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anto-pops · 4 months

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The Archivist - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: Weeks after discovering some ancient tomes you're unable to decipher, you reach out to the Ministry of Magic Archives for help decoding the timeworn pages. The last thing you'd expected was for Sebastian Sallow to show up, much less for him to be so... attractive. Had he always looked like that?

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian Sallow pursued a professional career as a book nerd and also happens to be really well versed in sex.

Word Count: 6,969 (LMAO)

Warnings: 18+. aged up characters, explicit sexual content, size difference, Sebastian wearing glasses again

Up on Ao3 here for your viewing pleasure

You honestly didn’t think you’d ever thrown on clothes faster than you did the day someone apparated into your living room with a deafening crack, followed by a crash and a muffled, “Shit, ow.”

If you were to die, you weren’t eager to do so half-naked and half-asleep.

After hastily tying your robe around your waist and stuffing your feet in a pair of deteriorating slippers, you cautiously stuck your head into the hallway, the unruly strands of your bed head sticking to your cheeks and poking you in the eye as you assessed the situation.

At the end of the hall you could see a stack of books scattered across the floor, along with a previously organized collection of newspapers now strewn over the top of a prone body. Said body was stirring beneath the crumpled parchment, and you bit your lip and wished desperately for coffee as you weighed your options.

Option one: it was a murderer and you should leave immediately. The only problem was that the hallway leading to the front door was now blocked. Shit.

Option two: it was a burglar, and if you could remember where you’d left your wand last night, you could petrify the man in place until officials came to your aid.

Option three: it was a murdering burglar, and you might as well attempt to find out as much as you could before you wound up gruesomely cut down so you could at least haunt the bastard.

As the concealed figure attempted to sit up, you heard another thump as something fell from above them, followed by an irate groan, and you gripped the doorway to your bedroom tightly as you managed to call out a meek, “Hello?”

All movement and noises in the living room ceased for a moment, the air still and silent. You swore if the intruder dropped so much as a pin, you would hear it. The pair of feet belonging to the unknown man dragged along the floor as he seemingly stood himself up, and figuring that no burglar would be such a noisy wreck, you took your chances and slowly made your way down the hall to take in the damage done to your living space.

Bizarre as it was to be so civil with someone who’d essentially broken into your home, you rounded the corner and found yourself asking, “Are you alright?”

You were met with your potential adversary as he turned around, and you were equal parts surprised and confused to discover that it was none other than Sebastian Sallow. It had been years since you’d last seen him, the two of you having gone your separate ways after graduation as you continued hunting down ancient magic sites and he pursued a career within the Ministry. The last letter you’d received from him had come in a little over a year ago, sadly informing you that his sister had finally passed, albeit peacefully.

To find him now standing in the midst of your demolished living room was a shock in and of itself.

“Sebastian?” you asked incredulously, your eyes raking down his disheveled but well dressed body. He had certainly grown since you’d last seen him, his long legs accentuated by pressed slacks, and the suspenders that wrapped over his sculpted shoulders left little to the imagination. The button up he wore was just shy of being too small for his broad figure, and when you glanced back up at him, you watched as he brought one of his hands up to his face to fix his crooked glasses.

“Hi,” he said lamely, flashing you a somewhat sheepish smile. “Sorry for the mess– I, uh– well, I think I landed on something when I popped in.”

Your eyes flicked down once more to the toppled stacks of books that now covered the floor, and your brow cocked of its own accord as you breathed out a laugh, “You don’t say.”

Still reeling from the abrupt wake up call, you could only stare dumbstruck as Sebastian fixed his clothing and picked invisible lint off of his shirt, then offered his hand to you. “Sorry about the books. And the, uh, language. I’m here about the old tomes you found?”

As you accepted his outstretched hand and tried not to pass out from the firmness of it, you blinked and attempted to figure out what he was referring to. “Tomes?”

“The ones you wanted looked over?” He let go of your hand to rifle through the small satchel strapped to his thigh, and it took a herculean effort not to drool over the sheer width of his leg. Merlin’s bloody balls… you’d been holed up indoors for too long. “You sent in this consultation request a few weeks ago,” he said, pulling out a small slip of parchment decorated in your familiar scrawl, and then it all started to come back to you.

It had been nearly a month since, but during your last excursion to Scotland, you’d come across a set of unique, fragile tomes buried deep in an ancient magic site there. As curious as you’d been to read through their contents, the text within was hardly legible, and in truth, you weren’t even sure it was written in English. In a bid to still make use of the age-old books, you had reached out to the Ministry of Magic Archives to have someone potentially aid you in deciphering the timeworn pages. After almost a month with no response, you had simply shelved them all and moved on to planning your next trip.

“I completely forgot,” you muttered, taking the paper from Sebastian to read it over. “I kind of gave up hoping that the Ministry would send someone.”

“They weren’t planning on it,” he started to say, sounding conflicted as to whether or not he should continue. “But after I got my hands on the request, I took something of a personal interest in the case.”

Jokingly, you teased, “You hold that much sway working in the Archives?”

“I do when I’m the Archivist.”

“You’re the Archivist?” Your jaw dropped comically fast, your eyes wider than saucers as you processed his statement. Suddenly you were looking at your former friend in a whole new light. In your mind, you had always assumed the Ministry’s Archivist would be… well, ancient. Old and withered, graying and feeble. Not youthful and– quite frankly– hot. “How did that happen?”

Sebastian rocked back on his heels as he stuffed his thumbs in his pockets, the very picture of modesty as he shrugged, “It’s technically my trial period since the old Archivist just died a few months ago. But yeah, I guess my thirst for knowledge and reading habits paid off. At the very least it impressed the Minister enough for him to promote me.”

Eventually you managed to pick your chin up off the floor so you were no longer gaping at him like a fish, and you bashfully tucked a particularly stubborn strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat and said, “Well, congratulations then. Glad to hear you’re doing well for yourself.”

Sebastian stared at you for a long moment before laughing softly under his breath, his hand sweeping through the front of his curly hair, “Thanks. But anyways, I can take a look at those tomes now if you’ve still got them?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. They’re on the shelf by the couch, let me just get changed.”

“No worries,” Sebastian said quickly, grinning widely as he moved around you further into the living room, his eyes roving over you momentarily. “I’ve got this.”

Did he just… check you out? No way, you thought, shaking the idea from your mind entirely.

You tracked the brunet as he strode over to the cluttered shelf beside the sofa, watching intently as he moved a few books around until he found the unmistakable tomes propped against the wooden panels. With the utmost care, Sebastian carefully withdrew one of the three with delicate fingers, his touch featherlight and ever conscious of the fragile nature of the bound piece of foreign literature. As he thoughtfully deposited the book on top of the coffee table, you couldn’t help but admire how gentle he was being with it; with hands that big, you found his tender touch to be something of a contrast to his entire person.

Shamelessly, you also found yourself wondering how those hands of his might feel against your skin.

Beating back your lustful thoughts with a mental brick, you managed to say with an even tone, “I’m surprised you can tell what’s what in that mess of a shelf. I’ve been told I have a bit of a hoarding problem– most people can’t separate the floor from the walls.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” he retorted, flashing you a dazzling smile from over his shoulder. “It takes a bookworm to know one. My old overseer at the Archives used to tell me I ‘had no shelf control’.”

The silence that settled over the room was utterly loud, and as Sebastian’s face took on the hue of a ripe tomato, you were fighting a grin with every fiber of your being. Your lips contorted into something resembling a downward smile while the Archivist-in-training turned back to the bookshelf, dragging a hand down his flushed cheeks as a pained groan weaseled its way out of him. “Please forget I said that. I’ve picked up on one too many library jokes in the past five years.”

Sweet Merlin, he was dorky as hell. Please leave, excessively hot Archivist. Either leave or stay for about six hours and don’t go until I’m ready to let you.

To spare him his dignity and also because you needed to refrain from staring at his attractive backside, you spun on your heel to head into the kitchen. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Please,” he sighed in agreement, sounding all too excited about the change in topic.

“I’ve got tea, coffee, and… water,” you finished pathetically. The barren cupboards above the pantry nearly brought a tear to your eye, and you made a mental note to do some shopping later if you had the time.

Sebastian set the second tome down on the coffee table at the same time he called out to you, “Tea is fine, thank you.”

It took a smidge longer than normal to boil the water, seeing as you had to pause your efforts to find your wand buried beneath the piles of maps in your bedroom. Once you had it in hand, however, you whipped up two steaming cups of black tea and returned to Sebastian minutes later to hand his cup over to him. He took it graciously, plainly eyeing you up over the brim of the mug as he took a tentative sip, and your stomach flipped at the suggestive look he fixed you with.

“I’m a little jealous, you’ve got one hell of a collection here. I almost wish I could take some of these old books off your hands.”

“Mm,” you hummed around a mouthful of tea, swallowing pointedly. Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched minutely. “Well, I think it might be time for me to clean house a bit anyways. If you wanted to, you could always come back and take your pick of what you like.”

His brows rose momentarily before settling, a muscle in his defined jaw ticking as he glanced between you and the tomes on the table. Then with a voice like pure sin, Sebastian smoothly said, “And what if I like more than the books?”

Shit, shit. Redirect. You fought to employ every ounce of self-control in your body so you wouldn’t just jump into his strong arms and straddle him right there, but you were acutely aware of a few facts; you looked like you had fought a Hippogriff in your sleep, you had sorely little on under your robe, and Sebastian's eyes had been devouring the noticeable outline of your collarbone for the last minute or so. Fuck.

“Then it sounds, uh,” you started to say, struggling to form words with the broad shouldered Adonis across from you seemingly undressing you with his eyes. “Like we might be on the same page.” It was the truth– you were as interested in the Archivist as you were in the purpose for his visit– but once the unintentional pun registered, you rolled your eyes and dug the heel of your palm into one eye, swearing softly. To his credit, Sebastian just laughed, taking another hearty sip of his tea as you shyly smiled up at him.

With more work to be done back at the Ministry and your tomes in hand, Sebastian dutifully let you know that while he couldn't stay presently, he would absolutely be coming back later that night. He followed you into the kitchen to deposit his cup beside the sink, intentionally reaching over your shoulder to set the mug down before letting his fingers ghost along the skin of your neck. Goosebumps broke out all over your body at the contact, and when you turned around to face him with the counter pressing against your rear, his hands came to deftly adjust the revealing neckline of your robe with a coy smirk tugging at his lips.

“See you at seven,” he purred, leaving you a blushing mess in your kitchen as he stepped back, winked, then apparated away.

—

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, you had bathed, gone to the market to replenish your sorry excuse of a pantry, tidied up the previously demolished sitting area, and started cooking dinner. Part of you felt like you were getting ahead of yourself with everything, but after spending the entirety of your day reflecting on the stolen glances Sebastian had sent your way and his rather telling comment in the living room, you told yourself it couldn’t get any more obvious than that.

He had always been rather cute during your time at school, but something about seeing him grown and fully matured had ignited a fire in your veins that stubbornly stayed burning for hours.

When he showed up five minutes early at six fifty-five with freshly washed hair and wearing a darker version of his earlier outfit, your doubts all but vanished. Clearly you weren’t the only one itching to make a good impression.

Sebastian followed you into the living room, now noticeably cleaner than it had been earlier in the morning, and held up the bottle of wine he’d been holding at his side. “I know you’ve got tea and water, but uh. I figured why not. It’s Friday after all.”

You smiled softly and let your hands brush against his as you took the wine from him, curiously watching as his fingers flexed when his arm returned to his side. “Thank you. I take it the Archivist doesn’t go to work on the weekends, then?”

“The Archivist in training doesn’t, but I’m sure my free time will be a commodity before long. I’m pretty sure the last one frequently slept under his desk at the Ministry Headquarters. What about you? Any drab desk jobs to speak of?”

“Nope,” you said, gesturing to the couch as you turned to head back into the kitchen. “When I need the extra money I’ll help out Sirona at The Three Broomsticks, but for the most part my explorations and Professor Fig’s estate hold me over well enough. I’m hardly ever home anyways, so it’s not like there’s many expenses to keep track of.”

“I see,” Sebastian huffed as he collapsed into the couch, spreading his long arms along the top of the backrest as he took in the neater state of the living room. “I’m guessing your adventuring is why there’s so many books in the first place. Have you ever thought about upsizing?”

“Hardly,” you set the bottle down on the kitchen counter and chanced a look at the man on the sofa, oddly pleased to see him so at ease in the midst of your cluttered home. “I’d much rather downsize the collection. I don’t even need the majority of what I have– I’ve read through it all ten times over.”

He nodded, “Fair enough.”

“Anyway, I imagined you’d be hungry, so dinner’s almost ready.”

“Oh, damn,” Sebastian mumbled, sitting forward to run a hand through his drying hair as you flitted around the kitchen. “You didn’t have to.”

“Unless you planned on feeding yourself later, I think most shops will be closed by the time you leave,” you said pointedly, turning to hide your grin when you observed the brunet flushing bright red. Miraculously you resisted the urge to add ‘if at all’ to the end of your statement. You unearthed the corkscrew buried deep within the kitchen drawers and popped open the wine bottle, filling two glasses before striding back into the living room to hand one over to Sebastian. “Feel free to take a look at any of the books, see if any of them might be worth taking to the Archives.”

The larger man gave you a lopsided smirk as he took the offered glass and clinked it gently against yours, muttering his agreement before shamelessly ogling your retreating form returning to the kitchen. The cinched waist of your otherwise simple dress was incredibly distracting. He elected not to sift through the piles upon piles of books, opting to instead watch as you hummed to yourself and stirred something on the stove, which Sebastian was beginning to realize smelled pretty fantastic. He was grateful for the distance between you both so you couldn’t hear his stomach growling.

Once the food was ready, you ate with comfortable conversation flowing between the two of you the entire time. You asked Sebastian what he did in his soon to be nonexistent free time, and you were surprised to hear that he had taken on the role of Feldcroft’s token handyman. In his own words, the muggle approach to fixing things was relatively therapeutic, and he loved getting his hands dirty almost as much as he loved having his nose burrowed in book pages. It explained his physical appearance, at the very least. Until now, you’d just assumed he had a habit of squatting massive stacks of books in the Archives when he was bored.

In turn he had asked you about your hobbies, about the ancient magic sites you visited, and about living on-the-go so regularly. It was so normal for you now that you barely batted an eye at being away from home for weeks at a time, and you told him as much with a half-hearted shrug.

Lazily, you swirled the remaining wine around in your glass, bringing it to your mouth as you murmured, “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me here, so I don’t mind it.”

Sebastian watched you intently as you finished off your drink, taking in the pretty flush decorating your cheeks and the delectable way you licked your wine-stained lips in the moment that followed. “Anything, or anyone?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t have anyone to come home to? No pets, no kids…” he trailed off, the rest of his question dangling in the air like a lone cloud. Your eyes fell to Sebastian’s hand as he sensually ran his pinched fingers along the stem of his own glass, and his half-hooded eyes hidden behind his glasses said everything in place of the missing portion of his sentence.

No lover, is what you knew he was indirectly asking.

“Do you see anyone else here?” you teased, the sides of your mouth curling into a coy smile.

“No,” Sebastian retorted, pushing his empty glass away as he sat back in his seat, amusement etched across his handsome face. “Then again, it doesn’t hurt to check. Had to make sure I was reading things correctly.”

You perched your elbow on the armrest of your chair and balanced your chin on top of your fist casually before asking, “Was that another one of your jokes?” Hoping that you looked more confident than you felt, you mirrored his position and crossed one of your legs over the other, taking immense satisfaction in the way the brunet’s throat bobbed at the sight of your legs outlined through your attire.

Sebastian looked puzzled for a moment before realizing what he’d said, and he rolled his eyes at the same time an airy laugh spilled from your lips. “An accidental one, make no mistake,” he moved forward to the edge of his seat, leaning forward to play with one of the folds of your dress with his index finger. “But I have been thinking about you all day, and I may or may not have convinced myself that you’re way out of my league.”

“You should be more confident,” you whispered, dropping your hand to clutch at the one the Archivist was inching towards your leg with. His fingers immediately spread to accommodate your smaller ones, and you tugged him a smidge closer so your noses were mere inches apart. Jokingly, you taunted him further by asking, “Did you still want to look at my book collection?”

Before you could so much as yelp, Sebastian closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and pressed his lips to yours fervently, any lingering awkwardness falling away like leaves on a tree. His free hand came to curl around the back of your neck, holding you firmly against his mouth as he angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss further, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the brutish feeling of his broad hand holding you in place.

He pulled away just enough to brush a tinier, more delicate kiss against the tip of your nose before he sighed, “I really don’t give a damn about the books right now.”

A budding Archivist not caring about books? The scandal, is what you wanted to say, but then Sebastian’s lips were back on yours, swallowing your pending comment with a ferocity that had your stomach churning wantonly. Those brilliant hands of his left your neck and your hand to trail along your waist, his fingers digging firmly into the bodice of your dress to pull you towards him, and you followed his guidance all too willingly as he urged you from your seat. Within seconds you were in his lap, melting against him as he ground his hips up into yours while simultaneously using his hands to rock you against his hardening cock, and a satisfied groan emitted from him as you allowed him to move you as he pleased.

In-between kisses, Sebastian managed to croak out, “Bedroom?”

You barely managed a nod, too enthralled by the man under you to form actual words, and at the same time you dove back in for another heated kiss, Sebastian looped an arm around your back and the other under your ass as he stood up, lifting you with him as though you weighed nothing. Instinctively you hooked your legs around his hips, letting him haul you along to your bedroom while your hands flew to his neck to clutch at him ardently in a bid to keep your mouth glued to his. His ability to multi-task was something to compliment later on, because he kept walking and working his mouth over yours with a finesse that bordered on inhuman.

The next thing you knew you were being thrown down on the mattress, bouncing in place briefly before you had to bite your lip to stifle a curse as you watched Sebastian fucking crawl up the bed towards you, predatory and sexy as hell. As soon as he was within reach, you grabbed for one of his suspender straps and pulled him closer, kissing him once again and moaning eagerly when you felt his hand grip at the seductive curve of your waist to squeeze before he settled on top of you. With his knees on either side of you, it was impossible to overlook the feeling of his achingly hard cock pressing down against your leg, and Sebastian groaned loudly when you tried lifting your hips to convey your impatience.

“Someone’s excited,” he murmured against your swollen lips, grinning to himself as you worked to catch your breath. “Have you been thinking about me, too?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your train of thought momentarily derailing when Sebastian moved so his chest was pressing against your clothed breasts, his hips flush with yours to better grind against you. “Don’t you own a mirror?”

Instead of replying to your thinly veiled compliment, Sebastian dipped his head into the crook of your neck to nip and kiss his way along your jaw with a rumbling moan, the force of his ministrations forcing your head back against the pillows. He was as eager as you were, that much was certain. As he rutted his concealed cock against your thigh, you heard and felt him shudder against you, and in an attempt to silence himself, the Archivist’s plush lips latched firmly onto a patch of skin under your jaw to suck a mark there.

The stinging sensation of him biting down had your eyes fluttering shut, your entire being relishing in the light pain his teeth bestowed upon you, and Sebastian blindly reached for your wrist to pin your arm above your head. The dominant display had you voicing your approval in the form of a low moan, enjoying how being stretched out for him allowed for his other hand to rake down your side to start bunching up your dress. His movements didn’t cease as he lifted his hips slightly to free up the rest of the fabric trapped beneath him, and he expertly collected the material into a disheveled heap below your navel. When his dexterous fingers ghosted along the waistband of your undergarments, your next breath caught in your throat and caused you to gasp shakily.

You felt as Sebastian’s lips curved into a smirk against your spit-slick skin before sitting back on his heels to murmur, “You’re so noisy.”

Through his lashes, he watched as a brilliant flush swept up your neck to cover your face, and you timidly tried to hide your cheeks with the back of your free hand. “S-Sorry,” you stammered, but the man above you was having absolutely none of your self-consciousness.

Your mediocre shield was wrenched away from your face and pinned up alongside your other hand in an instant, and you blinked up at Sebastian in blatant surprise as he leaned menacingly over you. “Don’t stop,” he implored you, biting his lip as he took in the sight of you beneath him. “I love it.

The brunet secured your wrists into one of his hands so he could drop the other one back to your aching center, swiping two of his fingers up your slit through your underwear to feel the wetness that had collected there. The sensation left you breathless, another choked gasp weaseling its way past your lips and earning a dark chuckle from Sebastian. His digits moved up to slide beneath the fabric blocking his path, and a low groan sounded from him as he felt how truly soaked you were from his efforts. Without looking away from your pinched features, he gingerly slid a single finger in, biting his lip hungrily at the way your lips parted and your head rolled to the side when he began steadily pumping in and out of you.

When you felt his thumb begin to rub against your clit, your eyelids fluttered shut from the intense pleasure that washed over you, pulling a strangled whimper from you. “Fuck, Sebastian–”

The hand he had securely wrapped around your wrists tightened a fraction to draw your mind out of the gutter, and he roughly gritted out, “Look at me, darling– open those pretty eyes for me.” You couldn’t help but oblige him when he referred to you so sweetly, and when you cracked your eyes open once again, his body seemed to shudder with delight as he growled, “So fucking perfect. My name sounds damn good when you say it like that.”

With his gaze burning into yours and the close proximity between the two of you, you didn’t think the overwhelming euphoria you felt could get any better. That is, until he added a second finger into the mix. The initial stretch was felt only briefly before his thumb pressed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, the persistent ministrations against your clit muting any discomfort and leaving you arching brainlessly beneath him as that hot, incessant feeling in your gut roared to life. It was tantalizing, and your hips bucked off the mattress in an attempt to chase his movements and reach the climax you were utterly desperate for.

“Please, please,” you begged mindlessly, your desire to come so potent that it was almost painful. “Please, Sebastian, please.”

“Already?” he tsk’d mockingly, shaking his head minutely as he eagerly wet his bottom lip and removed his thumb from your center. “I think you can hold on a bit longer, don’t you? I’d much rather end this with my cock, if it’s all the same to you.”

The lack of friction sobered you up instantly, and the lustful haze that had clouded your mind cleared enough for you to blink blearily up at him, a small frown playing on your lips. “Really?”

Sebastian cocked a brow at you, as though daring you to tell him he was being unreasonable. “Would you rather this end with my hands?”

You tried to roll your hips up into his hand before relenting rather quickly, and you muttered, “F-Fine. Just hurry up, I might throttle you if I have to wait any longer.”

Sebastian grinned wickedly at the way your back arched when he curled his fingers inside of you before torturously withdrawing them. A small sigh slipped from you when he let go of your wrists and slid away to hastily begin shedding his clothing, taking care to be gentler with his glasses as he set them down on the nightstand, and once he was wholly bare before you, the only thing you could do was stare.

His physique was mind boggling; toned, defined muscles made up every inch of his torso, accentuated by broad shoulders that you were convinced didn’t belong anywhere near someone who worked in a glorified library of all places. His skin was sun-kissed and peppered with freckles, a testament to the aforementioned physical labor he claimed to enjoy. It hadn’t made much sense to you before when he’d told you– forgoing magic to use his own hands to help fix things. But if a habit like that gave a man a body like his, you would never doubt his preferences again.

All of Sebastian looked positively divine, including his cock. Thick, hard, and twitching tellingly, it arched proudly against his taut stomach, the head violently red and already leaking beads of pre-cum in response to the situation at hand. You swallowed thickly when you realized that that would be inside of you, and you were suddenly grateful that he’d told you to wait. Not to discredit his fingers or anything, but you had a nagging feeling that you would enjoy his lower parts far more than his hands.

Ignoring the nervousness that settled in your stomach, you sat up to quickly pull the sleeves of your dress down your arms, wriggling out of the attire quickly before throwing the bunched up material to the floor. As you reached down to slide your underwear off, Sebastian returned to kneel in front of you and stopped you by lightly pushing you flat against the pillows, then ran his hands along the plane of your stomach.

“Allow me,” he said chivalrously, taking care to gently slip his fingers under the waistband and sensually remove the material entirely. With nothing else separating you from him, Sebastian took his time eating you alive with his eyes, letting his hands drag up your thighs and squeeze at your knees before pushing your legs apart so he had space to siddle forward. The blunt head of his cock bumped against your slick cunt, and a barely there shudder ran down your spine in anticipation.

