#happy ending mega post | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thisisxli · 6 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝. - 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑.

Rs: Prince Sukuna x Cinderella Reader

Warnings: none other than your bitch step-mother and step-sisters. And Mahito! Slight curse words

Tags: Cinderella AU

Summary: After your father died, your step-family has forced you into becoming their scullery maid. What if there was something or someone that was a one time in a life chance that could change your way of living? Of course, Prince Sukuna.

Wc: 10.2k

A/N: mostly proofread, ignore any mistakes I've made! A lot of monologue and scenes from the 1950s Cinderella movie and a few from the 2015 one.

Gojo clears his throat, opening the book as mice and a few more animals crowd around him. "Once upon a time.." Gojo looks up, thinking to himself for a moment before nodding, averting his blue eyes back into the book, "a life passes and a life begins anew, when poor little (Y/N) worked as a scullery maid..."

"Prince Sukuna," the Duchess speaks. Sukuna smirks as he fences with his partner in front of him before quickly dodging their fence, his own fence easily making way to his partner's body. "Prince Sukuna," the Duchess speaks once again except more firmly, a few butlers coming up to stand next to them. "Prince Sukuna-" "nice job out there," Sukuna's smirk widens when he takes off his eepe mask, high-fiving his fencing partner.

"Prince Sukuna!!-" "What, Uraume!??!" Sukuna turns to his Duchess with visible annoyance shown on his face, his posture starting to droop. "Can't you see I'm busy here? If my father needs something, he can do it himself," Sukuna spits, pulling his mask down and getting into a stance to fence. Uraume's face quickly drops to a face of aggravation as she rolls her eyes before turning stoic, "what your father requests of you is to be wedded with a wife in hand." Sukuna stiffens as his fencing partner gets the opening, hitting him in the chest with the tip of the sword. "H-hey! I did it! I did it guys! 1 to 29! Hey....!" Heads turn to Sukuna's fencing partner when his voice starts to trail off, meeting the glowing eyes of Sukuna through the mask. Sukuna sighs before taking off his whole entire head piece, throwing his fencing sword to the ground. "He wants me to marry," he turns to Uruame, deadpanning. Uruame nods and starts to bow, "he suggests you come up with who you wish to wed." Sukuna groans as a hand drags down his face, his face tattoos scrunching along with his grimacing wrinkles. He thinks for a moment. A wife? Maybe it is about time. "So..." He starts, peaking people's interest. He knows when they slowly turn to a stop in fencing. "Would that get me some pussy?"

His fencing partner starts to snicker along with other fencers, a few chuckling in the back. Uruame sucks in her lips behind her teeth, biting down. She bows down again before walking away, waving to the butlers to stay there with him. "I don't get paid enough for this.." She mutters as she adjusts her monocle.

Sukuna sits in his bed with a black silk robe wrapped around his body, his pecs slightly exposed. His arms loosely hung around two girls who were laying at his sides that were wearing slightly revealing clothes. Sukuna turns his head when he hears a knock at the door, sighing, "come in." Uruame glides into the enormous room along with Sukuna's father following close behind her. Sukuna nearly chokes on his own spit, retracting his arms from the girls beside him and putting his hands in his own lap. Sukuna slightly frowns when his father looks around in the room, "father." The king looks back at his son for a moment before continuing to speculate the room, "Sukuna." Sukuna clicks his tongue, roughly tapping the two females at his sides. They quickly move off the bed and out the room.

"What's this nonsense about me getting married? I'm only 24, damn it-" Sukuna's eyes widen when he gets cut off by a slam on the table. He meets his father's death stare, not too short to make a death stare of his own. His father falters for a second before letting out a boisterous laugh, opening his arms. "My, my, you have grown, son!" Sukuna chuckles and gets off the bed to meet his father, hugging him and patting each other's backs roughly. Uruame just watches silently, blinking at the two. "You are soon to be wed! You're a man, for gods sake. You will take my place as king," he walks up to the large balcony along side Sukuna, looking at him, "and maybe even create your own heir." His father raises his brows in suggestion as Sukuna snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Sure, maybe," he smirks, looking over to his father, "I'd just have to find the right one." Sukuna ponders for a moment, looking off to the city that dimly illuminated both their faces. "But how?"

They both think for a moment with their chin pinched by their fingers as Uruame speaks up, tired of the two, "we could throw a ball." They both look back at Uruame and then back at each other before letting out the same rich laugh. Uruame nearly backs out before having her back pat roughly by the king. "That's a tremendous idea! We'll have the servants set up everything in the ball room and have Uruame send out the invitations to every woman in the city!" Sukuna grins as he pats his old man's back, his Duchess mentally sliding a hand down her face. "Soon.. You'll take over everything."

As said and done, servants set up the ballroom that was themed in a deep red with gold encasing the walls and pillars in designs, beautiful diamond chandeliers hang from the ceilings and tall candles light up the room along with the paintings of bloody naked women. Large drapes hang loosely around the King's chair, half-naked women clinging to his legs and sides.

Uruame appears in front of the short stair case, bowing on one knee. "Has the invitation spread throughout the city?" The King slightly smirks, pushing his fingertips together and leans forward. "Yes, my Sire. Every maiden has received an invitation," she pauses, looking up as she smirks, "everything is going according to plan, Sire." The King chuckles in amusement as he waves over a servant, whispering in her ear before sending her off to fetch Sukuna. "Well then," he stands up, arms open, his Royal mantle falling back from his shoulders. "It starts tomorrow night," he grins as the women below him slightly cower in fear, some clinging onto his pants.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead with your arm before clipping wet clothes and dress onto the hanging rope, small dirt and rubble covering parts of your work dress. When all the clothes were hanged, you set a empty basket near the wall and walk over to your Airdelle Terrier, Shoko. The brown thin-furred dog whines in delight when you scratch behind her ears, giggling when she thumps her leg on the ground. She pants as you feed her a treat, walking off with three little mic trailing behind you. Your other dog slept soundly next to Shoko, your Afghan Hound named Nanami. Your horse, Geto, neighs when he sees you. You giggle and wave.

You quickly come to a stop to look down at the three mice following you that bump into the back of your heel. Yuji, following Nobara, and Megumi. "Aw, I didn't know you guys were following me," you sweetly say before scooping them up and dropping them in the pocket of your apron. You enter through a back door of the château, a bell violently ringing against the wall. "(N/N)!! mop the floor downstairs!" The three mice covers their ears in annoyance, Yuji, the one in the red shirt poking out the pocket with a fist curled in the air. He gets shoved back in when Megumi, the one in a dark blue shirt, pushes his head down. You sigh before getting a bucket near the fireplace and fill it up with soap and water, grabbing a towel along the way. You head over to the main room, watching as one of your step-sisters, Yorozu, step up the stairs with dirty heels. She smirks as she slides her feet out of them at the top of the staircase and picks them up, huffing in pettiness before carefully carry her heels within arms reach from her dress, walking away to the shared room with her sister. You sigh when you hear the door shut, quickly dipping the towel in the bucket and start to scrub the floor. The mice jump out your apron's pocket and slides across the slippery floor with small bubbles following closely behind them.

Mahito, the cat, peers from behind the staircase, eyes slitting into lines when he sees the three mice scattering across the floor, struggling to get up.

"Itadori! Get up!" Megumi shouts, his round ears twitching. Yuji fails to do so, slipping before making Nobara slip on her own two little feet, falling back as her bottom half hangs over her face. Her tail wiggles in aggravation as she takes a quick hit on Yuji's head, a 'bonk' sound being heard from the mouse's head. A red bump appears over his pink and black ombre fur. "Ow! I'm trying, Fushiguro! Woah, woah, woah! Hey- look out!" Yuji's small clawed finger points to the now scurrying cat headed their way, all mice's feet skedaddling on the floor. The cat's face meets the wall, his fur standing up from all over at the impact. Yuji snickers before moving on all fours, the blue cat charging at the mouse. Yuji and Mahito slip across the floor, Mahito's claws missing barely an inch on Yuji. Mahito had a thick coat that had a natural baby blue color along with a creamy white color spotting over his paws, nose, and stomach. Dark colors etch on his fur on the back, resembling lines of stitches. Nobara, the mouse that was in a small pink work dress like you, stood on top of a table. Mahito creeps under it, trying to catch the movement of anything. She squeaks when she uses all her might to push a heavy book off the table. Mahito looks up just as it lands in his face, yowling as his paws clutches his face. All three mice scurry through a hole in the wall, closing their small door as you make way towards the cat with a confused expression.

"Mahito, what are you doing down here? You're getting your dirty paws all over the place," you sigh as you pick up the book and set it back on the table, a small frown on your features as you watch the cat walk up the stairs, an unknowing scowl on its' face. You make your way back to your bucket of soap and water, picking up the towel and wiping what stain or streak was on the floor.

The main doors open causing you to turn your head, meeting the eyes of your step-mother. She had a black short bob with a stitch lined across her forehead, a sun hat covered in dark red roses wrapped in a ribbon that was a color of an eggplant. She rolled her eyes at you before opening her mouth to speak, "Yorozu! MeiMei!" Her voice was sickeningly sweet, a hand was cupped next to her mouth, her other holding a envelope and a fan. Both tall women hurry down the stairs, their thick dresses bouncing with each step down the stairs, their hind parts thickened and round in the dress. "Yes, mother," they both say in unison, one's large silver haired braid hanging over their face and the other with a tie up, black spiky hair sprawling out on all sides, a few hair strands resting at the sides of her face. They both bow politely, all three women ignoring your presence.

"Guess who's throwing a ball tomorrow night, girls?" Both step-sisters look at their mother in shock before turning to each other, squealing as they hold each other's hands, jumping in excitement, their dresses bouncing with them. "He's looking for a wife," she explains, a glint in her eye. Both girls squeal even louder, Yorozu balling her dress into her hands. "He'll marry me!" Yorozu claims boldly before having her sister push her shoulder, her braid swaying with every turn of her head, "no, he'll marry me! What are you on, sister?" The girls inch closer to each other's faces as their bickering echoes throughout the room, quickly shutting up when their mother's staff hits the ground. Your step-mother clears her throat, firmly pursing her lips as she explains again, "you both will dress your best. We'll all live in the castle if one of you are able to be wedded." Both of the girls giggle just before you speak up, "step-mother Kenjaku.. May I be able to attend the ball?" The room goes silent as they all turn to your figure, piercing eyes staring daggers into your soul just as they all burst into laughter in unison, your form shrinking and faltering by their boisterous laugh. "Now let's see.." Your step-mother taps her purple-colored fingernails around the ball on her staff, eyes wandering around the ceiling of the room. "If you are able to scrub every corner and edge, clean each of our rooms, and manage to get a dress.." She pauses, jaw pushed to the side for a second, "you're able to attend the ball with us," she seethes with sarcasm, emphasizing with the word 'us.'

You urgently nod your head, bowing at waist-level. "Now then, girls get ready for dinner. (Y/N), prepare the dinner," your step-mother waves her hand at the three of you, all obediently listening to her orders.

"Chop, chop, boys!" Nobara squeaks out to Yuji and Megumi who were cutting and sewing through pink fabric, three other birds working on the bows. One female that had raven colored feathers, the other having silver feathers, and the third having two shades overlapping each other, black and white. A mice, Choso, helps his brother Yuji and have him stand on his shoulders. The raven feathered bird chirps happily when another bird joins in, being quite small compared to her. "Yuta! I'm so glad you could make it," the female bird chirps, watching the smaller bird land on the desk. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Maki," Yuta chirped back, flapping his wings in greeting.

"Gosh, I can't believe I'm stuck with you two," Megumi murmurs, dragging a clawed hand down and over his snout. Yuji blows a raspberry at him before jumping off the desk, sewing the fabric shut. Nobara finishes it with a bite to the string, the rest of it falling loosely to the floor as Yuji scurried his little feet to the desk. Yuta and Maki work their way to raise the dress up high as Panda places a bow in the center of the neckline when Megumi places a turquoise pearl bead necklace around it, small cheers and squeaks erupting from every mouse at the finishing touch. Inumaki flies to your door, hearing your footsteps come up the stairs.

"Mealworms!" Inumaki chirps to the others. Panda sighs before flapping his wings in alarm for the mouses as he translates, "she's coming!"

It was almost sun-down and you were trembling out of your wits end, your body tired and overworked. You open the door to your room, your face twisting into a face of surprise at the sight. "W-woah!" "Surprise!" Mice jumped up from behind large objects, birds flying into your room as you analyze your new dress. It was a simple but beautiful dress to you, you could only stare at it in awe as you touch it and let it fall from up ur fingers. You start to squeal in delight, carefully taking the dress in your arms, hugging it tightly as you danced around the room. "Thank you! Thank you to you all, thank you so much!"

"I have to show step-mother this," you exclaimed as you went behind the paper folding screen, birds flying over to help remove your clothes. The dress easily slides over your figure, hugging yourself as you hurriedly did your hair just the way you wanted it with a pink bow at the back.

Your step-mother and step-sisters descend the stairs as they both pat their faces in dry powder, the back of their dresses bouncing each time they took a step. "Now when you're presented to his highness, be sure-" Just as they were about to leave, you quickly step down the stairs, a hand up in the air, "wait!" They all look back, gasping audibly when they see you in a dress. As you leave the staircase, you immediately twirl before politely bowing. "Isn't it lovely? Do you like it? Do you think it will do?" Yorozu and Mei step back, absolutely astounded. Yorozu had her hair down with a dark pink dress, Mei's hair was half-down and half-up, wearing a vibrant yellow dress. "N/N!!" "Mother she can't-" "oh no!" "You can't let her-" "GIRLS, please," your step-mother holds a hand up at both of them, holding a stern look. She quickly puts on a smile on her face, looking back and forth between her daughters. "After all, we did make a bargain," she looks up to you, "didn't we, (Y/N)?" You only grin in response before having it slowly fade as she steps up closer to you. "And I never go back on my word. Hmm, how very clever. These beads.. They give it just the right touch, don't you think so, MeiMei?"

Mei turns away as she huffs, "no I don't, I think she's-" Mei's eyes are quick to open, turning back to your beautiful form. She ghastly gasps, her face twisting in anger, "oh! Why you little thief!" She stomps her feet under her dress. "They're my beads! Give them here," she demands before ripping them off of your neck before quickly hearing Yorozu pop in, "oh and look! That's my sash! She's wearing my sash!" You stand there in distraught, panicking as your gaze switches to both the girls as they start to rip apart your dress. You plead as they rip off the ribbons and fabric, feeling their breath against your cheek when they get into your face to yell. "Girls! Girls... That's quite enough," your step-mother scoffs before opening the door, "hurry along now, both of you."

They both walk out the door, holding their dresses between their thumb and index fingers with their hind parts bouncing behind them. You look down at the ripped pieces of your dress on the marble floor, looking up at your step-mother looking down at you with a smirk. "Goodnight," she says one last time, closing the door behind her, leaving you alone in the château. You raise your hands to your eyes as you cry out, running out of the house and to a bench where your mother once sat at.

Hot tears go spilling from your eyes, hands clutching onto the seat and your dress. You weep as you speak out, "no, it isn't true." You sob, hiccuping as mice and other animals you know come to gather to watch you. "It's just no use, no use at all," you whimper to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, "I can't believe. No, not anymore. There's nothing else to believe in.. nothing."

"Nothing, my dear?" A voice speaks out as you continue to weep. "Now you don't really believe that-" "oh, but I do-" "nonsense sweetheart! If you lost all your faith, I couldn't be here," the voice speaks, soft tender hands holding onto your arms. A hand slides to your chin, your head lifting to see the face of the voice. You gasp when you see a pale man with white hair, blue eyes glowing in the dark. "And here I am," he exclaims, smirking when you nearly fall back before holding your arms gently, lifting you up to stand. "Oh come now, dry those tears," he wipes your tears away with his thumbs, "I don't know what to do when girls cry in front of me. You can't go to the ball looking like that anyway."

"Oh! But- but I'm not-" "of course you are, but we do have to hurry," he chuckles, sliding his fingers through his hair. "Even miracles take time," he rolls up his sleeves, closing his eyes. "Miracles?" He nods, humming in response, "just watch," he smirks just as he attempts to pull out a wand confidently, nothing coming out and appearing on his hand. He blinks at his hand, blushing in embarrassment. "Oops, mistake there. Shit- what did I do with my wand? I was sure..." He bends over to look under the bench and inside his cloak as you peer over him in amusement, "a wand? You must be.." "Your fairy godfather? Why yes, of course. Always been here. And before you ask, I swear I'm not that old- oh! Never mind, I just remembered- I put it away," he smugly says, turning to you with raised brows, his fingers pinched as he lines it down in the air, a wand appearing through the pinch of his fingers. You're taken aback when you see this, your feet shuffling on the floor as you step back.

"Fushiguro! Did'ya see that?!" Yuji exclaims in bewilderment, shaking the shoulders of his best friend. "Yeah.. Yeah, I did," he grumbles, whiskers twitching in annoyance. "How'd he do it?!" Other mice exclaim as Choso pries Yuji off his friend. "Now let's look here.. First thing we need is.. Well, to.. a pumpkin! Yeah-" your godfather points his wand to a fresh grown-out pumpkin in the garden, sparkling magic carrying the pumpkin over. You watch in amazement, hearing him mutter words. "What are you saying? What's your name?" Your godfather looks back at you before chuckling, rubbing a hand at the back of his head. "I'm chanting some magic words but it's a little embarrassing for a man like me to say. Name's Gojo Satoru for you!" You nod feverishly, watching as the pumpkin floats its' way over. Vines grow and starts to curl in itself, the pumpkin growing larger with each chant that comes out of Gojo's mouth. The pumpkin changes its' color.. turning white... it's a carriage? It's a carriage! "Isn't it wonderful?" Gojo turns to you in his flirtatious voice, leaning his weight on one hip as he raises a brow at you.

You giggle, ghosting your hands over the wheel of the large carriage, "it's beautiful," you breathe. "Yes, yes it is. With a elegant coach like that of course- we'll have to.... get mice!" He points down to four mice on the floor, Yuji, Choso, Megumi, and Nobara. Your horse, Geto, stomps his hoove on the ground in offense. "We'll have a coach when we're through. Now let's see here- bibbidi bibbidi boo," he whispers, waving the wand at the four mice that turn into large beautiful stallions. "Ah, now see- that's great. You can't go without a horse!"

You tilt your head at him in confusion, "another one?" You ponder, watching him shake his head and chuckle. "It'll be a change- he'll handle the reins instead," he pets your horse before even more sparkling magic carry Geto, turning Geto into a tall grown man that was... quite attractive. He gets sat in the driver's seat, reins in his hold. He blinks before looking down at himself, then at you. You shrug before blushing, watching him start to smile at you. "He'll be a coachman. And another thing.. The finishing touch! You!" You await for the magic to connect with your skin but nothing tingling comes. You open your eyes to see your dog, Shoko, being carried through the air. She was then transformed into a beautiful girl with a brown bob.

"She'll be the footman," he puffs out his chest pridefully, closing his eyes at his work. "Now, go ahead- hop in because we don't have much time," he bats an eye at you, "I know, I know, don't thank me-" you deadpan at him, pouting. "I wasn't.. Well, I mean- I am thankful! But.. My dress.. Don't you think it's..?"

