on her tongue, quickly replacing them with her soiled panties and giving her a quick slap to her cheek for good measure, leaving behind a trail of her spit. She yelped around her panties, already tasting just how wet she’d become from the beginning of her punishment and blushing darkly at the shame of it all. Satisfied, Zhuk moved back down her body, pulling her thighs apart roughly to reveal her dripping pussy and sighing at the sight of it, aching for him to just slide inside of her. But...he had a better idea.

“I don’t think I want to fuck such a slutty pussy,” he mused to himself, though it didn’t stop him from running his thumb between her folds and chuckling when she struggled to keep herself from whining in protest. “Aww, does my little brat want me inside her? Don’t fret, malenk’iy, you’ll still have me…” He trailed off, dragging his slick-soaked fingers up to circle the puckered rim of her ass. Realizing what he meant, she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a long, low moan, arching her ass up and grinding back against his teasing touch. Still, he kept it light, just barely circling her entrance with the tips of his fingers. “...but only if you beg.”

Fuck. She growled under her breath in frustration, her panties already growing more soaked from her saliva. How did he expect her to beg with her panties in her mouth? Thinking about it for a moment, her cheeks grew red as she realized what he wanted, but...there was nothing that would keep her from having him inside her.

“Please…” she whined, her words muffled as she struggled to speak around the lace filling her mouth.

“What’s that? I can’t hear you, shlyuka.”

“Please, muzh, I want you…”

“Louder!”

“Please!” she yelled around her gag, blushing furiously at the sound of her muffled words. Still, it seemed to be enough for Zhuk, as he hummed in satisfaction to himself and quickly plunged one finger inside of her, hissing at the feeling of her tight walls clenching around him. She gasped loudly, trailing off to a reedy whine as she ground back on his finger, already desperate for more. He plunged his finger in and out of her before quickly adding another, spreading them apart to get her nice and stretched for him. A steady stream of whines and moans fell from her lips, muffled only slightly by her panties as the tips of his fingers stroked at her sensitive walls. When he thought she’d had enough, he pulled them out, cooing almost condescendingly at the way she whined in protest.

“Patience, dorogoy,” he said almost mockingly, reaching into the bedside table to pull out a bottle of lube and quickly getting himself slicked up for her. “Or is my little slut truly that desperate for me?”

She couldn’t deny it. That fuzziness on the fringe of her vision had grown, her submission fully settling over her enough that she was desperately needy for him. She would crawl on her hands and knees across the entire estate just to have his cock inside her. She settled down onto her elbows, making sure her ass was presented for him, and kept silent, not wanting to speak unless he truly asked her to. From now on, he was in control.

“That’s what I thought,” he growled, quickly lining his cock up with her entrance. “Deep breath for me now, kotenok…”

She inhaled deeply, and when he finally began to push inside of her, she released it with a desperate moan. Fuck, the stretch was perfect, his cock practically splitting her in half as he slid inside her without mercy, not stopping for a single second until he was fully hilted inside her, his hips pressed firmly up against her ass.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl,” he hissed, struggling to keep himself still. He may have had to show her her place, but he still cared enough for her wellbeing not to start rutting her without giving her a moment to adjust. He leaned down, pressing the length of his chest to her back and whispering directly in her ear as he slowly began to move his hips. “This is what happens to naughty little brats who disobey. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she moaned around her gag, grinding back against his cock to encourage him to just take her. He gave in, starting up a quick, hard rhythm that had the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust, but God, it wasn’t enough. “Please, harder!”

“Ohhhh no,” he growled, keeping his pace just shy of where she desperately needed it to be. “I don’t reward bad behavior, shlyuka. You want it that badly? Then I better hear you say you’re sorry.”

If he’d asked her to 20 minutes ago, he would’ve been met with stony silence, but now, he’d so expertly taken down her walls and sent her so deep into subspace that she couldn’t stop herself if she tried.

“I’m sorry!” she cried out, trying in vain to grind back harder against the cock that she needed so badly. “I’m sorry I was bad, I’m sorry I teased you, please, just-ah!”

There it was. Hearing those magic words, Zhuk simply snarled and buried his face into her neck, finally reaching the pace she craved. Every thrust inside her was like heaven, every nerve in her body alight with pleasure as her husband growled obscenities into her ear, taking her like an animal in heat. This, this was what she needed all goddamn week.

“There’s my good girl,” he moaned directly into her ear, tangling his fingers in her hair just to wrench her head back to expose her neck. “Are you going to cum for me?”

Desperately, she nodded, reaching down to circle her fingers around her clit. Immediately, Zhuk slapped her hand away, replacing it with his own and pulling desperate yet muffled cries from her lips. Fuck, so close, just a little more-

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Let me feel my good little slut cum around my cock.”

That was it. Her body gave in to the command, her orgasm rushing over her like a wave of heat hitting every nerve in her body, a desperate scream wrenching from her throat as she trembled in his arms. Zhuk fucked her through it, grunting with each thrust before reaching his own climax, spilling into her with a quiet groan. Out of breath, shaky, and blissed out beyond belief, Y/N collapsed onto the mattress, barely even feeling when Zhuk pulled out of her, his cum rushing hotly down her pussy and onto the mattress. Ignoring it completely, he moved up to pull her into his arms, letting her rest against his broad chest. He doted on her as much as he could, guiding her soaked panties out of her mouth and tossing them aside before pressing a soft kiss to her lips and petting her hair, just wanting her to know that he was there. Slowly, she came back to herself, her eyes sliding open to see her husband smiling softly down at her.

“Are you alright now, moya lyubov?” he asked softly. With a smile, she nodded, nuzzling into him lovingly. When he sighed almost despondently, she looked back up at him with concern, finding remorse shining in his eyes. “You were right. I’ve been neglecting you too much lately, and I promise you that I won’t be rushing off on a business trip any time soon. That didn’t give you an excuse to misbehave, but I’m sorry that I made you feel as if you had to act out to get my attention.” With a soft smile, Y/N leaned up to kiss his cheek, nuzzling against him before settling back on his chest.

“Apologize again to me in the morning,” she said, her words interrupted with a yawn. “I might’ve forgotten by then...”

And with that, she drifted off to sleep, comforted by the fact that finally, finally, her husband was home.

#beetlejuice smut #beetlejuice #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice nsft #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice/reader #zhuk #zhuk x reader #zhuk/reader #zhuk shoggoth #the conglomerate

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angelicspaceprince · 5 years ago

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Take Me To Church (Part 2)

Author: Toby

Title: Take Me To Church (Part 2)

Pairing: Zhuk/Reader, Reader/OC

Character/s: Zhuk Shoggoth

Word Count: 2, 812 words

Warnings: Smut (18+ only please), anal, choking (sorta), collaring, tentacles, tentacle shibari, double penetration for like a second, aphrodisiacs, hypnosis, sex in a church, priest kink. I'm sure there are more but I can't remember its 1:30am. Oh bad Russian translations from Google, but there are translations at the bottom of fic.

Tags: @yankyo

Prompt: It had become more of a game, a routine, for the two of you to return to the church just for a bit of fun. Zhuk, this time, has a lot more planned for you than he's let on. Part Two of Take Me To Church (Part One)

Notes: So.....this is very much written for one person who loved the original fic. Also, for myself because I just love this man and I love this kink. No judging. Maybe OOCness? I'm not sure man again. Its late.

Requests are open. Commissions (for crafts and writing) are open. Hit me up if you want to talk prices. Also, my ko-fi account is below in case you want to be so kind as to tip my work.

Buy Me A Coffee

Take Me To Church (Part Two)

Translations at bottom of fic in order of appearance

You wake up to the sensation of those warm, wet tendrils trailing up your skin as you try to snuggle back down into the strangely warm pile of blankets that was the Father’s nest. You hear his amused chuckle echo through the room. “It’s time to get up, Y/N.” His hand moves to rest on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze as he pushes you onto your back. You blink, vision blurry as the sun peaks through the cracks in the church’s walls. It’d been some time since you had more or less become the plaything of the demon that had made this rotten church his home and, if you were honest, it wasn’t a bad deal. He kept you warm and fed and completely and utterly fucked out at any chance he got and, as time went on, you slowly got to know him as a person. Not just the giant looming creature that has multiple things growing out of his back.

Speaking of, you look over to see him crouching down beside you, hand moving to brush a piece of loose hair and tucking it behind your ear with care. “Good morning, roza.” He greets, passing you over a piece of fruit, which you take readily and slowly start to eat, knowing the consequences if you refused. “I have a gift for you.” He adds as you finish off your snack, pulling out a small box. You slowly move to sit on your knees, hands sitting in your lap as you look at him, curiously staring at the plain wooden box in his hand. “Eyes closed, kotenok.” He prompts, smirking as you do as instructed.

You hear him unlock the box and feel him pick something up before his hands are suddenly at the back of your neck as he reaches over to pull something through. It’s not until you hear the lock of a padlock that you realise what it is, eyes opening as you look up at him, hands instantly moving to feel the cool leather that is now resting against your throat as he looks down at you with a heated gaze. “There, moy prekrasnyy malen'kiy pitomets, moy velikolepnyy malen'kiy kotenok. Kak krasivo ty vyglyadish' s vorotnikom na sheye, dorogoy.” You swallow, knowing that he’s praising you but not quite understanding what is being said.

“Sir?” You ask, voice quiet. He hums, eyes never leaving your face.

“Yes, malyshka?” You swallow, hesitating to ask your question, much to the priest’s amusement. “Vam interesno, yesli ya khochu igrat' v nashu igru?”

You didn’t understand Russian, but you understand his body language, the way he spoke. You understood him. You can tell by a mix of his amusement and apparent arousal what the question was, or at least the gist of it. You nod slowly, looking up at him, hoping the answer would be yes. “Please?” You throw in for good measure.

The corners of his eyes crease at the grin that graces his face. “Da. Of course, kotenok.” He leans down, pressing his nose against your hair as he breaths your scent in, almost as if committing it to memory before he pulls back, a low, predatory growl rumbling in his chest as he gives you a one-worded command. “Run.”

You pick yourself up and make a mad dash towards the door behind you, feeling and hearing tentacles crawl across the floor to wrap around your ankles only for you to tug yourself free and forward. You knew the priest could get you in a matter of seconds, but this was all a part of the game. Attempt your run to freedom as he chases you. If you reach the door, he will let you leave. If not?

Well. You were his for another day.

The church had almost become like a home for you. You had discovered little nooks and crannies you didn’t see the day you arrived. Of course, the demon knew the grounds better than you, always knowing where you were, lurking in the shadows whenever you thought he wasn’t near.

The other downside of him knowing the church better than you was the fact that he was able to put small surprises wherever you turned and you would be shocked every single time.

You rip open the door and rush down the stairs, being greeted with nothing but darkness. The ground feels warm against your feet, soft even. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes it difficult for you to piece together what you are stepping on until the lights turn on, seemingly on their own.

A nest. Of nothing but forever moving black vines that seem to pulse alongside your heartbeat. They start to curl up your legs as you yelp and slap them away, dragging yourself to the safety of your door. You can feel the priest’s amusement, hear his laughter, always right behind you even though when you look over your shoulder, he is nowhere to be seen.

You work your way through the tumbled mess behind you, pushing your body’s weight against the door in order to trap everything inside. You look around frantically. It doesn’t look like he’s there. You can hear his laboured breathing behind the door, his nails scratching at the wood right behind your head, making you jump forward, spinning to see if the door would open.

Silence.

The only thing you can hear is your own heavy breathing matched with the slick sounds of the tendrils behind the door twisting and turning against one another.

You could make it.

You turn and make your dash towards the front door. Perhaps this time you will reach it, perhaps today will be the day tha-

You are slammed against the closed door of the confessional door, the entire wooden structure shaking and groaning as you are held up against it, the Father in front of you looking down with a victory smirk plastered on his face. “Poymal tebya, malysh.” He purrs before moving to kiss you, teeth nipping at your lower lip as his tongue seeks entrance into your mouth.

You grab at his arms as his hands dig into your thighs as he wraps them around his waist, the tentacles holding you up against the door moving away and out of sight the moment it’s clear the priest has got you where he wants you. “So close, malen'kiy.” He purrs, moving to nip at your neck, just above your new collar. “But not close enough.” He growls a low ‘mine’ just as the tentacles return, weaving their way up your body, positively vibrating with excitement as they hold you up and open for him, forming intricate designs against your body whilst making sure they are able to support you without fear of you falling.

