#honey x musical!beetlejuice

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"Black Cats Need Candy Too" ~ E. Munson

Summary: In which You and Eddie are greeted by one last surprise trick-or-treater at the end of the night.

Pairing: Musician!Eddie Munson x GN!Reader (Reader does dress as Lydia Deetz for Halloween)

Word Count: 655

Content Warning: literally nothing that i can think of, she's nothing but pure fluff

Extra Notes: though she be short, she still be very cute and i'm lowkey in love with this fic

Originally Written: 10/26/2023

honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

You did a big stretch, standing from your spot on the couch. Your once pristine red dress was now wrinkly from a night of running back and forth to give out candy to all the passing trick-or-treaters.

"You think there will be any more?" you asked as you reached Eddie, arms wrapping around his middle. Your head rested against his shoulder, taking in the scent of his cologne.

He turned around and faced you, giving you a small peck on the forehead. "You head on to bed. I'll be up in a few minutes, yeah?" he spoke softly.

Your lips met for a small kiss before you stepped away in the direction of the bedroom. "Good night, Beetlejuice."

Eddie chuckled, flashing a tired smile in your direction. "G'night, Lyd-"

A faint scratching noise sounded against the door, effectively interrupting his words. Your brows furrowed as it sounded a second time, Eddie shrugging his shoulders in confusion as he opened the door to assess the noise.

The gentle mews of a black cat chimed through the door as it ran inside your home, immediately running over to meet you. Soft fur rubbed against your legs as it purred, your heart swelling at the sight. "Nice costume," you giggled, bending down to pet the cat.

"I suppose black cats need candy too this Halloween," Eddie chuckled, walking over to you.

You picked up the cat and held it close to your chest, scratching under its chin and gaining you a content purr. A dream of yours had always been to own a cat, but you'd never had the space for one or the time you needed to nurture it properly. Now that Eddie's music career had started to take off, you had a bigger house and more time on your hands. You reckoned this might have been a sign, and your heart swooned at the thought of keeping the little guy.

However, before you could think too much on the idea, you noticed its collar, subsequently shutting down your dream of keeping the cat. "He has a collar," you said, trying to say it as a fact. Still, the words came out clearly saddened, your previous smile quickly turning into a frown.

Eddie must've noticed your sadness, taking the cat from your arms. "I'm sorry, honey. Why don't you head up to bed? I'll call the owner and drop him off. He couldn't have gone too far from home."

Your lips met his for a small kiss, his touch bringing you the smallest sense of comfort in your melancholy. "Good night, honey," you smiled at Eddie. Your finger reached for the cat's chin once again, giving it one last scratch. "Good night to you too. Even if I can't keep you."

You were barely halfway down the hall before Eddie was calling your name. Confusion took over as you promptly turned around and headed back to the living room where he stood with the cat still in his arms.

"Baby, listen to this. 'My name is Ghost. I am not lost, but I am in need of a home,'" he read off the cat's collar tag. "Maybe you can keep him after all."

He swore your eyes went heart-shaped as you ran back over, taking the bundle of black from his arms and holding him close to your chest. "Are you serious? Can I keep him?"

Eddie met you with a gentle smile, leaving a soft peck on your forehead once again. "I think it would do you some good to have a buddy when I'm not here. Someone to keep you company while I'm at the studio."

An excited smile flashed across your lips as you leaned up, giving the man a grateful kiss. "Thank you. You're seriously the love of my life."

He snickered, giving you one last kiss. "Good to know. Now come on, let's get you and our little trick-or-treater up to bed."

Happy Halloweek Finale, my loves! 🥹

As previously stated, I totally meant to have this up sooner, but life kicked my butt the past few days and it took me so long to get a chance to edit these last few fics for you guys.

I really hope you guys have enjoyed this week as much as I did! I had so much fun writing all these fics for y'all and getting to celebrate the holiday with you guys. If all goes according to plan, I'm hoping to do something similar to this near Christmas as well so stay tuned for that!

I hope you all had a very happy Halloween and a wonderful Halloweek! Thank you all so much for the love on these fics 🥰

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @hereiamhereigo @esoltis280

[obsessive-ego]

Mistletoe

Musical Beetlejuice x reader gender neutral

You really weren't the type who decorate for the holidays, a simple table top tree, was really the only thing you had up, so it was weird when you noticed mistletoe hung just out of reach, but you weren't stupid, you knew who the culprit was.

Beetlejuice, your undead demon roommate, that talking corpse had made your little home his ever since he claimed you as his bffff forever or whatever, hes been stuck to you like glue. As your attention was directed to the plant, debating on taking it down or not, you're snapped out of your thoughts with a familiar rough grip on your waist from the back.

"Like my little contribution babes?" He purrs nuzzling into you, his beard scratching your neck.

"God Beej-" you start, the ghoul twirls you around to face him

"And correct me if im wrong toots, but Isn't it tradition to kiss under this little plant?~" he coos eyeing you up, his grip on your waist tightening, as if you had the mind to run.

"I guess" you mumble, clearly embarrassed over how long it took you to figure out WHY he put the decoration up in the first place.

Beetlejuice twirls you around once again before dipping you into a rather sloppy exaggerated kiss, pushing his rather large cold tongue down your throat, you make a muffled noise of surprise, as it was rare for beej to force his tongue into you, it was such an odd sensation as it explored every nook and cranny of your mouth, if it was up to the ghoul, he'd do this all night, but you were alive and needed to breath. So You push the demon's chest as a signal for him to knock it off, he grumbles and begrudgingly does so

Beetlejuice retracts his tongue, pulling away from your lips, and resting his forehead against yours, a string of saliva connects the two of you, you lightly pant in an attempt to refill your lungs as the demon only stares back at you with a toothy dangerous grin

"Was it good for you too?" He chuckles

"God-"

"Ya know, I like this little tradition, infact" beetlejuice snaps his fingers, and at first you didn't get it, but pushing away for the ghoul you catch on, glancing around, each doorway had a little peice of mistletoe hanging from it, and not only the doorways every few feet there was one hung on the ceiling, thos holiday was going to get alot more dangerous.

No matter where you went the ghoul was right behind you ready to pounce, not allowing a single opportunity to pass by to kiss you.

"Pucker up buttercup"

All day the ghoul was dipping you into wet sloppy kisses, pushing you into walls, pulling you into doorways, he was desperate for you, and took every chance he was given.

Though you would never say it, You didnt mind, never saying no, and only pushing him off when you needed to breath, despite how embarrassing the whole thing was, you liked it.

When you finally went to bed that night, beej snuck into your room while you were asleep, the demon was completely pink, pleased at how fun today was and how thankful he was when Delia told him about that little tradition. The ghoul couldnt help himself to steal one more kiss from you before he took down all the mistletoe aside from one.

"Sweet dreams babes" he whispers, before making himself comfy to watch you sleep.

Bonus

The next day you notice all the mistletoe was gone, a part of you was relieved while another was a tad disappointed. As you wander around your home, you notice the little plant that started this whole game, you smile, beetlejuice left one up.

"Beej? Can you come here for a sec please?" You holler into your home

In a flash the ghoul was by your side

"You rang honey bunches of oats?" He purrs leaning into you

You grab the demon by his tie, his hair instantly turning pink, you yank him down to your level, before slamming your lips into his, beetlejuice instantly melts into the kiss, his hands hovering over your shoulders, fingers twitching, as if he was unsure to hold you or not

When you pull away the demon is buzzing pink with a big love sick grin, yes beetlejuice has kissed you more times then you could remeber, but it never ceased to fail, when you took charge, it made the demon putty in your hands

"You forgot one Lawrence" you whisper pointing up

The ghoul glanced up only for a second before his attention goes back to you

"Babes, we're still under the mistletoe~" before pushing back into you for another kiss.

I guess maybe a few extra christmas decorations didnt hurt.

[getblackout503]

Here is a Special short story, a Grey x Vanessa story, Happy pride month and enjoy.

—————————-

June, a warm month, the sun shines, and most importantly it was pride month. Vanessa was ready to celebrate, she had her bisexual shirt on, three bottles of wine, and a phone call. Because not only was today the first day of June but it was also her and her girlfriend’s first date. But who’s her girlfriend you ask, well none other than.

“Grey” Vanessa said happily, hugging the blue haired girl tightly. “So glad you could make it, dear” Her and Grey had started dating months ago after both got drunk and confessed to each other and ever since have had a happy and healthy relationship. Vanessa helped Grey be a bit more confident and Grey would be an outlet of comfort for the pinkette, they brought out the best in each other.

“S-So am I” Grey was sporting an oversized hoodie with the Bi flag on it.

“Well come in, I got wine, movies, games, everything”

“O-Okay Vanessa”

As they got situated on Vanessa’s couch, with Grey in Vanessa’s lap because Vanessa likes seeing Grey flustered. They began drinking some wine, though Grey isn’t big on alcohol she will still drink her fair share, even more so since she planned on staying the night with her lover.

“So Grey, how are your auditions going?” Vanessa asked, nuzzling her head into Grey’s shoulder.

“Well s-so far I’ve only auditioned for two different musicals”

“Which ones, sweetheart?”

“Well the local theater is doing Newsies, but the theater uptown is doing Beetlejuice, though I was told I was most likely going to receive a role in Newsies.”

“Hey, That’s still good dear, you’re moving up in the world.” Ever since they started dating Vanessa has encouraged Grey to follow her dreams of being an actress, and so far it’s paid off, Grey has been a part of 5 different plays and musicals. And to Vanessa she was the heart of every show.

“T-Thank you Vanessa.”

“Now I say we get drunk honey!” Vanessa lifted an entire bottle of wine, and Grey just sighed knowing Vanessa would be like this but she smiled nonetheless. As they drank more Grey and Vanessa snuggled more and more, and a comfortable silence came over them yet Vanessa could feel Grey had something on her mind, something that made the bluenette uncomfortable even a bit anxious.

“Grey, honey?” Vanessa asked, rubbing her girlfriend’s head. “You okay, something seems to be on your mind?”

“It’s just…Vanessa, why did you choose me?” Grey asked, never making eye contact with Vanessa. “You could have found someone more confident that isn’t pathetic.”

“Grey, honey.” Vanessa cupped Grey’s face. “I choose you because you’re everything I could ever ask for, you're beautiful both physically and mentally, you make me laugh, you make me smile, you make me feel safe, you make me feel loved, and that's good enough for me.”

“B-But, you’re even more beautiful than me, more confident, you’re better than me, and yet you choose me.” Grey started tearing up.

“But why should that matter dear?” Vanessa gently plants a kiss on Grey’s cheek. “I love you just the way you are, you don’t need to change to feel loved, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you getting more confident but you also need to know my love for you is unconditional.”

