#myownfic

[loyalnprecious]

A third moodboard for my on-going fic on Ao3 “Map of the Soul” as I’m posting its 10th chapter!

I never expected this story to be that epic (and that big!) but I love writing it so much! 💖I’ve become quickly attached to the characters and the places. And we’ll be travelling some more! 🛫

[disasterlesbiansunite]

Just Two Things: A Young Royals Fix-It Fic

His mama had stood over him as she began talking. Wilhelm could hardly focus; the vision of the video (his video, his and Simon’s video, the video of Simon) burned into his brain on a constant loop. She hadn't asked him if he was alright, not yet, but he had stopped expecting her to early on in life. Duty first, he guessed, as usual. She pulled away and off the bed, rattled off the words about the interview he’ll do to protect the royal family et cetera, et cetera.

“I don’t want you to see Simon for the time being,” she said, and he glanced up, suddenly feeling like his world is fell away underneath him. He wished Erik were here, that Erik was still alive. If he were, then maybe this would all go away. He doubted any of it could now.

--

August brought him dinner that night when he’s too exhausted to even leave his bed. He said that Erik would want Wille to be himself - but how is August so sure of what Erik would want him to do to fix this, to just get this whole shitshow over with, when the only person who knows that is six feet under.

“Follow your heart, really.” August said. “Follow your heart.”

If anything his heart only thought of two things at the moment. One is the crumpled up rage he feels that’s been broiling under his skin since he saw the video; the screaming, panicked wild thing that wants to shout at the world and watch it shouts back until no part of him remains, no crown prince, nothing.

The other part of his brain thought of Simon. Holding him, soft and warm until his skin, kissing his neck and inhaling as much of him as possible. Kissing him, kissing Simon, an exhilarating feeling he can’t describe, he won’t ever be able to describe. Almost all of the girls he had kissed had kissed gently and slowly, like they were afraid he would disappear right next to them. It always felt like he was being kissed by air, a ghostly possession that was over in a second and just as uncomfortable.

He would have thought that Simon would kiss like that, he had thought Simon would kiss like that, Simon had kissed like that, before they really truly got to know one another. Now, Simon kissed hard and rough, like he knew Wilhelm wouldn’t disappear but just as quick, aware he couldn’t have him by himself ever. Simon’s kiss had the edge of sandpaper, tough grit and fine smoothness rolled into one. Simon kissed for the sake of it, like there was so much he wanted to do to Wille, do with Wille, that he simply couldn’t function enough to do anything but kiss him. Wille fell asleep soon after that, dinner discarded. He wondered if the last time they would ever kiss would be the time that caused both of him to want to recoil from society and away from the world. A part of him hoped so.

The nail on his thumb was raw and bleeding.

--

As he walked through Hillerska, everyone stared at him in pity. He was used to the stares, used to the way his simple presence shut up people around until all they could do was give him a dumb look. It was pity that was new to him, but he tried not to focus on that as Malin rushed with him to his first class of the day. He knew the things they were saying, drove himself insane as he googled himself over and over again, watching Sweden’s trending page unravel until it felt like it was all over. He watched as Simon walked into their classroom, turning heads for once in his life. Once except for the amount of times he had his, of course. He mindlessly made small talk with his classmate, but all he could think of were two things.

After class he rushed into the locker room to talk to Simon. He looked sullen, his features that were generally framed in a light source of their own were moody and dark, an awkward, ill fitting portrait. He wanted to kiss it all away. Instead, kicked at Simon’s foot, hooking the two into a game of footsie.

“What the hell are we going to do?” Simon asked, wrapping his hands around Wilhelm’s, as if he had any of the answers. Breaking news, he didn’t. All he could do was sit in silence and hold Simon, it felt like the only thing he could do. Unless…

“They’ve asked me to deny it was me in that video.” He could barely get the words out.

“Serious?”

Wille hummed, unable to interpret that reaction. “They want me to make a statement at the castle on Saturday.”

Simon turned, his head moving off of Wille's shoulder in a way that feels entirely unwelcome. Put that back please. Wille had realized that he could only really function anymore in Simon’s arms. As if he wasn’t touch starved enough, but Simon was hot and didn’t mind so it didn’t really matter. “But you’re not going to do it, right?”

“I don’t want to say anything.” Simon doesn’t get it, but Wilhelm doesn’t expect him too; too impossible to explain.

“But, Wille, everyone can see that it’s me in that video,” Wille groaned. He had forgotten that slightly important detail. Simon continued, “What am I supposed to do? But no matter what, they can’t dictate what you say,” Yes, they absolutely can, they’ve done it before.

We haven’t done anything wrong.” He had forgotten that too, spending so much time yesterday going over consequences and contingencies ranging from plan A to Z it made his head bled. But no one had actually told him that they hadn’t done anything wrong. Not even August, with his love is love attitude that came out of nowhere. Not even fucking him.

--

Mama had been waiting for him. Mama had met Simon. She never looked twice at Wilhelm, veiled disdain souring her mouth as she stared out the window.

“What? Why can’t I just have a relationship with him? And not say anything. Just live a normal life.” He knows why. He just wants to hear her say it.

“You’re the crown prince.” And there’s the world crashing back down onto him. “And that’s a privilege, not a punishment.” It’s both actually, but whatever, mama.

“Yes, but I didn’t ask for this!” Erik should be here. Erik would know what to do.

“Well, nobody has ever, ever asked for this,” his mama shot back. He feels like a little kid again, feels like biting his thumb raw. “You’re the only one who can take over the throne after Erik. Don’t you understand that?” He wished she would just look at him.

“You’re so young. When you’re young love feels like the most important thing in the world. When I was your age, I too had an unfortunate romance.” He wants to laugh or cry or release that panicked, clawed, anxious feeling that’s always been trapped underneath his chest, beating his heart faster and faster and faster. Unfortunate romance, she said, like Simon isn’t the best thing to happen to him, like Simon wasn’t the only one holding him together, like Simon wasn’t the only real thing in his world.

He snapped back into the conversation.“Is it worth it,” she continued. “If you feel that the attention you’ve been getting so far is unacceptable, it’s nothing compared to what you will endure for the rest of your life. We have a chance to cover this up. I urge you to take this chance. You may not get another.”

With Simon on one shoulder, and his mama and the world on the other, it turns out he was going to make the statement after all. Fucking great.

--

He felt like throwing up, but, to be fair, when hasn’t he.

“Are you ready?” His mama asked, like he could ever be ready to announce to the world, no that definitely was not me in that tape and that boy is definitely not the love of my life, thank you very much.

He dragged his feet, as he went into the room where Rosenqvists sits. Like Mama said, they only have one chance to not fuck this up.

Rosenqvist smiles at Wilhelm, her eyes hawkish. He musters as much of a smile as he can, playing with the buttons on his suit as the photographer directs the two around.

“It’s good to see you again, your highness.”

His eyes darted around the room. He could hear his mama and papa argue in the room they were in

“You too.”

The interview began then, menial questions about his existence that made him want to bite at his thumb. He resisted, knew that if Rosenqvist saw how his anxiety was surging through him like a freight train and mentioned it in her interview, his mama would be more angry then she already was. The questions are simple really, he barely thought about the answers and more about how Erik would have phrased them. Not like Erik would have been in this situation.

“So, Wilhelm, we both know why we’re here.” She smiled apologetically at him. Here we go. “As you are, no doubt, aware of by now there was a video from Hillerska that is going viral of what is rumored to be yourself and another male student,” she paused for a moment, uncomfortable with the what she’s about to say to a boy she’d been interviewing for most of his life, “being intimate. What do you have to say about these rumors, Crown Prince Wilhelm?” She’s less probing, then. He can tell his mom already prepped her on how exactly this interview needed to go. Fuck.

“That’s not-” his words got stuck in his throat.

“That’s not you in the video?” She filled, looking more and more saddened with each word, more maternal that he thinks he’s seen anyone in his entire life. He wanted to nod, wanted to do what his mama wanted for him, wanted to listen to what she feels is best for their country, because it is theirs now, isn’t it? Erik is dead and gone and never coming back no matter how much Wilhelm wishes he had been able to keep him alive. Wilhelm doesn’t exactly know much about what it takes to be king, not like Erik did, but he’s pretty sure a leaked tape is one thing a king is not supposed to have on his record. Wilhelm should want to deny the rumors, so why does it feel like every time he tries to open his mouth that it’s filled with cotton, that panicked wild thing grabbing hold of his brain and shaking it like his snowglobe. It’s begging him to choose the path of least resistance. And then there was Simon. Simon with his pretty soft voice and his even softer lips. Simon with his kind eyes and hands and just Simon, Simon, Simon. Simon, who has already been broken by the video and if Wilhelm denies their relationship then he’ll only break more. The only things he can think about. Just two things. Two things he can’t seem to choose between.

He took a deep breath. Erik would have wanted him to follow his heart, would have said that that would be how he becomes a great king. By being kind and good, and wholly himself.

He chose.

--

Simon’s mama shouts for a rematch as he laughed into his snack.

Ayub tensed next to him, “Oh, shit.”

“What’s up?” Simon asked, confused. Did his dad ask him to go home or something?

Instead, Ayub read from his phone: an online copy of this week’s Göteborgs-Posten screenshotted and reposted to Twitter. “The Crown Prince addresses rumors of Viral Video.”

“What?” He could have sworn Willie had said he wouldn’t do the interview. His mom and Sara exchange glances.

Ayub read on, “While the Royal Court denies rumors that the Crown Prince appears in the video that has gone viral this past week, his royal highness Prince Wilhelm goes more in depth on his time at Hillerska and the events surrounding the video. He says, ‘I started at Hillerska to focus on my studies and have kept to that.’ At this moment, the prince pauses and grows quiet.

‘That’s not the entire truth. The truth is that that is me in the video. I do not know who took it or why but the facts remain the same. There are many people who would want me to not address the rumors surrounding me at this time, and some even would want me to outright deny them, but I disagree. If I am to be king, and no matter what happens from this I will be king, I want to be the kind of king the people can be proud of, the kind of king my brother would have been, and the kind of king that if he saw me he’d be proud of. And that starts by being genuine and being myself to the citizens of Sweden and to the world.’ ‘Everyone should be allowed to live as gay or straight or whatever they want,’ says the Crown Prince. ‘And I suppose the former includes me, but I would still like this time to decide further who I am and what kind of king I will be.’”

Simon is stunned. Of all things, he didn’t think of this as even an option. He fishes his phone out of his pocket.

To Wille: just read the interview, what. the. fuck.

