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ladyantiheroine · 28 days ago

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Goodwill Towards Men (And Women)

Summary: It's Christmas Eve in Gotham, and the lonely Bruce Wayne is visited by an old friend who disappeared the year before. Read on AO3.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Selina Kyle

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5.3k words

Tags: Christmas fluff, wholesome, melancholy, reunions, mistletoe, love confessions, tooth-rotting fluff, cozy, sweet, yearning.

Author's Note: These two deserve a sickly sweet happy ending, dammit.

“The blizzard is looking awfully severe,” Alfred said.

The butler gazed out the window onto the deep blue night. Gotham was blanketed with white slush, the sky a dark blur of snowflakes and high-pitched winds. No doubt even that the large and illustrious Wayne Manor could be snowbound by morning.

“Well, that’s Gotham for you,” Bruce said. “It blizzards in winter, rains the rest of the year.”

The Wayne heir was seated on the red couch in his lounge. After his final Batman outing of the year, he traded his bat suit for pajamas, a robe, and a pair of warm knitted socks. He sat with his feet propped up by the crackling fireplace with a detective novel opened in his lap.

Alfred had convinced him to take some time off from vigilante work until the new year. Bruce has agree to it, but only because it seemed like most of Gotham’s criminals had dialed back their activities this December. On his last few patrols, Bruce only came across a few petty burglaries and muggings. At one point, he got so bored and was tempted to chase down a car going over the speed limit.

Regardless, Gotham had seen its lowest holiday crime rate in a long time, and that was the only reason Bruce agreed to a break. Perhaps it was because of the blizzard. Perhaps it was because of the fiasco with the Penguin that took place one year before. It seemed like Batman wasn’t needed this Christmas season.

Bruce had to admit, it was nice, if a bit strange, to be spending an entire evening at home with no plans. A dinner of warm soup and a robe fresh from the dryer felt comforting on a frosty winter night. It brought him memories of childhood Christmases, of old holidays songs ballooning from his family’s record player and sipping hot chocolate.

However, Bruce quickly realized the downside to too much free time: Boredom. One chapter into the book he was reading, and he’d already guessed the killer and the entire plot twist. The power was fuzzy due to the storm, so Bruce couldn’t watch television. He sat in a massive house with nothing to do.

Alfred lifted a white-gloved finger to the window and drew a smiley face in the condensation. He chuckled to himself, then turned to the Christmas tree in the corner and adjusted one of the flickering lights.

“If not for the storm,” he said. “Perhaps you could have thrown a party. Invited Gordon, perhaps Dent, a few others. Sounds like a much better way to spend Christmas Eve.”

Bruce shrugged.

“Even if there wasn’t a storm,” he said. “Harvey and Jim have families. I’m not going to take them away from them on Christmas Eve.”

“It is good to spend this time with family,” Alfred agreed. He flicked his eyes over his shoulder. “But that includes you too, Bruce.”

Bruce smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you my family, Alfred?”

“Of course, sir. But I don’t think an old man like me alone is fit to keep a man like you entertained.”

“Don’t speak so badly about yourself, Alfred.”

“All I’m saying,” Alfred turned to face him. “This is not a night of the year to be alone with your employee.”

Bruce pursed his lips. The butler had a point.

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I told you to rest and I’m giving you trouble.”

“No, Alfred,” Bruce said. “It’s fine. You’re…you’re not wrong.”

The old man nodded, then straightened his coat as if to brush the topic off.

“I’m craving a mug of hot coco,” he said. “Would you like me to make you one as well, Master Bruce?”

“Yes, Alfred. Thank you.”

The butler promptly dismissed himself from the lounge and headed to the kitchen. Bruce slapped his book shut and set it down on the coffee table. He leaned back with a sigh and watched the snowflakes whirling on the wind outside the window. The heat from the fireplace warmed the bottom of his feet.

He mulled over Alfred’s words in his head. The old man wasn’t wrong. Bruce did often feel a creeping loneliness glimpsing him just over his shoulder. Wayne Manor, and its adjacent Batcave, were large and cavernous, filled with long hallways and towering ceilings not meant to contain just one person. His home echoed even the faintest footsteps, reminding you of all the empty space there was.

Sure, Alfred was excellent company. But he was Bruce’s butler as much as his surrogate father, and he could only give him so much. And on nights like this, without a vigilante mission to distract him, Bruce was left alone in Wayne Manor with all its silence and ghosts.

He recalled the last few times he had real guests over. Not just business associates from Wayne Enterprises, but friends he brought over simply for the company.

One name that came to him was Vickie Vale. The sharp and intelligent reporter who used to work for the Gotham Globe. She saw right through him, knew he was more than he pretended to be, and the first person he allowed himself to get close to.

As much as they cared for each other, Bruce was not completely surprised that the relationship dissolved. It was hard to reconcile Bruce Wayne with Batman, not to mention the stress of seeing your loved one walk out the door every night and not knowing for sure if he’d come back alive.

Vickie had left Gotham a long while ago now, no doubt thriving in her photojournalism career somewhere else. In a better city, with better people. Perhaps sleeping in the arms of a man who suited her better. One who was as open as a book with no messy complications that demanded her to contend with, who didn’t require her to stay up at night worried if he would make it home in one piece.

Bruce sighed and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t been right for Vickie. It seemed like he wasn’t right for a lot of people.

He struggled to imagine someone who would understand, who knew what it was to have this other half. To disappear into someone else as the night fell, someone else that the world could never see.

Then, something flickered like an old, dusty bulb in his head. A memory, two faces that came together, one of a meek blonde secretary and the other of a thief clad in stitched black leather.

“Selina Kyle.”

Her name fell from his mouth. It had been a year since he uttered it and it felt both strange and familiar on his tongue. Selina. Another intelligent, bespectacled blonde who wasn’t fooled by Bruce’s brooding billionaire front (Alfred joked that he had a type). Her memory brought back physical sensations. Her blonde curls in his fingers, her red lips on his mouth, her feline purr in his ear.

Bruce hadn’t thought of her in twelve months. Or, more accurately, hadn’t allowed himself to think of her. Probably because on some level, he knew she had…well, sunk her claws into him more than any other woman. His past paramours had either been temporary flings or public stunts. Simply decorations for his carefully crafted playboy persona. Vickie had come close to something genuine, but even that couldn’t last once Bruce and Bat became one before her. The duality didn’t make sense to her.

But Selina…got it.

Bruce had sensed it even before they learned each other’s identities. Before the masks were unveiled, it’s like they were kindred spirits. Two unusual people—freaks—playing the role of normal adults in the daylight.

But once night fell…the bat and the cat came out to play.

Selina innately understood Bruce in a way no one else did. She knew what it was to have this darker half, this Mr. Hyde to one’s Dr. Jekyll. To know that certain things could only be achieved by putting on a mask and calling yourself something other than…well, you.

The last time Bruce spoke to Selina, he made her an offer: Stay with him. Live in Wayne Manor, where they could finally join as equals. But Selina refused, and with Penguin defeated, she disappeared into the darkness. All that was left of her was a black cat that found its way to Bruce from an alleway.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Bruce heard a soft meow from the door. He turned to see the black cat, the one he found just last year, sauntered into the room. It leapt onto the couch and curled into his lap.

“Hey there,” Bruce said softly. He grinned and stroked a hand down the cat’s back. The creature purred and nuzzled into him.

