Lydia Davis

be kind

[brightymonster]

feel free the request any beetlejuice x reader

movie musical cartoon

just go to my profile and leave a question on the top

[hoodoo12]

Procreant

For some reason, Beetlejuice has a singled-minded goal. One you wouldn't have imagined.

NSFW, Beetlejuice/f!reader

Enjoy!

Beetlejuice inhaled sharply as he walked into the room.

Whatever. It didn’t faze you. Beetlejuice did random things all the time, so sucking in an exaggerated amount of air into non-working lungs barely registered on your radar. He plopped down heavily beside you on the couch, too close on purpose, just so you’d bounce and end up leaning against him.

“Babe. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you said, struggling and failing to win against broken down couch cushions. You gave up and just leaned into him, as he wanted.

The ghost--demon? He used both descriptors interchangeably and refused to define either one--narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he replied, although his demeanor didn’t change.

“Seriously, Beej. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he repeated.

His expression shifted a little, brows knitted not in confusion but with a touch of a glare. Before you could ask him again to he tell you what, exactly, he was talking about and explain why he gave you such a dirty look, he pushed up and off the couch. Less than a step away and he was gone. You sat alone on the couch in an awkward position, perplexed.

⁂

The next day Beetlejuice avoided you. Well, you weren’t sure he did it deliberately; before he’d grown attached to you he’d wander the place like a tom cat and occasionally, like a cat, slip through a crack and end up in a wall somewhere. He didn’t make an appearance to “help” while you made dinner. Typically, like last night, he joined you on the couch while you watched TV. Tonight, nada.

It was as bewildering tonight as it was twenty four hours ago. Since it had been a lazy day, you forwent your nightly shower before bed. Dropping your clothes, you reasoned you planned on washing the sheets the next day so they were dirty you wouldn’t make them any more dirty and even if you slept nude they wouldn’t make you any dirtier--

You interrupted your random train of thought with a yawn and were asleep before it got any more convoluted. 

When you opened your eyes again, in the sluggishness of being startled awake you had no idea what time it might be. It was still dark. Something had woken you up. You weren’t scared of monsters under the bed--having been around Beetlejuice desensitized you to lots of things--but a human intruder . . . that would be another beast entirely. Staying completely still, you strained your ears to listen for what might have disturbed you.

click-click-click-click

What the hell?

click-click-clickclickclickclick

You didn’t want to move, really, but turned your head to pinpoint the odd sound. Like a nightmare, a mass beside your bed on your bedroom floor shifted.

“Beetlejuice!” you hissed, “I don’t know what you’re doing, but knock it off!”

In your poor, dim-light vision, you could just make out that the mass folded inward a little. Not cowering, like it’d been caught, but more gathering itself like it was tensing for a leap. Its head lifted and you caught the faintest silver flash of eyes where there should be no reflection at all.

“Beetlejuice . . .” you repeated in warning.

clickclickclickclickclick

Before you could determine what specifically, other than him, was making that sound, Beetlejuice launched himself upward. He could be quite unnerving when he moved a little less than human. From all fours on the floor to pinning you down under your blankets, the movement had taken less time than a blink. He seemed to be shaking.

Struggling to give yourself some wiggle room, you sighed. “What the hell, Beej? What are you doing--”

He brought one hand to his face and breathed inward. The light clicking sound filled he air again. By this time your vision had adjusted enough that you could see better, even if it was in shades of grey. In his hand Beetlejuice had your discarded panties, the ones you’d dropped before crawling into bed. While you watched, he pressed them to his face and inhaled again. You could barely make out his expression, but now you could determine his jaw chattered, meaning his teeth made the unusual noise you heard. 

You repeated, “What are you doing--”

“No, what are you doing?!” he interrupted wildly.

Startled, you didn’t know what to reply.

Without no one reaching over to it, the light on your bedside table flicked on. Blinking to adapt your eyes to the sudden light, you watched Beetlejuice not only smell your panties again but lick them this time. His eyes rolled upward, something you’d seen him do during sex, and once more the clicking of his teeth filled the room.

“Beej,” you said quietly, “you’re worrying me . . .”

His eyes refocused and dropped to you. “Did you know? Did you do it on purpose? Was this a test?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about--”

“This!” he interrupted, waving your underwear towards you. The fabric was darker in the crotch; it became obvious he’d either licked them or sucked them prior to you seeing him do it. His normally dirt-choked voice ratcheted higher. “It was, wasn’t it! You didn’t take a shower, you left these right there so I would find them! Right?! You didn’t have to tease, baby, you just had to ask--I’m, I’m . . . fuck, I’m so ready--”

Managing to extract your arms from under the blankets, you reached upward towards him. You weren’t sure it was to protect yourself or to soothe him; the moment he saw your hands, however, Beetlejuice dropped his head into them.

“Baby, baby--please! This is so good, I need to make sure, okay? Okay? Let me--”

You had no idea what the hell he was talking about, or what you needed to “let him” do. His eagerness, his obvious delight was concerning but also, to be honest, a little infectious. Even at his most feral he’d never done anything to hurt you. You stroked the sides of his head.

“Okay . . . ?” you agreed tentatively.

His eyes lit up. He discarded your panties but not to the floor--you saw him shove them into his jacket’s pocket. Dropping his full weight down onto you, almost knocking the air out of you in an “oof!”, Beetlejuice kissed your open mouth but didn’t linger. His lips, slick with spit, slid over yours and immediately he began nosing both loudly and wetly over your cheek and down your neck. Somehow--you weren’t quite sure of the physics of it--he stripped away the blankets between the two of you while still atop you.

He began scooting down your body, eagerly snuffling at you. He made a pit stop at, well, your left armpit. That tickled. You spasmed as you laughed and couldn’t help but try to push him off; he was too solid to move. Inhaling deeply he licked under your arm, just as he’d done to your panties.Your laughter turned to shrieks and even more effort to make him stop.

With that reaction he finally continued downward.

Surprisingly, he didn’t pay much attention to your tits or nipples. Just a quick lick in passing. Just enough to make them tighten and you to start to arch your back in anticipation for more, but he moved on. You thought he left a trail of kisses where he’d been, but picking your head up to watch as he made his way to the junction of your legs, you realized it was just spit. Drool dripped unheeded from mouth, and occasionally he shoved his nose right a particularly thick smear of it. You couldn’t be completely sure, but you thought his jaw continued to chatter a little too.

When he finally settled between your thighs, his shoulders spreading them open before him, you reached down and slipped your fingers into the hair at his temple. Beetlejuice glanced up at you with a glazed look: his eyes and mouth open, another string of spit hanging from his lower lip. His face was comically expressive but you couldn’t pin a name on the way he looked up at you right this moment. 

Groaning, he dropped his mouth to your pussy.

The instant rush of sensations--the chill of his mouth, the soft prickle of his beard,the laving of his tongue through your folds like he was licking a plate clean--ignited your nerve-endings. One hand immediately went to his rats’ nest hair, taking a healthy grip of it, and when he found your clit and sucked it between his lips you almost jack-knifed in half as you cried out. Beetlejuice went hard at you. He’d always been eager and willing to eat you out like your pussy was his last meal, but this time it included rubbing his chin against you till you forced him to stop because it made your clit overly stimulated. It included snuffling and jamming his nose into your cunt, which  you’d have made a joke about that appendage simply not being good enough if you weren’t overwhelmed. It included the same thick, sloppy spit he’d plastered over your skin as he licked and sucked at you. What it did not include, surprisingly, were his fingers questing inside for your g-spot. That was okay, because in the shortest time ever from being awoken by a weird noise to Beetlejuice being weird to him shoving his entire face in your pussy, you involuntarily pulled at his hair and your thighs snapped shut around his head as you came. Your orgasm tackled you so quickly you couldn’t even cry out; all that managed to get passed your lips was a wheezy little whine. Every muscle tensed as a tsunami of pleasure washed over you before leaving you shaky and out of breath. You relaxed in spasming jerks, and if he hadn’t already been a ghost-demon you’d have definitely suffocated him. Death by pussy. He’d like that. When you finally managed to open your trembling legs again, Beetlejuice didn’t look up at you full of himself, all gleeful and gloating. In the soft light of your bedside lamp, the lower half of his face glistened from the smeared combination of your wet and his own saliva. His eyes remained dark and nowhere was the impish smile of a job done better than any breathing lover. He still looked ravenous. Like he’d only just whet his appetite. Only sharpened a hunger. He dropped his face back to your pussy and inhaled deeply once more. His eyes never left yours this time, watching for your reaction. Still trying to catch your breath, you were only able to give him a shaky smile. In another inhuman movement, Beetlejuice launched himself back up your body. The rough fabric of his suit didn’t chafe you; in fact, it disappeared completely, leaving him nude atop you. Laying on you heavily hip bones pressed uncomfortably into you, between them his erection pressed into the softness of your belly. His face inches from yours, the musky aroma of yourself washed over you. He licked his lips.

“Babe . . .” he groaned, his voice so deep it sounded like it’d been dug out from six feet under, “babe . . . I’m gonna fuck you so hard--I have to fuck you so hard--I’m gonna fill you up, you’re gonna be, you n' me, then you're gonna be . . .”

He dropped his face to your neck and went back to nuzzling you, complete with smelling your skin. You had to clear your throat before replying. The aroused wetness in your pussy must have dried you out everywhere else. “Going to be what, Beej?” Beetlejuice picked up his head again. Lips glossy from drool, the amber in his eyes eclipsed by pupils blown so wide his eyes were nothing but black pools, he swallowed before answering. “Gonna be knocked up. I’m gonna--it’s time now, baby, I can smell it. You’re ready, I’m ready--” His palatable desire and sincere desperation was the only thing holding back the laugh that threatened to spill from you. You couldn’t get pregnant by him! He was a ghost-demon-unalive-creature, and you were . . . the opposite of all those things. It could be a fun little fantasy, sure. You didn’t deny you were turned on and heat filled you at hearing him announce what he planned on doing to you. Damn biology. Damn hormones. 

Of course, the two of you had fucked like rabbits for a while now with no baby as a result. So whatever this new thing driving him was, you could go along with it. “--I’m gonna put a baby in you, all my come, all my jizz, I’m gonna--” he’d continued babbling. “Beej . . .?” “--fill you my come--huh? What, baby?”

You looked him straight in the eye. “You have to stick it in me to make that happen.”

He gaped like a fish for a second, processing the order before a wicked grin lifted the corners of his mouth. Broken out of his prattle, he whispered in a completely different, much more serious tone, “I didn’t finger you, baby, because I wanted to feel my cock to open you up.” That sent another bolt of arousal through you and you could only nod. Beetlejuice sat back on his knees. You spread your legs and lifted them, reaching between them for him. He dragged fingers through your folds one last time, sucked the taste of you off them as a group, then dropped his hand to his cock to give it a quick twist to wet it. Holding it at the base, he watched himself line up before letting gravity pull him back towards you. His cock opened you up all right. In a swift push he was flush inside you, pubic bone to pubic bone. You both cried out at the pleasurable friction and time stopped for a moment. Only a moment, however; before the nerve-endings stopped firing, Beetlejuice pushed both your legs further upward, to his shoulders, and pounded into you with ball slapping thrusts. An explosive grunt escaped him each time he bottomed out, and a thin whine accompanied when he pulled out. You grabbed at the headboard to steady yourself and prevent him from scooting you to the top of the bed. The two of you had had quick, heavy sex before; this was all that, on coke. You cried out too, matching his pitch. If he’d only given you another thrust or two, you’d have orgasmed again. As it were, however, Beetlejuice stopped abruptly and pulled out. “It’s not enough. Turn over,” he ordered. A new string of drool hung from his chin. He slapped the back of your thigh in an effort to hurry you along. You tried, but dazed from the cessation of pleasure he’d been building in you it took a moment to organize your limbs. It wasn’t fast enough for him. His cock glistening and bobbing in front of him, Beetlejuice grabbed your hips and bodily flipped you to your stomach. You’d have gotten onto your hands and knees if he’d given you half a second, but this modified doggy position seemed good enough for him. Squeezing in between your thighs, he pushed forward to once again slot his cock into the heat of your pussy. A different position, different but just as sweet pleasure. You clutched the sheets below you and continued to cry out with each thrust. Above you, Beetlejuice interspersed his groans with words, “baby, pregnant, fill you” and even once you thought you heard, “my mate, mine.” He’d always been possessive, but such covetous words spoken aloud . . . it may not be politically correct in this day and age, but in the heat of the moment it just felt right to be claimed and used. 

His thrusts shook your torso too, stimulating your nipples against the smooth fabric of the sheets below them. Your body couldn’t resist the growing euphoria. You came again, shouting your pleasure, your pussy clenching rhythmically even as he continued fucking you. Over your shoulder, he laughed. “That’s good baby, milk my cock, take all my come up in you--” Riding that high, you simply existed for a bit. You were sweaty, or was that more of his spit on your back? You didn’t know and it didn’t matter. In the next few moments, Beetlejuice’s rhythm faltered. He slammed into you, paused, then thrust again with the same intensity. The second time he couldn’t hold back any longer either, and howled as he came deep inside you. Usually his tepid come could be felt; this time your cunt was so well used and hot it seemed to simply absorb everything he gave you. After he shuddered through the aftereffects of his end, he collapsed on top of you. It was only then you realized you’d been drooling too, with your cheek now smashed into the bed. Bucking to get him off you, you groaned as his cock finally slipped out. “Lay on your back, baby,” Beetlejuice told you lazily. His release seemed to have sapped his feverish, single-minded breeding need out of him. You complied, but insisted on saying, “I’m only doing this because it’s more comfortable. Not because you told me to.” “Uh-huh,” he replied, barely lifting the arm he’d thrown over his eyes to look at you. “You want my baby, don’t deny it.” You rolled your eyes. “You want me to knock you up. You want me to fuck you till you’re pregnant. You want part of me growing in you.” If he hadn’t been acting so damn weird lately, you’d have turned that into a gross joke right back at him. As it were, however, you just let it go. You had been turned on by what he’d done to you tonight. Turning to your side so you could look at him, you scratched your fingernails down his chest. “What got into, Beej? I don’t understand.” Beetlejuice shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. You just smell . . . fertile. I couldn’t help but want to fuck you right now. Then. You know what I mean. In fact, if you wanna go again . . . the load might be a little smaller the second time, but I’ll still pump one into you . . .” “No, no, I’m good,” you assured him. You certainly didn’t feel fertile. Or any different than typical. Nothing that would explain him smelling a difference in you . . .

. . . except you were off your birth control pills. You’d stopped them a few weeks before because you’d been on antibiotics, and being on both was a waste of them because the other medication made them less effective anyway! Oh shit, you probably were more breedy at the moment! But that didn’t mean he could actually get you pregnant. Right? Right?!

You needed to worry about this. You needed to go and buy a pregnancy test--no, more like two or three, just to make sure!--and have horrendous spiraling anxious thoughts about the potential future-- --but Beetlejuice turned over too and wrapped you up in an embrace, snuggling close. He’d been sated. The brunt of whatever pheromone had affected him had eased. He wouldn’t understand your worry, since he thought everything was good in his world. And you were tired now too, since he’d woken you up before putting your body through a quick marathon of sex. You’d deal with everything tomorrow. “Turn out the light, Beej. And cover us up.” He complied immediately to both requests. Unbelievably, it was remarkably easy to settle into sleep with him holding you. 

fin

[brightymonster]

i do whatever i want 😏😏😏

[earthboundmongoose]

*REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST REPOST*

[brightymonster]

i’m gonna repost until i die or until he arrives 🫠

[brightymonster]

i do whatever i want 😏😏😏

[swimmingclassicrockpizzawombat]

IS THIS A PROMISE? BC IT BETTER BE SO I'M FUCKING REBLOGGING

[brightymonster]

sameeee

[brightymonster]

i do whatever i want 😏😏😏

[diaryofassortedimagines]

expect the unexpected, pt. 2-

beetlejuice x reader smut (and a dash of fluff)

you shifted slightly as the sunlight, bright in your eyes through your semi-sheer curtains, woke you. ducking down to hide your eyes in your pillow, you only found yourself nuzzled into something much colder, and even softer.

immediately, you were fully awake, eyes blown wide and a smile tugging at your lips. you prayed to whatever may be up there that when you lifted your head, your BJ would be the big chilly form that was pressed against you. that you weren’t imagining a bit more vividly than usual.

you lifted your head from his chest to find him smiling down at you, brightly. you couldn’t help but grin like a giddy little kid on christmas.

