#wand curler

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[lcriedlastnight]

Y/n thinks Lando wants nothing to do with her so she goes on a date with someone else and Lando angrily comes to crash it

amazing idea! thanks for your request anon! also i listened to this song while i wrote this and i think it goes so well!

tw: fem!reader, swears, miscommunication i think, idk lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.7k

"this is actually exciting! how long as it been since you've been on a date?" your friend asks as she curls a piece of your soft hair around her hair curler. you shrug, a little embarrassed at how long it has been since someone had asked you out. you had invited your best friend to come over and help you get ready. it was some guy called jamie that had asked you out and you were almost certain he was an engineer in the mclaren garage.

so when you both hear a knock at the door two hours before he was supposed to pick you up, you are both in a tizzy. your friend almost burned your neck with the scorching hot curling wand. you throw the nearest thing you can find over the top of your - quite revealing- top. it happens to be a black t-shirt lando had left at yours the last time he had stayed over.

the british driver was the sole reason why you had never been on a date with a guy for a whole two years. you had been friends since his f1 debut but just shy of a year ago, things progressed between the two of you. lando had gotten second in his home race and he was over the moon. you had finally been able to make it to the race, your work schedule finally clearing up in your favour for the first time in a while. to make an incredibly long and complex story short, you had ended up friends with benefits. your agreement had lasted up until last week. the rules were you two had to end things before seeing anyone else but you were to stay friends no matter what and of course, lando had found some girl he wanted to take out so he broke things off. it broke you. you knew falling for lando was a stupid thing to do and you really did try not to but it was difficult, he was lando, he was one of your best friends for a reason. so when jamie asked you out, you had jumped at the chance to try and get over your curly haired best friend.

you open the door to see none other than lando on the opposite side.

"hey, you look good, where you going?" he asks as he walks past you and into your apartment. you roll your eyes at him letting himself in. what was even the point of knocking in the first place?

"she's got a date and we're in the middle of getting ready right now." your friend sasses lando as she emerges from your room, her 'getting ready' playlist, as she had dubbed it, was still blaring in the room. lando looks up at you from his spot on your couch. his eyes narrow.

"a date?" the boy questions. you furrow your brows, unsure at what he is trying to get at.

"yes. a date. you know, like the one you went on last week? one of those." your a little teasing as you throw your words at him. lando rolls his eyes.

"yeah yeah i know what a date is, i'm just confused. i didn't know you were looking to date?" lando says and you were probably making it up but you swore you could sense some hurt in his voice. yeah there was no way that lando was hurt that you were going on a date, he had literally done the same thing and broken it off with you to do so, last week!

"i'm not looking to date. i got asked out and i said yes." you explain even though you don't really need to explain yourself. lando didn't with you.

"you never say yes. who asked you out?" lando interrogates you, it annoyed you to no end.

"does it really matter? i think he's nice. i never asked you all these questions when you went out on your date last week, did i?" you roll your eyes, walking back over to your friend, silently letting her know you wanted to go back through to your room to get ready and to fet away from lando. you don't wait to listen to see if lando responds - he doesn't anyway, keeping quiet. he knew you were right. it was wrong to act like this, to act jealous of this guy, not when you guys weren't even serious. not that you seen it that way. to you, lando was just being protective.

you sit back down with a sigh, while your friend returns to curling your hair. your friend tries to distract you from whatever just happened with lando as you turn the music up and try to get excited for your date. it gets a little hard when there is a lull in the conversation between the two of you and your mind starts working overtime. you start to wonder if lando would even want anything to do with you after him and this girl get closer. you have always dreaded the day one of lando's girlfriends would want you two to create some distance between you both. you had a sneaky feeling that it would be sooner rather than later.

the timing is perfect as you hear several knocks at your door just as your spraying your favourite gucci perfume lando had gotten you from christmas. even going on a date with someone else, lando was with you the whole time. you answer the door with a smile on your face, jamie returning it.

your friend and lando are sat on your couch watching a random show lando had put on while waiting for you to get ready. he did want to apologise but your date was here and he would rather do it just the two of you anyway. when the brunette seen it was one of the mclaren engineers, he feels the anger swell up inside of him. that should be him, lando had finally realised in that moment, lightbulb lighting up in his brain.

you go off with jamie, his arm interlocked with yours. he takes you to some fancy restaurant not too far away. he talks the full time about his job as an engineer and how exciting it was moving from race to race with the mclaren drivers. he babbles on and on about how he has been interested in motorsports since he was a child and how working with an actual formula one team had been his dream since forever. all the guy spoke about was himself. not once asking you about yourself or your own job. you had tried to get a word in but it was difficult when he just did not stop talking about himself since you both had sat down. the only time he was not talking was when his mouth was full of food.

you had gotten maybe halfway through your main course before you hear heavy footsteps heading towards your general direction. jamie is still talking away about how he got his degree and how amazing school was for him like you were actually listening and if he even spared a glance in your direction then he would be able to tell by your face that absolutely were not, in any way shape or form, listening. you probably had not even taken a word in since before the starters.

the footsteps get closer until they stop at your table. you look up and your eyes meet lando's furious ones. you were confused as to why he was angry but you were sure you were both (and maybe the entire restaurant) were about to find out.

"what the fuck are you doing?" lando asks you. this finally made jamie stop talking. you could kiss lando for many different reasons, the main one being he looked hot when he was angry.

"me? what am i doing?" you ask. lando nods his head. "i'm on my date. the one i said i was going on."

lando scoffs. "with one of my engineers? you're doing this to get back at me for ending things." lando straight up accuses you. you gasp up at him, dumbfounded. this causes jamie to speak up again and ask "you two were a thing? i didn't know," he looks at lando "seriously, man i didn't know, she didn't say anything. if i knew i would never have asked her out."

lando just stares at the man. his hand then digs into his pocked and fishes out his wallet, throws cash down on the table, grabs your hand pulling you out of your chair and drags you out the restaurant. once outside and away from anyone, you pull your hand out of his grasp.

"what are you doing? i told you i was going on a date! you have no right to act like this!" you shout at him, finger pointing at him.

lando's eyes roll. "yeah but you didn't mention it was with someone i work with. you are clearly trying to get back at me for going on a date with that girl and ending things with you." lando accuses you again.

"how is that me getting back at you? i already told you i don't care who you want to date. kiss who you want i couldn't care less." you lie straight to his face and lando can tell straight away. instead of arguing about it with you though. he mumbles "i wanna kiss you." then pushes you against the brick wall, gently before his lips are attacking yours. he leaves little nips and bites as he kisses you harshly. letting a bit of his frustrations because of the lost time between the two of you, out in the kiss. you kiss back just and hard. your hands clutch at his shirt as he holds your hips in place against the wall. lando pulls away panting, his forehead resting on yours.

"m'so sorry. i couldn't stand the thought of you with someone else. then i realised that's probably how you felt with me too, then i just had to see you and stop you from spending anymore time with him." lando explains, a little guilty. you smile as you let your hand come up to stroke his eyebrow gently.

"he was a fucking bore anyways." you tell lando who laughs as he leans in for another kiss.

[watchmegetobsessed]

NIGHT OUT

A/N: i was in the mood for some fluff all weekend so this is what i came up with at last.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: You're getting ready for a girls' night out and Harry joins you in the bathroom in the process, mesmerized with everything you do.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Stepping out of the steamy shower you wrap a soft, fluffy towel around your body and walk over to the double vanity. The mirror has fogged up, so you wipe off a section with your hand before deciding to open the door so the room could cool down faster.

While waiting for the steam to escape the bathroom you’re rummaging through your makeup collection, trying to decide what look you should go for tonight. It’s a girls’ night, you’ve planned it out weeks ahead, because it’s always impossible to get four girls under one roof with such hectic schedules. You’re gonna have some drinks, maybe some tapas and gossip for hours, discuss everything that’s happened since the last time you saw each other, which was after Christmas, so there’s a lot to share.

