#just two wilburs curling together

[mathanlin]

Hero AU where school counselor!Phil has to deal with… interesting students.

Namely, the three boys he sees constantly bickering in the hallways.

And slamming cars into each other on the news.

Ridiculously, none of them know who the others are.

But Phil notices the *moment* new young vigilantes start popping up. The trio’s dropping grades, spotty attendance, and injuries only confirm it.

Or, y’know. Tommy mumbling, “What would you do if you were a hero?”

Phil helps in the least obvious ways he can.

Modifying their grades to be a bit less suspicious, leaving out ice packs by his office door (easy to steal), writing late passes without a bit of resistance.

But he can only be so subtle.

“So, Red.”

Tommy’s head jerks up. 

Phil almost laughs. “You’ve heard of him, huh? I figure he’s your favorite.”

Tommy shifts awkwardly in his chair — readjusting the wound Phil knows lies beneath his sweater. “Better than the fuckin’ Blade.”

Techno. Honors student. Flawless GPA. Volunteer. And vigilante.

Far closer to a villain.

“If only I could give the Blade a lecture,” Phil says, unable to stop a chuckle, and barely managing to not say, *You two have to stop beating the shit out of each other.*

Eventually, Phil gives up on subtlety & calls them all down to his office.

“So. I heard you’ve been getting into fights.”

Wilbur, drama kid — or Siren, smooth-tongued — is the first to act, eyes widening. “I’m sorry, sir?”

Then Techno. “Mr. Watson, I would *never.*”

“Then what’s that?”

Phil nods to the bruise beneath Techno’s turtleneck — from a hit Siren landed. Then, to Wilbur’s knuckles, ever so slightly battered.

And neither seem to notice a thing. 

Phil pinches his brow, sighing.

“Alright. Then Tommy. Care to explain the state of your shoes?” (Burnt, melted from running through rubble the Blade had created.)

*There* it is. Techno frowns, leaning back to peek — and Tommy quickly tucks his feet beneath the chair.

“Nothing.”

“Where were you all last night?”

Every single kid tenses. 

And starts rambling out excuses.

“I was— studying, of course—”

“Well, *I* was trying to get ice cream, and that bitch the Blade showed up—”

“Bitch?” Techno cries before catching himself. “I think you mean *Red* and *Siren*—”

“What the fuck?” Wilbur splutters. “Siren was trying to calm those two fuckers down—”

“Boys,” Phil says. “Look. All three of those heroes would be better *together,* right? Not fighting, not hurting each other?”

“Maybe,” Tommy finally mumbles, toeing at the floor, “but… why are we talking about heroes?”

Phil tips back in his chair, face in hands.

“Come on. Someone figure it out.”

Silence. 

Phil groans. “Wilbur, you quit band two months ago. Techno, Tommy, who showed up two months ago?”

More silence.

“Uhh… I don’t know.”

“Techno,” Phil says, almost desperate. “You tutor Tommy, right? What happens after he disappears from your lessons?”

“I… go home,” Techno lies. 

Phil lets out an exasperated sigh. “No, you go where *he* goes. And where’s that?”

Tommy’s eyes start to narrow.

“You like Greek shit. Like… the Blade,” he says quietly, staring at Techno. Then, at Wilbur. “And *you’re* a pretentious bastard. Like *Siren.*”

Phil raises an eyebrow, fighting a smile.

“And you’re a little shit,” Wilbur snaps, then— pales. “Like… Red?”

“*There* we go,” Phil says, letting out a sigh of relief. “Now, I have a plan. If you three work together, I truly believe that—”

It’s a shame Phil’s office is so tiny.

There’s no room for three vigilantes to sufficiently beat the shit out of each other.

.

.

.

Just the idea of the three of them curled up at Phil’s, working on homework before heading off to fight crime (together, for once). 

Phil being their “man in the chair” (even if he directs them to safer areas, too worried for anything more).

And of course, the best (worst?) part of being a school counselor — the actual *counseling.*

Except it’s not about what classes to take, or bullies to avoid.

It’s holding Wilbur as he sobs after killing his first villain to protect his brothers. (Because that’s what they are, now). 

It’s comforting Techno as he fails his first class, too busy with heroics to focus or study. 

It’s reassuring Tommy when his brothers get hurt, always ready to defend their youngest.

And it’s crying like a father when they graduate.

It’s *loving* them like a father, his home always open to them, filled with medical supplies and bedrooms for each kid, newpaper clippings pinned proudly on the fridge.

There’s a reason the city’s strongest trio of vigilantes always protect one specific man.

#mcyt #dsmp #dsmp au #sbi #sbi au #threadfic #technoblade #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza

[shubblelive]

— INVITATION

summary : after a long day of work, wilbur is desperate to curl up and spend time with his favourite girl. only problem is you’re not speaking to him.

genre : angst -> fluff, happy ending

warnings : light swearing, mentions of food/eating, wilbur being mean

pairing : cc!wilbur soot x fem!reader

pronouns : she/her, reader is called a girl

featuring : cc!wilbur soot

requested : Could you do a wilbur fic where the reader is an overall bubbly, energetic person and wilbur just suddenly lashes out at her one day, and she apologizes and goes home, and wilbur tries to call her and apologize and everything in the end it’s just fluff and apologies<33 tyy

word count : 2.1k

note : hi anon!! i hope you enjoy this fic, it’s a bit longer than i expected but i’m very very happy with it <3 also you referred to reader using she/her so i used those pronouns in the fic i hope that’s alright <333

you were wearing his favourite jumper. it was yours - he’d swear on it - but you were adamant that it belonged to him. it had, originally, as most of your jumpers were, been his. but he’d given it to you months ago, and you were still promising that you were going to return it one day. he hoped you didn’t.

you’d been stealing his clothes for as long as you two had been together, for the last four years he had bought every single shirt, jumper, jacket, with the knowledge that you would steal it. it made sense, in your earliest days, when the two of you were long distance. you’d arrive at his flat for a week with a half-packed suitcase, and you’d leave with nearly a drawer full of his sweaters. but even now that you lived ten minutes away, you still had a habit of nabbing his sweaters. he didn’t mind in the slightest, and most of the time he would offer up suggestions for articles of clothing you could take. you guys had been together for nearly five years, it felt weird for him to be territorial on his clothes, especially because you’d return them whenever he asked, the scent of your perfume mingling on the fabric. he absolutely loved seeing you so happy, and if you stealing a shirt or two did that then he was more than willing to comply.

or at least, he was usually. now, he was running late for a stream and he couldn’t find his grey jumper. he’d been tearing his bedroom apart piece by piece in an attempt to find it so he didn’t have to walk through the rain in just a t-shirt. he sighed and sat down on his bed, remembering that he gave it to you when he went over to your apartment earlier in the week. it had been five days since he’d seen you in person, and it was driving him crazy. he had planned to spend the night at your place after his stream though, and that was pulling him through. it was fine, he took a few deep breaths and went to go and find a jacket to wear, already pulling up twitter to post the stream would be ten or so minutes late. he remembered to tweet out about his late stream, but he hadn’t remembered to text you to tell you that he would be late coming over. you’d organised for seven, which gave him nearly three hours of streaming time, and he assured you that he wouldn’t be going for that long. he ended up jumping on a call with some other people while he played, though, and that completely distracted him. leaving the office at eight, he had his phone on speaker as he tried to order an uber and call you at the same time. he was exhausted, and of course he wanted to see you and spend time with his favourite girl, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to reach your house without falling asleep, and being more social sounded like torture.

his jacket was rough against his arms, and he remembered suddenly about the jumper. your call timed out and he finished ordering the uber for his own flat, moving to text you and tell you he didn’t feel up to hanging out.

he opened your message history, and was hit with a message from you from half-past six, over an hour and a half ago. hi wil, you’d opened with, and he softened, knowing his annoyance didn’t really mean anything. my neighbours are being really loud, so do you mind if we meet at your place? can’t wait to see you. there was another two, each sent half an hour apart, a second one apologising for messaging while he was streaming, and a third saying, hi i let myself in i hope that’s okay. are you almost home? your most recent message was nearing forty-five minutes ago, and he cursed under his breath, cancelling the uber knowing it would be faster for him to walk than wait.

he reached his apartment out of breath and cold, and he couldn’t wait to collapse into bed. he still got to see you, and hopefully your smile would be enough to rid himself of any residual annoyance he held towards you.

he dropped his guitar case on the floor in the living room, calling out your name. “lovely? you still here?”

he heard a crash from the kitchen and took his coat off, slinging it over the arm of the couch. “hang on!”

he had a headache, and he massaged his temple as he made his way into the kitchen. you brightened the second he arrived, all but running into his arms. “hi, darling,” he needed alone time. he loved you, of course he loved. you were one of the most important people in his entire life, he absolutely adored you. but right now, he craved being by himself. you were here though, so he wasn’t going to make that your problem.

“hi, wil! sorry about the mess!” you smiled up at him. “i thought i’d make food? are you hungry?”

he shook his head. “no, you’re alright. want any help?” this time it was you who shook your head, and he kissed your temple before going to sit down on the couch, closing his eyes. you’d eat, and then you guys would be able to go to bed, and when he woke up in the morning you would be there, and he’d get to take you out for breakfast and spend the entire day with you. he just needed rest.

there was something you needed, and it was on the top shelf. you didn’t want to bother wilbur, he’d just got home, you could do it yourself. wilbur was much taller than you, so to get to his top shelf you would have to climb up on the counter. you’d be alright, you didn’t need to stand up or anything, just kneeling on the bench would be fine. you got up there with ease, but wilbur came through the doorway right as you started reaching. “what are you doing?” he’d been too loud, he knew that instantly, you jumped, and he had to rush forward and stop you from falling off the counter. “what on earth are you on the counter for?”

“i was trying to reach the bowl,” you said quietly. he stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“why didn’t you come get me?”

he helped you down. “i’m sorry, wil. didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted. he felt a flash of annoyance, and then kicked himself for it. you were never a bother, not even when he was exhausted.

“you should have asked for help.” he said simply. “do you need anything else?”

you smiled up at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to return it. “do you wanna watch a movie? i’ve been hearing good things about this one new one, here let me-”

“stop,” he breathed out. “i’m exhausted, and i just want to be alone, and you’re here, in my kitchen crashing around and almost hurting yourself! i can’t do this right now?”

your smile ebbed, and you took a step back. “why didn’t you say anything?”

“because i didn’t want to upset you,” he sighed out, running a hand through his hair. “i just can’t do this tonight,”

“you invited me-”

“you invited yourself!” he wasn’t yelling, no, he had enough patience to not be yelling at you, but his voice was raised. “i didn’t invite you over to my house into my kitchen, to wear my sweaters.”

you’d been together for half a decade. neither of you needed an invitation, you both knew that. wilbur had given you a key because he wanted you to let yourself in whenever you needed. he’d spent entire days in your flat without you there while you were away. this had never been an issue before, and he made sure you knew that.

you stood still for a moment before reaching down and pulling off the jumper of his he’d been looking for, leaving you in a black long sleeved shirt underneath. you tossed it to him. “because you never thought to call me and let me know you’d be late. by over an hour.” you were quiet, quieter than you usually were. your voice was loud, and bright and he revelled in it, soaking up every little comment you made, every “i love you,” every giggle, he adored it.

“because not everything i do has to do with you,” he was verging on cruel, and he knew it. “i had a long day at work, and i just want to be alone, but you’re here. so i have to cater to you.”

you didn’t reply, just brushing past him, with a soft “sorry” as your arm brushed his. you grabbed your stuff and left in silence, deciding on walking home.

he rested his forehead against the closest surface - the fridge - and swore under his breath. he was still holding your jumper, and he brought it up to his face, burying his nose in it. it smelled like lavender.

he fished his phone out to call you as he retook his place on the couch, cheek still pressing into the jumper. it was soft. he loved it. he loved you. he was such an asshole.

he called. you ignored him. he called again, three times. four times over the half an hour until he knew you were home and he knew you were ignoring him. his headache had increased, and all he wanted was for you to be resting in his lap, drinking you in while you watched your movie. he opened his phone again, not to call you this time, but instead to order an uber for your place. god, they were probably making so much money off him tonight but if he had to walk the entire way to your house, he’d collapse of exhaustion. he was there within fifteen minutes, thankfully this driver not getting him lost, and he payed with one hand as he bounded up the stairs with the other. he brought out his keys on autopilot and then remembered what he’d said, putting them down to knock on your door instead.

“darling!” this time he was yelling. he didn’t care though, he needed you to hear him. it took three more times knocking and five more yelled pet names before you opened the door. your eyes were red, and you had changed into softer clothes, these ones all belonging to you. “i’m so sorry,” the words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. “i’m sorry i got angry, i’ve been so tired recently and that’s not your fault nor your problem, but i took it out on you and you don’t deserve that, lovely.”

“i didn’t want to bother you,” you said softly, voice barely above a whisper. he took a step closer to you hesitantly, and when you didn’t step back he wrapped his arms around you.

“you’re never a bother,” he said, voice pouring with affection to make up for his thoughts betraying him earlier. “i love you more than anything. i’m sorry i didn’t show you that tonight,”

“i’m sorry for going in without you telling me,” you said.

he shook his head vehemently. “i gave you a key, lovely. i gave you a key because any space with you is better than one without.” he took your face in his hands and made you look at him as he spoke, trying to get you to absorb every word he was saying. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you, and i can’t do that if you can’t get into my house.”

you looked like you were about to start crying again, and he kissed you gently. “i’m sorry,”

“don’t be sorry,” he assured you. “just let me in? i want to watch a movie with you.” your smile came back, if only slightly, and he knew he was making progress. you brightened up every room you were in, and even if you were a little loud, and too bubbly, and you stole his sweaters, he wouldn’t want you to be any different. he kissed you again, slowly and gently and when he pulled back your eyes were sparkling. “lovely?” you hummed to show you were listening. “when we get a place together, promise you won’t climb on the counters?”

“i don’t know if i can commit to that,” you said, laughing softly. “but i’ll see what i can do.”

