#‘where’s adam?’ ‘is adam ok?’ ‘please let me see adam i have to see adam i need to help him’

[zer0point5ive]

‘lawrence didn’t go back for adam’ ok did you ever consider lawrence asking for adam any time he was lucid while he was being kept in john kramers hospital from hell ? after cutting his own foot off ? and john refusing to let lawrence see him ? or just refusing to acknowledge adam full stop ? and lawrence not being able to do anything ? not being able do anything but lie there and wait for whatever comes next and

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[helluvapoison]

Kisses

leaving kiss a mark on adam, lute and lucifer

ʕ•��͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• He meets this weird in between where he doesn’t get makeup and will complain about it sometimes

• (People are looking at you, if you wanted his attention you have it now, you don’t need it, blah blah blah)

• But he also loves seeing you wear it

• Secretly, he revels in the way people stare because you’re his!

• At his concerts, Adam needs a kiss on the cheek right before he hops on stage. It completes the look he’s reaching for and acts as his good luck charm

• Outside of that, you don’t let him near your lips because you know he just wants to mess it up!

• “C’mon baby, it’s all I want in the whole world!”

• “Sucks to be you then because there’s absolutely no chance in—!”

• You hold the brush end of a broom at Adam as he makes a grab at you, laughing so hard he doubles over

• “You’re too easy, babe! Quit overreacting, I just want a little smooch before I head out.”

• “Oh no, I don’t think so! You throw a tantrum when everyone looks at me. Don’t you think they’ll be staring when you have a giant kiss mark on your lips?”

• “Who said it had to be the lips?”

• You raise the broom over your head in warning

˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• It’s comical how cautious she gets around you when you wear lipstick

• One would think you’re carrying a weapon around, what with the way she keeps you at arms length

• PDA disgusts her. Technically, sure, it doesn’t count but the gist of it sets Lute on edge

• She can’t remember if that’s Heaven’s doing or her own, but she would be mortified if someone caught her with even a hint of lipstick on her face

• She would love a kiss goodbye but doesn’t trust your devious mind

• “I have to go!”

• “Then go!” You laugh, hopping over the couch to continue chasing her

• Lute screeches with laughter when you get too close for comfort, “Don’t you dare!”

• You wouldn’t, you just like teasing her

• You hold up your hands to placate her, tilting your head to the side so she can plant a kiss on your cheek instead

• “You better believe you’re getting a big kiss right there when you get back.” You say, deadly serious, tapping her cheek

• Lute wouldn’t have it any other way

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• There’s nothing he wants more than for you to have a constant claim on him

• A touch of you somehow, someway, somewhere on him ignites a visceral reaction

• Lipstick marks are no acception

• In fact they’re possibly the worst thing you could do to Lucifer if he had something that needed to get done that day

• One on his cheek— oh but now you have to make the other one even!

• Could you plop one on his forehead? How about his nose? Chin? Lips?

• Lucifer will stare at himself in the mirror, admiring your work with a dazed expression and a heavy blush

• He wants pictures too! Lots of selfies, please and thank you

• You thought I was joking? No, the rest of the day goes by like this

• “Waitwaitwait!” “You missed a spot!” “I need one more picture!”

• He crosses his arm and pouts as you wipe his face clean

• You’re careful not to wear lipstick if you know he has to go out because you can’t not give him a kiss goodbye, that would be ludacris!

• Lucifer checks to see if you’re wearing any too but for the opposite reason, disappointment evident on his face

• “Later,” You promise, pressing your lips to his temple and effectively melting away his dismay

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ 🐌 my friend! i personally don’t think these characters would be able to get away with having kiss marks on them in public but i didn’t want you to be dissapointed!! :(( i hope this is ok!!! xoxo

[hazbinwhoree]

Ok SOO THE NEW EPISODE JUST CAME OUT RIGHT, I was wondering if you could do a part 3 of the Adam x sinner fic where the sinner finds him in the aftermath of the fight and brings him back to their place. And like yk how sir p was redeemed, what if Adam comes back as a demon‼️ u write Adam so well, thx💜 

Adam’s Sinner

Part 3/3

A/N: “Adam is dead” Nuh uh.

When Adam had told her about his plan to attack the Hazbin Hotel, (Name) had told him it was a dangerous idea.

As he lay dying, Adam realized she’d been right. He was alone now, his exorcists having flown back to Heaven and Lucifer and his bitch daughter and her friends had left him to go take stock of the damage the fight had caused. Until suddenly, he wasn’t alone.

(Name)’s face appeared in his line of sight. For a moment he thought he was hallucinating, but he could never imagine the scream of pure agony she let out.

“Adam,” she sobbed, pulling his head into her lap and placing a gentle hand on his cheek. Adam closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen you without your mask,” (Name) realized through her tears. Adam smiled weakly. “Like what you see, babe?” He coughed up blood and (Name) cried harder.

“You can’t die, you can’t, please Adam, please,” she rambled through tears. “I think my fate is sealed. I’m sorry. I love you.” He closed his eyes and completely stilled, his chest no longer rising and falling. “NO!” (Name) screamed. “ADAM!”

She shook him gently but he was gone. Through heavy sobs, (Name) gently put his head back on the ground and threw herself across his body. She lay there crying for a few minutes before kissing Adam’s forehead and rising to her feet.

Adam’s body disappeared in a flash of gold before her eyes. At least she wouldn’t have to bury him.

With a heavy heart and tears still flowing, she made her way back to her apartment. When she opened the door, someone was standing in the middle of the living room.

“Welcome home, sugar tits, did you miss me?”

Adam had two spiral horns protruding from his hair on the top of his head, his wings were black, and he had a tail, but it was Adam. Without a second thought, (Name) rushed him, throwing herself into his arms.

“You’re here,” she cried. “You’re alive!”

“Reincarnated as a demon,” Adam agreed.

“Thank fuck,” (Name) sobbed into his chest. He smiled, holding her tightly. When (Name) pulled back, she looked up at Adam with an indiscernible look. “What?” he asked.

“Your face,” she said softly, reaching up to hold it. Adam melted at her touch. “Your real face. My handsome boy.” Adam blushed. “Shut up.”

(Name) just smiled. Adam leaned down to press his lips to hers. Her lips tasted salty from tears. She ran her fingers through his hair while they kissed.

“I love you,” she breathed when they pulled apart.

“I love you too.”

Adam lifted her up so they were face to face and reconnected their lips. (Name) kissed desperately, like Adam may disappear at any moment. When they finally pulled apart again, they rested their foreheads against one another.

“You’re here,” she whispered. “I’m here,” he confirmed. “Now we can see each other every damn day. Hope you don’t get sick of me.” (Name) hadn’t even thought about that. She laughed happily. “I could never.”

So it turned out that while Adam had reincarnated as his least favorite species, the pros heavily outweigh the cons.

He was happy.

[turvi]

Yo what about just sittin on Rodrick’s lap as he discusses stuff with the band

Thanks for the request

Rodrick munched on the snacks that he stole borrowed from Greg's secret stash that he shared with his friends as they lounged on the living room couch, Evanescence playing on his tv.

His friend Adam mumbled. "Rodrick, will we get famous like that?" Rodrick looked up at the tv as he finally got time free from munching snacks.

"Adam, I can see it. In 10 years, people will fly from all over the world just to see us perform. We will do actual world tours." His friends looked at him, smiling as he continued.

Rodrick stood on his couch. "We will tour South America, Europe, and Asia." His friends cheered, but a particular cheer caught his attention. He turned around to see his girl Y/n clapping for him. He leapt over the couch, picked her up without effort, and twirled her around. "And you, my sweet girl, will manage our band."

Y/n put her hand on her chest. "It will be an honour, rockstar."

Rodrick couldn't help but blush. He loved it when Y/n would take pride in his music and would talk about it with her friends. He thanked his lucky stars that he found her.

"You got real quiet there. What are you thinking?" Y/n whispered as she fixed his hair.

"I am so lucky that you love me. You have always supported me, always been so kind to me. Although you can get annoying when I don't shower." He cupped her face, dodging her fingers as she tried to tickle him.

"Come on, sit with me, doll. Watch as history happens." Rodrick tugged her to where he was sitting with his friends. They all greeted her with a smile and went back to suggesting titles for their songs. He smirked when she sat on his lap, pecking her cheek as he started discussing song titles with his friends.

................................................................................

Y/n suddenly woke up and realised it had got dark outside. She looked around and realised she was still sitting on Rodrick's lap. She looked up and smiled as her heart was filled with love as she saw him sleeping peacefully.

She started to get up, but Rodrick's grip on her waist tightened. Y/n pinched his nose as a smirk spread on his lips. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Greg is at Rowley's home, and Mom and Dad have taken Manny to Grandma's home. It's just you and me at home right now," he smirked as he wrapped her arms around her waist.

"What are you planning?" Y/n asked as the back of her finger brushed his cheek.

"Just stay with me. We don't have to do anything. I just want to hold you." His chocolate-brown eyes looked at her, pleading for her to stay.

Y/n nodded. "Ok. I'll stay, and you can rant about Greg all you want."

She felt like she fell more in love with him as his face lightened up and he held her closer to him. Y/n heard him taking a deep breath as she laid her head on his chest.

She looked up at him. "Is something bothering you?"

Rodrick's eyes widened. It always took him by surprise how she always took him by surprise how she would know how he really felt. He sighed, trying to find the correct words to say.

"I made pretty big promises in front of my friends. But what if we don't fulfil those promises."

Y/n realised he was getting insecure. "Now, it's not just your dream to do a world tour, Rodrick. It's your goal. It's one of your biggest goals. Take one step at a time. Do your shows locally, get a professional manager, and keep working on your music...there are so many things to do, Rodrick, and you have just started. So please don't give up." she kissed him as she held his hand, letting him know she was there for him.

Rodrick broke the kiss. He needed to see her, to take her beauty in. "I don't deserve you." He breathlessly mumbled against her lips before kissing her again. "I love you so much." he peppered kisses all over her face. He had to let her know how much he loved her.

"And I love you too, rockstar." Y/n kissed him back as a promise to be with him through thick and thin.

A/N: I know I am late sorry. I got busy anyways I hope you like it. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

[fangirlfrom-hell]

How Many Detectives Are Needed To Sleep A Baby? || Jay Halstead x reader!

Cute and fluffy Jay, wife and baby + babysitter detectives

*re-posting this because I'm stupid and accidentaly delated my blog 🫠

Summary: Intelligence unit takes care of Jay's newborn baby while he and his wife are in court. Turns out it is the most difficult case they have worked on.

-"You can't go in there". Platt muttered in a scolding tone to Adam, who wanted to go into the coffee room.

-"Why not?" He asked strangely.

-"Shhhhhh". Kim gave him a punch on his arm. -"Keep it quiet, you're gonna wake her up".

-"Ok, alright". Ruzek kept his voice low. -"What the hell is going on, girls?"

-"Halstead's baby is sleeping in there. Don't you dare to interrupt her sweet dreams, bro". Kevin said from his desk.

-"Look at her. You can see her smile even from here". Hailey said, peeking through the window.

Trudy and Kim followed her.

-"She's so lucky she didn't get her father's mad face". The Sergeant enquired.

-"What do you think she's dreaming about? She looks so peaceful".

-"What's going on? Where's Jay? Where's her mom? What is she doing here all alone?" Adam was losing it, increasing his voice volume once more.

-"She's not alone. We're taking care of her!". Hailey frowned.

-"Adam, please". Voigh silently got out of his office and rushed towards him whispering. -"Would you keep it down? I can hear your voice even with my door closed. Let the baby rest, she's only weeks old and already has seen too much".

The detective opened his arms in a defeated gesture. He had just arrived and didn't understand anything.

-"Y/N is testifying right now, we couldn't avoid it. She and her colleagues published the investigation under their names, so...I couldn't stop it. Jay is by her side. The baby is here for protection".

-"She really is a hell of a journalist". Upton mentioned with admiration.

-"And a very brave woman. We owe her a lot in this case". Hank stated.

-"You know? You would have known about this if you had arrived in time to work". Burgess teases Adam.

-"Is there any news about the trial?" Platt wanted to know, worried about you.

-"Not yet, but Jay said he'll be in touch". The boss stated. -"You know these trials take time".

They weren't conscious about it, but the whole Intelligence squad looked hilarious talking with whispers and walking in tiptoes as they went back to their workplaces.

Time passed and the girl was still sleeping safe and sound, until Adam decided to stand up to stretch a bit and stumbled with some cables on the floor. Naturally, the clatter woke up the little baby.

-"It had to be you, right?" Kim mocked her husband as she helped him stand up.

Hailey and Kevin ran to the coffee room as if they were running a race. It was him who got there first and held the baby girl.

-"There, there. Uncle Kev is right here". He tried to reassure her. -"I had siblings and took care of them when they were babies. I can manage another one".

But after a few minutes, she was still uncontrollable.

-"Ok, it's my turn". Burgess got into the game and took the baby off his partner's arms. -"I'm the only mom here, the only one who has a real daughter. I know how to do it".

-"What are you talking about?" Trudy Platt laughed. -"Makayla was already a grown up when you adopted her!" And she grabbed the baby to accommodate her in her chest. But the crying did not stop.

-"Oh, no. What are they doing to you, sweetie?" Upton grabbed her and laid her in her arms. -"I am her godmother, she knows me better".

The baby Halstead slowed down her crying, but she was still restless.

-"Well, how many detectives do you need to sleep a baby, hum? You don't know anything". Hank Voight gasped. -"Give her to me, I'll show you all". But as soon as she was in the arms of the boss, her crying increased. -"Oh. I've lost touch!"

Jay and Y/N were already at the bullpen, waiting in the stairs. They got in time to witness the fluffy scene.

-"Hey, guys? She's not a rag doll, you know?" Jay said laughing at the scene and his friends turned around with surprise. -"She just needs her daddy's arms''. He took his daughter to stroke her and almost immediately she calmed down.

-"That's not fair". Platt crossed her arms.

-"We brought you coffee". You smiled, leaving the box you were carrying on one of the desks. -"There's not enough caffeine when you take care of a newborn. There's one for each of you, just as each of you like it. Look for your name in the tags".

-"Geez, thanks!" Adam said gladly and balanced the table. -"I was denied entrance to the coffee room the whole morning".

-"I'm sorry". You turned red.

-"Don't listen to him". A chorus of detectives said.

-"She's really calm, it was no problem". Kevin asserted and everyone else agreed.

You approached your husband and as soon as you were in your daughter's sight, the baby started to smile and giggle, throwing little kicks into the air.

-"What? Why are you laughing so much, baby?" You raised your hands and freed Jay's arms. -"Come with mommy, sweetie".

Everyone stared at the scene with tenderness, especially Kim, whose eyes started watering.

-"You wanna hold her?"

She just nodded and took the opportunity.

-"How was the trial? Are you alright?" Platt inquiered.

-"Yeah, I mean it was really scary, but I think it went fine". Y/N hands started to shake a little bit, but she was fast enough to hide them in her pockets. Nobody noticed, except for Jay.

-"She did a great job". He hugged you by the waist, trying to secretly ease you.

-"I have no doubt about it, she already showed us how much of a badass she is". Hank smirked.

-"I will just be more comfortable if you stay in here at least until the Jury deliberates, or as soon as I can go home with you. It's just a precaution, I'm not being paranoid or something".

-"Yes, I agree". Voight followed the idea.

-"Sure. Whatever you think is better".

The baby yawned and stretched herself so adorably, that she caught everyone's attention again.

-"I should put her down to sleep".

-"Alright. Take my seat, Y/N. We don't know how much we're staying here". Jay pointed out.

-"C'me on, Kim. Give the baby back to her mommy".

-"If you need help with the baby or you get bored of these people around, I'll be downstairs". The desk Sergeant winked at you and you smiled back at her back.

-"She won't be bored. She has me here". Hailey pulled a face.

-"I'll take provisions just in case the little one takes the coffee room again". Ruzek rushed to the kitchen.

Everyone else rolled their eyes in a funny way.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers. 

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge. 

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him. 

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full. 

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear. 

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking. 

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[kat-thepoet]

Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett x Fem!reader

Part 4: Under the surface

A/N: Hello guys! I hope you guys are enjoying these chapters! Don't forget to like and follow for more. Okay Byeee 🩵

Previous Chapters ☞ HERE ☜

4.5k words

As I looked at Adam, I quickly passed by him, not wanting to deal with him. He followed me outside, where Logan and Wade were standing. He held onto one of my shoulders to turn me around, and I punched him in the nose. " How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone?!" I yelled at him, feeling fury in my fists. "Please Violet! You never let me explain what truly happened." he yelled, trying to get me to listen. Wade and Logan came to my defense. 

"Didn't I tell you to stay away from her?" Logan said it with a serious tone. 

"Look at who we have here." Said Wade as he uncrossed his hands. 

"If it isn't the dumb fuck who cheated on my best friend," said Wade, grabbing one of his guns and pointing it at his head.

" I don't want any trouble," said Adam, trying to control his breathing. 

"leave now. I never want to see you again." I said, trying not to cry.

"But Vi-" 

"Go!" I yelled, tears brewing in my eyes. 

He walked away, going back to the strip club.

I covered my face with my hands as I silently sobbed. Wade held me in his arms as I cried.

At that moment, Violet couldn't see Logan's face. But it was filled with rage and anger as he wondered to himself why someone would cheat on a nice girl. 

A few moments passed, and I was crying until we heard a car honk. We all looked up to see what that noise was, and it was Dopinder in his taxi, smiling and waving at us. I wiped my eyes as Wade let me go. 

"Are you ok now, Violet?" Wade asks as we walk to the taxi. 

"Yes, I'm ok now. Thanks Wade." I lied as I gave him a tired smile. 

We got in the taxi and drove home. As I looked at the stars, all I could see was Adams face. The crying made me tired, which made me sleep the entire way home. 

I woke up on my bed. My body feeling relaxed from the needed nap. Wait, how did I even get in bed? As I collected my thoughts, I just remembered sleeping in the taxi, and that's about it. As I looked up at the ceiling, memories started flowing in again—all of Adam. Why, of all places, did I see him there? Why is he still in my life after what he did to me? What did he mean by I never let him explain what truly happened? And why, after all this time, do I still love him? These thoughts in my head made my heartache unbearable. I started to cry, trying to muffle my mouth with my upper sleeve, attempting not to make any noise. After a few minutes of crying, I checked my phone, and I had a message from Vanessa. 

Vanessa: Hey, babe. Wade told me what happened. Want to talk about it? 

I looked at the time, and it was 8 p.m. I didn't feel like going out, so I decided tomorrow would be better. 

Violet: Want to grab coffee tmr at our spot in the morning? 

As I waited for her response, I walked to the bathroom to wash my face. I turned on the light and closed the door. I looked at myself in the mirror, and my eyes were puffy from crying. I giggled at myself for how silly I looked. I turned on the faucet to get cold water and washed my face, trying not to get the water all over the sink. After, I quickly washed my teeth because I had a weird taste in my mouth. I then combed my hair and decided to take a shower, so I walked out to get some of my clothes. As I walked to my room, I accidentally bumped into Logan. 

"Sorry, Logan, I didn't see you there." I said, in my post nap voice. 

"No worries." he said as he walked to the kitchen. 

I quickly headed into my room, grabbed my clothes, and headed to the bathroom. 

I took a long shower, trying to collect my thoughts. About Adam, about Logan, about everything. As the water hit my head, I couldn't help but feel my heart flutter at the thought that Adam was still wanting me after all this time. But at the same time, something was growing inside of me when I thought of Logan. When he was so protective of me, even though he didn't think I noticed, I couldn't wonder if he cared for me. Adam, on the other hand, we have history. I fell in love with him the first day I worked at the flower shop. He was getting flowers for his mother's grave, and I accompanied him after my shift was over. It was random, but it was lovely. My family's gravestones are across the country, so it was nice going to see one, even though she wasn't anything to me. After that day, he started coming every day to see me. It made me question if he had a job because of how much free time he had. He assured me that I was worth his lunch break. I felt loved and apprenticed. He eventually asked me out, and I said yes. Then he proposed, and I said yes. Until one day, I walked into my apartment after a long day of work. I caught him laying on my couch, and my whore of a roommate was on top of him naked. They didn't know I had walked in, so I closed the door, walked to Vanessa's apartment, and slept there for a week. After I stopped crying, I went to my apartment, burned all her things, and changed the locks. I never saw her again, but I think she got the message. Adam came by the next day and acted like nothing happened. I acted like everything was okay for the sake of our relationship, but I couldn't hold it in. I screamed and yelled at him about how he betrayed me and hurt me. And I kicked him out. Until a few days ago, when I saw him, and now today.

After I did my shower routine, I dried myself with my blue towel, and I put on my small shorts and tank top like I always do. I did my night routine early, and I walked out of the steaming bathroom. Logan was in the living room, his eyes directly on the TV, watching a black-and-white film as he had a beer in his hand. As I put my clothes in my laundry basket, I got a text from Vanessa, which read:

Vanessa: Of course, I'll see you then. Love you 🩷 

I liked her message and headed to the kitchen to make myself something to eat. 

I decided to eat some cereal because I didn't feel like cooking on the stove. I decided to eat in my room, and as I ate, I watched my favorite show, Pretty Little Liars.

I woke up at 3 a.m. to Logan's screams again. This was the second time this week. I decided to check on him, but this time cautiously. I got a glass of water from the kitchen and tiptoed to his room. The door was closed this time, so I opened it carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible. I could see him squirm in his sleep. beams of sweat collecting on his forehead and the sheets scattered on the floor. I carefully walked up to him and took out the glass of water on his nightstand. I could hear his voice tremble. I listened closer to what he was saying. 

"Violet....Vi please," is all I could manage to hear. Why was he saying my name? I thought to myself as I listened closer. "Please," he said, growling. I decided to try something. During my time with Strucker, I had intense training using my powers. I had training about everything—fighting, how to use a gun and knives, and of course, how to manipulate my powers. I got the chance to unlock new abilities such as telekinesis and emotion manipulation. I can float, but I can’t fly; I haven’t practiced that since I escaped Strucker. I can read thoughts, but not that well. It takes me a lot to practice, and lastly, I can heal myself and others. I decided to try something on Logan that I haven't tried on anyone yet. I got close to him and put my hand above his head. I closed my eyes and tried to calm his mind from what was tormenting him. I tried not to see in his mind because that's his business. but all I could manage to see was me on top of him. I removed my hand quickly and wondered to myself what the hell I was doing on top of him. I shook my thoughts and returned my hand to the top of his head again, and I continued to clear his mind. Purple magic glowed from my hand as my eyes started glowing too. I stood there for about a minute until he was in a deep slumber. I covered him in his sheets, and I quickly walked back to my room.