You hear the familiar sound of a pair of feet wandering into the room before you see the person they belong to. Harry comes into your view, leaning against the vanity as you shut the makeup drawer once you’ve collected everything from it. He is wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple, white t-shirt that’s slightly see through, so you catch sight of the outline of his tattoos here and there when you look at him. He looks so cozy, his hair a bit messy from lounging in bed all afternoon with you, his face looks relaxed, a slight stubble forming from not shaving in the past couple of days.

“If you need to use the bathroom go to the one downstairs, it’s my turn in here,” you tease him, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

“Just wanna watch you get ready. Can I?”

“Sure,” you chuckle softly.

He hops onto the counter and watches you curiously as you start applying your skincare product before the makeup.

“What’s that?”

“Why are you doing that?”

“What is that doing?”

He keeps asking and you explain everything to him while your eyes keep moving between your reflection in the mirror and his handsome face.

“Wanna try some?” you ask, when you’re applying your moisturizer and when he nods you pump some more into your hands, rub them together and stepping closer to him you start massaging it into his face. He closes his eyes, humming gently as you work your fingers over every crease, freckle and corner of his face.

“There, you look all dewy and moist,” you smirk at him when you’re done. He turns around and inspects himself in the mirror.

“Fabulous.”

You start doing your makeup then and Harry keeps examining every step as if he would have to write a test about it later.

“What?” you ask, when he hasn’t said a word in a long time.

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “You look beautiful.”

“I’m not done yet,” you smile shyly, heat crawling up your neck. Even after three years of dating you’re still not immune to his compliments he keeps dropping every single day.

“Doesn’t matter, you still look beautiful.”

Chuckling shortly you just keep on working on your eyeshadow while he starts looking through the products scattered over the counter. When it’s time to curl your eyelashes he watches you intently, as if it was something sent straight from the aliens.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” he asks, eyebrows pulled together in a worried look.

“Nope.”

“Looks like it hurts.”

“It doesn’t. Wanna try?”

“Hell no, I like being not blind.”

You laugh at his resistance and move on with applying mascara that he finds more fascinating than the curler.

“Can I do that for you?”

“Just please don’t make me look like a panda,” you smirk as you hand the wand over to him.

He grabs your hip with his free hand and pulls you over so you’re standing between his legs. He gently angles your head and then very slowly and carefully he starts applying it to your lashes. The serious look on his face almost makes you laugh, he looks like as if he was performing surgery. You place your hands to his thighs and follow his instructions when he tells you to look up or down. He is taking a bit longer than you usually do, but at last he is finally finished and you’re surprised to see he did an amazing job as you check yourself out in the mirror.

“You did good, babe.” Leaning closer you kiss his lips shortly before moving on with your makeup.

He asks to do your blush as well and he sprays your face with setting spray at the end. He stays around while you do your hair as well and follows you into the closet as well, helping you with finding a dress to wear.

Once you’re dressed, he chose a simple, but elegant black dress for you, you’re putting on your heels when you notice a pout on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as you step closer and run a hand down the side of his face.

“Do you really need to go?”

“H, we planned this weeks ahead, I can’t just cancel on them.”

“But I will miss you.”

To this day you can’t understand how he can turn into this squishy, sweet little thing and then be an absolute beast other times, of course, only when it’s the right time for that. The look on his face almost makes you drop a text in the group chat that you can’t make it, but you would be the worst friend if you did that and you know Harry is just acting clingy.

“I won’t stay long, okay?” You take his hands between yours and move them to your waist until they move on their own and pull you into his embrace. You let your arms rest on his shoulders, locking your hands behind his head as you melt against his front.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” he mumbles, still acting like a sad baby.

“You don’t have to.”

“I do, I can’t sleep when you’re out without me. And text me when you arrive to the place, okay?”

“Okay,” you smile at his protectiveness before kissing his lips softly, careful not to mess up your lipstick, though he has other plans, because he doesn’t let you pull back, instead he deepens the kiss so when you finally pull away his lips are a dark shade of pink.

“Now I have to touch my lipstick up,” you chuckle, wiping it off of his lips.

“I’ll do it for you,” he volunteers, so you grab the lipstick from your purse and hand it over him, letting him reapply it with so much precision, it looks like just before he kissed it all off.

He walks you out when the Uber arrives and you know he is silently checking if the driver looks like a creep.

“Have fun,” he says as he leans into the car, kissing you shortly one last time before shutting the door. He stands on the pavement and watches you disappear down the street before heading back inside.

You arrive home just a few minutes after midnight, slightly dizzy from the cocktails, but definitely not drunk. When you open the front door you find Harry in front of the TV downstairs, his head shoots up right away when you walk in and by the time you’ve kicked your shoes off he is right there beside you.

“Hey, how was it?” he asks and happily wraps his arms around you when you hug his neck and pull him down for a kiss that tastes sweet from all the cocktails you’ve drunk tonight.

“Great, we had a good time,” you smile at him sleepily. “But I’m really tired,” you sigh, melting into his embrace.

“Then let’s get you to bed,” he chuckles and smacks your butt playfully, which makes you giggle.

“Carry me upstairs?” you give him puppy eyes, knowing well he can’t say no to you.

“Jump,” he simply says and obeying you make a small jump and he catches the back of your thighs, heading upstairs with you.

“Just put me to bed,” you mumble groggily, holding onto his neck, but he shakes his head and entering the master bedroom he goes straight into the bathroom. “No!” you whine. “I’m too tired, I’ll shower in the morning!”

“Don’t have to shower, but let’s at least wash your makeup off.”

He sits you onto the counter, just like he sat earlier in the evening when you were getting ready. Parting your legs he stands between them as he grabs a cotton pad and some micellar water, dabbing it onto the pad he starts to gently rub your makeup off while you just sit there with your eyes closed, letting him do whatever he wants. When he’s done, he takes the pins out of your hair and gently massages your scalp which makes you hum in satisfaction.

Then he stops and when you open your eyes you see him walking out of the bathroom, so you call for him, but he doesn’t answer, just returns a few moments later with a pair of clean panties and one of his old shirts you like to sleep in. He undresses you like you’re a baby and then puts you into the clean clothes before lifting you off the counter and taking you to bed.

“You’re the best,” you mumble, eyes closed as you snuggle to his chest in bed. He gladly pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“You deserve the best, my love,” he softly murmurs against your hair and you hear him say “I love you” just as you drift off to sleep.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[piggyinthesea]

Why Do You Look At Her?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader , Steve Rogers x Reader (implied)

Warnings: smut, smut, smut, hinted love triangle, cursing, hickeys, jealousy, foreplay, hickey kink, slight insecurity (bucky)

Fuck Marry Kill?

-

It was pretty usual of Tony to throw charity parties. It seemed almost routine at this point getting ready for them. The sparkly dresses, make-up usage, and occasionally hair curlers were all things part of the ritual.

“Fuck!” You yelp at the fuming curler wand that scarred your skin with an ugly purple burn with hints of blue on your neck. You knew it was gonna be cliché to have to explain yourself to the others that it was in fact a burn, not a hickey and they most definitely wouldn’t believe an inch of it. You contemplated covering it with makeup, but you weren’t a rookie against heat burns and you knew that would just further damage your skin even more. So be it, if it can’t be helped, it can’t be helped.

Finally done with your hair and makeup, you slipped into your gorgeous sparkly maroon dress. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Skin tight, breasts lifted, and it hugged your curves in all the right places. You were definitely going to thank Tony for this one.

One Hour Later

You finally arrived to the charity, making your way towards the only person you knew there. If only Wanda and Natasha didn’t take so long to get ready.

“You look wonderful, dear. Might just take you from Bucky.” Steve said, pulling himself away from the group he was chatting with prior.

You tilted your head back and let out a chuckle, “Oh stop. You know you love him too much to do that.”

“Why don’t you guys admit you’re together, everybody knows it, and it looks like he’s already gotten to you.” He smirks, glancing at the purple bruise on your neck.

“We’re not like that, and for the record this is a burn, as you can tell by my curls. Doesn’t take a spy to figure out I burned my hair with the curling iron.” Glancing at the tower filled with millionaires, you tried scouring the crowds for a sign of Bucky yet he was no where to be found.

“So what you’re saying is, you’re single?” Pried Steve, subconsciously taking a step closer.

