#musicianbur x reader

[heartofwritiing]

We could make such a pretty picture

Paring: musicianbur x photographer!reader

Summary: you are lovejoy’s tour photographer and wilbur likes to tease you.

authors note: this is so rushed and unedited mostly just my stream of consciousness that popped into my head while i finish up the zombur fic! its almost done!!

warnings: fluff, short, flirting, a little suggestive maybe, i use a cringey (?) line idk take it as you will lmao, unedited!

“Make sure you get my good side darling.”

Before every show backstage, Wilbur would always tell you to quote: “get my good side” whatever that meant. It was impossible to get his bad side. Every angle Wilbur Soot always looked ethereal, and that had nothing to do with your photography skills.

You would gaze up at him from the pits, readily pointing your camera to capture any shot of him playing his heart out to the screaming fans behind you. Rightfully so, you couldn’t deny how good he looked up on that stage.

Skin glistened with sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, and the light eyeliner slightly smudged in the corners of his eyes. His lips pulled up in a smirk as he flipped his hair in a certain way when a beat dropped. It was undeniable now, that he was doing this on purpose. He was goddamn attractive and he knew it.

After the show you would always sit in one of the green room chairs, keeping to yourself and letting the excitement of the after-show buzz from the band fill the room. You were scrolling through the photos, admiring your work on a picture of Ash with the lightning just right when you felt a presence creep up behind you.

“That ones quiet good,” Wilbur’s voice made you jump out of your skin, and he laughed at your startled state.

“Thanks,” you replied, returning to scrolling through your pictures but Wilbur stayed right by your shoulder. Sounds of his bandmates laughter filled the space, he couldn’t care to jump into their conversation. Too entranced by your photography. Wilbur had never truly seen your work before. Of course there was pictures the band used for the instagram account, but those were taken by their previous photographer.

You were new, and Wilbur had briefly seen your work before. Only two shows into the tour, you didn’t have the time to sit with the lead singer and exhibit your entire portfolio to hkm. But seeing how you captured his presence on stage so well, with the white strobe light hitting him at just the right angle, caused his interest to be peaked even further. It made him want to get to know you better.

“you know, we make such a pretty picture,” you can hear the deviousness in his voice and the underlying meaning behind his own lyrics he was using towards you. It warms your cheeks and you avoid his eyes that are burning into the side of your face.

You cleared your throat and repositioned yourself in your seat. “whatever you say, its all you up there on that stage,”

The next night, standing once more in the pits, camera ready as the first chords of 'Portrait of a Blank Slate' blasted through the venue speakers, and screams exploded around you. As the color lights switch from dark blue to deep red, Wilbur saunters to the microphone and begins singing the first lyrics.

You lift your camera up to your face and look through the viewfinder to be met with an up-close Wilbur, who is pressing his lips right into the microphone. A smirk pulled the corner of his mouth when he peeked open his eye to catch you pointing your camera at him. Cheeky bastard.

As he sang the next few lyrics, his hands lift up to the top part of his shirt where it was unbuttoned. Running his index finger from from his collar down to his chest, he sang; ‘shes an artist, paints across my chest,’ while sending you a quick wink.

Your mouth parted in utter shock and felt your heart beating in your ears. How does this man do this to you? You hadn’t even known him that long, but he was making you feel dizzy with the slightest little actions. You quickly shook away any thoughts popping into your mind and took a couple more photos of him. The last one was of him leaning back while strumming the next chords, then you moved on to capture more of the other band members. You just had to force yourself away from him before you got carried away.

That same night later on the tour bus, you were going through your photos again. One in particular caught your eye, it was of Wilbur with the red lights behind him casting him in a dark glow, and his guitar lifted into the air while he threw his head back. Infamous rockstar pose, you decide to call it. You chose a couple more to post to your professional instagram account, tagging the band members each in their respective photos.

About an hour later a notification came up on your phone that a mutual had commented on your photo. You checked it and immediately felt butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the words on your screen.

@/WilburSoot: Told you we make such a pretty picture ;)

taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez @highstonedcat

if you want to be added or removed from the taglist let me know!

#fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur soot fanfic #ahh this is cringy ik ik 🫣 #might delete later

[denalidear]

Raspy

a/n: basically, uh, my bestie and i saw a lovejoy concert this week and we've had mutual wilbur brainrot. thankfully, i'm an english major with just enough self confidence to write us some fics. enjoy.

summary: traveling made you sick, and close quarters mean everyones sick too.

word count: 672

warnings: none? fem!reader, a little suggestive, sickness

---

It’s not like you had meant to get sick. Traveling always introduced you to germs, and staying in a tour bus meant close quarters with the rest of the band. Thankfully, you’d all gotten a small break over the weekend of travel and slept a lot as the tour progressed from Washington state to Utah. 

You’d almost banned Will from kisses, but that man had the best puppy dog eyes known to man.  But now, as the bus rolled into Salt Lake City, he was suffering the consequences of his actions in the form of a mild cold. He had a massive headache, but apart from a little rasp in his throat, his vocal chords weren’t under too much extra stress. 

It did take a bit of extra convincing to get Will out of the bunks and into sound check, but a few forehead kisses did the trick as you offered him a few ibuprofen and a bottle of water. 

“I feel bad, Will. Maybe kisses should have been banned.” You said quietly, watching the tower of a man crawl out of his bottom bunk. “Absolutely not, love. That’s the whole point of bringing you on tour.” He pulled you into a hug. “Can’t kiss over the phone.” He smooshed his lips into the top of your head, the action barely resembling a kiss. 

“Alright, well, don’t let me distract you any longer. You’ve got a whole load of people waiting on you.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted as he moved around the bus, getting ready for sound check and the concert that would insue. 

---

“Salt Lake City, how are we doing tonight?” Wilbur asked the crowed. The venue was packed, almost more that the other dozen places you’d been on tour so far. And the energy buzzed in the room, the audience screaming their heads off after the first song. 

“Salt Lake, I have a favor to ask of you. My beautiful girlfriend, whose hiding off stage-” Will gestured towards you and the crowd screamed. “- got me and Ash sick this weekend. So I am extremely unwell.” The room erupted in laughter and cheering. 

“As a side effect of this, my voice is very raspy. It’s great for me because my love thinks it’s sexy, but it’s not so great for singing. So I need you all to fucking scream to these songs.” The room vibrated with the volume of the cheers. You could see his grin from behind the curtains as he carefully began the chords to Model Busses.

---

Post-concert Will was your favorite Will, not that you love him any less normally. But after every gig he just buzzed with adrenaline when he got off stage. Tonight was no different. As soon as he got off stage he scooped you up in a hug and smashed his lips on yours. You indulged him for a moment, holding him tight despite the shirt clinging to his body with sweat. As soon as he pulled away, you spoke.

“You, mister, did not play my song!” You berated him as you helped him pull of the denim jacket he insisted on wearing. He laughed quietly, voice rougher han before he went on stage. “You promised you’d do it’s all futile acoustic tonight!”

“And you, my love, are being mean to a sick man.”

“Sick as a consequence of his own actions. Only one of us here can’t keep his lips to himself.” You fluffed his sweaty stuck hair off of his forehead before pulling him into a kiss. 

“Seems like a mutual problem to me, my dear.” He tried to pull you into another hug, the sweat on his skin cooling. You quickly pushed your hand to his chest. 

“Oh buddy, if anything else is happening between us tonight, you’re gonna need to shower first.”

“Well I thought you loved me, sweat and all.”

“I only love boys who play my favorite song at their concert. Like they promised.”

“That’s low, love. Really low.” 

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it  when you don’t stink.” 

#wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt fanfiction #fanfiction #cc!wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #cc!wilbur soo t #blurb #headcanon #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction

[joviepog]

IM HERE TO REQUEST (lyss) I also have such bad writers block that I can’t even think of prompts but maybe something about Wilbur and reader maybe he’s playing a song he wrote them I love musicianbur or artist reader and he’s looking at their work :)

Also hmu anytime you want to just brainstorm :)

Awe i absolutely love this idea! Thanks for the request @alyssys!

—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—

With all my love

Who: Wilbur x reader

Warnings: None!

Pronouns: None mentioned!

Anything else: I love musicianbur so much. I did make this a small blurb though bc i think the smallest things are the most important <3

—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—ᜊ—

I feel like after you two start dating, every song is about you. The first one in the album would be how you two met, then the next how you two started to fall in love, then all the moments you had together, then you guy’s first date and how he felt. I feel like it would be such a change in music. Like even when he’s with the rest of the band or even one of his twitch friends he’s just talking about you the whole time. And if someone compliments one of his newer songs he’ll just be like, “Oh yeah. That’s about my gf.”

“Alright everyone! This next one is from the new ep!” Everyone cheers, “Do you guys already know the lyrics?” everyone cheers again.

I feel like he would make a song about you helping him heal when he was at his worse. And i think he would cry every time he would play that song.

Once he starts singing he feels a lump in his throat. The band told him maybe they should save the song for another day but he refused. The song reminded him so much of you. And he missed you so much that he just wanted to be reminded of all the times you two had.

After a couple more seconds of the song slow tears started to go down his face. Not exactly sad ones but not exactly happy ones. After he finished the song he would just talk about you for five minutes straight.

Everyone would be “Awe”-ing and “ohh..” when he explains the song. He just thought you would never see it, but the whole time Elodie was just face timing you.

After the show ended you called him and told him how much you love him. And that you promise to be there for him forever. And then he just cries again because he’s so happy.

Turns out the top twitter feed was wilbur crying on stage and taking about how much he loved you. But that didnt matter, because all he wanted was to make you happy.

—/—/—/—/—/—/—

I JUST GOT ANOTHER IDEA WHERE WILBUR SHOWS YOU A SONG HE MADE FOR YOU WITHOUT TELLING YOU ITS FOR YOU

“Oh darling, before i forget, i made this new song and i wanted to see how you liked it.”

You two are in your guy’s shared room and he has a guitar in hand, he’s playing you songs to relax you after a long day.

“Of course!” You smile at him. He starts playing and you listen intently. Not wanting to miss a single note or lyric he sings. But as he continues singing you realize that it sounds familiar.

He’s smiling as he sings, watching you lost in thought out of the corner of his eye.

it turns out he used a melody that you always hum as the tune and that the lyrics is about how much he loves you.

“Wilbur? Is this song about me?”

He stops singing and playing.

“Maybe?” He says teasingly.

You instantly move aside his guitar and hug him. “Oh your such a tease!” You giggle as you give him small kisses all around his face.

Awe i love musicianbur stop. T-T

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x yn #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x yn #wilbur x you #dream smp x reader #dream smp x yn #dream smp x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp x yn #dsmp x you #myct x reader #myct x yn #myct x you #JoviePog #musicianbur x reader #musicianbur x yn #musicianbur x you #wilbur soot #wilbur #dream smp #dsmp #myct #musicianbur

[shubblelive]

— STUPID, DUMB AND LOVELY

summary : as deeply in love with you as wilbur is, he definitely regrets asking you to come on tour with him. he can't concentrate on his work, not when you're right there looking so damn pretty.

genre : fluff

warnings : none!!

pairing : wilbur soot x reader, musicianbur x reader

pronouns : none (you/yours)

featuring : musician!wilbur soot

word count : 850

note : some fluffy musicianbur for your saturday afternoon, as promised, tagging @pebblebrainlovejoy because she asked me to. hope you enjoy <3

he needed to leave for the venue in less than an hour, and wilbur was still figuring out what to wear. this was his first show of the tour that wasn’t in the uk, and for some reason he was shaking, nerves a lot more heightened than usual. he was always a little nervous before playing a show, he didn’t want to let people down. but this time it was different. it was their first tour, and it didn’t help that he’d asked (begged) you to come with him. 

the rest of the band had gone on ahead, and it was just you and him left. he’d spent loads of time alone with you, but this time it was different. “will?” you knocked gently on the door and he jumped. 