I got up from my bed feeling well-rested after a long, peaceful sleep. A rare sense of calm settled over me as I stretched, savoring the comfort of the morning. Glancing at my phone, I saw that it was already 8:30 a.m. Shit, I thought, suddenly remembering the plans I had with Nessa. I quickly checked the weather app, hoping for good news, and was relieved to see that it was going to be a sunny day. Perfect. I decided on a pink crop top paired with low-rise jeans that hugged my figure in all the right places. The outfit made me feel confident, accentuating my curves while still being casual and comfortable. Feeling inspired, I straightened my hair until it fell sleek and smooth around my shoulders, then applied some makeup. I wanted to look pretty today, and why not? Pretty day, pretty thoughts. I smiled at my reflection, feeling good about how the day was starting.

Grabbing my purse, I headed out of my bedroom, ready to start the day. Just as I was about to leave, Logan stepped out of the bathroom, fresh from his shower. His damp hair clung to his forehead, and steam still curled around his skin, which glistened in the morning light. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, just like yesterday, his muscular chest and arms on full display. I paused for a moment, caught off guard by his presence, but quickly composed myself. 

"Morning," I said with a casual smile, trying not to let my eyes linger on his toned physique.

Logan nodded in response, his gaze meeting mine briefly before he looked away, running a hand through his wet hair. "Morning," he replied, his voice still a bit rough from sleep.

I could feel a slight flutter in my chest, but I pushed it aside, reminding myself that today was about spending time with Nessa, not getting lost in whatever complicated feelings Logan stirred in me. With a final glance, I turned and headed for the door, determined to focus on the day ahead. 

I walked out the door and headed to Vanessa's apartment, which was just across from Al's. Before I could knock, I heard Logan's voice booming behind me.

"Vi, I mean, Violet."

I turned around to see him striding closer, still in nothing but that towel. My eyes couldn't help but linger on the way the fabric clung to his hips, the muscles in his chest and arms still glistening slightly from the shower. Does this man ever bring clothes with him when he takes a shower? I thought, trying to keep my expression neutral.

"Yes, Logan, what is it?" I asked, trying to compose myself and not let my thoughts wander too far.

He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "How are you feeling? You know, you seemed pretty hurt last night." His voice was softer now, the concern in his tone almost surprising as he looked at me with those intense eyes, waiting for my response.

I managed a small smile, appreciating the unexpected gesture. "I'm better. Thanks for asking," I replied, my voice steady.

He held my gaze for a moment longer, then gave a slight nod. "Good," he said, his voice low and gruff, the usual edge returning to it. Then, without another word, he turned around and headed back toward our apartment. 

As he walked, my eyes were immediately drawn to his bare back, where the powerful muscles were fully exposed, flexing with each step. The defined ridges of his shoulder blades moved fluidly under his skin, a testament to years of battle and survival. His broad, muscular back tapered down to a narrow waist, where a towel hung low on his hips, barely clinging to the chiseled lines of his body. The sight of him, all raw strength and rugged masculinity, made my breath catch. His skin was tanned and slightly damp, catching the light in a way that highlighted every contour, every hard edge of muscle.

Logan moved with a kind of animal grace, his every step radiating confidence and command. The towel wrapped around his waist did little to hide the curve of his powerful lower back and the muscles that stretched down to his legs. His broad shoulders and thick, muscular arms swung slightly as he walked, each movement accentuating the strength in his body. As he reached the door, I could see the taut lines of his side, the way his abs flexed and tightened, leading down to the sharp V of his hips. There was something primal about the way he carried himself, an aura of untamed power that was both intimidating and undeniably attractive. My eyes lingered on him longer than I intended, tracing the defined muscles that seemed to ripple with every breath he took. His back, broad and strong, was a landscape of hardened muscle and sinew, each ridge and valley a testament to the life he’d lived. The towel, hanging dangerously low, only added to the magnetic pull he seemed to have on me.

As he finally stepped into the apartment, the door closing behind him, I was left standing there, my heart racing and my body humming with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name. Was it desire? Lust? Something deeper? I wasn’t sure, but the sight of Logan like this had ignited something in me, something I wasn’t ready to confront but couldn’t easily ignore either.

I cleared my throat and knocked on Nessa's door, trying to shake off the lingering thoughts of Logan. The door swung open, and to my surprise, there stood Wade, clad in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Does no one wear any clothes around here? I thought to myself, trying not to roll my eyes.

Wade grinned at me, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite person. Come to join the towel club, Vi? We're offering exclusive memberships today."

I shook my head, a smirk playing on my lips despite myself. "Does everyone around here have something against clothing, or is this just your way of welcoming guests?"

Wade laughed, leaning casually against the doorframe. "What can I say? It's a lifestyle choice. Less laundry, more freedom. You should try it sometime."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I'll pass, thanks. Is Vanessa here, or are you the only one gracing us with your... wardrobe choices today?"

"She's in the shower," Wade replied with a wink. "But you're welcome to come in and wait. I'll even put some pants on if you're lucky."

I sighed, stepping inside despite the absurdity of the situation. "Pants would be great, Wade. Thanks."

I sat on his couch, politely declining his offer for something to drink. Wade, now thankfully dressed in a pair of sweatpants, flopped down beside me with his usual playful grin.

“So, Vi,” Wade began, leaning back with his arms stretched across the back of the couch, “how’s it been living with our favorite grumpy Canadian? I mean, Logan’s not exactly the chatty roommate type, right? Any claws-out moments recently?”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “No claws-out moments, thankfully. It’s been… interesting. He’s quiet, keeps to himself mostly. But he’s not as bad as you’d think. We’ve had a few conversations that weren’t half-bad. He’s actually kind of considerate, in his own gruff way.”

Wade raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Considerate, huh? That’s a new one. I mean, I knew he had a heart under all that muscle and brooding, but still… surprising.”

I shrugged, smiling slightly. “Yeah, he’s got his moments. It’s not all grunts and growls.”

Wade smirked, leaning in closer. “So, any... other moments I should know about? You know, late-night, steamy encounters? Maybe you’re rubbing off on him in ways I haven’t considered?”

I rolled my eyes, giving him a light shove. “Wade, seriously? No, nothing like that. We’re just roommates. Besides, I’m not sure Logan’s the type to ‘rub off’ on anyone.”

Wade laughed, clearly amused by his own teasing. “Fair enough, fair enough. But if anything does happen, you know who to call. I’ll be your number one cheerleader.”

I shook my head, laughing along with him. “Thanks, Wade. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Vanessa walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed and looking refreshed. She smiled at me and asked, “Ready to go?”

“Yep,” I replied, standing up and grabbing my purse. We waved a quick goodbye to Wade, who was already engrossed in whatever ridiculousness he was up to on his phone, and headed out the door.

As we walked to the coffee shop, Vanessa and I made small talk, catching up on the little things—work, what we’d been up to, and the usual gossip about people we both knew. It was nice, the kind of easy conversation that felt natural and comforting.

The morning air was cool, with just a hint of warmth from the sun beginning to break through the clouds. The streets were busy but not overwhelming, and there was something about the simplicity of the day that made me feel at ease.

When we arrived at the coffee shop, we slipped into our usual routine. We ordered our drinks—Vanessa’s usual latte and my iced coffee—and found our way to our usual spot by the window. It was a cozy corner where we could watch the world go by while we talked.

As we sat in our usual spot at the coffee shop, Vanessa’s eyes softened with concern. She took a slow sip of her latte before leaning in closer. “Vi, I know it’s not easy to talk about, but Wade told me what happened last night… with Adam. Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath, feeling a lump form in my throat as I recalled the encounter. “It was… intense,” I admitted, setting my iced coffee down. “I tried to just walk past him, you know? Like, I didn’t want to deal with any of it. But he followed me outside, and… God, I just lost it. I punched him, Nessa. I was so angry.”

Vanessa nodded, her expression understanding. “He deserved it after everything he put you through. What did he even want?”

I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to keep the emotions at bay. “He wanted to explain, to tell me his side of the story. Like it would make any difference now. He begged me to listen, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to hear any of it. I told him to leave, and when he wouldn’t… Logan and Wade stepped in.”

Vanessa reached across the table, taking my hand in hers. “I’m glad they were there for you. It sounds like it was really overwhelming.”

“It was,” I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. “Wade even pulled out his gun, ready to… I don’t know what he was going to do, but Adam got the message. He left, but not before trying one last time to talk to me. I just… I couldn’t handle it. I told him to go, and when he finally did, I broke down. Wade held me while I cried.”

Vanessa’s eyes filled with sympathy as she squeezed my hand. “Vi, you’ve been through so much with him. It’s no wonder you reacted the way you did. But I’m proud of you for standing your ground, for not letting him manipulate you.”

I nodded, tears welling up as I tried to blink them away. “It was just so hard, Nessa. Seeing him again, hearing him try to justify what he did… it brought back all those feelings I thought I’d buried. But you’re right—I didn’t let him manipulate me. I stood up for myself.”

“And that’s huge,” Vanessa said, her voice full of support. “You’ve come a long way, Vi. Don’t forget that. And you’re not alone in this. You have Wade, me.....and Logan. We’ve got your back.”

I smiled through the tears, feeling a wave of gratitude. “Thanks, Nessa. It helps to know I’m not alone.”

“You never are,” she assured me, giving my hand one last squeeze before letting go. “And remember, you don’t owe Adam anything. Not an explanation, not forgiveness. Nothing.”

I nodded, feeling a bit more at peace. “You’re right. I just need to focus on moving forward.”

“That’s exactly it,” Vanessa said, her smile warm and reassuring. “And if you ever need to talk, or just get your mind off things, I’m here.”

I returned her smile, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “Thanks, Nessa. I really appreciate that.”

With that, we shifted the conversation to lighter topics, letting the warmth of our friendship push away the lingering shadows of the past.

As we walked back to our building, Vanessa linked her arm through mine, her expression thoughtful. “You know,” she began, a hint of excitement in her voice, “I was thinking… maybe we could have a game night tonight. Just the four of us—Wade, Logan, you, and me. It could be a good distraction, something fun to take your mind off things.”

I glanced at her, surprised but warmed by the suggestion. “A game night?”

“Yeah,” she nodded enthusiastically. “We’ll order some food, maybe get a few drinks, and just relax. No drama, no stress. Just good company and a few laughs.”

I smiled, the idea of a low-key evening with friends sounding exactly like what I needed. “That actually sounds really nice, Nessa. I could use a night like that.”

“Great!” Vanessa beamed, squeezing my arm. “I'll knock on your door around 7 once everything is set up. I’m sure Wade will be up for it, and I can convince Logan to join in too.”

I chuckled, imagining Logan’s gruff reaction to being roped into a game night. “Yeah, good luck with that. I don't think he seems like the game night type. But honestly, it sounds like fun.”

“Perfect,” Vanessa said, clearly pleased. “This is going to be just what we need. A night to unwind and just enjoy ourselves.”

As we reached the building, I felt a sense of anticipation mixed with relief. After the emotional rollercoaster of the past 24 hours, the thought of spending an evening with people who cared about me, and Logan, just having fun, was exactly what I needed.

“Thanks for suggesting this, Nessa,” I said as we entered the building. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for you,” she replied with a smile. “Now let’s go get ready. Tonight’s going to be a blast.”

A little while later, I was in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches on my makeup and hair, when I heard a knock at the door. My heart skipped a beat as I realized it must be Vanessa. I yelled a Logan to open the door. I quickly quieted my movements, curious to hear how Logan would handle her invitation.

The door creaked open, and I heard Logan’s deep voice greeting Vanessa. “Hey.”

“Hey, Logan,” Vanessa’s voice was bright and friendly as always. “Is Vi around?”

“She’s in the bathroom,” Logan replied, his tone neutral. “You need something?”

“Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you,” Vanessa said, a hint of playfulness in her voice. “I’m planning a little game night tonight—just the four of us, you, me, Wade, and Vi. We could all use a break, and I think it’d be fun.”

There was a brief pause, and I could almost picture Logan standing there, arms crossed, considering the proposal. I held my breath, waiting for his response.

“I’m not really the game night type,” Logan finally said, his tone gruff but not entirely dismissive.

“Oh, come on,” Vanessa coaxed, clearly not willing to take no for an answer. “It’s not about the games, really. It’s just about hanging out, having some fun, maybe a few drinks. I promise, nothing too crazy.”

Another pause, and then I heard Logan sigh, almost as if he knew he was going to give in. 

“Alright. But only because I’m guessing Violet wants this.”

Vanessa laughed softly. “She does. And so do I. So, you’ll join us?”

“Yeah, I’ll join,” Logan replied, a reluctant but resigned tone in his voice. “What time?”

“In like an hour,” Vanessa said, sounding pleased. "See you then?”

“See you then,” Logan confirmed, and I could hear the door closing as Vanessa left.

I smiled to myself in the mirror, feeling a sense of warmth spread through me. Logan agreeing to join us, even if reluctantly, meant more to me than I cared to admit. It was a small gesture, but it showed that he was willing to be a part of something, to be there for me—and that was enough.

As Vanessa left the apartment, a thought crossed her mind—Could Logan be into Violet? She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his reluctance than just being anti-social. Determined to find proof, she decided tonight’s game night would be the perfect opportunity to observe. If there’s something there. She thought with a sly smile. I’ll figure it out.

I stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing down my outfit, and noticed Logan standing by the door, his usual stoic expression in place.

“What did Vanessa want?” I asked, curious.

Logan glanced at me, his gaze lingering for a moment before he answered. “She’s planning a game night tonight. Asked if I’d join.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. “And… what did you say?”

He shrugged slightly, his tone casual. “I said I’d be there.”

"Ok cool" I said, trying not to smile.

An hour passed and I waited for Logan to get ready, and when he emerged from his room, I had to do a double take. He was wearing blue jeans that fit him perfectly, paired with black boots and a red flannel shirt that hugged his broad shoulders and muscular chest. He looked like a hot lumberjack straight out of a fantasy—rugged, strong, and effortlessly handsome.

I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of appreciation, but I quickly pushed it aside as we headed out the door. Together, we made our way to Vanessa's apartment, where the night was sure to get interesting.

Part 5: Living in the moment

[cryptidghostgirl]

I would literally pay you to write a sequel to Humanity’s Most Favored Fantasy where the reader ends up in heaven but goes back cuz she needs everyone to know she's OK and alastor confesses cuz he won't miss the chance twice

A/N It was supposed to be a one off but I can totally make this happen bc I do feel like she would be redeemed. Sorry for so many posts today, I am really trying to get through these requests before the week of midterms I am going to deal with next week followed by a family vacation.

Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Part One: Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader)

Warnings: I don't think there are any but please correct me if I am wrong. A tiny little baby bit of angst?? Idk, man.

Word Count: 1,783

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

"You have to send me back."

Sera watched Heaven's two newest angels with careful consideration. They were each the first of their kind as far as either she or Emily knew, sinners having been redeemed.

"You have to at least let me talk to them!" Y/n pleaded, "Please, Charlie needs to know it worked. This... this place, that hotel, it's her dream. She's been dreaming for this all her life, working for it, giving it everything she has her whole life! She needs to know, she deserves to know."

"I mean, Sera, what harm could it do?" Emily tentatively asked her companion.

Y/n turned, looking back at Sir Pentious for help. Both had died in the battle for the hotel, only to be reborn as angels. They each had sacrificed themselves to Adam and his wrath for the sake of their friends, their newly found family.

The journey to Heaven had changed them. Sir Pentious was decked out in all white and gold, little hearts hidden everywhere over his body because it was his confession to Cheri that had been the final straw, that absolute show of humility in the face of sudden violent fear. Y/n on the other hand had found her angle form very similar to the statues she'd poured over as a human. A chiton hung lightly from her shoulders, her hair pulled up in an imperial Roman style and laurels winding their way around her head and through her hair. She looked positively monumental.

"Please." Y/n turned back to Sera, noting Pentious' hesitation, "You... you have to. Aren't we supposed to be all about fairness? About kindness? About caring for others?"

"She's got a point." Emily hummed, "I think we should give them a portal, at least so they can talk to their friends."

It was now Sir Pentious stepped forward, shaking slightly as he still tried to take in his new surroundings. Unlike Y/n who had disregarded them entirely in favor of the fight she was now picking with the seraphim, Pentious was overwhelmed and confused, completely loosing himself to the situation.

"Um... please, my ladies." he tentatively began before Y/n desperately cut him off.

"We wont ask for anything! Ever again! Right Pen?"

Sir Pentious nodded eagerly, his hands clasped before his chest. Emily turned to Sera, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Come on, Sera! Please!"

Sera sighed. This whole occasion was completely unheard of, totally uncharted territory.

"I suppose."

She would need to talk to God, need to get some form of guidance. For now, allowing the redeemed sinners to speak to their friends didn't seem to be too much of a risk. Emily clapped her hands in excitement, Y/n could have cried.

"Thank you."

Reluctantly, Sera nodded her head in welcome and with a flick of her wrist, a spinning disc of gold appeared in the air.

"Here are the rules." she carefully began, "One, you are not to speak to them where Emily and I cannot see both you and them through the portal. Two, there is a time limit. You get five minutes. Thre-"

"Oh come on, Sera!" Emily cut in, "Isn't that enough? This is their family, they might never get to see them again."

Sera let out another world weary sigh. She didn't have the energy to fight with Emily, it was all too much.

"Fine, fine." she waved the younger seraphim off, "Are you two ready?"

Y/n and Pentious met one another's gaze.

"Yes." Sir Pentious answered for them, "I believe so."

With a snap of Sera's fingers, the center of the glowing disc spread open like the aperture of a camera. The sight that met their eyes caused Y/n to gasp, her hands flying to her mouth.

The hotel looked completely different. Everything was nicer, shinier, bigger than either former sinner had ever seen it.

"The fuck is that?" they heard Cherri ask in her thick, Australian drawl.

"It's us!" Sir Pentious happily replied and in a flash, every member of the hotel was gathered on the other side of the portal.

"Charlie!" Y/n exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks, "Angie! Husker!"

"Y/n? Pen?" Charlie asked, her eyes wide.

"You did it!" Y/n happily replied.

"Where are you guys?" Nifty asked, looking in awe at Y/n and Pentious' stark white surroundings.

"We're in Heaven." Sir Pentious proudly replied.

"Say hi Sera, Emily!"

Emily ducked into view of the others, waving excitedly while Sera stayed put.

"Or... not Sera, I guess." Y/n mumbled, a bit disappointed.

Charlie turned to Vaggie, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and shaking her intensly.

"Vaggie!" she screamed in excitment.

"You did it! I'm so proud of you." Vaggie smiled up at her girlfriend, caressing her cheek gently with one of her hands.

"We did it." Charlie corrected, turning back to Y/n and Sir Pentious, "Oh my gosh, you guys! I'm so..."

Charlie sniffled and Y/n laughed, her eyes soft with care.

"We love you too Charlie. We..."

She turned to Sera, catching the look the seraphim shot her that alerted them to their dwindling time.

"We don't have much time." Sir Pentious finished for Y/n, "We just wanted to let you all know. We had to let you all know. Cheri, my dear?"

Cheri's cheeks flushed pink as Angle elbowed her playfully.

"Uh, yeah?"

Pentious smiled.

"I hope to see you soon."

"Sure. Whatever." Cheri looked away and Husk laughed.

"We hope to see all of you soon." Y/n added and then her face fell.

She hadn't meant to sour the mood with the impossibility of her words. Vaggie put a comforting arm around Charlie and Y/n could have sworn she saw one of Alastor's ears twitch from where he stood at the back of the group.

Alastor had been the only one to say nothing to the pair so far. The portal was growing smaller and the only thing on Y/n's mind was letting everyone at the hotel who she knew she might never get the chance to see again know how grateful she was to have had the opportunity to know them.

Brow furrowed, eyes lightly panicked, she turned to Charlie.

"Charlie, I love you." she announced, tears beginning to pool in her eyes, "I am so grateful for you, for everything you've done. You're an incredible person and I... I'm going to miss you so much. Same with you Vaggie. You are the brightest pair of people of any sort I have ever met."

That was the last straw for Charlie. The demon Princess began to bawl and with Angel and Cheri's help, Vaggie lead her out of sight of the portal. Next, Y/n fixed her gaze on Husk.

"Husker, I don't know if... if you or Nifty even want... it doesn't matter." she took a deep breath, "You are both such incredible people, thank you for being my friends."

Husk smiled sadly at her as Nifty latched onto his leg, hugging it tightly as tears began to fall. Lastly, Y/n turned to look at Alastor.

Out of everyone at the hotel, she knew Alastor the least. They never spoke much and when they were in the same room together, he always seemed to be as far away from her as he could get. It was complicated and confusing, but Y/n still knew none of this would have been possible without his help. She took a deep breath.

"Alastor?"

His ears picked up at the sound of her voice saying his name. Warily, he turned to face her.

Ever since the portal had appeared, his brain had been a rushing mess of thought, his heart a caged bird, trapped in the confines of his chest. He had thought he had lost any hope, any chance. Things had suddenly become much more complicated.

"I know we were never close." Y/n began and his breath caught in his throat, "I just... none of this would have been possible without you. I know you have no interest in redemption and... I wish I had gotten to know you better. You're... even though I don't really know you all to well, I want you to know that I love you all the same."

It was the first time, the very first time, those words had ever been directed from her to him. It felt better than Alastor ever could have imagined.

"I love you too."

The words had left his mouth before he'd really been able to think them through. His cheeks flushed pink at the realization of what he had said, Y/n's eyes widened, her lips slightly parted.

It was strange. Maybe it was because he always avoided her, maybe it was because she thought he hated her. Maybe it was a billion different reasons why she had never considered the idea before but none of those things mattered because she heard his words now, considered them now. Y/n realized that maybe, just maybe, she wanted to love him back. Not platonically because maybe, just maybe, in this moment, all she wanted to do was reach through the portal and kiss him.

Those were thoughts to deal with later. She would have time later, she didn't now. The portal's closure became faster and Y/n sent a panicked look towards Sera and Emily. They were, however, unyielding in her silent plea and so she turned back to the quickly shrinking image of Alastor, Husk, and Nifty.

"I..." her voice trembled, "Fuck! Alastor, there's no time. I... fuck!"

There was so much she wanted to say, so many questions left unasked. Alastor, to her surprise, broke through her stressed mutterings, fueled by a sudden, wild courage. It was that human part of him, that one remaining spark of light.

