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winedarkthoughts · 3 months

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house of addams (6)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 5.5k

— 🍄 summary: desperate times call for morally grey measures.

— ☕ content warnings: stalking (but it's mutual??), taking photos without consent (also mutual), slight lore dump, mentions of death/decomposition/missing persons

— 🕸️ a/n: thank you so much to everyone who continues to share their thoughts i love y'all so much!!

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chpt. 6: don't stalk, investigate

october 19, 2004

The trees surrounding the university are starting to brown at the edges. Fall has begun its descent.

The click of the camera shutter has become white noise to you. Through the viewfinder, you follow the motion of the mop of black hair.

You've found that that's how he starts almost all of his mornings: messily, sleepily. More often than not, his hair is just-rolled-out-of-bed fluffy, the lower half of his face covered with a black mask so you can only see his cat-like eyes.

He looks good today, wearing a loose white button-up and silver jewelry. He approaches the university with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder, still clearly half-asleep.

Yoongi is not a morning person, you've learned. You know because you've been watching him.

Listen, you never claimed to be a saint. And yes, maybe half the reason that you're a damn good private investigator is because you're willing (and perfectly capable) of doing the things that others would rather not.

So be it. You've witnessed others commit far worse evils than the one you're currently undertaking.

Long story short, your mental blockade with the case (and whatever the fuck happened at the lake) may or may not have caused you to look into some of the strange characters frequenting Farrow's End. Starting with the shy, antisocial botanist.

The fact that he supposedly lived in the Addams house (according to the commentary from the college students) wasn't the thing that made you suspicious, it was the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. Pretended to know absolutely nothing about it, to boot.

As a human being, you can respect someone keeping their secrets. As a private investigator, your job is to dig up any secrets that prove relevant to your investigation.

Half of you wants to believe that he's nothing but a good guy. You can admit that you like him, that you relate to his aura as the token "weirdo." But the cynical part of you, it whispers in your ear that he shouldn't be trusted.

No one should. Your job has taught you that much.

Therefore, you have to exhaust each point of view until you find out who's guilty, and who's less guilty. Because pure innocence is impractical.

And after what you saw (or think you saw) at the lake, you're going to have to gear your research towards less "scientific" topics. And try to avoid the woods at all costs. For the time being, at least.

On most days, Yoongi begins his days early, and mostly on-campus. It didn't take long to witness him being transported by the same black Mercedes that you saw outside the cafe, the one supposedly belonging to one of the mysterious Jungs.

Though Yoongi never enters the car in heavily populated areas. He usually walks a short distance to a more private spot, and then the car pulls up like clockwork.

You can never get a good look at the driver, thanks to the tinted windows.

So far, the only suspicious thing about the botanist is the fact that he lied about living in the Addams house. He goes to class, goes to his labs, gets coffee, goes home, with very little in-between.

Well, that plus spending a large amount of his time on campus with one specific chemist. And it doesn't take much longer to realize that he lives at the Addams house too.

Jimin, unlike Yoongi, is often late. He gets dropped off by the same sleek car, a short distance away from his destination, then he power walks to wherever he's going, fluffing and preening himself along the way.

Whether it's a hand brushing through his hair, or a knuckle pushing up the bridge of his glasses (which he never leaves the house without), or him adjusting the collar of his shirt, he's almost always fixing himself.

Sometimes, you get the impression that he isn't comfortable in his own skin.

He has a few other signatures: those heeled boots, pants that are almost always too tight for your liking, glasses (either tinted or completely dark), and always a mask covering his mouth. That, or sometimes an oversized scarf pulled up to just under his nose when it's particularly chilly outside, the wind rustling his hair and it's oddly shifting color.

You've taken to wearing one of your smaller cameras around your neck at all times, just in case you run into anything suspicious and need to snap a picture.

The morning mist has deepened into a constant drizzle most mornings, and that leather jacket you bought at Magic Shop has come in particularly handy. The garment is warm and cozy, and it always gives you a feeling of comfort whenever you wear it.

Fine, so maybe following Yoongi and Jimin didn't yield the results you wanted, though you'll admit it was fun. Still, something is telling you that there's something suspicious about that house and those who reside in it.

So you move on to another lead: Kim Taehyung.

He rarely leaves the house, you've found. So you have to conclude that he lives there as well as works there. When he does leave, it's on official business. Either to go to the police station to pick up documents or out of town to examine a body.

He doesn't ride in the Mercedes, though. Rather, he drives a classic black hearse. Again, peak dedication to the aesthetic, which you can appreciate.

And fine, maybe you snapped a few pictures of him on the rare times you caught him out of the house, but it's all for the sake of the investigation.

At first, you were quite hesitant to get too close to the house on the hill, with its looming trees and black birds hovering all about the roof.

But one day, when you creep up the path, the front gate opens on its own to welcome you. You were planning on scraping along the outside of the gate, peering into the yard through the iron bars. You weren't expecting it to actually open for you.

A gust of wind surges through the air, pulling you towards the house. The rustle of the trees practically whispers come closer.

It takes you a little bit aback, but you don't show it. Just in case someone is watching. In fact, you barely react to it, simply sidestepping the gate entrance and continuing along the path as if you were on a morning walk.

You walk along the entire perimeter of the gated yard, which is much, much larger than you anticipated. There are a number of gardens, a small hedge maze, a swamp even, and at the very edge of the property, a graveyard.

The tombstones are dotted throughout the wooded grove, a thick layer of ivy covering the ground like a burial shroud, and an air of calm hangs about the place.

But it isn't until you circle back to the other side of the house that you see something you truly weren't expecting: Jin, your favorite barista, strolling through the garden with a cup and saucer in his hands.

Wearing a turtleneck under a black coat, his hair blowing picturesquely in the chill wind, he meanders past the crumbling stone statues and trickling fountains.

You quickly duck behind a tree, reaching into your jacket to grab the small binoculars that you typically carry when you're in the..."observation" phase of the investigation. No, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this sort of thing.

Jin leisurely walks over the cobblestone pathway, sipping from his cup with a satisfied expression. He'll run a hand through his hair or lean against one of the stone garden walls, looking over his shoulder every once in a while.

And maybe it's just a hunch, but you get the sense that he knows that he's being watched. The weird thing is that he doesn't seem bothered by the fact at all. In fact, it almost looks like he's...posing.

An itch at the back of your neck. A glance back at Jin tells you that he's not looking at you, nor has he realized that you're there. But still, now you feel eyes on you.

You look around but find nothing but white-barked trees. And maybe if you looked a little closer you would've noticed that the knots in said trees look a little too much like eyes, open and alert.

Even if you had noticed such a thing, your conscience would tell you that obviously that's not the case. Trees can't watch people.

You'd be wrong, of course, but how could you have known that then?

october 23, 2004

He only ever works nights. The graveyard shift, to be specific. His shift always starts after the sun has set, and it ends just before it rises again.

Normally, you'd split your time between the cafe and the bookshop, but recently you've dedicated almost the entirety of your days to watching the barista and learning his habits. And in that time, you've hardly seen him eat.

In all the time you've spent watching him combined, the only things you've seen him eat include: a handful of olives, a few slices of bread and cheese, and the occasional spoonful of honey. Coffee and the offhand glass of red wine (which he pours into a teacup with a charming wink when he catches you watching him) is all you ever see him drink.

The only time he leaves the Addams house, besides to go to work, is on Saturday mornings when the Farmer's Market takes up the town square.

Sporting a checkered coat with the collar turned up to shield the lower half of his face, sunglasses (even though it's utterly cloudy), and an umbrella held over his head (even though it's not even drizzling), Jin scours the aisles, scrutinizing each booth's wares to find only the freshest and best quality produce, meats, and bread. He also procures some fancy cheese and preserves, his tastes expensive and well-refined.

The only other time you see him deviate from his routine is to visit the nearest hospital one afternoon. You're expecting him to enter into the waiting room, but he circles around the back, waiting by a STAFF ONLY door.

That same tickle from somewhere in your brain, the one that makes your eyes a little blurry. You take a moment to refocus them, and then you see the door crack open.

The person behind the door hands Jin an object that he quickly conceals in his coat, and the interaction is too quick for you to see what exactly it is.

But not quick enough for you to miss taking a picture. Because you've learned that it's always best to prioritize the camera before your eyes.

You take it to the dark room that same day. And the film reveals that the object appears to be a plain white box. Your guess is that it's a thermal container, the ones used to transport samples or the like.

It's a bit embarrassing to admit that it takes another day to put two and two together.

You're sitting in the cafe, skimming through the files of the five missing persons, when Jin approaches your booth and silently places a pastry on the table.

It's another one of his habits, you've noticed. Whenever you're in the cafe and have gone a long time without ordering any food, he'll subtly bring you something without a word, and you're usually too focused on your research to notice until some time has passed and it's too late to reject the offer.

You've told him several times that though the gesture is appreciated, he doesn't need to provide you with any freebies just because you're in here all the time. But he just brushes you off and claims that he needs a taste tester for his new recipes.

You let it slide after telling yourself that he probably does the same to a number of other customers given his charming nature (though in all the time you've observed him he's never done it for any other patron, but that you conveniently ignore).

This time it's a little cake, topped with a strawberry and absolutely smothered in fresh cream. When you cut into it, red jam spills from the inside of the cake like blood from a wound.

Then it finally clicks.

...Blood.

Like a slideshow in fast motion, all of the little details spring back into the forefront of your mind. The time when you noticed his shirtsleeve riding up, revealing a faded scar distinctly resembling a bite mark on the inside of his wrist. The time you noticed him drinking from a to-go coffee cup, but with a ring of red surrounding the opening in the lid.

And at the hospital, a thermal container used to transport samples such as blood bags, or even human organs.

Fuck.

You push the dessert away at the realization, scrambling to gather your things and leave the cafe as quickly as possible.

Of course, that means you miss the concerned and slightly disappointed look on Jin's face as he watches you go.

october 24, 2004

You don't know what makes you more of an idiot, the fact that you're actually close to believing that Jin is some sort of blood-sucking creature of the night, or the fact that it took you this long to consider the fact based on all the warning signs.

Unfortunately, nothing is impossible. And though none of your investigations so far have pointed to something so overtly "supernatural," you have to entertain the possibility.

Because it's possible that something about it could trace back to one or more of the victims, since clearly this case has proven to be far from normal.

Though the internet is a great resource, currently all you can find is blog posts, and you'd prefer not to cite those when it comes to professional matters. So you turn to local folklore, urban legends, and the security of the written word.

When you enter the bookshop the next day, you realize just how broad of a topic it is. There are hundreds, even thousands of mythical creatures across different cultures. It's going to take a long time to factor out one with the right features and track it's roots.

Then you remember the man behind the counter. Namjoon is currently staring at the mass of papers on his desk, looking confused and frustrated.

"What's all that?" you ask as you approach the counter.

"My accounts. Balancing my checkbook," he replies without looking up from the mess.

"Ah," you say in understanding, in pity.

A pause.

"Want a distraction?" you finally ask, and his head whips up almost instantly.

"Dear God, yes."

You chuckle, moving to lean against the desk.

"You're a writer, right?"

"Yes," he answers with a nod.

"What kind of things do you write?"

"Mostly research papers, some articles here and there, a few field guides."

Hmm, so he's more of a scholar, then. Interesting.

"In what area of study?"

Namjoon's mouth twitches like he's trying to find the right words.

"Folklore," he finally answers, but obviously there's a little more to it.

Perfect. You bite back the urge to rock on your toes with excitement.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

He smiles at that, dimples and all, like nothing would delight him more.

"Of course, anything you want," he answers, voice curling around the edges.

And you don't know it, but he means it sincerely. He would tell you anything and everything about him and his little family if you would only ask.

Any of them would, really. Technically, none of them have ever lied to you, they just haven't share all the information.

And if Namjoon is being honest, all of them are quite eager for you to get a little more invasive and figure them out for yourself.

"What do you know about mythological creatures that feed on life energy?"

You didn't mean for it to come out so specific, so incriminating. But you're getting a little tired of questions without a ghost of an answer.

His eyebrows raise a bit.

"To be honest with you, my knowledge is limited mainly to the folklore of this region," he admits, sounding apologetic.

Even more perfect. You try not to give away too much of your excitement, despite the fact that every time you encounter him he only seems to get better and better.

"Pray tell," you urge, leaning forward slightly with open ears.

A little bashful expression crosses his face as he settles deeper in his chair, all thoughts of taxes abruptly thrust aside.

"Well, vampiric creatures are quite common across folklore in many cultures. They're usually associated with outbreaks of disease, and vampire hunts are mostly accompanied with epidemics..."

You let him talk for as long as he wants, listening eagerly and only looking away to scribble a few notes from time to time. It's clear that he's passionate about what he studies, speaking about it like a lover would.

He tells you that even the word "vampire" is shrouded in mystery, as linguists do not know the precise etymological origin. Apparently, the folklore of this region is steeped in Slavic roots, so that's what he focuses on to narrow it down for you.

From the Old East Slavic language, the term "vampire" hails from the word "upir," which is speculated to translate as "someone who bites" or "the thing at the feast/sacrifice," though the word has no definite origin.

Namjoon tells you that scholars agree that the term was used as a stand-in, since they were too afraid to say the creature's true name.

"An upir needs to feed on life essence to survive. In literature, this is usually represented by drinking blood, since it represents life," Namjoon explains.

"Usually?"

He shrugs.

"The "opir" in Ukraine consumes large amounts of fish as their source of sustenance, preferences vary across cultures."

"You speak of it like they're real," you say with a chuckle, watching closely for his reaction.

Another shrug, this one more uncomfortable.

"To the Slavs, they were. The universal belief in supernatural beings was common. Unseen entities were part of the way they understood the world," he says.

"Hmm," you mumble, scanning him up and down. You try not to delight in the way he squirms slightly under your scrutiny.

"Most of the traits attributed to vampires these days are based on myths, or downright misunderstandings," Namjoon blurts out. "Like how the outbreak of rabies in Europe led to the belief that the upir are afraid of light, which is ridiculous. Many of the symptoms of rabies, which is spread through biting, coincide with the supposed traits of vampires, like the fear of light and altered sleep patterns."

He says it all like he's slightly annoyed.

"Or how they assumed that the upir are undead because during decomposition, built up pressure can push the blood into a corpse's mouth," he continues.

"So the upir aren't undead at all?" you probe.

"No, it's just a misconception," Namjoon replies like he's in the throes of a heated debate.

He seems to notice, since the next moment he's clearing his throat awkwardly and slumping in his seat.

There's a moment of silence as you jot down some more notes.

"They're not evil," he blurts out like he can't help it, and the look on his face implores you to believe him.

You look up at him.

"Across the centuries, they've always been used as the scapegoat for things humans can't understand," he adds softly.

Hmm, yes that seems to be a recurrent theme in human history.

You close your notebook and straighten up from leaning on the desk.

"Very interesting. Thank you, Namjoon," you say and mean it.

He smiles and nods as if to say of course, but after your back is turned, his face falls a bit, wondering if he let a little too much slip.

"Too much? In my opinion, you didn't tell her enough," Jimin quips.

Namjoon rolls his eyes, but he's mainly focused on Jin. The older man only smiles at him, pressing a comforting hand to Namjoon's cheek.

"Don't worry, love. I don't mind at all," he says. Because yes, he too is eager for you to realize just what they all are.

"I just don't want her to think we're the ones behind all this," Namjoon admits.

"If she's as smart as she appears, then she'll figure that out for herself soon enough," Hoseok replies, slowly circling the room with his arms crossed.

He approaches the elegant leather couch that Namjoon and Jin are occupying.

"Joonie," he says, running a hand down the younger man's neck.

"I don't think it would hurt to drop her a few more hints, hm?" And everyone notices the smirk on Hoseok's face.

"I'm tired of waitiiiiing," Jimin whines.

"She's still a skeptic, Minie," Yoongi supplies from where he's watering the plants against the window. "She needs to be eased in."

Jimin just rolls his eyes.

"We could just kidnap her," he suggests.

"No." The reply comes instantly from Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi simultaneously.

Jimin laughs high and bright.

"Come now, Jimin," Hoseok says with a sharp smile of his own. "Everyone knows it's more fun when they consent to it first."

october 25, 2004

The next time you enter the bookshop, Namjoon immediately mentions that he put together a little collection of texts for you to look over, saying they might be interesting to you. Maybe even aid in the investigation.

You thank him earnestly. And no, your face doesn't heat up at the fact that someone has gone out of their way to make your life easier.

When you slip into your usual nook, you notice that one of the drawers in the desk is adorned with a little pink ribbon around the handle, almost like it's gift-wrapped. And when you open it, you see several books, articles, and newspaper clippings, all of which seem very promising.

Something stirs in your stomach at the sight, but it's quickly set aside as you lock in and dive headfirst into the new research endeavor.

There's the notice for each of the missing persons, all the mentions of them so far in the newspapers, including one article from a publisher you've never heard of.

With the headline simple reading DISAPPEARED, the short snippet describes each missing person and the details of their last eyewitness account. The strange thing is that the article includes far more details than the big-name publishers, making you wonder why you haven't heard of it before.

The Periscope Press. You don't recall seeing it in any of the corner stores around town, but you do recall some of the people you interviewed mentioning details from "the newspaper" that you hadn't heard previously. Maybe this is the publisher they were referring to.

