i dont deserve you (you deserve the world)
mega fluff :)))
CW!!! mentions of eating and overworking, you/your pronouns, no use of y/n, wilbur quits reader's job without asking, small panic
wolfbur x reader - 800 words
proofread by @drop-of-void ty ty
notes: ive been in a very soft mood and this fic is incredibly self indulgent :))
Wilbur missed you.
You hadn’t had a day off work in weeks and you were so exhausted that the only thing you could do when you arrived home was curl up in his arms and sleep. And as a lycan he was very comfortable to sleep next to.
So that was the routine. You would wake up extremely early, attempt - and fail - to eat something, and head directly to work. Wilbur would make you something that would be easy to scarf down when you came home at an ungodly hour, with plenty of nutrients, and then you would fall asleep next to him.
And repeat.
Wilbur had decided this was enough, you were working yourself to death and it pained him to see you nauseous so often that you were rapidly losing weight. So he finally called your boss and ‘gently’ explained that you would not be working today. Or ever again. And when you woke up that early morning, he pulled you back to bed.
“Wilbur I’m going to be late- stop- Wilbur stop!” You cried out anxiously. He loosened his grip, but still held you, kissing your head and petting you gently.
“Hey, hey, you’re not going to be late, darling! I called you in sick, okay? You need to rest, I…” He looked down at you, your eyes tearing up, “Oh honey, come here.” He wrapped his arms around you and cooed softly, almost tearing up himself.
“Darling, you are not going back to work,” he said, trying to be firm without sounding upset. “I… I called your boss and said that you wouldn’t be coming back..” He waited for your reaction.
“You- you did what?” You panicked trying to push away from him and get to your phone.
“Darling- my love, please- sweetheart.” He held your shoulders and crouched to be eye level with you. “You are overworked. I will take care of you and the house and any other needs you may have, but you are not going back to work.” He was firm enough that you obliged, but you could tell he really cared for you. You were his mate! It was his job to protect and care for you.
He gently guided you back to bed and brushed his fingers through your hair until you fell into a peaceful sleep.
After a few hours, when the sun spilled golden light past the curtains, Wilbur carefully got out of bed. He padded over to the kitchen and made a breakfast you would be able to keep down, stored it in the fridge, and then he got to work on cleaning.
He started in the living room, wiping down the large window that looked out into the garden and dusting all the trinkets that sat on the ledge. Moving to the right, he carefully took down your books from their shelves - remembering the order they were in, even if you had hundreds - and cleared away all the dust. Once they were all back in place, he continued with the desk that hid in the corner of the room, creating its own little nook. He cleared away the balled up papers, week old cups, and many, many, energy drinks. He emptied your small bin, replacing the bag, and then continued dusting.
You had many small items around the house, trying to fill it as much as possible. As a kid, you had to keep your room minimalist. Nothing on the walls, everything put in its place, and if these rules were broken, your parents would come in with trash bags and throw everything away.
Wilbur knew how important these were to you, so he took care in making sure everything was nicely back in its place.
By the time he was done with the living room, you had woken up, softly toddling over to him as he greeted you with a hug. His large t-shirt hung loosely on your tiny frame and your hair was a bit of a mess.
“Hello, my darling!” he whispered, a large grin on his face, “I made you something to eat that shouldn’t upset your stomach, would you like to follow me to the kitchen?” He was very patient, allowing you to say no, but you nodded and he walked you to the fridge. He made sure not to watch you eat, busying himself with more cleaning until you were done.
“Wilbur?” He heard your small voice from the kitchen and rushed over.
“Yes, love?” You were crying again, but you had finished your food. He sat next to you, gently taking your hands. “Honey, what’s the matter?”
“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him, “Thank you for caring about me.”
His heart melted. Of course he cared about you! Not just because you were his mate, but because you were an amazing person. Your smile lit up the room tenfold and your voice - your laughter - was something he could listen to on repeat for the rest of his life.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too.”