The Littlest Wayne: Air Jail

Broken heart

The rain tapped quietly against the tall windows of Wayne Manor.

But inside, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Not peaceful. Not warm.

Just… hollow.

You’d been brought here when you were thirteen.

After your mother died, Bruce took you in.

His real daughter.

Blood.

No one could say you didn’t belong here.

And yet, every single day since you walked through the doors of this grand mansion…

You felt like a stranger in your own story.

There was no welcome.

No warmth.

Only rooms that were too big, silences that were too loud, and people who were too busy to look.

Bruce gave you a bedroom, not a family.

A last name, not a father.

He told you he was "doing his best."

But he never looked you in the eye.

He never asked what your favorite food was.

Or if you had trouble sleeping.

Or if your chest hurt again.

Because it did.

It always did.

Your heart condition had followed you your whole life.

Weak rhythms, shortness of breath, chest pain.

Stress made it worse.

Loneliness made it unbearable.

But no one noticed.

Or maybe they just didn’t care enough to ask.

Dick smiled at you.

He was always smiling.

But it never reached his eyes.

You sat next to him one afternoon, hoping for connection.

He barely looked up from his phone.

“Bored?” he asked.

You didn’t answer.

And he didn’t wait.

He left.

Jason ignored you.

He didn’t mean to be cruel—he just didn’t see you.

One night you collapsed near the stairs.

He found you.

But instead of asking if you were okay, he muttered,

“What are you doing on the floor?”

Like it was your fault.

Like your body betraying you was inconvenient.

He helped you up.

But he never looked at you.

And still... you said “thank you.”

Because at least someone touched you.

Tim barely knew when you entered a room.

You could be sitting across from him, and he’d still be more focused on his laptop than your pale face, your shaking hands.

One night, your breathing grew shallow—fast, unsteady.

You curled up in the corner, struggling.

He was there.

Headphones on. Typing.

You nearly passed out at his feet.

And he never noticed.

Damian hated you.

At least he was honest about it.

To him, you were weak.

Pathetic.

A waste of space.

“You can’t even hold your own weight,” he said one afternoon when you dropped a glass.

The truth was, your hands were trembling.

But he didn’t care.

He walked away while your heart pounded like a ticking time bomb inside your chest.

No one followed.

No one stayed.

You started keeping painkillers hidden in your drawer.

Not because they helped—

but because pretending to take them felt like pretending someone gave a damn.

You started writing letters you never sent.

Journals filled with

“Would they notice if I died?”

“Does it matter?”

Then came the night it finally broke you.

Your vision blurred.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t scream.

You reached for your phone—

but the battery was dead.

Your fingers fumbled.

No one heard.

No one came.

You passed out.

---+--+---------------+-------+-------_---------------

When you woke up, everything was white.

The hospital smelled like bleach and cold air.

Alfred was there.

He looked shaken.

Bruce came later.

He stood by your bed.

Silent.

Eyes unreadable.

And then he said,

“When did it get this bad?”

You almost laughed.

Because it had always been this bad.

But you had never been worth his full attention.

--------------------------------------------------------

Now, lying in a hospital bed, you stared at the ceiling and whispered,

“I didn’t want help. I just wanted to be seen.”

But the damage was done.

---+-------------------------------------------------

Maybe now they’d care.

Maybe now they’d feel guilty.

Maybe now someone would look at you and really see you.

But maybe it was too late.

Your heart was fragile—

and not just because of your condition.

-----------------------------------------------------------

End.

(Or maybe… just the beginning.)

English is not my native language

Yandere batfam x Catwoman!Reader

Gotham was never kind to strays.

Selina used to tell you that, back when you were small enough to curl up in her lap, listening to the city’s heartbeat.

"No one gives a damn about a stray, kitten—unless they can own it. And once they’re done? They throw it away."

She wasn’t wrong.

When she left, Bruce took you in.

Not because he wanted to. But because you were Selina Kyle’s daughter, and that meant something.

You weren’t a Robin. You weren’t a Wayne. You weren’t even a sidekick.

You were just… there.

Ignored. Forgotten. Overlooked.

Until you left.

And suddenly, they were obsessed.

Alfred was the closest thing you had to a father.

When Bruce was too busy? He was there. When Dick forgot you existed? He remembered. When Jason dismissed you? He encouraged you. When Tim ignored you? He listened. When Damian sneered? He scolded him.

He was the one who made sure you ate. The one who noticed when you were gone too long. The one who never made you feel like an outsider.

"You deserve more, Miss (Y/N)," he said once, handing you a cup of tea in the dead of night.

"More than them."

You should’ve listened to him sooner.

Dick was all smiles and promises—until it came to you.

"You're part of the family, (Y/N)! You can count on me."

And yet, he never did.

He was too busy being Gotham’s sweetheart. Too busy playing the perfect son. Too busy charming the entire city to even notice you existed.

But the second you walked away?

Suddenly, he was watching.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were unhappy?"

You scoffed. "Oh? I didn’t realize you could see past your own reflection long enough to notice."

Jason made sure you knew you weren’t one of them.

"You’re just a spoiled alley cat, living off scraps."

He ignored you unless he needed someone to argue with. Mocked you when Bruce gave you even a little attention.

But when you left?

He was furious.

Breaking bones for info. Watching from rooftops. Glowering at every man who so much as glanced your way.

"You wanna tell me what the hell you’re doing, flaunting yourself around Gotham like that?"

"Aww, Jay, you sound jealous."

"Tch. Keep dreaming, kitten."

Tim was always too busy.

He never even looked at you when you were in the room. Too lost in his screens, too obsessed with cases, too wired on caffeine to care.

But the second you left?

He had every camera in Gotham tracking you.

"You’re reckless," he muttered, catching you outside a gala, staring as men practically fell over themselves to get your attention.

You sipped your champagne. "And you’re obsessed. Funny how that works."

Damian loathed you.

"You are nothing but a thief, unworthy of my father’s resources."

"Cats are not loyal creatures. You will betray us."

"You are an embarrassment to the family."

But when you left?

He became your shadow.

"You cannot hide from me, (Y/N)."

You laughed, flipping off the nearest security camera. "Not hiding, baby bat. Just don’t wanna be found."

Barbara barely tolerated you when you lived in the manor.

"Stay out of my way, (Y/N). This is real crime-fighting."

But once you left?

Bruce became obsessed. The boys started chasing you. Even criminals whispered your name like a legend.

And Barbara was seething.

"He’s only worried about you because of Selina," she sneered once.

"Oh? That why you’re mad?" you hummed, inspecting your nails. "Because he never chased after you?"

She didn’t speak to you for months after that.

Stephanie always mocked you for being a “spoiled alley cat.”

"What, you think you’re Gotham’s princess now?"

But suddenly?

The men she flirted with were too busy staring at you.

You barely had to lift a finger before men were offering you drinks, pulling out chairs, tripping over themselves for a second of your attention.

And Stephanie?

She hated it.

"What, you think you’re better than us now?" she snapped once.

You smiled sweetly. "Honey, I don’t think. I know."

At first, it was just messages.

"Come home." "You don’t have to do this." "This isn’t how family treats each other."

Then, the sightings.

Jason breaking kneecaps for intel. Damian lurking in the shadows. Dick trying to “talk” on rooftops. Tim hacking into your every account.

And Bruce.

Bruce, who was always watching.

You felt it before you saw him.

A shift in the air. A silence too loud.

You turned.

There he was.

No mask. No cape. Just Bruce Wayne, standing in the alley like he could already see you locked in the manor again.

"Enough, (Y/N). This game is over."

You smirked. "Aww, Bats. You finally noticed me?"

"Come home."

"Let me think… no."

His jaw clenched. "I won’t ask again."

"And I won’t say no again. But hey, at least now you care, right? Only took me leaving for that to happen."

He moved fast—too fast. But you were faster, slipping from his grasp like silk.

"You can’t run forever."

"I don’t have to."

You grinned, stepping into the shadows as a familiar figure emerged from the darkness behind you.

Long legs. A knowing smirk. A whip coiled at her hip.

"Kitten," Selina purred, eyes glinting like gold. "Time to come home."

Bruce stiffened.

Because for the first time—

It wasn’t his home you were going to.

It never was.

And it never would be.

And the Batfamily?

They would never recover from losing what was never theirs to begin with.

I don't know if you write for Jackie but she's so pookie so Imma send it

Imagine like, loser!Jackie having the biggest crush on the reader and just being a mess trying to be confident around them to impress them, but just failing at that (reader is obviously endeared with this type of behaviour from Jackie)

loser behavior - Jackie Taylor

—

“She’s staring at you again”, your friend spoke to you as your eyes trailed to her.. Jackie Taylor The yellowjackets captian.. she has been staring at you for the whole hour she was to distracted by you. .. you knew what she was doing, ''you should try and talk to her'', shaking your head before you tried to speak the bell rang for the next class.your math class wasnt so bad but jackie was sitting next to you. ''hey did you know im the captain of the yellowjackets'' she tried to impress you her eyes looking into your, laughing at her and smiled at her, ''i know Jackie'' smiling at the captain, she was the biggest loser and you loved it.