When you ask Namjoon about it though, he is surprisingly unhelpful. He claims that he can't remember where he came across the article, saying that he often picks up stray newspapers for wrapping and packing purposes for the shop.

Well, you suppose you'll have to save it for later then.

Also among the pile of papers in the drawer, there's a short blurb announcing the opening of the Kim Morgue and Crematorium. Taking a closer look at the date tells you that Taehyung's practice has actually been passed down through nearly three generations.

Technically, Taehyung is actually Taehyung III, taking the same name as his father and grandfather and great-grandfather before him.

But it's the photo you stumble upon that really stalls your breath.

A portrait, faded and yellowing, dated almost seventy-five years ago. The subject is a man dressed in a brown suit and tie, his hair dark and curly, except it looks exactly like him. From the Roman slant of his nose, down to the way he positions his shoulders, it looks almost indistinguishable from the Taehyung of today. The family resemblance is apparently very strong.

And again, it's a little embarrassing how long it takes you to reach the conclusion that to others, especially to the supernaturally-inclined, might seem obvious.

But you've already mentioned that you're a bit of a skeptic.

october 28, 2004

You fear that you may be going a bit crazy.

The dreams are getting worse. They've escalated from simple images and sounds to corporeal sensations. You feel the water so sharply, the cold, the current, even the vibrations. You can see hands reaching towards you, and sometimes you are compelled to reach back. Sometimes you swear you wake up smelling of seawater.

And the itchy feeling of being watched has only gotten stronger. You feel as though you're always looking over your shoulder, always listening for following footsteps.

In the past few days, you've used your research as an effective distraction.

You've found that the Kim family has run the morgue out of the Addams house for almost as long as the Jung family has owned it, Taehyung hailing from a long line of coroners and forensic pathologists rooted in Farrow's End.

With a little digging, you discovered that the Jungs have been business tycoons for decades, buying and selling and trading their vast number of industries to generate a near endless stream of income that they then hand down to their children and children's children.

Unfortunately, most of the knowledge on the Jung family is circulated through the townsfolk, so you have to ask around a bit to get a more solid basis.

The current owner of the Addams house is one Jung Hoseok. Young, beautiful, and filthy rich, according to those you spoke with on the streets. But, apparently he spent most of his youth in a mental hospital. Not only a mental hospital, a high-security facility for the criminally insane.

Now, you're not sure how much of that you believe, but you still have to entertain the possibility.

And one day, you even catch sight of him. A small crowd tends to gather whenever the black Mercedes pulls into town, curious eyes prying into the tinted windows.

You're lingering outside the bookshop one afternoon, making sure you didn't leave anything behind after a four-hour-long research session, when the car rolls through the streets like a slinky black cat.

Whispers immediately fill the air, causing you to look up from your bag, which is bursting at the seams these days from all the papers you have to carry around.

The car stops at the curb in front of the cafe, the driver soon killing the engine. Then, the driver's side door opens, and a black-booted foot steps onto the sidewalk.

The man is handsome, you have to admit, with long black hair that curls at the nape of his neck. His face is sharp and angular, with a softly heart-shaped mouth and surprisingly bright eyes.

He's dressed in pressed pants and jacket, thin and elegant. The man walks into the cafe and picks up a to-go order, gets back into his car, and drives away without so much as a glance at all the people who have stopped to stare at him.

You being one of them, but you're fairly certain that you're the only one who takes a few pictures.

But it wasn't until yesterday that you started to really feel like you were losing your marbles.

As you're asking around town, you breach the subject of the town's forensic pathologist. Everyone you speak to has nothing but good things to say about the young coroner, except for the fact that he isn't as young as you thought he was.

You ask a woman you struck up a conversation with outside the grocery store about the Kim family, and she says that Taehyung did a fantastic job taking care of her nephew for his funeral.

You agree, mentioning your admiration for how educated he is for someone so young.

That's when the woman's face turns puzzled. "Young?" she says, raising an eyebrow. She goes on to say that the most recent Kim Taehyung has been running the morgue for the last twenty years.

"Taehyung III?" you ask. "Thin, dark eyes, looks a bit like a Roman statue?"

"Yes, that's the one. Took over the family business after his father died. But no children, I hear he's training a young apprentice that will likely take over when he retires."

You mention that surely Taehyung has time to have children, but that same confused expression crosses her face.

"Isn't he nearly seventy though?"

A squirmy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You awkwardly brush off the woman, apologizing for the confusion.

You ask almost every other passerby you see on the street that evening about the town coroner, and they all say the same thing. A kind man, very good at his job, and most definitely in his late sixties.

They all insist that there hasn't been a young Kim in the business since Taehyung was a trainee nearly thirty years prior.

So you do a little more digging, and turns out it's true. If you'd have looked a little closer at the dates on all of Taehyung's degrees and certificates, you'd find that he acquired them all between fifteen and twenty-five years ago.

You're tailing him the next morning. You got lucky, today being one of the rare days when he leaves the Addams house to go into town.

He steps out of the hearse in leather shoes and a sweater vest under his trenchcoat. You suppose he dresses like he's older, from the way he tucks in his shirt and cuffs his pants, but he also sports a crossbody bag over his shoulder that others would most likely consider feminine, but he pulls it off effortlessly.

The clouds are letting down a light rain, leaving dewdrops on your jacket and making Taehyung's hair appear just a bit fluffier.

There's that same streak of gray from his hairline. The only indicator that he possibly isn't an attractive man in his late twenties/early thirties.

But that's exactly what you're looking at. Not an older man with aged skin and silver hair, rather more like a bronze god with a mop of black curls. And the only sign of age from knowledge or experience is deep in his eyes.

You begin to follow him down the street, sneaking pictures occasionally, curious what would happen if you were to show said pictures to others. Would they still see an old man? Or would they see the young one you've been seeing from the beginning?

You get the odd sensation that you're being watched, but from a source you can't name, since you're fairly certain Taehyung hasn't noticed you.

It's as you're nearing the end of the sidewalk, slipping in-between a cluster of people, that he suddenly stops dead in his tracks.

You stop too, a cold chill latching onto your spine. He stands there for a moment, perfectly still.

Then, he turns over his shoulder and looks right at you.

There haven't been many times in your career where you're genuinely shocked speechless. And even fewer when your target is not only fully aware of the fact that you're trailing them, but apparently isn't bothered in the slightest by it.

Because then a smirk is creeping onto his face. Those tiger eyes turn a shade darker, and he nods his head slightly as if to greet you.

He knew you were watching him, they all did.

The ice under your skin only intensifies when you hear the click of a camera shutter from behind you.

Whipping around, you see Jung Hoseok standing just a few feet away, a camera held up to his face and the brim of his hat tilted down, but you know it's him.

And the lens is pointed at you.

What's strange is that no one else seems to notice him. Every other time you've seen him in town, everyone stops to stare, but now they slide around him like he isn't even there, their eyes looking right through him.

Something weird is definitely going on.

You dissolve back into the crowd like a ghost.

october 29, 2004

A letter appears on your doorstep. The stationary is soft and expensive-looking, with your name scrawled on the front in curling script. With no return address.

It's enclosed with a red wax seal, stamped with the image of a crow.

You debate on whether or not to open it for approximately three minutes.

Dearest _______,

We cordially invite you to the Addams House for dinner, dancing, and drinks on October 30 at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Please bring your case notes for discussion.

Dress code: semi-formal.

Fondly,

Jung Hoseok

The back of the paper reads:

How do you accept this invitation?

➳ With enthusiasm

➳ With excitement

You think about it for about thirty seconds. Circling "with enthusiasm," you slip the paper back into the envelope and set it back outside where you found it.

It's gone the next morning.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear any of your thoughts! 👉👈

#bts x reader #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #bts fanfic #bts series #bts mystery #bts x fem!reader #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts poly au #bts poly x reader #bts fic

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innerfare · 26 days

Text

Lawbin Headcanons

Summary: Early stages of Lawbin. This whole thing is basically Law being a dork who’s constantly trying to play it cool while falling for the weird girl (Robin, I love you, never change).

Characters: Trafalgar Law x Nico Robin

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

When Robin met the Captain of the Heart Pirates, the Surgeon of Death and a Warlord of the Sea, Dr. Trafalgar Law, she didn’t trust him, not even for a second. Recall, she has extensive experience with Warlords and would have died at the hands of one if Luffy hadn’t saved her despite her own insistence he leave her to die. As soon as she meets Law, she swears to herself that if things go sour, Luffy won’t be saving her and, in fact, she’ll be saving Luffy. She won’t let the Warlord take a shot at her Captain, and she takes Luffy’s proposition that if the alliance goes bad, the crew will have his back, to heart.

For the longest time, that’s how Robin thinks of Law: the Warlord. She never talks about it, but she has PTSD from her time with Crocodile. She had never known peace or solace in her life; the safest position she’d had before joining the Straw Hats was as the right hand of a man who ultimately viewed her as expendable. And Sir Crocodile wasn’t just any man, he was a pirate brimming with power and eerily intelligent, with a mind for strategy. Just like Traffy, whose insistence on planning out every little detail and having a backup plan for every backup plan takes Robin right back to Alabasta.

Robin becomes a little obsessed with comparing him to Crocodile. She zeroes in on his willingness to make small sacrifices for the greater cause, his analytical nature and reserved emotions, his apparent lack of friends. Only, Traffy went to great lengths to help the Straw Hats rescue the children on Punk Hazard, and he didn’t take the opportunity to be too cruel to Smoker and Tashigi despite having them chained in front of him. But that doesn’t stop her from trying to make him into Crocodile 2.0.

And then there’s Law, who’s such a dork. Strategic alliance this, strategic alliance that, but from the second he met the Straw Hats, he wasn’t thinking about betraying them, he was wondering how he was supposed to remain impartial with such an affable group. He thought Nico, at least, would be an ally against the general Straw Hat insanity, but she turned out to be the crew’s worst enabler rather than the mother hen he had originally pegged her for. Which begs the question, what else was he wrong about?

Annoyed to have been so wrong, Law begins paying more attention to Nico. He notices that she doesn’t fall into the insular trap that a lot of academics do. She’s not just an expert on her one field but in fact is incredibly well read and is a wealth of knowledge on a menagerie of different topics, and each topic he learns she is well-versed in is weirder than the last.

Why is Nico an expert on Panda Shark socialization? How did Nico come to find out that there is a mythical, lost library full of love poems on an unnamed sky island? Why does Nico have so many books on a random king from the South Blue who died eight hundred years ago? How did Nico learn that there’s an island in the West Blue where white pumpkins grow on bone trees? And why, oh why, is she versed in Germa 66 lore? Finding out the last one makes his heart drop, the realization that he would risk it all for the Straw Hat archaeologist making Law’s stomach churn.

And how is she so calm all the time? He had pegged the academic as similar to him, but her crew’s shenanigans seem to just roll right off her. She sat in that cell with him and the others in Punk Hazard reminiscing about old times with Luffy and Smoker instead of cowering in the shadow of Vergo, and she more than held her own on Green Bit, lending herself to him as an asset time and again, always being there to lend a helping hand (or twelve) when the plan fails.

All that is to say, Law falls first. But it’s Robin who makes the first move.

It’s only when she sees Traffy interact with his crew that Robin sees him for who he is, and she can’t get that man out of her head- that man who isn't domineering but tries to make people follow his orders to protect them, that man who is so adored by his crew (the members of which he protects rather than uses for his own gain), that man who, despite being called Warlord, is kind of adorable.

Robin starts teasing him a bit; she just can’t help herself. Now that her Crocodile glasses are off, she can see that he doesn’t have the sort of temper that leads him to kill people but rather the sort that just leaves him spluttering and speechless. And, well, she thinks it’s cute. She starts feeling dumb, too, for not having seen it sooner. After all, Luffy saw he was a good and trustworthy person, and that should have been enough for her, but she had been blinded.

No longer blinded, she starts enjoying her time with Traffy, though he doesn’t notice the shift, doesn't realize she's soft on him. He thinks she’s needling him for some other reason. It never occurs to him that Nico (or anyone, for that matter) finds him cute. And he almost goes into cardiac arrest when she tells him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He demands one night, fed up with that little smile that always seems to be on Nico’s face while she’s staring at him. “Nothing,” she says, swallowing her giggle, “I just think you’re cute when you’re annoyed.” And with that, she leaves him to process what she’d just said.

Their relationship is built on info dumping. Robin can talk about her weird interests, such as the mating habits of Sea Kings and the fact that the antidote made from Conine in the bark of Kona Trees can actually be used as a poison if mixed with the correct substances. And Law can talk about his childish interests, such as various comic books and ninjas. These two geek out on a level not previously known to humankind.

They bring each other odd tokens, typically the weirdest possible thing they could find on their respective travels.

Law buying Robin books and leaving notes inside that get progressively more personal, Robin asking Sanji to show her how to make onigiri because it’s Law’s favorite.

And then there’s the trauma. Both were nearby when their parents were murdered. Both were alone in the world at a very young age, Robin hunted by the World Government and Law by the Donquixote family. Both know what it’s like to be completely alone with nothing to their name but a bizarre devil fruit ability and a target on their back. Both managed to find their way in the world despite feeling for years that they never would. They didn’t save each other because they didn’t have to. They’re traumatized, but they’re not broken, and together, they can be even stronger. They saved themselves, and now that they did, they’re free to bask in each others’ presence. And that’s exactly what they do.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law headcanons #law headcanons #heart pirates #robin #nico robin #Nico Robin headcanons #robin headcanons #lawbin #lawbin headcanons #law x robin #traffy #straw hat pirates

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enam3l · 1 year

Text

the godparents (rockstar eddie x reader)

a follow up to baby fever!

4.4k words / PG friendly / fluff / angst /

CW: pregnancy/fertility and it's downsides, if pregnancy is a sensitive topic for you, i'd skip this one!

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

Eddie doesn't have a clue what you're saying. Your mouth is moving but all he hears is blood rushing past his ear canal. That's basically the only thing he's been able to hear for the past two months. Only vaguely observing his surroundings as he stays stuck in his own head, raging with thoughts and questions. Stuck this way ever since his best friend, Steve Harrington and his partner Marissa had their firstborn. The moment he held Rob Harrington, he was screwed. As Steve had put it 'Eddie Munson has baby fever.'

Actually, Eddie had caught the fever the moment he first saw you interact with a child. A desire to have children awoken but only with you. He'd managed to sit on this secret for a few years now but ever since the gang's latest addition, the fever has raged. Ultimately, he knows now he has to confess to you about what plagues him. Really, Eddie knows he should've mentioned it somewhere between realising he wanted kids and asking you to marry him. But, in his defence, you've never mentioned them and it wasn't worth the risk of losing you.

Each day the secret burns harsher. Now, Eddie sits, on the edge of the bed in his Hawkin's home with a gormless look on his face as he watches you. You're flittering around the bedroom in a pretty, expensive dress, worrying about today. Today was Rob Harrington's Christening. Today Eddie became a godfather and you became a godmother. Subtract one word and his dreams would be coming true.

It's a tug round his neck that brings him back down to earth. You're stood between his legs, tying his tie carefully. Only you know how to do it right, nice and loose, stopping him from feeling like he's choking or looking like a real adult. You tuck the curtain of hair he's trying to hide under, behind his ears.

'You okay, baby? You've been real quiet,' you hum with concern.

He blinks, totally dazed by you. The way your pretty face looks at him all wide eyed and full of love. Oh god, he hopes your kids look like you. He wants to be endlessly tormented by an army of your mini clones.

'Yeah, yeah, sweet, I'm good, I'm...' good lord, Munson, think of an excuse, 'just nervous about today.'

You sit on his lap and kiss the round tip of his nose. He could stay sat like this, being loved on by you forever.

'Oh god, did you have the dream where the priest dropped Rob in the water again because I promise that won't hap-'

Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his curls, although, that dream had been bothering him.

'S'just a big day, isn't it,' he shrugs.

You nod in agreement, thumbs soothing over his freckled cheeks.

'Mhmm, we're gonna be godparents. That's like being appointed to be an aunt and uncle by God... or something?'

Eddie chuckles and softly kisses your lips. Neither of you were exactly religious. Honestly, neither were Steve and Marissa but it just felt like one of those things you're supposed to do. After everything the boys had seen and been through, putting a good word in with the Big Man (or whatever exists) felt like a good precaution.

After speckling his face in a few more gentle kisses, you hopped off Eddie's back and returned to fretting. The Christening present, you had now wrapped and unwrapped several times, was back in your hands.

'Do you think it's okay? I mean will he like it? I know he's too young for it at the moment but when he is old enough?'

You'd chosen the present. With some plotting, Eddie had managed to swipe the signet ring Steve always wore with his initials inscribed. Then, you had it replicated with Rob's initials instead.

'Yes! Sweetheart, it's perfect. More than perfect. It'll make Harrington cry like a baby!'

The thought made you giggle. Steve had been a hormonal wreck ever since Marissa had gotten pregnant. It reached the point where his mood swings outdid the ones of his actually pregnant partner. Eddie knew his reassuring had worked once he saw your body relax. Now, you returned to ensuring not a hair was out of place. Your hair was pulled away from your perfect face that looked fresh with effortless make up. The straps of your dress tied in bows over your shoulders, revealing the expanse of the delicate skin that covered your collar bones. The only downside had been the ban imposed against Eddie marking you up. But, now he saw you stood there before him, it was clear his sacrifice was worth it. The structured silk bodice fitting you perfectly then flowing down just near your knees. It wasn't often he saw you in things so glamorous but soft; it made his heart fizz thinking this was almost a taste of how you'd look on the wedding day that was just a month away.