It took a good amount of self-control for you to let Sebastian press into you achingly slow, his eyes pinching shut while his teeth savaged his bottom lip, and when he was finally sheathed inside of you fully, the brunet was practically shaking with the desire to fuck your brains out. He waited, though, his palms sliding from your knees to your upper thighs to dig his fingers into the skin there, raking his hungry gaze over you while he gave you a moment to adjust.

You appreciated the sentiment, because Merlin– he was big. It was impossible to overlook every delicious inch of him pressing against your inner walls, the subtle grinding of his hips stretching you out more and more to the point where your breath continuously caught in your throat. It felt good, though. Good enough to leave you wondering why you’d never sought him out when the two of you were still in school together.

At some point, however, you realized Sebastian was fucking with you. It probably had something to do with the repetitive, shallow thrusts he teased you with, and when you craned your neck up to look at him, he was already staring at you with a wide grin splitting his face, his tongue poking out between his teeth.

“W-What?” you grumbled, your hands fisting in the sheets. “Are you going to make me beg or something? I already said please.”

“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” Sebastian said, rocking his hips just enough to leave you arching towards him. “You look like you’re trying really hard to keep it together. It’s cute.”

“I’m flattered,” you breathed out around an airy laugh, then wriggled your hips down in an attempt to bait the Archivist into moving. Mercifully, it worked.

Sebastian gave a throaty moan, leaning forward to brace one hand on the side of your waist while the other gripped at your thigh tighter, and he withdrew his cock languidly before plunging back in. Your breathing hitched and your head fell back against the pillows at the abrupt sensation, and the sight of you so obviously enthralled by his efforts was what expelled the remainder of his patience.

Holding onto your thigh with bruising strength, Sebastian fell into a steady, toe-curling pace. He pulled you onto his cock with every deep plunge, digging his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts, and his reward was the sound of your shaky voice reverberating off of the bedroom walls as your spine rounded. You keened loudly, overcome with both the feeling and the sight of Sebastian– because not only was he deceptively good at rendering your mind into a puddle of mush, he looked amazing while he was doing it. The muscles in his arms rippled as he supported himself above you, his brown curls falling into his face as his head hung heavy between his sculpted shoulders, and when your arousal had you clamping down on his cock harder, those full, kissable lips of his fell open around a guttural groan.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he grit out through his clenched teeth, gazing down at you with lust-dark eyes that made your blood burn hot in your veins. “So bloody gorgeous– like a fucking work of art.”

His praises left you whining in earnest, and you didn’t bother to keep your voice down in the slightest. With every sinful noise that escaped you, Sebastian’s hold on you seemed to intensify, and his thick cock filled you harder with every desperate pump of his hips. His ragged breathing left you craving more of him– all of him– and you rutted against him as much as was physically possible in a bid to take him deeper.

Sebastian picked up on your desires wordlessly, and he shifted his hold on your thigh so his hand was looped around it to better pull it to the side, giving him the room he needed to spear into you with wicked precision. It also allowed him to discover what you sounded like crying out for more, your voice reedy and strident within the four walls of the bedroom, and when he shifted his hips down to achieve new depths, your moans echoed around him. He had to be hitting a good spot.

“Right there, Sebastian, fuck– right there–”

Your lower half was positively shaking, and Sebastian was honestly at his limit. He sat up momentarily before grabbing both of your legs, watching as you blearily tried to figure out what was going on while he pulled your knees over his shoulders. Moving over you swiftly and urgently, he bent you back and rammed his thick cock back into your tight heat, animalistic grunts sounding from him as you arched tight and cried out, but you were barely given the space to breathe before he was fucking you hard– hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left screaming and gasping helplessly at the sheets.

Sebastian pinned you to the bed and pounded into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands grasped at the sweaty, flushed skin of your waist, pulling you close while he filled you over and over and drank in your noisy pleas for more until your back was arching clear off the bed and your thighs were shaking. You were barely holding on, your climax from earlier roaring back to life in your gut and rendering your tongue a lead weight in your mouth.

Forming words was damn near impossible, but you still managed to babble out, “Like that, Sebastian, fuck, just like that– I’m close– please, I’m–”

He obliged you instantly, keeping up his pace while he brought his hand between your legs to thumb over your bundle of nerves, his hips angling upwards with every deep, precise plunge. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, you watched through your slitted eyes as he bent forward to press a chaste kiss to your parted lips, swallowing your breathy whines with a satisfied expression playing over his face. “Come on, darling. Let’s hear how you sound falling apart on my cock, yeah?”

As if you even needed the encouragement.

Every muscle in your body tensed as a wave of unparalleled ecstasy crashed over you, and your hands flew to Sebastian’s shoulders to absentmindedly attempt to grasp at something to ground yourself. His movements didn’t stop as you writhed beneath him– milking every possible noise out of you with unconcealed fervor– and it was only when you sagged into the sheets twitching and whimpering that Sebastian let your legs drop to the sides so he could wrap his arms around you to give you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming too, your name tumbling over his lips as he fell alongside you.

“Fuck,” Sebastian murmured directly beside your ear, still draped in a boneless heap on top of you as you trembled against him. One of your hands slid up to bury your fingers in his tangled curls, and you mumbled something unintelligibly into the crook of his neck. He pulled back slightly to hear you better, “What?”

Your eyes were still glazed over as you came down from your post-coital high, “Are the Archives chock-full of sex books or something?”

Sebastian smirked tiredly at you, pulling out gently before collapsing beside you with his arms still wrapped securely around your waist. “One or two. Why?”

You stared up at the ceiling in a daze and shook your head softly to yourself, “Because you’re a little too good at that. It’s kind of scary.”

“Good scary or bad scary?”

“Good scary,” you clarified, turning over so you could face the brunet and smile softly at him. The way his entire face lit up at the sight of you would live on in your mind for years to come, you were sure, so you wistfully said, “We should do this again sometime.”

Sebastian paused, leaving you worried for a short second until he wriggled in a way that let him press his hard cock against your stomach, and he closed the distance between the two of you to give you a chaste kiss on your nose before grinning mischievously. “Like right now?”

You raised your eyebrows in silent surprise before laughing playfully, rolling over onto him before taking his face in your hands to kiss him deeply. It was a sweet moment– tender, affectionate, and heartwarming. It only ceased when you let go of his cheeks to move down his larger body, already itching to put your hands to better use.

The only thing that stopped Sebastian from staying holed up within the warm, comfortable confines of your bedroom with you forever was the imminent arrival of Monday, but Saturday and Sunday were days well spent. You were rather disappointed when your time together came to an end– enough so that you actually pouted when Sebastian had slid out from beneath the covers to get ready for work. Thankfully though, the Archivist was as unwilling as you were to call it quits after everything, and following a heated, lengthy kiss, he promised to come back as soon as he was able.

It only took him eight hours to find himself back in your bed, but you knew then that it would be impossible to stay away from him for very long from here on out.

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female!reader #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy oneshot #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow oneshot #my writing #the final word count for this being 6969 is honestly the highlight of my fucking month who would have thought #I'm just a large child

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leclercsainzz · 11 months

Text

MIDNIGHT RAIN

PAIRINGS: daniel ricciardo x singer!fem / horner!reader

TYPE: social media au

SUMMARY: in which she rewrites ‘midnight rain’ after their break up

part 1 - part 2

ynhorner

liked by carlossainz55, christianhorner and 583,891 others

ynhorner: “midnight rain” officially out everywhere!! ✨

view 7,938 comments

landonorris: already on repeat

therealgerihalliwell: so proud of you, beautiful!! ❤️

↳ ynhorner: thank you geri:) 😘

user: “he was sunshine, i was midnight rain” A BITCH IS FUCKEN CRYING RN, WTF

user: the way she compared danny to “sunshine” 😭

user: we officially know the reason they broke up now:(

↳ user: “he wanted a bride”

christianhorner: ❤️

user: “and the life i gave away” she’s definitely missing him

lewishamilton: you didn’t have to hit me like this 😔

↳ user: he’s so real for this!!!

user: “he wanted a bride” cannot stop crying 😭😭

maxverstappen1: spain without the “s”

↳ user: who taught him this!?!?? but he’s not wrong

danielricciardo

liked by schecoperez, charles_leclerc and 684,937 others

danielricciardo: returning back home 😊 @redbullracing

view 25,849 comments

user: SCREAMING OMG!!! welcome back, danny!!

christianhorner: glad to have you back!! ❤️

redbullracing: welcome back, honey badger 🤩

user: he’s returning!!! i hope my parents reconcile

↳ user: PRAYING!! 🙏🏼

user: he really is sunshine 😩

user: love that he kept his beautiful smile despite everything that happened

↳ user: pretty sure this is an old pic .. regardless of it, so am i!!

user: i lowkey want to know how christian felt with the whole yn-danny situation

user: i NEED a maxiel AND a yndaniel reunion ASAP!!!

user: yn better return home with danny bc i can’t take it anymore 😭 i miss my parents

user: i just saw the most gut-wrenching edit of yn & daniel to “right where you left me” on tiktok and i CANNOT stop crying for the love of god:((

↳ user: DROP THE LINK NOW!!!

ynhorner

liked by danielricciardo, estebanocon and 588,957 others

ynhorner: midnight & sunshine reunite ✨ (yes, we’re officially friends again, before anyone asks) @danielricciardo

view 8,839 comments

user: she knew everyone was bound to freak out once they saw this post which is why she wrote that caption

↳ user: i don’t blame her, tbh

user: THEY’RE HEALING, tHE WORLD IS HEALING, MY PARENTS ARE HEALING!!! 🥺❤️

user: freaking the fuck out over this!!!

danielricciardo: 😊

user: thE caption!! “midnight and sunshine reunite” i’m not crying, you are

↳ user: “midnight rain” really is THEIR song

user: she knows the power they hold over us

user: i’m glad they’re still in each others life, even as friends

user: when adele wrote, “even now when we’re already over, i can’t help myself from looking for you” she was talking about these two (yes, i know the song came out ages ago, now leave me alone .. thank you!)

↳ user: i saw so many edits of them with this verse and i cried every time

maxverstappen1: favs!! ❤️

↳ user: he’s a child of divorce like us

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zepskies · 6 months

Text

DEAN WINCHESTER ONE-SHOTS

Stories are Dean Winchester x Reader unless otherwise noted. These one-shots include reader requests.

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

Rest Dean is your rock, but you’ve become his place of rest.

Something Real** (Firefighter!Dean W. x Reader) Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

- [Part of the Smoke Eater-verse]

Down to the Crust You’ve set out on a very specific mission for Dean. The problem is, you now have ulterior motives for your (formerly) pure love of baking.

As You Wish When Dean agreed to watch your favorite movie with you, you didn’t think it’d come with live subtitles.

Sharing Is Caring (II) Navigating a new relationship means learning how to share a bed with Dean.

- [3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.]

Patched Up (I) How Dean thanks you for treating his wounds.

- [3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.]

Make It Right** - (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die.

Midnight Espresso-Verse** - (Dean x Plus-Sized!Reader) A Masterlist of stories in which Dean dates a curvy Latina.

Summary: You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.

Get Stuffed Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

- [Part of the Midnight Espresso-Verse]

The Old-Fashioned Way - (Dean x Soulmate!Reader) You and Dean are having trouble trying to start a family. What happens when you turn to a spell for a possible solution?

- [Part of the Never Say Goodbye-Verse]

Talk Bacon to Me A rare lazy morning where you feel like pestering Dean a little. He objects to being pestered, but ultimately, you both just want to spend some time together.

Easy Like Sunday Morning In which Sam is thoroughly done with motels, and you and Dean continue to make his life miserable.

Home Cooking Now that you and Dean have a daughter, living at the bunker with Sam means you get to be more domestic, to varying degrees of success. Dean learns to enjoy your attempts at cooking.

Damned If I Do - (Dean x Lisa B.) Lisa's thoughts as she fights for her life, and for her son, and this time for Dean.

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Supernatural Masterlist

Main Masterlist

✍️ Writer Support:

Have you enjoyed my Dean stories?

If you'd like to keep supporting me as I continue writing, here's a way to keep me caffeinated: Ko-Fi Me ☕

💌 Get Notified:

Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story.

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janeyseymour · 2 months

Text

Two Families Become One- pt 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: the last addition to this little verse for now- you and Melissa get married.

WC: ~2.45k

With the upcoming wedding, which both you and Melissa had agreed to be a very small gathering of family and the Abbott clan (much to Ellie’s dismay), along with the paperwork for Ellie to become an official Schemmenti just mere days after you, life was more than a little crazy.

Both of you were wrapping up the school year with teaching, Ellie was as hyperactive and excitable as ever with everything coming up, and nothing seemed to calm the chaos that was constantly overtaking your life at this point. It was far and few between at this point that you took her to the park or even got a moment of peace and quiet with your fiancée. No, those days were gone and replaced with various planning meetings- both for school and for your upcoming wedding, because even a small wedding requires much attention- alongside various meetings with the family lawyer that you had hired to ensure that Melissa could adopt Ellie without any flukes.

But the school year wraps up, Barbara helps to assist the two of you with anything from ensuring that your marriage license would be ready by the wedding date a week after classes were done to taking Ellie off of your hands so the two of you could head down to the law firm to finalize paperwork to simply helping organize all of the materials that had been used between both of your rooms to help lessen the ‘organized chaos’.

You remember asking Janine if she would stand there with you- because you wouldn’t have been able to make it through a lot of this without her entertaining your little girl. And of course, Barbara was asked to stand right alongside your soon-to-be wife when the day comes. Both women cried tears of joy as they launched themselves into your arms. Ellie, not wanting to be left out of the hugs, makes her way in and giggles.

You also remember asking the custodian of the school to be the one who marries you. He too had cried tears of joy and promised that he would do the two of you good. Although he was curious as to why you would ask him.

“You’re a part of Abbott too,” you told him quietly, hugging him tightly. “You’re part of the story too.”

And now, here you are standing in front of your family, Melissa’s family, and the rest of the Abbott crew while Mr. Johnson of all people marries the two of you. For a small affair, Ellie had begged you to do as much of a traditional wedding as possible. So, Melissa is standing up at the makeshift alter with Mr. Johnson as you hover over by one of the trees planted in the backyard just out of sight. Ellie is given the silent signal from your fiancée to start walking, and she giggles with glee as she twirls around and throws white rose petals into the yard. When she makes her way to Melissa, the little girl all but grabs her in a hug, forcing her to bend down and return it. With the way that everyone lets out a small, ‘aw’, your daughter hams it up and kisses Melissa’s cheek for good measure before taking her seat next to your mother and Melissa’s grandmother.

When Mr. Johnson hits play on his phone connected to the speaker and your music comes on, you turn away from the tree and make your way over to the ‘aisle’. Your breath catches in your chest as you glance at Melissa for the first time today. She looks… stunning. Her hair is perfectly curled, her makeup is done with precision and care, and she looks absolutely amazing in the white pantsuit that her and Barbara had slaved away at to make sure it fit just right.

Melissa’s mouth quite literally drops open at the sight of you. Tears instantly well in her eyes as she sees how… how perfect you look. You had opted for a white satin dress that you had found on Amazon to cut the costs, and Nonna herself had altered it so that it sat on your shoulders beautifully, the slightest cowl neck hanging just low enough to show off a bit of cleavage. Your hair is down with the softest braided headband to keep the flyaways away, and you smile softly at her. She nods, and you begin walking down with your father, who is an absolute blubbering mess despite already having done this once for you. He gives you away before engulfing the redhead in a hug. He whispers something in her ear, and she just nods gently before kissing his cheek. Your flowers are taken from your hand and given to Ellie, who was delighted when she found out that she would have the duty of holding onto your little bouquet for the ceremony.

You don’t remember much of Mr. Johnson’s opening remarks because you’re too distracted holding onto Melissa’s shaking hands in your own and looking into eyes that match the grass beneath you. It doesn’t much matter though, because Gerald has been given the job of recording everything for the two of you as a wedding gift.

What breaks you out of your trance is the custodian announcing that the two of you have written your own vows. You nod, and Barbara hands you the paper that you gave her to hold onto.

“I- wow,” you whisper as you take her hand again, the other holding the paper with your script on it. You turn to the small group gathered around. “For those of you who don’t know… Melissa and I didn’t actually meet at the school. No, we met after I flew across the country with nothing on my back but a backpack filled with clothes and toys for my daughter while we figured out what we were going to do away from Utah. A month into living with my parents, I was able to find an apartment that would be suitable for me and my little girl, and a week into living there… I met this one- or rather, I saw her. She was coming out of the apartment complex to get into her car, and I was trying to corral Ellie back into the bike trailer to get some dinner. Of course, little girl just had to throw a fit, one that Melissa witnessed.”

“Oopsies!” Ellie giggles, forcing a laugh from everyone in the audience.

“I was beyond embarrassed.” You turn to face your future wife again. “I probably looked like a terrible mother, stressed beyond all belief. And then… you came and knocked on my door, telling me that I looked real stressed and asking if I needed any help. Since then, you have been there for not only me, but for my little girl- soon-to-be our little girl. In the midst of all of my own drama and messiness, I gained a job, a friend, and then I fell for you, and I’m happy to say that I think you fell for me too?” That gets a chuckle out of everyone, including the woman standing in front of you. She nods warmly. “I could not be more grateful for the love and life that you have shown me; walks in the park, a warm home cooked meal on a good day or a bowl of soup when I’m down; flowers just to say ‘I love you’. You have always been there for me through the happy moments and also the moments of insecurity when it came to raising Ellie or a day at work, and I promise you that I will always be here for you- no matter what. Through the good times and the bad, thick and thin- and we’ve had plenty of both, I will spend the rest of my days proving to you that you, and Ellie, are all I could ever need. I will always be here… right by your side, loving you, even if it means that I have to be the one to rescue the stink bugs and take them out of the house.”

The redhead wipes her tears away from her face as she lets go of your hand to grab the paper that she had written on from her jacket pocket.

“Everyone here knows that I wasn’t too keen on getting married a second time,” she starts. “And I was hellbent on keeping that promise to myself, to keep my heart guarded and safe, until I met you and threw everything I knew out the window.”

Mr. Johnson nods his head in agreement, getting a laugh from those who were not standing on the little platform.

“I knew what I was getting into when I realized that I had feelings for you… that there would be times of uncertainty and doubt- times where things got messy, and surely they have,” she awkwardly chuckles. “But I also knew that I was always going to be second in your life… always trailing behind little miss Ellie girl.”

The little girl grins up at the two of you, with wide eyes.

“And second place is not a place that I would usually prefer, but I think I can handle it if it’s to the perfect daughter that you’ve raised and that I now get to help raise. I love you, and I love Ellie more than I ever thought I was capable of. I’ve cherished the good times, loved supporting you and loving you through the bad, and adored every other little moment in between. It has been my absolute honor getting to fall in love with you, and I only continue to fall more in love with you everyday. Everyday, you show me something new that not only surprises me, but gets me to fall that much deeper in love with you. And I know that you will only continue to surprise me and bring an abundance of life and love into my own life, and for that I am eternally grateful to you.”

She reaches up to gently wipe the tear that’s trailing down your face before smiling at you softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“I’m not done,” she smirks at you. She turns to Ellie and waves her up. The little girl looks confused, but she follows the order of her mother. You lift your daughter up to your hip and hold her there as you wait for Melissa to start again.

“I knew that marrying you also meant that I would be marrying into your little family, and I would have to step up and be a second parental figure to Ellie… so I want to make these vows to both of you.”

Ellie clutches at the necklace that the redhead gave to her when she asked if she could formally adopt her, tears already starting to pour down her face, with the biggest smile you think you’ve ever seen.

“I promise to love and support you both through thick and thin. I promise to make spaghetti when Ellie wants it, and to make you chicken noodle soup whenever you aren’t feeling well. I promise that I will always be here to help you through all of your doubts and fears, and I will always be there to celebrate the highs. We’ve been through it all at this point: from the start of our relationship, to celebrating birthdays and milestones at work, to right now. We’ve gotten through this much, and no matter what happens from here on out, I promise to be by your sides, loving you through it all. I promise you, that I will love the people that you become just as much as I love the people that you are today.”

You reach a hand up to wipe at the tears that are now hitting your chest in rapid succession from your little girl as she reaches for Melissa to hold her instead. The redhead of course takes Ellie into her arms, holding her tightly.

“I love you, little girl,” the second grade teacher whispers as she kisses your daughter’s cheeks.

“I love you too, Mommy,” Ellie chokes out.

Then her eyes meet your own. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Then you look to your little girl. “Alright, love bug. Go take your seat so Mom and I can officially get married.”

She squeezes Melissa tightly before letting her go. Then she squeezes you before rushing back to her seat in between your mother and Nonna.

Mr. Johnson says a few more things before he finally announces that the two of you are wife and wife, and then Melissa is dipping you and kissing you with passion. Your crowd hoots and hollers as they celebrate the fact that you’re now married and are a Schemmenti now.

The reception is really just a free for all at the Howard residence, everyone milling about and enjoying the various foods that the Schemmenti ladies had insisted on preparing for you all- their form of a wedding gift to the two of you. Kristen Marie even came and brought the cake from the bakery that she knows you absolutely adore. It’s beautiful, and it tastes even better than it looks.

“Know that if Mel was marrying anyone else,” the blonde tells you lowly. “I woulda brought a shit store-bought cake and laughed. But it’s you, and I know Ma and Nonna would kick my ass if I fucked up today for you and Ellie.”

You just laugh. “Kristen Marie, when are you going to just admit the fact that you love Mel.”

“Never.”

The party goes well into the night, but after a bit, Ellie is exhausted. The Howards have graciously told you that they would take your daughter in for the night, and once you get her settled in the guest room, you and your wife join the party again. It doesn’t last much longer, the older folk heading home for a decent night’s rest, and the younger finding their way out to allow you and your new wife to have a night together.

After helping clean up (despite the Howard protests), you too head out for your own home with promises that you’ll be back to pick up your daughter in the morning.

As soon as you make your way to the threshold, Melissa sweeps you into your arms with a chuckle, and she carries you through the front door. You giggle the entire time, and the next thing you know, you’re in bed seeing stars.

As you’re laying down in bed that night, Melissa pulls you in close. “Goodnight, my beautiful wife… Mrs. Schemmenti.”

Yeah… that feels right.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld

#melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic

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wood-white-writer · 6 months

Text

“Didn’t mean to make your heart Blue” || [9/…]

— OPLA!Buggy x F!Reader

“And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss.

Give me one good honest kiss and I’ll be alright.”

— Mitski, “Nobody”

Pairing: Buggy the Clown (Live Action) x F!Reader

Summary: You were an apprentice of Gol D. Roger’s crew in your youth, long before his eventual demise. Along with the Red-Haired Shanks and Buggy, you were a formidable trio; the embodiment of a new generation of pirates yet to come. But times changed, and so did you and your friends. In which there is lost affections, mentions of the past, and re-bonding over a bath. Unshared thoughts and feelings of regret return from years of negligence, and whereas some aspects remain buried, others have a chance to resurface from the depths.

Warnings: fem!reader, LA!Verse, slight canon divergence, morally grey reader, mentions of violence and blood, dual-pov (though primarily Buggy's), Buggy being a simp, implications of Buggy being a horny simp

A/N: AND HERE WE ARE! FINALLY, AFTER SO MANY WEEKS, THE NEW CHAPTER IS UP! Seriously, I want to thank you all for your immense patience and support. As I mentioned in a previous post, work has been hectic as hell and I know I wrote that this chapter would hopefully be finished last week, but life took its toll. Hopefully, you'll enjoy this chapter, though I myself have mixed feelings about it.

INCLUDES SOME SELF-MADE SKETCHES AT THE BOTTOM, so you’re warned

The sun warms your face as you breathe in the fresh scent of the sea. You’re lounging on deck, hands folded behind your head and feet hanging over the railings in a rather peculiar position, but you’re perfectly content.

Luffy benched you for the rest of the voyage to Arlong Park, a decision you initially found insulting to no short degree. Well, maybe benched is not the right term to use, but more like “I don’t want you to die, and I think you need to relax this once”.

You had argued that no, you’re fine and the love bites Arlong left you are nothing compared to the marks Mihawk left on Zoro, and he’s still up and about as usual.

