#when beej asks

[beetlejuicexlydia]

“how are all my little juice-boxes today?” 🧃

[graff-aganda]

YESSSSS SOMEONE WHO LIKES MASH YESSSSSSSSSS

OMG haha..!! MASHheads of the world, we must rise. 💪😤

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

in your humble opinion do you think that justin collettes beej voice, sounds a bit more like moviejuices compared to alex's

like or am i just going insane 😭

tbh i have not kept up that much with justin but i do think he sounds way more movie... movie juice has sort of a western american accent with a lot of weird pitch changes in the middle of sentences which makes him feel very manic, which is a fun take

[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Rather Short and Sharp Descent (Beetlejuice One-Shot)

Betelgeuse x AFAB!GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: When you'd struck a deal with the demonic ghost, you'd not expected to fall for him. Perhaps less so, you hadn't expected to be tumbling quite down this path...

Fic Type: Smut (dumbification, daddy kink, slight degradation tw)

Everything Tag List: @winchxters  @calliopesdiary

Betelgeuse Tag List: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Had it been two hours or three? More? You can't remember- you can't even remember what time of the day it is. You can remember the magically altered sets of fingers and tongues that have thoroughly fucked you from the inside out, though.

It's not like he'd let you forget that, anyway.

“Aww, lookit that, dollface. Nothin’ in there, huh? Good. That’s the way ol’ Beej likes it. Doin’ a good job, babe.”

You tried to respond, but it just came out as a garbled moan.

"Yeah, that's it. Just a little fuckinnn mess for me, aintcha?"

Your brows pinched, mouth dropping open as his fingers felt like they pulsed inside you. They probably did, knowing him. Beej laughed above you, eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure. Oh, he was going to make you work for it.

"B-Beej," you drooled, and he pouted at you mockingly in response.

"Look atcha, tryin' to make sentences and everything. It'd be cute if it weren't so pathetic, huh?" Another second and his free hand swatted at your ass, the sting biting- not that you didn't love the pain. "Beej, Beej, Beej, huh? Yeah, you fuckin' love me an' my thick fuckin' cock, babe."

And you did. You couldn't wait for him to fuck you with it. That ache begging for him inside you was starting to make you antsy. Sure you had his physically altered fingers buried inside you, but it wasn’t the same. God, it would never be the same as having him leer over you, cock twitching from the inside. 

Truth be told, you weren’t even sure how you’d managed to get yourself into this situation in the first place. You’d found a flyer that had quite literally blown into your face on the street one day and said the name three times with such disbelief that you had all but died of a heart attack when the being belonging to said name appeared so suddenly and with a ridiculous amount of theatrics.

Then it was on to the business of making deals, of course. Betelgeuse had let you know in his round-a-bout way that he’d noticed you had a pesky little problem that needed fixing and he was more than happy to do the job. There was, of course, just the matter of payment, though. Sure, he could scare the absolute fuck out of your roommate until they fucked off into the sunset but not without payment. Nothing much, not your soul or anything. No, what Betelgeuse wanted from you was, of all things… a kiss. 

Naturally, you’d been suspicious that planting one (with tongue, as he had insisted) onto a demonic ghost with a penchant for absolute chaos wouldn’t come with any other side effects, such as selling your soul over or something. But a kiss? Just one kiss? Surely that wouldn’t be too bad. 

As it turns out, it didn’t have any side effects that you were expecting. Instead, it led you down a path with a rather short and sharp descent into the circles of Hell. Sin, specifically. Either way, it was a short path with many tongues, fingers and cocks to ease your way down. 

You didn’t even realise how fast you fell for him. Nor he for you, most likely. But soon enough he was around often enough that you couldn’t call it a fling any more. This was something different. You’d caught him sizing your ring finger the other night, actually. Eyeballing it, mostly, but you could tell what that eye meant. 

“‘Ey, babe- you in there? Or are y’too fucked dumb to respond anymore, huh?” 

You groaned, thoughts hazing in and out a little, though they were brought sharply into focus as he withdrew his fingers and stuck his rather long tongue out to lick them clean.

Seeing your hungry gaze, he offered them to you next—an offering you took up without an ounce of hesitation. Fuck, you tasted good. 

Those very same fingers slid from your mouth and down around your throat, brushing against the thrum of your pulse beneath your soft, thin skin. It would take almost nothing for him to kill you. But he wouldn’t. He was too fond of you- his favourite Flesh Bag as he called you. 

His eyes glinted above you, drinking in the sight of your spit-slick lips, red and swollen. Your throat pressed against his fingers, warmer than you’d expect for a dead man. Slowly, softly, he pushed you down onto your back, legs bent and spread wide for him to slot his hips between. 

Finally, finally, you were going to get what you needed. 

“Uh-uh, my precious little dummy, not yet. You think you deserve this cock? D’you really? Think hard on it now, hard as I know that is for your empty little brain.” 

“Y-yes,” you replied almost instantly, trying to roll your hips against him- trying to goad him into fucking you dumb just the way you like. Well. Dumber. 

“‘Y-yes’ what, babe?” 

Risking a glance at his expression, your mouth practically watered at the carnal look there. Dark, hungry. He wanted this just as much as you did. Needed it, even, perhaps. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“That’s it. That’s fuckin’ it, babe. Fuckin daddy-o, that’s me.” 

You rolled your eyes, starting to come out of the haze a little now despite the slap of his cock against your clit. He was doing it to tease you, the fucker. 

“Beej, if you don’t hurry up and fuck me, I might go genuinely insane.” 

“Ladies and gents,” Betelgeuse snorted, talking to an invisible audience. “Can’t keep ‘em off me, eh? Desperate little thing. Cute though.” 

But despite the pleasure he usually got from torturing you from hours on end (you think as if he hadn’t just spent the last two to three hours fingerfucking you to oblivion), he gave in, softly rolling his hips against you- sinking inside so slowly you almost felt like yelling at him to just hurry up. 

“Ohh, fuck me,” you moaned, head dropping back against the pillows as he finally sunk completely inside you. The thing about Beej was that he was always able to alter any of his shapes to be exactly what you needed when you needed it. And today, he knew you wanted someone on the larger side. Not that you wouldn’t be happy with average, either, but sometimes there was just a need for something a little more specific. Beej knew that, too. 

“Alright, alright,” he huffed amusedly, punctuating the sentence with one of his very unique laughs. “Shut up for me a sec, babe,” he said, placing a hand over your mouth as he pulled back and slammed back against you. “Yeah, that’s it.” 

He set a punishing pace, eyes rolling quite literally into the back of his head with pleasure. While the object of torture had been you over the last few hours, there was some element of torture for him, too, not being able to sink balls deep into your tight little cunt and fuck you until he was sated. But not anymore. 

Slowly as he fucked you, his hand slipped from your mouth, allowing your pretty moans to escape into the heated air. Betelgeuse moaned, running his hand down your throat and down your side to grip at your hip. His fingers squeezed harshly into the soft muscle there, and you tilted your hips as best as you could to rock back against him. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Betelgeuse groaned, leaning down to shower sharp bites down your neck and shoulders. He always had been a biter. There was something about the contrast of the blood coming to the surface under the skin, the way those indents slowly softened into pretty bruises spreading across your skin like a grim meadow that drove him insane. “Not gonna last long, babe.” 

That was okay with you, you weren’t going to last long either. You hadn’t realised how fast you were approaching your orgasm- and the deadline skyrocketed closer as his hand disappeared between your legs where you were most sensitive. 

“God, fuck, Beej- I, fuck, like that, please,” you cried out, reaching out to encircle your arms around his shoulders. You pulled him down and over you. From an outside perspective, you were absolutely sure that he would look like a violent predator about to rip apart his prey. 

His hips fucked into you without mercy, fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area. Your mouth was open in a practically permanent ‘o’- something that Betelgeuse took full advantage of as his lips landed on yours. His tongue flicked at your lower lip and it was that in conjunction with the savage thrust of his hips and non-stop-just-right fingers that catapulted you right over that edge. 

With a cry you weren’t sure actually made any sound or not, you felt your pleasure bubble over like a boiling pot on a stove, spilling over the edges and roiling up your spine. You could feel your orgasm all the way in your toes and even in your scalp, you realised distantly. 

Oh, wait, no, that was Betelgeuse’s fingers knotted in your hair, pulling as he chased his own orgasm now, hips choppy yet brutal. Every thrust forced your orgasm out longer, tingles of pleasure shooting through your nerves even as you started to come down from it. 

“Oh, oh, yeah, that’s it, babe. Fuckin little toy for daddy, aintcha- yeah,” he rambled with pleasure, eyes screwed tight as he finally, finally came- 

You sagged into the bed as he slowly stopped thrusting, cock still inside you. With a grunt, he laid down on top of you, forcing a grunt out of you as he did so. Your hand raised lazily to rub at his back. 

“Fuck, Beej,” you panted, eyes drifting closed as the glow started to overtake you. “You’re going to ruin me.” 

Betelgeuse snorted playfully, already starting to recover. He had a freaky ability to be able to go, and go, and go- and then barely need rest afterwards. Perks of being dead, you supposed. 

“What, like I ain’t already?” 

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. 

[beetleoops]

You keep getting married to Beetlejuice

This fucker loves to party (and he loves you), so you are having weddings constantly

You officially get married in private, with only Lydia, the Deetzs and the Maitlands there. You take it easy so he can adjust to being alive, but Delia still throws a pretty fun party- if a little...odd. Still, it's enough for Beetlejuice to learn his alcohol tolerance isn't NEARLY as high now that he has a heartbeat.

"Babes!! I cannot fuckin wait to get married to you all over again." He's half asleep, laying his entire weight on you, reeking of booze, smiling like a dope. "Uh-huh. Me too, Beej." You pat his back.

(Also, turns out now that he sleeps for real, he snores. you think its cute.)

Once he's human (and more or less used to it), you have a more traditional wedding with your friends and family all there, and throw an all night reception and after party at a bar - beej loves the energy and is cheering on your grandparents to throw ass on the dance floor all night

"Fuck it up Agnes! Hell yeah!" (This is probably not your grandma's name. Actually, is that even your grandma?)

This goes over not great, but better than expected; everyone has a good time. You do too, of course. You are drunk and wearing white and laughing so loud, and when you aren't dancing, Beetlejuice can barely keep his hands off you. Hell, when you ARE dancing Beetlejuice can't keep his hands off you.

you go to Las Vegas for the honeymoon and get married again - Beej insists on the most tacky wedding possible and you agree.

You get married by an Elvis impersonater in a sticky little chapel on the strip. You wear a suit, and he wears a tight, short wedding dress with a veil and pumps.

"third time's the charm?" You ask, when Elvis finally says to kiss the groom. " Oh no, babes. We're hitting the drive through wedding chapel next."

"Deal!" And you dip him before kissing him square in the mouth.

You keep getting married to Beetlejuice, because you both want to make fucking SURE it sticks.

[hoodoo12]

Bad Date (2/2)

The conclusion. Beetlejuice takes his reward.

NSFW. Beetlejuice x f!reader

You’d walked home arm in arm with Beetlejuice, but he didn’t follow you inside once you were through your door.

“Gotta get rid of this thing,” he explained, holding up the baby sandworm he’d carried back from the restaurant.

He hadn’t crushed it under his heel, like he wanted to, because of your gasp of horror--“It’s just a baby!”--but he also refused to let you keep it even though you thought it was sort of cute in a look-but-don’t-touch-it kind of way.

“Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable, baby,” he continued, “and I’ll be back in a wink.”

You didn’t know how long a trip to Saturn actually took, but you agreed eagerly. You were so glad he’d come to your rescue!

Beetlejuice was gone between one blink and the next, and you locked your door behind you.

⁂

Something more comfortable, huh? You knew what he had in mind. You kicked off your heels and shed your dress. Your bra and panty set was lacy but plain pink. Digging through your drawers, you found a matching set that was black and silk, which would be more to his fancy. You debated a garter belt and stockings; most guys seemed to like them but Beetlejuice wasn’t most guys, and lots of time they were more in the way than worth it.

In the end you decided against them. Maybe you'd wear them in the future for him.

You sat, then stood, then sat again. You were full of nervous energy and just wanted him to get back from dumping that sandworm. Then, just when you thought maybe you should get a robe because you were getting chilly, he reappeared.

He looked just as put out as he did when you summoned him in the restaurant’s restroom, and he was covered in a fine layer of yellow dust.

“You’re back!” you said happily, redundantly.

Beetlejuice didn’t seem as elated as you were. “Gods, it’s been a solid day and a half since I sat down,” he groaned.

That didn’t make any sense to you; less than forty minutes ago he’d been sitting at your table at the restaurant, threatening your date. The hard expression on his face didn’t give you any room to mention that discrepancy, however.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you said instead.

He nodded, and looked over at you as if seeing you standing there for the first time. His eyes skipped down your mostly naked body, and a smirk slid oily across his face. It wasn’t the most pleasant expression.

“Oh. Right. This,” he said, and that wasn’t reassuring, either.

You opened your mouth to ask what the hell was going on; from what he’d said and how he’d looked you over you thought he’d wanted some action, but he continued before you could say anything.

“You said you owed me. Back at the restaurant, for saving you from that d-bag. Right?”

You had to agree.

The smirk on his lips lifted to a leer that showcased some of his sharper teeth. “And remember? I told you not to go on that date.”

That made you frown a little; it toed the line of possessiveness.

“You refuse to put a name to what we have, Beej, so there’s no reason for me not to think about dating other people!” you retorted, a little sharply.

Your response made him drop his chin and examine you from under his brows. It made you feel like you were under a microscope; it made him look a little dangerous. You didn’t cow away under his intense gaze, however; although you could feel one hand start to tremble, you stood your ground.

Finally he said, “Well then, baby, I think a little punishment is in order, don’t you?”

You wanted to snap something sharp back at him again, but a bolt of cold, then hot, fell and rose in your gut. Some of your sexual encounters with Beetlejuice were hard, simple fucking with few niceties or gentle romantic gestures, but nothing had ever stepped over the line into “punishment” territory. Did he mean spanking? Did he mean he expected you to suck his dick hard and exactly how he wanted it, with lots of spit and gasping for air like in a porno?

Or was it something even more?

You couldn’t deny that although a bit of worry wormed through you, it excited you too.

Beetlejuice didn’t seem to care you hadn’t answered him. In your silence he boldly looked you over again and said,

“That’s not bad, but--”

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow, and your bra and panties went from solid black to black and white striped. You should have known. He snapped his fingers and between one breath and the next you were suddenly on your bed, flat on your back. The blankets and top sheet had disappeared, and so had your pillows. Beetlejuice stood at the end of the bed, fully clothed, and staring down at you.

You moved to sit up.

“No. Nope!” he corrected you immediately, and an invisible hand forced you back down.

“I won’t make these too tight, babydoll,” he assured you, and before you could protest or ask what, exactly, he meant by that, your arms were stretched above your head and your wrists were held firmly by skeletal hands that appeared out of your headboard.

“Hey! Beej!” you exclaimed, slightly alarmed. You twisted against the restraint, a little.

In a flash, he was beside you on the mattress instead of standing at your feet. He leaned in close enough that you could smell the dirt on his breath, but not close enough to kiss you. He grabbed one of your wrists lightly, stilling your movement.

“Trust me,” he said in a low voice. It was almost, almost, a question.

You searched his face, especially his eyes, but despite the unexpected restraint and his announcement of “punishment” earlier, you didn’t find anything malicious hiding there. You couldn’t deny you were a little concerned, but you did trust him. So you nodded.

A quick, pleased smile flitted across his face, and he let your wrist go. The hands kept you in place.

“Now. I think one more thing would be a good idea--”

The last thing you saw was him lifting one eyebrow in your direction again before a blindfold covered your eyes.

Although surprised, you stopped yourself from crying out this time. From the weight and feel of the fabric on your face, you guessed it was his tie.

The mattress shifted as Beetlejuice got off the bed. Blinded and restrained, you didn’t know where he was in the room. He could still be beside you, at the foot of the bed again, or floating right above you! The unknown made you shiver a little, and it was hard to tell if it was in worry or anticipation.

You waited.

And waited.

And waited.

There was no sound of movement; no creak of a floorboard or subtle rustling of his clothing. There was nothing touching you. You felt suspended, with no stimulus but the mattress under you, the bony fingers holding your wrists, and the slightly moldy smelling cloth draped over your eyes. It was hard to relax when you didn’t know what to expect.

You waited some more.

Suddenly a horrible thought ambushed you.

What if Beetlejuice put you in this position, making you feel exposed and vulnerable, and then he just left you here?!

There was still no sound of anyone else in the room. He didn’t breathe and could be as quiet . . . well, as quiet as the dead when he wanted to be.

The same dread thought rushed through your mind again. Did he leave you here alone? Was this the punishment he meant?!

You pulled against the skeletal restraints but they held you fast. You tossed your head back and forth to try and loosen the blindfold. Gulping and tasting the beginnings of panic, you weren’t too proud or embarrassed to call for him. You opened your mouth to ask where he was, yell, demand to know what was going on--

Before the words came, a finger slipped between your lips.

You were so surprised you let your mouth hang open for a moment. The finger moved past your teeth and nudged your tongue. It had a mild flavor that you imagined dust might taste like, and you didn’t let yourself think about it any further than that. A second finger dipped into your slack jaw, and with two of them pressing your tongue you closed your mouth on them and sucked.

A short chuckle came from somewhere to your left. At least you knew where he was now.

Parting his fingers with your tongue, you gave them both attention. When he must have felt they were sufficiently wet, he dislodged them. You nipped the tips of them as they retreated back past your teeth, and Beetlejuice made a slightly deeper noise.

For a second you were disconnected again, then his fingers moved down the side of your neck, to the hollow between your collar bones, to between your breasts, leaving a drying trail of spit in their wake.

He lifted them, and you found them against your lips again. You opened your mouth with no reluctance for him.

His fingers rooted in your mouth once more, and again you sucked and licked them. This time when he pulled away a thin moan escaped you, following after them. He repeated the trail he’d made the first time on the opposite side of your neck and down, ending at the fabric holding your bra together in the front.

There was a beat of a pause, and finally the mattress shifted as he joined you, crawling up between your legs.

You thought he was on your left?

Never mind. You automatically hooked your legs around him and earned a “tsk” in displeasure in return. The next thing you knew, thin bony hands grabbed your ankles and your legs were straightened and spread to accommodate him without your needy demand.

Spread-eagled before him made you feel even more exposed, but at least you knew where he was now.

Beetlejuice must have settled on his knees because you could feel only feel the outer fabric of his trousers between your legs. Then his hands were on you: stroking your sides from armpit to hips, pinching occasionally. It both tickled and made your skin warm, and you wiggled a little under the caress. It didn’t feel like he was sitting back on his heels. You couldn’t quite picture the posture he was in; he must be straining over you, holding himself at an awkward angle so no other part of his body touched you--

When his hands left your sides and cupped your breasts, giving you a sharper pinch through the fabric of your bra, you gave up trying to figure out what position he was in.

He stroked your chest in long movements too. You were frustrated by the lack of skin on skin contact before he was, and had to endure him playing with your tits but not actually stimulating them exactly how you liked for much longer than you wanted. By the time he was bored with it too, your nipples were hard and the fabric brushing against them hurt a little.

Luckily, Beetlejuice wasn’t known for never-ending patience. Just as you were going to tell him to hurry up, already--and damn the consequences--you heard the faintest snapping of his fingers and suddenly, your tits were free and exposed.

The sudden brush of cooler air made you nipples tighten even more, and once again you heard a chuckle from him.

His fingers closed around them. After the muted stimulation, that touch was like an electrical shock and you arched towards him with a gasp. He rolled and pulled them gently, continuing to make you gasp, and when the mattress shifted again and his mouth closed over one of them, you bucked and moaned.

Beetlejuice’s tongue and mouth weren’t room temperature, but not warm either. The shock of him taking a nipple into his wet mouth made you involuntarily try to reach down and grab his head, but you were held in place by the restraints. This time you felt him laugh at your aborted effort, and he sucked at you until you writhed and cried out. He continued to play with the other one, then switched to give them both the same attention.

Each suck and nibble sent pleasure down your body, where it settled deep in your gut and groin. You couldn’t help but want friction between your legs, but Beetlejuice wasn’t touching you there and your thighs were held apart. That built a different frustration in you.

Finally, he released you from the torment he’d given your now-tender nipples. Before you could say anything, his mouth found a patch of skin lower on your rib cage that it liked, and he sucked there too.

He kissed and licked and sucked his way over your torso, once darting up to your neck to latch on there. You felt the pressure of his teeth indent the thin skin and turned your head, not to displace him, but to give him freer access to the spot. As you did, he stilled completely and you froze too. Arousal tempered with a drop of fear swirled through you; you wondered what was going through his mind?

Beetlejuice didn’t break your skin. The intent was there, you could tell. Instead, after that long moment of anticipation, he released you.

You were panting as you turned your head back upright again. You could feel he hadn’t moved away, and a slight breath on your face clued you in that he panted as well. Some of his breather habits came to the surface in situations like this. You couldn’t see him, of course, but thought that if you lifted your head up off the mattress you’d find his mouth.

He obviously didn’t want you to move; if you dared try to kiss him, what would he do next? Would another skeletal hand come from nowhere to cross your forehead and pin your head to the mattress?

You decided not to risk it.

Beetlejuice’s hands roamed down your body again, and just as you felt him shift to move away again, his tongue licked a vertical stripe up over your lips. It startled you and you gasped; the tip of it darted inside for a split second but before you could open your mouth more for a proper kiss, it was gone again. The next noise you made was a sigh of disappointment as he continued to work his way back down your body.

He gave you the same attention as before. Sucking. Licking. Nipping. There wasn’t a spot on your front that he hadn’t lavished some attention on. A faint odor of stale saliva drifted to you from the amount of spit he’d coated you with, but you didn’t care. You wiggled under him, gasped and moaned, and tried to nudge him further down. You wanted him and his mouth between your legs.

Even though he hadn’t done anything--not even cupped you, not even dragged a solitary finger along the fabric of your panties, not even come close enough that you could feel his clothing brush you there--your pussy felt hot. You were wet. You just wanted this teasing to stop and for him to pay some attention there--

As if reading your mind, Beetlejuice shifted and plopped himself down between your legs. He was no longer on his knees but on his stomach; you could feel his--unclothed? When did that happen?--shoulders pushing your thighs further apart. His fingernails dug under the top edge of your panties.

When you lifted your hips so he could pull them off you--gods how you wanted him to pull them off you, or make them disappear like your bra, or something--he let the elastic snap back into place.

You groaned.

You didn’t care any more. You were going to beg him--

Beetlejuice’s mouth covered your pussy.

His hands kept you grounded by holding your hips. He didn’t strip you naked; he mouthed and licked and sucked you through your panties. The silk became heavy and soaked completely through with the combination your wetness and his spit, and the smooth feel of the fabric between your clit and his tongue made you writhe.

You cried out. You pulled against the restraints, all of them, you wanted to grab his head, you wanted to squeeze him with your thighs to hold him in place, you wanted him to suck your clit so hard, you wanted him to push aside your panties and shove those fingers that had been in your mouth into your pussy--you wanted not just that but his tongue and his cock inside you--

Your cries turned to sobs as he teased you. Bliss ratcheted higher and higher in your gut. Even with sodden fabric preventing direct contact between the two of you, you were going to come. Your throat tightened, your limbs shook with the force of the tension you used straining against the hands holding you back. Your hips canted instinctually to provide him better access and that first spark of an orgasm rippled through you--

Beetlejuice stopped.

All touching ceased. His mouth was no longer against the wet mess your panties had become. You hadn’t realized how tightly he’d been gripping your hips until his hands were off you too.

The abrupt lack of contact made you cry out in a different voice, filled with distress and bafflement. For a moment your body arched towards him, still seeking stimulation. You couldn’t hold the position for long, pulling against the restraints, however, and you flopped back to the mattress with another sob.

Your body shifted as Beetlejuice moved over one of your legs to be beside you. The movement made air current drift over your body and you shivered due to the sweat that had broken out over you.

This was not what you expected when he said “punishment”. You could have accepted and even gotten into a spanking. You would have been okay with him using you like a slut. But a tormenting tease with no finale? It was almost too cruel.

A finger hooked under your blindfold and pushed it away. You felt too weak and disappointed to thank him for removing it. You just wanted the bony hands on your wrists and ankles to be spirited away as well, so you could curl into a fetal position and try to will your body to forget all the pleasure it’d just been subjected to and then denied. You imagined that Beetlejuice was going to tell you that he was leaving and that you weren’t allowed to touch yourself; he’d be watching and if you brought yourself to orgasm he’d probably be devious enough to repeat what he did tonight the next time you got together with him too.

When you opened your eyes, however, the sight that greeted you wasn’t what you expected.

Beetlejuice was naked, as you’d surmised, coated in a thin layer of sweat, like you. The yellow dust that had been on his clothing had left a thin coating on his neck. His hair was wilder than normal, and his lips were shiny as he mimicked breathing through his mouth. His pupils were blown in deep arousal. His erection pressed heavily into your side.

Once again, he interrupted you as you opened your mouth to say something to him. With his lips near your ear, he groaned in a guttural voice,

“This was supposed to be punishment. A punishment! For you and me. Neither of us was going to get off, neither of us deserve it--”

He choked his own words off with another wordless groan as he involuntarily rutted against you.

You tried to wrap your head around what he just said. You weren’t quite able to.

“Beej, just . . . what?” you panted.

His lips found your neck and ear and he dragged his tongue along your skin. He continued to caress you sloppily between words.

“It was supposed to be punishment for both of us, baby,” he groaned. “You for going out on a goddamn date and me for not telling you I want you for my-goddamned-self. I want you, baby, I don’t want you seeing anyone else. I wanted to get you so hot and bothered and then stop, just for a tease, just to show you there's no one but me who can make you feel so good, but the sounds you made and the taste of you--fuck--I’m so fucking turned on I just want to fuck you so much right now--”

His voice rose to a desperate, needy whine at the last word. You were so wet between your legs you didn’t know it was possible to get even wetter, but heat surged through you again.

“Beej, Beej--” you croaked to get his attention. When he lifted his face to yours you said in the same desperate tone, “I learned my lesson. Did you learn yours?”

“Fuck, baby. Shit. Yeah!”

You looked him dead in the eyes. “Then get these hands off me and fuck me.”

At your demand, a surprised then lecherous smile broke over his face. He kissed you properly then, his tongue diving into your mouth and stealing your breath. The next second your arms and legs were released and you dragged him bodily on top of you. With his weight pressing you down you tried to shimmy out of your dripping panties; with a flicking motion of his finger Beetlejuice assisted and made them disappear as well.

With one hand grabbing the back of his head and the other gripping his waist, you didn’t release him or his mouth as he reached between the two of you, adjusted himself and pushed forward, filling you in a single, delicious thrust with his cock. You cried out; he did too with a deeper noise, and he set a frantic, blistering pace that would have not worked if you hadn’t been so thoroughly aroused from all the provocation he’d graced you with.

Your pussy felt hot, slick, and tight. The friction was glorious and you didn’t check yourself as your fingernails dug into him. Usually this rough and swift thrusting was enough to undo him first, but this was exactly what you needed to make your nerve-endings explode again.

You came with a sustained cry, locking your legs around him to keep him deep inside you.