"It's alright." he took a step closer, "You don't have to answer I just... I needed you to know. When Adam... when you died, the... nothing mattered anymore. I never thought I'd get the chance to say it, to tell you the truth. I had to, I had... I'm sorry."

"No! Alastor!" She yelled fiercely back at him, her eyes wild and determined as he loved them best, "Never apologize for loving someone. Never apologize for caring. I..."

The portal was almost shut now.

"Come find me!"

In a burst of golden light like phoenix fire, the portal vanished. Y/n was breathless, she turned to Pentious who was smiling brightly.

"He loves me."

He nodded and she giggled giddily.

"He loves me!"

As reality set in, the joy slipped from her face.

"And I'll probably never see him again."

----

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0@kahlan170@wendyphan01203-blog

[bitchinbarzal]

I’ve been mad at the world | M Estapa

“Ever since you passed away I’ve been mad at the world”

warnings: mentions of death, being drugged, mentions of sexual assault and vulnerability of women

-

“Come on!”

“Mark I said no!” You whine from under your blanket “I am tired and I don’t want to go to the stupid party”

Mark throws himself down on your bed next to you and gives you pleading eyes “Please, for me?”

You hum for a moment in contemplation before you nod “Fine! Get out so I can change”

Mark knew you hated these parties but you always agreed because it was Mark, you couldn’t say no to him.

At the party, you’d lost him as soon as you entered with Mark drifting off to see friends and classmates while you found Ethan and Mackie playing beer pong.

“Hey, shortstack!”

You smile at the nickname and cuddle into Mackie’s side “Hey, how you guys doing?”

“We suck” Ethan announced to which Mackie scoffed and you announced “Let the boss show you how it’s done!”

Mark watched with a clenched chest as you played the game, hugged into Mackie’s chest. His own teammate.

After you’d won the game you went out in search of Mark, asking around if anyone had seen him.

“Have any of you seen Mark?” You asked in the kitchen, where the freshmen had been gathered.

Adam sips his drink and nods out to the garden “Yeah I think he went out back with Tara”

You frown “Who’s Tara?”

“Some chick from his intro to sports science class”

You shrug and thank them before headed out to the yard. You waded through the couples making out, the kids too drunk and vomiting already before you stumbled across Mark in the back of the yard.

The only issue was that he was currently conjoined with Tara by their tongues.

You gasp lowly, catching their attention. Mark stutters “Y/N…”

“I’m sorry I was just-“ you begin stating and scurry back to the house.

“Y/N wait!”

“Mark honestly, I didn’t-“

“Would you please just hold on a minute!” He shouts, grabbing your wrist.

You turn to him with tears in your eyes “Please just leave me alone!”

“Why are You crying? What’s going-“

“Don’t pretend you don’t know!” You scream “Why would you invite me here?”

“Because I wanted to spend time with my best friend!” He shouts back.

“Oh yeah, so you can ditch me to go shove your tongue down Tara’s throat!” You sob.

Mark sighs “You were the one all cuddled up with Mackie!”

“Mackie? Our friend? Are you-“

“God y/n I’m at a party I want to enjoy myself I don’t want you constantly nagging me!”

That stopped you, furrowing your brows “Nagging you? I didn’t even want to come tonight!”

He waves his hands around “well go home then! I don’t want you here anyway!”

You nod slowly “Got it, have a nice night Mark”

He groans as you walk away, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you walk into the house and he mumbles “Fuck me!”

In the house, you barged into the kitchen catching the freshies attention who all questioned eachother on why you would be so upset looking.

You found your way down the hall and upstairs to find a bathroom, as you stood in the bathroom washing your tear stained face the door flew open.

You shouted “Occupied!”

“Oh shit I’m sorry!” The guy shouted “I just needed a piss”

You mumble “It’s ok I’ll go”

As you pass him he grabs the side of your face and makes you look towards him “Why are you crying? Why would such a pretty girl be crying at a party?”

You chuckle dryly “How much time have you got?”

His name was Logan and he seemed nice. He was studying science at Michigan, but he was from Florida and he told you he’d seen you around at hockey games.

Logan occupied your time for the night, sitting on the stairs and talking. You were slightly more than buzzed now, not having noticed the drinks Logan kept handing you and you weren’t usually one for drinking. With the boys being strict on the team mark usually cut you off when he did. But Mark wasn’t here.

“Hey how about we get out of here?” Logan suggested and you nod “Yeah sure”

You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving.

It was cold out and at this time Mark would’ve offered you a sweater but Logan didn’t, instead he yanked your hand as you stumbled behind on the sidewalk.

Fifteen minutes into the walk you didn’t feel too good, the alcohol was getting to you and you were freezing. It was November in Michigan after all.

“I wanna call an Uber I don’t feel good” you announce to which Logan smiles.

“Already? The nights so young! I was thinking we could even go back to my place…” he got closer to you, his hands running down your arms and closing into your bottom before he squeezed it and you yelped

“Don’t touch me! Stop it!”

“C’mon sweetheart it was only a joke!” He defended to which you scoffed “Yeah right, pig!”

You watched his eyes darken at your words and his voice got lower “What did you just call me?”

It was then your body covered in goosebumps and you decided it was time to run. You sprinted along the sidewalk as well as your legs could carry you in your impaired state.

You pulled out your phone and clicked the most recent number which just so happened to be Mark

It rang and back at the party Mark saw your caller ID and scoffed before he hung up. You cried out when it went to his voicemail

“Mark please just pick up this guys chasing me and I’m scared and I need you so-“ you tripped, over a rock on the side walk sending you flying onto the concrete and smashing your head, immediately knocked unconscious.

When Logan finally caught up he found you in the state of what he assumed was dead, you looked dead by looks of the now red pavement and your pale skin under his phones flashlight.

“Oh shit, oh shit” he swore, before running off in the other direction and back to the party as his way of pretending none of this happened.

When you woke up and accused him of what he did he would say he was at the party.

Back at the party it was after midnight and Mark was ready to go home so he went looking for you.

“Anyone seen Y/N?”

Dylan nodded “Yeah I saw her leave with some guy”

Mark’s gut clenched with jealousy “Oh… right well I’m headed back to the dorm see you guys at practice”

Mark’s phone was dead by the time he was in bed and he was too tired to wait up and check it so he left it charging on Ethan’s side of the room and went to bed.

When the morning came Mark was alone in his room. It looked like Ethan had been and gone, along with Mark’s phone.

When he got to practice the place seemed quiet and he was starting to think he was missing something.

Walking into the locker room nobody was changing, all just sitting in there stalls. It felt unnatural.

“What’s up with everyone?” He asks, throwing his bag down on the stall.

Nolan stands from his stall “Mark, bud let’s talk outside”

Mark frowns and looks at all of his teammates before he looks back at Nolan. All of them look sad but sad for him.

“No, Cap tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand what’s going on this is-“

“Mark sit down” Dylan suggests and Mark shakes his head “I’m not sitting down just tell me what’s going on!”

Nolan takes a deep breath and starts “Y/N was found this morning”

Mark shrugs “Listen if she was at that dudes house I don’t even care we fought she was probably just-“

“Mark, she died last night. They found her bled out on someone’s driveway this morning in the area” Nolan interrupts.

Mark begins laughing, confusing everyone “That’s funny, did she put you up to this?”

It’s Ethan’s turn to interrupt “Mark, she’s really gone” and hands him back his phone. The text messages from his family and yours, the news and social media posts.

His hands are shaky and his legs begin to give way, someone pushes him back so he’s sitting down.

“No, no she was right here! She was with me last night she- look she left me a voicemail!” He shouts playing your voicemail out to the room “Mark please just pick up this guys chasing me and I’m scared and I need you so-“

When the line cuts Mark’s breaths can be heard faster and heavier than before “She called me, she called me and I hung up-“ he’s pulled into Ethan’s hold as he lets out a loud sob and scream.

The rest of the team begin filing out to give him privacy.

“It’s ok bud” Ethan soothes and Mark continues screaming.

“It’s ok”

He pulls away and sniffles loudly “She called me for help, I could’ve saved her”

Christmas Day it was snowing, you always loved Michigan snow at Christmas. Growing up you and Mark would stay out in the snow until dark building igloos and snowmen.

Mark sat down on the snow, the red roses in his hand as he spoke

“Ever since you passed away, I’ve been mad at the world. I’ve been so mad that I didn’t answer the phone, that I kissed her and you left, that I let you leave! I didn’t even want to kiss her I wanted to make you jealous because that’s how my stupid brain works. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids… I know you loved me too” he mumbles, wiping his tears

“I got to love you for your entire life and I promise I’m gonna love you for the rest of mine”

He places the rose down on the stone “night my love, I’ll be back tomorrow” and tomorrow was followed by every day after that. By senior year mark was declining contracts to play for teams across the country and in Canada all because

“I can’t leave her, I left her once and look what happened!”

So he didn’t leave Michigan, he was never going to leave your side again.

[themultifandomgal]

Jay- What Are You Doing?

I waddle to the precinct with some food for me and Jay to eat on his lunch break

"What on gods earth are you doing here?" Trudy asks crossing her arms

"I'm here to eat with Jay. Can you buzz me up please?"

"You should be at home"

"I've been at home for weeks. I'm bored" I moan at Trudy who sighs

"Alright alright" she picks up her phone "detective chuckles come and get your heavily pregnant wife before she goes into labour on my floor" I laugh as Trudy puts down the phone. In no time at all Jay is by my side and we make our way to the bullpen

"You should have stayed at home" he says with a hand placed on my lower back

"I can't stay home anymore. I've rearranged the furniture enough times"

"Your going to hurt yourself doing that" he scolds. We arrive in the bullpen where I'm greeted by everyone

"Aren't you meant to be on maternity leave?" Kim asks giving me a hug

"I am, but I'm bored and I needed some air"

"How long have you got left YN?" Antonio asks sitting at the edge of his desk with his arms crossed. Jay pulls out a chair for me to sit on

"Three weeks, but Natalie said because this is my first I could be late" I reply sitting down on said chair "now I'm starving so if you have more questions can they wait until I've eaten?" I open up the bag and grab a sandwich

"Gear up, I've just had intel about an armed robbery" Voight says walking out of his office "hello YN, good to see you. You can stay here until Jay gets back, take a nap or whatever while you wait"

"Thanks" I give a smile at Voight

"Ok let's move"

"See you in a bit" Jay bends now and kisses my forehead before he leaves for the locker room to get ready.

While they're all gone I have the urge to rearrange the break room. I'm now stood on a stool checking the dates of all the coffees and hot chocolates we have

"This is a pigs stye" I mutter to myself then start to laugh "ha pigs because were the police" I then start to hear chattering getting louder which means everyone's back. Quickly, but carefully, I get down and throw away anything out of date and put the chair back to where I got it from

"YN?" I hear Jay shout. I switch on the coffee pot to make it look like I'm making a drink

"In here" I call out. Jay walks into the break room and kisses my cheek

"What are you doing?"

"Making a drink"

"Coffee? But you can't have caffeine?"

"Babe I can have a little and I just fancied a coffee" lies. I've hated coffee since getting pregnant and Jay knows this

"Go sit down, I'll make you a drink" I nod my head and sit at the table. Jay opens the cupboard and takes out a tea bag and putting it into a cup. He pours some hot water in my cup then some milk and hands it to me "so what were you really up to?"

"Nothing" I give Jay a sweet smile. Adam walks into the break room and opens up the cupboard

"Where the hell is my coffee?" I turn around on the seat so I'm facing away from Adam

"YN what we're you doing?"

"Ok I may have sorted the cupboard out"

"Meaning you stood on a chair while being 9 months pregnant"

"No I magically grew" I sip my tea

"Did you throw my coffee?"

"It was out of date"

"Told you this nesting was a nightmare. She's been like it since she turned 7 months pregnant" Jay sighs "right finish your tea and I'll take you home"

"No Jay please just let me stay. I'll be on my best behaviour. I won't rearrange any furniture or climb on any chairs. Please I'm so bored at home"

"Fine, but you sit at your desk and play on your phone. You don't get involved in any cases"

"Yeah yeah" I roll my eyes and get up from the seat and waddle to my desk and sit down while everyone gets on with their work.

[meaningofaeons]

Hi, how are you?? I hope that you're doing good. May I request how the HSR boys (Mainly Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Gepard, Sampo and Caelus, if you want to add more it's ok) would react to their s/o doing something embarrassing?? I remember one time where I was out with my friends and out of nowhere I tripped and fell to the floor, my bubble tea just exploded under my chest and everyone was looking 💀 my friends split into two groups, the ones actually worried and the other ones who were just laughing, one even fell into some bushes because they couldn't stand properly 🧍‍♂️I hope it makes sense, rather than seeing it as something bad, maybe make it funny(?

sorry for my bad english🗿🥑💖

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ klutz

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, jing yuan, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 938 ⊹ notes - gn!reader, fluff, reader is kind of a klutz, all just cute stuff lmfao

hi anon! don't apologize, your english is very good! I actually only do 3 characters per req so I just went with these 3, hope that's okay! feel free to send in another req for dan heng if you'd like!! (I don't write for caelus im srry </3) thank you for the req and I hope you're doing well too! (=^･ｪ･^=))ﾉ彡☆

⊹ Gepard Landau

You can't tell me that Gepard isn't the kind to completely freak out if something like that happened to you

He's quite protective, so even if you're unharmed, something embarrassing happening for you like tripping is cause for concern for the boy!!!

"Oh my god! Y/N, are you okay?! Here, let me help you..."

It's a little awkward sometimes only because if you try to laugh it off, Gepard is totally adamant that you have nothing to feel awkward or embarrassed about

"This kind of thing happens to everyone. Please don't apologize!"

On the other hand, if it's something not involving potential bodily harm, I still don't think he'd laugh at you

At least, not too much

Gepard is the kind to be 100% sure you're okay before he even thinks of laughing at the situation

But in scenarios where you trip or possibly get hurt, he forgets the whole "laugh" part.

Still, if you were to do something like wave at someone who you thought was waving at you on accident (and they were actually waving at someone behind you) he'd... probably let a small chuckle slip.

It's even more embarrassing than bombastic laughter, arguably, because he's trying to hide it but it's so evident that he's amused

Would treat you to your favorite snack afterwards though as an apology!

He definitely gets worried that you're actually mad when he lets a small giggle slip, but you never are

"Y/N? Come on, I didn't mean to... I'm sorry!"

Let him trail after you a bit longer, it's cute to see him acting like an obedient puppy

⊹ Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan is the dignified General of the Cloud Knights. As such, he knows how to keep his composure.

Most of the time.

Truth be told, as much as the man is dedicated to his job and public appearance, he doesn't really feel like a cold, distant General. Even in public, but especially not in close quarters.

He's amicable, he smiles, he greets his people

But the first time anyone outside of the Seat of Divine Foresight had ever seen Jing Yuan laugh out loud was because of you.

When you stumbled into a pond in the gardens of the Central Starskiff Haven, your lovely boyfriend had barked one single, obvious cackle.

He was quick to politely put a hand over his mouth, but as your head popped up from the water, you had scowled.

There was an obvious smirk on his lips as he helped you out.

It had caught the attention of the (few, but still present) people nearby, so the two of you were quick to make your exit, your face burning red

Now, no matter how much he says it, Jing Yuan doesn't really feel sorry after...

Unless you really lay it on with the dramatics on how much it "upset" you.

Get this man to dote on you, because he totally will

Spoiling you rotten afterwards in exchange for genuine, pure laughter? Sign the General up!

He'll start off with gifts and treats, but if you keep up the façade, he'll eventually just start putting his hands all over you and hanging off your shoulder with overexaggerated theatrics.

"I do wish my dear Y/N would forgive this old man already... I didn't mean a thing by it..."

Don't leave him hanging too long, though—he will get too clingy trying to "earn your forgiveness" and no work will get done that day.

⊹ Sampo Koski

Let's not kid ourselves, Sampo's bursting out laughing the second you topple over

I dare say this guy is even whipping out his phone to take pictures of your blunder like the little shit he is.

Don't worry, though—those photos will never reach the eyes of others. They're for him to giggle at when he's taking a break from his work, or sit in bed and coo over how cute you were pouting at him for his tearful chuckles.

Sampo is sort of the opposite of Gepard in this scenario

If you trip or do something that could've led to unlikely harm, he's still laughing his ass off at you first

Only if you're actually hurt will he calm down and help you out, but it's always superficial wounds so he's still wiping the tears from his own eyes when he bandages your wounds

Oh, he's so smarmy when you get upset though.

"Aww, is my sweetheart mad? I'm sowwy!"

Baby voice to the max, clasping his hands together like a repentant maiden, it's hard to discern which is more embarrassing—your accident or his behavior after.

He's teasing you about it for weeks after.

Again, the pictures he takes of the incidents (if he deems them funny enough) are for his eyes only, but the story is not for his ears only

Everyone in Boulder Town hears about the incident before the week ends. I feel bad for you, poor reader...

Especially right after, if you get "upset" with him, he'll be pinching your cheeks and cooing over you

He turns up the "act like a little old lady crooning over a cute youngster" act to the maximum too, which can be annoying, but it can also turn your embarrassment into amusement and laughter

Honestly, most of the time when he's treating you like that after a blunder, it's because he wants you to see the humor in it too

Doesn't want you to be hard on yourself for doing something kinda embarrassing—happens to the best of us!

Still, make him treat you afterwards. He'll do it eventually, you just have to get through the annoying antics first.

[robotic-rin]

Why Wait For The Best When I Could Have You

(Beetlejuice x Reader)

Summary: In the light of recent notable events, you haven’t been quite sure how to be forthcoming with the family regarding your budding relationship with a certain demon. It doesn’t help that said demon isn’t known for his ability to keep secrets. Also, hopefully your mind isn’t too preoccupied making plans to soft launch your relationship, because Beetlejuice has had something on his mind lately that he’d really like to try out. It may or may not involve indulging his demonic instincts by hunting you for sport as foreplay. He’s lucky that he’s dating a monsterfucker.

Word Count: 24,092

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: even crazier demon sex this time, predator/prey dynamic, somewhat monster-y beetlejuice, temperature play, consensual possession, tentacle sex, copious amounts of biting, overstimulation, just a dash of breeding kink, oh we’re making this one HORNY-horny folks, porn with an unreasonable amount of plot, plot segments range from domestic fluff to hurt/comfort, more of beej’s mood ring hair being used to further my nefarious agendas, afab reader but with no gendered terms, tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there

Author’s Note: ok so i saw the very final showing of beetlejuice on broadway and it did inspire me to write a sequel to my fic that was originally meant to be a one shot. seeing alex brightman in the flesh was absolutely bonkers, there will never be another beetlejuice in my mind (though i’ve since seen justin on tour who is beyond awesome in the role too! alex is just my personal fave). my brain is like a snowglobe and beej is just rattling around in there so i had to write something. this can kinda stand on its own but i’d recommend reading the first fic in the series before this (linking it right here). as usual, check the tags before reading, make sure you’re good with em, and hope y’all enjoy!

“You did WHAT?”

You feel the welcoming presence of immediate regret falling over you as Barbara shoots a glare at Adam following his outburst. Maybe I should’ve told Delia first instead.

Adam seems to recoil in embarrassment at his wife’s disapproving look. “That is to say, that’s just, um…surprising! That you would accept Beetlejuice’s…unique advances. You just didn’t seem the, er, type.” His eyes dart between you and Barbara as he fumbles for words. “Okay, I’m just making it worse. Barbara, please, help.”

Barbara seems more than willing to swoop in and try to save this conversation. “What Adam is trying to say is, we love Beetlejuice, of course, he’s like family! We just didn’t expect that you would take to him so quickly and…enthusiastically! He’s a bit of an acquired taste for most people, like…quinoa salad! I mean, between the constant inappropriate comments, and the way he, to be frank, smells like a lawnmower on the best of days.” She laughs, just a bit too forced to sound natural but you’ll be damned if she isn’t doing her best to keep things polite.

Adam nods fervently. “Exactly, Barbara! Like, we’ve both kissed the guy through strange extenuating circumstances in the past, but it’s not like it was enjoyable!” He earns a swift elbow to the ribs from Barbara after that one. He lets out a soft oof and slumps against the side of the old loveseat where he and Barbara are seated across from you in the attic.

Barbara quickly turns and reaches to gently grasp your hands in hers. “Sweetie, it’s not that we aren’t happy for you, and Beetlejuice too. We just know that he can be a bit…much, after awhile, even for us. That might be a lot to deal with 24/7. I mean, it’s one thing if you didn’t have options, but someone like you? We always imagined you maybe with someone more, say…put together! Literally, when it comes to that guy.”

You shuffle uncomfortably in your chair, absentmindedly picking at the vibrant red stitched cushioning. “What, are you guys trying to tell me I can do better?” Your eyes dart up from your fidgeting hands to scan their faces.

With barely a second’s pause, the two of them begin talking over each other with various overlapping shades of, “No, nono, not at all, no…”

Adam seems to be nervously waving his hands at nothing in an attempt to dispel your accusation as though it were fog. “Hey, you’re a grown up, whatever choices you make, we support you one hundred percent! You just took us off-guard, I’m sorry if we come across as rude. If you’re sure about accepting Beetlejuice’s romantic propositions, then Barbara and I are beyond happy for you!”

“Absolutely stoked, dude!” Barbara puts on her silly deep voice for comedic effect, still fully dedicated to keeping the conversation light despite the deep awkwardness that practically permeates the air around you.

“Um, you guys realize I’m the one who more or less initiated this, right? If anything, he accepted my…romantic gesture.” You hadn’t exactly told them the less-than-family-friendly way that your feelings had been unexpectedly revealed to Beetlejuice due to some lingering sense of dignity and privacy that hadn’t yet left you, but you do have to wonder how long that’ll stay secret considering your new lover’s absolute and utter lack of shame.

“YOU came onto HIM?” This time, it’s Barbara who accidentally lets an exclamation slip out, earning an exasperated facepalm from Adam. You distantly wonder if Lydia’s conversation will go worse than this.

***

“So, how badly did they take the news?”

“They didn’t take it badly.” You resist the urge to look over at the demon who is currently hanging upside down from the ceiling next to your bed in a very relaxed bat-like fashion. Instead, you busy yourself with folding your laundry in neat piles next to you on your sheets. Anything to keep your hands moving.

Beetlejuice lets out a small huff. “You know, you can’t look me in the eye when you’re lying. The laundry isn’t that interesting, and I am literally hanging upside down on nothing. I’m very look-at-able.”