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

[wilbursprincess]

“You’re Mine, and I Own You”

Simpbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Oral sex (F & M recieving), Dom!Simpbur, Sub!Reader, reader is a bit of a brat, edging (if you squint), fingering

Hi 😅 I pulled this fic out my ass and hope it’s not too bad for my first post I’ve written myself! I really liked the idea of writing a bratty reader (definitely not based off myself) and now you have this fic. Enjoy the first time Simpbur has ever been dominant.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!!

I’m woken up from my dozing on the sofa to my phone buzzing in the pocket of my hoodie. Through eyes blurry from sleep, I see some messages from Wilbur, who, last I saw, was in our bedroom.

Will: hey

Will: you should definitely wake up

Will: bc look what i woke up with

Will: Attachment: 1 Video

I open what looks like an innocent video, the thumbnail black, expecting to see one of our cats curled against his shoulder or his bedhead. However, it’s far from innocent.

The video opens with Wilbur’s body from the stomach down under our duvet, and he reaches down to pull the covers off. He’s rock hard through his sweats, reaching down to palm at himself through the fabric, and the sight makes me press my thighs together.

Will: if you don’t wake up soon

Will: then i’ll have to take matters into my own hands

Will: Attachment: 1 Video

I almost drop my phone in my hurry to open the second video, groaning out loud as I watch Wilbur pull his waistband down just enough to get his cock out. Slowly, he strokes up and down his shaft, letting out a tiny moan as his thumb twists over the tip.

My phone clatters to the floor as I leap off the couch, sprinting down the hallway and flinging open the bedroom door. Wilbur’s tucking himself back into his sweats as I enter, giving me a knowing grin.

“All it takes to wake you up is my rock-hard cock, huh?” He says smugly, folding his arms over his bare chest. “Should’ve known better than to fall asleep in grey sweatpants-”

Wilbur cuts himself off as I climb onto his lap, oversized shirt I stole from him falling off my shoulder and panty-covered pussy sat directly on his boner. We groan in unison, sloppy kisses on each other’s mouths as I slowly rub myself along his clothed shaft.

“Take your panties off,” he murmurs between heated kisses. “Want you in nothing but my t-shirt.”

I oblige.

“Good girl,” Wilbur coos, running his fingers through my drenched folds. “All bare and pretty, just for me.”

Two fingers slide inside me, curling to hit the perfect spot, with his thumb roughly rubbing on my clit. I cry out, burying my face in his shoulder, pleasure so intense that starts practically swirl in my vision.

“Gonna come for me, princess?” Wilbur teases, swirling around my clit and speeding up his fingers. “Got you all worked up just from seeing my cock?”

I nod.

“Words, darling.”

“Yes, Will-” I manage, cutting off with a gasp. “I’m- I’m gonna-”

He softly snickers. “You’re gonna cum, huh? Gonna make a mess out of my fingers and pretend they’re my cock?”

The familiar feeling builds in my core, pleasure tightening and swirling, and just as the climax is about to rip through me, Wilbur stops.

“Will!”

“You really thought I was going to let you cum before me, darling?” He says, smooth voice lit with a teasing note. “On your knees and wrap those pretty lips around my cock for me?”

With a voice like his, I’d do anything.

The hard wooden floor stings my knees as I drop down, looking up at Wilbur to see him licking my arousal off his fingers. Reaching into his sweats, I tug his cock out and give the tip a few kitten-licks, salty pre-cum shining on my lips.

“Open your mouth.”

I blink up at him with expectant eyes, mouth open and waiting. Wilbur taps his cock on my tongue a few times before grabbing a fistful of my hair, gently guiding my head down to take his length into my mouth.

“You know what to do, darling.”

Eagerly, I start to bob my head, letting him slide his way deeper into my throat. When he’s as deep as I can take him, I really get to work, stroking where my mouth can’t reach as my tongue drags lazily up and down his cock.

Wilbur groans, eyes softly closed and head tilted back. “So good, baby,” he murmurs, caressing my cheek as he praises me. “Such a good girl for me.”

I pull back to give my jaw a rest for a moment, gently circling the very tip with my thumb while the other hand keeps giving him long, slow strokes.

“Tell me you’re mine, and I own you,” Wilbur teases, a smirk lighting up his face.

I give him my best bratty grin. “You’re mine, and I own you.”

“I should’ve remembered how bratty you can get,” he says, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Can’t talk back when you’ve got your mouth stuffed full of my cock, can you?”

I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, Wilbur forces his length back into my mouth, stopping just before I gag. “That’s better,” he murmurs, clearly pleased with himself. “Back to work for me.”

As much as I love being under the covers with him, there’s something otherworldly about Wilbur loosing his dominant side the closer and closer he gets to cumming. His hands clenched into shaky fists, swallowed moans and feeling him resist thrusting into my mouth is something I’ll never get sick of.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, cock twitching on my tongue. Wilbur’s hips jump up, and he almost whimpers when I take him even deeper. “I’m so close.”

I don’t let up my pace one bit as he pushes into his orgasm, not bothering to stop the moans dripping from his mouth as he spills down my throat. He tugs me off his cock with a fistful of my hair, both of us panting and sweaty.

“Get on the bed,” Wilbur pants with a nod of his head as he tucks himself back into his pants. “Need my face buried in that dripping pussy.”

It’s his turn to kneel on the floor, half-hard cock pressing at his sweats as he presses kisses onto my inner thighs, giving me one long, slow lick right up my slit. My hands grasp his slightly damp curls and tug, urging him silently to keep going.

After my ruined climax earlier, every tiny lick or touch from him feels like pure escasty. My legs are tossed over Wilbur’s shoulders, day-old stubble scratching at the soft skin.

For the second time that day, my orgasm builds up, and I’m crying out his name as I expect to be pushed over into my blissful release. But he stops. Again.

“Will!” I groan, trying to grind onto his tongue, still chasing my high. “Why?”

He gives my clit the tiniest lick, and I almost scream. “Don’t you remember being bratty to me earlier? That’s what you get.” Just to rub it in further, another tiny lick. “You have to remember you’re mine.”

I’m in for a long night.

#princesswrites #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur x reader #wilbur smut #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #pulled this out my ass #smut #mcyt smut #princessfics

[modelbus]

Heyy! Could you do Wilbur x artist!reader dating hcs because a musician and an artist? I feel like Y/N like Wilbur makes so much art of him to the point she actually probably made one of their lovejoy posters!! And Wil would teach Y/N guitar and Y/N teach Wil how to draw and its so SDHDSGJ

I'm an artist and I think this would be cute! Hope you can answer this ask <3

- 🍄anon :D

I’m not an artist myself, but my two artist friends came in clutch here!

Pairing: Cc!Wilbur x Gn!Artist!Reader

Adored Artist

Idle drawings of Wilbur completely fill your sketchbook. Him playing guitar. Him sitting there. A specific doodle of him with a large forehead— for the joke.

The two of you tend to sit together without talking. You drawing, him creating Melodies and lyrics.

Getting showered in compliments.

He talked about decorating his guitar once, and you drew nothing but guitar designs for the next week.

His callouses and your graphite-stains are jokingly called “battle wounds” together.

When Wilbur buys you art supplies as gifts, he is painfully meticulous in making sure the supplies are good and ones you like.

Him peering over your shoulder to see what you’re working on, always delighted when it’s something related to him. Whether that be a simple guitar sketch for practice, or actually him.

And 100% yes he’d be yoinking your drawings to use for Lovejoy or merch reasons.

“Hey Love, remember that drawing you did the other night?” He asked, leaning against the couch where you’re curled up with a sketch pad. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that, Wil.” You had laughed, finishing part of the sketch and looking up at him. He laughs too, leaning down to kiss you. “The one with the Lovejoy mascots. And our skull.” He had elaborated for you. Your eyes had lit up, flipping to the page for him. “Yes! That one. I was thinking, maybe it’d be cool to use as a design for merch?”

You couldn’t believe it, that he actually wanted to use your drawings. But, when you realized he was serious, you jumped at the chance.

(He insisted on paying you for it, too, even though you assured him you were perfectly happy giving him the designs. For two weeks you played a game where you passed the money back and forth until you gave up and just accepted it)

He doesn’t shut up about you or your talents ever. Met someone new? He’s pulling out his phone to share your art. Saw someone online talking about art? He’s tagging you to say you’re the best artist ever.

Teaching each other <333

Wilbur had made a small comment, and you jumped on it.

”I wish I could draw like that. You’re so talented, you’re incredible.” “I can teach you.” “What?”

Did not go well at all.

“Imagine that the light is here, okay? So you have to shade where shadows would be, making it darker there.” You explained patiently, gently tapping the areas you’re talking about.

“Shadows. Darker. Shading.” Wilbur repeated, looking up at you. You were leaning on him, your head on his shoulder to see his drawing. A very… admirable attempt at you.

“Go for it.” You encouraged, and he blinked.

“What?”

“…Were you listening?”

“Of course I was, love.” But the way he had leaned in to kiss you—to distract you—certainly said otherwise.

Since you “made” him draw, he convinced you to learn how to play guitar.

You protested (secretly loving the idea of learning from him) but in the end he got you to agree.

Sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around you to help you form the chord shapes. It’s cozy, and you’re absolutely failing.

“This is a G—“ “My fingers don’t do that, Wil!”

In the end, it turns into him playing a song for you. But only after you manage to make that G chord, finger pain be damned.

He loves putting up your art on the walls. Taped.

#dsmp #mcyt #mcyt imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur imagine #wilbur #wilbur x reader

[heartofwritiing]

i loved your latest fic! could you do maybe contentcreator!reader and wilbur maybe going on their first date? or maybe helping her move into her new flat after permanently moving to Brighton as mentioned in your fic? tysm!

By the Sea

paring: cc!wilbur x fem!cc!reader

summary: you move to brighton, and wilbur helps you move into your new apartment. a part two to this work :)

authors note: sorry this took me soo long to get out, i hope you like it anon! i have barely any motivation to write, this was kinda thrown together. i’m not sure what to do :/

happy valentine’s day lovely followers :) 💌

warnings: not much just fluff, reader is an overthinker, short, super unedited!

Bringing up the last of the boxes up to your new apartment, you drop the box in your arms on top of another with an exasperated sigh. You were finally done climbing up three flights of stairs and could catch your breath.

You would have to remind yourself next time to find a place on the ground floor with availability, because this was insane.

You didn’t even want to imagine carrying groceries up every week now. Thank god for delivery apps…

Moving to Brighton was a plan months in the making. Countless visits to check out apartments in your price range, searching different parts of town you liked better than others took trial and error.

Eventually, you had found a perfect place not too far from your best friend Wilbur's place, who had been with you every step of the way through this whole process.

Wilbur was one of the reasons you were moving to another country in the first place. He had convinced you after your first visit last year to move in after you made a comment about wanting to move to the town by the sea after only visiting once.

Which was crazy, so you waited a year before making such a big decision. Speaking off;

You can hear grunting and panting coming from down the hall and you completely forget about your best friend who was helping you move in. Wilbur comes around the corner of the hall carrying the very last box in his lanky arms with a bead of sweat running down from his forehead.

His curls sticking to his skin showed he had worked up just as much of a sweat as you and you feel guilty making him carry some of your heavier things. He kicks your front door closed with his foot and places it on the kitchen counter with a thud.

As he makes his way to the couch, taking off his sweater you catch his shirt riding up to reveal skin before he fixes it. A blush rises to your cheeks and quickly spreads. Thankfully, he didn't notice you staring when he flops down next to you and sighs with his head thrown back against the couch cushions.

"Remind me to hire movers next time." you laugh, still out of breath.

Wilbur turns his head to you.

"You sure know how to make a guy break a sweat, darling," he hums.

A blush rises on your cheeks at the implication of his words. He laughs with a crinkle around his eyes with a mischievous grin.

You're looking forward to more moments like these with him. Butterflies flutter around your tummy knowing that you’ll have so many more.

You can't help the guilt creeping up for making him carry all these cardboard boxes with your life held inside. Thinking maybe he thought you were taking advantage of him.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this, how can I make it up to you?"

Wilbur frowns, takes your hand resting by your side, and laces your fingers together with his. You had only been here a week, but over time you visited, Wilbur had gotten bolder with his touches.

Hand-holding wasn't new to you both, since that first night you'd met in person it had become second nature after admitting your feelings. You both had become accustomed to it quickly, opting to grab the other's hand in stressful situations or just as a comfort and reassurance.

"You didn't drag me into anything, If I didn't wanna help you I wouldn't have," he promised. "You don't have to make anything up to me."

“but-“

“Nope, I won’t allow you to feel guilty over this.” Wilbur reaches his free hand up to boop your nose.

With a pout set over your lips, knowing you weren't in the mood to argue with him further. You scoot closer to him and lean your head on his shoulder to peer up at him and admire his side profile.

The shape of his nose was adorable from this angle, coming to a soft point that made you wanna kiss it.

Your gaze trailed down to the stubble around his jaw and before you even thought about it, you instinctively reached your free hand up to feel the slight scratch against your finger tips.

Wilbur didn’t swat your hand away, only turned his head so you had better access to move your nails to scratch lightly.

"But I wanna make it up to you," you say under your breath. Not sure if he heard you, your eyes met his again in question.

There’s a look in his eyes that tells you he wants to tell you what he wants. You would do anything for him. Without hesitance. Which sounded insane in your head.

Wilbur scoots down so he’s level with your face, and your suddenly so aware how close he is. Your knees touching and your hands still tangled together.

“tell you what? how about you let me take you out on a date?” he asks smoothly. “Then we’ll call it even, darling.”

You don’t know what to say. You weren’t expecting him to offer to take you on a date. A real date with your best friend. A night out together where you wouldn’t be surrounded by your other friends.

You swear you catch his eyes flicker down to your lips for a second. It would be bold of you to lean forward and kiss him right now, so you hesitate leaning forward.

Oh how you’ve wanted to since you first saw him last year, but you couldn’t. It would’ve ruined everything. If only you knew how much he wanted it too.

A date with him sounded wonderful but, you were too tired to even think about getting yourself all dressed up to go out tonight.

“how bout we order pizza, stay in and watch youtube videos for tonight.” you suggested.

