@uponyou - Tumblr Blog

14h

Sup. Tail sex anon back again and right now I'm thinking about when Ginger gets all up close and is like, "Why do I smell guy on you, B?"

Scratching, biting, just going nuts so B smells like her again 😵‍💫😵‍💫 and if Ginger draws a little blood and licks it off her finger when she's done, that's her business.

hi again! :3

i love that deleted scene with all my <3

ginger can always tell when brigitte’s been around other people too long. their musk sticks to her, layering onto her body’s sweet-milk scent like a bad middle note. they can linger on her clothes, skin, and hair for hours.

ginger hates it when she leans in to smell brigitte’s familiar, comforting scent and gets a nose full of somebody else. she hates it more when she pinpoints exactly whose scent brigitte’s currently covered in. the answer is unnecessary because ginger’s already pieced it together. it isn’t just jason she’s picking up.

“you locked me up to see sam?!”

ginger smells the air around brigitte again. nose scrunching with disgust. she easily recognizes him because he has that skunk-like note in his sweat.

ginger flashes hot with unbridled rage. smelling him on brigitte. it sets something off. like an alarm bell. blaring and echoing inside of her. she’s nauseous. something in ginger needs to erase him now. fuck the dead guy in the room with them. they can deal with that later.

her skin prickles at the thought of sam near brigitte. him looking at her, wanting her, getting his filthy pheromones on her baby sister…

without missing another beat, ginger boxes brigitte in against the door. knee coming up between her legs to better secure her in place.

brigitte’s visibly trying to maintain a level of composure. for their sake. for ginger’s sake. she wants this pointless conflict to end so that she can refocus on pulling them both out of this mess alive and without charges. brigitte is too aware that time hasn’t graciously paused just for… whatever is happening here.

“ginger, we—” she tries.

“—i want him off.”

ginger leans closer, eliminating all space between them. hands curling tightly around each of brigitte's wrists, allowing no resistance. no room for movement. (not that brigitte could fight her off anyway.) brigitte clenches her teeth as ginger presses her cheek tightly to hers. brushing against her with little pushes of her face. cheekbone bruising against hers.

brigitte flinches when ginger’s tongue darts out. followed by a tiny, razor-sharp nip against the softness on her jaw. she soothes the sting with a quick kiss. ginger’s heart is racing. rage blending with excitement from finally getting to do this. she starts trailing her tongue against the length of B’s jaw again, towards her mouth. sliding it warm and wet over brigitte’s closed lips. brigitte opens her eyes for a second to see ginger’s unfocused, lost in sensation.

ginger’s spine curls in as she leans down further to nose at brigitte’s neck. one hand abandoning a wrist to yank aside the collar of B’s turtleneck sweater, baring clean skin.

brigitte’s scent is so concentrated here… it makes ginger dizzy with want. B finds herself tilting her head back against the door, telling herself it’s only to speed this up, to make things easier. the hot slick of her sister’s tongue paints a slow line from collarbone to ear. making brigitte shiver and jerk, legs instinctively snapping shut but failing, kept open by ginger’s knee. B’s breath is shallow, the sound of her little gasps shooting straight between ginger’s legs.

ginger presses her open mouth to B’s pulse point. feeling blood beating right under her lips beneath the thin surface of skin. she fights the urge to bite down. settling for kitten-licking a vein running down brigitte’s throat.

ginger’s so swept up, it takes her a while to realize she’s let go of brigitte’s other wrist to clutch at the back of a thigh. finding with pleasure that B’s not fighting at all. her little sister remarkably pliant. it’s as good as an invitation.

she descends, continuously rubbing herself against brigitte. like she’s scrubbing sam off. brigitte’s hands are clueless. they switch from grabbing at arms to shoulders and back again. now against her chest, ginger mouths at B’s small breasts over thick fabric. they both whine. it’s a lot and not enough. ginger drops to her knees, doesn’t waste valuable time, shoving the hemline of the sweater up with both hands. exposing the plane of B’s tummy.

brigitte doesn’t know what to do. she hopes everyone has left. so that no one can walk in and find her sister kneeling before her as mr. wayne lays torn up on his desk, in a pool of his own blood. she needs to end this… they have to move. but ginger’s scorching hands are trailing up her sides, lips kissing under her navel. brigitte’s belly trembles.

“g-inger, we gotta clean this up now…”

B starts wriggling. growing more anxious by the second. trying to free herself from ginger’s grasp. but it’s futile and ginger’s not satisfied yet. her claws dig into the flesh of her baby sister’s thigh and waist as she finds a better grip. dragging as she moves. brigitte hisses, lets out a tiny yelp of pain, eyes catching the beading of blood under ginger’s nails. ginger catches it too, immediately sweeping in to lick all of it away. B struggles to get a decent lungful of air. chest heaving, fingers balled into fists. eventually, she resorts to desperately tugging at ginger’s hair, but ginger can smell brigitte’s arousal, and she’s finding it impossible to turn away. the evidence sticky and warm between brigitte’s legs.

#didn’t mean to take four years to reply to this #sorry

uponyou

Jun 1