But Luffy is firm about his decision, and what the Captain says goes.

So, here you are, enjoying some quiet all while letting your wounds heal, and it seems that nothing can hope to put an end to this ambiance that is—

“HEY! THERE ‘YA ARE!”

…. You spoke too soon. Way too soon.

A shadow falls over your face like a curtain and blocks the view of the sun. A shadow belonging to - you make a lucky guess - a severed head that’s been talking for way longer than a severed head typically should, in your experience.

You open one lazy eye to pinpoint the exact perpetrator and see a bright red dot staring down at you from Usopp’s grip.

Buggy winks at you, making those mildly irritating clink-clink noises.

“I can’t stand it anymore,” Usopp grumbles. “You take him! He’s annoying and keeps telling me my nose is too long!”

“Because it is, you shidiot!”

“It’s average!”

“That’s what your mom said!”

“You keep my mom’s name out of your mouth, you psychotic, fucking—!”

“Be quiet.”

Both the clown and the slingshot simultaneously shut their mouths before things have a chance to escalate on a non-verbal scale, and you take this as a sign that your break is officially over and buried ten feet under.

Stretching your arms out loud enough to pop a few vertebrae, you shift to lean your back against the railing and give both boys an unimpressed look-over, like a disappointed mother having caught both of her children in the act of something. “It’s too early for you to be making a ruckus.”

“It’s 11 am,” Usopp points out.

“Still too early.” Deciding that you’d rather not deal with this with more effort than you’re willing to spend, you return to your previous position. “Leave the head, or don’t. Just let me rest.”

“Fine by me.”

With a thud and an “OW FUCK!”, Usopp unceremoniously drops the clown and forgoes his Buggy-sitting duties to do whatever he wants to do, leaving you to pick up the slack.

A string of curses flow from Buggy’s mouth, which you only vaguely pay attention to. There was something along the lines of “Long-nosed asshat,” and “Right on the nose”, but you abandon all interest in favor of feeling the sun on your cheek.

“So…” you hear him jump a little closer. “Alone at last.”

You don’t answer.

“What? Don’t give me that! I thought we were good!”

You remain selectively mute.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me! I don’t like it!”

“You survived it for twenty years. I’m sure you can stand it for a few more minutes.”

“…. Seriously?”

“Mhmm.”

You don’t know what possesses him, but he keeps quiet for most of the next thirty minutes, and you take the time to continue basking in the sun.

It’s a luxury you can rarely afford, and you’ll be damned if it gets ruined now or all time, least of all by him. You’re not going to even open the can of worms that is last night’s events, so you lock it in a chest to be dug up for another day.

Not now. It won't be that long until you reach Arlong Park, and shit will go down. This might be the only chance you get to replenish your strength and gods do you need it now more than ever.

"… Hey?” Buggy starts.

You let him decide whether to perceive your silence as an opening or a locked door.

“I’m bored.”

“Tough.”

“Can’t we do something else?”

“We could fish. Your head might serve as a good bait.” Despite yourself, your lip tugs a little in what is supposed to be a halfway smirk. The image of Buggy dangling above the shark-infested waters from a hook to his bandana would be an entertaining sight to behold.

He swallows audibly. “Was that a joke?”

“Keep bothering me and we’ll find out soon enough.”

“C’mon! Don’t be like that! Seriously, I’m bored! Ain’t much you can do when you’re just a head… except to give one, but that’s beside the point.”

Too much detailing, you think. He wants entertainment of any kind; you want peace and quiet. What to do and how to kill two birds with one stone? You open one eye and let it drift over to Buggy, who in turn is staring intently at you.

In the sun, you make out every detail of his rugged face. His make-up’s almost wiped completely off the skin, with only remnants of the red lipstick and blue diamonds vaguely in place. His stubbles have grown slightly, given the lack of access to a barber, and if you get close enough, he probably stinks of—

A lightbulb goes off in your head. A devious one, blinking to every corner of your brain.

Despite what anyone thinks, you’re not above being petty.

With a push, you sit up and glance over at him. “Anything?”

Buggy raises his eyebrows and nods desperately. “Yeah! Anything! As long as I ain’t got to sit here doing naught-shit, I’m game!”

You turn to him, put each of your hands to the edges of his jaw, and lift him a little closer to you. Whether from the sun or just him alone, he’s warm and soft under your digits.

“Alright,” is all you say.

Buggy beams much like the bulb in your head, and a loud bark of laughter erupts from his mouth. You almost pity him, pity him for being oblivious to what’s to come.

But it needs to be done.

There’s no other way around it and he’s had it coming. He deserves this, you tell yourself. He deserves every inch of ruthlessness you can offer, and you’ll deliver.

————

Buggy blanches, lips wobbling in horror as he slowly glances up at you. Betrayal fills his bright-blue eyes and, for the first time since Orange Town, he sees you as the beast you both know you are.

He’s afraid.

He’s afraid of you.

He knows you can be vindictive; he knows you can be brutal, but in all the time he’s known you, he’s never perceived you as cruel.

Maybe it’s time for him to reassess that thought.

“No,” he whispers softly. “No, please.”

Your face is blank, and cold, and he doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the light or not, but there’s a shadow across your face that darkens everything but your eyes. Those bright eyes he used to hold in such high regard.

“You want my forgiveness,” you state calmly as you gradually lower him to his demise. “You have to earn it.

“Please, anything but this. I’ll do anything other than this!”

But his pleas earn no mercy from you. He wiggles in your grasp like a fish out of water, and as much as he tries to beg and move and free himself, your hold is iron incarnate.

Buggy lets out an ear-curdling scream the moment he feels the water under his neck.

“NOOOOO!”

————

Honestly, how childish, you think as you begin to soak him in the basin you procured from the kitchens. He hisses like a cat as you pour the water over his head, rinsing his hair. Try as he might, he cannot escape your grasp.

It’s not even deep enough to reach his chin, and still, he acts like it’s acid he’s been thrown into.

But you’re determined, this has to be done.

“Oh, quit whining” you chastise, getting drops of water your way with all his scuttling. “You need this.”

“You’re gonna drown me!” he accuses.

“It’s soap and water, and it’s not even that deep.”

“You say that now, sure! But the moment you let go, plop! Oh, there goes Buggy the Clown! Taken from this world too early!”

You roll your eyes. “I’m holding you up, you’re not going to drown. Now, stop acting like a child.”

Buggy is restless and continues to thrash around for a good ten seconds more before finally relenting, a look of sour disapproval on his face. It’s so caricatured and animated that it threatens to make a suppressed chuckle leave your throat.

He still looks the same when he’s mad.

Now that he’s finally calm, you lower him so that the edge of his neck finally stands on the bottom of the basin. Then, you soak a rag and raise it towards his face.

Buggy flinches. “Can you …. Eh… leave the face?”

“There’s hardly anything there anymore, and it’ll irritate your skin if you leave it on for too long.”

“I think I can tell you what irritates me or not, like this bird bath for instance, thank you very much.” He scowls and edges further away from the wet rag. “Seriously, just leave it.”

“I’ll reapply the make-up.”

“… What?”

When you first boarded the Merry, you happened to find some leftover make-up hidden away in one of the shelves. It was strange, considering how the boat was freshly built, and imagined that one of the builders had taken some personal liberty in the large space before the project was finished.

For whatever reason, you didn’t throw it out, though you didn’t use it yourself.

If it can get him to accept the fact that he needs a wash, you’re willing to do it.

“I’ll put on your make-up if I can wash off what you currently have,” you clarify. “Deal?”

Buggy goes quiet, and his eyes widen slightly, but not out of horror or dread. It’s more like … when you catch the sight of something unexpected; a delayed reaction that stirs feelings you have yet to decipher.

Finally, after some internal debates with himself, Buggy nods. “Fuckin’ fine then,” he utters, and despite the crudeness of his words, they’re lenient.

Content, you gently place your free hand to his left to keep him stable and use the other one to carefully drag the rag across his stained cheek.

Buggy watches you intently through the process, never taking his eyes off you unless you’re wiping off the painted diamonds on his eyes. Your hands, for once, are soft to the touch. They’re soft for him, as though a single misplaced touch might shatter him like glass.

He used to be acquainted with the soft touches long before the cold and brutal ones. Soft fingers that pinched his cheeks as you helped apply the paint over his face.

Soft touches against his arm when he was feeling particular for some reason, whether it was good or bad.

Your fingers intertwined with his’ as you came to terms with your captain’s death, sitting by the edge of the docks as the rain poured from above. It was cold, he was freezing, and too close to the waters for his comfort, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the rain with you and share the heat from your fingers.

Even after everything, you’re still capable of reserving those touches for him.

After wiping the makeup completely off him, you raise the cup and fill it with water. “Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t want to, but he does and feels the water rushing down like the rain on those docks.

When he’s finally finished, you fish him up from the basin and put him down atop a soft towel on the table. Like a cat, he instinctively shakes off the residue of water, only to find you already raising a new towel towards him.

He stops moving, and you takes this as your cue to continue. You’re attentive, he notices. You wipe his face first, then his ears, then his hair. You dry it and scratch his scalp at the same time through the fabric, and he instinctively leans against your touch.

This is … nice.

“When did you cut your hair?” You ask out of the blue as you continue to dry him, making sure to leave no spot too humid.

He almost failed to catch onto your words with how at ease he is. “Hmmm?”

“You used to have long hair before,” you elaborate. “Why did you cut it?”

“…. Too much of a hassle to maintain,” he answers after some thought. “It’s hard to find the time to take care of it.”

“… I see.”

The truth is, he cut it right after he left. Not particularly clean either. You know that feeling you get when you feel like you’re losing control, and ridding yourself of any additional weight seems to relieve it?

Well, that’s what Buggy did.

He cut it with a pair of rusty scissors, severing chunks at a time — some bigger than others — until all he was left with was pieces sticking out to each side like a madman.

It didn’t help though. It didn’t make him feel any lighter from the weight on his chest. From that gnawing feeling.

Still, he maintained the habit and got better with practice. It became more of a practical thing with time; he was a busy man, and he could do well with fewer things to get in his eyes, but it never eased the pain.

But feeling the tips of your fingers lightly graze his hair, however, he feels more relieved than he’s done in the last twenty years.

After a few minutes, you remove the towel and give him a neutral one-over. It’s the first time you’ve seen him as an adult without any of that makeup, and you’re reminded of just how much he’s changed, but also how he’s not.

Even after all this time, it’s still Buggy.

Buggy sees you watching him, and he can’t help but feel slightly self-conscious now that your eyes are on him without his usual armor.

But you don’t comment on it, nor show any surprise in any sense of the word. There are times when he hates your face, not because of anything superficial, but because you make it so damn challenging for him to figure out what goes in that brain of yours. He’s reminded of how you were when you were younger, how lifeless you used to be, and it feels like you’ve regressed to that state.

Another thing to add to the shitlist of things he’s regretful about.

He licks his lips and opens his mouth to say something when the door suddenly bursts open. Buggy jumps whereas you merely look over your shoulder to spot Zoro standing there, his eyes narrowed between you and the clown.

Buggy frowns.

“Zoro,” you speak plainly, as if you failed to notice his annoyance towards the spectacle presented before him. “Is there anything?”

“The hell is this?” His eyes flicker between you and Buggy like it’s the worst show on earth. “What’s going on?”

“He reeked,” you explain. “I have merely been rectifying it for the sake of our noses.”

Buggy wants to argue with the statement that No, he fucking doesn’t, but he suppresses it for the sake of figuring out where this conversation’s headed.

“Since when do we make it a habit of bathing prisoners?” Zoro asks, his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“Since when have we had prisoners?” You counter.

The swordsman scoffs. “The clown’s needed upstairs in ten.”

“Sure.”

“I’m right here, you know?”

Zoro gives him a nasty look and nothing more before heading back out the door, shutting it with a forceful thud.

“Why do you even stick around with these nobodies?!” Buggy questions. “They can’t navigate for shit, they have no sense of preservation, and they suck at fighting!”

You shift back to raise a knowing eyebrow at him. “They defeated you, didn’t they?”

“That’s—! … I was outnumbered, it wasn’t a fair fight!”

“No fights are fair in the life of piracy,” you point out.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “All I’m saying is, you’re too powerful to be with these losers. You could join my crew! Think about it! We’d be unstoppable!”

“You mean, join the same people who locked me up and whose asses I subsequently kicked?”

“Exactly! Don’t worry, they’ll get over it! Once they see how awesome you are, they’ll accept you with open ar—!”

“I decline.”

Buggy pauses, his enthusiasm promptly vanishing and getting replaced with bitter disappointment. “You’re not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?” You wipe away a descending drop from his right eye. “I have no interest in joining another crew.”

“You say that, and yet here you are with these losers.”

“I was never going to stay permanently.”

He pauses. “You weren’t?”

“I’m here for Luffy, and once I’ve decided that he can hold his own weight above the waters, I’ll leave.”

“… Where will you go? After, then?”

It takes you a moment to answer, like you don’t know the answer yourself quite yet. Your hand stills for a moment before resuming with the task at hand.

“Who knows?” You shrug. “The sea is my home. I’ve missed it, so I will remain where the waves pull me.”

That won’t do on its own. Stay with me. Buggy wants to ask, and if he had knees, he’d ask on them. Come with me. Be with me. You won’t have to be an official member of his crew; you don’t have to bend to him. You just have to stay.

Stay with him.

That’s all he’ll ask.

Stay with him until he has the opportunity to figure out a way to make it up to you.

Stay with him so he can compensate for the twenty years you suffered in each other’s absences.

Just stay.

“Hey.” He’s surprised by his own initiative. “Why’d you even leave your crew and stick your feet on land if you love the sea so much?”

You raise an eyebrow in question.

“I mean, you were Captain of the Cross-Haired Pirates, for crying out loud! You used to be legendary!” He proclaims, almost saddened by your apparent dismissal of your previous title. “You had fame, berries, a reputation that preceded everyone! Everyone feared you! Why’d you ditch all of that? Because of that rubbery prick? Because of Shanks?”

“Is that really what you want to ask me?”

“Yeah!”

You sigh through your nose and put the towel down to recline in your chair. “I didn’t become a Captain because that’s what I wanted. I became a Captain because it provided an outlet.”

“An outlet? For fucking what?”

It takes you a few seconds to finally reach a suitable response.

“Anger,” you admit calmly, your arms crossing over your chest as the words stir on your tongue. They must taste bitter. “I was angry, and it festered every day, churning into a poisonous substance in my body. Being a captain with a crew, I could take it out on whoever I wanted. Pirate, marine, unruly crew member, it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.”

It makes sense now, he thinks, the reputation you’ve garnered over the years. Beware the Beast in the East, people would chant in passing towns and harbors, like you were a ghost story. Her eyes were like swords, and her hands were twice as sharp.

There wasn’t a single place where blood didn’t paint your steps.

He never met you while you were a captain; he didn’t want to, couldn’t find it in himself to pop by even once. Still, he kept your poster hidden in the dark depths of the chest in his quarters, if only for acrimonious reminiscence. He would spend some drunken nights doing nothing but staring at it, and it was like he could feel your rage seep through the ink on the page and scorch his fingers. A reminder of what he did.

Now, looking at you and comparing you to the poster, he fails to see the resemblance. He doubts he could’ve spotted it had you reunited earlier on. Captain Cross-Hairs was sharp around the edges, with pecks of blood on her cheeks and fresh scars on her face.

He licks his lips in deliberation. “You were pissed… because of what?”

Because of me?

“I don’t know.” He watches your chest expand with your breath, mesmerized simply by watching you commit to living. There used to be a time when you didn’t. “I didn’t care about money or power. I didn’t care for much of anything, except to purge that rage from my body. I fought, and I killed. It helped, for a time; I felt satisfied, but after a while, you grow bored of eating the same meal.”

When he looked at you when you were younger, he imagined he saw the scorching sun. Burning and bright and enlightening.

You were … everything, but he never imagined that the same fire that used to mesmerize him would burn a thousand ships in his absence.

But he was a boy back then. He’s older now, more experienced in the ways of life, he knows better.

He knows enough.

"But the boy," you say with a certain gentleness in your voice that does not evade his notice. "He's good."

"He's weak," Buggy scoffs, feeling his belly fill with sour smoke. He recognizes the feeling. It's the feeling he got when he watched Shanks talk to you that night by the fire. The same feeling he got when he watched you stay with Shanks that day.

"He's defeated every opponent he's come across."

"Didn't beat Arlong, though." Buggy points out with a smidgen of childish pride and smirks. "Got his ass handed to him real good if I remember correctly."

You look back at him in that narrow way you usually reserve for him when he's crossed a line, and he can already tell he fucked up.

"I watched him grow, Buggy.” You say firmly. “I was there for all of it. I watched him learn, I watched him fight, I watched him leave land. He’s not like us — he doesn’t waste time on regret. He’ll become better than we ever were.”

Buggy glowers but doesn’t say anything else, insisting on letting your words simmer in his brain until he can find the will to let them go.

You procure something from the drawers and it’s only when he looks down that he realizes it’s the make-up. With gentle hands, you lift him and place him in your lap, the brush already blue and ready.

“I’m not here to talk about what used to be,” you say. “Now hold still.”

The diamonds across his eyes come first, the brushing makes his face tickle and it’s only by sheer willpower alone that he manages to refrain from staring at you.

“Takes us back,” he whispers and closes his eyes so that you can finish. “Doesn’t it?”

He hears something akin to a chortle that doesn’t quite reach your throat, but he considers it a small win.

“You looked a mess,” you answer. “A child could’ve done a better job than I did.”

“Wasn’t bad for your first try, though.”

Except that it was. It was pretty bad. Your hands were shaking, and you held your breath like you were afraid of making a mistake. By the time you were finished, he looked like a canvas painted by a child, but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that.

He used to think that it was strange. You were skilled at nearly everything you committed yourself to, without even trying.

When he thinks back on it, maybe it wasn’t skill; maybe it was just an ingrained fear of failure that drove you to become the best at what you did.

Then again, your worst could never be the worst in his eyes.

You finish his eyes, and when he looks up at you, he sees the same determination and focus in your eyes as he did that day. It’s the same look you have when you’re targeting something, be it an enemy or a point of interest. It’s always the same.

And he can’t look away.

You move onto the crossbones next, and he’s happy he won’t have to close his eyes for this one. He’s not certain you can pull off his iconic look, but he’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.

After all, you strive for perfection. He doubts this will be an exception.

Get it? Perfection and except— You know what? Nevermind.

He can feel your attention in every stroke of the brush, feel the white paint glisten on his skin before it dries. Your warmth lingers like burning embers, he feels like getting too close will burn him, yet he wants nothing more than blisters upon his skin.

He looks at you, looks into your focused eyes, and he feels … something tightening, back where his body is. It could be his stomach, his head… other places, but he can’t tell. Arlong’s been busy abusing his body long enough that he can’t differentiate between a kick or a punch anymore.

But this isn’t Arlong.

It’s you.

He can handle a tight body if it’s because of you.

When he was young, and his body began to work in the way of a man, he would sometimes wake up and feel sweaty and … stiff. He knew enough to know what it was, to know what caused it, but he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

He knew the source of his frustrations. He knew how to alleviate them, but he didn’t. He respected you far too much to ever dare cross the threshold. He figured that simply talking to you, simply holding your hand, and being at your side would be enough. He would be content with just that.

But he watched you … develop. It didn’t seem like such a big deal at the time, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the sight. He imagined feeling your flesh under his digits. The softness across your chest and hips. The warm skin.

He looks at you now, sees the scars peeking from under your shirt, on your face, and he wants to feel the rough edges.

Buggy gulps and he’s rather happy now that the rest of his body is not attached to him. He’s lost enough dignity as it is.

“And now, the mouth.”

Yes, he wants to touch that t—

You take the lipstick, and in a straight line, smear it across his mouth in a way that snaps him out of his thoughts. He can feel the warmth emitting from your thumb as you finish his face, and it takes him half a mind not to—

“Done.”

Disappointment lingers in the clown’s visage, and even when you present him a mirror and see the identical likeness to his wanted posters, it does not alleviate the feeling. For what it's worth, he's impressed with how far your make-up-applying skills have reached since last time.

It's perfect.

But it means you’re done, and the nobodies require his flashy expertise to get Miss Ginger back.

You dump the discolored water out and put the rest of the equipment away, and he feels his head weigh another ten pounds at so. He somewhat hopes it would; maybe it would be heavy enough that you wouldn’t bother carrying him up the deck?

… Oh, who is he kidding? It’s you. You won’t have any trouble in that department even if he were to weigh as much as a boulder. Ten boulders, even.

To his surprise, instead of reaching for him, you lounge back into your seat and nonchalantly cross your arms and ankles. He’s confused. Weren’t you going to go up with him already?

“If Zoro needs you, he can get you himself.”

That’s what you’ll leave it be like. He, freshly washed, dried, and painted. You, just casually sitting like you have no urgency to get back to the world.

“He’ll be pissed at you,” Buggy warns. “And probably threaten to throw you into the sea.”

You shrug, your eyes already closed, giving him no indication whatsoever that you’re particularly concerned with the veryscary swordsman. He grins with all his teeth on show.

Unfortunately, the green-haired asshole turns up not even five minutes later. All but ripping the clown by the roots of his hair and taking him away like a sack of flour. Buggy spews curses and threats, but they all fall on deaf ears.

It’s only when he’s positioned on deck that he’s finally free of his torment, if only for an hour or two. He begrudgingly instructs the long-nosed slingshot where to sail, adding a few creative insults along the way. Hey, it’s not Buggy’s fault they’re too easy to rile up.

“Is that long nose compensating for something?”

To which he earned a slap to the back of his head. From whom, he doesn’t know, but he’ll take his victories in whatever light weight they come in.

After a while, he shifts his head to eject another insult to the slingshot when he sees that you’re standing a few feet away, your arms crossed while leaning against the railing; eyes closed but face focused and attentive.

He cuts his verbal daggers down a notch.

It gets late, the sky darkens, and one after another, the crew members resign to their chambers save for the slingshot, who still insists on going for a while longer. Him, and you, surprisingly enough.

You stay, for all of it; neither complaining nor muttering a sound.

You're stoically positioned on the sidelines, hardly moving at all. He would've died if he'd been standing in the same position for more than one hour, but you endured a total of six without a shiver or a strain. Like a soldier in the rain. A monk in a temple of thorns.

A beast in an empty forest, lonesome in its hunger, yet content with what content remains buried in its stomach for the time being.

Long-nosed slingshot finally calls it a night and withdraws from the steering wheel with his hands outreached for the head. Before his dirty fingers can hope to graze the magnificent head that is Buggy's, you stretch your arm out like a shield between them.

"I'll take him."

Slingshot snorts. "Really? You want to?"

"Do you want to?"

With his hands raised in mock surrender, Slingshot relents. "... Fine, be my guest."

With a nod, you take the head and retire back to your chamber on the ship. Buggy yawns in your arms, tired, but satisfied with the warmth embracing him. Your steps feel like waves with each one you take, nudging him further and further toward the edge of sleep. Only unadulterated stubbornness keeps him awake.

It darkens for a moment. When he rouses back, he feels softness underneath him. A pillow of sorts, not comforting enough to offer him sleep, but enough to keep him relaxed.

He nudges around, like a fish in a small bowl, only to find that he's not on the table, nor in a barrel, nor a bag. The surface beneath him is made of fabric, and swings with his movements.

He's in a hammock.

More precisely, your hammock.

“Sleep.” He hears your command.

He finally locates you, seated by the window of your cabin with your palm under your chin, staring out into the darkened ocean.

He turns, voice diluted with drowsiness. “You too…”

“Soon.”

“Now," he almost whines.

The look you give him is not any different from the kind you usually provide, but it lacks the usual undertone of annoyance. He can tell you're tired, even if you're refusing to show it. The shadows under your eyes stand out more prominently, even in the dimmed candlelight.

With an inaudible sigh, you stand and while he expects you to move towards the hammock, he's disappointed to see you aiming towards the door instead.

"H-Hey, where are you going?"

"The kitchens," you respond. "You can sleep here for the night; I'll take the couch."