“oh, i knew it wasn’t a dream, beej!” you lifted yourself, putting your hands on either side of his face and using it as leverage, to pull him into an eager kiss. your morning breath mixed with his, well, dead guy breath. your lips were a little dry from the small amount of drool that had pooled on them. and it was the second best kiss of your life. you were on top of him, kissing him passionately—victoriously, and he was beneath you, trembling and doing his best to keep up with your pace. beads of sweat were building on his forehead, dampening the hairline of his bright pink and magenta swirled hair, and if he had the blood to blush, he would be cherry red and fiery hot. the tent built quickly in his pants, from the very moment you looked up at him that morning, in fact. like a little puppy. this is everything he’s wanted since day one. and yet, he was terrified, and he looked it, too. he was trembling and his muscles were tense and as motionless as they could be, despite doing all he could to return the kiss. his hands were still on your waist, but they stayed there, completely still.

“bee?” you pulled away from the kiss as the tension he felt became more and more noticeable, impossible to ignore. you’d never seen him this way. “you look… terrified?” he pursed his lips and dropped his eyelids, looking down between your two bodies.

“i guess… i guess i just find it all hard to believe.” you tilted your head and cocked an eyebrow, making it clear you didn’t understand. his shoulders and brows dropped at this, looking a little smug. “c’mon babes, you know what i mean.”

“i… i don’t, beej.” you laughed a little. “you can tell me, sweets.” you swiped his cheek with your thumb, face in the palm of your hands.

“you’re… holy moly, toots, you’re an angel. so kind, so funny, so damn beautiful, wholly and utterly exquisite.” he put dramatic theatrical emphasis on the last three words. “and then there’s me. dead demon ghost guy. kind of, maybe, a murderer for a little bit in my past, have been called on multiple occasions raggedy raccoon man, terrorizes people for fun, slightly addicted to crack cocaine—” you put a finger over his surprisingly smooth, pale lips.

“beetlejuice, listen to me.” you said, a little sternly and lifting his chin to make eye contact. “you’re my angel. that crack addict raccoon man is my own person angel. you’re the only one i want. and… as for the murders and frequent terrorizing… well, world could always use a little humbling, huh?” he chuckled a bit. he was pretty sure he could see you glowing with the sun behind you. he was pretty sure you were divine. “you’re a good being, laurence. your non-beating heart is still sweet deep down, and i want you, beej. i want all of you.” your rubbed his chest and fiddled with his suspenders suggestively.

“yeah but babe, that’s what i mean! look, you’re so kind, and considerate, and lovely and—” you quieted him with your lips on his.

“i’ll show you beej. i’ll prove it.” his hair was pink from root to tip, with only a few swirls of magenta left, and a little bit of blue. “will you let me do that?” he let out a short, breathless chuckle.

“y-yes, doll face. i… would love that.” he chewed his lip. “but what if—”

“oh, just shut up and take your clothes off, already.” slightly taken aback and thoroughly flustered, he took a few seconds to indulge the feeling of your lips on his neck, the scruff scratching and stimulating your lips, the damp of your tongue softening his skin, the beautiful pain of each hickey you left and the pure adoration he felt, before finally undressing himself with a quick wave of his hand.

you gasped as the hand that was on his clothed chest suddenly was against something much colder and quite harrier. you grinned and sat up, sitting comfortably on his lap. you stared down at your love with infatuation in your eyes.

“oh, sweetheart.” your hand gently wrapped around his neck before sliding over his body—to his shoulder and down to his chest, nails gently grazing one of his nipples as he whined louder than he expected to. your hand ran across the expanse of his stomach and down until it reached you, straddling his hips. your eyes ran all across his body, savoring every bit of him as you tried your best to burn the image into your memory.“you’re exactly how i imagined you.” to think that you imagined him, in the deep, private confines of your mind. he smiled sweetly, despite himself hardening even further (somehow) beneath you. you returned the smile as you lifted your own shirt above your head, wiggling out of the neckline. he whimpered at the sight of you, wordless. now he was sure you were glowing, that you were divine. you bent down above him on your hands and knees, kissing his neck briefly before running your lips down his body. a bite to his collarbone, a kiss and a light flick of your tongue on his nipples, and as you scooted down, a bold lick down his stomach. his body tasted similar to that of his lips, earthy and a little bit bloody, only his lips were a tad sweeter. your face was now just inches from his cock, and he ran his tongue across his lips as he awaited for your sweet lips to take him in. but alas, you didn’t. rather, you sat on your calfs at the very edge of the bed so that your face could kiss up his thighs, from the base to the jittery sensitive inner corners. his skin was on fire, and he couldn’t’ve asked for anything better. he couldn’t believe what was happening. the angel that fell for the demon. the angel that was on her knees before him, worshipping him and his body in all its glory. all he knew was that he loved the way your lips set him ablaze and that your words sent him into a frenzy. he was jittery and trembling a little. “just relax baby, okay?? i’m here.” you kissed just next to his cock and he whimpered with an affirmative nod.

as your lips finally crawled up his thighs to his cock, you flattened your tongue and licked a bold stripe up the base of him, leaving a light flick at his tip to lap up all the precum. his moan was uncontrolled and candid, and so so hot. your mouth engulfed his tip and your tongue circled it as you sucked.

“sit up a little more for me, baby.” immediately, he scurried up with his back to the headboard. you crawled closer to him and bent down so you could take him back in your mouth. he was huge, damn near intimidatingly so. you gave him a few light pumps and took his head in your mouth, your lips slowly taking in more and more of him, as far as you could before his tip was at the back of your throat. your hand pumped in sync with the bobbing of your mouth, your saliva drip down the base of him and soaking your hand. his moan was crazed.

“mmm—ugh, f-fuck baby girl, that’s so fucking good.” he squirmed, and couldn’t resist tangling his large hands in your hair. he used all the restraint he had not to fuck your mouth, worried you may not be able to take him all, but allowed himself to put a little bit of added pressure to your bobs. as your confidence grew, you took him in just a few centimeters more, now choking on him briefly before pulling back out a little for air. at this, his whole body tensed, and he let out a groan from deep in his chest through gritted teeth. you figured this meant he was close, so you sped up your movements and sucked just a little harder than you had been, as much as you could this time. you felt his body jerk and his hips accidentally push up into your throat, gagging you a tad before falling back down and cumming in your mouth. you hummed in delight as you swallowed it all up, trying your best not to lose a single drop. he tasted mostly salty, earthy and a little bit of something rotten.

you crawled back up, your face parallel to his again, and left an opened mouth kiss on his lips. he whimpered.

“feeling any better? a little more adored like you are?” he nodded, breathless and nonvocal. you smiled, but it soon turned to an opened mouth look of ecstasy as his cold, large fingers dipped into your folds and circled your clit.

“fuck, beej. oh my g-god.” you purred in his ear. “oh, someone certainly knows how to use his hands…” you panted as you rolled your hips, gliding with more pressure on his two fingers.

“oh, honey, you haven’t even seen what my tongue can do yet.” he let out a cocky laugh, and as egotistical as it was, you were delighted to see that he’d gotten his confidence back. that he felt loved again.

“well, you’re not gonna keep me in suspense, are you?” you smirked devilishly.

“yknow what??” he tapped a finger on his chin. “yeah, i think i will keep you in suspense, doll face.” he pulled his fingers away from you and licked your juices off of them before wiping them on his side. “just to see you beg.” you blinked and jittered your head a little in surprise.

“oh, beej, i am not begging.”

“well, then, i guess you’ll never find out.” you knew exactly what he was doing, as it was something you’d do yourself. naturally, though, you had a solution to your own problem.

“fine then. i’ll hold off from touching you as long as you can me.” you smirked as your hand moved down your body, finger tracing down your center mesmerizingly before reaching your core, dragging a finger across your folds. he gulped heavily, his adam’s apple bobbing intensely as he watched your fingers dive between your lips and play with yourself, deep into your folds and circling your clit. you threw your head back and played with one of your breasts with your free hand, riding you fingers as sensually as possible to egg him on, draw him in just to realize he can’t have you, and finally crack him. you could see the ‘oh fuck’ moment in his eyes as your two fingers delve inside of you and you bit your lip, looking him right in the eyes before they rolled back into your head.

“for fucks sake toots, fine.” he grumbled as he took your hand out of you himself and yanked you by your hips above his face. you fell forward a little, hands gripping the headboard and thighs holding onto his head to avoid falling from the pressure. the view from his eyes, body tilted forward, holding onto the headboard, boobs on full display for him to see from below, and the feeling of your thighs clenching his head, your juices practically dripping with arousal onto his lips, long nails bruising your hips. it was a moment he wanted to never leave. one he could happily to stay in forever. he lowered you into an awkward position, but supporting your body comfortably, close enough to reach his tongue out and lick up the length of your folds teasingly. you whimpered and squeezed the headboard, your thighs clenching his scruffy haired face, tingling your core and scratching delightfully as you rode the tongue delved deep into your folds. he alternated between laps, sucks, flicks, and kitten like licks. he sure as hell knew what he was doing.

“holy f-fuck beej. god, you’re so good. so, so good, baby.” your back arched abnormally and your hand clenched his knotty hair to support your body from buckling as the monstrously long muscle delve inside of you, fucking your tightness with his tongue. “oh, you’re… just—” you couldn’t speak through your moans as you rode his mouth and tugged his hair. he mumbled incoherent praises between licks and moans that vibrated against your most sensitive bundle of nerves. your whole body was in pleasure and a little hint of delightful pain, shaking above him as the knot in your stomach tied tighter and tighter. “oh, beej, i’m s-so fucking close. god, you’re gonna make me—” his top lip grazed your clit and the knot in your stomach unraveled against his face, into his mouth, onto his tongue. your moans took over any words of praise you would have said to him as he lapped up every bit of sweetness you gave him.

your body slowly relaxed as his grip on your hips loosened and he eased you off of his face and backwards to straddle his chest. you panted for a moment and leant forward to kiss his lips, tasting your own juices off of his scruffy beard.

“dirty little thing.” he laughed. “don’t you taste sweet, babes?” he purred, and you nodded as you crawled backwards onto his hips. he closed his eyes and panted, getting comfortable into the pillows. you leaned forward and supported yourself with your elbows on his chest. he smiled down at and caressed your waist.

“you… you didn’t think we were done yet, did you?” you grinned devilishly before it turned into a look of shock as he flipped you over and beneath him. you let out a soft, quick moan andfelt as though you were in heaven, euphoria rushing through your body as your dreams finally became a reality. you’ve imagined this moment since the day you met him daily—his thick thighs in between yours and spreading your legs, large arms, perfect for holding you, on either side of his head and his cold stomach pressed to yours. you gripped his chin and pulled him down to kiss you.

“i have dreamt of this moment since i laid eyes on you.” his magenta hair had rushes of pink shoot around it.

‘ditto.’ he thought, but was too speechless to respond. you were getting a tiny bit impatient.

“so, ‘babes’, are you gonna fuck me or not?” he chuckled through a moan and slid into you with ease. you both gasped as his head stretched you out.

“oh my days, toots, you’re so fucking tight.” he moaned, and it almost sounded more like a question than a statement.

“c-can you go slowly, please…?” his heart warmed and he nodded into the crook of his neck. “you… you can move.” he slowly pushed into you and you clawed at his back, pulling him down to kiss his neck and mask a moan with a bite on his shoulder. you took a few deep, whimpering breaths and before you knew it, he was deep inside you.

“god, babes, your pussy was made for me.”

‘you were made for me.’ he said in his head.

you clenched around him and he groaned into your ear. the air was caught in your throat, so you bucked your hips up into him. you moaned in unison, and his quick reaction was to fuck down into you

“oh my god, beej. you… you—” you couldn’t get the words out, your brain melting as his cock drilled into you at a deafening speed.

“such a whore for my cock, aren’t you toots? my little slut” you nodded while he moaned into your ear and nuzzled his head not your neck, his disheveled hair grazing your face, as your nails broke the skin of his back. a few drops of blood dripped down his shoulders and he smiled into you, loving the way the pain from you felt.

“oh, sweetheart, i-i’m gonna cum again.” you choked out.

“m-me too, toots. you feel so fucking good.” he cried, and as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him into you as he came, a wave of obsession and love washed over him. “oh, i-i love you sugar—” he stopped dead, and threw a hand over his mouth. “i-i’m sorry i didn’t mean to say tha—” you beamed. those words felt like a trophy to you.

“i love you too.” all he could do was smile, a tear tugging at his eyes. as he came to his senses, he realized you hadn’t cum yet, and returned to pounding you into the mattress and rubbing your clit furiously. “f-fuck! god, b-beej, i’m gonna—gonna cum so hard.” you yelped as you came on his cock, staring him directly in the eyes. he would die to see you do that again, staring him down as your essence engulfed him. he pulled out of you with a groan, already missing the feeling of your pussy around him, collapsed beside you and snaked an arm under your head as you turned your numb body and nuzzled into his bare, soft chest. you stayed there for a few moments in the afterglow.

“did… you mean it?” he whispered into your hair. “do you love me?” a tear fell and dampened your scalp.

“completely, beej.” you kissed his collarbone. “i meant every word.” he whimpered.

“but will you still love me when the dopamine wears off?” he was barely audible, and his quiet voice almost sounded soft. you looked up into his tear filled eyes.

“i’ll love you forever, laurence”

end

WHOOH i quite liked that one :’) hope all you beej whores enjoyed.

[brightymonster]

i’m going on every show of the musical Beetlejuice

since like 2019 i work a lot save a lot

and my plans is now watch every show until

the last one maaaan

i was in the show 16th poor kid

like don’t scream at children

ik it’s Beetlejuice but still alex not fucking okay

i LOVE the musical and beej ofc

[brightymonster]

The kid he picked for sad puppet show was right behind us (over our left shoulder). We overheard the family talking before it the show and the kid had never seen it before. His mom had to answer for him because he Alex terrified him mute (the kid was 10, for christ's sake). Alex could def see how uncomfortable the kid was because he crouched down to stare him directly in the eye and shouted, "YOUR PARENTS HAVE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE BRINGING YOU HERE", which only scared the kid more.

this is not fucking okay!!!!!

i’m sorry but don’t bring kids to the show

but seriously it’s not okay to do that

i know he’s supposed to be scary

but still wth

[hoodoo12]

Dec 16th show

This show was the last I'll see till closing night, which I am lucky enough to be able to go to. Is lucky the right word? Shouldn't it be heart-breaking or something? idk

It has been nice to be able to have seen the show a few times, because I pick up new things each time. I don't mean that a lot in the show has changed, but because I familiar with it I'm not hyper-focused on the "action" of the scene and can watch the secondary actors on the stage. I feel like I saw a lot more of the individual clones during TBS, and of course I watched Elliott a little more. (Okay, a lot more, lol)

Dana Steingold was Lydia. She did an excellent job of navigating all of Lydia's emotions, instead of having just one overwhelm the nuance of the character.

Notes from show:

Alex wore a plain white shirt for several of the numbers. But not all of them (TBS, for example). I don't understand why.

Alex mocked my laughter at one point (after 'gay republican'), copying it before going to the next line.

The kid he picked for sad puppet show was right behind us (over our left shoulder). We overheard the family talking before it the show and the kid had never seen it before. His mom had to answer for him because he Alex terrified him mute (the kid was 10, for christ's sake). Alex could def see how uncomfortable the kid was because he crouched down to stare him directly in the eye and shouted, "YOUR PARENTS HAVE MADE A HUGE MISTAKE BRINGING YOU HERE", which only scared the kid more.

During his Katherine Hepburn speech, he pretended to be her down on all fours like they were going to screw doggy style.

During FoTL when David suggests, "act like a baby" Alex says, "What the shit is wrong with you?" and now that's my new favorite line.

Alex fumbled for "Brigadoon". He said, "I know my name is on the marquis, but you'll have to watch a new show. The Maitlands," and then stood there for a moment too long, gestured to them again for more time/effect before finally coming up with the line. The person with me thought since he couldn't remember the word he'd just finish with, " . . . the Maitlands. I'm out of here" and then "Yeah, I'm out of here. Fuck me, I guess" instead of "fuck Brigadoon."

Alex screwed up his mic during SMN. He went a little extra (more on that later) when he pulled back his wig to showcase the maggot brain, which messed it up. He repeatedly had to tap it/adjust it during the song to get it working correctly again. This is the second time I've seen that happen to him; it was pointed out that maybe I'm the common denominator when it stops working correctly . . .

Adam Dannheisser almost lost it when Leslie said "prostitution?" responding to his, "you're my employee and my lover" line. He had to take several moments to compose himself to not laugh. He did it though! Good job!

The guy Alex picked on as "that guy" was wearing a suit. The last time he addressed him, he added, "You got all dressed up tonight and got ROASTED." Pause for laughter. "Thanks for coming."

The guy sitting by me was INTO the show. Like leaning forward to laugh and shaking enough during it he rocked the seats.

The two kids (mid-teens) next to us were NOT into it. I don't know why their mom paid for front row seats for kids who didn't give a shit and who, during "Home", pulled out their phones to check their IG or Tiktok or whatever.

Maybe this is something everyone else was aware of, but the knees on his red suit are completely patched. Like his overcoat and the striped suit, they have these big stitches which I had never seen before. That whole suit looked a little more ratty to me than I remember it.

During COG when he and David swing each other over to stage right, Alex got some serious air. He was literally parallel to the ground (my companion pointed out after the show that I gasped, lol) so David must be gdamn strong to lift Alex like that.

Alex also made not one, not two, but three attempts to kiss David at stage right + made a grab at his crotch. Two of those things David was either not expecting or he's just a really excellent actor. It could be both.

Juno's leg skittered across the floor and almost fell into the pit, which I would have paid extra money to see because what the heck would they do??

Going back to "Alex being extra" . . . during intermission the person I was with was like, "What the hell? Why is he exhausting himself? Did you see? His make up is sliding off his face he's so sweaty and I've never seen him go so ham. This is Beetlejuice, not Alex."

She was genuinely concerned for him. Honestly, me too. He exuded more of a frenetic energy which, while appropriate for the character, was so much for so long the miasma of it hung in the air. Maybe he's just giving his all because the show is closing in 3 weeks. idk But with flu, COVID, and RSV also floating around, I hope he doesn't overstress his immune system so he can close the show out.

[brightymonster]

OMG i hope the kid is okay poor child😟

also when i hear alex talking like beetlejuice

without makeup it’s weird

because it’s like disney magic thingy

when people don’t say the actors name

and only the character

also i was there omg

i felt bad for the kid

also when i see alex in beej makeup

dressed up talking normal voice

it’s weird like i can’t explain

[batxmasisrjuice]

Good old fashioned wedding

[brightymonster]

omg i want the video it’s my fav song

[alderaanplacesss]

Out here in the abyss collecting the very limited Justin!juice content out there. I’m convinced he’s going to wow us all. Just give it time!

[alderaanplacesss]

Gotta add this adorable one!

[brightymonster]

best duo 😍😍😍😍😍😍

[nnobodiusart]

It's Showtime~! 💀⚰️🪲

[beetlethot]

Quick reminder

No matter what you look like

No matter your gender

No matter your size

No matter what parts of you you're insecure about

Beetlejuice wants to fuck you

[musical-shit-show]

my apologies. prompt list 1, #4 please, beetlejuice!!

don’t want you like a best friend

Pairing: Beetlejuice x Reader

Inspiration: Prompt #4 (“i really want to kiss you right now” “do it then”) from Prompt List 1.

Warnings: alcohol mention, reader is tipsy, fluff, suggestive dialogue

Word Count: 1,173

Author’s Note: So so so sorry this took so long! I’ve been crazy busy with work and the show that I’m in, but I finally finished this ask! Thanks anon for the suggestion! And if you’d like to request anything from either of my Prompt Lists, please send me an ask and check out my Masterlist and About Me page! Enjoy :)

“Beej, I have to go now. You know how I hate being late.”

The demon huffed at your completely reasonable statement. You were finally able to coordinate a night out with your friends, and the live-in ghost who had plagued your existence over the past few months was clearly not pleased.

At first, you were utterly bewildered by Beetlejuice. You have no idea how he ended up in your apartment, though he kept muttering something about being a ‘bio-exorcist’, which sounded far too fantastical for you to fully comprehend.

Once he realized his efforts to scare you out of your dwelling was fruitless, Beetlejuice took no time at all making himself at home. In a way, he was like a housecat: he purred, he slept wherever he wanted, he pushed over breakable objects for attention.  

And he wanted nothing more than to be around you all the time.

Which, to him, started out as nothing but another activity to fill his endless existence. If he couldn’t scare you to death, annoying you to death was certainly an acceptable option, right?

“But baaaaabe,” he whined, floating above you as you fished out the keys from your purse, “What am I supposed to do while you’re gone? Not a ton of options for a dead guy, ya know.”

He was lying, of course. There were plenty of hijinks a demon of his nature could get up to on a Friday night, but he wanted you to feel bad for him. His incessant flirting didn’t faze you either, much to the ghost’s dismay.

He had a kind of crush on you, which wasn’t at all surprising. Beetlejuice had developed a penchant for breathers over the years, and you had grown to be one of his favorites. Which made your departure for the evening even more gutting.

“I don’t know,” you answered his rhetorical question, exasperated as you slung your purse over your shoulder, “But I have no doubt you’ll find some way to entertain yourself.”

The demon’s hair turned a deep shade of violet, not masking his sadness at the prospect of you enjoying a night out without him. You noticed immediately and frowned.

“It’ll only be a couple hours, bug,” you hoped the pet name would soften the blow, “I promise.” Beetlejuice grumbled and *popped* out of the room. You sighed, accepting his poutiness. Maybe you’d be able to make it up to him later.

***

When you got home, your ghostly roommate was nowhere to be found. Despite only having a few drinks, your head was throbbing. You flopped onto the couch and contemplated turning on the TV, but you couldn’t muster the willpower to try and find the remote.

You looked around a few times, when suddenly you saw it rising slowing, surrounded by a sickly lime glow. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as it floated towards you.

“Beetlejuice!” you knew using his full name would irritate him, and you were right. He materialized seconds later, his hair back to its signature shade of green. You oddly couldn’t have been happier to see him.

“Hey, babes, easy on the ‘B’ word, okay?” he said as he immediately got comfortable on your couch, “If I went away, who’d be here to entertain ya?” You let out another giggle, your last drink making you feel equal parts bold and bubbly.

“Well, I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” you retorted, finally grabbing the remote out of the air and placing it on your coffee table.

“So…” he drawled, his voice sounding particularly gravelly, “You have a good time tonight?” You couldn’t help but sigh, your headache finally wearing off. Instinctively, you let your head rest on Beetlejuice’s shoulder. You had become nose blind to the smell of dirt and decay that constantly permeated from his suit jacket.

“Yeah, I mean, it was nice seeing everyone,” you said, suddenly feeling warm, “I didn’t really have much to contribute though; you know, they were all talking about weddings and babies and gossip and I was just…there. Listening.”

He nodded, not sure how to respond. Beetlejuice had been dead for so long that he couldn’t remember the mundane moments of his life. He watched your ups and downs and in betweens and sometimes, for a second, he could recall what it was like to be human. Maybe that’s why he stuck around.

“Honestly,” you said, swallowing bravely as you raised your head to meet his eye, “all I could think about was coming home. To you.” Of course, this got the demon’s attention. All he could muster was a surprised “Oh?”, his eyebrows raised in shock and amusement.

You had never rendered Beetlejuice speechless before, so you decided to continue.

“Yeah,” you said, “And I swear, I’m only a little bit tipsy so don’t think I don’t mean this, because I do. But I really want to kiss you right now.”

The demon couldn’t help but flash a knowing smirk.

“Do it then.”

And you did. And it was sweet and soft and not at all what you expected. It took a little liquid courage, but as soon as your lips met his, it felt like a switch flipped inside your brain. You had no idea this had been what you’d been searching for.  

After a moment, Beetlejuice deepened the kiss, and you felt a pit form in your stomach. You knew how he was; you didn’t want this to be just a random hookup. Being a notch it a demon’s bedpost wasn’t exactly on your bucket list.

Before you could form a coherent thought, you hadn’t even realized that he had wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to his ridiculously tattered suit. You couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Wait,” you said, your head spinning again, “I don’t—I can’t let this be a one-night thing, Beej. I like you. A lot. I think I’ve just be too stupid to see it until now so, if you don’t want that, we can just pretend like this never happened.”

Pink had started to sprout at the roots of his hair, and he still had a big grin plastered on his face, “Babes, are you serious?” he asked incredulously, “I’ve wanted to be with ya since the first week I started crashing here. I think you’re hot stuff.”

You could feel yourself turn red as you kissed him again, elated, “Plus,” he drawled, “How great will it be to tell your friends the next time you see them that your boyfriend is a demon.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll love that.”

“Make sure to let them know I give great head.”

“Beej!” you hit him playfully, blush now creeping up your neck as he peppered kisses along your clavicle.

“Just so ya know, all you have to do is just ask, sweetheart,” he looked up at you, his eyes now fiery with hunger as he scanned you up and down, “And in that outfit, you won’t have to ask twice.”

***

thanks for reading! please like/reblog/comment if you enjoyed this!

[batxmasisrjuice]

Captured his character dead on 💚

[musical-shit-show]

Hello! Is it possible for you to write Prompt list 1, #48. “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”?? for Beetlejuice? 👉👈

Also, would it be okay to use these prompt lists for my own writing??

i think there’s been a glitch

Pairing: Beetlejuice x Reader

Inspiration: Prompt #48 (“we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”) from Prompt List #1

Warnings: cursing, suggestive dialogue, beej is kinda a dick, general demon horniness, reader is kinda a dumbass, aggressive flirting

Word Count: 1,871

Author’s Note: So sorry this took so long, anon! I’ve been super busy over the past few weeks with the show that I’m currently in. I wanted to have this done by Halloween, but a week late isn’t too bad, right? Still not totally comfortable with NSFW writing, but I think I just need some practice on some ~slightly spicy~ prompts to get me in the groove. Anyways, sorry for rambling and I hope you enjoy! Here are links to my Masterlist, Prompt Lists, and About Me page. And if you'd also like to submit a request, the link can be found here!

And to answer your question, OF COURSE you can use the prompt lists! They’re for anyone and everyone to use for their own writing!

Enjoy!

You were a master of repressing your feelings. It was a special skill that you had developed over the course of your life, shielding you from the kind of heartbreak that stained pillows with mascara laced tears. When you looked back at your smattering of relationships, you felt next to nothing.

Then he showed up.

You should’ve known better. You were just doing research, delving into another one of your hyperfixations. This month, it was failed attempts at summoning the supernatural. You started to find bits and pieces about him after hours of searching on the internet, and you couldn’t help yourself. Surely, it was all in good fun, right? Unfortunately for you, nothing could’ve possibly prepared you for what was to come.

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!”

You heard your voice echo, terrified and excited as the full moon illuminated your living room at midnight. You had left your window open, a soft summer breeze permeating through your home. Despite the warm air, you felt an unmistakable chill down your spine.

Before you could even form a thought, a pair of bright amber eyes materialized inches from your own. Fear radiated through your body, and you knew whatever this thing was could smell it. Suddenly, a low growl emitted from its mouth.

“Well, well,” you had to assume this was a man’s voice, though it sounded like his vocal cords had been torn to shreds, “what do we have here?” You took a step backwards, the backs of your legs hitting your overstuffed couch. You cursed yourself for placing so many candles around for ambiance; it was a housefire just waiting to happen, especially with this maniac in your immediate viicnity.

As he took a step towards you, his features became more discernable in the moonlight. Vibrantly green coiffed hair, pallid skin, perhaps the tackiest suit you had ever seen partially concealed underneath a tattered trench coat. And a sickening smile that instantly made the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

“I-I’m sorry I was just—” you started to stutter, but you were cut off by the man’s grimy finger pressing itself to your lips. It took everything in you not to gag from the faint smell of decay.

“Baby, I don’t care what you were doing,” he purred, “You set me free. And I just know we’re gonna have all kinds of fun together.” You couldn’t begin to imagine what he meant by that, but you could tell that you were in for a world of trouble just by the way his eyes glinted ferally.

For the next few months, the strange man did nothing but torment you; every day you were plagued by him appearing from nowhere to scare you, possessing unsuspecting neighbors and postal workers, and using his otherworldly powers to levitate precious family heirlooms before promptly smashing them to the ground.

Through a game of increasingly irritating charades, you learned that his name was, in fact, Beetlejuice. And he was a demon. Or a ghost. Or an Eldritch horror, depending on his mood. What he was most of the time was a pain in your ass.

Even so, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. He balanced his destructive nature with charm and wit, and eventually you found yourself entertaining the more mundane aspects of having a demon for a housemate.

Of course, you didn’t linger on those bewildering feelings for more than a few seconds at a time. Feelings like that could be dangerous.

Before you knew it, it was Halloween, and you were headed out to meet some friends and a guy you had been casually seeing. You hadn’t dared told Beetlejuice, let alone brought anyone over to the house. The very thought made a pit form in your stomach.

He could tell something was up with you. As you got ready, the demon noticed you were being particularly careful about the application of your makeup, the placement of your dark red lipstick. You rarely cared about your appearance, but now you were applying eyeliner with a surgeon’s precision.

“What are ya getting all dressed up for, toots?” he said, hovering a few inches above your head, the ratty tie he never took off dangling freely. You shrugged.

“It’s Halloween,” you said innocently, fluttering your eyelashes as you applied mascara. Beetlejuice let out a small scoff. The concept of Halloween didn’t excite him. Why reserve scaring the shit out of breathers for one night when you could do it every day of the year?

You stood up from your vanity, and examined yourself in the mirror. You decided to be a vampire; basic, but no one would care. Plus, the fishnets and plunging neckline of your velvet black dress made you feel more confident than you had in months. The prosthetic fangs you had molded to your incisors tied the whole costume together.

It was Beetlejuice who looked like he wanted to take a bite out of you. He’d never seen you so sure of yourself; for months, you usually collapsed into your shell around him, and he had to admit that he was impatiently waiting for you to show your true colors. And it was obvious that he liked what he saw.

“Wow, babes, you look smokin’!” he said, impulsively hoisting you into the air. You yelped in surprise, but started giggling as soon as you got your bearings. The demon always found a way of making you laugh, even when you were tired or sad or sick of his bullshit He knew how to put a smile on your face when the very notion seemed impossible.

“Beej, put me down!” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck for stability. You didn’t mind the physical touch, but something about the way he was holding you felt different. Like he’d rather die again than release his grip and let you walk out that door.

His smile waned somewhat, and you noticed immediately. “I just mean, um, I do have to get going soon.”

“Do you though?”

You blinked.

“Yes, I do,” you replied, and you gestured to the floor. Beetlejuice reluctantly plopped your feet onto the floor, and his followed seconds later, “I didn’t get ready just for my own enjoyment, that’s for sure.”

Despite having no functioning circulatory system, Beetlejuice could still feel his blood boil. “Right,” he blurted, “Just for your boyfriend’s enjoyment, then?”

 A tense silence filled the room as you stared at him, shocked. How could he possibly have known you were seeing someone? “Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle, sweetheart,” he continued, his tone laced with venom, “Only a girl planning on getting laid tonight looks like that.” He eyed you up and down again hungrily, and your mind flashed to the first night you summoned him.

And suddenly, for a moment, you were just as frightened as you were that first night.

And then that moment passed.

“First of all, how I dress is my choice, and has nothing to do with anyone else,” you said, backing him into the wall nearest to your bed, “Second, he’s not my boyfriend, not by any stretch of the imagination. But he’s also none of your goddamn business.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me, huh?” he shot back, red tendrils starting to appear at his scalp, “Got something to hide from the big mean demon squatter?”

“This is why I didn’t tell you, Beej,” you pointed to his flaming locks, “Because I knew you’d freak out. I don’t even get why, anyways. We’re just friends.”

The last statement made the ghoul freeze, and you watched as a vicious grin spread across his face. Any and all confidence that you had while standing up for yourself had shriveled and died an unbelievably quick death. Beetlejuice spurred towards you, and was only inches from your face in an instant.

“Oh babes,” he was talking to you as if you had just failed the world’s easiest math test, “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

Silence filled the room yet again as your scattered thoughts fought to form a response.

You didn’t know what to make of your relationship with Beetlejuice. Yes, he had a penchant for wreaking havoc on your day to day, but it was rarely with true malice; nothing like how he was acting in that very moment. It was strange, but over the past few weeks, you could’ve sworn he was almost being…sweet.

When he wasn’t hurling your good dinner plates across the living room, that is.

And as much as you refused to admit it, there was a part of you that knew you were hiding how you really felt. From yourself, and from him. And it pissed you off to no end that he finally called you on your bullshit.

Beetlejuice tilted his head, his eyes trailing down to your lips, your cleavage, and then back up to meet your gaze, “Cat got your tongue, dollface?” you felt his arm wrap around your waist, and you let out a yelp of surprise, “Or are you too stubborn to admit I’m right?”

You were pressed up against him now and despite how handsy he got, you still struggled with his lack of body heat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Beetlejuice.”

He instantly winced at the sound of his full name. Two more times in a row and he’d be gone. You toyed with the idea for a brief second, but the demon just shook his head.

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he growled, “Lying doesn’t look good on you.” You felt your heart racing in your chest as your defenses began to crumble. You were usually an impenetrable wall, and you cursed yourself for letting your emotions slip through the cracks the moment he appeared.

“Look, I’ll make you a deal,” he continued, splaying his hand across the small of your back, “You can forget that other schmuck and have fun with me tonight. And just to sweeten the deal, I’ll let you keep your costume on. For a little while, anyways.”  

You felt that unmistakable pit forming in your stomach. But this time, it wasn’t out of fear, or even anger really. It was from excitement. And lust. And for the first time in ages, you decided to stop stifling your emotions.

And just like that, the dam burst.

You threw yourself at him, unable to control your impulse as your lips collided with his. You could feel his smirk through the kiss. ‘Fucking assshole’, you thought indignantly, your teeth clacking harshly against his.

This was months of pent-up rage, aggression, annoyance, and passion coalescing in one spontaneous moment. And it was fucking perfect.

Shockingly, Beetlejuice pulled away, loosening his grip on you minimally. He ran his tongue across his teeth, a smug smile dancing on his lips. “Thanks for proving me right,” he quipped, his hair now shifting from red to magenta, “Still sure you wanna go out?”

“Shut up,” you breathed, “and get on the bed.” The demon’s eyebrows shot up immediately, an elated smile still on his face.

“Whatever you say, baby,” he replied, “But that costume isn’t staying on for much longer.”

------------

Thanks for reading! Please like/comment/reblog <3

[batxmasisrjuice]

Some DC goodness (part 1)

What was the punchline to this?? ⤴️

Damn....the people who got to see this version... I envy them!

I know it was to expand their audience, but like the more bastard version of this character too - with the added raunchiness 😈

I personally would've liked to see Alex keep the gross teeth.. I mean, he's dead... and a demon lol. But c'mon, he still pretty!💚

Entire DC audio here

Part 2 here

[batxmasisrjuice]

MOAR TEEEEETH!

special thanks to @beetlebitties Twitter for sharing these

[hoodoo12]

(De)Flower

@batxmasisrjuice ,who is a delightful person all around and I wish we lived closer so we could hang out, made a generous donation to Mr Alex Brightman for the Arthritis Foundation's Jingle Bell Run. She gets a story! You could too if you want; you have today to make a donation! Dm me the receipt and I'll write one for you. It can be personalized, it can be any character, it can be private (like others have asked for), it can be whatever! Just support a good cause!

NSFW, Beetlejuice x f!reader, losin' that virginity!

The constant barrage of innuendos, suggestions, and cartoon noises like honking or that stupid “A-OOOOga” sound first made you embarrassed. Then they were annoying. Then, one time when he surprised you with a particularly well timed hip thrust at something innocuous, you laughed. Your laughter startled him, but he couldn’t help grinning like the cat that got the cream. The breakthrough laughter made all of Beetlejuice’s poor attempts at flirting and seduction much more bearable. You even started calling his cheesy one liners “bad pick up lines”, which of course only encouraged him. By the time you felt comfortable enough with all of it to shoot back a “that’s what she said” after he said something completely normal, the two of you fell over each other laughing at the stupidity of it all. 

Then one night while you were simultaneously watching TV and your phone, the specter wandered in from the kitchen--you didn’t have the energy to wonder what he was doing in there--and out of the blue he said, “Hey babe. My crotch has been feeling extra dead lately. Wanna do some mouth to mouth on it?” “Okay. Sure.” Your response surprised him. You too, honestly, because you actually weren’t kidding.

“Ha ha,” Beetlejuice said, literally enunciating the fake laughter. “You got me.”

“No,” you replied, because for the first time the idea didn’t disgust you but actually aroused you a little, “I’m not.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment. “Ha ha,” Beetlejuice repeated, although this time it was strained. You cocked an eyebrow at him, a smile beginning to lift the corners of your lips. “Ha ha.” Now the two syllables had a touch of hysteria in them. “Beetlejuice,” you said, shifting on the couch to make room for him and to squeeze your thighs together, “come here. Sit down with me.” “Oh. Uh . . . geeze. I don’t know, babe, I, uh, got a . . . cake in the oven? A-and--” he stuttered, looking over his shoulder like looking for an escape route. 

“You do have some cake. I think I’d like a bite.” Pointedly you dropped your gaze to his middle, even if his ass wasn’t in view at this particular moment. 

Beetlejuice stared blankly at you for a moment, before a grin crept over his face. It wasn’t hungry or smug. In fact, you’d call it almost shy. The unexpectedness of him looking a little soft made your arousal flare a little; you patted the cushion beside you in invitation again. This time he walked forward as if his knees were locked, almost stumbling a little. “Bet your legs aren’t the only thing that’s stiff,” you said, and this time he couldn’t even choke out his ridiculous laugh. Finally standing in front of you, you reached up and fiddled with the row of buttons under his tie while you looked up at him. His chest rose and fell exactly as if he could breathe, like he was turned on too. His tongue, startling pink against the pallor of his lips, ran over them before disappearing again as he stared at your hands. A thought you’d only entertained to yourself, deep in the night, broke through the surface of your mind: “Would his mouth taste of wormwood?”

Without warning, you stood up. He didn’t step back to give you room, so you pressed solidly against the front of him. Your fingers slipped through the placket of his shirt and lightly rested against his skin. Now face to face, lips inches apart, you had the overwhelming urge to lick your own lips. “Babe, h-hey now--” He stuttered out your name. It was rare he used it, and that only made you want him more. “Yes?” you purred as you tilted your head for a better angle. “I, uh, uh, I--” His sentence never even had a chance to finish. You pressed your mouth against his and he lost capacity for speech. Truthfully, so did you.

It was awkward and fumbling, as first kisses tended to be. Beetlejuice didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands and it took him a moment to finally rest them on your hips, while your grip tightened in the fabric of his shirt. Your tongue slipped passed the seal of his lips and he groaned; everything escalated.

You pushed against him. He pushed against you. His tongue followed your lead and shoved into your mouth so quickly you had to take a breath, but once you were used to the invading feeling of it you returned the favor. It felt like more hands held your waist, and now there was one at the nape of your neck? A thin whining filled the air; it took you several moments to realize it came from him. Breathlessly, sightlessly, you worked the small chipped buttons of his shirt, trying to open it. Suddenly you were too hot. Your clothing was constricting, so you could only imagine how Beetlejuice’s trousers felt! You chuckled at your own thought as you finished all but the top button, under his tie. Your hands less occupied, you took his waist and physically spun him on his heel before pushing him down to the vacated couch. Not expecting that move, Beetlejuice dropped flat on his back. You pounced, straddling his legs. His jacket and shirt now open--although the striped shirt was still tethered at his neck and pinned in place by his suspenders--showcasing the pale expanse of his belly, you drew two fingers down it. Amusingly, the sparse hair scattered on him seemed to have taken on a pinkish hue. You giggled. Reaching the button on his pants, you made swift work of it before pausing to finally rid yourself of your shirt. And then bra, because those sucked in the best of times. Below you, Beetlejuice’s eyes comically widened to a bulge and once again, he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. They remained at his sides, trembling. “Oh come on. I know you’ve spied on me in the shower,” you chided, pushing your tits together to create cleavage. His mouth agape and his eyes glued to your nipples, he gave a ghost of a nod. Leaning forward over him, you dipped lower as if to kiss him again. Your lips close to his, you whispered, “You’re drooling.” Then you sat back up. Beetlejuice swiped his jacketed forearm over his lower face, never once taking his eyes off you. You weren’t even sure if he’d blinked recently. His zipper caught, so you had to look down to undo it the rest of the way. It came as no surprise to you that he wore nothing under his striped pants. Unkempt and decidedly mossy green, his pubic hair cushioned his erection. A dark spot in the fabric of his trousers showed where pre-come had been absorbed, but a new bead formed at the head while you watched. You realized the specter under you stopped making any noise. Glancing back up at his face, you were surprised to see that his eyes were closed and he was biting his lip so hard you’d have expected to see blood welling around his teeth. If he wasn’t, you know. Dead.

“Beej?” you asked quietly. 

He shook his head. “You okay?” He nodded, shook his head, and shrugged in the epitome of a non-answer.

“Beej . . .” Now unsure of what the heck was happening, you stopped. “I want you!” he blurted. “Oh god, I fucking want you so bad! But, but--” Your eyebrows raised while you gently stroked his stomach, you couldn’t wait to hear what the finale of that broken sentence could be. But ghosts and breathers can’t have sex? That ghosts and breathers make demon babies? That his dick had been chomped off by a shark and what you were seeing was a pricey, high-end Netherworld hologram? 

“--butIdon’tknowwhatI’mdoing,” Beetlejuice slurred. You couldn’t decipher that last part. “What?” He flinched. “I . . . I . . . don’t know what I’m doing.” Confused, you could only repeat, “What?”

He flinched again, and this time curled into himself a little, his eyes squeezed shut so hard wrinkles formed at his temples.. “I don’t know . . . anything. I have a general idea, I’ve seen enough people . . . doing it . . . but I. I just . . .” Hanging his head even more, he whispered, “I’ve never actually. You know. Done it. I . . . I’m a virgin.”

For a second you were stunned silent. A laugh tapped the back of your teeth, but luckily you were able to keep it in check. The way he hunched and his ashamed tone exuded pure embarrassment. As hard as it was to believe, he was telling the truth. “Oh!” you replied, a little too brightly, overcompensating for your surprise. “Oh. I’m sorry! We don’t have to do anything, I shouldn’t have been so aggressive--” Beetlejuice’s eyes shot open. 

“No, no--I want to!” he interrupted, almost desperately. “Please, you turn me on so much, I wanna, oh shit, I wanna do . . . all that! I just don’t know how, exactly, and I’m sorry, I’m so dumb, it’s so stupid--” You’d sort through the Ghost with the Most being a stone-cold virgin later. Right now, if he wanted, you were more than ready to go. It excited you, a little, that for all his blustery dirty talk he was inexperienced and you were going to be the one to pop his cherry. “Stop that,” you ordered, refusing to let him continue to put himself down. “Let’s do this thing.” You dropped your voice to mimic his trademark rasp, to try and get him to laugh. 

Instead, he just looked worried. “Are you sure you want to?” 

“Yes!” “Okay, then . . . how about . . .  I’ll do all the work. You can just lay back and enjoy it.” The worried expression on his face didn’t abate. You vowed to yourself to go slowly, no matter how excited you actually were now that this was happening. 

Standing back up, you shimmied out of your pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Leaning back over the specter who seemed frozen in place on your couch, you kissed him lightly, intending to strip him too. He didn’t seem to understand this was just a quick peck on the lips, however; he surged upward, straining from his core to keep in contact with your mouth. 

Laughing at his eagerness, you pushed him back down. Turning to midsection and legs, you unbuttoned his suspenders, took his waistband, and told him to lift his ass so you could get his pants off. He complied. Tugging the striped fabric down his legs, managing to turn them inside out as you did, you realized in your own eagerness he still had his boots on, stopping the whole process. Silently you wondered if you could just leave him hobbled around the ankles--

Snapping his fingers, everything below his waist disappeared. “You could have done that all along?!” “Uh-huh,” he agreed sheepishly. “But you seemed so determined and-and . . . I liked watching you.” “You’re such a creeper.” “A leopard doesn’t change its spots.” Narrowing your eyes, you only hummed in semi-agreement. At least he admitted he was a creep. His cock had paid attention too, still erect and now drooling over itself. The shine on it matched the shine on Beej’s lower lip. 

His eyes had grown dark in the light from the TV, and his chest rose and fell more quickly again. Tentatively, he reached for you. 

Carefully, you took up position over his thighs again. Now nothing separated you but air. Beetlejuice’s tremble had returned, and you found yourself shaking a little, too. His gaze took you in like a starving man offered a feast. One hand went to your knee, then the other, and his eyes were locked on the juncture of your thighs. “The first time should be something special,” you mused aloud. “Like, soft and easy. Just getting used to it, you know?” You dragged your fingernails down his chest, flicking the loose straps of his suspenders out of the way. You should have stripped him naked, but there was something exciting about just leaving him half-clothed while you were completely nude on top of  him. “I, uh--yeah,” he agreed breathlessly, still staring at your crotch, “but, uh . . . mostly . . .” “Mostly what?” “Mostly I just w-want to . . . fuck.” His voice cracked at the last word. His eyes darted up to yours, and he looked almost embarrassed he’d been so crude. You couldn’t help but laugh; he was nothing but inappropriate at the best of times and now that it was real he couldn’t handle it?

“Okay, you got it, Beetlejuice.”The use of his full name made him shudder deliciously below you. Licking your hand, you ran the spit through your pussy, then repeated it to lube his cock. He jumped and moaned at your touch. The sound didn’t abate as you held him in position so you could sink down onto him. No true foreplay meant a little extra stretch as he entered you, and you moaned too. Instead of dropping directly to the cradle of his pelvis you stroked lightly, up then down, getting a little deeper with each cycle. His hands on your knees tightened until the flesh around each finger was white but you continued until he was seated fully inside you. Panting, you paused. “Can’t say you’re a virgin anymore, Beej. How’s that?” Keening wordlessly with an obvious effort not to move, Beetlejuice could barely crank open his eyes to look at you. “It’s-it’s, oh my god--it’s so . . . fucking . . . good--!” “Uh-huh,” you agreed, and rocked just a little for some of that sweet friction. His eyes widened. “Oh shit, oh my god--that’s--it’s too much, I’m gonna--” Knowing exactly what he meant but being well versed enough that him getting off quickly didn’t mean that funtime was over, you rose up even higher and dropped back down with a little more intent. He keened. You did it again. He began an open-mouthed, undulating moan. You did it again, and again, adding a swift circular motion with your hips just for variety. Unexpectedly the specter under you bucked so hard you were almost unseated; you were suddenly glad he still had his shirt and jacket on as you grabbed them for stability. 

Beetlejuice had been drooling before; now he actively spit whenever he tried to force a word out. He writhed below you. At one point, when you leaned forward to adjust position, he licked your chin. Mistaking it for an attempt to kiss, you tried to return it but his jaw was too loose.

In under two minutes, Beetlejuice squeezed your knees so tightly they ached, arched under your weight, and wailed. 

Pausing, working for breath, you let him have his time during his climax. You did keep moving a little though, because it just felt good. 

When he was finally able to focus his eyes on you again, you smiled down at him. “I’m a fucking loser,” he croaked out, like his throat was dry. “You’re fucking, at least. Let’s hold out judgement on the loser thing.” He hung his head. “I . . . you . . . you didn’t get off. I think? I don’t really know, I couldn’t really tell . . .” “I didn’t.” He flinched, even more ashamed. “Hey. Hey! Listen,” you said. “That’s okay! First time, it’s not uncommon. You’ll get more stamina.” “I think . . .” Beetlejuice paused to consider something. “I think maybe . . .” His voice trailed off. “You think what?” you coaxed. “ . . . I think we should practice a lot more. Build up my stamina, you know?” Lightly you slapped his chest. “Come on, babe. Maybe I’ll need a sec to be able to do it again, but what can I do for you? Get you one of those fancy cinnamon dolce lattes you like so much? Or maybe, just maybe-- He took a moment to wipe around his mouth, as if removing any residual drool.  

“--maybe you’d like to go for a mustache ride?”

There was the Beetlejuice you knew. Shrieking with laughter, you slapped him again and told him you would like one of those fancy cinnamon dolce lattes, thank you very much and then the two of you could talk about additional physical activities. 

fin!