You are tempted to fight back, sass, anything to keep the game going. But, the priest is too quick, making sure he is pressed completely up against you so there is no way for you to escape. When your mouth opens, the feeling of something warm and pulsing pressing against your tongue is your only warning before his tentacle slides in, instantly moving to spill the sweet, thick almost-nectar into your mouth, giving you the option of swallowing or choking. Really, you didn’t have much of a choice, but the priest seemed to like the illusion that you did.

The now-familiar warmth washes over you, causing you to clench as your slick starts to build, eventually coating your thighs and the pants of the demon in front of you. You feel more than hear his chuckle, amused by the small whimpers that start to fall from your lips before quiet begging fills the room. You were empty. Too empty. The urge to be filled began to build, just as you feel something brush against your folds, collecting your slick as they push into your wet heat, causing a low, satisfied purr to come from the demon in front of you.

Your hips jolt up when he curls his fingers inside of you, grazing against your most sensitive of spots. It was like he knew you inside and out without even trying, something that originally scared you but in this moment? You were oh so thankful for. His low chuckle causes your stomach to drop as he pulls his hand away, leaving you achingly empty. Every plea that left your lips to be filled is met with an amused shush.

It doesn’t take long before he is pushing his length inside of you, a prolonged moan falling from your throat as thanks as he manages to stretch you out in the most delicious of ways. He rolls his hips gently, your body moving up the wooden panel of the confessional slightly as he continues to give you just enough that you’re not screaming in frustration, but not enough to fully satisfy you.

You are ready to demand him to actually fuck you when you feel something nudge at your ass. Something small and thin begins to work its way inside of you, spilling what clearly was going to be used as lube to help ease its way. You catch on quickly as the tendril inside of you begins to expand, matching the priest’s pace as it works its way further into you, stretching you out slightly. Preparing you for what was coming next.

“You could speed it up a little.” You whine quietly, wanting to be taken completely and fully, not toyed with. A heavy hand rests against your throat, enough there that you can feel the weight, a warning to behave and a reminder as to who was in charge. It squeezes gently, the leather of your new collar digging in with his fingers for barely a second before relaxing, his golden eyes never leaving your face.

“Ty khochesh' snova provesti eto so mnoy, malysh?” He warns. For a second, you can feel the back of your head tingle as his face flashes in something you were almost convinced was concern. Seconds pass before the tingle fades and his face returns to one of slight amusement. “Ili ty budesh' khoroshim kotenkom dlya svoyego muzha seychas?”

You have a hunch as to what he was asking. “I’ll be good.” You promise, voice small.

His lips press up against yours instantly, his hand never leaving your throat, keeping that comfortable, reassuring, steadying pressure as he pulls away. “Khoroshaya devushka.” Is all he purrs as the tendril leaves your ass, and the priest slides out from you. You know not to complain, holding back your small noise of annoyance when you return to that feeling of just being empty.

That is until you feel the head of the demon’s cock press up against your back entrance, slowly pushing inside of you as a smaller tendril moves to circle and play with your clit, keeping you relaxed as he bottoms out inside of you.

You felt fuller than you ever had in your entire life. You are certain that, even with only his dick inside of you, that there was a faint bulge coming from your stomach caused by him being inside of you. For a second, everything stills as he allows you to get used to the feeling of him stretching you out in a completely different way, whilst also leaving you empty. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, the tentacles holding you up pulsating as they tighten slowly as the priest grows tenser, needing to move. To fuck you. His hand never leaves your throat, but his thumb rubs at your skin soothingly whilst his other hand rests at your hip. It felt amazing, it felt right. You felt like there was little he could do to make this moment any more perfect.

And then he moves.

Each rough, powerful thrust upwards caused a small grunt to leave your throat, his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you slowly unravel, the tendril continuing to flick at your clit with every thrust. His hand stays steady against your throat, keeping your head pressed flush against the wooden panels of the confessional, not enough to cut off your airway or blood supply, but enough to make you feel centred within the fog that your mind is currently in. He purrs your name, a low timbre vibrating between the two of you, enjoy to get your eyes to flicker open to meet his.

He looks at you with so much love and adoration, if it was liquid it would drown you. The rope-like tentacles tighten slightly against your skin as his pace starts to get rougher, sloppier. It takes you a second to realise that he’s talking to you in quiet Russian, just low enough that you can hear it as he concentrates on you, your face, your pleasure, just wanting to see you come undone for him. “-blyu tebya, Ya lyublyu tebya, ya lyublyu tebya, ya lyublyu tebya. Chert, ty tak khorosho menya beresh', kotenok. Kak mne povezlo, chto u menya yest' takoy zamechatel'nyy chelovek, kak ty? Tss, vot i vse, detka. Pozvol' mne pozabotit'sya o tebe seychas. Konchi dlya menya. Konchi seychas.” The last two words come out as a growl, a command, and it doesn’t take you long to obey it.

You feel your body tense as you come with a hoarse cry, a wave of intense heat ripping through you, your hands scrambling for purchase to help push yourself up against him as you raise your hips away from the wall behind you, your pussy spasming over nothing, clenching around nothing. The one orgasm almost feels like it’s too much, your body twitching from the intensity of it, your body slowly beginning to simmer down to a comfortable warmth as you settle into your afterglow.

The priest doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm as he desperately chases his. His grunts grow louder, his face moving to bury itself against your neck, teeth baring down against your skin, yet another marker to declare you as his. You feel him twitch inside of you, and then he’s spilling inside of you with a low, rumbling moan. You clench down around him, milking him for everything he’s got before, finally, your body gives out, exhausted.

Coming up from hypnosis whilst awake was always an experience. It felt like you were swimming up out of a vast pool of water, but only the part where you are just about to breach through the water to take another breath of air before diving back down. Eventually, the water breaks and you are more aware of your surroundings, faint praises falling from Zhuk’s mouth as he moves to hold you against him, tentacles fading away from existence, his cock slowly beginning to pull out from you as his cum drips loudly onto the stone floor below you. “-took me so well, looked so beautiful, too good for me, beautiful girl, moy ideal'nyy malen'kiy angel.”

Your arms move to wrap around his neck, moving your face to kiss him on the lips fully with a smile on your face as you try to finish catching your breath. “We should go home before we get caught again.” You whisper, listening out for any movement outside. It had become more of a treat for the two of you, coming back to the church and continuing to play out your new favourite game. It never grew boring, if anything, the two of you found new ways to keep the game fresh. “Thank you.”

You can feel Zhuk’s warm smile against your lips, eyes closed as he holds you close for a moment longer before wrapping you back up in his coat, snapping his fingers so he is dressed so he can bring you back out to the car. “Baths?” Is all he says, his contentment rolling off in waves as he brings you even closer.

You nod. “Love you, moy muzh.” You say with a yawn, leaning against his chest as you watch the world go by from your car window, awaiting Zhuk’s quite reply.

“Ya tozhe lyublyu tebya, moya zhena.”

Translations, in order of appearance:

- my perfect little pet, my gorgeous little kitten. How beautiful you look with a collar around your neck, dear one.

Are you wondering if I want to play our game?

Caught you, little one.

Do you wish to run that by me again, little one?

Or will you be a good kitten for your husband now?

Good girl.

I love you, I love you, I love you. Fuck, you take me so well, kitten. How lucky am I to have someone as wonderful as you? Shh, that's it babygirl. Let me take care of you now. Cum for me. Cum now.

- my perfect little angel

I love you too, my wife.

#beetlejuice/reader #beetlejuice x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice fanfic #ama writes #toby writes #zhuk #zhuk shoggoth #zhuk/reader #zhuk x reader #zhuk shoggoth/reader #zhuk shoggoth x reader #the conglomerate #the conglomerate fanfic #mafia au

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yankyo · 5 years ago

Text

Kto yest’kto

Warning: you get fucked by the Russian clones

You knew why you suddenly had this array of bodyguards, despite your insistence that you didn’t need them. Zhuk was a worrywart and after the last attempt on your life by one of his enemies, your protests had gone largely ignored as he summoned a minute army of look-alikes to protect you when he had to go on his business trips. If it weren’t for the still healing scar on your side from a stray bullet, you might’ve fought harder, but you also couldn’t deny that having them there made you feel less lonely when Zhuk had to be gone for an extended period of time. And their striking resemblance to the man you called Muzh made it all the better. Each one was different, and while they looked like Zhuk, they had their own distinct personalities that you were rapidly beginning to find endearing.

That day, you were busy in the kitchen, trying to make enough food for your eight companions with a chatty helper at your side. He had introduced himself as Pchelka and once you learned that his name translated to bee, you couldn’t agree more. He flitted from task to task with glee, talking all the while, his voice a soft, pleasant hum as he made sure everything was prepped and ready to be passed on to you. He was as sweet as honey, and when you spoke up to tell him that, he flushed a gentle pink every single time. You took to dropping compliments without warning just to see him flush and vibrate happily - truly he could not get more adorable.

“Taste!” He held out a spoonful of icing, you inspected it for a moment before you leaned in and ran your tongue through the confection, letting out a soft, pleased hum.

“Very good! I think we only had a few more minutes til the cupcakes come out of the oven.” At the sound of ‘cupcakes’ another head poked its way into the kitchen, spiky hair flashing happily at the prospect of sweets.

“Almost done?” Oh. Oh dear, what was this clone’s name again?

“We have to let the cupcakes cool before we put the icing on, Soyka.” You guessed the name and your heart sank as the clone’s smile fell from his face.

“Khame.” He corrected, a flash of purple shooting through his hair. Shit. The guilt that rocketed through you had you turning on your heel to approach him, apologizing profusely.

“Khame, right! I’m sorry!” In hindsight, only Khame had a collar around his neck and his hair was a lot spikier than Soyka’s. “Come here,” You held your arms open for him, and though his ears were drooping sadly, he approached you and leaned in to rest his head on your shoulder as you hugged him. “I’m really sorry, I’m still learning everyone’s name.” It wasn’t an excuse and didn’t make you feel any less guilty. “Why don’t you stay here with us, I’ll let you try the first cupcake!” Your bribe was taken with exuberance, green and pink returning to his hair. Better, much better. But by the counter, Pchelka was looking at Khame with thinly veiled envy as the clone nuzzled up against you, his purr strong enough to shake both of you. Oh goodness, you give one clone attention for just a moment and the others got so sulky, it would be more annoying if they weren’t so gosh darned cute - and if you didn’t realize just how touch starved each clone must be. “Come on in, Pchela,” you crooned and he wasted absolutely no time in closing the distance and joining his fellow clone in the hug. You might’ve stood there with the purring clones forever, but before long, the oven dinged and Khame was practically pressed against it, eager for his treat.

While you pulled back to grab the oven mitts, Pchelka was at the oven to pull out the tray of cupcake with his bare hands, seemingly unaware of the way his flesh began to boil in response, Your shriek, however, seemed to startle him enough to drop the tray on the counter. You rushed forwards to check on his hands, wincing at the sight of the clearly burned flesh. “Pchelka!” You scolded, and though the clone was much taller than you were, he shrank back at your tone. “Khame, I’m going to take him down to Ren, watch over the cupcakes for me. You can only have one.” He gave an obedient nod and salute, which you rewarded with a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, make sure the others don’t eat them before dinner, ok?” And with that, you left the pink haired clone to his duty while you all but dragged a droopy Pchelka behind you. “I know you can’t feel it, but you can’t just grab stuff from the oven like that!” You lectured as you walked, the curly haired clone didn’t respond, but when you turned your head to look back at him, he gave a small nod, clearly just upset with himself. Your heart clenched at the sight, but you didn’t back down just yet. Your biggest rule was for them not to hurt themselves unnecessarily. It was bad enough that they were more than ok with the idea of getting hurt to protect you, it was bad enough that each clone held scars just like their boss, you weren’t just going to sit back and watch them hurt themselves any more.

Ren had set up shop in the typically unused med bay, being one of the only clones able to tell what everything did. He was one of the easiest clones to tell simply because he looked exactly like your Zhuk, the only difference was that his expression was softer and more relaxed than your stern faced lover. Though as you told him what Pchelka had done, his scowl was identical to Zhuk’s, so much so that even the much taller clone at your side winced at the sight of him.

“Durak, pytayas’ proizvesti na nikh vpechatleniye snova?” Your lessons in Russian were slow going, but you knew a scolding when you heard one.

