#beej hc

Hi when did you sneak into my house and find out all my kinks, because you could’ve just knocked, I would’ve baked you some cookies or something

But still I’m gonna write this fic because how can I resist? Also, I’m so glad you like the way I write him, thank you so much!

Warning: slight daddy!kink because come on, he’s got one, extensive hickeys, dirty talk, etc etc 

When you woke up that morning, the first thing you felt was sore. Having an incubus for a partner meant this was a normal occurrence, of course, but this morning felt suspiciously different. The soreness, normally localized at your very center, was instead spread throughout your body, almost to your fingertips. Just pulling yourself out of bed made you wince, though not loud enough to wake the demon slumbering soundly beside you. Really, the only reason you were even awake was because somebody snored like they were attempting to wake the dead, and somehow only managed to wake the living. Grumbling, you made your way to the bathroom, feeling your body protest with each step. It was only when you stood in front of the bathroom mirror that you finally realized where your pain was coming from. 

Your normally unblemished skin was haphazardly littered with dark purple bruises, splotchy and misshapen. You gasped softly, unable to stop staring at the marks so clearly left their by your Beetlejuice. Nearly in a trance, you removed your tank top to expose even more bruised skin, the revealed bruises suspiciously fingerprint shaped on and around your hips. You dragged your fingers between your breasts and down to your stomach, your breathing quickening as your pressed your fingertips lightly over a particularly dark hickey. You dropped your shorts as well, not at all surprised to see full handprint-shaped bruises marring your skin, along with several bite marks. You looked like you’d gotten in a fist fight, except the fist fight had ended in a very rough bout of sex…and you weren’t complaining in the slightest. Especially when you looked up and finally noticed your throat.

There, wrapping so beautifully around the base of your neck, was the perfect imprint of Beej’s hand, splotchy and bruised and beautiful. 

If he hadn’t beaten you to it, you would’ve rushed into the bedroom to wake him up and see how many more marks he could give you. But as it stood, Beetlejuice had grown sentimental, and found it hard to sleep without you in his arms, so you slipping away to the bathroom was bound to wake him up eventually. He padded quietly into the bathroom, tail flicking slowly behind him as he rubbed the grogginess out of his eyes. When he finally saw you, he paused, widened eyes dragging up and down your body. Mm, this was gonna be good.

But in less than a second, Beetlejuice’s hair flashed a brilliant crimson, matching the burning of his eyes and the growing scowl on his lips. 

“Who the FUCK did this to you?!” he exclaimed, descending on you to check every inch of your body, his rage only multiplying with each bruise he saw. “Did you go out alone last night after I fell asleep or some shit? Because these weren’t fuckin’ here before that, and I swear to God whoever laid a hand on you is gonna pay, they’re gonna wish they were never fucking born-” 

His enraged ranting was quickly cut off by you, doubled over in hysterical laughter. Oh my God, you could not fucking believe this.

“How the fuck is this funny, Miss Shit-for-Brains?” he exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair that had gone purple at the roots. “Someone fucking assaulted you, why the fuck are you laughing?” 

“Because, Beej-ohmyGodmystomachfuckinghurts- you did!” you retorted, doubling over once more in belly-busting laughter. When you finally managed to collect yourself, Beetlejuice’s confused face only sent you into another uncontrollable peal of giggles. God, incubi could be so incredibly dense, couldn’t they?

“Me? But you know me, morsel, I’d never lay a finger on you! Unless you asked, of cour-…oh.” His voice trailed off, his eyes reexamining your body in light of his newfound insight. “Oh.”

“Who’s the shit-for-brains now, asshole?” you teased with a light giggle, covering your breasts with one arm when you realized how exposed you were. Of course, Beetlejuice was having none of that.

“Come here, snack cake, no need to be shy,” he drawled, magenta slowly crawling its way from root to tip in his hair. “Let Daddy get a good look at what he’s done to you.”

The mood in the room instantly changed, the air between you two dripping with desire. You averted your eyes as he dragged his clawed fingers up from your hips to your shoulders, pulling a whimper from your lips when he prodded at one particularly sensitive mark. His mouth stretched into a shit-eating grin, his attitude oozing self-satisfaction. 

“Do they hurt?” he asked, looking at you with both curiosity and lust. 

“Only a little,” you admitted softly, leaning into his touch. “And in the best way.”

He chuckled darkly as he pulled you into him, sealing his lips over yours in a deep kiss. He laved your lower lip with his tongue, making you groan against him. 

“That’s my girl, all roughed up and still so desperate. I can smell it, you know that? There’s lust pouring off you, smells so sweet. Whatdya say I take you back to our bed, hmm?”

You were about ten steps ahead of him, bolting from his arms and nearly leaping back onto the mattress, clad only in lacy black panties and yet simultaneously lacking shame. You didn’t need it, not when you had an insatiable demon at your beck and call. Speaking of, he strolled into the room behind you, staring down at you in amusement. 

“I was mostly messing with you about the whole ‘desperate’ thing, babes, but you’re provin’ me wrong,” he teased, his teeth glinting dangerously behind his lips as he grinned. “Feel like bein’ a little slut for me this morning, hmm? Well, Daddy can handle that. Question is, can you handle what I’ve got in store for you?”

“Yes,” you groaned, reaching up to grab his hand and pull him to the bed to hover above you. “Come on, Daddy, aren’t you hungry?”

“Ohhhh, sweetness,” he snarled, reaching down to rip your panties off you and toss them in the corner. “I’m always hungry.” 

You chuckled as your legs were spread roughly. He dove between them, dragging his tongue slowly between your folds. You whined, taking a firm hold of his hair with both hands, your fingers curling and uncurling as hot waves of pleasure rushed through you. Beej sucked on your clit while digging his fingers into the marks he’d left on your thighs barely half a day ago, the pain and pleasure intermingling beautifully inside you. He really knew exactly what you needed at any time, and he was more than excited to give it to you. 

“Fuck, Daddy, feels so good,” you moaned. “Come on, harder.”

You felt him smirk against you as he gripped your thighs harder, aggravating your bruises deliciously. 

“You’re doing so good for me, morsel. You want more? Come on, tell me what you want.”

“Gimme more, Beej,” you groaned, pulling him up by his hair to press his lips to your belly. “Wanna know I’m yours, please.”