“Is who single?” Said a voice that emerged from the backs of you both.

“Bucky!” You excitedly turn around and give your dear friend a hug. You failed to notice the look Bucky gave to Steve. If Bucky could, he’d hug you back instantly though his hands were occupied by two glasses of pristine champagne. The scent of his strong cologne reminded you of the ocean which you always loved because it reminded you of fond memories when you were a child. When he asked you if he should go for the deep forest or ocean cologne, you picked ocean. It was Tony’s suggestion to come with matching outfits. You with a maroon dress and Bucky with a maroon tuxedo. Maroon definitely suited him.

“I’ll leave you guys alone.” Steve awkwardly says, a cute smile placed on his face as he heads towards Tony and strikes up a conversation.

Bucky hands you a golden champagne glass. It’s contents appeared almost physically sparkly, you knew instantly the champagne would be marvelous. After all, this is a charity held by Tony Stark. Bucky raised his glass to you and the two of you clinked your glasses and took a drink.

“So, you and Steve?” Bucky says, attempting to hint at the obvious closeness of you and Steve, while also indirectly hinting at the evident mark on your neck. Though he was too busy looking anywhere but your face, you scrunched up your face in discontent.

“No, Steve and I aren’t like that. And since I know you’re dying to ask no, this isn’t a hickey. Let’s go to the minibar?” You say, attempting to quickly pass by this conversation. You were not going to have this conversation with Bucky.

He turns, finally giving you a full look. Instinctively, you stepped in front of him, fixing the crooked tie. He looked down at you, watching as you helped straighten his tie out and though it was only for a second, he did not miss the way your eyes sparkled as you looked back up at him.

5 glasses of champagne and 3 margaritas later…

“Okay, Okay. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Steve, Me, and Tony.” Bucky says, so obviously drunk with his slurred words and pale face.

You giggled, “You’re such a child. Okay, Okay, give me a second, my world is spinning. Fuck Steve, Marry You, and dear god please don’t let Tony hear this but, kill Tony.”

“Wow. You would fuck Steve, but not me? I’m truly hurt. I’m gonna go into a deep depression. ” Bucks jokingly, putting his head down attempting to appear ‘depressed’ . “I mean, the guy gets a serum and all of a sudden he’s a big macho man. Well I’ve been the macho man for centuries even before him! Where’s my recognition?” He mumbles into the table.

“But, if we’re married we’d be able to fuck anytime, with Steve it’d just be a one time thing.” You whisper into his ears, almost falling off your seat trying to get closer to him.

“Ah! You’re right. So Steve’s not better than me!” He lifts up his head, his eyes sparkling with victory.

A hoarse voice calls out from behind, “Oh, I am so better than you.”

You turn back at the blue eyed blondie who seems to enjoy hitting into peoples conversations. You’ve taken notice how well his deep navy tux looked on him. You never had any appeal to Rogers but you’d be a fool to not find attractive in his suit. . “I’m heading to the restroom, don’t have to much fun without me.” You say, an overwhelming urge to pee taking over you. Perhaps you had a little too much to drink tonight.

The two men looked as you walked away, carefully admiring the way the dark maroon sequins glistened under the fancy lighting of the tower. They didn’t dare to miss the way your hips swayed with each step almost elegantly. “Why do you stare at her?” Bucky asked with the utmost curiosity and almost hurt expression.

“I don’t stare at her.” Steve looks back at his friend defensively.

“You like her.” Bucky concludes, an urge to hear his friend admit the feelings he so desperately wants to bury. For what reasons? He’s unsure. Maybe to hurt his own feelings.

“I don’t, Bucky. You know I love Peggy. Maybe you’ve had a little too much to drink.” Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh, as he begins to dwell in his own thoughts. He doesn’t like you. His heart belonged belongs to Peggy.

“Alright then. I’m going to my room. Maybe I did have too much to drink.” Unconvinced and irritated, he begins to walk away. That was the last thing Steve wanted him to do. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts.

During the walk to the corridors, he bumps into you. “Oh hey! You heading up? Guess I will too.” You say, noticing the weird expression on his face. Usually you’d be able to read him, but this time he has an expression on his face he hasn’t shown before.

It took about 3 minutes for the elevator to come down and go back up towards the room corridors and the both of you headed towards Bucky’s room. The corridors were filled with different rooms, each of them having a gold plate on the door with a different name. You passed by yours first, then Falcons, and finally you’ve gotten to Bucky’s. It was nothing strange, you’ve been to his room plenty of times. The two of you are almost always watching movies together. You kicked off your heels and mated down on his large and frankly not very comfortable bed. His room was pretty simple, it consisted of a grey headboard bed in the middle, a mahogany night stand by the corner, a drawer with a large mirror, and a restroom that directed into a large marble bathtub with a rainfall shower.

He aimlessly stared into the wall, almost as if something was on his mind. “What’s wrong?” You ask, you’ve never seen him like this and it was beginning to worry you.

He turned to you. His bright blue eyes looked pleading, as if his soul was attempting to reach yours when suddenly he kissed you. Instinctively, you kissed back allowing your tongue to explore his mouth as you positioned yourself on top of him. His hands roamed through your curves, squeezing your waist and coming back up to pull your hair. Within seconds the kiss became heated and your body ached for more. He flipped you under and took off his blazer and collared shirt which revealed his chiseled abs. You felt yourself becoming wetter with each second you stared. Sadly, it was cut short as Bucky began sucking on your neck, careful to not touch the side where you’ve dumbly burned.

You let out a moan, “Please.”

“Please what?” Bucky rasps out, completely hard. The effect you had on him was unlike any other women. You completely and easily had him wrapped around your finger without you knowing it. The moment you helped him out of a dark nightmare that night, he knew he could never let go of you. With each day that had passed where he had not kissed you, a little part of him died. He knew when his best friend caught feelings for Peggy. He definitely knew it too when he saw the way he looked at you earlier.

“Please touch me.” The request was simple, yet a little embarrassing. It was definitely not in your nature to beg. But for Bucky? You’d beg a million times.

It was as if he was possessed by some speed demon because in no time, you were completely out of your dress and almost fully unclothed except for the black lace panties you had on. You tugged on his belt, wanting him to be equally as vulnerable which he obediently took off with his pants. He spread your legs wide, toying with one of your nipples as he inserted a finger in you.

The ache of pleasure in your stomach was overbearing. You wanted to be closer to Bucky. As he began moving his finger’s pace he lightly twisted your nipple, “Why do you talk to Steve so much?” He shamelessly asks, jealousy reeking from him which he had no desire to cover up. Your moans filled the room as he added another finger.

“I don’t.” He twists your nipple slightly harder which earns a louder moan from you. “Please I just want you. Give me all of you.” You pleaded. His fingers were pleasurable but his cock would be so much better.

“Say you don’t want Steve.” He says removing his boxers and finally lining himself at your entrance.

“I don’t want him. I never did. Please just fuck me, Bucky.” Your stomach twirled with anticipation, excitement, and pleasure. Without warning he pushed his whole length into you, and immediately you let a loud almost pornagraphic moan. Your walls stinger with pain and pleasure yet you still wanted more. Bucky began a slow pace quickly turning brutal as his ears filled with your moans. The moans he’s causing.

You pulled his hair as you were chest to chest. Bucky groaned, “Doll, you feel so good. You’re so gorgeous.” He quickened his pace if that was possible, when he felt your nails digging into his back. He began sucking on your breasts, as if he were a starving dog. There would definitely be bruising tomorrow all over your chest. He lowered one of his hands down to your clit and began rubbing the pads of his fingers in circles. A burning hot sensation filled your body, if he continued like this you would be done for.

“B-Bucky. Don’t stop I’m close.” You moaned, the heat suddenly becoming overwhelming. You knew he was close by the way his thrusts began to falter. With a pinch of your clit, you moaned out in pleasure and came on his cock. With a final thrust he came inside you, his cum adding warmth to your walls while leaking out. He collapsed to your side, and you pulled him in for a kiss. You pulled his hair a little, sucked on his neck long enough for there to be a bruise in the morning and finally asked him, “Why’d you bring up Steve?”