"Mne zhal'. YA prosto khotel proizvesti na nikh vpechatleniye, ya ne dumal." His head hung low, his ears drooping even lower as Ren tsked softly.

“I’ve got this idiot, go. Finish what you were doing.” His tone held no room for argument and you really did need to make sure Khame was following instructions and not inhaling all of the cupcakes. And while you were cooking a hearty stew, you didn’t want to leave it cooking without supervision for too long.

“I’ll see you both at dinner?” They both gave a nod, and since Pchelka looked just too pitiful sitting there, you couldn’t help but step in to give him a kiss on the cheek before turning and doing the same to Ren before you left the clones, not seeing them both slowly turn pink.

The hallway was almost silent, save for the sound of piano coming from the smoke room. You wracked your brain for the name, not wanting to get it wrong this time. Dzhaz? Right? There was only one clone with that amount of musical talent after all, that you had learned after hearing the beautiful melodies echoing off of previously silent walls. Piano, trumpet, harp, truly, any instrument that fell into his hands he seemed to be able to play with relative ease. You knew you should hurry to the kitchen, but instead you peeked your head into the smoke room to see the clone sitting at the piano, his fingers almost flying over the keys as he played an intricate melody.

“tebe chto-to nuzhno, pevchaya ptitsa?" He didn’t even look up, didn’t pause in his playing. You hoped you were pronouncing this right with all of your heart,

“Hey, Dzhaz, I don’t need anything, I just heard the music and got curious.” He finally looked back at you, a soft smile on his face as he gestured for you to come forwards and sit on the bench with him.

“Where is your guard?” He asked, glancing behind you as if searching for Pchelka. It wasn’t an odd reaction, ever since they had been called out, Pchelka had been a constant presence at your side, even crawling into bed besides you at night to keep you company until you fell asleep.

“on s Ren, pridurok poranilsya, pomogaya im ispech'.” The voice from behind you made you jolt, but it was just another clone, their name escaped you. They were taller, but it clearly wasn’t Khame. Soyka? Zekon? Cici? Almost as if they could sense your brain going haywire, they leaned forwards in a little half bow, extending their hand out to you to take. “Cici,” They introduced themself, a small grin curling at your lips as your cheeks burned with color. “Pchela slishkom sil'no tebya monopoliziruyet, ne tak li, Dzhaz? My by uzhe sozhgli nashi imena v vashem mozgu, yesli by oni ne byli dlya vashey storozhevoy sobaki." Though you couldn’t understand exactly what they were saying, something about their sultry purr made your blush all the darker.

“Vy dumayete, yesli by my zastavili ikh krichat' nashi imena dostatochno raz, oni by pomnili?" They had you just about cornered, Dzhaz’s hand falling from the piano to wrap around your waist and pull you in ever closer to his body, Cici leaning over the both of you, his arms resting against the piano to fully cage you in. “Are you scared, little bird?” Dzhaz’s melodious voice in your ear came with a rush of heat, oh... this was new. Sure, you would give chaste kisses here and there and you slept the past few nights cuddling Pchelka, but this was something entirely different. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that they would be attracted to you in that sense. But in that moment, all you could think about was how long it had been since Zhuk had touched you, how good they both smelled, how it would feel if they held you in their arms... Dzhaz leaned in closer, his lips just barely brushing your cheek. “malen'kaya ptichka, takaya myagkaya i teplaya. my by pogubili tebya." He murmured, his tone making you shiver.

“I really should be going, I left Khame alone in the kitchen.” You whispered, unable to deny the tremor going through you, or the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. For a moment, neither of them moved and your nerves shot straight up, but they both smoothly leaned away with matching smiles.

“You really should check on him before he eats all of the food by himself.” Cici gave your head a soft kiss and Dzhaz settled back at the piano to continue the melody he was playing before. “We’ll see you at dinner time, dragotsennyy.” Though your legs trembled, you nodded and returned their smile before you fled the room, trying to quiet your still pounding heart. Calm, calm. They were certainly just playing with you, Zhuk had warned you that some of the clones were more mischievous than others, after all. They were just playing a prank on the boss’s lover, nothing more. But your blush wasn’t diminishing in the slightest and you couldn’t get the mental image on them bending you over the piano and taking you right then and there out of your head. Thankfully, the rest of the trip back to the kitchen went without fanfare, though as you neared the kitchen, you could hear two arguing voices, one you recognized as Khame.

“I just want a taste!” Someone wailed,

“NO! I was told to guard the food until Boss’s mladentsy came back!” Khame yelled back, a growl in his voice that made your hair stand straight up.

“Just what is going on here?” You burst into the kitchen to find Khame brandishing a knife at... process of elimination told you Soyka. You had seen these two side by side more than once, usually getting along as thick as thieves. Khame’s face brightened at the sight of you,

“He’s trying to sneak a taste while you’re gone!” He was quick to throw his fellow clone under the bus, throwing out an arm to point at him.

“He was eating cupcakes!” Soyka yelled back, a scowl on his usually cheeful face. The clones hissed at one another, seemingly a moment away from a full force battle.

“Cupcakes? You were supposed to only eat *one*!” You turned to Khame first, who shrunk under your stare.

“.....They were good!” Came his quiet protest, a small pout on his face. You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest, just staring down these gigantic babies.

“Soyka, he was allowed a single cupcake, so you can have one too. The rest is for after dinner tonight.” The taller clone’s face lit up happily and he gave a little wriggle that made it very hard to keep your stern expression. “But! You have to help me ice the rest, both of you.” You might as well told them you were going gold mining because they both responded with the same amount of excitement. They took some convincing to get them to wash their hands, but once they were clean, you settled at the table with the cupcakes laid out before you and a big bowl of icing that all three of you pulled from. After he inhaled his singular cupcake, you found Soyka to be a hard worker, icing the cupcakes with quick, fluid motions that you couldn’t copy no matter how hard you tried. Khame, on the other hand, struggled between accidentally tearing the cupcakes with his strength and the desire to just eat the icing, but before long, they were all done and put aside for dinner tonight. You half expected them to leave when the job was done, but they hung around instead, watching you flit across the kitchen as you checked in on the stew. As you stirred the large pot, a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind and Soyka rested his head on your shoulder, a soft purr emanating from his large form.

“It smells good.” He mumbled, though as he nuzzled against your hair and inhaled, you began to wonder if he wasn’t actually talking about the stew. Khame whined from the sidelines, stepping in to attach himself to you as well and once again, you found yourself trapped between two clones. “Pchelka’s been hogging you all to himself.” Soyka whined, “We wanna be able to hold you at night too!”

"on govorit, chto my slishkom mnogo, no my tebe nravimsya, verno?" Khame’s rumbling purr mixed with the way he was nuzzling against you was making you tremble again. “on dazhe ne zastavlyal tebya chuvstvovat' sebya khorosho! boss ostavil vas vsekh nayedine s tem, chtoby nikto ne trogal vas!" Sharp teeth gently trailed across your shoulder, up to your neck and you trembled at the sensation.

"my byli by tak khoroshi my budem zabotit'sya o tebe vsyu noch' naprolet, chtoby ty ni o chem ne mechtal." You decided you didn’t want to know what it was they were saying, because you knew if you did, you would already be putty in their hands - more so than you were as it was.

“boss byl zhadnym, derzhal vas vsekh pri sebe."

"my umeyem delit'sya Ne tak, kak drugiye, my byli by tak khoroshi dlya vas." You should really take control of this situation. The joke was clearly being taken too far at this point and... and... Soyka fell to his knees in front of you, Khame taking his place behind you.

“Just a taste? A little taste? We promise we’ll be good.” Soyka shuffled in closer, his hands hovering over your thighs as if asking for permission, behind you, Khame nibbled his way down your neck, his arms wrapped around your midsection, pulling you against a surprisingly firm body. Oh. Oh this wasn’t a joke. Your breath was caught in your throat, the implications of the situation racing through your brain. This wasn’t cheating? Was it? You shared Zhuk with four other dons, after all, your status as poly never posed a problem before and they were a part of him, right? And fuck you wanted to. Soyka’s tongue was almost lolling out of his mouth and Khame was shifting his hips back and forth, clearly wanting to grind against you but holding back until he got an ok. You wanted to. Just a little. It had been so long since you had been touched, days before your last attack and every time Zhuk had seen the wound at your side, he had pulled back with a guilty expression, even almost fully healed and scarring the sight of it made him wince. Weeks upon weeks of forced abstinence and trying to ignore the dreams of Zhuk hovering above you, his lips cold on your heated skin as he kissed his way down between your thighs and...

“Yes.” You couldn’t resist and with that one word, both clones were on you. Khame sank razor sharp teeth into your skin and Soyka scrambled to pull down your pants, his nails scratching your thighs in his excitement. Before you could try and get any sort of handle on the situation, he buried his face between your thighs, sharp teeth nibbling at previously clear skin and his tight grip keeping you from trying to pull away as his cold tongue began to lap at you through your underwear. Behind you, Khame wasted no time in pulling up your shirt, his hands slowly making their way up your body even as he tasted your skin all the while both of them purred as if gifted with their favorite treat. You reached out a hand to run your fingers through Soyka’s hair, cooing your appreciation as his tongue began to worm its way past your underwear to taste you directly, his pupils blown out with excitement. After a moment, he pulled back to pull your underwear down as well, raising one of your thighs to set it on his shoulder before he was back on you again, his tongue writhing against you in ways that had you squirming in Khame’s arms. In fact, if it weren’t for the clone behind you, you might’ve fallen to the ground already, but Khame’s grip didnt falter in the slightest, easily holding you up with just one hand as the other trailed sharp nails across the curve of your hip, along your ribs and up to your chest to toy with your nipples. A warbling cry escaped you despite your best efforts to keep quiet and you could just feel both of them smirk against your skin.

"Chto tut proiskhodit?" You couldn’t have pulled free from their arms if you tried, and as shaky as your legs felt in that moment, even if you did you would have fallen into a puddle at their feet. Pchelka peered around Khame, his expression blank as he regarded you, but as you whined his eyes began to smolder and he reached out a hand to cup your cheek. “YA dumal, my dogovorilis' podozhdat', poka Boss vernetsya domoy?" His tone was scolding, but not so much that either of the clones even pretended to stop toying with you. “I’m sorry, dragotsennyy, they’re a bit impatient.” He leaned in to kiss you softly, smiling as you moaned against his lips. “We planned on waiting for Boss to come home to taste you, but I’m sure the wait was painful for you as well.” There was a playfulness to his tone that made you blush, but he was joining Khame in kissing your neck, his hand trailing down your body to rub your arousal even as Soyka licked you. “It’s been hard holding back myself, holding you against me like I have every night.” They pulled back just a fraction to pull off the rest of your clothing, leaving you bare in the middle of the kitchen. You couldn’t even try and cover yourself before they were on you again, Soyka took both of your thighs to place over his shoulders, Pchelka was kissing his way up your midsection and Khame pulled your head to the side to kiss you, his tongue worming its way into your mouth, tasting of the icing you just made. “We should call the others, you know there will be a fuss if they find out we had the first taste.”

“They smell of Jazz and Cici, I bet those two tried to get a head start already.” One of your hands were pulled behind you to feel Khame’s hard on through his pants.

“My dolzhny pozvolit’ Oca a takzhe Zakon znat’.” You wanted to whine when Soyka pulled away, but thankfully just as quickly as he pulled back, he was on you once again.

"Oca dazhe pokazhet svoye litso? Vy znayete, kak zastenchivyy bol'shoy paren'." While he seemed to agree with Khame, Pchelka pulled back to let out a long, piercing whistle that vibrated through the manor. Silence fell for a few tense moments, the clones all stilling their movements to listen in before a series of poofs outside the door made them all give a savage grin.

"ty nachal bez nas?"

"o, oni tak khorosho "

"pakhnut oni na vkus tak zhe khorosho?" The series of voices descended on you, sharp grins and glowing amber eyes looking you up and down with hunger.

“To think we held back, we could’ve had you spread over the piano.” Slender fingers tilted up your chin.

“Cici?” He frowned, those fingers sliding down to your neck.

“They’re having some trouble remembering our names.” Dzhaz commented, Khame nodded behind you, his grin growing.

“We really should make sure they know our names, make sure they never forget it.” You were being carried back to the table now, too many hands to count maneuvering you so that you were bent over the table. Eight clones stood around you, towering over you even if you weren’t bent as you were.

"dragotsennaya veshch'. my mogli by razorvat' ikh na chasti, dazhe ne pytayas'" a feminine voice spoke from in front of you, long elegant fingers tilting up your chin to regard you with glittering eyes. “Who am I?” They asked. Cici or Lex. You had a fifty fifty shot here, but as you mulled over the option, another clone raked their claws down your back, soft enough not to draw blood, but firm enough that it made you cry out. “Lex!” The clone before you smiled and cooed at you sweetly, running gentle fingers through your hair. “Very good!” As you were being held, you couldn’t see who it was that was stroking your arousal from behind, but you moaned your appreciation anyways - even if it ended far too quickly as another clone took Lex’s place.

“Who am I?” This one was easy, dog collar.

“Khame!” He smiled as well, and a cold tongue lapped at your entrance now, unyielding hands spreading your legs so they could push their tongue into you so deep you cried out. Another clone took Khame’s place, tall, curly hair, intimidating. Not Pchelka. You wracked your brain for the name and with your silence, the clone eating you out pulled back. The clone before you unbuttoned his pants and reached in to pull out a truly intimidating cock, bigger than any you had ever seen in your life. He tapped the tip of his cock against your lips, his intention clear, but it took you a moment to open your trembling lips.

“Oca.” He rumbled above you as his cock pressed past your lips and deeper into your mouth, your jaw already beginning to ache at the sheer size of him. He took his time, slow, careful thrusts that didn’t press in too deep for you to handle, his touch gentle as he pet your hair. You half expected him to continue using your mouth until he came, but before long he was pulling back, giving your head one more pat. “Ok?” You nodded and he gave you a gentle smile.

“Oca.” His smile grew, his eyes twinkling. He stepped aside and let another clone take his place. This time was another easy one, Pchelka, and as you guessed correctly, once again you were treated with a tongue at your entrance, quickly followed by fingers stretching you out for them. The tongue was longer, thinner, but it rubbed against your walls so exquisitely you could have cried. Another clone, another correct guess of Soyka and finally a cock pressed up against you from behind. A hand ran up your back to lace in your hair and pull your head back with an unforgiving grip.

“Who am I?” The melodious voice gave it away, but as the clone slammed into you all the way to the base, you couldn’t get the word out. He pulled out slowly, letting you feel each inch of his cock leaving you again until just the tip of his cock was inside of you. “Who am I” He repeated the question, his voice low and dangerous.

“Dzhaz!” You cried out this time and he rewarded you by slamming into you once more, setting a fast, hard pace that had you seeing stars. Cold fingers cupped your jaw, the touch soft and tender.

“Open your eyes, dragotsennyy.” His voice was tender, so sweet despite his striking resemblance to your usually stony faced husband.

“Ren?” You were rewarded with a kiss now and you clung to his gentleness as Dzhaz took you so roughly. Ren crooned, petting your hair and seemingly content to just stand there, but you took him by surprise by pawing at his pants, easily unbuttoning them to pull out his cock. Your mouth was watering as you pulled him in by his hips, easily swallowing his cock to the base and reveling in his surprised groan. Stuck between the clones, you closed your eyes and just focused on the sensations, not even blinking as your hands were pulled from Ren and instead brought to already leaking cocks.

“I’d complain if you weren’t such a pretty sight.” Process of elimination told you it was Cici still waiting to be named, but they didn’t seem to be in even the slightest bit of a hurry. Instead, they smiled at you and stroked their hand over your back. “So pretty. Are you about to cum for us? Cum all over Dzhaz’s cock?” Your answering moan was muffled by the cock in your mouth, but he nodded all the same, “Come on Dzhaz. We want to see them cum already,” You could feel the clone’s excitement in the air, Dzhaz grabbed onto your waist to hold you in place for him to really begin to thrust into you, his hand reaching around you to rub you in time with his thrusts, not relenting even as you began to squirm and cry out with your approaching orgasm. When you were finally thrown off the edge, you pulled back from Ren to cry out loud, especially as Dhzaz continued to take you without mercy, pushing you to the point of overstimulation until he finally stopped, his grip so tight on your hips that you knew there would be bruises left. You let out a warbling cry as he came inside of you, holding you still until he stopped twitching inside of you. Slowly, he pulled out of you and let you fall limp onto the table. You were caressed on all sides, hands stroking your back, your thighs, your head, your cheeks, all crooning at you in a mixture of Russian and English. Hazy eyes focused on Pchelka, who was brushing his fingers through your hair sweetly.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice so soft and gentle you melted. You gave a soft nod and a devious smile spread across his face. “Good, because we aren’t done yet.”

#Beetlejuice #beetlejuice smut #beetlejuice x reader #mafia au #zhuk #zhuk’s clones

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realmonsterboyhours · 5 years ago

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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.

#the conglomerate #hax hcs #zhuk x reader #zhuk #scarafaggio x reader #scarabee x reader #scarafaggio #scarabee #Gio #gio x reader #escarabajo #bajo #bajo x reader #secarabajo x reader #ciaróg #cia x reader #cia

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justsassysworld · 5 years ago

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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

#beetlejuice mafia au #the conglomerate #the conglomerate x reader #five demons #sassy writes #zhuk #scarafaggio #scarabee #escarabajo #ciarog

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turtlepated · 5 years ago

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The Ghost and the She-wolf

Inspired by the Mafia!Beej personas of the wonderful @monsterlovinghours, please enjoy this little something about Zhuk.

Zhuk and the Mafia!Beejs belongs to @monsterlovinghours, she just very sportingly let me play pirates with him.

It’s a pirate’s life for me, yo-ho.

---

Part 1 –

You were the youngest captain of the Royal Navy, no meager achievement. On top of that, you were the first female graduate of the academy, earning your title with commendations and honors that you had worked hard and tirelessly to secure. In light of this you’d been placed in command of a newly built ship: the Invictus, a sleek, three-masted frigate designed to marry speed and power, armed with fourteen 24-pounder guns and a pair of long nine ranged cannons astern. Your primary mission was to protect the shipping lanes and wealthy port towns against pirates and to capture as many of the seagoing criminals as possible. You set your sights on the most feared one of all: the one they called призрак, prizrak, “the ghost”. Braver souls referred to him in reverent whispers as Zhuk, but the name was of no consequence to you. His ship, the Perperuna, had been wreaking havoc with merchant trading routes all over the Pacific and you would see to it that he was brought to justice.

Thus began a long and frustrating series of engagements in which you came close, so very close to victory only for Zhuk to escape at the last moment. The Perperuna was smaller than you’d expected, and expertly manned by her captain. Zhuk, you were loathe to admit, was a shrewd and perceptive adversary. More than once he outmaneuvered the Invictus, using his clipper’s smaller size and greater agility to his advantage. The bastard seemed almost able to smell your best laid traps and evade or rout them. The trick was to keep up with him long enough for the Invictus’s artillery to deal sufficient damage to disable the Perperuna and allow you to get close enough to board and take him on face-to-face. While also managing to withstand the onslaught of return fire from Zhuk’s own armament.

The Invictus’s long nines were employed often when Zhuk managed to outdistance you. The twin guns came with a longer range and improved accuracy, but thus far neither of you had been unable to deliver a decisive blow. As your game of cat and mouse dragged on and on, you had to consider that Zhuk might well be playing with you. Just the thought made your blood boil. You resolved then and there that the next time you met would be the last, one way or another.

Rumor was that the Perperuna had been spotted south around the Strait of Malacca, so you set a course. Sure enough the Russian pirate turned up in Singapore and you launched a hot pursuit once again, determined to catch him or die trying. As ever the Invictus, fleet as she was, could not quite keep up with Zhuk so you took a gamble, loading the long nines with chain-shot before the Perperuna was too far out of range. You hoped that the higher accuracy of the long nine guns would balance out the inherent instability of the chain-shot, but it wasn’t quite in keeping with accepted battle tactics. You were desperate to end this chase, so you ordered the crew to fire. In the aftermath of the deafening volley the deck of the Invictus fell silent as everyone aboard watched the shot tumble through the air in a merciless arc towards the Perperuna. Even from your place at the helm near the stern, you could hear the ripping of sails and the splintering of wood as the chain-shot did its job, tearing through rigging and snapping lines, killing the clipper’s forward momentum. A cheer went up from the crew as the Perperuna began to visibly lose speed. Unable to keep the triumphant smile off your face you called for the crewmen to arm themselves and prepare to board as the Invictus closed in.

But there was no way to prepare for what came next. It began as an almost imperceptible shudder that caused the deck to tremble underfoot, as though the keel were dragging along a sandbar or reef. It grew quiet again on deck as your crew paused in their tasks, exchanging bewildered expressions. Seawater gushed over the railing by the bucketful as a massive, monstrous head broke the surface of the water with a terrifying cry like rending metal. Vaguely reptilian, it stretched up and up on a long neck as thick in diameter as two men, covered in glittering scales the color of slate, towering over the deck amidships. One sailor screamed in horror, snapping the other men out of their stupor and they scrambled to aim their weapons at the monster and opened fire, too frightened to even wait for your signal. Even you could barely register what you were seeing; a real live sea serpent, straight out of the myths and legends. The barrage of gunfire did not phase the serpent, which lunged out with liquid speed and snatched a man up in its jaws with a chilling, wet crunch before it arced clear over the deck like a breaching whale, coiling its long sinewy body all the way around the Invictus before surfacing again back on the starboard side.

You drew your own pistol, already understanding what was about to happen unless by some miracle the monster was killed before it was too late. You screamed for the men to take up their arms and fire on it again even as the ship groaned under your feet. The sea serpent remained unaffected by your best efforts, slowly, maliciously constricting its gigantic coils until the air was filled with the sound of breaking wood and screaming men. The Invictus, your beloved “unbeatable” ship, held out as long as she could before imploding in the monster’s grip, sending you flying against the rail as others fell overboard or into the jagged openings where deck boards had ripped free under the pressure. The main-mast was snapped in two with a crack like thunder, slamming onto the deck of the mortally wounded vessel as those men still on their feet were forced to throw themselves out of the way.

Water was gushing into the bowels of the ship, you could already hear it. You grit your teeth, biting back a furious howl as your heart hammered in your throat. You were all doomed, there was no getting around it. Those who managed to survive the sinking would doubtless be devoured by the monster. But you would not go down without a fight. You still had time before water reached the powder magazine, so you ran there as quick as you were able. Through the thick wooden door were crates and barrels of potent black gunpowder, which you opened and threw about in handfuls, carrying a small cask with you as you backed out of the room, leaving a trail. Your one-shot pistol, useless now, you used to light the trail before racing back up to the deck. You hoped that the blast killed the beast or at least killed you; better a quick death than the agony of drowning. Though if you at least hurt the damned thing you would die satisfied.

When the powder magazine went up you were propelled into the air by the force of the explosion and time slowed to a crawl. You could see great gouts of flame roaring up from the depths of your ship, the frozen, terrified faces of your crew, the gaping red maw of the monster as fire engulfed it. You hit the water and the breath was knocked from your lungs. Stunned, you began to sink and had no energy or strength to move your arms and legs to save yourself. Without air, your vision was already darkening around the edges. Just before you lost consciousness, you could have sworn you saw a hulking man-shaped figure splash into the water above you and swimming hard toward you. Your eyes lingered on what looked like an outstretched hand before blackness swallowed you.

----

No ETA yet on Part two, but Captain Zhuk has tapped on some primal, seafaring instinct deep in my brain so there will be more.

[UPDATE!: here’s Part 2 !]

Hope you enjoyed!

#beetlejuice #mafia!beej #zhuk #pirate!zhuk #beetlejuice the musical #zhuk x reader

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beckzorz · 5 years ago

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The Perfect Date

Prompt: [image: Sebastian Stan, captioned with “She was just so stunning.”] + “A Bucky POV prompt: Bucky telling everyone at the compound about the most perfect date he’s ever had (with you, of course).” Pairing: Bucky Barnes/f!Reader. | 1.2k A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! Thank you so much @sallycanwait68 for such an adorable prompt! Sad news: I definitely did NOT write this in Bucky’s POV XD Hope you like it anyway!!! Thanks also to @kentuckybarnes who always inspires xoxo And a huge thanks to @the-ss-horniest-book-club for hosting this Week of Love! Love to all!