Jackie Taylor was once again looking at you she watched everything you did write,laugh,walk… man you were a real life Disney character — she was in a trance.. your eyes trailed to Jackie who was staring at you again, “hm?” Humming at her Jackie blushed at you and played with her hands nervously, it wasn’t the first time she was near you - quiet for a moment she opened her mouth trying to find the right words to say to you. ''your boobs are nice'' fuck did she just say that to you.. ''huh?'' tilting your head at jackie.. she was a nervous wreck right now ''i mean do you wanna go hang out after school its kinda like a datebutiwouldntmindijustwantedtoaskyou'' nodding at her laughing ''sure i would love to jackie see ya after school'' you had left class leaving jackie alone in her thoughts who was cheering in victory like the gay loser she is

housewife jackie with a butch reader thoughts?

loves dressing up for you... ive said this in probably every housewife jackie thought but it's true!! even if it's just her grabbing your shirt to put on for a lazy afternoon, she loves watching your eyes light up in recognition and when you compliment how good she looks ^^ likes the simple act of dressing up for a date. likes how you guys end up matching sometimes even when it wasn't planned. loves helping you get dressed, she's always got a gummy smile on her face as she buttons your shirt or ties your tie or smooths out your jacket that she steals at the end of the night.

jackie who loves when you get in touch with your feminine side in your own way :( you help her get in touch with her masculine side and it's just a great bonding experience 😊

she's a.....i dont even know what texter. not a double texter, not a triple texter, but a hundred texter. literally sends you so many texts throughout the day of random things like what she's doing or how much she misses you or selfies of her hand with new rings on it cause she's shopping 😁 you love it. it can get annoying when ur at work and keep getting out ur phone every 5 seconds because she's such a fast responder (only for you), but she makes you smile so much.

running your hands through jackie's hair as you give her a hot bath, taking care of her after she took care of you. gently scrubbing her body and massaging her legs because she was on her feet all day (so were you, but this is your girl! she deserves it more.

shy!butch!reader who appreciates when jackie talks for them in public :) always walking into shops first so you're not the center of attention, always being the one to ask questions to the clerk, always holding your hand and gently telling you to lead the way, or even leading it for you. butch with anxiety who always needs to talk with jackie before a phone call, going over what to say, and jackie who reassures you that it's gonna be fine, and even offers to write down prompts or something in case you forget what to say :(

possessive!jackie and butch who's awkward with affection :) she's always tugging you closer in public. she's the femme who hugs you from behind and places kisses on your ear in checkout lanes... she loves how you tense up and flush when she grabs your hand, loves how you can barely make eye contact with her when she's close to your face and kisses you, loves how you're so awkward when trying to show her how much you love her but you can't get the words out because she's so pretty and you just don't know what to say. it's worse in public because she thinks everyone wants you... she needs your eyes on HERS, and will use her finger to move your chin so you're facing her instead of left (ur just nervous 😭). she's always playin' footsie under tables and reaching across said table to rub your arm as you guys eat together. i think her favorite thing is when she verbally gets possessive and says some shit that makes you snort or choke on your food/drink.

Marshmallow Miles

summary: prompt fill. Wally needs to get the hell out of Split River. thankfully, he finds the perfect excuse and takes you along for the ride. (request)

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut lite. fluff. AU - everybody is alive (zesty). lore established offscreen. same 'verse as Cuddle Bug.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧁

Marshmallow Miles

Wally spent the last 40 years haunting the high school. Then spent the last few months within the town limits, adjusting to being a regular student while he got his second chance at life organized. Principal Hartman, Ms. Chung, and Mrs. Moretz—the guidance counselor—banded together to help the formerly-dead reacclimate, and part of that means they all need to graduate.

Except, obviously, Mr. Martin, who Sheriff Baxter's keeping a tight leash on. Or Janet, wherever the hell she is.

Point being, Wally and his friends are still tethered to the place they hate most in the world. Even if there is a light at the end of the tunnel this time, they don't get to enjoy it until they walk across the stage, diplomas in hand.

Which means Wally? Is feeling somewhat-very claustrophobic. Skin too tight, walls closing in, suffocated and nauseous at the thought of having to spend another goddamn second in the town that killed him.

It's as he's listening to you, hanging onto your every word like psalms, that the idea strikes. Light. Bulb. Wausau? Claire's stepdad's ski lodge? You don't say!

He knows your birthday's coming up (Simon made sure to stick post-it notes in every single one of Wally's text- and notebooks to remind him) and he's been fretting over what to do for weeks. But this? This is it! Not only will Wally be able to celebrate you the way you deserve, doing something you seem genuinely keen on, he'll be able to put Split River in the rearview for a whole week.

Is it a little selfish to use your birthday as an excuse to escape? Kind of, sort of, maybe. But he's desperate to find out if he can have a life beyond this. Beyond Split River High and Number 57 and tragedy and discombobulating rise-agains. And the only person he wants to find anything out with, well, is you.

It's two-birds-one-stone, honestly, and don't you always praise his efficiency? Hell yeah, you do. His biggest fan. Besides, he will dote on you, treat you right, make you feel like the center of the universe because you are. At least, you're the center of his, and that's why he has to do this. To prove there's a future with him that has more potential than cultivating small town syndrome.

You catch him grinning that dopey little grin he gets when he's thinking about surprising you, but Maddie distracts you before you can question it. Which gives Wally the rest of lunch to plot into his tater tots.

Thank you, Maddie. Best wingwoman ever.

‗•‗

The plan comes together seamlessly. Everyone pitches in to help bring Wally's vision to life. Claire gives him the keys to her stepdad's lodge. Maddie and Charley morally support Wally as he shops for warm clothes in your size that he can smuggle in his own luggage so you stay in the dark for as long as possible.

Nicole and Rhonda, the unlikeliest of best buds, drag him into The Body Shop and Victoria's Secret—"imagine a romantic bubble bath after skiing all day?" Nicole coos. "Imagine undressing her on a bearskin rug in front of a fire." Rhonda smirks around her new vape.

That's. Really. All the convincing Wally needs to make a dent in the allowance Rodney gives him.

Wally even swallows his pride, puts on his most charming smile, and asks Xavier for his truck. He knows the only reason Xavier agrees is because it's for you, but still, a win is a win. With a general, "hurt her and I'll rip your balls off," from your platonic soulmate, Wally joyfully departs. Tosses the keys in the air and catches them, his chest feeling lighter than it has in decades.

Everything is packed in the truck and ready to go the night before. He called you earlier to impart the vaguest of instructions as to what you should bring, proud of himself for not giving anything away too soon. Even when you asked in that silly-sweet voice, pouting on the screen like a princess, "Please? At least give me a hint!"

No. No hints.

Like a child on Christmas, Wally can barely sleep, he's so excited, but he manages a few hours. Dreams of the world beyond Split River as if he's setting off on some grand adventure and not just driving a 3.5 hour span of state highway.

Tomorrow, Wally will experience a first. Something that was so far out of reach there was no point entertaining it because all it led to was disappointment and regret. Instead there were years upon years of distractions. Mock Trials and obituaries and looking at his feet when he should've looked back.

Wally sometimes wonders if those missed opportunities weren't the yellow brick road that brought him to you. Everyone else walked through The Door with him, but there's no sign of Dawn who crossed over. If Mr. Martin didn't do what he did, Wally might've moved on, and you and he wouldn't exist...

His heart lurches in his chest.

No sense ruminating. You have him. He has you. That's all that matters now. And tomorrow, Wally will have his first real taste of freedom with the only person he wants to share that moment with.

It's going to be perfect.

‗•‗

Wally picks you up just after sunrise. You're grumpy and sleepwarm and, Jesus, Wally loves you. Pouting at him like he's both a menace and your savior. Arms up, lower lip jutted out, a sweet demand of carry me before you slump into his embrace and force him to take your weight. Which he does, easily, big grin on his face as he toddler-carries you to the passenger side of Xavier's truck.

He bundles you in, sets you up with the softest blanket Claire found at Target—Yuri and Ajay not doing their jobs as devil's advocate at all as the cart filled up with Claire's suggestions. Honestly, Wally doesn't care. Especially not after your eyes brighten as you run your fingers over it, wiggling happily in your seat.

"You cozy, babygirl?" He asks as soon as he's behind the wheel and the smile you give him makes him fucking melt.

"You got me a blanket." You state, tucking yourself in more securely; shoes off, feet up, elbow on the console so you can lean over it and kiss Wally's cheek. "Thank you."

