Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter Text
One of the perks of being an immortal cookie, the Fount of Knowledge mused, is never worrying about dying.
Looking down at his handiwork, the Fount of Knowledge starts writing down instructions on how to save a cookie during emergencies. Not all cookies are blessed with magic, and those who are not guaranteed to have the innate ability to use healing magic.
The Fount of Knowledge coughs blue jam into his arm.
And as the holder of all knowledge, it was his sworn duty to aid cookies to better understand their own dough. Cuts and bruises may take a few days to heal, but deep scratches from cake monsters or severe injuries from disasters don’t.
The Fount of Knowledge frowns, he should have done a better job at stitching. Now the floor is a mess.
Fortunately, the cookies have the Fount of Knowledge to guide them to protect their brethren from crumbling. With his omniscience, he taught the common cookie how to stitch together a jagged stab wound, how long it takes for a cookie to faint from blood loss, and even made cookie-like marionettes to act as cadavers for live demonstrations.
Cookies were not open to having their dead be open, even if it is for medical advancement. And even if a few are, they tend to spoil quickly after crumbling. A live cookie was the only option the Fount of Knowledge had.
But one day, when the Fount of Knowledge was carefully opening up a marionette, malicious—
Ungrateful, so, so so so ungrateful,
—cookies accused the Fount of Knowledge of lying. If no grave was touched, and no cookie attended by the Fount of Knowledge, how could he possibly know all of this? There was a simultaneous gasp from the audience. Whispers and uncertainty were present among the crowd. Despite the adversary against him, the Fount of Knowledge readily has an answer.
Looking at the mirror, the Fount of Knowledge traces the fresh scar he made.
“The witches told me.”
He tells himself it was for the sake of the cookiekind.
The first time Shadow Milk allowed Pure Vanilla to touch his scars was when they were taking a bath together.
Shadow Milk barely tolerated Pure Vanilla seeing his scars, much less touching them. The first incident that forced Shadow Milk to get Pure Vanilla for help was when he realized he was unable to reattach his head after attempting to scare the local children by juggling his head.
Pure Vanilla asked if he could help stitch his head back, but Shadow Milk’s pride refused such pity. Instead, Pure Vanilla gives him all the supplies he needs for the wound care and hovered his hands over his neck as Shadow Milk stitched it back together. Eventually, and gradually, Shadow Milk permitted Pure Vanilla to see all of his scars when he replaced centuries-old thread.
With every new thread, Pure Vanilla kept a careful distance away from scarred skin when healing him. Silent, but Shadow Milk could almost hear the questions inside Pure Vanilla’s head. But typical of Pure Vanilla, he never asked unless prompted. Especially with the fragile trust Shadow Milk gives him.
Shadow Milk hated the vulnerability, reminders of his past, that he presents to Pure Vanilla.
Pure Vanilla, who reads him with easy understanding and care, and accepts the bare minimum of what Shadow Milk gives and never asks for more.
It was a shock during a quiet evening after a winded meeting with the Creme Republic, when Pure Vanilla nearly slipped because of a portal appearing in his bathroom and Shadow Milk exiting from it.
“Move over,” Shadow Milk commanded, unzipping his bodysuit.
Pure Vanilla, recovering from his surprise at Shadow Milk’s sudden appearance, sighs when Shadow Milk starts entering the bathtub. The rubber cream sheep floated towards the rising edge, making soft bleating sounds as they hit each other.
Fully submerging himself in the vanilla-scented water, Shadow Milk observes his partner. For his part, Pure Vanilla waits as he stands up again to grab the shampoo and soap that Shadow Milk enjoys using. As he sits down and places the products on the deck near the jester, Shadow Milk opens his mouth.
“I want you to wash me.”
Pure Vanilla freezes. Slowly, with eyes wide open, he turns to Shadow Milk.
Shadow Milk almost flinches at the softness and concern in Pure Vanilla’s eyes. He felt his claws almost scraping the porcelain. “Don’t make me say it again. Get over here, now.”
Gently, as if not trying to startle a wary alley cat instead of the Beast of Deceit, Pure Vanilla moves close enough until their knees are barely touching.
Watching Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla asks, “Is there anything you want me to wash first?”
“My hair.” Shadow Milk answered hurriedly.
Pure Vanilla nods and adjusts to stand on his knees. Shadow Milk feels the healer’s steady stare, still waiting. Rolling his eyes and trying to relax his whole body, Shadow Milk moves his head forward and looks down.
A dry chuckle almost escaped Shadow Milk’s lips at the familiar position. Different circumstances, but familiar.
He did not even fight back, yet they grabbed and shoved him as if he were a struggling criminal. He tried not to cry out when they pulled his hair, forcing him to face down on the wooden floor.
Might as well get used to the sight, he quietly thought to himself, that would be the last thing he sees before the guillotine falls, and place the first scar given by those terrible, stupid, weak cookies who keep taking and accusing until they decide they’re the ones who had enough instead of him. How dare they? Why wasn’t he enough? What did he do to deserve this? When did they place him between the lunette? What was that sound—
“Shadow Milk,” Shadow Milk heads up, dismayed by Pure Vanilla’s distressed face. He could feel Pure Vanilla trying to decide his words carefully. He wanted to shout at him to just wash him already, but the change to a calm yet determined expression shuts him up.
“I know you won’t always tell me how you feel, and believe me when I say you don't owe me an explanation. But please,” Shadow Milk’s eyes widen at Pure Vanilla’s sincerity. “I want you to tell me to stop if I ever make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t do anything! I just—”
Vulnerability, to this extent, is something Shadow Milk could never afford. Whether as a Virtue or Beast, vulnerability means weakness, which can lead to never-ending exploitation. But Pure Vanilla’s constant patience, his acceptance of everything that is wrong with Shadow Milk, gives him the slimmest glimmer of hope that maybe, despite the scars…
“— have some bad memories.” Shadow Milk quietly admitted. Even that was all he could give, Pure Vanilla nod, not asking further.
Grabbing the shampoo again, Pure Vanilla squeezes it content. That was when Shadow Milk realized his hair was tensed, raised, and glaring at Pure Vanilla’s hands.
“May I?”
Shadow Milk nods his head.
Finally, Shadow Milk lets out a happy mumble when Pure Vanilla lightly rubs his scalp. With expertise, Pure Vanilla messaged Shadow Milk’s head, making sure to apply the shampoo into every corner of his scalp. Shadow Milk feels his hair relaxing and eyes closing, enjoying how those fingers meticulously comb through his hair. Soon, the tension calms down, but Shadow Milk is aware that there is a particular area Pure Vanilla avoids.
Lifting his hands, Shadow Milk grabs Pure Vanilla’s hands and places them on the nape of his neck.
Directly where the guillotine sliced his head clean off.
When the Ancient freezes, Shadow Milk muttered, “You forgot to apply shampoo here.”
Shadow Milk removes one of his hands, setting it on Pure Vanilla’s shoulder. Discerning Shadow Milk’s intentions, Pure Vanilla softly kneads his skin. Despite how close they are, having hands on the moment he truly lost faith in cookiekind, Shadow Milk could not help but loosen up.
“My people revolted against me.” Shadow Milk slips. Feeling Pure Vanilla stiffening, Shadow Milk glares at him before he could start with his needless apologetic tirades. Might as well explain before regret eats either of them up. “Gave those bastards a scare when my headless body stood up to grab my head.”
His laugh came out harsher than intended, stopping when Pure Vanilla cups the side of his face. Pure Vanilla doesn’t say anything.
Instead softly stares at Shadow Milk, at his broken, weeping soul, and nods at him. Faintly, he leans towards the touch, a slight shiver running down his spine as the healer’s fingers trace the scars on his neck.
Using the hand still placed on the Ancient’s own, the former Virtue moves it towards the vivisection on his torso.
“You haven’t washed here yet,” Shadow Milk muttered, “My hair is not the only one need tending to.”
“How could I forget?” Pure Vanilla mutters in return, removing his hand from Shadow Milk’s cheek to grab his favorite blueberry-scented soap. Lathering his hands, Pure Vanilla treats the skin on Shadow Milk’s upper body with as much care as he did with his hair.
Silence filled the room, ignoring the splashing of water and the bleating of the rubber cream sheep. Pure Vanilla took his sweet time scrubbing and massaging every tense area, every scar, with extreme precision and care expected from a healer of his caliber. Shadow Milk continued to observe how the same hands that hover over his skin when he restitched himself are now touching him.
Looking directly at Pure Vanilla’s eyes, Shadow Milk moved to push Pure Vanilla into a sitting position. Placing both his hands onto the Ancient’s shoulders, Shadow Milk quietly sits on top of Pure Vanilla’s lap, his gaze never moving away from its position.
The Beast sighs in approval as Pure Vanilla quickly places his hands on his waist, helping him get comfortable. He went this far, there is not much left to lose. “As you know, cookies spoil quickly after crumbling. There were not many healers at the time to make up for the stupidity and recklessness cookies had for danger. And as the former Fount of Knowledge,” Shadow Milk spat out the title, relaxing when Pure Vanilla gently pressed his thumbs into circles on his waist. “I had to…”
He doesn’t continue. Instead, he examines Pure Vanilla’s face. When Pure Vanilla’s eyes widen in understanding, Shadow Milk expects judgment or witches forbid pity, but it has been over thousands of years since he last placed a scalpel on himself.
As Pure Vanilla processes Shadow Milk’s confession, the blue cookie could identify much of how the vanillan cookie is feeling. Sorrow, grief, and anguish. That was to be expected, yet the final look he gave Shadow Milk was one of pure, unadulterated devotion.
“Thank you,” Shadow Milk’s breath hitched, not expecting the response. It felt too plain a reply, too short and lacking the theatrics one would expect, almost made Shadow Milk take offense. He is practically pouring his heart and wounds out for Pure Vanilla to dissect, and yet the old man replied to something so simple and clean as ‘Thank you’ was…
Maybe what he needed. The scars that mar his body will never disappear, no matter what he wears or when he shapeshifts. Complex spells do nothing, and the past makes his scars run even deeper. Even with all of this presented to Pure Vanilla, along with everything nasty about Shadow Milk that he has shown him, Pure Vanilla loves everything that makes Shadow Milk his bare self.
And is forever grateful for what Shadow Milk wishes to give him, or not, his unwavering patience, yet firm resolution to reach out to Shadow Milk and to follow him where he’s at.
“You’re such a silly, silly cookie.” Shadow Milk huffs out, bringing his face closer to Pure Vanilla’s. “I should drown you for your silliness.”
“Perhaps you should,” Pure Vanilla agrees, chuckling at the unamused pout Shadow Milk sends him. “But I believe you have other plans.”
“Nah,” their noses were now touching, Shadow Milk angling his face to the side. “The result is still the same.”
Pushing his hand on the back of Pure Vanilla’s head, Shadow Milk kisses the ancient. He feels Pure Vanilla smile into the kiss, wrapping the blue cookie around his waist to bring them closer. Unconsciously, Shadow Milk's hair wrapped itself around Pure Vanilla's arms, tangling in between his fingers.
They are both wet, their doughs becoming wrinkled from soaking under the water for too long, and the kiss tastes like a bitter combination of the soap and shampoo they used. Despite all that, Shadow Milk pulled Pure Vanilla even closer.
He wouldn't have such a kiss with his silly Nilly any other way.
After what felt like hours, they slowly pulled away. Shadow Milk felt a deep purple blush appear on his cheeks as Pure Vanilla looked at him with complete love and happiness.
“Wipe that lovesick look. We still need to wash all these suds off us.” When all he got was a giggle, Shadow Milk splashes water at the healer's face. Shadow Milk’s face turned brighter and starts weakly shouting at Pure Vanilla, the splash unable to wipe the adoring smile off his face.
“Of course, bluebird, of course.”
Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Notes:
its been a long looooong time since i have written smut. cant believe im doing it again for cookies. i hope i disappoint my ancestors further.
Chapter Text
Recently, Shadow Milk started wearing looser clothing when he and Pure Vanilla were alone.
Don’t get him wrong, he still loves his harlequin bodysuit very much and the rabbit onesie he wears when he sleeps with Pure Vanilla, but it would be a shame if all those silk and woolen clothes Pure Vanilla gifts collect dust in the closet.
“Hmm,” Shadow Milk sighs, tilting his head for easier access to Pure Vanilla’s kisses. Warm hands went under the hem of his shirt, nimble fingers pressing onto tense spots on his back.
Yeah, that’s definitely the reason.
Shadow Milk pulled Pure Vanilla closer, mewling as those hands grabbed him from behind. Shadow Milk allows Pure Vanilla to push him onto the bed, tongue lapping on the side of his neck. Feeling brave, he grinds his hips against Pure Vanilla’s.
Freezing, Shadow Milk shuddered at Pure Vanilla’s hitched breath. Shadow Milk would’ve laughed at Pure Vanilla’s sudden prudishness if it weren’t an actual oddity.
For as long as Shadow Milk was willing to admit that they are indeed dating, they have not engaged in any act of copulation. Pure Vanilla never pushed Shadow Milk’s boundaries during the night. Even after baring himself several times, the most they would do is passionate kisses and recently, cuddle with added skinship.
Pushing himself up, Shadow Milk whispers, “I want this, with you.”
Moving one hand to the back of Shadow Milk’s nape, Pure Vanilla brings Shadow Milk almost to a kiss.
“Promise me,” Pure Vanilla whispered softly. “That you will tell me to stop if you don’t want this anymore.”
Shadow Milk chuckles weakly, faltering when Pure Vanilla’s expression turned even more serious. “I’m not defenseless, Nilly. I can easily kick you off.”
“Shadow Milk…”
“Fine, fine, you worry wart. I swear on the incisions on my heart.”
Despite appearing worried about Shadow Milk’s phrasing, Pure Vanilla mouths into his lips. “I swear to take care of you.”
Shadow Milk burns with excitement as Pure Vanilla’s hungry lips devour his. Fast hands grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up. Saliva dripped onto the sheets as the healer rid the offending material.
Sharp claws clutched onto the sheets at the abrupt sensation of a warm, wet tongue licking his sensitive dough. Pure Vanilla proudly hums in appreciation with every flick of his tongue, his teeth lightly grazing over the jester’s chest, and heated kisses on tight sutures. Shadow Milk twists and keens, blue skin turning purple. The hot appendages were a sharp contrast to the coldness of his scars, heightening his sensitivity.
Hooking a finger underneath his underwear, Pure Vanilla briefly pulls himself away. Once Shadow Milk lies fully bare before him, he moves his face near the blue cookie’s throbbing cunt and breathes hot air into it.
Shadow Milk squeals, instinctively closing his thighs that were held in place by strong callous fingers. Pure Vanilla nips the plush of his thighs, then sucking hard on the folds of his open heat. Pure Vanilla kisses and licks the expecting cunt, a pool of slick starting to be formed beneath Shadow Milk.
“What are you, a cake hound—” Shadow Milk throws his head back when Pure Vanilla brings him even closer to his mouth. Choked sobs and gasps echoed in the room. Pure Vanilla’s eager tongue laps against his arousal, drinking up every slick dripping from Shadow Milk’s quivering walls. His ears twitched and turned bright purple as loud squelching sounds echoed in the bedroom, embarrassing wet sounds coming from him.
I might actually lose my head from this. Shadow Milk thought absentmindedly. Despite instinctively twisting the bed sheets to escape Pure Vanilla’s teasing, his traitorous hair, full of wide heart-shaped pupils, grabbed the excited healer by his arms, encouraging him to slobber up every drop. Their grip on him is tightening when Pure Vanilla licks a strip across the folds of his cunt before sucking on his throbbing clit.
Shadow Milk bites into the blanket when a calloused finger traces a line over the sensitive dough covering his entrance before pressing deeply into him. Pure Vanilla hums in appreciation as plush thighs squeeze him. Pure Vanilla happily licks into his bud before lightly pulling it with his teeth.
Letting out a shrilled scream, Shadow Milk came. He tries to breathe in as much air, his gasps becoming high-pitched squeaks when felt arousal returns as quickly as it left his body. Shuddering under Pure Vanilla’s ministrations, Shadow Milk turned his head to wetly glare at the healer. Pure Vanilla, the smug bastard, let go of his poor clit to smile back. Shadow Milk’s hackles raised at the sight before him. Sopping wet, with slick dripping from the corners of Pure Vanilla’s lips and chin.
“Yes, bluebird?” Pure Vanilla asks, smile remaining even as those plush thighs are now attempting to strangle him. Shadow Milk’s hazy head has half the mind to choke Pure Vanilla.
Instead, he cries out when Pure Vanilla slips a second finger inside, those wretched digits massaging and rubbing spots that made him see stars. Carefully maneuvering himself forward and ensuring his fingers are spreading his beloved jester wide and open, Pure Vanilla wrapped his free arm under Shadow Milk’s arching back to bring him closer. Shadow Milk scrambled at the sudden change of position, his arms immediately clinging onto Pure Vanilla’s shoulders.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” Pure Vanilla mouths into his neck, biting just under his jaw. He wrapped his arm tighter around Shadow Milk, allowing him to play with the Beast’s nipple. Pure Vanilla continues to sink his teeth into the dough of Shadow Milk’s neck and collarbone, making sure to bite hard enough to leave possessive marks but not to bleed.
“I’m such a lucky cookie to have you like this.” The fingers thrusting inside Shadow Milk’s wet heat became three, a thumb toying his clit in the rhythm of the thrusts. “I am so, so grateful for allowing me to share this moment with you.” Soon, the fingers on his breast pinched and flickered his nipple. Shadow Milk lets out a loud cry, body trembling heavily from the dual stimulation. “Everything you’re willing to share with me, I swear to cherish it.”
Feeling his heavy stare, Shadow Milk tearfully faces Pure Vanilla. He wanted to turn away, hesitant on how to react to the love-filled gaze Pure Vanilla was giving. All he could do was let Pure Vanilla do what he wants with him, so unsure and unused to having this much care be given to him. His insides coiled under the intense heat that was quickly spreading everywhere until his head went heavy and his cunt grasped around the Ancient’s skillful finger into a vice grip before he—
Shadow Milk shrieked in despair when those fingers pulled just before he could come. “H-How… dare you.” He pitifully snarls, and the eyes on his hair unanimously glare at Pure Vanilla. Pure Vanilla almost felt bad if it weren’t for all those eyes still being heart-shaped.
As an apology, Pure Vanilla kisses him. Shadow Milk grumbled but returned the action with much fervor. Shadow Milk lightly bites into Pure Vanilla’s lip in retaliation, earning a groan from the cookie on top of him. As the kiss intensifies and more drool drips down to the side of Shadow Milk’s chin, Pure Vanilla shifts him into a lying position. Placing a peck on Shadow Milk’s lips, Pure Vanilla gives appreciative kisses as he descends downward. From where his head is attached to his neck, to mark where his heart is, and eventually below his navel, Pure Vanilla adorned his scars with so much love that Shadow Milk swore he could bleed from how overwhelming it is.
“Please,” Shadow Milk is not sure what he was begging for, what exactly he wanted. All he knows is that he needs whatever Pure Vanilla gives him. He needs it so badly, and he felt so foolish for not even being sure what he’s asking.
“Please.”
Pure Vanilla, bless his overly benevolent heart, continues. He places himself between Shadow Milk’s legs, one hand on his waist, the other around his cock. Shadow Milk’s hungry eyes followed Pure Vanilla’s action, anxious and excited as he senses the head of Pure Vanilla’s cock at his expecting entrance. Slowly, Pure Vanilla pushes himself inside. Shadow Milk whimpered at the stretch, his heart racing faster with every inch burying itself within him. Despite the foreign aches and unfamiliar sensations, his arousal clenches in want.
“Look at you, taking it so well.” Pure Vanilla praises shakily, his teeth gritting. Shadow Milk knows Pure Vanilla is desperately controlling himself, watching his every expression. Not trusting his own words, Shadow Milk hooks his legs around Pure Vanilla’s waist, lightly kicking him with his ankles to urge him to go deeper.
Eventually, and mind-numbingly, Pure Vanilla finally bottoms out with a loud gasp. Even with the tears falling from his eyes and his head becoming hazy, the eyes on his hair noticed a little detail that caused even more slick to gush out.
“L-Look, Nilly.” Shadow Milk laughs weakly, barely able to force himself up. He grasps Pure Vanilla’s free hand and places it over just below his navel, where a small bump is. “Y-You’re so… so deep inside me.” He moans as the bump is pressed on, responding with a full-bodied tremor.
It feels weird, being overcome with such arousal and incoherence. He normally does not like looking at his torso bare, finding past weakness. But something that should humiliate him, a cock deep inside that it caused his mind to short-circuit with how unfairly hot he finds having his guts literally rearranged.
“I-I… I’m so happy.” He pulls the hand towards him, until his and Pure Vanilla’s chests crash into each other, and Pure Vanilla has to quickly place the hand on his waist to the side of Shadow Milk’s body so as not to squash him. Pure Vanilla’s wide eyes look into his. “It’s w-with you… I… trust you so much.”
Shadow Milk makes a strangled noise when Pure Vanilla pulls his cock back, the head barely inside, before slamming back in. Feeling how wet and hungry his beloved is, Pure Vanilla sets a slow but deep rhythm. The pace allowed Shadow Milk to feel every vein, how Pure Vanilla’s cock is pulsing inside him as it irreversibly ruins him.
Shadow Milk silently screams when Pure Vanilla snaps his hips into him even faster. Wanton squeaks and wet pants were the only sounds he was capable of making, the pitch becoming higher when Pure Vanilla bites the edge of his trembling ear.
“I love you.” Pure Vanilla confessed, pressing a loving kiss. Pure Vanilla kisses his tear-stained cheeks, leaving a trail as he follows the tears.
Shadow Milk sobbed, wrapping his arms around Pure Vanilla. Pure Vanilla continued kissing his neck fervently.
“I love you so much.”
Shadow Milk swore he saw stars scattered across Pure Vanilla’s adoring face. The sheer happiness he sees from Pure Vanilla could rival even the brightest constellations. He wants to be closer to that burning heat before either of them bursts.
He tugs Pure Vanilla back to his lips, uncaring that the clashing of teeth caused jam to ooze in his mouth. He just needs more of Pure Vanilla. He shamelessly moans into the healer’s mouth as he’s pressed deeper into the bed, a hand wrapping under his head to deepen the kiss.
His pace stuttering and losing its rhythm, Pure Vanilla’s cock begins to throb inside Shadow Milk’s convulsing walls. Removing his hand from the rising and falling bugle, Pure Vanilla twists and pinches Shadow Milk’s clit. With a final and desperate wail, Shadow Milk squirts all over his and Pure Vanilla's thighs. With a loud gasp and rocking the least shuddering thrusts, Pure Vanilla comes deeply within Shadow Milk. White cum paints every corner inside the Beast, causing the bump to swell more in size and mix with the slick beneath them.
They pulled away from each other, hot breaths fanning their faces. Slowly opening his eyes that he didn’t remember closing, he looked at Pure Vanilla. Gone was the calm and composed ruler. His hair was a mess, sweat dripping all over his face, and his voice becoming rough and winded.
Shadow Milk is rather proud of himself. Still high from his orgasm, Shadow Milk uses his hair to bring himself close enough to Pure Vanilla’s face.
“Thank you.” He whispers. Before Pure Vanilla could respond, Shadow Milk shushes him with a kiss.
“Never touch me again.” Shadow Milk growls, hackles rising as Pure Vanilla hugs him closer towards his chest.
When Pure Vanilla places a teasing bite as he nuzzles into his neck, Shadow Milk tries to pull away. But his traitorous, too honest hair grips onto the Ancient, gleeful heart-shaped pupils coiling around the healer’s limbs.
“Let us enjoy our bath, bluebird.” Pure Vanilla mumbles into his nape, breathing in the blueberry-scented soap he lathered onto Shadow Milk earlier.
Realizing that he can not escape Pure Vanilla’s strong hold, Shadow Milk lies on Pure Vanilla’s chest. Despite his many complaints and barely swatting away Pure Vanilla’s insistent kisses, Shadow Milk, for the first time, felt amicable with his own skin. He relaxes into Pure Vanilla’s touch, feeling a sense of tension being relieved.
It will always be there, but maybe one day, he could see them from another perspective. But for now, he lets Pure Vanilla fill in the gaps and soothe the aches he thought were long gone.