husband toji and wife reader are there for megumi for his first steps! 1,201 words!
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toji isn’t a crier. i mean, yeah sure he’s had his emotional moments. like at your wedding, or when you announced you were pregnant, or when you had your son, or when he found out that meeting you was the best moment of his life, or actually, no he’s a little bit of a crier.
but he can’t help it ! meeting you was the best moment of his life, and he can’t imagine where he would be without you. that being said, toji doesn’t believe himself to be a crier.
megumi had just turned 13 months. and damn was he the fastest crawler you’d ever seen. constantly crawling back and forth between you, toji, his toys, and the fridge. because he can’t go 30 minutes without asking’ “mama, nack?”
but megumi was a good boy, except when he gets angry at toji for showing you too much affection. because apparently in megumi’s mind, toji can only give you attention if megumi’s asleep, or jealousy will ensue from the small toddler.
that being said, when will megumi walk?
toji just got home from work, while you were cooking gyudon and megumi was babbling to himself with plushies in between his fat chunky fingers.
toji immediately sets down whatever he was holding, takes off his shoes, and goes to greet his sweet wife (but not before drooling at the smell of food).
he stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, as he gives your forehead a gentle kiss.
“hey pretty lady, are you single?” he can’t help but flirt. “as handsome as you are, i really hate to say it, but, i’m unfortunately married.” toji immediately pouts.
“unfortunately? what the hell do you mean unfortunately?” he says as he squeezes you slightly tighter, while digging his fingers into your sides in an attempt to tickle you.
well it works because now you’re a giggling mess while trying to chop green onions. it’s a perfect, domestic moment.
“hey! ‘op it!” well it was a domestic moment. megumi clearly isn’t happy about the attention his dad is giving his mom.
“oh yeah, i thought something was missing. it was way to peaceful and nice earlier,” toji can’t help but tease the boy, despite megumi not knowing what he was even saying.
you lightly smack tojis chest with a laughter that has his heart skip a beat even after all of these years.
then it happens.
megumi attempts to get up while using a plushie toy as a crutch, but ultimately fails as he is heavier than the plush.
“oh?” toji murmured, “what do we have here megs?” he asks said boy while intensely, but also warily staring at the boy.
megumi attempts to stand again, this time using the coffee table. and it works, megumi at his prime age of 13 months is standing.
you gasp softly while covering your mouth, you had tried all day for megumi to walk, hell even stand! but now that toji’s home and showing you too much attention, thats when megumi decided, enough is enough.
he stands, albeit very shakily, and he put one foot in front of the other before slightly stumbling. fortunately, he catches himself and just stands there for a moment. and then he tries again.
left. right. left. right. left. right.
is what i imagine megumi is thinking because to toji and his sweet wife, megumi is quite literally just staring at his own two feet.
“uh megumi? sweetheart?” you call out to him. megumi raises his head to stare at you, then toji, then you again. he’s had it.
his dad is 3 inches too close to you. so he puts his best foot forward (not that that means much) and steps.
both yours and toji eyes widen before looking at each other briefly. you both look back at megumi who seems to be looking for encouragement? or maybe motivation?
it was motivation, because seeing you so close to toji irks him! you should be close to him!
so he puts the next foot in front of him, and he does this once more before getting teary eyed, looking at his mama.
“mama,” he whines with watery eyes. you crouch and put your hands out in front of you, with a ‘come here’ motion. “c’mon baby, mamas here, she’s right here!” you exclaim as quietly but excitedly, as you don’t want to disturb his focus.
“nah megs stay over there, your dad needs some more alone time with mama,” he teases the boy while gently grabbing you by the arm and lifting you up.
that’s it. megumi’s pissed.
with his eyebrows furrowed, tears gone, and a mean pout, he starts waddling, very quickly might i add, but not to you, straight to toji.
megumi makes it (very out of breath mind you), and immediately starts punching toji at his pant leg.
as funny as this was, you pick up megumi and twirl him around in your arms. peppering kisses all over his chunky cheeks, which are quite red as his trek was long (it wasn’t).
you’re mumbling praises in his ear, telling him how he’s ‘a good boy’, ‘i’m so proud of you,’ and ‘so brave protecting me from ugly daddy.’
toji should’ve been offended, instead he was frozen in place, staring at his wife, and son who had just walked.
he. just. walked.
he can’t help the fact that tears started flowing down his face. toji is ugly crying.
his hands cover his face as the memory of megumi being born flows through his mind. it seemed like yesterday, you were just pregnant with him!
the sound of cries stops your celebration, as both you and megumi look at toji. megumi looks like he’s damn near in tears just from watching his dad. he turns from facing you, and holds his arms out or toji, while patting toji’s hand that’s covering his face.
toji quickly grabs megumi into a tight hold, while putting his head on top of megumis. although megumi has stoped crying (it was more from shock), he can see that his dad is still upset.
he knows how to help, because it works on him. megumi uses his small arms to wrap around toji’s head, trying to lift it up to see toji’s face.
toji’s not budging. megumi huffs “dada ‘ook.” toji sniffs one last time, looking at megumi with watery, red eyes.
megumi closes his eyes and starts. he starts the kiss assault on both of toji’s cheeks. although because he’s going so fast, it’s hard to actually say that they’re kisses. it’s more megumi having a sad pout while pushing his lips on toji’s cheeks.
and you can’t help but get cuteness aggression, pulling them both into your arms (making sure megumi is still mostly closer to toji), and exclaiming that “you’re both just so adorable!”
toji hasn’t moved since the lip assault on his face started, just wide eyed staring at his son.
then he just smiles, moving one of his arms from megumi to you, making an even tighter hug. such a sweet moment.
“ow!” oops, it might’ve been to tight for baby megumi!
it seems we’ve learned, toji fushiguro is a crier.
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a/n: i’m trying to quickly write at least one thing for all the characters so i can start the masterlists, and each character can have something so i might spam post the first couple of days. thank you for reading, i love you (. .*)β
…but in my head Lincoln is MASSIVE. Crazy tall, yes, but also SOLID. He has to be, to account for the weight of gravity. He’s just BIG. But he’s also hella shy, and everyone is always watching him, which he has shown to be hyper sensitive to.
Logical conclusion?
Lincoln slouches and tries to make himself as small as possible, which is why he always sits. He always wears hoodies, and hides in the deep hood so he doesn’t have to see all the eyes that follow him.
…yes, I have at least three more fics of Lincoln on the way, why do you ask? 👀 😅
𝒃lurb ﹕ a 'secret' relationship between a manager and an opposing team's captain doesn't exactly remain secret for long.. ╱ 𝒘𝒄 # 1.8k
— 𝒂uthor's 𝒏ote ﹕ my first for posting kita 💗 hope i did him justice
● requested ☆
the two of you have been dating for six months, completely in secret because you didn't want the miya twins making your life a living hell, but, kita.. well, kita's good.
but he doesn't actually know how to hide things.
or- maybe he does, and reveals them on purpose. but you'll never know.
he doesn't lie, he doesn't sneak around, and he treats your relationship with that same discipline that he treats everything else in his life.
another thing kita doesn't do is 'the down low'. to him, if a thing exists, it should be acknowledged.
you've already had to stop him from carrying your heavy bags three times this week, giving him a frantic, wide eyed glare until he slowly let go and walked away with a slightly puzzled frown.
today, you're standing at the long folding tables in the back of what you'd call the dining room, helping the other managers of various teams chop vegetables for dinner, and you can clearly see him through the window.
kita's out by the gravel path, systematically lining up everyone's shoes by size and team.
"the inarizaki captain is kind of intense, isn't he?" yachi says softly, dropping a handful of grated carrots into a massive metal pot next to you. she follows your eyes to where they're glancing out the window, shivering a little. "every time i walk past him, i feel like i'm about to get graded on my posture. he doesn't even.. yell, he just kinda.. looks at people. it's like, being judged by a very polite spirit."
you keep your head down, focusing entirely on the onion you are dicing so she doesn't see your eyes darting toward him again. "well, someone has to keep their team from burning the building down. he's just being thorough. that's how he is."
"no, it's more than that," tsukishima says, suddenly appearing behind the table to grab a stack of water pitchers.
he leans against the huge fridge, looking down at you with that obnoxious, half lidded stare that you've learned means he's figured something out and is going to torture you with it. "he's been thorough about our bench specifically. i. noticed he spent ten minutes this morning, fixing the loose hinge on our equipment trunk."
"he was just being hel‐"
"and yesterday, he spent his break neatly folding the karasuno bibs that tanaka left in a pile. it's almost like he has a personal investment in making sure our team runs smoothly.." he sidles a glance at you, lips quirking into a smirk. "or.. maybe just our manager."
your hand slips slightly on the knife, and you have to take a slow breath to keep from turning pink. "he just likes order."
tsukishima lets out a short laugh, apparently satisfied by your reaction, and strolls out of the kitchen.
but not before muttering roguishly, "you seem to know him a great deal."
inhaling deeply, you try to shake it off. he knows nothing, he's just trying to get a rise out of you, you tell yourself, but..
"hey," yachi smiles at you. "ignore him, he's nothing but a pain in the butt sometimes." she scrunches her nose up in an endearing way before nudging your side.
then her eyes widen with horror. "oh, i shouldn't have done that! you're older than me- my senpai! we're not close enough to- to nudge- i'm so sorry- i didn't even- we're not friends.. no! that came out wrong- i–"
you burst out laughing, setting your knife down. this shuts up the rambling girl, who has a small hand clamped over her mouth, a stray carrot danging from in between her middle and ring finger.
"we're friends, yachi. you don't have to panic, you could run me over and it'd be fine." you pause. "okay, maybe not to that extent, but you know what i mean." you nudge her back to show it's okay.
yachi slowly lowers her hand. then she beams at you.
ten minutes later, after your lovely conversation with yachi, the room fills up with a wave of hungry hungry hippos high school boys.
you're standing by the rice cookers, handing out bowls to the massive forming line, when kita shinsuke, handsome kita shinsuke, your boyfriend kita shinsuke, in all his glory, walks in.
he's already freshly showered, unlike most likely many of the other boys, his white and black hair damp and perfectly combed, wearing his inarizaki track pants and a plain white t-shirt.
kita doesn't join the loud, chaotic swarm around the miya twins, though. he walks straight up to the end of the line, waiting his turn patiently.
when he gets to you, you try to keep your expression completely blank as you scoop a portion of rice into a bowl and hand it to him. "here you go, kita-san."
but kita doesn't take the bowl immediately. instead, he stares down at your hands, eyes narrowing as he notices the tiny bandaid wrapped around your thumb – the result of a situation with a dull peeler an hour ago.
shit. you know what’s about to happen. you know him far too well.
without a word, he reaches out, takes hold of your wrist with his firm grip, and pulls your hand up to eye level inspect it.
and you seem to have the best luck in the world, because it's inarizaki and karasuno who are closest to you right now. tanaka, who's in the middle of shoving three pieces of chicken into his mouth, stops mid chew, his eyes and cheeks bulging in disbelief.
"shinsuke," you hiss under your breath as you try to gently tug your wrist back. kita doesn't let go, his thumb just pressing lightly against the back of your hand to keep it still. "what are you doing? people– no, everyone– is looking."
"you used the wrong ointment for a kitchen cut," kita says, still eyeing the cut. he completely ignores the fact that almost the whole of karasuno and inarizaki have stopped talking to stare at him and you. "this is a standard plastic bandage. it breathes too much, and you didn't apply an antiseptic. i know you, y/n. the skin on your hands gets dry quickly in the winter, so if you don't treat it properly, the cut will split again when you handle the cold water bottles later."
"shin, i'm fine, really, it's just a tiny scratch," you murmur, your face burning so hot you're worried you might actually pass out right into the rice cooker. you give him a desperately pleading look, but kita's face doesn't change, remaining firm.
"it isn't just a scratch," he corrects you calmly, his dark eyes meeting yours with honesty. there's something else in there, too. "i told you yesterday that the equipment in the kitchens here are poorly maintained."
"shinsuke–"
"i have the proper medical salve and the waterproof zinc tape in my room. come with me after you finish so i can wrap it correctly." kita finishes, looking up to meet your eyes and smiling softly.
yep. dead silence follows. dead you too after that.
"in... his room?" you hear kageyama ask, holding an empty plate he's evidently already finished (no surprise there) and looking genuinely horrified, like his brain is trying to process a complex mathematical formula that doesn't make sense. (although for him.. more like an incredibly easy question). "why would l/n-san go to the inarizaki captain's room? is this a tactic to weaken our game?"
tsukishima sighs from his spot next to yamaguchi. "it's always volleyball with the king."
sugawara discreetly puts more food on tsukki's plate bc my boy needs to eat more poor guy
you're about to retort when atsumu suddenly drops his chopsticks onto his tray with a loud clatter, pointing a finger at his captain.
"aha! i knew it! i bloody knew it! you've been smellin' like this sweet floral laundry soap for months, kita-san! you've been sneaking around with her, haven't ya?!"
osamu doesn't even look up from his food, chewing slowly. "shut up, 'tsumu. everyone knew except you. you're just blind. right, sunarin?"
atsumu squawks. "oh, you–"
"wait, hold on a minute!" tanaka roars, finally swallowing his chicken and slamming his fists on the table, standing up so fast his chair screeches against the floor. "what do you mean sneaking around?! our manager? with him?! he looks like he's never broken a single rule in his entire life!"
nishinoya, who's next to him, swallows an equally as large bite of chicken and stands up as well. "we demand justice!"
sugawara is staring at you with his mouth slightly open, a slow, amused smile creeping onto his face as he puts the pieces together.
you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.
you wince as you turn to look at kita, who is still holding your wrist and completely unmoved by the absolute uproar he has just caused. "shinsuke, please," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly. "i thought we were going to wait until after to tell people."
kita lets go of your wrist, finally taking the rice bowl from your hands, but his expression doesn't change. "i really didn't see the purpose in making a whole grand announcement, y/n. i'm yours, and you mine, that's all that's important. i thought about it last night."
he.. kita..
fuck. could this man be any more perfect?
"besides, you're injured, and it's my responsibility as your boyfriend to make sure you are taken care of. i'm not ashamed of that fact."
kita turns his gaze to daichi, seated next to sugawara, giving your captain a polite and respectful nod. "sawamura-san. i'll ensure she returns to your share of the rooms before curfew. she requires proper attention tonight."
daichi merely blinks, left eye twitching slightly as he takes in the sheer authority radiating off the boy. "uh.. right. just... make sure she's back by then, kita-san."
"of course, good results need proper rest, after all," kita replies simply. he turns back to you, voice softening. "eat your dinner before the rice gets cold. i'll wait for you by the wash stations, okay?"
when he gets your nod, he smiles again, and walks away to join his table, leaving you standing there in shock (and fantasising about all the ways you're gonna show your gratitude to him later) while tanaka and nishinoya, the dynamic duo, weep out loud about the mole amongst them, and atsumu starts loudly demanding to know who asked out who.
you sigh and drag a weary hand down your face, knowing that the rest of this camp is going to be a very long, very loud nightmare.
but you'll have kita.
tsukishima is going to remain that one guy who's incredibly observant and a pain in our asshole for probably most of them LMAO (apart from his, of course)
taglist 01. ( to be added OR removed, fill out the tag form )
╰┈❥ ⋮ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⌗ MDNI :: oral f receiving :: hurt/comfort :: unprotected piv sex :: kissing :: fem reader :: ever after high x jujutsu kaisen universe.
synopsis :: In a world where every story is already written, Suguru Geto was destined to spend his life locked away in a tower, waiting for the princess who was meant to set him free. You, the Cheshire Cat’s daughter, were never meant to follow any story at all.
7.2k
art creds to @/owwllly
a/n:: I LOVE THIS ONE. i wrote it like 2 weeks before gojo's chapter, so it might not be lore accurate tho and i had to rewrite it since i deleted it the first time... ENJOY!
The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows of Suguru Geto’s dorm room in the east tower, painting the stone walls in warm gold. The space smelled faintly of jasmine and whatever herbal shampoo he was using this week. Geto stood in front of the large mirror above his dresser, sleeves rolled up, working through his six-step haircare routine with the kind of focused patience most people reserved for casting complex spells. His hair was fussy today. You had already lost count of how many times a strand slapped him in the face while another tried to choke him.
You were sprawled across his bed on your stomach, tail flicking lazily behind you, cat ears twitching at every small sound. Your grin was wide and mischievous as you watched him in the reflection.
“Aren’t you going to tell him?” you asked, voice light and teasing.
Geto didn’t look away from the mirror. He ran a wide-tooth comb slowly through a section of his long dark hair, de-tangling with careful strokes. “Nah. Let him suffer a little longer.”
You rolled onto your back, kicking your legs in the air with a soft laugh. The sheets were still warm from when he’d napped earlier, and you buried your face in his pillow for a second just to breathe him in. “You’re so mean. He’s been pacing around the quad like a lost puppy for days.”
Geto hummed, not disagreeing. He squeezed a small amount of leave-in conditioner into his palm, rubbing it between his hands before working it through the mid-lengths. Step two. His movements were precise, almost meditative. You loved watching him like this—completely in his own world, yet always aware of you in the room.
You rolled again, this time sideways, tangling yourself further in the blankets. Your tail swished across the duvet, knocking one of his neatly folded towels onto the floor. “Oops.”
He glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to mess up the bed I just made.”
“That’s the point,” you said sweetly, grinning wider. Your sharp canines flashed. “Makes it more fun when we mess it up later.”
Geto shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He went back to his routine, applying a smoothing serum next, fingers gliding through the lengths with practiced ease. The quiet between you felt comfortable, familiar. You had been doing this for months now—slipping into his room between classes, teasing him while he took care of his hair, stealing his hoodies and teleporting away before he could grab you back.
You watched him start step four, the deep conditioning mask. He sectioned his hair with clips, movements smooth and unhurried. The silence stretched pleasantly until you got bored of rolling around. With a playful glint in your eyes, you disappeared.
First your abdomen faded, then your limbs, until only your wide grin remained floating in the air above his bed for a few cheeky seconds. Then that vanished too.
Geto didn’t even flinch. He’d grown used to it.
A moment later your grin reappeared right behind him, floating near his left shoulder. Then your face followed, ears perked, followed quickly by the rest of you. You pressed against his back, arms sliding around his waist as you peeked over his shoulder into the mirror.
“Hi,” you purred, tail curling around his leg.
“You’re going to make me drop the mask,” he said, but he didn’t sound mad. His free hand came down to rest on your arm, thumb brushing your wrist.
You reached past him for the small ornate bottle you’d brought earlier. “I got you something from Wonderland. Special oil. The caterpillar said it works wonders on stubborn strands.” You uncorked it and poured a few drops onto your fingers. The scent was warm and slightly floral, with a hint of something magical that made the air shimmer faintly.
Geto watched you in the mirror as you reached up and started working the oil into the section of hair he hadn’t gotten to yet. Your fingers moved gently but firmly, massaging it from root to tip. Almost immediately the strands seemed to relax under your touch, settling smoother, almost leaning into your hand. A few loose pieces even curled lightly around your fingers, wrapping softly like they wanted to hold on.
You smiled wider, ears flicking. “See? They like me better than you.”
“They have good taste,” Geto murmured. He set down the conditioning brush and let you take over, leaning back slightly into your chest. Your tail flicked happily behind you, brushing against his thigh.
You continued the massage, working the oil through with both hands now. The long dark hair felt silky under your palms, still slightly damp from the earlier wash. Every time you stroked downward, more of it seemed to calm, the usual restless movement slowing until it draped peacefully over your hands. A thick lock curled affectionately around your wrist, holding gently.
Geto let out a slow breath, eyes half-lidded in the mirror. “That feels good.”
“Yeah?” You rested your chin on his shoulder, purring softly near his ear. “Good enough to tell him?”
He chuckled low. “Still no. He can wait.”
You nipped at his earlobe, playful. “Cruel. I like it.”
The two of you stayed like that for a while. You massaging the oil through the rest of his hair while he finished the remaining steps around your help. Step five was a heat protectant spray. Step six, the final serum. By the end his hair looked glossy and perfect, falling smoothly down his back. Your hands were still in it, though, fingers combing lazily now that the routine was done.
You teleported again suddenly, appearing sitting cross-legged on the dresser in front of him. Your tail curled around a bottle of his shampoo, tail tip flicking against the glass. “You know he’s going to figure it out eventually. Especially with Legacy Day coming up.”
Geto stepped between your knees, hands settling on your hips. “Maybe. But watching him spiral is entertaining.” His thumbs traced small circles on your sides, eyes warm as they met yours. “Besides, I’m more interested in what we’re doing right now.”
You leaned forward and bumped your forehead against his. Your cat ears brushed his bangs. “And what are we doing, exactly?”
“Whatever we want,” he said simply. He kissed you then, slow and deep, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck. You melted into it, purring louder, tail wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. When he pulled back, his lips were slightly shiny. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Only if you’re lucky,” you teased, grinning against his mouth.
He kissed you again, harder this time, hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you off the dresser. You wrapped your legs around him instinctively, arms around his neck. The two of you moved back toward the bed in a clumsy, laughing shuffle. You teleported mid-step just to mess with him, appearing already lying down with your head on the pillows, grin floating above you before your body followed.
Geto rolled his eyes fondly and crawled over you, caging you in with his arms. His freshly oiled hair fell around both of you like a dark curtain. “Cheater.”
“Always,” you said proudly. Your tail flicked up to brush along his spine.
The mood between you shifted easily from playful to something warmer, more charged. His fingers traced the edge of one of your ears, making it twitch. You arched up into him, hands sliding under his shirt to feel the smooth skin of his back. The afternoon light was fading outside, turning the room softer, more intimate.
Geto pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then lower. “You’re going to wrinkle my shirt.”
“You’re going to take it off anyway soon anyway,” you countered, already tugging at the fabric.
He laughed quietly, the sound vibrating against your neck. You helped him pull the shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room. Your hands roamed over his chest, admiring the lean muscle and the way his hair now spilled freely over his shoulders. You reached up and ran your fingers through it again. The strands curled happily around your digits, holding on like they never wanted to let go.
“See?” you whispered. “They missed me.”
Geto hummed in agreement, kissing you once more. The weight of him above you felt perfect, grounding. Outside, the campus continued its usual rhythm—students heading to evening classes, the distant sound of someone practicing flute near the fountains. But in here it was just the two of you, the familiar teasing, the easy affection that had grown stronger over the past months.
You nipped at his bottom lip. “Still not going to tell him?”
“Not yet,” he murmured, smiling against your skin. “Let him figure it out on his own.”
You laughed, bright and unrestrained, and pulled him down again. The oil from Wonderland left a faint pleasant scent on your hands as you tangled them deeper in his hair. Whatever secret he was keeping could wait. Right now, with his body warm against yours and his hair wrapped gently around your fingers, everything else felt far away.
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the bed. Geto’s routine was long finished, but neither of you were in any hurry to leave this moment. There would be time for confessions and Legacy Day drama later.
The last drops of oil glistened on your fingers as you gave Suguru’s hair one final, slow stroke. The dark strands had gone completely calm under your touch, draping smoothly down his back and curling affectionately around your wrists like they refused to let go.
Suguru let out a low, satisfied hum, eyes half-lidded in the mirror. He turned around slowly, hands settling on your hips where you still sat on the dresser. His thumbs traced small circles over the fabric of your skirt.
“You did a good job,” he murmured, voice lower than usual. A small smirk played on his lips. “I think you deserve a reward for helping with my hair.”
Your ears perked up, tail flicking behind you with interest. “Oh? What kind of reward?”
Instead of answering with words, Suguru leaned in and kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours until your head felt pleasantly fuzzy. When he pulled back, his eyes had darkened with clear intent.
He lifted you off the dresser like you weighed nothing, carrying you the few steps to his bed. He laid you down gently on your back, crawling over you until his long hair spilled around both of you like a curtain. “Let me take care of you,” he said softly against your lips. “You’ve been such a good girl today.”
Your breath caught as he kissed down your neck, then lower, pushing your shirt up and tugging your skirt and panties down in one smooth motion. He settled between your thighs, strong hands spreading them wider. Your tail curled nervously-excitedly against the sheets.
Suguru looked up at you through his lashes, a rare soft smile on his face. “Relax.”
He leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, tasting you with a pleased sound. Your back arched instantly, a soft mewl escaping your throat. He didn’t rush. He took his time licking broad stripes over your folds, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it gently between his lips.
“Fuck— Suguru,” you gasped, fingers threading into his hair.
The moment you tugged lightly on the dark strands, his hair seemed to respond, wrapping loosely around your fingers like it wanted more. You pulled again, a little firmer, and he groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. He licked deeper, tongue pushing inside you before returning to your clit with focused, wet strokes.
You writhed beneath him, hips rolling against his mouth. Every gentle pull on his hair made him work harder, sucking and licking with perfect pressure. Your cat ears flattened against your head in pleasure, tail thrashing wildly beside you on the bed.
He slid two fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right while his mouth stayed on your clit. The wet sounds filled the room, filthy and intimate. You moaned louder, gripping his hair tighter, guiding him exactly where you needed.
“Right there— don’t stop—”
He didn’t. He kept the steady rhythm until your thighs started shaking around his head. Pleasure coiled tight in your belly, then snapped. You came with a broken cry, tugging hard on his hair as your walls clenched around his fingers. He worked you through it, licking you gently until you were twitching and oversensitive.
When he finally pulled back, his lips were shiny and his eyes were dark with want. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking unfairly composed except for the flush on his cheeks.
You were still catching your breath when he shed the rest of his clothes. His cock was hard and flushed, curving slightly upward. He climbed back over you, kissing you so you could taste yourself on his tongue.
“Want you,” you whispered against his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist.
Suguru groaned softly. He lined himself up and pushed inside you in one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You both moaned at the feeling. He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in.
Then he started moving.
At first his thrusts were deep and steady, hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that made your toes curl. Your hands stayed in his hair, pulling gently every time he hit that perfect spot inside you. His hair kept reacting, strands wrapping around your wrists and fingers like living silk.
“Feels so good,” he murmured, voice rough. He kissed you again, messy and desperate, as his pace gradually picked up. The bed creaked under you. Skin slapped against skin. Your tail curled around his thigh, holding him closer.
Suguru fucked you harder for a while, chasing the pleasure, then slowed again, grinding deep and slow like he wanted it to last forever. Every thrust dragged against that sensitive spot inside you until you were whimpering into his mouth.
He came first this time, burying himself deep with a low groan, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. The feeling pushed you over the edge again, clenching around him as another orgasm washed over you, softer and longer.
For a minute you just breathed together, bodies sticky and warm. Suguru stayed inside you for a little while longer before carefully pulling out. He disappeared for a moment to grab a warm cloth, then came back and cleaned you up with gentle hands.
Aftercare with Suguru was always like this.
He pulled you against his chest, spooning you from behind. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other sliding under your head. His long hair, still slightly scented with that Wonderland oil, draped over both of you. Several thick strands curled around your body like a second blanket, wrapping loosely around your waist, one thigh, and even gently around your tail.
You purred, sleepy and content, pressing back into his warmth. Your ears twitched lazily as he kissed the back of your neck.
“Comfy?” he asked quietly, voice soft with affection.
“Mhm.” You nuzzled into the pillow, eyes already half-closed. “Your hair likes me more than you.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin. “Can’t blame it.” One of his hands stroked slowly up and down your side, soothing. “You’re warm. And you smell nice. And you help with my routine.”
You smiled, tail curling around his calf. The two of you fit together perfectly like this—his taller frame curled protectively around your smaller one, his hair acting like a living embrace. The room had grown darker as evening settled over the campus, but neither of you made any move to get up.
Suguru pressed another kiss behind your ear. “Thank you for the oil. And for calming them down.”
“Anytime,” you mumbled, already drifting. Your voice came out slow and sleepy-cat soft. “Even if you won’t tell him yet.”
He laughed quietly. “Still no. But maybe soon.”
You didn’t push. You were too comfortable, too full of warmth and the pleasant ache between your legs. His fingers kept tracing lazy patterns on your hip. His hair stayed wrapped around you, gentle and secure, like it never wanted to let go.
Outside, the towers of Ever After High stood quiet under the emerging stars. Inside Suguru’s dorm, the world felt small and safe. Just the two of you, tangled together, breathing in sync.
You purred again, softer this time, as sleep finally pulled you under. Suguru stayed awake a little longer, holding you close, his hair still lightly curled around your body like a silent promise.
Whatever secret he was keeping could wait until tomorrow.
For tonight, this was enough.
The lecture hall for Advanced Destiny Theory was only half-full, the usual morning chatter mixing with the scratch of quills on parchment. Suguru Geto sat near the center, posture relaxed, his long dark hair tied in a loose half-up style after last night’s routine. You were supposed to be three rows back. Of course, that rule had never applied to you.
Right as Professor Baba launched into a lecture on narrative binding, your grin appeared beside Geto’s left shoulder, floating cheerfully. Then the rest of you materialized, dropping into the empty seat next to him with a soft pop of displaced air. Your cat ears twitched happily, tail curling around his ankle under the desk.
“Morning,” you whispered, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his jaw.
Geto exhaled through his nose, but the corner of his mouth curved. “You’re going to get us written up again.”
“Worth it,” you said, already digging into your pocket. You pulled out a small silver spoon you’d lifted from a tea party yesterday and slipped it smoothly into the back of his hair. The dark strands shifted on their own, wrapping around the spoon and tucking it neatly out of sight.
Geto reached up, fingers brushing the hidden lump. “Stop treating my hair like your contraband vault.”
“But it likes it,” you purred, scratching gently at the base of his neck where the strands met skin. Several locks immediately curled around your fingers in response, holding on softly.
Across the aisle, Gojo leaned over, sunglasses perched low on his nose. “You two are sickeningly domestic. Not even a little scared about disappearing if you skip signing the Storybook? Legacy Day is right around the corner and you’re playing hide-and-seek with stolen goods.”
Geto shrugged, calm as ever. “Nah.”
You grinned wider, tail flicking. “We’re fine.”
Gojo raised an eyebrow. “That’s all? I’m over here losing sleep about apples and losing the love of my life to a prison of mirrors and you two are just vibing. It’s almost insulting.”
You teleported again, vanishing completely except for your floating grin lingering near Geto’s ear for a dramatic second. Then even that disappeared.
A heartbeat later your grin reappeared on his right side. You fully materialized and dropped a shiny golden button into his hair. The strands welcomed it instantly, folding over the button and hiding it perfectly.
Geto sighed, but tilted his head slightly to help. “You’re impossible.”
“Your hair disagrees,” you said sweetly, running your fingers through the front sections. The dark locks wrapped around your hand, almost vibrating under your touch.
Gojo watched the exchange with growing frustration and amusement. “You know most people are panicking, right? Sukuna’s probably planning something dramatic to stay with his pretty cupid girl. I’m trying to get my story straight and you two are out here acting like the rules don’t exist.”
Geto glanced at him. “Maybe they don’t. Not the way everyone thinks.”
You teleported onto Geto’s lap this time, legs draped sideways, arms looping around his neck. He caught you automatically, one hand resting on your thigh. His hair shifted again, a few strands curling around your waist like a living belt.
Professor Baba cleared her throat sharply from the front. “Miss Cheshire, please return to your assigned seat or I will have to separate you two.”
You gave the professor your sweetest smile and teleported back to your original chair. But not before slipping a small crystal charm into Geto’s hair. The strands swallowed it eagerly.
The rest of class passed with you blinking in and out of existence every few minutes, each time adding another tiny stolen treasure to Geto’s hair. A thimble. A tiny key. A playing card. Every single item disappeared into the dark lengths, hidden flawlessly while the hair itself seemed to preen under your attention.
When class finally ended, the three of you walked out into the bright quad together. Gojo couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Okay, seriously,” he said, falling into step beside you. “What’s going on? You’re both way too relaxed about Legacy Day. Everyone else is terrified of vanishing and you two are just… dating in public and turning Suguru’s hair into a smuggling operation.”
You leaned against Geto’s side, purring softly. “We have inside information.”
Gojo stopped walking. “What kind of inside information?”
You teleported in front of him, grin appearing first, followed by the rest of you. Your tail swished. “Wonderland kids have known the truth for generations. The Storybook of Legends doesn’t make you disappear if you don’t sign. It just loses its power over you. You step outside the main narrative, but you still exist. My mother told me years ago. All of us from Wonderland know.”
Gojo’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” you said cheerfully. “So when we say we’re not worried, we mean it. I told Suguru months ago.”
Geto slid an arm around your shoulders, calm and unbothered. “And I decided it was more entertaining to watch you scramble.”
Gojo stared at his friend, betrayed. “You’ve been letting me stress about this for weeks because it’s funny? LEGACY DAY IS IN TWO DAYS AND I'VE BEEN PUSHING MY GIRL AWAY FOR NOTHING?”
“Pretty much,” Geto confirmed, not even pretending to feel guilty. His hair shifted, letting the silver spoon peek out for a second before tucking it away again.
You laughed, pressing closer to Geto. “He finds your suffering amusing.”
Gojo ran both hands through his white hair, groaning dramatically. “I can’t believe this. My best friend is hoarding the one piece of information that would stop me from having a breakdown every night, and his cat-girl girlfriend is enabling him while using his hair as a treasure chest.”
“Very effective treasure chest,” you added, reaching up to pet the dark strands. They curled happily around your fingers.
Geto kissed the top of your head. “She’s right.”
Gojo pointed at both of you. “You’re both terrible. I’m telling everyone.”
“Go ahead,” Geto said. “They won’t believe you. Most people here are too attached to the idea that the book controls everything.”
You teleported onto Geto’s back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He adjusted his grip on your thighs without missing a beat. His hair wrapped gently around your arms and waist, securing you in place like it had done last night.
Gojo shook his head, but he was smiling now, the heavy tension in his shoulders finally easing. “I hate you both. But also thank you. I think.”
You rested your chin on Geto’s head, purring. “Anytime.”
The rest of the morning passed in easy chaos. You kept teleporting around Geto during breaks, hiding more random shiny objects in his hair. He pretended to scold you every time, but never actually stopped you. His hair, on the other hand, actively helped—shifting and curling to conceal everything perfectly while reaching out for your hands whenever you got close.
By lunch, Gojo had mostly recovered from the betrayal and was bombarding you with questions about Wonderland lore. You answered between bites of stolen pastries, tail flicking happily as you sat half in Geto’s lap at the dining table.
Geto watched the two of you with quiet amusement, occasionally feeding you bites from his own plate. Every so often a student would stare at the way his hair moved on its own or at how openly affectionate you both were. Neither of you cared.
When the bell rang for the next class, you slipped your hand into Geto’s. His fingers laced with yours immediately. His hair brushed softly against your shoulder, warm and familiar.
“Still not telling him everything?” you whispered as both you walked back to his dorm. He had asked a little someone to erase every conversation he had today from Gojo's mind. For funsies he says. Because it's apparently going to entertaining to see Satoru push away his girl just to realize everything in two days.
Geto smirked. “Not yet. Let him suffer just a little longer.”
You laughed brightly, the sound carrying across the quad. Whatever Legacy Day brought, you and Geto would face it together—playful, unbothered, and completely unafraid of a book that no longer held power over you.
The moon hung high over Ever After High, casting silver light across the west tower dorms. Only two days remained until Legacy Day. The campus felt heavier with anticipation, but inside Suguru’s room the atmosphere was quieter, more intimate.
You had teleported back in earlier after paying a visit to your mother in Wonderland without your usual dramatic flair. No floating grin lingering in the air, no cheeky comments. You were curled up on his bed now, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the wall with a small pout you kept trying to hide.
Geto had just finished his evening hair routine. He turned from the mirror, dark strands falling smoothly down his back, and looked at you. Something was off.
Your cat ears were drooping, pressed flat against your head. Your tail, usually in constant playful motion, lay still against the sheets, barely twitching. You were pretending to flip through an old storybook on your lap, but your eyes weren’t moving across the pages.
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed beside you. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. You rolled onto your side, turning your back to him a little. “Just tired. Legacy Day stress or whatever.”
Geto watched you for a long moment. He reached out and gently ran his fingers along the base of one drooping ear. It flicked weakly under his touch but didn’t perk up like it normally would. Your tail gave one half-hearted swish and went still again.
“You’re not fine,” he said softly. “Your ears are down. Your tail isn’t moving. Talk to me.”
You stayed facing away, shoulders hunched. The silence stretched until you finally let out a shaky breath.
“I’m scared, Suguru.”
He shifted closer, one hand resting on your hip. “Scared of what?”
You turned slowly to face him, eyes glassy. “That you’ll get tired of me. Of all my shano— shena— whatever that word is. The teleporting, the stealing, hiding things in your hair, driving you crazy every day. Two days from now everything changes. If we don’t sign… you’re giving up your whole story. And I keep thinking… what if you regret it? What if you wake up one morning and wish you had followed your destiny instead? You could be in your tower, waiting for your rescue. With Manami. She’s the one the story picked for you. She’s supposed to be your fated one. Proper. Calm. Not chaotic like me.”
Your voice cracked on the last part. You looked down, ears flattening even more. “I keep imagining you realizing you made a mistake by choosing me. That you’d rather have the scripted ending than this… whatever we are.”
Geto was quiet for a second, processing the weight of your words. Then he reached out, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs gently brushing under your eyes.
“Hey,” he said firmly, voice low and steady. “Look at me.”
You did, reluctantly, golden eyes meeting his dark ones.
“I would never regret choosing you,” he said. “Not for a single day. Not for a single second. I don’t want the tower. I don’t want the scripted rescue. And I definitely don’t want Manami.”
You sniffled. “But she’s—”
“I don’t like her,” he cut in gently but decisively. “She’s boring. She follows every rule like it’s law. She talks about destiny like it’s the only thing that matters. Every time we’ve been forced to interact for rehearsals, I spend the entire time counting down the minutes until I can leave. She doesn’t make me laugh. She doesn’t challenge me. She doesn’t sneak into my room and turn my hair into a treasure chest or teleport onto my lap during class.”
A tiny, watery smile tugged at your lips, but doubt still lingered in your eyes.
Geto leaned in closer, forehead resting against yours. “I love your shenanigans. I love how you teleport around me just to mess with me. I love that your grin appears before the rest of you. I love coming back to my room and finding random shiny things hidden in my hair because you decided they belonged there. I love how your tail wraps around my leg when you’re happy. I love all of it.”
He brushed a strand of hair from your face, voice softening even more. “The Storybook doesn’t get to decide who I spend my life with. I choose you. I’ve been choosing you every single day since you started popping into my life with that floating smile. Two days from now, when we don’t sign, I’m not going to wake up wishing for a different ending. I’m going to wake up next to you — or with you teleporting on top of me — and be glad I’m free to do exactly that.”
Tears slipped down your cheeks. You wiped at them quickly, embarrassed. “Promise?”
“I promise.” He kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then your lips — slow and lingering. “I’d rather spend the rest of my life figuring things out with you than live out some perfect tower rescue with someone I don’t even like. You make every day interesting. You make me happy. That’s more than any destiny could give me.”
You let out a shaky breath and finally uncurl, shifting closer to him. “I just… I got scared. Everyone keeps talking about what they’ll lose if they don’t sign. I started thinking maybe I’m the thing you’d lose by not signing.”
“Never,” he whispered against your hair. “You’re what I gain.”
You climbed into his lap, straddling him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Geto held you close, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back while the other stroked gently behind your ears until they finally started to perk up again. Your tail began to sway, wrapping around his waist.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
You nodded against his shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry for being pouty.”
“Don’t apologize. I like knowing what’s going on in that chaotic head of yours.” He kissed the side of your neck. “Even when it’s worrying about things that will never happen.”
You stayed in his lap for a long while, just breathing each other in. The fear that had been gnawing at you slowly eased under his steady reassurance and warm hands.
Eventually Geto shifted you both, lying down on the bed and pulling you with him. He spooned you from behind, chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped securely around your waist. His long hair spilled over both of you. Several thick strands moved on their own, gently caressing your cheek, brushing softly against your ears, and curling lightly around your tail like a protective embrace.
You purred, the sound low and content, pressing back into his warmth. “Your hair is cuddling me again.”
“It likes you,” he murmured, lips brushing the back of your neck. “Almost as much as I do.”
Your ears twitched happily. The gentle caress of his hair against your skin felt soothing, almost like it was trying to wipe away the last traces of your insecurity. You intertwined your fingers with his where his hand rested on your stomach.
“Two days,” you whispered.
“Two days,” he agreed. “Then we start writing our own story. No towers. No rescues. Just us.”
You smiled in the dark, tail curling more firmly around his leg. The fear was still there, small and distant now, but Geto’s presence — his words, his arms, his hair gently stroking your cheek — made it feel manageable.
“I love you,” you said softly.
“I love you too,” he replied without hesitation. “Chaos and all.”
You drifted toward sleep like that — safe in his arms, wrapped in his warmth and the living silk of his hair that continued its gentle, affectionate caresses against your face. The weight of Legacy Day still loomed, but for tonight, it felt far away.
Geto stayed awake a little longer, holding you tighter, his hair continuing its soft ministrations until your breathing evened out completely and your tail stopped twitching in your sleep.
Whatever came in two days, he knew one thing for certain: he had already made his choice.
And it was you.
The morning of Legacy Day dawned bright and tense over Ever After High. The grand hall buzzed with nervous energy, students filing in wearing their finest ceremonial clothes. But Suguru Geto and you had chosen a different vantage point.
You both sat on a wide stone balcony overlooking the courtyard that led to the grand hall, far enough away to avoid the ceremony but close enough to watch everything unfold. Geto leaned against the railing, long dark hair loose and flowing down his back. You were half in his lap, tail curled comfortably around his waist, fingers idly playing with his hair.
“You’re really not going at all?” you asked, twisting a thick strand around your finger before letting it go. The hair immediately curled back toward your hand, seeking more attention.
Geto hummed, eyes fixed on the crowd below. “No point. We already know how this ends for us.”
You grinned, teleporting briefly so your floating smile appeared in front of his face before you reappeared fully, now straddling his lap facing him. “Good. More time for this.” You buried both hands in his hair, massaging his scalp gently. The dark strands wrapped around your wrists like they always did, warm and affectionate.
Down below, the ceremony had begun. Headmaster Grimm’s voice carried faintly on the wind as names were called. Geto’s gaze stayed sharp, focused on one figure in particular.
“There he goes,” Geto murmured.
You turned slightly, still playing with his hair, and spotted Gojo walking up to the podium in his pristine white suit. His hair was neatly styled for once, but you could see the tension in his shoulders even from this distance.
Sukuna had already gone. The four-armed figure had stood on stage, refused to sign, and remained completely solid when the minute of silence passed. The shock still rippled through the crowd below.
You watched Geto watch his friend. Your fingers never stopped moving through his hair, braiding small sections only to let them unravel again. The strands kept reaching for you, some of them brushing playfully against your cat ears.
Gojo stood at the Storybook of Legends now. The quill hovered in his hand. The entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath.
Then Gojo set the quill down.
His voice rang out clearly, even from where you sat. “I won’t sign it.”
A fresh wave of gasps echoed below. Geto’s shoulders relaxed. A small, genuine smile curved his lips as he watched Gojo step away from the podium and walk straight toward his girl—in the audience.
Suguru turned his head to look at you. His dark eyes were soft, warm with quiet satisfaction.
“I’m glad I didn’t let Cupid bind me to Manami,” he said quietly.
You paused your hands in his hair, ears perking up. “Yeah?”
He nodded, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. “I would’ve ended up in that tower, waiting for a rescue I didn’t want, with someone I never chose. Instead I get this.” His free hand came up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, thumb brushing the soft fur. “I get you teleporting into my room, hiding random things in my hair, making every day unpredictable. I get to be free with the person I actually love.”
Your tail swayed happily behind you. You leaned in and bumped your forehead against his. “Sap.”
“Only for you,” he replied, smiling wider.
Below, the ceremony was descending into controlled chaos. Students whispered frantically. Some looked inspired, others horrified. Gojo had reached the evil queen's daughter and pulled her into his arms in front of everyone. Even from the balcony you could see the relief in his posture.
You giggled softly, nuzzling into Geto’s neck. “Look at him. He finally did it.”
Geto’s hair shifted, several thick strands curling gently around your shoulders and waist, holding you securely against him. “Took him long enough. He was spiraling for weeks.”
“Because you thought it was funny to watch,” you teased, nipping at his jaw.
“Exactly.” He tilted his head to kiss you properly, slow and unhurried, like Legacy Day wasn’t happening just below you. When he pulled back, his expression was peaceful. “No regrets.”
“None,” you agreed.
You stayed like that on the balcony as the sun climbed higher. You kept playing with his hair, braiding and unbraiding, letting strands wrap around your fingers while your tail flicked contentedly. Geto watched the scene below for a little longer before his attention returned fully to you.
“Think they’ll try to force us to sign later?” you asked, grinning.
“They can try,” he said calmly. “Won’t work.”
Your grin widened, sharp and mischievous. You teleported for a second, leaving only your floating smile in front of his face, then reappeared sitting behind him on the wide railing, legs dangling on either side of his body. You draped yourself over his back, arms around his shoulders, chin resting on top of his head.
His hair immediately reacted, wrapping around your arms and brushing softly against your cheeks.
“I love you,” you whispered near his ear.
“I love you too,” he answered, reaching up to squeeze your thigh. “Chaos and stolen spoons included.”
You laughed brightly, the sound carrying on the breeze. Below, Legacy Day continued without you. Students made their choices. Some signed. Some didn’t. But up here, none of it touched you.
Geto leaned back into your embrace, completely relaxed. His hair continued its gentle caresses against your skin, like a living reminder of everything you’d chosen together.
No towers.
No forced destinies.
No regrets.
Just the two of you, watching the world try to follow its script while you wrote your own.
And as far as you were both concerned, this was the only ending worth having.
╰┈❥ ⋮ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⌗ MDNI :: oral f receiving :: hurt/comfort :: unprotected piv sex :: kissing :: fem reader :: ever after high x jujutsu kaisen universe.
synopsis :: In a world where every story is already written, Suguru Geto was destined to spend his life locked away in a tower, waiting for the princess who was meant to set him free. You, the Cheshire Cat’s daughter, were never meant to follow any story at all.
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art creds to @/owwllly
a/n:: I LOVE THIS ONE. i wrote it like 2 weeks before gojo's chapter, so it might not be lore accurate tho and i had to rewrite it since i deleted it the first time... ENJOY!
The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall windows of Suguru Geto’s dorm room in the east tower, painting the stone walls in warm gold. The space smelled faintly of jasmine and whatever herbal shampoo he was using this week. Geto stood in front of the large mirror above his dresser, sleeves rolled up, working through his six-step haircare routine with the kind of focused patience most people reserved for casting complex spells. His hair was fussy today. You had already lost count of how many times a strand slapped him in the face while another tried to choke him.
You were sprawled across his bed on your stomach, tail flicking lazily behind you, cat ears twitching at every small sound. Your grin was wide and mischievous as you watched him in the reflection.
“Aren’t you going to tell him?” you asked, voice light and teasing.
Geto didn’t look away from the mirror. He ran a wide-tooth comb slowly through a section of his long dark hair, de-tangling with careful strokes. “Nah. Let him suffer a little longer.”
You rolled onto your back, kicking your legs in the air with a soft laugh. The sheets were still warm from when he’d napped earlier, and you buried your face in his pillow for a second just to breathe him in. “You’re so mean. He’s been pacing around the quad like a lost puppy for days.”
Geto hummed, not disagreeing. He squeezed a small amount of leave-in conditioner into his palm, rubbing it between his hands before working it through the mid-lengths. Step two. His movements were precise, almost meditative. You loved watching him like this—completely in his own world, yet always aware of you in the room.
You rolled again, this time sideways, tangling yourself further in the blankets. Your tail swished across the duvet, knocking one of his neatly folded towels onto the floor. “Oops.”
He glanced over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to mess up the bed I just made.”
“That’s the point,” you said sweetly, grinning wider. Your sharp canines flashed. “Makes it more fun when we mess it up later.”
Geto shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched. He went back to his routine, applying a smoothing serum next, fingers gliding through the lengths with practiced ease. The quiet between you felt comfortable, familiar. You had been doing this for months now—slipping into his room between classes, teasing him while he took care of his hair, stealing his hoodies and teleporting away before he could grab you back.
You watched him start step four, the deep conditioning mask. He sectioned his hair with clips, movements smooth and unhurried. The silence stretched pleasantly until you got bored of rolling around. With a playful glint in your eyes, you disappeared.
First your abdomen faded, then your limbs, until only your wide grin remained floating in the air above his bed for a few cheeky seconds. Then that vanished too.
Geto didn’t even flinch. He’d grown used to it.
A moment later your grin reappeared right behind him, floating near his left shoulder. Then your face followed, ears perked, followed quickly by the rest of you. You pressed against his back, arms sliding around his waist as you peeked over his shoulder into the mirror.
“Hi,” you purred, tail curling around his leg.
“You’re going to make me drop the mask,” he said, but he didn’t sound mad. His free hand came down to rest on your arm, thumb brushing your wrist.
You reached past him for the small ornate bottle you’d brought earlier. “I got you something from Wonderland. Special oil. The caterpillar said it works wonders on stubborn strands.” You uncorked it and poured a few drops onto your fingers. The scent was warm and slightly floral, with a hint of something magical that made the air shimmer faintly.
Geto watched you in the mirror as you reached up and started working the oil into the section of hair he hadn’t gotten to yet. Your fingers moved gently but firmly, massaging it from root to tip. Almost immediately the strands seemed to relax under your touch, settling smoother, almost leaning into your hand. A few loose pieces even curled lightly around your fingers, wrapping softly like they wanted to hold on.
You smiled wider, ears flicking. “See? They like me better than you.”
“They have good taste,” Geto murmured. He set down the conditioning brush and let you take over, leaning back slightly into your chest. Your tail flicked happily behind you, brushing against his thigh.
You continued the massage, working the oil through with both hands now. The long dark hair felt silky under your palms, still slightly damp from the earlier wash. Every time you stroked downward, more of it seemed to calm, the usual restless movement slowing until it draped peacefully over your hands. A thick lock curled affectionately around your wrist, holding gently.
Geto let out a slow breath, eyes half-lidded in the mirror. “That feels good.”
“Yeah?” You rested your chin on his shoulder, purring softly near his ear. “Good enough to tell him?”
He chuckled low. “Still no. He can wait.”
You nipped at his earlobe, playful. “Cruel. I like it.”
The two of you stayed like that for a while. You massaging the oil through the rest of his hair while he finished the remaining steps around your help. Step five was a heat protectant spray. Step six, the final serum. By the end his hair looked glossy and perfect, falling smoothly down his back. Your hands were still in it, though, fingers combing lazily now that the routine was done.
You teleported again suddenly, appearing sitting cross-legged on the dresser in front of him. Your tail curled around a bottle of his shampoo, tail tip flicking against the glass. “You know he’s going to figure it out eventually. Especially with Legacy Day coming up.”
Geto stepped between your knees, hands settling on your hips. “Maybe. But watching him spiral is entertaining.” His thumbs traced small circles on your sides, eyes warm as they met yours. “Besides, I’m more interested in what we’re doing right now.”
You leaned forward and bumped your forehead against his. Your cat ears brushed his bangs. “And what are we doing, exactly?”
“Whatever we want,” he said simply. He kissed you then, slow and deep, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck. You melted into it, purring louder, tail wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. When he pulled back, his lips were slightly shiny. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Only if you’re lucky,” you teased, grinning against his mouth.
He kissed you again, harder this time, hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you off the dresser. You wrapped your legs around him instinctively, arms around his neck. The two of you moved back toward the bed in a clumsy, laughing shuffle. You teleported mid-step just to mess with him, appearing already lying down with your head on the pillows, grin floating above you before your body followed.
Geto rolled his eyes fondly and crawled over you, caging you in with his arms. His freshly oiled hair fell around both of you like a dark curtain. “Cheater.”
“Always,” you said proudly. Your tail flicked up to brush along his spine.
The mood between you shifted easily from playful to something warmer, more charged. His fingers traced the edge of one of your ears, making it twitch. You arched up into him, hands sliding under his shirt to feel the smooth skin of his back. The afternoon light was fading outside, turning the room softer, more intimate.
Geto pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then lower. “You’re going to wrinkle my shirt.”
“You’re going to take it off anyway soon anyway,” you countered, already tugging at the fabric.
He laughed quietly, the sound vibrating against your neck. You helped him pull the shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room. Your hands roamed over his chest, admiring the lean muscle and the way his hair now spilled freely over his shoulders. You reached up and ran your fingers through it again. The strands curled happily around your digits, holding on like they never wanted to let go.
“See?” you whispered. “They missed me.”
Geto hummed in agreement, kissing you once more. The weight of him above you felt perfect, grounding. Outside, the campus continued its usual rhythm—students heading to evening classes, the distant sound of someone practicing flute near the fountains. But in here it was just the two of you, the familiar teasing, the easy affection that had grown stronger over the past months.
You nipped at his bottom lip. “Still not going to tell him?”
“Not yet,” he murmured, smiling against your skin. “Let him figure it out on his own.”
You laughed, bright and unrestrained, and pulled him down again. The oil from Wonderland left a faint pleasant scent on your hands as you tangled them deeper in his hair. Whatever secret he was keeping could wait. Right now, with his body warm against yours and his hair wrapped gently around your fingers, everything else felt far away.
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the bed. Geto’s routine was long finished, but neither of you were in any hurry to leave this moment. There would be time for confessions and Legacy Day drama later.
The last drops of oil glistened on your fingers as you gave Suguru’s hair one final, slow stroke. The dark strands had gone completely calm under your touch, draping smoothly down his back and curling affectionately around your wrists like they refused to let go.
Suguru let out a low, satisfied hum, eyes half-lidded in the mirror. He turned around slowly, hands settling on your hips where you still sat on the dresser. His thumbs traced small circles over the fabric of your skirt.
“You did a good job,” he murmured, voice lower than usual. A small smirk played on his lips. “I think you deserve a reward for helping with my hair.”
Your ears perked up, tail flicking behind you with interest. “Oh? What kind of reward?”
Instead of answering with words, Suguru leaned in and kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours until your head felt pleasantly fuzzy. When he pulled back, his eyes had darkened with clear intent.
He lifted you off the dresser like you weighed nothing, carrying you the few steps to his bed. He laid you down gently on your back, crawling over you until his long hair spilled around both of you like a curtain. “Let me take care of you,” he said softly against your lips. “You’ve been such a good girl today.”
Your breath caught as he kissed down your neck, then lower, pushing your shirt up and tugging your skirt and panties down in one smooth motion. He settled between your thighs, strong hands spreading them wider. Your tail curled nervously-excitedly against the sheets.
Suguru looked up at you through his lashes, a rare soft smile on his face. “Relax.”
He leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, tasting you with a pleased sound. Your back arched instantly, a soft mewl escaping your throat. He didn’t rush. He took his time licking broad stripes over your folds, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it gently between his lips.
“Fuck— Suguru,” you gasped, fingers threading into his hair.
The moment you tugged lightly on the dark strands, his hair seemed to respond, wrapping loosely around your fingers like it wanted more. You pulled again, a little firmer, and he groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks up your spine. He licked deeper, tongue pushing inside you before returning to your clit with focused, wet strokes.
You writhed beneath him, hips rolling against his mouth. Every gentle pull on his hair made him work harder, sucking and licking with perfect pressure. Your cat ears flattened against your head in pleasure, tail thrashing wildly beside you on the bed.
He slid two fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right while his mouth stayed on your clit. The wet sounds filled the room, filthy and intimate. You moaned louder, gripping his hair tighter, guiding him exactly where you needed.
“Right there— don’t stop—”
He didn’t. He kept the steady rhythm until your thighs started shaking around his head. Pleasure coiled tight in your belly, then snapped. You came with a broken cry, tugging hard on his hair as your walls clenched around his fingers. He worked you through it, licking you gently until you were twitching and oversensitive.
When he finally pulled back, his lips were shiny and his eyes were dark with want. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking unfairly composed except for the flush on his cheeks.
You were still catching your breath when he shed the rest of his clothes. His cock was hard and flushed, curving slightly upward. He climbed back over you, kissing you so you could taste yourself on his tongue.
“Want you,” you whispered against his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist.
Suguru groaned softly. He lined himself up and pushed inside you in one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt. You both moaned at the feeling. He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing you in.
Then he started moving.
At first his thrusts were deep and steady, hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that made your toes curl. Your hands stayed in his hair, pulling gently every time he hit that perfect spot inside you. His hair kept reacting, strands wrapping around your wrists and fingers like living silk.
“Feels so good,” he murmured, voice rough. He kissed you again, messy and desperate, as his pace gradually picked up. The bed creaked under you. Skin slapped against skin. Your tail curled around his thigh, holding him closer.
Suguru fucked you harder for a while, chasing the pleasure, then slowed again, grinding deep and slow like he wanted it to last forever. Every thrust dragged against that sensitive spot inside you until you were whimpering into his mouth.
He came first this time, burying himself deep with a low groan, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. The feeling pushed you over the edge again, clenching around him as another orgasm washed over you, softer and longer.
For a minute you just breathed together, bodies sticky and warm. Suguru stayed inside you for a little while longer before carefully pulling out. He disappeared for a moment to grab a warm cloth, then came back and cleaned you up with gentle hands.
Aftercare with Suguru was always like this.
He pulled you against his chest, spooning you from behind. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other sliding under your head. His long hair, still slightly scented with that Wonderland oil, draped over both of you. Several thick strands curled around your body like a second blanket, wrapping loosely around your waist, one thigh, and even gently around your tail.
You purred, sleepy and content, pressing back into his warmth. Your ears twitched lazily as he kissed the back of your neck.
“Comfy?” he asked quietly, voice soft with affection.
“Mhm.” You nuzzled into the pillow, eyes already half-closed. “Your hair likes me more than you.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin. “Can’t blame it.” One of his hands stroked slowly up and down your side, soothing. “You’re warm. And you smell nice. And you help with my routine.”
You smiled, tail curling around his calf. The two of you fit together perfectly like this—his taller frame curled protectively around your smaller one, his hair acting like a living embrace. The room had grown darker as evening settled over the campus, but neither of you made any move to get up.
Suguru pressed another kiss behind your ear. “Thank you for the oil. And for calming them down.”
“Anytime,” you mumbled, already drifting. Your voice came out slow and sleepy-cat soft. “Even if you won’t tell him yet.”
He laughed quietly. “Still no. But maybe soon.”
You didn’t push. You were too comfortable, too full of warmth and the pleasant ache between your legs. His fingers kept tracing lazy patterns on your hip. His hair stayed wrapped around you, gentle and secure, like it never wanted to let go.
Outside, the towers of Ever After High stood quiet under the emerging stars. Inside Suguru’s dorm, the world felt small and safe. Just the two of you, tangled together, breathing in sync.
You purred again, softer this time, as sleep finally pulled you under. Suguru stayed awake a little longer, holding you close, his hair still lightly curled around your body like a silent promise.
Whatever secret he was keeping could wait until tomorrow.
For tonight, this was enough.
The lecture hall for Advanced Destiny Theory was only half-full, the usual morning chatter mixing with the scratch of quills on parchment. Suguru Geto sat near the center, posture relaxed, his long dark hair tied in a loose half-up style after last night’s routine. You were supposed to be three rows back. Of course, that rule had never applied to you.
Right as Professor Baba launched into a lecture on narrative binding, your grin appeared beside Geto’s left shoulder, floating cheerfully. Then the rest of you materialized, dropping into the empty seat next to him with a soft pop of displaced air. Your cat ears twitched happily, tail curling around his ankle under the desk.
“Morning,” you whispered, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his jaw.
Geto exhaled through his nose, but the corner of his mouth curved. “You’re going to get us written up again.”
“Worth it,” you said, already digging into your pocket. You pulled out a small silver spoon you’d lifted from a tea party yesterday and slipped it smoothly into the back of his hair. The dark strands shifted on their own, wrapping around the spoon and tucking it neatly out of sight.
Geto reached up, fingers brushing the hidden lump. “Stop treating my hair like your contraband vault.”
“But it likes it,” you purred, scratching gently at the base of his neck where the strands met skin. Several locks immediately curled around your fingers in response, holding on softly.
Across the aisle, Gojo leaned over, sunglasses perched low on his nose. “You two are sickeningly domestic. Not even a little scared about disappearing if you skip signing the Storybook? Legacy Day is right around the corner and you’re playing hide-and-seek with stolen goods.”
Geto shrugged, calm as ever. “Nah.”
You grinned wider, tail flicking. “We’re fine.”
Gojo raised an eyebrow. “That’s all? I’m over here losing sleep about apples and losing the love of my life to a prison of mirrors and you two are just vibing. It’s almost insulting.”
You teleported again, vanishing completely except for your floating grin lingering near Geto’s ear for a dramatic second. Then even that disappeared.
A heartbeat later your grin reappeared on his right side. You fully materialized and dropped a shiny golden button into his hair. The strands welcomed it instantly, folding over the button and hiding it perfectly.
Geto sighed, but tilted his head slightly to help. “You’re impossible.”
“Your hair disagrees,” you said sweetly, running your fingers through the front sections. The dark locks wrapped around your hand, almost vibrating under your touch.
Gojo watched the exchange with growing frustration and amusement. “You know most people are panicking, right? Sukuna’s probably planning something dramatic to stay with his pretty cupid girl. I’m trying to get my story straight and you two are out here acting like the rules don’t exist.”
Geto glanced at him. “Maybe they don’t. Not the way everyone thinks.”
You teleported onto Geto’s lap this time, legs draped sideways, arms looping around his neck. He caught you automatically, one hand resting on your thigh. His hair shifted again, a few strands curling around your waist like a living belt.
Professor Baba cleared her throat sharply from the front. “Miss Cheshire, please return to your assigned seat or I will have to separate you two.”
You gave the professor your sweetest smile and teleported back to your original chair. But not before slipping a small crystal charm into Geto’s hair. The strands swallowed it eagerly.
The rest of class passed with you blinking in and out of existence every few minutes, each time adding another tiny stolen treasure to Geto’s hair. A thimble. A tiny key. A playing card. Every single item disappeared into the dark lengths, hidden flawlessly while the hair itself seemed to preen under your attention.
When class finally ended, the three of you walked out into the bright quad together. Gojo couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“Okay, seriously,” he said, falling into step beside you. “What’s going on? You’re both way too relaxed about Legacy Day. Everyone else is terrified of vanishing and you two are just… dating in public and turning Suguru’s hair into a smuggling operation.”
You leaned against Geto’s side, purring softly. “We have inside information.”
Gojo stopped walking. “What kind of inside information?”
You teleported in front of him, grin appearing first, followed by the rest of you. Your tail swished. “Wonderland kids have known the truth for generations. The Storybook of Legends doesn’t make you disappear if you don’t sign. It just loses its power over you. You step outside the main narrative, but you still exist. My mother told me years ago. All of us from Wonderland know.”
Gojo’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” you said cheerfully. “So when we say we’re not worried, we mean it. I told Suguru months ago.”
Geto slid an arm around your shoulders, calm and unbothered. “And I decided it was more entertaining to watch you scramble.”
Gojo stared at his friend, betrayed. “You’ve been letting me stress about this for weeks because it’s funny? LEGACY DAY IS IN TWO DAYS AND I'VE BEEN PUSHING MY GIRL AWAY FOR NOTHING?”
“Pretty much,” Geto confirmed, not even pretending to feel guilty. His hair shifted, letting the silver spoon peek out for a second before tucking it away again.
You laughed, pressing closer to Geto. “He finds your suffering amusing.”
Gojo ran both hands through his white hair, groaning dramatically. “I can’t believe this. My best friend is hoarding the one piece of information that would stop me from having a breakdown every night, and his cat-girl girlfriend is enabling him while using his hair as a treasure chest.”
“Very effective treasure chest,” you added, reaching up to pet the dark strands. They curled happily around your fingers.
Geto kissed the top of your head. “She’s right.”
Gojo pointed at both of you. “You’re both terrible. I’m telling everyone.”
“Go ahead,” Geto said. “They won’t believe you. Most people here are too attached to the idea that the book controls everything.”
You teleported onto Geto’s back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He adjusted his grip on your thighs without missing a beat. His hair wrapped gently around your arms and waist, securing you in place like it had done last night.
Gojo shook his head, but he was smiling now, the heavy tension in his shoulders finally easing. “I hate you both. But also thank you. I think.”
You rested your chin on Geto’s head, purring. “Anytime.”
The rest of the morning passed in easy chaos. You kept teleporting around Geto during breaks, hiding more random shiny objects in his hair. He pretended to scold you every time, but never actually stopped you. His hair, on the other hand, actively helped—shifting and curling to conceal everything perfectly while reaching out for your hands whenever you got close.
By lunch, Gojo had mostly recovered from the betrayal and was bombarding you with questions about Wonderland lore. You answered between bites of stolen pastries, tail flicking happily as you sat half in Geto’s lap at the dining table.
Geto watched the two of you with quiet amusement, occasionally feeding you bites from his own plate. Every so often a student would stare at the way his hair moved on its own or at how openly affectionate you both were. Neither of you cared.
When the bell rang for the next class, you slipped your hand into Geto’s. His fingers laced with yours immediately. His hair brushed softly against your shoulder, warm and familiar.
“Still not telling him everything?” you whispered as both you walked back to his dorm. He had asked a little someone to erase every conversation he had today from Gojo's mind. For funsies he says. Because it's apparently going to entertaining to see Satoru push away his girl just to realize everything in two days.
Geto smirked. “Not yet. Let him suffer just a little longer.”
You laughed brightly, the sound carrying across the quad. Whatever Legacy Day brought, you and Geto would face it together—playful, unbothered, and completely unafraid of a book that no longer held power over you.
The moon hung high over Ever After High, casting silver light across the west tower dorms. Only two days remained until Legacy Day. The campus felt heavier with anticipation, but inside Suguru’s room the atmosphere was quieter, more intimate.
You had teleported back in earlier after paying a visit to your mother in Wonderland without your usual dramatic flair. No floating grin lingering in the air, no cheeky comments. You were curled up on his bed now, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the wall with a small pout you kept trying to hide.
Geto had just finished his evening hair routine. He turned from the mirror, dark strands falling smoothly down his back, and looked at you. Something was off.
Your cat ears were drooping, pressed flat against your head. Your tail, usually in constant playful motion, lay still against the sheets, barely twitching. You were pretending to flip through an old storybook on your lap, but your eyes weren’t moving across the pages.
He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed beside you. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”
“I’m fine,” you mumbled, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. You rolled onto your side, turning your back to him a little. “Just tired. Legacy Day stress or whatever.”
Geto watched you for a long moment. He reached out and gently ran his fingers along the base of one drooping ear. It flicked weakly under his touch but didn’t perk up like it normally would. Your tail gave one half-hearted swish and went still again.
“You’re not fine,” he said softly. “Your ears are down. Your tail isn’t moving. Talk to me.”
You stayed facing away, shoulders hunched. The silence stretched until you finally let out a shaky breath.
“I’m scared, Suguru.”
He shifted closer, one hand resting on your hip. “Scared of what?”
You turned slowly to face him, eyes glassy. “That you’ll get tired of me. Of all my shano— shena— whatever that word is. The teleporting, the stealing, hiding things in your hair, driving you crazy every day. Two days from now everything changes. If we don’t sign… you’re giving up your whole story. And I keep thinking… what if you regret it? What if you wake up one morning and wish you had followed your destiny instead? You could be in your tower, waiting for your rescue. With Manami. She’s the one the story picked for you. She’s supposed to be your fated one. Proper. Calm. Not chaotic like me.”
Your voice cracked on the last part. You looked down, ears flattening even more. “I keep imagining you realizing you made a mistake by choosing me. That you’d rather have the scripted ending than this… whatever we are.”
Geto was quiet for a second, processing the weight of your words. Then he reached out, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs gently brushing under your eyes.
“Hey,” he said firmly, voice low and steady. “Look at me.”
You did, reluctantly, golden eyes meeting his dark ones.
“I would never regret choosing you,” he said. “Not for a single day. Not for a single second. I don’t want the tower. I don’t want the scripted rescue. And I definitely don’t want Manami.”
You sniffled. “But she’s—”
“I don’t like her,” he cut in gently but decisively. “She’s boring. She follows every rule like it’s law. She talks about destiny like it’s the only thing that matters. Every time we’ve been forced to interact for rehearsals, I spend the entire time counting down the minutes until I can leave. She doesn’t make me laugh. She doesn’t challenge me. She doesn’t sneak into my room and turn my hair into a treasure chest or teleport onto my lap during class.”
A tiny, watery smile tugged at your lips, but doubt still lingered in your eyes.
Geto leaned in closer, forehead resting against yours. “I love your shenanigans. I love how you teleport around me just to mess with me. I love that your grin appears before the rest of you. I love coming back to my room and finding random shiny things hidden in my hair because you decided they belonged there. I love how your tail wraps around my leg when you’re happy. I love all of it.”
He brushed a strand of hair from your face, voice softening even more. “The Storybook doesn’t get to decide who I spend my life with. I choose you. I’ve been choosing you every single day since you started popping into my life with that floating smile. Two days from now, when we don’t sign, I’m not going to wake up wishing for a different ending. I’m going to wake up next to you — or with you teleporting on top of me — and be glad I’m free to do exactly that.”
Tears slipped down your cheeks. You wiped at them quickly, embarrassed. “Promise?”
“I promise.” He kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then your lips — slow and lingering. “I’d rather spend the rest of my life figuring things out with you than live out some perfect tower rescue with someone I don’t even like. You make every day interesting. You make me happy. That’s more than any destiny could give me.”
You let out a shaky breath and finally uncurl, shifting closer to him. “I just… I got scared. Everyone keeps talking about what they’ll lose if they don’t sign. I started thinking maybe I’m the thing you’d lose by not signing.”
“Never,” he whispered against your hair. “You’re what I gain.”
You climbed into his lap, straddling him, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. Geto held you close, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back while the other stroked gently behind your ears until they finally started to perk up again. Your tail began to sway, wrapping around his waist.
“Better?” he asked quietly.
You nodded against his shoulder. “Yeah. Sorry for being pouty.”
“Don’t apologize. I like knowing what’s going on in that chaotic head of yours.” He kissed the side of your neck. “Even when it’s worrying about things that will never happen.”
You stayed in his lap for a long while, just breathing each other in. The fear that had been gnawing at you slowly eased under his steady reassurance and warm hands.
Eventually Geto shifted you both, lying down on the bed and pulling you with him. He spooned you from behind, chest pressed to your back, arms wrapped securely around your waist. His long hair spilled over both of you. Several thick strands moved on their own, gently caressing your cheek, brushing softly against your ears, and curling lightly around your tail like a protective embrace.
You purred, the sound low and content, pressing back into his warmth. “Your hair is cuddling me again.”
“It likes you,” he murmured, lips brushing the back of your neck. “Almost as much as I do.”
Your ears twitched happily. The gentle caress of his hair against your skin felt soothing, almost like it was trying to wipe away the last traces of your insecurity. You intertwined your fingers with his where his hand rested on your stomach.
“Two days,” you whispered.
“Two days,” he agreed. “Then we start writing our own story. No towers. No rescues. Just us.”
You smiled in the dark, tail curling more firmly around his leg. The fear was still there, small and distant now, but Geto’s presence — his words, his arms, his hair gently stroking your cheek — made it feel manageable.
“I love you,” you said softly.
“I love you too,” he replied without hesitation. “Chaos and all.”
You drifted toward sleep like that — safe in his arms, wrapped in his warmth and the living silk of his hair that continued its gentle, affectionate caresses against your face. The weight of Legacy Day still loomed, but for tonight, it felt far away.
Geto stayed awake a little longer, holding you tighter, his hair continuing its soft ministrations until your breathing evened out completely and your tail stopped twitching in your sleep.
Whatever came in two days, he knew one thing for certain: he had already made his choice.
And it was you.
The morning of Legacy Day dawned bright and tense over Ever After High. The grand hall buzzed with nervous energy, students filing in wearing their finest ceremonial clothes. But Suguru Geto and you had chosen a different vantage point.
You both sat on a wide stone balcony overlooking the courtyard that led to the grand hall, far enough away to avoid the ceremony but close enough to watch everything unfold. Geto leaned against the railing, long dark hair loose and flowing down his back. You were half in his lap, tail curled comfortably around his waist, fingers idly playing with his hair.
“You’re really not going at all?” you asked, twisting a thick strand around your finger before letting it go. The hair immediately curled back toward your hand, seeking more attention.
Geto hummed, eyes fixed on the crowd below. “No point. We already know how this ends for us.”
You grinned, teleporting briefly so your floating smile appeared in front of his face before you reappeared fully, now straddling his lap facing him. “Good. More time for this.” You buried both hands in his hair, massaging his scalp gently. The dark strands wrapped around your wrists like they always did, warm and affectionate.
Down below, the ceremony had begun. Headmaster Grimm’s voice carried faintly on the wind as names were called. Geto’s gaze stayed sharp, focused on one figure in particular.
“There he goes,” Geto murmured.
You turned slightly, still playing with his hair, and spotted Gojo walking up to the podium in his pristine white suit. His hair was neatly styled for once, but you could see the tension in his shoulders even from this distance.
Sukuna had already gone. The four-armed figure had stood on stage, refused to sign, and remained completely solid when the minute of silence passed. The shock still rippled through the crowd below.
You watched Geto watch his friend. Your fingers never stopped moving through his hair, braiding small sections only to let them unravel again. The strands kept reaching for you, some of them brushing playfully against your cat ears.
Gojo stood at the Storybook of Legends now. The quill hovered in his hand. The entire courtyard seemed to hold its breath.
Then Gojo set the quill down.
His voice rang out clearly, even from where you sat. “I won’t sign it.”
A fresh wave of gasps echoed below. Geto’s shoulders relaxed. A small, genuine smile curved his lips as he watched Gojo step away from the podium and walk straight toward his girl—in the audience.
Suguru turned his head to look at you. His dark eyes were soft, warm with quiet satisfaction.
“I’m glad I didn’t let Cupid bind me to Manami,” he said quietly.
You paused your hands in his hair, ears perking up. “Yeah?”
He nodded, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. “I would’ve ended up in that tower, waiting for a rescue I didn’t want, with someone I never chose. Instead I get this.” His free hand came up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, thumb brushing the soft fur. “I get you teleporting into my room, hiding random things in my hair, making every day unpredictable. I get to be free with the person I actually love.”
Your tail swayed happily behind you. You leaned in and bumped your forehead against his. “Sap.”
“Only for you,” he replied, smiling wider.
Below, the ceremony was descending into controlled chaos. Students whispered frantically. Some looked inspired, others horrified. Gojo had reached the evil queen's daughter and pulled her into his arms in front of everyone. Even from the balcony you could see the relief in his posture.
You giggled softly, nuzzling into Geto’s neck. “Look at him. He finally did it.”
Geto’s hair shifted, several thick strands curling gently around your shoulders and waist, holding you securely against him. “Took him long enough. He was spiraling for weeks.”
“Because you thought it was funny to watch,” you teased, nipping at his jaw.
“Exactly.” He tilted his head to kiss you properly, slow and unhurried, like Legacy Day wasn’t happening just below you. When he pulled back, his expression was peaceful. “No regrets.”
“None,” you agreed.
You stayed like that on the balcony as the sun climbed higher. You kept playing with his hair, braiding and unbraiding, letting strands wrap around your fingers while your tail flicked contentedly. Geto watched the scene below for a little longer before his attention returned fully to you.
“Think they’ll try to force us to sign later?” you asked, grinning.
“They can try,” he said calmly. “Won’t work.”
Your grin widened, sharp and mischievous. You teleported for a second, leaving only your floating smile in front of his face, then reappeared sitting behind him on the wide railing, legs dangling on either side of his body. You draped yourself over his back, arms around his shoulders, chin resting on top of his head.
His hair immediately reacted, wrapping around your arms and brushing softly against your cheeks.
“I love you,” you whispered near his ear.
“I love you too,” he answered, reaching up to squeeze your thigh. “Chaos and stolen spoons included.”
You laughed brightly, the sound carrying on the breeze. Below, Legacy Day continued without you. Students made their choices. Some signed. Some didn’t. But up here, none of it touched you.
Geto leaned back into your embrace, completely relaxed. His hair continued its gentle caresses against your skin, like a living reminder of everything you’d chosen together.
No towers.
No forced destinies.
No regrets.
Just the two of you, watching the world try to follow its script while you wrote your own.
And as far as you were both concerned, this was the only ending worth having.
David is the type of person who's deathly afraid of bugs, but he doesn't scream or anything when he sees one, instead he freezes up as if it'll eat him if he breathes too hard.
On that note, Tank loves to pick up random bugs and hold it up to his face, saying something like:
"say im ___ and I'll put it down" or "admit ___ and I'll stop"
Okay but like will we ever find out how that trip to the amusement park went?
Like, I know in my heart that Dreamer was enthusiastically showing Corvus as many of the rides as they could. But were they able to pull Lincoln onto any of them? Which one becomes Corvus' favourite, and is it different to the most effective ride / attraction for his feeding needs? How many pictures did they take and end up showing Theo (if he didn't come along, coz I'm not 100% sure he was invited)?
I need to hear that Corvus had the time of his life, not just because he got an ample feeding, but because it was spent with two thirds of his total friend count, which makes it better. I want to hear Corvus slowly learn that he can enjoy himself without it needing to be some kind of function for him.
And I want an audio where the whole MAAM Gang visits an amusement park together, was it obvious?
Dreamer putting their hand over Lincoln’s when they show him something on their phone.
Dreamer rubbing Lincoln’s arm comfortingly after he takes another phone call about his parents.
Dreamer taking one of his hands in theirs and rubbing the back of it with their thumbs when he tells them the whole truth about back home.
Dreamer turning into him to laugh when they have a private giggle to themselves after an inside joke.
Dreamer tapping him on the shoulder to let him know they’re there, greeting him as he turns around with a gentle “Boo!” and a cheeky smile.
Dreamer clinging to Lincoln’s sleeve like a lifeline when they finally tell him about everything that led up to their powers unsealing.
Dreamer giving Lincoln a kiss on the cheek as they rush away from the Student Union, because they’ve made themselves late to their next class.
Dreamer resting their chin on Lincoln’s shoulder when he shows them something on his phone.
Little ways that Dreamer slowly starts making excuses to be in physical contact with Lincoln - always including an “Is this okay?” as they do - before the big confession.
Lincoln getting flustered as fuck, every goddamn time.
