#wilbur foot

[sanderchu]

Wilbur getting reader a cat for Christmas?

Cat in a box 📦

Reader: Gn!reader

[writing] or hcs

Summary: It’s Christmas Day and you and Wilbur have a day planned full of gifts and warmth, until you hear a sound coming from a big box under the tree

You both laid in the same bed with his big arms draped over you trapping you in a feeling of warmth despite the cold snowy morning. You moved around in the bed as you started to wake up making your lover do the same thing. He groaned he let go of you as you both sat up in bed. You both looked at each other with tired eyes. Usually Wilbur would be the type to keep you in bed but on Christmas it was special even if it was just the two of you that’s even better for him. “Good morning beautiful” he said mumbling into your forehead as he kissed it, “Merry Christmas”. “Merry Christmas will”

By the time you knew it something hit you both with an insane amount of energy as you both had soft Christmas music as you both danced together making a delicious breakfast full of cheer for you both. The room filled the air with the warm smell of the cooking. Wilbur offered to finish off the meal so you decide to make your guys drinks to bring to the living room to still help out in a way. As you made the drinks you finished up them up and went to the living room to put them on the table where the music was more faint so if someone was talking to you it would be quite easy to hear.

So with that you started to hear a meow? You were confused as nothing was on in the living room and it was to clear to be the music. That’s when you saw a big box with holes on the top and sides move a bit. You panicked a bit thinking it was a creature of some kind but you still slowly approached the box. As you got to the box you kneeled down and slowly opened the lid. You looked into the book to see, a cat?!? A pretty *insert color* cat. You smiles grew on your face as you picked up the little trouble maker making you land on the floor with the baby in your hands.

“I thought gifts were after” you turned your head to see Wilbur leaning on the wall with a grin of joy. You let out a laugh as he walked over and crouched next to you. “Hello there baby” he said to the cat in a baby voice as he poked the cats nose and you couldn’t help but smile wider than before. Will wrapped an arm around your shoulder making you look at him so he quickly took the chance to place a peck on your lips. “Merry Christmas y/n” he smiled, “merry Christmas will”

“Do you have a name for our new family member?”

#dsmp imagine #dsmp scenario #dsmp x reader #dsmp #mcyt imagine #mcyt #mcyt x reader #scenario #wilbur foot #wilbur x y/n #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot

[dr3amofagame]

what does it take to end the disc war and the answer is c!wilbur putting the damn things on a shelf and telling dream and tommy no . lol

#while threatening to kill himself but we can ignore that bit #but yeah do u guys ever think abt how the seemingly unsolvable conflict could be solved literally just by wilbur putting his foot down

[mysticalsoot]

"I didn't know you loved Lovejoy" sibling

"it's my entire personality" me

"no no, it's not. your personality is Wilbur soot." sib

#connorshitposts #they know me so well #its true #i am a mini wilbur #in height too #literally like a foot and five inches shorter than him #i thought i was 5'4 #that was a lie #i am not #bee<3

[burritello3000]

Batman/TMNT Comics 2 Scene

You know that one scene in the Batman/TMNT 2 comics where Donnie is almost killed by that foot soldier and he starts doubting himself and that starts the whole thing off? Well, it’s that scene but Riseified. I couldn’t get this idea out of my head but I didn’t want to write a whole fic so I decided to just write this one scene. (PS: I apologize in advance if your name is are Daryl or Wilbur) This takes place during Season 1, after Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man but while Baron Draxum has just taken control of the Foot Clan.

“Cowabunga!” Mikey yelled, as the turtles rode one of Donnie’s new inventions, the Sewer Slider, down the subway tunnel. The guy that had run away from them screamed and sprinted off into the darkness.

“I think we gave that guy a heart attack or something,” Leo called out from Donnie’s left. Wind whistled past the purple-masked turtle’s tympanum, whipping the slider’s words away immediately.

“It’s his own fault for walking through the subway with the lights out,” Raph pointed out. “And he should h— MIKEY IS THIS REALLY THE BEST TIME FOR A SNACK?!”

“You know what the ancient proverb says about pizza on a bagel,” Donatello’s little brother replied, snacking on said pizza bagel and pulling farther ahead of Leo and Donnie. 