“V-Vanessa?”

“I will always love you, come hell or high water.” Vanessa kissed Grey passionately. “I will always love you.”

“I-I Love you too, Vanessa!” Grey bursts into tears, she hugs Vanessa tightly. Vanessa rubs her back in a soothing manner.

“There, there honey,” Vanessa kissed Grey again, who returned the kiss gladly. “Now, how about some more wine?”

“I would love that, Thank you” Grey smiled, and Vanessa returned it in kind.

“I love you forever, Grey”

[demonwifey]

A concept: Beej and Honey are Lydia’s fairy godparents🪲🐝

[rexscanonwife]

I was wondering why I haven't drawn Lydia yet bcs she's my fuckign girl and I love her, then I remembered that I DID draw her a while back!

Not sure why I didn't post it back then but this is one of the first things I ever drew while I was still figuring out our dynamics ahshdjdk 💚

[fa1ry-tales]

𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗢 𝗗𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗥𝗘 𝗞𝗜𝗗 𝗣𝗧. 𝟮

camilo x fem!reader

word count: 0.3k

summary: title- again

warning: cuss words, chaos

notes: i had one (1) singular person ask me for a part two so i gave y’all some. here’s part one

omg part 2 okay lets go!!!!

- yall have most definitely sang a song from beetlejuice before

- probably say my name

- and he took the role of beetlejuice for obvious reasons

- and he definitely shapeshifts into you after you dance to make fun of you

- “ oh i’m [ name ] i can dance so perfectly ” 💃🏻🕺🏼💃🏻🕺🏼

- 100% said that in a high pitches ‘girly’ voice

- little shit

- oh oh and when yall watch high school musical

- yall sang something new and breaking free

- holding pretend microphones

- and yall have sang suddenly seymour at least once

- if not more…

- since in part one i mentioned you love anastasia

- bc i do

- you sang the countess and the common man

- only bc he wanted the heated kiss at the end of it🤫

- i have no reason to believe this

- but his favorite musical is hadestown

- and you know THERES SO MANY DUETS

- wait for me is yalls favorite

- at some point mirabel asked him to preform your stuff for the family

- he turned her down saying

- “ the duets i do with mi vida are for me and me only ”🙄✋🏻

- fucking simp okay

- i just know that one time you lip synced dead girl walking and he almost died

- he also makes sure that you take care of your voice

- you got an audition coming up?

- here, here's some hot tea with honey🤍🤍

- oh also, got you some throat coat for after you sing

- because you’re supposed to do throat coat AFTER you sing not before

- bc if you do it before you’ll hurt your voice even more

- also, no dairy before a performance

- he will also make sure you listen to your body

- he will say something like this

- “ the dance is really demanding mi amor take a break ”

- and if you say no?🤨🤨

- ho ho ho😈

- he will throw you over his shoulder and slam you down on a couch or something

- you will take care of your body when your with him

- i can imagine during tech weeks he like:

- you’re going to get to sleep idc if i have to sedate you

- it’s all in good love ofc

- OKAY LMK IF YOU WANT A PART 3

here’s the links the musicals i mentioned- again!! 

beetlejuice, high school musical, hadestown, little shop of horrors

[heli0s-writes]

IV. The First Taste*

Summary: NSFW Chapter. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader A/N: Modern AU, Teacher reader, Dad/Baker Steve… lots of pining, slow burn, romance. Enjoy!

Slow Like Honey Masterpost

Since you kissed Steve Rogers in your classroom on that Thursday afternoon, you’ve kissed him again and again after each meeting. It’s been precisely two more lunch dates, one more dinner date, and one long walk in the park on his day off before he was suddenly called in for an emergency pastry situation. That’s five kisses. Five dates. Five moments you lie in bed and think about while trying desperately not to scream.

You scold yourself every time because a part of you is embarrassed that you’re so—thirsty! But good God, the man is a tall glass of water you want to drown in. It’s been two stupid years since you’ve kissed anyone, and when you’re in bed at night, you hope that it’s not your lack of practice that’s been keeping him from moving forward.

You can’t be that bad, right? … Right?

But it’s always you who initiates, and Steve always keeps it short and sweet. Once, you felt the slightest flick of his tongue against your bottom lip, but then as quickly as he’d done it, he pulled away.

Grumbling, you press your pillow over your face and punch it a couple of times before settling back down into bed. You peer at the back of your hand in the darkness of your room and contemplate on trying it just like you used to when you were a kid. God, this feels stupid.

Tomorrow, you’ll just ask. Because you’re both adults and because he was your… boyfriend. You smother yourself with the pillow again, because that was an even more mortifying thought than making out with your own hand.

 In the morning you go for a jog and make yourself a quick protein and fruit shake breakfast afterward. Then you head to the pool for about an hour before coming back home. Everything is quiet, and the world is peaceful, now that you don’t have the lives of twenty-five children hovering over your every waking moment. You shower and lie down on the couch before turning on a baking show. Looking around, you survey your apartment. It is so damn barren and cream-colored. You’re not strong nor brave enough to go get a bunch of furniture by yourself and start arranging.

Sighing, you settle on an easier task: maybe today you’ll go buy some houseplants.

Steve texts you a picture of a cheesecake around noon as you’re spraying water into the soil of two new succulents and a hanging fern. You show him your fern, placing your hand next to it for size reference. The messages between you are short and brief, since you see each other pretty often.

Summer break unravels you a little bit, but you’ll be damned if you let your new (very adult) boyfriend know. You play video games and browse the internet with a bottle of wine on the weekends, and your summer is just a giant weekend. It’s almost troubling, really, because every summer you have to either find a new hobby to keep yourself entertained.

Last year you took up rock-climbing and baked a lot… but with Steve around, that just seemed like a good way to get laughed at. And of course, the summer before that one was spent moving out of your ex’s apartment and trying to keep your head above water. You shudder at the thought. If it wasn’t for the very fortuitous call back from your current workplace, you would have probably had to move back home or continued spiraling into credit-card debt.

You text Steve, asking him to suggest a new hobby to you.

Right away, he responds and recommends that you join his watercolor session at the bakery:

I’m teaching a two-hour workshop Sunday after we close. The sign up sheet is already full but… it helps knowing the teacher personally doesn’t it? I do a ceramics one in the winter, too!

You blink.

Steve… I can only draw if I invoke the spirit of Other Steve from Blue’s Clues.

Oh perfect, now he’s calling.

“Yes?” You answer. His laughter is ringing on the other line.

“Hey! Blue’s Clues is an excellent show! And, I gotta admit, that guy can really draw.”

You huff and sputter at him, “Stop messin’ with me. Last year I baked a lot but now that you’re here… I really need a new hobby- a doable hobby!”

He chuckles again before his voice grows quieter. Bossa nova plays in the background, and the coffee grinder is buzzing intensely. “Oh honey,” He whispers, and you’re nearly gasping at the way his voice sounds—low, deliberate—like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Come to the workshop, won’t ya? It’s just a beginner’s thing. I think you’ll really like it. For me?”

The quick-draw refusal you were so sure you could unholster on time is nowhere to be found, not with him asking you so sweetly like that. You grouse jokingly and accept, warning him that if he laughs at your unskilled hand, you’ll never take his advice again.

“Me? Laugh at you? Never, sweetheart. I can’t believe you would think that of me.”

“Oh hush, Steven.”

A puff of air escapes him and everything grows quiet. Steve mutters something you can’t quite make out, and then, even louder than before, the coffee grinder screeches. “Everything okay?” You ask, worried.

“Yeah. Um, yeah. Everything’s good.”

You’re suddenly reminded of the way he pulls away after a good night kiss and reach to unholster that gun.

“Hey—uh wha—why do you--- um.” What the hell is the right way to ask this question? Why have our tongues not fought for dominance? Why haven’t both my hands gotten lost in the front of your button-up shirt? Why have you not pressed your hard, broad chest against me?

Maybe you’ve been reading too much Cosmo or Buzzfeed Relationships in your quest to find the right answers.

“Huh?” Steve asks. “What’s that?”

You holster the gun.

“Nothing! Ha! I’ll see you Sunday!”

“Okay, hon… See you then. Don’t be nervous! It’ll be great!”

 You squeeze your eyes shut as you place your phone on the coffee table. Crisis averted. Then, you search for basic video tutorials on watercolors as well as tips for beginning artists on your phone before casting it to the T.V. It’s entirely baffling and when you pick up a pencil and try to draw your new succulent on a nearby notepad, the voice coming through the speaker sternly states that you should “make marks deliberately-- not fiddling about with sketchy, hairy lines like a fuzzy caterpillar!”

What you’ve been working on looks exactly like a fuzzy caterpillar, and your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

So you try again, erasing furiously before attempting those “deliberate” lines. After nearly fifteen minutes, you sit back and peer at your creations.

“Jesus.”

Your smooth, plump, glossy plant looks like one of those inflatable tubes outside of an auto dealership in the middle of deflating.

You feel deflated, too.

Over your dinner table is a corkboard of photos and postcards, and you walk over to snag Steve’s thank you card from its place in the corner. You study his technique and peer at the delicate forest green line of each stem- just a single, continuous stroke. The petals seem to be merely blobs of color if you’re looking closely, and where the flowers touch, sometimes the pigments bleed over each other.

No, it’s not a perfect thing. But it is gorgeous, still.

So, you try… again. This time, you tear off the deflated succulent drawing and place it on your coffee table in the left corner. Just for good luck, you chant “Steve, Steve, Steve!” as if he’s Beetlejuice, and get to work. Half your brain is thinking of the striped green shirt and oversized crayon, and the other half is thinking of a striped blue shirt and oversized pecs. Either way, both of them could art.

You’ve drawn all year for your students- especially your ESL kids who struggled with codeswitching. Sometimes, when they were unable to find the right word, or you were, you’d draw a picture instead. According to twenty-five first graders, you were an amazing artist, so… what the hell!

Ten minutes later, you tear off the top of the notepad and set it down next to its brother.

The two are stark differences, and your second one is little bit better. You’re almost proud of it—smooth flowing lines, rounded edges, and even a flat plane of the table to ground the pot.

Sitting back, you click around some more, making sure to choose videos that are most helpful to your current ability. Those speed-up painting videos were hella tempting, but you do not want to get lost in the rabbit hole.

Sunday is two days away. At the very least, you were going to be able to draw a damn good succulent.

---

You come in early to help him close before the workshop begins. Cap&Co. closes on Sundays right at six, and the workshop would start half an hour later.

