Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was a rainy day outside of “Garfield's Bing Bong Bazinga Lasatte Place” (the ONLY place in town that did Lasagna flavoured Latte’s), and that suited Waluigi’s needs just fine. He wah’d miserably into his drink, delicately running one gloved finger around the rim of the cup.

“I just’a don’t get it, Numbertaker,” he drawled in that irresistible accent of his. “I’m a nice-a guy, and no one ever goes for me.” The Numbertaker sighed, taking a shot of Incel Tears that had been on the specials menu that day.

“Tell me about it, Waluigi. Every time I try taking a girl out on a date it’s all ‘oh, how did I get here?’ and ‘oh, where’s my husband?’ and ‘oh, why does my fork only have one prong now?’ It’s just like, is romance dead or what?”

Waluigi nodded knowingly. The Numbertaker could really kidnap people’s wives like nobody, but it still landed him here, stuck across from Waluigi on Gentlemens Night at Garfield’s. Garfield himself was at the counter, gazing idly at the open mic stage. His boyfriend, Alvin, and his two brothers were here, playing some covers on acoustic. Right now they were deep into a cover of ‘WAP’, composed for the accordion and the hurdy gurdy, and Waluigi didn’t know that he had ever seen anyone so in love when he saw the look on old Garf’s face.

“Maybe I should just give up trying to find someone,” Waluigi sighed, leaning back in his seat. “I mean, ever since Magical Mister Mistoffelees found the cure for Covid-19 and the dating pool has opened back up, it’s been disaster after disaster! I’m embarrassed to show my face! They let all of my family and friends into the new Super Smash Bros game, and not me!” He waa’d unhappily. “Maybe I’m just’a not meant to find happiness.”

“Hey,” The Numbertaker said fiercely, waving his pincher into his friend's face. “No one talks badly about my friend, not even you! I’m sure the right person’s out there, they could just be- oh fuck, Waluigi, don’t look to your left.”

Unfortunately, Waluigi was a badman, and didn’t let a cuck like the Numbertaker tell him what to do.

He turned to his left, outside of the rain streaked window of the coffee shop, to see Luigi there, parked utop his Big Dick Motorcycle, balancing no less than three women on his lap; Princess Peach, Sandy Cheeks and Mary Magdalene. His biker chaps cut tightly around his hips, making his bloody enormous penis bulge, and his moustache looked like it was smoking a blunt. He removed his three pairs of shades, and nodded to the young man who had been sprinting alongside the motorcycle holding up an umbrella, so that Luigi, the ultimate chad, would stay dry. At his roadmans nod, the man lay down on the concrete for a well deserved break.

“So! My little evil clone is sitting with the Numberwanker!” Luigi laughed cruelly. The three women on his lap joined in, as did the man on the ground in between puffs of his inhaler. “I didn’t think you would stoop so low as to hang out with that cuck!”

“Wah!” Waluigi pushed his chair away from his table, shaking the mug full of coffee so that the latte art went from looking like a heart to looking like the poggers emote. “He may be a cuck, and also a wanker, but it’s still not nice to say’a that to his face!”

“Cheers, bro.” The Numbertaker said genuinely.

“Of course, you two are a match made in Heaven! Perhaps the Numbertaker can take two of’a my bitches and give you one each!”

“Hey, I could if I wanted to! You’d just have to stay very still!” The Numberwanker threatened menacingly.

The three bitches in question burst into laughter as Luigi revved the engine.

“Anyways, me and the others are off to do a Super Smash Tournament, and you are not invited!” Luigi Cackled menacingly, and aimed a kick to the man on the ground. Upon rising, Waluigi saw that it was Graham Linehan.  He rose from the ground and held up the umbrella, keeping his head bowed so as to make no accidental eye contact with his master. Luigi revved the engine and nyoomed off into the distance, ready to fuck hard and strong. 

Waluigi steamed from the ears, and let off a mighty Wah that broke the sound barrier, The Numbertaker dabbed at the blood pouring from his ears, and Garfield sent a glare their way before signalling for Alvin and his brothers to carry on with their cover of Numb by Linkin Park.

“It’s not fair ! I should have what he has! Who is it I’m missing, who should I be looking for? I just feel like I’m so pent up and frustrated , I just need someone to tie me down and get it out of me.”

