#her name is Cinderella :3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tieronecrush · 6 months

Text

secret santa

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

summary: your parents throw a christmas party every year, and this is your first time in the “adult” secret santa exchange. the last few times home, you’ve found joel, your dad’s friend, staring a bit too long, flicking away when he’s caught. for the game, of course, you get joel’s name. and you’re going to make sure it’s the best gift he’s ever received.

rating: E

wc: 5.6k

warnings: daddy kink, age gap (sorry folks but i did want to try my hand at dbf!joel lol i pictured him around 50, reader around mid-late 20s), alcohol consumption, mentions of food, distant relationship with parents, party, christmas, gift giving, secret santa game, bit of deception on reader's part just to get joel alone, lingerie, body worship, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, restraints (using clothes/undergarments), daddy!joel, soft!dom joel, praise, a few instances of degradation, dirty talk (as always)

a/n: (images in moodboard do not convey what reader looks like, only the vibe! no descriptions of reader) my first dbf!joel…milestone moment lol <3 hope y’all enjoy my take on the dbf trope! and tysm to my babies for beta-ing @northernbluess and @kiwisbell love you both 😚

dividers by @saradika

Twenty years. This same godforsaken party has been happening every December for the last twenty years of your life, full of overserved middle aged parents, and never has it been less enjoyable than since you’ve been an “adult”. An adult still treated as a child, chastised, fawned over, always told to follow the golden rule. No, not treat others as they wish to be treated. Your family’s golden rule was speak only when spoken to.

And your father was the enforcer. Always required you home for the party, even away, out of state for college, away for the semester studying abroad halfway across the world. You were flown home and called upon to do the heavy lifting — groceries, liquor runs, cleaning the house, decorating to make it all feel magically festive.

At times, it felt like Cinderella had nothing on you. At least she had a prince.

The only time that this party has ever been remotely improved was when Joel Miller moved into the neighborhood. He’d snuck in under your radar due to the fact that it happened the few months you were living abroad, but coming back for the party and Christmas break, you were quickly introduced to him by your father. His new “best friend”. One among many. Each serving a unique purpose to get your dad ahead.

Upon meeting Joel, you were drawn to him immediately. Skeptical over the fact he found company with your dad, but much to your surprise, he was different. Maybe lonely and looking for a friend; you’d found he was living alone, his adult daughter, Sarah, in her final years at the University of Chicago — a choice that was hers but Joel admittedly feared, you learned. He only encouraged her, regardless of the fact he was anxious about losing his kiddo.

Not the same sentiments your dad had when dropping you off to school in the farthest, cheapest corner of the country you could find. He was nearly jumping up and kicking his feet together in glee to get you out of the house.

Joel, though, Joel was kind hearted and patient. He was curious and caring, asking you about school, work, your life every time he saw you over the years. Warmth radiated from him despite his more shy demeanor. Comfortable. You felt so comfortable with him.

Which is what made the smallest of lingering glances or the slightest of smiles turned smirks that much more exhilarating.

Maybe you were being naive or projecting your burning desire for him onto every interaction, but as you stitched yourself tighter into Joel’s life over the years, you haven’t been able to help but notice him checking you out at times or slipping a subtle flirty comment into conversations between the two of you. You would give it right back, and that would usually pump the breaks, bringing things back to surface level.

There was one time this past summer, after a neighborhood barbecue that your parents left early from, that you and Joel really had a moment. It was loud, music drowning out the back and forth you were having to the point where you couldn’t quite make out every word, and Joel must have felt the same because he made sure you heard his next words clearly — “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

Agreeing immediately, he pressed his large hand into the midpoint of your back, guiding you out of the confines of the party and to the open air of the street. He led you to his place and around back, pulling two lounge chairs next to his pool closer to each other.

That night, thanks to the alcohol buzzing in your system, you confessed more about your home life and your feelings around it. Joel was surprised, given the picture-perfect image your father paints for everyone, but he was comforting as always. Even as far as offering you his spare room if you ever needed a break.

That’s when you knew you were done for. Never in your life had you wanted to just kiss someone that badly. Let alone all of the thoughts that came along with it.

Harboring this crush for your dad’s friend, fifty plus and a father himself, you attempted to keep things growing closer when you came back. Friendly, polite, reciprocating any amount of flirty banter he threw your way. Even initiating it yourself.

You were so incredibly into Joel Miller. And returning home this time, you decided it was high time you acted on those feelings.

The noise of the bustling party dies down enough for your dad to introduce the game, as if the attendees haven’t been participating for nearly as long as you’ve been alive. But your dad loves the attention on him, cracking jokes that make you roll your eyes while everyone else gives him a laugh. Always so focused on himself. How everyone else sees him. Image obsessed enough to forget to assign anyone as a Secret Santa to his own daughter but not forgetting to give her someone to gift to.

Granted, you weren’t that upset about who you’d drawn.

Watching from afar, you see Joel survey the empty space under the tree, only the deep cherry red skirt laid out on the hardwood. Nothing for him. Everyone opens their presents, laughter and excitement bubbling across the room as the point of the game begins. Partygoers start to guess their gifters, hoping to nail down their Secret Santa in one go. Conversations are struck up as people meet their pair, ‘thank you’s exchanged along with the gifts. Joel observes from his spot with a few of your neighbors, also friends with your dad, and the sight of him shifting his weight on his feet is enough to draw up the courage to approach him.

Crossing the room, flashes of him checking you out, lingering in conversations with you about work and your new apartment in the city, seeking you out each time you visit home flood your mind, reassuring your choices the closer you get to him. The closer you get to completely jumping into the deep end, the last few steps teetering you at the edge.

Slowing to a stop next to him, a finger of yours gingerly taps his strong shoulder a few times, pulling his attention away completely. Joel turns his body to face you, away from others to solely focus on you in front of him. The subtle sign of his attraction to you has your nerves tingling, clearing your throat when he speaks up in greeting.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Y’alright?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Always so goddamn sweet.

You sigh, a tinge dramatic but attempting to sell the dismay and toying with the flute glass in your hand. “Lame surprise, but I’m your Secret Santa and I stupidly left your gift upstairs. It’s a bit obnoxious to bring down so d’you mind coming up to open it and you can grab it at the end of the night?”

Joel agrees with a jolt of nervous excitement down his spine. Shuddering out the feeling subtly, he clears his throat and nods, awaiting your lead. He thinks he catches the slightest drag of your eyes up and down his body, lingering at the expanse of his shoulders and the sliver of his chest that is exposed from the two undone buttons of his red flannel.

When no one’s paying attention, you bring Joel upstairs into your old room that you’re staying in while you’re back in town for the holidays. He stands around a bit awkwardly, sticking out like a sore thumb with his broad shoulders stretching his red flannel, thick thighs straining deliciously against the perfectly worn material of his Levi’s. Stark against the frilly softness of your room, with its bright white furnishings, and feminine touches. He’s all man. Nothing like the guys your age who think they’re like him.

Joel glances about the room before he asks, “So, what was so difficult to get under the tree, sweetheart? You didn’t have to get me anything so major.”

“I wanted to. I mean, noticed you eyeing what I got you for a while so figured the least I could do was give it to you…” Joel’s face twists up in confusion, perplexed by the riddled clue before you’re standing in front of him, reaching to the side of your plaid skirt and dragging down the zipper. Joel stutters out nonsense at your actions, lifting his hands in surrender.

“Doll, I think—you don’t—” His mumblings die in his throat when you drop the material to your ankles, revealing red satin panties. When you turn around, a bow sits at the top of your ass, tying up the material to stay on your hips while elasticated bands run along the outline of your cheeks to connect to the crotch. Very little of your bum is covered, showing off the supple flesh to Joel. He’s rendered speechless, averting his gaze after a second too long of staring, the mumblings starting up again.

“S’not a good idea, shouldn’t be up here right now…” Joel looks around, looking over his shoulder toward the door. One of your hands reaches up to gingerly cup his chin, turning his flushed face to yours again. His pupils are blown wide, eyes darkened with desire. Your own gaze flicks down between the two of you, smirking at the bulge growing at the crotch of his jeans. So desperately trying to fight against what he really wants. Even when you’re serving it up in a pretty little package.

He makes no movement toward the door, which you take as a sign of letting go of at least some of his apprehension. Fingers grip the hem of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, discarding it on your carpet along with your skirt.

Matching red satin material, the bra you’re wearing has a similar structure to your panties. Held up with straps and the usual clasps at the back, the front is a large gift bow, pulled tight when you tied it earlier this evening to push up the flesh of your breasts. One tug at the tail end of both the ribbons, the one at your chest and at your ass, would fully expose you to Joel. Something you’re desperate to propose to him.

“Aren’t you gonna unwrap your present, Joel?” Picking up each of his hands in yours, you guide one to your lower back and one to your chest, coaxing his fingers to wrap around the ends of the bows. “Or do you not like your gift? I thought you wanted this…”

“No, no, no. I like it. I really fucking like it, sweetheart, I just…Everybody’s downstairs and—”

“I can be quiet. I’m a good girl, Joel.”

That flips a switch in him, hearing those words from you. His eyes darken further, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. A burning stare combs over you, head to toe, alighting flames in your gut that lick against your insides. Heat crawls across the back of your neck, pooling in your collarbone, and craving oozes between your ribs and between each of your vertebrae. Joel’s right hand lifts from his side, skating up the length of your left arm and leaving goosebumps rising in its wake. Fingertips ghost over the strap of your bra, down to the center of your collarbone, and sitting there. That lasts only a second before his long, thick fingers wrap around the base of your throat, raising his loose grip to settle underneath your jaw.

The silence is heavy, airy breaths the only sounds passed between the two of you. His hand at your neck coaxes your head to tip back, staring up at him looking down at you. A flicker to your lips. A low, curious hum. Arousal pools in between your thighs as you wait with bated breath for something, anything to happen.

“You’re dangerous, doll.” His whisper is coated in lust, his gaze greedy as it drinks you in once again.

“I’m a gift,” you correct sweetly, feigning innocence as a smirk grows on your face at his dark chuckle.

“A gift that keeps on giving?” he questions. His hand twists to allow his thumb to find your bottom lip, dragging across its glossy, cherry surface.

“I guess you’ll have to find out…” Your mouth stays open after speaking, tongue slipping out to lick the tip of Joel’s thumb. He presses his finger further, pushing between your lips as you welcome it, sucking gently. Joel sighs, shoulders relaxing while his eyes flash with need.

“Christ…” he hisses under his breath, shaking his head subtly before clearing his throat. Speaking sternly, unwavering, he says, “Can I unwrap my present, babydoll?”

His thumb leaves your mouth with a quiet pop, hand finding its place again at the slack of the bow at your chest, other arm wrapping around to find the bow at your ass. A gentle tug moves the satiny smooth material a few centimeters, not enough to pull it fully undone.

“All yours, Joel. Picked out ‘specially for you.” Joel smirks at your candied reply, eager to give him exactly what he’s been wishing for. What you’ve caught him staring at the last few times you’ve come back home. What you have been wanting for just as long, if not longer.

“Such a sweet girl. Beautiful girl.”

The words send a tingle down your spine, stoking the flames inside of you. Your eyes stay trained on Joel’s face while his fingers draw the bow at your chest undone, the lengths of material hanging at your sides and exposing your breasts. He licks his lips at the sight of your pebbled nipples, rolling out a stifled groan from his chest.

“Fuck, baby…S’pretty.”

Joel’s hands fan across your lower back, holding your hips against his, pressing his bulge into your covered mound. His broad frame folds forward, draping you backwards in his arms as his mouth attaches to your chest. Humid, open-mouthed kisses are littered across your skin, nips taken at the tender flesh of your breasts. Closing his lips around one of your nipples, he sucks strongly, pulling a whimper from your throat.

“Thought you could be quiet, doll?” he rasps, raising an eyebrow as he looks up at you from your sternum.

Nodding furiously, you pout your lower lip out, whispering back, “I can be, I will be. I promise.”

“You promise? Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Joel stands up straight, pulling you with him to press against his torso. Catching your lips in a deep kiss, Joel breathes a sigh into your mouth, melting his tongue against yours and drinking in the taste of you.

Dripping with saccharine sugar. Coated with syrupy goodness, plump and succulent like a maraschino cherry. A toothache, or maybe even a heartache waiting to happen.

He’s fucking screwed, but damn if it doesn’t feel good as he nails himself to his own persecution from whoever may find out about this.

Handfuls of your undulating curves fill his palms as he kisses you, groaning into your mouth as he grabs at the swell of your ass. Silky satin brushes against his hand, reminding him of the other part of his present to unwrap. Pulling away from your mouth with one last lick of your candied taste, he has the mind to imagine what the rest of your flavors all across your body might be.

Joel turns you in his arms, back flush to his chest as he grinds his bulge against the lustrous fabric, smirking to himself as you whimper quietly, so hushed he can barely hear it over his heartbeat thudding in his ears. Lips coast over the shell of your ear, nibbling your lobe before pressing a kiss right below.

“Can I undo your other pretty bow, babygirl? Unwrap the rest of my present?” Joel nips again when you breathe out consent. He walks you closer to the bed, hitting your knees against the frame before he takes one step back, touch still lingering on your skin. From behind you, he sighs appreciatively as he drinks in your form, licking his lips as his eyes devour you.

Pinching the ribbon between his thick fingers, he flicks it against your skin, satisfied with the way you react with goosebumps raised. One gentle tug unravels it all, exposing your cheeks to him fully and with the drop of the material from between his fingertips, your panties fall to the floor. One hand wrapping around your thigh, Joel coaxes you to step out to the side with it, kicking the fabric from your ankle.

He kneels behind you, pressing his lips against the swell of your ass. Flooded with the scent of your skin, vanilla and cinnamon, the smell of Christmas. Nose smashed into the supple flesh, teeth sinking into the curve, a gentle bite stealing another taste of you. A curse is mumbled against you, a sweet kiss pressed on the tiny birthmark on your ass, tongue tracing into the fading bite mark.

“Joel…” you whine above him, hand reaching back and nimble fingers tangling into his messy, gray curls.

“I know, doll. Got lost there for a second. You’re so perfect…”

He sighs again, standing up with a quiet crack in his joints. A blatant reminder of the difference between you two. Young versus old. Sprightly versus verging on doddering. Even if he is eager, there’s no denying the difference.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Joel’s about to be more of a gift to you than you are to him. The way he’s touching you, delicate worship before he’s even gotten to what he truly wants, taking his time despite the pressure of the party downstairs. Serves as a reassurance that he wants this as much as you do, wants to take his sweet time if this is going to be his only chance.

You pray to god it isn’t. Even before you’ve even laid eyes on his cock, you just know. He’s going to fuck you senseless. Ruin every other man for you.

In a blur, he guides you to fall forward onto the mattress, hooking fingers to remove your panties from your other ankle while you scoot toward the center. He finds solace between your legs, propping your hips up into a kneeling position to give him easier leverage.

“Think this might be my favorite present I’ve been given, doll. So fucking gorgeous. Looking delectable…Can I have a taste, darling? You as sweet as you seem?”

Your head is turned sideways, laying against the plush comforter, opening your mouth to whisper to him in the same moment he swipes his tongue through your folds, groaning into your inner thigh before he dives back in, working to devour you like a man starved, quenching his thirst on your arousal. Flicking his tongue against your pearl, coated in your translucence, suckling at it with pure need. Turning to press the front of your face into your bedding, it muffles your moans and whines, raising in pitch as he fucks your tight cunt with his strong tongue, lapping at you with the same fervor he’d lick the color from a candy cane.

“Fuck, Joel, fuck fuck fuck!” you shout in a scouring voice, scratching your vocal chords together with a strain. Curling your fingers into the softened, washed fabric, you gasp when one of his solid fingers slips into your walls. He groans, holding back his louder reaction to your gripping walls, hypnotized by the way you even stretch around his fingers when he adds another.

Head against your thigh, he studies the way you take his middle and ring fingers, the velvety slick of your pussy, and the spongy spot he finds, curling his digits to press into it and watch you squirm helplessly from the sensitive pleasure.

“Talkin’ all well mannered and pretty. So quiet and polite all the time. With your ‘yes’sir’s and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s. You think about saying those to me while you’re under me like this?”

“Yes, yes’sir. All the fucking time. Every time I—I looked at you, felt myself…felt myself gettin’ so fucking wet. Was always dripping around you, waiting for something to happen. For you to take me so I can be a good girl for you, sir,” you confess, obedience and need sitting every word so prettily into his ears. “M’so—Fuck m’gonna come, Joel.”

He nods slowly, taking last looks at your cunt before he moves his fingers in and out quicker, dipping his chin down for his mouth to find your clit against, lapping at your dripping wetness and sucking hard. At the next press of his fingers against that spot inside of you, your vision grows blurred, white haze painting everything with a dreamlike filter. You bite into the linen fabric of your comforter, gagging yourself to keep quiet as you come, digging the balls of your feet to the mattress to push yourself away from Joel who continues to work you through it. He grabs at you, tugging you back to get his fill until you sob, overstimulation drawing tears up to the corners of your eyes.

“All kept and composed and ladylike. Been taught to behave, haven’t you? Bet you fucking love to be such a little slut. Anybody ever let you? Such a dirty girl, aren’t you, babydoll?” Joel’s voice sounds distanced at first, senses falling back into place in your body as you come down completely. His work-worn hands coast over your body, roughening against your soft skin like sandpaper moving with the grain. Little resistance but catching in places it favors.

“Just—Just for you, Daddy.” It slips out smoothly from your mouth, the weight of the title heavy against your tongue in the same way you imagine his cock would feel. Filling. Satisfying.

Joel rises slowly from where he’s bent behind you, letting one leg fall behind him as he stands, the other propped on the bed. His eyes narrow in on yours, lips parted and tongue darting out as he replays what you said.

Daddy.

First, you’re already on his mind and years younger, yet he couldn’t stop picturing you in this exact position. Next, you’re the one to make the first move, dragging him away from this Christmas party and presenting him with a Secret Santa gift that feels way out of the budget. You’re priceless. And now, you’re laid out for him, already nearly at the level of fucked out from him only using his mouth and fingers, and you’re fucking calling him Daddy.

Best Christmas of his goddamn life.

“Now, darlin’, were you saving that to be the cherry on top of the cake? ‘Cause that’s just about the sweetest thing. My pretty lil’ babydoll saying she’s Daddy’s dirty girl,” he scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head while his fingers work his button open on his jeans, dragging the zipper down against his throbbing bulge. “Gonna have to be quiet, yeah? Gotta keep your sweet mouth closed while Daddy fucks you, doll.”

“I’ll be quiet, promise. Please, Daddy.” Your pleas widen Joel’s smirk, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips once again. He pushes his denim down with his cotton boxers in their wake, sighing softly when his hard cock is fully freed. His tip is aching and red, leaking precum and leaving a wet spot on his underwear. With one hand, he starts to slowly stroke himself, holding in a moan enough that it leaves his lips as a soft exhale.

“Good girl…” he mumbles, studying your form. “Move back toward me, babygirl. Hands behind your back.”

Complying with his direction, you inch back until Joel places a hand on your lower back. At that, you lay forward again, the side of your face pressing against the duvet as Joel steps back from the bed and searches the floor. A dribble of drool drips from the corner of your lips as you watch him, one large hand around his cock, spreading his precum along his length. Part of you has the mind to beg for him in your mouth, to completely disregard the need pulsating your cunt at the moment, and to feel his warm spend coating your throat as he finishes fucking it.

But you’re fucking selfish. This is also a gift for you, so win-win.

Pressing your wrists together at your lower back, you observe as Joel locates what he is looking for, standing up with a devilish smirk. Your panties.

He towers over you again when he steps back to you, one hand coasting over the curve of your ass, a gentle smack delivered that makes a quiet yelp escape from your lips. The same hand skims back up your skin, easily grabbing both of your wrists in his long fingers and holding them closer while he slips the silky material behind. In a quick motion, he has your arms tied together with a bow, a content smile on his face as he makes eye contact with you.

“Wrapped all up again, babydoll. Such a pretty gift for me.”

“Well you’ve got a pretty package, Daddy,” you reply with a mischievous giggle, earning a breathy chuckle from Joel behind you. He grips the knot of your makeshift restraint, tugging taut to arch your back and pull your hips closer. His other hand wraps around the base of himself, dragging the head of him through your drenched folds, circling your clit, and chuckling again at the jump of your thighs.

“Please, Daddy, I need—” you start pleading, muffled into linen before you’re cut off by the stretch of Joel’s cock filling your tight hole, a gasp escaping your lungs with a punch. Your mouth is stuffed with the duvet from your bite down, nursing your tongue against the material as he slowly presses into you, inch by inch. There’s an ever-so-slight pain candy-coating the pleasure, melting away to get to the gooey, oozing center that spreads over your entire body.