He named the cat Lucky, as it was believed black cats were bad luck, but hoped the name would cancel that superstition out. Lucky had been living in Wayne Manor, mostly keeping to himself and licking from milk bowls that Bruce left out.

For a moment, Bruce entertained the fantasy that Selina had left Lucky behind purposefully. Like a substitute, since she couldn’t stay herself. As pleasant as Lucky’s company was, Bruce imagined what this year’s Christmas would look like if Selina had chosen to stay with him. He pictured her seated next to him on the couch, the two of them close together in comfortable silence. Lucky would nestle on Selina’s lap while she flipped through her own book, sipping eggnog from a mug. She would be in a lovely nightgown and robe, maybe some cat slippers, curled next to him like they were an old married couple.

Bruce chuckled. After all this years, he didn’t think he had that kind of sentimentality in him. But he kept imagining it, her blonde frizz resting on his shoulder, dozing off in the warmth while the outside world drew colder and darker. The scene in his head made something curl into him, made something tighten in his chest.

“Coco, Master Bruce.”

Alfred’s voice snapped Bruce from his reverie. Alfred appeared in the doorway with two steaming mugs in his hands.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said as his butler handed him a mug.

The old man took a sip from his own cup, wiping the brown residue from his mustache. He glanced down at the black feline in Bruce’s lap.

“Good to see Master Lucky has come out of hiding for Christmas Eve,” he said.

The two of them sipped from their mugs. Alfred finished his quickly and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

“I’m feeling a bit tired, sir,” he said. “I think I may go to bed early tonight. Unless you need anything else.”

“I’m good, Alfred,” Bruce said. “Thank you. Get some rest.”

“Goodnight, sir.”

Alfred disappeared down the hall. Bruce set his half-full, lukewarm mug on the coffee table. He sighed and absentmindedly pet Lucky between the ears.

He hadn’t thought of Selina for a year. And now that he started, he couldn’t stop. Her name looped in his head like a record,

Selina. Selina. Selina.

Bruce’s eyes wandered over to the liquor cabinet in the corner of the room opposite to the twinkling tree. A strange part of him felt crude for craving a glass. Christmas was a time for hot chocolate and eggnog, not bitter brown whiskey.

For a brief moment, Selina’s mischievous voice whispered in his ear. One glass won’t hurt, will it?

He smirked.

He wondered where she was spending the holidays this year. Was she staying in a better apartment in a better city? Was she still running her hands along diamonds and art exhibits? What did she want for Christmas? Maybe some new collars for her cats? A new coat to keep her warm when she walked home in the chill? A new pair of boots when the old ones worn out from nights running on rooftops?

Bruce halted his thoughts. He was doing it, wasn’t he? He shook his head to rattle the images from his head. There was no point in fantasizing about a woman who wasn’t his. Selina made her decision clear that night in the sewers.

Miss Kyle has been a mousy secretary once, one who berated herself for her loneliness and single life. And it made her miserable. Becoming Catwoman was possibly the best thing that happened to her. She was finally free, uninhibited, unashamed. And Bruce was not one to try and declaw a wild creature.

After all, was he not also a wild creature who didn’t want his wings clipped?

Bruce gently moved Lucky off his lap and stood up. The clock on the mantle told him it was nearing midnight. Tomorrow was Christmas and Bruce needed some sleep.

Before he could put out the fireplace, he paused. His ears perked up, listening past the crinkle of the flames. There was a faint sound coming from the library. Bruce paused for several moment, listening just beyond the door.

One of the perks of becoming a vigilante was that your senses were sharpened. You trained your body to see and hear better, to detect enemies faster. And every one of Bruce’s instincts were telling him someone was in the library.

He began taking quiet steps towards the library. His hands were slow on the doorknob, turning it and pushing it open, all the while his ears perked.

The library was pitch black, save for the moonlight spilling from the arching windows. There was a thickness in the air. Space being taken up, oxygen being sucked up. Bruce stepped inside and flicked his eyes around.

“Someone here?” he called.

A cold breeze brushed through the room. Bruce found a lightswitch on the wall by the door and alighted the room. In a split second, he saw a shadow disappear behind one of the bookshelf. Maybe he was just seeing things, but he swore he saw the zipper of a black leather boot.

“Come on out, now,” he said. “Show your face, and I maybe I won’t call the police.”

No verbal response. Bruce moved slowly into the library, his socks quiet on the wooden floor. Meanwhile, Bruce heard a click that could only come from a pointed heel on a hard wood floor.

“You know,” he said. “If you’re going to break into someone’s home and steal from them, it probably helps to have practical shoes.”

Bruce turned and walked down an aisle between two shelves. He could hear a very soft breath on the other side of the shelf. They were the kind of double-sided shelves that public libraries had. Slowly, he pulled a large, thick book from the shelf. He peeked through the gap into the aisle over.

There, just as he suspected. In the book-sized gap, he saw a swath of black latex with silver stitiching.

It was her.

Catwoman.

Suddenly, the feline thief rushed out of the aisle in the direction of the library door. Bruce darted out the aisle to see Catwoman’s leather silhouette running toward the exit. He hurled the heavy book at the door, and it just missed her head as it pushed ti shut and activated the automatic lock.

“Shit!” Selina hissed.

Bruce hurried over and as Selina tried to pull open the heavy door. She sneered down at the hefty, hardcover volume on the floor.

“The Complete Works of William Shakespeare,” she read on the cover. “That thing could have knocked my head off.”

“My apologies,” Bruce said. “If I knew I’d have to stop you, I could have picked some Charles Dickens.”

Bruce trailed his gaze over her. Clearly, it wasn’t just Selina’s wit that hadn’t changed. For a brief moment, Bruce felt like it was twelve months prier, and he was sitting on the couch in the parlor, across from a smirking blonde secretary who made his heart skitter. Or dangling from a building while she sneered at him through a mask.

A normal man would have been shocked to find someone breaking into his home. To see someone from his past emerge from the shadows after a year.

But Bruce was not normal. And neither was the woman in front of him.

“I thought you were dead,” he said.

Selina turned to face him and held his gaze. Bruce’s eyes were soft and his hands were where she could see him. No hidden bat toys on him. Her posture loosened a little when she realized he wasn’t going to fight her.

“I thought you would have better security,” she said. “You’d think the richest man in Gotham would have more cameras.”

“Why would I? It keeps interesting company out.”

A brief smirk crossed Selina’s lips.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now,” she said.

Bruce slipped his hands into the pockets of his robe. His eyes kept flicking to the whip looped around her belt.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he said. “No one sleeps tonight. Children are up waiting for Santa Claus. And apparently I’m up waiting for cat burglars.”

He glanced up to the glass hole Selina cut from the glass ceiling. It was just big enough for a person of Selina’s size to shimmy through it with a rope. Miss Kyle was thin, but the hole was still large enough to send a flurry of moonlit snowflakes inside.

Bruce brought his gaze back down to Selina.

“Care to explain why you’re letting a draft into my library?” he asked.

Selina wouldn’t look him in the eye. She gazed to the side on the carpet and shrugged.

“Just came back into town,” she said. “Someone else has already snatched up my old apartment…and the hotel rooms have gotten pricier since last year.”

Selina pursed her lips and Bruce sensed there was an “And” she wasn’t saying. She came to Wayne Manor to steal. Money, jewels, anything she could use to get a warm place to sleep for the night.