"That's not necessary!" He wiggles so that he can look at you from over the edge of the hammock, careful as not to fall from the height. A thought dawns over him, one that makes his cheeks feel warm. "We- We can share! I don't take a lot of space!"

"You still take up too much of it."

"Are you calling me fat?!"

He's almost insulted when you don't answer to contradict his assumption, yet despite the innate urge to defend his honor and spew shit at you, he decides to let it slide.

"C'mon! I promise I'll behave," he tries again. "You'll hardly notice me. Those couches suck balls anyway, so why not?"

He watches you give it some thought for probably a good two minutes. He expects you'll decline his proposition, finding that your own pride weighs more than the need for decent sleep.

Then, you lower your shoulders in defeat and make your way over to the hammock. "Scoot over."

He obliges rather excitedly, and when he wiggles back a bit too much to make space, he can feel gravity threaten to drop him on the other side of the hammock. Before it gets to that point, you grab him by the side of his face and hold him until you can lift yourself and lay down.

Only then do you lay him down, on the right side of your abdomen. He's mindful of the wounds that have yet to heal there, so he tries not to invade too much. Still, he can't deny, he's quite comfortable. Very comfortable.

He's the most comfortable he's been in a long time - twenty years.

He surpasses the urge to push closer to you, share your warmth, and elects to look up at the ceiling instead.

"Hope you don't snore," he jokes, only to have a yawn follow promptly behind.

"I don't snore," you answer, deadpan. "Now go to sleep."

He's not convinced, but he doesn't comment on it. This peace hangs by a thread, and he'll be damned if it's cut short now of all times. He shuts his eyes, and in his dreams, he's presented with the sun on the blue skies above.

He feels warm all over.

----

Taglist: @kurinhimenezu, @carpinchootaku, @ay0nha, @teh-vampire-bunny, @lokiscure, @internationalsuper-spy, @detectivesparrow , @yuriwk , @notyuralycat, @angeli-fucking-cat, @machinema7k , @shuujin, @avatar-lover, @gingernut1314, @autumn-slaves. @marvelouskatie, @floristoflillys, @dizzyenby, @redpool, @deliri-yum22, @aemondsb1tch, @ackroxia, @gayandfairycore, @knightsfavoriteprincess, @asterizee, @aamethyst23, @lizzie1107, @cyberwears, @heylookliisten, @f41k47, @beep-beep1, @crimsonflameproxy, @unpopular-sober-thoughts, @rayleeya, @timeladyrikaofgallifrey, @fanshavegottensotoxic, @fluffybunnyu, @sirenmelody23

(If you want to be tagged for this story, just send me a message or leave a comment :))

(Additionally, some sketches of how I imagine Cross-Hairs to look like while I’m writing.)

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x you #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x female reader #DMTMYHB #didn’t mean to make your heart blue

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sofasoap · 1 year

Text

Miss Moonlight

Pairing : Kyle “ Gaz” Garrick x F!reader + 141

Summary: Dodging Soap, proposal and wedding bell.

Part 4.5 to Miss Sunshine series.

I write things backwards sometimes.

Warning: M theme, otherwise overall fluff.

Gaz route for my Mini MacTavish verse.

As always, Thanks to mother of my Mini MacTavish @saltofmercury for lending me the character “Mini” from her story. Go read her “The Favorite MacTavish” !

“Masterlist”for other stories to this Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

“KYLE, KYLE WAKE UP!”

Gaz swats the hand that is currently slapping his head away, flipping the pillow on top of his head, mumbling incoherently something about Price giving him a day off so he doesn’t have to hose down Ghost and feed Soap.

“Wha…nevermind. I don’t want to know what you boys do at the base, come on wake up!”

“JOHNNY IS HERE!”

You have never seen your boyfriend move so fast in his life before, jumping up from bed, about to run out of the room until you pull him back, nearly falling onto the bookshelf full of the trinkets he gifted you.

Throwing his underwear into his face, “Put some clothes on first!”you hissed.

“He’s inside the house already?”

“Bloody Emma forgot that you were staying over, and she let him in before asking!” quickly throwing a jean and some t-shirts on, you gave him a quick kiss, “I told him I’ll go out for breakfast with him, you know the drill.”

Sudden loud knocking sound on your bedroom door, startling both of you.

“Mini! You decent?”

“NO!!!! Give me Five minutes!” Yelling back as you start throwing Gaz’s stuff into the duffle bag. You were absolutely fuming.

This game of cat and mouse happened so many times after you two reconciled and finally confessed your feelings to each other. It was hard because Soap had a bad habit of showing up at your doorstep, either unannounced, or only informing you of his visit merely a few hours before he dropped in.

“Just want to see my favourite sibling’s face,” he claims.

“John MacTavish, I am your ONLY sibling.”

You suspect other than seeing you, he is here for someone else too.

Thanking his military training for the stealthing ability while you and Emma distract Soap, Gaz always manages to sneak out without being detected.

Gaz eventually gets sick of hiding all the time. He wants to make him yours. And you, officially his.

He took you out for a picnic, up high on a hill, looking right down to a field of sunflowers. How fitting. You were wearing your favourite sunflower dress that day.

You ran around the field, laughing, enjoying the rare chance of basking in the pleasant heat of late summer sun on your skin.

That beautiful smile of yours. The one he fell in love with. He want to keep that smile on your face forever.

“Come on Kyle!”

He laughed, shaking his head, motioning you to come back and sit down.

You drop yourself onto the picnic mat gracelessly, fanning yourself with your straw hat, trying to catch your breath. Gaz passed you a bottle of water, watching as droplets of water trickled down the chin.

He leaned in, wiping it away with his thumb before tugging you in for a deep kiss.

“... Marry me.” he whispered while both pulled away from each other for air. Digging out the ring from his back pocket, he adjusted himself, getting on one knee, “ First time Soap showed me a picture of you, I fell hopelessly in love with you. Even before I met you.” his eyes brimming with tears as he continued, slightly choking, “ Please marry me, my love, my sunshine. I promise I will cherish you forever.”

His hand slightly shaking, looking at you with round puppy eyes, waiting for your answer. You pulled away from him, a moment of panic appeared in his eyes until he saw you pulling out a little velvet box, and started laughing with joy.

It’s amazing both of you had the same idea, to do it on the same day.

Gaz’s mouth dropped open when he saw you walking down the aisle.

With the sun setting in the background, you look like an angel, in a simple pink chiffon sleeveless floor length dress, accentuating your pregnant figures beautifully.

He is on the verge of tears.

“Hello husband.”

“Hello my beautiful wife.” Looking down at the belly, lightly patting it. “Hello bub.”

Even though two of you are already married, as Johnny claims, “ to appease me and soothe my anger”, two of you decided to have a small unofficial ceremony and reception at your parent’s farm house, with close team members and friends invited.

Food and drinks flowing, laughter all round. Everyone was having a good time. It’s one of the rare moments Gaz sees his brothers-in-arms relaxing, not having a care in the world.

Leading you out of the gazebo and onto the outdoor dance floor, he twirls you around before pulling you back into his embrace, swaying around to a slow dance.

“How did I get so lucky?” Gaz murmured in your ear. You smiled as you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, “I am the lucky one. A husband who loves me, a bunch of great friends, a loving family, well, as soon as Johnny’s anger subsides.” you laughed.

“Looking at the way he is flirting away with your friend, I think he is pretty anger-free.”

“Is that the third bottle of whisky Price is on???? I swear he is only here for the drink…”

“Let him be. My parents had a whole heap of vintages in the distillery cellar, kept for both Johnny and my special occasions.”

“ Well at this rate, there will be none left for Soap!” Gaz has to admit it was great to see his captain‘s eyebrow not knotted together for once.

“See that lady over there?” you tilt your head towards the far table and whisper like a great secret. “That’s the reason why Simon was messaging me.” Gaz chuckled. Now he knows the secret, he can get his revenge.

“Oh!” You yelp a little,as both of you feel the little baby kicking away. “Alright alright, daddy will dance with you as well.” Sliding one of his hands down,placing it gently on top of your belly, while the other is still holding yours, both of you continue to dance under the moonlight.

Life couldn’t be more perfect.

taglist:

@deadbranch

@josephquinnswhore

@lia0-0

@voxyin

@cotton-charms

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x female reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick #cod mw2 #gaz need more love #gaz garrick x reader #task force 141 #time zone reblog

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world-cinema-research · 2 months

Text

The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

By Carly Leavitt-Hullana (THE 112-SP '24)

The film I saw was The Amazing Spider-Man starring Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone, (see trailer below). This movie was released in July of 2012, 10 years after the original Spider-Man was released starring Tobey Maguire. I chose this movie as it was one of the first movies I remember fully and joyfully watching, as I was six years old at the time. My mom bought us the Blu-ray DVD when it came out in November, and my sister, my two cousins and I would watch it all of the time; so that another major impact of this movie was simply spending time with my family.

youtube

Official Trailer for The Amazing Spider-Man (Youtube)

In regards to the box office numbers, this film was commercially successful as the budget was about 220-230 million dollars and made $262,030,633 domestically and $495,895,604 internationally, or $757,890,267 worldwide. Although the opening weekend only raked in 23.7% of total gross, $62,002,688 respectively, it still performed well and the DVD and Blu-ray sales also performed admirably with a total of $113,789,781 domestically, (The Amazing Spider-Man (2012) Box Office Numbers via THE NUMBERS). Staying a little below trend with the commercial aspects, the movie was still critically successful with ratings of 6.9/10 for IMDb, a 71% for Rotten Tomatoes, and 66% for Metacritic. Regardless, the film is considered successful in both aspects as it made 2x the budget just from the domestic box office sales and received highly related reviews. One review is from Roger Ebert, who claims The Amazing Spider-Man is "...probably the second best [out of the Spider-Man franchise]." In the same article, "A remake that's also a reboot," he gives the film a 4.5/5 star rating. He also touches on an aspect that many of those who have watched the film appreciate; the screen time given to show Parker's story as well as an explanation why he decides to step into his newfound role, (A remake that’s also a reboot via Roger Ebert).

The movie begins with Parker as a child when he still lived with his parents, who soon dropped him off to board at his aunt and uncle's house and then mysteriously disappeared. Leaving behind a bag with his father's work that Parker finds at the beginning of the film, which then sends him on a hunt for answers that leads him to the "Tower," also known as the headquarters of Oscorp where his father's former research partner currently works, (The Amazing Spider-Man Summaries/Synopsis via IMDb).

The background story of Peter Parker is rather tragic, however, the producers used it to their advantage to bring in a larger audience in addition to the action scenes. Along with the star actors including Andrew Garfield, Emma Stone, and Rhys Ifans and even Stan Lee's cameo where he plays the librarian in a fight scene. With the rating of the film being PG-13, that the directors represented the film to the proper audience of young teenagers and family, which also contributed to the high viewing and ratings. Even watching the Peter Parker Wake Up Scene (see below), you can see that this is a high-action, suspenseful movie that keeps you on the edge of your seat, pretty spot on with what I remembered.

youtube

The Amazing Spider-Man Wake Up Scene (Youtube)

On the other hand, a restraining factor that might have prevented more viewers from seeing this film is how recent the film came out in consideration to the original Spider-Man with Tobey Maguire. As I mentioned earlier, The Amazing Spider-Man only came out 10 years after the first Spider-Man, and 5 years after Spider-Man 3, so potential viewers who do not follow the Marvel-verse have a subsidiary probability of viewing the movie. Even so, looking at current reviews The Amazing Spider-Man (see promotional flier below) with Andrew Garfield is still loved, however recent adaptations starring Tom Holland are more favored.

The Amazing Spider-Man Promotional Movie Poster

Although this movie is categorized as conventional, there are some unconventional themes that can be observed throughout the movie. Such as the controversial dispute Parker exchanges with Captain Stacy, where he claims the police are not doing their jobs effectively enough and that the "amateur in a suit" is only trying to help and do what the police are failing to do. Seeing as I was only six at the time I watched this movie, I cannot attest to society's views on the police in 2012, however it is a very controversial topic that is talked about more and more today. Another controversial topic that stood out to me is how the police and government try to downplay Lizard's sighting on the bridge. Which reflects the lack of information from government officials and framing of news coverage we experienced then and especially now in America. An example can be said about the death of the French photographer Remi Ochlik and war reporter Marie Colvin, who died from a Syrian attack in 2012. It is believed that they were targeted by Assad for speaking out, however the media framed them as being accidentally caught in the crossfire as they were suspected of being "rebel forces," Journalists Marie Colvin and Remi Ochlik die in Homs via BBC News).

Overall, there are a lot of new affairs I gathered after re-watching this film. Especially since the last time I saw this film I was about six or seven years old. Now, I can relate with Peter Parker's more introverted and shy side. I have also learned and experienced a lot about society and rhetorical and ironic messages in the media. However, aside from social commentary, the biggest difference I noticed was the spider bite scene as my memory of this scene was that he got bit in an office-like setting (?) whereas he actually got bit in the lab/building where the spiders and genetic testing took place (go figure!).

#Youtube #the amazing spider-man #andrew garfield #marvel

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crazycookiecrumbles · 2 years

Text

The One With the Sex in the Gym

A/N: This is a prequel series to my Stark!Readerverse series. Those are all my stories that start with “A” and have some other shit following it.

Masterlist

Stark!Verse Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader,; [[Pre Shang-Chi x Stark!Reader]] Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: swearing, sexual themes, minors DNI, tony losing his mind, steve proving he is just a little shit from brooklyn

Summary: Tony has been insufferable to deal with. As such, Steve feels it’s time to teach him a little lesson when it comes to your relationship.

Tony Stark was a lot of things. The man was a genius ,billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and according to some in the Tower, he was also an absolute overbearing and overprotective mess of a man. Well, at least according to some people. Apparently, since the rest of the team moved in after the events in D.C., Tony was seen as an overbearing, doting, nosy, invasive individual.

Sure, maybe he crashed one-too-many dinner dates between Y/N and Steve.

Yes, perhaps he did throw open her bedroom door a few times to make sure that they were decent and say that he was not hosting a brothel.

Okay, maybe he followed them to the movies but that was only one time.

Fine, the people that said he was too overbearing happened to be his own daughter and her boyfriend, but he had valid reasons. I mean, he was her father, right? This was his job to protect his little girl. Besides, how much did they really even know about the super soldier anatomy? Not enough, probably. Who knows what Steve was capable of? He could accidentally kill Tony’s kid, for all he knew or worse, get her pregnant and force a shotgun wedding to a man old enough to have seen the invention of sliced bread…….

Was he that old? Eh, who cares.

Well, Tony cares, but that’s about it.

So, on one of his many daily missions of finding out what his kid and her geriatric boyfriend were up to, Tony found himself navigating the tower. They weren’t in either of their rooms, nor the living room, the lab, nowhere. Everywhere he happened to look was a dead-end, so Tony had to rely on the work of Jarvis to spy on his kid.

“Sir, the two are currently in the gym.”

“The gym?” Tony raised an eyebrow as he set down his smoothie. “Cap trains in the mornings.”

“I’m aware, sir.”

“Y/N has to be dragged to the gym for combat training.”

“I’m also aware of this, sir.”

“Oh, god. They can’t defile the gym, those stains will never come out!”

“I’m curious to know what you think is exactly in super soldier sperm that it wouldn’t —“

“Ah, don’t say sperm!” Tony shouted as he leapt up from his seat and made his way to the gym. “That’s a hex upon this household, Jarvis, you know that.”

Jarvis would have sighed deeply if he thought it would help Tony to register how ridiculous this was, “Sir, need I remind you of the many conquests of yours I’ve witnessed and had to order particular cleanings for?”

“No.”

“Very well, sir.”

Tony was approaching the gym and he was horrified. He could hear a deep guttural groan and it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“Oh, fuck, Steve! Right there.”

That son of a bitch.

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop.”

Tony wanted to die. Next, he heard a sharp squeal and an intake of air that made his heart drop to his ass. He quickly looked through the gym doors but could only see you, laying on a yoga mat, hands white-knuckling it as you lay on your stomach with a pained look on your face.

“Steve, you’re too deep! Stop, stop!”

“Come on, doll, if you want it to get better, you’ve gotta take it as deep as I can get.”

Tony Stark was officially going to kill Steve Rogers.

“Get off my daughter you wretched, geriatric, overage, disgusting old pervert!” Tony shouted as he threw open the gym doors and ran inside.

However, when he ran inside, he skidded to a halt.You were laying comfortably on your stomach and staring at him in surprise. You were also fully clothed, which he was surprised, given the sounds he heard and the fact he couldn’t see your bottom half from outside.

Behind you, Steve was sitting on a chair. Your knee was bent, your foot up in the air in front of Steve’s lap. The man’s thumb was pressing into your heel while his other hand held your ankle in place. Steve gave Tony a blank stare while your father stared right back at the two of you, red in the face, vein pulsating on his neck.

“What the hell is this,” he seethed.

“Doc said I have plantar fasciitis, so he’s murdering my heel for me,” you explained. “What did you think we were doing?”

Tony’s jaw tightened, “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Really?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you thought we were fonduing.”

Tony pointed a finger at him, “Don’t you dare make a funny right now. You have no right.”

You rolled your eyes, “You know, dad, we do have sex.”

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“It’s pretty crazy. With that strength of his, he can just hold me in the air and —“

“Enough — “

“I mean, gosh, I —“

“She’s kidding, Tony,” Steve said quickly. “I respect her too much to do such intimate acts in a public setting.”

“Good, good. As you should, you old fart,” Tony nodded and scratched the back of his head. “Well, I’m glad we got that settled. I will be in the lab if you need me.”

He left feeling more uncomfortable than he ever had in his entire life. Once he was gone, you two laughed uncontrollably. Steve held his side as you let your face fall to the mat and laugh. Eventually, you rolled onto your back and held your hands up. Steve leaned over, pulled you up, and sat you down right on his lap.

“I think he’ll leave us alone now, don’t you?” He hummed as he kissed your neck softly.

You snickered, “You are such a little shithead, Steve. I love it. Yeah, he’ll definitely give us some space. Which is good, I have a plan.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“He has a really beautiful red car I’ve always wanted to have a little fun in.”

Steve blushed, the tips of his ears turning red, “Doll, I meant it when I said — “

“Yes, yes I know. You’re so very respectful and a gentleman, but you have my full permission to defile me in my dad’s car.”

“Is this a late-stage act of rebellion?”

You blinked twice, “Yes.”

He sighed and shook his head, “Doll —“

“What? I’ve always wanted to do it in a car! Haven’t you? He’ll stay far away from us now because he’s traumatized. It’ll be fun,” you sang as you draped your arms around his shoulders. “Can really get that car rocking.”

He shook his head as he studied you, “You’re devious, Ms. Stark.”

You beamed, “That I am, Steve, that I am.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x stark!reader #steve rogers x avenger!reader #stark!verse #tony stark x reader #tony stark x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #crazycookiecrumbles #pre shang-chi #stark!readerverse

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iceman-kazansky · 1 year

Text

Luckiest man, luckiest Woman

Pairings: Daniel Jackson (SPR) x F!reader

Requested by: @first-husband-lipton

Request: Okay because I really love Private Jackson (SPR) and he is Catholic AF... can I request a one-shot with him in a garden wedding seeing his bride for the first time as she walks down the aisle...and kiss her for the first time?

Settings/Au's: Wedding, relatively Modern

Warnings: f!reader, mentions of Christianity, two lovestruck fools, I've never written for a wedding or been to one so probably inaccurate depiction of a wedding, pure Fluff :)

Summary: You love Daniel and Daniel loves you, and you've decided to tie the knot in your relationship. Although, Walking down the Aisle, he realizes just how lucky he is to even be graced by a woman like you.

A/n: I BORE THROUGH THE COUGHING AND SNEEZING TO GET THIS FINISHED! I WAS DETERMINED TO FINISH IT >:D

Sorry I also kinda tweaked the request a little 😅 And, after writing this, I realized just how inexperienced I am in WEDDINGS. I've realized now I've never been to one and never had one myself :0

So uh, Google helped me write this quite a bit.

------

The day he had been waiting for was finally here. The day he; Daniel Jackson could claim you as his legally wedded wife. Daniel had picked a few best buds from his hometown to be his groomsmen, each had played an important role in his life to be deemed with such honor.

One by one, family members and close friends filed in and Daniel watched as his friends who served in the military alongside him were seated close to the front rows.

As the audience waited, the small chatter filling the air like the pleasant hum of insects on a hot summer night, Daniel couldn’t help but remember the first time he’d seen you. He’d gawked at you from across the street, where he had seen you laughing with your friends. His friends noticed —the same friends that stood behind him now —and had played a game of matchmaker. They had arranged for you two to meet again and officially talk. As embarrassing as it was, Daniel had been glad that his friends had gone out of their ways to tie you two together. Without it, He wouldn't be standing underneath the green foliage framed with ivory wood beams and the warm sunlight basking his back as he waited for the love of his life to arrive.

Finally, as the last car pulled into the parking lot, the wedding was ready to begin. Daniel watched as you moved forwards towards the aisle, and he could feel his jaw drop. The elegant white dress you wore was stunning, the silky fabric with a long train that flowed along the stone pathway that Daniel could only imagine to be the most refined fashion for women there could be, hugged you tightly and highlighted your curves in every right way. Daniel could feel his heart race at the sight of you, still as pretty as the first time you met, walking down the aisle. He could only imagine how God had somehow poured a little more love over you when he was creating the beauty walking towards him, and he thanked God for blessing him with such an amazing woman he would be sure to treasure if she said yes one more time.

Daniel was so entranced that he hardly recognized the priest had begun talking beside him, holding a large book open in one palm while reading out intricate verses. The priest finished and moved onto the vows,

"Do you, Daniel Jackson, take Y/n Y/l/n to be your wife?"

Without hesitation Daniel replied, "Yes"

"And do you, Y/n Y/l/n take Daniel Jackson to be your husband?"

"Yes." You answered.

Daniel felt your hands slip into his and he squeezed them lightly. He was Really doing this. He was settling down hopefully forever with you. He was 'tying the knot.' And all Daniel wanted to do right now was kiss you, in thanks, in love, in appreciation, in confession, and the priests "You may kiss the bride." Was all he needed to capture your perfect lips in his in an endearing kiss.

And as he reminisced over the first time he had kissed you, atop the ferris wheel at the carnival a few years ago, how your lips had been so soft and had treated beyond what Daniel could've interpreted back then, he couldn't help but compare today's kiss and the first kiss all those years ago.

"I love you." He heard you whisper, just above the cheering of the crowd below.

"I love you, too."

Daniel Jackson was the luckiest man alive, he got to have you, a woman he believed was beautiful enough to be considered a God. And You? You were the luckiest Woman to be alive because you had just tied the knot with the most handsome, and kind man you had ever met that you had totally fallen for the moment you saw him, walking with his friends on the opposite side of the road.

#x reader #female reader #y/n #saving private ryan #daniel jackson #wedding #garden wedding #fluff #two idiots in love #marriage #requested #iceman kazansky #SPR #♤ Requests

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notsowrites · 7 months

Text

i'll save you a seat

Summary: Alex has something important to tell Maria about Michael.

A/N: more from my "in a sky built before us" verse, which is basically my re-imagined S3/S4 and everything going forward.

[Read on AO3]

----------

“What was so important we needed to meet up here?” Maria asks as she approaches where he's sitting on the steps of the gazebo in the middle of town.

Alex doesn't reply right away, just pats the space next to him, and waits for her to sit.

“Alex-” she whines, glancing around before finally relenting, and falling into the spot next to him.

“I asked Michael to marry me.”

He knows he's dropping a bombshell on her, because they've technically only just started dating officially and publicly for the first time ever. No one really knows about the years of back and forth between them, and how hard they'd been trying to get to a place to be together. And Alex knows that part of that is his own fault, for keeping Michael his own closely guarded secret.

But he's never going to regret the things he's done to keep Michael safe.

He doesn't know what to expect in regards to a reaction from her, so the initial shock that crosses her face isn't a surprise.But as the words sink in, she hits him on the arm, her shock quickly morphing into something else.

“When?”

“While I was stuck in that alternate dimension.”

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, and he immediately wonders if she's doing the math.

“That was weeks ago!”

And she's right, it was weeks ago. During that fit of desperation where for a moment Alex believed he wasn't going to survive whatever health issues the alternate dimension was causing him. It had been a dying wish at the time, to make sure he got to at least ask Michael to marry him before he died.