Your eyes dart up to take in his inverted face, one eyebrow raised (or lowered, from your perspective) in challenge. Any intention of snarking back at him dissolves at seeing his cute little expression, clearly proud of his perception. Without answering, you slowly lean forward, take his head in your hands, and softly kiss his lips. It’s an odd sensation to kiss someone upside down, but the two of you make it work. He returns the gesture wholeheartedly and without hesitation, kissing you in a equally gentle manner, yet not forgetting to keep you on your toes by quickly nipping your lip at the end with a sharp fang. He may be sweet with you, but he’s still himself, through and through. Not that you’re complaining.

“That was nice,” he rumbles, from somewhere way in the back of his throat. “But…you can’t kiss me out of this conversation.”

“I mean, it seemed to be working for a minute there.”

He barks out a laugh before twisting his head right side up, the rest of his body following at a delay and landing on the floor below on both feet, like a cat. “It was a valiant effort, babes. But come on, was your conversation really that bad?”

You sigh and toss aside your unfolded clothing to leave a spot on the bed for him to sit, which he readily takes. “I mean, it’s not that it was bad, it’s just…” You struggle for the right words before slumping forwards in defeat. “I don’t know.”

“Hm,” he muses at your words, emotions uncharacteristically imperceptible for a moment. “Babes, you know I won’t be pissed at them for thinking you deserve better than me, right?”

Your eyes snap open in shock and flicker over to Beetlejuice, scanning his neutral expression. Your mouth opens to say something, to assure him, to defend the Maitlands, to say something to make him feel better, but you can’t find any words.

“‘S’okay, you don’t have to say anything. I already expected it.” Beetlejuice moves to put his hand under your chin, thumb coming up to stroke your jawline to cheek. “Honestly, I agree with those two losers. I know you care about me, how could I not when you’re always lovin’ on me and shit? But I still don’t really get why. It wasn’t just to have sex, you’ve stuck around way past getting your rocks off and even willingly gotten into all my emotional fuckery. I don’t understand why. I mean, come on, have you seen yourself? You could easily woo somebody successful who, like, knows how to cook you a meal without explosions, someone who knows how dishwashers actually work, someone who can talk for hours about books, or art, or music, or whatever it is that smart people like you talk about.” He pauses. “…Someone alive. Better than a pathetic demon who just barely got a hold on his emotions after centuries of existence, at least.”

Your heart sinks, and you raise your hand to rest on top of his own hand on your face. “You shouldn’t say such negative things about yourself, for real. I don’t think of you like that, and I’m not leaving you.” You take note of his whole frame subtly tensing at those last words. There’s the sore spot. “I promise.”

His eyes dart to the floor. “…I know.”

You briefly study his reserved features in profile before bringing your hand to his face and turning him to look at you. “I’m not leaving you.”

He meets your gaze shakily. “Okay.” It seems as if he’s holding his breath, despite the fact that he doesn’t have any biological need for air. You’ve noticed that he’ll sometimes make sounds that can only be achieved through intake or outtake of breath, and you wonder if he does it on purpose for dramatic effect or subconsciously to mirror you, like a habit or mannerism picked up from a loved one. But right now, he’s still as a rock.

“Okay,” you repeat back to him, hoping your words were of some comfort. “As for the Maitlands, it’s not like they were against it or anything. They’re just surprised, and they don’t understand yet. But they will over time. Once they see us together.” You squeeze his other hand reassuringly in his lap. “And so will everyone else.”

He quickly jumps back to life after his quiet moment. “Ohhhh fuck, I forgot we have to tell everybody else in this house too. I kinda just wanna rip off the bandaid and tongue kiss you at family movie night and never bring it up so we don’t have to talk about it with all of these dweebs.”

“You absolutely know that Lydia will say something about that.” He’s right that Charles and Delia may be too polite to mention an elephant in the room, but Lydia has certainly never had an issue with being outspoken even if it’s uncomfortable.

Beetlejuice groans, flopping back on the bed. “Yep, you’re totally right. That kid is too blunt for her own good sometimes. Honestly, I’m shocked she hasn’t noticed something going on between us yet, cuz we’d totally know it if she had.”

You flop back onto the bed next to him, ignoring the tower of folded clothes that your head knocks over in the process. “To be fair, it’s only been a little over a week since we…got together.” What a polite way of saying we fucked like rabbits.

“Hm, maybe so, but you can’t deny the rich sexual tension that we’ve had going on for waaayyy longer than that, doll.” He winks at you and sticks out his tongue to punctuate the statement.

You let out a pure belly laugh at his words, playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. “Dumbass.”

Beetlejuice’s grin widens. “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” He nudges you back slightly harder, so of course you have to do the same in return to keep your honor intact. Before you know it, he’s on top of you, leaving you unsure if he teleported or simply moved positions very quickly. Cheeks already flushing at the precarious position, you try your best to fight back against him feebly, attempting to throw or push him off and finding no success. Beetlejuice, on the other hand, is just laughing childishly at your predicament as he easily swats away your hands that attempt to push him away.

“I don’t take it back,” you announce stubbornly, still trying to get any sort of leverage on the demon but finding none. He clearly outclasses you in both weight and strength, but you’re not one to let the odds deter you in this game.

“Oho, you’re gonna regret that.” The next time your hand moves to shove at him, Beetlejuice instead deftly catches and holds it by the wrist, immediately doing the same when you bring up your other hand to fight him off. After capturing both of your hands securely, he easily pushes them onto the bed on either side of your head, his nose inches from your own. With you effectively pinned to the bed, his eyes lock with yours in a half-lidded teasing gaze, smirk only growing wider as you squirm beneath him to no avail. “Aww, aren’t you so cute trying to get away from me?”

“This isn’t helping your case of not being an asshole.” If you can’t fight him off physically, you can at least be satisfied a bit by digging your heels into the dirt with your words. The more time you spend being silly with him, the more you understand the joy that he finds in pushing people’s buttons.

Beetlejuice doesn’t respond, and you know him well enough at this point to recognize this as his tell-tale warning sign of impending mischief. Wordlessly, he breaks the locked gaze that he had going with you to look down at the rest of your trapped form. Before you can think of a witty remark, he moves almost faster than you can perceive to press his lips to your neck and blows a raspberry against your skin. Taken completely off guard by this vicious attack, you let out a shriek and begin wiggling around to try and loosen yourself from his grasp, legs kicking but unable to aid you in your escape. He rewards your efforts with a sickly sweet smile and another attack.

“You-hu-hu dick!” Your insult only spreads his smile wider, which in turn makes you want to get out of his grip and launch a counter-attack even more.

“Wow, what a nasty little breather you are. Maybe if you took back your hurtful words, I’d stop.” He demonstrates his ruthlessness by giving you another raspberry right where your neck meets your collarbone, his scruffy beard tickling horribly against your skin and driving you wild. You’re unable to hide your laughter at this point, both at the sensations and his silly antics.

“F-fine! Fine! I take it back! You are NOT an asshole at all! Happy?”

He brings his head back up to brush noses with you, a self-satisfied and victorious grin plastered to his face. “Was that so hard?”

You wrinkle your nose at him as you struggle to catch your breath, trying not to show on your face the overwhelming fondness that is currently washing over you. He’s unspeakably cute above you, delighting in a silly little game, while simultaneously straddling you in a way that’s making it even harder to settle your racing heart. With nothing witty to say, you crane your head forward to lock lips with him again, savoring the sweetness of his joyful surprise. Kissing you does at least make him let go of your hands, his need to touch you outweighing his dedication to your game. Your hands come up to grab at his hair, their new favorite spot to rest, as your kisses intensify. Beetlejuice makes a low noise and slips his long tongue into your mouth, the still-odd but welcome intrusion making you groan lightly. Part of you hopes you never fully get used to the demon’s otherworldly qualities, hopes that the way your stomach flips in surprise at feeling sharp fangs graze against your lips never dulls. You move your lips back against him with this thought in mind.

Knock, knock, knock. The sound of a rapping at your closed but unlocked door immediately pulls the two of you apart, Beetlejuice wearing a sour face at the interruption.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in or what?” The easily recognizable voice of Lydia causes you to practically throw Beetlejuice off from on top of you, and he ungracefully falls off of the bed and onto his backside with a thump. You find yourself caught between mouthing “sorry”’s and waving him away from your bed and hopefully getting across the message to act natural.

“S-sure Lydia, come on in!” You try to straighten yourself out to look presentable and inconspicuous within the next few seconds, too preoccupied with smoothing over your clothes to even check to see what Beetlejuice is doing. Before you have another moment to prepare, the door swings open and in walks the goth teen that you’ve been sharing a house with for the past few months.

“Hey, Delia just wanted me to ask if you’d help with…what are you doing?” Lydia eyes you up from the doorway as you sit with your hands folded politely on your bed.

“Oh, you know, just folding clothes!” You speak in a tone that feels far too cheery coming out of your mouth, but it’s too late for a do-over.

“Uh-huh.” Lydia crosses her arms, her eyes wandering to the knocked-over tower of once-folded clothes next to you that have since become wildly strewn about during your scrap and ensuing makeout session with Beetlejuice. “You’re doing a pretty bad job at it.”

You mentally facepalm. “Ha, yeah, I guess I am…” Your voice trails off awkwardly and you pray for this conversation to be over.

Lydia raises an eyebrow, clearly picking up the odd atmosphere but hopefully not exactly sure where it’s coming from. “Alright.” Her eyes flit over to where you last saw Beetlejuice heading, and only now do you think to follow her gaze and see what he’s up to, to which you immediately wish you hadn’t. He’s floating multiple feet away from your bed, reclined in the air like he doesn’t have a care in the world, licking his finger and flipping through a book that is clearly upside down.

“Oh, hi Lyds! What’s up?” He does finger guns at her, the book still floating in place without his touch.

Lydia furrows her brow. “Dude, what’s wrong with your hair?” You snap back into reality with this statement as you realize that BJ’s hair is a gradient of light pink to a slightly darker fuchsia starting at his roots, probably not a color that anyone has really seen on him but you.

Beetlejuice’s face falls. “Uh. Well. You know.” He visibly struggles for words. “Romance novel. Heh.” He gestures to the book, which very prominently reads INTRO TO PHYSICS in bold letters across the front, not to mention the fact that it is still very much upside down.

Lydia nods as if that clears it all up. “Ahh, riiiight.” She turns back to you. “Anyways, Delia wanted me to ask if you’d help cut vegetables or whatever for dinner…”

You clasp your hands together as if nothing on this Earth could bring you more joy than slicing up some carrots for Delia. “Oh, of course! Tell her I’ll be right down, thanks for relaying the message!” You also do finger guns at her for no reason.

“Will do, weirdo.” She turns on her heels and shuts the door behind her without another word. You and Beetlejuice both let out a sigh of relief and you practically collapse back on the bed.

Beetlejuice floats over and collapses next to you, his body facing the opposite direction of yours. “Okay, so she definitely knows something is up.”

***

Those carrots never could’ve seen it coming, I chopped them up so well. You take a bite of the steaming hot home-cooked dinner that you lightly contributed to with satisfaction. The rest of the family eats at their usual seats at the table, conversing about whatever random topics to fill the silence between bites of food. Adam and Barbara have plates of food as well, despite not physically needing to eat. You figure it’s more of an etiquette thing with them. Beetlejuice also has his own plate, but it’s one of those children’s paper plates with an animal face on it, which is the only thing he is allowed to use ever since he proved that he cannot be trusted with the nice glass plates. You can feel his eyes on you as you eat. He’s possibly the least subtle person in the world, living or non.

“So yeah, I think I singed my eyebrows mostly off but I did get an A on my chemistry project, so it’s all cool,” Lydia concludes her story for the family, which you realize that you were accidentally zoned out for the majority of.

“Hey, careful, we don’t need any more ghosts around here!” Adam jokes, making a ribbing motion towards Lydia in the most over-the-top dad-like way.

Charles laughs through a bite of mashed potatoes. “Well, that’s certainly one way to pass a class! You’re absolutely your mother’s daughter, Lydia. You know, Emily pulled nearly that same trick when she was still in college. She’d be proud to know you’re carrying on the family legacy!”

Lydia smiles, a genuine smile that she doesn’t try to hide or diminish. “Heh, wow. That’s pretty awesome, dad.” She finishes the last bite of her meal and glances over at Beetlejuice. “Wow BJ, you haven’t even touched your slop yet.”

Beetlejuice jolts as he’s called out, and spares a look down at his plate. “Slop” is the right word for it, considering that he seems to have just poured all of his food into one big mixed-up pile like a nasty lunatic, the carrots indistinguishable from the meat and all of them lost in a sea of gravy together. Without a word, he unhinges his jaw like a snake and tosses the entire concoction down his gullet whole, swallowing everything (yes, including the plate itself) in one bite with an exaggerated gulp sound effect. He gives a thumbs up at Lydia with an unchanged blank expression, which doesn’t exactly do much to make him seem more normal.

Lydia makes a weird face at him. “Okay man, what gives? You’ve been acting weird as hell lately, and not your regular weird. You gonna let us in on what’s up or keep being all cagey?”

In your peripheral vision, you see the Maitlands immediately seem to decide that their plates just magically became the most interesting things in the room, and very worthy of their close scrutiny. You feel stuck between saying something to help out the petrified-looking demon across the table from you and staying silent to avoid further incriminating yourself.

Delia’s singsong voice breaks you from your trance. “Okay! I am uncomfortable with the energy at this dinner table and would like to move on…!” She clasps her hands together whimsically. “Now then, I have a new and exciting plan. Let’s clean up these dishes and all watch a m-“

“I slept with (Y/N).”

…Horror. That’s the only word that you can possibly use to describe your emotions in this exact moment. And from where you assume your soul is now floating outside of your body, you can see that you’re not alone, as Beetlejuice is currently the epicenter of horrified looks from everyone in the room. He slowly turns to look at you, his head seeming as though it should be making a pathetic creaking noise. His eyes are stretched so wide that they look like they could bulge out at any moment, looking dead ahead with his lips pulled tight into a long, flat line. Without a word being uttered from anyone at the table, he begins to sink into the floor. Literally. Beetlejuice slowly phases straight through the chair, into the floor, and out of sight. And just like that, he is gone. You distantly wonder if you should start cursing his name or if you’re just jealous that he has the ability to do that right about now.

Lydia finally pipes up. “Wow, you guys are shit at keeping secrets.”

***

After what you can confidently call the most awkward family conversation of your entire life, you finally make it back to your room and shut the door behind you, slumping against it in defeat. That was NOT how I originally wanted that conversation to go. I’m lucky that Lydia, Charles, and Delia were pretty chill about the whole deal, all things considered.

A rustling from your vintage armoire (perks of a pre-furnished room) snaps you back into reality. You take a tentative step towards the closed brown doors and press a hand to the old wood. The rustling stops abruptly.

“…Beetlejuice?” You call out softly, drumming your fingers against the door in a pseudo-knock. A small rustle answers you, and nothing more.

You move your fingers to lift the latch lock into its unlocked position and slowly creak both doors open. There, under your waterfall of hanging clothes, lies Beetlejuice: curled up in a little ball, hair a deep shade of purple, looking up at you with puffy dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, before you can even get a word out. “I’m stupid. Good for nothin’. I ruined your plan to tell everyone about us nicely.” You open your mouth, but he holds up a hand dramatically. “N-no need to say anything. I’ll go be a disappointment in someone else’s boudoir.” He materializes a small bindle over his shoulder and moves his hand up to snap himself somewhere else.

“Hey, wait, don’t go.” You gently grab his hand that he was about use to snap himself away, more of a symbolic gesture to stay than anything. “You’re not any of those things, and I don’t want you to leave.”

“I…” A look of slight surprise graces his forlorn face at both your words and touch. His earnest eyes seem to be searching your own for any sign of lies, and, finding none, he lowers his hand from your touch and disappears the bindle. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I really didn’t.” His voice has such a vulnerable touch to it, like a dog who had grown accustomed to being kicked and couldn’t find it in himself to expect any different. It truly breaks your heart to see, despite the lingering sense of embarrassment from dinner.

You sit outside of the large dresser, crossing your legs and leaning against its frame. “I know, bug. I’m not mad at you. I mean, I would’ve preferred maybe a softer phrasing if we had any control, but Lydia put you on the spot and we hadn’t even talked about how we would say it. It’s okay.” You bring your hand up to gently pet his hair, testing his reception to physical comfort right now. You get your answer when he leans into your hand with his entire head almost immediately.

“No kidding…kid had our number, babes. Or at least mine. But hey, least I didn’t say it like we bumped uglies or anything, I was pretty close and what I did say was all else I could think of right then. Mind couldn’t keep up with my mouth.” He lets out a labored sigh and smushes more of his face up against your hand like a particularly affectionate cat.

You give a small grin at his head bumps of love. “Yeah, well I have firsthand experience with how fast your mouth can be, so that checks out.”

A giggle that Beetlejuice couldn’t quite hold back slips out, a melodic sound to you. “Making sex jokes isn’t fair. You know I’ll always laugh at sex jokes.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I do know it.” You sit up on your haunches and lean in to lightly pepper his face with tiny kisses, only worsening the demon’s grip on his composure. The giggles that start to pour out of him uncontrollably are infectious, and you quickly find yourself unable to hold back your own. You continue your attack, enjoying the view as you watch tips of light pink begin to crawl up a few of his purple hair strands without his knowledge. After a good bit of shared laughter at your unrelenting kisses, Beetlejuice finally catches your mouth with his own. The feeling of his smile against your lips is sweeter than candy, and succeeds at making you forget all of your troubles for as long as it lasts. You suspect that he feels the same, considering that you are always, without fail, the first one to break away from every kiss due to your inconvenient need for oxygen. If it were up to him, you two might not ever come up for air.

When you pull back from him breathlessly, Beetlejuice’s eyes remain fixed on you, soft and almost perplexed as he searches for something unknowable in your expression. “Why do you love me back?” His voice comes out as a whisper despite the two of you being alone, as if he’s frightened what the walls of the home will think upon hearing his weakness.

“Oh, Beetlejuice…” You feel your loving gaze that remains locked onto him become tinged with layers of sadness, pitying the man who just can’t see himself the way you do. You reason that the best you can do is try to paint him a picture of your vision. “Where to even begin…? I can’t even say when or where I first fell in love with you, it’s like, I just realized one day that it had already happened to me without asking my permission. Yeah, I was really physically attracted to you, as we’re both well aware by now, but it’s more than that. I never wanted you to be just a hookup without anything past that.” Your hand finds its way to his own, an anchor to real life as you struggle to put your feelings to words in a way that will help him. “Beetlejuice, I love spending time with you. You’re the funniest person I know, and I’ve never had a dull moment with you. I could spend years watching bad movies and pranking the Maitlands with you and never get tired of your company. And, maybe my favorite thing about you is, try as you might sometimes, you can never actually hide how much you care about the people you love. I mean, you and Lydia squabble, but that kid is so important to you, I can see it. If she ever came home and said a teacher was picking on her, you’d probably go light their house on fire for being mean to your friend. That’s, like, the most attractive thing ever, if we’re being real here.” You’re blushing red hot at the earnest nature of your own words but do your best to keep your eyes from darting away bashfully. “Look, I…I wish I could say it better, so that you wouldn’t have to feel like you’re not good enough ever again. I wish I could fix things for you with pure strength of will, because I would be able to do it in a heartbeat. It kills me to know that you don’t always see yourself as worthwhile and lovable. I know you have stuff to work through, and honestly, so do I, but I wanna be with you to see it through. I’m all in, baby, you’re never getting rid of me. And I really do love you, so, so much.”

When you finally can savor your breath again after talking for so long without much pause and really take Beetlejuice in, you see two dark eyes looking back at you through a stream of tears. While one hand is still holding onto yours, the other is pressed up against his mouth tightly by his palm, as though to keep any sounds locked deep inside of him. Even so, he can’t quite stop a small sob from shaking his body, then another.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you attempt to soothe, craning your head to rest against his side, your chin grazing his lap as you look up at him. A more intimate touch, but not domineering and overwhelming, you hope.

Beetlejuice lets go of your hand to wipe at his eyes frantically, trying to clear away tears as more just keep flowing out of him. Now that he’s let one sob slip through, he seems to have fully lost his control as his body is wracked by more and more against his will. “I-I’m sorry, sorry…”

“Please don’t be.” You keep your head pressed against his side in a way that you hope is comforting to him. For a few moments, the two of you just sit there without speaking. You, praying that what you said was worded correctly, and Beetlejuice, trying and failing to stifle his weeping for so long and so hard that it eventually just dissolves into quiet hiccups.

After a bit of silence, Beetlejuice finally seems to calm down. “Wow, that was really embarrassing.” He speaks still lower than usual, but closer to his normal register.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry, that was supposed to make you feel better,” you sigh, bringing your head back up to be level with him (more like a bit below him, as the armoire’s bottom shelf is slightly above the ground level where you sit).

“No, s’okay. I think that was good for me to hear from you, probably. It was just…a lot. ‘Specially for someone who tries to avoid dealing with emotional crap as much as possible.” He turns to look at you, really look at you, for the first time since he broke down crying. “N-not saying what you said to me was crap! Not at all, don’t get me wrong. Just kinda…overwhelming, getting told so much good stuff about me at one time. Not used to it, kinda freaked me out in the moment. Buncha criticism at once, sure, that’s an average Tuesday, but that’s different.”

You smile lightly at his words, taking note of the purple beginning to fade from his hair and being replaced with his usual green, in addition to streaks of light pink. “I meant everything I said, y’know. Those are just a few of the reasons that you’re stuck with me, I could give you a list triple that size if I had some ample prep time and a better grasp on flowery love language.”

“Heh, you are too cute. C’mere.” Beetlejuice grabs your entire torso clumsily by wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up and into the armoire, crashing your entire body against his lounging form. The two of you go from fully separated to tangled together in a tight space very quickly, leaving you to yelp in surprise as you try to adjust your positioning without much room to do so. The fact that the bottom portion of the armoire has a lip that comes up a few inches in front of where the doors close is all that separates you from losing your balance and falling right out. Kind of a miracle we’re not breaking right through this! Not sure if that’s demon magic or if this old thing is just sturdy as hell.

Try as you might, your legs being all tangled up and too long for the space keeps you from properly lifting yourself off of him for more than a second. “Well, I’m right here now, bug. Better?” As if to punctuate this, you lose your bracing and drop yourself with a thunk back onto his chest, which shakes below you with laughter at your predicament.

“Oh yeah babes, nice to see you still can’t keep yourself off of me.” Beetlejuice snickers, but does help your slippery ass out by pushing your chest backwards a bit, making you sit up more securely and straddle him on your knees.