Beetlejuice rocked his hips a little, instinctually, but held mostly still as you were lost in waves of pleasure. Just as you were coming back to the surface and opened your eyes to focus on him again, his brow furrowed and he pushed forward, harder into you, moaning with an open mouth as he came too.

You were shaking. He was shaking. It took several moments for you to catch your breath and will your hands and legs to open enough to let him go. It took him an extra moment to unglue himself from your belly and torso. You noticed the palm that had held the back of his neck was coated with that yellow grime, but you couldn’t make yourself care. Carefully he sat back, and you groaned in a combination of pleasure and disappointment as his cock slipped out of you.

Beetlejuice crawled over your leg and collapsed on the mattress beside you.

The two of you lay panting in euphoric exhaustion. You may have made a mistake going out with some random guy, but the evening couldn’t have ended any better. You turned to face Beetlejuice, to thank him for coming to your rescue and for the best punishment you’d ever received.

Just as you opened your mouth, your stomach growled. He looked at you with a smirk, so you slapped him lightly on the chest.

“I didn’t actually get to eat dinner, remember?” you informed him, instead of telling him the things you meant to. You sat up, swung your feet over the side of the bed, and stood up. As you made your way to the door, you asked, “You want anything from the kitchen?”

“Nope. I don’t like seeing you leave, but I love watching you go.”

You threw an eye roll over your shoulder at him but didn’t hide your grin. You could thank him later, and you were sure he knew how you felt anyway.

fin!

[rtfics]

That glare & Beej showing his love for Lydia.

In the counseling office Lydia says Beej's name once, so he screeches ( a' la the original movie) and binds her mouth. Her expression isn't one of fear or terror -- unlike Rory -- but of "Oh god, seriously, you're pulling this on me again, I could slap you, you jerk" that you have with someone you know well and who can irritate the fuck out of you, but you still want him around.

unmute

Later, Lydia rips off the stitches, proving that her lips weren't actually sewn shut, but the stitches were more like duct tape. Beej didn't do anything that would really cause her pain. And, more importantly, she has the power to defeat his power.

Beetlejuice grants Lydia autonomy over his admittedly massive powers. She apparently doesn't realize this yet -- she's pissed at him for the moment.

But, if this storyline follows logically, Lydia should eventually see Beetlejuice could pretty much force her to do anything, if he wanted. She should, I hope, notice that, as obnoxious and arrogant as he is, he gives her the choice in so many things.

In the counseling session he shuts up her just long enough to show what a coward Rory is -- he knows she'd interrupt. He shows how Rory refused to listen to what Lydia said about not saying Beej's name in order to force her to face her supposed delusion. If Lydia were paying attention she'd see Rory treats her as an inferior, that he thinks he knows what's best for her, that she isn't mature or clear-headed and therefore he needs to control her. Beetlejuice shows Lydia, not tells, that she can handle the strange and unusual and gross, but Rory has no stomach, or spine, for it. When Beej says "C'mere" to Lydia and draws her to him, he doesn't stop her from snapping "Home home home!" and leaving, which we can be pretty sure he could do.

He shows, not tells, Lydia what a lying, conning bastard Rory has been all along, and merely asks -- doesn't tell -- if she'd like to do something about it, and provides her with an aid -- the boxing glove -- to express her feelings.

My personal theory is Beetlejuice needs Lydia to decide for herself whether she warms to him or not. Twice he's made a deal with her and held up his end. Twice Lydia has broken her side of the bargain. But in neither case has he used his power to punish her for it. He stepped aside and helped her reconnect with her dead husband by going to "th' lil' Boys Room." He saved Astrid, not only from the Netherworld but from Jeremy. He saved Lydia from a bad marriage to a user who didn't love her. And, peripherally, he saved her from a life lost in a pill-popping fog, a life Rory kept her in as "an enabler" -- which Beej pointed out in the counseling session.

Sooner or later, Lydia should realize all this. Beetlejuice not shoving it in her face -- "HEY! I saver yer life an' yer daughter's life an' this is the thanks I get?!" -- shows he wants Lydia to come to this on her own, in her own time.

I mean, shit, what potential lover/boyfriend/husband all does this?

Once her anger at her life suddenly being up-ended fades, Lydia, being an intelligent woman now free of mind-numbing drugs, should awaken to the strange fact that Beetlejuice has actually been doing things in her interest more than in his.

[jadeluz-official]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice review - Beetlebabes Galore 

My rating: 8.7/10 

As far as sequels go, this one pays great homage to the original. More spoiler review under the cut. 

The Good

There's some great things about this film, BJ chasing Lydia down, Delores chasing Beej down, Wolf chasing everyone down, it kinda felt like a wacky hunger games. Of course there were problems with pacing, but it's just as gross and crude, if not more than the first movie. 

The wedding. God the wedding is so bonkers and pretty. I wish it just went on for a little longer. I know MK was running low on time at that point but the visuals with the church are so pretty. The blue/green atmosphere is something else. 

We get confirmation that Lydia is BJ's "love of his life" and fully intends to marry her again pretty early in the film. God Beej was such a loose canon in here and it was so fun to see him again. Every single scene he's trying to win her over, and Lydia's just not having it haha. This whole movie was such a shipfest and you can honestly leave the ending up to interpretation. I personally think they're married - they don't need rings. That scene where they end up in the bed was enough confirmation for me. 

The parallel with Astrid and Jeremy floating and Beetlebabes floating was my favorite thing the whole movie. Jeremy lets Astrid fall and won't help her back up but Beetlejuice makes sure he has a firm hold on Lydia. There's something about manipulation and revenge with Beej/Delores & Rory/Lydia too. Beej is coming from a place of genuine, disgusting love. Everyone else is doing it for their own gain. 

Wolf was also so fun to watch. He's a great addition to the BJ franchise as like a cop/criminal duo with him and BJ. I would've loved to see more of them interacting. Astrid's dad was also a total sweetheart. I wish he had just a little more time in the film. 

The Bad

I will say, the ending was very dissatisfying for BJ. He had done everything asked again, and Lydia signed an actual contract for the marriage this time. He saved Astrid from the Afterlife and saved Lydia from a doomed marriage. But hey, at least we got a hand kiss and that's all I needed LMAO 

Delores. Everything about her felt like an afterthought. We don't really see her much after she smashes Lydia's photo. She's made to be this huge threat and we don't really get to see it. There was a lot of missed potential drama with BJ and Lydia putting on the rings (which were cut, damn it all). I do like how they smashed Rory and Delores together with the sandworm though, girl was definitely thinking about going for him 😂

Astrid. She wasn't a bad character but she wasn't great. She was just very naive and I had a hard time liking her character. The Deetz are the opposite of naive, so it just felt off to me. And especially because Delia bites the bullet by venomous snake bites. It just felt like they were dumbed down just a tad too much. Lydia was the only one who kept a strong head the whole film. 

The tone of the film vs the trailers. In the trailers, we see a very serious nature about the film. Whereas in film, there's so many plots going on in such a small timeframe, it's a little hard to take anything seriously. And speaking of cut, the editing crew makes a hard zoom onto the ring on the floor and never does anything with the shot. There's def some editing issues/plot issues that got cut or scrapped. We'll have to see when the official script releases.

So....

It's a mess. But it's a fun mess. The visuals are beautiful, the characters are fun. It's such a fun rollercoaster of emotions. I'd definitely go see it again.

[blackenedsnow]

If you’re lookin’ for requests could we get a continuation of your Beetlejuice fic? Like, what sorts of things does Beej do through the house/apartment to prank you? What’s he do when/if you have to leave to go to work? I imagine he’d tag along incognito sometimes. How would that go? (I don’t send many fic requests so if this is a weird way to do it I’m sorry. But I figured if you’re asking for them I can brainstorm a little 😅)

dead guys got it made

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: No need to apologize! I love the direction you're taking with this. I'd be happy to continue the story!!

SUMMARY: Chaos ensues, of course

PART ONE: Here

The days after your reluctant agreement to let Beetlejuice stay in your home were, in a word, chaotic. He seemed to take your "don’t destroy the place" comment as more of a suggestion than an actual rule. Sure, he didn’t tear down walls or summon any maggots (yet), but there was plenty of mischief to go around.

You woke up one morning to find your living room furniture rearranged—your couch upside down on the ceiling, the TV somehow playing reruns of sitcoms from the ‘80s, and the floor covered in what looked like tiny plastic insects. You groaned, rubbing your temples as Beetlejuice appeared next to you, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Pretty good, huh?" he asked, looking up at the couch hanging from the ceiling. "Took me all night, but I think it really adds to the ambiance."

"BJ," you muttered, staring at the mess, "how many times do I have to tell you? No messing with the furniture."

He cackled, snapping his fingers. Instantly, the room righted itself—couch back on the floor, TV back to normal. But the plastic bugs? Still there. "Alright, alright, no more redecorating. But I gotta keep things interesting, babes. Can’t have you getting bored, now can we?"

You bent down to scoop up the bugs, sighing. "I’m starting to think my life was less stressful before you showed up."

"Ah, but way more boring," Beetlejuice quipped, following you into the kitchen as you grabbed a coffee mug. "Admit it, you’d miss me if I wasn’t around to spice things up."

You ignored him, focusing instead on your workday ahead. “I’ve got to head to work soon,” you said, mostly to yourself, as you filled your mug. “You’re staying here today, right?”

“Sure, sure,” he said with a wave of his hand, leaning against the counter. “I’ll be good. Maybe I’ll watch some TV, raid your fridge, haunt your neighbors—you know, normal dead guy stuff.”

You shot him a look, trying to gauge how much of that was a joke. You were still figuring him out, trying to balance how much you could tolerate and how much you liked having him around. It was… complicated. But lately, the thought of leaving him alone in your home was almost more stressful than having him tag along. Still, you weren’t sure you could handle Beetlejuice at work, of all places.

"Alright," you said, setting your mug down, "I’ll trust you. Just… try not to haunt anyone this time, okay?"

Beetlejuice smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Cross my heart, babe,” he said, drawing a line over his chest. You didn’t trust that for a second, but you had no choice but to leave him behind and head out.

At Work

Everything seemed fine at first. You settled into your routine, the normalcy of it all providing a brief reprieve from your unusual houseguest. But then, halfway through the morning, you noticed something off.

Your pen was missing. And not just missing—floating midair, inches from your hand.

"Beetlejuice.," you hissed under your breath, scanning the room for any sign of him. Sure enough, from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar flash of black and white dart behind a filing cabinet.

Of course he’d followed you. You should’ve known.

“Get back here,” you muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else saw the floating pen.

Suddenly, Beetlejuice appeared right next to you, leaning against your desk with a smug grin. He was dressed in some sort of disguise—a ridiculous pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap that didn’t hide anything. “Nice place you got here, babe. Real lively.”

You groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “I told you to stay at home.”

“Yeah, well, I got bored,” he said with a shrug. “Thought I’d see how my favorite breather spends their day.”

“This is not going to end well,” you mumbled, already dreading the inevitable..

The At-Work Antics

Beetlejuice, to his credit, tried to behave—for all of five minutes. Then the pranks began. It started small: pens going missing, your keyboard typing random words on its own. But as the day wore on, he grew bolder.

At one point, your boss, Mr. Thompson, came by to drop off some news. You tried to stay focused, nodding along as he talked, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw Beetlejuice sneaking up behind him, his eyes full of mischief.

"Don’t," you mouthed, but it was too late.

With a flick of his hand, Beetlejuice made Mr. Thompson’s tie start dancing—literally. The fabric wriggled and twisted as though it had a life of its own, and you watched in horror as your boss froze, staring down at his tie in confusion.

“What the—” Mr. Thompson muttered, tugging at the tie, but it kept moving.

You shot Beetlejuice a death glare, mouthing “Stop it” as discreetly as possible. He just winked, looking way too pleased with himself, and finally let the tie drop limp again.

Mr. Thompson blinked, bewildered, but seemed to shake it off. “Must be static or something,” he muttered before walking off, completely unaware of the ghostly trickster behind him.

You exhaled in relief. “Beej, I swear…”

“Hey, I didn’t get caught, did I?” Beetlejuice cackled, clearly enjoying himself. “Lighten up, honey. You gotta admit, that was funny.”

“You’re going to get me fired,” you hissed, though you couldn’t completely stifle the laugh bubbling up in your chest.

For the rest of the day, Beetlejuice stayed close, pulling small pranks here and there. A co-worker’s coffee inexplicably turned neon green, another’s stapler kept vanishing from their desk. Every time you saw that flash of stripes, your heart raced in equal parts anxiety and amusement.

After Work

By the time you made it home, you were exhausted. Beetlejuice had finally vanished, likely slipping back to your home long before you could leave. When you walked through the door, he was sprawled across the couch as usual, looking far too smug.

“Fun day at work?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re a menace,” you muttered, dropping your bag on the floor. “A complete and utter menace.”

“And yet, you didn’t banish me,” he shot back, his grin widening. “So… you really do love having me around.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite argue with him. As frustrating as it was having him tag along—and as much as he drove you crazy—you had to admit, life was a lot less lonely with him in it.

“Maybe,” you muttered, flopping onto the couch beside him. “Just… try not to get me fired next time, alright?”

Beetlejuice chuckled, tossing an arm around your shoulders. “No promises, toots. But I’ll try not to ruin your life.”

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

[irantforpleasure]

Beej and his total unfamiliarity with being on the receiving end of voluntary affection.

You reach a point of familiarity where you hug him goodbye before you leave or give him a kiss on the cheek and he's frozen, at first you worry you made him uncomfortable but when you apologise he says don't and asks for more.

Then you realise he's not used to being shown affection without demanding it from someone or tricking them and wants more attention but doesn't know what to do.