“That does sound pretty sweet,” Bucky says nonchalantly. He take a final slurp of his iced coffee.

Sam smirks. “Yes she sure was.”

“Fireworks, flowers, lingerie, a gunfight… How are you going to top that, Bucky?” Natasha asks. She drapes herself on the arm of Sam’s chair and raises her eyebrows.

“Well,” Bucky says, “easily.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you start unloading your tray of clean glasses at the bar. The worst thing about your job on the housekeeping staff at the compound is that you can’t tell anyone what hilarious bullshit comes out of the Avengers’ mouths. The other staff, sure, but not your friends on the outside.

Well, insofar as you’ve got friends on the outside. Which… not really.

“Well, we got started at a little bar in Minsk,” Bucky begins.

Your eyes widen as you slide a wine glass into its upside-down holder under the overhead cabinet. In Minsk?

Uh oh.

“Nice and dim, a couple booths… Kinda a mix between classy and not.”

You steal a glance at Bucky. His eyes, bluer today with that fitted turquoise shirt he’s wearing, are sparkling in the sun streaming in from the giant windows. He’s not looking at you—why would he be?

Okay, enough dreaming, back to the tumblers.

“There’s this table of middle-aged guys hitting on the waitress,” Bucky continues. “It’s normal stuff there, y’know.”

“Normal here too,” Natasha says drily.

“Well. Yeah.” Bucky shifts in his seat. “Anyway, so in walks this woman with a long coat and tall boots—”

“How do you know her boots were tall if she was wearing a coat?” Sam interrupts.

“Cool your tits, I’m getting there,” Bucky says. “Anyway, so I was at the bar, getting intel, and this woman struts in—no, she wasn’t strutting, she was… stalking, I guess. Like Nat stalks.”

You have you bite your tongue. Comparing his date to Natasha? He’s cutting it close.

“So she stalks over to the bar, orders a drink, and heads straight for the dart board at the back.”

There’s a particular glass that you don’t recognize. It’s beautiful—nearly paper-thin, with a detailed pattern of air bubbles caught inside the glass—but sturdy enough to survive the dishwasher. Asgardian, maybe? You tilt it to catch the light, and the air bubbles inside glitter like gold. Gorgeous.

“And you’re just watching her?” Sam asks.

“If you were there, you’d’ve been watching her too,” Bucky assures him. “Trust me.”

“So… did you play darts with her?” Natasha asks.

The Asgardian glass can go in the display against the wall, you decide.

“Not exactly.”

You can hear the glee in Bucky’s voice, and you let out a slow breath as you turn back to face the room and get another bunch of glasses to put away.

“She grabs all of the darts in one hand and immediately comes back to the bar, takes a swig of her drink, and then turns around and whips a dart at this blond guy sitting at the other end of the bar.”

“Shit,” Sam says; in the same breath, Natasha says, “Good for her.”

Bucky’s quivering in his seat. “Hits him straight in the cheek. So the bartender yells, the middle-aged men yell, and I have to duck because the blond’s friend—I think his name was Zhuk—pulls out a gun and shoots at her, but she’d already moved and it would’ve hit me if I didn’t get outta the way.”

“Shit!” Sam exclaims. “The fuck! What kinda crazy—!”

You grit your teeth, hard, as you slide champagne glasses into their slots hanging under the counter. It’s so hard not to speak, but you’re gagged as thoroughly as if—well, hm. You squeeze your eyes shut for the barest moment to contain your latest urge to grin. Not quite as thoroughly gagged.

Still, you can’t butt in. Bucky has to tell this tale on his own.

“My kinda crazy,” Bucky says smugly. “Smart crazy.”

“Funny,” Natasha teases, “that’s my type too.”

Bucky stretches out his leg and nudges her knee fondly with the toe of his boot.

“Anyway she throws the rest of the darts at once, then she just Obi-Wan Kenobis her way out of her coat and she’s fucking draped in weapons. Real beauties. Pistol between the shoulder blades, holsters at hip and thigh, knives in her belt…”

“Are we on a date with her weaponry or with her?” Sam says.

You’re finished putting the glasses away, and you’ve got to leave. You grab the tray, stuff it under your arm, and as you leave, you hear Bucky’s voice get louder with excitement.

“Both! She was just so stunning! She took them down to perfection, and I just sat back and watched. Maximum pain, non-lethal, the perfect take-out if you wanted to get…”

Not until you’re on an elevator do you break out laughing.

—

“So who won?”

Bucky blinks at you, confused. You’re in a tiny round booth, and he’s as close to you as he can be without actually dragging you into his lap. Arm twined through yours, hands clasped, fingers interlinked, your ankle crossed over his.

“In the best date ever battle,” you explain, and he cackles.

“I did, of course,” he says, looking for all the world like the Cheshire Cat. “I mean, first of all there was the spree through the back streets, then the disabling of a neighborhood power grid, a break for soup—”

“That was really good soup.” You sigh wistfully and lean your cheek on Bucky’s shoulder, smiling.

“Hah, yeah. What can I say, I’ve got good taste.” He squeezes your hand.

“Yes you do,” you declare.

“Where was I?” He clicks his teeth. “Oh yeah. Soup, you pretending to be a prostitute extremely enthusiastically—”

“Anyone would be enthusiastic if they got to hump your thigh and make out with you, even if they weren’t getting fake-paid for it,” you point out, squeezing his leg for good measure. “Anyway, don’t forget the fact that you made a damn convincing client.” Your fingers dance towards his crotch.

He glares at you, but he’s grinning, and those sweet lines around his eyes and lips make your heart dance.

“Yeah,” he says. “Guess I did.”

You kiss his cheek and pick up your glass. “Here’s to—let’s see, convincing people we like each other—”

“And don’t,” Bucky adds.

“—taking down a HYDRA sleeper cell with darts and daggers, and me not cracking up while you told that story to your hopefully oblivious teammates,” you finish.

Bucky snags his glass and clinks it against yours. “I’ll drink to that,” he says. “But first, I’d rather drink to us.”

“Just us?” you ask.

He smiles and leans his forehead against yours, pulling your clasped hands against his heart. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

You stare, eyes fixed on his, your heart pounding and toes curling and breath catching. The restaurant sounds—clinks from the kitchen, other couples’ voices, the orchestral music piping in above your head—all fade as you drown in his ocean-deep eyes.

“Yeah,” he says again. “Just us.”

#hbc week of love #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x y/n #winter soldier imagine #becca writes

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iammarriedtomothman · 5 years ago

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Do it for... Scarafaggio X Reader fic

I’m a huge Gio stan and with the encouragement of the server, I’m posting my first ficlet based on a conversation we had about Gio Thank to @pastelnacht for the additional dialogue

(Scarafaggio is the Italian don in the conglomerate)

He heard her well before she slammed her body through the doors of the smoking lounge.

After she had moved into the estate, Gio had told her that she didn’t need to work anymore if she didn't want to, that his fortune alone would keep her happy for 30 lifetimes. But she loved her job, and so she kept her job at the nearby college.

But, like any job will inevitably have, Y/N had a bad day at work, which she unwound from by drinking with her friends and really anyone in the estate who would drink with her.

The problem was, his sweet little moon was a lightweight, 2 glasses of wine would have her draped over Bajo like a blanket.

So here she was, barging down the door of the smoking room, causing Cia and Zhuk’s head to snap up when she shouted “GIO!”

Y/N strutted drunkenly over to him, still holding her half finished old fashioned, and slumped into his lap. “Do you know why I do it baby?” She slurred, swinging an arm around his neck “I do it for you baby”

Oh she was drunk drunk, he chuckled, wanting to amuse his pretty little moon

“Oh really? You mean the job you in no way have to have? I think the others call me your ‘sugar daddy’ is that right?” He chuckled and kissed her forehead

“Yes! We gonna make it baby!” She exclaimed, leaning back into his arms “Imma get us a studio apartment in the city!” she was starting to cry

She reached into her pocket of her shorts, pulling out...money? Honestly Gio hadn’t dealt with actual money in so long, having dealt with crypto-currency, online banking transfers and the barter system.

She pulled out a few crumpled ones and threw it at him. “Get yourself something nice baby i’m takin you to Olive Garden!”

He bristled at the action, olive garden, peasant money? He watched her get up and waltzed out of the room “gonna treat you right baby”

“Okay” he laughed and returned to his smoking

Zuck looked up at him, smirking “She certainly is different than the breathers you normally bring to the estate”

“She certainly is but, I’m not sure what you’re implying” Gio responded, looking curiously over at the Russian

“Well” Cia spoke up “The breathers you normally would bring would be selfish, take your money and leave, honestly we all thought you just had horrible taste in breathers”

“But Y/N is different” Zhuk cut in

“Yeah, we don’t hate her, we actually really really adore her” Cia shot back

Gio sighed “My friends, it’s taken me awhile to realize this but… for a long time I guess I was bringing home shallow and bad lovers to prove a point to you all, subconsciously I guess. That humans and breathers were flawed and evil. But, you showed me the good in the world and then, Y/N.” He smiled and looked down in his lap, her wadded one still laying there “She’s my sunshine, I can see the good in humanity through her. Her passion for her work, the fact she still wants to work, the excitement she shares made me realize what I was doing.”

He chuckled, knowing a blush would have been forming on his face if we were still able as his friends shot him knowing looks. He picked up his drink and swirled it slowly, lifting it to his face “My friends, I'm not used to being wrong, but this is a welcomed exception” before taking a sip, still smiling.

She later came to him, after she had sobered up the next morning. “Hey Gio?” She asked

“Yes my love?” he responded, looking up from his paper

She walked over to him, gently sitting down on his lap, “I just want to say, I do in fact, do it all for you, even though I don’t have to, you get me through the day. I want to share my knowledge with the world and i’m so grateful I have you to come home too and have you support me through it”

She kissed him softly on the lips

“And never agree to let me take you to Olive Garden, we’re classier than that, we go to Red Lobster”

#Gio #gio x reader #the conglomerate #beetlejuice mafia au #scarafaggio #Scarafaggio x reader #my husband #he's my husband and I love him

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hellfirenacht · 5 years ago

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Gio and Humanity

Gio is part of The Conglomerate, a Beetlejuice Mafia AU. For more info visit @beetlebitchywitch, @sofasmut, @realmonsterboyhours @do-ya-hear-that-sound and @beetlejuicebeadoll

Gio/Reader near the end.

The 1900s did a number on Gio with the advancing technology. He saw a lot of the worst of humanity so he closed himself off. It wasn't until the past decade that he started to try and interact with humans again and saw just how drastically the world was changing.

Gio was used to change being slow and steady, with occasional quick bursts of things that were inevitable, but now the world was so much different than he could have ever imagined. The conglomerate often joked about Zhuk acting like an old man, but Gio was something beyond that. Bajo, Cia, Zhuk, even Bee told him that he should stop hiding and try to spend time with humans again- or at least come spend time with them in human places. That's when Gio started seeing the beauty of humanity again; when the boys refused to let him read the depressing papers and make him talk to humans, he started to remember why he chose his human form to begin with.

Gio goes to one of Bajos night clubs and gets invited to dance over and over again. He's so used to people fearing him, but this generation is so different, so fearless. A group of humans, drunk and dressed in wild clothing say that they are "adopting" him for the night. They say he sticks out like a sore thumb with his super fancy suit, so they gotta take care of him. Gio doesn't dance, especially when Bajo is giving him such a shit-eating grin, but he does watch drinks and lets one of them try on his jacket. Even though his new... friends?... are drunk, they still are looking out for each other. He sees the other Dons in this group and thanks them for a nice time and orders them a limo to take them home safe.

He spends a few nights at one of Zhuk's luxury resorts, thinking that first night was a fluke. He spends time by the pool, he catches up on some reading when someone sits next to him and asks him about his book. They end up talking for hours, and the person asks if he has the next book in the series yet. Gio admits he didn't know it was a series and the person reaches into their backpack and hands him a well-loved copy of the book. Normally Gio would scoff at the idea of owning anything second-hand, but this is different. This is a gift from a stranger that wanted nothing more than to make sure he got to read it as soon as possible. For the next few days the two meet up and just talk about the book. There's clear passion in the persons eyes, and Gio is surprised that they hadn't made a move on him. They talk about how the series influenced them to become a writer, and how they've been trying to get published but it's hard. When Gio finally leaves the resort, he leaves a card for the person- a number to his own personal publishing company.

