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musical-shit-show · 7 months

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dancing is a dangerous game

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #2 (“apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”) from Prompt List 1 and #15 (“would you ever consider going on a date with me?”) from Prompt List 2 requested by @animetattoochick

Warnings: mentions of drinking, strong language, suggestive dialogue, anxiety, mutual pining

Word Count: 2,305

Author's Note: We’re back baby! Thank you so much to @animetattoochick for this request and so sorry for the delay. I’m working through my other requests now and have more time this coming month to catch up. And very fitting since it’s spooky season and I have some more BJ requests in the pipeline ;) As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you’d like to submit a request! Happy reading!

“Do you want to go? I feel like it’s getting a bit crowded in here and the door’s right there—”

“Are you drunk?” Dewey asked incredulously, “We just got here!”

You groaned, wishing you were more drunk than you were. Dewey had a natural charm that allowed him to get away with way too much, including convincing you to go out. This time, it was a birthday party for one of Ned’s friends, and the degrees of separation barely warranted you being there.

The party was in the back room of the Roadhouse, and you nodded at some familiar faces as you still tried to formulate an escape plan. You weren’t the biggest partier, and would much rather be hanging out with your best friend on his couch.

You didn’t know when you first became friends with Dewey. You occasionally moonlighted as a substitute teacher, and after a few instances of bumping into Ned, he introduced you to his girlfriend, Patty, and Dewey.

The rest was history.

And although he was one of the only people you could truly rely on, you still found yourself cursing him for pushing you out of your comfort zone.

“Come on, I thought you liked the Roadhouse,” he egged, noticing your arms crossed over your chest in protest, “And they’re actually taking requests tonight! Maybe they’ll play some of that pop bullshit you like.”

Your mouth fell open slightly, then lilted upwards in an indignant smile. Dewey was also a master of getting under your skin.

“Excuse me, Finn,” you responded, “Just because you listen to metal and classic rock 24/7 doesn’t make your music taste any more superior to mine.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” he joked, pressing the bottle of beer he was nursing to his lips.

You scanned the room, and relaxed your shoulders as you noticed some familiar faces. Dewey was always the more adventurous one, the one who lit up a room. You didn’t mind fading into the background.

“I’ll uh, go find Patty,” you said, and Dewey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really thought you’d put up more of a fight, “I’ll stay. For now. If you buy me a drink.”

He flashed a toothy smile, glad he could keep you around for a little while longer. “A fair trade. I’ll get right on it.” He gave a small salute, causing you to break into a grin of your own.

You made your way over to the other side of the bar to greet Patty, who was furrowing her brow at her phone. Never a good sign with her.

“Hey!”

“Hey, sorry, just finishing up this email,” she droned, rolling her eyes.

“Work?” She nodded wordlessly, and after a few silent moments, she locked her phone with a click and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…” she affirmed, rubbing her temples. You sat down at a stool next to her.

“Hey, well, at least it’s done, right?”

“Right, and I don’t have to think about the mayor’s schedule for another 48 hours, so I’m gonna get wasted,” you laughed at her directness as Ned sat on the other side of her, “You in?”

“Oh, uh, maybe?” you were still on the fence about staying too late, and the thought of a hangover did not sound enticing. “Dewey’s grabbing me a drink now, so—”

“Ugh, Dewey,” Patty said, earning an eye roll from Ned. You guessed he wasn’t thrilled about his best friend and girlfriend constantly warring, “When are you two going to hook up already, anyways?”

Your felt your face get hot with blush at the question. You and Dewey? The thought hadn’t crossed your mind. Not for a while, that is.

“What?”

“Oh my god, you’ve already hooked up, haven’t you?” she said, pulling you closer. You could feel sweat forming on the back of your neck, “Tell me everything.”

“Patty—”

“Ned, I swear to god—”

“No!” you said over their bickering, “I mean, sorry, no. Dewey and I, we’re not, I mean, we’re just friends.”

Patty looked at Ned, who quirked an eyebrow. Suddenly you felt very out of the loop.

“Does he know that?” she asked, a devious smirk spread across her face. You loved Patty, but sometimes her gossiping was beyond dangerous.

Before you could answer, Dewey arrived, a drink in each hand. “Jack and Coke, per usual,” he smiled, handing you the glass. You grabbed it, and immediately took a long swig.

“Whoa, killer, slow your roll,” he laughed. Patty and Ned both shifted on their stools. Dewey eyed the three of you suspiciously, “Why do I feel like I missed something?”

“Don’t worry about it, Dew,” Ned replied. For all of his nervous tendencies, he was pretty good at deflecting, “Wanna play some pool?”

You breathed a small sigh of relief as the two men headed towards the billiards tables, leaving you to finish off your drink and work quickly to order another.

***

“Why do you think me and Dewey hooked up?” you asked Patty, several hours and drinks later. Though you hadn’t crossed the threshold into full drunkenness, you were just tipsy enough to gain some courage.

She sighed, twirling the straw in her gin and tonic. “Because, my love, I see the way he looks at you,” she said, not an ounce of irony or sarcasm in her voice, “And don’t act like you don’t spend every waking moment together—”

“Because we’re friends!” you shot back defensively, “I mean, I’ve never even…I didn’t think he’d like me that way.”

Patty quirked an eyebrow. “Well, do you like him that way?”

A pit formed in your stomach almost instantly as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. The alcohol in your veins was making you particularly honest.

“I guess, I don’t know…yes. I think. It’s complicated, okay?” you finally spat out, your voice hushed in fear that someone else would hear you, “He’s my best friend, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have so…I never did anything about it.”

For once, she shot you an empathetic look. Her and Dewey were reluctant roommates on the best of days, but even she was heartened by your babbling. “Well, no time but the present,” she said with a smirk.

Patty grabbed your shoulders to turn you ninety degrees, and you saw Dewey standing next to Ned, also a few beers in and clearly having a good time. You gulped, a slower pop song blaring in your ears as the weathered disco ball spun languidly.

“Move along now,” Patty taunted in your ear, “Ned and I have a little bet going about you two.”

“What?!”

“Just for fun,” she said, giving you a little nudge forward, “we have to entertain ourselves somehow, don’t we?”

You walked away from her, and before you had time to think, you heard yourself asking “Wanna dance?” to Dewey, who looked genuinely surprised by your proposition. Ned snuck off without a word, leaving the two of you alone.

A small smirk played on Dewey’s face as the two of you stepped towards the dance floor; there were several other couples dancing near you, and despite your liquid courage, you were praying you wouldn’t be the center of attention.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as you placed your arms around his neck. It wasn’t like you and Dewey had never danced with each other before; he always had a way of dragging you to the dance floor when one of his favorite classics was played.

But now, you were acutely aware of the way his hands rested on your hips, and how your breath smelled like vodka, and the thin veil of sweat that was making his usually unruly hair stick to his forehead.

“Oh, come on,” he teased, his eyes flickering to your stance, “I think we can do better than the ‘leave room for Jesus’ bullshit, don’t you?” You laughed, realizing how far you were standing from him. It was as if you had been transported back to your 8th grade school dance.

Dewey grabbed one of your hands and laced his fingers with your own. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as he pulled your body flush to his, while his other palm gripped your waist tightly.

“That’s better,” he smiled, giving you another once over. Clearly the booze had made him more daring as well. You grinned back, doing your best to hide your newfound nerves.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know, I’m just having a good night,” he shrugged, the two of you swaying in sync as the song continued, “You should try it sometime.”

Your mouth fell open slightly at his jab, “Hey, I’m the one who asked you to dance, remember?” you fired back, “Or are you drunker than I thought?” He shook his head in denial. “Quick,” you mocked, removing your hand from his and flashing three digits, “How many fingers am I holding up?” Dewey barked a laugh, gently grabbing your hand again. You smiled nervously at the gesture, your heart beating faster in your chest.

“Why did you ask me, by the way?” his voice uncharacteristically soft, “Not that I mind, but you know I’m used to more headbanging while I dance.”

You smiled, glancing over at Patty and Ned. They were watching you intently, drinks in hand. Of course.

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together,” you tried to say nonchalantly, “Or more accurately, that we’ll sleep together. Or, have slept together. I don’t know—”

“Breathe,” Dewey stopped you, “It was Patty, wasn’t it?” You nodded sheepishly, and he shook his head in disbelief, “I swear that woman knows exactly how to drive me insane…I told her nothing is going on between us.” You couldn’t help but notice that his voice had a slight tinge of sadness.

Now was your chance. You said a silent prayer that your nerves wouldn’t get the best of you.

“I mean…it’s not that crazy of an idea, is it?” you probed, doing your best to not shift your eye contact away from Dewey’s brown ones, “We do spend a ton of time together…honestly thinking about it, I kinda get why everyone thinks we’ve…”

Dewey’s eyes widened in mild surprise as you trailed off, the implication clearly hanging in the air. He never would’ve thought he’d be the cautious one when it came to this topic.

“Yeah, sure,” he conceded, “But wouldn’t that, ya know…change things?”

