#DADBUR

[ax-y10]

promise

in which; wilbur comes home late and exhausted and brushes past his daughter

about; dad!bur au, so many different perspectives, angst to fluff, i wrote this in two hours very late at night so it's not the best, kisses, fighting, crying, wilbur being bad bad, wilbur ignoring your daughter, swearing, happy ending yayay, gender neutral, i think y/n is used once, anything along these lines

word count; 1.7k

taglist; @phxntomsdusk, @pheliiaa (ask to be added)

you heard the front door creak open, and you sent your daughter down to greet him. you stayed in her room, however, overthinking.

he was home late again from the studio, writing and figuring out songs for the new album. he was working hard, but was starting to forget about who lay at home, waiting for him.

you and your daughter made good use of time during the day when he wasn’t there. making little animals out of playdoh, making dinner for wilbur when he got home, or making silly stories with each other. however, it didn’t feel right.

it didn’t feel like when wilbur had promised to spend every waking moment with you and your daughter. he had promised that if it came to it, he would give up lovejoy, give up streaming, give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you both. but now, he wasn’t keeping the promise fulfilled.

you were cut off by the urgent footsteps of your daughter, and a very teary-eyed girl standing in the doorway. scooping her up, you cradle her against your chest and swing her back and forth, trying to cheer her up.

eventually, you had to break her walls and ask what was wrong.

“what happened? why’re you upset?”

“daddy…”

she was cut off by a loud sob erupting from her throat. she was just so heartbroken

“what did daddy do, sweetheart? do i need to go talk to him?”

it was a great effort trying to get a reason out in between her sobs and shaky breaths, but eventually, she got something out.

“daddy- he- he walked past me. i said hello and tried to hug him, but- but he- he didn’t say hello back. i offered the cupcakes and his- his dinner to him, but he just walked into his room. he just ‘hmphed’ and… ignored me.”

you were heartbroken by this point. he had left his daughter in tears, and his lover heartbroken, but you couldn’t keep sulking with your daughter.

cut to now. you were standing in your shared room with wilbur, arguing back and forth. stupid arguments spewed from his mouth, and sounds of disbelief spewed from yours. you were frustrated from his pure ignorance and bullshit excuses.

“i’m tired! do you not see that! you have to realise i don’t have all the time in the world to be with the people i love most! for fucks sake, you give no one a break, do you!”

each word spilled from his mouth shattered your heart. he didn’t understand.

“all you are worried about is me! all you are worried about is our daughter! all you are worried about is the little stupid things that do not need to have your mind occupied!”

he shouted more and more silly things, clearly not realising what he was saying.

“but that’s what we’re meant to be worried abou-“

“i don’t care! you need to stop! you need to calm the fuck down, sit the fuck down, and stop worrying. i get it, our daughter is very much upset, but im here, and im tired!”

why was he worried about himself?

“you quite simply ignored our daughter as soon as you opened that door! she offered everything her little mind could think of! the cupcakes we made today, the dinner we made for you, she said hello and tried to hug you and you walked past her, groaned, and ignored her! you’ve left her in tears in her bedroom, absolutely heartbroken, because of you! are you fucking brain dead, wilbur!”

he wasn’t going to deny that your words hurt him more than his hurt you. he was only just realising how much he was away from you and his daughter. how much time was spent without the smiling faces of the little love bugs that he leaves at home each day. he didn’t know what had gotten into hi-

“what happened to ‘i’ll give up everything. i’ll give up lovejoy, streaming, ill give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you’! you aren’t here anymore! you’re either not at home or you’re off with the fairies! what happened to us! are we not important! what happened to your family, wilbur! you must be fucking stupid, you bastard!”

that was the last thing he needed before he fell onto the bed and let the floodgates open. he hadn’t realised how much time he had spent away from you both. he was always worried about the release date of the next ep, or always occupied by something else. it must have been months since he truly recognised the warm smile of his daughter or the honey-sweet laugh of you. he didn’t realise that he was slipping down the same rabbit hole every one he knew was falling down. he needed to be present.

you were both fuming. you were pissed and he was frustrated.

it took him a good five minutes to register that you were gone. that you hadn’t offered him a hug, or a kiss, or even something as simple as a head rub. you had just walked off…

he immediately stood up and almost ran to his daughters room. he looked everywhere. you weren’t in there. you weren’t in the guest room, or the lounge room, or the bathroom, or even the kitchen. you were literally gone.

he was about to break down again, lose himself to panic, until the soft, wet laughs from his daughter reached his ears.

he found you both outside, your daughter laying in the grass, you tickling her. she had dried tear tracks on her face and red puffy eyes, you with the same. god she looked like you-

until the day he dies, he will never believe that your daughter looks like him. she has your hair, your eyes, your nose, your mouth. she has your beauty.

he sat down next to you after your daughter saw him and her smile dropped. he’d done so wrong-

“can i apologi-“

“wilbur go inside.”

“darling, plea-“

“wilbur.”

he stood once again and stepped inside. he grabbed his dinner and sat at the kitchen island. he let his eyes roam over every photo of you, of your daughter, of you and your daughter, of him and your daughter, of all of you-

he ate his dinner before it went cold, the small bowl of mac n’ cheese and mashed potato swallowed down before he trudged back to your shared room. he laid down and fell asleep almost instantly. he didn’t want the guilt to set in and ruin anything else.

meanwhile, you and your daughter were still laughing and rolling around in the grass. just before wilbur came out wanting to apologise, you had just calmed her down from her sobs and cries. she had voiced so many small sentences that were so incomprehensible, the sentence that you did catch was so heart-wrenching, you started crying again.

“do you and daddy still love me?”

you sobbed and endured shaky breaths but you got through it just for her.

“yes, of course, pumpkin. please don’t ever think we don’t love you.”

a shower and fresh set of pyjamas later, your daughter was asleep in her room, and you were pacing the lounge room, figuring out what to do.

do you sleep on the couch? do you sleep with wilbur? do you sleep in your daughters room? you simply didn’t know.

settling for your shared bedroom, you make your way to where wilbur was fast asleep, small breaths moving the curls on his head and the slight twitch in his arm from where you were absent.

you crawl under the sheets behind him, ignoring the slight hiccup in his sleep, and falling asleep with your head buried in his sleep shirt. the faint scent of cologne and rain luring you into sleep.

you woke to wilbur’s calloused fingers running across your face and through your hair, and finding rest on your shoulders. his slight bed head and tired face making him even prettier than usual. he’ll always dent that he looks pretty in the mornings, claiming that he looks weird with his messy hair or that his breath stinks, but everything is always brushed off with a wide smile from you and a kiss placed under his eye.

but as soon as the warm feeling came, it was pulled away as soon as he realised you had woken up. he thought that you were still angry at him, that you would get angry at him for being so close to you after last night. but he was surprised when he felt you move and pull his hand back to you face.

he continued his small gestures across your face, staring at your sleepy face maybe just a little longer than he should be, considering how horrible of a person he was last night. how absolutely self-centred he was, how he ignored your daughte-

“stop worrying, wil. i’m not angry.”

“i’m so sorry, for last nigh-”

“sweet, don’t apologise right now.”

“just let me, please?”

when he was met with a small nod, he continued.

“i’m so so so sorry about last night. i don’t know what had gotten in to me that made me ignore the two most beautiful things i call mine, but i feel absolutely horrible. i should not have said anything that i said. i shouldn’t have been so self-centred, i shouldn’t have ignored our daughter, i shouldn’t have argued with you. i’m sorry. i really am. and im sorry for not sticking by that promise. i promise that you and our daughter are going to be my number one priority from here on out. i love you.”

he finished his apology with a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, and finally to your lips. he threaded his hands back into your hair, and pulled off his shirt and gave it to you to keep you warm.

soon, your little ball of happiness walked into the room, laughing at the sight of you in wilbur’s shirt and him tickling you. you all calmed down eventually, and let your daughter climb into bed with both of you.

wilbur immediately smothered her in tight hugs and ticklish kisses pressed against her face. he apologised to her for ignoring her and made sure that she believed him before he dropped the subject.

you all spent the entire day doing things together. making playdoh animals, with wilbur. making dinner, with wilbur. making up silly stories, with wilbur. he was included in everything you did.

[phxntomsdusk]

dad!bur doing the “gotcha nose” thing to his kid while you watch from the other side of the room, them laughing and getting along with each other.

“Gotcha” - Dadbur x GN!reader

summary: the ask!!

warnings: none <3

tags: @joviepog , @vibestillaxxx , @pheliiaa , @rqvii , @lillylvjy , @idontreallyexistyet , (ask to be added!)

word count: 199

You and Wilbur had been dating for only a few months, but his daughter absolutely adored you.

The small domestic moments between the two of them were adorable, especially when you were there to witness them.

You had so many pictures and videos of them, all saved away so you could enjoy them when you were away.

Tonight was another one of those domestic nights, the two of them sat on the floor, with you on the couch mostly watching T.V.

“Got your nose!” You looked over at Wilbur, hearing his daughter giggle loudly and frantically reached for his thumb.

You chuckled softly, moving closer so you were sitting behind them. You watched as his thumb pressed against her nose, a small explosion noise leaving his lips.

“There you go, love.” He kissed her nose, rubbing it lightly with his finger, before pressing a final boop. “All better. Now, you’re not noseless.”

At the sound of your laugh he slowly looked behind him, a shy smile on his lips, before you captured them in a short kiss. “Taking her nose again, huh?” He nodded proudly, holding her closely in his lap. “As always. I might take yours next.”

[hellothereimaloser]

Tallulah effect 💞😍 anyways she's too cute and I JUST GOT INTO QSMP AND JUANAFLIPPA AND TILIN ARE ALREADY DEAD HUH??? Pls the children are suffering in this smp

[wilbursprincess]

Can you give us a fict how all Bursona would react to finding out that we(reader) is autistic/has autism? pwease

How The Bursonas Would React To You Having Autism

Various Bursonas x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff :)

Hello anon! I genuinely love all these autism-related asks, because as an autistic girlie, it’s very therapeutic to write :)

Headcannons below cut!

Superstarbur: “That’s why you’re so passionate about your interests? That’s so cool! I didn’t realize my music was one of your special interests, but I’ve never been so honored.”

Revivebur: “Are you sensitive to loud noises? I know I’m fighting in a war and want you with me, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Simpbur: “You’re still so perfect to me, no matter how your brain works.”

Sirenbur: “I don’t know if we sirens have that. It sounds so interesting, though! Can you tell me more?”

Dadbur: “I’ll make sure Tallulah doesn’t overwhelm you. She’s a sweetheart, but y’know, kids! You know this doesn’t make me love you any less, right? Your brain just works a little differently. Doesn’t make you less lovable.”

Emobur: “Aww, emo culture is so accepting, you’ll be right at home. I can’t wait to find you some comfortable emo clothes!”