"Hm?" He turns around to fully take a look at you, gasping in horror when he takes a look at your dress. You deadpan at him again. Did he seriously not notice? "Oh good heavens, no. You sweetie, are not going to the ball looking like that, " he mutters, eyeing your dress up and down. He quickly walks over to you, bending down to measure you with his wand. Your face becomes hot when the attractive man gets close to you, wand pressing against your side. He hums before backing up to create a certain amount of distance, chanting again as the same magic before circles around you, your dress quickly puffing into a poofy light-blue dress. It sparkled under the moon light, puffed out sleeves hugging your shoulders as gloves the same color as your dress were worn by your hands.

You twirl around, hands clutching the sides of your dress as your feet drags you across the floor. "Have you ever seen such a beautiful dress? I even have glass slippers!" You sighed happily, seeing Shoko's head nod quickly as she eyed your dress with a sparkle in her eye. You twirl your way to Geto, a toothy grin on your face as his cheeks turned pink. "M-miss (Y/N)! You're beautiful," he breathes, eyes kept on you as you bow at him and twirl your way towards your godfather who was smiling fondly at you.

"It's like a dream, godfather Gojo-" "please," he raises a hand up before taking your gloved hand in his own, "call me Satoru, sweetheart." You giggle as you twirl away, wrapped in the moment. His smile slightly drops as he taps the tip of his wand against his chin, cocking a brow at you in concern. "Jus' letting you know, like all dreams, this won't last forever. You'll only have until midnight.. And then.."

"Yes, yes, midnight- thank you," you grin, swaying your dress as you stare at your reflection in the water. "Hey now- just wait a minute. You must understand, sweetheart, that at the stroke of midnight, all of this," he draws a circle with his wand, gesturing to every object and being he used magic on, "will go back to the way it was before, d'ya hear me?"

You nod before quickly running to him, taking his hands and holding it to your chest, Gojo's cheeks slightly pink at the unexpected action. "I understand.. but it's anything I could ever hope for," you breathe, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek, your glass heels giving you leverage. "Ah.. Yeah.. Well ah! Goodness shit- it's getting late, you ought to go," he ushers you off, gently shoving you in the carriage, "the ball can't wait." You quickly adjust to the seat as the door closes, the carriage already being sent off in the dirt road. "Remember, sweetheart! Stroke of midnight!" You stick your head out the door window, smiling when you see his figure slowly fade in a sparkle of magic.

"Mademoiselles Mei Kenjaku and Yorozu Kenjaku, daughters of Lady Kenjaku."

Sukuna's eye peak interest when he sees Yorozu, a small smirk on his lips. He does nothing of the matter though, and just bows as they bow at him, eyes lingering on his figure. Sukuna's father sighs from the stands, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disapproval. "Y'know sire, I did try to warn you about the prince. He's not interested in any of this and you are a hopeless romantic," Uruame speaks through his sighs and groans, a gloved hand rubbing his forehead.

"There's no doubt when he just bows and right when he suddenly stops and looks up,"

Sukuna raises his head, his whole body stiffening when he sees you, his heart stuttering. "And there, she stands. The girl of his dreams. Who she is or whence she came from, he does not know nor does he care," Uruame speaks away as Sukuna's father notices Sukuna's sudden change in behaviour. Sukuna rushes past Yorozu and Mei, making his way towards your wandering and curious figure. "His heart tells him that here," Sukuna grabs ahold of your hand, only for you to be quick to draw back, "here is the maid that is predestined to be his bride." Sukuna is quick to bow down before you just as you do after him. Uruame lightly chuckles, rubbing her monocle against her suit as the King blinks at the scene of his son and your beautiful form below. "A pretty plot for fairy tails, sire. But in real life, oh no. It was fore doomed to failure-" she quickly gets cut off when the King locks her head with his arm, his gloved knuckles rubbing against her scalp. "Failure, huh? Then take a look at this, you damn pompous hag!" He quickly shoves her down, along with her monocle to watch the two youngsters interact.

Sukuna kisses your hand gently before looking up at you with his red gleaming eyes, ones that were so opposite from Gojo's. It kind of scared you. His eyes almost held possessiveness and so many dark things behind, eyes more piercing and slit than Gojo's who seemed much more kinder and seemed to have good-will. As scary as it was, his eyes also told you he had a sense of security and protection. It almost made you weak in the knees.

"Your highness, it would be an honor. May I take your hand?" His deep voice rumbles in the air, cold air puffing out your mouth as you stare at him in slight surprise. A smile slowly spreads onto your face as you take your hand in his, guiding you into the ball room. Sukuna was nearly gonna shit his pants. He thought you were so fucking beautiful, he didn't know what to say. "You look amazing tonight," he gestures towards your dress, gently squeezing your hand. You blush and cover over your mouth with a hand as you both walk over to the ballroom, starting to gain the eyes of other maidens.

"Who is she? Do you know her?" The King exclaims, peering down with Uruame's monocle. "No, Sire. I've never seen her before," Uruame shakes her head and peers down with him, invested in the sight of Sukuna in the hand of a woman. "Well that's one thing in her favor- shit, they're coming over here," the King quickly turns to gesture to the musicians, hands waving at them, "the waltz! Do the goddamn waltz!"

"Dim the lights!" The King nearly falls over the edge, Uruame's face turning red and round as a tomato as she struggles to keep him up.

"Huh?" Sukuna looks around before looking back at you, his heart nearly melting at the sight of the eye contact. "I guess this is where we should dance," you joke lightly, his hand wrapping around your waist as the other continues to squeeze your hand gently but firmly. He chuckles at your comment, gazing down at you. "You're funny," he remarks, swaying you back and forth as you pick up your dress.

You grin up at him as the music carries you both, lost in each other's gaze. Maidens stare at you both in jealousy and hate, others' heart crumbling at the sight. Some are even happy.

"If anything goes wrong," the King cuts off before sliding his thumb across his neck just as he disappears behind the curtains, leaving Uruame dumbfounded and in charge.

"Mother," Mei whispers in an aggravated voice, clinging to her mother's side. "Mother, who is that," Yorozu growls, twisting her foot into the ground. Your step-mother stares at you and Sukuna from afar, brows raised as her eyes held a jealous glint in them.

"Do we know her?" "Well the prince certainly seems to- but I know I've never seen her-" your step-mother cuts them off with a wave, "nor I, but she's certainly is- wait.. There is something familiar about her," your step-mother's eyes follow you and Sukuna, her own feet moving to inspect your familiar figure. You and Sukuna dance your way out the ballroom elegantly just as your step-mother tries to take a good look, curtains being closed in her face. "Oh my," she embarrassingly looks around, a hand placed on her chest before turning to the sound of another voice, "ahem." There stood Uruame, cocking a brow at her before rubbing her monocle against her suit.

You hum a tune as you both dance, staring into each other's eyes as the night carries you both away. For Sukuna, it felt like it had been a very long time since his heart started to beat. And when he looked into your eyes, it was like seeing the stars. It was in that moment that Sukuna decided that you were to be the one made into his wife.

You two are both met with stairs and that's when you decide to disconnect from each other, your gloved hand and waist savoring the warmth his hands once left you. "So, are you a princess?" Sukuna looks at you as you sputter, nearly choking on your words, a hand waving at your face as you blush. "Ah- no.. I'm merely.. just a girl that lives in a chateau resided in the city," you smile, tucking a few hair strands behind your ear. "Are you.. Are you a prince?"

Sukuna stiffens in surprise, scratching his head, "well.. I'm the prince that's asking for wife," he slightly smirks when he sees your shocked face. "You- you're the prince?! The prince?!" Sukuna laughs, bowing politely at you. "I'm not exactly the prince, I'm just a prince. But I mean, hey," he looks down at you, eyeing you up and down, "I'm the best prince of all there is." You stifle a chuckle, snorting as you turn away to dab away your tears, "he's so corny," you whisper to yourself. But that didn't go unheard by Sukuna that makes a face. "I'd ought to have your head chopped for that, beautiful," Sukuna looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye, smirking when your smile slightly falters. You scoff as you turn your head away, waving your hand at him and completely ignoring what he said. "If you must," you shrug, making your way to a fountain.

You were definitely the one. He chuckles before walking beside you, gazing down at the reflection of both of you. You were an amazing sight to behold, like a newly-bloomed flower covered in a frost of snow. He sees you turn to him, getting the chance to look up at you.

You both inch closer, lips lightly brushing at the tips and ghosting over each other. His hand slides over to your waist, gently rubbing up and down your sides that made you shudder. Your eyes quickly open. Just before he got any closer, you step away far enough that your lips was out of reach. "What time is it?" You bite your lip just as Sukuna makes a confused face, turning to look behind him. "It's currently 11:59. Why?" You quickly detach your body away from him, clutching your dress in your fingers, "goodbye! I'm sorry but I have to go!" You step away from him, his hand reaching out for you. "Hey wait!!" A clock starts to ring in your ears now, hurriedly making your way through the garden and back into the ballroom, Sukuna following not too far behind. When you walk past the curtains, you catch the eyes of other maidens just as Sukuna comes through who was quickly swarmed with women. "Wait- I haven't even got your name!" Uruame gets up quickly to chase after you, shoving past the swarm of women heading Sukuna's way.

"Mademoiselle!- pretty lady!-" she nearly trips over her own feet, her eyes watching your leaving figure unexpectingly run down the stairs with such speed. As you run down the stairs, one of your glass slippers fall off, growling in frustration when you have no time to make a grab for it. Uruame makes a grab for it as you dash into an extravagant carriage, "close the gates! Follow that carriage and close the goddamn gates!" Uruame shakes her head in anger, pointing towards your leaving carriage.

You all make it into a forest nearby your house before everything returned to its' original form, your 'horses' turning back into mice, your coachman turning back into your horse, your footman turning back into your dog, and your carriage turning back into a pumpkin that was now squished under your bum.

You look back to see men with large horses charging at you. You gasp before quickly moving out the way, gesturing to the rest of the animals before they got crushed like the pumpkin below that glittered with left over magic. "Oh.. I'm sorry. It seems I had forgotten about the time," you murmur, looking to your horse and dog apologetically. "But... It was so wonderful. And he was so handsome- and when we danced..- I'm sure that no man could have ever.. man," you laugh, wiping a tear. "(N/N)! (N/N)!" You look down, seeing Yuji's small clawed finger pointing at your feet. "A slipper!" "Yeah, your slipper!" Yuji and Nobara shout over each other, pointing their little fingers as they push at each other. You let out a shaky 'oh' and slip your feet out of the glass shoe, holding the delicate thing in your hands before you look up to the stars, eyes glimmering. "Oh, thank you. Thank you so much, for everything."

The King's snoring abruptly stops when he hears knocking at the door, grumbling as he gets up, rubbing the side of his face, "come in," he says urgently. Uruame breaks a sweat as she enters, quick to bow at his feet on one knee. "Uruame! So he's proposed already! Sit down, sit down," he easily lifts her up to her feet, pushing her down on a chair as she slightly frowns, clutching her monocle carefully. "But I haven't told you-" "now, now, we have much more important things to discuss. Arrangement for the wedding, special occasions, national holiday, all that sort of things."

"But Sire-" "here, have a cigar," the King grins, shoving a large cigar in Uruame's mouth that was already lit in the end. "But-" the King laughs, shoving more cigars in her suit. "Better practice to be handin' these out, eh?" He cackles, throwing his head back as Uruame stutters over her words, sweat covering almost her entire back. The king pulls out a sword, Uruame's eyes shutting tightly as she braces for pain but nothing comes. "And for you my friend, a knighthood!"

Uruame peeks an eye open, clutching the hem of her suit. "I hereby dub you Lady... Err- uh.. By the way, what title would you like?" Uruame swallows her saliva thickly, ignoring his question, "sire, she got away." "Well if that would be your title-.. she WHAT?!" The King shakes in anger, his face quite literally turning into a deep shade of red. "Why you- you little imbecile!" Uruame backs up on her feet as the King steps towards her, raising his sword, "b-but sire- remember! Y-you're sick! Your blood pressure!"

"Treason!" He swings down his sword, cutting Uruame's cigar in half. She blinks, gasping just as she crawls backwards, getting up to hide behind the chair she was on. "N-no sire!-" "sabotage! You were in league with the prince all along!" "No sire- I did try to stop her! But- but she vanished into thin air!" "A likely story!" He swings his sword at her, quickly scrambling under and through a table just before he cuts it in half. She quickly jumps onto his bed, jumping as high as he can as he swings at her. They both look like children. "He loves her Sire! The only thing left of her is this slipper! He won't rest until he finds her!" The King's eyes slightly widen at her words but continues to swing, "what did you say?"

"The prince, Sire! Swears he'll marry none but the girl who fits this slipper!" She lands on her back on his bed, the King landing along with her, his large feet planted at her sides. "He said that, did he?" He grins, snatching the glass slipper before smooching it like it was his mother's cheek. "Jackpot!" "But Sire- this slipper may fit any number of girls. Especially in Shibuya!"

"That's his problem- he gave his words, we'll hold him to it," the King hops off the bed, throwing the sword to the side and the slipper on the bed as he walks off. "Nuh uh, I'll have nothing to do with it," Uruame crosses her arms, her usual stoic expression back on her face. He picks up the sword again to lift up the glass slipper, gliding past Uruame's face. "You will try this on every maiden in the kingdom. And if the shoe fits," the King lowers the sword to her throat, "bring her in." "Y-yes.. your majesty," Uruame gulps.

"The prince?" You mutter as your mouth goes dry, accidentally dropping the tray of breakfast on the floor. "Oh you!- you clumsy little fool! Clean up that mess. And help my daughters dress up," your step-mother ushers, pulling the blanket off her daughters that was still in sleeping wear. "If he's in love with that girl, why should we even bother?" Mei pulls the blanket over her and Yorozu again, butts sticking up as their mother roughly snatches the blanket, both of them looking at her in surprise. "Listen to me! There's still a chance that one of you could get in," their mother explains urgently, nodding her head towards where you assumed the palace was. "What?" They say in unison. "One of us?" They turn to each other, blinking.

"Why mother, what do you mean?-" "just this.. No one, not even the prince, knows who that girl is," she explains thoroughly. "We know, we know! (N/N)! (N/-" Yuji quickly gets cut off by Megumi's punch, a frown displayed on his furry face. "The glass slipper is their only clue. Now, the Duchess has been ordered to try it on every girl in the kingdom. And if one can be found if the slipper fits, by the kings command: that girl shall be the Prince's bride."

"His.. bride," you breathe out under a whisper, processing the information. Your step-sisters were quick to process the information though, demanding for you to quickly get them ready and prepped, rushing out of the bed and such. They grab clothes across the room that was laid all over the place, placing it in your arms as you stare off into space, a loving grin on your features as you reminisce your last night interactions with the prince.

"What's the matter with you?!" "Wake up stupid!" "We gotta get dressed!" You blink at them before you look down at your own clothes, your work clothes worn out and covered in dirt and stains. "Dressed.. Yes, I've got to get dressed. It wouldn't do for the Duchess to see me like this.." You set down the pile of dresses and clothes down in Yorozu's arms.

"Mother did you see what she did to me?!" "Mother, are you just gonna let her do this?!" Your step-mother raises a hand at them, "silence." She glares at your back, squinting close to your figure as you sway your way down the hall, humming the same tune as you were the night before. As you go to your room, you quickly undid your hair and start to brush it, singing the tune more louder. Chose lifts up Yuji on his shoulders as Megumi and Nobara stand next to each other, all four shouting at you. "Hm? What?" Your eyes widen just as you look up in the mirror, gasping when you see your step-mother's reflection. "Oh no!" You turn to run to the door, pulling the handle and shaking it. "You can't- I- shit! You can't do this! Oh, let me out!" You cry out, tears starting to form quickly. "You must let me out! You can't keep me in here! Oh.. Oh please," you sob, sliding down your door as you weakly punch it.

Yuji and Megumi hide inside a tea cup, whispering to each other as they plan on how they get the key from your step-mother's pocket. They climb over it and crawl their way over, Yuji slightly pulling on Megumi's tail when he falls into the pocket. Megumi musters up his tiny strength and lifts up the key, Yuji reaching for it as it pokes out. Your step-mother looks up at the stairs just before she starts to reach in her pocket. Yuji jumps, shaking his head profusely as he pushes the key back down in the pocket, a hand going inside to grip the key and going outside the pocket to pat against it. Megumi rubs his head, silently growling under his breath. "Damn old lady," he mutters.

"You must be quite fatigue, your grace. May we all drink some tea?" Your step-mother suggests as Uruame sits herself down on a chair, clearly exhausted. Kenjaku nearly pours a drop of tea that Yuji was in, who was sucking in his stomach when it came too close. "No thank you, ma'am. But we must proceed with the search," Uruame slowly blinks, her monocle falling off her face. She nods politely before gesturing to her daughter, Yorozu. "Yorozu, dear," she says tenderly, grinning when the servant holds the glass slipper right under Yorozu's foot. The servant slips it in, clapping in delight when he sees it fit. Or as he thought. He lifts up her foot, revealing her long slender foot that the glass slipper barely fit in. It seems her dress was covering most of her foot.

The servant's toupee nearly jumps out, clearly shook. "Oh! It- it may be a trugle snug, y'know!? Dancin' all night and all.. I can't understand why of course! It- it always fit perfect before!" The servant tries his best to shove her foot in the glass slipper, Yorozu chuckling awkwardly.

Yuji reaches over for the key, Megumi trying to push it towards his reach as he tries his own attempt to climb out the pocket. Yuji lets out a squeak of pain, both of them dropping to the ground, sliding off your step-mother's dress. "Now c'mon, Yuji! Up the stairs! Now!" They lift up the key, only making it by a few steps. "Boy, do we have a long way to go," Yuji complains, frowning when he looks up. "Oh come on! We gotta help her, now quick! They're already moving to Mei!"

You sob and cling to the door, hearing soft patter draw in closer to the sound of your ears, peering your teary eyes through the key hole. You gasp and cry in relief, "you got the key! My goodness! Thank you, thank you so much!" Megumi slides under your door but before Yuji ever can, Mahito comes in and traps him with a bowl. "Oh! Mahito! Let him go!" Mahito tilts his head to the sound of your voice at the other side of the door, letting out hisses of laughter, his tongue rolling over his fangs. Megumi quickly rushes back out the door, grabbing Mahito's tail, biting it as hard as he can. Mahito jumps, hair spiking up as he grabs his tail. He quickly puts the bowl over Yuji again.

More mice start to charge at him with forks before getting flicked away by Mahito's paws, a grin plastered on his furry face. A candle comes towards him which he easily blows out. Birds come in to throw unused dishes at his head which he quickly jumps up to swipe at them to a stop. "Shit.. Shit!" You panick, banging your head against the door before looking through the keyhole, "Nanami.. Get Nanami!"

The birds quickly rush over to the barn, tugging at the ears of your other dog that hazily woke up by the sound of chirping birds and the barks of Shoko beside him, Geto joining in on the bundle of sounds.

Uruame quickly catches the glass slipper with a finger, sighing in relief. "Oh, your grace, I'm dreadfully sorry. It shouldn't happen again-" "precisely, Madam," Uruame frowns at the grown woman. Nanami growls at the cat that was now cowering in fear, yowling as Nanami chases him out the window. Other mices lift up the bowl that Yuji was under, balled tightly into himself while clutching the key. "Itadori, c'mon!" Yuji shakes his head before Megumi knocks him in the head, dragging him under the door along with the key.