The church was crammed with Steve and Marissa's loved ones who'd travelled from all over the country to celebrate baby Robert. Attending events like these made Eddie nervous ever since he was outcast kid however now he sticks out more so. He saw the way attendees eyes gazed at the boy of the hour, cradled in his parents arms. Then their eyes would flicker to Eddie - who stood beside them at the altar - and do that classic squint. The do-I-know-him-from-somewhere-oh-wait-is-that-the-one-from-that-noisy-band squint. It was something he never found flattering, always embarrassing. It was one of the first things he'd thought about when Steve had asked him to be godfather; the gawping and whispers taking away from the special day. But Steve and Marissa would have no such thing, aside from Robin and Marissa's oldest brother, there was no one more perfect for godparents.

So Eddie stood at the altar as that became official. Forever grateful you were by his side and understanding his nerves without ever mentioning it. Soft hand gripping his, thumb rubbing calming circles onto his skin. The whole process of baptism was still a little baffling for him. For one, he was unsure why Rob had been forced into what looked like the wedding dress of a small Victorian ghost. Also, he'd kind of lost track of what was going on once he stepped inside the church - just thankful he hadn't gone up in flames. But luckily, he had you. Now, Eddie felt a small tug on his hand as you guided him to where the priest, Rob, Steve, Marissa, her brother and Robin all stood around a little bath of water.

'Are they going to do the spell now?' Eddie whispered in your ear as the priest set up.

His question had clearly been overheard by Robin who stifled a snort whilst you batted him for misbehaving.

'It's not a spell, I explained this to you! You're such a heathen, Munson,' you mouthed back. Quite enough to not disturb the ceremony before you but loud enough that Eddie could hear the tone in your voice that said you better behave, Mister.

Yet, despite his original confusion and gentle mockery, Eddie found himself getting transfixed by the ritual. The soothing recital of prayers by the priest as he dipped a thumb into some ointment and proceeded to mark a cross on Rob's head. Eddie smiled to himself watching as Rob looked around, wide amber eyes just like his dad's, a little confused but pleased to be surrounded by his favourite people.

Then, at the big moment when Rob's waft of hair was wetted, Eddie felt himself quietly gasp in awe with the rest of the room. Knowing the small action symbolised something big. When a small sob began to croak from Rob over the water, Eddie felt himself jerk forward - a built in reaction to protect his godson. Clearly, you felt his movements too as you tugged him back. Soothing Eddie with soft strokes to his arms, mirroring Marissa's to her own son. He felt himself calm as he watched you mouth along to the prayer. A smile on your face and a twinkle in your eye watching your now official godson be swaddled by his parents. Eddie followed your gaze, longingly wishing the pair of you were in Steve and Marissa's position with your own baby. He should've known today would've been more of a struggle than he previously thought.

Finally, the priest announced Robert Harrington as an official mini member of the Church, protected by you and Eddie. The crowd clapping and sniffling at the momentous event. Quickly, the pair of you were shuffled closer with Rob, Steve, Marissa and your fellow godparents, for an array of photographs whilst in the church. A sense of pride filled Eddie as he looked at the beaming grin of his best friend, knowing he'd been part of this moment.

As Rob's gummy little smile was directed at Eddie, he couldn't deny that he was proud of himself as well. Proud that despite everything, his own shambolic upbringing and opportunities to go off the rails, he had ended up being someone people would trust to care for their child. And Eddie couldn't deny that he was good at it and actually wanted to do it. Looking after Rob, hell, even the kids when they were still his little sheepies, gave him a sense of accomplishment unmatched by even being on stage. He couldn't hide it anymore, Eddie Munson knew he would be an amazing Dad and the secret could no longer be contained.

'Let's get one of him with his favourite aunt and uncle!' Steve had cheered, earning an outraged cry from Robin.

A little wriggly Rob Harrington was placed in your arms as the photographer positioned you both. Your fiancé stood behind you, head resting against yours as little fat grabby hands reached up to the pair of you.

'It's a big day for you, mister, huh? Are you excited to get spoilt rotten?' You cooed, slipping a finger into Rob's grasp.

The other fist remained unsatisfied, still reaching out, desperate to grab a ringlet of Eddie's hair. A fascination he'd had since birth.

'You wanna play with your uncle's hair again? We've got to take our pictures first, cutie. I know, I know, I love playing with his hair too,' you giggled.

You looked back, searching for a response from Eddie. Expecting him to be pulling a ridiculous face at his godson but you were met by a blank, dazed look. Inside, Eddie was screaming. Watching you baby Rob so effortlessly. That sweet little voice that was reserved only for him. The way Rob looked so lovingly from you to him, to you again. Eddie wanted, no needed, his own little baby to gaze at you two like that. It had to happen, it was too perfect. Fate was tempting him, giving him a taster of what he could have. Torturing him by having you stood there before him, looking so heavenly in that damn dress, loving that little boy so much. A picture perfect new family but it wasn't Eddie's own... not yet.

'Eds, baby, is everything alr-'

The words fall out as fast as his heart beats. He can't stop himself.

'I want us to have a baby!' Eddie blurts out. Your face drops but not a second passes before the photographer calls out

'Aaaand cheese!'

The bright flash stuns you both but it doesn't erase the way your face dropped. It definitely dropped. It's etch-a-sketched into Eddie's brain for all eternity now. He's not only just ruined a perfectly nice photograph, he's probably just ruined his relationship with his soulmate.

'So cute guys!' Marissa squeals as she approaches. Carefully lifting Rob out of your frozen arms.

'So we're gonna start heading over to the house now to have the part-' Marissa's instructions are interrupted by you.

'Uh, I've got to go. I'll be right back.' Suddenly you've reanimated and are fleeing down the aisles, dodging beloved great aunts and cousins and flying out the Church's exit. Eddie's heart sinks to the pits of his stomach.

'Ok...' Marissa stares wide eyed, 'so I have never seen her move that fast before...'

Now Steve appears beside a baffled Marissa and forlorn Eddie.

'What the hell was that about? Did someone tell her about the weird shrimp thing that Marissa's mom made us put in the buffet?' He scoffs. Marissa shins him.

'Don't say hell! You've just baptised your son! We're in a church, Steven!'

As he rubs at his now aching shin, Steve sees a lost look on his best friend's face he's rarely seen since '86.

'Eddie, man... what's going on?'

The frozen look on Eddie's face suddenly cracks and he crumbles before the couple.

'I think I fucked up real bad,' he sobs.

Marissa finds you back at the Harrington household, curled up in her en-suite. When you fled the church, you took Eddie's car and made your way to the house where the after party would be. You'd hoped maybe you could compose yourself by the time everyone had arrived - you were wrong. Sobs had racked through you non stop for the last half hour. The look you had worked so hard on this morning, now totally disheveled. The fabric of your dress littered with tear drops, stray hairs floating from burying your face in a towel.

'Babe, it's Marissa,' she announces softly with a knock, 'can I come in?'

She takes the croak that comes out of you as a yes.

Instantly, she's on her knees and wrapping her arms around you. Hands gently stroking your hair as you sniff against her shoulder.

'What happened, Y/N? Are you okay?'

You cough, trying to clear your throat.

'D-did he not tell you?'

You felt awful leaving Eddie there, clueless. Sweet face dropped with eyes all wide and wet. But you couldn't process his words then and there, he'd blindsided you.

Marissa sighs, 'yeah, he did but I wanna know how you're doing. What's going on in that head of yours?'

Haphazardly, you shuffle away from Marissa's shoulder so the pair of you sit facing each other cross legged. Holding hands on the cool bathroom floor like you were back at a college house party. But you're not drunken college girls anymore, your friend is a mom and you're engaged.

'We were just taking the picture and he said - he just said, out of no where, he wants one... wants a baby,' you gasp on another sob trying to erupt.

Marissa nods waiting for you to continue.

'I didn't expect it. He's never - we've never...'

She squeezes your hand to stop you from falling into a fit of tears again.

'Would it be so bad... having a baby? You're soulmates, you're getting married next month. You'd be great parents.'

Although she means well, Marissa's words make you break again because she's right - Eddie would be an amazing parent. Any kid would be lucky to have him as a dad and he deserves to have everything he wants.

'No, no, it's just... god, I'm sorry, Marissa. I should speak to Eds first, god. Is he okay?' Your heart aches thinking of causing him distress, you know he'll be sick with worry.

'He's just...' Marissa sighs, 'he just wants to make sure you're okay. What do you wanna do, girl?'

You press your palms to your eyes. Inhale, exhale, repeat. Desperately trying to calm yourself.

'I'm ruining your guys day. It's a happy day. I'm making it sad... I'm failing godmother duties already,' you chuckle mournfully, 'let's go and have a good time for Rob. Mine and Eddie's drama can wait.'

Marissa takes your face in her hands, swiping at your tear stains.

'Are you sure, Y/N? We'd understand if you just want to go home?'

'I'm sure.'

The two of you pinky promise on the bathroom floor, maybe you were still slightly those college girls at heart. Marissa pulls you up onto your feet.

'Okay, trouble,' she smiles, 'but before anything, let's fix your make up. Steve's aunt is such a nosy cow, if she sees those tear stains, she'll be prying all night.'

When you come out of hiding and enter the bustling party, your eyes immediately scan for those big brown eyes. You find them gazing lovingly at baby Rob who Eddie is holding hostage outside on the decking. He looks so perfect like this, a baby in his arms. It's not making things easy for you.

'Hi, Eds,' you announce yourself softly.

He startles, eyes wide and cheeks flustered.

'S-sweetheart, you're back? Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have -'

You wave your hands in protest, trying to stop him before he gets lost rambling.

'I'm fine, I'm fine. I just...' sighing, you take a seat next to him, nerves stopping you from just falling into his arms like you want to. 'Let's just have a nice time for Steve and Marissa and little Rob here... we'll talk about it later, yeah?'

Eddie licks his lip nervously, a hesitant hand attempting to reach out to squeeze your knee. You take his hand in yours, his natural warmth taking over you. Really, you just want to curl up into him already.

'Urm, yeah. Alright sweetheart, whatever you want...'

Eddie's heart sinks throughout the day as he watches you put on a brave face. He knows when you're keeping your feelings locked up. It's impossible for him to ignore that not once does your smile reach your eyes. It eats him up inside that he's the reason you've shut down in a way he's never seen you do before. Repeatedly you find an excuse to slide your hand out of his, making up a reason to busy yourself. When the dance floor is filled, Eddie can't find you anywhere, not even for your favourite song. Even when it comes to the extravagant white frosted cake Marissa's mom made, it doesn't taste as sweet without you kissing off the frosting Eddie manages to smear over himself.

A part of him really thought his worst fears were just that life long self doubt toying with him. He didn't wholly believe the question of children would have you react like this. He's truly terrified he's done something he cannot take back.

Eddie picks at the leather of the steering wheel throughout the silent car ride. From his peripheral vision, he sees how your gaze never leaves the window. By the time he pulls into the driveway of your home, the silence is gnawing away at him. The worst case scenarios crippling him.

'Do you still want to marry me?' Eddie croaks.

The question cracks all your resolve and the waterworks start again.

'Eddie...' you gasp, 'of course! Nothing could stop me wanting you. I just don't know if I-'

No longer can he hold it all in, Eddie just needs you to know what he was thinking. Needs you to know it's you before anything.

'Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I just dropped it on you like that. I didn't mean to, it's just... I've been holding onto it for so long. Over the last two years, I never thought it but I want to be a dad but only with you! And we'd never discussed it so I never said anything. Then they had Rob and just seeing you with him. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry it was just too much. But it's only with you. Only if you want it too. I don't need to be a dad...'

Hearing Eddie scramble over his words always tells you when he's distressed. You'd been clueless this whole time that he felt this way and you feel awful for never noticing.

'I don't think I can, Eddie,' you all but whisper.

His face doesn't disguise how his heart clearly drops. She doesn't want kids. The clear disappointment on his face stings so much, you force yourself to look straight ahead through the window-screen. Straight at the home you have together, a home that would sound alive with the footsteps of little Munsons.

'I understand, I guess I should've asked sooner...' Eddie's sounds deflated. The enthusiasm that usually runs through his words, now completely drained away.

'No, you don't understand,' you blurt, 'I don't think I can have kids.'

If it wasn't for the blood rushing past his ears, Eddie would've thought your words just stopped time. Words fail him and he's barely able to muster a croak.

'Did you never notice how we've been together for five years and we've never even had a scare? Baby, we're not exactly safe... but you'd never mentioned kids so I just. I just pushed it away...' you mumble the last sentence, 'I told myself if you didn't want kids then there was no point stressing myself thinking about it.'

You look at the man you love and you feel sick. Heartbreak evident in his tear filled eyes and fallen face. Heartbreak that's your fault.

'Eddie, I'm so sorry. I should've said something. It's my -'

Eddie stops you before you take the blame. Shaking his head profusely before jumping out the parked car and running round to your side. He opens your door, frees you from the seat and wraps you in his arms. The pair of you sniffling into each other's warmth.

'Don't you dare apologise, sweetheart. Come on, please, let's go inside.'

You find yourselves stripped out of the day's formal clothes, seeking comfort in well worn items. Curled up, facing each other on the bed.

Eddie is the first to disturb the quiet.

'So, you had thought about having kids?'

You nod softly.

'Eddie Munson, I'd be stupid not to want to have your babies,' a sad laugh leaving you, 'I've seen how you are with people younger than you. Heard how you looked after Dustin and the gang. Seen how you are with little fans. Then when Rob came along... Eddie, how could I not? You'd be the most amazing dad. But you never mentioned it and with your own family... I just assumed it was an unspoken deal.'

Regardless of the sad circumstances, Eddie can't help but smile.

'You really wanted kids with me this whole time?'

You nod, taking his hand and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

'And you wanted kids with me?' You return the question.

Eddie mimics your actions on your knuckles this time.

'Only with you,' he confesses, 'you're the only person in the world I could comprehend having a family with.'

The two of you smile weakly at each other. The beauty of your confessions so overshadowed by the sadness.

'I'd understand...' you begin, heart twinging at what you're about to say, 'if not being able to have kids was a deal breaker. You deserve to have everything you want, Eds.'

Immediately his brow furrows as if you were speaking gibberish.

'No!' He practically spits the words out, 'no, no, no! Never. No.'

Eddie pulls you into his arms, clutching your head into the crook of his neck.

'There is no future without you, sweetheart, you understand? I thought I just had the music and that was a sweet deal until you. Then I found myself for the first time picturing a real future for myself. A future kids like me never thought we got. It's always you before anything, do you understand?'

You nod into his neck. Inhaling the smell of home, something you'd never known until you met Eddie. He presses a firm kiss to the side of your head.

'We're gonna spend the rest of our lives together, regardless. Promise?'

'Promise,' you whisper into his skin, punctuating it with a kiss.

For a while you just hold each other, clinging to your whole world. Then, Eddie clears his throat.

'Do you know, like officially? Has a doctor said something or... are you sure you can't have kids? I mean, it could be me.'

You retract from your hiding place, to shuffle back and look at him. A hopeful glimmer sparkles deep in those brown eyes.

'Well, no...' you confess, 'I was always too scared and because we never spoke about it, I decided ignorance was bliss.'

Eddie hums in thought, nervously toying with the frayed hem of the t-shirt (of his) that you're wearing.

'We can check, y'know... if you wanted to? If you really wanna do this.'

His shyness makes you want to weep. Now it's clear as day how much he's been wanting this the entire time but never wanted to upset you.

'Okay,' you murmur, 'we can check. I want to, I want us to have a family, Eds.'

Finally, he looks up at you and a smile breaks across his face.

'Really?' He marvels.

'Really.'

With your hand you signal just how much you mean it - cross my heart and hope to die. Eddie crushes a deep kiss to your lips, one that relaxes every muscle in your body. It's the first kiss since this morning. Never have you gone so long without kissing each other whilst being in each others company. It hurt to deprive yourself of it. Once you pull apart, you brave the question you dreaded.

'What if the tests or whatever say we can't have kids?'

Eddie shrugs like it's the most casual thing in the world before brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

'I think whatever happens, you're so caring, so full of love... I think we'll find a way to create our own family regardless.'

His words make you sniffle tears for the umpteenth time today.

'The Munsons. Our own little family of misfits?' You smile.

The Munsons. Those words alone leaving your lips instantly heal Eddie's heart in all the ways he's felt it shattered today.

'God,' he groans, 'I can't wait for you to be a Munson, honey.'

His over dramatics make you giggle, your first real laugh all day.

'Just one month left and it's official. Mrs Munson,' you kiss the tip of his nose.

Your sweet affections are overshadowed by Eddie practically howling like a wolf.

'Mrs Munson, Mrs Munson, Mrs Munson. You're killing me here, sweetheart!'

The following giggles are quickly swallowed up by your husband-to-be as he pulls you into a desperate, wet kiss. Your limbs tangle as you lose yourselves in it. Gasping for breath in between repeating Mrs Munson. Mr Munson. Over and over until you pull apart to catch yourselves.

Looking at the man you love, all smitten and loved on, you agree with his earlier thought.

'You're right though, Eddie. We'll do it, no matter how. We'll make the family neither of us ever got to have.'