As much as Beej always knew what you wanted, you were just as good at appealing to his desires, particularly his insatiable possessiveness. You wanted to know who you belonged to? Well, who was he to deny you? With a rough growl, he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh above your belly button, sucking your skin into his mouth and worrying it between his teeth. You nearly choked on a yelp, your hands scrambling to grip his shoulders. He let your skin loose with a pop, laving his tongue over the reddened flesh that was already starting to go purple before moving on to another open patch of skin. You couldn’t stop him now- he was dragging himself up your body, littering hickeys over your stomach and chest in his wake. If he could find empty space, he was leaving a mark there, his mark, because you were fucking his and no one could ever change that. 

When he finally reached your throat, he paused, smirking down at you as you caught your breath, your breasts heaving with each inhale. 

“Well well, what do we have here?” he drawled, tracing his fingertip around the handprint marring your throat. “Wanna tell me what this is doing here, sweetness?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know, asshole,” you panted defiantly. 

“Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly how it’s gonna be.”

“Hmm. Well, alright then.”

In a flash you were flipped onto your stomach, two fingers probing at your entrance while his other hand wrapped firmly around your neck. Your moans were reduced to a soft croak as he slid his fingers into you, not giving you even a second to adjust as he began fingering you in earnest. 

“I remember now,” he said, entirely too casual for what he was currently doing to you. “You talked back to me last night. Strutted in here actin’ like you owned the place, determined to be a fuckin’ brat. Well, guess you deserved what you had comin’ to you, huh? Although, it doesn’t seem like the lesson stuck. Too bad I have to teach it to you again.”

His words might as well have been gibberish sloshing around in your melting brain as he assaulted it with pleasure, adding another finger inside you and insistently prodding at your g-spot. You couldn’t tell if your head was spinning from how good he was or the lack of oxygen, because you couldn’t care less when you could hear him snapping his fingers to juice his boxers off, his hard cock springing out and slapping against his stomach. He positioned himself behind you, not letting up on his grip on your throat for a second. 

“You want me to fuck you, snack? Come on, beg for it, be a good girl for me,” he groaned, teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

“Beej, plea-” you tried to beg him, but he tightened his grip on your airway, cutting it off nearly completely and leaving your voice a bare squeak. 

“Sorry, what was that? Can’t hear you, babes.”

“Please,” you mouthed, your voice no longer able to escape as he tightened his grip once more. Your mind was foggy, your chest burned, and your pussy ached to be filled, and it was so exquisite that you could’ve cum from the lightest touch to your clit, if he’d been willing to give it to you. But no, he was too busy laughing at your frustration as you tried again and again to beg him for what he already knew you wanted. Finally, he let up a bit, giving you enough slack to take a shallow breath. God, he was such a fucking prick, but you loved him for it. 

“Alright, alright, babycakes,” he chuckled, pretending to wipe away a tear. Asshole. “I’ll give you what you want.”

“Fuck, thankyouthankyouthankyou,” you called out hoarsely as he slid into you, pumping his hips with little thrusts as he eased his way into you. 

“Mm, I’m gonna need two hands for this one, baby girl,” he hissed, overcome by the way your pussy clenched around him. “You’ve got one, maybe two seconds tops.”

His hand quickly uncurled from your throat, and you took a true deep breath, feeling the burn in your chest dissipate for a moment before Beej’s slender tail took his hand’s place, pressing once more against your airway. The sound of your choked-off moans as he thrust into you only egged him on, of course, and soon he was pounding into you with abandon, dragging his nails down your back and leaving angry red lines in their wake. 

“Fuck, Daddy, you feel so good,” you murmured shakily, your voice a rough whisper. “Oh fuck, right there, yes-” 

“Yeah, does that feel good, snack? Come on, I know you can cum for me, gonna feed me so good, give me that cum, sweetness,” he commanded, letting one hand trail down between your legs, circling your clit with the tips of his clawed fingers. You couldn’t have kept yourself from cumming if you tried, not when his deep, commanding voice forced itself into your brain and dragged the pleasure from you. You clenched around him as you let out a rough scream, trembling beneath him as your orgasm washed over you. He fucked you through it, dragging every ounce of pleasure out of you as he could before finally spilling into you, roughly groping your breasts as he groaned into your neck. You both shook as you collapsed to the mattress, panting and utterly wrecked. 

After a solid minute of silence, you finally snuggled into Beej’s chest, chuckling and out of breath. 

“Did you really not realize how much you marked me up last night?” you teased, your voice more hoarse than expected. 

“Oh fuck off, snack,” he chuckled good-naturedly. “You fed me so well last night it was like I’d had a Thanksgiving feast. I nearly passed out with my dick still in you! Forgive me for being a little forgetful.”

“Well…” you drawled, leaning up plant a soft kiss to his lips. “Consider this dessert then.”

“Dessert for breakfast, hmm? How naughty of you.”

“Wanna have an early lunch?”

“Come here.”

You’re relaxing on the sofa with Beetlejuice. You guys had been friends for a while now, ever since he appeared in your house and pestered you to say his name. He could be incredibly annoying but he wanted to watch horror movies with you and he didn’t mind letting you snuggle up to him on the sofa.

This particular night, Beej is being more over affectionate than usual,holding you close and playing with your hair at any given opportunity. He’s also fidgeting a lot - he can’t seem to keep still.You’re watching a film that he picked out and it doesn’t really make much sense to you but he seems to be enjoying it.

When the film is over, you go to get up off the sofa but you’re stopped by Beej grabbing your arm, 

“Y/N, just wait a second... um, I want to talk to you about something.” 

You panic for a moment, he sounds serious. You sit back down next to him, “what’s up, Beej?”

He looks, uncomfortable? no... not uncomfortable... nervous maybe? why would he be nervous?

“Look, we’ve been friends for ages and... well, the thing is...” he was tripping over his words as he tried to speak, “I think you’re awesome and, well, you’re super pretty and you're just fucking great."

"Beej is there a point to this?" you say, looking at him softly

He pauses. You can see the look on his face completely change and then the penny drops.

"I think I like you, Y/N, and not just as a friend, like in the way where I want to kiss you. The kind of like where I want to be inside you -"

"BEEJ!" You laugh, slapping his arm playfully.

"Hey! No, god, babes, I meant that in the least creepy way possible. I just think I like you more than I was planning too. I'm sorry if that's wrong and it's fine you know, you don;t have to like me like that either, I can stop liking you that way.. you know, if... if you want me too." By this point, he's rambling and the tips of his unruly hair are dusted with a deep pink. 

It's cute. He's clearly flustered.