From Wille: Is that a good “what. the. fuck!!!” or a “bad what. the. fuck?!?”

To Wille: you’re so brave, wille, thank you

To Wille: also according to ayub youre trending as “gay king wilhelm” on twitter rn

From Wille: Fuck yeah, bow down to your king. Meet me before school starts tomorrow, courtyard?

To Wille: see you then, gay king willie

As Simon approached the school - having already been stopped by four journalists, three photographers, two nosy neighbors and one blogger - he could see as Wille nervously paced at the edge of the courtyard, his hand rubbed deep into his chest, shirt creasing around it. Simon couldn't even begin to imagine what had happened in the palace after Wille’s interview. From what he saw the queen didn’t really strike him as the accepting type, but that was one of those things he’d let Wille discuss on his own time. He snuck up behind Wille instead, held his arms and kissed his neck.

“Hello, my prince,” he said and twirled Wille around and into his arms. Wille let out a little sigh of relief and if he could have held Willie there for forever he would. Wille smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek.

“Can we just go one day Simon without having your weird relationship issues making a scene,” Sara huffed past and quickened her pace to the school. Simon hadn’t noticed the stares, it felt like everyone in the courtyard had been watching them from Felice to August to other boarders Simon couldn’t name, but that had definitely called him names. Simon can’t bring himself to care anymore.

“I’m so proud of you, Wille.” Wilhelm let out a little noise, the only amount of negative emotion that being schooled on refinement since before he could talk would allow. He grabbed at Simon’s coat and drew him in for a hug.

“I love you,” Wille said and suddenly Simon’s whole world had shrunk down to three words.

Wille quickly ended the hug and walked towards the school, his bodyguards following quick after. Simon speed walked up to him and grabbed his hand, “I love you too.” Wille broke out into that tiny golden smile Simon loved to tease out and grabbed Simon’s hand.

The stares followed but Simon didn’t care. “Just two things left,” he said, “Get through this last day before break and then find whoever took that video.”

“And then?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,”

Wille hummed and played with Simon’s as they settled at the doorway of their first class of the day, “You might want to work on your plans.”

“No, my plan only needs those two things.” Simon messied with Wilhelm’s hair and strolled into the classroom.

Wille followed after one hand fixing his hair, the other clutching at Simon’s hand, muttering, “Just two things?”

Just two things.

[rahmaisu]

Tora x Saga Fic (A9)

Hey guys! I know I never announce this fic in tumblr but I’m currently working on a Tora x Saga fic called ‘Sheer Perfection’! It’s on Chapter 9 now and I hope ToSa shippers out there would like this! xo

http://archiveofourown.org/works/6929083/chapters/28908522

[ore-wa-makenai]

{ another cat }

@az004 Feliz cumpleaños a tu estúpido y sensual Kageyama, ahjbss-- planeé un post y salió esto¿? Espero que te guste y y y lo disfrutes, tiene referencias de el hermosillo oneshot que hiciste para mí y y y y que te guste ;; ¡Feliz cumpleaños, Kageyama!

La primera vez que mencionó su idea de obsequiarle un gato, Kageyama no parecía del todo convencido; su expresión se volvió sombría y pareció que en cualquier momento sus cejas iban a encontrarse en el centro de lo fruncido que tenía el ceño- no había entendido su referencia, eso estuvo claro. Mirándolo ahora, y dada la expresión en su rostro, uno pensaría que sostenía un balón entre las manos en lugar de un pequeño gato perezoso. Hinata diría que lo había convencido con creces.

— Y dijiste que jamás iba a quererte —comentó desde el sofá en medio de la sala, recostado sobre su estómago y usando ambas manos como apoyo para el rostro.

Kageyama, desde el suelo, y con un pequeño minino negro acomodándose para dormir sobre su pecho, le dedicó una mirada curiosamente cálida para unos ojos tan azules.

— Tú lo viste, en un principio no hacía más que arañarme —justificó su punto de vista con una calma que parecía estar fuera de personaje.

Hinata lo vio acariciar distraídamente la cabeza del animalio y no evitó la sonrisa de sus labios.

— Oh, en un principio puede que hagan eso..., pero eso no significa que no vayan a quererte luego.

Kageyama le dedicó una mirada amenazante -por fin-, para enfrentar la suya significativa. Y aunque azul y castaño se enfrentaron por varios segundos, no hubo un ganador al final de la ronda.

— Lo hiciste a propósito —constató el armador, y oh, Hinata sabía a lo que se refería.

— ¡Por supuesto que no!

— ¿Gato negro de ojos azules?

— Yo o decido lo que traerán a la tienda de mascotas...

— Lo llamaste Tobi, boke —Y ese era un buen punto.

— ¡Es que son iguales, Kageyama!

Por admitir eso en voz alta, se ganó un cojín en la cara. Para colmo, con todo y el movimiento, el gato no despertó.

Quizás fue el ronroneo pausado del pequeño gato, o que habían pasado la tarde dándose algunos pases cerca del canal, pero ambos permanecieron unos deliciosos minutos en completo silencio, disfrutando del estar allí, la compañía y la tranquilidad que se respiraba.

Fue entonces que afloró:

— Feliz cumpleaños, Tobio.

Sin algún tipo de señal, sin necesidad de coordinarse con anticipación, Kageyama se levantó sosteniendo al animalillo por completo en una de sus amplias manos, y Hinata e inclinó hacia abajo desde el sofá, las manos sirviendo de apoyo sobre la gamuza del mueble, hasta que consiguieron encontrar sus labios en un beso como muchos otros antes, pero que aún así conseguía remover todo en su interior.

— Ya te habías tardado.

El sol brilló en la sonrisa amplia que le dedicó tan despreocupadamente el pelirrojo, ocultando apenas sus ojos con el gesto.

— Seré más rápido la próxima vez.

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

A true honour to write with you my dear @ironmansuucks ... ur the best. Enjoy lovelies. 🧡

🧡Orange Kisses Part 2🧡

dewey finn x reader

heyoo my guys!! this is part two to mines and @thewolfisapartofmysoul​ little dewey finn x reader fic!! this is a super cute and fluffy piece and we hope you all love it hehe🥰

Are you lost?

Orange kisses Part one

and as always this beautiful aesthetic was made by the amazing @thewolfisapartofmysoul​

Lees verder

[bubblieywubbliey]

Evan x Reader - Stage Fright (SMUT)

Hey! Sorry for the lack of updates but here is my most recent fic!! It's a request for Evan x reader to help with evan's pre-performance anxiety :) sorry if there are mistakes I was pretty sleepy writing this towards the end but I wanted to get it out! I have made some edits since publishing to make it longer and more coherent (there were some perspective issues because I was so sleepy when I finished it off - pun intended) :)

Mumbles floated around you as you all sat on the stage, curtains drawn, chatting before the evening showing of chicago. You turned to feel Evan tapping on your shoulder. You looked up to see Evan in his costume, a white shirt unbuttoned so his chest hair was visible with black trousers and you were a little turned on when your eyes reached his face and you saw the beard he had grown out for the role, in order to look older.

“Sup babe?” You asked, noting the worried expression on his face. 

“Oh, uh, just stressed, can we go sit in the hall?” He looked at you pleadingly.

“So what’s the stress?” You asked, turning so that you were sat leaning against the wall.

“God I’m just, I’m worried that- no it’s stupid, it’s not your job to manage my anxiety...” he stopped himself, sighing, he really had matured since you guys started dating.

“Of course it isn’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna support you!” You take his hand and beam up at him.

"I'm just stressed that I'm gonna, I'll screw up being Billy Flynn? I'm not like that and I'm scared that I'll be awful when it's in fron of the crowd."

"Evan, you'll be perfect and if you aren't no one will care, okay?" Evan nodded and you took his hands. "Now, did that help with your stress about this?"

"A little?" You smiled and he smiled back, a boyish grin covering his face. “What?” You ask, a light questioning tone in your voice as he grins. He pulled you to your feet before responding.

“Well there's 20 minutes before I need to be in hair and makeup... You know what would help me stop being so anxious?” Your eyes widen and you giggle a little, already slightly turned on by his confidence.

“Oh? What would that be, Mr. Hansen?” Smiling you traced your finger up and down his chest, the two of you giggling, you were so close you could feel his breathe on your lips. Your finger trailed down past his bellybutton and to the waistband of his black trousers. He looked down and then back up at you, shyness overcoming him, you pressed your lips to his and he sighed into the kiss as his anxiety faded away, his hands coming to rest on your waist. You pushed your hand into his waistband and he gasped into the kiss as you wrapped your hands around the base of him. You pushed him up against the wall and broke the kiss to begin gently biting his neck.

"W-wait here?? We-we're in the hallway, Y/N! There are dressing rooms you kno-" Evan stuttered and groaned as you began to slowly pump him inside his trousers, cutting him off. "No one's gonna come though here..." You mumble into his neck as you kiss up from him collar bone, his white shirt was already unbuttoned to show some of his chest for his outfit. "For at least 20 minutes, right?" You stroked the side of his face, feeling the roughness of his beard.

"Y-Yes probably- ah!" He gasped as you increased your pace, sucking harshly on his neck."Y/N I can't have any... god, fuck... I can't have any hickies..." He was breathing heavily, his fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric of the vest you're wearing. "Sounds like hair and makeup's problem." You whispered and and yanked his trousers and boxers down roughly in one go and licking a stripe up his length.

"A-ah! Y/N!" Evan nearly yelled, looking around the hallway to see if anyone was coming. He covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to subdue his own noises, he was not used to having to be quiet when you guys had sex and whenever you did anything in public it was usually him teasing you. You sucked on the tip of his dick, tracing patterns on it with your fingers as you sucked. He let out small muffled sounds and you looked up at him, excited at the fact that you could make him feel like this. You released him with a pop and he almost sighed in relief before you took him into your mouth again, but this time all the way.

"Ah!" he yelled, unable to contain himself and you deep throated him, your hand wrapping around the parts you couldn't reach. Evan glanced around to check no one was coming before tangling a hand in your hai r.

"Y-Y/N I'm so close..." He panted and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He let out another groan at the image below him, your mouth wrapped around his dick, eyes closed as you focused on making him feel good, but he didn't fail to notice that one hand was inbetween your thighs, rubbing gently. "I'm so fucking lucky holy shit!" He gasped as he approached his orgasm. He pulled you up and kissed you, kissing down your neck as you continued to jerk him off eith your hands. His hips shake as he nears his end and you gasps as he bites down lightly on your neck, sucking it

Suddenly there was a clattering at the end of the hall and voices echoed around the corner from the direction of the dressing rooms.