Ciarog's bar is.... far rowdier than he was used to. Even Bajo's night club had it's moments of calm between songs but Cia's bar was different. It was loud, and there was constant singing and fighting and more singing and more drinking. He sat at the bar, trying to hold a conversation with his fellow Don, but Cia was all over the place- mixing drinks, chatting with customers, flirting with patrons. Gio always felt that Cia was the least professional when it came to his front, but he was starting to realize that it was because he acted unprofessional that his fronts worked so well. He couldn't help but be jealous at how easily talking to humans came to Cia. Gio was about to give up on the night and leave when a man, much taller and bigger than Gio's current form, tapped him hard on the shoulder. The man said that Gio looked like "a right mean cunt" and Gio was ready to show this man what that disrespect was about. Then Cia puts a firm hand on his shoulder, laughter on his lips. He explains that this man was just saying that he thought Gio looked interesting and that he wanted to be friends. Cia hands the two a shot of his top-shelf Whiskey and, still confused, they do a shot together. The big guy laughs and pats Gio on the back and brings him over to his table filled with his biker friends. They spend the rest of the evening drinking, and Gio learns their gang's drinking song. He makes a note to get their information from Cia. These men were good, and would do well in their Mafia on a civilian level.

Gio has never been terribly fond of America if he was being completely honest, but he did love New Orleans and visiting Scarabee's casinos. Out of all the Don's fronts, this was probably his favorite. It was hot and muggy, and the bayou seemed so peaceful that night. Though he wasn't a huge fan of gambling, he did enjoy a good round of cards. The night was going well enough, though not nearly as memorable as the others had been. He was polite, made small talk, and was considering retiring for the night when he noticed a young woman by herself in the corner. She didn't seem interested in being there, and his curiosity gets the best of him. When he introduces himself, she's more closed off than the others were.

That was fine, he was used to that. Still, he wanted to know why she was sitting alone and after some prodding (he always did get what he wanted), she admits that she was kind of tricked into coming here. She was visiting family and her "family" had told her that they were going on a ghost tour but no, that was a lie and now she's stuck on a floating casino with nothing to do and gambling away her last paycheck didn't sound like fun.

Gio would normally call Scarabee over to entertain a lady with ghost stories but he was nowhere to be seen at the moment. So Gio just.. starts talking. Telling her the truth of the ghosts of NOLA, and the entire time she's rapt with attention and drinking in his every word. Occasionally she'd ask a question, but once or twice he found that he didn't have an answer. In those cases she's pull out her phone and they'd look together. It was.... refreshing to not have answers for once. It was simple. He didn't have anything to offer her, instead just making sure that he paid her tab.

Back at home, he wanders his museum and reflects on what the past few weeks have been. It's hard to be constantly having to change your mind about humanity, but there he was. He stops when he sees you, staring at one of his paintings. It had been a long while since he had seen a human as beautiful as the art that he surrounded himself with, he goes to introduce himself and asks if he can help with anything.

You smile and shake your head, saying that you just really love this piece based off of Beauty and the Beast. He raises an eyebrow, coaxing you to go on. You take a moment to think and tell him that it was never really about Belle, it was about the Beast learning to love again. Yes, Belle was pretty and it helped, but anyone can like a pretty face. You explain that the Beast needed to fall in love with humanity before he could fall in love with her for real.

Gio stares hard for a moment, wondering what kind of on-the-nose bullshit that was. Did the universe just enjoy calling him out like that? (Yes). He offers you his arm, and tells you that he'd love to hear more about what you think of the paintings and other works of art in his museum. You agree happily, and he walks off with you, starting to fall in love with humanity again

#beetlejuice x reader #the conglomerate #gio x reader #gio #mafia au #nacht fic

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go-whovian-universe · 5 years ago

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This is so cute and sweet! I found myself smiling the whole time I read this!!

May I ask for more of Zhuk? Specifically him getting kissed by his s/o randomly!

You were making every effort to be silent, shoes removed, steps taken at long intervals, door eased open. You were trying so hard to sneak up on him, and Zhuk almost laughed, ignoring you so that you would think your endeavor successful. Sometimes he wondered if you forgot his true nature, forgot that he could smell your perfume from two doors down, could hear the flutter of your pulse as you neared him. Ah well. Let the little one have their fun.

You crept closer, he could hear your breath coming just a little faster now, and he kept his head down. focused on his paperwork, though it was hard to keep just the faintest hint of a smile from tugging at the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, you pounced, leaping to toss your arms around his neck and plant a solid, warm kiss on his cheek. “Gotcha!”

Zhuk pretended to jump, laughing as he swiveled in his chair to face you, big hands wrapping around your waist to pull you into his lap. “You certainly did, kotenok.”

“I’m so sneaky.”

“Yes, the sneakiest.”

#*heart eyes*#x reader #zhuk x reader #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice the musical x reader #zhuk #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice au #beetlejuice the musical au #mafia au #au #the conglomerate

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angelicspaceprince · 5 years ago

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Take Me To Church

Author: Ama

Title: Take Me To Church

Pairing: Zhuk/Reader

Character/s: Zhuk

Word Count: 6, 437 words

Warnings: Smut (18+ only please), cockwarming, tentacles, Priest Kink, sex in a church, Demon Priest, hypnosis, aphrodisiac, stomach bulge, double and triple penetration, sex on an altar

Prompt: You were just trying to keep to yourself and avoid the rain when no one seemed to want to help you after you are left stranded in the middle of nowhere. The thing that lives in this abandoned church seems to have other ideas.

Notes: I set out to destroy myself and managed to take some people down with me. It was.....fun. Many hours of work and putting it off, its finally done. Also. There is a part two in the works so if you want to be tagged in it....send me an ask. Translations for long pieces of Russian is at the bottom of the post in order of appearance. Enjoy.

Buy Me a Coffee

Take Me To Church

You hadn’t meant to get lost at this time of night. It was dark, it was raining, and you were just done with today. Your car broke down in the middle of nowhere, you walked for hours, getting lost and finally finding your way to a near-abandoned town and, once you found someone to actually help you, every door was slammed in your face. Rain turned into a storm, a downpour, and you just wanted somewhere to hide until the rain passed. You saw a rundown looking church when you first walked into the town, and that was only a block away. Perhaps there would do? As far as you knew, churches were open to all in need, and you were in need of not getting sick before finding a phone to call for a mechanic.

You shuffle in and move to sit on one of the pews. It was empty, cold, made of grey stone that seemed to be crumbling in places with stained glass windows, some broken and covered with increasingly dampening cardboard whilst others stayed intact. You weren’t fussy. It’ll do for now. You are dripping with the rainwater, the only sound in the entire church is your laboured breath from running and the drip, drip of water running down your hair and onto the floor. You think for a minute - is it really a good idea to be staying in these wet, cold clothes? You look around, no one else is in the church that you know of. Perhaps you should just slide your coat off.

The desire to at least see how wet your clothes were under your coat proves to be too great as you carefully slide it off and lay it beside you. Your clothes are plastered to your body, saturated from the intense weather. You sigh loudly in defeat, you just couldn’t win today.

The sound of the door opening and closing loudly followed by the gruff voice of the bar patron stirs you from your self-pitying thoughts. Fuck, you said you were going to leave and wait by your car. You couldn’t bear the idea of getting into another argument with the man. You look around for somewhere to hide, eyes flickering to the confessional. Maybe? It was certainly the closest.

You dash in, leaving your jacket behind, and close the door behind you, moving to sit on the surprisingly comfortable seat. You weren’t an expert in these sorts of things, but you thought these to be always uncomfortable and wooden, but this was almost like a cushion that went from the bottom of the seat all the way up above your head. Even if it was lumpy, it was more comfortable than the pews out there.

It was dark, and the only thing you could hear was your laboured breath and the steps of someone investigating the church. You swear he is nearby, you hold your breath and try to keep yourself silent when what you think is him brushes past the confessional.

A low, rumbling voice shocks you as he greets the bar patron, asking if he is well. You can’t quite make out the conversation, except for the newer voice reassuring the man that everything is okay, he has it sorted, and he can go home now. There is a bit more back and forth that slowly fades as the new man leads the bar patron away. You let out a small sigh of relief, sagging back slightly. Now you just have to wait for him to leave before you can get out of here. You don’t feel safe here, you need to get back to your car, weather be damned! You’d rather battle out a horrid respiratory infection than be in some weird cult sacrifice to the village’s local god, or whatever Stephen King-esque thing this town seemed to be into.

You wait quietly, trying to quiet your loud, uneven breaths as your adrenaline slowly starts to wane. Seconds before you go to leave, you feel it. Something cold, slimy, slippery curls its way around your foot. Before you even have a chance to jump or scream, the confessional screen opens, causing you to jolt and the thing to unhook from your ankle. You look down and see nothing. Perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you. But you still have a problem. The priest now knows you’re here. How were you going to explain that you were hiding from someone like a child, simply because you didn’t want to interact with them?

“Do you have anything you wish to confess?” He finally asks, his heavily accented voice giving you a small shock, having grown tired of the silence that stretches between the two of you.

You wince. “Well, actually, uh-” You trail off, and you can almost feel the amusement rolling off of him in waves.

“Or were you just hiding from Mr MacNamara?” His voice is kind, but also bemused. Even then, it’s calming and draws you in. Just something about it, something tinged within it makes you think there is something he is hiding. You shake it off, what would a priest have to hide?

“Yeah.” You say quietly, guiltily. “I’m sorry si- Father, I’ll go.” It wasn’t really polite or religiously sensitive to hide in what you believed to be a sacred place, at least to the priest.

Your hand barely leaves your side, however, when he speaks. “Never mind the reason you originally came here, my child. You are here now, there must be something you need to get off your chest. Why else would you run and hide into a church and then a confessional, unless you have a guilty conscience or something you need to speak about.” He offers softly, his voice drawing you closer and closer to him as you feel your body relax into the soft booth. You jolt. No. You shouldn’t be here. You are making a mockery of his religion, at least, you feel like you are.

“I’m not Catholic. Or religious.” You state bluntly.

“My confessional is open to all who need to clear their heart and mind.” He doesn’t sound like he’s insisting, rather that he’s just patient. Waiting for you to finally crumble and agree to confess to something. You might as well. Just to let him leave you alone.

“Where do you want me to start?” You sigh dramatically, leaning back and getting comfortable. If he wanted a confession, you were going to waste his time a little.

“Perhaps the one that is weighing you down the most.�� He instructs, amusement seeping in his accented voice. What was it? Russian?

You shrug. “Lusted over a married man, that’s a pretty big sin I suppose. Would you consider it a major sin, Father?” You start with the one you are sure he will question the most and then have you move on and leave. The idea of making the priest squirm amuses you, and you’re almost tempted to state that you lusted over a man of God to see what he’d say. Alas, you decide against it. He stays silent for a second.

“Did you tempt him?”

“God yeah.” You try not to act proud. “Worked too. That’s adultery, isn’t it? Or at least, tempting someone into adultery.”

“Did you enjoy it?” He sounds slightly conflicted. Good.

You can feel your body begin to melt and relax into the pew, shifting slightly as you start to grow warm, starting from your ankles, almost like a blanket has been placed over your feet. “Mhm.” Is all you can get out. “It was. Good. We didn’t regret it. It happened a few times, but. Neither of us regretted it.”

“Did the wife know?” You shrug.

“Dunno. Don’t care, to be honest.” Silence begins to tick over you as you wait for your dismissal. But it doesn’t come.

“Anything else you wish to confess before I give you your penance?” His voice is still soft, inviting. You go to groan as he speaks again. “You’re here, you might as well use this time wisely.”

Wisely. Yeah right. Your jaw clicks, taking the challenge as you start to ‘confess’ your many sins. Missing mass, as you’ve never been to mass since after your confirmation, using contraception as every good girl does, being envious of others, having bouts of extreme anger, the times you had sex with another girl, both taking the Lord’s name in vain and being blasphemous, your slightly excessive masturbation habit, every lie you could think of, how you left religion behind a long time ago, your impressive pornography collection. Every little thing becomes pettier and pettier as you try to get him to shut you up and leave, but instead, he just keeps asking question after question, digging deeper as if trying to figure out what to add to your penance. You even stooped so low to start telling him about the time you stole chocolate from your local supermarket when you were a toddler, and every pen, eraser, piece of candy, anything from anyone as a child, be it malicious or by accident. Your eyes look firmly in the space in front of you, a dark nothingness - didn’t they have candles or something to light up this incredibly dark room? -, but better than to see his face and how schooled it must be. That would frustrate you even more. He didn’t get annoyed, or frustrated, or anything. Eventually, however, he decided he didn’t want to play your game anymore. “Y/N, look at me.”

You are so busy with your revenge that you don’t feel your body slowly growing warmer and warmer, relaxing into the soft back of the confessional seat, voice growing softer as your eyes start to close. That one command to look at him has your eyes snapping open as you turn to look him in the eye.

They were glowing.

Wait a minute.

You didn’t tell him your name.

But that’s not the thing that’s concerning you now, your eyes beginning to bulge out of your head when you take in the sight before you.

Bright amber eyes encourage you to relax for him, obey him, trust in him, which didn’t concern you at this moment. No, what concerned you were the mass amount of tentacles that seemed to be coming out of his back, covering his back wall and crawling your way into your small cubicle. You see him smirk faintly at your realisation. “Relax, Y/N. Do not worry about them, malen'kiy. Focus on my voice instead.” He instructs quietly, and it almost works. Were it not for the cold jab in your gut when you realise. Something was moving over you.

You look down and let out a loud gasp of air, your body in so much shock a scream couldn’t form. Every inch of your part of the confessional was crawling with tentacles. They filled the walls, the floor and, to your horror, was the cushion between you and the hard, uncomfortable wood of the confessional chair. “I-”

“Shhh, malyshka, don’t stress yourself. They won’t harm you.” He sounds bemused as you start to squirm, finding your movement restricted. You struggle, and something seems to squeeze you until you stop.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

Like a long, black snake, one of the tentacles had slowly wound its way up your legs, waist, hips and was slowly beginning to climb its way up to your torso and shoulders. “Dorogoy, relax.” He reminds you gently, voice inviting, warm. You relax as you feel the tentacle coil around you another time, slowly, gently.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope. That was enough for you. You grab the doorframe, ignoring the tentacles now moving to hold you there, and you use it as leverage to pull yourself up and out of his grasp, slime from the one grasping onto you giving you enough leeway to climb out and into the cold of the stone church, tugging back on your hands until they are freed as you land on your back, scurrying back against the rough floor. You are freezing again and, when you look down, you realise that you had been worked out of your clothes, leaving you in just your bra and panties. You move to stand and rush towards the still slightly cracked open door when the other side of the confessional opens, tentacles that were once climbing out of the door you just lept from moving back into the shadows. Your blood turns to ice as you freeze in place as his loud footsteps echo through the room.

He’s huge.

Tall, dressed in the usual black slacks and shirt with the clerical collar that you’d expect all priests to wear, he was intimidating. The scar over one of his still bright and bemused amber eyes doing nothing to settle you as what seemed like countless, black, dripping, slimy tentacles came out from behind him, all constantly moving. You swallow, unable to move or think as you look at him. He couldn’t be human, a demon perhaps? But you thought no demon could ever set foot in a church?

“Ne boysya, ne begi, moy rebenok.” He speaks softly as the tentacles start to climb the floor directly towards your feet.

It was enough to break the spell. You stand up and bolt in the opposite direction, away from the door. Surely there was a back exit? You dash and, somehow, escape every grab attempt he makes at you as he calmly, slowly, follows you. He knows this church like the back of his hand, and he knows there is no escape for you. You trip over nothing, landing flat on the floor as something twists its way up your ankle and calf. Hot adrenaline kicks in and you kick back wildly until you are free and able to make another mad dash towards the back of the church.

Nothing.

Not a door, not even a window. A set of rickety-looking stairs. You look behind you and see his shadow slowly come into the doorway, his tentacles climbing the walls, ceiling, floor, slowly. As if searching for you. Another hot pump of adrenaline hits your body as you instantly run up the stairs, yelping when one gives way under your feet. You hear his chuckle, low and dark as he stands at the bottom of the stairwell, just staring up at you as you pull yourself up to the top stair. “Don’t hurt yourself, Y/N, ya predpochitayu, chtoby moi blyuda ostavalis' tselymi i nevredimymi, poka ya ne poluchu ikh v svoi ruki.” He purrs as his ever-moving appendages stop for a split second before rushing directly towards you.

You can’t help the scream that leaves your lips as you rush past the open door and slam it shut behind you, his loud laugh echoing into the room around you as you see the black, oozy tendrils, smaller than the main tentacles but still just as scary somehow, slowly make their way under the gaps of the door, slowly covering and dissolving the wood with their goo. Fuck. You need to keep running.

Up on the upper floor, there really wasn’t anything. A little nest of coats and blankets, obviously a makeshift bed, and a broken-down organ. You look over the edge as the door starts to shake, already on awful foundations, it won’t take long for it to break down. If you could just get downstairs and hide until he went searching for you, then you can make a run for the door. Your eyes scan what you had around you, knowing that if you jumped you’d probably break your neck on impact. Then you see it. A ladder. It looks old with the wood rotting, but it will suit your needs for now.

You rush over and start climbing down the ladder quickly, hitting the ground underneath the mezzanine just in time to hear the door break. Shit. No way you could make a run for the door now, even then beforehand your chances were slim. You remain well hidden from him as you plaster your back against the wall so as he looks over the church, not an inch of you or your shadow can be seen. He takes in a deep breath through his nose as you look for a hiding spot.

“I can smell your fear, zakuska.” He purrs. “It smells delicious.” You swallow as you continue to search before realising. The altar.

You lift the piece of fabric that reaches all the way to the ground and bite back a cry of success. There is a gap there big enough for you to hide. You smuggle your way in, unseen by the demon as you curl up and try to quieten and control your breathing.

His feet land heavily on the stone floor seconds later as he apparently grows tired of your game and jumps from the upper floor. You jolt when you realise he’s landed on the other side of the altar. Just stay quiet, and wait until he’s gone. Then you can run. Your stomach feels sick with nerves as you wait and listen to the demon’s footsteps as they fill the church. You don’t realise it yet, but he is pacing around the altar, smelling your scent and knowing exactly where you are hiding.

His low chuckle sounds even more ominous as it echoes around the empty church. “You can't hide from me now, roza. I grew up in this church, I know every inch of its cold walls, every shadow, every crack, every stone. Give up now, and I may just go easy on you.” He warns. You stay still. There is no way you are giving in to him, not now. Not ever. You’ll hide until you get the opportunity to run. “No? Alright then. Just remember, little one, you chose your fate.” He sounds tired as he says this and, before you know it, the cloth is pulled back and everything on it clatters to the ground and he is right there in front of you, sharp teeth gleaming as he stares at you. “Hello there roza. It appears that I’ve caught you.” He teases. Before you can even get a chance to move, you are dragged out into the air, warm vines sliding their way around your body and hoisting you into the air as they move to support your legs, arms, torso. Even one is so considerate to support your head. Higher and higher you go, them tightening as you struggle as if to keep you steady. “I wouldn’t continue that if I were you, Y/N.” He warns. “It wouldn’t be a pleasant landing if you do.” The threat is crystal clear. You fall, he won’t be catching you.

You go deadly still and try to bite back a sob. He caught you and now he has you. Suspended in the air in just your underwear, nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. You were his.

You don’t even register the tentacle pressing against your lips until it’s made its way into your mouth, tasting salty yet strangely sweet as it pushes into your mouth and down your throat, causing you to choke slightly. It pulls back to just before where you started to gag and tear up and slowly starts to pump a thick, almost syrupy liquid, causing you to gulp out of fear of drowning in the air. For a hot second, the idea of biting down to hurt him crosses your mind, but his threat rings again in your ear. You could faintly hear the splat of you falling to your death if you did something wrong in the back of your mind. So, you continue to drink whatever it was filling your system, not noticing how your once tense muscles start to relax into the hold of the black, leaking appendages or how your face is becoming flushed, eyes glazed, body slowly beginning to warm despite the cool air. All you can feel is the throb between your legs and just how empty you feel. You whine, the sound quiet with your mouth stretched open as you start to suck, hips beginning to buck against nothing. You need to be full, you need something inside of you. You start to claw at your little clothing, even that’s too much of a barrier. You need to be full, to be touched, to be fucked. You can feel the demon’s amusement under you as he slowly starts to help, tendrils moving to tug down at your panties as others unhook and slide off your bra, leaving you bare as you continue to ride against nothing. You are already wet down to your knees, slick just dripping from your already sopping wet sex just from being given a little dose of….whatever it was he was feeding you.

You don’t even realise you’ve been lowered onto the altar until the cold marble was pressed against your skin, two large, cool hands tugging your knees apart so amber eyes could look down over you. His hair is a dark green mixed with magenta whereas before, you swore it was just green or black with a trick of the light changing its colour. What did that mean?

It didn’t matter now, all that mattered was being full. You whine pitifully as you jerk your hips up, coaxing him to at least slide a finger into you to relieve the pressure. He snickers at your desperate attempts for help before one of the thinner tentacles moves to press against your entrance, entering maybe an inch before withdrawing teasingly before finally, it pushes in slowly, confidently, until it’s pressing against your cervix. You clench around him, moaning softly as he stares down at you, the rims of his eyes slowly turning a matching magenta colour. Was he staring down at you hungrily or adoringly? Fuck it, you don’t care at this moment.

You grind up at him, babbling nonsense from your still full mouth as you try to beg for more. He tuts, taking pity on you as the tentacle inside of you begins to expand, slowly filling and stretching you out as you shudder around him. You felt so full, it felt perfect. All you needed. You rotate your hips, encouraging him to move, goddamnit, letting out a small whine as you feel him slowly pull out only to thrust back in, the movement bouncing you up the altar slightly. Fuck. You are sure nothing has ever felt so good in your entire life. It’s not long before the tentacle down your throat and the one in your pussy start to move in tandem, you being helpless to do anything but just suck and clench and cling on for dear life as you feel yourself go higher and higher, right to the very brink. Like waves crashing against a cliff, so does your orgasm in that moment, wave after wave hitting you as you cry out around the appendage in your mouth, clenching around the one inside of you as you jolt up as white-hot pleasure washes over you again and again.

Your hips twitch lazily as you feel the heat that bubbled over slowly return to its previously itching warmth. That couldn’t be the end of it, right? Surely not. You need more. More, more, more, more.

“Oh, malen'kaya zakuska,” his growl sends shivers up your spine as you feel his nails dig into your skin, leaving large crescent-shaped welts in their wake, “this is far from over.”

You whine as you start to feel the feelers inside of you start to move again, this time more roughly if at all possible. It wasn’t enough, why did you feel so empty? It’s not until you feel something small probe at your ass that you realise what you were missing. Yes.

The tendril pushes in slightly, just the tip slipping inside of you before a small gush of something hot, wet and sticky floods you. Then, slowly, almost gently, it starts to fill you, just enough that you’ll feel completely full once it’s finished. Slowly, it starts to grow and expand, thickening as it stretches you out, sating the heat inside your belly as well as making it erupt into an inferno as your blood boils, eyes rolling back as your ass joins in the brutal fucking. You barely have the energy to move, using what little energy you have left to babble out the words ‘please’ and ‘Father’ over and over, muffled with your mouth full, your arms and legs laying limp, dangling off the altar as your toes curl every time he hits a spot deep inside of you that causes electricity to course through your veins, each time a loud grunt falls from your lips, echoing in the room. You can hear his deep laugh and feel his amusement roll off of him in waves as he continues to fuck you nice and deep, everything moving almost inhumanely fast, your brain barely able to keep up.

Your body still sensitive from your last orgasm, it doesn’t take long for another to wash over you, more powerful than the last, your entire body shaking as you feel your slick slowly slide down your thighs and the ornate table under you before audibly dripping onto the floor right next to the priest’s feet. Your body tenses, it feels like you have been set on fire as your body is engulfed once again in a white-hot blaze as a hoarse scream leaves your throat, hands curling into fists before your body slowly relaxes again, feeling boneless and like you’re made of jelly, you try to catch your breath.

It still wasn’t enough.

The Father’s hands move from your hips to beside your face, caging you in against him, the look in his eyes positively feral as he takes in your fucked out frame, glazed eyes and mindless, dopey smile. He purrs as the tentacle inside your cunt slowly slips out, his grin widening when you protest weakly. “Shh, malen'kiy, I’m not through with you yet.” He growls lowly. You feel the head of his cock brush between your folds, collecting your slick as he prepares himself. He feels huge, like nothing you’ve ever had inside of you before. If you weren’t so high on endorphins and whatever he had pumped into you, you’d be frightened. But now? You crave it.