Wally blushes, he can't help it, and shrugs as if it's nothing. "I got you a bunch of things, baby," he says as he starts the truck, "Just wait and see. You're gonna feel like a princess, I promise."

You slip your hand into his, fingers laced, and he rests them on your thigh as he drives. Down the street, turn left, continue to the intersection of Main and 4th. Right on 4th, all the way to the end and then left on Pine. Drive until the highway onramp. Now Leaving Split River, We'll Miss You!

Oh God... Wally's heart pounds, blood rushing in his ears. This feels bigger than his first step off school property. Bigger than feeling air in his lungs and a drum in his chest after being hollow for so long.

Somehow, and Wally doesn't know how, you manage to talk him through pulling over, crawling over the console to plant yourself in his lap. Hands cradling his jaw, you press your forehead against his and guide him away from the edge of a panic attack.

"—got you, Wally, I'm right here, you're okay, shh, you're okay..." The steady cadence of your voice sharpens as his breathing regulates. He's holding you like a lifeline, arms fastened around your waist, heaving great gulps of air as he trembles slightly.

"I'm sorry, baby," He gasps and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Nuh-uh, no apologies, Wally Clark," You say firmly. There's a lull before you chuckle, gentle and kind, "Hey, this was a lot better than the night you first stepped across the school boundary line, right?"

Fuck, that was a mess. However, Wally wasn't alone when that happened. Charley and Rhonda and Yuri, Mr. Martin and Ajay, Mina, they were all there too, equally as overwhelmed. Rhonda threw up on Quinn's shoes. Charley passed all the way out. Yuri and Ajay were fine, fuck them, but Mina just...screamed. And then laughed. Then cried. Then screamed some more, listening to the sound ricochet off the surrounding buildings in a way it wouldn't have days before The Door.

Wally snorts, "Yeah. Sure," and finally peeks up at you. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks that he realizes belatedly feel damp. Is he crying? Weak. But you aren't judging him, simply gazing at him like he hung the moon; you're perfect person, the man you love most, and Wally's chest swells. "We're out of Split River," Wally croaks.

You beam at him, "We're out of Split River."

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River.

‗•‗

After climbing out of the truck to holler into the ether. To chase each other around the Now Leaving sign. To grab you, spin you around and fall into the grass as you and he laugh and laugh and laugh, Wally finally gets the show back on the road.

Once again, he tucks you into your seat, takes your hand, checks his mirrors and then pulls back onto the highway, the town that raised him then witnessed his death becoming a speck in the background with every mile marker you and he pass.

He lifts your hand, grazes a kiss to your knuckles, his eyes on the road and his mind on you and everything he has planned for this trip. At the halfway point, he stops for gas, shadows you as you browse the aisles for exactly the right snacks. Fondly gazes after you the whole time as you make tough decisions: Nerds or Twizzlers? Cookies or chocolate? Wally, do I want a vanilla or butterscotch pudding with my Oreos? Because that's a normal combination, what?

He's absolutely no help at all, too busy mooning over you as you flutter between the fridge and the chest freezer, babbling about how integral to your mood it is to pick the right snack. To cover for the fact that he isn't paying attention, Wally grabs a bag of marshmallows off one of the shelves when you call him out for not listening.

"These." He says, holding the bag up and then glancing at the graham crackers and Hershey's displayed at eye-level. "Maybe these?"

"You wanna make s'mores in the truck?" You ask, dubious.

"No," Wally saves himself, "Just these," and he jiggles the bag of marshmallows. They're the jumbo kind; the kind he used to bet his cousin Dennis to eat five of in one bite or else he couldn't play Wally's Magnavox Odyssey.

You consider the marshmallows for a moment and then, with a decisive nod, "And hot chocolate."

"And hot chocolate," Wally agrees, following you around the shop to the coffee station.

Wally pays for everything, hip-butting you (carefully, no spills) out of the way when you try to pass the cashier your card. He takes the bag and the tray of hot chocolate and still holds the door open for you with his heel. No fucking way is his princess lifting a finger on her birthday-slash-Wally's-freedom trip.

For every mile, you dip a marshmallow in your hot chocolate—dipping Wally's as well and feeding him, giggling when he nips or sucks the gooey sugar from your fingertips. It's silly and sweet and Wally basks in every second of it. Every second of your off-key singing, your trivia answers, your arguments over which is better, Thunderbirds or Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons.

"You know, I have been catching up on TV shows, right?" Wally laughs, "You can use better examples."

"What's wrong with puppets, Wally? Are you a pupaphobist?"

Wally barks a laugh, "That's not a thing!"

"It definitely is a thing," And you wield your phone, flashing Google as Exhibit A. "So? Are you? Just say it, you hate Jim Henson and everything he stood for."

And it's amazing. It's anything and everything and so much more than Wally could've ever hoped for. Even the quiet intervals when the sugar wears off and the early wakeup call catches up to you; your body curled up in your seat awkwardly just so you can angle yourself right to rest your head on the console and place Wally's hand in your hair.

Adorable little diva.

As you doze, Wally watches the scenery drift by, his lungs expanding more and more with every mile he puts between himself and Split River.

Eventually, he turns off the highway and onto the backroads without you noticing a thing. His fingers card through your hair, trace the shape of your jaw and cheek as he absorbs the softness of the moment and tucks it away behind his ribs. Safe and sound, to be pulled out and cherished when he's alone.

When he parks, he's reluctant to wake you. So, he doesn't. Not immediately. Rather, he spends a few minutes just resting himself, sinking down a little in the driver's seat. Then slants sideways, curls over and around you to kiss your ear, cheek, jaw.

He couldn't dim his smile if he tried, enamored when you protest at first, but then sigh, realize where you are and who you're with before groggily chuckling at Wally's antics.

"Surprise, baby girl," He whispers, letting you sit up so you can take in your surroundings.

The look on your face tells Wally he did a good job. The way you tackle him into the inside of his door and kiss him tells him he's going to have to start planning next year's surprise tomorrow, because, fuck yeah, this is exactly the reaction he's looking for.

Getting out of the truck and staring at Claire's stepdad's lodge; at the trees and the snow and the vast expanse of sky, it hits him again like a ton of bricks.

Holy fuck. He's out of Split River!

‗•‗

He doesn't wait to celebrate. As soon as he closes the door behind him, he reels you in, kisses you deep and hungry while you're only halfway out of your jacket. That's okay, he helps you get it the rest of the way off, along with everything else.

"Let me make you feel good, baby," He whispers against your skin, hands everywhere, his hips rolling into yours as he pins you to the wall beside the door. "Let me show you how much I love you..."

Wally kisses you deep, hungry, groaning into your mouth as he keeps grinding his hard cock against you, fuck, you get him going like nothing else. All you have to do is breathe in his direction and his pants tent.

Heat courses through him, curls tight in his belly and flushes outward to his limbs, God, he needs you. Now. Right fucking now, baby, come on. He carries you to the enormous kitchen island, peels your leggings and panties off and has his lips on you and tongue in you faster than you can cry out his name.

"So sweet, baby," He moans into your pussy, panting, not bothering to breathe in his greed for your taste and pleasure. "Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you."

He spears his tongue in and out of you before teasing little circles around your clit, his fingers plunging into you in place of his tongue. Wally could do this all day and never get tired; the sounds you make, the way you writhe and beg for him, Jesus, he can't imagine ever wanting anything else.

Cruel, desperate, he doesn't care what you call it, he stops right as you're about to come, shoves his sweatpants just below his balls and drags your hips off the counter to punch his cock into you. His head falls back as soon as he feels you around him, so tight and hot, "Fuck, yes, baby, so good for me."

And he sets a frenzied pace, unable to keep himself in check now that he has you like this. His fingers dig into your lovehandles, your legs hooked over his elbows. He's grunting, you're mewling your pleasure, and Wally about loses it before you do. But he doesn't. He's better than that, fucks you like a beast until you scream and shake and squirt around his cock.

It's game over after that. No way can he hold on, his body tensing, hips grinding, as he spills deep inside you. Carefully, he sits you more firmly on the counter and leans in to kiss you, soft, sated, a little blissdrunk in the afterglow. Bodies pressed together, slowly recovering, Wally strokes the arches of your cheeks with his thumbs and gives you a muzzy smile.

"You're my whole world, you know that?" He tells you and then captures your lips in a kiss that quickly turns heated, "I'll do anything for you, baby." Fuck, he's already getting worked up again, needs more of you, always needs more. "I'll die all over again if you asked me to."

"Wally..." You gasp when he rocks his hips forward, driving his cock back into you.

It's just after sundown before you and he finally check out what's beyond the open kitchen/living room space, the table and couch and ottoman and, shit, bearskin rug fully christened in sweat and come.

You and he jump on the beds with childlike glee, music blaring on speakers that cost more than Rodney's mortgage. Claire explicitly forbade Wally from using the master suite so, taking that into consideration, that's the first bedroom he fucks you in—from behind, driving his hips forward while he pulls you back against him. What? He'll do the necessary laundry.

