rating : fluff/comfort, pet names used on reader [ darling, love, and doll ]
wilbur x gn!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]
☆ . you've been overworking yourself, and wilbur has taken notice. he finally gets you to take that well-deserved and needed break. <3
note : i'm in a tiny bit of a writers block, so i decided to give something out of my depths a try [ i'm more experienced in angst ]. anyhow, i hope you enjoy it! any pointers at all are also appreciated, i love to hear them :]
masterlist [ ☆ ]
⋆˙⟡
“Hello, darling.” You're greeted by that soft, mushy tone Wilbur uses whenever he's in a mood. His arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders from behind as you sat on a computer chair, having been working away at editing something for your own projects.
“You haven't left the office in some time.” Wilbur rested his chin along the top of your head, successful in getting you to finally relax back into the seat and effectively a fair amount back into him.
“Hardly call this an office.” You give a light huff, not needing to glance around the room to mentally know how barren it still was. You hadn't had time between keeping up with your own projects and paid-for products for others to decorate the barren room. At most, it had a beanbag in one of the corners and a singular photo of you and Wilbur from one of your dates. One photo, and you had so many ready to be printed. You just needed the time to actually do it.
“I know, love.” He's trying to be understanding, giving a soft sound between a hum and general acknowledgement.
The moment sits for a good moment, and it just feels nice. It makes your mind go blank, not worrying over whatever deadlines were approaching, almost completely forgetting about what projects could and couldn't wait.
Wilbur quietly says your name, drawing your attention and thoughts completely to him. A nice, fairly relaxing feeling washing over you. Realizing just how heavily stressing you had yourself for the past few days. He's quick to grasp your dominant hand into his when you go to reach for the mouse to your computer again.
“Take a break, please. A real break, love.” You can hear the concern lightly lacing into his tone. Wilbur moves a bit, instead to slightly kneel beside you, your hand still held in his yet in an easy grasp that you can pull away from. You wouldn't have pulled away no matter what.
“I just need to save the progress,” you try to explain, ignoring the wave of nervousness that hits. The realization you were about to put your much necessary work down to take a break. Something you convinced yourself you didn't need no matter how much you truly did.
You can practically feel Wilbur's eyes flicker over you, likely seeing through whatever calmness you were visibly projecting. He removes his hand from yours, replacing the touch by letting his hand cup around your shoulder. On his way to standing completely, he presses a kiss to your temple. Seeing the application close a moment later, showing the homescreen of a picture you took and held sentimental value to.
You take his hand in yours again when he offers it, standing and instantly moving in. Wrapping your arms around his torso, and yeah, you've missed this. Wilbur's arms move in an automatic manner, efficiently pulling you closer to him as you press your face into his shirt. Just breathing him in for a few seconds, basking in the warmth he had all the same.
It stays like that, the two of you in a much needed embrace that had you both melting against one another.
“Bed?” Wilbur is the first to break the peaceful silence. It's definitely a welcome break of the quiet. Realizing just how much you've missed hearing his voice, feeling the way his chest moved as he breathed, listening to the way his heart beat when you pressed your ear against his chest..
When you finally nod at his question, having gotten carried away with that last point, he surprises you by suddenly wrapping his hands along the back of your thighs. Taking that as your signal and slightly jumping up for him so he can pick you up easier. Legs slightly curled along the sides of his waist, your arms moving to wrap around his neck. He uses both of his hands to support your bottom, making sure you were both good before he made his way out of the office.
You just mostly rest your cheek on top of his shoulder, feeling almost like you could fall asleep. Though, from past experience, you knew your legs would hate you if you did that.
Wilbur has to remove one of his hands a couple of times for doors, but you're mostly supported the entire time. He taps the bedroom door shut with his foot before moving towards the bed. Pressing one knee into it before letting you go through your theatrics and dramatics. He chuckles fondly as you groan when your back hits the comfortable mattress. Proceeding to give a sound of complaint as you stretch your limbs out over and off the side of the bed. You think bones that weren't supposed to pop popped, but that would be an issue for future you.
“What are you doing?” You queried with pure curiosity, watching as Wilbur moved himself off of the bed. Continuing to lay there, content in taking up the entire space as if you were a cat.
“Can't exactly sleep in jeans, darling.” There's a hint of amusement as Wilbur speaks. Laughing the slightest bit when you give a soft and long “ooohh” in return. “Work on getting comfortable, doll.” He partially motions towards the sheets you were laying on top of.
Any other day, you'd make some witty comeback, maybe a suggestive comment on him changing in front of you. You just don't have the energy for it at the moment, though. Mentally committing the moment to memory so you can be a little extra next time to make up for lack-thereof this time.