"You are the only ladies in the household I hope I presume?" Uruame cocks a brow tiredly, rubbing her monocle against her suit. "There's no one in the house, your grace." Uruame blinks before bowing her head lightly at the three ladies, "quite so. Good day then, good day-" she nearly walks out before getting cut off by your alarming voice, turning around just as quick as you run down the stairs, your step-family looking at you appalled. "Please wait! May I try it on?" "Pay no attention to her," your step-mother persuades, your step-sisters chiming in, "it's only (N/N)!" "Scullery!" "From the kitchen!" "Ridiculous!" "Impossible!" "She's out of her mind!" Uruame's expression lightens when she examines your feet through her monocle, a twitching smile making way to her lips. "Yes, yes- just an imaginative child!-" "Madam, my orders were 'every maiden.'"

Uruame shoves past her, gently gesturing you to come closer. "Come, my child," she takes your hand in hers as she sits you down, waving to the servant carrying the glass slipper on top of a silk purple pillow. The servant nods happily as he rushes over. Your step-mother grits her teeth, stepping her foot out as he trips over, pretending not to have seen the scene, smirking when it shatters on the ground. "N-no.. Oh no, no, no... This is.. terrible. The king.. What will he say?" Uruame mumbles in despair, getting on her knees to pick up the broken pieces. "You see if I could help-" you get cut off by Uruame's despair, "no, no. Nothing can help."

You chuckle, dipping into your apron pocket, "but you see," you smirk, looking down at her. "I have the other slipper," you pull it out and your step-mother's face goes pale, her jaw dropping nearly to the floor. Mice cheer as they watch the scene, your slipper fitting just so perfectly on your foot. Uruame nearly kisses the shoe as she stares up at you in delight, glad that she finally does not have to search all over the city anymore. And of course, that she found you, Sukuna's soon-to-be wife. Your step-sisters' go into a fit, pouting and crossing their arms to hug themselves for comfort while they stomp on the marble floor.

"Should I go get my things?" You quirk up at Uruame who rubs her monocle against her suit jacket. She blinks at you in surprise before chuckling, "there's no need. But if you please to do so, do it by all means, your Highness," she lightly bows down your way, other men in suit following her action. Your cheeks turn pink before you quickly head upstairs, checking if you wanted to bring anything. You stop rummaging through your drawer when you come across a photo of your father and your mother with little you in between them. You smile bitterly at the picture, bringing it up close to your chest. And of course, you were gonna bring the animals.

"And then- and then what else happens?" Yuji's clawed fingers tug onto Gojo's sleeves, earning a smack on the head from Megumi. "Well, of course, the wedding happens," Gojo smirks, looking back into the large book in front of him.

"Does mommy and daddy have a happy ending?" Gojo looks over to the twins with pink hair, one of them having your colored eyes and the other with red. He chuckles, patting both of their heads, "just listen, okay?"

Maidens scurry across all over the room, various of old women complimenting your features and a few others criticizing you. They made sure your dress fit perfectly and when you came out of the changing room, your beauty had all girls young and old gasping, enchanted by your beauty. "My god, you're so beautiful. Not even I looked like this when I was your age," one comments, "somebody switch our bodies!" Another goes. "You're so beautiful, your Highness," a young one pipes in. You accept the compliments and chuckle with them before the door of the room bursts open, revealing none other than Uruame who held a grumpy face. "Alright, alright, wedding's about to start. Are you guys all set?" A following of quiet 'yes's and a few nods come from all over the room, Uruame sighing when she's had her confirmation until her eyes went over to your figure. Her eyes go wide at the sight of you. "Y-your Highness..." Uruame blushes, bowing. You were wearing a big puffy dress that was as white as snow, your dress being as nearly as similar as the one you went to the ball with. Except parts of the dress had more glimmer and lace designs, especially in your corset. Flower lace designs adorn your ribs and sides, fine linen covering the part for your breasts. Of course, your dress had puffy sleeves made out of fine linen also. You were also the only one wearing white. Everyone else in the wedding was wearing either a dark red or black(which was thankfully allowed). Sukuna made sure you and him were the only one standing out. "You're ethereal," Uruame finishes, bowing once more. You blush at her compliment, draping over the veil over your face.

The King enters the room before bowing deeply, a cute and friendly smile setting onto his face, "you look lovely, miss (Y/N). Gosh- I bet my grandchildren will be beautiful-" he grunts when he feels Uruame jab him from the side, chuckling before extending his arm to you. "Let's see where this beautiful day takes us," he grins wider when you loop your arms around his, hearing sounds of music playing. Was this what it was like? To get married? You were quickly handed a slightly large bouquet of flowers, mixed in with Lilies, red and white roses, some sweet asylum flowers adorning the sides.

The place was dark-colored and yet it seemed so bright with the colors of the sun leaking through the windows and past the drapes. Everyone stood up, many gasped and was in awe at the sight of you. You realized your dress was extended a little longer from the back but you didn't mind. You liked the attention. You could hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as you stepped closer to the alter, Sukuna's figure coming more into view behind the veil. You both come to a stop before he hugs you, clutching your bouquet tightly as you turn to the alter. You couldn't really see Sukuna's face over the lace of the veil but you could see his hair. His pink hair was slightly slicked back, some of it sticking up, giving that 'bad boy' or 'she calls me daddy' vibe.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate union of these two loving beings, Sukuna Ryōmen and (Y/N) (L/N)," you nearly gasp when you recognize the voice, turning to see the same blue eyes wink at you. You smile, turning your gaze back to Sukuna. "We stand here to honor and celebrate the love shared by these two people, as they come together to start their new life in a solemn vow, surrounded by their closest family and friends," you almost cringe at that part. Because you don't have much friends or family here besides the animals. "They are enjoyed that many of you are able to join us today. As we stand here today to mark this occasion, we remember that what matters most is not the ceremony itself, but the love and companionship you will continue to share throughout your married life together. It was by chance, that Sukuna had stumbled across this woman that he now claims his own," you hear Gojo fondly say. You hear Sukuna gruff, agreeing with him. A couple of people from the side laughs, including you. "To honor the strength of love and the role it plays in our lives, Sukuna and (Y/N) have called upon two of their nearest and dearest to share readings that have moved them,

Your wedding vows are a sacred declaration of your love for each other, the foundation of your relationship as a married couple, and the life you want to build together.

Please face each other as you declare vows to one another. Sukuna, you may start." You hear Sukuna suck in a breath, watching him fumble with his gloved fingers through the veil. For Sukuna, it was like his heart was in his throat. For the first time, in front of his own people, he felt so scared. "(Y/N) (L/N)," he says in a firm voice. "When I first met you, you were the most beautiful and enticing person I have ever seen. The dance we had the night we met felt.. special, really. But at the same time, it was like you were out of reach, something I couldn't grab or have, even as a prince," he calmly says without a stutter, looking up at you. "Within every fiber of my being, am I glad to have met such a great woman. One look at you and I'm lost and I feel... vulnerable," the word 'vulnerable' coming out of his mouth had a few people from the crowd gasping quietly. More like almost a few hundred people. "I, Sukuna Ryōmen, take you, (Y/N) (L/N) to be my wedded wife. I promise to stand by your side through good and bad times, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I vow to stay true to you and love you unconditionally for the rest of my days." Out pops a silk pillow with two rings on it, both golden and one decorated with beautiful glimmering diamonds. Four mice are underneath it.

You let out a shaky sigh, looking up to the ceiling so tears wouldn't fall and ruin your makeup. A few people chuckle including your maidens. "(Y/N)," Gojo turns to you, his brow slightly raised. You inhale and exhale through your nose and look up at Sukuna, secretly glad your veil was covering your face. "Sukuna Ryōmen. When I first met you, I wouldn't lie and say you didn't have me scared shitless," you spat, smile wavering as Sukuna snickers, a few people gasping at the use of language while Sukuna's father chuckles at it. "But I realized you were just more than scary. You're funny and kind when you want to be. You took me away from what only I can call a nightmare, and for that, I thank you for everything. Maybe someday in our marriage, I'll get to break past your rough cold exterior," a few awes are heard throughout the crowd.

"I, (Y/N) (L/N), take you, Sukuna Ryōmen to be my wedded husband. I promise to stand by your side through good and bad times, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I vow to stay true to you and love you unconditionally for the rest of my days," you let out a sigh from speaking all those words. Who knew vows could be so overwhelming? "Oh yeah- I forgot, before we start, does anyone have any objections?" Silence. Gojo chuckles before beckoning you both to take the rings.

"Do you, Sukuna, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" "I do," the softest words ever to come out of Sukuna's mouth. You were sure your cheeks were as red as beetroots right now. "Do you, (Y/N), take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" You nod, squeezing the trunk of the flower bouquet, "I do." You both slide the rings onto each other's fingers, smiling at it adoringly when it fits perfectly. "You may now kiss the bride," Gojo triumphaly announces, watching in anticipation when Sukuna lifts up your veil. You nearly took his breath away. Before you could even blush and turn away embarrassed, he smashes his lips against yours. It became gentle quickly after that, his lips moving amongst your own. His lips were soft, demanding but soft. It felt nice. It was passionate. From that day on, you were now married to each other.

You walk down the hallway just before coming to a stop, eyes widening as you turn to peek through a door. Your eyes soften when you see your godfather with an open book, animals and your children surrounding him. You smile but it quickly fades away when you feel a hand on your shoulder, your soul almost floating away. "Woah, there. Sorry, darling," Sukuna kisses your cheek, moving his hand on your waist as his thumb caresses your side. You sigh, shaking your head before reciprocating the kiss onto his cheek, not too long until you lay a hand on your own. "I'm happy, Sukuna," you look up at him. He smiles down at you, moving to kiss you. "Eww!" You both quickly turn to see everyone staring at you through the crack of the door. Sukuna growls, moving away from you and marches into the room as you snort at the sight.

As he scolds everyone and tells them to go to bed, you smile. You could never ask for anything more than this.

A/N: was rlly fun to write, I completely made Sukuna into a softie in this one so he's not completely himself. But it's Cinderella only she can change him! 🥰

This is kind of a make up after the eternity fic.. But I still hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading <3

If you liked this one, go check out my other works and see if you enjoy them as well! Follow and give me a note if you enjoy<3

M. LIST

If you wanna know more about me, click on my page and read my pinned post.

Tags: @sircatchungus

249 notes · View notes

tiredandoptimistic · 15 days ago

Text

I'm thinking thoughts about Agent Curt Mega today. Specifically him at the end of Doing This, when Tatiana ends their kiss. I highly doubt that he's ever come out to anyone other than the men he's slept with, and he's still too afraid to say it out loud. But it's not just that he explains through a euphemism ("you're not my type"), it's that when Tatiana tries to say it more plainly he cuts her off ("so you're into-" "yeah"), because he can't even handle hearing it from her. He is fully expecting her to hate him for being gay, and when she doesn't, and just continues the conversation as normally as she can, even saying she still wants to be his friend, he is blown away by positive emotions because this man has probably never had a real friend before. It's just so.

What I love about the ending of the musical, when Curt kills Owen, is that he realizes that he deserves better. He realizes that his relationship with Owen isn't worth fighting for, and that his friendships with Barb and Tatiana are. And that's really meaningful to me, seeing platonic love held up as a happy ending and romantic love acknowledged as fallible.

#curt really did take owen's advice and move on #maybe he could have redeemed him if he kept talking #but owen just wasn't worth that risk anymore #curt was under no obligation to forgive the man who was gleefully torturing him like two days ago #you can love someone and still know that they're bad for you #especially in this case #where owen isn't just bad for curt but also actively trying to perpetrate evil schemes #like as much as I want a curtwen happy ending #i have to admit that we got a curt happy ending #or at least saw him start on the road to happiness #and that's enough for me because curt is my favoritest guy #i hope he gets therapy #spies are forever #agent curt mega #tatiana slozhno #owen carvour #barb larvernor #my analysis #cleaning out the archive #this post was originally from july 24 2023

51 notes · View notes

lesbianherbertwestart · 1 year ago

Text

Going back to my roots. Drawing these 2 goobers being ridiculously in love.

#specifically thinking about post Simon saving Betty from golb. and they get too explore Ooo together #I always picture betty with short hair for some reason in this non canon ending where they get too be happy #Srry I have mega autism about them anyway #betty grof #simon petrikov #petrigrof #Adventure time

134 notes · View notes

yenforfairytales · 2 years ago

Text

I hope Terry Silver gets to wear one more ascot in his CK era

Imagine with his silver hair now too? 🔥

I know it's hard to tell, but in the flashback scene he's in cool tones with a blue ascot

As opposed to KK3 in the warm and red tones.

ALL THAT'S LEFT IS PURPLE

Because clearly he will get a happy ending and finally be complete and balanced, right? Right?

Here's some ideas! Join mee

It can be done is what I'm saying and it's only fair that Old!Terry gets his ascot Moment™️.

+Bonus:

Is this not something Prince Terrence would wear??

And yes, I picked blue because Cobra Kai has established his character as a Blue Oni to Kreese's Red Oni (in a mirror to Daniel's Blue Oni role with Johnny's Red Oni)

And that's also why I firmly believe that while S5 Terry was unbalanced in his identity...❤💙

...he will end the series at peace 💜

#just like Daniel did 💙💜#that is my hope anyway #with my luck he'll die by Kreese's hand or something #but my mega happy ending is the two blue onis chillin together #while they sigh at their respective red onis unsophisticated antics #cobra kai #karate kid 3 #terry silver #terensu #my post #color theory #ascot avengers assemble

20 notes · View notes

tinytennisskirt · 4 months ago

Text

Let It Linger

Summary: When post-canon divorced! Art goes back to high school for a fifteen year reunion, he’s met with strong memories of the his estranged best friend, the girl he loved those fifteen years ago. He gets caught in a rally between his past and present. A whirlwind of past yearning, casual touches, meaningful conversations and pining rushes back to him like the time never passed when he sees her again for the first time in fifteen years. Turns out not so much has changed.

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol, marijuana. casual touching, pining, yearning, MEGA SLOWBURN, a longer fic with time skipping between MRTA! art and POST CANON! art. AU.

Art wasn’t sure how to feel about this. He was parked outside, in some dress shirt he’d owned far too long and the black dress pants he wore for when he did pre-game press. His hands on the wheel, lips pressed into a straight line. This would be interesting, he knew it would be. He was sitting in the parking lot outside the smaller gym of Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy and he could hear the music through the walls of the car and through the open gym door, he could see a purple cast of light from inside.

It had only been fifteen years. That wasn’t much time in perspective, but fifteen years felt like a lot when he remembered who he was that many years ago.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

“My mouth, my mouth!” You called, opening your mouth and slowing your running to walking backward. Patrick tossed a marshmallow and you caught it in your mouth as the three of you ran down the hill, Patrick with a bag of marshmallows, you with the chocolate, and Art with the graham crackers.

Both boys cheered loudly and you jumped, triumphantly raising your hands above your head. Art nearly ran right into you with the momentum from the hill and you all ended up laughing way too hard at it, even with the marshmallow in your mouth. Art tried to catch his breath, his hand sliding over your waist as he passed you, trying not to stumble the rest of the way down the hill. Patrick just laughed. “I had no idea my aim was that good,” he said, teasing.

You swallowed the marshmallow, “You’re kidding? Your aim? That was all me.”

Art grinned, “I think it was a joined effort…” He played mediator. You hit him in the upper arm gently. “No, all you. All her, Patrick. Sorry.”

Patrick threw his arms up in forfeit. There was no winning against you. They both knew that. You giggled and shoved a marshmallow right in Patrick’s mouth before skipping down the rest of the hill, leaving both boys behind you. Art watched, a huge grin on his face. The three of you had found a great way to sneak out of your dorms at night. It was 11:42 and you were heading toward the back of the grounds with the ingredients for s’mores, a lighter, and matches for good measure. And maybe the remainder of a pack of cigarettes.

What good was your last year at the academy if not the one you rebel just a tiny bit? You were down the hill humming Groove Is In The Heart by Deee-Lite in your big Mark Rebellato sweater and yoga pants just happy to be out at night. You were fun, carefree, and bright, even in the dark of the edge of the property, away from all the fuss of the school. “You’re so slow!” You called out to them. Both Art and Patrick jogged to catch up to you, finding your regular spot between a few trees.

You sat on your regular log and pulled the blanket from your bag before getting up to drape it over. Patrick got to collecting the twigs from the stash and put them in the hole you three dug the first time you snuck out. Art took the seat next to you on the log, “Crazy, you have like seven tennis balls in here.” He laughed. You shook your head, nudging him just a little while he grabbed the three marshmallow skewers from your bag. He grabbed one of the balls out and threw it at Patrick.

“Can take the girl out of Mark Rebellato but can’t take the Mark Rebellato out of the girl,” Patrick said, catching the ball and throwing it back at Art. He got the fire started and lit one of the remaining cigarettes off of the growing flame. “You guys ready for that test on Monday?”

“Since when are you an academic?” You chuckled, putting a marshmallow on the end of Art’s stick.

“Since he found out Lydia Jennings is into smart guys,” Art said. You chuckled, biting your lip just gently. Art noticed.

Patrick blew smoke out the side of his mouth, “No- okay, she said she liked smart guys we all know there’s no way in hell I’m becoming a straight-A student like this one over here,” he gestured with the cigarette between his fingers to you. “She’s hot, she’s not drop-everything-and-study hot. I’m talking about the test on Monday because I know that with you two and Stanford, you’re obsessed with your grades… I am… not ready.”

You shook your head, looking up at him, “She is so drop-everything-and-study hot, you’re just picky. And I’ll lend you my notes tomorrow if you want- Art and I worked on them together, they’re pretty extensive.”

“They are good.” Art nodded, dangling his marshmallow over the embers. “You’re actually worried about it? I mean, the year is almost half-done, you’ve got time.”

He nodded, “I know, but I have to graduate to be free of this place for good. No way I’m doing that GED thing.”

“My mom did the GED thing.” You said. “She’s doing just fine. It was only a setback. Plus, if you plan on truly going pro, it won’t be a big thing. Just player trivia.” Art laughed at that, pulling his stick back to pull the marshmallow off. You had already prepped his graham cracker and chocolate and pulled the marshmallow off between them for him. Patrick watched how you two worked so wordlessly- wasn’t his focus. “I will lend you all of my notes tomorrow, it’s just a matter of reading them a few times a day and you’re set.”

Patrick shrugged, grabbing himself the things he needed for a s’more. “Thanks.”

Art nodded, “You’re lucky you’re good with a racket.”

“Rude!” You said, shoving him backward off the log. He landed on his back in the leaves and it was all-around laughter again. The dynamic was this. Shoving, pushing, insults in good fun, but caring all too much. Art knew there was nobody in the world who cared more about anything than you did. He was, as your friend, able to enjoy just how passionate you were about the things and people you liked. He pulled himself back onto the log, shaking his head at you as you dusted him off and removed the leaves from his hair. You smelled good, like fall, vanilla, and chai, almost, but with a sweetness that reminded Art of the caramel apples from the fair. He shut his eyes as your hands picked the last little bits from his hair. You pat his cheek when it was done and the conversation moved onto the new tennis coach’s really bad toupée.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

Art got out of his car, shut the door, and locked it, car keys sliding into his pocket. He stared out over the grounds, past the outdoor tennis courts, and to the point in the field where it dipped down into the big hill. He wondered if they’d ever found your makeshift fire pit, filling it with dirt, moving the logs… He glanced at himself in the side mirror of the car, remembering when his hair was longer, more golden. Part of him wondered if he would even see you tonight. Maybe he’d see Patrick, which was a more likely occurrence, Patrick wouldn’t miss something like this.

