😭 Thank You So So So So So Much For Writing My Request!! There's Absolutely No Rush With This I Just

😭 Thank you so so so so so much for writing my request!! There's absolutely no rush with this I just wanted to ask another one, Because I'm kind of obsessed with your work-

Perhaps Jackie Taylor X Reader where they have been married for a long time. Like 10 plus years. She wakes up ready to go to work but their reading is standing in the kitchen, And it reminds Jackie of when they were so young and in love. It just makes her fall in love with the reader all over again and she decides she just has to take the reader and eat her out on the counter!

-🦜

── RUNNING HOME TO YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS

😭 Thank You So So So So So Much For Writing My Request!! There's Absolutely No Rush With This I Just
😭 Thank You So So So So So Much For Writing My Request!! There's Absolutely No Rush With This I Just
😭 Thank You So So So So So Much For Writing My Request!! There's Absolutely No Rush With This I Just

— summary: slow mornings with jackie.

— warnings: established relationship/marriage. fem!reader. domestic fluff & nsfw content. mdni.

😭 Thank You So So So So So Much For Writing My Request!! There's Absolutely No Rush With This I Just

jackie stretches as she wakes, letting consciousness settle over her slowly. the sheets are warm, cocooning her in their familiar weight, too tempting to leave just yet. from the other room, the quiet sounds of morning drift in; the rustle of pages turning, the soft clink of a spoon against ceramic.

jackie’s muscles, untrained but prominent from years of soccer in highschool and college, uncoil as she turns her head toward your side of the bed. it’s empty but still holds the warmth of you, the shape of your body faintly imprinted on the freshly washed sheets. not gone long, then. she smiles to herself, fingertips tracing the dip where you had been.

a soft weight presses against her shin, pulling her from the last remnants of sleep. glancing down, jackie finds your cat curled at the foot of the bed, paws tucked neatly under its chin. she reaches out, running her fingers over its soft fur, scratching lightly between its ears. the cat barely stirs, only flicking its tail once before sinking deeper into sleep. even after all these years, it still favors you.

with another stretch, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, the morning air cool against her skin. reaching for the worn sweater draped over the chair, jackie tugs it on quickly. yours, technically, but she’s long since claimed it as her own in the mornings. the fabric is too large on her, with sleeves hanging way past her hands, but it smells like you and the lavender laundry detergent you always buy and feels more comforting than any of her own clothes.

once she pulls it over her head and untangles her limbs from the sheets, she moves from the bedroom. jackie already knows exactly where she’ll find you.

as she walks through the hallway, she passes all the little signs of your life together: the framed photo from your honeymoon hangs slightly crooked on the wall, something you always insist you’ll fix but never do. tucked into the frame is a worn polaroid from your first apartment, covering a small crack in the glass. in it, jackie is holding up a wine glass, while you’re caught mid-laugh, leaning into her the same way you always have, even in the wedding photos that follow further down the hall.

the entryway table holds a vase of dried flowers, a bouquet she had given you months ago, now preserved because you couldn’t throw them out. nearby, a small stack of mail she keeps meaning to sort through, books piled beside it, some hers, some yours, overlapping in the same way your lives always have. it’s a cozy kind of mess, one that makes her smile even in passing.

and then there’s you, the centerpiece of jackie’s existence now, standing in the kitchen, bathed in the light that spills through the curtains.

you’re still in your nightgown, its hem skimming the curve of your thighs, and your hair is a little mussed from sleep. one hand cradles a mug, while the other flips absently through a book on the counter, your lips quirking every so often at whatever you’re reading while you wait for the eggs to cook.

jackie freezes in the doorway to watch you for a bit.

it’s been over a decade. over ten years of this, of waking up and falling asleep to you, learning every single one of your habits, and still, she finds herself caught off guard by how much she loves you and how much she still wants you, in all the ways that matter.

she remembers mornings like this from the beginning, back when you were both in high school, and time alone was a rare thing. the only moments you had to yourselves then were tucked into the short window between her parents leaving for work and shauna pulling up to drive you both to school.

everything felt like new territory back then. your presence in her house had meant rushed breakfasts at the kitchen counter, stolen kisses between sips of coffee in the too-large home of the taylors, always cut short by the sound of an approaching car and the reality that you couldn’t stay.

now, here you are, still stealing her breath away.

you glance up as if sensing your wife, and your face softens into a smile. jackie swallows, her heart doing something embarrassingly teenage in her chest.

“you’re staring,” you tease, taking a sip of your tea. jackie hums, pushing off the doorframe and crossing the room. “can’t help it,”

you laugh. before you can say anything else, she’s there, warm hands finding your waist, pulling you into her. sighing into the touch, you instinctively set your mug down on the counter as she buries her face against your neck and breathes you in.

“mhm, good morning to you too mrs (y/l/n),” you murmur.

god, jackie never tires of hearing that: your name, now hers.

it had never even been a question. the moment it came up in a long conversation spent curled up bare under the sheets of the cottage where she’d proposed, jackie knew. you had tilted your head, fingers tracing lazy patterns against her shoulder, and asked, ‘so, what do we do about names?’ she had just shrugged, as if the answer was the simplest thing in the world. ‘i’ll take yours’

and that was that. no hesitation or second thoughts, just certainty, like so many things when it came to you.

“you still like the sound of that, huh?” you tilt your head enough for her to kiss you properly.

“best decision i ever made,” jackie whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. she can feel your smile against her lips in response.

“aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for work?”

she lets her hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt. “i changed my mind…”

“oh?”

“yeah. i think i’d rather stay here,”

you hum, and your fingers move into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging just enough to make jackie sigh against your mouth.

she always knows where you need her before you do yourself, and her hands slide further up beneath the silky fabric, over warm skin, cupping all of your breasts in her palms. her teeth graze your bottom lip just enough to make you whine into her. she swallows the sound greedily, tilting her head to kiss you deeper, her fingers tightening like she wants to pull you even closer. like close will never be close enough.

just as smoothly as she works your lips apart to slip her tongue in, she hooks her hands under your thighs and lifts you onto the counter. with a startled laugh, you let her move you. jackie grins when she steps between your legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs.

“easy,” you tease.

jackie’s palms caress up your parted thighs, the heat of her touch leaving a trail in its wake until settling firm at your hips. she holds you there and you exhale against her, fingers slipping back into her hair, curling it in your fists.

your legs tighten around her waist, pulling her in closer until jackie swears under her breath, clearly feeling the warmth that radiates from your center. she breaks the kiss just long enough to press her forehead against yours, breathing heavy, lips agape.

“you,” she accuses with her index poking your sides. “are trying to kill me here!”

“i’m not doing anything!” you protest.

jackie scoffs, quick to steal another kiss. then another. and another, like she has all the time in the world. right when you’re sure she’s going to lose herself entirely, the kitchen timer beeps.

the eggs.

for half a second, jackie looks almost offended at the rude interruption, but then your head drops against her shoulder and your body shakes with laughter. she groans, but your laughter is contagious, and soon enough, she’s laughing too.

jackie doesn’t let go of you, blindly reaching behind herself to fumble for the stove dial until she manages to turn it off.

“you’re just going to leave them sitting there?”

she nods, lips trailing down your jaw again so her voice comes out muffled. “they’ll survive”

you wrap your arms around her shoulders whilst she kisses her way back to your mouth.

jackie’s fingers fumble with the tie of your nightgown, working it open without needing to break the kiss. years spent learning where to tug and pull to free you from your clothes are to blame, the different motions muscle memory by now.

no matter how familiar jackie is with your body, she will never not take her time savoring the sight of you: you’re not wearing anything underneath, save for a thin pair of panties, so with the way she’s pushed the gown open your chest is on full display.

“so pretty,” she purrs, already closing the distance again. her hands cup your breasts, rolling your nipples gently at the same time as she’s kissing you. jackie’s mouth wanders to the side of your throat, then further down.

there’s no longer need for claim, for desperate encounters that aim to prove something. jackie will occasionally enjoy ravishing you (sinking her teeth in your flesh until the skin between them bruises all while she’s really fucking you), but it has become this for the most part: gentle lovemaking whenever you have the chance, still unable to keep your hands off of each other.

her lips briefly graze over the valley between your breasts, then slide below your belly button as she lowers her weight to the ground in front of you. with a smile, you cup one side of her face, taking your own share of time to admire your wife.

jackie doesn’t let you have a lot of it, though: before you know it, her mouth is on the fabric of your underwear and your head falls back against the wall as she feels you up with her tongue and lips, pressing in the places she’s memorized by heart.

“is that okay?” she breathes against you, still fully clothed, but aching with want.

“mhm,” you tighten your grip and jackie, who sighs happily in response and reaches out to peel your panties off. she’s careful with it, making sure you won’t slide off the counter while she lifts one leg after the other, just to pocket the underwear once that is done.

an invitation would not be necessary, and still, you spread your legs wider, not out of urgency but trust, shame and self consciousness long outgrown.

she has seen you in every state, knows every scar, every curve, every place where time has left its mark and, still, jackie looks at you like you are the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. her hands brush over skin she’s traced a thousand times before, never with any less reverence.

you look down just in time to find jackie pressing a first kiss to your mound, her ragged breath ghosting over your soaked sex that pulses impatiently lower.

with the index and middle finger of her right hand parted, she runs them through you, spreading your labia open in awe. a breathless sound tears from your throat, aware of how easily her digits slide through your wetness.

“come on,” you urge, lifting a leg over her shoulder. easier access.

jackie complies; her lips are parted when she presses them against you, applying just the right amount of pressure. the moan you let out at the first contact is loud and ragged, echoing through the kitchen.

“right there,” you cry.

right there, not because jackie needs guidance but because you know she loves it when you’re open. loud. when you let her know that she’s making you feel good, whether it is by letting your moans slip or by praising her verbally.

the vibrations of the noise she makes in response go straight to your core, more arousal dripping for her mouth to drink up hungrily. it is coating her, slick and wet as she traces over your clit and swirls in clockwise circles.

for a while, jackie eats you out like this, getting lost in your taste just like you are in the sensations of her tongue flicking from side to side, licking broad strokes through you, then fucking into you deep.

her hair, a little longer now but still the same golden brown she’s been maintaining, clings to the thin film of sweat on her forehead in delicate strands, proof that she’s just as affected by what she’s doing to you, whilst her neatly manicured nails dig into your flesh. soft pastel pink almond shapes drag lines of red down the side of your thighs, goosebumps and shivers rising from the touch.

“you taste so good” she says softly once, then leans right back in to continuously flick your clit.

you can tell she’s toying with you, avoiding your most sensitive spots with purpose, only ever ghosting it briefly until you’re grinding yourself against her face in frustration you cannot contain. she knows exactly what you would need to get close to the edge, pretends to give it to you, then withdraws once pleasure starts building up.

“jackie,” you whine.

between your legs, she holds your gaze, reaches out and runs a hand through your folds. when she tilts her head, asking for permission silently, you immediately nod and jackie pushes forward, two fingers sinking into the heat of your cunt.

this draws the loudest moan from you yet, though you wouldn’t dare to try and stifle it.

that’s a habit you’ve long since left behind, discarded like the passed down furniture and mismatched dishes from your first apartment. then, everything had been hushed, kisses stolen behind locked doors, moans muffled into pillows. the walls were thin, the neighbors close, and the fear of being overheard turned every moment into a careful mix of restraint and want.

in the home you live in now, there are no walls to mind, no need to press a fist to your mouth to quiet yourself. here, you are free to gasp when jackie’s lips press against your clit, free to let her love you without reservation.

jackie has taken her mouth off of you to watch the way your face contorts in pleasure as she rubs the tips of her fingers against your g-spot, allowing you to see the arousal smeared across the lower half of her face, glistening beautifully in the light.

she’s moaning too, quieter and less desperate of course, but moaning all the same when she feels the way you flutter around her as though she could actually get off from this. your pleasure had always been jackie’s, too.

“good?” she rasps.