By the time Wilbur's finally in some comfortable pyjama pants, which were Grinch themed, you were under the covers and practically almost lights out just laying there. You feel him crawl into the bed, giving a content hum and moving on your side to face him, instantly hinting at not wanting to spoon.
“Hi darling.” Wilbur had a small yet sweet smile on his face, pulling you close by wrapping his arms around your waist. Both of you let your legs intertwine and tangle together as much as possible. You wrap your arms around his torso once more, happy to be holding him as he holds you.
“Hi sweetheart.” You hum right back, watching as he can't hold back the smile tugging into a borderline grin. Always one to be happy over the reciprocation of pet names. You loved watching him get all happy and giggly over it.
“Okay, okay. Try and get some sleep, love.” Wilbur moves, pressing a kiss to your nose. Having fully expected a more proper kiss, you pout at him, promptly making kissy lips at him. It just gets him to let out a light yet amused laugh, finally moving and pressing a soft, loving, and fulfilling kiss to your lips.
When he pulls away, you tuck your head right under his chin. Relaxing and enjoying the warmth that was provided inside and out.
“Hey, Wil?” You make sure your voice is a soft whisper.
“Yeah?” Wilbur moved one of his hands to trace light patterns along your back using his fingers, the action soothing.
rating : suggestive themes towards the end [ 16+ ], fluff leaning, petnames used on reader [ toots and sweetcheeks ], jealous schlatt
jschlatt x gn!reader
☆ in which you're at a party with schlatt and things don't go as planned. at least you get a kiss out of it? <3
note : i don't usually write for schlatt, so i hope that you enjoy !
request [ ☆ ]
masterlist [ ☆ ]
[ Prompts : 53. a breathy demand: “kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond + 62. sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss ]
⋆˙⟡
Parties weren't usually your forte.
Schlatt had been invited to one, getting a plus one in the process, and ultimately, you ended up tagging along. You weren't sure how the party would go, considering you didn't usually bother with them.
As you mostly stuck to Schlatt's side, you were fairly quiet compared to the music that blasted through speakers. Grown adults acting like teenagers as some either danced along, shouted drunkenly over the music, or nursed their -likely alcoholic- drinks. Or all three at once.
You were starting to get antsy from where you stood besides Schlatt, who had been talking to one of his friends. You hadn't paid much mind, focusing mostly on trying to tune out the stimulating music so effectively, your entire surroundings. That was done mostly by either looking around the area nonstop or at Schlatt like you're in a daze of awe.
He hadn't dressed up too nice, just in a casual outfit. But his hair was put up into that one bun that would usually make your heart skip a beat. Suddenly, you’re ready to be done with everything happening around you. You moved one of your hands, your finger looping around one of the belt loops to Schlatt’s jeans with a slight tug. A silent notion to get his attention and essentially say that you’re getting fairly bored and ready to go home, or at least leave the place.
Schlatt simply tries to wave the motion off, having moved one of his arms to wrap around you and rest a hand on the small of your back. It was clear he hadn’t gotten your message, but at least he gave you some form of physical attention.
It takes a while before you do anything else, having just leaned against his side a bit for support until the guy he's conversing with finally walks away. You hadn't been listening to whatever he said his excuse was, so you paid the guy no mind.
“What's wrong, toots?” Schlatt suddenly asks, voice low in your ear as he had leaned over just slightly to whisper to you. It made some shivers run down your spine, but you played it off by moving to hold your arms as you leaned against him.
“I'm ready to go, baby.” You spoke in a tone equal to his, as you moved your head to look at him more properly.
“If you want to head out, then go. I've got some other friends I need to catch up with.” He slightly grunted moving to remove himself from you so that you could easily move. The action only served to make you frown as you moved to hold onto his shirt with one of your hands.
“I thought we were going to hang out tonight, though.” You tilted your head just slightly, watching as Schlatt sighed and nodded. He glanced around for a moment before placing his hands along your waist.
“And we can still hang out, just later at home, m'kay sweetcheeks?” He raised a brow in question, though it was obvious it wasn't fully up to debate. You knew you had a choice to stay or wait for later, though. It just went unsaid.
“I can wait for you to be done.” You ultimately decide, which makes Schlatt frown for a moment but ultimately nods and agrees.
In an instant, you have to bite your tongue to hold back verbal disagreement as his hands are removed from your body. You just let him, mostly continuing to stick to his side as he moves on to talk with another friend.