You look down at him from your improved vantage point, taking in his mischievous little expression and wondering how long that’s been plastered on his face. “And just what are you thinking about right now?”

He meets your questioning eyes, sly smile only growing. “Oh, nothing. Just that I’ve never had sex in a boudoir before.”

“Baby, I can barely fit in here with you, I have no idea how sex could even take place in here.” As you speak, you also become aware of the clothing hanging just above your head, and do giggle to yourself at the idea of repeatedly smacking your head against a pair of pants in this scenario.

“Well that’s ‘cuz you’re not using your imagination, my love.” You feel his hands move down to grope at your ass as he teasingly enunciates your little pet name. “It’s fine though, it is a little shallow for two in here.” With that, he poofs the two of you onto your own bed, and you sprawl out gratefully on top of him, stretching your cramped limbs out.

“Sorry bug, my human body can’t be contorted that way for very long like yours can.” Your joints pop in relief as you go full starfish on top of your demon boyfriend, snuggling your head up against his chest. “I’ll do anything else you want, as long as I’m not smushed into a box to fuck.”

“Anything?” The tone in his voice makes it seem like his ears have perked up at your words in extreme interest.

You lift your head off of his chest to look him in the eye, a playful glint in your own. “Ah, it sounds to me like you might already have an idea here.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes quickly dart away, his cheeks flushed pink. “Ah, I mean- not, y’know, necessarily per se…” His defensive mumbles fade into unintelligible hums as he twiddles his fingers nervously.

“You’re cute when you’re shy.” You bump your forehead against his, forcing him to look at you since your eyes are mere inches from his own. “Y’know, it’s just about the only time you don’t have a clever comeback.” The mumbles that he makes in response only prove your point and make you giggle, pulling your head back and rolling over to lay next to him. “But really, BJ, you can tell me. You know I won’t laugh or think you’re weird….er than usual.”

He fidgets with the fabric of the sheets beneath him. “I know you won’t, I just…” He falls silent, seeming at war with himself over what to do. Being this coy about matters of sex is extremely odd for Beetlejuice, which of course, only piques your interest on what he could be so hesitant about even more.

You place your hand on his bicep, wishing that he’d ditched the classic striped suit before the conversation started so you could feel his cool skin underneath. “Hey, I know I’ve mostly taken the lead the few times we’ve had sex since getting together, but it doesn’t have to be that way every time. You know I’m willing to try different stuff if it’s with you. The real question is, what do you want to do?”

“I mean- I just like whatever you like, you know th-“

“Beetlejuice.” His eyes finally flick back over to make contact with yours, the power of you saying his full name is enough to get his attention on you and his mind out of his own thoughts a little. Your eyes soften at his hesitance. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Your thoughts matter to me. Promise.”

He seems to visibly soothe under your reassurances, though his face is still a bit twisted up. “I just- I mean, I guess I’ve always wanted to…” He drapes an open palm over his red-hot face, ever the drama queen.

“Yeah?”

“Maybe try, like, I dunno…hunting you down like a demon would and fucking you ‘til you forget your own name…” He chances a single glance at you through his fingers. “Something like that?” His words were spoken at about three times his normal speed, but you made sure not to miss a single syllable of that confession.

“Oh? Is that so?” You drag your words out in a sweet tone, relishing the way that he peeks at you from behind his strategically draped hand. “You wanna give me the full haunted house demon treatment before fucking me?”

Beetlejuice sits fully up, no longer able to stay reclined back on the bed or hide his enthusiasm as he talks. “Yes, yes, God yes, please, I h-haven’t thought of anything else in so long…! I wanna use my powers on you too, y’know, only if you’d be okay with that…” The floodgates have opened, and his eyes peer down at you with a vicious mix of lust and approval-seeking.

You meet his gaze with a half-lidded smile, sitting up to mirror his position. “Abso-fucking-lutely. Okay, don’t even say too much now, I’ve just decided I want you to completely surprise me on this.”

Uncertainty shrouds his expression. “You’re really okay with being scared by me, like that?”

You grin at his concern for you, internally cooing over how cute he’s being about such a lewd idea. “Baby, I hope I feel more scared than I’ve ever been before and powerless against such a big, scary demon, too. I know you respect me and wouldn’t cross any boundary that I didn’t want crossed, especially since we just the other day talked about the specifics in that department. We can use the same stoplight safeword setup as we have before, that seemed to work pretty well. So, think you can do that for me? Make me feel like I’m at the mercy of some terrifying ghost haunting my house before making me cum my brains out?”

He suppresses a groan, from far deep down in his chest. “Fuck, y-yeah, I think I can do that. Y’know, as a favor to your horny self, of course. Since you asked and all.”

You let out a giggle at his antics. “What, are you trying to tell me that it doesn’t make you horny to think about? That doesn’t sound like the Beej I know. I’m pretty sure you were at half-mast yesterday when I was just washing a zucchini in the kitchen.”

He grumbles defensively, crossing his arms but leaning in to push his shoulder into yours. “Well, try not to wash it so sluttily next time, I dunno…” His eyes dart away in embarrassment at being called out. “And hey, just a warning, but you might not be able to keep up with me if I go all-out. Remember when I told you that demons have a refractory period of like, 3.5 seconds? I wasn’t exaggerating, for once. So don’t be afraid to tell me when your little mortal body can’t take anymore.”

You have the ill-advised gall to laugh at this. “I’m not too worried about it. I’ve never had trouble keeping up with your needy ass before, so I think I’ll survive.”

Beetlejuice shrugs at your nonchalance. “Hm, if you say so. Just remember that I said it later.” He leans forward to rest his chin on his hands, as though he were preparing to gossip in bed with you. “Now, the real question is, when are we gonna get freak-ay? We do not have the amount of privacy that I’m sure you’ll want for this sorta event very often in this crowded-ass house.”

You lean forward to mirror his pose, both of you now looking like girls sharing secrets at a sleepover. “Well, I happen to know that everyone is planning to go out all day tomorrow. Including the Maitlands for once, since Lydia found out that they can possess objects and tag along for outside adventures Annabelle-style last month. Which I’d say, works out great for a human that will be home alone in the evening with the whole house to themself, eerily quiet and empty. Sure hope nothing happens.” Your demon’s pupils quickly become big round pools of inky blackness that engulf the surrounding brown iris as you say this, his body clearly giving away his interest in this idea. You flash him a knowing smirk, feeling the urge to be mean and tease him just a bit more than you should rear its head. “Think you can be patient enough to wait for it, or do you need me to give you a quick blowjob now to tide you over? I mean, I’m gonna make you wait either way, but I think I’d like to hear you ask nicely for it. Just for fun.”

As you finish speaking, Beetlejuice’s entire posture shifts in a way that you’ve never seen before. You swear that he looks slightly taller after adjusting himself to look directly at you, eyes narrowed but pupils still overtaking all of the surrounding color, fully locked on to your smaller form. “Oh-ho, my sweet, foolish little breather. I’d be more worried about yourself for the time being if I were you.” His self-satisfied smile shows off his fangs, looking even pointier than usual pressed against his bottom lip. “Now, I know you said you wanna be surprised, but I will say just one thing.” He brings a clawed hand to your cheek, stroking the soft skin gently, as though you were made of porcelain. “Make sure that tomorrow night, you’re wearing clothes that you don’t mind being ripped to shreds.” His words, spoken at a deep and salacious growl that is new to you, send a spark from the top of your spine that travels down through your entire lower body. Your visible shiver causes Beetlejuice’s slight smile to become a full grin at your reaction, and you nearly miss the intertwined streak of red and fuchsia swiftly sear its way through his hair.

You struggle to find the words to respond, his ability to turn the tables so quick has left you utterly reeling. “Uh, yeah, I can- I can do that.” And we’ve barely even begun. Maybe I really have bitten off more than I can chew.

“Good,” Beetlejuice purrs, stroking your face with claws that seem to be growing sharper by the second against your cheek. He runs them under your jawline by their tips, little pinpricks that tickle but also threaten to break the skin if he were to apply any pressure. “Oh, and uh, one more thing, my love.”

You can’t help you gulp that escapes you as his thumb and forefinger grab hold of your chin and hold you in place. “Y-yes?”

Anticipation dances behind his pretty brown eyes forebodingly. “If you run and hide from me, you’d better not let me catch you.” And just like that, it’s as though you blinked and he disappeared from your sight in an instant.

***

You adjust yourself on the living room sofa, flipping through TV channels absentmindedly. You have certainly not forgotten what Beetlejuice said to you before disappearing. On top of that, he’s made you a hyper-vigilant mess by not showing up again for the rest of the previous night and into this evening, the longest that you’ve gone without at least a pop-in visit from him since getting together. Everyone else was still gone for the day, having a lovely time out on the town, you assume. They had all said how bad they felt for leaving you behind on a family fun day, but you had fibbed a bit and told them not to worry since you were too busy with work to plan a full day out right now. Work, indeed.

A loud clap of thunder interrupts your thoughts, making you jump in surprise before sighing in relief. Hope the family isn’t getting rained out of their fun, whatever they’re doing out there. The wind is whistling outside as rain whips itself across the house with no signs of stopping. The pounding of the rain against the rooftops was creating a nice dull melody that you would to relax to, that is, if you were capable of relaxing right now. You wonder whether Beetlejuice might have any kind of influence over the weather or if the universe was just on his side for tonight. You’d by lying if you said you weren’t on edge, feeling like you’ve been standing on the edge of a precarious cliff as soon as the family left the house. He must know that you’ve been home alone for hours now, and yet he still hasn’t appeared. Unless, of course, he’s hiding in the house right now, invisible to your human eyes whenever and wherever he wants to be. As far as you know, he could be standing inches away from you, and you would be none the wiser until he chose to make himself known.

You vaguely regret the fact that you’d bent to your impulses and teased at making him wait for sex, for a multitude of reasons. A pent-up and horny Beetlejuice is an unpredictable Beetlejuice, especially when you throw in the fact that you asked him to be as rough and monstrous as possible tonight into the mix. Dread isn’t exactly the right word for what you feel, but it isn’t quite as small and easily explainable an emotion as mere anticipation either. You want him to appear more than anything, and yet all of the hair on your arms stands on end when you imagine what he’ll do when he does show up. You’ve been frustratingly wet for hours at the idea of it, unable to focus on anything else, but you haven’t touched yourself out of fear of him silently watching to see if you succumb to your own desire again, needy and impatient and desperate all because of him. The last thing he needs is such a monumental ego boost. If his goal is to play mind games and get inside my head, it’s working. You bitterly admire the restraint he’s displaying that you never would’ve imagined in a million years that he possessed.

Suddenly, another boom of thunder shakes the house, taking the lights and TV out with it and drenching you in darkness. A power outage. Awesome. Okay, stay calm. You feel around the couch cushions for your phone, but it’s nowhere to be found. Shit, I must’ve left my phone upstairs, so no dice on that flashlight for now… You quickly brainstorm an option that doesn’t feature you having to crawl up a staircase in complete darkness. Oh wait, I think Delia left some candles downstairs the other day after a long terrace meditation session! Standing up and trying to keep your balance as your eyes adjust to the sudden lack of light overtaking the house, you try to remember where the candles were last being stored. I think I saw them last when Delia was putting them in that kitchen drawer by the sink…I think.

Unsteadily, you step away from the couch and proceed in the direction of the kitchen. You’re starting to be able to make out general shapes of items in your path, but the darkness is so all-consuming that it can be hard to tell what’s real and what isn’t. You tiptoe around what could be a chair or just a dark shadow in the shape of one, taking care to reach out and touch the doorway to the kitchen with the delicate tips of your fingers before gently creaking it open. It makes far more sound in the process of opening than you would like, which you proceed to feel silly about worrying over considering that Beetlejuice is most likely not even here if he hasn’t made himself known yet. You feel you can pretty confidently conclude that he wouldn’t have this much patience, not when you’re so clearly right out in the open and defenseless.

With the door full and loudly open, you slip through and into the main kitchen area. Feeling around for the correct cabinet, you finally reach the one you were hunting for and pull the drawer out slowly. Using mostly touch, you feel around inside for the distinct texture of the long wax candle that Delia was holding in your memory, your hand skittering around the menagerie of unseeable items until your fingers finally graze its smooth surface. Your feeling of success is immediately extinguished when you hear a dull thud from the living room through the door, like the sound of something heavy being placed on the floor just a bit too quickly. At this noise, your hair immediately stands on end and you shrink towards the ground on instinct. You can’t quite see through the door at the angle you’re at, but you keep your eyes glued on the doorframe anyway. After a few moments of only utter silence following, you slowly rise back to full height. Maybe I am on edge enough to be imagining things. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard a phantom sound while I’m home alone that turned out to be nothing.

Steeling your nerves, you return your hands to the drawer to feel around for a candle lighter, keeping your body faced towards the doorway and your back facing nothing but an empty corner. The rain continues to pound against the house, lessening your sharp hearing abilities a bit with its unyielding dull roar. It’s taking you longer to find the lighter now, considering how you’re attempting to be careful to not disturb the various items in the drawer so as to make the least amount of sound possible. But the mixture of being unable to find the lighter and being on high alert from the random noise is making your heart race, and making you increasingly sloppy in your work of rustling around the drawer. You’re actually beginning to pant as you try to quicken the speed of your hands, ears ringing as you search fruitlessly for this godforsaken lighter and become only worse and worse at the task. You swear you see something move in the kitchen out of the corner of your eye, but nothing has come through the door and all of the shadows feel as though they’re closing in and grabbing at you, so you ignore your mind’s alarm bells and begin rifling through the drawer with reckless abandon. You feel as though you’re reaching a breaking point of some sort when finally, finally, you feel the cool plastic of the lighter beneath your touch. You let a shaky breath out, grasping the lighter and clicking in the button to produce a small flame.

Just as the flame sparks to life, lighting up your world just that small but significant bit, you feel your stomach drop in a way that tells you something is deeply, deeply wrong. It’s an old gut feeling, one so ancient and instinctual that it feels utterly impossible to ignore. The flame goes out, despite you still holding the button down. Before you have a chance to truly take this emotion in, you feel an unnatural chill that starts at your neck and runs all the way down your spine. You reach up to cover your neck reflexively, only for the same sensation to hit your fingers and the exposed bits of neck around it, closer and more intense. It’s only now that you realize what exactly is causing this chill against you. Breath. Cold, inhuman breath. A flat, unconvincing charade of your own breathing, carving a space for itself in the uncanny valley due to how incorrect it feels. Not only is it cold, but the breaths don’t have proper breaks between them, and they shift from being far too short to far too long to ever pass as natural. You realize upon this consideration that you’ve been frozen for more time than you meant to be, and quickly whip your body around to come face-to-face with the source of this “breathing.” But when you turn around, you’re merely greeted by empty air, same as it was before. Except that now, you feel the same breath on your neck from behind you again, causing you to once again try to turn fast enough to catch the source. And again, you fail.

Suddenly, you see a ripple in the shadows in front of you and feel a pressure push itself against your body. You scream on impulse at the contact and jump backwards, dropping your wax candle and accidentally knocking a bowl that had been left on the kitchen counter to the floor in the process, where it shatters on impact. With no time to react, you feel yourself pushed up against the same wall you had fearfully jumped towards by the same heavy force as before. You’re rendered completely immobile in seconds, some invisible, freezing cold strength holding you in place against the wall. Your arms are pinned up by your head, with most of the presence being on your torso to keep you in place. On top of the otherworldly force, you feel phantom hands begin to travel all over your body, too many to count. Over your throat, your chest, your legs, your ass. Scratching down your arms, you can barely see in the darkness as small red marks appear on them out of thin air. Without any warning, you feel something wet that you cannot see make contact with your exposed collarbone and drag its way up your neck, deliciously slow, as though you were being savored. At the same time, something sharp digs into both of your thighs at once, five little pinpricks of that grace the underside of each leg as they are lifted up and into the air, dangling uselessly. You can’t tell if blood is being drawn, but it hurts enough that you wouldn’t be surprised if it was. Hurts so good. Hurts so good.

“B-Beetlejuice…” Your breathy moan pierces the otherwise silent room, and the wet appendage is pulled away from your throat slowly and deliberately. The pinpricks are lifted from your thighs and your feet come back to rest on the ground.

The shadows once again ripple, but this time, you can finally see him there, inches away from your face. His usually soft and pleasant features are so sharp and monstrous upon his self-reveal that it makes you jump a bit just to see him. He’s tall, unmistakably taller than his usual height, and looming over you with the hunched posture of a recently-transformed werewolf, some creature who was all bent out of its natural shape. Everything otherworldly about him is exaggerated, you notice, as your eyes rake over his fangs, which have become long enough to look like they could seriously do some damage in addition to his other usually-normal teeth looking sharp enough to hurt you as well. His claws are filed into sharp points, his tongue appears to have developed a fork at the tip on top of its impressive length, and his pupils have completely shifted into small black slits. A bright lightning strike pours through the large kitchen window and lights up the house for but a second to reveal his changed form more clearly to you, the black and white stripes covering his form reminding you of the hypnotically beautiful warning markings of a venomous creature. In the momentary flash, his eyes, mere inches away from yours, reflect back the light and shine bright white like the eyes of some nocturnal animal. The expression in those eyes is wild and feral, and while you’ve certainly seen Beetlejuice’s expression full of desperation and lust, this is the first time that you’ve felt like he’s ready to pounce and take whatever he wants from you. Not to mention the mixture of red and fuchsia lighting up his hair even in this darkness, a combination that you’ve never seen overtake him before.

“Mmm, I could cum from your delicious screams alone,” his voice rasps next to your ear, having an additional deep growl to his every word that you’re certain only a demon could produce, his usual tone mixing with something darker layered beneath it. It rumbles against your skin and causes another shiver to shoot up your spine, making your entire body shudder under his hold. He gives a look that you can assume is deep satisfaction with himself, pressing his face to your neck and inhaling deeply. “Gimme a color, babes.”

You gulp, not prepared to force words out of your dry throat. “G-green.”

You feel him smile against your skin. “Good. You tell me if that changes.” He pulls his head back to really take you in. You must look like a wreck, eyes clouded over with terror and desire, already clearly a horny mess from hours of waiting. Whatever state you’re in, it must please Beetlejuice to see, as he can’t seem to stop raking his eyes up and down your figure. “Okay, you want monster, how about this…I’m gonna give you ten seconds to decide whether you’re gonna run and hide like prey, or stand here and take it like a champ. Your call, but I will say this: if you can successfully hide from me, I’ll make it worth your while. This night can still become all about you, I can put all my focus into getting you off like a good little demon. But, if you decide to run, and I catch you, I’m gonna use you. I’m gonna make you get me off again and again and again, and I’m gonna keep fucking you like my own little personal toy ‘til I’ve used every last little bit of you up. However long that takes.” There’s no hiding the bulge that rubs up against your thigh as he lays out this last part of the agreement. “So. Deal?”

Your mouth runs dry at his proposal, but not out of distaste, or any true fear. It’s something much more entrancing that holds you in place, warmth pooling between your legs before you finally speak, your voice sounding far less stable than you’d like. “Deal.”

A devilish smirk makes its way across Beetlejuice’s features, and he puts his hand out to shake on it. Even when he’s taking charge, it seems he can’t help but still be at least a little bit of a dork about it. You reach out to take his offered hand and he squeezes your own with more force than necessary before moving both of your hands up and down emphatically. Satisfied, he lets you go for the moment. “Your ten seconds begin now.”

It’s not even a question when you tear off towards the living room, through the kitchen door which swings aimlessly behind you due to the rush of your swift exit. Behind you, you can hear harsh laughter growing distant as you run. Your eyes quickly search your surroundings as you sprint carefully across the length of the dining room (at least, as much as you can safely sprint in this darkness). The house has only so many rooms, but is quite spread out and full of potential objects to conceal yourself behind, or under. The problem is, you have mere seconds to get into place and your brain is currently mixed up in a swirling whirlpool of arousal and pure prey drive that is greatly affecting your ability to locate a proper hiding space. You have no idea if it’s been one second or nine seconds by the time you reach the couch that you had been sitting on not too long ago, and hopelessly try not to lose yourself to panic as you scan the room at light speed. Both the Deetz and Maitland families kept the house fairly free of unnecessary clutter, which on any other day, would be a perk to living in their shared house. Not so much when a demon is hunting you.

Just as you’re starting to get overwhelmed by the feeling that you’ve lost before you’ve even begun, you notice that there’s a small space between one of the living room sofa chairs and the wall that would probably be just big enough for you to squeeze behind. Having no other option readily available, you practically hurl yourself into the crevice. You harshly smack your right forearm on the armrest of the cushioned chair on the way down but pay it no mind, draping a blanket that had been sitting on the lap of the chair to hang slightly over your head so as to better conceal yourself. Just as you finish adjusting your hiding place, you hear the door to the kitchen slam with terrifying power.

“Oho, my little breather, don’t you know that the quickest way to get a predator to chase you is to run?” His voice is ice cold yet tinged with a bit of humor, but whatever the joke is, you’re clearly not in on it. He’s laughed at you plenty before, but it’s usually benign and lightly teasing, not the hissing, cruel laughter that seems to encircle and taunt you now. You hear footsteps begin to fall, loud stomps that seem to echo through the room and make it difficult to pinpoint which direction he’s headed. That is, until they start to head distinctly closer.

You try to calm your breathing, which is still heavy and labored due to your mad dash from the kitchen. Your racing heart certainly isn’t doing you any favors in this regard, only adding to your stifled gasps for air. You put a hand over your own mouth, doing your best to quiet your stupid human noises as the sound of your demon’s footsteps grow closer and closer. Even as you do, you feel your lungs greedily pleading for more air than you can currently offer, and breathing through your nose does little to quiet your body’s demands. As you sit in your makeshift nest like a quail trying not to startle and take flight, the realization dawns on you much too late that you have been fighting a losing battle. This wasn’t a fair deal, it was a game, and this game was clearly stacked in his favor. You should’ve know you can’t hide from a demon in his own house, not when he hadn’t even put a time limit on the deal! You mentally berate yourself for being so foolish, getting tricked into playing a game that could never be won. Or maybe he didn’t really trick you; maybe on some level, you knew you wanted to lose to him, before losing yourself in him. A deal with a devil you were destined to regret from the start. These thoughts buzz around your mind incessantly, feeling louder than your heartbeat and heavy breathing combined.

A feral growl snaps you from your mind’s tangent, so close to your hiding spot and yet not quite on top of it yet. “It’s no use, I can smell you.” You heard him audibly sniff the air. “Hmm, you smell like fear, the fear of someone who knows just how outmatched and, well, how fucked they really are, but it’s all mixed up with the smell of your lust. I’d never mistake that combination in a million human lifetimes. So sweet, so perfect, you’re making me drool here, doll…”

Your treacherous heart quickens at his words, and you pray that he can’t hear it pounding away in your chest. You’re internally pleading for the pouring rain outside to mask any smaller sounds that you make, but you don’t count on any favors from the universe today.

“Hmm…” You can hear the smile in his voice, and the implications of this worry you greatly. “You know, you act like you’re so mature and unknowable compared to me, but I can read you like a book. I can smell how wet you are for me, how much you’ve been absolutely gagging for it since last night. Y’know, I’m kinda shocked you didn’t just fingerblast yourself on the couch like a needy little whore after I made you wait so long. I know you wanted to. Bet you couldn’t think about anything else all night.”

You feel your face completely flush, biting down on the hand that you’ve been using for covering your mouth to keep from making any sound. He thinks he can get me to break by his words alone, but he’s wrong. I’m not going down that easily. After speaking, you notice that his stomping footsteps have halted, as though he’s standing frozen with his ears pricked up to listen for you to falter. You hold steady, difficult as it is. Without warning, a loud CRASH rings out, making you jolt in place. For a moment, your brain registers it as a thunderclap, before quickly realizing that Beetlejuice had in fact violently flipped over some large piece of furniture in the living room, uprooting it in his search for you. Or just to frighten you. Take your pick.

“I’m starting to get impatient with you, little bird,” he snarls, pacing around the large room and forcefully pushing away seemingly anything that finds itself in his path. “The longer you make me wait, the worse it’ll be when I eventually catch you. And I will catch you. You can’t hide from a demon for very long.” As he speaks, you hear another sound ever so faintly, but one that immediately makes you press your thighs together painfully. The unmistakable sound of Beetlejuice roughly pumping his own cock. It’s increasingly evident that he might be getting off on this even more than you are, which is quite a feat.

You suppress a pleasurable shudder, as well as the desire to join him. Your thighs rub together in a sad attempt to find friction, instead just making you feel more like a desperate caged animal. You hear him let out a small moan from across the room, and can’t help the way that your breath hitches in your throat before coming out as the smallest whine, barely crossing the threshold of your parted lips against your will before you hurriedly clamp your mouth down around it. Even so, you hear Beetlejuice’s various noises immediately stop all at once, before he begins stalking in your direction again. Every footstep that falls on the floor feels as though it’s signaling your end, a dark shadow creeping closer that is just barely visible on the ground and wall to your side, outside of the chair and blanket’s cover. In a surprising moment of clarity, you realize that he will find you within seconds and that you, at this very moment alone, have a jumpstart on choosing whether to fight, flight, or freeze your way out of this situation. Freezing won’t do you any good, and there’s no way you can overpower him, so you resolve to flee to a different part of the house the moment that he spots you. You hope that you can take him by surprise and make him pause long enough to make it out of eyesight and into another hiding spot. It’s not much, but it’s really all you can think of right now.

Before you can make any other considerations, it happens. The chair that was protectively in front of you one moment is completely gone in the next, tossed aside recklessly without even being touched. You’re metaphorically naked to the open air, and without so much as sparing a glance at your monster, you leap away from the wall as though you were shot out of a cannon and sprint full force towards the nearby staircase. You hear a sound of surprise behind you but don’t dare to look back, reaching out to grab onto the handrail before you begin bounding up the stairs, taking two at a time. As you reach the first platform and prepare to turn the corner to climb higher, you hear a loud SLAM that shakes the entire house around you. You turn your head towards the sound on instinct, and see in your peripheral vision that Beetlejuice just rammed his entire body sideways and shoulders-first into the wall at the bottom of the stairs due to how fast and recklessly he was pursuing you, like an animal that forgets to control its speed during a hunt and overshoots its leap. Within the blink of an eye, he’s crouched at the bottom of the stairs in a posture that strikes your fleeing brain as odd, before he begins crawling up the stairs on all fours at alarming speeds, bounding upwards and coming right at you. You swiftly round the corner to the higher set of stairs as he scrambles upwards, but you can tell he’s gaining on you at a pace that makes your stomach drop.

You haul yourself up the last few stairs and into the hallway that most of the bedrooms connect to. It’s a long, narrow hall with multiple doors branching off of it and an impressively tall, lovely gothic window at the end of the hall that stretches nearly from floor to ceiling and beautifully frames the rain, which is still pouring down torrentially outside and running down the glass in thick racing streams. You distantly recognize that your plan to get out of his sight and hide will not be panning out, so you quickly pivot to a new, much worse plan: get to your room and lock the door. Certainly, that will keep the monster out.

With no time to lose, you book it towards your closed door at the very end of the hallway, placed just to the right of the large window. You try to ignore the sound of an inbound demon close behind you, your feet carrying you as fast as they’re able. The hallway seems to stretch unnaturally long in front of you, and you wonder if this is one of Beetlejuice’s illusions or if your brain is just playing tricks on you in your escape. You’re trapped running endlessly as the rain in front of you buffets itself against the window, as though it too was trying to come in and attack you, until finally, your outstretched hand makes contact with your doorknob and moves to turn the knob. It jiggles rigidly against your twisting hand. Locked.

In that moment, you feel clawed hands grab your shoulders and force you down to the ground. You land solidly but not painfully, your face being firmly pushed up against the impeccably clean wood flooring. You struggle against Beetlejuice, but he answers by pressing his entire body against your backside forcefully. Your torso fully pinned down, you instinctively kick your legs and try to bend your arms backwards in an attempt to grab or push him off. Your hand finds his own arm that is braced against the floor, fruitlessly grabbing onto and pulling at it to offset his balance, but finding out very quickly just how strong he truly is. After letting you exert yourself trying to push and pull his arms with both hands, he grabs both of your wrists in one swift motion and holds them both behind your back, trapping you fully in place as you feel his hard cock press up against your ass through your clothes. A mean cackle rings out behind you, where you cannot see. You feel his cold breath wrap itself around your ear.

“Aw, aren’t you so cute trying to get away from me? But what’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the dark? Aren’t you worried that something in here might eat you alive?” His voice and breath are making your head spin, and Beetlejuice only adds to your dizziness when he decides to flip you over without warning to look at him. The large window looms high above his figure, the low light from the storm giving you just enough natural light to see details in his face now. The gleeful madness in his eyes makes your hips twitch uselessly, pinned under his full weight as he moves to better straddle you. Though he still has his usual clothes on, his cock is out and fully erect against your thigh, already wet with precum from when he was shamelessly touching himself during the hunt. “Although, you might like the thought of a demon eating you alive more than you’d care to admit, hm? You wouldn’t have agreed to my game otherwise.”

You let out a quiet groan as his hands crawl up to the hem of your shirt collar, and before you can register what he’s doing, his claws are shredding the entire shirt from top to bottom in one swift motion. The fabric tears with a salaciously loud ripping sound, revealing your chest underneath, and Beetlejuice responds by quickly bringing his mouth to your newly-exposed skin. He keeps slowly sliding the fabric off of you bit by bit with his claws, until it’s completely off of your body and his teeth begin to bite down on your collarbone. You gasp and writhe against him, shaking as his sharp teeth tease at breaking the skin of your tender flesh. He alternates between soft nibbles at your throat to harsher bites where your neck and shoulders meet, keeping you on your toes as he ravishes your half-naked body. You feel his hand come up to play with your nipples, pinching and rolling them under his clawed fingers in a way that makes your back arch under him. Noticing your reaction, he moves his head down and sticks his forked tongue out to slowly drag it across your other nipple. After all of this buildup, you feel as though you’re already on the edge before he’s even taken your shorts off.

“F-fuck, Beetlejuice…” You reach your hand up to become tangled in his messy hair as usual, until his own hand catches yours by the wrist right before you can touch him.

“Watch it with my name tonight, babes,” he hisses. There’s a darkness shrouding his face right now since he’s facing away from the low light of the stormy window, his hungry expression sparking a hurricane of its own in you. “And don’t think you can try your usual tricks and turn me into your bitch again. You were mean to me and lost my game, so now you’re my bitch tonight.” He leans down to purr his next words into the side of your neck. “How’s that feel?” Before you can answer, he’s biting into the soft flesh, tongue peeking out to get a taste of your skin, and possibly a few drops of blood.

You practically mewl at his ministrations, a deeply humiliating sound that you didn’t even know you could make. If that’s a sign of what’s to come tonight, I don’t know whether to be excited or scared. I feel like I’m learning to do both at the same time really well, though.

Beetlejuice pauses his lapping at your neck to flash you a smug, knowing look. “Already need it that bad, babes? You’re so cute. Want me to go ahead make you cum for me right now?” His voice still has that unearthly quality to it, a low undertone beneath his words that turns you on more than you’d care to admit as it rumbles through your entire body and sends bursts of electricity up your spine.

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?” His eyes glimmer with joyful control. Fast learner.

“Please,” you choke out, grinding your hips upwards to try and find friction against his towering form.

Beetlejuice puts a finger up to his lips in mock thought. “Hmm, lemme think about it…uh, no.” He laughs at whatever expression immediately takes over your face at these words. “I really enjoyed hearing you ask nicely though!” If his cruel laughter isn’t enough, his cock rubbing against your thigh makes it all too obvious how much he’s reveling in being able to turn your own words against you.

“Y-you’re a dick…” You can barely spit the words out without your voice wavering and betraying your true feelings.

His eyes narrow at you, smile unchanged. “Oh-ho, am I now? And what if I left you tied up without touching you for hours on end, just a pent-up, whining mess, stuck here with nothing to fill you up? If I’m a dick now, what would I be then?” He looks up with faux thoughtfulness. “Hm, well, I guess I’d be whatever you are, since that’s basically what you did to me.” His word delivery is sharp enough to cut, but you can read his tone well enough to tell that he’s not genuinely angry about the whole situation, he wouldn’t be so willing to play with you if he was. Definitely sexually frustrated enough to add some fire to his words, though.

“Do you want me to say sorry? Because I’m not sorry.” Pushing your luck with Beetlejuice is like an extreme sport to you at this point.

The demon chuckles darkly. “Give it time.” Moving on quickly, he stands up above you, clothes suddenly vanished from his body in the blink of an eye. “Up, my little marionette.”

With a slight flick of his fingers, your body is pulled up into a kneeling position in front of where he stands. It feels as if your body is being held taut by invisible strings, the position not fully uncomfortable, but not quite how you’d settle yourself if you were in control here. Clearly, you are not.

Beetlejuice coos at you, as much as he’s able to with his warped voice. “Aww, not what you were expecting? Did you think I was just gonna fuck you right away after all that? Somebody forgot about my promises to use them for myself if I caught them.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think you had the self control to actually do any- use me…!” If you could slap a hand over your mouth, you would. You settle for snapping your jaw shut immediately, a bewildered expression surely plastered on your face. Your cheeks burn hot as you realize what you just said, or rather, what you were made to say. If the breathy tone that was sorely missing your own personal inflection on the words didn’t tip you off, Beej’s shit-eating grin above you would have. Not only do you not have control of your body, but your voice is his to play with as well.

“What’s that, my little breather? You really want me to use you?” His voice takes on another tone, one of somebody playing pretend, like how someone would pretend to talk to a toy in a game. It doesn’t talk long to realize that you’re essentially reduced to a living, breathing doll for him in this moment. Demeaning as it is, you shamefully clock that you’re weirdly into it, but you wouldn’t share this with him right now even if you could.

Your feel your mouth twist with words that come as a surprise to you upon leaving your lips yet again. “Yes, oh, please use me, BJ…! You’re so sexy, so handsome, such a big, strong demon…I wanna make you cum so many times that I lose count, I wanna be yours to use forever, I don’t even care if I get to cum at all, I don’t deserve to for being so mean to you!” Your hands run down your sides seductively of their own accord as your mouth finishes its speaking. It feels a bit silly to do, but you don’t really have much say in it at the moment, and Beetlejuice doesn’t seem to care if it’s a bit over-the-top from the way drool is currently pooling at the corners of his mouth. None of the words that you moaned out really belonged to you, but you kinda like that you can say such obscene things and just blame it on him later. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t onboard with most of them already, aside from that last statement.

Beetlejuice laughs, licking his lips with a forked tongue. “Aw, aren’t you just a good little toy?” He takes a step towards you, his dick bobbing at eye level in front of you, seemingly a bit larger than usual and…is that ribbing? Yes, you definitely aren’t mistaken, his cock has ridges crawling up all sides, swirling around in mesmerizing patterns that reach up to his swollen head. Some jut out like small, dull spikes, while others are more like closely-placed ribbed lines that remind you of a winding path. Your eyes widen at the discovery as your head leans in expectantly, and this time, you’re not sure if it was you or him that initiated that movement. To test your level of control, you try to roll your shoulders experimentally, and they obey without issue. With this, you can confidently conclude that you at least have a bit of influence over your upper half, though your legs are still forced firmly into a kneeling position.

Before you can do anything yourself with this discovery, his hand reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and your heart rate immediately quickens in your chest. His grip is forceful but meticulous as he pulls your head forward even more, claws scratching at your scalp in a way that makes you heartbeat drop to the space between your thighs. His impatient guidance makes his neediness apparent, and you grin up at him through your eyelashes. Before he can say anything about how long you’re taking, you open your mouth and lean in to slowly lick his cock from base to tip, selfishly drinking in the shudder that you’re able to pull from him. Even when he’s supposed to be your monster, you can still find your own little ways of asserting dominance. Beetlejuice always runs chilly, but his cock feels even more so than usual, to the point where you would describe it as actively cold, though not enough to be uncomfortable. The ridges feel strange but not unpleasant against your tongue as you go in for another taste, and you shiver to think about how they would feel inside of your wet cunt. You move to mouth and kiss at his length teasingly, purposefully not giving him all of the stimulation he so clearly wants right away.

The grip on your hair tightens to the point of stinging. “If you’re not gonna do it right, I can just do it myself,” he hisses, panting above you with a poisonous glare aimed down at you below. You hardly have time to register how pretty he looks when he’s mad before he’s changed his position and begins fucking into your mouth at an absolutely brutal pace. Your eyes shoot open in shock as his hand holds your head securely in place by a fistful of hair, forcing you to breathe through your nose as he thrusts in and out of your mouth. It’s desperate, and frustrated, and monstrous. It’s exactly what he promised you. The extra size and new textures make his dick feel even more thick than usual in your mouth, and you marvel at the fact that you’re even able to fit as much of it inside as you currently are. Your eyes water as you try to suppress your gag reflex when he hits the back of your throat once, twice, three times. On the fourth time, it’s too much to fight and you gag, causing him to pause mid-thrust and look down at you quizzically. “Too much for you already, babes?” His voice is far too cheery for your taste, and his imposing form leers over you with bemused intrigue.

You tightly shake your head no, mouth too full at the moment to say any words even if your brain was capable of forming them.

Beetlejuice barks out a laugh, lightning pouring through the window to momentarily frame his facial features, all crinkled in amusement. “Ah, this is why I love you, doll. You just don’t know when to quit.” He pulls his cock from your mouth with an emphatic pop and you instead feel the unseeable pull of your limbs by his influence once again. Except, this time, he has a hold on all of you but your mouth and eyes. “But y’know, anything you can do, I can do better.”

Your body lurches forward without your permission, your right hand wrapping itself around the base of Beetlejuice’s cock and beginning to pump up and down his entire length. Meanwhile, your left hand chooses to come up to cup his balls, fondling and massaging at a separate pace. It might’ve been difficult to keep each hand’s motion and pace straight, if not for the fact that you were currently being possessed by a demon to do it. It was not unlike being asked to pat your head and rub your stomach, except that you don’t actually have to put any work into it at all and also you are having sex. Your mental comparisons are interrupted by your head positioning itself over his cock, lips parting to take him in and promptly closing to form a vacuum seal around him. Once your mouth is on him, you feel the pull of your demon’s power begin to bob your head up and down as much of his length as you’re able. Your hands continue their work, but your right hand pumps only the area between the base of his shaft and the lowest point that your lips can reach. Your ministrations continue at a fast and unwavering speed, and if your brain wasn’t completely overtaken by lust, you would be impressed with how efficiently he’s been able to turn you into his perfect little blowjob machine. You can feel that this is a persuasive but breakable possession, and it’s endearing to know that he left you an out so you could break his tether to you if you needed to. But deep down, you know you won’t be testing that ability out right now, not when he’s making such pretty noises above you.

Your eyes, maybe one of the only things still under your easy control, flit up to look at him as your mouth and hands continue their work. Beetlejuice looks down at you through lidded eyes, his concentration obviously torn between possessing you and getting his cock worked so thoroughly. His hair is a messy fire on his head, all red and fuchsia twisted together like a beautiful mixing of watercolors on a soft, shaggy canvas. He lets out an unsteady exhale above you, obviously very close, but trying to hide his usual whines and whimpers that would signal he was approaching the edge. Instead, he opts for a shaky moan from deep within his chest, unable to hold back as he begins to thrust up into your mouth to meet your lips as they come down. Just as it’s all starting to become a bit overwhelming, he shudders above you with a muffled high-pitched sound, and your movements become sloppy and ungraceful all at once as he finishes in your mouth. You could move off of his cock if you wanted to, but instead, you stay in place and greedily catch as much of his cum in your mouth as you can, shivering at how surprisingly cold it feels as you swallow it down your throat. It shouldn’t have been that shocking considering how extra chilly his dick had been, but you’re still taken aback by the temperature as you suck him dry, the slight sweetness still ever-present. Eventually, his dick stops twitching, and the demon above you seems to be quietly coming back down after his orgasm before he erupts into a guttural growl.

“Not enough, not enough,” Beetlejuice snarls, partially to himself and partially at you. “You made me wait so goddamn long, now it’s still not enough.” He squeezes his eyes shut and rakes a clawed hand through his hair, pushing it back from his furrowed brow as he vigorously shakes his head back and forth in frustration, growling and murmuring to himself. You hold yourself very still, watching silently as he seems to argue with himself about something internally. After a moment of thought, his eyelids flutter open again and he slowly turns his gaze onto you. His dark brown eyes look to be on the verge of crazed, the slits of his pupils moving down from meeting your own eyes to leer at your half-naked body. You manage to catch the way his pupils blow out wide as he continues to undress you with his eyes, despite the darkness making him seem very much like a moving shadow whenever the lightning outside pauses. Despite having cum just moments ago, he has the look of a ravenous man staring at a feast.

You sit back on your haunches, looking up at his pretty face with mock innocence. “Not enough, huh? What’re you gonna do about it?”

Beetlejuice can’t hide his grin at your insolence. “Patience, little bird. There’s really no need to goad me on, I’m not nearly done playing with you yet.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the irony of him telling you to be patient, ignoring the fact that your stomach is currently filled with butterflies at his words. His strings of control now fully dissipated, he steps forward with a renewed power and looks you over with a fanged smirk. He looks for a moment as though he wants to say something, but instead, he moves to crouch down to your level and crashes his lips against yours. The kiss rocks you to your core, all tongue and teeth on his end, which you do your best to imitate. In the end, it’s only more clear how horribly outmatched you currently are, his strength and demonic features easily overpowering your pathetic human body. As he shoves his forked tongue into your mouth roughly, you are struck by the chilling realization that every time you’ve been taking control up until now, it’s only because Beetlejuice has been letting you. The thought is enough to make you clench tightly around nothing, aching with desire.

After he’s satisfied with the kiss, he pulls back from your lips and reaches down to grab your legs by the calves, pulling them out from under you in one swift motion and making you fall backwards onto your butt with an undignified thump. He settles himself between your legs, grabbing the soft skin on the inner sides of your knees and spreading them wide to make room for his larger form. He continues to spread so far that you can feel your hamstrings stretching, a dull but satisfying ache in your muscles as they tighten at their limit. Once he’s carved a space for himself, Beetlejuice slowly begins to crawl his hands upwards from where they rest by your knees along your inner thighs, his claws lightly skating across your sensitive skin. You squirm and giggle lightly at the sensation, simultaneously too much and not enough. He finally reaches the bottom of your shorts and, wasting no time, shreds through the fabric as if it were tissue paper. The pieces of what used to be your shorts fall pathetically from your body, no longer recognizable anything but scraps anymore. As they fall off, you recognize with surprise that your underwear was also fully ripped off of you in the same movement, fluttering down to the floor in tattered pieces and leaving you fully naked.

Beetlejuice’s monstrous persona drops ever so slightly as he can’t quite hide the sheepish expression that finds its way onto his face. “Oh, oops? Overshot that. Hope those weren’t your favorite pair or anything.” He gets over his moment with a devious chuckle and is quickly back to studying your fully exposed body, all spread out in front of him and ready to be devoured. “Gotta make sure you’re ready to take me, strictly business here, y’know. Try not to moan like a bitch in heat too much. ‘S embarrassing for you.” As he’s speaking, you watch Beetlejuice lift his right hand and slowly retract the claws of his index and middle finger until they’re completely gone, only his regular short black nails where the claws once were. Without leaving you any time to make a snarky comment, he’s plunging them into your entrance.

“Ah…!” You keen as you finally receive the stimulation you’ve been craving all night, even if it is so much all at once. When the shock of him pressing into you quickly fades, it’s only immediately replaced by another, even more jarring shock: his fingers are ice cold inside of you. You yelp, unsure whether to pull away or beg him to push them farther inside. His unnaturally chilly fingers are curling against your walls, making your hips stutter and eyes squeeze shut as you try to steady yourself from the sensory overload.

“Aww, what’s the matter?” he coos with a sickly sweet smile, sticking a third finger inside of your pussy. You arch your back and whine desperately in response. “You look kinda conflicted there, babes…too cold for you?”

You wrestle for control of your words. “N-no,” you eventually spit out at him. It’s a sad attempt at lying to a very perceptive demon.

Beetlejuice grins. “You’re a stubborn little breather, aren’t you?” He keeps rubbing against the spot that has you seeing stars like he owns it. “That, or you’re just a freak who gets off on everything I do. Because I honestly did this to be an asshole, but you are definitely liking it way more than I expected. I can see it in your cute little face.” You tighten around his fingers as he speaks. “Heh, and that too.”

“Fuck off…” It’s a new kind of embarrassing to have Beetlejuice call you a freak for getting off on something, but honestly, that just gets you off even more, proving his point. You rock your hips up to meet him, unable to hold back your little gasps as you do. You’re trapped between pleasure and pain, the cold refusing to ebb as he continues fingering you roughly. You squirm helplessly under the seemingly endless barrage of conflicting sensations.