The baristas say hello to you and smile, and you do the same back before you grab a rag and spray a counter down. The leftover pastries and sandwiches are placed on a tray and put in the middle of the room, where the tables and chairs have been pushed together by Steve.

“Snacks!” He smiles, “For the students.”

“Does that make me your student too?” You tease, finding the situation a bit ironic.

He winks at you before hanging up his apron. Between the four of you and the work that’s left, it’s quickly finished in the next ten minutes and the employees leave, wishing you a good night as they go.

Steve lets you choose the music for the night as he brightens the lights, and you randomly scroll through the shop’s selection before picking an old album you used to like as a younger girl—Fiona Apple’s 1996 Tidal. Right away, the singer’s brassy voice catches his attention.

“Who is this?” He asks excitedly, “I think I heard her on the radio the other day!”

You tell him, and he nods along to the music as he sets out sheets of watercolor paper clipped neatly on boards. Then he lays out five travel-sized round palettes already filled with an array of colors. By the time all the paintbrushes are next to each clipboard, people are starting to arrive and Steve is back and forth saying hello and giving hugs. You finish the end of the preparation and fill up heavy mason jars with water and set them at each spot. Then, you take your seat with a cake pop and eagerly and watch him lead the demonstration.

“Thanks for coming, everyone!” He smiles widely at the end of the table. “Good to see some of you again!”

 This must be what your students feel like, you think—you hope, because you are absolutely enthralled with everything that pours from his mouth. Even the way he stumbles over his words fascinates you, and the fact that he is so animated and engaged makes you love it even more.

Steve tells the group that he’ll demonstrate for about twenty-five minutes before everyone can start either trying out various techniques, or if they’ve done it before, can begin on painting whatever they please and he’ll come around to offer help. He suggests the plants for a nice still life, or other knick-knacks around the shop. Some returning students have even brought their own objects and you want to pinch yourself because you could have brought your succulent!

Then, he begins, showing you the right way to load the paintbrush with paint and water, and how water tension is so important to the medium. He shows you the difference between a wet brush and a dry brush. He shows you how to layer the colors. Your brain can hardly keep up with your eyes as they enthusiastically soak up the colors over his paper and the way his wrist moves easily back and forth from the mason jar where he cleans the bristles, to the palette saturated with pigment, to the paper where strokes are being placed.

“Here is a quick and easy way to make a flower.”

Steve loads a fat brush with water and pulls two shades of orange onto the white of the palette. In one swift motion, he streaks a daub of it onto the paper, letting the water gather more heavily on one side.

“We’ll let that dry for just a second— but we can do this for now.” He presses the tip of the brush into a tiny bit of red and makes another mark similar to the first one. The edges of the paint that touches leaks into each other, creating a tiny blossom of red into the first petal.

“This is what will happen when your paint is still wet—but that’s okay!” He makes two more petals—slightly more yellow than the last and touches his finger to the one with the accidental red bloom.

“It’s pretty dry now.” He blows softly on it for good measure and mixes a rosy coral shade into his brush.

The last petal is swept over the first, and the overlapping area where they touch turns into a vibrant shade of ripe orange. Then, quickly, he sticks the wood handle of the brush sideways between his teeth and picks up a smaller brush, wetting it, loading it with a deep purple that’s almost black, and makes a spray of dots in the middle.

“There ya go!” He takes the brush out of his mouth.

A part of you thinks that you are fucked because you may have just fallen in some deep shit here, as you stare at him, grinning widely—so proud of himself and somehow proud of you, too, for listening.

He’s made it seem impossibly easy. An absurdly beautiful blossom from his imagination stares at you from the watercolor pad in his hand as you shakily pick up the brush next to your hand.

“Well… shit, Steve.” You whisper before breaking out into a silly laugh and putting your forehead into your palm at the thought of the herculean task at hand. The woman to your right laughs along with you as she makes scribbly marks and drips globules of blue water onto her paper. Steve beams at you lovingly as you try to imitate the way he made the first petal, steering the water where you want it to go.

It doesn’t.

But you’re determined, damn it. Because one, you really want to impress him, and two, you really need a summer hobby.

The next hour flies by as you paint diligently, occasionally humming along to Fiona Apple’s resonant vocals in the background, chatting with the other painters. They’re all regulars at Cap&Co., and they adore the Rogers family.

Steve circles the room and answers questions, giving pointers, and sometimes putting his hand over yours to lead your paintbrush. He even kisses you on the top of your head when you finish your first flower—a lavender five-petaled ...cephalopod.

The affectionate gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by the others as they smile and quietly ask him questions when they think you’re not listening. Your ears go hot the rest of the night—just as hot as the top of your head because Steve!

Before you know it, it’s time to pack up. The album has already repeated, and it’s back to an early track. No one seems to mind, however, as they take their papers and wave goodbye. You linger in the area, pouring out dirty water and putting the jars back under the sink. Steve puts away the paints, fixes the rest of the tables, and you return to the café area to join him. He’s patting his thighs with his wet hands when you come in, nodding along to the music.

You gaze at the damp spots on his legs, the fabric of his trousers slightly clinging onto his muscles. Quickly, before he sees you, you look away.

“This exact song was on in the car.” He mutters amusedly, “I really like this… she’s got a great voice.”

Steve walks closer to you, stopping a few steps away and leans against the edge of a wooden booth. He crosses his arms and press his lips together, eyelashes fluttering as he smiles.

“What now?” He asks. His voice echoes the same low and deliberate tone you’ve heard before, and you think that the question isn’t really a question at all. But you’re not really sure what to make of it—tonight may have been the most forward he’s ever been.

The lights are dimmed. The piano melody crescendos before the song ends. There’s a pause of silence before the next song begins, and you feel your heart leap as the first few words start.

I lie in an early bed, thinking late thoughts.

“Um…” Your voice cracks.

I do not struggle in your web because it was my aim to get caught. But daddy long-legs, I feel that I’m finally growing weary of waiting to be consumed by you.

Steve cocks his head to the side, also listening—to the music, perhaps to your now uncomfortably loud heartbeat. You run your hand through your hair. The music chimes into a more upbeat tone as the chorus starts.

Give me the first taste. Let it begin. Heaven cannot wait forever.

“Why don’t you ever kiss me first?”

His eyebrows raise briefly before he blinks a couple of times. You tilt your chin to your chest and lace your fingers together, foot tapping anxiously as you stand in wait. “I mean, I think I’m just a little confused. We’ve seen each other for like, two weeks now. I feel like it’s always me who initiates—but tonight you did a little bit more of that. And… I guess we’ve only kissed—Am I bad kisser? Steve? Am I?”

You’re full of rambling, nervous energy but you try your best to play it off. It was such an awkward thing to say out loud, and there was no way you could come out and spit: Why have we not had sex yet?

Steve surges forward and takes your hand in his, “No!” His head his shaking wildly, “You’re a great kisser! The best!”

His blabbering catches you off-guard and the snort of laughter that comes from you is anything but attractive. “Jesus, Steven, that’s too much.”

Steve slaps his palm to his forehead. “Ah… I’m sorry. I think I’m just nervous.”

“About what?” You ask, leaning forward and looking up at him, “Steve, I just… snorted. You can’t be nervous about this. I should be the one who’s nervous! Look at you!”

He takes a step back and puts one hand on his hip, the other reaching forward to signal to you. “Look at me? Look at you!” He gawks.

The two of you stand there, pointing at each other, making scoffing noises of disbelief for a good two minutes before you put up your hand. “Okay. Pause, mister. You look like someone Photoshopped a rugged Ken Doll and then 3-D printed it. Westworld-style. You bake, you paint, you’re a ceramic---ist? Ceramicist? What! Steve!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “Come on! Your fuckin’ arms!”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m thirty-five and divorced. I sleep four hours a night. I’m a walking disaster.” Then he narrows his eyes at you.

“You’re gorgeous! You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re so sweet…! You’re honest?” He ticks off each adjective using his fingers, “You’re patient? God, Sarah throws half a tantrum and my world collapses. You’re dedicated. You’re---“

“Okay. Stop.” You mutter, cheeks burning hot, “I sleep on the couch next to a bottle of wine and have three pieces of furniture. We’re both disasters.”

Steve laughs and steps forward again, putting his hand over yours. “I just… didn’t want to mess anything up.” He whispers, “I like you so much… and… if we’re… talking about that. I haven’t… been with anyone in … two years. Other than you, I’ve only kissed one person my entire life… So, the question is—am I a bad kisser?”

You giggle as he gives you an apologetic smirk, shaking his head at the way you two have been aggressively complimenting each other. Standing on your tiptoes, you move to nuzzle your nose against his. “You’re a great kisser, Steve. The best.”

Darkness flutters over his eyes briefly before Steve expertly dodges your nose and catches your mouth with his instead. With a half-whimper, half-moan, Steve Rogers grabs the back of your neck in one large, warm hand and your lower back with the other and presses your body flush against his.

Oh.

He’s so tall he has to bend over and you’re so small against him that he’s nearly picking you up. A brief parting of your lips give you a moment to catch your breath, but he’s back again, tongue sliding against yours sweetly, as if asking a silent question.

Is this okay?

With a sigh of pleasure, you ask him to continue in the same, secret language. Your chest his burning hot, tummy quivering with nerves and delight as his hands roam your body. Firm. Strong. Almost desperate. Your own hands rest against his chest before one reaches up and cups his face, trailing your fingertips through his beard.

“D-does it bother you?” He mutters against your mouth before he slides down past your jaw and lands his lips on your neck, “My beard?”

“Mmm—no—” you’re breathless as he kneads his fingers into your waist, moving up to position them just below your breasts, “I like it—mmm-- lots.” You sigh, as his scruff tickles your shoulder, sending tingles all over your body. “I’d like to feel it… elsewhere, too.”

He freezes and pulls away. His hands place you back down on your feet-- back to Earth-- as he swallows hard, looking at you with open, red lips. Steve rolls the bottom one between his teeth and clenches his jaw, eyes half-lidded and lustful. You’re probably a wreck, too, you think as you catch yourself against a table.

“Can we---”

You cut him off. Your purse is already in your hands, keys swinging around your finger.

“God. Yes. I’ll follow you.”

 Steve tugs you from the driver’s seat of your car, hand entwined with yours as he leads you up the walkway and over the step. Once the front door shuts behind him and he’s made sure it’s locked, you’re pressed up against the wall, purse, shoes, keys, clattering onto the hardwood.

“Oh, honey,” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, scooping you up into his arms. “Oh, Jesus, sweetheart.”

You’re glad he knows how to navigate his house with his eyes closed because the whole way there, you can’t stop kissing him. Your hands tug his hair and your teeth pinch his bottom lip. Steve responds by growling softly, biting you back, squeezing your thighs before slowly easing you onto his bed.