Just over a year later, you're both proven correct when a little stick shows a pink plus. One Sloane Munson was on her way.

So guys... I guess a wedding is on the horizon?

taglist babies: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar @littlepotatobeansworld @josephquinncore @oscarisaacwhore @therosietoesy @luvrsbian

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unikhroma · 5 months

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the big acid theory post

(i am sorry for how long this is)

couple weeks ago someone on discord asked if i could dm them my gripes about acid theory, since they hadn't seen any criticisms of it. i was very surprised to hear that so of course i did what any normal deltarune fan would do and wrote an essay (aka complained for several paragraphs). posting for reference sake so i have all my thoughts in one place and never make a post about this topic again

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basically my criticisms for acid theory are on all tiers/interpretations of it as an life-changing event where he ends up disfigured. i don't think it makes much sense to happen for multiple reasons

for it to happen from a narrative perspective i don't really buy it. spamton's downfall is already tragic in that he lost his friends, his fame and fortune, and got evicted. in regards to the mansion, the eviction itself is the tragedy, in particular that it's implied that it wasn't only him that got evicted that day. a swatchling says that the mansion used to be for high-class citizens. the rooms that were once for these citizens are now for lightners, so it wasn't just that he had no money, he was gonna get kicked out anyway.

i mention this cause a common interp of acid theory is that the mansion staff threw him in as punishment, and i think there's little evidence for that given the circumstances. a while ago i went on this whole spiel about how mischaracterizing queen and/or swatch to try and support the theory makes it weaker to me but that's additional stuff

and about the acid as a threat, it's hard to take it seriously when the majority of mentions of it are for gags or game design-related. for example, the gold berdly statue being dropped into the acid slowly dips in because if it just sank instantly, you could very easily miss it. the swatchling being stranded on the island is a goof with anticipating a battle the moment you set the bridge out for them.

for spamton falling into the acid as an explanation for whatever caused him to be a physical puppet (this is going off of taking the addisons' word that he was an addison too), it doesn't really line up. it doesn't make a lot of sense from a lore standpoint; there's no evidence to suggest that the addisons look like puppets underneath. i mean it's an interesting hc, but to assume it's canon that that's why spamton looks like a puppet now is kinda just filling in blanks.

that one q&a answer where spamton talks about there being some kind of "spamton method" he used every day and became "big" to me implies that it was some kind of slow transformation into a puppet. it's not much to go off of, but it's a lot more compelling than taking a tumble in acid. there's more mystery there and might even explain why spamton showed up to the mansion less over time

i think at this point it's clear that at some point he did get pushed in by someone, as stated in the spa attire from the sweepstakes and one of his valentine's cards, but to me it seems like it was an example of him being mistreated by the other rich residents in the mansion. before he talks about getting pushed in a pool, he mentions that he's gotten swirlies at the mansion, and to me it seems like he's still really bothered by his treatment there which is why he mopes about it.

queen mentioning that the acid can shrink people is also played for jokes, even susie in the ch3 video saying that they'll die if they drink the acid is played for jokes (also i think it would probably hurt them cause they're lightners and not cyber darkners)

anyway, if acid theory ends up being directly confirmed without any cryptic wording and all that i would still dislike it. i just don't think it fits with spamton or ch2's themes and it's randomly dark in a way that's not appealing to me. i like psychological horror more and the puppetfication thing already fits that. i know it's definitely appealing to others and i don't think people are bad for liking it per se, but it's not my kinda thing at all nor do i think it's canon, so i personally want nothing to do with it

#harvey's new text tag #deltarune speculation and unused stuff #deltarune #spamton #(mainly tagging those for my own blog not for the tags themselves)

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iamzer0 · 19 days

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What I think Black Butler characters would be as your parents(°▽°)

𝓢𝓮𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

You would most likely be a demon that he adopted, I believe that demons just sorta pop up in hell and being a hell born is kinda uncommon. He found you in hell wailing, seeing you sparked a parental instinct in him. You warmed his cold heart.

He would be a strict but caring father, he tried to raise you to be a strong demon able to handle yourself when you fled the nest.

He would take you along in his contracts he says it’s to train you but it’s really to keep an eye on you. I feel like you would be like grell when she was learning to be a butler, making mistakes and overall being clumsy.

He would lightly reprimand you and then swiftly clean up your mess and teach you how to do it properly, honestly he would be a good father to you, trying to train you to the best of his ability.

He would go with you when you on your first few contracts, he would say he wants to make sure your doing this right but really he doesn’t want you to leave the nest just yet.

Even when you became capable of taking care of yourself and your master, he would visit you as often as possible. He would seem overbearing to you but he is just a protective father.

If it’s a long contract like ciel’s, he would randomly drop in during a night he is not busy, to visit you and see how your latest contract is going.

He’s a good father, he makes sure you become a strong and capable demon. He is one of those parents that is like “are you positive you are ready to move out?” overall he is a great father.

𝐶𝑖𝑒𝑙

I think you be a child from one of his distant family members, the only reason he knew you existed was he heard your parents sadly died. He heard that you would go to an orphanage and felt his heart pang in sadness. So after thinking bout it he decided to take you in.

I feel like he would come off as a cold, distant parent but he had a soft spot for you. After the public found out about you he became much more protective, worried that you would be kidnapped and used against him.

He would have Sebastian help raise you as he is young and doesn’t know how to raise kids. He would try and raise you to be civil and live up to the phantomhive name.

When Elizabeth found out about you she was all over you, buying you outfits and toys playing dress up with you and making ciel play with you telling him he needs to be attentive.

I think you would sleep in the same bed as him a lot, not that he would mind. He would try and be there for you but sometimes he just doesn’t know what to say or do.

He would either have Sebastian homeschool you or send you to an elite private school. He wants you to be well educated.

When you got older he would reveal to you the truth about Sebastian, which would lead to some tears from you.

He try’s to be a good father to you, he genuinely cares about you and wants you to succeed in life.

𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗱

You are his biological kid for a past relationship, he heard the news of your mother’s death he didn’t want you to end up in an orphanage you are his kid, so he took you in.

He would raise you to be strong, teaching you how to use a gun at a young age. He wants you to be able to take care of yourself when he’s not there.

I think you would end up being a good cook which he says is because of him but we all know it isn’t.

He would be a goofy father, making jokes often. He wants to be there for you making sure you have a good future. You may not be the most educated person in the world but you would have a good heart.

Would have the most insane dad lore and would randomly drop the most insane fact about himself so casually.

ᖴIᑎᑎY

You are most likely a distant member of his family (he’s to nervous to even get near the topic of having kids) after hearing our parents died his heart broke for you he decided to take you in.

He would be the sweetest father ever, you would grow up to be kind like him. He would be really nervous he’s never raised someone so he’s always wore he’s doing the wrong thing.

He would be so cautious with you worried he might hurt you with his strength. He might be too excited and accidentally hiring you he would be a wreck, crying, apologizing profusely.

You would grow up to be strong and a kind person like your father, he would be so proud if you grow up to be someone up there in the world.

𝙼𝚎𝚢-𝚛𝚒𝚗

You are a random orphan she found starving and crying in a basket in some alleyway, she would take you in feeling like you needed a good home.

She would try and be a good mom but she doesn’t know how to take care of kids that well she is nervous like Finny worried she might mess something up.

She would try and give you an education, wanting you to live a good life. She would be a vey sweet and chaotic mom, making messes but always being there for you.

She would raise you to be a respectful well rounded person, I can see her crying at all of your birthdays and events saying “they grow up so fast”

This is part 1, part 2 with be the trancy manor and the reapers! I hope you all had a amazing day remember to drink water bye bye ٩( ᐛ )و

#black butler #black butler headcanons #ciel phantomhive #headcanon #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #fanfic #lol

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winterlogysblog · 7 months

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✨4KOTA 141✨

I have a lot of things to say about this Chapter.

First things first. Sixtus. Love him.

His entrance. Great. 10/10

I also find it so funny how Sixtus' magic is casually dropped on us like this with no explanation, it's frustrating when it comes to analyzing the lore but it's hilarious how casual it was, like yeah Sixtus can do this, this is normal, no need to think about it too much lol. In a sense, this makes sense actually since in the lens of someone who hasn't read 7ds this is just showing what Sixtus can do and will be further explained later.

A little detail I noticed is this.

Apparently, the place they're in currently is the Fairy Kings Forest that was burned years ago. It's quite nice to see how the trees and plants around are starting to grow back and in the distant future it'll grow back to a forest again. It's also intriguing how this place doesn't seem to be affected by Arthur taking chucks of land off Britannia, at least it looks that way.

I also made a previous post that these Chaos mages may just be after the ancient medicine, I'm right on that one and it's called the Drug of Yore and as explained by Sixtus

This very well is the same elixir that King used to cure Elizabeth in Grudge of Edinburgh and after hearing this Mertyl contemplated that it may just be what he needs to essentially "cure" his body.

As established, Sixtus can read minds and it's quite nice to see his reaction when Mertyl thought of this. Sixtus must have known that Mertyl is not really his brother but he still views him as his big bro, he's concerned for him and he knows that that drug won't have any effect because the reason why Mertyl is sickly is because he's a human in the Fairy Realm.

Now, why Arthur's minions are after the Drug of Yore is quite interesting. The Drug of Yore is actually the perfect cure for Diodra and I wonder if Arthur is after it for Ironside's sake (probably not lol)

I also want to take a moment and talk about this panel. King started off outright saying that Nasiens is his long lost son and he's been searching for him this entire time then he backtracks and changes the subject. This is a good moment to note that King wants to tell him the truth but just doesn't know how to discuss it to him. To be fair, it's a hard topic to start.

King went on to discuss Spirit lore and that the tunnel of whispers is a quiet place where you can hear the voices of spirits. This could be the primary reason why he decided to put Percival there. King then added that he has a gift for Nasiens, this could very well be the Drug of Yore that they can use to bring Percival back once they get into contact with his Spirit.

Also, I wanna know whose idea it was to bring Percy to the Fairy Realm, cause sure the Fairy Realm has a place like this but no one could have known unless they asked King about it.

Now, a lot of people speculate on how Mertyl can be manipulated into joining Camelot because of his desire to get the Drug of Yore and King's inevitable decision to give it to Nasiens. Which is a cute plotline but not anything major.

A lot of people also want the pace to speed up a bit and focus on the knights. Which to be fair, yeah we should. But this arc does a few things for the plot, this arc is basically showing us the way to bring Percival back and introducing new characters that will be relevant later on, also we gotta remember that Lancelot is King's nephew and he could pop up at any time.

I can see the Drug of Yore and Percival's revival to be center stage for this arc, as all plot points are connected to it. King seems to know a whole lot about Life Spirits and Spirits in general so he could be Percy's guide into understanding himself better.

Overall, a great Chapter can't wait for the next one.

#4kota 141 #four knights of the apocalypse #nanatsu no taizai #seven deadly sins #nnt #4kota #mokushiroku no yon kishi #mokushiroku no yonkishi #seven deadly sins sequel #nanatsu no taizai mokushiroku no yonkishi

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wonuwrites · 5 months

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OT13 Seventeen’s Reaction to you being a Swiftie during “The Tortured Poets Department” release date.

A/N: It’s been an emotional 24ish hours because Taylor Swift gave us 31 fucking new songs and they all hurt so good. Expect some angsty things from me based off some of these songs soon LOL. Side note, this wont be perfect because it’s 1:30 am and I’m feeling feelings. I hope y’all enjoy regardless.

Warning: minor angst, major fluff, mentions some alcohol stuff, The Tortured Poets Department is an emotional roller coaster and has some heavy topics. Listen at own risk but also hear the tea LMAO

P.S dedicating this to @lavnderwonu bc yup. #wow

✫ S Coups

Seungcheol walked through the door at 2 am and saw you sitting at the kitchen table with a worn out look on your face. He noticed in front of you, ice cream that had been half melted waiting for you to take another bite. He knew that you were waiting up for Taylor Swifts new album and from what he had heard from you, this potentially would be the saddest album to date. Yes, even more sad than Red. He stood there for a while unsure what to say which made you look up at him.

“Babe… she released a double album. We’ve been clowning a double since 1989 era back in 2014 and she finally did it.”

He raised an eyebrow at this and sat next to you, “well thats good right? Your clowning was finally successful?”

You scoffed before rubbing your mouth and looking him in the eyes, “I mean yeah, but like. It’s so fucking sad. I can’t believe he did this to her.”

Seungcheol just softly smiled while taking the spoon from your hand so he could scoop himself some ice cream as well. He didn’t know much about Taylor lore but he did think she was a talented artist. “Well I got a few hours, show me the album.”

✫ Jeonghan

Jeonghan found your love for Taylor to be precious. So when he found out in February she was releasing a new album he asked if there was anything he could do to help prepare you for the album release.

That’s when you decided to do a Swiftie 101 with Jeonghan and told him all the lore behind whats been going on since the Reputation Era to now. At first he was skeptical at having to need to know that much background information but he learned to love watching you talk about something you cared about so passionately.

When it was time for the album to be released, he was ready. He wrote down questions he had while you both listened to the album because he didn’t want to interrupt your experience of listening to the song for the first time. He held your hand when “So Long London” came on and coo’d when you cried during “loml” while wiping a tear from your eye. He made a mental note to thank Taylor Swift if he ever met her for being able to give his partner and him a bonding experience.

✫Joshua

Hell, Joshua was with you on the couch and clowning with you while watching the Grammys. You were positive Reputation (Taylor’s Version) was going to be announced at the Grammys and tbh Joshua believed your assumptions were right as always.

When Taylor announced her new album instead of Reputation TV, both of your mouths dropped. It was a new era. You both then decided to start planning on spending time with each other that night. He knew he was pushing it just a bit because Seventeens album was coming out the next week but he also knew he wanted to be there for you in case it was emotional. Which, was pretty much a given it was going to be because it was called “The Tortured Poets Department.”

When the day finally came, you both made friendship bracelets and ate some snacks while enjoying the mastery of her pen. You both found the album to be extremely well done.

✫Jun

Jun was not sure what to expect when you had become a bit distant the last few weeks. You were talking to him less and less and it honestly was causing him some concerns. Did he do something wrong? Were you dying? Were you okay?

He decided to do what anyone would do and come over unannounced with flowers and your favorite Take Out. He was not expecting to see you sobbing on the couch with smeared eyeliner and mascara as you were reading the lyrics to a new song off of Taylor’s new album called “The Prophecy.”

You didn’t notice Jun standing there awkward as your heart broke into a million pieces as you thought about how you were before you met Jun. You were so blessed to have him in your life but you just felt sick that Blondie was feeling that way. Once the song ended you finally saw Jun and started crying harder and that’s when it hit him.

Album release day.

Similar thing had happened after Midnights dropped and you heard “You’re On Your Own Kid.” He then brought over your food and listened while you babbled to him about “The Prophecy” and why it was the saddest song you had ever heard.

✫Hoshi

“Hey Soonyoung I have a question for you,” you asked him while spinning Ramen around in your bowl. This made your boyfriend look up worried. One because you called him his real name and not “baby” and two, he never could tell what type of question you would ask.

He cleared his throat while giving you a concerned look which made you giggle. That giggle made his fears increase but he decided to humor you. Maybe you were finally going to ask him something simple like: “would you still love me if I was a worm?”

However, he just wasn’t that lucky.

“So Taylor Swift’s album “The Tortured Poets Department” is coming out soon and I was wondering if you could break up with me before it so I can feel it.”

Soonyoung was absolutely flabbergasted and shook his head no quickly. This made you while and pathetically try to beg but Soonyoung stood his ground and crossed his arms.

“Baby, you’re going to have to use imagination for that because I can’t ever break up with you. Just thinking of doing that hurts me.”

“I know baby, but hear me out, this album is rumored to be about her breakup of 6 years. I wanna cry with her.” Soonyoung shook his head no again with his lips pursed. He knew you loved Taylor but he loved you so much more. He’d do anything for you but not that. Even if it was temporary or fake.

✫ Wonwoo

Similarly to Jeonghan, Wonwoo got the Swiftie 101 class except yours happened while y’all were snuggling before bed randomly one evening.

Therefore, he knew the drill and knew how to be a supportive Swiftie boyfriend. Did he have your favorite wine? Check. Did he have tissues? Check. Did he have a shoulder to cry on if you needed it? You’re in luck, he has two!

He poured you both a glass of wine as you pressed play on Fortnight (which he was looking forward to because Post Malone is the man.) After a few songs you had already downed your wine and he quickly refilled it making you blush and thank him quietly. You both then listened to the remainder of the album and he’d give the famous wonu smile whenever you were guessing who the songs were about. Heck, after a while, even he joined in on the guessing game.

✫Woozi

Unknown to you, Jihoon had pre-saved TTPD and listened to it in his studio within a minute of it coming out. While he didn’t know about the lore or any behind the scenes things about Taylor Swift he focused on the lyrics and production of the songs and was impressed. He made little notes to talk to you about them when he got home.

Once he got home at about 3:30 am, he noticed you were sitting with your legs against your chest still listening to the album. He smiled at you and sat beside you. You leaned against him sighing as he wrapped his arms around you to cuddle. He knew you felt sad because of the album and honestly it was sad so he didn’t blame you one bit.

“So she released an additional 15 songs,” you said after awhile which made Jihoon raise an eyebrow. He only listened to the first 16 songs and suddenly he didn’t feel as prepared.

“15???”

“15!”

