summary: KINKTOBER DAY 4, lottie fucks you while you sleep.
kinktober list - masterlist
Lottie stirred awake, unable to sleep due to the friction from your ass moving right against her bulge. Lottie knew it was a bad idea to share a bed, she knew from the second she watched you change nothing but a shirt and underwear. She knew when she laid in bed with you and all she could focus on was the curves of your body and trying desperately to stop the growing hard-on that was barely concealed by her boxers.
Lottie tried to move away, but your bed was way too small, all she could do was lay and hope that you didn’t move your hips any more. This, however, was not the case. In your sleep, you moved your hips back, grinding right against Lottie.
A soft whine escaped your lips as Lottie’s bulge pressed right against the wet spot on your underwear, “(Y/n)?” Lottie asked, checking to see if you’re awake. Lottie moved about an inch back, all that the small bed allowed her to do. She looked at her boxers, the gray pair was now stained from the growing wet spot on your underwear.
‘If I get off once then I can go back to sleep,’ Lottie thought, her mind too clouded with lust to consider any other solution. Her hand grazed over her throbbing cock, removing it from her boxers and beginning to pump it in her hand. Then, you moved back, her tip was pressed right against the wet spot on your underwear.
It felt too good for Lottie to try and turn and face the other way and you were soaked anyways, ‘it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, I need this,’ Lottie thought, placing her hand on your hip and beginning to grind her cock against the soaked patch of your underwear. She slowly brought your hips closer to her, trying not to wake you as she continued to grind against you.
Soft whimpers left both yours and Lottie’s lips, but what had caught Lottie’s attention was the moan of her name that you let out. Suddenly, Lottie’s hips were moving faster than she had meant to – she was unable to control herself. Even in your sleep, you were responding to Lottie’s movements, pressing your core against her cock. Lottie could hardly contain her own moans, she was more focused on trying not to cum from grinding against your underwear.
“L-Lottie?” You sleepily called out, sounding far more awake this time.
Lottie’s movements stopped, her hand dropping from your hip as she froze, “(Y-Y/n)?” You turned to face her, half-asleep and not quite sure if this was a dream or not. Lottie’s hands moved to her cock, trying to cover herself.
You looked down, noticing the very visible hard-on that Lottie could barely conceal with her hands, ‘this must be a dream,’ you thought, ‘there’s no way Lottie Matthews got hard because of me.’
Without another word, you slipped off your panties, discarding them off the side of the bed, “I want more.” I mumbled. Lottie’s cock throbbed at your words and her hands moved back to your hip, her other on her cock as she pushed her cock through your wet folds, lubing it up. Your eyes closed, still drifting in and out of sleep and debating on whether or not this was a dream.
“Y-You’re so wet.” Lottie whispered, scared that if she was too loud you would fully wake up and realize what a perv Lottie Matthews really was.
Lottie’s cock rested at your entrance, she was shaking from how badly she wanted this. You were soaked, leaking onto her tip and causing Lottie to push her tip inside of you. Lottie moaned, trying not to cum just from that small action alone, “So fucking tight.” Lottie moaned, “So fucking wet.” Lottie took a deep breath to calm down, wanting to be able to properly fuck you before cumming.
Lottie slowly pushed another inch into you. She pulled back before thrusting, making you take another inch of her with every thrust. It didn’t take long before her cock was buried in you and Lottie was biting her lip, trying not to scream your name from how you clamped down around her cock with every buck of her hips.
Lottie had really tried not to cum too soon, but the second she heard your sleepy voice moan out her name once again; Lottie’s cock slammed into you, filling you up as she came. Lottie bit down on the blanket, trying desperately to stop the stream of moans falling from her lips as she pumped her load inside you.
Your eyes shot open as you felt Lottie fill you up, the action making you clamp down around her cock once more as you came, your own orgasm fully waking you up.
Lottie was a blabbering, fucked out mess, continuously repeating apologies as she continued to pump into you, even after cumming, “S-Sorry, you just felt s-sooo good, (Y/n)” Lottie's hips rocked, clearly not done fucking you now that you were fully awake.
summary: she’s been acting different since you ghosted her. when you finally show up at her soccer match, things get better. fluffy ending. part one.
it’s been a few weeks since the last time you spoke to lottie.
you’ve been doing your best to ignore the thoughts that invade your brain every day, such as the memories, the what-ifs, the echo of her voice and laugh.
avoiding her became part of your routine. you don’t even let yourself meet her eyes in the hallway or during class.
and yet, it’s hard not to notice how you see her less around school than before. less parties. less noise. still, one thing keeps replaying in your mind, over and over. “i really wanted this to work. this only happened with you.”
you shake the thought away when you spot mari waiting for you during lunch break. she’s leaning against a bench, already halfway through a granola bar when you reach her with a smile, or at least something you try to pass as one.