But as the black fractals burns receded, eventually disappearing completely, Alex had understood what an emotional and rash decision it had been. It wasn't that he wanted to take it back - he refused to see a downside in being engaged to Michael - but at least now they had time.

Time to date, properly. Time to do all the things they'd never gotten a chance before.

“It wasn't important with all that other stuff going on-”

“Yes it was!”

“-but I wanted you to know because I have a favor to ask.”

“I don't know,” Maria immediately replies, turning away from him. “I'm kinda mad at you right now.”

He knows she's lying.

“We want to get married here,” he continues, motioning around to the gazebo and the town square, “and have the reception at the Pony.”

She finally looks back at him, as if considering. “Did you talk to Isobel? She's the one with all the town events planning background.”

“Michael's telling her.”

Alex can't remember what made them decide today, of all days, was the one they were going to start telling people about the engagement and their plans for the wedding. There's been weeks now of dates to the Crashdown, and Planet 7, and even to the Pony. They've taken walks around town together, holding hands and letting everyone see. He's even pushed Michael against the bricks on the side of the Crashdown to kiss him when he's been overcome with the urge to feel his lips.

And then there's been watching Michael slowly move into the house. The way it was clear that he'd been trying in those days Alex had been trapped in the alternate dimension, but clearly still had trouble with moving completely out of the junkyard. It'd been slow - some clothes first, Alex making space in the closet and letting Michael choose which side he wanted. The slow appearance of Michael's textbooks and research materials from his trailer had Alex reconsidering the set up in the study. Quiet mornings waking up together, having breakfast on the terrace together or long showers after a round of slow morning sex.

But in the end, Michael agreed to break the news to Isobel, and Max. And Alex got Maria, Liz, and Kyle.

He knew Isobel would be the tougher work, because Michael would have to reel in her attempts at planning some big fancy event. Neither of them wanted it, they'd talked a bit about it already - Michael agreeing that small and simple was enough for them. He'd even made a comment that if Isobel wants to plan a big wedding, she can do it for Liz, or Maria - or even her own.

“I'm so happy for you,” Maria finally replies, leaning forward and wrapping him in her arms. Alex immediately relaxes into her embrace, feeling the tension that has settled into his shoulders earlier melt away. He can't explain why he was nervous to tell her, only that he worried she'd say it was too soon.

A fear that he knows is mostly unfounded - Maria has always been, and still is, one of his biggest supporters in life.

When she pulls back, he watches as she glances around, as if taking the gazebo in with a new perspective, turning back to look at him. “You really meant it, didn't you? That you wanted to get married here.”

Of course she remembered that day between them, Alex doesn't know why he's surprised.

“You know I didn't like to dream too hard about things,” he replies, knowing she understands his old good enough dreams, “but everything feels different now.”

She nods along as he speaks, taking hold of his hands, her attention turning to his fingers.

“No ring?”

Alex laughs at that, because it hadn't really crossed his mind that they'd need any sort of engagement rings. It's such a normative tradition - but then again, there is something that perhaps could mean the same thing.

Freeing one of his hands, Alex reaches up and pulls out the alien glass pendant necklace from where it's tucked beneath his shirt, holding it out for Maria to see.

“Michael gave me this, right before I left on the trip with Forrest,” he explains, holding the pendant in between his fingers. “I almost lost it in that other dimension, but Michael found it.”

Maria smiles, rolling her eyes just a bit. “Guerin really just became a jewelry maker overnight, didn't he?”

The question makes him realize she's not wearing her bracelet, which means the injections of the cure that Liz developed seem to be holding. He's heard Kyle talk about how there's been some small changes to her brain scans, perhaps an effect of the protein being reintroduced into her system.

But it means that he's not going to have to watch her slip away. That she's not going to become lost, like Mimi has.

“No more bracelet?” He asks, sliding his hand down to her wrist.

She shakes her head in response. “Doesn't seem to be a point now.”

He supposes that's true as well.

“So,” Maria says after a moment, smiling back at him. “Are we going to be strong arming Arturo to cook for this thing?”

Alex smiles back, because that's the next order of business today. But telling her, making sure she was the first one to find out, that mattered most to him.

#roswell new mexico #malex #alex manes #maria deluca #malex fic #notso writes fanfic

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nextstopwonderland · 11 months

Text

Masterlist of BCC fannish content

Giving this its own masterlist

BCC/bryanmox audiovisual content here

BryanNigel content here

BryanWheeler content here

Just Bryan content here

Bryan/Mox

Mix & accompanying graphic:

(Original post)

Farmers Market AU

Original collage/concept (link):

Official graphic/not-fic summary (link):

Cover art for just to drown in you (future fic epilogue, 2.5k, T, original post):

Misc graphics:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

_______________________________

Bryan/Wheeler

Series - known to cross lines

Fic: special unspoken without sound

Accompanying mix:

Sequels: just hold your breath & waiting for a light to come on & everyone has seen the signs

(Updated masterpost)

_______________________

Stand-alone:

Fic: the doors you open I just can’t close (links to graphic and fic)

Prompt ficlet: I’ll show you a place

_______________________

Series - hiking au verse (aka hit me like a ray of sun)

Fic: Jumpstart My Heart (links to graphic, main story and two sequels/timestamps)

Mix and more cover art

_______________________

Series - coffee shop au (aka Fallen quite hard over you)

Fic: The paths your eyes wander down (includes cover art and link to main story & sequel)

_______________________

Series - Listen to your heart

Fic: Voices that want to be heard (includes cover art and link to main story and timestamp sequel)

_______________________

More Bryanwheeler graphics:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

_________________________________

Bryanwheelermox

Series: like Ancient Rome

Fic: the plotted lines, the faulty map (4.6k, E, prompt fill)

Sequel: caught between the twisted stars (2k, E)

(Original post)

____________________________

Bryan/Danny

Fic: Crave a different kind of buzz (5.1k, M, stripper au romcom meet-cute; links to story & graphic)

Graphics: and my diary’s filled with your name on every page | in my head I do everything right | because I dropped your hand while dancing | baby I just wanna dance | now I’m being another

Mix: but you’re not what you thought you were (includes cover art)

_________________________

Bryan/Claudio

(Original post)

Series: Our World

Main Fic: Always Changing (2.7k, au, friends to lovers holiday fluff, links to graphic, main story and sequel: Love Can Open Your Eyes)

Series: Before we get too old

Main fic: these things will never change for us at all (4.5k, roh era, 5+1 times, links to graphic, story and the sequel: if I just lay here

_____________________

Stand-alones

Fic: feel the tones that tremble down your spine (2.8k, au, yoga, links to graphic & story)

Prompt ficlet: got an itch to scratch (E, 340 words, breeding kink)

_________________________

Bryan/Zack

Series: gotta have faith

Fic: waited for you all those years (10ks, 5 + 1 times, canon compliant; links to main story, both graphics, and timestamp sequel: the words you could not say)

Ficlet prompt fill in same verse

Misc graphics:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Fanvid: 🎶before this river becomes an ocean🎶

Fanvid: Headspace

Music/interview compilations: 1 | 2

______________________

Mixes/graphics based on meme asks:

A Bryan playlist

Dragonslaying: a Bryan/Danny playlist

Bryan/Yuta: the story playlist

Bryan & Danny + Red & Gold moodboard

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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year

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A Spellbinding Wedding (Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

Summary: (Y/N) and Loki’s big day has finally arrived, but will mischief and superhero shenanigans succeed in derailing the happiest day of their lives?

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 10.9k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Almost 11k words of pure, tooth-rotting fluff lol

A/N: We’ve finally arrived at the wedding of Loki and the Cosmic Sorceress! If you haven't already, I recommend checking out the Spellbinding Playlist; I added a bunch of wedding/romantic songs I imagine they'd choose for their special day and they're all great, so go ahead and give it a listen!Thank you all so much for reading and for waiting like six months for this thing lol, and I hope that you enjoy!

A Spellbinding Wedding October 8th, 2016 Stark Mansion New York City, New York (Previous One-Shot)

“So, (Y/L/N), in just a few short hours you’re gonna be officially – pause for dramatic effect – off the market! Can you tell us what exactly’s going through the beautiful bride’s head right now?”

(Y/N) briefly paused her mascara application and pretended to ponder Clint’s overly-exaggerated question. “Whether or not it would be rude of me to drop that camcorder through a portal to Muspelheim and lock you in the basement until after the ceremony.”

The archer snickered before jumping up to sit on the dresser behind her and turning the camcorder around to directly address the camera. “As you can see, your mom gets a little cranky when she has to wake up early. Not sure if that’ll go away in the future or just get worse, so…either way, good luck with that, kiddos!”

“When you volunteered to film the ceremony and parts of the reception for us, I really should’ve questioned it more.” (Y/N) resumed applying her mascara while fighting back a smile. “At least any future children of ours will watch this, see just how ridiculous their Uncle Clint is and know that we weren’t exaggerating. Oh! Speaking of children, are Peter’s friends here yet? Tony was supposed to send Happy into Queens to pick them up an hour ago, but I haven’t heard anything about them since.”

“Yeah, they’re all hanging out in the old lab downstairs and Tony’s helping ‘em prep their sound equipment as we speak; you and Loki do know that there’s literally thousands of professional DJ’s living in New York you could’ve hired to run your wedding reception that aren’t sixteen and can actually drive themselves to their venues, right?”

“Says the friend of ours who practically begged to be the videographer even though he’s a professional archer by trade…” She mumbled under her breath, twisting the mascara wand back into its tube just as someone knocked on her suite’s door. “Come in!”

The door opened and Natasha popped her head into the room, her long red hair still wrapped in curlers, a clipboard in her hands and a comm link secured in her ear. The spy was taking her many duties as Matron of Honor very seriously, treating the day’s celebration as if it were a highly-classified mission and not a mid-sized wedding located at Tony’s family mansion; each of their teammates had been assigned specific duties and responsibilities and throughout the morning, Natasha regularly checked in with them to ensure that their tasks were going smoothly, which explained why she was shooting Clint the trademark glare she normally reserved for Hydra agents and invading aliens. “Last I checked, Barton, you’re supposed to be overseeing the florists in the garden and not raising the bride’s blood pressure right before the wedding.”

Clint jumped down from the dresser and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, no need to go all Black Widow on me, Tasha.” He crossed the room and pressed a chaste kiss onto (Y/N)’s cheek before winking at her through the vanity’s mirror. “I’ll see you at the altar, (Y/L/N)!”

Natasha gave the archer one final glare as he hurried out of the suite while whistling ‘Chapel of Love’ and shook her head when the door closed behind him. “I swear, I’m gonna have to start using my Widow Bites on these people if they don’t start being more helpful…” The spy turned her attention to (Y/N) and her concentrated frown morphed into a smile. “Aw (Y/N), you look stunning and you haven’t even put on your dress yet! I’m serious, it’s like you’re glowing or-” She cut herself off and held a hand up to her ear to listen to a voice in her comm. “Wait a sec, Bruce says that the caterers just arrived. Did you want me to get you anything before I check in on them?”

“Is it too early in the day for a glass of champagne?”

“Not if there’s a splash of orange juice in it,” Natasha answered with a mischievous grin. “I’ll be back before you know it!”

The door closed behind the spy and for the first time that morning, the room fell silent. (Y/N) sat back in her seat and let out a sigh of relief; she loved her friends and teammates dearly, of course, but all she wanted to do was prepare for the wedding in peace and with as little stress as possible. The wedding was slightly larger than they’d originally anticipated, with over a hundred guests from Midgard, Asgard and Alfheim all gathered together at one of Tony Stark’s family mansions in the heart of New York City, and with the ink still drying on the three realms’ fledgling peace treaties, handling the guests and ensuring that they remain peaceful would be a difficult task to carry out on a day already filled to the brim with difficult tasks. So far, her friends were doing an excellent job with ensuring that everything was running smoothly but after living the life of a superhero for over a year, she knew just how quickly a situation could shift from calm to catastrophic.

“I wonder of Loki’s feeling just as anxious about all this as I am,” (Y/N) murmured to herself, giving the photograph of her soon-to-be husband she’d tucked into the edge of her vanity’s mirror a smile before setting her sights on her un-styled hair, hoping that the intricate task would serve to distract her from the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brother, what exactly is this gloopy green substance?”

“It’s an avocado and green tea mud mask.”

“…And why have we applied it to our faces?”

“It removes impurities from the skin while unclogging pores and absorbing excess oil.” Before Thor had a chance to ask another question, Loki brusquely continued. “Yes, it’s meant to relax you and no, you cannot eat it.”

Instead of becoming annoyed by Loki’s shortness, his brother chuckled. “In that case, these mud masks must be defective because you’re anything but relaxed, brother.” With a defeated sigh, Loki removed the cucumber slices resting on his eyelids and sat up, tossing the slices into the nearby trashcan and making his way into the suite’s bathroom to wash the half-dried mud mask off; he was halfway done when Thor entered and leaned against the door-frame, a look of concern visible even beneath his own thick mud mask. “Loki, are you all right? You haven’t been yourself all morning, and it’s beginning to worry me. You’re not having second thoughts about the wedding, are you?”

“No! No, of course not,” Loki emphatically shook his head. “I’ve been waiting for this day for quite a long time, believe me, but I…well, it’s an awfully significant life change, isn’t it? I know that what I’m feeling is only a natural reaction to such a change, of course, but a part of me can’t help but wonder if I’m even deserving of this life I’m about to embark on with (Y/N).”

His brother nodded in understanding. “I believe that Wilson refers to them as intrusive thoughts; unwelcome, involuntary thoughts with no basis in truth or fact that can manifest as a result of several forms of trauma.” When Loki raised his brows in surprise, Thor sighed and rolled his eyes in mild exasperation. “Believe it or not, brother, I do listen to what others say when they’re around me. The important point to be made is that they’re wrong; as your designated Best Man, it’s my duty to ease these irrational worries of yours and I believe that I have just the thing!”

Thor disappeared into the bedroom and quickly returned with an ornate bottle and two glasses, and Loki’s jaw nearly dropped at the sight of the familiar flagon. “That’s one of Asgard’s last remaining bottles of the great Hoder’s spiced mead. It’s to be drunk on the most special of occasions and only with the Allfather’s express permission…”

“I took a page out of your book and simply borrowed a bottle on my way out of the palace.” The older man grinned proudly at his uncharacteristic act of subterfuge and Loki couldn’t help but chuckle. “The Allfather might not agree, but my brother’s wedding and all the happiness it will surely bring him is a special occasion.”

As Loki’s throat burned and he fought back the sudden tears brought on by his brother’s support, he watched as Thor poured the amber-colored liquid out into the two glasses and pressed one into his hand, the corner of his mouth curving upwards while he raised the glass. “Well then, to happiness.”

“To happiness,” Thor echoed, and the two brothers clinked their glasses together before downing the spiced mead in one go. “Another!”

There was a gentle knock on the suite’s door and Frigga’s voice called out, “Loki? Thor?”

“Oh, Hel!”

Both men scrambled to hide the evidence of their treasonous transgression, shoving the spiced mead and glasses unceremoniously under the sink and rushing out of the bathroom to open the door for their mother; the Queen of Asgard was dressed spectacularly in a pale turquoise dress and matching wide-brimmed hat, looking just as elegant in Midgardian clothing as she always did on Asgard. Frigga was beaming as she stepped into the suite and reached up to hold Loki’s face between her hands. “Oh, I can hardly believe that my darling little one is getting married today, and to such a wonderful young woman as well! How are you feeling, Loki? Have you eaten anything at all?”

“I’m fine, Mother, just a little anxious.” Loki matched her infectious smile with one of his own. “After all, it’s not every day that three realms of the cosmos come together to celebrate a wedding.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about, because your brother and your friends are doing such an excellent job at keeping everything running smoothly.” Frigga gave them both a knowing look. “Perhaps another glass of Hoder’s spiced mead will soothe your nerves? Now, be a dear and make mine a double, please.”

Loki and Thor exchanged a wide-eyed look of surprise as their mother crossed the suite and began brushing the stray pieces of lint off their suit jackets hanging near the window, humming a cheerful tune to herself as she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pulling back to admire her handiwork, (Y/N) smiled brightly and twirled Cassie’s chair around to face her vanity’s mirror. “There, all finished! What do you think, Cassie?”

Their flower girl-slash-ring bearer squealed in joy and turned to her with the widest smile on her glittering face. “It’s so pretty! I love it!” She threw her arms around her middle and tightly hugged her. “Do I look like a fairy from Alf…Alf…?”

“Alfheim? I’m not sure, actually, I’ve never seen a fairy there before.” Shrugging, (Y/N) glanced over at Elora, who was preoccupied with unzipping the large garment bag containing her wedding dress. “Elora has, though! Haven’t you, Elora?”

The General of the Alfheimian Army looked up from her task with a small shudder. “Unfortunately. The little beasts possess needle-sharp teeth and use their woodland magic to mask their presence right before viciously attacking any who dare trespass into their domain.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in alarm but before she could chastise the Alfheimian for her bluntness, Cassie clapped her hands together and let out a delighted laugh. “That is so cool!”

A knock on her suite’s door drew (Y/N) away from Elora and Cassie’s animated discussion of the various magical beasts that lived on Alfheim, and she opened the door to reveal Sam and Bucky; both men were already dressed in their suits, minus their floral boutonnieres, but her calm demeanor vanished when she caught sight of the panicked expressions they were desperately trying to mask. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong, doll-”

“Yeah, everything’s goin’ according to plan, (Y/L/N), promise-”

“Nat had us come up here to…um…”

“To see if you needed any help with…anything.”

She arched an unimpressed brow that almost instantly silenced both men. “Do I really have to ask you two again?”

“…Scott lost the wedding rings!” (Y/N)’s jaw dropped and Bucky let out an indignant noise as Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, Buck, but she’s got the same death glare my mom used to give me! Yeah, Scott put the rings down and now he can’t find them anywhere, and he can’t even use the ants to help ‘cause he didn’t bring his suit along.”

The super soldier hastily added, “Nat’s trying her best to jog his memory, but…well, you know Nat. I think she might end up making the poor guy faint before finding out where he might’ve lost the rings.”

“Okay, okay…” Rubbing her temples in an attempt to quell the rapidly-growing headache, (Y/N) took a steadying breath and forced herself to remain calm as she began formulating a plan. “All right, my hair and makeup’s already done, so let me find some slippers and we’ll go find Nat and Scott. I might be able to use my Alf Seidr to try and find them-” Both Sam and Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. “-But not a word of this to Loki, okay? The last thing he needs today is any added stress…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arching a curious brow, Loki examined the items laid out on the coffee table before glancing up at his teammates. “This is a Midgardian tradition? It seems a little silly that these random objects can determine the outcome of a marriage.”

“Yeah, it’s a good luck thing here on Earth, Lokes, like that old Saints jersey Sam wears during every football season.” Clint held up the camcorder and pointed the lens at Loki as he continued. “Your dad’s a pretty smart guy, kiddos, but don’t let that fool you; he once thought your mom was dying when she was only having a little brain freeze. Remember, Lokes?”

“Children, if you’ve ever wondered why your mother once attempted to hit your dear Uncle Clint over the head with a coffee-table book, then now you know,” Loki snickered as the archer flushed pink and rolled his eyes.

A reluctant smile played on Steve’s lips while he finished fastening his cuff-links across the suite. “I hate to say it, but Barton’s right about it being good luck here. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.’ Your mother gifted you a set of cloak clasps for today so that’s your ‘something old,’ your tuxedo counts as your ‘something new,’ Tony’s lending you one of his nicer Rolex watches for your ‘something borrowed,’ and your ‘something blue’ are the navy blue suspenders you’re wearing.”

Loki hummed in interest. “I suppose that a little extra luck wouldn’t go amiss…”

Just as he slipped the borrowed Rolex onto his wrist, a visibly panicked Thor burst into the suite and made a bee-line to Steve. “Captain Rogers, there’s an urgent matter that I must speak to you about!”

“If it’s that Tony wrote a borderline explicit speech to read at the reception, then we all know and Nat already took care of-”

“No, no, it’s not that, but we really should discuss this matter out in the hall-”

“What is it, Thor?” Loki asked, tilting his head in confusion as he took in his brother’s unusually pale face and arching a disapproving brow when he proceeded to badly explain away his concern. “Brother, surely you haven’t forgotten that I’m the God of Lies? Whatever it is, I’m sure that we’ll be able to handle it before the ceremony begins.”

Thor swallowed and anxiously bit his lip before blurting out, “A wizard is currently battling a space worm out on the lawn.”

“What?!” Loki, Steve and Clint all exclaimed in unison.

“It just appeared out of nowhere and started wreaking havoc across the grounds, but then a wizard stepped out of a portal and started fighting it! Stark and Rhodes are already on their way to help but it seems that the beast is indestructible!”

With his jaw clenched tight in mounting agitation, Loki stood from his seat and summoned his emerald-green magic. “Not if I have anything to say about it.” A shimmer of light enveloped his body and in the blink of an eye, his wedding attire morphed into his Asgardian battle armor and daggers appeared in his grasp. “The beast and this so-called wizard will soon regret the very moment they dared to step foot on this property.”

Steve shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and reached for the red, white and blue shield propped up beside one of the suite’s armchair. “Barton, keep the caterers and florists away from the lawn, and make sure the guests stay inside and away from the windows.”

“On it.”

“And not a word of this to (Y/N), all right?” All three men nodded in agreement and Loki’s grip tightened around the hilts of his daggers. “The last thing she needs today is any added stress…”

As the trio of men hurried outside, a part of Loki wondered if he’d been tricked into believing that a cosmic monster was in the process of battling a sorcerer and that it was all some sort of elaborate prank concocted by his brother and friends to ease his pre-wedding jitters. However, that spark of hope was quickly extinguished when Steve threw the back door open and was forced to jump back to avoid being struck by Rhodes’ flailing body falling from the sky.

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel that one for a couple of days,” Rhodes groaned in pain and allowed Steve to hoist his armor-clad body to his feet. “Either of you guys wanna tell me what an ugly-ass space worm is doing here in New York? ‘Cause it’s definitely not here to wish the bride and groom its best!”

The familiar sound of repulsor blasts intermingled with the booming roars caused all four men to turn and watch as Tony darted around the tentacles of an enormous pink creature and a dark-haired man wearing a burgundy cape conjured orange-hued magic to counter its vicious attacks. “Earth has second-rate sorcerers now, how delightful…” Loki rolled his eyes and turned to the others. “It’s an Abilisk, a cosmic creature that feeds off significantly-sized energy sources, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if that cheap magician down there summoned it here out of pure incompetency.”

“Let’s deal with the Abilisk first, brother, and then we’ll confront the wizard later!” With a burst of lightning, Thor flew off towards the enraged creature and attempted to slam Mjolnir against its skull, but he was quickly swatted aside by one of its flailing tentacles.

Loki and Steve exchanged a look with Rhodes before joining the battle; the Air Force colonel attempted to shoot it with one of his suit’s many guns but was unsuccessful due to the creature’s impenetrable hide and no matter how twisted its own tentacles became due to the super soldier’s impressive athleticism, the beast remained standing and overwhelmingly angry. After throwing a handful of emerald-green magic at a tentacle to stop it from slamming into Steve’s back, Loki looked over to see the bearded sorcerer performing a spell nearby. “Care to introduce yourself and explain why you’ve brought an Abilisk to my wedding?” He yelled over the creature’s deafening roars.

“My name’s Doctor Stephen Strange, I’m a Master of the Mystic Arts, the guardian of the New York Sanctum in Greenwich Village and I most certainly did not summon an Abilisk here!” The sorcerer shouted back as he threw two semi-circular protective shields at the Abilisk’s face, where they exploded on impact and disoriented the enraged creature further. “Someone here at this mansion opened an inter-dimensional portal and let this creature come through, and as soon I arrived to send it back, my sling-ring was stolen from me by an unchecked summoning spell!”

“Sling-ring?”

“Yes, it’s what allows me to channel the magic needed to open inter-dimensional portals between any two points within the universe and without it, I can’t send the Abilisk back to where it came from!”