But she’d been to Wayne Manor before. She knew the estate was remote, not the place you stumble upon by accident. And it wasn’t like Bruce Wayne was the only guy in Gotham with rich valuables lying about his house.

Selina didn’t just steal from the first house she saw. But Bruce kept his lips sealed.

“I guess this is the part where you call the cops and arrest me,” she said. “I’m sure the GCPD still wants me for the murder of Max Shreck.”

Call the authorities. Another thing that a normal man might do in these circumstances. But once again, Bruce was not a normal man.

Bruce shook his head.

“You know, Selina,” he said. “If you needed some extra cash, all you had to do was ask.” He took a few tentative steps closer to her. “I know you’re not the kind of woman who likes to rely on men for that stuff. But there’s nothing wrong with asking a friend for help. I wouldn’t expect anything in return.”

He stopped a few feet in front of her and waited for a response. Selina’s eyes flicked him up and down.

“I didn’t think you considered me a friend,” she said. “After the way I left you last time.”

When she rejected his proposal to stay with him. When she was shot multiple times. When she disappeared after electrocuting Max Shreck.

“No hard feelings,” he assured her. “I understand why you left.” He chuckled a little and shook his head. “Honestly I’m…I'm just happy to see you’re okay. You know, after all this time.”

Not just okay. Alive. Back from the dead like a literal Ghost of Christmas past.

Something softened in Selina’s eyes. She reached up and pulled the stitched mask off her head. Her blonde frizz sprung free from the latex. A puff of snowflakes fell from the hole in the ceiling.

“It’s freezing in here,” Bruce said. He turned and unlocked the library door. He held it open for her. “It’s warmer in the parlor, if you’d rather talk in there.”

Selina raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto her face.

“Just promise not to lock the doors while I’m in there,” she said.

“Promise not to break my windows,” Bruce retorted.

The two of them retreated into the parlor and Bruce shut the door behind them. He kept waiting for Selina to pounce, to race to nearest door and get out. Instead, Selina’s eyes glazed over the fireplace, the Christmas tree and the lights strewn about the walls.

“Does the whole manor look like this?” she asks.

“Just about,” Bruce said. “Alfred likes to decorate.” He nibbled his lower lip. “And I kind of do too.”

Selina smirked and turned on her heels to face him.

“A big house,” she said. “A lot of work for a home with only two people in it.”

“Well…I haven’t been as busy as usual. A lot more time on my hands recently.”

“You poor thing.” Selina sauntered closer to Bruce. “Gotham hasn’t been feeding its…nocturnal animals, recently?”

Bruce snickered.

“I guess even criminals need a holiday, do they?” he said.

At that moment, a loud gust of wind past the windows and made the glass shake. A chaotic swirl of snowflakes past the window, mingling in the mist that obscured the horizon.

“That blizzard is getting worse,” Bruce said. “How the hell did you travel through that?”

Selina twisted her lip.

“I caught a ride to Gotham,” she said. “Wasn’t so bad when I got here.”

“Still, weren’t you freezing? I don’t know how temperature controlled that catsuit is.”

Selina didn’t respond. Her eyes lingered at the window, the dark evening that was growing fatally cold as the time ticked past midnight. Bruce could tell what she was doing. She was calculating the risks of leaving, going back out into the streets and trying to find a lodging before hypothermia could get her. Shivering on the road like a stray cat.

Bruce just couldn’t let that happen.

“Selina,” he said.

Selina turned to meet his eyes. Round, pale blue eyes like moonstones. The kind that could glow in the dark. See through the dark.

“I won’t ask you to stay,” he said. “But, if you need somewhere warm to stay for Christmas…you’re welcome here.”

Selina looked at him for a long moment. Bruce didn’t expect a yes from her. She came and got what she wanted. She had no reason to stay and he didn’t expect her to.

So it was a pleasant surprise when her eyes flicked him up and down, twisting her lips in consideration. She sauntered up closer to him, close enough that she would almost sense his heartbeat under his robe.

“I’ve got most of my stuff in storage,” she said. “I really don’t want to go to sleep in this thing.”

Bruce glanced down at the right leather clasping her from head to toe.

“I don’t have any women’s nightwear,” he said. “But…I’ve got some oversized shirts that might be more comfortable.”

Selina smirked and grazed her hand down the back of Bruce’s head.

“Sounds cozy,” she said.

Her voice was a low breath on his lips. Bruce was going to tell her that Wayne Manor had several bedrooms that could serve as a guest lodging, but that thought escape him.

“That California king you mentioned at the charity ball,” he said. “I managed to snatch it up after Shreck’s shut down.”

“Really?” she said.

“It’s nice. But…I don’t think it was made for one person to sleep in.”

Selina pet her fingers through his hair and pressed her other hand to his chest. Her fingers brushed just under the folds of his robs over his white undershirt.

“Big house of lights, big empty bed,” she mused. “You’ve got a lot of empty space that needs filling, Bruce.”

Bruce pressed his forehead against hers.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

The two of them were quiet for a few minutes. Selina’s eyes flicked up to the diamond chandelier on the wall. That’s when she saw it, handing from the center point of the ornate fixture: A leafy fleck of green with white berries in a red bow.

Selina looked at Bruce.

“Did you put that there on purpose?” Selina asked.

“If I say yes, will you think I’m clever for it?” he asked.

Then, Selina’s smirk softened into a smile. She cupped a hand on the back of Bruce’s neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Bruce’s heart riccochetted in his ribs. It had been so long since Selina kissed him that he’d almost forgotten the effect it had on him. He melted into her, a small sigh escaping his throat.

When their lips came apart, Bruce was red as a cherry and he knew even the dim chandelier lights couldn’t hide. Selina giggled at his expression.

“I guess you were right,” she said. “A kiss can be deadlier if you mean it.”

Bruce felt something cool on his lips. He touched his bottom lip with his finger and it came back rouge red.

“Fresh lipstick,” he said. “Do you freshen up for all your robberies?”

“A girl likes to be put together,” Selina said.

“Did you come here planning to kiss me?”

“If I say yes, will you think I’m clever for it?”

Bruce chuckled and threaded his fingers between Selina’s. Within a few minutes, the fireplace was reduced to a smouldering woodpile of smokey wisps. Upstairs, the door to the master bedroom was firmly shut.

Selina woke to sunlight on her eyelids. It took her a few moments to recollect where she was. The bedsheets beneath her body were freshly clean, the mattress thick and fluffy, the duvet of luxurious silk. If a woman like her was sleeping in a bed like this, that meant there was one place she’d stumbled back to.

Sunlight spilled from the arching window of Bruce Wayne’s bedroom. It draped across the bed as Selina sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her makeup was still on, as she saw her eyeliner and mascara black on her fingertips. Clearly, she was too distracted last night to wash up in the bathroom.

Her mind gathered together the memories form last night. She returned to Gotham, and what started as a robbery of Wayne Manor ended with her stumbling into bed with Bruce Wayne. She smiled and her lips buzzed with memories of smearing his skin with rouge.

While it was sunny on the snow outside, it was still late December and a wintery chill ran through the house. Selina was dressed in one of Bruce’ oversized shirts and her underwear, her suit a pile on the floor. She quickly found one of his spare robes on a hanger and wrapped herself in it. It was warm, despite benign fresh from the wash, it still smelled like him.

Downstairs, she heard music playing from a record player. One of those Christmas oldies that languished in the air like the smell of coffee. As Selina approached the kitchen, she heard a sizzle of a pan and the savory scent of bacon.