“I think he likes you.” He says, not wanting to look back to you. You turned his head, and kissed him again “Guess I’ll just have to explain I like his best friend more.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be back.” He says heading to the restroom inside his room. Shortly after, he came back with a damp cloth in his hand.

-

Notes: So this is my first fan fic, please feel free to leave any suggestions in the comments. If there are any typos please point them out so I can correct them <3

Don’t know if there will be a part 2 buttt let me know if you guys would want one! I feel bad for Steve lol

[waitingonher]

[🪐] track 1: drabbles! ━ send me up to 2 numbers from the prompt list + a character and i'll write a little drabble!

hiii!! could I ask for prompt number 14 and 18 for Leo Valdez? congrats for 100 followers !! deserved!

EMMY'S 100 EVENT CELEBRATION

leo valdez + you look pretty + oh, you wanna kiss me so bad!

content warning: nothing

authors note: HI THANK YOU SM! the end is lowkey bad but rauhuadslsd

you very skillfully apply your mascara onto your lashes, wiggling the wand in specific ways in order to achieve your desired look. after years and years of refining your makeup routine, nothing can get in your way of a perfect mascaraed-lash. well, nothing maybe except for your boyfriend’s laughable antics. 

looking in your mirror, you make eye contact with leo, who’s somehow decided that your eyelash curler belongs on the tip of his nose, “babe, that’s for your lashes,” you laugh, beginning to work on your other eye. 

leo quirks a brow at the tool before setting it back into your makeup bag. looking back at you in the mirror, he continues to observe your routine in silence, his eyes never once leaving your own, “you look pretty, y/n.” 

you let out a chuckle at his sudden comment, “oh, you wanna kiss me so bad!” maybe a joke would be able to hide your bashfulness, because despite how long you two have been dating, accepting compliments from leo has never come easy. 

“and what if i do?” he replies smoothly, a grin on his face. 

you attempt to bite back a smile, attempting to not show how flustered you are, but leo knows you all too well. rescrewing the wand into the tube, you hurriedly place it into your bag before turning around to face leo, “then hurry up and do it,” you quip. 

your boyfriend emits an amused huff as he adjusts his position to be closer to you. grabbing your chin between his index and thumb, and with the other hand on your shoulder, leo pulls you in for a kiss. it’s short and sweet. and now, maybe you don’t mind him getting in the way of your routine if it means sharing kisses with him like this.

[rosewaterandivy]

Part 4. all fired up

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by Trouble instead, depictions of drinking & drinking games, cursing, Eddie being shockingly graceful, and laundry room confessions

A/N: Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance. Here’s 3.8K of multi-perspective tension, sexual and otherwise, and timeline fuckery; feedback and reblogs are appreciated, enjoy!

series masterlist | playlist

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Now - Spring break, March

Steve asking you to move into the loft was the last thing you’d expected. Not that the house hunt had been going so hot, to be fair. And you found yourself back on the couch of 4B more often than not. 

He’d broached the topic with you a few weeks ago before school started. Seated at your desk and hastily applying your makeup using the mirror from a compact. Steve hung out with you most mornings before first period, shooting the shit and gossiping about students. Eddie and Robin would join you when they could, but usually it was just the two of you.

“Are we aligned for quarter 3?” You ask, attempting to curl your eyelashes without pinching yourself. “I’m doing Night just as you roll into WWII with AP World, yeah?”

Steve nods, “Right, we have the field trip to the Holocaust Memorial Museum before spring break, so that tracks.”

“Good,” you swipe mascara through your lashes. “We should send out the permission slips this week then. I’ll send out an email to parents if they wanna volunteer as chaperones.”

He goes quiet, as if he’s lost in thought while you begin the same meticulous process with your other eye. 

“Y’know Nance is moving out soon,” he says casually, his loafer toeing the tile on the floor. “Her and Jonathan finally found a place; she’s thinking she’ll be out in time for spring break.”

“Ugh, finally,” you comment, setting the lash curler down. “Thought the day would never come.”

He laughs at your flippant response, watching as you continue your routine. And just as you were going to consider your makeup application for the day ‘mission accomplished,’ Steve says, “The room’s yours, if you want it.”

Shocked, you nearly stab yourself in the eye with the mascara wand, tears beading at your lash line, “Fuck!” 

Dropping the wand and compact, you screw your eye shut in pain thus ruining your mascara. May as well accept you’d walk around looking like a raccoon again. It’d be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

“Are you okay?”

“Considering that I nearly put my own eye out? Yeah, I’m just peachy.”

He cringes watching as you blink, “Sorry, that was probably my bad.”

“How,” you laugh, pain dissipating slightly, “I don’t recall asking you to do my makeup today.”

“No,” he huffs, “I mean with the whole asking you to move in thing. Shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

Surveying the damage in the mirror, you admit defeat and grab for the makeup removing towelettes. “Mmhm, really missed an opportunity to wine and dine me there, big guy.”

The joke lands like a lead balloon. Ba dum tss!

You scrub the towelette across your face, paying special attention to your overly mascara’d eye, and pop open your moisturizer. “It’s not a big deal Steve, and you’re not wrong to bring it up.”

“Yeah, how you figure?”

Your shrug dotting on your moisturizer, “Solves two problems, doesn’t it? You need a roommate and I need a place to live.” 

He stays quiet as you finish your ablutions, omitting the fact that they don’t necessarily need another roommate to make rent since his trust fund kicked in. But then again, Eddie and Robin don’t know that either.

“I guess,” he says, checking his watch. “Well, no pressure, either way. But I gotta bounce, I have hall duty.”

“Sure,” your voice is a clip as you zip the makeup bag shut, “See ya later.”

He gives you a small smile and wave as he leaves. The door closes behind him; the silence left in his absence deafening.

“It’s too soon, Nance,” Robin says, voice a crackle in the slow, calm of the morning. 

Nancy considers her words, taking a sip of coffee from her travel mug. And true, Robin knows Steve well and is understandably protective over him. But Nancy knows you and Steve, and that you’re both chickenshit.

“Maybe so,” she breathes, eyes glancing out the window and settling on Steve helping you to unload a few boxes from your car. A half-hearted shrug, “But then again, maybe not.”

She had made quick work of moving out, room packed in an orderly fashion and boxes labeled appropriately. The moving company arrived promptly and Nancy had successfully moved out of the loft before you had arrived that morning.

Jonathan and Argyle would meet the movers at the house, and she’d head out then. For now, she observed the debacle unfolding on the street outside of the loft. You had packed your car in typical fashion, which was …chaotic, to say the least. When you and Steve couldn’t free a box wedged against the window of the backseat, you hollered from the street for Eddie until he woke up.

Understandably pissed, he trudged out of the loft in his sweatpants and a crop top that had to have been Robin’s at one point (a goldenrod yellow shirt with red text reading ‘Lasagna Del Rey’), muttering something about you being a dumbass. And now, Steve and Eddie eyed the boxes warily, debating how best to wrest them from the backseat and trunk.

“Sup, bitches?” You greet, having successfully snuck away from the boys downstairs, and drop your purse and a box by the door. “Ooh, are the girls fighting yet?” 

Joining them at the window, you spy Steve yelling something at Eddie, who has taken it upon himself to open the sunroof of your car, thinking that the best way to unload the ridiculous amount of boxes in the backseat. He’s laid himself partially out on the roof and trunk, shoving an arm in through the opening, like a human claw machine.

“For fuck’s sake,” Nancy says with a shake of her head, “They don’t have a brain cell to rub together between to two of them.”

Robin snorts, phone out and already recording for posterity’s sake. “You can say that again.”

The boys, only somewhat successful in unpacking the car, badger the group of you in the loft until you’re annoyed enough to come downstairs and help. By the time the movers had arrived and placed the furniture in your new bedroom, your car had been unpacked, boxes organized by Nancy in the kitchen for the time being.

“The end of an era,” you say, hugging her goodbye. “Can’t believe the great Nancy Wheeler is shipping out to war.”

Robin and Eddie laugh from the living room, where they’re currently preoccupied laying out beers some semblance of a shape, a bottle of whiskey at the center of the coffee table.