Of course, you don't stay by his side for much longer. Straying off a bit to see if they had any water or soda that wasn't doused with alcohol in it. The kitchen has an island counter with a couple shamelessly making out on it, making your face twist up in discomfort.
Your look for soda proved successful, grabbing a solo cup that had been left untouched and poured yourself some soda from the bottle. Ignoring the sounds from the couple, you just move on with yourself, solo cup of soda in hand as you found a place to sit in that had been relatively clean. Which just happened to be a vacant loveseat that was actually more comfortable than it looked.
You sat there for the better half of an hour, slowly sipping your soda and letting time pass. Someone had joined you at some point on the loveseat, some girl who was definitely under the influence of something with how comfortable she was just talking and leaning against you.
At some point, Schlatt had finished talking with some of the guys at the party. He'd set out on a search for you, only to eventually find some girl practically trying to size you up. Of course, you were oblivious as ever to her futile attempts whatsoever.
“Hey, who's your new friend?” He asks as he steps along your side of the loveseat, his hand resting along the back of it in a near tense manner. He loves the way you look at him when you tilt your head back to see his own face properly.
The girl doesn't seem put off by his words or tone of voice, simply smiling in a doped out manner. She simply squeezed your arm with a wink before getting up and walking off to find somebody else to bug.
Seeing the action alone made something in Schlatt short circuit. Momentarily, he considers going after the girl before realizing how it would look if he tried to argue or fight with her. Instead, he just huffs air through his nose and proceeds to yank you up from the loveseat, uncaring of the small sound of surprise that came from you. He hadn't been listening to what you said, anyway.
“Kiss me,” He demanded in a low tone, suddenly uncaring of just how public they were. Schlatt needed the reassurance that something like that hadn't torn your feelings from him, even if it was a minor thing.
“Right now?” You ask in a surprised tone, completely caught off guard by the sudden switch he had. It was almost hard to understand, not initially realizing where this newfound disquiet mixed with agitation came from.
“Right now.” Schlatt slightly grumbled out, one of his hands moving to wrap around your waist in order to pull you closer. You don't let him kiss you, placing your hand over his mouth and effectively separating where your lips would have connected.
Your nerves crawled over you, making you glance around at the other party people. You knew your relationship wasn't a secret, but it wasn't entirely public, either, considering Schlatt liked to keep the relationship to one another.
Anybody could recognize him in some way.
You grasp one of his hands into yours and move to walk, guiding him away from the practical centre of the party. Finding a way to a staircase that led up, taking the flight with him easily following behind you. It was easy to tell the bedrooms of the house were off limits, or just in use, so you took a moment to spot the bathroom.
You hardly have enough time to get a word out when the door clicked shut, suddenly having been pinned. Schlatt’s arms were on either side of your body, effectively keeping you in place. You hadn't even heard the click of the lock as your eyes remained on his.
“Don’t make me say it again.” Schlatt had a slight grumble to his tone, clearly wanting that kiss without too much work from his end. He just wanted this for reaffirmation that you were still his.
Your hands found their ways to his face, cupping his cheeks, and you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. Practically holding your breath as you felt the hairs of his moustache against your own upper lip a fair amount. Your hands going over the mutton chops he had, having refused to get rid of them on multiple occasions, as you held more of his jaw than anything else for now.
The moment of what seemed to be intimacy remained, though Schlatt was quick to take charge without hesitation. He had moved you with ease, making it so you sat atop the sink counter as he kissed you without hesitation. He ends up catching you off guard with a pinch to your side, making you let out a slight sound of protest to which he uses as an entry way for his tongue into your mouth.
You two essentially stayed there and made-out, both now near uncaring of the party and the music downstairs. It was nice, you had to admit, the way he kissed you almost feverishly. It wasn't often that it happened, but when it did, it always made those butterflies soar high in your chest.
When the kiss finally seems like it's done, you're both catching your breaths, Schlatt’s forehead pressed against your own. Before you could wiggle out of his grasp to get down, he clicks his tongue with a tisk. The sound made you automatically pause yourself as you looked at him attentively.
“Did I say we were done, toots?” He uses a low tone that sends shivers down your spine. You slowly shake your head no, feeling yourself freeze when one of his hands finds it spot along your neck.
“Everybody at the party's gonna know who you belong to.”
☆ you attend another party like you would any other, you didn't expect to meet him. <3
note : new years special !! i'm so sorry this was posted so late. it was meant to be out the first or second, but stuff happened :( i hope you enjoy it at least a bit <3
masterlist [ ☆ ]
⋆˙⟡
You were usually one to be out and about, never truly home for longer than a good night's rest or an off chance of rare downtime. Always the one work friend to get invited out by friends for social gatherings or even a party.