In the kitchen, Alfred was standing at the stove cooking. Bruce sat at the table, drizzling maple syrup onto a tall stack of chocolate chip pancakes. He sat up straight, his eyes alighting when Selina sauntered in.

“Just in time for breakfast,” he said.

Selina pursed her lips and grinned. She wasn’t sure if she’d be staying long in the morning, but the third plate and silverware set up on the table across form Bruce told her otherwise.

“Merry Christmas, you two,” she said.

Alfred moved the bacon off the pan onto a plate, then turned to face Selina. Over his uniform was a white apron with cartoon Santa Claus on the front.

“Miss Kyle,” Alfred said. “I take it you slept well.”

Selina’s face flushed warm and she glanced at Bruce. He slowed his mouth over a forkful of pancake and gave her a wink. He must have informed Alfred with morning that they had an unexpected guest. Selina grinned.

“Yes, I did,” she said.

“Take a seat. Pancakes are ready, and bacon will be soon.”

Selina tightened the knot on her robe and took a seat across from Bruce at the table. She reached for the stack of pancakes and began piling her plate.

“Hope you don’t mind I borrow the robe,” she said.

“Of course,” Bruce said. He gave her a sly look. “Only if you remember to return it.”

Selina returned the look.

“No promises,” she said. She shrugged. “I can be a bit forgetful.”

Alfred brought over the plate of bacon and Selina’s stomach audibly gurgled. She stacked a few strips on her palte, drizzled her pancakes, then went to eating. At some point during breakfast, she noticed some spots of color on Bruce. His neck. His jawline, a faint one on his cheek. Little remnants of Selina’s lipsticks where she kissed him there…and there…and there…

Selina finished her bacon and wiped the grease from her lip with a napkin. She reached across the table and rubbed at the stain on Bruce’s cheek.

“I made a mess, did I?” she said.

Bruce scoffed and glanced shyly at his lap.

“Alfred was teasing me this morning,” he said.

“As he should.”

The two of chatted for an hour more until both their plates were scraped with syrup, grease and smudges of chocolate. Alfred put their dishes away in the washer before excusng himself to the bathroom. Selina glanced at Bruce across the table and fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve.

“I guess I should be leaving soon,” Selina said. “The blizzard is past. It should be safer to commute outside.”

“On Christmas Day?” Bruce said. He reaced across the table and placed a hand on hers. “I don’t know I can allow that.”

Selina raised an eyebrow.

“You want to spend Christmas with a thief,” she said.

“I want to spend Christmas with Selina Kyle, the woman I fell in love with.”

Those words sent a tremor through the room. Selina’s eyes widened and her lip parted. Even Bruce seemed a little thrown off by what he said. But he pursed his lips and squeezed her hand.

“I’ve missed you, Selina,” he said. “I’ve missed you since last year and I’m not ready to watch you leave again.”

There was something pleading in his gaze. Selina felt something strange curl in her stomach. It was an unusual situation to find herself in. Someone was asking her to stay. Someone wanted, pleaded, for her to stay in their company. She couldn’t recall a time in the past that someone longed for her like that.

She bit her bottom lip and grinned.

“I guess one more day couldn’t hurt,” she said. “Only if Alfred is cooking dinner. That man is magic in the kitchen.”

“He is,” Bruce said. “He’s making a Christmas turkey with mashed potatoes. Open a bottle of red. Have some Christmas pudding for dessert.” He smiled. “Maybe you should stay for New Years too. I’ve already ordered a bottle of champagne and Alfred and I aren’t finishing it on our own.”

Selina covered her mouth while she tried to suppress a laugh.

“Is this a visit or a vacation, Bruce?” she said.

“It’s an invitation,” Bruce said. His face softened. “My offer from last year always stands, Selina. I won’t make you do anything, but…I want you to stay. I want to make you happy. You deserve it after…well, everything.”

Selina’s heart squelched in her chest.

“I can’t promise I’ll behave,” she said. “I’m not the girl I was last December, Bruce. I’ve changed a lot. I can’t promise that Catwoman didn’t come with me when I returned to Gotham. And she’s not an animal I can tame.”

“I hope so,” Bruce said. “Gotham’s been awfully boring without her.”

“I sincerely doubt that.” Selina pursed her lips. “I’ll consider it. I’ll give you until the new year to convince me.”

Bruce grinned and squeezed her hand.

“Challenge accepted.”

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mrcjprice193 · 4 months ago

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the most interesting character (for me) in Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is Richard...

merely on HOW DID HE BAG LYDIA? yeah sure he's into horror movies and big into the environment (I'm not sure if anybody caught that subtle reference to how her love interest in Beetlejuice goes Hawaiian) but that's it? I kinda wanted more about him it feels like a weird subplot that comes and goes...

another thing he kinda of looked too. idk how to say this without sounding mean normal? he's very conventionally attractive. yeah he played a musketeer of course he is but idk. I feel like someone who would've fit the role better is a Benicio del Toro type or maybe the actor himself. he 100% would play the role of a "weirdo" who would obsess over horror movies and dress his kid in morbid halloween costumes. lol

he even looks like Jenna Ortega a bit too. ESPECIALLY when he was younger!

maybe it's just me... lol

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice spoilers #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice 2 #jenna ortega #winona ryder #benicio del toro #astrid deetz #lydia deetz #beetlejuice richard #tim burton #movie #opinion #fanfiction #fancast #michael keaton

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royalwhumpness · 5 months ago

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Beetlejuice Beetlejuice - Reimagined [Fanfic]

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice didn’t quite live up to my expectations. I was disappointed by some of the creative choices, particularly in how certain characters were portrayed and the story direction. This fic is my re-imagining of the movie, reflecting how I feel the characters and story could have been better developed. ’ve removed the fiancée/manager character entirely. I found him unnecessary, and his execution felt lacking. The overuse of mental health terms to villainize him and, by extension, the mental health movement, struck me as lazy and problematic. While his manipulative nature was meant to control Lydia, there was no positive representation to counterbalance his portrayal, leaving the audience with little context for his misuse. Instead, these issues were treated as punchlines, which, in my opinion, trivialized the subject matter. In my version, Betelgeuse’s ex is introduced more subtly, with hints of her greater role as the main antagonist in a potential third installment: Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetljuice. Her character was completely underutilized in the film, and I felt she was given one of the most anticlimactic ends for any villain. Bob is not in this story. I’ve slightly re-imagined the detective, a character with a lot of untapped potential. On the other hand, Jeremy was the standout character for me and should have been the central antagonist. I’ve developed his relationship with Astrid more deeply, creating a stronger emotional impact leading up to his betrayal. Astrid, in my version, is a more realistic teenager—not the stereotypical brat she was in the movie. She and Lydia have a complex relationship, which, while strained, is more balanced. (Let’s not forget that Lydia herself was once a moody, gothic teen. She had personality, moped around, and resented her stepmother, but her characterization felt more nuanced and authentic than Astrid’s does here.) I was also disappointed by Delia’s treatment in the sequel—she felt like a mere caricature of her original self, and I believe she deserved much more. As for Betelgeuse, he went from being an outcast in the first film—someone you were warned against—to having an office and a legitimate business? That felt completely out of place. Much like Delia, he seemed like a caricature of his former self, and he’s significantly overpowered in this version. I’ve returned him to the chaotic, outcast anti-hero we all know. If you enjoyed the movie, that’s great—everyone has different tastes, and I respect that. But I hope you’ll give this version a chance and maybe find something to enjoy here too. If, like me, you were left wanting more from the sequel, perhaps this re-imagining will help scratch that itch. It’s been a cathartic project for me, and I hope you enjoy the read.