“hey, how was yesterday’s match? did you guys win?” you take a sandwich from her tray like it’s your own and start eating.
“don’t even get me started. we get worse every game! i mean we’re so close to nationals and lottie doesn’t even bothers to show up at practice like—” she cuts herself off, and your breath catches the second you hear her name. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bring her up.”
“it’s okay, don’t worry.” you look down as you pronounce the (not very) convincing words. “do you guys have talked to her about it?”
“well.. yeah. jackie did. but she wouldn’t listen to any of us. it’s like she doesn’t care anymore.” and there’s silence. an uncomfortable one. “but she still asks about you, you know.”
“c’mon, mari.” you chuckle at her words. “i’m being serious. she’s been acting so different since you came here, and even more different when you stopped talking to her.”
you don’t say anything. you just take another bite of the sandwich that doesn’t taste like anything anymore.
“look, i’m not going to pressure you anymore. and i know what i’ve said about her before, because yeah, i thought she was playing too. but now?” she pauses, watching you carefully. “i think she meant it. she really misses you. and i can tell you miss her too.“
you hesitate, your voice softer. “do you think she changed for me?”
“not for you,” mari says. “but because of you. and that’s better.”
you were about to open your mouth to respond when the bell rang. as you both stood up to head back to class, mari caught your attention one last time.
“i’m going to make sure she shows up to the match next week,” she murmured. “so.. if you want to give her another chance, you should come. but if you don’t, that’s okay too. i just want you to feel better again.”
so you start thinking about it all weekend.
you think about her. about how she looked that afternoon by the classroom door, the hurt in her eyes when she realized you didn’t believe her. you also think about mari, who has never been the biggest lottie matthews defender, and yet she believes she has changed for good. not for you, but because of you.
then match’s day arrives. but not just any match, this is the one that decides if they go to nationals, the biggest game of the season. of course you had to assist.
you don’t even tell mari you’re going. you just show up, hands buried in your pockets. you sit higher in the bleachers this time, hoping not to stand out, at least not yet.
the stadium’s louder than usual, more people, more pressure. the team is warming up when you arrive, and that’s when you spot her right away.
lottie is focused, a little more serious now. like she’s carrying something on her shoulders and trying not to let it break her.
you don’t think she has seen you. but halfway through the first half, she glances toward the stands, and then stops. her gaze locks on yours, frozen for a few seconds before she turns back to the field.
but then everything shifts. she starts playing like she needs this. like every move is for something bigger than just a win. you heard she hadn’t been herself in the last few games, but now? she’s electric. she owns the field, she controls the game.
when the final whistle blows, it’s official, they’ve won. they’re going to nationals. her teammates scream, jump, throw their arms around each other. but lottie doesn’t celebrate. she turns, breathless, scanning the bleachers again, searching for you.
you think about leaving before she finds you. you even stand up, taking a step toward the exit, but you don’t move any farther. and she notices that.
minutes later, you’re still standing at the edge of the bleachers when she finds you. she’s covered in sweat, her cheeks flushed from the nerves of seeing you again. neither of you says anything at first, the noise of the crowd fading around you.
“i didn’t think you would come.” she breaks the silence, her voice insecure, like she’s been holding something in for too long.
your heart beats fast. “i didn’t think i would either.” she laughs under her breath, but it’s not bitter, just tired. “i meant what i said,” she adds, softer now. “back then. i still do.”
and finally, you really see her. not the version you built in your head, the flirty, careless girl everyone warned you about. that’s not who’s standing in front of you now, and you know it.
“i’m sorry i didn’t believe you, lotts. but i do now. and i miss you more than anything.”
“then prove it.” she says without hesitation, smiling. a real smile, one she hasn’t worn in a long time.
you just step closer, wrapping your arms around her neck confidently. her hands find their way to your waist, like that’s exactly where they belong. and then, you kiss her.
it’s slow, careful, like you’re both still afraid it might break. but it doesn’t. around you, the crowd is still celebrating, but for once, lottie matthews isn’t chasing a win. she’s holding it in her hands.
about. you love natalie, but you aren’t sure if she loves you back
warnings. blood, death, angst, sadness, yellowjackets spoilers (for season three episode six)
Just by looking at her you knew you were in love.
You thought at first that you only liked her because you were stranded in the wilderness and she was the only one who had seemed to catch your eye, but it turned out to be more than that. You love everything about Natalie Scatorccio.
You loved her dyed blonde hair that was slowly turning brunette again.
You loved the curve of her lips that you wanted to kiss so badly.
You loved everything about her. You realised eventually that you loved her even way before the crash, you just didn’t realise it.
You caught yourself getting flustered just by her presence. When her eyes locked with yours you felt like your entire body was on fire.
When she was passing out orders to the other yellowjackets her eyes would meet yours, and you swore you felt something pass between the two of you. But that faded away when Natalie looked the other way, not noticing your saddened expression as she made herself busy with a task.
You hoped that maybe, just maybe that she felt the same, that she wanted her lips on yours —
“Hey,” You snapped out of your trance to see Melissa stood in front of you, you almost rolled your eyes but didn’t because you didn’t want Shauna to cut your limbs off. “Natalie put you on Coach Scott duty.” You raised your eyebrow at her words.
“Why me?” You ask.
Melissa shrugs, “She probably trusts you more than anyone else.” She said casually, not waiting for your reply as she walked away. You stare at her retreating figure, her words passing through your head.
Natalie trusted you?
You shake off any of those thoughts, stopping yourself from getting distracted as you make your way over to where Coach currently was, with the animals.
He scoffs when he sees you instead of Natalie.
You lean down to his level, holding a plate of food.
“You have to eat, Coach.” You push the plate on the ground towards him, urging him to eat it, but he just pushes it away.
He ignores your words, “Nat sent you, huh?”
You hesitantly nod, “I don’t want you to die, Coach.” You push the plate back to him, “Eat.” You say more strictly this time.
You go to walk away but Coach stops you in your tracks. “You need to tell her how you feel.” You turn back around to look at him.
You act clueless, but you knew exactly what he was on about. “What are you talking about?” You ask, exasperated.
He rolls his eyes, “You know exactly who I’m talking about,” He then says your name. “She needs you more than ever right now.”
You frown at his words as you walk back over to him, now sitting in front of him again. “How do you know?” You ask shyly, looking around as if everyone was listening in, but no one was and they wouldn’t be able to anyway considering you were both speaking at a quiet level.
“It’s obvious” He says your name again, “I’ve seen it before all of this. As your coach, nothing goes unnoticed.” You swallow the lump in your throat as you stand up again, walking away without a word. You were overwhelmed with what he said. Was it that obvious? Did everyone else notice it?
Coach was dead by the hands of Natalie.
You couldn’t bring yourself to feel sad. All you felt was sorrow for Natalie. You knew her and Coach were close.
The rest of the Yellowjackets were shouting at her, mostly the shouting being Misty, but she seemed so out of it. Coach’s blood on her face as she stares off. She ignores the shouts of the rest of the team and simply walks into where she slept in the camp.
You hesitated to follow her, not sure if she wanted the company but you followed her anyway. She needed assurance that not everyone was mad at her.
Firstly you grabbed a small bucket of water and a cloth, before walking to the ‘door’ of where Natalie currently was, knocking quietly on the side of it.
She looks up, dazed before sighing. “If you’re here to yell at me, I don’t wanna hear it.” She told you.
You shake your head, “I’m not here to do that.” You assured softly as you hesitated to sit in front of her, placing the bucket and cloth next to you. You look at her hands and her bloodied face as you grab the cloth and dip it in the water. “Can I?” You asked, not wanting to push boundaries. She nodded, her eyes foggy.
Natalie watches you as you take her hand in yours, gliding the cloth along it, cleaning her hands, but no matter how much you cleaned them her hands will never be clean. Coach’s blood will always be on them.
You then move to her face, hesitating once again as you dab the wet cloth on her face, one hand holding the material and the other holding her chin. You didn’t notice her breath hitch as you did this, considering your heart was beating rapidly in your chest.
You get Coach’s blood off of her face, muttering, “All done.” You go to move backwards, giving her personal space back but Nat didn’t seem to want that. She grabs your hands with her hands that were previously bloody, and pulls you back closer.
