#beetlejuice x reader fanfic

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Blurred Lines

jenna ortega x female reader

summary: You and Jenna, best friends and actresses, are cast as lovers for the first time, tasked with bringing a romantic chemistry to the screen. But as scenes unfold, the lines between acting and reality begin to blur.

word count: 2.1k

a/n: This was actually the first Jenna story I wrote!

————

What are you thinking so hard about? Jenna asks plopping down in the director's chair next to you.

After being best friends for years, you and Jenna have finally gotten the opportunity to work alongside each other on your latest film Lovestruck, a romance film where you two are playing the lead couple.

You. You wanted to say, but you were 8 years too deep in the friendzone to truly say what was on your mind. "Just the next scene," you smile at her tiredly.

Her eyes light up, "I've been looking forward to this scene for so long!  God just look at that view Y/n!  I'm so jealous of Lalya," she sighs, referencing the character she's playing in the film. "Just who wouldn't love to be confessed to here," your co-star finishes looking over at you with sparkles in her eyes.

When your manager gave you the script for this project, you could only laugh at how much the story paralleled your situation with Jenna.  You were playing Quinn, a girl who has been in love with her friend for years, but couldn't do anything about it.  Eventually the mixed signals and watching the one she loves be with others got too much, and Quinn angrily confesses by the lakefront during a sunset; the view Jenna was fawning over just a minute ago.

You could only wish that the aftermath of any potential confession of yours could resemble the one in this film. Layla ends up reciprocating Quinn's feelings and it's a happy ending.

Unfortunately the universe isn't as perfect as an angsty teen romance, and is rather a sick minded individual who gets a kick out of meddling with people's lives. For years you and Jenna have auditioned for the same projects to play friends, enemies, even sister's but why is it that the one project both of you manage to land is this one?

"Y/n/n!"

Startled, you look over at the girl who's been trying to get your attention for all this time while you zoned out. "Y-yeah sorry. You're right. It would be a dream to be confessed to here."

She hums and stands up before placing a hand on your shoulder looking intently into your eyes, "I'll see you on set after the break, hope you bring your A game Y/l/n," she winks with a smile before walking off.

Jenna walks over to Andrew another actor working the film and immediately starts laughing and touching his arm in conversation.  You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but you also couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene that always happened to unfold in front of you.

It hurts you beyond belief watching your best friend interact flirtatiously with other people. Having to hear about rumoured boyfriends and especially having her not deny them. The mixed signals you got from the girl wasn't any help either, like what was that hand on the shoulder just now? The wink?!

You walk away trying your very best to calm yourself down before your big scene. Jenna frowned as she watched you walk away and towards your personal trailer.

————

The director calls everyone to set and has prepared to shoot the big confession scene. The crew helps you and Jenna find your places and fixes up any imperfections in your clothing. As you stand before your co-star you're hit with a strong wave of emotions. The 20 minutes you spent in the trailer wasn't much help, and now as you watch Jenna who is looking at you curiously, you make a realization.

You may never confess to Jenna. How could you? This friendship was the greatest you've ever had and you were aware of the fact that friendships like this one, don't come easy. It would be insanely stupid of you to confess your love and single-handedly lose a gem like Jenna completely. The more you thought about it, the interactions between Andrew, the rumours with Percy, and countless other boys, the more helpless you felt. There was no way she could feel the same.

"You okay?" the gentle voice you've come to love speaks.

You're silent.  She looks at you with her big doe eyes that you've come to love, but at this very moment you hate so much.  The concern in her eyes is pushing you off the edge.  You hated it.  You hated how her caring nature has only gotten you falling tenfolds harder. Why does she have to be good to me, why does she torture me like this you ask yourself.

"Y/n/n."

You look away, refusing to look into her eyes, scared of the emotions you'll find in them, scared of finding out how much more you could fall in love with her in this moment, so you settle on the view of the sunset.

The director begins a 10 second countdown to cue in the start of the scene and you're still looking at the sunset pondering. This may be the only time that you'll ever speak the words of a confession to Jenna. Yes, to her it'll be you performing the script, Quinn speaking these words, but she doesn't have to know that you will mean all the words you speak with every fibre of your being.

A light smile plays on your lips as you think about the performance you're about to give and how it should get you nominated for all the acting awards in existence. The lines of Quinn and Y/n have blurred, and you are playing no character other then yourself.

You won't be acting.

"Action!"

The scene begins and you start marching away from Jenna like the script told you to.

"Wait- Stop!" Jenna says frantically grabbing on to your arm.You roll your eyes, shrugging her off and continue walking.

"Why do you insist on hurting me?" She shouts, following the script.  You stop walking and pause.One beat. Two beat. Just like the script instructed. You turn around, glaring at her with more intensity than the script demands, "Me? Hurt you? That's rich coming from you."

Jenna hesitates, caught off guard by the seriousness in your voice, but quickly recovers, staying in character.

"Yes you asshole! I invite you to the lake house, and all you do is ignore me!"  Groaning into your hands, you speak your next line.  "Layla. You're joking right?"

"No Q, I'm not.  Do you even care about me?  It's my fucking birthday, and you're acting like I'm not even here, sulking in one of your moods and embarrassing me in front of my friends!"

"Then what am I?"

"What?"

You laugh, running your hands through your hair, struggling to keep your emotions in check.

"If those are your little fucking friends, then what am I to you?"

Jenna acted taken aback like she was supposed to, "My friend? My best friend? I don't know that's not the point! Wh-"

You cut her off, "But it is the point!"

You break the script.

You blink hard, letting the tears that were building up before the scene fall down your face.

Jenna had a look in her eyes that you've never seen before it was confusion and something else you couldn't pinpoint. Being the amazing actress that she is, she improvs her next line, so the scene can get back on track.

"Here you go again not wanting to address the real issue," she rolls her eyes.

You decide to stick to the script with tears streaming down your face. "I can't keep doing this anymore Layla," the words carrying the weight of years of hidden feelings. "Watching you with them, pretending I'm fine when I'm not. I can't just be your friend anymore."

Jenna's eyes widen, her character momentarily forgotten as she registers the raw emotion in your voice. "Quinn... what are you saying?"

You take a deep breath, letting it all out, the pain, the frustration, the love. You're about to do it and you hope that just for a second your performance will blur the lines for Jenna. "I'm saying that I'm in love with you, and I have been for a long time. And it kills me every time I see you with someone else, knowing I can't be the one to make you smile like that."

The silence that follows is deafening. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for her response, both in character and out of it. The director's voice seems far away as he doesn't call cut, letting the scene play out naturally. For a moment you start to think that Jenna has forgotten her line, she's supposed to say, "For how long?"

But she goes off script.

She takes a step forward so she's only a foot away from you and takes your trembling hands (that you didn't even realize were shaking) in her own, an attempt to calm you down.

Jenna, as Layla, steps closer, her own tears glistening in the fading light. "Why didn't you tell me sooner, Quinn? Why did you let me go on thinking we were just friends?"

Your voice cracks as you respond, "Because I was scared. Scared of losing you, scared of ruining what we have. But I can't keep pretending anymore."

Jenna reaches up, gently cupping your face with her hands, her touch warm and soft. "You idiot," she whispers, her voice trembling. "How could you not know? How could you think for even a second that I didn't feel the same way?"

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks, and for a moment you forget that you're on set, that this is all supposed to be a performance. It feels too real, too raw.

"T-then what about everything I see? All those guys?" You say staying true to the script, but you couldn't hold your tongue and add, "The rumours? The interactions I always see?"

Jenna clearly seems taken aback by your addition to the script, and opens her mouth and closes it, at a loss for words.

You can't help yourself and continue, "Do you have any idea what it's like to watch you with other guys? To see you flirt with everyone else and feel like I'm just...invisible?"

Jenna's heart races as she realizes the depth of your feelings, the lines between the script and reality blurring completely.

Jenna continues, the rest of the scene now being pure improv. With tears in her eyes, "I wasn't trying to hurt you...Q. I wanted you to notice me. To see me the way I see you.

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest. Jenna's voice is trembling, her gaze locked on yours, and for the first time you realize she's not just playing a role. She's confessing, right here, in front of everyone.

"I've been in love with you for so long," you get out through tears, "But all I've ever seen is you with them... like I don't even exist."

The shorter girl steps closer, dropping the last remnants of her character. Her hands reach up to cup your face, her touch gentle and filled with unspoken emotion.

"I didn't know how to tell you, Quinn. I was scared, so I tried to make you jealous, provoke you into action, hoping you'd finally do something. I-I was hoping you'd see how much I care. How much I...love you.

Your breath catches, your heart pounds in your ears, and you break character completely not caring anymore, in a trembling voice you ask, "You really feel the same way?"

Jenna nods, tears spilling over as she smiles, a mixture of relief and vulnerability in her expression.

"Yes, Q. I've always felt this way. I was just too scared to admit it... but not anymore."

You blink, struggling to process what's happening. This wasn't in the script—none of this was. But it's real, and it's happening now.

You smile through the tears, "Then let's stop pretending, Jenna. No more games... I'm yours if you'll have me.

Jenna lets out a small, tearful laugh, pulling you into a tight embrace. The cameras are still rolling despite your name drop, but none of that matters anymore. She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes shining with a love that's no longer hidden.

"I've always been yours. Always."

In that moment, you lean in, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that's filled with all the years of longing and love you've both kept hidden. When you finally pull away, you're both breathless, tears of happiness mingling with the raw emotion of the scene.

The director calls "Cut," but neither of you moves, still lost in each other's eyes. For a moment, the set is silent, the crew unsure if they've just witnessed the best acting of your careers or something far more real. But you both know the truth—and it's better than any script that could have been written.

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Opposites Attract

Astrid Deetz x Fem!Reader

Summary- You had been a psychic ever since you were a child, but recently you had been overwhelmed by how many spirits were contacting you, giving you no time to yourself anymore. Seeking out Lydia Deetz, you go to her home for advice.

Requested by @perfectartisanwerewolf

Warnings- Ghosts, probably some timeline issues, morbid facts, talking about the afterlife, more of my ghost facts (Tell me when you're getting sick of them)

When you met the Deetz family, it was several years after the whole "Ghost House" incident. They had always been kind to you and your family.

The ghosts in Winter River were more plentiful than most people knew. It happened to be a very quiet and uneventful town, but your life never had a dull moment here. You were constantly sought out after Lydia had moved. Now the deceased flocked to you for guidance.

Apparently, they described your psychic abilities as "A shining light in the never-ending darkness". Which would be flattering if they hadn't always been around you for every second of your day. Some spirits followed you to the grocery store, to school, and even sat at your desk while you were sleeping, waiting for you to awaken.

You wanted to help them; you really did. It was just that the only privacy you got now a days was when you excused yourself to use the facilities.

Recently there had been a death in the Deetz family, so Lydia had returned to town with her daughter to attend the funeral and help her stepmother, Deelia. It was like a saving grace to have someone else help with the spirits around the place.

Walking up the giant hill to their home with a stack of books in your hand was proving difficult, but you needed Lydia's help desperately. You waited patiently after knocking on their door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Lydia welcomed you into their home with a smile. After making your way to the couch and placing your books on the table, you took a quick look around the room. There were still many of Deelia's sculptures, most of them unsettling to say the very least.

Your attention shifted back to Lydia as she sat across from you. Talking about ghosts with anyone else might have been awkward, but not with her. She was almost like a second mother to you.

Even now as you sat in the house, you could sense spirits lingering just outside your line of sight.

"I agree, it can be overwhelming, you just need to learn how to set boundaries with them." She explained simply and you nodded.

"I thought I did, but I guess I could try and be sterner with them?"

Her smile grew and you both turned as you heard footsteps descending the staircase. Astrid was in the middle of putting on her sweater to leave the house when she stopped and stared at you, as if in a trance. You smiled and offered her a small wave, trying to be polite.

Your smile awakened something in Astrid. Like a light at the end of a tunnel. A breath of fresh air, or a missing puzzle piece to finally complete a part of herself that had been missing for years. The world faded as all she could focus on was you. She snapped out of it with a cough, finally making her way to stand in the living room with you both.

Lydia introduced you and in turn introduced her daughter, Astrid. It took a moment for her to regain her composure before she muttered an almost completely quiet "Hi."

On the inside, her heart pounded against her chest, but she fought to remain uninterested in anything that involved her mother. Especially now that it seemed like a complete stranger could easily occupy her mother's attention without even trying. It was frustrating.

It was an odd experience, how you made her heart pound. She wasn't sure if it was from jealousy or something more, so she opted to ignore it and continue her journey out the door.

A frown grazed your lips, confused by her behavior before you shifted back to continue your conversation from before. Lydia spoke up first. "Astrid can't see ghosts like we can. The living ignore the strange and unusual."

That didn't seem to brighten up your mood even in the slightest.

"You're saying Mrs. bright eyes can also supposedly see ghosts? Great, here I thought she seemed normal. Is there anyone normal in this town?" Astrid scrunched her nose and picked at her food as she sat at the kitchen table.

"Whatever makes us more money, maybe she could be on your show Lydia!" Deelia smiled as she continued eating, only half paying attention to their conversation.

"Maybe you would be more interested if you talked to her about it, Astrid. It could be good for you to have some friends in this town." Lydia suggested, trying to stray away from yet another argument with her daughter.

"Ghosts are everywhere, you may even see one without even realizing it. Have you ever seen someone walking on the side of the street, but when you look back they're gone?" You smiled; your books open in front of you as you spoke enthusiastically to Astrid.

You sat in her room, a stark contrast from your own. While you liked the paranormal and macabre, her room seemed more... gloomy.

Did you know how much light you radiated? Or the shimmer that appeared in your gorgeous eyes whenever you spoke about this mumbo jumbo? Astrid didn't care for spirits or the paranormal. She believed it was all fake, but the way you spoke to her and the way you looked, she swore she would follow you anywhere.

She simply nodded, trying to snap out of that trance you put her in. Sometimes she believed you must've been a witch instead of a psychic, because how had you possibly gained so much power over her cold heart?

"Are there any here now? You know, ghosts?" her eyebrow raised curiously, just thinking of an excuse for you to speak more.

"I know there is one here, but I haven't been able to place it. It's a male energy."

"Do you use candles or sprinkle some paprika on stuff for rituals?"

Her enthusiasm was great, if not a bit misplaced and incorrect. Your smile widened as you laughed, a freeing sound.

"I've been talking forever, how about you tell me something you're interested in? I know you don't care about this stuff"

Astrid froze, fearing that you caught her. She cleared her throat and blushed softly, looking away as she wracked her brain for anything interesting to say. "Did you know that Mount Everest has a certain area called 'Rainbow Valley' because of all the multicolored jackets and climbing gear that's still attached to the mummified corpses of those who failed to get to the top and froze to death?"

Your head tilted and silence loomed between you both before she spoke again.

"A cult leader named Jim Jones poisoned 918 people by forcing them to drink Kool-Aid mixed with cyanide, chloral hydrate, valium and Phenergan. It was considered one of the largest intentional losses of life since 9/11." She continued talking, trying her best to fill the silence.

Your giggles made her stop digging a deeper hole for herself. You looked amused and not terrified in the least. "Why Kool-Aid?"

"Probably because it was the cheapest" Astrid smiled wide at you, happy that you didn't see her as some sort of creep.

The next morning, Astrid was determined to gain more information about spirits, wanting another chance to spend time with you. She even went as far as to ask her mother for help, which she would deny until the end of her days.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as painful as she thought it would be. It was actually nice to have a common interest. Or so Lydia thought at least. Meanwhile she was interested in you, and not in fact her mother's psychic abilities.

By the time you showed up at her house, she opened the door to you and smiled softly, gesturing for you to come inside. She soon regretted that action as if you would think she was a dork for gesturing like a ringleader in some cheesy circus movie.

You didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil, simply enjoying the fact that she invited you back, saying she had something to share with you.

Sitting on her bed with your legs crossed, you leaned your head in your hand as you gave her your full attention. Everything you did seemed to light a spark in her chest.

"I learned some stuff about ghosts and wanted to run it by you. Maybe I could add it in with my history facts" Astrid spoke with a little more enthusiasm, as if excited to share with you.

She took a deep breath as she tried remembering all of the things her mother had previously told her. "Is it true that there are different types of ghosts? And that they're not all humans?"

You nod your head and sit up a little straighter. "Yes. There are many different classifications of ghosts, including non-human ghosts that never had a soul. Those may include poltergeists, which are simply manifestations of negative energy in a certain space. Thats why you can't communicate intelligently with a poltergeist, because they have no soul or sense of being. They're just energy."

That actually caught her attention, maybe the paranormal wasn't as fake as she thought it was. How could someone possibly come up with a lie that detailed in such a short amount of time? She sat beside you and resisted the urge to kiss you right there and then. Never in her life has she been attracted to someone simply because of their interests and passion when speaking about them.

"Will you go uh... ghost hunting with me at Dracula's castle this summer? I was planning on going there alone after... after my dad passed away. But I'd like you there."

You smiled brightly and wrapped your arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. "I would love to"

Bonus:

Lydia stood a careful distance away from Astrid's bedroom door. She wanted to give her daughter some privacy, but she was overjoyed to see the smile return to Astrid's face. The one that had been lost since her father.

She argued that it was to see what about you made her so happy. As she leaned in closer, she heard a gruff voice behind her, making her jump.

"Thats our daughter alright" He spoke, munching on a bucket of popcorn. He leaned against the wall smugly, watching Lydia with a smirk.

Her smile vanished as she stared him down. "Beetl-" She began to utter before he waved his hand dismissively.

"Alright, alright. Your Kid" He huffed out an annoyed sigh before vanishing.

A/N- I finally finished writing this one and I hope that it's to your liking! I tried my best. Usually, I base the reader off of myself to make writing it easier but I tried to switch it up a bit this time.

Thank you all for your patience with me writing this, and I'm sorry for the delay.

Please send in more requests! Next I will be working on a lost boys fic and the second part to the tom riddle series

Credits-

Book Divider- @firefly-graphics

Green swirl divider- @anitalenia

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Taglist: @mirage018

[blackenedsnow]

can you do a keatlejuice x fem reader who passes out a lot due to illness?

faint of heart

WARNING: Mentions of fainting due to illness

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: Love this idea! I have this problem as well, just not due to illness. So I hope it wrote it decently enough.

SUMMARY: You’ve been dealing with a medical condition that causes you to faint more often than you'd like. Luckily (or unluckily), Beetlejuice, is always nearby when it happens.

You were used to the feeling by now—the lightheadedness that crept in without warning, the sudden exhaustion that drained the strength from your limbs. Still, no matter how accustomed you were to your illness, it didn’t make it any easier when the world around you started to blur and tilt on its axis. It was happening again, the familiar darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision.

“Damn it…” you muttered, swaying on your feet as you reached out to steady yourself against the wall.

Unfortunately, the wall wasn’t much help, and neither was your body. You could already feel yourself slipping, your knees buckling under you as you collapsed. Just before the darkness fully swallowed you, a voice broke through the haze—raspy and loud, with a hint of annoyance.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up there, sweetheart!”

And then, everything went black.

When you came to, the first thing you noticed was the sensation of being cradled in someone’s arms—scratch that, not someone. You didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was. The smell of dirt, mildew, and that faint hint of something otherworldly told you everything you needed to know.

“Beej,” you groaned softly, trying to sit up, though a wave of dizziness made you reconsider.

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha,” Beetlejuice’s voice came from above you, and you felt yourself being jostled slightly as he adjusted his grip on you. “Don’t go makin’ it a habit to pass out every time you see my face. I know I’m hot, but c’mon.”

You blinked up at him, his wild hair and striped suit filling your vision as you tried to focus. He was holding you, bridal-style, with a grin plastered on his pale face that was just shy of mischievous.

“Y’know, I could’ve just let you hit the floor. But nooo, I’m the good guy here, right? Heroic ghost with the most, swooping in to save the day.”

You sighed, shaking your head weakly. “Thanks, Beej… but you’re really not a hero.”

He scoffed, his grin widening. “Sure I am! Who else is gonna catch you when you go timber like that? Nobody cares for ya like I do, babe.”

As much as you hated to admit it, there was some truth to his words. Despite his odd personality and penchant for making a scene, Beetlejuice was always there when you needed him. No matter how irritating he could be on a daily basis, when it came down to moments like these, he never failed to show up. Somehow. At the perfect time.

“Seriously, though,” he said, his voice dropping into something that almost sounded like concern, though he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. “You gotta stop doin’ this. You’re startin’ to freak me out.”

You managed a weak chuckle, patting his chest. “I don’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know.” Beetlejuice let out a huff, shifting you in his arms as he looked down at you with those mismatched eyes. “Still doesn’t mean I gotta like it. I mean, who’s gonna laugh at my jokes if you’re passed out half the time, huh?”

“You’re plenty funny without me,” you teased, though your voice was still quiet and a bit shaky.

“Nah,” he smirked. “I’m only funny ‘cause you laugh at all my dumb shit.”

For a moment, you both went into a comfortable silence. Sure, he was Beetlejuice—weird, loud, and often over-the-top—but beneath all that was something softer, something that genuinely cared about you. He wouldn’t admit it outright (that wasn’t his style), but the way he stayed close during your fainting spells, the way he always made sure you were okay, said more than his snarky comments ever could.

“You okay now?” he asked after a beat, setting you down gently on the couch. “You need anything? Water? Smelling salts?”

You shook your head, leaning back into the cushions as you took a few deep breaths. “I’m alright… just give me a minute.”

“Take all the time you need, dollface,” he said, plopping down beside you, legs crossed and his elbow resting on the back of the couch. “But hey, if you feel like passin’ out again, at least let me know so I can catch ya in a cool way next time. Maybe do a little spin, toss ya over my shoulder—y’know, something real dramatic.”

You smiled at him, grateful for the way he could turn even the scariest moments into something almost light-hearted. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Beetlejuice winked, tapping the side of his nose. “That’s my girl.”

[betelgeuses-wife]

Hi there!! Could I request a sweet oneshot where the Reader cuddles with BJ, combing through his hair while he curls up with her? Romantic ship bordering on platonic would be lovely!! 🥰 thank you!!

If course! I'll do my best! I hope you like it. Please let me know feedback, it helps a lot!

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Creature Comforts

🪲🧃

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You weren't entirely sure what had gotten Bee in such a put-out mood but after this long, you refrained from trying to guess, it could've been for a number of reasons or just one, perhaps one that wouldn't seem much of a big deal to you but that was Bee for you. You were used to just giving him comfort when he asked for it because it wasn't too often when he wasn't his usual, theatrical self.

Adventures in Babysitting was playing on the TV while you both were on the couch, you were sat up with your legs resting on the footrest and Bee was laying with his head in your lap; a pillow under him. He seemed unusually quiet and you wondered what was on his mind, usually he'd have made some crude jokes about the lead actress by now. He'd have found a number of ways to try to make you laugh but it was radio silence on his end. With Bee's lack of personality showing, you were barely paying attention to the movie yourself but you weren't particularly in a bad mood, you just wanted to find a way to make Bee...well. Himself again. You knew people had their off days and you supposed ghosts did too.

You were running your fingers through his hair gently, not really even aware you were doing so until you caught a knot and heard Bee grumble.

A "Sorry...", whispered, slipped from your before pursed lips. Your gaze settling on Bee rather than the screen, now slightly more focused on gently getting the knot out without disturbing him more. Bee didn't often care about his appearance either, he'd rarely ask for help with his hair but he hadn't complained since he had come to rest his head in your lap about a half an hour ago. So, you figured he didn't hate it.

You'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought of snuggling up with him and taking advantage of the silence but in all honesty you wanted to just comfort him. There were a number of things that were left unspoken between the two of you, each of you held your own secrets about your dynamic. Perhaps denial was at play but at times, your flirtatious, playful moments you shared bordered closer to your feelings and wants for Bee than you'd care to admit. You stated you'd only let him be around so long as it was platonic and here you were questioning that.

"What's on ya mind, Sweets?" His gravelly voice pulled you from your thoughts. Perhaps your lack of detangling had earned his attention.

"I could ask you the same thing. You've been quiet too." Your eyes locked onto his as Bee had turned to look up at you.

"Just'a thinkin, s'all."

"Want to talk about it?"

"What. 'N' ruin your quiet time?"

"I'll take that as a no then. Want to cuddle...then?" Your voice softer, perhaps given the quiet, almost tender exchange of time you had shared over the last hour, it felt a little strange. Perhaps edging into romantic territory but you hid your thoughts as you felt Bee move to sit up.

"C'mere then" he offered as his arms hung open.

Your momentary worry about overstepping boundaries was washed away and you shifted over into his arms, sinking into his hold as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, giving you a quick squeeze. He wasn't warm but it was still comforting. You knew how to compensate for the cons of him being a ghost. The house was always made warmer in the evenings during the colder seasons so you didn't notice the coldness of his touch, a hot water bottle also helped too. But having a cold body body hug helped in the summer. A welcomed feeling when you started to overheat. You found ways to adapt to what were issues before. Perhaps the fact you had embraced ways to make living together work had been the reason he trusted you, and you loved seeing his reaction to your ideas, you saw how he had felt seen, properly seen after decades of people wanting to just get rid of him.

You could feel as he relaxed, glancing up to see his eyes now on the screen, perhaps whatever had been troubling him had settled, he seemed more content with you in his arms. Maybe that was just your mind looking into it too much though. You weren't willing to say anything was for certain.

"Like what ya see, Tootz?"

"Shut up, Juice."

"Whatcha gunna do? Make me?"

You rolled your eyes as you watched him raised his eyebrows a few times and winked. You swatted his chest and turned back to the TV. But you were still aware of his hand on your lower back, rubbing it confortingly in small motions, something you often had needed after a long day but you supposed he had gotten so used to it that he was doing it without realising.

You hadn't really realised it until that moment but you had both slotted into living together quite well, and had learnt how best to comfort each other, even without knowingly doing so. You had him to come home to and he knew you'd always come back or let him know if you weren't. You both gave each other someone to rely on, at a time you both needed it. Perhaps that was the blessing the people before you saw as a curse.

[taracarpsnter]

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wr

gifs cc: @apara-dise-penguin 🖤

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Interloper [Part 1]

Beetlejuice x Reader

Summary: Strange, supernatural occurrences have been happening around the Reader’s new home. Little does she know, a certain dead guy has taken a liking to her.

a/n: I love Beetlejuice sm. Can’t wait to get to the smutty details on this one

-> Part 1.5 // Part 2 //

~~~

First it was some handprints on the mirror in your bathroom. Not really something out of ordinary. Choosing not to think much of it and going on with things. You had more important things to worry about than questioning who had put their grimy hands on your mirror.

But when things started going missing around the house, you grew concerned. Noting how one of your favorite pairs of panties had disappeared from the drawer. Catching the lingering smell of your expensive perfume and how the bottle somehow was disappearing at a rapid pace. Yet there was no sign of forced entry anywhere.

“It’s just kinda weirding me out,” you scanned around your bedroom as you were on the phone with your mom.

“Maybe it’s just one of your friends playing a prank on you,” she attempting to soothe you from the other end of the line.

“I don’t think any of my friends who think something like this is funny,” you sighed sitting down on your bed. Lying back and covering your face with your arms. Frustrated by the strange and unusual things happening around your home.

“Well it is a possibility,” she snipped at you.

“Or this place is haunted and the ghost wants me out,” you snickered.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been watching too much TV,” you could hear her eye roll through the phone.

And maybe you had. You did love that show with that ghost-hunter who would discuss ghosts in homes of families. True crime being another favorite of yours. And you did live alone so it was easy for things to get to your head. Still too afraid to go into the upstairs of your new place. But you could not deny that you believed in the paranormal. There was no doubt in your mind.

“Just try and relax, honey,” your mom said as you ended the phone call. Throwing your legs over the bed when you noticed a flyer flipped over on the floor. Curiosity taking over as you picked it up. The picture of a man with long scraggly hair in a robe on a heart-shaped bed plastered on the front. Hearts and depictions of Cupid accenting the text.

“Bio exorcist?… Looking for a— love connection???” You were completely confused. Noticing how it urged you to call, but there was no phone number written on it. Just an oddly spelled name.

“Betelgeuse…?”

There was a breeze blown through your room. Shocking your senses and causing you to rush up off your bed. Noticing how your bedroom window had blown open. Forcing it closed against the strangely strong wind. Remembering how it had not been windy all day.

Hands planting firmly on your hips as you turned around and scanned your entire room. “What the fuck is going on!” You proclaimed frustrated by everything happening around you. Deciding to go watch some TV in the living room in an attempt to cool down. Clicking on the newest episode of your favorite show.

“Today I want to talk to you about unwanted guests in your home,” the woman on the screen stared heavily into the camera. You laughed.

“Sometimes, ghosts and ghouls will take a liking to the living. And when that happens, they will often try and reach out to you. Wanting to become a welcome guest in your home. Normally, they’re satisfied when they catch your attention with some simpler tactics. Leaving footprints or handprints on your things—“ You sat up suddenly more interested in what she had to say. “Maybe rearranging your stuff or taking something they noticed you use often. But when that does not work, they will begin taking more direct measures. Leaving stuff from their world for you. Causing strange small surges of weather or sounds. Depending on the level of dead you’re dealing with, they may even start speaking to you.”

You furrowed your brows. Everything she had said completely applied to you. Almost as if it was written for you. You quickly clicked the TV off, sitting forward with your hands against your legs. Your mother’s words rang in your mind. You’ve been watching too much TV. This was supposed to calm you down but it sent your mind into a spiral.

Storming off to your room and locking the door behind you. Breathing heavily as you leaned against the back. Hand gripping your chest as your breath heaved. Closing your eyes and cupping your mouth. Sliding down into the floor.

The paper flew across the floor. Sliding directly beside you. Eyes locked on the old flyer. Feeling like there was another pair of eyes in the room with you. “I don’t understand what you want from me,” you sighed leaning your head against the door.

“I just wanna get to know you, babes,” a voice sounded like it was right against your ear. Scratchy and rough. You whipped your head around seeing if somehow, there was someone beside you. There was no one. A chuckle filled your room. You looked around, not seeing a remnant of a person.

“Did you break in?” Your voice cracked as you scanned for something to defend yourself with.

“Nah. I’ve been here longer than you have, sweetheart,” that same voice came from under your bed now. Crawling over and looking under it. There was nothing. That same chuckle from before. “Nice try looking, but you aren’t gonna find me,” he laughed at you. You stood up. Hands running down your face, falling forward onto your bed. Sighing loudly as you stared at yourself in the mirror across from your bed. Loosing all caring you had for the situation at hand.

“Seems like I’m losing ya here,” that voice grumbled above you, “And as much as I do love the view, I need a little more than that.”

The mirror began to fog up. You pushed yourself up getting closer to the glass. A finger began writing something on the mirror.

“Betelgeuse…” you read out loud as the words continued to appear.

“Betelgeuse… Betelgeuse.”

“OH-HO-HO! Now that’s what I’m talking about!” The mirror began cracking, a bright green light shining through. Shielding your face as the glass hit the floor and your entire room illuminated with the green flash. Opening your eyes again to see a man in a striped black and white suit standing in front of you. Skin pale, greenish-blonde hair falling down to his shoulders, teeth discolored. Your jaw hung open in shock.

“Oh my God,” you got out.

“I knew you’d come around, doll! Been waiting for you to say that sweet, sweet name of mine!”

~

[END//PART 1]

// Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed the start, I can’t wait to keep writing for this! If you are interested in being tagged let me know. //

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: swearing, Beetlejuice

“killing children is illegal right?” I asked as I slammed the door. Beetlejuice appeared with a pop. He looked at me for a second before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“I mean are we talking your own or someone else’s?” He asked, flopping on the couch. “Because if we’re talking your own, we’re gonna have to get to work on that first.” Beetlejuice grabbed his crotch and squeezed, raising his eyebrows seductively at me. I rolled my eyes and smacked his shoulder.

”don’t make me send you back.” I pointed a finger at him. Beetlejuice held up his hands in surrender.

“alright. Alright.” He said. “But unfortunately yeah it is. Why?”

“why?” I asked with a laugh. “Did you not see what happened? I know you were there. They destroyed the display. They scared the scare actors. And I swear to god one of them had a real knife!” Beetlejuice nodded with a frown. “If that doesn’t warrant it then I don’t know what does!”

“honey…don’t get mad…” Beetlejuice said, getting up and holding his hands up again. “But I think you should take a nap. Maybe things will be better later.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead.

“I can’t beej.” I shook my head. “I have to fix the display and…”

“hey. Leave it to me.” Beetlejuice put his hands on my shoulders. “I’ll take care of it. Make a few calls.” Beetlejuice kissed me softly, making me hold onto his shirt slightly. “Trust me.”

“I guess I could…” I said, brushing my hand through his hair.

“good. Good. Good.” He muttered. “I got this babe. Call in the finest contractors the underworld can offer.” I nodded as I headed off to bed. The next morning, I woke up to Beetlejuice sprawled out on top of me.

"Beej." I groaned as I climbed out from under him. He jolted awake and blinked at me sleepily.

"Wha?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes and turning to snuggle into the pillow more. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to stop suffocating me in my sleep." I teased, poking his ass as I headed into the bathroom. "What time did you get in last night?" There wasn't a reply so I assumed he went back to sleep. Shrugging to myself, I quickly showered and went to the kitchen to grab something to eat. "Shit." I muttered when Beetlejuice looked up at me from his spot at the table. "Warn a person why don't you." I mumbled as I went about making myself breakfast. Beetlejuice slid a cup of coffee over to me with a small smile.

"What are you doing today?" He asked, sipping his own coffee. "Aside from me of course." I rolled my eyes as he chuckled at his own joke.

"Checking on the display. Seeing where you left off and finishing putting it back together." I shrugged. "Why? Did you have something planned?" Beetlejuice shook his head.

"When did you want to go?" He asked, voice surprisingly soft.

"How about after we eat?" I asked. Beetlejuice nodded, getting up and kissing me softly. "What has gotten into you today?" I laughed as he sat in my lap. He shrugged, smiling at me.

"Aside from the fact I'm dating the most wonderful breather ever?" He asked. I smiled at him and cupped his cheek. Beetlejuice kissed my palm. "I think I have a new appreciation for you after working most of the night to get the display back up. All the work you put into it. All the work you are still putting into it with the scare actors. All of it."

"Oh." I felt my cheeks heat up at that. "Well...I mean..." Beetlejuice kissed me.

"Don't sell yourself short sweetheart." He whispered. "You did a lot of good work and you deserve the praise." I nodded, accepting that he would keep going until I let it go. We ate breakfast like that, Beetlejuice sitting in my lap and trying to make me laugh so hard milk came out of my nose. He nearly succeeded but stopped when I gently shoved him off my lap. Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and the dishes were done. I stood up as he popped over to the bedroom. "Hurry up and get dressed. I wanna show you what I did." He rocked on his heels as he waited for me to get dressed. When I finally exited the bedroom, he took my arm and transported us to the display.

"I still hate that." I mumbled as I grabbed his arm to try to steady myself. "Always makes me feel weird." I shook my head to try to fix whatever it was I was feeling. Beetlejuice chuckled before covering my eyes. "Ah man! Come on Beej! I'm already unsteady and now you wanna do this crap?" I was slowly walked further into the park before he lifted his hands.

"Ok. Now look." I opened my eyes and my jaw dropped. "I know it isn't exactly the same but..." I turned around and grabbed his tie, pulling his towards me. Beetlejuice squeaked before his hands settled on my hips. I kissed him as hard as I could, trying to put all the raging emotions I was feeling into it.

"Fuck me Beej." I breathed out when I pulled away. Beetlejuice gave me a shit eating grin and a wink before turning to look at the display. "I love it. I can't wait to show everyone." He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and smiled.

"Yeah? You really like it?" He asked, voice going soft at the end.

"It's amazing Beej." I breathed out. "Now give me a tour." He nodded happily before leading me around the work he had done.

[justivik]

DISCO.

jeremy (arthur conti) x fem! reader.

author's note and warnings: i decided that jeremy in this fanfic ( maybe in the future fanfics i will make) will not be a ghost!!! PLEASE if u like this and want more pls repost and support <3

“Cause there's nothing like it not like the way you move”

It was a Thursday night, and the autumn chill seemed to have no end. The orange, green and purple lights of the neighborhood flickered, casting an intermittent glow on the worn sidewalk. You were riding your worn bike to your boyfriend's house, wearing a sweater to keep warm so you wouldn't get sick on it. You stopped in front of the white door and settled into your costume and your fist let play a tune you were familiar with.

“hey”

His gaze seemed to slowly drift down your body, examining the clothes you were wearing.

The boy with the brown curls said. Your boyfriend, Jeremy.

“You look…amazing”

You felt your cheeks burn from his flattery. He could still make you feel nervous with his words or looks.

“And you look handsome in your cowboy costume, jey”

You walked into the house and could feel the ambiance of the familiar place. It seemed as if time had stopped inside those walls, and the atmosphere, with the mix of yellow light and the smell of candles, had an air of tranquility, almost as if you were inside a pumpkin cinnamon cookie. Jeremy took your hand and they climbed up the stairs to his room filled with posters, halloween decorations and indie music playing in the background.

Halloween was in both of your plans as a date where you two would eat candy until y'all burst and possibly watch movie marathons.

Between the laughter, unfinished words because of the candy being shoved into both of your mouths and the sound of UNO's cards being exchanged, a moving and happy melody began to play for the whole ambiance but you both loved that kind of songs

“Oh! I love this song. Come on, let's dance.”

The brown guy grabbed your palm and started singing while you laughed nervously for not knowing what to do.

“Take a picture before this song is over, love”

You quickly went for your polaroid camera and came back to continue watching Jeremy wiggle like a happy worm. You called out to him and he grabbed his last piece of candy to pose for the picture, the flash attacked both of your faces but a smile was on your face.

“We look amazing, jey!”

i know its september but i loved beetlejuice beetlejuice and jeremy sooooooooo 😁

[i-llo]

Crazy fics ideas, hear me out:

Posted the fic here!

Beetlejuice shouldn't have married Dolores, destiny was set for him to meet the protagonist, but he was killed before that happened.

Now she dies and comes back every time, trying to find Beetlejuice and save them both.

The Deetz and the Maitlands felt sorry for him after the end and searched for a way to help him, so they end up finding out about this past, which he didn't know about, and want to reunite them.

• Her death was very painful and sad on the first time, that would explain why she was given the chance to come back,

• The family, seeing her fall in love with a grave robber, marries her to a bad man who only wants their money, and he ends up killing her (The Corpse Bride style),

• She may have been the person who found his body and promised to love him and be with him in the afterlife/other lives, that's why the curse began,

• With him killing the leader (Dolores), the cult's followers kill her every time so they don't meet,

• She was supposed to help him improve, as a person, but this didn't happen, that's why he can't make the passing/crossing and got stuck all those years,

• The protagonist has a fixed age to die, like 25 years old, and never manages to go beyond that, making her go through this cycle several times at different times,

• Mix it with the musical, perhaps? I feel like he's more susceptible to love and be loved.

Sorry if anything sounded weird, English is not my first language, but if someone use any of these ideias, please let me know, I would love to read!

[prettyboypistol]

OMG the Beetlejuice fic well has been DRY lately so I would really love a Beetlejuice x gn reader where Reader and BJ play hide and seek in the town model and then somehow... I'm not sure how but I bet you would be creative enough to figure it out for me... Reader confesses and then they kiss or something teehee 🫶 ty feel free to ignore if you want

Found You~ || Beetlejuice x GN!Reader

You weren't scared of Beetlejuice when you first summoned him in your death. Honestly, you were just lost, looking for a friend, and called out his name when you found his ad. He was... not what you imagined, to be honest. He was sleazy, crusty, and gross in every sense of the word. But that didn't stop your feelings from developing.

You two were great friends in the netherworld, with Beetlejuice dragging you along on misadventures as his "apprentice in bio-exorcism" which was just an excuse to drag you out to the land of the living once every blue moon or so.

You two had found a lovely little home in the Maitland's town model behind their backs. Adam went full-on with open doors in the buildings and mini furniture- which made it great for hide-and-seek.

You two were being the overgrown children you both are, scaring each other by jumping out behind corners and yelling, but this time, you were lost in thought. You wanted to confess your feelings for the "ghost with the most". Would he even like you? He was clearly hung up on Lydia- for manipulation purposes or not, he clearly was obsessed with her. Who were you kidding, you didn't stand a chance.

"BOO!" A shriek jolted you out of your daze as you screamed in fright.

"Jesus Christ!" You yelled out as you caught your non-existent breath. "You- holy shit Beej, you scared the fuck outta me!"

"I was aiming for scaring the life outta you, but hey, that works I guess. Whatcha thinkin' about? Am I too boring for you?" Beetlejuice teased as he boxed you into a half-kabedon, clearly trying to pry. You rolled your eyes and shoved him off playfully.

"Nothing, just thinking about how much of a gross creep you are." You responded, just as playful.

"Ooooh, tryin' to hit on me, are you?" Beetlejuice winked as he intentionally popped his eyeballs out to look you up and down.

"God no." You laughed, lying.

Beetlejuice stopped for a moment, trying to figure you out. It made you uncomfortable as he suddenly became more slightly more serious.

"You gotta be kidding me, right?" Beetlejuice muttered.

"What?" You asked, confused and slightly unnerved.

"Hun, I'm a demon, I can smell when people are sinnin', and you just broke..." He leaned closer to you and inhaled slowly. "Number... nine? Nine is the lying one, right? Anyways, perks of being a demon-ghost-thing."

You froze.

"Uh- you good?"

You tried to speak, but nothing came out. You felt your face turn a bright red, despite not having a circulatory system.

"Fuck you." You mumbled. "I hate you and your stupid powers."

"Oh."

Beetlejuice took a second to realize what you said.

"Oh."

"Well uh- I- damn babe, you got me tongue tied! Haha! It's not like me to be caught off guard. Not to say you ain't smokin'- it's just uh- I never thought about you in that way before."

"Yeah, no, just forget I even said anythin-"

Beetlejuice cut you off by pushing you against the wall of the building and kissing you. It was rough, unpracticed, and utterly disgusting with far too much tongue for a first confession kiss, but it was wholly Beetlejuice, which made it perfect.

[iwriteiguessandiloveit]

BJ's Gift (part 1)

and the post we've all been waiting for...

BJ's Gift (part 1)

“C’mon baby, not even after all I've done for ‘ya?” Beetlejuice clasps his hands together like a begging man and dramatically falls to his knees. “Three little words, that's all it’ll take.” You lower yourself down so your face is level with the town model. “No, BJ. Every time I let you out, you do some crazy shit I have to fix.” 

He put a hand to his chest, mock offended. “You were the one ‘ta ask me to get rid’a your nasty roommate. I just followed orders.” A small bright yellow circle rings his head and he gives what you think is supposed to be an innocent grin before it turns red and breaks. “Woops.” 

Before you can stop it, a smile forms on your lips and you giggle. “I didn't ask you to possess her and make her suck on the landlord’s toes. He had a fungal infection, for goodness sake.” 

He shimmied up a plastic tree to be more level with you, lounging on a branch with his feet kicking through the air. “I never said I'd be humane about it. Besides, I’d tried the normal spooky poltergeist shtick. She was a toughie.” 

You shook your head. ‘Mmmmmm… I guess.’

It was true. You’d found a poster advertising Beetlejuice, claiming he could scare any living being into leaving your house top-speed. You were so fed up with your nasty roommate making snarky comments, not picking up after themselves, etcetera; That you’d taken a shot in the dark. And somehow it worked. But he’d gotten rid of her in the most disgusting way possible, and yeah, you were a little put out with the Ghost With The Most. 

Ever since that ‘little incident’, he'd been a constant presence in your life. Harassing you through the bathroom mirror while you were in the shower, glitching out your computer screen with his special pop-up ads, begging you to let him out again so he could go feral. You never obliged, of course, considering the amount of havoc he wreaked on your life the first time you met him. You kept telling yourself to ignore him, get rid of him through any means necessary; But somehow after a long day, you'd find yourself walking up the creaky attic stairs, crossing over to the model town, squatting down and whispering-"BJ? 'You there?" It was infuriating that you were so attached. 

Turning on your heels, you made a show of leaving. “Bye, BJ.” 

“Wait-WAIT! There's somethin’ I got for ‘ya!” The urgency in his tone made you turn around. 

‘That got your attention, didn't it?’ Beetlejuice chuckled. ‘Pop those three B-words and it’s all yours.'

‘This better not be a trick.’ 

He put his hands palms-up in front of you, shrugging. ‘When have I ever lied to ‘ya, Babes?’ 

You shouldn't have done it, but he had the dopiest, most shit-eating grin on his face. Maybe you were just tired of his begging, or maybe (just maybe) you were a little curious of what he was on about. So despite your better judgment, you threw your head back and dramatically sighed-‘Beetlejuice…’ 

He dropped out of the tree and landed on his ass. ‘I knew you’d come around! We’re gonna have the time of our afterlives, I promise-’ 

‘Beetlejuice!’ The room began to spin and floaters flashed across your vision. 

‘C’mon, just one more…’  through your hazy vision Beej was bouncing up and down pumping his fists in the air.

‘BEETLEJUICE!!!’ You heard a faint ‘it’s showtime!’ and the world exploded into a burst of acid green light; The floor slipped out from under you and you plummeted down a spiral of black and white. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~thanks for reading! Stay tuned for part 2, where things get better~

(Thanks to Voidgoulette, who inspired me with her asks on 'anything Keatlejuice')

-IWIGAILI

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

summary: In a town divided between two rival street racing crews, you’re caught between your cousin’s crew, the Sinners and Jenna, a mysterious girl from the Vipers who’s more than just a pretty face. Both of you need something from each other, but as the stakes rise, you’re left wondering: what makes your heart race more— the thrill of the competition or the girl who’s impossible to ignore?

word count: 6.7k

A very special thank you to @ortegalvr for giving me the very much needed nudge to start moving my work to Tumblr. And to @cobaltperun for being so patient and thoroughly answering all my questions, essentially giving me (a Tumblr noob) a dummies guide to Tumblr. Appreciate you both!

————

Why is it that some of the best feel goods in life can just as easily kill you if you indulge in it too much?

Alcohol, drugs, illegal driving... love?

Fortunately for you, you only indulge in only one of those.

There's just something so satisfying about watching your car pick up speed; watching the little arm on the speed gauge reach it's full potential.  If cars are able to reach those speeds then they should, it's a fact of the matter.  And when you're surrounded by cars all your life and the only reason you have a livelihood is because of those three thousand pounds of steel, you're bound to make some fun out of it.

You push down on the accelerator with more pressure, reaching speeds of almost 180 km/hour when you see the flashing blue and red lights in the rear view mirror.

The feds.

"Took them longer than usual." you thought out loud.

Now there could be two reasons they're after you. The obvious, speeding.  But then there's also the fact that you stole the beauty you're driving from the town's richest neighbourhood, Summer Valley.

Of course stealing it is not enough for you, so you made some tweaks here and there in the garage so this ride could be even more illegal than it already is, and now you're selling it to an off the grid buyer.

Escaping the police wasn't something new, it's become routinely. You'd be more concerned if the cops weren't on your tail during a delivery.

You make a sharp turn right into a short alleyway marking the start of this high speed chase.

Being the exceptional mechanic that you are, your work on this car has given it a larger than usual turn radius which allowed the turn to be much smoother, giving you a good head start.

"Why are these fuckers in the middle of road!" You yelled panickily, upon seeing the herd of people in front of you.

You don't know when people decided to ditch the sidewalks and walk in the middle of the road, but clearly, you missed the memo.  You were forced to sound the horn a few times, and luckily the pedestrians were responsive and didn't cause you to lose your lead on the cop, but it may have alerted them—if you were lucky enough to lose them in the first place.

Once you finally got out of the alleyway, your phone started ringing, stealing your focus from the dark road in front of you to glance down at your phone for a millisecond.

Anton. Your cousin.

Anton Y/l/n. Your older cousin of three years. He was an impulsive firecracker that has the tendency to rope you into his shenanigans, not deliberately of course.  Despite his flaws he'd do anything for family. You like to joke around and call him Dom Toretto, and those jokes have only gotten worse after he buzzed his head after an unfortunate grease spillage accident that was entirely his and your fault.

That five letter name is the most anxiety inducing noun known to man in your books and everytime you answer the older guy's call, you feel as if your gambling your mental health.  He could either be calling to tell you about a huge car gig that he scored for you both or that he owes a million dollar debt.

You legit never know.

You groan and answer the call, putting it on speaker and tossing the phone to the passenger seat.

"What now?" you yell over the sounds of acceleration and police sirens.

"Come to Chester and Dan's lane." He says straight to the point, not questioning the noises he hears on your end of the phone. "After your delivery of course." At this point he's used to his little cousin getting chased down by the cops too.

"What's happening at Chester and Dan?" You ask looking at the side view mirror, squinting at the piercing blue and red flashes.

"Sinners are doing a couple rounds before the big race tomorrow. Join us, it'll be fun."

You sigh at your cousin's billionth attempt to get you acquainted with the Sinners. He's been trying ever since he first started as a general member of the club to now, the leader of the street race club.

"We'll see, I'm kind of in the middle of something," you shout over the sound of the tires screeching from a sharp turn you just made.

"Ugh! I'm not gullible like the other fucks in your life. Don't 'we'll see' me thinking it'll keep me satisfied and off your back for a while."

"I'm busy."

"Just step on the gas you pussy, going past two hundred won't kill you."

With a roll of your eyes, you think that you've entertained Anton's wishes enough and hung up the phone with the determination to lose the cops and deliver the 1969 Ford Mustang you're driving in one piece.

Twenty minutes later, a handful full of sharp turns later and momentarily stopping to let a group of duckling cross the street, you were finally at your destination.

"Car looks good to me," the off the grid buyer who introduced himself as John said with an approving nod after surveying the vintage black vehicle for quite some time.

You let out a breath.  You've made your fair share of deliveries over the years, and just like Anton's calls, you never know the type of customer you're gonna get.

Some customers complain about the price of parts, or a scratch on the car that doesn't exist or they go back on their word and attempt to haggle the price to something ridiculous.

"Nice work kid," John says handing you the promised amount you both settled on a couple weeks prior.  You didn't have to count the stash of cash to know that all of it was there.

"Finally," you sigh, smiling at the wad of cash in your hands and running your thumb along the bills, walking towards the direction of home.

Suddenly a car pulls up. "Give me the cash or give me your life. Your choice." Before you can register the words, you're met with the barrel of a pistol pointed at you through an unrolled passenger side window.

You knew you weren't a fighter nor were you confrontational. Even though you grew up in the tougher parts of the town, your brain is what got you out of your predicaments. If you were a fighter you wouldn't be spending your life stealing, fixing and selling cars.

Laughter interrupted you from handing over the cash.  Confused, you focus on the face holding the glock, and all previous thoughts disappeared and was now replaced with relief and anger.

"What the fuck Anton!" you angrily say, hopping into the passenger seat of the car next to your laughing cousin.

You knew better than to question the fact that your cousin had a gun. When you're the leader of a street race club, you need protection. Especially when all the other club owners own a gun, and fights always break out.

"You should've seen your face," he slips out in his fit of laughter, beginning to drive off as his cousin settles in his car.

"I thought you were street smart, you know better than to walk around this time flaunting your cash."

"I can handle myself, but yeah I should've been more careful. I was just a little excited finally getting paid," You admit, recalling the rut you've recently been in and the struggles you and your mother have recently been facing to make ends meet.

Anton acknowledges the response, "You know you could always ask me for help?

"My mom wouldn't take it."

Anton let's out a loud sigh, "No offense dude, but I don't get your mom's deal.  She acts as if I'm the reason our dads are dead."

You wince at the mention of your dead fathers.  Sometimes you wonder how Anton could talk about this stuff so easily.  "You just resemble Uncle so much, and to be fair you are following the same path as him."

Anton's father and yours, who were brothers, founded the Sinner's Race Club.  Anton's dad had always been your father's right-hand man in races, often riding in the passenger seat.  During a high-stakes race meant to settle a territory dispute, the brakes on your father's car failed, and both men were pronounced dead at the scene.

Since then, your mom understandably kept you away from cars, Anton, and anything related to the race club. She forbade you from getting a driver's license and doesn't even know you have one. Hiding it wasn't difficult, though, given that your family has more pressing expenses than a car.

"Alright, we're here," Your cousin announces, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I still think you should show up tomorrow. Sleep on it."

You step out of the car, once Anton puts the money you made from your sale in a spare backpack he had. So your mom wouldn't ask questions.

"How was your shift?" your mom asks from the couch as you walk through the door.

"Fine, just sore from lifting all those boxes," you lie smoothly.

"Hmm, get to bed early tonight."

As you head toward your room, her voice calls out again. "Oh, and Y/n," she says, making you turn back. "That better not have been Anton dropping you off."

You stay silent and head to bed, unsure of what tomorrow will bring.

————

"How the hell does your mom not catch on? She really thinks some warehouse gig's got you pullin' in forty grand at a time?"

You wipe the sweat of your brow, while you grab a car wrench. "She doesn't know I make that much, I help pay the rent and get food on our table. The rest I save."

"Smart. So, what's the big plan? Get outta Brimstone? Buy yourself a mansion in Summer Valley?" Mason sneers condescendingly.

This morning, you woke up to a text from Anton that convinced you to at least help prep the cars for tonight's big race, even if you don't plan on showing up. Now, you find yourself at the Brimstone Sinner's garage, the garage where you do your car modifications which sits at the edge of Sinner territory.

The place is buzzing with other club members scattered around, working on various cars. You, Anton, and—unfortunately—Mason, a friend of Anton's, who somehow wormed his way into the conversation, are huddled by the main cars, making sure they're in prime condition for the race.

"Ay! Stop distracting my best mechanic!" Anton shouts over the hood of the car to Mason.

Before you knew it you were rolling under the car via the creeper to work on the underside of the car. As you were finishing up you suddenly heard the garage go dead silent, but you didn't know why since your view was limited.

You hear Anton break the silence, "You got some fucking nerve walking into my garage asshat."

As you were lying on your back you could see about one foot from the ground up. You couldn't see who it was, but you could tell where they were from. The grey Dior dunks paired with the most unfashionable pants ever told you everything you needed to know.

Someone from Summer Valley is here.

Then came the laugh. That short, arrogant chuckle, the kind that practically exhaled wealth. Privilege. The very thing you despised.

"Just wanted to see you pussies before you lose all your dignity—oh and your garage. I'm already imagining what I'm gonna do with the place," the voice laughs again.

The conversation around you fades as your mind fixates on a single phrase. Lose the garage? Your hand curls into a tight fist, knuckles turning white. Did your dumbass cousin actually gamble the garage for tonight's race?

You try to focus your hearing, trying to see if anyone else is upset by the fact. But it's silent, they're unfazed, indifferent to the fact that Anton—the club's supposed leader—might have just wagered the club's most valuable asset. Property. You let out a sharp exhale. This is exactly what you couldn't stand about racers. They're all thrill-seeking junkies who only care about going fast. Does no one else here realize the gravity of losing this garage?

Anton snaps you back to reality. "Percy you ain't riding tonight if you're dead. Now get the fuck out before you catch a bullet."

Percy.

Leader of the Summer Valley Vipers. Just another privileged trust fund brat, bored one summer, who saw that the kids on the wrong side of the tracks had a race club and wanted in. So formed his own club. For the Vipers, racing was a hobby. For anyone from Brimstone? It was survival.

Once the obnoxious figure in those ridiculous pants left the garage, you rolled out from under the car, wiping grease from your hands. A quick glance around told you that everyone had already returned to their tasks, like the tense exchange with the Viper hadn't even happened.

Jaw clenched, you stomped over to Anton and gave him a firm nudge—just hard enough to make your frustration clear. "What the hell, Ant?"

Anton, mid-conversation with Madison—one of the club's members—turned to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"What? Seriously?" you snap. "What was Pissy going on about, losing the garage?"

He let out a long, drawn-out sigh before flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Relax, Y/n. It's just to raise the stakes, nothing serious."

"Nothing serious?" you say, mirroring his words once again. "This is my fucking livelihood, I can't live without this garage Ant? Where else am I going to fix cars?!"

Anton calmy takes one last drag, puts out his cigarette, and gestures for you to follow him outside of the garage, away from the rest of the club members.

Once you were outside Anton wasted no time in getting to the point.

"I'm only gonna say this once, Y/n. Don't ever talk to me like that in front of my people again. I run this crew."

His gaze softened slightly as he added, "I know we're family, but out here, I gotta be their leader. You get me?"

You nod understanding the politics of running a club like this. It wasn't simple and it wasn't like Anton was being rude to you.

"Now kid, listen to me very closely." Anton starts, his eyes narrowing, words firm.

You hated when he called you "kid," and Anton damn well knew it.  He was only three years older, but you decided to bite your tongue this time, sensing he had something important to say.

"You don't take risks," he said, his voice steady.

You opened your mouth to cut him off, but he quickly held up a hand, his words rushing out before you could get a word in. "—hold on, let me finish! I know you think stealing cars, making illegal mods, and dodging the feds is risky—and yeah, it is... for most people. But not for you. You're too good at it. It's not a risk when you know you're always gonna pull it off. You're in your comfort zone. You don't even flinch anymore."

You crossed your arms, shaking your head. "I don't need the gamble, Ant. Why would I put myself in a position to lose something—everything?"

"But why wouldn't you?" Anton fires back passionately.

For a moment neither of you say anything.

"That's the problem, Y/n," he said finally, his voice low. "You don't take real risks anymore because you're afraid to lose. But sometimes... you gotta lose something to really win. You know what I'm saying?"

You frowned, not fully understanding. "What's that even supposed to mean? I'm not trying to play some high-stakes game just for the thrill of it."

"That's not what I'm talking about, kid. I'm saying there's more to life than just getting by. You can't just keep doing the same shit because it's easy and familiar.  You gotta challenge yourself, push yourself outta that comfort zone. That's where the real reward is."

You shifted uncomfortably, not liking where the conversation was headed. "So what, you want me to throw myself into danger for no reason? What are you really getting at, Ant?"

His gaze stayed steady, not backing down. "I'm talking about the garage. Everything we've built. If you keep playing it safe, we'll stay small. But if we take some risks?  We could grow this into something huge, we could run the city, Y/n."

His words hung in the air, heavy. You hesitated, feeling the pressure. "And what's the catch?"

A slow smirk crept onto his face as he leaned in. "The catch is, we go all in, or we lose it all."

Your head shook slightly, confused and uneasy. Anton sounded insane right now, with all this talk of taking over the city. "I don't know," you muttered, your voice wavering.

"I'm not saying you have to. Maybe this," he said, gesturing around the garage and the cars. "...isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive Y/n/n? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

————

"Just get home safe, and grab me a pack of cigarettes on your way," your mom says, her tone casual.  You exhale, relieved she let you leave without too many questions.

After your talk with Anton, and spending hours tuning up cars for the race, you head home, but your mind lingers on what your cousin said earlier.  His words hit deeper than you care to admit—he was right.  You've been stuck in your comfort zone for far too long, and you can't even remember the last time you did something that pushed your boundaries.

So, here you are, lying to your mom about getting called in for a late night shift when in reality, you're on your way to the race between the Sinners and Vipers.

Anton was practically beaming when you told him you were finally coming to the race.  He couldn't wait to give you a ride to the track.

"Took me, what—six years?  Finally got you to show up," Anton shakes his head, laughing as you slide into the passenger seat.

You ignore his teasing, cutting straight to the point.  "You nervous?"

"Nah, fuck no. Pussy's a trash driver—he's got nothing on me."

Your eyes widen.  "Wait, this is a title race?"

You didn't realize the leaders of both clubs were squaring off tonight.  A title race meant more than bragging rights—both sides were gambling big, this race could mean life or death for both clubs.

You were about to ask what else Anton had on the line besides the garage, but the car suddenly surged forward, the burst of speed nearly throwing you out of your seat.

"What the hell! Slow down!" you shout, gripping the armrest tightly.

"Relax, I'm not even hitting two hundred yet—"

The older driver begins to roll his windows up, a sign that he wants to go even faster. The world outside blurred as the engine roared, drowning out the sound of your pulse hammering in your ears.

"Anton. Stop." Your voice is steady, firmer than ever leaving no room for argument.

The driver sighs, gradually slowing the car down to legal road limits.  "You need to get over it eventually Y/n."

Those were the last words said for the remainder of the ride, you didn't want to argue with your cousin before he has one of the biggest races of his life. He knew why you were antsy with the going beyond a certain speed limit. He knew. Of course, he knew. The crash. The speed. The helplessness you felt back then. You gritted your teeth, willing yourself not to dwell on it, not to bring it up again.

You finally pull into the track, and your eyes widen in awe. It's like you were stepping onto the movie set of Fast and Furious. The area is packed with custom cars, their paint jobs gleaming under the glow of neon lights and street lamps, unique to fit the personality of each driver. Engines roar and rev, filling the air with a pulse that matches the energy of the crowd. People are everywhere—leaning against cars, laughing, shouting over the music blasting from speakers.

The race course itself stretches down a wide, abandoned road, littered with warehouses and graffiti-covered walls. Smoke drifts in the air from burning rubber, and the smell of gasoline is thick. You can feel the intensity of the competition buzzing in the air. This wasn't just a race—it was a spectacle, alive with adrenaline and danger.

Anton slowly turns into beneath a large abandoned overpass that you've often heard was a hotspot for racers and ragers. You pan your eyes across the windshield and immediately spot the rival race crews: a sea of black jackets to the right and a wall of red to the left, each group eyeing each other with the tension only moments from snapping.

You were so caught up in the moment you didn't even notice Anton turn the volume up as he played I Don't Fuck with You by Big Sean while rolling past the Viper's crew. Typical Anton—always stirring the pot. The Vipers glared but didn't act, clearly aware of who you were. You both look at each other and laugh as you join the rest of your crew a bit further into the underpass.

As your cousin parks the car he grabs something from the back seat and tosses it onto your lap—a black leather jacket.

You stared at it for a moment.  The design was unmistakable. A large, detailed skull with flames rising behind it, symbolizing both danger and speed. The club's name, Sinners, arched above the skull in bold gothic, tattoo-style font. The club your father founded. The legacy you never wanted.

Your chest tightened as you ran your fingers over the smooth leather. Putting it on would be more than just an outfit choice—it would be an open declaration of association. Your mom would kill you if she ever found out.

Sensing your hesitation, Anton laughed. "Relax, I can see the steam coming out of your head from here. You don't have to wear it, alright? Just throw it over your shoulder or something. People need to know who you're with, that's all."

With that, you both stepped out of the car, and the cheers erupted. They were loud, wild, and unmistakably for Anton—he was their leader. But as the energy surged through the crowd, you couldn't help but wonder if a few of those cheers were meant for you. After all, it was your first time showing up to a race.

As you slipped into the crowd, a few familiar faces greeted you with nods and casual grins, clearly surprised to see you here.  You exchanged small talk with some of the members, their conversations a mix of race gossip, bets, and tales of past victories. The atmosphere was charged with excitement, but as the minutes ticked by, you felt the need to break away, the noise and energy overwhelming you.

Stepping out from the cluster of people, you wandered toward the edge of the underpass, taking in the scene.  The place was massive—graffiti-streaked pillars towering above, just like the one you were leaning against.

You took this moment to observe the Vipers. You've always had the displeasure of seeing the odd one or two while you were out doing your runs, but this is the first time you've seen the entire crew together. Your eyes land on a certain member. Percy. The only one that had a leader patch on the right sleeve of his jacket, an absurd attempt to assert dominance. You laugh at how lame this guy is. Anton exudes leader, he didn't need a patch on his sleeve reminding everyone he is one.

As you continue making your observations about the Vipers, from the corner of your eye, you noticed movement—someone else seeking the same kind of quiet as you. You glanced over, and there she was, leaning against the opposite side of the same pillar as you. The roar of engines and the blaring music made it easy to miss each other until now.

She was alone, her red jacket slung casually over her arm, a cigarette between her fingers. The contrast of her dark hair against the dim lighting made her stand out even more, and for a moment, she hadn't noticed you.

You tried not to stare, but there was something magnetic about her presence—like the calm before a storm. She flicked her eyes in your direction and froze, her gaze locking onto yours as if she wasn't expecting company either.

She glanced up at the black jacket draped over your shoulder, then at her own red one, casually slung over her arm. With a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk, she broke the silence.

"Guess neither of us is feeling the uniform tonight, huh?" she said, flicking ash from her cigarette, her voice low and surprisingly soft.

Of course her voice had to be the sexiest thing you've ever heard. You remained silent, not because you wanted to, but you didn't know how to respond. This is the first time you've ever spoken to a Viper—a hot Viper at that. You didn't know how to interact with a pretty girl, let alone someone who should be your sworn rival.

"Didn't think anyone else would find this spot," she sighs, not sure if she was saying it to you or outloud to herself.

You pushed off the pillar slightly, offering a small shrug. "Needed a breather."

She smirked, exhaling smoke slowly. "Yeah? Thought you Sinners thrived on chaos."

You glanced at the jacket hanging over your shoulder, then back at her. "Guess I'm not like the others." You weren't going to explain to a stranger that you technically aren't a Sinner but you also are.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Clearly." There was a pause, then she gave you a once-over, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "So, what's a Sinner doing hiding out here, away from the action?"

You crossed your arms, feeling the pull of the conversation. "Could ask you the same thing. Vipers don't usually stray from their pack."

She let out a soft laugh, the sound almost lost in the night air. "Maybe I needed a break from all the posturing. You know how it is."

Posturing. What an interesting way to put it you thought to yourself. She wasn't wrong,  but it was an oddly honest thing to bring up barely thirty seconds into the conversation. As intrigued as you are, you're also cautious.

You glanced her over in return, taking in her outfit—black combat boots, short black shorts, and a plain white tee, almost identical to the one you were wearing. It was shocking to see a girl from Summer Valley dressed so simply. But the simplicity suited her. She didn't need to be extravagant to stand out, if it wasn't for the jacket on her arm, you would've totally mistaken her for a flag girl, the ones who countdown the race. You've always heard that they're the most beautiful girls on the track, but clearly it wasn't the case tonight.

Your eyes met again, and something unspoken hung in the air between you. Two people from rival crews, both stepping away from the world that defined them.

She held your gaze. You didn't know what it was behind those intense brown eyes. Hatred, curiosity, attraction, a cry for help? You couldn't tell, but you also didn't want to define it. Defining it may mean having to look away. And you didn't want that.  Maybe she didn't either, you doubt she would force herself to stay here with you if she didn't want to.

The universe however, had other plans. The voice of one of the flag girls crackled through the megaphone, cutting through the tension. "The big day is finally here!" The rest of her corny speech faded into the background as your focus remained on the girl in front of you.  She tore her eyes from yours, sighed, and glanced back at her club.

"I have to go.  See you around, Greaser."

"Greaser?" you echoed, raising a brow.

She smirked, giving you a slow, deliberate once-over before turning away.

As much as you wanted to watch her walk away, curiosity tugged at you, pulling your gaze down.  You glanced at yourself and chuckled softly—faded blue jeans, white tee, and a black leather jacket.  Yeah, you did kind of look like a greaser tonight.

But then you saw it.  A grease stain on your shirt.  You chuckled softly. So that's why.

You decided it was time to head back to your group. You return a bit more upbeat than when you'd left. As you approached, you noticed Anton climbing into the car you'd been working on earlier with the crew gathered around, wishing him luck before the race. That's when he spotted you at the edge of the crowd and waved you over. The group parted, and soon you were standing face to face with Anton.

"You look happy. Having fun?" he shouted over the roar of his engine and Percy's nearby.

"It's been pretty cool," you replied with a shrug, nodding along—though it wasn't the race itself you were enjoying, but who it had brought here.

Anton hummed in approval before dapping you up and pulling you into a quick hug. "I'll see you in a bit," he grinned, hyping up his team one last time before sliding into the driver's seat, Mason settling into the passenger side.

As Anton shut his door, your eyes drifted to the car next to his. You watched Percy with his crew, their energy almost a mirror of your own. But then you saw something that left you utterly confused.

The mystery girl. She was on her tiptoes, arms wrapped around Percy's neck in a hug that felt way too intimate for your liking.

Is she his girl?  Disgusting. More thoughts crept in, but you quickly shut it down. She was a Viper, and you'd only talked to her for ten minutes. You didn't get to feel some type of way about it. She was just...intriguing. Nothing more.

You shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts. Focus on the race, focus on Anton. You told yourself.

You take a step back and settle in a spot between Madison and Hunter as the flag girls strutted to the front of the starting line, their boots clicking against the asphalt. One girl raised a checkered flag high, her red lips curled into a seductive smile as she glanced at both drivers. The other girl held the megaphone to her lips.

"Racers, are you ready?!" Her voice echoed across the lot, the engines revving in response.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!" Time seemed to slow. The crowd held its breath, and for a split second all that existed was the hum of engines, the gleam of metal, and the flashing lights.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, the flag girl swung the checkered flag down, and the cars exploded off the line.

Anton's car launched forward, while Percy's stayed right on his tail, neck and neck. The crowd erupted into cheers, the sheer speed of the cars leaving only a blur of metal behind them as they tore down the street.

With the cars gone you had nothing left to distract you from your thoughts. What were you genuinely doing here, you ask yourself.

Your eyes wandered back to the spot where you had last seen her. That girl—the one who had slipped into your mind with just a few words and a lingering look. Now, with Percy racing down the track, she stood with another Viper. This one was taller, with short hair, and they were both laughing, completely at ease with each other.

You laugh in disbelief shaking your head. This didn't seem like posturing to you, she seemed like she had fit right in. But again you catch yourself thinking, why were you even upset? She never said she hated her crew, she never said anything that implied she was like you, and now you wonder if you interpreted your interaction with her to something you wanted it to be rather than what it actually was.

The thought crept in, unwelcome. Maybe you were projecting your own loneliness, your desire to feel seen, onto someone who didn't even feel the same way. Someone who was just passing time in a moment. She was a Viper, fully a part of this world, while you were just an outsider passing through.

You turned to Madison and Hunter. "I'm gonna grab a drink. You guys want anything?"

They shook their heads, and you made your way to one of the cars stocked with drinks in the trunk. You opted for a soda rather than a beer.

You leaned against the car, slowly sipping your soda and trying to clear your head. The night had taken a strange turn—what started as excitement was now muddy with emotions you weren't sure how to handle. The hum of conversation and the occasional laughter from nearby crews were the only sounds cutting through the noise in your mind.

Then, suddenly, the atmosphere shifted.

It was subtle at first, a ripple of unease passing through the crowd. You heard hushed whispers and saw people glancing toward the far end of the lot. Then, like a wave crashing down, the sound of sirens pierced the night.

"Cops!" someone yelled, and the panic spread like wildfire.

People scrambled in every direction, grabbing their things and sprinting for their cars. Engines roared to life, and tires screeched as racers and spectators alike tried to escape before the police descended on the scene.

You tossed your soda to the ground, adrenaline surging through you as you looked around for Madison and Hunter, but they were already sprinting towards the opposite direction with the rest of the crew. You turned to follow, but something made you stop.

She wasn't moving.

In the chaos, you spotted her standing in the middle of the lot, frozen, her eyes wide but not making any attempt to run.  She wasn't panicked—she looked more...indifferent, like the flashing red and blue lights didn't mean anything to her.

Without thinking, you darted towards her. Your heart pounded in your chest as you weaved through the fleeing crowd, the sound of sirens growing louder by the second. When you reached her, you didn't hesitate—you grabbed her arm and pulled her.

"Come on!" you shouted over the noise, but she barely reacted, her feet stumbling as you dragged her away from the open lot.

You didn't stop until you reached the mouth of a narrow alleyway between two buildings. You pulled her into the shadows, pressing your back against the wall as you caught your breath. She was in front of you, calm in a way that made no sense considering the chaos unfolding behind you.

She gazed at you, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she was catching her breath. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

You shot her a look, exasperated. "You're welcome."

The distant sound of police radios crackled through the air as you both stood in silence, waiting for the madness to pass.

"You really should be more careful," you said, trying to break the silence. "It's not safe out there, especially with the cops around."

She shrugged, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I guess I'm just used to it. But I appreciate the concern."

You couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity. "So, what do you usually do in moments like this? Just... stand around?"

Her laughter was light, almost melodic. "Well, not exactly. Usually, I'd just blend in and keep my head down. But you've thrown a bit of a wrench in that plan."

"Is that a bad thing?" you asked, intrigued.

"Not necessarily," she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it's definitely unexpected."

You took a step closer, feeling the distance between you narrow. "And here I thought I was just being a good Samaritan."

"Good Samaritan, huh?" She raised an eyebrow, playful yet cautious. "Seems like you might be getting in over your head, then."

"Maybe I like the thrill," you shot back, trying to keep the mood light. But beneath the banter, you both knew the stakes were higher than either of you wanted to admit.

"Well, be careful what you wish for," she said softly, her expression shifting momentarily to something more serious. "Not everything is as exciting as it seems."

You paused, trying to decipher her words. There was a depth to her that hinted at more than she was letting on. But before you could ask, she turned her gaze back to the alley,

Your phone suddenly dinged, breaking the tension. You glanced at it and saw a message from Mason.

"Seems like the cops cut the race short. Your crew lives to see another day."

You chuckled, but she didn't respond, just watching you with her doe eyes. You thought about what it would be like to give in.

But just then, the light caught her wrist, glinting off the expensive bracelet she wore.  The sight of it sent a jolt through you—a stark reminder that she was from Summer Valley, a Viper, and probably a handful you couldn't handle.

The realization hit hard, and you felt a rush of uncertainty. She was part of a world you didn't want to dive into, no matter how intriguing she might be.

You decide to walk off, out of the alley.

"Hey! Where are you going?" she called out, jogging to catch up.

"Home. The cops seem to be gone," you replied, keeping your tone light, words short.

The brown-eyed girl looked confused, she thought you were building a connection. Now you were suddenly dismissive, leaving without a word, and you could see her trying to process it.

"...Wait, um..." she stammered, hesitating as if searching for the right words.

You turned back, sensing the moment hanging between you.  You had a feeling you knew what she was going to say, and a knot formed in your stomach.

You took a step back, breaking the spell. "I really should go," you said, your voice firm, not giving her a chance to speak. You turned away, leaving her standing there, a mixture of confusion and disappointment on her face.

With that, you turned and walked deeper into the night. You could feel her watching you, but you kept moving, the weight of your decision heavy in your chest. But telling her your name would mean chaos.

As you navigated the alley, Anton's words echoed in your mind. "Maybe this isn't your thing, and that's fine. But you've got to find what is. What's your purpose, your drive? What makes your heart race? What's worth risking everything for?"

You were sure it wasn't her. As much as you felt a connection, you couldn't get further involved with the race world. She was just a pretty girl you met, and seemed to have some semblance of intellectuality. You know how this ends and its not pretty. You had responsibilities waiting at home—your mom counting on you, the weight of family expectations pressing down like a heavy fog.  You had to figure things out on your own, even if it meant leaving her behind.

You can't just be the calculated person that you are and then immediately start taking risks because your cousin told you to. This was your nature. Careful.

Still, a part of you wondered if the real risk was not in chasing the girl but in denying yourself the chance to discover what could truly make your heart race.

next chapter

[rentheebee]

Nighttime dancers

summary: you and Jeremy dance to his records

Note:might be hella ooc so sorry. Also my first x reader so yeeeeeaaaaah.(not much talking happens I suck at dialogue)

Being a ghost sucked. 

Being a ghost not able to leave beyond your yard sucked worse. Plus no one could see him beyond his low-key crappy parents. 

No one even wanted the damn house. No one moved in. Barely anyone even checked it out. no one he could get to give themselves up so he could live again.

Until someone did.

~

A family a father, a mother, and a teen. Seemed quaint enough,new to the area obviously.

The kid took his room.

Looking around you can't help but find all the posters, records, and knick knacks interesting. 

Whoever this guy was he seemed pretty cool. Besides the whole killing his parents thing... obviously.

You started to get settled bringing in your clothes, knick knacks, posters, and other items.

You felt a chill like eyes were watching. 

You turned,

Turned,

Turned,

Turned,

There was nothing. You had circled around so everything was seen. Yet no one was there.

'creepy' you thought, but whatever it was a dead boys room of course it's not going to feel right.

~

Jeremy watched. Yes he wanted people around even just to cure the boredom of having little to no one to entertain him.

Dad just watched tv.

Mom just baked.

He sat and listened to records. What else would he do? He didn't really have anything else to do.

Though it felt weird having a stranger looking at his stuff and rooting through to see what to get rid of.

Did he want them out?

Did he want them here?

He decided to wait before showing himself. See what they were like. If he liked them.

~

Weeks passed.

You got used to the new place. Met a few people. 

You kept the room relatively the same with the addition of your stuff

Jeremy, yet to show himself, decided he liked you. Or at least slightly.

~

At this point it's been almost a year. Jeremy had already shown himself. Revealed he's a ghost. (Tried to get you to do all the things that would bring him back to life)

You had ended up in a strange relationship. By that I mean you were dating but it was complicated because he was dead.

It was late. Unable to sleep you found yourself shuffling over to his records. You flip through and choose one.

Music fills the room and you start sleepily swaying.

Jeremy comes into the room and spends a few minutes just watching with a love struck and slightly laughing face.

When you noticed you stopped and walked over. "C'mon and dance with me." You mumble sleepily. Pulling him by his hand you sway you both. 

This continues until you both where dancing around the room, occasionally hopping and twirling. God you must look like idiots.

But you both couldn't stop laughing and smiling.

~

You both collapsed him on the desk chair and you on your bed. All the dancing had made you dizzy and tired.

Chuckling Jeremy got up and played next to you.

You start to fall asleep as he pulls you into a firm hug and as the record stops. 

Maybe living with a ghost teen wasn't so bad after all.

[blackenedsnow]

Heyy, if you’re comfortable doing so could I please get some Beetlejuice x fem!reader who’s a single mom? Just pretty much him being soft and comforting letting her know she’s doing a good job etc? Thank you in advance 💕💕💕 can be a proper fic or headcanons I’ll let you decide xx

beyond it

WARNING: References to the stress of single motherhood

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Single Mother! Reader

NOTE: I absolutely loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much for the request 💕💕

SUMMARY: Beetlejuice surprises you by being a source of comfort, helping you see that you’re doing better than you give yourself credit for.

It was late—too late for you to still be up. But as a single mom, you didn’t have the luxury of falling into bed as soon as the day ended. No, there were dishes to clean, laundry to fold, and tomorrow to worry about. And of course, your child had woken up twice already, needing reassurance from a nightmare.

You were running on fumes, slumped on the couch, your face buried in your hands. It felt like all you ever did was work. Just when you thought you could finally close your eyes and sleep, your thoughts picked up again—worrying about what needed to be done tomorrow, whether you were doing enough, whether your child was okay.

“Hey, dollface, rough night?”

This fucking guy.

That voice—raspy, familiar—cut through the fog of exhaustion like nails on a chalkboard. Beetlejuice. You didn’t bother looking up. He was probably lounging in his usual spot, perched on the armrest of your couch with a stupid grin plastered on his face.

"Go away, BJ," you muttered half-heartedly. "Not tonight."

The ghoul groaned dramatically. "Aw, come on! And here I thought we were past the whole 'piss off, Beej' stage of our relationship." You felt a cold presence next to you, then his hand—decaying yet surprisingly gentle—lightly brushed your shoulder. "I mean, after all the times I’ve stuck around, don’t I get any appreciation?"

You exhaled sharply, finally lifting your head. "Appreciation? For what, exactly?"

"For being a goddamn delight, babes!" Beetlejuice beamed, leaning back against the couch and spreading his arms wide. "For hanging around when no one else does. Gotta say, not a lot of folks could handle a single mom with your level of stress."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the tiny smile tugging at your lips. "If by 'hanging around,' you mean constantly being a nuisance, then yeah, sure."

Beetlejuice chuckled, his voice rough yet oddly soothing. His eyes, usually wild and manic, softened just a bit as they focused on you. “Ah, you love it. Don’t lie, babe.”

You shook your head, sinking deeper into the couch. "I’m just… tired, Beej. I'm really tired."

For once, he didn’t launch into another sarcastic quip. Instead, Beetlejuice shifted closer, his body language relaxed but attentive. “Yeah, I know. I can see it. You’ve been runnin' yourself ragged for, what, weeks? Months?”

Your eyes welled up, but you quickly blinked the tears away. “I just… I feel like I’m not doing enough. There’s always something I’m missing, something I should be doing better.”

Beetlejuice’s hand rested fully on your shoulder now, his touch surprisingly solid. "Oh, come on, you're killing it out here, babe. You think your kid’s got it bad? They've got you. And lemme tell ya, you’re doing a hell of a job. Better than most."

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Really? You think so?"

“Are you kidding? Babe, I see it. I see you juggling work, taking care of the kid, making sure they're happy. And yeah, it’s messy and chaotic, but guess what? They're fine. They're happy, ‘cause you’re busting your ass for 'em.” He leaned in a little closer, his expression for once free of mischief. “You’re doin' more than enough."

His words hit you hard, in a way you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know why, but hearing it from Beetlejuice—someone who you never thought would care about anything—meant something. It eased the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest all day.

“I just don’t want to mess them up,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “They deserve better than… than this.”

"Whoa, whoa, slow down there, sweetheart." Beetlejuice’s voice softened. He slipped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “They've got you, and that’s more than enough. You’re not perfect—who the hell is?—but you're trying. And that's what matters. Trust me, when they grow up, they're gonna see that.”

You allowed yourself to lean into him, resting your head against his chest. His suit smelled like a mix of dirt and decay, but there was something oddly comforting about the way he held you, like he was actually trying to be there for you, to support you in his own weird way.

“Hey, tell you what,” he said, his voice low. “Next time you feel like crap, I’ll stick around. We’ll cause some shit together, huh? Might help take the edge off.”

You chuckled softly, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

Beetlejuice grinned, but it wasn’t the mischievous, cocky smirk you were used to. It was softer, almost tender. “You’re doin' good, doll. Don’t let anyone—including yourself—tell you otherwise.”

You looked up at him, and for the first time since he’d shown up in your life, you realized how much you appreciated him. Not just as the obnoxious ghost who wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone, but as someone who—despite his crude humor and questionable ethics—actually cared. Maybe not in the typical way, but in a way that mattered.

"Thanks, Beej," you whispered, closing your eyes as you let the exhaustion finally catch up to you. "I mean it."

Beetlejuice stayed quiet for a moment, just holding you close. "Anytime, babe. Anytime."

[betelgeuses-wife]

Beetlejuice x fem reader [slight hurt/then comfort fix]

Reader is an adult with a job, living in the beetlejuice house. Fine for 16+ but bear in mind the POV of character for this fic.

-----

Notes: written for fem reader. Fem pet names.

Type: oneshot

Genre: hurt/comfort

Length: short/medium? Idk word count

Warnings: not sure if any are needed. Some suggestive comments on Bee's part.

Barely proofread.

Do not steal my work or copy and post anywhere else.

-------

The clock was still chiming as you walked in the door to the house, the bird popped in and out of the clock but the sequence had ended a moment later as you ditched your shoes and bag by the door for a later, more tired you that would remember it right before bed. The house was depressingly quiet, not like you had expected any different. It was just you after all. Well...you and one annoying ghost.

The aged wallpaper seemed greyer than usual and it only provoked your want to rip it off and put up a new pattern. You loved the house and how it was originally decorated but it was in need of some T.L.C. which was something you had the money for but not the time. Your frame slouched as you shuffled over to the couch and sat down on the edge, you knew why it was quiet.

After an argument yesterday about Bee always being around and in your space, especially when you had friends round or the odd date, you had selfishly made him disappear. You had been so frustrated that you said his name three times just to get him off your back but now you felt guilty. It was something that had plagued your mind all day. Nagging at you. You took a breath and rubbed your face, sighing before you spoke quietly to yourself.

"I'm such an ass. He was an ass first. But...still."

You didn't know if you should summon him, to do so would only to be for your own gain. To get some form of comfort. Because you had no one else. Not right now. You would be selfish to. You knew that. So you sat there alone, flicking the TV on though you barely watched it. You couldn't help but think about what Bee had told you over the last couple of years. How he married and it didn't work out. How he helped the couple who lived here before and was let down. And he had helped you. Albeit for a deal. But you had kept up your end of the deal until yesterday. And even still, without asking or without expecting anything he had helped you out with much more than you deserved. He kept an eye on you. Made sure you were taken care of when you got home even though he would act like he wasn't doing it for you and it was just out of boredom.

And you had sent him away. All because, what? You didn't like that he called out the new friends you made who said things they shouldn't have? Because the dates you brought home did something that made you uncomfortable? Did you really get annoyed with him because he looked out for you and you were too stubborn to realise it?

How could you summon him for your own comfort after that? You couldn't. It would be an asshole move. You knew that. So you sat in your own pathetic guilt for the evening. You heated up a meal you had made and frozen earlier in the week, it was a lousy meal without your usual dining experience. The reruns of shows didn't seem as funny as they usually did either. You sighed heavily and tried to power through your dinner but suddenly you didn't feel hungry anymore. The day was was feeling heavier by the minute and you contemplated just having a shower and going to bed.

You forced yourself from your spot on the couch and threw the rest of your meal away before placing your dirty dishes in the sink. You'd do that later. Tomorrow. You didn't really have the energy to care in that moment.

You convinced yourself that maybe getting an early night would be best. Then you'd have a longer weekend if you didn't sleep in. You were lying to yourself that you'd get a good night's sleep. You put your shoes away on the rack and lazily placed your bags up against the wall. It was good enough to not be a trip hazard later at least. It felt like you were dragging your body up the stairs but your mind was elsewhere, the pesky thoughts of how lonely it must be for Bee. He was probably up in the tiny model graveyard. That's where he had been before.

Sure, Bee had said some nasty things too yesterday. A slur of names. Theoretical accusations too. But you had still sent him back to where ever he had been before. You could've just gone to bed or the bathroom. Out of respect he kept out of those places unless, for whatever reason, you called for him while there. You had other options and you still picked to say his name three times. What a dick move.

Those thoughts swam in circles in your mind as you wandered into your bedroom, your dazed mind barely able to figure out your next move. You showered and pulled on your worn shirt that had transitioned from outerwear to comfy bed top which was paired with a pair of shorts from a set but you had lost the shirt to it years ago. A strange combination that was quite normal for you now.

You climbed into bed, the sheets were fresh as you had fallen asleep on the couch yesterday, a strangely nice surprise that you welcomed. Freshly clean, comfy clothes, you should've felt content and ready for sleep and yet you stared out the window numbly. You laid there, waiting for sleep set in, waiting for your eyes to grow tired but it seemed your mind was far too determined for that. You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment.

"Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice." And you waited.

And waited some more.

But there was just silence.

You opened your eyes and still the room was empty. Until you looked over at the door frame where the pale man in a striped suit was leaning. His eyes on his hands as he picked at his nails before crossing him arms. He looked less than pleased.

"Well, thank ya for lettin' me out, toots. Nice t'know ya need me." His words were anything but sweet this time. The sarcastic poison dripped from his words. The tone just made you sink back into bed without a retort unlike you usually would.

"I'm sorry I sent you away. I shouldn't of. You can have free reign of the house. I'm getting an early night anyway..." Your voice was quiet. Defeated. Bee seemed to notice and instead of his usual mocking manner, he moved around to the empty side of the bed and sat down.

"Doll, ya really think bein' put in time out for a day is gunna do much t'me? I'm a ghost! A day's nothin'." You watched as he exclaimed and moved to get comfortable on the bed; sat up against the pillows and the headboard, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"I don't know...I promised I wouldn't. I made a deal and I broke it. Like the people here did before...I thought you'd hate me." You hated the whole 'woe is me' confession but it still needed to be said.

You heard a snort and glanced up to see Bee looking out the window before shifting his eyes onto you.

"Hate ya? C'mon. Ya think I could hate ya for that? Annoyed? Sure. Ready t'make the rest of ya life a livin' hell? Definitely. But it'd take more than that t'make me hate you, sweetcheeks"

You sighed and shifted under the blankets, you felt a little relieved but still also felt bad for what you did.

"Do you think..." Your words trailed off.

"Do I think what, Toots?"

"Do you think you could stay here tonight? Just until I fall asleep anyway..."

"Oh? You're invitin' me to sleep with ya?" You watched as his annoying smirk grew.

"Bee. Fine. Get out. I'll sleep by myself." You stated as you turned away from the man. Your back now facing him.

"Hey- hey- hey-! I'll behave. I promise! I'll just lay 'ere. Like a statue! See!" You heard his voice desperately pipe up.

"Put some pyjamas on then. No shoes on the bed." You mumbled as you rolled back over onto your other side, watching as Beetlejuice got up and change into striped pyjamas with a cloud of smoke. He did a little show of jazz hands for added affect.

"Ta-da-! How'd I look? Sleek? Sexy? Seducing?" His words drawn out while he posed for each word.

"Just get in the damn bed, Bee. Before I change my mind." Rolling your eyes at the theatrics.

You watched as he scrambled to get under the covers and shifted closer to you. And closer still until you stopped him.

"Don't push your luck, Juice." Your words earned a groan. You closed your eyes and tried to settle, laying in silence for a while. You knew he was just pretending to sleep so you'd feel comfortable. You peeked up and scooted closer until you were nearly against his chest. Perhaps this was too close. You tried to back away but you found Bee's arm over your waist.

"Don't try t'run away now, Sweets." His voice was low and gravelly but he still spoke in a softer voice than usual.

You huffed a little but didn't move away again. You didn't speak for a moment. You just laid silently, eyes on Bee's chest though you were lost in thought.

"Work got the better of ya today"

"I never said that."

"Ya don't have'ta"

"Great. Glad to know you can tell I hate my job."

"I can tell ya tired, Dollface. Its'all I meant"

His words were strangely comforting. He was trying at least.

"Stop tryna be s'tough and lemme help ya"

He was right. Usually after a bad day you'd cling to him and watch some stupid show. But now you were in bed. A place he wasn't ever allowed before. This felt...different.

You sighed and snuggled up to him like you usually would on the couch, you felt his arms tighten around you before one moved up to the back of your head, his fingers gently running through your hair.

"I'll be 'ere, Doll. I ain't got anywhere else t'go anyway. Or maybe we could get things heated up if ya cold-"

"Beetlejuice."

"Alright- just layin' here. Like a statue."

You soon started to drift off to his familiar touch. His arm holding you close and his fingers massaging your scalp, it lulled you into a deep sleep. It had you questioning whether you should invite Bee to bed more often.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Halloween Cookies - Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Title: Halloween Cookies

Beetlejuice (Musical) X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Lydia (Mentioned), Laria (OC), Bryan (OC), Mabel (OC) (Mentioned), Michael (OC) (Mentioned), Ruby Rose (OC), and random partygoers (Mentioned)

WC: 5,917

Warnings: Musical Beetlejuice, and Beetlejuice in general, teasing, banter, flirting, suggestive, italics, movie references, cursing, mentions of death, very brief mention of blood, nicknames, Reader wears a dress, mood ring hair, mini angst, and fluff

"When are you gonna start paying attention to me..?" Beetlejuice trailed off with a whine, watching as you rolled out some cookie dough on the floury counter. "Babe!" He continued when you didn't even look up at his outburst. 

"I am trying to make cookies, Beej," You spoke, voice slightly strained from adding pressure to the rolling pin. "You know the Halloween party is tonight. I need to get these done." You wiped your face with the back of your hand, smearing flour on your cheek. "I've been putting these off for far too long."

He sighed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed across his chest as he looked at the many Halloween-themed cookie cutters on the counter beside him. "Yeah, well, this wasn't exactly what I meant by spending time together, babes." The demon huffed before speaking again, eyes narrowing as he focused on the side of your face, "And I don't understand why I can't come with you to this party." He continued to pout, acting like a toddler who was told they couldn't have candy.

You returned his gaze, giving him a 'don't start crap now' look. "Beetlejuice..." You lightly threatened, making the demon huff again, turned to look away from you, and you did the same, returning to your cookies. "First off, we spent all day cuddling and having a ‘Friday The 13th’ marathon, among other things...” You gave him a glance, “Secondly, I know you want to have fun, especially tonight, it being Halloween and all…" You pushed away from the counter, walking around Beetlejuice to grab a handful of cookies cutters; but, before you moved back to the rolled-out dough, you stood before you ghoulish boyfriend, "And you know I love you, and trust you," Beetlejuice looked at you, his pout still upon his face, his green eyes softening.

"But..." He trailed off, knowing that there was indeed a 'but'. 

"But, I know you, Beej, I know that if you come with me... You'll cause some- uh, maybe not-so welcomed chaos, and possibly scare my friends to death." 

His green eyes stared at you before he looked away suddenly, "You don't trust me." He stated and you shook your head.

"Beej, I do. But, I know you. You are BJ after all. I know causing chaos is kind of your thing." Cutting out the last cookie from the dough, you sighed, "I would love to bring you with me. My friends have been asking about you. My mysterious, secret boyfriend." You looked over at him, seeing that he was still turned away, his spiky hair turning a shade of purple-ish red. You bit your lip, seeing how much this was upsetting him.  

Thinking about it, yeah, there was a pretty high chance that if you brought Beetlejuice to the party with you, he'd do something, but there was also a chance that he wouldn't do anything... Too chaotic. But that was just Beetlejuice, that was what he liked to do. It made him happy to see the fear in people's eyes, their shock, the reaction to his horrific pranks. He liked the attention.

But, if you left him at home, he'd grow bored pretty quickly. He was almost like a cat in a way sometimes, wanting attention or knocking random things off counters… And maybe he wouldn't even heed your words and just show up, that was a whole other thing. Or he'd leave and cause chaos around town. Maybe even scare a few, poor trick-or-treaters. You hated the idea of leaving him all alone. Ever since the moment you met the ghoul, he'd been stuck to you like glue. And, honestly, you'd been stuck on him too. But, again, you felt terrible. You hated seeing your demon upset.

Wiping your hands on a dish rag, ridding the flour from them, you moved in front of him. Quickly, he moved his gaze to the ground, his chin pressing into his chest, a pout still on his lips. Raising your hand, you gently cupped his bearded cheek, brushing your fingers through the coarse hairs as you bent down to move into his line of sight that had been aimed at the kitchen floor. His eyes reluctantly met yours, having no place else to look - unless he closed his eyes - you gave him an apologetic smile. 

"Beetlebaby," You cooed, the nickname rolling off your tongue, one that usually made the demon melt into a puddle of green goo; sometimes even literally. You noticed the corner of his lips twitch, "I'm sorry," You went on, "You can come with me to the party tonight if you want to." 

The demon raised an eyebrow, lifting his head, as did you, returning to your full heights. "Really?" He was skeptical, "I can go?" The more he spoke, the more you could see the excitement reappear in his eyes. 

"Yeah," You nodded, your thumb brushing along his bearded cheek, "Just as long as you don't, you know, cause too much trouble. Like, please don’t force people to dance against their will or make your eyes cry blood, okay?"

"Oh, baby!" He reached out to you, cupping your cheeks with his cold hands and landing a somewhat slobbery kiss to your lips, before pulling you into a giant bear hug; jumping up and down with you in his arms. "When is the party? What are you wearing? We can match! I can meet your friends! They'll be so jealous when they see the two of us!" 

All the while, during his rant and hug, you couldn't help but chuckle fondly, though slightly strained as he let go of his hug. "Actually, I had this idea for a costume, but since you're coming with me..." You trailed off, narrowing your eyes at him playfully. "Why don't you choose for us? Just nothing too… Uh, too risque." 

Letting out his signature - almost maniacal - laugh, he snapped his fingers; making you worry slightly. Instantly, a swirling cloud of green smoke surrounded you in a 'poof' and as it faded away, you found yourself dressed in your new Halloween costume.

The dress was a floor-length gown of deep black silk that fit closely to your figure. It then flared out at your knees, it even featured a low - but not too low - neckline; in a 'v' shape, and the sleeves ended just above your wrists. The fabric draped gracefully, creating a smooth, uninterrupted line from neckline to hem. 

Just looking down at yourself, you knew exactly what, or who, you were dressed as. The style of the dress was a mix between Morticia Addams’ dress from the 'Addams Family' movies and the old, black and white TV show. It was perfect. 

Looking up from admiring yourself, you noticed that Beetlejuice had also changed. Instead of his tattered black and white suit, he traded it for a classic suit with dark pinstripes - a perfect tailored fit. He even included the matching vest, a white dress shirt, and a bow tie. His outfit was completed with a pocket watch and black and white wingtip shoes.

His costume wasn’t even tattered; another surprise.

He looked amazing, and different in an incredibly good way. He looked so handsome and dapper. As you admired him, Beetlejuice tried to slick his hair back like Gomez Asdams’, licking up the palm of his hand and sliding back his - back to green - hair, only for it to almost cartoonishly pop right back up to its original state. 

Letting out a small giggle at his antics, he looked up, his green eyes darkening as he 'subtly' eyed you up and down; taking his time ogling you. "Damn, baby!" He exclaimed, wiggling his fingers as he reached out for you, grabbing your waist, "You might be hotter than Hell itself. Rawr.” He grinned, his pointy teeth showing.

You bit your lip as a few giggles erupted out of you at his words, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks as you also tried to ignore that he just said ‘rawr’ out loud. "Thank you, Beej. You look great too. You even cleaned up nice too."

“Hey! How very rude of you. I did this all for you.” He pouted with faux sadness, before continuing, “Aside from the slander,” The grin on his face quickly returned, "I know how much you love 'The Addams Family.' The moment I watched it with you, I knew you'd look killer in that dress." His hands on your waist wandering down to your hips. “And I was right~” He sing-songed, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “If I wasn’t already dead, you would’ve killed me, baby.”

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh, feeling your heart run a mile a minute. You loved how he remembered your favorite things, interests, and hobbies. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you." You fawned, looking back at him, only for his grin to widen. 

"Oh," He began, his hands leaving you only for one of his hands to take one of yours. Leaning down slightly, he brought your hand to his smirking lips, keeping the intense eye contact. "I have a few ideas, cara mia." He murmured seductively as he began to pepper kisses upon your hand, all the while, you couldn't help but giggle; his beard tickling you. “You know, babe, we could always skip the party... Who needs all those other breathers when we could have our own private Halloween party right here?” He paused from kissing your arm, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that are way more fun than bobbing for apples and head-banging to Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’.” He added before returning to his Gomez-esque kisses up your arm and traveling onto your shoulder.

Feeling the familiar pull of his mischievous charm, you huffed, amused, “As tempting as that sounds, Beej,” You teased, “I’ve got a reputation to uphold. And I’m pretty sure skipping out on my friend’s party would raise a few eyebrows. Especially when I've told her I was coming.” Feeling his disappointed groan reverberate against your neck, you continued, "And, I've got to put these cookies in the oven," You muttered, your voice soft as he pulled you into his chest, his lips danced across your neck as you spoke; still trying to sway you, your hands wrapped around his waist. "The party is three hours away and I still need to bake and decorate them."

Pulling away reluctantly, you felt his fingers digging into the fabric of the dress, pulling you impossibly closer into his chest once more; your hands lifted, your fingers fiddling with the collar of his new suit. "Fine, I guess we can go, but first, Mr. Beebleboose wants some sugar."

You smirked, "Come and get it."

~~~

Closing the plastic green lid on the container full of your homemade Halloween cookies, you quickly slid the container further towards yourself once you caught sight of Beetlejuice's greedy, wiggling fingers creeping towards it in your peripheral. 

"No cookies until we're there, Beej. And please don't eat all the food at the party. You need to leave some for everyone else." You gave him a look before you headed to the door. He pouted, but said nothing as he floated close behind. “I just really hope someone - aside from you - eats my cookies this year.” You muttered, mostly to yourself, already 'poofed' in shoes - from when your boyfriend ‘poofed’ your dress on you - you grabbed your car keys from the small, black and white snake tray Beej made you, on the table near the front door. 

“Why wouldn’t those breathers eat your cookies?” Beetlejuice asked, only for you to shrug, grabbing your phone.

“Someone always brings a few boxes of those sugar cookies. You know, the ones that usually have the pink icing, and the sprinkles. Everyone loves them, and I do too, but I am not too sure that people are going to flock to my cookies if those are available.” You tried not to sound too disappointed, but you had a feeling that people weren’t going to eat your cookies, especially since there would be a lot of other snacks there, “It’s fine though. In the end, there will be more cookies for you when we get home.”

Narrowing his eyes slightly at your words, gears began to turn in his mind before he spoke, "You know I could just teleport us there," Beetlejuice spoke up, only for you to shake your head, jingling your keys on your finger. 

"Nope, I'm driving." You exited the house with him before locking the front door and heading to your car parked in the driveway. "Let me make you my passenger princess." 

"Teleportation is quicker." He muttered, and with a huff, his hair turning pink at his hairline from your teasing words. With another huff, he teleported himself into the passenger seat, making you roll your eyes, a smile on your face.

The ride to your friend's house wasn't too long of a drive - especially when your ghost with the most was screaming out the lyrics of every song that popped up on the radio. Your friend lived just outside of town, in a somewhat more populated area. When you pulled up to her house, you let out a sigh, seeing all the parked cars sitting on her front and side lawn, and seeing the colorful lights flickering in the windows.

"Alright, I'm gonna warn you." You began, turning to your ghoul of a boyfriend, "My friends all mean well, but they might ask you and us a lot of questions."

Beetlejuice let out a 'pfft,' "Not a problem, babes! Everyone will love me!” But before he could even teleport out, you stopped him, grabbing his hand.

"Beej, what am I supposed to call you? Not that I don't love your name, but for one, I can't say your name. I don't want to call you something that could, uh, send you away or something."

Beetlejuice blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard by your thoughtfulness. A brief flash of something softer crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with his usual smirk. “Aw, you thinkin’ about lil’ ol’ me, huh?” He tried to brush the soothingly warm feeling off. “Alright, alright. For the sake of blending in at this little shindig, how about you call me ‘Lawrence’.” He winked.

“‘Lawrence’? That was pretty quick. You already think about this or something?”

Beetlejuice shrugged, “Well, it was the name my mother gave me. So I thought it would work.” 

Your eyebrows raised, “Really? Then where did the B word come from?”

“It's my middle name.” 

You let out a chuckle, shaking your head fondly, “Well, I think ‘Lawrence’ works perfectly. And not to mention, I kind of love it.”

You noticed his green hair turning a bit pink again - he loved the way you said his name - he let out yet another maniacal laugh, teleporting himself out of the car, suddenly standing outside the driver's side door. Opening the door for you, he offered his hand out to you, his grin wide, "Cara mia,"

Taking his offered hand, you returned his grin, "Mon cher." 

Walking up to the front door, you felt a wave of excitement and nervousness wash over you as you rang the doorbell; your free hand tightening your hold on the cookie container pressed into your side. Though, with Beetlejuice's hand in yours, you weren't as nervous as you usually were when going to events and parties. You weren't the biggest party fan, but you loved Halloween and Halloween parties.

Letting out a breath, you felt Beetlejuice squeeze your hand gently, gaining your attention, "You got his, babes." He muttered, his words calming your heart slightly. “We'll knock ‘em dead.”

"Thanks, Beej… But, hopefully not literally." You murmured out a small chuckle, giving him a hopeful look to which he grinned just as the front door opened. 

"Oh, my gosh! You’re here!" You heard the host - your best friend, Laria - exclaim, and squeal. Your head snapped away from Beetlejuice, and your smile grew - not only at the sight of your friend, but because she was dressed as Elle Woods from ‘Legally Blonde’, in her iconic pink outfit. All she was missing was Bruiser. "And you actually brought your boyfriend!" She continued, before she turned her attention to Beetlejuice - well, 'Lawrence’ at the moment. "She's told me so much about you! Well, not a lot. Y/N's always been pretty secretive when it comes to relationships." She waved a hand in the air, before gesturing for the two of you to come inside. "Party has already started. Oh! And you brought your cookies! The snack table is by the kitchen, feel free to grab something to eat or drink!"

Entering, you could practically feel Beetlejuice buzzing with anticipation, his hand in yours was twitching. You knew that he was just itching to do something. His green eyes were flickering from one thing to the other; from DJ dressed as Mikey the Ninja Turtle - who happened to be Laria’s cousin - with the loud speakers playing Halloween-themed music.

The party lights were casting different colors on the small dance floor in the middle of the living room, where the many, many partygoers were talking, dancing, eating, and drinking. And lastly, his eyes landed on the table near the kitchen with all of the snacks; covering in cookies, chips, fruits, and even a cracker and veggie plate. Again, you could see how much he was holding himself back, his mind was probably overflowing with chaos-filled ideas.

Finding yourself in the living room, you spotted several familiar faces; Laria's older sister Mabel, who was dressed as Jack Skeleton from ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’. Then you spotted another familiar face; your other friend, Ruby Rose, who was currently engaged in conversation with two others you didn't recognise. You even saw Bryan, from your college days, who was drinking with Laria's boyfriend, Michael, who was dressed just in a Sonic The Hedgehog onesie. Other than that, there had to have been more than thirty people crammed into the small house that you were now standing in. You were just so glad that no one had decided to wear one of those giant inflatable dinosaur suits.

"So!" Laria began, speaking a bit loudly to be heard over the loud music, "Aren't you going to introduce your boyfriend to me?" Her tone was playful; all of your mutual friends had been dying - no pun intended - to meet your mysterious boyfriend ever since you told them you weren't single anymore. And out of all of them, Laria was the one that seemed the most interested? Excited? Yeah, she was excited.

"Oh, yes, Laria,.." You began, tugging Beetlejuice's hand gently, pulling him into your side a bit, gaining his attention, "This is my boyfriend, Lawrence. I finally convinced him to take a day off work to join me." You rambled out, almost slipping up, but it seemed Laria didn't even notice, and if she did, she didn't say anything. 

Her bright eyes widened, turning to Lawrence with a curious smile, "Really? Lawrence, it is nice to finally meet you. My name is Laria. Y/N and I have been friends ever since high school." She then continued, "What do you do for work? And on Halloween of all nights?”

As Beetlejuice began to open his mouth, you interrupted him, "Oh, he's a mortician." You said without missing a beat, and Beetlejuice's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"Yeah, I’ve got a killer job, ya’know? Business is always dead, but hey, my clients never complain!" He winked, clearly enjoying the morbid joke, chuckling darkly; creepily almost. 

Laria blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his dark humor. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to play along, though a bit unsure. "Well, that’s... Spooky and definitely one way to look at it!" She said, her smile slightly strained but polite. She glanced at you, her eyes questioning but amused, as if trying to gauge whether this was just his usual sense of humor or not. You answered her question with a playful roll of your eyes, and an amused smile of your own; Beetlejuice loved his dark jokes.

"Well, I don’t know about you lovely ghouls," Beetlejuice announced with a grin, reluctantly letting go of your hand as his eyes zeroed in on the snack table, "But I am absolutely dying for a snack!"

Before you could say anything, Beetlejuice took the plastic container of cookies from your other hand and zipped over to the snack table. 

"So..." Laria began, glancing at Beetlejuice before returning her gaze to you, "Morticia and Gomez Addams?”

You nodded, clasping your hands together, “Yeah, his idea.”

Laria nodded her head slowly, her eyes narrowing, still amused, “Was it his idea to go the whole… Undead Gomez Addams route?”

Taking a second to understand what she meant, you quickly nodded back, “Oh yeah,” You let out a nervous sigh as you answered, “He's one for the dramatics and, you know, being a bit extra and unique.”

Laria raised an eyebrow, her curiosity evident. "He's... Definitely something," She said, her tone teasing but not unkind. "I can see why you’ve kept him under wraps. Quite the character, huh?"

You chuckled, nodding. "Oh, no, yeah, he is a handful, he always keeps things interesting. But that's not why I didn't introduce you or anyone else to him sooner." You tried to explain, "You know how I am..." You paused, searching for the right words. "I wanted to make sure this was serious before introducing him to anyone. I really care about him, Laria. He’s... Different, but in the best way. He makes me feel like I’m truly myself when I’m with him."

Laria’s teasing expression softened as she saw the sincerity in your eyes. She could tell from the way you spoke, the way your voice caught just a little when you spoke about him, that this was more than just a casual fling or something that'd end in a month or two. "I can see that," She said gently. "It’s written all over your face. I’m happy for you, really. If he makes you this happy, that’s what counts.”

Your eyes wandered over to Beetlejuice, who was still at the snack table. He looked over at you, his green eyes catching yours from across the room. A toothy grin spread across his face as he gave you a playful wave; wiggling his fingers and eyebrows in that charmingly mischievous way of his.

The sight of him - the red, green, and purple lights hitting him perfectly, reflecting off his hair, accentuating his features, caused you to lose focus slightly - leaving you breathless. You could barely breathe, your heart pounding rapidly, your eyes transfixed on him. 

Unbeknownst to you, all the while you were admiring Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice was admiring you. 

How could he not? You were perfect, gorgeous, and everything in between. 

As Beetlejuice glanced over at you from the snack table, a surge of admiration - surprisingly soft for someone like him - washed over him. You were the absolute picture of perfection, standing there with the party lights casting a warm, flattering glow on you. Your smile, that radiant, effortless smile, made him feel like a total sap, and he was loving every second of it. 

He was holding back from pulling any of his classic Halloween pranks, like turning the punch bowl into a bubbling cauldron of gooey, green slime or making the fog machine go rogue and fill the entire room. Or even forcing everyone to dance like some eighties’ rom-com. But you said not to do that. He didn't want to upset you, nor did he want to upstage his own dazzling date. Not tonight.

Beetlejuice’s smirk grew as he thought, his eyes leaving you briefly to glance around at the partygoers, 'You know if they only knew what I was really capable of, this party would be one for the history books. But no, I’ve gotta play nice. Gotta let them see the softer, mushier side of me. Or at least the side that doesn’t turn the turtle DJ into a human jack-in-the-box.'

He returned his gaze to you, watching as you began talking to more of your friends. 'And speaking of soft and mushy,' He mused to himself, 'You looking so damn perfect tonight, I’m practically bursting at the seams with how much I want to pull you close and kiss your pretty little mouth, taste the sweetness of your lips and-' 

He licked his lips subconsciously, and raised one of your cookies to his lips as a small group of three partygoers walked over to the snack table, laughing at something one of them had said. He gave them the side-eye, listening in on their conversation while also noticing that all three of them had reached out for the cookies. And just like you had said, they each grabbed a few of those store-bought sugar cookies with the orange and green icing. 

Beetlejuice stared down at the snack table, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Your nice, homemade, Halloween-themed cookies - that were absolutely delicious, and to die for, might he add - had been overlooked and ignored. He didn’t understand it. 

Death-glaring down at those sugar cookies, he wondered why someone would ignore your perfectly wonderful cookies for something so… Seemingly bland in creativity. You had spent a good hour decorating your cookies. For him, it was an injustice. The nerve of some people…

The familiar tingle of mischief coursed through him, and Beetlejuice grinned, getting an idea. 

"How did you two meet?" Ruby Rose asked, dressed in her Halloween costume; Barbie's skater outfit from the Barbie Movie, having replaced the neon yellow, roller-blades with neon yellow high-tops. You, Laria, Ruby Rose, and Bryan were standing near the dancefloor, catching up since it had been a while since the four of you had been all together, and boy, did they all have questions for you.

"Oh, uh, through a mutual friend." You struggled slightly with answering, though it was true. You did originally meet Beetlejuice through Lydia.

"Ooooh! Have you gotten to ‘I love yous’ yet? Who said it first?" Ruby Rose then asked, hopping up and down slightly, her hands clasped at her chest; her eyes practically shimmering. 

You let out a sigh, biting down on your bottom lip, "He did." You muttered, but they heard you, your three friends 'aweing' as you thought back to that night.

It was movie night - watching a cult classic movie - when he just blurted it out. You could tell that he was nervous, a sight that you weren't used to seeing in the demon. He didn't really get nervous. After he blurted it out, he tried to laugh it off, but you knew that he meant it; his usually green hair was bright pink.

You were shocked, pleasantly so, speechless for a moment, but said it back. For a moment, you thought that you had broken him. The pink color in his hair deepened, spreading down onto his beard, the shoulders of his striped suit, and tie. 

But, before you knew it, he ‘popped’ out of the room; teleporting away. Only later did you realize that he probably left because of how vulnerable he was feeling, not knowing how to fully express himself, and even possibly the shock of it all. And you understood.

But, it didn't take long until he was back to his chaotic self. And ever since then, Beetlejuice made it his mission every day to make sure you knew how much he loved you.

"Aside from the dark jokes and somewhat erratic personality..." Bryan began, breaking you out of your thoughts. He was dressed as Thor from the MCU. He took a sip of his drink from his red solo cup, "What else is he like?" 

“Besides the dark jokes and his erratic personality?” You echoed, trying to find the right words to paint a picture of Beetlejuice without revealing too much. “Well, he's just got this power to make anything exciting. Like, the dishes for example. I hate doing them, but he can just turn terribly boring chores into something fun. He's also incredibly charismatic. And very passionate about what he likes to do.” You smiled as a few core memories popped up, “He's also protective, but not in the bad way. He's very loyal and devoted to a fault. He also just loves doing things for me.” You shrugged, feeling your heart warm as you thought more about the love of your life. "And despite his quirks, he’s got a really good heart, and he’s sweet, in his own unique way.” You pressed a hand to your cheek, letting out a small laugh, "I could continue on for hours, just talking about him..."

Ruby Rose tilted her head, a fond smile appearing on her lips. "What about his hobbies? What does he like to do, aside from being a mortician?"

“He’s into a bunch of offbeat stuff - like, he’s got this thing for classic horror movies and old-school rock music. And he’s really into creating these elaborate, almost theatrical surprises for me. Sometimes I come home after a hard day at work and I just find a giant box of chocolates on the kitchen counter or a bunch of flowers." Half of that ending statement was true. Beetlejuice loved to give you gifts, he just - not to beat around the bush here - liked to give you more unique items.

Instead of chocolates and living flowers, well... You'd sometimes come home to dead roses in your vase. Beetlejuice had even once gifted you what he called, 'The Essence Of Chaos,' which was just a small vial on a keychain. Inside, it was just glitter, in different colors, but Beetlejuice swore it was the secret ingredient to his own brand of madness. Then there was even a day when Beetlejuice gifted you a distorted mirror. Like one of those mirrors you’d see in fun houses. Beetlejuice just loved seeing you laugh at the funny faces both you and he would create with it. He called it your 'true chaotic self' mirror.

Most people, if they knew, would probably think his gifts were a bit odd and maybe even creepy at times, but you thought that his gifts just showed you how thoughtful he was. He never gave you thoughtless gifts, that's for sure. To you, these gifts were perfect because they were from Beetlejuice.

Every time you saw the dead roses on your kitchen counter, or caught a glimpse of yourself in that warped mirror in the hallway, it was a reminder that he was always thinking about you, always finding ways to bring a little bit of his world into yours, and make you smile.

At your words, Ruby Rose sighed, "That's so romantic..."

Nodding, Laria spoke, "Yeah, he sounds really great. I bet he wouldn't hesitate to do anything for you."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head lightly. "Trust me, he’s already convinced me of that." You stated, chuckling.

Just then, the 'Monster Mash' was replaced with the alluring strains of Santana’s "Black Magic Woman", and the atmosphere in the room shifted subtly. The hypnotic guitar riffs and deep, mesmerizing rhythm filled the air. From across the room, back near the snack table, Beetlejuice’s eyes lit up with mischievous delight, his usual grin widening into a more confident, more knowing smirk as his gaze landed back on you.

Beetlejuice sauntered over to you, his signature smirk stretched across his lips as you turned your head, your attention on him. With a dramatic flourish, he extended his hand, “Ready for a little spellbinding dance, babes?” 

'Speak of the devil...' Your heart fluttered as you bit down on your bottom lip. "We’ll catch up with you three after?" You asked your friends, and they waved you off, nodding, catching a glimpse of their amused expressions before being pulled over to the small dancefloor. 

The crowd's chatter faded into the background as he guided you to the center of the room, his movements exaggerated and theatrical. As the song’s rhythm took hold, Beetlejuice's dance style was a curious mix of seductive and eccentric. He twirled you with flair, his gestures grandiose and also a bit clumsy. 

You couldn’t help but laugh as he tried to master a series of spins and twirls. Despite the clumsy moments, there was something undeniably charming about the way he danced. His eyes never left yours, filled with a playful glimmer that made your heart race. 

As the song approached its final notes, Beetlejuice’s movements grew slower, more deliberate. With a grin, he pulled you close, and twirled you out, back in, and over-exaggeratedly dipped you; his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. Your leg lifted gracefully up to his waist, and you found yourself gazing up at him, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.

But, immediately, you grew suspicious. "Beej," You trailed off, your tone soft but accusatory as he pulled you back up. "What did you do?" You asked, briefly glancing around the room, only to see that nothing was out of place, and no one was screaming. Yet.

Beetlejuice’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer, barely containing his giggles. “I did something,” He whispered with an almost child-like tone.

You narrowed your eyes. “I know you did something. I can tell, you’re very obvious. What did you do?” You pressed, waiting for his answer.

Before he could respond, a series of exclamations erupted from the partygoers around you.

“Why is there a sugar cookie in my hair!?” Someone shouted, bewildered.

“Seriously! I found one in my pocket! But it's covered in this weird green goo!” Another person called out, pulling the cookie out with a look of confusion.

“Who put a cookie in my cup?” A third voice demanded, holding up the soggy cookie with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. 

Beetlejuice’s laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. “Well, it looks like my little plan worked!” He said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably. “I might’ve hidden the sugar cookies in all sorts of places.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed with realization. “You did what?”

“Yep!” Beetlejuice grinned triumphantly. “I figured if people were finding cookies in their hair and drinks, they’d have to eat yours instead of the bland store-bought ones.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you as you watched the confused partygoers rummaging through their pockets, drinks, and hair. “You’re unbelievable,” You said, shaking your head with a grin.

Beetlejuice chuckled, pulling you close. “And you love me for it! Sometimes a little chaos is just what a party needs. So, I guess bringing me was a good idea."

"Of course, I love you," You cooed, cupping his bearded cheek that was tinged pink, though you doubted anyone else would notice in the dim light of the party. He leaned into your touch, practically purring; there was a rumbling in his chest. "And thank you for sabotaging the corrupt cookie cartel."

Beetlejuice’s eyes sparkled as he gazed at you. “Ah, anything for you, babes!” He then gave a theatrical sigh. "Now, let me show you just how much I appreciate you and your amazing cookies.” He said in a funny, posh accent before he gently grabbed your face with both of his hands and brought you in for a sloppy, yet passionate kiss. 

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