Loki was quickly filled with a sneaking suspicion about the whereabouts of the sorcerer’s sling-ring, but he prayed to the Norns that he was wrong as he called out to the others, “Does anyone here have access to Romanoff’s comm link? I think she may be able to shed some much-needed light on the situation!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air around (Y/N) crackled and hummed with magical energy as she used her Alf Seidr to sense her surroundings and a familiar tugging sensation in her stomach preceded a strange weight in her outstretched left hand. She opened her eyes and her excitement instantly turned to annoyance when she was met with the sight of yet another unfamiliar ring; the one resting on her open palm looked different from the rest, almost reminding her of a pair of brass knuckles but with strange etchings across its bronzed surface. “Well, this definitely isn’t what I’m seeking…” She tossed the object into the basket of other rings she’d inadvertently summoned while searching for the lost wedding rings and sighed. “Do any of you have any bright ideas?”

Scott, Natasha, Sam and Bucky all shook their heads from their spots across the laboratory, and the ex-convict was the first to speak. “I-I’m really, really sorry about this, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Scott, I know you didn’t mean to lose the rings…” (Y/N) rubbed her temple in an effort to quell her raging stress-induced headache as she considered what to do next. “I’ll just have to try the spell again, then maybe it will-”

“Tony?” They all looked over to see a frowning Natasha listening to her comm link. “Okay, slow down, I can’t hear what you’re…wait, what wizard ring? Yeah, Scott lost the rings and (Y/N)’s been using her magic to try and find ‘em, but…” The spy’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped at whatever the billionaire was saying through the comm. “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) frowned. “What is it, Nat?”

Before Natasha could answer, the wall nearest to (Y/N) suddenly exploded and she had just enough time to summon a protective bubble of magic to encase them as chunks of stone and debris began raining down. The dust was beginning to settle when she flicked her wrists to remove the shield, her brows rising in surprise as she recognized her future brother-in-law extricating himself from the rubble. Thor’s blue eyes widened comically when he spotted her standing before him and he swallowed nervously before giving her a small wave. “H-Hello, Lady (Y/N). Shouldn’t you be off preparing for the ceremony?”

“What’s going on, Thor?”

“Nothing, nothing, just an intense arm-wrestling match with your delightful Alfheimian friends; for one so small, Myriani has quite the arm!”

“Thor.”

Natasha stepped forward and gestured towards the comm link in her ear. “According to Tony, there’s a giant space worm wreaking havoc on the lawn that you unintentionally summoned here with your Alf Seidr, and the only person who can get rid of it is a wizard-doctor who lives in Greenwich Village but you accidentally stole his magic ring.”

“God, just put me back in the damn ice…” Bucky groaned as he dropped his head into his vibranium hand.

Sam reached into the basket of rings and withdrew the odd-looking shape made of engraved brass. “I’m no expert on wizards, (Y/L/N), but this kinda looks like it could be magical to me.”

(Y/N) took the ring from Sam and with a wave of her hand, she transformed her silk robe and slippers into her Cosmic Sorceress uniform and marched through the hole in the laboratory wall. There was indeed a towering pink-skinned creature flailing its many tentacles as her friends and teammates fought their hardest against it; Tony and Rhodey were firing their suit’s repulsors and dodging its tentacles in the air while Steve, Loki and an odd-looking man wearing a red cloak tried all they could to draw the creature’s attention away from the mansion. Ignoring the guilt beginning to eat away at her, (Y/N) strode across the lawn and called out over the deafening roars, “Doctor, catch!”

The wizard-doctor looked over and raised his hand just in time to catch his ring, quickly slipping it into his fingers and rotating his hands in a circular motion to create a sparking orange portal directly beneath the creature; it released a final roar as it dropped down into the portal and disappeared, leaving the grounds of Stark Mansion silent. The stranger closed the portal he’d opened and breathed a sigh of relief before setting his sights on an embarrassed (Y/N). “Your royal highness, would you care to explain what’s going on and why you took my sling ring?”

(Y/N) fidgeted with her finger-less gloves and attempted to smile, but it appeared as more of a grimace. “First of all, I’m very sorry for all the trouble this has caused you, Doctor…”

“Strange. Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts and the guardian of the New York Sanctum.” They shook hands and she silently took note of the unique magical energy radiating from him. “You’re (Y/N) (Y/L/N), former trainee librarian turned Cosmic Sorceress, the Crown Princess of Alfheim, daughter of the Alfheimian Layeia Tilasdottir and the very-human David (Y/L/N), descendant of the esteemed Lady Astrid, designated representative between the Light Elves and the Nine Realms of the cosmos, and the Defender of the Realm of Alfheim.”

Taking a step back, (Y/N) arched a questioning brow and fought the sudden urge to summon her magic or even her sword. “For someone I’ve never met, you certainly know an awful lot about me.”

Doctor Strange shrugged. “I make it my business to keep an eye on beings that pose the largest threats to this world and I have to say, you’re quite high on my list.”

“Well, like I was saying, Doctor, all of this has a very simple if not embarrassing explanation-”

“(Y/N)!” They both turned to see Loki and their friends hurrying towards them; their tuxedos were covered in grass stains and an odd multicolored slime, and her fiancé’s emerald-green eyes were filled with worry as he gently held her shoulders and leaned down to meet her gaze. “Darling, are you all right? What happened?”

As the rest of their friends and even some of their guests began making their way across the lawn, (Y/N)’s embarrassment grew and she brought a hand up to partially hide her face. “Scott misplaced the rings and I thought I could use my magic to find them, but my anxiety must’ve led to me opening a portal and then the strength of my spell accidentally took Doctor Strange’s sling ring, and…well, you know the rest. I still have no idea why I wasn’t able to summon our rings; it’s almost as if something was blocking my magic…” Loki paled at her words and it was (Y/N)’s turn to be concerned. “Loki?”

“This situation, um…it may not entirely be your fault, darling.” Her fiancé chuckled awkwardly and rubbed his neck as he glanced over at where Scott, his girlfriend Hope Van Dyne and Cassie were all standing near Elora. “You see, I assumed that Lang might misplace the rings so before I started getting ready, I placed an enchantment on them and as an added precaution, I instructed Barton to give Lang an empty ring box and give the real ones to-”

“Hey, guys! Cassie had the rings the whole time!" Scott shouted and gave a giggling Cassie a celebratory fist-bump. “Either my little peanut’s becoming a better thief than her old man, or someone didn’t trust me with ‘em in the first place. Probably the second one, huh?”

With an incredulous laugh, (Y/N) allowed a chuckling Loki to pull her into his arms and shook her head in disbelief. “Does that mean we ruined our own wedding?”

“My dear, you both haven’t ruined a single thing,” Frigga reassured her as she walked up to them and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Your friends and guests are still here, all of them safe and unharmed, and the sun is shining brightly in the sky. Why shouldn’t your wedding continue as planned?”

A stern-looking Doctor Strange raised a hand and answered, “Because Miss (Y/L/N) here nearly caused the destruction of New York with her unchecked magic and a mass hysteria the likes of which hasn’t been seen since his invasion. Such an act, even one as accidental as you claim this one to be, cannot go unexamined and unpunished.”

(Y/N) bit her lip while Loki rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to counter his words, but his mother’s hand on his arm silenced him as she turned to Doctor Strange with a brilliant smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Doctor Stephen Strange of Midgard; I am Frigga, the Queen of Asgard and mother to Loki and Thor. My dear future daughter-in-law has recently obtained an extraordinary amount of Alf Seidr that she’s still training to control and seeing as today’s her long-awaited wedding day, it’s quite understandable that her focus was shaken.” Frigga sympathetically rubbed (Y/N)’s back and took a moment to adjust her uniform’s purple-hued tiara before returning her attention to the sorcerer. “Now, I’m sure that a highly-skilled Master of the Mystic Arts such as yourself would be honored to utilize the Time Stone hanging around your neck and repair the damage caused by the creature, so as to ease Lady (Y/N)’s frazzled nerves and prevent any other unfortunate accidents from occurring.”

Doctor Strange blinked in surprise. “Um…”

“For your valiant defense of this realm, Asgard recognizes you as one of its trusted allies and speaking as the mother of the groom, I would personally be honored if you joined us for today’s celebration of Loki and Lady (Y/N)’s nuptials.”

“That’s, um…thank you, Queen Frigga, for extending an invitation to me…I-I’d be honored to attend…” The sorcerer’s cheeks flushed pink and he tried his hardest to avoid making eye-contact with the beautiful goddess in front of him. “I’ll start on the repairs right away…”

While a flushed Doctor Strange started using the power of the Time Stone to reverse the damages to their friends’ tuxedos first, (Y/N) turned to look between Frigga and Loki as her stunned expression morphed into a grin. “You really did inherit your Silvertongue from your mother, didn’t you?”

“So it would seem,” Loki replied and leaned down to press a kiss onto his mother’s cheek. “Thank you for intervening on our behalf, Mother.”

Frigga’s blue eyes twinkled with some mischief of her own as she gave them a conspiratorial wink. “Of course, little one. I was raised by witches who taught me many invaluable lessons, among which was that diplomacy and deceit are two sides of the very same coin.”

After the Queen of Asgard went to supervise the sorcerer as he repaired the lawn and floral arrangements surrounding the white gazebo that they’d soon exchange their vows within, (Y/N) spotted Clint filming the aftermath of the battle and giggled. “This’ll be a fun memory to share with our future children: How Mom and Dad’s magical shenanigans nearly wrecked their own wedding.”

Loki laughed. “After listening to Stark read me an online article chronicling several common wedding day horrors, ours was relatively tame by comparison.” He gave her forehead a lingering kiss before meeting her gaze with a tender smile. “Are you ready to get married, my love?”

“More than ready, sweetheart.” (Y/N) slipped her hand into her fiancé’s and swung their arms as they made their way into the mansion to finish getting ready for their wedding ceremony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour and over a dozen magical repairs later, Loki and Thor stood outside on the mansion’s veranda with Cassie Lang, keeping the flower girl-slash-ring bearer entertained and patiently waiting for (Y/N) and Natasha to finish their last-minute preparations so the ceremony could begin.

The guests were all seated and talking amongst themselves while they enjoyed the late afternoon sunlight breaking through the fluffy white clouds; the only people not seated in the rows of benches were General Elora – who would be officiating the ceremony, as it mainly drew from ancient Alfheimian customs – and Peter, MJ and Ned; the young woman graciously volunteered to play the guitar while they walked down the aisle, and her two best friends were keeping her company as she perched herself on a wooden stool beside the gazebo’s steps. Floral arrangements comprised of green and lavender Dahlias and branches of fern lined the aisle and hung gracefully off the ends of the sculpted wooden benches, while vines of green ivy and lilacs wrapped around the gazebo’s posts and railing. The interior of the gazebo was illuminated with dozens of twinkling fairy lights that were set to brighten as the sun started to set, and lanterns of battery-powered candles hung from each nearby bush and tree.

Embracing a mixture of Asgardian and Midgardian traditions, Loki was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo with an emerald-green cloak fastened to his jacket by the engraved golden clasps his mother gifted him, and he wore a floral crown of blooming laurels and leaves. On Asgard, one’s future spouse chose the flowers that best represented their intended and after much deliberation, (Y/N) picked the laurel for its many symbolic meanings; the laurel symbolized nobility, intelligence and an acknowledgement of the new phase he was entering by marrying her. Quite a flattering choice on her part, he thought with a reserved smile as he conjured another tiny burst of fireworks for Cassie’s amusement.

“Perhaps one day, young Cassie, my brother will show you how he can transform into any animal one could imagine,” Thor remarked to Cassie as he took a moment to readjust his green pocket-square.

The little girl’s eyes widened in amazement and she quickly turned to face Loki. “Can you turn into an ant?!”

Loki blinked in surprise as Thor stifled a chuckle behind his hand. “Um, well…now that you mention it, I haven’t actually tried.”

“Oh. I like ants. The ones that my daddy works with are really nice!”

Watching Cassie suddenly switch from talking about ants to twirling around in her soft green dress, a part of Loki hoped that his and (Y/N)’s future children shared the little girl’s quirky enthusiasm and unapologetic sense of wonder. The sound of the veranda’s glass door opening caused Loki to turn around and when he did, he was met with the jaw-dropping sight of his fiancée. (Y/N)’s off-white wedding dress – impeccably designed for her by Luke Jacobson – was relatively simplistic, with a fitted bust that cinched at the waist and flared out into a flowing skirt that reached the floor, but what elevated the entire look from simplistic to enchanting were its unique details; a lace overlay of hand-sewn floral designs was fastened onto the bust, branching out into fluttering sleeves that hung down to her biceps, and the only jewelry she wore besides her engagement ring was a delicate pair of pearl earrings she inherited from her late aunt. Her hair was arranged into one of her favorite styles and on the top of her head, she wore a floral crown comprised of white Camellia blooms; he’d picked them for her because they symbolized admiration, respect and everlasting love and devotion. A veil of lace-trimmed white chiffon was attached to the back of the floral crown, hanging gracefully down her back and barely brushing the floor. The finishing touch was the bouquet she was clutching in her hands; it was comprised of laurel, white Camellia blooms, lavender and lilac-colored roses and dusty green foliage.

“Darling…” Loki approached her almost reverently and stood before her with a dazed smile on his face. “I truly am the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms, to find myself marrying such an ethereal goddess as you.”

(Y/N) shyly ducked her head before reaching a hand up to straighten one of his cloak clasps. “You must be a mind-reader, then, because I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

His lips chastely caressed her knuckles as Natasha stepped onto the veranda with a small basket of multicolored flower petals and a small bouquet of her own; the Matron of Honor was dressed in a simple lilac-colored gown, with her long red curls pinned up in an elegant style by a single white Dahlia and glittering silver heels on her feet. “Save the kissing for later, lovebirds, we’ve got a wedding ceremony to begin.” Mindful of her gown, the spy bent down and held the basket out for Cassie to take. “Okay, Lang, just like we practiced.”

“I’m on it,” Cassie replied, toothily grinning and giving Natasha a thumbs-up before taking the basket from her and allowing the spy to quickly adjust (Y/N)’s veil.

“Are you two ready?” After Loki and (Y/N) nodded, Natasha held a hand up to her comm link and spoke lowly into it, “All right, kid, let’s do this thing.”

Across the way, MJ nodded and gestured for her friends to take their seats, spending a moment adjusting her guitar’s shoulder strap before beginning to softly play. The guests’ conversations started to dim down and with a nod of confirmation from the spy, Cassie walked across the lawn and started to slowly make her way down the aisle, scattering flower petals along the way while her father beamed with pride from his seat.

Thor leaned down to give (Y/N)’s forehead a chaste kiss and clapped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness as he allowed Natasha to loop her arm around his. “See you in a minute.”

Natasha winked at them and with that, the Best Man and the Matron of Honor began their walk down the aisle; when they ascended the gazebo’s steps and took their respective places, (Y/N) slipped her hand into Loki’s and he squeezed it tight as they crossed the lawn to stand at the end of the aisle. Once the guests all stood and turned to face them, Loki and (Y/N) exchanged a smile before starting down the aisle hand-in-hand; long before they knew it was Alfheimian tradition that the bride and groom walk themselves down the aisle on their wedding day, (Y/N) pointed out that since they’d both be entering into marriage with one another, it only made sense that they’d choose to walk down the aisle together.

While they slowly walked down the aisle as MJ played a gentle love ballad on her guitar, Loki looked out at their friends, teammates and colleagues standing amongst the guests to distract himself from the butterflies beginning to flutter around his stomach. Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Everett Ross and Doctor Helen Cho stood alongside everyone they invited from S.H.I.E.L.D., the director giving them both an approving nod as they passed by; Steven Grant – the quirky man they’d met while on vacation in Egypt and to whom (Y/N) was a devoted pen-pal – stood beside Layla El-Fouley, his alter Marc Spector’s stunning wife, and for the briefest moment, Loki could even see the skeletal figure of Khonshu lingering by one of the distant trees; their new and reluctant friend Doctor Stephen Strange, now dressed in a simple black tuxedo instead of his sorcerer’s robes, stood beside his fellow sorcerer Wong and attempted to not look as uncomfortable as he presumably felt amongst so many superheroes; Peter Parker and Ned Leeds were trying their hardest not to seem too excited to be sharing a row with Doctor Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis, and Loki could hear (Y/N) stifle a giggle when the eccentric woman winked and fired finger-guns at them; Scott Lang and Hope Van Dyne’s attention was caught between watching Loki and (Y/N) make their way down the aisle and keeping an eye on Cassie standing on the gazebo beside Thor, while Bucky and Sam both smiled widely at them as they passed; Bruce stood beside his cousin Jennifer Walters, who was already flirtatiously eyeing an embarrassed Rhodey standing across the aisle, while Pepper elbowed a snickering Tony; Steve and Clint stood at one of the front rows, the super soldier beaming with happiness and the archer filming their procession with his camcorder.

At the front of Loki’s side of the aisle stood their Asgardian and Alfheimian friends and family. Fandral winked at him and Sif grinned widely as Volstagg toasted them with the chocolate bar he was snacking on and even the ever-stoic Hogun gave them an atypical smile. Queen Amirah of Alfheim stood beside her guards, Hagen and Myriani, and the afternoon sunlight make her blue opal tiara sparkle almost as much as her smile, and at the end of the row stood Frigga, who was dabbing at her tear-filled eyes with a handkerchief as they walked past and ascended the gazebo’s steps.

Elora patiently waited for all the guests to take their seats to begin. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Crown Princess (Y/N) Layeiadottir (Y/L/N) of Alfheim and Midgard and Prince Loki of Asgard, two halves of the same shining soul, in blessed matrimony. Do both parties stand here of your own free will to acknowledge the eternal bond shared by the both of you?”

“We do,” Loki and (Y/N) replied in unison.

“Then you may face one another, join hands and recite your written vows.”

After (Y/N) handed her bouquet over to Natasha and placed her hands in Loki’s, she took a steadying breath before smiling up at him. “Loki. Through all the tears and all the struggles we’ve overcome together, a part of me always knew that we were destined to make it here. My heart was yours the moment I first looked into your beautiful eyes and as I look into them now, I can see every ounce of the passion and devotion I feel for you reflected in them. Sweetheart, you’re my greatest love and the brightest light in my life, and I promise to love and cherish you from here to eternity as your wife.”

Loki swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself not to cry as he started speaking his own vows. “(Y/N). Not a day goes by where I don’t count myself the luckiest man in all the Nine Realms to have the love of someone as utterly magnificent as you. In the beginning of our romance, I feared that you were too good to be true, that I couldn’t possibly be deserving of someone so pure and loving as you are. But here we stand, surrounded by our friends and family, and I feel proud and incredibly blessed to become your husband. My darling, you’re my lover, my best friend and my eternal soulmate. All I am is yours, and here before our friends, our family and the Norns themselves, I vow to be until the end of time.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were filled with unshed tears and although Loki’s gaze never left hers, he could hear the sniffles and rustling of Kleenex packages amongst their guests. “(Y/N), do you take Loki to be your husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love him faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

“I do,” (Y/N) vowed and smiled widely up at him.

“Loki, do you take (Y/N) to be your wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and disappointment, to love her faithfully today, tomorrow and forever?”

Loki solemnly nodded as he vowed, “I do.”

“And now, for the rings.”

Cassie nodded, handing one ring to Natasha and the other to Thor before giving her father an excited wave, causing a ripple of giggles through the rows of guests; the spy handed (Y/N) the ring and her eyes flicked between his and the thin band she held as she recited the ceremony’s next words. “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” She slipped the band onto his ring finger to rest above his gold engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

Accepting the ring that his brother handed him, Loki gave (Y/N) another smile before reciting, “I present to you this ring as a symbol of my devotion.” He slipped the band onto her finger above her sparkling engagement ring. “My body, my soul and my everlasting love I share with you always and forever.”

“May these symbols of your devotion serve to always remind you of your everlasting bond.” Elora’s golden-colored eyes were slowly misting over as she spoke, no doubt wishing that (Y/N)’s late mother and father could be there to witness their only child be married. “And now, by the power vested in me by my rank as General of the Alfheimian Army, it is my honor to declare you both married. Go forth and live each day of your lives together to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Beaming with happiness, (Y/N) stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against Loki’s in a brief but passionate kiss that he was quick to reciprocate. For one singular blissful moment, everything and everyone around them faded away and they stood alone on the gazebo, sharing a sweet and loving kiss that symbolized their long-awaited unification as husband and wife. The cheering and applause from their guests brought Loki back to reality sooner than he would’ve liked but after reminding himself that they’d have plenty of time to be alone later, he ended their kiss and gave his wife a mischievous smile before scooping her up in his arms and spinning around while she burst into joyous laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say that the wedding reception was one of the liveliest parties (Y/N) had ever attended would be an understatement. From the moment they were declared husband and wife, she felt as through she’d been whisked straight into a dream that seemingly had no end to it; once they finished having their wedding photographs taken, they spent a half an hour by themselves in one of Stark Mansion’s many living rooms, enjoying several slices of pizza (and lots of kisses, of course) and taking time to relax for the first time that day while the guests filtered into the ballroom for the reception.

After (Y/N) and Loki snuck into the beautifully-decorated ballroom and made their rounds around the tables to greet their guests as they enjoyed their dinner, the trio of teenagers they’d allowed to be their DJ’s took their places behind their equipment and announced the bride and groom’s first dance as husband and wife; they both had fun watching their guests’ reactions when, instead of some sort of romantic waltz or ballad, they danced along to the fast-paced disco hit ‘You’re The First, The Last, My Everything,’ spinning and twirling so much around the dance floor that (Y/N) was thankful she’d removed her floral crown and veil and that Loki had dressed down to just his black tuxedo.

The guests took to the dance floor once dinner was cleared away and while Loki danced with Frigga, Thor asked (Y/N) for a dance. From there, (Y/N) danced with every member of the Avengers and their off-realm guests to a wide variety of music; she requested Big Band tunes for Steve and Bucky and slower songs for Bruce and the Warrior’s Three, while Tony, Clint and Sam happily danced along with her to some faster pop numbers. Natasha pulled her into a ladies-only group dance with Jane, Darcy, Helen and Maria, and after a brief dance with Everett Ross, (Y/N) had their trio of DJ’s pause the music so she could reveal her surprise for Loki.

“I’d like to start out by thanking you all for being here with us today,” (Y/N) began as she stood before the crowded ballroom. “As I’m sure some of you know, I had a difficult road to recovery after the Battle of Boston. Sam suggested that I take up playing the piano again as a form of musical therapy, but I was hesitant at first; you see, my aunt taught me to play when I was a child and I stopped when she died because I couldn’t enjoy the music without her. Loki…” Her voice momentarily caught in her throat at the unexpected emotions welling up within her, but spotting her husband standing amongst the crowd helped her to steady herself and keep going. “Loki stayed with me every single time I sat myself at the piano. With him by my side, I found the strength to enjoy the music again and slowly but surely, I started to heal. Loki’s always been there for me when I needed him the most, which is why I’d like to dedicate this next song to my new husband.”

Peter and MJ plugged in the last chord as (Y/N) sat down at the electric keyboard they’d set up for her, both teenagers ducking out of the way with a whispered “break a leg!” while she adjusted the microphone and straightened her posture; seeing the curious expression on Loki’s face and the eager anticipation filling his emerald-green eyes, (Y/N) gave him a smile and a little wink before she began to play.

“Sweet, wonderful you, you make me happy with the things you do. Oh, can it be so, this feeling follows me wherever I go. I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” A widening grin played on (Y/N)’s lips as the guests took to the dance floor and started to dance to the spirited Fleetwood Mac tune while she sang. “I never did believe in miracles, but I’ve a feeling it’s time to try…I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I’m beginning to wonder why…” While the guests continued to dance, Loki approached the electric keyboard she was seated at and watched her fingers fly across the keys with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t, don’t break the spell, it would be different and you know it will. You, you make loving fun, and I don’t have to tell you but you’re the only one. You, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…you, you make loving fun, it’s all I want to do…”

When the song finally came to an end, the crowd burst into applause and their three DJ’s were quick to select another pop song that kept everyone out on the dance floor. (Y/N) thanked the teenagers for their help and crossed the makeshift stage to where Loki stood but before she could say anything, his arms were around her and he was dipping her low as his lips captured hers in a reverent kiss; when they were finally forced to separate for air, her husband straightened them both up but kept his arms wound around her waist and gave her a tender grin. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sing, darling, and you sang that beautiful song just for me. Rest assured, I’ll treasure that moment for the rest of my days.”