Pausing when he reaches the hilt of himself, Joel sighs, rolling his head back as he internally thanks whatever Christmas magic must be out there for this moment.

“So fucking tight, baby.”

Your dampened whine shoots a wave of intense need throughout him, growling low as he holds your restraint tighter, dragging his hips back before he starts a punishing pace. Control escapes him, desire taking over his actions as he starts to properly fuck you. His cock teaching you how to take every single inch of it.

Messes of his name and your moans are stifled and stuttered into the comforter gagging you, chest hovering over the mattress as Joel holds tight to the knot in your panties.

“Can’t hold back any longer, baby, jus’—fuck—jus’ gonna take Daddy’s cock like a good girl, aren’t ya?” The only precision remains in the soft cracks of skin on skin, not loud enough to draw any attention from the party downstairs. Poppy carols play faintly in the background, the only other soundtrack being the vulgar mumbles slipping from Joel’s lips.

Drawing you closer and closer, the edge is tasted on your tongue, so close but barely in reach as the man behind you rocks his hips, the tip of his hard cock brushing that same spongy spot inside of you that he managed to reach with his fingers, bruising into your cervix with each snap.

At the next drag-out, Joel pulls away from you completely. When you whine with protest, he’s tugging you to stand up on your knees, whispering in your ear amid his quick movements, “Need to see your face when I make you come all over my cock…”

Before you can be left with any thoughts to a response, he’s flipping you onto your back, hands tied still, and tugging you near again. He steals a pillow from the top of your bed, shoving it under your hips to lift your pelvis, gifting himself the perfect angle to thrust into you again from the height he stands at.

The new angle punches out moans from your chest, Joel’s name littering the empty room as you try so hard to remain quiet.

“Shh, I know, doll, I know. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? Y’love bein’ Daddy’s little slut.” Nodding furiously, another louder moan leaves your mouth, brows knit together with worry as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge.

A large palm moves to cover your mouth, shaking his head slowly to remind you of your promise to be his good girl, his quiet girl.

“Pleasepleaseplease, Daddy…” He feels the vibrations of your voice against his hand, the words muddled into slight nonsense from pleasure clouding your brain. Joel holds onto one of your legs, pulling it up to hook onto his shoulder and press forward to get deeper inside of you. The switch has you screaming into his palm, eyes squeezing shut as you squirm under him.

“Eyes on me, babygirl. Keep your eyes on Daddy.”

Joel’s hips pound into you, chasing his own climax. Your eyes snap open at his instruction, mouthing at his hand and moaning loudly behind it, nodding your head furiously. Your tight walls squeeze around his hard cock, his grunts held back to keep quiet despite the noise of the party downstairs growing in volume.

“Come on, doll. Come on my cock…Fuck, you gonna let Daddy fill up your pretty little cunt?” The quick, speechless nods answers his question, both of you toeing the edge.

There’s a moment when both of you seize up, muscles tense and eyes burning into each other’s. It only lasts a split second before it explodes with a pop, at the same second a champagne bottle pops downstairs. Joel breathes out your name, over and over, mingling with your whimpers of his name and Daddy switching back and forth in your mind. Interchangeable to you.

Pleasure fizzes over your bodies like bubbles in the flutes being filled, the bubbling aerations trickling up up up to your head, making you feel lighter than air as pure bliss overwhelms you. Tingles aftershock across your nerves, a shiver sent down your spine as Joel pulls out.

Quietly, he groans as he watches his excess spend drip out of you, mixing with your come and glistening against your folds. One thick finger swipes at the spot, pushing the swirl of you back inside of your walls.

A soft whimper slips from your lips and Joel’s eyes meet yours in a flash, a gentle smile stretching across your face. He coaxes you to sit up and unties your hands behind your back, slowly massaging your wrists with his thumbs and kissing where the skin rubbed against the fabric. The tender touches accompany the soothing, comfortable silence.

Redressing you, Joel attempts to tie the bows of your bra and panties, huffing softly in frustration. You giggle when he’s working on your bra, taking his chin gingerly between your fingers and turning his head to look at you. Leaning in, his lips catch yours in a sweet, sugary gumdrop kiss.

It’s another moment before both of you are fully dressed again. You study yourself in the mirror above your dresser, smoothing your hair down. Joel steps up behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and kissing your shoulder through the knit sweater. He turns you around to face him again, grinning shyly as his eyes comb over your face.

The two of you share another kiss, his calloused hand cradling your cheek when he pulls away.

“You gonna be under my tree again on Christmas day, doll?”

“Depends…Were you naughty or nice this year?” you counter, earning a quiet laugh from Joel as he shakes his head.

“Think what just happened has put me on the naughty list for a long time, babygirl. And you, too.” He shoots you a cheeky wink and you laugh, shaking your head as you lock your fingers together in front of you.

“I did actually get you something though…” you admit shyly, rocking back and forth on the heels of your feet.

Joel grins, eyes flicking down to your anxious hands. His thumb brushes against the skin of your cheek, eyes meeting yours again as he replies, “You have another gift for me? Didn’t need to do that, doll.”

“I mean…Kinda needed a backup plan if this whole thing didn’t work out.” A chuckle is shared between both of you before you continue, “Sorry for spoiling the whole guessing game of Secret Santa.”

“Darlin’, you could spoil any games for me if it ends up with this kinda surprise.” Joel smirks before stealing another quick kiss, pulling away when you step back to fish out the small, meticulously wrapped giftbox from the top right drawer of your dresser.

Handing over the square package, Joel’s eyes glitter with boyish excitement. The corner of his mouth pulls up to one side while his thick fingers slip under the creases of the paper to rip the tape, undoing the festive wrapping to reveal the lidded giftbox that he opens quickly. Inside, Joel studies the contents. Small triangles with rounded corners made from thin nylon plastic. A deep emerald green, all sitting like precious gemstones. His initials are branded into one side with gold paint, the flip side emblemed with the silhouette of an owl.

“Sweetheart…Thank you. These are real nice…” he speaks softly while he picks one up between his index and thumb, turning it between the tips of his fingers. “They’re perfect. Gonna be sad if I end up losing one of these like all my other picks.”

You smile sweetly, stepping closer again and resting your hands on his biceps, “Guess you’ll have to take good care of ‘em.”

As he looks at you, he mirrors your smile, sharing one more gentle kiss before whispering against your lips, “Can think of another something I have to take good care of.”

taglist: @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @b00klvrs @burningnerdchild

#joel #writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #tlou fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tw daddy kink #cw daddy kink

3K notes · View notes

tarisbackyard · 1 month

Text

Here's how to write an authentic Grimm style fairytale, brought to you by a Certified German TM:

Forget everything Disney movies taught you, besides maybe Snowwhite, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty. But even those are on thin fucking ice. Also ignore modern fantasy literature conventions, especially Dungeons & Dragons type stuff.

Ideally only the protagonist or none of the characters ought to have names. And the names should either be really fucking ordinary, or some kind of epithet. Like, either that's a Franz or a Bramblesock, cause when Bramblesock was a child he lost a sock in a shrub of brambles. Everyone else is either the king, the grandma, or the carpenter.

The common types of protagonist: Regular working class guy who cons his way into a life of riches, poor downtrodden peasant who through hardworking kindness is granted salvation (usually via gaining riches), too pure too good for this world princess who can't catch a fucking break, too nasty too bratty for this world princess who gets taught a lesson in humility.

The characters are generally very one note and the only kind of character growth they can experience boils down to "maybe I shouldn't have been a dick, huh?"

The location is either as vague as possible or super fucking specific for no reason; either the story takes place literally nowhere or in the town of Buxtehude.

Animals and inanimate objects that can talk for no apparent reason and no one bats an eye at are always a great addition.

If you want to add any fantasy races, use giants (large, dumb brutes), dwarves (angry little guys who live in the wilderness and get really angry if you touch their beards), or gnomes (mischievous house spirits who might be helpful but watch out!), but never more than one of these. Fairies are rare and usually the "tall beautiful wise woman" type, not the small annoying pixie type. Dragons are very pointedly no-where to be found, those distinctly belong in sagas, which are their own distinct type of literature.

Weird moral of the story that either boils down to "be smarter than all the other fuckers", "good things happen to good people, bad things happen to bad people", or "don't upset the supernatural".

Random tidbits of gore that no one bats an eye at.

Witches eat children, if a mother gets more than single line dedicated to her she's evil, fathers are spineless and/or assholes who either die or come around in the end.

Ugly means evil, pretty means good. Except when it doesn't.

Optional: Repeated rhyming phrases and numbers. Seventh son of a seventh son kinda stuff. The numbers 3, 7, 12, and 13 in particular.

Ideally a 19th century scholar should be able to read some clumsy Germanic pagan wishful thinking into the story, no matter how big and obvious the Christian overtones are.

Optional: Start the story with "Once upon a time" and end it with "And if they didn't die, then they are still alive today."

#writing #fairy tales #fairytales #grimm's fairy tales #gebrüder grimm #brothers grimm #german stuff #writing advice

737 notes · View notes

kitkat-the-muffin · 8 months

Text

Some things I loved about Once Upon A Studio (in no particular order):

Tinkerbell and Mickey interacting as dual mascots

The long-shots following characters through the studio (most notably from Peter Pan to Moana)

TREASURE FREAKIN PLANET

Everyone in that elevator was a character with little patience

The robot from Meet the Robinsons! I forgot his name 🥲

MILO THATCH FROM ATLANTIS

Gaston singing to himself about himself

The Mad Hatter making puns

Tiana correcting Pinocchio that the photo was happening right now and not tonight

Prince Charming losing his shoe on the staircase

Prince Eric’s dog stealing Prince Charming’s shoe and Charming yelled “Eric! Get your dog!”

Cinderella shouting “go Max go!”

Jiminy Cricket being the last solo during the group cover of When You Wish Upon A Star

The first Disney Princess singing with the last Disney Princess (and also Mulan who represents the middle of the Disney Renaissance)

Feed The Birds from Mary Poppins playing in the background of Mickey looking at Walt’s photo 🥲

Mickey saying “After you” to Oswald the Lucky Rabbit (Oswald was Walt’s first character, so everyone in this lineup came “After Oswald,” including Mickey)

DID I MENTION TREASURE FREAKIN PLANET BTW

Belle and Beast singing together 💕

Winnie The Pooh!!!! And all his friends of course!

Don’t think I didn’t see those Black Cauldron characters lol

The 101 Dalmatians watching that one Chernabog animation and being warned that they’ll get nightmares XD

Kronk

Quasimodo’s beautiful singing voice

Minnie covering her eyes in the boy’s bathroom

The dog from Oliver & Company (I forgot his name 🥲) driving around with Vanellope

Tarzan and Jane!

KIDA FROM ATLANTIS

Timon calling Olaf “frosty”

Genie helping Olaf while making a joke (🙏 Robin Williams)

Lucille from Meet the Robinsons drinking coffee with the tea gang (that Cogsworth was berating)

BOLT! :D (you can also see Penny in the crowd at the end)

The brooms from Fantasia!

THE SKELETONS FROM SKELETON DANCE

Absolutely zero Pixar characters 😔 this is a Disney Only event

There’s a LOT to talk about in this short but this is just a simple list of things that I really liked :3

I hope someone on YouTube makes a list of every cameo cause I wanna see them all identified

Also I didn’t see any references to A Goofy Movie so if anyone happens to find Powerline in the crowd or something lemmie know

Edit: I’ve been informed that A Goofy Movie was straight-to-DVD and therefore doesn’t qualify as real Disney 😔

#disney #once upon a studio #disney100 #disney 100 #oswald the lucky rabbit #<- the only character I’m tagging

1K notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol.

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name.

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?”

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.”

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.”

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly.

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!”

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. ��I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?”

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right.

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath.

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down.

So, he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head.

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door.

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher.

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely.

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you.

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck.

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity.

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st.

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween.

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today.

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm.

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container.

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules.

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago.

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation.

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing.

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply.

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone.

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words.

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did.

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am.

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.”

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @theactualf0ck @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights @eggo-segual @rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @luceneraium @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @imaginexred @haylaansmi @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @stevesmunson @hiscrimsonangel @ffrvtvt @mrsjellymunson @idkatee @quentinswife

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

2K notes · View notes

seonghrtz · 1 month

Text

𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ nanami kento

꒰ first sight ! ꒱ an invitation to a palace ball gives a young woman hope of reuniting with the dashing stranger she met in the woods.

❛❛ an unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more. ❜❜

pairing. prince!nanami kento x (cinderella)fem!reader.

contents. cinderella alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, mentions of death, occ nanami.

amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this story was more inspired by the cinderella live action movie (2015). i love this movie and have watched it so many times with my mom that i know it by heart hihihi. also, i had to include the iconic scenes of cinderella and the prince in the garden and the stepmother breaking the crystal slipper!!! and one quote from jane austen's pride and prejudice. in short, just nanami being the prince we deserve!!! i hope you enjoy it and have a good read <3

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, there was a beautiful, sweet girl called Y/n. This little girl lived a quiet life with her family. Her father was a merchant who traveled frequently and her mother stayed at home, due to her fragile health, teaching her daughter and taking care of her. Although it was a simple life, Y/n was happy and that was enough for her.

However, fate doesn't always have a happy ending for everyone, and her mother eventually passed away due to health complications. And with her last breath, she wished that her daughter would always be kind and gentle, that she would have courage and always want to do good, even when evil tries to prevail. And Y/n promised her mother that her kindness would prevail in the most difficult moments of her life and that she would live a good life.

Not long after her mother's death, the girl's father decided to remarry, looking for a way for his daughter to have a mother figure, not to replace her biological mother, but someone who could be by her side when he couldn't be. Things didn't go well in the family, her stepmother and stepsisters were mean and abusive, taking advantage of her kindness when her father was away on business. And then everything fell apart when the girl's father had an accident on one of his trips and died, leaving his daughter at the mercy of her stepmother and stepsisters' selfish will.

Y/n was reduced to a maid instead of a family member. She was moved from her room to the attic and had to do the housework, washing and cooking all day. She watched as everything her mother believed in and liked gradually disappeared, while things became more her stepmother's style.

One day, tired of everything, the young woman rode into the forest. The wind in her hair and the tears drying on her face felt a little liberating. That same day, she crossed paths with a young man named Kento, who wasn't having his best day either.

An unlikely encounter in the woods between two desperate souls led to the blossoming of a beautiful friendship ⸻ or perhaps something more.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n awoke with the sunrise. After years, the young woman had become accustomed to the routine and every morning she rose early to prepare breakfast for her stepmother and stepsisters and then set about cleaning the house. At the very least, doing the chores around the house kept her mind busy.

Just as she was preparing the materials to clean the house, a knock on the front door echoed throughout the house. Y/n left the bucket of water she was holding in a corner and went to the door, surprised by the sudden visit. It was too early for people to leave their homes, and the postman had come the day before.

"Good morning" the young woman smiled politely at the stranger in front of her "What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, miss." The young man fumbled with the bag hanging next to his body and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to the young woman. Y/n took the envelope and watched as the boy said goodbye and walked away without saying another word.

The young woman looked surprised, but shrugged her shoulders. She made her way to the pantry where her stepmother was having breakfast and asked to be excused before entering the room.

"What did I say about coming into the living room while I'm having breakfast?" her stepmother said with a harsh tone.

"Excuse me, but a boy just came by and left this envelope." The young woman placed the envelope on the table and walked away, watching as her stepmother picked it up and opened it.

Y/n waited for a reaction and was startled when the older woman in front of her suddenly stood up from the breakfast table and gave several quick and shouting orders.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, GO WAKE UP MY DAUGHTERS! WE HAVE A ROYAL BALL TO ATTEND AND WE NEED THE BEST DRESSES!”

"A royal ball?" she asked confused.

"The King is giving a ball to find a wife for his son, who will inherit the kingdom, now run along because I need to go into town to find the three best dresses in town! One of my daughters is coming back married that night!"

"Oh, ma'am, that's very kind of you!"

"What?" The stepmother put her hands on her waist.

"The dress..."

"Oh dear, and who says the dress is for you?" the older woman laughed with glee, "Two will be for my beautiful daughters and the other will be for me, I will not spend my money to buy something for you to wear to the ball."

"But could I go to the ball?" she asked hopefully.

"Um..." the stepmother looked the young woman up and down, "If you've done all your chores for the day and have a dress, maybe you could go."

"Ah, thank you, ma'am!" Y/n smiled excitedly at the idea of going to a royal ball.

"Now go wake up my daughters!"

After waking her step-sisters, the young woman watched as the house descended into chaos. The two sisters screamed excitedly at the idea of the royal ball, while their stepmother ordered them to go to the city. Y/n felt true peace only when the house was deserted, just her and the animals in it. And without further ado, the young woman smiled to herself and ran to the stable. Luckily, her stepmother had left just when she had a secret appointment.

On the day she received the news of her father's death, and on the same day she rode aimlessly into the forest, Y/n had met Kento, a young man who had happened to receive tragic news and had ridden into the forest to relax. After the unexpected meeting, the young woman and the man agreed to meet every day in the same place at the same time to talk about their tragedies and successes. However, Y/n had kept these meetings secret, afraid that if her stepmother found out, she would forbid her to meet the boy she knew so little about.

With a slight smile on her face, the young woman rode to the meeting point and was surprised to see Kento waiting for her. Usually, she was the first to arrive, but the euphoria over the news of the ball had delayed her a few minutes.

"Miss." Kento smiled at the sight of her and helped her off the horse.

"Ken, I'm sorry I'm late!" she said, smoothing down the unruly strands that had been messed up by the wind "The invitation to the royal ball ended up stirring things up at home."

"Speaking of the royal ball, will you be attending?" Kento tried to hide the slight hint of hope in his words.

"I still have my doubts about that," she sighed, sitting down on a log next to her horse. "My stepmother said that if I managed to finish all my chores for the day, and if I had a dress, I could go to the ball."

"If they treat you like that, why don't you leave?"

"It's not that easy...not to mention that it's not that bad, other places can be more hostile."

"I see..." the young man sits down next to the woman, "I'd like you to go to the ball so we can have at least one dance.”

The young man's words made her laugh.

"Then I hope you'll save a dance for me."

"I'm saving all the dances for you, you're the only one I want to dance with on the ball night." Kento's words made Y/n feel shy.

"I think there will be many more interesting ladies to dance with." The young woman shifted her gaze to the trees that made up the scenery around her.

"I have no interest in other ladies, none of them can compare to you."

"Kento! You shouldn't say that!"

"Why not? My mother taught me to be honest and I'm just telling the truth," a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't be so direct with your honesty..." The young woman's face burned at the statement of the man next to her.

"Well, I wish you'd come to the ball so we could see each other outside of this forest for once."

"And dance the night away?" she laughed lightly.

"And dance the night away," Kento repeated her question, but this time as a concrete statement, leaving no doubt about his intentions with the young woman on the night of the royal ball.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

If Y/n said she didn't expect her stepmother and stepsisters to make her day the busiest of her life, running around doing chores and being responsible for every little detail of the preparations for the royal ball, she would be lying.

She'd woken up earlier than usual to get her mother's gown ready for the royal ball, but it wasn't long before her stepmother started barking orders, causing her gown to be forgotten. Cleaning the stairs, feeding the animals in the barn, helping her step-sisters put on their huge, garish party dresses, helping them fix their hair... among other things, Y/n had no time to finish her own dress.

Perhaps her meeting with Kento should only take place in the forest, hidden in secret. There would be no other way, not if her stepmother still had the power to dictate orders and interfere in her life as if she couldn't make her own decisions.

When she finished climbing the stairs that led to the attic where her bedroom had become, the young girl was surprised to open the door and find her mother's dress mended, brand new.

"How…?" Y/n approached the dress, delighted, "Oh, it doesn't matter, thank you to whoever made it!" She smiled excitedly, now she could meet Kento and dance with him all night, just as she had said she would if she could attend the ball.

The young woman took a quick shower to get ready for the ball. There wasn't much to prepare, she fixed her dress to her body, put on her pink shoes with low heels, applied pink lipstick and put on her mother's pearl necklace before fixing her hair. She didn't have much, just as she didn't need much. Y/n was just happy to be at the ball and to have the opportunity to meet her friend. And she preferred to keep it simple.

But her happiness was short-lived...

When she came down to the parlor just as her stepmother and daughters were about to leave for the ball. Looking at the girl in her ball gown, with a happy expression on her face, Madame Tremaine saw the perfect moment to break her like fragile old porcelain.

"What's that?" Her stepmother's superior look didn't intimidate Y/n.

"I'm ready to go to the royal ball!"