You can visit my AO3 if you'd like instead of reading here! Kudos would be much appreciated <3

PART ONE

“I can’t believe he survived that crash,” Lydia said, kneeling beside Delia and her daughter Astrid in front of her father’s gravestone. His likeness was etched into a chunk of stone shaped like a shark’s fin. Under the portrait, the inscription read:

Charles Deetz Husband, Father, Grandfather Peace Embraces the Dead Ones 1946-2024.

“Yes, well, I can’t believe that dreadful shark has his head in its belly.” Delia replied wryly, dabbing her eyes with a black handkerchief.

Silence hung in the air until Delia broke it with a sharp, ill-timed squawk: “Welp!” She slapped her knees and stood up abruptly. “Time to sell the house.” Lydia’s mouth fell open as Delia walked away, and after a brief moment of shock, she scrambled to chase after her. “Sell? Wha-why? You can’t, I-“ Lydia stammered. Delia silenced her with a raised, gloved hand. “Lydia, I’ve tried dressing this house in as much metaphorical gold as possible, but it’s still painfully clear that it is shit.” She lowered her hand, “I only stayed because your father loved it, but now I can finally rid myself of its stench. Not to mention that it is now an ugly reminder that my husband is no longer here.” With that, she stormed off, leaving Lydia frozen, watching her retreat. Every fragment of her life she held dear seemed to slip through her fingers, and with each heartbreak, the weight of grief grew heavier. She started bracing herself beneath the looming shadow of yet another impending loss.

Astrid came to stand beside her mom, gently placing a hand on her arm. Lydia glanced down at her daughter, and for a moment, she marveled at the beauty she had brought into the world. She saw herself in Astrid’s smile, but her inky black eyes, high and rounded cheekbones, and even her cute, small ears were all her father’s. At 15, Astrid had endured more than her fair share of losses. For years now, it had been just her and Lydia. Before she turned four, her grandparents had been a constant presence, always nearby. Then one day, with arms full of suitcases, they drove off, their car shrinking into the bright summer horizon. Only her grandfather reappeared from time to time, sitting with her to watch the birds while her mother tended to grieving clients. And instead of growing up surrounded by the warm, steadfast presence of her father, Astrid and Lydia had to confront his absence, mourning him when she was barely seven. Lydia placed her hand gently over Astrid’s. “I’m not going to let her sell the house.” Astrid remained silent, but she didn’t need to say anything. Astrid had never shown any affection for the house or its bygone charm. She had never known its vibrant, ghost-filled days. The town was small, and Astrid had eagerly accepted the chance to go to boarding school when she started her freshman year. To Astrid, this place, steeped in Lydia’s memories, was just a house. Instead, Astrid extended a soft, comforting smile before quietly following Delia’s path.

A little while later, Lydia found Delia in Charles’ office, researching how to list the house for sale and how soon after a death it could be done. “Delia, you don’t even live here anymore. I live here, and Astrid lives here. Doesn’t that mean something?” Without looking up from her screen, Delia replied, “You live here. Astrid goes to boarding school.” Lydia just stared. Where there should have been a beating, pulsing red glob of muscle in Delia’s chest, Lydia saw a yawning, gaping void. She watched as it seemed to draw in and distort the light around it, bending and warping everything towards its dark, insatiable center. Noticing the silence, Delia looked up. “Why are you so determined to stay? The Maitlands have moved on, Astrid is rarely home, and your ex-husband and father are both gone. I don’t see-“ She paused, her gaze meeting Lydia’s. The expression on Lydia’s face made her feel foolish. “I’m making an ass of myself, aren’t I?” Lydia responded with a slow, exaggerated nod, her eyes widening and lips pursed as if to underscore the obviousness of the answer. “I have a business here,” Lydia said quietly, “and memories.” Delia’s face softened. Lydia could see that her usual scowl had melted into something of a motherly expression of genuine compassion and sympathy. “Oh, Lydia.” She rose from her chair and approached her, reaching out to gently touch her face. “We’ve never really gotten along, have we? But you’re still my daughter, and we only have each other now.” “Then why are you uprooting my whole life right now?” Delia had no answer. She hadn’t lived in the house for over a decade. She and Charles had bought a condo in New York, allowing her to pursue her artistic endeavors and escape the ghost house. Charles would often travel back and forth, spending months at a time with Lydia and Astrid to indulge in his seasonal bird watching hobby. Meanwhile, Lydia remained behind, raising Astrid, supporting the house with her psychic business, and keeping Charles company during his visits.

“Alright,” Delia began, “I’m going to wait. But I still intend to sell the house.” Lydia started to interrupt, but Delia raised the same gloved hand to silence her. “I’m going to sell it eventually. But I’m not doing this out of spite. I want you to have the chance to move on, Lydia. I’m giving you a year.” Lydia sighed, lowering her gaze. A year might as well have been next week. The pause stretched long. An overwhelming urge to argue or plead spread through her bones and soaked into her throat, but she swallowed it down, managing a quiet, “Thank you,” paired with a soft, sullen smile. Delia’s expression brightened, and she gave Lydia’s nose a playful boop before leaving the office.

Astrid found her mom sulking on the couch, playing with her wedding ring. “You haven’t worn that in forever,” she said, sitting beside her and resting her head on her shoulder. Lydia returned the gesture, gently resting her own head on Astrid’s. She showed Astrid the ring and the inscription inside: ‘I will be with you, always.’ “Why can’t you see him, Mom?” Astrid asked softly. “I wish I knew, Astrid. Why can’t you?” Astrid lifted her head abruptly and shifted towards the edge of the couch, as if preparing to leave. Lydia, sensing Astrid’s frustration, said, “You can see them.” “So you say, but I have never seen one.” “You saw one when…“ “That I remember,” Astrid interrupted, cutting Lydia off before she could remind her, yet again, of the ghost she saw when she was four. It had been just over ten years since then, and she hadn’t seen one since.

“I’m going to ride my bike around town. I’ll see you later.” Astrid said. Lydia reached out to lovingly rub Astrid’s back before she left. “Okay. Be safe.” Astrid gave a slight smile and stood up. She often felt frustrated whenever her mom brought up her ability, or inability, to see ghosts. Thoughts swirled in her mind: Why can’t I see them? Am I not good enough? Are they even real? Would my mom really lie about something like this? She found it best to distance herself in these moments to avoid lashing out at her.

It had happened once before. Lydia was attempting to teach Astrid how to see ghosts, despite not fully understanding her own abilities. Frustrated by her failures regardless of her mother’s guidance, Astrid snapped. She accused her mother of being a fraud, claiming her psychic abilities were fake and that her business cheated clients out of their money. Astrid instantly regretted her harsh words. Though she didn’t see her mother’s reaction, she sensed it— the subtle shift—and prepared herself for what felt like the beginning of a strained relationship. It became routine then that at the first sign of rising anger or frustration, Astrid would remove herself from the situation to avoid confronting it altogether.

