You’d been waiting for the weekend to finally arrive ever since your boss chewed you out on Tuesday afternoon, so when you finally arrived home on Friday, you threw yourself onto your couch with a heavy sigh, sinking into the cushions like you never wanted to leave them. You suspected Beej was in the attic doing…whatever it was he got up to while you were gone, but you knew he’d be joining you shortly. Almost as if he’d read your mind, he popped into the room, wearing…holy shit, just his dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms covered sparsely with green hair. A blush rose to your cheeks, but you chose to ignore it as you shot him a soft smile. 

“Hey, Beej, what’s going o-?”

“Roll over.”

“What?”

“On your stomach,” he said, as if it was obvious. When you still hesitated, he sighed and snapped his fingers, teleporting you both to your bedroom. Your bed was now home to a large nest of pillows and comforters, accompanied by soft piano music playing from your laptop and a sweet, floral scent hanging in the air.

“What’s all this?” you asked with a curious smile. 

“Well, I knew work really hung you out to dry this week, so I figured I’d surprise you!” he explained with a proud grin. He snapped his fingers, summoning a small bottle of massage oil into his hand. “I made the blanket nest myself. I was gonna give you your massage downstairs, but I figured this’d be more comfortable, hmm?”

And there it was, that lecherous fucking smirk that you wanted to kiss off of his handsome face, damn him. You swallowed roughly at the thought of Beej’s strong hands on you, rubbing the tension away, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he took you…OK, nope, that was the end of that! You forced the thought away as you took his hand, smiling sweetly despite the flirtatious look he was shooting your way.

“That’s really sweet of you, Beej. Thank you for thinking of me,” you said, squeezing his hand. He beamed, his hair nearly glowing with how neon green it turned. You chuckled, shuffling to your dresser to pull out a few things. “Just let me get changed into something more comfy, mmkay?” 

“Sure thing, babes, take all the time you need,” he said, crawling onto your bed and lounging the newly made blanket nest. You shook your head fondly and moved into the bathroom to change into something more appropriate for the…fuck, massage he was about to give you. 

When you emerged from the bathroom, Beetlejuice immediately sat up straighter at the sight of you- you were wearing soft grey shorts that barely covered the tops of your thighs and a pastel pink sports bra, one that barely did anything to hide your breasts from him. His eyes widened and he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to distract you from him adjusting himself in his pants. Jesus Christ, he felt so pathetic, getting all hot and bothered over some breather in a sports bra…but you’d never been just some breather. You were all soft and warm and kind, always there for him despite the fact that he was a demon, always encouraging him to be better, to love harder, to live fuller…God, he was so fucking gone for you. 

‘Course, you didn’t know that. You had your head so far up your goddamn ass you couldn’t see what was right in front of you. But judging by how you’d been reacting to him since you got home, he figured he might be able to fix that in the next hour. 

So, he rolled off of your blanket nest, trying to hide his arousal by beckoning you forward and instructing you to lie on your tummy, resting your head on your crossed arms. You relaxed into the soft comforters, feeling incredibly at ease as you heard the soft click of the bottle of oil in Beej’s hands.

“Best way for me to do this is to straddle you, princess. That alright?” he asked, looking you over inquisitively. You hummed your consent, suspecting that wonderfully smarmy smirk to have found its home on his face once more as he settled himself down just at the tops of your thighs. If he wasn’t careful, the boner he was sporting would poke you right in the ass, so he made sure to adjust himself so you couldn’t feel it…yet. “Alright, babes, you just relax and let me take care of you.”

If those words didn’t pull a little gasp out of you first, the feeling of Beej’s cool hands spreading massage oil all over you back would’ve made sure of it. God, they were so big, pleasantly cool to the touch and firm as he began kneading your tense muscles. You let your eyes slip shut, falling prey to the absolute magic he was working on the knots in your back with his thumbs. You were so blissed out that you didn’t notice the little moans slipping from your lips every now and then, especially when Beej massaged a particularly tight knot. But oh, did Beetlejuice fucking notice.

You had never looked so hot in your goddamn life. Your skin was so smooth and soft under his hands, and you were making the hottest little noises he’d ever heard a breather make, and it was all because of him.

“Feelin’ a little better, doll?” he asked, his voice embarrassingly strained. 

“Mmhmm,” you hummed happily, gasping sharply as he dug his fingers in a particularly fantastic spot. “Oh fuck that feels good, keep going, right there!”

Jesus fucking Christ he was going to die. He was going to keel over right then and there, and he was already dead! How the fuck could you be allowed to do this kinda thing to him? You were squirming under his hands, clutching the comforters between your white-knuckled fingers, and moaning like he was fucking you into oblivion, all the while his cock was trapped painfully in his pants and it was so goddamn frustrating. He was so close to snapping, just pulling your shorts aside and fucking you until you screamed, but he refused to do that without your consent. No, he needed you to know, he needed you to say yes, and he needed it now. 

“Beej…fuck, you’re amazing,” you moaned. You bit your lower lip and let out a soft, barely there whine, and that was fucking it. Beetlejuice chuckled darkly and leaned forward, his resolve snapping as he hovered over you completely, keeping his lips close to your ear. 