“Hmm…” The Numbertaker rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his hoover hand. “So what you need is like a domme?”

“A domme?” Waluigi questioned.

“Yeah, like a woman that will be tough with you. I worked with someone like that, back in the old days.”

The Numbertaker reached into his pocket for his phone, struggling for several minutes to get a grip on it, dropping it several times. He teared up sometimes when he thought of his old hands, which he had traded away so that he might eternally change the numbers of things. How was he to know how much he would miss the feeling of a warm, fleshy hand inside his own? Not to mention he couldn’t even whack one out.

After a solid 20 minutes of continuously dropping his phone, The Numbertaker pulled up a contact and showed it to his friend.

“Spooky Spoon? What is that, some kind of a nickname?’ Waluigi asked cautiously, nervously twiddling his moustache.

“Of sorts. We were...colleagues. Would have kept being colleagues too if it wasn’t for those meddling numbers…”

“Numbers?” 

“That’s a story for another time. Anyway’s, she’s into some kinky shit, I’ll send her your number. You cool to meet with her this week?”

Waluigi thought it over. When was he every going to get another chance like this? If it worked out, he could bring this Spooky Spoon with him to cheer him on at his races, his tennis matches, even his competitive Wahing championships. He would be the envy of everyone. It was an easy choice, in the end.

“Wah.” He said decisively, taking a phat sip of his meaty latte.

****************************************************************************************************

Waluigi sat at the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell, wahing nervously to himself as he played with his fidget spinner. He had arrived early, and his server had spit at him out of malice, and Waluigi was embarrassed at how much he had enjoyed it. There was another two minutes until his date was meant to arrive and he was beside himself. He had put on his best suspenders and brought his best tennis racket to woo her (or rather wah her) with, but would it be enough?

Suddenly, the doors to the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell flew open, and there she stood.

She hovered a good five and a half feet off of the ground, a girthy seven inches long, and bright, hot pink, her makeup done immaculately. She glanced around the restaurant, her gaze blinding and sharp. Waluigi could feel his penis go doki doki in his pants. They weren’t even at the table together, and already my man was simping.

Spooky Spoon saw him and smiled devilishly, floating over to hover at her chair.

“You must be Waluigi,” she said in her London accent, “The Numbertaker has told me an awful lot about you.”

“Wah?” Waluigi said questioningly. He felt incapable of saying much else at that moment, and he flushed purple. But Spooky Spoon just laughed her silky laugh, and that smile. That damn smile of hers. 

“Have you been waiting here long then?” She asked. Waluigi smiled and cleared his throat.

“Wah- I mean, yes. The waitress was very annoyed at me, I’m wahfraid.”

Spooky Spoon’s eyes flashed scarlet for a second. “What did she do to you? Did she yell at you?”

“No, no! But, wah, she did spit on me.”

Spooky Spoon began to stir violently.

“Point her out to me.”

Nervously, Waluigi raised a trembling gloved finger to the woman at the door who had shown him through. Spooky Spoon stirred vigorously, pointed in her direction and then suddenly, with a brief pop of air, the waitress had disappeared, and left only a combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell apron in her wake. 

****************************************************************************************************

In another world, the waitress opened her eyes, and found herself in the passenger seat of a car, with a letter on her hands. She blinked furiously, eyes dashing about for anything familiar, but finding nothing. So, instead, she read what was on the page. Baron Reinhold… village of Mystere… vast fortune… the golden apple? Well, none of this made sense! She looked next to her, and saw a man with a top hat at the steering wheel of the car.

“I don’t understand, Professor…” She said, somehow knowing that that was who the man was. “Why are we going to solve an inheritance dispute?”

The man only laughed and doffed his hat.

“Luke, my boy, do you really think I would take on such an ordinary request as that?”

****************************************************************************************************

Back in the combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell, Waluigi was the hardest he’d ever been in his life.

“Wah wah wah wah? Where did you send her?” Spooky Spoon only laughed.

“Don’t you worry about that, little boy. She deserved it.”

“But...wah do you care?”

Spooky Spoon smiled and hovered in close.

“Because, Waluigi… I’m the only one who’s allowed to punish you.”

The rest of the meal passed quickly, as they only ordered a free tap water and a side of doritos between them, and Waluigi’s leg jiggled in anticipation. He needed to go home with this woman today or he might genuinely explode. Spooky Spoon had dropped a blue shell directly on his heart, and he wanted to ride that rainbow road with her together. Once the last Dorito had been eaten, Spooky Spoon settled the tab and leaned in again, nice and close so that her breath tickled Waluigi’s moustache.

“What do you say we take it back to my place?” She breathed. Waluigi wah’d excitedly, practically tap dancing in his seat.

“Wah...Waht are you going to do with me?”

“Well, that’s for you to find out, isn’t it, you naughty, naughty little boy?”

****************************************************************************************************

They fell through the door to Spooky Spoon’s apartment, making out furiously, as she led him to the bedroom. Waluigi chucked off all of his clothes, saving his gloves for last, whilst Spooky Spoon delicately took off her necklace. Once Waluigi was undressed, Spooky Spoon guided him to sit down on the bed.

“Wait here,” she ordered, “And don’t touch anything until I get back.” She floated backwards into the en suite and slammed the door magically.

Waluigi wah’d in confirmation and sat on the bed, looking around at the room. On a dartboard in the corner was a picture of a green number five, and it appeared to have been pierced several times, and framed on the walls were several pictures of spoons in indecent positions, making Waluigi blush. He wandered what Spooky Spoon intended to do with him, both nervous and indescribably aroused. 

He had never had a woman like Spooky Spoon before. She was so domineering and confident, and it made him feel incredible. He would do anything she asked; if she had feet, he would lick them. If she had hands, he would lick those as well. He was just generally down for licking in any capacity. 

The bathroom door opened, and Spooky Spoon floated out in a tight fitting body harness, with a riding crop floating closely besides her. On the floor directly beneath her where a pair of black high heeled boots that moved in time with her. She was an absolute vision, and it was a wonder Waluigi didn’t splooge right there and then.

“Now, Waluigi.” Said Spooky Spoon, moving towards him. “You are going to lie back on this bed and take your cropping, and I don’t want to hear a single Wah out of you, you’ve got it? And if you’re an especially good boy… I’ll even peg you afterwards.”

“B-b-but Spooky Spoon, where’s your strap on?”

She laughed.

“Oh you silly billy. I am the strap on.”

****************************************************************************************************

EPILOGUE

Waluigi and Spooky Spoon had been dating for two years now, and were enjoying a night in at Garfield’s Bing Bong Bazinga Lasette Place, a regular haunt for the two of them, as Alvin and his brothers played the hit song Revenge (A Minecraft Parody) using only slide whistles.

Waluigi’s leg was juggling nervously. He knew what he had to do, he just had to wait for the right time to do. He swallowed nervously around the collar that lived permanently around his throat now. The tag read “I’m The Little Spoon.”

Spooky Spoon was relaxed, sipping on her Lasagne Mocha through a reusable hessian straw, and taking in the music, nodding along. The song finished up, and Waluigi clapped twice as loud for the both of them.

“And now,” Alvin announced into his microphone, “we have a special request from someone in the audience tonight. This is “A Windmill In Old Amsterdam.”

Spooky Spoon looked back to Waluigi with stars in her eyes.

“Babe!” She gasped as the song started up with Theodore on vocals. “This is our song, isn’t that crazy?”

“Wah, it is crazy.” He took a deep breath. “Spooky Spoon, these last two years with you have been the undeniable best of my life. You always support me, you’re there when I need you, and nobody ties bdsm safe knots quite like you do. You make an incredibly apple and coriander quiche, you always predict who wins on The Great British Sewing Bee, not to mention you fuck like a champion. What I’m trying to say is,”

Waluigi got down on one knee, and presented a haribo gummy ring.

“Will you be Mah Wife?”

Spooky Spoon began to tear up.

“Oh honey, you even said it in the Borat voice just the way I like it! Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you!”

The two embraced, and the three customers that were in the store half heartedly clapped.

Unbeknownst to them, however, as the two embraced, she whispered into his ear;

“And when we get home, you better believe I’m gonna stir up some trouble.”

THE END