Vampirebur: “My biting doesn’t give you sensory issues, right? Ok, good. I love your blood, but your comfort is more important.”

Princebur: “I don’t really know what that means, is it a modern thing? It makes you sensitive to lights, sounds, and textures? You have really passionate interests and you’re socially awkward? It’s always existed, but we only recently had a name for it? That’s so cool! Can you teach me more about it?”

Incelbur: “Can you have a special interest in me? What do you mean, that’s not how it works?”

[mysticalsoot]

dadbur hc's to feel something

a/n; I am struggling to write full fledged fics rn so I let the brainrot win and I've now done...this. don't ask. also, thank you to lilly and elliot for decided what hc's I was meant to write, y'all are awesome and I love you both dearly<3

warnings; not much!! mentions of pregnancy, health issues (just general idea), pain mentions, this may worsen baby fever, sorry not my fault, blame wilbur.

reader is gn but in some cases afab!! (it's optional to read those parts, dw!)

masterlist (requests are open btw!)

—★—

- absolutely hated children as a teen and early 20-something

- babysat one baby of his friends and it was over for him

- absolutely adored that little baby and nearly cried when he had to leave them

- now as a husband, he wanted a kid so bad

- constantly gushing when he passes by baby shops or just melts when he sees a baby

- horrible baby fever. sorry to you.

- won't ever push the issue, but still mentions it and communicates clearly that he does want kids but he especially wants kids with you. heart melted

- if you don't want kids at the moment, he will absolutely respect that and will definitely do his best to shut up during bouts of baby fever

- I mean how could he not!! they're so adorable!!

- once you do actually have a kid, regardless of what way—he's doing anything and everything he can to prepare.

- he's buying parenting books; how to create healthy habits with your baby, how to raise a compassionate child, what to do and what not to do when becoming a parent

- he bought soo many baby outfits and onesies—all the way up to a year old. even grabbed some premie sizes, just in case.

- the nursery was set up almost immediately, a nature theme. he suggested a Minecraft theme but you shot that down immediately. there was pouting involved.

- but, you came to a compromise; dark green walls, light yellow accents, browns, etc. you even let him make Minecraft bees out of those wooden blocks and you thought they were the cutest thing ever. there were also stuffies of Minecraft animals scattered on shelves and on furniture. (please take Amazon away from this man, it's so dangerous).

- in the case of pregnancy; he was very insistent on being sure that both baby and you were in perfect health. and he never let you do more than he thought was appropriate.

- dishes? nope that's a father's job. going down the stairs? right by your side, watching your every step and yes, will make you hold his hand.

- to most others he was overbearing—but he was always like that and the whole pregnancy thing just enhanced it

- Wilbur is anxious and he never does well with medical or health things at all, his mind constantly running wild with various possibilities. it was scary for him.

- so yes, you'd get off dish nights and would be chaperoned down the stairs.

- but he also made sure you had your medicine on time, he documented every pain and complaint you had.

- he had already learnt the face you made when you were in any sort of pain—so he was right on top of it almost immediately.

- asking what hurt, what number of pain, how he could help, etc.

- he is an absolute sweetheart all of the time, but his softness was brought out by the entire experience.

- when the baby was born, or rather adopted—whichever way it happened—he cried. he cried a lot.

- he held the little one so gently, but so tightly in his arms

- he was insistent to not push gender roles onto the kiddos, but he did have two names picked out for a boy or a girl (or rather you picked them out and he agreed with them before you told him the reasoning)

- Willow for a girl and Spencer for a boy

- you didn't tell him until after the name was finalized that both options were after him

- he was so flustered and jokingly scolded you, but in reality, he loved it

- he felt so happy and so proud

- so joyful that you felt he was worthy enough to indirectly name a child after him, your child, his child.

- he was an absolute sweetie to the little one, and they took very quickly to him as well—immediately grasping onto his fingers as soon as they had the ability and cooing any time they saw him

- it melted his heart each and every time and it never stopped

- when the little one was older, they often took up the habit of grabbing at his hair or his glasses and sometimes his ears

- you found it to be the cutest thing ever and so did he he cried almost every time

- they absolutely adored their father, and if you didn't know better, you'd say they liked him better than you!

- when it came time to go back to work, to back to gigs and shows with Lovejoy

- Wilbur took off two weeks of work entirely beforehand, just to spend with you and the little one

- obviously he'd been on some sort of break since the baby was born/adopted/etc, but he still did things here and there, streamed a couple of times, went into the studio occasionally, etc

- but now that he was going to be physically gone a lot more, he knew he had to spend it wisely. and wisely did he spend it.

- most of the time was spent lying in bed with you on one side, him on the other and the baby lying on their back between you too.

- you'd both coo at them, tickle them, and talk to them

- oh did Wilbur love to sing to them, anything at all!

- he even came up with a few lullabies for them

- you'd watch from the door of the nursery as he'd rock them to sleep, humming a tune or singing the lyrics he came up just for them

- it killed you and totally didn't make you want another

- he was overall the sweetest father, and it became more evident when he had to leave for a while

- he'd call every morning, lunch and dinner as long as he didn't have anything

- and he would be so so sure that it was that time for you, it didn't matter what time it was for him as long as it was that time of day for you and his little baby

- he may have FaceTimed you and the baby during a few soundchecks, shh don't tell Dave!

- he would smile so big at the camera and wave at your little one

- he'd show them off to his band mates and they'd all coo at the little one, talking about how much alike they look like you and wilbur

- you personally thought they looked most like their father, his eyes, lips, ears. they might as well have been a spitting image of him! you looked at baby photos too

- Wilbur, on the other hand, begged to differ. he was very very insistent they looked just like you and nothing like him.

- it was most likely perception and bias that caused you both to think this way, but neither of you really cared all that much

- on days he couldn't call, for whatever reason, sometimes you'd play one of his old streams on the TV.

- the little one always responded to his voice and it seemed to calm them, usually into a sleep

- so just chatting streams and ycgma were go tos for sleepless nights lovejoys stuff kept them up and giggling

- when he was there for sleepless nights, he'd walk them around in his arms and talk about the most random things until they fell asleep

- he even offered to baby wear a lot more than most fathers did

- he just wanted to be close to them, and it always gave you a break, so he thought it'd be a double deal

- and it was! you'd get your nap, and so did the baby and Wilbur would just be gushing over his little one a few tears always shed

- he would sit with the baby on his leg when he was at his desk working, one arm snaked around them and his other on his mouse or keyboard

- at first, working was very cumbersome with the kiddo but he eventually found a work flow that worked and bouncing them on his knee helped keep things calm

- you were both hesitant to show your child on the internet and you didn't for a very long time, while people knew of them, it wasn't like photos were posted or they showed up on stream

- until, when the kiddo was about 2 or 3, they decided they missed their daddy and went running into the office when you weren't looking (I'll be using Willow as an example)

"Daddy!" Willow yelled or rather screamed out in that typical toddler way, running over to her dad's office chair.

She didn't know her father was live or working and she was much too young to understand it anyway—and the color drained from Wilbur's face when he realized. It was much too late now, chat was already spamming "Dadbur?!?" and "Baby Gold!!!"

Willow did her best to climb the side of her dad's chair before he sighed, a big smile on his face and he lifted her up by her armpits and placed her on his knee, first facing him so the camera didn't see.

"You wanna be on camera, sweetie?" He asked, realizing now how much trouble he may get in with you—but the giggle from his daughter and the smile on her face was so worth it, he didn't care.

"Yeah! Yeah!" And so he turned her around to face his PC and the camera.

"Wave to chat, lovebug!" He snaked his arm around her waist and waved with his own hand, his head dipped down to watch her. He had the softest, most loving smile on his face. He loved his little girl so so much, and he knew how it showed.

Willow waved and giggled, "Hi chat!!" and chat began spamming; "Baby Gold, hi!!" and "WILLOW!!"

It was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

And he desperately hoped he wouldn't get in too much trouble.

He spent the rest of the stream talking to chat, but mostly looking at his little girl as he conversed with her.

- it was over by then, and the little kiddo would make an appearance as much as you would allow

- and you were far from angry—you cried when you saw the clips—you were just frustrated he didn't go to you first yet you realized, he couldn't. your kid was much too like his father and much much too like you. stubborn and energetic.

- they only got more sassy and opinionated as they grew, and they most definitely became a spitting image of wilbur

- maybe #2 would look more like you

- oh, and don't let him wear plain tshirts unless you want more kids, that's all I'm saying

tags; @lillylvjy @lvrboysoot (if you want to be on a taglist thing, just send an ask and I'll add you!)

[deejayrockz]

i'm such a sucker for dadbur. like (a teeny tiny bit introverted) dadbur who doesn't make it his plan to talk or strangers, until his extremely extroverted daughter (he is a girl dad because i say so) goes and says hi to everybody she walks past. she even begs him to let her place her own order in a cafe they visit. her colouring at a cafe, all the sorry boys there, while she's sipping on a milkshake and they're all just eating before going to record. she's rambling on to tommy, or anyone who will listen, about her new colouring book and all the different animals, while wilbur just looks at her lovingly with a sweet little smile on his face. i'm so soft rn sorry i love dadbur with my WHOLE HEARTFJNENFS. i think about him DAILY.

[heartofwritiing]

Absent in the spring.

paring: q!wilbur x fem!reader (+ platonic q!philza x fem!reader)

summary: a small vacation to Phil’s beach house causes you to finally break down.

authors note: a follow-up to this fic but you don’t really have to read it. some more q!wilbur angst for you guys because I miss wilbur and tullulah content! also i made it so chayanne and tallulah talk in this lets just pretend the eggs are the human-dragon hybrids that are in fanart bc thats how i see them!

warnings: a little angsty sorry, hurt-comfort, happy end, not 100% following qsmp lore, unedited! please ignore any mistakes!

“how are you holding up?”

Phil’s voice pulls you out of your trance from fidgeting with the blades of grass next to your tucked legs.

You bring your gaze up from the lush green and watch on as Chayanne and Tallulah play tag a few feet away in the field behind Phil’s beach house.

The past month had been weary as you waited for your husband to return from his tour. Days stretched on though you kept going despite that dread in your chest of missing him.

Phil had noticed you seemed less like yourself as the month went on. You were sleeping less, and getting stressed. When he came over to help you take care of Tallulah yesterday he saw how defeated you looked while trying to keep a brave face for your daughter.

Being in an empty house wasn’t fun for anyone, especially when it was too dangerous to go outside on the server alone. So, Phil invited you out to escape that empty feeling, just for a while at least. A walk and boat ride later, you were now sat beside the man with his legs crisscrossed while he munched on avocado toast.

You had shrugged plainly to his question. Fine? Okay? you didn’t know…

Squeals and giggles erupted in your ears as you watched Tallulah finally tag a breathless Chayanne, who had gotten tired of running away from his sister and let her have a turn at the one being chased. Her little legs barely kept up with her taller older sibling as he quickly regained energy.