If he remembers...

‗•‗

After a supper of haphazardly thrown together and grossly microwaved nachos, Wally snuggles you between his legs on one of the Adirondack chairs outside, under a thick blanket and dressed accordingly in the thermals and sweater and fuzzy socks he secretly bought and brought for you.

The fire pit blazes, the stars above twinkle, and the land around is a peaceful kind of dark. Not the ominous, suffocating dark Wally grew accustomed to in the confines of the school. The comfortable silence between you and him is accentuated by the crackle and pop of the fire, the scene so peaceful, Wally has to wonder if he ever experienced any such feeling before.

His arms tighten around you and he presses a kiss to your cheek from behind, watching the flames dance as you lance another marshmallow on your stick.

Tomorrow is your birthday and he intends to take you skiing. Or, when he knows you'll diplomatically decide to trade skis for slippers, he'll bring you back here at noon and spoil you rotten with presents and a homecooked meal; that bubble bath Nicole suggested (thank you, Nicole), and a long night on that bearskin rug (thank you Rhonda).

It's going to be an incredible week, he assures himself. And on Saturday, the others will arrive while he takes you into the resort town to explore so they can set up your big surprise party. Yuri will grill in a t-shirt, and Charley will force everyone to play '90s boardgames he died too soon to play, and Rhonda will make everyone take shots whenever Wally gives you heart eyes just to watch the messiness unfurl.

Claire will probably reprimand him for fucking in her parents' bedroom, but Wally doesn't care. Because it means he celebrated you right. That you and he had fun. That there's evidence of the fact that, for the first time in 40 years, holy fuck, Wally made it out of Split River!

🧁___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Anxiety.

a smutty flashfic explaining how not. clingy. Wally is even when he thinks you're mad at him but won't tell him why.

Transfem Jackie in the wilderness??

The feeling of you.

Contents: female reader, transfeminine Jackie, angst and comfort, internalized guilt, detailed descriptions of feelings, exploring themes of transexuality, 3rd point of view from Jackie's prespective, vanilla smut, gentlia described vaguely. Not really thought plot.

Words count: 7k/ about 12 pages

Author's note: As you read, this is a transfeminine Jackie oneshot. I wanted to explore themes of self hatred in many ways. Since I am not transexual, I based myself on the expereince someone in my life had to describe various moments in this oneshot. If this might be offensive to anyone, please dm me so I can edit this work. This is the first time in an oneshot where I write full on smut. This might not be very 'sexy' then, so forgive me for that. This oneshot contains vanilla-ish sex, so it might not be everyone's cup of tea. Anon, I'm sorry for the several months long wait, but I wanted to be sure to write something in character for Jackie.

To make reading easier: the italics are charcaters thoughts. First half is from Jackie's 3rd pow and second half (from smut onwards) reader's 3rd pov.

Enjoy everyone!

When you joined the Yellowjackets soccer team, you didn't expect to fall heads over heels with its capitan, Jackie Taylor.

It was a rainy November afternoon when you joined. You had seen Jackie walk around school from time to time, but have never interacted with her this close, for all it was worth, you didn't even know she was the soccer team captain. You joined the team some months after your best friend Vanessa did; she had insisted that it was fun and it would build up your confidence. So, you have joined.

Vanessa had talked about your frail character with Jackie before you joined, telling her that you were insecure in your abilities, so, after the coach had tested you, Jackie choosed to assign you the substitute position of right winger. So, you wouldn't have had to play all the time.

Right before you got introduced to the team, Jackie had talked with you. A look of worry was visible in your eyes and Jackie, even if she didn't know you all that well yet, was slightly worried. For you maybe, yes, but also that you could potentially be more of a burden to the team, if you didn't do well enough. After all, Jackie needs to have as many competent people in her team as she can. You need to grow more confident.

So, she had taken you by the arm and led you to a secluded place right outside of the field's entrance. Jackie had looked up at you and smiled kindly, "Well, are you ready to go?". You had felt incredibly scared and apprehensive that day but when you felt Jackie's hand lightly touch yours, trying to get you out of your head, you felt safe, seen.

That was the first instance of your feelings blooming for Jackie. At every game, she did not ever forget to encourage and praise you for your actions. Even when you didn't perform well, you knew Jackie would always be there to make you feel better.

To her surprise, a year after having joined the team, you were almost a completely different person. Confident, strong and willing to stand up for herself and others. Jackie did have to admit that your change was more than welcome. She could never say it out loud, but whenever she saw you in the changing room, her heart skipped a beat. Of course, Jackie had to maintain her reputation at school.

No one, besides her parents and Shauna, knew that Jackie wasn't who others thought she was. Since she was a child, she had felt like she was missing a core part of herself. It was when she met Shauna that everything changed: with her, Jackie had confessed her worries and secrets and in exchange, got the help to finally become her true self. Her parents weren't as supportive as she thought they were going to be. Sometimes, she saw her mothers sending glances in her direction, which she couldn't decipher as worry or disdain; but she didn't care.

In an attempt to finally convey that image she built of herself, upon entering her new school alongside Shauna, she had seduced Jeff, one of the guys she found less ugly. She wasn't able to fully explore herself before jumping hand in hand with him in the relationship.

The first time and only time she and Jeff have had sex, she didn't dare to make him look. Somewhat, she managed to create an excuse to not strip and only get him off. It was a rather boring and disappointing night. But she hadn't left him, in a way Jackie still felt some kind of odd feeling when she was with him. She couldn't tell if it was love.

This is why she couldn't show herself shy when she was near you. She couldn't risk her image, people would talk if they saw her behaving in a flirtatious way towards you, and Jeff would leave. She knew he was probably cheating on her, but as of right now, she couldn't worry less.

Jackie feels her mind slipping out of consciousness time and time again. She can vaguely feel what is happening near her, bodies bumping on her shoulder and light dimming lower and lower until, behind her eyelids, she can only stare back at the darkness.

Shauna wakes her up, and she's not sure she's completely herself at this point. Her body moves before her mind can process what's happening and just mere seconds later, she falls hard to the forest floor. Just as her cheek comes into hard contact with the naked soil, her mind registers what's happening. Jackie looks behind herself to see something that shakes her to the core and will for the years to come. People, her teammates flooding away from the main entrance of the plane, all gushing out like droplets of the leftover alcohol of the red cup she had drank from last night, at their last party.

Jackie struggles to get back to her feet, her legs giving just as she gets up. Shauna is there, she holds her and runs her fingers on her face, tracing over the bruise that has begun to form. She searches for your face among the others and finds you clutching at your left leg, a scar running down your hips.

Jackie's eyes follow as Shauna gets back into the plane and a feeling of dread fills her heart. She knows that if she doesn't help Shauna, her best friend will die. When she enters into the crashed death trap smoke fills her lungs and her vision. She searches for Shauna, finding her fiddling with something behind her shoulders. For a second she considers slapping Shauna, telling her that she's an idiot and taking her back, but when she hears Vanessa's desperate sobs her brain is filled with fear and horror and something akin to bravery. Her hands brace on either side of the seats and summoning a bravery she didn't know she had, along with Shauna, Jackie manages to open a window of opportunity for Van to slip out. Once the fresh air fills her lungs again and her brain is awake, Jackie searches for you.

Misty had hastily put together various bandages that ran down the entirety of your leg, blood already seeping out and darkening the cloth. Jackie can't even register that she has you in a death grip until she feels your chest moving on hers in an attempt to get more air in your lungs.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- '' her words get cut off as you push into her, already wettering the neck of the blue and yellow jacket she wore. Your throat bobs and tears fall from your eyes ``I, I'm scared". Jackie holds you to her chest, sobs threatening to leave her body, "Me too".

The smell of fire and pine needles filled the air around you, the tall trees shielding your view of the night sky. Hours after the disaster, you were surprised to find yourself enjoying your teammates' jokes near the campfire. You would have expected to feel this happy in another situation, but there you were: laughing in the dark night with the corpses of your old friends already starting to decompose back into the deathtrap. Jackie had insisted on sitting near you along Shauna. She kept to herself, having to maintain that image of her authority. Maybe she could be the one aiding the team to take a stand against nature. But in the aftermath of saving Van she had let her selfishness surge again and had protested against her cleanser being used as a sanitizer. She didn't mean to, the words left her mouth before she could understand the gravity of the situation. This wasn't what she was prepared for, her mind wasn't prepared enough to survive, to see the lifeless bodies of her own friends burn and decompose under her eyes.

Jackie had gotten silent for some time and her mouth had tasted the tears that were threatening to fall, but when she had felt your touch linger on her hand, a feeling of calm panic had washed over her. Your eyes stared into hers, understanding, saying 'I feel you, I understand you' and her heart ached. The fear was still clawing at her heart but she tried to subdue it in favor of quietly looking at you, trying to breathe through the hurt. Unbeknownst to her, Shauna's envious eyes had watched the whole interaction with anger boiling over the surface.