She hits your shoulder playfully, “It won’t be that bad,” she tells you, “S’not like I’m dying over here.”

“Sorry, what was that?” You turn to Steve, stubbornly ignoring her presence, “I swear, it’s like she’s in the room with us.”

“Spooky,” Robin agrees, with a waggle of her brows, “I can’t remember the last time I saw Nancy Wheeler.”

She scoffs behind you, “Okay punks, I can take a hint,” and places her key on the counter. 

Steve pulls her into a bearhug and says, “Oh, y’think you’re getting out of here without a rematch?”

Nancy pushes back, eyeing him warily. “You wanna go toe to toe with the reigning champ?” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” you cut in, strolling casually to the living room and catching the beer Eddie tosses your way. “We’re all adults here.” Your voice is eerily calm and reserved, “We can do this with dignity, self-restraint, and, dare I say, honor.”

Robin grins, “The name of the game is True American,” tosses two beers Steve’s way.

Eddie counts it down, “One, two, three, four. JFK!”

“FDR!” is chorused in return. 

Beers are cracked open and shotgunned with abandon.

“Steve, you’re in the lava!” you shout from your perch on the dining table, “Get outta there man.”

He stops drinking his beer and looks at you, puzzled, “I thought this was Nancy Reagan’s gun closet.”

“George Washington, Abe Lincoln,” Eddie croons, as you reach out to haul Steve on the table with you.

“Cherry tree!”

Robin whistles, swaying precariously on the windowsill, “All right Americans, ya ready? Let’s do the count.”

“One, two, three.”

You slap the back of your hand to your forehead, one finger raised and inspect everyone else’s numbers; Nance and Robin both had threes, while Eddie came at a close second with a two, Steve was dead last with a four. 

Squinting, you smile and call out, “That’s me!” Moving unilaterally from the tabletop and stepping across a chair and stool to take your new position.

Steadying yourself on the countertop, you signal for their attention. “The only thing we have to fear–”

“Is fear itself!” they call back in response, “Drink!”

_

An hour or so later finds you several beers in and slung across Eddie’s back in a piggyback ride as he steps precariously across blankets and pillows.

“Jimmy Carter atop Grover Cleveland,” you say softly as he takes his turn, well both your turns since it’s turned into a team game now.  

He stops and looks from left to right, “What now?”

Untangling an arm from where you’d wrapped it around his shoulders, you point to the right. “Over here.”

“Huh,” he grunts swaying slightly, “M’over here,” and moves another space to the right.

“I gotta get to the castle!” Nancy yells, hopping toward the coffee table with the help of an overturned barstool.

“Go, Nance, go!” you cheer her on, safely deposited on an armchair near the couch.

“JFK!”

“FDR,” you chant, taking another swig of beer, watching as Steve and Robin intertwine arms to pour beer into the other’s mouth. Most of Seve’s spilling out and onto his shirt as Robin laughs.

_

“Y’know,” Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair, “You’re pretty good at this Nance.”

She smiles, toasts him with her beer can, and takes a bow.

He thumbs his lip, eyes glinting dangerously. 

“But not good enough.”

Slowly, you meandered from the armchair to the coffee table while Steve was distracted and grab the handle of whisky; check mate. You wave to Eddie from where he’s stood next to Steve. 

“D-does this–” he blinks at you, dazed.

Steve turns quickly from Eddie to you and back again. “What–No!”

“Is it–” Eddie continues, treading carefully across the floor to the coffee table. “This means we win?!”

“Yes,” you crow loudly, “This means we won! Suck it Steve–who’s the King now!?” 

Eddie picks you up and swings you around in victory chanting, “U.S.A., U.S.A.!” Your bright laughter rings out amidst Steve’s groans of defeat. 

The next morning finds you all piled on your bed, groaning as the spring sun lances through the windows. Your brain is mush, leaking from your ears it feels like. You turn to get out of bed, cursing the sloshing of your stomach. Still reeling from your celebration after winning True American, you flop on the floor with an audible thunk and belly crawl toward the door.

“You okay?” a low rasp, followed by the rustling of sheets.

You grunt as someone scoops you from the floor, dragging you upwards. Body limp as a ragdoll’s you allow yourself to be carried out of the room, hazarding a glance behind to see Robin, Nancy, and Eddie still passed out on the bed.

Mmm, must be Steve then. 

He was always quick to rally after nights spent barhopping in college, kept his liquor better than you ever could. Hands scrabbling for something to hold on to, you settle for the threadbare fabric of his shirt. He shifts you in his grasp, readjusting the grip he has on you and sighs.

“You’re…freakishly…quiet,” he whispers as he deposits you on the couch, leaning forward to get a better look at you, hair falling in his face. 

Batting your hand at him blearily, you burrow down into the couch hugging a pillow for good measure. Steve leaves you, starting the coffeemaker in the kitchen and mumbling about the moving boxes cluttering the counters.

“Everything is shit.” You whine, “Fucking True American… Fucking whiskey. My bones hurt. I feel like I’m dying. My sweat is sweating. Did I even fall asleep in my own bedroom?”

Steve snorts because at least he wasn’t that sloppy. He doesn’t remember a lot from last night, but something like clarity returns to him, a chorus of cheers and something being tossed. “Was that before or after you took off your panties?”

You whimper and bury your forehead into the pillow beneath you, cheeks coloring in embarrassment. “You remember that? S’last time I rock a lace thong, felt like my ass was eating it.”

He shuts his eyes at the image, tries not comment on anything involving your ass. Instead he asks, “So how do we want the coffee this morning? Regular strength or trying to vibrate yourself out of existence?”

“Jus’ wanna feel normal again. Remember? Bones hurt.”

Steve hums in the affirmative, pouring the coffee into two mugs and adding a splash of creamer to one. He pads over to you, sets both mugs on the table and lets you choose. Opting for the black coffee, you take a bitter sip hoping to feel something other than remorse.

“Mmm, s’gonna be that kinda day I see.”

“All due respect, which is none,” you grouse, “You can fuck all the way off, Steve.”

He sputters the next mouthful at your response, and it catches in his nose, makes him choke and cough all over the coffee table. You suddenly follow suit, except it’s on your own spit and the two of you look like complete morons to Eddie, who is sauntering in, completely fine.

“Told you to lay off the whiskey last night, Trouble,” he says reproachingly. He pauses by the hallway entrance before walking out into the living room, stepping on the back of the armchair with the grace of a prima ballerina. You and Steve gape at how he balances on the back of it, reaching up toward the ceiling.

With a thump he lands back down, arm pulling back before a tiny purple thong quietly smacks Steve in the face.

“What the fuck!?” You shove Steve off of the couch in a poor effort to retrieve your unmentionables. He grunts and shakes it loose, one hand pushing your face back as the other grips your thong. He opens his mouth to cuss out Eddie but the look on his face shuts you both up.

Eddie looks like a dog with a bone. The cat who caught the canary. Smug and casual as he leans against the counter, arms crossed as he looks from your pink face to Steve’s, to the triangle of fabric in your hand. Eddie waggles his brows, sucks on his teeth, and grins– shit-eatingly proud.

“Thought you’d want those back, Stevie. You’re the one who took ’em off her last night.”

The rest of the day slips by lazily. Jonathan collecting Nancy around noon or so, offended at having missed a rousing game of True American. They say their goodbyes and head off to the new house, leaving the rest of you to clean up from last night and unpack the boxes in the kitchen.

Steve is trying to do laundry. He prefers to do it himself, though Robin always offers to throw it in with her stuff. That’s fine though, he’s got a system, one he’s perfected over years of uninterrupted Sundays doing laundry. 

Anyway, he’s trying to do laundry when you saunter in.

On top of an empty dryer, you swing your legs uselessly. “Harrington,” you instruct seriously, “Don’t put the red sock in with the white stuff.”

“Yeah, no shit,” he retorts sifting through his hamper. Separating out the darks from the lights, whites elsewhere—it’s a system. 

