#beetlejuice sequal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

humanransome-note · 4 years ago

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its sequal time bby

soooooo, this was smth, there’s barely any beetleman here but i worked on it so all of you will have to suffer with it

starts up the night immediately after this one

other oc’s mentioned

Zia- @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice

Ivan- @jeuchrit

Lyra- @memedemonhours

Lorelai- @go-commander-kim

Madame Bouriseau- @hoodoo12

Lamia- @clairjohnson

Beatrix - @pennytrash

Bambi- @neitherworld

Vivian- @lazyfyre

Mal - @beetlebitchywitch

Day 1

Beetlejuice doesn’t come around the next night, it’s not that surprising, or that worrying. He doesn’t come in every night, even if he spends basically his entire paycheck at Dante’s.

Day 2

Still no Beetlejuice.

They take an extra smoke break.

Day 3

Beetlejuice may be unpredictable in the moment, but overall he has penchant for patterns.

Specifically threes.

Niphera is on edge all night, but they don’t see hide nor hair of him.

Maybe they got the count wrong.

Day 4

By the middle of the night they’re shaking. They’ve already taken two breaks where by now they would usually only be getting up for their first.

They drop a glass.

It takes Zia yelling at them for Niphera to get the broom.

Day 5

Some guy try’s to start a fight.

Niphera needs an outlet.

Without giving the fight the usual five second rule to see what happens, they break a beer bottle, hop over the bar top, and turn the guy’s gut into a modern art interpretation of a pin cushion.

Ivan isn’t even 3 steps away from his usual haunt and Lyra is no where in sight.

Niphera doesn’t care.

They push, shove, kick, and eventually have to drag the guy the last few feet out.

The flimsy receipt of $2.53 for the beer is a cherry on top.

Day 6

They bought an entire carton of cigarettes that morning.

They go through almost three packs before Dante’s is even open.

Day 7

It’s been a week.

An entire week and they haven’t seen, heard, or even smelled a hint of Beetlejuice.

Is it possible that he hasn’t been to Dante’s since? Maybe. He’s been known to pull shit. Maybe he got in trouble at work and has been forced to go through non-stop shifts.

It’s stupid, but it’s much easier to handle than the alternative.

-maybe he’s avoiding you-

Day 8

They’re jittery. Restless.

It’s not even midnight and they’ve left the bar three times.

It’s when they start getting up for a forth time and see Lorelai heading their way, they know they’ve at least started to push their luck.

They stand at the edge of the bar and wait.

Once she’s within earshot they say.

“Slap me.”

Her eyes widen in confusion and her wings puff up in surprise.

“What?”

Niphera keeps talking, “Just right across the face, really put your back into it.”

They widen their stance so they don’t fall over.

“No!” Lorelai’s wings are puffed up and twitching.

“Obviously the smoke breaks aren’t helping, maybe I just need a good shock to my system to get me back on track.”

It’s a flimsy explanation for a frankly stupid idea. But at least they’re asking for help right?

“Niphera...” Lorelai brings her hand up, but it doesn’t seem to be in preparation for solid smack.

“C’mon. I’m asking as a friend,” Niphera starts going for their wallet, “and if that doesn’t work I can ask you as a customer.”

“No, no.” Larelai waves her hands.

“Just,” she takes in a breath, “just give me a second.”

Niphera nods, tensing everything from the neck up.

“Okay, alright,” Lorelai shakes out her hand and cracks her knuckles.

“You ready?” As she asks, she looks like she reconsidering this.

“Just hit me!”

The crack of skin against skin is intense, they swear they feel something pop in their neck and something else loosen near their jaw.

It takes a couple seconds to reorient themself, but it got the job done.

They roughly blink and open and close their mouth as they turn back towards Lorelai.

She looks worried.

All Niphera says is, “Thank you.”

They turn around and get back to work.

Day 9

They don’t do anything drastically different tonight. But they did cut it back to three breaks the whole night as opposed to the six they were nearing before.

But when last call came around, they were still restless. They needed to move.

So with very little convincing, they got Ivan, Lyra, and Zia to leave without too many questions.