Astrid walked out the front door without a backward glance. Lately, her words had grown fewer, the once-eager stories about her day fading into silence. She barely met Lydia’s eyes anymore, and though small gestures of affection remained, the growing distance was unmistakable. Lydia’s heart ached as she watched her daughter go. Rising from the couch, she looked around the empty house. It was now haunted not by spirits, but by the echoes of a time when it was alive with the Maitlands’ presence and her family’s warm company. Longing to reclaim those cherished moments, she wandered through the house. Her eyes settled on her room, and a deep wave of sentimentality washed over her. An irresistible pull drew her toward the attic, driven by a quiet hope that revisiting the past might help her reconnect with what had been lost.

In her room, Lydia pulled out a small drawer from her jewelry box and carefully took out the old, familiar skeleton key. She smiled at it wistfully before heading for the attic. The stairs were draped in cobwebs and spider silk, hinting at years of neglect. Lydia unlocked the attic door and, after a struggle to unstick it, pushed it open and stepped inside. Waves of familiarity and longing enveloped her. Everything was covered in thick sheets and layers upon layers of dust undisturbed on top. It was clear that neither Lydia nor any other Deetz had ventured into this attic in years. She pulled the sheet off the town model and flicked on the switch. The model illuminated, instantly rekindling its old charm and wonder. Lydia leaned on the table, taking in the intricate details of the small buildings she hadn’t seen since before Astrid was born.

“Oh, I miss you so much,” Lydia said with a sigh. “I wish you had never moved on. We could have stayed a family, even in death.” She spoke aloud with the same reverence and cadence as one might when addressing an unseen deity. Speaking with the departed had always come easily to her—unless they had crossed beyond the reach of the afterlife. At that point, she was merely talking to herself. She knew they couldn’t hear her, but she needed to talk to them anyway. She lowered her head. “Why did you leave me?” She poked absentmindedly at a red toy car in a miniature driveway. “I wish you could have met Astrid. She would have loved you both.” She saw visions of Astrid coming home with her class drawings, eagerly showing them off to the Maitlands. She wanted Astrid to experience the joy she felt when they used their silly ghost powers. “You barely knew Richard before you were given your ticket to the Ethereal Express. Gone forever. And now Richard is gone, too. I can’t even see his spirit. My father is gone, my daughter is unreachable, and Delia is going to sell the house.” Lydia rested her head lightly on the table. She could feel the emotions bubbling up in her eyes, but she wasn’t willing to cry just yet.

She straightened up, sniffling back her tears and swallowing the sob in her throat. She lingered for a moment in silence, watching the dust particles swirl around the model town. Her gaze, initially soft, allowing herself to be at ease watching everything blur, suddenly sharpened. A vivid neon red light flickered on in the model, casting eerie patterns across her face. A soundless gasp escaped her as she saw Betelgeuse’s gravestone had materialized, and above it, a marquee sign surrounded by bulbs flashing in a captivating chase illuminated the words: "I'm still here, Lydia." Panicked, Lydia yanked a sheet over the model, turned off the lights, and rushed out of the attic, locking the door behind her before bolting down the stairs.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #betelgeuse #lydia deetz #astrid deetz #delia deetz #charles deetz #winona ryder #catherine o'hara #jenna ortega #michael keaton #fanfiction #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice fic #fic #the maitlands

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laszlovz · 5 months ago

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Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz, Explicit, 4.8k words, post-canon

Lydia can't sleep and Betelgeuse puts himself up to the task of helping her relax.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #lydia x beetlejuice #beetlebabes #fanfiction #beej x lyds #fic #michael keaton #winona ryder

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elizabethcrumb · 2 months ago

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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Beetlejuice (Movies) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz Characters: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice), Lydia Deetz, Astrid Deetz, Bob (Beetlejuice) Additional Tags: Book 2 of 2, Post-Canon, post - beetlejuice beetlejuice, Dreams and Nightmares, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, beetlejuice (1988) mentions, Sexual Content, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice) Played by Michael Keaton, Drama, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, beetlejuice beetlejuice spoilers maybe Series: Part 2 of Past and Future Summary:

Book 2 to book called 'Past Lives' - This story takes place after Beetlejuice and the black plague events/Delores and goes into (Post Beetlejuice Beetlejuice) - Beetlejuice keeps coming to Lydia, hoping she'll remember her past life as 'Isabella' the love of his life. Will she finally remember it all or will she reject him?

@lulujozeenovak @itsaship-literally @tondw0o @betelgeusing @yaztheangel @bd-z @freshlyjuicedbeetles @fanfic-she-wrote @sad-puppet-show @starrycotton-faves @lexikenobi30 @fandom-shipping-bi-addict

#beetlejuice #beetlebabes #beetlelyds #beetlejuice fanfiction #adult fanfiction #beetlejuice x lydia #smut and fluff #beetlejuice 2 #michael keaton beetlejuice #Lizrenknight on A03 #elizabethcrumb on wattpad #writers on tumblr

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liquidloz · 4 months ago

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Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Desperate Measures (1998) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Peter McCabe/Reader Characters: Peter McCabe, Reader Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Gun Fucking, Bad Guy Kink, Villain Kink, no beta we die like men Summary:

Peter McCabe wants the cyclopropane, and something else… (Peter McCabe x Reader fic where the reader is in place of Dr Hawkins)

I haven’t written for 13 years (eek) since the days of livejournal - ha what a throwback 😂 so sorry if this is garbage but I can’t get this man out of my head.

inspired by @the--blackdahlia

#michael keaton #desperate measures #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #pwp #peter mccabe #this is a michael keaton thirst account

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sandworm-laaannnddddd · 3 days ago

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Beetlejuice wattpad au

in this au, Beej and Lyds are both potential love interests for y/n

EVERYBODY IS THE SAME AGE AND 18. Beej is a human but still has his powers!

we are adopted by the maitlands and there will be various references to the movie, other musicals, and the cartoon!

Chapters are not scheduled and posted whenever I can post. Please do not spam my accounts because you want me to post faster, but a comment asking for a new part or saying you want more is completely fine and I love reading comments on my fanfics!!

SPOILERS START**

We get to see a little of Beej as a raccoon!! OTHO TEACHES AT YOUR COLLEGE!! :3

SPOILERS END**

if anybody is interested, link will be in the comments to my alt acc that I'm posting it on currently!!1!

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theone-andonly-alexpkeaton · 2 years ago

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Hey, so I've currently started a fanfiction based off of a super old roleplay I did like ten or eleven years ago.

It's a Back to the Future/Family Ties crossover.

I didn't want to post it on here until I got a good dent in, so considering I just posted the tenth chapter today, I guess I'll share it here 😊

It's titled The Power of Love and my username is michie1997, I've got it over on ao3

#michael j fox #family ties #alex p keaton #back to the future #fanfic #fanfiction #crossover #marty mcfly #jennifer parker #ellen reed

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myveryownfanfiction · 5 months ago

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: slight sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), swearing, saying the wrong name during sex, Beetlejuice

AN: I know I'm a day late but this works out anyway so Happy (late) 73rd Birthday Michael Keaton!

I panted as VA thrust into me, head buried in my neck as he kissed and sucks along the skin there.

“(Y/N).” He moaned as I tilted my head back. VA ground against me as he pulled back to look at me. “I’m gonna cum. Cum for me. You need to cum first.” I nodded as he thrust hard into me.

“Beetlejuice!” I screamed as I came. VA grunted as he came, collapsing on me as his arms gave out. “Oh fuck VA.” I breathed out as he kissed his way to my lips. “That was…that was…” he hummed against my lips.

“yeah that was.” He chuckled, pulling out and moving to my side. VA pulled me into his arms, making sure to put my head on his chest. I hummed happily as I traced circles over his heart. “Who was that you were calling out for?” VA was looking over in the corner, smirking slightly.

"shit." I muttered. "Look. I'm sorry I said my ex's name during sex." VA hummed and rubbed my back.

"Three times." VA said. I pulled back to look up at him.

"Three times?" I asked, eyebrows shooting up. VA nodded, gently turning me so I could see who was sitting in the corner.

"Three times." Beetlejuice said, smirking at me. "Hi sweets. Long time no see." I gasped and jumped back, hitting VA in the chest. VA chuckled as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "I gotta say when you left me, I didn't think you'd shack up with someone who looks like me. Let alone me when I was living. Let alone you'd shack up with the living." I rolled my eyes.

"Come on Juice." I groaned. "Get outta here."

"Why should I?" He asked, getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed. "I get a free show and I get to see the love of my life again." He laid down, head dangerously close to my legs. "Come on sweets. Give me another chance. What do ya say?" I shoved him away with my foot.

"What do I say?" I asked. Beetlejuice nodded. "I say..." Beetlejuice's smile grew and VA smirked at me before kissing my head. "Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice. Beetlejuice!" Beetlejuice disappeared with a pop and VA pulled me back to his chest. "Next time you catch me saying that, stop me." I said as I reached up to run my fingers through VA's hair.

"I'll do my best." He chuckled. "But you have to admit, he is kind of fun."

"Wait...how long was he watching?" I asked, horror creeping over my face. VA just laughed before rolling back on top of me for another round.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice imagine #VA vandervere #VA vandervere x reader #VA vandervere fanfic #VA vandervere fanfiction #VA vandervere imagine #michael keaton #michael keaton x reader #michael keaton fanfic #michael keaton fanfiction #michael keaton imagine

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the--blackdahlia · 3 months ago

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Storytime (Beetlejuice x Reader)

Title: Storytime

Summary: From this prompt list: #8 Ah, unrequited love. When your best isn’t enough. and #13: You aren’t really a good person, but god damn, you make bad look awesome.

Warnings: None

Beetlejuice was sunbathing on the roof of what was the town hall. Well, not really sunbathing, and the town hall was one of Adam’s models. He mainly liked to lay there and spy on you as you did things around the attic. He also liked watching what you were doing, even when he was the size of a Micro Machine. Today, you were sitting on that ugly couch, reading a book. A breeze blew through the attic. You hung up there when the Maitland’s and the Deetz’s were doing things downstairs. Despite being welcomed into their home, you just never felt you belonged.

Maybe that’s what the ghost with the most was attracted to. You were a loner, just like him.

“What are you reading?” He spoke up from his place on top of the building. Though his voice was small, you could still hear him.

“The Great Gatsby,” You replied, not even shocked by his presence anymore.

“Ah, unrequited love,” He chuckled a little, sitting up to watch you. “When your best isn’t enough.”

“You know that’s not what this book is about, right?”

“Isn’t it though?”

You put a bookmark in your book before going over to the model. You sat so you could see him. Book discussions with him were actually quite enjoyable. While he hadn’t read many of the more modern titles, he could talk for hours about old classics. And you really didn’t mind listening to him drone on and on about what Steinbeck was actually talking about.

“Well, I know that’s a theme, but isn’t the whole thing about consumerism in the 1920s? How status can be easily gained or lost?”

“All I know babes, is that Fitz put a lot of work into it and was upset when it flopped.”

“You knew F. Scott Fitzgerald?”

“I’ve been around 600 years. I think the list of people I’ve met would easily fill this house,” He looked so smug about it. You never knew if his stories were real or not, but he was a good storyteller anyway.

“Well, why don’t you tell me more?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Met Dillenger and Capone. Typhoid Mary was a wild girl. John Wilkes Booth had a screw or two loose.”

“You aren’t really a good person, but god damn, you make bad look awesome,” You watched his smile get bigger.

“Aww babes, you flatter me,” He stood up. “Why don’t you say my name? We could discuss more. I could tell you stories until you fall asleep.” He watched you ponder it for a bit before you smiled at him.

“Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice,” He lit up and clapped his hands.

“It’s showtime!”

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #michael keaton #fanfiction #reader insert

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foxhotbox · 1 month ago

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My first Beetlejuice fanfic is complete!

Possession

Rating: Explicit

Words: 9,616

Tags: Sub Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice), Soft Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice), Hair-pulling, Oral Fixation, Praise Kink, Jealousy, Spit Kink, Dom Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice), Smoking, Cigarettes, Bondage, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Masturbation

A lil snippet:

"C'mon, babes..." he protests. Annoyed.

"I know you liked it, Beej, even if you deny it," you insist. For a moment you see a spark of hunger flash over his face, before he closes his eyes in defeat again.

You feel icy hands snaking their way up your shirt. You don't want to stop him, but you can't help wanting to see how long you can tease him before he snaps. You gently place your hands over his, stopping him just short of your breasts.

His brow furrows and his eyes flicker open, instantly focused on you, with such intense and sudden rage that you feel your heart stop. His mouth twists into a snarl as he plants both hands on your shoulders and aggressively forces you to fall backward. The fall happens so suddenly that you don't even process the pain of your body smacking onto the hardwood floor. Beetlejuice crouches over you, roughly snatching each of your arms and tucking them under each of his knees bent on either side of you. His full weight on your wrists is excruciating and you attempt to free yourself to no avail, the once silky fabric of his suit now feeling coarse like wool.

"You really know how to piss me off, kid..." he grunts at you.

You want to protest but only terrified gasps have escaped your throat so far. You suddenly feel like the dumbest girl alive, having pushed his buttons one too many times, always relying on his fondness for you to spare you of his wrath.

The air is colder than you've ever felt in this room, a biting freeze that send goosebumps all over you. His eyes are burrowing into you, a sinister expression you haven't felt directed at you in a long time. You feel genuine fear spreading through you, and can't help your baser instinct to buck and wiggle beneath him in a futile attempt to break loose.

He closes his eyes, lets out a nasty chuckle and growls his words at you, "...you have any idea how hard I'm gettin', feelin' you squirm like that?"

Keep reading on Ao3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61704196/chapters/157736212

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤

#beetlejuice #im honestly dying for comments on ao3 🫠 they give me liiiife #lydia deetz #beetlebabes #michael keaton #betelgeuse #beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice x lydia #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice fanfiction

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addie-sanchez · 2 years ago

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Hi, Addie. Want to say that I really like your blog. And I'm also a fan of Beetlejuice and a shipper of Beetlejuice and Lydia. Have you heard the news about a possible Beetlejuice sequel with Jenna Ortega? What do you think about it? Personally, I hope for a preserved atmosphere and BeetleBabes moments. And I don't know yet if I want to see Ortega there, although I liked her Wednesday.

Hi! Thank you for the ask, it's my first time hehe ❤️

Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about Jenna in the series as it's possible she will be playing daughter of Lydia, that means there won't be any betelbabes moments I'm afraid.

Also I haven't watched Wednesday.

I have no idea how they want to move forward with the series, I hope it will be at least good. I will watch it for sure just for Michael Keaton, I'm sure he'll be amazing as always.

Although, I think betelbabes never will be canon in a movie, so all we have left are awesome ffs!

#beetlejuice #fanfiction #beteleguse #betelbabes #michael keaton #young winona #winona ryder #jenna ortega #betelgeuse

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ericac318 · 2 years ago

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A Reunion in the Multiverse

Summary:

Batgirl (Haisley Wilson) thought she lost Batman when they fought Reverb together. Things aren’t always the way they seem, though.She learns this when two Barry Allen’s show up in her ‘universe’ looking for Batman to help fix a mistake they made. This story goes along with the new Flash movie. I used all the information available for the movie so far along with all my DC knowledge. Batman x OC

Chapter 4

The following morning, the group reconvened in the Batcave to finalize their plan to take down Zod and get everyone back where they belong.

“Ok, let’s go over this one more time,” Bart began, “I just want to make sure everybody knows their part.”

Thomas acknowledged Bart’s idea as he explained, “We’ll all be equipped with comms to communicate with each other during the battle,” he passed them around before continuing. “Kara will summon Zod to a location outside of the city to lessen the chance of innocent casualties. Once he arrives with his army, Barry and I will join and try to broker peace which we all know won’t happen. After the fighting begins, Bart and Bruce’ll enter the scene. From a distance, Haisley will control my drones to take out as many of Zod’s soldiers as possible. The drones will fail at some point and she’ll get in on the action. Barry, Bart, and Kara will use their collective speed to get Zod’s crystal and destroy it. Understood?” he looked at each member of the team.

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Haisley replied as the rest of the group nodded. She glanced at Kara, “I guess you’re up,” she added as she wished her new friend luck.

Kara disappeared leaving the others to wait for her signal to move to the next phase of the plan.

“Thomas and Barry, you’re up!” Kara’s voice came in through their comms.

Barry nodded as he grabbed Thomas and flashed him to the meeting location. Once they were gone, the others left the Batcave and got into their respective positions.

“Be careful,” Bruce whispered to Haisley before he left her with her tablet and rooftop full of drones.

She gave him a playful wink, “You too, old man,” causing him to roll his eyes.

The peace talks went as well as could be expected. Haisley waited until she saw Bruce and Bart enter the scene before she launched the drones. She used the single tablet to control the many tiny machines sending them smashing into Zod’s soldiers while the others worked on the speed of the confusion plan.

Haisley kept an eye on the others while she was controlling the drones and things were not looking great down below.

Barry and Bart were running circles around Zod but each time one tried to make a move, he was able to thwart them.

Haisley was able to watch both the drones and her team until she noticed Bruce get a hold of Zod’s power source. Her breath was caught in her chest as she watched the two men struggle for control of the item. Zod was much stronger than Bruce.

Zod turned his lightning cipher until the point was inches away from Bruce’s chest causing her to look away and focus on her task. She couldn’t afford to let them fail for her own selfishness.

She risked glancing down again after taking down another soldier just in time to see Kara intervene and separate Bruce and Zod allowing Haisley to take a deep breath.

Kara was able to wrestle the item away from Zod but it was dropped in the process causing a mad dash among all parties involved to grab it.

Haisley didn’t notice that one of Zod’s soldiers had found her position until he had her in the air with his hand wrapped around her throat.

“How dare you try and interfere with the great work of General Zod,” the soldier chastized as he stepped forward until she was over the edge of the building. “Good luck, little bat,” he mocked her as he let her go.

Haisley tried to use her grappling hook but it wouldn’t launch. She inhaled sharply as she braced herself for impact with the ground below.

The crash never came, though. Instead, she found herself in Bruce’s arms. He’d used his own grappling hook to get to her before anything bad could happen.

He lowered them both to the ground where he placed his hand gently on her cheek, even with all the chaos going on around them, “I thought I told you to be safe.”

“I tried,” she replied innocently. “Should we get back into it?” she asked with a playful wink before she got on her tiptoes and stole a kiss.

“We might as well,” he responded as the couple jumped back into action, fighting hand to hand along with Thomas while Barry, Bart, and Kara used their speed to race for the lightning cipher.

“I’ve got it!” Barry yelled suddenly causing Bart to prepare to throw lightning at it while Kara and the others held back Zod and his minions.

“Hurry!” Haisley screamed out as she took a hit to the back of her knees dropping her to the ground, instantly. She was back up in less than a second continuing the battle as she hoped whatever the two Flashs were up to was going to work.

Bart threw a lightning bolt at Barry, more specifically the cipher causing it to shatter into a million pieces.

Kara flew into action and grasped the pieces speeding them across multiple different Earths while Zod crumbled under Thomas’ latest strike.

The soldiers stopped their attacks once they saw their leader fall.

“I can’t believe the plan worked,” Bart stated as he and Barry moved to join Bruce, Haisley, and Thomas where they stood over Zod.

Bruce’s lips curled into a cocky half grin, “A well-executed plan will never let you down even against the evilest villains.”

Kara returned a few moments later ready to take Zod back to her Earth where he would face the judgment of his people. “Thank you for your help with him,” she stated, gratefully.

“No, thank you for coming to help,” Barry responded, “This entire thing is all my fault.”

Thomas glanced at Barry, “We all make mistakes, kid. Don’t beat yourself up too much. However, now that this is over, I can go back to being Bruce and you can bring these two back to their home,” he gestured toward Bruce and Haisley.

Haisley smiled, “I’m happy to go back home. Thomas, you may want to look for a Batgirl for yourself. This crime-fighting lifestyle can get lonely,” she added as she felt Bruce’s arm wrap around her waist, pulling her close against his strong body.

“I prefer to work alone,” Thomas stated, “However, I’ll take your suggestion under advisement.”

“Bart, you can get yourself home, right?” Barry began as he looked at his new group of friends that he would probably never see again.

Bart nodded as he waved to everyone before disappearing casing Kara to do the same, taking Zod and his remaining soldiers with her.

“Are you two ready to go?” Barry asked as he turned away from Thomas to face Bruce and Haisley.

The couple nodded as they waved to Thomas before Barry zoomed them back to their Earth. The room stopped spinning and they were back in their Batcave but Barry was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s certainly good to be back,” Bruce stated as he started taking off his suit, “I really never believed I’d see this place or you again after what Reverb did,” he lamented.

Haisley followed his lead as she began removing her own suit and changing into her training sweats, “The past three months were the worst of my life. But, that’s over now and you’re back. However, I have a question for you?” she teased as she moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. He was shirtless as he’d only been able to pull on his sweatpants. She loved the feel of his warm skin against her.

“What’s your question, kid?” he replied as he pulled out of her grasp so he could turn around and face her, pulling her back into his embrace.

She placed a gentle kiss on his chest before she continued, “Are you sure retirement is what you want? Fighting crime alone for the past three months was pretty terrible. It’s not that I can’t handle it but I don’t want to do it without you by side,” she added while wearing an innocent expression, one she knew he found extremely adorable.

Bruce leaned down and took her lips with his own, the kiss laced with passion before he released her and stared into her blue eyes. “Retirement is something that I once wanted. But, after what we’ve been through over the past two days, I don’t think it is anymore. I’m still Batman, babe.”

His reply caused her to let out a squeal of excitement. “Now, that that’s settled,” she began before moving her lips to his ear so she could whisper, “Why don’t you take me upstairs so we can get back to our regular training sessions.”

Haisley’s inquiry caused Bruce to let out a soft chuckle before he scooped her into his arms, bridal style, “There’s nothing on this or any other Earth I’d rather do more.”

The End

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