If only they made it less of a surprise who you’d run into at one of these. He guessed it would be his class, a few extras, people who had settled down bringing their fiancees, partners, husbands, and wives. He wondered if he was too dressed up? Dressed down? And he was nervous, for some reason, when he shouldn’t have been.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

“I know I shouldn’t be deciding on a dress this late but I can’t tell if this dress is too much?” You said from inside your dorm room. “I’m afraid Mark Rebellato himself will come to smite me for how much boob this dress shows off.” You spoke through the door.

Art and Patrick grinned at each other. “I’m sure it’s fine!” Art called back. Both boys had spent about twenty minutes tops getting ready for the mid-term formal. One of many formals the school so unfortunately had. “Can we see?”

“It’s not the right dress!”

“How would we know?”

The door to your room unlocked and you opened it, standing looking very unimpressed in a gorgeous purple dress. Both boys stood, a little dumbfounded for a second. “Too much?”

“No.” Both boys said in unison, gazing at you, your hair perfect, your makeup perfect.

Art blinked hard to snap himself back to reality, “You look… beautiful.” His eyes lingered a little too long on the slight shimmer to your eyelids and the gloss on your lips. Your eyes softened and you looked down at yourself again.

Patrick agreed. “Damn.” Both boys had themselves forgetting you were the same girl they called their friend on a day-to-day basis. “Mark Rebellato is rolling in his grave.”

“Is he dead?” You asked, laughing. Art didn’t find anything funny when you were standing there looking like that. He thought you were gorgeous, he could say that as your friend of a good few years, but this was breathtaking. You were.

The dance was more fun than both Art and Patrick anticipated, but you made anything fun. Patrick nudged Art’s arm as they stood off to the side with cups of punch. “She’s different this year.” He said. Both boys were watching you dance with one of your girlfriends. You were so free and you were once again the brightest thing in the whole room, purple and pink light cascading over your face and you were laughing.

Art hardly heard him. “Hm?” His eyes didn’t leave you.

“Exactly.”

Art nudged him back, seeing what Patrick was getting at. “Fuck off.” He grinned. “She’s just pretty. She’s always been pretty.”

Patrick nodded, sipping his punch, watching your dress swish around you as your friend spins you. “Too pretty.”

“Mhm,” Art sighs. The way he watches you is different from Patrick's. There’s something buried in what he feels, but he’s never acknowledged it much. Aside from when you met at twelve in a co-op game and you made fun of his ears. It honestly hurt his little feelings but Patrick found it absolutely hilarious that someone so funny-looking could say something so mean to someone else. Art laughed when Patrick defended him. But you, always so smart, nodded. And you smiled, which both boys didn’t expect. Then you apologized to Art and introduced yourself like nothing even happened. Art forgave you. There was something about you that both he and Patrick knew would make a good addition to the duo they’d formed over the first week. And it had been that way ever since. Didn’t make it easier when you stopped looking so funny and disproportionate when you turned fourteen but, being friends, it was ignorable. For the most part. They were only boys.

When presented with a slow dance, you excused yourself from the floor and came to stand with the boys, taking Patrick’s cup of punch right out of his hands and downing it. Patrick went to grab it but it was too late. You pulled a face, “Seriously?” You scrunched up your nose and Art laughed as he pieced it together.

“Didn’t give me a chance to warn you,” he chuckled. You felt the warmth spread down your throat- he’d spiked his own punch. Of course. Art, mouth agape, placed a hand on the small of your back without thinking. You just giggled and shook your head at him. Patrick took his cup back from you, sipping the very last drops. The couples and wannabes behind you continued to dance closely. “Awful, right?”

“So bad,” you giggled. Art twisted his mouth to the side, trying not to laugh too much. Your hand closed around Art’s wrist and pulled it up over your opposite shoulder and you kept talking about how gross it tasted, making fun of Patrick for spiking it so badly. If anyone sniffed it, they would have immediately known it was mostly alcohol. Art’s arm stayed around you, the perfect place for it, so it made sense to step a little closer. It’s only worth noting as something that happened because Patrick, who was used to your casual displays of closeness like this one- saw the angle Art kept his hand at so that his hand wouldn’t rest too close to your boobs. He laughed just a bit. Art just shook his head at Patrick and flipped him off with that very hand.

By the near-end of the night, you’re danced out and you asked the boys to come back with you, but Patrick had taken to chatting up Lydia Jennings, of course, so Art obliges. Patrick didn’t need a wingman, he would do fine on his own. Art holds the door for you as you leave and you’re immediately laughing as you cross the parking lot. “Fucking insane,” Art laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I always forget it’s not a school dance until Patrick sneaks in two shooters.”

“I had at least one whole shooter in that punch,” you said, knocking against him as you walked. The cool autumn air hit your bare skin and it was harsh. “It was disgusting.” Art felt you shiver just a bit beside him and he was already taking off his jacket to give to you. “He could have gone with vodka or something, spiced rum, and fruit punch is one of the worst things I think I’ve ever tasted- thank you.” You said, taking his jacket with a smile and pulling it over your shoulders.

“It was spiced rum?!”

“Yeah!” You laughed with him, still leaning against him as the two of you walked. “He ends up with Lydia Jennings she’s going to hate, hate, hate his breath. I brushed my teeth in the bathroom,” you said, pulling a pink toothbrush out of your bag. Art couldn’t help but laugh at the thing.

“Smart,” he grinned wider as you showed him the travel-sized tube of toothpaste that went with it. Art just flashed you his pack of mint gum in return and you narrowed your eyes at him. Art shoved it back in his pocket along with both of his hands. “So… you had fun tonight?” He followed up.

You smiled at him with those perfectly glossed lips parting to show teeth. “I did. However-

“There’s a however?”

“However…” You grinned, taking his hand and walking backward. You lowered your voice, pretending to be extra serious. “You need to dance more so you can dance with me.”

“You didn’t like the nodding I did? I feel like that was a lot, too much, even.” He held the door open to the other building and you mouthed another thank you as you passed him again. ”How much more do I need to do to dance with you?”

“You can always dance with me. I promise it’s a lot more fun when you’re not feeling centered out.” You told him, heading up the stairwell. It’s still early in the night so the girl’s dorms were mostly empty. “I knowww, I know how you get with it, but-”

“I’d dance with you.” He nodded, but squeezed your upper arm, “You didn’t ask me. I would have.”

“Okay then. Swear on your life right now that if I asked you, you’d say yes.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, fighting that neverending grin that lived on his face when you were around. “For what?”

“All future purposes.” You replied, stopping outside your room and leaning against the wooden door. “Where dancing is involved.” You held out your pinkie finger and Art took it before he got to question any more. You grinned and jumped a few times. “You just made the craziest promise, I’m going to make you hate me with that one.” Art just grinned.

You talked a bit more just at the door until both you and Art were wary about someone seeing him on the girl’s side of the dorms. You opened the door to your room and stepped just inside, about to say goodbye, but just one more thing before he left, you asked. For him to help you unzip your dress. Art should not have felt the way he did when you handed him back his jacket and turned around while lifting your hair. Your bunkmate had zipped it up before you had left and you had no idea when she’d be back, you explained.

Art wouldn’t say no to you. Who could? He stepped closer, met with the closer, stronger scent of your perfume and you still smelled sweet. You always smelled sweet. With gentle fingers, he took the small zipper and slowly unzipped the back of your dress. The sound of the zipper being the only thing in the empty of your room and he wouldn’t forget how when the zipper hit the bottom of its track, his finger grazed the bare skin of your back. Soft, softer than he could have even imagined. And you turned so that he wouldn’t be faced with the bare of it all, braless underneath, he could tell, and you thanked him for the night, for his jacket, for his help. Said you’d see him tomorrow. Usually, you’d hug him goodnight, but with your dress about to slip off you just smiled, making fun of the promise he’d made to you just thirty minutes ago before a real goodnight.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

Art looked over at the dorm building across the lot, looking at the exact path between cars you and him would have walked that night. His hands shoved themselves into his pockets, habit. He decided not to stand out in the parking lot anymore, swallowing hard as he allowed himself through the door and into the smaller gym, which was decorated just like the regular school dances. There were streamers and early 2000s radio hits and so many people.

It was almost immediately people recognized Art. He was possibly the most successful of the graduating class, though he hated to think it. He wouldn’t put himself above anyone. He was already getting pats on the back and he started in some small conversations but he was a little distracted.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

“They have parties at Stanford?” You said, looking at some Stanford webpage on Art’s mom’s computer. “Frats, too. Insane. Hey Art, you should join the frat.” You chuckled. Art and Patrick were playing Jenga at the coffee table, two or three of the blocks wet from falling into the eggnog.

Patrick ruffled Art’s hair, “Frat boy Art Donaldson?”

You spun in the chair, “I could join a sorority, they have those too.”

Art grinned, “Yeah? You think they’d take Patrick?”

Patrick pushed Art into the couch and the Jenga tower toppled over once again. You laughed, watching him shake his head and reach for his eggnog, once again pulling a Jenga block out of it. You came and sat next to Art on the couch, sitting on the arm. His hand mindlessly wrapping itself around your ankle as your foot rested on his thigh. Gentle, like letting you know that he’s there despite the readily available knowledge that was your being. Something sweet. Patrick took a seat on the floor in front of you both. “I think they’d take me, but you have to be a Stanford student, so you know, it’s too bad.”

“Their loss,” You smiled. “Do you think I’m pretty enough to rush a sorority when we get to Stanford?” You asked. Both boys looked at each other.

“...Yeah,” Patrick said, nodding just a little. You narrowed your eyes.

“Yes.” Art said firmly. He squeezed your ankle just a little. You smiled at that. Art’s mom called you to dinner, christmas dinner, and in seconds both boys were bolting to the dining room. You exchanged a look with Art’s mom when you got there. She was lovely and she was letting both you and Patrick stay for the holidays. Her food was amazing and the conversation was Stanford, mostly, and your tennis plans for after graduation. The application process, the fuss of getting a dorm room there, and how excited she was for you and Art to be going to the same place. She loved you, his mom. She called you her daughter when the mailman came around during the holiday season and to whoever asked. She’d been in a household of boys for far too long.

The post-dinner conversation laying on your back on Art’s bed next to him while Patrick was laid at the foot of the bed was on exactly that. “Art, I think your mom likes Y/N more than you.”

“I know,” Art replied, hands folded on his chest. He turned his head to look at you, giggling.

“I can’t help it,” you replied through your laughter. “Everyone loves me, it’s not my fault.” Nothing about that statement was false- everyone did love you. And who wouldn’t? You were kind and sweet and loving and so warm to everyone you met so of course they all loved you. There was nobody like you so everyone who crossed paths with you would never be able to forget you. Art’s smile fell, looking at your freshly glossed lips and that unforgettably beautiful smile. He’d zoned out so when you rolled onto your side, nearly onto him, his eyes widened just a bit.

“You’re jealous?” You beamed.

“Not even,” Art scrunched his nose, using a gentle hand to push you away but you returned, giggling. “She’d go insane having a real excuse to go to sales at the mall.”

“Sugar mommy,” Patrick remarked. He had way too much pie, he was half-asleep. Art just kicked him with the foot that rested closest to his chest, eliciting an ‘oof’ noise from Patrick that you giggled at.

“You’re so jealous your mom likes me more, it’s crazy, it’s crazy,” You giggled, grabbing his upper arm. Art twisted his mouth to the side, eyes flickering from the gloss on your lips, to your eyes. “Don’t worry, when she comes to visit me at Stanford, she’ll probably have enough time to see you as well. I’ll make sure of it.” You teased.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Art said, pushing you back again and you just laughed madly, a laugh that was so room-filling and contagious and completely perfect. Art turned his head to look at you. You were more than sorority pretty. Who wouldn’t think so when you laughed like that?

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

Art found that Lydia Jennings had three kids now. Three in fifteen years, which was a little crazy. She, of course, had pictures with her. Spitting images of her bright blonde, big-mouthed self and Art pretended to care, more than he cared to admit. There was no sign of Patrick. Lydia Jennings asked Art about his divorce, asking about his own daughter, but he had to real interest in talking about that sort of thing. Not with her. He excused himself, raising his head above the crowd to scan for anyone else he knew.

He ended up talking to an old friend who was already balding with his pregnant wife at his side. It was good to see just how well people were doing. Settling down, having quit tennis or only pursuing it on the weekends, some of them with kids in tennis classes already. Art was continuing to be congratulated on his career by even the partners of these past classmates.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

You were dancing to some Tal Bachman song and Art was internalizing every lyric. “What song is this again?” He asked, leaning back against the tree. The light from the fire was flickering around your face that was nearly hidden by the winter jacket you had on.

“She’s So High,” you replied, spinning in circles. Patrick locked eyes with Art from across the fire, giving a knowing smile. One, because you were high, so was he, so was Art- Two, because Art was completely zoned in on you, the way you moved, the way you looked. And he couldn’t help it, you were the most fascinating thing around and he’d smoked quite a bit. It was like the song was written for you, he thought, out of his mind and red-eyed. You were dancing alone, like you hadn’t even though twice, the music coming from your little portable music player thing. Art met Patrick’s eyes and Patrick raised his eyebrows, nodding at you. Art shook his head, but Patrick jumped over the fire to sit next to him anyway.

“So are you telling her or am I?” He teased, ruffling Art’s hair and Art bat him away, huge grin on his face. “So when’s the wedding?”

“Shut the fuck up, she’ll hear you,” Art chuckled, shoving Patrick over just a bit. Patrick came back laughing. “It’s not like that.”

“You really think I’m fucking stupid, huh?” Patrick chuckled, pulling Art into a bit of a headlock in return. “I’ve known you both how long?”

“Too long,” Art laughed, trying to wriggle out of Patrick’s grasp, finally escaping just to shove Patrick all the way over. He was glad you were minding your business, occupied with the song. “It’s not like that.” He repeated, still keeping his voice low.

Patrick pulled himself back up, “Tell that to your dick,” he said, taking a shot at Art’s groin that he gladly blocked just to sock Patrick in his. Patrick doubled over just for a second and Art laughed a bit too hard, the fry of the weed that burned his throat making him cough. Patrick couldn’t stop laughing at the coughing and being high, everything was a lot funnier. It took a minute for them to stop laughing over the stupidity. Patrick sighed heavily, looking over at you still dancing mindlessly to a song by Avril Lavigne, then back at Art, who was trying to regulate his breathing, also staring at you again. “Maybe not always your dick but definitely your eyes. I’ve never seen anyone with bigger heart-eyes, it’s sickening.” He said.

Art looked at Patrick and twisted his mouth to the side. “I don’t think so. She’s just…pretty.” His eyes gazing back to you, spinning in your fluffy winter coat, swaying, firelight flickering over your face, defining your features in shadow.

“Uh-huh… You really think I don’t know?”

“There’s nothing to know,” Art replied, pulling his eyes off of you again.

Patrick shook his head, adding more to the fire, hand still over his groin as the pain continued to die down. He kept his voice low, “Fuck off with that. It’s bullshit. I know it, you know it. You spend more time with her than me, she’s your partner for every co-op game, your mom loves her, you look at her like I’ve never seen you look at anyone.” He chuckled, “And you so want to fuck her.”

“Not as much as I want you to fuck off,” Art chuckled. “Okay, well, I mean- I might. She’s gorgeous, yeah, but I don’t think I could ever tell her anything. She’s perfect, too perfect and we’re friends. We’re her best friends, it would fuck everything up.”

“So you don’t even try? I’ve seen you ask for girl’s numbers within forty minutes of knowing them, it’s unlike you to not even try.”

“She’s different,” Art replied, looking down at his hands. “I couldn’t. I make a move and she doesn’t want it, we’re fucked forever.”

“And you don’t make a move and you’ll never know,” Patrick replied. The weed made him oddly thoughtful. “I’ve seen you two with my own eyes there’s something there, I swear to god there is. You can’t just let things play out, you’re going to miss your chance. Think about Stanford next year, all the college guys hitting on her and you know they will, she’s Y/N… Fifteen years down the road she’s married to some frat guy she met at a rager and you’ll be wishing you told her while you could.”

The silence between them was filled by your music and humming. Art looked at you, eyes closed, lips glossy, boots in the dirt. And for the first time he let himself think that he could never want anyone more than he wanted you. He would never see past you, he wouldn’t ever feel this way about anyone else and in the moment, through the weed, it felt real. You, perfect, gorgeous, here.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

Art glanced around the room, feeling some familiar fire burning in the pit of his stomach. It felt oddly highschool, it felt oddly familiar. He wondered if you had kept up with tennis, he wondered if you had a husband and kids, he wondered if you’d gained weight, lost weight, changed your hair, were going just a little grey, even. He was nervous- that’s what he was and he could place that. It was then that he saw Patrick, coming in through the door across the room.

Art, over Tashi, had put her in the past, including what Patrick had done. Him and Patrick didn’t keep up much other than a few texts and meeting at the bar a few times, but the hard feelings were pretty much gone. Art started making his way over to his old friend just to be grabbed by another ex-classmate who wanted to catch up. He was faced with more pictures of kids and meeting someone’s wife and Art wasn’t so bothered to talk about his own daughter, he’d always take that opportunity. She was the best thing he currently had.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

You and Art sat on the bleachers in the gym, just having finished a co-op game, having won, of course. You both showered and got dressed again and met back up. The air was warming up, mid-spring and Art had still not told you yet. He decided he would at the end of the year and see if you’d make the first move, just to be safe. It didn’t weigh on him- he’d been friends with you for ages, liked you for ages, so it was a secondary thing.

“Hoping my tennis career is enough to buy an old victorian home,” You said, packing your things into your gym bag.

“I remember you saying that,” Art said, hauling your bag onto his shoulder along with his own. It wasn’t abnormal to have him carry your bag. It was sweet. “You want a blue one. Well, blue-grey.” He said. You looked at him, a little surprised he remembered the blue-grey thing. “With the white trim. I remember things.”

You nudged him just a little bit as you passed him. “I’m surprised, after so many tennis balls have hit you in the head.”

“And whose bad aim is at fault?” He teased back. You held the door for him and went out into the early afternoon sun.

You rolled your eyes at him with that gorgeous smile. “Bad aim, uh huh. Who’s to say it’s not on purpose?”

“Y/N!” Your girl friend called, bounding over. “My hair tie broke and I can’t go all the way back to the dorms in time for scrimmage, do you have an extra?” Art watched your full attention go to this girl, linking hands with her and everything. He watched you take the hair tie off of your wrist, the purple glittery one that you swore was your favourite. “Hi, Art.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, noticing him standing there. Art just raised his hand in a subtle wave.

“Of course,” you said, pulling the purple sparkly hair tie off and giving it to her, no questions asked. “Do you need anything else? I have a redbull in my bag if you wanted that before your scrimmage?”

“Really?” She asked. Art lowered your bag for you and you unzipped it, pulling the redbull out and handing it to her as she finished tying her hair up. All Art could wonder was how could anyone not love you when this was who you were? Art knew that purple hair tie was your favourite and you gave it up, just like that, and didn’t even ask for it back later. And your redbull that Art watched you go through your coins for six miinutes counting literal dimes and pennies to get it from the vending machine was in this girl’s hand just because you thought to offer it. You were kind and beautiful and Art moved the date up a little in his head- the date that he’d tell you how he felt. For now, he dug his free hand into his pocket and pretended like you weren’t absolutely perfect.

Saying goodbye to the girl, you and Art resumed your walk back to the main building. “You know Abbey, right?”

“Her?”

“Yes, her,” you giggled. “Don’t tell her I told you this, but she keeps asking me about you. Your favourite colour, song, movie, all of it.” You explained, gesturing with your hands and leaning against him as you two walked. “She likes you.”

Art was only half-surprised. But was more surprised at you bringing it up. “Likes me how?”