“That’s from a commercial,” the snapper growled, his forehead creasing. “Remember, no eating on missions. We need to stay alert and vigi—”

“No fair,” Leo whined, interrupting him and pulling up alongside Mikey. “I want some! You gotta share little brother or I’ll take Raph’s side in the argument…”

The sharp wind carried Mikey’s response away as Donnie rolled his eyes. “Sigh, guys remember what I said about focusing when riding highly dangerous experimental machinery at eighty miles per hour?”

Only after Raph echoed Donnie did they quiet down. Dumb-dumbs, Donnie mentally grumbled. Why do they only listen to Raph? They should at least listen to me regarding my tech, right? … Right?

Donnie’s self doubt pity party was interrupted by a familiar raspy voice. “We agreed to leave! Why does Draxum want us dead?!” The far away conversation echoed down the tunnels, allowing the Mad Dogs to eavesdrop.

“You and Brute are not fit to lead us, Lieutenant,” an unfamiliar person responded. “In fact, you don’t even deserve those titles anymore, Daryl and Wilbur.”

“Daryl and Wilbur,” Leo snickered. “I would keep Lieutenant and Brute. Oh man, I’m totally going to tease them after we save their butts.”

A roar of rage echoed down the tunnel. “I think that we should hurry,” Donnie snapped, before more petty squabbling could break out between his brothers. 

“Donnie’s right!” Raph shouted, his bright red ninpo lighting up the dark tunnel. “Mad Dogs, ahoy!”

“I thought we agreed to save that for ship-based adventures, pal,” Donnie reminded his older brother. “Please don’t make me say that again; the viewers don’t like repetition.” ——————————————————————They were going so fast that tears stung at Leo’s eyes. They sped down the tunnel just in time to see some bulked up foot soldiers kick Lutentiant out of the ragged subway car. “No!” Brute yelled, just missing his friend’s out-stretched hand.

“Leo!” Raph barked.

“Already on it,” the slider said with a wink, picking up speed and catching Lutentiant on his Sewer Slider. “Hey, Wilbur!” He crowed smugly. “Need a lift?”

“YOU!” Lutentaint screeched, struggling out of Leo’s grip. “I had him! I do not need the help of children!” The flames on his head blazed with anger. “Also, how dare you suggest that my name is Wilbur, it is Daryl.”

Leo laughed, a smirk on his face. “Whoa, harsh, I thought we were pals. Well, not pals, but I thought that we were done trying to kill each other with this Baron Draxum thing happening. At least for now. Enemy of my enemy and all that jazz!”

Lutentiant finally freed himself from the blue-masked turtle’s hands and straightened, brushing himself off before pointing an accusing finger at Leo. “You turtles started this mess! It’s your fault that Draxum got the armor piece at the Botanical Gardens instead of us. Not to mention the fact that he is obsessed with you.”

Leo just rolled his eyes and surfed towards the subway car. “Whatever dude,” he called over his shoulder. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go save your boyfriend.”

The wind drowned out the former Lutentaint’s hoarse protests as he raced after his brothers. 

Leo arrived just in time to watch the show. “Hey losers!” Mikey called, jumping into the car, surprising and wrapping up the soldiers, paper and real, with his kusari-fundo. 

“I think this is your stop,” Raph finished, tearing up the paper soldiers. In the snapper’s haste, a few real foot soldiers broke out of the chain and fell out of the subway car.

“Hey, Raphie?” Leo called, joining them and dodging a hit. “I think one of the dudes that fell out of the car was the leader, the one with the freaky mask. Didn’t we leave Donnie back there?” He opened a portal, causing the paper soldiers that one of the human ones made teleport somewhere else. “Do you think…”

“Don’t worry, Leo!” The red-masked turtle responded, smashing a soldier into one of the walls and knocking her unconscious. “Donnie’s smarter than the rest of us put together. I’m sure he’s got something up his sleeve…” ——————————————————————Donnie equipped his newest invention to the train tracks, thrill at getting to test it out sparking through him. His weapon charged up as his quarry stumbled down the tunnel. “Y’know you guys should watch where you step down here,” he mused, his new invention making a buzzing noise and warming up in his hands. “The third rail can be quite deadly.”

He pointed the purple painted gun at them, artwork courtesy of Mikey, with a smug smile on his face. “And I only need a fraction of its power to charge this taser rifle I designed last night.” The tunnel lit up with electric green light, a sign that it was powered up and ready. “One hit, and you’ll be out for hours. Who wants to go first?”

His confidence vanished immediately as the ninja in the lead gave him a look of contempt that Donnie could see even through his weird mask. “Foolish child,” he spat, picking up his weapon and moving faster than the softshell could blink.