“I’d say you got yourself a deal.”

taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet

@loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41

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

[loversj0y]

stoner wilbur

you decide to start being more outgoing, though after a party doesnt go perfectly to plan, a classmate is there to help you out a bit

wilbur soot x reader

this is lil gift for @lyssys

tw for smoking, marijuana, and mentions of being overwhelmed. also slight suggestive material

word count: 2.1k

pls do not smoke unless u are of legal age and live in a place where it is legal for you to <3

You weren’t one to usually go to house parties. They were gross, full of way too many people, and entirely overwhelming. However, you made an exception this time because you decided, with the new year and the new semester starting, that you wanted to get out more. Your number of friends were quickly dwindling down, so your resolution was to do better: start saying yes instead of no (as long as you were comfortable and safe). You felt more comfortable and safe going to this party than most of the ones you’d heard about recently. It was being thrown by some first-year undergrads, so unlike some cheap frat party, you actually had a bit of hope. You were older than most of the people at the party, but there were of few of your classmates there, so you didn’t feel entirely out of place. The party’s hosts were loud, and when you’d seen them at first, you geniunely thought that they were some year twelves who’d snuck in. However, you quickly realized that these were, in fact, the people throwing the party, considering how one of them, Tommy, had run up to you and handed you a bottle of beer, calling it “compliments of the host” as if he was some Gatsby-ian party thrower and not an 18 year old trying to leave a good impression on the older students. The beer was cheap, but not horrible, you’d certainly had worse, but it was when you finished drink two – a cup of their finest jungle juice, Tommy noted – that you started to feel just how overwhelming the whole environment was. You could feel the bass in the music through your skull, and you found a way to escape the bright LEDs by slipping through the door to the back yard. 

You took a deep breath, pleased by the much calmer atmosphere of the backyard. There were Edison bulb string lights hung up around the backyard, giving it a nice glow, as well as a small table with a few seats. There were a few people, but they seemed to corral themselves towards the left side of the fence. It was such a stark contrast to the inside, and you felt chilled by the outside air, though it was more likely the lack of people accounting for the temperature change. As you took a deep breath, wanting to steady yourself, you heard a voice from behind you.

“Y/N?” 

You turned quickly. It was one of your classmates, you knew that, but you struggled to place him for a moment. He was leaning against the wall cooly, one hand fiddling with a small metal container. He was tall, with soft brown curls that fell in front of his face. It hit you after a moment. 

“Wilbur, right? From sound editing?”

He nodded, his face seemingly lighting up when you remembered him. You walked over, hands in your pockets, standing at a slight distance. 

“What are you doing here? Not to sound rude, but you’re the last person I expected to see in a place like this.”

“I could ask you the same,” he chuckled softly, “but Tommy is my… not brother, but he may as well be. We grew up together. He invited me, and I didn’t want to say no.”

You nodded softly. “That makes sense. He’s quite a loud one. Never would’ve expected the two of you to be close.”

“Trust me, I question it every day.” He smiled, and you don’t know how you never noticed just how nice of a smile he had. “What about you?”

“Hm?” You had to bring yourself back to the conversation, a bit distracted by him, “Oh. I’ve been trying to say yes to more things. Be more outgoing and stuff. Really make the most of the whole ‘University Experience.’” You joked lightly. 

“Oh, yeah? How’s that been working out for you?”

“Well… this is my first time actually doing anything different, so it’s only up from here, I suppose.”

He nodded, smiling a bit, “What are you doing out here then? Not exactly being outgoing if you’re standing out here alone.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m alone,” you smiled up at him, the alcohol in your system making you a tad bit more bold than normal. Then you sighed lightly, answering his question, “I got a bit overwhelmed. As you noticed, this isn’t exactly my environment.”

“Ahh,” he nodded, making a noise of understanding. “I know what you mean. I got the same feeling, actually. Hence why I’m out here,” He brought a hand up, adjusting the beanie on his head. He lifted the metal container in his hand, “to calm down.”

You gave the container a better look now in the light, recognizing it as a cigarette tray. “Cigarettes? I didn’t think you’d be the type”

“Not cigarettes,” he chuckled lightly. He opened it up, pulling out a joint. Oh. “Do you smoke?”

You shook your head, “Uh, not really, I’ve done it a few times, but I-”

“Sorry, let me rephrase. Do you want to smoke?”

You looked up at him. This boy, who had no business being this cute and who you shared one class with, was offering for you to get high with him. You thought back to your oath of saying yes more often. Well, he didn’t make you uncomfortable, and you were in a pretty safe place anyways, so… “Yeah.”

He grinned softly, putting the joint up to his lips, and somehow, that alone put a blush on your cheeks. He had no damn right to look this good while smoking. He pulled out a zippo, flicking it open with ease and lighting the joint, taking a long drag. He made it look so incredibly sensual and easy. He pulled the joint from his lips, handing it over. You took it and held it to your lips. You did not make it look as easy, taking a quick hit and holding it, trying to look cool, but coughing quickly after. 

He just smiled, no sense of judgement at all, “You’ll get used to it. Let’s go sit down?”

You nodded, and the two of you walked to the old metal table, sitting in the chairs next to each other. He took the joint from you, and you started a good rotation of for every two hits he took, you took one. You started to feel a nice warm feeling throughout your body, a slight buzz washing over you that truly did help relax you after the stress of inside.

As he passed the joint to you, he spoke up, “So, what make you want to start saying yes to stuff?”

You blew out a slow stream of smoke, shrugging, “I got lonely, I guess. I don’t hang out with many people, so I figured that doing more things would help.” You tilted your head back, looking up at the night sky.

“Has it been helping so far?”

You leaned your head back up, looking over at him with a smile, “I think it’s starting to go well.” You put the joint to your lips, going to take a hit before noticing it was out. You pouted a bit, looking up at him, “it went out.” 

He nodded, grabbing his lighter. You put the joint back to your mouth as he flicked open his lighter, holding the flame to the end of the joint until it glowed a soft amber, and you took a slow, deep inhale. You passed the joint back to him, exhaling. He looked at you quietly, looking down at the joint for a moment before looking back at you.

“Do you know what shotgunning is?”

You looked up at him, shaking your head. 

“Do you want to try it? It’s not anything bad, I promise.”

You nodded, sitting up a bit. He turned to you. “So, I’m going to get kind of close to you, just relax, and breathe in. You’ll know when to, okay?”

“Okay.” You could feel your heartbeat pounding through you at the mention of him getting closer to you, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious. He pulled the joint up to his lips, taking a long inhale. He held his breath, gently grabbing your chin and getting closer. His lips were just centimeters away, the slightest slip and they’d be on yours. He started slowly blowing the smoke out, and it took you a moment to process that this was when you were supposed to breathe in. You closed your eyes, breathing in slowly. You only opened your eyes when you realized he’d already moved back, and you slowly breathed out, feeling weak in the knees. 

“So? What did you think?”

“That was,” any sense of a filter you had went out the door the second the joint had touched your lips, “hot.” You immediately flushed, holding your hand over your mouth and starting to laugh, “Fuck, ‘m sorry.”

He started laughing as well, and if you’d looked, you would’ve seen a matching blush on his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re not wrong.”

Your heartbeat a bit faster at that, but the grin never left your face. Your conversations flowed easily, until the entire joint had been smoked to just a roach. He tucked it back into his cigarette holder, pocketing it once again before turning back to you. You two spoke about a lot of things, mostly life and whether or not the ants on the table could take over the world if they tried. You found it easier to talk than usual, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was the weed or Wilbur. Whichever it was didn’t matter, you were just so incredibly aware of the warm feeling in your chest. You were honestly a bit annoyed at yourself for never having a proper conversation with him in class before, although it wasn’t entirely on you, since that professor was a harsh one. The world felt a lot lighter, and you two spent what could’ve easily been hours or minutes talking. You knew that it was hours when Tommy came outside, walking over to you both.

“Wilbur,” he started, “are you staying here with me and Toby tonight? Just about everyone’s left by now.”

Wilbur shook his head, “probably not. I was planning on walking home.”

Tommy nodded, “thank God because I did not feel like fixing up the spare room.” He spared you a wave before turning back around, wishing us both a goodnight before walking back inside. 

You sighed, “Guess I should probably get back too.”

Wilbur looked back over at you, “Do you live far?”

You shrugged, “Not too far. Just about three streets over.’

He nodded, then stood, “I’ll walk you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.” “Don’t worry about it. I want to.” He smiled. You nodded, standing carefully. You stumbled a bit, not quite used to moving after sitting and getting high, though the high was starting to fade now. He quickly moved a hand to your back, helping steady you. He kept his hand there the entire time you walked back to your small apartment, and it made butterflies flutter in your stomach. When you reached your front door, you turned to him with a soft smile. 

“Thanks for tonight. I had a much better time with you than had I stayed inside there.”

He chuckled softly, “You don’t have to thank me. I would’ve been the same way had you not been there.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, turning it to you, “if you don’t mind though, it would be nice to get your number. That way I could take you out on a date sometime, maybe, if you’d like?” He sounded incredibly unsure of himself, which made you laugh a bit.

“I would absolutely like that.” You took his phone, entering your contact in before handing it back to him. “I had a really great time tonight, Wilbur. Sleep well, and text me when you’re home, alright?”

He nodded quickly, and, without really thinking about it, you pulled him in for a tight hug. He hugged you back, a blush covering his face. 

“Have a good night,” he told you, and as you both pulled away, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. 

You blushed, and a wide grin covered your face, one that you couldn’t quite hide even if you tried, “goodnight, Wilbur.” You walked into your apartment, closing the door behind you and leaning against it. He sent you a text about ten minutes later letting you know he made it home and sending a message to reiterate the “goodnight” with a small text heart next to it that filled you with warmth. Maybe you could get used to this saying yes thing. 

#wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #wilbur soot #this is the fastest ive ever written something #mar writes

[haunted-headset]

CHRISTMAS DATE OF YOUR CHOICE WITH WILBUR!! ice skating? decorating the christmas tree? festive movie night? going to christmas markets together? LITERALLY ANYTHING i just need some festivity and wilburness in my mind

🎄Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

🎄

a/n: YESSSSSSSS!!! idk why but I imagined this with Dadbur & idk why, but I feel like he would name his child Arabella because of that one Arctic Monkeys song

word count: 638

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

contains: Dadbur, fluff, a crazy child, Y/N is referred to as Mommy/Mama, mention of a pet dying, & a functional family (omg imagine)

You were woken up by the sound of tiny feet running into your room & the feeling of a small child lying on top of you.

"Mommy! It's Decembew 1st!" Arabella said with her five-year-old lisp. "We's gotta decowate da Cwimas twee!" A soft yawn was heard from Wilbur.

"What time is it, lovely?" Wilbur said, turning over to face you two.

"Uh..." Arabella looked at the clock on your nightstand & pointed. "Dat time!"

Wilbur laughed & lifted her off of you. "Somebody's excited for Christmas."

"Santa's gonna come to ouw house, Daddy!" Arabella exclaimed with a wide smile, her tangled brunette curls swaying slightly when she spoke. "& we gotta make suwe ouw house wooks da best for Santa or else he won't give me presents!"

"That's not true, princess," Wilbur said. "Santa's still going to give you presents because you're the best kiddo in the world. He's also going to give you presents because you're the most...ticklish kiddo in the world!" He started to tickle Arabella & the room was filled with her screams & giggles.

You chuckled & began to get up. "C'mon, precious. We'll go decorate the tree & then go out for breakfast. How does that sound?" Arabella squealed & jumped into your arms, which nearly caused you to topple over. You adjusted her a bit in your arms & began to walk with Wilbur into the living room where the bare Christmas tree stands. Wilbur grabbed the ornament box next to the tree & opened it.

Arabella gasped. "Mama, we has such pwetty ornaments!"

"You say that every year, lovely," you smiled, kissing her forehead. "Do you wanna help Mama put the tinsel & the lights on the tree!" She nodded fervently at this.

For the rest of the morning, you three put the ornaments, tinsel, & lights on the tree, having to pause when Arabella or Wilbur got tangled up in the lights & tinsel, or whenever Arabella snuck away to Wilbur's office to try & play his guitar, or whenever Wilbur would get distracted with telling Arabella the story of some of the ornaments; one of the larger ornaments was something Wilbur had given you when you two were still friends in high school when your first boyfriend dumped you. Another one of the ornaments was something you had bought for Wilbur when his dog died in middle school & he wouldn't stop crying for a week. Another one Wilbur got for you a week after you had given birth to Arabella. Another one you & Wilbur made for Arabella on her first birthday. The only way you could get Wilbur to stop rambling & help with the tree was by kissing his hairline, & only then would he say, "& the next one is about...youknowwhatnevermindletshelpmamawiththetreeinstead." It made you laugh every time. & when it was time to put the angel on the tree, Wilbur put Arabella on his shoulder so she could place the angel on top.

"It wooks so pwetty, Daddy!" Arabella clapped. "Santa's gonna wove it!"

"He sure will, honey," Wilbur replied, wrapping an arm around your waist & kissing your hairline, which got an "ewww" from Arabella & a laugh from the two of you. Wilbur let Arabella get down so she could go wait in her room for you to help her get dressed.

"Tired?" he chuckled when you yawn & leans into him.

"Extremely," you replied. He kissed your hairline & you felt a tingly, warm feeling inside.

"We'll sleep in tomorrow," he said, looking at the tree with pride. "Our princess is a weirdly good decorator."

You laughed. "Maybe she'll get one of those reality shows where she renovates people's houses when she's older." You two laughed again & he leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Merry Christmas, love."

#wilbur soot #wilbursoot #wilbur #lovejoy wilbur #wilbur soot imagine #fanfic #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #creative writing #dadbur #wilbur as a dad #wilbuh #wilbussy #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #christmas prompts

[mysticalsoot]

mission sims and missing cues

a continuation of my self-indulgent boarding school au

A/N; i am so in love with this au.. I've got like two other fics for this ay in the works. lmk if yall want more of this-- totally did not expect this to be this long but I mean that's okay. also thanks to lilly and elliot for just being motivation to finish this-- and thank YOU for all the love on my writing cause holy fucking mother of gOD there's 110 of you now?? what??

summary; reader and wilbur are close friends and classmates but both have feelings for each other without the other knowing! they're thrown into a mission simulation together as commander and pilot and slight flirting ensues.

tw// swearing, maybe a smidge of suggestive flirting, definitely thoughts

words; 6.3k

pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

pronouns; they/them and use of y/n!

masterlist

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You loved every part of your school, you loved the classes, the teachers, and the activities but you couldn't help but favor the Mission Simulations above all else.

They were the most laid-back part of your academics, and it was a hands on experience that you could have any part in. You had the opportunity to do anything and everything with positions and experience and outcome. 

Although you were truly partial to being commander, you didn't mind any other position you found yourself in. Missions usually spanned around a week but in sessions. First two sessions would be training, and test runs, the third session would start the first half of the mission running about three hours and then the second half would be in the fourth session. You absolutely adored how they did this and found you got the most out of it, a real feeling for the position and role you'd be in and you could make a decision on if you liked it or not—and if you wanted to try the same position on a different mission another time.

Today's session was the first half, a three-hour run of the school's Mars Mission Sim and you had gotten the commander position. Your pilot being Wilbur. He was rather ecstatic about his role, only been put in mission specialist or station roles before—he was excited to be front and center in the mission, though it didn't really matter, he was just excited for a change of pace.

"So, have you come up with a 'first human on Mars' speech or do you need me to come up with it?" Wilbur is snarky in a playful way in the tone he uses, tossing a hash brown into his mouth as he watches you from the other side of the cafeteria table. You roll your eyes at him and fold your arms over your chest.

"Well, no-" He cuts you off.

"Good! I've come up with one!" He starts by standing up in a grandiose manner, not paying mind to any of the students on other teams staring at him.

"One step for humankind, one great step for alien kind!" He makes exaggerated steps, only a few before your crew trainer, Andy, looks over at Wilbur with this gaze of 'please sit down or I'm telling Evan' and he's quick to find his seat back in front of you.

"You're one of my favorites Wilbur, but you should be in drama school," Andy scoffs, looking down at his tray before standing and walking away to take care of it. Your gaze follows him before landing back on Wilbur in front of you. His elbow rested on the table and his eyes look past you.

You hum, "He's right, you should've applied to drama school instead," Then you shrug, chuckling to yourself as Wilbur's gaze lands onto you, turned into a playful glare.

"And miss out on the opportunity to steal my brother's best friend away from him? Never." His eyes shine with a playfulness to them, and he smirks. 

"So I'm just a pawn?" You put your hand over your heart in mock offense, a smirk of your own curling on your lips.

"Oh yes, just a pawn," 

Andy finds his way back to his spot, and he opens his teacher's binder to check the schedule, "I don't want to know what you two are talking about, do I?" He doesn't look up as he adjusts his glasses and sifts through the different pages.

"Wilbur says I'm just a pawn," You tell him and Wilbur gawks at you, offended at how quickly you told on him.

Andy looks up and ahead and then at you and then back at Wilbur, eyebrows knitted together and concern glazing over his irises, "Pawn in what?"

"My master plan to steal them away from Tech," Wilbur speaks nonchalantly, his glare dissipating and turning into a look of pride.

Andy hums, looks over at Wilbur and says, "Good luck with that." His attention is brought back to his binder before checking the time on his phone. He begins ushering the team to finish up with their meal, take care of their trays and stand in front of the glass wall just a few feet behind you when they're done.

"First one to the wall gets to say the first words on Mars," Wilbur smiles at you, eyes glinting with mischief and you can tell by his body language, he's ready to sprint.

"Okay, fine," You shrug and let him get a head start, subtly speed-walking over to clean up his meal, and take care of his tray. Although, subtly isn't the most accurate descriptor, his legs are long enough all he has to do is take longer strides and he can beat you almost immediately. You take your time, walking normally and then speeding up for a second, but you're still behind. Wilbur looks behind him at you and frowns.

"Why are you walking?" He tilts his head at you, stopping in his tracks.

"I don't want to win," You shrug at him, taking a few steps forward and follow behind him in line.

"Why not?" He's still facing you, his back towards the front of the line and you both put the tray's on the counter, taking care of the dishes and trash and putting them in their respective spots. Plastics, paper, plates, utensils, etc.

"Everyone will hear me and only a drama queen like yourself should get to say it," You smile lightly at your own comment, and you're out of line a moment later. You both stand by the exit of the short hall, the glass wall a few feet away from you both.

"You're such a pussy," He smiles and shakes his head as he runs off over to the glass wall, and you follow, yelling after him.

"Wilbur!" You grumble as you follow him, hot on his heels and of course, he's the first at the wall, his hand pressed against the glass and he sticks his tongue out at you, "You can't say that!"

He smirks, leaning down closer to your face teasingly and your breath hitches in your throat, "And why not?" 

You huff, moving to stand against the wall next to him instead of in front of him. You fold your arms over your chest and tilt your head up to meet his eyes, an annoyed glare filling your own, "You could get us both in trouble with that language, mister."

He leans down again, "Doesn't sound like a horrible idea, at least we'll be in trouble together," He smirks slightly, attempting to avert your attention from how pink his cheeks are, and how nervous his breath is.

"Wilbur," You warn, poking his chest and he giggles, leaning against the glass wall with you as you both wait for the rest of your team to meet you.

The rest of the kids take their time with meeting everyone else at the glass wall, both you and Wilbur growing anxious at how long it was taking. You tilt your head forward to look down the line for Tommy, making sure he isn't causing any mayhem too great for Andy. And then you lean back when you see he's just talking with his friends.

It seems that both you and Wilbur found yourselves at the front of the line, the rest of your classmates assumingly lining behind you both as a buffer between them and their crew trainer. To keep Andy from hearing the things they say, probably. He's heard it all from you and Wilbur, so he's far from bothered by whatever stupid thing one of you may say next.

It's a few moments and then he's at the front of the line, leading the hoard of kids down the ramp and around the corner in front of the training room. As per usual, only you and Wilbur are the ones in a proper line and it doesn't surprise anyone. Everyone else could care less and it didn't bother you or Will to speak to each other without facing one another. Plus, if anyone got in trouble for taking up too much space, at least it wouldn't be you or him.

Andy stops the group at the fence blocking off the training room and he tells everyone to stay put as he leaves to go into the back and talk to the trainers running today's mission. You and Wilbur decide to take a spot by the wall, and sit on the floor. You're squeezed up against him slightly, the rest of the group causing you both to get a bit squished. You do your best to hide the red that begins to crawl up your cheeks, looking away from him in hopes he won't notice. He does the same, without you knowing. Both of you are desperately trying to hide any inkling at the feelings you both harbor for one another. Letting that truth through creates vulnerability and being jokingly flirtatious is easy. It can be brushed off as a playful platonic joke. So why not be flirty and break your own hearts at the thought of unrequited feelings?

"You think they trained us enough?" Wilbur breaks the deafening silence with a playful question, mouth quirking up into a half smile, half smirk. His eyes glint with something you can't quite place.

You huff a laugh, "Do you think you paid attention enough?" You turn your head to face him, smile soft but mischievous. You lean against the wall, trying to subtly slink yourself a bit away from him. You don't really want to be away from him and his touch, but it makes you nervous and you don't want to make him uncomfortable. But you don't move, you can't make it obvious. He doesn't mind the touch either, but he too fears the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

"Hm, I think I have a decent grasp on the concept. It's just button pressing and reading lines, right?" Wilbur nudges your shoulder with his, a soft laugh of his own rolling off his lips, ones held in a smirk.

"Oh, you think it's that simple, pretty boy?" You try your best to hide the pink of your cheeks, plotting a response if he asks. For a brief moment he simply looks at you, mouth slightly agape before he shuts it, bringing back his previous smirk.

"Well, that's what it seemed to be, so I'd say it's pretty simple," He brushes past the use of the pet name and he looks away, a nervous smile replacing the smirk as he looks down at his lap. Oh, he's infatuated and dear god—he wanted nothing more than to fall out of love, out of the feelings he felt. They weren't reciprocated, and any point he may have thought they were, could easily be shut down by the excuse of playful jokes.

"Well, we'll see about that," You push up to stand, catching your eye on Andy and another trainer walking over to the team. He makes the motion to move along and follow him with his hand and so you jump to stand behind him, Wilbur following suit.

The group is led around the corner and into the mission control room. Everyone's instructed to put their backpacks and whatnot on the table far behind the rows of desks. Both you and Wil put yours down on the far end, next to each other's and your shoulders brush together when the rest of the group pushes towards you both. You try to shuffle backwards, but hit the wall that separates the rest of the room to the trainer's desk. Wilbur puts his hand on the small of your back, and guides you to stand in front of him when you get startled by the wall. He rests his hands on either side of your upper arms. You know you're blushing, you know it's obvious but you just hope he doesn't see or doesn't care or doesn't notice and—

"Alright, Andromeda, everyone split into your groups of who goes where and a space ghost will lead you out to your positions, alright?" Andy speaks over the loud conversations of everyone in the group, his hands cupping around his mouth to somehow assist in making his voice louder and heard.

You and Wilbur stay in your place, Tommy, Ash, Niki and James join you both in your corner. Tommy starts chattering about his position and Wilbur is quick to shush his younger brother, and Tommy grumbles in response, crossing his arms and huffing.

The six of you are silent as you await instructions, and another trainer comes over to your group, muttering something about following her and so you do, you first, Wilbur behind and then the rest in a clump behind him. It's barely a few feet around the corner to the capsule. The trainer walking in first, ducking in through the doorway. She stands over to the corner, letting the rest of you walk in and find your seats. Wilbur attempts to duck down but still manages to bump his head, holding back a few obscenities that would definitely get him in trouble.

You chuckle at the sight and he keeps his head ducked down as he finds his spot at his seat. He buckles in the best he can, and then the trainer tells him off, reminds him he has to put his suit on first. He grumbles to himself, and turns around out of his chair and joins the rest of you as you put on the white painters jumpsuits over your normal clothes. Light costume astronaut boots being put on your feet and velcroed in.

You look over at Wilbur and catch your eye on him as he struggles, trying to get his sleeves to pull down all the way, same with his pants legs. You huff a laugh at the sight, "Don't worry about it," You shake your head at him and adjust his collar, hands lingering on his chest before pulling them away to rest at your sides.

His eyes go wide in a playful way, lips curling into a slight smirk, trying to hold some semblance of a fearful gaze, "I could die, y/n!" 

You huff a laugh, turning away from him and sitting in your commander's seat, him following and sitting in the seat opposite you, "You, die? Yeah you're too stubborn for that," You open the small binder you were given and review it as you wait for the signal to start, a clarification from every position that they too are ready.

Wilbur follows suit and you swear you see him gaze at you from the corner of your eye. You smile softly and pretend you don't notice, "Wilbur?"

He hums, looking up from his book for a moment and he looks to you, a quizzical look on his features, "Yes?"

You nod your head towards the comms, "Joe asked for confirmation from you, pilot,"

"Oh!" Wilbur rushes to put his headset on, and presses the speak button, "Roger that SOCOM," He rests his head back against the headrest, sighing.

"Alright, I'll leave you guys to it. Remember the call buttons if you need anything at all, okay?" The crew trainer assigned to the Orion capsule then leaves out the door, being sure to get a verbal confirmation or a thumbs up from each of you.

"You'll do fine, Wilbur," You reassure him, going about various procedures, buttons and switches being turned on or off. Codes being entered and lines of numbers and codes being typed out on the screen.

"You think so?" His voice shakes, unsure of himself as he flips switches along with you, referencing his binder every few seconds.

You nod, "I know so," It's all you need to say as you press the last few buttons before the computer switches the simulation to launch. Voices muffled in your ear as you focus intently on what's needed to do next, when you get into Altair.

It's a few minutes of launch and then the program switches to a screen showing the stars and planets passing by. More switches need flipping and more buttons need pressing. You glance over to your right at Wilbur, his eyebrows knitted in concentration and anxiety. His finger skims the lines of words and instructions in his binder.

"You alright there, Wil?" You put down your book, keeping your eyes locked on him.

"Uh, yeah, fine, fine," He keeps his gaze locked on the pages before him. 

You revert your gaze back to your own work, still checking on him in the corner of your eye every once and a while. Everyone in the capsule was ahead of schedule, all buttons pressed and switches flipped so all you had to do now was respond to Mission Control and wait for docking. Wilbur's leg had started to bounce by this point and he was biting his tongue. His hands kept running through his hair and he seemed oddly stressed for a simple simulation. If you could stand up and walk over to him, you would. But you're buckled in (more like strapped in since there were no buckles and both you and Wilbur were insistent that you were secure in your seats), you couldn't unbuckle yourself and walk over to him, risking an unnecessary anomaly.

So, you reached your hand over to his shoulder, having to lean to your side to even reach him in the first place. His head shot up to look at you, eyebrows creased in a wrinkling worry and mouth drawn in a thin line. 

"Are you okay?" It was merely a whisper, only meant to be heard by you and him. It was intimate and private and your eyes were soft as they looked into his. He didn't know what to do with himself, the amount of care you showed him was overwhelming. His heart racing with anxiety and nervousness.

His face flushed pink, "Yes-"

You cut him off, tapping his leg that bounces and hits the console a few times with how lanky he is, "Your leg says otherwise," You smile softly to him, the softness matching your gaze.

"I'm okay," He tries looking away, up at the screen and he watches the digital stars. The white dots scattered on black in the monitor before him.

You rub his shoulder gently, "Can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong."

He sits there, fidgeting with his hands in his lap, eyes closing shut and a deep breath being taken, and then his head turns to face you, "What if I mess it all up?"

You smile, shaking your head, "That's not possible, I promise you won't," You pat his shoulder gently, soft and assuring smile held on your lips.

"What if I press the wrong button? Or don't get secured well enough? Or what if I mess up the O2 transfer, or--"

You cut him off, squeezing his shoulder gently. Mission Control is sure to be watching this all, but most are probably running around chasing someone so the thought isn't bothersome to you or Wilbur. The camera can't catch the light pink tinted on either of your cheeks anyways.

"I'll be right there to help, you're not alone. It's a job for both of us, if one of us goes down we both do. Triumphantly," Your thumb rubs over his shoulder, back and forth in a manner of comfort and consolation.

"They need their commander more-" 

You shake your head, "They need their pilot too," When the closeness is overwhelming, you back up, ruffling up his hair and finding your spot back in your seat, "Now, relax and ask MOCR if they're like, dead yet."

Wilbur smiles, wider now and he shakes his head with a light chuckle.

"Part of me hopes they're dead."

"Wilbur!" You scold him, smiling wide. The rest of the Orion crew is in their own world, not paying mind to you and Wilbur's bickering.

"Okay, not Joe, the rest though--" He cuts himself off with a giggle and presses the speak button on his coms box, "Mission Control, how is it over there?"

There's a crackle in your headphones and Joe speaks over the mic, "What do you think, Wilbur?"

"Ey, it's Pilot to you," Wilbur, while speaking with a stern tone, is smiling wide. Joe huffs and a scream is heard muffled behind him, "How bad?"

"Zombies, Wil, zombies," Joe sounds tired, exasperated and he leaves his mic on accidentally and there's a shuffle heard and more yelling.

"ZOMBIES??" Tommy yells and the entire capsule bursts out laughing, you, Ash, Wilbur, James, Niki-- Tommy just stands there oblivious as you all listen to the chaos in Mission Control.

"I didn't know there were zombies," Niki speaks up, giggling and sifting through her own guide book.

"I hope at least Mark survives," James then pipes up, and shrugs.

"What about the rest?" You ask him, turning in your chair to look back at him.

"Eh, they can get eaten alive," Everyone's heads spin to look at him and James simply shrugs.

"James!" You scold him, "You are both children," You look between both James and Wil as you speak and then you turn back to face the screen in front of you.

The speaker crackles again, "Docking is in five minutes, Orion," Joe sounds out of breath as he speaks, "You're on your own for now, half of my crew is dying,"

"Thank God," James mutters and Ash smacks his shoulder.

"James! Your mic is on!" Ash glares at his friend, huffing.

"Yeah, that's the point,"

Joe grumbles and his mic cuts off, now no longer any inkling as to what's happening in Mission Control, the six of you sit in silence, waiting for docking to complete.

"I don't want to jinx it--" Tommy begins speaking but he's then cut off by the rest of you yelling;

"NO!" in unison.

And then he draws his mouth in a thin line and crosses his arms, puffing his chest.

Silence blankets the air, and then a clicking is heard through the loudspeakers.

"Docked!" Ash calls out and Wilbur instructs everyone to unbuckle and follow you through to Altair. You crawl through the 'airlock' door between yours and Wil's stations and slip into the Altair capsule. Wilbur follows you, bumping his head on both sides of the airlock and then again when he stands. You giggle at him as you shuffle to find all the mic boxes and helmets and set them aside for landing.

"I'm not sure how you passed the first Astronaut evaluation-- You're much too tall for this job," You playfully poke at Wilbur and he rolls his eyes, finding his spot at the front of the room, by another control board. He puts on his headset, gesturing for you to do the same and then the rest of your crew all files into the capsule.

"They needed someone decently charismatic," He smirks smugly, looking through his guidebook again, landing on the page for Altair arrival and he begins the usual routine of button presses and switches.

"You? Charismatic? Yeah, no, they just felt bad for you," You chuckle to yourself, and he drops his hands from the control board in front of him, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to him, his eyes locked on you.

"You are so mean to me," He shakes his head, eyes still on you and your cheeks dusted pink. You averted your gaze from him, down at the control board.

"All in a day's work," You shuffle through your own book, pressing buttons and entering codes.

"Stop flirting, you two," James chirps up, rolling his eyes and messing with the screen in the far back.

You both turn bright red, focusing your gazes heavily on the control board in front of you, doing your best to ignore the words from your friends mouth. Tommy, Ash and Niki, find their own spots on the floor against the wall--James is too stubborn to join them and determined to stand as long as he needs to before landing.

"James, just sit," Niki is stern and pats the spot next to her. James looks over, watching her and shaking his head.

"I'm fine up here, Niki," He looks through his own guidebook now, nothing new for him to do.

"Alright, well, suit yourself," Niki shrugs, looking across at Tommy and Ash and striking conversation with them both.

You continue glancing over at Wilbur, his eyes intently focused on screens and buttons and words typed on a page. His face contorted into a focused gaze and it's endearing. Watching him so focused, working in a way. He's in his element--while you can't deny he's meant for music, something about him being in this STEM environment fits. A leadership role. If you weren't so bad at communication and speaking clearly, you would've immediately opted for Pilot--Commander was simply made for him. But then again, so was the position of speaking and commanding and communicating--and wow, he's so pretty. 

A few stray curls fall onto his forehead as his head tilts down to get a closer look at a separate screen, finger running over the words next to the O2 symbol. He's rolled up the sleeves on his jumpsuit, and he's stuffed a pen he grabbed, in his hair on top of his ear. 

You catch yourself staring and look away before he can notice, and when you look back at your crew, they all look away as if they were staring too. Probably at you, and most likely going to gossip later. You huff and squeeze through to the back, grabbing helmets and mic sets, handing one by one to each person. James first, since he's closest to you, then Niki, then Ash and lastly Tommy. He huffs, mumbling something about how he's obviously your least favorite. Which isn't true by any means, but the child insists.

And then you hand Wilbur his, and he nods to you, a curt smile on his lips in thanks. Your stomach flips and your cheeks burn but you shake it away.

A few more moments and Mission Control comes through the coms again, Joe sounding stressed and out of breath, "Landing procedure will begin shortly, please put your helmets on and secure your suits. Thank you," And then his voice cuts out again and Wilbur shrugs before pressing his coms button, responding with a short 'roger that'.

All of you begin readjusting your suits and hooking up your comms. Wilbur rolls his sleeves back down and to you that's slightly disappointing--but it's better than him 'dying' so you suck it up for the sake of the mission. James struggles with his helmet, grumbling and Niki giggles, helping him slide it on and secure it around his collar. He mutters something about it being stupidly difficult but you can't entirely hear. Your focus is on the boy in front of you, stumbling with his comms box as he clips it onto his belt and then he puts on his own helmet. Yours has already been put on and is perfectly adjusted. You'd be a liar if you said your suit was too small--it was much too long. So you had to roll the sleeves and pants legs to make it so you didn't trip. 

Wilbur struggles with the collar, fidgeting with it to get it to sit right, over the lip of his helmet. You hum, walking over to him, "Need any help?"

He nods, "Dear god, yes."

You smile softly and help flatten his collar and pull it up over the lip of his helmet. You fasten it in the back after ushering him to turn around and kneel a bit so you can reach. He turns around after you pat his back, facing you and smiling softly. Your hands linger on his chest for a moment, fingers messing with the edges of his collar to put it in its final place.

Wilbur speaks up, "Thank you," He smiles softly and you pull your hands away, eyes looking away and face turning a light pink.

"Anytime there, Wilbur," You turn to face the control panel, flipping the final switches before you all get the okay to step out.

Wilbur steps out first, freezes and mumbles "Mars, a new frontier," and the entire crew bursts into fits of giggles--Wilbur included.

You walk up to him, pat him on the shoulder and look up at him, smirk pulling at the corner of your mouth, "You regret making that deal, yet?"

He looks back to you, eyes wide with anxiety, "Perhaps," and he ushers you to the dome base just a few steps aside. You step through, the rest of your crew following like a line of ducklings. You all get settled in at your stations, familiarizing yourself with where things are and what things do what. 

It's calm and quiet, just waiting on further instructions from Mission Control when you and Wilbur decide waiting is for the weak. You both head out the door, over to Altair and begin oxygen transfer.

The plan is simple: connect the hoses to the oxygen tanks, begin the transfer at the computer and move it over to the base and repeat. It's a two person job, one manning the computer and the other with the tanks. There's a computer inside the base for transferring the O2 onto the base from Altair.

"So, I'll go on computer?" Wilbur asks as you both stop outside the doors to the dome, you look up at him. Eyes soft and you nod.

"That was our plan, right?" You smile smugly and Wilbur rolls his eyes, walking off and into Altair. You get the hoses connected and then Wilbur yells out;

"Ready?"

"Ready!" Your reply is loud, enough for him to hear but to not bother anyone else in the simulation room.

There's a simulated sound of hissing and the O2 transfers, a few moments pass and then you switch to the base and repeat everything you just did but in reverse, to empty it into the base's reservoir.

As you wait for the O2 to empty out, your mind begins to run off on its own accord. Wondering about Wilbur, if he's noticed any of your nervous glances, or the way your cheeks turn pink or red when he smiles--how you stared at him at his first volleyball game a few weeks back. Your dad told you off with a laugh--but it was hard to look anywhere but him. Anywhere but his ar-

You cut your thoughts short, bringing yourself back to reality when the O2 shuts off, and then you drug it back over to Altair. You looked around and noticed Wilbur wasn't in sight, nowhere near the base or by the computer--maybe he was inside of Altair, at the computer, waiting for you. You dropped the key to the O2 tanks and walked around the corner, sneaking into the door of Altair. No sign of the lanky nerd called Wilbur--you groaned in annoyance, hitting your head on the air lock opening when you stepped into the lander.

You shuffled yourself over to the computer, pressing a few buttons to get the transfer ready and you went back out; connected the tanks and went back in to press the final button for this transfer.

It was merely a waiting game as you patiently awaited the transfer to complete--if you were honest it was more impatient than anything, but no one needs to know that. You got bored, and partly frustrated and so you walked off while the tank filled and you went into the base.

"Okay, has anyone seen my Pilot? He's went missing and it's really difficult to transfer these," You wave your hands in frustration, "these, tanks!"

Tommy scoffs, Niki giggles and Ash closes the plexiglass door to the solitary bed James is laying in.

"Haven't seen him, sorry," Niki is the first to speak, going about her business grabbing medications and other things and handing them off to Ash.

"Not even an inkling?" 

"Nope," They all answer you at once, shaking their heads or shrugging. James' nope is muffled behind the plexiglass.

You groan and turn on your heels, dramatically exiting out the double doors. You drag yourself back into Altair, shutting off the transfer and continuing your previous routine, desperately looking for Wil as you do so.

"Y/n! I found it!" The familiar accent breaks through and you turn around to face him, a wide smile plastered on his lips and a small Mars Rover in his arms. He holds it up, smile still wide and warm.

"So that's where you disappeared off to?" You smile back, so soft and partially teasing. You fold your arms over your chest.

He nods wildly, "Yup! I'm gonna go fix it, I'll be right back out to help, okay?" Wilbur begins walking off and into the base, you chuckle to yourself shaking your head.

"You better, Wil!" You call back, desperately trying to hide the fluttering in your chest and the pink on your cheeks. There's no evident reason for your reaction other than just…him.

A few moments later and he's back out of the base, letting it loose on the floor and walking over to you. He pats your shoulder and slips into the lander, his legs sticking out for a few moments before he pulls himself all the way in. An ouch is heard along with a bang and you giggle.

"I'm okay!" He yells out, and you shake your head.

"It's already done, Wilbur!" You call out, the four words having been delayed by you until he got into the lander--just to mess with him.

You hear him huff and then slink out of the lander airlock. He takes a few steps down the ladder and walks over to you, "I dislike you right now," He holds a fake frown on his features, but his eyes are soft.

"Dislike is a strong word there, Gold," You smirk, arms folding over your chest again and eyes looking up, locking on his.

"Hm, it fits," He shrugs and turns on his heel, walking over to the satellite board, he stops and looks back at you, "Can you get the box underneath the medical bed? We need the pieces to fix this," If you didn't know better, you would've sworn he heard your thoughts back in Orion--maybe he did.

"I don't remember your role being commander?" You walk over to him, leaning against the board, a wave of confidence shooting through you.

"Might as well be," His lips curling into a smirk as he speaks, soft and quiet, "I'm better at taking lead, aren't I?"

This fucker-- You scoff, smirking to yourself and walking off into the base. You rub your hands on your face in an attempt to rid your cheeks of its burning redness and James looks over to you--

"Did you not notice how miserable I am? Or are you too busy with-" Ash yells at him, smacking the plexiglass before James could finish his remark.

"No-- sorry, both our mics are broken so we're pretty out of the loop," You mumble and kneel down to grab the box into your hands, "you dying or something?" 

"Yes!! I am!" James' tone is sharp and everyone giggles at his words, "Hey! Come on guys! That's what the Space Ghost told me!" 

Ash shakes his head, "No! They said you're having a severe allergic reaction, not dying."

James groans, throwing himself back on the bed flat, "I wish I was dying!" 

You laugh, shaking your head, "Alright, well don't treat him, Niki," and you walk out, box in hand.

You walk over to Wilbur, dropping the box in front of him and then putting your hands on your hips, "There you go, Commander, happy now?" 

He smirks, "Why yes I am, thank you," He leans down to open it and take out a few pieces, handing a good half of them to you and you huff, rolling your eyes.

"This power is getting to your head-- You're not even Commander," You start to place the pieces one by one in the way the instructions sheet requires-- it's not detailed instructions by any means. It's more or less an example of what it should look like which is plenty for you and Wilbur to go off of.

"Well, I might as well be. I thought you liked this?" His face never falls from the cocky smirk he holds, some sort of confidence of his own surging through his body. He looks over at you briefly, eyes locked down onto yours. "Me being in charge and all?"

Your eyes went wide and you hoped you were hallucinating-- or maybe daydreaming-- or maybe this was a dream. But you figured with how real it felt, your senses being in tact--that this was real. You felt your cheeks burn bright red and you simply stared, hand going limp and the piece of this big puzzle in your hand, falling and crashing into the box.

"I saw you staring, that's all," He smirks and shakes his head, moving along with his part of the puzzle and you swore you could see him blush too--

The thought is cut short when a Space Ghost comes out of the Mission Control room, ushering everyone to stop their roles for a moment and that we'll pick up where we left off next session. You silently thank the gods for this interruption-- keeping Wilbur from getting too cocky and you catch him wink at you as he follows the rest of the group into Mission Control.

Next session will be the death of you.

taglist; @sleepyburs @lillylvjy (just send me an ask or dm if you want to be added!)

#wilbur soot #cc!wilbur soot #cc!wilbur x reader #cc!wilbur #boarding school au my beloved #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur #dsmp wilbur #wilbur x gn!reader #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x y/n

[the-phantom-author]

this is self indulgent but girl dad wilbur helping his kid with their first panic attack. he’d hate that they have the same “worries” as him but helping them off the ledge :(

Girl dad Wilbur who daughter is just so incredibly stressed out with school. She knows you and Wil are both so incredibly proud of her academic accomplishments, but she's put herself in one to many high level classes, and is afraid to bring up the fact she's struggling with either you or Wil.

When she gets home from school one afternoon she goes to her room and doesn't really leave, which isn't abnormal she is 14, sometimes sh has off days and she's aloud to deal with them how she needs to, even if that's by herself.

That being said, Wil has never been one to sleep through the night without trouble, especially if one of his girls are having a bad day. So as he's walking around the house trying to tire himself out, he decides to check in on his daughter, to make sure she's sleeping peacefully.

He's greeted by a much different sight then he expected when he looks in her room. His little girl, curled up in his bed, shaking and struggling to catch her breath. As he approaches her, he is softly calling her name, trying to see if she can respond to him. All he gets in response are little whimpers of "help" and "can't breathe". He quicky realizes that it's a panic attack, and instantly goes through every piece of advice he's given you when you've had to help him through his own panic attacks.

He has one of her hands on his chest, above his heart, while he's telling her "Breathe." "Sweetheart I need you to match my breathing." "Deep breaths, you are doing so well" "You're okay, we're in your room. You're safe." Once he does have her calmed down he's not moving, he spends the rest of the night with her, being consumed by his own guilt.

When you wake up the next morning, it's not odd for Wilbur to not be in bed, sometimes when he wakes up he can't go back to sleep. But it is odd for no one to wake you before 7am. Usually all three of you get ready in the morning so you eat breakfast together, so you set off to find where you husband is, and why your house is so quiet.

When you approach you're daughters room you see them, Wil sitting in the floor leaning against the wall, and your daughter in the depths of sleep knocked out using her dad as a pillow. As you walk in Wil gives you a look, one that tells you that something went down last night.

As he details how he "fucked her up by giving her his problems and worries" in a wobbly voice, on the break of panic attack himself, you start telling how he absolutely did not. The two of you decide that she's staying home that day, and you figure out a way to approach what happened. Will starts giving her tips, by telling her the way he stops them when by himself and explains more of the physiology behind why it happens.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #dad!bur #dadbur #dadbur x reader #dad!bur x reader

[maarriiii]

I Love You | Wilbur Soot

A/N: TAKE THIS FIC I NEED SOMETHING TO DISTRACT ME SINCE ME AND MY EX ARE IN THE SAME FUCKINH CLASS TOGETHER (I was gonna post this after part 10 of simp and the bonus part but shit happens I guess)

Summary: You just saw your ex but Wilbur’s there for you.

Pairing(s): CC! Wilbur Soot x gender neutral!reader

Warning(s): None.

my masterlist :))

~~

You jumped in your seat when someone placed a peck on your cheek. The action shouldn't have surprised you since you know who the culprit was but you did anyway, every time without fail. You had the intention to scold him, saying what you always said when he pulled this, but when that adorable face with the round glasses and a red beanie that covered his curls gazed at you with that equally adorable and bright smile, your heart just melt at the sight of the one and only Wilbur Soot.

"Hello there. Sorry I'm late."

You grinned, eyes lighting up. "Hi. I wasn't aware that we had set up a time."

Wilbur rolled his eyes affectionately before glancing at the book in front of you. "What's that?"

His arms were on both of your side, trapping you—not that you ever felt trapped with him. His face was so incredibly close, leaning on your shoulder, your lips would grazed his cheek if you slightly turned right.

"Just something about my lecture later. Thought, I'd read about it a little while occupying myself with something. Honestly, I was beginning to get bored."

"Don't worry, love. I'm here to save you from boredom."

You kissed his cheek. "My hero."

Both of you laughed before Wilbur pulled a chair beside you, making himself comfortable. With him there, the book you halfheartedly read before was immediately forgotten and you devoted all your attention to the man you're lucky enough to call your partner. The conversation flowed smoothly like it always does with the two of you. You were talking about the plans you had for the rest of the day; lunch with James after a lecture, go to a guitar shop to buy strings for Wilbur's guitar, walking around in the city and going to the beach, dinner at home—getting takeout or cooking was to be decided—and lastly, out for drinks with the Lovejoy boys.

It was all fine and dandy, a normal day as per usual, until you had to look away from Wilbur for a split second. You rarely had your expression changed so quickly from smiling and having fun to sheer discomfort and sadness. That last one was missable if people didn't pay attention to your expression but Wilbur did like he always does. He followed your line of sight and after looking around for a bit, he found what made you go quiet all of the sudden. 

Behind one of the many book shelves in the library was someone you once knew, someone you loved before it toppled down due to the distance and quite probably lack of communication. You knew he already came back to town, the date of his return was still fresh in your mind, but you didn't expect to see him. The memories of your past relationship washes over you like a wave hitting the shore and your heart began to ache at how it ended. 

"y/n, love, are you okay?"

For a moment, you forgot Wilbur was next to you and his worried voice brought you back to reality. "Oh, yeah, no, I'm good. I'm okay. Yeah, I'm good."

Wilbur wasn't entirely convinced and neither did you from the sound of it. 

"Love, you know it's fine to tell me about it, right?"

"I know, but I'm fine, Wil." You smiled, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. You look sad. 

Wilbur held your hand and placed it in his lap. His thumb carressed the back of your hand so gently. His brown eyes stared at you and you were convinced he could probably read straight into your soul. 

"Is this the first time you've seen him since you guys broke up?" He asked, whispered almost. 

You just nodded, focusing on your hand. 

Wilbur let go of your hand and for a second, you thought you said or did something that might hurt him or offend him. You didn't want him to think that you still have feelings for your ex and that you're only using him as a rebound or something. You weren't. You wouldn't do that to Wilbur. But, instead of the worst, you felt his hands on your arms, pulling you into an embrace. Your legs interlocked with his, your head underneath his chin and after awhile, you wrapped your arms around Wilbur's torso. You didn't understand. Why was he not mad at you? Why did he comfort you instead? You didn't outright say it but anyone who sees you would definitely know you were sad about it, the relationship and him. 

"I'm sorry, love. I know how much he meant to you."

Your voice shook, trying to hold back the tears. "Why aren't you upset with me?"

Wilbur frowned. "Why should I?"

When you didn't answer, he pulled away. His heart ache at the sight of you. "y/n, I'm not mad at you nor will I ever get mad at you for this, okay? I'd be a total dickhead if I was. I've been in a relationship too, love. I know what it feels like. It's completely alright for you to feel this way. I know that you care about me. I know that your feelings towards me is honest and I would never doubt that for a second."

You didn't know what possessed you to say it and you would never be the one to say it first, fearing for the worst, but it just felt right coming out of your lips, to say it to him. "I love you, Wil."

You caught him by surprise and you didn't blame him for it, but once the meaning of your words settled in his mind, his cheek turned rosy. "I love you too."

You moved closer to Wilbur, as close as you could physically can, you held his jaw, caressing it the way he did with your hand before kissing him, lips perfectly fit together like two puzzle pieces. You felt his hands travelled to your waist, staying there. It felt right. The kiss, him. All of it. You were convinced that you could stay like that forever if the need for air wasn't so crucial. 

You pulled away, lips and nose grazing his. Your foreheads touching. 

"Do you want to get out of here?" Wilbur whispered.

You nodded, still dazed by the kiss.

"Good. I know what'll make you feel better."

"What?"

"A good ole' sausage rolls from Gregg's."

The laugh that came out of was genuine and joyful. A sound that Wilbur miss already and could hear for eternity. You were beaming, smile as bright as the sun and as beautiful as the flowers--maybe even more so. Wilbur savour the peck you placed on his lips and let you tangled his fingers with yours. The two of you stood up and left the library, more in love than you did before.

~~

taglist: @ella-fella-bo-bella

Send me an ask, message me, or just comment if you want to be added to my taglist 💕

#wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #wilbur mcyt #mcyt x reader #cc!wilbur x reader #cc!wilbur

[mathanlin]

// mention of past death, mention of past abuse, panic attacks

Ghost/Foster AU where ten year old Tommy has a frighteningly long record.

It’s strange. The kid’s just… shy. Sure, he talks to himself, laughs once in a while, stares like he’s seeing something Phil can’t.

And then Phil starts seeing them, too. Ghosts.

*Twin* ghosts.

It starts with reflections.

Phil’s showing the kid around, trying his best to be gentle. The kitchen, the living room, Tommy’s own room. Then, the bathroom.

But for a heartbeat, there’s two too many faces in the mirror.

Phil ignores it — of course he does. This kid needs love & attention, and it’s gone from Phil’s mind in moments.

But it keeps happening.

Techno and Wilbur.

Those are the names Phil hears Tommy repeat — not strange names for imaginary friends. And they clearly make him happy, it’s the only time Phil’s ever heard him laugh.

Until the one time he whispers them in fear.

It’s the first time Phil’s gotten upset.

“A fight, Tommy?” he says, brow furrowed as Tommy curls up in the kitchen chair. “Why? You could’ve gotten *hurt,* god, why—”

“Techno, help.”

Tommy’s whisper stops Phil dead.

And then a mug topples from the counter and shatters.

Tommy’s fled to his room before it even hits the ground.

Phil lets him go. Cleans up the mess, even makes a cup of cocoa for Tommy, hoping to soothe his nerves.

(Even if Phil’s nerves are the *opposite* of soothed, as he catches the flicker of a face in the liquid.)

“Tommy, I made you some—”

“Do you think he was actually going to hurt me?”

Phil freezes outside the door. It’s Tommy’s voice, shaky & weak. Phil’s heart breaks, just a little. *Talking to himself, again—*

“Toms, it’s… it’s not worth the risk.”

*There’s someone in there.*

“Tommy,” Phil shouts, wrenching the doorknob. It doesn’t budge — despite *not having a lock.* “Tommy, who’re you talking to? Open the door—” 

The door flies open. Tommy’s sitting on his bed.

Alone.

That’s far from the last strange thing that happens.

The reflections are common now. Not the same face, as Phil thought — sure, there’s subtle differences, but they appear together. Phil keeps ignoring them, still trying to help Tommy feel safe.

And then the warnings start.

*Hurt him and you’re dead.*

*Leave him alone.*

*Don’t you fucking touch him.*

Written in mist on glass, etched in wood, scrawled on paper, disappearing when Phil blinks.

“Tommy?” Phil whispers once. “I’d never hurt him.”

A beat of silence. Then, *Liar.*

Who cares if they’re hallucinations — Phil does all he can to prove them wrong. 

He comforts Tommy, giving him extra blankets & sweaters for the strange cold that seems to follow him. Hugs him, ignoring the furious (terrified?) faces in a nearby reflection.

And then they snap.

Tommy’s having a panic attack, crumpled in the middle of the living room.

“Hey, mate. It’s okay,” Phil says, keeping his voice soft. He takes a step towards Tommy, hands reaching out—

Something shoves him back.

Something Phil can’t see.

“Don’t,” Tommy chokes out — to the spectral force or Phil, he can’t tell.

And apparently, neither can they.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Phil says, flinching as something shatters. Tommy cries out, curling tighter as glass breaks beside him. “Tommy, no—”

Fuck the force holding him back. Phil leaps for Tommy, throwing his arms protectively over the kid. 

And something *screams.*

Two 'somethings'.

“No, no, get off of him—”

“Don’t hurt him, you fucker, get *off*—”

Two voices, equally enraged. Equally *panicked?* Phil can’t tell through the smashing of glass, through Tommy’s panicked cries as Phil curls tighter around him.

(And the twins keep fighting until they can’t. Until the living room’s in ruins.

They can’t see the protective embrace for what it is, as foster kids who’d never gotten anything close to affection in their too-short lives.

And they can’t watch another brother die.)

.

.

.

“You didn’t hurt him.” 

Wilbur’s voice is watery, quiet. Phil glances away from the little shards of glass he’d pulled from his skin, meeting the ghost’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. 

“I promised. I’d never.”

“You… protected him,” Techno murmurs. 

(From *us,* goes unsaid, as two pairs of glowing eyes drift to the pile of glass to Phil’s battered skin.)

“I always will.” 

“Why?”

“Because I love him?” 

Phil’s heart aches as he glances in the mirror, watching Techno & Wilbur’s faces contort with… grief. 

But it’s even more gutwrenching to hear, “Then you should send us away.”

“What?” 

“Salt,” Techno says. He might not be alive, but his breath still catches. “Or iron. Fill the house with it, and— and we’ll leave.”

(You can kick us out, the twins think. 

As former foster kids… they’re used to it.)

“It’s not just him.”

Phil keeps his voice quiet, turning his gaze back to his wounds — wounds that the twins had caused, terrified and yet achingly protective. 

“What?” Wilbur finally asks, hesitant.

“I don’t just love him.”

Confusion. Hesitance. Uncertainty. Phil watches every emotion cross the twins’s faces, even if it breaks his heart.

“You have a place here, too,” he says. “I know you want to protect Tommy, but… you don’t have to. I’ll protect him.”

He smiles, tearing up.

“I’ll protect you.”

(It’s a promise the twins barely let themselves believe.

But Phil keeps it. They’re just as cherished as Tommy, their presence always wanted — whether invisible or not. They’re safe. 

It’s all they ever wanted in life. 

And though it’s a bit late, it’s still perfect.)

#mcyt #dsmp #dsmp au #sbi #sbi au #threadfic #technoblade #tommyinnit #philza #wilbur soot

[wilmaslittleflower]

someone to you

notes; hi hi! So, here’s some cg!professor!wilbur!!! I hope you like! Request are open!

warnings; um- fluff! Regressing in class, soft Wilbur, if I missed anything please tell me!

edited; a little

wc; 800 (it’s short)

taglist; @koithelittle @littlesakura-anon @littlesoot @wilburstamagotchi @burgundy-baby @eyluvu @tinysharkzz (wanna be added? Send an ask or dm!)

it all happened to quickly. One moment you were sitting down, writing notes that Wilbur explained and showed the whole class. And then the next, you were looking around with gloss covered eyes as you took in your settings. You didn’t know what was going on, but all you knew was that the you wanted Wil.

His giggle cut through your thoughts as a student made a joke about the notes, Wilbur agreeing with them yet continuing. You quickly shoved down the urge to giggle with him, and instead curled in on yourself and continued to listen to his voice. You brought your thumb to your mouth and gently put a bit in so it looks like you were chewing your nails, yet enough so you could suck on it.

Wil saw this. He saw how you brought your knees up to your chest and hugged your body closer together. Saw your expression on your face as you looked at him. Your thumb up to your lips and headphones on. He knew from that alone you had regressed and that’s what made him end his lecture early.

“Ok, that’s it for today! We’ll finish this section off on Friday. Have a good rest of your day everyone, y/n can you stay back for me?” The sound of your name being said so softly throughout the room, made your fuzzy mind clear as you perked up. He was smiling at you as you put your stuff back and made your way down to him.

Setting your bag down by his desk as he locked his classroom door, having a good time gap until his next class and you not having anything else that day. When he turned around, he walked over to you with his arms open, inviting you into them. Giggling, you ran up to him and jumped into his arms, Wilbur easily picking you up and carrying you into his office.

“Hi baby.” Wilbur whispered to you as you nuzzles your head into his neck, just wanting to be close to him.

“hi daddy..” you said softly to him, sleep underlining your words.

Wil smiled at you as he sat down at his chair, rubbing your back as he opened one of his desk, taking out the paci and toys he kept in there. “How small are you love?”

“Hmm finks m two…. buwt I fink m smawwer..” you said, words cut up as you thought, shaking your head as you did. “tant tawk.”

“That’s ok, love. Don’t talk if you can’t, you don’t have to. You remember what I told you? The yes and no things?” After he saw you shake your head, he smiled at you and brought your paci out for you, which you took with wide eyes and a small. “Wanna go to the bin over there and pick out a stuffies and a coloring book? Or you can watch something on my laptop.”

You got up and went over to the bin in the corner, pulling all sorts of things out as you found the one you were looking for. Giggling, you hugged it and showed Wilbur as you came back over to him.

“Oh, they’re lovely darling. That’s one of your favorite, yeah?” He asked as you nodded and nuzzles back into his chest as he got his laptop out. “Ok, so I’m guessing you want to watch something, what do you want to watch love? can you type it in?” Wil asked as you sat up and and slowly typed in the title of what you wanted.

Ninjago.

Wil smiled at you as he held you closer to him and twisted his chair around so it was easier for you to watch the movie. As the title card showed on the screen, Wilbur ran his hands up and down your back and through your hair as he quietly hummed in your ear as the well known music played.

Feeling your eyelashes flutter against his neck, and you shift to get more comfortable in his lap, Wil immediately adjusted with you as he shushed you to sleep. “Shhh darling, go to sleep. I’ll be here the whole time, I promise. Just sleep love, you deserve it.” He said as he kissed your forehead and cradled you closer to him.

Given the permission, you slowly closed your eyes as the noises drowned out and sleep washed you away in its delightful presence.

#flower writes #cg!wilbur soot #cg!wilbur #wilbur soot agere #sfw agere fics #wilbur soot age regression #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #agere fics #age regression

[wilbursprincess]

literally any bursona you would like x reader.

smutshot based off dress by taylor swift?:o

“Only Bought This Dress So You Could Take It Off”

Superstarbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure smut omg, Dom!Superstarbur, Sub!Reader, praising, degrading, begging (if you squint), riding, choking (but not really), unprotected sex, this is just so unholy and I’m not sorry

EXCELLENT TASTE IN MUSIC, ☁️ ANON. EXCELLENT. (saw the other ask lmao ik it’s you). This song is insanely queer coded to me lol. Reputation will always be my top album (in case anyone’s curious, my top three are Reputation, 1989, and Fearless) and Dress is just. Mwah. Chef’s kiss.

Fic below cut!

Wilbur’s eyes lock with mine from across the crowded room, making heat rush between my thighs.

“You two have the sweetest friendship,” sighs my friend, sipping wistfully on her cup. “I’d never be able to stay just friends with someone like him.”

I give her what I hope is a cheerful smile. “It’s easy. He’s just my best friend. I’ve never thought of him as anything more.”

Liar.

My friend keeps talking, but my gaze keeps drifting back across the room, admiring Wilbur for the nth time that night. He glances up, making sure nobody’s watching us before giving me a wink, pulling out his phone.

Wilbur: i need you.

Wilbur: make an excuse.

Wilbur: i’ve been dreaming about what i want to do to you all night.

I give my friend an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but I’ve got work in the morning. Wilbur’s about to take me home.”

At least the second part of that isn’t a lie.

Right on cue, Wilbur walks up, making my stomach tighten, placing a protective hand on my lower back.

“Sorry to steal her away,” he jokes, face cheerful, but his hand sliding down and cupping my ass tells me everything I need to know.

The second we make it outside, Wilbur’s got me roughly shoved against the wall, kissing me so hard I gasp. His hand slips up my thigh, rubbing circles in my drenched panties.

“Do you have any idea,” he pants. “What you do to me?”

“I think I have a general idea,” I reply. “It’s pressing into my leg.”

“I’m going to take you home and do the unholiest of things to that gorgeous, gorgeous body of yours, ok, princess?” Wilbur coos, and I frantically nod. “Good girl.”

We barely make it into his bedroom before he tosses me into the middle of the bed, running his hands over my body through the thigh fabric of my dress.

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off,” I murmur against his parted lips as I unbutton his shirt.

“Knowing how wet I make you from across a room when everyone thinks we’re just friends is almost pathetic,” Wilbur replies silkily, fumbling with his belt buckle. “You love that, don’t you, you little slut?”

I groan at the sight of his bare chest. “God, yes.”

He tugs my dress off over my head with one hand and yanks my thong off with the other. “I’ll never get enough of seeing you all naked and spread out in the sheets for me.”

Wilbur leans down, burying his face between my thighs and licking up the wetness pooling between them. “Oh my goodness,” he murmurs into the soft skin. “I could drown in this pretty pussy.”

“Please,” I whine, tugging on his curls. “Please, Wilbur.”

He snickers. “Please what, baby? You know I can’t do what you want if you don’t use your words for me.”

“Please…” I gasp. “Please fuck me.”

Wilbur smiles, pulling back to tug his pants and boxers off. “There you go, sweetheart. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

God, he’ll be the death of me.

“Saddle up, love.”

We groan in unison as I sink down onto his cock, Wilbur’s hands grasping my hips and pulling me down. We start to move together and my head goes fuzzy from pleasure, swirling my hips as I take every inch he gives me.

“Bounce for me,” he groans, letting out a long, low, moan as I do exactly as he asks. “Good girl.”

This angle is hitting exactly where I need it too, and when Wilbur reaches around to rub my clit in time with my movements, I know I’m an absolute goner.

“I’m so close,” I cry out, legs shaking as the waves of pleasure washes over me. “Fuck, right there.”

Laughing, Wilbur grabs one of my nipples, twisting it between his fingers until I cry out. “So close already, huh?” He says teasingly. “Pathetic little thing, falling apart on my cock.”

I scream out his name as I tip over the edge, shuddering from overstimulation as he keeps thrusting into me.

“You can give me one more?” Wilbur says, and I nod. “That’s my girl. Lay down for me.”

Shakily, I climb off him, whining as he tosses my legs over his shoulders and dives back in.

He’s pounding into me fast and hard, every whine and groan music to my ears. One hand is snuggly around my throat, the other playing with my tits and only adding to the pleasure.

“You’re absolutely soaked, love,” teases Wilbur, nibbling and sucking at a spot on my neck I know will be visible tomorrow. “Does it really feel that good?”

I frantically nod. “Feels so good,” I manage to whine out, sinking my teeth into his lower lip. “Fuck.”

“Gonna cum with me, baby?” Wilbur asks, thrusts growing sloppy as he wills himself to keep going for me.

“Yes,” I gasp. “Oh, God, yes,”

My second climax hits me like a train, lasting so long I practically see stars floating in my vision. Just as I start to come down from the high, Wilbur cries out my name, pulling out and releasing all over my stomach.

“Hang on,” he whispers gently, kissing my forehead before reaching into his nightstand and grabbing a towel. “Thought I should be prepared this time.”

I laugh wearily, letting him clean both of us up a little.

“So much for you being my best friend,” I murmur sleepily. “God, you’re so good in bed.”

Wilbur leans down and softly plants a kiss on my lips. “I’ve never slept with someone who makes me feel like you do.” He tugs me against his chest, curled as the little spoon, gently kissing the deep purple mark he left just minutes earlier. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Always.”

#princesswrites #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur x you #superstarbur #princessfics #taylor swift #dress taylor swift #bursona #bursona smut #mcyt smut #wilbur mcyt #☁️ anon

[modelbus]

Tommyinnit x masc nb reader where they don't try to hide their relationship from the internet, but at the same time refuse to confirm nor deny it.

Like...they have pictures online of them on dates, wearing each others clothes, in each other's background during stream, etc, etc. The evidence is right there??? But they don't confirm it. Matter of fact, they don't even "know who that ugly mug in the picture is".

Wilbur is the first one to leak their relationship tho, woops.

”whoops” killed me. Also, look at my funny little guy in the photo! It felt fitting.

Pairing: CC!Tommyinnit x Nb!Reader (romantic)

Evading Evidence

Tommy’s streaming when you get tired of scrolling through Twitter. Normally you’re able to sit on his bed, just out of sight of his camera, and catch up on all the drama. It’s been a quiet few days though, so you’re already bored.

“I’m going to run to the store real quick.” You say, getting up.

Tommy turns, neither of you acknowledging the stream. Chat’s going crazy about the fact you were there the entire thirty minutes Tommy’s been live for, and possibly longer.

Despite the fact you and Tommy were dating, neither of you had let the internet know yet. Sure, there were pictures and Tweets and remarks basically confirming it, but both of you were careful never to say it outright. At this point it was almost a game.

“Oh, can you get me twin gummy snakes?” Tommy asks, practically begging you with his eyes.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I need fuel and you love me?”

You consider it for a second before giving in. “Fine. I’ll be back in, like, ten minutes.”

“Thanks! Don’t get run over!”

“Why would I- never mind.”

Tommy doesn’t turn back towards the stream until after he hears you leave, shutting the door behind you. It’s only then that he takes notice of the chat freaking out over his words.

“Chat, what the fuck are you talking about? They don’t love me. Actually, I don’t have a clue who the fuck that was!” He exclaims. “Back to Minecraft.”

-

“Hey, is this okay to post?” Jack Manifold asks, practically shoving his phone into your face.

You take it, examining the Twitter draft. It’s a selfie he took before the filming of the latest Tom Simons vlog. Behind him you can barely see you and Tommy curled up on the couch together, looking at something. The photo is captioned “Tom Simons vlog done.”

“Sure. Tommy?” You ask, handing the phone over to him.

He barely takes a look at it. “Yeah.”

“Thanks!” Jack says cheerfully, immediately posting.

“Time to fight the stans like our lives depend on it.” You joke, already opening Twitter and navigating to Jack’s profile.

“It’s fucking funny.” Tommy laughs.

“Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. What’re you tweeting?”

“I’ll reply to yours.” He leans over to watch you type out your reply, reading it aloud. “'Not Jack photoshopping the background'.”

“Are you two ever going to tell the internet?” Jack asks, laughing a little.

“Oh, the internet definitely knows. They just chose to believe us when we lie to their faces.” You answer.

“I’m replying ‘incredibly disrespectful.’” Tommy announces. You get the notification of his reply right after he says it.

“Don’t get me canceled.” Jack sighs.

“No promises.”

-

"Why are you talking about Tommy so much?" A donation asks.

You were doing a just chatting stream, spilling some fun stories. A few of them had been dates with Tommy, but you didn't call them dates. Chat still had their suspicions though.

"Because I hate him." You deadpan, staring into your camera. "Worst person ever, kill all Tommyinnits."

It barely takes a second for the chat to react to your words, thousands of people calling you a liar. As your eyes flick through messages, one catches your eye.

"Why are you wearing his hoodie then, hm?" Gets read aloud. "Well, you see, it simply isn't his. This very clearly branded Tommyinnit hoodie? Mine."

It's merch of his that hadn't shipped yet, his name displayed across your chest. The only possible way for you to have some would be him giving you some or you stealing his. One guess as to what you did.

Yeah, you took his.

"I have the fastest shipping in the world guys, you have to believe me."

Nobody believes you. It's not even the first time you've worn his clothes, just the first you've worn them on stream. Maybe you should've been a little more careful, but oh well. Who really cares anyways? The game was fun, but not too serious.

"Besides, as if I'd ever wear something Tom fucking Simons tainted with his gremlin hands." It's a fun little jab, one you know he'll hear about later. Probably from Twitter.

"Hey!" Tommy yells from somewhere in the flat.

Or maybe he'll hear about it right that second. He must be watching your stream, making you smile.

"Sorry." You say it in a way that clearly shows you don't mean the apology, laughing to yourself a little. After running a hand through your hair, you speak again. "Did I tell you guys about how I almost killed a person by riding a bike the other day?"

-

Of course, all jokes eventually end. This one just happens to meet its death in Wilbur's hands, live on stream.

“We’re out, we’ll see you tomorrow for the vlog.” Tommy says, pulling you to your feet.

It’s been over an hour of being on Wilbur’s stream, stuck in his little cramped office. One person was fine, two could fit, but three was just too much. Besides, you knew Tommy’s limit was an hour.

“Have a good stream!” You tell Wilbur cheerfully, shutting the door before he gets the chance to say goodbye. To make up for it, he waves.

“And there go the lovers.” Wilbur jokes to his stream, putting himself back into the middle of the frame now you and Tommy are gone. “Off to do whatever they do.”

It barely takes a minute for chat to explode, making Wilbur realize exactly what he just did. His face drains of color as he sits up.

“Shit- fuck. It was a joke, guys. A joke.”

Like a dog with a bone, chat’s already taken his words and ran with them. Wilbur’s fuck up is beyond repair. Instead of digging himself a deeper grave, he just messages you and Tommy.

You’re both back in his office in a matter of seconds, having sprinted back down the corridor. It wasn’t that you were upset, more just panicked. This definitely wasn’t how you meant to confirm it.

“Well… shit.” Tommy finally speaks, just off camera. “You’ve leaked it Wil.”

“I didn’t fucking mean to!”

“We should leak something about you in return.” You joke.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to!” Wilbur quickly defends himself.

Tommy pokes his head into the camera frame to address chat, grinning to show he isn’t pissed at Wilbur at all. You laugh, waiting to see what he’ll say.

“Oi, chat, you’re all fucking dumb. Took you lot long enough.”

Wilbur sags with visible relief, glad neither of you are going to kill him for his slip-up. Now that it’s established he didn’t ruin everything, it’s a lot funnier.

“We’re going to miss the movie showing.” You announce, checking your phone for the time.

“Fuck. Bye again.” Tommy laughs as you drag him out the door.

When the door shuts, Wilbur laughs and shakes his head. “Whoops?”

#tommyinnit mcyt #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit #mcyt #dsmp #tommyinit dsmp #tommyinnit imagine #mcyt imagine

[heartofwritiing]

You are my sunshine

paring: q!wilbur x fem!reader

summary: a glimpse of a night of you taking care of tallulah and she asks you to sing her a song.

authors note: Dont mind me, just a self indulgent motherhood fic. alsooo reader and q!wilbur are married and are raising tallulah together but since wilbur is on tour reader is alone so hes not in this just mentioned! also also i got teary when bbh was singing this to dapper the other night :/

enjoyy!

warnings: domestic fluff, mother-daughter relationship, short, unedited! please ignore any mistakes! lol

It was a good day spent with your daughter Tallulah. You had mostly spent time at the house working on the garden, and even went on a little picnic for lunch! Despite the fact that both of you were attacked and almost knocked out by mobs. you both managed to escape with not much harm done to either of you.

You were thankful for the training Phil had put you through awhile ago to defend yourself against mobs. You just wished you were more stronger.

Now you are in your shared safe little house by the river Wilbur had spent days building for you and your growing family. It was the perfect space, with a small kitchen and an upstairs bedroom for your daughter.

Tallulah came into your lives unexpectedly. After missing the adoption day, you and wilbur had been out exploring a few weeks later and came across the abandoned adoption center building. You had been the one to noticed the trap door in the celling and found little Tallulah huddled in the corner of the attic. She was covered in dirt and shaking like a leaf in the dark. For weeks she had been alone to fend for herself while everyone had found their children and were taken care of. You felt so heartbroken and partly guilty. you wanted to find whoever left her in that cold dark place to make them pay.

You were already so protective of the little girl and you practically begged Wilbur to take her back home. He was hesitant at first, he never really wanted kids, he never felt ready even after you were married and had talked about it. Plus he knew he was leaving again soon and didn’t want to leave you two alone. However, as soon as she played her little flute, and you gave him the best puppy eyes you could muster he rolled his eyes playfully and caved.

Little did Wilbur know that after only a few hours with the girl, watching how you interacted with her made his mind do a complete one-eighty. How you effortlessly switched into a motherly roll made him see that this was right and he became attached to her just as much as you were and there was no looking back.

-

The sun set over the trees, crickets chirped as you settled down for the night. You sat with Tallulah in your lap as you brushed through her curly brown hair that resembled her fathers way too much. It was unruly to take care of most of the time, much like Wilbur’s when it got too long. It almost seemed too much of a coincidence that Tallulah resembled him, down to the hair and red beanie, her musical abilities, ect. You didn’t think much of it considering this island worked in mysterious ways and you were happy regardless.

You had done all the basic bedtime routine objectives and had gotten her into her pjs shortly after coming home and now was the time to unwind, especially after the day you had.

Before Wilbur left to tour the world with his band you both slept on the sofa, you curled up into his chest like a cat. This didn’t bother him in the slightest it was perfect for you two. Since he left, you had been alone on that yellow sofa staring up into the celling until you drifted off.

Some nights Tallulah woke you with her sobs from her nightmares. Rushing to be at her side to aid her, you would try your best to calm her down with soothing words. Her cries would die down to small hiccups and she would look up at you with puffy eyes and a runny nose. A silent plea not to leave and you would stay with her, telling her story’s, and singing her lullabies until her eyelid’s fell into sweet slumber.

As time went on you ended up falling asleep next to her and wake with her cuddling up to you and eventually this became a routine.

You cherished these moments, watching her drift off to sleep in your arms. You knew that she was beginning to trust you, and it filled you with a warmth and joy that you had never felt before. She seemed to be getting more comfortable with you and trust you more, you’d be dammed if you broke that trust now and swore to protect her with your life. She was too precious.

Once you were finished gently brushing out the last knot in her hair you placed the brush down.

"Alright, all done! Are you ready to go to sleep now?" you asked.

She nodded but moved away from you to reach over the nightstand to grab her pencil and little notebook she used to communicate.

Ever since you found her she hadn’t really talked much. You figured it was a response due to trama from whoever left her alone in that attic. It only broke your heart more to see a child of her age feel so uncomfortable with expressing herself.

You were always patient with her, allowing her to take her time and find the words she was looking for. She opened the notebook and began to write, slowly, but with a purpose. You sat there watching her waiting.

She flipped the tiny note pad over in her hands when she was finished and you read the letters. She looked up at you with hopeful eyes as you read the words and felt a wave of emotion come over you.

Will you sing to me, Mamá?

At the single word, tears threatened to spill from your eyes. This was the first time she had called you that directly. It tugged at your heartstrings to think she considered you her mother. Collecting yourself before you got too emotional you nodded and said;

"Of course, sweetheart,"

The little girl's eyes sparkled with joy as she watched you get up to grab Wilbur's old acoustic guitar that sat in the corner of the room. It had been collecting dust since he left and you weren't as good as him but you would try for your daughter. You carefully carried the guitar to the center of the room and began to strum some chords to check that it was in tune.

You thought for a moment of what to play, until you remembered, one of the first songs Wilbur had taught you would be perfect.

You moved to sit back on the bed and Tallulah shifted closer to you.

"You'll have to excuse me. I'm not as good as your papa," you chuckle. You took a deep breath and began playing the melody.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

you make me happy when skies are gray

you'll never know dear how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away.

It caused a lump to form in your throat thinking about the first time Wilbur first sang this to you. It was at a point in your life when you were having frequent nightmares, (much like tallulah.) you would wake in colds sweats screaming and crying until you couldn’t breath.

It was your only second time staying over at Wilbur’s, you had woken him up with your crying. He had gently shaken you until you were blinking your eyes up at him. He held you that night and sang you this softly under his breath until you had fallen asleep in his arms.

It ironically becomes your song. A comfort in your relationship whenever you sing it to the other in moments of conflict. You hoped it would provide the same comfort to the little girl you’d grown to love and cherish.

The other night, dear as I lay sleeping I dreamed I held you In my arms

When I awoke, dear I was mistaken

So I hung my head and I cried

When you finished the last chord she clapped her tiny hands softly, her smile widened even more and her eyes stared at you in awe. you felt your heart swell as she crawled over to you to envelope you in a hug. You squeeze her tightly against you but just enough that she can pull away if needed.

Tallulah pulled out her notepad again, and wrote;

Thank you, Mamá. That was beautiful!

“You’re welcome,“ you placed the guitar at the foot of the bed, carefully ensuring it was set up right so it wouldn’t fall. “im glad you liked it!” Your gaze shifted back to Talulah who began writing something else but tucked it close to her chest.

She flipped the notepad in her hands to show you what she had written and your heart sank.

I miss papa.

Your chest sank and the weight of Wilbur being gone settled back in again. It felt different without him here. Like a piece was missing in your lives.

“I miss him too,” you replied, whipping tears from your cheeks and swallowing the lump in your throat. "But he will be back before you know it.”

Tallulah nodded and placed her notepad and pen back on the nightstand. You helped her get settled by tucking her in and putting out the lantern, you climb into bed beside her and kiss her on the head as sleep is already taking her into its soft embrace. You whisper "sweet dreams, mi nina,” and you swear a faint smile appears across her lips. You remain there until you drift off to sleep yourself.

Tomorrow you would write to Wilbur and tell him about your week. You couldn’t wait to see him in a few more weeks and make more memories like these together as a family. For now you’ll settle for nights like these until he returns.

The story about you playing your song for your daughter definitely won't make him tear up.

#q!wilbur x reader #q!wilbur #wilbur soot x fem!reader #wilbur soot x reader #qsmp tallulah #mcyt fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #qsmp fanfiction #fluff

[loversj0y]

hi hi hi for the event: gold rush!!!!!

also congrats!!! 200 is a fucking insane amount and im so proud of you!! love ur content man!!!!!! :3

gold rush

event masterlist

pairing: wilbur soot x gn! reader

tw: they go to a bar, slight angst? just in the sense of unrequited pining (or perhaps... requited?) some self deprication

notes: fun fact! this song will be utilized again on my blog because it is the main song inspiration for part four of my tis the damn season au. bc of that, i had to come at this with a bit of a different angle creatively which was pretty fun ngl

word count: 1.2k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

You had a problem. You hated Wilbur Soot. 

You knew him well, you two have been friends for a while after meeting at a mutual friend’s party. At first glance, you knew you hated him. With every fibre of your being you hated him. 

You hated him for one specific reason. You wanted him more than anything. He was gorgeous, tall and always looking like the sun chose only him to shine on. He had these soft brown locks of hair that always seemed to curl just the right way, even when he wasn’t trying. He’d come in with a beanie with the curls just peeking out, but once he’d pull the beanie off, they’d immediately settle in a beautiful pattern, waves of brown deserving of attention. 

And his eyes. You couldn’t fathom looking into him in fear that you’d be completely swept into them, lost in his gaze forever. His eyes were like pools of pure bronze, and you could feel yourself melting into them. Every time you looked into them it was like you could imagine an entire life and future with him by your side, living together and sneaking around in love.

But you also had to cope with the idea that it wasn’t real.

The worst part about it was when you knew you’d be seeing him. Your friend groups had a major overlap, so any gathering you knew you would be seeing him. Like tonight. You made yourself look a bit nicer, and you had to tell yourself it wasn’t because you’d be seeing Wilbur – even if you knew it was a lie. The bar would be dark, so there was almost no point to making sure you looked so nice. You felt the need to do it anyways. 

When you showed up, most of your friends were already there. Wilbur was too. He wore this brown button up, with the sleeves pulled up, and fuck he must know what he’s doing to you. He had to know. His arms were muscular from playing guitar, and they were an impressive sight. You had to force your eyes to move on as you approached. 

Everyone greeted you as you sat, smiling around at everyone as you lost yourself in the drone of the music and conversation. You refrained from looking over at Wilbur, too worried you’d lose yourself in your own staring. It was tough, though. He was like the sun in an otherwise dark bar, and he always seemed to catch your attention. You had to keep reminding yourself to look away, which made you pay less attention to the conversation your friends were having.

That ended up being a mistake, within minutes you realized that the majority of your friends were leaving, except for, of course, Wilbur. It was awkward, at least to you. He seemed perfectly content to sit there and look out at the people around him, just quietly observing. 

The observation fell final when it reached you, somewhat zoned out at you stared at him and pondered a future that could never be.

“You alright?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry,” you flushed slightly, looking away.

He chuckled, “it’s alright. How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been good,” you spoke plainly, “You? How’s the band?”

“Good!” He perked up at the mention of the band, “We’ve been working on music and stuff, and it’s been going really well. If it weren’t so loud, I’d show you some, I have a bunch of voice memos on my phone.” He spoke so enthusiastically, and it made your heart hurt slightly. 

“Another time then,” you smiled softly, trying to be as polite despite the mixture of pining and anxiety in your chest. 

He nodded, “yeah, another time.” He went quiet, but it wasn’t for long. A girl approached from the bar, coming over and chatting him up. That was a big thing. Wilbur wasn’t just attractive to you, he was just attractive. Everyone wanted him. And although he was polite and always turned them down, for whatever reason, it still was a sight to see. He could have anyone he wanted, and the chances you could handle that thought, especially in a relationship, were not high. But it wouldn’t stop your fantasizing. 

Of his eyes, staring at you full of love instead of polite friendliness. Of running your hands through his soft hair and watching it fall back into place. Of making a place in his life, a t-shirt left behind in his room after you go home in the evening. Of walking in his room barefoot to join him in bed at night. Of going to dinner parties and having loving arguments. Of moving to a coastal town together to get away from the noise of city life.

But the fantasies would always fade. And part of you hated them. Because of the blush they left on your face and the way they would always keep you from being able to see him as just a friend. Because moments like this, a girl slowly running her hand down his arm, reminded you of just how unreal your fantasizing is, and how it could never be.

The girl left after what was clearly striking out, and Wilbur turned back towards the table, a faint blush left on his cheeks. It was such a beautiful sight, but you had to keep yourself from getting lost in the fantasies once more, lest you embarrass yourself for all of time to come. 

“Sorry,” Wilbur hummed out, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, happens often?”

He shrugged, “Sometimes.”

“You never say yes.” You noted simply.

He nodded, “Yeah. Just… nothing against them, but I have my eyes sort of set on someone, so it’s not really within my best interests to entertain one night stands at best.”

You chuckled, but you felt your heart sinking slightly, “I guess that makes sense.”

He nodded again, looking away almost shyly. 

The rest of the night was a lot smoother after your friends returned, making the conversation flow easily. By the end of the night, you were exhausted emotionally and socially. You were one of the first to leave, standing outside and waiting for your taxi. The door opened behind you, but you didn’t turn to see who it was. 

Wilbur came and stood next to you, fiddling with his hands, “So, uhm,” he started, “another time?”

You looked over at him, a bit confused, “What?”

“You said another time, inside. I was wondering… when you’d like that to be.”

You faltered a bit, somewhat unsure of what to say, “Uh, I’m free whenever, I guess.”

He smiled softly, “Well, I have a band rehearsal on Tuesday. Would you… want to come?”

You thought for a moment. You should turn it down, knowing how hard it would be on you. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to do so. “Yeah. Sure. Text me the address?”

He nodded softly, face lit up, “Yeah! I will, absolutely. I’ll- uh- I’ll see you then.”

You smiled softly and nodded, “See you then.”

Your cab pulled up, and you watched as Wilbur headed back in. You got in the cab, a gentle smile on your face as you couldn’t help but have a flicker of hope in your chest for the future.

#mar's 200 follower event #mar writes #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur #wilbur soot fluff #mcyt fanfiction