"You? The ball?" Drizella laughed anasally, "But not even on the day the pigs fly!"

"Mom, I don't want to be seen with the maid! Look at these rags! They don't even compare to our fancy dresses!" Anastasia commented, looking up and down at the young woman in front of her.

"But you promised I could go if I had a dress and finished my homework," the young woman said, remembering the agreement they had made when they were invited to the ball.

"I don't remember promising you anything," Tremaine circled Y/n like a predator circles its prey. "You must have misunderstood, my dear. Never in my life would I go to such an important ball with a filthy, ridiculous little girl like you." The woman held the young woman's chin tightly, forcing her to look into her cold, hateful eyes.

"I don't understand... I've never done anything to you..." Y/n mumbled, her eyes watering as much from the force her stepmother put on her jaw as from the words spoken to her.

"You're an insignificant, annoying little thing, you know that?" Tremaine let go of Y/n's chin and smiled sideways before reaching for the pearl necklace that adorned the young woman's neck and ripping it off with her own hand, startling her. "Oops!" the woman smiled as she tore the sleeve and front of the dress, making her daughters laugh at the scene and help their mother destroy the dress, "Come on girls, we can't be late for the ball.”

Y/n felt her body shake, and when they were gone, the young woman ran quickly, sobbing, to the garden ⸻ the place where she had so many memories with her family, with her mother, and which Tremaine had never been able to change. She sat down on a bench and began to cry, not just for what had happened a few moments ago, but for everything she had been through these past few years without her family.

"But what is a beautiful girl doing crying instead of having fun at the ball?" The voice of a mysterious person startled Y/n, who was trapped in her own world of memories.

"Who... Who are you?" The young woman looked up, startled, and rubbed her eyes to wipe away the tears.

"Your fairy godmother, dear! Or rather, your Fairy Godfather!"

"What?" The young woman looked at the person before her. He was tall, with white hair, blue eyes hidden behind glasses, and a pair of large shiny wings.

"You can call me Gojo if you prefer, now come on, hurry up, we have a ball to attend!" Gojo said hurriedly, pulling Y/n to get up from the bench.

"But I can't go to the ball like this!"

"What do you mean?" His glasses slipped down his nose.

"My dress is torn, I can't go like this."

"And why didn't you say so before?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, "Do you mind a few casual changes?" He pulled his wand from his pocket and smiled when he saw the young woman nod, "Then let's go!"

Gojo scratched his throat before dictating the dress, which completely transformed. The pink quickly turned to blue, and the single layer became several. The dress became voluminous, shiny and elegant, fit for a princess ⸻ and Y/n couldn't help but feel like one in that wonderful dress.

"Let me see your feet," Gojo ordered.

"What? My feet? Why do you want to see my feet?"

"Are you crazy thinking I won't do my full job? You need a proper shoe for that dress!"

Without questioning the fairy, Y/n lifted the hem of her dress to reveal her pink shoes, which in less than a few seconds had been transformed into a beautiful pair of crystal heels.

"Are they crystal?" the young woman asked in shock.

"The real question is, why not crystal? It's just a little gift, honey," Gojo smiled sideways, "Now hurry up, or you'll miss the first dance! Do you have any pumpkins?"

"Pumpkin? There are some over there." Y/n pointed to one of the corners of the garden.

"Wonderful. We have a pumpkin and some mice, perfect for a carriage and its horses." Gojo smiled proudly before casting another spell, transforming the pumpkin into a huge, detailed carriage and the nearby mice into majestic horses, "Now let's go, you can't be late!" He pulled Y/n into the carriage.

"But what about my stepmother and my step-sisters? They'll recognize me when they see me at the ball!"

"Don't worry about that!" Gojo tapped the young girl's head with his wand, "And remember, sweetie, all this magic here will only last until midnight, no longer."

"Until midnight?" Y/n smiled sweetly, "That's long enough, I don't need more than that. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"No thanks, sweetie, I'm your fairy godfather, it's just my job. Now go to the ball and have fun, break it out!"

"All right!" Y/n laughed, "Thanks again!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

Y/n was late.

She realized this when she finished climbing the endless stairs that led to the entrance of the ballroom and found the doors closed.

The young woman took a deep breath before opening the doors, allowing a glimpse of the stairs that would lead to the dance floor and where the other guests were gathered. She bowed when she saw the king on a throne at the top of the hall and walked quietly down the stairs, but the people began to spread out, forming a corridor from one side of the hall to the other.

Noticing the person on the other side, the young woman smiled and walked excitedly toward the person in the middle of the hall.

"Ken," Y/n smiled at the sight of the blonde.

"You came." Kento smiled, lost in the beauty of the woman before him.

"You promised me a dance," she smiled at the memory of their last encounter in the forest.

"Then I would like... I mean... allow me the greatest of pleasures by granting me the honor of letting you lead this... first..."

"Dance?" the young woman said, completing the prince's request.

"Yes, dance." Kento smiled awkwardly with a blush on his cheeks and ears as he saw the woman before him nod in agreement.

Gently pulling her by the waist and holding one of her hands, Kento led the dance as soon as the music began, whirling her around the hall. The young prince held her tightly, afraid that this moment would be one of his dreams, for he had found her fragile in the forest at a time when his own heart was fragile.

"Everyone is looking at you." Y/n mumbled sheepishly as she noticed the eyes of the guests watching them dance around the ballroom.

"You couldn't be more wrong." Kento laughed slightly, "They're looking at you."

When the music for the first dance ended, there was no waiting for the next dance to begin. Soon, the ballroom floor was filled with couples happily dancing to the lively music of the orchestra.

"Come with me." Kento whispered in Y/n's ear and led her out of the room.

"So... you're the prince?" The young woman asked even though it was as obvious as sunlight. She wanted an excuse to strike up a conversation as they walked to wherever Kento wanted to take her.

"Not the Prince, but one of the princes that exist in the world," Kento said awkwardly, "There are several... not just me..."

"But aren't you an apprentice, as you told me when we first met?"

"Yes, I'm an apprentice monarch who is still learning his trade." Nanami's words made Y/n laugh briefly, "First of all, I should apologize. Please forgive me for my lies, I imagined you would treat me differently if you knew I was the prince of these lands, I thought you were a good honest girl and now I have proof that you really are."

"So... no more surprises?" the young woman asks the boy, holding out her hand and showing him her little finger.

"No more surprises." Kento gently intertwined his little finger with the young woman's, wishing the world could stop right then and there. "This way, I promise we'll be right there," he said as he led her through the castle's vast garden.

"Won't they miss you at the ball?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, "but I'm not planning on going back just yet."

"Is there a problem?"

“If I go back now, they'll try to push me towards a lady of their choosing." Nanami said dejectedly, maybe he didn't want to talk about his problems, not on such a magical night. "They want me to marry for advantage.”

"Well, I think you should rule your heart," the young woman said with a slight smile.

"Perhaps, but I must listen to and obey the king's wishes."

"He's your father, Kento, I'm sure he'll understand your point of view, you just need the right time"

"I've never shown this place to anyone before," Kento said, changing the subject when they reached the spot he wanted to show the young woman. "It's a secret garden, I thought you might like it.”

"I love it!" Y/n smiled as she explored the area until she came to a swing attached to a tree.

"Please," the young prince said, motioning for her to sit on the swing as soon as he noticed her gaze.

"I don't know if I should," the young woman said shyly.

"Yes, you should."

"No, I shouldn't."

"Yes, you should."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Okay." She shrugged, gave in and sat down on the swing, and Nanami soon began to push her gently.

Y/n had as much fun as Nanami. They'd never met outside the confines of the forest, and even after so many surprises that beautiful night, they couldn't help but feel the magic ⸻ and love ⸻ in the air. There, at that moment, Nanami Kento wasn't a prince about to be thrown to the first rich princess who would sign a contract favorable to the kingdoms, and Y/n wasn't the maid of her stepmother and stepsisters who was constantly being abused. They were just themselves, without their titles, without what defined them, they were just two souls in love, enjoying the time they had left.

When Y/n's crystal shoe accidentally came off her foot, Nanami quickly stopped pushing her on the swing and crouched down in front of her, taking the shoe in his hands. He held up the hem of her dress, revealing Y/n's bare foot, and gently picked it up to put the shoe back on her foot.

"Is it crystal?" Nanami's hand, holding the young woman's foot, unconsciously patted her ankle.

"And why wouldn't it be?" she said gracefully, "Thank you."

"Y/n... would you accept..." The young prince's speech was cut short as the clock struck midnight.

"It's midnight..." The young woman got up from the swing, causing Nanami to get up with her in fright. "I have to go!"

"Wait!" Nanami watched as the young woman hurried past the exit of the garden. "Why do you have to go now?"

"Your Royal Highness is very kind, thank you for the wonderful evening," she said as she walked in quick steps, "I will never forget every second we spent together, it was magical. And who knows, maybe we can meet again in the forest."

"Why are you in such a hurry?"

"It's hard to explain! But I promise we'll meet again!" Y/n smiled as she ran frantically.

"Y/n! Where are you going?" Kento ran after the young woman, but unfortunately, there were several obstacles in his way. It was as if the universe didn't want him to reach her at this moment.

As she descended the castle's long staircase to the exit gates, she lost one of her crystal slippers on one of the steps. Fearing the final chime of the clock, the young woman left the shoe behind, believing that its magic would eventually fade, and it would be nothing more than a lost heel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

All the magic vanished when Y/n arrived home, leaving only her little crystal shoe on her foot. The young woman bent down and picked up the only remaining shoe ⸻ since she had lost the other pair ⸻ and smiled as she looked at the shoe in her hands. The fact that it was there proved that it hadn't been a dream, but a real event.

Y/n went up to the attic and on a loose floor ⸻ where she kept some of her mother's things ⸻ she put on the crystal slipper. She knew deep down that something bad would happen if her stepmother found out that she hadn't just gone to the ball, but had danced with the prince.

Ah, the prince.

Not even in her wildest dreams would the young girl imagined that the boy she had met in the forest, and who had been meeting her at the same place at the same time ever since, was actually the prince, the future king, of the kingdom where she lived.

Kento had always been polite and kind to her, always willing to listen and talk about anything. He was already the man of every girl's dreams, and now that she knew his status, it had only been confirmed ⸻ but Y/n didn't want him because of his status

However, apparently he would only remain in her dreams...

The next day, Y/n went back to her routine as if the night before had never happened. She woke up early, prepared the food, took care of the animals in the stable, cleaned the house... Nothing was different, except for her memories and the hidden crystal slipper.

When her step-sisters finally gave her a break and spared her from hearing about the men who had danced at the ball and how a young girl in a blue dress had dared to go straight to the prince after setting foot in the ballroom, Y/n headed for the attic.

In the afternoon, she would go to the forest as usual to meet Kento. The young woman wasn't sure if he would show up that afternoon, but she hoped with all her heart that he would be waiting for her among the trees. As he always did.

As soon as she opened the door to her room, the young woman noticed that some floors were out of place, and when she noticed that her memory box was out of its hiding place, her heart began to beat fast and her palms began to sweat with nervousness.

"Is this what you were looking for?" Tremaine's voice startled Y/n, but her fear was soon replaced by surprise when she saw the slipper in her hand. "Oh dear, don't look so scared. I'm only going to ask you once. From whom did you steal it?"

"I didn't steal it from anyone, it was given to me!"

"Given to you? Oh, for heaven's sake, nothing is ever given, especially to someone like you!"

"I swear it was a gift!"

"So you're going to insist on the lie?" Tremaine let out a bored sigh and walked to the attic exit, tapping Y/n on the shoulder on the way, "Good thing you'll have plenty of time to think... Oh oops!" The woman slammed the crystal slipper into the door frame, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

Y/n's eyes filled with tears as she saw the shattered shoe on the floor, barely noticing Tremaine lock the door. The young woman knelt down and picked up each shard, feeling the tears blur her vision. The first gift she had received after so many years was broken and there was nothing that could fix it. Now only the memories remained.

Y/n sighed, wiped the tears from her eyes with her hands and sat down by the window. She had nowhere else to go, she wouldn't be meeting with Kento like she used to. The only thing she had left were her animal friends to keep her company.

Not long after, the door to the attic was opened, frightening the young woman ⸻ she swore that Tremaine would lock her in there for days, or perhaps just until the next day. But she was soon surprised to see a palace guard instead of her stepmother.

"Miss, please come with me.”

Without saying a word, Y/n followed him down the stairs to the living room. When she reached the living room, she noticed a figure she knew well. His clothes were in perfect condition, with no wrinkles or stains, his blond hair was perfectly styled with not a single strand out of place, and his posture was upright and impeccable. There was no doubt that Nanami Kento was a perfect prince.

"Your Royal Highness," Y/n said, bowing.

"I thought we agreed to treat each other without formalities, Y/n." Nanami turned, his serious expression relaxing slightly as he met the bright eyes of the young woman before him.

"Forgive me." Y/n murmured shyly.

"When you ran away during the ball and didn't show up in the forest as usual, I thought maybe I had disappointed you by revealing my true identity as the prince. I thought maybe I should give you some space, but I couldn't. Your name is engraved on my heart, and you are the only thing that crosses my mind every moment I breathe in and out. Every day I looked forward to seeing you for even a few seconds in the forest, and when you didn't show up today, I felt like my world was about to fall apart. I looked for you all over the kingdom, I went from house to house looking for the owner of the lost crystal slipper, I went to the edge of the forest looking for you. I love you, most ardently. I'm yours with or without the crown". Nanami approached Y/n and held her hand to his chest, making the young woman feel his heart beat faster.

"But Nanami, I'm just a simple farmer's girl, and as much as my heart wants to throw myself into your arms and give myself completely, I don't know if I'm suited for such a responsibility."

"A wise woman once told me that we must rule our own hearts. Please come with me and I will be yours forever.”

"Eternally mine? That doesn't sound so bad..." Y/n murmured, her heartbeat calming down to a feeling that was too good to be true.

"So, what do you say?" Kento smiled slightly.

"I'll be yours, any way you want.”

Then Nanami, overcome by the heat of the moment, passionately kissed the woman of his dreams. The kiss was calm, there was no need to rush, it was tender and addictive.

Y/n smiled as they moved away from each other and felt Kento place something in her hand. The young woman looked down at her hand, noticing the missing pair of her crystal shoes.

"You... you found them," she looked at the shoe in her hands, "I don't have the other pair."

"I can have a thousand crystal shoes made if you want." Nanami said with a serious face, showing that he wasn't joking.

"That won't be necessary." Y/n laughed at his lover's expression. "It's just a reminder that that magical night wasn't just a nice dream."

Kento smiled slightly and hugged Y/n tightly. Finally, after a long time, the girl he had always dreamed of, the girl who had always made his heart race, she would finally be by his side forever, there would be no need for him to run off into the forest, because she would already be within reach.

225 notes · View notes

sleepybbie · 10 months

Text

LET’S EXCHANGE, SHALL WE? | blade x reader

summary: blade helps you finish your mission as a spy with him as your objective by giving you an exchange (he knows) you won’t refuse

assassin!blade x fem!spy!reader

note: f/n - fake name, first time posting smut >.< , porn with plot (it’s a long ride folks), reader calls him ren, (might) ooc blade T^T virginity loss, v*gin*l f*nger*ng, nipple teasing, with proofhead ! cunn*l*ngus, breast groping, hick*ys, hair pulling, it’s reader’s first time ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა blade is down bad for her °ʚ(*´꒳`*)ɞ° lots of praise <3 also teasing, he kinda bullies her :((, fluff at the end ;3 (this fic is based on the manga cinderella x assassin >w< i also imagined how hot assassin!blade is frfr ) hope u cuties enjoy!

a/n: this is my first time writing smut because i am mostly on the fluff side of writing ToT but thanks to some uhh advise from other writings, i hope this is written well :,> english isn’t my first language so forgive me if i had any mistakes here TwT

it was all nothing new. you knew that all too well.

here at the association of blue angels, it is necessary that every spy has their own change of paths that comes across their ways in order for them to fulfil their duties and gain secret information from their clients, whether they are deadly, from aristocratic families, from high positions, or popular idols, it is fundamental that their aim for their prime objective is done and filed back at the organization. no matter who their target was, it was an absolute must you return with new info regarding the end of the view.

it was all nothing new, of how your boss would pick you for every male target, quiet with predatory gaze for women that lurk next to their sides. pretty girls like you will easily win their attention, that’s why they see why you’re perfect to work as a spy at the blue angels. your looks are perfect for the eyes of others, the definition of an eye candy. you knew your job all too well. non-stop praises from your boss whenever you’d return with an info dragged along on your palm, your eyes naively scanning down on the office floor as you mutter out an ‘i’ve returned.’

with different personas you became, brand new names you required in your business; that is what it takes to be a spy in disguise. for you, all of that just to be used as a seducing tool. so much for the title you earned…with these priorities set on to you, you would be forced to fuck your targets afterwards. the organization you were apart of depended on you with these said goals, and that’s the problem they see…

because you were too sheepish to eventually have sex with your objectives, even when asked.

yes, you have the looks to charm them like a siren luring their victims. however you were…too unsophisticated. guileless innocence and purity of a shy teenager. the confidence of seduction is what you lack. no wonder some of your co-workers poke fun at you. the naive y/n, they would murmur to you. but, they had no choice as you were the best spy among your group who can catch the eyes of men in a blink of an eye. set aside your ingeniousness…

it wasn’t like you asked for these missions to be set to you, after all, ever since they noticed your lack of temptation for the people they assigned you to, you were given to more easier victims, someone you won’t have a hard time gaining info from, in easier words someone you would not have to sleep with to collect main enlightenment. this, sounded somewhat as an insult for you. yet, for them, they just think this was for your best to avoid pressure.

‘pressure my ass…i do spy work, not sex work..who do they think they are?’ were the thoughts circulating inside of your head once you were outside of your boss’ office. them seeing your body as the sheer instrument of your skills when out as an undercover, you hated it. you wished they’d return your assignments when your targets were tougher victims. now that you are known in the blue angels association as the girly spy whose looks can kill, there was never going back as your reputation swoons the other workers when the aim is a pervert.

not much long after, your boss had called you into his office to hand over a new mission; following your last successful expedition that had been completed. as your eyes gazed down on the paper he slid on his desk, you slowly read the details for your next objective.

an assassin. a dangerous one to be exact.

“they call him blade, his real name is currently unknown. he works for the stella hunters department, an association filled with menacing assassins, and he’s one of the deadliest among them. find all regarding information about this man, including his weaknesses, and don’t hesitate to swoop in all you can. i’ll be handing this commission over to you, y/n,” is what your boss said, lighting a cigarette whilst looking over the paper that you held on your hands. you couldn’t help but be overjoyed once you heard this responsibility was handed to you, who had been longing for a task like this for so long. you’ll show them, you’ll show how you’re not just the kind of spy who sleeps with their intent. with a smile, you wholeheartedly accepted this work.

so, you put up a new persona, new name, and you were all set. this should be easy, with your looks there may be a chance this person will be beneath your thumb.

oh how right they were when they call you naive y/n..

blade was…scary. though, you managed to make him fall for you after months of trying. and there was this tiny gut feeling inside of you that was saying you were slowly falling for him, too. he was good-looking, fucking handsome. he’s got the stealth of a ninja, as if his presence wasn’t even there at the first place. so far, he is able to startle you whenever. the sword that he swings in his hands were swift, fast, and silent—often drools with the copper scent of velvet liquid. you pretended not to notice since he told you he worked as a bodyguard. the fake name you gave to him, he addresses you as f/n. you think it was convincing enough, after all, you ‘dated’ him for over 3 months now, that was a record. you didn’t quite understand why blade fell for you, in honest speaking; all you knew is that he suddenly asked you out when you both were at a fancy cafe shop he dragged you along with. his red eyes lured you, instead, and that made your heart jump.

surprisingly, blade was quite affectionate. despite being cold to your for the past months, he soon began to open up to you more with his loving antics. ‘cause of that, you were slowly getting weak over his words like some damsel. well, 3 months of dating can end up to something like this happening, although that doesn’t matter for now. your boss was pleased when he heard the news from you.

“did you manage to dig through his personal info? real name perhaps?”

“i—uhh…n-no, i still haven’t managed to..”

“…”

“just keep up the work, y/n. do not disappoint me.”

blade is an assassin for god’s sake, scooping information about him will take more than years to do so, even if you were playing as his faux ‘lover.’ you didn’t understand why he refused to answer questions from you in connection of his workspace, he replies all the time that it was ‘too embarrassing’ to say so. he says that then won’t hesitate to come home and drop his sword somewhere in his big house. this was going to take longer than you thought it was. no wonder this assignment was labeled as ‘heavy.’ investigating him was like a trace gone cold no matter how many evidence you found. it was like the said evidence were nothing but dents.

so that was why you decided to take matters into your own hands.

while he was out on his ‘work,’ you walked inside his home naturally, and quietly. blade always told you where his house keys were hidden every time he was out for business. your skills of not leaving traces as perfectly working as always. his small office inside of his house, you easily unlocked the door and went inside. blade had mentioned to you to never enter his house office, yet here you were. you couldn’t help but feel a little bad, however this was your job. you weren’t supposed to love him in the first place, you’re just a spy. playing with someone’s heart can be cruel.

his documents that spread on the inside of his cabinets that were placed on the sides, you opened them, seeing all the details you needed; displayed in front of you. your heart drummed in exhilaration, already imagining all the possibilities your boss might give you for your future works.

oh naive you..

“what might you be doing…y/n?”

a cold metallic feeling that touches your neck as you didn’t have time to react to the stern voice that whispered through your ears. gloved hands crawl through your thigh as the other held the bloodied sword closer to your throat. your breath hitches, and time froze at that moment. your eyes widen once you realized something..

he called you…y/n. not your fake name.

“b-blade..?”

“yes, y/n? what are you doing here?”

this wasn’t a fucking dream, he knows your name.

“why so silent now? are you surprised i know your real name, y/n?” the way he speaks your name was austere, moving closer before he gently lays his head on your shoulder. even his gorgeous face was splattered with blood, almost his entire clothing was. you were done for, your cover was blown.

“h-how..?”

“hm? how’d i know?” he chuckles. “simple…you’re a spy, aren’t you?”

you froze

“i thought your organization is a lot more smarter than that, sending a cute girl here to grab my attention. well…not like i’m complaining..you guys do know it’s not easy to fool me, right? and now you’re here in my office when i forbid you to go, that won’t do, y/n..” he spoke, softly caressing your thigh in a manner that slowly turned rough. you let out a soft grunt as blade grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him, his red hues staring back at yours as he smiles like a manic. you couldn’t move your eyes away…those chilling eyes, like a predator looking at its prey.

“so? tell me.”

there was nowhere else to run. he’s got you on a chokehold, your body pressed against his as his strong grip held you down. you didn’t even register your thoughts completely to know you were sitting on top of him, you were too focused on his deadly gaze. your entire life as a spy, all fell down quickly like building blocks…all because of blade. your eyes felt like tearing up, finding the words to say, heartbeat screaming in your chest to just tell the truth…you…

“i have betrayed you, blade..”

blade’s attention was fully on you now, glancing at your body on top of his as you spoke in a whisper, almost in regret.

“i was going to find your name…and report it to the association…” you should’ve just declined the job. maybe the easier works were made for you after all.

“i’m sorry…if you must kill me then…i’ll accept that outcome.” you wanted to apologize to your boss, as well. for failing as a spy, for ruining his expectations on this ongoing mission. blade looks at you with no reaction, he still held you tight before grabbing his sword. this was it. this is the end for you.

“i see..” was all he responded before raising up his weapon, blood dropping down from the tip. blade hugs you tight, the sword adjusting over your neck.

as you closed your eyes, you watched as every decision you made throughout your life flashed before your mind. you began to wonder if maybe you were born as a normal girl—not a spy or anything, would you have found happiness? true love? would you have finished school and achieve a dream you’ve always wanted? probably. however, here you are, spending your last moments in life as it was ended by an assassin. there was no point in asking those questions now, this was the final.

just then, the sound of the sword dropping on the floor came on your ears, your eyes were back wide open when two pairs of arms are now wrapped around your shoulders, almost like a mother hugging her child close. blade laid his head down on your shoulder once more, smudging small drips of blood onto your clothing as you felt his breath on your neck.

“ren..” he mutters to you through the hug. “just call me ren…” then he pats your head like an animal.

you had a whole bag of questions right after that moment. pulling away, you looked at him with the most bewildered face ever, your face contorted whether you were angry or just plain confused.

“what?”

“hm? what? oh, ren as in—

“that’s not what i’m confused about..!”

blade was amused by how you reacted to his sudden gesture. most assassins by now would’ve sliced your neck open upon seeing you were an undercover spy sneaking info out of him, however from here…he instead proposed a deal. a deal that made you get stuck to this job.

“if you agree to marry me and become my wife, then i’ll allow you to keep spying on me.”

you think it’s dumb at first, marrying someone for the sake of knowing every little detail about him for some stupid mission. but again, his proposal was reasonable enough. for him, his side was that he gets to marry you. and for you, you can inform your boss you lured him into an engagement. easy as that. you can already see the look on your boss’ face once you tell him that exact information. blood rushes through your cheeks as you were thrilled with the thought. it’s a big win-win for both of you, and a marriage contract will do the trick. eventually, you agreed.

and thus, the two of you got married. in contract.

this was for the commission, was what you kept telling yourself. a married life with blade was…something that might take a while to get used to. he spoiled you rotten, when you guys got married he bought an expensive wedding gown on that same day, all because you thought the dress was pretty. he was loaded for an assassin. the stella hunters group payed them fairly. too fairly. they are a group of assassins after all. blade loved teasing you, seeing your face blush was his favorite sight. and his teasing wasn’t even intentional. hell—he probably turned a deaf ear when he was making fun of you.

no long after, you moved into his huge apartment. living together wasn’t much of a hassle. there were separate rooms, so whenever you wanted to not sleep with him, you would sleep in the other room (just in case). he’d gift you small gifts, something to entertain you with. sometimes, he’ll buy unnecessary lingerie to deride you with, piss you off with probably, too. you weren’t going to lie, some of the lingerie he bought were pretty (yet that doesn’t mean you like them !) it’s unbelievable to know how much blade says ‘i love you’s’ to you a whole lot. his demeanour as an assassin changed when you’re around.

on second thought, this man was out of his head. and weird.

you slightly began to think of him as a pervert, blade likes to scan down a lot to look at your melons. though, this doesn’t happen frequently, he only does it when you notice just to pull on your strings. you hated how instead of you who kept blade under your thumb, it was him who was influencing you. he had a strong morale, blade knows about the stares you give him every time he comes out of the shower. pretending like he doesn’t notice then would proceed to walk towards you with a towel over his leaking head. men like him on assignments are (kind of) no different, with good looks at first it should be alright, then suddenly they were perverts. it was an ongoing cycle you run throughout your life as a female spy, never escaping the chain of male clients.

and as for you who was an eye candy of every male gaze in your work, there was no difference of how easily they fawn over your figure like a barbie doll. nothing new to you; but to blade, he’s fully aware. he knew the treatment you got from your workplace, how you complained to him during on dates of how you were mostly assigned to older guys or either degenerates. as long as they were guys, you were quickly rolled in. you were pretty, and cute. he can understand why your boss gave you roles for victims who were men. it’s often hard grabbing the attention of a man after all, unless you were beautiful. yet he tells you how you actually did a nice job making him fall for you.

a blush erupts on your face when he mentioned that. blade only said that to make you feel better, is what your brain told you.

with the deal ongoing, you and blade made a lot of exchanges, some of them were cardinal for your mission as a spy. he gave you a lot of opportunities to know every little thing about him. in return, all he asked for were hugs, kisses, or dates. he was like a lovesick puppy. the loving looks he gave you, taking your palm out of nowhere then kisses them so soothingly. it was not worth questioning of how he makes you down on your knees. though you refused to let him know about that side of you of course.

you can’t let yourself down for a handsome assassin.

you and blade came home one day from a banquet incident.

it was supposed to be part of his assignment. to assassinate a director chief who was part of that party. all you have to do was merely watch him and be his party date. he came along with a colleague, her name was kafka. she introduced herself to you then congratulated your marriage with blade. she was beautiful, eyes hypnotizing and her presence as dangerous as blade’s. throughout the party, she started to grow a liking towards you, asking you to dance with her then glancing behind your back with your hand on hers. she was probably trying to make blade jealous.

how right she was when she said it worked.

kafka was rather flirty, although she was wearing a suit to the banquet, she still looks exquisite. for the entire night, you spent half of your time with her. well—she made you spend your time with her to be exact. dancing and sharing chats while drinking underneath the moonlight. you weren’t sure how blade reacted to his female companion being a little too close with his wife. in the meantime, she asked a lot of questions to you, too, asking how you and blade met, what made you love him, the usual questions like a mother asking about her son. she smiles mischievously at every answer you gave.

there was a side of you that’s telling not to trust this woman much. she had a mystique side to her. just by the look of her eyes, you knew kafka was someone not be trusted. she is an assassin, just like your husband. spies and assassins were no different much for their missions. unlike spies, they don’t kill in order to obtain said info. they hide themselves in order to do so, like skulking shadows. while assassins like them, chooses violence. how did the world come up so terrible that they created people like your profession to exist?

that same night, however, a small explosion occured, catching you immediate attention. the floor shakes with ease, leaving small visible cracks. screams of the people in that party made a ruckus, running out of the building from below your view as you only watched in a panic. what in the world just happened?

“hmm, just as the boss planned..” you hear kafka say, bringing her gun out of the pockets of her suit. she seems entertained; and she came prepared as predicated. you were right when you thought of how full her coat’s pocket looked. you send her a gaze, perplexed of what she meant.

“i-is ren going to be alright in there??”

“relax~ he’s a professional. do you really think bladie won’t survive in something so small like that~?” something so small, was his agency used to this type of disaster? assassins are frightening indeed. as kafka opened the door from the balcony you two stood in, a large dark smoke erupted out from the party room. you covered your nose, letting out a loud cough while kafka stood there, unbothered. a figure stands in front of her.

“i told you to send a signal, didn’t i?” kafka spoke, her eyes dark as a smile aligned on her face.

blade stands tall, his appearance sanguinary with the drip of crimson coming down on his sword. he looks nonchalant as he stared back at kafka, he huffs, “the bomb went off earlier than i thought. i’ve already slaughtered the remaining security,” blade says, wiping the small blood the slides down his chin. even with something like blood falling down on his image, your husband still looks ethereal. not a single scratch was on him, not even an injury from the bomb. he wasn’t bathing in his own blood, yet he bathed in others. the two assassins looked so astounding together. with their threatening aura and glances they shared, they were really one of the most best assassins in the team. your boss really was mindful to warn you about them.

“is that so? very good then. the lesser the better for our target to be shot in the head…also, you worried your adorable wife, y’know? she was scared you’d die in the bomb,” kafka tells the male, a soft chuckle following by. blade gazes back to meet your figure. you look magnificent in that dress he made you wear. coming to the banquet as his date was truly one of the best ideas he made. blade excused himself for a moment, walking past kafka and straight to you before pressing a small kiss on your temple, not minding the blood that smeared onto your forehead. his gloved hands pulled your head closer to him. you noticed blade had taken off his black coat that matched his suit, probably because it was too hot? either way it’s not worth pointing out, since he looks handsome looking like that.

“apologies, did that scare you..?”

“not at all j-just…shocked..”

“is that so?”

“save the loving hours for later, bladie. we got more business to take care of~” kafka cuts the small conversation between the both of you as she cunningly walks back inside the room boiled with grey smoke, her dark suit dissolving along with her enigmatic figure before disappearing in the space of the area. after she had left, blade turns his head to look back at you, his dark eyes never leaving yours, “you should head to a more safer spot. follow me, i’ll lead you there.”

the route you followed as you trailed behind blade made you quiver in fear when the glimpse of countless lifeless bodies of securities scattered all over the place like fallen dominos. it was if as a blood war happened here. the eerie silence pierced your cowardice even more that blade had to pull your closer to his side. talk about overprotective…your husband dragged you away to an overcast corner, where there were no one else surrounding near that spot. he told you to stay there for awhile, and wait for his return. credulously, you obliged and await for his arrival. the place creaked, helpless pleas fall onto your ears before hearing the sounds of either gunshots or the swift movement of a sword finish the loud cries they let out. this scared you, having to cover your ears and ignore the shouts they let out as the assassins out ended their lives, including the targeted director chief.

spies aren’t special in these types of occupations where blood spilled like paint. as said, your team is more in specialising in gathering top secret data from other groups that your association acquired to know about. meddling with other people’s business (inclusive of your husband and his colleague’s job) was on your description, but not into the extent of this. you weren’t used to hearing bullets firing, guts being spilled and cries of help ring in your ears like a nightmare. however, this was the nature for cold-blooded criminal assassins like them. the sound of footsteps echoed through your hearing, along with the sight of blade returning. his hair was a little messy (in a manner that turned him even more hotter), sword placed tightly in his palm, leaking with scarlet. blade sighed, “i’m back..”

“a-are you ok?? you’re dripping in blood..!”

“it’s their blood, not mine. are you worried about me, y/n?”

“o-of course i am! for goodness sake!” he laughs, a hoarse breath nudging in the middle of his throat before he pulls you closer, forehead pressed against yours as he stared deep into your eyes. “you stayed as i asked…how obedient, y/n. perhaps shall i reward you..?”

“h-huh?? what are you—

suddenly a loud bang shoots through the tranquil air, blade immediately pulled your close to him, before a bullet flies through below his hip, hitting him.

your eyes went wide, seeing small pricks of blood drool down from his abdomen. blade grunts, his head looked across from the room and meets with the annoying smirk of the (surprisingly) alive security had over their face. “b-blade..!” you couldn’t help but shout. there was an ignite of irritation in his eyes. blade ignores you, pulling a pistol out from his pocket and shooting a headshot at the man, before the security finally died. blade held the spot where he was shot; feeling his body weaken as you called for kafka who had just arrived, also bathed in blood; with documents in her hands.

a limousine came to pick you guys up to bring blade to immediate aid. for the entire time you stayed right next to his side until he was bandaged by one of the nurses in the limo, stopping the slight blood that leaked down. thank goodness, he was wearing a bullet proof vest. however with the amount of shots he received from earlier battles, it seems like the final shot you witnessed to him harmed him directly to a more effective part of the bullet proof, causing a bleed. everyone in the limo, they all wore dark attire, collected expressions as the whole drive towards blade’s apartment was as soundless as the dead. blade rested his head over your shoulder, sneaking small subtle touches on your inner thigh while you tried your best to keep your mouth shut. wrecking the droning atmosphere was not something you’d want to do, not to mention the people who were with you in the limo were part of the stella hunters association.

kafka asked if you needed any assistance in dragging blade up on your shared penthouse apartment, though blade cuts in; saying he didn’t need help and that he was practically fine now. it’s as if the bullet shot at his hip didn’t effect him at all. him saying that he was used to being hurt…this made you even more worried about him. as he was one of the strongest in his section along with kafka, it was obvious the missions they give him were extremely perilous.

after the limo had dropped the both of you in your place, kafka bids you a (quite terrifying) farewell through the car glass, velvet gloves waving you a goodbye before the window rolls back up, and the limo leaves with nothing else. blade stood firmly still, despite being shot earlier at the banquet. the bandaged area hid within his bloodied suit shirt, navy dark hair hiding his other eye before he waited for you to stand next to him. “shall we?” he spoke to you in a gentle manner, his hand outreached to yours before you held it and led him home to your shared place.

upon opening the door— you warmly made him rest down on the couch, running to the kitchen to fetch him some water and prepare a bath. blade watches as you run around the house like a panicking maid and an airy chuckle escapes from his lip, “y/n..”

“y-yes…?” you murmured, stopping yourself from pacing back and forth. blade tilts his head a bit, a small smile appearing over his lips, “you know you don’t have to keep doing that. you look so concerned right now, y’know? this… i’m used to it..” he speaks. you didn’t like how he normally says that like bleeding and harming for him was casual despite being an assassin. even if he was strong, blade was still a person. pouting, you threw the towel away from the side and made him look at you, obvious look over your expression you were angry of what he said. was he a dumbass? “don’t say things like that, blade.”

he grins, “why not? it’s true.”

“blade, please, you’re making me worry about your health more. if it weren’t for the bullet proof vest you would’ve died..!”

the male stood up impatiently from the couch, walking next to your side as he suddenly moves his head a little closer to yours, a hum erupting out of him. you moved away, feeling the heat on your cheeks. close…he was so close. what’s with him all of a sudden? “you’re worried, y/n? how very kind..” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck. you shivered. bashfully, you turned your head away; avoiding eye contact as you replied, “i-is there something wrong? if you don’t like that then i can stop worrying if you keep teasing me..”

“how very strange..earlier at the banquet you said you were worried about me. taking back your words now?” there was venom in his tone, an icy gaze that lacks of emotion except for lechery was filled in his appearance. instead of dangerous for his term as an assassin maybe dangerously handsome is a more fitting description. you remained silent, not being able to talk back like he exposed you fully. another chuckle. “not answering, huh? in that case..”

instantly, your figures moved back to the soft cushions of the couch; arms held tight by his fingers along with the feeling of your legs spread across his body—face looking directly over his dark features. you were on top of him while blade laid down on the couch, holding you by your arms.

“you still have work to do, y/n,” he began, voice enchanting with toxin, bloodshot eyes digging holes into yours like a madman. your breath shakes, paralyzed in place when his fingers moved up to play with the small fats of your hips. “you could threaten me with a weapon, dig your hands into my wounds, and i would have to answer all of your questions…” his tone now latched with sweetness like honey. seeming convincing enough for you to be enlightened. you stared back at him, puzzled. “what are you talking—

blade pulls your arm closer to his face, emotionless eyes peeking through your glimmering irises that reads confusion and clarity. he smiles, “right now, i’m so weak…i couldn’t resist anything you do to me..” he quietly sneaks your hand on his injured area, feeling the familiar touch texture of the bandage touch your skin. the lingering sensation made you wince, blade looks indeed weak; pale skin as he breathes heavily. “i’m sure your association has so many things they’d love to know about me..” he mutters to you, lovingly. your breath hitches, taken back.

“well? now is your chance.”

you tightly clutched your fists from his sentence. an opportunity to know everything your boss had been dying to know about this man. anything you’ll ask, he says he’ll answer due to his enfeebled form. there’s a chance; you can’t just turn your head from this. every achievement you can earn by getting the statistics they desperately wanted. everything you wanted will be given if you just do your job right now—

no.

“i’m sorry..” blade blinks his eyes twice, dazed from your response. “it must’ve hurt really bad, didn’t it? i don’t think…i can do anything to you right now..” as you slowly moved your head away from his chest, few strands of your hair fell down across your face causing you to brush them away, you looked at blade with eyes that reads nothing but worry. the male glances back at you with a questionable look. “…to the association, i’m merely just another pawn. just like all the others like me, if we stop being useful we’re replaced right away..” looking down on his stomach, you sighed, “we’re only ever concerned about our own safety, and the idea that someone would protect me with their body…was novel to me. maybe that’s why, i had to protect you as well..”

steadily, your returned your head down on his chest, feeling him breathe heavily through the strokes you drew on his chest. you snuggled into that same warmth, inhaling in his scent. he smelled like enigma and copper, mixed with the floating fragrance of dark virtue . “be careful next time, okay? you’re still my objective after all..” you wanted to see what your husband looks like right now. after all, it took you some time to tell him those words that’s been latched from the back of your throat. maybe he’s looking at you funny, wasn’t expecting them from someone like you. yeah.

the sound of water falling down the tub caught your attention as you promptly excused yourself before jumping off of blade’s chest. walking towards the bathroom, you turned off the faucet that spilled out with warm water, and went back outside to call for blade, telling him that his bath was ready. the bath needed a little more foam, perhaps adding bubbles and some soap to the water will help ease his mind once he’s in the bathtub. before you could head back inside the bathroom to fill the water with soap, a hand stopped you from doing so, as a figure hugged you from behind, head on your shoulder. you flinched, stammering on your words to see blade.

“i love you..”

your eyes go wide.

he kisses the back of your neck, breathing in your scent. “you don’t even understand how much those words make me love you more. you’re so mean, y/n..” blade brushes his lip against your cheek, feeling yourself shudder in his touch. he laughs when you try to push him away. “t-the bath is ready! get yourself washed up so you’ll cleanse your wound as well!”

“has that moody boss of yours never once stood for you?” he dodges your topic.

“…what?” and you definitely have a lot of questions just by the mention of your boss flew out of his mouth. although you couldn’t help but wonder: why was your boss indeed so interested in him? assassins are supposed to be mysterious, it’s crystal clear there a lot of essential inquiry they posses as shadows—but him specifically? there has to be a valuable reason. your boss never hid anything much from you. “how do you know my boss? all i was told was to investigate your background and weaknesses but…w-wait! is there some type of personal conflict between the both of you?? why is the association so interested in you?? hey, tell me—

blade’s lips shut you off, ceasing your words before they could even wind up your query. his weight caused you to lose a bit of your balance, your hands pinned on the entrance of the bathroom as you muffled in his mouth. the kiss tasted like impatience and longing. he freed one of your hands, slipping his gloved palm over your coverless shoulders with a smooth rub to it. you flinched, before blade pulls away from the kiss. it took you awhile to catch your breath and registered what just happened.