“uh..” he scrambled to finish getting dressed. “yeah? you okay?”

“i should be asking you that,” you replied, voice muffled by the door. “can i come in?”

he finished buttoning his shirt and stammered “yep!” his voice was an octave too high. you pushed open the door gently and softened at his appearance.

“wilbur…” you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing. “you alright?” he nodded unconvincingly, and rightfully so you weren’t convinced. “your shirt’s buttoned wrong, and it’s sticking out of your pants,” you said regretfully, stifling a giggle.

wilbur flushed, yanking his shirt out of where it was sticking out. he tried to unbutton his shirt, but his hands were shaking. you held out your hand sympathetically, and he let you fix his shirt. you flattened out one of the creases with your hands, and squeezed his shoulder gently. “what’s going on?”

“just pre-show nerves,” he admitted. “i’ll be alright.” you were wilbur’s best friend, so it wasn’t completely unexpected that you wrapped him in a hug. your embrace was warm, and he couldn’t focus with the smell of your conditioner invading his nostrils. the two of you had been friends for a few years, and he’d had a massive crush on you for almost that entire time. it was fine though; if you caught wind of his feelings then you didn’t say anything.

“you’ve got this, will,” you whispered, and in the dark hotel room, blinds drawn and bed messy, he had never loved you more. your cheek was pressed against his shoulder and he let his hands wander up and down your arms, giving you goosebumps. “you’ll do great,”

“i should never have asked you to come with me,” he admitted breathlessly, and you pulled back, a look of curious hurt on your face. “‘can’t focus when you’re around, darling. you’re throwing me off my game,”

your smile widened. “sorry. can’t help being so charming,”

wilbur laughed. “you really can’t, can you?” his hand brushed yours and he went to pull it away on instinct, not wanting to push his luck. instead, you grabbed it, intertwining your fingers with his. “you alright, pretty girl?”

your cheeks warmed, and you bit your lip. “more than alright, you okay?”

“yes,” he emphasised. he wasn’t lying. you being there did always make him feel way better. he pressed his cheek to your palm. “but i wasn’t lying. you’re making me crazy,”

you laughed and he wished he could bottle the sound. “you’re already crazy, soot.” he smiled and you couldn’t help yourself. “maybe i’m crazy too,” he gave you an appraising look and you continued. “it’s your fault, though. you with your stupid dumb hair,”

“my stupid dumb hair?” he chuckled. you nodded concretely and he squeezed your hand. “okay well i think it’s your fault with your stupid dumb face,”

“what’s wrong with my face?” you asked, mock offence laced in your voice. 

“absolutely nothing, honey,” will smiled at you, and your breath quickened. you were standing so close to him and you smelled so nice and you were smiling so sweetly at him that he couldn’t bring it in himself to regret his next words. “can i kiss you?”

you shook your head and his face fell. “we need to leave, soundcheck starts in twenty,” his eyes, warm and dark behind his glasses, were practically begging you to reconsider. you put your hands on the back of his neck, gently pulling him closer. you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth and wilbur felt his knees almost buckle. 

“you’re evil, you know that?” his thumb stroked your cheek and you gazed innocently at her. “can i have another one?”

“get through the gig in one piece and i’ll give you twenty,”

wilbur laughed again and you felt it vibrate through his chest. “like i said, evil.” but in the barely-there light poking through the gap in the blinds lighting up half your face and the way your hands were scratching the back of his neck gently, playing with the hair at the nape made him reconsider. “you and your stupid, dumb, lovely, lovely face.”

and despite the fact that he spent the next hour transfixed by the way you were looking at him offstage, he did make it through the gig in one piece.

#wilbur #wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot

[heartofwritiing]

Kiss me (beneath the milky twilight)

paring: musicanbur x fem!reader

summary: you’re the backup singer for lovejoy, the fans don’t know you and wilbur are together, but one duet changes that.

authors note: trying to practice dialogue, so sorry if it is a little wired and doesn’t make sense idk how to write good conversation lmao, also i thought this idea was cute hope you guys like it :)

warnings: short, a make-out on stage, fluff, unedited!

“Okay, someone ate the last poptart this morning on the bus, fess up, who was it?”

Mark, who was twirling his drum stick a few times questioned amongst the group as you and the rest of lovejoy stood in a circle backstage minus Wilbur; who was still asleep in his dressing room. Pre-show naps were a ritual for him now.

Being on tour was an experience to say the least. You never thought you’d be sharing a small space with four grown men, but here you were living on a tour bus for the next four months with them. Most days it wasn’t complete chaos, you all had your respective bunks and areas but a lot of times you thought you’d somehow died and were sent to purgatory until whoever decided to send you to actual hell.

“I don’t know but I have a stash in the bus so I know it’s not me,” you raise your hands up in innocence.

“Why do you get your own secret stash?” Mark frowns.

Wilbur liked to spoil you with snacks to hide around the bus so the other boys wouldn’t find them just to tease them, All in good fun of course.

“Perks of being the lead singer’s girlfriend,” you smirk with your chin held high.

“Im convinced now that you’re the pop tart thief,” Joe added, thumb and pointer finger fiddling with the tuning pegs on his guitar while standing off to the side. “I know all the little hiding spots on the bus and I haven’t seen any secret stash of pop tarts anywhere,”

“That was completely sus of you to say, now i think it was you!” you pointed.

Stupid moments like this made up for all the times you got annoyed with them. Though you loved them all to death they drove you absolutely insane.

“So where’s your secret stash then?”

“Ill never tell, you thief.”

A pair of arms suddenly came to snake around your waist and pull you further back until a head rest on your shoulder. A very sleepy Wilbur yawned and pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder. You smiled sinking back into your lovers arms and reached your hand up to pet his soft curls. Almost instantly he hummed and it mimicked a cats pur.

“What are you guys arguing about now?” he mumbled against your shirt.

“I wouldn’t say we’re arguing, just pointing blame for whoever stole the last pop tart this morning,” you explain.

“It was probably Ash,” Joe quips. Ash looks offended with his arms raise in confusion.

“Oh no, that was me,” Wilbur states nonchalantly.

“WHAT?!” The group erupted into protests.

“I was hungry,” Wilbur shrugs. “we can afford more guys.”

“very true,” you piped.

“well i guess this solves the great pop tart thief mystery,” Mark shrugs.

“Case closed.” you remark.

Soon the argument dissolved, and everyone spoke amongst themselves. You rocked with Wilbur side to side as you hummed no tune in particular as you leaned against him.

“How was your nap honey?” you asked.

“lonely,” he states. “I missed you,”

Your heart jumps at his sentiment. It had only been a few hours since you both woke up tangled in each other’s limbs, maneuvering out of the small bunk trying not to roll out and fall. Still, you missed him when he wasn’t around too.

“I missed you too,” you brought his hand up to your lips and gave it a kiss before placing it back down against your waist.

“you still wanna go through with tonight?”

You knew what he was referring to. Wilbur had come to you with the idea of you both singing a duet on stage at one of the gigs. At first you weren’t so sure, it was his bands time to shine and you didn’t want to take away from that. You’re the back up singer for Wilbur, you felt out of place trying to share the spotlight. After some convincing; more like brain washing you with his puppy dog eyes, you eventually caved and agreed to do it.

Now that it was so close to the performance, the nerves in your body weren’t going away. You had never really been front and center on stage before. Always in the back round hidden in the stage lights. So the thought of being in-front of a crowd of a thousand people staring at you, probably waiting for you to possibly mess up, was fucking you up in the brain just a bit.

Wilbur could practically feel how tense you suddenly got and perked his head up and looked at your face with a slightly worried expression.

“We don’t have to if you’re not ready darling,”

“No, I’ll be fine,” you shook your head. “I wanna do this with you, It’ll be fun.”

Your smile didn’t seem to convince him. He didn’t want to push you into anything but, he could sense how anxious you had seemed the past couple of days. One word from you and he would cancel the whole show if you asked. which of course was very silly of him.

You were determined to get over this fear and just go with it. With one last final hug you both pulled apart and began getting prepared for the show in an hour.

The show was so explosive. The energy of the crowed was strong tonight, it made your adrenaline buzz with excitement. You had almost completely forgotten about your nerves when you stepped onto that stage.

The band had just finished One Day and cheers and screams rang out through the venue. You watched as Wilbur reached down to grab the towel sat beside his mic stand and whip his brow clean from sweat. He threw the towel back down and leaned into the microphone.

Wilbur had told you after One Day was the time slot you had to sing the duet with him.

“Alright, so we have something special planned,” Wilbur spoke. “I wanna welcome to the front of the stage Y/N, my incredible backing vocalist!”

Cheers rang out for you as you stepped center stage into the light clutching your microphone. You smiled and wave at the crowd shakily, you could practically feel your heartbeat out of your chest.

“Were gonna play a song for you, and I need you guys to sing the lyrics if you know them, and be nice to Y/N, shes super nervous,”

A chorus of ‘awes’ rang out from the crowd and you blushed bashfully as you heard a bunch of various shouts of support.

“Thanks Will,” you playfully roll your eyes at him revealing your secret.

The song you had chosen was Kiss Me by Sixpence Non the Richer, one of your favorites. The opening chords rang out as Joe began the melody. Soon, Mark kicked in the drums and you were bobbing your head to the beat.

You glanced over at Wilbur and saw a smile on his lips as he began playing as well. He looked over at you and saw the panic glossing over your eyes in the light. Somehow it made you forget everything once you connected eyes.

Look at me. he mouthed. just keep your eyes on me.

You took a deep breath and began to sing the lyrics, keeping your eyes locked with Wilbur. Somehow it made you forget everything around you and be in the moment with him.

Kiss me out of the bearded barley

Nightly, beside the green, green grass

Wilbur saw how stiff you were, barely moving your limbs. In an attempt to get you to be more comfortable he moved towards you while continuing to play.

Swing, swing, swing the spinning step

You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress, oh

He leaned forward until he was practically kissing your mic. Shocked at the close proximity you kept your composure as you both sang the chorus of the song in harmony.

Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

staring deeply into each others eyes nothing else seemed to matter. The pit in your stomach making your knees weak with the look in his eyes as they flickered down to your own lips as he sang.

You rested your left hand on his bicep, the fabric of his silky black button up grounding you before you got too light headed.

Lift your open hand, strike up the band

And make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me

You broke apart and suddenly felt weightless. You danced around the stage as Wilbur watched you with awe and adoration. Your cheeks were hot feeling his eyes on you the entire time. You sang the next line;

Kiss me down by the broken tree house

Swing me upon its hanging tire

Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat

You moved towards Wilbur and he turned to wiggle his hips to the beat. Trying so hard to hold back a laugh, you copied his movements. You couldn’t wait to see all the videos on your timeline the next day.

leaned against his side and began singing together once more;

We'll take the trail marked on your father's map

Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand, strike up the band

And make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me

You dance around the stage again feeling yourself in the moment as the last notes rang out. You didn’t even process the cheers and screams as you felt a pair of hands cup your cheeks and press their lips against yours.

