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#and wilbur needing to catch up to that

firesnap · 2 years

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The quietness that sorta enveloped c!Wilbur post-Ho16 and timid flashes and vulnerability we'd see as Wilbur learns, whether it's good or bad, that he's still him regardless of scars or personas or whatever role he takes on. has me in a chokehold right now.

Like, the idea of Wilbur struggling with how a half-hearted apology, a scar across his chest, a big showman act or hastily executed scheme doesn't change or hide the most vulnerable or honest or ugly parts of himself is such a fun exploration of the character. The whole series of apologies just boiling down to that, regardless of what he wishes the world to see, it doesn't change that he's still him is such a interesting twist on a "redemption." It was never about Wilbur coming to terms with betraying people, but rather that the root of all the harm Wilbur caused others was because he was trying to avoid himself.

Then compare that to his last interactions with Phil and the way their talk in the cabin is the first time we hear that broken sounding realization that Wilbur knows he's not okay and Phil just let's that be as a statement. The last thing Wilbur needed was some false reassurance that he was fine, that things would be fine, and instead gets someone who just let's the ugly truth sit out to breath.

I dunno. I think I got caught up in the questionable advice Philza gave at the time and overlooked how much that conversation was such a good set up for what was to come. Philza sees Wilbur, regardless of the new scars and scruffed appearance and dramatic ideas, and will let that Wilbur just exist. By the end of the arc, we realize the whole journey was about Wilbur getting to that place with himself.

Was him leaving him realizing that he needed to make changes in himself? Or was it an attempt at changing the set locale instead of his role and just repeating past behaviors in new and exciting ways? There's an openness to it that works for me. A character that usually deals in such finalities allowing some uncertainty into the narrative.

#this has all been in my head since wolfy started doing those sand duo sketches #of philza realizing wilbur is still wilbur despite the changes in wilbur's body or way of holding himself #and wilbur needing to catch up to that

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acutecoral · 3 months

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Transcript for Quackity's recent stream

twitch

[Quackity start talking around 1:03 in, but before he speaks you can hear him breathe and sniffle a little]

Quackity: Hello everyone, uh…uh, I'm just waiting for enough people to get here. This is a very important stream. So I'm just going to wait a little bit.

Quackity: Um…[sharp intake of breath] Hello! I hope everyone is having a good night. I'm doing an urgent stream. Only to keep everyone updated on everything that's happening.

Quackity: I wanna apologise for this scuffed stream. I'm not on any of my set-ups right now, I wasn't expecting to stream right now so I don't even have a camera. But I wanna to let everyone know, that I've been out and I'm catching up on a lot of matters right now…

Quackity: Including a statement, that was just now, made without my approval.

Quackity: I've been notified, about an ongoing situation regarding Quackity Studios and I want to address it. Please bear with me as I'm barely catching up on a lot of these matters.

[He sniffles again]

Quackity: One gathering is that volunteers for Quackity Studios: are not being paid and are being given too many hours of activities.

Quackity: I wanna let everyone know that I was aware of a voluntary position, and I was under the assumption that there was a process volunteers would go through, to integrate themselves to the team with a fully paying job. What I was not aware of, is to what extent and conditions were being required from the volunteers.

Quackity: And I wanna thank everyone who brought this to my attention, because it is very clear to me that I need a much deeper involvement in the administrative part of my team. Something I have not been very involved with recently.

Quackity: I'm gonna perform a deep investigation, personally, on this matter as to see exactly what's happening. But one thing is very clear to me.

Quackity: There are going to be very drastic changes in QSMP moving forward. From the administrative perspective, and from the creative perspective as well.

Quackity: My responsibility relies on knowing what is happening in the project I am running. And for not being more involved? I want to deeply apologise. This should have never happened, and I am extremely disappointed.

Quackity: From here on out, I wanna make one thing clear: Everybody involved in Quackity Studios will be paid. And if at any point my own funds are not sufficient enough to pay workers or maintain the project? Then the QSMP cannot continue and it will close down. That's how committed I am to this project.

Quackity: So I wanted to make that extremely, extremely clear as to where I stand on this.

[Quackity in the next line sounds choked up]

Quackity: And this…n-next topic is very difficult for me to process, and it's an extremely sensitive thing, and I was waiting for the correct time for me but…that can wait, no longer. And I need to let everyone know that Wilbur is no longer a part of the QSMP.

Quackity: Lastly, I wanna thank everyone for their patience. This…year…has been very turbulent…for me. And I'm going to be very open; it's been one of the saddest years of my life.

Quackity: I'm trying to move forward and give everyone the best version of myself, and I'm very, very sorry if I've disappointed you.

Quackity: But…nonetheless, I gotta keep moving forward and I'm gonna keep working hard and I'm going to do what's right. And I wanna make this very clear.

Quackity: So thank you everyone. And um, yeah, I hope everyone has a good night. Thank you.

#qsmp #qsmp posts #quackity #qsmp transcriptions #our hearts go out to him #we hope things shift to a better direction

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em-allay · 2 years

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Wilbur: starts streaming

Me: welp there goes all my plans

#who needs plans when my uncomfort streamer is streaming #/j #i was only trying to catch up on fanfics #wilbur soot #mcyt #liveblogging

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m4ycrowave · 2 years

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Au where SBI are heroes and Tommy becomes a villain to spend time with them

Explanation:

Basically Phil, Wilbur, and Techno are all superheroes, the best ones in the city, but because they're so busy saving lives all the time they accidentally start to neglect their youngest, Tommy. So Tommy realizes that the only way to see his family is when they're at work.

The problem is that Phil, Techno, and Wilbur don't want to let tommy become a hero since they don't want him to get hurt

So Tommy becomes a villain instead

Turns out he's a bit too good at being a villain, because his family can never catch him.

Cue his family neglecting Tommy more, but spending more time trying to catch this new villain who just seems to know exactly how to outsmart them.

Tommy realizes that he can be himself around his family when he's the villain, loud laugh, funny jokes that annoy them.. all without the tension and guilt that all of them seem to have around him. So Tommy stops bothering to try and spend time with his family as a civilian, after all, all he needs to do is blow up an entire building and his family will come.

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lowkeyrobin · 3 months

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can i ask for qsmp reacting to new member reader who is russian??

yes of course!! I love this request sm, hopefully I got everyone you're looking for! sorry if these are a little ooc, I'm learning a lot and watching a lot about the qsmp still so hopefully this is good lol. kind of a mix of q! selves and cc! selves so 💀

QSMP ; meeting a russian creator

includes ; tubbo, quackity, cellbit, jaiden, roier, wilbur, foolish, slimecicle, tina, and nihachu

warnings ; language, probably ooc 💀💀

masterlist

TUBBO

"oh, hi! are you the new member???"

he's really nice, helps you build a house and stuff to get started and whatnot

you, him & sunny spend a lot of time together, especially because quackity gave you your own child too

sunny & your egg absolutely love each other, and perfectly balance one another out

tubbo teaches you all about his machines and factories and whatnot

welcomes you with open arms to the town of fobo

talks to you about the federation and whatnot, how they're basically the government and to just avoid them at all costs

even with a language barrier (if you don't speak English as well) you guys are so tight

always fucking around together somehow

he adds you into his lore as well

QUACKITY

welcomes you with kindness and open arms

introduces you to your own egg 😭🫶

he's got a lot of energy and is very chaotic, literally sprints around the whole smp showing you everything and catching you up into lore stuff

if he fucks up a first impression, he repeatedly tries to make it up and corrects himself and whatnot

doing dumb shit with him and richarlyson is a must

you guys become really good friends and make some great lore ideas together

if you speak a little/lot of English, you guys will just have chitter-chatter streams together and build a little tree house for the eggs

CELLBIT

"hello!!"

you teach him a little Russian and he teaches you a little French

even if you have a language barrier he's really nice to you

very selfless, if you need something, hes got you

if you get kidnapped, good lord is he holding a grudge

has a protective type of personality, makes sure to keep you and your egg safe if you two come across some federation funny business together

starts to learn Russian because he thinks it's a cool language

surprises you one day with a phrase in Russian and you're just like "???? hello cellbit?"

"was that a good pronunciation? I'm still learning"

puzzles >>>>

used to be a rlly good pvper so he teaches you some outdated tricks lol

JAIDEN

"Oh my God, hi!!"

teaches you all about how the smp works and tells you all about her adventures

also takes you on adventures with her when you stream together

through the language barrier, you still get along really well and enjoy each other's humor and company

building together >>>

such great inputs from each side

in lore, she's kind of just off to herself, and alone

she can't really trust other people whatsoever now

but when you come around, she's a bit more open but obviously wants to be left alone

teaches you all about her pets

she rubbed off her love for vocaloid on you

ROIER

welcomes you with a smile

teaches you all about lore and whatnot

mentions his and cellbits wedding at least 3 times

gives you a little referral to therapy

he's currently a rat in lore so uh

he kinda just uses you as a pedestal for now

"y/n, tell them that im the superior rat, please"

you repeat the phrase in russian to any other russian creators you joined the server with

becomes a co-parent to your egg

very level-headed, somehow always has a plan

"Oh, yeah, the federation kidnaps people, just stay away from them"

"Dude what"

everyday is his birthday

you play into the bit by singing happy birthday in russian and giving him some sort of food

WILBUR SOOT

very formal first impression

introduces you to tallulah

tallulah is kinda iffy about you and your egg at first but she warms up to you guys

if you're the building type, he'll do the dirty work to get you the stuff you need to make a house, or anything you wanna build

on top of learning french, dutch, and spanish, you get him invested in russian as well

in lore, he believes that most problems can be solved by love, and you just kinda go with it because he's nice enough and whatnot

teaches you some stuff about music

you guys do a lot of yap streams while grinding up some resources on the island to make some new locations and whatnot

"the pattern you're doing looks like upside down dicks"

"wh- wilbur, why would you say that?"

if you're still learning English, and it's kinda broken when you speak or you say something wrong, he kindly corrects you and teaches you correct pronunciations

becomes a co-parent to your egg as well

you teach the eggs the "scary fight like a badass" stuff and he's the "be nice, children" parent

FOOLISH GAMERS

you're immediately introduced to his laugh

kind of reckless, but pretty laid back

pretty playful as well, likes to joke around with you

he doesn't have a reason to not trust you yk

you're very overprotective of your egg and anxious that you'll let something bad happen, but if he becomes a co-parent, he releases your egg from the little plastic box you have them in when you aren't around

does the whole Batman bit with you on your first stream on the qsmp

holy shit the amount of laughter

he wants to leave a good impression on you, thinks you're really cool lol

you've mutually decided that he builds exteriors, you design interiors

SLIMECICLE

probably wasn't even aware new people were joining

"who the hell is that???"

like you're trying to let quackity teach you the basics and he's staring from a distance like he's gonna plot to kill you

tries to joke around and say hello in russian but ends up saying some random phrase that didn't make sense

"You just said your toes taste like cheese"

"Wait, what?"

makes you a bitch wife/husband asap

makes you curse people out in russian when he gets slightly offended

definition of the uwu cat boy and tall angry bully gay stereotype

in lore he's got some serious psychological problems but it's okay!! you can deal with it

quackity tells you about the whole gegg think and you sit there like "okay wtf"

TINA KITTEN

you guys just kinda run into each other one day and you ask her for help on something

something clicked man, yall are such an iconic duo

you guys build a whole mansion near the sea together for the eggs

in lore, she's pretty reserved and isolates herself, and you become one of the many tk worry about her and try and give her advice

secrets are safe with her 💳💥💥💥

you guys own a little farm together too

Em and your egg get along so well

she has a little proud mom moment

tetris competitions.

she likes to draw and she loves drawing you and your egg together it's so cute

NIKI NIHACHU

she's kind of shy but your personalities balance each other out

she's sworn to protect everyone, and you and your egg are quickly added to that list

baking with her>>

you work with her at empanadas bakery

she talks to you all about psychology and how it fascinates her and stuff

you learn a lot from her

lots of compliments whether it be builds or even outfits you're showing off to you're stream

she easily becomes a co-parent of your egg lol

#lowkeyrobin #mcyt preferences #mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt oneshot #quackity x reader #nihachu x reader #tubbo x reader #qsmp #qsmp x reader #qsmp tubbo #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #qsmp jaiden #qsmp tina #qsmp niki

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wilbursprincess · 4 months

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“It Was So Lonely Sleeping Alone”

Superstarbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Just a whole lot of soft, fluffy reunion sex. Enjoy :)

This was one of the blurbs I wrote for my personal fictober this year, with the prompt “Reunion Sex”. First of 5 blurbs from my fictober I like enough to post, haha! This one is inspired by my own Bursona invention, whom I call “Superstarbur” after my favorite Taylor Swift song Superstar! I know, I know, quite the mouthful lol.

Smut under the cut!!!

I sigh, stretching out my legs on the empty, empty sofa. Wilbur’s been gone for just over two weeks, playing multiple sold out shows all over the country, and I was happy for him. No matter how many cute little videos of him slipping my name into songs during soundchecks, half-asleep selfies in his bunk on the bus, or dirty texts detailing every little thing he wanted to do to me, I still missed him. A lot. I missed Wilbur so much I could almost feel his absence, like an aching hole in my chest.

In the absence of him in our house, I’d taken to wearing his clothes. Obviously, they didn’t fit me at all, hoodie sleeves draping far over my hands and almost tripping on the hems of his sweatpants. But I didn’t care. They smelled like him, a familiar mix of his aftershave, deodorant, and shampoo, which was the closest I had to Wilbur himself.

A car door slams outside, making me jump, phone plopping screen-down onto the rug. I shake my head, silently chatising myself for being so jumpy at such a small sound. Retriviving my phone from the floor, I get up the sofa, heading into the kitchen. Maybe tea would calm my nerves.

Setting the kettle on to boil, I rummage through the cupboards, setting Wilbur’s favorite mug down and dropping a chamomile tea bag inside, adding a generous squirt of honey before topping off the mug with the freshly-boiled water.

I hear a key slide into the door, snapping up my head.

It’s just Tommy checking in on me.

The door flings wide open, bringing with it the chill of night air and a spray of rainwater, and the thunk of a suitcase.

A suitcase?

Socks sliding on the wooden floor, I run into the front hallway, just as an achingly familiar voice speaks from the doorway.

“Baby?”

“Will?” My breath catches in my throat as Wilbur steps into the light. “You’re home?”

He smiles, looking absolutely exhausted. “I am. I decided to surprise you by coming home a day early-”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, I run into his waiting arms, not caring how the water from his raincoat soaks into my clothes. “I missed you so much, Will,” I murmur into him, and he nods, hugging me tighter.

“Fuck, I missed you so much too,” he replies, tipping my chin up and kissing me. It’s deep, slow, and soft; making my heart swell with love.

“Do you need anything?” I ask when we pull back some time later. “You look exhausted.”

Wilbur smiles, somewhat-wearily. “That’s quite an understatement. I feel like I haven’t slept the entire tour.”

I press my mug of tea into his hands. “Have this, Will, you’re freezing, and go change,” I tell him, ushering him into our room. “I’ll make you some food, ok?”

While he changes, I get to work in the kitchen, frying eggs, popping toast into the toaster, and mashing up the remnants of an avocado I found in the fridge.

“That smells amazing.” Wilbur’s voice makes me jump, looking up from where I’m flipping the eggs. He’s changed into flannel pajama pants and an oversized hoodie, the silly matching cow slippers I bought us last Christmas on his feet. “Fuck, I haven’t had a proper cooked meal in ages.”

I slide the eggs onto the avocado-laden toast, topping it with a sprinkle of red pepper flakes and my favorite bagel seasoning. “Here you go. It’s not much, but-”

Before I’ve even finished my sentence, Wilbur’s shoved a bite of toast in his mouth.

“You could maybe try not to choke on your first night home in over two weeks,” I tease, and he swallows the mouthful with a smirk.

“That’s the best meal I’ve had all tour,” he says, smiling. “I’m so glad to be home.”

I perch on the counter while he finishes his toast and tea in record time, entertaining him with stories from when he’s been gone.

“Do you want to sleep now, Will?” I ask, rinsing off the plate and putting it in the dishwasher.

Sleepily, he nods. “I didn’t sleep great on the bus,” he murmurs, looking like he’s about to fall asleep at the table. “I have a lot of sleep to catch up on.”

“You go get ready for bed, I’ll finish cleaning up,” I tell him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his forehead.

Wilbur’s already in bed when I get into our room, dozing while I turn off the light and snuggle up to his side.

I close my eyes, expecting him to be asleep already, and I’m not expecting him to stir, groaning and pulling me closer into his chest. “I missed you so much,” he whispers, lightly planting kisses all over my face. “It was so lonely sleeping alone on the tour bus.”

“It was so lonely sleeping here alone too,” I murmur my reply, playing with his hair. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

Groaning, Wilbur rolls on top of me, slipping his hands up my shirt and kissing me so hard it shocks me for a second. “I need you,” he breathes, squeezing my hips as his teeth sink in my lower lip. “I’m so horny.”

Giggling, I trail a hand down his bare back. “Are you, now?”

He nods. “Haven’t had any privacy all tour,” he gasps, rubbing over my nipples. “Walls are too thin on the bus.”

“Well, I’m all yours,” I coo, reaching down to palm at him over his boxers. Wilbur whines and tries to push up into my touch. “You wanna fuck me?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” he groans, fumbling to get out of his boxers as I tug my shirt off over my head. “I might not last very long. Haven’t cum for two weeks.”

I laugh. “No problem.”

His fingers trail south, thumb flicking my clit as his fingers pump in and out of me as he grinds on my thigh.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” I moan out, eyes rolling back into my head. I’ve had plenty of time alone in our house with my toys when I missed Wilbur, but even just his fingers felt so much better than anything I could do myself.

Wilbur pulls his fingers out of me, sucking them into his mouth and sighing in pleasure.. “You always taste so good,” he whispers, sinking his rock-hard length into me. “But you feel even better wrapped around my cock.”

His first thrust makes us both groan, my back arching as I feel myself stretch around him. “You fill me up so well,” I pant. “You’re so big.”

I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him get a better angle and thrust into me deeper, his soft moans in my ear making everything between my thighs drip.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Wilbur whines.

“I love how vocal you’re being, it’s so hot,” I moan, tugging at his curls. He responds with another loud moan, tugging me up so my clit grinds into his lower stomach.

The urgency of his hips snapping up to thrust deeper and deeper, all the beautiful noises he’s making, and the fact he’s panting like a dog tells me he’s close to his own climax, and if we hadn’t been apart for over two weeks, I’d be making fun of him right about now for not even lasting five minutes.

My own orgasm hits me like a train, and I press my face into his shoulder as I ride it out. When I manage to come back to earth, the sight of WIlbur’s face as he’s right on the edge of finishing almost makes me cum again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cries out, and I feel him twitch inside me, spilling himself inside me before pulling out and releasing the rest on my stomach.

Before I can remind him that he’s just cum all over my stomach, he flops back down, all ready to cuddle. “I just came so hard and so much,” he murmurs happily. “I think my balls may be completely deflated.”

I burst out laughing. “You know you’re laying in some of it, right?”

He pushes himself off my chest to see I’m right. “Oh shit,” he laughs.

“You wait here, I’ll get us cleaned up,” I tell him. “I know you normally handle this, but you look like you’ve collapsed.”

After running some warm water over a towel and cleaning up the mess dripping down my thighs, I head back into our bedroom, kneeling on our bed next to Wilbur and gently cleaning him up.

“I love you so much, darling,” he murmurs, looking at me with soft admiration in his deep brown eyes. “You’re coming on the next tour. I can’t be apart for you for so long ever again.”

I lean in, hair brushing his bare chest as I plant a kiss on his forehead. “Even though we won’t be able to do this?”

“I’ll bribe everyone to leave us alone on the bus for a few hours whenever we’re in the mood,” he promises. “I’ll bring you out on stage every show and ask the fans to bring you gifts.”

“What kind of gifts?”

“Will?”

I smile down at my now-fast asleep boyfriend. “Goodnight to you too, I suppose.l

#princesswrites #wilbur soot smut #mcyt smut #dsmp smut #wilbur smut #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #simpbur smut #simpbur #princessfics

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lcvejoy · 11 months

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speak now

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.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot fic #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt #wilbur x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot angst

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

Text

—a text away

SUMMARY | in which you have a habit of blowing up wilburs phone

PAIRING | wilbur soot x reader

REQUESTED | no

WARNINGS | none

WORD COUNT | 1.2k+

AUTHORS NOTES | long distance fic. tagging @lyssys @zooone @beep-beep1

🍂 Masterlist 🍂 Navigation 🍂 Rules 🍂

Technology is everywhere these days.

It's the one thing that's almost impossible not to notice anymore. From the stoplights that direct traffic, to the earbuds nestled tight in pedestrians ears as they go about listening to music. Even our microwaves have been a product of humanities thirst for creation. Or maybe it was the thirst for power that spawned that one. You can never decipher the difference between the two these days.

But, you think your favorite bit of technology might be the ability to text your partner. Even when you're sat hundereds of miles away, watching as he livestreams.

"Alright chat—no. No that was not funny. I don't know why I even turned on media share."

Wilbur sat in his studio, cheek smushed up against his foam covered mic as he glanced at the speedy chat screen, looking for a coherent group to words to string together.

"I thought today was a chill day yeah?" He pretended to chastise the people on the other end of the screen, smiling as he went for a sip of water. A bit spilled from his mouth as he attempted to speak again, laughing it off before swallowing this time.

"No making fun of that. An—hold on! Yes it was a laugh, but we're not doing you laugh you lose. I already explained this. It's just a talking day. Don't—don't boo me you hooligans. I could end stream, do you want me to end stream?"

Sometimes being a twitch streamer, eyes constantly looking and expecting you to do something, or slip up, was enough to wear down everyone. Wilbur has had his fair share of bad days, a few of them ending in the thought of him ending streaming completely. But then there were moments like this that countered it, where the heckling didn't really feel like heckling and he could just be comfortable.

"Mods, I gonna need you to ban the next person who says babybur. I am not being a baby. This is—hey! This is not a tantrum! Ban them too!"

It was the times like these, where his face felt sore from smiling for so long, that he really appreciated being able to do what he did for a living. And the best part of it? He had met you along the way.

"No, (Y/n)'s not with me here today." Wilbur was quick to change the topic from everyone spamming babybur to his partner currently overseas. Chat always loved to pester him about you. Not like he cared. After finding out you were okay with him talking about you on stream, he found every excuse in the book to include you into each and every conversation he had, proudly boasting about how much he loves you.

"You guys want to see them again? Yeah, me too. Maybe if their okay with it next time their here, I'll bring em back on for a bit, yeah?" Wilbur already knew the answer before he had even asked it, watching as his chats speed broke the frame rate on his monitor after mentioning it.

A few more minutes of talking passed before he felt the days hours catching up to him. Normally he knew when he was getting tired enough to sign off, but this time it had taken his legs cramping up for him to take the hint.

"Chat I've got to go. And don't say five more minutes becuase the last time that happened you tricked me into staying for an hour more and I was late to a wedding." Wilbur began his wave at the screen, smiling warmly at his camera before clicking the end stream button.

Pushing his chair out, he was quick to stand up and stretch his legs. The office he worked in was great. Most of the time. It would be perfect if not for the fact he was just a little above the height average that the room seemed accustomed to holding.

"Bloody fuck." He sighed.

His phone was quick to be picked up. Wilbur liked to keep it a couple arms lengths away as he streamed. He had most of what he needed at his computer, and his insesent need for doom scrolling was sure to get in the way if he didn't limit himself while live.

However this did seem to get in the way of your equally peristant need for blowing up Wilburs phone like it was the last thing you would ever do.

The line only rung once on your end before you picked it up.

"Really darling?" That was the first thing you heard, your boyfriends warm chuckle following it shortly after. "Fourty eight messages? That's a new record for you."

"I missed you Wil. Plus I was watching this time from my computer. Chat was funny today." Your smile was audible to him, only resulting in him shaking his head with a laugh.

"You think so? All they talked about this entire time was a really sweet and adorable sounding person. Said they wanted to see them again soon. Couldn't recall their name though. Did you happen to catch it?" He teased you, sinking into his desk chair while wiping the edge of his fake glasses on his shirt.

"Did it happen to be (Y/n)." You answered with false curiosity.

"That's it!" Wilbur snapped his fingers even though you couldn't see him. "And honestly I think they're onto something. They sound amazing and I'd really like to see them. Preferably soon?"

You rolled your eyes. He always did this when you were on call. Well, he always did this anyways, not just on calls. You didn't like being away from him anymore than he did. But Wilbur had always been the more antsy one out of the two of you.

"Just a week more Wil and I'll be back at your flat in no time."

"Promise?"

"When have I ever lied to you love?"

"Well—" Wilbur cleared his throat. "—there was that time on Halloween when you said you were going to dress up with me, and when you lied about getting McDonald's without me, and don't even get me started on all the lies you said just to get that suprose party for me organized last year."

"Wow. You must be really proud of yourself for remembering all that Wil."

"I am, actually."

"Do you want a gold star."

"I know you're making fun of my but yes. Yes I would."

He listened as you laughed from the other end of the phone. He couldn't help falling in love with you. It was too perfect, the two of you. Like something out of his own songs. Wilbur wasn't one for the whole soulmates shtick, but he'd be damned if he said you were anything but that. His soulmate.

"I love you so much (Y/n)." He whispered. "And I hate I can't hold you right now. I hate that I can't kiss you and feel you in my arms."

Your laughing had ceased with a soft sigh. You knew what he meant and more. Too many a night you had laid awake, unable to sleep without the feeling of his hands around your waits and hoodie around your torso.

"I know Wil. Just seven more days and I'm all yours."

"Don't forget my gold star." It was quiet, but you still found yourself gently smiling.

"Seven more days, then me and that gold star are all yours."

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anarchy-and-piglins · 6 months

Text

The painful thing is that what saves the fledgling's life is that he looks like Wilbur.

Not when you give it more than a cursory look. Long pink hair, red eyes, a face so pale it reminds Phil of the morgues they visit for their investigations sometimes. The ones where a coroner swears they ended the day with one less corpse than they started with. All of those things are starkly different in this boy than they are in Phil's son.

And yet, for one fleeting moment when he entered the room and saw the teen cowering in the corner, he seemed so similar to Wilbur that it took Phil's breath away.

Something about the shape of his cheeks and nose, the lanky frame, or the way he folds his arms around himself in fright.

"Shit," Phil mutters to himself. Because there are no other words to describe the situation. Sometimes he has nightmares about one of his boys being turned. Comes with the territory really. You deal with the most fucked up creatures the darkness has made, and you start to fear losing yourself or a loved one the same way.

But Phil has a plan.

It's deranged, and dangerous, and he knows he could be killed by the other hunters for it. But years ago he already came up with what he would do, should the curse ever strike one of his sons.

Phil could never kill them.

And looking into the eyes of this fledgling, snarling and hissing and one second away from throwing himself at Phil's throat if it weren't for the silver cross Phil holds out in front of him, makes him feel so deeply that he can't kill him either.

"What the fuck!" Tommy gasps behind him when he enters the room. Phil doesn't know if he can see it too.

"Give me a muzzle," Phil says.

"What?" Tommy asks, taking a step back. "Dad, we need to kill it, we-" He's pulling out his bow, the tips made of that same metal that will burn any vampire to ash, soaked in garlic.

"Give me a muzzle," Phil repeats, firmer.

Tommy might be his son, but when they're on the job Phil is his superior. He is a senior hunter and Tommy is a fourteen-year-old in training, he will do as Phil says. Slowly - as if hoping he'll change his mind - Tommy unclips the leather muzzle from his belt. It's one made especially based on Phil's design, for the rare occasions they need to apprehend a vampire for interrogation rather than outright killing it. Taking it, he shoves the cross into Tommy's hands instead. He starts to walk toward the fledgling.

"It's okay," Phil says, getting ahead of Tommy's questions. And maybe also partly in the hopes of calming the fledgling down a bit. He won't be able to move with a strong source of holy silver so nearby. "He was very recently turned, no more than a day ago. And there's no sire."

A sire would never leave their fledgling alone like this. Maybe even more than looking like Wilbur, the fact that he was abandoned has saved this little one's life. Phil pulls a knife from his pocket, drawing it over his own wrist. Tommy gasps. Phil ignores it. He allows a small trickle of blood to flow into the frozen fledgling's mouth.

Phil watches as the teen swallows it automatically, licking at his own lips. How he tastes it and savors it and instinctually feels drawn to it. And then Phil watches as the fledgling's eyes catch his own.

The fledgling relaxes instantly, going pliant. He chuffs, looking for comfort.

"How did you do that?" Tommy asks, perplexed.

Reaching forward to slip the muzzle onto the fledgling just to be sure, Phil smiles, helping him stand up. The fledgling leans on him, clings to them.

"When they're this young, they need a sire to function," Phil says. "Somebody to feed them and keep them safe."

Nobody ever said that sire had to be another vampire.

"Let's go before somebody catches us," Phil says. "We need to bring him home."

#dark sbi #technoblade #shara writes

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mystic-writings · 5 months

Text

tangled up (in strings of emotion) | wilbur soot

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

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.”

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.

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.

forever taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality@mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

wilbur soot taglist: open!

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot angst #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

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haunted-headset · 5 months

Text

💜 Oh, Distant You. 💜

Summary: Tommy asked what happened between you two.

a/n: hello! i was in the mood to make a short angsty fic, so i present this to all of you! this was (obviously) based on "Oh Distant You"

contains: angst, a break-up with you & Wilbur, crying, flashbacks, cursing, a cliffhanger ending, mentions of presumed death, the reader is said to have had mental health issues in the past, & mentions of suicide.

words: 651

tags:@zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot @21-cats-in-a-trenchcoat @strangleetomz (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged)

[Wilbur's {3rd person} POV]

Tommy had invited Wilbur to his house for an "intervention". He'd been locking himself in his apartment for days without messaging or calling anybody, streaming, or going to the studio. The Lovejoy members called him & messaged him uncountable times, but he never responded. Some of his friends thought he had killed himself. Nobody had heard from Y/N, either; they were an active streamer, usually streaming twice or thrice a week, but they hadn't streamed for two weeks. Y/N wasn't on tour with their band, either, & hadn't announced a break, so it worried Y/N's followers & fans.

"What's going on with you?" Tommy asked him. "Nobody's heard from you or Y/N in a few weeks. Did you two have a secret wedding & a honeymoon without telling anybody?" While the light-hearted joke was obviously intended to make Wilbur feel better, it just made him feel worse.

"We broke up, Tommy," he murmured, covering his eyes with his hand.

"You what?" Tommy raised his brow, not hearing Wilbur correctly.

"We broke up, Tommy," Wilbur repeated, louder this time.

Tommy was shocked. "I thought everything was good between you two! Why did they dump you?"

"I dumped them, Tommy," Wilbur said shakily, holding back tears.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" Tommy asked.

"Because I'm an idiot, Tommy, that's why!" Wilbur shouted, removing his hand away from his now red & glossy eyes. "Because I'm an idiot who thought prioritizing my music & my career over them was the better option! & they could be dead right now, for all I know! Their mental state was terrible when I broke up with them, so for all I know, they could be hanging from a noose right now, dead as a motherfucking doorknob."

"Woah, woah, woah, Wil, take a breath," Tommy said, his eyes wide from how Wilbur reacted. "Tell me what happened."

"I just--I got in over my head & started panicking & being an anxious idiot like how I was when I was a kid & I thought that my career & my band needed to be prioritized over them," Wilbur explained shakily.

"Why did you think that?" Tommy asked.

"Because I thought my career was better than them," he said softly.

"Is your career better than being with them?" Tommy asked, his eyebrows raised slightly.

"God, no, Tommy," Wilbur said with a catch in his throat. "I hate the way I talk when I'm trying to compliment or praise them because it'll never give off the praised esteem they have. They're two stars from grace & I'm convinced that this world turns for them & nobody else." He paused. "No offense, Tommy."

"Were you looking for somebody better or--" Tommy started.

"If the Lord or the universe or whoever fucking controls everything were to whip up a clone of them," said Wilbur, "I wouldn't even glance at it, so, no, Tommy. & if I did date that clone, I'd have to take a month off work & everything to sit down in the kitchen, & explain all our in-jokes, & cry with them to Wall-E, & still, I'd fuckin' miss Y/N."

"So you regret it all?" Tommy asked.

"Of course I do!" he exclaimed. "I thought I was creating the solution to their problems, that I was being the fix-all, but I was just the villain. & every single modicum of energy that I gave to all the little things compounded all my placidity, & I drove out all the good things & made life so fuckin' heavy, & now I can't wake up & talk to them." He was crying at this point, having to pause a few times to calm himself down.

Tommy held his phone up & pointed at the screen. He was on a call. He was on call with Y/N. He had been this whole time.

"Hi, Wilbur."

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joelswritingmistress · 4 months

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You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 41

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

James parked his car right at the spot where he’d last been able to see the figure walking on the security footage from the night of the last murder. He'd sat there for a moment trying to put himself into the person’s shoes.

Would he have parked his car close? Was his residence within walking distance? Did he go out for a late night pizza at the lone store that stayed open after hours for the drunken, munchie-driven calls from college kids? Maybe a drink at the bar?

A drink. Someone would certainly need a drink to calm their nerves after murdering someone. Wouldn't they?

James got out of his vehicle and began to walk the sidewalk. He put his hands into the pockets of his jacket and mirrored the posture of the stranger.

O’Malley’s was first. It would make sense. And so James entered the establishment, starting there.

A short, aging man with alcohol miles plaguing the saggy skin under his bright blue eyes turned and ran a hand over his stark-white beard. He noted James’s attire and made a face, asking blandly. “What can I do for ya officer?”

“Good afternoon,” James started with a nod. He glanced over at the row of regulars, all carbon copies of the bartender, who were staring at him as if to say, ‘what the hell do you want’?

“Do you have security cameras that view the street?” He asked after a brief pause.

The row of old men turned to the bartender in unison, awaiting his answer. He huffed a little laugh and began wiping down the top of the bar.

“That all depends on what you're lookin’ for.”

“Looking to catch the Lady Killer,” James said honesty, prompting everyone to stop and look back in his direction.

“That bastard killing all them college girls?” The frailest of the men asked, extending a wrinkled finger.

James nodded. “That's right. On the night of the last murder I have reason to believe he left campus and rounded onto Bank Street. Lost sight of him on our cameras after that.”

The bartender put his hands flat on the bar and stared at him directly. “Well if ya already got him on camera, what do you need ours for?”

The heads all turned again, a willing audience to the conversation at hand.

“I couldn't make out who he was,” James explained. “Just a dark silhouette.” He whipped out his phone and extended his arm across the way to show the man the picture he'd taken of the figure beneath the light. “That's all I got. I figured if he rounded that corner,” James motioned to the small screen, “That O’Malley’s is next. Maybe he even stopped in for a drink.”

The bartender looked back up with more interest.

“You remember anyone in here the night of February 18th that doesn't normally come here? Some time late into the night, probably near closing time.” James glanced around at everyone present. He assumed they were probably there most nights.

“Always some odds and ends,” the bartender explained. “Lots of regulars, lots of college kids, lots of in betweeners.”

James nodded. “If anyone comes to mind,” he slid a card across the table with his name and number on it, “Let me know.”

“You know,” the same frail old man spoke, “There was a fella who dropped in that night. Sat alone. Shaky hands.” He gently hit the man next to him, “Wilbur you remember? We thought he was balancing out some caffeine kick with a little bit of grandpa’s cough medicine.”

“What did he look like?” James asked.

“Had a ball cap on,” Wilbur explained.

“Yankees,” the first man added. “And a hood. It zipped up. Had some words across the front.”

“What did the words say?”

“I can't even remember what I had for lunch,” he gave a laugh.

“Old? Young?”

“Younger than us but older than you.”

“What did he order?”

“Damned if I know,” he said raising his arms, “I said I noticed him, I wasn't trying to take him home.”

The row of men laughed in unison.

“Thanks.” James nodded again and then looked back across the bar. “So.. about those security tapes..”

…

I walked back down the hallway after the incredible spa day. There were only a few hours until the rehearsal dinner and I felt perfectly content. My body was relaxed, my toes were freshly painted and laughing with a bunch of women all day was like chicken soup for the soul.

When I entered the hotel room, finding it vacant, I took a few moments to myself. I wandered onto the balcony and glanced out at the slopes. Being on a ski resort, in what typically felt like the gloom and doom of winter, made the month of February feel all the more brighter. The dead, cold world felt alive here.

I huffed a smokey breath and went back inside and turned on the water to the shower. Almost immediately u got lost in the steam and my thoughts. Like the weekend before, I didn't want to return home. I wanted to stay in that lively place until spring thawed everything out.

It's not so bad back at the castle, I reminded myself. Being with Dr. Miller was such a treat in itself. That made me smile to myself.

Joel Miller. My professor. The man I fell for without even realizing it until the feeling swallowed me whole. I couldn't imagine my life without him now that he was the focal point of it. It felt like it had been years since I had been in my old bedroom in the little house with Tori - but in reality it hadn't been that long.

I closed my eyes and pictured him. His smile. His voice. The feel of his lips against mine. The warmth of his body. The squeeze of his fingers when our hands were entwined.

Right when I really started wishing him back to our room, I heard the bathroom door creak and then the shower door opened. I jumped only for a second before I recognized it was Dr. Miller. My wish had come true. It was my only wish, really. To be with him.

He pulled me by the hand to him and our lips locked without saying a word as the shower door closed. With my eyes closed I could hear Dr. Miller breathing steadily through his nose above the sound of the water.

“I missed you all day,” he whispered before diving in to kiss me again.

My arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. “I missed you too.” I had. I knew the early phase of a relationship had the ability to feel intense and clingy, but it was magnified for us. And I could use the phrase us with confidence. Dr. Miller was as possessive as I was.

Dr. Miller’s lips parted from mine and then he pecked them again as he reached for the soap. “Turn around,” he said quietly.

I swallowed hard and did as he asked, closing my eyes as he began to draw sudsy circles across my shoulder blades. I let out a deep exhale.

Dr. Miller snaked the bar of soap around, penetrating my breasts before trailing down my midsection. I reached a hand up behind me, gently pulling at the back of his head as he dipped his lips down to neck.

I allowed him to lather up my entire body and watch the soap stream off me into white, bubbly pools by the drain. And then I held a hand out, prompting Dr. Miller to hand over the bar of soap. He gave a barely-there smirk before I eagerly began to return the favor, gently soaping up the top of his chest.

I could tell when he didn't have it in him to hold back anymore after touching him for so long. Dr. Miller topped my hand with his and removed the soap, placing it back on one of the ledges and then pulled me back into a smoldering kiss.

I took the lead and reached a hand down to touch him. Dr. Miller moaned into my mouth and kissed me harder.

He let his hand drop to my hip and pulled up at the back of my thigh. I instinctively let me knee raise high up toward his hip as he lined up at my entrance.

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller still held the back of my leg up and kneaded my breast with the other hand as we continued to kiss. I felt my back hit the cool tiles and I let out a gasping breath.

“I love you,” I said quietly against his lips. Part of me kind of hated saying it at such a cliche time but I couldn't help myself.

Dr. Miller ran his hand up my chest, past my neck to the side of my face. “I love you, too,” he let out a deep breath, “And for the rest of this weekend you're all mine.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

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loversj0y · 8 months

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three drunk nights.

wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: lots of drinking and alcohol, alcohol is used as a coping mechanism (dont do this), slightly suggestive content, vomiting, jokes about vomiting, lots of pining, drunk kisses n drunk confessions

word count: 8.8k (specifically 8888 words)

note: MAR IS FINALLY POSTING WHO CHEERREEDDDDDD this fic was a tiny idea that i discussed a bit with a friend and then it just absolutely spiraled into this. this is also probably the most suggestive thing i will ever write (it's not that suggestive, i am just anxious so i actually had to ask someone if one of the lines was too suggestive so-) anyway. hope you enjoy! big thank you to everyone who chatted with me about this fic and helped me brainrot over this concept so i could actually stay motivated

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @corequeen / @zooone / @melunnek / @shubblelive

When you moved to Brighton, you knew you would have to find a roommate. Rent was expensive, and your salary wouldn’t be nearly enough to live alone. You didn’t expect your roommate to end up being Wilbur Soot. You didn’t know who he was when you met him, he just seemed like a kind guy looking for a new roommate. You were a bit wary at first, when you’d only communicated over texts after seeing ads in a coffee shop, but after meeting him, you felt okay to move in. He was a genuinely nice guy, and not only did he make you feel safe, the two of you ended up getting pretty close quite quickly. It helped that he was funny and kind and had the most gorgeous eyes you’d ever seen.

You couldn’t deny just how attractive you found your roommate. Even when you first met him, you thought he was quite fit, but you made an agreement with yourself that you wouldn’t catch feelings. You needed a place to live more than another ruined relationship under your belt.

Your heart didn’t quite agree. Within the first three weeks of living together, you’d become entranced by him, a crush that took over your body and soul. Every time you looked at him, it brought a grin across your face, and every time he looked at you, it had a wine flush rising to your cheeks.

Regardless, you wouldn’t act on it. As overwhelming as it was, you couldn’t risk it. Wilbur is always home, so it makes it kind of hard to escape him, but at least when he’d stream, you could have time alone without having to worry about acting like a fool.

Today was like that. When you got home from work, you could faintly hear the sound of Wilbur talking and yelling in his room, and you smiled at the sound. You changed out of your uniform foremost, grabbing some headphones as you walked into the kitchen. You used the headphones to play music, not wanting to risk disturbing Wilbur. Instead, you started making some dinner. Just something simple and easy, and you made a portion for Wilbur too. Even if he’d already eaten, you could at least save it for lunch tomorrow. You finally had a day off, and you were so incredibly excited to do nothing except lay in bed for hours. The cooking was calming too, allowing you to unwind from a stressful day. And speaking of unwinding from a stressful day, you grabbed a wine glass and poured yourself a quick glass, humming along to the song playing in your headphones. You drank and cooked at the same time, until your pasta was done, and you started preparing yourself a plate. You prepared a plate for Wilbur as well, setting it in the microwave to stay warm. You grabbed your glass of wine first, and as you went to reach for your plate, you yelped and jumped as you felt a hand on your shoulder, splashing wine across your shirt.

You pulled your headphones off, turning quickly to see Wilbur, chuckling softly.

“Sorry, I called out, didn’t realise you didn’t hear me over the headphones.” He smiled softly, then frowned when he saw your shirt, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump.”

You shook your head softly, “It’s alright. Didn’t realise you were done already,” you hummed, grabbing a napkin even though you knew your shirt would need a lot more than just that. “I made you some pasta too. It’s in the microwave, I didn’t want it to get cold.”

He smiled fondly, humming, “Thanks.” He reached for his plate, and you walked to your room to change quickly. “Did work go well?” He called out as he sat down on the couch.

“Eh, it was fine,” you called back to him. “How was your stream?” You asked, walking back into the room to pour yourself another glass of wine before eating.

“It went well. Just did some Geoguessr.”

You nodded, sitting next to him on the couch as you began eating. You grabbed the remote, tossing it to him.

He chuckled and took it, putting on some random YouTube videos for you to watch while you ate. Most of the meal was silent, occasional quips in between videos being the most spoken until you finished your food. You washed your plate quickly, knowing you’d be annoyed if you left it for tomorrow. Wilbur did the same after, humming as he looked around the cupboards.

“You’re off tomorrow right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, why?”

“You want a drink?” He hummed, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cupboard. You thought about it. It’d been a while since you drank anything, and it’s not like you had any obligations tomorrow anyway, so…

“Sure,” you hummed, “Just use a mixer. You are not getting me to drink anything straight ever again.”

He rolled his eyes, “That was one time.”

“One time that resulted in me throwing up in a parking lot,” you remind him. He chuckles, starting to pour the drinks, “And now you have a very fun night out story to tell people.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, “Yes, and I’d like to keep the number of those stories at one.”

He hummed a bit, shrugging as he handed you a drink, “We’ll see. Cheers.” You tapped your glass against his, taking a quick sip.

“Wow, for once? It actually tastes drinkable.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes, “I know what I’m doing.” He grinned, and you followed him over to the couch, sitting down next to him.

As the drinks flowed, so did words and stories from both your lips as you sat next to each other, the TV having been forgotten in respect to the far more interesting view in front of you. Wilbur’s cheeks were dusted in pink from the alcohol, and you were almost certain that yours matched. Though it wasn’t just the alcohol in your case.

“Have you ever really been in love?” He’d asked a few minutes ago, and it brought on a whole conversation about past love.

It’s not like your case was tragic. It just wasn’t exactly the most loving either.

“Honestly? My ex was the most boring person you’d ever meet. Even now, it’s been almost two years since he and I were together, right?” You chuckled softly, “I couldn’t tell you a single thing about his personality. He wasn’t even interested in anything. And it’s not like he was mean or anything, the relationship was fine, but he barely even kissed me. Like if it’s been about two years since before we broke up, it’s probably been like two and a half since I’ve last been kissed.” You laughed, finding amusement in it, as morbid as that seemed.

“Really?” He asked, “Even when me and my ex broke up, we’d still at least been kissing by that point. Granted, that was only a few months ago, but still.”

“I’m serious, it was,” you hummed, “it was something to say the least. Truthfully, I question if maybe I’m just a shit kisser or something. Sometimes I wonder if I’d even remember how to kiss someone at this point.”

He tilted his head a bit, “Hm, I doubt you’d be a bad kisser. Have you ever- like- practised with someone? So they can tell you?”

You snorted, almost choking on your drink, “God, no, I, never,” your cheeks flamed as you shook your head. “Never was really close enough to anyone to do that, I guess.”

He was silent for a quick moment, “Would you?”

The bright blush on your cheeks didn’t falter as you spoke, “I’m not sure, uhm, it depends on who it is and-”

“Me.” He hummed, a grin on his face. “If you wanted to practise, and I offered, would you?”

This was incredibly dangerous territory for your brain. The logical part of you probably would’ve ended the conversation, switching topics onto something you felt that you could discuss safely without your heart trying to overtake it. But honestly, before you could even consider the consequences, the alcohol had knocked down the filter in your brain, leading to your easy response of, “Yeah.”

That brought a slight blush to Wilbur’s cheeks, and god, you didn’t even have the words to describe how gorgeous he looked right now with his tousled hair, loose striped shirt giving you a peek at his collarbone, and the alluring pink that covered his cheeks. He set his drink down, though the glass was empty anyway, and he shifted a bit closer to you.

“Do you want to practise? I can give you a thorough review.” Despite his big words, his blushing was just as bad as yours.

You should say no. This is probably a bad idea. It’s a terrible fucking idea. It’s a bad idea.

“Yeah.”

Wilbur didn’t hesitate, his hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. It was soft for about half a second. Then it was passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck and gasping into the kiss. One hand moved down to your lower back, holding you close as the kiss deepened. After a moment, he pulls away, panting.

“You’re definitely not a bad kisser.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, pulling you in for another heavy kiss, warmth radiating through you. You knew nothing would escalate past this, but you didn’t even want it to. The way he kissed you had you reeling, gasping into his mouth as he held you close. You ran a hand up, tugging at the ends of his hair and making him groan against your lips. The sound was melodic, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. God, you knew it was wrong. You were so fucking in love with this man, and you were both drunk, and he was just doing this as a bit of a favor. But fuck, you were going to allow yourself to indulge this once. This was probably going to be the only time you ever got to kiss him, and you knew tomorrow the both of you would pretend this never happened.

Your prediction was correct. The next day, when you finally rose from bed with a brain-splitting headache, Wilbur was standing in the kitchen. Neither of you brought up the kiss and things went on, business as usual. You didn’t regret the kiss, per se. However, it definitely made your heart heavier whenever you saw Wilbur. The kiss was something you’d never recover from, but you had to try.

You devised a plan. Maybe you just needed to meet someone new. Someone to get your mind off Wilbur. And what better place to find a person who will most definitely be a mistake than a pub. While you were planning to go alone, Wilbur had seen you getting ready and asked where you were going. You could’ve lied. Call you weak, but when he looked at you with those soft eyes and gentle grin, you just couldn’t.

“The pub,” you answered simply, “Do I look alright?”

He took a moment to look over your outfit and nodded, “Yeah, looks good. I’ll get dressed, and I could join too? If- if you want, I mean-” he stuttered a bit, not wanting to impose.

You should’ve said no. But you were just so weak to him, “Yeah, sure. That’s fine. You can invite whoever too.”

He nodded, “I’ll see if Toms and his girlfriend want to join, yeah?”

You nodded again, humming softly. He walked to his room, presumably to change, and you fucking prayed that Tommy and Molly would be joining. You didn’t think you’d be able to go an entire evening of drinking alone with Wilbur without making some sort of mistake. You pulled on a coat, grabbing a sip of water before you left, trying to prevent another morning of groaning in pain and shut curtains. Wilbur walked back out from his room, and you mentally cursed yourself for just how good he looked. His black button up that he left just slightly unbuttoned at the top had your mind reeling, and you quickly shifted your eyes away. Tonight was not the night for thoughts like those; you were trying to get over him.

“Tommy said they’ll meet us there, sound good?” He asked as he grabbed his wallet.

Thank god. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He held the door open for you to walk out, and you paused to let him lock the door to your flat.

“Any reason you wanted to go out tonight?”

“Not really,” you hummed, walking side by side with him. “Just felt the urge to get out of the house, I guess.”

He nodded, “Oh, yeah, I suppose neither of us really get out that much.”

“You get out less than I do. I’m shocked you even go into the sun anymore, you vampire.”

He laughed, head tilting back with a grin, “I’m not that pale. And I don’t bite, I just look like I do.”

The bump on your lip last week begged to differ.

“You do look like you would. What’s the opposite of an ankle biter? Because you’re too tall for that. Maybe a scalp biter.”

He snorted, “Careful, tease me too much and maybe I’ll stoop to that level.”

God. You knew it was meant as an innocent joke, but fuck, you were too sober for this.

You gave a half-hearted chuckle, “Right, mmhm. Not my fault you’re just that tall.”

He rolled his eyes, placing his arm onto your head, “You’re just mad you need help grabbing things off the top shelves.”

“Listen, they just shouldn’t make things unreasonably tall. You are an outlier here.” You moved your head from under his arm, huffing.

“Mmhm, console yourself however you please.”

The walk felt pretty short between all of your shared joking, and you had to continuously remind yourself that you were trying to get over him, not fall further in love. When you two arrived, you were thankful that Tommy and Molly were already there, at least allowing you to have some semblance of a mental break from his stupid, gorgeous face and mind. You shared a quick hello, sitting across from Molly, and taking a moment to look around and scope out the place. You were focused on trying to see if there was anyone that interested you when Wilbur nudged your arm.

“I’m going to grab a drink, you want anything?”

You hummed, nodding, “Rum and coke. A double.”

He raised an eyebrow, then chuckled, “Alright. Sure.”

He walked to the bar, and you let out a soft sigh. You felt bad being so relieved that he walked away, but there was a certain level of stress associated with being around him and hiding your feelings. You met knowing eyes from Molly, and you huffed, looking away.

“Soo, how’ve you been?” She asked, and you could sense the undertones there.

“Fine. Hoping to find someone tonight. You know how it is.”

Molly nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. Tommy was none-the-wiser to the secret conversation you and Molly had, speaking up, “Oh, yes, I definitely know how it is. Ah, young love, young love. Sometimes, you know, young love is right under our noses.” He poked at his nose, pushing it up to accentuate his point.

You nodded slowly, “Right. Well. It’s been long enough, I think. About time to get back out there.”

Tommy seemed hesitant to this, “I doubt people here will be the best pick.”

“Probably not, but it’s pretty good practise, right? Flirting with strangers?”

“Sure. I mean, I flirted with so many women to be ready to flirt with Molly.”

You snorted, “Sure, Tommy. How many women did you flirt with, then?”

“Tommy?” Wilbur spoke up, having returned with your drink and his own, “None. Tommy doesn’t know how to flirt.”

Tommy gasped, “I do know how to flirt! You don’t! I have given you so many tips, Wilbur, and which one of us is in a relationship? Not you!”

Wilbur was laughing, rolling his eyes in response to Tommy’s annoyed griping, “Sure, Tommy. And how many times have you tried to get Phil and Kristin to divorce?”

Tommy went to respond, but he was stumped by Wilbur nonetheless.

Drinks and stories had been shared, you and Wilbur both feeling the familiar warmth of drunkness coming over you. It’d been almost two hours, and you still hadn’t even spoken to a single new person. You knew you’d lose your chance soon, and thankfully, you had a convenient way to slip away from the table.

“I’m going to use the bathroom and grab another drink, any of you want one?”

Molly and Tommy turned you down, but Wilbur was quick to ask for another drink with a grin that made your knees weak. You nodded, heading straight for the bar. You didn’t actually need to use the bathroom; you simply wanted an excuse to be gone for a bit longer.

You walked to the bar, standing there alone for a moment, both to get used to the drunken perspective and to scope out any prospective flirts. It didn’t take long.

The man next to you was tall (not as tall as Wilbur), with slightly wavy brown hair (not as soft looking as Wilbur’s), and hazel eyes (not as gorgeous and deep as Wilbur’s). The important part about him was the look he gave you; not quite undressing you with his eyes, but not innocent either. A haunting middle ground for you to discover what would likely become a mistake.

“Well, hey there,” he grinned, turning his body towards you, “You look like you could use a drink.”

You ignored the fact that you knew you looked and felt plastered already, letting a giggle pass from your lips, “And so what if I do?”

He smirked, turning to the bartender and ordering for you. A vodka cranberry. The drink seemed to reflect the man as well; basic and not the best choice, but at least a consistent one. You could always trust a man to be consistent in his ways, at least.

He handed the drink to you, and you took it with a smile, taking a sip, “Well, why thank you.” You chuckled, causing a laugh to bubble slightly from him.

“So, what’s a pretty person like you doing alone in a bar like this?”

You weren’t alone, and you were the exact reason men like this went to a pub like this. You held your tongue, “Looking for something new, I suppose.”

“Oh? A lost soul, then,” he grinned, taking a sip from his pint, “I can respect that. I think all of us are lost in some way.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I think the society we live in makes us feel lost. Always searching for something new. You know, I read this article-“ you tuned the rest of his sentence out, watching his lips move and nodding in key occasionally.

“That’s really interesting,” you hummed after he finished, “So, what are you doing here then?”

He chuckled, and you could feel a weird response coming on, “Anything. Seeing where the wind takes me. Finding some action, maybe, if that’s what’s decided for me tonight.”

You wanted to rip your hair out. “And if that is what the universe has decided for you?”

He smirked, and it did nothing for you, unlike the butterflies in your chest when Wilbur did the same. He brought a hand to your hip, “Well, guess it’s just my lucky day, then. If the universe presents me with an opportunity, who am I to turn it down?”

“You big on fate then?”

“Sure,” he nodded, “I find that fate is one of the most interesting things in life. The way it brings people into our lives. It’s fascinating.”

You drank about half of your drink before responding. “Yeah, it is. It defines things in your life before you even have a chance to know them.” You didn’t even believe that. You hated the idea that your life could be predetermined and decided by some other force and leave you no opportunity to change anything.

“God, yeah, it’s amazing,” he spoke, his hand wrapping a bit closer to you, “I’m not sure anyone’s told you, but you’re really smart. Smart and pretty.”

Wilbur had told you that. Probably a million times now, calling you a genius simply for being able to reset your wifi router. But you didn’t want to think about Wilbur now.

You allowed the alcoholic flush on your cheeks to be mistaken for a blush, smiling with faux-shyness, “Wow, thank you.”

“Yeah, you know, a lot of guys don’t see the beauty of a beautiful mind, but I think it’s the best quality, to not be an airhead like most people here are.”

You wanted to slam your head against the wall. Instead, someone slammed into you from behind, pushing you forward into the guy’s arms. Your hand came up to rest on his arm, craning your head up to look at him, resisting the urge to glare at the person behind you. At least from this angle, you could pretend the man you were speaking to was cuter than he actually was.

He chuckled, holding you up against him, sighing, “God, some people really are dicks.” One hand came to your chin, and you hummed.

“Yeah, at least you’re not.” You smiled softly. You had to at least act like you weren’t in love with someone else for this to hopefully work. You let your hand raise further up to his shoulder, eventually resting in the cusp between his shoulder and neck. You leaned in a bit closer, ready to spur some flirtatious line about how his lips taste when you were being yanked away.

You stumbled, only gaining footing when you were pulled outside, coming face-to-face with a pissed Wilbur.

“Will? What the fuck is your problem?”

“Oh, my problem?” Wilbur chuckled bitterly. His words were slurred slightly, not unlike yours. He pinched his eyebrows together, scoffing softly, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You gave him an incredulous look, arms crossing, “I was talking to someone, Wilbur, is that a fucking problem?”

“Oh, sure, you can call it talking all you want. You were throwing yourself at him.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You’re- you’re pissed because I was flirting with someone?”

“That wasn’t flirting, you were about to fucking make out with him! You don’t know him, I’m trying to look out for you!”

“Wilbur, you’re acting like I was begging him to fuck me or some shit, I was just flirting! He seemed like a nice guy, God forbid I try to actually find a relationship for once!” You felt insane having to defend flirting with a stranger to a man you not only loved, but just a few weeks ago spent hours making out on your couch. You tried not to think on it much.

“You cannot possibly think that was safe! You have no clue if he’s actually a nice guy!”

“Oh, I have no clue if he was a nice guy?”

“Yeah, you, he could’ve been a total prick, and you were basically crawling into his lap, begging him to kiss you!”

“For fuck’s sake, Wilbur, don’t act all high and fucking mighty about this, need I remind you, you’re the only who made out with me!”

“Yeah, and I’m not the one going off and throwing myself across the lap of the first person to buy me a drink!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You scoffed. You were aware of people staring at the two of you. You were outside and weren’t exactly quiet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “If that’s what you think about me, I may as well just go back in there and make out with him right there! At least then I’ll be matching whatever fucking description of me you have in your mind.”

“You know what? Fine! Knock yourself out! Serves me right for trying to keep my best friend safe, just don’t come crawling back to me when he breaks your heart or leaves you drunk and stranded!”

You groaned in annoyance, watching as he walked away, leaving you in front of the bar.

“Fuck you, dickhead!” You yelled after him, and he didn’t respond, just kept walking.

You panted, yelling out in frustration into the cool night. You kicked the brick of the wall, whimpering in pain afterwards. You turned and sat on the ground, leaning your back against the wall as you just breathed.

You focused on breathing until you could focus on the lights around you, signs illuminated by fluorescent street lamps. You willed away the tears that blurred the words. The argument was sobering, to say the least, every aspect of a hangover hitting you all at once now that you sat against the cool brick. Fuck. You felt miserable, both from the sobering feeling and the fact that your best friend and roommate currently seemed to fucking hate you. And the worst part is you didn’t even get why! Like, yes, you were being reckless, you can attest to that, but you’ve been reckless before. He’s been reckless with you. With your heart. You can’t blame him for that; he had no way of knowing how horribly in love with him you were.

The worst part was that it didn’t even work. Flirting with a stranger only brought you greater reminders of how in love with Wilbur you were. Fighting with Wilbur only made you worry that you’d never get over him. You should hate him right now. He said horrible fucking things; he was a prick, an asshole, a dickhead. There weren’t enough swears to properly convey just how mean he’d been. In the morning, you’d give him more sympathy for being drunk and not having enough of a filter to process what he was saying. But in this moment, you gave him no sympathy, and you still felt like you would tear your heart out and hand it to him if he asked.

Everything sucked. You were cold, shaking from anger, exhausted, and just downright fucking sad. Usually when you were upset like this, you’d just go to Wilbur for some cheering up, but you’d be damned before you faced him again tonight. Which left you two options. Either staying out until Wilbur was hopefully asleep or asking Tommy if you could crash at his. Knowing Wilbur, he wouldn’t be asleep until three or four at the most.

You didn’t want to go back inside. Didn’t want to face the stranger you’d flirted with, have to entertain another conversation that would lead nowhere. You would just wait. You’d sit here and close your eyes and just wait until Tommy and Molly came out.

“-y? Y/N?” You felt yourself being shaken slightly, eyes opening blearily.

Tommy was crouched in front of you, one hand on your arm.

“Oh, shit,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes softly. It was still dark, and you could still see the same couple Wilbur passed at the end of the corner when he’d left, so it couldn’t have been much later. “Must’ve drifted off, I guess.”

Tommy frowned, looking around. “Have you just been alone out here? Where’d Wilbur go?”

“We got into a fight,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, “Uh, would it be possible to crash on your couch tonight? I’d rather not face Wilbur again tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he frowns softly, “Do you want to head there now, or do you need us to sit with you for a moment?”

You shake your head and sigh, “I’d rather head there now.” You stood up slowly, Molly coming to help you up as well.

“Was it a bad fight then? He said he was just going to check on you,” she asked softly, Tommy starting to lead the way back to his apartment.

“It was… rough. Think he hates me,” you admitted in a soft voice, and she frowned, rubbing your back gently.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. Wilbur’s just a little bitch,” Tommy sighed, and you could hear a mixture of disappointment and fondness in his voice.

You didn’t respond, and the topic dropped.

When you woke up in the morning, it was with the groan of a headache and a sore back. Tommy’s couch wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was bad enough to have you holding your back as you slowly sat up. The sunlight streaming in through the blinds made you wish that you had sunglasses, or some form of lightswitch to just shut the sun off. You grabbed your phone, sighing as you unlocked it. There were probably a hundred texts just from Wilbur, along with a few missed calls from the morning. As you scrolled and started reading the texts, another call came through. You huffed, setting your phone down and letting the call ring out.

“It’s been doing that all morning,” Molly hummed, emerging from the kitchen. She set a mug in front of you, and you took it thankfully.

“And here I was hoping to forget last night,” you chuckled bitterly.

She sighed, “He won’t let that happen. He feels like shit. He was on call with Tom for like an hour. Probably just got off, if anything.”

“Did he tell him I was here?”

“No,” she chuckled, “I wouldn’t let him. Figured you’d be too hungover to actually be able to handle that.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, “You wouldn’t happen to have painkillers, do you?”

She nodded, standing and coming back with a small bottle in her hand. You took it from her gratefully, taking two and setting the bottle back on the table.

Tommy walked out, smiling a bit, “Well, I finally got Wilbur to calm down a bit. He knows your safe, but he’ll probably keep texting you until he heads to his office.”

You nodded, opening your phone and turning on Do Not Disturb, “Do you know when he’ll get to the office?”

Tommy shook his head, “Not sure. He won’t stream until later for sure, if he does, but I know he had editing to deal with and some band stuff.”

“Isn’t that stuff he could do from home?” “Possibly? Can’t say for sure.”

You nodded, sighing softly. You wanted to go home, take a shower and eat the pint of ice cream you had in the back of the freezer. “Is there anyway you can get him out of the apartment so I can sneak back in?”

Tommy frowned, “That bad?”

“I just don’t think I can do it today. I can talk to him tomorrow, but today is too much.”

Tommy nodded, “I can text him, see if he wants to get coffee or something?”

“Please, if you can.”

Tommy grabbed his phone, calling Wilbur.

“Hey, Will, any updates?” He asked, giving an overexaggerated wink to you and Molly. Molly stifled a laugh, and you gave a bit of a smile. You couldn’t quite make out what Wilbur was saying, but Tommy was responding a moment later.

“Well, I’m sure they’ll respond soon. They’re probably still asleep, mate. You might need a distraction.”

A chuckle, and a nervous glance towards you and Molly.

“Yeah, no, I just mean like, we could grab coffee or something. A little pick me up since you’re all upset.”

Tommy listened closely for a moment then seemed to relax, giving you a thumbs up. You relaxed and stood, letting him finish the conversation while you went to splash some water on your face. God, you looked fucking rough. You ran your hands through your hair to try and fix it up a bit, though there wasn’t much of a success there. You used cool water to try and lessen the bloat of your cheeks, sighing when you didn’t have much of progress there either.

You sighed, walking back out of the bathroom. Tommy was stood up, pulling his shoes on.

“Molly and I are going to head there, and we’ll text you whenever he’s there. My spare is under the mat, so just lock the door and put the key back once you’re done, alright?”

You nodded, “Thanks again, Tommy.”

He nodded, “it’s no problem. Try and talk to him when you can, alright? He’s genuinely upset over whatever happened.” “I will.”

You did not end up talking to Wilbur. Not that day nor the day after. Every time you thought about it, you just felt sick to your stomach. You snuck in the apartment with Tommy’s help, using the time he was out of the apartment to grab some food to keep in your room, and then you just used your room like a shelter. You heard Wilbur come back. You knew that he knew you got home: your shoes were left by the door and your keys hung up on the rack. But he didn’t try to say anything.

Until the day after. He was usually asleep when you left for work, and you assumed the same was true that day. After you came back from work, you snuck past his room, moving quickly to your own in case he heard. An hour after, you heard him knocking on your door, quietly asking if you were there.

You didn’t answer.

The next two days were a complete repeat. Sneaking out, avoiding him when you got back, ignoring him when he tried to talk. You don’t even know why you were so against talking to him. You wanted to fix it; you couldn’t stand living like this, and you wanted your best friend back. It hurt, though, because every time you thought about him, you thought about the fight. He was a bit drunk, and he always was a bit loose-lipped when drunk, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around why. Why he said those things, why he cared so much about some harmless flirting. You know he didn’t actually think you were someone who slept around or something, but it hurt nonetheless. You were banging your head against a wall trying to understand why he said those things, and it had you grasping at straws, questioning if you two were as close as you thought. You honestly just didn’t know what to think.

You needed to get out of the apartment. You felt a knot in your throat at the idea of going there. So you didn’t.

After work, you just went to the pub. It was the same one from that night, but you just sat at the bar and drank a bit, trying to get your mind off… everything. Your head was swirling with thoughts about the fight, about how much you love Wilbur, about how much you thought he hated you. You didn’t keep track of how much you were drinking. You didn’t feel it at first either. Not until you could barely keep your head up, words slurred as you closed your tab. You stood up, stumbling over your own feet and falling directly into a familiar friend.

“Y/N?” Tommy asked, holding your arms to steady you.

You smiled, blinking a bit as your eyes focused on him, “‘ey, Toms, w’as up?”

His face was full of concern. You found it funny, giggling to yourself as he spoke, “Are you alright?”

You gave him a thumbs up, giggling out, “Mmhm, I’m fuckin’ fantastic.”

“You are fucked, mate, where’s Wilbur?”

You pouted a bit, “He’s at home, like a loser. Di’n’t wanna be invitin’ him for our first conversation since- yeah.”

Tommy’s eyes widened a bit, and he sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair, “Alright, stay here. I’m gonna tell my mates something, and then I’ll be right back, okay? Have you drank water?”

You shook your head, and he nodded again, walking up to the bar where you’d just been and ordering a water.

“Wait for the water for me, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nodded, and he walked away quickly. You turned back towards the bar, waiting patiently, oh so patiently, for the water Tommy had ordered. You could understand why he seemed concerned, but it didn’t really cut through the haze in your mind. You were fine. You couldn’t see straight or stand straight, but you were fine. Everything was so, so perfectly fine. The bartender gave you the water, and you took it, holding it carefully for Tommy. He’s such a nice person, he deserved nice things. When he came back, he took your arm, guiding you outside.

“Here, take a seat,” he helped you sit down against the wall, pulling his phone out.

“I got your water,” you hummed, holding up the glass.

He chuckled softly, “it’s for you, drink it. I need to make a call.”

You nodded, taking a sip. He stayed stood up as he made a call, words hushed just enough so you couldn’t hear them. Not that you were really able to focus on it much anyway. Your head felt light, but your body felt heavy. Everytime you touched your skin, it felt like it wasn’t your own hands touching you, every nerve felt separated from yourself. Most of all, you were tired. You wanted to sleep. Your head hung forward, and you let your eyes slip closed for a few minutes, just to rest them.

You weren’t allowed to for long. Tommy gently shook your arm. It felt like a sick parallel of just a few nights ago.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me, alright? I’ll get you home soon.”

You groaned softly but nodded nonetheless.

He sighed, crouching in front of you, “make sure you drink that water alright? Not too fast though.”

You gave him a thumbs up, this one weaker than before. You took another sip of the water, rubbing your face a bit.

“Did you tell anyone that you were even coming here?”

“Nope,” you hummed, popping the ‘p’. “Too- too sad.”

“Too sad?” He frowned, “Is this because the whole Wilbur thing?”

You nodded, and you couldn’t fight the slight tears brimming your eyes, “I just… I don’t get why. I-” you choked on a weak sob, head falling forward again as you quietly admitted, “I love him. So, so much, Tommy.”

You could hear Tommy let out a hiss of air, almost a gasp, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, “I really think you need to talk to him. It won’t be an excuse, but I think you’ll understand it.”

“I want to, I-I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared that forgiving him means accepting how in love with him I am, because I know it’s hopeless. I’m scared of forgiving him and signing away my heart to someone who- who just won’t love me back,” you felt less coherent than you spoke, the drunkenness letting out slurred words you’d never let pass your lips otherwise.

Tommy frowned, pulling you into a hug as you sniffled.

“I just-” you sobbed quietly, “I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Tommy spoke, rubbing your back gently, “It is scary to love someone, but it’s not a bad thing. I really think you should just talk to him, I think-”

“Tommy?”

Your heart dropped in your chest slightly upon hearing Wilbur’s voice. Tommy let go of you, standing back up to head over to Wilbur. You took the time to wipe the small tears on your face, brushing off your temporary bout of sadness. Tommy spoke to Wilbur for a moment, and you fought the urge to hang your head again. Quite poorly you fought that urge, letting your head lull slightly, the exhaustion coming in full force. You heard feet shuffling, and you could see Wilbur’s usual Docs in front of you. He crouched down, one hand gently coming onto your cheek.

“Hey, darling,” he spoke in a hushed tone, similar to how one would speak to a wounded animal, “are you feeling alright?”

You hated that you leaned into his touch, even in you didn’t have much control over your body right now. “‘M fine,” you hummed out.

He frowned, clearly not believing that, “Let’s get you home, alright?”

As much as you wanted to fight going back to the apartment with him, nothing seemed better right now than lying in your bed rather than on the cold ground. You nodded, and he carefully helped you up. You immediately stumbled, but he was quick to hold you against his side.

“I got you, it’s alright,” he hummed, pulling you into his side. He gave Tommy a bit of a wave, humming out a thank you to him, before he started walking you both home.

The ground was swaying – or were you swaying – underneath you, and you groaned softly, leaning into his side.

“I know, I know,” he hummed softly, “if you need me to carry you, just let me know, okay?”

You snorted. “I’m fine, Wilbur,” you spoke with a slur, dragging out the word ‘fine’.

It made him giggle a bit, and honestly, fuck him for letting out such a beautiful sound, “I know you are. You’re just a bit silly right now, hm?”

“I’m always silly, actually, you’re just a lil bitch.”

He laughed, holding you closer, “I know I am, trust me. I very much am a ‘lil bitch’.”

You hummed, nodding, “Glad you know it.” You couldn’t stop the words that came out next, “you’re my lil bitch.”

If you’d been looking at his face, you probably would’ve caught the slight flush that covered his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he hummed, “I am.”

You gave an affirmative nod, leaning your head on his shoulder slightly as you looked up at the world.

“Wilbur.”

“Yes?”

“The lights are moving.”

He snorted softly, “What do you mean, darling?”

“The streetlights are moving.”

He hummed, nodding and stopping walking. “Did that fix it?”

You glared at the streetlamps, trying to determine if they were pretending to be still, “A little, but I think they’re lying about it.”

He started walking again, chuckling, “Oh, they are?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, “Government conspiracy, innit?”

He laughed, nodding thoughtfully, “Yeah, must be. Don’t look at them too much, alright?”

“Why? Scared they’ll start running after us?”

“No,” he laughed, “Just don’t need you throwing up on the street.”

“I’ll throw up wherever I please, actually.”

“Oh, do you need to?” He asked, concerned suddenly.

“No,” you huffed, “I have a gut of steel.”

“We both know that’s not true,” He noted, relieved once again.

“How dare you, actually, that is so rude. I’m going to throw up on your shoes as protest.”

“I’d very much prefer you didn’t.” “Mm. Don’t care. You’ve shamed me,” you giggled, “The shoes will pay for it.”

He chuckled, “I sincerely apologize, darling. Will that save the shoes?”

“Hmmm,” you pretended to think. “Well, darling,” you mocked, “that will save them, but only for now. They’re on thin ice.”

He grinned, walking up to the front of your apartment building and pulling out his keys, “You ready to walk up the stairs?”

You groaned, “Why did we get an apartment on the third floor? This is a curse.”

“You got this. I can always carry you.”

“I can do it, the stairs are just evil.”

“They are evil, but you can conquer them,” he smiled, holding you tighter as he helped you manuver the stairs.

“This sucks,” you groaned, trying to focus on your steps and nearly failing each time.

“We’re about half way, love. You still feeling alright? Wanna stop for a moment?”

“If I stop,” you paused, “I will not continue.”

He chuckled, “Alright, good to know.”

You both continued walking up, slower than usual to make up for the fact that you could barely see straight. He helped you every step of the way, taking his time to make sure you’d be alright, which you were thankful for given the amount of times you were tripping over your feet. You finally made it up to the door, fighting the urge to just lean against it as Wilbur unlocked the door. All the movement was making you feel a bit off and even more tired before. Wilbur guided you to through the door to your room.

He carefully sat you down on your bed, “Stay here, I’ll grab some water, alright?”

You nodded, eagerly sitting on your bed. You relaxed on the bed, pulling your phone and wallet out of your pocket and setting them on your nightstand. Wilbur walked back in, setting the glass of water and a pack of painkillers on your nightstand. He grabbed the wastebin, setting it next to the bed.

“Feeling any better?” He asked softly.

You nodded, but you paused, actually taking a moment to focus on how you actual felt. Your throat felt slightly closed, and your mouth was salivating. And your stomach felt rough. Oh fuck. You leaned over, spilling the contents of your stomach into the waistbin. Wilbur rushed over to clear your hair out of your face, gently rubbing your back as you threw up. You panted softly, gripping the edge of the bed. You cursed softly, wiping at your mouth.

Wilbur stood, bringing you the water. You drank it thankfully while he walked out for a moment.

He came back in with a big hoodie and a pair of shorts, and you looked down and noticed the vomit on your shirt and pants. You felt exhausted. You groaned softly, slowly getting up and taking the clothes thankfully, walking to the bathroom to change quickly. You only noticed it was his clothing after you already got dressed, and you did not feel like changing again either. You shuffled out, walking back to the bed. Wilbur was sat, waiting for you. You sat next to him, lying down with your head next to his lap. You wanted to rest your head on his lap, craving the comfort he brings you, but you felt wary to do so. Regardless, he brought a hand down, gently playing with your hair.

“I know we should talk about this more in the morning, but…” he sighed softly, “I really am sorry for what I said the other night. I just- I wasn’t thinking, and I was just drunk and upset. These are all just… excuses, but I… I really am sorry.”

“I know,” you murmured softly, “I knew it was just you being drunk, but… I just didn’t understand why and I was scared you hated me.” You spoke quietly, moving your head onto his thigh, solely so you could hide your face against his chest.

He shifted to move your head fully into his lap. “I could never hate you. I-I have a reason, but it doesn’t excuse what I did or said.”

“What’s the reason?”

He frowned, biting his lip and going silent for a moment, “I… can it wait until morning? I think I may only be able to say it once.” You felt the pit in your stomach drop, but you nodded nonetheless, burying your face further into his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “that I brought you to this. Hiding and getting drunk and just… recklessness, I guess. I was really scared when Tommy called me.”

“I’s not your fault,” you sighed softly, “I just didn’t know what to do, I chose to do this. I could’ve just talked to you.”

“You could’ve, sure, but I was… a dick. I don’t blame you for being scared to talk to me. I said horrible stuff. I have no control over who you talk to or decide to flirt with, and it was entitled of me to even act like I do.”

You sighed, yawning quietly. You wrapped your arms around his torso gently, relaxing into him. You could feel the exhaustion taking over, eyelids heavy.

You spoke quietly, “I was only flirting,” you mumbled, “to try and get over you.”

He tensed, but you didn’t hear his next words, sleep taking you like you ached to take Wilbur’s hand.

In the morning, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of dread, created by a mixture of the hangover and the remembering. Shockingly, you weren’t alone. You thought once your words had processed to Wilbur, he’d have left you. Instead, you were pressed against his chest, cuddled into him. You could tell he was awake – could feel his hand gently carding through your hair – but for a moment, you just wanted to pretend. After whatever conversation was coming up, you didn’t know if you’d ever get to be wrapped up in his arms like this again. Not to mention, opening your eyes meant an imminent headache due to the daylight. So for a few minutes, you just tried to gain some comfort from this and ignore the growing dread.

But you couldn’t pretend forever.

“Darling?” Wilbur whispered, “Are you awake?”

You sighed, groaning lightly as you nodded, “yeah.”

“How are you feeling?”

You whined softly, chuckling a bit, “Like shit.”

He chuckled softly, “I have water and painkillers, you want them?”

You nodded, and he shifted up, grabbing them from the nightstand without pushing you out of his arms. You still had to eventually, sitting up to take the painkiller and drink some of the water. You opened your eyes, and you were thankful to find that the room wasn’t as bright as you had thought it would be. You saw Wilbur watching you with concern, one hand gently rubbing your back. You set the water down, sighing softly after.

He bit his lip before speaking, “Do you… want to talk now or when the painkiller has kicked in?”

The question you were dreading. Better to just rip the bandaid off. “Now.”

He nodded, shifting and gently taking your hand.

“Last night, you said… you were flirting to try and get over me. What did you mean by that?”

You gulped softly, closing your eyes to brace yourself for the potential rejection, “Wilbur, I… I’ve liked you for months now. And I thought I’d get over it, but it just- it just got stronger. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, and I understand if you want me to move out or something. But I wanted to at least try to flirt and see if I could get over you, and it just didn’t work. So, that’s- that’s why. I wanted to get over the crush I have on you.”

He didn’t respond for a while, and you kept your eyes closed, taking a shaky breath while you waited for him to respond.

“What if… I didn’t want you to get over it?”

Your eyes flew open, looking up at him quickly. He had a shy expression, a faint blush on his cheeks. “What do you mean by that?”

He sighed, squeezing your hand a bit tighter, “I got mad at you flirting because I was jealous. I’ve liked you for a really long time, but I didn’t want to say anything because I was scared to lose our friendship and my roommate. I asked to kiss you that night while we were drunk because I figured it’d be my only chance to ever get to kiss you. But if you’re telling me that isn’t true? Darling, I’d do anything just to feel your lips on mine again, let alone to get the chance to date you and make you happy.”

Oh. Oh.

You moved a hand up, gently cupping his cheek. He leaned into you, and you leaned forward, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He let out a quiet gasp, kissing you back lovingly, his other hand coming to wrap around your back. The kiss was short lived, but only so he could pull away to speak, foreheads still pressed together.

“Darling, can I,” he paused, taking a quick breath, “Will you do me the honor of being mine?”

You chuckled softly, nodding, “It’d be the greatest gift I could ask for.”

He grinned, pulling you in for another kiss, this one stronger and… just.

You didn’t have the words to really describe it. It felt warm. Like daylight resting on your skin on a spring day. The warmth that felt like home. Like pulling clothes out the dryer and just holding them close for a moment. The warmth that came from laughter and telling stories in the middle of a summer night. It was golden.

When he pulled away, you two stayed close, panting lightly for a moment. When you finally separated fully, his arms were coming to wrap around you once more, hugging you tightly.

“And here I was thinking that I’d lose you when I confessed.”

You hummed softly, “I thought the same.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Well you didn’t. And I didn’t lose you. Don’t worry, either, I’ll be taking you on a proper date once you’re feeling better. For now… cereal date?”

“Hm,” you thought, “Can it be a cereal date in bed?”

He chuckled, “Absolutely it can be, my love.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mar writes #mcyt x reader #lovejoy #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur

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marinaas-world · 5 months

Text

as long as you call me.

// simpbur x reader

cw // wilbur is lowk a perv, stalker wil, confident you

summary // everyday is the same. go to work, fantasize, go home, drink it all away, and wake up to do it all again. but, today was different.

pronouns // not mentions

!not proofread!

481 words

a/n // just wanted to get something out for christmas. happy holidays to everyone :) thank you for all the support on previous stories!

it's a routine at this point.

he goes to work, does what he needs to, then during his break, he watches you. he watches you as you sit and type on the computer, wishing your hands were on him instead of the keyboard. his fingers grasp his coffee mug harder as he thinks about your fingers in his. all he wants is to be noticed by you. all he wants is for you to love him like he loves you.

once he gets reprimanded for the 3rd time for not doing his work, he goes back to his desk on the other side of the room. he watches as you get up to go to the bathroom. he watches as you bring papers and files to your shared boss. he watches as you drop a pen and bend over to pick it up. he can feel the blood rushing up to his face. he looks down at his empty papers, trying to control his growing blush. he watches as your coworkers put a hand on your shoulder, taking all of your attention. he watches as you smile at said coworker, talking about something funny. he can feel his envy and anger growing, his face turning a hue of red. he turns away before someone can notice the flames behind his eyes.

before he goes home, he takes another pit stop in the break room, hoping to find you in there. usually, you don't stay in there, but sometimes he's lucky to catch you. today was a lucky day.

he never talked to you, but always gave you typical half smile the coworkers you know well do.

you always thought he was cute. you also always knew he watches you. all day, everyday. you always go home and wonder why he doesn't ever approach you. maybe he is just shy. luckily, you're not.

"hey! im y/n. you're wilbur, right?" you stick your hand out at him. his hands are huge. surely around double the size of yours.

"y-yeah. that's my name," he says, quite awkwardly. he mumbles his words about all the time. you wonder if he is always this quiet.

"you know, you're pretty cute," you say, standing next to him, looking up at him.

"really? you really think so?" he says, a smile forming across his mouth. you nod, smiling back at him.

"yeah, i do. can i get your number?" a sudden wave of confidence had hit you. everything was on autopilot, and frankly, it was going pretty damn well. he pulls out his phone, showing you his contact information. you successfully put it all in, pausing when you get to his contact name.

"what do you want me to call you?" you ask, peeling your eyes away from your phone to look up at him.

"i don't care. wilbur, will, william. as long as you call me."

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #makingitoutalive #wilbur mcyt #wilbur x you #simpbur #wilbur fluff #wilbur soot fluff

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poraphia · 9 months

Text

"One Tall Coffee With Cream And Sugar."

lvjy!wilbur x manager!reader 2467 words • 8.16.23 cw ~ coffee, lovejoy, large crowds, almost falling off stage, kith mwah mwah wilbur soot masterlist!

pt. 1 ~ "Four medium-sized coffees, one big fat work crush."

After this concert, it'll be all over. So here you go, Wilbur, your last morning coffee of the tour! From me, your manager <3

♡♡♡

“Order for (y/n)!”

I smiled at the barista, placing some coins in the tip jar before taking the cardboard tray of coffee in both hands. I looked down to make sure each order was perfect: one iced coffee with mocha drizzle, one small double-shot espresso, one cappuccino, and one tall coffee with cream and sugar. After ticking down my mental checklist of Lovejoy’s coffee orders, I pushed open the glass door, feeling the breeze of the LA air on my face.

Today was Lovejoy’s last tour in America.

It’s been more than two months since I’ve been with Lovejoy and their first tour around the States along with my first time serving as a on-the-road tour manager. With all good things, they must come to an end, and I’m grateful for every moment I’ve spent with the crew and the band, but what pained me the most was a certain member having to travel across seas back home.

Every moment with Wilbur felt like I was on cloud 9. Even through difficult venue scheduling and working with different states, he was always behind me to back me up. Sometimes I would notice that before going on stage, Wilbur would be hiding in the lounge room, fumbling with his fingers while pacing back and forth. “Pre-concert nerves?” I would ask. He would look at me with a worried look painted in his eyes. He would shake his head, biting on his fingernails. I would walk up to him and hug him tight, listening to his pacing heartbeat gradually slow down.

“You got this, Will. I believe in you. Everyone is going to love you, and even if you do play the wrong chord or sing a little offkey, who cares? Just keep playing because that was what you were born to do.” I would say, rubbing his back. Five minutes later you wouldn’t even think twice about that man being nervous on the stage because he was hopping around and screaming into the microphone, occasionally shooting a look at me that said “Thank you.” I smiled, reminiscing on the memories.

“Need a hand, sweetheart?” I looked up, only to be met with the chocolate eyes of Wilbur fucking Gold. There he was, opening the door for me with his guitar strapped to his back. It felt familiar. Like the first time we met. Especially with me clutching the cardboard cup that hosted all the coffee orders for the band. I smirked at him, brushing right past. The only difference was that I was at least confident enough to even talk to him.

“I’m good, Will, but thank you.” I chimed. He chuckled before catching up to me with his hands in his pockets.

“How you feeling?” He asked. I hummed a bit as we talked together through the venue.

“I guess kind of nervous? Since we set up a lot of things for the finale of the America tour. Like all the effects and all. You know what I mean?” I said. He nodded, pushing open the backstage door so I can walk through on my own. As I walked past though, he grabbed the tall coffee from its holder before taking a sip. I looked at him, giving him a lecturing face.

“What! It’s my drink!” He exclaimed, holding his hands up in defense.

“And what if it was someone else's?” I said with a joking attitude. He shrugged, walking away so that the door may close behind him. He takes another sip, savoring the taste.

“I’m really gonna miss this coffee.” He sighed.

“It’s nothing too unique, really! Isn’t this what you would order back at home?” I said, rolling my eyes. I placed the coffee on a nearby table before turning around and leaning back. My palms supported my weight as I looked at him.

“I mean yeah but—” He was placing his guitar case down, unzipping it to retrieve his guitar. “I guess it wouldn’t come from you anymore.” He said, a bit sorrowfully. Before I could respond, Mark, Ash, and Joe walk through the door, all with their respective instruments and bags in hand.

“Hey guys, is venue all ready?” Joe asked, waving at the both of us before putting down his instrument. I walked up to him with his respective coffee in hand.

“Yup. Just waiting on you guys for soundcheck, and here’s your coffee!” I said, handing it to him. Joe smiled, taking the coffee and giving it a sip.

“Thanks, (y/n), we’re gonna miss you and the crew as our team.” He praised, giving a mini-cheer with his coffee. I smiled, noticing that Mark and Ash had already gone and grabbed their own coffees. Will was standing in the corner, staring at me. I tilted my head at him. With a cheeky smile, he tilted his head as well. I chuckled a little before turning to look at the other guys.

“Okay, so you guys just need to do some sound checking which should take roughly an hour? Then an hour after that we’ll have our final gig! The team is already onset, so just hook your instruments with everything and we should be good to go.” I explained. Ash nodded, taking a sip of his coffee while holding his bass, while the rest made some voices of approval.

We all headed out on stage, and I told them where each person would be standing. Wilbur would be in the front with the mic, Joe would be somewhat to the right of him a little bit back with Ash basically the same just on the left. Then Mark would be just behind Ash with his drumset.

Everyone plugged in their instruments and began strumming random patterns just to make sure that the audio was coming coherently. The soundcheck person adjusted accordingly. I hopped off the stage and stood in the middle of the venue, making sure that the positions were as perfect as I envisioned. After a long stare, I realized that Will was a little bit off-place. “Will!” I tried to exclaim over the noise. Wilbur looked at me, and playfully, he began to strum more violently. “Wilbur!” I tried to shout again, but he simply smiled at me.

Slightly annoyed, I hopped back on the stage, now standing directly in front of him. He looked down at me with a smirk right on his face. I grabbed him by the arms before moving him into position. He leaned down, still strumming on his guitar. I chuckled.

“What’s with that look?” I asked. He hummed a bit before responding.

“Nothing, you just look cute.” He said. Suddenly he brought his face close and planted a small kiss on my nose. Flustered, I stumbled back and nearly off the stage before Will caught me by the waist. My hands were clutching tight on his collar.

“S-Sorry!” I stuttered. I was near the edge, but with Will’s support, I was nearly floating off with one leg up. In one quick swift, Wilbur pulled me up and walked backward, landing me on a safe platform for me to stand on.

“Are you okay?” He asked. He held my arms so that I maintained my balance. After I felt steady enough, I looked up at him. I felt my breath getting caught in my throat. His face was so close to mine that I just wanted to kiss him, but I didn’t have the confidence he had.

“Y-Yeah..” I mumbled, still getting lost in those eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine..” I managed to stutter out. I stood up properly and brushed myself off. Wilbur backed away to give me some space. I wish that with my sleeves I could wipe off the embarrassing flush of red that was painted all over my face. “I’m gonna take five. Just— Stay in position for me!” I ran off the stage and to the back where I grabbed a bottle of cold water to cool down.

Oh boy. This was going to be hard.

After some time, security showed up and fans started loading into the venue. The place was somewhat massive, making it one of our biggest shows (not counting festivals) yet. I peeked from the stage curtain, seeing the rows of chairs being filled with all kinds of people. I turned back around to see the band. Mark was having a beer or two, Joe was practicing a little bit of his guitar solo, and Ash was scrolling through Instagram. “Hey guys, do you know where Wilbur is?” I asked. Mark looked up.

“Oh yeah, I think he’s in the outer lounge area? He might be just tuning his guitar though.” He said, pointing at the door with his beer.

I nodded and thanked him before pushing through the door. The room was much quieter than the previous lounge. Wilbur was sat on one of the couches with his guitar in his lap, but he wasn’t strumming or turning the knobs. It more looked as if he was deep into thought. I approached him carefully, yet he didn’t notice me until after I spoke up.

“Hey, Will?” I snapped him out of his thoughts. His hands fell into gripping his guitar defensively before frantically looking at me.

“Ah, hey (y/n), sorry I was just thinking.” He said, sighing. I raised an eyebrow before sitting next to him, crossing my legs.

“Well, thinking about what?” I asked. “Just— out of curiosity. You don’t have to tell me.”

Wilbur hummed before sitting back on the couch, moving his guitar closely to his chest. “I guess just… What’s going to happen after the tour, y’know when I get home and all? I’m going to miss all this adventuring and going to different states.” His head then turned to me. He has a soft, sort of vulnerable look on his face. Like a glass of water that was full to the very top, and just one droplet could make that brimming all come cascading down like a waterfall. “I..—”

Before he could finish his sentence, both of our ear monitors went off. “Two minutes until stage time. Please prepare your places.”

I looked over to Wilbur, who seemed a bit frustrated he wasn’t able to finish his sentence, but I had to brush it off for now. I got up and helped him up as well as we both rushed backstage, back to the screaming fans, wires, and bass-boosted speakers. Wilbur found his position next to Ash as I stood in front of them.

“Alright, guys, this is our biggest show in the States yet. I want you guys to have the whole venue jumping by the time we’re done!” I exclaimed all of them cheered with words of encouragement. “And, I’d seriously like to say this has been one of the best moments of my life. I am super proud to be your guys’ tour manager. So, please! Next time you guys are in the States, message me!”

Mark rushed to hug me with a big smile on his face. “We loved touring with you too, (y/n)! Thank you seriously for all the coffee and encouragement you’ve given us!” He beamed. Maybe it was the beer loosening up his speech, but he certainly spoke with pride and excitement. Ash came in too, wrapping his arms around us, and soon joined Joe and Wilbur. It was a tender moment for us all. A core memory that is the end of the tour for Lovejoy.

It took all of our ear monitors going off to break off the little moment. Soon enough, the boys were at the edge of the curtains, waiting for their countdown to end so they can finally step on stage. Once they did, the whole venue roared in excitement. Wilbur did his usual theatrics: talking to the crowd, and introducing the band, before counting down and playing the songs we had planned. I ran around backstage for most of the time, making sure that the lighting crew knew what was doing, and talking to soundcheck to make sure everything was going, but in those rare instances when I had a break, I would look over to Wilbur from offstage.

There he was, glowing in yellow backlights as his eyes fluttered close, plucking at his guitar and singing lyrics he would spend all day and all night revising and humming. I know moments like these are captured by our hired photographers, but my eyes saw something so much more personal. If eyes could take a screenshot, I did exactly that and stored it in the safest part of my brain’s gallery.

It felt like the concert went by too fast because, in a blink of an eye, Wilbur was finishing up his last performance of The Fall. Smoke and lights illuminated him and his band’s presence on stage and before I knew it, it was all over. The crowd cheered for Wilbur's dramatic finale as he raised his guitar high in the air. Sweat dripped off his body, soaking little bits of his clothing. The song finally came to an end as the lights cut off. Nothing but the most bittersweet smile rested on my face.

The tour

Was finally over.

Or was it?

The lights faded back on with Wilbur gripping the microphone. He had given his guitar to someone backstage before they had walked off. “Crowd,” he started. “This marks the end of our United States tour, and you have brought nothing but thrill and pure adventure.” He then turned toward me. “But there’s someone who frankly was, the cherry on top of it all. You may have seen her a little bit on our social media, maybe Ash posted her on his story once or twice. Everyone please, give it up for (y/n)!”

I stood there in shock as I heard the audience chant my name. Wilbur gestured toward me, the mic still in hand. I shook my head, snapping out of my anxiousness before stepping onto the stage. Despite being the background for it all, I’ve never been in front of a crowd. This was all so… Exhilarating.

Wilbur took me by the hand, twirling me in place before placing an arm around my waist and dipping me down. “There were so many times I’ve wanted to kiss you, to tell you how much I’ll miss you, and how we won’t be by each other’s side anymore. I just… I wanted to take this moment now.” He romanced in my ear. With a wide smile on my face, I jumped up, wrapping my arms around his neck before pulling him into a kiss.

Finally, those lips that I memorized on that tour bus—

Lips that I only dreamed of kissing.

They were finally on mine.

And faintly, I could taste his morning coffee.

♡♡♡

a/n ~ hihi! the long-awaited pt.2 of a request I did a while ago! thank you guys so much for the support I really wouldn't have written it without yall <3 ilysm!

taglist ~ @mrssabinecallas @maddiegotlost @lanaxoxoxoxoxox @imcool-rat @themonsterunderurmom

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