#god!wilbur x reader

[mysticalsoot]

heaven is you (godbur au)

first installment of my godbur au & gift to my sister <3

➸ note; i wanted to finish this for @lillylvjy. lillys been a big play in why i still write and why i haven’t given up on shifting or given up on myself or this account. thanks to her i don’t impulsively delete things and i move forward. a few months ago i threw the idea of godbur at her and we talked about it and formed this character, she gives me the credit but she deserves just as much credit as i do. she’s my sister, regardless of biological attachment, she is my sister. i love her and i will protect her for as long as she’ll let me. she’s always there for me, holding me up and supporting me. if i’m upset or hurt, she’s there to listen and offer support. she also spends way more money on me than she should. and i love her, so a little note, don’t mess with her. thank you lills, i love you and enjoy this lil fic i somehow managed to finish in a day! also big thanks to @sleeby-anon for helping me pick out the photo and just helping me with this fic- tysm! you’re very cool and i love u (thank you for being a good friend to lilly :3 )

➸ pairing; godbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; after a few (actually, many) instances where you risked your life in order to reach your beloved wilbur’s world, you have a final disagreement that brings him to a few realizations and maybe some more effort to bring you want you want

➸ warning; kinda hurt but comfort at end, illusions to suicide but not flat out said, probably swearing, is there an unbalanced power dynamic? probably, uses of baby (i’m sorry i’m a sucker for it-), i think that’s it!

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 2k

main masterlist

"darling," the word rolled off wilbur's tongue with ease, like it had been spoken millions of times. perhaps it had been, but your mind was too foggy with fear and desperation to think clearly, "you can't keep doing this."

he pleads for you, hands on your shoulders and eyebrows pulling together as he looks down at you.

"what else am I supposed to do?" your voice cracks as the words flow out, and he frowns, shaking his head and looking to the side.

"live," he pauses, turning his head to face you. his grip on your shoulders tightens just a bit, "there's more to life than seeking refuge in my world. be alive, live in mortality."

he's begging you, pleading for you. he hates to see you hurt, and he hates the way his world's laws are. you can't be thrust into immortal responsibilities yet, and you can't stay long as a mortal with purpose. you have to go, but you would rather die a million more times before you accept that.

"can't you just let me stay? what's the problem in letting me be free where I want to be, with you," you're pleading with him now. on your hands and knees praying to the god before you to just let you stay. you're standing, knees going weak just a smidge. your eyes are burning from tears and your cheeks are wet with a desperation.

"I can't, I really can't," his frown deepens and he pulls you into his chest, face in his white ruffly shirt. he smells like home, but a home you can never truly have. he cups the back of your head with his hand, rubbing at your scalp with his fingertips as you sigh.

"it's the rules," a kiss to the top of your head and you want to scream and cry and bang at his chest. but you don't, you stay still in his grasp, holding your calm in your hands so tightly.

"the rules are stupid," you mumble into his shirt, he moves a hand to rub your back.

he chuckles, nodding in agreement before speaking again, "I agree, love."

days pass after he sent you back, you mulled over ways and methods you could reach him again in desperate hope he'd finally give in to your pleas and let you stay.

you were wandering the woods, pacing between trees as you tried to narrow down your plans. you could try summoning him, but it wasn't fool proof. you could try to speak to him through meditation, but he sometimes ignored you 'for your sake'.

you weren't sure what would work, and you were kicking yourself for not knowing. but also for the doubts that filled your mind. what if he kicked you out again? told you to never see him again and made sure you couldn't? what if he forced you to live out your mortality purely out of his anger at you. what if he was angry?

you sigh, resting your head against the tree, sighing as you screw your eyes shut, banging your fist against the bark before stepping back.

"what more do you want?" you beckon up at the sky, he's not listening, you're sure of it but you need to be angry at something, somewhere. it's unfair.

"for you to listen," his voice mumbles in your mind and you scoff, shaking your head as the memory of his accent echoes in your mind.

"yeah well, you don't have the best ideas, now do you?"

"y/n.." he murmurs, his tone a gentle warning to you so you don't say something you'll regret. or do something, for that matter.

"wilbur," you copy his tone, mocking it almost before you groan, falling to sit on the ground.

"you know you can't do this, you know that," you can hear the strain in his voice, the way he draws it out and softens it just to reach out to you and make amends for it.

"but what else am I meant to do?" you want to scream at the top of your lungs, cry to him and bitch about the situation you're in. how you're continually denied what you want. you thought you proved yourself, you thought you proved that you could handle immortality. that you could handle him.

it's silent, not a sound is made around you or even echoed in your mind. you wondered if his methods of communication were a curse or a blessing. it felt more like a curse at the moment. it felt like a taunt to you, how powerless you felt down on earth, in morality. you felt so out of control, like a puppet. and maybe wilbur was the puppeteer, but who’s to say it wasn’t someone else? maybe he was just an illusion, a hallucination that controlled your motives and thoughts simply by the prospect of maybe having some hope to grasp onto. a nice, soft candle in the middle of a dark and empty room.

he was the light you couldn’t quite reach.

he finally speaks up, his tone rushed and worried, but his words keep you from second guessing it, “i have an idea.”

“what?” you mumble, nearly tripping over the single word.

“you want to stay with me, yes?” he sounds almost frustrated for a moment before sighing almost exasperated.

“yes, yes, that’s what i’ve been saying. you never listen-“

wilbur cuts you off, “i listen, i promise. okay? i listen to you, now, listen to me for a second, okay baby?”

you ponder for a moment before giving in, “fine.”

“i’ll let you come back, under a few conditions,” you wait a moment, giving him time to list his conditions but he doesn’t seem to budge on his own.

“and what are those?” you fold your arms over your chest, huffing as you imagine wilbur pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing at you.

“i’ll tell you when you get here, okay?” he pauses, sand surprisingly you can hear the hesitation almost as if he were there with you and not just speaking through your mind, “there’s a tree-“

“a tree? wow, so fancy,” your annoyance bubbling up at the way he wasn’t being direct.

he warns you again, a whispering of your name to keep you in line before he continues, “there’s a tree a few minutes in front of you, there will be lilliums around the base and a circle door in the middle. it’ll take you here, no need to do what you normally do, okay? please just, don’t do something stupid and get up here, okay?”

you take a moment before answering, wondering if you want to believe him or ignore him at the moment, “okay, fine.”

you wait a few minutes, making sure he doesn’t have anything more to say before standing up and beginning the walk over to the tree. it feels stupid, how hopeful you are and how confident you feel over walking to a damn tree as if it’ll fix your biggest qualm with the way your god’s world works. you stop short, maybe a good eight feet from the base of the tree, your eyes dancing around and staring at the lilly flowers lining the base and spreading over the roots. you play with the idea of turning around and walking back, abandoning him and any loyalty you had to him. but then you look back at the trunk before you and sigh, giving in and stepping back towards it. your fingers reach out to grasp the hook on the corner, pulling it back and crawling in, not without doubts of course but you aren’t sure what you have to lose.

you pull the door back to close it and turn around, darkness encompassing your whole being as you feel a sort of light feeling take over your senses. are you dreaming? it doesn’t feel like a dream, but it seems like one. are you real? is this real?

your thoughts shut off, cut like a guillotine, but the blade being the darkness and silence. you no longer felt anything but a void, and then you began to feel warm fabric, and then a whiff of cologne hit your nose and then you were finally able to open your eyes.

“i see you’re awake?” you peek up, rubbing your eyes as you take in your surroundings, eyes catching on the familiar figure of wilbur, sitting in a reading chair in the corner of his bedroom. you’ve been here before, you’ve slept in this bed but now it feels different. it’s a good different, but it isn’t the same.

“i am now,” you pause, tossing the covers over and off your legs as you sit up against the ornate headboard, gazing over at him as he meets your eyes and sets down his journal, “what happened?”

“i convinced myself that i could manage switching your role to immortal,” he sighs, moving his gaze to the floor as he chews his lip, mind reeling as he lists off all the rules he broke just to bring his love into his life.

“mm, was it paperwork that kept you from it?” you chuckle, much too happy at the moment to even think of how angry you were and still are at him.

“no,” he chuckles dryly, shaking his head, “it was.. more serious than that but that’s no talk for now. how are you feeling, love?” he stands from his chair, finding a spot on the edge of the bed by your feet and resting his hands on your legs.

“i couldn’t be more tired, what the hell happened? how did i get here?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes as you take note of the pulsing ache at your temples.

“i guided you through a dream, to get here, and once you reached this world, i switched some things around in your file,” he squeezes your calf, his eyes staring at the wall for a good minute before meeting your gaze.