“Exactly in the way you think,” you replied. “I’m always down to play wingwoman, but I did tell her all the wrong information.” Your smile turned into a bit of a cringe. Art liked that even in your full care and support, you were just a little evil. Plus, what harm was it really? Art was only seeing you. He couldn’t spend a second on anyone else. Seemed impossible. “She thinks you’re a huge fan of Green Day.” Art couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah?” Art set down your things at a table in the cafeteria and the two of you got in line for food. “Playing interference?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, bowing so your head nudged his arm. The smile that pulled at your lips was one you appeared to want to suppress. A strand of your hair, wet, fell in your face and Art wasted no time moving it behind your ear. Your eyes met his as your smile broke into full action and your eyes fell back to the ground. Sometimes… just sometimes, he felt maybe you were worth ruining the friendship.

Your lower lip between your teeth, you grabbed a tray for him before you grabbed your own.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

Art finally made it over to Patrick, who looked decent. He shaved a bit, cleaned up just enough. Art thought about how strange it was to be back here with him after all this time. It almost felt right, was just missing you. “Hey, man.” Patrick said, reaching forward and locking hands with Art in a quick greeting.

“Hey,” Art replied. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Patrick replied. “See anyone worth talking to?”

“Not really. Lydia Jennings has three kids now, in case you were looking forward to that,” he chuckled. “She doesn’t look bad though. I didn’t check for a ring either, so.”

Patrick chuckled, hands in the pockets of his dress pants, wearing virtually what was the grey version of Art’s outfit. “Not for me.” He said. “I actually- I ran into Y/N in the parking lot. I thought maybe you’d be looking for her tonight.” Patrick added. Art hated the way his stomach did a little flip as if he wasn’t a full-grown man with a failed marriage and a daughter.

“She came?”

“Yeah, she headed in here before me. She’s good, she hasn’t aged much, it’s weird. You know what they say about the way good people age…” He added. “She’s in purple, said we’d talk more later but she was excited to be here.”

Art swallowed hard, “I’ll keep an eye out. Thanks, man.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

When Patrick left early to hang out with Lydia Jennings, swearing he was going to ‘get some’, it left you and Art in the boy’s room. How they’d been bunkmates for six years running you had no idea, having been room with at least four different girls. Their room was decorated with sports posters, tennis awards and medals, and Star Wars memorabilia. You weren’t supposed to be there, but oh well. “You think purple is my colour?” You asked Art, going through the nail polish you had in your bag, buried under the bag of cheetos you brought over.

“Hm?” Art slid off his bed and onto the floor where you sat, your back to the edge of his mattress. “Yeah. The medium one, though. Not the dark one.” He said, pointing to the bottle he liked better. You shot a small smile his way before grabbing that one.

“I haven’t painted them in ages,” you said, doing a bit of a jazz hand really close to his face and then pressing your hand to his cheek. Annoying, or trying to be, but casual. Art scrunched his nose and batted your hand away, though he really didn’t want to. “So about Abbey.”

“Your friend?” Art adjusted the way he sat. His knee overlapped yours.

“Mhm,” you replied,beginning to paint your nails. “Did she end up talking to you after class yesterday?”

Art thought back to after class when he was on his way to his next class to meet up with you and Patrick. She had come up to him, but he almost immediately shut her down. “Was she supposed to?”

You smiled, “Yes. I told her to ask you about your favourite Star Trek episode.”

Art grinned, you were still playing interference. He wondered why. “I brushed her off… I didn’t think anything of it I was on my way out.” He grimaced a little and you looked up from your nails, trying not to laugh. “I don’t think I was too rude…”

“Where were you off to in such a hurry?”

“You- And Patrick.” He saved himself. “I had someplace to be! Plus, she’s not really my type.”

“And what is that type? Girls with purple fingernails, maybe?” You laughed- Art wondered what you meant by that because at this very moment there was nothing you said that had ever been more true. “Your future girlfriend is going to hate me.” You followed up. Art’s heart sunk just a little at that. You then mumbled something under your breath that Art didn’t catch.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

Art caught up a bit with Patrick, who was interested to hear that his daughter was just getting into tennis, but really liked ballet. Patrick himself had still not settled down, but he’d landed a good job adn was now making decent money, enough to find himself a good apartment. He talked about this girl he’d met at the mechanic and Art didn’t mind the tale of it all, but he did glance around every few minutes to see if maybe you’d be nearby or even come to speak to them. They way you’d left things he wondered if you’d say anything to him at all.

It’s not like you left things horribly… But he knew the way things went just weren’t ideal and that was the problem. It was the lack of grace in the process of losing touch.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

“Patrick held both envelopes up. “Saw these on the mail piles, grabbed them before mail day.” He said. You, who had been mindlessly playing with Art’s curls on the couch in the corner of the library, and Art, who was pink from just how intimate the feeling had been, both perked up. Patrick shot a look additional to the excited expression he wore and Art just flipped him off. “They’re yours.”

You and Art looked at each other, Art tilting his head back to do so. Both of you scrambled from where you sat to grab the envelopes Patrick held, huge grin on his face. “Stanford Tennis,” you breathed. Art pressed his lips together. “Acceptance letter?” You questioned. Patrick shrugged, but continued to grin.

Art shook his head, “Should we open them? I mean- same time? Or?”

“I feel sick,” you said, words overlapping his. “Oh my god.” You pressed your hand to your stomach. “I knew they’d be here soon but this is so… late. I was getting scared I wouldn’t get anything, we got something… We got something.”

“Yeah,” Art nodded, big crooked grin on his face. “Together?”

You swallowed, sitting back down, then standing right back up again. “No, you first.”

Patrick sat on the couch, ready to watch both of his friends excitement, arm up on the arm of the couch. “Hurry up!” He kicked Art in the back of the knee and Art didn’t even feel it, opening the big envelope. He narrowly avoided a paper cut. You paced a short distance, back and forth, back and forth anxiously. He unwrapped the papers, eyes scanning over the letter.

“Fuck yeah!” He exclaimed, all too loud for the library. He didn’t care though. “I’m in!”

You gasped and your grin was the first thing Art looked for. Your arms up and around his neck, so excited for him. “That’s amazing, I’m so so proud of you!” You exclaimed, also so loud. Art’s arms around your waist, squeezing you tight as you kissed his cheek enthusiastically. Patrick was there to clap him on the back, hugging Art when you let go. Art was glad for it- it helped hide how pink he went from just the kiss on the cheek. You were jumping up and down and you were beautiful and you were happy. It would be one of the last times Art saw you so happy.

“What about you?” He gestured to your envelope and you looked down at it like you’d forgotten you were holding it.

“I- I can’t, one of you has to do it,” you said. It was for sure. You’d met with the faculty there, the coaches, you were scouted two years ago when you weren’t even old enough to apply and the second you knew you loved tennis you knew Stanford was the best place for you. Patrick took your envelope for you, opening it as you nervously bit your lip, swaying into Art, letting your fingers intertwine with his just to have something to brace yourself. He squeezed your hand, smiling at his own acceptance, knowing that if anyone had it in the bag was you. But Patrick read it over and there wasn’t a grin- in fact the smile he did have fell just in the slightest. Art felt your hand squeeze his harder.

“What is it?” You asked. Art looked at Patrick, who then looked up at you with sorry eyes. “Patrick?”

“You’re- um-” he paused another moment and handed you the papers. “Waitlisted. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Art watched your colour drain. The obvious bright light you brought by just entering a room dimmed as you read it yourself. Art could feel the slight tremor in your fingers, so he squeezed your hand as hard as he could, just so in the new wave of overwhelming sadness, you’d know he was still there. He felt guilty for celebrating so soon.

“I’m waitlisted.” You repeated, monotone. “And not even until next semester. Next year. And even then there’s no guarantee.”

Art didn’t wait another second, he used the hand he held to pull you in. You didn’t resist, you couldn’t, you felt limp as Art wrapped his arms around you. Patrick’s hand on your back for just a moment, but Art’s hand on the back of your head and the other running up and down your back. His crush on you was unaffected by this hug because he knew that you needed it more than anything. You were the one with the plans, you were the one who knew exactly how things would play out and Stanford was the first step on every path you’d imagined. Knowing you so long, both boys knew you were right to cry.

Art held you, standing, for as long as you needed- his arms around you stayed tight and didn’t waiver once in the thirty minutes you stayed there. He was quiet, Patrick was just cursing Stanford for being fucking stupid and though Art agreed with him on that, because who in their right minds would look at your grades and your tennis stats and say they didn’t want you? Who wouldn’t want you?

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

When Art saw you from across the room it felt like he was eighteen again. He’d anticipated feeling nostalgic for a time, but you were there and you were in purple, like Patrick said and he knew it was you from the smile you wore, reuniting with what looked to be a very-pregnant Abbey Campbell. Good for her, Art though, seeing past the bump and looking at you. Patrick was right- you’d aged like fine wine or whatever that saying was, but you were still youthful and you were still… bright.

“You should talk to her,” Patrick said, noticing where Art’s eyes had landed. As if he hadn’t been watching Art scan every five minutes during their conversation. “You haven’t seen her since…”

“September 2006,” Art replied, looking at Patrick.

“Have you kept in touch at all, or?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well fuck.”

“Yeah,” Art nodded, eyes not leaving you. You were different, older, for sure but not in ways noticeable. Many of the men in the room had grown into bigger bodies and were either unfortunately balding or had already gone bald for some. Mid-thirties you wouldn’t think it, but it was there. And you were there, looking youthful and bright and you were still one of the prettiest girls in the room. Women… in the room. He gestured to you, eyes not leaving you, scared to lose track of where you were. “I’m going to-”

“Good luck.” Patrick pat Art on the back to send him off and Art, drink in hand from his stop by the food table, walked over to you, ignoring everyone who wanted his attention this time.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- past

“You’re not telling her at graduation? You’re fucking joking.” Patrick said, shoving Art back onto his bed as the boys got dressed for one of their last classes at MRTA. “How fucking stupid are you, you can’t just not tell her.”

“I tell her and I ruin our friendship while I get to go to Stanford in the fall. I can’t do that to her.”

“You sound like a fucking idiot,” Patrick said.

“Okay, yeah, maybe, but even if I tell her and it goes well, we would only have the summer before I move all the way to fucking California. You’ll be on tour and this whole… thing would just be broken. And fucked up. I don’t want her for a summer, Patrick. I want her all the time, every day, like it was supposed to fucking be. I don’t want her for just a summer.” Art huffed, looking at his hands. The whole waitlisting bullshit threw a wrench in everything. Everything.

“You’d rather not have her at all?”

“I-” he flailed his hands around, “I don’t know! I don’t know how to tell her something like that and then move away.”

Patrick shrugged, “Could just kiss her.”

Art opened his mouth to speak and a knock on the door cut him off. Art pulled his shirt over his head as Patrick lunged to open it. It was you. Who else?

“You guys want to cut class?” You asked, arms folded over your chest, mouth pulled a little to the side, standing in your shorts and tank top, not dressed for class at all. Your hair was behind your ears, your lips just slightly glossy and you had that slight sparkle to your eyelids, but it was never too much. He would never get over just how beautiful you were, never ever. “I don’t feel like going today and I just want to do something fun or maybe even nothing?”

“That sounds great, but I actually was looking forward to doubles today…” Patrick groaned, putting a hand aside his head. Art knew him well enough to know Patrick was not looking forward to doubles. “But Art already has all his credits, I think he can stay. I’ll come back before dinner though?”

You nodded slightly and looked to Art, who still had his mouth a little open at the sudden position he was in. “Would you? I really don’t feel like going but I can just skip and meet you guys for dinner?”

Art nodded back at you, slowly. Patrick was playing wingman with expectations this time. ‘Could just kiss her,’ echoed around his head. He made eye contact with Patrick who, out of your line of sight, shot Art a telling look. He was giving Art a window. But skipping with you, being alone with you wouldn’t change the fact that when September came you’d be states away, alone, probably. The long distance would be hard and he knew he could maintain the friendship, but if he confessed and it went well, the long distance of a new relationship would probably kill him. And you. “Yeah, I’ll stay.” Art said.

When Patrick left for class, you came into their room and sat down on Art’s bed, next to him. You weren’t exactly yourself, the way you sat with your arms crossed and lacked that gorgeous smile Art looked forward to every day. You sat so close he could smell the sweetness of your perfume. “You okay?” he asked, looking at you with his head a little tilted, smiling gently.

“I can’t get the Stanford thing out of my head,” You admit. Art nodded. You’d been good about it. It upset you, he knew that it absolutely killed you, but you didn’t talk about it much- for Art’s sake, not wanting to depress him and Patrick with your delayed dream. “I know it’s stupid, I’m only waitlisted a year, but it was supposed to be different. They said I was a shoo-in, how could they say that and not mean it?” You vented. Art heard every word.

“They’re missing out for sure.” He said, hand sliding over your knee to rest just above it. “And Patrick is right- they’re fucked in the head and you deserved that place in the program more than anyone else.”

“Even if I deserved it, even if they’re fucked in the head, I’m still not going and that’s whats killing me.” You said, looking at him with sad eyes. He missed when they were full of light and happiness. “You know, it was supposed to be us. And now it’s not and I don’t know what I’m going to do without you- And Patrick.” Was Art mishearing or was there a pause? And us? Us. “I just feel so stupid and I’m suddenly so lost? I knew exactly what was coming and then it just stopped coming. And I’m terrified that I’m going to lose you both when we all go separate ways.”

“Couldn’t lose me.” Art said, eyes locked on yours. “I might be in California, but I have a phone. And it has a ringer and we have email and facebook and I don’t think I’d even know how to go a day without talking to you, so you know if you didn’t call, I would.” He said, admitting a little too much. “Patrick too, I bet.”

“I love that,” you smiled just a bit. “I just… I was so ready for things to change, but now I’m not. Even if I call you a hundred times in a day, would it feel the same?”

Art looked at the hand he had on your leg, at his thumb as it moved back and forth over your skin. “Probably not… But it would be the best thing until you come and visit. Or when I come home on holiday. It would just be to fill the spaces between, you know that the distance would mean nothing once we’re all together again.”

You looked down. “I know. I just don’t want it.” You sighed, leaning your head against Art’s shoulder. Art could smell your shampoo, it was soft and just as sweet as your perfume. “I’d just... I hate the idea of having to miss you. Distance fucking sucks.” You added. He agreed. Distance would suck. But right now you were here, next to him. He wouldn’t kiss you, he knew that. Not now.

But he turned his body just slightly and wrapped his arms around you, your head moving to just under his chin, resting against his chest. And he held you tight, he always would. And he didn’t resist his other urge, slowly tilting himself back so that he was laying down. You didn’t protest, you just held onto him tighter, laying next to him. Like most things between you two, they went unspoken. You in his arms, in his bed, god it was so telling but you didn’t say a thing. And neither did Art, aside from, “I don’t want it either.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

You didn’t seem to notice when he approached. You were heavily invested in your conversation with your friend, laughing and gesturing and you were even more beautiful up close. He could admit it to himself, he was amazed by how well-preserved you’d been. He maybe was expecting a bit of a grey streak, he remembered your mom being fully grey when you were only a teenager, but your hair was perfect. He was just a little bit to the side, in Abbey’s line of sight and she saw Art first, she looked happy to see him, he noted. Too happy for someone with a baby on the way. She put her hands up in the air like she meant anything to him and you looked over at him, seeing what Abbey was so delighted to see and for the first time in fifteen years, you locked eyes with Art.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- interlude

Art remembered the last time you looked at him. Confused eyes, sad ones, the ones he hated seeing, the ones he knew he caused. It wasn’t supposed to be the way it was. Your best friend felt like he just… wasn’t that anymore. Missed texts to missed calls after promises of hundreds in a day felt like lack of care. And it wasn’t on your end. When Art missed your calls, you stopped looking at your phone so much and you missed his. You visited him twice at Stanford, within the first few months and it was the same but he was so busy. So distracted, it seemed. You met Patrick’s girlfriend, Tashi Duncan and the only thought in your mind was that she looked at Art strangely. So when things unravelled, you asked him things and he answered honestly, leaving out the part that he knew went against his character. He was looking at you, thinking about how he should have kissed you at the airport before going to California but he was looking at a girl who wouldn’t kiss him. Not anymore.

And he missed you like he missed no one- when you stopped responding to his emails and Facebook posts. Your last post was October 4th, 2006, and it was a picture of you at a coffee shop you were beautiful, but Art was so lost on the guy next to you. He should have kissed you at that airport but he was tangled in this mess of Tashi who he had admittedly used to try and not miss you so much when you posted with one of your new guy friends, who you did not like romantically. But Art didn’t know that. He didn’t know how badly it hurt when you traveled to California to find him completely happy and distracted in a new life with new friends and forget that you were coming to visit. That hurt. He should have kissed you at the airport when he could before all of these things crashed and collided and brought you down. He was at fault, but you forgave him, you just didn’t speak again.

Patrick said it was fine, you’d come around. Art’s mom told him that you called to check in on her, but that growing apart does happen. He would ask himself how in the world did he end up growing apart from you. You of all people, but admittedly it was his own fault. These things just happen, distance ruins things.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ- present

But there wasn’t much distance now. You were standing in front of him. Your expression didn’t change- it was a gentle smile upon laying eyes on him. Abbey asked him how he was and just like years ago, he brushed her off with a ‘would you excuse me?’ and passed her, sheepishly walking over to you.

“Hi, Art,” you said, head slightly tilted, lips pulled into that smile he hadn’t seen in years. Art felt shy around it, he hated that, but he was happy to see it. And you.

“Hi,” he replied.

You gestured to Abbey, “Reminds me of something.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” he replied with a small chuckle. “I-um… How are you?”

“I’m doing okay,” you nodded. Art found himself glancing for a ring on your finger or maybe a baby bump he missed, but nothing. You were doing okay. “Oh, no ring.” You said, holding up your hand. “Wasn’t so lucky. How are you?”

He shook his head, still a little dazed that you were here in front of him, talking to him like you hadn’t gone fifteen years without doing so. “Not so bad.”

“That implies that there’s some bad,” you nodded, leaning against the wall. Your dress reminded him of another you’d worn. “Not so bad?”

“I’m okay…” He said. “Just… I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.” As if he hadn’t spent every moment since RSVP-ing thinking about seeing you again. Finally seeing you again.

“Oh,” you nodded, understanding. “No, I get that. I didn’t think you’d come. Thought maybe you were busy winning some grand slam, too far ahead than the rest of us. It was a good win, your last big game in Chicago.”

“You kept up,”

“I couldn’t not. I’m not me if not nosey and that aside, your name all over everything tennis-related- billboards, even. You and Tashi.”

“You must have heard about the separation, then?”

“On the tennis new channel, surprisingly. Fuck them for making that public, and I am sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He replied, eyes not leaving yours. “It just wasn’t working out. She cheated.” He admitted, which he hated. Something about your eyes was a well-working trap for him to fall back into the exact boy he used to be in your presence. He wanted to tell you everything, he forgot what it felt like to be around you. But you weren’t different at all. You were still that same warm, caring girl you used to be.

“Art, I’m so sorry, that’s terrible. Nobody deserves that.” You said, eyes soft. Beautiful.

“It’s in the past.” He nodded again, looking at the ground. They hadn’t changed the gym floors since you’d left, he noted. They were the same. “Thank you, though. I actually, um, I have a daughter, though.”

“Lily,” you smiled. “I’m nosey, I told you. Is she much like you?”

“I think so.” He smiled back. You knew his daughter’s name and you knew about the divorce yet he had no idea what you’d been up to. “So, are you… working, are you…”

“I am.” You nodded. “I teach children with special needs how to play tennis, it’s a great job. Lots of fundraisers and events. It’s really lovely.” Art remembered when you were younger. You’d mentioned something of the sort- doing that. He couldn’t help but wonder if you had joined a company or made one. But he wouldn’t ask, the small talk was already killing him. “About your daughter though, I’d love to know more.”

He wanted to know more about you but he liked to talk about Lily and her hobbies and habits. It felt good to talk to you again as you engaged with him as if fifteen years was three months. It was strange, but the feeling of being around you and your light again, it was easy to brush it all off. Like he was eighteen and you were an addictive happiness. You were smiling as he spoke about his daughter. You were smiling so much that he had to stop at one point, unable to hide his own smile. “What?”

Your eyes went a little wide, but you kept smiling, shaking your head. “Oh, nothing. I just… I always knew you’d be a girl dad. And you seem like a good one.”

“Always knew?”

“Oh yeah, I think I first thought about it in grade ten… A girl knows these things.” You said. Your body language changed slightly, you tilted your head to the door. “Hm- Do you still smoke?”

“Do you?”

“When I need to.” You said. “It’s not a habit, it’s an occasional thing. Come with me?”

Art was surprised by the offer. But how could anyone say no to you? He nodded and followed you out. You stopped outside your car, a decent distance away from the building and hopped on the trunk, sitting like you would so many years ago. Your car was nice, so you must make good money, he noted.

“How are you really?” You asked Art, eyes genuine as you lit the cigarette. Art, focused on you, didn’t know how to answer that. He was wondering how you weren’t someone’s wife or mother because even after all these years, he couldn’t find flaw in you. Not one. You were still sweet and kind and lovely and you looked amazing, so how did nobody find you and keep you? You asked him how he really was as if you still saw through him. “You’re really doing okay?”

Art took the cigarette as you passed it to him. “I’m okay. It wasn’t easy- any of it, but it happened and it’s in the past.”

“That’s good.” You said, watching him take a drag. The soft wind blew your hair around your face. “I am sorry about what happened, it sounds awful. I had to check in, really check in. But that aside, you’ve really made a name for yourself out there. Big games, high stakes and a good reputation.”

Art nodded, eyes on the ground as he inhaled again and passed the cigarette back. Something about being here with you was surreal. You’d kept up and he had no way to do the same. “Thank you. I planned on retiring three years ago, but second wind came around. I plan on retiring next year, thinking about starting to coach.”

“You’d be a good coach,” you nodded, smoke blowing out from between your perfect lips.

“Maybe…” He started. Silence.

You nodded, “You’re thinking about the elephant in the… parking lot.” You said, looking around.

“I might be,” he replied, straightening himself out. “It’s been fifteen years and you’ve not said a word to me since… And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it. I’ve had a lot of time to.” Art rolled up his sleeves. You watched. “Fifteen years.”

“I know,” you replied, quiet. “But you have had an amazing career and you married the girl I was so worried about, had a daughter. Your life has been exactly what you wanted, that’s amazing. Could it have been the same with me in it?” Art wished it was you in it. “So I let time be time and do it’s thing, I know it’s been fifteen years.”

Art shook his head, “It couldn’t have been a space thing. Maybe I needed the space, but it was bound to exist anyway. We were best friends, you, me, Patrick- and Stanford changed things but you didn’t have to walk away. My life has been my life but it’s not that way because you walked away.”

You chuckled, “I know that. And I am beyond proud of you either way, but me, eighteen years old and in love with you? Showing up after a month of planning and you forgot I was even coming? Just about broke me. And of course, there was Tashi and-” You had more to say but Art felt all of his thoughts come to a halt. His fingers felt cold. He interrupted you-

“In love with me? You were in love with me?”

You laughed, so genuine, the sound was something he had missed sorely. “That’s even a question? Oh, I was so young, but I was very much in love with you. Patrick would never let me forget it. I had such a crush on you. You… you didn’t know?” You covered your mouth as you laughed, but Art felt a little bit frozen, but it was easy to laugh with you.

“I didn’t know, no.”

“So the fifteen years is because after you broke my little eighteen-year-old heart, I took the time to recover and I just… never did.” You admit, handing him back the cigarette, which he took without looking at. He was only seeing you. Part of him was kicking himself hard, angry that he hadn’t confessed when he had planned, knowing now, so many fucking years later than if he had said what he wanted to, he might have had you. There were the complications, but if he had you, there wouldn’t have been a Tashi situation. And in his mind he watched the possibilities unravel his life as he knew it- knowing that it could have been you. It could have been you. “As sorry as I am about it, I don’t regret it. You have an amazing-sounding daughter and the life that you and I used to talk about, going pro… And I have a job that I only got through staying on this side of things. If I was in California, I wouldn’t have met the sweet lady who started the company I own now.”

He hated that you were right. But he hated it more that he could have had everything he really wanted- the things you and him talked about- and it could have been with you. A house, a marriage, a child? The things he really wanted. He couldn’t bring himself to feel regret, but it was something close to the feeling. “I understand. I just- you liked me? Patrick knew?” His whole adult demeanour was destroyed by your youthful smile.

“He would play wingman,” you said. “It was awful, but it was still fun. And I think I should tell you, though it feels wrong, that I missed you. And I am sorry I didn’t reach out. It was too much.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he nodded back. “I missed you too. A lot. It took a while to get over what happened, but it’s been good…”

“I’m glad,” you replied. The cigarette was almost at it’s end. And for a while you just stared at each other. The words unsaid filled the air until it was almost suffocating. He could have had you. If he had said something. If he’d kissed you at the airport. Tashi might have been Patrick’s. Art hated to think about a world without his daughter but it was you. It was always going to be you no matter how many years passed. “I hate to ask this for the sake of my phrasing, but… no hard feelings?”

Art smiled down at his feet, hands back in his pockets, “No, no hard feelings.” He replied. “And for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you too.”

You smiled that beautiful smile, the wind blowing your hair a little more. There was something so painting-like about this moment. It could be frozen in time, he wished it could be, and he made a mental note to engrave this image of you in his mind. You were just as gorgeous as the day you left and sure, it hurt to think about a little bit, especially all of the ‘what if’s, but you were here now. And there were no hard feelings. How could he ever have any toward you? It was you.

“You want to head back in?” You asked, digging a foldable toothbrush out of your purse along with a tiny tube of toothpaste.You truly not changed much in your ways. Art wondered if you remembered the last time you’d brought a little toothbrush and toothpaste out. He dug in his own pocket and pulled out his pack of mint gum. He noticed the way your eyes widened at the parallel. But then you just grinned, starting to laugh as you half-brushed your teeth, half giggled. Art chuckled too, popping a piece in his mouth. And the laughter lasted a while. It was like you were the same giddy teenagers who wouldn’t tell each other their biggest secret. But eventually it died down and you headed back inside.

The moment you were inside, he noticed the song playing. So did you. You stood there for a moment, not looking at anyone but him. The Cranberries playing loud over dusty speakers. The only Cranberries song you ever liked, Art remembered. You couldn’t stand the voice cracks in the one about zombies… He was a little confused when you held your hand out, but when you smiled, he remembered. In the spirit of parallels, you were asking him to dance. He remembered the promise he made you, he wouldn’t forget it. He had pinkie promised and you swore to make him regret it, but he never got the chance to. You never gave him a real reason to.

“You pinkie promised.” You said, tilting your head just in the slightest. “You swore.” You said it a little sing song. Fifteen years forgotten- they didn’t exist. You were here and you were asking him to dance with you.

“I did,” he said, smiling, hands still in his pockets. And he did take your hand and with a youthful giggle, you pulled him to the dance floor. It was one of those songs where you could scream the lyrics, you could spin and you could maybe even jump, but you just stayed close. Art wasn’t sure what exactly to do, but it was okay. You led at first, swaying just a little to get him into it. He grinned, unable to stop it. Fifteen years felt like seconds, like you never even left. Like you were those same young best friends dancing around your feelings, your truth. And you were so beautiful, spinning and swaying and your dress following you as you did. You laughed and it was melodious, you were so unaware of the eyes on you, of Patrick’s eyes. They met Art’s from across the room and a knowing smile spread up his old friend’s face. He raised his drink in their direction and Art nodded back.

Time might have made Art a little bit harder, colder, but you made him right back into who he used to be before life existed. Your light was brighter than the strobes spinning the walls of the room. You got him into it with a nearly-sixteen-year-old promise. The music loud, but just dull enough to hear you. Art was drawn back into you like you were a magnet. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have you. That he didn’t get that life with you. But you were here and you were still so perfect.

The dancing had somehow melted itself into something slower, though the pace of the song didn’t change. It was almost a hug, the way his hand slipped around your waist. It felt familiar and you… smelled the same way you used to. So sweet. Your arms around his neck, close to him. It wasn’t even a thought in either one of your brains that you ended up this way, but it felt right and you just did it, so that’s how you were. Swaying, like a slow dance, and the end of the song rolled around, the music dulling to only an instrumental.

You pulled away just a little, your faces just a little bit close. “I think it’s best we went our separate ways. It would have killed to me to stay your friend and watch you and Tashi’s life in person rather than in pictures.” You said quietly. “And if I’m honest I think I might still be a little bit in love with you.”

Art met your eyes at your confession. You looked like you regret what you said, but the concern in your eyes changed, eased. You could still read his expression. “I did love you too, you know.”

“I know.” You smiled. He grinned a little sheepishly, his grin still the same. His eyes were soft and he looked at you like he always did. Such a familiar gaze. “And I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“For still feeling the way I do. After what I did.”

“You’re not alone in it.” He admit with a small chuckle. And you giggled. And it felt like nothing else existed in the entire universe. Just you. Just him. He wasn’t blunt, but it was definitely still said. It really could ever only be you, no matter what. Even with Tashi, it was always you. A first love that could never truly be erased, despite the countless mistakes and sins of youth. It hadn’t worked, but looking at you now, he had that hope again. That it might.

You just continued to sway to the music. The promise to dance whenever you asked fulfilled. There was peace in saying what was left unsaid for so many years. There was peace in feeling it still. Feeling how he did about you was the most consistent thing in his entire life. He wasn’t who he had to be with Tashi, he was who he truly was with you. His big career in hindsight, his past with Tashi, his life that didn’t include you was behind him.

Patrick did wander over when the song ended. He came and stood beside you both, the lip of his bottle resting against his mouth. You and Art shared a look before you left the position you were in, hands slipping back to your sides. He was grinning a sly grin. A familiar one from back in the day. Knowing.

You just tsked, “You need to shave.” You said. Patrick just grinned, laughed.

“You too.”

“Really?” You laughed. “Okay, I see how it is.”

Art chuckled. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss this. As much as he wanted just you and him, the three of you together were something entirely different. Who wouldn’t miss the better days? The three of you got a little more caught up, Patrick was free to reveal his position as a double agent in your teenaged slowburn that never really fizzled out… You and Art didn’t mention anything said during that dance, but he knew without being told. Everyone who knew you both knew that you belonged together. The night was still young, but Patrick lowered his voice. “I have an ounce in the car.” He said, shrugging. The three of you shared a look and in minutes the three of you were hiking across the schoolyard. Adults. Stupid adults with stupid nostalgia, laughter echoing across the empty courts as you all walked down the hill.

Art moved the dead leaves and under it was still that circle of rocks. The dirt had somewhat filled it, but it was still a bit of a divot. And the logs had thinned out but they were still there. You sat next to Art like you always would. You turned your body to face him and you just looked at him, studying the way his face had changed, his hair… but it was still very much so the boy you’d loved years ago. He looked over at you and he smiled and it was a reflection of so many years ago. The exact same spots, the exact same people, the same reason to sneak away.

You had hoped you hadn’t overstepped. You didn’t come to the reunion to say what you said, but it was right. And you knew Art felt the same. He said so. The three of you stayed and talked for hours like nothing ever changed. Time could never truly change the three of you. No matter who fucked who, who married who, who went where, who did what. It was always you. It would always be you. And that aside- you and Artwould figure that out- it would always be the three of you. Proven by your very own lives.

taglist: @swetearss @lalalandofive @xoxog0ssipg1rl @bayleequits @reallycreativeusername @kaaaiiaaa

334 notes · View notes

poppyflower-22 · 7 months ago

Text

Lando Norris

(These are just small discerptions that explain the one shot or parts as shortly as possibly)

Fluff:

Sad, but good sad. Schumacher reader. HERE

A series of events after Lando becomes a dad. HERE

Lando finds out he hooked up with the daughter of the USA. Humor. Lando shitting his pants. HERE

Oscar and Logan feel betrayed when they find out their gird parents hid a secret family from them. Humor. Social media. HERE

Lando was late to his games session because he was picking reader up. HERE

You and Lando being THE TikTok couple. Slight social media. HERE

Fans gets glance of reader and Lando's relationship on stream. HERE

Social Media:

Lando and Schumacher reader. HERE

Lando and Russel reader. HERE

Lando thirsting over his girlfriend any chance he can get. HERE

Lando gets arrested for assaulting someone that assaulted his girlfriend. HERE

Lando and reader's sex tape gets leaked. Humor. Part 1. HERE, Part 2, Feat Oscar, HERE

A twitter thread showing Lando can't do anything without readers help, and the one time she needed his help and exposed their engagement. HERE

You're a booktuber, always posting your books and of course your boyfriend. HERE

Lando dating Leclerc reader. HERE

People think you and Lando aren't dating after saying you are. Driver reader. Part 1. HERE. Part 2 HERE

Going on different dates with Lando. HERE

In which Lando has the perfect girlfriend, everyone loves. Feat. Lilly being in love with reader. Humor. HERE

Their post breakup era is them shading each other. Drivers hating on Lando. Humor. Part 1, HERE Part 2, Them pretending they're not back together. HERE

Carlos cheated on his girlfriend, Lando gets with her, and everyone loves them more. HERE

Leclerc reader and Lando are dating but her brothers want him to stay 6 feet then 12 feet apart from her. Part 1, HERE, Part 2, HERE.

Verstappen reader releases a song that makes her fans get mad at Lando. Humor. HERE

Lando is a mega fan of reader. So much he has a fan account and then he gets discovered. Humor. HERE

Daniel realizing he is his cousin and Lando's biggest third wheel. HERE

A thread on how Lando and reader fell in love and how oblivious they are. HERE

Lando is dating the royal princess. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE. Part 3, HERE

When Red Bull didn't want to let her design their car, she found a team that would. Newey reader. HERE

Lando and Reader are couple goals but don't want Oscar to feel left out. HERE

Reader is the mother of the grid, but when a football player makes a move. Lando strikes. HERE

When Lando is spotted with a woman that is his cousin, Lando confesses to his best friend that has been ignoring him. HERE

Lando's girlfriend works as a biologist. He hates fish and they took his girlfriend. Humor. HERE

Reader and Lando host the end of year grid dinner on their farm. A tale of the events. HERE

In The Middle:

Max thinks his sister and Lando's relationship is inappropriate, but he soon finds that them apart isn't much better. Hurt/Comfort. HERE

Lando helps his neighbor from her toxic ex. Part 1. HERE. Part 2. HERE

Lando forgets his date with his girlfriend making her rethink their relationship. Hurt/Comfort. HERE

Lando saves you from a stranger after you called. Hurt/Comfort. HERE

Max was your ex, and now he wants your back. You're with Lando now. possessive Lanod. HERE

Lando and Horner reader have been hooking up, she ignores him after pictures are online. Didn't sleep with anyone. Buys her a Birkin when Carlos spills, she might be seeing someone. Happy ending. HERE.

People think reader is using Lando for his money. He knows that's not true. HERE

Reader is an introvert. Hurt/Comfort. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE

Polly/Charles & Lando:

Not a Verstappen, Max's sister that's a driver and gets into a relationship with Charles and Lando. Lots of parts. Link is the end of serries. Smut. HERE (My favorite series)

Reader, Lando and Charles. Out and open relationship. Social Media. HERE

Lando & Oscar:

Fellings are reveled after Lando places last in qualifying when Oscar and reader comfort him. Smut. HERE

Typical morning with your boyfriends. HERE

A Lando Oscar masterlist. HERE

Lando and Oscar dating a med student. Social Media. HERE

Lando exposing his relationship with Raeder and Oscar. HERE

Series:

Lando getting higher on Leclerc reader drivers list. But reader ends up falling in love with him. The best series. Some Social Media. HERE

Lando helps his dead teammates wife after his death. Smut HERE

Reader is Mark Webber's daughter and doesn't tell Lando scared. Part 1, HERE. Part 2, HERE. Part 3, HERE. Part 4, HERE. Part 5, HERE

Dark/Possessive:

Dark series about Lando and his neighbor. Smut. HERE

Nieve reader. Lando won't let anyone in the way. Smut HERE

Possessive/ Dark Lando with Leclerc reader. HERE

Lando was bad for you, but you couldn't resist. Smut HERE (User dose dark and possessive Lando)

Shot. Lando Mafia. Single mother. HERE

Smut:

Lando wins his first Grand Prix. HERE

Lando has a bad race and fucks reader against his car. HERE

Reader and Lando have different ideas of working out. HERE

Racing simulator. Part 1. HERE. Part 2. HERE

In which Lando hooks up with a woman in Vagas and can't get her out of his mind, until they meet again. HERE

Lando can't help but keep going back to her. Happy ending. HERE

He can't be quiet while on vacation with friends. HERE

Watching Lando work out makes you hot and bothered. HERE

A bunch of smut list. HERE

Doing it in the kitchen. HERE

A list of smut. HERE

Riding Lando in his car. HERE

Six months of married bliss. HERE

Riding Lando in his gaming chair. HERE

Filming a movie. Giddy Lando. HERE

Lando and reader like the appeal of making children. HERE

Another making a movie. Capturing the moment. HERE

Lando teasing the reader while they are in Australia. Reader being needy for him. HERE

Lando can't help but see how good his girlfriend looks and fucks her in the club bathroom on New Year's Eve. HERE

Lando and reader spend the night celebrating the las Vagas Grand Prix. HERE

Manhandling, obsessed Lando who breeds reader. HERE

Reader knowns how to treat her boy. Breast Kink. HERE

Lando posts a picture by accident while doing the deed. HERE

Lando has a bad race. Helmet on. HERE

No protection for the first time and Lando loses it. HERE

Family Vacation. HERE

Lando gives his sweet girlfriend an award for being his lucky charm. HERE

Only having fifteen minutes after Lando lands a podium. Part 1. HERE. Part 2. You're going to celebrate, even if the world was determined to get in the way. HERE

She robbed him of victory, so Lando retaliated and rewarded her at the same time. HERE

Best friend brother. Sainz reader. HERE

<><><><><>

#lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #charles leclerc x reader x lando norris #f1 x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #dark lando norris #dark lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader x oscar piastri #landoscar x reader

423 notes · View notes

worlds-end-landmine · 15 days ago

Text

12/12/24

Landmine Media Archive Project / "The Minefield" ?

I'm back!! After making the first post, I spent this week speedrunning my schoolwork so I could have time to dedicate to this. Sorry, I'm very slow working on this!

READ MORE CONTENTS:

* Current list of media * Form for requests! * (Hopefully working) Links to the folder!