They’re mopping the floor when they realize they weren’t as in the clear as they thought they were.

“Niphera.”

Last call was almost two hours ago.

They don’t want to stop, but Madame takes precedent over their shit mood.

“Yes Ma’m?” They stand up straight but don’t look her in the eye.

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes Ma’m.” Their grip on the mop tightens, there’s a creak. Niphera can’t tell if it’s the mop handle or their hand.

Niphera feels her eyes on them, she doesn’t say anything.

After what feels like an eternity, they crack.

“Was there something you wanted to talk to me about Madame?” They try to keep their voice even. Their stomach is in knots and it would be hell if they threw up on the floor they just cleaned. But if they did, they won’t have to go to their room. They won’t have to sit in their bed, staring at the little silver box Beetlejuice left behind.

“Yes, actually.”

Their stomach clenches.

“A few of the others came to me earlier tonight.” She begins stepping closer.

“They said that you’ve been acting different as of late, more smoke breaks than usual, dropping glasses, picking fights” she stops about a foot away from them.

God, they want to curl up and cry.

“Yeah,” their voice cracks, “I know.”

The best lies are the ones where you don’t lie at all.

“I’ve, uhh, been on,” They swallow and lick their lips, “been a bit on edge, lately?” The end rises up like a question.

“Anything you’d like to talk about?”

They can’t help it, they let out a harsh puff of air that quickly cuts off into a wheeze.

“No.” It comes out reedy. They cough and try again.

“No.” Better.

Madame grabs their shoulder. “Are you sure dear?”

-no- “Yes.” In their mind they’re begging for Madame to leave, if she lays the maternal concern on any thicker they’ll crumble.

Madame gives them a final once over and squeezes their shoulder. “Get some sleep, okay?”

They smile. “Will do.”

As Madame turns around they feel their face fall.

They need to get their shit together.

Day 12

Niphera’s out back for a smoke.

Without Beetlejuice they unfortunately have a lot of time to think.

They know their relationship with Beetlejuice isn’t healthy.

Guy probably couldn’t identify a healthy relationship if it sat him down and tried to explain boundaries to him.

But blaming it all on him is hypocritical.

They probably couldn’t identify a healthy relationship either.

They went to therapy when they were alive, while it was mostly for their daddy issues, they still did a lot of introspection.

And the daddy issues led to a whole slew of other things, a propensity for unhealthy attachments, codependency, fear of abandonment, fear of rejection, fear of conflict. They could keep going but Sigmund Freud is a bastard, and while they could loosely be called a 6th generation student of his, he can still choke.

Probably not that, apparently he has a thing for that.

But the point stands.

This whole thing with Beetlejuice has set off nearly every single deep seeded issue they never totally coped with, and now they’re spiraling.

Add a bottle of Budweiser, pony races, and blind hook ups in an empty garage. Boom! They’ve turned into their father.

Niphera shivers at the thought.

They should talk to someone about this, and really talk about it.

Madame, Lamia, and Lorelai are immediately off the table.

Madame because they can already see the pity mixed with disappointment on her face as she says to never mix work and pleasure.

Lamia, because talking to someone who they have mixed up emotions about, about their mixed up emotions just sounds like a nightmare.

And Lorelai has already given her two cents on the issue.

Beatrix? No, she likes the guy. Makes her laugh.

Bambi would just say go get laid. Probably Vivian too.

Zia is freaked out by him, and would probably be confused as all hell as to why Niphera wants to see him on the regular again.

Lyra’s solution to problems with men is violence.

And Ivan. Ivan gives off some of the most emotionally repressed vibes they’ve ever seen, dude could watch paint dry and a puppy cry with the same indifference.

That’s not even getting to the fact Beetlejuice has been hittin’ it for free. It’s not often, maybe once or twice a month~ish. Most of the time they really do just talk shit and smoke.

But still they’ve been doing the work without getting the pay, and again Madame’s disappointment would be worse then being chased out with a riding crop and cattle prod.

So no, they’ll get through this on their own.

They have to.

Day 14

It’s been slow tonight.

“Hey, Velvet?” They’re staring at a the rag they use to wipe down the bar.