“so that means…?”

“you’re immortal and no longer have any ties with your old world, you’re mine now, just the way you wanted,” he sighs, lifting your legs to lay over his lap as he reaches over and kisses your forehead. there’s a sort of calmness about him that you’ve yet to see until now. you never knew such peace could exist in him.

“i’ll answer any question you have.” you nod to him, acknowledging his offer but not knowing where to start,

you have too many questions to even verbalize, or let alone ask, and the growing headache isn’t helping either. so after a moment’s contemplation, you decide to let the piles questions take a rest while you enjoy your wilbur’s company.

you lean forward and kiss his cheek once, and you watch as a gentle rosiness floods the pale skin that he adorns and his lips curl up in a smile.

“how about we have a day to ourselves and celebrate?” you suggest, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers, chewing on your lip as you keep your eyes down.

“okay, as long as you promise to ask questions later?” he tilts your head up by your chin, a loving care in his eyes.

“promise,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose before continuing and jumping off the bed, “now show me that pretty garden you have, yeah?”

he smiles, standing up and meeting you where you stand. he leans down, hands resting on your cheeks with giggles escaping his lips at your excitement, “may i kiss you first?”

“yes, sir you may,” your fingers wrap around his waist as he brings his lips to yours, smiling softly as your mouths move in sync. a moments pass before you both need air and you pull back, moving to tug on his hand, “now come on! show me the lilliums!”

he leads you out to the garden, smiling the whole way as he can’t help but to think how grateful he is that he broke a few rules and let heaven be you.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

[slxtmeri]

i need clay to fuck me and breed me until i cant remember anything but his name.

GUYS HELP ME

[lvyu]

cookie cutter perfect; wilbur soot x reader

— synopsis: truthfully, wilbur wasn’t a fan of holidays before, but now he’s found a tradition he’d love to repeat next year.

“don’t touch those!”

if someone had told wilbur that he would be fighting you over some halloween cookie decorations, he wouldn’t have believed them. he’s never exactly been the person to get worked up over holidays, and especially not the big ones like christmas or halloween.

sure he enjoyed them when he was young, but then he grew up, and the ‘too-old’ mindset consumed him for the entirety of his teenage years. then of course, he actually got too old for things like trick-or-treating. despite countless other activities awaiting him, he chose to avoid the celebration as a whole— a fact that you very much hated.

and it was true that you weren’t exactly one for celebrations either, but something about seeing someone more devoid of holiday cheer than you made you perk up with the excitement of a six year old getting some candy as a treat.

when you had proposed the idea of celebrating halloween, wilbur was all for it, albeit not too excited, but he was happy to indulge you. plus, if it meant spending time with you, he was happy either way, even if he had to look a little silly. he expected you to suggest dressing up and giving out candy, but surprisingly, you opted for a quieter approach—

“no, no, no, no! i just decorated them!”

you stuck out your tongue and made an annoying sound. “you decorated them bad.”

—maybe quiet wasn’t the right word.

truthfully it had started out quiet. you hadn’t told him what you were planning before, claiming it was a surprise. late afternoon, you set out two bowls of candy for any kids passing through and put a sign that very politely asked for the kids to be quiet, then put on a movie and started baking some cookies. the night before, you had gone out to buy some decorations from the local market. it was a surprise that you had chosen such a relaxed sort of evening, but a welcome one nonetheless.

wilbur took the towel you were holding and threw it over his shoulder. “that’s really funny coming from the person who just splat frosting on their cookie and called it a day,” he giggled. “at least i have some class, and tried to make it looked good.”

he bent down to eye level with the cookie tray, smiling at his creation.

you piled onto him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “whatever, i’m still gonna eat yours anyways,” you said.

a few minutes passed that way, and he hummed happily, standing back up to hug you properly, letting you rest your head against his chest. he rubbed your back, continuing his teasing of how great his decorating skills were. you shot back, and annoyingly kept repeating how much you ‘totally didn’t care’.

wilbur kissed your temple, resting a hand on your head and the other on your back. “thank you, this was fun, lovely.”

“i knew you would like it! i worked so-o-o hard coming up with the idea, i’m happy!” you exaggerated a little, but he could tell the sentiment was still there.

still, he couldn’t resist. “yeah, all three of your brain cells worked hard, i’m sure.”

“fucking… i’m gonna burn your cookies.”

[lanaxoxoxoxoxox]

No no no you’re getting a FUCKING REQUEST TODAY BABY

Ok so maybe someone of your choice with a really bubbly talkative reader and someone called reader annoying and then they like- stick up for reader

Does that make sense-

Like-

Reader: *talking*

Bitch: “ur annoying”

Person of choice: “not on my watch”

yes yes yes !! im in love with this ask frog oml

angel watch

wilbur soot x loud!reader

warnings: angst?? idk but theres DEF some fluff sprinkled in here

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

reader pov

I never really thought about my actions often, but in a good way. Obviously I would know if I accidentally hurt someone, like any other average human being would do. But I never ever thought about my personality and it's own actions.

Ever since I was in first grade, my parents, friends and even teachers would describe me as someone with a "flirtatious, bubbly" personality. That never really got to me, and I found it funny. I mean, it does make sense, as I literally used "bubbly" in my Twitch username for when I stream. I do have to say, it's quite useful when streaming, as it keeps me engaged with my chat. That's what I enjoyed about myself. But I guess my chat didn't that day.

"Hello bubblies! How are we doing today my loves?" I said, smiling into the webcam.

user657: great!!

user342: meh, but ur stream is the best !! :D

userfroggie8: live laugh love y/n

message was deleted by a moderator

"Nice, nice! If your day is going pretty shit, I hope I can cheer you guys up!" I said, making a heart sign into the webcam. "Today is going to mainly just be a silly lil' rant stream. Maybe perhaps some storytimes? Maybe some clip reactions? We'll see, loves. But first, I need to remind everyone that you can subscribe to my channel for free with Twitch Prime if you have it and would like to support me."

I continued the stream with talking about random stuff that popped into my head. I was in my little streaming room, in my little shared apartment. What I didn't know is what my boyfriend was watching in the living room.

wilbur pov

Whoever said that cleaning pots and pans from the night before is a "relaxing" thing to do, needs to wake the fuck up. I mean, it's not like I'm going to make y/n do it, especially since they're going to be really tired after their stream. Especially with their cute, bubbly personality, when they get tired, they get tired. They have full on "sugar crashes".

I felt my phone vibrate from my back pocket. I placed the last pan down on the drying towel and slid my phone into my hands. I unlocked it.

"y/n_bubbles is live! "LETS CHAT!!" I smiled into the reflection of my phone. I plopped down onto the living room sofa and opened up the Twitch app, playing y/n's stream. I watched for a while, before grabbing my phone to send a message back to Tommy and catching up with my twitter page. I focused my ears back onto y/n's stream.

reader pov

"Alright, lets take a break from the rants for now. I bet y'all are tired of hearing my crazy rant voice!" I laughed to myself.

Suddenly, my donation sound popped up. "I should probably change my sound from the duck noises. That's, um, real immature from me..." I laughed again.

user10 donated $2.00

i dont watch ur streams often but can you like stop talking once in a while ur rly annoying. stop thinking you're different from other streamers and that ur "quirky". stfu. /srs

"Thanks user10 for the $2! Guys, I seriously can't read, I need to take a second to actually read the donations out loud for you guys, seriously." I inspected the donation closer. "Alright user10, what did you write... 'i don't watch ur streams often but can you like stop talking once in a while ur rly annoying-'" My heart stopped.

Don't let them notice Y/n.

Don't let them fucking notice.

I continued reading. "'stop thinking you're different from other streamers and that you're.." I paused. "that you're quirky. Shut the fuck up.' Um, I'm gonna take a little pause break guys." I said quietly, quickly turning off my webcam and switching to the "BRB" screen. I kicked my legs up to the chair and sat there for a minute, ignoring the rest of the world around me. Is that what they really thought of me..?

wilbur pov

I looked back up at the TV. I thought y/n was just talking about her random new games she enjoyed or about her friends, but instead was met with utter silence. When you hear your bubbly significant other who is the biggest extrovert stop talking, in the middle of a chatting stream, you know something's up. I looked over to the corner and saw a donation from some "user10". "i dont watch ur streams often but can you like stop talking once in a while ur rly annoying. stop thinking you're different from other streamers and that ur "quirky". stfu. /srs"

What. The. Fuck.

Not even bothering to shut the TV off or grab my phone, I ran upstairs to Y/n's streaming room and looked over at Y/n, sitting dead silent in her chair. I ran over to them and spun their chair around, accidentally hitting the keyboard and hurting my arm. "Fuck-".

Shut up Wilbur! Focus on your partner.

I spun their chair around and raised up their head. "Hey, hey, it's okay! That person is being a total dick, and what they said was utter lies." They raised their head up and looked at me in the eyes. "Don't listen to them. You're an incredible person." I stood up and looked down at them. Their legs were still bouncing. I kneeled back down again and placed my hand on their thigh to help them stop shaking.

"I love you." I said, before softly kissing them. I felt y/n stop shaking and smiled into the kiss. They turned back to their monitor and their jaw- dropped...?

"Uh, Will?" they said softly.

"Yes, love?" I replied.

"You accidentally turned the webcam back on when you hit the keyboard. The microphone was also on still. Chat's going fucking bananas." they laughed, placing their head in their hands.

user7798: FUCK USER10

user455: they're dating???? OMG

y/nstan4life: omg there so cute why cant i have that [happy-cry]

mcyt7447: Y/NBUR!!

I looked over to the chat and chuckled. "Oh shit."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[loversj0y]

hey its me glonk

so

talking about siren/clinic!wilbur.

Imagine Sire having a love/hate relationship with a low-ranking hero.

(Now I say "low-ranking", but it doesn't mean they're weak. They're just... really bad at their job. They can fight, but they're a little too brutal for the public eye. Breaking bones, etc..

So the hero committee says they are too violent to move up the ranks. Ironic, considering that they are the only hero that doesn't kill villains. The other heroes do much worse all the time-- they just keep it under wraps.)

Anyway, maybe the hero has some nullification power. Siren's voice doesn't work on them, so they end up duking it out in a good old fashioned fistfight.

Unless its the hero's lunch break. they only work when they have to.

eventually, when one gets a call about the other and an order to go deal with them, neither knows whether its going to be a snog-in-the-alleyway kind of day or a beat-each-other-to-a-pulp kind of day until they lock eyes.

fuck Enemies to lovers, this is enemies AND lovers.

lonemies. lovemies. enevers. Enemivers? Who knows.

(also. imagine the hero getting fired one day because they incapacitated someone in a rather brutal manner-- on live television. Does the Hero Committee care that it allows its other heroes to do far worse, just out of the public eye? No! Boom, they are fired)

you bet that siren goes asking them ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶p̶h̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶n̶u̶m̶b̶e̶r̶ to join the syndicate.

glonk. you get me. oh my god.

okay i kind of went crazy down below but i love this concept SO much

enemies AND lovers is SOOO powerful. i feel like siren would have a complex about anyone who cant be affected by his power naturally bc on one hand, it pisses him off, but on the other hand, he LOVES it because it allows him to feel secure in knowing they will never think he’s manipulated them and he’ll never have the option to (id imagine growing up, he found it hard to make connections because people who knew his power and didn’t understand it would find it hard to trust him)

i love the idea too of their very first meeting. hero reader is brand new, spiffy, ready to tackle any challenges! and who do they get? literally one of the three top ranking heros. and yeah they’re terrified but they agreed to this so they get ready to fight and siren just is not having it and simply tries to command them and reader is like *oh fuck…wait.* and they both have this mutual realization that he cant use his power and immediately in siren’s eyes. they are rivals. siren manages to get away without any fight due to the shock and processing they both have, but the hero committee quickly hears about it and is PISSED because, from the media’s view, hero reader didnt even try. which is why next time the hero just gets aggressive and physical and the hero committee ALSO gets pissed again and reader is just like ????? already so done with this shit but they’re on a contract fuck.

but oh thats when siren catches them. they’re not really paying attention to patrolling, still pissed off and reeling from the meeting with the hero committee, so it isnt hard for siren to come up behind them and get them pinned down. and he’s all cocky and talking shit, and reader is too tired to actually fight him or be angry, so siren is like. something is wrong here, i want a reaction. so he switches to flirting. and oh boy does that do the trick. and reader is so tired theyre just like. fuck the hero committee. fuck everything. im going to have fun. and they end up making out in the dark alleyway until siren gets called away by the syndicate.

and the song and dance continues, either fighting or making out (though siren does note that the fighting tends to happen more when the media is involved) hero learns more abt the syndicate and is like honestly i cant even hate them bc the hero committee IS bullshit and the committee is up their ass about needing to be better, constantly needing to be better and fight more and help more people, and they let out some stress with thanatos, but it’s more of a “beat each other up until we’re exhausted and can relax” type of fight until hero accidentally knocks him completely cold because his head hit a brick wall. and they look up and the camera definitely caught that. a text about being fired comes quickly, but honestly they dont even care, they’re more just worried that this person is okay, and so they grab his ear piece and tell nemesis what happened and nemesis is like “okay, im going to trust you only because you just got fired. here’s the cafe’s address, ill tell our healer and have someone meet you there” and so hero brings him to the cafe for tommy to heal, and siren is there because of course he’d be there, but it’s for two main reasons: making sure the hero keeps this place a secret, and extending the offer to potentially become a villain (which he notes that they’d need to have a chat about it over dinner specifically, and it definitely is not an excuse to go on a date)

[soot-slvt]

What if…. Just reader and will on a soft… like…. At home date thing….

(Literally I'm shrieking this is so cute- asskkfkamsmjkk I JUST WANNA BE HELD BY HIM SO BAD-)

CW: None, save for some cuddling and light angst if you squint. This was not beta read-

“Moonlight || Wilbur × Reader”

The ever familiar crisp scent of one of those shitty candles ordered from Amazon, much like everything else in this flat.

A night in- it's jarring how frequent nights like these are; that mostly stemmed from Wilbur's social anxiety and innate dislike for getting recognized in public… I'm lying, he didn't really dislike it; it just frequently reminded him that, as a content creator, he didn't truly have a private life. He preferred to keep his life as private as it could be. The lingering smell of burnt pasta still lingered over the signature, cheap scent of Seabreeze... A product of him attempting to cook for you, which ended in dumb smiles and banter that had his cheeks growing hot.

At some point in the night, he'd gone quieter than usual, a lingering afterthought about how he should be taking you out, spoiling you- instead of always staying in, opting for movie nights with slightly charred popcorn.

“I'm sorry we don't get out much…” Wilbur's tone was light and apologetic, rumbling your cranium where you rested your head against his bony chest. Despite him being a bag of bones, he was always warm; like a furnace.

“Nah, it's fine” You murmured in response, drawing circles in the beige knit of his sweater- looking up at him through eyelashes. God, he was so effortlessly pretty- the artificial light of his Amazon standing lamp did him fucking wonders. Pale cheeks highlighted in dim hues, it was hard to miss the faint blush dusting his soft face. The way his mess of curls fell over his forehead.

Sometimes he still looked like he was twenty-two, despite him being almost thirty.

It really took him a moment to process that you were fine with staying in, having a cozy date- He almost forgot your somewhat anxious tendencies. God, he felt so selfish for it.

“Oh…” He opted for that comfortable silence to settle between you both. His fingertips idly drew circles across your shoulder blade. He was thinking. “Well… um…” His russet eyes almost searched the room for something to say, anything.

“Take your time.” You teased him. Wilbur's face turned a few shades redder than before, his fingertips prodded the divot in your waist, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin.

“Oh hush-!” He found himself scolding. He was never good with his words in real, genuine situations. Hence why he was so hesitant in commitments. “I just thought you'd be more interested in lavish restaurants or strolls on the beach…”

“Those things are nice…” You mumbled, pressing your face into the scratchy fabric- why did his favorite sweater have to be so pokey on the outside?

“...But just being close to you is nicer.” Your voice was muffled by his beige jumper.

The room was darker, an indication that his tv had gone into sleep mode from lack of use; which made sense, you were too busy paying attention to each other. His fingertips tapped the ghost of a guitar melody against your spine, even in leisure he's still working. Strange how his brain works, sometimes you'd just wish you could really get a good look at what goes on up there.

He had a brilliant mind.

The thought caused a stupid smile to stretch across your face- hiding it once again in that sweater. This had him stiffening up like a board, his languid motions ceased as he kept his soft gaze on your frame- his voice was even softer.

“Now what are you grinning about?” He murmured, always soft- always gentle. You answered, no matter how tacky it was, a simple response-

“How glad I am that I have someone like you.”

My first fic on here- and ugh it's- IT'S SOMETHING. (Bare with me. I'm so rusty ugh)

[froggothebozo]

Sooooo anyone gonna write about reader finding out Taunt by Lovejoy is about Wilbur's ex and reader confronts him about it??? No? Pls someone 😢

[milorealcat]

wilbur soot as your boyfriend ♡

pairing: wilbur x gn!reader

summary: wilbur loves you a whole lot:)

length: relatively short (362 words)

-> constantly sending you cute photos when you‘re not with him, especially on tour. most random shit ever like it could legit be a cool looking rock

-> hand holding 24/7 😭

-> obsessed with making you homemade stuff for valentines and anniversaries, he saw paper roses made out of book pages on pinterest and went down a rabbit hole from there

-> he‘d heavily lean into the idea of promise rings

-> physical touch & acts of service!!! i will die on this hill

-> would match outfits with you on accident… totally

-> absolutely infatuated with you; literally can’t stop staring at you, even when you call him out on it

-> if you even glance at something in a shop, he‘ll whip out his wallet immediately

-> he‘s a big spoon imo but he doesn’t really care as long as he gets to cuddle with you, he would die a happy man snuggled up next to you

-> internally squeals whenever he sees your username pop up in chat. his voice softens a little and he tries to act cooler (it fails)

-> is still so nervous around your family enough though they all love him to bits and basically consider him your husband already

-> speaking of chat, they get a lovely half an hour long explanation of something funny you did just about every stream

-> always puts his hand on your lower back to lead you through places, regardless of if you’re built like a tank or not

-> play a demo versions of all of his songs to you, your opinion means the world to him

-> LOVESSS getting face kisses, makes him go all red and flustered which is a bonus

-> would be the kinda person to talk during a movie, fucking analysing it as it plays

• "oh my GOD!!!! her GIRLFRIEND just drowned!!!"

• "wil… you know i‘m watching the movie too right?"

-> calls you ”darling“, ”sweetheart“ and ”love“ mostly, with an occasional ”baby“ slipped in there

-> will rant about you for hours unapologetically

-> has a framed picture of you two on his desk, as a form of emotional support

first actual piece of writing posted on here 😭😭😭 praying

[mysticalsoot]

godburs favorite holiday is Christmas. he never associates it with the christian faith, or anything of the like. if anything, he just sees it as a reason to spoil his partner and heal the broken bits that you keep hidden inside.

snow days in his garden (dude, he can control the weather in his realm, it's so fun), cookie baking days, board game nights, Christmas movies, nighttime cuddles, Christmas decorating and various other activities. (add him reading you books/stories while you fall asleep on his chest<3)

his favorite part is when he gets to watch your excited face on Christmas morning while you gift him all the things you've collected, and then when you open yours from him (that's actually his favorite, favorite part. who'd turn down that?)

all in all, godbur is a Christmas girlie<33

[renranram]

Is there any chance you could make a jschlatt x streamer reader 1shot where she admits she has a small thing for jschlatt on her stream because her viewers asked if she had a crush on any streamers she watches and jschlatt happens to be watching her stream because hes a fan of her🤭 i think its such a nice fic concept :))

Crush

sfw

fem!reader x schlatt

basically the submission hehe

" chat, i am not smashing tommyinit, he's a child! " you roll your eyes as drag the photo of tommy at the 'pass' side

you've been playing smash or pass with your twitch chat for a few minutes now, ' but he's 20 now ' ' he's a grown man ' ' he's a grown man with a husband and a girlfriend ' your chat spams

" well... during my time, he was a child, " you reply, dramatically rolling your eyes as you lean back your seat, talking about your dsmp phase

" but in all seriousness, id still pass him, he's literally like my little brother chat, dont be weird " you chuckle as you scroll to the next option, wilbur fucking soot, you pause, staring dead into the camera

before dragging the thing's photo out of the frame, you let the silence sink in as you glance at your twitch chat

poggerina; o7

y/n4lyfersmwa; mb guys he got out of his leash

bhielatkiffy; WHY IS THE BRIGHTON BITER THERE 😦😦😦😦

you read as you chuckle, " ... anyways.. " you added, scrolling down as a tts donation caught your attention,

y/nsfavkitten donated $15, ' hello y/nn, just wondering if you had any small crush on an old dsmp member? ' the tts reads out

as you shift on your seat, " a small crush? " you repeat, before chuckling, " well.. if you donate another 100 ill tell you " you play it off as a joke

and continue on with the game, you put charlie in smash, ted in smash, jack in pass ( banter ), niki in smash, until the donator actually donated a $100, taking you in surprise

" oh my fucking god, y/nsfavkitten, i was just joking " you chuckle, " should i give you a refund? " you offer, not thinking it'd be serious

y/nsfavkitten: nononono but can you answer my last question? :3

you pause sighing out, before nodding, " for you y/nsfavkitten, fine, i did have a small crush, like a veryyy small crush on someone there " you confess as you can see your chat speeds up

akh1rah_1r: WHO

y/nluvsme: WHO???

jojosiwayouscareme: HELP WHO??

numberoneschlaggot: no way dont tell me you liked dream

" ewww " you squirm, chuckling as you shake your head, " ... i used to have a thing for schlatt " you confess

mitskimybeloved: AHH I CALLED IT

immacomebacklikeaboomerang: ship

renranram : Y/N X SCHLATT CANON FR

you groan out, as you chuckle, " guys dont make it weird " you mumble, a faint blush on your cheek as you shifted on your seat

meanwhile schlatt on the other hand wanted to do backflips, like genuinely, he was like a monkey getting excited over a piece banana

and he thought, why not shoot his shot,

@.jschlatt • 1 minute

same i ship it too, @.y/n'swebbie

↳ 11 ⇆ 9 ♡ 201

as you saw the tweet, your face turned redder like a tomato, chuckling like a teenage girl seeing abs for the first time

" chat, this is all your fault "

[lvyu]

(( @vktoraa OKAY OKAY I GOT CARRIED AWAY !! ))

once upon a time; wilbur soot x reader

— notes: reader’s gn! as in the fic, also this is just an imagined continuation, the actual ending was left ambiguous on purpose so you could decide what you wanted to happen :)

— warnings: same warnings as in the original fic + talk of major character death/suicide in second half, wilbur is not a good person

original fic -> tomorrow i’ll wake up and be the perfect man for you

“did they visit him in prison? did he ever get out?”

i like to imagine they did, but no, he never escaped his prison.

wilbur admitted to everything when be was brought in for questioning. before the questioning cops could even get his full name out, he whispered “i did it.” a beat.

they continued. “william pa—”

“i did it!” he spoke louder this time, his voice cracking, as if reflecting his own state of being. breaking— or maybe he was already broken. “why won’t you just lock me up?” he got quiet again, sounding sadder with every syllable.

and after a few agonising hours of questioning for wilbur like what his childhood was like, if he felt any remorse, why he chose the victims, so many fucking questions, he had to dig his nails into his arms to physically restrain himself from lashing out at them, they did. 

the trial and sentencing was quick, considering he pleaded guilty to twenty murders, which was actually six more than he was accused of. apparently on his vacation to america in autumn of 2017 he’d taken his first life. the other five had taken place in some other towns, hence the lack of connection.

.

.

“how is… how’s your job?” wilbur voice as pathetic as ever, fake smile plastered on as it always was.

you hesitated answering. despite coming here of your own volition, it had taken two years just to convince yourself to come, and you weren’t sure that was even enough. maybe you shouldn’t have come.

your silence upset him. “you know i miss you.”

“i don’t,” you were lying straight through your teeth, and you couldn’t hate yourself more for it. for fucks sake, he was a murderer.

he pouted, and you wanted to yell at him. two years trapped in a box hadn’t fared him too bad, at least so far. his hair was longer, and he looked paler, with more wrinkles, but he still had that same, tired, empty look in his eyes that he always had.

he looked sad, almost, and it only made you angrier at yourself. it gave you the same feeling from a night two years ago, the night he confessed to you. when he was standing, being held by two officers, handcuffs locking around his wrists, tears and snot running down his face. the feeling of wanting to help him, save him, just reach out to him.

he pressed a finger against the plastic seperating the two of you, staring at it intently. slowly, he brought the phone closer to his mouth. “i know you miss me,” he said, pausing before looking at you, right in your eyes, making sure you saw him. “i love you, you love me.”

his words were laced with desperation, the belief that someone loved him, him of all people, was the only thing keeping him from completely tipping over the edge. and it was; wilbur was pleading, silently, for you to say it, to say that you loved him.

“you’re a monster, wilbur,” you said. “i couldn’t love you.”

he gently set down the phone, hands coming up to cover his face. you heard him groan, a moment of silence passed, and he picked up the phone again, uncovering his face. the feeling came back.

a shaky laugh left him. “god, you fucking suck! you’re such a dick,” the intercom buzzed, warning the inmates they only had three minutes left. had it already been that long?

“i know you fucking loved me,” he never raised his voice, no, but he was getting angrier by the second, opting for a quieter tone. he was always the quiet type, rarely yelling. before, you found it endearing, but now, it only made you fear him, made you uneasy.

you would have preferred him to yell at you.

he was clenching his fist, begging for it be real, for you say you were lying. he swore he would forgive you, he would do anything, if you would just give him a bit of relief. 

“you…” he choked on his own words. “fuck! you wouldn’t have done what you did if you didn’t love me,” all the late night cuddles, occasional drunk flirting, moving schedules around just to meet him. “you did.” his voice broke, matching the heartbroken look he wore.

but was it real? was anything he did or said real?

“you did love me,” he sounded like he was on the verge of crying. “you did love me, i know you did.”

one minute.

“i love you.”

how much of what he said was true and how much of it was nothing but shallow lies?— lies he only told to get himself out of trouble and gain sympathy.

finally, you spoke. “wilbur, you don’t even know what love is.”

visitation time is over, inmates return to cells.

no, no, no, he mumbled, starting to yell, no! no! no!

he had to be physically pulled away, causing a few of the other inmates to yell at him, cursing him out and insulting him. a few looked backed at you, wondering what the commotion was all about. he tried to fight against the guards, but god, he was weak.

prison hadn’t made him any stronger, but weaker.

tears began to flow down his face, screaming ‘no’, slipping down against the guards and onto the floor, kicking his feet as though he were a toddler having a tantrum.

“please!” he yelled, and through his long fringe he looked directly at you, red face and snot smeared across.

before he could get another word out, you left, running out of the room as fast as you could. signing out and walking to your car was a blur, all you could think of was him— wilbur.

please don’t go, please don’t leave me again, please love me, please stop lying.

you slammed the car door closed, scaring yourself. you put your hand on the wheel, laying your head against it, sobs wracking your entire body.

you liked him, you liked him so fucking much before it all went to shit. you could’ve fallen in love with him so easily, you swore, if you had just been given the chance, if he had been a better person.

if he wasn’t a fucking monster maybe you could’ve been happy.

instead, you’re left with the image from so long ago. your neighbor and his kind smile as he held you, stroking your hair softly, as if you would break if he was any harsher, cracking a dry joke that you still laughed at because you liked him— because you wanted to be happy with him.

so maybe it wasn’t a lie, maybe once upon a time you did love him. but god, you wished you didn’t, you wished you could forget.

.

.

“…did he get out?”

no, he didn’t.

life imprisonment was his sentence, though granted, he was told he had a chance of parole. in my head i envisioned witting him with the ideals of someone who has almost nothing left to live for— but once that something is gone, he is too.

essentially his last straw would be accepting that he is unloved because he is a horrible person, because of the things he’s done and he can’t undo. and once that realisation hits, he can’t stay alive, he can’t accept that he is worthy of living anymore.

and so he doesn’t.

he considers writing a letter to you, and he almost does. he picked up the paper and pencil he was graciously given because of his good behavior, but he sets it down after the first sentence. he stared at your written name on the paper.

so pretty, he thinks, but it looked so wrong in his handwriting, and sounded even worse when he said it aloud because he didn’t deserve to say it. not after causing you so much pain.

he’s seen you on the news a few times, and he thinks you look happy, at least you still have your job. you deserve that happiness, he thinks, you deserve all the happiness in the world. and so he wants you to be happy, he doesn’t want to tie you down to him with his farewell letter, not again.

it’s his first, and final, sincere apology to you.

and he thinks back to your final words to him, how he didn’t even know what love was. and now he thinks maybe you were right, but he doesn’t care, not really. to him, in his mind, in his own demented, sickening, way, he knows he felt something for you, and that’s what mattered to him. it made him feel human.

though maybe not enough.

[deadqueerboys]

Kiss me, you know they'll love it!

Headcanons: Kissing them on stream.

Pairing: Wilbur x Reader, Tubbo x M! Reader, Quackity x Reader. (Separate).

Wilbur Soot:

First of all, he knew what he was doing. It was just a normal minecraft stream. This got him kinda bothered after a while. And he knew what he had to do to take this bother out of him.

Wilbur says to chat: "Holy.. oh, fuck.. i'm going to the bathroom guys, i'll be right back." He pretends he mutes and turns off the camera, we know he's a good actor.

He calls you, and since the moment you enter the room, he stairs at you with puppy eyes. You ask him why he is looking at you like that, Wilbur just smiles and places his hands on your waist, pulling you closer.

"Will.. aren't they seeing it?"

Wilbur simply doesn't care. He didn't node or deny it. He just got up and put his hands on your cheeks, kissing you passionately.

Chat goes crazy! A lot of people freaking out, they didn't even know he was dating someone.

After he does it, he also pretends to turn the camera and mic on so he can see everybody going crazy again.

"I'm back chat.. did I lose something?" He asked with a smirk.

Tubbo:

It's a late night stream, not a qsmp one, just a normal and chaotic as usual. Tubbo is doing something on his laptop. It's been a while since he's all quiet. Worried, you knocked on the door, calling him;

"Hi babe, what u doing?"

He explains to you something that doesn't matter how much he says, you'll never understand. When he looks at you, his eyes shine, making a dumb but cute smile.

"What? Don't look at me like that dickhead.." You ask, in seconds, he's stood up, hugging you, making you stay closer to him before he kept giving you kisses.

It's so lovely!!!!!

"Stop being mean with me. You're literally my boyfriend!" He giggles and finally kisses you on the lips, a very calm kiss for his natural exited way of being.

"So.. is this camera on?" "Oh.. shit."

He doesn't really care. If you're weak or shorter than him, he gonna take you on his lap, he kept giving you kisses until he get tired, which never happens, or until some giftsub appear on the stream he notices that or he turn the stream off or he let you go.

Now that people know you guys are dating, he'll make sure to bring you sometimes to make a stream with him, always being clingy.

If somebody on the chat flirts with you, he'll be pissed off, not just pissed off, but.. wow. He started to complain about it all the time. Even out of live, he's not the jealous type, but God, he's offended!

Quackity:

He doesn't care.

"Oh, but they'll see us and.." Stfu. He. Doesn't. Care.

Quackity puts you on his lap while streaming, giving you a tight hug.

Small kisses around your cheeks and neck.

Arms are always around you.

He does the possible for talking in your language, so if it is English that cracked fucked up voice comes out, whispering nasty things on your ear.

And, as you guys know, some even more nasty things for you if you speak spanish or portuguese.

I can imagine a pretty "Ah, é? Você sentiu falta de mim hoje..? Eu tenho certeza que posso fazer você se sentir melhor.." In portuguese while he bites the your ear, slowly and teasy.

Or a simple "Mhm, te ves tan bien usando esa ropa, apuesto a que te gustaría verme besarte a través de ella." Coming from him with an innocent smile.

And again, "What if they hear it?" He. Doesn't. Care.

He cares only about you and you feeling good receiving cuddles from him.

Normally, the chat is accustomed to it, just saying things like;

"Come on, man!!!"

"Please, Quackity, can we keep going with the stream?"

"Oh, well, we're losing him.."

He smiles and gives you a big kiss before letting you go. He stayed in a good mood for the rest of the night.

[average-vibe]

SBI reacting to u sleeping on them :)

summary: it’s in the title lol

pairings: techno x reader (platonic or romantic) philza x reader (platonic) wilbur x reader(meant to be romantic but platonic too), and tommy x reader (romantic or platonic)

warnings: swearing

a/n: sup.

masterlist

PHILZA MINECRAFT

You and phil were chilling on the couch, your head gently rested on his shoulders, watching TV.

“see, i don’t know why he didn’t-“ phil said, before the sound of your snoring filled his ears. “er, mate?” he said, lightly tapping your head, to no response. phil turned the TV down, and tried to make you more comfy without awaking you. when one of his noisy sons would come in, he would tell them to, and i quote, “shut the fuck up, are you fucking blind?” in a whisper yell. when you woke up, he chuckled, and asked, “are you done?”, and proceeded to cackle at your horrified face

extra things:

WOULD NOT GET UP. EVER. HUNGRY? GOTTA WAIT, YNS ASLEEP.

knows how to handle it bc he has 3 sons and 3 more adopted kids, including you.

would tell wilbur to “stop playing your fucking guitar, someone’s trying to get their beauty sleep.”

TECHNOBLADE (fly high)

you laid on top of techno, arms draped around his sides, like this

you were really tired that day, and really wanted some rest. everyone else was out at wilbur’s gig, and techno was your best option.

“eH?” was all techno said when you asked if you could cuddle with him. “why would i do that?” was the next thing

eventually, you bribed him by letting him read you greek mythology, and after some begging, he finally gave in and, will rolled eyes, let you climb onto him.

you listened to him ramble on about how cool some of the gods were, his voice putting your brain to rest. as he rambled, he noticed your breathing getting quieter, and you stopped moving.

“hey? yn?” he whispered, before finally realizing you were sound asleep.

both mortified and in appreciation of you, he quietly sat there, letting you rest. every once in a while he’s tap on you, to see if you had woken up yet, but your still body didn’t budge.

when the boys got home, their ruckus woke you up. and techno was fully prepared to fight them.

EXTRA STUFF

if you started showing that you were cold, he would put his cloak on you without second thought.

when you’ve okie up, he just smirked and said, “welcome.”

WILBUR

you came into his room after school, tired and worn out of the day.

“hey.” wil said, strumming his guitar, smiling.

“hey. can i sleep in here? i wanna be in a quiet room” you said.

“yeah, cmon.” he said, setting his guitar down on the ground and laying down, patting himself like a chair.

“on you?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“of course.” wil said, smiling. you laid down on him, quickly feeling comfortable and at home.

eventually, you both fell asleep, just like this:

EXTRA STUFF:

every once in a while, he would wipe some hair out of your face and hold your cheek.

forehead kisses. obviously.

TOMMYINNIT

when you first walked into his room asking to sleep, he looked horrified

“i beg your fucking pardon?” he asked, as you giggled your head off.

“alright fine.” he eventually muttered, opening his lanky arms to let you come into his arms

you climbed into his arms, and you couldn’t ignore the look of adoration he gave you.

you fell asleep in his arms, like this:

EXTRA STUFF

when wilbur found you two, tommy immediately whisper screamed at him to fuck off

he stared at you for the entire time, just admiring you :)

[lcvejoy]

and we hold onto this (for whatever reason)

wilbur soot x gn!reader

tw!: angst, breakups, food mention, crying, other than that it’s fluffy and sweet. not proofread

word count: 1,248

a/n: literally wrote this in 10 minutes and didn’t read it over so i’m sorry if it makes literally 0 sense lmaoooo. i hope y’all like it!! (also this picture of wil is so cute hes so-)

there’s a stale feeling in the air as you’re surrounded by your friends. a large table, a potluck dinner, laughter and 5 different conversations, all while brown eyes with your same sadness across and to the left of you attempts to impossibly avoid your gaze.

wilbur joins in one of the conversations, you can hear his laughter and smooth voice. it’s all that seems to reach your ears as you play with the food on your plate. you missed the sound of his carefree and light voice, his laugh sweeter than nectar. a pang of sadness hits your chest like a tidal wave. a feeling you’ve invited to the dinner table often these past few weeks, but having him here in front of you, hearing his voice and laugh in the room and not in your head, has made the sadness hurt even more. it hits your chest, knocks the wind out of you, makes you feel like you’ve been thrown backwards.

“y/n? did you hear me?” a voice comes from your right, causing you to flinch and drop the fork in your hand. the sound is loud, it makes you physically cringe as you hear the conversations die down and feel multiple eyes on you. you lean down to grab the fork,

“no, sorry. what were you saying?” you respond quietly, looking over at your friend and placing the fork down beside your plate.

“i asked if you were okay. you seem like you’re in space” they say, voice quiet and full of compassion. you nod, forcing a smile on your face. how weird is it to be seen, studied, known. your friends see through you. you wonder if wilbur does too.

“yeah” you whisper, “i’m okay. sorry. didn’t get much sleep last night” you let out a light laugh. they smile back at you, a half-crooked, sad smile. a hand reaches up to squeeze your shoulder - as if to say ‘i know you’re lying, but we don’t have to talk about it’, before they turn back around to continue their conversation. you finally look around as conversations have sparked back to life, scanning the table before reaching wilbur’s spot. he’s looking at you. his mouth slightly agape, his eyes sad. you hold his gaze for a beat, before grabbing your fork and standing.

“m’gonna go wash this” you mumble for no one in particular to hear, as you scurry to the kitchen. you sigh as you reach the room, running your hands through your hair and leaning down onto the counter. the wound of yours and wilbur’s breakup is still so fresh, still so new, still prone to infection. seeing him is harder than expected, but this get together had been planned for too long for either of you to cancel.

with another sigh, you grab your fork and turn on the tap, beginning to wash it. your mind wanders as you grab the dish soap and sponge - you planned a future with wilbur. you thought he was the one. your parents loved him. god, you loved him. you wanted all the stupid, gross, lovey-dovey shit with him. a big wedding, a small family, a white house with a fenced in backyard, cats and dogs, growing old together. you would’ve done it all with wilbur.

“i think it’s clean” a familiar voice cuts through your thoughts. you flinch, dropping the fork into the sink. your head whips over to the voice, seeing wilbur standing there, looking at you. you hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks until he brought you back to reality, causing you to quickly wipe them with your sleeve. you sniff, “well, yaknow, just had to be sure” you chuckle, though it comes out sad and strained.

there’s a silence, the air feels heavy, as you both just look at one another.

“y/n…” wilbur starts. you shake your head. “don’t. it’s okay” you reassure, breaking your gaze from him to look down at the fork in the sink. you grab it, walking over to the dish towels hung over the oven handle.

“i’m sorry” wilbur whispers.

“i said dont, wilbur” you sigh, looking back up to him. he looks just as broken and disheveled as you do.

he nods his head. a silence washes over the room.

“i miss you” his voice cracks, his eyes gather tears but he quickly wipes them away.

“wil-“

“i know we agreed it was best to part ways but it’s killing me, y/n” wilbur cuts you off, his voice is quiet but filled with emotion. you stay quiet, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you take shaky breaths.

“i-its so hard. so fucking hard to pretend im okay with this. that im fine. t-that i really believe it’s for the best” wilbur chokes out, he gulps before continuing, “because i don’t. i don’t think it is.”

you close your eyes to avoid the tears forming. you shake your head.

“wil, please stop” you beg “we both have other things to focus on. i mean, you have the band and-“

“oh, fuck the band!” wilbur shouts. your eyes shoot open to look at him as he brings his fingers up to pinch his nose bridge. he looks at you “fuck the band. fuck streaming. fuck everything, y/n. if it means i lose you, i don’t want any of it.” wilbur’s voice calms, it’s quieter.

you sigh and shake your head, “i would never ask that of you. you know that” you whisper “you love that band. and you love touring. and you love making music. and i love watching you do it, wil, i love seeing you happy but i-“ your voice breaks as a tear falls down your cheek, “but i cant sit there and wait for you to make time for me anymore. you were busy and you were happy and i waited and it’s fine but i- i couldn’t wait anymore. a-and all your promises, all the missed dates, all the times i spent sleeping alone, i just- it was too hard.”

wilbur takes a step towards you, searching your face for a reaction. when you don’t react, he walks over to you, standing in front of you. hesitantly, he reaches his hands to cup your face, wiping your tears with his thumb as his own tears fall from his eyes. he leans down and rests his forward against yours. a shaky sigh escapes your lips as you breathe in his scent.

“then i’ll wait for you this time” he whispers, “whenever you’re ready for me, i’ll be here. ready to change, to do whatever it takes, to show you the love you deserve.”

a wet laugh escapes your lips as you sniff, reaching up to hold his forearms as you close your eyes.

“i love you, y/n” he whispers, “i don’t think i’m capable of not loving you.”

you nod. “me neither” you agree.

his forehead leaves yours, being replaced by his lips. a lingering kiss on your forehead. he steps back, grabbing hold of your hands as you both look into each others teary eyes.

“whenever you’re ready” wilbur whispers. you nod - “okay” you whisper back. he smiles, as do you, before he walks out of the room.

you look down at the fork on the counter. a forgotten task. you smile, leaning over to pick it up. inspecting it in your hands. a breath, a sniff, a final wipe of your eyes.

whenever i’m ready, you think.

[wilbursprincess]

Okay so one, love your writing literally sm

Two, imagine being best friends with simpbur and heading to his place after a shitty date and he’s all like “hey, hey, it’s okay.. I can take care of you”

And yk.. it can lead to whatever!

- 💤 anon(?)

“I Can Take Care Of You”

Simpbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Really soft fluffy sex, Soft/ServiceDom!Simpbur

Thank you so much, new 💤anon! I’m a sucker for the ‘best friend helps you after a bad date/breakup’ trope, so thank you for fulfilling my little writer heart <3

Fic below cut!

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur says, frantically running up to me. “What happened?”

I sigh, rubbing my hands over my bare arms from the night chill. “That’s the last time I accept a ride from a guy I’m going on a first date with.”

“Who am I beating up?” He asks, brows knitting in concern as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders. “Did he do anything?”

Shaking my head, I let Wilbur lead me to his car, letting a sigh of relief as he buckles me into the front seat and I hear the front doors lock. “Tried to get me to go home with him, and doesn’t like being told no. Got out before he tried anything, but yikes.”

He cranks the heat, a wave of warmth washing over me as I snuggle into his jacket. “That bastard,” he sighs. “Thank you for calling me.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” I murmur affectionately, resting my head on Wilbur’s shoulder and breathing in his comforting scent, the same cologne and shampoo he’s used since I’ve known him. “Did I interrupt your evening?”

Snorting, Wilbur puts a loose arm around my shoulders. “Oh, definitely. A very exciting evening of shitty TV movies and frozen pizza. Care to join me, now that your plans have, uh, changed?”

“Absolutely,” I nod. “Mind lending me some of your clothes when we get to yours?”

“No problem,” he replies, backing out of the parking spot. “Might even dig some ice cream out of the freezer, too.”

“His number is blocked?” Wilbur asks as we head up the staircase to his apartment.

“Blocked it while planning my escape,” I laugh, tugging off my heels and carrying them up with me. “God, why did I wear heels on a date with a guy who’s barely 5 foot tall?”

Giggling, Wilbur unlocks his door. “He’s not worth your heels, princess.” He’s always called me princess, and recently, it had started sending heat between my thighs each time his British accent cooed it at me. “Right, let’s get you changed, and I just bought one of those veggie pizzas you like, want me to throw that in the oven?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I groan. “We didn’t even get to appetizers before I had to run, and I’m running off a vodka soda.”

He preheats the oven, yanking open the cupboard and tossing me my favorite crisps. “Go grab one of my hoodies and some sweats from my room, and I’ll get this ready for us, ok?”

Nodding, I shove a handful of crisps in my mouth on the way to his room, opening the door and sighing at the familiar sight. I’d often teased Wilbur for being a slob, his room covered in clothes and empty mugs, but right now, there was nothing more I wanted to see.

I tug off my dress, replacing it with one of his massive hoodies and an even baggier pair of sweatpants, his softest socks covering my feet. In his bathroom, I use his face wash to wash off my makeup, patting on some lotion and grabbing a stray rubber band to wrap my hair in a bun.

“There we go,” Wilbur says, smiling as I walk back in, munching on the crisps. “That’s the girl I’m more used to.”

I look down at my shapeless clothes, messy hair, and crisp crumbs stick to my lips. “What do you mean?”

“As much as you look amazing in a dress and heels, I love seeing the real you shine through. Wearing my clothes, using a rubber band as a hair tie.”

I’m not even sure how to respond to such a compliment, so I don’t. I just accept a can of soda and an outstretched arm, snuggling into his chest as he tosses a blanket over our laps. “Pizza’s in the oven, it won’t be too long,” he murmurs. “You feeling ok after your night?”

Embarrassingly, tears bubble in the corner of my eyes, and I try and sniff them back before Wilbur sees, but he wipes them away before I can turn away. “What’s with the tears?” he whispers, pulling me into his lap.

“I’m just sick of shitty dates with shitty guys,” I admit, wiping my eyes on his tshirt. “All I want is someone who knows me inside and out, loves me for who I am, and is good in bed. No, scratch that, someone who’s mediocre in bed, since apparently my standards are too high.”

Surprisingly, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. I can take care of you.”

“W-what do you mean?” I whisper, heart pounding, hoping I didn’t mishear him.

“I know you sing in the shower, how you like the burnt bits on pizza, and that you feed all the stray cats behind your apartment because you feel bad they have to sleep in the rain,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’ve held your hair back while you’re throwing up in my bathroom after getting wine-drunk, I know the brand of tampons you like, and where you hide your vibrator.”

“You know where I hide my-?”

Wilbur presses a finger onto my lips. “Shush. I’m not done. That’s two out of three of your standards I’ve knocked out of the park.”

“What about the last one?” I challenge, face in a red flush just from the thought.

“Do you want me to tell you, or show you?” He smirks, hand fluttering on my thigh.

“Show me.”

From how flirty his words had been, I was expecting his lips to crash unceremoniously into mine, but that wasn’t the case. Wilbur was soft, gentle, and sweet, running his tongue across my lower lip before sliding it into the kiss. One of his hands rubs at the nape of my neck, the other stroking the curve of my waist under the hoodie, and I absolutely melt into his touch.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he sighs, barely pulling back enough to get the words out. “Mmm.”

I giggle, nibbling on his lower lip. “I didn’t know you were such a good kisser.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Wilbur whispers in my ear, leaving a hickey just behind my ear. “You want me to show you some, baby?”

“Please,” I whine, tugging on the waistband off his sweats to try and free the growing bulge. “Show me, Wilbur.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he chides, sliding two fingers into the band of my sweatpants. “Can I take these off?”

I nod, reaching down for my hem of his hoodie as he tugs off my sweats. “How long have you wanted to do this for?”

“Longer than I’d like to admit,” he says. “But I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

I smile. “Same here.”

We both stare at each other in the dim light, him panting over my almost-naked body.

“Please let me ruin it now,” he groans, rubbing himself between my thighs.

I grind back, both of us letting out high pitched whines. “Ask me that after I see how good that dick is.”

Wilbur pulls back for a moment, tugging down the front of his pants, the leaking length springing up and hitting his lower stomach.

“Of course you have a fucking huge dick,” I groan, making him snort. “My best friend of all these years has somehow managed to hide that from me.”

He leans down, pressing his shaft onto the wet spot on my panties. “And I can assure you that it feels even better.”

I tug my panties down my legs. “That’s two things you have to prove tonight, Wilbur. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Do you want me to use a condom?” Wilbur asks, brows knitted in concern.

I shake my head. “I’m on birth control, and we all know neither of us have slept with anyone else in ages.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says softly, working me open with his fingers. “Tell me if I’m going too fast, it hurts, you’re uncomfortable, or-“

Kissing his forehead, I tilt Wilbur’s head back to look him in the eye. “Wilbur. You’re worrying.”

“How did you know I was worrying?”

“Your forehead always crinkles when you worry,” I say. “Relax. I promise. We both want this.”

He sighs. “I just want to make this perfect for you. You deserve it. You deserve the world.”

“You’re already making it perfect,” I reply, stroking my hand down his bare back. “Just be gentle, ok?”

“Anything,” he breathes. “For you.”

Wilbur pushes himself inside me gently, so gently, kissing me all over my face as I adjust to the feeling. One hand squeezes my hip, the other stroking the bare skin at my waist.

“I’m so full,” I groan out, wrapping my legs around Wilbur’s waist to tug him deeper. “Oh, God.”

He smiles, licking a stripe up my neck as we start to move together, finding a smooth, rocking rhythm.

“Mmm, we feel so good together, princess,” he praises, hooking one of my legs over his shoulders to hit me even harder. “You’re so wet.”

I’m surprised he’s touching me in all the right places, since from my past experiences, most guys aren’t exactly adept. But Wilbur was. Incredibly, in fact, not just shoving my own pleasure aside to get himself off.

Kisses turn into nibbles, nibbles turn into bites, and bites turn into Wilbur fully sinking his teeth into my lower lip, muffling the moan that threatens to spill out. His hand slides from my waist to my chin, tilting my face into our slightly sloppy kiss.

“Still ok?” He whispers, pulling back for a moment to gaze in my eyes. “I’m not hurting you?”

I shake my head, pecking him on the mouth. “Quite the opposite. You’re quite adept with that cock of yours.”

Laughing, Wilbur nibbles another hickey onto my neck. “I try my best, love.”

We stop talking for awhile after that, preferring to let our bodies do the talking.

“Oh, Wilbur, I’m close,” I cry out, knees shaking, nails digging into his back. I’m impressed how long we’ve both been lasting, but I’m not sure either of us can keep going forever. “Fuck.”

Wilbur groans, biting his lip with the effort to keep going for me. “Where… where can I cum?” He pants.

“Inside… please,” I manage to reply, almost screaming out as he reaches up and presses on my clit. I melt into the couch, tightening around him as my high slams into me, Wilbur right behind me a few seconds later, finishing deep inside me with a loud moan.

We’re both silent, panting in the aftermath, only being interrupted by the sudden beep of the oven timer.

“Pizza’s ready,” Wilbur deadpans, making me crack up. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” I sigh. “Cardio will do that to you.”

[saccharinesunsetretired]

Stress Relief | L’Manbur x Reader

This is my literal first smut ever, and it took me multiple days to work up the courage to post it lmao

Summary: You once told Wilbur that he was welcome to use you while you were asleep. After a particularly stressful day as president, he decides to take advantage.

Warnings: Somnophilia, rough sex, reader is afab but gender neutral

Word Count: 1.9k

MINORS DNI

It started when you caught him one night. You were asleep, resting your head in your and Wilbur’s new home in L’Manberg. Wilbur truly had tried his best not to wake you, keeping his moans and grunts to a minimum, but his attempts had failed. You caught him at three am, touching himself desperately, head tilted back and eyes closed.

“You know, if you ever need me at night, you can just use me,” you’d said once you were fully awake. He was mortified, at least until you kissed him and made it all better.

After that, there was an agreement between the two of you. Should Wilbur need any late-night stress relief, he was welcome to use you. Being the president of a new and growing nation was one hell of a task, after all, and Wilbur hadn’t even had time to think about sex during the war. Now, he had a bit more time on his hands and a lot of time to make up for. An interesting combination.

He got home late one night after a long and stressful day. The economic state of L’Manberg was…less than ideal, to say the least, and Wilbur had spent all day scribbling down numbers and figures and writing bill proposals. It was exhausting, and the only thing he wanted was your touch.

Unfortunately, he was too late. You were curled up in bed. Not that he could blame you; it was past midnight, and he’d been gone all day. You couldn’t wait around forever.

He remembered the agreement he had with you. He felt dirty, even thinking about doing that, but you had given him explicit consent. Maybe he could use you for this, just once.

He took off his boots and most of his clothing before perching on the edge of the bed. He gazed at you, so peaceful in sleep. He was in nothing but his boxers now, and he slowly stuck a hand down them, teasing his length with his fingers just as you would sometimes do. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine it was you touching him. He sucked in small breaths, running a thumb over the head of his cock, trying to be quiet so as not to wake you.

It didn’t take long for him to go from slightly firm to fully hard, and then he had to figure out the logistics of how he was going to do this. It was hot in the room, seeing as how it was late summer, and thus you weren’t under heavy blankets. That would make this slightly easier. The light blanket you had pulled over yourself was easy enough for Wilbur to push aside.

Your sleeping figure was oh so tempting, and Wilbur had to do his best to restrain himself. He couldn’t put his hands under your shirt, as that would be an unnecessary touch that could wake you. He focused instead on sliding your pajama pants and underwear down enough that he had access to you.

He couldn’t go in without prepping you at all either, so he very slowly and tentatively pressed two fingers against you, circling your clit. He could hear your breath hitch, and he paused, scared you would wake up. You didn’t, and he kept going. You let out a few soft moans, barely audible, which only made him harder. God, he wanted you awake, wanting you gripping his shoulders and crying out his name while he pounded into you with an intensity that would have made the devil clutch his pearls, but he couldn’t have that. Not now.

He opened the bedside table drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, squirting some out onto his hand. He put some on his fingers, which he proceeded to use to very slowly stretch you out. He was shocked that he hadn’t woken you, but was pleased by it all the same. You deserved sleep.

He rolled on a condom. If you were awake, you would perhaps give an opinion, but considering you were asleep, he felt better being more cautious. He put some lube on his hardened length for good measure, then laid on his side. He rested a hand on your hip before slowly pushing into you, inch by blissful inch until he was all the way inside.

He bit back a moan, face buried in your shoulder, trying to stay quiet. He could hear your breath hitch, hear the soft whimper that left your lips as he buried himself inside of you. It took him a moment to feel comfortable moving at all, but when he did, he did so slowly. His thrusts were gentle and hesitant, as he still wanted you to get as much sleep as you could.

That is, until one accidentally rough jerk of his hips made you moan loud enough that Wilbur was sure he had woken you. Sure enough, he saw you tilt your head to the side to try and look at him. “…Wilbur?” you asked sleepily.

“Shit.” Wilbur slowly pulled out, hearing you gasp as he did so. “Sorry, darling. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“When did you get back?” you asked. You rolled over to face him, and his hands went down your body once he realized that you were sliding your pants and underwear completely off.

“Ten-ish minutes ago,” Wilbur replied. “Sorry, I was just…”

“Needy?” you asked. Wilbur nodded, and you got on your back, slowly letting your legs fall apart.

Wilbur looked at you with an unmistakable hunger. “You sure? It’s late. I don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.”

“Worth it,” you said. “Come on, you’ve been so busy you’ve hardly touched me the past two weeks. Let out some of that pent-up stress, yeah?”

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Wilbur immediately got between your legs, kissing you hungrily, teeth almost clashing with yours. “How rough can I be?” he asked between desperate kisses.

“Rough as you want,” you replied easily. Wilbur let out a sigh of contentment before kissing you one last time.

“You sure you won’t regret saying that?” Wilbur’s hands gripped the underside of your thighs before gently pressing your legs up against your chest.

“I never do.” He saw your eyes flit to his dick, then his face. “Take the condom off.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Wilbur immediately took it off, discarding it on the floor. He could clean that up later. Right now, he had better things to care about. “Ready for me?”

“More than ready, Mr President.” You had called him ‘Mr President’ in bed once just as a joke to tease him, at least until you’d immediately noticed how much he liked it. Since then, your use of it became more regular. Wilbur could never resist that.

He pressed himself against you before burying himself in you, entering in one quick thrust that left you both gasping. He wasted no time, setting a brutal pace, fucking you as if it were his last day on Earth. “Fucking—Prime, you feel so good,” he panted, hips moving rapidly against yours. What had only minutes before been a silent room became filled with the sounds of gasps, moans, and skin slapping against skin. “Needed you.”

“I’m yours, Wil,” you replied. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, just don’t stop.”

“Won’t.” He could already feel the sweat starting to form on his neck and back, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was fucking into you, the feeling of your soft skin, the way your lips parted as you moaned and whined. His country was beautiful, but it couldn’t hold a torch to you.

He watched as you tried to grasp at him, a plan foiled by your legs getting in the way. Instead, your hands went to the back of your thighs, making sure your legs stayed in place. He continued pounding into you, eyes fixed on your face so he could watch every shift in your expression. “Good?” he asked between thrusts. He was going far rougher than usual, and he wanted to make sure you were still comfortable.

He was met with an eager nod. “Please, Wil, please keep going.” Every plea was music to Wilbur’s ears, and your voice gave him some renewed energy to continue. The bed creaked and groaned underneath you, headboard tapping against the wall. Wilbur was grateful that nobody else lived in the house.

He kept going, spurred onward by your desperate pleas and moans. “Gonna fill you, darling,” Wilbur panted.

“Please! Please, Wil, fuck, I’m close.” He could see some tears gathering in your eyes from the intensity of it all, and he considered it a personal victory.

“I got you,” he said. “Cum for me, love, whenever you’re ready.” He did his best to grind his hips against yours with every thrust, giving you as much friction as possible in order to put you over the edge.

It was a success. You cried out his name in a half-moan, half-sob that rang wonderfully in Wilbur’s ears. Wilbur kept going, pounding into you relentlessly through your orgasm and into overstimulation before he came with a gasp and a shudder. He thrust a few more times to work himself through it before going still.

For a moment, Wilbur simply gasped for air and tried to catch his breath. His lips were parted as he panted, and the kiss you pressed at the corner of his mouth was a welcome feeling. It took him a moment to come back to reality enough to kiss you back.

“I needed that,” Wilbur said finally. “God, you were so fucking good for me. That was perfect.” He certainly felt less stressed after that, still in a post-orgasm haze. “Thank you for this.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “It was a nice way to be woken up.”

“Still sorry I woke you,” Wilbur says. You let go of your thighs, and Wilbur leaned back enough that you could let your legs rest instead of keeping them pressed to your chest. He slowly pulled out, his eyes lingering a bit too long on the sight of his cum leaking out of you. He got out from between your parted legs and rested beside you instead. “Feeling okay?”

“Better than okay,” you said. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You cupped his cheek, and he tilted his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“I won’t be sorry, then.” He sighed, letting his eyes close. Sweat clung to strands of his hair, sticking them to his forehead. He felt your gentle touch brushing his hair out of his face. “You’re so good to me,” he murmured.

“You deserve it.” You snuggled up against him, letting him bury his face in the crook of your neck. He inhaled your scent, earth and salt and sweat. “Now get some sleep. You’ve been working hard.”

“I should clean up first,” he says.

“It can wait until morning,” you reply. “Rest.”

Now that he’d had some much-needed stress relief, he felt like he could. It didn’t take long for him to drift off, nestled against you, the worries of tomorrow far from his mind.