isn’t is so nice that like all our favourite streamers are buddies? like with music artists or actors or whatever, they mention another celebrity and everyone goes nuts that they know that person exists, but here it’s like shelby is friends with ranboo who’s friends with wilbur who’s friends with tommy who’s friends with phil who’s friends with niki who’s friends with jack who’s friends with crumb who’s friends with ted who’s friends with
summary : being an editor for the sorry boys means you witness a lot of embarrassing moments. but there’s no one tommy would trust more with them.
genre : fluff
warnings: swearing, just general tommy-ness
pairing : cc!tommyinnit x gn!editor!reader
pronouns : they/them
featuring : cc!tommyinnit, cc!wilbur soot, cc!sorry boys (mentioned)
request : @gaytoadwithapopsicle can you do being a feminine reader (they/them or she/they) in sorry boys! and it’s tommy x reader (romantic)
word count : 966
note : i made reader an editor cause i had this cute little idea and it’s not really something you see in fics a whole lot
it was late. everyone else had gone home, it was just you, tommy and wilbur. you and wilbur in your separate booths editing videos, tommy sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest as he scrolled through his phone. wilbur was working on the first video and you were doing the colouring for the second, and the three of you had lapsed into a comfortable silence in the few hours you’d been there.
but of course tommy’s calm state had an expiration date that allowed approximately three hours of quiet, and now he was getting bored.
“can we go home?” he huffed. “i didn’t even get a chair. i don’t want to be a floor boy anymore,”
without even looking away from his monitor wilbur pointed at the couch behind him. you glanced at your boyfriend, giving a sympathetic smile. “i’ll be another hour or so, and then i still need to wait ‘till i get a reply. sorry, tom. you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”
tommy sighed dramatically. “i offered you a lift home, i’d be a bit of a shit boyfriend if i left you here alone with him.”
“i’ll split an uber with you?” wilbur offered, spinning slightly in his chair. “make sure you get dropped of first.”
“oi,” tommy said from his position on the floor, pointing threateningly at wilbur. “back off,”
you rolled your eyes affectionately. “sorry, the lighting in this prison was absolutely abysmal. there’s a lot to fix.”
tommy finally pushed himself off the floor and almost tripped walking towards you, looking at your screen. the part you were currently colour-correcting was focused on charlie and wilbur, and tommy nodded resolutely. “yes, there is a lot to fix there. i don’t know how you stomach it,” you laughed quietly with wilbur rolling his eyes, but tommy wasn’t done. “like, look at his fucking hair. it’s too long, i hate it. i know something else that is too long.”
this time it was tommy sniggering at his own joke, but instead you looked up at him from your chair and said “how long we’ve been together.”
at that, wilbur burst into laughter, with tommy trying his best to hold back his own. he was spluttering while attempting to reply, and in the meantime, you decided to go back to your work. “anyway tommy. the amount of shit jokes of yours i have to cut out because they’re just not funny is so incredibly high, if anything it’s your fault we’re still here.”
“fuck you my jokes are funny.” tommy pouted. “at least my face doesn’t look like that.” he pointed to where you had paused on an unfortunate face charlie was making, and you scoffed.
“i have an entire folder of dumb faces you’ve made in videos that i’ve cut out,” you replied. “i just choose not to share them with you because i love you.”
“so you’ve been removing tommy’s face from the entire prison video, then?” wilbur asked.
you nodded. “the second you’re done with the courtroom cut i’ll go back and fix that one too.”
tommy was growing increasingly offended, hiding the fond smile he was directing at you. you’d been hired as an editor for the new group channel because of him, and while he’d known his friends would love you he had been a little worried. the two of you had only been going out for four months before you took the job, and at the time you’d only met wilbur.
but when you first showed up at the office on the day of the first full production meeting, he’d been relieved that everyone loved you. seeing you get along so well with wilbur filled him with comfort, and he resisted the urge to plant a kiss on your forehead, knowing it would break up the banter you were sharing.
“you can talk, wilbur.” he spoke up. “your face is dumb and if i were you i’d keep growing my hair out so no one has to see it.”
“says the kid who got the same haircut as me.” wilbur fired back.
“alright, you two,” you stopped them. “tom, give me half an hour and i’ll be done? then i am all yours for the rest of the night.”
tommy reluctantly nodded, and went to go sit back on the floor. but before he could, wilbur spoke up again. “nah, you guys are alright. you should go home, i’ll finish the rest of it.”
you shook your head, pointedly ignoring the way tommy’s face lit up at the prospect of getting to spend time with you after a very long day. “no, will. it’s too much for one person. it’s my job, i’ll do it. it’s fine, really.”
“whatever i don’t finish tonight, we can do tomorrow,” wilbur encouraged gently. “we’re way ahead of schedule thanks to you. take tonight off, go do what the youths do.”
“yeah, listen to him,” tommy nodded eagerly. “he’s old and wise like a president,”
you looked uncertain, but the fond smile wilbur was giving you both was enough to make you cave. “five minutes to finish up? then we can go home?” tommy nodded and pressed a kiss to your temple. that night, when you got back to your flat, tommy immediately pressed his face into the top of your head, holding you close to him.
“i missed you,” he mumbled. “i’m really glad you took the job. i love working with you.” his voice was low, and you knew he was being uncharacteristically earnest, but you couldn’t resist.
“i think i’m getting sick of you,” you tried, bringing a hand up to scratch his scalp gently.
“no you’re not,” he corrected, closing his eyes against your touch. he wasn’t wrong.