His left hand is suddenly on your lower belly, pressing down to keep you in place. “Quit fuckin’ moving, or I’m gonna tie you down,” he growls, not letting up on his pace as he chastises you.

“Hold me down yourself,” you moan, and the words are out before you even get a chance to think. Those were definitely your own words, though.

The demon’s eyes light up immediately. “Ohh, I see, you want me to hold you down and fingerfuck you ‘til you beg for mercy? Well, if that’s what you want.”

He’s behind you in the blink of an eye, erection fully hard once again if the way it presses up against your naked back is any indication. He grabs both of your wrists in one hand and lifts them up and back to wrap around his neck, still bound together tightly. It’s almost a romantic pose, with your body reclined back against his and your arms holding his head close to your body, his nose pressed into your neck and beard prickling against it as well. His free hand snakes around your waist to press your torso even closer against him before returning his fingers to your dripping cunt. The freezing pleasure returns, a feeling you had been dreading and felt so empty without. He’s pumping his fingers into you at the same quick pace, picking up right where he left off. He presses into your clit with his thumb, chuckling darkly at the cry you let out as he starts rubbing teasing circles into it.

“G-gonna cum…” Your humiliating whimpers only seem to encourage him into moving faster.

“Yeah? You close? I bet you are. You’ve been so wet all night…I could smell it, got all mixed up in my head, wanted to pin you down and take you so bad for hours…” Beetlejuice’s chin is resting on your shoulder, and his long tongue slips out to slither down at your neck and to your chest again. It’s like a prehensile appendage with how it moves and wraps itself around your nipples, but with such a light ghost of a touch against your hard buds that it causes goosebumps to spread themselves across your entire chest. You’d be defiantly squirming against him if not for the fact that your body was being held completely immobile by the demon. His wrist and strong forearm press insistently against your stomach and pubic region, keeping you locked in place with his otherworldly strength. Instead, you just allow the needy sounds to pour out of your mouth, unable to focus on anything besides how utterly and deliciously trapped you are and how fast your orgasm is approaching due to his dexterous fingers. You feel yourself cresting that final hill before he sends you crashing over the peak, your body attempting to fuck yourself down onto his fingers even harder despite your trappings. You can’t see him as your orgasm rocks your body, but you hear him hmph approvingly behind you and can easily imagine the smarmy look on his face at how much he can make you come undone with his hands alone.

You’re still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm when Beetlejuice swiftly disappears from behind you and reappears with his head between your legs, giving you no time to react before his mouth is between your legs, licking and sucking loudly. You squeal at the pleasure flooding your senses again so soon and squeeze your legs together involuntarily in reaction.

Beetlejuice lifts his head a bit with a hazy smile. “Sorry babes, couldn’t help myself. Just needed a little taste…” You whine as he sucks at your clit forcefully to punctuate his words before pulling his body back up to kneel in front of you. “But I do think you’re just about ready for me after that.”

“Please…” you muster, your head swimming with pleasure. You’re not even completely sure what you’re begging for, but your demon seems to enjoy it.

“Aren’t you so good for me, my little breather? Even when I’m using you for myself, so adorable…” He grabs your chin with his thumb and the forefinger that was pumping inside of you moments ago, appraising whatever expression is plastered on your face and holding your head in place. “It’s not gonna make me be any nicer to you, but it’ll probably make me fill you up faster.” Wasting no time, he pulls back from your face and begins to line his cock up with your entrance.

His words make you realize how quickly Beetlejuice was able to get you to roll over and play nice for him. It’s truthfully embarrassing the speed at which you folded, especially after the multiple times that you’ve teased him now for doing the exact same thing. Maybe he’s right, you’re more like him than you thought. This line of thought passing into your mind reignites your defiant spirit almost instantly.

“Y’know, for all that talk, you kinda suck at being mean to me.” It’s hard to keep the corners of your lips from being pulled upwards when he slowly tilts his head at your words in disbelief. “The meanest thing you could think to do is make me cum my brains out around your somewhat-chilly fingers. Kinda sweet for an evil demon, that’s all. Can’t bring yourself to do any worse?”

Beetlejuice’s cute expression of positive bewilderment begins melting into one of resolve mixed with pure, carnal desire. “You make such terrible decisions sometimes, it’s so fuckin’ hot.” He punctuates this statement by thrusting his cock up into you, stealing the next witty retort from your lips and leaving only a breathy gasp in its absence. It’s an intense stretch over his morphed length, and even after being worked open by his fingers, the sudden penetration is more than enough to shut you up as you adjust. He grabs your neck, firmly enough to tilt your head as he pleases. “I’m gonna eat you alive, little bird.”

You meet his blazing-hot gaze readily. “Promise?”

Beetlejuice grins as he chooses for once to let his actions do the talking, his only response being to start fucking into you at a quick and steady pace. His cock is clearly bigger than usual, but still fits without issue after the first stretch. You note that it’s the texture that makes the experience just as unique and fantastic as you’d hoped, his ridges rubbing against your walls as though they were designed to pleasure you specifically (and for all you know, this could be absolutely true). The cold remains a common factor throughout the encounter, and one that you certainly don’t hate, despite its initial purpose. The cold spreads out from your core to crawl all over your body, reminding you just how much influence he has over you. It’s all so strange and wonderful and it’s having no trouble in making you see stars already.

Your back is pressed firmly against the floor, giving you another beautiful view of Beetlejuice framed in front of the tall window as he sets a rhythm with his motions. Lightning highlights the outline of his frame every few seconds, visibly straining as he tries to give you more without losing himself in you completely. You try to take a second and memorize how pretty his face is in this moment, really commit everything here to memory. The way his eyebrows knit together as he works at opening you up, biting at his lip with sharp fangs that you assume must hurt, but he gives no indication if it does. The hand that was lightly gripping at your throat loses its solid grip as his fingers stretch out and stroke down your neck, his palm spreading wide and coming to rest directly above your heart, claws resting along the length of your collarbone. Every thrust into you, every touch of his hands on your warm skin, it’s all so maddening and cruel and perfect all at once.

His eyes peek open slightly and flit to your face, lids still half-covering the pools of dark brown. “Quit lookin’ at me all sweet like that, you’re the one who said you wanted rough mean monster sex.”

“Sorry,” you breathe, averting your eyes from his lovely visage to get back into character but unable to hide the way the corners of your lips curl up fondly.

“You’d better be.” He huffs with a smirk, before putting the charm back on. “Now, you said you could keep up with a demon, so let’s see if you were right or if I can make a liar outta you tonight.” He practically spits the word “liar,” clearly both something you should be ashamed of being and something that you desperately want him to prove that you were when you said that. He moves both of his hands down to your hips for leverage, grabbing onto the skin so forcefully that you’re certain it’ll leave a bruise. With you secure in his grasp, he’s holding your lower half steady so he can keep you perfectly in place while he fucks you, an anchor to you for your monster.

Still riding off the high of your recent first orgasm, you can feel your second building already at an exponential rate. You gasp as your walls clench around him, tightening around his cock as it keeps brushing against just the right spot inside of you, the ridges doing everything right for you. Before you know it, you’re already cumming around his dick, the squelches of him continuing to fuck you through your orgasm sounding utterly obscene with how wet you are for him. You ride it out with small moans and praises pouring from your lips, until the fountain of your words begins to run dry as he continues to fuck you at the same unwavering pace.

“You just came again? Okay, well, I haven’t cum again yet, so you can just be fuckin’ patient.” You feel that dawning horror that you’ve been waiting so long for wash over you as you realize that he does not in fact plan on giving you any semblance of a break here. Instead, he grabs both of your thighs and pushes them up to fold back on top of your body, removing the obstacle for him and ending with you opening yourself even wider for him.

“B-Beetlejuice,” you gasp, the overstimulation beginning to take hold as the last of your previous orgasm ebbs away, causing you to shudder and twitch involuntarily as he refuses to let up in his motions. “I’m so- FUCK!” Your words are unable to leave your tongue as his mouth begins biting at your neck insistently. His mouth moves with no rhythm compared to his thrusts, all wild instinct with no discernible pattern as he kisses and bites from your collarbone to your jawline, savoring the taste of you and the sounds you make at the overwhelming, overlapping sensations.

“You say something, babes? Couldn’t quite hear ya…” He switches it up by nibbling along your throat before ending his trail with a harsh bite to the side of your neck. “Were you gonna say that I was right and that I’m too much for your little human body to handle?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of his teeth on you. “Shit, I take it back, you really are evil.” He would be the one to make sex into a competition. A game, your mind chimes in to correct you. Always the games with him. You have been quite the fan of his rigged games tonight, why change your tune now when he’s ruining you so well? “Don’t you dare stop.”

Your words make him chuckle and become only rougher in his movements. “Gonna fill you up,” Beetlejuice pants as his teeth graze the tip of your ear, clearly on the edge himself. “Gonna cum inside you ‘til you can’t take anymore. Bet you’d like that. Bet you wanna have my cum dripping out of your needy little cunt for days.” Your answer comes out as nothing more than a strangled, horny sound, but it seems to get your agreement across as the demon grins wildly, his thrusts becoming erratic as his eyes are flooded with pure desire looking down at you. His head falls to rest on your shoulder as he continues, and you can feel him mouthing something into your skin, but it takes a few moments before you can make out what he’s saying, faint as a whispered prayer. “Mine, mine, mine.” He punctuates each word with a forceful thrust, your heart somehow finding a way to race even faster at this realization. His final utterance of the word is choked into a shaky moan halfway through, his predictably yet still shockingly cold cum filling you to the brim in the best way. It’s way more than you expected, pumping inside of you at high speeds and completely filling you with him. If your mind were a bit sharper right now, you’d probably marvel at just how much there is, you can tell just by feel the practically obscene amounts that are leaking out of your entrance and onto the floor. You close your eyes for a moment to try and bring yourself back to Earth. Your muscles burn with exertion, and you can’t stop the full-body tremors that keep wracking your smaller frame. Not that you have enough energy to even attempt to suppress them.

You don’t have more than a moment’s rest before you feel something cool and slightly wet rubbing against your leg, and you crack open your eyes and see a thick, black and white appendage prodding at you. The striped extremity crawls over your body slowly, caressing your outer thigh before stretching itself over you to pet at your inner thigh as well, wrapping you up in its grasp. You can only think to respond with a perplexed gaze at the thing before looking up at Beetlejuice inquisitively.

He looks all too proud of himself above you, the appendage clearly sprouting from him, more specifically, somewhere behind him…his back perhaps, but it’s hard to tell in this lighting. “Hey, I’ve never shown you my tentacles, have I? At least, I haven’t shown you what they can really do…” When your gaze looks back down, two more tentacles have joined the first, stroking and caressing at your slick flesh.

“B-Beetlejuice, it’s too much, I don’t know if I can…” Your body is simultaneously crying out for rest yet also desperately vying for the attention of the tentacles as they rub themselves over your form teasingly.

He actually has the gall to snicker. “Oh come on now, you can take much more than that, don’t be a quitter. Unless…you’re really admitting you can’t keep up with me? That you’re not as unaffected as you might make yourself out to be? That you were wrong and are now in over your little head?” He pokes you in the center of your forehead to emphasize his teasing in the most annoying way possible.

As though immediately possessed by a different sort of force, you feel a second wind rushing into your entire body, filling you with a new, stubborn resolve. “In your dreams, hellspawn.” You meet his eyes obstinately, hoping that your demeanor portrays yourself as less dazed and fucked-out-of-your-mind than you really are right now. In the end, your competitiveness will always win.

He chuckles, looking rather unfazed by your sharp response. “Still got that much of a fighting spirit, huh? Bet I can break that.”

At his command, three more tentacles emerge from behind him and move towards your reclined body. With six of them visible to you now, they move almost hypnotically as they stroke at your skin, all six moving as if of their own free will as they each take to a different task. You feel two wrap around each of your calves, and one more secures your wrists together. They pull you up to sit on your haunches, the cool wood flooring below starting to feel less pleasant than it did when he first caught you and pressed you against it. Your arms are pulled up and over your head, and you simply let them pull your limbs wherever they see fit without fight. You’re perched as though about to ride an invisible dick, and the position makes you very aware of how gravity is causing more of his cum to slowly drip out of you, mixed with your own wetness. The remaining three tentacles prod at your stretched torso, two settling to rub your nipples gently while the other one crawls down toward your hips. You keen at the contact, watching the slick appendages delicately rub over your chest and wondering exactly how much direct control Beetlejuice has over them versus how much they’re piloted by just subconscious desire without direction. Your eyes flicker up to take him in for the first time since being restrained, and his expression is one of a man watching a most riveting show, cartoonish tongue lolling slightly out of his involuntary smile at your current predicament. He’s crouched across from you in a similar yet freer position, mirroring your body but leaning forward to really take it all in. You feel the free tentacle begin to snake its way to your stomach, sending a thrill up your spine as it strokes down, down, down, until it’s right where you need it. You whimper wordlessly at the contact, mind swirling with sensation.

“God, I’m so happy you’re the kind of sick degenerate that’s into this,” Beetlejuice breathes, making you shivers as he tugs at his half-hard cock shamelessly. Despite being well-aware of what BJ told you about demon sex drives, it’s sort of blowing your mind to see him so immediately ready to go like this, again and again, acting as though everything before was nothing more than warm-up. Damn. No wonder he is the way that he is.

Taking you out of your thoughts is the tentacle giving attention to the space between your thighs, its stark black-and-white surface contrasting with your skin beneath it even in the window’s dim light. The tentacles holding your legs spread them wider to make room, and the appendage responds by bringing its tip up to your clit, pressing in gently but with enough pressure to have your body at full attention. Just when you think you’re spent, he’s got you bucking your hips under his touch again, desperate for more of his attention. Beetlejuice seems more than pleased with your reaction.

“I-I can’t believe you’ve held out on me so long,” you gasp, the tentacle dragging itself torturously slow as it traces up and down from your clit to your opening. “I mean, it’s only been like, a week, but that’s practically 1000 years in terms of your patience.” The tentacles stroking your nipples instead tug at them abruptly, swiftly putting you back in your place with a shaky whimper.

Beetlejuice looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a dumb smile. “Aww, I’m so glad to hear ya like ‘em. I didn’t wanna freak you out too soon, but I should’ve known you’d be enough of a whore to just bend over and let me take you however I wanted to.” You keen as you feel the tentacle on your clit move to your entrance, all wet with some nondescript substance that might’ve grossed you out if he showed it to you in any other context. There’s hardly even a stretch compared to his cock as it pushes into you, but it still reaches exactly where it needs to with how dextrous and long it is. “You wanted to be chased. You wanted to be caught. And yeah, I know you wanted to be used. How could you not, when you take it sooooo well?” His lovely purring words rattle around in your head as the tentacle inside of you pumps itself into your clenched core, rubbing exactly where it knows you want it to and making you grit your teeth as though about to go mad. “God, you’re so perfect. Look so fuckin’ pretty right now, don’t know what I did to deserve you. I won’t let you down, I’m gonna milk every orgasm you have out of you and not gonna stop ‘til you’re absolutely ruined, babes. You’re gonna regret asking me to be meaner to you.”

You whine miserably at his words, his own excitement and arousal only amplifying yours. You hump against the tentacle as it keeps up its regular pace, riding it like a cock as much as you can with your arms and legs restrained. Taking another glance at Beetlejuice, you notice that another tentacle had sprouted from his back when you were lost in his words and came down to rest on his own dick, curling itself around the length from base to tip and moving itself up and down rapidly, getting him off as he leans back and watches you intently. You grind yourself down onto the tentacle inside of you harder at this, getting off to the image of him being caressed by his own tentacles just as much as he is for you. He notices you reacting in this way and flashes you a grin, the unmistakable grin of someone who’s all too happy to be ogled. Damn exhibitionist. He then lets out a very familiar whimper, sharply contrasting his dominant front from a moment ago. You could recognize that specific sound anywhere.

“Are you fucking yourself in the ass with your own tentacles?” Your voice is strained, but the tone is somewhere between incredulous and amused.

His whimper melts into a breathy moan, his teeth snapping off the end of the sound by clicking together into a satisfied grin. “You know me so well, doll.” Sure enough, Beetlejuice leans forward and arches his back from where he had been resting on his haunches in front of you, and you can see another tentacle placed behind him that is thrusting up into his ass at a steady speed, the first tentacle continuing to pump his cock at a breakneck pace.

The mere sight of Beetlejuice getting so thoroughly worked by his own tentacles as your own stimulation refuses to let up is pleasurable enough to make you clench tightly around the appendage, your legs shaking as you cum around it and get roughly fucked through your orgasm. You feel your ears ringing as this one rolls out of you in waves, feeling so good and yet so, so much. It takes its time running through your entire body, but as it begins to ebb, you whine as you realize that the tentacles aren’t letting up. They continue to perform their motions like a dutiful machine, rubbing at your nipples, fucking up into your thoroughly used pussy, holding you perfectly in place despite your squirming. You’re still completely open to the appendages, no way to even curl up and hide yourself from their touches.

“Beetlejuice…” you practically sob, overstimulation causing your entire body to shake as the tentacle rubs itself against your g-spot, prodding at you for more as if it doesn’t understand why you’re so spent.

From your position, you can see the demon laugh at your predicament. “Aw, poor little thing. You’ve got about one more in you before you totally break, I bet.” You choke out an anguished sound at his cooing words, plus the fact that the pace of the tentacles hasn’t let up in the slightest, and he regards you with a raised brow. “Color?”

You take in a shuddering breath, knowing that you could easily end things here with a single word. But goddamnit, you are not giving him the satisfaction. You’ll go until exhaustion forcibly takes you if you must, your pride demands it. “Green.”

The unbearably overwhelming sensations are immediately made worth it by the utterly flabbergasted look that crosses your demon’s face, eyes widening as he receives an answer that he clearly didn’t expect. It’s quickly replaced by an impressed little smirk, all lust and pride and amusement wrapped into one sharp smile. “Heh, yep, that’s the breather I fell for. You’re too much of a stubborn little glutton for punishment to quit, just like me. Well, lucky for you, that’s in no short supply right now.” He moves toward you from where he had been leaned back on his haunches, and it’s immediately clear by the spattering of glowing green on his stomach that he himself has cum at least once under the tentacle that continues rubbing at his cock, and you feel a slight twinge of regret that you didn’t get to see his debauched expression as he came. To lift your spirits, you silently file away the idea of having him tied up and forced to cum over and over by his own tentacles while you get to watch as a fun idea for later. For now, Beetlejuice moves up to watch you closer, bringing his body right in front of your trapped form as the tentacles keep working the both of you.

You squirm as much as the restraints and your energy levels allow under his gaze. He’s watching your face intently, as though trying to see something in your slack-jawed expression. Then, you’re tilting backwards, as if doing a trust fall that you have no choice but to trust in as your body leans backwards, knees spread apart but still firmly on the floor as your back stretches tightly. Another tentacle comes to support your neck and back as you continue to be coaxed backwards by your restraints, until your knees lift ever so slightly off of the ground and you’re practically being cradled in a tentacle hammock with your limbs still restrained, but as comfortable as they can be in this situation.

“What a perfect little present all wrapped up for me after that long chase…” Beetlejuice briefly surveys the situation, his patience clearly maxed out by now but perception still sharp as ever as he scans you for any reaction. He must find whatever he’s looking for, because you see only a joyful flash of teeth before he’s biting your inner thigh and ripping more pitiful sounds from your tired throat against your will.

You flinch and whimper a bit at the sudden piercing pain, but you couldn’t move away if you wanted to. In all honesty, you probably couldn’t bring yourself to move even if you weren’t being restrained, not at this point. Another bite to your thigh, slightly gentler and closer to where you need his mouth. You dare a glance down at him and immediately find yourself trying to stifle your tremors and trembling, his firm grasp on you as intoxicating as the image of a demon looking so absolutely possessive between your thighs, in every sense of the word.

His smile is as all-consuming as ever. “And I think I’ll get a better taste of my prey now, heh.” His tongue is pressed against your clit within the second, the entire length of it slipping out of his mouth for nothing more than to rile you up. He knows it will; it did so well the first time, and every time after, and it unsurprisingly works like a charm today too. He laps at you hungrily, his long tongue having already proven itself to be perfect for eating you out. The fact that it now has a perfect little fork at the end only adds to the experience. You’ve simply had to make peace with the fact that his demonic features have completely ruined you for anyone else, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset about that at all. Not right now, when his forked tongue is stroking up and down your clit at the perfect pace, your trapped hands grabbing at the tentacles beneath them for stability as though they were bedsheets. They only tremble and continue to ooze even more as you grip them, a strange but clear sign of pleasure if Beetlejuice’s rumbling groans weren’t obvious enough.

He allows his tongue to wander between your clit and your entrance, and it’s so long that it can reach both spots at once when pressed up against you. He lets a whiny moan slip out as he keeps up the pace. “Fuck…I can taste myself in you…hey, you’re welcome for being so delicious…” Of course he’s still finding a way to brag, even with his mouth busy. You wouldn’t be shocked if he figured out a way to continue working your clit while also tongue fucking you, and then gloat how talented he is at getting you off without changing his pace at all. He’s a talented multitasker, clearly.

You’d normally have a much more eloquent comeback to his boasting comments, but you’re honestly shocked at how much Beetlejuice has absolutely fucked you out of your mind by now. You can barely string together a complete thought, let alone speak a coherent sentence. You feel like you’ve been thoroughly used up, in the best way. From the moment he offered you that deal, you wanted to be defiled by a monster until you’re nothing but a fucked-out little plaything for him to use as he pleases, and he has more than honored that wish. The combination of this thought and the maddening feeling of him lapping at your overstimulated clit is enough to somehow bring you back to the edge again, whining as your muscles tense one final time.

Your body language does not go unnoticed by your monster. “Aw, you gonna cum?” You let out a pathetic whine in response, and he snorts. “Yeah, you would be cumming again. Slut.” He pauses his ministrations to look you in the eye from below, intense lust clouding his pretty eyes. “Say my name, beautiful.”

You practically keen at the sudden denial of stimulation, but do your best to abide. “Beetlejuice…” Your voice is a sinful moan, more shameless and explicit than you’ve ever heard from within yourself. You can’t even bring yourself to feel ashamed or self-conscious about it with how fast Beetlejuice grabs your hips with his sharp claws and thrusts his cock back into you, clearly on the precipice again himself. A few quick, deep thrusts is all it takes for him to be once again filling you up with his load, shaking as he pumps you full of it as though afraid you’d lost too much after the first time he thoroughly bred your cunt. The combination of being so perfectly full of his cum again, the image of the demon holding onto you with both hands and tentacles from above as he finds release, and the feeling of being so completely claimed by the feral monster inside of you is enough to push you over the edge. Your final orgasm tears through you recklessly, just as wild and destructive as the last to your exhausted human body. Waves of tingly pleasure rush through every nerve in your body, clenching and relaxing your muscles as the feeling ebbs and flows throughout your form. Time stands still for you, and you can barely register Beetlejuice pulling out beyond the sensations still rolling through you. As it starts to dissipate, your ears are ringing again and- oh, you can’t see. That’s probably not good. You blink harshly, feeling as though you’re in the aftermath of some kind of explosion to throw off your senses this majorly.