“Thanks to our archer-turned-videographer, you’ll be able to watch it over and over until you get sick of it,” (Y/N) chuckled as she glanced past Loki to see Clint filming Natasha and Thor reenacting the famous lift from Dirty Dancing to the amazement of the dancers nearest to them.

Loki’s fingers gently took hold of her chin and guided her to look at him, and his love-struck gaze remained trained on hers as he slowly shook his head. “Never, my love. Now, how about a slice of cake and some Asgardian mead?”

Everyone gathered to watch (Y/N) and Loki cut their three-tiered wedding cake with one of his intricate daggers and after they’d indulged in their dessert, four of their grinning and slightly-inebriated teammates took to the makeshift stage; Natasha and Clint’s cheeks were tinged red, Sam’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his bow-tie was missing, and Tony couldn’t contain his giggles as he stepped up to one of the microphones.

“Hey, guys! Great party, huh?” The crowd cheered and Tony nodded in agreement. “Well, you better hold onto your hats ‘cause it’s about to get even greater!”

(Y/N), who was standing beside Loki and catching up with both Pepper and Helen, looked over at her husband with eyes widened in horror. “He’s not about to give a speech, is he?”

“Not if he doesn’t wanna spend tonight sleeping on the couch,” The CEO replied before taking another sip of her champagne. “Trust me, he and I already had a lengthy discussion about what constitutes as appropriate wedding reception behavior.”

“In my experience, Mr. Stark tends not to retain information told to him in less than three sentences or in any tone other than pleasant.” The world-renowned geneticist let out a long-suffering sigh and watched the four Avengers setting up several more microphone stands. “Hence why he’s permanently banned from my laboratory.”

While Pepper gave Helen an understanding nod, Loki wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and gave her a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure that whatever they’re planning will be very touching…also, Romanoff stole Stark’s intended speech and vaguely threatened bodily harm if he attempted to improvise one; he may be an impulsive Midgardian, but he knows better than to find himself at the mercy of the Black Widow.”

(Y/N) chuckled as the lighting dimmed and all of a sudden, a spotlight landed on the two of them. “You see, the four of us up here got together and decided we wanted to do somethin’ special for our two good friends here. Like (Y/L/N) here mentioned earlier, she used music to help her out during her recovery and she’d play for all of us in the tower; so, we got together and figured that it was time we were the ones to play something for her…or rather, sing something for her. Hit it, adolescent DJ’s!”

The teenagers began to play an instrumental track of Frankie Valli and the Four Season’s ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You,’ and Loki offered her his hand. “Shall we?”

With a smile on her face, (Y/N) nodded and allowed her husband to lead her to the empty center of the dance floor, slow-dancing along to the song’s pleasant introduction and biting her lip to keep from giggling when Tony and Sam started singing and Natasha and Clint provided their back-up vocals. “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Did you tell them that I like this song?” (Y/N) suddenly asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she examined Loki’s overly-cheerful face. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned to any of them that I like this song.”

Loki merely arched a brow and his emerald-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now, why would I do such an odd thing as that?”

“Pardon the way that I stare, there’s nothin’ else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it’s real. You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

As the small instrumental revved up for the chorus, (Y/N) was twirled around in tight circles and before she could question her husband further, his voice suddenly echoed throughout the ballroom and sang, “I love you, baby!” (Y/N) gasped in disbelief when she looked over at the makeshift stage to see Loki standing at one of the microphones, and she laughed when she realized that her dance partner was a clone created from Loki’s magic. “And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…” Loki was grinning widely as he sang and when his eyes found (Y/N)’s, he gave her a sly wink. “Oh, pretty baby! Now that I’ve found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you!”

“You really are a trickster,” (Y/N) remarked to Loki’s smirking clone, who merely shrugged and continued to sway them across the dance floor.

“When our friendship first began, my darling (Y/N) took it upon herself to introduce me to all of Midgard’s greatest literary creations and being the dedicated bibliophile that she is, she more than succeeded.” The real Loki onstage smiled as he held onto the microphone. “Each and every novel and play she recommended provided me insight into her beautiful mind but when it came to watching the filmed adaptations of her favorite literary works, I was able to observe just how they affected her…which is how I know that (Y/N) adores the scene in a certain modern Shakespearean adaptation when the handsome lead surprises the heroine with a public show of affection.”

(Y/N) felt her face warm and a reluctant grin spread across her face as she glanced back at the clone she was dancing with. “10 Things I Hate About You was the first movie we watched together when I joined the Avengers. I…I can’t believe you remembered that…”

The clone leaned down and pressed a kiss onto her forehead while the real Loki onstage continued to sing. “I love you, baby! And if it’s quite alright I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby, trust in me when I say…Oh, pretty baby! Don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby, now that I’ve found you, stay, oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…”

When the song came to an end, the clone vanished in a shimmer of green magic and as the crowd clapped and cheered, an impressed-looking Darcy leaned towards (Y/N) and yelled over the din, “Geez, is there anything that guy can’t do?”

“If there is, then I’ve certainly never seen it!” (Y/N) chuckled and when Loki finally made his way through the crowd, she looped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “That was beautiful, sweetheart!”

“It was a challenge to keep our rehearsals a secret and I might’ve downed a shot or two of liquid courage beforehand, but I’m glad that you enjoyed it.” He pressed a kiss onto the tip of her nose and grinned when she laughed at the ticklish sensation. “You surprised me with a beautifully-performed song, and I surprised you with a slightly-less conventional performance; I suppose that great minds really do think alike.”

“Okay, here’s another oldie for all you oldies out there!” Ned Leeds’ amplified voice announced and the opening notes of The Village People’s ‘Y.M.C.A.’ filled the ballroom, causing the guests to eagerly take to the dance floor.

Nearby, Jane frowned and turned to Darcy standing beside her. “Wait, did that kid just call us old?”

“Join the club,” Both Steve and Bucky quipped as Natasha and Jennifer Walters dragged them past towards the center of the dance floor.

“Oh, I love this song!” (Y/N) grabbed Loki’s hands and started to sway along to the catchy beat. “It was in The Office, remember? It’s the song that plays towards the end of the Café Disco episode!”

“You’re right, but I’m still confused as to why a song about a worldwide youth organization inspires such a visceral reaction in Midgardians.” Loki studied the dancers around them in curious amusement. “And what about it has anything to do with weddings?”

She ducked under his arms and spun so that her back was pressed against his front, craning her neck so that she could meet his gaze with a grin. “It’s a catchy, cheesy song that has the easiest dance moves in the world to perform. Doesn’t that make it the perfect party song?”

Loki shrugged and spun her back out to face him. “Only if one has the perfect dance partner to go along with it.”

“Then I suppose we’re in luck,” (Y/N) quipped, pressing a kiss onto her husband’s knuckles before manipulating his arms along to the song’s iconic chorus and dissolving into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of the God of Mischief dancing along to ‘Y.M.C.A..’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the moon was high in the star-filled sky and the reception inside Stark Mansion was beginning to wind down, Loki and (Y/N) snuck off to the gazebo they were married in and swayed to the slow music playing in the distance, surrounded only by the beautiful flowers and twinkling fairy lights that decorated the structure. (Y/N)’s head rested on Loki’s shoulder and his eyes were closed as one of his hands held hers against his chest, directly over his heart.

“Do you think that we’ll see Doctor Strange again?”

Loki thoughtfully hummed and nodded. “I’m sure we will, but not for a long while; I believe that the superhero lifestyle unnerved the poor fellow and I doubt he wants to incite the anger of any of our friends. As long as you continue to train and master your abilities, there won’t be a reason for that second-rate sorcerer to bother you again.”

(Y/N) lifted her head so that she could meet his gaze, a single brow arched as her (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled with delight. “So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going on our honeymoon?”

“And ruin the surprise I’ve spent two months meticulously planning? Where’s the fun in that?”

“Loki, I have to know what sort of clothes to pack!”

“Darling, I don’t imagine we’ll be wearing any for the majority of the honeymoon.” Loki’s teasing snickers quickly transitioned to laughter when (Y/N)’s fingers mercilessly tickled his neck in retaliation. “All right, all right, I surrender! On Monday, you and I will travel the Bifrost to Karapiro, New Zealand and spend ten days at Lakeview Lodge; we’ll have the opportunity to visit Rotorua, the Waitomo Caves and even take a tour of-”

“Hobbiton,” (Y/N) gasped and Loki’s grin widened as her face lit up with excitement. “We’re going to see where they filmed The Lord of the Rings movies?!” When he nodded, she flung her arms around his neck and nearly tackled him to the floor with the force of her embrace, but he was quick to catch her and hold her up against him while she laughed in delight. “I have the absolute best husband in the world!”

Loki’s heart leapt in his chest when she called him her husband and when she moved her hands to cradle his face, he tenderly smiled up at her and replied, “Well, the best wife in the world deserves everything I can offer her and more, does she not?”

(Y/N)’s expression softened into a look of loving adoration, and the feather-light touch of her thumbs caressing his cheekbones nearly made his eyes flutter closed in bliss. “You know, I think about that day we first met in the library from time to time. I replay the entire scene my mind – how I stumbled and how you were by my side in an instant to catch me, how our eyes locked and my breath was nearly taken away by the way you looked at me, how my heartbeat sped up when I realized how much I enjoyed having your arms around me – and when I do, I thank the universe for sending a mischievous and misunderstood trickster to steal my heart that day.”

“When I think of that fateful day, I find myself thanking the Norns for sending a kind and passionate lost princess to spellbind me, body and soul,” Loki huskily replied as his eyes stung with the prickling of tears. “And I pray that she’ll never set me free.”

(Y/N), her eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy, gently shook her head and leaned forward to ghost her lips over his. “As long as the trickster holds her heart, she never ever will. So…” She held her hand up and stuck her little finger into the air with the hint of a playful grin on her face. “Pinky-Promise?”

Loki laughed and adjusted his hold on her so that he could wrap his little finger around hers. “Pinky-Promise.”

Their lips finally met in a passionate and unhurried kiss and Loki sighed at the heavenly sensation of (Y/N)’s fingers carding through his hair, holding his beautiful wife in a tight embrace and smiling through the love-filled kisses they exchanged beneath the gazebo’s twinkling lights.

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A/N: I honestly loved writing this and indulging in some of my own personal wedding dreams lol if anyone would like to see the different reference pics I used while designing the wedding, just shoot me a message and I’ll send ‘em to you! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk?si=5fcb3ef04de544e7

Three’s Company (A Spellbinding-Verse Interlude)

“Spellbinding” Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie99 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @a-laufeyson @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki @crowleysqueenofhell @groovy-lady @mostclevermiss

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creativia10 · 2 years

Text

Punk with Lavender

Summary: Roman is ready to spend Halloween with his usual group of friends. He finds himself more surprised by their costumes than he expected to be.

Relationships: romantic Prinxiety, platonic brotherly Creativitwins, background romantic Dukeceit, romantic Logicality

Wordcount: 1010

Warnings: some mockery (but it's light-hearted teasing among friends)

Notes: Tuliptober Prompt 30-Oneshots

Part of one-shots. Will have more than one.

Set for Halloween

@transexualfoxprince

Based on @tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors Pastel/Punk verse

Roman smoothed out his costume and looked himself over in the mirror. He smiled. He thought he cleaned up rather well and made for a great dark prince if he did say so himself. The style looked like that of a typical fairytale prince costume. Except the color scheme was black and red. It fit him better anyways.

There was a knock on his door.

“Is his highness ready to come out yet?”

Roman snickered at Virgil’s unintentional irony.

“It’s funny you say that.”

Roman opened his apartment door only for his jaw to drop when he saw Virgil.

Virgil smirked. Virgil made fists and posed.

“Oo, look at me. I’m punk Roman. Totally a tough guy.”

Virgil was dressed like a punk. He was all in black. Roman didn’t think he’d ever seen Virgil lacking so much color. And he was wearing Roman’s jacket, a clothing item Roman let him borrow more on purpose now. He wore a mini skirt over fishnet stockings unlike Roman’s usual leather pants though. Still with boots though, just a bit more angular. The only thing that matched Virgil’s usual aesthetic, was his lavender-colored hair.

Virgil was still preening at Roman’s reaction. Roman blinked a few times.

“You don’t look completely like me,” Roman said. Virgil rolled his eyes and gestured with his head. They started walking out.

“Yeah, I thought it would be more fun this way.”

He shyly looked up at Roman.

“And uh, you look good too. Even if you couldn’t get a good roast in from your costume.”

Roman let out a little huff and put his arm around Virgil.

“I was perfectly fine with just looking good. Especially for you,” Roman said with a wink. Virgil shook his head.

“Idiot. You don’t have to do it for me.”

Virgil grumbled but leaned into Roman anyways. Roman hmmed.

The poetry café has been their group’s meeting spot anyways. The cafe didn’t officially have a Halloween event going on. But, it had become an unofficial tradition to dress up and hang out there around the spooky day anyways.

Apparently this year, Roman was not in on a group coordination effort though.

Remus was also dressed like a punk, but with neon green to replace Roman’s typical reds. He too smirked at Roman.

“Hey Ro, do I rock leather better than you? I bet I look so tough. Oo all this black totally means I’m extra and special.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I think your neon exterior ruins your point.”

Janus hmmed. His style was closer to Virgil’s current one. Janus wore a dark purple but with a leather skirt, and spiked heels.

“It is fun to see who could be intimidated by this though,” Janus added. Remus cackled and nodded in his agreement.

“Why did you all find it necessary to mock my style tonight?” Roman asked.

“Not everyone,” Logan said.

Roman looked over. Patton giggled. He was wearing a pastel blue sundress, the only one in pastel this time for some reason, which was an odd sight. He also had on blue converse. Patton’s hair was still dyed turquoise though, and his piercings were still in. Patton grabbed the ends of his skirt and spun around with a giggle.

“Oh, I love dressing so differently today! I feel like I look so cute! No wonder you all love to dress like this.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say cute is the correct descriptor for them usually,” Logan said. Indeed, the usual pastel wearers, Janus, Remus, and Virgil seemed offended.

“But uh,” Logan coughed, “You certainly do.”

Roman cooed at them with a smirk, getting a glare from Logan at his efforts. Remus mimed barfing in the background. Logan was the only other one who didn’t seem to be a part of this style-swapping scheme though. He was dressed as…a teacher maybe? Logan dressed like a professional, including a tie.

Janus gestured to the style swappers. “First it was just Virgil who wanted to, he thought roasting his new boyfriend was a good time. Something I can appreciate. Then Remus wanted to join as well. I thought the style sounded fun so I joined of my own volition. Patton didn’t seem to realize the intention was mockery and just wanted to have fun.”

Patton gaped at them.

“Of course, I’m not making fun of you! If anything, I’m honoring your look.”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “Yes, I did not understand it myself. But, it is apparently in good fun.”

“Speaking of, why did you choose to dress in that?” Remus asked. Logan huffed.

“It is different than my usual getup.”

“Yeah, but why a teacher?”

“It was different enough. I didn’t want to put too much effort into this when it is merely for going to our usual venue. I’m not exactly the costume type. Be grateful I dressed up for Halloween at all.”

Patton cooed at him and linked arms.

“Well, I think it still looks good honey. I can see you being smart enough to be a teacher.”

Logan blushed a bit, “Thank you, dear.”

Janus and Remus made disgusted faces again.

Roman looked back to Virgil. “You’re the only one who went far enough as to change your physical appearance for this though, I noticed.”

“Ah, yeah.” Virgil brushed some of his now lavender hair back behind an ear and looked away.

“I thought it worked with yall’s typical punk aesthetic. Plus, I had kind of been considering getting it colored like this anyways. What do you think?”

Roman smiled at Virgil. He gently tangled some of his fingers into the lavender hair as he brushed it out of Virgil’s eyes.

“I think it really suits you.”

Virgil smiled and shyly looked up at him again.

“Yeah?”

Roman nodded, “Of course.”

Roman leaned in for a kiss.

“Alright lovebirds, let’s get going before yall start falling into tunnel vision again.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, but the two of them turned to join the rest of the group to head to their favorite venue. It should be a good Halloween.

#Tuliptober2022 #ts roman #ts virgil #prinxiety #sanders sides #ts remus #ts janus #ts patton #ts logan

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walker-extended-universe · 8 months

Text

A Happy Love Story

Relationship(s): August Walker/Sadie Yoo, August Walker & Stella Walker

Tags/Warnings: Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Courting, Swooning, Flirting

Summary: In which Sadie courts August and he is very appreciative

Part 3 of the Shame verse

Written for @flufftober Day 21- Swoon

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

------

The Walker family had a habit of taking on strays. Not that they’d ever use that language, but it was true. People in their orbit that had little in the way of family tended to find themselves wrapped up in the ever growing Walker family hugs.

As such, it was no surprise that when Sadie Yoo came into their lives, she became a fixture in their little clan through no fault of her own. Between living at Geri’s house and Abby constantly extending invites to family dinner, it was almost impossible to avoid.

What was a surprise was her attraction to August, something none of them were aware of until Sadie asked Cordell for permission to court his son.

“You know, if anyone should be giving you permission to court him, it’s August,” he said, mostly because he wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Well, duh,” Sadie said. “But you seemed the traditional type and I didn’t want to step on any toes.”

“Uh huh, sure.” Cordell squared his shoulders. “In that case, you should know August has had some trouble with Alphas in the past. One of those encounters was particularly scarring. I’m sure you have no intention of hurting him, but if you do, I’m in a position to cause you a world of hurt. As is the rest of my family. Is that clear?”

Sadie smirked. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Later, after dinner, Sadie did ask August’s permission to court him. Though he seemed surprised by the offer, he said yes.

—--------

August wasn’t expecting much from Sadie’s courtship. He knew what he should expect from an Alpha from talks with his father and his grandmother. Gifts, dates, some overprotective behavior. “Nothing that makes you uncomfortable; if they overstep, don’t be afraid to tell them. And if you are afraid to tell them, then tell me,” Cordell had stressed.

At the time, he hadn’t thought the talk would be necessary. Sure, many parts of society still considered omegas important and special and all that, but times had changed since his grandparents’ day. Omegas weren’t married off as soon as possible and fertility just didn’t matter as much to people these days. He didn’t think that just being openly omega was going to bring about a ton of suitors, or any at all if he was being honest.

Sadie asking him had been a surprise, but a very welcome one. From the first day they met, August had felt a pull toward her that he couldn’t explain.

Despite his strong feelings for Sadie, he wasn’t expecting much. He knew she didn’t have much in the way of money and it’s not like she had a lot of competition. And it’s not like his standards were all that high. Honestly, flowers and chocolates would completely win him over.

But Sadie, August found, really liked defying his expectations.

She never bought him flowers, but she did bring him a freshly picked bouquet once a week. She never bought him chocolates, but she did bake him cookies and brownies on the regular. She never took him to fancy restaurants, but she came by the ranch every day just to talk to him. And usually to drop off a cute love note that he would find sometime later and wait to read in secret because he didn’t need Stella teasing him about his blush.

Sadie was absolutely doing her best to woo him. And August was, for lack of a better word, utterly swooning.

“Has she officially asked to mate you yet?” Stella asked him one day.

“Not yet,” he said, carefully arranging the latest flower delivery. “Why?”

“Just curious.” She hummed. “And you’re okay with all this, right? She’s not making you uncomfortable or anything?”

“No.”

“And she hasn’t asked you to do anything in return, right?”

“No.” That was one thing he’d been nervous about initially, especially with all the attention Sadie was lavishing him with. But she’d been nothing but respectful so far and barely even held his hand without asking permission. “We did kiss once but I initiated it. So relax.”

She nodded. “Okay. That’s good. You know I worry. After Kevin-”

“Sadie’s not him,” he said firmly. Just hearing that bastard’s name brought on a bad mood. “Are you done with the questions? She’s going to be here soon.”

“Augie, I just-”

“Am I interrupting something?”

August had never been happier to hear Sadie’s voice. “Nope! Come in.”

Sadie smirked and held up a picnic basket. “Actually, I was hoping you could come out here.”

If August were an 18th century high society lady, he might physically swoon at that. But, as it was, he just let his heart do a little dance. “Yeah, that sounds fun…”

“Make sure you bring him-”

Sadie cut Stella off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll have him home by midnight. I know the rules, Fairy Godmother.”

Stella scowled but waved them off. “Have fun.”

“We will!” Sadie held out her hand. “Ready to go?”

August gripped her hand as his heart skipped a beat. “With you? Always.”

#flufftober2023 #day 21 #swoon #walker #fic #august/sadie #my writing #my fic

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sylphidine · 4 months

Text

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 35

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairings: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]; Spamton/T.M. [SpamManager or Tasqueton, not quite sure of the ship name]

Characters: Terese Marlena Tinker [previously T.M. Tanner], Catechu Dyer, Indigo Dyer, Spamton Addison, Swatch Paletta, Julius Dyer, Desiree Dyer, Kirov Rouvin

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Bootstrapped Leitmotif

Chapter summary: Spring is newly sprung. Our cast of characters has some adjustments to make, some minor, some major.

Author notes: Wow, two chapters in a single week?

Happy International Fanworks Day.

No trigger warnings, but content warnings for present alcohol use and past dubious consent.

_________

T.M. had wasted no time in changing desire into action. After getting her mother to hand over all the official originals of the documents T.M. would need, she sent a notarized letter to Mrs. Tanner stating her request for a cessation of all unsolicited contact.

[T.M. had wanted to send the letter to the attention of "the future Mrs. Horseface Fucker", but Swatch and Spamton between them had talked her out of it.]

Letter sent, T.M. started the process of getting her name legally changed to Terese Marlena Tinker.

Washing dishes side by side with Catechu in Spamton's and Swatch's kitchen a few days later, she ticked off verbal bullet points to explain her thinking. “This is New York, the home of red tape. It’s gonna take months, no matter what the site says about six to eight weeks. It’s probably better for me to get this nailed down before my job starts in July. Easier for HR, easier for any place where I end up signing a lease."

Indigo looked up from where he was finishing icing the brownies he'd made. "You're still going to be able to use TMT for your initials. That's smart. Keep your brand, kind of."

"That's the idea."

Catto finished drying a plate and slotted it into the dish drain. Paying no attention to T.M.'s wet hands or the running water, he picked her up and twirled her around. "You're still my big sis, no matter what your name is. You can smack my head if I slip up and call you Tabsy."

"Same here. And chances are I'll mess up more than that galoot," added Indo, pointing at his twin. "He's had practice, at least."

"Oh? Do tell." Back on her feet now, T.M. abandoned the sink and moved to sit at the table, eyeing the brownies hungrily.

"Yeah, well, it's like this." Catechu rubbed the back of his head, looking sheepish. "Kendra's got a brother who used to be her sister, and now he's Emmett instead of Emily, and I don't always remember, so it's just easier for me to say 'Em' when I talk about her. Him, I mean."

This seemed to unlock some kind of heartfelt logjam, because Catto then burst out with, "I never had trouble when Swatch started wanting to be 'they'. So why is it so hard for me to hear you changing your name?"

Indigo looked at T.M., and she looked back at him. She got up and patted Catechu’s arm.

The big man was shaking. "Everything's changing, and I hate it."

The only thing T.M. could think of saying, "You both can still call me Tabsy."

Catto turned away and picked up another dish to dry that didn’t need to be dried. He said gruffly, “What the hell is taking Swatch and Spamton so long? There can’t be that many different kinds of cough drops at Pathmark.”

T.M. wisely did not point out that Swatch and Spamton had been gone less than ten minutes.

______

The two of them passed the registered letter back and forth.

ADDISON CYBERNETICS

1997 CIRCUIT DRIVE, SUITE 356

WHITE PLAINS, NY 10610

March 17, 2022

Dear Mx. Paletta:

Congratulations! I’m thrilled to extend an offer for our mask design internship in our Integrated Circuit Layout department at Addison Cybernetics.

Your start date will be Monday, June 6, 2022. On your first day, you will report directly to Sam Chua. Your internship will take place between the hours of 9am and 4:30pm, with a cap at 48 hours per week should additional projects require it.