She whispered a small thank you, you felt her breath on your face due to your close proximity. You almost never heard her due to your heartbeat in your ears.
The blood rushed to your cheeks, as you both stared into eachothers eyes, waiting on who was going to make the first move.
Natalie makes the first move, she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen in your face.
She then bumps her nose with yours, her watery eyes looking into yours as if she was asking if you wanted this. You nodded slightly, Natalie wasting no time to meet your lips, you tasted her salty tears that were now streaming down her face.
You pull back slowly, Nat tries to chase your lips but you put your hands on her face, wiping the stray tears from her cheeks. “Are you okay?” You ask, concern etched on your features.
Her eyes meet yours, her lip trembling as more tears find their way down her cheeks. She shakes her head as she shakily manages to reply to you. “No, but I will be.” Her hands find yours on her face, closing her eyes at your touch.
#NOTES
sorry if this isnt great but i wanted to write for yellowjackets 🙏
⤷ the roster (profiles) pt. 2 here!
⤷ a butcherqueen rivals to lovers modern smau!
⤷ timestamps don't matter!!
⤷ cw :: swearing, sexual references, mental illness humor
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ lottie matthews
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ shauna shipman
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ natalie scatorccio
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ jackie taylor
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ taissa turner
゛ ⸝⸝.ᐟ⋆ van palmer
⤷ pt. 2 coming soon! includes :: travis martinez, robin garcia, mari ibarra, akilah ellis, laura lee miller, melissa warner, misty quigley
⤷ coming soon :: playlist!
⤷ taglist : @icantthinkofablognameatm @imsiriuslycool @javiimartinez + comment to be added!
Reader and Shauna have some things going on between them but they keep it on the low since Shauna spiraled down with the hunts and is purely power drunk as an Antler Queen.
ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴡɴ | ꜱ.ꜱ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 823 (blurb)
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: During the day, Shauna belongs to the wilderness—but at night, she belongs to you.
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Shauna Shipman x Gn! reader
ᴀ/ɴ: Hi, sorry for being inactive for like half of last month, I had a lot going on. 😭
The hunts have changed her. You see it in her shoulders, how they square a little tighter each time she walks back into camp wearing blood that isn’t hers. You hear it in her voice when she speaks and people actually listen now, not because they want to, but because they’re afraid of what happens if they don’t.
She’s always been sharp. Always had a bite. But now, it’s different. She doesn’t just hold the knife, she is the knife.
And yet, somehow, when the fire dies down and the girls start drifting off to whatever sleep looks like in this hellscape, she finds her way to you.
You sit in the corner of your hut, sketching in the dull light of a dying candle. Branches. Bone. Sometimes her. You don’t think she’s noticed that part.
“You’re up,” she says, voice low, almost bored.
“You’re back late.”
Shauna shrugs off her coat like it’s made of someone else’s skin. Maybe it is. You don’t ask. You haven’t asked in a long time. That kind of honesty died somewhere between the first snow and the second body.
Her hands are stained, dried blood under her nails, smeared on her forearms. She doesn’t bother washing them before coming to you.
“You missed dinner,” she says, though there’s a flicker in her eyes that says she knows why.
“I wasn’t hungry.”
She looks at you for a second too long. Then she walks over and sits beside you like it’s nothing. Like she didn’t just order someone to die three days ago and no one blinked.
Her thigh presses against yours. She smells like smoke and iron.
“Show me what you were drawing,” she says, eyes flicking toward the page.
You hesitate. Not because you don’t want her to see, but because most of the page is her. The sharp angle of her jaw. Her expression right before she tells someone to run. The antler crown. The hunger in her eyes.
She tilts her head when you don’t move, a slow, calculated lean that says she’ll get her way eventually.
You let her see.
Shauna doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t mock or deflect. She just studies the page with this unreadable calm, like she’s searching for something in your lines.
“This how you see me?” she asks after a moment. Her voice is flat, but you can feel the tension winding through it.
You nod once. “Sometimes.”
She hums like she doesn’t know what to do with that. Then she leans in, pressing her lips just under your jaw, slow and bruising. Not sweet. Not soft.
“I can’t have them knowing about this,” she murmurs like that’s the part that matters. Not the way your hands always find her in the dark. Not the way she breathes a little steadier when you kiss her neck.
You nod again because you already know. She’s the Antler Queen now. The wilderness listens to her, or so she says. So they say. But the real power is fear.