Bonus points of you're not great with social cues either, ditto, so when he says he wants more kisses or a longer hug leading into a long cuddle session you just give it to him, why not?

You've inadvertently made a demon at your mercy but unlike others you're not gonna seize that power, he'll just listen when you say "Beej honey, don't light that chair on fire"

[hawkeyeslaughter]

Do you have any (minor) headcanons that you have little to no evidence for but you just believe them as if they were the truth?

oh god of course i do

— the nurses taught klinger how to hem , alter , even make some of his own clothes ; he gets so good at it that sometimes they just come to him with their needs

— the uke ( ? ) that hawkeye has hanging in the swamp ? he knows how to play it surprisingly well , he just never does unless drunker than usual

— radar put soles in his boots one time that made him taller and it took even hawkeye like a solid week to figure out what was different about him ( once he did , though , radar had no refuge from the teasing )

— the nurses hold regular gossip sessions and sometimes compare notes on the guys of the 4077th

— margaret knows how to cut hair , taught herself how to cut her own ( because she got sick of barbers not cutting it the way she wanted ) . has more than once had to come to the rescue of nurses who have marred their hair by taking the scissors to it

— in college bj was a relentless and revered hazer ( which is funny considering he barely got through his own hazing )

— hawkeye’s use of petnames ( “ darling “ , “ sweetheart “ , “ baby “ , etc etc ) are all picked up from trapper . prior to meeting him he hardly ever used them

— when oliver got his orders home , trapper and hawkeye threw him a rager in the swamp and were very badly hungover for their actual goodbye the next day

— father mulcahy has that thing where he hears a tune and can instantly play it on the piano

— charles falls asleep regularly during movie nights hawkeye and beej drag him to , usually on hawkeye’s shoulder

— trapper is colorblind . not like , drastically colorblind , but hawkeye finds out one day and teases him absolutely relentlessly for it

— trapper and oliver always did this bit where they pretended they were whispering things and wouldn’t tell hawkeye what they were saying because it was funny to watch hawkeye get all huffy and annoyed with them

— henry has to do the right / left things with his hands all the time ( PLSASE ITS SO STUPID )

— margaret has a crazy sweet tooth + sometimes bj asks peg to send sweets back specifically for margaret

— potter’s horse or pet names in general very rarely alter because he just can’t be bothered to come up with new creative ones . besides , tried and true always works

— klinger is a pool shark . idk why he is he just is . he has pool shark vibes

— trapper briefly considered going into pediatrics

— charles sometimes has very serious conversations with the camp strays ( mainly just voicing whatever he may be thinking of at the particular moment )

— radar sometimes likes to imagine he’s the protagonist in a superhero world and i mean why not . little dude is literally psychic

— hawkeye has a habit of ripping at his nails , klinger regularly checks them and manicures them for him

— the nurses and swamp rats regularly get involved in prank wars . the nurses are far more clever than some people realize

— hawkeye and trapper stood back to back once to see who was taller and had radar judge ( hawkeye tried to bribe radar to say it was him )

— one time margaret made frank cry so hard he threw up . good for her

— bj has weirdly good reflexes and can catch things while barely looking up , he has a habit of saying “ i knew i should’ve gotten into baseball “

— charles does that thing where someone asks him to do something and he says “ no “ while actively doing it

— the swamp rats are all actively ready to swing on anyone who upsets one of the nurses and that goes double for margaret . sometimes they actually do

— hawkeye has a pair of roller skates . do with this information what you will .

— father mulcahy is a self - taught painter

— henry tells the same stories more than once and hawkeye , trapper , and radar have a mutual agreement to pretend they’ve never heard them whenever this happens

— hawkeye and radar have made many a pinky promise , and never once did one get broken

— charles is surprisingly a god awful secret keeper , he tells most secrets to margaret

— henry is scared shitless of cats

[remyfire]

I think so far the best thing about Christina giving me post-war prompts to write about in the context of my Some Things Are Evergreen series when I have, in fact, not yet finished my watch through is all the accidental foreshadowing I do to myself—

[eyecan02]

Keeping My Expectations Low But Here Are a Few Scenes I Can See Happening in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.

1.) Beetlejuice offering his lap for Lydia to sit on during his train driving scene or her falling into his lap due to the bumpy train ride.

2.) Beetlejuice asking Lydia how someone hasn't wifed her up yet and that's when she explains that she's technically engaged/getting married in a couple of days. Cue jealous Beej scene.

3.) Beetlejuice lecherously suggesting that they have their honeymoon in Hawaii (as a sort of reference to Tim's original sequel script).

4.) During their dance, it dawns on Lydia that Beetlejuice's feelings for her are real and she says, "You don't even really know me. How can you be in love with me?" To which, Beetlejuice replies with, "Babe, how could anyone not instantly love you?"

5.) Lydia ends up choosing to save Beetlejuice from Delores, claiming "Til death do us part were our vows. His soul is not yours to take."

6.) Lydia gives Beetlejuice a kiss on the cheek (maybe after he saves her from the sandworm) and thanks him for helping her get her daughter back.

7.) So due to THAT ONE spoiler that most of us have heard, it leads me to think that Beetlejuice might have access to the living world by the end of the film, which leads me to a fun idea that Beetlejuice could star as a guest on Lydia's show.

[jadeluz-writes]

Really wanna keep rambling about Beetlebabes so I'm gonna do it and get it out of my system

I am so curious about how this ending is gonna turn out. Cause like... We either get Delores sabotaging their wedding, or BJ manages to fight and stop her, concluding the ceremony.

Knowing Tim Burton, he likes to make his couples as wacky and spooky and morally grey as possible. Lydia and Beetlejuice fall heavily into his category of pairing up characters. The fact we're getting a second wedding means BJ either wants to really get out of the Neitherworld, or he just really, really wants to marry Lydia. Or both.

We know Lydia is heavily in debt to BJ, as he most likely saves Astrid. He's done everything she's ever asked and his one wish is to get married. She knows she owes it to him. Maybe not when she was 17 though haha.. The real question is: How badly does she want to uphold her end of the deal this time?

Just from speculation, it seems like Lydia is Team Beetlejuice by the end of their adventure. I don't see her taking Delores' side at all. She'll realize how shitty her half-assed boyfriend is too and have further motivation to get away from that relationship altogether.

Lydia's life has been a whirlpool of misery - her husband is dead, she's dating a slimy worm of a manager, and pops pills like crazy. At some point, she'll realize her life sucks without Beetlejuice. As gross, smelly and perverted as he is, she knows he started caring about her at some point. Why would you intentionally write a character to be miserable, only to rip away the source of her potential happiness?

In my opinion, I don't think the wedding will be completed. But I do think that Lyds will end up developing some feelings for Beej. In the case of BJ though... yeah, the trailers pretty much explain how he feels about her.

I'm not getting my hopes up, but it is possible they could really finish the wedding. Chances are extremely low, but it's possible.

But anyway, that's just my 2 cents. Feel free to reblog and say how you think the wedding is gonna go. I'm really curious 👀

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Ashes to Ashes (Beetlejuice One-Shot)

Betelgeuse x GN!Reader / 18+ / requests are open

Summary: Beej does not love it when you talk to strangers at the bar. He likes it even less when you laugh at their jokes.

Fic type: smut

EVERYTHING: @winchxters @calliopesdiary @xxxsugarcyanidexxx

BEETLEJUICE: @im-eating-rn (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not so fuckin' funny now, huh?" BJ snorts, fingers wrapped around your throat just the way you like. He's got a cigarette dangling from his lips- something that he only does when he's feeling dominant, feeling possessive. When he wants you to think he doesn't care. It's just an act, of course, and if you were to ask him to stop, he would but he knows you like it when he plays mean.

He is mean, technically.

"F-fuck, Beej, I'm sorry," you gasped between short breaths. Fucking hell his fingers felt good on your throat. The added chill of his skin just set your body off with tingles.

"Were his jokes funny, babe? Funnier than mine? What, think he can make you cum harder than I can, huh? Please, you'd be fuckin lost without me an' my magic fuckin' fingers buried in that cunt."

True, but he'd be lost without you, too. That's what this was, a display of his affection in his own fucked up way. In your way, too.

"Look at'cha, fucked dumb already and I've barely even touched you. Bet if I held on tight enough you'd cum over my hand on your throat, wouldn't you?" He snorted again before snapping his fingers with his other hand- suddenly, you were sat on his moth-eaten lounge, his hand still caught tight around your windpipe. He had you on his lap, straddling one suit-striped thigh.

"Go on, then, fuck yourself dumb on my leg, babe. Y'know y'wanna." A slick smile slid across his features as he pulled your face closer so he could plant his tongue on your cheek and trail it up the side of your face. "I know y'wanna, too, dollface."

His fingers loosened to allow more air through your windpipe and you sagged against him with the rush of it. Not that you couldn't breathe before, but you just felt giddy with the rush of it.

Experimentally, you rolled your hips against his thigh, delighting in the jolt of pleasure that rolled up your spine. Betelgeuse took another puff of his cigarette, looking almost completely unbothered.

"What, that all you got? Jeez, what d'I even keep you around for, eh?"

His nonchalant attitude and mean words should not have turned you on as much as they did, and neither should the way he exhaled his cigarette smoke in your face. But it did. You felt a bloom of heat unfurl in your lower belly.

"Gettin' off t'bein bullied now, huh, babe? Interesting," he inhaled once more. Blowing it out the side of his mouth, he added, "Yeah, don't think I didn' notice that. Y'can't fuckin lie to me, babe."

Unconsciously, you chewed on the inside of your lip, in thought over this revelation. Beej sighed exasperatedly as he reached into your mouth and pulled your lip from the confines of your teeth.

"Don' do that- now, if you're done fuckin thinkin', hurry up and make yourself cum if you wanna keep daddy happy, baby."

You didn't need to be told twice. Picking up the pace, you rolled your hips against the smooth fabric of his trousers. BJ threw one arm around the back of the couch and held his cigarette in the other. He watched you, looking almost bored as you brought yourself to a whimpering mess for him.

He may have been trying to appear bored, but he could never hide that adoring little glint in his eye when he was truly enamoured by something you were doing. Rolling your hips and losing yourself to pleasure you were creating for yourself was something he could never get used to watching, but he sure did want to try.

"C'mon baby," he sighed, flicking the ashes so they fell over your flushed skin. "You can do it, yeah. Fuckin' cum for me."

You whimpered, hand reaching out to grab at his clothed bicep. Betelgeuse clicked his tongue but didn't remove your arm, watching as your movements grew jerky and your moans cut off in soft hitches of breath.

Another roll, two, and sparks shot from your nerve endings. Your thighs tightened around his own and Betelgeuse's hand slid down from the back of the lounge to curl around your hip, squeezing hard enough to hurt.

You groaned, hips slowly coming to a stop. You leaned forward, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck as you panted heavily with the comedown.

Beej reached around your neck to take one last puff before he put out the cigarette on the back of the couch like the grub he is. You peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses to his relatively cold skin, and he turned to pull you into a proper kiss.

"There now see," he grumbled, though the quirk of a smile told you he wasn't that upset any more. "No more fuckin talkin' to guys at the bar, babe, yeah?"

"Yes sir," you answered, tired and sated.

[beetled-juice]

Pink Cloud

@frog-scream your post shook the cobwebs from my brain, so please accept my humble offering of my take on your idea.

I wrote this in 20 minutes at 5 in the morning btw, please forgive me

NSFW content is implied in this, but you don't actually get any (unlike Beej)

It was only after you’d both fallen onto the bed more naked than clothed that you noticed the curtains were open.

At first you’d tried to pry him off of you so you could get up and close them, mortified at the idea of the neighbors seeing something they shouldn’t, but Beetlejuice can be very persuasive when he chooses to be. His hands had traced up and down your sides, and his mouth had quickly captured yours to stop any protesting on your part. The feeling of him pressed up against you coupled with the few extra hands incessantly tugging at your remaining clothing had distracted you enough to forget about the window, and instead you fell back into the gentle heat sparking between you.

It was only now as you both tried to catch your breath that you saw the open curtains again. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed, or to even care if someone had seen anything - not so long as you had Beetlejuice sprawled out on the bed next to you. His fingers were absentmindedly tracing patterns along your skin, and he was chattering away about something that probably wasn’t best suited for “pillow talk”. Looking past him to the window, you could see the last rays of the day’s light casting a pink and orange glow on the clouds as they floated past. The room was now lit with the warm glow of early evening, softening the edges of everything as it filled the space. A quick glance back at Beetlejuice quickly turned into unabashed staring as you realized that his hair was the same blush pink as the sky. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and bury your hands in it, wondering if it would feel the same as if you were touching the clouds.

“…and then, I possessed the frogs an-, wait, babes, are you listening? The kid's bio class loved this shit!” Shaken from your thoughts, you reached forward to pull him into a slow and gentle kiss. You slipped your fingers up into his hair, scratching at his scalp before threading the strands between your fingers. While they were definitely greasier and more gunk-filled than a cloud could ever be, they had a silky softness that so perfectly embodied their cotton candy color. Breaking the kiss with a quiet sigh, you pulled away to settle back on the bed. Beetlejuice still had his eyes closed, but after a moment he slowly blinked them open.

“What was that about?” he asked, his dark eyes wide as he melted into your side. Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer.

“Oh nothing, just… you were right not to close the curtains,” you said, pressing a kiss to his still-pink hair.

“Oh, is that why you were so worked up? The thought of people seeing us do it? Babes, I knew you had a freaky side just waiting to come out! Hey, next time we could have the window open too, give the neighbors a little audio with the visual if you get what I mean.” Rolling your eyes, you let him ramble on about the inappropriate and potentially illegal things he’d like to try, all the while watching as the pink faded from the sky. Though the sun was rapidly setting and taking its light with it, you were content to hold your own personal pink cloud in your arms for the rest of the night.