It’s dark in his room, but you feel the bed dip as he climbs on too. Both your eyes are trying to adjust—trying to find each other. Your hands fumble around until you catch him, his knee. His hands find your stomach. Slowly, he reaches for the hem of your shirt and peels it up over your head. Then he does the same to his own shirt and both of you shimmy out of your pants.

He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been two years and the first man you touch is more like a mythical creature than any man. It should be illegal for someone to feel this good.

Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.

“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This--” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already...”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.

“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of thick muscles.

The mischievous chuckle that pours from his throat vibrates against your chest. Steve grabs onto your thigh and eases your leg over his hips inching closer and straightening himself until you’re aligned perfectly. He tilts back and guides you against him until your center slides against his bulge.

Just as you find the elastic of his waistband, he jerks away and places himself in-between your legs as he moves you onto your back. You scoot until your head hits the wall, propping yourself up on your elbows, giving him more room at the foot of the bed.

“You wanted to feel this?” Steve caresses your thighs with his cheek, the hairs on his beard tickling your sensitive skin. Your toes curl up reflexively as he moves back and forth, trailing his lips and face all over.

You squeal when the tip of his nose touches your mound, mouth hovering over your soaked panties. His mouth latches on, almost in a bite before he takes them off. Both his hands slide beneath your bottom, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before he pulls your hips forward. You land on his face, eyes rolling back in ecstasy.  

“Steve,” You gasp, “This is unfair.” Your body jerks with every teasing kiss he presses to your folds. His breath comes out in a smug puff of air that purposefully continues to drive you unbelievably closer to what feels like breaking entirely.

“Baby…” he mutters—right into your cunt, Jesus! You groan at the way his face is nestled there. “Baby---mm— It’s been two years for me.” He whispers, “If I don’t get you off now, in a really good way—it’s not gonna be good at all.”

“Steve—you know—ah! It’s been the same amount of time for me too, right?!”

He ignores you, crawling his hands around onto your hips to keep you from squirming. When you settle finally, he moves one hand to your center, sliding a finger up and down your slippery folds. His mouth latches onto your clit as his finger continues their trail. You fist his hair with both hands at the same time he slips a digit inside.

But he doesn’t move. Other than his tongue’s soft licks on your swollen clit, Steve doesn’t move at all. He happily lets his finger rest inside of you, gathering your juices all over his hand.

You whimper, trying to shimmy against them, anything to create more contact. Its intrusion builds a terrible itch inside of your body, and goddamn it, you want to scratch.

It feels like an eternity passes before he finally lets you have another—adding one more thick finger inside, stretching you as he moves them both around, curling them, pumping them in and out. He sucks enthusiastically on your sensitive bud, fucks you with two fingers almost wildly, and your body responds with fervor. You gasp and moan, arching your back into his hand and face, goosebumps blooming all over your shoulders and down your arms and legs.

“C’mon, that’s it. Thassa good girl. You’re so close. Almost there… Good girl… Good girl.”

With a cry, you come undone, rolling your hips every which way as you reach orgasm on Steve’s hand. His voice continues to praise you, lips kissing your sweat-slicked thighs, beard tickling your sensitive skin.

Instead of pulling away, Steve continues to stroke you with his fingers, slowly prodding at your entrance with a third.

“Just trying to get you ready.” He murmurs, and your heart stills. Ready?

You voice your concern, “What do you mean?”

With a slight chuckle, he sits up, wiping his mouth and parts of his beard with the back of his hand. In the dark, Steve reaches for your arm, guiding you to feel exactly what he’s talking about. A strangled cry escapes your throat as you wrap your fingers around his cock. Hot. Throbbing. Big.

Sweet, sensitive, divorced, baker, artist, ceramicist, father Steve fuckin’ Rogers was packing. And it isn’t until you nervously grip him in both hands do you realize the importance of his last statement.

“Can I get you ready, baby?” He asks again.

For the millionth time that night, your eyes roll back and get lost in your head as you lean against the headboard with a whimper. Steve crawls over on top of you, scoops you up once again in his arms, and places you on his lap. Your legs wrap around his back loosely as he holds you still, previous two fingers pushing inside gently.

You rest your head on his shoulder as your body shakes under his ministrations, already tired and overstimulated. Your hands find their way to grip him, massaging his length tenderly, savoring the temperature of his body, spreading the beaded precum at the tip of his cock up and down his shaft. Steve groans, scissoring his fingers inside of you, spreading your walls.

The third finger meets resistance as you tense up.

“S-sorry,” You whisper, “I’m… I’m pretty nervous…” But you move his hand back and try again. He’s so tender and sweet with you as he turns his head to place kisses on your cheek and ear. It’s a few minutes of this exploration before you feel brave enough to shift and stroke him with determination. Steve takes the message as a confirmation and reaches into the end table for a condom.

It’s slipped on and you follow suit, gasping as Steve guides your hips with one hand, and grips himself with the other. Slowly, he fills you inch by inch until he’s so deep inside you think he could emerge from your throat.

“Oh… my… God!” You cry. There aren’t enough words to describe it— the sweetest sting, an all-encompassing and chilling burn, a mystifying and utter fullness that nearly brings tears to your eyes. You’re afraid to move, to lose this sensation, and afraid to feel what comes next. But you know that you want it.

Steve kisses your lips tenderly, babbling praise, whispering affirmations, soothing the shock that surges up your spine with his warm palm. Slowly, he rocks you back, holding onto your body with one hand, smoothing the hair that falls over your face with the other.

You’re gripping him so tightly it takes some effort to slide even an inch of him out— and there’s many inches of him. Sweat collects on your brow as you grind, dragging against his length, forcing shudders to course all over both your bodies. “Is this okay?” you mutter, delirious, “Steve? You feel so good.”

He flexes within you, grunts into your ear. A dry chuckle escapes him as his hand squeezes your back just a little too hard. He’s holding back, trying to prolong your pleasure, but his own is chasing him down, only a few steps away from pouncing.

You coax it towards him with faster snapping of your hips against his, clawing at his back, nibbling on his ear. “Come on, my love… just a little more.”

With a grunt and a shudder, and a hard kiss to your lips that makes your teeth clack against each other, Steve thrusts one last time as deeply as possible, riding out his orgasm as he pulls your hips against his. The two of you feel welded together, sticky with sweat and so tightly flushed that you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. You body slumps as you drape your arms over his neck. Steve turns his head to kiss your shoulder before making the effort to pull away and clean himself up. He goes into the bathroom first, lying you down and covering you with the blanket.

 When he returns, Steve finds you already dozed off. You palm rests under your cheek as you lie on your side, breathing deeply.

As quietly as he can, he squeezes in beside you, fitting himself against your back. He’s read it somewhere, that falling in love was a little bit like falling asleep. As his eyes slip shut, he feels it happening, just like that quote had said: slowly at first, then… all at once.

In the darkness behind his lids, there is strangely so much light.

Next Chapter

[m0chisenpai]

Honey I’m Home

Series: Beetlejuice the Musical

Pairing: Beeltejuice x demon!Reader

Warning: domestc fluff may give too many uwus 

Back in the Netherworld the Shoggoth household stood proudly on a tall hill. Think of it as the Maitland’s home but more spacious and a bit more dark and victorian gothic on both the outside and inside as a breather friend helped decorate.

The newly wedded couple were back after spending a month away in Scaris for their honeymoon together. 

After returning Y/N was granted a higher position as her ex boss met a unique demise involving a sandworm by a mysterious cowboy.

In the kitchen Beeltejuice stood over a large bubbling pot with god knows what in it with an apron that read “kiss the corpse” written across it. He held the spoon o his mouth smacking his lips together.

“It’s missin’ somethin’“ a beetle ran across the counter which he caught “aha!” He dropped the bug into the pot taking another taste and humming in approval. 

Y/N slowly walked in hiding a bottle behind her back as she tip toes into the kitchen where her husband was humming to himself shaking his hips much to her amusement.

“Honey! I’‘m home!” 

“Babes!’ He threw the spoon behind him flying forward to scoop the demoness up pecking her all over her face.

“I haven’t been gone that long have I?” She giggled planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Yes you have been! You wanna know what I did? I almost watched the...the shopping network.” He stuck his tongue out like a child.

“Well look what I got as a little promotion gift” Y/N pulled the dark bottle from behind her back.

“Worms Wart! Ah I haven’t had this in a while.” Beetlejuice took the bottle uncorking it and breathing in the drink.

“Lets save it for dinner I’ll help you set up bugaboo.”  

Y/N snapped her fingers and a nice set up appeared in the living room with a few candles lit and flowers in the middle of the table with some grizzly horror movie ready to be played on tv. 

“Alright and now for the main course of tonight, cream of newt”

“Oh my favorite” Y/N cooed as Beetlejuice filled up the bowls while Y/N poured two glasses. Beetlejuice settled next to her picking up the glass swirling it around letting out a content sigh as he wrapped an arm around his wife pulling her closer to his side.

“If I knew married life would be this good I would have eloped with you centuries ago.”

“Is that so Mr.Shoggoth?”

“Indeed Mrs.Shoggoth” he smirked down at her kissing her lips while gently tapping their glasses together and taking a sip when they pulled apart. A scream from the tv caught the attention of the two.

“Ooo is this the part where her head spins?”

“Hell yeah look at her go!”

[vicunaburger]

Admittedly, I’m Hard to See

Fandom: Beetlejuice the Musical Chapters: 16/? Pairing: Beetlejuice x OC (Holidae) The Players: Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz, Holidae Bell Word Count: 1,784 Warnings: M for Mature Content, Adult Situations

Notes: There’s smut, but it’s not too graphic so...

Chapter 16- In Which Humanity is a Matter of Choice

Holidae was beginning to realize that, not only had she acquired a ghostly bedmate, but that she had come into possession of a large, fickle cat.

Beetlejuice would follow her room to room; sometimes drifting somewhere near the ceiling, or sticking close enough to trip her up if she wasn’t paying attention to his placement. She already lacked a gift for spatial awareness and having a full grown adult male glue himself to her personal space was not going to do her any favors. He was never out of her peripheral, intentionally placing himself with her sight lines the moment she would turn her head.

A passing thought wandered into her head as she made herself some coffee, glancing up at the demon sitting on the countertop as he swung his legs around childishly. Was he afraid he would cease to exist in her mind if she didn’t see him wandering around? Was it some sort of ghost rule she wasn’t aware of?

The toe of his boot was tapping against her leg, earning him a quirked eyebrow, “You want a cup?”

Shaking his head, he merely continued tapping her leg.