He always had feelings for you, but he didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. You were too important to him, and an amazing friend, so he had silently resigned himself to hold those feelings close to his chest.

You swallowed your fear and shoved it down your throat. “Of course,” you became acutely aware of your palms growing sweatier by the second and hoped he didn’t notice, “But is it bad that I don’t care? Maybe we could give it a try. It could be good. Really good, even.”

“Goddamn, what has gotten into you tonight?” he threw your own question back at you as you felt your face getting flush.

“Maybe I don’t want to be a wuss anymore,” you smiled, “You should take notes, Finn.” He barked a laugh at your teasing.

Your stomach flipped as a completely new expression came over Dewey’s face. Well, at least completely new to you; who knows how he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention.

But you could tell from the way he eyed you that something finally shifted. “So,” he said coyly, “Since I’m a gentleman, I’m just going to make sure I do this the right way: Would you ever consider going on a date with me?”

Before you could answer, he spun you around and dipped you playfully, a giggle bubbling out of you as the song came to a close.

“Duh, you idiot,” you laughed, heart swelling in your chest now that the pent-up feelings you held onto for years were finally released. How could you have missed what was right in front of you for so long? You were almost embarrassed that Patty had to spell it out for you.

“Or maybe we could skip the date and go back to your place instead?” Dewey couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow suggestively. He certainly didn’t wait to start the blatant flirting, and you weren’t exactly complaining.

Still, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Why, so you can avoid Patty for the rest of the night?”

“…Maybe.”

“No.”

“Can you blame me? She’s a nightmare.”

“She’s fine, Dew,” you said as you both walked away from the dance floor, “And you have to admit, she clocked us pretty well.”

“I am not drunk enough to pay that woman a compliment,” he retorted, crossing his arms across his chest. You knew he was only partially kidding but still laughed anyways, “And she wasn’t right about everything. We haven’t hooked up. Again, we can definitely change that—”

“Don’t make me punch you, Finn,” you threatened, a playful smile dancing on your lips. You couldn’t believe how easily you both slipped into casual flirting; then again, you wondered if you had always been doing it without even realizing.

It was clear everyone else noticed, not that it mattered anymore.

“Kidding,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “Kind of.”

“How about this,” you proposed, reaching the bar again. Luckily none of your friends were around to grill you just yet, “You buy me another drink, we dance some more, and see where the night takes us?”

Dewey’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal.”

*****

Thanks for reading! Like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed :)

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littledanette · 7 months

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so I was wondering

if I told you I'd finished writing Teacher's Pet (took me long enough, i know, lol)

...would you still be interested in reading it orrr??

for context - Teacher's pet part 1 here

#my writing #teacher's pet #alex brightman #dewey finn #school of rock musical #dewey finn x reader #beetlejuice the musical #broadway #beetlejuice x reader #dewey finn imagines #dewey finn x oc

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heknowshisherbs · 1 year

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alright, yes, i confess, i'm actually in love with dewey finn (NO!) yes indeed

pairing: musical!dewey finn x reader warnings: drinking (and getting sick after), cursing word count: 3,070 author's note: hey y'all! this was the first fic i posted on the og heknowshisherbs, so it only felt fitting that it's the first fic i post on the new blog. i'm getting back into the swing of things so please forgive me if the formatting on my first few posts is a little fucked. i hope you enjoy!

Y/N: bRIIANNAN briainanan RBIANNA gota teelll u sooemthing Dewey: ? Y/N: brianana in eeed you to ansnwer EM noW Dewey: …U do know ur texting Dewey right? Y/N: hOWEDYOKNOW THAT whaxts im mltkaing abouyt Dewey: Y/N I have no idea what ur saying Y/N: nreedsu oyu toknow that il ove dwey som mocuh. i wanna kissihis satupid faccw Dewey: Are you drunk? Y/N: onnlyly if oyuwo wants me roi 33343333333333…….;;.;.d.d' Dewey: I’m coming to get you.

That string of texts was the reason Dewey Finn found himself in his car, on his way to a dive bar, at 03:47. Y/N had tried to get him to come that night with her and her friend, Stella, but he told her he was working on music which was half true. He did need to write some songs for the kids, but he mostly tried to avoid the bar because he didn’t want to be there when she inevitably went home with another random guy. As long as she was safe he was happy but it made him incredibly jealous and he didn’t feel like stewing at the bar all night, so he said he wouldn’t go. He hadn’t heard from Y/N at all up until he got those texts; he didn’t need to see her to know that this was probably the drunkest she’s ever been. She was always kind of a lightweight and even at her drunkest she was (for the most part) aware of her surroundings, but these texts made absolutely no sense. He was afraid someone would pick her up and just leave with her because she wouldn’t be able to defend herself or even say no.

When he pulled up to the Roadhouse it was still pretty packed, which wasn’t all that shocking for a Friday night. He arrived at the nick of time— someone was leaving. He immediately took their spot which, luckily, was right next to the door. He ran inside and started searching for Y/N, praying she was still there.

Calling out “Y/N!” elicited no response, but once Dewey finally found her it became clear that he got no response because she most likely didn't even know her own name. She was flopping around the bar, babbling nonsense to random people. Some humored her for a bit, while others ignored her; Dewey was just glad nobody had tried to take her home.

He gently reached out for her hand, and she almost toppled over after attempting to turn around. Y/N collapsed into his arms and looked up at him with a crooked smile, “Plleased to meeetcha!” Even blackout drunk, he thought she looked radiant.

“Come on, Y/N, we’re going home, okay?” He tries to lead her towards the door, but she messily snatched her hand away.

“‘M nOT going home with a sTRANGER!”

People started glancing over at him, and he began to panic; the last thing he needed was to get arrested while on his obligatory best friend wellness check, “Hey, hey, hey! It’s me okay, it’s Dewey.” Her face remained blank, she knew nothing but booze. “Dewdrop? Y/N, I promise I’m not kidnapping you, I’m just gonna put you to bed."

The word ‘bed’ seemed to help Y/N register what was happening, and she threw her arms up in triumph. “M geTIN LAID!” she cheered, which earned her confused looks from anyone within a seven foot radius. Maybe she didn’t register what was happening after all. Either way, it was enough to make her go with him willingly.

If anyone else had been working that night there is no way in hell Dewey would’ve been able to leave with her in that state, but their favorite bartender, Kara, was on and she knew that the pair were best buds. Dewey locked eyes with her to confirm that he was taking Y/N home. Kara just shook her head, shouted “good luck!” over the bar, and turned back to the customer she’d been talking to.

Dewey helped Y/N throw an arm around him so they could walk to his car, but they only made it about twenty feet before it became painfully clear that she couldn’t make it that far. He scooped her up and walked outside; she, all the while, was babbling about something Dewey couldn’t decipher. Her speech was so slurred at this point he wasn’t even sure there were actual words coming out of her mouth.

He gently laid her in the backseat and buckled her in as best he could. She’d started nodding off at this point, which was probably for the best. It worried him slightly because he wouldn’t be able to check if she was breathing for the whole ride home, but he laid her on her side and hoped that would be enough.

It was only a short ride to his apartment and, in that time, all he could do was pray she didn’t vomit until they made it inside. He lived on the third floor and knew there was no way in hell Y/N was making it up the stairs, even with help, so he had no choice but to carry her again. It was difficult to maneuver the narrow hallway and, while she didn’t feel all that heavy to him, he’d definitely gotten his workout for the next month out of the way.

He stumbled through the door, almost dropping Y/N in the process. He quickly got her upright, and before either of them had time to register what was happening, she’d vomited all over her dress and the floor.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Dewey really wanted to keep her in her clothes; they were best friends and she’d seen him in his underwear loads of times but this was different. Dewey gently sat her down on the ground before running into his room to rummage through his drawers and find a pair of pajama pants and an old shirt.

When he made it back to the kitchen, Y/N was passed out on the floor, and she’d thrown up again from the looks of it. He closed his eyes, let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and made his way over to her. Once he was sure she was still breathing, he tried to slip the dress off as gently as possible. It wasn’t too difficult to do, and once it was entirely off he was grateful she chose to wear that leather dress that always made his heart stop; as disgusting as it sounded, her vomit wasn’t able to seep through the fabric so her bra and panties remained clean. He felt much better about helping her change now, and it was only a matter of time before she donned Dewey’s slightly too big clothes.

He cleaned the mess, ran over her face with a wet rag to get any remaining vomit off, and sat on the floor with her for a moment to gather his thoughts. She looked so peaceful. He ran a hand through her hair and smiled to himself.

Dewey had loved her for a while, and he’d always wanted to tell her how he felt, but things just weren’t that simple. What they had going was good, he couldn’t let his feelings get in the way. He’d resorted to pining from afar and supporting her romantic endeavors endlessly, no matter how much it hurt.

“Nngh…” she mumbled a bit in her sleep, before her eyes slowly opened. “Don’t feel good. Doooooo not.”

“Are you gonna be sick again?”

“Mmmmm…. I dunno.”

'I dunno' was not a good enough answer for Dewey to consciously let her sleep in his bed. Even with a bucket next to her, there was no guarantee her aim would be spot on, and he didn’t want to take the chance. Cleaning your best friend's vomit off tile flooring was one thing, but cleaning a vomit soaked carpet was another thing; even Dewey Finn has limits.

He helped lead her to the bathroom and sat her next to the toilet, silently thanking whatever deity had given him the motivation to clean his bathroom that afternoon. Upon sitting down again, she immediately vomited, and all Dewey could do was sit behind her, hold her hair, and wish he could make her feel better.

After about an hour she’d finally stopped being sick, and an hour after that it was almost 08:00 and he could feel drowsiness overtaking him. She’d been asleep on his chest for quite some time and he hated moving her because he knew he’d never get this opportunity again. He bunched up a clean towel and put it on the floor for her to use as a pillow before leaving the bathroom. In an ideal world, he would’ve stayed with her but his bathroom room was far too small for that.

Then again, in an ideal world they’d be together.

He laid in bed for about ten minutes before he decided he’d feel better if he was closer to her in case she needed anything. He took a pillow and blanket, and laid himself down on the floor right outside the bathroom door and let the sound of Y/N's soft snoring lull him to sleep.

…

When Y/N woke up, her eyes were practically glued together with a layer of crust and makeup from the night before. Her head was pounding, and the first thing she did once her eyes were fully open is stick her head right back in the toilet and vomit. Once she's convinced there’s nothing more to puke up she disregarded any logic or sense of cleanliness and pressed her head against the cool toilet seat. It’s only then that the fog clears— just slightly, but enough for her to register where she is. She recognized the unusual, mismatched tiling on the floor to be Dewey’s, but had absolutely no idea how she ended up on the floor of his bathroom. He wasn’t even at the Roadhouse last night.

She wracks her brain for what could have possibly happened the night before but her mind is entirely blank. She remembered leaving her apartment, taking two shots, and then the rest of the night is a blur. How did she get to Dewey’s place? Did Stella drop her off? She noticed her phone sitting on the counter and shakily reached for it, hoping it could give her some answers. It was 14:37, and the only notification she had was an unanswered text from Stella, who asked where the hell she went last night. Evidently, she hadn't dropped Y/N off at Dewey's place. She quickly responded with “i’m fine, lyk later. puking” before checking her conversation with Dewey.

She couldn’t decipher a single text message she sent him, and from the looks of it, he’d been in the same boat. All she was able to gather is that she trying to reach Brianna; it wasn’t until she reached the jumbled message reading "il ove dwey som mocuh” that she realized what she’d done. This brought on a whole new wave of nausea and she quickly found herself, again, retching into the toilet.

She decided then and there she needed to leave as soon as she could. She was still a bit drunk so driving was definitely out of the question (she didn’t even know where the hell her car was), but she didn’t live too far and assuming she could stand up she just might be able to walk back home without Dewey ever knowing. She’d leave him a note. Using the edge of the bathtub for support, she shakily stood up. It took a while, and the nausea came back and slapped her in the face as soon as she did, but she remained standing without vomiting for a few moments. Y/N decided it would be okay to try to leave. She made a break for it and opened the door as carefully as she could hoping that Dewey wouldn’t hear it when all of a sudden-

“Ow!”

Y/N froze. Looking down from the crack in the door, she could see the top of Dewey’s head— he had been right outside the door all night. If her situation hadn’t been such shit, she’d have found it endearing, but right now all she was worried about was their inevitable confrontation and the potential concussion she just gave him. She slammed the door shut.

“Uh, I’m out of the way now if you wanna come out...” She wanted nothing more than to remain hidden in the bathroom but he knew she was awake, and there was nothing to do now but go out and face him.

Once the door was open, she finally got a good look at him. His hair is sticking out in more directions than she can count and the bags under his eyes are dark. Y/N can only imagine what he went through last night trying to get her here. He was wearing his favorite AC/DC shirt and sweats, which clued her into the fact that she wasn't wearing the dress you left home in last night. She fiddled with the fabric at the hem of the shirt before looking up at him “Dewey, did we-?”

She didn’t want to imply anything, but she had no other logical explanation for where her clothes could have gone. Her voice sounds gravelly and her throat feels like sandpaper but that’s something he’ll just have to get past.

Dewey's eyes widened in panic, and he ran a hand through his hair “No, no! God, no!” He nodded towards a plastic grocery bag tied up by the door, “You didn’t even know who I was when I picked you up, I would never… I was just gonna let you sleep it off in my bed but when we got here you threw up all over yourself. I-I didn’t see anything, I promise. I just couldn’t let you sit in your own puke all night… sorry.”

“No, oh my God, Dewey, don’t apologize!” Y/N felt awful, she must have put him through hell last night. Sure, he was her best friend, but that went far beyond what she’d ever have expected him to do for her, “I’m so sorry you were stuck dealing with me last night, you can literally pick the movie for every movie night we have ever again. I’ll help you clean up once my headache dies down a little.”

He smiled a little bit, “There’s nothing to clean up, it’s okay. You should eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I know, but you should still eat,” he made his way towards the fridge and took out a carton of orange juice, “You can have some of this and I’ll make you toast. I’ll make you more food if you’re hungry later but for now we should see if you can even keep that down.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “Thanks.”

As he’s getting the glasses for their orange juice, she felt her panic start to rise. She knew they needed to talk about the text, but he hadn’t brought it up.

The silence is deafening, and it all but consumes Y/N as she watches the orange juice fill the glass, and before she knows it, there’s toast in front of her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to even consider eating without vomiting until she got this over with. “ImsorryIdrunktextedyou.”

“’s okay,” he mumbled between bites of toast, “You could barely function as a human being, I didn’t really take anything you said to heart. I’m not entirely convinced you knew who I was. ‘M just glad you’re okay.” Dewey smiles up at her, eyes twinkling, and her heart melts.

“Dewey, I-”

“Y/N, I’m not kidding. Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re my best friend, I promise I didn’t take any of it seriously.” Dewey could all but hear his heart shatter, and he just prayed she couldn’t hear it too.

She bit her lip. Jesus fuck, she just wanted him to understand without having to say it out loud. “I um… I know you don’t think I knew what I was saying and uh... for the most part I didn’t, but that text, um, t-the text was um. I feel like that when I’m sober too.”

Y/N struggled getting her words out, and although she knew Dewey was trying his hardest to keep his reaction hidden, his nostrils flared. He never notices he’s doing it but she always did— it's a nervous tick of his. Normally it’s really cute, but right now it just made her want to curl up in a ball and never face him again. "N-Nothing has to change, it’s just… I don’t know. Fuck!”

With a loud groan, her head was in her hands, blocking out the light (and Dewey), “I just. Don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

No response.

“D-Dewey? Are you gonna say something?”

“I-” he faltered and she prepared herself for the worst. “How long have you felt this way?”

“What?”

“Howlonghaveyoubeeninlovewithme?”

“O-Oh, uh… a year. M-Maybe longer.” Y/N finally looked up at him and he was just staring at her, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. She scooted herself away from the counter and mumbles a quick “thanks for taking care of me last night” before making her second break for the door.

She only got halfway through the kitchen before she was whipped around and found herself in Dewey’s arms. Shit. He was practically crushing her, and she genuinely couldn't tell if everything felt more intense because she was so hungover or if he was really using that much force. It was probably a bit of both.

“I love you too,” he mumbled into her hair.

Wait. What?

“Fuck, Y/N, I’ve loved you for so long and I thought I didn’t stand a chance. And then I got that text and I just— Jesus, when I got to the Roadhouse and saw how trashed you were I didn’t think there was any way you could’ve known what you were saying but… you mean it?”

She inhaled deeply, forehead still pressed into his chest, “Of course I do, you doofus. How could I not?”

He squeezed her just a little bit tighter before placing the gentlest of kisses on the top of her head, “I’m really glad you got drunk last night.”

She laughed quietly, a short huff of air out of her nose that warmed Dewey’s chest through his shirt, “Me too."

#school of rock #school of rock musical #dewey finn x reader #musical!dewey finn x reader

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hoodoo12 · 1 year

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Jobby

Seeing the tour sparked an idea . . .

NSFW, mostly PWP. Beetlejuice x Dewey Finn x gen neutral reader! Established throuple.

Both the Bman and Dewey are Collette-flavored.

Enjoy!

You’d gotten used to lots of loud noises in the apartment: guitar (played pretty well), drums (played poorly but with enthusiasm), video games of mostly the first-person shooter type, and the occasional “discussions” that were “passionate.” And snoring. All of that was a typical day in a household with a rocker who had a part time job as a teacher and a ghost who had a full time job (he said) as a bio-exorcist.

You had no idea what a bio-exorcist’s job actually entailed, since Beetlejuice mostly seemed to hang out at Dewey’s place.

But that was neither here nor there at the moment. Silence in the apartment didn’t necessarily mean peaceful, especially if the two of them were giving each other the old passive-aggressive ignoring each other like they were five year olds throwing a combined tantrum.

It could mean Dewey was asleep and Beetlejuice was leaving him alone, however. So instead of calling for either of them, you moved quietly from the door down the hallway, where it opened up into the living room.

Dewey was on the couch but most definitely not sleeping. On the floor in front of him, on his knees, kneeled the ghost. While Beetlejuice had discarded his jacket and his suspenders had been pushed off his shoulders, every other piece of his standard ensemble was present. Dewey’s t-shirt, however, was rucked high on his chest, all the way up to his collar bones. Even from across the room you could tell his nipples had had attention; they were darker than normal and still pebbled. His pants were turned inside out with his underwear caught inside; all of that mass of clothing happened to still be attached to one ankle.

Neither noticed you spying. Eyes closed, Dewey’s head tipped back to the cushion behind him. His free hand splayed on his own bare thigh, his fingers leaving indents in the flesh; the other had threaded into the mess of Beetlejuice’s hair. Beetlejuice himself had both arms under Dewey’s thighs, wrapped around his legs, hoisting his hips slightly upward. It was a position designed to give him better access; you knew that because the specter had wrapped you up in the same hold when he used his mouth on you. Dewey had managed to lift one leg over Beetlejuice’s shoulder. From past experience you also knew that was a common trick Dewey did to keep his lover close while being sucked off.

Soft wet sounds matched the smooth bobbing of Beetlejuice’s head. Dewey matched them with moans, a combination that could have been obscenely lewd if the two of them weren’t so obviously enjoying themselves.

To see Dewey, someone who hid his low self-esteem with a sour-grapes mentality like he didn’t actually care, simply allowing this to happen was a big step. Typically he’d insist on something mutual; his self-worth could be tied to making sure he gave, even if giving went against his own wants and needs. For him to sit back and relish the attention made you smile.

Minutely, Dewey relaxed. His hand gave a little push downward on Beetlejuice’s head, and the specter began blowing him again.

And for Beetlejuice, as crude and as demanding as the ghost could be, for him to be so attentive without immediate satisfaction was a big step forward too. From the flush that had bloomed on Dewey’s chest, he’d been going down on him for a while, not a speedy wham-bam-thank-you-man-now-it’s-my-turn kind of ambush. Slow and deliberate, his head moved steadily and you could only imagine the amount of spit that pooled under Dewey’s legs. At least they put a blanket down first.

It wasn’t often sex in the household was a twosome. Even if it started between just two, the third party would be welcomed in. You found that being able to watch, however, gave you vicarious arousal in the pit of your stomach. To see the Dewey and Beetlejuice so soft, so intimate, was a special treat. Even if your hand did wander down between your legs.

Dewey gasped a little louder and dropped his head. “Oh, I-I’m gonna come!” he said in a strained voice.

Beetlejuice paused at the top of his motion, giving Dewey a moment to collect himself. Although you were across the room, you knew the feeling of his cock throbbing in your mouth, seconds away from ejaculation. You knew that even though he stopped, Beetlejuice couldn’t hold completely still; his tongue was most likely flicking the head of the cock between his lips. You didn’t know if Dewey was so far gone that minor licking stimulation would be enough to send him over the edge--

fin--

You wasted the opportunity to step back, out of sight, during those seconds. Since you’d held your breath in anticipation and didn’t, when Dewey opened his eyes he saw you standing there.

Instead of acting embarrassed or ashamed they’d be caught, he stretched out the hand not tangled in Beetlejuice’s hair to you. Quickly, you crossed the room and settled beside him on the couch. Your arousal increased as though the carnal activity of the two of them fed you.

Beetlejuice’s eyes had been closed too, but at the shifting of the cushions he lifted them to yours. His typically smokey blue eyes were almost completely eclipsed by his pupils, showcasing his own lust as well. If you turned to look at Dewey, you knew his eyes would look the same. You’d marveled before how their eyes matched. But you couldn’t draw your gaze away from Beetlejuice; his lips formed a perfect seal around Dewey’s cock and, as you’d expected, his lower jaw and Dewey’s pubic hair were shiny and soaked with excess spit. As the specter continued with his eyes locked on yours, his cheeks hollowed and relaxed during various parts of his up-and-down cycle.

“He looks so good, sucking you off,” you said, reaching forward to push your hand through the the rat’s nest that was Beetlejuice’s hair as well.

“Mmm-hmm,” Dewey agreed. Apparently those four stuttered words he’d uttered were the last he could string together.

Beetlejuice hummed too. You’d have expected him to throw his voice or switch to a hand--not one holding Dewey’s legs, of course! Just a third hand from out of wherever!--on Dewey’s cock so he could answer you properly. He didn’t. For him to be so intently focused at the task at hand, er, in mouth made you smile at the two of them again.

You hadn’t meant to interrupt and didn’t want to distract. Still, you put your head down on Dewey’s chest, your ear over his heart, and watched. Beetlejuice didn’t drop his gaze, keeping it firmly on yours even as his pace increased. With Dewey’s heart rate matching the suck and pull at his cock, even though literally nothing was happening to you the sound in your ear and the ghost’s direct stare made your lower stomach and groin tingle. You wouldn’t have ever thought you had a voyeuristic bent, but you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

This time when Dewey announced he was going to come, Beetlejuice didn’t stop. Finally breaking eye contact with you, he took Dewey all the way to his balls and held there. If you’d had your hand under his jaw you were sure you’d have felt him still moving his tongue against the cock buried in his mouth, but you stayed as still as the other two.

After a moment when everything was completely still, Dewey groaned loudly as every muscle tensed. Beetlejuice remained frozen, you didn’t move, both of you allowing Dewey to enjoy his orgasm to the fullest. Only after he began to relax again did the specter gently back off his cock.

Shiny and throbbing in time with his heartbeat, Dewey’s cock fell back to his dripping pubic hair. Knowing he could be extra sensitive after he came, you made a mental note to get up to retrieve a tissue in a moment. Before then, you moved your hand from the side of Beetlejuice’s head and brought your fingers down along his jawline. It was slick with spit.

Beetlejuice grinned and kissed your palm, then made a show of wiping his beard in your hand.

“Gimme a kiss, baby? For a job well done?”

You leaned forward to give him his reward. Just before your lips met his, however, he said,

“I meant Dewey. But you’ll do.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him anyway, dipping your tongue between his lips to savor the earthy flavor combination of him and Dewey mixed together.

“I bet Dewey’ll kiss you if you get a Kleenex,” you suggested.

Beetlejuice sighed, “I have to do everything around here,” but there was no irritation behind it. He pushed away from the couch and went to find a box.

Splayed and mostly undressed, Dewey hadn’t opened his eyes yet. His cock had started becoming softer, with a thin line of post-climax come oozing from the tip.

“Gonna take a nap, Finn?”

“Sounds good,” he murmured.

“Well, clean up first and then you can snooze. I’ll wake you for dinner.”

Sleepily he asked, “Is it my birthday?”

“Nope. Just happy Dewey Finn day.”

He cracked open his eyelids just enough to see you, smiled and nodded.

nope

(that would be the end, except Beetlejuice overheard the whole, “happy Dewey Finn day” and shouts from the other room, “What about me?!” So you agree to take care of his “needs”--which is always the same thing, a little suck, a little fuck, a little desperate discussion as to if he should come inside you or on you--while Dewey naps. Then later in the evening, both of them ambush you and give you the best spiritual rogering you’ve ever had.)

#Beetlejuice #Dewey Finn #Beetlejuice x Dewey Finn #Beetlejuice x reader #Dewey Finn x reader #Beetlejuice x Dewey Finn x reader #School of Rock #writing #fanfiction

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yuckcuy · 2 months

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the BEST Dewey fic out there.

lawddddd

#dewey finn #school of rock #school of rock musical #alex brightman #justin collette #jack black #ao3 fanfic #meowwww #alex brightman x reader #dewey finn x reader #school of rock x reader #dewey finn x you

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floorbe · 2 years

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okay okay okay so i was thinking maybe beej/dew w artist reader??? if thats alright with you obvs

yessss hehe

Beetlejuice

-Lord save you bc he is going to be SO INVESTED

-Like breathing heavy down your neck watching you draw invested

-He honestly loves watching the process, if you’ll let him. It’s one of the only times he’ll quiet down bc he’s so into how you create

-Oh definitely expect the “draw me like your french girls” or equivalent jokes, with copious eyebrow waggling

-If you actually draw him??? Oh my god. Oh my GOD, babes, what!!!

-Stares at it for so long. He frames it. He hangs it on the wall. Puts it on the fridge. He puts a little “A++++” sticky note on it.

-Pink hair all the way, baby!

-“Damn babes, this how you see me? Sexy as hell.” his voice is wobbling and there’s a shine in his eyes, but he’ll deny it with his undead life

-You’ll catch him attempting his own drawings of you when he thinks you aren’t watching

Dewey Finn

-Another man who is invested in your process

-He thinks it’s so damn cool how you just.... make that?? You just make that. Wow

-If you draw him he is over the MOON. Huge grin, staring at for a long time, smothering you in kisses as a thank you, considering laminating it...