Currently, you were at one of your best friends' New Years party. Something that you had been invited to weeks ago and had contemplated showing face at because you knew there would be drunk lunatics out and about that didn’t care for others safety, let alone their own.
You had expected to see and meet people you didn’t know. It just hadn’t been counted for that you’d meet someone who seemed to take genuine interest in you.
He had walked up to you some odd minutes after your friend left to go use the bathroom. Introduced himself as Wilbur, shaking your hand in the process.
The man hadn’t seemed interesting at first, just someone you thought would be casual conversation. The thing that had piqued your attention most was when he mentioned that he was practising to become a musician.
Conversation took off from there, and it seemed like he knew every point to keep you into talking with him. He wasn’t charming by any means. He seemed off in a way that made your stomach nearly start churning. You’d put the feeling off for the time being since you didn’t think you would talk with him ever again.
What you didn’t know was just how excited Wilbur had been to finally talk with you. On one hand, he wanted to pat himself on the back because you hadn’t recognized him. On the other hand, he wanted to break something over you not knowing who he was.
Wilbur had been watching you for some time, having first spotted you at another party much like the one you were both currently at. A lot of alcohol, people who couldn’t shut their mouths, loud music. He knew the date down to a capital T.
He had taken a particular eye to you after some guy had spilt his drink on you, having gone as far as to follow you to the bathroom. At the time, Wilbur had fully intended to ask if you were okay, but seeing you in a vulnerable position made his heart nearly palpitate, something that hadn’t happened to him in a long time.
It was at that moment he knew what you were. You were his. His unknowing angel and saviour.
He started taking time out of his day to learn about you after that, thinking he just wanted to get to know you at first. Now, he knows everything about you. He knows your favourite colour, snack, and comfort foods. He knows your parents' and grandparents' names as well as their places of residence. He knows that you organize your books on your favoured bookshelf in your living room by author and series. Wilbur is also fully aware of what’s kept in your bedside dressers.
In other words, he knows you intimately. Even if you didn't know it.
Wilbur smiles a bit, looking at you in awestruck as he managed to get you to laugh at a joke he had made. You were hardly tipsy, so he wanted to think you found something genuine.
“Would you like to dance with me? I think the countdown is about to start.” He asks you, having leaned a fraction closer so you could hear him over the music. The look you give him makes his heart flutter in his chest, but he manages to force down every surfacing urge he had in the moment.
“I don't see why not! Do you have a partner?” You're so shameless when you ask, not a lick of hesitance or embarrassment. A thing he loved so dearly about you. He shakes his head no in response, though, having thought long ahead to not have a partner to begin with.
“No, I don't. I was just going to share a glass of wine with my friend.” He smiles sheepishly, and you're none the wiser. You strongly believed no one should be alone on New Years, and sure, Wilbur says he has someone to share a glass with, but that was it?
“Let’s go and dance, then! What are we waiting for!” Your words are rhetorical as you move, taking the solo cup Wilbur had from his hand and finding the nearest spot to set down both of your drinks.
You were quick to find both your hands in both of his own, pulling Wilbur out to the dance space everybody was in. It was crowded, but it wasn't bad.
Time is lost in the moment. Nobody keeps up with it until the music suddenly cuts. There's some cheering before the countdown starts.
You lean against Wilbur without hesitation, your shoulder pressing against his arm as you count down. Wilbur couldn't be bothered to pay mind to anything or anyone other than you. Sparing him a glance when you feel his hand move to your lower back when you nearly fell backwards.
When one is reached, everybody cheers. Some people instantly go in for their partners.
Wilbur hesitates, really wanting you to like- to want him the way he wants you. He gives in to the major urge on top, leaning in and kissing your cheek. The action makes you turn to him in near surprise before it melts.
“If you're gonna take a New Years kiss, take it right.” He could barely hear your words over the loud sounds. Wilburs eyes widen a fraction when your hands find his face and pull him in for a full kiss, your soft lips pressed against his chapped ones.
He feels light, like he's soaring through the clouds. One of his hands moving to the nape of your neck to keep the kiss just a bit longer, having been waiting for this moment for so long.
It feels too soon when the kiss is broken, and he instantly craves more. Wilbur knew better than anyone, though, that you never brought anybody from a party home with you.
That didn't mean he'd break his habit of following you after the party ends regardless.
“You're not too bad of a kisser.” You indirectly compliment with a smile that sends blood rushing, his face tinting a slight red from becoming flustered.
Suddenly, all he wants to do is hide you away from the world and claim you as his, even if he already had.
“You're not too bad yourself,” He comments with faux confidence. “Hope you don't mind if I ask you for your number?” He asks, that nervous tone slipping in. Wilbur doesn't miss the small and brief frown before the oh-so-soft smile.
“I don't see why not.”
You had no idea what you've just gotten yourself into.
rating : fluffy drabble, kisses, use of petname on reader [ darling ]
wilbur x gn!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]
☆ you and will in a hammock, what will you do. <3
masterlist [ ☆ ]
⋆˙⟡
“What are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same.” Will says, shifting just slightly in the hammock he was sitting in.
You wordlessly moved to join him after he made room for you. Your head resting on one shoulder close to the crook of his neck while one of your arms rested over his chest and other shoulder. One leg carefully between both of his, looped beneath the leg closest to you.
The stars shone bright above you two as Will rested his cheek against the top of your head wordlessly. When he thinks you've fallen asleep he presses a kiss to the top of our head.
“What are you doing?” You ask, like a broken record as you look up at him. You hadn't expected the kiss whatsoever.
“I was kissing you goodnight.” He hums out in a quiet tone, clearly in peace with the moment.
“Then kiss me right, you goof.” You playfully huff out, pretending to be upset even though you clearly weren't. A small smirk tugged at Will's lips in response though.
“Oh, which way is the right way, darling?” He asks, moving his hand up to cup your cheek. “Is it this way?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Or this?” A kiss to your brow. “Orrr..” A kiss to your nose before your cheek, some small laughs escaping you as he pressed a few more kisses to your face.
You lightly swear at him with a small pout, moving your arm that was tossed over his torso to hold his neck in your hand. Tugging him in the right direction. Just barely pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips due to how he moves last second.
“Ohhh, you meant a kiss kiss.” Will teases with a grin. “All you had to do was say so.” You don't get any complaints out because he moves and presses a kiss against your lips.
He shifts just slightly, moving to mildly hover above you as he kisses you. Before anything could go further, there's a small snap above your heads. Startled sounds escaping you both as the hammock fell towards the ground. The branch that the hammock was tied to had broken.
“Oh my gosh, you broke it!” You jokingly cry out, moving your hand to playfully push Will's face away from yourself.
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.
rating : hurt/comfort, petnames used on reader [ love + sunshine ]
wilbur x gn!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]
☆ wilbur finally comes home from touring after you have had a long few months day. <3
masterlist [ ☆ ]
note : n/a [ enjoy ! ]
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It had been a long day, and you were ready to curl up into your bed. Getting home was hard enough for you because you had to go through the motions you went through every day.
You didn't bother with flicking the lights switch to the living room, just walking about almost automatically till you reached your horribly empty bedroom. Fighting back tears as you flicked only that switch up, standing in the threshold to your bedroom, staring at the messy and unmade bed.
Usually, you'd have someone to share it with, someone to kiss away the bad and ugly terrors of the harsh day. But your love had been gone for nearly two full months now, having been on tour with his band.
You were proud of him, him being Wilbur. You texted him good morning, and I love you. As consistently as possible, anyway. You usually got a response, whether it was right away or delayed. Today had been a no response day, a day he was meant to go out on stage.
You don't know how long you stood there for, but eventually, you managed to move your heavy feet towards Wilbur's dresser. Pulling the top drawer out and picking one of Wilbur's sweaters you had seen him wear before, pushing the drawer closed after and trying not to stumble over to your bed as you tried to take your clothes from the day off. Now sporting the sweater and, eventually, some soft shorts to rest in.
You almost forgot about the light, trying not to cry over how overwhelmed you already were from the events of the day. You didn't want to walk all the way back over to the light switch, the idea of it all making you feel worse than you initially did.
After a long internal debate and disagreement, you found it better to turn the light off, seeing as that would make resting much easier. You were quick to find yourself in the bed on Wilbur's side right after, curling up around one of the two pillows Wilbur usually used to sleep with.
Just a couple more weeks, you tell yourself.
It's difficult, though, especially with how lonely it's gotten. You haven't been the same since he started touring. You tried hard to stay in contact with at least your own friends, and you tried talking to them about stuff you would usually discuss with Wilbur. Yet it all felt wrong. It felt out of place.
Wilbur was your best friend as much as he was your lover. He meant the world to you, and you wanted to stay by his side throughout it all. But you loved him to an unsurprising fault. You wanted him happy, and if that happiness for him was singing his heart out on stage for fans rather than being in bed with you after a long day? Then you supported it.
Sometimes, like right now, as tears silently trail down your face and against the pillows you used, you wonder what would've happened if you told him honestly how you felt about the touring. It was breaking you, tearing you apart at the heart.
You fall asleep, swarmed with the negative thoughts and the feeling of longing for a lover that's not where he could've been. You're asleep long before the front door opens.
Wilbur had been at the airport, seeing the notification for an "I love you" from his favourite person, yet he's distracted before he gets the chance to respond. The gates to his flight had been announced, meaning he had to rush and get to his plane with the rest of his band and crew.
It's long, longer than Wilbur would have liked, but they eventually had finished the process of everything. Boarding the plane and sitting for what felt like forever before it finally touched ground once more.
Tiredly, each individual took their respective rides to their own homes. It was nearly four in the morning by now, and Wilbur was definitely struggling with jet lag, yet that didn't deter his own growing excitement.
He was headed home to his beloved, happy to finally get to hold you in his arms once more. Wilbur was silly, yes, but he knew you'd be long asleep. That's why he remains silent when he finally makes it home, not daring to utter a single word as he clicks the front door shut behind him. Taking a deep breath of the welcoming air before letting out a sigh of relief and thanks.
Wilbur takes his time, knowing that he's likely to stay up until later into the evening. His first stop after abandoning his shoes by the front door is your shared room. He hadn't bothered to knock, not wanting to awaken your slumber as he slipped into the room. His heart melted as his gaze landed on you in the dark room, able to tell that your form rested in his usual spot, clutching a pillow in your grasp.
Momentarily, he had to stop and remind himself it was a pillow. He would not be jealous of a pillow.
Wilbur steps closer after a moment of basking in the atmosphere. He has to strain his eyes, but he can tell from anywhere that you had gone to sleep upset. Gently, he presses his hand to your cheek and can feel the old tears dried on your face. His heart breaks for you as he momentarily notices that you're wearing his sweater.
For the time being, he carefully removes the pillow from your hold. Not bothering to change out of his own clothes, the idea on the back of his mind more than anything. His arms effortlessly slotted around your waist after sliding you both closer towards your side of the bed.
“I'm home,” He hummed out softly, knowing you weren't conscious to hear him but that at least your subconscious and body would pick up on his presence. He hoped he could ease you more than you already were, if you even were.
When you wake up, it's not an alarm that wakes you. Something you had forgotten to set in the midst of getting caught up with your feelings the night before. You wake up to a foreign yet familiar warmth surrounding you, an arm around your waist and a hand combing through your hair gingerly.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize Wilbur was in your bed holding you. However, it does take a minute to realize that your tears have started up again.
“You're alright, love, I'm right here.” Wilbur gently hushes you as he moves his hand in your hair to gently cup the back of your head. Successfully, he pulls you closer so that you're comfortably pressed against him, head against his chest as his chin rests atop your head.
“I thought you weren't coming home anytime soon?” You manage to mutter, the words muffled. It takes a minute for Wilbur to process the words in full, but he softly sighs when he realizes what you've said.
“I know, sunshine, and I'm so sorry. But I'm home now, I'm safe, you're safe.” His reassurances help you even just slightly.
You can't bring yourself to say anything, none of the words you want to say are going beyond your thoughts. The thoughts that circle you like vultures waiting for their snack.
You just sigh, letting your body relax as your arms move to hug and curl around his back. Holding him just as close and tight without hesitation. You've been without him for too long, and you think the hold is enough to start with for the moment.
Though Wilbur can tell there's more that needs to be said, he leaves it be. He knows you'll talk to him when you're ready.
For now, he's holding you as close and tight as he possibly can. Pressing a sweet kiss to the top of your head as he lets himself properly relax with you.
rating : fluffy headcanons + drabbles, use of petnames on reader [ darling and love ]
dating wilbur soot headcanons !
note : i thought i'd give headcanons / drabbles a try. i have a few ideas for other characters, but i'm unsure as to if i should format them like this or as oneshots. either way, i'll figure it out. i hope you enjoy !
masterlist [ ☆ ]
⋆˙⟡
— he's the type to hold your hand whenever, whether or not you're dating. in the store? he'll randomly reach for your hand and hold it. if your arms are full, he'll take some items off your hands and take your freshly free hand in his own free hand.
— he loves holding you in general. his favourite way to hold you is by wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. he’ll also wrap his arm around your shoulder at random, especially if he notices someone making you uncomfortable.
— he loves singing soft songs to you, whether or not it's a song he made. he loves laying with you after a long day and softly humming or singing you to sleep, especially. he absolutely adores it when you do it for him in return, but he won’t say so.
— he’s not the type to get jealous, he trusts you wholeheartedly, but he’ll get jealous if he sees someone you're not related to get particularly touchy with you.
“Darling? Oh, hello, am I interrupting?” Wilbur had just walked over, moving to hold your hand in one of his own as his other arm wrapped around your shoulders.
The person you had been talking to had instantly grown tense and backed off, seeing how touchy Wilbur instantly had been with you when they had to work up to grazing your arm or hold one of your hands. Not missing the usage of “darling”, either.
“No, we were just chatting.” You answered with ease, unaware of the mood shift from the other person as you leaned into Wilbur.
“Yeah, just chatting. I actually have to go, my friends are waiting on me.” They dismiss, offering no more than a small wave and hardly any time for a chance to respond before they leave.
Wilbur places a kiss on your cheek right after, moving to properly wrap his arms around your waist. “They left quickly.” You had grumbled under your breath with a slight huff, clearly not realizing they had been flirting with you.
“It's alright, let's go get something to snack on, love.”
— he's definitely the type to randomly throw tiny things at you. he'll throw a random piece of popcorn during a movie at home. when you're reading he'll ball up a ripped piece of paper and throw it at you. the only things he'll properly hand to you are important objects, like a tamagotchi.
— speaking of tamagotchi, he'll definitely at some point co-parent one with you. he names it together with you and will switch with you throughout the day. when he goes on tour, if you don’t come with him, he lets you keep it.
— he’s definitely written songs about and for you. whether it's a soft song about the morning spent together or a song about your ups and downs, it’s written with attention and love. he usually likes to get your opinion on the songs he’s written, but he’ll wait until the songs for you are completely done.
— when you do decide to go on tour with him, he's completely smitten and ecstatic to bring you along. you get along well with Ash, Joe, and Mark and usually go souvenir shopping and get Wilbur a gift. he's definitely had you step on stage to dance with him at least once if you were too shy to sing.
Wilbur lets out a breath, feeling like he was the embodiment of power and euphoria. His eyes go to his band mates just behind him on the stage, momentarily blocking out the crowd before his eyes land on you, just behind the curtain. A familiar loving look falls over his features as he smiles that one smile specifically for you, raising a hand and motioning you over.
They were already getting ready for their next song, but he had a sense of urgency to be close to you. When you shake your head with a clearly obviously nervous smile, he walks away from his position. Behind the curtain, his hands would find your own as his lips press to yours for even just a second before he's gently tugging you along as he steps back out onto the open stage.
He loves when you fold and join him, especially when you slip into what seemed like a natural role on stage. He can't bring himself to do anymore than take long glances when he starts talking or singing once more. Wilbur felt like his breath was taken away more and more with each passing second, yet not from the crowd or the singing.
rating : fluff, petname used on reader [ darling ]
wilbur x gn!reader [ use of you/yours, no use of y/n ]
☆ you meet wilbur after a lovejoy concert, it's not the last time you see one another. perhaps there's more than originally thought to be. <3
request [ ☆ ]
masterlist [ ☆ ]
⋆˙⟡
You didn't believe in “love at first sight”.
You liked to consider yourself an actually pretty average person. Having a decent job as a security guard for a theatre that had frequent shows and a good amount of hours.
You stood to the side, having been assigned around the barrier since you got in some odd hours ago, slightly leaning back against the stage in a spot that didn’t obstruct anybody's viewpoint. Watching as the process for the next band, a band named Lovejoy, made their way towards the stage.
They were meant to be the last band for the venue tonight. An up and coming band one of your friends had briefly ranted to you about, but not a band you truly listened to since indie nor indie rock was your vibe.
You had to move from your spot a couple times when a couple of people would try to shove the people already at the barrier, needing to break up a couple spats before they could evolve into something worse. On your second round of going back to your spot, you made the mistake of looking at the lead singer.
It was like your breath had been stolen for the first time. Watching the way he moved with a slight sway, his hands leaving the guitar he was playing to wrap around the mic and the stand itself.
You snap yourself out of it quicker than it started, needing to focus on your job. But now that you’ve fully noticed him, you can’t tune out his voice or the way his band seems to actually play together. It was nice.
You don’t notice that you’ve caught his eye in return.
It isn’t until later, after your manager asks you to stay behind and help double check that everything was in place and safe with a promise of overtime pay, that you actually get to talk to him. He had stayed behind, his band still there somewhere backstage. You were triple checking the barriers one last time when you heard someone clear their throat behind you, hand instantly flying to your baton that was attached to your belt when you turned around. Only to end up relaxing and giving an apologetic smile when you notice it was the lead singer from the last band.
“You should be careful. Not all security will look first.” It’s a light warning, one that he seems to get slightly nervous over as his hand moves to rub at the back of his neck.
“Guess I got lucky then, huh?” He seems slightly sheepish, moving to hold his hands in front of himself as he looks towards you. The look he was giving wasn’t one you could distinguish from, though, almost reminding you of someone who was in awe of something or someone. “What’s your name? I don’t think we were introduced when the band and I first got in.”
“No, we weren’t.” You huff out a light laugh before giving him your name, offering your hand to shake in greeting. The man takes your hand with ease, firmly shaking your hand as a smile pulls at his lips.
“I’m Wilbur, or Will, depending on what you’ve heard. But you can call me what you’d like.” You raise a brow, suddenly curious as to how many names the man is known by. Decidedly, you bite your tongue and let the question remain unanswered.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Will. You and your band were lovely tonight. The girls were fighting over barrier for you.” You partially joke, lightly hitting the back of your knuckle against the barrier before crossing your arms over your chest. “What are you still doing here? Your show is over. Surely you’re ready to pass out for the night.” There’s just barely a tint of concern to your voice. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen bands after their concerts. Most went off on adrenaline, but you’ve seen the type where they instantly find a place backstage to momentarily crash.
Wilbur gives a partial smile as you speak, mostly watching as your lips move when you speak. “I saw you, and I was curious. I couldn't help myself.” He slightly chuckles, pressing his hands into his pockets this time. “Say, are you busy tonight or tomorrow? I'd love to take you out to eat.”
You can't help but give a sound of confusion. Why would he have wanted to take you out to eat at all? Surely, he wanted something out of it since not every lead singer would approach a random person to take them out.
“I'm not sure, I have a busy day tomorrow, and my bed at home yearns for my return.” You try to turn him down lightly, not missing the slight tug of a frown on his face before he gives another smile.
“That's fine. Can we exchange numbers then?” He's getting nervous, unlike when he initially approached. It makes you stall for a moment before you hum and offer a nod.
“Sure, that's more doable.” Your tone is calm, and to Wilbur, it's almost soft.
It takes a moment, but you exchange phones and effectively numbers. Chatting for just a bit longer before Wilbur dismisses himself first.
That night, when you're laying in bed, is the first time you both exchange conversation through text. It isn't the last by any means.
Conversation came easy between you two whenever it occurred. Whether it was in between his concerts or you being sleep deprived at three in the morning, it wasn't ever awful.
It takes a long time for you two when you see each other next. Wilbur, having gone on his second tour around your area, and coincidentally, the theatre you worked at again. It fell on a day that you didn't work, but that didn't mean you didn't get backstage access.
It was a similar tour to the last one you had been working on, songs from the same albums but ones they hadn't played last time. It was like they had an allure to them this time, something that just made you want to dance with someone. It could have just been the fact that you had grown more than fond over Wilbur’s voice over the hour after hour of phone calls that piled up in your logs after having met him.
When the concert ends, he takes his time heading backstage with his band. Wilbur is the one to spot you first, quick to run over, and wrap his arms around you in a welcoming embrace. You were quick to reciprocate with a wide grin, happy to finally see him in person after so long.
“I didn’t think you would be here today.” His tone is quiet, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek before moving to the nape of your neck. It wasn’t a hold you had expected from Wilbur of all people, yet it wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, it just made a strange bout of butterflies rise up in your stomach without warning.
“I wanted to surprise you,” You hum out with little hesitation, just enjoying the fact that you get to see him in person again as friends. Ignoring the slight chill that ran through you at that last part, it was all but perfect. “This time, my night is free if you’d like dinner together after your show?”
“Assuming you’re paying, of course.” It’s a joke he gives as his hands leave you, the warmth going with him yet some remaining behind enough. Comfortably, you pressed your hands into your pockets with a softer smile.
“Nah, but we can split the check unless you’re feeling like a gentleman tonight.” You joke right back, bumping the side of your hip against his as you move to walk past him. He’s quick to follow after you, looping one of his arms in your own as you walk together now.
“You should get ready for that dent in your bank account, darling.” You huff out a laugh, the cheeky grin on his face displaying that he was at least partially playing around.
“The only dent that'll happen tonight is the one to your ego when you end up paying for it.” it makes your chest warm, being able to talk and joke with Wilbur in any manner, especially in person.
“Is it a date?” He asks, and there's an underlying tone of genuine curiosity. Taking it at surface value, though, it sounded mostly playful.