“Damn… well iI got notes on the first 16 songs if you wanna talk about those.”

This made you sit up with a smile which made Jihoon smile as well before leaning in to kiss you. “Deal.”

✫ DK

Like Jun, Seokmin had witnessed Midnights album release with you along with the Taylor’s Versions of both Speak Now and 1989. He thought he was mentally prepared for this Album but he was so wrong.

Y’all had just finished “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” and when “Down Bad” started he officially felt his heart break.

It was as if Seokmin and your tear ducts were synced as tears fell down both of your faces. At that moment, Seokmin made an oath to you he would never put you in a situation that Taylor unfortunately had to endure.

Once you finally got through all 16 songs and both were ready to fall asleep, Taylor announced and additional 15. Seokmin just looked at the announcement in disbelief before sitting up and saying “okay baby, lets cry some more.”

✫ Mingyu

To be honest, Mingyu loved doing the scavenger hunts that Taylor and Taylor Nation had the swifties do. He found it so interesting the little clues and everything they had that he was a bit jealous they didn’t have something like that with Seventeen. It was a brilliant idea and a great way to bring some excitement to the table for a new album.

Watching you bite your lip as you looked through older songs of hers on Apple Music to find the clues was so attractive to him and he’d look into your eyes as you shared theories on what Tortured Poets would be about.

He just found you so precious and loved these little moments together with you and was happy to be there.

✫ Minghao

Minghao promised to listen to the new album with you but he couldn’t help but feel upset at what was being talked about.

It wasn’t that he didn’t think it was good. He was just so disappointed in whoever Taylor was singing about because of the infidelity, lying, and just treating her like garbage. His heart then hurt when you innocently told him the lyrics were relatable.

Minghao knew you had a rough relationship prior to yours and it made him sad that he wasn’t able to be there sooner so he could help you overcome the hurt. He tried his best to hide the rage and hurt he felt empathetically to you in hopes not to ruin the album for you. However, you knew. You knew how he felt and while you never would tell him, you fell more in love with him at that moment. How beautiful it was to finally have someone who you know could never hurt you like that again.

✫ Seungkwan

Similarly to Joshua and Wonwoo, Seungkwan stayed up to listen to the album with you. It was a tradition you both did for your favorite artists. You had done it a month prior with Beyonce’s “Cowboy Carter” and now it was time to stop yeehawing and time to cry.

Even though you were more of the Swiftie between you two, even he couldn’t help but feel emotional while listening to the album. When you both first listened to “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart” you both had to pause before going to the next song.

You paused because you felt horrible for Taylor meanwhile, he paused because he could relate to the lyrics so much. Seungkwan couldn’t help but think of his hiatus last year and how he felt after coming back. When he started to cry you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him and cry with him.

✫ Vernon

Hansol walked into your shared apartment and saw you lying on the floor disassociated and couldn’t help but find you adorable. He had given you a day to listen to the album per your request and from the looks of it, it fucked you up.

He decided to lay next to you in support while holding your hand which made you instantly squeeze his hand three times. “Guessing the album was good?”

“No, it was great. Just so sad.”

He hummed and pulled you closer to him and petted your hair. You took it as an invitation to tell him all about the album. You couldn’t see his face but he had a sad smile on his face. He felt bittersweet. Bitter because he knew you were hurting but sweet because he found it enduring that you trusted him this much to be vulnerable with him.

✫ Dino

You decided that you would listen to the album by yourself the first time around. Chan was respectful about it and waited patiently to hear the outcome.

After you listened to it all you made your way to Chan and curled up in a ball next to him. He instinctively wrapped an arm around you and pressed a kiss to your temple. “So what did you think?”

“There were two songs that made me think of you.”

This made him worried because from what you told him this album was rumored to be about the end of Taylor’s 6 year relationship and he thought that y’all were golden. Y’all hadn’t been fighting and everything was okay.

The look on his face made you laugh before pressing a kiss on his lips, “listen to them before you worry.”

You then put on The Alchemy and So High School for him and his heart felt like it exploded with happiness and relief. He kissed you before cheekily asking, “So… I’m your Travis Kelce?” You nodded with a smile, “and I’m your Taylor Swift.”

He laughed before giving you another kiss, “then I’ll make sure you constantly stay bejeweled.”

A/N: this was so corny but im kicking my feet. Check on your Swiftie friends. We are not okay 🥺

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robotic-rin · 1 year

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Psychosomatic Freedom (To Your Head)

(Beetlejuice x Reader)

Summary: Renting out the spare bedroom in the Maitland/Deetz mansion was wacky enough when you found out you’d be living with real life ghosts, but things only got more intense when a certain demon was thrown into the mix as well. Not only does he pride himself on annoying you whenever you’re busy, but he chooses to do so in ways that make you regrettably very horny for him. You do well at keeping your flustered reactions under control when you’re around him, but please try to remember that he WILL appear if you say his name three times, no matter the context or intent.

Word Count: 13,840

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: horny demon escapades, a dash of praise kink, even smaller dash of humiliation kink if you squint, beetlejuice being a bastard but he also whimpers, hurt/comfort, emotionally vulnerable handjobs, afab reader (no gendered terms are used aside from beej referring to reader’s “tits” bc of him being the way that he is), tried to limit my use of (y/n) but it is in there, monster fangs/tongues, overuse of bj’s mood ring hair, beetlejuice is so annoying that he loops back around into being majorly fuckable

Author’s Note: it’s finally happened. i’ve been meaning to write this fic for years, and i finally gathered the willpower to write it all out. i don’t know if i properly followed the post-musical summoning rules but tbh i just wrote this bc i wanna fuck beetlejuice and i didn’t do a lot of lore checking, apologies. i hope y’all enjoy regardless, this demon needs to be dommed so bad and i was more than happy to provide the scenario. anyways, you know the drill: if you’re good with all the tags and are 18+, please enjoy!

You can’t clearly remember the moment you realized that taking up residence in the Maitland/Deetz household was going to be more than you bargained for. The living family was eccentric enough, let alone the fact that they were currently cohabiting with a friendly ghost family. You had to be willing to accept a lot of zany things very quickly when you went in to sign the paperwork to rent out the mansion’s spare bedroom, and you’d say that you’ve taken everything in stride so far, all things considered. Charles and Delia Deetz were nice enough and stayed out of your business just as you did with theirs. They had been a bit strapped for cash after their investment in a gated neighborhood fell through, and it seemed as though they were happy enough to make some money off of renting out their guest bedroom to a sane person who mostly kept to themself. It was a win for everyone, so you got along just fine. Their daughter, Lydia Deetz, was less into staying out of your way, but she wasn’t rude about it by any means. She seemed to just be an eccentric teen who was curious about the person living in her house, and you’d gladly indulge her out-of-the-box conversation topics about the newest death metal bands and join her for an occult ritual or two. Classic teen stuff.

Of course, sharing a house with a living family was one thing, but adding a ghost family to the mix definitely livened things up (ironically). Adam and Barbara Maitland, also known as the previous owners of the house who had suffered a tragic premature death, were not what you expected from real life ghosts. It’s hard to say what you did expect when that bombshell was dropped on you, but it definitely wasn’t two polite suburban Millennials that felt more like a caricature of a couple you’d meet at a vegan farmers’ market than restless spirits haunting their old house. It was a wild day when you met them, assuming that Lydia was having a bit of fun with you when she’d ominously warned you that their house was haunted. But no, she was certainly not, as the couple took your moving-in day as their chance to formally introduce themselves. You didn’t actually believe that they were truly dead until Adam walked through a wall for you days later. Despite being slightly bummed that they didn’t look like the classic ghost with little wispy tails for feet, you were also a bit relieved that, although ghosts definitively exist, they can be just as friendly and unremarkable as any human. Not to say it as a knock against them, you actually found yourself hanging out with the Maitlands more than anyone else in the house. Against all odds, they were the most normal and down-to-earth ones in the whole household, and you were grateful to have them as housemates.

You got to hear all about how they got to the living arrangement they had now, and if you weren’t already rooming with ghosts, you’d have considered it too unbelievable to be true. But you’re glad to hear how well everyone seems to be doing with this new living arrangement, especially Lydia, who it seems had a really rough time of it right after her mom died. All things considered, you were beginning to really enjoy living in such a crazy house with such colorful personalities around you, all unique but living in harmony. Well. At least until he showed up.

You’d been warned that he does this from time to time. Part of their story told how he went from full-on antagonist to the weird uncle of the family, now popping in whenever he felt like it, often unannounced. He always claimed it was just to check in on his favorite mixed-life family, but in reality, it was mostly just to bother everybody.

As long as you live and die, you’ll never forget the first time he’d made one of his surprise visits after you’d moved in. You’d been sitting alone at the long dining room table, minding your own business as you typed away at important work on your laptop, fully lost in your task. Important files for your work lined your screen, all perfectly organized and sorted through after a long day’s work. But then, with no warning, your laptop’s display had changed to a blue screen, causing your eyes to widen in horror as you realized that it had fully died on you and probably lost all of your progress. You felt yourself choke out a horrible sound of despair, before a hand seemingly appeared from nowhere and pulled the blue screen back as though furling up a classroom projector screen, revealing your undisturbed desktop behind it.

“Woah, that was almost a really expensive mistake,” a gruff but playful voice laughed, coming from right next to you. “I forget how touchy technology can be when it comes to spirit energy. My bad, heh.”

You had whipped your head to the side to see a disheveled-looking man with bright green hair dressed in a black-and-white striped suit that looked like it needed to be washed and dry cleaned about 10 years ago. He was grimy, but almost purposefully grimy. Like it was part of his aesthetic. You’d seen some wild happenings in this house, but the sudden materialization of this random weird guy in the dining room was the first to leave you speechless.

“W-what…how…you just….” If first impressions truly were everything, he’d surely always think of you as the pinnacle of eloquence.

The stranger grinned at your reaction, obviously a bit pleased with himself. “No words, huh? Wouldn’t be the first time, I do tend to inspire that reaction in people. My undeniable charms aside, who are you? Some long-lost Deetz cousin visiting from WhoTheFuckKnowsVille or something?”

You finally regained enough of your speech abilities to respond just in time. “Uh, no. Just…renting the spare bedroom. No relation.” There was a moment of silence as he looked at you inquisitively, before you remembered your manners. “Um, I’m (Y/N). Am I right to assume that you’re Beetlejuice?” Hey, why do I need to have manners after he almost just fried my laptop? Your bitter thoughts go unfortunately unanswered.

He looked positively elated at your words, his dark eyes visibly lighting up as he sidled up next to you in your chair, ignoring the fact that it was clearly only made for one person. “Oh, wonderful! I get to skip the charades part with you. You’re already my new favorite person just for that, you don’t know how much I hate playing guessing games when the answer hasn’t changed in hundreds of years. But yes, that’s my name, don’t wear it out. Unless you want to see me. Then all you gotta do is say it three times in a row, and I’m there, baby. Morning or night, rain or shine.” Boy, this guy talks a lot.

You nodded slowly, still bewildered. “Ah, alright. Sounds good. Did you…need anything?” You couldn’t, for the life of you, get an idea of what Beetlejuice would be doing here.

He huffed noncommittally. “Well, usually I come around to see everyone here, since the Netherworld gets reeeaaaalllly boring. But lately, Lydia’s gone so much at school, and my old flames Adam and Barbara don’t always have time for lil ol’ me anymore…” He made a pitiful little face and rested his head on your shoulder, acting like a kicked dog. Despite his bad manners and lack of personal space, you felt a piece of yourself feel bad for the demon. Looking back, that was your first mistake.

“Hey, don’t be upset. I know we just met, but if you come by and nobody’s here, I could always…hang out? For a bit?” And that was mistake number two.

His full demeanor shifted in an instant, as though you’d activated a switch on him that could never be turned off. “Really? You’d spend time? With me?” For a demon, he did have very effective puppy dog eyes. If you weren’t locked in on what you said before, you had to be now, looking him in the eye as he turned his full body towards you, inches from your face.

“Sure, I’m usually just hanging out around the house getting work done anyway. I could use a little company sometimes.” It felt more like you were talking yourself into this decision rather than him.

“Oh friend, you won’t regret it! We’ll have such a nice time together, I can just feel it. Don’t ask where, heh.” He pulled out a small business card from thin air and slid it smoothly between your fingers. “And remember babes, you want me, you just call my name. I wouldn’t keep someone as smokin’ as you waiting. Not like I have a choice.” Snickering to himself, he’d disappeared in a flash, leaving you with your head spinning as you wondered exactly what you’d agreed to.

As time passed, you found that you didn’t even need to call his name for Beetlejuice to show up in the middle of your day and start pestering you. Eventually, it got to a point where, even when the other members of the family were around, he’d still choose to hang around you over them at times. After a good while, you got to a point where you nearly forgot that calling his name three times would summon him due to how often he popped in of his own volition with no warning at all. And somehow, he only ever seemed to do this on days where you had something that really needed to get done, never just on a day where you were already lazing about on the couch and eating snacks. No, instead, he acted like a bored cat with no sense of responsibility whose only goal was to distract you, and it’s a goal that he prided himself in succeeding at through various methods. Turning your pencil into a baby sandworm, making the keys on your laptop keyboard detach and float away, grabbing whatever you’re working on and zipping it up in a pocket dimension for a few minutes. One time, he straight up ate an important stack of papers from your desk whole because you weren’t looking when he told you he was about to do a cool trick. Anything to rile you up and steal your attention for a bit.

You find yourself in another situation like that on today of all days, when you’re swamped in assignments and don’t have a moment to spare. You can already feel his unseen eyes watching you as you sit hunched over your large desk-vanity, checking out what you’re up to before he acts. You’ve developed almost a sixth sense for detecting him when he’s invisible at this point, but somehow knowing that he’s secretly here just makes your heart race faster. There’s no feeling quite like trying to predict the first move of a master scarer while he’s in the room, but you quickly decide to put a stop to it today.

“I know you’re there, Beetlejuice,” you say, clear and stern. It would really emphasize how serious and non-playful you’re feeling today, if not for the way the corners of your mouth turn upwards of their own accord. Fight though you might, your body always gives away how much you enjoy the little games you two play. You allow your eyes to slowly wander away from your glowing laptop screen to stare at the large mirror in front of you, hoping to catch a glimpse of his figure lurking behind you and catch him before he can put whatever plan he has into action. Just as you’re scanning the reflection for anything that seems off, your vision is engulfed by a sharp toothy grin manifesting in front of you from within the mirror.

“Boo.”

He can barely get the first syllable out uninterrupted before you’re screaming and jumping back so far that you nearly fall backwards out of your chair, only catching your balance at the last moment. You turn your fiery gaze up to his smug face, still sticking halfway out of your mirror.

“You rat bastard!” You’re panting so hard that you can’t even think of a clever insult for him outside of playground swears, which only seem to egg him on.

He flutters his eyelashes innocently. “Aww, you liked it that much? Well, I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. There’s plenty more where that came from, heh.” He sticks a long, snake-like striped tongue out of his mouth as if to cheekily punctuate his statement.

Despite yourself, you feel your face beginning to flush at his suggestive behavior and turn your back on the mirror to conceal your expression. You don’t want to admit it, but over the past few months, you had developed an issue even bigger than the simple annoyance of a demon constantly pestering you: you found yourself feeling really attracted to Beetlejuice’s stupid face and mannerisms. Even though he was insufferable, he was also undeniably cute and charismatic in a strange way, and he always managed to get you riled up in more ways than one through his teasing. This would only make you all the more bothered by his antics, which in turn would make him want to press your buttons even more. It was a vicious cycle that only ever ended up in you feeling a unique mix of irritated and hot under the collar after he left. Why, why was I cursed with attraction to this rude little gremlin man? He’s gross, and crude, and annoying…and yet.

You wrinkle your nose to dismiss your thoughts, still looking away from Beetlejuice. “So did you come just to make sure I don’t get these assignments turned in on time, or what?”

“Or…what.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see him slide out of the mirror like a long snake, coming back up to full height standing next to your chair. “You know how lonely I get in the stupid Netherworld, so checking up on my faaaavorite little breather is a great way to fill my social meter.” He gets a little too close to your ear, stretching out that “favorite” into almost a growl, and you practically stop breathing trying to minimize the shiver that overtakes your body. Fuck this guy’s stupid sexy voice.

Hoping he didn’t notice your reaction, you turn your body to face him and stand up from your chair defiantly, face to face with his usual shit-eating grin. “What, you just don’t talk to anybody else in this house anymore? It feels like you only ever visit me nowadays, and I really have no idea what I’ve done to be cursed with the privilege of being your favorite human.”

Beetlejuice looks up thoughtfully, as though truly trying to figure out how this relationship came to be, bringing his face closer still to yours. “Well, you are the only person who’s ever voluntarily offered to spend quality time with me.” The answer is so earnest and straightforward, it steals the next witty retort from your lips and you just gawk at him, inches away. His eyes quickly dart down. “Hm, plus, you do have the best tits I’ve seen in a few centuries.” There it is.

You roll your eyes and groan, gently pushing his face away from you with your entire hand, only for him to lick a long stripe down your palm with his tongue. “Ugh, you are so gross!” You relent and move to wipe your hand on your shirt instead.

“Only for you, babes,” he coos with half-lidded eyes.

“That is demonstrably false.”

“Ok fine, how about: especially for you?”

“Well, it’s closer to the truth at least.” You fold your arms and cock your head. “What did you wanna do, then?”

