Domestic Travlottienat X Reader Thoughts | 🫀🦌🚬

Perv Shauna this, Perv Lottie that. Where is my depraved girl twink representation?

Jackie runs inside her bedroom, slamming the door shut and backing herself against it. She was breathing hard, had she run home? She really didn’t even process getting back to her house, she had tunnel vision. When Jackie finally caught her breath, she slid down the floor to a sitting position, took off her backpack and pulled a sweatshirt that’s all too familiar to her, out of her bag. She clutched the hoodie in both hands, bringing the soft material up to her face, and inhaling your scent.

The truth is, you didn’t really know she had your sweatshirt. Jackie had sat behind you in 10th period History for over half the year now, she was *just* starting to question her sexuality at the beginning of the year, and then along came you. She was constantly smelling your cologne, watching your back and arm muscles flex through your t-shirts, getting an occasional hand graze as you pass the worksheets to her, and Jackie just wasn’t supposed to fall in love? She latched onto you, to an obsessive degree. Desperately trying to refrain from threading her fingers through your hair, drooling as you groan in pleasure when you stretch your back, hearing you speak to friends in the class and pretending all that fondness in your tone was directed at her.

So that day, when she noticed you had accidentally left your favorite sweatshirt behind in class, on the back of your chair right in front of Jackie, she realized she had two options. One, to run the sweatshirt to you before you went to practice, maybe get a chance to have a nice but brief chat, where you’d thank her for making sure your favorite sweatshirt made it back to you. Or option two, take the sweatshirt and run.

And that’s just what she did, she acted on impulse, and now she has something of yours. She has something of yours that’s concrete, something that will make her fantasies more realistic. Because imagining you on top of her, saying and doing all of those sinful things she thinks about, late, late at night, feels all the more genuine if she can smell you and feel your sweatshirt. She could clutch at it, while she touched herself and pretend it was your hands that knew her so well. The smell of your cologne on the hoodie spurred her on to slip a hand into her pants, and begin to play with herself. Her theft had left her turned on since the moment she left the classroom, stuffing your clothing into her bag, all the while thinking of all that she could do with it. She should be ashamed of how wet she was, if she were in the right of mind she probably would be, but she was being driven by the extreme want you produce in her. She muses to herself that you’d probably love the sound of your name on her lips, she tests it out, calling your name quietly to the empty room, hoping she could manifest you n the middle of her room, feeling just as depraved as she was. Jackie touched herself with a torturously slow pace, the way she imagined it, you always took your time with her, no matter how much she pleaded with you. The way you’d pull every “please” from her until she was crying in desperation. Her eyes are rolling back in pleasure as she brings your sweatshirt up to her face and drowns in the ghost of you that haunts the piece of fabric. She’s not even halfway through her favorite fantasy of you before she’s closing her eyes, and finishing with a pathetic moan that’s muffled by the hoodie. Once Jackie is brought back to planet earth, there is only one thing she’s absolutely certain of; You are never seeing this sweatshirt again.

got way too busy to actually answer this but wowwwwwww. im fucking speechless bro honestly. once again i dont think you need to put perv in front of jackie 🤔. i think it's just implied

something about jackie developing a pavlovian response to your cologne after getting off with your sweatshirt all the time. she's sitting behind you in class and is so turned on just from the smell of you. jackie teasing herself silly every night imagining you doing it for her?? she always imagines you so slow and even regardless of how much she begs for it, as if you don't care how much she enjoys it. something about you just touching her however you want really gets her going. jackie getting frustrated with how quickly she's finishing as she breathes in your hoodie so she keeps going with that same slow pace, writhing against her own hand as it gets to be too much. but she just imagines the way you'd keep going even as she begged you to stop. she's so careful not to get her tears on the hoodie, not wanting it to stop smelling like you.

thinking about working on a group project with jackie and she's practically shaking as you sit on her bed talking about the blank check or some shit. "so what do you think?" and jackies just frantically nodding along because she's long gone. finding your hoodie underneath her pillow while she's ran off to the bathroom...

god that was so good broooooooo. holy shit

Masterlist

Order Up!

Commissions are: OPEN

🛎️ if you'd like to make a request, please ask here!

all pairings and situations are accepted, though i reserve the right to deny a request if a) i can't do it justice or, b) it doesn't align with what i'm comfortable writing.

pairings so far include: Wally Clark x fem!reader | Wally Clark x male!reader | Simon Elroy x fem!reader | Wally Clark x Dawn Burton |

overview: a collection of School Spirits requests/prompts that vary in subject and rating. please refer to in-story summaries for more information. overarching trope and rating are indicated beside each link.

below is the complete list of requests under Order Up!. you can also find all related content HERE as well as reformatted chapters on AO3.

~ 💚👻

📍WALLY CLARK:

Fifty Seven - fluff - PG | It's Just Biology, Wally - Wally Clark x Dawn - smut lite - M | Marshmallow Miles - smut lite/fluff - M | Best Friends Club - fluff/smut - M | Boy Noise - sub!Wally Clark - smut - E | Simp. - sub!Wally Clark - smut - E | Wally Clark Headcanons - 3 - fluff - G | Anxiety - sub!Wally Clark - smut - M | Wreck It Like A Rumor - angst/smut - M | Anxiety 2 - sub!Wally Clark - fluff/smut lite - M | Punctuation. - PG | Hot For You - smut - E | Hurt You, Heal You - hurt/comfort lite - G | Crush - smut/fluff - M | Silly Boy - male!reader - smut - M | Control Freak - sub!Wally Clark - smut - M | Intimacy with Strangers - smut - M | Transcendental - fluff - PG |

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📍SIMON ELROY:

Boyfriend Simon Elroy (NSFW) - smut - M |

Hi!! It's me again lol 💕

As much as I love reading neglected reader stories, I'd also love to read about beloved reader stories! Gimme stories where reader is the unspoken favorite of the family, scenarios like:

"I've got a ballet recital later but the tickets are only for 2 family members..."

Cue to the batfam forming teams and having debates on who deserves the tickets more, slowly descending to madness and a possible brawl where the winning pair gets the tickets.

scenario 2:

Reader wakes up in the middle of the night due to a nightmare

The batfam in the batcave seeing reader through the cameras with her teary eyes and tiny hand clutching to a blanket, thinking of which batfam member's room to go to for comfort. The batfam is shoving each other, running to be the first to comfort reader.

'She's sleeping in my room tonight!' they all think

scenario 3:

Reader is highly focused in making an arts and crafts project for school, Dick, curious about what she's doing asks what the theme is,

"My teacher told us to make our hero out of recycled materials!"

The batfam freezes and glares at each other.

'I'm their hero!' they silently tell each other

They then proceed to try to one up each other in winning reader's favor. After an exhausting week of competing with each other, they finally get to see the fruits of their labor in reader's school, scanning through the multiple projects they finally see their name written in crooked crayon... it's the Flash, the Flash is Reader's hero.

"Why??" Tim asks "Your big bro is a genius and the one who helped you with your math homework the past week"

"Cuz he-" Reader then gets distracted by their friend and runs off to play with them.

"Wait! wait! I need to know!" Tim yells in agony, too bad Reader is already playing house with their friends, already forgetting what they were talking about with Tim.

Guess we'll never know

Scenario 4:

Reader's a bit more grown, in middle school.

Reader got in trouble. Why? She defended someone against a bully and then SHE got in trouble for retaliating. She's sniffling outside the principal's office with a bruise and a pouty face, [choose which batfam member goes] sees Reader in her state and asks why she did it.

"They were hurting someone who was smaller than them and couldn't defend themselves...I wanted to be a hero like you" She says with the biggest tear-filled puppy dog eyes.

[Bat member sees red and either: goes off on the principle oooooor...calmly shows their rage with ice-cold revenge]

Imagine if it was Jason lol hahaha

I'd write more but I can't think of any at the moment, I'll probs send more when I think of some! 💕 I'd love to see your take on this 😊

Scenario 1: The Recital War – Toddler Edition

Reader (3 y/o): I only gots two tickets! 🩰✨

Dick: Okay, sweetpea. Who do you wanna pick?

Reader: Hmm…

Damian: kneeling dramatically Beloved sister, consider this: I made thee a sword out of popsicle sticks. We are bonded in blood.

Jason: She watched Encanto with me five times in one night. She called me “Uncle Bruno.”

Steph: I let her paint my nails. They were green, pink, and glue. I still have glitter in my ears.

Tim: She fell asleep on me while I was reading her bedtime stories. I’m her favorite.

Cass: Holds up a finger painting with their names on it She made this for me.

Bruce: stoically handing out opera binoculars and a bouquet of baby roses I support the arts.

Reader: I give da tickets to… MR. FLUFFINGTON 🧸 and AL-FED!! 🥰

Batfam: Screaming, crying, throwing Batarangs

Scenario 2: Nightmare Emergency

Camera Feed:

Reader, tiny and precious, waddling around with her blankie, sniffling and looking like a kicked puppy.

Jason: SHE’S CRYING MOVE

Dick: LET ME THROUGH I DO THE VOICES IN HER STORYBOOKS

Steph: NO I CUDDLED HER FOR FOUR HOURS LAST NIGHT, IT’S MY TURN

Tim: I already pre-heated the microwave bottle, SUCKERS

Damian: Stand aside. I have her dragon plushie. I am the chosen one.

Cass: Has already teleported beside Reader with cookies and fuzzy socks

Bruce (in the background): …Why do we not have a toddler emergency protocol??

Scenario 3: The Hero Assignment (but make it emotional trauma)

Dick: Whatcha makin’, peanut? 🥹

Toddler!Reader (glue in her eyelashes): My hero! Outta trash and sparkles!!

Jason: She’s totally gonna pick me. I gave her a whole leather jacket for dress-up day.

Steph: I let her put stickers on my face for two hours. I earned that title.

Tim: I literally stayed up all night helping her build that paper rocket.

Damian: She called me her “knighty wighty.” I don’t care what anyone says. I win.

Cass: already taping googly eyes onto a cardboard batmask she made together with Reader

Bruce (calm, composed): She is my daughter.

At School:

Teacher: And who is your hero, sweetheart?

Toddler!Reader (grinning, revealing one missing tooth): SUPAMAN!!!! 🦸‍♂️✨💙❤️

Whole Batfam (simultaneously): WHAT.

Jason: drops juicebox in slow motion …She picked that flying corn-fed himbo?

Tim: I— turns off all his tech devices out of heartbreak

Dick: Babe… we watched The Lego Batman Movie together. What did it mean to you??

Steph: I was glitter Batman for Halloween for her.

Damian: tearing up artwork This is a betrayal worse than Julius Caesar’s.

Cass: staring blankly at a Superman balloon floating by …it’s fine.

Bruce: …I need to call Clark. picks up phone with gritted teeth Clark. She said you're her hero.

Clark (from the other end, smug): Aww, she said that? That's so sweet! Tell her Uncle Supes loves her too!

Batfam: SCREAMING INTERNALLY

Later at home:

Jason: Hey… why is Superman your hero, sweetpea?

Toddler!Reader (mid-coloring): Cuz… he picked up my juice box when it falled 😌

Jason: clutching chest I COULD’VE DONE THAT—LET ME REDO MY AUDITION PLEASE—

Scenario 4: Trouble at School

Reader: sitting in the hall with a pout, tear in her eye and a Dora bandage on her cheek

Jason: What happened, baby bat?

Reader: I punched da big kid. He was mean to a widdle one… I wanted to be a hero… like you…

Jason: 🧍‍♂️🔫

Principal: Hello, Mr. Todd, we need to discuss—

Jason: I already paid for her lunch, bought the school, and fired the big kid’s dad. Wanna keep talking?

Reader (from his hip): I gots a popsicle 😋

Jason: She’s a hero. And heroes get popsicles.

Bonus:

"Operation: Juice Box Escape" ft. Toddler!Reader in her Feral Era 😤🧃

Setting: Wayne Manor. 8:03 PM. Post-cookie-denial incident.

Bruce: “No more cookies, sweetheart. You already had three.”

Toddler!Reader (3 y/o, betrayed, betrayed like Mufasa): …Okay.

Five Minutes Later…

Alfred (noticing the silence): Sir… have you seen the young miss?

Cut to: Security Cam Footage – Toddler!Reader, dead serious, wearing sunglasses, a glittery Dora backpack, and a tutu, marching toward the door dragging her stuffed duck by the wing.

Inside the backpack:

6 juice boxes

2 teddy bears

A tiara

Bruce’s credit card

One cookie (stolen)

Reader (muttering to herself): I runnin' ‘way. Gonna live wif Super-man. He gimme cookies.

Batfam:

Tim (on the computer): Security breach detected—WAIT THAT’S HER.

Jason: Did she just say she’s going to live with Clark?? NOT ON MY WATCH.

Dick: Get the car!! I’ll bring the plushies!!

Damian: I TOLD YOU ALL TO INSTALL TODDLER-SIZED MOTION SENSORS.

Steph: already halfway out the door My BABY is FLEEING.

Meanwhile, on the sidewalk…

Toddler!Reader: sipping a juice box and holding out her thumb like she saw in a movie I hitchin’ a wide.

Random Driver: Uh—do you need help, little—

Jason (pulls up in the Batmobile): BACK OFF, SHE HAS TWO LEGAL GUARDIANS AND A NINJA FAMILY.

Toddler!Reader (arms crossed): You no let me eat da cookie.

Jason: Baby, we’ll buy you an entire bakery, just come back inside.

Reader: I wanna live wif Super-man. He NICE. He say I strong.

Bruce (arriving, out of breath): I’LL BUY YOU THE SUN. JUST NOT CLARK. PLEASE.

Later that night:

Reader is peacefully sleeping in Jason’s hoodie, surrounded by six plushies, two Batboys snoring on the floor, and one glittery crown on her head.

Cass (whispering): She has a cookie in her pocket.

Damian: Let her keep it. She earned it.

✨ BONUS QUOTE ✨

Reader (drowsy): Next time… I bring more juice.

Bruce (tucking her in): Next time, take me with you.

A/N: I think I got a bit carried away<3

Shelter

Natalie x Male Reader x Jackie

For @lifespectator

You and Natalie were lovers long before the plane crashed. You helped Natalie curb her habits a little. And now the two of you wandered the forest, hunting for food just hoping to stave off the calls for blood.

You hoped that the years your father spent training you as an off the grid survivalist would be a wasted endeavor and yet here you were - the de facto leader of the Yellowjackets and carrying the carcass of an adult Buck. Dad would’ve been thrilled.

Natalie stole a glance at you, her eyes giving you the once over.

“What?” You asked, shivering as the two of you trudged thru the snow back to camp.

“The beard’s coming in nicely” Natalie smirks, “makes you look like a rugged, sexy mountain man.”

“Nat” you said with a little whine as a bit of red made its way across your face. You were sure if you were blushing or if it was the cold air.

As the two of you approached camp you saw her laying in the snow. Jackie.

“What the hell?!” Natalie shouted as she ran and tried to shake Jackie

“Jackie! Jackie! Dammit! wake up!” You girlfriend tried to rouse the girl. “She’s ice cold”

You banged on the nearby cabin door. Locked and not a soul was answering. You approached another of the cabins. It was abandoned so it would have to do.

“Bring her here!” You ordered Natalie before slicing open the deer carcass.

“Oh shit” natalie practically gagged as the innards spilled out a little.

You grabbed Jackie and shoved her in. “The heat of the deer should keep her warm a little.”

“I’ll start a fire in the cabin” Natalie grabbed a match from you and went inside. You pulled the carcass inside. You glanced over at the other cabin. You could practically see Lottie looking thru the curtain.

Within minutes the cabin you and Natalie went in was brimming with heat. You could only hope you weren’t too late.

Natalie shut the door and kicked over a chair. “Dammit. We’re gone two hours and they descend into this!”

“Jackie is great at many things but surviving here in the wilderness isn’t one of them” you muttered as your eyes stayed fixed on the young soccer player currently still in the carcass of tomorrow’s rations.

Jackie woke up an hour or so later. Covered in deer guts and innards. The girl practically gagged.

“What the-?!” She found herself scrambling to escape the deer carcass.

“You were practically freezing” Natalie gently explained.

“To preserve your body temp, I shoved you inside our freshly killed dinner” you finished your girlfriend’s thought.

“You Empire Strikes Back’d me?!” Jackie tried to formulate.

“Never heard it explained that way but…yeah” you shrugged before helping Jackie out of the carcass, immediately wrapping your deerskin cloak around her.

“We’re sorry,” Natalie apologized as she wrapped Jackie in a hug. “It was the best we could think of while getting this shelter up and running.”

The three of you settled next to the stovetop fire pit, just trying to stay bundled against the harsh winter outside.

“Thank you,” Jackie muttered softly. “I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s alright” you gave Jackie a quick jostle. “Out here we all gotta look out for each other”

Jackie gave you a weak laugh.

“All for one and one for all” Natalie joked as she nuzzles you and Jackie.

Batfam x Neglected Tomie Reader

English version

In the Wayne Manor, there was a room without history. It had a small window, a neatly made bed, and a mirror without fingerprints. And in that room lived her.

She didn’t have a cape.

She didn’t have gadgets.

She didn’t have battle scars or soul wounds that others could see as worthy. She only had a face.

And in that house of masks, that meant nothing.

Since she was little, she learned not to make noise. When she walked through the carpeted hallways, she tiptoed, as if the echo of her steps were a crime.

When she spoke, she did it in a soft voice, afraid of interrupting the conversations between the heroes. When she laughed... she stopped. No one laughed with her.

She didn’t belong to the "team." She didn’t have official training. She wasn’t Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, or the new girl from the orphanage with a perfect memory. She was just the daughter. The mistake. The useless shadow.

Her mother had died giving birth to her. Bruce raised her out of duty. Alfred was polite but distant. And the rest... simply didn’t see her.

"Since when has she been here?" Tim once asked aloud, not realizing she was right behind him.

Jason mocked, "She's always been here. She's like a nice piece of furniture.Looks good, but isn't useful for fighting."

And they all laughed.

She didn’t.

She just looked at her hands, delicate and soft, then lowered her head.

Bruce never trained her. He said he didn’t want to "put her in danger," but everyone knew he didn’t trust her strength. He didn’t consider her useful. He taught her to keep silent. To observe. To read books instead of reading bodies in combat. And she did. She learned to see without being seen. To understand without asking. To lock everything she felt in a corner of her chest where no one could enter.

But there was one thing she inherited: the gaze. That deep and sharp look. The one that made the guilty tremble. Hers was different, yes. Softer. More beautiful. But just as hypnotic. And no one in the house dared to hold it for too long.

---

One day, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was fourteen years old.

She had the darkest eyes in Gotham.

She had lips as soft as silk.

She had skin that seemed sculpted. And she felt nothing. "What’s the point of being beautiful if no one sees you?"

Someone knocked on the door. It was Damian.

—Move, useless. Some of us have things to do.

She didn’t answer. She just lowered her gaze. But that night, she broke the mirror with her fist. She didn’t cry. She just bled.

---

Time passed. She turned fifteen. Then sixteen. She knew no one would go to her room on her birthday. She knew no one would say "I’m proud of you." She knew that, to them, she was a mistake without scars. So, she left.

She didn’t scream.

She didn’t leave a note.

She didn’t seek drama.

She simply made the bed.Closed the door. And disappeared.

Bruce didn’t search for her. "If she wants to come back, she will," he said coldly. And the rest continued with their missions.

No one imagined she would find another way to exist.

And to shine.

---

First came the photos. Self-portraits on lonely streets. Her face surrounded by shadows. Her silhouette reflected in puddles. Her lips slightly parted as if whispering secrets. Someone found them. Shared them. And the world… listened.

“They call her the Marble Girl.”

They said she had an impossible face. Too symmetrical. Too pure.

But what attracted them the most wasn’t her beauty. It was what she hid.

A silent sadness.

A threat without violence.

A sweetness that was poisonous.

---

At seventeen, she was in Paris.

She signed contracts without giving her real name. She modeled without saying a word. And every time the camera focused on her, the world stopped. Not because she smiled.

But because it seemed she didn’t need to.

She denied it.

And that... drove them crazy.

---

She lived alone. In a small glass apartment with black curtains.

She slept little. Dreamed a lot. And never looked back at Gotham.

She never mentioned her family. Not because she hated them. But because... they no longer existed for her.

They had died the day they forgot her.And she... had been reborn.

---

One night, an artist asked to paint her face.

—You have something tragic about you —the woman said, as she traced her jawline—. Like a broken virgin. Or a sad goddess.

She just smiled, without answering. And when the painting was displayed, people cried in front of the canvas. They didn’t know why.

It just... hurt.

---

At eighteen, the world already knew her. Magazines. Art videos. Red carpets.

But never interviews.

Never words.Only that presence. Mysterious. Distant. Unreachable.

And then... Bruce saw her.

---

He was working in the Batcave when her image appeared on the screen. An irrelevant article. A gossip piece.

But there she was. Sitting in a velvet chair. Dressed in black. Surrounded by photographers. And smiling. That smile. Calm. Unbreakable.

Free. Bruce blinked.

—It can’t be… Dick looked down.

Jason clenched his fists.

Tim swallowed hard.

Damian, for the first time, said nothing.

Because they all remembered her. And she didn’t remember them.

—Why didn’t she come back? Dick murmured.

Jason clenched his fists. —Because we didn’t make her feel part of this.

Damian whispered: —She seems happy.

Bruce didn’t answer. He just looked at the screen. And inside, something broke.

It wasn’t guilt.

It wasn’t love.

It was fear.

Because she didn’t need them. And that... was unforgivable.

Surviving The Wilderness

Pairings: yellowjackets x reader

Summary: With how much effort you had put in trying to look after the group as the seasons start to change, you get dubbed the unofficial mom of the team. Find request here.

Winter was on the horizon. Temperatures were starting to drop even further during the night and daylight hours were shortening with each day that had passed. With no foreseeable chance of rescue happening any time soon, the group had to prepare for the oncoming harshness of the next season. 

There was only so much you could do with having very little to begin with but you were trying your best, as was everyone else. At first it was just the menial tasks that you had double downed on, the chores everyone had already been doing in order to get by.

The pile of firewood stood tall and proud in the attic of the cabin. You had buddied yourself up with Tai to collect as much dry wood as the two of you could. There wasn’t a shortage of wood out in the wilderness but it would mean spending less time out in the cold for necessities when it came to it.

You had also started out marking out all of the spots for potential food. Colder temperatures didn’t immediately mean there’d be nothing available to eat, or at least you hoped, but you figured knowing where food could grow would be important for when it became a scarcity. You weren't sure what you were going to do if the snow rolled in early but you didn’t like thinking about that. 

You had paired yourself up with Misty for your impromptu foraging trip. The girl knew an uncanny amount of facts about mushrooms and berry bushes, the whole sorts. While you were out there, you used a copy of one of Natalies maps she had made while out hunting to mark off all the potential spots for food. The two of you also took the chance to gather what you could to add to the rations. Food was the main concern for everyone at the moment. 

Misty had talked your ear off the entire day. She was probably excited that someone had actually sought out her company. It was rather endearing when she got excited by the sight of a specific mushroom and how serious she would suddenly turn when warning you not to touch a specific plant you’d stumble across. 

While you had entertained her rambles and managed to learn a thing or two about how to spot a poison berry from a safe one, you didn’t know how to keep up with all her energy. You were kind of thankful for the quietness of the cabin that night.

Preparations for winter weren’t the only thing on your mind. You liked keeping up the morale of the team, being a shoulder to lean on for anyone who needed it, or a person to confide in. It brought a smile to your own face when you managed to make one of your friends smile. It was what you were there for. 

Jackie had pulled you aside from the campfire you were all perched around outside, telling you she needed to talk to you about something important. You were in the middle of learning how to whittle with a few of the other girls but a small break wouldn’t hurt anyone, you’d catch back up when you got back. 

“You’ve really stepped up out here.” Jackie was proud of the efforts you had put in, you were holding up surprisingly well. “Thank you for being the leader I couldn’t be.”

Jackie had especially seemed to be struggling with the adjustment of being stranded out in the wilderness. You couldn’t see it at first, not when she was the most hopeful about getting rescued, doing the most she could to keep her team up and going but the longer she stayed out here, the more that sparked dampened. 

As much as her comment made you proud of your own achievements, it also struck a chord within you. 

“Hey, it’s not easy out here but you’re trying your best and that's what matters, right?” You offered her a reassuring smile. You couldn’t blame her for not adjusting so quickly. The chain of jarring events you had all been through over the past few weeks wasn’t easy to get over.

“It feels like I'm losing my mind out here.” Jackie tried to crack a smile but you could tell it was forced. 

“You’re not the only one going a little crazy out here, you don’t have to cope through this alone.” You reached out to her and enveloped her in a comforting embrace that she immediately leaned into. You hoped she’d remember that. She never had to do anything alone. You were still a team.

The two of you stayed like that for an extended moment. You felt like she needed this so you weren’t going to pull back until she did.

“You’re a really great friend.” Jackie mumbled into your shoulder.

“I’ve got your back, alright? We’ll get through it. All of us will.” Even if it wasn’t easy.

The stillness of the cabin after sundown was always something that unnerved you for some reason. You didn’t like prolonged moments of silence but sometimes everyone was too exhausted after a long day and they didn’t have the energy to keep themselves entertained. 

The first time you had brought up the idea of telling each other stories at night, it wasn’t so well received but you were determined to provide some sort of entertainment.

“Bedtime stories? Seriously? What are you, my mom?” Taissa  mocked.

“Your mom still reads you bedtime stories?” Van jestered.

“Shut up.” Taissa rolled her eyes at Van's joke. That wasn’t what she meant.

“It doesn’t have to be some fairytale woe it can be about anything. Have some fun making up your own world or something.” You tried reasoning with them, seeing the potential in the fun that could come from such a thing. You didn’t see the harm in indulging in your creative sides again, even for something a little silly and childish. It’d let you be teenagers again and not just survivors.

“I think I’ve got something.” The look on Van’s face had Taissa groaning and that could only mean one thing. Whatever the girl had in mind was going to be the most ridiculous and therefore amusing story you would ever hear. 

Since then, storytelling with Van every other night or so practically became a nighttime routine. Sometimes it was the smaller things that counted, the silly things that kept everyone looking forward. Everyone would huddle around the fireplace wrapped up in their blankets while you and Van sat on your chairs telling stories, some a little spooky the others pure comedy gold.

The days were only becoming shorter as each one had passed. The looming threat of winter hanging over you all but you were keen on making it your job to make sure each and every one of your teammates would make it through the next season. You’d be there for them every step of the way, no matter what they needed.

Supplying everyone with proper winter attire was next up on your agenda. You had become everyone's self appointed tailor so to speak. There was a spare suitcase in the makeshift pantry room of the cabin where everyone had spared a few things for anyone to take for grabs. You picked off a few stray buttons from the case and a small selection of spare material from clothing, making sure to leave plenty left for anyone else too.

Everyone had their own clothes they could layer themselves up in when it came to that so luckily you didn’t have to worry too much about that. If you had to, you’d remind anyone who was going outside for a prolonged period to remember to take a headscarf with them. 

You had done your best sewing a couple of pairs of gloves, especially for Natalie and Travis who were going to be out in the cold the most as they were the appointed hunters of the group. With what you had, you managed to make a few pairs and one of them was even an adjustable size by threading the button that held the pieces together through a different hole of the three you had poked through. That way everyone would have something that fit them.

You hoped the pair you made for Travis was the right size, you couldn’t exactly use your own measurements from your hands for his gloves. “Try these on for me?” He was surprised when you had approached him, offering up the items of clothing to him.

“What are these for?” Despite his question, he took the gloves from your hand.

“For when you go hunting with Nat.” You explained like it was obvious. “You two are outside the most out of all of us so I figured I should make sure you at least stay warm out there.”

They probably had one of the most important jobs, keeping everyone fed. You couldn't afford them falling ill or anything like that. You noticed that they had already been waking up earlier to get out in the early morning and while you wanted to applaud their efforts in feeding the group, it did worry you a little that they were sacrificing so much rest and walking about in the dark so you figured you'd look after them the only way you knew how.

“Yeah, I'll be using these. Thanks.” Luckily the gloves fit him pretty well as he wiggled his fingers around to test the amount of movement he had in them.

“Stay safe out there.” You nodded curtly with a proud smile on your face, happy that the gift turned out well.

It was when Natalie and Travis kept coming back from their hunting trips empty handed more and more often that you really kicked into gear. Things started to feel a little more real to you then, like there really was something to worry about or fuss over. Being cold and bored was one thing but starving out here was another. You had to find a way to keep everyone well nourished.

In order to do that, tea had become the next thing you tried to master. Everyone liked tea, right? It may not have been the most filling thing but with the right ingredients it would have a good amount of the necessary nutrients to keep you going. Plus it didn't take too many resources to make which made it accessible to drink daily.

This was the third evening you had gone around the group offering up your cups of tea. The one you had made this time was tinted with mixed berries seeing as Misty had gone to you with what was left over. She didn’t want them to go to waste and they couldn’t be stored away for much longer or else they’d go off so she figured you could make use of them.

“Didn’t take you for such a tea connoisseur.” Shauna teased, then getting nudged in the side by Jackie who mumbled something about how you were just being nice. 

Making tea was something new to you and not every pot came out perfect but oddly enough you enjoyed making a new batch every time.

“Here, Nat, you’re shivering.” You offered up a fresh cup of hot berry tea to her, knowing it could help warm her up. 

“It’s fine, really, I’m good.” She held up her hand in a gentle refusal, brushing your offer off but that only made you catch sight of her pink fingertips. She had been out all day with the shotgun, maybe it was already getting colder than you thought.

Despite her words, you pushed the cup into her open hand and she couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the warmth it brought to her cold hand. Maybe your offer wasn’t such a bad one after all. You smiled triumphantly when she took the mug from you and started sipping away at the drink.

“Wait there a moment.” There wasn’t much reason for Nat to be going anywhere now that she had the chance to relax but you wanted to make sure she stayed put. Seconds later you came back with one of the blankets and you draped it over her shoulders for her, making sure it stayed in place over her body to preserve as much heat as possible.

“You’re such a mom, y’know that?” Natalie raised an eyebrow at your coddling and your cheeks tinted pink when her comment earned a few chuckles from around the group. That wasn’t the first time you had been compared to a mom by one of the girls, you hoped you weren’t doing too much. 

Ironically, it was one of the moments Nat had felt most cared for, she hardly had a problem with your naturing ways. She didn’t get that sort of treatment back home. 

“Well I’m not letting you freeze to death on me.” You justified your actions sheepishly but the moment Nat sent you a gentle smile, you relaxed. She didn’t actually seem to mind the fact you were fussing over her.

Another day brought another cold night. You had made sure the fireplace was lit up enough to last for as long as it could throughout the night. “Does everyone have enough blankets?” You asked the group before you let yourself settle down in your own makeshift bed. It was better to check before you tucked yourself in.

“Yes mom.” Shauna goaded, earning a huff from you, and a few snickers sounded out throughout the room. The newly appointed nickname was coming up more and more recently.

“Hey! You’ll be thanking me when I save your asses from your reckless selves.” You loved your team, you really did, but some of them really lacked the self preservation that they needed out here and someone needed to take care of them.

Shauna waved off your comment and seeing as no one had complained about being too cold, you let yourself settle down in your own bundle of blankets that was placed next to Lotties. 

“You’re doing a good job at looking after all of them.” Lottie appraised you, having taken note of your continuous efforts. 

“I want to make sure everyone else makes it through this.” You could only hope your actions would pay off. 

“You’re the best mom I could ask for.” Lottie’s smile wasn’t one of mockery, it was of appreciation and you finally found yourself laughing along with the joke. Maybe being the appointed caretaker wasn’t so bad.

any headcanons for nat with a tmasc reader? :]

she likes to steal your clothes all the time (⁠^⁠^⁠) you barely have any clothes left in your dresser cause they're all shoved in hers or tucked somewhere in that pile of clothes on the bedroom floor. she chooses to wear your shirt when waking up the morning after, sometimes even your boxers. she wears your sweaters when it's cold. she uses your ripped up shirts when you help her bleach her hair again 😒

you're jealous of her voice ;-; or maybe that's just me...but she reassures you so much when you get voice dysphoria :( she gets sad when you go mute sometimes because of how bad it gets. she's kissing your cheek, rubbing your back, and knows just the right words to cheer you up. helps you voice train if you want to, or just helps you get more comfortable with your voice. always mentions how sexy she thinks it is. begs you to keep talking but if you're genuinely uncomfortable, she stops and apologizes... likes kissing your adams apple too :) if you don't have one, she likes kissing your throat and hearing/feeling you hum.

calls you a pussy for almost passing out at your monthly blood work appointments (if you hate them just as much as me) after you come out and tell her how nervous you were, but was right there in the waiting room, rubbing your arm and putting her hand on your bouncing leg to try and calm your nerves. never makes fun of you (at least not too much..) if you want her to go in with you because you feel calm and safe with her there.

nat giving you cool haircuts 😁 she has such good style that you trust her to give you a haircut. makes sure to tell you how handsome you are and kisses you until you believe it. you love when she has her hands in your hair/on your face guiding you where to look so she can cut, and she likes touching you in general ! :)

scrawny lil nat with buff or even chubby tmasc reader.... she's got some muscle, but barely. she loves the size diff tbh. loves how beefy you are and loves that tummy. she loves post-shot times where either she or you inject the T into your stomach and then loves to rest her head on your bellayyy. she loves how she can squeeze your thighs and arms and belly and cheeks and everything. also loves being carried.

singer!reader whose singing voice changes drastically on T and nat who fucking loves it. you were able to do high notes but now you can't really do them without your voice cracking... goddd she lives for your voice. starts geeking and giggling to herself when she catches you singing. requests her favorite songs always....... asks you to sing her to sleep or sing to calm her down when she's having bad days :(

nat who does ur makeup :) making your face more masculine with tutorials she found online, getting distracted by how handsome you are, and messing it up with her kisses... or if you like wearing makeup, she likes sitting in your lap and doing it. nat who always forgets to put blush on your cheeks because you're constantly red while she's holding your face so gently anyway 😭

nat who starts arguments with anyone who looks at your trans pins weirdly. if they look at you weirdly, let alone say anything, may god not have mercy on their soul... she will get into fights for you. she doesn't take that shit lightly at all. idkk. just thinking about talks with her about staying stealthy after she almost got arrested one day for assaulting someone (deserved) who was being weird to you. telling her you don't feel safe even when she confronts them and protects you :( asking if she could just leave it and focus on you. but also jokingly bumping her shoulder and saying, "i don't care what you do after, though. if they end up dead on the news, i don't know anything." and she smiles

nat buying you trans books/films. ESPECIALLY films. :D buying you gender affirming things all the time, her heart bursting at how happy you are when she gifts them to youuu

Genderbend!Yellowjackets x leitor

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mention of blood, language, murder, alcohol and drugs and suggestive themes.

Based on the Paramount TV Series: YellowJackets

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

Episodes:

000-The Pit Boy

001- Nostalgia

002- Just Another Trip

003- High and Dry

extra:

Before The Storm (part 1)

Before The Storm (part 2)

Your male reader gave me ideas. 👀👀👀

Sooo how about a soul painter make reader. Soul painter are like people who can see one’s soul and their painting is creation itself. They give their paintings life, a soul. You can hear what they draw, if they drew the forest, you can hear birdsongs and such.

So why a male? Because I feel it would hit harder. Captain America reader? Well the batfam disliked him cause he was weak right? So I thought soul painter reader would be disliked because he was unmanly. And him painting doesn’t help. (This was before Damian. They never held affection for reader so they won’t be loved like Damian)

Well maybe this reader seemed out their affection as a child but as they grew older (14 or something) they decide money is more important and start stealing a little every day. (Who would notice $100 disappear every day from a billionaires house?)

Well $100 every day would be a crazy amount in like a year or two. ($36 500 a year). They would run off with a scholarship to an art school in Paris with the money and flourish. (of course he’s the main character)

Well Damian arrives at the mansion and he likes art so they mention reader likes art and he can talk to them about it. Damian would have already spent some time w the batfam and mellowed out so tries to find reader to talk about his fav artist (reader of course lol). He doesn’t find reader and asks the batfam about it.

Panic. MUAHAHAHAHHA anyways as they try to find reader, Damian mentions his fav artist (reader) and they go- oh my god so this is where he went???

They called him soft.

Delicate. Too emotional. Too quiet. A boy who painted when he should’ve trained. A dreamer in a world of soldiers.

He was born into the Batfamily, adopted with distant nods and cold shoulders. Bruce took him in, but never really saw him—saw the paint under his fingernails and thought waste of potential. Dick was busy, Jason didn’t care, Tim thought he was weird, and the girls? Distant. Dismissive. Not cruel, but not kind either.

So he tried to earn it—their affection. Little scribbles left on their desks, small paintings he poured his soul into. They were beautiful, too. Breathtaking. Magical. You could hear the laughter in the park scenes, feel the warmth of the sun in his golden brushstrokes. He thought maybe they’d see the beauty in him.

They didn’t.

So, at fourteen, he stopped trying.

He started stealing instead.

$100 a day. Nothing too noticeable, not in a mansion where money leaked from the walls. He found a scholarship—an elite art school in Paris. And with his stolen savings and heart packed in a sketchbook, he left Gotham behind.

No goodbyes.

Years pass.

Damian Wayne arrives at the manor, blade-sharp and broken in all the ways a child assassin is. The family braces for impact—but then he picks up a paintbrush.

He loves art. Finds peace in it. And one day, over tea, Alfred mentions, “You know… you might’ve liked the boy who used to live here.”

Damian pauses. “Used to?”

“Your brother. He was an artist too.”

“…Was?”

The family stiffens.

Damian, curious and persistent as always, asks more questions. He’s been mellowed by the manor, by Alfred’s warmth and Dick’s guidance. And now he’s hunting down an artist he’s obsessed with—the anonymous painter whose work is taking the Parisian underground by storm. His name? Just one word.

Réalité.

His paintings aren’t just seen—they’re experienced. Forests where you can hear birdsong, oceans with crashing waves, lullabies captured on canvas. They don’t just evoke emotion—they are emotion. Damian wants to meet him. Wants to learn from him.

And then—he shows them the painting.

And Bruce goes still.

The Batfamily stares at the canvas, the way the golden light bleeds through the leaves, how the laughter echoes from unseen mouths. A childhood. A home. Something warm, distant, aching. Familiar.

Tim whispers, “That’s… the treehouse from the manor…”

Jason mutters, “That’s our old living room. The crack in the fireplace tile—he painted that.”

Dick’s face crumples.

Damian just blinks. “You know him?”

And Bruce finally says it.

“…That’s him.”

The one they left behind.

Meanwhile, in Paris…

He’s twenty now. Sharp jaw, quiet eyes, and a presence that hums with power. They call him a genius. A visionary. His soul paintings hang in hidden galleries, and people travel continents just to weep beneath them.

He doesn’t talk much. But he paints constantly.

And lately?

He’s been painting Gotham.

Not the skyline. Not the grime.

But memories. A treehouse in summer. A boy with black hair holding a sword. A father figure watching from the shadows. A cold manor that’s started to look a little warmer in the colors he uses.

He paints them not as they were, but as he wished they’d been.

Because maybe, just maybe, part of him still wants to be found.

And the Batfamily? Oh, they’re running. A/N: Tbh this b my typa man bc I know his fingers are goood hehehe

ɪ’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ | ᴊ.ᴛ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1050

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴀᴄᴋɪᴇ’ꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴀᴄᴋɪᴇ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀ/ɴ: ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴢᴏᴍʙɪᴇ ᴀɴᴏɴ!!! ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴛʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ. ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ!!!! <3

You don’t mean to wander. It’s never on purpose. You’re not looking for berries or firewood or someplace to be alone.

It just… happens.

One minute you’re standing by the cabin with Jackie’s hand brushing yours, her voice tugging at the air like thread, soft, teasing, safe, and the next minute, you’re somewhere else. Somewhere quieter. You’re not even sure when you walked off. Not really. The trees aren’t even that different from the ones near camp, but now they’re closer together. Everything is muffled like it’s under snow, even though it hasn’t fallen yet.

You hug your arms around yourself and try to remember how far you went. Try to remember if anyone saw it. You didn’t mean to leave. You didn’t mean to worry anyone.

“Babe?” It’s Jackie’s voice, breaking through the quiet, “Babe— oh my God, there you are.”

You don’t look up right away, but her sneakers crunch over twigs and dead leaves until she’s right in front of you, hands already reaching, already checking if you’re hurt or shivering or just mentally gone in that way that makes her chest go tight.

“Hey,” she says, more gently now, her hand coming to rest on your elbow, then trailing down to your wrist. “What did I say about going into the woods without me?”

“I wasn’t—” Your voice catches, dry and small. You shift on your feet and try to smile. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”

She doesn’t look mad. She never really does. Even when her heart’s hammering in her chest, even when she’s scared.

“I know,” she says, and she sounds sad in that soft, familiar way she gets sometimes, like she’s hugging you with her voice. “But still. You scared me.”

You look down. “I’m sorry—“

Jackie sighs, as she steps in close and wraps her arms around you without hesitation. It’s not always easy, finding warmth out here. Everything is colder, harsher, even the air. But Jackie is warm, she always is. Especially when you don’t feel like you deserve it.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she murmurs into your hair. “You just have to stay with me. Alright? Just… stay.”

You nod into her shoulder and feel the way her arms tighten around you like she can sense the way your thoughts try to pull you out of your own skin.

“You were overthinking again, weren’t you?” she says, not accusing, just knowing.

You don’t answer.

“I bet I can guess exactly what it was this time,” she continues, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. “You were thinking I’m better off without you. Or that I don’t want to be with you anymore. Or that you’re too much.”

It hurts a little how spot-on she is.

“I—” You blink too fast. “It’s not fair that you always know.”

Jackie just smiles, tilting her head and brushing your hair back behind your ear. “No, it’s not, but I do. So listen to me, okay?”

You nod, because you’ll always listen to her, even if your brain still picks every word apart and second-guesses it later.

“Yes, I still love you,” she says clearly. Firmly. Like it’s something you need to hear over and over again until it sinks into your bones. “I’m not leaving, I’m not mad, and you’re not too much. I don’t care how many times I have to say it.”

You sniff, and your arms curl around her again. She’s smaller than she looks, all fine angles and gentle perfume that somehow still lingers in the wilderness. Like a reminder of home.

“I don’t want to be like this,” you admit into the curve of her neck. “I hate how my brain works sometimes.”

Jackie rubs slow circles into your back with the palm of her hand. “I know. But you’re not broken. You’re just you. And I happen to love you.”

You close your eyes, breathing her in.

“You always know exactly what I’m thinking.”

She hums softly. “It’s kind of my job, isn’t it?”

“What, girlfriend-slash-mind-reader?”

“Girlfriend-slash-anchor,” she says, leaning her forehead against yours. “Slash professional reminder that you are not a burden and I want you here.”

You laugh, a weak one, but it’s real.

“Even when I drift off all the time?”

She rolls her eyes and kisses your nose. “Especially then. You think I’d let you go off into the snow alone? Babe, please. If I have to tie a rope around your wrist, I will.”

You laugh softly and lean your weight against her. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

You smile, “Yeah, I do.”

She kisses your cheek then and laces your fingers together. Her hand is warm against your cold one, and it squeezes just enough to ground you.

“Come back?” she asks gently.

You nod.

And so you walk back to the cabin together, her arm around your shoulders like she’s afraid you’ll slip away again if she’s not touching you. You probably will, eventually. Your brain always does this. Always pulls the rug out from beneath you when you’re not expecting it. But Jackie’s always there. Always pulling you back in and putting you back together. She doesn’t act like it’s a chore. She’s just always there when you need it.

She makes you tea from some leftover herbs Lottie scavenged earlier that day and puts an arm around your waist when you’re too quiet for too long, nudges your knee with hers at night when you start staring off into nothing.

“Hey- you still with me?” she’ll whisper, and you’ll blink and find her grinning at you, warm and understanding.

One night, while the others are asleep and the fire is still glowing faintly in the fireplace across the cabin, you lean in and whisper, “What if I never get better?”

Jackie rolls onto her side beside you, tucking herself against your chest and resting her head just below your chin, listening to your heartbeat.

“Then I’ll love you like this,” she says simply.

“Like this?”

“Exactly like this,” she says. “Lost in the woods. In your head. A little soft, a little distant. But still you, still mine.”

You smile before you can stop it. “You’re such a sap.”

She kisses the side of your neck. “Takes one to know one.”