#beetledeetz

"Three Thousand Years of Longing"

If so, how did you like the movie and if not I totally recommend it. It's an interesting and wild watch while also being kind of beautiful. The reason why I'm even recommending this movie though, is because of how heavily it gives off alucardxintegra vibes. From the historical elements to the dynamic between the suave yet helpless romantic supernatural being, and a middle aged British woman who is dedicated to her work and chronically single. 

Hi 😭 I'm so sorry for the late reply i keep forgetting to watch the movie and reply but I've finally remembered it and watched it and I owe you my life for introducing the movie to me. The cinematography and overall story was INCREDIBLE!!! And I sooo agree the conversation tension is very much like alucard/integra

On a side note this trope of lady and her supernatural companion reminds me of The ghost and the lady (in the Black Museum series), a story inspired by Florence Nightingale 😭 Please do give it a try as well they also have much alucard/integra vibe. This manga is one of my most favourite ones and I cried a flood reading it. The artstyle is really one of a kind as well this manga is really a great artwork.

When a certain ghoul works some magic into your dreams what else can you do but panic?

HejHej! @babes-week prompt No.2 (Dream) is late as hell, but now you can read a short bit of a long term rp fic planned out by Me and BugBreaths on Archive of Our Own. 

So without further ado, here is an excerpt of Dream a little dream of me.

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The house was quiet. Not a peep coming from anyone. Yet as everyone rested so peacefully, Lydia was plagued with a fitfull sleep. It had been a few weeks since the hellish wedding. Which left everyone, including herself, baffled with how quickly it all ensued. However, the thing that stuck with Lydia most, was a certain ghost. Ratted yellow hair, with moss to decorate the ends, a gravelly voice that she could feel rumble so close to her at some point, eyes that held truly evil plans, all of which she was so much more intrigued by. 

Ever since that night, she had mostly been okay. Well, okay was an overstatement. She was getting by. She had Adam and Barbara around, her father and Delia seemed to continue business as usual, and she…. was doing fine. At least that’s what she wanted to believe. These remembrances in her subconscious state barely ever truly bothered her, but when they did, she was left with even more yearning for answers as to why everything happened. As to why she was the one to be married. 

Tonight however, the dreams seemed different.

 She was once again in that god-awful red tulle monstrosity that was her wedding dress, her hair done neatly, everything done to a tee. But something felt off. The room around her wasn’t her own. To be completely honest, she wasn’t sure where she was. And where was he? In all her other dreams, he was there, just ready to say their vows and be bound through and afterlife. But this time, he wasn’t. She was alone, sitting on some stiff black lacquer chair, veil over her pale face. Waiting. 

The ghost with the most had been sleazing around the old model for a few weeks, after all, Juno threw him back here. Stupid old hag. So far, he had been rather bored besides watching his lovely bride. Well, not exactly watching perse. Maybe he had been sneaking into her dreams and going along with the whole scene. After all,  if he was on house arrest, he had to at least try and find some action. Tonight though, he had a different thought in mind. He knew what he wanted from Lydia, and having some fun in her dream wouldn't be too bad. Then again he didn't care if it was good or bad. 

As Betelgeuse made his way into her dream he saw her there all dressed up sitting on the chair waiting. Perfect. With a snap ghost was no longer in his striped suit but his red velvet one. He lit a cigarette before making his way over to her, with a free hand he grabbed her chin and looked into her eyes. 

"Well, well, well... look at what we have here, nothin' but a little bitch waiting to get fucked. Dressed up all fer me?" He croaked, a deep raspy laugh leaving him. He ran his calloused thumb along her smooth red bottom lip.

The way she almost flinched away from him made him even more excited for what he had planned for his lovely little bride. "Now why don't we see what's under that little dress o’ yours..." he watched how she  tried to resist. He grabbed her.  “Hey, hey. No strugglin’ m’kay? It’s not like it’s gonna stop me, I’m seein’ either way.” he growled as he reached behind the petite girl, unzipping the dress rather quickly.

What he was greeted with was like heaven. "Fuck.. I knew you were a goth little bitch, but I didnt think yer bra would be black and lace." One of his large hands pawed at her breast and gave a small squeeze. "Maybe next time you shouldn't wear anything underneath, I'd like that a lot more, kid. Ya wanna be good now, dontcha?" 

Lydia saw her husband come out of one of the darkness that had practically engulfed her. Dressed in the same sort of red, a cigarette between his mossy lips. Immediately, she felt herself go rigid. Sure she had seen him before, but this display of such outward dominance surprised her. He seemed to be enjoying making a little show of this. 

Why did this all feel so real? Why couldn’t she wake up? She felt trapped, to be used in any way he pleased. She was only drawn from his thoughts when he spoke up, a deep chuckle leaving him. She was waiting for him it seemed, she couldn’t argue with that. As he ran his rough thumb against her lips, she jumped-unaccustomed to his chilled touch, before drawing in a small shaky breath. 

As he went for her dress, she instinctively moved away. Well, tried to, before she could do anything, he had grabbed her. His warning and grip made it very clear that she wasn’t getting away that easily. She gave in, thinking it was for the best. She couldn’t scream, she was easily much smaller than him, and if she was being truly honest, she wasn’t sure what she wanted at the moment. Maybe this would help set her straight. 

She felt the dress fall away as he unzipped it, leaving her to contend with the cool air. She shivered, going to cover herself for modesty, but her own arms felt stuck, rigid against the chair. He groped at her bosom (despite her claims there was nothing there, he seemed to be enjoying it) and chastised her about her undergarments. She couldn’t say anything. It was then that she realized she couldn’t do much of anything, she was stuck here, with him, unable to fight off any advances. 

She obidiently and somewhat bashfully looked down, her own body giving in to arousal. She let him feel every bit of her, watching the cigar burn ceaselessly. She prayed that little ash wouldn’t end up on her almost nude body, as she knew those burns would hurt quite a bit. Even if this was a dream, she didn’t wanna tempt it. 

The way she tried to move made him excited, his pants becoming tighter as he watched her. Seeing her so helpless and tied up was almost like a dream. Oh wait it was a dream. He let his fingers carelessly trail her pale skin. That's when a thought came to his mind, he pulled the cigar out of his mouth before putting it near her collar bone almost carelessly yet he knew what he was doing. Slowly he pressed the gray part into her skin and held it there. He listened to the small whimpers that left her and let out a dark laugh. 

After leaving the cigar on her for a few minutes he pulled it away and looked at the nice mark he left on her. “Guess ya belong to me now ya little bitch.”  The ghost said before leaving another mark on her, then another before he finally was satisfied with what he did to her. This was only the beginning though. He threw the cigar aside then started to take off her black lace bra. “Would ya look at that, you actually have fucking tits. I think I heard ya complain about how small they are.” With a rough hand he grabbed one and gave it a rather hard squeeze before squeeze that small pink bud. He watched the way her body moved for him. 

“You fuckin’ little slut. Look at ya already wantin’ more.” With another rough movement he yanked her black lace panties down. “Would ya look at that, this little thing is already wet.” He said holding the panties up to his nose. “Mmm ya can even smell it.” He threw them down before kneeling down and spreading her legs. “Already dripping for me too huh?” 

  He let his grimy fingers rub against that one little sensitive spot, a grin on his face. The look in his eye was almost predatory as he started to rub her a bit more rough, he couldn't be gentle with his little bitch. 

As she saw the cigar inch closer to her unblemished skin, she tried so hard to squirm away. She wanted to protest, to yell in pain as she felt the hot ash burn upon her skin, but no shriek or cry came, only a soft whimper. Her eyebrows creased and she bit her lip so much so that she was sure she tasted blood. His comment made her want to snap back, yet she couldn’t. She couldn’t deny the fact that she was his, after all, the gilded black wedding band on her ring finger proved that much. 

He left one more mark, making her arch towards him (or some lame attempt to) to try and stop the pain. With one careless flick, the cigar was on the floor, and she was left, laid out like a meal for him. He stripped her of her lacy bra, making her want to cover up almost immediately. As he grabbed her bare chest now, she was beside herself, a mix of pleasure and pain. At long last, she could at least make some sounds. Another small moan came from her pursed lips as he abused her nipples. She yearned for some relief. She needed him.

She noticed she gained a bit more control with her movements and voice as they went. And figuring he had some control over it, she let him take the lead, with his degrading compliments- a paradox at it’s finest, his smug grin, and his predatory look, she decided it was all for the best. 

She flushed at his accusation, yet she couldn’t deny it. She knew that she was aroused as ever, and that she needed some satisfaction or she’d wake up hot and bothered, so at long last, she surrendered her dignity to him. He took her panties and took in her scent (something she would normally question, but she let him take the lead.) before making those little comments of how clear it was that she wanted him. Once again, it was something she couldn’t deny. 

As he rubbed her clit gently, she groaned in pleasure and soon found her voice “Beetlejuice…” she murmured, arching towards him, as he started to get a bit more aggressive with his ministrations, she tried to comprehend her feelings. She had to admit, she was mostly new to this ordeal, and she craved more of him. She knew that much. She spread her legs more for him, wanting whatever he could give her in the heat of the moment. 

Those grimey fingers tried to spread her open more as he took in the sight, he found her absolutely delicious. How tight he could tell she was, the semi-new soft patch of raven hair that grew down there gave away the fact that she hadn’t even let the thought of doing anything come to her. He licked his lips finding his lovely little bride hot as hell. Once again his grimey finger barely pushed into the small tight hole and he felt her clench around it. “Look at ya, so tight and new to this. Don’t worry babes, I'll change that for ya.” Without another word he shoved in three fingers and felt her clench up once again. Yet he continued to push them in until he couldn't anymore. 

“Now be a good little slut like I know ya can be  and don’t clench, or Ill make this painful as fuck for you. Then again that wouldn't be so bad, havin, ya a cryin’ and beggin’ for me to stop.” He let out a small dark laugh as he moved his finger in and out in a rather rough motion. Maybe he should have gone into her dream sooner, this was amazing. He loved his little Lydia unable to do anything to stop him. Nothing could stop him. 

“Maybe if you cum when I tell ya to I’ll actually give you something you want. Knowing your little virgin ass though you won't be able to do that.’’ He almost challenged as he curled his fingers and tried to overstimulate her in some way. He loved how warm she felt around his fingers, that's when he moved them in a certain way and hit that one little sweet spot. 

The ghost decided to add more to her pleasure, with his free hand he grabbed her breast once again and placed his mouth around her nipple. He bit down slightly hard before pulling as he let go. He repeated his action with her other breast, then switched between the two. The rough movement still continued with his fingers, his thumb moving to her clit and rubbing it. 

As he crammed a finger in, she grimaced in pain. She knew it would hurt, but she didn’t think it would be like this. She moaned ever so slightly as he started to try and stimulate her through the pain. Her hips jerked involuntarily at his rapid, rough movements. As he shoved two more into her, she yelped, feeling as if this was the worst pain she would ever experience. “It hurtsss” she blubbered, trying to move her hands to slow him down. But once again, she was stuck. 

As he got more heated, he pushed her further and further. His warning seemed to hold no joking manner so she tried to take it. She opened her eyes to see him leering at her. Something that intimidated her beyond belief. She only saw that look a few times, the wedding being the most memorable. She knew she was in for a whirlwind with this dream, so the least she could do would be trying to take it. 

She wanted to try to please him the best she could. That was new. She wanted to be good for him. Her small body had arousal building up more and more, burning in her abdomen. But as he hit that one spot, she cried out in pleasure, all of it getting to be too much for her. As he continued these movements, he went back to her breasts, suckling on them and nipping at them- the cool sensation making them harden quickly once again. She knew she was so close to hitting her own climax as she canted her hips against his hand. Her face contorted with pleasure as he overstimulated her waif-like body. 

And soon enough, just as she was about to hit her first high, head on, she was jolted awake. She groaned and sat up, feeling a bit of sweat pin her deep purple shirt in place. She was left with so many questions. Too many. Was he back? Was he coming for her? Was he angry? All of these answers she hoped she would get soon enough.

Just as it started to get good and he knew he would have his way with her, well in her dream, he was back to being the invisible ghost hiding in the corner. A pissed groan came from him as he clenched his fists. “Little fucking bitch.” He mutters to himself, annoyed as ever. He could have fucked her in her dream! With a sigh he pulled out one of his cigarettes and lit it before taking a long drag. 

Exactly!!

Sometimes, during meetings, it’s hard for Charles to keep a straight face because Beetlejuice is palming him and kissing at his neck.

He coworkers will occasionally hear him having to stifle a moan. It’s a rare occasion though.

One time he actually gave him a lap dance during an important meeting and Charles has to excuse himself because “he felt sick because of how hot it felt in the room.”

In reality, he went into the restroom and fucked BJ until he had trouble walking.

Coworkers wondered where he got hickies from, considering the entire office was in the conference room.

Delia, on the other hand?

The woman has no shame.

Well, she has a bit of shame and the knowledge to not get caught having sex in public again. Even if the other party is invisible.

She’ll sometimes bend over for Beetlejuice so she flashes him, either from the front or back.

One time she got caught at the grocery store with his hand up her skirt. It was interesting to explain.

Has once whipped a titty out for him in the produce isle