“mhm,” you lift your head from the wall behind you, watching in awe as jackie puts her tongue back to where you want it. you don’t even know what it is about jackie’s mouth but she could probably make you cum from nothing but gentle kisses if she tried, always knowing exactly where to move to coax the most pleasure from your body.

her hair curls up between your fingers when she starts sucking on your clit gently, drawing a contented hum from her mouth.

the words jackie is saying morph into muffled babbles against your cunt, her voice white noise to the pleasure that sets your nerve endings alight as she sucks, her eyes rolling back in their sockets at the taste of you.

“jackie” you gasp, your hips pushing further into her face. an unreleased tension starts building in your abdomen, making your whole body tremble wildly.

“are you close love?” jackie asks, her fingers thrusting into you at a faster pace. “it’s okay,” she sits back on her heels to look at you, her hand making up for the momentary loss of her mouth. “i got you. just let go”

your free hand reaches for hers, fingers lacing together so that she can give you one long squeeze. jackie’s mouth starts sucking your clit harsher, pushing into you deeper, making your walls clench around her fingers. the sensation is so much. it’s not nearly enough. it’s perfect, sending you over the edge in mere seconds.

with a strangled cry of jackie’s name, you cum against the feeling of her mouth on your clit and her fingers buried deep inside you. her voice feels distant as pleasure rushes through your veins.

“that’s it” jackie praises, holding you through your orgasm. “oh my god, that’s it. fuck, you’re so beautiful” she talks you through the entire height, her voice cracking whilst she watches you fall apart and come undone. she continues her licking and sucking too, until you comfortably move her head away, spent and on the verge of overstimulation.

with a wet pop, she releases your throbbing clit and presses a last kiss to your knee before rising to her feet. you’re still perched on the counter, catching your breath, warmth buzzing under your skin.

jackie reaches for the edges of your nightgown next, making quick work of pulling the fabric back together, tying it loosely at your waist. you watch her fuss over it with amusement, as if she hadn’t just spent the last several minutes undoing it in the first place. “very modest of you”

“someone’s gotta keep you decent,” she quips, a teasing smile on her lips as she slots herself back between your legs, hands settling at your waist. the kiss that follows is slow and sweet, her mouth still carrying the taste of you. jackie lingers until the soft scent of something cooking reminds you of the world beyond her touch.

your gaze flickers past her to the stove, where the eggs still sit, long forgotten. “so...you still want breakfast?”

jackie glances over her shoulder at the abandoned pan, then back at you, considering. “i mean, we did work up an appetite, huh?”

you roll your eyes, swatting at her arm playfully before slipping down from the counter. she doesn’t let you go far, her hands finding your waist again as she stands behind you, holding you close while you move around the kitchen.

More Posts from Mitsukii-07 and Others

1 month ago
Surely, Surely, Surely

surely, surely, surely

1 month ago

Stone Skipping

Stone Skipping

Summary: The Batfamily has always been so crazy that no one notices the silent sister. She’s made her way through college with no one else realizing, sometimes forgetting about her completely. How many times can she bounce back before sinking?

Warnings: Angst?

Request: No

Pairing?: Family; Batfamily x Sister! Reader

———

A smile dawned on the young women’s face as her friends cheerfully greeted her. (Y/n) Wayne was a popular girl at the University whether it be by her looks, brains, or money she was certainly no idiot. It was her college graduation, a huge day for so many people this year and even bigger for her as her family swore they'd attend. They hadn’t gone to anything related to her success since, well, ever! (Y/n) tried not to get bothered by it, brushing it off calmly. She knew her father and brothers were busy people, far to go to every little thing that revolved around her.

This time however, they promised they’d come. No playing hero, no meetings, no dates, just be a supportive family like she had seen them be. It was the only thing she wished to have, her family there for her and to spend time with her. They had gone to Tim’s high school graduation but not hers due to Poison Ivy. They couldn’t got to an orchestra concert that she was part of because of a meeting. They didn’t even bother to wonder what school (Y/n) had chosen to attend.

Yeah, she was ticked off by it but she understood. Their jobs were important, they saved people, she was part of that people. The world needed them both ways, civilian and hero. (Y/n) didn’t have a place in the hero department, she was just an average person that walked the streets and attended school. Her brothers chased villains at night and ran businesses and had jobs in the morning. The only thing (Y/n) had was her looks and her brains, mostly her brains. She would graduate to become better in the medical field, she was going somewhere in life and she was happy about it.

That’s why the heartbroken feeling flowed through her as she got her diploma. No one but Alfred was there, she appreciated the fact that he came but the rest of the family had no excuse. She was updated on the news constantly, no attacks in Gotham or anywhere else in the world. The world was quiet and her heart shatttering was the only thing to be heard. A false but well practiced smile came along her face before she walked down the steps.

Alfred watched her sadly, he couldn’t believe he was the only one that had arrived. He was the only one to truly have seen the amazing young woman that she was now. Seeing her walk down the steps toward the rest of her class with a false smile made his anger grow. She had never complained about one thing in her whole life except for once, that one time when she complained that Bruce spent to much time doing work with her brothers rather than them all spending time as a family. (Y/n) had been 12 when that happened and her brothers only scowled at her for her words.

Dick was nicer about how he went about it, saying that the world needed them as both civilians and heroes so they didn’t have much free time. It was true but they weren’t the words that (Y/n) wanted to hear at that moment.

Tim was blunt about it, Alfred tried to blame it on the lack of sleep but neither parties had believed that. He said that she should’ve joined the group and worked for it rather than whine about it. (Y/n) almost smacked him for that but she kept her control on the situation.

Jason had been thought to be dead but when he heard about it he just gave her pitiful look and told her it was too dangerous and if Bruce wanted her in the tradition then he would have. (Y/n) frowned at him but she had known it was the truth, she told him to no longer pity her before she left the room.

Bruce had just sighed and said they’d talk about it at another time, they never did.

It was Damian that surprised him, he just nodded at her in understanding. Alfred had later heard two sounds of crying from (Y/n)’s room that night. He left it alone but he had at least hoped Damian would be there to congratulate her.

“Congratulations Miss Wayne,” Alfred said as he wrapped her in a hug as soon as he reunited with her. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Alfred. I’m glad you could be here, do you know where the others are?”

The butler saw hope in her eyes, just a small spark but it killed his to extinguish it. “I’m afraid not. Master Bruce hasn’t come home from work and neither has Master Tim. Master Dick is at his home. Master Jason is who knows where.”

“And Damian?”

“I believe he got caught up at school.”

(Y/n) nodded, that made sense at the very least. Education was important and if Damian missed any of his own she’d never forgive herself. Yes, she was very aware that her little brother was a Senior and the best in his year who could probably afford to miss a few day but she’d never let him. It was her other brothers and father that disappointed her, she didn’t bother tell Steph about it, the girl was so forgetful at times. Cass was in China so there was no point in calling her from a case to see if she could come.

Alfred watched sadly as the young woman hugged her friends goodbye before they left. She had a family here and now she was leaving it. (Y/n) climbed into the passenger side of the car and looked out of the window as they drove toward Gotham.

When they got home Bruce stood there inside, waiting at the door. “Alfred! There you are! I was worried you might have been kidnapped.”

“I was fine Master Bruce,” Alfred responded, sending a cold look toward the man. “However, I have work to do and Miss (Y/n) is here now. Why don’t you catch up with her? Lot’s to talk about I’m sure.”

A small smile graced the female’s lips but was replaced by a frown as her father shook her head. “I can’t, I have work to do for the League.”

“Why do you never want to spend time with me?” (Y/n) blurted out loud. She was tired of brushing it off all the time because she herself was brushed off.

Bruce sighed, “It’s not like that. Besides we talk a lot don’t we? You know I’m a busy man, I can’t just drop everything because you wish to spend time with me.”

“So where were you today?”

“What? What happened today?”

The (h/c) haired woman rolled her eyes, “You claim you be there for the people when they need you. Well guess what dad? I needed you today, at my college graduation, the one you promised you’d go to when the only one that had come was Alfred? Well I’m sorry that I complain about not getting to spend time with my own damned family!

“I hoped that you wouldn’t forget or randomly come up as busy but I should’ve known to never get my hopes up when it comes to you and the rest of my brothers! The only reason why Damian is off the hook is because he had school, you have no excuse. You were never there. Never once. You know nothing but my name.”

“I know lots about you sweetheart.”

“Really? What’s my favorite color?”

“(Most hated color).”

(Y/n) shook her head, “It’s (Favorite color). Face it you know nothing about me. I made the mistake of coming back here. I’m leaving after all my stuff is packed and I say goodbye to Damian and Alfred. I’m done being brushed off to the side. And for the record, this is my second time complaining about this. Last time was ten years ago.”

With that the woman brushed past her father, taking her packed things from college behind her and toward the bedrooms. She was tired of being brushed off, she was leaving Gotham behind, for good. Now, she just had to see if her little brother wanted to come with her.

Notes: I may make a second part of requested. Tell me how you liked it. This is my first piece of work on tumblr for writing.

1 month ago
Cuddle Bug

Cuddle Bug

summary: a flashfic exploration of Wally's inability to be anything but a plural image when you're within reach. aka: he's codependent as fuck and neither you nor he care.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. smut lite. AU - everyone is alive (zesty). lore established offscreen.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🍃

Wally Clark's love language is physical touch. No surprise there. The guy needs cuddles like flowers need sunlight to thrive. Always has. Being a ghost for 40 years exacerbated that need, and now that he's a real boy again, he can't help himself. Wally sits too close, hugs hello and goodbye, touches arms and knees when he's telling a story.

It's just that much more amped up when it comes to you.

He was affectionate before you and he became inseparable. Lightly grazed your hand when he walked beside you, found every excuse to tackle you when he tried to teach you football techniques. Ajay and Charley stood there like extra wheels even though it'd been Wally who'd rallied everyone to the field.

What? Your giggle's so damn cute! No way was Wally going to be able to focus on anything else!

Besides Charley's just as bad when Yuri's around, and Simon can't even function when Maddie gives him the eyes. So, everyone can suck it as far as Wally's concerned.

During group activities, Wally would find a way to sit next to you. Would squish his long limbs between you and Maddie and give you a bright, boyish grin. Sometimes he'd stare Xavier down until he got the hint and scooched closer to Nicole at the lunch table, leaving a gap that Wally could settle into beside you. His arm around your shoulders and his knee touching yours. Totally innocent.

Wally brought your favorite snacks to Game Night, established himself as your personal chauffeur despite the fact that you lived closer to Simon and Rhonda, and loyally helped you filter clothes when you and the girls went shopping. Yes. He'd made himself one of the girls just to spend time with you. Don't look at him like that; it worked, didn't it? 👀

Since accepting him as your boyfriend (he grins so big, his cheeks ache), Wally's dependence on your touch, warmth, shape against his, has increased a hundredfold.

You sit on the picnic table before the first bell, chatting to Maddie and Claire about something Wally isn't listening to, his arms around your waist, upper body slumped between your legs, head resting on your thigh as you rake your fingers through his thick hair. Oh, he could die all over again and be the happiest of ghosts just for this. Not that he wants to be a ghost again. Not unless you're with him this time. Which would require you to die, too, and that's a terrible thought and he's never going to tell you about it. But the sentiment remains. Wally doesn't want to do anything without you, ever.

He managed to convince the secretary to put him in all your classes, pouting and pleading his case that he'd been dead since 1983 and, "it's so traumatic coming back, she's the only thing I have that feels real...please?" A tactic that he should stop abusing, but it worked on all the teachers when he requested to be sat next to you. Every time a teacher caved, Wally would fold into the desk beside you, beaming like a winner. And who cares? Mina and Ajay, and Charley and Yuri pulled the same doe-eyed trick and got what they wanted, why couldn't Wally do the same?

On Fridays, everyone piles into Wally's high school best friend's living room—Rodney now Wally's legal guardian for reasons—to have movie marathons. There's trivia to guess the movie. Winner gets one veto and can insert their own choice, but there's three movies in total so pick wisely! They figured out awhile ago that Wally sometimes (always) lets you win trivia when it's his turn to play his lineup. You never veto anything, equally as eager to watch what he opts for. It drives Simon and Ajay insane.

He takes over a whole couch, the three-seater, sprawls long-ways and tucks you between his legs, your body draped over him like a blanket as he wraps his arms around you and doesn't let go for anything. He traces patterns on your back, cradles your head against his chest, soaks up the physical contact like a sponge after years of ghostly numbness.

In the school halls, Wally keeps his hand on your hip. He kisses your head and cheeks and jaw. Doesn't care who sees because you're his girl and he'll do what he wants, thank you. He's proud that you call him yours and wants to show off who his heart belongs to. This one! This one said yes!

You're in his lap more than your own seat when the group descends upon Max's Diner after football games (that, no, Wally doesn't participate in. That era is firmly in the past and he'll never don a jersey again; sorry mom, God bless, rest in peace). His hands are all over you as you engage Rhonda in conversation; on your thighs, waist, back, hips. Anywhere and everywhere that's still appropriate in public. His head under your chin, eyes closed as he listens to your heartbeat, strong and steady, the rhythm matching his.

Wally rolls over in his bed, crushes you beneath his weight as he plays dead—knock on wood that that won't happen again for many years—and tries to stifle his laughter when you struggle to reverse the position. Eventually, he showers your skin with kisses, nudges between your thighs and laces his fingers with yours, pressing his smile to yours before kissing you deeply.

The sex is amazing, but nothing beats the afterglow when he has you pliant and sweet, curled into him on your side, your face in his chest, his hand on your lower back, whispering how much he loves you as you doze. Call him codependent, but Wally doesn't want to spend even an hour without you. He isn't a lost puppy, knows how to behave like a man. He just spent too many years being forgotten that he still has trust issues.

And you don't mind. You welcome it, in fact, and that makes Wally feel safer than he ever has. It makes it easy to ignore the looks people give you and him when you agree to go somewhere, "only if Wally's invited, too" because you and he are a package deal. And he does the same for you. Obviously, not for the same reasons, you're perfectly fine being alone, it's just that Wally's not ready to experiment with your absence just yet. Maybe never will be.

Rodney's long since accepted that Wally's room has become your room. From married and childless to married with several formerly-dead teenagers and their SOs, Rodney and his wife have accepted their homebase status like champs. They treat you like family—you have a house key for the rare occasion Wally isn't with you after school—and acknowledge that Wally can't sleep without you without suffering.

He stays curled around you all night, kisses you awake, big hand trailing from your waist to your hip as he nips the top knot of your spine and grinds his morning wood against your ass. God, you get him hard so easily, Wally sometimes thinks he should get checked out. You hum then sigh then turn in his arms, hook a leg over his and press yourself against him in exactly the right way.

Through half-lidded eyes, Wally gazes at you. Licks his lips as he rocks his hips slowly and watches your expression go from sleepsoft to wanting. You like how that feels baby? You want it inside you? And he kisses you deep and thorough, rolls you onto your back to fit between your legs, groans when one of your hands squeezes his ass through his boxer-briefs.

He needs to be inside you yesterday, loves how you feel, tight and wet and hot around him. Soft touches turn hard, light sweeps of lips turn to teeth and tongue and fresh bruises on your neck. Wally loves to taste you first, to prolong his pleasure by giving you yours, his tongue delving into you and sucking your clit gently; deliriously slow because he can't get enough.

It's not until you're begging him so pretty for his cock that he finally lets himself fuck into you, so hard and sensitive his brain explodes upon fitting deep inside you on the first thrust. A refrain of fuck, yes and oh God baby, you feel so good fills the room—sorry Rodney—the headboard smacking against the wall in time with Wally's hips. Throughout, Wally holds you like something precious, kisses you like salvation, breathes you in like he can't live without you.

He makes sure you come first before he even thinks about letting go, the sensation of you shaking apart around him ripping his own release right from his core. Wally licks into your mouth, moans like a beast, and then, one two three more stunted thrusts and he goes still. Hazy eyes hold yours and you can see the depth of his emotion for you. At least, he hopes so. How he'll treasure you forever. He'll never love anyone as much as he loves you. That's a promise and a threat and he smiles a lazy smile at you as you begin to giggle.

"What's so funny, baby?" Wally nudges your cheek with his nose.

"Nothing, I promise, I'm just...really happy." You tell him and he moans in delight.

"You don't feel suffocated or claustrophobic like Rhonda said you would?" Wally asks, a little insecure. Okay, a lot insecure, even if he doesn't usually feel that way about how reliant he is on your proximity. You've never given him a reason to feel anything but safe and happy and loved, but still. Rhonda knows how to hit bone even when she means well.

You shift, forcing Wally to look at you, your hands cradling his jaw, "Never. I will never, ever want this, us, to be anything but exactly how it is. I love having you all over me."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." And you grin, a warm little thing, "I like sharing everything with you. It's nice. My very own witness to my life."

Wally kisses you again, another slow, deep, sentimental gesture; everything he feels poured into it, before he settles down on top of you, careful not to crush you, his head above your breasts and his eyes fluttering closed. Relaxed. Sated. Safe.

Wally Clark's love language is physical touch, and, in this second chance at life, he's profoundly grateful to have found someone fluent in it.

🍃___________fin.____________

also on AO3!

if you liked this, you may also enjoy Fifty Seven.

fluff. between 1982 and 1983, Wally meets and falls completely head over heels for a girl who changes everything. his biggest fan, his greatest love. you.

1 month ago

Smalltown!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfamily: Part One - Rewrite

Smalltown!Meta!Reader X Yandere!Batfamily: Part One - Rewrite

A/N: I got stuck on the action scenes in Part Nine and decided Hey, I should rewrite the earlier parts since my writing has improved. Only to realized, a lot of shit went down in those earlier parts. lol. help. This is 4.6k words and I have to make into two parts because so much happened.

Link to the Original Part One.

Warning: Parental Death, talks of grief, Bruce being an obsessive and cryptic mf, Alfred being a bit delulu, attempted GN!Reader.

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You had a happy childhood. You know that. You've always known that. People had repetitively said it to you. Over and over again. Blessed. Lucky. Privileged. Not just with material things, but with affection and talents. And, it seemed to increase as you got older and the circle of people you interacted with slowly began to expand and bubble around you. Sure there were some struggles. Some terrifying and suffocating moments. But, life was good.

You were quite serious as a child when you were told to be grateful for what you had. You'd say that mind et helped you retain some level of humility. But, in reality, you were grateful because you were selfish and didn't want to lose what you had. Not even for something better. You had enough. You could make the rain fall or the sunshine or even make a snowman on a hot summer day. And, you were loved. What more could you want?

The children's stories about being greedy stuck with you. So, being a little selfish was fine, but being greedy was not.

Besides, there was nothing to be greedy for. You had loving parents, lived in a wonderful community. Fresh air, good food, good clothes. An annoying, but lovable little brother.

Life was practically perfect.

I mean, sure, you had to live with the knowledge that Daddy wasn't your real father. It wasn't something that had been hidden from you. You knew, you were told. He loved you all the same and spoiled you almost as much as he did your Momma.

The way he loved you was without question. You might have thought he would have been weirded out when you discovered you were a meta, but out of everyone in the town and in the family, he had been your rock. He'd been the one to sit with you when you struggled not to make it rain in the house. When you accidentally shot off lighting when you sneezed. When your crush said you looked cute and a snow flurry followed you around for three days.

But, there was the fact that you just wanted to know who it was. Daddy even agreed that you should have been told who the man was. Not that even he knew. He didn't care about knowing who the man was. He'd probably just thank him for giving him such a blessing before containing to enjoy his easy going life.

You weren't greedy with it. In fact, you had dropped the topic after months of asking.

So why did everything fall apart if you didn't commit the sin of greed?

Why were you standing over two graves in the back of the family property surrounded by your loving town?

You couldn't muster the will to let rain fall. Rain was your delight. A delight you shared with Momma and Daddy. With them gone, seemed the only thing to fall was you and Lukie-boy's tears.

Condolences and condolences. You knew everyone meant well, but right now all you wanted was to curl up in Momma and Daddy's bed with your little brother and bury yourself under the covers. Just pretend this was a nightmare.

You didn't care that you were almost an adult, the grief left you feeling strangely like a child.

Nana had taken over most of the proceedings. While Granddaddy kept you and Luke close. You couldn't stop yourself from leaning into him. Being reminded to the silently way Daddy would hold you. Nana had a tendency to be overbearing and she was even more so today as she fluttered about Luke and you with concern.

You had to remind yourself she was also burying her son, and that made you hold back your tongue and most of your tears.

It wasn't until everyone moved back to the church building for some food that you felt the shift in the atmosphere. One you know you hadn't caused yourself with your lack of energy at the moment.

There was a man. He wore a sharply fitted black suit. Faintly you heard Mae mutter that it was Tom Ford in the same tone she used when speaking about her fabric and bugs.

You didn't recognize him. In fact, no one seemed to recognize him. That was until you really looked at him and you meet his gaze with your own solemn one.

Everyone said you were a sweet child. But, Mae was your best friend and she had little filter on her thoughts. And, you recall what she had said to you once after that long forgotten incident in the bayou a few years back.

"When you frown, when your eyes narrow, when your nose wrinkles in anger and annoyance, you're entire face reminds me of a dark and stormy night. Like from the stories. Even when your eyes glow, there's a shadow sometimes."

You had seen what she was talking about in the mirror once. Had wondered who it was you had gotten that from. It wasn't from Momma, or MawMaw, or Gab. But, you remember the way your Momma would sometimes look at you when you got like that. The way she'd poke your sides until it went away or held you close until it melted it off.

You didn't know who you got it from back then.

You did now.

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Bruce had hoped this day would come, but not like this. Not in a way that felt like history repeating it's self once more.

Two people dead, but this time two children left.

He wasn't even meant to get the call from what he knew. It was an accident. Something he was grateful for when he pushed that DNA test on Adeline all those years ago. A social worker, fresh to the field, called the manor. Luckily, Alfred had picked up the call. And, right when Bruce had walked down the steps, nearly missing the last one when he saw the expression on his face. One he has seen a few times before.

"Yes, he's just come down. I'll inform him myself, and he will be there promptly. No, no, travel will not be an issue. Thank you, Ma'am. Have a pleasant evening." The elderly man's voice remained stoic and composed, but Bruce watched him lean all his weight onto the decades old accent table enough for him to hear both, the bones of his Butler and the table, creek.

Alfred pressed a hand to his face, only letting out a sigh when he wanted to curse. Curse the word. Curse the Wayne name, curse the blood. Just scream at the cursed world. But, he didn’t.

He couldn't even bring himself to look at Bruce. His son. Knowing that this would break another piece of him once more.

"Ms. Adeline and her husband have passed."

Bruce's reaction is immediate as he moves in a rush. "The children-"

"Alive and well. Or, as well as they may be, all things considered," Alfred manages to finally take a weary breath before letting out an exhausted exhale.

"Drunk driver. Ms. Adeline and her husband had been on a date that evening. The children had been home. They pulled the car from one of the swamps this morning after a fisherman spotted it. It- It appears Ms. Adeline was rendered unconscious during the crash. And, Mr. Anderson drowned trying to unbuckle her." The old butler manages to keep a slightly even tone when speaking. Relaying the information he managed to garnish from the young social worker.

For Bruce it was a tragic sigh of relief. You were alright, but not alright. Tragedy had struck you, but not taken you.

"I'll be leaving to get-"

"The young Jean-Luc is already set to stay with his grandparents. But, the courts deemed you fit to take custody of our-" Alfred coughs, catching himself.

"Understood." Bruce grits his teeth. He doesn't want to separate siblings, but maybe you being around your other siblings will be enough. Besides, he can petition for custody. Surely an elderly couple would prefer their grandson stay with his closest relative?"

"I'll have my secretary arrange a flight out and clear my schedule. We need to cover all press leaks as well." Batman was in control now, already coming up with a plan and mentally coming up with a new patrol roster for the coming few days while he heads towards the cave.

"Alfred, prepare a room for them, please." He also asks, knowing the older man would need something to do unless Bruce wanted him to nearly exhaust himself by cleaning the manor top to bottom.

"Which room, sir?"

Bruce pauses to consider the options in the manor. Most of the rooms having been filled by the others or are in need of repair.

But, one does pop into mind.

"The Madam's Room."

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During the flight to that little backwater town in Louisiana, Bruce passes the time with his own thoughts. It's only a four hour flight by private jet, but, for a man like him, playing with the thoughts in his head can be dangerous.

The 'what if's linger in his mind. The few times he's allowed himself to stare at you through the screen of the Bat computer on your birthday. The occasional way he'd let his eye's linger on Adeline. Noting how she's aged like wine. How she remained soft and warm in each image and her only wrinkles were faint and clearly from sunshine and laughter. Faintly he could hear it echo even now. The throaty sound added to the list of things that haunt him.

Sometimes his eyes would linger on Jean-Luc in those rare instances. The boy an exact replica of his mother, with her warm brown eyes and curls. Sometimes, he'd pretend they were dark blue like his own. But, only for a second before he wiped to computer's hard drive and replaced it with another one.

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Your feelings over the entire matter were… complicated. You certainly didn’t expect to find out your biological father was one of THE richest men in the entire world.

But, it was just such an odd situation.

You had wondered about him, yes. But, you didn’t want to leave everything behind in your hometown.

Nana had thrown an absolute fit about him taking you. It was almost terrifying to watch the sweet woman you loved practically spittle with rage. Though in her defense, he had offered to take Lukie-boy too. Like an added bonus. Apparently he collected orphans judging from your quick google search in the bathroom after his arrival. Guess that means you fit his criteria now.

You had flinched when he’d done that. You understood he was trying to keep the two of you together - you did appreciate that, but the dirt over Momma and Daddy’s graves had barely settled before he’d made the offer in that almost posh accent of his.

It had soured things a bit, but you tried. You had tried.

Reassuring Nana that you’d call her every week helped her cope a bit. Telling her you’d promise to keep her updated helped soothe her some. And, asking her that she help by just focusing on Luke seemed to bring her back to reality.

Though she did grumble and get that terrifying look in her eyes when your family lawyer, one of the town residence explained that a new social worker had made the call to him accident. That same look that made Momma weary and Daddy's face age. But, they weren't here any more so there was only you to watch with furrowed brows.

Instead you hugged Luke, kissed his curls like Momma used to only to the be pulled into tight embraces and firm grips by nearly everyone you knew before boarding the private jet with your father.

It felt weird to say father.

Daddy was dead. Drowned and buried and in the dirt. Yet, here was your father. You didn't want to replace Daddy.

You also didn’t know how to react. How to handle this new father. And, you guess neither did he. Since for the first two hours of your flight to Gotham city, the man was completely silent. So instead you decided to look for similarities. Already you found one.

Momma had a thing for the quite type, you decided.

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Bruce couldn't really bring himself to say anything. To see you in person finally after all the years, made something in him break and the pieces collide back together suddenly. He's seen still shots with the highest quality imaging. Videos and audios with the best equipment money could by or he could create.

But, there was something different about watching you breath and blink in real life. No need to rewind and watch the footage again. To pretended he was there in those moments. He had you here beside him now. His baby.

And, you were beautiful.

Just as beautiful to him as you were in the first image he'd received of you in that clear hospital nursery cradle. He stands by his previous thoughts. You had his mother's eyes. And, now grown you had even more of his mother's features, blended together with your own mother, of course. Something he strangely found himself grateful for. A small reminder that he had once held a softer woman once. Even if he ended up letting her go.

But, he was afraid. This was a different fear than when he was introduced to Damian. Damian had been a surprised, not entirely un-welcomed. But, Bruce knew Damian was expecting Batman as his father. You were expecting Bruce Wayne. And, Bruce Wayne as a father didn't exist.

The media may say otherwise, but it was an act. And, he couldn't give you an act. He wouldn't. He wasn't going to lie to you. But, he needed you to be safe. Especially now. Especially when you had such sad eyes and a frown like his own on your face from a loss he deeply understood, but couldn't help you with. Not in the way you needed. Your hands were far to delicate for justice.

He'd already made plans to track down the driver that knocked Adeline and her husband into the bayou as you called it. He could see the way you shudder and how your eyes would water each time your mother and step-father's drowning was mentioned. Something he desperately wanted to ask about. A fear he could sense that he so deeply wanted to understand.

Instead, he finally broke his silence after you both were halfway to Gotham.

"Don't worry about being introduced to everyone right away. I want you to take some time to get acclimated to the Manor. Settle in a bit and find a new routine." He finally said, hiding the rough raw emotions he was feeling from sheer will power.

"I appreciate it, sir." Hearing you drawl even though your voice was hoarse was something Bruce found himself taking a deep breath over. Letting it sink in.

"You don't have to call me 'sir'. I know you have manners and all that, but you can call me," Father, Dad - give him the title he desperately wants, "Bruce. If you'd prefer."

"Understood, sir-- I mean, Bruce." You trail off, awkwardly. The silence filling the air. The jet was clearly one of the fancier breeds, considering you couldn't even hear the engines and use them as white noise.

"Um, what's Gotham like?" You finally decided to ask. Crossing your ankles in and attempt to relax while your eyed drift towards him again.

His eyes strangely seem to light up at your question, though a frown tugs at his lips.

"It is, in short summary, dangerous. There a lot of crime in the city. You'll defiantly be staying in the manor after dark."

You try ignore how he's instantly ordering you around. Like your not seventeen. Like you didn't just leave a loving home where you were allowed to float on the breeze through the bayou's trees at whatever hour you pleased. Things were going to be different, and you'd accept that. For now.

"What's the manor like?" You decided to ask instead. Concluding it was a fairly safe question.

"Oh, I think you'll like it." Was all he said while smiling warmly.

Already you wanted to smack him. You wanted conversation, not to talk to a damn cryptic.

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You should’ve taken Bruce’s ambiguous nature at face value for what your life was about to become.

Quite.

You wouldn’t have minded too much, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were stuck inside Wayne Manor while Bruce got all the paperwork set up for your fancy new school and the fact that he wanted to ease you into things at a snails pace.

Though you wouldn’t forget about the overwhelming nature of the entire situation. Looking up at the veritable brick castle of multiple styles you’d seen throughout decades of different architectural trends. The only comment you had gotten from him when you asked about it was that it had been in the Wayne family for over a century while he smiled proudly. Like that single sentence was enough to fill the silence.

You didn’t like silence.

Even when you were alone, you liked to listen. To music, to the wind, to raindrops, to the cicadas and crickets chirping back home. Not hollow echoing silence.

What made it worse was that Bruce practically disappeared after he introduced you to the family butler. A kindly old man that already gave you a fond look as you toddled after like a helpless newborn duck still learning how to swim and trying not to drown. His smile growing even wider when you asked your polite questions about the history of the manor, wanting to feel some familiarity if you were going to be stuck in these dark wood paneled hallways with red carpets.

Apparently, the house castle was built in the Colonial period. Fascinating, when were the gargoyles added then? Keep talking, please. You didn’t want to deal with thoughts of your grief and loneliness.

It was up two flights of stairs that you really got hit with the reality of your situation.

You remember the soft greens and earthy tones your mother was fond off when decorating your childhood home. The white trim that caught the light from the windows. The light oak wood floor that somehow felt softer than the carpets here. Even in the shadowed corners the most dangerous thing you’d find was a dust bunny. Your own room filled with dusty blues and soft whites and greys like a cloudy sky.

Here, you were hit with RED.

So much red. Dark floral wallpaper, that you’d admit was gorgeous in its vividness. But, it almost overwhelmed you. Not even the cream colored sheets and curtains could make it any less underwhelming.

“This is the Madam’s Room. Primarily, it’s been used as a closet and dressing room by previous ladies of the house. An example being your late-grandmother. I’ve taken the liberty of having her portrait hung over the mantel with your great-grandmother also having her portrait in here as well.” You couldn’t even be upset by the hint of pride in the man’s voice. The room was beautiful, tastefully decorated. Charming. Sophisticated. Historical. A million different of fancy words. But, it wasn’t home.

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth, sir.” You murmured looking around the room while giving him your best attempt at a smile.

Your eyes catching the aforementioned portrait over the fireplace. The breath in your chest catching. Everyone always said you looked like Momma just with different eyes and a few other little things. They didn’t feel so little now. You looked too much like the woman in the portrait. Way too much like her.

“My own room is right across the hall in case you need anything else, my dear. Please, do not hesitate to ask. And, most importantly, you are more than welcome to call me Alfred.” You snap out of your thoughts and let your manners take over, smiling politely and nodding along.

“Thank you, Mr. Alfred, sir. I most appreciate it.” You hide behind a grateful tone that seems to make him look at you with an even fonder expression.

“I’ll let you to get settled in then, my dear. Feel free to add your own touches and take it easy. Everyone else is out of the manor at the moment so don’t worry about having to entertain any questions for the time being.”

God, you’d rather answer the most invasive questions in existence than be alone right now in such an unfamiliar place. But, you smile anyway.

“Thank you, again. I really do appreciate it, sir.” Are your finally words before your left alone and the thoughts creep in.

It isn’t until you’re unpacking a few of the little things you grabbed from your room and the clothes that don’t even begin to fill the closet that it hits you. Your little happy lightning cloud pillow looking like a children’s toy on the pillows. It technically is one, but seeing it makes you realize you don’t really feel like a child anymore. Though you still cling to it as you cry softly.

You don’t bother causing it to rain.

Instead, it’s noted by those on patrol, how that particular Gotham night is unusually warm.

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Alfred felt unfortunately blessed. Bruce wanted to ease the poor child into life in Gotham, but just from how overwhelmed they were he could tell it was not going to be like any of them expected things to go.

But, it was nice. Pleasant to have someone that just wanted to lightly talk without the long history of patching up their skin and mending their bones to contact them. He would admit he thought often of Martha.

Alfred could easily conclude he was growing sentimental. But, he excused that. It was common at his age. Instead he just enjoyed your company while Bruce had the rest of the family hold back their introductions.

Though really. Bruce’s antics were a little less amusing this time around. Waiting until you were in the house and settled into bed before abruptly calling a family meeting to announce your presence? He doesn’t blame the others for being outraged. They should have at least been informed before you arrived. Though, he supposed it was for the best. It would have to do now, regardless.

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“Alright, B-man. What’s this about? No one’s escaped Arkham, and I have Alfred’s birthday marked on my phone’s calendar. So this better be important.” Jason had sat back in one of the caves chairs, possibly Tim’s judging from how he kept giving him a dirty look for creating his feet near some tech junk on the metal counter in front of him.

“What about the rest of our birthday’s?” Steph had to ask, grinning at him from her own perch next to weapons rack.

“Not as important.” Jason dismissed with a wave of his hand causing her to snicker. Duke also chuckled from his own seat, before sat more at attention. Or, at least as much as he could considering he was just about to head out on patrol.

"Didn't include your own birthday in that?" Dick quipped back, stretching the tension from his shoulders after the drive from Bludhaven. He had also picked up Barbara on the way which had added extra time. She had her chair rolled up to one of the tables where Cass was sitting cross legged on.

Only Cass wasn't in a joking mood, she was to busy observing Bruce. Noting the flickers of multiple contradictory emotions in him. Damian's eyes drifted towards her from where he stood at attention. Already suspicion brewing in his gaze at what she could possibly be reading from the family's patriarch.

“Does this have anything to do with that guest your brought to the manor?” Barbara eventually asked, catching everyone’s attention before their heads swiveled to Bruce. A guest meant they had to be careful in the manor, or at least above ground. Below it things were clear to run like normal.

“Great.” Stephanie said dryly, “How long are we going to be running like this?”

“A while.” Bruce finally answered after a moment. For once feeling out of his depth to explain this. As Alfred walking into the cave, he knew it was time.

“I believe they’re asleep now. The poor dear seemed exhausted.” The older man said while taking a seat himself, his eyes solemn and soft.

In a room of raised detectives they caught the look and the way Bruce was acting.

“Really, Father? Another stray? Thomas was bad enough don’t you.” Damian comments with little heat behind his words while Duke gives him a look of mock outrage.

“This one isn’t a stray.” Bruce admits, knowing that Damian was about to take this the hardest.

“You flew to Louisiana for them. A bit far for your usual route?” Barbara questions already rolling away from the table and towards him.

“Did you finally sign up for one of those adoption websites and get an alert?” Jason scoffed a bit.

“No. They aren’t adopted. They’re my biological child. Officially.” He finally announced, wanting to get the worst of it out of the way.

That seemed to stun everyone for a moment. However, Dick was the first to recover. Catching how serious Bruce was being. “Bruce, is this another Damian?”

Damian bristled at the question, but knew Dick didn’t mean anything harmful by it. However his breath did catch when it was Alfred that answered.

“No, Master Bruce was informed of their birth and subsequently had a DNA test done years previous.”

That made everyone’s heads spin. But, not as much as Damian’s.

“You knew about them and, you never told me?” He had meant to say ‘us’, but this was different. This was a blood matter. And, while he knew blood didn’t truly matter to make a family, it did forge a connection between people willing or unwillingly.

“Hold on, is this from the worst of your playboy days?” Barbara asked, trying to wrap her head around it.

“Yes. But, it was a particular woman. None of you meat her, except Jason.”

Heads and eyes and ears turned to him instead, watching for his reaction.

“Don’t look at me, he went through like fifteen women—“

“It was Adeline.”

Oh.

Jason remembered her. Hell, he had actually liked her. She lasted about three weeks longer than all the others. And, she was softer, warmer, with a drawl that he sometimes imagined reading to him. She hadn’t tried to be motherly to him, but it was clear to him she could’ve been. She could’ve been a lot of things.

But, Bruce had thought her too sweet and too good. And, had let her go. Jason had been sad about it. But, not distraught. It really was for the best, he'd thought. She had been to good for Bruce.

However, if he knew one thing, her kid probably had the best childhood in existence. And, away from Bruce to boot.

“The Cajun and Creole southern belle.” Was all he commented, drawing a few raised brows.

“With a bit more... spice than we anticipated. She had won full custody of their child while Bruce had been on a league mission.” Alfred added to the subject. Making Tim whistle a bit.

“Oh, damn. Those lawyers must have been good.” Was all he could find himself adding to the tense conversation.

“So, they’re… normal?” Was Stephanie next inquiry. Already feeling that spark of jealousy in her chest. A normal childhood only to end up with Bruce as your surprise dad? Talk about winning the genetic lottery.

“Yes. They’re ‘normal’. I don’t want them involved with any of our night work. Everyone is to keep it under wraps.”

“Until?”

“There is no until. Keep it under wraps.”

It was then everyone realized, Bruce was willing to throw away their entire routines and make their jobs more stressful just for this person. A person he saw fit not to trust any of them with. A person he was prioritizing over them, and possibly over the mission.

And, that pissed off more than a few of them.

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Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury @lilyalone @addie-r-u-ok @space1crow @imaginarydreams @dhanyasri @rosalietodd013 @rissareader @rando2509 @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @interobanginyourmom @heyitsaloy @myanyan-me @animegoddess15 @resident-cryptid @schaarfyx @skwunkler @erikasurfer @enchantingarcadecreation @redkarmakai @be3b0o @couldeatthatgirlforlunch @ratchetprime211 @labryel @kawaii-cakes @linaisadream @vanessa-boo @m0063576 @oooof-ifellforyou @minkyungseokie @theseustimes @the-ruler-of-death @blueberry19000 @ghostdoodlen @victxria024 @nebulousmoon3990 @bad4amficideas @momentomoribitch @heyitsaloy @grossstinkygoblin @sg-obsessedfreak @anakilusmos @alittletiredcry @stargirl404 @bath1lda @kittzu @numbu5 @stickyricewithmangosauce @twismare @atanukileaf @nommingonfood @bunniotomia @jensenacklestoothpick @jellystar-star

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A/N: Sooooo, what we think? Improvement, I hope? Don't worry, the neglected bits are coming and Yandere bs going to begin. I'm just tightening things up a bit.

A/N: Here's my Ko-Fi link. (My husband encouraged me to make it for diet coke, my weakness.)

2 months ago

Wednesday Addams X Female Reader.

Wednesday Addams X Female Reader.

SERIES:

Blade Of Miquella (Angst-Comfort-Mystery) [Celine’s own work (COMPLETE)

Love Me Leave Me (Angst-Tragedy-Self-harm) [Celine+Simon’s work] Love Me Leave Me Good Ending Part 1 (Angst-Self Harm-Comfort) [Celine+ Simon Work] Her Heartbeat (Fluff-Angst-Hurt to Comfort) [Celine+Simon’s work] (COMPLETE)

The Maiden Of Death (Angst-Dark) [Simon’s work] ONE SHOTS:

She Wishes (Angst-Regret) [Simon’s work]

Would you? a part 2 of “She Wishes” (Angst-Regret) [Simon’s work]

You deserved better. (Angst-Wedding) [Simon’s work]

It doesn’t matter. (Angst-Depression-Suicide) [Simon’s work]

Lost Valentine’s. (Angst-Sad Ending) [Simon’s work]

Anything (Angst-comfort) [Simon’s work]

Insecurities (Angst-Sad Ending) [Simon’s work]

Operation Oreo (Fluff) [Simon’s work]

Not A Bad Day (Fluff) [Simon’s work]

Woeful Tooth. (set in the “Not A Bad Day” universe) (Fluff) [Simon’s work]

Ugly Sweater Party. (set in the “Not A Bad Day” universe)(Fluff)[Simon’s work]

Not a bad Christmas. (set in the “Not A Bad Day” universe) (Fluff) [Simon’s work]

Take Me To Church (Light Angst-Comfort) [Simon’s Work]

Things She Hates (Fluff-Comedy) [Simon’s work]

Wednesday gets Ghosted… literally (Fluff-Halloween Special) [Simon’s Work] . .

💥UPCOMING WORKS 💥 . .

Our other works

Jade West X Tori Vega:

2 days of love.(Angst-Tragedy)[Celine’s own Work]

(Summary: 2 days of love was all she needed)

GHOSTS ( Angst-Tragedy-Revenge) [AO3 LINK][Celine+Simon’s work](Summary:  After losing the one she loved, trying to find justice, she took the path of revenge, following a Ghost of the past, trying to find the meaning of her life, but how can she do that if the only one who gave her life meaning was gone?)

1 month ago

Ppl like grumpy x sunshine more than “paint me like one of your French girls” and I mean- if you’re making a series and go for the most votes… can you at least make a one shot on “paint me like one of your French girls”?

Please? For me? 🥺🥺🥺

For the brains behind soul painter?? 👉👈

-🍄🍄🍄

You’d painted before. Hundreds of pieces. Thousands of strokes. But never like this.

She lay there—draped across your studio couch, nude in the golden light, all sharp angles softened by the glow of sunset filtering through the window. A living masterpiece. Every curve a siren’s call.

And still—still—you weren’t looking at her the way a man would. You looked like an artist possessed.

She watched your eyes flick from her hip to her collarbone. Your tongue flicked across your lip as you mixed another color. The veins in your hand flexed as you clenched the brush tighter—focused. Your jaw locked, then twitched.

God, the control in you was intoxicating.

She’d stripped down thinking you’d tease. Maybe flirt. But no.

You were silent.

Worshipping her with the way you looked at her… but not like a lover.

Like an addict.

She shifted, slowly—just enough to make your gaze falter.

It did.

You paused.

Eyes flicked to hers.

“Don’t move,” you said, voice husky, low.

She smirked. “Why not?”

“Because,” you said, eyes dropping back to her form, “this light on your hip—if it slips, I’ll lose it.”

Her brows lifted. “So serious.”

You didn’t reply. Just lifted the brush and went back to it.

She stared at your forearms—taut under the rolled sleeves. At the muscles shifting under your shirt as you painted. At your hands. Those hands.

Veins raised, fingers stained with dried pigment, moving with such control it made her knees press together, even from where she laid.

You didn’t notice.

But then you turned.

And she saw your back.

Shirt pulled tight between your shoulders as you reached for a rag. Muscles dancing as you adjusted your stance. She exhaled hard.

“You’ve been painting me for over an hour,” she said, voice breathy.

You glanced over, surprised by the interruption.

“Is it not working?” you asked.

“No,” she said, sitting up slightly, eyes dark. “It’s working too well.”

You blinked.

She stood, unapologetically nude, walking toward you slowly. “I was trying to be your muse. But I’ve been watching you this whole time, and I realized—”

She touched your chest, eyes raking over your body.

“You’re the art.”

Her hand moved down. Over your abs, slow and reverent. “You don’t even know, do you? The way you look when you’re painting. That jaw. Those back muscles. The veins in your hands—”

She took one in her fingers. Kissed your knuckle.

“—I want them on me.”

You dropped the brush.

And when you kissed her, it wasn’t frantic. It was reverent. Careful. Like she was another canvas and you were building her color by color.

She reached for your shirt, sliding it off slow, dragging her fingers across the grooves in your back like she’d studied them. She kissed each one, from shoulder to spine.

“You gonna finish that painting?” she whispered, breath hot on your skin.

“Later,” you murmured.

Because right now?

You were the brush. She was the canvas. And the art was made in every slow, aching, soul-painted touch. A/N: Fuck you, now I'm horny 4 this man (I meant it as a joke btw)

2 months ago

Doomcoming

Doomcoming

Request: Yes or No

Summary: After Flight 2525 crashes in the Canadian wilderness, (Y/N) Palmer is forced to acquaint himself with his sister's surviving teammates. He unexpectedly finds himself growing closer to their former team captain.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical Yellowjackets warnings, sexual content, mentions of the roofied stew, mentions of attempted murder, the whole doomcoming episode essentially, mentions of cheating and teen pregnancy (Shauna)

divider by saradika-graphics!

~~~

There was something daunting about the wilderness around them, something that made his stomach turn with unease, and had anxiety clutching his heart so tight he feared it'd burst in his chest.

He once thought he liked the woods, thought he enjoyed the beauty of something real and raw and untouched by the hands of mankind who so often sought to destroy what they couldn't control. He thought he saw beauty in the towering trees and the natural cycle binding the forest together.

It was hard to appreciate a cage once you were locked inside it.

Even as the girls giggled and bustled around with sticks and dying leaves to decorate the clearing for their own version of homecoming, he couldn't help but fidget with the sticks and moss he'd been given to convert into whatever he liked. His lips remained twisted downward into a hard frown and his facial muscles were beginning to hurt from how long he'd kept his brows furrowed. He couldn't help it. His concentrated face had never been pretty. His mother used to say it reminded her of his grandfather, a man worn down by grief and time unable to escape his past as a soldier. She never said it kindly.

"Fuck," He hissed quietly in frustration when another twig broke between his fingers, and in one quick swoop, he shoved the pile off his lap and let them clatter onto the forest floor to be forgotten as he stood and listened to them crackle and snap underneath his dirtied sneaker. The hot flash of emotion evaporated as quickly as it'd reared its head, and his shoulders sagged with the exhaustion that followed. 

(Y/N) had never been the type to fall so easily into the jaws of anger, that was a quality he attributed to Travis or Natalie, sometimes even Taissa when things didn't go her way.

Not him, though.

He'd always been the quiet one who preferred solitary over company, the guy with few friends who spent his time listening to music on his walkman with a book in hand and a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips before and after school, the guy forced to accompany his little sister even though she was only a year younger than him and perfectly capable of standing up for herself. 

God, how he wanted a cigarette. It was a nasty habit, one he tried to quit for the sake of Van, but it was familiar and kept him busy whenever his mind wanted to run in everlasting circles.

His last pack, one he'd shoved into his bag at the very last minute before they had to leave to catch the godforsaken plane, had gone up in flames alongside his beloved walkman, a few books, and the unlucky few who hadn't escaped the ruins of the plane.

He managed to catch himself in time before he barreled into one of the girls, spitting out an apology and stepping aside to go around them before a hand firmly grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and held it in a tight fist. Almost instinctively, he jerked his arm away and frowned, the frown only deepening at the sight of Taissa staring at him with a grimace. "What?"

Her brows twitched. "Excuse me? What's with the atti-"

"I don't want to hear it, Taissa." (Y/N) gave a heavy sigh. "What do you want?"

"I.." Taissa trailed off and her typically composed mask crumbled before his very eyes.

Her cracked lips pressed into a tight, thin, almost nervous line and she tucked in her chin to look down at the objects she cradled in her free hand as if they were precious china dolls she couldn't risk damaging. His eyes dropped down to them and his brows lowered at the sight of the handmade masks from cloth and leather stitched together. 

"I know Van doesn't want to join us because she's self-conscious so I.. I made us masks to wear. Do- Do you think she'll like them?"

The tension circulating in his weary body dulled for a moment as he stared down at the masks, lovingly crafted just for his sister's sake and happiness. He and Taissa had never seen eye-to-eye, no matter how hard Van tried through various means; attending parties together, catching lunch at the local diner, dragging him to the after-parties of their games. They begrudgingly co-existed for the most part, forced to be amicable so the girl they both cared for could be content.

Taissa was too headstrong, too stubborn, and too often refused to admit her wrongdoings for his liking.. but his sister loved her and embraced all the flaws he found too irritating to deal with. She took a girl most people walked on eggshells around and loved her as if she were a rose and not a thorn.

He ran a delicate finger over the soft fabric of one of the masks and felt himself soften up at the sweetness of it all, the thought that went into it. His mouth tugged into a strained smile. He wondered if their mother hoped her little girl was being taken care of, or if she even knew what day it was without them watching over her. "Yeah, she'll love 'em." 

"Good." Taissa let out a shaky breath of relief and nodded, offering him back one of those genuine smiles she reserved for those she cared about. "I'll see you at the party?"

His smile dropped. "I guess."

If it hadn't been for his Van's insistence that he pack some nicer clothes (he barely had any, to begin with) for the awards dinner they'd never get to attend, he would've had to suffice with one of his nicer-looking flannels or jumpers; instead, he slipped on the only polo shirt he packed, some jeans, and the cleanest pair of sneakers he could find even though he knew they would be caked in dirt by the end of the evening.

His hands remained shoved in his pockets as he strolled into the clearing and took in what they'd transformed it into. It could never compare to the clean, chilly, and neatly decorated gym where all the formal school events were held, but it radiated with the love and care poured into it. It almost felt.. homey. Comfortable.

In the middle of the clearing was a small campfire surrounded by fallen logs covered in moss that acted as their tables and seating. They'd used sturdy branches embedded in the ground and covered in cloth as torches, the crackling of the flames adding to the serene atmosphere. The jugs of juice Mari had accidentally fragmented over time sat surrounded by cups and the large pot of stew waiting to be eaten.

Most, if not all of the girls wore the dresses they'd packed for the awards dinner, makeup they managed to find or salvage decorating their usually bare faces. Even Misty, who he'd only ever seen wearing mascara, had her cheeks powered pink and eyelids colored purple. They'd styled their hair with crowns made of sticks, autumn leaves, and dying flowers.

With the songs of birds and insects serving as their music, everyone began to settle down around the clearing, cradling wooden bowls of the stew or drinking every last drop of the juice poured into their cups in hopes of getting even the slightest bit drunk.

(Y/N) curled his fingers around his plastic cup and swirled the dark purple juice remaining in it, a bittersweet tart flavor dancing on his tongue but not quite filling him with the typical warmth alcohol did. He stared down at the liquid, practically willing it to become wine so he could forget about everything for just a night.

The death of Laura Lee still hung over them like a thick blanket, but in the short time he'd been around the optimistic blonde, he knew she would've preferred a celebration of life over the somberness of grief that clung heavily to those who knew her best.

His gaze raised to search for Lottie in particular and he found the raven-haired girl sitting in front of the bonfire with a blank stare that only tugged on his heartstrings, even as she offered small smiles to her friends and teammates. Nobody had been able to pull her away from the lake after the explosion for hours, and her quiet sniffling often kept him up throughout the following nights.

"Hey," A voice cooed from behind as slender fingers pressed into his lower back, nails dragging along the fabric of his forest green shirt in a teasing manner. Jackie batted her mascara-coated lashes at him and offered a coy smile when her fingers danced their way to his forearm where she casually looped her arm around his. "Havin' fun?" She asked with a slight tilt of her head, big hazel eyes peering at him with focused attention he wasn't used to getting from the friendly striker. 

"Uh-"

Her smile widened when some of the girls began to sing (or rather scream) the lyrics to Kiss from a Rose at the top of their lungs, their gleeful cackles and snickers cutting through the lyrics. They swayed and spun, twirling their dresses and somehow avoiding spilling their drinks despite the occasional stumble here and there. "We should dance." 

Before he could say anything against it, because the only woman he'd ever danced with had been his grandmother when he was seven, Jackie scooped his cup out of his hand and set it blindly aside before tugging him toward the others. Her arms circled his shoulders and she drew him close, the act foreign to him yet welcoming.

He spent his whole life fussing over Van and ensuring their mother didn't drink herself to death, taking Van to and from soccer parties or parties or secret dates, pleading with Mr. Clark to let his mother keep her job at the diner 'cause his job at the old rundown theatre wouldn't be enough for the bills; he never had enough time for the girls who showed interest, let alone entertained the idea of involving himself with someone like Jacqueline Taylor whose childhood home was practically a mansion in his eyes.

Tentatively, he placed his hands over her hips, and Jackie responded with a soft giggle, her eyes sparkling with the sunlight peeking through the trees. She looked nice, nicer than she had in the past couple of weeks, maybe the last month.

He stopped keeping track of the time that passed a while back when he found it too depressing and consuming. The leaves changing from shades of green to varying shades of orange and red, combined with the temperatures subtly dropping, told him more than enough. The world was still spinning, they were still stranded, and they were probably going to die before winter finished settling in.

"You look handsome," Jackie said softly, her hands carefully adjusting the back of his collar before she tilted her head, brows quirking with expectation he wasn't surprised to see.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and gave an amused huff. "You look pretty."

Her eyes crinkled with delight, not even pretending to act bashful, and her hands moved down, first pressing over his shoulders and then dragging over his arms until they curled around his wrists. Her teeth caught her bottom lip and she batted her lashes at him again, the tips of her ears turning a soft pink.

"You want to, uh.. go for a walk?"

Doomcoming

Ever since Lottie discovered the old, cobweb-covered bones in the attic, (Y/N) ensured to make it a point he was never going up there, especially after the girls decided to 'communicate' with the 'spirit' and the night ended with Lottie splitting her forehead open on the window after a so-called possession. He didn't believe in that sort of crap, but he wasn't about to go messing with it either.

Taissa and Shauna had taken advantage of everyone's hesitance and taken residence in the attic, leaving them with more than enough space and only the hissing wind to disturb them throughout the night. He almost envied them, but he would rather fall asleep listening to Coach Ben's snores than risk confirming that ghosts were real and haunting the only place offering them shelter.

"This place is..." (Y/N) trailed off with a sharp inhale, goosebumps rising along his arms as he soaked in the eery and desolate attic. 

It was dark, the only light pouring in coming from the two windows on either end that were far too dirty to look through, and every inch of it was covered in dust collected from however long it'd remained abandoned before they stumbled upon the cabin.

Taissa and Shauna's belongings, their luggage and blankets, were messily scattered around, the only thing that provided him with a hint of normalcy. But it was quickly chased away with unease as his eyes fell onto the symbol carved into the wooden floorboard, the same one he sometimes saw carved into the trees around the cabin. The weight of anxiety settled on his chest, threatening to cave it in. 

He wished Laure Lee had brought some sage with her.

"Romantic?" Jackie finished for him with a tilt of her head, her tone mixed with hopefulness and amusement. She clasped her hands together in front of her and let out a shallow breath, the ends of her mint dress brushing over the laces of her sneakers with each nervous sway from her hips. 

Lifting his head to look at her, he arched a brow. "Yeah, 'cause nothing screams romantic like a dusty old attic someone died in, Jackie." 

Her shoulders shook with agreeable laughter and she reached up to carefully pull the crown from her head, gently tugging and smoothing back the brown strands that'd grown tangled in the sticks.

Everything about her felt... off, as if she was a husk of the optimistic and enthusiastic girl everyone back home followed like ducklings. She looked distant, her body in the attic but her mind far away, likely back home in her old bedroom thinking about everything she could've been doing instead of starving.

"What's wrong?"

It felt dumb to ask a question like that when everything was wrong. They were stranded in the middle of the wilderness with food they had to forage or hunt for, water they had to boil, clothes they had to share and wash in lake water, and the ghosts of dead classmates haunting the edges of their minds. Laure Lee, the most faithful of them all, had died, leaving a gaping space no one could fill because no one else could replace the kind-hearted, sweet, pious girl who poured her heart into praying for them all. Her god hadn't even granted her the mercy of a peaceful death.

Jackie's jaw shifted with her teeth grinding together, jaw clenching and unclenching. "Shauna was fucking Jeff." She revealed with a bitter, shaky chuckle, her chest stuttering with a deep inhale before she spun around to face away from him. (Y/N) hoped his sharp inhale hadn't been noticeable. "My best friend was having sex with my boyfriend behind my back. My best friend is pregnant with my boyfriend's baby and- and she hasn't had the balls to tell me. All this- this fucking time I've been waiting for her to say something, anything."

The crown slipped from her fingers and her hands raised to bury her face in them, body trembling with muffled sniffles and whimpers. He winced and walked toward her, hesitating for a brief second before he placed his hands over her arms. "Hey," He murmured, gently nudging her toward the pile of blankets on the floor. "C'mon, sit down."

He'd done this dance plenty of times before that it became second nature. He always found himself cradling his sister in his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head and eyes gazing into the distance as she sobbed for this or that reason, or letting his mother bury her face in his chest when the alcohol heightened her emotions instead of dulling them. He was familiar with the dance, so much so it was instinctive for him to comfort.

His arm slid around her shoulder and she crumbled into his side, her whimpers turning into hiccupped cries as she released everything she held in her chest. He dragged his thumb and forth over her arm comfortingly and pressed his cheek against the top of her head, her frizzy hair tickling his skin and smelling subtly of the flowers she'd used for her crown. 

"God, this is so- ugh." She raised her head and wiped at her tear-stained cheeks in frustration, rubbing away the blush and slightly smearing her mascara when she swiped her fingers over her eyes. Her ears turned pink, a color that crept down her cheeks and neck. "This is so embarrassing. I-I didn't bring you up here to- to cry in your arms like a baby. I-" She shook her head.

"You needed a good cry, Jackie. It's normal." (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders and squeezed her arm reassuringly, drawing her teary-eyed gaze toward him. Her features softened and she pressed her lips together until they ceased quivering with emotion. "Honestly, I'd be worried if you weren't upset." He breathily chuckled, leaning back into the blankets and staring up at the cobwebs clinging to the slanted ceiling. 

Jackie reached behind her to tug her hair free from the hairstyle she'd pulled it back into before mimicking his actions, her hair sprawling out around her in a short halo. "I.. I know it looks like I'm only interested in you because my only choices are you and Travis but I always thought you were cool."

"Cool?" He echoed with a snort and lolled his head to look at her. "Poor guys who drive beaten-up cars and always smell like popcorn are ​​​​​​your definition of cool?"

"Oh, shut up. At least it's better than dumb football players who cheat on you with your best friends." Jackie laughed and threw a gentle punch at his arm, her voice hoarse from the crying but slowly clearing up. She gave a wistful sigh and rubbed her fingertip over the smeared mascara, her eyes tracing the lines in the ceiling. The corners of her brows dipped, forming creases in her skin.

"I used to pretend I didn't know if I loved Jeff, when the truth is, I didn't even like him that much. I used to think losing your virginity was supposed to be special, and then Shauna went and lost hers to my boyfriend. It- It doesn't matter, anymore. It's all.. bullshit. Love is bullshit."

"I thought love was bullshit too once." (Y/N) told her quietly, eyes flickering past her to gaze at Taissa's things. "My dad left us when we were young. He... up and left one day and never looked back, never bothered calling or sending a letter. He just walked out and disappeared as if we didn't matter, as if my mom hadn't bent over backward trying to be a good wife. I thought that.. if it was that easy to leave your own family behind like they're nothing, then love wasn't real.. that it didn't matter."

"What changed?"

The ghost of a smile passed over his face. "I watched Van fall in love. I listened to her talk about Taissa like she- she hung the fucking stars in the sky and I watched her face light up like a kid on Christmas whenever Taissa came around. I watched them mold themselves to fit each other because they care so much that they don't want to risk doing something wrong. If Van can find that much love in Tai, I think you've got a chance, too. You matter to a lot of people, Jackie. There's still a chance we get rescued.. there's still a chance you get your happily ever after."

After a beat of silence, Jackie moved, propping herself up on one elbow and peering down at him with an unreadable look. She reached out toward him, her fingers barely grazing over his neck before she pressed her palm against his skin and leaned down to give him a close-lipped kiss, and then another.

"Maybe you can be my happily ever after." She spoke quietly, voice barely about a whisper, and kissed him again, this time an open-mouth one that smeared her bubblegum pink lipstick over his lips.

(Y/N) always considered himself too busy for girlfriends. He'd tried once in freshman year but he never managed to keep up with the dates and hanging out in between work, school, homework, and taking care of his family.

The relationship only lasted a month but he'd been able to check out the 'important' firsts everyone else fussed over during high school just to avoid the teasing from the other boys. But, be it from the time since or the chaotic situation they found themselves in, kissing Jackie felt different. 

It was a surge of emotions muddling together yet immediately overridden by an overwhelming desire to be touched, to simply be in someone's embrace and escape the harsh reality they'd been forced into. It was easy to get lost in surviving and forget about the joys of living.

He kissed her back and her body relaxed, tension he hadn't noticed fading from her muscles. Her fingers dug into his neck and pulled as she tilted herself backward to resume laying on her back, her other hand crinkling her dress with tugs until it slipped down her thighs and freed her legs. He moved over her and settled between her parted legs, feeling her hand move from his neck to clutch his arm, half her fingers pressing into the sleeve and the other half pressing into his skin. 

Almost instinctively, his hips rolled and grinded against her, pulling a shaky gasp from Jackie. She tilted her head back, her grip tightening with each grind against her most sensitive area, and her chest beginning to heave with heavy inhales of air as her legs fell further apart.

He pressed kisses to her jawline and down to her throat, the cool chain of her gold necklace pressing into his lips and leaving small imprints behind. She pushed her upper half into him when he pressed his lips against the center of her chest just above the heart charm and momentarily released him to unclasp her bra peeking out from underneath the dress. 

She tossed it aside as if she hardly cared to find it again, and perhaps she'd leave it just to irk Shauna when it'd be undoubtedly found. She pulled on the straps of her dress and then tugged firmly at it to reveal her breasts, hazel eyes darting up to study his features, hoping to find some sort of reaction that'd boost her ego, only for her eyes to flutter shut when he palmed at her. She had fading tan lines he traced with his mouth, the skin typically unexposed to the sun a paler color. 

"I-" Jackie cut herself off with a breathy sigh, back arching and naturally pushing her newly exposed chest into his face when his thumb flickered over a hardened nub. "I-I want to." She exhaled, back dropping back onto the blanket beneath them and eyelids parting again, half-lidded as if she were dazed. 

"We don't have to." He murmured, face burying into her neck briefly, seeking out warmth from another. He missed being held. 

"I want to." She repeated with a self-assured nod, the light of the setting sun peeking through the trees and pouring in through the window, lighting up the attic in a gentler light. It seemed less hostile than before. "I really do."

Nodding, he leaned back onto his knees and pulled the polo shirt off by its collar as Jackie fumbled with the button of his jeans. When his hands were free, she dropped hers and lifted her hips, tugging off her underwear and dropping it aside. He pushed his pants and underwear down enough to expose himself, a curse leaving his lips when she wrapped her fingers around him and gave a few experimental pumps. 

"Jax," He exhaled. "What if-"

"I don't care." Jackie cupped the back of his neck and pulled him downward to kiss him again, hot and needy and more teeth than tongue. "I just want you."

(Y/N) complied, teeth grazing her bottom lip as he braced himself on one arm and reached down, hearing her soft gasp as he dragged the tip along her slick folds. She swallowed thickly and placed her hands over his shoulders, her knees knocking gently against his hips. When he kissed the side of her neck, he could feel the rapid pulse of her heartbeat. 

Jackie gasped loudly when he pushed inside and then winced, her nails digging into his shoulder blades hard enough to leave imprints and features scrunching up. He gave her a moment to breathe, to adjust to the new feeling, waiting until her nails relented to push further. Soft murmurs of comfort flowed into her ear, his free hand moving up to rest over her hip and squeeze comfortingly. He knew it hurt for some during their first time, sometimes it hurt always for others. 

He took his time, pushing and waiting for her to grow used to it, swallowing groans and whimpers when she unknowingly clenched around him from the sensations. He gave one last nudge to reach the base and she pulled him into another kiss, heavily panting against his mouth and apologetically rubbing her fingertips over the countless half-moon marks she left on his skin. 

"Okay," She swallowed, blinking away the glistening in her eyes and offering a giddy smile. "I'm okay."

Slowly, he moved, trying to focus on her features as they morphed from furrowed brows trying to grow used to the feeling to ones raised with pleasure. (Y/N) shifted his weight onto his knees and propped himself slightly on them, the hand on her hip growing firm to stabilize her before he began moving quicker. The sound of skin slapping on skin mixed with the grunts and heaves and moans that slowly grew in noise and the soft squelch from where their bodies were connected. 

Jackie pulled him as close as humanely possible, her palms dragging over his back, tracing the muscles and healed scar he'd obtained during the crash. One of her hands moved downward, passing over his hip and grasping the back of his thigh, almost willing him to go deeper, to somehow melt into each other and become one. Her lips remained parted, babbled words ranging from pleas to curses interrupting the choked breaths and whiny moans. 

The heel of her sneaker dragged along his clothed calf and he breathed comforting words into her flushed cheeks, each praise drawing a whimper from the back of her throat. He kissed away the tears of pleasure that dripped from the corner of her eyes, occasionally pressing into her temple when his mind escaped him, growing foggy and needy until he forced himself to focus again. Taking someone's virginity was as big as losing it, at least in his opinion. They were having enough bad experiences as is.

"Shit!" Jackie practically squealed in his ear, her back arching off the blankets again and head tilting back. "(Y/N)-"

(Y/N) moved fully back onto his knees and grasped Jackie's hips with both hands, listening to the thud of her sneakers planting themselves on the floorboards to hold up her weight as her hands flew down to hold onto his wrists. The new position seemed to hit exactly the right spot because a few seconds later, Jackie tensed up and then cried out, her body convulsing and feet stomping onto the floor wildly. He chased after his own high, the slowly formed knot in his gut threatening to burst at any moment. 

Jackie fumbled, quivering thighs struggling to maintain her weight until he had half a mind to slip one hand under her lower back and help her up. She flung her arms around his shoulder and he moved his hold onto her thighs, helping her clumsily bounce until he suddenly released, toppling them both over onto the blankets where they went limp in a tangled mess of limbs. 

"Jesus," Jackie laughed, brushing away the strands sticking to the sweat along her hairline and giving a soft whine when he dragged himself out of her and rolled over. She reached downward to cup herself, sweaty thighs pressing together, and he turned his head away from the sight as he spurted the last of his release on his lower abdomen. "You don't think one of the girls has plan b, right?"

"If you'd said something beforehand I could've swiped one of Travis's condoms. I don't think he's even using them with Natalie." 

Jackie's head whirled around to look at him, squinting through the growing darkness in disbelief. "Travis packed condoms?"

"I guess."

(Y/N) huffed out a laugh, and then couldn't stop himself from laughing some more when Jackie began giggling at the absurdity of Travis Martinez, who hardly ever even spoke to girls at school because he was always too busy sulking, packing condoms for a trip to Seattle with his father and little brother.

Their laughter died down into coughs and snickers, slowly ceasing when they gazed at each other. Jackie stared at him with crinkled eyes and slipped her hand out from between her thighs, rubbing the mixture of fluids on her dress. 

"We should do this more often." She said, but all (Y/N) could focus on was the distant sound of guttural screaming and... howling? 

He moved immediately, nerves lighting ablaze out of fear and panic for his sister, and got dressed again, almost stumbling over his legs as he struggled with the zipper. Jackie blinked at him, hurt flashing over her face before she flinched at a closer scream and scrambled to pull her dress straps over her shoulders. 

"What the fuck is that?" 

They hurried down the ladder and into the old pantry, the light from the lit fireplace shining over the group of girls in the living room attempting to corner a frantic, wide-eyed shirtless Travis. 

"What the hell are you doing?" (Y/N) hissed, bewildered at the sight of their ragged breathing and dirtied dresses.

The girls turned their heads to look at him, their eyes wide and wild, mouths twisted up into grins or snarls. Some of them swayed as if intoxicated, and even Travis looked out of his mind as he stared at empty air and muttered quietly to himself. He stared questionably at Van but she simply turned on her heel and left with Taissa.

Lottie walked toward them, her hand flying out to grab the skirt of Jackie's dress and turning it around to peer at the patch of blood staining it. She huffed out a mocking laugh and Jackie's cheeks flared red. "Stay out of it." She sneered and shoved the brunette back, her body colliding with (Y/N)'s and forcing them back into the pantry. 

"Lottie-" 

The door rattled shut with a slam, and the lock clicking followed after. There was manic giggling and the thumping of heavy footsteps he assumed belonged to Travis, and then the shrill shrieks and shouts about 'the stag' getting away before a chorus of footsteps seemingly followed after the boy. (Y/N) could only stare at the door in disbelief.

"The hell was that?"

Jackie slammed her palms into the door, pounding against it and shouting for help until her voice grew scratchy. Her body was still struggling to retain its energy and she stepped back, panicked bursts of breaths escaping her.

Getting the wild, frantic, borderline hungry look in their eyes out of his head was hard. They flashed in his mind each time he blinked, his throat seizing with confusion and worry for Van and Travis, for the girls who looked out of their minds. For Coach Ben who was easy prey with only one working leg.

"Move." He whispered, letting Jackie step aside before he rammed his shoulder into the door repeatedly, each hit making his arm sore until it began to ache.

The door groaned and creaked with each hit, rattling violently and beginning to splinter from the force until it was forced open, its rotting age betraying it. They stumbled out of the room and (Y/N) immediately took note of the missing knife, the one used for carving meat whenever Natalie and Travis managed to hunt something good enough to eat. 

As if on cue, Natalie appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide and glistening with tears. Her outfit was disheveled and dirty, and he could only begin to imagine what she'd been doing between the time they left and then. Natalie swallowed and blinked hard, looking as if she were trying to focus her vision but something was stopping her.

"Misty-" She staggered and braced herself on the door frame. "Misty put shrooms in the stew."

Jackie groaned. "Oh, my god. Of course, she did."

"Where's Travis?" Natalie's head spun as she searched the cabin. "I-I need to talk to Travis. Where's Travis?"

Doomcoming

(Y/N) stared at the crackling fire, watched the flames lick up the stone walls and embers disappear into the chimney to be blown up into the wind with the smoke.

Maybe it would've been better if they'd all gone up in flames, he thought. It would've been better than dealing with a bunch of idiots who were too prideful to admit any wrongdoing, even if it meant ignoring the fact they would've cut Travis's throat open if Natalie hadn't intervened in time. And now they were nowhere to be found. They were probably better of that way.

Part of him wanted to shove Misty into the fireplace so she'd stop staring at him with an accusatory glint for not saying thanks to a dead bear, to Lottie for taking the creature out of its obvious misery, to 'ancient gods' and the damn dirt. It was laughable, and yet his sister encouraged it.

Misty drugged everyone who ate the damn stew, to begin with. They should've all been blaming her and her stupid crush on a man half her age who only looked at her with discomfort and pity.

Instead, half the girls chose to gang up on Jackie after Misty loudly pointed out that neither of them had said thanks. He'd mostly tuned out the argument between Jackie and Shauna as they sneered and took jabs at each other, heated revelations and insults spewing out of their mouths in hopes of twisting the knife and plunging it deeper into each other until Jackie pointed at the door. 

"Get out." She spat, intending to sound authoritative but her voice trembled with emotion, with hurt and betrayal. Shauna remained still, her chest rising and falling in deep breaths and nostrils flaring. Jackie shoved her shoulder. "Go on, get out!" 

"No."

"I can't be around you, I-I can't even fucking look at you right now."

Shauna swallowed. "Well, that sounds like your problem. So maybe you should leave."

Jackie scoffed and turned her head to look at the others, searching their faces until her head tilted toward him. She looked at him pleadingly, her hazel hues glittering with unshed tears, from the argument or lack of support, he couldn't be sure anymore, but he heaved a sigh and stood up nonetheless. 

"Nobody's going anywhere." 

"What, are you her little attack do-"

"Shut the fuck up, Mari." His head snapped toward the long-haired girl and she flinched, once smug eyes widening. His jaw ticked. "It's no fucking wonder Danny dumped you for his cousin, you don't know when to keep your mouth shut."

Predictably, she flushed a bright red and ducked her head, strands of her dark hair falling over her face to hide the shame and humiliation that sparked across her face. Only Akilah reached out to place a comforting hand over her shoulder, but even she remained quiet. It was no secret, hell, most of the girls had laughed about it at some point. They'd be hypocrites to stand up for her, and they knew it.

"Nobody's going anywhere." He repeated, enunciating each word slowly and clearly, and locked eyes with each of them to get his point across.

Lottie looked the most relaxed, her face serene and blank, like that of a mother waiting for her children to finish a pointless argument. It was unnerving, as if a switch had flickered inside her and changed her into something completely different from the quiet girl she was once.

"Winter's almost here, if not already, and the days are getting colder. We don't know how to treat hypothermia or frostbite or anything like that, so nobody is going to risk it. I don't care if you want to dance around fire and thank the trees for your food. But we're not kids anymore, not here at least. So stop bitchin' like we're in the hallways at school and start acting like you give a shit about surviving for a little longer." 

1 month ago

I’ve got you Batfam x Batsis

request for @aestheticllylosers my power just went out the other day at my house so i was wondering if i could have batfamily, plus maybe Selina Kyle trying to entertain a scared little bat baby (age three) through a blackout and storm. very fluffly….  _____________

The whole family was gathered in the living room preparing ways to entertain themselves in an attempt to drown out the storm, sadly living with tech geniuses and a billionaire father does not help keep the power on, in fact you’ve all been sitting in the dark for about an hour whilst Alfred went around lighting candles, that being said their attempts of having fun during a thunderstorm only did the bare minimum when it came to distracting you and due to the loud crashes outside you had your head buried in your dad’s chest for half of it anyways so you couldn’t even pay attention to it. 

Your family were at a loss, they didn’t know how to make this situation any more comfortable for you, even your mother Selina attempted to take you upstairs and distract you with your toys but you ran down the stairs screaming as soon as you saw a flash of lightning outside your window. Bruce was thinking about calling Diana to see if she could tell you an old story about the Gods because you always enjoyed those but given the situation the cell towers were down so he had no way of getting through to her, but he figured he could help you all on his own, almost on his own, your brothers were also in panic mode trying to find ways to calm their little sister down. 

Dick attempted books, cooking and even some old board games he found in his room but nothing seemed to keep your attention for too long before you were back whimpering in your dad’s arms. Tim thought hide and seek was a good idea but it was ruled out because he joked about the manor ghosts finding you first and you started bawling your eyes out, Damian attempted to fight the lightning as a way to make you laugh but he slipped in the mud outside and that made you think that the lightning was attacking people so that took a whole 2 hour conversation from your dad to try to explain to you that lightning can’t push people over and Damian is just clumsy, he scoffed at that but a pointed look from his father got him to play along with the story. Jason, well he tried but ultimately gave up and tagged Alfred in, it’s not that he didn’t want you to feel safe it’s just he had one idea since the fighting lightning joke was taken by the demon spawn as he likes to call him, he’s also came to the conclusion that Damian can read his mind when in actuality he just found the piece of paper that Jason used to write his two ideas down with.

____________

“what are we gonna do?” Dick asked looking around the kitchen at all the baffled faces of his family, Selina was laying with you in the other room trying to put you down for a nap but from the sound of your little cries it wasn’t working.

“well we could-” “no” Jason said cutting Damian off “tt you didn’t even let me say it Todd” “we already know it’s sh*t stop wasting time” “Jason” Bruce said in a warning tone, “there’s a generator in the cave if we go down there and get it working we can put a movie on for y/n to help her” Bruce said and looked up to everyone staring at him in disbelief,”wait so your telling me we could have had power this WHOLE TIME” Tim yelled , Bruce sighed, “I just wanted to spend time with you all, your sister has been asking for you and with your jobs you hardly get to see her, I just thought that if i forced us all together with no technology to distract you that you’d end up enjoying it a bit” when he finished talking Alfred smiled to himself, when the storm alert first hit the news his master told him to turn the generator off and tell everyone to come home, he knew Bruce missed them but would never admit it out loud so he just went along with it, the truth is he needed this time with his family just as much as the rest of them and secretly didn’t want the generator on but if it helped miss y/n he was open to trying. “wow, I didn’t think i’d ever hear you admit to wanting us here out loud, like i’ve heard you say it in so many dreams but real life? i’m shocked” Jason said jokingly “ you know that’s all you needed to say right? keep it off” Dick said smiling “but-” Tim tried to object but got a warning nudge from Damian who would never admit it but this has been one of the best days of his life.

____________

Once they got back into the living room Selina looked up at Alfred and the two smiled knowingly at each other, and you slowly lifted your head up to look at your family walking back in “the storms calmed down sweetie do you want to try play a game again?” your mother asked you and you tilted your head to look up at her and then to your dad again “okway” you said sniffling as you crawled off your mom’s lap and down to the floor with your brothers.

Bruce sat with Selina and put his arm around her pulling her close to him and watched his kids actually get along to play a game of monopoly, and slyly wished for more storms in the future.

____________

i’m in a batfam mood so send in requests! 

1 month ago

JACKIE TAYLOR.ᐟ

 JACKIE TAYLOR.ᐟ
 JACKIE TAYLOR.ᐟ
 JACKIE TAYLOR.ᐟ

➤ jackie taylor x loser!fem!reader hcs

⤷ cw: no crash au, bullying, nothing romantic happens yet

✦ part two (coming soon...)

──────────────────────

── .✦ jackie who always had her eye on you. she was worried about you since she had never seen you with any friends, and the only people who approached you only did so to shove you against the lockers. the need to protect others came natural to her, though she chose to wait a bit with you. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who regretted her decision the moment she heard how jeff and his friends talked about you. she was used to the boys talking horrible about almost everyone at school, yet it didn't mean she liked their immature behavior. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who ignored her boyfriend's "warnings" about you and tried talking to you one day in class. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who couldn't understand why she felt so nervous to talk to you. what if you thought she was messing with you? she tried not to overthink about it too much—it was only making her even more nervous and it was very likely for you to notice her weird behavior—. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who quietly sat down next to you in spanish class and stared at you for fifteen minutes, her eyes not once leaving the pen you were holding onto and using to draw on your left hand, before eventually speaking up, . ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who thought asking you about the upcoming project was going to be a great way of getting to know you. truth be told, she had watched way too many rom-coms where the popular one asks the nerdy one to study and they end making out instead. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie whose eyes widened the moment she questioned herself on why she thought about those movies. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who managed to talk to you without making her stutter noticeable, though having a hard time maintaining eye contact. the sentence "i was wondering if you could help me out with the project. maybe we could even do it together?" had never made the girl shake in her seat until that moment. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who felt a pang in her chest the moment you asked her if she was joking, her answer—"no! of course not"—immediately leaving her lips without any sort of hesitation. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who swore the class was way too short than it usually was. did she seriously spent that long gaining the courage to talk to you? ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who didn't help with your skepticism as she said a quick goodbye before grabbing her stuff and rapidly walking out of the classroom. what you didn't know was how she immediately cursed herself under her breath for acting so stupid in front of you. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who was dying to see you again and show you a more normal behavior, and whose wants were accomplished—yet not in the way she expected—. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who didn't hesitate in defending you the moment she saw the way a guy pinned you against the locker and snatched your portapros off your head, anger bubbling inside of her as she watched the asshole snap your headphones in half. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"hey! what is wrong with you?" she immediately asked, rushing over to where you were and pushing the guy away from you. "you're going to buy her new ones, got it?" she added, her tone firm and leaving no room for doubt.

"whatever, jackie." the guy simply said, rolling his eyes and walking away from the scene—clearly not taking the girl's words seriously—.

── .✦ jackie who didn't want to leave you alone for the rest of the day. she needed to make sure you were okay, even if that meant following you around like a lost puppy. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who understood why you were quieter than usual. not only were you not used to having her presence around but you were also really mad about what just happened. jackie knew how much you used your headphones and how much you enjoyed music. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who knew she had to face a very confused jeff after school. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"so... i heard something went down earlier. what exactly happened?" he asked her, shifting on his bed and getting closer to jackie to rest his head on her stomach. "and what were you thinking?" he quickly continued, clearly feeling worried about his girlfriend.

"she's a nice girl. what do you all have against her?" she snapped, looking down at the boy with a heartbroken gaze.

── .✦ jackie who couldn't wrap her mind around jeff's "reasons"; they didn't even make any sense! she tried to make him see how childish he was acting yet he wouldn't listen, which ended up in the couple having an argument. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who started getting closer to you. whether it was small talking in the hallways or sitting down with you at lunch, she loved spending time with you. you were such a kind soul and she truly wanted to get to know you more. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who didn't care how many times she had to swear she wasn't pulling a prank on you, she'd do whatever was necessary to make you feel comfortable around her. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who immediately felt oh so happy the moment you looked out for her to show her the new spider-man 2099 comic you got. she didn't know shit about spider-man, especially not that one, but seeing how excited you were to talk about it was the only thing that mattered to her. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who wasn't expecting the yellowjackets to bring up her new friendship with you. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

"how's it going with your uh... little friend?" tai asked jackie, clearly trying her best to hold back a smirk—though her tone of voice said it all. "great!" she quickly replied, looking at her teammates with a bright smile plastered on her face.

"isn't she the reason why you fought with jeff?" shauna asked, not realizing how easily her words could get misunderstood. van couldn't help but let out a laugh; the rest of the girls looking at each other—confused. "uh yeah. i just don't get why he has to be such a dick sometimes." the locker room went silent again. the girls had seen you around and most of them started greeting you after seeing how already close you were to jackie.

"i mean, shit, the two of you are really close." nat intervened, scratching the back of her head before jolting as lottie smacked her shoulder. "we're happy you two are friends. she seems—... interesting." lottie spoke up, a tight smile forming on her lips.

── .✦ jackie who didn't understand why her friends were acting so weird about you; she couldn't stop thinking about what nat said. the two of you had indeed gotten really close to each other, not even discussing about the spanish project anymore, but what was wrong with that? she knew there was something else her team was referring to, and a small part of her knew what it was. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who couldn't stop thinking about you. you were her friend, of course it was normal for certain stuff to remind her of you. whether it was something as obvious as a comic book or as simple as a dinosaur plushie, you suddenly invaded her mind. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who didn't think twice when she saw the new audio techina model; the new headphones worth $800. she knew you were going to lose your mind and she couldn't wait to see you again. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

── .✦ jackie who started realizing how giddy she felt when she thought about you and your cute mannerisms. ⊹ ࣪ ˖

1 year ago
AEONS X READER AND YOU'RE THEIR FAV-????

AEONS X READER AND YOU'RE THEIR FAV-????

REVERSE CREATOR AU???

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