Donnie fired the taser, but it was too late. “You face ninja,” the foot leader sneered, nimbly leaping out of the way with his companion. They threw a couple of shuriken, one piercing Donnie’s shoulder and the other cutting through his power supply.

“Oh that’s not good,” the softshell yelped, trying to salvage his invention. “I can fix this! I can fix this! I CAN TOTALLY FIX THIS—” Donnie’s rambling was cut off as he took a blow to his plastron, flinging him across the tracks. “You know it turns out I cannot fix this…,” he finished weakly.

“You are not true ninja.” Pain ripped through his jaw as Mask Guy bashed his foot into his face. “You mask your deficiencies with cheap tricks. That is the way of the weak. You cannot best true strength and skill!”

“Scoff! I’m just smart enough to use every tool at my disposal,” Donnie retorted, pulling out his tech-bo. “Now eat plasma!”

The purple-masked turtle expected to use his battle shell to fly up into the air and blast the foot soldiers with his tech-bo. However, to his dismay, his battle shell gave a rumble and then fell off, exposing his vulnerable shell. His tech-bo short circuited and fell apart in his hands. “NO!”

“We have tools of our own,” Mask Guy continued triumphantly. His partner threw two more shurikens at the softshell. Donnie hissed in pain as one embedded itself in the edge of his shell. “Tools that our forebearers have mastered over centuries. Elevating the skill of their use into an art form. I can’t imagine what the great Lou Jitsu must think of you.”

Mask Guy’s words cut into Donatello’s heart, opening old wounds and bringing back long buried insecurities. His words hurt so much that the softshell didn’t see the chain that swept his legs out from under him. He let out a cry of pain as his shell hit the hard ground, gravel digging into it. The rail probably interfered with my tech! Donnie realized as he feebly attempted to block more shurikens as they cut into his arm.

He tried to activate his panic button, but Mask Guy knocked it out of his weak grip. Blood flew from his mouth as he took another hit to the face. “Perhaps this is mercy,” Mask Guy said maliciously, pointing his spear at Donnie’s throat. Panic clouded his senses as he stared at the sharp point as it lunged downwards…

His twin’s voice cut through his stupor. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!” Leo put Mask Guy in a headlock, his eyes narrowed with fury. 

Mask Guy grabbed the slider and threw him, smashing him into the opposite wall. “Don’t you see, boy? I am freeing you!” Fear sent Donnie’s heart racing as he turned back to him, his spear ready to strike again. “Imagine how strong you would be if you never had to protect the runt of your litter.”

Raph appeared out of the darkness, his face twisted with anger and fear. He punched Mask Guy in the face, so hard that he was sent flying farther down the dimly lit tunnel. “I’m plenty strong enough already,” he snarled, baring his teeth.

Leo helped Donnie up as Mikey turned towards the unconscious ninja, pure rage flashing across his face. “Just because Donnie’s as good a fighter as the rest of us, doesn’t mean that he’s not a million times better than bad guys like you!”

He then turned back to Donnie, his eyes wide with concern. “D, are you okay?! We totally thought you were a goner for a second there. Thank pizza supreme in the sky that we got down here in time!”

“Y-yeah,” Donnie stammered, shock still slowing his thoughts. “Thank pizza supreme in the sky…” ——————————————————————When they got back to the lair, Leo patched up his wounds as he and April chewed him out. “You’re lucky we got there,” Leo growled, not looking up from his wrapping. “You could have died, Donnie.”

“Ooooo I wish I was there,” April ranted. “I would have taught those jerks a lesson they would never forget! But seriously, D, you need to be more careful.”

“I know,” Donnie mumbled again, unable to meet his sister’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Her face softened. “We’re just worried about you, Donnie.”

“I know,” the softshell repeated, shifting around so his twin could treat his shell.

As April fell silent, the only noises for a few minutes were Raph and Mikey stuffing their faces with pizza. “Don’t listen to what that guy said,” Leo advised, putting the rest of the bandages away. “You don’t slow us down, Donnie. You’re all set, just no training for you for the next few days.”

