#lost and found batch

[skellymom]

"LOST AND FOUND"

The BAD BATCH x READER (NO gender) Fan Fic

(Put YOURSELF into this story!)

The Batch are lost and land on EARTH!

NO WARNING: ALL AGES, some mild flirting with Hunter.

Word count: 3K

“Place is all clear.”  Echo reported as Hunter approached the large old farmhouse.  “Wrecker and Tech swept the residence.” 

“About time we found a shelter with food.”  Hunter nodded to his brother quietly following behind.  “Crosshair’s gonna disappear soon.” 

“I HEARD that.” Cross snarked as he led Omega along by the hand. 

Hunter chuckled under his breath. 

The Batch had parked the Marauder in a densely forested greenspace under the cover of darkness as the sun rose in the east.  So far, the inhabitants of the unknown planet hadn’t noticed a strange ship descend into the atmosphere and land. 

They had embarked on a mission outside their known galaxy, and the rarely used hyperspace lane spit them out somewhere Tech hadn’t expected.  After some backtracking, his calculations were off by one decimal point. 

And one decimal point got them completely LOST. 

The oddly random interstellar electrical anomaly might have contributed as well... 

There was PLENTY of whining and complaining aboard the Marauder...except for Omega.  

 She was hoping for an ADVENTURE! 

Omega squeezed Crosshair’s hand as she smiled up at him.  He squeezed back and she caught the tiniest upturn of his lips at her reassuring gesture.   Cross continued to chew aggressively at the toothpick in his mouth, SO HUNGRY he considered eating it at one point. 

Hunter, Crosshair, and Omega followed Echo across the backyard, onto the back patio, and through the sliding glass door of the house.  They entered a large open concept kitchen and dining room.  The place was clean and inviting... 

Like coming HOME. 

“WE LUCKED OUT!”  Wrecker excitedly greeted them.  “ENOUGH ROOM FOR ALL OF US!!!” 

“Attempting to unearth the name of this planet and it’s system...”  Tech’s fingers danced over his datapad with no success.  “At least we’ll have refreshment and accommodations for the night.” 

Wrecker IMMEDIATELY made a beeline for the fridge.  Omega let go of Crosshair and wandered over to kitchen’s pantry. 

Echo perused the kitchen counters and found EXACTLY what he was looking for.  He whipped the home-made quilted cozy off a coffee maker. 

“Ahhh!”  smiling and catching the scent of fresh beans already loaded into the top.  “Haven’t met who owns this house, but I like them already!!!” 

Omega grabbed a HUGE box of crackers and immediately brought them back to Crosshair.  He sat down at the kitchen table, slightly weak from hunger.  She pulled out a handful and they both snacked voraciously. 

Hunter chose to stand and take in EVERYTHING. 

Something seemed off. 

NOBODY was paying attention...they were FAMISHED and TIRED of course.  He couldn’t fault them for that... 

Single-mindedly Echo hit the START button on the coffeemaker.  It came to life LOUDLY grinding the beans for a FULL 5 minutes...an ETERNITY to Hunter. 

Tech tap-tapping away...trying to correct his decimal error and find intel. 

Wrecker loudly naming EVERYTHING he saw in the fridge, then tucking it under his strong arms to bring to the table... 

“You swept the WHOLE house?”  Hunter inquired. 

“That’s what Tech reported.”  Echo quirking an eye at Tech while watching the fresh caf descend into the glass carafe. 

Tech glanced up from his datapad and deadpan stared back at Echo.  Then his eyes ROLLED as Tech slowly turned toward Wrecker sassing “You DID sweep THE WHOLE HOUSE as directed, did you not?” 

Wrecker pivoted to fully face Tech, both arms comically CRAMMED with food and sassed back.  “YEAH.  What of it???” 

Hunter slowly and quietly took Omega’s hand leading her behind him.  She tucked the full cracker box under her arm to keep.  “Did you check the BASEMENT???”  He rumbled quietly. 

Wrecker’s eyes went wide realizing his mistake “Oops...” 

“Someone’s coming up the stairs.” Hunter warned. 

Tech’s eyes bugged out. 

Echo spun around and waited on Hunter’s order. 

Wrecker froze in place, holding onto the food like a lifeline. 

Crosshair crammed the handful of crackers he had left into his mouth, rose from the table and went for his rifle. 

Hunter put his hand on Cross’s arm “Let’s SEE how we’re received.”  He advised “We’re in THIER home without permission.” 

The Batchers quieted and listened to the slow ascending steps of WHOMEVER was coming up from the basement... 

A door opened. 

Then closed. 

Someone shuffled down the hall towards the kitchen. 

They heard a loud yawn. 

Hunter heard the person scratch their bum. 

A very disheveled human rounded the corner rubbing their eyes.  Hair extremely messy dressed in sweats and fuzzy animal slippers. 

“Oh man...thought y’all were gonna come back next week...”  They yawned loudly again, stretching with eyes closed.  

The front of their sweatshirt rose up with the stretch.  A skull tattoo peeked out from their hip to disappear again as both arms dropped... 

Eyes opening...”OH!” 

EVERYONE in the room stared at the homeowner. 

The homeowner scanned the room, taking in each person standing IN THEIR KITCHEN! 

“Uh...hello?”  The person seemed really unimpressed.  “Thought you were my roommates.” 

“We meant no harm.  Thought the place was empty.”  Hunter put both hands palm up to placate.  “We’ll just be going.” 

The homeowner noticed Omega hugging the box of crackers while hiding behind Hunter, Crosshair’s skinny frame, Wrecker’s arms FULL of food.  Echo next to the coffee machine he had turned on to brew... 

And Tech just standing there staring. 

They clearly carried guns and knives.  But NOBODY was reaching for their weapons...well, almost nobody.  The long-haired guy seemed to speak for everyone else while holding the HANGRY skinny guy at bay. 

Had they meant to steal valuables, they would have left as there were none.  Had they meant to kill anyone, they would have done so already. 

Plus, they had a CHILD with them. 

This group of people were literally starving.  How could the homeowner turn them away? 

A packaged ham dropped out of Wreckers arms and clattered loudly onto the floor. 

Everyone stood still, the tension in the room palpable. 

The homeowner shrugged and smoothed their messy hair down.  “Eh, y’all can stay.  Was gettin’ lonely without the roomies here anyway.” 

The Batch glanced at each other in dismay. 

The homeowner picked up the ham, set it the counter, and motioned to Echo.  “Since you started ‘er up, the mugs are in the cupboard above the coffeemaker.  I’ll take some coffee in the purple moon mug.  Half coffee, half creamer, LOTS of sugar.” 

Echo chuckled as he opened the cupboard “Thought I’d like you.” 

The homeowner grinned and turned to Wrecker “Go have a seat and eat hon, your arms are gonna fall asleep.” 

Wrecker nodded and shambled over to the dining table. 

They nodded to Tech “You too and everyone else.  Get comfy.” 

“Much thanks for your hospitality.” he nodded. 

“Ooh...MR FANCYPANTS.  I could get used to that!” 

Crosshair spoke before Hunter could “You’re...LETTING US STAY?” 

“Lookie there...it speaks.”  The homeowner chuckled as they walked over to the large table.  “Hey, BIG GUY give SKINNYBONES a sandwich.” 

Wrecker obediently handed one over to Crosshair who snatched it out of his hand.  Cross greedily unwrapped the sandwich and bit into it suspiciously. 

Echo brought heaping mugs of caf to the table, handing them out. 

“Thanks, COFFEEDUDE” The homeowner gulped from the heaping cup.  “Perfect.  You’re hired.” and giggled. 

“You and I take our cafe the EXACT same way.”  He winked. 

Hunter pulled out a chair for the homeowner. 

They stopped, stared at Hunter “Y’all are TOO GOOD to have just broken into my house on a whim.  Did the roommates put you up to this?” 

Hunter sensed an infodump incoming...and was unable to stop it. 

“We embarked on a mission to an off-galaxy planet, entered hyperspace and found ourselves with no option but to land upon your planet.  Our rations being low... 

“TECH...”  Hunter growled. 

“Well...the cat is out of the bag currently...”  Tech trailed off. 

Wrecker and Omega watched the interaction while eating.  Crosshair yoinked another sandwich out from the food pile on the table. 

“Let’s be honest, Hunter” Echo swallowed the warm brew “We’re out of options.” 

The homeowner laughed out loud “You can drop the act.  Who put y’all up to this?” 

Hunter gently led the homeowner to the back sliding glass door, pulled out the scope from his pack and held it up to see through. 

The homeowner eyed Hunter skeptically, then glanced into them. 

“If you look past your property...under those trees...”  He adjusted the scope “Can partially see our ship.” 

The sunrise provided enough light for the scope to enhance the homeowner's vision. Whatever was under that thick canopy of trees was VERY REAL. 

The coffee mug slipped from their hand.   Hunter caught it before it broke on the tiled floor. 

“OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD...”  Shock, dismay...” You’re...ALIENS???” 

“Well...technically...” Tech chimed in, index finger up “we are interstellar humans who have become lost in a...” he squinted at his datapad “possible time-space continuum from another galaxy long ago far, far away.” 

“Wut...?”  More shock. 

“I... struggle to explain it ANY CLEARER.”  Tech added. 

“Have a seat, this is A LOT.”  Hunter steered the homeowner to a chair, where they plopped down heavily.  He went to refill their cup of caf. 

“WE’RE LOST, HUNGRY, AND HOMELESS.”  Wrecker blurted out, then pulled the cling wrap off a bowl of salad, reached in, and stuffed the contents of his fist into his mouth. 

“Straight to the point, Wrecker.”  Crosshair shoved his arm into the cracker box Omega had in her hand. 

Echo got up and rifled through the pantry, came back, and set down a bottle of rum on the table in front of the homeowner.  “This might help.” 

Hunter returned, sighed as his efforts were thwarted and set the caf mug down next to the bottle, then returned to his seat. 

Omega uncapped the bottle of rum and poured a shot into the caf cup. 

Hunter almost missed this until he sat down “WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOUNG LADY???” 

Omega shrugged “I see Crosshair and Echo do it ALL THE TIME.”  She sassed.  “They call it their medicine.” 

“Gimme that!”  He leaned over the table and yanked it out of her hand.  Then took a swig and capped it. 

The homeowner knocked back the coffee-rum in several swigs, slammed the mug down, and slid it over to Hunter. “Hit me again.  Gonna need more to fully process this...” 

Omega harrumphed, got up and stalked over to the pantry.  She came back with several juice drink boxes, dropped them onto the table announcing with angst “I’m drinking early too!” 

“So...do you abduct people and...anal probe them?”  The homeowner addressed Tech.  

“I BEG YOUR PARDON???”  Tech seemed VERY offended. 

Wrecker stopped chewing and the rest of the Batch stared in horror. 

“You know.  Like those long tall aliens with big eyes?”  The homeowner inquired. 

“The...Kaminoans?”  Echo blurted out. 

“Uh, sure...we call them Alien Greys here on Earth.” 

Crosshair snickered “Eh...wouldn’t be surprised if they buggered people for...science...total freaks.” 

“You mean instead of for FUN.” Echo joked. 

“Well, at least THAT’s consensual.”  Cross shot back with a slight grin. 

“Your planet is named Earth?”  Tech rolled his eyes.  “That’s NOT very imaginative.” 

“Well...MR FANCYPANTS you’ll love we named our moon The Moon and our sun The Sun.  All the other heavenly bodies have much more interesting names.” 

“My name is NOT MR FANCYPANTS.  It is Tech.”  He sniffed. 

“Ok...Tech...” 

“I’m Omega!”  Omega took over the conversation while sipping the drink box.  “This is Echo, Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair.” 

“Helloo everyone...you’re a little firecracker, aren’t ya, kiddo?”  The homeowner grinned. 

Omega grinned back.  “What’s your name?” 

“Y/N” 

“HELLO!”  Wrecker thundered, then went back to stuffing his face. 

“Omega’s been quite sassy since...”  Hunter leaned back in his chair, crossing arms over his chest while staring a hole through Crosshair “SOMEONE’s been back with our family.” 

“You’re ALL related???” 

“We are all clones of a Mandalorian bounty hunter who sold his DNA to The Kaminoans to produce millions of clone troopers for The Grand Army of The Republic.”  Tech spouted while tapping away at his datapad.  “Since the fall of The Republic and rise of The Empire, we defected and are on our own, losing contact with most of our brethren...” 

“Oh...ok.”  Y/N grabbed the bottle of rum, uncorked, drinking it straight without coffee. 

“Might want to pace yourself...” Hunter warned. 

“Let them be, Hunter.”  Cross poked his brother. 

“Yeah...”  Y/N swigged again.  “All this was a bit more than I was expecting today...” 

There was a loud scratching at the sliding glass door... 

A large blue animal pressed it’s face against the sliding door, teeth bared in a silly grin, tongue out, leaving a large streak of saliva upon the glass. 

“Uh...we have a dog too...” Hunter mumbled. 

“Of course you do...”  Y/N stared at the strange looking thing. 

 Crosshair leaned back in his chair, opening the sliding glass door.  The blue “dog” bounded into the kitchen, booping Y/N with her nose as she ran by.  Then made a beeline for Wrecker where she begged for food. 

“That’s Batcher.” Omega added while chewing.  Her little legs swinging back and forth while she sat. 

Y/N CHUGGED several large mouthfuls of rum, then set the bottle down on the table.  The alcohol gave them a rosy glow. 

Crosshair grabbed the bottle, uncorked it, sniffed, shrugged, then drained the remaining couple of sips. 

“Well...I’mma gonna need a bit more time to process this...”  Y/N’s hand swept around the room to indicate EVERYTHING.  “Gonna go lay down now...” 

They got up from the table, swooned, nearly falling over. 

Echo quickly grabbed Y/N “Woah there...” and steadied them.  “Where do you need to rest?” 

“Basement...Can’t believe Imma cook dinner for SPACE ALIENS...” Y/N wondered fantastically out loud. 

“We are human clones NOT space aliens...” Tech corrected. 

“Just...” Echo putting a hand on Tech’s shoulder, advising him “Ignore that.  They’ll come around...eventually.” 

Hunter got up, make his way around the table and took Y/N from Echo. 

“Don’t eat THAT HAM!”  Y/N pointed to the thawing package...still sitting on the counter as Hunter led them down the hallway.  “THAT’S DINNER!!!” 

“OK!”  Wrecker answered.  “Batcher, NO!”  The rest of The Batch’s voices could be heard as Y/N and Hunter reached the basement door. 

Echo intervened.  Thud of the refrigerator door closing as he placed the ham in it for safe keeping.  Tech discussing side dishes with Crosshair.  Wrecker and Omega requesting dessert... 

Hunter’s silly grin as he clearly listened to all this while assisting Y/N... 

“You’re the eldest, huh?  The responsible one???” 

“Oh...”  Hunter chuckled.  “Maybe.  Well...mostly.” 

“Me too.” Y/N sighed.  “Hard job.  Not been very rewarding...hell, mostly heartbreak in my family...” 

“Sorry to hear that.  But I understand.  Not all sunshine and rainbows for me, either.” 

“They have those on your planet?” 

“Yep.  My home planet looked a lot like the ocean off the coast of your continent.  Very stormy.  The sunshine and rainbows were VERY rare for us.” Hunter carefully helped Y/N down the stairs. “Few times they appeared I treasured their beauty in the moment...never knowing if or when I’d see them again.” 

Y/N and Hunter shared a bittersweet moment as their feet took the last step onto a plush rug covering a concrete floor.  The basement an unfinished cinderblock construction, however, Y/N had hung tapestries and patterned curtains over the cold white painted concrete.  Warm wooden furnishings with plump comfy pillows formed a sitting room.  Bookcases containing books mixed w/whimsical keepsakes cordoned off the sitting room, containing a work desk, computer, artist’s easel with paints, and small dry kitchen with mini fridge.  Cordoned off again with fancy paneled screens sat a queen-sized bed. 

“What made you decide to reside down here?” Hunter queried 

“It’s quiet, cool, dark...private.”  Y/N went to sit and bounced onto the bed, falling back onto it.  “Not so overwhelming.” 

“Smart.  Nice place you’ve put together.” 

“You...” Y/N teased “Get overwhelmed a lot too, huh?” 

“Perceptive” 

“You’re welcomed to crash down here on the couch.  Your brothers and sister can take the roommates beds on the first and second floors.  Also have the couch upstairs...and possibly an air mattress...”  Y/N motioned with their hand.  “Someplace...” 

“We don’t want to impose...” 

“Oh no...y’all are QUITE welcome to stay here.  Honestly...”  The homeowner trailed off.  “The roomies will be back next week for their stuff.  Relocating to another state for work.”  Y/N sighed heavily. 

“That’s VERY kind of you.”  Hunter replied appreciatively.  “To open up your home to us...and notice my...sensitivity.” 

Y/N blushed and grinned. 

“’Mi casa es su casa’ My home is your home.  But if you all stay over a week, your names go on the lease.  There will be...responsibilities.  Everyone pulls their weight...you get me?” 

“Loud and clear.”  Hunter smiled broadly, winking. 

“Are you...no...”  Y/N shook their head, then stared back at Hunter “...flirting with me??? Or is it the rum?” 

“Well...”  Hunter chuckled.  “Who has the better chance?  Me or the rum?” 

“OOOOhhhh, a friendly AND handsome space alien.”  Y/N snorted  

“So... I MIGHT still have a chance.”  Hunter joked. 

“Take me for a spin in that spaceship, show me how beautiful my planet is at night with all the cities lit up...and what stars look like from space...might just marry you...” 

Hunter giggled and blushed.  “Let’s not get too carried away." 

“Too late...I’m tipsy...” Y/N getting sleepy. 

Hunter covered them up.  “Relax and sleep it off.” 

“I’m gonna wake up and this will all be a dream...or you guys will just make off with all my furniture...” 

“We’re real” Hunter chuckled “You can trust us...promise.” 

Y/N sighed and dropped off to sleep. 

Hunter squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, ascended the stairs, making his way back to the kitchen. 

Tech had a cookbook in his hands.  Wrecker stood behind him discussing the recipe. 

Echo busied himself by cleaning out the coffee maker and dutifully setting it up for the next morning. 

Crosshair and Omega pulled ingredients out from the pantry, setting them on the kitchen island. 

Batcher curled up and snoring under the dining table. 

“Looks like they approved our stay, lads and young lady.”  Hunter announced.  “At least for a week.  Past that...well, we may have to sign the lease and earn our keep.” 

“OH YEAH!” Wrecker pumped the air with his fists while Omega jumped up and down with glee, ran to Hunter and hugged his leg.  He tousled her hair. 

“That is fortuitous” Tech quipped “and will give me the opportunity to plot the correct coordinates for our galaxy.” 

“Going to need more alcohol.” Crosshair dryly added. 

“YOU need to eat more, not drink...” Hunter ordered. 

“NOT for me, Hunter” Cross shot back “Our host.  We all tend to be rather...EXTRA in a group setting.  Possibly some for YOU too...due to that fact.” 

Hunter smiled at his brother.  Cross inserted a fresh toothpick into his mouth and slyly smiled back. 

“We’ll work it out.” Echo reassured them.  “Be nice to stay here where it’s quiet and we have enough space for all of us.” 

“Gonna cook that ham and surprise Y/N as a thank you!”  Wrecker beamed. 

“Just...”  Hunter joked “Don’t set fire to the kitchen...ok?” 

Beneath their feet Y/N slept soundly...never suspecting the shenanigans they would all get up to in the future... 

Would you like to see more installments of this story where The Bad Batch try to fit in on Earth? PLEASE message me with any story requests! THANKS!!!

Please let me know if you wanted to be added to my taglist or removed! Thanks so much for your support!!!

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[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Clone Force 99 | Bad Batch & CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives Characters: CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CT-9901 | Hunter, CT-9902 | Tech, CT-9903 | Wrecker Additional Tags: The bad Batch Appreciation Week 2024, tbbaw2024, tbb appreciation week 2024, polybatch, Cloneshipping | Clone Trooper/Clone Trooper Relationships (Star Wars), Emotions and Feelings, Rescue Mission, Post TBB S3, au/what if Series: Part 13 of The Bad Batch Appreciation Week, Part 23 of The Poly Batch/The Poly Conglomerate Summary:

The team finds Fives. After all this time, the missing heart of Echo’s is found. Frozen in time and space having waited for the rescue for so long and now finally there.



@tbb-appreciation-week​

[pennyserenade]

my relationship with my mother has always been complicated so of course i cried when she searched endlessly for a sugar cookie recipe that i loved three years ago and made them for me AND dropped them off AND was so excited to see how happy id be about it all

[zipmode]

📻 + romea orrrr conviction 👍dealer's choice

ALAS Romea is a bit too young to have a playlist yet but im working on it trust. trust. FOR CONVICTION however I give youuuu UGLY NEEDS by Miniature Tigers!

in particular the first verse I connect to Conviction's feelings about their wild magic and also about their Everything. Mr. Repressed.

[eobe]

🤩✨ Taaaaaahny, happy you could make it, even if not looking convinced – but looking gorgeous as always 🥂✨And also wow to Kahtzi, rocking the pink cyber goth style! 🖤🩷 I see some troopers drooling at you both 😁🤷🏽‍♀️ Call the Commanders if they get too bold, bbs! 😘

Hot art with your glowing color style, my dear Nix 🌹🤩✨

Tahny "I forgot to put clothes on" Ra usually avoids the "Narc Bar" like the plauge, but who is she to let down her friends. Kahtzi is thrilled. She's wanted to come here since it opened.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

@ghostymarni (❤️ look what you've done) @eobe @lonewolflupe @feral-ferrule @vimse

[syntheticsymp]

tw: smut

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley only has one ball.

The other he had lost in some mission or other. He honestly couldn’t remember which. Every mission came with a fresh new batch of scars and missing flesh.

He never really felt self conscious about it. The one night stands he picked up didn’t seem to mind. In the moment, they had much bigger issues to think about.

But then Simon met you. His precious little bird. He settled down as much as he could, and for the first time in his life, he considered truly living. The transition to this mindset was slow and came with a plethora of thoughts. Most prominently, doubt.

The thick, hot spurts of cum he dumped deep inside you painted your walls, his juices combining with your own. By some miracle, you had convinced him to try for a kid. You had promised you wouldn’t let him become like his father. Though, he mainly agreed just so you’d have to rely on him for nine months.

Simon was silent as he fucked you, keeping you pinned beneath him. The only noise in the room was a harmony of your moans, which he ensured by keeping his fingers shoved in your mouth, and the sound of his ball slapping against that sweet spot by your clit.

It didn’t matter if the task force’s medic said he had a lower chance of fertility. If you wanted a baby, he would give you one. He’d give you the whole world, if you asked.

He came inside you over and over until you had lost count. Simon was not a man who did things half-assed. Being an operative for so long had taught him the importance of endurance.

His breaths came out in labored pants, looking just as half-dead as you. Exhausted was the nice way to describe the matching expression the two of you wore. Even Simon couldn’t continue. While he was young, his energy wasn’t limitless.

Pulling your sleepy body into his arms, he pulled the covers over the two of you. He pressed his thick fingers into your cunt, just to ensure the seed he had so carefully dumped inside you wouldn’t spill out during the night, earning him a small whimper from your lips.

It was Heaven. The broken soldier had found his own little Angel.

“Get some sleep,” he grumbled into your ear.

You didn't have to be told twice. Your breathing slowed, turning rhythmic.

Simon, however, stayed awake a moment longer.

There was something still vying for his attention.

The little green jar on his shelf, one of the only objects in your joint home that he had bothered to bring with him, contained his lost ball. Floating there, mocking him.

Oh, he would show you.

He would keep fucking you until your next pregnancy test came back with those two sweet little lines. Having a family meant you’d stay with him. It meant you were his.

And damn, if he didn’t like the sound of that.

[sunseed-fandump]

The Witch must have been crazy to have made such a Bad Batch of cookies...

(Sorry it's not any of my other AU content, but this was an idea I just really wanted to get out of my head.)

More Info under the cut!

The kids are EEEEEVIL!!!!

Wizard is in his Azure Flame costume from ovenbreak. Strawberry is Wild Strawberry from Twizzly Gummy’s Crew. Gingerbrave is emo a zombie, kinda.

In this timeline, Wizard’s need for power in order to survive quickly turned into a lust for it. He craves it, and is under the thrall of the Azure Flame Staff which whispers to him. He is convinced that only the strong will survive, and those without power are worthless. He is terrified of being powerless as a result. He remembers what it’s like to be helpless, and never wants to feel that way again. His prickly and reclusive attitude is a result of trying not to get attached (because attachments are a weakness) yet he can’t help but have a small fondness for Gingerbrave and Strawberry, as they’re one of the few cookies who understand what it’s like to hit rock bottom.

Strawberry was deeply traumatized when she saw her witch eat a cookie before her eyes. When she tried to warn others of what she had seen, she was dismissed. When the Jellywalker Apocalypse began, she was once again at a major disadvantage. Too quiet, too soft, too shy. Eventually she found herself on Twizzly Gummy Cookie’s crew, and they rescued her from her original timeline but were a pretty bad influence. She learned to be ruthless, because that's what was needed to survive an apocalypse and run from the time police. This version of her isn’t afraid of speaking her mind and being heard. Twizzly’s gang fell apart due to the TBD, and she felt abandoned as a result. After being spat out into a random timeline she decided to lay low and eventually met Wizard and Gingerbrave. She’s stuck with them ever since and silently appreciates their loyalty.

This timeline’s Gingerbrave didn’t survive his escape from the oven. The Witch caught him just as he had busted open the doors and she smashed him to pieces. However, with a few icing stitches and a bit of dark magic, he was brought back to life and swore vengeance on all witches. Not too long after escaping his Witch, he recruited Wizard and Strawberry to his cause to “fix” what he perceives to be a rotten world. He does truly care for his comrades and considers them his dearest friends, as they were the first to not mistake him for a mindless undead or recoil at his habit of falling apart. He’s retained a decent sense of humor, and is still a bit ignorant when it comes to the world due to being freshly baked, however he’s a lot more closed off when it comes to strangers and not quick to think that everyone has his best interest in mind like his Canon counterpart.

The trio have looked out for one another for a while, at first things were a bit rocky between them, a loose allyship to pursue a common goal; but it’s grown into a deep loyalty towards each other.

If Wizard Cookie is separated from the Azure Flame Staff for too long he starts to experience severe withdrawal symptoms. His fear of being powerless, alongside the Staff’s thrall over him, will cause him to act desperately and get it back by any means necessary.

Wild Strawberry Cookie has seen a lot in other timelines, and as a result recognizes quite a few faces that she otherwise wouldn’t have met. She also has a stash of Time Jumpers, which allows her to dominate a battlefield as she utilizes its abilities to fast-forward and rewind herself.

Gingerbrave frequently has to redo his stitches, as they have a habit of breaking or wearing down due to the icing’s low quality. The worst ones are around his neck, which will cause his head to go flying off and getting lost. Despite the major drawbacks this causes, he can also use it to his advantage, as his individual parts are still autonomous from one another. He can also swap parts out for new ones, meaning if he loses an arm, he can take one from a fallen enemy cookie or cake monster and use that instead. He has a supply of different parts that he swaps out depending on the mission. However, he feels most comfortable with his original pieces.

While it isn’t official, Gingerbrave is considered the leader, as he keeps the group focused on their goal: to steal the Soul Jam and use them to destroy the Witches and their influence.

They actually don’t like Dark Enchantress Cookie and don’t plan to join the Cookies of Darkness. While they both have similar plans of stealing the Soul Jam and wanting to reform the world, Dark Enchantress wants to make a world that is under her control, while Gingerbrave wants to create a world of absolute free will and lawlessness.

Basically, the kids are anarchists who view Dark Enchantress and the Ancient Heroes as Tyrants.

Idk if i'll do more with this concept, but I thought it would be fun/funny considering Strawberry and Wizard both already have "evil" designs.

[sloaneispunk]

“teacher’s pet” (mdni 18+)

teacher!in-ho x you

when in-ho’s wife tragically passed, he found comfort in a certain student in his class. how far was he willing to go with a student?

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

in-ho had a perfect life. stable job, great friends and a loving wife.

he loved his wife unconditionally, they had the perfect relationship. they rarely argued, and the sex was amazing.

but his life came crumbling when he received a phone call from the hospital. his wife had gotten into a car accident.

in-ho was lost after that, for a few months he stepped down from teaching. he spent his time trying to find his happiness again. it was hard, he was stricken with grief, he thought there was nothing else for him in life.

eventually in-ho felt like he should get off his ass and do something.

he met with the principal of the school he was teaching at, wanting to get back.

he thought of it like a distraction, just something he could look forward to in the daytime.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

it was the first day of school, students were pushing and shoving to get to class.

you entered the classroom with your friends, seeing a new, unfamiliar teacher at the front of the classroom, taking your seat at the back.

“good morning class, my name is mr in-ho, i’ll be your new math teacher this semester.” the teacher announced as he turned to face the students.

“hey, he’s pretty hot.” you turned to look at your friend with your mouth hung wide open, slapping her on the arm as you both laughed.

lesson went on as per normal that first day, mr in-ho spent the hour introducing himself and getting to know everyone.

as the bell rang, signalling the end of class, everyone packed their bags frantically.

“that’s all, i’ll see everyone tomorrow.” mr in-ho said.

as the students got up to leave, a loud thud was heard from the front of the classroom.

“get up, nerd.” you heard.

you sighed, walking towards the girl who had been tripped by another student, helping her up as you glared at her bully.

“fuck off, what do you want?” you asked, taking a protective stand in front of the poor girl.

the bully said nothing, simply turning on his heel and leaving.

by now, all the students had left, leaving you, the girl, and mr in-ho behind.

“t-thank you.” the girl said, bowing her head as you frowned.

“you don’t have to thank me. he shouldn’t be doing that… are you okay?” you asked.

she then nodded, giving you an awkward smile as you scurried off.

“hey, what’s your name?” you heard a voice call out from behind you.

“oh, i didn’t realise you were still here.” you replied, seeing the new teacher behind his desk, packing his bag. “i’m y/n. y/n l/n.”

“that’s pretty.” he commented, offering you a small smile.

“thank you.” you blushed.

“that was really kind, what you did there.”

“oh, yeah, he has been really mean to many students. poor girl just didn’t have anyone looking out for her.”

“you’re a good girl, y/n.”

oh.

“t-thank you?” you chuckled nervously.

“what’s your next class? maybe i could walk you there.” mr in-ho said as the two of you stepped outside into the hallway.

“english. but i think i’ll be the one leading you.” you joked, causing him to let out a laugh.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

that night, in-ho went home feeling better than he had been the past few months. he felt like he had really connected with his new students.

they were so kind, so gentle, so sweet…

no, you were.

you were so kind, so gentle, so sweet.

the interaction he had with you kept replaying in his mind, he couldn’t think about anything or anyone else.

you reminded him of someone he used to know, and that fueled him.

the next day, he went to class as per usual. however, he didn’t take your class until noon, which meant he had to wait patiently for your class.

by 11am, he got pretty bored he had to admit. in-ho felt like he was just going through the motions, teaching the different batches of students that came in one after another.

however, when the clock striked 12, oh he was excited.

what he was excited about? he didn’t know.

he then heard a familiar laugh echoing through the halls. he turned to the door, waiting expectantly for you to come through.

the door flew open, revealing not only you to his dismay, but your group of friends surrounding you. he couldn’t make out what you were laughing about but he was incredibly intrigued.

“good afternoon.” you said cheerfully as you gave him a small wave before you took your seat.

in-ho felt a wave of flush run through him, he cleared his throat and ruffled his hair. “good afternoon, y/n.”

“oo, someone already made a move before the rest of us.” your friend teased, nudging your elbow playfully as you rolled your eyes.

time passed quickly as in-ho taught his first lesson to your class. he had found himself stealing tiny glances of you as he walked around, trying his hardest to not make it obvious.

his heart was beating so quickly he thought he could pass out.

maybe he was being delusional, or maybe even hallucinating, but he swore at times when he stole glances, you were already staring. and that made him nearly choke on his words multiple times.

after class, he stayed behind again, hoping that you would somehow approach him, striking up a conversation.

but you didn’t.

someone did approach him, but it wasn’t you. it was your friend.

“so… where did you teach before this? do you like it here? how is it like teaching our class?” she bombarded him with questions.

you took it as a sign to leave.

as you walked out, you turned for one last look. but to your surprise, you were met with the eyes of mr in-ho, as soon as he had been caught, he looked away, pretending to be interested in the conversation.

“see you tomorrow, mr in-ho.” you called out. but before he had the chance to reply, you had left.

somehow, you felt jealous. jealous that he was talking to someone like you first did. but why did it matter? he was just your teacher afterall.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

that night as he got home, in-ho dropped all his things. he practically ripped open his shirt and unbuckled his pants as fast as he could.

god, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

he thought of your soft voice and your innocent face as he started to stroke himself.

‘fuck.’ he cursed as he started to go faster, his mind racing with images of your face.

he could almost hear your voice calling his name again. he replayed your laughter over and over again like a broken record.

in-ho went to sleep that night with you and only you on his mind. he knew he was fucked.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

weeks went by and in-ho found himself getting bolder and bolder.

within a month, he moved on to not so subtle touches.

as he paced around the classroom teaching, he took your seat at the back of the classroom to his advantage. he tested waters initially, brushing against your arm as he walked by.

when you seemed okay with it, he tried to deepen the contact.

he would place a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. when you didn’t move away or seemed uncomfortable, he knew he hit the jackpot.

his touch started to linger for longer than it needed to. somehow he craved touching you more and more.

what made him more desperate was the fact that he could smell your perfume whenever he walked anywhere near you.

it messed with his head in the best way possible.

furthermore, he started to notice how his actions took a toll on you. whenever he gently touched your shoulder, you would draw your legs together. was he really turning you on?

if he had happened to see you in the hallways, he would call you by name, greeting you, even starting small conversations.

he loved how everytime he did so, you light blush would creep onto your cheeks and you would struggle to meet his gaze, looking anywhere but into his eyes.

if this continued, he didn’t know how much he could take. all the cock-teasing, the small interactions.

he wanted more.

✮⋆˙ ──── ୨୧ ──── ✮⋆˙

( bungee jumping off their own - 2001 )

[sunflowerwinds]

sugar, sugar | v.a

summary: vi has crept up into your mind and is keeping put so to try to relieve some of that bubbling crush energy, you bake her some protein muffins. after delivering them to her, she invites you to isha’s birthday party. meeting her entire family is nerve wracking but you’re welcome with open arms.

pairing: fem!reader x vi arcane

contains: modern!au, kick-boxer!vi, reader is an actual sweetheart, MY family (vander, isha, ekko, jinx, & sevika mentions), fluff and flirty tension, kind of slowburn but not really.

word count: 5.5K

a/n: what do y’all think of my new pfp?😝 i’m so glad everyone has enjoyed that first part of this little series. the overwhelming amount of support has touched my heart, i’m so sorry this took two weeks to come out i will try and be faster with the next part <3 & would 3 parts be too short? lmk in the replies!

— TWO

Making protein muffins was harder than you thought.

You had tried out multiple recipes with different flavors within the span of two days and it was driving your grandmother and your sister up the wall. Her kitchen now smelled like a mixture of all the different scents that were giving her a headache.

They were either dry, not enough flavor, too dense, not fluffy, too strong, etc. The list went on. But finally, on the third day of anxiously cooking, you perfected a beautiful and delicious batch of pumpkin muffins with a few blots of chocolate chips.

Ever since you found out that Vi worked at a kickboxing studio, it sparked an idea in your brain. You could bake some protein muffins to give her. Worried she wouldn’t like them, you double checked with her. You open your text thread with Vi, grinning at the last message she had sent you of the actual address of the studio so that you wouldn’t get lost.

Anxiously tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you stare at the sign above the studio with hesitation. You had done yourself up a bit; just a tad. Okay, a little more than a tad.

This was Vi’s first time seeing you outside of work and you wanted to make a better impression than messily tossed up hair and bundled up layered outfits. You sported a mini black skirt with a pair of opaque tights with an over the shoulder cherry red sweater, your hair left in its natural state. You stare at the black marker writing of Vi’s name on the box in the passenger's seat of your car.

Would she think you were trying too hard?

No, no, no overthinking, you scold yourself. You tug down your sun visor on your driver’s side to double check your makeup before grabbing your purse and the box of muffins for Vi. You open your driver's side to step out onto the gravel parking lot, sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves as you tug on the cold handle to the door of the studio.

The moment you stepped into the dim lit area, you spotted Vi almost immediately. A black compression athletic tank hugged her upper body, showing off her muscular upper body. Her bandaged hands were landing blows to a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The sound of her soft grunts and the clinking of the chain holding it up the heavy vinyl bag echoed within the space.

You stand at the edge of the large mat covering the area, unknowingly frozen in place at the sight of Vi’s veins popping out of her biceps with each punch she was throwing. You snap out of it when you realize how long you might’ve been standing there for, clearing your throat and shaking your head at how embarrassing that was.

“Vi, hi!” You wave from across the rubber gym tiles at her panting figure, a bright smile on your face.

Vi lowers her balled up wrapped fists that had been previously punching the bag to wave back at you, a smile creeping onto her lips at the sight of you holding the little tray of homemade treats. You looked like a doll out of place in this sweat-ridden studio in your adorably cozy outfit.

Vi made her way over to where you stood at the edge of the mat, eyes panning up and down as subtly as possible. Seeing her outfit up close caused a heat to tickle the tips of your ears. You swore you could see her abs through the material.

“Hey, cupcake. Those for me?”

“Yep! Thought I’d drop them off before I… head out.” You cleared your throat, nervously smiling at her as you fiddled with the cardboard of the box you had bought for this.

Vi grabs a small towel from a foldable chair where parents would sit through classes to wipe over the back of her sweat-ridden neck. She was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You couldn’t tell if you were staring at her as obviously as you thought. Worried you were going to seem like an absolute creep, your eyes blink as they focus on her face.

“Yeah? You have plans today?” Vi hangs the towel around her neck, crossing her arms over her chest.

The movement caused your eyes to flicker down to the protruding muscle. You were sure this time you were staring as her dark tattoos were glistening underneath the thin layer of moisture from her workout. God, you could hear your grandma now teasing you for getting distracted by muscles of all things.

“I mean I’m just going to the grocery store. Need a few more things for Isha’s cake.” You nod to confirm, flickering your eyes back up to hers.

They were somehow even more captivating than her biceps. Her lips twitch into a small grin, nodding slowly.

“The people at the store are very lucky.”

You couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto your lips.

“Shut up,” you look around at the equipment and trophies around the room to try and hide the heat that was undoubtedly forming on your cheeks. “Were you just working out here? Or did you have a class?”

“Yeah, I had a class earlier but it was for mostly 6 to 8 year olds so they didn’t beat me up too bad this time,” Vi jokes as she reminds you of her injuries from the last time you saw her.

You chuckle as you can only imagine seeing Vi with a whole group of children, gently encouraging them to take hits at her. Oh, your heart skipped at the thought.

“Yeah, I mean you look good now.” You blurt out without thinking.

Taking way too long to realize what had stumbled out of your mouth, Vi’s brows raise at your words as the faintest of smirks forms on her lips.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes flicker up to hers, self-consciousness washing over you once that realization sets in. Your mouth opens as you grip the box as some sort of comfort to ease the humiliation creeping up your neck.

“Not that you don’t look good all the time because you–you do! I mean, I don’t see you everyday but I’m sure you do,” you try and recover, voice becoming softer as you trail off.

Vi unfolded her arms from her chest to reach forward to rest them on your shoulders, faintly chuckling at your panic. “Cupcake, relax. I knew what you meant.”

You suck in a deep breath at her touch but you mask it as attempting to calm down from your frantic words.

“Okay, yeah. I’ll just leave these with you now,” you pat the top of the box, looking into her eyes. “I’ll see you soon so you can pick up the cake at the shop?”

Vi nodded in agreement with the set plan, taking the box of muffins from your hands. You nearly frown at the loss of touch that was somehow burning onto your skin even though you were wearing a thicker sweater.

“Yeah, I’ll see you soon but,” she clears her throat, moving the box to rest on one of her forearms as she brushes her front pieces of hair to the side. “Did you want to come to Isha’s birthday party?”

“Seriously?” Your smile widens.

Vi nods, eyes crinkling a bit from her smile matching your own.

“Are you sure?” You question, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. “It won’t be awkward not being family or anything?”

“No, I mean. It’s a small party but I think you’d have fun,” Vi shrugs her shoulders, suddenly becoming more sheepish. “Isha wants you there. Couldn’t stop talking about the nice bakery lady.”

“Just Isha?” You tilt your head, hopeful that she would give you the answer that you craved.

Vi taps on the box with a small smile. “I want you there, too.”

Oh, your gram would be jumping with glee seeing this interaction. Your face ignites a flame at her honesty, nodding with a beaming smile.

“I’ll be there. I’ll just bring the cake then.” You nod, pushing back flyways from your hair.

“Okay, good. I’ll text you the address, cupcake.”

You nod for what felt like the millionth time at the pink haired girl, taking a step back to try to force yourself to leave her warm presence.

“Okay and if you like those, uh, muffins, let me know if you want any other protein snacks. I like a good baking challenge.” You motion to the muffins.

Please say yes, you internally begged.

“I will. Though, I doubt I won’t like them if you’re the one baking them,” Vi assures your frantic mind.

You grin at her awkwardly, not knowing how to take these little flirty gestures she would throw at you. At least, you thought they were supposed to be flirty.

“Okay, okay,” you wave your hands, chuckling sheepishly to yourself as you realize you’ve probably overstayed your welcome. “I’ll leave you to… your boxing stuff.”

Vi chuckles at your wording, pointing to the clear door.

“Have fun shopping. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you, Vi.”

You felt like throwing up from your nerves.

You had texted Vi later that day after dropping off the muffins what you should wear so that you wouldn’t be either too overdressed or underdressed. It was a child's birthday party, for God’s sake but you still didn’t want to be too out of place especially around her family.

from vi ♥︎ | Do you have any options?

to vi ♥︎ | kind of? i have ideas of what i could wear but i’m stuck :/

from vi ♥︎ | Let me see and I’ll tell you what looks best!

You nearly dropped your phone on your face at the message. Standing up from your bed, you scurried to your closet to pick out two options as you didn’t want to bombard her with photos of yourself. You quickly change in your planned outfits minus the shoes, sending both of them to her. You were panting from how you switched from one to the next.

from vi ♥︎ | Fuck, you look good in both

from vi ♥︎ | I was expecting this to be an easier decision but you really just look good in either.

to vi ♥︎ | violet :(

Could she tell how flustered you were from behind the screen?

from vi ♥︎| I’m serious

from vi ♥︎ | But if you want me to choose, I’ll say the first one!

to vi ♥︎ | thank youuu! i was stressed about that lol

from vi ♥︎ | You’re going to be fine. I promise :)

to vi ♥︎ | really?

from vi ♥︎ | Yes. You’re the lady bringing the cake. No one can hate the lady bringing the cake, duh.

to vi ♥︎ | yeah, yeah, okay. i’ll relax now.

Now you were standing at the front door of the small suburban home in that very outfit that Vi had chosen; a white tee with an espresso brown cardigan over it and a pair of your favorite baggy dark wash jeans. Your hair was half-up, half-down and your cleanest pair of Docs. You rang the doorbell just a few seconds ago, patiently waiting for someone to answer the door.

If you held your breath, you could hear muffled footsteps approaching the wooden door. The sound of the locks unlatching signals you to straighten your back, preparing yourself for whoever was going to answer the door. The hinges creak as it swings open to reveal Vi, sporting a welcoming smile.

Similar to you, she was wearing a brown cut off sleeve top, a white tank top underneath the open torso portion and a pair of black jeans. You try not to read into the matching colors too much.

“Hi! I was so scared I got the wrong house,” you chuckle as you stare into her eyes.

“Nope, you got it. Everyone is in the back. Come on,” Vi reaches for your hand, tugging you through the small house halls.

You nearly drop the cake as you urge her to slow down, releasing soft chuckles at her eagerness. You glance around at the cozy walls of the home, catching a few glances at a few family photos hanging and set up on shelfs. You made a mental note to try and sneak inside to get a closer look at those.

You step through a white chipping back door, Vi guiding you to the birthday party set-up for the precious child. Green streamers hung on the wooden fence to appear as vines as a photo op and a foldable table that was filled with wrapped and bagged presents with Isha’s name in balloons with a few animal print ones surrounding the inflatable letters as music played from a speaker. It wasn’t the coldest day as it was nearing the end of November but there was a slight breeze and the sun was shining beautifully to really wrap up the sight of this unknown family.

You hold up the cake underneath the white box, subconsciously gripping onto Vi’s hand due to the anxiety swimming through your veins.

“Come on. I want you to meet everyone,” Vi insists, a charming smile on her face as she walks up to a group of people that were sitting at a round table that had a jungle leaf tablecloth over it.

The whole table had cups of drinks in front of them, talking amongst each other with animated features.

“Hey guys,” Vi speaks up, her hand still holding yours gently.

A chorus of greetings overwhelms you in a good way as she goes around the table to name them off one by one.

“Okay, this is Jinx, my other sister,” she points to a pale skinned girl with two electric blue hip length braids, a few strands coming from the front to frame her face.

The girl smiles at you with kindness, eyes widening as she seems to realize who you are.

“You’re the bakery girl? That donut was delicious. I have full trust that the cake will be amazing,” Jinx nodded with a wink, leaning into the darker skinned boy next to her.

“That’s Ekko,” Vi chuckles as she points at white haired boy.

“Hi. Nice to meet you,” he grins at you, nodding his head at you to show his acknowledgement of you.

“Hi!” You reciprocate the gesture, looking at the more broad woman on the other side of him.

“And Sevika. Don’t let that mean face scare you. Just wait until Isha comes down from the bouncy house.” Vi gave your hand a squeeze, a teasing grin on her face.

Sevika huffs at the pink haired girl's words but manages to press a semi-warm smile on her face in your direction. You nod with a more timid ‘hi’ leaving your lips. You didn’t want to say it out loud but she scared you a bit.

Okay, she scared you a lot.

“I think my dad’s inside but I’ll go let Isha know you’re here. Be right back.” Vi, after what felt like ages, released your hand to walk over to the bouncy house that was filled with a few more kids around Isha’s age.

The second her warm palm left your own, a wave of alarm washed over your features now being left alone with people that were closest to her. You turn to the group with the calmest expression you could muster to attempt to hide how nerve-wracking this was for you.

“You can relax, you know,” Jinx was the first to speak, tilting her head at your tense figure. “Here. I can take the cake. I’ll put it in the fridge.”

She stood up, reaching her pale hands out to you to take the cardboard box from you. You thank her quietly as you allow her to relieve you of that worry, leaving you alone with Ekko and Sevika.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be awkward,” you shake your head, taking the seat opposite to Sevika to leave Jinx’s spot still open.

“Vi told us how nervous you were so we were kind of expecting it,” Ekko admits which makes you wince a bit. “But, hey, we could do some ice breakers? Tell us something that’ll ease the tension.”

You nod at Ekko’s offer, pondering for a moment as you pick out a random fact from the depths of your brain’s memory log.

“Oh, I went to the hospital when I was 7 because I swallowed my Polly Pocket’s purse because my grandma said I had ‘wanted to know what it tasted like’.” You offer, glancing between the two strangers in front of you.

Sevika raised one of her palms to cover her mouth like she was trying to hide her amusement from your sentence. Ekko’s eyes widened as he snorted back a laugh, causing you to proudly smile at yourself on succeeding on breaking the ice just a bit.

“Jinx nearly burned my hair off when we were kids. She was obsessed with making homemade bombs,” Ekko shared with you, pointing to a mark in his eyebrows. “I still can’t grow hair in this spot on my eyebrow because of it.”

“I got this scar from her kicking me in the face when she wouldn’t go to the dentist when she was 9,” Sevika pointed at her half an inch scar on her top lip with a shake of her head.

“Okay so what I’m hearing is to stay clear of Jinx,” you joke.

This seemed to ease the tension between you and the two completely, them nodding to confirm. Slowly but surely, everyone started sharing stories of their childhood as did you. You learned alot about Vi and her little family through these two, feeling more connected to them already. As you shared what your jobs were like, you feel a smaller frame tackle you from the side. You look down to see a head of wild bronze waves cling onto your arm.

It was undoubtedly Isha. Vi stood behind her with a sweet smile, folding her arms over her chest before she pats Ekko on the back as she sits herself down on the other side of you. You send her a quick glance, her brows raising as if to check up on you and you nod to assure her.

“Hey birthday girl,” you look down at her, golden eyes staring into yours.

She makes a delighted sound, snuggling more into you. You rub a hand over her back for a moment before raising your hands to sign that she looked cute, motioning to her adorable birthday sash and bunny ears over her black and white striped tee.

Signing right back to you with an elated smile, she says; ‘you look beautiful.’

Your heart tightens at her kind words, signing a ‘thank you’ before tugging her into a gentle embrace. Her back was a bit damp from what you assume is the sweat from jumping around in the bouncy castle.

“She’s excited for her cake,” Vi hums as she stares down at her sister with a teasing grin.

Isha nods enthusiastically at her words to confirm said excitement, looking over to Ekko and Sevika and signing something that you didn’t pick up due to her turning away from you. They both nod, eyes following over to Vi’s figure next to you with raised brows. You turn to look at Vi in confusion at the silent communication but choose to mind your own business as Vi’s cheeks seem to match her hair now. You didn’t want to embarrass her further.

“Alright, who’s hungry? The pizza’s here!” A deep English accent comes from behind the group, a burly yet kind looking man comes from the back door which you came from carrying five pizza boxes.

Jinx trails behind him with two bags of ice stacked on her own arms.

“You hungry, cupcake?” Vi places a hand on your shoulder, jerking her head over to the man.

You suck in a deep breath at her words, feeling Isha’s fingers wrap around your own that were resting in your lap. You were unbelievably hungry but knowing that this was going to be your first impression of Vi's father made your stomach churn, attempting to suppress your hunger.

But you push through.

“Yeah, I could eat,” you nod to confirm, turning your head to the side to give her a composed smile.

Sevika and Ekko followed you and Vi’s lead as you both stood up from your seats again to walk across the slightly overgrown grass, nearly tripping as a few more children passed by your hips and legs to run towards the table full of cardboard boxes of pizza.

“Hey, hey, slow down. One at a time,” the man told the group of kids, pointing at them to grab the disposable plates.

“Dad,” Vi called, taking your right hand once again while Isha still clung to your other.

“And who is this, Violet?” He questions his daughter as he places a slice on a child's plate in the line they formed.

“Hi!” You speak up before Vi could as you introduce yourself.

The man nods at your introduction, a friendly smile on his face as he plates another child’s plate. His eyes flicker to his eldest daughter with a raise of his brows before focusing his attention on you.

“Vander. Vi’s told me alot about you,” he states as he points to the pink haired girl standing next to you. “You’re the sweet lady who made Isha’s birthday cake. Got to say, I saw it in the fridge and it’s absolutely perfect. Thank you for doing that for her.”

You felt overwhelmed by the compliments from the man, strangely having the urge to hug him but only tighten your grip on Vi and Isha’s hands.

“Oh, it really was so much fun to make too. I don’t get a lot of cake orders so I was excited to test myself, I guess,” you assure the man of your adoration with the job.

“You work up an appetite baking? We’ve got some fine cuisine here,” his voice was playful as he motions to the greasy boxes.

You nod to confirm which resulted in a strong Dad-like laugh to leave Vanders’ throat before he raised a hand to clap on your shoulder, tugging you towards the boxes now that all of the children had gotten their own pizza slices. You release the two sister’s hands before looking up at the man.

The entirety of the birthday party quickly became a party game frenzy after everyone hounded down their greasy food. There was cup stacking; Vi won that one, pin the tail on the donkey; Isha won that, limbo; you almost broke your back trying to do that, etc. You saw a more eccentric and playful side of Vi, cursing her for being such a bright person around her family.

It made her all the more attractive.

When you ended up being her partner for the wheelbarrow race, you felt like a freak for those good few seconds where you were holding her legs up by her ankles so she could use her hands to ‘run’ across the grass. You kept your eyes straight forward for as long as possible.

They lingered a bit downward because why the hell did her ass look good in black jeans? You nearly won but Isha and one of their little cousins who had come to the party won that round due to you being… well, distracted for a moment. She stuck the middle finger up and stuck her tongue out at Vi quickly before Vander could see, causing you and Vi to gasp before she celebrated with her cousin again with a cheeky grin.

Your real enemy ended up being the three legged race. You and Vi’s hips were touching, arms interlocked as a bandana was being tied around your thighs to keep you from separating. You suck in a deep breath as Sevika tightens the fabric, patting the area to tell you two it was good.

“Good luck,” Sevika tells the two of you, standing back up to move on to Ekko and Jinx who were next in the lineup.

Vi grins at the elder, looking over at you as she brushes her hair out of face.

“Who do you think is going to win, huh?”

“I know you want me to say us but I have high hopes for Ekko and Jinx. She’s very scrappy,” you admit with a soft laugh, your hand twiddling with a loose fabric on your cardigan.

Vi nods slowly in agreement at your words.

“And Ekko?” She hums.

“He matches that,” you lean in closer before pulling back as the wind blows your hair a bit.

This Vi chuckles at, not denying that accusation. Vander moves to the front very end of the fence of the backyard, cupping his large hands around his mouth to shout the countdown.

“On your marks,” he yells, “get set.”

He pauses dramatically before raising his left hand upwards to mimic a flag and slam it back down before yelling out: “Go!”

You and Vi immediately start to move yourselves forward, Jinx whining that you two were cheating already. Vi’s hard bicep tug into your own as she tried to keep you two from tripping.

Isha and one of her cousins were catching up to you quickly, their little legs beating you. Some force was on your side that day as you had stepped forward with your free leg and rolled your ankle a bit on what felt like a toy.

It happened too fast for you to comprehend but you fell to the ground. You turned to your back side without thinking and nearly twisted your ankle doing so.

Vi’s hand attempts to grab your forearm but in doing so, falls over with you. Her body covers your own, her weight laying on top of your own. You groan at the impact hitting your stomach and chest, looking down at your legs to see that the fabric of the bandana had ripped which was what caused Vi’s body to be on you and not next. Her body shifts to lift her upper body up to relieve that ache in your chest.

Vi lifts her head to stare down at you with a concerned expression, hands on either side of your head.

“Shit, are you okay?”

You tilt your head down to how Vi’s hips were pressed into yours and look back up to stare into her twisted expression.

“Yeah, I’m… good,” you lied through your teeth as the back of your head was now throbbing.

Vi’s eyes were searching your own for any sort of discomfort. Your chests were centimeters apart as you breathed heavily to try and catch your breath, eyes boring into one another's. Suddenly, your head and backache were forgotten about. You swore for just a moment Vi’s eyes flickered down to your lips before pushing up off of you, grunting as she stood to her feet.

She brushed off her jeans before leaning forward to wrap her hand around your forearm to help you up and off the grass. You allow her to tug you upwards to your feet, avoiding her glaze like the plague.

“Ekko and Jinx take the cake!” You hear Vander start to clap, wincing out loud. “You two alright? Kind of got caught up in the competition for a moment there.”

“Fine, Dad,” Vi replies as she watches you brush off your own legs, sucking in a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“A little headache but I’ll survive, Vi.” You shake your head, brushing your hair out of your face with a lighthearted chuckle.

You two sadly couldn’t speak for longer as Vander announced it was time for cake. Vi’s hand lingered on your arm as she ushered the two of you to the set-up, watching as Jinx carefully came out with the lit birthday cake. Your eyes round with admiration at Isha scrambling to sit still in her chair as her big golden eyes widen as everyone starts to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.

Watching the scene unfold sent a bittersweet sense of comfort, remembering how you were once that small with a family like this. You hoped Isha could have this forever, security and love wrapped into one. If a tear left your eye, you’d disguise it as it being from the impact just a few moments ago.

The party died down slowly as adults and other family members came to pick up the other children that were at the function, getting pieces of the cake shoved into their palms that Vi had been praising since she took her first bite. Feeling like you had overstayed your welcome as the family was now gathered in the kitchen area to clean up, you quietly tell Vi that you should probably head home.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll walk you out,” Vi holds her finger up to Jinx, Ekko, Sevika, and Vander who were in the middle of a conversation.

“Aw, what? You have to go home already?” Jinx furrows her brows, huffing out a breath. “I didn’t even get to embarrass Vi in front of you yet.”

You chuckle at her words while Vi grumbles a sound of annoyance at her sister.

“I’m sure you’ll do it soon enough. And yeah, I got baking duties to tend to.”

“Well, I hope we get to see you more often and not just so you can bring us cake,” Jinx stepped forward to give you a quick hug.

You pat her back with a new sense of welcoming into Vi’s family, nodding in agreement with that statement. You say goodbye to everyone, making sure to sign Isha one more ‘Happy Birthday’ to which she signs back what you think is ‘Bye, pretty cake lady.’

As you walk down the halls to the front door, Vi questions: “What are you baking next?”

Catching you off guard, you ponder for a moment.

“Well, I’ve been dying to make some cinnamon rolls but kneading the dough can be tiring.” You huff as you watch Vi open the door for you, allowing you to step onto the gray concrete walkway that leads to the driveway. “Why?”

“Just… wondering.”

Then an idea sparks in your head as you lean against your car, turning to face Vi with a hesitant smile.

“Did you want to come over to mine to help me bake them?” You offer quickly before you could fumble and retract the statement.

Vi’s dark brows raise into her hairline at your invitation.

“You just want me to knead the dough, don’t you?” She teases.

You blow out a breath of air as you shrug your shoulders as if it wasn’t the first thing you thought of. “I mean, if you really want to. I wouldn’t mind it.”

Vi purses her lips as she nods, trying to repress her beaming smile. “Yes, I do want to.”

A sense of accomplishment washes over you at how you successfully made it through today without having any major screw-ups.

“I really had a good time today. I forgot how much fun birthday parties can be,” you grin sheepishly as you stand by your car, the sunset lighting up the side of your face beautifully.

Vi’s smile only grew at how stunning you looked.

“I told you that you would. You should come over more,” Vi shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head at you.

You hum with a playful smile as you bump your shoulder with hers. “So I can get multiple concussions? I don’t think so.”

“Well, I can promise I can try to prevent as many of those as possible.”

You chuckle out an ‘okay’ at her words, fiddling with your cardigan sleeve. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, the soft breeze sending shivers down your spine. Your bad habit of admiring her silently; nearly creepily hit you when you made eye contact with her, her brows raising at you challengingly.

“Right, yeah, so I’ll let you know when I have everything to make the cinnamon rolls,” you stated as your hand hovered your driver's side door handle, snapping out of your temporary trance.

Vi’s arms folded over the front of her chest, scuffing her shoes on the concrete of their driveway as she rocked her on her heels.

You find her eyes once again, taking in a confidence wielding breath as taking a step forward to wrap your arms around her neck. Vi was taken aback for half a second, breath hitching before she let her arms drop from their spot to hold you up your torso with one arm as the other raised to cradle the back of your head with her hand. You bury your head into her neck to cling onto the warmth for as long as you could.

“Thank you again for coming, cupcake. I’ll see you soon, alright?” Vi says gently into your temple, sliding her hand off of your head.

“Yeah,” you suck in a deep breath, “I’ll see you.”

Achingly doing so, you detach yourself from her embrace to finally get into your car. Vi stood in the driveway as you reversed and drive off, waving at you until you were down the road.

previous part -> next part

TAG-LIST: @strawberrykidneystone @lovinglynny @kylorey25 @loserbaby66 @eddiesdrummergf @jokermoonie @ranxiaolong @morphids @gayandcurious @oatmatchalatte @iamastar @saviourcomplexgf @vihxh7 @jinxjinxjinx12 @krilara @unear7hly @magical-rush

[alamogirl80]

If somehow… Cody found Obi-Wan after he escaped the Empire set during The Bad Batch:

Obi-Wan recognized the sunburst paint before the trooper dropped his blaster, wrong color though it was. Obi-Wan couldn’t let go of his own blaster — too many memories of canon fire, blasters and falling, falling falling

Then Cody is right there, grabbing his wrist, pulling him in. And sure, Obi-Wan could push back, use the Force, escape… but distraught brown eyes have him pinned.

“Obi-Wan.” Shaky, broken voice he knows so well. “It’s me. It’s Cody. Please…”

And thus, Obi-Wan is lost… a trembling shell of the man he once was. Unable and unwilling to fight back.

He’s Cody’s now. Always was.

A breath. Then another. And… “Cody?”

[yandere-sins]

Forgotten Names

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

Your mother always told you to get home before nightfall. But what happens in the forest when it's dark? Who lurks there, waiting for you?

A lovely commission from an anon ♥ It was a lot of fun to work on this, thank you for giving me the chance to write out your idea!

Characters: Yandere!Fae!Malleus (TWST) x GN!Reader Words: ~6.5k Warnings: Yandere, Mystical Beings (Fae), Stalking, Hunting, Hypnosis, Manipulation, Mention of Death

Things linger where the sun doesn't shine, your mother used to say, and you had always believed her. There was no reason not to, and even as an adult, you were careful about where you went and at what time you traversed the darkest places. It wasn't easy keeping yourself afloat with the meager jobs there were for you to do, but most of the time, you still managed to earn your keep before night settled over the village closest to your home, so you never had to walk the forest in the dark. 

Until that fateful night. 

Not many things scared you, after all, you lived alone and knew how to defend yourself and your house against intruders. But the sounds of the forest, the rustling of the leaves, the cracking of branches, and the bone-chilling cries of animals still made your blood run cold. It was eery, even if you knew it was completely normal and explainable despite your nervous reactions. Looking back over your shoulder became a regular motion as you braved the way home. Selling your recent batch of bundled herbs had gone on way too long as you had refused to give up without selling every one of them. 

Money was always tight, so exceptions had to be made.

Still, you hugged yourself as you kept moving forward, feeling and hearing the gravel beneath your feet. You had walked this road so many times in your life that it was second nature by now. Even without looking, you knew where the holes were that would make you stumble, and you knew how long it would take before you reached your home and could lock the door and bundle up. But even with that knowledge, walking the path this late at night felt… off. Strange. Wrong. 

There had been recent rumors going around the town's people. Somewhere a few villages over, a changeling had been found. In another place, someone met a strange person asking about their name. Those same rumors appeared every couple of years, and you had never believed them. They were merely figments of imagination, perhaps to scare the children from misbehaving. Your mother never used those scares on you, although she had never directly denied the existence of other creatures in the forest. Creatures that were neither animal nor human. Fae, she called them. The fair protectors of the woods and tenacious tricksters, if they happen to take a liking to you. She was an odd woman, you had to admit, but she seemed convinced of her own stories. 

You tried not to think of the stories of abduction and disappearances you had heard over the years and how they had always correlated to her stories, but your mind was racing, as was your heart. "There is nothing to be afraid of," you tried to calm yourself down, but every step you took, leading deeper into the barely lit woods, terrified you more. 

What if there was something? Something otherworldly, that couldn't be defined by human standards and used mischief and trickery to take advantage of careless wanderers? What if there were lost souls all around you, and you weren't even aware of their cries for help because they were taken to another realm? What if something followed you home?

Internally, you cursed yourself for letting your thoughts run wild neither productively nor helpfully. Those stories weren't true, they wouldn't really happen, especially not to you. So what, you had to go home in the dark once? Realistically, many people had to, so why would anything happen to you specifically? Deciding to not let your thoughts freak you out any further, you took a deep breath, curling your hands into fists as you marched onwards. Soon, you'd be home; that was all you should think about. 

It wasn't until the sound of gravel beneath your soles was multiplied that fear managed to creep back into you. 

Your heart was pounding, and your posture stiffened. You noticed the figure approaching you on the same road, going in the opposite direction of you. Even in the dark, punctuated by the moonlight, you managed to make out the outlines of their cloak swishing in the wind, their hood covering their face as they walked confidently. They seemed to have no hurry, even though the forest was dark and menacing, in stark contrast to you, who only felt more nervous the closer you two got. 

In a split-second decision to get more distance between you two, you jumped off the road and onto the grassy bit separating the way from the forest. It was a minimal difference, but it made you feel safer as if you could avoid the person better. Step by step, your pulse seemed to rise, pounding in your ears as they got closer and closer until they were right beside you, respectfully lowering their head a little in a bow. You scrambled to do the same, not needing a disgruntled wanderer on your tail now, barely making eye contact with them from under their hood as you took larger steps to get away faster. 

The figure was huge, but perhaps that was just your imagination. 

You were so lost in your hurry, simply trying to get away, that you didn't listen to the sound of gravel coming to an abrupt spot behind you, sharp green eyes watching you, piercing through the night effortlessly. There would be no harm if you were far enough away, right? A stranger could smile all they wanted behind your back, you didn't have to care as long as you escaped their sight before they could catch up to you. So, with steps stumbling over themselves, you hurried alongside the path, your breath hitching as you kept holding it. 

There was no way that person could catch up to you after you got away this easily, right?

But was it that easy?

Your feet dragged over the path, the forest stretching out before you endlessly. For years, you had taken the same route and walked the same road that your mother had shown you. You knew every curve and obstacle on the way, yet everything seemed so different at night. Had the stones beneath your feet always been so big, the trees' branches loomed over you, the way home taking so long? You weren't sure anymore. If there had been any sunlight left, you could have told the time that was left exactly, only by the trees you were passing. But in the dark, everything was shrouded in mystery, much to your dismay. 

When would you be home? The question kept recurring over and over as you forced yourself forward, legs burning with strain, and sweat collecting on your forehead. Surely, at some point, you'd reach your home, giving you a chance to put up your feet and rest your aching back. Even if you worked to survive, some days were harder than others, and with a forest that seemed to go on forever, even more so. But there was no time to rest. No time to think or wait out the pain, the only thing that could make you stop in your tracks would be…

A fork in the path. 

"There is no fork!" you gasped, both confused and surprised. "There never is a fork in the path!"

In all these years, you never had to make a choice. Left or right were directions reserved for the marketplace when you decided to open shop every day—but not for your way to and from the village. Never once, not even subconsciously, did you have to decide which path to take, and you didn't know where the other one would lead you. Another town? A clearing in the woods? Someone's property, however odd the choice was to live far away from civilization? But perhaps someone else was like your mother, preferring the solitude over the convenience and bustle of a village.

Perhaps you had taken a wrong turn somewhere prior? "No, impossible," you whispered to yourself, biting your lip in confused frustration. How could this have happened? All you did was a mere repeat from yesterday and the day before. The only difference was the time of day, and that simply wasn't reason enough for this change. 

Turning towards the slightly straighter split, you decided it must be the right one. If you had never taken a left turn before, then wherever that path went, it couldn't have been the correct one. It was hard to ignore the gnawing feeling of something being terribly off about all of this, but there wasn't much you could do other than move on. Standing here in the middle of the dark forest simply wasn't an option; the real and not-so-real risks of being an easy target out here were nothing you wanted to tempt. 

You always walked the direct way home, and you'd not change now. Nothing would tempt you astray, and you were prepared to face what lay ahead. Surely, the strangeness and off-putting feelings were deeply established fears from your childhood. You always hated your mother leaving you alone at night to perform her little rituals and speak to what she called the "protectors of the forest". What an odd woman she was, but you were different, much, much different. You survived the many nights she left, and the one morning she didn't return. Surely, you'd survive this forest as well.

A soft gasp escaped you as you detected movement straight ahead. The moonlight that threw dots of light onto the ground kept disappearing and appearing repeatedly with the swaying of the leaves, closer and closer to you as your feet slowed down, the exhaustion forgotten with your heart working twice as fast, hitting your rips uncomfortably. A figure, huge and with steady movements, closed in on you, their body covered in a cape, their face hooded. You've seen them before, knowing it right away, but it made no sense that they came from the path ahead of you. They passed you before, right? You didn't just imagine that?

With only two, perhaps three steps, separating you two, the figure came to a stop. As had you, you noticed only now, your feet frozen to the ground while your knees shook unintentionally. Somehow, you hadn't avoided the person this time, even though you had to be so careful the first time. They reached up, and you watched with wide-opened eyes as the figure grabbed their hood, slowly peeling it back to reveal their face. In the dark, you were barely able to make out his features, as they were draped in thick, long, black hair. However, with eyes so piercing, shining even without the reflection of the moonlight, it was impossible not to stare. You had no words to describe his deep, striking green gaze, lacking any comparison from your simple life. But it was the colors of jewels you heard about in the market, those that rich people bought and wore, and unlike anything you had ever seen.

The wind rustled the leaves above your head, swaying the branches heavily, although you were barely affected by it where you stood. Neither was the stranger, whose image became clearer as more light slipped through the trees, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you, his hand outstretched, with a luscious vine of grapes in it, towards you. Even the fruits seemed to shine in the light, plump and big, nothing like the grapes you were used to. They were enticing, and you felt even more confused about why he'd show you something as precious as this fruit since it wasn't common in this area.

"You seem exhausted," he spoke, his voice like a sigh in the wind. The stranger took another step forward, invitingly shaking his hand with the grapes. "Feel free to have some, replenish your strength. You will need it on your journey."

Feeling your mind focus in on the tempting allure of fruits, you bit your lip as you felt your mouth water. How sweet would they be? Juicy and delicious as you popped them in your mouth? The idea was enough to make your resolution sway, the offer too enticing. And yet, you managed to stop yourself, gripping your own hand as something inside you began to scream. 

Trap. Trap. TRAP!

"No, thank you," you replied politely, tearing your foot away from the ground to make a step to the side. It was only a small resistance against the trance you felt under, but it slowly put your body back into motion, your thoughts becoming your own again, your flesh coming alive. It felt like you hadn't breathed for a while, your lungs filling with air and your heart picking up the speed again, blood pumping through your body. 

The stranger's smile seemed to crack in one corner of his mouth before he drew the grapes back towards him, his eyes narrowing. "Are you lost?" he asked, and this time, you thought you heard an echo repeating the words from inside the forest. It gave you the creeps. "Do you need help? I know the way back, I can show you."

Shaking your head, slow, then vehemently, you tore your eyes off him, forcing another heavy step to take place, putting one foot in front of the other. It was all so tedious, or perhaps, as if time had slowed down, and with it, your very being. All your thoughts came and went, but the impulses and movements were slow and heavy, and nothing worked as you were used to it. 

So it was no surprise that one step to the stranger's side put him right before you.

The alluring scent of an elderberry tree wafted into your nose, your mouth now watering from both the thought of the grapes and the memories of your mother's elderberry jam that you had always loved as a child. He had yet to block your path completely, but your body could barely move from the same spot as he inched closer, his free hand raising up, close to your face as if to caress you. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, and you felt inclined to answer with a resolute "No!" but the words wouldn't press out of your throat, your lips opening, but no sound escaping them. You pressed them together in frustration, fear rushing through you as the stranger was about to touch you. You didn't know him and didn't want to know him; all of this was wildly inappropriate! All you wanted was to get home and lock yourself into the cabin, hoping and praying he wouldn't find you there. 

Luckily, that was enough to give your body the push that was needed. 

With the agility of a fox, you ducked and slid past the stranger, too fast for him to react. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw his eyes widen in surprise, his whole body straightening up to this full height as his features widened and spread, his expression turning into something more akin to elatedness. It was as if a thrill of excitement overcame him before it suddenly vanished, the person returning back into a state of calm, watching you run. 

You felt his gaze at your back for a long time, those piercing green eyes drilling into you violently as he watched every step you took away from him. You found yourself looking back a few times, seeing him simply standing there. Eventually, you watched him pluck one of the grapes, eating them demonstratively as if to show they weren't poisoned. And the next time, he had pulled up his hood again, turning to walk in the direction you had come from, just like before, both of you disappearing back into the forest's darkness again, as if you had never met at all.

But you knew better than that. Something about that person had triggered an inherent need to get away from him. Even when you had been held back by the unexplainable resistance of your own body, you had still realized that you needed to get away. These feelings had been very real, even if you tried to reason with yourself that you were overreacting and there was nothing that warranted such extreme emotions towards someone looking out for you. 

However, even so, you couldn't help but keep looking back. Although there was nothing more to see as the darkness enveloped you again, you felt as if his eyes were still digging into you, trying to bore into your very soul and display it openly for him. Whoever he was, from the first meeting on, you knew something wasn't right about him. And this feeling only confirmed it for you. 

You had to get home.

No matter what you had to do, and despite your best efforts to calm yourself down, you had to get out of the darkness. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe all that happened was mere coincidence, but it no longer helped to imagine it as such. You could feel the fear pulsing through your veins and the panic govern your muscles. Everything was strained and stressed, and the only thing on your mind was the safety of your home and the light of your fireplace. It had been a stupid idea to stay in town for too long; no amount of money was worth what you were going through now. No amount would save you if you fell victim to whatever was lurking in these damned woods. 

Stricken with fear, you brushed aside any branch and any thorn that was in your way. In retrospect, it seemed like a warning. Like they were trying to hold you back from something, and latest, when you felt your footing slip, you knew from what. First, you landed on your back, the ground disappearing beneath your soles and throwing you back. Next you knew, you were tumbling through fallen leaves and into the occasionally growing bush on the incline. However, nothing was stopping you now, not even the dense forest, the trees seemingly giving way to your fall, and the scream you emitted at first turned into gasps and grunts as the dirt led you further and further into the thicket. 

There was no hill on your way. There was nothing you had to climb and even fewer obstacles as the way down had. Had you chosen the wrong split when you were given the options? Should you have gone left where you walked right? Were you even on the correct path to begin with, or had it all been fated to go wrong the moment you entered the forest at a time your mother warned you about?

You didn't know, but it stopped as abruptly as it happened.

With a loud oomph! sound, your body finally came to a halt. The world was still spinning, light flooding your vision despite you barely opening your eyes. You didn't know if you were standing or lying on the ground anymore, even though you felt cold moonlight shine down on you, your body aching harder than it had all night. For a moment, you considered just lying down in the spot you were, tackling the intricacies of getting up, taking care of your bruises and scratches, and making your way home once the sun was rising over your head again. Maybe if you stayed still, nothing and no one would come to harm you. It almost seemed like the safer option at that moment.

Dreadfully, your body was forced to disagree, an ominous shiver running through you. The lovely scent of elderflower washed over you as someone held out their hand, asking, "Are you alright, Darling?" in a voice sweeter than honey and reassuring you of not being alone, the true culprit in all of this. Your body reacted like any desperate human would, seeking the comfort of another person to lift your spirits. Fingers wrapped around your palm and wrist as you rested your hand on the stranger's, and you felt the tug in every muscle along your arm and back strain as if this was a punishment. 

Your face landed in a solid chest, layered with soft fabrics that cushioned your fall. You knew this person, yet you knew nothing at all, and that was what your mind concentrated on. After all the panic, stress, and pain, it felt safe not to be alone anymore, and you relished in the feeling of receiving help. When he stepped to the side, your body followed, and when he turned you around, sending a chill down your spine as you felt his gaze fall on you, you opened your eyes for the first time, looking up. 

For a moment, it felt like you were falling again, but then, your behind landed gently on top of a stump, your chin raised towards the man in front of you, smiling just as tenderly down at you as he had before. Perhaps even more so, as the smile seemed to reach his eyes this time, a weird sense of knowing him tingling in the back of your mind. You had never met him before, yet it felt like he knew you. 

Taking a knee before you, the stranger didn't make your neck strain to look at him for very long, one hand landing on your thigh while he raised the other up and towards you, the same, voluptuous vine of ripe grapes resting in his palm. "You look so exhausted, my dear," he whispered, only loud enough to be heard by you. "Let me help you recover your strength. It's been such a long way, hasn't it? It must have been so hard."

As tempting as the fruits were, displayed to you so invitingly, your unfocused gaze shifted further, grazing over the pale fingers and the long, black nails. In fact, the color seemed to start from the fingertip, eventually resulting in the deep, dark at the tip of his claw-like ends. The longer you looked, the more your vision began to blur, endings and beginnings becoming unclear, and even the deep red shining in the moonlight mixing into his skin's pale whiteness. It was uncanny and unreal. 

And it hit you like a blow to the head.

The rumors, the stories. Your mother's warning and tales. Even if you tried to deny it for so long, suddenly, you realized deep inside of you that all of them had been real. That there truly was something otherworldly out there. Not nature, not animal, not human. 

Your eyes shot upwards to look into his, and you suddenly felt very clear and awake, unlike some seconds ago, the daze fleeting. His eyes were nothing like a human, the green nauseatingly bright, and the pupils slitted. However, they seemed to quiver as they looked at you, only a small part of your reflection visible in them. And from the dark curls, horns wound themselves towards the sky, a feature you had missed before. 

"Who are you?" you mumbled, a part of you still in disbelief even if the evidence was clear. Nothing about this stranger was human, and you doubted it ever had. That would explain him appearing again and again, and you shuddered at the thought that you, getting lost in the woods, was his doing as well. 

His lips curled higher, exposing his teeth, the hints of fangs protruding from his open lips. At the same time, his face softened, and with his free hand, the stranger reached for yours, clasping it tightly. "It's only natural for you to forget my name. It's been such a long time, hasn't it?"

Every word he spoke ran another chill down your spine, and you quickly tore your hand out of his grip, wanting none of the closeness he was initiating. You didn't know him, or did you? Nothing sparked in your memories, only your instincts were on high alert as they urged you to get away. 

The stranger lowered his gaze to his hand, his expression turning sullen, but he quickly looked up at you again, this time, determination swirling in dark green threads in his irises. "I'll help you remember, then."

This was getting out of hand, goosebumps spreading over your arms as you attempted to get up. With his proximity, it was hard to create enough space. Out of panic, you turned towards him, wanting to push him away, your lips opening in verbal protest. But you were completely taken aback by the push of a round, firm grape to your lips, his long fingers resting at the side of your face as his thumb pressed the fruit into your mouth unrelentingly. Even though you tried your best to resist, pressing your teeth together, the pressure and the slight threat of sharp claws close to your throat eventually made your jaw yield. Before long, the fruit rolled onto your tongue, his thumb lodging beneath your chin and keeping your mouth closed so you couldn't spit it out.

"Remember," he spoke auspiciously, the expectations of the unknown in his gaze, his whole body leaning forward until his scent wafted all around you. 

You felt overcome by dizziness as if your body was going to fall, but every time you braced for impact, nothing happened. Inadvertently, your teeth cut the skin of the fruit as you tried to tear out of the trance that you felt creeping through your body, a dangerously sweet taste washing over your tongue. Immediately, your mouth watered, desiring more of the flavor, the grape swaying back and forth on your tongue, more cuts appearing and tearing it apart as it collided with your teeth. By the time you realized you were actively biting into it, savoring the taste spreading all over your mouth, you were slowly succumbing to the magic twirling around you, now visible to even your eyes.

Laughter from the trees, colors swishing by. The night turned into day, but it was all just a dream that was slowly devouring you without you realizing it. Flowers began to bloom all over the clearing that you could see clearly now, with other figures standing nearby, some of them dancing, others eating fruits from each other's hands and licking up the juices. 

"Remember, darling," the fae before you urged, popping another grape into your mouth that your body practically inhaled. 

"Remember who you are. Remember me."

But how? You kept munching the grape as you pondered the question, trying to solve the riddle you were given. Why was it so important, and what could there be to remember?

Looking up once more, the scenery had shifted again. You were in the forest, garlands of flowers were hung between the branches, and people wore flower crowns and danced. You could even hear the music playing from somewhere. A hand holding yours helped you stand up as you looked at the people who turned towards you, cheering and clapping their hands as if to celebrate you, but why? What was the reason? The scenery was… familiar. You had been here before, hadn't you? 

"It's our wedding day. Do you remember now?"

Turning your head towards the stranger next to you, you noticed he had a change of clothes. Long, flowing garments robed him, and when you looked down at yourself, you noticed them on you, too. The wind was blowing gently, the air warm and humid, and everyone was happy and jolly, but that wasn't right… why would you marry a stranger? 

"It's not… we're not marrying. I don't know you!"

In an instant, the magic dispelled, the laughter fell silent and the people disappeared. It was night again, the moon shining down on the angry expression on the fae's face. For some reason, you had managed to break the spell on you, and for a moment, your thoughts were as clear as the night sky above you. 

"I've been patient, my love," he spoke sternly. Picking up another grape, he made a step towards you as you took one back. "I've accepted your mother's conditions. I waited. I waited for so long, watching over you as you took the road through my forest every morning and every evening. Waited silently for you to take it at night, as was the condition of the pact your mother and I made. She swore you'd never walk my forest at night or be mine once more. You will remember now."

Claws shot towards you, burying one more grape in your mouth. You tried to spit it out before it could do its damage, but the fae's palm sealed your lips, and you had no choice but to swallow. Immediately, you were overcome by its taste again, sweetness coating every inch of your mouth and all the way down your throat. It was irresistible.

You were craving more, and Malleus was happy to provide it. One after another, he plopped the magical grapes into your mouth, providing you with more of the bliss-like effect they had on you. At first, you struggled against his hand, pulling at his arm, but he didn't move an inch, even as you used all your strength. Instead, he squeezed the grapes, their delicious juices running down his fingers and coating your lips until you lapped them up like a greedy dog. 

Only then did you realized.

"Malleus," you mumbled against his palm, the words pressed into his hand like kisses as your eyes widened. You did know him. You knew his name, you knew what he was. You two met before. Before when you…

"Yes," he purred, "Yes, my love. Finally."

Without hesitation, he pushed another grape between his fingers, making you swallow it and remember everything. The forests, the games of hide and seek you used to play with the fairies. The "imaginary" friend you told your mother about. By the time you were eighteen, you were so lonely. Still, she thought you made up friends that you played with all day. 

Until you didn't return and the night set in the forest. 

The day she vanished, and you were left alone at the cabin, unable to remember what happened. 

"This time, there is no one stopping us from exchanging our names. I'll be yours, and you'll be mine, just like we promised years ago," Malleus announced. "Tell me. Tell me your name."

A very bad feeling overcame you as his hand lifted from your mouth, and you pressed your lips shut, the sticky sweetness of the grapes grasping its greedy claws into your brain, fogging it again. You caught yourself wondering what would be so bad about telling him. That it would be okay, if it was Malleus, right? He should know; he was your husband, after all. 

"Tell me your name," he demanded again, sounding more forceful this time. 

Don't tell him! the voice of your mother rang out in your mind, it was like a scream, one you had heard before. Before, when she interrupted the ceremony. That's right! You were about to marry the fae, telling him your name, when she came running, breathless and panicked, pulling you against her chest and screaming in a language you didn't understand. There had been hissing all around you, and then she was gone, screaming at you to run. 

"No…" you mumbled, furrowing your brows. "I won't."

And with that, you turned, your legs staggering but quickly catching themselves as you suddenly sprinted off in the opposite direction. Somewhere, anywhere. As long as you got away, you'd be safe. You had been before and you would be again as long as you made it until sunrise, your mother had made sure. You simply needed to avoid him until then, and everything would be fine–

With a shriek, your body plummeted to the ground. You felt the tight wrapping of vines around your ankle before you saw them, instinctively kicking at them with your other foot. Panic set in as the vines seemed to avoid every one of your kicks, and you grew more desperate by the second.

"You won't escape. Not this time. Not. Again!" 

Looking up, you watched helplessly as Malleus closed the distance, his body convulsing in a strange manner, blurring the lines of his form as his body seemed to disperse into shadows. Scales appeared on his skin, reflecting and shimmering in the moonlight. He looked more and more like a creature from the nightmares you often had rather than the handsome appearance he had shown himself to you. It only proved that the game was over for him, that he was determined to have you this time. 

Because you knew his name. You held the power over him until he knew yours, too. 

"Mall–" you started to say, realizing what you had to do. But with an inhuman screech, he reached for you, holding your mouth shut. The air was pressed out of your body as you were pinned to the ground, more vines wrapping around your limbs until they held you down tightly, the fae cowering above you, his eyes having turned as black as his hair. 

"Do not even try, human!" he spat, knowing fully well what you were about to do.

For a short second, he released your mouth, and you gasped for air, stupidly giving him the chance to push a handful of grapes into your mouth. "What's your name?" he repeated his question, making sure you had no choice but to chew the grapes as he covered your mouth and pinched your nose. You struggled against the vines but couldn't move an inch, growing more desperate as time passed by, your jaw tensing until it happened: the first grape popped. And once it started, your body was uncontrollable, chowing down on all of them while tears began to form in your eyes. You couldn't stop, even if you wanted to, your mind falling into addiction as the sweetness overcame you. It washed through you alongside his magic, and before long, you were licking at your lips and his palm for more. 

More, which Malleus provided. 

He might have been impatient, but he fed you the whole vine of grapes in his possession, his body turning back into a solid form and the tendrils around your limbs disappearing as you reached for him, licking his fingers for more of the grape juice as if possessed by the desire to eat. Your mind was rapidly losing the battle, rationality thrown out of the window as you crawled towards Malleus, eating the fruit he so readily provided to you, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you succumb to the fae magic. 

Until there were only two grapes left, and you mewled, reaching for them like an impatient toddler. 

"First!" he announced, holding the grapes up into the air and far away from you. After all, he was so much bigger than you. "What's your name, my love?" 

Your name? Pff, that was easy! "It's [Name]," you responded, happily watching as he lowered his hand again, feeding you one of the grapes. It tasted heavenly, much like the others before but even better! Perhaps because it was given to you by your husband—then again, he had given you all of them.

Why did you ever resist? 

A man who loved you for years, took away the loneliness, and gave you food without you having to work yourself to the bone. He waited years until you'd make a mistake that would finally return you to him. That's how much he loved you and how dedicated he was to you. And he could provide for you, having shown you his home and the abundance of happiness there all those years ago! Unlike your mother, who had left you alone, he had waited and desired nothing more than to be with you. You were stupid not to give him what he wanted from the beginning. After all, Malleus loved you. 

"I love you," he whispered. "Now, we'll be together forever, living happily until the end of our days."

Your lips widened into a big smile. It was all you had ever wanted. Someone to be with, who loved you, who'd care for you. Take away the loneliness and replace it with an unfiltered, passionate love that goes far beyond that of mere humans. This way, you'd be happy. You'd be taken care of and loved. 

Tears fell from your eyes as you nodded, agreeing all too readily. "I look forward to it!"

"But first," Malleus stopped you, tapping your nose affectionately. "A kiss to seal the deal."

Popping the last grape between his lips, your eyes fixated on it hungrily, wanting nothing more than to tear it from him and satisfy your own desire. Because it's what the fae did, right? Give the humans what they want in exchange for their very being. No one returned from the fae world, because they were happy there. Maybe you'd even meet your mother again! You'd be a good spouse, one that Malleus had waited for so long. You two would be happy together, just like he promised on your wedding day!

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you drew in close, pressing your lips to his and feeling the fruit splash open between your mouths, coating both of you in its juices. Malleus lapped them up just as hungrily as you did, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste more of it, and you allowed it, finally ready to let him take what he wanted. 

"Mine," he grunted against your lips. "Finally mine."

You were overcome by happiness as you heard him say that, only wishing the tears would stop so you could see him better. Behind you, the sun began to rise, and Malleus's arms wrapped around you, drawing you against his chest but never stopping the kiss. Your tears began to burn against your skin, making you wonder why you couldn't just be happy, why your own happy tears had to sting so much, feeling like needles as they ran down your cheeks. 

Lifting you up and turning around, you watched the sunrise as Malleus carried you back into the forest, towards his home. Somehow, the sight of the glowing light felt like betrayal. But you didn't remember why. 

"Let's go home," Malleus mumbled, finally breaking the kiss. "We have to make up for a lot of missed time."

You nodded, glancing back only once into the beautiful sun before your bodies slowly disappeared into the dark forest. And with them, the memories of the life you lived until now, all your thoughts replaced by Malleus and the sweetness of his kiss. 

Interested in commissioning me for a story? Click here to see all the information!

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch (Cartoon), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: CT-9901 | Hunter, Omega (Star Wars: The Bad Batch), CT-9904 | Crosshair, CT-9903 | Wrecker, CT-21-0408 | CT-1409 | Echo, CT-9902 | Tech, Rebels (Star Wars) - Character Additional Tags: Post TBB S3, Clone Rebel Era, AU, Lost and Found, Family Feels, Time Jump, CT-9902 | Tech Lives, Angst and Hurt/Comfort Series: Part 16 of Tales from Pabu, Part 2 of Rex’s Rebel Force, Part 15 of Techtober, Part 1 of Tech Tuesday Summary: They Rebels have found something interesting. Or rather, someone's interesting. Especially a certain someone to the Bad Batch.

 Part of Tales from Pabu / Rex’s Rebellion / Tech Tuesday / TechTober series

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.6k

part 2 here

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment block. Though it feels more accurate to say he’s an occasional visitor. He comes and goes, like a lost spirit, unsure and aimlessly wandering. He slinks silently through the hallways like a wraith in the few instances when he is there. 

The first time you see him is just a glimpse from the corner of your eye, a large hulking shadow standing at the door next to your apartment as you step out from yours. 

Your feet stutter to a stop, the landlord had mentioned a neighbour but in the 3 months you’d lived there you’d never seen him. As if sensing your eyes lingering curiously on his form, deep brown eyes turn to meet yours. You can make out no other details of his face, the black material of his balaclava obscuring most of his features. 

A century could have passed in those few seconds and you doubt you’d have noticed. Despite the weariness in his gaze, you found yourself pulled into the deep pools of those stunning eyes. Like a predator, his gaze never moves from your body, even as you offer him a friendly smile and wave before walking down the hall to continue your day. 

You’d heard the uneasily whispered tales of the Ghost that haunted the apartment next to yours from some of the older tenants, though you’d never put much stock into the idle gossip. His burning gaze bores into your back and follows until the doors of the elevator close and you suppose you should feel intimidated. 

It’s hard to conjure up any such feelings, even with the knowledge of the wariness he elicits in others. It’s hard to fear the hulking figure of the Ghost when he had such sad eyes. 

He hid it well but you recognised the loneliness that lined his shoulders, the bone-deep exhaustion for life that managed to slip through tiny cracks in his self-imposed shield. 

You suppose at that moment that even Ghosts can be haunted. 

Maybe that’s why you found yourself knocking on his door later that evening with the tray of pasta bake. Initially, you’d made a large batch to have a few days left over for yourself. Yet just as you opened your fridge you’d hesitated, mind flashing to the man next door. Did he have any food for himself? There was likely nothing fresh, and he’d seemed too exhausted to pull himself to the grocery store during the brief encounter earlier. 

Donning your Crocs, you’d marched over and knocked on his door before it properly registered that you were in pyjamas. The door swings open and your eyes trail up, the balaclava is gone, replaced with a simple black face mask letting you glimpse blond hair. 

“Sorry if this is a bit intrusive, but I figured you probably didn’t have any food so…” you trailed off, pushing the tray towards him, expectantly waiting for him to grab it. It took a few seconds before he robotically took the tray, probably out of sheer confusion more than anything else. Stepping back before he could return the food you offered one last smile before fleeing to the sanctuary of your apartment. 

Two days later you exit your apartment to an empty and cleaned tray, a small note with a simple ‘thank you’ placed within. 

His name’s Simon, and apart from an introduction and the occasional dish left at his door, you don’t actually interact with him again until nearly a month later. And that had simply been a case of forced proximity a la broken elevator style. 

Simon remained unflappable as ever, and it’s at that moment you decide to try and get a reaction that isn’t stoic silence. 

“A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and …cola” Brown eyes turned to look at you curiously, brow raised to let you know he was listening. “Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.” 

The joke doesn’t land, silence is the only reward for your comedy genius. “Ok, playing hardball. Alright then… Why did Susan fall off the swings?” Again, there is no answer, but a glance at his relaxed posture indicates he’s listening. “Because she had no arms.” 

No laugh but you blaze ahead. 

“Knock knock.” It takes a few seconds but with a playful glare, he responds quietly and with a tinge of amusement. 

“Who’s there?” It’s not the first time you’ve heard his voice, but it still births a serious case of butterflies in your gut that takes more than a few seconds to fight down and regain your composure. 

“Not Susan.” You can’t stop the peal of your giggles at that one, and while you swear you see the corner of his cheek curve upwards a little it’s not enough for you to be satisfied. 

“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I guess it’s time for the big guns. You better prepare yourself Riley 'cause I’m done holding back.” You pause for a few seconds to let the anticipation settle. 

“What is… Whitney Houston’s favourite type of coordination?” You take a deep breath before positively belting out, “HAAAAAAAND-EEEEEYE.” Whether it’s the shock from the sudden musical number or the joke itself you’re finally rewarded with a faint chuckle. 

“Aha!” you shout in triumph, a smug grin splitting your face, “I heard that laugh, you can do more scowl!”

The doors suddenly open with a ding and Simon pushes off the wall, but not before rolling his eyes playfully your way. Silence once again descends during the walk to your respective apartments, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Swiping your key card it’s just as you step through the threshold that you hear it, 

“Why did the chicken go the seance? To get to the other side.” Whipping your head around, you are met with the sight of his door closing behind his large frame, but a win is a win and you celebrate mentally over the exchange. 

The next time you leave a dish at his door it comes with a written joke. Sure enough, a few days later you received one back. The months start to blur, and your Ghost comes and goes, but the jokes remain. 

Month three sees you snagging his number, a daily joke sent his way even when he can’t respond. Because as much as Simon Riley tried to hide his hurts from the world, he couldn’t hide them from you. 

You’ve loved a soldier before in your brother, can see the signs and smell the gunsmoke and blood from miles away. Apart from his team, it becomes obvious the man has nobody left, and believes he doesn’t deserve to be cared for.

You’re not foolish enough to think you can be that for him, but you are understanding enough to give him the choice. So you continue to send him jokes, puns, pictures of your cat Bingbong and anything that you think will get him to at least smile.  

Three months turns to six turns to eight. He’s not physically there most of the time but you take every opportunity he is to coax him from the loneliness of his apartment like a stray kitten.

Once-a-week dinners at least. Freely sharing your life’s story without expecting anything in return. One evening you’d plopped your chunky tuxedo cat down on his lap and watched him freeze, hands hovering with wide eyes as he considered the ball of fur making biscuits on his thigh. 

It was cute. He was cute. Even when he whipped around to glare when you took a photo, the corners of his lips downturned and tugged at the scars on his face. His bare face wasn’t necessarily a new sight but it causes your breath to hitch nonetheless. 

Something you think he notices given the way his lips quirked up suddenly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes you huffed before plonking yourself down next to him on the couch. Bingbong doesn’t scramble onto your lap like you expect, instead deciding to remain on his new favourite human, traitor. 

You pay very little attention to the movie even though you’d chosen it, too acutely focused on the large bulk of Simon next to you. Your shoulder rests against his arm, his body heat emanating from beneath his hoodie and absorbing into your skin. 

You’ve never been one to fall asleep during movies, but there’s something about Simon’s presence that soothes you, lulling you into a restful slumber as you slump against his chest. Bingbong meows his discontent as you accidentally squish him, jumping away with a huff, none of which you notice. 

It’s the sun shining straight onto your face through the open blinds that wakes you the next morning, a groan of confusion leaving your lips as you stretch and look around to orient yourself. 

Sitting up, the blanket that you just now realised covered your form fell down to your waist. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes your phone falls to the floor when you stand, the screen flicking on to display the time. 

It’s not until you sleepily stumble into your bedroom, plugging your nearly dead phone in and face-planting onto your pillow that you realise Simon must have tucked you in. The smile that covers your face is so wide it is painful and you fall asleep once more, dreaming of the phantom sensation of his arms wrapped around you.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH1

Sometimes, Mommy and Daddy don't see eye to eye with how they handle their little girl: you. After Mommy disciplines you for a clumsy mistake and its aftermath, Daddy comes to comfort you, and you show him just how thankful you are.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Dd/Md/lg dynamics, Daddy/Mommy kink. Age gap. Size difference. Pet names. Love triangle. Hurt/Comfort. Implied caning. Aftercare. Cock worship. Oral sex, deepthroating attempt. Hand job. Dry humping. Fluff. (More notes below the cut!)

WORDS: 7k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: Reader (we call her pumpkin) is in her 20s, Mommy and Daddy are in their early and late thirties. Everything's more or less consensual. There's a bit of backstory for Reader (who basically suffers from depression and anxiety), but other than that, she's pretty neutral (only attributes she has are: hair long enough to braid and female genitalia, and she's bisexual or at least bi-curious, and leans more to the submissive side of things). Also this may not be your typical little girl story as I'm not that much into ageplay, so this will be a wild mix of different elements of the Dd/lg dynamic with a good dose of Dom/sub, a bit of the Good cop/Bad cop trope (Daddy being the soft!Dom, while Mommy has a darker side), lots of F/F and F/M (and F/F/M) intimacies, and more. If you're open for anything, this may be a story for you! (READ THIS if you're curious/wondering about the tags I listed this under!)

🔷️ Chapter 1 🔷️ Chapter 2

You toss and turn in your bed, unable to find a comfortable position. Your butt hurts, as red and tight as it is, but you try to fight any new batch of tears that comes when you think back to how you got into this predicament. The worst part is the disappointment crashing through you, the anger at yourself, for not being a good girl.

Before you can fall deeper into your dark thoughts, your bedroom door opens. You stiffen, holding your breath, biting your lip as you listen intently. The door shuts again, before footsteps come closer. But as soon as the edge of your bed dips by someone sitting down, you turn around and pull the covers down, chewing on your bottom lip as you look up at the figure leaning over you, his big frame illuminated by the little night light on your bedside table.

“How's my baby girl?” His low voice immediately calms you, and you wriggle out from under your blanket to sit up and throw your arms around the tall man's neck. He catches you and holds you tightly, sighing deeply. “Mommy told me she had to discipline you today. She got you good, hm?”

You hum into his shoulder. “But I deserved it...” you mumble under your breath, clinging to him desperately, ignoring the sting of your bruised buttocks as you squirm on your knees.

“Yeah? What did you do?” he asks quietly, rubbing his large hand over your back.

“I... I made cookies,” you stammer, inhaling deeply, before the words just tumble out of you with haste. “But when I... when I wanted to pull them out of the oven, I tripped and dropped them and then... then... the tray fell onto the counter and... and smashed one of Mommy's herb pots. There was such a mess...”

“Oh pumpkin,” he sighs, squeezing you a little more. “That was just bad luck, wasn't it?”

“Yeah... I... I didn't mean to do that! You gotta believe me, Daddy!” you mumble, still holding onto him and hiding against his neck.

“I do, baby girl. But we gotta work on your clumsiness. You gotta be more careful, okay?”

You nod against him, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Say it.”

“I... I will be more careful. I promise,” you say quietly. “I never wanna see Mommy so angry again...”

A hum escapes him. “What did she give you?”

You squirm on your knees, rubbing against him to keep your butt from touching your heels. “Twenty hits...”

“With what?”

A shiver crashes through you. “The cane.”

“Oh sweetie, I'm sorry,” he tells you, hugging you tighter, one of his hands moving lower until he teases at your burning cheeks. “That sounds a bit excessive for a simple act of clumsiness. I guess I gotta talk to Mommy, hm?”

“No! It's okay, Daddy! Don't fight with her, please. I deserved it, it's okay. I took it like a big girl, she said so,” you say quickly, finally leaning back to look up at him, your hands kneading his wide shoulders. He gives you a warm smile, caressing the back of your head with the hand that's not palming at your ass.

“I'm sure you did, pumpkin. Can I see?” he then asks, tilting his head at you.

You bite your lip, but nod quickly. Climbing off his lap, you get off the bed and pull your oversized sleeping shirt over your head before you bend down, leaning on your hands, showing him your welted backside (it hurt too much to put on panties, so you just left them). He stands too and walks behind you, his hands moving along your hips before you feel his fingertips along the red lines covering your rear.

“She must have really loved that herb pot, huh?” he muses, and you flinch badly when he presses his palm against your left ass cheek, your blood thrumming just beneath the surface, warming even more under his touch. “This is too much,” he adds under his breath. “I'd given you five, max, and definitely not with the cane...”

He then grabs your waist and pulls you back up, slowly turning you around, watching you closely. “Did you clean up after yourself?”

You nod furiously. “Of course, Daddy. I cleaned the whole kitchen. I was sad about the cookies... I made them for you, you know, your favorite kind? But I had to throw them away because there was dirt all over them...”

Warmth floods his dark eyes, and he leans in to pull you against his chest. “You'll make another batch, don't worry,” he says soothingly.

You hug him tightly, pressing your whole body into his. “I'm sorry I wasted so much stuff. I guess that's also why Mommy was so furious... I did such a mess and nothing came out of it...”

“Stop,” he says sternly, leaning you back by your shoulders. His eyes bore into yours. You swallow thickly. “You received your punishment. It's done. You will not cry about spilled milk, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip. He raises an eyebrow, and you stop the nervous motion, pressing your lips together.

“What did you learn from this?”

“I... I should be more careful. I will not waste any food. I will ask for help if I can't do something on my own. I... I shouldn't get overwhelmed and make an even bigger mess...” you add in a breathy whisper. He nods to your words, a small smile playing around his lips.

You stare at him for a moment, mesmerized by his handsome face. There's a dimple on his cheek as the smile deepens, and creases in the corners of his eyes as he watches you. He's so pretty, you think as you feel a familiar tension settling in your lower stomach. I'm so lucky he's here for me.

“So you made me cookies, pumpkin?” he whispers as he crouches down in front of you, his hands rubbing along your arms until he grabs your hands and cradles them in his large palms. You nod, smiling shyly. “The ones with peanut butter?” You nod again, your smile growing bigger. He smirks at you. “The ones Mommy hates and can't eat?”

You freeze, your smile vanishing instantly. Your lips move to form a silent Oh. He leans in and brushes his lips to your forehead. “I... I forgot...” you mumble, feeling tears burn in your eyes.

“Might explain why she was so angry, hm?” he muses, shuffling closer until he can throw his arms around your shoulders and pull you against him. “Don't worry about it, baby girl, she'll calm down again. I'll talk to her. Maybe there was more afoot than meets the eye.”

You hug him back slowly, unable to hide the tears anymore as a quiet sob escapes you. He shushes you, rubbing your back. “I'm sorry, Daddy. I never meant to cause trouble...”

“I know you didn't, baby,” he says quietly. “You've been such a good girl for us, since the day you moved in. You adjusted so well. I'm really proud of you, you know?”

Another sob slips from your trembling lips, and you try to hide it by burying your face in his chest. He holds you tighter, a deep sigh ringing in your ears. “C-can you –” you start, your voice breaking mid-question.

“Hm?”

“Can you stay here tonight?” you ask quietly, your heart beating faster.

“Are you sure, pumpkin? Won't you be in pain?” he whispers, moving his hand along the back of your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair.

“It'll be better when you're here,” you reply, leaning against him. “But... but I understand if you... if you don't want to... or... or if Mommy asked first...”

“She didn't,” he says. “But I gotta talk to her first. We don't want to disrupt her punishment, right, darling? If I stay here, she might see that as a reward you don't deserve.”

“You... you could... you know...” you stammer, your cheeks burning up badly as you cling to him, your heart beating even faster as you try to word your wishes.

“What, baby girl? Use your words.”

“You... you don't have to be gentle with me, you know? You could punish me too. For... for not giving you the cookies I promised you...”

A laugh rings in your ears. “But you never promised me anything. I can't be mad if a surprise you planned didn't work out, can I? And you know, if you ask for punishment... that's not really punishment after all. Is it, pumpkin?”

“No,” you mutter, pressing your forehead into his shoulder. “I guess not...”

“Unless you want me to punish you for being too needy. Are you too needy, sweet girl?” he asks quietly, slowly letting go of you.

When you meet his gaze, your face is flushed, your stomach tense, that throb between your legs almost as bad as the stinging in your tight butt cheeks. “Maybe...” you press out, chewing on your lips.

His smile turns slightly more sinister at your reply. You watch him lick his lips, a motion that holds you captive for a moment, before he leans in and grabs your upper arms.

“Tell me why you're here,” he then says, his eyes never leaving yours.

You swallow, wet your suddenly dry lips. “B-because I... because I needed a Daddy... and a... Mommy... someone to tell me what to do... someone to help me... someone to be there for me... so I'm not alone...”

He listens closely, his hands tightening around your biceps. “And what did we want in return, baby girl?”

“Me... whenever you want... however you want...” you whisper, barely audible as you stare back at him, your mind already emptying as you repeat the words he drilled into you.

Letting go of your arms, he stands up again, towering over you as he nods slightly. “We gave you a home, you gave us your body. Is that a good deal, baby?”

You frown slightly, licking your lips. “Yes?” you whisper, not sure what he wants to hear from you.

His eyes narrow a little. Your mind is reeling as you watch him, before you fall to your knees in front of him, your hands holding onto the stiff fabric of his pants as you tilt your head back to look up at him.

“Yes, Daddy, it's a good deal. I wanna make you feel good because you make me feel good. I wanna be a good girl for you, and for Mommy, because you've been so good to me. I... I will not be needy, only when you want me to be.”

As you stumble over your words, his eyes move over your flushed face. He listens patiently, and by the end of your ramble, he's smiling down at you.

“Get up,” he says softly, holding out his large hand to you.

You grab it, or rather close your hand around his index finger as you pull yourself up. He's so tall and big, so strong, intimidating, and yet you feel safe just looking at him. His free hand finds your cheek, his thumb pressing down on your bottom lip.

“Listen up, kid,” he starts, and you nod, holding his gaze as you part your lips and let him put his digit on your tongue. “I will not spend the night with you. No, don't pout, listen. But I want you to come to us later tonight and give your Mommy a good time, okay? She'll appreciate it if you show a little initiative. And if you've been a good girl, I'll give you a reward too, how does that sound?”

You smile around his thumb in your mouth, nodding enthusiastically. He pulls it from between your tight lips and raises his eyebrows. “Yes, Daddy, I'll do that. I'll be your good girl. I'll give Mommy a good time,” you whisper hectically.

He gives you a soft pat to the cheek, before he takes a step back and looks you up and down for a moment, his eyes raking over your naked body. You've long overcome the embarrassment of being in the nude around him (or Mommy). It feels natural now.

“I really don't like it when Mommy is mad at you, pumpkin,” he says quietly, silently giving you a sign to turn around. You do, holding his gaze for as long as you can before you spin slowly and present your backside to him once more. “I had plans for tonight. But maybe I can still make them happen, hm?”

You feel him walking closer, his hands on your shoulders, his short fingernails scraping over your skin as they move down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His breath ghosts your shoulder blade as he crouches down behind you, causing you to shiver. You squeeze your thighs together and hold your breath, trying to show him how absolutely not needy you are. You probably fail miserably. He can always see right through you.

A sudden yelp escapes you when his hand comes into contact with your bruised ass cheek, a soft slap that brings the pain back under your skin. You whimper, trying to remain calm as you stand there for his inspection. “I really don't know why Mommy is so fixated on using the cane. I don't like seeing you like this, baby girl. Did she make you come while she did it?”

“No,” you breathe, your head spinning as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Hmm,” he hums darkly, his big hands gently cupping your glutes, giving them a subtle squeeze. “Do you want to come now?”

Your breath hitches, but you see through his question immediately. You weren't always that quick about it. “No, Daddy, I don't deserve it, I haven't been a good girl,” you reply quietly, your hands clenching into fists at your sides.

He traces the throbbing lines on your ass, making you squirm against his touch. “Too bad,” he sighs, his fingers teasing between your cheeks, giving both of your holes a little prod that really makes you fight not to react. “Did she give you something to put on here?” he then asks, his hands moving down your legs now.

“No,” you whisper through clenched teeth. “She said it didn't look too bad, and the blows weren't that hard to begin with. And there was no blood...”

He sighs again, standing up, and before you know it, he turns you around, grabs your waist and flings you over his shoulder. You squeak in surprise, your hair falling over your head as you cling desperately to the back of his shirt. His large hand holding onto your calves, he carries you into your ensuite bathroom and rummages through the medicine cabinet above the sink.

“I swear, this woman has a scar kink,” he mutters darkly, more to himself, before he gives your thighs a gentle rub. “Nothing warrants permanent damage to your beautiful skin, pumpkin,” he tells you quietly as he moves out of the bathroom again.

He puts you down carefully, then sits down on the edge of your bed, patting his lap. You follow the hint quickly and drape yourself over his thighs, stomach pressing into his leg as you brace yourself. “But she said –”

“She definitely broke your skin a few times, baby, she wasn't perfectly honest with you. I really need to talk to her, this isn't acceptable. Hold still now,” he says, and you feel him fumbling with something before his hands move over your warm butt cheeks. At first it's cold, then it stings, and you suck in a sharp breath as you claw your hands into his pants, a little whimper escaping you.

He keeps rubbing whatever ointment he found onto your bruised skin, and once he's done, your head is spinning and a few tears have rolled down your cheeks. But you've endured, like the big girl you are. He pulls you onto your feet then, watching you closely before he wipes at your wet face.

“How about you get a good night's sleep now, hm, sweetheart?” he says softly, giving you a small smile as you scrunch your nose when he boops it playfully. “Let's push our plan to tomorrow. You can surprise Mommy then, okay? I'll help you make breakfast, and then you'll give her a good time. Remember, she is not a bad person, even if she has her weak moments. I'll find out what bugged her today, don't worry. Trust me, it was not your fault,” he adds, cupping your face to pull you closer to him.

You chew on your bottom lip, watching him. “But –”

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. You freeze and blink at him, more tears burning in your eyes. “You dropped some cookies and smashed some plants, baby, that doesn't justify twenty cane hits. She was taking something out on you, and that's not right. Stop worrying now, okay, darling?”

You sniffle, nodding to his words. Moving one hand to your lower back, he nudges you closer until he can press his lips to your forehead. Your fingers twitch before you find the courage to grab the front of his shirt, leaning against him. “Are you mad at her?” you mumble as he pulls one arm around you.

“Well, maybe a little. But don't worry your pretty little head, sweetie, you know we have our ways of dealing with pent-up emotions.”

His reply sends a shiver down your spine. Oh you know that, you've heard it many times, how they deal with stress and anger. If you wouldn't get out-of-your-mind aroused by the noises coming from their shared bedroom, you'd be terrified by them. You remember watching them once, unintentionally, but they did leave the door open, and what you saw still haunts you in your dreams sometimes.

They can play rough with you too, but how they treat each other (when they think nobody is watching) is really something you don't want to experience first-hand, ever. It's brutal, but it does seem to calm them in the end. It's a strange dynamic, but you've known that since you moved in with them so many months ago.

Before you can think back to how it all started, you feel a big hand grabbing your chin, making you look up. You meet Daddy's dark eyes, the intensity in them making you squirm immediately as your core starts throbbing even more. You blink a few times, focusing back on him.

“How do you feel now, pumpkin?” he asks quietly, watching you closely.

“Better,” you whisper back, smiling shyly. “Thank you, Daddy.”

A smirk lets the corner of his mouth twitch. “You wanna show Daddy how thankful you are?”

Heat crashes into your face. Averting your eyes for a moment, you nod timidly, your fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. “C-can you... uh... can you lie down for it, Daddy?” you ask barely audible, still not looking at him.

He considers your request. You know he prefers to have you on your knees in front of him, but since he knows about the pain in your butt, he seems to accept your words. Well, in his way. “Look at me,” he tells you. “Look at me and tell me what you want to do.”

You swallow hard, inhaling deeply, before you look at him, immediately mesmerized by the hunger in his eyes. “I... I want to show you... how thankful I am... by... by...” You bite your lip, frowning, fighting against voicing the things you have no problem doing, but putting them into words, saying them out loud, is still not easy for you.

“Come on, baby, use your words.” His voice is calm and comforting, never condescending, but you still feel a tight knot forming in your stomach.

You exhale loudly through your nose, blinking, your eyes flicking over his face. “I... I wanna showyouhowthankful Iambysuckin'yourcock,” you press out, your words fast and barely coherent.

The grip on your chin tightens, his thumb and forefinger pressing into your jaw. “Again, slower. No need to be ashamed, pumpkin. It's completely natural. Just say the words, I know you can do it.”

You swallow again, furrowing your eyebrows as you look at him. “I want to... no, I'd like to... suck your –” You inhale deeply. “– cock, Daddy, because... because I am really thankful that you are... here for me...” Your voice is still quiet, but you get the words out, and even though your cheeks burn up badly, you feel some sort of accomplishment when he nods and smiles at you.

“Good girl,” he praises and stands up, letting go of you, and you smile back shyly. “Alright, let me get comfortable then, hm?”

You watch him opening his belt, his long fingers moving lower to continue on the button and zipper with ease and confidence. He winks at you when he pushes his pants down his hips and steps out of them (his dark boxer briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide the obvious bulge), before he pulls his shirt over his head and sits down on the bed, scooting back to the headboard, his long legs stretched out. Tilting his head, he gives you a gentle nod, and you follow him immediately, crawling between his legs, trying to keep the pressure off the tight skin of your ass.

He crooks a finger at you, smiling wider, and before you focus on the task at hand, you clamber over him and bring your face to his. He grabs your chin and pulls you the rest of the way, pressing his lips firmly against yours, his eyes hooded but still as intense as he watches you. When he licks at the seam of your mouth, you open it and let his tongue in, quickly meeting it with your own as he deepens the kiss. Your eyelids flutter, as does your stomach, and the more you feel his warm mouth on yours, the calmer you get, ready to take on what lies ahead.

Not that you dread it. On the contrary. You meant it when you said you wanted to. Since you moved in with Mommy and Daddy, you've learned two very fool-proof ways of shutting your nagging mind off: one – by giving up complete control when either (or both) of them uses you, and two – by focusing all your energy on the pleasure of someone else. It's a strange thrill knowing that it was your mouth and hands (and body) that brought them to their peak. Seeing that relaxed expression, the bliss in their eyes, the little noises they issue, it's a joy in and of itself.

While you don't particularly care if you have a cock in your mouth or your tongue in a cunt, you do prefer hearing Daddy's noises. Mommy is never shy to scream it into the heavens when she is satisfied, Daddy usually keeps to himself, always focused on you (or Mommy), he would grunt and groan, sure, issuing sounds of effort when he'd fuck you (or Mommy) senseless, but when you give him head, when he relaxes into your ministrations, he really lets go, letting it all out, and hearing him moan while you work on his cock is the best thing ever.

The only thing that bugs you about this very special task that only you are allowed to perform on him (mainly because Mommy would probably bite off his dick instead of pleasuring him, she is rough like that), is that Daddy's cock is huge. In your eyes, anyway, maybe your mouth is also very small, but in comparison to the few dicks you've seen in the flesh in your life, he is definitely very well-endowed. And the problem with that is that you can't fit all of him into your mouth, or even down your throat, like you always try but are never able to.

Whenever you'd watch porn with him or Mommy, you find yourself getting envious of the women being able to deepthroat any cock they've encountered, mostly even without gagging, while you feel like you are dying when he is just bumping the back of your throat. You want to make him happy, because he makes you happy, but you've still failed many times. Though despite it all, you've kept going, learning to pleasure him with the means you are given, knowing it'd impress him all the same.

He's been so patient with you, letting you get accustomed with his cock, letting you try things out, soothing you when you thought you failed, encouraging you when you almost had it. It's the praise and the smell and feel and taste of his cock that makes you continue on your journey to become the best cocksucker this man has ever seen. And you'd bet that list is very long, and getting to the top surely feels like mastering a craft you have barely any experience in.

But he taught you to never give up, not just in sexual aspects, but in life. You owe him so much. It seems a small task to fight that gag reflex over and over again. And if you still manage to get him off and hear those sweet moans, it is all worth it anyway.

It's you who has to force yourself away from Daddy's lips and focus on what's waiting for you further below. He watches you as you brush your lips down his neck and over his collarbones, focusing on peppering small kisses on his pecs, relishing in the little shivers you cause by flicking your tongue around his nipples. You keep looking up at him from under your lashes, wanting to see all the small reactions, and when he shoots you a smile, one that goes straight to your throbbing cunt, you smile back shyly and keep kissing down his stomach.

It's always a pleasure to just explore his body like this, taking your time, letting him watch, and him letting you do whatever you want. The trust you developed in just a few months is remarkable. But he (and Mommy) have made it so easy for you to let go, to let things happen, to be bold enough to chase what you desire. It wasn't always easy to voice it, but sometimes actions spoke louder than words, and they both accepted that about you. (Mostly. Daddy still often trains you like he did earlier.)

Inhaling deeply, you finally focus fully on your self-proclaimed want, trying to shut out thoughts and memories, being in the moment. It's easy enough once you reach the trail of coarse hair vanishing under the soft fabric of his boxer briefs. There you linger a little longer, lips pressed to his warm skin, tingling under the scratch, his scent filling your nostrils. It's certainly a strange thing to admit, but one of your happy/safe places is indeed his crotch.

Months ago you were not even aware of having an oral fixation, but it quickly came to you how calm you became once you could suck on a thumb or had fingers in your mouth, or best case scenario could suckle on a cock for hours on end. It was mostly Daddy who gave you that peace of mind because it was so easy for you to let go with him, to let your guard down, to forget about the world.

It had been embarrassing at first, noticing your body's reactions (mostly how your saliva pooled on your tongue, how you literally started drooling as if you were a hungry dog), but now you embraced it. Licking your lips, trying to contain the need burning under your skin, you move your hands to hook your fingers around the waistband of his underwear, looking up once more before you're going to dive in. He gives you an encouraging nod, one of his arms bent behind his head, the other hand resting casually on his thigh.

Then you peel the last layer away, pushing his boxers down enough to let his cock spring free. An intimidating sight that couldn't be more intriguing to you. Your mind is already emptying, focused on the smell and feel and soon taste of him, your heart beating faster as your core throbs in anticipation. Your hands, so small, try to wrap around his shaft, picking him up. He's heavy in your grip, warm and already hardening.

You shift back on your knees, still aware of the burning skin on your rear, and lean down more to bring your lips to his tip. A few flicks of your tongue and he's already twitching into your hands, a deep inhale sounding from above. You smile against his cock as you press soft kisses along his shaft, moving your hands down to the base, one squeezing a little, the other pulling his underwear down more to get to his balls.

You give them a gentle massage, eager fingers digging into soft skin as you roll them in your palm (like stress balls, how Mommy once said when she taught you how to handle him correctly), while you continue to kiss and lick along his length, from the base all the way up to the tip. Bending over him, you focus your lips to the slit at the top, poking your tongue against it, giving it a little suck while your hands move back to push his tight skin up and down his hardened core.

His breathing gets a little louder, still no moans, but you'll get him there, and when you look up at him with your lips closed tightly around his tip, you see the focused look in his eyes, his holding-back face, and you smirk to yourself as you give him another suck and prod, watching the muscle in his jaw clench. As caring and easy-going as Daddy is with you, he is usually a serious man, hard working and intimidating, both in stature and demeanor, dominating in a way that silences the entire room, but when you have your mouth on him, that facade he tries to keep up is quickly crumbling.

And you revel in the power you have over this handsome, stoic man. You are his little girl after all, and that role quickly became exactly what you needed to be in life. It gave you strength and a purpose, knowing that he and Mommy both found comfort and peace in being with you, cuddling you, kissing you, fucking you. And it wasn't even that sexual in nature, not all the time, it was also freeing to let them dress you, brush your hair, to do what they told you.

It gave you time to explore yourself, what you wanted in life (beside being their little girl), and while you spend most of your time with them, in the few hours you are alone, you try out and explore as many hobbies as you can, the last one being baking, and while you failed today and paid the consequences, you usually quite enjoy it.

You hope Mommy's punishment won't affect your enjoyment, and you won't always have to expect pain whenever you make a mistake. Though you do wonder what made Mommy so mad. Daddy is probably right, there has to be more afoot.

You huff a deep breath against Daddy as you realize that your mind has wandered again. None of that. Stop it. Concentrate on him. This is for you to shut up that annoying brain of yours.

Blinking your eyes into focus, you let them wander up his torso. He looks at you, a bit of worry etched between his eyebrows. You feel his hand moving until his fingers brush against your hair, fingertips pressing softly into your scalp, both to comfort you and to push you a bit further onto his cock.

You take the hint and open your mouth a bit more, allowing more of him into it, while your hands move up and around his shaft, pulling and pushing his tight skin, feeling the thick veins throbbing against your palms. Your tongue licks around his tip, exploring the smooth mushroom shape and the ridges below, and when you angle your head a bit differently, you feel him pushing deeper, nudging right against the back of your throat.

Your stomach tenses, your breathing getting a bit more labored as you remember the last time you tried to shove him down your throat. You've been a sobbing mess covered in spit, terrified of choking on him. But you won't give up. And so you focus on swirling your tongue around what does fit into your mouth, lips tight around his warm skin, hands pumping and pumping the rest of him, and when you hollow your cheeks and suck, a twitch goes through his body, his hand tightening in your hair.

You keep going, encouraged by his reaction, starting to bob your head up and down until half of his cock is lathered in your saliva with a bit of drool running down your chin. Your fingers close around his shaft, giving him subtle squeezes, while your mouth is full of him. Instead of forcing him into spaces your body refuses to open to him, you turn your head and let him fill your cheeks, a pump left, a pump right, knowing he enjoys seeing the bulge of his cock under your skin (he especially enjoys the little bump in your stomach when he presses particularly deep or when Mommy tries one of her longer straps on you, literally rearranging your guts, and after being terrified of it the first few times, you've grown quite accustomed to seeing them deforming your body like that).

You keep nudging him into your cheek, sucking at the same time, your tongue pressed against his sensitive underside, and as you dare a look at him, you see him with his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling, lips parted, louder breaths slipping past them. “Just like that, pumpkin,” he rasps, his hand in your hair easing and tightening. “You're doing great.” He already sounds breathless, but it's not enough for you. You want to see him completely dissolve into pleasure.

So you bob faster, suck harder, squeeze him tighter. You even dare to prod him against the back of your throat again, your eyes watering at the sensation, your body shuddering, anticipating the worst, but you focus on seeing him so relaxed, that handsome man who trusts you so much, who lets go for you just as you let go for him.

Squeezing your eyes shut, ignoring the tears spilling past your lashes, you take a deep breath through your nose, forcing your tense muscles to ease up (which may sound counter-intuitive but somehow it works), and then, you lower your head, your hands tight around his shaft, holding him steady as you open your jaw and swallow him as much as you can. His tip slips past that point that usually makes you retch immediately, inch after inch, and you only convulse when he's really in there, so deep you can barely breathe, surprised and horrified at having his cock in your throat.

And then you gag, violently, your body jerking, and you pull back, spluttering, coughing, spit flying everywhere before you bury your flushed face in his thigh, trying to calm down. His hand eases down your nape.

“You okay down there, baby?” he whispers.

Your heaving breaths echo in your spinning head, and you feel shame flooding your body as more tears burn in your eyes. “S-sorry, Daddy,” you mumble, swallowing the excess spit, licking your soiled lips.

“It's fine, pumpkin,” you hear him say. “Don't stress about it. I told you you don't have to do that.”

“B-but I... I want to... I have to...” you whimper, cheek resting on his thigh, nose brushing against his cock still in your hands.

“You don't have to!”

You freeze, his harsher words ringing in your ears. “B-but...”

“Did Mommy tell you that?” he asks, and you feel him sitting up a little, his other hand finding your chin as he pulls you up again.

You look at him, vision blurry, your face wet, and when you try to wipe at it, he grabs your hand and puts it back around his cock before he wipes at your cheeks himself. “No, I just... I want to... everyone else can do it...” you murmur, averting your eyes.

“Everyone else? Who?”

“The... women in the videos...” you croak out, feeling even more embarrassed.

“Oh pumpkin,” he sighs, and you see him closing his eyes for a moment. “That is not everyone. Trust me, it's a rare gift to be able to deepthroat a cock. Don't believe for a second that every girl, every woman, hell, even every man out there would be able to do that. And if they can, it takes a lot of training to get to that point. You're not there, and you don't ever have to get there either! If Mommy told you –”

“She didn't!” you say quickly, biting your lip. “But she told me to watch... these videos... to get used to the idea of it...”

“Did she?” He exhales again, shakes his head. “Pumpkin, you are our little girl, not a porn actress we hired to perform some special tricks.” He shifts a bit more, spreading his legs to sit up and pull you up against him, his lips brushing against your temple. “Please keep your innocence, sweetheart. Don't force yourself to do things your body can't handle. It's okay not to be perfect. It's not a flaw!”

You lean into him, watching him as he talks, his words sinking in but you still feel as if you should be better, as if he expects more of you even though he says otherwise. His hand moves around your rear, brushing against the welts burned into your skin, reminding you of other things you're not good at. A few more tears spill from your eyes.

“Straddle my thigh, baby girl,” he then tells you, his gaze intense, dark.

You swallow, nodding as you blink the tears away. Shifting on the bed, you put one knee on either side of his leg (one of them nudging his groin), carefully sitting down on the bulk of his thigh. He grabs your hand and guides it back to his cock. You watch him move it up and down his shaft, curling your fist around his tip, his larger hand so big around yours.

It's almost an instinct to start grinding your bare crotch against his leg, slow little tilts of your hips, falling into the rhythm he sets with your hand. A familiar warmth settles low in your stomach, throbbing in your clit that catches on his skin with every backwards motion.

“Whatever you do, pumpkin,” he says softly, and you let his words sink in, spoken in that deep thrum of his voice that vibrates through your entire body, fueling the fire burning in your core. “I am proud of you. Because I know you are trying, you are trying harder than anyone I've ever met. You may not see it for yourself, but I can see the effort, the passion you put into everything you do. You are enough, baby girl, more than enough, you are my perfect little girl, our little girl, and yes, Mommy is proud of you too, even if she had a bad day today.

“You've come so far since you came to us, and you'll go even farther, I'm sure. So stop worrying, okay? You are so beautiful, so talented, so easy to be with. You make me incredibly happy,” he finishes softly, his hands moving up to cup your face as he pulls you towards him, your cunt still rubbing over his leg, your hand tight around his cock, moving seemingly on its own, as you focus on the soft expression in his eyes.

“Daddy,” you gasp.

He smiles, leaning in to nuzzle your nose. “I love you, pumpkin,” he breathes against you, his hands pulling you in until he captures your lips for a searing kiss. It's the combination of his words, the softness of them versus the demanding hold he has on you, the warmth of his body, the way his cock twitches in your hand, slick with his precum and your saliva, the heat burning in your core, your clit pulsing under the friction, and suddenly it all explodes into countless lights, like fireflies flickering at the edge of your vision.

You hiccup into his mouth when you come, body tensing before it relaxes into a wave of shudders, and he holds you, pulls you closer, his arm around you, his hand back on his cock, guiding yours, until he too shivers under the sensations crashing through him, one of those beautiful moans echoing in your ears. You hold each other as the waves of pleasure wash over you, your mind blissfully empty, except for one thing that slips from you like a little gasp as you break the kiss and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Love you too, Daddy.”

You've come a long way to be able to let go like this, to allow this man into your heart, to allow yourself to feel good. It isn't perfect yet, you still have a lot to learn, but compared to how it all started, how it has been before you met the most important people in your life (before Mommy and Daddy saved you), your life is nothing short of bliss now.

And you know it wasn't always like this...

🔷️ Chapter 1 🔷️ Chapter 2

End notes: Hello and welcome to yet another little smut story of mine! Thank you for giving it a chance! We start with an established relationship, and the next chapter will show how they met. Stay tuned!

By the way: the header images (are of course only to set the mood and not to depict any characters mentioned) show if Daddy or Mommy (or both) are present in the chapter, blue for Daddy, pink for Mommy. (Mommy was mentioned here, so only a little bit of pink.)

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: We dive into Reader's backstory and how she became Mommy and Daddy's little girl.

Not interested in Reader's backstory? Skip to chapter 3 here!

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[sunseed-fandump]

Jailhouse Rock

The kids make a new (and very questionable) friend.

AU: Bad Batch Word Count: 3,281

Well, it was official, this was the most awkward moment of Gingerbrave’s life.

The jail cell was a cramped little thing, definitely not something built with the idea of containing more than one prisoner, just like the jailhouse itself didn’t seem to be built with that many criminals in mind, as there was only one cell. He supposed it made sense that a small town in the middle of the desert wouldn’t expect too many criminals stopping by, let alone having the misfortune of all of them being caught at the same time. Yet here they were.

It wasn’t like they had wanted to get caught. This was actually one of the few times they had bothered to keep a low profile. They had stopped into town for supplies on their trip down the Pilgrim’s Path, and figured it would be best for their long journey to conserve their energy. Just get in, grab the stuff, toss the money on the counter, get out. Simple.

Then things got decidedly less simple when a couple of bounty hunters recognized the kids from their wanted posters. (When did those get printed? They looked so cool! Gingerbrave hoped he got to take one home to put up on his bedroom wall.) The scuffle resulted in a lot of property damage, Wizard getting a minor concussion, and all three kids getting hit with tranquilizer darts. Who the hell carries those around? Well, those guys, apparently.

An hour later found the trio waking up disoriented, disarmed, and awaiting transfer to the nearest Kingdom for processing. Oh, and they had a cellmate. A cellmate who seemingly hated their guts if the way she scowled at them from the other side of the tiny cell was any indication.

Resulting in the awkward stare-down that was currently happening. On his right, Wild Strawberry seemingly lost interest and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on her hood. Meanwhile to his left, Wizard had begun muttering something to himself. (A quick glance to the clock on the wall beyond the bars told Gingerbrave they probably had about an hour or two before Wizard started going off the deep-end due to withdrawal from his stupid staff. Gingerbrave couldn’t stand that parasite…)

Luckily, since he was undead, Gingerbrave didn’t have to blink, which meant he could literally stare at this weird angry lady all day if he wanted. He didn’t want to, though, so instead he tried to strike up a conversation.

“So, uh…” He scratched at the stitches on his neck. “What are you in for?”

The cookie’s scowl deepened. She was a spicy cookie if the red hair and strong scent was any indication. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she had a scar on her forehead. She was dressed in the traditional black-and-white striped outfit one typically associated with criminals. Gingerbrave wondered, when the sheriff came back, if they would be expected to get changed into something similar.

At the cookie’s lack of a response and neither of his friends lending him a hand, Gingerbrave decided to keep talking.

“Right. Anyway, I’m Gingerbrave, and these are my friends Wizard and Wild Strawberry—“ He was cut off by the other cookie’s very clipped response.

“I know who you are.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. It seemed that was all she felt like saying though as any attempt to talk to her earned the boy the cold shoulder.

Gingerbrave eventually figured she was a lost cause, and judging by Wizard starting to rock back and forth from where he was seated, he was beginning to head into the first stages. So it was time to get going.

“Alright, we’re gonna leave now.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before getting up from his seat and heading over to the front of the cell. He pressed his face up against the bars to get a better view of the hallway. He could just barely make out the sheriff’s office at the end of the hall. No doubt, that’s probably where their stuff was. Judging by how quiet it was, the sheriff was still out doing whatever it was that sheriffs did, which meant Gingerbrave had to be quick.

The boy tested the bars. Solid as a rock and he had neglected to bring any of his stronger arms with him. Unfortunate, but he’d have to work with it.

“Hey, Wizard,” Gingerbrave looked over to the shorter boy, who seemed to briefly snap out of whatever daze he had slipped into. “If I can get you your staff, could you get us out of here?”

“Yes!” He replied way too quickly, before shaking his head and rubbing at his temples. The migraine must have been setting in. “Yes, get me my staff and I can teleport us.”

“Sounds like a plan!” And without any hesitation Gingerbrave grabbed at his forearm just under the stitches on his left elbow, and snapped it off.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” The spicy cookie jumped back, clearly startled; all the color had drained from her face in an instant. All the kids laughed a little at her expense. (Even Strawberry, with a barely restrained ‘pfft!’)

“It’s fine! See?” The severed hand waved at her like nothing was wrong. “Watch this!” He gently set it down to the floor where, with a bit of awkward finagling he got it balanced on its fingers like a spider. He walked his hand out of the cell, slipping it between the bars, and all the cookies watched as it scuttled down the hall towards the office. Gingerbrave scrunched up his face in concentration, leaning the stub of his left arm out of the cell as far as it could go to help keep his hand within range. His spirit could stretch pretty far, but not forever, and he wanted to make sure he had full reign of the office.

Okay, that felt like the office chair. There’s the desk. He poked around a little to the right and hit a wall so maybe if he…

“Does that hurt…?” The spicy cookie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts briefly and the boy looked over his shoulder at her. Huh, that usually wasn’t the first reaction he got when severing his parts in front of new cookies. Usually it was fear, panic, and accusations of being a dough-eating monster, but this cookie’s initial surprise had melted into an emotion Gingerbrave wasn’t quite familiar with.

“Nah, they were made to come off.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before turning his attention back to feeling around the distant room. What was that? A bookshelf? Maybe he should try a few paces to the left.

The spicy cookie gave him an assessing look before turning her attention to the other two, specifically Wizard who was looking a little more harrowed than usual. “Yo, shortstack, you good?”

Gingerbrave snorted at the nickname. Oh! That felt like a chest! Maybe their stuff was in there but… it was locked. Rats. Then again, maybe the staff couldn’t fit? Probably best to be thorough.

“I’ll be fine once Gingerbrave gets my staff back.” Wizard said with a harrumph and a mutter of “I’m not short…”

“What’s the hold up? Any longer and Wizard is gonna start getting all freaky.” Strawberry asked, to which Gingerbrave huffed.

“I’m trying!! This would’ve been a lot easier if I was awake when we were brought in. Wizard, tell your stupid staff to be less stupid—!”

‘BANG!’

A screech ripped itself out of Gingerbrave when pain shot through his hand. He flung himself back from the bars, hitting the opposite wall and clutching at his stubby arm as if it would stop the pain. He heard a few exclamations of surprise from the cookies around him along with a horrified scream from down the hall followed by two more gunshots that (thankfully) missed their mark.

The sheriff was back and he just shot Gingerbrave in the hand.

His hand scuttled wildly around the office, blindly bumping into everything in an attempt to get to some kind of cover. Wild Strawberry had gotten up and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“He shot me…!” Gingerbrave bit out between clenched teeth just as a few more shots rang out, one of them glancing the boy’s dough.

“Screw this.” The spicy cookie flung herself at the cell door and after a few moments it popped open…

Wait, what?

“You could’ve done that this whole time?!” Strawberry voiced what Gingerbrave was in too much pain to say.

“Shut up and move!” Replied the other cookie who sprung out of the cell and down the hall. Wizard was right on her heels, no doubt seeing the opportunity to get his staff and not at all caring about the actively shooting lawman. Wild Strawberry called out to him, cursed under her breath when she was ignored, then grabbed Gingerbrave and hauled him out of the cell to give chase.

They arrived just in time to watch the spicy cookie deliver a round-house kick to the sheriff’s face, sending him flying back and hitting his head on the corner of the bookshelf, knocking him out cold.

“How could a cookie that moves so slow become sheriff? Can’t believe I let myself get caught by this moron…” she tsked and checked his pockets.

“There you are!” Wizard exclaimed happily before flinging himself at his staff that was propped up in an umbrella stand for some weird reason. He scooped it up into his hands, the tension practically melted from his body as he felt the staff’s familiar magic settle once more within his dough. “That fool didn’t shoot you, did he…? No?” He sighed in relief.

Gingerbrave looked at the scene with a small frown, but held his tongue. Instead he focused on trying to find his hand. He experimentally tapped his fingers against the nearest hard surface and cringed at the pain blossoming from his fresh wounds.

Wild Strawberry Cookie got down on her knees and checked under the desk when she heard tapping, sure enough, there was Gingerbrave’s hand with a bullet wound in it. “Got it.” She pulled it out and held it up for her friend to take, who cradled it close to his chest. “I’ll get the extra icing stitches from my backpack and we can stitch everything up.”

“No time.” Wild Strawberry jumped when her backpack and lollipop were shoved into her arms by the spicy cookie. She had picked the sheriff’s pockets clean, gotten the keys to the chest in the corner, and cleaned that out too. She strapped a belt around her waste and clipped two daggers to her side. “All that ruckus is gonna have the whole town coming down on top of us. Pointy hat, if you got magic I suggest you start using it!”

“My name is Wizard–!” The small boy’s correction was cut off by the glass of the window shattering in front of him.

“GET DOWN!” She grabbed Gingerbrave and Strawberry and pulled them behind the desk. Wizard, who had been a bit further away, joined them shortly after just as a hail of bullets poured in through both windows and the open front door. “Unless you wanna have more holes than swiss cheese then I suggest you get us out of here!!”

Wizard growled, but instead of snapping at her, he focused on the vocal components of a well-practiced spell. A magic circle appeared beneath the group of cookies and in a flash they were gone. One moment they were hiding under a desk, the next they were on top of a bluff overlooking the town. The gunshots, once deafening, were nothing but an echo on the rocks at this distance.

The spicy cookie stumbled, not used to the sensation of being teleported around, caught herself, and then let out a huge ‘WOO!’

“Wow! What a day!” She exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

“Tell me about it…” Wild Strawberry muttered as she dug into her backpack and pulled out the icing stitches. “Yo, Gingerbrave, let’s get your arm back on.”

“Y-Yeah…” The other boy hissed, allowing himself to be guided over to a rock and took a seat.

“That was some nice quick-casting there, pointy hat!” The spicy cookie went to pat Wizard on the back, but paused. “Oh, right, I’m supposed to be mad at you guys…” She pondered this for a moment before shaking her head with a laugh and then patting him anyway. “Ah, but it’s hard to stay mad after such a fun jailbreak! Definitely one of my favorite ones yet!”

“Who even are you?” Wizard Cookie turned on her, giving her an absolutely baffled look as he adjusted his hat.

“And, uh, why are you mad at us?” Gingerbrave called over, trying to remain as still as possible while Strawberry worked. It wasn’t like they weren’t used to being scorned by most, if not all, of Crispia, but this strange cookie’s anger seemed rather out of left field. The spicy cookie reared back, as if offended by this line of questioning.

“You mean you guys don’t recognize me?! Seriously? And here I thought you were supposed to be big shots…” She reached into her pocket and produced a rolled up piece of paper which was quickly revealed to be a wanted poster that she unraveled with a proud flourish. “The name’s Chili Pepper Cookie and I’m the best thief in the world! There’s nothing on Earthbread I can’t steal.”

“Whoa! Look at that bounty!” Gingerbrave gasped at the sight of all the zeroes. “But… Uh… What does that have to do with being mad at us?”

“Because!” She rolled the paper back up and jabbed a finger at the trio. “Your collective bounties are higher than MINE! How am I supposed to go down in history if I’m being outclassed by a bunch of twerps?!”

Wizard Cookie sputtered indignantly at this revelation. Wild Strawberry stared at her, thoroughly unimpressed. Gingerbrave, however, burst into laughter.

“That’s what all of this was about!?” He cackled a few moments, clutching his aching gut, before settling down and saying breathily, “You’re a weird cookie. I like you!”

“If you want our bounties, you can have them! They’re what got us into trouble in the first place!” Wizard huffed.

Chili Pepper tilted her head, fixing them with a weird look. “Wait, you mean to tell me you aren’t in this for the infamy? Guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around the usual haunts rubbing your status in everyone's faces. You’re totally out of the loop!” She brightened, as if this revelation was both a massive relief and a big joke at the same time.

“Yeah we’re… not really interested in whatever weird crime competition this is.” Wild Strawberry Cookie shook her head as she finished up Gingerbrave’s stitches and stashed the spool into her bag. “If anything those bounties make reaching our goal harder…”

Chili Pepper Cookie looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “What could a group of kids like you want so badly you land bounties that put you in the criminal elite?”

“We’re going to steal the Soul Jam to free the world!” Gingerbrave proudly announced, jumping to his feet, he was already feeling a lot better now that his wounds were stitched up.

“A world without judgement!” Wizard added with a nod.

“And lawlessness…” Wild Strawberry muttered.

Chili Pepper Cookie gave the three children a thoughtful expression, putting a hand to her chin with a little ‘huh…’ before shooting a wide grin at the kids. “Well, I’m not sure about half of that, but I can definitely get behind the stealing and lawlessness parts! Are those Soul Jam things shiny?”

“They are incredibly powerful magical artifacts that have the capability of changing the world as we know it!” Wizard rattled off. When Chili Pepper gave him a blank look, he sighed and said, “And they’re shiny, yes.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Gingerbrave cut in with a wide smile. “Chili Pepper Cookie, why don’t you come with us?” He got a mixed reaction of surprise and confusion from the cookies around him. Wizard Cookie and Wild Strawberry Cookie knew that Gingerbrave didn’t just extend offers like this to just anyone. He might have been the more chipper and outgoing of their group, but he didn’t trust others so easily. He must have really liked something Chili Pepper did or said to even think about such a proposal.

“You want me to come with you? Why?” Chili Pepper was just as confused as Gingerbrave’s friends. She couldn’t imagine them wanting her around after she gave them the silent treatment back in the jail cell.

“You seem fun.” Was Gingerbrave’s simple reply. “You helped us get out of that jail cell when you really didn’t have to. Plus, if you travel with us, I’m sure your bounty will sky rocket! And we could use the world’s greatest thief on our team!”

Chili Pepper Cookie seriously considered his proposal for a minute. When she had first heard about them and their rapid climbing of the leaderboard, she had thought they were nothing but a bunch of punk kids who wanted to be rowdy and cause trouble. Now she could see though, they had bigger plans than just topping the charts of the Underworld. She could appreciate such a large ambition.

Besides they didn’t seem to be jamthirsty monsters like all the rumors said they were. They were just… weird. The criminal underworld had plenty of downright monstrous folks who Chili Pepper tried not to associate with, but she could tell, these kids didn’t seem heartless. Mischievous, yes. Troubled? Absolutely. But not heartless.

“You know what?” Chili Pepper grinned. “I’ll think about it. But for right now, I got a job I need to finish.”

“A job?” Wild Strawberry asked just as Chili Pepper turned to walk towards the cliff that overlooked the town.

“Yeah? Do you think the greatest thief in the world would screw up and get arrested in a nothing town like this?” She gestured to the settlement below. “I let myself get caught! The train they were gonna put us on has a massive safe full of gems. I was gonna bust out of my cuffs mid-transfer and clean it out! But now I guess I gotta do it the good old fashioned way…”

Gingerbrave once again laughed, giving Chili Pepper a sharp grin. “Well, if you decide you wanna join up, head to the Bear Jelly Village in the Land of Little Big Dreams! There’s a cookie there who’ll point you in the right direction.” With that he raised a hand in farewell. “Good luck, Chili Pepper Cookie!”

Chili Pepper gave the kids a mock salute. “See you around, stitches! Make sure you stay out of any more jail cells, punks!” With that she jumped over the side as nimble as an acrobat, and out of sight.

“Well, that was certainly… interesting.” Wizard sighed, before clutching his stomach. “But we failed to get any supplies, and teleporting us this far has made me famished…”

“Right… I forgot about that…” Gingerbrave’s brow furrowed. Should they try heading back into town and risking getting arrested again? Did they push forward and hoped they reach the next town before they starved? He didn’t really know much about hunting or foraging, but he doubted they’d be able to sustain themselves with much in this sugar-free wasteland.

“Hey, look!” Wild Strawberry pointed further up the main road where the kids could see a huge cloud of dust being kicked up. “I think that’s a caravan.”

All three kids stared at it for a long moment.

“Welp!” Gingerbrave clapped his hands together. “Fellas, it’s time to commit robbery!”

“YEAH!!” Strawberry and Wizard raised their respective weapons into the air, excited at the prospect of getting some food in their stomachs. With that, the trio ran off to intercept those travelers.

From the bottom of the cliff, Chili Pepper watched the kids disappear. She lingered for a moment, deep in thought…

‘CHOO CHOOOOOOO!’

The thief turned on her heel and raced towards the tracks. Their paths would cross again someday, but for now, she has a train to catch.