“Are you trying to turn me on, or are you just that oblivious?” he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“What? What are you talking abou-…oh,” you breathed, because now you could feel his cock pressing against your ass. Curious, you shifted against him experimentally, causing Beej to groan into your ear before chuckling darkly. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you want me too,” he crooned, sitting back up to drag his hands down the warm, reddened skin of your back. “Because unlike you, I don’t keep my head firmly up my ass.”

“Hey, that is so unfair!” you retorted, flipping yourself over to glare up at him. “You’re the one who’s constantly flirted with me and never followed through! Was I supposed to just know that that meant something, or did I have to find out when you popped a boner giving me a massage?” 

Of course, you suddenly realize the position you’ve put yourself in when you get a good look at said boner, his hard cock only about a foot away from you face where he was straddling your hips. He tried to hide his smirk when he noticed you staring.

“Did you ever think that’s because I was waiting for you to ask?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you. “That I didn’t want to be the big bad demon preying on some innocent breather? And not just any innocent breather, one I…you know, care about.” He rubbed his hand through his hair shyly. “You’re more than just someone to fuck to me, sweets, you gotta know that.” You hesitated before smiling softly, your heart fluttering incessantly in your chest because you’d been waiting for what seemed like forever for this to happen and frankly, you’re feeling desperate for him. 

“I…I think I know that now, Beej,” you said, running your fingers through his hair before giving an experimental tug and a short grind of your hips against his. He groaned, biting his lower lip as it faded into a deep growl. 

“Be careful with who you’re messing with, doll,” he warned. “You’re probably gonna want to be able to walk out of here by the time I’m done with you.”

“Please, like you could break me that easily,” you countered, pulling him by the hair to press the full length of his body to yours. “Why don’t you show me what you’re made of, hmm?” He barked out a laugh, shaking his head fondly at your eagerness. 

“That’s my girl,” he breathed, soothing the blush of your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh, your girl, huh?” you laughed, quirking an eyebrow at him. He chuckled darkly, quickly grabbing both of your wrists and pinning your arms above your head, leaning in until your lips were so close to touching.

“Sweetness,” he murmured, his breath puffing out and over your lips. “If you didn’t realize that you’re already mine, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Those words sent heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, pulling a whine from your lips as you finally closed the distance between you and kissed him roughly. He inhaled sharply and pressed his full weight down onto you, holding you firmly in place as he ground his cock into your hip as he kissed you back, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and tugging until you whimpered for him. He pulled away and began attacking your neck, sucking gorgeous marks into your sensitive skin while you whined and struggled against his grip. He held your wrists firmly, not letting you budge a single inch while he laved his tongue over the bruises that were just beginning to form, pulling whimper after whimper from your parted lips. 

“God, I’ve been waiting so damn long for this…” he moaned into your skin, shifting downward and snapping his fingers to remove the offending sports bra that was keeping him from more of your gorgeous body. Your nipples hardened at the exposure to the slightly chilled air, which only made Beetlejuice more excited to play with them. He dove in, sucking one into his mouth and circling it with the tip of his tongue, moaning when you buried your hands in his hair and tugged. He gave the same treatment to the other nipple before sucking bruise after bruise onto your breast, pain and pleasure harmonizing so gloriously that it left you breathless. “Mm, you taste so fucking good, sweets…but I bet you taste even better down here, hmm?”

His hands stroked down your stomach and to the waistband of your shorts, lingering there while his eyes silently asked for your permission. You lifted your hips to make it as easy as possible for him to get your shorts off, because you fucking needed them off now.

“Beej, come on, get ‘em off, please,” you whimpered, frustrated at how slowly he was peeling them and your panties off of you. He merely chuckled, taking his sweet time in sliding them down your legs and off completely.

“Patience, doll,” he cooed, making you grumble with frustration. “We’ve waited this long, what’s the harm in taking our time?”

“Easy for you to say, asshole,” you mumbled. “You probably got some in the last few months.”

“Guess again, angel,” he countered. You expected to see mirth in his eyes, but he simply gazed at you. He was completely serious. 

“You…you didn’t?”

“Not a chance,” he said, rubbing his hands up your thighs to land on your hips. “No one else was worth my time, babes. No one but you.”

Those words hit you like a rock. He waited. The horniest, most lecherous demon you knew waited for you. He could’ve had anyone until you finally got your shit together, but instead he waited months just to be with you. 

You rose up onto your knees and pulled Beetlejuice into a long, languid kiss, pouring every feeling you had into it as you laved your tongue over his lower lip, just hoping and praying that it would show him what he meant to you. He smiled into the kiss, wrapping you up in his arms before lowering you back onto the mattress, settling himself between your spread legs. He pulled away from the kiss to lower himself fully between your legs, drinking in the sight of you, fully exposed and glistening.

“Ohhh, baby,” he groaned, pressing a wet kiss to your inner thigh that trembled under his touch. “You are even more gorgeous than I imagined.”

“Beej, come on, please…” you mumbled, running your fingers through his hair and pleading with your eyes. He smirked up at you, content to watch you struggle not to shove his face into your pussy for a few moments longer.

“You ask me so nicely, babes,” he said, his smile growing toothy and almost sinister. “But I bet I can make you beg.” And with that, he buried his face in your pussy, greedily tasting you to your very core. You threw your head back with a gasp, gripping his hair tightly as he circled your clit with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. Your thighs shook as he gripped them and pressed the flat of his tongue against you, letting you grind against his face and chase the pleasure you craved. Having his face in your pussy was enough to make him painfully hard where he was stuck in his pants, so he snapped his fingers to rid himself of his suit and began to stroke his cock in earnest. He moaned against your clit, the vibrations sending stars to blur your vision as you bit your lip to hold back your moans. 

“I thought you tasted good before, sweetness, but down here you’re fucking mouthwatering,” he groaned, letting one finger come up and trace your entrance. “You want more, sweetheart, hmm? Better let me fuckin’ hear it.” 

“Yes,” you moaned, tugging at his hair to try and force him back between your legs. “I want you, Beej, please just fucking take me.” At this, you heard a deep laugh rumble in his chest.

“Believe me, doll, I plan on it,” he said, slowly plunging his middle finger inside you as he went back to licking intermittently at your clit. You immediately clenched around his finger, moaning as he began to curl it in just the right way, your fists absolutely white-knuckled in the blankets as he practically dragged the pleasure out of you. He quickly added a second finger, fucking them in and out and trying not to come untouched from the thought of that wet heat practically choking his cock. “Tell me what you want, Y/N. Say it and I’ll give it to you.”

“Beetlejuice, please!” you cried out. He tutted, opting to finger you harder, pulling near screams out of your throat, which was quickly growing sore. 

“Come on, baby, I know you can. Just tell me what you need. Beg for it like a good little girl, and if you do it extra pretty, I’ll let you cum.”

You growled in frustration, seething at the shit-eating grin he was shooting you without even once letting up on the unrelenting pace of his fingers. 

“I-ah, ah- want you to fuck me, Beetlejuicccccceshit, oh fuck, want your cock in me so bad, please God I wanna cum, I can’t, I can’t, I’m gonna cum, please!” 

“Mm, good girl. Cum,” he commanded, leaning down to flick your clit with the tip of his tongue until you screamed, clenching tightly around his fingers as you came. He fingered you through it, only pulling his fingers out of you once you’d fully come down, panting heavily with a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow in the light your lamp gave off. Beetlejuice grinned up at you from between your legs, lips glistening with your cum and his eyes practically heart-shaped.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he gushed, sliding up the bed until you were face to face. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, gazing at you so intently that you nearly wanted to shy away from the intensity of it all. “Knew you’d look so pretty when you cum, baby, but I bet you’ll be drop dead gorgeous when you cum around my cock,” he groaned, kissing you intensely. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips, feeling him grind his cock against your thigh as he probed your mouth with his tongue. He pulled away, panting harshly against your skin. “One more time, baby. What do you want?”

“Want you to fuck me, BJ,” you murmured, pressing one more kiss to his lips. “Waited so long for you, I just…I need you…” He smiled against your lips, kissing you sweetly before positioning himself at your entrance.

“Alright, baby, we’re gonna take this nice and slow, ok?” he asked. “Keep those eyes on me, want you to watch me while I fuck you, got it?” You nodded, inhaling sharply as he began to enter you. He wasn’t incredibly long, but God was he thick, his girth stretching you beautifully as he pushed into you. Beej groaned against your lips, watching you intently for any signs of pain as he bottomed out, his hips pressed firmly against yours. 

“Oh fuck yeah, that’s the stuff, sweetness,” he groaned, taking in the intoxicating feeling of your pussy clenching around him, adjusting so beautifully to his girth. “Shit, you’re taking me so well, baby. How you feelin’? Any pain?”

“Mm-mm,” you hummed, shaking your head. You rolled your hips experimentally, gasping at the feeling of him moving inside of you. “Beej, just…don’t hold back, alright? I told you, you can’t break me that easily. Just…make me yours.” That last bit made him growl almost involuntarily, grabbing at your hips impatiently and starting to thrust, picking up speed the louder you moan. He holds you so close, pressing your foreheads together so he can watch you as you fall apart for him. 

“Say it again, baby girl,” he murmured, kissing across her cheek to nibble at her ear. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Beej, fuck, I-I need more, harder,” you moan, wrapping your legs around his waist. He speeds up with a deep growl, re-angling himself in the most perfect way, the head of his cock dragging beautifully against your G spot that sends stars to cloud your vision once more. You’re not sure you remembered your name, but frankly, it felt unimportant compared to the bliss you sunk into with each and every thrust of his cock inside of you. 

“Again, baby, come on,” he said, egging you on. 

“I’m yours!”

“Again!” 

“Yours! Fuck, shit, you feel so fucking good, God I love you!”

That was it. Whatever little restraint he had splintered as he pulled you tightly against him, rutting into you with everything he had. He’d never let you go again, never let you leave his arms; he’d die holding you, die fucking you, die loving you, if he could. He moaned louder, thrusted harder, kissed fiercer, and all of it was setting you ablaze from the inside out. You curled yourself into his arms as firmly as you could, wanting him around you, in you, wanting him and only him because you were his, and in that moment, he was all you needed. Your pleasure seemed to seep out of every pore in your skin, your voice hoarse from crying out as he littered you with kisses and bite marks, undeniable claims on every inch of skin he could find. Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Love you too, babes, God, I love you so goddamn much I can’t breathe, and this tight little pussy, mmph, fucking milking me, huh? You’re gonna make me cum, sweets. Is that what you want, you want me to fill you up? Make you mine? Cum with me, baby, wanna watch you cum around my fucking cock-”

You cut him off with a choked off wail, clenching around him as tightly as you could as wave after wave of pleasure rushed over you, threatening to drown you, to bury you beneath a deep abyss, but you simply wouldn’t mind. You felt him spill into you, groaning into your collarbone as his whole body trembled around you. You were floating, you were sinking, you were living, you were dying, and it was everything that you needed and more, infinitely more. You let your eyes slide shut as you came down, feeling Beetlejuice maneuvering you both into a more comfortable position. When you finally opened your eyes again, you were pressed against his chest, your chin resting comfortably right at the top of his pec. 

“Welcome back, beautiful,” he said with a grin, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Was afraid I’d knocked you clean out. How are you feelin’?”

“Mm, fantastic,” you said hoarsely, stretching your arms a bit before settling firmly into his side. “So, was that everything you’d been waiting for?” 

With a warm chuckle, he pulled you close, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead as you let your eyes slide shut again, your exhaustion taking you over.

“Everything, love,” he murmured, “and more.” 

(THIS BECAME 9 PAGES LONG. IT’S ALMOST FINALS WEEK. I’M DUMB BUT I LOVE THIS SO WHATEVER)

@scribblepigeon @realmonsterboyhours @yankyo @sapphic-florals @monsterlovinghours @the-ineffable-prince-of-hells @beetlebop

Before he could even attempt to unpack the terrifying, poisonous concoction that was his emotions, his ears perked up at the sound of a key in the lock. The simmer in his stomach fell to a weak bubble as the door flung open to reveal you, safe and sound and as gorgeous as ever, a smile on your face and completely impractical shoes in hand. No blood, no rope, no bruises- you were ok. You were home. 

And then his nose twitched and burned as the smell of breather punched him in the face like a heavyweight boxer. And not his breather- male breather. The scent was pouring off of you like a heavy smoke billowing from every pore on your body, the acrid stench bringing the bubble of emotions back to the edge of a boil in seconds. 

“Hey, Beej,” you greeted casually, tossing your heels onto the floor before falling into his arms. He held you close, of course, trying his best not to gag. “I’m home.”

“I can see that, snack,” he said slowly, fighting valiantly to keep his disgust hidden. “You’re two hours late.”

“I know, I know, I would’ve called but my phone was dead. I’m sorry, Beej, but we were just having so much fun,” you groaned happily, eyes sliding shut at the thought of your late-night activities. He bit back a snarl as he let his fingers run through your hair. 

“I was worried, kitten,” he replied, the calm evenness of his words underpinned with a dark, foreboding tone. “Not like I knew what you were up to. It’s easy to get taken advantage of when you’re drunk.”

“Please, I had one beer the whole night,” you countered, wrapping your arms around his neck. It was true, he figured, he could only barely smell the alcohol on your breath underneath the overwhelming, enraging stench of men. God, he’d had enough. 

“Oh yeah? And what else did you have tonight, feeder?” he finally asked. You went stiff in his arms. Your eyes were downcast, afraid of the quiet anger you knew you’d find in his. “Or is it better if I ask who?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, wriggling out of his arms and escaping into the kitchen- he was hot on your tail, though, toes nearly clipping the back of your heel as he pursued you. “I was just out with my frie-”

“Don’t lie to me!” Beetlejuice interjected suddenly, pounding his fist on the counter and sending a few pieces of silverware clattering to the floor. You jolted with a yelp and pressed your back against the wall, your posture reading only fear and God, he didn’t want to scare you, he never wanted to scare you, but the pot had boiled over and now there was no stopping him. “I can smell them on you. How many men touched you tonight, hmm? How many fucking disgusting breathers got their fingerprints all over you? Tell me, I’ll have their hands sliced off and mounted on my goddamn wall!” he growled, eyes and hair flaring a brilliant, blistering red. 

“None, Beej, baby, listen to me,” you said desperately, refusing to take a step closer to him with his claws dug so dangerously into the counter. “It’s a club, you’re constantly pressed up against other people, of course I’d come home smelling like someone else! Are you seriously telling me you don’t believe me?”

“Why should I? Why should I when you’re two hours late and smelling like a goddamn brothel-“

“God, do you fucking hear yourself?” you cried, finally meeting his gaze with ire of your own bubbling out of you. “I wouldn’t have gone out at all if I knew you were gonna be a jealous brat when I came home!” 

“I’m not jealous! It’s just...you’re mine!” he retorted, seemingly desperate for the words to describe how he felt and frustrated when he couldn’t find them. 

“Maybe here I am,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to calm your growing frustration. “But tonight...tonight I got to be mine, Beetlejuice. My whole life can’t just be defined by belonging to you...I have to do what I want too. And tonight I wanted to go out, so you’re just going to have to live with it.”

You expected rage. If anything you were more prepared for it, the yelling, the fighting, the inevitable bout of make-up sex that would leave Beetlejuice satisfied in more ways than one...that, you could handle. What nearly knocked you off your center of gravity, however, was how his shoulders slowly but surely slumped, his entire posture bowing under a feeling of defeat as a deep purple crawled its way through his hair. It was silent- you didn’t break it even to take a breath. 

“I...I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said, his voice thickened with unspoken sorrow. “I should’ve known better. I...I’m just gonna go.” 

No. God, no, this isn’t what you wanted. The shade of purple tainting his hair nearly made you sick, because you knew exactly which emotions that color represented. You wanted to reach out, to pet his hair and hold him close and tell him it would be ok, but it looked as though he might shatter underneath your fingers. His usual light, his mirth, and his infectious rambunctiousness were gone, replaced with soul-crushing sorrow- he’d argue that he didn’t have a soul, but in your eyes, that was impossible. His soul shone so brightly in your life that you suspect the sun could disappear tomorrow and yet you’d feel no less warm, no less alive. Him leaving would be a solar eclipse that never ended, a blanket of darkness that covered you absolutely, drowning you in nothing but nothingness. No, that simply could not happen. 

“Bug, don’t go,” you pleaded, bringing out the name you only used on rare occasions. It seemed to get his attentioned, his tail flicking more insistently across the tiled floor. “I...I don’t want you to leave. Please.”

“Why?” he asked. God, his voice was utterly broken, despondent beyond belief and it killed you. “You have a life, Y/N. I can’t have one. It’s like you said, you belong to yourself- it’d be wrong to keep you shackled to being a feeder when there’s so much more you can be. Let me go, snack. Let me go so you can live.” 

You didn’t realize you were crying until the tears dropped from your chin to the floor below. By now, Beej’s hair was nearly black, the purple sheen only visible when he turned his head towards the light. Each word out of his mouth felt like a death sentence, each step towards the door like the lowering of the guillotine. Tonight was the night he knew had been coming for months- the night he’d be forced to realize that you were too good for him, that demons truly don’t deserve love, and his eternity was always meant to be spent alone. This would play out like he always knew it would, and there was nothing to be done about it. 

“No.”

...Well. That was certainly a wrench in the gears. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying, feeder,” he sighed, moving back into the living room to prepare for his departure. “A month from now you’ll thank me.”

“I said no, Lawrence.” He gulped- you only used his first name when you meant business. “If you leave...I...goddammitdoIhavetodoeverythingmyself-” 

Before he could even ask what you meant, you were in front of him, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes to crash your lips into his. You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to show him what you’d been dying for him to realize for months, but you knew that you’d have to say it. You were afraid of putting yourself out on a limb, but you knew that even if you fell, somehow, he’d catch you. He always did. 

“God, Beetlejuice, I fucking love you,” you murmured against his lips, pressing your body as close to his as you could. He wrapped his arms around you, keeping you steady- a good sign. “I’ve loved you for so long and if you left nothing would be right. I belong to myself, but I belong to you too, and I never want you to go away because if you did I think a little part of me would die.”

You were rambling, you knew you were rambling, but you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out- you’d kept yourself silent for far too long and now all of it was spilling out of you with nowhere to go but directly to Beetlejuice’s heart. He cradled you close, pressing your face to his chest while you continued to mumble and murmur your love for him into his skin. You were trembling, and he steadied you. You were terrified, and he comforted you. You were lost, and he guided you. And you loved him, and he-

“I love you too,” he whispered into your hair, his words fluttering like a feather through your body until they settled deep into your soul, finding their permanent home there. “God, do I love you, snack. I love you more than life and death themselves, but I’m a demon- and demons don’t deserve love.” 

“Says who?”

“Says...says…”

“...If you’re about to say your mother, I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

He laughed and your heart skipped a beat; you lifted your head from its place against his chest and saw a soft pink had crawled its way through Beej’s hair, mingling with the purple that still lingered at the tips. 

“I guess you have a point,” he admitted with a soft sigh. “She drilled that shit in my head from day one. Didn’t need me wondering why mommy dearest would choose booze over me, right?” The sadness mellowed his rough voice, but you simply buried your face in his chest again, breathing in his comforting scent. 

“Some demons don’t deserve love, like certain bitchy mothers whose names shall not be spoken,” you breathed, drawing another little chuckle from his lips. “But some do. You do. All you have to do is let me.” 

...Could he? The one truth he ever knew was that love was out of the question. His existence was about feeding- satiating his desire for warm flesh against his until he got hungry again. Feeding didn’t require love, his existence didn’t require love, so could he let you love him when it seemed so alien to him? But when he looked down at you...your eyes pleaded for him, glistening softly with unshed tears and framed by long, dark eyelashes. Your lips parted with each breath, reddened and swollen from his kisses. Your hair framed your face so gorgeously, tousled locks cascading down your shoulder and just brushing his hand where it laid splayed across your back. You looked at him with admiration, like if you so much as blinked he may vanish so you wished to take him in while you could. It frightened him. It excited him. He had no choice, he realized, but to give in to the inevitability of you. There was nowhere else for him to go- this was where he belonged. 

But still, it frustrates you. Here you are, a hot piece of ass all hot and bothered with not even Beetlejuice there to relieve your tension. The only thing you had was your right hand...and, well, no one was around to see you, right? Smirking, you slip your panties off and toss them aside, spreading your legs and letting your fingers slowly begin to circle your clit. You whimper softly and increase the pressure, letting your body relax into the couch cushions. You hear the band cut out, signalling their short break between their first and second set, but you simply don’t care. You need to cum, and if Beetlejuice got an eye full of what his music did to you, no harm done, you suppose.

You don’t even have the decency to stop when he strides into the room. He pauses in the doorway, out of breath with his cock already beginning to harden at the sight of you. His eyes narrow as he takes you in, almost as if he’s assessing you. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing, shit for brains?” And fuck his voice is so rough and you can’t even answer, you just throw your head back and moan. His voice is what got you like this in the first place, so listening to it all blown out and raspy certainly isn’t helping things. You meet Beej’s eyes again and despite the hardness in his pants, he looks more annoyed than aroused. “Pet, if your hands aren’t by your sides in the next ten seconds, you’re gonna wish you were never born,” he drawls out lazily, his casual tone paired with the threatening words sending chills up your spine. You smirk a little, pressing two fingers inside of you with a hiss. 

“But babe, you sounded so good out there, I couldn’t help myself. I just wanna cum.”

And then, oh, he’s grinning so wickedly that you suddenly second guess yourself.

“Well, isn’t that sweet. My princess gets all wet because of my music? Hmm...I think I can work with that.”

In less than a heartbeat he snaps his fingers, a small object appearing in his hand. He approaches you slowly, sneering as he watches the fear spread over your features as invisible hands grip your wrists and ankles, pinning your hands by your side and keeping your legs spread. He kneels down, humming appreciatively at how wet he managed to get you before showing you...a small, black and white striped vibrator. Your eyes widen, searching his gaze for any sign of mirth- there’s none. He’s entirely serious. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for your silent approval, which you give by relaxing your body, settling further into the couch. His smile only widens as he slides the vibrator inside you, pressing one short kiss on the inside of your thigh before collecting himself and heading towards the door. He looks back at you one last time, his smug grin sending a red flush to your cheeks. 

“You wanna cum, pet?” he asks, hand gripping the doorknob. “Fine.” 

And the door slams shut.

The weird thing is, though, the vibrator doesn’t seem to be on. You’re practically trembling with anticipation waiting for it, but it doesn’t come. Not, of course, until you hear the cheers of the crowd signaling the return of the band to the stage. You hear Beetlejuice adjusting one of the strings on his guitar through the monitor, and you jolt. You could’ve sworn the vibrator had buzzed a little just now. 

...Oh. Oh no. 

With no warning, their next set begins with a long, drawn out chord from Beej’s guitar that has you biting your lip to keep from screaming. The vibrator has come to life inside you, it’s vibrations perfectly in sync with the volume and frequency of his music. He’s controlling your pleasure from 100 feet away and he’s doing it in front of a crowd of thousands. The very thought plus his intense playing drags the first of many orgasms from you, and by the way your muscles are tensing, you’re very clearly barreling towards your second. 

No harm done. Yeah, that was total bullshit. 

His second set lasts a full hour. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve cum, but considering that the floor of the dressing room is absolutely soaked, you’re guessing at least 10. The worst (or best) part of it all is you can hear Beej giving the performance of his life. He’s playing his guitar so intensely, every strum sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your entire body, and you know it’s all for you. Your voice is absolutely shot from screaming, thankfully drowned out by the music, and your tears have been free flowing for at least 20 minutes, soaking both yourself and the couch. You’re just about ready to summon him off the stage to finally fuck you when, thank God, the concert is over. The vibrator shuts off and you release all of the pent up tension in your body, crying openly as you finally receive some relief from the unrelenting pleasure.

It’s then that Beetlejuice chooses to make his grand reentrance, strolling casually into the dressing room to find his precious little breather soaked with tears and her own cum, shaking like a leaf in her bonds with mascara running in trails down her face. Oh, how delicious. 

“I have to say, pet, I am impressed. I’ve trashed some dressing rooms in my time but this, well, this really takes the cake.” 

God, that smug fucking smirk on his face makes you want to either slap him or cum again. He approaches you and reaches out to run his fingers through your hair, wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You smile at his touch, leaning into it as much as you can with the invisible hands still restraining you. He kneels in front of you with a fond smile, resting his hands on your inner thighs. “Let’s get you home, hmm?” 

And just as he’s about to pull the vibrator out again, you hear it. 

Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. 

The crowd’s chanting sends a shit-eating grin to Beej’s face, and he stands up, only growing more amused at the growing look of fearful realization on your face. Just before they say his name for the third time, he sends you a wink. 

“Heh, sorry babes. Encore.”

Beetlejuice.

He disappeared for days at a time, usually, and often returned either drunk or roughed up. You never asked what he got up to, and frankly, you didn’t need to know. You were his feeder, and you were comfortable with that.

...Oh who the fuck were you kidding. You adored him, and your heart broke every single time he left. But he made you feel wanted, and sexy, and loved, even if he didn’t actually love you. You could deal with it. You could handle this! 

You couldn’t handle this. 

But again, being with Beetlejuice taught you not to hold onto expectations. You didn’t expect him to, but...maybe he’d exceed them. Someday. 

When he did finally reappear, it’d been 6 days since you’d seen him. He was sober, thankfully, and only a little dirtier since you last saw him, so you figured he hadn’t been up to anything as wild as you expected he usually was. You glanced over your shoulder and smiled at him from your place at the sink, your sudsy hands dutifully scrubbing at a plate. He smirked, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his fingers spreading out over your tummy. 

“Mm, you smell good, baby,” he purred, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Been too long since I’ve had you.”

“And whose fault is that, hmm?” you asked slyly, continuing to wash your dirty dishes. “Where’ve you been?” 

“Takin’ care of some Netherworld business, babes, you would not believe how rowdy people can get down there. But now that I’m here...how’s about you let Daddy take care of you?” He trailed kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck, his hands trailing down to your thighs. 

“How’s about you let me take care of these dishes?” you retorted. Of course, you tilted your head to the side to allow him more room for his ministrations. “Some of us have breather responsibilities, you know? Jobs, chores, dishe-mmph.” God, his mouth was fucking sinful. 

“And you wanna be thinkin’ about all that breather shit right now?” he whispered, his breath rushing hotly over your skin. “When you could be thinkin’ about me?” You sighed happily, leaning back fully into his embrace as you wiped the remaining suds onto your jeans. 

“Alright, you hungry bastard, upstairs,” you commanded with a chuckle. With a celebratory whoop, he swung you up into his impatient arms and rushed up the stairs, pressing tiny kisses to your laughing lips. He tossed you unceremoniously onto your bed and crawled on top of you, letting his hands drag over your hips. 

“Mm, you look good enough to eat, snack,” he groaned, nipping at your lower lip. “And I am fucking starving.”

“Better hop to it then, hotshot,” you chuckled breathlessly, already rushing to remove your clothing. “Unless you don’t have it in you?”

And oh, that got the loveliest growl to rumble in his chest, his claws poking dangerously into your skin as he clutched your hips to drag you against him. 

“Don’t fuck with me, feeder,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous and wonderful. “You know what happens when you get bratty.”

“Oh, do I?” you teased. Of course you did, and you needed it right now. “Must’ve forgotten. Why don’t you remind me? Unless you have more ‘Netherworld business’ to deal with...” Beej laughed darkly before snapping his fingers, getting rid of the rest of your clothing. 

“Who gives a fuck about the Netherworld when I have my sweet, warm little feeder who needs a good fuck to remember who she belongs to?” he said with a smirk, spreading your legs open to deeply inhale the absolutely intoxicating scent of your arousal. “Ngh, baby, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d want to die between your fuckin’ legs.”

“Very sexy, babe, Jesus Chriiiiiiiiifuck-” because he buried his face into your pussy and began playing you like a goddamn fiddle, and far be it from you to keep it to yourself. His tongue flicked so perfectly against your clit before he dragged the flat of it up the length of you and you clutched at his hair and groaned because fuck, you missed this. You missed him.

He groaned as he ate you out, digging his sharp fingertips into your thighs as he tasted you greedily. You tasted so sweet, and with every swipe of his tongue he felt crazier and crazier for leaving you alone for so long. 

“Fuck, Beej, so good,” you moaned, grinding your hips into his mouth. 

“Good? Pfft, this is small potatoes, snack cake,” he said, his lips shining with your wetness. “Want Daddy to give you more, hmm?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Say it.”

“Beej...”

“Say it.”

“Daddy, please, I need more!” you groaned, frustrated by the fact that his mouth was so goddamn close but still not touching you. “Wanna cum so badly...wanna feed you...”

“That’s what Daddy likes to hear, sweet thing,” he groaned before diving back in in earnest. He plunged two fingers into you, curling them against the exact right spot while the tip of his tongue circled your clit and you were cumming before you could even process it and-

You heard it before you felt it. As you came, you squirted on the sheets and your thighs and Beetlejuice’s face and you couldn’t stop your legs from shaking. For a moment, he paused, the shock evident on his face as your cum literally dripped from his lips...lips that quickly spread into a gigantic grin.

“Oooooh fuck yes,” he groaned loudly, quickly laving his tongue over your clit as he began to finger you in earnest, pulling a scream from deep in your chest. You were squirting again, and again, and again, and each time Beej just cooed against you, encouraging you to give him just one more. You trembled violently beneath him, each orgasm falling just over the edge of too much, but you fucking loved it. You loved how eager he was to taste you, to practically drink you dry each time you came. You’d never been fucked so well in your life and you couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering incoherently. 

“Beej, fuck, it’s so much...” you mumbled, arching your back as he drove his fingers mercilessly into your G spot. 

“Come on, feeder, one more for me, I know you can, God I love you so fucking much-”

Fuck. Fuck. 

You threw your head back and shrieked as he pulled one last orgasm from your aching body, pleasure mingling with pain as you squirted into his mouth, making him groan as he ground out his own orgasm against the mattress. When he finally pulled his fingers out of you, your sheets were absolutely soaked, as was Beej’s blissed out face and his overworked fingers. His eyes were wide and almost panicked, blinking rapidly as if realizing the exact words that just came out of his mouth. Your chest heaved with every deep breath you took, attempting to center yourself after that onslaught of pleasure and-

“Did you just...?”

“No!” he cried defensively, refusing to meet your gaze as a pink hue crawled its way through his hair. You beamed, feeling your heart swell as his hair betrayed him. You’d never seen it turn pink before. 

“Yes, yes you did! You said you loved me!” you cried out, grabbing at his shoulders to pull him up so you were face to face. 

“OK, so what if I did?” he stammered, hurt finding its way into his voice. “What, you gonna kick me out now? Send me packing because the big bad demon fell in love with yo-”

“I love you too.”

“Because I’ll go, it’s fine, it doesn’t matter how I feel...wait, what?”

“I love you too, you fucking idiot, come here,” you said, pulling him into a firm kiss. You felt the tension in his body melt away as he pressed himself against you, your fingers tangling in his hair. 

“Babes...you really mean it?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“Of course I mean it!” you laughed, rubbing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. “I was afraid you didn’t mean it!”

“Didn’t mean it? Come on, Y/N, have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous, you’re funny, you’re so goddamn sweet, not to mention that you don’t mind that I’m a demon...how could I not fall for you, sweets?” 