As his twin and April retreated for pizza, Donnie was left alone with his thoughts. Leo might not believe it, he thought, shame burning a hole in his heart. But I do slow us down. He just doesn’t want to admit it. Dad probably is embarrassed by me, I bet all he said at that Demolition Derby was just another thing to get me to let him control the tank. Don’t worry, he comforted himself. That's all going to change soon, because I have a plan…

I thought about making this into a whole fic but I don’t want to. I feel like Donnie would try to become stronger by building a giant robot to help him fight. But the robot becomes sentient and almost destroys New York. Donnie would use more robot parts to try and stop the giant robot but the AI almost takes over his brain, forcing Donnie to believe in himself to break the control. He would also need the help of his brothers and FINALLY get even more approval from Splinter. Anyways, thanks for reading :)

#Rottmnt #Batman/TMNT 2 (Comics) #Rottmnt donnie #rottmnt Mikey #rottmnt Raph #rottmnt leo #April O’Neil Rottmnt #Foot brute #foot lieutenant #Foot soldiers #One shot #Self doubt #I’m sorry if your name is Daryl or Wilbur

[doyouknowthemossinman]

i have completely normal feelings about this tiny man

#ngl goose had it right with “i want to marry him and then immediately divorce him to gain partial custody of hero” #why is he so legs #to me he's like if wilbur soot was an entire foot shorter and only slightly less nerdy about geography #it's the entertainer front hiding a very damaged person for me #although the retro color strip on the suit is doing some heavy lifting in that comparison #considering the only piece of merch i was able to get pre-lovejoy was the retro blue crewneck #side side note because that was a side note: #I'M SO UPSET I DIDN'T GET ANY ORCA MERCH #i think the website is still up but who knows if it would even ship lmao #i've hijacked my own tags with talk about wilbur wtf #i'm so sorry if this shows up in the wrong tag. how can i possibly repent #treewords

[yesican-stop]

Draw me like one of your white boys q <3 -from your beloved ❤💓💋❤💘💓💙🤎💚💕💛🖤💟💗❣💋💔🦶

IN THE COLD DESERT EVENING

[id in alt]

#wilbur soot #dream smp #c!wilbur #dream smp fanart #blood #mcyt #dsmp #wilbur soot fanart #ART.QUACK #i love u but ur srsly deranged #whats the foot emoji for??? #cigarette

[enneamage]

As a 4w3 I would love a breakdown on quackity and his relationship with Wilbur, I do think it’s interesting as a 3w4 and a 4w3 they are really similar in a lot of ways

Quackity is a Four with a heavy Three wing, and Wilbur is a Three with a heavy Four wing. They share a lot of common ground on paper, but they’ve clearly turned out very different.

They’re both big individualist artists who crave distinction and success. As touched on a bit previously, Quackity has more consistent contact with his emotions than Wilbur, although they’re both influenced by them quite heavily. They both have a drive for recognition and a hope to connect with people through their work. There’s even some overlap in wanting to prove something to themselves with their own success, wanting to feel like they can make an impact on the world with their efforts.

These two don’t seem to be outstandingly close friendship-wise but they’re good collaborators who have a lot of respect for each others work. Wilbur has talent scout instincts, and it doesn’t take much to see how much raw creativity and talent that Quackity brings to the table. Quackity sees the vision and the drive in Wilbur, respecting his skills as a writer and ideas-man.

They have a somewhat different approach when it comes to people. Quackity has different modes but he definitely wants to be authentically seen, while Wilbur is a bit more of a chameleon and can show people what he thinks best suits the situation. Wilbur isn’t always in impression-management headspace though, and will often have moments of impulsive self-disclosure, so it evens out.

Despite core Three-ness, Wilbur is still an individual who is subject to his individual ‘quirks’, like the abrasive sense of humor that he tries to pass off as just being English. I feel the need to call this trait out in particular because it is both an example and an exception to his concern with being charming—he’s compelled to make jokes but he fails to notice when he’s just offloading angst onto somebody else until after. Quackity is emotionally aware and transparent enough to have been like “fuckin cut it out” to some of Wilbur’s more abrasive social ticks (negging his stream, ect.) when he tried them with Quackity. Frankly Wilbur is thankful to be given the chance to clean up his impressions with the people he’s trying to win over, so this was positive for him.

Quackity is fluent in vibe, that is his true first language. Quackity will notice when Wilbur's actions don’t match his feelings or his words. How he chooses to handle this information is up to him, since he does tend to be forgiving and optimistic about Wilbur, but there are a lot of little tricks Wilbur uses that won’t work as well as he might hope with Quackity. Quackity wants to be on good terms with him so it’s not like Wilbur is holding on for dear life to someone who is retreating, but it does put Wilbur in a bit of a balancing act with his nature, trying to repress The Bad Ticks while remaining authentic.

Both of them seem to want to be closer or at least have a curiosity about eachother, but time will tell if they follow through on that impulse.

#qkty 4w3 #wlbr 3w4 #Q is sensitive /pos and recoils when something ain't right #there's no grudge wil just needs to not put his foot in his mouth because q picks it up faster #and this might be a barrier #but sometimes wilbur can be really smooth so it's a cointoss

[yeastinfectionvale]

Just remembered that one boris johnson x jeremy corbyn smut fic wilbur soot commissioned on fiver

#WORDS I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD WRITE TOGETHER #wilbur soot #winmler wilbur soot my scrunkle diddlye you are a baby boy. (you are either. exactly like wimbur foot or you aare just a silly little skrun

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

I have a Plethora of strange little photos saved in my iPhone and I may just post them.

#I don’t mean in my camera roll (though I do have strange little photos in my camera roll) #(like that foot-long hot dog I found abandoned on a sidewalk in the city at night) #(things like that) #I mean photos from the Vast Expanse known as the Internet #I do not know what the strange little pictures mean #but they confuse me and I come back to them time and time again #maybe they’re just not meant for human minds to comprehend #is this about Wilbur Soot NO SHUT UP #this is about Wilbur Soot AND Ranboo #mind you #my post #anyway

[sanderchu]

Okay so I've already requested alit but the best idea just popped into my mind!!

So, reader works at a little coffee shop that wilbur decides to visit one day. He over hears lovejoy playing over the speakers and sees reader humming along to the tune of the song. He goes up to the counter and like plays it cool like "you like the song?" And reader is totally oblivious and doesn't know Hes the lead singer and is all like "yeah their my favorite band!" And it's just a whole thing!

-🕸

Oblivious

Note: bro this is so good and mwah-

Song I used: it’s all futile, it’s all pointless

Reader: Gn!reader

F/l/s= favorite Lovejoy song

Little y/n description 🤭:

You’ve been working at this cafe for a long time. Slowly but surely you’ve been getting promoted making you soon have enough ability to make the cafe playlist. Of course you added some songs that would be good for customers but also put in some of your personal favorites. Mainly, Lovejoy. You loved the band and couldn’t get enough of it so a few songs wouldn’t hurt. It definitely didn’t after this experience.

You were working your normal shift with your now close co workers. You controlled the front as everyone controlled the back. You decided to put your playlist since it was slow and because you made the playlist for the cafe so why not. During that a man walked in as you were putting on your playlist so a co worker took his order for you.

Your playlist began to play on the speakers as you walked back to the front seeing the guy now sit down as your friend walked to the back to tell everyone his order. “Can you sweep?” A worker asked, “sure!” You went in the back to grab the broom. Soon enough the first song stopped and started playing your favorite, ‘it’s all futile, it’s all pointless’ by Lovejoy. Yo began to quietly mumble and sing along trying not to disturb the little customers in the cafe.

The guy looked up without you noticing and watched you sweep humming the song as you finally finished and put the broom back in the back. He smiled as he watched you come back and still humming. You grabbed a wipe and began to wipe the counters as you waited for the next customer. The man got up and came up to you and looked at you, “you like this song?”

He sounded cheeky but you responded, “yeah it’s from my favorite band, I couldn’t go to there concert sadly but at least I can still listen to there music” he nodded at you as you threw away the wipe and finally looked up at him. “Is this your favorite song?” He asked making you think, “not really, I really enjoy f/l/s but this is still in the top ten for sure for me” he smiled and nodded once again, “how would you feel if you met the real lead singer?”, “oh I would freak out he makes such amazing songs and has such an amazing voice”, “interesting”

Then he handed you a tip only for you along with a paper, “keep it all” he smiled as he walked out. You opened the paper first as you placed the money to the side and read the note:

‘Happy you met me now? Maybe I’ll come back if you remember me and we can get a picture king’

You felt confused for a second but then everything clicked. ‘I MET WILBUR SOOT’ your mind was screaming at you that you couldn’t even get a picture but happy the note said he might come back. You smiled as you put the note in your pocket. All day nothing could ruin that smile you had on your face and no one dared to ruin it either.

#dsmp imagine #dsmp x reader #dsmp #dsmp scenario #mcyt imagine #mcyt #mcyt x reader #scenario #wilbur x y/n #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #Wilbur #wilbur foot

[dr3amofagame]

my hot take is that c!quackity was never a real threat except for the prison lore and the execution. And both ended with him losing a life by being killed pretty easily. And i love that for him, he's trying too hard to be intimidating but it just makes him look silly

Respectfully anon this is what I meant about the hot takes stuff 😭 like this is the central point of his character … his inability to make a solid impact and lack of being perceived as a threat or someone worth respecting at every level is LITERALLY what drives c!q’s whole arc . Like ur right he’s not much of a threat at all and failchamps at being intimidating consistently this is also like the whole point …?

#honestly I’ve tried several times to try and make him intimidating #bc there’s a lot there? he can get Wilbur on the back foot? he tortured people? #he’s quite adept at getting people to listen to him and is generally charming and funny #even tho his manipulation can be heavy handed and. sloppy. at times #like he’s not. a character without potential to be pretty damn intimidating . he’s also so fucking failchamp #anyway there’s a bit of nuance to the c!q intimidation narrative but failing at it over and over Is like #the point of this guy and his power issues and insecurity #my asks !! #dsmp hot takes

[zooone]

wait for reference how tall r u

a good 5'6 :')

#a whole foot shorter than wilbur yesyes #asks

[copepods]

theyare just hanging out!!

[id: a drawing of c!wilbur and c!tommy over a muted yellow background. wilbur is splayed over a light blue armchair, playing the guitar. tommy is sitting on the floor leaning against the chair, knitting a yellow piece of fabric. wilbur is shoving one foot into tommy’s head, and tommy is grinning up at him. end id]

#mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #crimeboys #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #art #fish makes art

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

anyway normalize having violent revenge fantasies abt ur abusers

#i feel vindicated this is everything to me #you are scum you are scum beneath my foot i will do this for the rest of your sentence you will never see the end of this you bastard #anyway i think wilbur should scream like that more #anyway i am going to listen to marrionettes by famous last words for the next 3 hours

[haunted-headset]

🤍 Did You Just Flinch? 🤍

Summary: You flinched when he yelled at you.

word count: 761

tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @ace-call-me-what-youd-like @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

cw: cursing, arguing, use of Y/N, you/yours pronouns used, reader flinches, hurt/comfort, Wilbur being kind of a dickhead, mentions of past abuse, use of a pet name at the end

a/n: hey guys! Quick little story: I watched a video that was basically Wilbur getting mad for like 3 or so minutes, & the first clip was Wilbur pretending to be angry at someone who was interviewing him, & Wilbur yells very loudly & I flinched & I thought "that's a banger idea for a fic, good job, me!" so yeah!! :) here's the video if you wanna see

You & Wilbur both had terrible days. You didn't get a wink of sleep because of work & stress, & the entire week, you two were snippy with each other. You didn't blame him for any of it; he was stressed, & he was tired. Today, however, you were a little angry with him for it. You two had been extra snippy last night & had an argument, & that led to Wilbur choosing to sleep on the couch, & he didn't give you your good morning kisses & hugs when he left for the studio. He just said muttering a goodbye. Not once, in all of the years of dating you, did he ever not kiss you before he left. Even if you were screaming at him the night before or you were both pissed off at each other, he'd still do it.

When you finally got home from work, you found Wilbur sitting at his desk in the office, a mug of coffee next to his laptop. He was tapping his foot repetitively & he looked tired. His hair was tousled & his eyelids were drooping. You walked over to grab the coffee mug & he grabbed your wrist, not hard enough to hurt you.

"I'm still drinking that," he sighed.

"Hello to you too," you replied. He sighed again. "I'm just refilling your coffee for you."

"I didn't ask you to do that," he snapped. "I can do it myself."

"What is your issue today?" you said, somewhat annoyed.

"What's my issue?!" he said, raising his voice slightly. "What's your issue?! You've been such an ass to me this week! You're not making the stress any fuckin' easier!"

"Neither are you!" you said, your voice also raising. "You're being an ass, too! A massive one!"

"Oh, j--FUCK OFF!" he said, now yelling. "Fuck off! You think--you just sat there thinkin' you're tough shit, didn't you, fuckin' wanker?"

You froze. He's never yelled at you like that before.

"I-I can leave & let you be if you want--" you started in a small voice.

"Oh, so you're just fuckin' dumping me now?!" he shouted. "Is that what you're doing?! You're trying to break up with me?! What a fuckin' load of bollocks!"

"No no no no!" you said, still using that soft voice. "I-I was just going into another--"

"What, are you gonna try & cheat on me?!" he yelled, somehow getting louder. "Is that what this is, you fuckin' wanker?"

"Not at all!" you said quietly. "Not at all! I wouldn't dream of--"

"SPEAK UP!" he nearly shrieked as he raised his hand. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

You flinched & covered your head as you shook & were on the verge of tears. He was most likely going to hit you. That's what the last few did.

Wilbur froze. He lowered his hand & looked at you with shock. Tears began to fill his eyes.

"Did you just flinch?" he said, almost a whisper. "Love, I--I wasn't going to hurt you. I would never."

You didn't say anything. You just sobbed.

"Oh my God, darling," he whispered, his voice cracking. He moved your hands away from your face & wrapped his arms around your waist as he took in the sight of your trembling lips & tearful eyes.

"I'm not like him, love," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I would never even dream of hurting you, okay? I'm so sorry I scared you. I shouldn't have yelled."

& you broke down in his arms as he buried your head in his chest & let out a few small cries of his own. You both mumbled apologies to each other constantly as you hugged each other like your lives depended on it. Suddenly, he picked you up bridal style & placed you on the bed.

"Wait right here, okay?" he said, brushing the hair away from your face. "I'm going to run the store."

He came back a few moments later with a full grocery bag. When you opened the bag, you saw your favorite snacks, drinks, candy, a plushie, & a pair of slippers.

"Wil, this is too much--" you started. He cut you off with a gentle kiss.

"Nothing is too much for my sunflower," he smiled. "Now, what movie do you want to watch?"

For the rest of the night, you two watched your favorite movies & TV shows, & when it was time to go to bed, you two cuddled & talked & giggled with each other until you fell asleep in his arms.

#wilbur soot #wilbursoot #wilbur #wilbur soot imagine #fanfic #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #creative writing #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #angst with a happy ending #angst #hurt/comfort with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #sad fanfiction #happy ending

[wilbursprincess]

Arranged Marriage With Princebur

Princebur x Reader

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D

Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.

Fic below cut!

When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.

The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?

“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”

My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”

“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”

Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.

“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”

~

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”

Lovely?

The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.

The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”

I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.

I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?

“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”

I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.

Maybe this won’t be too bad.

“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.

Nevermind.

“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.

The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”

~

I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.

‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’

‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’

‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’

I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.

My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.

“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”

“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”

In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.

My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.

“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”

My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.

“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”

“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’

Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.

~

“You may now kiss the bride!”

I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.

Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.

He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.

“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.

I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”

“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”

He’s sorry?

“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.

Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”

The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.

“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.

Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.

“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.

Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.

~

“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”

I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.

Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.

The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.

“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”

Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.

“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”

I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”

He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”

“Baby shoes and socks.”

“An evening gown.”

“A baby blanket.”

“Some cufflinks.”

“Baby clothes.”

Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”

“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”

His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”

“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”

Another awkward silence.

“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”

Something to d- oh. That.

I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.

~

The nightgown is certainly… something.

It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.

The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.

Now I see what she meant.

There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”

“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”

A solid 5 seconds of silence.

“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”

When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”

My face burns. “It is.”

“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.

The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.

I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”

~

Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.

I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.

Oh God, was I wrong.

There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.

I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.

The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.

I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.

“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”

~

I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.

“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”

The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”

Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.

He’s on my side.

“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.

The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”

“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”

She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”

The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”

I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”

Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”

Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”

I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.

“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”

He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”

Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”

“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”

Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”

~

“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”

He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”

“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.

“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”

I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”

Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”

“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”

He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”

Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”

“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”

We’re both silent for a few moments.

“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”

I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.

His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.

“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.

“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“

Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.

When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.

“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.

“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.

My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…

…And it snaps.

I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.

“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”

While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.

“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.

“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.

Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.

“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”

I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.

The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.

“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”

“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.

Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.

“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.

He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.

~

Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.

One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.

“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”

I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.

“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”

While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”

He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”

I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”

I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.

There’s no going back now.

~

We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.

His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”

All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.

The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.

Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.

I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”

“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”

He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.

The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.

My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.

~

“Wait!”

I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.

“Please, wait!”

It was Wilbur’s voice.

Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.

“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”

The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.

~

Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.

Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.

I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.

“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”

The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.

I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…

…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.

“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”

Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.

“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

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