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Christmas is supposed to be joyful, exciting, thrilling, probably more. But for retail workers, it’s basically a scheduled hell.
Maybe you should have listened when Beetlejuice begged you to quit your job, telling you Charles and Delia earned plenty. But, stubborn as you were, declined every offer, stating you could handle yourself.
Oh, how you regretted those very words.
Even now, sitting with the Maitlands, no comfort is brought to you. Your book grew bland early on, and each word is just blending together at this point. The romantic movie playing on the screen seems so dry and utterly boring.
The only thing keeping you mildly interested is the cold, recognizable presence underneath you. You could get up and find something to do, but then you’d have to surrender the softness of Beej’s arms around your waist. There’s no way anybody would give up that, especially you.
Lazily placing your book down on the table (yet still with care, as the table is glass and you paid $35 for the nice hard-cover version of the book), you direct your eyes to Beetlejuice. He looks just as bored, if not more, than you look. But your heart gives a flutter as he perks up at your sudden attention to his existence.
No words are exchanged yet, but you sink down a little further into his embrace, awkwardly curling your arm around his to entwine your fingers. He eagerly squeezes your hand, maybe a bit too hard, but the gesture is appreciated nonetheless.
You tilt your head up to him like a budding flower, a gentle smile forming on your lips.
“Hi,” is all you manage to whisper out, flushing slightly as he brings your connected hands up to his cheek to nuzzle against them.
“Hi, babes.” He responds, almost automatically. Months later, and the nickname still makes you feel like jelly. You can tell he’s enjoying the moment as much as you are, as his hair is growing a more vibrant pink each minute.
“We should get out of here,” you suggest quietly, raising your eyebrows at him as a cheeky smile forms on your lips. “I think I know a better way to occupy ourselves.”
You keep your voice low, as to not alert the Maitlands, but the mischievous look on Beetlejuice’s face, along with the slight vibrating, isn’t helping your case.
“Oh, babes..” He mutters, lightly burying his face into your hair. “Say less.”
A yelp nearly escapes from your throat as he makes a move to dip down into your neck, but you hurriedly stop him, sending a firm glance over to the ghostly couple only a few seats away from the both of you.
“Let me make up an excuse first!” You stumble, but your embarrassment quickly turns to amusement as he lets out a silent, yet ever so dramatic, moan. Slapping his chest playfully, your heart warms once again at the antics of your demon.
* * *
After a pathetic excuse, and a bit of awkward apologies, you and Beej finally are able to escape to the comfort of your (shared) bedroom. As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s on you like a hellhound, pressing messy kisses to your throat like there’s no tomorrow.
But through the desire coursing through your veins, a slight bit of panic fills you. He’s been rough before (it is, in fact, your preferred method), but this time just feels… Too fast. Too rough.
“Wait, Beej, wait-“ Your panicked words don’t seem to get through to him, as he only growls before tugging you slightly closer. That’s what you get, you suppose, for tempting him and leaving him hanging.
“Sandworm- Sandworm!”
Everything goes completely silent after you speak, and Beetlejuice is off you like a bullet, staring down at you with concern. The only other time you had ever said your safe word was you and Beej’s first time together. In fact, it probably left your lips over twenty times. But after the initial nervousness, you’ve always been in afraid and willing.
Until today.
“Babes, babes, hey, look at me.” He repeats your name many times, both hands cupping your cheeks as he gently pulls your face upwards. “You okay? Should I stop? Chuck bought popcorn, I can bring some with that princess movie you like-“
You cut him off, hands coming up to cover his. “I.. I’m okay, Beej, I just…”
A frustrated sigh escapes you. You feel bad asking, as you know his preferred type of sex is fast and passionate, rough and wild. But that just feels wrong right now. What you would really like is a bit of vanilla. Something on the softer side.
“Do you think… Do you think we can take things a little slower this time? I don’t feel like anything rough today.” The words leave you with a decent amount of confidence, and it feels a bit nice to set some boundaries. Although, you know if you even expressed the tiniest amount of dislike for the way he treats you in bed, he would stop completely.
His face turns to one of recognition, before swiftly forming back into one of mischief. A small part of you is relieved. He doesn’t seem at all turned off at the fact you want gentle sex.
“Babes, I’ll take this real slow..”
You shiver. Maybe you and him have different definitions of ‘Vanilla’, but you aren’t complaining in the slightest.
His hands run down your sides, curling at the edges of your sweater and slowly tugging it upwards. You raise your arms, gingerly helping him as he begins to undress you. Slowly. Just as you requested.
But as each article of clothing is stripped off your body, you can tell he’s becoming impatient. What a day to wear more layers than you ever have in your life. Eventually, to Beej’s delight, you’re only wearing underclothes. A comfy bra, with matching panties. At least you know he won’t rip them off you this time.
He presses himself closer, guiding you to the bed, before your legs hit the mattress, and you lay yourself down. Beetlejuice follows suit, hurriedly shedding his jacket and tossing it off somewhere in the room. He’s all too eager to pull your panties down your legs, and admire your glistening slit.
A small wave of humiliation comes over you as he simply stares, an unmistakable hunger behind his eyes. But instead of diving right in, he approaches cautiously.
Kisses are pressed gently to your thighs, and as he comes up to your pussy, they grow into soft pecks.
He introduces his mouth slowly, pressing a kiss to the top before gently swirling his tongue around, making a sigh escape you. It’s certainly not as intense as other times he’s eaten you out, but it feels just as good.
Every stroke and glide of his tongue brings a new sensation, and you find the speed of it truly lets you absorb the feelings. You reach your hands down to his scalp, and carefully pet the bright pink hair sprouting from it. A moan leaves him, and the vibration of it makes you shudder.
Your orgasm reaches you swiftly, but it’s so unbelievably gentle. Quiet moans leave your lips, back arching and hips shuttering as he softly coaxes you through your peak.
Gods, it feels good.
So sinfully good.
You never even noticed the absence of his clothes, too lost in the pleasure that it simply didn’t register in your brain. “Beej- Beej, please, oh God, please…”
Pitiful begs escape you, and he chuckles darkly, bringing himself down and pressing his body against yours. The pressure feels new, but you welcome it quickly. His tip is teasing your entrance, pressed against it ever so lightly.
He looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Colour?”
A groan leaves you. Now? Of all times?
”Motherfucker.. Green! So fucking green…”
As soon as the colour registered in his mind, he started to push.
Your mind goes blank as he slowly presses inside you, the wonderful friction against your walls leaving you breathless. The pace allows you to truly savour him, feel how he fills you up perfectly.
Melting into the sheets, you absentmindedly move your hips, trying to make him bottom out faster. He growls at your actions, pressing slightly harder as his hips come flush against yours.
Your eyes roll back into your head. Full. So perfectly full.
But he doesn’t instantly start moving, like you expect him to do. Instead, he gently grinds his hips into yours, pushing his cock deeper than you thought possible. Your eyes close in ecstasy.
Whimpers leave your throat, and you squirm pathetically underneath him. It feels so much nicer than any rough sex you’ve had, the slow movements of his dick as he grinds into you makes your heart nearly stop.
His lips softly caress the skin on your shoulder, leaving no marks, only sweet pecks.
You’ve never felt more aroused.
Arms going around him, you desperately tug him closer, noting how he’s started to move, but with extreme care.
If you had the will to open your eyes, you would see that Beej looks to be enjoying it just as much. A calm, sort of fucked-out bliss fills his features, and he groans whenever you clench around his gentle movements.
”Fuck, fuckfuckfuck-“ You swear, your orgasm approaching much faster than you wanted it to. “Beej, I’m gonna cum, don’t stop… Fuck! Don’t stop!”
Indistinct pleas escape you, and Beetlejuice groans at your begging, pressing his body closer to yours.
”F- Fill me up… Please-“ You gasp, legs shakily coming around him to ensure he doesn’t pull out. His warm seed filling you to the brim sounds absolutely incredible at the moment.
”Oh.. Babes..” He moans, lips still pressed against the crook of your neck. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure you’re- shit, nice and full..”
You whine at the promise, and his words are what finally send you over the edge, shaking and moaning out in pure ecstasy. It isn’t long before you feel him shooting into you, sighing in contentment at your little mewls.
Even after the intense orgasm you had, you don’t feel as worn out as you usually do. Instead, as he pulls out, you feel a warm, sort of fuzzy-like satisfaction. Your pussy doesn’t feel like it’s going to be sore for days, and your limbs don’t ache from being in odd positions. You just feel… Safe, cozy, happy.
He quickly wraps his arms around your frame, and you curl into him all too willingly. God, that might have been the best sex you’ve ever had.
His head dips down into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you softly. He lazily raises his hand, and with a snap of his fingers, your pussy is cleared of any evidence of the act, and the two of you are both in soft, striped pyjama pants (no tops - obviously.)
Closing your eyes, a quiet sigh falls out of your lips. “I love you, Beej.”
You can feel his grin against your skin, and he lifts his head up to press a gentle, short kiss to your lips.
”Love you too, babes.”