Your hips tilt upwards slightly for a bare second before slamming back against the stone of the altar. A clear invitation. Fuck me.

Slowly, he pushes inside of you, the mass of tentacles from his back beginning to slide up the sides of the altar and over your body as he does so. It feels like an eternity before he bottoms out, feeling stretched to the absolute limit, as you cry out loudly. Finally. It feels right. You feel absolutely perfect with him inside of you, the Goldilocks Zone, not too big, not too small. Just right. You could finally settle.

Unfortunately, the priest has other plans. It feels like he is waiting for you to adjust, but you feel a smaller, thinner tendril slowly wrap around his cock as he sits inside of you, slowly making it become almost ribbed in texture. At the same time, you feel something else slide into your mouth, another tentacle of the same size as the one currently occupying your throat, twirling with its twin as it does so and yet another, albeit smaller, one probe at your ass, slowly sliding into you without hesitation, ready to join in the fun. You can feel two slowly trail up your stomach and twist around your breasts once, twice, enough to squeeze them roughly as the tips open up to cover over your nipples and start sucking away gently. Finally, one more tendril, smaller than all the rest, moves to flick at your clit, causing your head to slam back as it causes a near painful jolt through your system. The priest chuckles, his hand moving to rub at the back of your head tenderly, making sure you haven’t hurt yourself before it returns to its previous position. “Ready, roza?” He asks softly, eyes watching yours for any notion of approval for him to continue.

You nod, slightly confused by his sudden gentle demeanour. His wicked smile returns, his hips rolling against yours as he groans lowly as he takes in just out tight and warm you are, in comparison to his cool body. “Fuck, malyshka, you take me so well.” He growls as you moan around the appendages stretching out your throat, the tendril around his cock dragging against your walls deliciously. Slowly, but surely, every growth out of his back moves in tandem, the ones in your ass withdrawing when his cock enters you and pushing deep inside you when he pulls out, leaving just the tip inside. Your tits being squeezed and sucked at every time the tentacles in your throat pulls back, only to relax when they advance forward again. The small one on your clit, however, never lets up. Each little flick causes you to buck up as you just try to hold on for the ride, eyes never leaving the priest’s in front of you as he stares down at you possessively, little growls leaving him every so often.

Eventually, every thrust up into you causes loud noises to leave your body, barely able to keep up you just accept what is given to you as your body tenses, ready to be taken over that abyss once more. Your mouth goes slack, drool pooling in your mouth before slowly dripping out, leaving your checks wet in its wake. Something about the sight of you amuses the Father as he laughs his low, rumbly laugh as he looks down at you. “I think I’ll keep you. Kak ugoshcheniye. My own little toy to chase down and play with and fuck. What do you think about that, moya milaya malen'kaya blyad'?” When you don’t answer with words but with a pleading whine, his grin grows to an almost unnatural size, white teeth glinting in the faint light the candles around you provide. “Oh, how could I ever give such a pretty little thing like you up?” He purrs, his face moving down to press small kisses against your neck as you turn your head to the side, baring it openly for him. Something about that he apparently approved of, as suddenly his teeth are pressing down into your skin, a barely audible ‘mine’ vibrating against your skin before he slowly starts to suck, marking you. “Oh, I am definitely going to keep you, little Y/N.” He purrs happily, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster by the second.

It takes a few more flicks of your clit, and you definitely had been right on the brink since your last orgasm, before your entire body almost seizes as the near painful experience of you coming and coming and coming around him begins. A barely-there cry rips from your throat, you only just able to piece together the Father’s loud grunt before he’s spilling inside of you, on you, marking you. You were his. In every way possible.

You don’t so much as come down from your high as slam into darkness for a few seconds as your body twitches as the sensation of overstimulation begins to wrack through you. You are barely able to piece together the sensation of everything slowly pulling out of you and being collected into the priest’s arms, a warmed, too big coat wrapped around as he starts to walk towards the front door slowly. Your ears barely hear his voice, now soft and caring, as he talks to you in a gentle, loving tone. “-ika. Settle now, I've got you.”

You faintly recognise getting into a warmed car and it taking off before you start to fidget and whine loudly. “Empty.” You complain. After what felt like hours of being, if anything, too full to quickly being completely empty? No, no you needed something inside of you.

The priest tries to shush you before a small chuckle falls from his lips when he realises all attempts will end in vain. He carefully repositions you, sliding you down his rehardened cock with ease as it becomes your time to purr, resting your head against the crook of his neck as his hands move to rub your back and sides. “Rest now, moya lyubov'.” He instructs. And it’s an easy command to obey as you fall asleep, sitting in his lap with his cock inside of you as you are driven home.

You wake up to the sensation of someone rubbing some form of oil against your skin, the sound of a heavily accented voice murmuring small praises to you as you slowly regain awareness. You hiss at the feeling of coldness between your thighs, an ice pack having been pressed up against your pussy in order to help with the inevitable swelling that was going to occur after the beating it had been given. Your eyes flutter open and instantly make contact with the concerned amber ones of Zhuk’s. “Hey.” You say, voice a little hoarse from sleep, overuse and the throat fucking it endured.

“Hello, roza.” He says with a small smile, leaning over to grab the glass of water for you as you sit up slightly in order to sip at it. You fall back to the bed with a small grunt when your arms give out.

“Thank you.” You say, your lips quirked up into a small grin.

Several months ago, the two of you had found an abandoned town a few hours away from the manor, including a crumbly, old, haunted-looking church and a very grouchy man who lived in a house on the outskirts of town, the only resident who was determined to stay there until he died. Two weeks later, after you, Bajo and Cia ended up getting a little too into the alcohol, as Zhuk carried your ass to bed, getting everything ready for the inevitable hangover in the morning, you told him about a fantasy you had since pretty much the onset of puberty.

“I want to get fucked in a church.” You stated bluntly, his lips twitching as he tries to hold back the amused look in his face. “I blame Catholic school. I spent too much time in Mass. I wanted there to be a demon priest who could fuck me brainless.” You declared. “With tentacles.” You added as an afterthought, turning to look at your husband with wide eyes. “Snuggles?”

He obliged, placing the asprin and water bottle on your bedside table before sliding into bed behind you, pulling you into his arms as you snuggled up. “What brought this confession on, moya zhena?” He asked, hand moving instantly to play with your hair as you wrap your arms around his chest.

You hummed. “The town we passed when you made the wrong turn.” You yawned, struggling to finish your sentence. “Brought it back to life because the church there looked hella haunted. Like a demon should live there.”

Zhuk went to ask more questions, but your gentle snores made it apparent that anything asked wasn’t going to be answered.

After that, plans were made. Zhuk was all too happy to fulfil your little fantasy, even going so far to offer to hypnotise you in order to make it feel more real and less like a scene. Everything was planned down to a T, with him promising to create a cheat so if you really were in distress and wished for the scene to end, the hypnosis would break and you could safeword out.

And it worked brilliantly.

Zhuk smiles as he looks down at you softly, hand moving to brush your hair back as he constantly scans your body for more bruises, more scratches, more cuts. Anything that needed attending to, and to make sure that he didn’t hurt you too badly. “Anything for you, kotenok.” He says, voice quiet as he slowly picks you up and pulls you into his arms and lap. “You did so well, took everything I had to give and were so beautiful whilst doing it.” He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Do you feel alright, little one?” He asks concern still very much apparent in his voice. You nod a little jerkily.

“Just tired.” You say with a fucked out grin. You feel incredible, and you wanted to ride this high for as long as possible. “Hold me?”

“Of course.”

A few seconds tick by as he moves to lay down on the bed, you in his lap as his fingers trace loose patterns on your skin. A thought was hammering his head and it was refusing to move on.

“Roza….” he starts hesitantly, knowing that under the hypnosis he gave you, anything you said had a basis of truth in it, “was I the married man you lusted over?”

You snort a small noise as your eyes flicker up to look at him, your body beginning to slowly relax as it prepares for sleep. “Duh.” You say, amusement sparkling in your eyes.

That does not help the confusion clouding Zhuk’s mind. “I married you, moya zhena.” He reminds as if you could have forgotten.

You nod as if to agree with his statement, secretly enjoying the baffled look on his face as he tries to follow your logic. “I know. I still lusted and lust over you though.” You say, grinning up at him.

His confusion leaks into amusement, a fond look taking over his face. “Y/N, I don’t think it counts if you are married to the person.” He corrects you gently, hands moving from tracing patterns on your skin to rest on your waist.

You shrug. “You never know. Could work like that. Who’s to say?” You tease him, voice playful before you yawn against his chest.

He shakes his head, moving down to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Go to sleep, moya lyubov'.”

Even if the fatigue wasn’t seeping into your bones, you wouldn’t be able to help but obey as you slowly fall into a peaceful slumber in your husband’s arms.

Translations (In Order):

Don't be scared, don't run, my child.

I prefer my meals to remain unharmed until I get my hands on them.

As a treat.

-my lovely little fucktoy?

#ama writes #fanfic #fanfiction #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice/reader #beetlejuice x reader #zhuk #zhuk shoggoth #mafia au #oc based on beetlejuice #zhuk/reader #zhuk x reader #zhuk shoggoth x reader #zhuk shoggoth/reader #reader fanfic #interactive fanfiction #smut #very nsft

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insomni-snacc · 5 years ago

Text

Starting Over Again

Past lives fluff? Past lives fluff.

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"Hey," you peek your head into Zhuk's study hesitantly. "Zhuk?"

"Come in." He gestures to you with one hand, not yet looking up from his book.

Slowly, you step into the room, holding a delicate diamond necklace in your hands. You're unsure what to say, and even less sure why it feels so important to you. Half of you wants to keep it forever, the other half wants to throw it in the roaring fire on the other side of the study. You settle for giving him a questioning look as you stand there silently.

Several moments of silence pass. Zhuk carefully places a bookmark in the worn leather tome and removes his reading glasses to look at you. He gives you his signature warm smile, but you can't miss the way his face falters when he sees what you're holding. You feel tears threaten to burst forth at any moment, but why?

"Oh, kiska, it's alright." The sight of his beloved close to tears is enough to pull him back from the dark recesses of his thoughts. "Come here, let me hold you."

You obey, you always have since the day you met. Something about him was so soothing to your soul, you could never quite place it. And so, you find yourself once again on his lap. "I don't understand," is all you manage to say behind your tears.

Large, rough hands tenderly brush through your hair. "You're just overwhelmed, it's going to be alright." He takes a deep breath, a remnant of a habit he no longer needs, and leans his face into the crook of your neck. His arms move from your head to wrap tightly around you. "It used to belong to you, it was only a matter of time til you found it."

"This… was mine?"

He nods against your neck, stubble tickling you pleasantly. "Are you religious, at all, kiska?"

That gives you pause. "No," you finally say, "but I suppose I believe there's something… significant about life. Like there's something especially precious about being alive that we don't understand.

"Clever girl," he grins. "You're right, life is precious. Like these diamonds, life takes new form through time and circumstance. They are both also extremely rare. How many lives do you think have existed in the world, through all time?"

"I don't even know where to begin, I--"

"Around forty million."

It wasn't a low number, by any means, but far lower than you ever suspected. "Why…? How do you know?"

"Because I cut one of them off, so did my colleagues." He sighed, gripping you tighter. "Four endless lives, cut short."

"Endless?"

"I will never reincarnate, unlike you. I will not grow old with you. I'll have to watch you die, again and again, for eternity. That is the price I paid."

You slide your hand up to cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, sighing contentedly. "I'm so sorry," you whisper.

"No need." You can feel his smile returning against your neck. "Do you know why, clever girl?"

You shake your head, not because you don't know, but because you want to hear him say it. His hands move from you, taking the necklace from your hands. His face lifts from its home in your shoulder, so he can delicately clasp the necklace behind you. The metal is cold on your neck, but you feel warm all over the moment it's on.

"Because you always come back, moya zhena."

#the conglomerate #beetlejuice x reader #kinda #zhuk

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realmonsterboyhours · 5 years ago

Note

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.

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justsassysworld · 5 years ago

Text

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

#beetlejuice mafia au #the conglomerate #Zhuk #zhuk x reader #five demons #sassy writes

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