#listen there's nothing overtly digusting in here but it is embarrassingly easy to tell what i like

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

i caught the writing bug again, but all it's allowing me to do is write chapters of my long, overly emotional nsft beetlelands fic. so well... here's that, I guess. you can start HERE, for clarity's sake, or just jump in and have fun.

Waking up in bed with BJ has its perks. For one, she’s always wrapped up in a hug, which makes her feel loved, and special, and for another, he’s soft, and warm. Cuddling with him can be a cozy trap, however, because it does have the added effect of making it difficult for her to actually leave his bed. Once or twice, she manages, only to be gently caught around the stomach by an extra arm he’s sprouted from the mattress, and pulled back into laying against him, so he can kiss her good morning, before they both finally manage to extract themselves from the comfort of each other.

One morning, five months pregnant, she wakes up to her thighs clenching around something, and blinking sleep from her eyes, it takes her a moment to understand it’s his head, and that the fantastic sex dream she’d been having had some very real world causation behind it. She feels his long, inhuman tongue twirl around her clit, and then gently tug it, jerking her nub like a dick, and she responds with a low moan, before reaching down, below the sheets, and playing with his hair. She hears BJ growl, and then his voice in her ear. He’s explained that trick- he’s throwing his voice, to still be heard, as he continues lavishing her. “Too hard?” he asks, and she gives a sleepy, lustful sigh, and takes her time responding, just enjoying the attention. “Just right,” she tells him. She feels her body clench around nothing, in anticipation, and lets out a little whine. “I want…” Despite being a woman who has sex and is pregnant, asking for what she wants still flusters her. But both her partners know, by now. He lifts his head, lifting the sheet with it, and while she can’t see his smile, she hears it. She also knows him well enough to know he’s using his inhuman tongue to lick her slick from his chin. “I gotcha, Babs.” He comes crawling up, from under the sheet, until his sweet, unglamoured chubby face appears, and he kisses at her swollen stomach, and then up, to her chest, her neck, her shoulders, and then to her mouth. She can taste herself on his lips, which she finds disgusting in a way she likes. He’s rubbing off on her, apparently. “Good morning, mommy,” he grins, pulling away, and she grimaces, and pinches his left nipple, hard, which only makes him close his eyes and give a girlish moan of pleasure. “Ahh, babes, ya tease me so good.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders as he kisses her again, and she runs her tongue along his sharp teeth, appreciating that he’s showing himself to her. He’s still nervous to do it, most of the time, but waking up to him like this is becoming more common. He reaches down, slicks himself in her, and pushes in. The stretch, by now, is familiar. He’d learned sex while pregnant is apparently helpful for the delivery, and that’s been his excuse for jumping her like a dog in heat, even though she’s done the reading, and knows it’s helpful the closer to the actual delivery date, which is still months away. But she can’t argue with how much she enjoys it. He pushes, further and further, until their hips are touching, her legs spread, his soft, fat stomach resting on top of her’s, and she moves her hands from around his shoulders, to rub at his gut. “My cuddle bug,” she sighs, softly, as he breaks away from their kiss to nibble at her neck, kissing over still fresh love bites, and making more. “I love your tummy. Just wanna squish it all the time.” When BJ lifts his head, she can see from his expression that she’s flustered him- not an easy feat. He can dirty talk like no one’s business, but she and Adam have caught on that it’s emotional sincerity that makes his pale face go a pretty shade of purple. They stay like that, him inside of her, her arms wrapped around him, a sweet little moment between them. She’s whispering words of love in his ears, and he’s going pink from the tips of his hair all the way down to his bush, presumably. Watching him flush like this is adorable, and it always makes her smile. Odd as it is to say, it feels romantic, to be connected like this, and be in no rush to do anything. She’s just enjoying his weight on her. He’s enjoying being as close to her as is physically possible. He rubs his cheek against her’s, which makes her giggle, a little, before he starts to move. It’s slow, and lazy, shallow little thrusts that make her huff and sigh. No big dramatic hip slamming, no headboards banging against the wall, it’s more like a sweet little good morning fuck. They don’t tend to be that loud in the Deetz house, anyway… There’s nothing more mortifying to her than the idea of being “caught” by his family, even though they’re all clearly aware that the three of them are physically together. BJ’s hand gently rubs at her visibly pregnant stomach. Yes, everyone is very aware.

“Babs,” BJ groans, softly, in her ear, and she responds by kissing the pointed tip of his ear back, turning her head to do so. “Beetlejuice,” she says, breathy, dreamy, so in love nothing else seems to make sense, and he groans again. His pace picks up a bit, and her hips rise to meet his, as best she can. His slow, gentle adoration of her is so romantic, something he’s not, usually, because he’s normally such a chaotic goofball, and she’s reveling in it, enjoying his unfiltered attention, and the little noises he’s making.

The smell of cigarette smoke fills the room.

BJ jumps like he’s been tased, and pulls out of her, spinning to look around, amber eyes darting from corner to corner of his bedroom. Barbara huffs, face red, peak that had been approaching left annoyingly unresolved. “Hey, get back in here,” she teases, pressing her foot to his chest, and he turns to look back at her. She doesn’t miss the way the pink at the tips of his hair has gone purple, but she doesn’t know what the color means. Pink is love, red is angry, and green is default. She’s not seen purple on him, before. “BJ?” she asks, concerned. He grabs her ankle and kisses at her foot. She squeals and involuntarily kicks, both at the feeling of scruff at her feet, and how gross that is. “Sorry, mommy,” he smiles, with those big shark teeth on display, and she reaches out her arms to him. He falls into them, and they resume, but he seems distracted in a way he wasn’t, before. At least she reaches her peak, whimpering into his shoulder as she clenches around him, and he responds in kind, emptying into her in a way that makes her feel dirty and satisfied. read in full right here