-If it’s small enough he’ll put it in his wallet to look at

-He’s either an artist himself or he draws stick figures. No in between

-No matter which one it is, he’ll return every and any drawing you give him with one of his own

-If you’re ever doubtful of your skills, this is the man to go to! Reassurance God

-You’ll be forgetting how you felt by the end of his support rave, which could last hours if you don’t stop him, honestly

-He likes fiddling on his instruments while you do your own art, quality time man

#i mayyyy be a little rusty for some of these characters guys be gentle #beetlejuice x reader #dewey finn x reader #beetlejuice imagines #beetlejuice scenarios #school of rock imagines #school of rock scenarios #Beetlejuice #school of rock #dewey finn

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nofoundboy · 2 years

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So I'll add these ones to my writing list but my phone has problems editing my posts so my actual list will be updated later 👀 requests are finally open again

You were right, sometimes you just have to do it yourself

Yup

👉👈

👉👈x2

I totally forgot about Spree and that's a crime 💀

Blorbo uwu

I just want good things for Will and honestly...who wouldn't?

Not nsfw with him obvs

Same with Jonathan. Byers boys need luv

Ah yes, the man of the hour

I don't know if I want to be him or to be with him

Same as Eddie. Attraction and gender envy are quite complicated

Not nsfw with him obvs

#beetlejuice x reader #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #dewey finn x reader #kurt kunkle x reader #billy chapman x reader #khonshu x reader #arthur harrow x reader #will byers x reader #jonathan byers x reader #eddie munson x reader #hunter sylvester x reader

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beetles-and-rock · 6 months

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One Shot Incoming

Now as anybody that follows me knows I take a million years to write fan-fiction, but you all have been very patient and I have a special little Dewey Finn x Female Reader one shot I've been working on for months now. I figure for the particular theme of this one shot, this is the perfect time of year to release it!

Here is my dilemma. It is a looooong one shot. It's essentially in 3-4 scenes or parts.

Because of my busy schedule this year, and the fact that the opening is almost finished I might be inclined to post the one shot in three parts. I may have a chance at posting all three this month or at least between now and Christmas.

What do you guys think?

#alex brightman #dewey finn x reader #dewey finn #school of rock #school of rock musical #school of rock broadway #school of rock bway #fanfic

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brightmonsterr · 1 year

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I WANNA START WRITING ON HERE PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR DEWEY FINN (MOVIE OR MUSICAL) OR BEETLEJUICE (PREFERABLY MUSICAL BUT MOVIE AND CARTOONS FINE TOO)

im fine w nsfw im not good at writing it though lmao but if you suggest it id prefer it to be female x male or gender neutral x male im not homophobic i just think its weird for a girl to write gay smut 😧

#beetlejuice x reader #dewey finn x reader #beetlejuice #beetlejuice bway #school of rock 2003 #school of rock the musical

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nuclear-static · 11 months

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REQUESTS!

I wanna start writing fics on here because I know I can write decently and I wanna have somewhere to share that! However. I lack motivation. So, it would be extremely appreciated if y'all could give me some requests! I write x reader fics the best, but I'll do other things like individual headcanons or the occasional ship if wanted. Also! I am perfectly comfortable with writing fluff, angst, smut, whatever. I'm okay with just about anything angst/smut wise. Anyways! Onto what fandoms I’ll write for! Anything bolded is a current hyperfixation, so I’m more likely to get to a request for that faster!

Musicals (Favorite!)

School of Rock

Beetlejuice

Newsies

Hamilton

Heathers

Movies/Shows!

Mary Poppins Returns (Listen I haven’t gotten around to watching the original yet- I mainly watched it for Lin/Jack)

Dear Evan Hansen

Bonnie and Clyde

Little Shop of Horrors

Marvel Universe (Mostly Avengers and Guardians of the Galaxy cause idk a lot about the others)

Stranger Things

Rick and Morty

Steven Universe

The End Of The F***ing World (Obscure but I loved it when I watched it)

Games!

Pretty much anything Disney but some I'd be better at are Aladdin (cause I was in it) and Tangled (cause I was obsessed with it)

SMASH

The Stanley Parable

Detroit: Become Human

Uhh probably other things

And there’s probably more than that which I just haven’t thought of, so if there’s something you’d like that isn’t there, just ask and I’ll let you know if I know enough about it to write for it! Btw, I’ll likely write better for fandoms I’m hyperfixated on, so I’d request those more. That and I’ll probably write them faster. So just keep that in mind. Alright, thank you, and farewell!!

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imagination-phantom · 3 months

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“There’s been one solution since the world began don’t just sit and take it stick it to the man! Rant and rave and scream and shout get all of your aggression out! They try to stop you let them know exactly where they all can go!”

And do it just as loudly as you can! STICK IT TO THE MAN!~

🤟❤️

Hm I feel like we’ve been here before lol

#my art #self love #self insert #doodle #school of rock #school of rock broadway #school of rock musical #dewey finn #dewey finn alex brightman #dewey finn x reader #dewey x reader #stick it to the man #alex brightman #scruffy #scruffy man #i’d die for him #the school of rock #school or rock the musical

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musical-shit-show · 11 months

Note

I loved your teacher!reader oneshot with dewey finn! I’d love to see more, maybe with #1 and #6 from prompt list 3 if you’d like?

no rules in breakable heaven

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Teacher!Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #1 (“i missed you, you idiot.”) and #6 (“i don’t care about them, i just want you.”) from Prompt List #3, spiritual sequel to close enough to touch

Warnings: anxiety, sexual references, fluff, dumbasses in mutual pining

Word Count: 2,299

Author’s Note: So sorry for the delay on this, sweet anon! I have been very busy with a show that I’m in, as well as just…not having a ton of inspiration for a bit. But I think this is a nice sequel to my first Dewey x Teacher!Reader one shot, so I hope you enjoy! As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists for any requests you’d like to make! I’m gonna be busier for next couple months, but will be working on requests and any other fics that spark my creativity. Thanks again to everyone who reads these silly little one shots, your support means the world!

You were never a rule breaker. It just wasn’t in your nature.

You never had a rebellious streak or disobeyed authority. Hell, you rarely ever talked back to your parents when you were younger.

But here you were, a full-grown adult sneaking around with the music tutor like you were lovestruck teenagers.

It had been a couple months since you and Dewey had started seeing each other in secret, and it was getting harder and harder to hide the truth from the rest of the staff at Horace Green.

Not only was Dewey constantly finding ways to visit your classroom or chat with you at lunch, you knew the other teachers were catching onto your incessant flirting whenever there was a development meeting or other afterschool function.

With the end of spring break, you knew it was only a matter of time until someone overheard you and Dewey in the hallways, and that would be the end of it. Gossip travels fast when the faculty is equal parts snooty and nosy.

On the last day before you were thrown back into teaching introductory poetry and essay structure, you waited for Dewey at your apartment, your knee bouncing nervously as the seconds ticked on. Not seeing him was starting to have an effect on you, which only made you feel more pathetic.

You and Dewey hadn’t exactly defined your relationship. Yes, you went out on dates, and hung out, and slept together, but you hadn’t had the talk. It made you feel juvenile just thinking about it, but how could you not?

You liked him, and you thought he liked you but…what if you were wrong? What if this was just something that filled his time? A meaningless fling? Dewey didn’t seem like the relationship type, despite the way you caught him looking at you.

Maybe sneaking around with the new teacher was just a way to add more excitement to his life. Not that you could really blame him. It was just as exciting for you, even if the thought of getting caught caused a wave of nausea to wash over you.

Your anxiety spiral was interrupted by a confident knock that rang in your ears.

Instantly, your heart jumped to your throat. Opening the door, you couldn’t help but light up as Dewey enveloped you in a bear hug, the scruff on his face tickling your neck.

“Hey there, stranger!” he boomed, his voice tired but giddy, “And here I thought you might’ve forgotten about me while I was gone.” He put you down, his scent lingering on you; he smelled like cinnamon, a noted change from his usual body spray.

You shook your head at his teasing. “I don’t think there’s anyone on this earth that could forget you, Dewey Finn,” the two of you laughed, and you noticed a familiar tinge of pink on his face. He still didn’t know how to be cool the minute you started flirting, which made you hopeful. How could someone blasé about a relationship blush every time a compliment or teasing remark was thrown their way?

The two of you sat down on the couch, your knees bumping against each other. “But seriously,” you said, feeling your hands start to sweat, “I missed you, you idiot.” He chuckled, draping his arm behind you.

“I missed you too,” he replied, “And remind me to never go on a road trip with Ned again. I love the guy, he’s my best friend. But God, he is not a ‘sleep-in-the-back-of-a-van-for-a-week’ type. Too high maintenance.” His tone was light, even as he complained.

An unspoken tension hung in the air, and even though you were both happy to see each other, you couldn’t help but sense that Dewey was uncharacteristically jittery. Why did you get the feeling there was something he wasn’t telling you?

“I told him about us, by the way,” he tacked on, a sheepish look falling across his face, “Ned, I mean. But don’t worry! The only people he talks to are me and Patty, and she’s, well, terrible and doesn’t have any friends so—”

“Dew,” you interrupted, before he jumped into a rant about how much he hated his best friend’s girlfriend, “It’s okay, I understand.” You wiped your palms on your jeans, finding the courage to jump into a potentially disastrous line of questioning.

“But uh, what did you tell him?” you could’ve had a heart attack right on the spot. “I mean, what did you say that I am to you, exactly?”

Now it was Dewey’s turn to take a ride on the Uncomfortable Express.

“Uh, well, that we’re seeing each other, ya know, enjoying each other’s company,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous tick you had picked up on over the past weeks. “And that you’re awesome and smart and I like you and…” He trailed off, his brown eyes flickering over your lips.

Without much warning he kissed you, slowly and tenderly. Your let out a small sigh as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him on the couch so you were practically in his lap.

Very smooth, Finn.

Not smooth enough to fully distract you from the conversation at hand, but he was certainly trying.

‘Seeing each other’? You guessed that was the best phrase for whatever it was you were doing, wasn’t it? Casual. Light. Fun. Easily ended if another, better prospect crossed his path.

The thought made you tense up, and Dewey noticed. He pulled away, delicately brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face. “Are you okay?” his eyes instinctively flickered down your frame and back up to meet your gaze, “If you don’t want, I mean, we don’t have to right now if—”

“Oh, no it’s not that,” you assured, patting him on the chest unconvincingly. Your eyes shot to your coffee table, which was strewn with papers. “I just…god I have to grade the kids’ essays before we get back to it tomorrow.”

Dewey was never the most perceptive guy on the planet, but even he noticed a shift in your demeanor. Before he had a chance to press you, an alarm blared on his phone, startling you both. He swiped it from his back pocket, his face flashing with panic.

“Shit,” he muttered, “Completely spaced, but uh, I have a private lesson I gotta teach in a half hour.” You inwardly thanked whatever higher power was intervening. You peeled yourself away from Dewey, your shoulders landing gently on the back cushion of your sofa.

He hopped up from the couch, quickly locating his wallet and keys. You got the feeling that he was secretly thankful for the interruption too. Not that you could blame him; if the roles were reversed, you’d want to get out of there as fast as possible too.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have…I’ll see around, okay?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Don’t you always?”

Dewey’s lip curled, and he gave you a small kiss on the cheek before bounding out your front door.

***

Not being a rule breaker did have its benefits. Years of following and listening had given you the tools to become an effective teacher. You loved your students and you loved teaching, and those two things made the long days go by just a little bit faster.

Before you knew it, it was nearly a week since you had seen Dewey; he had been suspiciously absent from your usual meet-up spots, and you felt your spirits droop with each passing day.

You couldn’t help but feel sour about that night, but you knew it wasn’t Dewey’s fault; even with all the security you had in the other aspects of your life, relationships were always your weak spot.

Who among us wasn’t terrified of rejection?

As the final bell of the school week rang out, you breathed another sigh of relief as your class clamored out the door. Your job was rewarding, yet tiring; the prospect of seeing Dewey in the halls would at least make your day more interesting.

As you peaked your head out of your classroom to watch dozens of children head towards the exit, your eye caught one of Dewey’s pupils.

“Katie!” you called, and watched the fifth grader whip her head around, her pigtails bouncing, “No School of Rock today?”

The girl shook her head. “Not today,” she called over the chatter, “Mr. Finn canceled.”

Your stomach twisted, and you slipped back into your classroom to collect everything you needed for that weekend. You figured Dewey wasn’t one for confrontation, but did he really cancel lessons with the kids to avoid you?

You didn’t think the conversation you had went that poorly, but the thought buried itself deep in your brain and refused to leave. Bag slung over your shoulder, you angrily pushed open the doors to the parking lot. Most of the other staff were leaving as well, with a few small groups of teachers chatting by their cars.

How could you have been such an idiot? At any point you could’ve been honest with Dewey, told him how you felt. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, it would’ve been better than the purgatory you were in now.

You stared down at your feet as you walked, running through the last time you saw Dewey over and over again in your head. Lost in your own personal shame spiral, a familiar voice snapped you back into reality.

“Hey, stranger.”

It was Dewey, leaned up against his beat-up van, which took up the spot next to your car. His expression was mellow, a delicate smile on his face as you neared. He was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand, “These are for you.”

The arrangement was simple but still lovely. Hydrangeas, tulips, baby’s breath: all your favorite flowers.

“How’d you—?”

“I have a good memory,” he smirked, “And I owe the girl working at Trader Joe’s big time for actually putting it together.” You giggled, taking in the fresh scent as he handed the flowers to you.

“I feel like such an asshole for being MIA this week, I’ve just been helping out a few kids with solo lessons, and I couldn’t get these until today but…” His shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I could tell something was off the other night. You seemed stressed so…I figured I’d try to lift your spirits. Did it work?”

A laugh bubbled out of you, touched by his kind gesture. You even felt your eyes getting misty, gratefulness filling your entire body.

“Oh shit,” Dewey said, noticing the tears pooling at the creases of your eyes, “Sorry, I didn’t think about the rest of the teachers seeing, I can totally bring them over later on if you—”

It was your turn cut him off with a kiss, sweet and reverent and warm. In your mind, the parking lot was empty, deserted; You could’ve been the last two people on the planet.

You slung your arms around his neck, the bouquet still clutched in your hand. After a few seconds, Dewey broke from you, a confused but enthused look on his face. “But…I mean, are you sure you want to be seen with me?” He looked around, and a few staff members had noticed your close proximity.

Glancing back at the group of teachers, you shook your head at him. “I don’t care about them,” you breathed, a new sense of confidence surging through you, “I just want you. Us. Together, for real. If you want, that is.”

His mouth spread into a wide grin. “I thought you’d never ask, hot stuff.” He gave you another peck on your lips.

“I’ll tell Rosalie first thing Monday morning,” you said, wanting to be above board now that you were official, “We wouldn’t want to break any more rules than we already have, right?”

“I guess not,” he mused, reluctantly releasing you from his grip before too many gossips saw the two of you together. News would spread like wildfire; They didn’t need too much of a show. “But I still intend on taking you out tonight. As my girlfriend.”

You feigned elated surprise at the word. “I could get used to that, you know. Has a nice ring to it.” You shimmied your shoulders happily, and Dewey couldn’t help but bark a laugh.

“So, I can definitely say my not-so-big romantic gesture worked, then?”

You smiled, pulling him closer. “And then some, Finn,” you pressed your tongue between your teeth, eyeing him up and down, “But I guess you’ll have to wait until tonight to find out just how much I appreciate it.” He smirked, enamored with your newfound assuredness.

“You’re torturing me, ya know.”

“I know,” you teased, “But don’t they say that good things come to those who wait?”

“True,” he retorted, “I think we’ve both done plenty of waiting. What’s a few more hours?”

You giggled at him one last time before he kissed your hand, bowing dramatically, “Until this evening, my lady!” He jumped into his van, and it sputtered to a start. “And by the way: thanks for finally finding the nerve to do what I couldn’t.”

“It was torture, believe me,” you joked.

“You have no idea,” he said, gazing at you, “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you.”

Your heart practically leapt out of your chest. “That makes two of us, Finn,” you said, still hanging onto the flowers that set everything in motion, “Now get outta here before I change my mind about tonight.”

He shifted gears almost instantly, giving you a wink as he sped off out of the parking lot.

*****

thanks for reading! please like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed :)

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heknowshisherbs · 1 year

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hey y'all, long time no see!! ◡̈ if anyone remembers me, i was pretty active on here (same username) from like 2020-2021 until someone irl found my blog and i panic deleted it; i've regretted ever since. i saw bug beverage on tour last night and now i'm back.

i missed y'all!! <3

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice x reader #school of rock #school of rock musical #dewey finn #dewey finn x reader

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littledanette · 2 years

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Teacher’s Pet - Part 5

(Dewey Finn x Reader)

Hello my darlings! How are you all doing?! I hope all is well. It feels so surreal to be back after all this time with a new chapter, but here we are! I’m so glad I was inspired to come back to this story. I really want to complete it because you’ve all been so wonderful supporting it throughout all this time, even with no updates in sight. I’m very happy to share this new chapter with you and I hope you’ll all enjoy it. Please let me know what you think!

Oh, a little technical detail: reading back through all the previous chapters, I realized I’ve completely messed up the story timeline I set up after part 1. The concert and graduation were supposed to be just a few days after part 1, but since I ended up writing much more than I had expected that timeline didn’t work anymore. So, just to clarify: all I’ve done is I’ve expanded the time frame of the entire story from a few days to a couple of months. It shouldn’t impact the storyline much, but I wanted to make sure I specified it. That’s all. I missed writing Dewey so much! So, without further ado… Onward we go with part 5! Enjoy!