“Oh, you should know better than to give me so much control here, (Y/N). There’s a lotta things I’d like to do with you.” He runs his tongue over fanged teeth teasingly, causing your heart to race once again. Beetlejuice really is a demon without a doubt, because he’s perfectly created my own personal hell. He must be some kind of divine punishment for my wrongdoings. A sexy demon who flirts with me endlessly, and I have to just be normal about it because there’s no way he’s serious. Maybe I burned down orphanages in a past life to deserve this.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’d probably turn me inside out or something fucked up if you got the freedom of choice. I’ll pick, then.” You quickly scan your brain for the quickest, most painless way to get him out of your hair. “How about a game?”

His face lights up with mischief. “Twister?”

“No,” you respond flatly.

“Spin the bottle?”

“No.”

“Hungry Hungry Hippos?”

“N-what? How is that even-“

“Oh, it’s not a euphemism, I just genuinely like that one.”

You sigh in defeat. “Ok, no to all of those. I was thinking more along the lines of The Quiet Game. You sit over there and be quiet, and I sit over here and get my work done, and if you stay quiet the whole time, we can watch a movie or something afterwards.” You say all of this knowing very well that it’s a pipe dream. Even if he were to be totally silent, Beetlejuice would have no problem finding new and inventive ways to torment you. He’s quite talented at that, as both of you are keenly aware.

Upon hearing your proposal, Beetlejuice furrows his brow and wrinkles his nose in a way similar to a petulant child about to throw a tantrum. “The Quiet Game? Are you serious, I-hmph, well, I can tell when I’m not wanted! I don’t need your pity games, I have plenty of exciting and important work things to do myself, like…um. Well, I’d have to check my dossier, but I’m sure there’s plenty of ‘em!” He spins away from you dramatically, drooping his shoulders to appear more pathetic. It works, unfortunately.

Your gaze softens slightly as you take a step towards him. “Beej, c’mon, it’s not that I don’t wanna hang out, I just really need to finish-“

“Yeah, yeah, human work, I know it.” He whirls around to poke at your chest accusingly. “Well, don’t let me be a roadblock to you, Professor Workaholic. I’ll remove myself from your esteemed presence. Just don’t come crawling back to me when you’ve worked yourself to death! I’ll be too busy. Filing shit. Or whatever.” His voice warbles at the end, and you’re not entirely sure if he’s doing it on purpose or not. He’s not the easiest guy to read, though you do think you catch a flash of purple streaking its way through his otherwise green hair. Without giving you time to respond, Beetlejuice pulls out a pair of scissors and snips a long hole in reality, stepping through it with one last pitiful look at you before flipping you off and stitching it up behind him, causing it to blip out of existence.

Just like that, he’s gone, and you quickly realize that you may not have wanted this outcome as much as you’d thought. He’s a bit abrasive, but he’s not wrong. A break would’ve been good for me, and spending time with him is always…a lot, but never boring. We always have fun together. You groan to yourself, frustrated that your brain has decided to come around only after Beetlejuice had already dipped. Damn, I shouldn’t have let him leave.

Seeing no point in taking a break on your own, you sigh, sit back down, and attempt to keep trucking through your work. It’s mind-numbingly dull, and you keep finding your brain wandering off to thoughts of Beetlejuice. His poor little demon schtick really does work, I can’t stand to think about how sad he looked as he was leaving. His big, expressive eyes…how cute and proud of himself he looked after successfully scaring me earlier…his pointy tongue running across those sharp fangs. Fuck… You find yourself blushing at the mere memory of that last one, your conscious mind pleading that you stop finding it as sexy as you do. But try as you may, there’s no changing the fact that Beetlejuice’s playful antics paired with his handsome face have spelled your doom. You’re down bad, worked up, and all alone. Well, looks like this work won’t be getting done because of Beetlejuice even without him here. Fuck it.

Giving in to your body’s demands, you stand up from the desk chair and head over to your bed, taking your pants off on the way and tossing them haphazardly into a corner to start gathering wrinkles. You have bigger things on your mind at the moment; specifically, imagining what Beetlejuice’s long tongue might feel like dragging across your skin. Feeling goosebumps beginning to rise already, you recline onto the bed and slip your hand into your underwear, wasting no time as you begin rubbing slow circles into your clit. You’re almost embarrassed at the fact that you’re already fairly wet just from thinking about him, but then again, it’s not really that surprising. Ok, yeah, this is exactly what I needed. Well, maybe not exactly. If it was perfect, he’d really be here fucking me. The mere idea of that causes your fingers to speed up their ministrations, attempting to replicate the pleasure your mind is imagining in real time. You’ve been here before, touching yourself at the thought of having sex with that demon, but it’s starting to happen more often than you’d care to admit.

Ignoring your inner voice of shame, you focus your whole energy on getting yourself off, your hips twitching involuntarily as you continue. You’re audibly panting at this point, chasing your release at a fast pace. No need for slow pleasantries, this is just about me relieving some tension. Once I’m done, maybe I’ll actually be able to focus on something besides him. Maybe.

After a short while, you can quickly feel your release approaching as you continue to think of him. You’re so close, you can tell that you’re starting to lose yourself. You imagine his big brown eyes looking up at you, expression clouded with lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His pointed fangs scraping your inner thighs… “Beetlejuice…” His lewd face as you suck his cock... “Beetlejuice!”

“Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawling ba-“

Pulled from the brink, you practically jump straight up in the air from where you lay in bed as you hear a familiar voice, too authentic to be fantasy. You snap your head up to see Beetlejuice standing at the foot of your bed, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them and streaks of hot pink just starting to tint his hair.

You quickly regain your senses and pull up the covers. “B-BEETLEJUICE?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Beetlejuice, however, is not as fast on the recovery. “I…you…” Slack-jawed and speechless, he stutters out a few syllables that somewhat resemble words before shaking his head as if to clear his brain. “H-hang on, you’re the one who summoned me!”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, I…” Your world suddenly comes crashing down on you with the weight of a thousand bricks. “…did. Oh, God, I did…” Your face begins to turn red hot, the obvious implications of this scenario making you want to pass away on the spot. Nope, not even death would help me get out of this one.

You can practically see the gears in Beetlejuice’s head turning, albeit slowly. “You…you summoned me? You called out my name three times. While…” The sudden lightbulb moment is very visible as his hand moves to cover his mouth and dozens more streaks of neon pink suddenly overtake his hair, his face darkening to match. For a moment, you worry that you’ve broken him, only for the demon to finally meet your gaze with a goofy grin that only spreads wider by the moment. “You like me, don’t you?”

“Obviously, dipshit!” You grab a decorative pillow from next to you and toss it at his head, which he easily dodges. You can only think to react with righteous indignation, despite the fact that this situation really is entirely your fault. Probably a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the fact that you’d really love to melt into a puddle on the floor right now.

Beetlejuice, on the other hand, seems far more elated about this than you’d ever expected, practically jumping around for joy. “You do! You really do like me! And it’s gotta be a lot, considering the fact that you like me enough to call out my name when you masturbate, heh. Do you do that often, or did I just do really well at seducing you today?” He strikes a mock sexy pose as if to prove his point.

Despite the added embarrassment of him calling you out so easily, you sit up straighter and raise an eyebrow inquisitively. “You’re…not mad?”

Beetlejuice looks practically bewildered at the very notion. “Me? Mad? Why would I be mad? I’ve been flirting with you so hard that I was offering to drop your panties since the day we met, and you think I’d be mad to see that you wanted it to happen just as bad as I did? Wow, you humans really are funny sometimes.”

“Wait, you were being serious? I thought you acted like that with everyone.”

He opens his mouth to defend himself, closes it after a moment of silence, and then moves to coyly rub his neck instead. “Ok, yeah, when you put it like that, I can see where the confusion comes in here. But yes, I meant everything I said! And I mean everything, babes.” He waggles his eyebrows for ridiculous punctuation.

You blink up at him in shock. No fucking way this is happening. No way is this demon freely admitting that he wants to have sex with me right back, no jokes anywhere to be seen. This must be a dream.

But Beetlejuice is still standing at the end of your bed, real as ever, and beginning to look more than a little bit antsy. “So, um…you gonna invite me to join you, or just make me watch? ‘Cuz to be honest, I, uh, wouldn’t hate either outcome here, so long as I can stay.”

You have a decision to make. You could say his name three times right now to banish him and never speak of this incident again as long as you both shall live and die, or you could finally get to live out the fantasies that have been plaguing you ceaselessly as of late. In the end, it isn’t even really a choice when the best answer is so easily clear.

Your eyes flick up to meet his. “Come here. On your knees.”

Beetlejuice’s face lights up at this command. “Oho, you don’t have to ask me twice!” With that, he practically dives to the floor at your bedside, looking up at you expectantly.

You smile slightly, turning to face Beetlejuice and slide your lower torso out from under the sheets to hang your legs off the side of the bed. Before he can say something lewd, you move to cup his face with your hands. Immediately, he seems taken aback at your gentle action from the stunned, blinking look on his face. Smiling softly, you begin rubbing his beard with your thumbs in a way that makes his eyes roll back into his head a bit. Boy, is he touch-starved. Let’s fix that.

Without another word, you lean in and bring your lips to his, giving him a fairly sweet kiss that he absolutely melts into. You never would’ve expected it of a demon, but Beetlejuice really does have the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and returns the energy you give him tenfold. It’s pretty cute how much a simple kiss seems to affect him, and you aren’t complaining as you feel his sharp teeth scrape your lips, either. You part your lips a bit to allow his tongue entrance, and he accepts the invitation immediately. His inhumanly long tongue slips in your mouth, wrapping around and rubbing against your tongue almost like a tentacle or other complex appendage. You scrunch up your face at the intrusion, not bad, but strange how it feels as though it’s investigating your mouth of its own accord, prodding and rubbing at you. It’s definitely different from kissing a regular human, but it’s pretty hot, so you’re not complaining by any means. After a few moments, you feel the need to break away and come up for air, panting for breath while Beetlejuice just kneels there in front of you motionless, like he’s just had a particularly amazing out-of-body experience.

After getting a good amount of air into your lungs, you give a small fond smile at his flustered demeanor. “Oh, Beetlejuice, I’m sorry I was so dismissive of you earlier,” you soothe, moving one hand to stroke his neon hair. “You were really just looking out for me, weren’t you?”

He audibly gulps. “Y-yeah…”

“Aw, you really are sweet. I shouldn’t have been so mean to you, baby.”

The more affectionate words you say, the less composed he is as he speaks, made clear by his bright red face and dopey grin. “Heh, s’okay…I kinda like it when you’re mean to me…” Beetlejuice averts his gaze and sinks his face into your hand as he says this. His words are so muffled that they’re almost unintelligible, but you manage to make them out just fine.

“Oh? You do? You really like it when I’m mean to you?” He nods his head quickly, still looking down in embarrassment. Well, this is already going better than I could’ve ever hoped. “Hm, I think I can do that for you. How about you show me how good that tongue really feels, to start off?” You spread your legs suggestively, his head at the perfect level.

Beetlejuice bites his lip in anticipation, his shyness melting away as he’s reminded of getting you off. “Oh yeah, I’ll show you, alright. You have no idea what you’re in for, babes. I’m well-known for my skills in this field, you’ll have the time of y-mmph!” His blathering is interrupted by you grabbing the black tie that hangs around his neck and tugging him closer to you with a swift motion, drawing a whimper from the demon.

“Can’t talk and eat pussy at the same time.”

“Mm, y-you underestimate my abilities…” Beetlejuice always has to have the last word, but he at least doesn’t waste any more time. Tentatively, he slides both of his clawed hands up from your knees to your inner thighs, spreading your legs a bit more to allow more room for his head to fit between them. Your underwear is still on, albeit completely soaked through, which he seems to note with a quiet smug look up at you. In one swift move, he hooks two clawed fingers from each hand around the narrowest strip of the fabric on the sides of your thighs and pulls the garment down slowly, never once breaking eye contact. You’re filled with a nerve-wracking sensation of nakedness as he does this, not just physically, but on a deeper level too. You never realized how deeply revealing it is to have someone watching your expression so shamelessly, gauging your exact reaction as he undresses you. It makes you feel transparent and fully see-through, like a ghost.

Finally, Beetlejuice slips your underwear off of your body fully, twirling it around one of his fingers in pride before pulling back and slingshotting it away with reckless abandon. Returning his head to rest right between your thighs, where there is nothing blocking him from his goal now. You half-expect a stupid remark now that he’s finally right where he’s been aching to be, but he takes you by surprise by just staring at your body in silent reverence for a moment. It’s almost eerie to hear such a long silence from Beetlejuice, who’s made it his full-time career to annoy you up to this point, but it’s kind of flattering at the same time. After a few beats, he seems to shake himself out of his own stupor and looks up at you with a more familiar lopsided smirk.

Before either of you can say anything, he seems to remember that he was given a job to do and begins to unfurl that tongue that you’ve been daydreaming so much about. At full length, it’s about a foot long, forked and striped, always looking like it’s moving of its own accord like a dark slimy tentacle. You’ve seen him loll it out before, so you know good and well what it looks like, but that was always when Beetlejuice was trying to entertain you by acting silly or creepy. In a situation like this, however, it was almost enough to make you feel faint. Consequences be damned, this is the best decision I’ve ever made.

Ever a creature of impatience, Beetlejuice leans down to lick a long, slow stripe starting at the bottom of your pussy and working his way to the top, right up the middle. As soon as he makes contact, you feel as though an electric shock has shot through your lower abdomen. The first thing that your mind registers is how surprisingly cold his tongue is. Sometimes you forget that he’s not a living human and doesn’t have the natural warmth that you’ve come to expect from people. Instead, his body has a natural chilliness to it, and you’ve wondered before if that’s a demon trait or just a Beetlejuice-specific quirk. Either way, the feeling of his long, cold tongue on your pussy is delightfully shocking enough to excite you even more than you could’ve ever expected. He gives another long lick and your hips buck in time without any input from your conscious mind, and you cover your mouth to stifle a moan. Is it just because I was already close, or is Beetlejuice’s tongue actually just the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life?

You don’t get much time to consider this, however, as Beetlejuice notices your full-body reaction, chuckles darkly, and quickly dives back in for more. This time, he’s in it to prove himself, pushing more of his long tongue out to efficiently swirl all around your pussy, going at a speed that would be impossible for a normal human with a normal-length tongue. It’s practically chaotic, but it feels so all-consumingly good that you throw your head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. You reach to grab at his hair, which only seems to spurn him on to move faster, his tongue practically spasming as it writhes against you. It brushes over your inner thighs, your entrance, your clit, practically all of the above at once because of its length, and it’s starting to bring you back to your precipice at an alarming rate.

“F-fuck, Beej…don’t stop, whatever you do, please...” You pull at his hair with more force, putting some power behind your command and drawing a needy whine from the demon. To his credit, he doesn’t stop, and seems to be doing his best to speed up his already-fast work.

If his expression is anything to go by, Beetlejuice seems to take a deep pride in how greatly he’s affecting you in such little time, and he whimpers out little words in between his ministrations. “You-“ He laps at your clit with his pointed tip. “Taste-“ He teases your entrance with the broad side of his tongue. “Delicious…” He draws most of his tongue back into his mouth, only to learn forward to suck on your clit with his whole mouth, his beard tickling your inner thighs as he does.

You’re beyond the point of words, but your thighs tighten around his head to wordlessly show him how close you are. You close your eyes to find a moment’s reprieve from the overstimulation, but when you reopen them, you inadvertently lock eyes with Beetlejuice as he continues to suckle at your clit. You’re blown away by the intense way he looks up at you; his eyelashes are obscuring his eyes in a way that makes him look absolutely beautiful, and weirdly enough, almost sweet and innocent at this angle. This is the moment when you distantly realize you’ve fully lost your mind, but you don’t have long to come to terms with your newfound insanity as your orgasm builds at an exponential rate. Suppressing a lewd sound, you grab fistfuls of his hair, grappling for any sort of leverage as your hips begin to buck against his face and your orgasm is suddenly crashing down on you with the force of a tidal wave. You lean down and wrap your arms around him for fear that you may topple over, still keeping the same tight grip on his hair, which causes his head to pull back forcefully and his face to turn upwards. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out the pleasure, eventually releasing his hair when you collapse against his form, your arms draping over his back and chest pressed to his head, feeling boneless and overwhelmingly good. You lean against him for a good few moments, trying to catch your breath and sit back up at the same time.

Beetlejuice stirs slightly beneath you. “No need to rush. I’m doing great right where I am right now. Really, take your time.” You raise an eyebrow, only to quickly realize that your chest is, in fact, pressed directly up against his face. You snort, but remain still for the moment. The only movements in your body are the intense thumps of your heart and the gentle stroking of your hands in Beetlejuice’s hair. After what feels like minutes, you finally pull away from him and prop yourself upright to survey the situation. Specifically, you take in eyefuls of the demon trembling below you, who is looking up at you with a hazy Cheshire grin, licking his lips and very obviously straining against his pants.

You grin salaciously down at where Beetlejuice kneels, reveling in how much you’ve already affected him. “Aw, I bet you’ve been so horny this whole time and still ate me out first without a word. What a good boy.”

His eyes widen. “Fuck, babes…” Beetlejuice openly palms at his clothed dick, making you start to feel warmth between your legs yet again. “S-say that again.”