You stare at him for a moment, the silence growing between you too. He fidgets some more, playing with his fingers nervously as he waits for you to say something.

You find yourself unable to find words, your heart beating heavily under your chest. Perhaps you had feeling for hi too you just were waiting for him to say something first. 

Without thinking, you lean in and place a soft kiss on his lips. He gasps, clearly surprised but he relaxes almost immediately, leaning into you. 

When you pull away, his hair is completely pink and he's flushed, as are you.

"Well, does that mean you like me that way too?" 

OK so I know I have a LOT of requests sitting in my inbox right now, but this idea just would not leave me alone, so here’s a little mafia!beej in your life! 

Also spoiler alert: this is all @yankyo‘s fault

NSFT WARNING

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

He’s regal, you think, the way he sits in his chair. He treats it as if it were a throne, his posture tall and confident as his eyes surveyed the room, not one of his men daring to meet his gaze for longer than a moment. Your chair, directly next to his, is shorter, forcing you to look up at him from below, the soft lamp light creating a fuzzy halo around his slicked-back hair. The thought of him as an angel almost makes you want to snicker, but you bite your tongue- this meeting is incredibly important to the future of Beetlejuice’s organization, and the associate he’s meeting with is notorious for punishing those who speak out of turn. You know he’d never lay a finger on you, unless he cared to lose it of course, but you’d never want to be the reason someone looked at your don in a negative light. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

The very thought made your body tremble with excitement.

I wasn’t planning on posting anything til Monday cause I don’t have a laptop, but for you, anything! Especially if you’re having a rough day, you deserve some cute Beej! So let’s explore a fluffy headcanon, shall we?

So I 100% believe that Beej is entirely fascinated with certain physical quirks that come with being alive

These include: farting, burping, sneezing, and hiccuping. He just...doesn’t know what they feel like? Or why breathers do them? Why do farts smell bad? And why do you sound like a child when you sneeze? (this is @ing me completely) He just has so many questions.

He tries his best to do them but he can’t figure out how. One day, you come home from work to see Beej shoveling whole ass cans of beans down his throat because he read somewhere that they make you gassy. There are 10 empty cans on the kitchen table. You start questioning your life choices.

You simply shrug it off, pointing out that even if eating all the beans in your pantry isn’t working now, he’ll get to experience it someday soon when he’s alive again. He pauses with his eleventh can halfway to his mouth.

“Whatdya talkin’ about, babes?” he asks. “Not like Lyds is gonna be up to marryin’ me again anytime soon...or ever.”

You shake your head fondly. “For a millenia old demon, you’re incredibly dense, you know that?” You turn and walk into the living room with a knowing smile, plopping down on the couch and waiting.

3...2...1...you hear the can in his hand crash to the tiled floor. Oh good, he’s figured it out.

He nearly crashes into two walls and a loveseat in his floundering attempt at reaching you, but eventually he makes it and drops to his knees in front of you, all pink-haired and toothy grinned.

“Babes, do you...do you really mean it?” he asks, reaching out to grasp both of your hands.

“Of course I do, Beej,” you answer, running you thumbs soothingly over the pink hair on his knuckles. “How couldn’t I?”

“How couldn’t you? I mean...look at me, doll, I’m not exactly makin’ the cover of any magazines,” he says, glancing down at himself. “You could be walkin’ down a runway right now and yet you’re sitting here with a dead guy.”

“Soon-to-be-alive guy, first of all,” you reply with a soft grin. “Beej...after all the mind-blowing sex we’ve had, you’re really gonna question if I’m attracted to you?”

You knew the way to this heart, and it was through crude humor. His self-conscious frown spread into a self-satisfied grin as he pulled you off the couch and into his arms.

“Guess you got a point there, babes. A hot piece off ass like yourself wouldn’t scream for just anybody,” he points out smugly. “The Ghost With The Most knows how to please a lady.”

“Yes, yes he does,” you chuckle, running your fingers through his hair. “But I mean it, Beej...I love you. And if I didn’t make it clear before, I plan on being with you forever. If you’ll have me, of course.”

His sappy grin softens the corner of his eyes, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Whatever happened to ‘til death do you part’, huh?” he says softly.

You hum, leaning in for a slow, sweet kiss. “Since when has death ever stopped us?” you whisper against his lips. He groans softly and captures your lips again, savoring the taste of you and the warmth of your body pressed against his.

“The answer is yes, by the way,” he says, pulling away despite you trying to chase his lips. “I know you weren’t tryin’ to ask, I mean, you didn’t even get me a ring yet. I expect a black diamond, no less than 4 carats, and a platinum band with ‘BootyJuice’ engraved on the inside.”

“Doesn’t tradition mandate you put the ring on MY finger, BJ?” you ask with a laugh. “Besides, unless you feel like helping me commit a felony, there’s no way I can afford a rock that size.”

“Wouldn’t call us ‘traditional’, babes, buuuuuut if you insist,” he says with a shrug. With a wave of his hand, he’s holding a ring, glittering and delicate and perfect. You gasp softly, one hand flying up to cover your lips. Oh my God, this is actually happening.

“Babes,” he begins. “I don’t know the first thing about marriage. I mean, my first marriage was to a 14-year-old, and I kinda got stabbed after having an emotional breakdown, but...oh would you stop looking at me like that, it was a green card thing! Anyways...you’re it for me, doll. Ain’t no one ever gonna take you away from me...if you say yes, that is. Make me the happiest demon in the Netherworld and marry me?”

You throw yourself completely into his arms, whispering your answer over and over into his shoulder. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

With a teary laugh, he slides the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly, just as you expected it would. You watch it glitter in the light...and pause.

“...You stole this, didn’t you?” you deadpan.

“You call it stealing, I like to call it ‘borrowing without collateral’.”

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot,” you laugh, pulling him in for a celebratory kiss. Wait until Lydia found out- she’d been planning your future wedding for months, determined for it to be a much happier occasion than her own. You’d have to veto the whole “releasing the crows” thing, but you were sure she’d kill it as a wedding planner. Of course, you’d have to get married at her place so Adam and Barbara could attend, and how would you explain this to your MOM, and-

You shut your brain off, choosing to focus on him, your fiancé, the love of your life. Your Beetlejuice.

“Beej?”

“Yeah, babes?”

“You taste like beans.”

“I love you too.”

MmOh G O D 

You apparently don’t quite get how hot you are, because you walk out in your Halloween costume like it’s fucking nothing and Beej is fucking floored.

You’re dressed as a fairly stereotypical sexy devil, save for one thing- your dress is black and white striped, as are your horns, positioned over freshly dyed green hair. Beej already thought that you with his hair was hot as fuck, but you in his stripes...

“Fuck me sideways, babes, you look like a million bucks,” he groans, swooping in to pull you against him, inhaling your scent deeply. “What’re you supposed to be?”

“Oh fuck off, Beej,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Do I make a good you?”

“I don’t know, sweetness, this isn’t quite me,” he muses, looking you over and letting his gaze drag up your exposes thighs. “I’m not one for tight dresses and thigh-highs, though I could be for you, if ya wanted.”

“I’d pay to see that,” you laughed. “But not now. I have a party to get to!” You attempted to pull yourself from Beetlejuice’s arms, but he tightened his grip, his gaze suddenly dark and intense.

“I’m sorry, doll, do you mean to tell me that you wanna leave the house lookin’ like this?” he asked, his voice a near growl. “That’s not how this works.”

“Who said you get to tell me when I can and can’t leave the house?” you asked, letting your playful tone saturate your words to make your intentions entirely clear.

“Me, babycakes, in case I didn’t make that clear,” he said, letting his hands trail up your thighs and up to grip your ass. “I’m in charge here, and I say you can’t go out lookin’ like such a hot piece of ass. You think I want some sweaty fuckin’ breather leering at you when you’re mine?” 

Mm, that growl in his voice was doing things to you. You’d really been looking to this party, but something about the way your boyfriend was looking at you, holding you, ooh, kissing you, his lips trailing up your neck to nibble on your ear, well, maybe staying home wouldn’t be so bad. 

“You better give me a reason to stay then, Beej,” you say, your voice trailing off into a soft moan as his hands knead at your ass. “Or else I’m gonna walk out that door and let whoever wants to get a good look.”

“Oh no you don’t!” he says, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, running you up the stairs and to your bedroom as you let out peals of laughter. “I’ll give you a plenty good enough reason, babes. How about my cock nice and deep inside you, that good enough for ya?”

You chuckled as Beej slipped your panties from under your dress, throwing them to some unimportant corner of the room, hissing as his fingers began to circle your clit. “Good enough for me, Beej, come on, please...”

He chuckled darkly and immediately buried his face between your legs, letting his tongue lap up your wetness. You gasped sharply, burying your fingers in his hair and tugging as he let the tip of his tongue ghost over your clit. He ate you out vigorously, egged on by the wails he managed to pull from your throat. He loved it, loved making you feel so good that you had to clutch the sheets or his hair in pleasure. When he finally did pull away, you groaned in protest, trying to use your ankles to bring his face back to your core, but he persisted, vanishing his clothes with a single snap of his fingers. 

“Aww, I know how much you love my mouth, but my cock is achin’ for ya, don’t you want me to fuck you?” he asked, his voice cloyingly sweet. Without warning, he plunged two fingers inside of you, your back arching off the bed. “Tell me, babycakes, tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Ungh, Beej, I want you to fuck me, please,” you begged, grinding down against his fingers. He snarled, getting his cock in you as quickly as he could and bottoming out with a loud groan. 

“Ngh yeah, that’s the stuff,” he moaned, pressing in and out of you cautiously. “How you feelin’ down there, doll?”

“Good, fucking good, just move,” you demanded, crossing your ankles behind his hips and pulling him towards you. He let his mouth trail hot, wet kisses along your neck and collarbone as he began to piston into you violently, his teeth and tongue dragging along your skin as you clutched at him. “Mm, Beej, you feel so good, just- oh fuck, right there, right there, shit.”

“Hohoho fuck yeah, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good, you wanna cum? You wanna fuckin’ cum?” he growled in your ear, letting his hand drop down to start playing with your clit. “Come on, sweetness, give me that cum-”

Your back arched, your pussy clenching around Beetlejuice as you gave him what he wanted. He came shortly after, the way you were milking his cock from your own pleasure driving him over the edge. When you’d both spent all you had to give, you collapse to the bed. You realized that your dress was rumpled and torn, and your neck and shoulders were littered with dark purple bruises and bite marks. No way in the world were you leaving tonight, looking so thoroughly fucked. Beetlejuice took one look at you and smirked triumphantly, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around your waist.

(This has been sitting in my drafts for WAY too long, I’m sorry for the delay, my love! ALSO I’ve been meaning to write incubus!beej for a L O N G time so we’re just gonna indulge my fantasies for a moment)

“Count them, baby girl.”

You were floating. Entirely weightless in a sea of sharp pain and warm pleasure, your body trembled and squirmed and ached for him. With each strike of his tail against your ass, you managed to count in a choked off whisper, the pain only serving to send you closer and closer to oblivion.

“Sorry, what was that? Couldn’t hear ya, snack.”

You struggled, but you managed to count louder. Wisps of his voice curled around your ear like warm smoke. You wish you could see him, touch him, but your wrists were bound together in front of you and your eyes were hidden securely beneath a velvety blindfold. There was no escape from the punishment you so rightfully earned…

“Sweetness, what’dya think you’re doing?” Beetlejuice asked slowly, his voice dripping with a saccharine sarcasm. It was clearly a warning, so obviously meant to threaten you back into submission, but you stared defiantly back at him, quirking an eyebrow and shooting him a smirk, making it entirely clear that you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

“Nothing, Beej,” you countered innocently, “why, what does it look like I’m doing?”

He stared down at where you laid at his side, curled into his chest as he was trying to enjoy your favorite horror movie. Weirdly enough, he actually liked some of the movies you watched, especially this one, the black-and-white old school horror reminding him of the old days, a time where you were barely a twinkle in your father’s eye. And he was enjoying it, of course, until he felt you shifting rhythmically, your thighs flexing not-so-innocently and your grip on his shirt tightening. The honeyed scent of your arousal made his nostrils flare, a soft growl rumbling in his chest.

“I don’t need to look to know what you’re up to, snack,” he retorted. “Any incubus within 100 miles could smell the lust you’re givin’ off, especially if you keep rubbing your thighs together like that. What did I tell you about touchin’ yourself?” He dug his clawed fingers into your thigh, the sharp pinpricks warning you to watch what you said next.

“Aww, is someone grumpy cause he’s hungry?” you cooed condescendingly at him, moaning quietly as you flexed your muscles just right and sent a shot of pleasure to your core. Clearly, whatever warning he was giving you would not be heeded. “Would it make you feel better if I let you watch?”

Well. Now you’d really done it.

Within half a second you were pinned to the couch, your hands restrained on either side of your head by a very angry demon. He forced your thighs apart with his leg in order to keep you from disobeying him further.

“Do you think that’s funny, morsel?” he snarled, “Because I’m not fuckin’ laughing.”

“Beej…”

“Don’t you ‘Beej’ me,” he spat, tangling his right hand in your hair and tugging harshly. His hair was a gorgeous mix of magenta and crimson, lust and rage in a perfect combination that you knew would lead to the night of your life. “You know the rules around here, and you know I’m the one that sets ‘em. Do you know what happens to little sluts who break the rules?”

When you didn’t answer, he yanked your hair even harder, pulling a pitiful whimper from your throat.

“Do you?”

“They get punished…”

“Yeah, they do,” he said. “At least you got one thing right tonight. Get that sorry ass upstairs now, and if your clothes aren’t on the floor by the time I get up there you’re gonna wish you were never born.”

…and so here you were. Bound, trembling, so deep in your submission that you couldn’t even beg for more as you pressed your face into the mattress. But he knew, of course. He always knew. He could smell it on you, the desire, and it only made him whip you harder. You heard a satisfied laugh break through the haze of pleasure surrounding you.

“You haven’t gotten a full number out since 15, snack,” he chuckled. “Maybe tellin’ you to count was a little harsh of me. I think you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”

“N-no!” you croaked abruptly. Silence. Clearly, you’d caught him off-guard.

“No?” he asked, confusion tinging his voice. “You tellin’ me you still wanna act out?”

“No…I just…ruin me…” you whispered. More silence. And then…laughter. Barking, incessant laughter.

“Ohhhhh babycakes, you better run that by me one more time. And think long and hard about what you’re askin’ for,” he chuckled. Really, his heart was swelling with pride. That’s his girl, his pet breather, brought to the edge and begging to be shoved off. You’d come so far, and he couldn’t be prouder. And of course, the sight of you, bound and at his mercy and begging him to ruin you only made his cock grow harder in his pants.

“Please,” you begged, finally getting your voice back as your desire took control. “Ruin me. I mean it, ruin me completely. I don’t want to be able to walk, or speak, or think, just ruin me.”

You continued to mumble your pleas as you heard a purr rumble through Beej’s chest. You could guess that he was running his fingers through his hair, letting the weight of your words hang heavy in his mind. Ruin me, you asked.

“What can I say, Y/N?” he asked softly, letting his clawed fingers trail up the back of your leg. “What else can I do when my precious little feeder begs me all nice and pretty?”

He flipped you suddenly onto your back, your bound wrists resting between your breasts as he wrenched your thighs open. He took a deep breath from between your legs, greedily inhaling and groaning at the scent of spice and sugar practically swallowing him up.

“Mmmm, that really got you goin’, didn’t it, slut?” he crooned, letting his tongue dip into you to every so slightly taste you. “But I bet I can get you wetter.”

You heard the whistle of his tail whipping through the air before you felt it. You screamed harshly as he left welt after welt on your inner thighs, each angry red stripe only egging him on further. You were bruised, soaked with sweat, your pussy nearly dripping, and yet you had the audacity to beg and scream and moan for more. By the time he pulled away to admire his handiwork, you’d cum twice from the lightest of touches to your clit along with his merciless whipping, leaving your thighs slick and burning. You couldn’t stop trembling if you tried, your head lolled back as if you were about to pass out.

“You doin’ alright there, morsel? You know what to do if it’s too much,” he asked, the tips of his hair turning the slightest bit white with worry. All you knew to do was to spread your legs wider, the idea of safewording so far out of your mind that the thought of it seemed silly.

“Fuck me,” you said, your voice hoarse after all the screaming. A beat, and then the blindfold was ripped from your face, Beej’s eyes burning red as they met yours.

“Beg,” he said simply, letting two fingers tease at your entrance before sliding them in and scissoring them roughly. You moaned, arching your back off the bed while still holding his gaze, your defiant spirit momentarily reignited.

“Fuck me,” you demanded. “I asked you to ruin me, if I can still talk it’s not good enough!”

Slap. You gritted your teeth through your scream as he brought his hand down on your inner thigh, aggravating the fresh welts he’d left just minutes ago.

“Goddammit, snack, just put in all that effort to teach you a lesson and you’re already forgettin’ it,” he said condescendingly, continuing to fuck you with his fingers. “Tell me, who the fuck is in charge here?”

“Y-you are,” you moaned, his fingers curling so perfectly inside you.

“Damn straight I am,” he growled, leaning down to nibble and suck at your breasts. “You know, this attitude of yours is really starting to piss me off. Next time you talk back, I’m gonna strap a vibrator to you and head down to the Netherworld until I’m in a better mood, understand?”

Just the thought of being left tied up with a vibrator pulling endless orgasms out of you sent a shiver through you. Another day, you thought, but today you were simply too desperate for Beetlejuice, so you nodded silently.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling his fingers out of you despite your protesting groan. He chuckled as he undressed, his cock bobbing against his stomach. You were practically salivating at this point, unable to stop staring at him. “You still want me to fuck you, sweetness?”

“Y-yes, Beej, I need-”

“Sorry, what was that? Can’t quite hear you,” he teased. God, you wanted to smack that smirk off his face, but you were too desperate for him to disobey.

“Please, Beej, Jesus Christ, I need you so fucking bad. I won’t talk back again, I promise, just-”

Heaven. Absolute sublime pleasure. You threw your had back, your words interrupted as he slid into you with one firm thrust, his thumbs mercilessly playing with your nipples. He grinned wickedly down at you, his tail slithering up your body to wrap firmly around you throat.

“Mm, so tight for me, snack,” he groaned, giving you a few good thrusts. “Don’t hold back for me now, alright? I intend to have my cake and eat it too.”

“T-that doesn’t even make se-oh fuck Beej, yes,” you groaned, his thrusts picking up in speed and intensity. His tail was tightening around your throat, your moans coming out all croaky and fucking God if it didn’t make Beetlejuice fuck you even harder. He wrapped his arms around your back, cradling you close as he fucked into you.

“Does that feel good, babycakes?” he groaned, leaning down to kiss you roughly. He smiled as you nodded, angling his thrusts to perfectly hit that spot inside you that made you see stars. “Look at you, feedin’ me so well. You gonna cum for me?”

You wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from cumming if you even tried, you realized, as he let one hand trail down your body to start rubbing your clit. You whimpered, the sound choked off by his tail constricting your airway. You nodded quickly, feeling yourself tense up as the pleasure was swiftly approaching.

“That’s it, snack, cum for me, scream for me-”

And scream you did. As much as you could, anyway, with your head swimming in the pleasure and lack of oxygen as your orgasm took you away, your entire body convulsing in Beej’s arms. He fucked you through it, and through two more after that, whispering filthy nothings into your ear before finally cumming himself, filling you exquisitely. He finally unwrapped his tail from around your throat and you instinctively took a deep breath, sprawled out on the mattress with the head rush it brought. Your ass and thighs burned, your chest heaved with your breathing, your pussy was sore and dripping cum, and your head was spinning, and Jesus Christ it was glorious.

Beej cradled you tenderly in his arms, letting you shake and pant through your afterglow. He pressed sweet kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, until finally, you opened your eyes and met his gaze.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, babes,” he joked, sweeping a strand of hair out of your face. “Didn’t get a glimpse of the Netherworld, did ya?” You giggled, leaning up to kiss him sweetly.

“Not quite my time, I think,” you replied shakily. “Though that’s about as close as I’ve come to death. What a way to go, right?”

“Baby, if I had to do it all over again, I’d definitely love to be fucked to death by you,” he chuckled. “Really, though, how are you feelin’? I’ve never given you a punishment that intense before.”

“Oh please, I deserved it,” you admitted. “Besides, I asked you to ruin me, didn’t I? I’d say you succeeded. Went above and beyond the call of duty, even!”

“Alright, you little shit, come ‘ere,” he laughed, pulling your firmly into his side. “Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

And as you slipped into unconsciousness, you could only smile mischievously.

Wonder how I could rile him up tomorrow...

It’s showtime, babes! @scribblepigeon and I are here to give you the slow burn incubus!beej that I know we’ve been craving, so I hope you guys will enjoy it. I wanna make it totally clear that the basis for this fic was ENTIRELY Pidge’s idea, so bless her kind soul for letting me right it and providing companion art. Let’s get down to business, shall we?

The silence in your bedroom was maddening as you laid in your bed, curled up in your blanket as if hiding away in your little nest was going to fix everything. The fact of the matter was that you were sad, more than sad, and you were alone. You were alone every night with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company, and your thoughts were vindictive little bitches that liked to see you cry. You were fed up with being alone, and you were fed up with crying yourself to sleep, and goddammit you just wanted someone to be there for you and hold you when you needed them. 

And that’s where he came in. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit that you liked to dabble in the occult, and your multiple online searches kept getting you the same name, every time. Beetlejuice. 

Say his name three times, and you’ll never need to be alone again. Seemed simple, you supposed, though there always seemed to be a catch with these kinds of things. Still, though, you were desperate, and desperate people were so often willing to pay the price for what they needed. So, you sat up on your mattress, took a deep breath, and resigned yourself to whatever your next words might bring. 

“Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice.” 

Your words were so hushed even you could barely make them out, but apparently, they were enough. With a loud crash of thunder and a blast of green smoke, he was there, and as the smoke dissipated, you took him in. He wasn’t exactly what you expected- frankly, he didn’t look a lot like a demon, apart from the curled horns framing his coiffed green hair and the long, skinny tail sticking out from the back of his black and white striped suit. If you’d paid more attention, you would’ve noticed his flashing yellow eyes and the sharp claws adorning the tips of his fingers, but you were more concerned with the sharp teeth adorning his mouth as he flashed you a wicked grin.

“Well well, what do we have here?” he drawled, his tail flicking absentmindedly behind him. “Hello, morsel. Do you have a name? It’d be rude of me not to ask, given how you said mine all nice and pretty.”

“Y-Y/N,” you stuttered, gripping your comforter between your fingers. “I...what are you?”

At that, he let out a cackle from deep in his belly, pretending to wipe tears away from his eyes in amusement. 

“You’re telling me that you were willing to summon any ol’ demon you heard about online?” he questioned, his voice still broken with laughter. “Honestly, that is just too rich, sweetness. You wanna know what I am?” 

When you nodded, you suddenly found yourself pinned to your mattress, his claws digging dangerously into your wrists as he held you in place. He smelled like the earth on a cold fall morning and his eyes flashed with mischief but, oddly, without malice. Truth be told...you were entranced by him. 

“I’m an incubus, sweet cheeks,” he growled, his breath puffing warmly over your face. “I feed off of pretty little things like you. I show you pleasure you’ve never experienced in your fragile little life, and in return, I get to have myself a niiiiice little snack. Although...no one I’ve ever had has been able to truly satiate me. I wonder if you’ll be different?” 

“Yeah, I’m gonna stop you right there,” you interrupted, pushing at him until he rolled to the side of you and released your wrists. “I didn’t summon you because I’m horny, I summoned you because I’m alone and I just...I need to be held.”

For once in his afterlife, Beetlejuice was rendered speechless, his eyes wide with disbelief. You didn’t have to lie to him- he could smell how aroused he’d made you, a syrupy fragrance that made him feel even more starved than he already was. And yet, he could tell that you really weren’t interested in what he was offering, despite your physical reaction to him. What a curious little breather you were. 

“You, uh...you know that’s not really what I’m meant for, right?” he asked, sitting up against your headboard. 

“Well, I do now,” you admitted. “But I’m desperate, Beetlejuice. Just...would you do this for me, please? 

He had to admit, he was intrigued by you. He’d never had someone who was so obviously aroused by him deny him a feeding, and he knew he really needed it. He should tell you to go fuck yourself and go find some other breather who’s willing to give him what he needs, but...you look so sad. He knows what it’s like to be sad, and against all his better judgement, he wants to help you. 

“...Alright, sweetness, I’ll hold you. But just ‘til you fall asleep, alright? I’ve got business to attend to,” he said, sliding next you and rolling you onto your side so he could pull you against him, pressing his chest against his back. You hummed, settling yourself in his arms. 

“You’re hotter than I expected,” you admitted, feeling warmed to the core by how much body heat he was giving off. You heard what was almost a purr rumble deep in his chest as he pulled you more firmly against him.

“Does that mean you’ve changed your mind, morsel?” he drawled into your ear, his tongue dipping out just slightly to trace along your earlobe. You shivered, but managed to kick backwards, landing a solid kick on his shin. It didn’t seem to phase him at all, but you felt satisfied. 

“I meant you’re literally hot, asshole, don’t try anything funny,” you warned. He chuckled against your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the skin. You’d let it slide for now, if only because it felt incredibly comforting.

“Whatever you say,” he ceded slyly. “Now, try and sleep. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Those words made a small smile tug at the corner of your lips, and the knowledge of his presence and the warmth of his body holding you close lulled you to sleep. He felt it, your breath slowing and deepening as you slipped into unconsciousness. He was about to pull away from you and say adios to one fucking weird night, but...he couldn’t bring himself to do it, not when you’d asked him so prettily to hold you and comfort you. Grumbling, he buried his face in your shoulder, hoping he himself could get some sleep if he tried. He felt it coming over him, and settled into it, pushing his hunger aside in favor of being there for you...an absolute stranger. 

“...What the fuck am I getting myself into?”

YAY YAY IT’S FINALLY HERE <3 Stay tuned for @scribblepigeon and her art that will be accompanying each part of this story AND the next part, coming soon!

UGH ok y’all really got me going with these and I for real cannot complain at all

Also, let it be known now that I typically write from a cis!female perspective, given that I am a cis female. I would be willing to write from a more gender neutral perspective if asked, but I’m hesitant to write Beej with a cis!male, not because I wouldn’t want to, but because I wouldn’t want to contribute to the fetishization that MLM couples so often go through. Not to say that any other female writers that write Beej with a male are doing so, I just had a major problem with that back in the day when I first started writing fanfiction and I don’t ever want to do that again, because fetishizing gay couples simply for being gay isn’t cool my dudes. 

CW: Name calling, light BDSM, general dirty things!

SO

It was a coworker’s birthday at work on Friday, so you were all invited out for drinks to celebrate. Beetlejuice, of course, wanted to go with you. “To protect you from creeps,” he said, but really it was to keep a hand on your hip, ready to make it very clear to all in the club that you were spoken for, if only you’d say his name. 

As much as you’d love to take Beetlejuice with you, you somehow think that being dragged away from any hopeful suitor by an unseen specter would not go over well. So, you begged him to let you go out on your own, promising to be home by 10, untouched and unharmed. Reluctantly, he agreed, so long as you wore his tie with your outfit- if he couldn’t go with you, he wanted his mark on you while you were gone.

You chuckled in amusement and slipped off to your bedroom to find an outfit to pair well with his striped tie, which you washed a few times in the sink for good measure given its…hygienic state. You eventually met Beej once more in your living room, a white button up and tight black skirt paired with his tie and the glittering sandworm bracelet he had made for you in the Netherworld.

Dear sweet God/Satan, you looked fucking delectable. He wanted to tear that fucking skirt, if you could even call that measly piece of fabric a skirt, off of your thighs and leave his mark on every inch of that smooth, delicious skin. But he knew how much you wanted to get out and enjoy some time with your friends, so he reluctantly attempted to shoo away his impending hard-on and stood up to greet you, whistling lowly. 

“Damn, sweetness, you look good enough to eat,” he drawled, leering at you darkly. “And with my tie, mmm, fucking impeccable. Now, are you gonna behave for me while you’re gone, doll?”

You nod with a sweet smile, understanding how much stress this was likely to put your boyfriend under. You appreciated his willingness to fight his insecurities so you could have time with your friends- and you wanted to make sure he knew.

“I’ll keep to myself, I promise, babe,” you say, drawing your fingertips down the side of his face. “Until I get home, of course. Then I’m all yours, as a thank you for what you’re doing for me tonight.”

The tips of his hair flashed pink as he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. “No need to thank me, babes. Just…don’t make me wait up. I want you to come back to me, safe and sound, alright?”

You answered with a simple kiss, rubbing your thumb over his cheek before pulling away and rushing out the front door with a wave. He sighed happily, drunk on even the softest of your kisses. God dammit, he was whipped…and he fucking loved it, damn you, you and your soft eyes and your warm smile and your beating heart. He stared after you for a moment before sighing and plopping down on your couch, already counting the seconds until your return.

2:00 AM, 5 hours later

Too many seconds. Too many fucking seconds. You were supposed to be home 4 fucking hours ago and he wasn’t sure if he should be worried for your safety, worried about your relationship, or angry at your lack of care for your promises. He’d spent the last hour debating on finding whatever bar you’d gone to and checking up on you, but the deep voice of anxiety in his mind warning him that he might find you in the midst of breaking his heart kept him glued to the couch, watching the front door anxiously. The minute he heard the knob turn, the pit of his stomach filled with a slurry of emotions.

You stumbled into your living room, reeking of alcohol and sweat and…who the fuck got close enough to you to leave their scent in your hair, on your skin, on your clothes? Beetlejuice rose from the couch, arms crossed with eyes of cold steel. You freeze- fuck, what time is it anyway?

“Where. Have you. Been?” he asked coldly, slowly, as if a perfect storm was brewing inside his lungs and ready to explode past his fanged teeth and lips worried raw. 

“Baby, I’m sorry, fuck, what time even is it? I had too much to drink-” Without another word from you, Beetlejuice snaps his fingers, and you feel the intoxication flee from your brain, your senses coming back to you as your body voids itself of the remnants of your night out. Suddenly, it’s all clear- he’s been waiting 4 hours longer than you promised he would, all alone, thinking God knows what about what you were up to. “Oh…oh my God. Beej, honey, please, I’m so sorry-”

“Whose scent is on you right now?” he growled, crimson beginning to crawl his way from root to tip in his hair, his eyes flashing dangerously with barely-restrained rage. “Who the fuck did you let close enough to you that I can smell him from here?”

Oh fuck. You were in for it, and you knew it. Despite the constant coldness of his body, you could feel heat radiating from him, as if the anger was truly burning deep inside him. But there was something else- the tips of his hair were a deep, rich blue. He wasn’t just angry- he was sad. 

“Baby, it was no one, I swear. There’s not much room in bars, people are pressed up against each other all the time! No one touched me like that, nothing happened.” God, you just wanted to fix this. 

“Nothing happened, huh? Then where the hell have you been?” he yelled, his fists clenching at his sides. “You promised me you would be home at 10, yet here you are, dragging yourself in at 2 AM, and you don’t smell like me anymore, you just smell like booze and other men and all the fun you had without me. Tell me, babes, did you have fun without me?” His voice broke a little at the very end of his sentence, his eyes trailed on the ground. God fucking dammit, you fucked up so badly- he was willing to challenge his insecurities for you, willing to let you go out on your own despite how scared it made him, and you took that trust and you practically spit on it. 

“Beej, please, I’m so sorry. Just…let me make it up to you,” you plead. Those last few words make his ears perk up, as if they’ve sparked an idea in his mind. Suddenly, he shoots you a snarling sneer, his hair deepened with streaks of magenta and his eyes locked on his tie around your neck.

“Oh, sweetness…trust me. You will.” In an instant, he has you pinned against the wall, lips crashing against yours, all teeth and tongue and wet heat. He hoisted you against the wall, his hands clutching your hips so tightly you knew you’d have bruises in the morning. You kissed him back ferociously, letting your hands drape over his shoulder and clutch at his suit jacket as your guilt is muddled with lust. He pulled away, smirking darkly at you. “I’ll tell you what’s about to happen, baby. You’re going to take my cock, nice and deep, and I’m gonna fuck you against this wall until the scent of whatever ugly breather got too close to you is gone. And if that takes all night? Well, I hope you’ve got it in you to cum more than once, because I’m not stopping, not unless you safeword. Is that fucking clear, or do I need to repeat myself?”

You gulped, feeling your panties grow wetter and wetter as he growled against your lips. Dear fucking Jesus, you still felt bad for what you did, but if it led to this…no, you weren’t gonna justify how you hurt him, but you were certainly gonna catalog this little escapade away for future exploration. You nodded feverishly, trying to lean in for another kiss, but he fisted his hand in your hair and held your head firmly against the wall.

“Stay still, Little Red, before the big bad wolf comes knockin’,” he drawled, placing your feet on the floor before tearing your skirt and your panties from your body. He whistled lowly, letting his fingers dip between your folds and gather your wetness on his finger tips. “Damn, darlin’, maybe you want the big bad wolf to come eat you up. Tell me, is that what you want? You want my mouth on you?”

A whine built in the back of your throat as you nod, biting your lips as his fingertip circles your swollen clit. “Fuck, Beej, please-”

“Oh no, I’m not your Beej tonight,” he snarled, letting his hand smack harshly against your ass. “Try again.”

“Fuck…Sir, please, please, your mouth!” you cried out. He chuckled darkly, gripping both of your thighs in his hands.

“Good girl, babycakes,” he said, letting his tongue trace along your folds, dipping in to circle your clit and reveling in the way your thighs trembled under his fingers. Your breathing quickened, your hands scrambling to find purchase in his hair as he tortured you with light traces of his tongue on your clit and down to your entrance. He let two fingers slip inside you as he sucked on your clit, growing harder at the sound of the long, deep moan it drew from you. When he felt you were properly prepared for him, he pulled away, despite your babbling protest. He unzipped his trousers, letting his cock spring out as he hoisted you back up against the wall, the swollen head dragging against your already sensitive pussy. 

“Sir, please, I’ll be good, I promise, just please fuck me-” and oh was it good when he slid into you in one smooth thrust, his face buried in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent. He growled, giving you a quick, deep thrust. 

“You still smell like him,” he snarled. “Beg me, slut. Beg me to show you who you belong to, beg me to make you mine.”

“You, Sir, I belong to you, please, God, show me!” you cried out, grinding your hips down onto him. Something in him clearly snapped as he began to thrust into you wildly, his teeth sinking into your neck. You threw your head back against the wall, seeing stars and not giving anything even close to a shit because he felt so good, so warm, so strong. His cock hit that special spot inside you that made you clench around him, a hoarse scream wrenched from your lips.

“Yeah, right there? Right fucking there? Tell me, slut, that does that feel good?” he growled.

“Fuck yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close, please please let me cum!” 

“My, ngh, sweet little slut, you can beg harder than that can’t you? Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, so wet around my cock baby,” he groaned, pounding into you with such intensity that you weren’t sure how much longer you could wait for his permission.

“Sir, please, fuck, I’ll be so good for you, I’ll never come home late again, I need to cum, holy shit, fuck, harder, let me cum!” you cried, your nails scratching down his shoulders in ecstasy. He laughed, taking pity on you and he reached down to play with your clit, and one, two, three thrusts later you were cumming around him, arching your back away from the wall as he too spilled inside you with a quiet groan into your neck. Finally, you slid to the floor in his arms, both sweaty and spent and high on adrenaline and dopamine and whatever other chemicals your love triggered inside you. After catching your breath, you opened your eyes to see him staring back at you, with his vibrant pink hair drooping down over his forehead. You smiled softly, shyly, and ran your fingers through it. 

“Beetlejuice, I mean it. I am so, so sorry that I came home so late. I knew how big of a challenge this was going to be for you, and yet I was entirely careless and that wasn’t fair to you. And as absolutely mind-blowing as that sex was, I don’t want this conversation to end there. You deserve better than that. I want to know how you’re feeling,” you murmured, pulling him next to you against a wall and laying your head on his shoulder. You felt him heave a heavy sigh. 

“I’m better now that you don’t smell like some fucking sweaty ass breather,” he said. “But…I was questioning everything. I wanted to come find you, make sure you weren’t hurt or worse, but I just…I thought maybe you’d decided you didn’t want me, met someone else that made you happier, and that if I came to find you, I’d just see that it was all true.” 

Fuck it all if that didn’t stab you right in the gut. You can see the tips of Beej’s hair fading to a soft blue, tinged with sadness, and you can’t resist the urge to lean up and leave soft, loving kisses across his face.

“There is no one that can make me happier than you do, Beej,” you asserted, meeting his gaze intently. “You really think some random asshole in a bar could ever live up to you? I mean, you’re the Ghost with the Most, you rock my world, you hold me steady when I’m weak, you make me laugh when I want to cry, I just…no one-night-stand in a bar would ever be worth losing your love, losing you. I love you, Beetlejuice. I love you more than you know, and that’s OK. I understand your fear, and I promise, I’m going to be more cognizant of how my actions affect you from now on. And if I mess up…well, sometimes naughty sluts need punishing, hm?” You added that last bit with a less-than-innocent wink, pulling a laugh from Beetlejuice’s lips despite the tears shimmering in his eyes.

“I love you too, babes, you know that? I never thought some fragile, living girl could ever hold me down, but I don’t regret it for a second. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I know I don’t remember that a lot but…I’m tryin’, babes. You know I’m tryin, right?” he asked, unsure. You smile, leaning forward for one final kiss before pulling him to his feet and towards your bedroom- a very long cuddle session is in order.

“Yeah, Beej. I know.”

AAAAAAAH I really need to go to sleep but W O W