“Wouldn’t want to ruin your image,” you say, dry and sarcastic.
She pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not.” You flip the page in your sketchbook. Blank. “I just don’t know why we bother if we can’t even—”
“Because I need you,” she cuts in, voice sharper than before. “Not them. You. That’s why.”
Your chest aches in a way that makes you feel stupid.
“You don’t act like it.”
Shauna exhales through her nose and reaches for your wrist, her fingers curling around it, firm but not cruel.
“They think I’m some goddamn prophet now. Like I hear the trees or some shit,” she says, and there’s something ugly behind her voice, some twist of resentment she hasn’t let herself voice aloud before.
“And you don’t?”
She stares at you. “I hear you. That’s the only voice that doesn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin.”
You’re quiet. Because what are you supposed to say to that?
She kisses you again, harder this time, like she’s trying to make you forget every fucked-up thing she’s done since the crash.
You kiss her back maybe because you’re weak, because you love her, because no matter how far she slips into whatever version of herself the wilderness has created, she always comes back to you.
Later, when you’re lying side by side on your makeshift bedroll that barely counts as a bed, she pulls your hand into her lap and traces the scars on your knuckles.
“You can’t leave,” she says, not a request.
“I know.”
“You won’t leave.”
You hesitate but nod your head anyway.
“I won’t.”
Shauna closes her eyes like that’s the only answer she’s been waiting for.
“They’d turn on me if they knew,” she says. “If they thought I could be soft.”
“I won’t let them.”
Her voice is small when she says it, barely audible over the wind outside “Good.”
shauna shipman and the art of pretending she’s not in love with you (until she can’t)
**shauna shipman x reader | yellowjackets | 2.1k | jealous possessive shauna, mutual pining, pre-crash, everyone lives (for now), first person reader POV**
---
I’ve known Shauna Shipman since we were six, when she decided my juice box was hers because hers had a leak. Jackie was there too, laughing like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen, and that was it: we were a unit. Jackie, Shauna, me. Inseparable. Untouchable. I never thought anything could wedge itself between us, but lately, Shauna’s been building walls I didn’t even know she could construct. Not around herself, around me.
It starts small. I’m talking to Nate from the lacrosse team after practice, just dumb stuff about the upcoming game, and I catch Shauna watching from the bleachers. Her arms are crossed, her jaw tight, like she’s holding back a scream. When Nate asks if I want to grab coffee sometime, I laugh it off, but Shauna’s already moving. She’s down the steps and at my side before I can blink.
“We’re late,” she says, grabbing my wrist. Not hard, but firm. Like she’s done it a thousand times. Like I belong to her.
“Late for what?” I ask, but she’s already pulling me toward the parking lot, her grip a silent warning. Nate calls after me, something about texting me later, and Shauna’s fingers tighten. She doesn’t look back.
In the car, Jackie’s in the passenger seat, scrolling through her phone. “You two are so dramatic,” she says without looking up. “He was cute.”
Shauna doesn’t answer. She’s driving, knuckles white on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road like it’s personally offended her. I want to ask what her deal is, but the set of her shoulders stops me. She’s not mad. She’s something else. Something that makes my stomach twist.
It gets worse at school. There’s this girl, Mari, from my English class. She’s quiet, artsy, always doodling in the margins of her notebook. We start sitting together during free periods, trading notes about *The Great Gatsby* and complaining about our teacher’s obsession with symbolism. It’s easy. Harmless. But Shauna notices.
One day, Mari’s waiting for me outside the library, holding two coffees. “Thought you could use this,” she says, smiling shyly. I’m about to thank her when Shauna appears, like she’s been summoned from thin air.
“She’s allergic to dairy,” Shauna says, plucking the coffee from my hand and dumping it in the trash. Mari blinks, confused.
“I’m not—”
“You are,” Shauna cuts me off, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Come on. Jackie’s waiting.”
Mari tries to protest, but Shauna’s already steering me away, her hand on the small of my back like she’s claiming territory. I glance back, mouthing an apology, but Mari’s already gone, her shoulders slumped.
“What the hell, Shauna?” I hiss once we’re out of earshot.
“She was flirting with you.”
“She was being nice.”
“Same thing.” She doesn’t look at me. “You don’t need her.”
I want to argue, but the way she says it, like it’s a fact, like I’m hers to protect, stops me cold. Because it’s not just possessiveness. It’s fear. Raw, aching fear that I might slip through her fingers.
It builds and builds. At parties, she’s a shadow. If anyone gets too close, she’s there, cutting them off with a glare or a sharp comment. If I dance with someone, she watches from the sidelines, arms crossed, until I feel her eyes on me and excuse myself. If I mention a crush, she changes the subject so fast I get whiplash. She’s not subtle anymore. She’s a storm, and I’m the eye.
The worst is the night of the winter formal. I’m not even going with anyone, just with Jackie and Shauna, but some guy from the debate team, Eli, asks me to dance. He’s sweet, nervous, keeps stepping on my toes. I’m laughing, trying to guide him through the steps, when I feel it again, that shift in the air. Shauna’s watching from the edge of the gym, her dress shimmering under the lights, her expression unreadable.
Eli’s saying something about the DJ’s playlist when Shauna cuts in. Literally. She steps between us, her hand on my waist, and spins me away so smoothly Eli’s left standing there, bewildered.
“Shauna—”
“My turn,” she says, and it’s not a request.
We dance in silence for a minute, her hand firm on my hip, the other clutching mine like she’s afraid I’ll vanish. The song’s slow, some sappy ballad, and I can feel her heartbeat through her dress. Fast. Too fast.
“You can’t keep doing this,” I say quietly.
“Doing what?”
“Scaring everyone away. Acting like I’m yours.”
She stiffens. “You are.”
The words hang between us, heavy and dangerous. I pull back, searching her face. “What?”
She doesn’t repeat it. Just looks at me, eyes dark and stormy, like she’s daring me to call her bluff. But it’s not a bluff. I know it’s not.
“Shauna,” I say, softer now. “Talk to me.”
She shakes her head, stepping back. “Forget it.”
But I can’t. I don’t.
Later, we’re in her car, Jackie passed out in the backseat after too many spiked punch cups. The windows are fogged, the radio humming low. Shauna’s staring straight ahead, hands gripping the wheel even though we’re parked.
“I don’t want you with anyone else,” she says finally, so quiet I almost miss it.
My heart’s in my throat. “Why?”
“Because.” She turns to me, and for the first time, she doesn’t look away. “Because it’s always been us. You, me, Jackie. And I can’t—” Her voice cracks. “I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t get it.” She laughs, bitter. “Every time someone looks at you, I want to scream. Every time you smile at them, I want to break something. I hate it. I hate how much I—” She stops, swallowing hard.
“How much you what?”
She doesn’t answer. Just reaches for my hand, threading our fingers together like she’s done a hundred times before. But this time, it’s different. This time, her grip is desperate.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say.
“You say that now.”
“I mean it.”
She looks at me then, really looks, and I see it all: the fear, the longing, the love she’s been choking down for years. She’s terrified I’ll choose someone else. Terrified I’ll see her and walk away.
I lean in, slow enough that she could stop me. She doesn’t. Our foreheads touch, her breath warm against my lips.
“I’m yours,” I whisper.
Her eyes flutter shut. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours, Shauna. Always have been.”
She kisses me then, fierce and possessive, like she’s been holding it in since we were six years old. Like she’s claiming what’s hers. And maybe she is.
When we pull apart, she’s crying, but she’s smiling too. “No one else,” she says. “Promise me.”
“No one else,” I echo.
She believes me. For now.
But Shauna Shipman doesn’t share. And God help anyone who tries to take me from her.
---
Authors note:
Helloooo to the people of tumblr, this is the first fic i've ever written, so please dont judge too harshly.
Please send req's if you want me to keep writing 🩷
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ | silver springs - jackie taylor x f!reader
synopsis: you regretted not saving jackie that night; it was one of your biggest regrets. but jackie was still there, just not in the way that you expected.
warnings: death, grief, hallucinations, jackie IS dead, rip to a real one, mentions of cannibalism, angst, this isn’t really like romantic but it’s kinda implied that jackie and reader had something going on iykwim, jackie haunts you lol bozo, takes place in 3x10, i’m new to the yellowjackets fandom and this is my first time writing for them, pls be nice i’m sensitive :(
1.8k words
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When you had seen Shauna cling to a frozen body outside the cabin, you knew what had happened. You knew that Jackie should’ve gone inside, you knew you should’ve told her to quit it and get back in the cabin the second it started snowing.
Then, when Tai had caught Shauna playing with Jackie’s corpse like a doll, seeing the sight of Jackie’s body being covered in makeup and somehow with her ear missing, made you feel sick. But nothing could make you feel sicker than the others devouring her body like ravaged animals when her corpse was burned - you had stood there with Coach Ben as they reduced her into a mere pile of bones.
You were horrified, and you briefly considered running away with Coach Ben. But for some reason, you felt like you had to stay - but you kept your promise to Coach Ben that you wouldn’t end up like them, not for a long shot.
In exchange, he didn’t say anything about how close you were to abandoning them, and you had done your best to defend him when Shauna practically demanded they put the poor man to death.
You and Nat had done your best to keep him safe in some way, and when Natalie had done the deed for everyone for his sake, you were the only one who agreed with it. In some way, seeing your former coach in that much pain reminded you of Jackie.
It reminded you of how you failed her and how you now failed your coach in saving their lives. Instead of Ben’s head on that stump later that night, you saw Jackie’s instead for some reason. That was when it had started.
You didn’t know why, as for the last year you hadn’t experienced it, but suddenly Jackie was everywhere.
When you were helping the now-demoted Nat skin an animal for dinner one day, you could hear her calling out to you. You had rapidly turned around, eyes wide with want and fear.
“Hey,” Nat said, shaking your shoulder. “Focus, champ.”
“Sorry,” You said, your head downcast. “I thought…I thought I heard something.”
You didn’t tell Nat what you heard, you knew she’d think you were crazy - just like Lottie was, just like how everyone was falling into. Insanity.
This continued for a few more days. You kept hearing Jackie, and then Laura Lee, and then Coach, and you thought you were going insane. You could’ve sworn you saw Jackie at camp when you were chopping wood one day. You almost cut your thumb off from fright and had to have Mari bandage your finger with whatever she could find.
And then, Akilah’s animals had suddenly died. At the sight of the dead animals and Akilah’s tears, Shauna had called for another ‘hunt’ for food. You knew what that meant. You guys had to kill another one of your friends and teammates to eat in the harsh winter. To survive.
You had a feeling that something was going to happen, and just like you suspected, you had pulled it after Shauna insisted that she go before you.
When you looked at the card, your face showed no emotion before showing it to the group. Van had looked distraught at the result, like you weren’t meant to be the one to get it. But Shauna, who seemed to have held some sort of dislike for you since you had defended Natalie and opposed her becoming the queen, had seemingly smirked.
But you also wouldn’t be surprised if Shauna had some sort of dislike for you for even longer.
“Tough break, champ.” She said, already moving towards you and taking off Jackie’s heart necklace.
You didn’t say anything as you shrugged off your fur covering, revealing your colorful parka, and let Shauna put the necklace on you. Part of you wanted to protest, to demand a redraw, yell out that you had thought that this was rigged.
But the other part of you knew that it wouldn’t work. Shauna practically had the rest of the team in a death grip with fear and intimidation. You watch as Shauna pulls out a knife, a vicious smile on her face as she begins to count down. Before you knew what you were doing, you jumped for the knife, and you had it in your grasp for a few moments before Shauna managed to grab you and throw you to the ground.
Mari and Hannah managed to help you up as Lottie began to count, and you noticed that Shauna started looking even more excited as Lottie kept counting up and up…and up.
“You deserve everything that’s coming to you, Shipman!” You shouted, thrusting yourself out of Mari and Hannah’s arms, and began running.
You knew you had no choice but to run; that was all you could do. If you could get them off your trail, somehow, in some rare instance, lead them into a path of someone unlucky enough to cross them. You’d be safe, you’d find rescue on your own.
As you ran for your life, you could hear the rest of the team making animal noises, cawing, howling, clearly looking for you.
Those noises were the only reason you kept running, even as they seemed to fade away, your breathing being the only thing you could hear. Jackie’s necklace dangled on your neck like a lifeline, like she was trying to protect you in some way or another, even after what you had done.
But no matter what you felt, you just kept running.
Eventually, you hold onto your parka, breathing heavily as you look around. You were tempted to take it off, to throw the others off your trail, and you could blend into the snow more easily. You would be able to hide yourself in the snow, and your dress would help.
Ultimately, that’s what you decided to do.
You struggled to take it off at first, but eventually managed to throw it off your body and onto the snowy ground. Then, you took off your boots and your sweats, your breathing hitching for a split second as the cold air hit your bare skin. For a moment, you consider running again before picking up the parka.
“They’re coming.”
You gasp as you hear the voice, turning to see the girl who had been haunting you for weeks now. Jackie Taylor.
“What’re you doing here?” You gasped out, your voice full of fear. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“And you’re wearing my necklace,” Jackie said, her voice full of that sarcasm that you had always loved. “What? I thought we were telling each other the obvious?”
You looked down to see the heart necklace still dangling on your neck, and you grabbed it, holding it out. “Take it then,”
But Jackie made no moves to grab it. You shake your head to realize that she obviously couldn’t take it; she was dead for fuck’s sakes. You sighed as you let the necklace fall back against your chest, looking at the ghostly figure in front of you.
“Why are you here?” You finally managed to ask, looking behind you to make sure that the others hadn’t found you yet. “Are you just…here to taunt me?”
“I’m here to tell you to keep running,” Jackie said, her voice wavering. “If you keep standing here, they’ll get you. You don’t want to be dinner, surely? Not like I was. Nor do I want you to be like that.”
Before you could walk towards Jackie, she was gone, just like that. Then, you heard a howl, and you threw your parka onto a branch and ran for it again, your breathing heavy as you feared for your life. You could hear Jackie’s voice as you kept running, telling you to keep running, to not be like her.
It was somehow Jackie who comforted you as you continued to run. She was your last grasp for hope, even now, even after death.
“Death isn’t so bad,” Jackie’s voice ran out as you stopped again, feeling the walls trap in on you. You felt like you had run everywhere, and you had no idea where you even were. “It's like…a sweet relief, it’s quicker than falling asleep in a way, I guess.”
Jackie’s words hit you, your eyes wide as you looked down at the snowy ground. This was how it was supposed to be. You were always supposed to die. You were meant never to make it.
At that realization, you couldn’t help but begin to cry. You hold onto yourself as you sob, realizing that this was going to be your fate. You couldn’t help but wonder if Jackie had that same realization, as you could’ve sworn you felt an embrace come behind you. It wasn’t one of the girls or Travis, but it was a warm touch as if welcoming you in some way into death while trying to comfort you.
But, even then, you felt determined to still run for it, and when you felt the warm embrace go away, you began to run for it again, only to fall into a branch and feel something scratch against your foot. You groan in pain as you push yourself up, now limping as you run.
“Stop!” You could hear Jackie call out as you kept running. “Hey, come on! Stop, please!”
But you couldn’t stop yourself; for some reason, you could just feel yourself being able to get out of here. You could’ve sworn you could find a clearing. Back to society, back to get help for everyone else.
You were going to make it out of here.
“Jackie…I’m almost there…” You managed to say, seeing the light of the clearing. “I can get help for everyone else…they don’t need to get any food!”
Then, just as you stopped running, you began to walk to it instead. You found yourself so close to rescue, so close to freedom, so close to helping everyone be free.
As you walked, Jackie stood behind you, knowing that this was it for you. You were seeing the thing that you wanted, just like what she wanted when she had…but instead of stopping you, she decided to let you believe it.
At long last, the two of you would be reunited. The one thing that both of you had wanted since she died.
She let herself have a small smile as you kept walking, and she followed you as you kept going.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” She said quietly. “You’re…you’re almost there.”
Just as Jackie finished those words, she heard your scream as you fell into the pit. She walked over to the edge of it and couldn’t help but tear up at the sight, but she bent down and held out her hand to your mangled body.
Your final face was full of fear, despite how excited you felt at seeing the ‘clearing’ in your head. When really, all you had seen was a light coming to collect you at long last. Jackie felt your now warm hand grab onto hers, and she couldn’t help but smile despite the circumstances.
The two of you were finally together again. This time, you would be together forever.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ jackie taylor taglist: @roses-tired, @emdure, @heartcresta
jackie taylor is the captain of wiskayok high’s soccer team, the yellowjackets. natalie scatorccio plays guitar in the school’s local band, remembering sunday. at one of lottie matthews’ iconic parties, remembering sunday plays a few songs.
or
jackie taylor has a mission. she cannot stop thinking about the girl with the shaggy mullet, smudged eyeliner, and beat up doc martens. she has to know her.
or
jackie taylor schemes to get natalie scatorccio on the soccer team with the help of her teammates.
─ timestamps don’t matter. established taivan.─
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A/N: so sorry for going mia guys! life got so hectic so fast, but i missed you and i missed jackienat! cannot believe we only have one part left….