You couldnt help the smile that was brought upon your lips. Happy they were having such a good time together, being normal for once and not sheltered from the horrors of the server that was trying to harm them every moment. They needed this time, to be care free. To be kids.

You and Phil chuckled at their antics. Though It made your heart break thinking about Wilbur being absent. He wasn’t here to hear the sounds of his daughter's sweet giggles as she played blissfully in the tall grass. To see how she was getting along with everyone, making sure they were happy and cared for.

Wilbur hadn’t sent you a letter in a week. You understood he was busy with tour, you didn’t expect him to have much time to sit and write but your worst agitations were coming true.

The disappointment was settling in each time you would go to the mailbox by the door- you and lullah had spent a day painting and decorating to your liking, with splotches of colors and your names painted across in not-so-straight letters- it would be empty with no sign of even being open since the previous morning.

“I miss him,” you say suddenly to Phil, whose gaze shifts away from the kids to you. You keep your eyes locked on them, fearing that meeting his eyes would make you finally break down into the tears you were holding back for so long.

Phil brings his hand onto your shoulder, a simple symbol of comfort.

“Awe mate, I miss him too.” he said warmly. “he’ll be back soon, im sure of it.”

Swallowing the lump building in your throat, you were so glad you had Phil there for you in these moments. Tallulah had done a good part cheering you up but sometimes you needed a real talk.

"I thought I could do this on my own but-" you choke. "I need him, Phil. He's missed so much and I can't help but think he's gonna feel guilty for not being there for her, or for me."

You let yourself break down in-front of your father in-law finally letting go of everything you’d been holding onto the past month and a half.

Phil placed his hand on your back in support as you sobbed into your hands. The aching pain in your forehead with the slight headache building, the chest pangs told you this cry was long over due.

A tap on your shoulder brings your head out from your knees. You lift your eyes to see Chayanne standing over you, his hand stretched out with a simple white flower pinching between his little fingers. His eyes held nothing but innocence as he looked down on you solemnly. He did not understand why you were so distraught, nor did he care, he just wanted to aid you in any way that he could.

"Please don't cry, Tia Y/N," his voice was small but sympathetic, making your heart sink.

Phil looked so proud in that moment, to see his son come over to aid you with comfort made him perceive he was doing something right in raising a child for once.

Taking the flower from Chayanne, he immediately crouched down to give you a tight hug around your shoulders. Surprised but grateful, you began silently crying as another pair of little arms joined the embrace - you knew it was Tallulah. Finally, you allowed yourself to let go and broke down into tears, feeling their tight embrace.

You were so glad you had these kids. Though they didn’t understand your behavior entirely there was no judgement, only care.

“For what it's worth Y/N, you have us and we will always take care of you both.”

Of course, you knew that. Phil had always been there for you since you first met him. He took his role as a father to everyone very seriously.

“thank you for bringing us here Phil, we really needed this.” you breathe as the kids pulled away from you. Phil gives you a smile of understanding.

-

A few hours passed as you all sat on the dock, watching the last glimmer of daylight fade away over the water - casting a golden glow. Phil suggested a campfire to roast marshmallows. Tallulah and Chayanne were already running off excitedly to gather various sticks to help. Once the fire was going, you all sat together on the sand telling stories, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.

The hole in your heart was healing, and the weight on your chest lifted. You realized that even though life was rough and unpredictable, having a supportive family was what mattered, and you felt content and at peace.

You saw the others smiling, knowing the shared bond was enough.

That night you all slept at the beach house, and for the first time in a month, neither you nor Tallulah had a nightmare.

The journey the following day back to Phil’s was thankfully uneventful. Mostly just shenanigans between the two children. Collecting things like leaves for the scrapbook you and Tallulah were making for Wilbur, documenting all your adventures. Chayanne running ahead to deal with any monsters who dare cross your path.

Upon seeing the tiny house with a fenced yard, you all went your separate ways. As you opened the gate to the yard, the tall purple trees and the various flowers made you miss the tiny home.

Tallulah seemed happy to be back and automatically tried dragging you to see her turtles before you could close the gate. You asked her to be patient while you brought your bags inside.

Walking up to the front door, you heard a crash from inside and you froze. You instantly reached for your sword laying on your hip. Tallulah saw this as a warning and she quickly cowered behind your legs. Preparing for the worst, it could be anyone behind the door. Charlie looking for food, (since he was living near your house in a shed last you heard.) Quackity looking to start another fight about parenting. Or worse the code monster could’ve shown up again to take Tallulah from you.

You would die before that would happen.

Tallulah clung to your legs as you quietly unlocked the door and pushed it open. You gazed down at her and saw her worried eyes.

“If something happens I need you to teleport to abuelito and Chayannes to warn them okay?” You spoke to her firmly in hushed tones, being careful. Tallulah showed you the tiny purple stone for a quick getaway and indicated she understood.

The house was exactly as you left it, except for the suitcase and guitar bag resting against the sofa, which made you frown. Then realization settled in and a gasp escapes you.

Was he here?

Or was this another trick?

As you lowered your sword, you heard someone rustling down the ladder. The wood creaked with every step as the person in the yellow sweater came into view. With round glasses leaning down his nose, fluffy hair, and long limbs, you’d know him anywhere.

Wilbur felt relief wash over him as he stopped midway on the ladder and saw you staring at him in disbelief. as if he were a ghost. It pained him slightly. You couldn’t believe it.

Wilbur was back.

Tallulah peeked out from behind your legs and the tiny gasp she let out when she saw Wilbur. She ran into his arms and cried out;

"Papa!"

Wilbur grinned as his tearful daughter ran towards him. He scooped her up in a tight embrace as you watched, tears streaming down your own cheeks. He held her swinging back and forth gently trying to hush her cries. She was so happy to finally see him again. You had never seen such a wonderful sight of the two people you loved the most in this world.

“I missed you so much Tallulah!”

Wilbur rested his head on Tallulah’s and smiled sideways at you and reached out his arm. Without hesitation, you dropped your sword, which clanked loudly on the ground, and you rushed into his embrace.

You bury your face in his neck, holding onto his scent, his body, his everything. Never wanting to forget how he felt and sounded. Tears stream down your face, drenching his sweater, but you don't care. This time, they flow out of love and happiness, not frustration or sadness.

You all cried and held onto each other for dear life.

“I missed you so, so much my love,” he coos in your ear causing you to choke out a laugh. After missing his voice for months you were so elated to hear it again.

Wilbur sniffled as he squeezed you both tightly in his arms, never wanting to let go.

“I’m here my girls, and I am never gonna leave you again,” he whispers.

This was home.

End

[loversj0y]

Dadbur never grow up !!!

never grow up

event masterlist

pairing: dadbur x AFAB reader (gn pronouns)

tws: none!

notes: iin honor of speak now tv!!!!! ive never written dadbur before and ive also never written many parent dynamic type things? but this is way too fucking cute as a concept so &lt;;3

word count: 1.1k

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

When you had Tallulah, Wilbur sobbed the first time he held her. He had been so supportive throughout the pregnancy, and he was scared to death the entire time as well, worried that he wouldn’t be a good dad, or that something would happen to you.

So the first time he held your little girl in his arms, he sobbed out of love and happiness, kissing her head and whispering about how he’d never let anyone hurt her or break her heart. You could already tell he was going to be a great father. When she gently wrapped her hand around his finger, he suddenly felt like everything was going to be okay. The world had never seemed so quiet. 

He was incredibly attentive after she was born. He was constantly with her, and he took so many photos and videos of her as she grew up. He did have to go on tour eventually, but he would call every day, and he’d look at every photo and video every night to remember what he was coming back to.

When he came back from tour, she’d grown so much. 

“My little ‘Lulah,” he cooed, holding her close in his arms, “You need to stop growing, ‘Lulah. Before I know it, I’ll be beating up any person who tries to break your heart.”

You chuckled, leaning into him gently, “I wish she could stay this little forever.”

He smiled, gently kissing her head. She rested her head on his shoulder, babbling sleepily. She was about 15 months old now, and she was such a sweet child already. She had pieces of her father’s wild soul, but she carried more of his quieter traits.  

“Here,” he passed her over to you, “Let’s go tuck her in. I wanna play her a song.”

You held her and walked to her bedroom, while Wilbur followed with his guitar strapped along his back. As you set her down, he sat down next to her crib, playing a soft tune on his guitar for her as she fell asleep.

As she grew up, Tallulah continued to be the spitting image of her father. Same mess of curly brown hair, and same big brown eyes. She was sweet and kind, always making sure that her friends were doing okay and wanting to help them. However, the similarities with her father meant she definitely got his sense of teenage angst. She was fourteen, and Wilbur was driving her to the movies with you riding shotgun. She looked nervous.

“‘Lulah? You alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she sighed softly.

“You don’t sound fine,” Wilbur added.

She frowned lightly, “‘M just a bit nervous, dad. I’ll be fine.”

He nodded softly, “Remember your breathing exercises in case, okay?”

“Yes, dad, I know,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m not a child.”

You and Wilbur shared a look, slight amusement on both of your faces.

Wilbur pulled up to the front of the movie theater, and you spoke up, “Be safe, and text us when the movie is over, but wait inside for us, okay?”

“Yes, I will,” she got out of the car quickly, and for a moment, she looked like she was going to slam the door shut. 

“Bye, I love you.” She spoke softly.

“Bye, darling. We love you too,” Wilbur responded, and she closed the door softly. 

You took Wilbur’s hand as you watched her walk in and meet up with her friends. 

“You think she’ll be safe?”

“She’s your daughter, Wilbur. I don’t think we have to worry about if she’ll be safe, we should worry about if she’ll talk someone’s ear off.”

He laughed, kissing your hand gently, “God, I hate that she’s growing up. It feels like just yesterday she was just tiny.”

“I know,” you sighed softly, “I wish I could protect her from everything.”

“Me too,” he started to drive away, keeping his hand in yours, “We’ll be there for it all, though. We can’t protect her, but we can help her.”

“Is this your ploy to get her into music?”

“It’s not entirely a ploy,” you both laughed, swiftly heading back home.

“Dad, let me carry it, it’s fine,” Tallulah groaned, reaching for a box Wilbur was holding.

“I’ve got it, ‘Lulah. Don’t worry about a thing,” he smiled, carrying the box up to her apartment. Her first apartment. Neither of you were coping well with the thought, but she was only a two and a half hour drive away. You were so incredibly proud of her. She did follow in her father’s footsteps, but she learned every instrument she could find. Her hard work paid off, granting her a full-ride music scholarship. She also decided to minor in English as well, and it was weird to see your daughter so adult, even if she was just on the verge of 19. 

You’d taken great care to helping her move in, making sure the place felt like home. Mostly by sneaking in little notes from you and Wilbur into every crevice you could find, to be discovered later. It was so odd, to see her in her own place now. Wilbur was setting up her internet while she made sure all of her instruments were in their proper place (she always had a thing about making sure everything had its own specific place). Before you left, you placed a scrapbook next to her bed, filled with some of the photos of her, you, and Wilbur.

Leaving her and driving back home was messy. You and Wilbur both cried, and you caught a glimpse of her tearing up as well before you started on back home. It was so tough to leave her, even if you’d been watching her grow up and preparing for this for years. It was just hard to see her go off. The car ride home was quiet as well, his hand in yours as you wiped at teary eyes. 

Late that night, you and Wilbur were lying in bed, just holding each other close. “She seemed so happy to leave. Do you think she’ll miss us?” You asked softly.

“I think so.” “Really? I just remember how happy I was to finally be away from my parents.” “Well, your parents weren’t exactly the kindest.” He noted.

“I know, but I mean, it’s the freedom and feeling grown up, right? I’m worried we’ll lose her for a bit.” “I don’t-” his reply was cut off by his phone going off. He grabbed it, smiling softly. “I don’t think we’ll have anything to worry about,” he turned the phone towards you, showing off Tallulah’s contact proudly. 

He answered the call, and you both spoke to her as she got settled into bed for her first night alone, and you could hear just how much she missed you both in her voice.

[bubvy]

Have some dadbur angst in these trying times

[ax-y10]

Fresh Starts

In which: Wilbur moves in next door, and readers child does something a little different

A/n: this is a random dadbur drabble/blurb based on this prompt list (prompt five). I'm going to add this to the masterlist in a while (after I wake up and get out of bed).

Chapter info: Single parent reader, single parent Wilbur, he has a daughter and reader has a daughter (I can only write girls 😭), mentions of parents leaving, doubt, let me know if I said "mum" in it and I'll change it.

Pronouns: Mention of they/them, mainly you/yours

Masterlist:

You doubted yourself. Simple as that. Before you had your daughter, you didn't know if you could ever do what's best for her. But the minute you saw her wonderful face and beautiful smile, you knew you were going to do your best, even if it was the bare minimum.

He doubted himself. How was he going to look after the carbon-copy of himself? After his girlfriend left him, he didn't know how he was going to help the young one. But everytime he saw his daughters face, he knew he was going to do something.

When your daughter grew up and gained some traction in the world, she was unstoppable. "Come on! I'm going to be late for school!" She would yell each morning at exactly 7:45 in the morning. "Yes, sweets," You'd say, finishing tying her shoes up, and off she ran down the stairs of the apartment complex.

As soon as his daughter was grown up and exploring the world, he was never going to be able to stop her. "Dad! Dad! Come on! You're going to be late for the studio!" She'd remind him of his daily task as they were in a rush, and tried to calm his nerves. "We're almost there. You can see the boys soon," He'd finish, pulling up out the front of the studio.

The front desk lady, or your bestfriend, had told you there was someone moving in next door. 'Next door?' You'd thought. 'But that's where my daughter loves to play?' You'd ramble again. "But next door? What's she going to do?" You questioned, motioning to your daughter. "Oh, she'll be fine. The man has a daughter of his own, and he'll completely understand if he sees a little girl wandering in through his door," And that was the first impression Wilbur would get of you.

His daughter was grabbing at his pants leg, desperately wanting to hide and get into their room, but he had to talk to the front desk lady before doing so, so he slung her over his hip and held her. "Is there anything else I should know?" He queried, knowing the need of his daughter's was growing. "One more thing. Your little one is getting a bit needy so I'll make it quick. There is an absolutely lovely person who has the flat on your right. They also have a daughter around the age of yours," He nodded, thanked her, and off they went. And the first thing he saw as he was unpacking was a small girl wandering through his door.

"Sweets? Where are you?" You said as you walked around your flat. You hadn't told her she couldn't go next door, as to not hurt her feelings, but your heart dropped when you heard a familiar giggle from the room over. Your daughter was with the man who'd never seen your face before. And that in itself scared you so much. Moving to the room over and slowly knocking on the door, a kind smile welcomed you.

"Darling? Where's your parents?" He'd asked your daughter, her smile dropping when she saw him, for more than one reason. A tall man with funny glasses, a messed up collar tucked underneath a grey sweater, and a beanie pulled over his mess of brown, curly hair. The giggle that spilled from her lips couldn't be anything other than joy as her fingers laced through his hair. He heard rushed footsteps, and a knock on the door soon after. Pulling your daughter up onto his hips, he told his own daughter, wherever she was, that he'd be back soon. He opened the door, and greeted your shorter figure with a warm, welcoming smile.

You stood at the doorway, introduced yourself as 'the girl he was holding's parent', all the while your daughter made grabby hands at you, whining when she didn't get held by you. "Oh sorry, probably should have given her back. I'm Wilbur, by the way," He introduced, handing your daughter back to you, and welcoming you through the door. You sat down at his half put together table and got comfortable.

"Uhm, hello, I'm the girl you're holding's parent, if that makes any sense," you introduced yourself. He noticed the girl's desperate grabby hands, and held her out to you, "Oh sorry, probably should have given her back. I'm Wilbur, by the way," He held out his hand behind his back and welcomed you through, and watched intently as you found a seat at his half built table.

Before you both knew it, you were both a daily occurrence in each other's lives. Whether it was passing each other in the hall, bumping into each other when dropping your daughter's off at school, having dinner at his flat, and watching him at studio while he recorded songs. You both knew each other more than you'd known any other person you'd met, and you both saw no end of the friendship, and even hoped it moved last a friendship.

You offered to help drop off his daughter when he had to go to studio early that morning, now that your daughter and his had gotten along, and he happily obliged, a weight lifted off his shoulders.

Finally having someone to be by his side and offering to help was such a blessing in his eyes. He absolutely adored your daughter and loved the way your eyes sparkled when she did something, whether it was big or small.

How long till you got to see him tonight? One hour. An hour until he was picking you up, driving you to the restaurant across Brighton and dropping your daughter's off at his studio. God, and this is like every rom-com you've ever watched. The man arrives early, you're not ready, he watches in disbelief at how stunning you are... But that isn't how it plays out. Even though he does arrive early, he waits patiently in the living room with the two girls, happily chatting along with them, until you walk out of your room. It's simple, a plain black shirt with white patterning scattered across it, a pair of jeans stuffed in the back of your closet, some random converse and your hair done up in plaits.

He was stressed. He said casual dress for the date, and here he was stressing over wearing a sweater and sweatpants. After running his hands over his sweater, through his hair, and along every smooth surface, he was finally ready to pick you up. Arriving earlier than planned, he knocked on the door and your daughter ran up to him, before running inside with his own. "Y/n, I'm here. Come out when you're ready," he called out, hearing your approval from the few rooms away. When you walked out, however, he had to register for a second what he was looking at. Yes, it was simple, and yes, probably not your best outfit, but you looked good in everything you wore.

Arriving home after the date, hearing Phil interacting with your children, Wilbur stopped you just before you walked inside. "I need to tell you something," He spoke.

"I need to tell you something," he spoke, awaiting your answer. "What's wrong?" God, he loved how you cared for him so much. "I want to go on another date with you. It's fine if you don't want to, and I don't mind, but I just need to do one more thing-" He finished his sentence, leaving forward, flicking his eyes to your lips for a split second, and he was filled with joy the minute your lips met his.

A little knock on the door, and a child running into your legs, you immediately pulled away. "Why were you kissing Dad?" Your little one asked, and your gaze flew to him to see what he thought.

His face was red as he heard the word 'Dad'. He'd never thought of himself as a dad. Could have never dreamed of it. But here he was, falling more in love with you and your child by the second. "Do y- you, uh, do you want me to be your d- dad?" He asked your daughter, only for clarification so he knew she meant it.

And off the little one went, standing on his feet and clinging to his pant leg "Yes please. They seem very happy when their with you, and I see the way you look at them. You love them, and I think they love you," and off he went asking you.

---

This was so shit and rushed but anywho... I'm starting a taglist so either dm me or request to be added to it.

[peacheskoo]

Woooooo another fic inspired drawing!!! This is one from “As long as it may take, I shall wait” by FractalFiction over at ao3!!

Also finally trying out environment stuff again and it’s going swell so that’s nice! :D

[wilbursprincess]

October 9- Dadbur’s New Neighbor

Dadbur x Charlotte

Warnings: Voice kink, praise kink, size kink (if you squint), so much dirty talk, dominant Dadbur, bratty Charlotte, some mentions of alcohol/drinking, Belle being very out of her element

Y’all, I have a confession to make. This is my favorite fic from the entirety of Fictober. I dipped my toes into character creating for Charlotte, and I hope you guys love her as much as I do!

Fic below cut!

“I got you, Daddy!” Wilbur’s daughter, Tallulah, says triumphantly, her gap-toothed smile melting any annoyance he might’ve had for loosing the third consecutive round of Candyland. “I got you!”

Wilbur chuckles. “Well done, sweetheart. Another game? We’ve got time for one more before it’s your bedtime.”

Tallulah shakes her head, her favorite red beanie almost slipping off her head. “I don’t wanna go to bed!” She protests in vain. “It’s not even dark out!”

Sighing, Wilbur pulls his daughter’s hat back on her head. “Why don’t I make us some cocoa, and we can go catch lightning bugs?”

All Tallulah’s annoyance at bedtime vanishes. “Yes!” She gasps. “Can we, can we?”

“Only if you don’t complain about going to bed afterwards.” Wilbur laughs, kissing his daughter on the forehead and standing up from the living room floor. “C’mon, ‘Lulah. Do you want whipped cream or marshmallows on yours?”

The 7 year old girl smiles, taking her dad’s hand as they walk to the kitchen. “Both?”

“Only for my precious little girl.”

Wilbur has plenty of time to think as his daughter runs around on the grass of their backyard. It was barely a year since Tallulah’s mum had walked out on them, and he was glad to see it hadn’t affected her too much. Wilbur’s mum took her for a few days each week now that she was finished with school for the summer, which was just as much fun for her as it was a break for him. Being a single dad was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but he loved little Tallulah so fiercely, it made it all worth it.

“Daddy! I got one!” Wilbur’s pulled from his musings by Tallulah jumping onto his lap, a glowing bug crawling around on her palm.

Wilbur grins, wrapping an arm around his daughter. “That’s my clever girl. You want to let him go now?”

“Do I have to?” She asks, looking down at the light loosely held in her hand with a quivering lip. “Can we keep him? At least for tonight?”

His heart aches at her childhood carelessness. Even the little things are the biggest deal, since your world is so small.

“Don’t you want him to get home safely to his family?” Wilbur gently retorts, prying Tallulah’s fingers from around the tiny bug. “You wouldn’t want his dad to worry.”

She considers it for a moment, before letting him go. “Bye, Mr. Lightning bug!” She calls into the darkening sky. “Have fun with your family!”