You tilt your head, amused, and stare at him. It’s midafternoon now, the boxes had been unpacked and your own items absorbed into the communal drawers and spaces of the loft. Robin and Eddie busied themselves with their usual activities, whatever those were, and the loft had been quiet save for the a/c kicking on.

“D’ya wanna talk about it?”

Your hesitant to ask, voice soft as you bite your lip. He stops sorting the clothes to look at you, brow furrowed. 

“Talk about what?”

It’s only then that he notices you’re wearing his shirt. He shouldn’t be surprised, not really, you’re like a raccoon, always rifling through his shit and stealing his stuff. As if he wouldn’t notice.

An old white t-shirt from some vintage store or another that read ‘Stanley Cup.’ It swallows you, the white dips and stretches over your chest, and drops as its hem reaches the tops of your thighs. Your bare legs stick out, bottoms obscured by its larger size. You’re distracted by the material and fit, fingers tugging at the collar and adjusting the sleeves.

Something feels weird. Kind of funny like how a jab to the side hurts and tickles at the same time. Shock? Relief? Confusion, at the very least. He catches himself staring.

“Y’know,” you say after a while, hand stroking at your sternum languidly, “Christmas? We should get it out in the open.”

That snaps him out of it.

“Don’t you mean Thanksgiving?” 

He goes back to sorting the clothes, anything to distract himself in the moment.

“What do you mean? Thanksgiving?”

If he had to pinpoint it, the moment this whole thing was set off for him, it was that first night in the cabin over Thanksgiving break. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, could barely keep his hands to himself.

He sighs, brushing away the hair that had fallen into his eyes frustratedly, “Yeah. When the idiots conned us into a one-bed-short situation? You got drunk, and I had to take care of you?”

He just stops himself from saying, like always. Just barley, but he does it. Steve knows this has been difficult for you, doesn’t want to belabor the point.

“Oh,” you say. It’s soft, maybe a little dejected, too. Your legs stop their idle swinging. “Sorry, I didn’t know—”

“S’fine,” he says with a wave of his hand, tosses in a load of dark clothes to the washer. “I mean, we probably should discuss it. Just for like, ground rules or something.”

He eyeballs the amount of laundry detergent and shuts the machine, turning the dial and pressing ‘start.’ As the washer begins its cycle, he leans back against it, arms crossed. 

You take a deep breath in, “I didn’t want you to be that guy,” you admit, voice catching. “I couldn’t— I wouldn’t do that to you, Steve.”

“Then why did you–” he responds after a second, pausing to make eye contact, watches your wavering expression, wincing as you recall the events of last December.

“Jesus, Stevie,” you say gently, “You’re--my best friend.”

The door of the loft bursts open as he begins to reply. He takes you aside in the hallway, further from the laundry and closer to your bedroom. Hears Robin shout something about take-out orders, but dismisses it for the time being.

This isn’t for anyone except you and him. You can’t even articulate it to yourself, much less anyone else, so Steve nudges you into your room and shuts the door. You turn to him and the look in your eyes makes his breath stick to his throat. Jesus.

This is worse than sympathy and he wishes it were that simple. But this is heartbreak— and you’re the type of person who feels heartbreak in unimaginable ways. Steve shakes his head, doesn’t know how to navigate this part.

The first time this happened, he joked for your sake, and you laughed back for his. You both were younger then, inexperienced and wary; fumbling hands and lips after the Homecoming dance. The last time this happened, the glances were more pointed, the touches were measured and precise.

He’s thought about that night more than he’d care to admit.

Your mouth falls open in a hoarse whisper, “Sorry— I’m—”

“Hey, none of that,” he chides taking a step closer. “S’nothing to worry about.”

“But I—” you choke up, “I hurt you, Steve. I hurt you so much.”

He sucks a breath in. It was a lifetime ago. It was nothing. He was young and dumb and interested in Nancy, your best friend, and not the girl next door. And then, when he had realized his mistake, you were in love with somebody else— wearing his ring and planning to take his name.

Idiot.

He wishes he had a similar excuse for Christmas, but god knows he doesn’t. No excuse whatsoever, just raw feeling and need. He shakes the thought loose before it can take hold. Steve’s hands find purchase along your arms, his weight the only thing tethering you to the ground.

“But I’m okay. I’m good now. I got you with me. I’m okay.” All his rambling rushes out through a harried stream-of-consciousness. His thumbs running smooth circles against your skin, “You— You gotta stop cryin’. It’s killin’ me, honey.”

You blink your eyes, not recognizing the tears beading along your lashes. You press your palms into your eyes, take a deep breath in and out. “Okay.”

You keep to yourself for the rest of the day, only coming out for food when the take-out arrives. And even then, you eat quickly and make some excuse about needing to organize your room before leaving the table. 

Robin eyes Steve suspiciously, “You two alright?”

He leaves the table rather than respond and follows you down the hall. Your door is cracked open, laptop playing some sitcom or other on the desk as you fold clothes on your bed. You pause hearing the groan of an old floorboard, “That you Steve?”

“Yeah, s’just me.” 

Not turning from your task, you wave him in over your shoulder and continue pairing socks. He helps you return the clothes to their respective drawers and flops on your bed, exhausted, while you shut your laptop closed.

“Guess you’re staying then.”

“Guess so,” his voice is muffled by your impossibly comfortable duvet. Like clouds or some shit, Steve wonders passingly where you got it from.

Half-heartedly, you shove him to the side and turn down the sheets. You pat the side next to you and fluff up some pillows. He lays down next to you on the bed, propped up against a pillow or two, settling down for the night.

Steve watches as you burrow down in the sheets, mumble something incomprehensibly, body sliding briefly until you’re completely pressed against him. He tugs the blanket up and shifts so he can lie down comfortably, grabs your phone from the center of the bed.

He’s looking at your background wallpaper when you mumble something unintelligible in your sleep again. It’s a picture of him from a Zoom faculty meeting during the pandemic, brows raised at something some dumbass had said, you’d texted him a moment earlier saying ‘this idiot saying the quiet part out loud’ and he had to cover his laugh with a cough; you’d isolated his cell on the call and posed next to his face as it filled the screen of your monitor, a cheeky grin and thumbs up as Eddie snapped the photo.

A short sigh followed by a deeper one. “Yeah, you know.”

“Uh huh,” Steve smirks, entertaining your babbling. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” A grunt, a huff of breath before you flip on your side, dreaming now. “Yeah. I love you.”

Steve fumbles and drops the phone on the floor, its screen going dark. He stares wordlessly at the deep blue of your ceiling, sleep-drunk words sinking to the bottom of his swollen heart.

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

That Cold, Wintry Night. [G.W. x Ravenclaw!Reader]

[GIF credits to respective owners]

Summary: You waited weeks for George to ask you out to the ball, only to find out the cold truth.

Warnings: Some swearing, heavy angst, nargles, unrequited loveeeee

Word count: 2.3k

a/n: ANGSTTTTTTTTT!!!! COME AND GET YOUR ANGST!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Part 2

--

A clock was counting down in your heart. For that week, you only heard the words “Yule”, “Ball”, and “Date” come out of the mouths of students. Quite frankly, you were getting tired of it. Not just because it was getting repetitive, but it also reminded you of one thing you dreaded the most.

  George hadn’t asked you out yet.

  It had been two solid weeks since Professor McGonagall’s Yule Ball dance class, and you had been waiting for George to strut up to you and ask you out to the dance. However, he never did. He went on about his week running around with Fred stealing toilet seats and doing Weasley things like the Yule Ball wasn’t coming up. It hurt, to say the least. 

  You sat in the Great Hall with your best mates, Cho Chang and Luna Lovegood, poking away at your mash and gravy. A frown rested upon your face, catching the attention of Cho.

  “What’s got ye all worked up, Y/N?” Cho asked as she turned to face you.

  “It’s... Nothing...” You replied, not once looking up at her. Cho didn’t buy it, and neither did Luna. The two looked at each other knowingly and nodded. Luna placed a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, nargles are flying atop your head. Something’s bothering you.” She was right. Nargles-- George had been flying around your mind all week, and it was getting to you.

  “It’s just that--” You paused to set your fork down and straighten your composure, “--George hasn’t asked me to the ball yet.” 

  It wasn’t a secret that you fancied the younger twin. Hell, the entirety of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw knew. All except for George.

Luna and Cho looked at each other once again, but had a newfound look of determination on their faces this time. They linked arms with you, now pulling you out of your seat. You protested as you wanted to finish your mash, but to no avail. They dragged you out of the Great Hall, to the Ravenclaw common room.

  “We’ll make him want to ask you out.” They chorused.

--

  The rest of the morning was spent dolling you up for your lessons. Cho flicked her wand, curling your locks loosely and tied the crown of your hair up. Luna, on the other hand, was rummaging through your trunk for your cosmetics. She let out a small ‘aha’ once she had found what she was looking for. She had an eyelash curler and nude eyeshadow palette in hand which she held up triumphantly. 

  “Can’t have Snape taking 10 points off for wearing bright makeup, can we?” Luna chirped as she made her way towards you.

  By the time your makeover session was done, it was time for your lessons. Luna and Cho left you first to allow you to admire yourself in the mirror. You were, for lack of a better word, gorgeous. Usually, you paid no attention to your appearance as you were always rushing to classes. You looked different; like a princess. It was a simple look, yet captivating. You twirled around with a small, shy smile. You took one last satisfied glance at yourself before you packed up your things and rushed to potions.

  Everyone else in the classroom was engaged in their own conversations, except for George. He was mid-conversation with Lee when he noticed you enter the room. Safe to say, he was awestruck. 

  “Lee-- hold on.” He hushed the boy to focus all his attention to you.

  You smiled sheepishly at him as you made your way towards him, blushing under his intense gaze.

  “Hey.” You breathed out. Lee took the hint and stood up from where he was, offering his seat to you which you graciously accepted. He winked at George from behind you before making his way to Fred.

  “Don’t you look gorgeous today?” George commented, intertwining his fingers with yours. Ten points for Cho and Luna, you thought to yourself.

  “You look rather Georgie-ish yourself.” You winked at him. In the corner of your eye, you saw Luna and Cho cheering you on from their seats. You looked into George’s eyes.

  “Have you a date for the ball yet?” You asked, finally breaking the weeks worth of tension building up inside you.

  George grew silent at the question. His smile melted into a slight frown before he released his grip from your hands. What the fuck? You internally grimaced. You took his silence as a yes. 

  The rest of potions was spent in awkward silence. You occasionally glanced at George, then to Cho and Luna, then back to the blackboard. The silence was suffocating. Why the hell did he suddenly give you the cold shoulder? It was understandable if he wanted to pay attention in class-- after all, potions was his best subject-- but it felt like he was shutting you out of his world.

  Once Snape had dismissed your class, George left without a word. Cho and Luna rushed towards you with concerned looks on their faces.

  “What the bloody hell was that, Y/N?” asked Cho calmly, as she gripped your shoulders and shook you violently for an answer. Luna was quick to calm Cho down as you had grown dizzier by the second, and so did the nargles.

  “I’m not sure, Cho. I just asked him if he had a date for the ball and all of a sudden it’s like he’s been hit by a silencing hex or something!” You cried out. Luna ushered the two of of you out of the classroom before Snape noticed the three of you lingering and took points off Ravenclaw.

  The three of you walked down the corridor and made your way up from the dungeons. You continued talking angrily about George until you stopped dead in your tracks. You saw something you dreaded and never wanted to see, and Cho and Luna followed your line of sight.

  There he was, talking to Angelina, their hands intertwined as they smiled lovingly at each other. You felt like you had just taken a Cruciatus curse to the heart. You looked at your two friends, who looked back at you with concern, and cracked a sullen smile.

  “I’ll see you guys at dinner later.”

--

  You spent the rest of the afternoon crying to your heart’s content in the girl’s toilet. Every now and then, Moaning Myrtle would check up on you. Sometimes she would try and lift your spirits, to which you would laugh weakly at. You pulled out a tiny, rustic pocket watch from your robe and took note of the time. It was the evening before the day of the Yule Ball, and you didn’t have a date. Cho was going with Cedric, and Luna was too young to go. You excused yourself from Myrtle and waved her good bye before you set off for the Great Hall.

  As you walked through the entrance of the hall, you were greeted rather unpleasantly by the sight of George and Angelina sitting together as they talked about something. You watched as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and how she shifted closer to him. You held back your tears as you made your way over to your table, expecting to see Cho and Luna. However, it was only Luna. She saw your confused expression and pointed over to the Hufflepuff table.

  “Right, she’s going to the ball with Cedric.” You huffed out as you took your seat next to Luna.

  “And I can’t go to the ball...” Luna sighed out sadly, “You know, Y/N, I would’ve gone to the ball with you as mates.” You chuckled lightly at the younger girl, flattered.

  “Will you still be going?” Luna looked up at you with expectant eyes. “I’m not sure.” Your eyes wandered over to the Gryffindor table, watching George and Angelina sadly. A frown made its way onto her face as she felt your sadness. She put a reassuring hand on yours and rubbed it gingerly.

  “You should still go,” Luna smiled, “it’d be a waste not to.”

--

  And so you did.

  With the help of Cho’s hands of gold, and Luna’s keen eye, you were all set for the ball. You felt like a princess. You were donned in a brilliant forget-me-not blue silk gown made layered by chiffon. Golden flowers accented the dress, bringing out your Ravenclaw pride. (Yes, I know, Ravenclaw colours are blue and bronze) Though sleeveless, your shoulders were wrapped in beautiful, elegantly tied ribbons by Cho. Luna tied your hair into a beautiful low bridal bun, slipping a silver diadem bejeweled with lovely crystals shaped like crescents and constellations atop your head. Your makeup was light and simple, so as to not drive the attention away from your beautiful-- no-- enthralling outfit.

  “Let’s go then, shall we, Princess?” Cho chuckled lightly as she linked arms with you. “Enjoy!” Luna called out to the two of you, watching as her gorgeous bestfriends left for the Great Hall.

  The Great Hall was nothing short of spectacular. Great Fir trees stood proudly at the front, decorated splendidly. It snowed, but it didn’t snow. Icicles hung lowly from the pillars. Round tables with tiny ice sculptures of the Hogwarts castle displayed in the center were scattered around, carrying the refreshments and hors d’oeuvres. 

  Cho had left you a while ago to make her entrance with Cedric, leaving you to make your way down the staircase alone. Your heels clacked with each step you took. Each time the sound reverberated, you couldn’t help but feel more and more self-conscious. After all, you were going alone, without a date. As you reached the bottom of the staircase, you felt that all eyes were on you. You looked around for the pair of eyes you wanted to be on you, but instead found that they were on someone else.

  George was in the corner of the room, twirling Angelina. “You look amazing.” A voice interrupted you. You turned your head to see the youngest Weasley brother, Ron, with his hand outstretched to you. “Haven’t you got a date?” You asked, taking his hand. “Uh... No... Not really.” He grinned sheepishly as he scratched the back of his head with the other.

  “May I share this dance with you?” He asked. For a split second, you saw George’s face instead of his.

  “Yes, you may.” You grinned.

  The two of you danced, though a bit awkwardly. There were times where you would accidentally step on his toes, or when he tried to spin you, but you were towering over him. It was endearing.

  Your attention was suddenly brought back to the corner of the room where George and Angelina danced. They bellowed loudly as the two tangoed. He flipped her around, then dipped her. Then kissed her.

  He kissed her.

  George had kissed her.

  Ron followed your line of sight, seeing his brother’s lips locked with Angelina’s. He looked back at your tearful expression, before finally understanding what was going on. He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly excused yourself. You stormed out of the Great Hall, furious, heartbroken and confused. George saw you storm out in the corner of his eye. He quickly excused himself from Angelina with a quick peck to the cheek.

--

  Of course it was Angelina. It had to be her. She was the Chaser, she was in Gryffindor, and she was drop-dead gorgeous, too.

  You found yourself by the carriages, not caring about the cold that pricked your skin. You didn’t care about the tears frozen on your cheeks, or the fact that your mascara was running down your face. You hugged your knees close to your chest as you sobbed endlessly.

  “Y/N?” A voice called out from afar.

  You didn’t budge. You stayed there, frozen. 

  “Y/N!” The voice called out again, only, it was getting closer.

  Soon, a familiar redhead made his way towards you. He saw your body propped against an empty carriage, shivering. “Y/N! What are you doing out here in the cold?!” He rushed over to you. You pushed him away, much to his surprise.

  “Y/N? What’s the matter.” He asked, innocently. That was your final straw. You looked up at him as your face was tear-streaked, smudged with frozen mascara and a crooked diadem.

  “What’s the matter?!” You jabbed a finger into his chest as your eyebrows furrowed deeply, “YOU’RE THE MATTER!” You yelled out.

  “Me?! What did I do?!” George stepped back, slightly offended.

  “George Fabian Weasley,” You spat out menacingly, “Are you acting dumb?” By then, you were so angry you started to cry again. George could only tilt his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed as his head started racing with possible answers to your outburst. You, however, gave him the answer.

  “I’m bloody mad for you, that’s what the fucking matter is!”

  George’s eyes widened, then softened with pity.

  “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

  “Why?” Your voice broke, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You tried to reach out for his hand, but he only pulled back, causing you to fall on your knees. You wanted to hiss at the cold rocks poking into your knees, but you could only let out howls of grief. George slowly stepped back, away from you.

  “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.” He tried to say warmly, but the coldness of his words stabbed into your heart. He walked away from you, and back into the castle, leaving you alone and cold without a goodbye.

  You forgot one thing; that George and Angelina had a thing going-- and it was well-known to everyone, too. Blinded by your love for him, you ignored the warning signs that he was out of reach. You had always been told that a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor would never work out. You should’ve heeded the warnings. He left you there, on that cold, wintry night.

--

[GIF not by me]

[fayzer1012]

3 Barrel Curling Iron Hair Crimper: Aleath Dual Voltage Three Barrels Hair Waver - 1 inch Curler Wand

[pixienatthecat]

Since I was in my early teens I was obsessed with 60s hair. Particularly the flips with the teased hair. At the rip old age of 34 I have decided to finally try and get this hair style.

Brush rollers on ebay from some woman's grandmas 60s collection, along with a 60s hair curler wand!!! It comes with 3 attachments of different diameters. (It's called Curler Queen, made by Shane Engineering Company)

Foam rollers

Dipity-Doo hair setting gel

Bought two boxes and a single pack of vintage 60s pin curl clips

70s hot roller set

Tons of scarves (you can by vintage scarf sets on ebay)

Some pdfs of hairstyles from etsy

waterproof cover for hairstyles from the 60s

Hair nets to sleep in curls

I need:

hair spray

a better boar brush

[swan-of-sunrise]

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.

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

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​​​​​​      

[pure-ablution]

Pedicure routine

Favourite lip balms

AM skincare

PM skincare

Scalp oil recipe

Super-shiny hair routine

Deep body exfoliation

Hair wash day routine

Scent routine

Deep facial cleansing

How I get bombshell curls

How I get my daily dose of collagen

How I improved my hair thickness and length

How I achieved my dream body

Must-haves for tired eyes

Beauty for long-haul flights

Favourite makeup products

A high-maintenance look

My morning routine

On beauty standards

What I have done to my lips

Supplement routine

Ukrainian beauty standards

Favourite foundations

Facial massage

Study tips

Tools I use for posture

Products for soft hands

Interesting YouTube channels

10 things I couldn’t live without

On status symbols and branding

Non-visual interpretations of beauty

How to reduce stretch marks

On setting and achieving goals

Tips for good sleep

My favourite lip pencils

Russian-language online resources

Explanation of lip blushing techniques

My favourite mascaras

Tools for facial massage

Mascara wand selection

Hot weather makeup products

Affordable luxurious products

On orthodontics as a beauty investment

Lash lifts

UK expat beauty advert pages

Products for soft hands & feet

On body language

Tips for clear skin

How I improve my makeup style

How I make and save money as a student

Tips for learning foreign languages

My favourite YouTube workouts

My favourite summer clothing brands

Dating app photo guide

Looking to your roots for inspiration

On dance

3 things I did for my image

Products for dandruff

About my strabismus surgery

How I made my own colour chart

About Revitonica

What I used to wear on dates

Makeup & skincare to look awake

How to refine your aesthetic tastes

My 10-minute makeup routine

Eyelash curlers

My favourite perfume blogs

My top 5 perfumes

Products for blemishes

My favourite designer makeup products

About makeup theory

Skincare products for ageing skin

Planning a glow up from scratch

On hair removal methods

Non-physical aspects of beauty

Sauna essentials

Tips for growing long lashes

The exercises and sports I like

Weightlifting routine

On reconnecting with your heritage

Resources for researching skincare

A step-by-step guide to finding independent beauticians

How to apply scalp oil

My favourite sheet masks

My everyday makeup routine

City guide: London

My everyday makeup products

Books about perfume

My hairbrush collection (with tutorials)

How I colour my hair without damage

Brands for essential wardrobe basics

Recipes for whole-food collagen sources

What’s going in my bridal trousseau

Homemade face mask recipes

[underworld-park-offical]

Gregory

Can you give me tips about your makeup

Also

You’re better then that stinky poopy head Craig

Thank you so much! I know I am so much better than that supreme shitstain <3

If you're looking for makeup tips, you're asking the right person!

Start with a Clean Canvas:

Begin your makeup routine with a clean and moisturized face to ensure a smooth application.

Use Primer:

Apply a makeup primer to create a smooth base, minimize pores, and help your makeup last longer.

Choose the Right Foundation:

Select a foundation that matches your skin tone and undertone. Test it on your jawline for the most accurate match.

Blend, Blend, Blend:

Blend your foundation and other face products seamlessly into your skin for a natural finish. A makeup sponge or brush can be helpful for this.

Concealer Technique:

Apply concealer in a triangular shape under your eyes to brighten and conceal dark circles. Use a shade slightly lighter than your foundation.

Set with Powder:

Set your makeup with a translucent powder to control shine and increase the longevity of your look.

Contour and Highlight Strategically:

Contour areas like the hollows of your cheeks, jawline, and sides of your nose. Highlight the high points of your face, like cheekbones and the bridge of your nose.

Blush Placement:

Smile and apply blush to the apples of your cheeks for a youthful and lifted effect.

Eyebrows Frame the Face:

Fill in your eyebrows to frame your face. Use a pencil, powder, or gel, depending on your preference.

Eye Primer:

Apply an eye primer before eyeshadow to enhance color payoff and prevent creasing.

Transition Shade:

Start your eyeshadow look with a neutral transition shade to create depth and seamlessly blend other colors.

Define Your Eyes:

Use eyeliner to define your eyes. Experiment with different styles, like winged liner or tightlining, to achieve the desired effect.

Lash Curler Magic:

Curl your lashes before applying mascara to open up your eyes and create a wide-awake look.

Mascara Application:

Wiggle the mascara wand at the base of your lashes and then comb through to the tips for voluminous lashes.

Lips:

Exfoliate your lips for a smooth application of lipstick or gloss. Consider using a lip liner to define your lip shape.

Choose Lip Colors Wisely:

Select lip colors that complement your overall makeup look and outfit. Consider your skin tone and the occasion.

Setting Spray:

Set your makeup with a setting spray to lock in your look and keep it fresh throughout the day.

Clean Your Brushes:

Regularly clean your makeup brushes to prevent breakouts and ensure smooth makeup application.

Experiment and Have Fun:

Makeup is an art form, so don't be afraid to experiment with colors, techniques, and styles. Have fun expressing your creativity!

Natural Lighting:

When possible, apply your makeup in natural lighting to ensure that you get a true sense of colors.

Use these tips wisely, slay queen!! I just know you'll turn out BEAUTIFUL!! (Not that you weren't already ;) )

-Gregory_Cutie_Pie_3rd

[mamaestapa]

i have the worst luck today😭

i just ripped out half of my eyelashes with a curler then proceeded to stab my eye with the mascara wand after i ripped my lashes out. UGH