"S-Shit!" Evan gasped and pulled his shorts up. You attempted to make yourself look a little presentable after Ev had messed up your hair by flattening it down and running your fingers through it. "U-uh Y/N oh my god I-I still have a... A you know, what do we do? It's really visible these pants are too fuckin tight." Evan cursed and you turned to see a rather noticeable bulge in his pants. 5 minutes ago the concept of this was very exciting but now it was a clear sign as to what you'd been up to.

"Uh, behind the stage?" You posed the hiding spot and Evan, starting to panic a little, nodded and you dragged him back towards the stage. Everyone was out on the actual stage and you pulled Evan into the broom closet behind the curtains instead of going out to join everyone else. Evan breathed a heavy sigh of relief as you both leaned against the wall of the closet.

"T-That was way too close! You almost got us in some serious trouble Y/N." He said and you laughed, his face was bright red."That was really irresponsible, why can't you behave?"

"Now, shall we solve this problem?" you ignored his reprenmand, assuming he couldn't actually be annoyed with you. "I think we've ended up making you more stressed, haha!" You sniggered and reached over to pull his face into yours, just as you did you noticed Evan's facial expression was nearer to a frown than the embarassed laugh you had expected. He didn't say a word, just pressed his lips harshly against yours and you let out a muffled squeak of surprise as he immediately forced his tongue into your mouth, pulling your mini skirt up a little so one hand was on your waist and the other was pushing roughly against your clothed clit. His beard brushed against your skin and your breath hitched at the sensation. You couldn't help but let out more yelps, leading Evan to grunt out a quick "you better stay fucking quiet." as he groped you roughly, pulling your panties aside and dropping to his knees. He didn't say anything like he did when he was drunk and rough, this was different, he was quiet and dominant, which was somehow hotter. He licked up your slit and you yelped before covering your mouth.

"Stay quiet." He said, clearly. You nodded and he turned you around to have you holding on to the shelves, ass in his face. "We have 12 minutes." He added as he checked his watch before pushing a finger into you, pumping in and out you could barely breathe due to all the whimpers that you were holding in. You grunted and gasped as he pounded you with just one finger, curling it so it touched the spongy flesh at the top of your vagina, hitting your g spot hard. He added another finger then another, pushing in and out with his tongue still on your clit until you came, gasping as questly as you could in order to evade detection. You were soaking and recovering from your orgasm, leaning into the shelves with your ass still on the air. Before you'd even figured out what was going on Evan was sucking hard on your neck, his trousers were on the floor and he was grinding against you. You gasped as your body spasmed a little from the over stimulation and having something inside you so suddenly after orgasming. Reached around and grabbed your arms, holding them behind your back while guiding the tip of his dick into you, you inhlaed sharply. Had he gotten bigger? God it felt like it. He wrapped his hands around your neck, applying gentle pressure to your throat.

Shocks of pleasure fly up your spine as you gasped with every thrust, pushing back against him, revelling in his grunts of pleasure and the feel of his fingers on your throat, applying the perfect amount of pressure. He released your hands and let you lean back and tangled his fingers in his hair, roughly increasing his tempo, his hips rutting against your and the sound of your skin slapping together along with the accompanying sting that was perfectly the border of pain and pleasure made it clear that you would have bruises tomorrow. He reached around with the hand that wasn't around your neck and rubbed your clit roughly, just a couple of times, but enough to send you over the edge, the feeling of you spasming around him was heavenly and he gasped and groaned as you tightened unconciously. He pulled out for a second to let you recover before easing the tip in as your entrance continued to spasm uncontrollably, his hand still rubbing your clit, stimulating you beyond your orgasm. It took everything in you not to scream out his name, instead opting to silently gasp his name over and over.

"Ev..." You groaned as he pushed all the way in. He pulled back and then pushed in again as you leaned back to kiss him roughly, hardly able to breathe due to the barrage of pleasure being caused combined with his hand around your throat. Evan faltered slightly in his pounding and whispered sweet nothings and and grunting, gasping out your name, how beautiful how tight you are for him. He let out a whimper and you knew he was cumming soon. You gasped into his mouth as he pumped in and out at increasing speeds, your fingers tugging his hair causing him to groan, his head dropping to rest in the crook of your neck as he was overwhelmed with pleasure.

He was pounding so hard that you knew you'd have bruises, reaching around your hips to rub your clit hard to bring you there again and it worked, you were teetering on the edge of your orgasm as he licked up your neck, then kissing your collar bone and leaving lovebites along your neck. He hit a few final thrusts as your orgasms hit both of you and your body shook uncontrollably and it took everything you had not to scream his name. Evan grunted softly as he came into you, thank god for birth control. He was still balls deep inside you and you held him there for just a second, unable to handle anymore movement in that moment.

"Jesus Christ Evan." You whispered, still gasping from your third orgasm in the span of 20 minutes.

"Sorry, was that too much?" Evan asked worriedly.

"That was fucking great Evan, if anything is too much you know I'd say so." Evan nodded and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. He pulled out roughly and you spasmed again because of the overstim. You grinned as you got dressed, adjusting your shirt and hair, fixing his too, you found some wipes on the shelf and cleaned yourself up, it wouldn't exactly look great if you started leaking cum everywhere would it? Now you were both dressed and you both stepped out of the closet and peeked around the edge of the curtain where people were finishing their dinner.

"Where were you guys?" Brooke turned around to see you walking in on slightly shaky legs.

"Oh us? Evan was just a little anxious so I took him for some fresh air to calm down.

Brooke looked at your shaky legs but you sat down before she could comment on it. Zoe was also sitting next to Brooke as she made a final adjustment to her costume. "Mmh. Okay well Evan you need to be in hair and makeup, your hair is a mess. And you look kinda sweaty. Also you have red splotches all up your neck that we'll need to cover." Evan blushed a bright red, glancing at you and you looked away, trying not to laugh out loud. He glared at the back of your head before answering. Zoe made eye contact with you and you grinned at her, blushing and she spluttered a laugh before muting it with her hand. "Ah yeah... I um, I..? I had an... allergic reaction!" he almost shouted as he figured out a reasonable lie, he was never very good at it. "I had an allergic reaction to something earlier, didn't realise that um... That cheese crackers had actual cheese in them?" He fumbled through the lie and Brooke raised her eyebrows, looking at you both. "Right..." She sighed and dragged Evan off to the dressing rooms.

"Y/N! You guys couldn't wait??" Zoe blurted out as soon as they were gone. "Hey! anything to help Evan's stress..." You mumbled before getting out your script to practice your lines.

[theriddlerisanerd]

So here is a fanfic about the Gotham Rogues who ends up raising a child together. So far only Jonathan Crane has the child

[saralaurensmagalona]

Magalona NIGHT AT THE G-BAR

Here is one of my first Johnlock fic with a torchwood crossover ! Lemon but no smut ! Sorry ! Story in three parts. Thanks for reading !

Chapter 1

Blog Entry N°..... November....

Another day, another case, but not like any other (and I'll be damned if we are doing something like that EVER ! I MEAN IT ! ) ! Heard about the series of murder in LGTB friendly bars ? Bodies dismembered puzzle-like, showing up near Gay bars, victims last seen at various gay or lesbian parties, no signs of violence, clean parts, their belongings gone ? It took four victims to finally send Sherl

John stopped. Not good. Not even sure he will have the guts to write it all. Too much on this case. Too, too much.... Thing-y... Is it good to talk about it anyway ? Nothing in this story is right... He doesn't know what's worse. The fact that Sherlock never wanted to do it in the first place (said it was rather low on that incomprehensible scale of his and therefore « without any interest whatsoever »), that Greg and John practically begged him to go (making the whole disaster THEIR fault, by the way...) or that John had to face something he didn't even realized it existed. It's not only an elephant lying comfortably in their old sofa he can see now. Nope. There is the one on the sofa, plus the one trying all of Sherlock's dressing gowns, plus the one waltzing around the kitchen in a tutu, plus the hippopotamus in the tub with Sherlock's last disgusting experiment (you don't want to know...) and the two polar bears playing chess in the fridge. Honest. Okay, now John knows he is overreacting a bit, but nonetheless. It sucks. Because now he has to acknowledge facts about him and Sherlock. Facts he has constantly denied, facts he didn't even want to discuss but are put forward permanently, whether he liked it or not. Especially the G-thing. Yelling that he was not gay to almost everyone that could listen must have done something bad in the tangled web of Fate. Now he was writing like a schoolgirl. Screw kharma...

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That night started badly from the beginning. John was uncomfortable in this ridiculous leather outfit, sticking to his bum, making him feel naked to the waist. The belt and boots looked cool but he was far too old for this kind of fancy costume. Sherlock, on the other hand, dressed in a similar manner, with a white t-shirt on his (very) tight black leather trousers, his hair (for once) stylishly combed. Which made John wonder how could he do this on his own and, anyhow, it was likely not going to last long in the club's usual steamy atmosphere. Anyway, on their way they went and John hoped they wouldn't look out of place or attract attention or something. As Sherlock kept reminding him, they were walking in the dark. There were not many leads in this case and, though Sherlock had a few ideas, they were scarce and thin. The killer was intelligent and well-prepared. A high-ranked predator. Sherlock wasn't even sure he was male for some damages done to the victims looked like female retaliation while some other wounds seemed caused by a very tall individual, rather male... Not very logical.

Once in the place, the usual loud, full of weird laser lights, packed with stud-like dudes with even weirder outfits (his and Sherlock's were rather casual considering the others on display), Gay-friendly place, John felt a little uncomfortable. It was seriously crowded, they could barely walk. No surprise anyone could be abducted without notice. Furthermore, John didn't really appreciate all the groping and unwanted attentions... Although, it was not so bad for a middle-aged worn-out military doctor to impress some kids dressed like bdsm bad cops. Good for the ego, not good for the case because if John didn't look more eager for all the flirting and attention, they would seem suspect. « First things first, John, » said Sherlock « Blend. Have a drink and a few conversation. We need to have an overall vision. If I'm not feeling anything interesting, we'll move on to the next bar. » Roger that. Sherlock in charge, as ever. A bit later (and a few gropers later), Sherlock was being restless and John got used to the loud noise. He had brought non-alcoholic drinks (the place was getting awfully hot). It would be a waste since Sherlock was clearly showing signs that, whatever he was looking for, it wasn't there. « Two more minutes and we are out of here, » said Sherlock with mild annoyance « clearly, the murderer follows a distinct pattern and hunts for specific preys. Newcomers, lone, inexperienced young wolfs and she-wolfs, without a ''pack'' to watch over them. Unknown to the regulars and patrons, no one will report their disappearance fast enough for the police to found them. IF they are reported at all. » He gulped the drink too fast for John's liking « That's why there are no leads. There's nowhere to start with since no one knows exactly where and when they were spotted and taken. And how. » He releases the glass « But here are only the hard-and-boiled crew. They're all long-time known customers, too dangerous for our target. We need to move on. » Sherlock was starting to go when John stopped him. « Hold on. Need to go to the gents first. I'll be right back. » Sherlock barely held an annoyed sigh. Retrospectively, it took only a few minutes to John to do his business, get ready and come back but it was sufficient for Sherlock to disappear... Again. Damn it.

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Diabetes... One cat, two dogs... Single with sadist tendencies... Dyed hair and working out implies self confidence issues... Had unprotected sex and maybe caught herpes... Mother has cancer... Sherlock let the deduction screen roll. But still nothing conclusive. Where is John ? Need to go. No clues of significant importance. Where is John ? Starting to feel the horrible steely pressure of boredom. Plus, some oversized (Excess of steroids... Recently received the “Dear John” letter... Heart condition...) cliché-biker wearing the depressing usual “biker from hell” outfit was openly ogling him. That kind of fancy outfit could be fun on Lestrade though.... Booooored. Where is John ? Must be seriously tired to be so slow. Emergencies at Bart's today (or is it yesterday already ?), typical dark circles under his eyes mean extra load of interventions and a session to the pub with Stamford and Sarah for debriefing. Without me. Where is John ? What takes him so long ? Booooored. So much colours. So much noise. Colours mix with noises. Who is that ? Tall. Chestnut hair. Broad shoulders and …. suspenders ? Who on this day and age still wears suspenders ? Turn around so I can see you, deduce you... Nope, Suspenders-on-broad-shoulders is talking to a more chubby, smaller, posh guy with a purple waistcoat (Wait, what ? Waistcoat ? In a leather club ??). Almost juvenile though over thirty. Kinda cute. But also with a hint of dangerousness. Beware the meek ones, like some well-known sandy-haired cute doctor... Where is... Purple Waistcoat realizes that Sherlock is looking. Damn. Whispers to Suspenders who turns around. Holy Mary. Purple Waistcoat is quite handsome but Suspenders is charismatic. Suspenders smiles in a wolfish way, with lots of white teeth, murmurs something to Purple Waistcoat who nods rather shyly, a little submissively. Whoever they are, Suspenders is dominant in the relationship. Both of them come Sherlock's way. Uh-oh...

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John searched the dance floor for his stupid partner. Once he would lay his hands on him... John scanned the crowded area but no trace of tall git with lots of curly dark hair, trying to antagonize the whole audience with his witty remarks. Hang on. There was a tall curly dark head dancing (?) between... What the HELL ?! John stood open-mouthed, stupid and motionless because what he was seeing right now, almost in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see (and man, did they see), couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Sherlock, eyes closed, moving languidly (quite good actually), sandwiched between two unknown hunks. Right there for everyone to see.

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Sherlock barely hears Suspenders when he starts talking in his ear, barely feels Purple Waistcoat guiding him through the scene. Hmm. Nice. Purple Waistcoat has soft hands. Sherlock barely registers that Suspenders (mint breath, nice musky scent, strangely faultless tanned skin, no traces of anything, there is something seriously weird about him... oh, who cares...) lets his hands caress Sherlock's sides with calm confidence. Certain that Sherlock wouldn't mind. That Purple Waistcoat (showing manners and breeding to hide low class birth, welsh descent, one sister married, one niece, parents dead, bisexual, engaged once, ended tragically with fiancée's death, mated to Suspenders in a free relationship, both of them looking for stress release, picked me out but... Huh, what was I saying ?) is behind Sherlock, dancing to the loud rhythm a little awkwardly, gently holding Sherlock by the waist. Obviously, he is unused to this, contrary to Suspenders who is breathing in Sherlock's neck, which makes him shiver a bit because it's hotter than anything he can remember. This is... unexpected but not disagreeable. Hot, very hot... Suspenders slides closely to Sherlock. Purple Waistcoat comes closer and lets his mouth rest on Sherlock's shoulder. Both of them feel warm, feel... wonderful. Far, far away in the deepest recess of the Mind Palace, Sherlock can hear a familiar (and beloved) voice screaming indignantly something at him. But the sound fades quickly because Suspender's hands is now caressing Sherlock's cheek. Because Purple Waistcoat makes an attempt to reach Sherlock's skin under the shirt. Because Sherlock can feel both their hips and groins pressing gently against his own hips and bottom and it becomes hotter and hotter and... Sherlock wants to feel him, to taste his mouth, to feel his hands on his chest, to pin him down or being pinned down, to feel him rut hard against him, hard and fast and... Suspenders grabs Sherlock's head with both his hands and starts for a kiss... Feel the short sandy-haired... “John...” Suspenders and Purple Waistcoat stop at once. “...''John'' ? No, I'm Jack, I...” starts Suspenders. “Hang on, Jack. There's something wrong with him !” yells a surprised Purple Waistcoat who manages to grab Sherlock before he hits the ground.

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The rest was a little confused for John to remember. Sherlock fainted badly and the two hunks tried to help him (good point for them) while the rest of the herd was stupidly gawking. Idiots. John was on Sherlock in two seconds. Apparent symptoms John knew all too well from rape reports. Rohypnol. The rape-drug. Someone had drugged the drinks (but why Sherlock's drink and not his ? Was it a lucky try ? Were they spotted before that ?). The Killer ? Maybe. It was ruined for tonight. They had to go. John noticed the discreet disappointment in the two hunks' faces. And there came the punchline because John, while handling a quasi-unconscious Sherlock to the cab, thought very distinctly, too clearly for himself to try and deny it: “Sorry, jerks, he's all mine.”

There. That was the starting point. Because, while Sherlock was fondled like a piece of meat by the hands of two super-hot studs, John could do nothing but watch... Could not do anything else besides picturing himself in the place of the stallion with chestnut hair and amazing blue eyes and the handsome cutie pie who he wanted to throttle because he dared touch Sherlock's skin in front of John Watson, like a goddamn dog in heat. Even John's anger was starting to frighten him, because it was jealousy... John looked at the pale face, the soft (finally shut...) mouth . Sherlock was stoned but still more or less conscious and drifted in and out of it dreamily. His head bobbed at the movements of the cab until it rested on John's shoulders. John felt himself blushing and was ashamed of it. Luckily, Sherlock will never see it. Sherlock whose locks of hair hid his eyes who softly breathed a barely audible “John... John... Yes...”

And today, everything is back to normal with an irritated Sherlock who took the case personally and is currently madly typing to Lestrade and Molly so he can check on the last bodies at the morgue. Whoever the killer is, Sherlock is on its tracks and will not leave it until he gets him (or her...). Whatever happened last night is faraway in the deepest cellar of the Mind Palace. John doesn't even know if he remembers it or not... Until the game is off, John cannot resolve this particular issue. And he tries very hard not to think about the warmth in his belly each time he sees or hears Sherlock...

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John is writing in his stupid blog again. Let him be. Follow the lead. Suspicion that the killer is actually one of the bartenders. Only one who could calculate the risk of the drug in the right drink. Check the profiles with Lestrade. John is still writing like Sherlock is not here. Once the case is closed... Once the case is closed, he'll tell John.

[bubblieywubbliey]

I need ALL of these right now

What I'm working on!

Evan: - first time (fluffy smut)

Connor: - first time (fluffy smut)

-Chapter 6 of my book!!!!

Send me prompts or requests!!! My writers block is finally gone so I’ll be able to pump out more!

[buckyisdamnfine]

hey could i request a buckyxreader?Bucky and the reader are always fighting and screaming at each other but then the reader gets really sick and is losing her hair and can't really do anything alone anymore (like walk and eat) at the beginning she tries to hide that she is sick but then after a fight with bucky she falls and can't stand up!He then gets overprotective and helps her and realizes that he loves her?Lots of fluff?Thank you:) your blog is gret and u too!:)

I’m sorry this took so long! I really like this request. I changed a bit, but hopefully it’s still ok. I thought this would be harder to write or shorter, but it’s about 5 pages! Thanks for enjoying the blog!! I hope you enjoy!!!! :)

“Shut the Hell Up”

Words: 1,349

Trigger Warning: swearing, blood, illness

“You are such an asshole, Bucky!” you said, fighting back acoughing fit. You could hear the ex-assassin stomp away from the couch you weresitting on, grumbling on his way out. After you heard Bucky leave, you couldn’thold the coughs back any longer. You had been feeling weak for weeks now, butyou were too proud to tell anyone. It had to just be cold that was hangingaround, no big deal. As you were coughing, Bruce came into the living room andsat near you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he asked, leaning forward. “Thatsounds like a nasty cough.”

You caught your breath and shook your head at him. “I’mfine, Doc.” As you lowered your hand, you saw Bruce’s eyes go to it.

“Oh my god, is that blood?” he exclaimed, coming to kneel infront of you. “Are you coughing up blood? Why haven’t you said anything?”

“It hadn’t happened before”, you responded weakly. Brucecalled for Tony, who came running, and they both started pulling you towardsthe elevator, babbling about going to the hospital. As you were forced, orrather escorted, to the elevator, Bucky came around the corner.

“Oh, what’s wrong with the princess now?” he said, sneering.

“Shut the hell up, Barnes.” You responded, which sent youinto another coughing fit. Bucky started, looking from you, to the two men’sworried faces.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked. He took a steptowards you, which caused you to step back. Tony responded, seeing that youwere coughing too much. “Y/N’s sick and coughing up blood. We need to get to ahospital and get her checked out.”

“I’ll come with.” Bucky immediately responded. You shookyour head violently, saying “No, you won’t.” However, your statement was cutoff by your legs giving out from underneath you. While Tony and Bruce werekeeping you up, Bucky strode forward, sweeping you up into his arms. “Let’s go.”He said, looking at the others with worried eyes.

Two hours later, you were in the same situation, Buckycarrying you into the tower, putting you on the couch in the living room. Youhad been diagnosed with a rare disease, that was causing you to become weakerand weaker. The tests that had been done wore you out even more, leaving youunable to stand, let alone walk. Tony and Bruce said their farewells as theyhurried to their lab, to try and do more research on the unfinished cure foryour disease. You turned to look at Bucky, to tell him to leave you alone, butyou saw the guilty look on his face. You asked him what was wrong, and he letout a heavy sigh.