You shook your head in disbelief and dragged him in for another kiss, holding close as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. Everything you wanted was suddenly right in front of you and it overwhelmed you nearly to the point of tears. 

“I love you so much,” you whispered against his lips. He sighed happily, pulling you as close as he could, content to just feel your warmth against you. 

“I love you too, babes...always.”

“Gentlemen,” he began, immediately drawing your attention. His eyes were trained on his men, but his hand was placed securely on your thigh- perfect. “I’d like to welcome my dear friend and associate Ale-”

His smooth words were suddenly choked off, his fingers digging into your thigh as his entire body seemed to tense up. Every eye in the room immediately rushed to take him in, confused looks worn on each face. Gee, you thought, whatever could be wrong with him?

If you so much as whimper, you’re not cumming for a week.

“Somethin’ the matter, boss?” one of the clones piped up from the corner. As quickly as it came, the tension dissipated, his body relaxing back into his chair. His fingers, however, never released the firm grip on your thigh- a warning. You shot him a sweet smile, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently- your reply was the small remote hidden in the palm of your hand, pressing into his skin. You just barely contained your glee at his nervous gulp.

“Are you alright, sir? If there’s anything I can do for you, please tell me,” you murmured, your honeyed voice so saturated with sweetness it was practically dripping to the floor. No one else would ever sense the hidden sourness in your words…no one but Beetlejuice.

“No, I’m just fine,” he replied in a strained voice, finally releasing his iron-clad grip on your thigh. “Thank you, pet.” A deep chuckle pulled your attention across the table, where his associate grinned smugly, his arms folded in front of him.

“What an interesting little breather you’ve found for yourself, Beetlejuice,” he remarked, his eyes sliding over your small, unassuming frame. “And so well-behaved! My my, you have the most incredible luck.”

“What can I say, Alexandre? She knows her place, don’t you, sweetness?” he asked, reaching out to run his fingers gently through your hair. You leaned happily into his touch, eyes slipped shut and lips upturned the softest grin.

“Of course, sir,” you replied politely. Gentle, poised, and obedient: that was the air you gave off each time you sat in that chair by Beetlejuice’s side. But today, the minute the others’ eyes flitted to another part of the room, yours darted to meet his. You reveled in the way they widened as your grin first grew mischievous, then smug, then finally downright wicked. He barely had time to take a breath before you pressed the button again; the plug you’d pressed inside him that morning buzzed to life once more, pressing torturously against the sensitive spots that sent stars dancing across his eyes.

Yes, you thought, I do know my place.

He gripped the arm of his chair tighter but maintained his composure as he began his welcome again, his voice a bit shaky but otherwise as melodious as ever. Good boy. 

The meeting lasted all of 30 minutes, Alexandre all too willing to comply with Beetlejuice’s offer of partnership if it meant getting to see his précieux trésor in the future. You paid careful attention to every word that came out of their mouth, but not because you were interested in whatever turf war they were setting themselves up for. Inside, you were only interested in when Beetlejuice opened his mouth- you turned the plug on the minute a word left his lips and turned it off each time Alexandre replied. For the full 30 minutes, you listened so incredibly closely, ears open for any hint of a whine, a whimper, or even a moan from your don. Each time you pressed that evil little button, you drank in the sight of him twitching in his seat, wanting so badly to grind his hips down onto the plug or up into the air seeking friction but refusing to let his men or, God forbid, Alexandre in on his little secret. He took everything you gave him without ever losing the regal air that surrounded him; your pride for him grew with each passing minute.

Sadly, it had to finish all too soon. The two dons stood, their men all filing out ahead of them as they approached each other for a handshake to seal their newfound partnership. You remained in your seat, your body practically vibrating in anticipation of your grand finale.

Just as Beetlejuice took Alexandre’s hand, you turned the vibrator up to its highest setting.

This time, your grin was entirely uncontained as you watched Beetlejuice fight to keep his knees from buckling as he came in his pants, his free hand clenched in a fist at his side while the other hand tightened its already firm grip. He managed to remain standing, but you could see the tremble in his muscles even from your spot at the table, so you knew for sure that Alexandre noticed. You could see the nervousness in Beej’s eyes as he came down from that high, but whatever Alexandre thought was going on, it was clearly incorrect, as he released his hand from the handshake to give him a friendly clap on the back.

“I know, it is hard to believe that we have come so far. Do try to contain yourself, though, mon amie, or your pet may get the wrong idea.” And with a wink and another firm handshake, Alexandre was out the door, leaving only you and your don behind.

His knees hit the floor before you could make it to him, but you quickly pulled his limp body into your arms, petting his hair as he gasped into your chest.

“Shh, darling, I know,” you cooed, stroking his back lovingly. God, he was so gorgeous after he came. “You were so good for me, so very, very good.”

“Go…fuck yourself,” he panted, struggling to catch his breath as he glared up at you. “That was 30 ever-lovin’ minutes of torture and you fuckin’ know it.”

“Oh, is that how it’s going to be, then?” you asked, the sharpness in your voice making his eyes widen once more. Fuck. “Alright. You can keep that plug in for the rest of the night then, brat. We’ll see if that attitude of yours improves by bedtime.”

And with that, you pressed the button once more and sauntered out of the room, smirking victoriously as you heard nothing but silence.

If you so much as a whimper, you’re not cumming for a week.