Rolling her eyes into the back of her head, Holidae shuffled out of the kitchen with her filled cup, nearly spilling it when she felt his arms wrap around her neck from behind. It had become his new favorite game: clinging to various parts of her without supplying any extra weight.

His hands started to wander lower, slipping under her arms and around to unabashedly grope her chest, “You’re warm.”

Instead of peeling him off of her like a static balloon, she let him hold whatever part of her stuck his fancy. She figured it was better than trying to pry any elaboration to his comment out of him, since he had a habit of being dodgy with it came to the Living. Beej’s body would start leeching the heat from her skin, it was true, but there was no discomfort once their temperatures balanced out.

Futile as it might have been, Holidae tried to go about her routine while he was still attached to her. Soft whispered promises and not so subtle mouthing along her neck were ruining her concentration; and the thought of relenting to his advances was too tempting to ignore.

How much did they spend on camera film this month? Would it better to order it in bulk? She drummed her fingers on the ledger on the table, desperately trying to ignore his hand sliding under the waistband of her pants.

In all fairness, she managed to hold out until his cold fingers brushed against the thin fabric of her undergarments. A personal accomplishment in willpower, if nothing else.

Beej was obviously in more dire straights than Holidae, not even bothering to use his supernatural abilities to get them into a bed or sofa. Instead, it was a sloppy, dirty affair against the hallway wall; all teeth and claws as he devoured her smaller form. Invisible limbs held her fast against the wall, allowing his corporeal hands to busy themselves disrobing her until her bottom half was completely bare save for her socks.

This was not the careful, intimate encounter from last night, and she reveled in the feel of his large body pressing against her as he struggled to unbutton his trousers. There was no finesse, no thought of anything to do with comfort or preparation, just a base need exchanged in a shared look between them as he pushed up into her heat. Holidae choked out a sob, the stinging burn sending shock waves through her nerves.

It hurt, but it was delicious.

Beetlejuice darted forward to capture her mouth in a deep kiss, swallowing the mewling whimpers that bubbled up from her throat as he started to move within her. Holidae buried her hands into his soft hair, a mix of pink and murky emerald, and tugged hard, wanting him to hurt as payment for his haste. She was rewarded with a shameless moan from the demon, his claws digging into the flesh of her hips like needles.

Almost as if it pained him to do so, he slowed down his frantic thrusts, pulling back in order to watch her face with a laser-focused intensity. Holidae could only imagine what he saw, unable to see her reflection in those gold eyes of his. No doubt a sweaty, breathless mess of a woman; flushed with lust only for him. It was almost frightening how easily he turned her on, how he seemed to know just where to touch and what to say in that gravel-laden voice.

Beej tilted his head sharply to one side, reminding her of a raptor in a dinosaur film. Unclear if he was curious about something in her expression, or about to tear her throat out with his teeth.

Either way, there was a noticeable fluttering in the pit of her stomach at the thought of him turning full predator in an instant; a primal reaction that went straight to her core, feeding her arousal tenfold.

Terrifying and thoroughly wanton.

The ghost followed each micro-expression as it flitted across her face, his eyes turning dark with lustful pride at how utterly helpless she looked under him. He ran his tongue along his teeth, chuckling as her eyes followed the motion with keen interest. His little breather wouldn’t have to wait long to feel that unnaturally long appendage as he licked a stripe against her neck, lingering around her artery. It was wet and thick against her skin, coaxing the most beautiful cry from her lips.

“My little breather…” Beetlejuice pinned her hard against the wall, keeping them both still. “You are mine, aren’t you, Holidae?”

Panting, she tried to roll her hips against him, unhappy at the loss of delicious friction inside her, “What a question to ask at a t-time like this. You think I’d let just anyone b-b-be in your position? How low do you think me?”

Laughing at her, he snapped his pelvis forward, eliciting a low moan from deep within her chest, “There you go ruining a perfectly romantic moment with your logic. You’re supposed to say ‘Oh BJ, I’m only yours~’. Or something like that. I like hearing you say that kinda thing while getting shagged silly. Call me a narcissist, a selfish prick if you want, but what can I say? I like my ego stroked.”

“You’re a selfish prick.” She managed to give him a deadpanned reply, biting her lip in frustration.

He rewarded her with the motion she so desperately wanted, setting a brutal pace, “That’s my good girl! Don’t want you going all starry-eyed and stupid on me. No fun without a little bite, you know what I mean?”

Holidae wasn’t sure if he was really expecting another witty remark, but he knocked all the fight out of her when he angled her body just so against the wall. She buried her face against his shoulder, the heady scent of smoke and fresh dirt filling her lungs with each breath she took. Vaguely, she could hear him muttering something into the crook of her neck, his hold on her becoming impossibly tight. The invisible limbs wrapped around her like a blanket, no part of her untouched; as though they were trying to block out everything from her existence, save for him.

—

Later, when they were both clean -again- after a few more rounds of “fun time” - a term he used much to her chagrin - they lounged outside in the chilly autumn weather. Beetlejuice lounged in one of the deck chairs, a cigarette between his lips and his hands behind his head, while Holidae was straddling his lap, her hands idly tracing shapes on the lapels of his coat. Slowly, her hands moved up to the sides of his head, covering the tips of his pointed ears. Frowning, she moved onto his hair next, blocking out the bright color with the palm of her hand and squinting as she studied him.

“What’re you doing?” Beej cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Trying to picture you as a human.” Holidae’s tongue peeked out from her lips as she concentrated her efforts.

With barely a twitch of his hand, his appearance shifted beneath her, the more demonic parts of him melting away - quite literally- as she watched. The difference was subtle in some respects: he still had the same build, the same rounded face covered with a fine layer of stubble. His hair was still unruly, but a normal mousey brown shade that lacked the vibrancy she had come to expect. His skin was fair in color, no longer dotted with bits of mold and dirt, and his eyes were dulled to a normal amber shade. No pointed ears, no claws as he reached to remove the cigarette from his mouth, and no sharp teeth were visible when he gave her a lopsided grin.

“Well?” Even his voice was different; soft and smooth as honey.

Holidae pulled her hands away from him as though they were burning against the newly “living” flesh of his face, going so far as to shift her weight back on his thighs.

He looked… wrong to her.

Shaking her head, she held her arms tight against her sides, “I appreciate the effort, I really do, and it’s not as though you make an unattractive human. I mean, I wouldn’t have turned you down had to you asked me on a date. But this… it’s not… my thing?”

“No? You wanted to know what I looked like as a breather, what’s not to like about me?” Beej watched her carefully, taking note of the obvious discomfort she presented.

“The guy I like isn’t human,” Holidae furrowed her brow, poking at his clean cheek with her index finger. “If I wanted a normal guy, I would have made an effort to get one before now. But I have you: a ghost, demon, whatever you call yourself any given day, and that’s just fine by me.”

Beetlejuice clicked his tongue, “I dunno, Holly’n’Ivy, maybe I wanna stay like this for a while. Could go into town, cause some mayhem-”

“If you stay like this, you can forget about ever seeing me naked again.” Holidae cut him off, her expression instantly serious.

The effect was immediate, Beej shaking himself like a wet dog and changing his appearance back to normal, “You drive a hard bargain, babes; you being naked is like top five of my favorite things.”

She squished his face between her hands, feeling the stubble scratching her palms, “Only top five?”

“Well, yeah, because you can be naked and not doing anything sexy around me.” He lifted a hand, gesturing to create some invisible mark in the air. “Now, both of us naked? You start moving up the scale.”

Before he could explain any other tiers to his imaginary measurement system, the door to the outdoor deck swung open, revealing a surprisingly chipper Lydia. With a snap of his fingers, Beej disappeared from underneath Holidae, causing her to land awkwardly on the lounge chair with a squeak. The ghost picked Lydia up around her waist, spinning her around as though she weighed nothing at all.

“My bestest best friend is back! You weren’t eaten by wild animals or that mothman guy that lurks around the woods.” He laughed setting her back down with a smile.

“BJ, mothman doesn’t come up this far north, you know that.” Lydia made a face, pushing him back in a joking manner. “I can’t believe you just dropped Holli like that. Rude. I thought you two were all kissy kissy by now.”

“Oh, we’re waaaaaay beyond kissy kissy.” Beej chuckled, lighting up fresh cigarette. “Shy little Holly Jolly here is a goddamn hellcat in the sack.”

“Beetlejuice!”

Writing Tags: @hoodoo12 @mr-geuse @paxenera @leiasolo77 @go-commander-kim @a-subconscious-manifestation @asriells @missihart23 @heknowshisherbs @mrgeuse @amywright

[beebeyjuice]

Let’s Move! Beej x Reader

It was currently 2:18 am and you were still on the computer, typing away at anything to continue to type something up for your English class. Your boyfriend, beetlejuice, or Beej for short, was sitting next to you waiting the moment you would close your latop and tell him that you were ready to go to sleep to cuddle. He learned not to rush you, and he learned little by littl about your constant knicks and ticks.

You were currently typing the beginning of a request online known as Cambler where you write short stories. However, soemthing caught at your heart and you were just inspired to write, write, write, write, write, write, write, wi-

You were typing so much adn boucning your legs that Beetlejuice observed you then yelped as he was startled from th fast movements of your hands. You were shaking your hands, were they aching from the constant writing? No, you didn't comment on your pain, but he watched the repetitive movements you made, it looked like you were pretending to strike the drums- oh no...were lsitening to -

He checked the tab that were open to spot the music icon and resd the title next to it. Indeed, it was, curse the autoplay, now he had to wait a lot longer. He shrugged his shoulders and plug the headphones that you bought and lsitened to the music. DRUMS striking incredibly fast, trumoets flying with notes higher than the magical leaf can get you at, you were striking the drums in the air, your gaze focused on the wall and you shook your hands along with bouncing your leg.

He hated that this song captured your full attention for only the 4 minutea and you abandoned all your activities to shake your hands rapidly and hard, almost liek you were mmicking the drums, but he knew better. he knew better because he had done so many times, he fel the music gulfing him down as well, bouncing his leg to the rhythm of th emusic and led his pointer fingers to a beat with his eyes closed. He opened them only to see you in the sam eposition until you began to slow down into a halt, resting you rarms on the desk in front of you.

He calmed down and looked at your arms, "Hey babes?"

Your gaze lowered with a slight head tilt and he inched closer, tapping on your slightly throbbing arm to get your attention. You actually disociated and it was normal for you, needing a moment to just stay in teh silent for the moment. Beetlejuice leaned closer to lift your chin, "Babes to Babes, can ya hear me?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. Your eyes looked so dull, so unresponsive, almost like your body just had a moment to shut down, and now he had to wait. It was hard to pull her out of the zone, it was so longamd dreading and -

How did it get this long, was it passing by slow, or fast? Now Beetlejuice knew he was gonna pay hell for this, but he removed the headphones from his Babes, hearing the melodic of the swng music continuning ti play and he made sure to pause th emusic, "Hey Babes." He softly says, stroking the back of your hand, "Babes, mama?"

Your mouth slightly agaped, you rlips quivered, your fingers had a werird sensations after shaking them for so long, you wanted to snap out, what was going on? WHy was it so hard to get out of here? Oh right, it felt pretty good to just sit in one spot and just not do anything, but beetlejuice was calling you out. Fuck, how to get out of hre? Even you worked twice as hard to snap out. It was like a loop, and you couldn't be able to stop until you actually made a complete halt, but when would that be?

Beetlejuice continued to stroke you rhand, but now he stroked you rarm, squeezing you rhand softly. Your arm trembled, and he felt it. This meant that you stopped for a complete and you were currently looking at your surroudnings, not with your surroundngs but with your sensations. You stuttured in your blinking and you squeeezed you rhand with a light tremble, "Hm?..."

"Hi Babes, Swing and Blues got to you." He stated, and you smiled softly, "Oh yeah..that music makes me want to just...shake everything furiously," you sounded drowsy and he took advanatge, "Wanna lie down and cuddle?"

"Mhm." You responded with a smile and he smiled so big, "Oh finally, jeez babes, you giving me blue balls or somethin'?"

His crude joke made you scoff out a laugh adn your smile slightly while your eyes focused at the keyboard, "Yeah, that's righttt...tttt...t. "

He lifted yoou from the chair and cradled you to the bed, making sure the comforter was on top of you before he got on. He made sure to dress well on for his pyjamas.

"That was pretty hardcore Babes, you okay?"

You nodded softly, "yeah, sorry about that." "It's fine babes, jsut careful. Don't want you shake your arms off your body- that's my job."

You managed to smile before it vanished which made him smile, "Close your eyes Babes, time to sleep."

"Alright, alright, goodnight Honey."

"Goodnight babes." and he kissed your cheek before cuddling against you.

A/N: This just happened to me, and well, you know, it was hard for me not to lose focus but also gain myfocus? That was super weird for me lol. Just a random story.

[dolls-self-ships]

1 and 5 for any f/o you want for the ask meme!!

How old were you when you & your F/O(s) first met? (Idk if you mean my irl age or the age I headcanon my self insert to be, so I'll save myself the trouble of trying to think of an age on the spot and just say when I started f/oing each character, I started f/oing when I was like 9 but I didn't know there was a name for it (I age up my self insert for adult f/os though to make everything, y'know, ☆~legal~☆) )

The character I still f/o today that I've had for the longest would have to be Cedric the Sorcerer. I developed a huge crush on him when I was 14 and to this day at the ripe old age of 17 I still simp. I have a self-insert/OC for him that I headcanon to be in her early 30's because Cedric is canonically in his late 30's (and I'm tired of women in media always being 20 years younger than their male love interests).

I started to f/o Beetlejuice when I was... I think 15? It was 2018 when I found out about the musical and decided to illegally stream a bootleg of it watch it for the first time and I got instantly wrapped up in how outgoing and flirtatious he was, he was the solidifier in my awful taste in men.

I became smitten with Spinel a while later last summer when the Steven Universe movie came out, so I was 16 going on 17. I didn't fall in love with her right away but I'm a huge nerd for vintage music and aesthetics so her 1930's feel and theme song grabbed me pretty quick, and then I began to feel the feelings during that fight scene at the end with Steven bc I like women who can fight and protecc 👉👈 I just fell in love with her more once I started reading all the imagines and x readers.

Iida's been kind of a background on/off f/o for me for about half a year. He has potential and I love him but I'm just not super invested in the show so it's hard to weed out content of just him (and maybe a few other characters I like).

And my latest f/o, Jervis Tetch aka the Mad Hatter (Batman's most iconic villain, I know) I started to f/o this past month. Or maybe two months, I have no concept of time anymore but I was 17 (and I still am!)

Does your F/O have any silly nicknames for you? Absolutely! Beetlejuice's default for me is "babes", but he switches it up once in a while with a "doll face" or a "baby cakes". If he's feeling it he calls me "hot stuff" which I can never recive with a straight face, I get all red and laugh.

Spinel likes the gushy mushy petnames like "sugar-baby-apple-pie" or "honey-bun" or "suga'". But her favourite thing to call me is "doll" ❤

Jervis is very much a Victorian Gentleman so he addresses me as "my dear" very often, he may switch it up sometimes with "my sweet" or "my love" which are more petnames than silly nicknames but still cute u//w//u

Cedric is all about cute petnames, uses the super sweet "we are definatelty a married couple" ones like "my dear", "darling", and "honey" ❤💞💗💖💕

Idk if Iida is about nicknames, but I don't imagine he would only call me by my name. Something mature and simple but still sweet, like "hun" or "darling".

[the--blackdahlia]

Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 47 (Dirt!Nikki x Reader)

Title: Too Young to Fall in Love 47

Summary: Nikki Sixx was a hard partying musician on the strip. He never expected to fall in love with anyone, until a girl knocked on his dressing room door looking for a ride home and took his breath away. Just like everything else Nikki did; the drugs, the money, the music; Nikki went hard with love. (Y/n) Bass never expected the bassist of Motley Crue to be the one to shake her calm and calculated life up. She had a plan. Graduate school, become an epic producer, and watch from behind the scenes as her brother’s band rose to fame. Nikki and (Y/n) were perfect for each other, too bad her brother, Tommy, didn’t think so.

Series warnings:  Smut (18+ Please), drug use, language, referenced miscarriage, drug overdose, mentioned attempted suicide, out of character moments for everyone in the band, the timeline might be a little screwy but it’s fanfiction! I know nothing of music production and my medical knowledge is really screwy, so it won’t be accurate.

“(Y/N), can you come into the office? I got to talk to you,” Nikki was getting the paperwork ready for (Y/n) to be the head of their own record label. Nikki smiled at what he did. He only hoped that she would be happy with the work he put in.  

“Hey babe, what’s up?” (Y/n) asked, coming in. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top. She had been giving the house a deep clean, because her mother and aunts were going to be coming by at some point to go over engagement party details. She thought she looked like a mess, Nikki thought she looked hot.

Nikki pulled her close and leaned her against the table, “you look hot.” he muttered against her skin. “But I have a surprise for you.” he pulled away for a moment and gave her a contract.

“What’s this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“You are the sole owner and the executive of Motley Records, although we might turn it into our own production company and label with other artists that we contract with.” Nikki shrugged with a smile.

“What? No. Nikki. I...this is yours. I can’t take that from you.” She went to hand the contract back to him.

Nikki shook his head, “it’s what you got your degree for and you are one of the best producers out there (Y/n). you are going to crush the competition and you are going to be a legend.” Nikki looked into her eyes, “You have worked hard for this babe.”

“But so have you. I wasn’t out there sweating off fifty pounds, lugging around a bass and dressing like Beetlejuice.” She smirked a little. Nikki knew how much she loved to tease them for past stage clothes choices.

“Then we can co produce, if it’ll make you happy but it’s your company and your business to run, you pick and manage the talent,” he smiled at her. She kissed him gently.

“Are you sure you want this?” She asked.

“To be the hottest producer to produce Motley Crue and be my awesome hot wife? Yeah I do.” Nikki pulled her into a hug and spun her around in the office.  

“I’m not the hottest producer.” (y/n) laughed, cuddling into his hug. “I told you when we first met that I’d make you rich.” She smiled at him.

“Oh baby girl and how,” he chuckled. “And I’m not talking about money.” he kissed her and placed her on the desk. “How do you feel about office sex?”

“You know, surprisingly, this is the only place we haven’t had sex in I think.” (Y/n) laughed.

“Well, might have to change that,” he said as he lay her on the desk.

They didn’t emerge until a knock could be heard from the door. Nikki and (Y/N) laughed as they got dressed. “Were we expecting anyone tonight?” he asked her as he helped her get dressed.  

“My mom and aunts said they might come by tomorrow, but mom said she’d call before they came by.” (Y/n) told him. “If it is them though, I better go get something ready to give them to eat and drink.”

“I’ll get the door,” Nikki gave her a quick kiss and sighed when he saw Mick. “You alien what are you doing here?” Nikki hugged him, “(Y/n) It’s just Mick!” he yelled out. He let Mick in and smiled. “(Y/n) is officially the crews producer and manager.”

“Really? About time!” Mick called out. (Y/n) smiled.

“Want something to drink Mick?” (Y/n) asked.

“I’ll have some water,” he smiled.

“Engagement party is coming up soon… by the way one of (Y/n)’s aunts digs you.” Nikki chuckled.

“Really now?” Mick asked with a laugh. (Y/n) came in with a water for Mick.

“At least she’s not the pincher.” (Y/n) laughed. “So, what’s up Mick?”

“Came to see how you crazy kids are doing and I noticed you got a new pupper,” he looked down at Jett. Jett rubbed up against him, loving the new guest. Ziggy stood by, watching. He knew Mick, but the older dog had grown protective of the new one.

“Yeah, that’s Jett.” (Y/n) laughed. “Who’s my sweet little girl?”

“Well you guys look super happy, so i’m going to go bother Vince and Nessa. I hear Nessa has him running all over the city for her cravings.”

“Surprised he hasn’t bailed honestly,” Nikki said. “He must really love her.”

“I guess so man,” Mick looked at him. “Oh you forgot to pick up your cheetah badge,” Mick gave him a badge that had cheetah spots.

Nikki blushed and chuckled, “Thanks Mick.” (Y/n) started to laugh.

“Okay, what’s this?” She asked. “I saw the other animal badges that you have on your messenger bag. What’s going on?”

“Just my way of promoting him from when he moved like a sloth with you,” Mick winked at her. “He’s made me proud.” He smacked Nikki’s shoulder and made his way to the door. “I’ll see you two crazy kids at the engagement party.”

“See you later Mick!” (Y/n) waved to him. She smiled as Nikki let him out.

***********

The Engagement Party

Nikki smiled as he said hello to all of (Y/n)’s relatives. There were a lot of people gathered around, mingling. Nikki had invited a few people from his side of the family, but not that many. He found Vince and Vanessa over to the side.

“Hey Nik.” Vanessa said, smiling. “Where’s your blushing bride?”

“Being fawned over by her cousins,” he smiled proudly at her, “She looks beautiful.”

“Kinda surprised you two just haven’t eloped already,” Vince laughed. “Waiting for Mick to revoke your cheetah badge.”

“Shut up,” Nikki punched his shoulder, “her parents want a big wedding and I know she wanted a beach wedding so that’s what we’re doing.”

“I don’t think she wanted a big wedding,” Vanessa said. “She always said she just wanted a small, quiet wedding. But I guess she doesn’t want to disappoint her family.”

“What?” Nikki looked at (Y/n) and tilted his head, “I’m going to go talk to her.” Nikki went to make his way over to her, but was blocked by family that wanted to talk with him. Some of her younger family wanted to talk to him about his music. He smiled politely and answered as bet he could, he was able to excuse himself and make his way to (Y/n).  “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Oh, yeah.”  They made their way to someplace quiet. “What’s up honey?”

“I want you to please answer me honestly,” he held her hands, “is the wedding at the beach something you want?”

“Yes, of course it is.” (Y/n) said. “I always wanted to get married at the beach.”

“I want to make you happy (Y/n), and I don’t want you to hate me for not giving you what you want,” Nikki caressed her cheek. “I’ve messed up so many times in our past that I don’t want to mess this up for you.”  

“Honey, we could get married anywhere. As long as I’m marrying you, I’m happy.” she smiled softly, but he noticed she looked tired.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he kissed her. “I love you (Y/n). I want your day to be special. I want it to be about you, not your family or anyone else just me and you and if a beach wedding won't cut it we can do something else.”

“I love you too Nikki. And I want the beach wedding.” She rested against him. “We have a house full of people. I think they’ll notice if I have to go to bed. I’m okay honey.” She shivered a little.

“Hun, we’ve been at this for hours and you need your sleep,” Nikki kissed her. “Besides I think you’re aunts would be happy to hear I’m taking you to bed.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, I don’t want them to think about us like that.” (Y/n) groaned. “It’s bad enough I had to keep Erato from trying to pounce on Mick.” She rested her head on Nikki’s shoulder.

Kissing the top of her head he smiled, “I want you to be happy sweet girl. And I am here to do that ok?” She smiled and nodded.

“You deserve to be happy too Nikki.” She told him.

“I am happy,” he kissed her, “Ok let’s go get fawned over and have some food then go to bed and work off the calories!”  (Y/n) just smiled and let Nikki lead her back inside the party. Thalia pinched his butt three more times by the end of the night.

“Do I need to check you for a bruise?” (Y/n) laughed.

“I think you just might,” Nikki smiled.

As the last guest left for the night, Nikki and (Y/n) found themselves on their couch and the aunts, Voula, and Athena helped clean up.

“I can help clean up.” (Y/n) yawned. “No big deal.”

“No you two rest!” Voula smiled. “Besides you cleaned up the house and we came and did this so we can pick up ok?”

“Okay, okay.” (Y/n) settled back down against Nikki. Ziggy laid by him and Jett laid in her lap.

Nikki held her close and kissed the top of her head, “This was a great party. I think I loved the dancing.”

“I’m glad you had a good time babe.” (Y/n) kissed his cheek.

**********

The next morning Nikki had headed out to the studio, leaving (Y/n) to prepare things for their new label. She worked on some things for a few hours, setting up a distributor and such. But she realized after a bit that they were very low on groceries, so she headed out to the store. She drove towards the new Target that wasn’t too far. As she walked up and down the aisles though, she felt like someone was watching her.

“Hello (Y/n),” a woman came up to her and smiled.

“Um...hi?” (Y/n) asked. “Can I help you? Do I know you?”

“I’m Deana Richards,” she smiled. “I’m Frankie’s mom.”

“I don’t know a Frankie.” (Y/n) said, knowing who she was talking about.

“I… I know he goes by a different name but he’s still my Frankie,” she gave a sad smile. “I was glad to see that he is doing better but he won’t call me or return my calls and… I really wanted to talk to him please?”

“I don’t think that’d be a good idea.” (Y/n) attempted to go around her.

“Please, you’re his nice girlfriend, the one he loves alot. I know you were with him back in 84 and I was sad that you broke up but I was so happy you got together again.” she smiled at her. “Please, I miss my Frankie.”

“Ma’am, Nikki has told me about things that happened. The step fathers that beat him while you stood by. The neglect, being shoved off onto his grandparents, going to more school than years he had been alive. So no, I’m not going to have him call you. If he wants to, he will. But I won’t make him.” She walked around her, going to grab some milk. Deana grabbed (Y/n)’s arm and her eyes widened at the glare she received.

“You know, my brother grabbed me that way,” (Y/n) hissed. “And I didn’t talk to him for months. What the hell makes you think you’re allowed to touch me?”

Deana let go quickly and walked away in a hurry. (Y/n) stood there for a moment, breathing heavy, leaning against the cart. She closed her eyes before finishing up her shopping and heading home.

****

One Week Before the Wedding

“Nikki? You home?” (Y/n) called out as she walked around the house. She sighed. He must have went to the studio for the day. She thought was going to help with the attic. With a shrug, she pulled down the ladder and headed up on her own to the boxes upstairs.

“This place is so dusty.” She said, shaking her head. “Gross.”

There nestled in a corner was a box labeled Diaries. From time to time (Y/n) would watch as Nikki wrote in his journals sometimes smiling, sometimes pensive. But when she would get near he would close it up and pull her in for a deep kiss. She wasn’t sure if she should touch it, but something was drawing her to them. Carefully she took out the top one and cracked it open to read it.

Hours later, she hadn’t cleaned a damn thing, but she had read his journals and something in her had changed. She knew it was her fault these things had happened to him. If she could’ve been better and stronger for him, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe he wouldn’t have felt the need to gorgue himself on drugs and booze. Or find women that looked like her. While a couple stories made her smile a little, like him running around naked during an earthquake, most of it made her sad and hate herself even more.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she was grabbing her keys and leaving the house, heading to the place that was like a second home to her. The Sunset Strip and the liquor store there that she used to go shopping for Tommy at when he got banned for screwing the owner’s wife.

Nikki came home and cracked his neck. He was working with a few artists and things were going well. With a smile he looked around and walked to the office.

“(Y/n)? You home?” he called out.walking all over the house he made his way upstairs and noticed the small steps to the attic. Going up he called out again, “(Y/n)? You up here?” he sighed when he realized she had asked him for help and groaned. He turned on the light and froze when he saw his box of journals. Some of the books were open on the ground and he closed his eyes, “Shit.”  

He looked at the dates of the ones she might have read and ran a hand across his face. She had read the ones from his heroine days, from his darkest days in his past. Taking a deep breath he dug around looking for the ones he knew he should show her. He grabbed his journals from when he first met her and the ones from after up until their break up. Climbing down he sat on the couch waiting for her, hoping that she would walk through the door.

But the hours went by and Nikki started to pace, his worry overcoming him. What if she wasn’t coming back? What if she had walked out again, thinking he was unfixable? He grabbed an apple, letting his paranoid brain take over and block out his logical brain. He picked up his phone and called Mick.

“What?” Mick answered.

“Is (Y/n) with you? I came home and she’s gone and I think I did something to screw it up and she’s leaving me again,” Nikki rambled.

“Why would she...Nikki, what’s going on? Why isn’t (Y/n) there?” Mick asked.

“She found my journals from ‘86 man,” Nikki breathed.

“Oh.” Was all Mick said. “Want me to go out and look for her? Maybe she went to Vanessa’s?”

“No, just I’ll call Vince’s and see if she’s there with Ness. Can you keep an eye out? She might come to you.” Nikki ran a hand across his face and grabbed another apple.

“Of course. Keep me posted.” Mick said before hanging up. Nikki dialed Vince’s number.

“Hey man. What’s up?” Vince asked.

“Hey man is (Y/n) there with Ness?” Nikki breathed. By now he was holding on to the countertop and his hands were shaking.

“Uh, no. I thought she was cleaning the attic today. She crawl through a wardrobe to a new world?” Vince chuckled.

“She read my ‘86 journals,” Nikki murmured. “I think she left me and I didn’t get a chance to explain them to her.”

“Oh shit.” Vince breathed. “I know it’s a long shot, but maybe she went to Tommy for some explanation?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Nikki nodded his head and closed his eyes. “He was on Zombie dust most of the time but I’m sure that he remembers some of it,” Nikki closed his eyes. “I’ll try Tommy see if she went to him.”

“Okay, let me know.” Vince told him. Nikki and him hung up and Nikki took a deep breath. That’s when his phone rang.

“(Y/n)?” his voice cracked hoping it was her on the other end.

“Uh, no. It’s Tommy.” Tommy told him. “I just saw (Y/n). She’s on the strip. Is everything okay?”

“What? Why would she go back there?” Nikki ran his fingers across his hair. “She read my diaries from ‘86. Tommy… I think she’s thinking about leaving me man.” Nikki’s voice seemed to break at the thought.  

“Nikki, she didn’t look good. She had Jack and I tried to stop her but she told me to fuck off. I lost sight of her head over to the old place.” Tommy explained.

“I’m on my way over, just try to find her if you do stick with her but don’t let her see you ok?” he looked to the journals and grabbed a few grabbing his keys with him.

“Okay. I’m heading over that way. I’ll call you if anything changes.” Tommy told him before hanging up. Nikki rushed over towards the strip, heading towards the Whiskey. Parking his car a block away he took wide steps towards the old apartment building. He saw her on the sidewalk. The bottle of Jack almost empty as she slumped forward. Taking a deep breath he grabbed his journals from when he met her and walked towards her.

“Sweet girl…” he murmured as he took a seat next to her. “Any reason why you ran over here?”

“Maybe if I came over here and… and… and talked to you in… in ‘83 and told you not…” she let out a small hiccough, “to fall in love with me, you wouldn't be so miserable.” (Y/n) whispered to him.

“Sweet girl… I was miserable when you left not when we were together,” he muttered as he placed his arm around her. “You were this light that came into my life and knocked me off my feet.” he breathed. “I just… I just kept going down a spiral because it was one I was on before I met you.”

“But all I did was let you down…” Thunder boomed in the distance, making her jump and knock over her bottle. “My drink…”

“You didn’t let me down… I let you down,” he held her face in his hands. “I let you down and I could never ever fix it. I hurt you in ways that I think have caused you all this pain you’re feeling.” he kissed her forehead. “Let’s get you home, come home please.”

“Why would you want me there? I ruin everything. We can’t even have kids because of me!” She started to cry then. Tommy pulled up then, having searched the block looking for her. Rain started to sprinkle, leaving dots on the sidewalk.

“We have two great kids named Ziggy and Jett,” Nikki smiled. “So we can’t have human kids… I’ll live.” he looked into her eyes full of sadness. “I can’t lose you again… please come home.”  

“Take me home. Please?” She whispered. Tommy walked up to them slowly.

“You guys okay?” He asked. “Need anything? I can drive her car back. Pamela is here. She can get mine.”

“I got her Tom, I guess I think her car is here, we might need to get that back to the house.” Nikki sighed. “I have a call to make and somewhere to take her day after tomorrow,”

“Where?” Tommy asked. (Y/n)’s head rested against Nikki as the rain started to fall.

“My therapist, Tom…” Nikki left it at that. As he drove off towards their house.

“Nikki?” (Y/n) whispered as they drove home. “‘M sorry.”

**********

The next morning Nikki made (Y/n) his special hangover breakfast. He never had to make it for a while but he sighed when he looked at how much pain she was in. He knew he caused it, and she was thinking she caused his. Placing the food on the tray he made sure to grab the bottle of aspirin before heading up stairs. With a deep breath he walked in just as she was beginning to stir awake.

“Morning,” he mumbled.  

“Morning.” She groaned, rubbing her eyes. “I’m never drinking ever again.”

“Here,” he chuckled, “best hangover breakfast and aspirin,” he smiled at her. “So…”

“So?” She looked up at him. “I’m really sorry.”

“I think we should talk about what you read,” he sighed. “Those were my darkest moments when you were gone…” he took a deep breath, “This is from when I first met you.” he handed her the journal and smiled. “I wrote a lot in my journals and… I think it gives you a bit of what I was going through before I met you, after I met you, and when we broke up.” he caressed her cheek. “You are the best thing that happened to me and nothing was your fault ok?” She carefully took the journal from him.

“You sure you want me to read this?” She asked, looking up at him. “I should’ve asked about the ones I read. I didn’t..I should’ve asked.”

“No secrets,” he smiled and kissed her forehead. “I have my own reading to do,” he said holding up her notebook. “I was really scared to read it… but I think I should.” getting up off the bed he gave her a kiss and smiled. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me ok?”

“Okay babe.” She smiled at him. “And Nikki?” She stopped him before he got to the door. “I still love you.”

“Love you too sweet girl,” he gave her a smile before closing the door and heading downstairs to the couch to read.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk @tommyleeownsme

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[obsessive-ego]

Just a nsft thing I've been thinking about

Musical Beetlejuice x reader

Reader has a vagina

You sit on the couch in your living room scrolling through tiktok, it's been a quiet day without Beetlejuice, he said a few days ago he had to do a thing in the netherworld, or something, so you've been taking advantage on the peace.

"Honey I'm home!"

Looking up from your phone you see the demon, the green smoke from his entrance beginning to fade off, not sure how he never set off the smoke alarm. The ghoul had a rather large toothy grin plastered across his face, his hair practically glowing green with flecks of pink, which was odd, he never came home from the netherworld happy, but you weren't going to question it

"Welcome back" you raise from you seat to greet him

"Ah ah" he chides and with a flick of his wrist you were back on your butt

You snort out a laugh and try to get back up, you couldn't

"Bee?"

"What a trip toots, you wouldn't believe the nonsense they put me through" Beetlejuice rambles as he drops his jacket and loosens his tie "I tell ya, your sweet rump was the thing that kept me going, knowing I get to come home to you" he rolls up his sleeves and kneels before you

"Oh" you breath

Beetlejuice take one of your legs at a time and places them on his shoulders

"I've been dreaming of this meal the whole time I was gone toots"

Beetlejuice snaps his fingers and your pants and underwear vanish

"Bon appétit♡" he purrs leaning in to your vagina, tongue leading the way

You press a hand against his forehead, stopping him

The demon's eyes move from your goods to yours

"Can I get please before you treat me like a whore?" You chuckle, a tad embarrassed over how forward he can be

Beetlejuice whines

"Please can I have dessert before dinner?"

"Okay-ah♡" the second you agreed his face was pressed into your crotch

[owostims]

Just curious, would you be able to post a current request list? I like to see what I have to look forward to! 😆

-Mhmm, of course! I’m honestly really appreciative ppl send me asks even though this is a blog I do on my own time and not super like. Tight schedule. It makes me feel really happy! Anyways, here’s the list (also sorry if it formats weird or smth i’ll try to fix it after it posts:

- trans pride dye and water slime board 

- medical science stimboard with no slime

- Espeon (from pokemon)

- netzach from lobotomy corporation with alcohol and rain

- Lau from Black Butler

- Naho Saenoki from Corpse Party (Liquids, fur, no honey and nail polish)

- clown 

- lighters turning on in slow mo and irl spinny things

- gay/rainbow samoyed stimboard?(no poking/trypo) (but paint soap carving slime)

- ball python

- vaporeon from pokemon

- honey and honeycombs

- genderfluid lovecore goth vampire stim

- Decepticon from transformers with purple colors and machinery

- Descole from professor layton

- victoria from Cats (semi cursed ask bc my friend sent this in like a week before the live action was announced)

- Selkie (celtic mythology)

- midna from loz twilight princess with glitter and calligraphy 

- juri from revolutionary girl utena 

- captain marvel 

- black, red, and white with knives

- the song In Iolite by GHOST

- Gonzo from The Muppets

- black/purple/red knife

- music with purple and no liquids

- noivern (pokemon) (bats flying and/or slime and soap carving with colors similar to it)

- foxes playing

- Beatrix Potter with watercolors/tea/rabbits

- penguin

- purple or purple and pink with glitter jars and water squishies

- Lee Mack with fidgeting 

- Phantom Manor

- Patton/Morality from Sanders Sides

- Cats the musical? (unsure)

- pink Immortal Tatsu (Gokushufudou)

- swamp

- fall/orange coloured

- Lydia Deetz (beetlejuice) with an animal in it

- green/black stimboard with cutting/candles

- chinchilla

- Sentret (pokemon)

- Emmaline/Coremma (emma from the promised neverland x coraline from coraline) with buttons, red flowers, cats, or anything else

-  peach x banana both from cookie run with lesbian (peach) and pansexual (banana) stuff

- moonlight cookie with like a bulgarian color scheme? (white,green,red)

- tropical themed with  tropical big leaves and pineapples

-  space aesthetic

- boy from Playdead's INSIDE

- cat themed

- toad themed

- faeries and toads and wicca

- Reigen Arataka (From Mob Psycho 100)

- Bi trans otacon with electronics and slime (from metalgear)

- Plants growing out of the cracks in the sidewalk aesthetic

- lightning (total drama)

- Green, yellow and purple Halloween

- trans related stim board, specifically slime/paint

- calico critters specifically soft stuff

- dr realist from stargirl and the illusory paradise

[demonwifey]

new oc.✨🍯🐝✨

What’s good, ya’ll? So a few weeks back I had this idea on Twitter to make demon OCs that were based off of insects (kinda like Beetlejuice). I realized this is the perfect time to bring out this babe for Beetlejuice OC week, and probably some more fics after that. Meet my newest fav, Honey B.!

Name: Nadine “Honey B.” Rowe

Age: 26

Ethnicity: Black 

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Pansexual

Height: 35 ft (default size), 5’2” (shrunken size)

Personality: Sweet but stern (mostly with Beetlejuice). Dominant and controlling. Short-tempered at times. She has a very evil queen mentality that can come at any moment. It’s like a switch in her head that she can’t help turn on or off. She does have the tendency to fall for someone very easily but gets scared that they won’t be around for long. 

Style and appearance: Lots of black, yellow, and dark brown. Often wears long sleeve button up shirts or jackets/blazers. Used to wear only jeans or leggings (like the first pic below) but now only wears shorts with fishnets and black heeled boots(main outfit is the one above). Always has the yellow garter that Beetlejuice gave her. Medium brown skin. Always has magenta lipstick on. She has black curly hair that she keeps in two buns with the rest down and a partial blonde bang. Translucent bee wings that change colors depending on her emotion. Rose and thorns tattoo that goes from her neck and chest down to her left arm. 

Bio: Honey B’s (mostly goes by Honey) life was pretty average. She was raised by a single mother in Chicago. Her mother gave her the nickname Honey B. because she would always liked to watch the bees in the backyard as a child. Her father wasn’t around but her mother was able to manage, along with the help of her grandparents. She managed through high school and college with good grades, before moving to California with a few friends and began working at an ad agency. 

Honey died one summer around the 1980s. She just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a crowded house party in L.A. Honey and her friends were just there to have a good time. Everyone was high and for a minute everything was cool. Until a big fight broke out about nothing. Honey was on the couch talking to a friend when she heard gunshots. Not even a second later she felt a sharp pain in her stomach. The last thing she heard was a friend screaming her name before everything went black. 

After making her way to the Netherworld, she was assigned to a company where demons would scare and haunt different homes. She started as an assistant though, handing out the assignments but not never getting to them herself. 

How did she get the whole ‘Queen Bee’ look and persona? By taking some demon potion she had no business touching. She already wanted to become a powerful demon anyway, it just came in a different form than what she expected. It was a potion mixed with bee pollen from flowers. Next thing she knew, she was growing 10 times her size and wings growing out of her back. 

Honey is a fairly new ghost, only being dead for a few hundred years in Netherworld time. Once she, for the most part, learns to control certain powers, she’s actually allowed to scare and haunt the living. Though she’s still put into a low position, that queen-like switch in her brain wants to be higher in the ranks. So she does everything she can to get there, until a certain green-haired demon interrupts her plans.  

Powers:

Size change: Female and queen bees can vary in size but often are bigger than the male bees. Honey’s new demon power makes her default size 35 feet tall but she can shrink herself down when needed; her default shrink size is 5’2”. Sometimes doesn’t have a handle on it and can go back to her bigger size if her emotions get too out of whack. 

Bee servants: Kind of like Beej’s clones, Honey has an army of demon bees she can control. They’re still like and look like regular bees but they act upon how she tells them. She’ll mostly use them to spy on whoever but she also can have them attack someone. 

Wings: Honey’s wings are the biggest conveyor for her emotions. They do change colors like Beetlejuice’s hair. Not only that, they buzz, vibrate, and flutter based off of her emotions too. The vibrating mostly comes when she’s excited/turned on. The buzzing comes when she’s angry or upset. The fluttering comes when she’s embarrassed. 

Fun facts:

Honey actually tastes like honey. If you’re a horny little shit like me, you know exactly what I mean. It’s a fun time for Beej is all I’m gonna say. 

Also, a friend and I came up with the ship name HoneyBeej for them👌🏽

[rexscanonwife]

More cartoon doodles! This was WAY too much fun to draw and I really love how it turned out 😍💕💕 including the color and greyscale versions!