“Did I do this? I fought with you, I got you all worked up.”He said, looking into your eyes. Those damn beautiful eyes of his always gotyou tongue-tied. When you had no response for him, he sighed again. “You blameme. You should. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Listen, anything I can do for you, just letme know.” Still speechless, especially considering that the two of you seemedto be at each other’s throat since the moment you met, the only thing you couldthink of to do was nod.

Slightly coughing again, Bucky’s eyes got wide. “Do you needsomething to drink?” You nodded again. “Would you get me some water please?”you croaked. As soon as the words were out of your mouth, Bucky was in thekitchen getting you water. Anytime you needed anything, Bucky was there.

It was the same way for the next 4 weeks, as you grew weakerand soon could barely do anything on your own. Yet everytime you got tired, orneeded a drink, or medicine, Bucky was there. He was rarely more than a fewfeet away from you. He wouldn’t go on any missions, no matter how mad it madeFury. Finally one day you snapped.

“Why are you always around, Bucky? You hated me before allof this happened. Are you just doing it out pity?”

Bucky stared at you in shock. “Is that really what you thinkof me?” You nod. Bucky sighed and sank down next to you. “Look, Y/N, I didn’tlike you for a long time. But when I saw you sick like that after I yelled atyou, it made me realize how terrible I treated you. And now, after spending somuch time with you, I don’t know why I acted like that. You’re amazing, Y/N.You’re funny, kind, optimistic even with everything that’s happening. I think……”he trailed off, looking down at the floor.

“Go on,” you whispered, wondering if he was feeling the sameyou were.

“I think I love you.” Bucky whispered, looking back intoyour eyes.

“Bucky…I might die from this. I can’t start anything withyou.” You said after a few minutes.

“So, you want to start something?” Bucky asked hopefully.You shrugged, and Bucky took your hands. “I don’t care what happens, I love youand I want to be by your side, no matter what. Please. Let’s give it a try.”You look into his eyes and say, “Ok.”

Two weeks later, a long two weeks (mostly spent watchingmovies with Buck and cuddling), Bruce and Tony burst into the living room.

“We did it! We found the cure!” Bruce exclaimed, handing youa vial. “Drink that and you should start feeling better in a few days.” You didas he said, and immediately felt the medicine making you drowsy.

“Is this supposed to happen?” You slurred, before fallingasleep. Bucky jumped up, but Tony pushed him back into the chair.

“This has to happen. She’ll be overly tired and sleep a lotfor a couple of days, but it will help her body heal. We’ve done all the testswe can and this will work.” Tony said, adding in a whisper, “It has to.”

But even though everyone was nervous, sure enough, in abouta week, you were able to sit up and even stand for minutes on end withouttiring out. Another week later, you were walking around again. You had to takeit easy, but every step you took, Bucky was right by your side, carrying youback to the couch if you needed it. Within 6 weeks of taking the medicine, youwere almost completely back to normal. It was almost like a miracle. Leave itto the billionaire genius and his science brother to figure it out. Tocelebrate your health, Bucky finally was able to take you out on a date.

For your first date, you left it all up to Bucky. After all,his 40’s upbringing caused him to believe that it was up to the guy to handlethe dates. However the dates were different now, so instead of going dancing(considering you still weren’t up to that), he decided to take you to the movieyou had been talking about and dinner at your favorite restaurant. Everythingwas perfect; you felt healthy, didn’t have any weakness, and you both had ablast.

“I love you, Y/N.” Bucky said, as he dropped you off at yourroom after the date. You smiled and kissed him.

“I love you too Buck.” You responded. “Good night,sweetheart.”

“Good night, doll.” He responded with a smile. As youentered your room, you couldn’t stop the smile from showing. You immediatelyran to grab your journal, so that you could document everything that hadhappened. You still laughed to yourself when you thought about how much you twohad fought when you first met, and now here you were. You had heard Buckytalking to Steve about proposing to you, but he was afraid you would say no.Little did he know, you already had folder on your computer planning yourwedding. Smiling to yourself again, you got under the covers, ready to haveamazing dreams about the date the man you love had taken you on. You couldn’twait for the next date.

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Hey lovelies,

Got you a short drabble. A beetlejuice x reader. And a Dewey Finn x reader.

Its NSFW... sexy times ahead.

Our boys having a stocking-thing going on....

Hope u enjoy 💕

Striped.

Beetlejuice had a thing for stockings and you knew it.

You saw these black and white striped ones and you just couldn't resist.

The look in his eyes when he saw you wearing them had been worth EVERY penny.

Beetlejuice his expression went from shocked, to amazed, to loving, to turned on in literally seconds. And you couldnt be happier.

He wasn't even touching you yet and he was already purring from happiness, at the other side of the room. His hair had changed from his natural green colour to a bright pink and his eyes were all adoration and hunger.

"Hey Beej... How was you-...."

Before you could finish your scentence he already launched himself towards you and flopped you both on the bed with a 'thump'.

You giggled at his eargerness and he growled in your ear as he let his eyes wander on your body. "...Babes!!... I... love the look! You look smoking hot..."

He reached out to squeeze your ass and he tugged your earlobe when he moaned growly, his lips touching your ear: "...You look ADORABLE in stripes..."

He attacked your throath, whining as he did so. Licking and nipping and tugging the delicate skin there. You threw your head back in pleasure and moaned his name. "Ahhh... Beej... please... touch me..."

He threw a cocky smile your way, he had you just were you wanted... just as needy for him as he was for you.

He tugged on your stocking, teasingly let it snap back against your thigh and you whined at the sensation. He chuckled, leaned in to kiss you and growled against your lips: "...Youknow the magic word babes..."

You sighed. Knowing he loved to feel in control and too turned on to turn back now you huskily breathed against his scruff: "...Please daddy... please... fuck me in my stockings..."

Beetlejuice smiled a lopsided smile, kissed you deeply and traced your stocking with his fingers when he purred back: "My absolute pleasure babes. I would love nothing more..."

..................................................................................

Lacy

You sighed deeply at the attention your hair was getting from the wandering hands of Dewey Finn. Dewey knew hair pulling was your biggest weakness, and you knew his was something odd. Stockings.

Having lacy lingerie on combined with stockings made the poor boy go grazy. Bonus added if you wore your leather jacket over your lacy white bra.

You found out by accident. But oh boy did you enjoy his weakness.

He murmered against your lips between kisses: "...music notes huh...? God you know me so well... So pretty... So innocent...such a pretty good girl..."

He tugged your bottom lip with his teeth, gave your hair a tug and growled hungrily: "...So hot, sweetheart..."

You moaned at his tug and raspy voice dirty talking to you: "Awh... hmmm... yes Dew..."

His eyebrows forrowed and he pulled away to look you in the eyes. His brown eyes shined with uncertainty shined "Hey... sweetheart... Are you okay?"

You smiled at the sweet gesture, kissing him deeply as a reply.

He hummed a bit and you pulled back. "I'm very okay... Thanx for checking rockstar..."

You kissed Dewey again and let your hands wander towards his bulge through his jeans. You brushed your hand over it and he let out a quiet needy whine.

His hands moved towards your legs and he brushed his fingers over your thighs, teasingly slow, towards your stockings. Deweys eyes were dark with lust as he eyed your legs hungerly, growling a bit as he bit his lower lip.

You kissed him again and he breathed between kisses: "Good thing love... i really love those stockings on you. You look so gorgeous... so ready... so needy for me..."

His hands found your hair again and he kissed you softly on your lips, you both moaned and panted when he pulled away. He mumbled between soft kisses and wandering hands: "Gosh, how i love you...."

You pecked his scruffy cheek, gliding your fingers through his brown curls and whispered back: "Love you too, rockstar..."

@ironmansuucks @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @little-miss-shy-goth @thats-specific @vicunaburger @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @gegehaddock @bugdrinkss

[loyalnprecious]

New moodboard for my latest fic on Ao3

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Boo lovelies,

Wrote some beetlejuice x reader fluff. The reader is mad at Beej because our demon stole all the chocolate. Fluff afterwards. Hope you enjoy 💕

Chocolate war.

You were tense, your back hurt, you were grumpy as hell but also desperate for cuddles...

Long story short: you were on your period.

To be more specific: you were on your period and the quest to find some much needed chocolate was failing miserably.

Weird... you would bet your ass that you bought some yesterday.

Then it hit you. That goddamn demon was gonna get it... you were already starting to call his name: "Beetlejuice...."

You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance. That floating pancake better stayed off your chocolate.

"Beetlejuice...."

You swore that if he touched your green m&m's you would be capable to kill a deamon that was already dead.

"Beetlejuice...."

You stood in the middle of the kitchen with your arms crossed and an irritated frown on your face, as you waited untill the green smoke dissapeared from your view. You rolled your eyes as you heard an overly happy: "Babes!! Are you home already?"

You replied with a grumpy growl: "Zip it Beej. Have you, by any chance, seen my green m&m's? Couldnt find them anywhere."

There was still too much smoke to get a clear look on his face but you heard his voice pitch to a higher frequency as he replied: "Nope. Noperdenope. No dollface. Haven't seen it. Haven't touched it. Haven't smelled it. Im a demon from hell.... how would i know what chocolate even looks like?"

Sure... he was capable of a lot, but lying to you wasnt his speciality.

You heared him snap his fingers and then heard some shuffling around.

As the green smoke dissapeared you predicted to catch Beetlejuice right in the act with his hands full of chocolate. You were slightly suprised as you saw your favorite demon with an actual book in his hands. The book was held upside down and covered his face as he attempted to read 'the book of the recently deceased'. You couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the sight before you. What a dork. His hands gave him away immediately, full with brown smears of chocolate.

You stepped forward, laying a hand on his book while you slowly lowered it. Your eyes landed on his hair first, the colour a mixture of green with purple strands in it. That lowered your angry mood a bit. At least he was sorry. You spoke again, your voice in a more kind way now: "Beetlejuice, sweetheart... Did you by any chance ate my chocolate?" As you went to lower the book even more you couldnt help but chuckle at the pouting ghost-with-the-most before you. His face was even worse then his hands, a bit of the chocolate was smeared on his left cheek, and there was a stain below his lower lip.

As you smirked at him, his eyes betrayed that he indeed felt very sorry about what he did.

"Hey babes..." he sheepishly blurted out. ".... i.... might have come across it todaaayyy.... and i am verrrrry sorry. And yes, before you can ask: I ate the other 3 bars as well."