“Yeah?” Zia’s pouring out what little gin is left into the Dregs bottle. The cheap stuff.

“Think you can handle the rest of the night on your own? I’m not feeling so hot.” They know there’s a pun there, but honestly they can’t even crack a smile.

“Yeah! Sure! I can handle it.”

If Niphera didn’t know any better they’d think Zia was happy to see them go. Maybe she is, by now everyone’s taken notice of their change in mood.

Niphera sags and lets out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks”

They hang up the rag behind the bar and give a bit of a half hearted wave.

All the anxiety from the past two weeks has finally started to run them ragged.

Hugging the wall they start walking to their room.

Behind the curtain, past the “offices”, up the stairs and I’m crashing

Getting to their room would just be a bonus at this point. The common room couch is the goal, even just the area rug would be a great consolation prize.

They get to the curtain and take a steadying breath.

Even after all this time working at Dante’s, they still sometimes blush like a teenager with their first dirty mag when they’re reminded about the, umm, one-on-one entertainment.

Thank you deep seeded catholic shame.

The rooms aren’t sound proof (most of the time), so as they walk down the hall they can hear moans and the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin.

Maybe they should get all the way to their own room. Getting caught with a hand between their legs in the common room wouldn’t be the worst thing they’ve been caught doing, also wouldn’t be the worst thing the others have walked in on.

It’s been a while since they’ve had a good orgasm.

They try not to think about why that is.

But getting reacquainted with themself in the common space is a dick thing to do as a roommate.

Niphera shakes their head, they’re thinking way to hard about this, they’ll just figure it out once they’re on the landing.

They’re almost to the stairs. The softness of cloth upholstery is calling their name.

A grunt catches their attention.

It’s rough, and guttural, and most of all, familiar.

They stop in their tracks.

Don’t look! don’t think about it! You just think it’s him because you -miss him- haven’t seen him lately

Their fingers twitch as they wait.

A groan and some muffled words come from behind the same door.

Niphera screams at themself not to look, not to get closer, getting randomly peeped on isn’t usually part of the deal.

Their body doesn’t listen.

Their head turns and they take in the door.

It’s wooden, with engravings from floor to frame. Overgrown ivy curling around dead branches, with small deceptively welcoming bunches of holly, and two snakes cresting above the overgrown thicket.

At about roughly eye level there is a woman’s face. With softly parted lips, hooded eyes, the sultry promise of more.

Long hair falls past her shoulders, and she has a halo flanked by two crescents, all of this distracts from the small horns on her head, and the pentacle on her chest.

It’s Lamia’s room.

They swallow.

Their thoughts are running a mile a minute as their stomach clenches in arousal.

Never in their life did Niphera consider paying for sex. They knew enough about themself to know it probably would have been a bad idea.

But the first time they saw her perform? They truly understood the appeal.

They have a rainy day fund, in a box under their bed. It’s not for if something goes wrong, so much as it is for when they finally snap. For when the nights alone under their sheets can’t do it anymore. For when the tease of smooth endless legs pushes them over the edge. -For when imagining her in the shadows, watching, as Beetlejuice takes them without mercy in the alley no longer satisfy.-

It’s called “the rainy day fund” for a reason. And if they ever use it they plan to end the night drowning.

Niphera knew the two of them fucked. It’s the whole point of this place. They knew the two of them have done it, and have been doing it, long before Niphera died. Hell, long before they were even alive.

But this is the first time there’s ever been a hint of jealousy to the thought.

Jealousy towards Lamia for having his attention while Niphera has been dropped and avoided for the past two weeks.

Jealousy towards Beetlejuice because he can act like nothing’s wrong, and keep humping his way through everyone at the Inferno. And the fact that he definitely knows what the sweet heat at the apex of Lamia’s thighs is like doesn’t help much either.

They’re going to have to head all the way up to their room tonight.

A creaking breaks them from their thoughts, without another second wasted and with a burst of energy they didn’t have before they sprint up the stairs, taking the last few steps on all fours.

Stumbling over the landing they rush past the kitchen and common area, racing to their room busting the door open and quickly slamming it shut behind them.

With the rushed and sloppy movements of a desperate man they get their pants undone and the wand out of their bedside drawer.

They don’t fall asleep that night so much as pass out.

Day 16

“‘Fearaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!”

Someone’s banging on their door.

“C’mon ‘Feara wake up!”

It’s Bambi.

Niphera grunts and pulls the comforter over their head, hoping she’ll go away.

“Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiipheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-!”

“WHAT!?”

They don’t really want to be snappy, but sleeping has been the only time they don’t feel like shit lately.

“Get up!”

They squirm to the edge of their bed and yank open the bedside drawer. Shoving their hand inside they start grasping for something to tell the time with.

Their hand gets around something small, square, and metal. Because of course it does.

They hold it for just long enough to process what it is before throwing it to opposite end of the drawer like they’ve been burned.

With a few more nonsense grasps and they get their hands around a pocket watch.

(It’s nice to say the least, someone traded it to pay for their tab and Madame let them keep it as a welcome gift)

They pop it open and lift their head just enough so that their good eye can see.

“BAMBI WE DON’T OPEN FOR 5 HOURS, WHAT THE HELL!?”

Really, what the hell? Bambi’s still usually asleep right now.

“No we don’t!”

Oh. That means...

“GHOUL’S NIGHT!!”

As she yells, someone kicks their door in.

They don’t need to see his overbearing frame, or smell the cologne and hint of gun powder to know who it is.

They turn to look him in the eye as he looms over their bed.

“Et tu, Ivan?”

He shrugs.

"Она настойчива.”

It takes a few seconds for their muddled brain to translate.

“She’s loud.” They reply dropping the watch back into the beside table.

Bambi may have brought the big guns, but she did not bring the biggest guns. So while Niphera won’t fight, they won’t necessarily cooperate either.

Ivan seems to realize this, so with no consideration or fanfare he scoops them up, comforter and all, and throws them over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

They don’t struggle, it’ll be pointless, so they stay limp as he meanders out of their room and down the hall.

"Запомните мои слова, это предательство не будет забыто.”

He snorts out a laugh.

“Я с нетерпением жду этого.”

Bambi walks behind, chattering away at what the plans for tonight are. She’s also sans posture collar, so her head hangs to the side at a grotesque and exaggerated angle.

Niphera’s stomach drops, not in fear or disgust, they got over that ages ago, but Bambi without a collar means they’re in for a long night of trash junk food and trashier tv.

And, their stomach turns, gossip.

Their figuring out an escape plan when Ivan finally plops them down on something smooth and solid.

Scratch that, someone smooth and solid.

Niphera is barely out of Ivan’s grasps before they are surrounded by 20+ feet of rattling naga.

“Please stop doing that.”

“I cannot help it,” Mal squeezes with her arms and rattles on. “They’re ssso warm~”

Mal is very pretty, and she could probably force them to impersonate a tube of tooth paste without really trying.

Something Niphera really loves in a woman.

So the fwoomp their hair does, as well as the subsequent laughter are both fully expected.

—————————

Hours of being a sentient heat pack, topped with shit Bachelor ripoffs with the occasional decent show sprinkled in, hasn’t worn Niphera out so much as make them pliant.

For the last 30 minutes or so they’ve been using their arms and Mal’s tail as a makeshift pillow, not really moving or breathing, just hanging at the cusp of sleep.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with them.” It sounds like Zia, and it sounds like she’s trying to stay quiet.

“Well you spend basically the whole night with them-!” Bambi is cut off by a collection of shhhhhs.

The room stays quiet for a minute.

Zia speaks again, “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I know everything about them.”

“Well give it your best guess.” That sounded like Lorelai.

“I don’t know!” Zia sounds a little frantic.

“Maybe ‘Feara just needs to get laid!” Bambi finishes with a humph.

Niphera is awake now, but the others don’t need to know that yet.

Before anyone can say anything Vivian responds, “I second that.”

There’s a clap like a high five and a few giggles that quickly get shut down.

“Guys c’mon this is serious.”

“I know we can’t really get any deader but have you noticed how much they’ve been smoking lately?”

“I swear I saw a carton in the trash one night that they had bought that morning.”

“See, that’s why I think they need to get laid.” Vivian says. “You smoke to relax, you bone to relax. Maybe they just need something with more umph,” the noise comes out like a moan, “to calm down.”

Everyone slowly secedes to her argument, quiet and somewhat hesitant “okay”s come from everyone in the room.

“Now the question is. Who’s gonna do ‘em.”

The room stays quiet.

Wow, okay, that’s a confidence booster.

Lamia breaks the silence.

“Why are you all looking at me?”

Ohh no, nope, nuh-uh, not happening, Niphera has let this go on to long.

They stretch out their arms and yawn. Making sure every joint they can pops, even setting off a few crackles from their hair for good measure.

“Wha’ we talkin’ bout?”

“You nee-!” Bambi gets cut off.

“Sex!” Zia shouts, she looks like she can’t believe what just came out of her mouth, and frankly neither can Niphera.

A few people look at her like she’s lost her mind, but it’s out now, so Zia just shrugs.

“Thought we don’t talk ‘bout work on Ghoul’s Night.” Niphera starts wiggling, trying to get out of Mal’s coils.

Mal tightens her tail in response and Niphera swears they can feel their ribs creak.

Niphera makes grabby hands at the coffee table. “Peanut butter.” Unfortunately Mal doesn’t let go, but Beatrix does get the jar for them, so, consolation prize.

“Yeah...”

“We were talking about what we like, not work stuff.”

Smooth

Bambi bounces up to the edge of her seat, unfortunately her head falls back, so with a bit of a hop she grabs her head and brings it forward.

“Soooo ‘Feara how’d you like it?”

Niphera considers their response, taking their time with a mouth full of peanut butter.

“Well,” they shove the spoon into the jar, and tighten the lid. This is going to get nasty.

“I like being watched,” Bambi and Vivian are giving Niphera their full attention. Zia is pressing herself further into the couch.

“Someone begging to get involved, but forced to stay to the side.” Niphera squirms a bit, making as sure as they possibly can that they’ll land on their feet.

“They need to be in eyeshot, where’s the fun if you can’t see how desperate they are.”

They feel their hair heating up.

“Don’t gag them, I want to see, I also like to listen.” Zia looks ready for the couch to eat her, and it seems a few of the others are catching on as well.

“But I don’t have to get pounded while I listen,” they feel the heat rising, and if the strange airflow, and slight whistling is anything to go by, everyone else is finally picking up on their anger too.

“Only child, big family, learned things,” their sentences are loosing structure.

“Sneaking, spying, eavesdropping“ they glare at everyone in the room.

“My problem,” Mal loosens her grip, “not yours,” their feet hit the carpet.

With a flair up that probably singed Mal, they shout “mind yourselves!”

They turn on their heel and walk out of living room.

No one comes after them.

Day 18

Madame has called them into her office.

This can’t be good.

“I want you off the floor for the foreseeable future.”

Niphera inhales sharply.

Madame keeps talking.

“Your behavior has everyone worried, myself included.”

Niphera can feel the excuses bubbling up their throat, but they keep them to themself.

Madame rounds her desk and steps in front of them.

“Niphera,” she grabs their shoulders “you don’t have to talk to me, you don’t have to talk to anyone here.” She squeezes their shoulders. “But please,” she shakes them, “talk to somebody.”

Madame drags her hands down Niphera’s arms, and clasps their hands in her own.

“Please, I’m not just asking as your boss, I’m asking as someone who cares about you.”

Niphera can’t look her in the eye, they’ll break.

They take their hands from hers and nod.

They don’t say anything, and for the first time they don’t wait to be dismissed.

They turn and walk out the door, closing it gently behind them.

Day 19

They’re bored out of their mind.

They can’t sleep anymore, there’s nothing on tv, and as far as they can tell they’re fresh out of smokes.

Can’t go out, it’s raining like it’s no one’s business and even if they didn’t have a complicated relationship with water, the rain in the Netherworld has a fun habit of being acidic.

So they stare at their ceiling.

Soot marks from night flares have basically turned their ceiling black, there is the occasional spot of blue, and the spot they tried to clean one time before realizing it wasn’t worth it is a soft gray.

