#Blue-footed Cookie

[sixeyesonathiel]

what happens when gojo satoru sees a tiktok that says “she won’t marry you if you don’t bake her cookies” and takes it way too seriously?

a/n : satoru in a small ponytail. that’s it. i am so ill.

it starts with a tiktok.

some ridiculous, pastel-filtered, bubbly-voiced thing that popped up on his for you page. satoru wasn’t even paying attention at first—phone half dangling from his hand, his long legs stretched across the couch, socks mismatched, one slipping off at the heel. eyes glassy from too many cursed reports. a headache blooming behind his infinity.

then he hears it:

“she won’t marry you if you don’t bake her cookies.”

the video loops, endlessly.

satoru’s entire body tenses like he’s been struck. won’t marry me? the phrase echoes. his thumb hovers above the screen, then slowly lowers it like he’s disarming a bomb. he watches the video again. and again. and again. each repetition more damning than the last.

because here’s the thing—he’s already imagined it. you, in white. your name beside his on every formality. the tiny domestic moments. the matching toothbrushes. your socks in his drawer. the way you scrunch your nose at strong coffee but drink it anyway because it reminds you of mornings with him. gojo satoru, known for his irreverence, hasn’t taken anything seriously since he was sixteen—except you.

so, of course, he can’t take any risks.

within five minutes, he’s spiraling. tabs multiplying like cursed spirits. “best cookie recipes to make her love you.” “is baking a love language.” “can cookies be legally binding.” he’s skimming mom blogs and side-eyeing user reviews like they’re jujutsu intel. he gets into an argument with a reddit user named sugarboi92 about sea salt ratios. he forgets to blink.

you’re across from him on the couch, knees tucked to your chest, headphones in, humming softly to yourself. your lips move slightly with the lyrics. you don’t even notice the way his blue eyes flick toward you every thirty seconds, like he’s checking the stakes of the mission. his gaze lingers on the slope of your shoulder, the arch of your brow when you’re concentrating. the way you curl your toes slightly when you're content.

the next day, the kitchen is chaos.

flour in his hair. streaked across one cheek like warpaint. he’s tied his hair back, sort of—a stubborn, barely-there stub of a ponytail held by one of your elastics, fraying loose at the crown. his bangs still refuse to behave, fluttering messily over his forehead. he’s in your apron. pink. frilly. a cartoon cat winking on the chest. it rides up awkwardly over his broad frame, and he wears it with the dignity of a man crafting destiny.

his sleeves are rolled to the elbows. his forearms flex as he stirs. his fingers are clumsy, smudged with brown sugar. a smear of chocolate ends up on his temple. he mutters under his breath with each step, reciting the recipe like a curse formula. every so often, he glances toward the door, listening for your footsteps.

jazz plays faintly from the speaker. something soft, velvety. the smell of vanilla and browned sugar hangs heavy in the air. when he spins to check the oven, his socked foot slips slightly on a patch of spilled butter—he stumbles, catches himself with infinity, then growls, “no, no, no—these are for my wife.”

satoru tries. he really tries. he measures, levels, even uses your little kitchen scale. but halfway through, impatience wins. he eyeballs the butter. forgets the baking soda. adds too many chocolate chips. licks the spoon like it might tell him what love should taste like.

the cookies come out uneven. some puffed too tall. others thin, laced with caramelized edges. a few… a few are better left unnamed. but he arranges the best of them on a plate, forming a heart that leans to the side like it’s shy. he pipes icing across the center: “marry me?”

it’s crooked. a little desperate. but honest.

the kitchen is still warm when you shuffle in, rubbing your eyes, hair sticking up from sleep. your sleep shirt hangs off one shoulder. you freeze mid-step, blinking slowly at the sight of him.

he’s standing like a statue—plate in both hands, held up like an offering to a divine force. his hair is coming loose, white strands falling into his eyes. powdered sugar dusts his collarbone.

“...did you bake?”

your voice is raspy. amused. your brows lift slightly.

“for you,” he blurts. “they’re… hideous. but they’re made with love. and maybe some shell. tiny bits. character-building crunch.”

you blink. then smile. soft and slow. your hand comes up to stifle a laugh, but it slips through anyway—light and warm. he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for a century.

you take a cookie, nibble it, eyebrows rising in playful surprise. “not bad. crunchy. very... bold.”

he grins, triumphant and sheepish all at once. “bold like my love.”

later, you’re curled into him on the couch, your fingers idly twisting the hem of his shirt. his hand is at your waist, thumb rubbing slow circles over your hipbone, grounding himself. the crumbs from the cookies are scattered on the coffee table, forgotten.

satoru murmurs into your hair, “you would marry me even if i didn’t bake, right?”

you hum, teasing. “maybe.”

you don’t see the way his jaw tightens slightly. how his hand stills. how his eyes lose focus, staring somewhere into the middle distance.

that night, he doesn’t sleep.

by 3 a.m., he’s back in the kitchen. hair tied up again, face set in grim determination. this time, he double-checks the measurements. preheats the oven properly. watches every timer like a hawk. he sifts the flour twice. levels every cup. wipes down the counter with surgical precision.

because gojo satoru might be the strongest sorcerer alive—but when it comes to you, he won’t risk anything. not even with cookies.

he knows the video’s probably a joke. he knows you’re not the kind of person who’d break up with him over a batch of chocolate chips. he knows tiktok is 90% lies and 10% cat videos with manipulated audio. but what if it’s not? what if, deep down, there's a part of you that really does want warm, homemade cookies from the person you love? what if someone else bakes them for you first?

that’s not a chance he’s willing to take.

not when he’s already seen every future where he loses you—and in none of them did it start with cookies. but maybe that’s why it’s so dangerous. maybe the end begins with small, quiet things.

so he bakes.

and love, unlike cursed energy, can’t be tamed. it pulses, wild and unscripted, without binding vows or techniques—just a heart stupid enough to keep trying.

[cherrybr4t]

say it — choi seungcheol

ABOUT.

you’re back from college, and seungcheol starts to realise you’re no longer the bratty little 18 year old anymore — and has trouble accepting that he’s not protective of you just because he thinks of himself as an ‘older brother figure’ in your life.

PAIRING.

seungcheol x reader (fem)

TAGS/WARNINGS.

rich!seungcheol and rich!reader, age gap (cheol is older by 6 years), childhood friend! cheol, smut with plot, mentions of older brother mingyu (reader), cheol suffers from jealousy! denial! possessiveness! friends to lovers au <3 one-sided pining!

ׂ╰┈�� CHAPTER TAGS/WARNINGS. ⭐️

rich!seungcheol and rich!reader, older brother mingyu, wonwoo x reader, age gap, alcohol consumption, cheol may seem slightly controlling 😕 not much gg on yet BUT! slow tension building!

ׂ╰┈➤ series masterlist

i. red lips and red wine

Bottles of dom perignon, check. Smell of butter cookies wafting through the hallways, check. Dad nitpicking the spread prepared by the chef? Check. That about kicks start Christmas in your household.

The annual christmas party held by your family was not to be missed, especially since you’re back home this year and immediately took an interest in making sure it would be the best damn Christmas party anyone will ever step foot in.

You woke up in the wee hours — with your Prada monolith boots snug on your feet, along with your favourite puffer jacket, and headed out to complete your errands — getting new christmas lights, more cedar wood scented candles, as well as some decorative poinsettias your mom loves to have around.

When evening came rolling around, the party was in full swing. Gold garlands complementing the bright red poinsettias, and the food spread — done to perfection, all thanks to your housekeeper who’d executed your vision down to a T.

You strutted down the stairs with your vintage dior dress — red, silk, flowy edges that stopped near your knees. Paired with gold jewellery that you were still busy clasping on as you walked out of your room, only to bump into your older brother, already grinning down at you.

“Hey munchkin, late as usual?” Mingyu reached out to adjust pieces of hair falling in front of your face, knowing how you liked your up-do neat. Offering a lopsided grin to your brother, you shrugged.

“You already know it, plus I was busy appeasing mom about the absence of her favourite — the 1982 chateau. Swear it’s impossible to find this time of the year,” you huffed.

Chuckling, Mingyu held up his elbows for you to interlock your arms with as you both made your way down to the party.

“Cheol! Jae!” Mingyu’s excitement coursed through him way too quick — tossing away your arm tugging onto him in a flash. Rolling your eyes, you let your eyelashes flutter on your eyelids before settling your gaze upon the men in front of you.

Your family and the Choi’s go way back. The bridging of the Kim’s and the Choi’s started when both your grandparents were neighbours — and when you four came along; seungcheol, seungjae, mingyu and you, you four were inseparable. Be it playing outside your yards, pulling shenanigans at the Choi’s basement or wherever.

You’ve just recently returned home from college, and it has been quite some time since you’ve met the Choi’s. Adulthood and what not. Looking at the pair in front of you, your eyes took one scan over Cheol.

He was still the same effortlessly handsome fella, though he seemed to be sporting a different hair colour, and no longer with an undercut as you’ve last remembered him in. He’s gotten more buff, the shape of his built emphasized with the dark blue cashmere sweater he was clad in.

Still a sight for sore eyes.

You can’t help the smile creeping on the corner of your lips and teetering on the edges of your tightlined eyes. It was like the 19 year old in you reigniting that intense infatuation you had for your neighbour.

His familiar dark eyes darted over to you, before greeting Mingyu in a warm hug. Letting Mingyu catch up with Jae, he makes a beeline towards you, clutching the bag on his hand tightly.

“Merry Christmas,”

His woody scent mixed with a hint of citrus hits you in the face, and you were immediately transported back to how obsessed you were with this particular scent of his as a teenager — you would sneak over to take naps in his room constantly, to be engulfed in his scent and warmth through his sheets.

Your heart palpitates at the familiar scent. It’s been years since you were a teenager harboring a hopeless crush, and you sure did not want to spiral back to that state. You self soothed, mentally berating yourself.

“Merry Christmas, Cheol. It’s been a while, time seems to be treating you well,” you tilt your head as you take in his appearance in his face, as if you weren’t already checking him out before he came over to you.

His lips twitched into a smile, "Always with a biting comment,"

The secret is to always remain calm, cool, collected. Nonchalant. It’s what the 23 year old you picked up from years of being amongst the worst of the worst — college boys.

You know Seungcheol isn’t comparable to them. They could never. And — he’s…him. The guy who would willingly let himself get dragged along for boxing classes, just because you needed a reason to impress your high school crush.

He was your solace, your comfort — and you’re not sure why you’re feeling the need to place an invisible boundary with him right now. Could be the years of distance, perhaps.

His lips spread out in a wide grin, shaking his head as he hands over the bag, containing — “a 1982 chateau? How did you…” your jaw slacked as you looked at the bottle inside. This kiss ass. No wonder he was always your mom’s favourite.

“I never divulge my secrets,”

You couldn't even formulate a reply as your mom — with some sort of telepathic tingle, ran over to greet Cheol with a warm hug, slightly tipsy from the few glasses of Dom Perignon already.

“Seungcheol! It’s so good to see you — is that a bottle of my favourite 1982? You’re always the sweetest, Cheol,” your mom cooed, patting his arm before engaging in light conversation with him.

You took the bottle with you and headed to the kitchen, placing it down with the other bottles of liquor, wine lined up along the counter.

You could use the silence to let the heat trickling up your neck subside.

“Running away so fast?”

Cheol leans against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms — allowing his arms to bulge through that sweater of his. Peeling your eyes away, you give him a cheeky grin.

“Never,” you took a decorated glass and poured some bubbly for him, “just had to make sure all of my guests are properly hydrated.”

Taking a sip, he hums in appreciation before shooting you a glance again. “So, congrats on graduating with first class honors, heard you’re back for good? Looking for a job here?”

You raise your eyebrows, “Hmm, yeah for now, applied for a few writing jobs here and there,” you fidget slightly under his gaze, before deciding to pour a glass for yourself.

“Writing? Didn’t you graduate with a bachelor’s in...Economics?” he stares fixedly, a slight frown displayed, skeptical.

“Yeah, and?"

"And...may I ask which love interest has you applying for writing jobs?" He starts to look around, observing other bottles laid out on the counter.

You roll your eyes, lightly smacking your forehead with your palm.

"Writing as in you know — journalism, relating to the financial markets, or anything about politics, I guess, but really — I'm open to whatever,” you shrugged.

”I hope you know what you’re doing, I know how you are,” he clears his throat.

”What’s that supposed to mean?” You cut him off, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I just mean, you’re 23 now, you can’t necessarily go through jobs like you’re picking out a new hobby, or switching love interests. Remember when you made me pick up — let me think, the drums, cross stitching, boxing,"

“Hey, you enjoyed doing those with me!” you throw him a glare, “plus without me, you wouldn’t have found your love for jiu jitsu classes…”

"May I remind you that your hobbies or interests all line up with whichever love interest you're trying to impress,"

He raises his eyebrows before downing the rest of the sparkly in the bow tied glass.

You rolled your eyes for the nth time, “I’m 23 now, and I'm no longer the little girl you knew before okay? I’ve grown.” With an inward cringe at yourself, you only hope he sees how serious you are. With an amused look behind his eyes, he lets out a tiny chuckle, “We’ll see about that,"

"But, congratulations anyhow, and, it is good to have you back," Cheol clinks his glass with yours before downing his drink while maintaining eye contact.

Seungcheol, in fact, knows you are definitely not the same 19 year old he knew. Well, at least you did not look like it anymore. He berates himself silently for letting his eyes linger a little too long at how well the dress sits on you.

You’ve also apparently opted for switching to red lips paired with bolder eye makeup. You no longer looked like the girl who would pester him every day, calling him for a ride home from a house party at 3 in the morning. Which always resulted in him nagging the whole ride back home — and you falling asleep mid-way, giving in to your migraine.

Seungcheol’s been around for almost your whole life. He was 6 when he sat around at your baby shower, 16 when he had to babysit you and your brother, 21 when you had your first crush, 24 when you cried to him about your first heartbreak.

26 when you told him you were leaving for college.

He was a busy man even then, having started working at his dad’s company. Was busy chasing the validation and status required for him to step up and take over one day. As much as the role came naturally to him, dealing with the sudden spotlight on him was another issue.

Over the years, Mingyu always kept in close contact with him despite being in college, and was a dependable friend to him consistently.

You, on the other hand, had slowly started to disappear. All he could count on for verification you were alive were your instagram stories filled with flashing lights in the club and weekly calls with your family — shaking his head in a very older brother fashion when he sees what you’re up to on a saturday night.

Daily texts had started to fade to weekly, monthly and then once in a blue moon. Not that seungcheol was too bothered by it though, he had his own fair share of worries and responsibilities piling up.

4 years of college done, and you had set off for a year-long break travelling with friends, before deciding it was time to head home and get a job.

And here you were, chatting and mingling around looking like you no longer needed to have seungcheol by your side at such gatherings — no longer seeking solace in his presence when guests were enervating.

Bittersweet, he concludes before he realises he’s been eyeing you for almost the whole night.

“Parties getting too draining for you?” Mingyu chuckles, playing around with the wine in his glass.

“Still getting drunk with 3 glasses of wine?”

“Now that’s low — those days are behind me,” a hiccup cuts Mingyu off, and he starts giggling while Seungcheol smirks knowingly, shaking his head.

“You still get your ass embarrassingly drunk, what do you mean,” seungcheol shoots and he scores as mingyu snapped his head towards him, glaring playfully before challenging him to a drink-off right then and there.

“Not with the alcohol here — it’d be a waste to chug these,”

“Just say you’re scared, you old fuck,” Mingyu’s devilish smile makes way and seungcheol gives him a tight smack on his shoulders — Mingyu grimaces, rubbing the spot with a slight pout.

“And to think that we’re all grown adults now — but some things never change huh,” you appear at sight with arms crossed, a teasing smile on your red lips.

“You’re talking a little too big for someone who’s just entered the real adult world,” Mingyu walks up to you, flicking your forehead before downing the rest of his wine.

You gasp, “I expected more from you gyu” you scurried over to cheol’s side, clinging onto his arm and he notices how you’ve grown slightly taller over the past few years.

“Yeah yeah, go ahead and gang up on me again — we all know cheol prefers me,” Mingyu clicks his tongue before heading towards the kitchen for a refill.

“I’m guessing you’ve already heard about Jeonghan's wedding?” He cuts the thick air, ever so suavely leaning against the wall. You’ve always hated his nonchalance. Airiness. Made you feel insignificant when it came to the brain map of Choi Seungcheol.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Though, he did give a pretty lame excuse for missing this party,” you snickered.

“Give him a break, he’ll need a month beforehand to charge his energy before his wedding,” you chuckled, and before you could even formulate a reply, a loud crash from the kitchen interrupts and catches everyone’s attention.

Mingyu runs out with a sheepish look — cheeks red eyes crinkly — “oops,”

When seungcheol sees you at Jeonghan’s wedding the following week, the last thing he expected was to see you hand in hand with a plus one, sashaying around the grand hall.

His brain goes into autowire, immediately scrutinising said man under his watchful gaze. You had a track record of always canoodling with guys who only left you with sore eyes and a broken heart — it’s only natural for him to be on guard.

He takes no longer than 10 seconds to decipher that he’s no good for you. Blames it on brotherly instincts. He struts over to your direction, staring fixedly before you wave enthusiastically at him, pulling your date over to him.

"Cheol! Cheollie, c'mere, this is Wonwoo. And Wonwoo, this is Seungcheol," he sees you pursing your lips, fidgeting while standing between them.

"Hi," Cheol stares him down, but the formally trained business man in him reaches out a hand towards the tall man sleeked out in an all-black suit.

"I'm," he clears his throat before glancing over at you, "somewhat like an older brother, except her real brother is probably at the bar right now," and he sees you do a half eye roll, clearly amused by the situation.

"Nice to finally meet you, I've heard a lot about you," Wonwoo offers a tight smile, and Cheol feels slightly impressed by the tight grip Wonwoo had while shaking hands.

And then he thinks, if this man has heard about him, how close exactly are you with this tall and sleek man? But at this point, the you that's always been wearing their emotions on their sleeve starts to feel inscrutable, even to Cheol.

Your small talk gets interrupted by an announcement, ushering all guests to be seated in the main dining hall. You make your separate ways, only to realise that to no one's surprise, Jeonghan placed you with Cheol, Jae and Mingyu in the seating arrangement.

Looking at the name cards placed prettily across the table, you glanced at Cheol who was already settling down beside Mingyu.

Letting out an inward sigh, you shake away thoughts of how absolutely dashing Cheol looked tonight in his suit and tie. Instead, diverting your focus to the glass of red wine placed in front of you.

"For you, miss red wine and red lips,"

Your eyes scrunched up, "You already know me so well Wonwoo."

"Of course, will never forget how stunning you were when I first saw you across the bar weeks ago," he smiles, "sipping on that red wine with that dangerous red lip of yours," he chuckles, whispering that last bit, holding up a glass of red of his own.

Right. That was how he came about to be your date today.

You've met him at the airport lounge, coincidentally, both finding solace in the selection of red at the lounge bar. What were the chances that you were both catching the same flight, and heading home too.

You would never miss a chance to sit with a man like Wonwoo, and he proved worthy of your time when conversations flowed naturally with a spark of tension from time to time.

Cheol overhears bits of your exchange across the table, mind working in overtime as he pieces the information together. Thinks of it as protective instincts he can't seem to shake off even after all these years.

"So, Wonwoo, tell us — what're you currently doing?" Cheol props his elbow up on the satin lined round table, raising his eyebrows towards Wonwoo.

You shot him a look across the table, but Wonwoo just chuckles calmly, squeezing your arm lightly under the table after noticing your slight distress.

"I'm a co-director in a small start up company. We focus on programming and designing games — our current focus is on MOBA games," He clears his throat, "I was returning from a research work trip when I met y/n at the airport."

"Games?" Mingyu perks up, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"Yeah, well.. I'm a pretty big fan of gaming myself, which got me and two other friends to start up this company,"

Cheol nods, smirking a little as he starts to reminisce on how horrible you were at games — always being a pain in the neck to teach. He says nothing, and the conversation fizzles out to Mingyu and Wonwoo chatting about his trip while Cheol and you engage in a small staring contest while you sip on your wine.

What? You mouthed towards him. Nothing. He shakes his head and turns his attention to the emcee of the night who starts introducing the events that were going to unfold for the rest of the night.

You're about 10 drinks in when it reaches the open dance floor segment.

You've danced with about everyone you knew, and when the band starts opening up requests for songs, silly silly drunk you couldn't miss the chance to take over the microphone.

Wonwoo is laughing, enjoying your antics while Mingyu is shouting at you to get your ass back down.

It's 11pm, most guests were either retired to their rooms booked for the night at the hotel or mingling outside the grand hall. It was down to Jeonghan, his bride Minji, and remaining rascals who can't get enough of the free flow drinks and colourful lights.

Jeonghan slaps mingyu across the back, "Stop, let her have her fun. I missed the little gremlin and her singing,"

"You just want her to embarrass herself, don't kid anyone Jeonghan," Mingyu rolls his eyes as he rubs a palm across his forehead.

Cheol on the other hand, as much as he agrees with Jeonghan, knows you're going to regret every bit of this the next morning — if you're going to remember this at all. He stays seated, watching how things unfold and deciding to step in when it gets too much.

Wonwoo steps out to make a call, and you pout while blowing raspberries into the mic. "Boo, I haven't even started my set yet,"

"Oh God I can't watch this, Cheol, you handle her," Mingyu excuses himself from the scene, and Cheol nods, "Don't worry, I've got her,"

You giggle, "Cheollieeee, I knew you would stay. You always do," A hiccup ends your sentence, but you stay swaying and blushing while gripping onto the mic stand.

Jeonghan sends a look towards him at the table, "After all these years and she's still as attached to you, hmm,"

"Yeah well, I've always been the big older brother to both her and Mingyu," he shrugs, eyes crinkling with slight adoration as he looks at you starting the first verse of your favourite classic — like a virgin.

What a choice.

Things start to turn ugly when you're three songs in, and more guests filter out. Cheol notices the stage of intoxication you're at and decides it's time out for you.

"All right Madonna, no more. Let's go. You're going to bed," He struts towards the stage, and grabs the mic off your hands.

"Show's over ladies and gentlemen, goodnight."

"What? Hello?" You try to pry the mic away but the lead singer of the band seems to be on Cheol's side, in a hurry to pack up for the night.

Cheol grabs onto your shoulders firmly yet not too forceful, and guides you off the stage. Intertwining your hands, he pulls you towards the room's exit.

You try to make a fight for it, struggling against his hold.

"Let go of me!" You squeak out, trying to sound as assertive as you can.

Once you're at a secluded area of the grand hall, behind big pillars near the lift lobby, he turns around to face you.

"You, little miss, have had enough for the night."

"You're not the boss of me, not anymore." Your voice tunes down at the last part, suddenly feeling not as convicted as you were under his scrutinising gaze.

"You sure about that?"

You felt like you sobered up in that second, the moment he uttered those words in your face. Your vision cleared up as you looked at him in the eye, slight chills running down your exposed spine.

"Stop with this whole big brother act. Stop treating me like i'm 18 years old, i'm a fucking adult now," you maintained his gaze, crossing your arms to try to one-up him in an unspoken game of dominance.

"Hm. You want to be treated like an adult?" He speaks up after a beat of silence.

You fidget, eyes shifting as you start to feel a little warm. "Yes."

He takes a step closer, face inching nearer as you start to feel his breath on you, "Then act like one," he mutters with an edge of mischief on that otherwise serious face of his.

Damn. You puff out air, unwilling to lose this fight. You never do.

"Do you get off on acting like you're the boss of me or something?"

And you close your eyes, silently regretting those words the minute you uttered them.

"Excuse me?" Cheol quirks an eyebrow, scoffing with his tongue poking out of his cheek.

"You heard what I said,"

He shakes his head, and interlaces your fingers once again, dragging you to the lift lobby.

In the dark and cold elevator, you and him stand at complete opposite sides. In a moment of self reflection; you silently observe the patterns on the sleek marble wall, but when your eyes accidentally shift over to the man in front of you, you jump slightly when you notice he's already staring down at you — intense and unblinking.

He holds onto the elevator bars behind him, crossing his leg one over the other as his poor button on his shirt looks like it's about to give out. All while his hair seems to fall perfectly on his brows, and his gaze on you remains unwavering.

The flicker of emotion behind his stare was difficult to decipher, you felt exposed, and you weren't sure if it was the alcohol causing the heat trickling down your nape.

"W-what?" You rub your arms in cold mechanism, also subconsciously comforting yourself in this situation.

But the man opposite you says nothing, just continuing to burr holes into your face.

You roll your eyes, and continue to look elsewhere, this time focusing on the increasing numbers on the elevator screen propped on the top right corner.

"So, this wonwoo guy," Cheol decides to bring up what was stuck on the back of his mind the whole night.

"Crap! Wonwoo! Where is he? I just left without letting him know, wait where's my phone?" You jolt up, standing upright as you start to panic mildly.

"Calm down, Mingyu's gone over to tell him you're settling in for the night. And, your phone is with me," he pulls out the sleek device out of his pocket and you grab it eagerly.

"You like him quite a lot huh,"

You ignore his comment before releasing a small breath of relief when you saw the texts Wonwoo left you.

hey! heard from your brother you've went to settle in for the night.

sorry i was settling a work call earlier

hope you rest well tonight! remember to drink up lots of water, as i'm assuming you'll be reading this in the morning 🥰

"Bring him around for our weekly dinner, I think it'll be good to know him better," Cheol suggests, not willing to let go of the topic.

"Our weekly dinner is back?"

"It's never been gone, I'm closer to Mr and Mrs. Kim than I am to you at this point,"

You gasp, feigning annoyance but feeling glad that your parents had the Choi's around when you and Mingyu weren't around as much.

"I'll think about it," you shrug as you put your phone away.

"No, bring him around if you're planning to see him long term," he crosses his arms, and seems relentless.

You roll your eyes, and groan while leaning your head against the elevator.

"Fine. Fucking Controlling," you whisper the last part to yourself, and before Cheol can butt in with his wide-eyed anger, you groan again - alcohol giving you the extra liquid courage.

"And why is this god-damn elevator taking so long,"

Cheol reasons with himself. Doesn't want to pick up your broken pieces if you get your heart broken by Wonwoo. Doesn't want you to jump into another guy blindly without him assessing them. Thinks of it as his right as your older brother, sort of.

Yeah. He's just looking out for you. He thinks as he clenches his jaw slightly.

Definitely not because he wants to know what exactly about Wonwoo has gotten you so smitten.

ׂ╰┈➤ A/N: omg. i've finally posted the first chapter 😭 brain juices weren't flowing during the holidays but THANK YOU all for the love on the teaser (ish), and for waiting so patiently :( i swear i'll make it more juicy n +18 for the next few chapters 😱 just wna let things roll out a lil more for this one 😉

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[sa1ntn3k0]

Snow Leopard Gojo - part 2 (∩˃o˂∩) ♡ nsfw!

Shoving a six-foot-something hybrid into a closet was… not your finest moment.  

“Get in,” you hissed, palms pressed uselessly against Satoru’s bare chest, a chest that felt more like marble than flesh, all hard planes and warmth. He loomed over you, grinning like a cat who’d not only found the cream but also knocked it over for fun.  

“Aw, but it’s cozy in here,” he purred, peering past you at the mountain of laundry and half-empty shoeboxes cluttering your closet. His tail swished lazily, brushing your ankle. “Smells like you, too. Cute.”  

“Satoru-”  

“Shh, your mom’s gonna hear~,” he sing-songed, bending down until his breath ghosted your ear. “Unless you want her to find us like this?”  

Your face flamed. “Don’t be dumb.”  

With a theatrical, yet awfully bratty sigh, he finally stepped backward, folding himself onto the floor like a contortionist. The Hello Kitty towel around his hips rode up dangerously, and you swore he did it on purpose. “Don’t miss me too much,” he whispered, wiggling his big, calloused fingers in a mocking wave.  

You slammed the door, heart thundering.  

The next thirty minutes were agony. Your mother, bless her, had arrived with tupperwares of veggie gyoza and white chocolate chip cookies, her smile soft as she fussed over your “tired eyes” and “skinny arms.” But every creak of the floorboards made you twitch. Your gaze kept darting to the bedroom door, half-expecting Satoru to waltz out, towel dropped, declaring, “Surprise! I’m her new roommate!”  

Somehow, he stayed put.  

Once your mom left, you flung the closet open, only to freeze.  

Satoru sat cross-legged amidst your soft sweaters, his snow-white hair mussed adorably. The towel remained (thank heavens), but clutched in his hands was…  

“Are those my-SATORU!”  

He blinked up at you, your cotton, strawberry-print panties dangling from his teeth like a hunter’s prize. “Mmrf?”

His pupils were blown wide, blue barely peeking from black. Your heart dropped to your bum as you saw that those were the panties you wore yesterday… As in, not washed, dried, faint slick still clung to the middle.

What?!

“You-you pervert!” You lunged, snatching the fabric away. His plush lips quirked into a smirk, and you knew he’d been waiting for this. “Why would you- how even- ?!”  

“They smell like you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. Before you could die, he leaned forward and licked a stripe up your tiny neck. His pink, rough tongue scraping your pulse point.  

“Eep!” You reeled back, clutching your throat. “Warn a girl!”  

“But where’s the fun in that?” He unfolded himself, tail curling around your waist to steady you. “C’mon, I’m starving… Especially after smelling you. Feed me!”  

You didn’t acknowledge the “smelling you” part, merely walking to the kitchen with your tummy in swirls, heart beating faster than a spooked bunny’s. 

Dinner was a spectacle. You’d cooked the lamb chops thoroughly, plating them with rice and veggies, a meal fit for, well, a person. Satoru took one look at the knife and fork, snorted, and dug in with his hands, tearing into the meat like it owed him fresh ibex.  

“You’re supposed to chew, not inhale,” you muttered, nibbling one of the cookies your mom brought. Your dinner was… weird most of the time. You had warm milk with chocolate in your miffy cup, getting curious side eyes from Satoru. 

He paused, a glob of sauce on his cheek. “Want me to lick the plate next?”  

“No.” 

“You’re no fun.” Still, he let you drag him to the sink afterward, pouting as you scrubbed his hands with citrus-scented soap. “Y’know, my tongue’s self-cleaning.”  

“And I’m self-respecting. Keep your icky germs to yourself.”  

As night fell, Satoru’s true origin spilled out between stolen bites of your cookies. The Himalayas. Poachers. A wealthy owner who’d treated him like a trophy. “Boring lady,” he grumbled, tail thumping the couch. “All she did was take pics for her shitty Instagram. No belly rubs or cuddles. No fun.”  

Your chest ached. “So you… ran?”  

“Duh.” He flicked your nose. “Best decision ever. Led me to you.”  

You busied yourself with dishes to hide your blush. Satoru saw it, though. His tail swished in quiet victory, more like self-satisfaction.  

Bedtime brought a fresh battle.  

You had just finished a relaxing shower, your room smelled of lavender, the lingering scent of your body wash. Changing was meh. You changed in your tiny closet, worried Satoru might walk in and see you naked, but once done, and in your small, soft, very lacy nightgown, you felt more than ready to sleep.

But just as you lay down, you saw Satoru peeking through your cracked open door, his expression beyond cute, just as annoying. It was obvious where his eyes were, trailing your pert body. You felt his pretty blue’s burn harshly on your perky breasts, on your hips, put on display by your little nightgown.

“Bad kitty,” you said, tossing a miffy plushie at Satoru’s smug face. Your cheeks turned rosy, bothered that a mere look from the man could make you so… shy. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”  

He’d changed into your brother’s old sweatpants (too short, clinging to his calves) and a Hello Kitty tee that stretched obscenely over his pecs, the hem riding up to reveal a sliver of toned stomach. “But it’s cold,” he whined, flopping onto your pink bed like an overpowered little prince with the caught plush in hand, well, not little. “And lonely. And scary.”  

“You’re a snow leopard. You are scary.”  

“Please?” He rolled onto his back, paws (hands? Hands.) clasped under his chin. Moonlight gilded his white, thick lashes, his eyes shimmering like twin lagoons. “I’ll be a good boy. Promise.”  

You lasted ten seconds.  

“Fine. But no funny business.”  

He celebrated by rolling himself into a burrito with your Hello Kitty quilts, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth with his ridiculously strong arms. His purr rumbled through you, low and steady, his nose nuzzling your hair.  

“Hey,” you whispered, fingers brushing the collar still snug around his throat. “Why don’t you take this off?”  

He stiffened, then sighed. “…It’s a reminder. That I’m mine now. Not hers.”  

Your heart squeezed. “You are.”  

“Yours too, maybe,” he murmured, so quietly you almost missed it.  

You fell asleep like that, his tail draped over your hip, his breath soft in your ear, his strong heartbeat like a gentle lullaby, and the strangest, sweetest sense that this jerk wasn’t that much of a jerk.  

The rhythm you’d carved out with Satoru was… peculiar, but precious. Mornings began with him sprawled across your chest like a living weighted blanket, his tail flicking your chin until you groaned awake, just like how he was in his cub form. He’d trail you to the kitchen, stealing bites of your buttered, honeyed toast (despite his carnivorous hate for carbs) and sipping your orange juice straight from the carton, just to watch you squawk. Afternoons were for sunbeams, he’d claim the best patches of light, melting into a puddle of purrs near the TV, while you tackled textbooks at the table. Evenings? Those belonged to his obsession with your bathtub. He’d soak for far too long, clouding the water with lavender bubbles, his ears peeking over the rim like misbehaving marshmallows.  

When you’d come in to scold him, he’d pout and dry off, mumbling about how “mean” his owner is. 

But today, something was off.  

You’d returned from class bone-tired, your brain still buzzing with equations, only to freeze in the genkan. The air hummed with a sticky sweetness, honey drizzled over sea salt, floral but feral. Your stomach flipped. “Satoru…?”  

No answer.  

The apartment was eerily tidy. No half-eaten steak abandoned on the counter, no trail of shed fur leading to the couch. No Digimon reruns on TV… Just silence, thick and syrupy. Your pulse spiked as you crept toward the bedroom.  

There, curled in a shivering heap on your rumpled sheets, was Satoru.  

“Oh my god-” You rushed to him, knees hitting the mattress. He clutched your pillow to his face, his knuckles white, breath ragged. His usual alabaster skin was flushed rose-pink, sweat glistening at his temples. The scent intensified here, heady, intoxicating, like orchids dipped in musk.  

“Satoru, look at me,” you pleaded, cupping his jaw. His eyes cracked open, pupils blown so wide his irises were mere slivers of Arctic blue. They glowed faintly, fever-bright. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Do you need-?”  

“Heat,” he rasped, voice shredded. His claws snagged the pillowcase, threads snapping. “It’s- hah- not… not your problem. Just… go.”  

“Go? You’re burning up!” You pressed a cold, tiny palm to his forehead; he whimpered, nuzzling into your touch like a starved kitten. “Why didn’t you tell me this could happen?!”  

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing,” he hissed, though the effect was ruined by how he arched into your hand, chasing your fingers as you brushed his hair back. “Snow leopards don’t- nngh- don’t do this every year. Just… when we…” His throat bobbed. “…find a mate.”  

Your breath hitched. “Oh.”  

“Not that I’m- ah- proposing,” he gritted out, tail lashing. “Just… biology being a dick. I’ll be fine. Go.”  

But his body betrayed him. He shuddered violently, a broken whine escaping as he rutted against the mattress, hips stuttering. You saw the way his stiff cock pushed against the cotton of his pajamas, the way there was a tiny patch of wetness… pre cum staining the fabric. The motion sent a bolt of heat straight to your cheeks, but not more than the way the bed shook faintly, just a mere glimpse of how strong he is.  

“Stop being stubborn,” you whispered, climbing onto the bed. Your pink sundress rode up to your pretty thighs as you settled against the headboard, legs folded. “C’mere.”  

Satoru stared at you, conflicted, pride warring with desperation. Then, with a tiny wounded noise, he crawled into your lap, his face buried in the crook of your neck. He was trembling, his skin scorching through your clothes.  

“Shh, it’s okay,” you murmured, cradling his head. His ears flattened, velvety against your palms. “You’re okay.”  

“Not okay,” he choked out, fingers clawing the sheets instead of your hips- oh, never mind, his fingers started to knead your hips, like dough. “You’re too… soft. Smell too good. Hate this.”  

“I know,” you soothed, rocking gently. “Just breathe.” Funny thing is, your heart was racing, you should breathe too, but the way Satoru touched you went straight to your core, making you sticky, your panties clinging to the fluid. 

You traced idle patterns over his back, avoiding the dip of his spine where his tail met skin, yet that didn’t change a thing. He jerked, a guttural purr rattling his chest. You felt his lips on your neck, his fangs grazing your skin, begging to sink in, bite you as he fucked you senseless. “Fuck, baby- don’t- please- ”  

“Does this help?” you asked softly, skimming your nails up his nape. Your cheeks burned as you saw the damp spot on his pajamas grow, like he was a leaking faucet of need. 

“Yes. No. Stop.” He gasped, hips rolling helplessly, uselessly. “Don’t… don’t tease me.”  

You weren’t, but hell, it felt like it. Your free hand rested on his tummy, shifting him a little to be comfier. Eyes trying to not stray to his weeping, cotton covered cock, the way it twitched, the way your core oozed more warm slick.

Satoru obviously caught on, having a sharp nose, but he just whined, feeling frustrated. He didn’t want to hurt you, in any way, so he tried to avoid the thought of rutting into you, feeling your tight, warm, gummy insides hug his thick length tight, how he’d fill you with his warm, salty release, maybe watch it flow out as he fingered it back in…

Fuck, this wasn’t helping. 

“I’m not,” you promised, heart aching. His anguish was palpable, a storm of need and restraint. “Tell me what you need.”  

“You,” he keened, the word raw. “But I can’t- won’t- hngh- ”  

“Shh.” You pressed a soft kiss to his temple, tasting salt. “I’ve got you.”  

Slowly, so slowly, you palmed his tummy, the muscles quivering beneath your touch. His breath hitched, a broken sound, but he didn’t pull away. You mapped the planes of his abdomen, going lower despite your heart beating too fast, your body feeling warm, gentling him like a spooked kitten. His purr stuttered, deepened, until the bed vibrated with it.  

Satoru’s breath hitched when your tiny hand brushed the very bottom of his tummy, near his pubic bone. His eyes widened, up on yours as his hands clung to your dress, unintentionally pulling it down, revealing your baby-pink lace-covered, pert breasts.

Your hand hesitantly ran over his stiff cock, lips parting at the sheer size of him, how girthy and long- was his dick curved? You almost fainted, but Satoru’s whine, paired with his puffy lips clinging to your now released nipple, brought you back.

What?

Your panties flooded, and you mewled softly, palming his aching cock as you watched him suckle on your nipple like a hungry baby. His eyes shut a little, and his ears- oh, his cute ears twitched with each suck. His hips jerked up desperately, whimpering nonsense onto your breasts. His sharp little fangs brush the sensitive skin, leaving you a mess.

You couldn’t say no to him anymore. But you hadn’t a clue how to please a man… Sure, you saw a few videos before, a girl jerking her hand up and down the length, the man groaning before he came, but was it the same to every man? You saw the way Satoru was almost crying as he suckled, basking in your palming, but far too needy, far too eager for more.

Who were you to deny him?

You gently pulled his pajamas down, eliciting a whimper from his pink lips, still stubbornly latched onto your nipple. His other hand now kneads your other breast, eyes up on you, looking far too innocent for the situation. 

“Shh, I got you, kitty. Let me take care of you.” Once his throbbing, girthy, long cock bobbed out from his pajamas, your eyes widened, pupils shifting to phantom hearts.

Holy shit.

Satoru was pure fantasy. His weeping dick, and swollen balls aching. His pinkish-red tip dribbled small amounts of milky release, his length covered in faint veins, curved faintly upwards, like a hook. Aroused was an understatement; you had the urge to sink down on him, despite your shy self, to feel his fat tip kiss your soft cervix…

Satoru suckled harder, nipping on your nipple, massaging the other until pliant. You glanced down at him, softly whimpering along to him as you began to follow pure instinct, jerking him off.

“There you go, kitty,” you whispered. “Just let go.”  

He went boneless against you, limbs heavy, face barely hidden, his saliva bathing your now puffy nipple. His tail coiled around your ankle, an anchor. 

Sweet thing hadn’t uttered a coherent word the entire time; that’s how gone he was. Your fingers grazed his swollen tip, adding more pressure to the length as you went up and down. Satoru’s whimper, alongside the jerk of his hips, with the hard nibble of your nipple, told you he was close.

So when his release fell like a waterfall, sticky white fluid spurting from his tip to his clenching tummy, all over your tiny hand, he trembled, ears twitching, tail shaking faintly. His lips didn’t leave your nipple, though, saliva strand staying intact as he looked up to you half lidded, whining softly.

“That’s it, baby… Such a good boy, hm?” You cooed softly, cheeks rosy, matching his. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, hands trembling softly. But when your sticky hand left his relaxed cock, he suckled more, almost begging to have some kind of physicality with you. Your hand cradling his head to your chest allowed him to, feeling your own arousal grow tenfold worse.

After a quick wipe of your sticky hand on his already messy pajamas, you let your hand rub his chest, noticing his sensitive spots far too easily. He whimpered quietly when your fingers lightly ran over his pink nipples, and when your nails brushed his collarbones. 

By the time his breathing evened out, the room smelled of nothing but lavender, sticky release, and sleep.  

His sleep. 

Poor baby was worn out, overwhelmed from the pleasure, rightfully exhausted. 

You didn’t move until moonlight spilled through the curtains. Slipping away only to first get a warm, wet cloth to clean his tummy, then you changed into your coziest Miffy pajamas, pulling a new pair out for him too. You returned to find him sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. The collar glinted in the dark, like his release.

You gently cleaned his saliva-ridden lips and chin, then his tummy, making sure to get his snowy happy trail clean from release. After removing his dirty pajamas and pulling his new ones up, you threw the cloth and pants in the laundry hamper, settling beside him with burning cheeks and a full heart.

“Stay,” he mumbled, hoarse but lucid, as you slid under the covers.  

“Where else would I go? Silly kitty.” You curled into his side, head on his chest. His heartbeat soothed you, a steady drum beneath your ear.

Pleasuring him was scary at first, but… Now in bed, all comfy and warm with him, you felt far more confident, less shy about it. Sure, your panties were slick, messy with what he caused, but you’d deal with it later; now it was all about Satoru, your baby.

He hesitated, then wrapped around you, his nose in your hair. “…Thanks… ‘M sorry for-”  

“Be quiet, ‘Toru, don’t say dumb stuff,” you teased.  

He huffed a laugh, his ears burning pink, feeling surprisingly shy about being jerked off by his cute little owner. “Shut up.”  

But his big, warm arms tightened, his purr resuming, softer now, a lullaby. You kissed the hollow of his strong throat, just above the collar.  

“Next time,” you whispered, “don’t suffer alone. Please.”  

He didn’t answer. Just nuzzled closer, his tail swathing your legs like the world’s fluffiest blanket. 

But when you slept and felt his cheek nuzzle into your breasts, you knew the answer already.

Silly kitty.

End. 

Whoa! That was a lot, but I hope you truly enjoyed :) I wrote 90% of this half awake, since that's when my brain just locks in and spills the best writing I could ever pull out. I absolutely adore this little munchkin, so I will be making silly little drabbles, both sfw and nsfw, when I have the time. Btw, all my nsfw content is NOT for minors, and please do note I have this written in my intro, which is pinned. Take care of yourselves, lovelies :P

[sylvieserene]

I noticed some interesting parallels and similarities between Eternal Sugar cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie

Firstly, even design wise, Eternal Sugar Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie are the only bare-foot characters in their respective ancient/beast groups. (Look at the way they present themselves too, one hand raised and the other holding their significant object as their hover/fly)

Both are capable of flying, albeit one without wings and one with wings (cuz features of the beasts got swapped with the ancients and GC got the wings)

Both come off as the "Friendly/Easy to approach" ones of their respective groups

Both their kingdoms are floating

Both wear almost fully white robes/dresses (often associated with purity)

Both have been shown dealing with babies

We all know Pure Vanilla Cookie is based off on Jesus + Moses, Eternal Sugar Cookie has heavy influence from Biblical Angels

Even in their title screens, they hold things very similarly

Perhaps better seen here:

Both their kingdoms were regarded as "Paradise" in their own way

Now this is a bit speculative BUT even Eternal Sugar Cookie has heavy incorporation of snakes in her design just as Pure Vanilla Cookie is big in white lilies.

Snakes in Eternal Sugar Cookie's association:

Perhaps a reference to a certain Jester hmm? (It even has blue colours incorporated!)

White lilies in Pure Vanilla Cookie's association:

And we already know Pure Vanilla Cookie loves White Lily Cookie, could it be that Eternal Sugar Cookie loves Shadow Milk Cookie?

Basically if PV x WL is Robstar from Teen Titans then SM x ES is basically RobRae. Or a verse where evil PV and evil HB fell in love... And RobRae is canon in the evil verse of TT03 (Teen Tyrants verse) so could it be a similar situation? Just like them PV and HB see eachother platonically but maybe when evil they date?

Highly speculative ik but very interesting I believe as idt this is a coincidence

They even have angels in eachother's design

What do y'all think?

[grapejuicebrat]

just friends - d.s.

warnings: none just disgustingly cute imagine😛

my masterlist

———

You had always been close with Madelyn. Ever since you met on set of one of her projects, the two of you clicked instantly. Movie nights, spontaneous road trips, and long FaceTime calls became routine. Naturally, through her, you met Drew Starkey.

At first, he was just Madelyn’s friend. Then, he was your friend, too.

And maybe—just maybe—you wished he was something more.

It wasn’t your fault he made it so hard not to fall for him.

Like right now.

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Drew announced, dramatically throwing down his controller. “I can’t beat you at this game. It’s physically impossible.”

You grinned, biting your lip to hide your victory laugh. “You say that every time, and yet you still challenge me.”

Drew groaned, flopping backward onto the couch beside you, one arm draped lazily across his face. “Because I have hope. Hope that one day, I’ll witness a miracle and actually win.”

Madelyn, sitting across the room, snorted. “I’ve been trying to tell you, Drew. She’s undefeated.”

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, his blue eyes playful. “How does it feel being this good at everything?”

You shrugged, nudging his leg with your sock-clad foot. “It’s a burden, honestly.”

Drew laughed, the warm, boyish sound making your heart do a stupid little flip.

Madelyn, ever the observer, smirked knowingly but said nothing.

It wasn’t weird that Drew always ended up sitting next to you, right? That his arm would somehow end up draped across the couch behind you, or that his fingers absentmindedly toyed with the hem of your hoodie? Totally normal friend behavior.

Right?

“Okay, I want ice cream,” Madelyn declared, standing up and stretching. “You guys coming?”

Drew barely reacted. Instead, he turned his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in silent question.

You exhaled dramatically. “Fine, but only if I get to pick the music in the car.”

Drew grinned. “Deal.”

———

The three of you ended up at your favorite little ice cream shop, the kind with fairy lights hanging outside and an old-school jukebox playing soft tunes in the corner.

As you stood in line, Drew nudged your shoulder with his. “What are you getting?”

You pursed your lips. “Undecided. Might need to try a few flavors first.”

Drew rolled his eyes with a smile. “Of course you do.”

When it was finally your turn, you asked for a sample of at least three flavors before deciding. Drew just stood there, watching with amusement, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie.

“C’mon, just get cookies and cream,” he teased.

You scrunched your nose. “That’s your favorite.”

He grinned. “Exactly. Because it’s the best.”

You ended up going with a different flavor just to spite him. When you sat down at a small outdoor table, Drew immediately leaned over and stole a spoonful from your cup.

You gasped. “Drew!”

He just smirked. “What? You stole mine first.”

Madelyn, sitting across from you, wiggled her eyebrows. “You guys are cute.”

You nearly choked. “We’re—”

“Not dating,” Drew finished smoothly, though something unreadable flickered in his expression.

Madelyn just hummed, clearly unconvinced.

———

As the night went on, the three of you sat outside, talking and laughing under the glow of string lights. Drew’s knee bumped against yours more than once, but he didn’t move it away. When you shivered slightly from the night breeze, he wordlessly pulled off his hoodie and draped it over your shoulders, his fingertips grazing your collarbone for just a second too long.

Your stomach fluttered.

“Thanks,” you murmured, tugging it closer.

Drew just smiled, soft and warm. “Anytime.”

Madelyn, sipping her milkshake, smirked behind her straw. “You two are so oblivious.”

You turned to glare at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

She just shrugged. “Nothing. Just… funny how you steal each other’s food, sit way too close, share clothes…”

Drew chuckled. “We’re friends, Maddie.”

Madelyn hummed again like she knew something you didn’t. “Sure. Friends.”

———

Later, when Drew drove you home, the car was quiet except for the soft hum of the playlist you picked.

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “You know, Mads isn’t wrong.”

You looked at him, startled. “About what?”

Drew glanced at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “About us.”

Your heart skipped. “What do you mean?”

Drew exhaled, shaking his head with a small smile. “I don’t know. It’s just… I like being around you. Always have.”

Something warm settled in your chest. “I like being around you too.”

He turned to you again at a red light, something unreadable in his blue eyes. “Yeah?”

You nodded, barely breathing. “Yeah.”

Drew’s lips twitched like he wanted to say more, but the light turned green, and he faced forward again.

But the air between you felt different now.

Maybe you and Drew were just friends.

But the way he looked at you tonight?

Maybe you weren’t just anything.

[cumironi]

NOT FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

do you know what tea could affect your relationship? making you have an argument with your boyfriends because you thought they were overprotective and overbearing.

wc. | masterlist ( art © artist )

the sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over your backyard. the clear blue sky stretches endlessly above, dotted occasionally with fluffy white clouds that drift lazily by. the gentle breeze rustles the leaves of the big trees surrounding your yard, creating a soft symphony of nature that sets the perfect backdrop for a relaxing day.

you’re inside the house, standing in the kitchen with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air. the kettle hums softly as it heats the water, and you take a moment to gather your thoughts. the tranquility of the day is a stark contrast to the chaos of your usual life, filled with sorcery and battles against curses. here, in this peaceful moment, everything feels right.

you glance out the window to see gojo and geto sitting together under the shade of the trees. gojo leans back against the trunk, his signature playful grin lighting up his face as he talks animatedly about something that seems to amuse geto. his carefree energy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile as you watch the two of them. geto, with his arms crossed and a relaxed demeanor, listens intently, his lips curling into a soft smile as he occasionally chimes in.

after a few more moments, the kettle clicks off, bringing you back to your task. you pour the hot water into a teapot filled with your favorite blend of loose leaf tea, the leaves swirling gracefully as they steep. You take a moment to appreciate the simple act of making tea, finding comfort in the rhythm of your movements.

while the tea brews, you take a peek outside again. the sunlight dances on their skin, highlighting their features in a warm glow. gojo's hair seems to shimmer under the sunlight, and you can see the way he gestures animatedly, the light catching the mischief in his eyes. geto, on the other hand, appears more grounded, with a calm expression as he occasionally shoots gojo an exasperated look, as if to say, “what are you going on about now?”

after a few minutes, you pour the tea into three cups, adding a touch of honey to each one, knowing how much they both love the sweetness. you also grab a small plate of freshly baked cookies you made the day before, their warm, buttery scent still lingering in the air. with everything prepared, you step outside, the warmth of the sun enveloping you. the moment you appear, both of them turn their attention toward you, their faces lighting up with smiles.

as you carefully made your way to the backyard with the tray in hand, the warm evening breeze brushed against your skin. but just as you took another step, you felt your foot catch on something, and before you could react, you were falling forward. the tray slipped from your grasp, and everything seemed to slow down as the hot teas spilled, burning your arms. ‘tud! you hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through your body and your head smacking against the unforgiving earth.

a sharp pain shot through your skull, and you felt a warm, sticky sensation as a wound opened up on your forehead. your vision blurred for a moment, and a pained groan escaped your lips.

at the sound of the tray crashing and your body hitting the ground, gojo and geto's eyes widen as they witness the fall unfolding in front of them. they jump to their feet, moving towards you with a mix of concern and surprise on their faces.

“shit, baby!” the raven-haired sorcerer exclaims, worry etched across his features.

“are you okay?” gojo adds, his voice laced with concern. he kneels down beside you, quickly assessing your injuries.

you get up from the ground sit there, dazed and try to process what just happened. the world around you spins slightly, and you blink rapidly, trying to steady yourself. despite the stinging in your arms and the throbbing in your head, you forced a smile, hoping to ease their concern. “i’m okay,” you mumbled, though your voice was a bit shaky so your eyes, you look confused.

gojo and geto exchanged a concerned glance before their eyes returned to you. they could tell you were putting on a brave face, but they could also tell your fall had left you confused.

“bullshit,” geto mutters under his breath, not buying your attempt to downplay your pain. gojo gently reaches out, his fingers lightly brushing against the cut on your forehead. “you're bleeding. and your arms look like they were burned.”

the concern in gojo's voice is clear, and his eyes meet yours, searching for any sign of more serious injury.

“can you stand? we should get you inside and clean those burns.” he says, gently helping you to your feet.

meanwhile, geto gazes at you with a mixture of worry and irritation. “you shouldn't have tried to carry all that on your own like that. it's too much for one person,” he mutters, his tone slightly accusatory.

you blink up at them, feeling the warmth of their concern, but also a little embarrassed by the fuss. with a small, sheepish smile, you shrug slightly and say, “it’s just tea, baby. i’m fine, really.” you let out a soft laugh, trying to lighten the mood as you brush off the dirt from your clothes.

“no need to freak out, i’m tougher than i look.”

despite the sting from the burns and the throbbing in your head, you keep your tone light, hoping to ease their worries a bit.

gojo narrows his eyes at you and crosses his arms, clearly not convinced by your downplay of the situation. “tougher than you look or not, you still fell pretty hard. let's get you inside so we can check you for any other injuries.”

meanwhile, geto rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, a mix of concern and irritation on his face. “you're so damn stubborn. just accept our help for once.” gojo gently places a hand on your back, leading you inside the house. geto follows close behind, his arms crossed over his chest as he shoots you a disapproving look.

“you really should be more careful. what if you hit your head harder or break a bone?” he says, his voice stern but clearly laced with concern.

gojo shoots geto a look, silently signaling him to ease up a bit. he turns to you with a reassuring smile, his touch on your back gentle and comforting. “come on. let's clean you up and see how bad the damage is.”

gojo wraps one arm around your waist, supporting you as he gently guides you indoors. geto follows closely behind, his gaze trained on you like a hawk, his annoyance with your stubbornness clear in his eyes.

once they get you inside, they lead you to the living room, sitting you down on the couch. “stay here,” gojo instructs, a hint of command in his voice as he moves towards the first aid kit. after some moment, he quickly returns with the first aid kit, taking a seat next to you on the couch. he carefully opens it, pulling out some antiseptic and gauze.

“alright, let me take a look at those burns,” he says, his voice gentle and soothing. meanwhile, geto hovers nearby, his arms still crossed over his chest. his eyes are fixed on you, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of concern and irritation.

you bite your lip, glancing down at your hands resting in your lap, feeling a sting not just from the burns but from the way geto’s words hit you. you mumble softly, “i can carry a tray by myself... it’s just a tray with teas and snacks.“ your voice wavers slightly, the guilt creeping in as you pick at the fabric of your clothes. “i didn’t think it was a big deal… i just wanted to bring you guys something nice.”

you look up at geto, his expression a mix of worry and frustration, and then over at gojo, who’s focused on the first aid kit, his movements a little more tense than usual. the weight of their concern settles on your shoulders, making you feel even worse. “i’m sorry,” you add quietly, eyes flickering down again, feeling like you messed up more than you intended.

geto's expression softens a bit at your apology, his annoyance replaced with a hint of guilt.

“it's not that we don't appreciate the gesture,” gojo chimes in, his voice gentle as he continues to tend to your wounds. “but we don't need material things to feel loved. we just want you to be careful.” he looks up at you with a reassuring smile, his eyes holding a mixture of compassion and understanding.

“we care about you, that's all. we just don't want you getting hurt because you're trying to do too much.”

you shift uncomfortably under their gazes, feeling their words sink in, but you can't help but cling to your stubbornness. “it's really not too much,” you insist quietly, your voice still a little shaky but firm. “i just wanted to do something nice for you both. i can handle a tray—”

but before you can finish, you hear them both tsk in unison, their irritation flaring up again. gojo gives you a stern look, his brows furrowing as he presses a bit harder than necessary with the bandage. “you say that, but look where it got you,” he mutters in annoyance, clearly frustrated by your insistence on downplaying what happened.

geto watches the scene unfold, his irritation mounting again. he pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“why do you insist on being so damn stubborn?” he grumbles, his patience wearing thin. “we don't care about the goddamn snack tray, we care about you. you could've gotten seriously hurt.”

he crosses his arms once more, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of concern and anger. “how many times do we have to tell you that the only thing we want is for you to be safe and healthy?” gojo finishes wrapping your wounds in silence, his touch still gentle even though his irritation is evident.

once he's done, he sits back and looks at you, his eyes a mixture of concern and annoyance. “we know you want to do nice things for us, but you don't have to push yourself.”

geto lets out another sigh, his arms still crossed. “he's right. we don't need you to go out of your way like this. we just want you to be careful and take care of yourself first and foremost.”

you look up at them, confusion flickering in your eyes. you’re a sorcerer, just like them—used to fighting curses and enduring much worse than a slight burn or a bump on the head. to you, this was nothing more than a small accident, not something that should have them this upset. “it’s just a tea,” you murmur, your voice low and sincere. “i’m not pushing myself. i just wanted to do something nice for you guys. it’s really not a big deal.”

you can see their concern, but you don’t quite understand why something as simple as bringing them a snack is being seen as you overextending yourself. you’ve handled way worse. “i mean, come on, it’s a burn and a scratch. i’m not exactly falling apart over here,” you add, glancing between them with a frown.

gojo's brows furrow in frustration. “it's more than just a burn and a scratch. you could have seriously hurt yourself, and for what? a damn tea tray?” he snaps, his voice rising slightly, just a little, enough to send you a sign that he is angry.

geto's jaw clenches, his irritation grows with each word you say. “it's not about the damn tea, and you know it. it's about you not taking care of yourself. goddamnit, why is that so hard for you to understand?”

you scoff, frustration bubbling up inside you as their words hit a nerve. you feel their protectiveness, but it’s starting to feel suffocating. “why is it so hard for you two to understand?” you snap back, start to get defensive, eyes narrowing as you meet their intense stares. “i get it, okay? but it’s not a big deal, and you’re making it into one. it’s just a tea tray. i’m not made of fucking glass.”

gojo's eyes narrow in response, his own irritation flaring to match yours. “you're right, you're not made of glass, but that doesn't mean you should act like an idiot and put yourself in danger.”

geto runs a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated sigh. “it's not about the damn tea! it's about you not listening to us or taking care of yourself. we care about you, more than you can imagine,” he says, his voice tinged with both frustration and concern.

you cross your arms, feeling defensive as their irritation continues to hang heavy in the air, the bubble of anger start hugging you. “i know you’re worried, but i’m not some delicate flower that needs constant watching. i just wanted to do something nice, and now we’re arguing like it’s the end of the world.”

geto’s jaw tightens further, and gojo’s brows knit together even more, but you keep your ground, refusing to back down. “i appreciate that you care, i do. but you’re blowing this way out of proportion. why can’t you just let it go?” you add, your voice softer with defiance, feeling like this whole thing is spiraling into something it never needed to be.

gojo lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. “we're not treating you like some delicate flower, baby. we just want you to listen to us when we say we don't want you putting yourself in danger over something so trivial.”

geto steps forward, anger flashing in his eyes. “how many times do we have to tell you that we care about you more than anything? we don't care about the tea, we care about you. goddamnit, why is that so hard for you to understand?”

you scoff loudly, rolling your eyes as you push back against their intensity. “oh please,” you snap, the sarcasm dripping from your voice. “you two are always treating me like i’m some fucking porcelain doll.” your words come out sharper than intended, but you’re fed up with their overprotectiveness.

you start mimicking them, your voice mocking as you wave your hands dramatically. “baby, don’t do this, don’t do that, you’re going to get hurt. don’t touch this, don’t touch that,” you mimic their voice, your tone exaggerated and annoyed. “like, do you hear yourselves? it’s constant! it’s like i can’t do anything without you hovering over me.”

gojo's eyes narrow, his patience wearing thin. “we're not treating you like a porcelain doll. we're treating you like we love you. and when you love someone, you want to protect them from getting hurt.”

geto's jaw clenches, his anger rising in response to your mimicking. “you know what, fine. maybe we do hover too much. but can you blame us? you have a tendency to be reckless, and you never listen to us when we say ‘no.’”

gojo runs a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. “look, we’re not trying to control you. we just want you to be safe. and lately, it feels like you’re constantly pushing the boundaries, doing things you shouldn’t, and completely disregarding our concerns.”

geto's irritation is clear in his expression as standing near you, hovering with his emotions. “we know you’re strong, and we know you can handle yourself. but sometimes, it’s like you want to push your limits just to prove something, and it scares the hell out of us.“

you roll your eyes, frustration boiling over as you feel cornered by their words. “oh, please, spare me the love speech,” you retort with sarcasm, your voice laced with annoyance. “you’re so overly protective, it’s suffocating. i appreciate that you care, but i’m not some weakling that needs constant protecting.”

you can’t help but feel exasperated as you continue, your tone sharp. you glare at them, feeling like no matter how much you try to explain, they just see you as fragile.

“it’s like you think i’m weak or something,” you add, voice rising with the frustration that’s been building. “i don’t understand why you’re always on my case, like i’m going to break at any second. i’m not made of glass, and i don’t need you constantly breathing down my neck to make sure i’m okay.”

you take a step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, trying to put some distance between you and the suffocating concern they keep throwing your way. “i get that you’re worried, but you’re treating me like i can’t do anything without messing up or getting hurt. it’s not fair. i’ve fought curses, i’ve faced danger, and i’ve survived just like you have. so why can’t you see that i’m not some helpless damsel who needs to be saved all the time?”

your voice wavers slightly at the end, the mix of anger and hurt making it hard to keep your composure. you just want them to see you as their equal, not someone who constantly needs looking after.

as you continue your tirade, gojo's patience snaps.

“you know what?” he snaps, his voice rising to match your anger. “we do see you as our equal. we see you as someone who's strong, capable, and independent. but can you blame us for wanting to protect you? can you blame us for wanting to make sure you're not getting hurt just for some stupid tea? we care about you, damnit, and it feels like you're constantly putting yourself in harms way just for shits and giggles!”

his words hit you like a slap, the sharpness of his voice cutting through your anger and leaving you stunned. you stare at him, wide-eyed and speechless, as his frustration spills out. you know you’re not purposely trying to hurt yourself, and they know that too. accidents happen, and not everything is within your control.

you open your mouth to respond, but the weight of his words leaves you feeling deflated, like anything you say would just add fuel to the fire. their concern is suffocating, but your own frustration is blinding, and you realize this argument is going nowhere.

you look at gojo, searching his eyes for some understanding, but all you see is the mix of worry and anger that has been bubbling between you all. feeling a lump form in your throat, you quickly decide that it’s not worth continuing this back-and-forth. without saying a word, you turn on your heel and walk away, your footsteps heavy with a mix of hurt and resignation.

you can hear geto call after you, but you don’t stop. right now, it feels like anything more would just make things worse. so, you keep walking, knowing that some space might be the only thing that’ll help any of you see clearly.

gojo watches you storm away, the anger slowly fading to be replaced with a pang of hurt in his chest. he knows he could have handled that better, but your stubbornness has a way of getting under his skin.

he tries to steady his breathing, trying to push down the emotions churning within him. gojo looks over at geto, who looks as frustrated as he feels.

“great,” gojo mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “i shouldn't have snapped like that.”

geto shakes his head, the irritation still evident in his expression. “no, you had every right to be angry,” he says, crossing his arms. “she's acting like she's goddamn invincible. she doesn't understand the pain we feel when she puts herself in danger like this.”

sitting by the pond, you let the cool water lap against your legs as you try to calm your racing thoughts. tears stream down your face, a mix of frustration and sadness pouring out as you think about the argument. you feel a deep sense of hurt, knowing that no matter how much you want to show them you’re capable and strong, they always seem to see your actions as reckless.

you wipe at the dried blood on your forehead with the back of your hand, inadvertently smearing it more, and the stinging sensation only adds to your emotional turmoil. you think about how, since you started dating them, their constant hovering and worry have sometimes made you feel stifled, unable to do anything without fear of their disapproval.

you understand that their overprotectiveness comes from a place of love, but it feels like every gesture you make, every small attempt to contribute or show affection, is overshadowed by their anxiety. it’s hard not to feel unappreciated when you see their frustration instead of the gratitude you hoped for.

sitting alone by the pond, the peaceful surroundings offer a sharp contrast to the emotional storm inside you. you let yourself cry, the tears mixing with the cooling water as you try to make sense of it all. you wish they could see that you’re not trying to get hurt or push boundaries for the sake of it, but just to share in the small moments and show them that you care too.

for now, you need this space to process everything, hoping that in time, the argument will settle and you can find a way to make them understand without all the heightened emotions.

gojo and geto stay standing in the living room, the weight of your absence hanging heavily in the air. geto lets out a heavy sigh, his arms still crossed. “we shouldn't have gotten so worked up, that was stupid.”

gojo nods, “yeah, but she drives me nuts sometimes with her stubbornness.”

geto raises an eyebrow. “and you think you're any better? you can be just as stubborn as she is.” gojo rolls his eyes, he grumbles, “shut up, i am not that bad.”

geto smirks, the tension starting to ease between them. “oh really? do you want me to list all the times you’ve been a stubborn ass?”

gojo huffs, offended. “hey, i’m not that bad.”

geto gives him a skeptical look, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “just the other day you refused to listen to me when i told you not to eat an entire pack of candy before dinner.”

gojo's cheeks flush slightly, caught in his own stubbornness. “that was different.” gojo rubs his temples, feeling a headache forming from the tension. “we just want her to be safe. why is that so hard for her to understand?”

geto lets out another sigh. “i know, i know. she's just... she's so used to handling things on her own. it's hard for her to let us in and accept help.”

gojo nods, looking in the direction you stormed off. “i just wish she wouldn't take it as a personal attack every time we try to protect her. we're not trying to control her.”

geto rubs the back of his neck, frustration clear on his face. “i know, but she sees it as us thinking she's weak and incapable. it's like she forgets we see her as our equal, not just some fragile doll.”

there's a moment of tense silence before gojo speaks up again. “do you think... do you think we're suffocating her?” geto's expression softens, considering gojo's question. “it's possible,” he admits. “we may have been a little too protective, a little too... overwhelming.”

gojo lets out a weary sigh, leaning against the wall. “we just want to keep her safe.”

geto nods, the worry in his expression showing how much your safety truly means to them. “we do. but... maybe we're going about it the wrong way. we need to find a balance.”

you stay by the pond until night falls, the cool air eventually nudging you back inside the house. your wounds still sting a bit, but you know it’s better to head inside, especially since your boyfriends don’t like you being outside at night without proper warmth if they’re not around.

you find your way to the kitchen, where you see them talking softly. gojo is perched on a bar stool, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, while geto stands behind the counter, preparing dinner. the soft light from the kitchen casts a warm glow, a stark contrast to the chill outside.

you hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight of them before stepping into the kitchen. gojo’s eyes flicker toward you, a look of surprise crossing his face as he sees you. geto, noticing your presence, immediately stops what he’s doing and turns to face you, his own concern evident.

“hey,” you say softly, not meeting their eyes directly. you don’t want to reopen the argument but feel the need to acknowledge their presence.

gojo’s gaze softens as he takes in your still slightly disheveled appearance. “you alright?” he asks, his voice gentle but laced with worry. you nod, trying to muster a small, reassuring smile. “yeah, i’m fine. just needed some time to cool off.”

geto steps closer, his eyes scanning your face and the smudge of dried blood on your forehead. “you shouldn’t be out there alone like that,” he says quietly, his tone softer than before but still carrying a note of reprimand.

you sigh, feeling the weight of their concern and the argument that still lingers between you. “i know,” you reply. “i just needed some space.” gojo and geto exchange glances, relieved that you're at least somewhat okay but still concerned about your wounds and your emotional state.

gojo crosses his arms, shifting anxiously on his stool. “we were worried.”

geto nods, mirroring gojo's stance. “we know things got heated earlier, but we were really worried about you being out there alone like that.”

gojo runs a hand through his hair, the tension still crackling between the three of you. “we just want to make sure you're safe. we... we care about you, you know that, right?”

gojo softly sighs as he notices the dried blood on your forehead, a concerned look on his face. ”come here,” he says gently, extending a hand towards you. “let me clean that wound and get rid of the dried blood.”

he guides you to a bar stool beside him, his touch careful and reassuring. his eyes are focused and tender as he prepares to tend to your injuries, the frustration from earlier replaced by a more soothing concern. geto watches from the behind counter, his expression softer now, reflecting his own mix of relief and apology.

as gojo carefully dabs at your wound with a soft cloth, his eyes catch the tear stains on your cheeks and the redness in your eyes. his movements still for a moment, a pang of guilt and worry tightening in his chest. “hey...” he murmurs softly, his voice filled with regret as he gently lifts your chin to try and meet your gaze, but you still look away, avoiding their eyes.

geto’s breath heavy slightly when he notices the signs of your crying. he took a seat on your other side beside you, his expression melting into one of deep remorse. “oh, sweetheart…” he whispers, his voice cracking just a bit. “we didn’t want to make you feel like this.”

they both exchange a look, the earlier frustration completely washed away, replaced by a heavy sense of regret for having upset you. gojo brushes a thumb gently against your cheek, wiping away the lingering tears. “we’re so sorry,” he says softly, his tone earnest, “we never wanted to make you feel this way.”

as you sit between them, the weight of their concern and guilt washing over you, a sense of vulnerability slowly replaces the anger from earlier. gojo and geto's touch is gentle and caring, their eyes filled with remorse and apology.

“we... we just want you to understand,” gojo continues, his voice is still soft. “we care about you so much, and it kills us to see you in danger or hurt.”

geto nods in agreement, his hand coming up to gently brush aside a strand of your hair. “we should have been more understanding. we shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of their words settle over you. the vulnerability in their eyes softens the edges of your frustration, but there's still a lingering ache from how things unfolded earlier. you look down, fiddling with your hands as you gather your thoughts.

“i get it,” you begin quietly, your voice slightly shaky but steady. “i understand why you worry, why you’re always hovering. it’s because you care, and i never said anything about it because i know it comes from love.”

you glance up briefly, catching the guilt in their eyes before looking away again. “but the way you got so mad at me earlier for something i couldn’t control… that’s what hurts. i’m not trying to be reckless, i just wanted to do something nice for you two, without constantly hearing ‘don’t do this’ or ‘don’t do that.’”

you pause, your voice thick with the weight of your emotions. “you both always do everything for me, and i just… i want to give back, even if it’s something small like making tea. i’m not weak, and i’m not going to break. sometimes accidents happen, but it doesn’t mean i’m pushing myself too hard.”

the room falls into a soft silence, your words hanging in the air as they take in everything you’ve said. you can see the realization flicker across their faces, the way their concern had come off as controlling rather than caring, and how deeply it had affected you.

as you finish speaking, you see both gojo and geto's expressions transform, guilt and understanding replacing the frustration from earlier. their eyes reflect the weight of your words, and they know you're right. their protective tendencies have sometimes crossed the line into control, even if it wasn't their intention.

gojo's voice is softer, gentler than earlier, as he responds. “i... we didn't realize it was coming off like that. i guess we just... we're just so used to trying to keep you safe.”

geto nods, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. “we didn't realize that our protective behavior was making you feel like we thought you were weak. that's not how we see you at all,” geto continues, his voice filled with remorse.

gojo interjects, a hint of desperation in his voice. “we never viewed you as breakable or fragile. we just... we just can't bear the thought of something happening to you. but that doesn't give us the right to control your every move. we... we overstepped.”

they both fall silent for a moment, the weight of their actions sinking in further. then, geto speaks again, his voice laced with regret.

“we’re sorry, sweetheart,” he says, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “we never wanted to make you feel like you couldn’t do anything without our say-so. we were being overly protective, we see that now. we just...” he trails off, swallowing the lump in his throat.

gojo chimes in, his voice filled with guilt, “we just couldn't bear the thought of losing you.”

you listen to their words, feeling the sincerity in every syllable, and the walls of frustration that had built up around your heart start to crumble. the intensity of their emotions, their fear of losing you, and the realization of how their actions have affected you sink deep. you can see the regret and guilt etched on their faces, and it tugs at your own heartstrings.

with a small sigh, you squeeze geto’s hand back, glancing between the two of them. “i know you both mean well,” you say softly, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. “but i���m not going anywhere. you don’t have to worry about me so much that it stops me from doing simple things.”

you look up at them, your eyes still glistening but filled with understanding. “i just want to feel like i can take care of you, too. that i can do things for you without feeling like you’re constantly waiting for me to mess up or get hurt.”

there’s a pause as you take a deep breath, letting go of some of the hurt from earlier. “i love you both, and i appreciate how much you care, but i need you to trust me, too. trust that i know my limits, and that i’ll ask for help when i really need it.”

they listen intently, the weight of your words sinking in. their expressions soften, the guilt and remorse in their eyes deepening.

gojo nods, a look of understanding settling on his face. “we... we get it,” he says, his voice laced with a hint of shame.

geto’s grip on your hand tightens slightly, his voice quieter but no less sincere. “we’ll try to do better. we’ll try to trust you, we just… we just get so worried when things happen, like they did today.”

you gently pull your arm from geto's grasp, showing them the spot where the burn had been. “see? i’m fine,” you say, your tone softer now but still firm. “i heal fast, and it was just a small accident. nothing major.” you point to your forehead, where the cut has already start to heal, a small reminder of how resilient you are.

“i’m not saying you shouldn’t care, but i’m not made of glass,” you continue, looking between them. “i can handle a few bumps and bruises. i just want you to see that i’m stronger than you give me credit for.”

as you show them the healing burn and the nearly faded cut, they cannot help but feel a mixture of relief and shame. they know you're right, that you heal quickly, but the worry always lurks in their minds.

gojo runs a hand through his hair, his voice laced with remorse. “we know you’re not delicate, we just…”

geto cuts in, his gaze flitting to the almost healed wound on your forehead. “we just panic when we see you hurt. it’s hard… it’s hard for us to see you in pain, even just a little.”

you look at them both, your voice steady but gentle. “i’m fine now, really. you know better than anyone that sorcerers are built different. a little scratch like this,” you gesture to your forehead, “it’s nothing. it’ll be gone by morning.”

you can see the mix of relief and lingering worry in their eyes, but you continue, hoping to ease their minds. “i get it, okay? i understand why you’re worried. but you don’t have to be so scared every time something happens to me. i can handle it.”

geto and gojo exchange a look, your words sinking in. they can see the truth in your statement, that you're no delicate flower that needs constant shielding. they know that you're strong, capable, and they should trust your abilities.

gojo lets out a weary sigh, finally nodding reluctantly. “you’re right,” he says.

geto nods as well, a look of understanding passing over his face. he reaches out and gently takes your hand again. “we know you can handle yourself. we just… we just care about you too much to not worry.”

you squeeze geto’s hand gently, looking between the two of them. “can we just stop now?” you say softly, your voice tinged with exhaustion. “because if we keep talking about it, it’s never going to end. you guys always find a way to worry about me.”

geto lets out a small chuckle, though it’s more resigned than amused. “yeah, we do, don’t we?”

they both notice the weariness in your voice, and how the conversation just keeps going in circles. gojo lets out a weary sigh, running a hand through his messy hair while geto’s laughter is more bitter than amused.

“yeah,” he says, his grip on your hand loosening slightly. “we do.”

the tension in the room lessens a bit, replaced by a sense of mutual understanding. they both nod, acknowledging their tendency to worry excessively about your well-being.

you take a deep breath, feeling the tension in the air begin to fade. “i promise i’ll try to be less reckless with myself, hm?” you say softly, your tone sincere as you look at both of them. “i know you just want what’s best for me.”

they both soften at your words, the weight of their worry slightly alleviated. gojo grins weakly, a hint of his usual playful demeanour peeking through. “less reckless, huh? that's a tall order for you.”

geto sighs, a small smile tugging at his lips. “we do want what's best for you. we just wish it didn't have to come with so much anxiety.” you roll your eyes, a small, amused smile forming on your lips. “you two are impossible,” you mumble, leaning in to press a quick kiss to each of their cheeks. “assholes,” you add, your voice filled with affection rather than malice.

they both snort at your fond insult, the previous tension all but gone now. gojo's lips turn up in a cocky grin, his usual bravado returning. “you love it,” he teases, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him.

geto lets out a soft chuckle, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “we may be assholes, but we're yours,” he replies, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss.

they continue to pepper your face with light kisses, their affections filling the room once again. gojo speaks first, his voice laced with amusement. “so, does this mean you'll be less reckless now, hm?”

geto nods in agreement, his hands still gently holding your face. “please do. we might actually start going gray from all the worry.” you nod, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “anything for my overbearing assholes,” you say, your tone light and affectionate.

both gojo and geto snort at the term 'overbearing assholes boyfriends'. gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, while geto just shakes his head, unable to hide his amused grin. “overbearing assholes,” gojo repeats, chuckling. “can't say that's too far off the mark.”

geto adds with a smirk, “but we're your assholes. and we're pretty damn sure you wouldn't have us any other way.” you chuckle, nodding with a playful sigh. “sadly,” you say, leaning in to give each of them a soft peck on the lips.

[whitecompri]

hei cutie ~ , I'm glad I found your blog, as a fellow Sonic fan, I'm very pleased.

And also as a fan of all the hedgehog characters in Sonic, can I make a request?

Sonic, Shadow, Silver, Scourge x On a picnic date with fem human s/o Who like to use their thighs as a pillow to rest on or rub and stroke their heads while they sleep. S/o sometimes likes to tease them when they are lying on her lap.

Pretty please....

Don't forget to take some rest

Going on a Picnic With your Hedgie

Pairing: Sonic x Reader; Shadow x Reader; Silver x Reader; Scourge x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes

A/N: Thanks for the request! It was a lot of fun thinking up each unique scenario for each hedgehog, but I liked the end result, I hope you like it too!

Sonic

Maybe it should have been a mistake to let him choose the picnic spot, but he asked so sweetly, with such an adorable look on his face, that in the end, you gave in, letting your restless boyfriend decide the location.

In the end, Sonic concluded that it was a great idea to have a picnic at the top of a hill, right in the middle of the strong winds up there. But there was no complaining—you allowed it to happen.

You paused for a moment on your way up the hill, catching your breath. Looking up, you saw the top of the hill; you were almost there, but the path to get to this point had been tough and exhausting. Your eyes narrowed when your peripheral vision caught a blue blur dashing up at full speed. A few seconds later, it raced down the hill again.

Sometimes, it was hard to keep up with his fast-paced rhythm.

Gathering your strength, you composed yourself and resumed walking up the steep terrain, stepping carefully to avoid slipping or getting your foot caught on a rock.

An unnatural gust of wind rushed past you, tossing your hair up. Looking ahead, you spotted a very impatient blue hedgehog.

"Are you going to take much longer? I could have had ten picnics already with how slow you are." He flashed a teasing grin at you.

"I'm going to have to give you some lessons on human limits when we get back home," you said, still out of breath as you climbed another tricky part of the hill.

"Oh, remind me later—I forgot the soda. Be right back!"

Before you could even blink, the sound of him breaking the sound barrier echoed across the hill. You glanced back, seeing nothing but the bluish streak he left behind.

Sighing, you shook your head and refocused on making your way up the rest of the path. After a few more strenuous steps, you finally reached the top of the hill, letting out a satisfied murmur as you reached your destination.

Your eyes immediately landed on the picnic blanket your speedy boyfriend had laid out and the basket of snacks he had prepared.

Once again, that familiar breeze hit your side. Looking to your left, you saw Sonic standing there, holding a bottle of soda.

"So? Do you like the place?" He gave you a warm smile.

"Aside from the fact that I nearly passed out getting up here..." Your eyes scanned the location, taking in how breathtaking the view was from up there. "Yeah, I love it. It's an amazing spot. Thank you, love."

"No problem, babe. Now sit down, let's eat—now that we’ve got the drinks too."

He eagerly walked over to the blanket, sitting at one end. You followed, settling down beside him.

"What did you bring?" Crossing your legs and resting on your arm, you curiously scanned the basket, already guessing what he had packed.

Sonic pulled out some simple white porcelain plates, placing them in the middle of the blanket. Then, buzzing with excitement, he took out a few chili dogs, carefully setting them on the plates. Next, he pulled out a container of fries, placing them in a deeper dish, along with a ketchup bottle beside it. Finally, he brought out a few homemade heart-shaped cookies.

"Did you make these?" Your eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Hm? I wanted to do something nice for my gorgeous girlfriend. I hope you like them... And I swear I didn’t accidentally go overboard with the flour—it was totally intentional." He gave you an amused grin.

"I'm sure they'll be delicious, even with your questionable culinary skills." You nudged his shoulder playfully, making his mischievous smile turn into a small smirk.

"That's because you haven't tried my specialty yet—Gourmet Burnt Instant Noodles." He raised a hand dramatically, as if to glorify his disastrous dish.

"Hmm, sounds divine. How about making it for dinner tonight? I have some leftover food poisoning medicine in the cabinet, so we can enjoy it worry-free."

You both laughed at the playful banter. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead against yours, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Let’s eat the chili dogs while they're still warm. I made everything with care for you."

--*--

You chewed on one of the last fries, grabbed another, dipped it in ketchup, and ate it. By now, after a while, the strong wind at the top of the hill had turned into a pleasant breeze, making the whole atmosphere much cozier.

Beside you, Sonic stretched his arms above his head.

"Well, that was a great meal... Now for the best part!"

Without hesitation, he practically threw himself into your lap, closing his eyes and placing his hands behind his head, fully enjoying how soft your thighs were.

"Now this is the life," he sighed in pure satisfaction.

"I didn’t know you could actually stay still," you teased, taking a sip of your soda.

"Well, only when it's worth it." He grinned, shifting slightly to get even more comfortable in your lap.

Your hand instinctively reached out, running through his soft, blue fur in slow, soothing motions.

Your fingers drifted toward his fuzzy ears, tracing circles around them. Immediately, you felt his body tense slightly, his fur subtly bristling.

"Careful there, babe, you know that's a weak spot..." He cracked open one eye to glance at you.

"I know, that’s why I’m doing it." Your eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Oh, you’re asking for payback, princess..." He smirked, flashing one of his fangs.

You laughed, deciding to play it safe and return to simply stroking his fur. He let out a soft chuckle, relaxing again and closing his eyes.

However, at that moment, your gaze locked onto something beside you—a stray bird feather lying on the picnic blanket. A mischievous smile crept onto your lips as you set your cup aside and reached for the feather.

Taking a deep breath to suppress your laughter and avoid giving yourself away, you brought the feather close to his nose, gently brushing it against his nostrils.

Sonic’s immediate reaction was to scrunch his nose, twitching it in confusion at the unfamiliar sensation. One of his hands moved from behind his head, lazily rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. At that moment, you pulled the feather away, letting him scratch.

Just as he thought the itch was gone, you brought the feather back, swiping it quickly across his nose.

His nose twitched again, his expression contorting as he turned his head to the side, sneezing lightly before rubbing his nose against his arm. When he settled back down, his eyes snapped open, locking onto the feather in your hand and the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"My girlfriend is feeling extra playful today, huh?" His voice was low and amused. "I hope you’re ready for a counterattack..." His gaze narrowed.

"And what exactly are you going to do?" You challenged, curious to see what he had in mind.

However, your eyes widened in shock when his muzzle brushed against your thigh, and you suddenly felt his fangs graze the soft skin of your leg, sending a shiver up your spine.

"Hey! What are you—" Your gaze shifted to one of indignation as you raised your hands to stop him.

But you weren’t fast enough. A playful chuckle escaped him as he nipped you again.

"I warned you, babe..." He pulled away quickly, dodging your hands as you tried to stop him. "Now it’s my turn..."

Before you could react, he lunged at you, this time playfully nipping at your side over your shirt.

"You little—" You laughed, the sensation both surprising and ticklish as his teeth grazed your body.

"Sonic, I don’t have fur to hide your little bite marks!" One of your hands gripped his shoulder while the other supported you from behind, keeping you from falling as he got closer.

"Perfect..." He pinned you down, placing a hand on either side of your body. His face hovered close to yours as he pressed a small kiss to your chin. Then, his muzzle tilted up, and you felt the warmth of his lips on yours, the soft fur brushing against your skin in a mix of tickles and gentle caresses.

Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut, but the kiss was brief. He pulled away, stealing one last peck before gazing at you with an intense, love-struck expression.

"Now, I plan to resume my peaceful nap on your lap, babe. And if my girlfriend tries any more tricks... I’ll retaliate with more than just little bites."

You chuckled softly as he looked at you with hooded eyes, utterly smitten.

"Is that a threat or an offer?"

"It's up to you..." So, he went back to lying peacefully on her lap, closing his eyes and relaxing in that late afternoon.

Shadow

When you asked Shadow where he’d like to have the picnic, at first, he remained silent, lost in thought with his arms crossed, until he finally opened his mouth slightly to respond.

"I know a place..."

And so, now you were walking peacefully through the flower field, your silent boyfriend at your side, attentively accompanying you. He carried the towels and the picnic basket, searching for the best spot to set everything up.

Shadow was always very considerate, never letting you carry heavy things or anything like that. He also never left you behind while walking—he patiently followed your pace, wearing the same grumpy expression as always.

But deep down, he was loving every second of it and would do anything to have more moments like this with you. In a quiet and peaceful place, without worrying about others judging your relationship or interrupting your date.

"This looks good." The black hedgehog stopped in front of a small clearing, a little distance from the thicket you both had walked through. With your help, the cloth was soon spread out on the ground.

Shadow then sat down on the blanket, and you followed, sitting beside him with your legs crossed.

"I brought something for you..." With somewhat hesitant movements, he reached into the basket and pulled out a gray container. As he opened it, the wonderful scent of salmon with cream cheese filled the air, revealing that Shadow had apparently prepared them himself.

"You made these?" You smiled at him.

"Yes..." He looked away for a second. "Rouge said you’d like this recipe."

"I loved it, and I’ll tell you, if you keep cooking like this for me, I’ll end up falling even more in love with you."

Lowering your body, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, making him close his eyes momentarily and let out a quiet hum of approval.

Wanting to reciprocate, he leaned in and brushed his lips against your cheek before pulling back.

"There’s more." He continued unpacking, taking out a jar of coffee beans, a thermos of coffee, and finally, a plate with two mouth-watering pieces of chocolate cake. "I didn’t make this one... but someone insisted on making it for me to bring you."

"Care to tell me who?" You crossed your arms.

"I don’t reveal my sources..."

"I figured. But at least the cake looks good."

Shadow let out a quiet, appreciative hum, placing the plate alongside the other items.

"You can start eating now..." The hedgehog said, sitting with his arms crossed beside you, watching you intently.

"Aren’t you having anything?"

"After you." Shadow replied briefly, keeping his gaze on you.

A small smile formed on your lips as you reached for one of the salmon onigiri, bringing it close to him. Shadow raised a hand in a gesture for you to stop.

"I’ll eat later... Enjoy as much as you want first."

Growing impatient, you leaned closer to him, lowering your body to his level. In a sudden movement, you playfully nibbled his sensitive ear, making him let out a brief, quiet gasp. His ears instinctively twitched back, and his shoulders tensed.

"Why did you do that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I’ll do it again if you don’t take the onigiri."

Shadow stared at you in silence for a few seconds. Then, making a decision, he uncrossed his arms, reached for the onigiri, and took a small bite, closing his eyes as he chewed.

He remained silent while eating, and you just sat there, frozen, admiring how your tough boyfriend now looked like nothing more than an adorable kitten. Every time his jaw moved to chew, his ears made a short, subtle twitch to the sides, making the scene the most precious thing in the world.

"Is there something on my face?" He asked quietly, running a hand over his face, trying to wipe away whatever you were looking at. You just laughed.

"No, Shadow, there's nothing but the adorable face of my boyfriend."

It was noticeable that he froze for a split second at your words, possibly blushing, then, letting out a small "hmph," he went back to eating his onigiri.

He was the cutest thing in the world.

--*--

After eating, you were sitting with your legs stretched out, supporting yourself with one hand while the other held a cup of coffee, enjoying the caffeine after the delicious chocolate cake.

Your gaze was focused on the surrounding flower field, so much so that you didn’t notice the soft rustling of fabric approaching until you felt his fur and soft quills press against your thighs.

Looking down in surprise, you found none other than Shadow. His eyes were closed, arms crossed, and his ear twitched slightly to the side, picking up a nearby sound while he breathed peacefully. He had nestled himself comfortably, using your lap as a pillow, resting his cheek against your thigh.

Unable to resist, your hands began tracing over his black and red quills, feeling how soft and relaxed they were now—a stark contrast to when Shadow was in defensive mode. In fact, running your hands through his quills was now more soothing for you than for him, and you were sure you’d end up falling asleep sitting up if you continued.

Sighing softly, you watched his face. That’s when an idea popped into your head. Turning slightly, you reached for a small white flower, plucking it from the stem and gently placing it between his quills. And suddenly, you had fallen in love with the idea of covering his quills in flowers.

Over time, Shadow began to notice that your touch on his quills was no longer just stroking. Confused, he opened his eyes and turned slightly to glance back at you.

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly.

"Decorating you." You smiled, continuing your work of placing tiny flowers along his quills.

"Hmph." He turned back, closing his eyes and settling in again. "As long as this stays between us..."

"No problem, Rouge will be the first one I tell." You teased.

Immediately, Shadow lifted his head, sitting up again to look at you. In the process, some of the flowers fell off, which you quickly picked up to put back on him later. Shadow sat beside you, facing you directly.

"No one is supposed to know about this..." He took your hand, picking up one of the flowers you held and carefully tucking it into your hair. You felt your face warm slightly.

"Relax, love, this stays just between us..."

Nodding at your words, he once again laid his head on your lap, resting a hand over your knee while pressing his cheek back against your thigh.

Not wasting a second, you lowered your head to him, kissing his forehead and trailing soft kisses along it, feeling his soft fur against your lips. Then, your lips hovered near his ears as you took a deep breath deliberately against them. He tensed immediately, a shiver running down his spine.

"Careful, [Y/N]. Don’t tease me..." He warned without opening his eyes.

Laughing, your lips neared his muzzle.

One of his eyes slowly opened, gazing at you. His hand gently squeezed your leg as a silent warning, but you didn’t stop, continuing to play with your boyfriend.

In a swift motion, catching you off guard, one of his hands flew to the back of your neck, pulling you close, pressing your face against his. Shadow turned his head at the same time, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss before pulling away shortly after.

"I warned you, and I won’t say it again... If you keep this up, I won’t hold back."

Now blushing, you let out a soft laugh before returning to delicately placing flowers in his quills again.

Silver

Since you asked him to choose a place for a picnic, Silver had been extremely excited, thinking about all the possibilities, all the wonderful places where he could enjoy nature with you.

Now, he was walking beside you, delicately holding your hand while carrying the food basket and the blanket with his psychokinesis. Silver smiled a lot and walked confidently through the plain he had chosen. The field was vast, with a pleasant grove in the distance and a mountain nearby. The white hedgehog wanted an open and peaceful place like this—it was perfect for him.

"I think this spot is great for setting up the blanket, don’t you think?" He suddenly stopped, looking around, noticing that the area didn't have tall vegetation, had soft grass, and offered a good view of the surroundings.

"It looks good to me, let’s set everything up then." He let go of your hand, using his powers to place the blanket on the ground. You knelt down, carefully adjusting it, and then he placed the basket at the center of the blanket.

Finally, the two of you sat down side by side, and Silver reached for the basket, pulling things out. He began taking out his tupperware containers.

"I made those berry pancakes you like. I hope they’re still warm." He placed the container on the ground and opened it. The sweet and appetizing scent of pancakes filled your senses, making your mouth water.

"They smell amazing. I love the way you make them." Silver chuckled.

"I'm happy that you already like them before even tasting them. I also made this." He pulled out a small plate with some pastries.

"You made scones?! I’ve always wanted to try them!" Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the treat being placed on the blanket.

"Yeah, I know, that’s why I looked up a recipe online and made them. I heard you mention them that time." He reached out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You’re such a thoughtful boyfriend..." You leaned in slightly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, making him blush lightly.

"Anything for you, my love." He smiled softly, taking out the last item from the basket—a bottle of iced tea he had also prepared. "Well, what are you waiting for? Feel free to enjoy everything!"

Silver said excitedly, picking up one of the scones and bringing it to your mouth. You were surprised by the gesture but opened your mouth, letting him feed you.

"Hmm, this is really good. You have a special talent for making sweets, Silver." He scratched the back of his neck at your compliment.

"It's nothing much, I just put a lot of love into what I make." He took your hand in his, gently stroking it with his thumb.

"Well, let’s not waste these delicious treats, right?" You reached for another of the pastries.

--*--

After eating, the two of you were sitting side by side, enjoying the peach iced tea he had made. He took the last sip from his cup, then looked at you attentively, noticing you were sitting cross-legged.

"Hey, [Y/N], do you mind if I lay on your lap?" He looked at you hopefully.

"Of course, love, you don’t even have to ask." You adjusted your position, making space for him to lie down, supporting yourself with one hand on the ground.

Carefully, he rested his head on your lap, wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling against you. Instinctively, your hand began to trace his quills gently, feeling how soft they were at the moment.

"Your hand is so warm..." he murmured sleepily, his breathing becoming slower as he drifted off under your gentle touch.

Your boyfriend was adorable like this, lying on your lap, hugging you, unconsciously hiding his face against your stomach as he breathed peacefully. However, you couldn't resist teasing him a little.

Your finger traced soft circles on his forehead, then moved to stroke the fur on his muzzle. Leaning forward slightly, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, making him stir a little, though he kept his eyes closed. A small smirk formed on your lips.

"Silver... you’re drooling..." you whispered to him.

Immediately, as if he had been electrocuted, he sat up with wide eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"W-WHAT?! I wasn’t drooling! I—" He paused when he saw your teasing smile, raising an eyebrow.

"It was just a joke..." Laughing, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick kiss.

"You’re so mean, you know that...?" His expression softened, and a sly smile began to appear on his face.

He started to lean closer, his half-lidded eyes locked onto yours. His hands gently rested on your waist at first but soon became firmer. He playfully nibbled at your chin before trailing his lips up to meet yours, murmuring softly.

"I could make you apologize for scaring me right here..." His hands caressed your waist, one of them sliding to your back, pulling you closer to his smaller frame.

Nipping at your lower lip, he pulled away, his face now completely flushed beneath his fur. Clearing his throat, he said,

"I’m going back to napping... don’t scare me again..." He left the warning in the air before settling back onto your lap. His hand brushed against your thigh, feeling the softness of your skin against his fur.

Letting out a small sigh, he wrapped his arms around your waist once again, curling up on your lap and drifting off to sleep with his face buried in your stomach.

Scourge

When you told him to find a nice spot for a picnic, a wide smirk appeared on his face as he thought about the various places he could take you for a pleasant afternoon.

In truth, you were a little afraid of the location he might choose—who knows if it would be somewhere bizarre or outright forbidden, knowing Scourge’s personality.

However, to your surprise, your boyfriend picked a suitable and cozy spot for the picnic.

The green hedgehog stopped in front of a flowing river, looking around and analyzing the shade of the tree with a critical gaze to see if it was truly comfortable.

After huffing in satisfaction, he turned to you. "This spot’s perfect, babe. Let’s set up the picnic here."

He crouched down, grabbing the blanket and spreading it out in the tree’s cool shade before taking the basket and sitting at one corner of the white cloth. You followed suit, settling beside him.

Almost instinctively, his hand reached for your waist, pulling you closer to his smaller frame. Scourge lifted his sunglasses to look at you fully.

"You’re a princess every damn day, but today, ya look like a queen." He flashed a smirk, his eyes admiring you.

You chuckled.

“What are you hoping to gain from this?”

"A kiss?" He grinned, showing his sharp teeth.

“You could’ve just asked directly.”

Chuckling softly, you leaned to the side, pressing your lips against his, feeling the ticklish sensation of his muzzle’s fur against your skin. He tightened his grip on your waist slightly but quickly broke the kiss.

"Look what I brought for ya, babe." he said, reaching into the basket and pulling out some containers with the snacks he had prepared.

First, he pulled out two cans of energy drinks, setting one near you. Then, he took out a container with a few slices of pizza.

“Is this what’s left of last night’s pizza?” You raised an eyebrow.

"I call it makin' the most of every bite. I don’t wanna waste it. Besides, day-old pizza’s the best kinda pizza." He grinned, reaching for the last item.

Pulling out a large bag of nachos, he placed it beside him. Lastly, he grabbed a sealed container filled with dip.

"Babe, I was thinkin’ ‘bout what would be cool, an’ I found a guacamole recipe. I’m not big on this cookin’ stuff, but it didn’t take much effort. It'll go great with the nachos."

“Well, I’m glad you at least put in the effort, love.” You smiled at his subtle gesture of love.

"All for ya, babe."

He let go of your waist, opening the nacho bag and the guacamole container before dipping a chip into the sauce and taking a bite.

“So, do you like what you made?” You grabbed a nacho as well, dipping it into the guacamole.

"It actually tastes better than I expected." He chuckled, picking up his energy drink and opening it. "Hope ya like it, princess."

--*--

After finishing the nachos and guacamole, Scourge stretched his arms, letting out a yawn.

"Babe, I feel like takin' a nap."

He turned to you, lowering himself and resting his head against your crossed legs. He nuzzled his muzzle against your thigh, pressing a small kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. Then, he lay back, placing his arms behind his head, enjoying the serenity and the soothing sound of the river beside you.

"Ya love when I lay on your lap, don’tcha?" He teased with a smug expression.

“I don’t mind it at all.”

Your hand started tracing his quills, feeling each one under your fingers—surprisingly soft, probably because he was relaxed and with someone he trusted.

"If ya keep runnin' your fingers through my quills like that… I’m either gonna fall asleep…" He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower and husky. "Or do somethin’ crazy…" A wide grin spread across his face.

You just huffed playfully, letting him tease you all he wanted.

Then, a mischievous idea popped into your head. Innocently, you continued running your fingers through his quills, but one hand silently moved away, creeping toward his nose. Before he could notice, your fingers pinched his nostrils shut, cutting off his airflow.

Scourge’s eyes immediately snapped open, and he shot up, gasping for air. He turned to you, his expression first shocked before shifting into something more mischievous. He grabbed your wrist.

"Ya seriously got the guts to mess with me while I’m relaxed, babe?"

He leaned in dangerously close. You swallowed hard, anticipation building over his next move.

“W-wait—!”

You barely had time to finish your sentence before you felt your back hit the blanket, his weight pressing down against you.

"You’re such a naughty girl…"

He captured your lips once, then twice, his hands pressing against your ribs while his knees pinned you down, one on each side of your waist, preventing any chance of escape.

"Blockin’ my air like that…"

He kissed you again, then trailed open-mouthed kisses down your throat, purposely grazing his teeth against your sensitive skin, asserting dominance.

“Scourge…” You managed to whisper softly.

"Babe… Be careful with these lil’ provocations…" He chuckled, pulling away and grabbing your hands, helping you sit back up.

"Let’s enjoy the place for now…"

He kissed the back of your hand before once again lying back down on your lap, his quills brushing against your skin as he got comfortable.

"Don’t tease me again, or I swear I won’t hold back." He smirked before closing his eyes, drifting off to sleep again—leaving you completely flustered as you watched his relaxed features while he slept.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Little Ghost Holiday Drabble

Synopsis: Baking during the winters with your kids and husband during the holidays.

A/n: Hi, my lovelies! I know that I have a lot of works to catch up on, I'm a little behind on everything right now as school has taken a toll on me and so has writer's block. I'll try my best to post more consistently, I know most of you who followed me for the domestic content miss it so here is a little something for our favorite family.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle

"Momma, look!" You turned your head away from the preheating oven to look at your little sunshine, although she was struggling to mix the cookie batter, her laughter filled the room. Your baby boy coos in your arms as you lifted yourself up.

"Be careful, butterfly. The bowl's really heavy " You smiled at her, she nodded obediently, trying to sneak a taste. "Butterfly, that has raw eggs. How about the chocolate chips instead, hmm?"

Her grin widens, foot stomps like a clumsy, cheery dance on the wood floor as she ran to the pantry. Nothing makes you smile more than the pitter-patter of tiny feet, wherever you were, it was always accompanied by her sugar-laced pitchy voice calling out for you.

She came back a minute or two later, the bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips you specifically bought for her sweet tooth. You give her the child safe scissors, your little girl wanting to be more independent nowadays, something Simon was both proud of and heartbroken about.

Looking up at you with a look of asking permission so you nodded, she squealed before shoving her clean hand in the plastic bag to have a handful of the treat, stuffing her little mouth. "Alright, put the rest in and mix it well, butterfly." You told her as she picked up the wooden mixing spoon again, multitasking on her munchies.

Simon came out of your bedroom together after a steamy shower with the towel around his neck, he wrapped his arms around from behind you, his face buried on your neck which caused you giggle and squeal his name in a playful warning when he lightly nipped at a sensitive spot.

"All done, momma!" She said taking it into her own hands to roll the cookie dough and plop it down on the parchment lined baking tray, her blonde hair sticking out in messy little spikes from what used to be a teeny-tiny bun.

She dusted her dress and flower printed apron before you helped her out in placing the filled tray into the preheated oven. Simon, taking your baby boy off your arms and inviting Ghostie onto the playing mat with them.

You watched them, keeping an eye on the oven which made your whole house smell warm and cozy against the snow outside the windows.

With warm cookies and cold milk, you stare at your loves before you, Ghostie practically stuffing her chubby cheeks full of the baked sweet with one hand, light beige crumbs and the sticky chocolate on the same bouncing cheeks while her other hand was offering half a cookie to her dad's lips.

Reminding you of moments during breakfasts and mornings when it was syrup and whipped cream instead of the crumbs and chocolate, when her giggles and birds chirping filled the otherwise depressingly silent rooms. You aren't ready for her to grow up despite your husband being more open about it.

Your baby boy chewing on his blue rubber teething toy as you enjoyed the ambiance of your warm home. Enjoying and savoring every moment you had while your family is complete, while Simon was still home for this time of year..

Within the very home and family that you and your husband built, your heart as full as it could ever be <3

[fanged-fanfics]

Hi!!! May I pls request a platonic hurt/comfort fic of pure vanilla comforting quiet!reader who is sad/depressed? Like how a father would comfort his own child

I know for a FACT everyone needs a good cry in his arms… it would be so healing 😭😭😭

☆ To Soothe The Soul(jam) — Pure Vanilla & Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Platonic || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

You hadn't felt well enough to be around the Kingdom like you usually would. In fact, you hadn't felt well enough to see anyone at all. Not even the little hobbies you used to have as a pick-me-up could bring you the same joy they used to. On a particularly bad day, you took refuge at the foot of a large willow tree. It was quiet and away from the bustling activity of the streets, so you finally had some quiet. Unfortunately, you couldn't find peace in it like usual. Your mind felt stuffed full with a weight that hadn't left you in several days, and nothing you'd done so far had helped it. Everything felt too much, and you didn't know what to do...

"Ah, there you are" a gentle voice chimed through your thoughts. You quickly looked up, seeing the blue of Pure Vanilla Cookie's staff as the eye within peered down at you. "I'm sorry, do you want to sit? I can move if you need-" you began, attempting to stand. A hand pressed on your shoulder, guiding you back down as Pure Vanilla sat beside you. "Actually, you're just the Cookie I've been looking for" he said. "Me?" You repeated "Did I do something?". "Of course not, but I can sense you need the company" Pure Vanilla replied. He settled against the bark of the tree behind him "You seem restless. You can unburden your mind to me if you need, I won't tell a single Cookie"

You took a glance to him, meeting his gentle expression. His smile was kind, and you knew his words were genuine. Still, on instinct you replied, "I'm sure you're busy, I wouldn't want to distract you". "I always have time for you" Pure Vanilla reassured. With that, you took a deep breath, leaning back with him. After a moment of hesitation, you spoke. "It's... a lot. It almost feels like everything is the problem, but I know that doesn't make much sense. I just haven't been feeling well, and I can't tell what's really wrong with me. I haven't been feeling like myself... I'm sorry if I've been acting weird". "There's no need to be sorry" Pure Vanilla said, wrapping his arm around you "You're very strong for pushing through, dear one. Never feel ashamed for feeling how you do"

"I... I never thought of it that way... or that I was very strong" You responded softly. You then glanced over, seeing Pure Vanilla's other arm open in invitation. You nudged closer, leaning into his chest as his arms wrapped around you fully. His large loose sleeves encased you like a blanket, a comforting shield against the rest of the world. He smelled just like his name implied, a sweet yet light fragrance. "Remember, you're worth every stone in the sea and star in the skies" Pure Vanilla said softly "You're special, just as you are. And I'm right here for anything you need"

Before you could stop it, wetness was pricking at your eyes. You felt your breath catch, dissolving into tears against the healer's chest. He held you closer, gentle whispers leaving him as he patted your head, petting your back as well. "There, there. It will all be alright. I won't let you go, little one, you're safe here". It took several minutes before you could calm down, sniffling in his arms as he held your weight. "I-I'm sorry" you mumbled. "Shh, shh" Pure Vanilla whispered "Don't worry a bit, you're perfectly alright". Once you leaned back, the healer helped you wipe your eyes. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

"A little better, honestly" you admitted "Thank you". Pure Vanilla smiled a little wider "I'm so glad to hear that". He then stood, his robes flowing around him as he did so. He extended a hand to you after picking up his staff "I've made you a meal back in the castle, if you wish to join me?". You almost told him he didn't have to, but you decided against it. You hadn't felt this comforted since you were a little doughball, and you were admittedly pretty hungry... you accepted his hand with a nod, standing up beside him "I'd love to".

Pure Vanilla put a gentle hand on your back, guiding you towards the castle's direction. You felt... safe with him. He was a soothing presence amidst the pressure you'd been feeling, and finally getting out those tears felt like a very welcome reprieve. It was so easy to open up to him, his unyielding patience and helpful nature always managed to slip past your faulty smiles to see your feelings at your core. You leaned a little closer to him as you walked, his hand providing support as you two chatted all the way to the dining hall.

[elalfywhore]

sarah strong x domestic reader

•ahhh where to begin with you two!!!!

•you guys moved from north carolina to storrs together, meeting in elementary school but started dating your sophomore year.

•you had always been the more domestic, obedient type girlfriend but it only blossomed into the way it is now once you guys moved in together.

•sarah’s heart always flutters when she remembers all the times in high school you showed her support, pushing her to be the best athlete she could be. showing up to all her games no matter how far, her number painted on your cheek, baking her sweet treats, when she would be down from a bad game or day you’d be there to help cheer her up.

•once you guys moved into your first apartment together on campus it just intensified.

•her teammates always teasingly praising sarah for having such a wife of a girlfriend.

• “i’m gonna wife her up if you don’t.” azzi joked to sarah; moaning at the taste of the cookies you had baked earlier. paige, azzi, kk and ice had all decided to come over to your guys’ apartment after practice. you were in the shower when they arrived but they could smell the sweet aroma of cookies down the fall; coming inside to find the pretty hard shaped dish filled with cookies. “shut up.” sarah gave azzi a joking stank side eye; making the rest of the girls laugh.

•sarah’s love languages are gift giving and quality time for sure!!! you both share quality time but you also love acts of service!! doing her laundry, cooking dinner for her, helping her take out and re braid her hair, etc.

• “that was amazing, baby.” even though you’re in heels you have to tip toe to peck sarah’s lips. you sit down on the couch behind you and sarah gets down on her knees; taking your heels off. she smiles as you wiggle your now free’d toes; grabbing onto your foot to massage it a bit. “i’m glad you had fun, mi amor.” she smiles up at you; releasing your foot and reaching in her pocket. “i have one more surprise for you.” you gasp with a smile and sit up a bit as she pulls out a blue box reading Tiffany. she opens it, presenting you a beautiful diamond anklet. “baby, you didn’t have too.” you pout, so grateful for your girlfriend. “of course i did.” she smiles, wrapping the anklet around your ankle.

•she loves it when you come watch her play; always at every game, draped in her jersey with a long sleeve undershirt usually paired with leggings or jeans. she thinks it’s so adorable.

•you guys are total cuddle bugs!! you guys have spent many mornings rolling around the sheets, enjoying each others warm embrace.

•you guys don’t spoon that much but when you do sarah big spoons.

•you guys prefer to lay facing each other, limbs interlocking wherever they can. most of the time it’s skin to skin unless you guys are just trying to get a quick nap in.

•you hmp out a bit, sarah immediately noticing your discomfort. you guys were cuddled under the blanket; trying to hide from the cold connecticut winter. “want skin, baby?” sarah’s voice raspy and tired. “please.” you whine, sitting up. “c’mere baby.” sarah sits up as well, slipping off your hoodie and bra; you help her shimmy your pj shorts and panties off. you lay back, enjoying the cool feeling of the sheets and watch sarah pull off her clothes; still in the bed. “c’mon.” sarah sighs out contently, laying back and pulling you into her embrace. you almost moan at the feeling of your skin touching, burying your face in her neck.

•you’re her passenger princess, she even lets you be on aux.

•she takes you literally anywhere you wanna go, you don’t have a car in connecticut, she’ll even get upset if you uber somewhere; not trusting them with you.

•she’s not really into pda, preferring your guys’ physical affection stay with just you two. she will offer a peck every once in a while in public or use her hand on your lower back to help guide you through somewhere.

nsfw below !!!

•you’re both munches, like it’s insane.

•sarah lives for when you sit on her face, thighs on both sides of her head and pretty pussy in her face. taking long licks up your slit, her strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you in place.

• “fuck, just like that baby.” you whine out, who knows how long you two had been like this; you sitting on her face and reaching back to play with her clit. “you’re so good to me.” you praise your girlfriend who’s nodding her head up and down your pussy, tongue dragging all over your slit. your free hand reaches to play with your nipple, they’re so sensitive you can’t help but to moan out; letting out praises to sarah.

•sarah’s such a titty sucker. she loves it, it’s like her favorite hobby. there’s a lot of nights where you find yourself scrolling through tiktok together; sarah’s arms wrapped around you with your nipple in her mouth as you scroll. this usually doesn’t last too long before your soft moans get to sarah; she’ll always soon find her fingers in your panties, fingering your pussy.

•you guys don’t use strap very often, maybe once every week or two but when you guys do it’s so good.

• “fuuuuck.” you drag out, word vibrating with every fast thrust from sarah. she was currently killing your shit from the back. one second you were chopping up some veggies for dinner and the next thing you knew she had you bent over the counter top, big dick fucking you senseless. “like that, amor?” she groans, smacking your ass. “yes, baby, fuck me.” you sound like something from a porn, making sarah’s pussy drip. “c’mere.” you gasp out as she pulls the strap out, picking your body off the counter by your hair and turning you to face her. she quickly lifts your shirt up just enough to take your tits out before picking you up like you weigh nothing. you moan at her strength as she positions you and you reach down under you, helping guide the strap inside. you caress her face as she bites her lip, sweat beads forming on her forehead and she begins to bounce you on her dick; showing off her pure strength.

•sarah loves to be eaten out, she loves it sloppy and wet; your saliva and her juices all over your face as she fucks it.

•sarah just needed a quick nut, she had to be at practice in 20 minutes but she needed it out of her system. so, she found you on the couch watching tv and pulled down her pants in front of you. you almost moaned at the sight of her, pussy on display, thick thighs just calling to you. it didn’t even take a word exchange for you to quickly tie back your hair and sit up, tilting your head up a bit to get the perfect angle. “fuck.” sarah moans out, grabbing your hair from the root, thrusting onto your tongue as you use it to rub her clit. your arms reach behind her; grabbing onto her ass to pull her closer. you slap her ass and squeeze it a bit, enjoying the taste of her pussy. “i’m gonna cum.” sarah warns, groaning out. her thrusts become sloppy as her cum drips down onto your face. you can only clean her up a little bit before she pulls away, “shit baby, i gotta go. i’ll get you when i get back i promise.” and with that she pulls her basketball shorts up, giving you a quick kiss and quickly heads to the door with a “i love you.” being shouted before the door closes.

[pumkinzee]

Could you write smth similar to your husband!jason HCs but with percy please? i love all that you've written!

PAPER RINGS ˏˏ HUSBAND!PERCY JACKSON

pairing: Percy Jackson x gn!reader

⌑ - English isn't my first language so I'm using a translator and my basic knowledge of the language!

𝐑equest 𝐨pens! + 𝐫ules!

If Jason planned for months what the proposal would be like, he is the complete opposite. He always knew that he wanted to marry you, he knew that you were the one, the one who would raise his children, the one who he would wake up in bed with every day, he already knew that he would spend the rest of his days with you, he just didn't know how to handle the idea of ​​marriage. Too nervous? Yes, but mostly hesitant, he spoke a lot with his mother about how to take it and how to analyze when the right time would be. It took him longer than necessary not because of the decision, but because learn to organize. 

When you told him yes, he had a fit of nervous laughter, you thought it had all been a joke and you almost got angry with him until you saw how he started to cry from emotion. Yes, it was a complete disaster. 

Small and special wedding, his friends, his mother, Paul and Estelle, what we would all think. Beach wedding? Try to get the idea out of my head. Honeymoon to Montauk, you guys couldn't afford anything too expensive, it was a special place for him and he got to make it special for you too, it was the perfect place. 

You move in together a little while after the wedding, a comfortable and bright flat with a sea view, always lit up, sand on the floor and the smell of blue food, if that makes any sense. The move is quicker than you thought because of how used he is to moving, schools, houses, cities, everything Sally did for him unconsciously developed in him a great speed when it comes to moving.

As boyfriends he was already cuddly, as a husband? You're lost, wait till you spend the first week with a clingy, complaining husband, the kind that clings to your foot and you end up dragging him while you walk because he won't even let you go to the bathroom.

He is afraid of losing his ring, he wears it whenever he leaves the house, even when they go to the corner just to buy bread, he is very proud of his marriage. He tells his life to people who mention his ring just because they thought it was pretty, they learned to stop asking stupid things to stupid strangers.

He's not allowed to touch the kitchen, even if it's with all his heart and Sally taught him how to cook, I don't think he has any talent for cooking, I feel like he forgets he has things in the oven, he doesn't know how to turn on the stove, he cuts his fingers. You better cook or you'll have the kitchen as a decoration, sometimes you just ask Sally for help.

Sally? Oh, she LOVES you. You become another of his children, spoiled and pampered who will always have a plate of blue cookies on the table, she talks to you for hours about so many different things that you never get bored.

With Paul it's much the same, a good cup of tea and you'll be comfortable talking with your father-in-law about adult life and life in general.

They love you, you are never bored and you are always invited to spend the holidays with them, there comes a point where they ask about you so much that Percy wonders if they ever hesitated to adopt you before the wedding.

Estelle adores you, she loves it when Percy brings you with him because she can run to you so you can hug her and carry her into the air. You spoil her a lot secretly from Sally, she is your little accomplice to play pranks on Percy.

Percy develops a baby fever that lasts...oh, how it lasts.

nswf cut!

Once you were lying on your bed, happy to be alive since demigods live less than average, and the next you have Percy between your legs. He doesn't say much, at first you think he just wants cuddles and is being whimsical, but you quickly realize he has something else on his mind.

Dealing with horny Percy is...wow. Dealing with him on your honeymoon was just the beginning, he's quick and possessive, but not toxic possessiveness, he owns you because he wants you to be there for him and him alone, it hurts his heart when you're not with him. He is healthily obsessed with you.

Kisses on the neck drive him crazy, he is not a very vocal person, but be prepared to have to shut him up, you will never see him making as much noise as now again

He loves being on top of you, reading your features, how you roll your eyes, how you shyly moan his name. He gives you kisses all over your face when you take him because he knows which is big

He has a very big ego, sorry, this man is obsessed with the way you squeeze him or squirm because of him

Sex in public? Yeah, well, no. Places where no one is there but someone could walk in, he knows what he's doing.

nsfw cut!

He’s a dad son

Yes, we would all want to see him with a daughter, he would treat her like a princess and spoil her a lot (Estelle would be jealous) but I feel that with a son he could be the boy he never could; He would scream, he would laugh, he would run around the house, they would watch movies until late, he would take him to the movies, they would play soccer together, he would take him to the beach, he would be the boy Gabe never let him be.

He is not overprotective, but that does not mean he is irresponsible, he knows that, if his son has his powers, he would know how to defend himself perfectly, he would train him but in his own way, being the son of the most powerful demigod will not make him weak, and Percy knows that.

If your son gets suspended or something, Percy will defend him the way Sally defended him.

Blue food everywhere.

You come home from work and the first thing you see is Percy asleep in the living room with your son asleep on your chest, the television is on and there are cookie crumbs on the floor.

©pumkinzee

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

honey, are you comin’?

previous part: sweet talkin’ | from the hive: session 1

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

summary: in which benny finds honey again. this time near a honeycomb, hopin’ for a taste on the road ;) (p.s.: if you were wonderin’, yes — the title of this was so inspired by måneskin)

warnings: not much of anything besides some minor talks of cruelty towards children, peeps being judgmental as hell, & smoking. they’re subtly flirting here basically. it’s cute! that’s really it. x

author’s note: oh my goodness! you have no idea how STUNNED i’ve been by all the love miss.honey!benny have been getting so far. fully was not expecting this. deadass wrote sweet talkin’ for fun. no thoughts, head empty type beat. just wanted to thank you honeys so so much. i can’t thank ya enough i fear! i literally still can’t wrap my head around this, but i love you all sm & can’t wait to share more with you! 🍯���🫶

word count: 2.7k

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Another unbearable wave of heat managed to remain the very next day. Your students squirming against their metal chairs, antsy as ever for a reprieve. And so were you too. Thankfully, it just so happened to be your turn as fellow recess monitor with one or your fellow co-workers, Miss. Margie. Marge just so happened to be a newly breaded fresh faced teacher just like yourself. You enjoyed her company, more so than the older teachers who were rather cruel to the students. Especially when they did something wrong. Marge wasn’t cruel so to speak but she was a tough cookie, putting her foot down when needed. You two as a duo were rather perfect for the school grounds. You as the comfort go to when a knee was scraped, and Marge as the tough love go to when a particular student needed a stern talking to.

You worked well together, and it showed. Your relief was rather prominent when you stepped out the back door near the playground. An immediate swarm of giggles and chatter from small voices buzzed about, and you couldn’t help but smile as you adjusted your eyes to the sun, protected under your heart shaped sunnies. It didn’t take you long to find Marge who was already planted near the monkey bars with her arms crossed over her chest like a drill sergeant. Considering her father’s status as a war vet, by no means was it shocking to you or anyone else for that matter to see her in such a state.

“Hi Margie,” you greeted her once materialized next to her. “How’s it goin’?”

Margie's clear concentration dropped at the sound of your voice. “Oh no wonder,” she commented without looking at you. Her brows shot up in genuine intrigue.

Your honey coated lips parted in confusion instantly. “Huh?”

“Your three o’clock, Hun.” Margie tilted her head to the right subtly, directing you to her line of sight. A sight that made your heart curl into itself in a warm beat. Right behind those chain-linked fences that kept the kids contained was Uncle Benny. Yet, today his status as Uncle appeared to be rather amiss. Instead of Johnny’s car flanked near the curb, he was leaning against a neat Harley Davidson. The same one you saw him on that mornin’. You figured he was dropping off the girls or somethin’, but your curiosity got the better of you when you saw Mrs. Davis with them instead.

Now in the no parking zone, he stood out like the sorrest of thumbs. Practically a puzzle piece thrown into the wrong box. With no thoughts behind those pretty blue eyes of his besides you.

“That biker of yours stood up like a torpedo as soon as you walked out,” your co-worker added.

You took a moment to adjust your glasses, moving them to the tip of your nose to get a better look. Sure as shit, you weren’t having a heat stroke. It was really him. He was still here. Had he been out here since the mornin’ or left to come back? And if he was here for you like Margie said — why? You were certain he wasn’t much of a fan of you the day prior.

“He’s — He’s not my biker,” you mangled out, words twisting off your tongue as butterflies danced around your tummy.

Margie snorted. “I hate to break it to you, Hun. Lookin’ like he is now.” She paused a moment, shifting her footing as she spotted a youngin’ running roughly across the pavement, almost banging into another student. “Hey — watch where you’re goin’. Don’t push it Mikey!” She reprimanded before fixing herself upright and asking you, “What was all that about yesterday anyways?”

“What y’mean?” You questioned, not quite sure what she was going on about.

“You know — lettin’ the Davis girls go with ‘em. Caused a bit of an upheaval with the parents apparently. Heard all about it in the break room this mornin’. Doesn’t sound like Principal Rubs is real happy about it either.”

Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing. What business did the parents have putting their two cents in about somebody else’s family members? As for Principal Rubin, well, she was Principal Rubin after all. There wasn’t much to it there. The damn woman was a stickler with the sprinklers yesterday after all. Never a ball of fun as far as you were concerned.

“Why wouldn't I?” You challenged, becoming rather defensive.

“The guy pulled up like a maniac all greasy and shit. Almost gave everyone a heart attack,” Margie reasoned, her features churning in disgust.

You knew if he was some clean cut military guy in full uniform, she wouldn’t have made a comment at all, which kind-of pissed you off. Sure his clothes were lookin’ as if they hadn’t seen a washing machine in a cycle of days, but hey — what did that have to do with character? There were plenty of people who gave this outward canvas of perfectionism, far off from who they truly were deep down inside. You knew that, and you saw it every single day within the cruel clusters of your modern society. You saw it in the faces of your Ma and Pa when you didn’t fit the supposed mold they were trying to conform you to.

“So? He’s their Uncle, Marge,” you countered, defenses climbing high. “Did you ever think that maybe the man was runnin’ late? Worryin’ about the girls. That’s why he was speedin’.”

Margie sighed. “Not with that Vandals shit on his vest, but whatever you wanna believe, Hun.”

It went quiet between you two then. A clear indication that this conversation wasn’t gonna get the two of you anywhere.

“I should go talk to him,” you announced, snapping the awkward silence in half. There was no denying that you were now suddenly eager to find out what all this was about.

“Yuh should. If you don’t I will, and I doubt that will end well,” she joked, her eyes sparkling in amusement. Oh and she was right about that. Knowing Margie, you knew the idea of her approaching Benny would formulate a recipe for disaster.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the mental image of such a scene. But also — you were utterly glad for this newfound banter popped open from a bottle of tension. “Alright Colonel, I’ll be back,” you quipped, before heading across the playground.

You could feel his eyes burning across your form on your journey to the edge of the property, your tummy flipping again in a bit of nerves and excitement. A part of you felt somewhat disappointed when you found yourself coming to a halt — stuck behind the monstrous fence that separated you from him, while another was glad for some security. You weren’t quite sure what his motive was, but knew it couldn’t be anything bad. He was just sitting here, smoking and minding his own business. Well — minding you.

“The girls don’t get out of school for another few hours, y’know,” you said matter-of-factly, eyeing him through the grates of the fence that reminded you far too much of a honeycomb.

He didn’t say much of anything, just raised a brow as you as he took one last drag of his cigarette. You watched as he put it out against the pavement, amongst a garden of other buds with his boot. Your suspicions were coming into fusion then, the realization that he’d been planted here for as long as your delusions imagined.

What could he possibly want from an innocent elementary school teacher like you?

He reached for that packet of Marlboros in his vest pocket all over again, clearly on a chain smoking spree. “Y’want?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. Those lean fingers of his calloused to the bone holding out a fresh cigarette in your direction. A cigarette that he’d been saving for you just in case.

You looked around for a moment, not quite sure what to do. The coast seemed to be clear though. Margie looked busy with some of the kids. Had a cluster of ‘em around her with her finger wagging about in every which direction. With her eyes no longer trained on Benny and you, and your form more than halfway across the school yard, you figured it wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you were having a day and could really use a cigarette. “Sure.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Benny re-adjusted his stance, shoulders straight as he sauntered the sidewalk to meet you against the fence. His rough knuckles brushed across your polished ballet slipper fingers as he passed you the cigarette though the honeycomb, a sweetness shooting up your arm in an instance. You left it sticking out for a moment so he could light it up for you, and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your face. The casual interaction felt rather intimate in the moment, and you were more than happy when you got to take a step back on your first drag.

“Thanks,” you voiced your appreciation as he popped a fresh cig against his lips, now lighting up his own. You couldn’t help but notice that he had a sweet little freckle etched into his bottom lip. No wonder he had beautiful lips, you thought.

Surely, they’d be sweet to the kiss.

Jutting your hip out, you tapped your foot against the dry grass in impatience. “You stalkin’ me or somethin’?” You ripped off the bandage then, getting right into the real stuff. It was too hot out to sugarcoat anything any longer. Plus, the more you stood here the more Marg would get curious, and you’d be caught slacking on the job.

His lip curled up to the side naturally, just like it had yesterday when you introduced yourself to him. “Ain’t a stalker,” he confirmed, re-pocketing his lighter.

You found his candid response refreshing’. Naturally a honey rumblin’ laugh tumbled out of you “Good to ‘ear. My co-worker y’see ‘round over there?” Flicking the residue on the end of your cigarette out of the way, you pointed at her simultaneously. “She thinks ya are. Doesn’t appreciate the loitering.”

He shook his head then, long pretty eyelashes fanning his lower lids as he puckered his lips against the cig. His eyes squinted across the campus for only a second until his gaze landed right back on you. You in another denim overall number with a whole new canvas of embroidered fun. This time, knowing that you were gonna be out in the yard come afternoon, you opted on a classic jean overall. There was always the possibility of having to kneel on the grassy ground or near the sand pit, having to scoop up a youngin’ that refused to leave the playground. You learned your lesson rather quickly within your first few months of teaching. Tripping over yourself in such a situation left a tear in your favorite skirt. A skirt you still frowned about every time you found a certain piece in your closet that would make the perfect pair.

Funnily enough, if Benny knew of such a thing he would’ve made sure the same exact piece of clothing was at your doorstep and back in your closet before the thought crossed your sweet little mind.

But you didn’t know that. Not yet, that is.

And Benny — well Benny wasn’t payin’ as much attention as he would’ve liked to what you were sayin’, and he wasn’t quite interested in Margie anyways. His interests lied with you, and in his defense, the sight of you in your heart shaped sunnies wasn't helping the cause one bit. It was hard to take you seriously when you looked that stinkin’ cute. Made him wanna put you in his jacket pocket for safe keeping. And hell was he itching to just drive his bike right through the fuckin’ fence to break the barrier between you two. He was still beatin’ himself up for not taking your hand when you offered it to him yesterday. Hence why he was here, stakin’ you out. Hoping to fix his mistake.

Because the last thing he ever wanted to do was fuck this up with you.

Instead of enertainin’ your comment or makin’ a move to leave upon your far from subtle hints, far from linear to your own wishes, he changed the topic completely. “What time y’get outta ‘ere?”

You took a long drag of your cigarette, to calm your anxieties. The smoke circled ‘round your face for a moment before it traveled across the fence, reachin’ for Benny. Ironically, it was as if the smoke mirrored your desires of clinging onto the man in front of you. “‘round the same time as the girls, a little after,” you replied, curiosity adding, “what’s it to ya?”

“Wanna go for a ride?” He inquired casually. As if he was just stoppin’ by and hadn’t been sitting here for a good three quarters of the school day waitin’ for you.

The simple question spilling from those pretty lips of his made you melt in an instant. If it wasn’t for the obvious heat as a buffer to such a state, your mind would’ve found him as the culprit. “Where?”

“‘round.” He shrugged, not offering much of a plan. His casual demeanor remained concrete to his form.

An innocent smirk stretched across your face, blooming the apples of your cheeks and creasing the plane of your forehead. Now you were the one to flex amusement against a cylinder wedged between honey glossed lips. Now Benny was the one to be somewhat grateful for the honeycomb — if you will. Cause if the fence wasn’t there, he knew he wouldn’t be able to contain himself. He’d have your honey gloss all over his lips, tasting your sweetness without a second thought. Without caring about Margie or the students on the playground. Without caring about anyone really, but you.

Always you.

Perhaps anyone else would be rather suspicious of a plan with really no plan at all. Sure Margie would need a bulleted itinerary on fresh stationary, color coated and attached to a clipboard respectfully. But you — no, you appreciated his carefree mentality. It was peaceful in comparison to the stressing atmosphere that surround you on a daily basis, dotting on the kiddos in your classes, worryin’ constantly about ‘em.

Two could play this game, you thought.

Just at the end of your cigarette, your pretty fingers reached between a ring in the honeycomb, motioning it back to him. “Would ya put this out f’me?” You asked sweetly, mascara coated lashes batting about behind those obvious heart eyes of yours. “Don’t want the kids to find it in the grass.”

“Mhm,” Benny hummed, finding your concern for this children too fuckin’ cute. How could he ever say no to a sweet thang like you? He just couldn’t.

Your fingers grazed his as he took it from you, a touch that you found yourself thanking your faith for allowing you to bask in again.

This time he not only put out his cigarette, but yours too in the garden of buds that would blossom into a metaphor. A metaphor that had you joining his crew. Becoming a part of the club, joining his family, and fulfilling your wifely duties of planting a seed or two more along the way. Growin’ Benny some baby honeys of your very own.

Your lack of a reply to his offer didn’t sway him by any means, only fueled his fire tenfold. Turning on his heel then, you couldn’t help but frown, thinkin’ your hesitance turned him impatient and over the prospect completely. Especially when you watched him mount his bike and rev the engine, ready to ride away without another word. But Benny — no he still had somethin’ to say, and he was gonna say it alright. “I’ll see ya out front after school, Honey.” He decided, “I’ll be waitin’.”

The sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue — as smooth as honey sliding down your throat in a soothing tea — was all you needed to make your decision.

With your fun little backpack — straps resting against your shoulders — absolutely decked out in pins and keychains alike, you’d spot him at dismissal, and he’d be waitin’. Waitin’ for you to come. Wonderin’ if you were comin’.

Askin’ himself ‘Honey, are you comin’?’

Of course you would. You always would with Benny, no matter what.

And when you mounted his bike, your body molding into his like you were made for him, and your hands wrapping around his waist, Benny’s mistake proved to be no more. Suddenly, everything felt right in the world.

Right because you were one step closer to being his honey.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

hi-ya, i hope you enjoyed part 2! there’s so much more to come. expect a from the hive 🎙️🐝 installment real soon :)

also to note, my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

da bee hive 🐝

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[osachiyo]

my sunshine ・ gojo satoru ─── f!reader . daddy gojo (literally) approx 0.6k ᘎᘏ cw none !

everyone knew satoru had the biggest sweet tooth, and apparently his daughter took after him in that aspect.

"wan' that, daddy!" the cute 3 year old girl pouted, peering up at her father from below, stubby little finger pointing at the cookie-jar oh so neatly placed on top of the counter.

"you want the cookies, princess?" satoru asked, making her nod with a small 'mhm!' so damn cutely that almost made him fold. almost.

"but, buuut mommy said no cookies 'till dinner, remember?" satoru pouted, kneeling to be at the same height as his tiny girl, who only slouched her shoulders in disappointment− before looking up at the snow haired man again− shoving her hand into his face with only her pointer finger up, "jus' one, I pwooomise!"

he only chuckled in response, large hand reaching to ruffle her fluffy hair− which was parted into two cute pigtails, various clips and bows decorating it. "alright, fine. juuuuust one, okay sweet girl?" his voice was anything but strict− plump lips curled into the biggest grin. she only beamed up at him, giggling and squealing as he hoists her up and sits her on top of the marble counter, her legs swinging back and forth in sheer excitement.

satoru reached for the jar, carefully opening the lid before taking out two cookies; one of his precious sweet tooth of a daughter, and one for himself. he handed one of them to her, before making a 'zip' motion on his lips− indicating for her to keep quiet about this. she gladly took the cookie with her grabby little hands rosey lips parting to let out a little 'thwank you!' before nodding, agreeing to keep this a secret between her and daddy.

" 's so yummy, daddy!" she squealed, letting out the cutest fucking giggle known to mankind− in his words. he grinned, taking a moment to truly admire her− admire the sweet little bundle of joy that you, his woman, the love of his life had gifted him and he couldn't thank you enough.

he watched as his sweet girl happily munched on the sweet treat, her chubby little cheeks now stuffed with the chocolate chip cookie. god, he'd give her the goddamn world. he smiled softly to himself before taking a bite of his cookie, eyes sparkling at the taste. "you're right, baby. it's very yummy," he said with a mouthful of cookie, glancing at her with this cerulean blues, "mommy's the best baker out there, eh?" she nodded in agreement, before also speaking with a mouthful of cookie, "uh-huh! she's also the best mommy everrrrrrr! but she'd be better if she let me eat more cookies, y'know?"

satoru cackled at that− she really did take after him.

bonus :

"I'm home!" you yelled out softly, taking your shoes off and neatly placing them to the shoe-rack. you walked over to the kitchen in order to put the groceries in their designated spot when you noticed the cookie-jar.... missing.

you sighed, placing the groceries down on the counter before looking for your precious daughter and husband− and the missing cookie jar. and you found the both of them right as you walked into the spacious living-room, a children's playing on the tv, your eyes softening at the sight of gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer to exist, with his baby girl in his arms, snuggled up so comfortably into his chest as the fuzzy blanket covering them slowly started to slide off.

a smile tugged at your lips, walking over to them when something hit your foot− looking down, you saw the completely empty cookie jar laying on the floor, abandoned after they were done devouring each and every one of the cookies, most likely. you rolled your eyes with a huffed out laugh, walking closer to them before noticing the small cookie crumbs on their adorable faces. you shook your head with a defeated smile, like father like daughter, huh?

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

[eclipixels]

Mine

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: You finally meet Kaiser for the first time and, as expected, your boyfriend hated every second of it

A/N: pt.1, pt.2

[1,884 words]

      Isagi paced back and forth in his room, his frustration loud. The creak of the floorboards echoed his every step as he muttered under his breath, his hands running through his disheveled dark blue hair. Blue Lock had granted him a rare weekend break after the intense commencement of the Neo Egoist League, yet his mind was far from restful.

      "Winning against him isn't enough," Isagi finally blurted out, his voice a mixture of anger and resolve. "I want him dead."

      You sat cross-legged on his bed, your laptop perched on your knees. Finals had consumed your attention, leaving you out of the loop regarding Isagi's latest adversary and this whole new Blue Lock show. The way your boyfriend described this "Kaiser" guy was enough to make you believe the man might actually be the devil.

      "Baby, don’t you think that’s a little too far?" you asked cautiously, hoping to diffuse the intensity.

      "Not as far as how deep I’m gonna shove my foot down his throat after I score the winning goal," he continued, looking like a mad man. Oh boy.

      You winced, unsure of how to respond. "Oh, um, that’s not…"

      "Honestly," Isagi interrupted, his voice rising, "he should go kill himself. Right, baby? Say yes. Yes. Agree with me, please." He turned to you with an almost desperate look in his eyes.

      "I don’t know—" you began, only to be cut off again.

      "God, I hope lightning strikes him down. That gay ass fucking fa—"

      "Woah! Let’s calm down there, babe," you interjected, alarmed. You raised your hands in a placating gesture, fearing where his words might lead. "Don’t say that."

      "You don’t understand, love," he said through clenched teeth, his fists balling at his sides. The raw emotion in his voice was both startling and heartbreaking. Who the fuck was this guy that had your boyfriend losing his god damn mind?

      “C’mere” You gestured towards yourself, setting your laptop down beside you. He pouted before collapsing onto you, snuggling his face into your body.

      You exhaled softly, trying to steady the conversation. "I may not, but you need to be the bigger person here. Don’t let it get to you, okay?"

      Isagi let out a frustrated huff, his shoulders sagging slightly as some of the tension left his body. "Hmpf, he just gets me so mad," he admitted, his voice quieter but still charged with frustration.

      "I know, my love. I know," you said softly, your tone soothing.

      He looked up at you then, his dark eyes softening, filled with an almost childlike vulnerability. "You love me?"

      You smiled, your heart melting at the sudden shift in his demeanor. "Of course, Ichi!"

      "You’d do anything for me?" he asked, tilting his head with a sly smile that hinted at mischief. Oh god.

      "Depends…" you replied warily, sensing a trap.

      "Fun date idea! I kill him and you help me hide the body," he quipped, his tone still tinged with residual frustration.

      "Yoichi!" you exclaimed, incredulous.

      "What? Praying on his downfall isn't enough, I need to participate in it."

      You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. "Oh my god."

      –

      You had decided to visit Blue Lock the following Monday, armed with a basket full of homemade cookies. Ever since that chaotic day during Blue Lock’s early days when you barged in unannounced, demanding to see Yoichi, you'd somehow managed to win over nearly everyone. It was surprising how quickly you'd become a familiar and welcome presence in such an intense environment. Even Ego, who rarely exhibited anything resembling warmth, seemed to tolerate you.

      “Oh, L/N. Nice to see you,” Ego grumbled, his eyes momentarily flickering from the numerous screens in front of him.

      “Nice to see you too! Here.” You handed him a cookie with a small smile.

      For a second, Ego simply stared at the offering, as if it were some foreign object. Then, with a curt nod, he accepted it. His usual gruff demeanor faltered ever so slightly, and you could’ve sworn his eyes lit up briefly. But that was most likely because it was the first time he'd eaten something other than cup noodles in weeks.

      Anri was next. “Oh, thank you, Y/N!” she said warmly, clearly delighted by the gesture.

      You made your way through the facility, handing out cookies to the players. A wave of gratitude followed you wherever you went. Even Rin came back for seconds.

      You were a little nervous to meet Europe's top five but by the end of it, you were cracking jokes with Chris Prince and even had Noel Noa, the Noel Noa, compliment your baking. It was like a dream.

      “Thank you so much, Y/N-chan! These are amazing!” Bachira grinned as he took a generous bite.

      “You got more?” Igarashi asked eagerly, his eyes wide with anticipation. After weeks of natto and pickled raddish, his taste buds were still in recovery so this was a rare and luxurious treat for him.

      You chuckled. “Don’t worry, I baked plenty. I know how much you guys eat.”

      However, your mind was elsewhere. You scanned the pitch for your boyfriend, but he was nowhere to be found. Just as you resolved to go look for him, you accidentally bumped into someone—a very tall someone.

      The strong scent of Dior Sauvage immediately assaulted your senses, making you wince slightly.

      “Oh, hello there.” The man’s voice was smooth and.. German?

      “Ah, sorry about that,” you replied in the same language, catching him off guard.

      “You speak German?” he asked, a brow raised in curiosity.

      “Just a little,” you admitted.

      “It’s good,” he remarked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

      “Thanks. I, uh, had a phase when I was obsessed with a German boy band at twelve, so I learned some German back then.” You chuckled, feeling a bit self-conscious about the admission.

      The man chuckled too, clearly amused. “Interesting.”

      Isagi emerged from the locker room, his eyes immediately landing on the group of players happily munching on your cookies. He smiled to himself, realizing you were nearby. However, his smile vanished when Nagi casually nudged him and pointed toward the field.

      There you were, chatting it up with none other than Michael fucking Kaiser.

      What the actual fuck?

      Isagi’s jaw clenched as he watched Kaiser lean in slightly, his body language oozing confidence and flirtation. Why was that bastard so close to you?

      “You’re interesting,” Kaiser murmured, stepping just a bit closer to you.

      You blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Uh… thanks? Want a cookie? I made enough for everyone.”

      “Maybe,” Kaiser said with a smirk. “But I didn’t catch your name.”

      “Oh, it’s Y/n.”

      “Michael.”

      Your eyes widened slightly. “M-Michael? Michael Kaiser?”

      “Ah, so you’ve heard of me.” He grinned, his hand reaching up to gently tilt your chin upward. “Good things, I hope.”

      Before you could step back, a firm hand grabbed your arm and pulled you away.

      “Actually, all bad things, you fucking asshole. Get away from my girlfriend,” Isagi growled, positioning himself protectively in front of you.

      Kaiser’s smirk widened as he processed Isagi’s words. His gaze shifted between you and Isagi, a glint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. It was clear he was already scheming. How had Isagi managed to bag a bad bitch like you? And more importantly, how could he use you as a pawn in this game of destroying Isagi’s ego?

      Isagi, however, was no fool. He could see the gears turning in Kaiser’s head and immediately shot him a look that screamed, ‘don’t you fucking dare even think about it.’

      Kaiser’s grin remained, but he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Yoichi. I was just being friendly.”

      “Yeah? Well, don’t,” Isagi snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She doesn’t need you as a friend.”

      “Yikes, Liebling. Is he usually this controlling?” He turned to look at you.

      “Oh shut it, Kaiser,” Isagi snapped.

      “I think the pretty girl here can speak for herself. If she doesn’t want me talking to her, she can say that.”

      “Let’s just walk away, Ichi.” You tugged on your boyfriend’s jersey trying to pull him away from the situation. Isagi stared hard at Kaiser, secretly hoping that his look was enough to burn a hole through the European man and kill him.

      Your words from earlier echoed in his mind. Be the better person. With a deep breath, he listened to your advice, turning on his heel to walk away. But then Kaiser’s taunting voice cut through the tension like a blade.

      “She’s way too good for someone like you. Let me know when she’s done with you so I can take my turn.”

      That was all it took. Your boyfriend froze, his jaw tightening, his fists clenching at his sides. The restraint he’d managed only seconds before dissolved, and in an instant, he spun around and stormed back. Grabbing Kaiser by the collar, he yanked him close, his voice low and venomous.

      “Listen here, you shitty clown. Keep her name out of your mouth. You can talk shit about me all you want, but she’s off-limits. Say one more thing about her, and I’ll make damn sure you’ll never set foot on a soccer field again. Got it?”

      Kaiser didn’t flinch. Instead, he grinned. A sly, infuriating smirk that made it impossible to tell if he was taking Isagi’s words seriously or mocking him. You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as the scene unfolded, the attention of the entire field now drawn to the confrontation. Where was Ego? Normally, he’d step in by now on that damn screen.

      “You’re insane,” Kaiser finally said, his laughter ringing out as he grabbed Isagi’s wrists and shoved him away. He dusted off his jersey and added smugly, “But out of respect for the girl, I’ll back off. Not because of you.”

      Isagi’s shoulders were tense, his fists still clenched at his sides just itching to wipe that arrogant look off Kaiser’s face. But he noticed how uncomfortable you looked, and his own anger began to subside. Kaiser wasn’t worth it, not if it meant upsetting you.

      Kaiser walked away scoffing. But Isagi was still super tense.

      “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice cautious but warm as you stepped closer.

      “Fine,” he muttered, though his tone was gruff.

      Then his eyes met yours, and the storm within him seemed to calm. His muscles relaxed, and while he didn’t smile, his expression shifted, relief washing over his features.

      “Cookie?” Your innocent question caught him off guard. He chuckled, the sound light and genuine, before taking your hand in his and leading you back to where his friends were gathered. They were already devouring the baked goods you’d brought, and you doubted there would be anything left for him.

      But you knew this wasn’t over. You could already tell Kaiser would be a thorn in your boyfriend’s soccer career for a little while. You just hoped it wouldn’t take too heavy a toll.

      When no one was looking, Isagi stole a quick kiss, catching you by surprise. His lips tasted of the cookie he’d just eaten, sweet and warm.

      “Mine,” he whispered, his voice firm but filled with affection as he grabbed your waist.

      “Yours,” you replied softly, your heart fluttering.

[starlight727]

A little gift (part 3, the final part, I promise lol)

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Author's note: Had planned to leave this part for part 2, but decided to make a separate part for it, so here we go, final act, let's do this!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (you are here)

"As saddening as it can be, we've reached the last round! And since it's the last question, you get twice the amount of points!" announced Shadow Milk with a sad tone in his voice, but at the same time he sounded excited for what was coming next. He pointed out this last question was for White Lily, you looked over your shoulder to see her pale face and eyes widened, she tried to steel herself, but what came next shocked her to her core.

"You sure seem proud of your new title of 'the Guardian of the Seal...' ...let's see how great you really are...!" and with that, Shadow Milk summoned lots of strings that held you and your friends up in the hair by the wrists and ankles, it scared you all, it was a painful feeling how tight the strings were.

But suddenly, you felt the strings let go of your limbs and you fell on a solid platform, it was a cardboard star! You were then carefully taken to the one place you never expected to be: Shadow Milk's hand. You were frozen in fear, trying your best to hide your trembling self. Your eyes were wide open, taking in every single detail in the giant entertainer's form, his attire, his strange hair (or hat, what even was all of that??), his face... his wonderful face and its... majestic features... oh my Witches, you were falling in love with him HARD, like a shooting star crashing on Earthbread (that doesn't make sense but you get the idea). You got up on your feet, but your shaking knees were not helping you keep your balance. You tried walking up to him, but you tripped over your own foot (like a clumsy main character, you hated it), but to your surprise, he caught you just in time! Your gaze softened at the surprisingly generous act, you were staring at him, at his gorgeous sky blue eyes, for so long, you got lost in them, you didn't notice you were so deep in there until Shadow Milk started talking to you with a voice so soft it could be softer than silk.

"Hello there, Y/N Cookie!" he began with a light chuckle, something that snapped you out of your trance and made you blush like mad.

"Hehe, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, my little star. You'll stay right here, close to me, so I can keep my eyes on you~." he said as he moved you to the top of the Silver Tree, where the night sky was covered with thousands of blue eyes peering into your soul. It took you a couple of minutes to register what just happened, you needed to lie down after that, you felt like you were about to pass out and you didn't wanna fall off the platform you were standing on, so you rested on it while everything else was happening.

While you were asleep, a lot of important events were happening: Shadow Milk Cookie was holding your friends hostage (Wizard’s string restraints were tighter than everyone else’s), White Lily Cookie was about to make the ultimate decision between saving everyone or defeating Shadow Milk, all while he was making sure you didn’t get caught in the crossfire because the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt by his hands, especially hers. So everything was going great for him so far, he was going to kill your friends, rule Earthbread and have you be his favorite doll forever… until… something unexpected happened. White Lily used her Guardian powers not to attack Shadow Milk, but to seal the crack in the Tree, thus ruining his plans (also making shrink in size) and saving everyone in the process. You were slowly waking up after the blast healed the Tree, all those loud noises and bright lights were too much, you had to see what was going on.

“You... YOU...!!!! I gave you only two choices...!!!” his loud complaints woke you up more and more, you quickly got up from the platform and stretched. But suddenly, it started shaking and slowly falling, you tried your best to stay calm and steady, but you were at the top of the Tree so it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. It wasn’t long before the cardboard star you were standing on disappeared completely and you were plummeting to the ground, screaming for help.

“…!!!” Shadow Milk gasped at the sight of you falling, so he extended his hand towards you and a bunch of gooey black tentacles rose from the ground to grab you, bringing you close to him.

“There you go, my darling! Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now, would we~?” he said as he caressed your face, you blushed a darker tone at the gesture, you weren’t expecting to be this close to him like this, this was simply too much!

“Y/N Cookie! Hold on!” exclaimed White Lily, sending large green vines to your location, grabbing you and pulling you away from Shadow Milk.

“NO!!! You're NOT taking my star away from ME!!!!” he shouted as he sent more tentacles to grab you and pull you away from her, both cookies were now pulling you in opposite directions. It hurt you a lot, you were cracking from the tight grips the vines and tentacles had on you. You were visibly uncomfortable and groaning loudly, both cookies were now fighting for your safety and survival.

“How dare you ruin... This moment I've been waiting for for so long...” his tentacles’ grip on you was weakening, White Lily vines’ kept pulling away from him, their grips were so tight you were losing air, you couldn’t breathe properly anymore.

“Eugh... Agh...” you didn’t like hearing him groan in pain, his tentacles were getting weaker and weaker. White Lily took his moment of weakness to her advantage and used her vines to pull harder, successfully bringing you closer to her.

“WHOA!!” you exclaimed as you were pulled away from Shadow Milk’s grasp.

“ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

…

……everything went silent, everything turned white…

………….

You were unconscious for a long time.

“…….Y-……” someone was calling out to you.

“…Y/N…………..” you were slowly opening your eyes.

“……Y/N Cookie…!” your eyes shot wide open, you were breathing heavy, you tried to get up but the pain in your waist hit you like a bullet. Pure Vanilla and White Lily were holding you steady, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself more.

“It’s alright, Y/N Cookie! You’re safe.” said Pure Vanilla as he was healing your wounds.

“Aughh, hmm? Pure Vanilla Cookie…? White Lily Cookie…?”

“Oh Y/N Cookie, I’m so sorry for the damage I caused, if there’s anything I could do to make it up to you…” said White Lily, gently placing her hand on your forehead while looking away from your damaged self.

“No no, it’s ok. You did it to save me, thank you…”

White Lily smiled softly at you, Pure Vanilla smiled at her, he was so grateful that she was able to save you. A few moments later, Gingerbrave and friends, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell came to see you.

“Y/N Cookie, you’re ok!” exclaimed Gingerbrave.

“Oh thank the Witches you’re alright!” said Strawberry.

“Finally, it’s all over for that Beast. Thank you so much, White Lily Cookie.” added Wizard.

“Hehe, hey guys.” you whispered as you tried to get up, your voice was weak from the screaming, and you couldn’t maintain your balance from your broken waist. Luckily, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell were there to catch you.

“Careful Y/N Cookie, do not overexert yourself.” said Mercurial Knight.

“Don’t worry Y/N Cookie, we’ll help you get better, we’ll take you back to the kingdom so you can rest!” said Silverbell while smiling at you.

“Thanks, you two, I appreciate it.”

As you all returned to the Faerie kingdom, you all noticed how everything was going back to normal, all the magic from Shadow Milk’s realm was receding. Oh man… he was gone… oh… why were you feeling sad? This was supposed to be a good thing, right? …right? You weren’t sure how to feel about this, until you heard his voice again.

“You think you won, don't you?!”

“HUH?! How are you still talking?!” exclaimed Wizard, you wanted to know how he was talking too!

“You may be celebrating your little victory for now... ... But heed my words! We have finally risen. Do not think that you can hold us back. Foolish Cookies...! You simply have no idea what's waiting for you...! HA HA HA HA HA!”

…

…….

……….

It had been a while since Shadow Milk warned you all about the upcoming danger that was headed your way. You were feeling better about your injuries, Pure Vanilla managed to heal you and the Faerie Cookies patched you up. Everyone was celebrating White Lily's triumph over Shadow Milk's evil ways by having a feast to honor her and the late Elder Faerie. None of this made you feel better emotionally though, you felt conflicted whether you should be happy for everyone winning against Shadow Milk... or sad over his forced departure. You needed some time alone to think, so you excused yourself to go check on the Silver Tree, Mercurial Knight suggested against this because you were still healing from your wounds. You told him you'd be ok on your own, you trusted White Lily's magic would protect you from harm, so he let you go. You made your way towards the Tree, where you rested your head against it and imagined yourself with Shadow Milk again.

"Hey, Shadow Milk Cookie? ...I thought your show was great. I thought... I think... you're great! You're amazing, and funny, and extremely handsome, heh." you started quietly, hoping he could hear you from inside the Tree.

"I wish... I wish I could... see you again..." you whispered as you placed your hands on the Tree, giving it a little kiss, maybe he could feel you from the other side...

...

......

..........

"You're an interesting little cookie, aren't you~?" he spoke to you in your head, so no one else could hear you. You were startled by his response, you didn't think he'd actually say something! You took a few steps back from the Tree, you were hoping nobody saw you doing all of this.

"What the?? How are you talking to me?"

"I'm in your head, silly! Heheheheh!"

"Oh, right. That's not concerning at all."

"Hehe! Y'know, out of all the Cookies I've tormented today, I didn't expect you to resist. In fact, it almost looked like you were truly... interested in me! Why is that?"

You didn't think he'd ask you about your behavior towards him, so with no other way of answering (cause you knew he could see through your lies), you told him the truth.

"O-Oh, w-well, I just... I just thought... that... you were the most intriguing Cookie I've ever met, and I've met a lot of Cookies on my many adventures, but none of them had the same effect on me like you have."

"And what might that be?"

"...Your charms, your witty banter, the fact that you made me laugh several times during your show... and... the way you treated me was so... gentle and caring... not to mention bold... I honestly didn't expect that coming from the Beast of Deceit himself."

Your answer filled Shadow Milk's ego... and his heart. He felt himself blushing and genuinely smiling from the honest opinion you had about him, he wanted to jump out of the Tree to give you a big hug and never let go, he wanted to smooch you until you were breathless, leaving marks on you to let everyone know that you were his and only his.

"...Well aren't you such a cute little cookie~? As a token of my appreciation, here's a little something that you may have lost during my show." you tilted your head in confusion, what was he talking about? Suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard something fall behind you. You quickly turned around and gasped at what you saw. It was your hat! The one that puppet gifted you! Oh, you were so happy to see that hat again, you took a quick sniff and... yep, the same blueberry milk scent from before.

"...Thank you!" you held the hat close to you before you put it on, still fits.

"You're welcome, doll! Just make sure you don't lose it again... or let your small wizard friend see you with it... hats like that one don't just grow on trees, y'know. And... if you ever come back here... I'd love for you to give me more of those sweet and tender kisses of yours, maybe I could return the favor~."

What the?! How does he know about...?? Wait, he knows, but you never actually kissed him... did you? In a split second, your mind travelled back to the memory of you... giving the puppet a kiss... oh my Witches...

"I- uh-... uhhh...b-but... w-wait what?!" is all that came out of your mouth. You couldn't believe it: The puppet, that was him in disguise! You kissed Shadow Milk Cookie (on the forehead, but still)! Shadow Milk laughed heartily at your stuttering self, blushing while doing so.

"Hahahaha! Oh, you look so adorable when you're confused~!" he teased with a devious grin that you couldn't see. You were feeling very dizzy from all your rushing thoughts and rapidly beating heart, you had to sit down for a little while, luckily the wind was there to cool off your head.

"Hehe, you're full of surprises, Shadow Milk Cookie. And sure, if I ever come back here... then maybe... I could give you a surprise of my own~." you said while taking your hat from your head and giving it a long kiss while looking at the Tree, knowing that he could somehow still see you. Your words and your actions made him gasp loudly and jump with excitement, his face turning dark blue while he floated giddily, giggling, squealing, flapping his hands and kicking his feet in the air like a high school girl who got asked out on a date by the hottest guy in school. You heard him making all those noises, which made a light blush grow on your cheeks, then you chuckled while covering your mouth with one hand. But alas, it was time to go, you knew this because you heard your friends calling you in the distance.

"Y/N Cookie, come on! We gotta go!" shouted Gingerbrave.

"Pure Vanilla and White Lily are calling us!" said Strawberry as loudly as she could.

"Let's go Y/N Cookie, we don't wanna keep them waiting, do we?" added Wizard.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming!" you answered back, hiding the tone of annoyance in your cheerful response. You really weren't looking forward to leaving, especially since you had a good thing going on with him.

"Well, I have to go now. It was nice talking to you again." you told him sadly with a small frown on your face.

"..."

"...Shadow Milk Cookie?"

"Oh, yeah, my apologies heh, I was just... thinking" he said sternly, staring at your friends, and Pure Vanilla's his Soul Jam.

"Hm, about what exactly?" you said teasingly with a smirk. This made him snap out of his thoughts and smile.

"About how much I'm going to miss you, my shining star~! Hehehehe!" he chuckled lightly. You were blushing a lot, he called you his shining star! Witches, you wanted to jump and squeal, but you couldn't show it because your friends were watching you.

"Uh-... w-well uhm, hehe, I'm gonna miss you too...!" you said while breathing heavily, he's been flirting with you so many times, it was time you did something about it before you left, so you did the next best thing.

"Goodbye, my dazzling jester~!" you finished your statement with a wink and a bow, then quickly turned around and ran to your friends with the biggest grin on your face. You had to hide it from your friends so they don't ask you about what you were doing by the Tree, you also hid your hat somewhere in your clothing only you knew about. As you approached your friends, you all waved goodbye to the Faerie Cookies.

If only you could see the look on his face, he was flabbergasted from your bold move, his face was a whole blueberry, melting in place, drunken smile and everything, sighing dreamily over your eventual return.

"Hey Y/N Cookie, what are you smiling about? Did something good happen?" asked Strawberry curiously.

"Oh it's nothing, just remembered something funny." you said as you cleared your throat, trying to wipe away the smile of your face as best as you could. As you all left the Faerie Kingdom, you took a glance at Pure Vanilla's Soul Jam and you heard him speak to you one last time.

"Farewell, Y/N Cookie of the Cookie Kingdom, I'll see you soon." he said softly, his last message to you, if you could, you'd invite him into your kingdom. You remembered how he mentioned that Dark Enchantress would give him and his comrades new cookie bodies so they could unlock their full potential again. Maybe when he finally gets his new body, you could give him some proper affection. Back home, you stare at your hat as you wait patiently for the day when you eventually reunite with him, when you give him those kisses you promised him... when he returns the favor in the most dramatic and romantic way possible, it would be expected from a Cookie like him, you'd still welcome him and his show of affection with open arms.

When you two meet again.

The end.

[deadsetobsessions]

Pt. 4

Sorry this took so long. In the hospital still. Out of the hospital now!

For @unadulteratedsoulsweets

——

It had been early in the morning when she’d stepped foot in the manor. It was closer to noon, now, that found the reincarnation attentively sitting in one of the (if she remembered correctly from the blue prints) three massive kitchens located in Wayne manor.

She sat atop one of the island stools Damian had ushered her into, spaced a comfortable distance from the man that was her biological father in this life. Her mask dangled at her hip, a comfort she indulged in after unpacking her things. In truth, she’s had cookies before, but it had been so long since she’s tasted it that she might as well have never tried it before. Damian and Alfred Pennyworth worked with maximum efficiency, measuring out flour and sugar and chocolate like there were no tasks more important than this.

Alfred Pennyworth also avoided a specific cabinet that smelled slightly of metal polish and gun powder. It was kept away from the perishables.

Perhaps the manor was smaller and much more homely than the palace, but the reincarnate could see the sense in and approved of the various well-hidden caches of weapons around. Meant for non-lethal take downs, of course, but anything can be lethal if you tried hard enough. Or, considering the vigilante filled manor she had agreed to vacation in, anything could be lethal if one did not try hard enough to keep it non lethal.

The scrape of a spoon drew her attention back to Damian, waving away the off topic musings her mind had wandered into now that a large portion of her brain power was freed from the duty of fear.

She tracked how Damian existed within this space he had so clearly made for himself. He was… happier. Kinder. More. More at ease, more settled into his skin instead of where he stretched it to fit the cast of the Demon’s Heir. Simply, more. He was more Damian than he had been in the league.

When Damian was locked within the walls of the palace, his shoulders were always held straight. There’d been a- not quite darkness- cruelty in his eyes and gait that their grandfather had eagerly nurtured. His chin had remained lifted, his actions closed and callous. She’d feared, for while, that Damian would follow their grandfather’s footsteps. Until the day she saw him sneak a bird into his room to heal, her heart had trembled and grieved to see someone she loved imitate the worst parts of her abuser. It didn’t change the fact that she loved him, but it changed how she taught him.

But experience is a better teacher than she will ever be, and Damian had little chance to experience true kindness in the pits of the league.

Here, Damian is light. Perhaps less aware than he normally would have been, on the look out for fatal attacks as she had trained him to be within the league, but here he is free and safe and relaxed. It feels like she’s sitting in a haze, the chirps of birds and the clouded noon sun casting everything into an unreal light.

“Ukhti, assistance is requested.” Her brother holds out a bowl of dough. Her heart hurt with how happy it was. She squished the dough between her fingers like a child rediscovering her childhood. In some ways, she was.

——

As she watched Damian, in turn the others observed her. Bruce sat beside her, cataloguing every minuscule expression of his child, the first and the eldest, in an attempt to make up for lost time. And truly, it was minuscule. For all Bruce trained in micro-expressions and movements, his eldest- god, he had another daughter, the eldest- daughter remained a mystery from which he gleaned little of. Her face never lifted from that trained neutrality, having resettled back into it after first bite of b’stilla. He cradled the mug of coffee in his hands, the tang of grief and guilt roiling in his stomach as his daughter hesitantly but skillfully rolled a ball of dough.

“Pennyworth has divulged his secrets to me.” Damian plucked the ball from his sister’s hand, who allowed it with traces of… bemusement, perhaps? His eldest daughter flicked her eyes up in question, perhaps mildly amused. Even if she had more than two decades worth of training, Bruce was frustrated that he could not read her. She was his daughter.

Already he fails her. For too long, he had failed her.

“He chills the dough for a chewier cookie. I, and some of the others with adequate taste, prefer this texture. But which would you find adequate?”

His daughter flickered through that sign language again, the one he had no knowledge of. Considering he knew multiple from each continent, that was saying a lot. He was catching a few repeated signs, but nothing concrete.

Alfred waited patiently as they had their conversation, paying sharp attention to their motions. Bruce… felt like he was sitting next to Cassandra. He supposed they were the same, except his eldest daughter hadn’t gotten free.

“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.” Damian grumbled, resting his hands on the counter, making sure to keep it away from his meticulously clean clothes. “We’ll cook them immediately.”

Bruce, in a fit of inspired parenting, offered a compromise.

“We could do two batches. One for right now and save a batch for later.”

Unspoken were the words ‘so she can try the cookies now.’ Despite the silent nature of his intent, Bruce thought that Alfred and Damian understood anyways.

“A fine suggestion, Master Bruce.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”

——

She sensed them before she saw them. Her father had slipped out after his suggestion, no doubt intercepting his flock of traumatized orphans before they could pile in.

Perhaps she had inherited something from Bruce Wayne after, considering how many of them she’d taken under her wing. She rolled the ball of dough between oiled fingers in a haze. Faint memories, impressions of a life long faded, guided her hands as she smooshed the cookies to her preference.

“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Al-Ghul?”Alfred Pennyworth asked her.

‘A Pennyworth for my thoughts?’ She swapped sign language, eyes slyly watching for Damian’s reaction.

Damian, right on cue, clicked his tongue, looking defeated. Alfred, on the other hand, smiled wider.

“A Pennyworth for your thoughts indeed.”

Her humor faded into something softer. Longing. Melancholy.

‘It’s been a long time since I’ve made dessert for myself.’

She glanced at Damian, who was trying his best to pretend like he wasn’t paying attention to the conversation lest he caught another stray pun. ‘Or used it to inoculate poisons.’

“I see.” The butler patted his hands dry onto a towel, a sharp eye on Damian’s efforts at covering the dough meant for freezing. “I assure you that these cookies will remain poison free, have no worries about that. Now, would you like some tea?”

She shook her head. ‘I’ll make it myself later. Thank you.’

“Very well, Miss-”

“Hi, Alfred. Making cookies?”

Her hands continued to work on her tray, placing cookie dough on the tray with military precision. Damian remained relaxed, though watchful of her reaction.

“That’s correct, Master Tim.”

Tim shuffled over to her, and she turned. Ah, her partial benefactor.

“Little photographer.” She smiled, slightly. Her eyes, however, were warm. Alfred stilled for a brief second at her voice.

“Hi. It’s been a while.” Tim plopped down on the seat next to her. His whole body screamed of nostalgia. It’s odd to see the little scrawny Bristol boy grow into a full fledged vigilante. It seemed like yesterday she was keeping him from slipping on Gotham’s manifestations of its rot and plummeting down on its stone heart.

She hummed. ‘Not too long.’

“What is that supposed to mean? When had you met Drake, recently?”

She glanced at the little- not so little- photographer.

“She helped me bring B back.” Tim lied. She didn’t like how easily he lied to Damian… but on account of her fondness for him, she let it slide.

“Did you, Miss Al-Ghul?” Alfred wiped his hands on the hand towel he carried. “Then I suppose we owe you our sincere thanks.”

She blinked slowly.

‘I didn’t do much. I kept him alive just the once.’

“That is a harder task than one might think, Miss Al-Ghul. Master Tim has, arguably, the worst self preservation instincts out of the life risking vigilantes I have known.” And he has known many, Alfred seemed to imply.

She tilted her head in acknowledgement.

“Hey! What is this? Gang up on Tim day?”

“I would participate in that even if it wasn’t,” Damian stated, packing the frozen cookies away in the corner. “Come and help, Drake. My ukht is about to have her first cookies and we will bake it to perfection. Bring the tray.”

Tim scoffed but slid the tray away from her, Alfred seamlessly dropping a napkin for her to wipe off the dough from her fingertips.

“Thanks, by the way. For saving Z and Owens.”

‘They were my assassins. Even if you did manage to sway them to your cause.’ She tapped the marble island, before opening her mouth. “Thank you. For destroying his pit options. It helped me kill Ra’s.”

In her peripherals, Damian settled back, disgruntled but willing to rest his curiosity as gratitude towards Tim’s part in her freedom overrode his need for answers.

Tim stilled. “…What are friends for, right?”

‘Of course, little photographer.’ She relaxed as her, arguably first, friend and now brother popped the tray into the oven.

“Anyways, they sent me in here to see if you’re ready to meet the rest of them.”

“And they said that?” Damian scoffed, coming around the island to stand beside her as she slipped off the stool.

“Nah, they actually wanted me to subtly vibe check her, but it’s not like she wouldn’t catch me doing it.”

“Ukhti’s ‘vibes’ are perfectly fine,” Damian said crabbily, crossing his arms defensively. She tapped the back of Damian’s neck and he relaxed.

‘Thank you for the… assessment of my character and general disposition.’ She signed dryly.

“Ugh, I should’ve made the connection. Your syntax is exactly like Damian’s.” Tim joked, dodging the punch Damian aimed at his nonexistent spleen.

The reincarnation huffed. ‘I spoke perhaps three words to you.’

“And how many people use disposition on a regular basis?”

“I do, Drake!”

“I know, Damian. That was the point, you little walking thesaurus.”

——

They left Alfred in the kitchen, the man all but shooing them away so he could get working on lunch, and made their way to a sitting room. The floor was covered in a plush blue carpet, a fact that made itself vividly present to the reincarnation when she placed her foot on it, the fabric brushing the back of her heels. She was too trained to allow the slip to visible, but for a microsecond, the memories of kneeling and choking clawed their way past her defenses. She made note of the trigger and moved on, compartmentalizing that fact for later.

“It’s you,” Nightwing breathed out, tensing. The others behind him freeze, even more alert than their regular state. Bruce whipped his head towards him, sharp and searching.

“Nightwing.” She greeted. She felt a kinship with this vigilante turned brother. She watched him soar and fall alongside the little photographer. She watched him grow new wings and watched them get tainted with blood and fear and grim hope. She lived vicariously through him, he who flew when she was chained. In some ways, she had ended up watching his back for a long time, both in yearning for the ease he was allowed at her father’s side and to protect the vulnerable back that knew not of its openness. Bruce inhaled deeply at her voice.

Dick stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. She does not disembowel him for it. Instead, she allowed the giant octopus hug her new oldest little brother gave her. There was no aggression in his countenance. Only relief and gratitude.

“You know Dick?” The little, ah, no, she doesn’t want to sound like Ra’s, Tim asked. Dick tensed, clearly unwilling to speak about it. She stepped in.

“I met him once. Eliminated a spider for him on a rooftop. I did not think he would remember.”

“Is that why you were so adamant on knowing who ukhti was?” Damian demanded, scowling. She immediately freed an arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. Damian ducked away with a rather petulant scowl. "Not because of my safety but because she crushed an arachnid for you?"

Dick nodded at him before looking up at her. “I really hated that spider. It was super scary. Thank you for getting rid of it.”

In lieu of an answer, she gently hugged him back.

“I get the feeling.” She said solemnly, voice coming out soft and borne of an implicit understanding. ‘Talk later,’ she signed to him.

“I was not aware you were afraid of spiders, ukht,” Damian muttered. “Though, Richard, I would believe.”

“Hey!”

Dick detached himself and pasted on a mostly genuine smile. “Oh! You should meet the others!”

He turned to the rest of Bruce Wayne’s wards and children to cheerfully point them out.

“This is Duke! He’s Alfred’s favorite grandkid, because he hasn’t burnt down the kitchen yet and reports when he’s injured.”

“Hey. Nice to meet you.” Duke Thomas raised a hand, smiling. “The bar was literally on the floor with you people. ‘Sides, Jason did just fine.”

The reincarnate nodded. Yes, she knew of him, though her memories were hazy. It had been over two decades, after all.

Dick steamrolled onwards. “This is Stephanie-”

“But you can call me Steph!” Stephanie Brown interjected, bouncing in her seat. Despite her bubbly demeanor, her gaze was sharp. Seeing. She liked that sharpness. It was tempered by the same rough and tumble kindness she’d seen in Grave- ah, Jason.

Spoiler, her memories reminded her. It was a soothing distraction from the anxious memories of the league. She found herself collecting little hints and information about this family. Her family, even if it were tentatively so. She caught Bruce staring at them intently, visibly anxious about this meeting.

‘A pleasure to meet you.’

“So… what do we call you?” Steph tilted her head. Hm. A tell Ra’s would have beaten out of her, had Stephanie had the misfortune of being in his presence for more than a day.

“Al Ghul will be adequate.” Damian cut in. The glance he threw her promised a discussion upon the topic of her name. Later, it promised.

“Wow. That’s kind of impersonal though.”

“Steph!”

“What?! I’m not wrong.”

“Anyways!” Dick loudly said over the two bickering kids. “That’s actually it for now.”

“The rest aren’t here as of this moment, but they’ll be around for dinner.”

A white lie. She studied Bruce for a moment before acquiescing. He meant no harm. Despite his capability to inflict harm, his willingness to do so, she could not read a single instance of ill will in him. Not, at least, towards her. She allowed the lie to slide.

‘I wish to see the grounds.’ She put a hand on Damian’s shoulder. He knew what it meant for her to retreat to the wilderness. Nature, where most things were free and where one does not often find Ra’s after he’d had a taste for luxury.

“We will go to the gardens. Ukhti wishes to explore.” Despite the rather curt way he pronounced it, Damian had stepped closer to her side in a gesture of concern. The pit inside of her stomach eased.

“Sounds good! Let’s go!” Steph bounced out of her seat.

“We could tell you stories,” Tim offered from behind her.

“Yeah, like that one time Dick face planted onto one of Poison Ivy’s flower beds because he was distracted by an ice cream truck.” Duke grinned, eyes crinkling.

“Hey! That ice cream truck was full of Scarecrow thugs!”

“And they weren’t worth an Ivy-lecture. I’m surprised she didn’t skin you and make a pot out of your bones, Dick.” Tim yawned.

“Ooo, we should tell her about the time I hit you in the face with a brick!”

“Literally what more is there to that story, Steph?” Tim grumbled.

“I would like to hear this tale,” Damian said, beginning to tug his ukht towards the garden. The rest of the group followed.

“Actually, why don’t we tell her about the time you tried getting Batcow to the barn and he just sat down? Didn’t you bargain with her for an hour, Damian?”

“Tt!”

Duke leaned back and took in the chaos he unfolded with a twinkling grin and Bruce’s sigh bolstering him. And if their newest and oldest addition to the family relaxed in his chaos, well, that was between him and her.

——

Cassandra found her in the gardens, the both of them weaving in between the foliage like light footed cats. Her contingent of Bats were behind them, watching the two former assassins approach each other.

Cassandra had frozen, mirroring the reincarnator’s stillness.

“Ukhti.” The word was torn out of Cass’ throat, filled with tears and relief.

“Cassandra,” she called, fond and kind and loving. Damian’s eyes darted between his sisters. They knew each other. How? She called his ukht, ukhti. A title he had assumed only he could use.

Cassandra scrambled and launched herself at her, silent sobs shaking her frame.

“Hello, Cass,” she caught the flying vigilante, crushing her first little sister into a tight hug. “Freedom suits you, habibti.”

Cass trembles in her arms, hands clutching at the fabric on her shoulder blades like Damian’s. Her eyes softened, and she rested her chin on Cass’s head.

“You know Cassandra too, ukhti?”

She nodded.

“Ukhti named me.” Cass said, voice wobbly. ‘Cass. Cassandra.’ Cass did her name sign. The one she had taught the slip of a girl back when Cass was stuck in a senseless prison and she was only free in terms of movement.

‘First word too.’ She smiled, proud of Cass and how far she’s come. Cassandra reads the pride in her language, the safety and kindness that she’d never forgotten even after traversing the world for years before arriving home, and she burrowed deeper into the hug.

“Oh. I see.”

“Two ukhts.” She smiled at Damian.

Cass shook her head, but before Damian could settle into his hurt at her supposed rejection, Cass explained her confusion. “Ukhti is your name? I’m Cass.”

“Ukhti means older sister.” Damian informed her.

Cass blinked and looked back at the reincarnation. Her shoulders relaxed and drew back, eyes softening and body loosened from its confusion. She smiled, bright as the sun, and deftly clambered around to perch on her older sister’s back.

“Two.” She declared. And truly, the reincarnation was weak to her younger siblings because that was that. Cass declared it so, and it shall be so. Damian grumbled but seemed like they agreed.

“How did you two meet?” Bruce piped up, intent and surprisingly considerate.

“Saved me,” Cass sighed, resting her chin on her ukht’s head. ‘From father and the league. Taught me to speak, a little. My name. Cass. Taught me..’ Cass paused. “Taught me I am not a weapon.”

The former assassin carrying Cass on a piggy back ride hummed in agreement.

“Oh.” The rest of the family glanced at each other. Dick had his shiny teary eyes on, the ones he got when Jason initiated a hang out.

“Not a weapon,” Cass repeated, pressing firmly on her ukht’s head.

A less sure hum. Cass scowled.

“No. Bad,” Cass scolded. “Not a weapon.”

An acquiescing hum, full of fondness and exasperation.

Cassandra Cain will take that answer. For now.

“You named Cass?” Duke asked. Bruce looked at them with gentle eyes.

“After a heroine I knew.” She replied, shifting. Cass hugged her tighter, intently listening. “She was strong. Lethal if need be. But… kind. She had an inherently kind heart. Full of love. Like Cass.”

“Oh, that’s really.. that’s really sweet.”

Cass hugged her ukht closer, touched. She had never known why she had been given the name, but finding out that it was after a heroine her sister looked up to made the day that much brighter. Hopeful. Honored.

“You have not told me this story,” Damian said.

‘I will. One day.’

——

Jason found her at the lunch table. Along with the rest of the brood. Except for, jarringly, an alien named Jarro.

“He’s our alien brother!” Duke said. He smiled, and it was a smile of unassuming harmlessness. A well crafted mask that she knew better than to be fooled by.

She offered three long blinks that had Cassandra, stuck like a limpet on the reincarnator’s back, muffling a laugh.

“Telling truth,” Cass whispered, sentences punctuated by giggles.

She hummed, shifting to more securely carry Cass on her back. Damian sighed and dutifully carried Cassandra’s pack. She smiled at her little brother, who straightened. Adorable. All of her siblings were adorable. She would kill for them. Ah, right. They frown upon murder here. So had she, once. Before Ra’s broke that part of her heart and forced her hands to commit evils that grew gnarled vines through her very soul.

“Oh.” She blinked.

“Hm?”

“Killing is… a choice.” The conversations around them fell silent. Cass’ arms tightened around her shoulders.

“We don’t have to do it, anymore,” Damian agreed. Yes, he understood what it was like, to be raised to kill and suddenly having the option not to.

“Did you not want to kill, before?” Bruce asked, suddenly a bit closer. Her mind was slipping, she realized. It felt… safe, to slip.

‘If I did not,’ she admitted, like throwing stones off of a lock-laden bridge. ‘Damian would bear the consequences.’

She sounded… young. Afraid. Two things she had always been and were never allowed to be.

Bruce Wayne looked at her like his heart was breaking, like he wished he could shoulder her pain on top of the weight of the world he willingly carried since his parents died. This, she is reminded, was why she swore Damian to secrecy regarding her existence. She wondered if he had ever taken the burden of more grief than he could bear.

‘And I could not say no, regardless,” she told them, absent and tired.

She wondered if she would be the one to break him, should she allow him a glimpse of the scars on her back.

“I could have taken it.” Damian grabbed her arm, clutching at her sleeve once more.

“No,” she whispered, haunted. ‘Not while I drew breath, habibi.’

“You don’t have to kill here. We’re all very good with no murder.” Tim reminded her firmly.

“Unless it’s the Joker.” Steph chimed in, bubbly smile gentled into something kinder.

“Unless it’s him.” Duke agreed. His eyes were more serious now.

“No,” Bruce replied, tired. Heavier, in a way that made sour tang of guilt scratch the back of her tongue. She hadn’t meant to give him the weight of knowledge, but she had inadvertently done so with the things she had and hadn’t said. He wasn’t the world’s- she glanced at Tim, who quirked a smile at her- second best detective for no reason.

“Yes, but you’re not ready for that conversation.” Dick snapped, lightheartedly.

Ah. That’s what was off.

They’re kind. They choose to be and they inherently are kind.

It showed. And she wasn’t used to that.

“Lunch.” Cassandra reminded them. She was a solid, grounding presence at the reincarnator’s back.

“Oh, Jason said he’s on the way.” Duke commented, nodding when she quickly did a subtle thank you sign.

“Why does he text you and not me?” Dick whined.

“Wow, man. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of the emoji wall you send?”

“They’re nice! How else are you supposed to know what I’m feeling, right, Cass?”

Cass nodded and gave a thumbs up from her place on ukhti’s back.

“See?!”

“I love you Cass, but you also use a wall of understandable emojis. Dick just spams them.” Steph retorted.

The reincarnator turned to Damian, a silent question in her eyes. He sighed. “Yes, the imbeciles argue all of the time.”

She nodded and the group made their way to the green house for lunch, bickering all the while.

When they get there, Jason Todd, along with Alfred Pennyworth were already at the table.

“Grave.” She greeted as Cass slipped off her back.

“Ain’t no fucking way, Trainer?” Jason leapt to his feet. It was odd, seeing him in casual clothes. Ra’s had kept him in armor most of the time.

“You know each other?”

“At this point, who doesn’t ukht know would be an easier question.” Damian grumbled. She tapped him on the head twice, a light reprimand.

‘Grave was part of your guard,’ she told him. ‘He protected you well.’

“You’re the demon brat’s older sister? That makes so much fucking sense.”

She felt her eyes go cold, lifting to stare at Grave’s rapidly paling face. He visibly backtracks.

“Uh- I mean, you’re Damian’s older sister?”

She regarded him for a beat longer before blinking, ice melting away at the change. The nickname chafed at her neck, too close from a fate she gave everything to save Damian from.

Her head dipped into a small nod.

“Wild.” Jason sat back down. “So, uh, how are you handling the pit?”

‘I am not.’ She informed him, settling down in her seat. Damian claimed the spot next to her and Cass quickly took the other, much to Bruce’s chagrin. Tim plopped down to the seat next to Cass, eyes zeroing onto the chamomile tea Alfred had set out for him.

Duke smiled at Bruce before sitting next to Jason, Steph skipping over and sitting next Dick and Jason at the same time.

“Ukhti managed to get rid of the side effects,” Damian informed the table at large.

Her little bat had the worst ability to make sure attention focused on her, the reincarnation groused. She sighed.

“How?” Clearly, Grave had forgotten how much she beat him into the sparring mat because he leaned forward to glare at her. Well, she hadn’t wanted him too afraid of her.

‘Magic.’

His face fell at the assumed non answer, but Damian’s nod had the entire table once more expectant.

She sighed and began weaving her magic.

——

She stalked through the shadows of the manor, at ease. Bruce and the others had left on patrol, hours ago. She was clad in her sleeping clothes, one of her less favored clothes. Her hands would get dirty again tonight but she was long past the point of lingering on those regrets.

“Miss al-Ghul,” Alfred turned as she stepped towards him, having made sure she made adequate noise as a forewarning. “Having a good night?”

She tilted her head, eyes inquisitively peering at the spotless china display behind the butler.

“Ah, you must be curious about the fine ceramics we have currently displayed,” Alfred smiled. “Would you be so kind as to indulge an old butler on this topic?”

She had an idea about the kind of gift Alfred Pennyworth would appreciate.

——

“Uh, whatcha got there?”

She blinked, pulling bloodied hands away from her clothes where she had been inspecting them. The assassin that caused the damage on her clothes laid beneath her feet, still and lifeless. She blinked again.

Nightwing, Dick, stood in front of her, freshly showered from his patrol.

Some form of long forgotten instinct rose from the dry rotted fabric of her faded memories had her responding, ‘A smoothie.’

“…That’s… not a smoothie,” Dick said as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “I’m pretty sure that’s an assassin?”

She shrugged. “He was after Damian. To force him into being the Demon’s head.” She paused. ‘I am tying up loose ends.’

Dick considered her. And the he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, okay. I’ll help you get rid of the evidence.”

She waved him off, clicking her fingers and looking over the room with critical eyes as the body and traces of the fight disappeared.

“Woah, handy.”

‘Very,’ she agreed. ‘Did you need something?’

He made a face. “That’s weird. It’s usually me asking that,” he muttered. “Uh, yeah. I just… wanted to thank you again. And uh, let you know that the others don’t know so if you could not tell them, that would be great?”

With a huff, she reached over and up to gently ruffle his hair. ‘Of course. Damian did not know either.’

“Right,” he breathed. “You get it.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Been avoiding thinking about it?”

He swallowed. “Yeah.”

She looked at him, silent. Offering a space to listen, and a quiet promise to offer no judgement.

“I don’t- it- I could have stopped her,” he told her, guilt and shame and the lingering whispering voice Catalina burrowing into his ears and heart.

And when he started, it seemed to him like he couldn’t stop. Dick told her of the things he felt as she got on top of him, of how numb and far away things were. How, if it rained, he couldn’t be in the quiet because it made him relive it.

“But… but you stopped her so I shouldn’t even be like this!”

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ She told him, the first thing she’s said since he’s started talking. ‘The only one at fault was her. You trusted her to stop. She did not. Her crimes were not yours to bear.’

She paused, taking in the refusal she could read on his face. “If someone beats another person, would you blame the person who was beaten?”

“No!”

‘Then you are kind. But you are so kind to others, why not yourself?’

Dick fell silent.

“I killed Ra’s,” she reminded him. “He allowed many others to partake in my body without my agreement.”

She leaned towards him, the admittance of something she had not even told Damian ringing painfully in her heart but made all the easier to say by the fact that one of her little brothers (the free, first Robin, the son who stood by Bruce’s side when she could not) needed her. “He himself partook in me. And yet,” she added, when Dick looked up. ‘It is difficult to forget. I am still afraid when I step onto the carpet on the sitting room.’

“The carpet? The rug? The fluffy one?” He asked, confused.

“It is like… your rain and silence,” she crossed her arms. ‘That and the sound of rustling silk reminds me of his chambers.’

“Oh.”

‘I killed him and it will not go away. Would you blame me for that?’

“No, that’s how healing is- oh.”

“Be kind, to yourself.”

His chin trembled. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Ukhti.”

“Ukhti,” he parroted, aiming a watery and small smile her way.

She held out her arms and, with Dick’s tacit understanding, tucked him beneath her wings like she did with Damian. “Thank you for offering to get rid of the body, habibi. But I would not want you to get in trouble.”

“Eh, I’ve helped Jason deal with worse.”

‘Comforting.”

“I know, right?”

——

“Why the hell do you keep calling me Grave?” Jason asked her, grumbling as he tried to wire his new helmet after the last one got damaged.

She leaned back, basking in the sun on the new rugs. After their conversation, Dick had set fire to every fluffy rug in the house-

“What the hell, dude?!” Duke gaped as he watched Dick cheerfully toss an expensive rug into the impressive bonfire they had going on.

“Ukhti doesn’t like fluffy rugs,” Dick said with a straight face. Damian dragged another roll to the bonfire with a scowl. “Alfred Approved project, if you want to join~!”

Duke stared at him… and picked up a roll to toss into the fire.

- and bought new ones using Bruce’s credit cards.

“You got some of your memories back, in the league.” She hummed. “You liked reading. Poems.”

“What does that even have to do with Grave?”

“I remembered one. A line. Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep…”

Jason twisted around. “Are you kidding me?”

She continued. “Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.”

“But I did die.”

She shrugged. ‘People still remembered you. Gotham and Bruce cried at your loss. I saw it.’

She straightened and smiled a small smile at him. ‘Besides. You got better.’

Jason snorted. “You too, I guess.”

She hummed an agreement, eyes slipping closed in the warm light of the sun, relief after a long second life of cowering in the shadows of a man more like a demon than he was a grandfather.