We’re pleased to offer you a salary of $82.300 for the year’s internship, to be broken into weekly payments of $1582.69.

At Addison Cybernetics, we pride ourselves on creating informative and rewarding experiences for our interns. That’s why you can look forward to receiving 1:1 mentorship, learning and development opportunities, and access to company privileges

To accept this offer, please sign and return this letter by March 31, 2022. In the meantime, feel free to reach out with any questions. We look forward to welcoming you to the team.

Sincerely,

Anne Demetriou

Human Resources, Addison Cybernetics

AD/glb

“I can’t believe how fast they made up their minds. I only interviewed a week ago.”

“It’s to the c-c-company’s benefit not to - not to waste time.”

“I don’t know whether to kiss this letter or to frame it.”

“The f-f-first thing you need to do with that letter is sign all three copies and date - date them, s-s-send two of’em back, and THEN you c-can kiss the last one and put it under - our pillow.”

“Good thinking.”

“B-b-but you do know they’re lowballing you, right?”

“How so?”

“They’re g-g-going to make you do a full engineer’s work for the absolute minimum they can - they can g-get away with.”

“I don’t care. It’s a foot in the door. Besides, most of the engineering internships I looked at last year before Fairlight got sick paid less than half that.” “Shit. I t-take it back. You’re gonna be a k-king, king.”

“Thank you.”

Spamton pulled Swatch down on top of him with surprising strength and kissed them fiercely. “So, so proud of you,” he murmured into Swatch’s hair.

_________

"Hello, fellow dreamers, this is DJ Dreamweaver. Before we all cross tonight's highways of fantasy together, so I can help you forget today's pain, I've got two announcements to make.

“First, and on the trivial side, due to seasonal shift changes here at WRCI, I’m pleased to announce that the DJ Dreamweaver show will be moving next week, starting on the 29th, to the Tuesday evening 8pm to 10pm slot. DJ Zonker will be burning the midnight oil with you on Wednesdays in my place to help you survive the midweek blues.

"Second, and much more importantly, don't forget that WRCI, the Nifty 850, the station that rocks a whole square block, will have a booth at the Seeds of Peace Festival in Garlic Park next month on Saturday, April 8th, rain or shine. The Seeds of Peace Festival is a fundraiser for relief efforts in Ukraine. Eight DJs from WRCI, including yours truly, will be spinning tunes from 8am until midnight for a sixteen-hour dance marathon to raise money for Ukraine. Sign up sheets and pledge forms are available to download from our website, or else pick up your hard copy from DJ Kaard in his office at the Student Union during station hours.

“Now it’s time to open the show with the late and much-missed Tom Petty, backed by his Heartbreakers and Jeff Lynne, performing ‘Learning To Fly’.”

_________

The vibrant, art-filled walls of SpaHa Soul never failed to send a shiver of happiness down Swatch’s spine. The Friday night after they got their offer letter, they followed Uncle Julius to a corner glass-topped table, while Indigo pulled out a chair for Aunt Desiree. Catechu chatted with the guitarist setting up for the evening’s set and waved at Artist T., just emerging from the kitchen with plates for the group of diners in the opposite corner.

Uncle Julius had found this place about eight years ago and it had become THE go-to place for Dyer-Paletta family celebrations.

And tonight they were here to celebrate Indo and Catto’s getting summer internships at the Wythe in Williamsburg, as well as Swatch’s internship.

“Chef’s choice tonight, sir,” Uncle Julius said to Artist T., after getting a hearty backslap from the proprietor. “All three of these fine young people, going out into the world and making their mark!”

“It’s a better world for you all being in it,” agreed Artist T., making a note on his pad and heading back through the swinging doors.

“I like the new glasses, honey,” Aunt Desiree commented to Swatch. “You look good in aviators, and brown is a nice color for you.”

Swatch nodded.”The tint’s helpful for cutting out blue light, and since I expect I’m going to be spending a lot more time in front of screens with the new job, I figured they were worth a splurge.”

On the other side of the table, Indo was listing off all the different areas in the boutique hotel where he and his twin would be working during their ten weeks. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep a straight face when I’m answering phones and directing calls to ‘Le Crocodile’. It’ll probably get easier after a while. At least ‘Bar Blondeau’ sounds more normal. Only thing I’m worried about is getting there on time every day.”

“Better than the commute would have been if we’d gotten the gig at The Ludlow. That commute would have been a real bitch.” Catto caught his mother’s glare and muttered, “Sorry, mom. It would have been a real bear .”

Uncle Julius laughed and then turned to Swatch. “You’re going to be cutting it awfully fine, between graduation and starting this new job. You’d better start looking at apartments now if you don’t think your landlady will extend your lease past June.”

“I know. Even with a decent salary, I’m either going to have to spend all my time commuting or all my money on a shoebox to live in.” They realized that it sounded like they were complaining, and quickly added with a laugh in their voice, “Or I could ask my favorite aunt to use her real estate agent superpowers and her mad networking skills.”

“That’s the spirit,” Aunt Desiree answered. “We’re not going to leave you out in the cold, even if you have to stay with us for a month or so while you’re getting your feet under you. You’ve got family, don’t forget.

Swatch smiled back at her. “I will never forget that.”

“And don’t forget we’re proud of you. All three of you,” Uncle Julius interjected, waving his hand to include his sons. “Not a bad apple in the bunch.”

“Thanks, Pop,” Indo replied for himself and for his brother. “Especially thanks for being such a good sport about us not working at Ambit Automation.” “Oh, you boys might still end up there if the economy tanks. Luxury disappears, but people always need manufacturing. Look at the Brooklyn Navy Yards. That’s as big a comeback as the Jazz beating the Nuggets.”

“But the boys are using their degrees,” Aunt Desiree pointed out. “Degrees that you and I both approved of, husband mine.”

“Yes, dear.”

At that moment Artist T. and Amber swooped in with platters of fried chicken, stuffed pork chops, coconut rice, spicy yams, and collard greens, enough to feed an army.

Catechu raised his glass. “To family.”

Four glasses clinked against his.

________

“Tell me more about these buff birdmen in corsets,” T.M. teased.

Spamton chuckled in embarrassed remembrance. “They weren’t actually b-b-birds. They wore bird masks. Like - like beaks. Sexier than plague d-d-doctors.”

“So you turned your living room into an adults-only butler cafe for your twentieth birthday party.”

“I’m not - not pr-proud of who I was then. I didn’t - didn’t br-break the ‘no touch’ rule, but I did - I did ogle a lot.”

“You weren’t a complete sleaze, I guess.”

“Thank you, Trez.”

The first time Spamton had fumbled his words while trying out T.M. 's new name, “Terese” had come out of his mouth as “Trez”. To his relief and delight, she had happily adopted it as a nickname.

She was curled up in the basket chair in the upstairs room that Swatch had named “Spamton’s eyrie”. He was sitting on the floor and had his head in her lap while she played with his hair. Spamton had taken the advice of his current therapist and was now giving T.M. some of the edited “highlights” of his checkered past.

HEAVILY edited.

“I c-could do the flexing thing, if you wanted. But I don’t think it would b-be quite as impressive as those g-guys.” He got to his knees and raised his face to meet her kiss.

They hadn’t moved beyond kissing yet, and T.M. seemed perfectly happy with that. She told him how much she enjoyed how carefully he kissed her. “Some guys think they have to be rough because I’ve got piercings, like it’s a challenge.”

Spamton was fairly sure that she knew he was careful only because he didn’t have a lot of experience kissing people with piercings, but she was too courteous to say so. The snakebite bothered him less and less the more often they kissed, since her daily jewelry consisted of the tiniest of studs.

The sound of the front door downstairs opening and shutting made them both smile. “Up here!” Spamton called out, sitting back down on the rug.

Swatch called back, “Are you decent?” as they climbed the stairs.

“Yes, and we’re even dressed!” T.M. trilled. This exchange had become the three’s shared joke.

“How was - how was d-d-dinner?”

“Fabulous. Real, honest-to-God soul food, in more ways than one.” Swatch took Spamton’s desk chair and turned to sit backwards on it. “My aunt and uncle send their love.”

“I gotta go down to Queens soon and just have a girly day with Desiree. It’s long overdue.” “Mmmm-hmmm. And maybe you can pick her brain about apartment-hunting. As Uncle Julius reminded me, graduation’s just around the corner.”

“Yeah.”

Spamton changed the subject to stave off the panic he felt at the idea of these two leaving him just when he'd found them. “N-now that all three - all three of us are here, c-can I ask both for a - a favor?��

“Of course.”

“Yeah, of course. Ask away, Short Stuff.”

“C-can you both sit in with me in the stu-stu-studio for the first leg of my radio show next week? I’m going to try something d-d-d-different and I kind of - kind of need both of you there.”

T.M. looked across at Swatch and nodded. Swatch got up and pulled Spamton to his feet and into a hug. With a suspicious raspiness in their voice, they said, “We’ll be there.”

_________

“I printed two copies, just in case you didn’t get a chance to.”

“Thank you, schwitthott.” T.M. took one of the sheets from Swatch and started reading.

The two of them stood in the hallway of the student union, just outside the doors of WRCI’s main studio, waiting for Spamton. The dinnertime DJ was playing J-pop.

“He said this was your idea?” Swatch asked.

“Kind of. I mentioned I have a set of ‘go to hell’ playlists that I rotate through to cope with stuff. This timeline stuff though, that’s all 100% our lad’s doing.” T.M. smiled fondly.

“Our lad. I like that. Not ‘lad’ like he’s our kid. but like we’re all lads together.”

“Uh huh.”

Swatch leaned against the wall and sighed. “So you know that he was homeless for a while, after… well, after everything.”

She nodded. “It explains a lot about his food issues. As horrible as it might sound, I’m really, really happy that it wasn’t what I first thought.”

“Oh?”

“I thought Spamton had the same thing going on that I did with my dad. At least the whole power-trippy withholding food thing so I had to hoard stuff. Trust me, I would have put at least one of his siblings through a wall if that’s what had happened.”

“Remind me never to wander down a dark alley with you when you’re pissed off with me, Moggy.”

Swatch straightened up when they saw Spamton walking down the hallway towards the other two.

T.M. murmured, “It’s showtime.”

When he reached them, Spamton stretched up and gave each a kiss on the cheek. “Let’s - let’s do this thing.”

______

“Welcome to the premiere of the Tuesday night version of the DJ Dreamweaver show. Normally I give a little bit of background on what I’ve chosen for the night’s selections. This time around, I’m going to let the music do the talking. Thanks for listening.”

T.M. sat beside Spamton on one side of the booth, headphones on, ready to help him with the potentiometers for segues and fade-ins. Swatch sat on the opposite side, just there to listen and to give moral support. Spamton had mentioned that the playlist was less than an hour long, so Swatch would have plenty of time to leave before the extra Tuesday night shift they’d picked up at Plato’s.

They picked up the printed sheet of paper and started to read along with the lyrics Spamton had typed out, as well as Spamton’s notes as to why he’d put particular songs in his “timeline”.

THE LOGICAL SONG - SUPERTRAMP

[ Self-explanatory, the little kid I was, and my boarding school days ]

When I was young

It seemed that life was so wonderful

A miracle, oh it was beautiful, magical

And all the birds in the trees

Well they'd be singing so happily

Oh joyfully, oh playfully watching me

But then they sent me away

To teach me how to be sensible

Logical, oh responsible, practical

And then they showed me a world

Where I could be so dependable

Oh clinical, oh intellectual, cynical

There are times

When all the world's asleep

The questions run too deep

For such a simple man

Won't you please

Please tell me what we've learned

I know it sounds absurd

Please tell me who I am

NUMB - MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS

[That’s when it started to hit me that I had a lot to live up to, being a part of the Addison family. Perfect set-up for Mike to step in]

One track mind like a goldfish

Stuck inside my Petri dish

I can't breathe and I can't smile

This better be worth my while

I feel numb most of the time

The lower I get the higher I'll climb

And I will wonder why

I got dark only to shine

Looking for the golden light

Oh, it's a reasonable sacrifice

Burn, burn, burn bright

Forego families, forego friends

It's how it started, how it ends

I can't open up and cry

'Cause I've been silent all my life

JUST LIKE YOU - THREE DAYS GRACE

[ all the accusations I threw back at my brothers and sister before breaking with them ]

I could be mean

I could be angry

You know I could be just like you

I could be fake

I could be stupid

You know I could be just like you

You thought you were standing beside me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

You thought you were there to guide me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

I could be cold

I could be ruthless

You know I could be just like you

I could be weak

I could be senseless

You know I could be just like you

On my own, cause I can't take living with you

I'm alone, so I won't turn out like you

Want me to

You thought you were standing beside me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

You thought you were there to guide me

You were only in my way

You're wrong if you think that I'll be just like you

THE SANITY ASSASSIN - BAUHAUS

[Mike and all his lies. Hindsight’s 20/20, huh?]

Sinister echoes clutching at straws

Letter boxes screaming

You try to pin him to the wall

You end up on the ceiling

Locked in a dome

The shadows flicker by

He's the madcap pusher

Delirium the drug he's dealing

You empty yourself once again

But he's always one step ahead

He whispers in your ear

was it nothing that you said

He's walking in your sleep now

He keeps your fat paranoia well-fed

The sanity assassin

Stays up all night stalking

The sanity assassin

Picks off victims like flies

The sanity assassin

Let his fingers do the walking

He drops a capsule in your drink

And spikes your dreams with madness

I GOT YOU - SPLIT ENZ

[Deluding myself that Mike actually gave a damn about me]

I got you - and that's all I want

I won't forget - that's a whole lot

I don't go out - not now that you're in

Sometimes we shout - but that's no problem

Look at you - you're a pageant

You're everything - that I've imagined

Something's wrong - I feel uneasy

Reassure me - tell me you're not teasing

There's no doubt - not when I'm with you

When I'm without - I stay in my room

Where do you go - I get no answer

You're always out - it gets on my nerves

I don't know why sometimes I get frightened

You can see my eyes, you can tell that I'm not lying

But I don't know why sometimes I get frightened

You can see my eyes, can you tell me you're not lyin'

WHAT DO ALL THE PEOPLE KNOW? - THE MONROES

[The year of the trade show circuit]

You know I told you once tonight

That you could always speak your mind

You work so hard to say what's right

I watch you do it all the time

And when I called you on the phone

You said that I could be the one

But here I'm standing all alone

And you're out lying in the sun

Tell me, am I getting in too deep?

Every night I'm talking in my sleep

Lately I’ve been so confused

I really don't know what to do

Could you be the one I'm thinking of?

Could you be the one I really love?

All the people tell me so

But what do all the people know?

Maybe we're just holding on

To something that'll soon be gone

Do you think I'm blind to what you do?

Do you think I really care for you?

Do you think that we both should let it show?

Do you think that we both should let it go?

Or is it just another game that you and I pretend to play?

All the people tell me so

But what do all the people know?

UNKNOWN SOLDIER - BREAKING BENJAMIN

[Being lost in my own mind at the Pandora Palace for however long that was after the trade show circuit ended. I’m never going to get that time back.]

Border line,

Dead inside.

I don't mind,

Falling to pieces.

Count me in, violent

Let's begin, feeding the sickness.

How do I simplify,

Dislocate - the enemy's on the way.

Full of fear,

Ever clear.

I'll be here,

Fighting forever.

Curious,

Venomous,

You'll find me

Climbing to heaven.

Never mind,

Turn back time.

You'll be fine - I will get left behind.

It only hurts just once.

They're only broken bones.

Hide the hate inside.

Show me what it's like

To dream in black and white,

So I can leave this world tonight.

RUSTED FROM THE RAIN - BILLY TALENT

[life on the streets after he threw me away]

You hung me like a picture/Now I'm just a frame

I used to be your lapdog/Now I'm just a stray

Shackled in the graveyard/Left here to decay

DEATH ON TWO LEGS - QUEEN

[Finally starting to blame Mike rather than myself, during that second homeless winter just before Ballew found me]

You suck my blood like a leech

You break the law and you breach

Screw my brain 'til it hurts

You've taken all my money

And you want more

Misguided old mule with your pigheaded rules

With your narrow minded cronies

Who are fools of the first division

Talk like a big business tycoon

You're just a hot air balloon

So no one gives you a damn

You're just an overgrown schoolboy

Let me tan your hide

A dog with disease

You're the king of the sleaze

Put your money where your mouth is, Mister Know-All

Was the fin on your back

Part of the deal? (Shark)

Death on two legs

Tearing me apart

Death on two legs

You never had a heart (you never did)

Of your own (right from the start)

Insane, should be put inside

You're a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride

Should be made unemployed

Then make yourself null and void

Make me feel good (I feel good)

[The first therapist I saw on Dr. George’s advice told me to start writing letters to my old Big Shot self as though they were a separate person, so that’s the last three songs. Maybe I’ll get closure, some day.]

PAID IN FULL - SONATA ARCTICA

It's hard for me to love myself right now,

I've waited, hated, blamed it all on you...

It's hard for me to love your face right now

I'm waiting, hating, needing being

Me...

I need you...less and less...

Every day leads us farther away...

From that moment

It’s hard for me to hate myself right now

Finally I'm understanding me

SUNSHINE - BARENAKED LADIES

Most of us, have learned to trust

What we see with our own eyes

But with blinders on you hardly realize

That out of view, it's still true

Even when no one's around

We can stumble and fall down

It's just as well, It's hard to tell

Cause my hindsight's crystal clear

But the view from then's not like the view from here

If you are passed through a looking glass

The important parts appear

But the details start to smear

I ran fast, but I came last

'Cause although I set the pace

It was rigged from the start that I'd lose this race

Sunshine burns your skin

Sometimes the things we love so much just eat us up from the outside in

Oceans blue will drown

I could find a way to live with your ghost but I won't be happy till I leave this town.

GOODBYE TO YOU - SCANDAL

Those times I waited for you seem so long ago

I wanted you far too much to ever let you go

You know you never got by your fear to choose

And I guess I never could stand to lose

It's such a pity to say

Goodbye to you

How could I have loved someone like the one I see in you

I remember the good times baby now, and the bad times too

These last few weeks of holding on

The days are dull, the nights are long

Guess it's better to say

Goodbye to you

'Cause baby it's over now

No need to talk about it

It's not the same

My love for you's just not the same

And my heart, and my heart

And my heart can't stand the strain

And my love, and my love

And my love won't stand the pain

Goodbye baby

So long darling

Goodbye to you

Spamton nodded at T.M. about halfway through Patti Smith’s final chorus, letting her know that he was getting ready for his talkback. She nodded back and cued up “Solsbury Hill” and “Scarecrow’s Dream” for him, as well as digging up an advertisement for Janovic Express to play at the quarter of the hour.

Swatch dug out the painted signboard they’d made and held it up wordlessly so that Spamton could see it.

You Are Loved. And You Are Stronger Than You Know. Never Forget That.

Spamton blew Swatch a silent kiss in return.

Swatch left a few minutes later to go do their shift. T.M. stayed another half-hour and then slipped Spamton a note telling him to meet her down at Plato’s Cave.

There were plenty of spots open at the bar, but the one in the dead center of the ten or so stools was taken up by a reddish-haired stranger who looked like Sid the Sloth from ICE AGE. And he was following Swatch’s every move with his bugged-out eyes.

T.M. thought of Spamton’s bird-masked buff butlers in corsets and giggled to herself, picturing Swatch in that kind of outfit. This had to be that freshman who Swatch said was a fixture on Wednesday nights. How the kid had figured out that her bestie was on duty tonight, she didn’t have a clue, but she got the devilish urge to mess with the guy’s mind a little.

She sat herself down at the farthest end of the bar and put her purse on the seat beside her to reserve it. When Swatch came over to take her order, she whispered, “When Spamton gets here, give him the old ‘your usual, sir?’ routine. And then follow my lead.”

Swatch caught on swiftly and gave her a wink while asking in their clearly audible customer service voice, “May I suggest a Blue Moon for the young lady?”

“Oooooh, that sounds yummy,” T.M. squealed in her best imitation of some of the airheads she had loathed in high school.

“Very good. I’m certain you won’t be disappointed.” Swatch moved away to get her a bottle and a glass.

Blue Moon was a fruitier beer than she usually drank, but it had the benefit of being known for putting lightweights under the table.

T.M. was no lightweight, but she was a fantastic actress.

The things we do for love , she thought to herself.

________

Spamton hit the switch for the cold open after his final talkback, unhooked the vocoder, hung up his headphones, and queued up the next few selections for segue for the DJ who would be following him.

It seemed to him that time was moving both at a snail's pace and in the blink of an eye. The past few weeks had established a new status quo in his life and had brought about changes that were cementing the groundwork of his partners' lives.

Partners, plural.

He still had to grin and hug himself at the thought of having partners. Equal partners. No bloody power imbalance. No secrets. No head games. No possessiveness. No jealousy.

The new love didn't outshine the old. He didn't love Swatch any less now that he had Trez to love as well.

His heart sank, though, as he crossed the floor of Plato’s Cave and saw Kirov Rouvin seated at the bar. He was obviously trying to engage Swatch in flirtatious banter while Swatch was trying to juggle drinks and food orders for several other customers.

Including bringing another bottle of beer to one very familiar girl with golden contact lenses and blue tips at the ends of her hair. They put it down in front of her and said in an unnecessarily loud voice, “I’m afraid I will need to cut you off after this one, miss.”

Was T.M. drunk? He hurried over to the seat beside her and looked anxiously into her face.

She tittered at Swatch’s comment, and then turned to face Spamton, her eyes stone cold sober while she grinned inanely.

Ah.

Not sure what’s going on here, but I’ll play my part.

He pulled himself up onto the barstool, pretending to ignore T.M. and waiting for Swatch to approach him, in the meantime keeping an eye on Kirov. The young Chechen had yet to see Spamton, since Kirov’s eyes were fixed on Swatch.

Swatch finally finished with their flurry of transactions and came over to Spamton. “The usual, my good man?” they asked him, the mellifluousness in their voice turned up to eleven.

Feeling like a celluloid hero, he replied, “Yes, indeed!”

And Swatch leaned over the bar and kissed Spamton on the forehead.

Applause broke out from the tables behind him and seemed to rouse T.M. from her state of faux -inebriation. “Hey, I wan’ some of that,” she slurred, standing up.

Kirov’s face was red and his eyes were narrowed into angry slits. Spamton sighed to himself and thought, might as well go for broke.

“It’s constitutionally impossible for me to refuse a lady.” He extended a hand to T.M. in the time-honored fashion of asking someone to dance, and she placed her hand.in his, not forgetting to loop her purse over her wrist. Clasping her around the waist, he began to circle her around the floor while crooning the song that came to mind when he saw the empty bottle on the bar.

Blue moon

You saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

Blue moon

You knew just what I was there for

You heard me saying a prayer for

Someone I really could care for

The impromptu waltz had them near enough to the doors to make a dramatic exit. Spamton called over T.M.’s shoulder to Swatch, “I’m going make sure this dolly gets home in one piece. See you there, sweetie?”

“Sure thing, darling," Swatch replied.

The wolf whistles and catcalls were cut off as the heavy oaken doors closed behind them.

Once outside, T.M. immediately shed her drunken lolling posture. “God, that was fun. And hopefully that stops any more workplace harassment for Swatch.”

“You are br-brilliant as well as b-b-b-beautiful.”

Now that he no longer had to channel both Cary Grant and Fred Astaire at the same time, Spamton was feeling the adrenaline that had sustained him all night starting to drain away. It was good to see with his own eyes that Swatch hadn’t been exaggerating Kirov’s increasing creepiness, and T.M.’s little maneuver was better than anything he could have come up with.

T.M. noticed the change in his mood and asked, “Are you going to be able to relax after all this?”

He took a minute to think about it so that he could answer her honestly. “N-not right away, no.”

“Do you trust me?”

He didn’t even have to think for a second. “Yes.”

“Come with me, then. I’ll text Swatchy so that they don’t wait up and worry.”

TO: BIRDMAN

FROM: MOGGY

taking spamton to the invisible castle

FROM: BIRDMAN

TO: MOGGY

See you both in the morning. Be safe.

#deltarune #deltarune fanfiction #sylph writes #swatchton #spammanager #tasqueton #college au #fic: call signs #songfic #i have amvs in my head pity i can't draw

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