“h-hey, what—

“let’s make an exchange. a deal.”

blade finally lets go of your hand, his arm just right above your head as he leans closer, covering your path. he looks solemn, yet there was a hint over his eyes that construes as an engulfing flame of impulse to kiss you again. his other hand slowly slid down to the wall next to you, touching your shoulders till it reaches your hip, pulling you in. “i know i might be playing foul, but if that’s the only card i have then i don’t mind..” the male playfully plays with the fabric of your dress, pulling them up until your feel your inner thigh feeling the cold wind. “i knew you were a spy, yet i bound you by this marriage contract. that’s just how much i yearn for you..”

what is he talking about? a deal? just what crazy ideas is this guy coming up again?

you didn’t realise your were zoning out until blade pushes your chin up with his forefinger, making you look up at him in a better view. “y/n, my dearest..here’s the deal, i’ll tell you my secrets, but in return…” your heart pounds heavily with electricity—feeling your breath quicken when he pressed his forehead softly against yours.

“…let me do anything i want with you tonight.”

that marriage contract he mentioned, although it was fake for the sake of your mission, the predicament you found yourself in was real. though, you needed a little more thought to think about what he wants to do with you, including when blade looked so…steamy?

‘it’s a great chance to gather information, but…what does ‘anything he wants’ entail—huh?’

the atmosphere quickly changed, the male didn’t give you a chance to utter out a word when he instantly went back to claim your lips. this time the kiss grew more heated than before, linking between the emotions craving and thirst—his cold hands exploring your body from out and within your dress, feeling your curves and the heat between them. you were slowly losing your balance, legs weakening from his strength like he was forcing his mouth in yours. actually, he was even more forceful than usual. this is wrong but…you couldn’t resist. it was hot, so hot. it feels like you were sweating as you two exchanged smothering kisses. you never knew blade was talented with his tongue until he used it to deepen the kiss, casting around your mouth until a small drop of saliva escapes out of your lip.

“you would like that, yeah?” the male in front of you muttered between kisses, a grin stretched over his face. “knowing my secrets, sharing it to your associates so your mission would be complete. you’re desperate to know too, correct?” he just knew the buttons to press to make you jolt in his touch. an exchange where instead of hurting him and force him to answer your questions regarding of the info you needed to report to your boss, maybe doing this was better. you’re a virgin after all. a small muffled whimper escapes out of your throat, trying to push him away but blade had already pinned both of your arms above your head—his grip on them strong. he chuckles in the kiss when he notices you struggling for air with your eyes tight shut. he pulls away, along with a small string of saliva connecting between your lips. you could finally breathe again as you pant hard. blade thinks the sight in front of him was fucking delicious, you acting so helpless and weak.

you see your husband licking his lip, right before leaning close again. “good girl, y/n. let’s kiss more, can we…?”

“i…”

“what’s that, dearest?”

you bit your bottom lip, fists tightening on his chest. flashbacks of your co-workers calling you pure, naive, artless…it was time for you to try something new, something you’ve never done before that everyone has already been through as young adults, or even teenagers. him giving you this opportunity to know such crucial data, if in exchange for your body. it was a better deal than earlier.

besides, you wanted to thank him.

it was a terrible decision to rub your thighs together; thinking blade wouldn’t notice (but he did). because of this, his pupils darken, something similar to the look of his eye whenever he was on assassin mode. “i wouldn’t do that if i were you, dearest..” blade spoke, already beginning to feel drunk on that desire that rushes through his veins. “you’re making this harder for me.”

“i’m…”

blade hums in reply to your short words, finger under your chin before you finished your sentence. you just needed the right string to pull off the trigger. maybe this is for the best for your new world. as a spy. you’ll get that stupid title you had for the whole 7 years of working there off of your name. staring right back at blade, looking through his red eyes, you took a deep breath.

“i’m all yours, blade.”

that was all he needed to hear.

he launched towards your lips, kissing you again with fiery passion. you kissed him back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes as you two indulge yourselves in a heated make-out session for the second time. blade was rough with his kisses, as if he was going to shift his name to your mouth, claiming every air that was entering through your lips and help you breathe properly. saying those words to him were a mistake, too, blade wasn’t letting you struggle. the lipgloss you applied that evening before heading to the banquet with him smudged on his lips, tasting you and its flavor. slowly did you feel your feet levitating from the floor, before a surprised yelp comes out of your voice.

blade was carrying you now, your arms still linked around his shoulders. he went forward to your neck after, licking your collarbone up until it reaches your throat, before slowly nipping his sharp teeth at the skin. your breath shakes, abjectly looking away at the vision of blade peppering wet kisses at your sensitive neck alongside leaving visible marks to them. oh how he loves the taste of your skin, like if he was licking the sweetest treat for the first time. his hands caressed your cheek like they were made of ivory, pulling away to look at your panting face, blushing madly. he likes the look of that. “you’re still as soft..and still as sweet..” he mumbles, “i’m getting tired, so why don’t we head up now, hm?”

answering back at him won’t help since the guy was already rushing up to his bedroom with you in his arms, pushing the door open with impatience of a madman—he pulled you in yet another kiss, and a satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you both settled down on his comfy bed. the room smelled like roses, lingering with air conditioned fragrance. you could fall asleep to the relaxing atmosphere, yet blade was helping you keep awake. your neck was probably covered in marks by now, since the assassin wasn’t intending on stopping. the cold air hits your bare thighs, making you shiver twice by the temperature, and by how blade’s fingers began to slide down on your legs to the core of your heat. you gasped hard once his forefinger reaches the main fabric of your panties.

“you’re panting hard though all we did was just kissing. imagine how hard you’ll be panting once i get to shove myself in you.” he was looking down on you and your pathetic figure. how your tummy goes up and down, how your legs squished his hand that touches your panties, how your doe eyes laced with innocence looked at him when he teased you. his patience was running thin with you. god, you’re going to be the death of him. biting hard down on your thumb, you held blade’s arm, tugging on the sleeve. “i-i’ve never done this before..” you murmured, glossy eyes hypnotizing him under your spell. blade curses under his breath, pushing his hair back. you’re so damn cute, he wanted to just fuck your face but he can’t just do that. as much as he’d like to ruin you, rapture himself with your presence—he needed to be gentle with his cute virgin wife.

“yeah? well, i’ll be pleased to teach you then.” he replies, shortly before ripping your panties down to your legs. you winced once the cold air entered to your heating core, seeing small drops of impure liquid drip from your entrance to the soft fabric of your underwear. blade chuckles at your reaction. “first, i’ll teach you how to prep yourself before we get to the main part. but damn, wet already? all we did was share kisses, dearest.”

a pout forms over your face with the sudden teasing, making you meekly cross your legs in order to hide. blade however, didn’t like this attitude you give him. “don’t, i’m observing..” was all he says, his eyes scanned down to your leaking cavern like a hunter tracking down its next meal. you felt frail under his ravening gaze, hands curling into fists while you whined of the way his other hand rubbed over your thighs, earnestly—under all the touch of his black gloves. “i-its embarrassing, don’t look at it like tha—ah!”

his hand worked like magic, gloved fingers propped over your aching entrance as he gave it a rub. that alone was already enough to make your jolt from the comfy sheets of the bed, a loud gasp erupting out of your mouth. blade began to starve from eagerness, pulling his glove out of his hands using his teeth, before his now naked hands continued to toy with your puffy clit; glistening like a gem on his hands. the new feeling sends all kinds of electrical waves throughout your body—pleasure from heaven that shoots just where you liked it. holy shit, this felt good. no wonder some of your co-workers told how you were ‘missing out’ on some of your opportunities to sleep with some of your targets.

the way his hands rubbed circles around your entrance was sending shockwaves and new emotions that coil up inside of your stomach. this was such a nice feeling, you didn’t want him to stop. you hear blade chuckle, “relax, honey..” he whispers, dark and smooth like velvet. his eyes were glued to yours, watching your every reaction and every breath that comes out of your mouth. he didn’t want to miss a single one of it. “you’re so pretty..i can’t wait another minute..” he had a tight grip over your thighs, fingers soaked from kneading your hole in circles. though, he was curious; and also wanted to give you a new experience..

you were disappointed when the feeling of his stroking his fingers on your clit stopped, looking at him with a hopeless look on your face. blade smiles, right before as he shoves you down more on the bed, his fingers entering your narrow entrance. you let out a satisfied cry, back arched up. now that was even more better. hell, that was already enough to sends a current down on your body, you looked so pretty when you whine. “why do you look like that? have you never fucked yourself with your fingers before?” he questions, and you shook your head. he whistles, “heh. you really were missing out. fuck, what a tight one. and this is just with my fingers,” blade slightly flicks his tongue over your mouth, pinning your arm above your head while his fingers began to pump in and out of your cute pussy, squelching noises echoing inside of the room. sweet melodies came out of your throat, sounding like music to your husband’s ears. oh how he wished he could record you right now.

“you look gorgeous crying my name like that, dearest.”

you bit your bottom lip, closing your eyes as you try to just focus on the pleasure he was giving you. his fingers dig deeper to a spot you wanted him the most—prodding closer to your release. you moaned out his name, your white knuckled hands gripped the sheet, the tension in your muscles growing as you held yourself to remain still. “b-blade…!”

“what’s wrong? afraid you like it?” the corners of blade’s mouth twitched upward still in a mischievous grin. slowly did your hips begin to bounce over his drenched digits, silencing your pleasured sighs by biting down hard on your finger as the continuous resonance of your moist cunt being played by his fingers filled the room’s walls. it was as a clear as day you’re inexperienced, so that’s why he thinks this was a perfect time. blade notices how your euphoric essence followed through his rhythm, seeming amused he let you be to pleasure yourself on him, trying his best to ignore his aching cock underneath the fabric of his pants—the sight of you acting like a bitch in heat is forbidding him from doing so however. your moans went louder when you felt his fingers curl inside your clit like it was an instrument, hearing his manic chuckle as he watches you squirm and tremble.

it was lewd. small gasps escapes your lips, trying to cut the knot that’s tied inside of your belly. a wave of intensity runs through your skin as you closed your eyes shut; feeling that closeness almost approaching from your core. good, it felt so good you could almost float on how his fingers did its job. blade kisses you, a groan floating out of his tongue before the coil inside of you was finally cut, and you feel your high dripping down on your legs. you cried loudly into the kiss, before pulling away, panting deeply. the space that lives inside of your head was filled with smoke, mindless into the gaze of the eyes with shades of red. it hasn't even been closer to 5 minutes when your husband began to finger your pure pussy, yet your first orgasm rushed through you like a huge tide. and shit, it felt great. a drool slipped past your lips while catching your breath; meanwhile the smirking assassin on the other hand was chucking as he collected a small amount of your impurity on his long digits, before taking a taste. you blushed madly upon seeing how his red hues widen at the flavor of your arousal.

as he parted his tongue off from his fingers, a small string of saliva followed by. that was fucking hot. "dearest...you taste fucking divine, y'know that?" he tells you like a beast after his thirst was quenched. "what an honor to be your first person to teach you all about this. now that you know how fucking on fingers feel like, next..." the male instantly moves away from your side, roughly gripping hard on both of your thighs before kneeling on the floor right in front of the mattress—predatory gaze meeting your slick pussy. his hot breath fans over core, before planting a quick kiss over at the sensitive area. you squirmed. "for this next one, let me teach you what fucking on my tongue feels like..." you weren't even finished resting from your previous orgasm and he was already prepping you for round 2. this man is going to slaughter you...

at a leisurely pace did he flailed his tongue out of his lips, before he licks a long stripe at your aching cunt. your back arched, a mewl spilled off from your throat, eyes shut tight as your legs moved on its own. sheepishly wrapping around his neck to pull him closer to your core, your hands tugging on his hair. it felt like a whole new feeling, his warm wet tongue navigating to your area—creating new sinful noises to come out of your lips. your breath became quicker, being filled with greediness and filth.

your body quivers as blade began to eat you out, much more faster than before. your liquids hovering on his tongue as animalistic growls erupts from his throat, hand gripping more harsh on your thighs, leaving finger marks in the process as his mouth sucks on your bud like it was his last meal. your thoughts began to melt in pleasure, cries of satisfaction being the only sound along with the continuous laps of blade's mouth feasting over your core, gripping down onto your thigh fat like a madman begging to be choked between your legs.

there was another knot building up over your stomach in no time when blade's mouth reached a certain spot in you, causing you to arch your back upwards, covering the sudden yelp you let out in surprise. his mouth began to lick on that inexorable spot that he had discovered, smirking before sucking every fiber out of you. how vulgar the noises his tongue made while he fucks you with his mouth. you began to see stars, heaven sent euphoria from above that this type of lust that boils within you made you feel like a whole new different person. it was sending new flares within the contact of touches he did, your body grinding on his handsome face—the cushions of the bed below being soaked by your spilling arousal from earlier. that same flare began to engulf more into a more intense heat, feeling your second wave of orgasm incoming while fucking yourself on his warm tongue.

blade had a now tyrannical grip on your thighs, pinning you in place while drowning in your overflowing fluids that started to spill little by little from your satiated cunt. the ongoing sensations of seraphic emotions crawling to the tips of his toes, poorly grinding himself at nothing. the sheets were steadily threading apart from the nails of your fingers, brain fixating at the man beneath you. his groans had been more vocal now, tongue leisurely sliding over your wet folds, while you were here fighting for your life to not cum on his face out of nowhere. how cute you are, weeping with pure tears running down your cheeks. it felt that good? poor girl, there there now...this will finish soon. he just needs to hear you.

"y/n...let me hear you, dearest." his feast over your folds stopped when he spoke, wiping the liquid that fell down his chin with his thumb. you whined, legs prying to make him continue by pulling him closer, feeling vulnerable. he likes the look of that. "p-please...blade.."

"that's not the name we agreed on when we signed that marriage contract now, did we?" blade was definitely teasing you, pressing small pecks on your thigh to taunt you more. it was adorable of how you didn't realize how your eyes were molded in the lustful shapes of hearts, panting heavy as you tried to grind your face back on his hot mouth. with this new reaction of yours, he’ll make sure to take not on how to tease you. he backs away a little with a grin, softly caressing your legs wrapped around his shoulders. "if you want me to keep going, then say my name, dearest. my real name." the heat between your legs was too hard to ignore now, igniting up like blade was your fuel to the fire. it was painful to resist, including when you were already feeling so needy. you took a sharp breath, shifting your position as you locked eyes with the male, looking right at you. "r-ren...please..p-please keep going.."

"so obedient..." he finally muses, before fully shoving his tongue inside your folds. you folded back, hands roughly tugging on his hair as your legs kicked the air from behind, pitiful screams pushed past your lips as you feel the release almost coming of you. you hopelessly grinded on his face, pleas of his name spilling out of you like a mantra as he slowly devoured your clit. he holds you down, laughing between each suck he did on your cunt, right before pushing you over to the edge. whimpers of his name reached his ears like a symphony along with his soft groans, drinking your juices as you came down on your second orgasm. your body heaved, breathless, sweat dripping down your forehead in each breath you took. your thighs were covered with your wetness, with blade licking off your arousal from your folds before pulling away. if you could only take a good look at yourself now, you wouldn't wonder why blade was wearing a proud grin over his face.

the sight of you looking a mess, ruined, and spilled with your fluids. your hair was messy, strands up over your face as for your dress was a wreck. his cock hurt...you were ready now, so why need to hold back? your husband hovered against your figure for a moment, then leaning in to your lips and kissing you affectionately, giving a free taste of yourself that spread on his mouth. the both of you moaned in the kiss, blade sneaking his tongue in your mouth in order to hear more of you, audible growls mixed with your winsome whines. that was when you felt something hard poke beneath your leg, his hips rocking against your naked thigh as the both of you exchanged wet kisses. pulling away, blade lays his forehead against yours, "don't taste too bad, yeah? i think i'm gonna grow addicted to eating you out now."

your slapped his arm, and he chuckles darkly, moving away. it seems you were quite quick to take a breath even after going through two orgasms already, and both of which still hasn’t done with his dick. his eyes looked different than before—as if they were now injected with ecstasy. "now, onto the final one.."

your eyes darted towards blade as he slowly took his black coat off of his attire, his arms pushing back to remove the dressing alongside his black loose tie that hung messily around his neck, all while gazing at you with an intoxicating look. you gulped a small lump that was stuck between your throat, cheeks flaring as you watched him take upper clothing off, revealing the bandage patched to where he was (kind of) shot. "you're looking at me so intensely..like what you see?" he coos, and you looked away, feeling bashful when he called you out. this wasn't the first time that you had seen him shirtless, the both of you often almost ended up having sex if it weren't for you acting so endearing underneath him, the feeling of wanting to ruin your innocence leaving his body whenever he'd see you on that state.

yet now, the male felt like he had the strength to ravage your perfect body. hands sliding up to grope on your plush breasts in awe. he leans down, nipping the soft nape of your lovebite-covered neck; his fingers teases your nipples, dragging his tongue up till it reaches the shell of your ear, whispering words drugged with filth and vileness. your mind was hazy, from the previous bursts you let out from pleasure you couldn't really think straight. when the perception of your eyesight changed when you saw that same tent moving in his pants. it weighed down, catching your attention. naively did you reached for the bump in his pants, and softly rubbed on it, feeling how hard he is. blade groans when your fingers prodded on his clothed erected dick, slowly stopping from fondling your breasts as he gave in the pleasure you’re sending him. you can feel him shudder from above you. "fuck...you just—o-oh fuck..yeah, just like that. keep doing that, dearest.." he whimpered, hiding his face against your neck.

you moved your head to turn to blade, your fingers went forward to touching him while you timidly question if what you were doing was alright, you’ve never done this before after all. blade’s face was burning with carnal passion, sweat falling off his face. you stammered, “l-like this..?”

“yeah..n-ngh…p-put your thumb…rub your thumb over—hold on…”

you examined how blade impatiently takes his pants off, along with his dark-toned undergarments before his long shaft sprang to life, bumping into his toned tummy as it faced directly at you. heart pumping loudly in your chest, e/c pupils wide open as you realize his size…he was big, drops of pre-cum already leaking from his red angry tip while you lay there, astounded. you weren’t sure if he was going to fit. no seconds passed when blade took a hold of your hand, taking your fingers to wrap around his dick with your thumb kneading over the tip. “rub your thumb over here…and pump your hands up and down..” he teaches you, and you did just that. your breath stutters, looking at the navy haired male on top of you and how he started to groan in infatuation when you began pumping his cock. a surprised look latched on your face when you see him thrusting his hips up a bit in your hands, his palms still on your tits right until he brings his mouth to latch on one of your nipples.

the two of you let out your voices laced with lechery, voices producing tainted sounds as blade continued to fuck your hand while he sends you sweet bliss by sucking on your cute breasts, swirling his tongue over your areola as the other twirls his fingers around your nipple. tiny tears of his fluid started to flow down over your palm while you jerked him off, signalling how he’s close. the bed’s head bumped against the wall, loud creaking noises from its legs echoed in the bedroom. his semen covered your hand, little by little did his release came close right before blade pulls your hand away from his shaft, while also pushing himself away from your breasts. you innocently tilted your head, bewildered. he looks a little disappointed.

“don’t wanna cum just yet, pretty…wanna…do that now..” he says, despite already almost on the verge of cumming from your hand. pressing a small kiss on your cheek, the male tugs your dress down, taking a good view of your upper chest.

he thinks you’re pretty. he knows you’re pretty, blade always knows that, even after seeing you for the first time to whatever bullshit mission your organization got you into. but, he thinks you’re even more prettier without clothes.

how your body sculpted perfectly against his touch, lingering fragrance of your perfume and the scent of your hair had always been driving him mad alone. your body was a figure sculpted by angels and goddesses, your dress was completely ruined as it slides down your shoulders (so much for buying an expensive party clothing for a banquet that’s planned to be destroyed) all of you, just for him—a blessing. you were displayed like a gift. blade has always fantasized having you sprawled on the mattress of his bedroom like this, looking so helpless and begging to be fucked by him. oh, how god was on his side this day when his fantasies were finally happening, like a dream coming true.

blade was stunned once you brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing his face like a real wife would do to her husband. bounded to this contract for a mission, like a forced arrangement. however, there were no forces, and he just..really loves you. he blames himself for not meeting you any sooner, but that didn’t matter now; you’re here, underneath his figure, acting like you didn’t just scream his name while you came two times. fondly, as he gazed with devotion, blade held your hand that nuzzled on his warmth, tilting his head to the side. his hair falls down his gorgeous face.

“are you ready?” a question comes up, pushing your thighs apart, making the cold air hit your bare pussy that was shown to him. blade reached out for a packet of protection over the lamp next to the bed, ripping it open with his teeth and sliding it in with ease over his length. was that condom there in the first place? you didn’t know. he stroked himself a few times, gliding the tip against your swollen cunt. he wasn’t even in, yet your were trembling as you nodded.

“then, take a deep breath.”

you didn’t take note that what he said was actually warning.

no words were left to escape past your lips, replacing with a high pitched gasp as he gently inches into your cavern. fuck, he was big, it stings bad. he was absolutely right when he said to take a deep breath, the thickness of his shaft was killing you. your back arched up, already ripping off the sheets from his bed as blade’s head rested on your shoulder, surprised by your tightness. it was sucking in, getting to know each one’s heat as the two of you laid there for a while to adjust to his size.

“ fuck, just as i expected..”

“ ‘s so much…so full..”

you were basically almost sobbing at his length throbbing inside of you, making you wiggle your hips and push more down. shit, shit, shit, this felt good…you were seeing fucking stars, you were clawing down on the sheets, panting with that sinful voice of yours. blade notices this eagerness from you, and to him that was a sign for him to start moving.

with a slow pace, he looks down over at your figure, toying around with your tits as he begins to snap his hips to yours. the bed too began to creak, small squeaking sounds of his bed as blade slowly fell into the pleasure of your pussy clamping down on him. this seraphic occurrence you both were in, lost in each other’s touch and desire were like the world was nothing. tainted sounds of moaning and soft grunts and groans filled the room like an opera. your vision was clouded with passion, his face grinning down over your body like you were a goddess.

slowly and slowly, he starts to move his hips a little more faster, forcing you to follow through his rhythm, making sure your cunny can take in as much as it can. this was the moment, blade found your g-spot like a fucking bloodhound. the male smirks, now snapping his hips forward faster. that same sensitive area brought you to tears, going louder as both of your hands clawed down on his back, leaving visible marks as a reminder how he was hitting the good spots. the bed was hitting the wall behind you so hard, you thought it was about to break.

“ah! r-ren..!”

“don’t worry, i—fuck…i got you…”

it was filthy, the way he pushes his tongue down your lips to muffle your cute moans as he pounds his hips into you. he was in so deep…the tip was practically hitting on your cervix repeatedly like a cycle. it was like this man wasn’t almost injured at all. you couldn’t think of anything else..nothing else but the shape he’s leaving in your insides with just his dick was going to corrupt your head. you forgot what you came here for, fuck the mission.

“you’re so beautiful, dearest..crying my name like that..does it feel good?”

you nodded your head, tugging on his hair as he chuckles darkly. another knot in your stomach began to build up in no time, legs kicking the air as blade continued to ruthlessly ram himself in your tight pussy with a satisfied grin. you’re sure by the end of the day your legs would be sore, and you have to rest. so much for a first time, blade wasn’t giving you any vanilla in the house. you couldn’t believe you were doing this in exchange for information. he better keep his fucking promise.

he’s fucking into you like beast, lips kissing your breast before he hisses down over your bottom lip, “i’m not gonna fucking last…you’re driving me insane, woman..”

“r-ren please…feels so good…i’m..”

“yeah? me too, don’t worry…wanna see you covered…” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he was cut off with a groan, feeling his rod throbbing hard it was aching for a release. blade laughs. “all covered like a mess…is that ok, dearest? would you let your husband do that?” he questions so innocently like he wasn’t fucking you hard you’re seeing white. not thinking straight, you nodded like a helpless maiden, hands wrapped around his neck as you moaned, small drool spilling past your lips. “y-yes..please…”

“oh fuck..”

blade feels your release spill in the condom, hearing you mewl so loud in ecstasy it covers his own moans and grunts. oh god, your voice..it was so naughty, he couldn’t help it. he wasn’t showing any mercy to your pussy after that as blade now abused your poor cunt by going even more faster, not giving you time to recover from your precious orgasm. he groans next to your ear, saying your name before he bit on your earlobe. you squealed, the bed almost moving in a different direction. it took a while before the male pulls out, removes the rubber and spilled all over your stomach, some of the fluid landing on your face. it was a little upsetting how he didn’t get to cum inside of you, yet he’ll save that for future sessions..

the two of you lied there, panting heavily like you both just the ran a marathon. his head rested down on your shoulder, giving small kisses over your collarbone as you catch your breath. it feels icky, the cum on your stomach that he made…he came quite a lot.

“how’s that for a first time…?”

you opened your eyes to see blade gazing so lovingly at you like a prince. pouting, you pinched his arm, making him flinch. “you spilled all over me…”

“i asked if i can, you said i could.”

“i-i wasn’t listening properly..!”

“were you that into it?”

your face turns crimson, turning your head away. for a few moments, blade moves closer before giving you a short kiss on the lips, before he pulls away and removes the saliva off your chin with his thumb. you’re adorable, he knows you’re adorable..

“now then, what is it you’d like to know about me?”

oh..right. the exchange he made.

“huh? oh..! u-uhm..”

“did i fucked your brains out so hard you can’t remember?”

you had to hide your face with your palms because of how vulgar he said those words with a devilish grin. now you know why your boss wanted to know about this man.

he was indeed very mysterious. and charming perhaps.

#blade x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #lily’s.blog🌸#lily’s.fic🩷

744 notes · View notes

floralcrematorium · 2 months

Text

2010s Nostalgia || Hetalia Edition

Hetalia Youtube Nostalgia Playlist | 117 songs | 7hr 5min

• Hey Na Na - Katie Herzig • Viva La Vida - Coldplay • Rasputin - Boney M. • Glad You Came - The Wanted • Hot Mess - Cobra Starship • Counting Stars - OneRepublic • Fireflies - Owl City • Bombshell Blonde - The Jagged Edges • Do Better - Say Anything • Welcome To The Show - Britt Nicole • Dance With The Devil - Breaking Benjamin • Survive - Sick Puppies • Life is Beautiful - Sixx:A.M. • Fairytale - Alexander Rybak • Everybody Loves Me - One Republic • Don't Mess With Me - temposhark • Mimimi - SEREBRO • I Like It Loud - Cash Cash • I Just Wanna Run - The Downtown Fiction • I'm ALIVE! - Becca • Lovestruck - Breathe Electric • I Like To Dance - Hot Chelle Rae • Haven't Had Enough - Marianas Trench • Kiss Me Thru The Phone - Soulja Boy, Sammie • Hard out Here - Lily Allen • Runaway Baby - Bruno Mars • I Don't Care - Fall Out Boy • Airplanes - B.o.B., Hayley Williams • Rock Star - Prima J • This Is War - Thirty Seconds To Mars • Hey Brother - Avicii • Cinderella - Tata Young • Centuries - Fall Out Boy • Déjà Vu - 3OH!3 • Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy Me - Lene Alexandra • Miss Jackson - Panic! At The Disco, LOLO • The Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic! At The Disco • Europe's Skies - Alexander Rybak • Bad Apple!! - RichaadEB, Cristina Vee • Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off - Panic! At The Disco • Let's Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco • Hurricane - Panic! At The Disco • Casual Affair - Panic! At The Disco • Never Close Our Eyes - Adam Lambert • Playing With Fire - Ovi, Paula Seling • Angel With A Shotgun - The Cab • Nicotine - Panic! At The Disco • Killer - The Ready Set • How to Be a Heartbreaker - MARINA • This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race - Fall Out Boy • Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) - My Chemical Romance • Troublemaker - Olly Murs, Flo Rida • Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship, Leighton Meester • I Can't Decide - Scissor Sisters • One Woman Army - Porcelain Black • How To Start A War - Simon Curtis • Maps - Maroon 5 • Do Better - Say Anything • STARSTRUKK - 3OH!3 • Remember Everything - Five Finger Death Punch • The Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin • Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes • When You're Evil - Aurelio Voltaire • Canadian, Please - Julia Bentley, Gunnarolla • Sarah Smiles - Panic! At The Disco • Take Me to Church - Hozier • Viking Death March - Billy Talent • Headstrong - Trapt • Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind • Don't Believe A Word - Third Eye Blind • Warriors - Imagine Dragons • iNSaNiTY - CircusP • Paralyzer - Finger Eleven • I'm Awesome - Spose • 24 - Jem • Clarity - Zedd, Foxes • Hall of Fame - The Script, will.i.am • The Is Gospel - Panic! At The Disco • Immortals - Fall Out Boy • Rather Be - Clean Bandit, Jess Glynne • Wake Me Up - Avicii • a thousand years - Christina Perri • Just Like Fire - P!nk • Safe & Sound - Taylor Swift, The Civil Wars • Safe And Sound - Capital Cities • Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Lorde • Demons - Imagine Dragons • DNA - Little Mix • Remember The Name - Fort Minor, Styles of Beyond • Victorious - Panic! At The Disco • 右肩の蝶 (Butterfly On Your Right Shoulder) - Kagamine Rin/Len • We Are One (Ole Ole) - Pitbull, Jennifer Lopez, Claudia Leitte • Hero - Skillet • Maraca - Mohombi • The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy • DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3 • Teenage Dream - Katy Perry • SING - My Chemical Romance • Good Time - Owl City, Carly Rae Jepsen • White Rabbit - Egypt Central • Not Gonna Die - Skillet • The Kill - Thirty Seconds To Mars • We No Speak Americano - Yolanda Be Cool, DCup • Nobody's Listening - Linkin Park • Disco Pogo - Die Atzen • German Sparkle Party - The Something Experience • Dirty Little Secret - The All-American Rejects • I Could Be The One - Avicii, Nicky Romero • Can't Hold Us - Macklemore & Ryan Lewis • Still Into You - Paramore • Primadonna - MARINA • Pompeii - Bastille • 恋愛サーキュレーション (Renai Circulation) - 物語シリーズ • Awake And Alive - Skillet • Monster - Skillet • Poker Face - Lady Gaga • Falling Inside The Black - Skillet

#i want to personally apologize for the sheer amount of PATD songs there are here #shoutout to the xDayDreamersStudiox “I Don't Care” amv SPECIFICALLY #or the I Don't Care nightcore video with the BFT as the background image #anyway i'm sorry if there are any repeats #this playlist is likely to be updated from time to time as i remember more songs #some of these are really niche and some are personal additions but i hope y'all who were there for the days of imovie AMVs will remember #some of these #aaaaanyway hetalia youtube LOOOOOOOOOVED fob's “Save Rock And Roll” album when it came out #and “American Beauty/American Psycho”#same with panic's “Too Weird To Live/Too Rare To Die” and “Death of a Bachelor”#hetalia #hetalia playlist #hetalia music #hetalia world series #floralcrematorium music #hws #ヘタリア #Spotify

250 notes · View notes

mysticmiav · 3 months

Text

It was Chilumi Fairy Tale week on twitter, and here are my pieces for it✨️🐳

But the walls of that tower could not hide everything☀️

Day 1- Rapunzel au🍳

Red is the colour of destiny🥀

Day 2- Red Riding Hood & Woodcutter au

"It's... made of glass?"

Day 3- Cinderella au🥿

Don't stare at the perspective too much it doesn't make any sense

He recounts stories of his travels to her⚓️

Day 4- Pirate Siren au✍️

Sooo happy with how this one turned out <3

Salty depths hold secrets⚓️🌊

Day 5- Another Pirate Siren au, because I really wanted to draw their roles reversed; this time it's Pirate Lumine Siren Childe~

"What's wrong?"🗡

Day 6- Ella Enchanted au! One of my favourite movies growing up~

For anyone that doesn't know the movie: the story is about a girl named Ella who, when she was born, her fairy (godmother-ish) casted a bleesing of obedience on her. Due to it, Ella obeys any order given to her no matter what, and, well, you can imagine how that goes when the wrong people learn of this information.

The evening star is shinin' bright so make a wish✨️

Day 7- Princess and the frog au🌱

So my initial goal was to just sketch something for every day (since am busy w work and other projects) but it felt like I kept getting carried away each day, my sketches kept getting more detailed and all. So, for the last day, I wanted to lowkey-shitpost it and go for froggies chilumi!✍️

Alright long post but that's all. This was my first time actually making a piece for every day of those types of events & am happy with all of them🖤

327 notes · View notes

gallifreyanhotfive · 5 months

Text

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 3

The Master's father, Marnal, wrote an episode for Star Trek but took his name off it after they changed it too much.

The Fifth Doctor took Tegan back and time to kill that same would-be-dictator as a baby but was also unable to go through with it.

Nyssa once turned the Fifth Doctor into a vampire.

The Time Lords created the Were Lords, a species of lycanthropic soldiers who could regenerate, to fight for them in the Vampire Wars.

The Tenth and Fourteenth Doctors have different enough blood that the Fourteenth Doctor was able to resist blood control that used the Tenth Doctor's blood.

The Garvond is a monstrous entity in the APC Net of the Matrix composed of all the demented, evil sides of the Time Lords.

The First Great Time War was between the Time Lords and the Order of the Black Sun.

The Veil was fond of the Twelfth Doctor and considered them to be companions. The Veil hoped that the Twelfth Doctor would take them with him when he escaped from the confession dial.

Jack Harkness described the Midnight entity as someone who could eat its way into a person's brain and steal their voice. Given that it is unknown where he got this information, this suggests that Jack might have had an encounter at some point.

Both the Doctor and the Master have used the name "Merlin" before.

The final incarnation of the Master was a highly destructive entropy wave in one timeline.

The Eleventh Doctor once returned to the Library with Amy Pond, but he never mentioned River Song. They encountered Book Monsters.

The Doctor's first TARDIS was a Type 50, but they were left behind when the Doctor ran away from Gallifrey. This left them angry and hurt that the Doctor had replaced them, so they ran off from Gallifrey to find him.

According to the Seventh Doctor, the Rani and her giant rodent came to his graduation party.

There exists a canned drink called Sontaran Up that a Sontaran was seen drinking.

The Sixth Doctor's method for fighting the Weeping Angels included winking one eye at a time, so the Angels were always being observed. Given that he was almost immediately sent back in time where he encountered the Tenth Doctor, this isn't a very good method.

Due to similarities between the life stories of the Doctor and the Devil, there are many races who believe they are the same being.

The Thirteenth Doctor, Yaz, and Dan once watched a production of Cinderella. While trying to make it more exciting, the Doctor accidentally replaced all the characters and props with the real versions, who began to attack each other and the audience.

The Doctor had thirteen children before running away on Gallifrey who were all killed (or perhaps a better word would be 'culled') by the Watch after Susan's birth.

The Doctor has had other children over the years (although they did not recognize all of them as such) including but not limited to Miranda Dawkins, Edward Grove, the Sound Creature, Daqar Keep, Jenny, and the Sapling.

Gostak was one of the First Doctor's tutors who he admired very much, but similar to Borusa, he went mad and had to be stopped by several incarnations of the Doctor.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

210 notes · View notes

caffeinewitchcraft · 2 years

Text

Cinderella Doesn’t Believe in Fairytales (pt.6)

summary: Cinderella finds her friend...and his real identity.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3). (Part 4) (part 5)

“You kept your promise,” Cinderella says. She leans her head back to look into the dark canopy of the oak tree. The moon shines through the gaps in the leaves. The magic her friend carries with him slides through the branch. “I’m here.”

“You’re here,” her friend says. A wash or warmth drifts over Cinderella’s face, coaxing her eyes shut. “Don’t look at the magic.”

“It doesn’t hurt me,” Cinderella says. She closes her eyes anyway and smiles. “The dresses are beautiful.”

“I knew you’d pick the green,” her friend says. There’s a long pause. Finally, he says, “Thank you. For coming.”

How odd the words sound! Cinderella is never thanked. It makes her feel full, somehow. Confident. She wants to share the feeling with her friend. “Thank you for keeping your promise.”

There’s no verbal reaction from her friend, but she can tell he’s happy. The moonlight is warmer and the leaves rustle though there’s no breeze. “My pleasure.”

“My stepfamily is here,” Cinderella says after a moment. She smiles and stretches her arms out in front of her. “They look beautiful.”

“No, they don’t,” her friend says. She imagines he’d be curling his lip if he had one. His aura slinks around the tree. “One of them is wearing purple. Doesn’t she know better?”

“It’s lilac.”

“She’ll soon find out if that saves her from the Queen.”

If Cinderella were kind, she’d be concerned by that ominous promise. But Cinderella is selfish because she says, “You saw her?”

“…yes,” her friend says. The courtyard warms another few degrees. “I, er, haven’t told you everything about me.”

Cinderella raises her eyebrows and bites her tongue. She wants to say, we haven’t even exchanged names. Instead she says, “Like how you’re a human?”

“What?” His energy lashes. “Who told you that?”

“Nobody,” Cinderella says. What she can see of the magic through her barely open eyes is darker, responding to his emotions. Cinderella isn’t afraid even when it weighs on her lungs. She huffs a laugh. “I don’t think a tree could pick out dresses.”

Something odd happens then. Cinderella’s eyes are barely open like when first waking up. She can see the glimmer of magic through her eyelashes and the gentle light of the moon on the castle walls. Something seems to step out of the light like smoke solidifying. Her friend’s presence disappears all at once and, startled, Cinderella opens her eyes.

Not a boy, Cinderella’s first thought is.

The man standing in front of her belongs in the sun. She doesn’t know why she thinks that. His hair is as dark as the night sky above and his green eyes shine like stars. He’s beautifully structured, face drawn in broad lines and shoulders squared against her scrutiny. The coat he’s wearing is almost completely black. There are dark swirls of velvet across the lapels that look violet in the moonlight and his dress pants match.

Cinderella watches the way his hands twitch and then still. Rainbows of magic curl out from his back like wings and then fade into thin air as if they never were.

“I,” her friend says, “am not a tree.”

Cinderella surprises herself by laughing. There’s something so him in his first words to her. A little offended, a little embarrassed, a little too commanding. She smiles at her friend. “No, you are not.”

“You…aren’t mad?” Like she’s studying him, he studies her. His eyes flash from her expression to the easy way she’s holding her hands in her lap and he frowns. “Why?”

“Because we’re friends,” Cinderella says simply. She’s always known that they haven’t told each other everything. The important thing is that they know each other. “Friends learn new things about each other all the time.”

He stares at her. He is less easy to read than he was as a tree. There’s no warm energy dancing around her to interpret, no suspiciously timed breeze. He steps forward and then collapses onto the bench next to her like a puppet without strings. The line of his body against her arm is strikingly hot and he is very careful not to jostle her on the narrow bench. He throws a hand over his eyes. “You’re too kind.”

He says the word kind like a curse. Cinderella who is so tired of being kind, of being patient, likes the way he says it. She doesn’t like being accused of it.

“I am not,” she says tartly. It’s hard to look at him seated next to each other like this, but she does her best. She twists, her knees pressing against his, and sits at her full height so she can scowl directly into his face. “Take that back.”

Her friend peeks through his fingers. His lips twitch at the indignation on her face. “I didn’t say anything untrue.”

The almost-smile soothes the sting of her offense. Cinderella has to work hard to keep scowling. “Yes, you did. If I was kind I would be trying to pay you back for bringing me to the Capital and putting me up for a week and giving me a dress. But I’m not, see? I’m only taking.”

“That’s okay,” he says. He drops his hand and grins at her, leaning forward so that their noses are only inches apart. There’s a mean edge in the corners of his mouth that reminds her of winter. “So am I.”

A thrill runs down Cinderella’s spine. They’re so close and there’s a warm darkness in his words that flusters her. What does he mean? She’s the one wearing a dress she could only dream of in a place she couldn’t have dreamt. He hasn’t taken a thing from her, has he? Rather than ask, Cinderella nods firmly. “Good. Then it’s settled. We’re both taking and not paying the other back.”

“Good,” her friend echoes. He’s still close but he’s her friend again, that mysterious quality absent from his voice. He asks, “Have you been enjoying the ball?”

“Oh, yes,” Cinderella says. She’s relieved to be back on familiar ground. “Let me tell you everything.”

And she does. She tells him about Helga and how kind she was (“I’ll be sure to reward her efforts.”) and the coachman who told her the names of the nobles (“There’s no one better to ask for information.”). Her friend’s smile seems a little tight when she describes the dances and her partners (“I know of them. You enjoyed the dancing? That’s all that matters.”), but he also asks her about her favorite song to dance to and if she’s tried any of the food yet.

“I haven’t,” she says. She eyes him. They’ve been talking for half an hour and, as usual, he hasn’t said a word about himself. Usually she’d let that pass, but didn’t she want to change? Didn’t that voice inside of her tell her to ask? “You were in the ballroom if you saw my stepsisters. Did you try anything?”

“Not yet,” he says. He clears his throat and stands, offering her his hand. “Maybe we can try some champagne together?”

Somehow taking his offered hand is daunting. They’ve been sitting shoulder to shoulder, but that wasn’t a deliberate touch. She can still feel his warmth as she wrestles with her sudden embarrassment. Cinderella tries to keep her fingers from trembling when she takes his hand. “…yes.”

If he notices her hesitation, he doesn’t mention it. He gently helps her stand and then tucks her hand into the crook of his arm. “We can come back here later if you’d like.”

Cinderella looks over her shoulder as he leads her back inside. The oak in the middle of the flowers is beautiful and comforting. “I would like that. Later.”

“Later,” he says.

They walk down the deserted hall, side by side. Cinderella’s spent a lifetime keeping her footsteps light so as not to wake her stepfamily. She listens to the sound of his confident stride, ducking her head to hide her flush. His arm is strong under her fingers. Even through his jacket she can feel his warmth chase the chill away. She rubs her fingertips against the velvet details on the fabric. She struggles with herself. Ask. Don’t ask. Finally she says, “This is violet.”

His footsteps don’t falter and he doesn’t tense, but she can feel his aura flutter under her touch. “It is.”

“Violet is purple.”

“Is it?”

The ballroom is coming up. Cinderella stops before the light seeping through the entry falls on her. “Maybe you should go in first.”

He stops with her and catches her hand before she can let go of his arm. He doesn’t look at her, staring straight ahead. He swallows and asks lightly, “You don’t want champagne?”

“I do.” Cinderella can’t ask.

“Then we have to go in. That’s where the champagne is.”

“I know, but…” She can’t ask, but she can say, “Everyone will be looking for the Prince. He’s very late.”

Her friend’s jaw works and slowly, so slowly, his head turns to meet her gaze. “He has reason to be late,” he says. “He had to meet someone very important.”

The way he looks at her tells her who he thinks is important.

There’s that thrill again, like there are butterflies in her stomach. Cinderella fights against a smile and loses. “I’m very important?”

The tension leaks from his aura little by little. “You are.” His eyes search hers. “You aren’t mad again.”

He’s the Prince. Cinderella doesn’t think she’s really processing the information. All she can see is her friend frowning at her, perplexed. She wants to smooth the wrinkle from between his eyes, but refrains. She’s not sure if it’s because the gesture would be too intimate for her or if it’s because it’d be improper to touch the Prince like that.

Oh, she thinks faintly. He’s the Prince.

“I don’t think I am,” she says. She looks back to the door to the ballroom. The music sounds sweet again, complimented by the clinking of glasses and silvery laughter. “I just…they’ll be looking for you. I don’t want to…” She trails off, embarrassed, and looks at the ground.

He takes it the wrong way. His mood darkens his eyes from a summer green to the deepest parts of the forest. “You don’t want to be seen with me.”

“No!” Cinderella jerks, eyes flying up to his. Her desperation to correct him makes her honest. “No, but Stepmother is here and she’ll—well, if she sees you, she’ll see me and I know she’ll see you.”

His aura brightens so quickly that Cinderella has to blink against the flare of magic. The Prince beams down at her. “I can take care of that. I did promise you, didn’t I? Your stepfamily won’t recognize you.”

She resists his lead when he goes to enter the ballroom. “Yes, but I don’t see how! You’re the Prince! The Prince! They’ll announce you and everyone will turn and I’ll be right there—”

The Prince snaps his fingers. The warmth from the meadow descends on Cinderella all at once, rolling over her like the sun does when it rises above the horizon. The Prince grins, rainbows swimming in his eyes. “There. Now only I will recognize you.” He laughs. “Why I didn’t have Helga do that from the beginning…well. I know better now.”

Cinderella blinks magic out of her eyes. “You can do magic?”

“I’ve been talking to you through a tree for years,” the Prince says. He’s not laughing at her. He sounds affectionate. “I get by.” He gestures to the entryway. “Are you ready?”

Cinderella takes a tentative step forward. The warmth follows her. “Are you sure they won’t recognize me?”

“Positive.”

“Then…yes,” Cinderella says. This time when he gently nudges her, she follows. “Alright.”

The Prince takes her through the doorway to the ballroom. At first nobody notices. The room is as she left it, grand and arching and filled with color. Then the volume of the voices and music seems to lower.

“Presenting,” the Master of Ceremonies calls. He’s all the way across the room near where Cinderella first entered, but his eyes are on them. His voice booms across the dancefloor with such clarity it sounds as if he’s right next to them. “Presenting the Prince and the Baron’s Daughter!”

As one, every noble stops dancing, turns, and bows.

----

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to read the next part a week early, please consider supporting me on Patreon where I post all my short stories a week early as well as exclusives!

Patreon (X)

#my writing #Cinderella fan fiction #cinderella retelling #my fairytales

2K notes · View notes

writingpastmybedtime · 5 months

Text

Cinderella AU

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x f!Reader

Summary: The classic Cinderella AU. It's heavily inspired by the Disney live-action remake, but with a few tweaks here and there.

Word Count: 8k, oops..?

Warnings: None, except for extra cute Prince Sebastian.

A/N: It’s my first time writing for Seb at this length & I'm kind of proud of how it turned out. Oh, and I gave Sebastian the nickname 'Bash'. Hope you love it as much as I do!<3

Once upon a time, or however the story begins, there lived a girl named Y/N. She was the most beautiful thing in her parents’ eyes and held the kindest heart. They lived happily in a secluded small mansion. They weren’t the richest per se, but they could keep up with the house and even had a few workers in the kitchen and garden.

As time went by, the girl discovered a passion for music and playing the piano. Her sweet melodies often graced the halls of the house, and whenever she wasn’t behind the piano, she had her face buried deep in a journal, writing down every last thought that had occurred to her that day.

Alas, the time that had passed had also come bearing sombre news. The little girl’s mother had fallen ill with a disease so rare, there was nothing left to do but wait. Those three months spent waiting were the hardest for the girl, as she was always staying beside her mother’s bed, reading to her, brushing her hair, and playing lovely tunes on the piano to soothe her mother’s mind.

It wasn’t until one night, that the clock in the writing room, which her mother so deeply loved, stopped working and the house suddenly grew more quiet.

Years passed, and Y/N grew even more beautiful. She was always happy and kind, helping out everyone around the house and being there for her father. Y/N’s father was a merchant, so it was not uncommon that he had many trips abroad and many foreign friends. He had a certain way with him, his friends even called him a man of many words. He always found a way to insert an inspirational quote into whatever conversation was going on. His personal favourite, however, was a quote about courage.

Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.

“Darling, would you accompany me to the garden?” Her father asked her. Of course, she followed him with a smile on her face. He began to tell her of a widowed woman, with two daughters just a few years older than Y/N. He explained that he’d known the woman's late husband, having met him many times on his travels.

“They need a place to stay and they need a sense of security,” he began shyly, before continuing. “I think I can offer them that, I think we can offer them that.”

Y/N smiled as she took her father's hands in hers. “Father, if it’s something that would make you happy, it would make me even happier.” He smiled at her and pulled her into a hug.

Madam Deveraux was a widowed noblewoman with two daughters, Arabella and Isadora. The Madam herself was mostly reserved and you could never tell what she was thinking just by looking at her. Her gaze always remained strong, even when the death of her dear husband crushed her spirit. As months passed after the tragic death, the demeanour of Madam Deveraux changed. Once just a composed and modest lady, was now hardened at heart, with only one true goal. To see her two daughters succeed and be wed off to rich husbands, no matter the cost.

Arabella, the eldest daughter was certainly pretty on the eyes, however, she had a mouth to her that diminished her beauty to a certain degree. Never afraid to speak her mind and even once in a while throw in a more vulgar term here or there. She was fascinated with all kinds of different adult romance books - that’s where she probably learned those indecent phrases. She also loved to draw, but truth be told, she wasn’t really any good at it.

Isadora, like her sister, was also beautiful in her own way. She certainly wasn’t as crude as her sister, but still had a peculiar sense of self. Her ego was probably the biggest between the three of them. Every reflective surface she saw made her gaze at herself longingly, always fixing her hair or makeup. Always whispering sweet affirmations to herself. She knew she was the prettiest person, whenever she walked into a crowded room. Even if the snobby personality sometimes made her mother’s eyes roll.

After a few weeks, it was time again for Y/N’s father to take his leave. Y/N felt crushed, and a sense of dread filled her heart, making her father promise that he’d return.

Unfortunately, on his travels back from overseas, Y/N’s father fell ill and was never able to return to her. It saddened her deeply, but due to her chores, given to her by her step-mother, she didn’t have time to dwell on her grief.

Months passed, with her chores growing bigger and bigger. She had given up her bedroom because Arabella and Isadora were too cramped up in their own smaller one. Unfortunately for Y/N, instead of getting the smaller room for herself, she had to stay in a storage room right next to the kitchen. It wasn’t the most tedious place to be, for someone somewhere must’ve had to have even worse living conditions. That thought kept her appreciating her commodities and trying to tidy up the tiny storage room as best as she could.

“Y/N, could you be a dear and help your sisters with their dresses?” Madam Deveraux’s cold voice could be heard from upstairs, as Y/N was just finishing up setting the table in the kitchen. Sighing, but still with a smile on her face, the girl walked upstairs to assist her step-sisters. Arabella was tugging Isadora’s corset, to make it more tight, as Isadora was standing near the mirror letting out gasps of air.

“A little bit of help, please?” Isadora asked in her saccharine voice, looking at Y/N through her mirror. Y/N nodded and took over from Arabella, pulling and pulling until the corset was perfectly on Isadora’s body.

“Hmm, I look good, don’t you think so?” Isadora spun around, now in her huge pink sparkling dress, which did not do her beauty any justice. Y/N, however, was not one to judge. She just smiled lightly and nodded.

“Pfft, as if you had any sense of style,” Isadora went to grab her rings, before putting them on her dainty fingers. Her brown hair was curled in an updo and she had put on a plethora of perfume, that was way too sweet, but ironically, fit her perfectly.

“Hah, you’re right sissy, this wench does not know anything about fashion. I mean look at how she’s dressed right now.” Arabella looked at Y/N from head to toe, her face grimacing. Y/N lowered her head to look at her grey dress. Yes, it wasn’t as fancy as the gowns on her step-sisters, but it had belonged to her mother. The grey dress made her feel some kind of sanity, running around doing chores for the Deverauxs’. Picking invisible lint from the pocket of her skirt, the step-sisters just laughed at how humiliated Y/N looked.

“Yes, you do look absolutely atrocious as of late,” Isadora smirked as Arabella grinned, taking joy in embarrassing Y/N. “You’re just plain ugly,” the eldest sister managed to get out before laughing.

“Here, take this, go buy yourself something prettier,” Isadora scoffed as she handed Y/N three silver pieces. You could not get anything fairly pretty with that kind of sum. Y/N had given up on pretty dresses a while ago, being content with the ones her mother had left her. She shook her head at the silver coins, not accepting the pity donation.

“Fine have it your way, I was just trying to be nice,” Isadora threw the silver pieces on the floor as Arabella snorted in an unladylike manner. “Now leave, as I remember correctly Mama wanted you to go down to the forest to pick up some flowers for the gathering tonight.”

Y/N nodded to the girls, before hastily leaving the room, blinking back tears. She had grown accustomed to their derogatory comments, but that didn’t mean a part of her always ached at their remarks. Never had she been anything, but good and friendly towards the girls and their mother. She shook her head, as if to shake it clear from the depressing thoughts and picked up a dark-brown wooden basket from the kitchen table.

The walk from the house to the forest was always Y/N’s favourite. As soon as the house with the hectic people inside of it disappeared from her field of view, a certain kind of calmness filled Y/N. It was as if she could finally breathe without restrictions. Even the world around her seemed a little bit more saturated. Birds were flying around, singing their beautiful songs; it was spring after all. Y/N started to hum a melody she used to love to play the most on her piano.

Y/N twirled around and smiled, suddenly feeling joyous and elated. She closed her eyes, still twirling, liking the feel of the afternoon sun on her face. A total bliss. Suddenly, when taking her last twirl, she felt her foot get stuck on a tree root and braced herself for a fall.

However, the fall did not come.

Instead, strong hands had grasped her waist, holding her a few centimetres off the ground. Y/N finally opened her eyes, the sun making her squint a little before finally her vision was back in focus. She was looking into blue eyes. Into the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen. Serene, deep blue eyes, that she could get lost in. That she did get lost in.

“Miss, are you alright?” Y/N blinked, before realising the man was still holding her. She stumbled to get out of his grasp, before wiping her dress from invisible dirt. Her cheeks flushed pink, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you..?” Y/N said, waiting for the person’s name to finish her sentence. To thank him personally. She now had time to look at the man that had so gracefully caught her. He had brown medium-length hair, which seemed abnormally soft and Y/N wished she could tread her fingers through it. The man smiled, no grinned rather, and Y/N was taken aback by how handsome this stranger looked.

“You really don’t know who I am?” The man chuckled and Y/N shook her head quizzically. Was she supposed to know him? She browsed through her brain, wondering who this man could be; maybe she’d met him before. But no, she’d remember him. She could never forget those eyes.

Y/N saw a peculiar look in his gaze before his grin grew even bigger and he introduced himself. “My name’s Bash,” he said, and Y/N furrowed her brows, but smiling nonetheless.

“That’s a peculiar name,” she spoke, before realising her comment was nowhere near acceptable nor did it come off as friendly. The man, Bash, as she’d learned, let out a genuine laugh at the comment. Y/N felt embarrassed and was about to apologise before he stopped her.

“I like your candour,” he smirked. “It’s actually a nickname. A name that my father calls me whenever I haven’t done anything to upset him.” Y/N smiled, no longer feeling embarrassed, but just a little bit of something else. A strange warm feeling was creeping up in her chest.

“Well, thank you, Bash, for catching me. And I’m sorry you even had to, I’m not normally so clumsy.”

“It’s no problem, besides, what even is a beautiful girl like you doing out in these woods anyway?” Bash asked, not being able to take his eyes off Y/N. He’d never seen a girl so beautiful before. And ‘beautiful’ was not even enough to describe her.

“Oh, I’m just on my way to get flowers for a party later on. Which does remind me, that I should be on my way,” Y/N looked down at her basket, which she hadn’t fortunately dropped, when she had stumbled. Realisation hit her then, that he’d called her beautiful, but she couldn’t believe it. Perhaps she’d heard wrong?

“Do you work nearby?” Bash asked, his eyes still admiring her own. He did not want to leave her this soon after just meeting. But her duty called and truth be told, so did his. He wasn’t even supposed to be out here. He was out riding with his horse when suddenly he heard the most beautiful voice humming somewhere nearby. Having left his horse a few metres behind, was when he finally saw her. She was twirling and twirling and completely not noticing the tree root that was about to make her fall on the next twirl. Thankfully, he was fast and had caught her on time.

“Yes, I do. Are you from around here as well?” Y/N asked politely. Knowing that she should be going now, but his eyes were just too mesmerising, to not look away from, that she stayed grounded.

“I actually work at the castle,” he said, his eyes turning pink as if he was embarrassed about the notion. Y/N smiled at that. “Must be nice,” she thought out loud, as Bash just shook his head at her comment.

“Depending on the day, it can be a little bit too much sometimes.” Y/N nodded at that, trying to understand what it must be like working amidst hundreds of people. Working for royalty.

“Well, it’s like my father always taught me,” she began as she gave him the sweetest smile. “Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” Bash raised his eyebrow at that. “And do you feel like that?”

“Huh?”

“Do you feel seen?” He inquired, and Y/N shrugged. The question was raw - she hadn’t expected that. Did she feel seen? No, not as of late. But she couldn’t tell him that, now could she? She noticed the sun had turned just a tiny bit more golden and felt fear rush through her. She was supposed to be making supper for the Deverauxs and their guests.

“Look, it’s been wonderful having this chat with you, but I really must take my leave,” she nodded to him, taking her basket and turning around, completely forgetting about the flowers.

Bash felt a tinge of sadness in him, before nodding and giving her a final smile. “Well, it was wonderful making your acquaintance. I hope to see you again someday.” Y/N turned around at his voice. She nodded, grinning at him.

“So do I.”

“Soon,” Bash said and saw Y/N blush, before finally taking her leave.

She found some wild poppies just behind the house and hoped they’d do. Fortunately, Madam Deveraux only gave her a quizzical look, before dismissing her. She took a breath, thanking the gods that her step-mother did not freak out over the flower arrangement. All evening as she was making supper for everyone, her thoughts went back to the kind stranger she’d met.

Bash.

Y/N was browsing through the city fair, currently looking at new books she wished she could buy when suddenly a horn was heard above in the upper city. She glanced up from the booth towards the sound, seeing everyone gathering around.

“Hear ye, hear ye,” a man in a formal outfit began. Behind him stood many other men, dressed the same.

These were men from the castle, she concluded. Her thoughts went to Bash for a second, before focusing back on the man giving out the information.

“As requested by His Royal Highness, Prince Sebastian, there is to be a ball, for two weeks hence, in honour of him choosing a bride. As per his wishes, the ball is open to everyone in the country.”

Squeals and cheers were coming from every corner of the city at the news. Y/N suddenly felt very happy. Maybe this was her chance to see Bash again in the castle, after all, he did say he worked there.

Having made her way back home, she rushed to Madam Deveraux, who was sitting in the living room with Arabella and Isadora. The latter was playing the piano. Correction, trying to play, for Y/N, did not know it was possible to make that kind of noise on the delicate instrument.

“What has gotten you in a rush? Your dress is all dirty again,” Arabella scrunched her face, clearly disgusted by Y/N’s clothing once again.

“I was just in the city when they announced there is to be a ball in two weeks as the Prince is to finally choose a bride. It’s open to everyone.” She smiled as she saw Madam Deveraux jump up from the couch, her daughters following her. Suddenly they screamed and the two girls jumped around.

“I’m going to be the new princess,” Isadora squealed before Arabella nudged her on the shoulder.

“No, I am!” Arabella insisted before Madam Deveraux made them quiet down.

“Y/N, you have to go into town and get three beautiful dresses,” Madam Deveraux smiled at her, a new prosperous future in mind for her daughters. She knew they had to look their best to catch the eye of the Prince.

“Yes, yes I will. Thank you for letting me come with you.” Y/N said as she was about to leave back to the city, her mind joyous and excited. Madam Deveraux had finally accepted her as part of the family and she got to go to the ball as well.

“Come with us?” Madam Deveraux scoffed and raised her eyebrow. “Why in the seven hells do you think you’re coming with us?”

Y/N started to say something before she was rudely cut off.

“Nuh, uh-uh.” Madam Deveraux pointed her finger at Y/N. “You do not belong at events like these. You will not go, I forbid you.”

Y/N felt tears in her eyes, not understanding why she was being so mean to her.

“Oh, Mama, look. You’ve made the duckling cry.” Arabella snickered and Isadora laughed.

“But why? All I’ve ever done is be nice to you. I do all these chores, you ask of me, and more.” Y/N started shaking but was reluctant to let out real tears. They cannot see me cry, she thought to herself.

“Have you ever considered that you’re maybe just not enough? Not enough pretty, not enough smart,” Madam Deveraux took steps toward Y/N, placing a finger under her jaw, pulling Y/N to look at her. “You’re no one.” Madam Deveraux turned away, before muttering instructions that Y/N was to buy dresses for the three of them the following day.

TWO WEEKS LATER

After helping the Deveraux sisters into their beautiful ball gowns and doing their hair, Y/N watched them leave in a big beige carriage. Letting her shoulders shrug, she finally let out the tears she’d been holding in. Y/N had hoped to visit the ball as well, hoping to see the blue-eyed man who had taken over her thoughts.

Y/N heard footsteps behind her and her name being called, before turning around and seeing Anastasia, an older lady that she’d known all of her life. Anastasia was a neighbour, a lovely woman, who always took care of Y/N whenever it was needed. Anastasia did not like the way Madam Deveraux had started treating Y/N after her father died and even offered to let Y/N move in with her. However, Y/N always passed the opportunity down, saying that she made a promise to her mother and father to look after the house.

“My dear,” Anastasia came closer, taking Y/N’s hand and seeing the tear trails on her face. “Why are you not at the ball? Everyone’s invited.”

Y/N shook her head, before explaining that Madam Deveraux had forbidden her to attend the event. Anastasia pursed her lips, before muttering, more to herself than to Y/N.

“This will not do,” then louder, “this will not do at all.” She grabbed Y/N’s arm and started pulling her towards her house which was just a few minutes further away. “You will go to the ball, end of story.”

“But how? I have no horse to take me, let alone a carriage. Nor do I have a dress that is suitable for this kind of event.” Y/N saw Anastasia grin, before ushering her faster towards her house.

“Have courage, dear one. I will make sure you get everything.”

And just as Anastasia said, Y/N had it all. Anastasia was a well-endowed lady, who did not have the joy of getting to raise a daughter of her own. No, she was instead blessed with three sons. So it was mere luck, and perhaps a little bit of something else, that Anastasia had a beautiful periwinkle blue dress in her closet waiting to be worn. It fit Y/N perfectly as if it was made only for her to wear.

Anastasia did Y/N’s hair next, whilst explaining that she’d already talked with her personal chauffeur, who was to take Y/N to the ball.

“I cannot begin to thank you enough, Lady Anastasia,” Y/N had tears in her eyes, although this time they were there for another reason. Gratitude.

“Oh, stop it, dear. I’ve told you a thousand times to not call me that, it makes me feel old,” she grimaced, before helping Y/N into the carriage. As Y/N took a step, Anastasia saw her shoes, which looked worn out and definitely didn't go along with the dress. She muttered something under her breath, before looking at Y/N again.

“There’s something in a box inside the carriage. Make use of them. And make sure to dance.” Y/N furrowed her brows, trying to understand, before she took her seat and felt the carriage take off slowly. “But wait, what about Madam Deveraux and the step-sisters? Won’t they recognize me?” Y/N asked worriedly, looking back at the kind woman.

“Oh, don’t worry about something so trivial, my dear, it’s already been taken care of,” Anastasia winked, before remembering, “and before I forget, try to return at midnight. I cannot explain why, but it’s imperative that you do so. You have to be back when the clock strikes twelve.” With a smile, Anastasia stayed behind, waving at Y/N.

Y/N was a bit confused, even more so when she opened the box that was on the seat in front of her. Beautiful shoes, made out of iridescent glass, were inside the box. She gasped when she took one in her hand, not even feeling the weight of it, expecting it to be heavier. She slipped off her slippers, before trying on the glass shoes.

They fit perfectly. As if these shoes, just like the dress, were made just for her. Maybe Anastasia was a witch? No, that sounds too evil. Maybe she was her Fairy Godmother. Y/N chuckled at the silly idea of magic but still felt curious about the predicament she was in.

Y/N didn’t have enough time to dwell on the whereabouts of her dress and shoes before she saw the castle in front of her. Only a few minutes separated her from the majestic building.

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen,” she whispered to herself, looking longingly at the castle ahead.

The castle itself was beautiful. Y/N had never seen a building so marvellous in her life. Taking slow steps through the garden in front of the castle, she was in awe. Twirling around and trying to take it all in. The castle inside was just about the same. Mesmerising to the point of Y/N being left speechless. She imagined what it’d be like to live here. So in contrast to her current living conditions.

Before she knew it, she was standing behind a huge door, with two guards standing on each side of it. This must be the ballroom, she figured. She gave a nod and a curtsy to the guards before they nodded in return and opened the doors.

She heard the buzz of the voices first, before walking towards the balcony that was connected to the ground floor of the ballroom. About a hundred and fifty other people were mingling downstairs, not counting the guards and other workers.

She began to make her descent down the marvellous staircase, walking slowly, as if not to ruin the dress and not to stumble on her feet. She felt anxious, before reminding herself of her father's wise words again.

It was then that Bash saw her, from across the room. He’d been waiting for her for hours now. Hoping that she’d grace the castle with her beauty. And what a beauty she was, indeed. He was left bewildered when he saw her. She looked otherworldly.

She looked ethereal.

As if they were magnets, he felt an invisible string pull him towards her. He apologised to the princess currently in front of him and nodded to his father, before taking his leave and stepping onto the dance floor.

Y/N had just reached the last step when she noticed the crowd parting and giving her way. At the end of the tunnel of people, she saw him.

It was him, it was truly him.

Bash.

And oh, the way he looked at Y/N. As if she’d hung the stars in the sky.

He grinned when he was finally near enough to notice the sparkling eyeshadow on her eyelids and the pink tone of her lips.

“Wow, just wow,” Bash let out, scratching the back of his head. A habit of his, whenever he was nervous. “I’m speechless, really.” Bash said, before taking Y/N’s hand and placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles.

“You look breathtaking,” he said, looking up. Y/N blushed heavily, still not having noticed the ballroom growing quiet. All she saw was him. He was wearing a dark blue suit, with small gold intricate details, that made him look regal. It was then, Y/N realised, he was probably not just a mere worker in a castle.

“Would you allow me this dance?” He said as he stood up straight again. Y/N nodded, not trusting her words at the moment. He took her hand gently on his, placing his other on her waist. The pull between them only grew, the magnetic feel forcing them to be as close as possible.

And then they danced. He was a wonderful leader, and fortunately for Y/N, she was not so bad herself on a dancefloor, having taken dance lessons in her youth. The pair only had eyes for each other, completely ignoring the looks they were getting all over the ballroom. Some were jealous, some were elated, and some were more than angry with the outcome happening right now.

Y/N grinned as Bash twirled her not once, but twice, and then made her fall into his arms. The song ended and they were both out of breath. Y/N felt Bash put a strand of hair behind her ear, looking longingly into her eyes. He leaned in, before closing his eyes and stopping himself.

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Y/N nodded as he led her away from the dancefloor to the confines of a secluded room filled with high bookshelves. There were rows and rows of books. Y/N twirled around, taking it all in. She’d never seen bookshelves this high before.

They were in a library.

Sebastian noticed how Y/N smiled in awe as she took it all in. He just had a feeling she would like it.

“You didn’t tell me you were a prince, Prince Sebastian,” Y/N said when she turned around from admiring the thousands of books gracing the shelves. Bash chuckled.

“I told you I worked at the castle. Which is true,” Y/N narrowed her eyes before smiling.

“I just didn’t specify,” Bash said, a finality in his tone. Y/N then saw him truly as he was, as a future king.

A kind future king, she acknowledged.

“True,” she took another longing look at the bookshelves before something else caught her eye on the other side of the room.

There was a black grand piano, waiting to be played. Almost calling her name as she took steps towards it. Bash saw what her eyes had fixed on, a grin growing on his face.

“Do you play?” He asked as Y/N let her fingers slide tenderly across the black-and-white keys.

“I used to,” Y/N said honestly, still gazing longingly at the beautiful instrument in front of her. “I haven’t in a while, not since my father passed.” Bash looked at her sorrowfully, before whispering his condolences.

Sebastian took a seat in front of the piano, patting the place next to him. Y/N blushed before she obliged.

She watched Sebastian place his hands on the piano, pressing a few keys, which made the sweetest tune. She closed her eyes and hummed to herself when she heard him continue. Suddenly the sound stopped and she opened her eyes to come face to face with Bash.

“Your turn,” he whispered, his face was so close to hers, that she could feel his breath on her face. She blushed but shook her head.

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“I shouldn’t, really.”

“You should, really.”

“I will.” She said finally, seeing Sebastian grin before she placed her trembling hands on the keys.

She took a breath before letting her hands take over, the notes she played were familiar to her, never forgotten. Even if she hadn’t played them in so long. She let herself be carried by the tune, until at some point, there was a dialogue.

Sebastian had accompanied her on the piano, he was playing on his side, giving supporting yet beautiful notes to the ones she played. Y/N was enthralled and totally mesmerised by the music.

So was he. Before today, Sebastian was sure Y/N could not surprise him anymore. She was already perfect enough. But here she was, letting out a precious and delicate part of herself that not many could see. She trusted him. And he appreciated it more than Y/N could ever imagine.

Later on in their life, Bash would tell Y/N that this was the moment he fell in love with her.

As with all good things in life, the song came to an end, and Y/N removed her hands from the keyboard to her lap. Fidgeting with her fingers, as if suddenly ashamed of letting someone see her so bare.

Sebastian placed two fingers underneath her jaw, making Y/N look at him. Her eyes were so vulnerable, that he wanted to fix everything in her life. Not knowing anything about her, but vowing to himself that he’d do anything and everything in his power to make sure she was happy at all times.

Their faces were close again, just one small nudge, and he could feel her lips on his. Y/N saw as Bash’s gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, hers following the action. They were so–so close. Sebastian nudged Y/N’s nose with his own as if asking for permission. Y/N closed her eyes and grinned, him doing the same, and just as their lips were about to meet, Y/N heard the clock strike.

Her eyes flew wide open and she pulled away. Looking at the clock behind them, she realised she was running out of time.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to go,” Y/N said apologetically, coming to stand. Bash followed immediately, wanting to grasp her arm, but not wanting to overstep.

“You’ve been absolutely wonderful and I’ve had the time of my life, truly.” She started walking away, fast. Sebastian was bewildered, not understanding what went wrong.

“Why are you in a hurry?” He asked, giving her a smile to try to ease the sudden tension in the room.

“It’s hard to explain, I don’t even understand it myself. But I made a promise,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. Bash was trailing behind her; they still weren’t out of the confines of the library. “I don’t break my promises.”

“Then promise me, we will meet again,” Sebastian told her, as he saw her quicken the pace. She was at the door now. The door that connected to the ballroom. The door that would bring them back to reality. She gave him one last look over her shoulder, grinning at him the way she’d never before when she finally whispered so only he could hear.

“Goodbye, Prince Sebastian.”

She took off and Sebastian followed. He felt his pulse quicken in his chest, for he had been so close to telling her that he’d chosen her as his bride.

And she’d used his full name. Not the nickname he’d given her.

Bash felt dread creep up on him. This wasn’t supposed to end like this.

And that’s when he realised he didn’t know her name. All this time together, and he had forgotten to ask the simplest of questions.

She had passed the ballroom now and Sebastian tried his hardest to catch up. With his luck, though, what with being the prince and all, he wasn’t so quick. Girls touched him and pulled him into them, everyone trying to score a chance at a dance with the Prince Sebastian.

Sebastian muttered countless apologies, before finally getting free of the wandering hands and quickening his pace towards her.

Y/N tried to run as fast as she could. Suddenly she stumbled and one of her glass shoes had fallen off. She looked behind herself and saw Bash following her, even if he was a bit farther behind. She did not have time to go back for the shoe, trying to get the other one off her foot, while still running.

She finally made her way to her carriage, letting it drive away. In her last glance towards the castle, she saw Bash picking up her glass shoe, holding it to his chest, and looking longingly towards the carriage. She blinked and felt moisture on her cheeks. She was devastated by leaving him, but he was a prince. He was the Prince Sebastian and she was just a commoner. A maid, if she could be called even that as of late. However, the feeling was bittersweet, as she’d have memories of this night to remind herself for the years to come.

The way his hands had felt, the way he had looked at her, the way his breath had made goosebumps on her skin when his nose brushed against hers.

The carriage dropped her off at her house, and she hastily made her way into her small room. As she changed into her other dress, the grey one that was her mother's, she noticed that her periwinkle dress was gone. She had just hung it up in her closet, but it was nowhere. She looked again and again, pulling out every other dress in her closet, but nothing.

It was as if it was never even there.

All that remained, which reminded her of the evening spent with the Prince, were her memories and the small glass shoe on the ground in her closet. Reminders, that she hadn’t imagined her time in the castle and that it had been real.

It was quiet until she heard voices coming from the hallway. Annoyed voices.

“I cannot believe, we didn’t get to dance with the Prince,” Isadora said grumpily, sitting down at the dining room table with a disappointed look. “All because of that stupid girl in that pretty dress.”

“At least I touched him,” Arabella closed her eyes, trying to remember the feel of his shoulder beneath her fingers. “He was so firm,” Arabella continued to daydream and took a seat next to her sister. Madam Deveraux was the last to arrive in the room, taking note of Y/N and how bubbly she suddenly looked.

She had a certain spring in her step, when she finally brought the food on the table, for them to eat. Madam Deveraux raised her eyebrow, eyeing Y/N thoroughly, but not saying a word. She thought Y/N would be more devastated at not having had the opportunity to attend the ball.

Something was going on. And she did not like it one bit.

Y/N spent the rest of her evening writing everything down in her diary. She wrote of every minute spent in the castle and her time with the Prince. Mostly, she wrote of the Prince.

It was a month after the ball when Y/N went to her room to check her closet. She had a peculiar feeling in her chest as if something were amiss. Her diary had been exactly where she’d left it, but to her surprise the glass shoe was missing. Y/N looked around her closet, but it was nowhere in sight.

“Are you looking for this?” She heard the cold voice of Madam Deveraux from the doorstep, before looking at her quizzically. “It’s a wonderful little thing, isn’t it.” Madam Deveraux said, looking at the shoe in her hand and then at Y/N. “Do you even know that there’s a countrywide search for whoever wore these shoes to the ball?”

Y/N was surprised, for she did not know the Prince was looking for her. Mostly because she hadn’t even been out of the house these previous weeks. Madam Deveraux had been giving her more chores than she could manage and now she figured out why.

“I won’t even begin to ask where you acquired such a thing, for I simply do not care.” Madam Deveraux hit the glass shoe on the wall next to her, making Y/N gasp and let out a weak ‘no’.

Madam Deveraux smirked, taking pleasure in Y/N’s sorrowful state. “It’s only a matter of time before they knock on our door. And you will not be a part of this household when they ask. It’s only me, Arabella and Isadora.” She grinned darkly, looking at Y/N sitting on the floor, tears in her eyes.

“Do you understand? Do you now, finally, understand that sometimes a person of your stature is just not enough?” Y/N whimpered as Madam Deveraux closed the door of her room, locking it behind her.

Y/N looked around herself, she had approximately enough food in her room to last her a few days, but she had finally accepted her fate. She would never see Bash again.

It was the afternoon of the next day when Madam Deveraux heard knocking on her door. She placed on her most pleasant smile and opened the door wide, to be met with the new King’s chancellor.

“Hello, we are here on behalf of His Majesty the King, to try to find his beloved. Are there any ladies in your household, to whom this shoe might belong?” The man in a dark blue suit asked, showing Madam Deveraux the glass shoe she was all familiar with.

Madam Deveraux was thrilled. She had ordered her daughters to lotion their feet daily and to try to squish them into smaller shoes, for she had to be sure that one of them would find their place near the King.

Arabella was first, as was expected of the eldest daughter. She let out a bunch of profanities while trying on the shoe, pushing and pulling the glass to try to fit into it. “One more time,” she said, her face completely red from the puffing and huffing.

“Oh, give up already,” Isaroda said, whilst nudging her sister, making her fall and catching the shoe in her hand.

As expected, it didn’t fit her either.

Madam Deveraux was absolutely annoyed with her daughters, completely disappointed in their incompetence.

“I am sorry for wasting your time, Madam Deveraux,” the chancellor said, as he was stepping out of the house. Just as he was about to get back on his horse, there was humming to be heard.

The loveliest voice was humming a tune somewhere in the house. Madam Deveraux’s eyes shot up, trying to close the door behind her.

The chancellor raised an eyebrow. “Is there someone else in the house with you?”

Madam Deveraux smiled smugly, however slightly shaken with the idea of the kingsmen hearing Y/N’s humming. She shook her head.

“No, there is no one, but me and my two daughters.”

“You’re lying,” said a strong voice, as a man jumped off his horse. He removed his hood, and everyone gasped.

It was Prince Sebastian. No, he was King Sebastian now. His father had fallen ill and given Sebastian the throne early.

Madam Deveraux was flabbergasted and immediately curtsied. “M-my prin-King, My King, I had no idea, you’d be here.”

Sebastian took a few steps forward, still hearing the tune of Y/N’s humming. He knew it was her. It was the same song they’d played on the piano together.

Sebastian looked at his chancellor, nodding towards the house. “Want to check it out, or should I?”

His chancellor, his best friend, smirked when he saw the glint in Sebastian’s eye. “Go ahead, Your Majesty.” Sebastian grinned before fastening his pace and entering the house. He followed the humming to the small door near the kitchen.

Sebastian saw that the door was locked, so with one, really-really strong pull he tore the lock off the door and exhaled before opening the door.

Y/N had no idea what was going on. She had been trying to calm herself ever since Madam Deveraux had locked her in this room. So when she heard noises coming behind the door, she had expected the worst.

What she didn’t expect, however, were the kind eyes of Bash.

Sebastian faltered, his steps coming to a stop. There she stood. His beloved. His Queen. He furrowed his brows as he took in her commodities. The way she was dressed. The way her eyes were red-rimmed - an indication that she had been crying.

She had been locked up.

Everything suddenly made sense to him and he wasted no time in hurrying towards Y/N and pulling her to him. Hugging her so close to him, finally, finally, feeling her in his arms.

“Bash,” She let out weakly and Sebastian just shushed her, placing his head on hers. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

Y/N tried to push herself away from him, afraid to get even more hurt. She had felt enough disappointment and grief in her life to experience it again. And grief she would feel if she lost Bash too. So it was easier to push him away before her feelings got too strong. Although, deep down, she knew there was already no turning back. She had fallen for him. Deeply.

But Sebastian wouldn’t budge, he was only grinning more widely when he realised that Y/N, the one he was looking for, was safely in his arms.

“Do you know that I have a countrywide search put out for you?” He asked casually, not even minding that she was trying to break free of his hold. Letting his fingers run through her hair, silently comforting her.

“Bash, have you even realised who I am?” Y/N looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “I'm a nobody. A maid at best. I have no prospects, no dowry. I am not someone you want next to you to rule a kingdom.”

Sebastian laughed at that, pulling the smaller one closer to his chest, letting his head fall on her own again. “That’s where you’re wrong, darling,” He inhaled her scent before placing a kiss on her head.

“You’re strong, you’re honest. Your heart is made of gold. You’re the only person I want to share the throne with.”

She finally looked up into his eyes, to see the most sincere gaze ever directed towards her.

“Well, aren’t you supposed to give me a shoe to try on then? Or have I heard wrong?” She finally retaliated and he chuckled at that.

“Fair enough,” he said before slowly kneeling in front of Y/N.

She looked at him, Prince Sebastian, no, King Sebastian now, on one knee, holding up a glass shoe.

Her glass shoe.

“May I?” Bash cheekily said, before Y/N blushed, and pulled up her skirt just a bit to give Sebastian her leg.

Bash placed her foot in the shoe, and as a surprise to neither of them, it fit her perfectly. His eyes found hers instantly, a strong, confident look in his gaze.

“Can I now, finally, know your name?”

She laughed at that, a tear escaping her eye as she finally began to realise that her old life was coming to an end.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” she said as Sebastian’s eyes glossed over as well.

“Y/N,” Bash tried the name out on his tongue, and he liked how it sounded. He closed his eyes and shook his head, before looking at Y/N again with a new determination in his face.

“Y/N, would you please do me the honour of marrying me and making me the happiest man to ever walk this Earth? I promise to give everything in me to make you happy. To keep you safe. Please, just please, end my misery and come back to the castle with me. As my equal. As my Queen.”

Y/N fell on her knees in front of Bash, her tears falling on her cheeks, although she did not care for them at that moment. All she saw was Sebastian’s face near her as she started to nod and laugh.

“Yes?” Bash looked at Y/N with a hopeful gaze, placing his hands on either side of her face, and pulling her towards him.

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling Bash’s forehead on her own.

“Yes.”

Time stopped then.

Sebastian pulled Y/N closer to himself and finally connected their lips. Magical was not even the word to begin to describe how it felt like. They were made for each other, of that, were they both certain. Y/N had never experienced anything like this before. His lips were so smooth and soft on her own that she let out a whimper. Bash smiled at that and Y/N followed.

They both pulled away, grinning at each other.

“I love you,” Bash said, caressing Y/N’s face with his right hand.

“I love you,” Y/N said before Bash connected their lips again.

It was no surprise that the wedding of Y/N and Sebastian happened only a week after their first kiss. Y/N had moved into the castle immediately after Sebastian had caught her locked up in the storage room. Madam Deveraux was put to trial, for treating Y/N the way she had. Arabella and Isadora, although crude in their temper, were pardoned, but made to leave the country, effective immediately.

As for Y/N and Sebastian?

Well, their story is just at the beginning, filled with sweet kisses and even sweeter memories.

“Do you have any idea how happy you’ve made me?” Bash asked as he held Y/N, his wife now, close to himself.

“Hmm, I can begin to imagine it’s something close to the way I feel,” Y/N chuckled and Sebastian laughed, finally taking a look at her.

Ethereal, he thought. She stood in front of him in their shared bedroom, still in her white gorgeous wedding gown.

Sebastian just shook his head, still in disbelief that his happily ever after was in his arms at last. He pulled Y/N closer and placed his lips on hers. The one of many kisses shared that night.

#sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan cinderella au #sebastian stan fairytale au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

164 notes · View notes