It was jarring, the first time they walked in here. A near one to one replica of their bedroom from when they were alive. (They could do without the popcorn ceiling though)

But it seemed whatever magical nonsense that ran Dante’s didn’t agree with them, because no matter how many times they asked, it was always back the next time they looked up.

Something in their bedside drawer buzzes.

They shimmy over and take a look.

They are greeted with what is, frankly, a ludicrous amount of buzzing toys.

They snort out a laugh, “Thanks for the concern but busting a nut won’t make me feel better.”

Talking to the place hadn’t felt as weird as the idea would seem. They used to talk to themselves all the time, now they just have an audience. A pretty passive one, but an audience none the less.

The amount of times they’ve been sprayed in the face while doing dishes, because they got stuck in an self echo loop, is legitimately hilarious, but it’s nice to know there’s something there.

The buzzing ramps up.

“Seriously, cumming won’t solve the problem.” They slam the drawer shut and the buzzing stops.

“Thank you.”

A single powerful whir starts up.

“Okay! Fine I’ll try your way,” the buzzing continues. “I’m not in the mood for a toy.” They look at the drawer until it quiets down.

They sigh, “Thank you.”

They lay back on their bed and stretch, feeling some vertebrae pop as they turn it into a languid roll.

They sigh once more as they lay fully on the bed.

The buzzing starts up again.

“Calm down! If I’m gonna jack it I’ll go at my own pace,” they move their hands under the covers, “you’re like some poor dude who died before he popped his cherry.”

The buzzing ramps up before quickly shutting off, it’s the closest thing to indignity the building can get.

They aren’t really all that horny, but a perfunctory orgasm is still an orgasm.

They stroke their hands down their body as they rub their legs together, trying to think of something to get themself in the mood.

Lamia’s legs are amazing, slender but muscled.

Niphera may not perform, but ghoul’s nights that ended up downstairs on the floor have given them plenty of opportunity to try. The soreness from both overworked muscles and the amount of times they fell flat on their ass just made them respect everyone who worked the pole even more. If they could send one message back to the land of the living it would be demanding pole dancing become an Olympic sport.

Niphera stalls their thoughts, they’re getting off track.

Where were they? Right Lamia, legs.

The soft, steady click of heels has their mind racing.

They’re on their knees with their hands tied behind their back, their tie is loosened and their vest and button up undone.

The clicking comes around the side, and finally the shiny black heels are in view.

Lamia stops right in front of Niphera, and with a bit of shifting, her panties drop around her ankles.

Niphera keens.

With three flawless steps, lamia kicks away the panties and closes the distance between the two of them.

Niphera’s mouth was already watering, but now those endless legs are inches away, as is the heat between them.

“Knew the Ice Queen got cha’ all hot and bothered, but damn babes. You. Are. A. Mess.”

Niphera’s hand and the fantasy stutter to a halt.

Now usually, this wouldn’t be an issue. Beetlejuice showing up mid fantasy and giving commentary. They weren’t lying when they said they liked being watched, and while Beetlejuice wasn’t the simpering, begging, mess they used to fill the background with, he still didn’t join in besides the odd comment or suggestion.

Most of the time.

But right now Niphera wants him as far out of their mind as possible. So with some readjusting, a small breath, and bit of a skip they get back to it.

She sits at the edge of the bed and spreads her legs.

Niphera licks their lips as their stomach clenches.

They shuffle towards the bed. There’s nothing dignified about it, but that’s the point, and frankly, even if it wasn’t they don’t think they’d care.

They get to the bed and while they want to dive in head first, they also want to stretch this out.

They press their mouth to the inside of her knee, and proceed to kiss, nip, and lick their way towards her center.

“You’re never this eager to blow me, doll I’m hurt.”

A sneer comes to their face as once again the fantasy is interrupted.

She’s hot as hell and slick as sin, and Niphera couldn’t be happier that they don’t need to breathe.

Lamia is letting out moans, and they’re getting louder and more frequent.

Her thighs are tightening around Niphera’s head, and her hands are gripping fistfuls of their hair.

God they’re close.

“Close but not quite, huh sugar?”

Niphera’s happy they didn’t grab a toy, because if they did it’d probably be a steaming hunk of plastic and silicone.

They want to scream. But at who? Themselves? They can’t even get off without the bastard popping up, and it’s entirely their own fault.

They give up and let their mind go where it wants.

See doll, now was that so hard?”

Niphera’s face is still buried between Lamia’s thighs, but now Beetlejuice is behind them. Pounding into them without mercy.

Just adding him to the fantasy and they’re ready to bust.

“C’mon sugar, cum for me, milk Daddy’s cock.”

Their tongue is flat against Lamia’s clit, and they can feel it and the rest her pulsate as she comes undone

Their hips rise as they cum, blindly chasing their own hand and simultaneously trying to jerk away from the overstimulation.

Finally they collapse, panting heavily they stare at the ceiling.

They don’t feel better, but they think can fall asleep, so that’s something.

Day 21

It was bound to happen eventually.

Niphera isn’t really paying attention as walk through the back door, too busy doing the Macarena looking for a pack of cigarettes.

After the third pass they give up. As they slump forward they feel a weight in the breast pocket shift.

Well if he’s never coming back for it

They pull out the little silver box. They’ve been carrying it every night they work, just in case. Seems they left in their pocket after Madame benched them.

There’s not much that’s remarkable about it, some engravings, generic scrollwork on the edges and a few scuffs on the blank portions.

They pop it open.

“Got one I can bum offa ya?”

They stiffen up. Niphera doesn’t need to look to know who it is.

Their head turns towards the voice.

Bettlejuice is standing there, arms crossed against his chest, leaning against the wall as if they haven’t not talked to each other for three weeks.

Guess he kept to the pattern

Niphera’s head is as quiet as it is loud. A layer of white noise over the screaming in their head.

How dare he? Not a word, not a whiff, not even an acknowledgement and now he wants to come back like nothing’s happened?

Niphera wants to scream, wants to punch him in his smug face, get that smirk off of there and replace it with a busted lip. Tell him to go fuck himself and throw the cigarette case at his head for good measure.

But they don’t do any of that.

Niphera pulls a cigarette out before snapping the case shut. They look away, light up and take a drag.

“Left this last time.” They extend the hand with the case towards Beetlejuice.

“Aw, you been keeping it safe for me sugar?” He plucks it from Niphera’s hand and takes one for himself.

They don’t say anything.

He puts the case in the pocket of the inner lining of his jacket, and after some time shuffling around seems to give up.

“Ey babe, got a light?”

Of course they do, they are a lighter constantly at a low level level burn though they may be.

Is this an attempt at amends? Or at the very least a want to go back to normal? Maybe. If it is that, this is the closest thing they’ll ever get to an apology. The words “I’m sorry” don’t really exist in the man’s vocabulary.

They raise their hand and snap, a small flame appears at the tip of their thumb.

“Thanks doll face.” He leans in and lights up himself, before pulling back and letting out a plume of smoke.

They take a drag and hold it in.

Giving him a side eye they consider him.

With their own puff of smoke they say.

“No problem BJ.”

so that was a thing, there is no real resolution because a resolution would involve talking about feelings, and i think movie!juice would rather get eaten by another sandworm than talk about his feelings

i was really winging this fic, thats not saying i dont wing all of them, thats basically how i write everything. (outline who?)

but this felt like it turned into more of a character study of Niphera, or at least me figuring out how much of myself i project onto them. (speaking of i am technically in the loosest terms a 6th generation freud student, my sociology teacher [read: religion teacher, but she still wanted to actually try and teach us sociology my highschool loved fluffing up transcripts] was very proud of that.)

ive personally stayed in relationships out of a desperate bid for companionship, nothing romatic or sexual, but looking back nearly every friendship i had before highschool was unhealthy. not saying it stopped in highschool, i just started noticing in highschool

questions? comments? concerns? suggestions? i make no promises but my ask box is open so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#Infernooc #inferno oc #beetlejuice x niphera #oc x oc #beetlejuice #keatlejuice fanfiction #it feels weird tagging that cause hes barely in it #but also he is in it throughout #nicky writes

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