#no babe you felt hope because it slipped through to will because of how overt mike was being then you returned because he crushed it in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hoodoo12 · 5 years

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Hey! Do you have anything special featuring MusicalBJ?

I do! Thank you for asking! It’s a little specific, so I hope you like it: head canons about Beej finally getting to have sex with his fem s/o but finding out it’s their first time.

NSFW. Explicit language + explicit sexual content, so it’s below the cut!

Heavy petting? Yeah, been there, done that. But going all the way . . . that made you nervous. Curious and aroused, but nervous

If some of the hot and heavy playtime ended up inching closer to actual sex, Beetlejuice is all for it. If you’re turned on, breathing into his mouth and tugging at his clothes to both keep him close and get them off of him, he’s going to do the same to you, and you’ll be mostly naked before you know it

He can tell you’re turned on, of course. That petting has gotten him to third base, and he’s already felt how wet you were when he shoved a hand between your legs, inside your panties. Plus you’d rutted against him, trapping his hand between your thighs while he fingered you.

You’d returned the favor, pushing his trousers and ratty underwear off and stroking his cock. He’d stopped you before he came, however, telling you that he loved your hand, but he’d also love to feel your pussy, hint hint

Then, however, when you pull back because you’ve never actually had sex before, that’ll confuse the hell out of him.

“Come on, babes! Don’t leave me hanging! Blue balls are the worst!”

You blushed and apologized, and bashfully admit you thought tonight maybe you’d like to do more too. His eyes widen and he grins ear to ear. You notice an odd color pattern in his hair: some streaks of pale chartreuse throughout it and a deeper pink that originates near his scalp. You’ve surprised him, but he’s aroused.

But!

In the next breath, you drop your eyes and whisper that you’d never done anything like that before. The look of joy on Beetlejuice’s face crinkled into confusion.

“What? Never done that--oh!”

Once the light dawns that you’re a virgin and you want him to be your first, he is eager and smug and shy and worried all at once. His hair loses the color of surprise and almost glows with excitement. He promises to make it good for you, promises to go slow, promises you the moon.

It’s slow, it’s careful. He makes sure you’re fine and on board with everything each step of the way

All the care is juxtaposed, however, with the insane amount of dirty talk that he couples it with.

“Feel that finger, baby? How about two? That’s right, that’s good--feels nice, doesn’t it? It’s gonna be even better, with my cock slipping into your pussy. You’re so tight! It’s gonna be so good, baby, I’m gonna fill you up--”

You can’t help but continue to writhe under his hand. He latches on to a nipple, which makes you cry out, and even with a mouthful of tit he continues talking, his voice bouncing around the room.

“I want you to come on my hand. I want you to come and be so wet when I fuck you--”

With his fingers deep inside you and the meaty section of his palm pressing directly on your clit, you succumb to it. Your release bubbles up and you moan aloud, once more pinning his hand in place between your legs.

When you open your eyes, Beetlejuice is watching you with a smug grin. He can’t deny his own arousal, however; his hair is deep magenta now.

“So good,” he praised as you come back to earth. He gives you a moment to catch your breath, then asked if you’re ready?

You can’t help but lick your lips, still a bit apprehensive, then nod.

He gets to his knees to move between your legs. You watch him as he does; was his dick ever that big before? You’ve held it in your hands, you’ve had it in your mouth, but there’s no way it’ll fit down there, will it? Involuntarily you tense a little bit as he parts your thighs and supports himself above you.

Beetlejuice drags his finger through the wet on your pussy and strokes himself. He glances up at you, gives you a grin, and rocks forward.

The head of his cock slips into you. That’s not so bad. His fingers are much more than that--

--he continues moving, and you involuntarily suck in a breath and squeeze your eyes closed. There’s a burn, not unpleasant but more than you expected. You feel impaled, opened, split--

“That’s it baby, that’s it, gods this feels good, take a breath, baby, breathe for me--” Beetlejuice coos, his voice no longer thrown but hitching as he continues his smooth easing motion. Then he stops.

“You don’t have to, you don’t have to stop,” you stutter out, “it’s okay, I’m okay--”

“You sure are, baby,” he agrees. “I’m already all the way inside you.”

You forced your eyes open and found him face to face with you. If you hadn’t been concentrating solely on the pressure you’d been feeling and the fact that your lungs were begging for new air, you might have noticed his hips were pressed tightly against you.

“How’s that, babydoll?”

Now that you had a second to relax, the burn had disappeared. There wasn’t any overt pleasure, and you felt oddly full in your belly. Experimentally, you tightened yourself around him.

That felt better, but the effect on Beetlejuice was immediate.

“Fuck--take it easy, baby, or I’ll be done too soon!”

You grinned at the power you had, and squeezed your pussy again.

The sound that he makes during that is different than any you’d ever heard from him before: a deep, lingering groan that starts at the bottom of his lungs. You love it.

“Two can play at that game--”

He starts slow movements, and after you’re accustomed to it, you understand what all the fuss is about.

His cock is just right. The thrusting, the friction is divine. Sounds you’d never made before escape you. You grasp at his waist, his shoulders, any place you can hold to keep him close. Automatically your hips rise to meet his.

Pleasure originates in your gut and blossoms to another orgasm that is different but just as good as what his fingers or mouth can do to you. You can’t control how tightly you hold on to him through it.

Once again Beetlejuice gives you a moment to savor your orgasm, but before you catch your breath he picks up his pace. You’re loose and wet and urge him on with kisses pressed against the side of his head and locking your legs around his back. The quicker movements are just as good.

He buries his face into your neck and shoulder with a cry and only just manages to pull out before he comes into his own hand.

“Sorry, babe, didn’t know if you were ready for something like that,�� he pants, indicating the load of come smeared in his palm.

You offer him a handful of tissues to clean up.

You’re sated and your pussy feels tingly, and you can’t wait to do it again. And again, and again, and again . . .!

#beetlejuice #betelguese #musical Beetlejuice #s-m-u-t #ask #head canon #writing #fanfiction

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whiskynottea · 6 years

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An interruption in the 1st law of thermodynamics.

Previously, Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35

@theministerskat, thank you for being my awesome beta for this story!!

Chapter 36. Almond and Cherries

Spring break.

My last spring break as a teenager. The one in which my suspicion that adults can be just as ridiculous as teenagers was confirmed. And that they’re especially ridiculous when they think themselves funny.

Another silly bit of knowledge I also learned overt spring break was that adults - particularly my uncle - find young love adorable. And because of that, they think it’s quite funny to tease young lovers about it.

“Claire,” Lamb said from his spot in front of the bookshelf. He had been standing there for more than ten minutes, inspecting the books with a frown on his face, his index finger drumming against his chin. “Can you please get me the volumes on the Jacobite rebellion from my desk? Those ones, with the red leather cover,” he pointed towards his desk and my gaze followed his finger across the room, landing on the large hardcover tomes on his desk, their covers a deep burgundy, carved with black letters.

“That’s burgundy, not red,” I playfully snipped, then I rose from the couch, sighing. I walked to his desk, slipping my phone into my pocket just a second before I picked the books up in my hands.

“Well, look at that now,” Lamb said with a cocked eyebrow and a crooked smile. “I would swear that phone was glued to your hand!”

I shot him a glare before rolling my eyes. “Ha, ha, ha. What a funny uncle I have.”

Lamb chuckled at his own joke and extended a hand to take a volume from me. “Yer a lucky lass,” he said, his Scottish accent even worse than mine.

Remarks like that had become a staple in our interactions during spring break because, apparently, I was always texting, half my mind focused on Jamie. The fact that I took a new selfie every two minutes didn’t help with Lamb’s teasing much, but there was nothing I could do about it. Lamb just went on with his hilarious remarks and I thought my eyes would get stuck looking skywards from being rolled all the time.

My phone buzzed with hundreds of messages every day – and every night: the night texts being the reason I never let it out of my sight. Lamb’s teasing of me was bearable, but I couldn’t risk him accidentally reading Jamie’s texts about what he planned to do to me once he was back from Lallybroch. I, however, found myself scrolling up every night before sleeping, reading and rereading his texts, feeling an ache in my chest and a tightening low in my belly. It was like getting drunk on him. I usually fell asleep with a silly smile on my face and one of Jamie’s pictures on my phone’s screen.

Jamie’s pictures. In just a few days my phone was full of them, to an extent that proved detrimental to my phone’s free storage space.

Jamie in bed, with tousled hair and a sleepy smile.

Scot: Moooorning, Sassenach.

And then, after a long silence on my part because I was obviously still sleeping,

Scot: Wake up, babe! Don’t leave me alone!

The porridge Jamie had for breakfast – extremely similar to the one he had had the day before, but still worth sharing.

Scot: Breakfast! Have to eat fast, da waiting to leave for the distillery.

Jamie at the distillery, making a goofy face in front of the copper stills.

Scot: Hard working man, here. You like?

His distillery picture - every time at a different place of the distillery - came through at approximately the time I woke up.

Sassenach: Mmmm. Morning!

Another picture showing half the ceiling and half Jamie’s face, taken from a weird angle.

Sassenach: What’s this?

Scot: Da watching. Was the best I could do.

Jamie’s time at the distillery was the only part of the day when we didn’t text. Brian was serious about his son’s training concerning the family whisky, and Jamie soon realized that since he was going to be there, he better make it count. It would be a few hours later when another picture would arrive.

Jamie back home, grinning broadly to the camera next to Bran, his deerhound, patiently awaiting his favorite human to stop with the nonsense and play with him.

Scot: Back home!

Sassenach: Play-time?

Scot: Going to run up the hill, Sassenach. Train to keep up with the lack of swimming ☹️

Jamie with Bran again, the human feigning sleep, while the dog slept on his lap.

Scot: DEAD

Sassenach: Oh what a pity! You’re not coming back, then?

Scot: YOU WISH

Sassenach: In fact I’m not.

Scot: Can’t wait to kiss you again. To lick you, to touch you.

Sassenach: OMG CAN YOU STOP IT?

Scot: I’ve big plans for you when I get back. 😏

Sassenach: Have you now?

Scot: Wait and you’ll see. What are you doing?

Sassenach: Studying! Won’t YOU study??

Scot: Ffs

Jamie in his room, my notes and the book in front of him.

Scot: Not the same without you.

Sassenach: I know…

We’d study together then, usually until our eyes hurt and our yawns took the better of us. The last picture he always sent me was of him looking just as sleepy as the first picture of the day.

Jamie’s face covering the whole screen, sending me a goodnight kiss.

Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. He was everywhere, and yet I missed him insufferably much.

Apart from texting with Jamie - that took more time than one could imagine - my spring break was quiet, and I finally found time to catch up with Joe. It was unbelievable how the two of us were perfectly synchronized in finding love. And we both fell face first into that buzzing feeling that took hold of all our senses.

Two days before going back to school, Joe and I finally arranged to meet. We had so much to tell and texts seemed insufficient. I sent my morning selfie to Jamie, teasing him about staying at home to study while I went out. A series of angry emojis arrived seconds after my message was seen. After a bunch of hearts of all colours from me, he suggested we go to his favorite bakehouse, and I texted Joe with the address.

Sassenach: Are you sure you don’t want to be the one who’ll take me there for the first time?

Scot: Nah, Sassenach. It’s okay. If you like it we can go as many times as we want.

Scot: Try the cherry and almond tart!

I was getting dressed and didn’t reply. When I checked my phone again, I had two new messages.

Scot: Try the tart. Seriously.

Scot: It’s the beeeest. My fav.

Smiling, I texted back.

Sassenach: Okay! I’ll order your tart!

One hour later, I was sitting at a small cute table in the corner of the shop, a big piece of the cherry and almond tart in front of me, next to my cup of chai. I had three major subjects to discuss with Joe, and we jumped from one to the other several times every minute.

Jamie. Gail. Our exams.

I knew he was madly in love with Gail – actually the whole school knew, one glance at the two of them and everyone could see it – and my heart swelled when I heard him talking about her, his voice low and mellow, her name bringing a soft curve to his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. He got dreamy when he told me how they were spending their days, how they loved the same things, how her left cheek had this infinitesimally small dimple when she laughed. We talked about her family and her ideas, the way she saw the world – which had clearly affected Joe. Long gone was his cynical side, his absolute beliefs. He was softer somehow, his edges smoother.

“I certainly need to get to know her better! She sounds so awesome, Joe!”

“She is,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“We’re lucky, aren’t we?” I asked, beaming. “Who would imagine that Scotland would be this good. I got to meet the most amazing people - you included,” I smirked, and Joe smiled back.

“I know, LJ. Pretty awesome, ain’t it?” He then took on one of his teasing looks, and I knew I was in trouble. “Amazing people… Who would have guessed,” he said and I raised an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, I have a text here… somewhere...” he unlocked his phone, pretending to search for the text. “Saying ‘Jamie Fraser can go fuck himself’ or something along these lines?”

I scoffed and narrowed my eyes at him.

“And here we are now,” he continued, “With you unable to stop babbling about your dashing Highlander.”

“Well,” I shrugged. “He turned out to be a bit better than I thought.”

“A bit,” Joe smirked. “So did he fuck himself? Or did you help him with it?”

I burst out in laughter, feeling my cheeks burn crimson.

“Oh I see,” Joe said, winking at me.

The bastard.

After the enormous amount of time it took me to catch my breath, I decided the best I could do was to change the subject. “So,” I said. “Universities. Where will you apply? Do you still plan on going back to the US?”

“Hell yes! Scotland is great, lass,” he said winking at me – again –, “But we’re definitely going to the US, bae!”

“Where?” I asked smiling at the thought of studying in the US.

“New. York. City.” Joe said with a smug grin. “At least we hope so,” he added, sobering up a bit.

“That’s so cool! School of Medicine and…?” I trailed off, not knowing Gail’s goals.

“Silver School of Social Work, for Gail. She’ll be great, she’s made for it.” Joe took a big bite of his chocolate brownie. “And you?”

“Oxford University, both of us.” I said, proud of our choice. “I’ll miss you so much,” I added with a pout. “But it’s going to be so good, Joe!” Joe’s smile became broader, just a second before I heard an all too familiar voice, low and deep, coming from behind my ear.

“Oh yes. It’s going to be amazing, Joe.” I could hear the grin in his voice, but I couldn’t turn, my eyes wide looking at Joe. “Hello, babe,” Jamie said, and I felt his lips warm on the tender skin of my neck. He lingered a bit, breathing me in, and then moved away, making me long for more.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice high pitched with excitement.

“I told you I missed you,” Jamie answered, plopping himself down on the chair next to me.

I shook my head, taking his face in my hands. “You’re incredible.”

Jamie smiled and kissed me, and I lost myself in the sweet taste of his lips – or was that the dessert on my lips – and the heat that rose in my body - an effect Jamie always had on me when so close.

“Ahem.” Joe pretended to clear his throat before he laughed. We broke the kiss, smiling sheepishly.

“My cherry tart!” Jamie said, licking his lips as he reached for my fork. The last bite was still on my plate.

“So, what do you think you’re doing?” I asked, trying to hide the smile I felt springing up on my face.

“Eating my order?” He smiled smugly and I realized the reason he insisted on me ordering his favorite dessert. “At least ye left me a bite!”

“You fool,” I said, pinching his ribs.

Jamie swallowed and kissed me once more. His hand trailed up my thigh until it found mine on my lap and our fingers intertwined, finally in the right place. He told us that had taken the morning train from Inverness and came back – alone. His coach had called, asking him if he could at least be there for Sunday training and after the exemplary behavior he’d shown during the break, his dad allowed him to go. Ian and Jenny would return the next day. My mind ran so fast, thinking of the possibilities over and over.

Was Murtagh at home?

We left the bakehouse almost half an hour later, parting ways with Joe who was headed to meet Gail at the library.

“Finally,” Jamie breathed in my ear.

I shot him a knowing glance but he spoke before I could say anything.

“Dinna get me wrong, Sassenach, Joe is a verra fine lad and all, but I haven't seen ye in twelve days and tis making me crazy.”

“Crazy?” I asked. “Crazy, how?”

I found myself pushed into a close, my back flush on the rough stone, my lip taken hostage by Jamie's teeth.

“Crazy,” he said and our tongues collided, thirsty for each other. “Like,” He bit me lightly and his hand snuck under my coat, then under my sweater, until it was resting on my bare skin. Goosebumps rose in his fingers’ wake, and I didn’t know if they were from his cold hand or the heat of being touched. “That,” he concluded, one hand cupping my breast and the other my butt. Searching for connection, as much connection as possible. It was a need, a reaction necessary for survival and we couldn't but surrender to it.

“Oh God, Jamie.” His mouth left mine and he licked a trail down my neck, making me shiver.

“I want you,” he sighed. “I need you. I need to get my hands on you, on all of you, and feel your skin burn under my fingers and feel your breath come faster in my mouth. Ye wear,” he said, squeezing my butt, “too many bloody clothes, Sassenach.”

I moaned and laughed, and I opened my eyes, realizing where we were. People were passing by the close. Just a slight turn of their heads and they would see us. Burning.

“Jamie,” I stopped him, regretting it the moment I did it. “People are passing by right next to us.”

He opened his eyes and looked around, as if taking the place in for the first time. He took his hands off me with great difficulty, leaning his forehead against mine. “Ye’ll be the death of me,” he whispered, a small lopsided smile on his face. He breathed twice; full, deep breaths. “Claire,” he said then, his thumb running on my cheek, and he moved a strong arm to envelope me in his warmth. My body responded immediately, my hand coming to rest over his heart, feeling it pounding. “My training is tomorrow and Murtagh is in Glasgow. He will be there for at least four more hours. Come home with me.”

I felt my body melting into his, flesh igniting, our hearts beating to a rhythm that was ours alone. I nodded and kissed his soft smile; a kiss that tasted like almond, cherries, and happiness. Jamie took my hand and led me back to the main street, and I wondered if I could walk all the way to his house, my breath already coming short and shallow. Burning with love.

Chapter 37

#thermodynamics #The first law of thermodynamics #high school AU #jamie x claire #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction

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