Your eye’s opened in shock to see Wilbur was the one who pulled you into a kiss. On stage. in front of a whole crowd of his fans. Fuck it, you thought, and melted into his touch. His lips moved against yours softly and you could feel your skin set aflame.

Your arms looped around his middle and pulled him closer to you. Hours could have passed and you could’ve kept kissing him, but eventually you pulled away for the lack of oxygen in your lungs. Chocolate eyes peered down at you with such love you had ever felt. Wide smiles broke the two of you into infectious giggles you could barely hear over the whole crowd of people screaming all around you.

Wilbur took your hand and walked back over to his mic. All your friends were cheering you on as well, Causing you to blush harder at all the attention on you but it didn’t matter anymore.

“Well, that was a heat of the moment sort of thing guys, sorry about that,” his giggle echoing through the venue speakers, everyone ‘wooed’ in response. “Had to take my moment, y’know?”

Wilbur gazed at you out of the corner of his eye to see your bashful state. Squeezing your hand he said one last thing to the crowd before he had to move onto the next song on their line up.

“Everyone please give it up for my beautiful, wonderful, talented, girlfriend!”

You were most certainly redder than a cherry at this point. The crowd was loving every second of it. Hiding your face in Wilbur's shoulder from his side, he kisses your forehead before having to send you back over to your place on stage. You very certain your twitter feed will be insane the next day.

It wasn’t long before the next song started up and you were dancing along with Leandra. Wilbur gave you one final glance behind him and you blew him a kiss to which he beamed at you before he turned forward to continue on with the show.

-

taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez @joviepog

let me know if you wanna be added or removed! :)

#wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #fanfiction #writing #x reader #cc!wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x female!reader

[heartofwritiing]

Rest Easy

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

summary: Wilbur overworks himself which results in him falling asleep in your lap in the studio. based on one of an idea I had from this

authors note: I was feeling a little bummed so I wanted to write something quick and fluffy I hope you guys like it!

warnings: fluff, one swear, unedited, and not proofread, please ignore any mistakes!

The text you got from Wilbur when you were on your way to your apartment was short but sweet.

-Gonna be home later than usual, working on a bug in the studio with a particular song. don't wait up for me if you’re hungry love you <3

It was only around 6:45pm which was a bit late for him work wise. So, since you were close by anyways, and your stomach was growling to eat something, you headed straight for the studio a few blocks away. Making a small stop at the sandwich place on the way he always raved about.

You knew his order by hear so you didn’t bother messaging him, plus you wanted to surprise him.

Arriving at the studio you entered the control room, noticing the red light was on indicating the band was recording. You quietly shut the door behind you, and John-their music producer- swiveled around in his chair to give you a small wave. Everyone else you could see through the glass window in the recording room was chilling with their respective instruments as you guessed, waiting for instructions.

You could hear a backing track of guitars and drums play through the speakers, as the warm baritone voice of your boyfriend mixed in with the instrumentals lulled you into a state of comfort.

"Fuck," he swore through the mic when he messed up a line. It echoed through the speakers reverberating off the walls. He just wanted to get this last bit right and then they would be done. You couldn’t help the giggle you let out at his minor outburst of annoyance. you swore you thought he could hear you through the padded walls because his eye line met yours through the window, a look of surprise crossed his face. Lifting your hand that held the bag of food with a wave, his eyes lit up with alleviation and gratitude, he motioned for you to come in.

You somehow maneuvered your way passed all the wires and various equipment strew all over the studio without tripping. Wilbur Pulls you into and bone crushing hug after a few hours of separation he couldn’t wait to get his arms around you.

“You didn’t have to bring me food,” he says pulling back, giving your cheek a quick peck.

You give him a frowned look. “who said it was food for you, smart guy?” Jokingly of course.

Wilbur just deadpans.

“Come on, you went to my favorite sandwich place,” Wilbur lifted your arm still holding the take away bag to prove a point. He saw the logo of the shop on the front. “walked two blocks just to bring it to where I am.”

Damn, he caught right on to your ruse. You rolled your eyes playfully and threw up your metaphorical flag in defeat.

“okay, fine you caught me, I thought id be nice and bring you something to make sure you don’t starve, especially after such a long day, sue me.” You stepped closer once again to give a kiss to his lips.

Wilbur hummed in appreciation before leaning in.

“and that is why I love you,”

“because I bring you food?”

“precisely my love,”

Joe who was scrolling through instagram on the loveseat against the wall was listening to the whole exchange with a smirk pulling at his lips until he spoke up.

“You two are disgustingly cute,”

You pulled away from Wilburs lips reluctantly and turned your head to the amused Joe, who you didn’t even know was still here.

“we try our best,” you shrug.

You trudge over to where Joe was sitting and plop down beside him while Wilbur gets back to work to finish up this last line. Not knowing he was gonna be here you didn’t think about getting Joe something but he waved you off saying he would get something afterwards.

Watching Wilbur sing into the mic was a whole thing. He seemed so lost in his words when he sang, concentration purely written across his face as his throat muscles bob with each note. You thought he constantly so good but today he just looked so damn good. His hair was fluffed in a particular direction, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose and his eye brows scrunched as he pressed his full lip’s against the pop filter.

You felt so dumb at the jealousy of an inanimate object surging through you as you watched him wet his lips with his tongue and they brushed the mesh.

He must’ve felt eyes staring at the side of his head because, he turns his head in your direction with a smirk and that glint in his eye that makes your body heat. He sends you a wink as he finishes a word, then quickly puts his attention back forward.

Happily, about a few minutes later, Wilbur came to sit next to you, munching away at his sandwich. You both chatted away about your day eventually he had to get back to finish up the recording.

About half an hour later you were both still in the studio. Joe had already left but Wilbur was adamant to get this last track perfect.

"Wil, honey?" you called out, he lifts one headphone and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"I think you should rest, just for tonight, you've done so much and you looked exhausted, and it's getting really late we should head home." concern laced your voice and made him consider stopping for a moment.

You had checked the time once again peering at your phone and saw the time read: 1:33 am. But you knew him too well.

It wasn't fair of him to keep you here all night. You had work in the morning as well. Wilbur felt the guilt gnawing at his chest, the yawn in his voice telling him to rest. rest. rest.

"I'm sorry love, just two more lines and I promise, I'll be done.

He walked over to you and placed a kiss on your forehead quickly before turning back around again.

You always loved Wilbur's determination, but he sometimes could overwork himself to the point of exhaustion. Noticing the growing bags under his eyes and the grogginess increasing in his voice every day, you knew he was over-working himself. Non-stop for the past five days. The new Lovejoy ep was causing him so much stress, he put too much pressure on himself, which worried you immensely. He would go to the studio early in the morning, get home late, fall into bed next to you, get up the next day, and do it all over again. He was tiring himself out more than usual and it wasn't good for him.

You scrolled through your phone absentmindedly in the same spot, fighting off sleep. In your peripheral vision, Wilbur stood in front of you startling your occupied brain. He moved when you noticed him and he laid his head down in your lap, his long legs dangled over the arm of the couch before you could say anything.

Wilbur buried his face in your tummy as his hand snaked around your waist so he could cuddle into you further. It was an odd position he was in, but he seemed cozy.

"you tired?" you tilted your head, running your hands through his messy brown locks. Wilbur hummed at your touch and nodded in response.

"I'm sorry, I should have listened to you," he mumbles into your shirt.

Sometimes you hated his stubbornness, but you loved him so that made up for it.

Not even a minute passed and Wilbur was already softly snoring in your lap like a tired cat. You giggled at your boyfriend and admire his calm features, running the pad of your pinky down the bridge of his adorable nose and watching as he twitched at the contact. A faint smile spread on his lips. He looked too peaceful, so for now, you'd let him sleep. You were happy he was finally getting some well-deserved rest anyways.

"Rest easy, my love."

End

-

taglist: @justanormalfangirlx2 @merakiwi

#fanfiction #wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot #cc!wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #wilbur soot x fem!reader #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction

[heartofwritiing]

Dance with me

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

summary: you’re at a music festival with lovejoy, you and wilbur can’t help but be pulled together when a certain song from your favorite band plays.

authors note: I got inspired by this clip I think it’s from ash’s tiktok, its one of my favorite wilbur clips and for some reason the idea of dancing with wilbur at a music festival sparked within my weird little brain lmao. enjoy this quick fic as (i like to call them) my writers block is killing me ughh

warnings: none, just fluff, established relationship, reader is a member of lovejoy, very short, and unedited!

Sweaty bodies screamed around you, shouting back lyrics to the band that was preforming on the main stage you were just on hours before.

It was one of your favorite bands Arctic Monkeys. you still couldn’t believe you were here, only dreaming of performing on stage in-front of big crowds like this when you were little, putting on concerts in your living room for your family members. It was all thanks to the band you had joined a little over a year ago.

Lovejoy was looking for a keyboard player to only do live gigs. After some time and getting to know them more and more, watching them grow into their style and become best friends with all the band members. You had unofficially joined the group along with the other respective trumpet players joining on tour.

Now you were traveling the world, getting to see new places and having an experience like no other.

Wilbur and you had only met three years ago during quarantine, almost right away you knew he was the one. You had joined in on a call with a mutual friend to play some online game. since then, you had met in person several times, moved in together, joined his band, and the rest was history. Getting to travel the world with your partner was an absolute plus.

You rocked along to the rhythm of the guitars, the beat of the drums pounding through the speakers stimulating your brain. Ash and Mark, were standing to your right, bobbing along to the music with grins on both their faces.

Ash was filming the stage, panning around to show the camera Mark, who was watching the stage intently. Ash unexpectedly moved the camera to you noticing you looking at him and now was your opportunity to show off your goofy side. While still dancing, you started making faces, this caused Ash to hold back laughter.

You continued this, oblivious to the fact Wilbur was sneaking up behind you. You missed Ash's quick glance behind you, and a pair of arms came around your waist, pulling you flush against a person's chest. You let out a surprised yelp, you almost were about to elbow the person in the ribs for grabbing you but the smell of musky cologne flooded your senses. it instantly made you discover who it was. Ease came over you knowing it was Wilbur.

Taking a breath, a smile inched up your lips as he placed his chin on your shoulder and rocked you side-to-side to the beat of the music. You said nothing as you crept up your arms to rest on top of his, lacing your fingers together in a tangled mess.

Wilbur hummed as you leaned into his touch once the song ended, cheers erupted around you but soon died down due to the next song starting up with the rift of the gutair. Letting out an audible squeal you recognized the track, quickly spinning out of Wilbur’s arms to face him he saw the evident smirk on your lips as you took his hands in yours once more.

“Dance with me?” you asked playfully.

How could he say no to you? Wilbur noticed how your hips started to move with every beat of the drum, taunting him to move with you. Your eyes sparkled mischievously casting a spell and drawing him to your further.

Wilbur took your left hand and placed it on his shoulder. Then your other hand is in his. You felt his arm go around your waist and he began to move in a sway.

The crowd around you appeared to vanish. Having your arms around your lover was the only thing that mattered in your mind. He took you into a swinging step as the music got faster, and you wondered when the crowd had dispersed to make more room for you.

Wilbur spun you around quickly by the arm, causing you to trip over your feet. With a gasp, you collided with his chest. Giggles crawled out of your chests. He helped you stand upright as your eyes crinkled with happiness.

Your laughter died down, and he leaned his head to your level to press your foreheads together in a blissful moment of contentment.

Taglist: @trashcanduck @merakiwi @addxms @ax-y10 @scenefaez

if you want to be added or removed let me know!

#wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur soot x reader #fanfiction #wilbur soot x fem!reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #x reader #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #musicianbur x reader #musicianbur

[heartofwritiing]

Jitters and good luck kisses

paring: musicianbur x fem!reader

authors note: just a short little blurb i had floating around my brain if the reader was dating wilbur and she joins him on tour for support lol. more wilbur fics are cominggg!!

warnings: Wilbur having anxiety, fluffy fluff, pda, short, unedited! if their is anything i missed let me know!

pre-show was always filled with anxiety for wilbur.

He's not exactly sure where his anxiety stems from when it came to performing, but it seems to be a combination of various factors. His overthinking brain tends to focus on potential mishaps, like messing up lyrics or strings breaking. However, he has rehearsed and there's no need to worry about these things.

He tried to clear his mind by shaking his head, hoping to expel the constant noise bombarding him, but it didn't work.

The opening act concluded fifteen minutes ago, and he sensed the audience becoming restless and excited about his band's performance. This caused him to feel increasingly nervous.

Wilbur had always been eager to please others and wished for everything to go smoothly in every circumstance. He had no desire to let anyone down, especially himself and the numerous individuals in the packed venue that had sold out within minutes.

He was still on cloud nine from everything recently. his band was finally taking off and getting more recognition. He was finally making a name for himself and was feeling proud of all the hard work he had put in. He was ready to take on the world and continue to make more music. He was determined to stay humble and keep learning, no matter how successful he became.

As his loving girlfriend, you were immensely proud of him. You stood by him through thick and thin, supporting him every step of the way as he chased his dreams. To you, nothing was more important than seeing him genuinely happy, and his passion for music brought him just that.

Remember that you left to get water five minutes ago he is anxiously pacing on the side stage again, wondering where you are. You went to the venues small "dressing room", which consisted of a mirror, a sofa, and chairs in a musty old room that smelled heavily of cigarettes. He expected you to return by his side sooner.

For the past month, you have been there every other night to wish him good luck with a kiss and cheer him on from the sidelines. You sing along to every single song.

You could tell that he was at ease when you were around, observing him from the sidelines and listening intently to every note he sang. His natural on-stage presence was undeniable and it was clear to you that he was meant to be there.

You were always there for him as a comforting presence whenever things took a turn for the worse. Though he felt guilty about relying on you for emotional support, he knew that your love for him surpassed any such concerns. Your mutual support for each other was a source of joy and strength.

Wilbur nervously chewed on the skin around his nails while Joe next to him tried to calm his nerves as well. Meanwhile, Ash and Mark engaged in casual conversation. Wilbur couldn't comprehend how they managed to stay composed before performances. If they did feel anxious, they never showed it.

“How are you guys not freaking the fuck out?” Wil questioned Mark and Ash, as he now was fiddling with the pegs on his fender.

Ash just shrugged. Great input.

“I used to but now it’s like not as much, since when I'm out there it kinda goes away like a switch is flipped in my brain to not be as anxious,” Mark explains.

Wilbur could agree with that. He experienced the same feeling every time they performed. As Mark mentioned, a switch would turn on in his mind, causing the bright lights and muted sounds of the audience to fade away. All that remained were the sounds of his own voice and his bandmates playing passionately in his ears.

"Okay guys, just one more minute before it's time for you to go on!" The stage manager gave them a thumbs-up before heading backstage to ensure that everything was ready to go one last tiem.

Wilbur’s eyes fell back to the spot where he last saw you disappear and felt his heart beating against his ribs. Panic settling in again.

As another minute passed, he worried that he wouldn't have enough time to kiss you before he went out. Mark was the first to go out due to his queue, followed by Joe and Wilbur could hear the fans cheering as Joe waved to them.

Just as Ash was preparing to take the stage, you rushed in through the side door and approached Wilbur with an anxious expression.

"I'm so sorry. My mother called and wanted to check in on me," you explained.

Wilbur noticed your panicked state and approached you, moving closer until your chests were almost touching.

"It's alright. I'm just relieved that you arrived on time. I was just about to step out," he exhaled, feeling as though he had taken his first breath in minutes.

Being close to you again felt like he was grounded and not lost in his thoughts. Regardless of the time and distance, he always felt your absence and missed you dearly.

As you smiled at him, Wilbur felt like he could die from the sheer beauty of the moment. The apples of your cheeks were so round, and the look in your eyes made it clear that you belonged to him.

He loved you so much.

"Of course! I couldn't let you go on without a kiss," you playfully remarked.

His hands came up to cup your cheeks tenderly and you both leaned in simultaneously until your lips met. It was soft and had nothing but your love and admiration poured into it. It wasn’t rushed or heated, just enough time so that when he pulled away your lips felt tingly with excitement.

You took his hands in yours and kissed his knuckles while gently squeezing them, letting him know that you would be waiting for him after he finished his set. He took a deep breath.

“go be a rockstar,” you kissed his cheek.

As you stood before him, he leaned in and placed one last soft and tender kiss on your forehead. The moment was too precious to resist the urge to kiss you one last time. He held onto your hands until you were too far apart to hold on anymore.

He then turned around, his guitar securely strapped to his back as he strode confidently toward the center stage. The microphone stood tall and proud, waiting for him to deliver his musical gift to the eager audience.

You watched in awe as the man you loved nervousness instantly floated away, as Mark counted into the first song and played his heart out. You never got tired of seeing him be so in the moment when he presented himself in front of an audience.

Wilbur approached you after the show with his heart pounding in his ears and a smile stretched across his face. The stage attendant took his guitar, and he embraced you in a bone-crushing hug spinning you around You could feel the excitement radiating off of him as he set you down. Sweat clung to his shirt and skin but you didn't care.

"That was one of the best shows we've done!" he exclaimed. "The audience was really engaged and enjoying it. I'm so proud of the band!" His happiness was infectious.

He looked into your eyes and smiled. It was important for you to let him know how proud you were of him. You have told him countless times, but you never got tired of telling him.

"I'm so proud of you honey!" you beamed.

Wilbur left your side to go congratulate the rest of the team. the rest of the band gathered around to celebrate together as You watched on in admiration as Wilbur interacted with each of them so effortlessly You felt immense pride seeing how far they had all come in such little time.

You couldn't tell what they were talking about as they all nodded at something Joe had said and separated to get ready to pack up and get back on the tour bus.

There was a look of love appearing on Wilbur's face when he looked back at you. You felt a warmth in your heart as you returned his gaze. He returned to you and embraced you once more, burying his face in your neck. As he bent over you, your hands threaded their way into his damp curls.

"Thank you for being here, I honestly don't know what id do without you." he sighs into your ear.

Your heart fluttered at the softness in his voice and you tightened your grip around him.

"I'm glad I could be here. I love you," you whispered the last part so softly that you doubted he could hear it.

Until he whispered back so affectionately; "I love you too,"

You both left the venue hand in hand as you walked with the rest of the group to the bus to get ready for going out for drinks at the local bar to celebrate another great night.

#wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt fanfiction #fanfiction #cc!wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur #musicianbur x reader #cc!wilbur soot #blurb #headcanon #cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader #fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction

[heartofwritiing]

Hello!!! I saw that Lovejoy was being interviewed by MTV and I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is an interviewer and interviews them and Wilbur is like flirting with them the whole time, I totally understand if you don’t write it. You’re an awesome writer by the way:))

first omg thank you for saying im an awesome writer! i really appreciate it!! 🥹 second; THIS RIGHT HERE I will try my best since I don't really know how to write flirty but I hope you like it anyways!!

*I tweaked it a little that the reader is a fan of lovejoy but thats just me self reflecting… also this is unedited and kinda rushed so please forgive me if its not good and there are any mistakes!

musicianbur x fem!reader

-

“We are here with lovejoy at the biggest festival in new york city!” you didn’t try to hide your excitement as you spoke so enthusiastically into the microphone and looking directly into camera.

Lovejoy was one of your favorite up-and-coming bands. Working for an independent entertainment network gave you some advantages when meeting people in the industry you admired. But doing an exclusive interview with Lovejoy, you couldn’t wrap your head around. Since you first started listening to their music, you were so enthralled by their sound and lyricism, how could you not be a fan.

“How are you guys this hot afternoon?” you giggled and held the microphone towards the person standing closest to you, Wilbur. The lead singer of the band.

You would be lying if you didn’t find him attractive at all when you were standing right next to him. You couldn’t deny the nerves in the pit of your stomach standing so close to him that your arms bushed.

Following down the line were; Ash, Mark, and Joe at the end. They all chuckled at your remark about the weather and nodded in greeting.

“We're doing good! Just got off stage and feeling great! This is- well most of us anyways- first time in new york so we're excited to be here. ” Joe answered.

You nodded and brought the microphone back over to yourself.

“I was watching your whole set, and I gotta say, you guys were incredible! I am such a huge fan of you guys! I'm kinda freaking out that I get you to interview you!”

Other interviewers would always say that in apathetic tones but Wilbur could tell from the smile that graced your lips and sparkling eyes, your words were genuine.

“thank you so much, glad to meet a fan.” Wilbur winks. You almost stutter out the next question but play it off by clearing your throat, hoping the mic didn’t catch your falter.

“I know you guys love your fans, and they love you tenfold, so I imagine getting to meet them is such a great experience so, Do you have a favorite fan interaction?"

Mark was the one who answered the question first, but Wilbur wasn't listening to his response because he could not take his eyes away from you. In addition to being polite and praising their work so graciously, he also thought you were extremely attractive. Everything from your hair framing your face to your beautiful smile seemed to pull him closer to you like a magnet.

Wilbur's eyes burned into your skin while he watched you listen to Mark intently. You could feel him staring at you and it wasn't making you uncomfortable, but it made your pulse race in excitement. glancing at Wilbur briefly, He held your gaze for a few seconds before looking away quickly as he had gotten caught. You couldn't help but the mixture of thrill and confusion that washed over you. You knew something was happening between you two, but you weren't sure what it was.

Mark finished his response, then each member had answered until you had to hold the microphone up to wilbur for his reply.

"Yeah, I love every interaction I get with fans, especially when they're so genuine and lovely,"

You do not know why your mind automatically associated that with you, maybe it was the slight tone in Wilbur’s voice that gave you the impression.

At some point during the interview, Wilbur moved closer to you. Bystanders would see him shifting his feet to debauch his nervousness, but you understood what he was doing was on purpose trying to closer to you. The nearness between you made your face flush, and your heart quicken. You weren't sure what to do with yourself as every time you leaned over to let the others speak into the mic you were unintentionally brushing against Wilbur.

Sadly, the interview had to come to an end after you asked some questions that were sure to satisfy your producer’s. With an outro and a ‘cut’ from the camera man, you had called it a wrap.

Bidding your goodbyes to the band with firm handshakes and your genuine congratulations to their success you had finished your time with them.

When you turned to walk away to help finish packing up the equipment, a voice calling your name made you turn around in surprise.

Wilbur was jogging over to you with a nervous smile and reaching a hand over to you. He seemed like he had something on his mind he wanted to tell you so it was his turn to ask you a question. You waited with bated breath.

“I was wondering if I could get your number? if not I totally get it. I think you’re really nice and would maybe like to get coffee with me sometime?” Wilbur asks, shoving his hands in his jean pockets and rocking on his feet. It was honestly so adorable how anxious he was.

You on the other hand couldn’t believe the leader singer of your favorite band was asking you out- not asking you out- it was just your number and coffee. Maybe something more if you were lucky but, you wouldn’t get your hopes up.

There was no harm in accepting his offer to take you out so you simply said;

“I would love to,” Reaching for your phone in your back pocket, you handed him the device and he typed his number into your contacts.

Once he was finished, he passed your phone back to you and grinned, like he had just won the lottery he was so happy.

“I’ll text you so I can let you know when Im free!” you say, sliding your phone back into the pocket of your jeans. Wilbur nods.

“We leave in a few days, end of the tour so we get a few days off before flying home so i have plenty of time to see you.”

“Im looking forward to it,” you say and his smile brightens somehow.

With a quick hug and ‘message you soon’, you both say your goodbyes when you get an all clear from your crew the van is ready to go.

Wilbur went back to join in with his group falling into conversation. With one final wave as you both gave each other one last look of longing, you climbed into the van being greeted by air conditioning and sat back with a sigh.

You couldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach as you drove off from the thought of the next time you would see Wilbur soot again.

#wilbur soot x reader #musicianbur x reader #musicianbur #wilbur soot x fem!reader #fluff #cc!wilbur soot x reader #what has wilbur done to me i used apathy in this fic.. 😧😆 #fanfiction #request #anon request

[joviepog]

HIHI

SO

could you do a Wilbur x male reader where they're like at the grammys and reader AND wil both win grammts but like for different things, and their both just so happy when they get home and can relax and their just telling g eachother how proud they are?

Sorry if that made like no sense..!

💙🩷🤍🩷💙

AWEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA <333 Thank you @corner-of-void for the request!

—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—

Made it

Who: Wilbur x male reader

Warnings: nothing

Pronouns: He / they

Requests: @corner-of-void

Anything else: I had to speed run this so it is a bit short but I’ll probably do a part two! Also you’re an actor in this!

—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—

You and Wilbur went to the Grammy’s thinking that you both would fail. It was alright though, you us were just there for support and the fun. But once you two got Grammy’s? Oh god that was a crazy night.

Wilbur got a Grammy for his music and you got a Grammy for your acting. It was insane. You made a poorly planned speech, got the Grammy, took photos, cried. It was just crazy. While wilbur on the other hand had a paper made for the speech and he didnt cry at all.

That was fine though, because you two were completely different people and that was alright. The thing is, you guys couldn’t celebrarte too much because people didnt know you two were dating. So what did you guys do?

You left early. Without telling anyone.

“Wilbur c’mon you have to run faster!” You said with a Grammy in hand. “I’M TRYING Y/N!”

You guys were sprinting.

And what did you guys do once you two finally managed to leave?

You went home, took a shower, got into comfy cloths and popped yourselves right down on the couch.

You guys both let out a sigh before turning on the tv. The Grammys were on the kitchen counter and all the flowers too.

You both looked over at each other before laughing

“THAT WAS INSANE!” You laughed. “EVERYONE WAS LIKE, ‘Oh wow i cant believe he actually won.’ I MEAN,I CANT BELIEVE IT EITHER!” You continued to laugh, “I’m starting to believe i didnt deserve it.” Thats when wilbur stopped laughing. You wiped away a tear on your face and gave him a puzzled look, “Wilbur?”

He pulled you into a kiss and you melted into his touch. Once he stopped you laughed, “What was that for?” He paused and put his hand on your cheek, “To show you how much i think you did deserve it.”

You leaned on his hand, “You did great Y/n.” He continued, “I’m so proud of you.” You smiled and looked at him with loving eyes, “I’m proud of you too darling.”

AWE AND THEN YOU TWO WOULD JUST CUDDLE FOR HOURS WHILE WATCHING YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x yn #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x yn #wilbur x you #dream smp x reader #dream smp x yn #dream smp x you #dsmp x reader #dsmp x yn #dsmp x you #myct x reader #myct x yn #myct x you #musicianbur x reader #musicianbur x yn #musicianbur x you #wilbur soot #wilbur #dream smp #dsmp #myct #musicianbur #JoviePog

[shubblelive]

— BOTTLED UP

summary : wilbur's budding music career has undergone a multitude of changes since he first started. fortunately for him, you are not one of them.

genre : fluff

warnings : i guess there's one part that's slightly suggestive?? mentions of a makeout i guess, wilbur has a few Anxiuos moments, mentions of alcohol/drinking

pairing : cc!musician! wilbur soot x reader, musicianbur x reader

pronouns : none (you/yours)

featuring : cc!musician! wilbur soot

requested : Helloo! Could you write something where Wilbur's favorite thing to soothe his pre-show anxiety is to plant loving, relaxed kisses down the reader's neck in just a really silly way?

word count : 1.1k

note : maybe a tad too much worldbuilding, but what else do you expect from me let me LIVE

Whoever wrote “the lights are so bright but they never blind me,” clearly had not been to Sam’s. It was a dingy little joint with insane prices, but it was the closest pub to Wilbur’s flat and they gave Wilbur $50 a night to play guitar and sing a few covers. The lights directed at the “stage” in that place were enough to convince Wilbur he didn’t need glasses anymore because his vision was shot. 

He’d get up there, perform to a crowd of about twenty people (some of them were sober too!) and then crash before 9 ready to get up for his early morning retail shift.

It was a pretty good life, especially when you considered he’d just moved out of home and was also taking online classes for uni. Plus, there was his number one fan sitting at the bar every Thursday, sending him flirty looks and paying for his water.

He’d come along way since Sam’s. Performing at real venues, songs he’d written, not sweating buckets under lights so strong he could barely make out the shape of you at the bar (not usually).

That part never changed. You moved positioning with each venue. Oftentimes you were in the pit of people, off to the side with the less jumpy patrons. As they graduated to venues with seats and a real stage, you’d be off backstage with a bottle of water and a hug available (no matter how sweaty he was). 

It had been hard, his first few shows at Sam’s. Just a kid with a beat up acoustic guitar that was barely legally able to buy the alcohol he needed to even get up on stage. Said stage, a stool in the corner with a microphone that did more harm than good. There were panic attacks right at the beginning, quite a number of them. He would show intermittently. Slots at Sam’s were on a weekly basis, so some weeks he simply wouldn’t show up and ask for a slot. His anxiety would get the better of him, and then after a month, he’d suddenly regain his ego and he’d be back at it. In addition to the money from the owner (not named Sam), a lot of the patrons would leave tips for him with the bar manager (coincidentally named Sam), some weeks he would leave with over $250 for three days of playing. That would keep him going, he’d play for a few weeks and then someone would roll their eyes while Wilbur was talking and he would feel physically ill any time he even thought about picking up his guitar. 

But then, you showed up. It was during one of his ego boosts, he’d finally saved up for that electric guitar he’d lusted after for months. You had been dragged out by a friend who promptly ditched you upon seeing a cute girl from one of her classes. He’d seen you before, at student services. All his classes were online, but registration hadn’t been, and you worked the desk at student services for some extra cash. He’d tried to find you on social media but with just your first name on your nametag, it had been fruitless. He didn’t want a relationship anyway, he was fine with his friends, and his coworkers and his electric guitar, he didn’t have the energy for a relationship.

At least, that was what he said before he was dragging you out the service entrance to kiss you that first night, you laughing airily. He wanted to bottle that sound, needed it more than any liquid courage Sam could possibly overcharge him for. 

And thus, a new pre-show routine was born. A quick kiss before going back to his stool turned into a backstage hug as his crowds evolved from bargoers into fans - people who paid tickets just to hear his music.

Just a kid with his acoustic guitar was suddenly four guys with a two hundred million streams on spotify. Wilbur didn’t feel any different. He was still… just a guy. He’d swapped out his guitar, traded covers for originals, Sam’s service corridor for an actual dressing room.

The venue supported nearly a thousand people, and their manager had said they managed to seel over 80% of the tickets. That was an unfathomable amount of people to Wilbur. He’d quit his job and changed his act, but right before he went out there he was wracked with the same anxiety.

You were right beside him, your elbow tucked into his. His fingers fiddled with yours, nervous energy radiating off of him. He pulled you close, closing his eyes against the chattering from the audience, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You’re alright,” you hummed, voice light. That same airyness he’d started to crave over the last six years skipping right past his nerves and planting itself right beside his heart, right along with the rest of you. 

He planted another kiss on your temple, then beside your left eye. You were half-sitting on a vanity, the weight of your boyfriend comforting as you traced letters up and down his arm. “I know, darling,” he whispered, breath tickling your cheek as he planted another three kisses as he moved his way down to your jawline. His mouth ghosted up and down your neck as the band manager called out five minutes until opening from the hallway. You squeezed his hand as his lips came to a stop where your neck met your shoulder. He sat there for a moment, peppering that one spot with chaste kisses. 

“You have to get out there, go meet the guys,” If he didn’t know you, he’d think you were trying to be stern. Your voice was firm, but still oh so light. Just like the kisses, over and over on the same spot of your shoulder. He hummed in recognition, and the two of you stood there for a second. His mouth connected with your shoulder again and, before you could stop him, Wilbur let out a large exhale, the vibrations on your skin letting out a loud sound that startled you. You pushed him off, laughing through faux-disgust. 

“Wilbur!” He was laughing too, giddy smile beaming at you. He heard final call and knew his time with you was limited. He gravitated back towards you, mouth hovering over yours for one last kiss before he had to get out there. You gladly met him halfway, and he could feel the curve of your smile against his. “You got this.”

He smiled breathlessly at you as frantic knocking began on the dressing room door. He probably did, he’d be fine. Even if you were wrong and he didn’t “got this,” he had you, which was just as important. 

#wilbur #wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot

[shubblelive]

— THE BEST PART

summary : wilbur loves his job. he works long hours with an intense amount of pressure and no breaks, but he loves it. the best part, though, is having you to come home to, who makes it all worthwhile.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of food/eating

pairing : musician!wilbur soot x reader

pronouns : none (you/yours)

featuring : musician!wilbur soot, musicianbur, lovejoy (mentioned, not named)

requested : anything with sleepy Wilbur (preferably tired Wilbur after studio)

word count : 1147

note : here you go anon!! i hope you enjoy!! title stolen from an olivia rodrigo song lmao <3

the uber rides home from the studio were wilbur’s favourite part of the day. of course, he loved working on music, spending his day with three of his close friends making music was the best case scenario for how he saw his life working out. he had this manic energy about him, nothing intense, just that spark that you rarely saw in other scenarios. music made wilbur happy, happier than you had ever seen him, but you. everyone else saw the way he was with you. music made wilbur happy, sure, but his favourite thing in the whole world was getting to spend time with you.

you usually hung around the studio, working quietly on your computer on the couch out of the way. they were doing construction down the street from the apartment you shared with wilbur, and the rest of the band were more than happy to let you work out of the studio. it had been nice, getting to look over and see your face whenever he wanted to. you guys both had extremely busy schedules, especially with wilbur leaving to tour for weeks, even months at a time, so he took any excuse to see you in person, even if you were both just working separately in the same room.

however, the construction had finished, and you’d started working from home again. so now, wilbur stumbled into his uber after working for 13 hours alone. it had been the best part of his day when you were there. soft touches and quiet giggles as he’d rest his head on top of yours beside you. your hand gripping his as he relaxed onto you, the only sound the quiet radio, or the music coming through your earbuds that you’d share. you’d hold your phone up on low brightness and compare takeaway menus in almost complete silence. sometimes you’d cook, and you’d hold your phone up for wilbur to type in the website he wanted to order from and he’d just wrap his hand around it, bringing it back to your lap and pressing a sideways kiss onto the top of your head.

now, he was alone and anxious, completely exhausted from the day. it had been full-on, both writing new music and getting around to recording instrumentals from ones they’d finished. then there was two hours of meetings about their next album, talking aesthetics, tracklist and a bunch of other things that he really cared about, but didn’t have the energy to deal with now.

the ride home was loud, and wilbur didn’t have headphones. too polite to ask the driver to turn down the radio, he closed his eyes and laid his head against the backseat window. the driver ended up getting lost and, while wilbur held no anger at him for it, it was incredibly frustrating, and when he finally dragged himself up the stairs at nearly eleven that night, he already had an entire spiel about how he was so sorry he didn’t text you to let you know he’d be late, his phone was running really low and he needed it to pay the driver and was more than prepared for you to be mad at him for not communicating. he opened the door, dropping his keys onto the little end table the two of you had built one afternoon, you doing most of the work and wilbur reading you articles he found interesting. the entry light was off, but he could see light coming down the hall to the living room. he stopped by the bedroom, toeing off his docs and shedding his jacket, leaving it on the made bed, promising to pick it up later, before turning back down the hallway and reaching the living room. you were there on the sofa, a netflix documentary about someone he didn’t recognise playing on the tv. he sighed softly, taking in your cosy form before making his way around the back of the couch to come kiss you hello.

“hi, wil,” you looked more than happy to see him, sitting up slowly and creating room for him to take his place next to you. your head fell onto his shoulder and his fingers traced feather light lines up and down your arm. “did you have a good day?”

he nodded, letting out a small noise. “i missed you, though. not the same without you there,”

“need someone to pay for your lunch when you forget your phone,” you giggled good naturedly. that had been another perk of you working at the studio. no matter how hard you both had been working, when the group decided to break for lunch, wilbur would always take your hand and bid the others farewell as the two of you walked around town to find somewhere to eat. more often than not, he did leave his phone in the studio, but it was usually on purpose. nothing there to distract him from his time with you, as precious as it was. you didn’t mind, he always payed you back, not that you needed him to. sitting across the table from him at a random cafe, the two of you talking about everything from his upcoming music, to your work, to trips the two of you were planning on taking, was enough for you.

“needed someone to wake me up when we reached our place, i almost fell asleep on the way home,” his statement, punctuated by a well-timed yawn, made you laugh. “how was your day?”

“did you eat yet?” you ask instead of responding. he shakes his head predictably, and you go to stand up. “i made chicken,” his grip around you tightens almost imperceptibly as he lets you go, and you think better. “you okay?”

“just wanna sit here with you, if that’s alright?” you didn’t hesitate to sit back down and move more into his lap. you were facing him, the two of you cross legged as he hugs you. he can feel the weight of sleep pulling him down, aided by the familiar scent of your shampoo. your head rests on his shoulder, and you place a kiss on his jaw, right below his ear. it’s getting late, and he is hungry, but for now he needs to sit here with you.

“i love you,” he murmurs, and you squeeze him tighter in response. “thank you for making me dinner. ‘m sorry i was so late home.”

“it’s okay, don’t be sorry,” you’re barely louder than a whisper, but wilbur hears every syllable. “i love you too. you should eat dinner, though.”

“i will,” he assures you. and he does, the two of you sit on the counter together as he eats at nearly one in the morning, and even though he doesn’t get to see you while he’s working, wilbur still thinks this is the best part of his day.

#wilbuh #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur x you #wilbur x y/n

[shubblelive]

— PAGES TURNED

summary : wilbur is a quiet guy, but there’s so much more to him than he shows. over swapped shifts, post it notes and paperback novels, you unravel him bit by bit.

genre : fluff

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking

pairing : musicianbur x fem!librarian! reader

pronouns : none (i think) reader is described as a “girl” and using other feminine descriptors

featuring : cc!wilbur soot, musicianbur, college!librarian! wilbur

word count : 2.6k

note : sorry this took. one million years. i had my exams and i turned 17, and then i went out of state to visit family, but i’ve had this in my drafts and i’ve been working on and off for a while. i hope you enjoy this, i’m thinking about maybe making it multi part? if people are into that? @starsyoubreaklikesugardust <333

You sincerely regret covering for your coworker. The campus library has a consistent, albeit small, staff. You work the same days every week; Monday morning, Tuesday afternoon and Thursday morning. The head librarian, Theresa, was more than willing to give you extra shifts whenever you needed. The library was where most of the richer students’ parents donated, and you were insanely lucky to get your job there. As a result of the consistent schedule, you work with two people regularly; Henry, who shares your major, and Janine, who’s one of the sweetest people you know. The rest of your coworkers, you knew exclusively through Theresa and her insistence of having staff get togethers at any opportunity.

There’s Chastity, who lives on your floor, and her girlfriend Kate. You got a front row seat to their first kiss after three months of egging them on with Janine at Henry’s 20th birthday. There are three more workers that work during the week on alternating shifts to you; Sam, the newest member of the term; Hae-Won, the only person who had worked there longer than you and Theresa; and Wilbur.

Wilbur, who was currently your new coworker as you started working five days a week. Hae-Won’s mother was sick, and Theresa had begged you to cover for them while they flew interstate to go take care of her. You’d been working at the campus library since you were a freshman, and they’d always been good to you. You had agreed, and now you were needing to rush from class to the library after every single one of your lectures. Sam, Henry and Theresa had all assured you that if you were late because of class you wouldn’t lose your job, but you felt bad leaving them with all the work.

Wilbur has barely spoken a word to you since you’d started working the same shifts. He’s not rude or angry, just quiet as far as you can tell. You like him. You both keep to yourselves, and Wilbur doesn’t snitch on you for smuggling your sandwiches out of the office when you browse the stacks during your breaks.

He doesn’t get mad at you for being late when you are, and he always puts stuff on the top shelf whenever you ask. He’s soft, and incredibly smart. You learn about him through hushed evenings in the office, both of you dead on your feet after you’ve locked the doors, neither of you wanting to leave quite yet. The low light gives his eyes an amber glow the same colour as sun as it peeks through the slats in the blinds of the office, surrounded on all four sides by large windows. The fishbowl, the kids call it when they come in on Friday afternoons. Not quite, you think. You’re both too boring to be fish, you make a joke when you hear a young boy say it. Wilbur gets a look in his eyes that he keeps for the next hour until you confront him. “Sometimes people don’t look a fish ‘cause they’re interesting,” he all-but whispers when you ask, eyes aglow and top row of teeth pulling on his bottom lip. “Sometimes they’re just pretty.”

You get to know Wilbur over campus coffees, and handmade bookmarks inspired by the paperbacks he checks out every week. Through his handwritten post-it note on the corner of the main monitor at the front desk, a stack of books with a cat perched on top, his writing slanted but mainly kept between the spines of each book. A request for a novel you’ve never heard of, but vow to search for. Theresa is the one who handles incoming books, but that’s not going to stop you from finding it yourself.

You begin to find those sticky-notes around more and more. There’s one resting on top of your backpack for you to find as you return from the bathroom. That’s a pretty skirt, the first one says. You should wear your hair like that more often, one three days later on the stack of returns he’s asked you to reshelve. There’s one a week after that forces a smile on your face. This made me think of you. It’s resting on a tiny journalist style notebook, one where you flip on the top. It’s got a quote from your favourite novel on it, and you slip the sticky note inside it gingerly, tucking it into the front pocket of your backpack. That afternoon during your lunch break, you go to the craft store instead of staying in and get yourself some post it notes. Yours are in the shape of a lemon, and when Wilbur goes into the fishbowl to grab his stuff once your shift is over, he finds one stuck to the side of his bag. Two words, ten numbers, all in your handwriting. Call me.

So he does, he calls you that very night. Despite the late time, you guys stay on the phone for nearly three hours. The next shift you two share, you tease him. “I thought you were meant to be the quiet type,” you giggle as his ears turn pink, him intentionally facing away from you to shield the smitten grin on his face as he pretends to write something on the staff calendar. “You had a lot to say the other night.”

It continues that way for a while, nightly phone calls in which you finally get to hear him talk unabashedly about the things he’s interested in. He’s in a band, he confesses shyly one night when you’re both on the verge of sleep. You don’t reply for a second, and he thinks you might have dozed off. You pipe up after a moment, voice heavy with sleep and Wilbur thinks he can’t possibly like you more. “Your first gig’s Saturday, right?” He nods, even if you can’t see him. You keep going anyway. “I’ll be there.”

He wishes you hadn’t told him, because he spends the next three days stressing. Performing always makes him a little anxious, a healthy amount of butterflies, as his friends say. But this is too much. He changes his shirt three times on Saturday night, twice because he wants you to like it, and another time because he sweated through the third one. He blames it on the intensity of the lights, when the drummer asks him if he’s okay, but they can all see the way his eyes are locked onto your frame, tucked into a little corner of the underground bar they’re playing. They play for about forty minutes, and you’re a little embarrassed to admit that you’ve never heard a single song they did.

Wilbur goes into the little backstage area after their last song, and his bandmates will swear he’s never moved so fast in his life. He’s chugging a bottle of water while trying to wrestle his guitar off his back, his glasses fogged up from the sweat covering his face. there are a few bothersome strands sticking to his cheeks, but he doesn’t care about that. He just wants to see you.

He gets to your corner and the table is empty. No, the table has things on it. Your chair is empty. There is something on the table. He reaches it and flops down into the chair you were just sitting in. A waitress brings him a glass of lemonade that you ordered for him and he gulps it down gratefully. He allows himself a few moments to bask in the post-show high. You might not be there, but that only brought his mood down slightly. He did it.

He is a little hurt that you didn’t stick around, but it’s nearing 10 and he knows you have a test on Monday. He takes another long swig of his drink, and reaches blindly for the one other object on the table; a paperback novel. It’s his favourite. He didn’t even remember telling you it was his favourite, but somehow you knew. His heart hammers inside his chest and he has to remember how to breathe for a second. He’d looked everywhere for that, even going as far as to see if he could order it online.

He flips open the cover, just to check, and he finds a scrawled message beneath the title page. Heard you were hoping to get your hands on one. I hope you enjoy. You’ll have to tell me all about it.

And he does. It takes him less than a week to read the entire book, and he comes to you on a random Thursday, eyes sparkling with a glint you’ve only ever seen that one night he was performing, and he leans over the front desk where you’re standing and before you can even process it he’s taking your head in his hands and pulling you into a firm hug. You’re not as tall, so you’re on your toes as you lean over the desk, struggling to wrap your arms around his torso as he hugs you.

And then he’s talking, loud and clear, and if the library was open people would be giving him dirty looks for how unashamedly he’s speaking to you. You revel in it. He keeps his hands enclosing yours and you lean over the desk to get as close to him as you can, wanting to absorb every single word out of his mouth. Wanting to breathe it in and keep it between your ribs.

Eventually he lets you go to go do some work, but you decide at that moment that you never want him to shut up again.

So, he doesn’t. With constant encouragement from you, Wilbur becomes more outspoken. Of course, there were the phone calls, but he was still reserved in person. He seems to take up more space over the next few weeks, unfurling slowly like an old painting, perfectly preserved with so much beauty to show once he was out in the open. It starts as small things, the way he calls out to you across the library after closing instead of approaching you to tell you softly. You’re almost in mourning, feeling like you’d lost that closeness with Wilbur that only you seem to have. The notion that once you put something out into the world it no longer belongs to you. Not that he ever did, not like that at least.

You’d feel like that and then Wilbur would do something so small, so sacred, that your heart would ache. Whispering jokes in your ear, fingers brushing yours when he passes you a book he thinks you’ll enjoy, grabbing onto both of your hands when he got so excited about something that he needed a physical tether to you to stop himself from floating away, into the air that he was now filling so wonderfully.

The others started noticing it too; Theresa mentioning to you how much more confident he seemed after he’d left the room, Sam, who brightened now that Wilbur seemed to return his enthusiasm, even the bassist of Wilbur’s band, who you ran into at a coffee shop, said he was different.

His band got another gig at a bigger bar, and of course you were invited again. This time you planned on sticking around for the whole thing, letting him wrap you in a sweaty hug once he ran off stage. “You were so good,” you gush, your breath on his ear sending shivers down his spine. His hands ghost up and down your arm, and you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. “But, Wil. Seriously, enough is enough.”

He pulls away just enough to get a clear picture of your face, shadows covering one side, the dim lighting in the venue not doing enough to take away from just how pretty you look.

“You guys need to start playing songs I know the words to.”

Your fake annoyance makes him laugh, one of the most genuine laughs you’ve ever heard from him. Warm, and thick, like caramel. Like his eyes when the two of you are huddled together in the fishbowl and he’s laughing, like there will never be enough time to spend with you. Because there isn’t.

His hands stop in their motions, and he notices your bare arms. “You’re freezing, lovely. Here.” He steps away from you and shrugs off his button up, leaving him in just a white-sleeved tee as he guides your arms in. The sleeves cover your hands and he goes as far as to roll them up delicately. His face is an inch from yours as he unwraps his hands from your wrist, and your fingers toy gently with a stray curl that bounces when you release it from your grip.

This time it’s you who takes Wilbur’s jaw in your hands, fingers running over his stubble. He’s drunk, hasn’t had a drop of alcohol the entire time, but well and truly intoxicated as he pulls you into him again, nose pressed to your hairline. “I’m so proud of you.” You mumble into his shoulder, and for a second, time is frozen.

You’re both brought out of it by rousing cheers from Wilbur’s bandmates, the guitarist and drummer both bullying Wilbur for not introducing you to them earlier. The bassist greets you warmly, and the three of them try to convince you both to go out for a drink. Wilbur’s the one who ends up ushering you out, arm around your shoulders as he placates his bandmates. Throwing a “We’ve got an early morning tomorrow at work,” over his shoulder as he steered you towards his car.

He’s only half lying. You do both have work the next day, however the library’s closed and Theresa’s hosting a party to thank everyone for their hard work. It starts at two, so you’re revelling in the fact that you get to sleep in. That doesn’t stop you from inviting Wilbur up to your apartment, though. Nor does it stop the two of you deciding to watch a movie together on the couch in your living room. It doesn’t even stop Wilbur from whispering to you while the credits roll. “You look so lovely tonight.” You flush, tearing your eyes from his face, looking down at where his hands are on your waist instead. “Can I kiss you?”

It definitely doesn’t stop you from nodding your head emphatically, your hands delving into his hair as he presses his lips to yours for the first time.

He tastes like spearmint gum and the mango of your lip gloss, his hands steadying you both and gripping onto the couch cushion. He pulls away just enough to murmur, “You’re wonderful,” and suddenly you’re so happy you’re laughing. He laughs too, taking your head in his hands until you’re kissing him again, and when he leaves nearly two hours later he’s gripping your hands so tight your breath hitches, promising he’ll see you at the party later.

And hours later, when you’re sipping on lemonade and leaning against one of the windows of the fishbowl, he sidles up to you and leans his head on top of yours. “My pretty girl.” Your hand wraps around his, and the two of you stand there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, watching your coworkers mingle. He’d never been so outward in his affections, not when surrounded by people you both worked with. He was a reserved man, preferring to let loose around his family, his bandmasters, and you. But of course, that doesn’t stop him from pressing a kiss to your hairline, the two of you inside the library office, gazing outside into the rest of the library. “So so pretty.”

#em needs to shush sometimes #wilbur soot #wilbuh #wilbur #wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #wilbur fluff

[shubblelive]

— BROKEN RULES, BROKEN HEARTS

summary : you and wilbur play a game together. usually, that game doesn't involve him getting drunk and confessing his feelings for you, but there's a first time for everything.

genre : fluff

warnings : swearing, alcohol/drinking

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader, musicianbur x reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is referred to as a lady

featuring : musician!wilbur soot

word count : 1.4k

note : can you tell i'm a sucker for one character storms out upset and the other character tries desperately to convice the frst one that they're in love with them, but the first character refuses to believe it

it was a game you both liked to play.

traveling so often, you and wilbur found that more often than not you didn't sleep in the same city twice. so, to escape the monotony of finishing a show, getting a celebratory drink with the other members of the band and then going back to whatever dingy motel you'd managed to score two twin rooms in, switching who had to sleep on the couch because the band wasn't big enough to afford much better now.

wilbur couldn't apologise enough to you; he'd presented touring as this glamorous thing. come on tour with me, he'd proposed, it'll be exciting. a different city every night, front row tickets to see us play. please, for your best friend in the entire world?

you didn't mind though, you got to spend time with him, and that was all that mattered to you. so whenever you had an oh-so-precious 24 hours of no shows, you and wilbur took full advantage and pulled into the first bar you could find.

you'd both pick an accent, more often than not he went with australian (something he refused to budge on, insisting it was flawless). you switched it up sometimes, but had one that you felt you could immitate fairly consistently.

then, you'd enter seperately. rock paper scissors to determine who got first pick of the bartenders, and then the game began.

the rules of the game were simple.

you had to chat it up with your bartender, adhering to the strict schedule of drinks you'd both agreed on; enough to get you slurring your words but nowhere near enough to make you do something you'd regret. swapping with water frequently, and text check ins every 30 minutes. you avoided busy places and stayed in sight of each other constantly.

first person to have someone ask "what happened to your accent?" payed for both of you.

wilbur had won the game of rock paper scissors, so you stood by the curb for five minutes until you were allowed in. your eyes zeroed in on him immediately. he was flirting with a bartender, the same cocky smile that gave you butterflies plastered across his face as he told a story. he made eye contact with you for a split second as you walked in, but then his game face was back on.

you positioned yourself at the other end of the bar, your only thought that you were going to win; wilbur was toast.

wilbur was toast. the bartender he'd been chatting up had noticed the brief pause in his gaze on her, and had interrupted his story. "you might have more luck with the lady over there," she said. "i'm not really into dudes."

"what if i'm just looking for a friend?" he challenged, cheeks tinted pink that she'd caught on.

"you know her or something?" the bartender pressed on, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder as she leaned into him conspiratorially. "no one looks at a stranger like that."

you noticed the grin on her face, the blush on his as they talked quietly. you and your target had been talking for nearly ten minutes at that point and if he'd clocked that your accent was fake he hadn't let on.

you were having an enjoyable (read: bland) conversation with him, and eventually had started talking to the girl next to you. she noticed the band on the shirt you wore, and you kicked yourself. you'd gone into the bar with the name of wilbur's band plastered across your chest. you were only grateful that his face wasn't on it. she mentioned how she'd heard the name before, and you posed as a fan as well.

you actually had such a good time talking to her that two things had happened. first, you'd missed your checkin with wilbur. second, you'd completely forgotten about the game.

"were you..." she giggled, sipping on her drink as you finished yours off. "were you faking your accent?"

"fuck," you couldn't help but laugh. "it's a stupid fucking bet i have going with my best friend. i completely forgot about it."

you hadn't lost though, with the bartender wilbur had been talking to having noticed almost immediately. he considered her question. no one looks at a stranger like that. how did he look at you? sure, you were pretty, but you were his best friend. it was purely platonic, the way he looked at you. he was just protective.

"maybe i'm a hopeless romantic?" he'd proposed.

the bartender, millie, according to her nametag, had laughed. "a hopeless romantic with a shitty australian accent? you sound like a manic pixie dreamgirl."

"she happens to like my australian accent," wilbur let it drop, smiling sheepishly.

"my last girlfriend was australian, and she'd have laughed in your face the second you opened your mouth." millie snickered. "so you do know her? is she your girlfriend? no, you wouldn't be over here with me if she was. ex? not over her?"

wilbur wasn't listening. his phone had buzzed. you'd both been there for an hour at that point, and you'd only checked in with him once. he gave it an extra five minutes, but then excused himself. millie had just laughed. "go get your girl, casanova."

you were fairly tipsy at that point, and you were nearing the 90 minute cap - no one noticed after an hour and a half and they called it, each paying for their own drinks.

"hi, love," you jumped when he put his hand on you.

"fuck, you scared the- what's up? did you lose?"

"you didn't reply to my text." he said simply, holding up his phone. "got worried."

"i should be going," the other girl said. "you got my number right? text me," she smiled warmly at wilbur as she wandered out of the bar.

"you alright, will?" you put your hand on the front of his shoulder. "what's wrong?"

"i got worried that some creep had snatched you up," he mumbled, putting his hand over yours. "'specially when you look so pretty."

your gaze fled from his, landing on your shoes, with knocked against the side of your barstool nervously. "don't be mean, will."

apparently you were both a little more drunk than you'd realised. he frowned. "i'm not. why would i be mean to you, sweetheart?"

"you're making fun of me." you were fiddling with your fingers. "stop."

"i'm not." wilbur insisted. "you're so pretty."

you stood, wobbling a little. "stop." you repeated, tears pooling pathetically in your eyes. "stop it, wilbur."

"is everything alright?" millie approached. "you okay, honey?"

you nodded angrily. "yeah. you can close my tab. i'm done here," millie grabbed your card and you were about to pay when wilbur spoke up.

"i've got it." he'd upset you, and he didn't know why, but he did know that he'd lost the game. "i'll pay for her."

millie handed you your card with a gentle squeeze of your hand, and you took it from her. wilbur watched as you walked out, and it took less than ten seconds for millie to speak up. "what did you do, kangaroo-man?"

he sent her a look, and didn't reply as he paid for the drinks. "i don't know," he said finally, giving her a smile as he left.

you were just outisde, tears clinging to your eyelashes as you waited for a cab. "darling-"

"please don't," you said softly. "you had your fun. you're being cruel."

"by saying you're pretty?" he pulled on your wrist until you were looking at him. "because it's not a joke, love. you are so pretty, and i would tell you that stone-cold sober, and i'd tell you that in front of a crowd of people, so i am telling you here, outside this dingy bar because it is the truth. you are so pretty."

you paused. "you would? do all that stuff?"

"i'd tell the crowd at the show tomorrow if you asked me to, angel." he said sincerely. he was standing awfully close to you, and maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was exactly what he had been trying to prove to you; you looked so lovely under the flickering bar sign.

"you don't have to do that," you shook your head, voice so soft you were almost whispering. "just tell me."

your lips pressed against his and his hands went to the hem of your shirt, his name written across your chest on the shirt you wore. your hands went into his hair, pulling him ever closer. he pulled away just long enough to utter one breathless sentence before he was kissing you again.

"believe me, i will."

#wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur x you

[shubblelive]

— RED PEN

— summary : wilbur's next show is in three days, and he just so happens to be in the same city as you.

— genre : fluff

— warnings : literally just the word sex, one singular curse word, mentions of food/eating

— pairing : musicianbur x reader

— featuring : musician!wilbur soot, lovejoy (mentioned)

— pronouns : none (you/yours)

— word count : 0.7k

— note: reader is in early 20s in uni and still lives at home also i accidentally adhd coded reader

you couldn't find your red pen.

you were colour-coding notes, and you had put your red pen somewhere and you couldn't keep writing your notes without it. your window was open, letting a light breeze in on one of the last warm nights of the year, and you were looking under your bed for the damn piece of stationary.

it was dark, and you were feeling slightly claustrophobic, phone flashlight in one hand the other pushing things out of the way.

"what are you doing?"

your head shot up, hitting the underside of your bed and making you swear loudly. you had to do the awkward reverse-army shuffle to get out from under your bed. it definitely wasn't dignified, and yet when you finally got to your feet the man in front of you couldn't be more enamored with you.

"wha- what am i doing?" you spluttered, diving into wilbur's open arms. "what are you doing? i thought you were on tour!"

wilbur chuckled and stroked your back. "i missed you,"

you buried your head in his neck. "i missed you." despite the fact that will only had a few hours with you and wanted to catch up on everything that you'd been doing, he let you hug him for as long as you needed.

"what were you doing under the bed?" he asked quietly, knowing your parents would be asleep.

"can't find my pen," you mumbled, not pulling away.

as much as he didn't want to, wilbur pulled back slightly so he could look you in the eyes. "it's in the fridge,"

"why the fuck would it be in the fridge?"

he took your hand, and gently lead you down the stairs. "well, if i know you, which i hopefully do, then i know you always forget to eat. and you know this," he gave you a look and you stuck your tongue out at him.

he reached your kitchen, letting you sit on the kitchen bench. he pulled open your fridge. "so, in an effort to remind yourself you put essential items with food," he tossed you your pen with one hand and held up a tupperware container of pasta you'd saved for dinner.

he was right, and you hated that he knew your weird little strategies. he saw your frown and put the container down, coming to wrap his arms around you. "darling," he said softly. "i love you,"

"i am embarrassing," you said decidedly, melting into his embrace.

"maybe," he mused, planting a kiss on your jaw. "but i still love you,"

"i think i'm done studying for tonight," you put a hand on his cheek. "let's go,"

will was lying on top of you in your bed, your fingers scratching gently at his scalp. "how did you get in, by the way?" you asked as an afterthought.

"window," he said simply. "the rest of the band booked a hotel, but i knew i had to see you," you kissed his forehead. "like i said. i missed you,"

"are you performing tomorrow?" you asked gently, almost scared to hear that he'd have to leave.

"nope," he sighed contentedly. "next show's in three days, and i don't leave 'till the afternoon before. so i am all yours until then."

"what do you wanna do?" his fingers traced along your arms with a feather light touch you'd missed so much it ached.

"we could have sex?" wilbur asked, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling.

wilbur looked at you amused. "what's so funny?"

you snorted. "nothing, darling," you could barely get it out, wheezing. wilbur started laughing too until you both fell silent.

someone knocked on your door.

"everything alright?"

"mhm," you said. your parents understood you were an adult, and they adored wilbur, but you knew they wouldn't take too kindly to him sneaking into their house without them knowing. "yeah, sorry. just... on the phone to will. sorry, i'll keep it down,"

wilbur pressed his face into your sheets to stop from laughing, and as soon as your dad had gone he looked up at you. "god i've missed you,"

"ah shit," you said suddenly. "i forgot to eat."

#mcyt #wilbur soot #mcyt wilbur #🐈 wilby #wilbur x you #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x y/n #wilbursoot #wilbur dream smp

[shubblelive]

— WASTED TIME

summary : after a so-called 'boyfriend bonfire' gone wrong, your heroic neighbour steps in and saves you. well, saves may be a strong word.

genre : fluff

warnings : swearing , reader breaks up with their nameless faceless boyfriend

pairing : neighbour!wilbur soot x reader, musicianbur x reader

pronouns : none (you yours)

featuring : neighbour!musician!wilbur soot, tommyinnit (mentioned)

word count : 1.5k

note : loosely inspired by that one episode of ‘friends’ loosely inspired by that one taylor swift song. i’m a simple creature.

the worst part about your apartment was hands down the stairs. you lived on the fourth floor and in traditional sitcom fashion, the lift didn’t work. you lived in a more rundown area, with a large population of starving artists in your building. some days it was fine. some days you skip down the stairs, smiling at the older couple that live below you, their door perpetually open. but some days you were late for class, hurrying down as fast as you could ignoring how incredibly undignified you must look before twisting your ankle and coming crashing down to the bottom.

and some days it meant dragging yourself up three flights of stairs, gripping onto the wall for support as you furiously wiped away tears. your boyfriend, god, you knew he was an asshole. but for the last year you’d been explaining it away; oh he’s just a little rough around the edges, but he was nice. and he loved you.

jesus christ, he loved you? you were an idiot.

“you alright?” wilbur stood at his front door, hair messy and holding a newspaper. he took in your appearance, shirt crooked with your sleeves pulled over your wrists. tear tracks stained your cheeks and you couldn’t even begin to believe how much of a mess you must have looked. “hey, what’s wrong?”

“nothing.” you sniffed angrily. “i’m fine,” you fumbled with your keys trying to stuff them in the lock. “it’s fine.”

wilbur rushed to your side, putting down his guitar case and putting a hand on your shoulder. “hey, hey, hey. let me help.”

you dropped your keys into his outstretched palm, and let him open your front door. the two of you had lived next door for over two years, but you wouldn’t say he was your friend. he took your bag, including the folder of papers you’d dropped during your wrestle with the doorknob. he put your things down on the kitchen table as you collapsed at the bench.

a glass of water was placed in front of you and wilbur spent the next ten minutes rubbing your back as you sobbed into your hands. after you finally calmed down enough, you looked up at him. concern flashed behind his glasses and you felt stupid. you were stupid.

“i’m stupid.”

wilbur considered his options; he could reassure you, or ask if you were okay. instead, he went with a hesitant; “aren’t we all?” it worked, and you let out a watery chuckle. “you alright?”

“men.” you laughed mirthlessly, and wilbur did too. you sat there in your tiny sitting room with your neighbour that you barely knew while his probably extremely expensive guitar sat in the hallway because he was too busy comforting you.

“that guy was an idiot,” he said after a moment. “real dead-set dickhead. always knew you deserved better.” you sent him an appraising look and he continued. “i did! one time i saw you drop your mail and he walked in, saw you trying to pick it up, and just went upstairs.”

you remembered that. it had only been a few weeks ago, and wilbur had rushed to help you. “happens all the time,” he assured you as you went to apologise. you had thanked him and gone inside, surprised to see your boyfriend there.

“guess you beat me home.” you’d smiled at him.

“i don’t remember that,” you said instead. wilbur nodded. “you should get your guitar inside before someone steals it. tara from upstairs has been needing a new one of those,”

wilbur just laughed, standing up. he gave you a small smile and you mustered one up as you watched him leave through the open door. you let out a shuddering breath as you stared intently into your glass of water. what were you supposed to do now that your boyfriend was gone? you were alone.

wilbur knocked on your open door frame, devilish smile on his face. “you coming?”

so you found yourself on wilbur’s living room floor, sitting with your head against the side of his knee as you watched a movie. his hand was resting on his leg, and he wanted to bring it over to your hair, but he resisted the urge.

that one night turned into two, turned into four, turned into twelve. afternoons spent playing scrabble on his kitchen floor and nights with his friends. you met his brother (he gagged when tommy introduced himself as such), his parents, his bandmates.

mornings became filled with you, your perfume on his pillows, your cereal in his cupboard. his fingers tangled with yours as he kissed you. always gently, full of love.

wilbur wrapped his life so effortlessly around yours that it was a wonder you had both gone so long separately.

but, of course, you couldn’t be together 24/7, and that seemed to be the moments you made the worst decisions.

your ex hadn’t taken his things in the eight months he’d been gone. you’d been seeing wilbur romantically for the past few months, and decided it was high time you got rid of it. he was out with the rest of the band, writing new music, so you were left to your own devices for a few hours.

you gathered all of your ex’s things, and shoved them in a box, taking it out onto the balcony. you could have thrown them over the side, but that didn’t feel satisfying enough.

instead, you dashed back inside until you found the box of matches, going to see what you were working with. there were notebooks in there, old t-shirts and other small things like photos. you took out a metal water bottle, chucking that down the trash chute before setting the rest of his belongings on fire.

it was definitely how you had pictured it. slow and satisfying, sitting back on the concrete as you watched the remnants of your relationship burn. the night was chilly, so the fire was nice. you pulled wilbur’s jumper closer to yourself, eternally grateful to finally be dating a man who loved to hold you.

it kept getting hotter and hotter though, which you should have expected. it’s a fire, it makes sense. but eventually the flames started getting a lot bigger. you’d brought out a bucket of water with you, you weren’t that clueless, but even after you dumped it on the box it still burned brightly.

“fuck,” you whispered, wondering if you could leave it unattended to go get more water. it was more or less self contained, but who knows what could have happened in the next few minutes? especially if you weren’t there. “fuck.”

you studied it for a bit longer, hoping it would give you some sign of signal it was fine to leave. the flames were still fairly sized, and you thought about just making a break for it and coming back with as much water as you could.

you were about to start running when another bucket of water was thrown over the box, this time more or less putting it out. it was a big box, and a small section was still smoking. however it was small enough that you could at least grab more water without being worried.

your boyfriend stood in front of the smouldering remains of your little bonfire, breathing heavily and giving you an incredulous look. “what the fuck was that?”

“it’s called fire,” you replied helpfully. wilbur was not impressed. “i wanted to burn his old stuff he never got. finish the chapter,” you looked down, knowing he was probably going to give you a gentle lecture of some kind. instead, he stepped around the charred remains of your ex-relationship and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“you okay?” he asked instead, forgoing the lecture. you nodded, and he gripped your hand. “i love you. you know that?”

you nodded again. “i love you too, will,”

“it’s okay if you miss him,” he said genuinely, “i know you were together for a long time. he means something to you.”

you let out a loud laugh, your voice getting lost in the abyss of the inky sky, being swallowed by the universe. “that man is nothing to me,” you corrected him softly. “the only thing he was ever good for is giving me all this stuff to burn so that you could come to my rescue.”

wilbur laughed at that one as well, pulling you closer to himself as you sat on the concrete of your balcony. “i’d do it a million times over,” he said, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about the fire. “just promise you won’t set fire to my stuff if we ever break up?”

you pretended to consider. “i guess so.” he chuckled gratefully and kissed you once more. “the things i do for you.”

#wishing i could write my name on it #wilbuh #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot