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Incubus!Beej getting super protective/possessive after another incubus attempts to seek out the reader? (Maybe potentially claiming/feeding on the reader in front of them to really drive the point home?)

*rubs hands together and chuckles* oho i’ve missed writing this fucker

You were in utter shock. Complete disbelief. You had begged for weeks for Beetlejuice to actually take you somewhere, to romance you a little bit, to treat you like a lover and not just a bootycall. Finally, he caved. He took you to a bar. It wasn’t the nicest place in town, but it was quiet enough and the drinks were reasonable. And the second you were alone, walking up to the bar for a fresh round of drinks, someone had approached you. Not just someone. Another demon. You could sense it, knew it as well as you knew his intentions, and you just could not believe it. What were the fucking odds that as soon as you convince your demon to let you out of the house, another demon would try to cut in on his territory?

“Good evening, sweet thing.”

You answered with a tight smile and curt nod, not wishing to engage him, but it seemed as if he wouldn’t be discouraged. “And what brings such a delicious little morsel like you out on a night like this?”

You bit back a disgusted sigh, then turned to give him an impatient look. “Just getting a drink for me and my...boyfriend.” You paused on the word, because it felt like such a paltry descriptor for what Beej was to you. Of course, the interloper mistook your pause as the sudden fabrication of a lie, and he grinned.

“Boyfriend, hm? Oh little one, you don’t need to lie, and you don’t need to be afraid. I’ll take very good care of you.”

“Excuse me?”

Your nose wrinkled in outrage, your hand clenching into a fist, but before you could give this creep a piece of your mind, a head of flaming red hair blocked your view, stepping between the two of you. Relief flooded through you as Beetlejuice wrapped an arm possessively around your waist.

“I think its time I got you home, snack cake, don’t you?” His voice was deceptively even, but the red of his hair pulsed and flickered, and his fingers dug into your hip; he was practically giving off smoke, he was so angry. You nodded, pressing closer to him, and he quickly whisked you out of the bar and into the street. Once the night air hit you both, he snarled, the sound feral and sudden, and whirled to tug you into the alley beside the bar, pressing you up against the brick.

“Who does that arrogant little fucking prick think he is, putting the moves on my feeder?” He growled, already tearing at your clothes, teeth hard and sharp at your throat. “Must be fresh, hasn’t even grown into his horns yet. Didn’t even bother to scent you first. Maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I didn’t mark you up enough, didn’t make my scent strong enough.” His claws bit into your skin as he grasped your hips, lifting you against the rough brick and pushing into you without even bothering to check if you were ready for him. “We’ll fix that now. Everyone needs to know you’re mine.”

One hand pinned both your wrists above your head, the other fisted in your hair to keep your head pulled back, baring your throat to him as he covered as much of your skin as he could in dark, violent marks. “If he’s still in there,” he rasped, dragging his tongue over your collarbones, “he can definitely smell you. He can smell how turned on I make you, how good I make you feel.” You moaned, your legs lifting to wrap around his waist, and that fanged grin gleamed in the thin slice of streetlamp light that reached into the alley; now, you noticed, his hair had faded from furious scarlet to deep magenta, the signature color of his lust. “You like that, babe? You like knowing he can smell us out here, that he knows he can’t have you, that you’re mine?” His hips slammed up into you, surely leaving bruises on your skin as he fucked you into the wall. You bucked, thrashed, your body alight with pleasure as hungry as wildfire, consuming you, spreading through your entire form until--

“Come for me. Come for me and say that you’re mine.”

“I-I’m yours, Beej! Oh f-fuck!” Your orgasm was ripped from you almost cruelly, the rutting of his hips and the demanding grasp of his hands tearing your pleasure out of you, as if it were owed him. You screamed, you couldn’t help it, pain and pleasure a chaotic symphony in your blood as he followed, his seed surprisingly warm inside of you. With a low groan, he leaned into you, his head resting in the crook of your shoulder, a soft purr resonating in his chest.

“That’s right,” he crooned, pressing a kiss to the deepest, darkest bruise on your throat. “You’re mine, snack cake. My precious little pet breather.” Sighing at the hopeless shreds of your clothes, he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped you in it, his arm around your waist to support your trembling legs. “Let’s get you home, doll. I’m still hungry.” Your stomach fluttered, heat pulsing low in your belly as you swore beneath your breath, his knowing chuckle lingering in the air as he brought you both back to your home with a snap of his fingers. By the time the sun rose, he had made absolutely certain that you had forgotten that anyone else but him existed, your body a roadmap of bruises and bites to prove it. And oh, you wore his marks so well, his sweet little feeder, so delicious and loyal, and all for him. Always for him.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #incubus!beej #aah i've missed this guy #him angery