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#Wilbur soot angst
jesuscgrist · 5 months
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“The thing that I built this nation for doesn’t exist anymore. It’s over.”
Happy belated November 16th to my favorite little meow meow!!
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shubblelive · 7 months
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— NOT MUCH LONGER
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summary : wilbur has always been dedicated to his viewers, sometimes too much. his fans are aware of this, you are aware of this, and he is aware of this. so when you go multiple days without seeing your boyfriend because of how hard he's working you take matters into your own hands, not realising that thousands of people are there watching you do it.
genre : fluff
warnings : mentions of eating/food, a few swearwords, wilbur not taking care of himself, very small panicky moment
pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader
pronouns : she/her, reader is called wilbur's girlfriend/wife
featuring : cc!wilbur soot
requested : Could you do a fic where the reader isn’t a very public person (in regards to the internet) and one day, wilbur’s streaming and she goes in and brings him some food and kisses him, not knowing he was live, and when she notices, she just gets all red and embarrassed and wilbur goes out of frame with her and its just all fluffy, and the chat goes craaazy
word count : 1.3K
note : hi lmao. i know, i know it's been nearly 2 months since i 've posted anything. school really caught p to me, i was so stressed out i was crying like multiple times a day for a few weeks. i wanna thank you guys for your patience, i have one more week of classes before spring break and then exams are right after that so i am really unsure of how much free time i'm gonna have until like mid-november.
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There was a lot of things that you loved about Wilbur. Of course there was, the two of you had been together since university, nearing on 5 years. Knowing for someone that long, though, and there were obviously aspects of your boyfriend that you were less than fond of. There weren’t a lot, but the main one was the fact that he was a major workaholic. 
You were completely understanding of how important his job was to him. He had been doing it longer than you’d even known each other and you’d never want to do anything to make it seem like you were anything less than supportive. 
But the last couple of weeks had been driving you crazy. 
He’d be out all day filming for twenty different videos or in the studio - that was fine, you had your own work and hobbies to keep you occupied. But then he’d get home and it was straight to editing, or writing, or meetings for merch, album art, new videos. It had gotten to the point where you hadn’t even seen him in two days. You knew he’d been home, you vaguely heard the shower running while you were asleep, so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head. Clothes had been added to the laundry hamper, and water glasses had been added to the sink. He’d messaged you, of course. You were high on his list of priorities, it being a no-brainer that whenever he got a free minute he was texting you to let you know where he was going, promising that he’d be home soon.
When you got home from work, you were pleasantly surprised to find his docs at the front door, neatly kicked to the side so they were out of the way along with the rest of your collective pile. You put your stuff down and practically floated around the house, searching for your boyfriend. Not in the kitchen, though the dishes had been done for you, left to dry. Not in the living room, though there was a coat draped over the back of the couch that you picked up and deposited in the bedroom (also empty, but his side of the bed was rumpled like he’d fallen straight on top of the blankets). 
You were walking down the hallway when you finally heard him. He was talking softly, not outside of the norm for him. His office wasn’t soundproof, and you often heard him through the walls as you went about your day, whether that was laughing loudly as he streamed, or the muffled sound of him strumming his guitar, trying to write a new song. He was being quiet, probably editing a video. You knew he had his own room in the group office, just for him to edit, but he liked to bring them home sometimes. 
You went back into the kitchen to dry the dishes for Wilbur and you noted that there weren’t any new plates added to the pile. You knew that Wilbur had eaten while he was gone, he’d texted you every time they ordered food, but you also knew that it had been a couple of days since his last home cooked meal. You, admittedly didn’t have much in the pantry, but it was made with love, which was the thought that counts. 
That was the thought on the tip of your tongue as you knocked gently on the door, a plate of mac and cheese and a glass of water in hand, smile breaking out at the sight of your boyfriend at his desk. 
Wilbur’s viewers had always been aware that he had a girlfriend. He mentioned you for the first time after you guys had been together for a year, and since then you were a sporadic presence in his online life, maybe a mention every couple of weeks or months. They didn’t know anything else though, not even your name. His viewers, over the past couple of years had developed their own nicknames for you. It started from one of the first streams you were mentioned in, someone in chat asked if you were Wilbur’s wife. He’d laughed, said no, and then tried to say you were not his wife, and instead pronounced it “wiff.” It got slightly out of hand over the years, with most people lovingly referring to you online as wiffleball. Wilbur had apologised profusely for the slip up, but you found it too funny to actually care. It was definitely weird for you to see, though, the phrase ‘Wiffleball’ randomly trending every couple of months. 
So, they didn’t know your name, and they definitely didn’t know your face. Wilbur was usually on high alert for even your footsteps outside the door, let alone you wanting to come inside. He’d yell that he was live, and you’d wait dutifully at the door for him to come outside. It was more for your sake than his, but he cared just as much about your right to privacy as you did. But today, he was so preoccupied with the fact that he hadn’t seen you in nearly three days that he completely forgot to. 
The monitor with his own face in it was tilted away from the door, and you were so entranced by the smile on his face that you didn’t notice until it was too late. He was standing to meet you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hi, lovely, I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too, Wil,” Your hands were on his arms the second you placed the food down, and you were right about to kiss him properly when you saw a fast movement out the corner of your eye. His chat was whizzing by so fast that you almost couldn’t read it. You backed out of frame immediately, almost out of instinct, wide eyes meeting Wilbur’s. “You’re streaming?”
“Fuck,” Wilbur made sure that you were definitely out of the frame before putting his stream back on the loading screen and going back to check on you.
Your breathing was much faster than usual and he could all but see your heart jumping out of your chest. “I am so sorry, darling, I was too busy being happy to see you that I completely forgot that I was even streaming. Are you okay?”
Your hands found Wilbur’s shirt, clenching it between your fists and burying your face in the fabric across his chest. His hands were securely on your back as he held you while you calmed your breathing. You weren’t crying no, he could tell you just needed to slow your breaths down and you’d be alright. He was whispering reassurances in your ear and within a few minutes your heart had calmed down. “I’m alright.”
“I’m so sorry,” Wilbur launched immediately into apologies again but your vice grip on his shirt stopped him.
“I’m alright, Wilbur.” You strangely were alright. What you could see on the chat were all nice things, they were all so excited to see you. “Never want to go back on your stream again, but I’m okay with them seeing me.”
“You don’t have to be okay, love, if you’re not. I’ll get the VOD taken down when I’m done and edit you out and say something about not circulating the video, I am so sorry-”
“I’m fine, Wilbur.” You pulled the fabric closer to your chest, the movement effectively silencing him. “Like I said. I am still good not showing up on your streams and stuff, but you can leave the video up. I’m alright with it, I promise.”
He softened at your determined face. “I love you,” he said in place of another apology. “I love you, and I am still sorry that I forgot to tell you. No more until you say so, I promise.”
“Thank you,” you said earnestly, loosening your grip on his shirt. “I’ll let you finish up now, do you think you’ll be a while?”
Wilbur kissed you softly before sitting back in his chair and looking up at you full of love. “Trust me, I definitely won’t be much longer.”
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cattoonxd · 2 years
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how tf do i use tumblr help
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cathers-world · 7 months
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Wilbur NSFW alphabet
Warnings:NSFW (duh)
Afab
Not proof read!
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+
A: After care
So sweet will cuddle you give you kisses gets water makes sure you use the bathroom<3
B: Belt
I SAID IT ONCE ILL SAY IT AGAIN (and maybe write a one shot about it) he will spank you with his belt and if your bad spank you on your clit
C: Cum
loves loves LOVES cumming in you likes watching his cum drip out your pussy AND WHEN YOU SWALLOW IT UGH
D: degration
Will call you his pretty little slut, whore, doll, and cum slut, things like that
E: expedition
Will take you anywhere but would rather your house/apartment
F: Face fucking
100% will make you faint by shoving his dick down your throw for too long, also because he has his weird taste thing if your self conscious about like “tasting bad” he would feel bad that you felt that and he wouldn’t really care about what you tasted like he just wants to eat AHHAAHHA
G: glutton
HEHEHEH like the other he would go DOWN just eat you up like a little cupcake
H: Hair
This is a silly one but I’ve also said this but pushing his hair out of the way as he’s rearranging your guts and just seeing his big ass four head-
I: intimacy
I feel like he would wanna go out for a little bit till you guys fuck
J: jiggle
HE WOULD LOVE CHUBBY GIRLS (I’m DEFINITELY not chubby and biased) but like seeing you cubby bouncing just AHHH
K: Kitten
This is a me directed thing, if you couldn’t tell by my user name my full names Catherine and so I sometimes go by Cat and just like him calling me kitty/kitten<<<<333
L: Length
He’s long have you seen the Tom Simon’s total wipeout vlog LIKE OMG FUCK ME TILL I CANT BREATHE
M: Minutes
I feel like the longest would be 1 hour because he doesn’t wanna hurt you
N: Neck
NECK KISSES!!!
O: Outside
Like I said he likes the privacy of your own home, but like if you had a garden-
P: Punishment
Like I said belt, but this is a little dark but like waterboarding- idk just him filling up the sink pushing your head down in the water and fucking you
Q: bitch tf starts with Q
R: Ruin
Would have a Ruin kink I don’t remember what it’s called but you know what I mean
S: Spit
On your body in your mouth on your pus-
T: Teeth
Will bite your neck and maybe clit
U: Uncut
… yeah
V: Vagina
He loves yours<3
W: Whimpering
HIM WHIMPERING
I don’t know what to do the the last three (sorry)
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Hope you liked it
Feel free to send in requests!!!
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gizmo-writes · 8 months
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Going to a haunted house with Wilbur
- You're definitely going first. He has his hands on your shoulders but he's definitely making you go first.
- He screams for sure, he does not like scary stuff, especially when they jump out at him.
- He'll grab your hips out of fear and pull you back into him. It's his way of protecting you.
- He talks. A lot. It's his way of getting through it. Talking and making jokes to hopefully get you to laugh or talk to him.
- If he could, he'd pick you up and throw you over his shoulder and run out of there but he can't since you're in front and you wanted to come so badly
- This is also your idea, he would never have this idea on his own. He hates haunted houses but you looked so excited so he was happy to go... until he got there.
- he may have a panic attack.. but not one so severe he breaks down, just one that makes him short of breath. You're able to calm him down pretty quickly though
- he definitely demands tons of kisses and cuddles afterwards.
- he may have nightmares though.
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lcvejoy · 10 months
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speak now
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wilbur soot x gn!reader
tw!: alcohol, throwing up, angst? hurt/comfort. kinda makes no sense; not proofread.
word count: 1,336
a/n: i hate this but i rlly just wanted to post bc i miss it. more stuff coming! this is just to get me back into the groove of writing and sharing lol. clearlyyyy i write too much angst im sorry i just thrive in it. ill write more fluff! expect more!
wilbur is lying on the vinyl kitchen flooring when he calls.
he’s wine drunk and crying like an overtired toddler. wails of grief and laboured breaths, clutching his phone with one hand and gripping his hair with the other. the cold surface of the floor giving him some relief for his overheated body.
“hey, you’ve reached y/n! i must be super busy, but leave a message and i’ll get back to you when i can!” he’s heard that voicemail hundreds of times this week. he loves hearing your voice, even if only through a phone speaker.
“baby?” he sniffles, wiping his snot on his sleeve, “hey darling, hey y/n.”
a shaky breath, “listen i-“ he looks at at the ceiling, silently cursing himself, “i need you to tell me where you are, okay?” he catches a sob before it escapes, trying to display strength. “we’re all so worried about you. i-i’m so worried about you.” he’s dizzy, the room is spinning now. he reaches his hand out to lay flat against the floor in an attempt to steady himself.
“just call me. or text one of us. anyone. w-we just want to know you’re okay.” wilbur can no longer hide his misery. his voice is wobbly and it cracks at the beginning of each sentence.
“i love you, y/n. i-i love you so much it hurts.” he begins to feel the bile rise in his throat, “come home, okay?” he hangs up. he gets up from the floor on shaky legs, stumbling his way to the bathroom, and lets out of the contents of his stomach. he’s coughing and spitting, hugging the toilet and resting his head on the side of the seat.
he flushes the toilet and scoots back to lay his back against the opposite wall. he leans his head back, closing his eyes, before crumbling again. loud sobs, fat tears, hiccups and laboured breaths. the pain and grief hits him like a train.
there was an argument between you two the night you left. he hasn’t seen you since, and nobody has heard from you. your phone, however, has remained on - proven by the fact that wilbur has been able to leave you voicemails and each of his texts deliver. both, however, go unanswered and unread.
he is riddled with guilt - his brain playing every possible scenario. hurt, kidnapped, murdered, lost, alone. although, his hopeful side prays you’re at your parents house and you just don’t want to talk to anyone.
he picks up his phone and calls again. he leaves more voicemails. he does this for hours until he’s sober with a pounding headache and a broken heart.
until, finally, “wilbur, please stop calling.”
you answer. he’s frozen, sitting up from his leant over position quickly.
“y/n?” he’s convinced he’s hallucinating, that this isn’t real, that you didn’t actually pick up your phone.
“i’m fine, wil. i’m safe. please stop calling and go to sleep.” you seem annoyed, your voice is heavy with exhaustion; like he’s woken you up multiple times with his constant calls.
“w-where are you?” he’s frantic.
“i’m safe.” you respond, sternly.
“stop calling, wil.” it comes out like a warning.
“are you going to come back?” he asks, the emotions bubbling in his gut, “please, y/n. please come home.”
he hears you sigh. he holds his breath as he waits for your answer.
“i’m sorry i worried you” you began, “i just needed some space. i’m coming home in a couple days.”
wilbur falls apart with relief. he cries without the pain and grief present.
“we will talk more about it when i come back. just-“ you pause.
“just give me some space, okay? get some sleep.” you speak gently.
he nods, wiping the tears spilling down his cheeks.
“i love you” he sobs.
“i love you, too” you whisper. you hang up, and wilbur cries more.
two days later, wilbur hears keys jingling at his front door as he sits on the couch. he rises to his feet so quickly that he stumbles slightly, nearly tripping. he watches the lock switch, the door handle twist, and the door begin to slowly swing open. he’s frozen as he watches, wide-eyed.
you walk in, a small bag in hand. you haven’t yet noticed wilbur’s presence as you lock the door and remove your shoes, setting your bag down on the floor next to you.
finally, you look up. you freeze upon meeting wil’s eyes. you both stand there - staring in each others eyes, mouth slightly agape, feet planted in place.
wilbur’s mouth opens as if he’s going to say something, but the words get caught in his throat. he gulps, feeling the emotions rise to his eyes.
“hi wil” you break the silence with a small whisper.
his lip quivers, a tear falls down his cheek.
“hi” his voice cracks as he whispers back.
there’s a beat of silence as you both remain solid in your places. wilbur is silently crying, staring at you. you can feel your eyes welling with tears as you speak again; “i’m sorry i left” you begin, “i just needed some space. i should’ve told you where i was going. that was incredibly selfish of me.” you look down, your fingers anxiously playing with the hem of your shirt. you swallow before beginning again, “it killed me to not talk to you, but we both needed time apart.” you look up to meet wilbur’s eyes again. he has tears steadily streaming down his cheeks, his mouth is slightly open. you are finally taking in just how broken he looks; his hair is a mess, he has dark eye bags as if he hasn’t slept since the night you left, his skin is pale and dry. you feel like the shittiest human being on earth for having caused him this pain. you quickly wipe the tear that falls from your eye.
wilbur gulps again before speaking in a hushed voice and broken tone; “i never want to go that long wondering if you’re okay again. w-wondering if i’ll ever see you again. i-“ a choked sob leaves his lips. he breathes deeply before continuing, “i was s-so scared that the only time i would ever hear your voice again was through your voicemail message.”
you can’t stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks as he speaks. you nod as you look down.
“i’m so sorry” you crumble, both of you letting out soft sobs and hitches of sharp breaths.
“let me hold you” wilbur speaks up, “please, l-let me hold you.”
all you can do is nod. the words won’t form. so you do; you nod as he quickly steps forward.
and as he reaches you, he pulls you into him. his hands wrap themselves around your middle as his head buries into your neck. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull your face into his chest, breathing him in. you can feel his hot tears on your skin and his body jump as he lets out quiet sobs.
you stand there, in the living room of your shared apartment, holding each other and crying together for an unmeasurable amount of time. until eventually, the sobbing subsides and all that is heard is sniffles.
wilbur pulls away from the hug and instead, brings his hands to your face and rests his forehead against yours. you hold his forearms and close your eyes. you missed this - you missed being close to him, feeling him, smelling him. you missed him.
he missed you equally as much.
“never again” he whispers, as his thumbs begin moving against your cheeks.
“never again” you repeat in an equally quiet voice.
you both smile slightly. wilbur moves his head up to leave a long, lingering kiss on your forehead before returning his forehead to yours.
a silent vow of forgiveness, a silent vow of “i’m sorry.”
and yet, there is a quiet but heard vow of a promise to never let this happen again.
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ax-y10 · 3 months
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promise
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in which; wilbur comes home late and exhausted and brushes past his daughter
about; dad!bur au, so many different perspectives, angst to fluff, i wrote this in two hours very late at night so it's not the best, kisses, fighting, crying, wilbur being bad bad, wilbur ignoring your daughter, swearing, happy ending yayay, gender neutral, i think y/n is used once, anything along these lines
word count; 1.7k
taglist; @phxntomsdusk, @pheliiaa (ask to be added)
you heard the front door creak open, and you sent your daughter down to greet him. you stayed in her room, however, overthinking.
he was home late again from the studio, writing and figuring out songs for the new album. he was working hard, but was starting to forget about who lay at home, waiting for him.
you and your daughter made good use of time during the day when he wasn’t there. making little animals out of playdoh, making dinner for wilbur when he got home, or making silly stories with each other. however, it didn’t feel right.
it didn’t feel like when wilbur had promised to spend every waking moment with you and your daughter. he had promised that if it came to it, he would give up lovejoy, give up streaming, give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you both. but now, he wasn’t keeping the promise fulfilled.
you were cut off by the urgent footsteps of your daughter, and a very teary-eyed girl standing in the doorway. scooping her up, you cradle her against your chest and swing her back and forth, trying to cheer her up.
eventually, you had to break her walls and ask what was wrong.
“what happened? why’re you upset?”
“daddy…”
she was cut off by a loud sob erupting from her throat. she was just so heartbroken
“what did daddy do, sweetheart? do i need to go talk to him?”
it was a great effort trying to get a reason out in between her sobs and shaky breaths, but eventually, she got something out.
“daddy- he- he walked past me. i said hello and tried to hug him, but- but he- he didn’t say hello back. i offered the cupcakes and his- his dinner to him, but he just walked into his room. he just ‘hmphed’ and… ignored me.”
you were heartbroken by this point. he had left his daughter in tears, and his lover heartbroken, but you couldn’t keep sulking with your daughter.
cut to now. you were standing in your shared room with wilbur, arguing back and forth. stupid arguments spewed from his mouth, and sounds of disbelief spewed from yours. you were frustrated from his pure ignorance and bullshit excuses.
“i’m tired! do you not see that! you have to realise i don’t have all the time in the world to be with the people i love most! for fucks sake, you give no one a break, do you!”
each word spilled from his mouth shattered your heart. he didn’t understand.
“all you are worried about is me! all you are worried about is our daughter! all you are worried about is the little stupid things that do not need to have your mind occupied!”
he shouted more and more silly things, clearly not realising what he was saying.
“but that’s what we’re meant to be worried abou-“
“i don’t care! you need to stop! you need to calm the fuck down, sit the fuck down, and stop worrying. i get it, our daughter is very much upset, but im here, and im tired!”
why was he worried about himself?
“you quite simply ignored our daughter as soon as you opened that door! she offered everything her little mind could think of! the cupcakes we made today, the dinner we made for you, she said hello and tried to hug you and you walked past her, groaned, and ignored her! you’ve left her in tears in her bedroom, absolutely heartbroken, because of you! are you fucking brain dead, wilbur!”
he wasn’t going to deny that your words hurt him more than his hurt you. he was only just realising how much he was away from you and his daughter. how much time was spent without the smiling faces of the little love bugs that he leaves at home each day. he didn’t know what had gotten into hi-
“what happened to ‘i’ll give up everything. i’ll give up lovejoy, streaming, ill give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you’! you aren’t here anymore! you’re either not at home or you’re off with the fairies! what happened to us! are we not important! what happened to your family, wilbur! you must be fucking stupid, you bastard!”
that was the last thing he needed before he fell onto the bed and let the floodgates open. he hadn’t realised how much time he had spent away from you both. he was always worried about the release date of the next ep, or always occupied by something else. it must have been months since he truly recognised the warm smile of his daughter or the honey-sweet laugh of you. he didn’t realise that he was slipping down the same rabbit hole every one he knew was falling down. he needed to be present.
you were both fuming. you were pissed and he was frustrated.
it took him a good five minutes to register that you were gone. that you hadn’t offered him a hug, or a kiss, or even something as simple as a head rub. you had just walked off…
he immediately stood up and almost ran to his daughters room. he looked everywhere. you weren’t in there. you weren’t in the guest room, or the lounge room, or the bathroom, or even the kitchen. you were literally gone.
he was about to break down again, lose himself to panic, until the soft, wet laughs from his daughter reached his ears.
he found you both outside, your daughter laying in the grass, you tickling her. she had dried tear tracks on her face and red puffy eyes, you with the same. god she looked like you-
until the day he dies, he will never believe that your daughter looks like him. she has your hair, your eyes, your nose, your mouth. she has your beauty.
he sat down next to you after your daughter saw him and her smile dropped. he’d done so wrong-
“can i apologi-“
“wilbur go inside.”
“darling, plea-“
“wilbur.”
he stood once again and stepped inside. he grabbed his dinner and sat at the kitchen island. he let his eyes roam over every photo of you, of your daughter, of you and your daughter, of him and your daughter, of all of you-
he ate his dinner before it went cold, the small bowl of mac n’ cheese and mashed potato swallowed down before he trudged back to your shared room. he laid down and fell asleep almost instantly. he didn’t want the guilt to set in and ruin anything else.
meanwhile, you and your daughter were still laughing and rolling around in the grass. just before wilbur came out wanting to apologise, you had just calmed her down from her sobs and cries. she had voiced so many small sentences that were so incomprehensible, the sentence that you did catch was so heart-wrenching, you started crying again.
“do you and daddy still love me?”
you sobbed and endured shaky breaths but you got through it just for her.
“yes, of course, pumpkin. please don’t ever think we don’t love you.”
a shower and fresh set of pyjamas later, your daughter was asleep in her room, and you were pacing the lounge room, figuring out what to do.
do you sleep on the couch? do you sleep with wilbur? do you sleep in your daughters room? you simply didn’t know.
settling for your shared bedroom, you make your way to where wilbur was fast asleep, small breaths moving the curls on his head and the slight twitch in his arm from where you were absent.
you crawl under the sheets behind him, ignoring the slight hiccup in his sleep, and falling asleep with your head buried in his sleep shirt. the faint scent of cologne and rain luring you into sleep.
you woke to wilbur’s calloused fingers running across your face and through your hair, and finding rest on your shoulders. his slight bed head and tired face making him even prettier than usual. he’ll always dent that he looks pretty in the mornings, claiming that he looks weird with his messy hair or that his breath stinks, but everything is always brushed off with a wide smile from you and a kiss placed under his eye.
but as soon as the warm feeling came, it was pulled away as soon as he realised you had woken up. he thought that you were still angry at him, that you would get angry at him for being so close to you after last night. but he was surprised when he felt you move and pull his hand back to you face.
he continued his small gestures across your face, staring at your sleepy face maybe just a little longer than he should be, considering how horrible of a person he was last night. how absolutely self-centred he was, how he ignored your daughte-
“stop worrying, wil. i’m not angry.”
“i’m so sorry, for last nigh-”
“sweet, don’t apologise right now.”
“just let me, please?”
when he was met with a small nod, he continued.
“i’m so so so sorry about last night. i don’t know what had gotten in to me that made me ignore the two most beautiful things i call mine, but i feel absolutely horrible. i should not have said anything that i said. i shouldn’t have been so self-centred, i shouldn’t have ignored our daughter, i shouldn’t have argued with you. i’m sorry. i really am. and im sorry for not sticking by that promise. i promise that you and our daughter are going to be my number one priority from here on out. i love you.”
he finished his apology with a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, and finally to your lips. he threaded his hands back into your hair, and pulled off his shirt and gave it to you to keep you warm.
soon, your little ball of happiness walked into the room, laughing at the sight of you in wilbur’s shirt and him tickling you. you all calmed down eventually, and let your daughter climb into bed with both of you.
wilbur immediately smothered her in tight hugs and ticklish kisses pressed against her face. he apologised to her for ignoring her and made sure that she believed him before he dropped the subject.
you all spent the entire day doing things together. making playdoh animals, with wilbur. making dinner, with wilbur. making up silly stories, with wilbur. he was included in everything you did.
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mystic-writings · 4 months
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tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot
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PAIRING – wilbur soot x fem!streamer!reader, implied wilbur x shubble
REQUEST – anon - Hi! ok so, i had a very angsty idea. basically, we all know how wilbur had a crush on shubble? basically, my idea is that wilbur and streamer!reader have been dating for a while and the internet loves them (as they should) and reader and shubble are good friends like reader, shubble and niki are all like an iconic trio, but then wilbur starts to distance from reader and spend more time with shubble and you know who catches on first? james. and then jack figures it out, and tommy and niki and the band all have it figured out and niki (i love niki more than life itself) tells reader and the readers like “fuck you, it’s me or her william.” with prompt 9 from “angst prompt 2”?? i feel like that would be really really cool and your angst is absolutely *chefs kiss* :) if you don’t wanna do it that’s fine! just a thought, have a lovely day!!
PROMPT – 9. “don’t make me choose.”
SUMMARY –  you finally find out why your relationship with wilbur is falling apart, even if you didn’t see the signs. 
WARNINGS – angst, hurt/no comfort, tw cheating mentions
WORD COUNT – 2,720
NOTES – i listened to haunted by tswift the entire time i wrote this bc it matches so well tbh | first fic of 2024 & no surprise, it’s ANGST !!
masterlist | taglist form
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How have you been so blissfully ignorant all this time?
These past few years of your life, the ones you once looked back upon as the best of your life thus far, were tainted with a dark stain. 
You don’t know how you missed it. All the signs were there, but maybe you were just too happy to believe that something could’ve been wrong in the first place. 
Being a streamer, and a successful one at that, was a blessing you never thought you’d have. It led you to all of your best friends, and to your boyfriend of nearly three years. Wilbur Soot, more commonly known now as Will Gold, who you met through your friends Niki and Shelby. It felt like it was fate, meeting him. You were at a point in life where things just felt sour all the time, and you barely had the energy to create content at the time. Then, around the beginning of January 2020, Niki asked if you wanted to make a video with her, Philza, and Wilbur, and from there things were history. 
After starting dating over the internet for a while, and with the lockdowns coming and going frequently, you and Wilbur met for the first time in his tiny flat in London. It was amazing, spending that time together, just the two of you. Deciding to make things public and when was a tough decision, but you thought it would be safer to do so after you took the jump and moved to England. You’d never forget that conversation, sitting on your kitchen counter at 4am.
“And you’re sure you want to do that?” Wilbur asked. “I mean, moving here, moving across the country just so we can be together it’s- it’s-” 
“A big step, Will. I know. But it’s been almost a year, you know. Restrictions are lifting soon. And I want to be with you. I want to be able to see Tommy and Phil and Niki and Jack easier. I want to be happy.” You told him. “I know I have Shelby here, and I love her with everything I have, but she’s the only thing here and it’s just not enough anymore. I need you.” 
After a long, anxiety-inducing silence, Wilbur sighed. “I know. I need you too. I just want to make sure you’re making the right decision here, you know? I don’t want you to have gone through all that trouble just to get here and find you don’t like it, or something happens and you have to go back, anyway.”
You shook your head, even though your boyfriend couldn’t see you. “Nothing’s going to go wrong, Wilbur. I know what I want. And besides, there’s no place on Earth I wouldn’t live if it meant I could live with you.” 
“I love you.” 
“I love you, too.” 
“You should go to sleep. It’s almost 5 in the morning. You need rest.” Wilbur told you, and you couldn’t help but smile. 
“I know, I know. I’ll talk to you later, though. I promise.” 
“Alright, darling. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Will.”
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And it was after a long, unnecessarily stressful process with customs and gathering the right papers, that you finally moved in with Wilbur, who began renting an apartment in Brighton not long after the process began. 
Over a several-week-long process, you met all of your best friends in person for the first time, and it was the best few weeks of your life. Niki especially was excited to meet you, and she was one of the first to do so. 
Life for the next year or so was amazing to say the least. Yours and Wilbur’s respective careers were taking off, his in music and yours in streaming and on YouTube. Everything was coming out on top for the both of you, and for all of your friends. 
Until now, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 
You and Wilbur had been travelling for his tour for a while now, both of you putting off streaming to travel with the rest of Lovejoy for their very first American tour. Christmas was closing in, and you were in California, visiting Shelby, Quackity, and a ton of other friends that you hadn’t seen in a long time. 
Wilbur’s show was amazing, as per usual, and you and Shelby spent the whole night glued to one another. Will, like he normally did during the performances when you were in the crowd, kept tossing loving glances your way for most of the set. He even dragged Quackity on stage to cover a song with him. It was truly amazing. 
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The trip to see your friends, and the rest of the tour overall, was amazing. After it ended and you all went back to England, you noticed a shift in Wilbur’s behaviour. At first you assumed it was just work stress and post-tour burnout of sorts, but soon it became very apparent that it wasn’t directed at anyone but you. 
You spent a lot of time around Wilbur and your friends, as group hangouts became very common since you were both gone for so long. They were normally hosted at Tommy’s flat or James’, sometimes Jack’s house or round yours. It was always fun, though, and that’s what mattered.
Streams became frequent again, both solo and with whoever was available at the time, planned or not. You even did a subathon for your birthday that lasted a week and a half. You invited everyone in the area to come over for cake, called those who were too far away and everything; it truly was a wonderful birthday. 
Content creation was always unpredictable, and everyone’s lives were hectic, so you weren’t too surprised when Shelby stopped communicating with you as frequently over the next few months. The summer of 2023 seemed to be busy for everyone, including yourself. 
You were helping Tommy with his tours and upcoming plans, and your own plans for the future had you being pulled every which way. Wilbur even bought a house for the two of you, despite the rift that was still forming between the two of you. He spent most nights in his office, playing video games or working on music. 
Still, even with the distance between you, you never would’ve guessed that the others could see it, too. 
It started with James giving you odd looks whenever you’d excuse Wilbur’s lack of presence at hangouts, even when they were at your house. Then Niki, who asked if you were okay on more than one occasion. Then Jack, who came to you about an editing problem and brought up how you hadn’t mentioned Wilbur in a little while, and whose mood seemed to sully when you shrugged and told him it was because he was very busy right now. Then one by one, it seemed everyone was catching onto it, and you nearly shouted at them to leave you alone, because it was your relationship and you didn’t see any problems.
Even if Wilbur barely slept in the same bed as you anymore. Even if he rarely ever touched or kissed you anymore.
Niki. Poor, unfortunate Niki, was the first to find out why. She never told you how, or who told her, but she was the only one who knew. She came to you with it on a beautiful Friday afternoon, a day where you both decided to not stream in favour of a nice, relaxing afternoon in your backyard, drinking coffee at a little table in your garden, full of flowers and flourishing at your hand and hard work. 
She’d seemed off to you the entire time she was there, quietly sipping on her second cup of coffee and admiring the flowers. 
“Are you okay, Niki?” You’d asked, eyeing her with concern. 
Her eyes snapped to yours from the peonies beside her. “What? I’m fine, Y/n, don’t worry.” 
“You sure?” You asked. “You seem… off. Like something’s bothering you. If you want to talk, we can, I mean, we’ve been friends for long enough that you can tell me anything you want. You know that, right?”
“Of course, I’m not an idiot.” She stated, fiddling with her fingers. Her stature was small, eyes attempting to steer clear of your gaze and finding solace in her mug. “I just- I don’t know if you’ll like what I have to say, and I don’t want to hurt you. You’re my best friend.” 
You smiled gently at the girl. “Don’t worry, Niki. If there’s something you need to tell me, I’m sure I can handle it. You can’t hurt me that badly.” 
Your smile faltered when Niki’s weary eyes met yours. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I only found out last night, and I hate to be the one to tell you, especially because it’s not any of my business, I just felt that you needed to know, I-”
“Niki, calm down,” you reached out to place your hand atop hers, and she turned it over to grip it in return. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Wilbur.” She sighed, and your heart rate skyrocketed. “I know why he’s not acting himself around you.” 
“Is he okay? I mean, he’s healthy right?” You asked. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?”
“Because he didn’t want you to know.” She said, tears forming in her eyes. “He’s not sick or anything, Y/n. He’s… he’s in love with someone else.” 
The world around you could’ve set fire and you wouldn’t have known. Niki’s words rang in your ears, and your heart plummeted from the place in your chest, as if Wilbur himself had dropped it from the safe place you put it; right into his hands. 
“With who? Do I know her?”
Niki only nodded, sniffling and blinking away her tears while yours threatened to fall. After a long silence and a heavy sigh, she squeezed your hand again and opened her mouth, her next words coming out shakily. “It’s… Y/n, it’s Shelby.”
You pulled your hand from hers. “What?”
“They’ve been talking for months now. She told me last night and I haven’t spoken to her since then,” Niki swore. “She said she feels bad for doing this to you, especially because she rejected Wilbur for a long time and you’re best friends. I guess she couldn’t stop herself after a while. I don’t know. All she said was that Wilbur initiated it.” 
“She still participated.” You said, words lined with tears. “Do you know how long he’s been… been pursuing her?”  You nearly gagged on the words. 
Niki nodded. “Since the LA performance in December.” 
Somehow, your heart fell further than it did before. 
Finding out was a blessing and a curse, really. Everything started to make sense once you truly thought it over. All those nights holed up in his office lately, the distance that formed after the tour ended. Those loving glances during the LA show. Somehow, you could tell now that they weren’t for you. 
After you talked and cried more about it with Niki, she left to go tend to her cats in her apartment, and offered a place to stay if you needed it. 
You spent hours on the couch, anxiously awaiting Wilbur’s return from the studio. Your stomach turned with the thought that he could be on the phone with Shelby right now, chatting and making her laugh and telling her how much he felt for her. You almost broke when you wondered if he’d ever told her he loved her. 
Finally, well after sundown, the door creaked open and shut. In walked Wilbur, guitar case gripped in one hand, shoulders sagging from the weight of the day. 
“Hello, love.” You said, barely looking at him, words cold as ice.
He tossed a quick glance at you. “Hi, darling. How was your day?”
“Good.” You said, watching him lean the guitar against the arm of the couch, lazily kissing your head as he did. 
Somehow, after all these months of being emotionally distant, Wilbur could tell something was wrong. “You okay?” He asked as he headed to the kitchen on the opposite side of the house. 
With a sigh, you stood up and clenched your fists. Might as well get it over with. “What’s going on with you lately, Will?”
His brows furrowed as he stopped in the doorway, turning to face you. “What d’you mean? I’m fine, darling.” 
“No you’re not.” You said. “You’ve been distant, and for a while now. You’ve been borderline avoiding me. It’s like you’re not even in a relationship with me! Like you don’t want to be in a relationship with me anymore! Did you know our friends have noticed? Every time I show up to a gathering without you they ask what’s wrong. Where you are. And I have nothing to say because I didn’t think anything was wrong.”
Wilbur sighed, face scrunched with indignation. “That’s because nothing’s wrong. I’m just busy.”
“Really? What, busy talking to Shelby?”
Wilbur’s face fell, the colour going with it. 
“Yeah, don’t act surprised, Will. I know.” You said, the emotion finally flowing back to you. “I know you’ve been seeing my best friend behind my back. I know you’ve been pursuing her for a year. Niki told me. She said you’ve been after Shelby, wearing her down, trying to get her to go behind everyone’s back. After all this time, after everything we’ve been through, and you cheat on me with her of all people? My best friend. The woman who helped introduce us and you didn’t think I’d find out at some point?” 
“Look, it’s not what you think, I just-” 
“Just what, Wilbur?” You asked, biting back a sob. “Just wanted to use me to get to her? I don’t even know why you asked me out in the first place. I knew you had a crush on her before we started dating.” You breathed a shaky sigh, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I guess I was just naive enough to think you’d gotten over it. Maybe you did, for a little while.”
“I swear, it’s nothing like that, Y/n. I love you, I do.” He pleaded. “Just let me explain everything, please.” 
“I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you, Wilbur. You bought a house for us! I moved here for you! We were building a life together! And you tore it all down for her!” You screamed. The neighbours could probably hear you by now, but you didn’t care. You needed to let everything out. “I left my family behind, my life behind for you. That’s how much I love you. I guess you just don’t love me enough to do the same.” 
“Y/n, don’t- I love you, too. We can fix this, I swear. I promise.” 
“Fuck you.” You spat, catching Wilbur off guard. “You don’t love me. Not enough to cheat on me with one of my best friends. So fuck you, William. It’s me or her. You don’t get to have us both. I won’t put myself through that.”
Wilbur’s eyes filled with emotion, with indecision. “Don’t. Please, Y/n, don’t make me choose.”
You stepped closer to him, fury burning through you. “Fine, then I will. I don’t know what the hell you thought you could do when you got yourself into this, but you’re sure as hell not gonna keep dating me.”
Before Wilbur could speak, you were marching upstairs to your bedroom – the room you spent more time in than Wilbur did – texting Niki on your way to pack a bag. Your heart was crumbling to dust in your chest, and the emotion was finally replacing whatever temporary anger you felt, crashing through you like waves, putting out the fire within you. 
Wilbur begged and pleaded as you packed your bag, but you didn’t listen. You just packed whatever was necessary, whatever you could think to bring for the night. You’d come back for the rest later. 
15 minutes later, after a quiet Uber ride, you were sitting in Niki’s living room, crying and wondering what you were going to do next. Because you changed your life for Wilbur, and it was his reckless betrayal that tore it all down around you. 
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forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads
wilbur soot taglist: open!
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average-vibe · 4 months
Text
•Fame Hurts 2•
Pairing: Wilbur Soot x Streamer!Fem!reader
Summary: your presence on social media fades, and your ex notices.
Genre: Angst, Fluff at the end
TW: cursing, arguing
AN: HOLY SHIT YALL LOVED THE FIRST ONE???? SLAY??? AGAIN TY TO @modelbus for inspo!
TAGS (sorry if you didn’t want it!): @queenofdisaster-6 @lemonboys-stuff @cathers-world
part 1 is here
masterlist
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Wilbur had broke up with you over 2 weeks ago, and you hadn’t streamed, posted, or made any presence on social media since then. You didn’t see any point in trying to redeeming yourself, as people would still say the same shit anyway. About how you were using him, how you didn’t deserve your fame, and how you needed to humble yourself.
quite honestly, you hated yourself for not seeing the signs sooner. How Wilbur wanted to ‘Talk’ that one day, or how he became distant for a little bit after you had collaborated on a stream, or when your stream views started to decline. It was so fucking obvious, but you were too caught up in your own emotions to notice.
You hadn’t checked your phone since then either. It had been on ‘Do Not Disturb’ since you went to an old friend, Carissa’s, apartment to stay. The only person who knew you were alive was Carissa, and she was the only one who saw you. As far as everyone else knew, you had disappeared out of nowhere.
But today, for some odd reason, you had the urge to turn your phone off of ‘Do Not Disturb’ and check your notifications.
There were about 2000.
Texts, comments, DMs, and tags had taken over your notifications, mostly people just wondering where you went.
@bae: where did @yn.loves.you and @WilburSoot go??? did they die? where did they go??? —>@gaywaffle: i’ve been wondering this forever! like did smth happen???
you didn’t know Wilbur stopped posting too. but sure enough, his last tweet was about 3 weeks ago. And his last stream was 15 days ago. He hadn’t been position either, and it was a mystery to you why.
Next, the texts. Oh, the texts.
Tommy: YN wtf where are you????
BooRan: YN, please answer
Wilbur (blocked): 75 messages
You knew it wasn’t gonna end well, and that it was a bad idea, but you clicked on Wilbur’s profile.
Wilbur (blocked)
I’m sorry
please yn
respond please
it was shitty
i’m sorry yn
i love you so much
please..
Your vision turned red. after all the shit he said about you, after all the hurtful things he did, after fucking dumping you because of people on twitter, he was begging you to come back. you got up and stomped to your car. Your plan? to go to wilbur’s house and yell at him until you couldn’t yell. or until you passed out.
You pulled into wilbur’s driveway, with nothing but your phone and a lot of angry thoughts. you opened his unlocked door, and found him sleeping on the couch. You got some water from the fridge, brought it over to him, and poured it in his face.
he woke up with a jolt, sputtering and thrashing around like an idiot. he looked at his attacker, who was you, and his eyes lit up.
“YN!” he said, a smile gracing his lips.
“YOU BITCH!” you screamed, wiping the kind look away from his face. "Fucking dump me on the side of the road, then try to get back with me?? cause you realized that your too fucking sad without a girlfriend to stare at? I’m so sorry that YOU brought this upon yourself!” you continued, voice faltering in tears. you didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t help it. the fact that every single word was true, and not one misunderstood word, made it hurt so much more.
“YN, can i explain?” he asked, eyes looking more sad than anything.
“Explain what? how you-“
you were cut off by a kiss. A gentle, sweet, loving kiss. if you weren’t so mad, you would even admit you liked it. and you couldn’t deny the fact you leaned into it.
He let go, looking at your eyes. “I’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that. I just hate to see you so mad- and at me, i just didn’t know what to do. can i please explain?”
you let out a loud sigh. “alright, go ahead.”
“Tommy told me that you loved me more than anything in the world, and so did Ran, and Phil too. everyone was saying how much they loved you.. except for the people who didn’t know you. I realized that the only reason people were saying that shit was because they didn’t know you. And if they did, they would never say that about you. Your sweet, smart, funny, beautiful, kind, and an incredible person. and i cannot believe i ever broke up with you. i’m so sorry.” he said everything in a fast paced manner, looking at the floor for the entire time.
your anger melted away. The way he said everything, you knew it was coming right from his heart. he glanced at you for but a second, and you decided to fuck it. you grabbed his face and kissed him, again. this time, it was happy. full of love, and pure joy.
you let go, and gave him a hug, at this point, you were both crying.
“YN, do you forgive me?” he asked, voice cracking.
“Yes, Wil. i forgive you.”
what can i say i like ending on words
ANYWAY
i wrote this is 1 sitting so uh
yeah
there MIGHT be a part 3 😏
only if you ask nicely 🙄
OKAY ILYSM BYEEEE
-vibe
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willsdreamgirl · 5 months
Text
amazon standing lamp ⋆。˚ — wilbur soot x reader
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wilbur soot x fem!reader
will has everything he could ever want, then why does he still feel so empty?
18+ | minors please dni! angst and smut
cw: mentions of sex, different sex positions, descriptions of sex, angst, mentions of anxiety, wilbur is NOT okay and neither is the author
word count: 600+
a/n: finally had the motivation to write after a HOT MINUTE. was inspired by wilbur’s new album, mammalian sighing reflex. angst, just BIG ANGST.
“midday missionary, midnight loathing, midnight cowgirl, morning smoking”
your fingers clutch the cream coloured sheets under you, and you spread your legs wide, as wilbur thrusts into you. the sound of skin slapping fills your shared bedroom, your moans fill his ears. “mm, will, just like that…” you look up at him, and he looks at you like he sees right through you. you search his face, his brows furrowing in deep thought rather than pleasure. you manage to string together a sentence between his methodical, almost calculated movements. “hey will… you okay?” he snaps back to reality, looks down at your body and up at you, with a small smile on his face. yet, his eyes look like bottomless voids. you don’t say anything, and neither does he. he keeps going until you orgasm, and pulls out. you sit up, not caring about the post-sex exhaustion starting to set in your bones. “will… you didn’t finish? you okay?” he looks down at the floor. in that moment, he looks so damn vulnerable, so small, all bare. he sighs and looks at you from across the from as he’s putting his boxers back on. “yeah, yeah. i’m good. just not feeling it right now…” something just wasn’t right. you bit your lip, and smiled shyly, walking across the room. you knelt down in front of him, hands running across the waistband of his boxers. “i can help with that…” he looks and you with tired eyes and pushes your hand away gently. “look y/n, not right now, okay?” he walks away, leaving you on the floor, slight carpet burn making the skin on your knees sting.
you decide to leave him alone for a while, watching his disappear behind the door of his home office. you only see him around 9:00 pm, when he comes out to grab a plate of dinner you’d called him to eat an hour ago. you get up from your chair at the table. “i can warm that up for you, love!” you offer. he looks down at his plate, before sighing. “it’s fine.” you watch him walk away from you, yet again.
you go out for a walk to clear your head. he doesn’t ask where you’re going. you return at midnight, the apartment so quiet as if it were devoid of all life. you make your way to your bedroom. wilbur’s sitting on the bed, legs crossed, fiddling with a half burnt joint between his fingers. he sighs as he senses your presence. he puts out the joint on the wood of the nightstand, and motions for you to sit on his lap. you straddle his lap, your cold thighs resting against his warm ones. he pulls you in by your jaw, and kisses you like a man starved, teeth before tongue. he tastes like weed, and if you didn’t love the idea of it, you’d almost be disgusted.
time passes and somehow, you two end up tangled in each other’s arms. you smile into his neck. he looks at you blankly, before turning his head to the side, looking at the amazon standing lamp sitting on the nightstand, as you ride him. you moan wantonly, throwing your head back, elated at finally having gotten your boy back. meanwhile, a tear falls out of the corner of wilbur’s eye. but he plays along, he could never hurt the best thing to ever happen to him. he’s memorized every detail on the amazon standing lamp, the only constant in his life.
he has everything he could ever ask for, then why does he feel so empty?
398 notes · View notes
ghostiexe · 4 months
Note
Hello! Could you write some angst about missing Wilbur cause of his touring, but then he comes back and you get to finally see him again and its all fluffy?
Ty<3
yeah of course :D wordcount: 825
You haven’t seen your boyfriend, Wilbur, in months. 
Okay, scratch that, you have seen him. On FaceTime, on Instagram, little clips of him singing on Twitter. Old VODs you’ve been listening to so you can fall asleep.
You’ve seen him, but it’s not enough. You want to hold him, to be held. You want to fall asleep with him on the couch watching movies, and listen to him sing. Not to the crowds, not with his band. The kind of half singing, half humming he does whenever you’re having a hard time falling asleep, or when you’re having a bad day.
You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tears dripping onto your hand, and you look down at them blankly, sucking in a deep breath when you realize you’d been holding your breath. 
You glance to the other side of your bed, frown deepening when the sight just reminds you that Wilbur isn’t there. You sniffle and climb out of bed, glancing at the clock and groaning. It’s only like 11:00AM, and Wilbur isn’t meant to be back until 2:00PM tomorrow. You’ve been counting the days since the moment he boarded the plane two months ago, which… probably hadn’t helped you feel less lonely, but at least he would be back soon. 
You sigh and walk to the closet, rummaging through it until you find one of his jumpers, slipping it off the hook and burying your face into the soft material. 
The jumper is probably years old, honestly, and you’ve only seen Wilbur wear it a couple times. It’s thin, with loose threads and what seems to be cat hair stuck to it. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight, then walk back to the bed and sit at the edge of it, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it inside the jumper. You should probably be up and ready for the day at this time, but you don’t really care. It’s not like you have anything you need to do. 
You figure that it’s fine to wallow in your loneliness for a couple more hours.
You flop back onto the bed and roll onto your side, curling yourself around the pillow and burying your face into it, shutting your eyes and squeezing it in your arms. After a minute, you lift your head slightly and grab your phone from where it’s resting near your hand, connecting your Bluetooth to the small speaker on Wilbur’s nightstand, pulling up one of his random podcast episodes and pushing play.
You fall asleep eventually, listening to Wilbur ramble about bugs and little ecosystems. 
You wake up a couple hours later to the feeling of the bed dipping, and you mumble incoherently to yourself, rubbing your eyes and starting to sit up. You feel a hand slip into your hair and a hand press against you, gently pressing you back down onto the bed. “Hello there, sleepyhead.” You hear a voice coo softly. You’re immediately wide awake, sitting up quickly and staring at Wilbur, who’s hovering above you with his fingers gently running through your hair. Your jaw drops and you stare at him for a moment before shoving away the pillow and wrapping your arms around him. “Wh-what? When did you get home?” You ask, eyes wide. You turn your head and grab your phone to check the date, leaving you even more confused. He giggles a little bit hysterically. 
“Surprise!” He says, tackling you and forcing you back onto the bed. He starts to kiss you all over your face, and you weakly attempt to push him off of you. “Gah, Wil!” You complain lightly, wrapping your arms tighter around him as he presses a quick kiss to your neck. 
“I know I told you I’d be back tomorrow, I just wanted to surprise you.” He explains, putting his hands on either side of your face and smiling down at you. You match his expression. 
“I wish you’d told me you’d be back today so I can clean up a bit, at least.” You say, lifting a hand to cup his cheek and lean in to kiss him once. He chuckles into it. 
“Well, at least I’m here, yeah?” He asks, dropping one hand away from your face and reaching for your hand, lacing your fingers with his and gently squeezing it. You squeeze him back. “Looks like I was right on time, too.” He notes, dipping his head to kiss your forehead. “You were practically strangling that pillow.” Your face flushes and you smile shyly at him. “Just missed you.” You mumble, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He sighs softly and lays down, pressing you against his chest and curling around you. “I missed you too, my love.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline. You smile gently and let your eyes fall shut. 
You can’t wait to make up for the lost time with him.
139 notes · View notes
shubblelive · 9 months
Text
— INVITATION
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summary : after a long day of work, wilbur is desperate to curl up and spend time with his favourite girl. only problem is you’re not speaking to him.
genre : angst -> fluff, happy ending
warnings : light swearing, mentions of food/eating, wilbur being mean
pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader
pronouns : she/her, reader is called a girl
featuring : cc!wilbur soot
requested : Could you do a wilbur fic where the reader is an overall bubbly, energetic person and wilbur just suddenly lashes out at her one day, and she apologizes and goes home, and wilbur tries to call her and apologize and everything in the end it’s just fluff and apologies<33 tyy
word count : 2.1k
note : hi anon!! i hope you enjoy this fic, it’s a bit longer than i expected but i’m very very happy with it <3 also you referred to reader using she/her so i used those pronouns in the fic i hope that’s alright <333
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you were wearing his favourite jumper. it was yours - he’d swear on it - but you were adamant that it belonged to him. it had, originally, as most of your jumpers were, been his. but he’d given it to you months ago, and you were still promising that you were going to return it one day. he hoped you didn’t.
you’d been stealing his clothes for as long as you two had been together, for the last four years he had bought every single shirt, jumper, jacket, with the knowledge that you would steal it. it made sense, in your earliest days, when the two of you were long distance. you’d arrive at his flat for a week with a half-packed suitcase, and you’d leave with nearly a drawer full of his sweaters. but even now that you lived ten minutes away, you still had a habit of nabbing his sweaters. he didn’t mind in the slightest, and most of the time he would offer up suggestions for articles of clothing you could take. you guys had been together for nearly five years, it felt weird for him to be territorial on his clothes, especially because you’d return them whenever he asked, the scent of your perfume mingling on the fabric. he absolutely loved seeing you so happy, and if you stealing a shirt or two did that then he was more than willing to comply.
or at least, he was usually. now, he was running late for a stream and he couldn’t find his grey jumper. he’d been tearing his bedroom apart piece by piece in an attempt to find it so he didn’t have to walk through the rain in just a t-shirt. he sighed and sat down on his bed, remembering that he gave it to you when he went over to your apartment earlier in the week. it had been five days since he’d seen you in person, and it was driving him crazy. he had planned to spend the night at your place after his stream though, and that was pulling him through. it was fine, he took a few deep breaths and went to go and find a jacket to wear, already pulling up twitter to post the stream would be ten or so minutes late. he remembered to tweet out about his late stream, but he hadn’t remembered to text you to tell you that he would be late coming over. you’d organised for seven, which gave him nearly three hours of streaming time, and he assured you that he wouldn’t be going for that long. he ended up jumping on a call with some other people while he played, though, and that completely distracted him. leaving the office at eight, he had his phone on speaker as he tried to order an uber and call you at the same time. he was exhausted, and of course he wanted to see you and spend time with his favourite girl, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to reach your house without falling asleep, and being more social sounded like torture.
his jacket was rough against his arms, and he remembered suddenly about the jumper. your call timed out and he finished ordering the uber for his own flat, moving to text you and tell you he didn’t feel up to hanging out.
he opened your message history, and was hit with a message from you from half-past six, over an hour and a half ago. hi wil, you’d opened with, and he softened, knowing his annoyance didn’t really mean anything. my neighbours are being really loud, so do you mind if we meet at your place? can’t wait to see you. there was another two, each sent half an hour apart, a second one apologising for messaging while he was streaming, and a third saying, hi i let myself in i hope that’s okay. are you almost home? your most recent message was nearing forty-five minutes ago, and he cursed under his breath, cancelling the uber knowing it would be faster for him to walk than wait.
he reached his apartment out of breath and cold, and he couldn’t wait to collapse into bed. he still got to see you, and hopefully your smile would be enough to rid himself of any residual annoyance he held towards you.
he dropped his guitar case on the floor in the living room, calling out your name. “lovely? you still here?”
he heard a crash from the kitchen and took his coat off, slinging it over the arm of the couch. “hang on!”
he had a headache, and he massaged his temple as he made his way into the kitchen. you brightened the second he arrived, all but running into his arms. “hi, darling,” he needed alone time. he loved you, of course he loved. you were one of the most important people in his entire life, he absolutely adored you. but right now, he craved being by himself. you were here though, so he wasn’t going to make that your problem.
“hi, wil! sorry about the mess!” you smiled up at him. “i thought i’d make food? are you hungry?”
he shook his head. “no, you’re alright. want any help?” this time it was you who shook your head, and he kissed your temple before going to sit down on the couch, closing his eyes. you’d eat, and then you guys would be able to go to bed, and when he woke up in the morning you would be there, and he’d get to take you out for breakfast and spend the entire day with you. he just needed rest.
there was something you needed, and it was on the top shelf. you didn’t want to bother wilbur, he’d just got home, you could do it yourself. wilbur was much taller than you, so to get to his top shelf you would have to climb up on the counter. you’d be alright, you didn’t need to stand up or anything, just kneeling on the bench would be fine. you got up there with ease, but wilbur came through the doorway right as you started reaching. “what are you doing?” he’d been too loud, he knew that instantly, you jumped, and he had to rush forward and stop you from falling off the counter. “what on earth are you on the counter for?”
“i was trying to reach the bowl,” you said quietly. he stroked your cheek with his thumb.
“why didn’t you come get me?”
he helped you down. “i’m sorry, wil. didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted. he felt a flash of annoyance, and then kicked himself for it. you were never a bother, not even when he was exhausted.
“you should have asked for help.” he said simply. “do you need anything else?”
you smiled up at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to return it. “do you wanna watch a movie? i’ve been hearing good things about this one new one, here let me-”
“stop,” he breathed out. “i’m exhausted, and i just want to be alone, and you’re here, in my kitchen crashing around and almost hurting yourself! i can’t do this right now?”
your smile ebbed, and you took a step back. “why didn’t you say anything?”
“because i didn’t want to upset you,” he sighed out, running a hand through his hair. “i just can’t do this tonight,”
“you invited me-”
“you invited yourself!” he wasn’t yelling, no, he had enough patience to not be yelling at you, but his voice was raised. “i didn’t invite you over to my house into my kitchen, to wear my sweaters.”
you’d been together for half a decade. neither of you needed an invitation, you both knew that. wilbur had given you a key because he wanted you to let yourself in whenever you needed. he’d spent entire days in your flat without you there while you were away. this had never been an issue before, and he made sure you knew that.
you stood still for a moment before reaching down and pulling off the jumper of his he’d been looking for, leaving you in a black long sleeved shirt underneath. you tossed it to him. “because you never thought to call me and let me know you’d be late. by over an hour.” you were quiet, quieter than you usually were. your voice was loud, and bright and he revelled in it, soaking up every little comment you made, every “i love you,” every giggle, he adored it.
“because not everything i do has to do with you,” he was verging on cruel, and he knew it. “i had a long day at work, and i just want to be alone, but you’re here. so i have to cater to you.”
you didn’t reply, just brushing past him, with a soft “sorry” as your arm brushed his. you grabbed your stuff and left in silence, deciding on walking home.
he rested his forehead against the closest surface - the fridge - and swore under his breath. he was still holding your jumper, and he brought it up to his face, burying his nose in it. it smelled like lavender.
he fished his phone out to call you as he retook his place on the couch, cheek still pressing into the jumper. it was soft. he loved it. he loved you. he was such an asshole.
he called. you ignored him. he called again, three times. four times over the half an hour until he knew you were home and he knew you were ignoring him. his headache had increased, and all he wanted was for you to be resting in his lap, drinking you in while you watched your movie. he opened his phone again, not to call you this time, but instead to order an uber for your place. god, they were probably making so much money off him tonight but if he had to walk the entire way to your house, he’d collapse of exhaustion. he was there within fifteen minutes, thankfully this driver not getting him lost, and he payed with one hand as he bounded up the stairs with the other. he brought out his keys on autopilot and then remembered what he’d said, putting them down to knock on your door instead.
“darling!” this time he was yelling. he didn’t care though, he needed you to hear him. it took three more times knocking and five more yelled pet names before you opened the door. your eyes were red, and you had changed into softer clothes, these ones all belonging to you. “i’m so sorry,” the words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. “i’m sorry i got angry, i’ve been so tired recently and that’s not your fault nor your problem, but i took it out on you and you don’t deserve that, lovely.”
“i didn’t want to bother you,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper. he took a step closer to you hesitantly, and when you didn’t step back he wrapped his arms around you.
“you’re never a bother,” he said, voice pouring with affection to make up for his thoughts betraying him earlier. “i love you more than anything. i’m sorry i didn’t show you that tonight,”
“i’m sorry for going in without you telling me,” you said.
he shook his head vehemently. “i gave you a key, lovely. i gave you a key because any space with you is better than one without.” he took your face in his hands and made you look at him as he spoke, trying to get you to absorb every word he was saying. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you, and i can’t do that if you can’t get into my house.”
you looked like you were about to start crying again, and he kissed you gently. “i’m sorry,”
“don’t be sorry,” he assured you. “just let me in? i want to watch a movie with you.” your smile came back, if only slightly, and he knew he was making progress. you brightened up every room you were in, and even if you were a little loud, and too bubbly, and you stole his sweaters, he wouldn’t want you to be any different. he kissed you again, slowly and gently and when he pulled back your eyes were sparkling. “lovely?” you hummed to show you were listening. “when we get a place together, promise you won’t climb on the counters?”
“i don’t know if i can commit to that,” you said, laughing softly. “but i’ll see what i can do.”
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mysticalsoot · 6 months
Text
heaven is you (godbur au)
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first installment of my godbur au & gift to my sister &lt;3
➸ note; i wanted to finish this for @lillylvjy. lillys been a big play in why i still write and why i haven’t given up on shifting or given up on myself or this account. thanks to her i don’t impulsively delete things and i move forward. a few months ago i threw the idea of godbur at her and we talked about it and formed this character, she gives me the credit but she deserves just as much credit as i do. she’s my sister, regardless of biological attachment, she is my sister. i love her and i will protect her for as long as she’ll let me. she’s always there for me, holding me up and supporting me. if i’m upset or hurt, she’s there to listen and offer support. she also spends way more money on me than she should. and i love her, so a little note, don’t mess with her. thank you lills, i love you and enjoy this lil fic i somehow managed to finish in a day! also big thanks to @sleeby-anon for helping me pick out the photo and just helping me with this fic- tysm! you’re very cool and i love u (thank you for being a good friend to lilly :3 )
➸ pairing; godbur x gn!reader
➸ summary; after a few (actually, many) instances where you risked your life in order to reach your beloved wilbur’s world, you have a final disagreement that brings him to a few realizations and maybe some more effort to bring you want you want
➸ warning; kinda hurt but comfort at end, illusions to suicide but not flat out said, probably swearing, is there an unbalanced power dynamic? probably, uses of baby (i’m sorry i’m a sucker for it-), i think that’s it!
➸ age-rating; 15+
➸ wordcount; 2k
main masterlist
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"darling," the word rolled off wilbur's tongue with ease, like it had been spoken millions of times. perhaps it had been, but your mind was too foggy with fear and desperation to think clearly, "you can't keep doing this."
he pleads for you, hands on your shoulders and eyebrows pulling together as he looks down at you.
"what else am I supposed to do?" your voice cracks as the words flow out, and he frowns, shaking his head and looking to the side.
"live," he pauses, turning his head to face you. his grip on your shoulders tightens just a bit, "there's more to life than seeking refuge in my world. be alive, live in mortality."
he's begging you, pleading for you. he hates to see you hurt, and he hates the way his world's laws are. you can't be thrust into immortal responsibilities yet, and you can't stay long as a mortal with purpose. you have to go, but you would rather die a million more times before you accept that.
"can't you just let me stay? what's the problem in letting me be free where I want to be, with you," you're pleading with him now. on your hands and knees praying to the god before you to just let you stay. you're standing, knees going weak just a smidge. your eyes are burning from tears and your cheeks are wet with a desperation.
"I can't, I really can't," his frown deepens and he pulls you into his chest, face in his white ruffly shirt. he smells like home, but a home you can never truly have. he cups the back of your head with his hand, rubbing at your scalp with his fingertips as you sigh.
"it's the rules," a kiss to the top of your head and you want to scream and cry and bang at his chest. but you don't, you stay still in his grasp, holding your calm in your hands so tightly.
"the rules are stupid," you mumble into his shirt, he moves a hand to rub your back.
he chuckles, nodding in agreement before speaking again, "I agree, love."
days pass after he sent you back, you mulled over ways and methods you could reach him again in desperate hope he'd finally give in to your pleas and let you stay.
you were wandering the woods, pacing between trees as you tried to narrow down your plans. you could try summoning him, but it wasn't fool proof. you could try to speak to him through meditation, but he sometimes ignored you 'for your sake'.
you weren't sure what would work, and you were kicking yourself for not knowing. but also for the doubts that filled your mind. what if he kicked you out again? told you to never see him again and made sure you couldn't? what if he forced you to live out your mortality purely out of his anger at you. what if he was angry?
you sigh, resting your head against the tree, sighing as you screw your eyes shut, banging your fist against the bark before stepping back.
"what more do you want?" you beckon up at the sky, he's not listening, you're sure of it but you need to be angry at something, somewhere. it's unfair.
"for you to listen," his voice mumbles in your mind and you scoff, shaking your head as the memory of his accent echoes in your mind.
"yeah well, you don't have the best ideas, now do you?"
"y/n.." he murmurs, his tone a gentle warning to you so you don't say something you'll regret. or do something, for that matter.
"wilbur," you copy his tone, mocking it almost before you groan, falling to sit on the ground.
"you know you can't do this, you know that," you can hear the strain in his voice, the way he draws it out and softens it just to reach out to you and make amends for it.
"but what else am I meant to do?" you want to scream at the top of your lungs, cry to him and bitch about the situation you're in. how you're continually denied what you want. you thought you proved yourself, you thought you proved that you could handle immortality. that you could handle him.
it's silent, not a sound is made around you or even echoed in your mind. you wondered if his methods of communication were a curse or a blessing. it felt more like a curse at the moment. it felt like a taunt to you, how powerless you felt down on earth, in morality. you felt so out of control, like a puppet. and maybe wilbur was the puppeteer, but who’s to say it wasn’t someone else? maybe he was just an illusion, a hallucination that controlled your motives and thoughts simply by the prospect of maybe having some hope to grasp onto. a nice, soft candle in the middle of a dark and empty room.
he was the light you couldn’t quite reach.
he finally speaks up, his tone rushed and worried, but his words keep you from second guessing it, “i have an idea.”
“what?” you mumble, nearly tripping over the single word.
“you want to stay with me, yes?” he sounds almost frustrated for a moment before sighing almost exasperated.
“yes, yes, that’s what i’ve been saying. you never listen-“
wilbur cuts you off, “i listen, i promise. okay? i listen to you, now, listen to me for a second, okay baby?”
you ponder for a moment before giving in, “fine.”
“i’ll let you come back, under a few conditions,” you wait a moment, giving him time to list his conditions but he doesn’t seem to budge on his own.
“and what are those?” you fold your arms over your chest, huffing as you imagine wilbur pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing at you.
“i’ll tell you when you get here, okay?” he pauses, sand surprisingly you can hear the hesitation almost as if he were there with you and not just speaking through your mind, “there’s a tree-“
“a tree? wow, so fancy,” your annoyance bubbling up at the way he wasn’t being direct.
he warns you again, a whispering of your name to keep you in line before he continues, “there’s a tree a few minutes in front of you, there will be lilliums around the base and a circle door in the middle. it’ll take you here, no need to do what you normally do, okay? please just, don’t do something stupid and get up here, okay?”
you take a moment before answering, wondering if you want to believe him or ignore him at the moment, “okay, fine.”
you wait a few minutes, making sure he doesn’t have anything more to say before standing up and beginning the walk over to the tree. it feels stupid, how hopeful you are and how confident you feel over walking to a damn tree as if it’ll fix your biggest qualm with the way your god’s world works. you stop short, maybe a good eight feet from the base of the tree, your eyes dancing around and staring at the lilly flowers lining the base and spreading over the roots. you play with the idea of turning around and walking back, abandoning him and any loyalty you had to him. but then you look back at the trunk before you and sigh, giving in and stepping back towards it. your fingers reach out to grasp the hook on the corner, pulling it back and crawling in, not without doubts of course but you aren’t sure what you have to lose.
you pull the door back to close it and turn around, darkness encompassing your whole being as you feel a sort of light feeling take over your senses. are you dreaming? it doesn’t feel like a dream, but it seems like one. are you real? is this real?
your thoughts shut off, cut like a guillotine, but the blade being the darkness and silence. you no longer felt anything but a void, and then you began to feel warm fabric, and then a whiff of cologne hit your nose and then you were finally able to open your eyes.
“i see you’re awake?” you peek up, rubbing your eyes as you take in your surroundings, eyes catching on the familiar figure of wilbur, sitting in a reading chair in the corner of his bedroom. you’ve been here before, you’ve slept in this bed but now it feels different. it’s a good different, but it isn’t the same.
“i am now,” you pause, tossing the covers over and off your legs as you sit up against the ornate headboard, gazing over at him as he meets your eyes and sets down his journal, “what happened?”
“i convinced myself that i could manage switching your role to immortal,” he sighs, moving his gaze to the floor as he chews his lip, mind reeling as he lists off all the rules he broke just to bring his love into his life.
“mm, was it paperwork that kept you from it?” you chuckle, much too happy at the moment to even think of how angry you were and still are at him.
“no,” he chuckles dryly, shaking his head, “it was.. more serious than that but that’s no talk for now. how are you feeling, love?” he stands from his chair, finding a spot on the edge of the bed by your feet and resting his hands on your legs.
“i couldn’t be more tired, what the hell happened? how did i get here?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes as you take note of the pulsing ache at your temples.
“i guided you through a dream, to get here, and once you reached this world, i switched some things around in your file,” he squeezes your calf, his eyes staring at the wall for a good minute before meeting your gaze.
“so that means…?”
“you’re immortal and no longer have any ties with your old world, you’re mine now, just the way you wanted,” he sighs, lifting your legs to lay over his lap as he reaches over and kisses your forehead. there’s a sort of calmness about him that you’ve yet to see until now. you never knew such peace could exist in him.
“i’ll answer any question you have.” you nod to him, acknowledging his offer but not knowing where to start,
you have too many questions to even verbalize, or let alone ask, and the growing headache isn’t helping either. so after a moment’s contemplation, you decide to let the piles questions take a rest while you enjoy your wilbur’s company.
you lean forward and kiss his cheek once, and you watch as a gentle rosiness floods the pale skin that he adorns and his lips curl up in a smile.
“how about we have a day to ourselves and celebrate?” you suggest, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers, chewing on your lip as you keep your eyes down.
“okay, as long as you promise to ask questions later?” he tilts your head up by your chin, a loving care in his eyes.
“promise,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose before continuing and jumping off the bed, “now show me that pretty garden you have, yeah?”
he smiles, standing up and meeting you where you stand. he leans down, hands resting on your cheeks with giggles escaping his lips at your excitement, “may i kiss you first?”
“yes, sir you may,” your fingers wrap around his waist as he brings his lips to yours, smiling softly as your mouths move in sync. a moments pass before you both need air and you pull back, moving to tug on his hand, “now come on! show me the lilliums!”
he leads you out to the garden, smiling the whole way as he can’t help but to think how grateful he is that he broke a few rules and let heaven be you.
taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos
194 notes · View notes
poraphia · 7 months
Note
Halloooo ^^ ..
I read a lot of ur stories and now Im in love with fictions :3 (might need therapy cuz of it but nvm that)
U an amazing writer <3
(Im pretty new to Tumblr so extremely sorry if this ends up where it shouldnt be or smth like that lol)
But anywaaay , Can I pls request a Wilbur Soot angst fic :D ?
Im going thru THAT phase rn so anything would be awsome really ..
Maybe a fight (unintentionally) breaks out between Wilby and reader and Wilby accidentally raises his voice and reader gets scared ? I know its a cheesy story and people might'a written before but I barely find Wilbur angst fics anymore :(((
Anyway , Thank u so much .. U dont have to write any of this if ur uncomfortable .. Hope ur doing okay :> .. Take care n' bye :D
"You’re Being Too Loud."
➵ PAIRING! cc!stressed!wilbur x stressed!reader
➵ CREATING! 10.12.23 | 1444 words
➵ CONTAINING! angst to comfort, wilbur is ignoring reader, reader lowkey has attachment issues, reader sensitive to loud noises, wilbs is overworked
➵ SAYING! hiii @toastyliltoasts41 welcome to tumblr! sorry for the late late response but i hope you enjoy :) personally going thru this myself especially w so much work ive been doing recently and also im noise sensitive (literally walk around with noise canceling headphones all the time). thank u for all the nice words!
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
I slipped off my shoes and placed them near the doorstep. My socks glided against the furnished planks as I slid to our shared office. I dragged my backpack behind me, feeling the weight of my laptop, notebooks, and textbooks. Once I made it to the room, I placed my bag on the chair and unpacked all my belongings onto my desk.
Today was too exhausting, and the one thing I dreaded doing right now was to open my laptop and be faced with more work. Instead of taking my laptop with me, I grabbed my phone and dragged myself out of the office and into the bedroom.
After changing into my loungewear, I snuggled myself into silk sheets, shivering a little from the cold fabric wrapping around my body. Ignoring the chill, I held up my phone with both of my hands and swiped open the messaging app to text my boyfriend. I glanced at the past messages, realizing that Wil hasn’t responded to any of my messages from this afternoon. The last time he texted was this morning when was telling me what time he would come home. Sighing, I typed in another message in hopes that this time he would respond.
“Hey, I’m home now. Too tired to cook food today. Let’s order something when you get home? <3”
I clicked send before clicking off my phone and placing it on the nightstand. My eyes fluttered close, and slowly, I drifted off to sleep.
I woke to the sound of footsteps clicking against the ground. With my hands I pushed my body up to examine the noise. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a familiar tall figure headed toward the office. A small smile formed on my face as I carefully got out of bed.
My bare freet pressed against the cream colored carpet. I wandered around the hallway before finding the office door slightly ajar. Through the crack I saw Wil hunched over his computer. His sweater’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his fingers hastily clicked against his keyboard. Quietly, I approached him from behind, throwing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him close.
Wil quietly hummed in response. I titled my head, pecking his cheek, but he didn’t react and instead his eyes stayed glue to his screen. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, but nonetheless, I continued hugging him.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I mumbled in a croaky voice.
“Hey,” he replied blankly.
“Did you see my texts earlier today?”
“Uh huh,” He said absently. “I saw the message after I ate though. Sorry.”
I felt my chest tighten a little, hurting at his absence. All I wanted in the moment was a hug and a conversation about each other’s day, but instead, he was absorbed in his work and couldn’t even make the effort to look at me.
“Wil, can we talk?” I asked.
He slightly shook his head. “No, not right now, honey. This video has to be out by tomorrow and one of our editors hasn’t been feeling well so I took up the work.” He explained briefly.
“But you’re already busy working at the studio…” I mumbled.
“I know, but I can finish this up by tonight. Just give me some time, please.” He requested. My heart skipped a little, feeling like a dog that had been put aside for a brand new puppy.
“Wil, you haven’t talked to me all day. Could we at least just have dinner together?” I nearly pleaded.
“I already said I just ate, (y/n).” Wil said rather sternly. “Please can I just finish my work?”
“But I want to spend time with you.” I said, speaking up a little bit. I unwrapped my hands away from him and stepped back a little. He turned his chair a little to face me with one of his hands still on the keyboard. He looked up at me, a stressed but furrowed expression on his face. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my own chest.
“I want to spend time with you but you’re basically prioritizing this work over me.” I said again. “I understand that sometimes you have too much work. I understand that. But we haven’t been spending time with each other for the past few days and it’s driving me crazy. I just want to relax with you, Wil.” I bit the insides of my cheek. Wil, in turn, sighed and rubbed his nosebridge.
“I’m not prioritizing work over you, (y/n), I’ve just been busy lately and this argument is just stressing me out even more.” His words were spat out like venom.
“Which is why I’m asking that we just spend time together! This isn’t just for me, but it’s for you too.” I threw my hands up, frustrated. “Wilbur, we can relax together! You’re acting like this isn’t stressing me out either!”
Wil got up from his seat now. His tall figure nearly towered over me, making me slightly cower. “I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING RELAX RIGHT NOW, (Y/N)! I HAVE SHIT TO DO!”
I stepped back, nearly stumbling. Without realizing, tears were running down my burning hot cheeks. The air went cold and I felt this hallowing emptiness surrounding me. A ringing was bouncing in my eardrums and goosebumps ran through my arms and legs. He looked down at me, eyes wide as if he just realized what words escaped his lips. Before he could say a word, I walked out of the office and back into bed, slamming the door behind me.
I jumped into the mattress and buried my face deep under the sheets. I quietly sobbed into the fabric, not caring for the tears darkening the silk. It didn’t take but a couple minutes later to hear the creaking of the door and soft footsteps approaching the bed. I lied still under the covers as I felt the mattress dip from a newfound weight.
Wil sat there for a while. His knee shook a little, making a tiny thumping noise against the floor. I was turned away from him with his lower back lightly pressing against the heel of my foot.
“(y/n)..?” He softly called out for me. “Are you awake..?”
I shifted a little, moving my foot away from him to let him know I was listening. He sighed with his leg coming to a stop.
“(y/n), I’m sorry. I—I’ve just been really stressed, but that gives me no right to start yelling at you. And me being really busy has been taking away the time with you.” He paused a little bit, presumably licking his lips. I still didn’t have the courage to move. Instead I laid still, not daring to move. “I’m really sorry, (y/n).” He apologized again.
A deep sigh huffed from my nostrils before I sat up, letting the sheets cascade off my body. He turned his head to look at me, his feet still planted on the ground. I looked into his eyes, seeing the pained looked deep in those irises.
“Y-You know I don’t like loud noises.” I croaked out, my voice cracking with my words. He slowly nodded, bringing his legs up on the bed to fully face me. “And I really don’t like it when you yell. Please, I really just wanted to spend time together.”
“And we will spend time together.” He grabbed my hands and cradled them in his. “I’ll message Elodie right now if she could finish the work. But right now, it’s going to be me and you together, okay? We can maybe catch up on our show and I’ll order some food for you, okay?” He reassured, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. “Maybe I’ll steal some fries from you every once in a while.”
I giggled a little. “Noooo! Get your own food!” I whined, lightly pushing his shoulder. He chuckled in response before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his torso in response, breathing in his scent.
“I just missed you, Wil, you know that…” I softly whispered. He nodded, running his fingers through my hair.
“I missed you too. I promise I do.” He whispered back. His voice was low and deep but he made sure to maintain his volume. It was soothing, something I could fall asleep to,
and most importantly,
it wasn’t loud.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
a / n ~ hope you enjoyeddd notes of all kind are super duper appreciated! if you wanna be in a taglist or an anon my inbox is always freee :D ALSO SURPRISE!! TWO ONESHOTS IN ONE DAY I AM ON A ROLLLL
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gizmo-writes · 11 months
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angel shot | wilbur soot
I saw a tiktok about angels shots then came up with this idea lol
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You stood in the crowded bar, heart racing. You pushed through the crowd making your way to the bar. You stood besides a tall man, you noted his curly brown hair and glasses. He was smiling, drink in hand as he talked to who you were assuming was his friend. You tried to flag down the bartender, a bald man covered in tattoos. "Hello?" You called out, trying to get his attention but you were waved off. The tall man besides you looked down at you, "everything okay?" He asked, British accent evident in his voice. "I-I need the bartender," you said, voice shaking as you looked around the bar. "What'd you need? I Can order it for you," he said.
You didn't know this man but he seemed genuinely nice so you told him, "I need an angel shot," part of you hoped he had no idea what it was so you could keep what was happening on the down low, but the way his face fell.. he knew what an angel shot meant. He sat down his drink, "okay, okay. I'll get the bartender. Is whoever it is close?" He asked, looking around the bar. You nodded, "the guy with the yellow hat.. he's been following me around all night and I-I want to leave but when I headed towards the door he followed me." You explained. The tall man nodded, staring down the other man in the yellow cap. "Okay, my names Wil by the way. Just stay close alright?" Wilbur said, placing a hand on the small of your back and moving you to stand in front of him. With any other man you would've felt trapped, stuck between the bar and him, but he seemed so nice, so gentle that you didn't mind. He flagged down the bartender, immediately getting his attention. "Hey man, can we get an angel shot," he said, motioning towards you. The bartender nodded, "who is it wil?" He asked. Oh, so he knew the bartender. "Guy in the yellow cap, been following her around all night." Wilbur explained. "I'll get it handled, anything else?" He asked and Wilbur looked down at you. "Can- can you call me a cab?" You asked. "A cab? No no, let me take you home. Cabs aren't safe. Listen, i have a driver i Can call up." Wilbur explained to you. You looked at him confused, a driver? What the hell did ge mean? Was he famous? Rich? "A driver?" You asked. "Yeah, yeah.. so I'm part of this band. We have a driver we can call up to get us places. I Can call him, make sure you get home safe." He offered. Well, might as well.
Wilbur called up his driver, walking you out of the bar once he pulled up. He helped you into the car, "okay, the driver has your address. Here's my number, call me when you get home, okay?" Wilbur said handing you a piece of paper with his number on it. "Oh, thank you so much. Do you need- do i pay you?" You asked. Wilbur chuckled, "no need, it's on me. Just call me when you're home. Okay?" He said. "Okay," you smiled. And with that you went home.
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lcvejoy · 10 months
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i want you to stay
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wilbur soot x gn!reader
tw: crying? breakups? angst? hurt/comfort maybe ig kinda? very abrupt ending.
word count: 1,068
a/n: this is my first fic so be very gentle with me lmao. it’s angsty tho! we love angsty! angsty is so fun! sorry in advance this prolly isn’t the grandest, but it’s a start!
it’s been 4 months. it’s meant to be easier by now.
the breakup had been mutual. you thought that mutual breakups were supposed to be easier to cope with but these 4 months have proven otherwise.
you wish it had been messy. that there was a catastrophic argument, a slammed door and car headlights.
instead, it was mutually agreed upon that you and wil were just at two very different stages of life. with his music and your studies, you both ran out of time for eachother.
at first, you and wil spoke often. you texted daily, he called weekly, each conversation still ended with a rushed “i love you”.
but that faded out. it got quiet. it got still.
and now it’s been 4 months, and you’re sitting on your couch watching a re-run episode of a comedy show that hasn’t aired in 7 years while eating leftover take-out.
there’s a quick knock at the door. you rush to answer. you’re met with a mop of brown hair, eyes that hold so much glimmer you’d mistake it for a galaxy, and an all too familiar khaki coat.
“wil?”
he’s out of breath, leaning slightly against the doorframe with one hand while puffing out his cheeks as he takes in dramatic breaths.
“i leave tomorrow… f-for america” he takes a breath in, standing upright now, “i just wanted to say goodbye. i’ll be gone a couple months” he finishes, waiting.
“oh” you splutter, “okay”.
“okay” he agrees. he’s searching your eyes as he pauses. the pause feels too long. there’s a feeling of wariness, both of you are unsure exactly what to say.
“well… b-bye” you finally mutter, looking down at your feet.
he lets out a breath. “bye” he whispers, and begins turning around to walk off your front porch step. you stay planted where you are, refusing to watch him walk away but listening to each step he takes.
he stops abruptly. you can hear his shoes plant themselves under pebbles, can hear him taking long inhales and shaky exhales. you wait.
“ask me to stay.” his voice comes out shaky. you look up, he’s facing away from you, looking down at his feet as he plays with the hem of his coat.
“what?” you ask, though it sounds more like a plea coming from your lips. “please” he mutters, turning around to face you. you lock eyes for the first time in months. you realize you can no longer read his expression. you can’t tell what he’s feeling just by looking at his eyes. it breaks you a little more.
“a-ask me to stay. please, just ask me to stay” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear it, like it’s a secret he’s been keeping. his eyes are glossed over. you feel your own begin to well-up with tears.
“i’ll stay if you ask” he shakes his head, looking back down at his feet. “i-i’ll do anything you ask. i’ll call off the whole tour. i-“ his voice breaks, he looks back up at you, both of your cheeks wet with tears. “please” he begs.
you shake your head, closing your eyes to force yourself not to look at him. he waits for you to answer, to think, to feel. he’s always been patient with you.
you open your eyes to meet his - “i cant” you whisper, “you want this too badly, wil”.
“i want you more” he responds quickly, with a firm but wavering voice, “i want you more” he repeats, as if convincing himself it’s true. you shake your head again, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a sob. the tears are pouring now.
“i-i cant ask you to drop your whole tour just for me, wil. even if you want me to, i couldn’t-i cant do that” you pause to take a shuddered breath, looking at him once again. he stands there, staring, tears streaming down his cheek like a waterfall. “i would never do that” you finish. you stare at one another, both of your tears never falter.
finally, he breaks.
his knees buckle from underneath him as he falls to the ground. sobs wrack his whole body. he brings his hand up to his eyes to shield you from seeing his face as it crumples.
“wil?” you start, edging toward him slowly.
“wil?” you try again, slowly lowering yourself in front of him to match his height.
his breathing is sporadic as he tries to calm down his sobs, desperately wiping his tears on his sleeve.
“im sorry” he chokes out, as he continues to fall apart in front of you. you place a hand on his shoulder in a desperate attempt to comfort him. “i just-“ he continues “i just really fucking miss you” he looks up now, his face red and splotchy from the tears, his nose running, his hair messier than ever. “i miss you and i-i would do anything you asked of me if it meant i get to come home” he whimpers.
your chest hurts - as if your already shattered heart has just been smashed into a million unfixable pieces. you look at him desperately, like you’re asking him how do i fix this? tell me how to fix it. how can i take your pain away?
“you can come home” you whisper, new tears gather in your eyes, “i-“ you take a deep breath “c-can you stay the night? i haven’t been sleeping well”.
his eyes widen with an almost childlike astonishment.
“just for tonight” you state “and tomorrow you’ll go on tour as planned. and we’ll call everyday until you come back home. y-you can tell me about how awful america is through each city”
he laughs wetly, wiping his remaining tears on his sleeve once more. you do the same.
he grabs both of your hands in his and begins to stand, causing you to follow his actions. he grips tightly, almost hugging your hands into his chest. “okay” he whispers.
you smile lightly at him and begin leading him into the front door, where you both have countless memories and you both hope to make countless more.
you lead him to the bed that never quite felt like yours without him in it, and, like muscle memory, you lay together like you had once done every night.
you don’t have much trouble sleeping that night.
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