“Time for bed, darling,” Wilbur says, both of them watching the lightning bug fly away. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”

Tallulah yawns, snuggling closer into her dad. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

“I was thinking we could go to the park and then bake some cookies,” he replies, carefully scooping up his weary daughter and their empty mugs. “What do you think?”

Her eyes are closed, little arms wrapped tightly around Wilbur’s neck. She nods sleepily, and he can’t help but smile to himself as he carries her to bed.

The next afternoon, Wilbur’s just lifting Tallulah up so she can pull the cookies out of the oven when they hear what sounds like beeping from outside.

“What’s that, Daddy?” Tallulah asks, wide-eyed with curiosity. “What’s making that noise?”

Turning off the oven, Wilbur’s curiosity is piqued. “I’m not sure, darling. Let’s check it out.”

When he peers out the front window, he’s surprised to see a massive truck reversing into the neighbor’s driveway, red block letters spelling out Moving & Co on the side.

“That’s a big truck!” Tallulah observes. “What’s it for?”

Two men jump out of the truck and start to haul boxes out of the back. When Wilbur squints, he can see them labeled in colorful sharpie- ‘living room’, ‘office’, and ‘kitchen’.

“We’re getting a new neighbor, ‘Lulah!” Wilbur tells his daughter, who gasps exctedly.

The house next door to Wilbur and Tallulah’s was a tiny little one-bedroom, and had seen a series of young couples and college students over the years, but hadn’t been lived in for at least a year now.

As the men continue to unload the truck, a baby blue Volkswagen Beetle pulls up to the curb outside the house. The driver door opens, and Wilbur sees a woman step out. Short, curvy, and ginger, she bumps the door shut with her hip, purse swinging from the crook of her arm.

“Is she the neighbor?” Tallulah says, sounding a little disappointed. “I wanted someone with a kid my age. I want someone to play with.”

“Shh,” Wilbur replies, a little harsher than he intended; he’s more focused on his new neighbor.

He watches her walk up the driveway, long hair swinging with every step. She’s dressed simply- t-shirt, jeans, and a cardigan, looking a little travel-weary, but Wilbur finds her beautiful.

“Can we go say hi?” Tallulah begs, tugging on Wilbur’s sleeve. “Please?”

Wilbur starts to say no, but realises he’s just as curious about this woman as his daughter.

“Of course, sweetheart. Why don’t we plate up a few of those cookies for her?”

“Hi!” Tallulah yells across the yard as she sprints towards their new neighbor, and Wilbur’s very glad he insisted on taking the cookies.

The woman turns around, and her face lights up at the sight of them. “Hi, sweetie!” She says warmly. “To who do I owe the pleasure?”

Tallulah stands in front of her, spinning around to point at Wilbur, crossing the lawn at a normal pace. “My daddy.”

“Your daddy, hm?” She says, flicking her eyes up and down Wilbur’s body so fast, he can’t tell if he imagined it. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you both. I’m Charlotte.”

“I’m Wilbur,” Wilbur replies, offering her a handshake and the plate of cookies. “And this is my daughter Tallulah. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Tallulah is still gazing in awe at Charlotte. “I made those cookies with my daddy,” she says proudly.

Charlotte smiles fondly down at the little girl. “That’s so sweet of you both,” she says, bending down to take the hug Tallulah is offering.

“Where are you from?” Wilbur asks his new neighbor once Tallulah sits at her feet.

“London,” Charlotte replies, sitting next to Tallulah and motioning for Wilbur to do the same. “I wanted to get out of the city, and it was too bloody expensive for me, living alone. I’m enjoying the silence already.”

Wilbur laughs. “I lived in London for awhile, too,” he says. “I agree. Too bloody expensive.”

Tallulah nudges Charlotte. “Try the cookies!”

She reaches for a cookie and breaks it in half, offering half to Tallulah before taking a massive bite. “This is delicious,” she mumbles around her mouthful. “I’m starving.”

“Do you want any lunch?” Wilbur offers as Charlotte reaches for another cookie. “I was just about to heat up some leftovers, there’s plenty for you too.”

“Really?” Charlotte stops mid-chew. “You’d do that?”

Wilbur smiles at her. “Of course.”

Tallulah runs ahead of Wilbur and Charlotte as they step through the front door, leaving the two new aquantances in an awkward silence.

“I love this wallpaper,” Charlotte offers. “Your house is really nice.”

Wilbur tries to keep his face neutral. “Thank you. Tallulah’s mum redid the whole place when we moved in.”

Charlotte’s silent, nibbling her bottom lip and clearly embarrassed. “Sorry,” she says finally. “Thought wallpaper was a safe conversation starter.”

Her little joke lightens the air considerably, and Wilbur can feel affection blooming in his chest for his neighbor already. “You’re fine,” he laughs, leading her to the kitchen. “She left us just over a year ago. Tallulah took it pretty hard, but it’s nice to see her smile again.”

“She’s such a sweetheart,” Charlotte grins. “What’s on the menu?”

Pulling open the fridge with a flourish, Wilbur proudly holds up a glass Tupperware container. “Leftover spaghetti with about 3.5 meatballs. Tallulah ate most of them last night. Hope you don’t mind.”

Laughing, Charlotte shakes her head, auburn waves flying around her face. “She’s so cute, I can’t complain. Thanks again for lunch, Wilbur.”

“Call me Will,” he replies, almost without thinking. “And maybe don’t thank me until after you try my cooking. I’m not the most adept in the kitchen.

Charlotte snorts. “Why would I complain about a free lunch?”

Wilbur slyly observes Charlotte as she taps her foot against the leg of the chair, seemingly lost in her old world. The red hair he had observed when she stepped out of the car isn’t actually red like he thought- it’s a shiny auburn, almost brunette now she’s out of the sun. Her eyes are a fierce, sparkling sapphire; the deep blue of the Brighton sea.

“Are you going to ask me about myself, or just try and read my mind while you stare at me?” Charlotte’s sweet voice makes Wilbur jump, and she giggles at his shock. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

Wilbur turns around to open the fridge to hide his flushed, embarrassed face. “So, Charlotte, tell me about yourself,” he deadpans. “Better?”

When he looks back over, his new neighbor is grinning; a genuine, beaming smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “There we go,” she laughs. “My full name is Charlotte Hughes, I was born and raised in London, I like to crochet, read, and garden in my free time, and my favorite color is blue. I think I covered most of the questions, no?”

“Not a bad summary,” Wilbur agrees. “My turn. My full name is Wilbur Soot, I was also born and raised in London, I like to play the guitar and write music in my free time, and my favorite color is teal.”

The microwave beeps- lunch is ready. But Wilbur’s not focused on the lunch, he’s focused on the enigma of a woman sitting at his kitchen table.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Tallulah’s voice snaps Wilbur to his senses as she runs into the kitchen, clutching a piece of crayon-scribbled paper. “I drew us!”

Charlotte smiles at the little girl. “Aww, you drew you and your daddy! Can I see?”

Tallulah excitedly shows her the drawing, and Charlotte looks amused, shooting a look at Wilbur, who’s scooping spaghetti onto three plates. “Why don’t you show him?”

“Daddy, look!” Wilbur’s daughter says, pressing the paper into his hand. He glances down at it and does a double take. It’s a drawing of the two of them- and Charlotte.

“You clever girl,” Wilbur says, forcing his face to hide the shock. “You drew Daddy’s new friend!”

Charlotte shoots a look at Wilbur. “Your new friend, hm? What an honor.”

A few days have passed since Wilbur met Charlotte, and he can’t stop thinking about her. He focuses on keeping Tallulah fed, entertained, and happy, but it’s when he’s alone that he lets his mind wander next door.

On the third day after Charlotte moved in, Wilbur heads across their shared lawn with a nice bottle of wine, a massive bouquet of flowers, and a few bags of crisps. A welcome gift, he’ll call it, blaming himself for not knowing her move-in date and having it ready then.

Charlotte opens the door right away after he knocks, almost like she was waiting for him. “Will!” She greets him warmly, beckoning him inside. “What’s all this?”

“A welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift, several of them,” he says, trying to sound casual as he slips off his shoes. “Tallulah’s at my mum’s, so I thought I’d keep you company for a few hours.”

She grins. “Aww, how thoughtful. Just let me get the dirt off my hands, I was just out in the garden.”

Charlotte’s wearing a simple blue sundress today, auburn waves pulled back with a crochet bandana that looks handmade. While she washes her hands, Wilbur glances around the little house. There’s not much more than a bunch of boxes, the only furniture he sees is a slightly tired couch, a worn coffee table, and Tallulah’s drawing from the day they met taped to the wall.

“I haven’t done much unpacking,” Charlotte says apologetically, like she read his mind. “Actually, since you’re here, I could use a hand bringing some boxes upstairs?”

Wilbur smiles. “No problem. Any chance to show off my muscles,” he deadpans, flexing his bicep and stifling a giggle. Charlotte blushes, holding a hand over her mouth as she laughs. “Where are they?”

Charlotte points him to a stack of boxes next to the staircase, and motions for him to grab the top box. Wilbur’s arms ache immediately, the box heavier than expected, but feigns indifference and starts to walk up the stairs.

“Oh, Will,” she gasps, taking half the box’s weight in her hands, fingers just brushing Wilbur’s. “Those are my mystery novels, and they’re super heavy! Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” he lies, some strange feeling swirling in his stomach at the feeling of Charlotte’s fingers on his. “I didn’t pique you as the type to like mystery novels!”

She giggles. “Oh, there’s plenty for you to still learn about me, Will.” She clearly means it lightly, but his brain immediately spirals down filthy alleys. “My bedroom’s straight ahead, by the way, you can set it down there.”

Charlotte’s bedroom doesn’t have more than a mattress on the floor, sheets piled in a heap and pillow askew.

“You really haven’t done any unpacking, have you?” Wilbur jokes, setting down the box.

She shakes her head. “I got a new bedframe and furniture from Ikea… but I haven’t felt like putting it together yet. Not on top of everything I’ve already had to do.”

Wilbur pauses. “Well, since I’m here…”

An hour later, they’re halfway through a bottle of wine and devoured a bag of crisps, Wilbur’s neglected toolbox between them and a half-finished bed frame on the floor.

“Thanks again for the help, Will,” Charlotte murmurs, kneeling on the floor holding a screwdriver. Wilbur’s right next to her, holding the box of screws. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“No problem, Char.” The nickname slips from Wilbur’s lips without him thinking, and he instantly bites his tongue.

“Did you just call me Char?” Charlotte fixes him with her beautiful blue eyes, a gorgeous flush rising through her freckled cheeks.

Wilbur pauses. “Depends on if you like being called that.”

She nods. “I do.”

Her tongue licks at her bottom lip, then she nibbles on it, a tiny thing that drives Wilbur mad.

If he didn’t know before, he knew now. He knew just how badly he wanted her, knew that they could get as far as he wanted in the two hours before he had to pick up his daughter, right on the mattress he was practically sitting on. He wonders if she’s wearing panties under that adorable little sundress.

Then he catches himself.

“Didn’t quite think you were the type to be called Lottie,” he says, forcing himself to keep his mind on the task at hand.

If Charlotte is disappointed, she doesn’t show it. “Not one bit,” she laughs. “Primary school is one thing, being in my mid-20s is another.”

She’s sitting with her legs tucked under her, dress spread out over her upper thighs, breasts straining against a scoop neckline. Tiny bow earrings match the rose gold wireframes of her glasses, and when she leans down to fasten a leg to the frame, a chunk of hair falls in her face. Wilbur resists the urge to push it back, tuck it behind her ear, and kiss her senseless.

“Is that a record player?” Wilbur asks, hoping to change the subject. “I didn’t know you were into music.”

Charlotte follows his gaze. “It is!” She says happily. “I’ll show you my record collection. It was the first thing I unpacked.”

She plonks a heavy box in Wilbur’s lap, leaving him to go through it while she gets back to work on the bed frame. evermore and folklore by Taylor Swift; Hello Sadness and Romance Is Boring by Los Campesinos!; AM and Favorite Worst Nightmare by the Arctic Monkeys; Dreaming Out Loud by One Republic; Divide, Multiply, and Subtract by Ed Sheeran, and many others, both familiar and unfamiliar to Wilbur.

“This is an amazing collection,” Wilbur says after awhile, and Charlotte nods in agreement. “I didn’t strike you as the type to like the Arctic Monkeys or Los Camp.”

“You can put one on, if you like?” She replies. “We need a break from building.”

After a few moments, the record player crackles to life, the intro to By Your Hand starting to play. Charlotte smiles when she recognises it.

“This is my favorite song from Los Camp,” she says, standing up and offering her hand to Wilbur. “Will you dance with me?”

He couldn’t say no, even if he was trying to keep his thoughts PG, or at least PG-13.

Wilbur takes her hand in his, her tiny hand obscured by his as he spins her around, dress raising dangerously high. Charlotte takes his other hand, trying in vain to spin him around, too.

“You’re too tall,” she pouts, making him laugh as he dips her back over his arm, dramatically pointing her leg in the air like a ballerina. “Can you tell I have no clue what I’m doing?”

“That makes two of us, love,” Wilbur says, turning his face away as they start a clumsy tango so she can’t see how red his face is.

“You’re a lifesaver, Char,” Wilbur says, rushing into his jacket and shoes, giving little Tallulah a peck on the forehead. “Sorry for the last minute babysitting. Call me if you need anything, my number’s on the fridge.”

“Don’t worry about it, Will,” she says, flicking her hand as if to brush away the apology. “Go look after your mum, and Tallulah and I can have a girl’s night.”

Tallulah blinks up at her dad, tears pooling in the corners of her dark eyes. “Granny’s going to be ok, right?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Wilbur promises. “She’s just had a bit of a fall, and needs me to pick her up from A&E and help her settle in back home. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

Charlotte hands Wilbur his car keys. “Don’t worry about us, Will,” she murmurs, squeezing his hand. “You worry about looking after your mum, and I’ll take care of your little angel for you.”

When Wilbur glances over his shoulder after shutting the door, he sees his daughter clinging to Charlotte’s leg, who appears to be wiping her tears and trying to make her laugh. She waves, Tallulah following suit, and Wilbur immediately feels the wave of love he’s been trying to ignore for his sweet little neighbor flooding back.

Typical of the British medical system, it takes much longer for Wilbur to get his mum discharged and settled at home, meaning Charlotte calls him so he can tell Tallulah goodnight.

“Daddy and Granny love you so much, darling,” Wilbur promises his daughter through the phone. “You’ll see me in the morning.”

Wilbur: thank you so so so much again

Charlotte: it’s no issue! tallulah’s a sweetheart.

Charlotte: she’s fast asleep btw

Wilbur: seriously i cannot thank you enough

Wilbur: make yourself at home, you’re welcome to anything in the fridge and you can stay in my room for the night if you want

Charlotte: really?

Wilbur: it’s the least i can do

When he does finally get home, it’s 4am, and the house is silent. Wilbur first checks on Tallulah, who’s still asleep, and then walks into his room, where Charlotte is dead asleep on his bed. Wake me when you’re home, a note on the nightstand reads, so you can get some sleep.

“Char,” he whispers, gently shaking her shoulder. “Char. Wake up.”

She groans, rolling from her stomach to her back and blinking at him in the dim light. “How’s your mum?”

“Better,” Wilbur sighs. “How’s ‘Lulah?”

“Been asleep since around 9pm,” Charlotte replies, yawning. “She misses you.”

“You’re welcome to the couch if you’re still half asleep,” Wilbur whispers, but there’s no reply. “Char? You awake?”

A snore is his only reply.

“Daddy!” Tallulah’s voice wakes Wilbur up, but the tiny body leaping directly onto his stomach makes him even more awake. “You’re home! Why’s Charlotte still here?”

“Hm?” Wilbur manages to reply through the blur of sleep, looking over with a jolt to see Charlotte’s on the other side of the bed.

“Because your daddy woke me up when he got home, and he kindly let me stay over when he saw how tired I was,” Charlotte murmurs. “How’d you sleep, sweetie?”

Tallulah leaps over onto Charlotte. “Great! What about you guys?”

Wilbur groans and buries his face in the pillow.

“Your daddy is really sleepy, baby,” Charlotte gently explains. “He was up all night looking after your Gran. Why don’t I make you some breakfast and we let him sleep a bit more?”

He tries to murmur his thanks to her, but he falls asleep again before the words leave his mouth.

“Well, look who’s finally awake,” laughs Charlotte, hands on her hips as Wilbur walks down the stairs several hours later. “Feeling better now?”

“She made me pancakes,” Tallulah announces to nobody in particular, running up to Wilbur and smearing her sticky, maple syrup face all over his pajama pants.

Charlotte’s sipping from Wilbur’s favorite mug, hair lazily twisted into a knot on top of her head. She’s still in the clothes she came over in last night, baby blue sweatpants and a white tshirt, but looks fresh as a daisy.

“Did she, now?” Wilbur smiles, scooping up his daughter and kissing her on the forehead. “You two had fun yesterday?”

Tallulah nods. “She did my hair, and we colored, and we made muffins, and we played outside, and we-”

“I made you coffee, Will,” Charlotte interrupts, handing him a steaming mug.

Wilbur blinks.

“Your daddy’s still tired, Tallulah,” Charlotte giggles. “Why don’t you go play in your room for awhile and let him wake up?”

When Tallulah’s gone, she takes him by the arm and sits him on the sofa.

“You’re really good with Tallulah,” Wilbur manages after he takes several gulps of the coffee. “You planning on a family of your own someday?”

To his surprise, Charlotte shakes her head. “Nah. I could see myself either marrying someone with older kids, or maybe adopting. They’re only bearable when they’re not vaguely sentient potatoes.”

Wilbur snorts, almost spilling the coffee. “You’re not wrong. I love Tallulah, but man, I don’t miss the baby phase.”

“Her mum was still in the picture then?” Charlotte asks, somewhat awkwardly, and he nods. “I still can’t imagine being a single parent. You’re a great dad.”

Wilbur sips his coffee to hide the flush in his face. “You make great coffee, Char,” he says, changing the subject. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Charlotte’s mouth drops open, and he realises with a lurch what he just said. “Shit, you knew what I meant,” Wilbur adds quickly, and wonders if he’s imagining the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

“I mean, you did technically wake up next to me this morning, so I’ll allow it,” she teases after a moment of silence.

“At least I don’t snore,” Wilbur retorts, and Charlotte giggles, undoing her topknot and leaning towards him with a gleam in her eyes. “I didn’t hear you snore either.”

She winks. “You’re lucky I didn’t roll right into your arms. I’m a pretty restless sleeper.”

“I’d just have to hold you tight if you did, so you wouldn’t roll onto the floor!”

“With those strong arms of yours?” Charlotte pokes his bicep. “You’d crush me!”

Wilbur shoots her a sly grin. “Wanna bet?” He asks, barely hesitating before scooping her into his arms. She’s tiny, not even coming up to his shoulder when standing, but feels even tinier when he holds her.

“Oof,” she giggles, wriggling around, trying in vain to get free. “You’re too strong!”

They’re laughing too hard to notice Tallulah coming downstairs until she’s standing in front of them. “What are you guys doing?” She asks curiously. “Are you two wrestling?”

“Yes, we are, sweetheart,” Wilbur says awkwardly, all too aware of what that euphemism usually stands for, and Charlotte snorts.

“Yay!” She yells, jumping onto the two of them. “I want Auntie Charlotte to stay forever!”

Wilbur glances at his daughter sitting happily in Charlotte’s lap.

Me too.

Wilbur and Charlotte’s platonic-yet-flirty friendship continues. She’s over for dinner more often than not, and Wilbur spends the afternoons Tallulah’s out of the house at Charlotte’s, helping her unpack and build her new furniture.

She’s mostly platonic around Wilbur and his daughter, but there’s always a comment or two that sticks in his head when he’s in bed at night.

“Your mum was a very lucky person, sweetheart,” she’d said to Tallulah one night, stroking the little girl’s hair while Wilbur cooked dinner for the three of them. “Your daddy is a wonderful man.”

Wilbur had to turn away so Charlotte didn’t see him blushing a fierce red.

Another time, likely fueled by the bottle of wine they were sharing, she got bolder. “Are you seeing anyone right now?” She asked, eyes looking anywhere but his face.

“Uh, why do you ask?” He replied curiously. “I’m not, no. Not really looking to while Tallulah’s so young, but I miss getting laid.”

He immediately regretted the last line, but Charlotte burst out laughing, spilling her wine down her shirt. “Just making conversation, Will, don’t fret,” she said, patting his knee affectionately. “I get what you mean though. God, I haven’t had good dick in ages.”

Wilbur had gone home after that, desperately rutting into his hand as he pictured Charlotte’s bright eyes, the wine seeping across her ample bosom, and her delicate little voice repeating God, I haven’t had good dick in ages.

He was ashamed afterwards, roughly cleaning himself up with a tissue and managing to miss the bin when he goes to throw it out. Before he can catch himself, he wonders if she ever did the same thing while thinking about him.

After Wilbur drops Tallulah off at his mum’s house a few days later, he heads over to Charlotte’s, as per usual. He doesn’t even have to knock anymore- just opens the door to see a smiling Charlotte uncorking the usual bottle of wine.

“Will!” She greets him, handing him a glass. “How’s your mum doing?”

“A lot better,” he reports happily. “I think Tallulah’s helping her out.”

The two of them head into the living room, where Charlotte’s got her TV set up. It’s midway through a Star Wars movie.

“Ooh, Return of the Jedi, nice,” Wilbur says, sitting next to her and grabbing a handful of crisps. “My favorite.”

“Mine too!” Charlotte gasps. “No way.”

Wilbur laughs. “Who’s your favorite? Mine’s Han.”

“Leia. She’s a badass who gets to date the hottest guy,” she replies, a flush rising in her freckled cheeks. “I see why Han’s your favorite.”

He snorts into his wine. “And why’s that?”

“Han doesn’t open himself up to affection or love, but when he does, he gets the princess.” Charlotte rests her chin on his shoulder. “Sound familiar?”

Wilbur shakes his head, puzzled. “Should it?”

“Christ, you’re as thick as it gets,” she sighs, taking his face in her dainty little hands and kissing him.

It takes him a second to react, but when he does, he kisses her hungrily, scooping her into his lap in the desperation to get her closer. Charlotte’s hands stroke down his chest over his shirt, Wilbur’s finger hooked into the belt loop of her jeans, tugging her closer.

“Char, my goodness,” he murmurs against her lips.

“Mmm, that sounds so nice when you say it,” Charlotte sighs happily.

Wilbur pulls back slightly, a smirk playing on her face. “Someone has a voice kink.”

“So what if I do?” She answers playfully. “Like I told you, there’s plenty more for you to still learn about me.”

He starts to undo the buttondown shirt tucked into Charlotte’s jeans, exposing her lacy bralette just as she unbuckles his belt.

“Is this a good time to tell you I have a crush on you?” Wilbur teases, tossing the buttondown onto the floor along with his belt.

Charlotte laughs, reaching for his shirt and practically tearing it off. “Is this a good time to tell you I love giving head?”

“Oh, really?” Wilbur grins as she slides onto the floor and unbuttons his fly. “You love giving head?”

She kneels in front of him, biting her lip and nodding.

Wilbur pulls his jeans down to his knees, smirking. “Well, then, prove it to me.”

Charlotte winks, reaching into his boxers and pulling his cock out. Her eyes widen.

“I know, it’s big,” he tells her, giving himself a few long, slow strokes, precum dripping down his fingers. “You can take it.”

She bends her head down, slowly circling her tongue around the very tip. Wilbur groans, pressing his head against the back of the sofa. The edge of Charlotte’s tongue traces down the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, then lazily back up, tiny fireworks of pleasure exploding in the very pit of his stomach.

“You look so good down there, Char,” Wilbur praises, tilting her chin up so she’s forced to look at him, resting a thumb glistening with precum on her lower lip. Without hesitation, she licks it off, swiping her tongue around her lips. “You like how I taste, hm?”

“So good,” Charlotte whispers, pressing a kiss onto the crest of each hip bone, then licking down his happy trail.

Wilbur’s hips jump up as she finally takes his length into her soft, warm mouth, roughly grabbing a fistful of her hair to guide her head up and down. One of her dainty little hands is stroking him where her mouth can’t reach, the other tracing circles on his thigh.

He tries to at least somewhat keep his composure, but Charlotte knows exactly what she’s doing, and as the pleasure gets more intense, he can’t keep it up much longer.

“Oh- fuck, Char, baby,” he manages to gasp out, toes curling, eyes rolled back in his head. He’s making an effort not to thrust down her throat and choke her, legs shaking from both the effort and pleasure.

Wilbur’s a shaking, whining, pathetic little mess, and Charlotte can tell. He knows she can tell. The way her sapphire gaze fixes him as she bobs her head, the smirk escaping even with his cock stuffed in her mouth.

It takes every single last ounce of strength in his body to not give into the climax, the fury of it building up, hot and explosive, shivers running through his entire body. Just before he spills deep down Charlotte’s throat, he pulls her off. Every single cell in his body is screaming from the ruined orgasm, and he can’t stop himself from thrusting his hips into the air, desperately searching for more stimulation.

“Don’t…” Wilbur gasps in a breath. “Don’t want this to be over yet.”

Charlotte looks at him slyly. “Wanna head upstairs? I have condoms in my nightstand”

He’s standing up before the sentence fully leaves her mouth, taking Charlotte’s hand and letting her lead him up the staircase and into her bed.

Feeling her underneath him, bare skin on bare skin, is better than Wilbur could’ve ever imagined. He wages a brief, successful war on the clasp of her bra, dropping it on the floor and drinking in the sight of her.

Kissing a line down her chest, Wilbur tweaks one of her nipples with his teeth before circling it with his tongue. His hand snakes into her jeans, effortlessly undoing the fly and creeping into her soaked panties.

“Mmm, you’re drenched, love,” he murmurs, somewhat muffled by her tit in his mouth. “You’re going to feel like heaven when I’m finally inside you.”

Charlotte moans softly, weakly grabbing his wrist as his nimble fingers find her clit. “Fuck, keep talking,” she pleads.

“You’ve been driving me crazy since we met,” Wilbur whispers into her ear, biting her earlobe and leaving a hickey on her neck. Her nails dig into Wilbur’s back as he slips one finger inside her, then another. “Want you to be nice and ready for my cock, darling. Want to be able to feel you come undone around me, moaning my name.”

Charlotte’s hips shift, grinding down as she tries to ride his fingers. “No, no, Char,” he gently chides. “The only thing you should be riding is my cock. This is just the warm-up.”

He pulls his head back, slipping his fingers out of her and licking them clean. “I wanna see you. I almost came in my pants when I took your bra off, and couldn’t resist seeing the rest,” he says, tugging off the rest of her clothes

Charlottes’s even better than he imagined under her clothes, a pile of freckled heart shapes and soft curves. Wilbur kisses her collar bone, each freckle on her chest, her belly button and each hip bone, hands nestled into the curve of her waist.

As he takes his boxers and jeans off, he thinks there’s been enough foreplay for the time being, and she clearly agrees. “Hang on,” she breathes, rolling over to dig in her nightstand and pulling out a condom. “May I?”

“One second,” Wilbur says, gentle pushing her hand away. “Before we do this, Char… no matter where this night takes our friendship, my daughter will always come first.”

Charlotte nods. “I’d expect nothing less from you, Will,” she murmurs, kissing his nose.

“Thank you,” he replies, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. “I knew you’d understand. However… now that that’s out of the way-”

She smiles, tearing open the foil packet with her teeth and rolling it onto his cock with an expert hand.

Wilbur lines himself up, and the first thrust makes them both gasp. “Fuck, you’re so big,” Charlotte whines, arching her back under him. Even through the latex, he can tell she’s absolutely soaking wet and stuffed to the brim with his cock.

She’s letting out a tiny moan each time he thrusts into her, one of Wilbur’s massive hands supporting her lower back and the other caressing the nape of her neck, kissing her so softly compared to how he’s fucking her.

Charlotte’s nails leave tiny half-moon dents along his bare back, her body practically trembling from the overwhelming pleasure. Wilbur’s sure she’d collapse onto the mattress if he wasn’t holding her up.

Her face is otherworldly, plump pink lips in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes rolled so far back, Wilbur can barely see the blue he loves so much. He moves his hand from the nape of Charlotte’s neck, slipping it between their joined bodies and stroking her clit in time with his thursts.

“Will!” She practically screams out, sinking her teeth into his lower lip as her entire body tightens. He doesn’t change up a single movement as he pushes her through a shattering orgasm, in awe of her perfect body in the aftermath of what just hit her.

“Did you-” Charlotte starts to ask, chest heaving, sweat dripping.

Wilbur shakes his head, dropping onto the mattress next to her. “No, baby. I’ve got enough left in me to give you another. Ride me?”

Her face lights up like she’s been waiting her whole life for him to ask that very question. Before he can react, Charlotte’s hovering just above his achingly hard cock, hands resting on his chest for leverage.

Wilbur’s hands paw at her hips, and he has to hold his breath as she sinks herself down, willing himself to hold off for at least a few more minutes.

“Fu-” he groans. “Char, holy shit.”

She somehow looks even better from this angle. Perfect tits bouncing against her rosy, freckled skin as she adjusts to his cock, auburn waves hanging over her flushed face, curvy hips starting to move as she rides him.

“Just like that, baby,” Wilbur murmurs, starting to thrust up into her once she finds her pace. “Just like that.”

She’s riding him like her life depends on it, so wet that she’s soaked her sheets and Wilbur’s lower stomach. He can practically feel her throbbing with sheer, desperate lust.

Their two joined bodies rock in unison, so smoothly it’s hard to believe they were strangers not even a month before. They’re both slick with sweat, flushed with arousal; bodies littered with nail marks, nibbles, hickeys, and other blatant signs of sex. It’s a good thing summers in England are dreary- turtlenecks will be their friends for the next few days.

“Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, Char, there, right there, just like that, fucking hell,” Wilbur moans, all inhibitions out the window as he teeters on the edge of an explosive climax.

“Oh, my God,” Charlotte groans, entire body trembling as he pushes her into her second high. Now that he’s satisfied his girl, not once, but twice, Wilbur can let go. And let go he does- riding out possibly the best orgasm of his life, pressed against Charlotte’s tits as he fills up the condom, grasping at her body for leverage against the aftershocks.

Laying back against Charlotte’s pillow, he dimly realises she’s climbed off him, leaning up to wipe his sweaty brow with a tender hand.

“You alright?” She asks tentatively, stroking a finger down his cheek.

He manages to nod.

“Holy shit,” Wilbur murmurs. “Char, that was… something else.”

She kisses him softly, hands caressing the hickies she’s left all over his neck and chest. Somehow, even after all she’s put it through, his cock twitches. She really was that incredible.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” he murmurs, and Charlotte laughs softly, coming to lay against him. Her smile-dimpled cheek is pressed against his stubble, one leg swung lazily over his waist. “I could spend the rest of the night with you, just like this.”

“Don’t you have to pick up Tallulah?”

“She’s staying at my mum’s tonight. How do you feel about a sleepover?”

The morning after goes exactly as expected. Wilbur and Charlotte wake up together as a pile of tangled limbs, and when she makes a sly comment about how good morning wood feels, he can’t help but bend her over and pound into her until she’s almost sobbing from pleasure.

And the days after? Nothing between them changes… in front of Tallulah, of course. Tallulah is overjoyed at her Auntie Charlotte being around more often, and Wilbur’s mum is loving the extra time with her granddaughter when Wilbur and Charlotte want some alone time. The sex is mindblowing, their friendship is close. Not bad for someone who just happened to move in next door.

[rraz0rblade-r0mance]

hi lorelai! if you are feeling up to it, maybe give me some dadbur headcanons. the dadbur thoughts are consuming me. 🤭🤭 (also lorelai is a gorgeous name 🫶🫶)

hi!! thank you so much 🫶🫶🫶 i am ALWAYS up to writing dadbur

dadbur headcanons

cw: none

wilbur is totally a girl dad btw

—

-when the baby comes home for the first time, he insists on taking care of her while you rest, which means he holds her the whole time

-says stuff like "i'm so happy you're here" to her, tears in his eyes everytime

-(when the baby's older) definitely becomes a daddy’s girl. wherever he goes, she goes as well. always clinging onto his leg or sweater.

-she definitely comes to lovejoy rehearsals, loves screaming the lyrics with them, even if she doesn’t understand what they mean

-a bedtime routine of wilbur tucking her into bed, reading her a bedtime story, and maybe singing her a song or two (he knows she’ll most likely wake up from a nightmare and walk to his room, beg to sleep with him anyway, but it’s never a problem for him)

-oh and i think he writes his own stories to be read to her while he’s on tour

i’m sorry this is so short; i can definitely write more if you request it, but it’s been in my drafts for a few days now and i don’t wanna keep you waiting :)

[haunted-headset]

CHRISTMAS DATE OF YOUR CHOICE WITH WILBUR!! ice skating? decorating the christmas tree? festive movie night? going to christmas markets together? LITERALLY ANYTHING i just need some festivity and wilburness in my mind

🎄Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree

🎄

a/n: YESSSSSSSS!!! idk why but I imagined this with Dadbur & idk why, but I feel like he would name his child Arabella because of that one Arctic Monkeys song

word count: 638

tags: @zuuriell @somebody-v @vibestillaxxx @ax-y10 @joviepog@themonsterunderurmom @ogelizasoot @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza@artistphantom @ace-call-me-what-youd-like @lexx-the-gay-rubber-ducky @finleyforevermore @poraphia @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @mysticalsoot(let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

contains: Dadbur, fluff, a crazy child, Y/N is referred to as Mommy/Mama, mention of a pet dying, & a functional family (omg imagine)

You were woken up by the sound of tiny feet running into your room & the feeling of a small child lying on top of you.

"Mommy! It's Decembew 1st!" Arabella said with her five-year-old lisp. "We's gotta decowate da Cwimas twee!" A soft yawn was heard from Wilbur.

"What time is it, lovely?" Wilbur said, turning over to face you two.

"Uh..." Arabella looked at the clock on your nightstand & pointed. "Dat time!"

Wilbur laughed & lifted her off of you. "Somebody's excited for Christmas."

"Santa's gonna come to ouw house, Daddy!" Arabella exclaimed with a wide smile, her tangled brunette curls swaying slightly when she spoke. "& we gotta make suwe ouw house wooks da best for Santa or else he won't give me presents!"

"That's not true, princess," Wilbur said. "Santa's still going to give you presents because you're the best kiddo in the world. He's also going to give you presents because you're the most...ticklish kiddo in the world!" He started to tickle Arabella & the room was filled with her screams & giggles.

You chuckled & began to get up. "C'mon, precious. We'll go decorate the tree & then go out for breakfast. How does that sound?" Arabella squealed & jumped into your arms, which nearly caused you to topple over. You adjusted her a bit in your arms & began to walk with Wilbur into the living room where the bare Christmas tree stands. Wilbur grabbed the ornament box next to the tree & opened it.

Arabella gasped. "Mama, we has such pwetty ornaments!"

"You say that every year, lovely," you smiled, kissing her forehead. "Do you wanna help Mama put the tinsel & the lights on the tree!" She nodded fervently at this.

For the rest of the morning, you three put the ornaments, tinsel, & lights on the tree, having to pause when Arabella or Wilbur got tangled up in the lights & tinsel, or whenever Arabella snuck away to Wilbur's office to try & play his guitar, or whenever Wilbur would get distracted with telling Arabella the story of some of the ornaments; one of the larger ornaments was something Wilbur had given you when you two were still friends in high school when your first boyfriend dumped you. Another one of the ornaments was something you had bought for Wilbur when his dog died in middle school & he wouldn't stop crying for a week. Another one Wilbur got for you a week after you had given birth to Arabella. Another one you & Wilbur made for Arabella on her first birthday. The only way you could get Wilbur to stop rambling & help with the tree was by kissing his hairline, & only then would he say, "& the next one is about...youknowwhatnevermindletshelpmamawiththetreeinstead." It made you laugh every time. & when it was time to put the angel on the tree, Wilbur put Arabella on his shoulder so she could place the angel on top.

"It wooks so pwetty, Daddy!" Arabella clapped. "Santa's gonna wove it!"

"He sure will, honey," Wilbur replied, wrapping an arm around your waist & kissing your hairline, which got an "ewww" from Arabella & a laugh from the two of you. Wilbur let Arabella get down so she could go wait in her room for you to help her get dressed.

"Tired?" he chuckled when you yawn & leans into him.

"Extremely," you replied. He kissed your hairline & you felt a tingly, warm feeling inside.

"We'll sleep in tomorrow," he said, looking at the tree with pride. "Our princess is a weirdly good decorator."

You laughed. "Maybe she'll get one of those reality shows where she renovates people's houses when she's older." You two laughed again & he leaned down to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Merry Christmas, love."

[deejayrockz]

PAIRING — dad!wilbur + daughter

SUMMARY — wilburs 3 year old gets ill, and it feels like the end of the world

NOTES — angst technically?? lots of fluff, cuddles, etc. girl dad wilbur. OC named Adelia (from my book, except aged down to 3, and his daughter instead of niece !!) mentions of illness, maybe vomiting, and headaches

EXTRA — sorry dadbur has been in my head for days now, i needed to get some drabbles out 🌷🌷

as adelia woke up, next to wilbur (as she got scared in the middle of the night and asked to cuddle with him) her head had started banging.

"daddy," her voice croaked , as she shook the brunette awake. his eyes stirred open, soon warming as he saw the scared look on your smaller girl.

"what's wrong darling?" he whispered, morning voice slightly deeper and croakier, causing him to slightly clear his throat and sit up.

"head hurts," she whines, laying down, head resting on his lap. he felt the burning hot of her forehead, as he ran a hand through her curls. his face had been twisted with worry, as he looked over to the alarm clock, seeing it was 7am. It had just officially become autumn, meaning it was still dark outside.

"let's go get you some juice, maybe it'll help you feel better," he tapped her shoulder softly, as she whined and sat up.

"daddy carry me?" adelia asked, lifting her arms up, as she stood on the edge of the bed. he smiled fondly, picking her up, and almost sobbing when he felt her head tuck into his neck.

"stay awake for me, dede," he muttered against her curls, kissing her head softly, and lightly rocking her on his hip as they walked to the kitchen. the usually talkative girl, was very quiet while being sat on the kitchen counter, watching her beloved dad pour her a small cup of orange juice.

"take a sip of this for me," he whispered lovingly, keeping his voice low as to not harm the girls head more than it already is. she took slow, almost unnoticeable sips, before placing it back on the counter, glass still almost full.

"do you want to have a little bit more for me?" will questioned, walking up to her and stroking her knee softly.

"no thank you daddy," she whispered, eyes closing softly, as her skin had grown pale, showing off the rosy cheeks that had bloomed earlier that morning.

"okay, we'll bring it with us back to bed," he kissed her cheek, picking her up, and resting her on his hip again.

"we watch movie?" adelia asked, laying her head on his shoulder, holding the sippy cup of juice in her hand.

"we can watch a movie, yeah," he smiled, walking back to his room, and placing her softly on his bed, "what movie do you want to watch?"

"hmm," she thought for a minute, making herself comfortable and watching him turn on the tv, "matilda,"

he wordlessly put on the matilda film, before laying next to her, and placing the tv remote on the bedside table.

"cuddle?" adelia said, her voice still slightly scratchy sounding, as she looked up at will, who was slightly sat against the headboard.

"of course, darling," he smiled softly, feeling the urge to cry as she sat herself on his lap, and cuddled into his chest. his heart had warmed, feeling his special girl cuddled up into his pyjama jumper, wrapping his arms around her.

he was always surprised when she had still wanted to cuddle, as most parents say it's just a stage they grow out of at around a year old, however adelia was always ready for cuddles, and so was he.

"daddy, will i feel better soon?" she asked, lifting her head up slightly, now resting on his shoulder/neck bone.

"yes darling, we'll help you get better, don't worry," he kissed her forehead, feeling it now slightly cooled down. the vitamin C had seemed to work, despite the small amount she had drank.

they two had shared small goodnights and i love yous, as they drifted back to sleep, adelia tucked under wills arm.

he has always believed true love was found in romance films on the tv, he never expected it to be found in the little 3 year old angel wrapped in his arms. he had never truly felt at home, until he got a text telling him he was a father of a baby girl. at first, he panicked, but the minute he saw her dirty blonde curls, he knew she would be the most important thing in his life.

despite her being ill, he tugged her almost impossibly closer, knowing the sore throat he'd get once he woke up would be completely worth it, as long as he got to hold her.

[the-phantom-author]

this is self indulgent but girl dad wilbur helping his kid with their first panic attack. he’d hate that they have the same “worries” as him but helping them off the ledge :(

Girl dad Wilbur who daughter is just so incredibly stressed out with school. She knows you and Wil are both so incredibly proud of her academic accomplishments, but she's put herself in one to many high level classes, and is afraid to bring up the fact she's struggling with either you or Wil.

When she gets home from school one afternoon she goes to her room and doesn't really leave, which isn't abnormal she is 14, sometimes sh has off days and she's aloud to deal with them how she needs to, even if that's by herself.

That being said, Wil has never been one to sleep through the night without trouble, especially if one of his girls are having a bad day. So as he's walking around the house trying to tire himself out, he decides to check in on his daughter, to make sure she's sleeping peacefully.

He's greeted by a much different sight then he expected when he looks in her room. His little girl, curled up in his bed, shaking and struggling to catch her breath. As he approaches her, he is softly calling her name, trying to see if she can respond to him. All he gets in response are little whimpers of "help" and "can't breathe". He quicky realizes that it's a panic attack, and instantly goes through every piece of advice he's given you when you've had to help him through his own panic attacks.

He has one of her hands on his chest, above his heart, while he's telling her "Breathe." "Sweetheart I need you to match my breathing." "Deep breaths, you are doing so well" "You're okay, we're in your room. You're safe." Once he does have her calmed down he's not moving, he spends the rest of the night with her, being consumed by his own guilt.

When you wake up the next morning, it's not odd for Wilbur to not be in bed, sometimes when he wakes up he can't go back to sleep. But it is odd for no one to wake you before 7am. Usually all three of you get ready in the morning so you eat breakfast together, so you set off to find where you husband is, and why your house is so quiet.

When you approach you're daughters room you see them, Wil sitting in the floor leaning against the wall, and your daughter in the depths of sleep knocked out using her dad as a pillow. As you walk in Wil gives you a look, one that tells you that something went down last night.

As he details how he "fucked her up by giving her his problems and worries" in a wobbly voice, on the break of panic attack himself, you start telling how he absolutely did not. The two of you decide that she's staying home that day, and you figure out a way to approach what happened. Will starts giving her tips, by telling her the way he stops them when by himself and explains more of the physiology behind why it happens.