“That’s not how you ask for something.”

His eyes dart downward as he lets out a shaky sound beneath you, then slowly tilts his head up to meet your gaze. “Please.” The way he whines out the plea is enough to get you a little bit drunk on power. Jesus Christ, this man is gonna be the death of me.

“That’s my good boy.” You hold back a shiver at his immediate and audible reaction. “You really must have wanted this for awhile, the way you’re doing everything I tell you to do so well.”

Beetlejuice moans softly, making no effort to stifle it. “W-well, you did summon me, doll. It’s my job now to make sure you’re totally happy with my work. So, whaddaya say…satisfied with my professional work ethic yet?” He sticks the tip of his tongue out teasingly, eyes lidded.

You giggle at his antics, just as present during sex as they are always. If anything, you’re impressed with his restraint since, so far, he hasn’t pulled any wild reality-bending nonsense to fuck with you while he’s…well, fucking you. “Oh, absolutely. I’d give you a five star review on LinkedIn, no doubt about it.”

He snickers, smiling so wide that his fangs are easily visible. “Hell yeah.”

Looking at him fondly, you move your right hand to untangle itself from his hair and move to scratch at his beard, which Beetlejuice leans into appreciatively. “But y’know, I’m not selfish. You seem a little worked up there, huh? I’d never leave my favorite demon to deal with that all by himself, especially after how good you were to me.” Your hand moves down from his beard, coming to rest on his chest. “How’s about it then, bug boy? You want my hands on your cock?”

Beetlejuice’s big brown eyes are as wide as saucers, and his hair is so vibrantly hot pink that you’re sure it would be blinding in better lighting. “Yes. Please. Oh God, (Y/N), I need you so bad. If you don’t touch me, I’m gonna die and go to whatever’s after the Netherworld, I’m serious.”

“Well, I definitely don’t want that!” You sigh fondly at his dramatics, then pat the space on the bed next to you. “Come on up, I want you right here with me. And lose some of those clothes on the trip up, you’re making me feel underdressed for the occasion.”

“Y-yeah, I can do that.” He wasn’t lying, you really don’t have to ask him twice. He immediately begins shrugging off his iconic striped jacket and slips his suspenders from his shoulders, leaving only his partially-unbuttoned undershirt and tie on below it. He crawls up onto the bed and sits back next to you, mirroring your posture with an air that’s much more shy. Once he’s up, he unbuttons his striped pants and pulls them down enough for his growing erection to be free of their confines, though still trapped in his underwear (also striped, points for staying true to theme). You’d have expected Beetlejuice to be overly confident and full of himself in a situation like this, but now that you’re both in it, this reality-bending, all-powerful demon looks…small. Nervous. Averting your gaze. You feel a need to reassure him overtake you.

“Hey, Beetlejuice? You alright? I know I talk big, but…we don’t have to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.” You rest a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Beetlejuice snaps his head up towards you with a wary expression. “No, it’s not that I…I mean, it’s just that…even though I say it, I’ve never…really…” He pauses his jumbled words to collect his thoughts. “It’s different…to have attention on yourself…I guess.” He sighs in frustration and looks away. “Ugh, this is ridiculous. I do want this, I swear I do. I’m just being…stupid.”

“Hey, this isn’t stupid. I’m serious, don’t say that.” You never would’ve expected this level of self-doubt and anxiety from the demon that literally held everybody else in this house captive during a temper tantrum once, but it just goes to show you can’t judge a book by its war crimes. “What can I do to make it better?”

Beetlejuice looks back to you with a vulnerable expression that you wouldn’t have thought him capable of. “Just…keep doing what you normally do, I guess. Like I said, the problem here is me.” He’s quiet for a contemplative moment. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud, so if you ever tell anybody, I’ll feed you alive to a sandworm. For real.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You cross your heart for good measure, making his eyes soften their wary gaze.

“Ok, the thing is, most people have never really…liked me. I know, I couldn’t believe it either, heh. But it’s true, everyone that’s ever summoned me has just used me up for my power and hated me the whole time while doing it. Even if I tried to roll over and do whatever it took to appeal to them, it never worked, so I figured, might as well just do whatever I want if they’ll hate me either way. So that’s what I’ve done, and it made me kinda…not like me, either. I mean, my own mother thought I was a disappointment, so that’s pretty pathetic, right? The closest I got to a friendship was when Lydia summoned me, but I went and messed that up, too. But…” He pushes his forehead against your shoulder so he won’t have to look you in the eye, purple quickly overtaking his hair. “You seemed to like being around me, right? At least a little bit? And I guess I just didn’t want you to see all of me and decide you…didn’t like it, like everyone else. It’s one thing if I do something for you, but I guess it’s…weirdly scarier to let you do things for me. If you do, it’s like I’m not being…useful, or something. See, you can see how ridiculous this sounds, so that’s why it’s just a me being dumb problem.”

You stay quiet for a moment, taking in Beetlejuice’s first words from vulnerable standpoint with you. You don’t want to say the wrong thing and make him regret ever opening up, so you ponder all of the occasions that you’ve spent time with him and bring your hands up to pet his head reassuringly. He can get on my nerves, but for all of his button pushing, I always look forward to his company. He’s silly, and fun, and even unexpectedly sweet at times. “Well…I can agree that it’s a you being wrong problem, at least. Because I do love being around you, Beetlejuice. And I’m sorry that people have made you feel less-than in the past, but I think they’re idiots for missing out on the fun of getting to know you. You don’t need to be “useful” to keep me from leaving, I want to do nice things for you too, no conditions attached. I like you. I want you. You’re perfect as you are.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead.

If Beetlejuice disagrees, he doesn’t say. Instead, he pushes his face into the crook of your neck, trembling enough that you can feel it against your body. “I love you.”

You try to hide how taken aback you are by his words, electing to wrap your arms around him to conceal it. “I love you too.” And the two of you stay just like that for an impossible to determine amount of time, just holding each other gently. You feel wetness against your neck but say nothing and silently hope that you’re doing this right. He loves me. He really said it himself.

After some time, Beetlejuice pulls back and you can finally look at that cute face you’re so fond of again. His expression is sheepish and his hair painted in a gradient of light pink to magenta, tinges of purple confined to the tips of his hair at this point. “Sorry, I ruined the mood there. Not a lotta guys can have a breakdown with their pants down, but as you can see, I am a man of many talents.” His voice is soft, but sounding steadier and more comfortable than it did a few moments before.

You chuckle softly. “Hey, you didn’t ruin anything. I still had no plans of using you for myself only to leave you high and dry.”

“Heh, you mean it?”

“Of course, I mean, as long as you’re up for it.”

“Oh hell yeah, I can bare my soul and still be horny. I can multitask.” A familiar grin lights up his face at the sound of your laughter, his usual personality returning to him bit by bit.

“Good, I still had a lot of things I wanted to do with you. But seriously, if you change your mind at any point, please just tell me. I want you to be comfortable and enjoy yourself, so if you’re not ready, that’s ok.” Part of you realizes that he’s an all-powerful demon who could easily put a stop to anything at a moment’s notice if he felt like it, but another part told you to be extra kind and considerate with him. You want him to know that although he could forcibly end anything he disliked with his powers, he didn’t have to feel the need to use force. You would always respect the power of his words just as much.

He raises his eyebrows. “Heh, look at you, caring about me ‘n’ shit. That works for me, but what, are you plannin’ on tying me up and blindfolding me? Some real kinky shibari shit?”

You pretend to think about it, tapping your chin. “Hm, maybe not this time.” You begin kissing along Beetlejuice’s jawline, stubble scratching at your face as you do. You take the moment to scooch the two of you away from the edge and closer to the center of the bed, with him sitting up against your pillows. Once he’s comfortable, you crawl over to straddle his lap, causing him to groan out a beautiful sound below you. You finally remove your top, ridding yourself of your last piece of clothing before getting to work on him.

“Nice,” Beetlejuice half-whispers, having been watching you slowly peel your shirt off as though he were studying for a test.

“Hey, sounds like I might’ve secured myself that five star review too.”

“Oh fuck yeah, by tits alone. Don’t get me started on everything else, they haven’t even invented a grading scale that goes that high yet.”

You giggle, leaning down to softly kiss his lips and scratch at his beard. Beetlejuice immediately melts to your touch and tilts his head up, giving you easy access to begin trailing downward slowly with your kisses. You move to place kisses along his neck, drinking in the soft sounds that are forming in his throat and causing your lips to vibrate ever so slightly from the rumbles beneath them. Taking your sweet time, you kiss down to just above his collarbone and begin loosening his tie to get at him better. Once it’s wide enough, you slip it overtop his head and let it fall onto the sheets, then you unbutton the last few buttons of his undershirt so that that can slide off of his shoulders as well. Mimicking him from earlier, you chuck the shirt away haphazardly with a satisfied grin.

“Hey, watch the suit, doll,” he quips, with absolutely no bite behind the words. If anything, he just seems a bit breathless. I didn’t think he needed to breathe. Is he just doing that to egg me on?

“I’d rather watch what’s under it, thanks.” You scrunch up your nose playfully and return to your barrage of kisses, happy to now have his bare torso to work with.

“Wow. I’d normally roll my eyes at that, but I’m actually kinda flattered that you’re using lines that are so dumb, they sound like they came from me.”

“Yeah, your Beetlejuice-isms are contagious.” Without his suit, you can better admire that his stomach and arms are a good mix of soft and round and chubby but also pretty strong, giving him a really cute body that you’re getting a bit sick of not having your hands on. Immediately moving to rectify the situation, you pepper kisses and lightly suckle along Beetlejuice’s collarbone. You relish in the heavy rise and fall of his chest under you before moving downward to flick your tongue across his nipple. You’re immediately rewarded with a high-pitched gasp as he arches his back slightly, sending you the cutest pleading look right after. You’re unsure if he’s aware of how strong that kind of positive reinforcement is, but he’ll probably figure it out quickly since you’re already dragging your tongue across his nipple again, bringing one hand up to brace yourself against his bicep and trailing the other down his stomach with one slow, featherlight touch.

Beetlejuice snorts out a giggle between his more lewd sounds and covers his stomach protectively. “H-hey, careful now, I’m ticklish…and add that to the list of things you are not allowed to share with anyone, ever, under any circumstances.”

You chuckle. “I promise.” He looks utterly unconvinced but just pouts his lip wordlessly in embarrassment. I’m really not sure if he knows how cute he is and uses it to his advantage or if this just comes naturally to him. Either option is pretty scary. You move your hand back farther down still to finally graze the top of his clothed dick, fingertips dancing lightly against his strained underwear as you move to fully suck on his other nipple.

“Ughh, you’re such a tease,” he chokes out, moving to cover his face with one hand.

You frown. “Hey, don’t hide from me. It’s not fair if you get to look me in the eye while eating my pussy if I can’t do the same for you when I’m being a cocktease.” Begrudgingly, he grumbles something unintelligible and moves his arm out of his face, looking down at you with faux irritation, causing your smile to only widen. “Wow, your face is almost brighter than your hair right now. Wonder what made that happen.” As you speak, you drag your fingers down his shaft with even more pressure, causing him to make a choked sound. Your hips move to grind down on the thigh that you’re currently sitting astride before you can even think twice about it, the quick friction making you bite your lip to hold in a gasp.

“B-babes, I’m begging ya.” Beetlejuice looks unspeakably horny below you, but you can’t quite resist the thrill of making him work for it.

“Huh, that’s weird, cuz I didn’t hear actually any begging at all, Beetlejuice. But that is a good idea, maybe you should try it.”

“Ohhh, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

You bark out a laugh at his immediate and visibly desperate response. If he had any pride before, it seems it had vanished the moment that you first touched him. Taking pity, you finally remove his bottoms completely, feeling quiet satisfaction when his cock is freed and you get to see just how hard he really is. It stands fully erect and leaking precum, matching the color of his flushed face perfectly.

“Y’know, when you actually put in the effort, you’re pretty good at playing nice,” you coo, dragging a single finger up his length from bottom to top.

Beetlejuice represses a shiver and instead lets out a low growl. “Careful, I can still flip you over and rail you into the bed ‘til you can’t speak if I feel like it.”

“Not that a little power struggle with you doesn’t sound awesome, but I have a feeling you won’t do that tonight. Like you said, you want me to be mean to you.” You punctuate your sentence by grabbing his twitching dick and lightly squeezing, enough to make him squirm. “You want to see what I’ll do to you if I have control.” As if challenging him to say otherwise, you begin slowly pumping his cock, looking him directly in the eye as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

Beetlejuice breaks eye contact first, unable to hold your intense gaze as he’s slowly pleasured. “M-maybe, but I still have a good memory. Next time I’m in a more dominating kind of mood, you’ll b-be sorry y-mmph!” Whatever he was about to say is quickly silenced by you running your thumb over the slit of his cock and then immediately picking up the pace of your strokes, causing Beetlejuice to descend into a cacophony of moans that he isn’t even attempting to keep at a reasonable volume level.

You pause your ministrations. “Shh, Beej, other people live here! You want Charles to know you’re getting your shit rocked all the way from his home office? Or the Maitlands in the attic?”

He tilts his head to lean further back into your soft pillows, looking as though he’s truly considering his position on the idea. “Mm, well, my brain is telling me you want to hear a no, but my humiliation kink is just giving me a resounding yes.” This little shit.

You sigh and shake your head, only to catch something you’d forgotten on the bed not long ago out of the corner of your eye. Immediately, you’re struck with a wondrous idea. You grab Beetlejuice’s black tie from where it had been strewn across the bed and ball it up in your hand. Beetlejuice watches you carefully with a confused expression, tilting his head at your handiwork. Once finished, your eyes glisten with a mischief usually more common to his face.

“Open.” With a single word, you cause Beetlejuice’s entire expression to shift into one of shock, but certainly not in a bad way. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say a word, only shoots you what you can only describe as a proud, horny grin and opens his mouth wide, saliva practically dripping from his lips and fangs. This turns you on way more than expected, and you find yourself mentally debating with yourself on whether it’s sexy in a gross way or gross in a sexy way, before ultimately coming back to your senses and stuffing the tie into his mouth as a gag before you could think on this any further.

Beetlejuice adjusts the tie with his tongue to properly fit. He tries to speak, but the only thing that ends up coming out is something like, “Mm fhh dmmm.”

You giggle at his attempt. “Well, if you need to tell me anything important, I think you’ll need to take that out first.” He narrows his eyes in a look that very clearly communicates yeah, no shit. But he doesn’t make any attempt to remove it, so it must not have been very important. Satisfied with your new setup, you return your hand to his cock, pumping as slowly as you had been in the beginning to get him started.

Beetlejuice, however, is not having it. He nearly knocks you off of where you’re straddling him by violently bucking his hips up into your hand. You carefully reposition your naked body as he finds a way to smirk at you through his gag, because of course he can do that. If he can’t make noise, he can easily find another way to make his impatience crystal clear to you.

“I’m sure you think you’re funny, but the more time you spend playing bull-rider, the less likely I am to let you cum anytime soon.” Your words immediately cause his hips to twitch upwards, but he seems to keep himself under better control this time. Of course, knowing Beetlejuice, he’ll probably do it again within the minute if he thinks it’ll push your buttons and/or result in you possibly edging him. You decide to cut him off at the pass by grabbing his dick and vigorously jacking him off without any warning. His eyes practically bug out of his head in surprise before high-pitched moans and squeals start to pour out of him, significantly quieted by the gag in his mouth but still plenty audible enough for you to enjoy. And enjoy you do, keeping up your brutal pace as he squirms deliciously under your touch. Not content to be the only one taken by surprise, he grabs at your chest and begins squeezing with reckless abandon, rolling your nipples under his clawed fingers as he lets out a stifled cry. Between focusing on giving the handjob of your life, drinking in Beej’s reactions, and having your nipples roughly played with, you don’t even realize that you’re rocking your naked pussy against his thigh until you can feel your own arousal rising again.

Though you’re certain you could reach another orgasm if you just keep at it, you decide to slow down so your brain doesn’t fizzle out and forget to focus on making your demon happy. Instead, you lift your body up to bring your face right up to his, slowing your hand motions. Before anything else can happen, you spare yourself a moment to really look at Beetlejuice’s face from slightly below, and what you see in his eyes makes you almost cum untouched. He’s desperately close, almost lost in the sensations you’ve wrapped him in, but still anchored tight to you by gaze alone. If he wasn’t gagged, he would almost certainly be begging again, if he could get any coherent words in between his moans. As it stands, he looks like he’d give you anything in the world right now as long as you keep looking at him and keep touching him. And you’re happy to oblige.

“Gonna cum, Beej? You look preeeetty close.”

He cries out a muffled sound at your words, his hips practically shaking as he wordlessly begs for more, his pleading eyes inches away from your own, scanning your expression for any sign of acquiescence. Fun as it may be to play with him, I shouldn’t toy with him too much for right now. Wouldn’t really be fair after how well he’s treated me.

“Alright.” With a single word, you cease the cruel slow strokes that you’d been teasing him with and swiftly return to the frenzied, messy pumping of his cock that made him arch his back and practically scream beneath his gag. You’re relentless this time, keeping up the sloppy pace while you bring your free hand up to cup his cheek. You would’ve tilted his head to make him look at you, but he’s already been locked onto you since the beginning and you don’t think you’d be able to make him look away now if you tried. You feel dizzy and it’s intoxicating. “Cum for me, Beetlejuice.”

With a moan that almost renders his gag useless and the distant unexplained sound of fabric ripping, Beetlejuice cums hard, coating your hand and belly as you’re leaned over him in a fluid that resembles human semen way more than you actually expected. After fully finishing, he collapses back for a moment, removing the gag from his mouth himself and catching his metaphorical breath. You allow your own worked-up body to lay more comfortably against his chest while he comes down from everything.

“Ok, don’t be mad, I think I may have ripped up your mattress a little bit.” He opens one eye to peek out at you, as though actually expecting you to be angry with him. Sure enough, you look at where his hands were gripping the sheets on either side of him and see distinct, deep claw marks raking down the surface of the bed.

You hum noncommittally to yourself. “Well, I can’t really be mad about something that boosts my ego like that.” Instead you look down at the mess that’s been made of you and consider what to do about it.

Beetlejuice’s eyes follow yours down. “It does glow in the dark, if you were wondering.” His lips twitch upwards, looking quite proud of his fun fact.

“No fuckin’ way.”

“Oh?” Beetlejuice offers a smug smile, then dims the dull lights of your room with his powers until they’ve fully shut off. Sure enough, your entire stomach, hand, and part of your bed is glowing a fluorescent green, his signature shade. He flashes a proud smile at the sight of it. “Told ya so!”

“Ok, color me impressed.” You swipe some of the liquid from your stomach with a finger, studying it inquisitively. “Hey BJ, are you radioactive? If I taste this, will I die?”

Beetlejuice’s face flushes so badly, you can even make it out in this poor lighting. “Uh, no, but I might…”

“Oh, awesome.” You stick the finger of glowing cum in your mouth, relishing the taste of your favorite demon. It’s not too different from a human’s, but it does have a faint taste of sweetness, almost like green apple candy or something. It was certainly fitting for him. “Hey, bring those lights back up, I’m dying to see your mood ring hair unlock new shrimp colors when you see me licking up your cum.”

Wordlessly, Beetlejuice brings back enough light to see each other well in. You’re a bit disappointed to not see any new colors yet undiscovered by man in his hair, but in reality, you may have maxed out the hot pink’s vibrancy today. What you are surprised to see, however, is Beetlejuice’s dick already hardening again as you take another lick of his cum from your palm.

You blink in surprise. “Woah, how are you already getting horny again that fast? Do you have some kind of penis-based superpower that you’ve somehow never mentioned despite you being yourself?”

Beetlejuice lowly chuckles to himself, making shivers run down your back at the tone. “Eh, sort of? See, demons aren’t like humans in that we can all go multiple rounds, regardless of equipment, no problemo. We very often have enormously high libidos that a delicate little breather like you could never hope to keep up with, but hey, you’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.” He raises and lowers his eyebrows like a suggestive idiot.

You absentmindedly play with the tufts of hair behind his ears. “Well, you got me there. I’m down for another round if you are. I’ve wanted to ride you for months now, so the spirit is certainly willing.”

“Fuck yeah I am! I’m beyond willing! As long you know that I’ve got the stamina of a cheetah and can totally outlast you on this.”

“I’m pretty sure cheetahs are known for their great speed but awful stamina.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t give a shit.”

You give an involuntary snort-laugh at his quick retort, causing the demon to beam at you with unmistakable adoration, gently pushing some loose hair out of your face. It’s almost off-putting to see such an unashamedly wholesome expression plastered across the face of a supernatural being that has spent his existence being feared by so many, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t also bring you joy unlike any other to be lucky enough to see him like this. So many people didn’t deserve to, and you aren’t exactly sure what you did to become worthy of the privilege, but you won’t question it.

“Here, allow me to level the playing field,” Beetlejuice says, snapping his fingers. You whip your head around the room, but nothing appears to have changed.

“Uh, what exactly did you do?”

“Oh, nothing. I just soundproofed the room for a little bit. I wanna hear you scream, babes.” His eyes narrow at you as his arms engulf you in a light embrace, pulling you closer. His claws come up to rest on your shoulders, the pinpricks pressing against your skin and threatening to break it.

You raise a teasing eyebrow. “You…couldn’t have done that from the beginning?”

“I like the thrill of possibly getting caught, sue me! But hey, if this is what it takes to get you loud, well, I’ll make the sacrifices that I gotta.”

“You really wanna hear me that bad, huh?” Beetlejuice shakes his head so hard it looks as though it should be making a cartoonish sound effect. “Well, I’d honestly love to hear you without that gag too, so I guess we’re in the same boat.” You lift yourself back up to better straddle his naked body again, hovering just above his erect cock and flashing him a sly smile. “Now fuck me, demon boy.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes widen. “Oho, with pleasure.” More than happy to comply, he grabs onto your hips with his clawed hands and gently but firmly maneuvers you down to line up with the head of his dick.

Slowly, you sink down onto him, causing the demon to whine softly below you. After a moment, you’ve fully lowered yourself down and sheathed him inside of you, a full but not at all uncomfortable fit. You give it a moment of stillness to adjust before rocking your hips a bit, feeling his dick twitch inside of your cunt as you do. He immediately reacts by moaning loudly and snapping his hips up against you like a man possessed.

“Fuck, Beej…” You groan at almost a growl pitch, the feeling of him moving inside you almost too much at once.

“Mm…could do better…that sound was only maybe a three outta ten. I’ll have to-mmph-up my game.” God, it is just like this guy to make pleasuring me into a game. I guess I’m not complaining, though. As if on cue with your thoughts, Beetlejuice grabs your back just below the shoulder blades to quickly pull you in close to his chest, his claws applying enough force to definitely leave some red marks in their wake but not enough to hurt badly. The sudden dig of his claws only causes you to start rocking your hips at a faster pace, making it plainly obvious how much you enjoy him handling you so roughly.

“Y-you can try, but I doubt you’ll be able to hear me over yourself soon.”

Beetlejuice responds with silence, which you’ve learned usually means he’s planning to do something that he doesn’t want you to know about. From where you’re pressed against his upper chest, you can’t quite see his face either unless you craned your neck to look up towards him. You don’t slow down your speed, but do feel a sense of horny dread wash over you at his continued silence. Suddenly and without warning, you feel sharp fangs sink into the vulnerable back of your neck where your shoulder connects. It’s so unexpected and hurts so good that you erupt into a chorus of shuddering gasps, unable to even form sentences as Beetlejuice keeps biting and sucking at your neck. His claws keep your squirming body in place as he continues his barrage, and you feel him smiling wider and wider into your skin the more noisy that you get. It’s so good, so overwhelmingly good, having him inside of you while also using those fangs that you love so much on you at the same time. You’re struck with the realization that you can’t let him play you like a fiddle so well without fighting back. Before you can think twice, you turn your face into the crook of his neck right above his collarbone and bite down on the skin even harder than he’s biting at you. You may not have fangs, but you are determined nonetheless.

“Jesus FUCK, (Y/N)!” Beetlejuice is forced to pause his bites to yelp a few similar exclamations. “Ohoho, you’re lucky I’m a demon freak who doesn’t mind being ripped a new collarbone, cuz wow.”

An apology half-forms in your mouth before you realize that that was probably his weird way of complimenting you rather than sarcasm. “Well, m-maybe now, after this, you’ll get to go through what I went through every time you flashed your stupid teeth in public.”

Beetlejuice pulls his head back so his face is in your view again, and you slow your rocking against him just a bit out of curiosity. He’s sporting a growing smile that looks practically delighted.

“Hold up, were you really that into my fangs from all the way back when? You had it that bad?”

You flush at his wording of a situation that you, personally, do not find as humorous as he seems to. “Hey, it’s not like it was just that. It was…all of you, I guess. Every little thing you did turned me on basically all the time, and, as you can imagine, it was a living nightmare.” You realize that that doesn’t exactly make you sound less like a pervert, but it also doesn’t help that his cock is still twitching inside of you and you can’t exactly think straight at the moment.

“Wow, so every time I was around you, you were just being a grade A horndog!” Beetlejuice cackles at his own joke. He is the only one laughing. “Aww, looks like we’re more alike than we thought! Cuz, I mean, you were doing the exact same thing to me all the time, so. Fair’s fair.”

You groan. “Oh my God, you were literally going through the exact same thing? We could’ve fucked ages ago and put ourselves out of that misery!”

He snorts. “Hey, it’s fine. Y’know what? I’m glad it turned out just how it did. Honest.” Your starry-eyed demon lifts a claw to gently cup your jawline.

You put your own hand on top of his. “Yeah, same here.”

Beetlejuice grins, then his face immediately shifts. “All right, I’ve done a lot of talking and now I’m gonna make you cum so hard that you have visions of the Netherworld. Boobs in my mouth, please.”

“HA!” You practically double over at his sudden mood shift, wiping a tear from your eye. “I’ll hold you to that, big guy.”

Before you can even start rocking, Beetlejuice takes things into his own hands and starts thrusting up into you at a fairly speedy pace. He’s holding your hips to keep you balanced, as well as maneuvering them to drive himself into you better. The angle that he’s hitting you at is already starting to make you see stars, and you roll your hips to meet him in time. Apparently, he was not kidding about the boobs in his mouth request, as he leans his head forward to latch onto your left nipple, sucking and ever-so-slightly grazing it with his sharp teeth. To make matters worse, he grabs the other with his claw and begins rolling his thumb over it, all while keeping his eyes locked onto yours, just as he did the last time his mouth was on you. It’s all so good, you can already feel your orgasm building again.

“Oh, don’t stop, Beej, that’s so good…” You’re nearly at the precipice again, focusing your energy on getting up and over. The image in front of you is certainly helping get you there, as Beetlejuice is truly giving it all he has at the moment. His expression shows that he’s right on the edge as well, as you focus on his beautiful brown eyes looking up at you with unmistakable love and lust. “Mm, Beetlejuice…” His long tongue wrapping itself around your nipple… “Beetlejuice…” His cock hitting that perfect spot inside of you... “B-!”

Suddenly, you find two hands clamped over your mouth with surprising force. “Don’t.” The word comes out as a snarl next to your ear, taking you by surprise and sending a shiver down your whole frame. Before you can recover, an erratic snap of his hips sends you hurtling over the edge, an orgasm so intense that it makes your ears ring and your other senses dull for the duration. You moan loudly against his hand, which hasn’t yet moved and doesn’t do much to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Moments later, Beetlejuice moves to grab onto your hips and presses deep into you, holding you in place above him and filling you up with more of his otherworldly cum, all the while letting out gasping moans of his own like a man drowning. After filling you to his satisfaction, his arms fall limply to his side and you slump against him, both dazed and overstimulated. You catch your breath while Beetlejuice seems to be going through a factory reset, his eyes wide open and blinking harshly.

After gathering himself, he finally speaks. “Babes, I love you, but you really gotta get this name thing down if you don’t want me to suddenly poof away when I’m balls-deep inside of ya.”

You look at him sheepishly. “Heh, yeah, sorry. Good save though!” You finally lift yourself off of his dick, rolling your body haphazardly off of him to lay down at his side more comfortably.

He snorts. “Yeah, I bet you enjoyed me putting a stop to that. I’m thinking next time, I act like that from the start and we’ll see whose better at bossing who around.”

You begin lightly tracing patterns on his chest, resting your head on his bicep. “Oh yeah? And what if I wasn’t finished bossing you around yet?”

“Well, then you can peg me about it the next time!”

You giggle at his response while simultaneously filing it away for another day. Smiling into his bare skin, you feel your heartbeat begin to stabilize after quite a long period of elevation. Beetlejuice is still chilly to the touch, but in a way that unexpectedly comforts you, like a soft pillow after being flipped over in the middle of the night.

“Can we flip?” The demon’s sudden request paired with his big eyes meeting yours takes you out of your musings.

“You want to lay on me? Sure, c’mere.” You move to your back, patting your chest for him to lay on. He doesn’t hesitate, snuggling his head into a cozy position on your chest, his left cheek pressing up against your collarbone and his tussled pastel pink hair barely reaching up to tickle your neck. He’s in the perfect spot for you to drape your arms across his frame protectively, your hands coming up to gently rest on his shoulder and the side of his face. Your hands are tired and still, but even in a passive state, you find them needing to touch Beetlejuice without asking for your input. Even if it’s just the comforting brush of your fingers against his jawline, you can’t resist the ache to be close to him.

Beetlejuice leans into your touch. “Mm…you feel so nice…” He tilts his head so that his ear is pressed against your chest and practically melts against you. “Heh, I’ll never get used to that sound. Never thought I’d get to hear it so close, but it’s even better like this.” Your heartbeat instinctively quickens just a bit at his comment, and you feel Beetlejuice’s lips curl up in a smile. “Cute how I can change the tempo at will like that. Like the best radio in the world, babes.”

You blow air from your nose and kiss his head from above, mostly just getting his hair in the kiss from the angle you’re at. “I like your chilliness, you like my heartbeat…I’m starting to think this may work out for us after all!”

The demon snorts, repositioning his head to your shoulder so he can look you in the eye better. “Y’know, I really thought my awesome cock and subsequent use of it would be the thing that made you think that, but whatever seals the deal for ya, doll!”

“That too.” You sigh and close your eyes. “So, what are we gonna tell the others?”

“Uh, you got so horny after I annoyed you one day that you fucked me about it?”

“Beetlejuice, we are not telling people that.”

“Sorry, that you fucked me and you fucked me good. Better?” Your raised eyebrow is enough of an answer on its own. “Hm, and I thought you were a fan of honesty. Well, suit yourself. We can think of something more PG later, it’s not like we have to tell anyone tonight.”

“Well, I guess you are right on that front. I’ll think of a nice and polite way to bring it up at the family dinner table later.”

“Yeah, plus it’ll be a shitshow either way. They’re all gonna say that you’re too good for me, which yeah, fair.”

You brush some loose hairs out of his face reassuringly. “They can think whatever they wanna think. Doesn’t make ‘em right.” You kiss his lips gently, with the soft whisper of a promise at the edge of your own lips guiding your touch. “I love you, Beetlejuice.”

Beetlejuice looks so utterly overwhelmed by emotion after you speak that he can only think to immediately bury his face against you silently. He’s holding so tight to you, as though you could disappear at any moment if his grip slackens. Like you’re his lifeline. After multiple moments of heavy breathing directly against your skin, he manages to barely choke out a response. “Ditto.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the demon, rubbing circles into his back as a comfort. “Just rest now, baby. You did great.”

Beetlejuice looks up at you in relief. “Oh God, thanks for saying that. I’ve been drowsy since we stopped, I just didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Never would’ve guessed him as the most considerate type, but he sure loves to prove me wrong.

“No worries Beej, I’ll be right here next to you. I’m not going anywhere. You can sleep.”

With those last affirmations, Beetlejuice’s eyes almost immediately droop shut as he begins snoring lightly, asleep at an impressive speed for a demon or human. It’s pretty cute how tired he must’ve been before you told him to rest, you didn’t even know for sure if demons wanted and/or needed sleep til now. Yet here he is, making deep contented rumblings from the back of his throat, his head and torso acting like a soft weighted blanket on top of you. The presence of him sleeping soundly on you is deeply comforting, both physically and emotionally. This demon, who’s lived a million lifetimes and dealt with more shit than I could imagine in both the world of the living and dead, trusts me enough to fall asleep on me. He trusted me enough to talk to me about his feelings during sex. Beetlejuice, of all people. Even if I told someone as understanding as one of the Maitlands about that, I don’t think they’d really believe me. Or even really get it.

You reach one arm down to pull a sheet up over the both of you sloppily, just to have something covering you both. Human instincts for avoiding being preyed on by demons in the night always persist, despite your unique situation. As you adjust you pillow to make yourself comfortable for the night, you run your fingers through Beetlejuice’s hair, which is now settling back into its default green without any more external stimuli. You wonder bemusedly if it ever changes color in his sleep, then feel a peaceful rush of happiness when you realize that you’ll have ample time and opportunity to find out the answer. Overtaken by a quiet joy, you quickly lean your head over to kiss him goodnight on the forehead, trying everything in your power to somehow physically materialize this feeling of affection for Beetlejuice that is so strong and all-consuming, just so you could hold it so close that nothing bad would ever happen to it. In lieu of that impossibility, you hold Beetlejuice tighter in your arms instead, with the same goal in your mind.

Author’s Note: this took me an indefensible amount of time to write and if i look at it for another second i’ll go crazy so please take it and look at it with your own eyeballs so that mine can rest. on the fun side, can you tell that characters who always flirt with others by making bold sexual references but end up actually being really flustered and submissive when the other person finally reciprocates are my favorites? anyways i wanna pick this guy up by the scruff of his neck like a kitten, he is so special to me. originally this fic was supposed to be way less emotional but sometimes you’re writing and a character decides to have a breakdown halfway through a scene and you just gotta deal with that curveball when it’s coming at you. but i’m pretty happy with how it turned out, and i hope you guys enjoyed it too. thanks for reading! edit: hey you, want some more? i finally made a sequel lol (x)

#beetlejuice x reader #musical!beetlejuice x reader #musical beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x you #beetlejuice x gn!reader #beetlejuice musical #alex brightman #beetlejuice #reader insert #smut #hello beetlejuice community #beetlejuice more like. babygirl #fun fact: i literally boarded a plane and flew to nyc for the very final showing of beetlejuice on broadway bc i am a WH*RE #worth every penny man. alex brightman is unbeatable #my fics

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