After a few moments of muffled blackness and awful ringing sound, you see bright rays of reality begin to peek through as your body adjusts back to normal. You see a fuzzy image above you, towering over your frame in a way that feels more concerned than menacing, and as the picture begins to clear, you notice the figure’s mouth moving. Your mind returning, you attempt to focus in on what he could be trying to say to you with such a worried little face. Luckily, the world’s sound begins to fade back in as he continues to speak quickly.

“-ey? Hey? C’mon babes, you with me? You’re freakin’ me the fuck out right now, talk to me so I know you’re not heading into the light, please.”

“I’m good,” you murmur, still feeling a bit overwhelmed in coming back to Earth after everything. The tentacles have disappeared in however long it took for your vision to return, and Beetlejuice looks decidedly less monster-y than he did moments ago. The red has all but vanished from his hair, leaving a dusting of dark pink fading into a lighter gradient, with slight yellow streaks of nervousness, and he looks significantly less big and sharp overall as his nervous eyes flicker over your form that sits on the floor below.

Beetlejuice leans down to hold your head to his chest. “Oh, Jesus fuckin’ Christ (Y/N)! You were supposed to say something if it got to be too much!” He pulls back to swiftly look you over. “Gonna give me a heart attack when I’m already dead over here. Jeez.”

You giggle, too exhausted to fully laugh at his antics. “I’m fine, wasn’t too much. A little overwhelming near the end maybe, but I really liked it.”

He snorts. “Well, yeah, that much I could tell. You freaked me out though, I thought I might’ve accidentally factory reset you from fuckin’ ya too rough or something.”

You wave your hand dramatically in a dismissive fashion as you move to sit up, your stomach and thighs shaking with the effort as though you had just finished a particularly brutal set of sit-ups. Well, that’s one way to get in a core workout. “I mean, I’m the one who wanted to try and hold my own against a supernatural being at full power so bad. Dumb mortal physical limitations getting in my way.” You hmph at the idea of human limits, before leaning forward to place your hand on Beetlejuice’s own. “But you did great baby, that was everything I could’ve wanted when you first pitched that idea. I hope it was everything you wanted, too.”

Beetlejuice’s expression softens as he looks at your hand on his own. “Yeah, I had a great time too. Clearly.” His eyes dart down to your utterly spent body almost sheepishly before returning to your own eyes, a shine of strong affection behind his gaze as he speaks in a much more delicate tone. “I really love you a lot. Thanks for bein’ the way you are.” With that, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, a far cry from the roughness that he embodied minutes ago. It’s so tender that his lips only end up lightly grazing your own, and the feeling of his soft lips moving like a whisper on you is the sweetest of kind thank you’s.

“Anything for my sweet little demon,” you breathe, reveling in the mere closeness of him in this ultra-affectionate state.

Beetlejuice shoots you a cute smile before leaning down to pick up your exhausted body as though it weighs nothing to him. “Oh, and if it’s any consolation, you totally earned bragging rights for lasting that long in the sack. I honestly thought you’d tap out after, like, two rounds, and then we’d cuddle.” He tosses and hoists you up into a more secure position in his arms before he starts walking toward your door.

You grab onto the flesh of his shoulders to steady yourself. “What can I stay? l have a strong force of will when I’m with you.” With just a look from the demon, your previously locked door swings open without a care, and he carries you right into your dark room. You whip around and shoot him an inquisitive look. “Wait, was that you before? The lock?”

“Oh, is it that surprising that I outwitted you?” He moves to bite your shoulder teasingly, now more playful than menacing but still with enough teeth to command your attention.

“Ah…a little.”

One of the hands currently wrapped under your legs slides up to pinch your ass, causing you to yelp and Beetlejuice to laugh. “You may be hot shit in your own mind, but never forget that you’re easy prey to a demon like me, babes.”

***

“Delia-uhhhhhh, when’s the popcorn gonna be ready?” Beetlejuice languishes about on the sofa in front of the TV with no shame, flopping his arms over the side to look towards the kitchen.

You roll your eyes from where you stand behind the couch, then move to swat at his dangling arms playfully. “Don’t be a nuisance unless you’re gonna help, hellspawn.”

A somewhat-frazzled redheaded figure appears in the open doorway to the kitchen. “Now, Beetlejuice, if life is a bank, then patience is a virtue that’s worth investing some of your spare change into!”

He slumps. “You should know metaphors and me don’t mix by now. Oh, and could you please horrifically burn the next bag for me? I like it crispy crunchy.”

“Ugh, and make the whole house stink again? I don’t think so,” Lydia retorts, finding her place on the adjacent single-seater couch and getting cozy, her gothy PJs still keeping her aesthetic together even before bed.

“I don’t expect you to understand fine cuisine, Lyds,” he huffs, crossing his arms petulantly and slouching down into his seat further, making his legs reach all the way to the other end of the couch.

You laugh and lace your finger through his hair from above gently. “Quit taking up a whole sofa by yourself and come help me put snacks into cute little bowls for everyone.”

Like a switch flipped, he’s immediately on his feet and following behind you obediently, his previous body language evaporated. “Coming, dear…!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a bewildered expression from Lydia and could swear you hear her mutter, “Demon whisperer…” to herself in a tone that reads as half-accusatory and half-awestruck as you walk into the kitchen.

As you enter the room, you see Delia at the far side of the long counter furiously stirring a bowl filled with some snack that she must’ve quickly whipped up. “Oh, if you two could just put the popcorn and chips into some of the big sharing bowls while I finish this vegan cheese dip, that would help!”

“Sure can do, Delia,” you respond, opening the high cabinet closest to the door to grab the giant cartoon print snack bowls that everyone likes to use. You hand one off to Beetlejuice and keep one for yourself. “You handle the chips, bug.”

“I wanted to do the popcorn,” he argues back, putting on his brattiest tone.

“I’m not letting you anywhere near the popcorn. I know you.” You shoot him a faux mean look, and he doesn’t even try to hide the smile that spreads across his face. You ignore your desire to give him a kiss and instead, as you hear the popping slowing down on the popcorn within the microwave, open the door and trade it out for another bag. After pressing start, you open the top of the finished bag and pour it into your bowl, which is bright fuchsia and decorated with little cherries. You find your eyes strangely glued to it as you pour.

“It’s better when it’s blackened. That’s how you truly unlock the…complex flavor profile. See, I told you, I really have been watching those cooking shows on TV and learning valuable new things about the art of le chef.” The bag of chips on the counter lift up and begin pouring themselves into his bowl without Beetlejuice so much as looking back at them. Instead, he’s looking right at you as you pour the hot snack in the bowl, the tantalizing smell filling up the whole room. “Something really awesome about your bowl there that I’m not seeing?”

You manage to tear your eyes away from the bowl to look at him, suddenly realizing with mild embarrassment what it had been subconsciously reminding you of that had you so enraptured. “Uh, well, I can’t ever look at this pretty shade of fuchsia in a normal context the same way ever again, so I guess you kinda Pavlov’s dog’d me.” It’s hard to hide the laughter bubbling up in your lowered voice, having to hear yourself admit to something so…ridiculous.

Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems to view this as much more of a personal victory than a weird observation on your part. He snickers to himself before leaning in close to you flirtatiously. “Oh, babes, I really am living rent-free in that head of yours, huh? I knew I was good, but I didn’t know I was ‘make you think of getting dicked down when you’re making snacks’ good…”

“Behave.” You shoot daggers at him with your sharp gaze, and can’t help but feel like you’re giving him exactly the reaction he wants out of you. Dating Beetlejuice openly hasn’t changed too much of the dynamic, aside from you having to keep him and his lack of a filter on a short leash if you wanted to maintain your remaining shred of dignity.

The demon returns your gaze with his own unconvincingly innocent look. “I’m behaving, I’m a good boy, see? I poured the chips nicely and everything.” The whininess in his voice is going to make you insane, you know it. He then looks over your shoulder at the counter. “Oh hey, I think your popcorn’s done now.”

You whip your head around and are smacked in the face with the horrible smell of burning popcorn. “Oh shit!” You pull the microwave door open as fast as you can, but when you grab the bag and pull it open by the corners, the little puffs are burnt to a completely unsalvageable degree.

Beetlejuice gasps. “Babes, did you make this one just for me…?” He dramatically places a hand over where his heart would be. “Thank you!” He plants a quick but rough kiss on your lips before grabbing the bag and pouring it into his own personal striped bowl that appeared out of seemingly nowhere. You, on the other hand, are left reeling from the kiss and only able to wonder if he had been distracting you on purpose.

Delia makes a sound of disgust from the other end of the kitchen, and you look over to see her taking the dip out of the oven with a scrunched-up face. “Oh God, it smells awful in here! Tell me you didn’t put Beetlejuice in charge of the popcorn.”

Beetlejuice practically cackles. “Nope, my sweet little meatsack did this allllllll on their own.” With that, he proudly takes his personal bowl out with him to the living room, leaving you behind to pick up the pieces.

Feeling utterly duped, you grab the half-full bowl of popcorn and follow him out of the kitchen. By now, though Charles has gone past you to the kitchen to help Delia, Adam and Barbara have joined Lydia in finding a comfy spot on one of the many chairs (the family reached a point where they really had to invest in more seating after getting such a full house). Their attention is on the TV mounted above the fireplace as Adam swipes through a variety of potential movies to watch, at least, until the two of you arrive.

Lydia plugs her nose. “Gross, why’d you let him burn it, dude?”

Beetlejuice laughs and pipes in for you. “Hey, nobody can resist the power of the B-Man! Not even this one.” He tosses a piece of charcoal-colored popcorn into his mouth for emphasis.

You roll your eyes and offer Lydia a defeated shrug before settling onto the nearby loveseat, placing the big popcorn bowl on the coffee table in front of the TV. “I tried, kid. Unfortunately, he is still an absolute pest even if you happen to be in a relationship.”

Beetlejuice crosses his arms proudly, his bowl hanging in midair where he left it. “Oh, you want pest? Good, I needed a seat anyway.” He immediately plops down in your lap, laying his entire form on top of your reclined body.

“Crushing…me….!” You try to push back against his back unsuccessfully, finding him firmly planted on top of you. “There’s an empty seat right next to me you dummy!” It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be, but ghost or not, he is certainly a big boy.

He slides around to sit in your lap sideways, his legs resting on the empty loveseat space but all of his weight still perfectly balanced on your lap. “Is this better, schnookums? Honeybunny? Light of my death?” He bats his eyelashes at you sweetly. He is not being sweet.

“You two need to get a room,” Lydia says, looking even more disgusted than she was with the burnt popcorn smell.

“We have one, it’s upstairs,” Beetlejuice counters.

“I have one,” you correct him.

“Babes, what’s yours is mine, remember?”

You promptly shift your lap and dump him onto the seat next to you unceremoniously. He lands with the amount of grace that you’d expect.

“Alright everyone, the dip is ready!” Delia’s singsong voice rings out as she and Charles bring in the rest of the food from the kitchen, and Delia plops the dip onto the coffee table by the chips. “I got the recipe online!” She says this fact like it’s a fun little surprise for everyone, as she likes to do.

“That’s great, and I think we got the movie all ready too,” Barbara says, and receives a thumbs up of confirmation from Adam.

With this, everybody finds a comfortable spot to sit as the movie begins playing, the studio logos rolling on the screen first. Charles and Delia on one couch, Lydia sitting in a strange lounging position on her soft chair, Adam and Barbara snuggling close on one loveseat, and you and Beetlejuice together on the other. You’re lucky that the television is so large, everyone’s already packed in enough as it is.

Beetlejuice scoots closer to you, and this time, he genuinely is being sweet. He looks up at you with those big brown eyes before snuggling his head against your shoulder affectionately. You reach your arm around his body to hold him closer, bringing your hand up to run your fingers through his hair, always its favorite place to be. He sighs contentedly next to you, his eyes closing in bliss for a moment before they reopen to watch what’s happening on the TV, unwilling to miss a thing. His light but comforting weight pressing against you is like your own personal weighted blanket, immediately making you relax all of the muscles in your body with his mere close presence. Your own gaze lingers on his pretty features for a moment longer, before getting the distinct feeling that someone is watching you. Looking up, you see everyone watching the movie, aside from Adam and Barbara, who are cuddled together and subtly peeking over at you two of you. At getting caught, they shoot you identical sheepish grins, all endearing and full of fondness in the way their eyes crinkle at you and your demon. You can’t help but give them a coy smile back before you all return your attention to the screen, holding the ones that you love close in your heart and arms.

Author’s Note: WOW. HOW DID THIS END UP SO LONG. this absolutely CLEARS my longest fic record by a fuckton of words. i have no idea, this started as a little blurb when i saw beetlejuice in nyc and then i saw it again on tour and my bff inspired me to continue it and helped with some beta reading (shout-out! go read his fics of beej & others at wretched-devil, they’re absolutely lovely) and things just kinda spiraled outta control. this fic had my studious ass on bad dragon looking up monster cock references, it was so serious to me. welp, hope it was fun for y’all too, thanks for reading!!

[hazbinwhoree]

May I request a scenario where Adam and reader are in a marriage and domestic life, like how he is with reader being pregnant, gave birth, and what he is like as a parent?

Is the request OK? This the first time I make a request so please correct me if I made a mistake here.

Domestic Life

A/N: It was easiest to do this in headcanon format.

Adam is far from the perfect husband

But he’s trying, he really is

He has a breeding kink, so it’s not long into your marriage before you got pregnant

When you tell him, he thinks you’re joking

“HAH! Good one, babe.”

You literally have to convince him

Once he believes you, he’s incredibly nervous

Yeah he had a breeding kink but he never really planned on kids

Eventually he comes around

Is actually really doting during your pregnancy

The way he looks at it, you’re sacrificing your body for nine months to bring his spawn into the world so of course he was going to dote on you

You’re incredibly nervous about your due date, knowing child birth was the worst pain a woman could naturally experience, but Adam didn’t really understand your fear

“Think of it like you’re taking a shit but it’s from your vagina.”

Thanks Adam, very helpful

Always comes up behind you later in the pregnancy and locks his hands under your stomach, lifting slightly, taking the weight off your back

The first time he did it you teared up in relief

Adam made a point to do it a lot more after that

When it comes time to deliver the baby, Adam is shocked at the process

There’s so much blood and screaming and Adam is almost one of those dads who pass out

Feels like a dick for not taking your fear seriously

Holds your hand the whole time and stays up near your head

He gets sick if he looks at what’s going on between your legs

Tries to be comforting and encouraging but he’s so bad at it

Eventually shuts up and just lets you squeeze the life out of his hand

He brushed your hair back and off of your sweaty forehead with his free hand

There are complications with your delivery, you lost a lot of blood

You start losing color and becoming sluggish and Adam yells at the doctors

They try to escort him out but he straight up refuses

Adam is terrified not only of losing you, but of being a single parent

He knew without you he would fuck your child up

Luckily for everyone, you pulled through

Adam is more concerned about you than he is his child

Doesn’t leave your side even to cut the umbilical cord

Leaves that to the doctors

But once you’re lucid again you’re asking about your baby and Adam doesn’t have any answers because he was too concerned with you

He doesn’t even know the gender

The doctors bring you your baby and when Adam sees him, your son, in your arms, he falls in love with him too

That doesn’t help the looming thought that he’d be a terrible father though

As soon as he finds out it’s a son, he wants to name him Adam

You allow it

Adam wants to be an active father, he does, but he really is bad at it

If you want him to take any night shifts, you have to wake him up because the baby’s crying won’t

He makes pervy comments when you breastfeed

“Me next?”

Adam is very happy and proud that he has a son

You catch him baby talking sometimes but he’ll always deny it

He doesn’t have too much trouble bonding with your son

He learns to love him as much as he loves you

Almost cries at your son’s first steps

Also denies this

Your son’s first word is “fuck”

You really try to get Adam to clean up his language after that but Adam thinks it’s hilarious

Your baby’s second word is “bitch”

He may not be the best father but he is a loving one

[hells-greatest-overlord]

Hiii. I hope your having a good day. I have a Husk request ^.^ could you write one that takes place after the battle in the finale and he can't find the reader and think she's been killed (rekilled 😆) He's really broken up about it because he never got to say how he feels. And then she finally appears battered and bruised but otherwise ok? Lots of fluff, confessions and love please ♡♡

of course love! Thank you for the request!)

”Don’t you scare me like that”

Extermination day was coming near and adrenaline was in the air. You and the others had been working on making weapons, armor to protect yourselves, and trying to secure up the hotel.

you were sharpening your blade when you saw husk walking by and talking to angel. He said something and then angel walked off and he walked towards you. Before he would say anything you spoke “I need to tell you something” you say as he raised any eyebrow

“If I don’t make it out of this battle, know that you are my best friend” you say as you looked at the blade putting it down

“Don’t say that. You and the rest of this are gonna make it out”- husk

“I know I’m just sayin if-“ you say as he cuts you off

“No, don’t say if. You will just like the rest of us got it.” He said in a more serious tone as you nodded softly

“look i uh-“ husker was about to tell you something before he got interrupted by Charlie “Alright guys it’s time”

The two of you looked at each other feeling the need to say more but silence took over as you walked out with your weapons

-the angels started to come down and attack-

The battle was rough, the angels have been strong than what you expected and the group got separated in there own fights.

one of the angels had you corned, the fight had been going on for what felt like forever until they hit a building structure to make it fall and before you could run the building collapsed…

Once Adam was down the angels retreated and the world went quite for a moment

the team had gathered up after the battle, everyone showed up except for…

husk started to panic as he started to look for you along with the others. They looked around for about 10 minutes not able to find you as his worst thoughts came to his mind. What if you were hurt? What if you.. No. the thought of you dead would not take over as he thought to look at the destroyed building.

he looked until he he saw your body, fear filling his body as he quickly ran to you, checking your breathing and the scars you had on you gently shaking you “Come on wake up, wake up” he said as tears started to fill to corners of his eyes. He called for help from the others as he looked at your leg seeing blood as he took off his shirt and tied it around to help stop the bleeding. He held you up on his chest until the others got there and started to help move stuff to make it easier to get you out. He carried you to the hotel and into a room to where he helped clean and bandage you up, laying you down carefully covering you with the blanket. He pulled a chair over to where the bed and grabbed your hand “Come on sweetheart.. please wake up..” he said as he gently rubbed your hand with his thumb as you lay there silent. Time passed and husk didn’t leave your side, he wanted to be there the moment you woke up. The silence started to eat him alive so he started talking just hoping you would wake up “I um.. I need to make a confession..” he said as he cleared his throat. “I.. I don’t think I can do without you y/n.. you make things so much easier and make things more enjoyable down here… I just.. I’ve been trying to not let my feelins get in the way of stuff but I failed to do so..I..I think I love you y/n…” he said as tears filled his eyes as he put his head on the bed beside you.

And as if a miracle happens you opened your eyes, and while you couldn’t move a moment ago you heard everything he had said. You gently raised your hand and put it on his head gently rubbing it. He quickly rose his head up and looked at you as he saw a smile across your face “Well it took ya long enough..” you joked as he realized you heard, a light blush and small laugh appeared with him. “So dose that mean you’ll let me take you out when you get better?” He asked with a smile across his face “it’s a date” you say and he gently grabs and kisses your hand rubbing it as the two of you talked most of the night, finally happy together

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello, how are you?

may i please request polyam!renga (skate the infinity) when their girlfriend is upset with them? maybe because they went to compete against adam, even after she expressed how against it she was (she was very worried)...

Reki /Langa/Girlfriend - Keeping secrets

The sound of wheels clicking against the concrete echoed over the man-made valleys of the skate park. At this time of night, no one was around. So the entire parks was Reki and Langas to command and practice.

“Yes!” Reki cheered as he landed his new trick.

“Good job.” Langa ‘cheered’ as well, although more subdued than his fiery companion. As usual.

“With these new moves, we’ll definitely be able to beat Adam when he shows up! No one will stand a chance against us at SK8 next week!”

“So this is where you guys have been?”

The boys job at the sound of a new voice, but recognize it instantly. They slowly turn around to see [Y/N] there. A frown on her face and Reki’s hoodie he had leant her, but was never returned, around her shoulders to keep warm. “What are you guys even doing out here?”

“We were….just practicing….”

“Yeah…practicing…” Langa chimed in after Reki. But his ability to lie was weaker than his ability to stand on a board just a few months again. “We were training to beat Adam.”

“Langa!”

[Y/N]’s frown deepened at Langa’s confession. “You told me you weren’t going to try and skate against him anymore.”

"We knew you'd be mad if we were training to face Adam."

"So we kept it a secret."

"I'm not mad you're training to face Adam." She told them, which caused the boys to look surprised. "I'm mad that you lied to me. Yes, I'm annoyed that you're still planning to face him after what he did to Cherry. The guy is psychotic! But instead of just talking to me the both of you lied and snuck around behind my back. We don't do that to each other!"

Reki & Langa hung their heads. They did agree to be honest with each other.

When they started this throple thing, no one really knew what they were doing. None of them had really dated before. Nor did any of them have experience in relationships. Let alone complex ones like this. But they all agreed to try, under the condition that they were honest with each other about things and how they were feeling.

“We’re sorry.” The boys apologized in unison.

“We just…didn’t want you to be mad at us.”

“Langa’s right. We thought if we could train and practice up, then by the time we told you about what we wanted to do you could see how much we’ve improved, and you’d be ok with it.”

“I’m not going to be ‘ok’ with you challenging an attempted murder. But I guess if this is something you feel like you have to do, I won’t stop you.” The boys smiled at [Y/N]’s understanding, but she still wasn’t smiling at them. “But if you hide things from me again, I’ll be ‘not ok’ with anything ever again. I mean it. No more secrets or this is over.”

Reki & Langa but seemed to be scared straight by her comment, and nodded vigorously that they wouldn’t keep secrets anymore. “Good. Now. Show me what you’ve been working on I guess. Let’s see how you improved.”

The boys beamed and ran off to show their girlfriend what they had learned. Excited to show off for her more now than facing Adam.