Warning: 🔥🔥🔥

Teacher’s Pet - Part 5

“You seriously need to keep quiet right now.” “Make me.” “Keep teasing me with that mouth of yours and see where that gets you -” “…Is that a threat or a promise?” You cock an eyebrow meaningfully, but a far off voice suddenly interrupts the conversation. “Dewey? Dewey! They’re ready for us on stage!” “Oh, crap! Why do I keep following you and your insane ideas…?!” Dewey rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically while you grin to yourself. It was your “fault”, naturally. Like always. Even though you prefer to think of it as taking initiative. What harm was there in having a little bit of fun…right?

❤️

After all, you knew Dewey needed a break. It was two days before graduation and the day before the big end of year concert. You’d been stuck at sound check for the last three hours. Between the chatter, the cacophony of instruments, the out of tune mics, the backstage frenzy and the other students’ performance anxiety, you could tell he was losing his mind. So, you’d made an executive decision and had casually announced you were going to the bathroom for a quick break, throwing Dewey a meaningful glance over your shoulder that clearly said “Follow me.” It hadn’t taken long for you to find a little secluded space in the backstage area settled behind a line of metal instrument cases, partially covered by two heavy black curtains. It had taken even less for Dewey to join you and immediately start ravishing you with kisses, gripping onto your body as he let off some steam. You knew he’d needed that, and felt absolutely no guilt at all for bringing him there.

❤️

“Because you fucking love it?” You smirk provocatively to answer his question, sliding your hands smoothly down the lapels of his jacket. Before he can reply, you tilt your face and wantonly lock your lips with his once more, pushing yourself against his body while caressing his abdomen. Dewey moans into your mouth in response, struggling to pull away. He mutters your name under his breath, trying to sound admonishing.

“We have to get back on stage - everybody’s waiting for us -” he sounds slightly anxious, but you keep interrupting him with kisses, “- They’re gonna notice - we’re the only ones missing - They’re gonna start - looking for us -” “I know, I know…” you reply, pulling away from him for a moment with a fake apologetic expression on your face.

Dewey looks at you questioningly as he catches his breath and tries to tidy himself up. Your eyes turn mischievous as you lean forward once more, placing your mouth against his ear. “But you’re so sexy when you’re on stage,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his earlobe, “You make me so wet just looking at you.”

Dewey groans audibly, clearly struggling to contain himself. Just then, you hear someone else call your name too and you know it’s definitely time to go. You talk a big game, but the last thing you want is for someone to discover you. You grin in satisfaction, feeling you’ve won yet another round of the continuous teasing game between the two of you, and turn around to leave…. when suddenly Dewey’s hand clamps around your forearm. He pulls you back against him, pushing himself flush against you and lowering his head to whisper in your ear, “Keep playing this game and see what happens…”

You can’t help it. Casting a cocky glance behind your shoulder, you murmur back, “Oooh…but Mister Schneebly, I’m just being a good girl for you.” Dewey inhales sharply. Touché, you think to yourself. You feel his grip on you tighten, but before he can do anything else you hear the stage manager call his name again, this time sounding much closer. Far too close. In a flash, you feel Dewey’s mouth leave one last lingering kiss beneath your ear, his voice warning you to count to ten before following him. Then he lets go of you and steps out from your little hiding spot. You hear him respond to the manager, making up some shitty excuse about the heat and having to take a break in the shade and wondering where the fresh water bottles were. You giggle to yourself, waiting an appropriate amount of seconds before following in his steps and joining the others back on stage.

❤️

The final rehearsals are in full swing. Say what you will against Horace Green, but even since they won the Battle of the Bands the school board has really invested in the school’s performances - in every sense of the word. The big stage is set up in the school’s huge rugby field that had therefore been transformed into an outdoor arena for the occasion. There are trucks unloading lights and set pieces, technicians walking around the stage, as well as an entire backstage crew dealing with costumes, makeup, instruments and microphones… And of course, all of the performers including the school band, the singers, a couple of music assistants, and last but not least, Dewey Finn himself. You head for the front of the stage where the rest of your band mates are sitting. As soon as you get back to your seat your best friend - who also happens to be a part of the band - eyes you questioningly. You brush it off with a slight frown and a wave of your wrist, pretending you’d had to deal with something silly and annoying. She shrugs it off and resumes talking with the others and you force yourself to get back into the conversation as well.

You make the terrible mistake of crossing Dewey’s eyes for a moment as he’s walking across the stage, reading a list the stage manager has just handed to him. He slowly lowers his eyes to subtly glance down at your bare legs, and it sends a jolt of pleasure running down your thighs. As much as you hate giving in to his teasing, you have to break eye contact for your own sake. You self consciously cross your legs, trying to pull your skirt lower. Then you look back up just in time to see Dewey smirk to himself and you almost curse out loud. He got you this round. Damn it!

Before you can mentally dwell on the matter any further they call your band on stage. Oh, great, you think to yourself. Just what you need in this state: more of Dewey doing his Rock God thing. As close as possible to you, of course. Perfect. Just perfect!

You grab your guitar and start tuning it, pretending to be extremely concentrated as the others take their places and Dewey strolls past you, clearing his throat as he sets up his mic stand. You keep your focus, determined not to give in again. Fortunately everybody gets into place quickly and the music starts playing. You have to stand to Dewey’s left throughout the song, just a step behind him... which means you get a perfect front row view of him as he sings. And sure enough, the bastard seems to really enjoy himself as he puts on a particularly energetic performance, radiating a mixture of power, talent and goddamn sex appeal that makes you fuck up a couple of notes.

You’re almost certain nobody else notices - after all, the whole band’s used to seeing Dewey put on a show like he does. But you certainly can’t ignore the way he casually glances behind him to look at each musician, allowing his eyes to linger on you just a second too longer…or how he turns around to strut across the stage, casually twirling in front of you….or how he hits the higher notes with that growl in his voice that he knows drives you crazy.

You try to act as cool and uncaring as possible, returning each of his stares with equal fervour and deciding to equally oh-so-casually step up closer to him at the mic mid song, thrusting your hip out as you dive into your solo and throwing your head back as you play. You can feel his eyes on you as you rock your hips side to side and swish your head back and forth, before looking up at him from under your lashes as you finish. He almost risks skipping a beat - literally - but quickly snaps out of it.

You smugly step back to your place as the band finishes the song. The rest of the students clap and cheer for you. Dewey takes a bow, the sweat running down the sides of his face, strands of his hair glued to his cheeks. He motions for the rest of the band to step forward to receive their applause and you obediently follow your friends to the front of the stage. It’s still just a rehearsal, but everyone - including the backstage crew - seems to have stopped doing what they were doing to applaud you. Dewey turns around, beaming.

“All right!” He cheers, pumping the air with his fist, “Awesome job you guys, that was amazing!” The rest of the band joins in his cheering. “Now,” he adds, raising his hands to quiet everyone down as he catches his breath, “We’re going to have to leave the stage to the choir because they have a limited time slot to rehearse, so just get your stuff and sit back down for a moment. They should be done in half an hour, so take a break but don’t lose your focus, because we’re going straight into tech after this and trust me, it’s gonna be a looong night if we’re not on our A game. All right, beat it!” He jokingly shoos everyone away, “I gotta go wash up before I melt here!”

And with that he leaves the stage. As you gather your guitar you exchange happy smiles with your band mates, complimenting one another and keeping up the hype. Then you decide to head to the little relax area set backstage to grab a drink and maybe a little snack while you wait. You leave your guitar in its case on the side of the stage and make your way through the heavy velvet curtains between the wings…. When suddenly you feel someone pull you backward, and for a second everything goes black.

❤️

The daylight disappears as Dewey pulls you behind the last wing of the stage. In one swift motion he twists you around and hoists you up on one of the amps, setting you down just perfectly at his hip height. You’re surrounded by thick black curtains hanging on every side and you’re standing in mid darkness, hidden from view on the far side of the wing just before the backstage area. But you can still hear people walk by you just a few feet away. “Dew!” You gasp in surprise under your breath, “What the fuck are-”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Grabbing your wrists, he pulls your arms behind your back and holds them there as he leans into you, forcing you to look up at him. He’s not hurting you - he never does - but with all your make out sessions he knows by now you don’t mind being handled a little more roughly sometimes. Not to mention, you’d quickly learned Dewey really enjoyed taking charge… and you were an absolute and total sub for him. “What did I tell you before going on stage?” He asks you, his voice low. “You teasing little devil…” You catch onto his previous warning and grin mischievously. “Oooh….Mister Schneebly, am I in trouble now?” You ask innocently, making doe eyes at him.

He chuckles, his voice a low guttural sound, and shakes his head. Then he raises his face looking at you with a mixture of amusement and desire. You’re standing so close your noses are touching. “You’re impossible -” he murmurs, skimming your face. “I’m still hearing a lot of words and not seeing a lot of action, Mister Schneebly….” You tease him further, careful to brush your lips against his as you speak, “Better be quick if you want to do something about it, before recess is over - ”

He cuts you off once more as he closes the space between the two of you. You gasp loudly as you feel him bite down on your neck. He lets go of your wrists, grabbing your hips instead and pulling you against him as soon as you spread your legs to welcome him closer. He kisses your neck in all your favorite spots, making you gasp airily and roll your head back. Your hands snake underneath his jacket, gliding up his torso and chest before reaching his neck and stopping beneath his jawline to cup his face. You gently pull him away from your collarbone and exchange a longing stare, before leaning forward again and kissing him fervently. You feel his hands leave your hips, caressing your back upward and diving into your hair.

He grabs onto the locks at the nape of your neck and pulls, gently enough so as not to hurt you but still strong enough to elicit a small whimper from you. You retort by biting down on his bottom lip. He doesn’t let you linger too long before he closes his mouth over yours once more, his tongue hungrily tasting you. “My little devil…” he whispers between kisses, pulling on your hair again and making you gasp out loud. “My Rock God…” you reply, moving your hands swiftly down to his hips and pulling him flush against you.

His groin is perfectly levelled between your legs, and as you rock your hips forward and hitch your skirt a little higher his crotch lands right between your thighs. You frantically exchange more heated kisses, biting and sucking each other’s lips. You both have to force yourselves to keep quiet. You’re not sure about Dewey, but knowing you have to hush yourself while he’s pleasing you like this makes you even more flustered.

Dewey groans, suppressing the sound into your mouth when he feels your hand move from his side to his crotch as you caress his groin through the fabric of his jeans. He pulls down harder on your hair, but at this point you only feel the pleasure. His hands let go of your locks and glide under your shirt, his fingers tracing outlines on your naked skin. It’s beginning to feel like its’s not enough...

It never feels like enough, because Dewey always makes you want more. And you can’t have more. At least not for now. Not until you keep that stupid promise he convinced you to make just two weeks before....

❤️

“What do you mean, no sex?”

You’d stared at him as though he’d just suggested to rob a bank in broad daylight. The audacity with which he’d just calmly made the suggestion only sounded more ridiculous given the fact that you were both standing in his office - you propped up on his desk, him between your legs, a position that was becoming increasingly familiar to you both - and he had just broken up a particularly heated make up session to apparently say the dumbest fucking thing he could think of.

“I didn’t say we should never have sex,” he’d retorted, trying to button up his shirt, fix his tie and tame his hair at the same time. “I’m just saying that we agreed we’d take things slow - dontlookatmelikethat - and you’ve been making it very fucking difficult to keep that idea up.” “Yeah - and what’s the problem?!” You'd asked, exasperated. “I’ve told you once, I’ll say it a thousand more times if I need to,” he replied, placing his hands on either side of your body to gaze down at you with a gentle look in his eyes, “You know how much I really care about you, and you know I don’t want to fuck this up. I know how much you want this - and don’t you think for a goddam moment I don’t really, really want this too. But - but!” He’d repeated, eyeing you meaningfully as soon you’d huffed loudly and looked away, “I also want you to enjoy these last moments of high school like you deserve. Your friends, your last lessons, not to mention the end of year concert….and hey? Hey!” He’d placed a finger under your chin to turn your head back towards him, “Listen to me, okay? Take it from an idiot. My first time? I was drunk, high, and I lost my virginity in the back of my friend’s van to a girl I barely knew just because we were having a stupid celebratory night out before the end of school and I felt like I had to do it right at that moment, no matter what. And you know what? It sucked.” Despite you forcing yourself to stay upset, you were listening to what he was saying. “It’s not true that your first time doesn’t really matter, that it’s okay even if it’s bad. It’s bullshit. You’ll always remember it. No matter what. And you’ll always regret not having waited for the right moment just because you thought you had to hurry up. So guess what?” He’d slowly moved a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’m not about to make that mistake with you. Not to mention let you make that mistake to yourself. I like you too much. I care about you, about us, too much to let either of us be that stupid.” He’d gently leaned forward to kiss your forehead tenderly. “I want to make sure it’s special. For you, and yeah, guess what? For me, too. So just…bear with me. Can we just agree on this one thing?”

Taken aback by his genuine display of kindness and caring, you’d found yourself at a loss of sarcasm for once. You had only been able to nod in agreement, waiting for him to continue. “Just promise me we can wait until after your graduation before we go all the way.” “After graduation? After graduation???” You’d audibly groaned. “Dewwww….But that’s two fucking weeks away!” “I know, I know…” “But how the fuck are we supposed to make it to there?!” He’d chuckled slightly, “I don’t know, but we’ll manage…” “…I’m sorry, did you miss the way you just slammed me into your desk to make out like, five minutes ago?! Dew, I could feel you getting hard before we even entered your office, for fuck’s sake!”

He’d laughed out loud at your brazenness, “I know! That’s exactly why I’m telling you this.” Shaking his head lightly, he’d looked at you lovingly and insisted, “Trust me. It’s going to be difficult for me too, but we’ll be glad we waited. Besides…” he’d added, a glint of mischief suddenly sparkling in his eyes, “I only said we shouldn’t go all the way, not stay away from each other…” “Yeah, I really wanna see us try to- ah!” You’d gasped as he dipped his head to teasingly bite you beneath your ear - a spot that was quickly becoming one of his favourites.

“Promise?” He’d mumbled against your neck, slowly starting to drag his nose against your skin, his mouth hovering above each of your sweet spots, “Huh?” You’d closed your eyes in ecstasy. He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew exactly how to make you lose all resistance. It was embarrassing how easily you succumbed to his every move, really. But you also couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Closing your eyes, you’d tilted your head back and taken a deep breath, your hand reaching for his face and holding him closer to you as his hands slowly found their way back to your sides. “All right, Schneebly, I promise…” you’d agreed, not before suddenly rocking your hips into him and making him groan out in surprise. You’d smiled wickedly to yourself, leaning your chest against his and reaching up to gently bite down on his jawline, nibbling on his skin. “But I’m not gonna promise I’m gonna make it easy for you.”

❤️

Those words could not ring truer, given the moment. But Dewey isn’t making things any easier, either. As a matter of fact, it almost looks like he’s forgotten all about your vow right now.

He seems to lose control for a moment as one of his hands dives between your legs to touch you through your panties in response to you caressing his groin. Taken by surprise, you drop your hand from his bulging crotch and almost cry out. He shushes you, covering your mouth with the palm of his hand and pushing his hips against yours, his hand caught in between. Your hands swoop up to the base of his neck, grasping onto his hair.

“Fuck, Dew…” you whisper behind his hand, breathless, “Are you crazy-?” “You’re the one driving me crazy, baby…” he whispers back, resting his forehead against yours. “We should sto-aah!” You moan again as his fingers keep moving between your thighs. “Fuck…Dew…” you bite down on the side of his hand covering your mouth, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder to cover your panting. You know you should stop immediately...but your mind goes into overdrive with the friction of his fingers against the fabric rubbing onto your sensitive skin and the way his hot breath feels in your ear and his raspy voice cursing under his breath and the way you instinctively push against his hand and roll your hips in rhythm because you just can’t keep your body still. But when you feel his hand try to move your panties to the side, something unexpectedly snaps inside you and you grab his hand, stopping him. “Wait! I can’t…I can’t do this anymore.”

He freezes for a second, dropping both of his hands and confusedly looking at you until you stare intensely in his eyes and add, “I can’t fucking wait anymore. Not one more day. Screw that. I’m over it.” He grins, still panting. He stares at you in silence for a moment, then something seems to click behind his eyes. Lunging forward, he gives you a breathless kiss that leaves you light headed, then pulls away just enough to lean his forehead against yours once more and nods. “You know what?” He asks. You shake your head. “I think I’m done waiting, too.”

He kisses you again, this time more tenderly. “But not here. Definitely not here, for fuck’s sake.” He chuckles lightly, almost to himself, looking around you, “Oh God. What the fuck are we even doing back here…?”

“Then when? Where? Tell me.” You ask immediately, already feeling electric, turning his face back towards you, afraid he’ll somehow lose focus. “Tell me right now, or I will rip your pants off and so be it.”

He almost laughs out loud this time. Then he lets out a deep sigh and smiles at you. “All right, all right, you little minx. Tonight. You can come over to my place after we’re done here. How does that sound?”

You’re so ecstatic to hear him say those words. You almost can’t believe he’s actually agreeing to this. Thank fuck for you and your insane ideas! You throw your hands around his neck excitedly and pull him close, kissing him lightly and then smiling at him. “It sounds amazing.” You answer, beaming. He smiles back gently starting to pull away, but you tug him back. “Hey, Dew?” You ask a little more softly. “Yeah?”

You lower your head, suddenly feeling a little “I think…I think it’s really going to be perfect.”

He smiles sweetly at you, nodding in agreement before giving you one last, longing tender kiss. “I’m going to make sure it’s perfect, baby.” He whispers in your ear, hugging you close to him and sighing deeply.

You can’t wait for the day to be over.

To be continued.......

#my writing #teacher's pet #dewey finn #dewey finn x reader #dewey finn imagine #dewey finn x you #alex brightman #school of rock #school of rock broadway #school of rock musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #broadway #beetlejuice x reader #beej x reader

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