You sighed deeply. A part of you was still annoyed, but you also knew that your hormones werent helping.

As you sighed in annoyance, you saw that Beetlejuice cringed a little at the sound. You couldnt help but find the whole situation kind of adorable as well. Seeing his face all child-like covered in chocolate made you smile again. That bouncy oddball always managed to make you smile, no matter how pissed you had been before.

"Babes!! I have the BEST idea.... give me a sec while i let my awesomess work!" Beetlejuice shouted after he saw your changing mood. He was clearly relieved you weren't that mad at him, the purple in his hair was being replaced by a few strings of pink. Beetlejuice was bouncing up and down in excitement as he nodded his head towards were you were standing. A steaming cup of hot chocolate was placed in your hands, with a slight smell of cinnamon. Just how you liked it. He did a few more finger points and snaps and before you could blink the fridge was stuffed with chocolate. Even some green-matcha ones you liked.

Beetlejuice took a gleefull turn around, bowed dramatically and smiled a lopsided smile your way: "There you go sweetcheeks. Not nearly as sweet as you are, but it comes close. You happy again now, babes?"

You looked at the demon as you took a step closer to him, grabbed him by his tie and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. You felt Beetlejuice smile as his green stubble prickled your face while he eagerly kissed you back. As you pulled back you looked him in the eye seductively. You licked just below his lower lip, where the smudge of chocolate had been and heard Beej growl as you did so.

You kissed all the chocolade stains on his face away and Beetlejuice hummed happily as he pulled you in for one more kiss.

Just before his lips touched yours he stopped moving, and snapped his head a bit to the side, towards your neck. You frowned a bit at the sudden movement and you heard your ghost sniffle your neck carefully. Feeling his nose and stubble move upwards towards your ear as he sniffed again, deeply this time. He let out a low animalistic growl and he purred into your ear: "oh babes.... is it that time of the month again? You smell so good. Good enough to eat." For emphasis he trailed his teeth slowly against your neck, and you yelped in suprise as he did so.

He smirked against your cheeckbone and you pulled away from his preditory grasp to properly kiss him on the lips again. "Maybe later champ. But first... i got some chocolate to eat." you murmered against his lips.

You winked at beetlejuice and turned around to stuff some green-matcha-chocolate in your mouth. You sighed happily and smirked at him: "Now i am happy, mister Juice.... Cuddle-marathon on the couch?"

He smiled wickedly at you as he sprinted off, like a puppy goes to chace a ball: "Beat you to it!!" he cheered happily as he ran off towards the living room. You couldn't help but smile. You were blessed that the cutest demon ever was choosing to annoy you everyday. And night. And every second in between.

As you were lost in your happy thoughts you heard a whiny growl coming from the living room: "Baaaaaabessssss.... im cold and alone and someone promised me cuddles!!!!"

You rolled your eyes, but happily went to cuddle your needy, pouty, loving Beetlejuice anyway.

Tagging: @paxenera @hoodoo12 @large-unit @little-miss-shy-goth @thats-specific @vicunaburger @ironmansuucks @h1de-s0urce @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @heknowshisherbs

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Hey lovelies...

A sweet Dewey Finn x reader fic. Verrrry fluffy, verrrry happy, verrrry clingy, verrrrry drunk. Dewey accidentally discovers he can pull off a very low, growly, hoarse, husky, gravelly voice. Just like a certain ghost-with-the-most we know. 💚

Something really special.... me and the amazing, sweet, talented @ironmansuucks have been working on together.

We genuinely hope you guys enjoy this one.

I LOVE YOU MORE THEN PIZZA

“Hey guys, c’mon… tequila!!” Dewey wiggled his eyebrows, smirking at his friends as they headed back to the bar, for what felt like the millionth time that night. It was Friday after all, and as usual the boys were drinking the place dry of tequila after a long week. Dewey and the kids had been practicing extra all week for a show booked for the following Friday. They had worked so hard and Dewey was so proud of them but he was exhausted. His voice was completely messed up from singing and shouting with them all week and he just needed a night off. It was scratchy and hoarse, almost sore sounding but it wasn’t, and it was easy to tell by the way he was throwing back the tequila shots, most likely making his voice worse. But he didn’t care. He was having fun.

Due to not having any dinner before he went out (not to mention the 1 tequila, 2 tequila, 3 tequila 4), Dewey was well and truly fucked. Him, Ned and a few other of his friends, were stumbling around their favourite bar, making one another laugh. The music was on point and the drinks kept flowing. It was one of those nights were everything was hysterically funny and silly. Those were the best kinda nights. Doing dares, drinking games, and who could forget about the daft dancing.

Dewey was showing Ned one of the guitar riffs that he had taught the kids, air guitar of course, when suddenly someone bumped into him, shoving him forward a bit. Dewey turned round to see a massive, tall bald guy barging past him “hey man, move out my way” the man grumbled as he hustled past. What the hell? Dewey looked at Ned, drunk and confused “who the hell does that guy think he is? Move out my way” Dewey mimicked, screwing up his face and buffing his chest and shoulders. Due to his voice already being fucked up, he sounded the exact same as the dude. His voice raspy and hoarse. Ned and the other guys were in hysterics at Dewey’s impression, which only prompted him to continue.

As he headed towards the bar, he kept his shoulders buffed and his face screwed up, his friends jumping behind him, still laughing. “hey, can I order 8 tequila shots” Dewey quipped to the barman in his husky, exaggerated voice, eliciting laughs from his friends. The barman didn’t bat an eyelid and just served him. “here you go boys” Dewey continued, handing his laughing friends shots, “bottoms up”.

* * * * *

You rolled your eyes laughing.

Some while later, namely 1:30 AM, you had received a few texts from your sweet (drunken) Dewey Finn:

heeeeeeyyy ybaaby

I mioiss yuoo s oo mucjh

ccan you pleaaes com e pick me up pp lesae ?? ?? ?

You rolled your eyes laughing, knowing he was going to be absolutely steaming. You quickly replied, telling him you would be there in ten. You already knew the bar he was in due to his drunken snapchats, and because it was the one they would always frequent on Friday nights.

Due to your tiredness, and lack of drunkenness, you could not be bothered with the bar. The loud music, the smell of a mix of different alcohols, and the sweaty people jumping around was just something that didn’t particularly appeal to you right now. Grab Dewey. Get out.

Squeezing past all of the drunkards, you could see Dewey at the bar with a few friends. You felt soft at the sight of him smiling and laughing with his friends. It was always a sight you loved to see. His cheeks rosy from the alcohol and his soft, fluffy curls slightly messed up from jumping around. You made your way over to him, car keys in hand ready to grab him and rush goodbyes to get him home.

Dewey was leaning against the bar laughing when you approached him. When his eyes caught yours he lit up. His eyes growing wide. His friends were all laughing at him and you had no idea, until “h-hey baby” Dewey growled out, still exaggerating his hoarse voice causing his friends to bellow out in fits of amusement. You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing lightly “hey Rockstar, what the hell is up with your voice?”.

Dewey made his way over to you, staggering slightly “oh yeah th-is guy was like barging past me and.. and he was all like g-get out of ma way” he giggled, his voice rough even when he spoke normally. Dewey threw his arm around you and pulled you into his side. You held him up, him using you to lean against, you could smell the tequila on him.

After successfully getting Dewey out of the bar and into the car he began to get worse. The fresh air making him seem more drunk, as it always does. He was sat in the passenger side seat, his elbow resting against the window and his head against the head rest. “sweetheart… I just.. I just like you more than p-izza ok.. and I really REALLY like pizza-a”. you laughed at him and his rough, kinda sexy, voice. “thanks Dew, what a compliment” he looked at you, his eyes lidded and tired “no baby, I-I seriously lOVE pizza.. b-but I just like you sooo much mooorrrree”. He lightly poked your arm, smiling away to himself. Nearly home now.

You knew Dewey was clingy, but drunk Dewey was ten times worse. From the moment you got home he was stuck to you. “Dewey you need to let my hand go so I can take my shoes off”, “nooo I just love youuuu”. “you need to let me go so I can get changed” “no just stay with me pleeease, pleaeeaase, I’ll d-die if you don’t” he would plead, voice cracking and his hand pulling you into him.

After forcing him to drink a glass of water, poor baby was tuckered out. He continued to drink the water with one hand and patted your head with the other. You looked at him and his tired eyes, confused and laughed. “what am I? your dog?” he nodded, gulping the water. His eyes were closing and you knew you had to get him to bed, hoping he wouldn’t be sick. It was nearly 3 AM.

As soon as he got into the bedroom Dewey threw himself on the bed and closed his eyes “night” he croaked out. “no no no Dew you need to get your trousers off you goof” you moved over to him. “nooo I don’t want too.. too tired” he whined. “Dewey Finn sit up and take those Jeans off. I have just washed those sheets and I’m not having your black jeans staining them” you warned, folding your arms. He huffed loudly, like a child, and stood up, unbuttoning his jeans and moving his legs so they would fall down. He could be so lazy sometimes.

Finally you were both in bed. Dewey scooted over to you, getting his body as close to yours as possible, his hand sneaking to your side, sliding up to your ribs and rubbing the skin there. “so soft…” he cracked, his eyes closing with sleepiness. You smiled at him, but furrowed your eyebrows worriedly “remember Dew, if you feel sick, wake me up” you cautioned. He simply nodded and grumbled in response. His voice sounded as if it was sore, you troubled. Whatever he had done to it, the amount of tequila he had consumed certainly wouldn’t have helped him. You shook your head, “you crazy dude” you whispered lovingly, running your hand down his face admiring his rosy cheeks, and wild hair.

* * * * *

You sighed in sheer relief that morning when Dewey didn't get sick at night. The trashcan beside his side of the bed was luckily un-used. It was kind of a miracle why though, the amount of tequila he drank had been enough to fill up your half of your bath-tub. You shook your head on the pillow as you eyed your boyfriend. He was soundly sleeping on his side. His hair was messily spread out on the pillow, standing up and difying any sort or gravity. You loved Dewey Finn with all your heart, he was just a hyper kid sometimes. A bouncy, hyper kid, with amazing charm and guitar skills... sometimes on too much liquor.

You traced his every feature with your eyes, letting his beauty sink into the deepest level of your soul.

It was almost angelic, his soft face combined with the rough scruff on his cheeks. The rising sun making his messy brown hair glow like the sun herself reached out to kiss it. He smelled like the bar you picked him up from, combined with the fresh smell of your bedsheets, and something unmistakably Dewey.