That night, Jackie dreams. She dreams of the last game, the leather of the ball comes into hard contact with the white metal of the goal and bounces back away from her and the other team wins. She dreams of a world where she and Shauna are now in her room, sad and bitter, but not here. Not on a cold night. She dreams of a world where she comes back to Jeff, he comforts her by kissing her cheek and whispering sweet, fake nothings to her. She dreams of him finally admitting he cheated, of a world where after months of sadness and thought, she manages to confess the strange feelings she has whenever you're around. She dreams of your lips touching hers.

If only... if only she didn't score, maybe...maybe...

The morning had come by fast, a pale light shone down from the trees and greeted their painful awakening. Jakcie had fallen asleep the night prior cuddled between you and Shauna. All the team had cuddled closer during the night in an effort to maintain as much heat as possible. The soil was scattered with clothes, remaining junk food leftovers, branches and the mechanical remains of the plane. And when she woke up, Jackie had panicked. As quietly as possible she had begun to hyperventilate, the reality of the situation finally kicking in. In an effort to keep calm, to get comforted, Jackie hides her face into your chest and lets her tears fall freely. In your sleep, you cling onto her and for a split moment, her heart bursts out of her chest. It feels like her rib cage has suddenly tightened on her organs and her body has been set aflame. She couldn't feel like this. She shouldn't. And why with you of all people? Why you, and not Jeff? Why you, and not Shauna? What is in you that makes her poor heartache, even in the most desperates of situations? Nevertheless, Jackie allows herself to feel and falls right back asleep. Reality can wait for some time.

When the bodies had been buried and were beginning to dissolve into the earth, a heavy silence had weighted on the team shoulders. At least they could rest in peace, for the rest though only chaos was waiting. Jackie had never been so scared in her life. So, when Taissa shouted that she had seen a lake nearby, Jacki couldn't believe it. Or, more accurately, she was scared of leaving. What if the rescue team came just as they left? And what if they didn't find them? She couldn't afford to lead her team into another hazard. so, when almost all of the team agrees to go, Jackie feels betrayed. It's stupid and selfish but she does, especially when Shauna raises her hand in favor of leaving. Without too much thrust, Jackie follows. She steps away from Shauna and walks with you, helping you move your leg on the uneven forest floor.

When she spots the shore, a sense of wonder and happiness fills her for the first time in hours. With her help, you manage to speed up to the lake. There, a realization dawns on her. She hadn't told the others that she was 'different'. No one here except Shauna knew. What would they have thought of her? "Aren't you going in?" she heard your voice ask her. "Uh, I- I don't know..." she stammers out. Her eyes widen when she sees you changing out of your dirty clothes "Well, I'm going. Misty had said that the water might cleanse my wound, but she never talked about lake water" Jackie vaguely registered your response while her eyes were still trained on your figure. "I hope there aren't any germs there" you lose the branch that supported your uneven walk in favor of trying to get out of your pants.

"Hey Jackie... I know this is weird to ask, but can you help me out? I can't crouch low enough to pull them off" her heart skips a beat and almost automatically, she starts to undress you out of your pants. She's sure her cheeks are a bit more red than usual. "Ah, thank you. Are you sure you're not coming in?" she doesn't know, she isn't sure. But she so, so wants to be there with you. "Uh yeah just, just let me change and I'll be there".

Jackie's eyes follow as you dip into the water. Vaguely, she can feel her blood flow in her body faster than normal, but she dismisses it. When she nears on the shore, as quickly and as carefully as possible, Jackie strips out of her clothes and watches for any unwanted gaze. When the cold water crashes on her skin, her body begins to cool off and that thirst she felt has been quelled. Now she reaches you and guides you to deeper waters, careful to listen to any signs of discomfort from you.

That's how you spend the rest of the afternoon: splashing each other with water, resting on the rocky shores of the lake and gossipping. The everpresent eye of Shauna watching your every move. When Lottie had spotted something in the distance, everyone had been on the move, hoping to find a new shelter for the night. And they did. The cabin was decrepit. Its roof was slightly slanted, vines and vegetation covered the wooden walls; but it worked. It could work. When she entered, a smell of mold and old plants had hit her nose. She found a can of green beans and when attempting to open it, her hunger preceding the thought that maybe she could have preserved it, she was greeted with the sight of many greenish beans swimming in a gray pool of liquid.

On the other side of the room, some of the girls are checking out one of those old sex magazines. Natalie calls out to you "Hey look, this girl kinda looks like you" and right then and there, Jackie crumbles. "Nah, she doesn't look like me! You have a shitty sight Scatorccio '' the team's eyes all gather to one point in the page, some let out whistles while others comment on it. "So, are you like this gentlelady under your clothes?" Van jokingly teases you "Guess you'll have to discover it yourself". Despite thinking she's above this, Jackie steals a glance as she walks out. And it's true, that woman did look like you, despite some differences. And now, Jackie has to deal with yet another problem.

She feels her body shift without her wanting to and heat spreads through her lower abdomen, begging to be put out. She walks out of the door fast and follows a trail behind the cabin. There, she tries to calm down but to no avail, images of you fill her mind and she feels her shorts tighten. Jackie lets out a grunt of discomfort: the situation wasn't exactly the most comfortable one to 'rub one out'. She looks back at the cabin, it's far but still in view: maybe here she can take care of herself with no prying eyes watching.

Jackie slips out of her shorts and starts to palm at her length. She tries to think about Jeff, about Shauna, even about her celebrity crushes, but nothing works. Everything morphs into you. So, when she finally gives up and allows herself to fall into your image, she finds that her body is already at the brink of release. She feels your hands stroking her skin, the tension releases out of her shoulders and your voice whispers reassurances in her ear. "Let it go" and she falls from her high, her legs give out and the skin meets the hard ground. Her gaze falls to her hand. Oh god, what have I done?

The afternoon lights had started to shine through the trees. After taking care of her little problem, Jackie had come back and sat on the wooden porch at the side of the cabin. This can't be real. It can't, right? Her heart aches far more than she realized. She doesn't belong here. She is angry, sad and terrified. This isn't real.

Regret, both for the plane crash and for what she had just done. Did she really jerk off to a friend in the middle of the forest, right after what happened? God, how could she be so disgusting? So careless? People died and all she could think about was fulfilling her own needs. Like always Jackie, you always have to be the center of attention. You couldn't even let your teammates have a peaceful rest, you just had to think about yourself huh? Can you even feel something, anything for others? Do you have anyone else in your mind except yourself?This just shows the utter scum of a person you really are. You waste.

Back at home, everyone always counted on her. She was the voice of reason, the one person who could bring different people together under one team. She had been the one to create the Yellowjackets, to care for them, to nourish them. She knew she was selfish, selfish and stupid, but she really tried. Jackie didn't mean to be this much of a fucking liability, but she couldn't help it. This place, these people, did they even think of her as an equal? Or did most of them fake their appreciation for her? She didn't mean to be a bother, trying to fix the old music player instead of doing the chores, but she needed desperately to not think. Please, for the love of God, get me out of here.

Days, months have passed and winter starts to tighten its cold hands on the Yellowjackets. All of them know. When winter comes, they might die. Every night, the last breeze of autumn comes knocking on the door in the form of the Grim Reaper, begging to be let in. To join the fun. For how much their determination is worth, nature has a sick way of playing with its prey.

They don't have to think.

That's why Jackie had hosted a seance in summer, to distract them. And that's why she decides to host a Doom Coming. Death is already at the door, so why not having fun in the last few weeks of their lives? And her life is just a mess. Jackie feels as if all of the world's faults weigh down on her shoulders. She's sad, bitter and angry: sad for Laura Lee and her unfair death, bitter at Shauna and Jeff, and angry at the world.

Finally, night has fallen. The sun is lowering down the horizon, the cold air nipping at the skin, but she tried to ignore it. The camp smells of leaves, fire and earth. It's almost calming. Laughs and wind and fire crackling fill her ears. Jackie sits on a log which acts as a stool and closes her eyes.

Right now, when everyone is partying, she allows herself to be vulnerable. In the months following the summer, Jackie had come to care less and less about what others might have thought about her if her secret came to be known. So her facade had finally started to crumble.

Jackie sat on the log, her legs spreading far apart, her back hunched and with her face in her hands. She knew the others would look at her and make fun or feel sorry for her, but right now she didn't care too much. A quiet whine left her body and trickles of tears staining her cheeks. Something moves at her right side and she jumps up to see you holding two makeshift wooden bowls. "Hey, thought of giving you this. You haven't eaten at all".

Maybe she doesn't want to. Maybe Jackie would rather die, her body to be eaten by the people she loved most and then dissolve into the earth, broken apart by nature and scattered like a constellation. "I... I am fine" she mutters into her hands, trying to mask her sobs.

"But you're not Jackie. You're so not fine; don't you think I can see that?" she's taken aback by your teary eyes burning a hole through her heart. You push the tears back in and hand her the warm bowl of soup. "I am scared too, Jackie. We all are. But at least, just before the end...won't you try to be happy?" and you know that asking her this is stupid and pathetic, but you too need to push reality away. And Jackie doesn't have enough strength to deny you. "...You're right", she takes the makeshift wooden spoon and dips it into the brownish soup. She lets the earthy flavors fill her mouth. "This isn't half as bad as I thought it would be'' Jackie smiles as she sets the bowl down. A giggle leaves your lips as you stand up, your legs feel wobbly and your skin starts to feel uncomfortably hot. "Say... you wouldn't want to have... a dance with me, would you?" words slurred, you try to pry Jackie out of her log and she happily complies.

Jackie feels strange. She isn't in total control of her body, her mind is foggy, her body moves slowly and lazily. She looks at you with lovey dovey eyes, as if you are a goddess on earth who came to relieve her of her pain. She doesn't even care that Mari's and Alikah's eyes are on both of you; as of right now Jackie only sees you. But now her mind is playing tricks on her: she sees you on her bed, naked.

"W-what?" and now that discomfort is back again, twirling inside of her stomach. "What is it?" Jackie can only feel her body stiffen once again, swaying 'Uhhh shit'. "I- I, don't worry!" but you insist with that look on your face that she can't resist. "What? What is it? Are you feeling ill?".

Shit!. "N-no I-" it's almost like her brain can't form any coherent thought anymore. Why? Why now?!, you get closer to her, an inch from her ear "Do you need something?" God damn it. "I need to- I need-" Jackie stops dead in her tracks as she feels your leg accidentally pressing on her groin. Shit! No! No, no, no! Why?! What is wrong with you?

You look down to see something puffing under her dress. What the heck was she hiding there?. It takes you a moment to understand what it really is, and when you do, you let out a small 'ohh' of understanding.

"Do you have something to tell me?" and Jackie feels embarrassed: embarrassed, guilty and disgusting. How could she have those kinds of thoughts for a friend? She's no better than Jeff, she's no better than them. "I am so, so, so sorry please, please I' didn't mean to-' ' you cut off Jackie with a shush, take her hand into yours and guide her in the forest.

You lead Jackie through low tree branches and vines, through bushes and dirt until you stumble in a beautiful clearing. Hidden between the thick branches of the pine trees, away from the cabin, the uneven forest floor becomes flat, the trees give away to green grass and moss and flowers. On the way, Jackie had noticed strange scrapes on the trees, like a knife had cut through the bark.

"This is where I come when I'm overwhelmed. I found it while having lost myself after going to get the water. You remember that day I didn't come to the cabin after dark?" Jackie nods, waiting for your voice again "I actually had been walking on circles, some feets away from the cabin I took the wrong turn and ended up in the wrong place, here." From your pocket, you fish out a small cutting knife, an old candle and a couple of matches you had stolen from Dead Guy's stash. "Luckily, I had this with me" you gesture to the knife, "If I hadn't, I'm not sure I could have come back". You let your things fall to the base of a tree, forgotten. "So," you say as you sit down and pat the ground next to you "mind explaining what that was?".

Jackie feels as if her blood had become ice cold; she's terrified, so much so that she's stiff and can't bring herself to sit near you. "Come here" she awkwardly lets herself lay on the ground with her legs tucked under her body and away from you.

"I- I am..." throat closing in on her words, she takes a breath and gathers all the courage she has left in her heart "I wasn't happy once. Before. I didn't realized it once, Shauna helped me understand. Sometimes I faked begin happy just to see the people near me happy. To see my parents happy. But once I started to put my own happiness before, I understood". Jackie feels as if a block of ice got stuck in her throat and it's preventing her from speaking clearly.

"For the time we have left, I will continue begin myself. I- I don't care what others think of me" and maybe that last part was a lie, maybe she does care. Every human need reassurance. But when she says that, she's looking directly into your eyes, with determination. A smile graces your lips and Jackie feels as if she has died for a moment and her soul reached heaven "I understand you" which is far better than any 'okays or 'alright's she has gotten so far. "Y-you do? I thought, I thought you would be... grossed out", silence fills the air and Jackie's breath hitches, waiting for the final blow at her heart. "You could never 'gross me out' Jackie, why did you even thought about that?"

"I really thought that you might-" Jackie's words die engulfed in your arm, her head cradled on you, "You are safe with me". Something in her, a cage, breaks into million shining pieces and lets her heart beat red blood into her flesh. Jackie feels as if the old cruel world broke and left space for a new, shining future, one she shares with you. She weeps into your shoulder, finally understood, happy, euphoric, free from her own self and from the world's expectations.

You let her weep into you for some time, the sky's color changes from the purple and orange evening glow to a light cobalt, the stars already starting to show.

"Now, I want to ask you something else..." your cheeks feel suddenly hotter, thighs closing in on themselves. Jackie listens to you, and you're suddenly very interested on your hands. "That... thing that happened back there... why? Why did it happen while we were dancing?". Ohh shiiit.

Jackie feels sick. A ball of nausea forms in the deepest parts of her stomach and reaches out to her mouth. For a second, she feels like she will throw up. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry I forgot, I-" and now, emotions and feelings of the past months come crashing down on her heart. And when she parts her lips, it is too late to stop.

"I... like you. I do. I've felt like this for a while now. Back there I don't- I don't know why I felt like that and why it happened, but t-that's not like me at all! I- I am-" but the silence that follows is enough for Jackie to stop. Right then and there, she knows she has lost you. "I should probably go..." she says to you; Jackie's muscles move to follow her torso but your arms hug her shoulders before she can escape you. For a moment she's confused and almost thinks an animal might have tackled her to the ground, but when she feels your touch on her cheeks, peace fills her heart. You lightly trace her small skin marks under her eyes and lean down to kiss her. In her eyes billions of stars shine and in her heart, billions of stars explode. Her body is lighter, almost made of condensed air. It almost feels like a sin when she touches your hand: like if her fingertips could dirty the beautiful soul in front of her. "I want you too" you say to her, a whisper. Now she truly is gone.

Jackie kisses you back with a passion you didn't know she had in her. Everything is forgotten: the dirt of the soil, the rotten cabin, the looks of the others, the touches of Jeff, the desire for Shauna, the desire to run from the world. Here and now, Jackie is at peace. Finally at peace, after months of hardship. Her heart beats and her blood runs, and she's happy. So, so very happy.

When you leave the kiss, Jackie feels lightheaded. A dark feeling inside of her screams to stay, to take, to devour. She takes you right back into her arms, clinging to you so hard that you're sure your bones will snap. The kiss becomes raw, hungry and dangerous; all lips and tongue and teeth. Her hand cradles the back of your head and with the free hand, she claws at your shirt. There is a feeling blooming inside her groin and stomach; she wants to devour and be devoured. You get rid of your clothes and discard them aside. Now Jackie can see you in all your beauty, skin shaded by the blue evening night.

It's getting dark.

"Maybe, maybe we shouldn't..." Jackie whispers in your mouth but makes no effort to stop. Your hands find her soft skin, you cradle her head upwards facing you, "Let morning come". Your hands find Jackie's skin underneath her dress and her breath stops, she tries to gulp down air in her lungs but they feel tight. Your hands are just so soft and she feels so good, so right here with you. For the first time in a while, she doesn't have to be in charge of anything. For the first time, she can be her whole, broken self without needing to be something she's not. With a trembling voice, Jackie asks you to help her out of her dress. The cold air hits Jackie all at once, making her shiver but she is too caught up in you to care. As soon as the dress is off her hands are already on your skin, touching wherever they could. "I- I want to..." but she couldn't find in herself the strength to say what she wanted, needed to do. Instead, Jackie decided to crash her lips into yours again and rest her hand on your back, atop the clasps of your bra, a silent request. The dizziness of before had almost worn off by the time you were bare before her. A breathy sigh left Jackie's lips "Wowza...", you couldn't help but let out a giggle "Really? 'Wowza'?".

"What?! I couldn't help it..." her words trail off when her gaze falls to your chest. Fingers come down on you, caressing and touching and groping at every inch of skin she finds. She props you up on her lap, trying to relive the pain of her hardness starting to show. It's almost embarrassing how desperate she is, her cheeks are flushed red, her eyes unfocused and watery. Jackie's lips circle your nipple, biting and licking and sucking and tugging at your skin. Jackie's length gets harder and hard by the minute, for every time her name falls off your lips. All the uncomfortable and guilt has gone, leaving behind something dark and primal. She starts to hump on your ass while continuing to suck on you. "Oh, I see someone is eager" and all that confidence she had goes right out of the window, her sober self comes out more embarrassed than before "Oh- gosh I'm-I am sor-" but she is shut down by your grinding down on her. "Who said you could lead tonight?".

Oh shit I'm so into this.

"N-no one..." her voice came out shaking with excitement, the prospect of the night and all the scenarios playing out in her head.

"That's right, you deserve a break" not as sexy as she would have wanted, but this is fine too. More than fine. She was tired of feigning leadership. Your hands fiddle with the waistband of her underwear, feeling around the skin of her waist. This feels like a torture to Jackie. "Please, I-..." she meets your hands and tries to grind into you. As teasing as ever, your touch skims right on her thighs, squeezing and stroking her skin. "Tsk, I thought you wanted to be taken care of. Maybe I should stop?".

"N-no! No, please I will be good I promise". Jackie settles back against the earth, her puppy eyes looking up at you with the fear that you won't touch her anymore. "That's what I wanted to hear". Finally your fingers dip under her waistband and pull, freeing her after what felt like an eternity. Now, the both of you are bare against each other. "What do you want me to do, Jackie?" after some thought, Jackie says, "I... I want to taste you... Please....".

Now you take her place, laying down on the earth. Jackie watches you with adoration while her fingers start to travel downwards. Her fingers part your legs and she kisses the skin of your thighs, just mere inches away from where you need her the most. You whisper her name, wanting her to get on with it, to please you. At that, Jackie dips into you. After months of desire, it feels like heaven on earth. Her fingers tease your clit, circling it multiple times before moving down. But you're not prepared enough for the intrusion. So, Jackie starts to suck on you. She's so attentive and shy it makes you want to cry. You ground on her face and hear her letting out a whimper, she's getting pleasure from this too. When you are wet enough, Jackie's ring finger teases your opening and enters. You have already done this before, but it pales in comparison on how Jackie is making you feel. Almost like a shock running through your body and a wildfire spreading in your limbs. And you are sure that if Jackie continues, you will combust on the spot. Finger flicking your nipples, tongue occasionally joins her fingers to lick up your slit, eyes always fixated on your face twisted in pleasure. You look under her to see her free hand stroking her length quickly, white wetness dripping from it. "I- I am about to..." but your words die in your throat. When Jackie comes up again, the lower part of her face is covered in your release, she's still stroking herself. "Please, please I need it, I need it" she continued as she came closer to you. "What do you need Jackie?" she whimpers, desperately humping into her hand "y-you please. Your... mouth".

You smile at her, reaching to tease her length but just a few movements of your hand are enough to send her over the edge. Jackie gasps when she comes undone, her hands tightening over your shoulder. "O-Oh God I, I usually last way more than this..." you snort at her, "Hm? Way more?". Her brows are furrowed, cheeks red with embarrassment "...ok, a bit more". You decide to stop teasing her and reach down, sucking the last drops of her release. Her moans encourage you to get on top of her, legs straddling her hips on both sides. Slowly, you began grinding down on her.

"Oh... I like this'' Jackie moans in your mouth, hands exploring every inch of your skin. After what feels like an eternity, you line up Jackie's lengt with your slit, sliding it from under you on purpose and meeting her hips. "Please... stop teasing..." she lets out a grunt, her hands rest steady on your hips and she begins to drag you down on her. You like this double sided version of Jackie. All her dominance goes straight out of the window when she enters you. It takes an unholy amount of strength for Jackie to not start pounding in you, and to keep herself from coming too fast. She pants as if she's shoulder deep inside a pool of cold water, shaky. It's the first time she has reacted this way to having sex. Usually, she could keep a cool, passionate demeanor but she's so excited to do this with you. It feels different from any other casual sex encounters she had.

You still above her. She has reached the deepest point she could, cuddled between dark and hot and wet. It feels too much to you and you rest your head on her shoulders, trying to catch your breath. She is so delicate with you, whispering sweet encouragements on how -"you take me so well", "You can do it" and "I like you so, so much"-. You're the one that starts to move, surprising Jackie who was still in the middle of her praise. Her breath hitches when she feels you move on her, slowly and methodically taking her to the tip and all the way back. This is perfect.

You rest your hands on her shoulder and hers rest on your hips, guiding you back and forth on her. The grip is tight enough that you can feel your skin bruise under her touch. "Fas-faster please..." you try to comply, bouncing on her faster than before, but your legs feel wobbly and uncertain. When she sees that you can't go any faster, Jackie trusts up into you and meets your hips with force, bouncing you up and down. "I-I'm sorry I' can't go slower..." it feels so good you can't really complain about it. Now you have regained enough strength to meet Jackie halfway, both of you lost in a frenzy of pleasure. She's loud, almost yelling and in the back of your mind, you are terrified someone might come and take a look, but another part of you is thrilled at the prospect of begin found out. You are a bit shocked when Jackie's hand comes down on your ass, but you don't complain. If someone walked past you, they would immediately understand what was happening.

The only sounds that can be heard in the forest are your whimpers, moans, the slapping of skin, wind and chirping and, a little farther, yelling and rabid howls of creatures that resemble humans. But that is not important right now. Your minds are too lost in pleasure to think that, in the dark corners of the night, something could wait for the chance to pounce on you.

Jackie starts to move faster than you can keep up. She moves so you lay your back against the dirt and face her. She brings your leg up and opens the space between your thighs more, allowing herself easier access. She begins to pound into you, faster and harder and sloppier than before. She has no rhythm left, no care, only pleasure and the need to relieve both herself and you in her mind. She grabs your leg hard, not letting go in fear that if she does, you might vanish into thin air. "I am close, I am gonna-" she doesn't want to cum, not right now: this moment should last forever. But she can't hold herself back anymore.

From the dark, a pair of brown eyes had spied on the both of you. Shauna was hungry and her hunger was so grand that it made her vision, her brain and the world around her blurry. She was chasing Travis, along the others but had been left behind when she heard sounds coming from behind some bushes. Her mouth had watered thinking it could be an animal but she got let down when she realized the sounds were coming from you. Her initial shock had been replaced by annoyance. She had so hoped to get something beneath her teeth, but to no avail. Then, hate had bubbled its way through her veins and into her heart. She hated you at that moment. The both of you. Shauna couldn't understand if she wanted to be with Jackie or in between you two. Sure, she thought of Jackie before, during the night hours but she hadn't dared to make the first move. And then, when Jackie had gotten with Jeff, she was hellbent on having all of her. She did realize that there was something sparking between the two of you after the first few games, but she kept quiet. She imagined herself, between bodies. Skin and sweat and kisses. She thought of taking Jackie's while kissing you, of guiding your head down, of bending Jackie over and-. Her stomach growled. It was loud enough she could clearly hear it, but not enough for you two to get suspicious of anything. That fantasy of hers would never happen. She retreated back into the dark.

Jackie is moving fast against you, hips slapping repeatedly up on yours and hands reaching every little bit of skin she can. From deep inside her groin, she feels something snap. She's not gentle with you anymore. Something raw and angry has taken control over her brain. Jackie slipped out of you and snuck behind, her arm lifting up your leg before entering once again. In this position she can reach deeper and move faster. She's being too hard on you. A scowl appears on her face when you try to slow her down by slipping from her grasp, "You- you will, you will stay here a-and take-" growling, her fingers grip at your flesh again, harder this time.

A knot snaps inside your guts and without managing to yell a warning, you release on Jackie's. She feels you dripping down on her. Your coming prompts her to do the same: Jackie gives a final long and hard thrust and leaves you empty, releasing on the soil.

She falls on top of you, spent "O-oh wowza. That... that felt amazing". You laugh at her "Again, 'wowza'?! It's not sexy Jackie" she mumbled something back at you and then hid her face in the crook of your neck. You're silent, now left with the remnants of your lovemaking and the constant presence of death looming over you. A faint trace of cold is coming out of the earth and down on you. "What do we do now?" she asks, embracing and shivering against you "Did- did we do something bad? What's gonna happen now? We will all still die-" her voice hitches. She's crying: tears fall down your skin as she nuzzles on it. You take her hand, tracing patterns on it, "We will manage".

Days later, when Jackie finally confronts Shauna, secrets get spilled. Of affairs, of grudges that lasted years, even of your lovemaking with Jackie. She had stormed out of the cabin: just like she feared, everyone had turned on her. Jackie watches the fire, cold seeping in her bones and her mind getting groggy. Shauna walks to Jackie, hand embracing her best friend's back. "Come inside" you say, your features and voice replacing Shauna's. In the back of her mind Jackie wants to preserve her dignity: walking back into the house would mean to admit that she had lost the argument; but staying out here could kill her. Jackie follows you, gripping at your arm tightly. Everyone is asleep; you lead her to rest on one open spot near the fire, finally hugging her cold body to yours. "Rest easy" and she doesn't need to be told twice, falling asleep right away in your arms. Next morning, it was snowing.

surely, surely, surely

The X-files x Yellowjackets - AU no one saw coming. A CC art-request of Lottie and Nat as Mulder and Scully 👽

Ghost in the Shell

Negleted male reader x batfamily chapter 1

Probably bad English ⚠️

Prologue - cap 2

Y un montón de orgullo argentino la puta madre >:)

You certainly always were weird, a weird boy and then a weird man

You were born from one night between a respectable and loving woman like your mother and...Bruce.Then you lost the most important woman in your life and your home as a child.

Then you grew up with your father and your family

You were so excited to make them happy, but it was all in vain.His false promises only brought sad hopes to the child.

You naively believed his words without thinking that they were lies or insults

You stayed alone so as not to suffer the consequences of such a beautiful life that could only have been a dream For the child who found comfort in his computer and later considered it his home

Considering the internet as your place, just for being yourself, and then evolving over the years, bringing happiness to millons of persons and hiding invisible shortcomings and pains.

From your first videos as a child to your last as a young adult who inspired others with his parodies, sketches and his accordion, native to your beautiful Argentina and inherited from your mother

Only to begin your own mourning after finishing your shift in the kitchen where you worked and passing away

You were young, still studying and working for a better future for yourself as a Latino only to die with two gunshots to the chest, lying on the floor of an alley

And that was your story so far. Locked inside the same technology that accompanied you in life in one way or another

You possessed your computer,ridiculous as it sounds,Only able to see your own room and what you considered almost your home

According to a Gotham website that recorded deaths, you had died a few days ago.You were successfully registered in the database as t/n and recognized by your family

No one has entered your room since then and for now you have only been doing your same daily routine on the internet, without your work, your few friends and studies of course, trying to understand yourself

Only Alfred came in, bringing with him some personal pain for the loss, you hid from him pretending to be turned off by fear..

The man meticulously dusted the objects in the unopened room while you stood in pure silence with your...Monitor? Face? Off

He walked around the room, stopping after a few steps to see somethings like it was a musem Posters,figures from series or games that Alfred din't know, drawings full of your unique creativity, your old sheets, the stickers of candy promos on the window and other places stuck

Your room seemed almost trapped in time and you loved it that way

Finally, the two great exhibits of "your museum" were your beautiful, and beautiful accordion..or how you like to call it,acordeón o Gardelito Demonstrating your people's characteristic love for your country

It was a beautiful old accordion painted black with a "fileteado" Showing your light blue and white flag with a sun in the center with all its pride

The brightness of the instrument made it charming to anyone and captivated the old butler who looked with interest at its keys

The old man's wrinkled hand landed on the keyboard, about to touch a key, then closed slightly and moved away, welcoming him to the latest exhibit: an old computer

Your old computer

And you

So many years sitting at the same table in front of an old blue chair entertaining one of Wayne's sons..

Only to be seen empty and sad without her partner in the silence of the room

It wasn't the most shocking image the butler had ever seen, but it provoked...a feeling of regret and pain

For the absence of someone Alfred knew deserved a chance

↪ au: Poetic justice

Alternative ending to 04.1 Jason's crime I'll be honest I kept this one short mainly because this is a little bit darker then I usually write and idk if I should use a mature tag, because my original plan for this side story is a lot darker (I turned it down a lot). It might become a multiple part side story, depends if you guys like it. trigger warnings: medical + physical + emotional neglect, guilt, character death (semi-graphic suicide), gn reader (just pretend Reader is out in this au) main m.list          series m.list

‘I’m sorry mama.

It hurts, so much. I can’t take it anymore. It’s all too much, I can’t go on like this, but I know you didn’t me to turn out this way. But I can’t go back. This is the end, and all I do is listen to them.

I am scared of what will happen if I don’t, I’m so terrified mama. I can’t go on like this, but if I do this, isn’t it the easy way out? Especially for them? Wouldn’t I just be giving them what they want? A life without me? Oh, mama, how I wish you were here to guide me, to teach me, to talk me through this. To tell me what I can do.

At least I did what you taught me, I documented everything from the moment I could grab my phone. I took pictures of the injuries he gave me, I did as you taught me, but having these like a card up my sleeve isn’t enough. I want to die, but not just kill myself and leave a note. No, I want to explode this all in Bruce’s face. I want him to feel the hurt I feel.

I want him to burn here on earth and on hell.

That is the justice I want, it’s the justice I need. So I made a plan, you’ll be mad when we meet again. I know it, but you’ll understand. Won’t you, mama? I tried for so long, and this was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Once I am done I hope the find this diary. I hope that they know that I am dead because of them all.’

You sigh, you hadn’t written in your diary for a while, not since the attack. But today your ‘family’ isn’t here.

Today you are doing what you should have done the day your mama died. But you aren’t leaving before pulling the manor down with you, you had created a social media account that quickly garnered followers. Mainly from school, they all wanted to know more about you. They want to know why you aren’t attending classes, and they’ll learn.

It will shatter their hope to know that the Wayne family isn’t as squeaky clean as everyone thinks they are.

You will shatter Gotham’s perspective the moment your timed camera and social media posts hit the decks. You just need to move fast, you had already gotten everything ready, Jason’s clothes are sturdy and make for a good make-shift rope, and won’t it be poetic? Beaten to the point that scars have already began to form, and now you’ll die at the hands of his clothes wrapped around your neck.

Just like his hands were that day.

But this time it won’t be in your room, no, even if your room was now a creepy replica of your original one, you won’t defile it. You’ll do it right here in the living room, the room your family met up in the most and the room you avoided the most.

Your hands shaking as you stand up on the stool, there is no time to turn back.

You close your eyes and as you feel life slip away from you, and when you feel it get closer? You smile.

The Bat Family knows death like it’s their closest friend, Jason specifically, having been in heaven after all. But when he arrives at the manor, waiting for a debrief, he realises he’ll never go there again.

Because here he stands frozen, in front of the sibling he had harmed, they were just hanging there. Oh god, what has he done? Tears roll down his eyes as he walks towards them. Completely unaware of his surroundings, not even noticing that a camera is rolling, that sirens are slowly surrounding the manor. He should consider himself luckily that he had already changed in sweatpants, no sign of his Red Hood gear. Otherwise he had to explain more than just their wounds.

The closer he got to them, the more his surroundings seem to disappear. The more he doesn’t notice, the others had rushed in the room after hearing the sirens and getting an alert from Barbara that (Name) leaked the situation on the internet, with proof. Bruce had lied to her, he said it was just a small situation. Shouting over the comms to demand the truth, is it all true? Did they truly do this her? But it doesn’t matter, Jason did this. He pushed them to their death.

“Oh God,” he chokes out, as he finally reaches his arms out to touch your body. As he finally takes in your expression. You’re smiling, as if you are glad. As if you are finally safe. He did this. He did this to you. “I’m sorry, what have I done….”

He falls to his knees, his head touching the ground as his sobs echo in the room. But his pity party didn’t last for long, no. Before he could reach for your body and beg for forgiveness Tim pushes him away from your body, angry tears streaming down his face. “You don’t get to touch them.” His voice was shaking, his body rigid and tense. He was on the defensive. Tim seems deluded as he shouts, pointing at them all; “None of you get to touch them!”

Tears streaming down his face as he screams once more; “What have we done?!” (Oh, would this have been him if Bruce hadn’t saved him?) His thoughts torture him and all he could do was pull on his hair, almost tearing it out as he swears he can see your body move. Your smile turning sour the longer he looks at your face. As if you’re telling him; ‘Oh, Tim, couldn’t you do this for me when I was alive? Couldn't you have defended me before?’

Then Tim’s eyes widen, what if you can still be saved, what if he can still turn your faith around?

If you were saved, would his complicity be forgiven?

He works quick, taking your body down as he tries to save you. But your body is already getting cold, it’s too late, but he doesn’t care. He needs you to open your eyes, he needs to ask for forgiveness, he needs to turn your faith around.

You needed someone in your corner, he shouldn’t have been complicate, he should have saved you. That's what Red Robin's for, to protect those that couldn't protect themselves. And he had left you behind, the person that saved him, the person that could relate to him the most. And he never let you in.

He didn’t even notice he was hyperventilating until Bruce pulled him away from your body as paramedics rush into the room. Bruce holds Tim in a bruising hug, almost as if he's terrified Tim would die too. His eyes shot up to where his other siblings were, their eyes terrified. Their eyes looking at your body as if it was all a dream.

Then it all became real.

You are pronounced dead.

And a dread settles upon them all.

They, who are Gotham’s protectors, killed a civilian.

They were the cause of a death of someone they vowed to protect. All because of their own ignorance.

as I said before if you guys like this I'll make it in a bigger side story, but it would get a new taglist and it's own masterlist. For this chapter I'll use the taglist for Nobody's child.

taglist (Nobody's child): @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret