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#wilbur angst
yanushh · 8 months
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"Lovejoy-Consequences" Actually, I'm not a big fan of horny content with anyone in qsmp or dsmp, but with these two I headcanon that as a little spice in their relationship
I'm really tired of doodling every day, I need a break...
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wilbursprincess · 3 months
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Arranged Marriage With Princebur
Princebur x Reader
Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D
Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.
Fic below cut!
When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.
The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?
“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”
My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”
“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”
Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.
“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”
~
“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”
Lovely?
The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.
The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”
I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.
I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?
“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”
I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.
Maybe this won’t be too bad.
“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.
Nevermind.
“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.
The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”
~
I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.
‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’
‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’
‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’
I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.
My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.
“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”
“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”
In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.
My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.
“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”
My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.
“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”
“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’
Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.
~
“You may now kiss the bride!”
I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.
Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.
He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.
“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.
I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”
“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”
He’s sorry?
“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.
Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”
The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.
“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.
Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.
“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.
Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.
~
“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”
I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.
Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.
The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.
“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”
Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.
“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”
I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”
He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”
“Baby shoes and socks.”
“An evening gown.”
“A baby blanket.”
“Some cufflinks.”
“Baby clothes.”
Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”
“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”
His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”
“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”
Another awkward silence.
“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”
Something to d- oh. That.
I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.
~
The nightgown is certainly… something.
It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.
The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.
Now I see what she meant.
There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”
“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”
A solid 5 seconds of silence.
“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”
When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”
My face burns. “It is.”
“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.
The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.
I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.
“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”
~
Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.
I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.
Oh God, was I wrong.
There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.
I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.
The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.
I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.
“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”
~
I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.
“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”
The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”
Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.
He’s on my side.
“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.
The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”
“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”
She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”
The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”
I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”
Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”
Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”
“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”
I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.
“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”
He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”
“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”
Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”
“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”
Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”
~
“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”
He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”
“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.
“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”
I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”
Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”
“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”
He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”
Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”
“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”
We’re both silent for a few moments.
“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”
I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.
“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.
His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.
“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.
“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“
Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.
When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.
“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.
“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.
My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…
…And it snaps.
I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.
“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”
While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.
“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.
“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.
Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.
“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”
I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.
The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.
“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”
“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.
Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.
“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.
He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.
~
Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.
One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.
“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”
I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.
“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”
While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.
“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”
He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”
I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”
I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.
There’s no going back now.
~
We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.
His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.
“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”
All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.
The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.
Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.
I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.
“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”
“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”
He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.
The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.
My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.
~
“Wait!”
I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.
“Please, wait!”
It was Wilbur’s voice.
Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.
“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”
“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”
The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.
~
Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.
Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.
Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.
I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.
“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”
The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.
I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…
…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.
“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”
Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.
“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.
He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too.”
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haunted-headset · 4 months
Text
📱 Going Postal At The Party 📱
summary: Wilbur thinks you're cheating on him at a party. Turns out he was very wrong.
a/n: this was based off of either a Chris or Matt Sturniolo fic that I read that I can't remember the name of, if any of you know what this fic is, plz lemme know!
contains: cursing, angst with a happy ending, flirting, crying, texts, use of Y/N, pet names, jealousy, Wilbur's a bit of a dick, mentions of bad exes & thought of cheating (let me know if i missed anything!!
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@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)
word count: 942
You had dragged Wilbur to a house party your friend invited you to. You could tell he didn't want to, mainly due to the fact that his mind would be plagued by the idea of other people hitting on you or trying to get with you. It also didn't help that you looked drop-dead gorgeous; you had a white button-up shirt tucked into short, tight denim shorts with a black tie & fishnets; truly a sight for sore eyes.
"I'm gonna go get us some drinks, okay?" you said to Wilbur, who had his arms wrapped around your waist.
"Alright, love. Be careful. & come back quickly," he told you, kissing your forehead. You smiled & left for the bar. You told the bartender the drinks you wanted & you sat on one of the sticky stools, waiting for your drinks to be prepared.
"Oh my god, Y/N!" a cheerful voice said from behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see Claude, an old coworker back when you used to work at the coffee shop across the street from your shared apartment with Wilbur. "It's been forever, girl!"
"Claudy!" you said happily, giving him a hug. "It's been ages! How's life been?"
"I got engaged!" he said, showing you the ring on his finger. You gasped & clapped happily, holding his hand to examine the ring. "He's such a good guy. His name's James, 6'4, plays the drums, & he loves cats & rain."
"Sounds like a Wattpad dream man," you teased. He playfully swatted your arm with a laugh.
"How's your relationship with Wilbur been?" he asked. "Last time I remember, you were head over heels for him, right?"
"He's the best," you said dreamily. "He's such a gentleman, & he's so good to me."
"That's good!" he said, his hand now resting on your arm. "I'm so happy for you, Y/N. You deserve him. & this is a reward for having to put up with shitty exes."
"Oh my God, you're so right," you said, resting your hand on his arm, too. "Remember Jared?"
"Oh. My. Days," he sighed. "Such a dickhead. Girl, I have no idea how you survived being in a relationship with him. Give me some of your patience right now."
You laughed & were about to say something when you felt your phone buzz. "It's probably from Wil," you told Claude. You opened up the text.
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Your heart started to beat out of your chest. Did he actually think you were cheating on him?
"You okay?" Claude asked. You didn't respond.
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Claude had seen the texts & let you leave without a word. You walked outside & it was pouring rain, which meant you had to stand in the rain for at least five minutes until your ride came. Great.
When the Uber finally arrived, you were shivering & dripping with rainwater & the smell of petrichor hung on your skin, & you got into the car as you tried your hardest not to cry.
"How's your night been?" the Uber driver asked.
"It's been alright!" you lied, putting on a fake happy tone. "How about you?"
"Eh, not too bad," she said. "My girlfriend didn't want me to take any drives tonight because of how rainy it is." She laughed slightly. "She's always so worried for me." You laughed in return & you two didn't say anything for the rest of the night.
When she pulled up to the house, she politely bid you adieu & made sure you got to the door before driving off. You opened the door to the apartment & looked around. He wasn't in the kitchen or in the living room. Maybe he hadn't gotten home yet. You took off your shoes & left your bag on the kitchen counter as you trudged upstairs.
"Darling!" Wilbur sprang up from the bed when you entered the bedroom. He immediately dropped to his knees & kissed the backs of your hands, the palms, the knuckles, & the wrists while telling you how wildly sorry he was.
"What's on the bed?" you asked, looking over at the bed, covered in objects.
"Your favorites," he told you, standing up. "Snacks, candy, drinks, & your favorite flavor of ice cream. I also got you those new slippers you had wanted the other day when we were at Target, a blanket, & a few stuffed animals, too. There's a cat, a Pompompurin,--I'm pretty sure he's your favorite Sanrio character, but, if I was wrong, I got you a Keroppi plush, too, & a My Melody one--& a green dinosaur that looks like Dino from that one game you like...what was it called? Oh, yeah, Like A Dino. I also restocked your skincare stuff & your hair stuff, since you told me you were running out."
Without even realizing it, you started crying. You brought a hand up to your mouth to hide the expression you were making when you cried.
"Did I do something wrong, baby?" asked Wilbur, kissing your hairline & your forehead repeatedly. "Why're you crying?"
"I-I just--I got so mad at you over text & you still got all of this for me," you hiccupped.
"You had every right to be mad at me, my moon," he whispered, removing your hand away from your mouth to press a light kiss to your lips. "I was a bitch & I was being so rude to you, & you didn't deserve that." Without warning, he picked you up bridal-style, causing you to yelp & immediately wrap your arms around his neck.
"C'mon, sweet baby. Pick a movie & let's go cuddle."
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cathers-world · 2 months
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Ok my thoughts on the Wilbur and Shelby thing.
So there is a lot of evidence pointing to Wilbur, but they never dated and Wilbur is super respectful to women it would be absolutely shocking if he did that.
I do feel we should not be focusing on who did it and more on what she went through.
I’m not really on a side because there really isn’t and shouldn’t. but until Wilbur is proven guilty by Shelby or himself I believe he is innocent.
I will not be writing for him until that happens and in the chance we find out he did do that I will not continue to write for him.
Love, Cathers
(P.S. if any on you are going through abuse or anything like that please tell someone, and if you need to say anything to someone you don’t actually know, feel free to DM or send in a submission talking to me, stay safe!)
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xoxoamyas · 3 months
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Café Girl
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rating : fluff/angst, hospitalization, and a protest mention.
wilbur x fem!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]
☆ you meet wilbur at a café you frequent. instantly, you two hit it off. after a while of talking, you randomly go no-contact only for him to find out you're in the hospital. he doesn't intend to leave your side. <3
note : n/a [ hope you enjoy :] ]
request [ ☆ ]
masterlist [ ☆ ]
⋆˙⟡
The café was your favourite. You were a regular since you had first heard of it sometime within the past year or so.
Wilbur wasn't a regular, only having recently heard of the place. He thought he'd give it a try, scope it out to see if he and his friends could film in the spot.
You were working on your laptop in a booth, studying for an upcoming test you had in one of your college courses. A few books to the side closest to the wall, your laptop right in front of you as you slowly scrolling through the materials on a PowerPoint you had been sent via email by one of your professors.
You didn't see him right away, but he saw you. He had ordered himself a refresher, lemonaid of some sort, and was looking for a place to sit. You had seemed like you had your own bubble, but that wasn't what caught his eye entirely.
Wilbur had seen the slight furrow of your brow and the light nibble on your lip before you had gone to sip on your latte.
“Excuse me, ma'am?” You looked up, focus having been broken by the voice some odd feet besides you. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
In an instant, you were taken by surprise. Having not expected someone of his stature to even talk with you. The way his brown hair was the perfect amount of fluffy and just barely in his eyes. The plain beige sweater he wore over his white collared polo. He was put together, and it was obvious.
“Uhm, sure, I don't mind.” You gave him a nervous smile, mentally degrading yourself for practically stuttering over your words. Moving slightly to fix the books to the side so that they were more organised. You made sure all of the tabs on your laptop were saved properly before shutting that, too, and resting one of your hands over the top of it.
“Thank you. What were you studying for?” He decides to ask, skipping introductions out of pure curiosity. He had seen the glimpse of a power point, but hadn't read anything on the screen out of respect for your privacy.
“Oh, nothing. Just for an upcoming test.” You shrug, watching as he had sat down across from you and practically nursed the refresher between his hands. “I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?”
“Oh, don't apologize. Should have started with that.” Wilbur lightly chuckled, having brought a hand up to nervously run along his neck. Suddenly self-conscious over the potential stubble rash that could have been along his neck. To him, you were gorgeous, and he didn't want to screw up before he had the chance to even know your name.
“I'm Wilbur, but you can call me Will, if you'd like.” He offers the hand he hadn't used to run along his neck for a handshake in proper greeting. Smiling a bit more when he hears you say your name in return to him as you shook his hand.
He repeats your name back to you, a certain smooth undertone to his voice as he does so. It nearly sent shivers up your spine, but instead, you chose to relax and practically melt.
“Do you come here often?” He asks after a moment of just taking your features in. Both of his hands now along his drink, just holding it to try and calm any rising nerves.
“Yeah, I guess I can be considered a regular. I've come here every day for a while. I don't always get anything like I used to because the entire staff here knows me.” You let out a light laugh, a small flush going over your face in embarrassment. You spent more time at the café than you did your own flat. It was just a soothing environment to be in.
“I think that's cute.” Wilbur comments with a small smile, not missing the way you subtly moved to sip your latte to hide the embarrassment on your face. “I hope you wouldn't mind if I joined you some of those days?” He asks, in hopes of getting to know you. He wanted to at least be your friend, even if in the moment all he wanted to do was take you out on a date to see if you two could click anymore than he felt you two already had.
“Oh, no, I don't mind the company at all.” You can't help but smile, that warmth flooding through your chest as you felt like there were butterflies in your stomach. “I’m usually here at about the same time every day.” He offers a smile, taking mental note of your words.
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.”
Conversation continued on like that for a little while, just getting to know each other. He found out you had a pet cat that stayed with your parents. You found out that he likes to play the guitar and that he’s self-taught.
It goes like that for a few days up until Sunday hits. Having long exchanged numbers sometime a few days prior.
Wilbur hadn't seen you at the café like he thought he would. It made his stomach twist in discomfort, having not seen you in your usual spot with your nose in a book or tapping away at your laptop. He had asked one of the employees at first, trying to see if you were potentially there earlier but had no luck. He waited a good ten minutes at first before shooting you a text message. Leaving after a good forty minutes of waiting since he had made plans with one of his friends beforehand and couldn't stick around.
There was no sign of you Monday, nor Tuesday. Wednesday, a gnawing feeling was chewing at his gut. He had texted you a lot over the past seventy or so hours to no avail. No response after the next.
Maybe you didn't have as much interest in him as he initially thought you would have? But then you wouldn't have said yes to exchanging phone numbers or letting him sit with you. You weren't the type to lead someone on like that, and it was clear.
Thursday, he heard nothing once more. Friday, he tried calling a few different times only to end up going straight to voicemail. Had your phone been turned off or dead? You typically had it charged and available for any communication.
Saturday, he tries the café employees again. And he felt both like a weight was lifted off only to have another added right on.
Sunday, he was rushing into a hospital that had been within the area. The employee he had talked to ended up telling Wilbur you were hospitalised, yet not what for. It made him feel physically ill the moment the words processed in his mind. It had been beyond visiting hours when he initially found out, though, so he couldn't do anything anyway.
Wilbur had given your name to the front receptionist, the lady taking longer than she should have to give a room number. The second he had the number, he was rushing to find you.
He muttered a swear beneath his breath the second he reached your room, pulling his dishevelled self together before calmly as possible, opening the door. Wilbur could feel his heart simultaneously break and deflate, seeing you hooked up to a heart rate monitor as well as an IV.
Will took the seat closest to you, taking one of your hands in both of his own. A small sigh escaped his lips as he pulled your hand to his mouth, kissing the knuckles of your hand.
Your lip was fairly busted paired with a black eye, what looked to be bruising along some of your neck and more sprinkled along what he could see of your arms. Your knuckles were red and fairly scraped.
It definitely wasn't good, but you were clearly tended to. It must have been bad, especially if you were potentially there since last Sunday. It made him want to simultaneously cry and put down whoever put you in this hospital bed.
“Will?” Your voice is light and hoarse, mostly on the quieter side.
“Hey, hey, don't strain yourself.” He's quick to move, gently pressing on of his hands to your shoulder to prevent you from moving to sit up. Instantly feeling bad when he sees you flinch at the motion.
“Sorry.. What's goin’ on?” You ask, words lightly slurring together. You must've been on some sort of medication to help with any pains.
“I'm not sure. One of the employees at the café told me you were hospitalised. That was it. Do you remember what happened?” His voice is soft as he asks, clearly not wanting to hash up the memory of it but not knowing was killing him. He needed to know why you looked so beat up.
“There was a protest goin’ on at my college.” You hum a bit, moving your free hand to rub at one of your eyes. Slightly flinching when your hand made contact with your eye. “Think it got out of hand.”
Wilbur can't help but sigh, brows furrowing in thought. He mutters a swear to himself, bringing your hand right back up to his mouth. His lips pressing against your knuckles once more, this time for a little bit longer.
“Go back to sleep, okay? Focus on feeling better.” He murmured out for you to hear, one of his hands moving up to gently cup your cheek. His thumb gently grazing along your skin, trying to be comforting in the moment.
Will smiles a bit when you lean into the touch, seeing you nod even the smallest amount. His heart nearly melted as he watched you close your eyes.
“I love you,” He whispered after a long moment of silence. His heart felt like it was breaking when you didn't respond, though he knew you wouldn't since it didn't take long for you to fall asleep.
Wilbur wasn't going anywhere.
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r0tten-ruzt · 7 months
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My version of c!wilbur went from like "personification of the song revived by derivakat" when he was first revived to "i just want to be validated and loved" in the matter of months
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barzfrommarz · 3 months
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don't think of c!wilbur in limbo desperalty crying for his mommy, the goddess of death but she won't come. she won't come to comfort him with the loving warm embrace of a mother.
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cloverstellar · 1 year
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HEY THERE
well now I'm in a c!wilbur mood so take this sneak peek at a little unedited snippet I just rushed writing .>.
~~~
He was alone. Alone, alone, alone.
Wilbur knelt into the ground, nimble fingers caressing the coarse dirt with a breathy sob. He looked around, and only the night sky and a lone cactus stood around to greet him.
"Oh god, what have I done."
And with a singular cry he broke, tears coming in full, his face twisting in utter agony as he wept, as he grieved his past.
His hands-the ones that blew up L'manburg, the ones that saluted an unforgiving future with a cry left unheard, the ones that shook hands with the devil and stained his friends blue- spasmed with tremors and raked along the earth.
His life, his home, everything he's had is behind him now.
...Is that what he wanted, really?
After a few minutes he turned, laid on his side, and shivered.
Curled in a ball, he mourned and cursed the skies with comfort only coming from the icy winds and the dry, cracked soil.
Silenty, after a bit, he stood, brushed himself off. Took a look around, and smiled shakily.
Alone.
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yanushh · 8 months
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"Let me die at your hands"
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wilbursprincess · 3 months
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Wilbur and reader breaking up because of their schedules headcanons? (Wilbur going on tour and reader being busy etc)
-✨
Wilbur And His Partner Breaking Up
Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral Reader
Warnings: Angst. Sad. You may cry.
Hi again ✨ anon! I had a very rough day and have never written angst before. This combination will be fantastic /s
Headcannons below cut!
~Wilbur would be swamped with work, both from Sorry Boys and Lovejoy.
~You’d be super busy with family things and your job.
~”Hey baby, you free for dinner this weekend?”
~”So sorry, I work all weekend :( you free the next weekend?”
~”I’m going to the US for tour, remember? It’ll have to be before next Wednesday.”
~In the end, you both reluctantly cancel plans to meet up for a brief dinner.
~”Sweetheart, I hate to say this… but… how is a relationship supposed to work if we never see each other?”
~You’d be dead silent, pensively stirring your drink.
~”We can make it work, right?” You’d say, faking optimism.
~Now it’s Wilbur’s turn to fall silent.
~”I want to, I promise,” he said, hesitantly placing a hand on yours. “But…”
~You can feel your heart drop in your chest, waiting for him to finish the sentence,
~”…I know it’s the best thing for us both to stop trying to make this work.”
~The silence in the air weights heavily on you as you mull over the words.
~”I know you’re right, but I don’t want to believe it,” you’d reply.
~Wilbur gives you a sad smile. “I don’t want to believe it either.”
~He pays the tab, helping you into your jacket, and when you walk out, you realize once you walk away, it’s over.
~”Good luck,” you say, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “With your music. You deserve it.”
~For a second, he looks like he’s about to cry, fixing a fake smile on his face.
~”Thank you,” he murmurs, giving you a quick, awkward hug. “I guess this is goodbye?”
~You barely manage to say goodbye and get in your car before breaking down.
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haunted-headset · 4 months
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wilbur comforting reader after a nightmare? :0
(i tried to think of how to elaborate on that but i think i’ll just leave it up to you while my sleepy brain takes over LMAO)
🌙 I've Got You 🌙
a/n: this is such a cute idea wtf
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@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!!)
word count: 613 (i need to write longer fics i feel like writing short fics is bad but oh well)
contains: reader having a nightmare, use of Y/N, crying, reader having a panic attack, reader thinking Wilbur left them, reader shows signs of depression & anxiety, reader has self-deprecating thoughts
You had awoken with a gasp as you tried to catch your shaky breath & stop your sobs. It was just a dream. A really, really bad dream.
Wilbur, in the dream, had gotten fed up with you. He had gone on a rant about how much of a terrible partner you were & how you were useless & a waste of skin; it was almost as if he had taken every single thought you'd ever had about yourself, soaked them in vitriol till it was dripping, & then spouted it out to make your ears bleed. It was a fear you always had. Maybe it did happen. Maybe he finally fell out of love with you. Maybe he never loved you. Maybe he--
"No, Y/N, that didn't happen," you whispered to yourself through the sobs. "Wilbur's right next to--" You looked over at where Wilbur was supposed to be in bed.
& he wasn't there.
& that's when all of the panic you've ever felt attacked you like a tsunami. You started hyperventilating & sobbing so hard to the point where you were seeing white & your head felt like it was being slowly drilled into & your brain was being turned to mush. Your heart didn't go one millisecond without beating so hard you swore you could see it beating out of your chest, & you were shaking so hard to the point where somebody could've compared you to a vibrating iPhone & nobody would be able to tell the difference.
In a desperate attempt to calm yourself down, you slowly got up & stumbled over to Wilbur's closet to grab one of his hoodies. You pressed the hoodie to your face as you stumbled back to bed & sobbed harder, the scent of his body wash & cologne, earthy & calming & perfect, still faintly there. What did you do? What did you do to make him leave you? You were aware that you were far from a perfect partner, & you were far from attractive, & maybe he had some sort of realization & decided that there were other, better fish in the sea to catch, leaving you at the bottom of the pond, away from the shiny, attractive fish that he was bound to catch.
"Darling?" his voice rang out & echoed against the walls, causing you to look up.
"Oh my God, honey," Wilbur, lovely, amazing Wilbur, whispered, practically jumping onto the bed to pull you into his lap & wrap his arms around you so tightly to the point where you thought you'd never be able to escape his embrace. Not that you were complaining, of course. "I've got you. You're okay, you're alright."
"Why're we crying? What's going on?" he whispered in your ear, rocking you back & forth & wiping your tears.
"I had a bad dream & I thought you left," you croaked through your sobs.
"Baby, I would never even dream of leaving you," Wilbur said. "You're everything to me. You're the reason I wake up in the morning. You're the reason I write songs & play music. You're the reason I'm still here." He kisses your cheek before continuing, "You're the Tori Spring to my Michael Holdman or whatever his name is."
"Michael Holden," you corrected with a tearful laugh.
He smiled at you. "There's my beautiful baby with their beautiful laugh," he whispered.
"Why weren't you in our room?" you asked.
"I was getting water, lovely," he said. "I wasn't leaving, not at all. I wouldn't even dare to think about it. I'd die without you."
"Promise?" you asked.
He linked his pinky with yours. "Swear on my life."
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froggothebozo · 2 years
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Connected to Villains
Story Summary: Y/n Seems to always have connections with Villains.... Romantically....
⚠️TW⚠️: Mention of Wars, Bullying, Getting Replaced, Cheating, Arguing, swearing, crying.
Fluff☁️ to Angst💢
🌟🌟Note: Italic letters are flashbacks🌟🌟
Includes: You, Dream, Wilbur, Sapnap, George, Quackity(mentioned)
Part 1
Part 3(Bad Ending)
Part 4(Good Ending)
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"Sure. you're welcome here anytime. old friend" Dream says
Me and Dream started getting along like the old days
"Stop bullying him or I'm telling!" I shout as the kids run off "Thank you..." The kid with dirty blonde hair said nervously "No problem! I don't like seeing people suffer for no reason!" The kid with a [Hair color] hair.
Silence filled the empty classroom that no one is in but the two children until the [Hair color] headed kid spoke up "I'm [name] what about you?" [Name] says. "I'm...Dream.." Dream says. "Wanna be friends?" The excited kid [name] said "But my mom says to not trust strangers.." Dream says. "I just saved you from bullies! isn't that enough?" The kid pouted "Alright then!" Dream says slightly raising his voice to sound enthusiastic or passionate
From then on..the 2 became inseparable..
until Sapnap and George walked into Dream's life..
They were...left out.. and so they made an excuse that they weren't gonna see them anymore.
In wars Dream and [Name] were distant with each other.. they both didn't want to hurt one another
Dream was glad [Name] thought of him like he was a normal human being and/or a friend. He didn't want to lose this friendship. that was his prize possession. his friends.
"Come in!" Dream says as he shows [Name] his hidden underground base that only both of them know about. they built it together when they were kids. it was tinier than the new one. the new one was huge. (Dream isn't homeless 😨😱😱😱?!?!)
"I see you're less shy now" They say happily "I mean..the more I was with those idiots the more I opened up" Dream says weakly thinking of the memories of them
"Ohhhh you like [Name] don't you?" Sapnap says teasingly. "Little Dweam has a crushhh" George continued teasing with Sapnap. "Stop! so what if I do like them? I don't want to break our friendship." He says annoyed George sighs "If you want to end up together you better do it quick or someone's gonna steal them before you could even confess to them. Dumbass." Sapnap says seriously this time. not teasingly. not annoyingly but genuinely and Sapnap was right but wrong.
"I still have a chance." Dream thought to himself "But not now. they're recovering from a heart break I need to take it slo-"
"Dream? hello???" They say snapping him back to reality. "Sorry. I zoned out." He says slightly stuttering "But uhh.." He says thinking of a way to change the subject while he hides his flushed face.
"You know we built this together so we share this house!" He says with excitement "This was going to be fun" I thought to myself as they smile at me
And you were right you had a lot of fun with Dream. and the two both saw romance but ignored it to avoid destroying their friendship (Oh wait you don't understand? sorry. to not have L friendship)
But then..
Someone came to visit
You and Dream were just chopping wood and is going back to your guy's bases but we hear someone shout.. "[Name]!" Wilbur shouts. You look where you heard Wilbur and rolled your eyes to the thought of him wanting to be together again
Wilbur glares at Dream and looks back to you "[Name]! Can we talk.." Wilbur says tiredly both from running and possibly not sleeping at all because he was crying after seeing his eyes
You and Wilbur Go somewhere where Dream or anyone wouldn't hear. you sigh "What do you want now? we have nothing to talk about." You say tired of his bullshit. "Look. I promise you it's just to manipulate him" He says desperately "Wilbur having a lover and kissing another person 'for manipulation' is still not a reason." You say with a monotone voice "I know. and it was stupid of me to take you for granted and to kiss Quackity but love you know if you told me I would've stopped" He says nervously but still desperate to be with his lover again. "Wilbur I've told you multiple times that flirting with Quackity isn't gonna let you manipulate him. and you still did it" You say almost scoffing from him trying to manipulate you to go back to him again. and then he went quiet. until you broke the silence "If you love Quackity you could've atleast told me." You say sadly "But love I don't-" He was cut off "Just.. go back to him." You say. and he gave up and slowly walks away, crying, and you didn't even notice you were crying until now.
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Hello! it is I. sorry if it's really short I didn't want to finish this whole story in one go cause I want people to be excited with it but but let me know if you guys want an alternative ending of whoever [name] is gonna choose 😱
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faeyrs · 4 months
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brother, if you have the chance to pick me up
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dryya-doesnt · 1 year
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memories from a past life of an unfinished symphony…
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barzfrommarz · 3 months
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sometimes I think about how revived c!wilbur barley having a family or any friends to go to. His mom isn't around, his brother barley even likes him and his dad is kinda just...there...just brushing him off most of the time. He was so alone and even if he liked to pretend he was better but he wasn't, everything is the same but different. He has always been alone and forgotten, just in a new setting
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m4ycrowave · 7 months
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Can't wait to see Wilbur today!!
posting it now in case I end up posting another drawing after the Wilbur stream
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all smiles here nothing will go wrong, nothing goes wrong on qsmp ever!! No sir!!
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