AT THE MOMENT THE FOLDER HAS:

Tomorrow I'll Be Someone's Girlfriend Live Action (JAPANESE SUBTITLES/NO SUBS)

MANGA

(*manga is saved as images for each page. will figure out soon how to make these pdfs ... maybe epub too)

Tomorrow I'll Be Someone's Girlfriend

MUSIC

4s4ki - おまえのドリームランド (Your Dreamland)

4s4ki - Here or Hell

4s4ki - Your Neverland

4s4ki - 遺影にイェーイ (Yay for Posthumous Photos)

Takayan - Want a boyfriend

Takayan - 2019-2021 Singles

Takayan - Bad Example

Takayan - Summary of single songs for 2020

Takayan - BEST OF 2019

Takayan - Happiness and correct answer

Neo - Love Bound by Chains

Neo - My One True Love / Honmei

Neo - Feelings Melt into the Night

Pien Big Four - Only you won!

Pien Big Four - I'm No. 1 in Life ~ You're a supporting character ~

MARETU - SIU

MARETU - Coin Locker Baby

MARETU - フライドアイ (Fried Eye)

Tuyu - It's Raining After All

Tuyu - I'll Put You in Misery

Tuyu - Under Mentality

Kairiki Bear - Darling Syndrome

GAMES

Needy Girl Overdose

Hookah Haze

Sentimental Death Loop

(* Currently trying to get Petit Game collection as I write this. Also, I'm aware of Love Angel Syndrome. But that is FREE unless you donate and came out too recently for my moral compass. So any requests for Love Angel Syndrome will not be acknowledged.)

LINE ASSETS

3 Jirai Girl Stickers (I have the rest on my phone I'll add to computer soon)

Excited Lethargy Girl

Vampire Girl Umehara

Deco*27 The Vampire

Deco*27 Rabbit Hole

REQUEST FORM

I will be taking the time to check each of @/jirai-info-archive's lists from the original post reblogs. But of course, if they already mentioned it: feel free to still request it! High demand leads to quicker results, right?

WANT TO START STEALIN' ?

VIA GOOGLE DRIVE :HERE!

VIA SOULSEEK (safe space in case mega takes it down) : @ clvn____4084

#claire.txt #minefield.txt #jiraiblr #jiraiblogging #jirai kei #jirai onna #jirai #jirai girl #menhera

150 notes · View notes

dannyriccsupremacy · 11 months ago

Text

now that we don't talk | CL16

| charles leclerc x fem!exgf!reader smau

| summary : charles doesn't do enough to keep his girlfriend and when the internet finds out, they are less than happy.

| faceclaim : christina nadin

| part one here ! part three here !

liked by yourbff, landonorris + 88,634 others

youruser i was so shocked i dropped my @sacreskin out of the bathtub

view all 12,732 comments

yourbff i wonder why you were so shocked 🤔

↳ youruser im not sure whatsoever i dont know why

↳ francisca.cgomes sweetie what are you hiding from us?

user shes had such a glow up since the break up

user post charles glow!

user you're so pretty!

user sacre literally saved my skin!! thank you 💋

↳ youruser omg im so happy for you!

bellahadid i love sacre!

liked by youruser, charles_leclerc + 20,265 others

sacreskin new products dropping soon! as modelled by our lovely founder @youruser

view all 2,076 comments

user charles, bby, why are you in the likes?

user what is charles doing here?

user shoo charles shoo

youruser i'm so excited for this drop! you're all going to love it!

↳ user girly why is charles here

yourbff this is the cream she dropped on the floor outside the bathtub

↳ user yn being exposed by bff once again

user i will go broke spending all my money on them.

yn was getting ready to go to dinner with her bff, when she heard a sudden knok at the door. glancing at the time, she assumed it was her bff, who was just extremely early- probably to get ready together. they pounded on the door again, becoming impatient.

"yeah, coming. calm your farm!" yn called, making her way to the door.

she wasn't looking at the door as she opened it, trying to dig through her makeup bag to find her beauty blender. as they walked through the door, yn actually glanced up at them, "charlie? what are you doing here?"

he continued walking through the hallway, taking in yn's new home, "you just let me in."

she followed behind him, ditching her makeup bag, "i wouldn't have if i knew it was you!"

"oh come on, yn, we both know you would have." charles stopped in her kitchen and turned around to face her.

"i wouldn't of." yn stood her ground.

they stared at each other for a moment, before yn began moving, stopping behind charles and putting both of her hands straight into her back. charles stumbled forward, and turned around, staring at yn with an unbelieving look on his face.

"what was that for?" he exclaimed.

"get out!" yn replied, pointing towards her door.

"i'm not leaving until we talk." charles stood his ground, this time ready for her shove, not moving.

"fine. you have like five minutes. i have plans." yn gave in, pulling out one of her kitchen stools to sit on.

charles followed suit, pulling out the stool next to hers and turning to face her, "i'm sorry."

yn laughed, almost spitting in charles' face.

"i am. i miss the old ways. i miss you. what can we do to fix us?" charles asked, sincerity in his eyes.

"nothing, charlie. there is no 'us' anymore." yn softly replied.

"surely there is something we can do?" charles pleaded, debating whether he should literally get on his hands and knees and beg.

"no charles. we're done-" charles began to speak, cutting her off, by she silenced him with a look, "look, i called my mum and the first thing she said was that 'it was for the best'. i have to remind myself that, the more i gave, you'd want me less. i can't be your friend. it's just better, now that we don't talk."

"you don't mean that." charles muttered, lowering his eyes to his fidgeting hands.

"i do. i don't have to pretend that i want to be on a mega yacht, with important men, who think important thoughts. i'm on my way back to my dignity." yn argued, her voice pulling charles' eyes up to hers.

"yn, i will do anything to fix it. i'm so sorry. it's all my fault. yn, please." charles begged.

"you know i had to tell your friends, the ones we shared dinners and long weekends with?" yn asked, "i had to pretend it was platonic, but we'd just ended."

"yn, i'm willing to do anything to get you back again. just give me one more chance." charles pleaded.

"no. charlie. it's best now that we don't talk." yn raised from her seat and grabbed his hand, which he immediately latched onto. she easily led him away from her kitchen and to her door, leaving him standing in her hallway, but not before planting a kiss on his cheek.

youruser just posted a story!

"he said what?!" your best friend exclaimed, her eyes bascially buldging out of her head.

"what. an. asshole." julia, a girl in the club bathroom added in.

yn and her bff had sat in the club bathroom for the past hour, relaying the story of her afternoon to her bff and the other three women who had sat there to help the pair shit talk charles.

"i think i would've punched him in the face, honestly." chloe scoffed.

"how did he even get your new address?" amelia asked, "is he stalking you?"

yn pondered for a moment, "i think pierre probably gave it to him. but enough about me and my shitty ex. why are you three crying in the club bathroom?"

"the guy i'm talking to right now, he is so not over his ex and he is just like, leading me along." amelia answered, slightly shrugging.

"what is with men and being assholes?" yn shook her head, "you deserve so much better. dump him!"

"he's so hot though!" amelia rebutted.

"hot guys are usually the worst ones." chloe said, earning nods of agreement from the rest of the group.

"you're better than this." your bff assured amelia, placing a comforting hand on her arm. amelia gave a small smile, one that didn't meet her eyes, and nodded.

"come on. let's just get drunk and forget about all the asshole men in this world. in this stupid little tiny country." yn stated, jumping off the counter and clasping her hands.

"unless they buy us drinks." julia added.

"unless they buy us drinks." yn reaffirmed

authors note thank you guys for so much love on my first post, it's actually mad! also thank you for everyone who requested a part 2. idk if this is very good and its not very long, but here we are! also if you want to be tagged please leave a comment!

573 notes · View notes

chipistrate · 1 year ago

Text

Welcome to the Grand Opening of Freddy Fazbears Balloon Circus!

After an array of previous undisclosed incidents at the Mega Pizzaplex, ending with the sudden collapsing of the building due to an unexpected earthquake, Fazbear Enterprise has demolished the old mall and rebuilt a new and improved carnival on the property! But just because the attractions above ground have been overhauled, doesn't mean the secrets beneath the surface have magically disappeared.

Reblogs appreciated!

MANY more rambles about this AU under the cut: would much appreciate if you read them, but there's no obligations!

EVERYTHING HERE IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE!! This AU has just been pieced together by my insane ramblings to my friend over the past few days, so everything in it's early stages of development, and this post is being written VERY late while I'm very sleep deprived and just trying to finish it in time to schedule it! If some things are a bit weird or inconsistent then please keep that in mind! Thank you! :D

Gregory, Vanessa, and Freddy all return to the now renovated lot where the Pizzaplex once stood, having been called back two years after their last failed visit too save a long lost friend, too repair their old creation known at the M.X.E.S after it was suddenly and unexplainably shut down again. Upon entering the new-ish carnival, they'll quickly find it hard to safely look for the entrance to the layers below as the friendly mascot suits above chase after them for being unwanted guests.

Above ground, they're hunted by the mascots- new suits built for both performers and endoskeletons to be able to wear. This night, controlled by corrupted endoskeletons, they've been ordered to chase after the intruders by someone lurking below the carnivals ground. As well as finding the littler animatronics, known as Balloon Babies, to be quite the inconvenience.

Below ground, they're hunted by the old Glamrocks, still functional after all this time, and now under a new threats command that's also trying to keep the 3 star family from reaching M.X.E.S; Vannie. Aka, Cassie. Still here in the ruins of it all, waiting for the her perfect moment to lure the family back in and get her revenge for what they did to her all those years ago.

The mascots are the new faces of the Freddy Fazbears Balloon Circus, their costumes built to be worn by both endoskeletons and actors- but in a safer way than the springlock suits. The actors are used during the day for greeting and interacting with guests, putting on performances, etc etc. While the endoskeletons are used at night as a replacement for security guards and STAFF bots, kindly, but forcefully, escorting any intruders off the premises. Under Vannie's control they, of course, are much less kind and gentle with how they "escort" the 3 star fam out of the carnival.

Balloon Babies are smaller, almost Helpy-like animatronics in appearance, built to keep lost and lonely children happy and entertained while waiting for their guardian to arrive. They can't speak, but they can play song, games, sound effects, blow up balloons with their fingertips, etc etc. They found Gregory after he had been forcefully split up from Vanessa and Freddy by the mascots, and upon the family reuniting, the Balloon Babies more annoying feature kicked in: The Emergency Alert System. Whenever a child they are playing with is approached by an odd looking adult or other figure that seems like they could be a potential threat to the child's safety, whether that be a kidnapper, unfit guardian, bully, etc. the Balloon Babies will use their emergency alert system to call one of the mascots over and deal with the threat, kindly guiding the threat away and bringing the kid to a safer area away from potential danger where they can stay with staff until a proper guardian arrives. The Balloon Babies had decided in their time with Gregory that Vanessa and Freddy were unfit guardians for leaving Gregory scared and alone this late at night, and any time Vanessa and/or Freddy is nearby, their alert system will sound off and call a mascot to their location. The problem, other than the obvious, is that the Balloon Babies are fixated on Gregory. They will always be attracted to him and find their way back to him no matter what, with the only exception being when he's under ground. Which means that, until they can find a way to deactivate or otherwise get rid of these guys, Gregory is forced to be split up from Vanessa and Freddy above ground, and regroup underground.

The only exception is Goldie, a soft yellow version of the Freddy Balloon Baby that doesn't follow the others. Goldie is the only one of the Balloon Babies that can go underground, Vannie specifically programming him to be able to do so. He follows Vannie around and provides her with much needed company, being her only real friend down here besides Roxy. Later on, Gregory will find Goldie, but instead of calling for the mascots whenever Vanessa is near, he'll send out a signal to distract the other Balloon Babies away from Gregory so they won't call for the mascots or overwhelm him. Goldie can tell that Vanessa and Freddy are fit guardians that love Gregory very much, and can also tell that they're afraid of the mascots, though he can't compute why- it's his job to make sure that kids and their families are safe, so he's doing his best to ensure their safety however he can. Later on, Vannie will come looking for her friend after a long period of time of him being away and find him with the 3 star family, causing more conflict between the two parties that Goldie can't understand- Cassie and Gregory are supposed to be friends, aren't they? That's what Cassie said. Friends aren't supposed to fight each other, they're supposed to protect each other. That's what Goldie believes, at least.

Random trivia;

-Gregory, Freddy, and Vanessa have been living together for about 3 years now. 1 year by the time of Ruin, and 2 years after the fact leading up to Balloon Circus.

-Cassie has been gaslit into thinking that all the stuff Dr. Rabbit did was actually Gregory himself with no outside influence, only fueling her want for revenge, not only for the elevator incident, but everyone he hurt. This will affect Gregory greatly(he has not 100% recovered and this Does Not Help).

-Cassie still doesn't fully trust the Mimic, despite being under its influence. She let the M.X.E.S stay up after the 3 star family put it back up after Ruin despite Mimic's demands for her to shut it down again, assuring him it was "part of her plan". She wasn't entirely lying, shutting down the M.X.E.S was how she wanted to lure the family back, but she'd be lying if she said it wasn't also partially because she wanted to keep "that old endo" sealed away. He's not completely free from fault either.

-Gregory and Vanessa both have chips implanted in their heads, it's how Dr. Rabbit and Vanny took over way back when. Those same chips gave them VR vision, but the chips have since been "domesticated" and can't go full VR mode anymore. Despite this fact, they do still have a few side effects of the VR vision, such as some walls and objects simply not existing, despite them looking perfectly normal and real. They can phase through them without trouble, and this helps them navigate the Balloon Circus, becauseeeeeee;

-Cassie was there during the construction of the circus and set up VR walls in certain spaces to help her hide out and travel around undetected, even during the day. The 3 star family can also use these now as an easier way of navigating through the circus, but also as a way to hide from the mascots and even sometimes the Balloon Babies.

-The entrance to the underground levels is behind a VR wall, but it's one set up by the construction workers so the patrons wouldn't notice it. The reason an intentional opening is there is because the new entrance is now used as a dumping ground for stuff from random items from the ruins of the Pizzaplex to unused stuff from the circus to anything the employees with access to the area want to throw in there. It's how the ruined Glamrocks ended up there.

-The Glamrocks were being slowly reintroduced to the public, the biggest attraction so far being 'Chica of the Sea', a tent for the underwater hologram show of a prerendered mermaid Glamrock Chica that would swim around, wave at guests, and do a few preset moves that employees could turn on whenever. There's hints of them wanting to reintroduce the others as well that haven't been shown off to the public yet, with the new roles being; Glam Freddy and Bonnie are the co-ringmasters of the main tent where the mascots performances are held, making sure everything runs smoothly. Roxanne is the mascots and glamrocks make up artist, as well as offering to do make up/face paint for any patrons that came by her tent (for a price, of course). And Monty would roam around the circus grounds as a strongman showing off his incredible strength. He also has a tent for this, but he was mostly supposed to roam around and sometimes try and make people swing by his tent, mostly so they would buy his merch.

-Chica being the first to be reintroduced has an effect on her character below ground, with her hearing the news and trying her best to dress herself up in whatever scraps she could find to look like her mermaid counterpart, practicing her singing and dancing despite her condition so she could prove that she could be just as good as the hologram if she just got a few repairs.

-Roxanne is headless, having lost her head in her tussle with the Mimic. But she still has control of both her body and head, carrying around her decapitated head in her arms.

-Vannie/Cassie cares about Goldie soso much that's her new bestie<33 Friendship ended with Gregory, Goldie is new best friend<3 (I'm so sorry Gregory)

-Vannie is also known as Vengeful Vannie, but usually shortened to just 'Vannie'. A callback to the "Vengeful Spirit" aka Cassidy, because I think the parallels between the two are neat<3 (THIS MEANS NOTHING LORE WISE IT'S JUST A NAMING THING.)

-Some of the stuff at Balloon Circus was bought from the carnival mentioned to be across the street from the Pizzaplex in the TFTPP epilogues, and rebranded to fit with the new Fazbear theming

I wanna talk more about these guys later- not sure what else exactly to do with them, but if anybody has any questions then feel free to send 'em to my inbox! I'll be more than happy to reply to the best of my abilities<3

1K notes · View notes

smolvenger · 1 year ago

Text

It's Christmas, After All (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: It seems you are spending Christmas alone...until Loki joins you.

Word Count: 4987

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+ (Thigh riding, blowjobs, sex on a chair and table, doggy style, p in v sex, orgasm denial), Spoilers for Loki season 2, lots of angst in the beginning with loneliness until it becomes tooth rotting mega indulgent fluff. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, y'all!

DICK-Tionary: Smut starts at "Gladly" and ends at "Panting, you held onto each other as he helped you down."

A/N: Hi there @loz-3!! I am your Secret Santa for @fictive-sl0th's event! Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy it and don't mind how super indulgent and wild it gets! Happiest of holidays to you!!! :) I hope it makes you happy this season and all year around!!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @loz-3

It should be a special day.

But here you were. Doing the same things as normal. Your same coffee. Your same breakfast. Your same place. Scrolling the same apps on the same phone. The same sky. The same weather. Only with some festive decorations around the place. Once it had cheered you up to see lights amid the gloomy weather. Now it made the place seem gaudy.

Social media was all the same. Smiling, happy people with their families and significant others and friends. How was it that people had big friend groups in real life as adults and did things together constantly? It felt like no matter how hard you reached out at work….they weren’t interested. You saw one girl from college with her husband and two little kids all in matching pajamas. You wished partly to get one of those pajamas. Because no matter what tacky red plaid set you got, you at least belonged to a group that all wore the same set. That you were included. One of something.

It didn’t feel like a holiday or a special day. Especially not Christmas- the day that was supposed to be the best of the year. To think you didn’t have work. Then at least you would have something to do, to get your mind off everything.

But no. Only quiet, lonely, long hours on a day of gathering and joy. Only there was no one to gather with. And the joy you were trying to make yourself feel…was nothing.

You were living on your own with a roommate. And she was off with her boyfriend to be all heart eyes and then eat casseroles with his family.

Your parents had booked a trip. They said they were sorry but next time they would bring you. And off they were at some tourist spot. You wished you could go- as tacky as the place was, as much as you had seen it top to bottom… it meant you could at least play cards and drink wine and cook meals with them on this holiday.

All of your friends lived far away in other places. Some were doing amazing things. Incredible jobs and opportunities. Greatness was reached for them…..but not for you. Some lived in town but grew apart- getting married. Or onto their own lives. Regularly posting pictures about their own “best friends.” Best friends who weren’t you.

You had befriended the Avengers, but off they went to either save the world or to their own families to celebrate. You knew Thor and Loki would go to Asgard for a feast with their family to commemorate Yule. Much less Loki- the handsome, charming trickster god probably had better things to you than deal with you...at least any more than friendship. A tiny one began between you two as you talked. But no…you were overthinking. What would he even see in you? You likely weren’t even his type! At least he didn’t notice your ogling when he was in the room. But…he was a god. He could have whoever he wanted….and not likely you.

You looked down at the texts you sent over to your sister and her husband. They were the only true, close friends in town you had.

“Hi there Sydney! I'm just asking- could I come over for Christmas? I want to just hang out!”

It was sent and Read on December 20th. No reply.

Then at the text over with your brother-in-law.

“Hey, there Sam! Can I come over and celebrate with you guys? I can bake something and bring it over! Plus I can’t wait to see your faces when you open my gifts!”

Sent December 22nd. No reply.

Once you have done everything together with your sister. Then she got married and suddenly…she had someone else. And you had no one. You then still tried to reach out to them. Going to movies, enjoying little family dinners, hanging out, and even sleeping over at each others’ houses.

Now…nothing. You looked at another text you sent them.

“Hey, Sydney! I’m free tomorrow- want to watch that movie we both discussed for the longest time seeing?”

Sent on December 18th. Read. No response.

It was like you no longer mattered to them anymore.

You wanted to yell at them. You wanted to march over to their place, open the door, and scream at both of them. Throw an angry tantrum like a child. How dare they ignore you. Leave you alone- they were all you had. The only live friends they had outside of a bunch of superheroes and gods who were always busy. You wanted to throw something at them. Yell that they never replied to your messages. That suddenly you were ignored and unimportant. That they were all you had and accusing them of treating you like dirt. Call them out for their shortcomings as you cursed and called them harsh words. You wanted to tear them both apart.

But…that was Destroying what good relationships you had with your sister and your brother-in-law. At least that’s what your mother would say.

But…you knew there was a chance they were both working on Christmas with their jobs. They worked night jobs and slept all day. They refused to go to things you planned to do with them due to “needing to sleep.” They had to make ends meet and It wasn’t fair on their end.

Yet on Christmas, it wasn’t fair on their end.

You ruminated more on them. Sydney and Sam, spend their days sleepily cuddling, binging streaming shows, cooking, and working nights. Discussing baby names and having one when they clearly couldn’t afford the rent increase. Their impracticality and sometimes immaturity. yet you loved them. But it was like they were in a bubble. Wrapped up in their little world. At least, Happy and in love. You wanted to be in love, to be loved, wanted, included….and here you were…alone.

Unloved. Unwanted. Unincluded.

You knew if you watched any Christmas movies, you would be surrounded by images of people smiling in groups. People were with their spouses, lovers, friends, and families all smiling and happy. Even if there was conflict like in any movie and someone was left in solitude…later they would all hurry in full of chatter and laughter and smiles. Because belonging, being wanted, was now just a fantasy.

You sat down on the couch and cried. What was worst of all - It was your favorite holiday. The lights, decorations, hope, music, food, beauty, joy- yet you were spending it alone.

Because you weren’t wanted anywhere by anyone.

You were spending it and closing the year as a failure. A lonely, awful failure.

The tears rolled down, making you gasp for breath and continue to sob. Curling up in the fetal position on the couch, crying, crying away until you were gasping for breath and snot running down your nose.

You heard some talking outside. It was colder- though a couple you knew, Mr. and Mrs. Malloy, was walking around. They lived in the big house across the road. They were dressed in their designer furs holding portable cups that you knew were homemade chocolate-peppermint espresso. Mr. Malloy with his brown hair, sharp green eyes, and a face that looked more like Handsome Squidward than an actual person. Mrs. Malloy with long, shiny red hair that was soft and full of products and curled to perfection, and her face was perfectly done with makeup products that were three times your car insurance. You could already smell the cologne and perfume from in your house. They smelled of money and loved to flaunt it to everyone.

As they strutted, a stranger walked by. Hands in pockets. A tall man in a big red puffer winter jacket with a black beanie hat that hid the top of his head walked by. It was hard to make out his face. They accidentally bumped into him.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” barked Mrs. Malloy, gripping her cup with her designer gloves. “I almost got coffee on me!”

“I’m sorry,” voiced the stranger. He bowed his head down, genuinely ashamed.

A decent person in the Malloy’s position would have acknowledged and accepted the apology. Perhaps even laugh it off- the coffee was still untouched and their clothes intact. Assure the stranger it was alright.

The Malloy’s were not decent people.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it! Just leave!” sneered Mr. Malloy.

The couple huffed and walked away past him. Taking sips from their drinks. Their noses up in the air.

The stranger behind lifted an ungloved, white hand towards them. His fingers swirled in the air. Then he fled to the far corner to watch.

Then as Mr. and Mrs. Malloy looked down their cups, sensing something was off. When they did, they let out a scream.

Out of the lid, instead of steaming espresso were a lot of tiny brown snakes that slithered out of the cup and down onto the ground. You let out a gasp where you stood watching.

The couple tried to stomp at them, but in vain- the tiny snakes were as invincible as cockroaches. Mr. and Mrs. Malloy screamed and ran away to their three-story house in fear.

You burst into laughter so much your cheeks hurt and your face felt warm.

It then hit you- you knew only one person even capable of that.

The man returned from his corner, his face turning to see you. He gave you a wink. You gave him a smile and a wave.

With a tilt of his head, the jacket turned to a dark brown peacoat and his hair was long, dark, and curly. An ivory face with cheekbones that could cut steel and sweet blue eyes. Hands casually in his pockets. The most beautiful man in all the realms you had ever seen.

At once, you threw on a jacket. You hurried to open the door. Loki walked to you with a smile.

“You’re here?!” you asked.

He gave a shrug

“If I have to tolerate my father’s Yule feast for one more minute, I was going to go mad,” Loki announced.

You took a step closer to him. The air was chilly, though not cold enough for snow.

“But why here? Why me? You could go anywhere….” you mused.

He let in a tight breath, raising a hand to brush through his curls.

“I may be a god of lies and deceit…but I…I didn’t want you to be alone today, my dear,” said. “And you, a great beauty of Midgard, alone on an auspicious day- it didn’t seem right.”

Chest fluttering from the complement. You…in just your sweater and jeans, a great beauty?! Yes, he could flirt and charm a statue to blush. That was his nature. Compliments rolled off him like his magic. You better not think any more of it.

Your whole self was bursting with gratitude and happiness. To have company, especially on Christmas of all days. To not be alone anymore.

Wiping off a few stray tears, you ran forth and tackled him in a hug, crying and laughing as he hugged you back. Accepting it. You were both lonely souls, not wanted, not chosen. So it was fate that a god should cross paths with a mortal with whom he shared so much of his pain.

“Come inside and get warm,” you offered.

He smiled, looking at the grey sky. The ground was grey with gravel and green from the grass.

“Let’s make something to get warm from,” he suggested.

With a flick of his hand, the temperature shot down. You shivered further into your coat. Then it began to snow down big, white puffs. You smiled, letting a hand out to feel them. How soft they were! Their tiny, intricate patterns where none were the same. A small laugh came out despite you.

“It’s beautiful! Now it really feels like Christmas!” you praised.

You didn’t realize the god of mischief looking at you, the white flakes falling on his dark hair and the rims of his long eyelashes. A softness on his features. His own heart picked up at the happy look on your face. His smile was soft.

“Alright- now let’s go inside,” you offered.

His hand reached up magic pouring through and around.

His magic went around in little golden slivers that went around the place. You gasped as it transformed everything it touched. Your jaw dropped at the transformation.

It was turned into a perfect Christmas home- a crackling fireplace grew from the wall with two green stockings. A turkey dinner complete with every side dish you could name was served on the table. Its delectable smell made your mouth water. A record player opened with the overture of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker ballet, the beautiful, playful, and mischievous music ringing through and sounding better than any ho-hum Christmas song the radio blasted ten billion times. Because it was from him. From Loki. And as you looked at the tree, with even more glittering gold decorations around it, a few resembling the horns on his helmet, a beautiful star sparkled on top. You gasped when you saw the skirt- there were piles of presents in green wrapping paper with gold ribbons. They weren’t there before.

You went to one like a little child full of both innocent greed and wide-eyed curiosity. You picked it up and shook it, feeling something in there.

“Are the gifts…real?” you asked.

“Of course- and a good portion of them are for you!” he replied.

The music moved onto the second part of the ballet’s first act- “Un fete du noel.” Soft strings and flutes over repeating lower strings full of anticipation and joy.

“Oh, but Loki…I..this is…so much, I-”

“If it weren’t for you, I’m sure I’d be either strangled to death or stuck in a tree of my creation! And I promise you they aren’t all pranks. Only one-quarter of them.”

“Thank you!” you gasped.

You went up and hugged him. So overjoyed, you pecked him on the cheek. He blinked in surprise. As you turned around, the god himself blushed pink.

Giggling, you picked up a present. The pranks were ones that were empty until the ribbons became little sparkling fireworks that made you laugh.

Then there was one that was empty when suddenly your clothes were transformed from your plain sweater and jeans to the fancy Christmas outfit of your dreams. It was a deep green dress made of velvet with a fitted waist and a long skirt, like something the ladies of White Christmas would wear. You felt….felt beautiful in it. You smiled at him in thanks.

They own were things you long craved for, and wanted. Beautiful things. And practical things. Things outside of your budget. Things that would help make life easier. Or a little beautiful. The very things you wanted. If you wanted it desperately there it would be laid. Lovely, lovely things. You were crying- but tears of happiness.

Loki merely sat on the couch, smiling at you. Beneath his peacoat was his average Midgard wear. A shirt and brown khakis that were both deliciously tight. A tie that made him seem like a professional office worker. As he eventually took off the coat and rolled up his sleeves, you stifled the urge to gawk at him.

“Oh, and your presents!” you gasped to Loki.

“I’m out of my father’s palace, what more could I need?’ he asked smoothly.

You felt warm and tingly inside but ignored it.

“Oh no! You deserve something too! I…I got you two gifts! They were on sale and I couldn’t pick just one. I hope it’s…it’s alright!” you offered.

You ran into your room. The music still tinkling, moving onto the Dance of the Snowflakes. He used his magic to open the curtains to see the window. The beautiful snowy day. People ran out to play, children giggling. To think…though he was a Frost Giant and feared, his magic could do a little good.

You emerged out with two boxes. One small and one big in red wrapping paper. He opened up the smaller box and found a set of fine brushes and combs. He grinned at them, testing the bristled with one of his beautiful, long fingers.

“I didn’t know how you cared for your hair- I always thought it looked nice- I thought you could use some!” you suggested.

He gave a small laugh looking at them.

“They’re perfect! I could always use them- Mother used to scold me for not tending to my hair! These I will treasure,” he assured you.

He then began to open the second bigger one. His eyebrows lifted as he got to the box and removed the lid. Inside was a thick, knitted black scarf. He smiled at it, testing it by wrapping it around him. It fit around him like it was made for him.

“You know me well, my dear. Thank you,” he replied.

With grumbling stomachs, you went over to the table. He conjured black cloth napkins and had one placed delicately on your lap. It was like being at a much fancier restaurant than being at your apartment.

You sat down and enjoyed the dinner- the meat was tender and full of flavor. The sides were all of your favorites, hot and freshly made. The desserts and sweets were full of powdered sugar that melts in your mouth. You had to suppress the sounds you made at tasting them. Loki had to remind you to slow down and taste it, enjoying it.

You showed one of your favorite Christmas movies. He asked questions and you laughed and explained everything. He looked at the commercials that played on the TV and then one featured Santa Claus. He tilted his head at it.

“Hmm, he looks like my father. Father was one of the inspirations for this Claus figure- did you know that?” he commented.

“Really! Though- Santa Claus is much nicer! I assure you!” you promised him.

The fire roared and it was quiet. He conjured two mugs of mulled wine. You sipped and smiled at the hot, spicy drink. The alcohol burning you a little, but relaxing you. You both let out a cheer for the holidays. The sun outside began to set early as it always does on a winter day. You both chatted- about Thor, your family and work, about the Avengers, the gifts, all sorts of things. He then looked around the place, finishing the wine with a last sip as he sat on the chair.

“Loki…I cannot thank you enough. I know I said thank you a hundred times today- but…why did you do all of this….for me? Not just to get away from Odin, but…you didn’t have to give me all of these gifts and a nice meal and make my place pretty…”

He cupped his mulled wine mug with both hands.

“Because…because…my dear, because….” he began to stutter.

He paused. His blue eyes were big, but never left yours. A god full of magic…and he was nervous!

“I really don’t know how to say this,” he continued.

Your throat went tight and your heart raced wildly. Wondering if this was a dream.

“But I feel sometimes…you and I…are tied together. No matter how hard I try to stop, you always appear there in my head. At every time of the day. You….you who have stayed by my side. Listened to me. Cared for me…And I find I want to return to you. Even if I had to crawl on my knees to get to you, I would. Because, my dear, I…I have…soft feelings for you, my dear…tender feelings…”

Unable to take it, you set down your mug and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss. were on him like an animal. His hands reached over to your waist. You kissed him- tasting the hot spiced wine he had been drinking. His hand went to you.

It wasn’t long until he had backed up. He sat on a chair and at once you straddled him.

His breath hitched- he was getting hard and you felt him right on your pants. You held his face and kissed him. He was groaning as you did. There were wet noises from the kissing.

“Dear girl, darling, sweet girl…I want to take you on each surface and ruin you in every way,” he said.

“Then start here- with this one,” you offered with the chair. “Ruin me then.”

With a flick of magic, your clothes changed. You were in deep green lingerie of a babydoll and high lace stockings and a lace thong you were certain was green too. He was only in black pants and a santa shirt that was wide open, showing his delicious wide chest with black chest hair and six-pack.

He smirked at you and said one word.

“Gladly.”

Holding onto him, you ground against him as you kept kissing his neck, his shoulders over his shirt. He moaned at the touch. You went to his neck-sucking on as you touched each bit of him. His large, delicious hands feel the lingerie on your mid body and your legs. You heard him chuckle.

“I see my little pet is eager,” he began.

He set you on his thigh and you gasped.

“Here you go- ride this first. Get yourself ready- and I want those sounds of yours loud. So I know what pleasure I can give you.”

You began to roll your hips. He moved it up and down, eyes brimmed with lust as he watched you.

You let out one moan- his leg hitting your thin panties, already getting wet. Then as you grinded on his leg again, you let out another louder one like he commanded. You saw his erection even on the darkness of his pants as you did. His hands touched your body beneath the babydoll, squeezing your hips. Then going up, holding both of your breasts, squeezing and feeling them.

His chest was revealed- wide and strong pectorals, with a little hair. Abdominal muscles with a six-pack made of ivory. You rode his thigh for another minute, letting your thong get ruined with how soaked you became. Then you leaned forward, grinning. You began to kiss his chest. Then you used your tongue and licked it. The hot skin beneath you, a little salty from his sweat. He moaned in turn.

“Yes…I like that…that too, my dear- keep…keep going…”

You then stopped, smiling at him.

“I have to thank you first…for everything you did today,” you giggled.

At once you got on your knees, eagerly finding the zipper of his pants and undoing it. Out sprang his large cock, white pearls dripping off of the tip. So hard it was touching his stomach.

“See…see what effect you have on me, pet? What you do to me- even when you just smile at me…we need to take care of that…”

“Yes…let me….” you grinned.

You set your lips around his cock and began to suck at it. He let out a groan. His hands find the top of your head. You sucked at it like it was candy, as saltier than the rest of his skin. As you did, you swirled your tongue over the tip and he hissed out your name. He began to experimentally thrust a little inside you. Though your eyes burnt, you took as much of it as you could- for he was a god even with the size of his length. His shudders through him.

“Yes…good girl, my good, good little mortal- taking your god's cock in your pretty lips, on your knees- yes-good fucking girl,” he voiced out.

You felt him tense up, a small release as he gasped. You then went up, wiping off his cum that dripped down from your mouth. At once you got up and had him watch as you swallowed. His own body stilled. His cock still raging hard. One of the benefits of being a god- he was always horny and ready and didn’t take long to want more after he came.

“Norns,” he voiced in awe.

Then you mounted him, still hard.

You kept at it, lapping up his skin- kissing him on that delicious chest and on his shoulders. You could feel yourself get even wetter as he did.

“My darling-I-I cannot take it-I- have to be inside of you…” he breathed out, his voice raspy.

His hands gathered your skirt to your waist and he ripped apart the thong of your own creation. Your wetness cold from the sudden exposure. You wrapped your legs on the couch to mount him. At once you plunged inside. You let out a cry from the size as you adjusted. You began to ride him- your breasts bouncing.

“Ah- ah!oh-oh-Loki- fuck, yes- there-yes, I love-I love you-fuck!” you were moaning’

“Yes-yes-take your god like a good girl- all of it-all of me-”

He groaned and made a small sound. As he pounded away. You felt yourself speeding up, the high, about to reach bliss when….when he stopped. His hands are on your waist.

“I want to take you like a whore now,” he said. “Would you like that?”

“Yes…yes please,” you said.

He picked you up, legs around. He kissed you, still tasting himself on your lips and breath. Your hands still fisted around his curls. still around and brought you to the table. The plates and silverware made a sound like a crash as they fell to the floor as he shoved them aside.

He had you bend down over it. He let out a guttural breath with a smile at the sight of your bare ass over it for him. He gave you a strong spank and you let out a small yelp. Gripping the table on the other end for what was about to happen.

“Who is your god?” he asked.

“L-Loki is.”

He spanked you again. You let out a cry.

“Who gave you all of this-?”

“Loki did!”

“And you will pay back by being my obedient little girl, will you?” he asked.

“Yes, yes please-”

He thrust inside you from behind. You let out a cry. His breaths were low pants. He pounded in, the table shaking. What plates and silverware and food there was shaking with it. Your hand became a tight fist as he pounded on. It was so rough, hard, and filthy, you couldn’t help but love it.

He pulled you roughly up, your own moans with each filthy thrust of his.

“Yes-even here- you will take…take your god's cock in every way. Yes- yes, there-fuck-norns-what you-you do to me-your god,” he hissed out, his breath right behind you.

You felt it bubble up again. You let out another moan as you tilted your neck behind him, feeling it.

“Yes-yes Loki- Loki-please…please- I’m about to-to cum, please, let me-let me cum-” you pleaded. Your own folds inside shaking from the power.

“No…wait…”

He pulled out of you. You let out a small sigh. Your body shaking. Taking so much. Desperate for release.

“When you cum, I want to see it,” he breathed out.

He flipped you around and positioned you to wrap your legs around him. You embraced him. At once he entered again. Then thrust into you, slow at first.

“Eyes on me. No one else- watch me. I want you-want you to look me in the eye when you cum. So no man. No god- no one can give you this pleasure-”

He began to pound into you again on the table, you bounced Your breath was hitching in high gasps.

“Ah- oh- hmm-yes-yes there-oh gods-Loki-”

“Eyes on me, darling-look at me-”

His hands then wandered to your clit. So powerful and large, they began to strum it. You let out another moan.

“Look- at-me,” he commanded.

You were so hazed you forgot- his voice commanding-your had your eyes focused on him. His jaw tightened, fighting his own release too.

“Eyes. On. Me- who gives you pleasure?”

“You do!” you cried out.

“Say my name, darling-”

He fiddled with your clitoris faster, you fought it, it was finally going to break at this rate.

You let out a shout. It was building up in you. He pounded you into a fury. So many quick deep thrusts, the table going wild.

“Yes- say it darling- say it, I’m cumming- yes- cum with me- look at me- look at me- yes, I feel it- I’m going to-going to cum- I command you- say it- say my-say my name!!”

You let out a breathy cry of “Loki!” as it broke on you and you climaxed so hard his face and the room spun.

Panting, you held onto each other as he helped you down. He conjured you a glass of water to sip on.

“Are you ok?” he asked. “It was a lot.”

“It was perfect. Presents, a meal, and an orgasms- you’re spoiling me rotten already,” you teased.

He smiled and chuckled at the phrase. You both got in blankets snuggling before the fire.

So much time had passed it didn’t occur to you that your phone dinged with an alert. You picked it up. An hour ago, your sister and her husband sent a reply saying they were sorry since they fell asleep and now saw you and that you were welcome to see them. You let out a laugh.

“Would you like to, my dear?” he asked.

“Not in this…” you gestured to the babydoll. “But I do want to keep it…I have my favorite gift to enjoy tonight?”

“The ravishing little number you have on?” he asked.

“Oh no…it’s a handsome gift, tall, dark hair, blue eyes,” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around him.

“Merry Christmas, pet,” he whispered.

It was indeed.

609 notes · View notes