You rolled your eyes, internly cursing yourself. The boy drank half a bath-tub of tequila last night... You had to carry him home... and yet here you was. Falling even more in love with that dorky, bouncy rock-star. You couldn't be mad at him even if you tried. He only tried to have a good time... that's all.

You shot your Dewey one last glance, before sneaking out of bed. You put on your cozy socks, and grabbed Deweys sweater on the way out. Just before you closed the door you heard Dewey mutter something as he stirred in his sleep, and you smiled at the cute noice. You left the door peeking open a bit, and threw on Deweys worn ACDC sweater. It smelled like him, minus the smell of liquor he was currently sporting.

You tip-toed down the stairs, in desperately need for some coffee. You always were an early bird, while Dewey woke mid day if you'd let him. That part you couldnt change... no matter how hard you tried.

You figured his hang-over-ass would also enjoy some coffee, so you made one for him as well. Yours was filled with lots of milk, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.... Dewey drank his coffee black.

As you passed the stove you figured he could use some hang-over-proof-food as well. So you grabbed a pan, cracked two eggs open and started making scrambled eggs on toast. Humming softly to yourself, watching the still rising sun seep through the kitchen window as you prepared breakfast.

You were suprised when you felt two strong arms wrap softly around your waist, pulling you into his embrace. You chuckled and yelped a bit in suprise when dewey came to stand behind you, his body still sleepily warm as he pushed himself up to you against the stove. You felt the weight of his head rest on your shoulder and smiled at the feeling of his stubble on your neck, when he pressed a soft kiss on it. He swayed you gently from behind, moving in sync with your humming.

You struggled to keep your attention to the breakfast you were making, instead of focussing on Dewey behind you. Dewey started to nibble on your neck while you continued to stirr the eggs in the pan. Dewey noticed the slight hitch in your breath while he softly suckled on your pulse point and tried to sneak his hand under your sweater. You squeeled a high pitched sound and grabbed his hand under your sweater before it could get to its destination. He growled in dissapiontment and you felt him pout against your cheekbone, scruff tickeling your cheek when he did so.

You squeezed his hand and mumbled: "Let's have breakfast first, okay cassanova?"

Deweys hands moved towards your sides, he took a step back and he pressed a kiss on the top of your hair. He hummed in response at your suggestion and slapped your ass before slumping into the kitchen chair.

A high pitched yelp escaped your throat, and you was just about to lecture him but when you turned around your mind went still. Comletely still. Aside from the singing choir in the back of your head.

His bedhead was still all over the place as he slumped into the kitchen chair. His brown locks standing in different angles on his head, framing his beautifull face. The golden light of the sun still surrounding him with a bright halo, almost like the joy of life shine out of him. The bright light of the sun reflected in his eyes, and it made his gaze even more entracing. His head rested in his hand and his droopy eyes were full of sleep, but also full of admiration when he looked at you. He brushed his free hand through his messy brown locks, making his hair even more chaotic. A satisfied smirk ghosted his lips and Dewey Finn looked smug as hell.

How could he not, you were practically giving him heart eyes at the moment.

You turned around quickly, struggling to focus on the eggs in front of you again.

You turned off the stove and flopped the eggs on the kitchentable unceremoniously. You sat down across Dewey and sipped your coffee while eyeing your boyfriend over the coffee cup, with a fond smile on your face. Gosh... you loved this man.

He happily beamed back at you and digged into the eggs, his hoarse voice cracked: "Thanks love..."

You couldn't help but laugh at the state of his voice... all fucked up from the shouting and singing of last night. That voice....

A thought popped up in your mind, talking about last night...

That voice. The voice that made you laugh and giggle. Made you sing and hum. His voice made you happy and emotional. Grounded you and guided you. Deweys voice had you aroused in seconds, and you loved every tone it could make... but this voice. It was hoarse and husky and gravelly. Croaky and somewhat nasal.

This hang-over, worn-out growly voice was something else.

You tried to pinpoint exactly what it was that this side of his voice made you feel.

You asked a question to keep Dewey talking in that gravelly voice, so you could feel some more of...

Whatever it was that you seemed to feel at it hearing him talk in that voice...

"Hey Dew... you slept okay? You didnt get sick man. That's great!"

Between eating his toast and sipping his coffee he replied, again with a low, husky, growly voice: "Yeah... that's pretty cool indeed. Lucky me, huh? Hey... Thankyou for picking me up last night..."

You were lost in thoughts as he lowly kept growling through his scentences. The only thing you could think off was that voice was making your knees weak. Good thing you were already sitting... Cause with the orange glow of the sun, combined with his scratchy low croaking voice you were sure could swoon at the spot.

This voice of him was something else. You certainly felt something.

... a lot of someting.

Dewey noticed your mental absence as he continued to growly speak. He noticed that your breathing had changed, and he saw the rosy colour your cheeks had gotten. He saw your pupils widening, you bit your lip and then left your mouth slightly agape. You licked your lips as he sneakily tried to slip more and more pet names for you into his conversation. His voice dropping lower, more breathy and huskier by the second.

He was in the middle of a scentence when you lost your fight to pure lust, love and desperation. You launched yourself over the kitchentable and kissed him with all the love that was bubbling inside your soul. He bit your lip as a deep growl escaped his throath and you panted between kisses: "Mister Finn.... you are an absolute angel... and your voice... Especially your hangover voice... Should be illegal."

Tagging: @little-miss-shy-goth ​ @paxenera ​ @heknowshisherbs @missihart23 ​ ​ @geminiacally @go-commander-kim ​ @gegehaddock ​ @baby-beej @sadpuppetshows @hoodoo12 @large-unit @thats-specific @vicunaburger @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss

We hope you enjoyed it. We sure enjoyed writing it! @ironmansuucks ... a deep bow and thankyou for doing me the absolute honour of writing with you. 💜 It was a pleasure, dear.

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Hey lovelies,

I got an Dewey Finn x artsy reader for y'all.

The reader crafts this special thing for our Rockstar... fluff ahead.

Hope you enjoy. 💜

Masterpiece

It was a warm summer-day, Nirvana blasted in the background of your appartment when you painted. You wiped your sweaty hairline with a sigh. Glad you decided to put it up in a bun. That way your neck would be cooler, and it also helped you to keep your locks paint-free.

....

You watched your smeared hands and paint stains that covered your overalls. Wel... at last it wasn't in your hair.

You had been painting for about 4 hours now, and you finally managed to step back and be happy with your work. Not often was you pleased with what you created, but since this was gonna be a gift for Dewey... it had to be the best of the best. It had to be absolutely perfect. Your sweet baby deserved nothing less.

You had this idea for quite some time now. But today you finally managed to actually do it.

The idea hit you after the gig-ritual the two of you created.

Dewey came home after a gig a couple of weeks ago and tiredly slumped on the couch with you. Lovingly admiring your sleeping form on the couch.

You always tried to wait up for him, to talk to him about his gig and cuddle. But more often then not, sleep got the better of you. You gave up the battle and fell asleep on te couch.

Multiple times you were woken up by Dewey carrying you to bed while you mumbled an apology for falling asleep while waiting up. Again.

He'd put you in bed, pressed a kiss on your hair and told you it was fine. He crawled in the bed, snuggling closer to you and you would drift off to sleep again. Dewey mumbled how much he had missed you, just before you closed your eyes. You would fall asleep in Deweys warm, comforting embrace.

This was not the ritual you intended most of the time, but it was a nice one nevertheless.

The thought hit you one night, the moment you touched the bed, after Dewey carried you upstairs again. He sighed and mumbled in your hair: "Thanx for waiting up sweetheart... I've missed you so much today."

You decided that he'd miss you less if he carried a piece of you around him, during his gigs, when he rocked the roof of.

Your last thought before drifting off that night had been: Im gonna fix him a special guitar...

That week you ordered a brand new electric guitar for Dewey online, and decided to put your own fingerprints on them... (quite literally). You personally had hand-painted the instrument. A little reminder that he always had a piece of you with him, even when you were not physically around.

You always got a little lost timewise when you touched paintbrushes, and you were startled by the sound of the front door opening. Dewey called when he closed the door: "Hey baby... Im home!"

Shit! Is it already that late?!

You panicked and your eyes darted around the mess in the room. A small explosion would have been a good summary of the scenery in front of you. Paintbrushes and paint scrambled across the floor, old rags to wipe the brushes lay everywhere and you were seated in the middle of the living room, on the ground. The guitar lay behind you, it still had to dry because of the wet paint on it.

There was no way you could keep this a suprise for Dewey. You couldnt even hide the guitar, cause it was still wet...

Damn it!

You realised too late that Nirvana rocking through the speakers would lead him into the living room even faster.

"Hey... babe?" You heared Dewey ask, his footsteps coming closer and you decided: fuck it. No turning back now.

You quickly turned around to face the door, sitting there cross legged and a bit anxcious for a second untill Dewey's happy face appeared in the doorway.

Pleasedontbemad, pleasethinkitscool, Please for the love of the rock gods... just... like it...

His bright brown eyes found yours and he threw a beaming smile your way. "There you are, my little picasso..." Dewey took a step in your direction, pressed a kiss on your hair and mumbled to you "... I still don't know how you managed to do so beautifull, but you got some purple paint in your hair. Again." He chuckled and darted his eyes around the room as he took in the chaos. "If i didn't knew you any better I'd say that you were going for the: mad painter vibe dear... Chaotically perfect. As alway-"

His scentence died abruptly in his throath when he lied eyes on the instrument behind you. His face was shocked, his mouth hang agape slightly and he squeeled. He excitedly bounced over to where you were sitting and a high pitched noise escaped his throath.

"What the fuckeroni is this beauty of a guitar doing here???!!" Dewey managed to croak out in a hoarse squeel. Still bouncing up and down and he ruffled his brown curls in amazement. A smile so bright that it could break his face in half, appeared on his features and he fixated his gaze on you.

Doubt started to creep up your spine as he unmovingly stared into your eyes for a minute. His eyes darted from the guitar, to you and back.

You couldnt take the insecurity any longer and bashfully asked: "Erhm... Dew... are you okay? I... im sorry if i... i dont mean to... erhm... if you dont like it... please tell me..."

You were shut up by Deweys strong arms pulling you up at your waist. Before you could protest or even yelp at the sudden movement his lips crashed on yours. His hands rested on your waist. Between kisses dewey breathed against your lips: "sweetheart... i LOVE it!!!"

He kissed you again, and again and again. Untill you couldnt properly trace his lips anymore, Dewey was a happy, bouncy, excited mess and it was hard to kiss a bouncingball.

You smiled fondly and Dewey rambled on how excited he was, still bouncing around the room. "Baby... you made this??? Its so sick! Its gonna shred faces even before i touched a singe string. Its so beautifull. Its..."

He stopped bouncing and crouched down beside the guitar, suddenly very quiet.

On the side was scribbled: "For my bouncy oddball of a Dewdrop. Rock on...." after the scribble of text he noticed a finferprint. Your fingerprint.

He turned his head towards you and you scratched your elbow, afraid you had overdone it. Your eyes darted to the floor as insecurity crept its way in your chest.

Dewey stood up, very slowly and walked towards you. You didn't dare too look at him untill his deep voice said your name. His voice sweet and caring, made all your doubt wash away.

Your eyes found his and you notices his beautifull brown eyes were gleaming with emotion. His gaze pure adoration and love, acceptence and amazement, when he took your hands.

He smiled through his whirlwind of emotion and reached out to brush his calloused fingers against your cheek, kissed you sweetly on the lips and pulled you in a tight hug.

Holding on like you were his only anchor in the world.

You revelled into the hug and his presence and reached out to comb your hand through his brown messy curls.

You heared him take a deep breath and felt his chest rise and fall against yours. You mumbled against the crook of his neck quietly: "I did it so you dont have to miss me as much on your gigs, Dew... This way you'll always have me with you. Even when im not around."

Dewey slowly pulled back from your embrace and gazed into your eyes. Your hands still tangled at the back of his neck, teasing the hairs there.

His nose rested against yours and he mumbled "...Thank you, beautifull... its... beautifull... almost as beautifull as you..."

He kissed your cheek, his scruff tickled under your cheekbone and he brushed his thumb over the kissed area.

"Its beautifully chaotic and serene at the same time... just like you, dear."

Dewey kissed your lips again softly and when he pulled back he chuckled: "Hey love...?"

You smirked: "Yeah Dew?"

He replied with a soft voice: "...You painted yourself a bit too. Again."

You scoffed at his comment. Of course you did. Again.

Dewey mischievously guided you closer by the straps of your overalls. His thumb brushed your cheekbone again, where he just kissed you. Dewey put his hands on your lower back and continued with a whisper: "No need to paint yourself, love... you are already a masterpiece..."

@ironmansuucks @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @little-miss-shy-goth @thats-specific @vicunaburger @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @gegehaddock @bugdrinkss

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Hey lovelies,

I gotcha a Beetlejuice x reader this time. All the garden-flufffffffff. Hope you enjoy. 💜

Thistles

You smiled fondly at your favorite ghost as he watched your every movement intently, is eyes lit up every time you mumbled softly at the plant before you. Beetlejuice sat next to you, his legs crossed and from the corner of your eye, you noticed more pink streaks popping up between the bright green locks.

It was a warm summer, and you loved being outdoors. Beej didn't particularly love gardening.... but he certainly loved you. He loved watching his favorite breather do someting. Anyting. But especially watching you doing things you enjoyed, admiring you made his hair go pink in a record time.

"Hey babes...?" Beetlejuice mumbled, as you carefully covered the young plant in your hands with some earth.

"Hmmmm?" you hummed in response.

"...whyyyyy... exaclty... do you talk to the plants?" Beej asked you with genuine curiosity.

You chucked at his question. Once you were done with the plant you sweetly whispered to it: "Better grow good for me buddy... you can do it."

You had to hold back a scoff when you saw Beetlejuice shiver unexpectedly at the sound of your cooing voice beside you. Boy... was he sensitive...

You wiped your dirty hands at the coat you were wearing. It was his striped long jacket. He gave it to you to garden in it, it was way too big for you... but the earthy smell of fresh rain clinged to it. It smelled like him, and you found yourself wearing it all the time actually. It just... felt... nice? Beej declared: "You look way too hot in it to not wear it all the time".... You felt like he was near you when you wore it. Which... obviously... he literally was clinging at you, any chance he got. But you loved to have your clingy ghost around.

After you wiped your hands you took his hand into yours, squeezed it a little and smirked at him: "Awh.... somebody betting jalous Beej?"

He coffed and tried to look offended but you noticed the blush that was creeping up his face. And if you missed that delicate clue,

his now hot-pink hair was less subtle to miss.

You felt the incredible strong urge to kiss his stubble in that exact moment, he was just so...vurnable.

You leaned down towards him and soflty brushed your lips against his in a sweet innocent kiss. When you pulled back you heared him whimper a bit at the loss of contact, and you had to chuckle softly at his antics.

You beamed a happy smile his way and chirped: "Everyting grows faster with the right amount of love..." You pecked him on his scruffy cheek and scratched his head a bit. Beetlejuice leaned into your hand and as you massaged his head you heard him purr softly at your touch. You mumbled: "... doesnt it Beej?"

He responded with another purr, and with that you gently brought your attention back to your plants. He sighed and grumpily whined at you: "Babessssss...."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't supress a smile seeping through your face as you replied: "...yeah, what's it dear?"

He really acted like a 5 year old sometimes.

Tugging your sleeve to get your attention he asked with a dramatic flourish: "What's your favorite flower doll? Of alllllll these?" Big hand gestures followed his scentence.

You scratched your chin while you poundered about that question. Getting your chin full of black dirt in the process, Beetlejuice softly snorted at your actions. You were too into your head to notice though. 'He would tell you... Maybe... later. Even when your face was smeared with dirt you was angelic...' he decided.

"Well... uhm... That must be... the lavender." You spoke thoughtfully as you looked at the ghost besides you.

You saw him frowning a bit, he was clearly in doubt about something. You reached out to his knee, and you delicately brushed it with your dirty hands. The gesture to calm him down seemed to work, as his features became less troubled he murmered: "... Hey babes... which... which ones are those? Can you show me?"

You smiled at him and nodded yes.

Beetlejuice already jumped up and was bouncing up and down in excitement, he reached out to pull you up from the place where you were sitting. You smiled widely at a very excited bouncing beetlejuice and took a hold of his hands.

With one swift movement he pulled you on your feet and you blushed as his strong arms caught you as you fell flush against him. Your nose was inches apart from his when you felt him snaking an arm around your waist to pull you even closer to him and heard him hum contently. He booped his nose against yours and purred in a serious tone: "Lavender you said, doll?"

You pecked his lips softly, nodded, took his hand and skipped to were you held your lavender.

"Tadaaaaaah!" You chuckled. "This... sweet sweet Beej... is laveder." You gestured grandly towards were your favorite pland grew. "Go one baby... smell it! It smells so gooooood." You tugged him towards the flowers with a demanding pull on his suspenders. Beetlejuice sniffed the flowers, almost like a dog would snif it too. With very short breaths and sniffs he pulled back and exclaimed: "I like it doll... it smells a bit like... ehm..."

He pushed his nose in the flowers again, sniffing loudly as he did so. With a low growl he pulled back, took a hold of your (or his old) striped coat and pulled you towards him. His nose attacked your neck before you could protest and your breath hitched as you felt his stubble brush against your neck.

Beetlejuice sniffed deeply, inhaling your scent and a low growl escaped his throath again. He pulled back abrubtly, moaning and mumbling under his breath as he did so:

"Smells so nice. It smells just like you babes."

It was a good thing he held onto your coat that tightly, because your knees were like jelly. Your neck was a soft spot, and this combined with his low voice had you riled up in seconds. The smug look on Beetlejuice's face showed exaclty how well he knew all that. You looked at him and murmered: "You... are... a true demon you... Also you're right, i use lavender in my soap."

He winked at you, and released his grip on your coat a bit as he spoke: "Ya betcha, doll."

You stood on your tiptoes and reached out to ruffle his hair, with a playfull giggle. He gripped your wrist and pulled you towards him again, so he could properly kiss you. Between kisses you asked him: "Hey Beej... what's your favorite flower?"

He chuckled deeply, stroking your cheek and said: "Besides you...? I dont know. Let me check..."

He let his gaze wander around the garden for a little while and after a little while you saw his eyes lit up a bit. He snapped his fingers and you were left in a cloud of green smoke for a second. You blinked once... twice... and just when you were about to call his name you were startled by a loud scream behind you.

"BOO!!"

You squeeked in fright and jumped at the loud sound behind you. Immediately Beetlejuice started laughing hysterically and you slowly turned around, catching your breath again when you did so.

You were about to give him a lecture about not scaring his girlfriend (again) but the corners of your mouth moved upwards as you took in the sight before you.

Beetlejuice was floating on his side, in a semi-wannabe-sexy-pose... with a thistle between his teeth. A freaking thistle. Smiling at you seductively, with a very smug look on his face.

Now it was your turn to laugh.

This man... this demon... certainly had readed way too many romans in his undead life.

Once you stopped lauging he turned around mid air, twirling a circle in the air until he hang upside down above you. He placed the thistle in your hair, carefull not to sting you in the process, and placed a kiss on the top of your head as he shouted unexpectedly: "CATCH!!"

You held your arms out in shock and he dramatically fell into them. A proud smile creeping up his face as he adored you, while lounging in your arms. Dramatically laughing he cheered: "My hero! Thanks for catching sweet-cheeks..."

You snorted and rolled your eyes in annoyance. It was a good thing he was a ghost and therefore was as light as a feather.

He snapped his fingers, dissapearing into green smoke again but this time he appeared behind you. Hugging you tight as his head leaned on your shoulder. You turned your head slightly and whispered in his ear: "... dissapear one more time and I'll let you sleep outside tonight..."

He snuggled closer towards you, kissed your cheek and growled softly: "Okay... i get it doll... i just... really like thistles...?" You smiled at that.

You squeeled loudly when Beetlejuie unexpectedly licked your chin.

"Beej!! Whatthehell?!"

He tickled your sides and chuckled at the high pitched scream he got out of you. He growled in your ear: "You had some dirt on your chin babes... But you are all clean now..."

That demon was gonna be the death of you once. Your knees were once again all jelly. He snapped his fingers and with a smirk against your neck he handed you a thistle "... to make it up?" Beetlejuice softly purred.

Right then you decided that you would never call thistles weed, ever in your life again. They were your new favorite bouquet, together with the lavender.

"Hey Beej.... I know another way you could make up to me..." You mumbled seductively against his scruff.

This time he snapped his fingers again, and the green smoke took you both out of the garden.

Tagging: @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @little-miss-shy-goth @thats-specific @vicunaburger @ironmansuucks @h1de-s0urce @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss