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peachhcs · 10 months ago

Note

a fic or blurb of ryan’s farewell party for will pls?!

charm bracelet

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy heads to boston after ryan begs her to fly out for will’s farewell party in hopes of reconciling things between the ex-couple (writing grace and samy’s dynamic was actually so fun because i’ve never wrote them before)

2.1k words

i got so carried away with this it wasn’t gonna be this long but it turned into a whole fic. the ending of this is a bit interpret how you want, but in my mind it’s them not completely ignoring one another, but they aren’t gonna talk it out for a long while. p.s. the baby grace and will photo i found is actually adorable!

au masterlist

"please come?" ryan begged over the phone while samy sat at her desk pondering the offer he'd been trying to convince her of for the last twenty minutes. "if not for will, then for us? don't know when we'll see you if you aren't coming out to boston as often anymore," the brunette continued making samy feel even worse.

"hey, i'll still come to boston. i didn't just go for will, you know," the girl rolled her eyes slightly.

"then come out to see us. you don't even have to see will if you don't want. there will be enough people that you'll probably be able to avoid him," ryan kept persisting because 1. he knew samy still cared deep down and 2. she was their friends too and he knew the guys really wanted to see her again before school started back up.

"you're so annoying," she teased a bit making them both laugh. "i'll think about it, okay? i might have to be back at school, but i'll see."

"promise?"

"i promise," samy nodded and the two ended the call. when her phone found its place back on her desk, samy knew damn well already that she was completely free that weekend. she just didn't know if she could stomach potentially seeing will.

—

two weeks later, samy and her mom were on a plane to boston for the party. ellen was still very close to colleen and after being there for will his entire life, she wasn't missing this despite everything that's happened.

gabe and ryan drove into the city the day before to catch up with samy themselves. will didn't have much idea that the hughes were in town and probably wouldn't find out until tomorrow at the party.

"hey, hughesy," ryan greeted with a large smile. his arms quickly slid around the girl's frame in a tight hug before letting gabe take his turn.

"hi, it's good to see you guys again," samy grinned widely. she really did miss seeing them. it'd been since worlds that they were all together like this.

"i'm glad you came out. i didn't think you would," gabe admitted as the three sat at a small table waiting for the waiter to take their orders.

"i didn't think i was coming either, but i wanted to see you guys before school started and we'd get too caught up in everything," the brunette explained which made them smile.

"i can't believe school's gonna start again. feels like it just ended," gabe chuckled.

"don't remind me," ryan groaned earning more laughs from the other two.

the three quickly filled each other in on the things they missed. it felt like old times when everyone was in michigan together spending weekends sitting on a floor going back and forth with stupid little games. all of that felt like such simpler times because no feelings were involved. at least not any known feelings.

things settled a bit as samy and the boys ate their sandwiches they ordered and the topic shifted to one samy knew was gonna come up eventually.

"i don't know if i've said this to you, but will's a real idiot," gabe said quietly.

samy's jaw clenched a bit, "yeah, he is."

"have you..talked to him at all?" ryan wondered and the girl instantly shook her head.

"no and i don't really want to. i don't even know what i'd say to him or what he could say that would make me forgive him. he threw it all away and that really fucking hurts," samy admitted truthfully.

"right and you have every right to not wanna talk to him. he was an asshole for not trying to talk things out with you," gabe nodded in agreement.

"can i just say one thing though? i'm no way trying to defend anything that he said or did, but you gotta remember how will is with this kind of stuff sometimes. he says the wrong things when he's thinking something else. you guys were best friends above everything. you know him better than any of us probably. you really want to leave things on this note?" ryan said softly.

samy's gaze flicked away from the boys knowing ryan did have a small point in the back of her mind, but she wasn't ready to admit that. things were confusing and hard.

being back in boston had this pull on her. everything she's ever known came from michigan and boston—will being one of those things. he hurt her so badly, yet a really, really small part of her wanted to reach out.

"it doesn't matter anymore, ry. he meant what he said and even if he didn't wanna say it, he still did. i was basically worthless to him," samy couldn't though. her head overruled her heart knowing she needed to stand her ground because there was nothing more she could say to him.

—

will's entire house was packed with people. room to room, wall to wall, lawn to lawn—there were people everywhere. ryan wasn't wrong that samy could lose herself pretty easily into the crowd.

she hung outside a lot because out there she could escape anywhere if she saw will whereas inside could end up trapping her if she wasn't careful. she happily caught up with drew, aram, vote, and cutter who greeted her with bright smiles.

the idea of even being in the same proximity as will sent goosebumps down the girl's arms. her eyes were constantly flicking around as if she would see him turn some corner and make eye contact.

somehow, she managed to find a corner where it wasn't too crowded by the lawn chairs. the youngest hughes sat out on them just people watching when familiar locks of blonde hair started coming her way. for a moment, samy tensed, wondering how grace took the news about their breakup because she hadn't exactly talked to the oldest smith sibling since it happened.

"hey, samy," the older girl greeted warmly.

"hi, gracie," samy smiled, relaxing a bit when she saw the girl's smile.

"i'm happy to see you. it's been awhile," grace found a seat beside her for a moment while the brunette nodded a bit.

"yeah, it has," her gaze flicked away because they both knew why it had been awhile since they saw one another. grace didn't make a huge appearance at the family vacation a few months ago since she was busy apartment hunting and even then, her and samy didn't talk much because they never got to catch one another at the right time.

"this might be a stupid question, but..how are you?" the older girl wondered gently.

"i'm..i'm okay. hanging in there, i guess," samy nodded, biting the inside of her cheek.

"i'm sorry i haven't talked to you since..i don't want you to think i hate you or anything. last month was super busy and you looked busy and i didn't know if it was too soon to ask about everything.." grace trailed off a bit when she realized she was rambling. samy quickly shook her head.

"don't worry about it. i was worried you hated me," a small laugh sounded from the soccer players lips.

"oh my god no! i don't. i promise. i actually..am mad at will for how all of this happened. i..i was shocked when you left and i found will out there..i'm sorry. i..i wish i had an answer for my brother's reason, but i don't. i..i don't know why he broke up with you," grace frowned deeply.

"i left in such a mess, i'm sorry again. everything happened way too fast," samy shook her head.

"have you talked to him since.."

"ry and gabe asked me that yesterday and i said no. i mean, i have nothing to say to him, so why would i, you know?" the brunette shrugged.

"right, of course. mom told him this morning you and your mom were coming. that went over..interesting to say the least," grace tapped her finger against her cup.

"i've been avoiding him, i guess. i'm not sure i can really stomach seeing him, but..i don't know. felt like i owed it to him to be here at least? and the other guys too. don't know when i'll see them again. this whole thing feels like it screwed up everything with everyone," samy laughed dryly.

"i get it. i'm glad you did come. i saw your mom earlier, it was good to see her. even if will won't admit it, i know he's glad you're at least here too. one last hurrah before we move him out to california," grace said.

samy thought back to all the times will would talk about his move to cali whenever it happened. he'd always say how she'd fly out with him to help him decorate his apartment when the time came. plus, all the times will told her how he couldn't wait until they could live together so long distance would be over, yet he'd wait forever for her.

god, what happened to that will?

"you're thinking," the blonde pointed out, snapping samy back into reality.

while will knew her insanely well, so did grace. the two girls did grow up alongside one another even though there was a three year age gap. grace was the older sister samy never had as a little girl and she still was, so of course the older girl knew when samy was lost in thought.

"yeah, sorry," the younger girl shook her head.

"penny for your thoughts?" the expression made samy smile because will said the same thing.

"just how will always talked about me being there with him when he moved to california and how he couldn't wait until i was done with school to move out there with him. i wonder where that will went who was so ambitious about us and saying he would wait forever for me," the younger girl smiled sadly.

a little sigh escaped grace's lips hearing samy sound so heartbroken still. "i wish i knew what was running through his mind. i didn't even know he was considering it. it shocked the hell out of all of us. he's in there still somewhere, i know it and i know you don't wanna hear that, but i gotta believe it. i have never seen my brother like someone as much as he likes you, it confuses me how he just threw it all away like that," the blonde shook her head.

"you and me both," samy frowned this time.

"i think you just gotta give it time because damn, all of us believed you guys were it for each other. you'll find your way back, i think you two just need some space. will needs to settle in california and play a few games with the sharks and then i'm sure he'll come around. i don't believe this is the true end for you guys," grace said firmly.

the youngest hughes wanted to believe her so badly, but she just couldn't.

"maybe. it's hard to say though," samy said instead of being a complete pessimist about it.

the party ended a few hours later with samy successfully avoiding any contact with will. she didn't even see him which was surprising because she knew he was making his rounds.

her and her mom drove back to the hotel in silence just unwinding from the long day and talking to everyone they saw.

samy was brushing her teeth when her mom stuck her head in. the younger girl raised her eyebrow in confusion.

"i have a gift from you from someone i spoke to today," ellen said vaguely. the brunette raised her eyebrow.

"who?"

mrs. hughes didn't say anything while she just placed the envelope into samy's hand. the girl saw her name scribbled across the top in handwriting that she quickly recognized as will's. samy's gaze snapped to her mom's.

"i told him he's gonna do great in san jose," ellen said because she knew her daughter knew who that envelope was from.

the older woman slipped out of the bathroom leaving samy with the gift in her hand. she should've thrown it away, but curiosity got the better of her and she carefully ripped it open.

there wasn't any note or card, only a small charm of a shark.

her eyes danced to the charm bracelet sitting on her wrist that held her most precious charms.

will knew everything about her charm bracelet because he supplied most of the charms on the chain.

she remembered seeing the shark charm in some little gift shop with will many months ago, quickly mumbling something about how adorable it was and would fit the aesthetic for will's soon to be san jose career.

she had no idea will went back to buy it for her.

samy even wondered how long he's had it for.

without a word, samy clipped it onto the chain, adding one more pretty charm to her bracelet and a tiny smile painted her lips.

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watermelonlovershigh · 1 year ago

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The Potty Incident /blurb/

AN: i thought this was a cute concept and wrote it out. if you think anything about this is inappropriate, grow up. this is just an example of a fatherly duty and nothing more. i really hope you enjoy. thank you for reading. xoxo

This story contains: child almost having an accident in their pants, fluff

{ dadrry - husband!harry - any harry era - Rosie (daughter) age 3 }

word count- 764

While at the grocery store with just his daughter Rosie, she suddenly tells her daddy she has to potty and that leads to Harry running across the store with her to take her to the bathroom so no accidents occur.

Harry decided to take your three year old daughter Rosie to the grocery store with him while you took a nap. You were feeling drained from being six months pregnant with your second baby and Harry insisted you took a nap while they're out of the house.

Everything was going fine until Rosie whined from the cart Harry was pushing her around in that she had to potty. See the thing was, she was at that age where she's pretty much potty trained but on occasion will still have an accident. Usually it's when she can't make it to a toilet fast enough or sometimes when she's asleep.

You and Harry are very understanding when she does have accidents because potty training can be a tough thing to teach and learn. But you do try to avoid accidents as much as possible. So when Rosie tells her daddy she has to potty as he's picking up some bananas in the produce section of the store, his fight or flight clicks in. The one he uses for times like this or when she says she feels like she's gonna be sick, and does the only thing he can think to do in the moment.

"Shit," Harry whispers to himself, "alright, alright. Come 'ere." He drops the bananas in the basket and lifts little Rosie up from the cart seat. Once she's in his arms, Harry leaves his cart in the middle of the aisle and proceeds to jog to the back of the store where he knows the bathrooms to be. "It's gonna be alright. Hold it for a minute more, okay baby."

"But daddy," Rosie whines, clutching around Harry's neck while he basically runs through the store with her, "gotta potty really bad." Luckily not even ten seconds later they are met with a wall of bathrooms and Harry thanks god they have a family bathroom. He hates when he's out in public alone with his daughter and has to decide how he's going to take her to the bathroom when the only options are the men's room and the women's room.

Because he'll be damned if he takes his sweet baby girl into the men's room and she sees something she doesn't need to see at her innocent age. Or get cursed out by middle aged white ladies when they see him, a grown 6ft man with tattoos in the women's room. Even when he clearly has a child with him. So gender neutral / family restrooms are ideal for situations like this one.

Harry rushes into the one toilet bathroom and locks the door. Then he quickly sets Rosie down to the floor and helps her lift her dress and panties down before setting her on the toilet seat. He wishes he had time to wipe the seat off before hand but time wasn't an option for them at the moment. Just as she goes potty, he sighs in relief that they made it in time with no accidents occurring.

Still slightly out of breath from running across the store, he balls up some toilet paper and hands it to his daughter saying, "Okay, make sure you wipe really well. Just like mummy taught you." And that she does. She takes the toilet paper and wipes just like you had taught her when teaching her to use the potty on her own.

Rosie looks up at her father when she's finished and mutters, "All dones." Harry lifts her off the public toilet seat and helps pull her underwear back up and her dress back down. Then he flushes the toilet and carries the three year old to the sink to help her wash her hands. Once her small hands are all clean and dry, he lifts Rosie back up in his arms and proceeds to carry her back over to where he left his cart in hopes no one took it.

Thankfully the shopping cart was where he left it and Harry helps his daughter back in the basket seat to continue there shopping journey. As they wrap up grocery shopping and stand in the check out line, Rosie looks up from where she's sat in the cart and says, "Thank you daddy for helping me go potty so I didn't have an accident." with her tiny but round lips puckered as if asking for a kiss.

Harry leans down to except the generous kiss his daughter was giving and replies, "'Course, baby. And thank you for telling daddy that you had to go potty so you didn't have an accident. Love you so much. Now lets get home to mummy."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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yuquinzel · 2 years ago

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❛ ‧˚ IDLE TOWN — mikage reo.

notes ⨾ hurt / comfort, [ 1.6k wc ] i basically wrote this for practice but I'll post it bc i need feedback + my first attempt at actual angst so idk here have some reo angst i promise i'll make up for it with fluff later :P

you are leaving, for good. and reo knows he cannot stop it.

pause. rewind. he came back home three hours ago, everything was fine. or so he believed. he took note of your silence much quickly. you were talking, yes— but you were silent. he finds silence in your empty glances, less words and more hums for responses. you speak but your words are nothing more than incoherent blurbs of sound. you're silent when he asks you about your day, because you do not ask him the same.

he knows you well. too well to simply brush this of a result of exhaustion. the room he is in is cold, he winces because he does not find you in his arms and because that means you must be cold too. he knew to give you space, sometime to collect your thoughts as he does his.

but an hour or so has passed, reo wants to see you now. he can never always leave you to your thoughts for long lest you need a second voice to become the comforting reminder of not being alone. but if he's being honest, then this is more of a selfish act than a serving one. maybe more than you, he does not want to be left alone with his thoughts.

“hey,” a caffeinated sort of anxiety washes over him when he enters your shared bedroom. the air isn't awkward, but it is not comfortable either, “what're you up to?”

you are still silent, preferring a low and dismissive hum instead. he sits himself on the edge of the bed, hesitant as the way you'd approach a storm. he waits for eleven heartbeats— he knows because he can hear his heart— you don't say anything.

“talk to me, something's on your mind.” reo says. he feels your gaze scan him over, you are searching for something in him. that's the most of a response he's gotten out of you tonight. he hopes you find whatever answer you're looking for, an answer you've decided you won't find in his words.

“i don't know reo, i just— i'm exhausted.” you're lying. he can tell, you don't sound exhausted. you sound defeated. he also knows you are not lying to him, but to yourself. but he does not know what to say, maybe— maybe you still need time. it's okay, he reminds himself. we're okay, it repeats in his mind.

“then let's just get to bed, ’kay?” he can taste the desperation in his voice, it lingers like a bitter aftertaste. why he feels so unsure, he does not know. all he knows is that he doesn't like this — whatever this is — it's hollowing him out from the inside.

his hand instinctively comes to brush back the strands of hair behind your ear. he freezes when you recoil. “i— i'm gonna sleep in the guest bedroom tonight.” his heart stammers in his chest like your voice. you don't give him the luxury of a momentary pause, instead quickly standing up on your feet.

reo's just as quick. his hand envelopes your wrist, you wince a little from the harshness of his hold. “w-what? — no, you can't do that.” his voice is a little raised, long gone is the tenderness he always brings with himself. he's scared. he knows you are too. he looks at you, in hopes of a waver in your composure. you have been oddly calm this entire time, it settles uncomfortably in his stomach.

“i'm not asking you reo, i just need to be alone. just— just let me be.” there's a finality in your meek voice, reo winces at the biting tone.

but he's firm on his words, “this isn't fair, y/n. something's obviously bothering you and instead of talking to me like an adult, you're just giving me the fucking silent treatment? well, shit. i can't read your mind. talk to me— you always do.”

you have to look away, “i'm not doing this with you right now.” you wrestle your wrist out of his grip, walking out of the room with heavy steps that reo follows all too quickly— but you don't really walk into the guest bedroom as he'd feared. you stop. reo sucks in a deep, cold breath.

“what do you want from me?” your voice unfurls in shades of hurt, exhaustion and defeat altogether. reo furrows his brows, his heart beginning to pick up its rhythm, “no, what do you want from me? what did i even do wrong?”

“where were you today, reo? what was your day like?”

your question takes him aback, confusion weaving through the lines on his forehead. “what — you already know that, i texted you i had plans. you read my message, you replied.”

he pauses when a bitter, short-lived laugh leaves your lips. “right, you still don't remember.” your voice feels as empty as your null expression.

“we had a date today, reo. the date you promised to make time for, the date which was an apology because you haven't been home lately. that date — you forgot in favor of hanging out with your friends.” you are breathless now. reo can so clearly see the tears collecting in your eyes, and he also knows you're trying to keep them from falling. he knows you too well, after all.

reo feels lost. his shoulders slack in defeat, his thoughts blur altogether trying to make sense of your words. a heavy, stinging lump claws at his throat. it scratches him from inside until his voice bleeds in the form of quick and staggered breaths, “why — why didn't you say anything?”

this is where the tears trail down your cheeks, reo feels the ache to wipe the damp trails they leave in their wake. but he wills himself against it, he can not. he's afraid you'll burn if he touches you and he's not really ready for that. “i waited — i thought you'd remember. i was waiting for you.”

you don't wipe your tears yourself. because reo has always done that for you. he regrets his prior hesitance, and reaches out his hand to caress the side of your face. you're kind with that. you don't step back, you let him pad his thumb across your skin. he's grateful.

“i'm sorry,” he says. its heavy, but he doubts it carries much wait. “i'm sorry, i — i'm sorry. i'm such a fucking idiot. it just— ” he stammers, voice stuck in his throat. reo feels like he's choking on his words. he knows there's no way to undo the hurt, he knows you won't just forgive him with a few worded apologies. he knows he does not deserve it either. it took until your silence for him to finally hear you. it took until you decided to leave, for him to realize he would give up anything to make you stay.

“i don't want your sorry's reo, i'm tired, i — i want to leave.” a shaky exhale leaves you. next you're walking towards the main door instead of the guest bedroom. reo's feet are stuck to the ground. he swallows back the rising bile in his throat.

“no, wait, it — it's midnight, y/n, love, we still need to talk —”

“what's there to talk about now? what can you say besides you're sorry?”

you are leaving, for good. reo knows he cannot stop it.

but still he finds his feet following your steps. he finds his hand grasping your in attempts to get you to just wait, just— just listen. he finds his knees strike the earth, and although he's scared, he looks up at you once more. he finds himself at a loss for words yet with enough urgency to say something — anything — that it scorches his lips.

“please don't— please, i know i fucked up, i know.” he begins, and you're not so cruel as to walk away this time. “i know i can't say anything besides that i'm sorry, i'm so sorry i made you feel like you weren't important. i'm sorry i promised to do something about it and broke it. i'm so sorry i love you so much that i'm still too selfish to let you go—” you shiver with the slightest tremor in his voice, the crack in rushed breaths that's so very uncharacteristic of him. “— but stay. please stay, y/n. let me show you that you deserve better. please. i don't want to lose you, not like this.”

“reo, get up.” you breathe, voice still as shaky. reo's scared. he's scared to have said something wrong, scared that he pushed you even further way. scared that he has already lost you. but he gets on his feet back up.

it takes a few uncounted heartbeats before you speak again, “you promised reo, after you'd barely been home the entire month. and i waited like an idiot— i love you, so much that i don't know what to do with this anymore.”

reo consumes you in his embrace. it is nothing firm or strong, but just something to keep you close. it's grounding. reo feels all your breaths as they come and go, “we can figure it out. we'll talk, about everything. like we always do. you said we make a good team right? we can — we can talk about it in the morning.”

reo is afraid you'll disappear if he lets you go now, and you're finally holding on to him as well.

“i'm exhausted reo,” you whisper this time. but you are holding on to him, with something akin to the sincerity and the hope of being held the same way. so he does.

“i know, i love you. it's okay,” reo hums, he feels breathless. “we'll figure it out in the morning, yeah?”

it takes a weak nod from you to make his shoulders relax, all the worry lines of his forehead unwinding and as he rakes his fingers through your hair — he hopes it does the same for you. it has always calmed you down. he hopes that hasn't changed.

this is where he hooks an arm under your thighs, the other so gently wrapped over your shoulder as he lifts you up in one swift motion. you cling to him. reo is grateful.

he knows you have much to talk about. but when you let your head fall to rest on his chest, when you tell him you like the sound of his heart, when you still say you love him as he lays you down on the bed, the warmth pooling the sheets as much as your eyes — he knows the two of you will be alright.

you stay — and that's all reo cares about.

i don't really like this :D but okay anyway i hope you did + I'm tagging @venusbby @inariezaki @hyomagiri @rinnahhhh @kyoghurts @luvether and i still believe taglists are scary ^_^

#❛ ‧˚🪐 — the dusk renditions.#mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x you #reo mikage x you #blue lock angst #blue lock fluff #reo x reader fluff #reo angst #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #ive decided i hate writing angst for my precious munchkin

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spidersophie · 2 years ago

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COWORKERS IN LOVE

lando norris blurb

lando norris x mclaren racing engineer!reader

writing & social media extras

a/n: english is not my first language, i wrote it in a rush of inspiration, so there might be some mistakes — if so, don’t be scared to correct me in the comments!

update: thanks @ryntro for giving this fic a proper title<3

"well done, lando, what a brilliant weekend for you and mclaren. another podium of the season, and the first ever win in your career. how are you feeling right now?" will buxton asked in his post-race interview, pointing a microphone towards the british driver.

"oh my god, mate, i don’t even know what i should say" lando exclaimed, grinning like a little child that just got a new toy. "i’m quite overwhelmed by the crowd and all the emotions, so i don’t think i’m able to say anything more than i’m so happy to be in this place, and to score my first ever f1 win in silverstone, alongside the people i love and an amazing team."

"sounds like you were really enjoying today’s racing. in the commentator’s booth everyone was pointing out the brilliant communication between you and your racing engineer. was that one of the keys of today’s result?"

"yeah, definitely," lando smiled even wider as will mentioned y/n, "even though she’s new into this role, i can already tell she was born for this. she’s doing such a great job, working with her is a pleasure, i hope for more podiums and wins with her by my side, i love her- i mean i love working with her" lando corrected himself quickly, but not quickly enough for will not to hear his whole rambling and not quietly enough for the camera man not to record his whole speech, including the l bomb.

"shit, i wasn’t suppose to say that, was i?" he asked partially to himself, partially to charlotte who was standing behind him with a panic rising in her eyes. "i guess that’s all for today" he added, feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, meaning that yes, indeed he should end that interview.

"do you hate me?" that was first question lando asked y/n as he walked into the mclaren’s motorhome. "fuck, i can’t believe i actually said that. you’re definitely mad at me. i won’t be surprised if you quit your job by the next race weekend, cause it’s kinda awkward, considering we’re meant to stay on professional terms."

"lando norris, can you just stopped walking circles around and try to calm down?" y/n grabbed brit’s wrist, forcing him to look at her. "i’m not mad, more like surprised, cause we haven’t really decided what we’re gonna do with everything that’s started happening between us. and you know, i didn’t really expect hearing i love you in the middle of an interview, but i guess i’ll live with that." she lifted lando’s hand and placed a quick kiss to it. "we’ll figure it out, okay?"

"okay," lando stepped towards y/n and placed his hands around her waist, pulling her closer towards his chest,"so that means you’re not going to resign?"

"as long as zak doesn’t mind," y/n said, inhaling the familiar scent of lando’s hoodie. "but no more l-bombs from you in the middle of interviews. let’s give poor charlotte a rest."

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ra1nyd4yzz · 1 year ago

Text

Weird, perv Wilbur x sweet, gyrau reader!

warnings: smut, mentions of sex toys, use of sex toys, Wilbur's room is disgusting and vile. I really don't know any other warnings so if I missed any let me know!!

Taglist:@abbs-writes-nsfw

Words:763

this started off as nothing like I wrote a little blurb type thing in abbs asks and it kinda progressed and now we have this! I hope you like it also it was my first time writing smut so it's not great but I tried my best also its not edited. this took hours for some reason.

You now always teased Wilbur for how you guys started dating, i mean how could you not i mean you caught him jerking off to a photo of you of course you were going to tease the poor boy he deserved it for being a perv.

You were in his room, him laying in his bed watching you as you cleaned up his room. “Babe, you know I can clean it right?” He said looking at you like you were his goddess “yea but you wont i mean look at this ugh” you picked up a bowl of mouldy unfinished ramen “how old is this wil?” he looked at it “ohh that's where i put that huh i must have forgotten” he chuckled and you side put the bowl in a trash bag and you continued cleaning his room.

Putting dirty clothes in his unused clothes basket and bowls of mouldy ramen and cereal in the bin because you know those bowls could never be washed enough to get the mould off them.

You got on the ground after you cleared it and stuck your head under the bed, you decided you were cleaning everything out so under his bed and closet were getting cleaned out. Wilbur stared at your perfect body as you went down well. He was mainly staring at your ass but still it was perfect to him.

You pulled out a shoe box, weirdly it was the only one under his bed? You set it on his desk in front of his monitor. Wilbur was too intrapped in your glory he didn't notice the shoebox “what's this baby?” you asked and he had to drag his eyes from your body to the shoe box on his desk and he immediately freaked “sweetheart lets not open this box please its personal-” and before you could even hear the last part of his sentence you opened the shoebox and started giggling at the contents inside.

“Sex toys really wilbur?” you picked up a fleshlight “bet you used these while looking at photos of me you perv” you chuckled saying it as a joke, you turned to wilbur and he was looking down in his lap in guilt “you didn't actually did you wilbur?” no reply, your mouth slightly parted “wilbur?” you asked again he shamefully looked back up and grabbed it off you and shoved it back in the shoe box and closed it.

You chuckled at the thought of your pretty boy being a perv for you, you opened up the box and grabbed the fleshlight “y/n stop-” “take off your pants and boxers now wilbur” you said as you cut him off, the tone you had was new to him, more dominant and stern somehow still keeping your soft and sweet demeanour to it. He immediately obeyed you and threw off his sweats and boxer, you sat next to him in his bed and pulled him into your lap.

It was easy to pull him into your lap as he was lanky, his cock was already hard you chuckle “oh pretty boy your cocks already hard” you couldn't keep in your giggle and that just turned him on even more, you were his goddess “well sweetboy i dont really want to fuck so im gonna use this fleshlight to get you off okay sweetheart? Just imagine it's me alright, imagine it's my tight pussy around you” he nodded and whimpered, already unable to say words “sweet boy i need to hear a yes or i can't continue” you stroked his hair and ran your fingers through his gorgeous brown curls.

“Y-yes” you heard that and slowly lowered the fleshlight on his cock, he whimpered and whined in pleasure as you went up and now and praised him, he quickly gave in and cummed, you were so proud of your pretty boy.

“good job sweetheart, let me clean you up ok?” he nodded and you took the fleshlight off his dick and put it on his desk, he whined before moaning and you licked a strip up his cock, cleaning up the cum before stopping and getting up.

You quickly came back into his room with a chux and wiped up him and the mess on the bed before helping him into his boxers, you gave him one of his hoodies and he put it on, you guys cuddled “you did so good baby, I'm so proud of you alright” you caressed his cheek, he was so tired already and he mumbled and then fell asleep in your embrace.

#bimbo!reader #perv!wilbur #werid!wilbur #wilbur smut #wilbur soot smut

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reidsaurora · 2 years ago

Note

okay but consider

Spencer post prison needing his routine to be even more specific because he had such a rigid schedule while inside, like he always had lunch at the same time everyday, so you and spencer are like working a case and lunch starts to approach but everyone is kinda in the throws of research and spencer is clearly not doing so well

so you pull spencer aside and are like "spence whats wrong?" and he explains hes uncomfy cuz of wanting lunch at a specific time, so you talk to emily and the two of you take your lunch together, and it becomes kind of like a little routine for the two of you to take your lunches together

wrote a lil blurb about this because you, my love, deserved a lil blurb. hope ur having a lovely day!! 🫶🏻🧡

pov: Spencer is having a hard time adjusting to life outside of prison. luckily, he has you to make it better ♡

warnings: Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader, angst to fluff sorta, lots of talk about spencer's time in prison, descriptions of food, lots of crying, 0.9K words, not beta read!

Spencer looked up from his Tupperware container, curious eyes meeting yours. "What are you doing?" he asked, brows pinched together in confusion.

"Well," you started, sitting down across from him, "I wanted to have lunch with you. If that's okay."

He nodded slowly, setting his fork down and giving you his full attention. "Why?"

You let out a soft laugh as you began unpacking your lunchbag. "You're always sitting alone," you shrugged. "Figured I'd change that."

A tinge flooded the brunette man's cheeks. He looked away from you—though, he wasn't really looking directly at you in the first place—and focused his attention back on the Tupperware, poking around at his taco salad. He sent an understanding nod your way, as if unsure what to say next. You knew from experience that Spencer wasn't the most conversational person, having struggled with social cues, so you decided it was for the better to eat in peaceful silence.

The room remained comfortably quiet, a small space of availability staying open just in case Spencer had felt exceptionally talkative that day. You caught him occasionally glancing at you, like he'd wanted to close the small space you'd left open, but stayed silent anyway, wanting to finish his salad as quickly as humanly possible.

Finally, you decided to bite the bullet, so to speak, and crack the silence first. "Spencer, you know you can talk to us, right?"

He nodded, poking around at the ground beef that was left at the bottom of his bowl.

"I know things have probably been hard since…" your voice trailed off. Since what? Since prison? Since being locked in a cage for months? Since being tortured for days on end, probably?

"You can say the word, Y/N. It's not like it'll kill us to talk about," he grumbled, nearly under his breath. His eyes remained on the Tupperware, his cheeks heated as he continued to avoid your gaze.

"Spencer, I know it probably felt like you were alone in there," you started, your heart heavy as you thought about those agonizingly long three months he was stuck in that prison, "but I can assure you that you're not alone now. We're here for you. I'm here for you, Spence."

Finally, for what felt like the first time since he'd been locked up, his honey tinted eyes met yours, tears forming in them but not quite at the point of slipping down his cheeks. "I know, it's just… it's stupid."

"What's stupid?" you questioned, slightly hurt that he assumed you'd find whatever was bugging him ridiculous.

"The reason I keep leaving to eat lunch by myself. You guys are going to think it's stupid."

You weren't sure why you did it. You knew that Spencer wasn't a huge fan of physical touch, and it wasn't your place to do it anyway. Still, your hand moved across the table, your palm wrapping around Spencer's wrist, your delicate fingers seeming small in comparison to his giant hand. "Tell me. Please. I can't fix the problem if I don't know what's wrong, Spencer."

He looked down again, where your skin touched his, but didn't make any efforts to move. "I used to eat lunch every day at the same time by myself. Every day, at 12:07 p.m., I would sit alone at this table in the corner of the lunchroom. I made sure I was facing the door and facing everyone that came in, because I was getting so tired of having to watch my back every second that I was awake."

You placed your fork down before moving to sit down on Spencer's side of the picnic-style table, wrapping your arm around him. You knew it was ridiculous, putting your hands on him so many times in such a short span of time, but you couldn't really bring yourself to care. Your palm splayed across his spine, rubbing soft circles as he fell against your frame. Tears fell down his cheeks and onto your shirt, broken breaths and sobs escaping his lips.

"You're never gonna go back to that place. Not if I'm around to stop it," you reassured him, holding him ever so close. "You will never have to live like that ever again. I promise."

His chest rose and fell in quick movements as his tears picked up. "I'm so scared, Y/N. I'm scared of going back. I'm scared of never being my old self again. I'm just… terrified."

You held him like that until his tears had slowed, and when they picked back up a second time, you just kept on holding him. Every tear he hadn't cried in prison had surely made its way to the surface, but neither of you cared. Even when you knew it was much past when you should've gone back to work. Even when five minutes turned into ten, and when ten minutes turned into twenty, and so on.

Spencer's dark eyes met yours, his cheeks still damp with the leftover tears that hadn't quite dried yet. "Thank you."

You gave him a gentle smile, the back of your hand reaching up to wipe your own cheeks where you'd cried for him. "Always, Spence."

"Do you think…" he started to ask, gaze breaking yet again.

Your brows furrowed as you wondered what he wanted to ask. Your stomach flipped at all the possibilities. "Yeah?"

"Do you think we could start doing this every day?" he finally asked. "Just until I start to feel safe again."

You didn't even have to consider your answer. "I think that would be excellent."

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @wwwonzeee @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose

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littlestarbigsky · 3 months ago

Note

do u ship purly/papercut??

if not nevermind this!

but i js need some purly/papercut fluff REAL BAD.

in all honesty, i ship them BUT i don’t think i know enough about the shepards to adequately write a full fic abt them. however! i do have this little blurb i wrote a bit ago lol

hope this is okay🩷

“you didn’t have to hit him back, he would have just kicked you in the stomach and left if you didn’t piss him off,” curly shook his head, pouring some saline onto a cotton ball.

curly wasn’t happy. pony could tell in his voice and the way he was moving around. it wasn’t even pony’s fault, really… that one asshole soc was the one who knocked the wind out of him for no good reason.

“shut up,” pony huffed, flinching away slightly as curly came closer to his face to clean the cut across his temple.

pong seemed apprehensive for a moment before he rolled his eyes and let curly clean it with a gentleness pony didn’t know he was capable of. he sat still while curly cleaned off the blood and put two butterfly bandages in place to start it healing, and quickly cleaned up the bathroom.

“i didn’t know you knew so much about all this,” pony hopped off the bathroom sink and leaned against the doorframe as curly finished cleaning up.

curly just shrugged, “i don’t. it’s tim that knows everything, i’ve just been stupid and gotten into enough fights to know what works.”

“i’m trying to be nice to you,” pony pushed himself off the doorframe with his shoulder and walked back to curly’s room, gingerly laying down on the bed to favor his bruised ribs.

curly came in a few minutes later, “you wanna be nice to me? move over.”

pony grinned and scooted towards the wall and gave curly the space to flop down next to him and pull him into his side.

“you’re an idiot, you know that?”

“you’re a bigger idiot,” pony mumbled.

#curly shepard #ponyboy curtis #papercut ship #star’s writing #star answers

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adidastain · 1 year ago

Text

i have something to tell you

90s matt stone x ftm reader (blurb)

a/n: this is something i whipped up real quick for my own comfort cus i've felt so shitty the past few days. i'm actually really glad i wrote this cus not only did it make me feel better but i also don't hate it and it's my first time writing ftm reader (i'm ftm. idk if you could assume from my prns (he/him) despite the fact that i primarily write fem reader fics but yes i am ftm) so this is for all my t-brothers in the mattrey fandom <3 obviously if you're cis you can read it all you want i love u all no matter what :) enjoy

other notes: some suggestive dialogue at the end, all lowercase, 2847 words

“hey,” matt said to me. i was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes from the night before. i hated touching the food grime stuck to the porcelain, but it needed to be done.

“hi,” i said, putting on a small smile and leaning sideways to accept his kiss to my cheek, which he held for a few seconds. i felt my face grow warm. he was so good at making me blush.

my smile quickly faded, however. something had been on my mind all day that kept me constantly terrified. i just hoped that he would make me feel better, enough so that my gloom would go away and i wouldn’t bring his mood down too.

matt set his coat and stuff down on the kitchen table, before coming back over to me and wrapping his arms tightly around my waist. i leaned back against his broad chest, tilting my head as he kissed the crook of my neck.

“how was your day?” he asked me.

“fine,” i hummed, scrubbing the inside of a plastic cup.

“not,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows. “you know i know that ‘fine’ means not fine.”

“it was fine,” i insisted, looking at him. “just uneventful.”

“m’kay,” he said, still suspicious. “i missed you a lot.”

“i missed you too,” i sighed. that was true. i missed him more and more every day. nothing in our lives had changed, i just felt like he was slipping away from me solely because i was the distant one. i just tried to cherish what i had before it would all go to shit. i was terrified.

“wanna watch a movie tonight?” he asked, kissing my ear. i felt matt’s hand travel down my waist, rubbing over the swell of my ass and giving it a light squeeze.

i giggled, pushing him away with my back. i was relieved that he was still able to make me laugh and feel all warm inside. i loved him so much.

“hm?” he hummed, pushing his question.

“sure,” i said, washing the dish germs off my hands before drying them off with a towel.

…

we ended up choosing a pretty depressing movie. neither of us knew it would be such a rough watch, but we got through it and i felt pretty shitty. matt pulled me closer as the credits rolled, most likely able to see that i was troubled.

no words were said; he just caressed my face with both hands and looked into my eyes. i stared back, taking in the feeling that it gave me to share that contact with him. it would be gone soon, i was sure of it. that look of love he gave me would soon turn into one of betrayal, disgust, disappointment.

of course, the thought brought tears to my eyes, which he immediately noticed.

“i’m sorry,” he apologized. “i didn’t know the movie was like that. i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay,” i exhaled, swallowing harshly through a tight throat. “i’m okay.”

i giggled slightly, hoping to rid him of his concern and make myself feel a little better too. matt buried his slender fingers into my hair, holding my head close to his shoulder. for a moment, i sat there, letting him hold me. my hands tentatively made their way around his neck, pressing him against me as i felt a sob threatening to escape me.

“i don’t think you are,” he sighed, his voice cracking. that pushed me over the edge. i broke down, tears soaking spots in his shirt as i buried my face in his shoulder.

matt adjusted so that his arms were wrapped completely around my waist, holding my body flat against his. his lips pressed against my neck and cheek periodically, warm and soft.

“talk to me,” he told me, his hand trailing up and down my back. “you haven’t been yourself lately.

i didn’t understand what he meant by that. i guess he could tell that i had been feeling down, but it was ironic. i’d been feeling down because i was terrified to tell him what i’d discovered about myself. how everything i hated about myself throughout my entire life was all because of one thing that i was absolutely petrified to share with him. it was myself, yet he had no idea.

“i don’t want to make you upset,” i sobbed, gripping the fabric of his t-shirt as if he were trying to get away and i didn’t want him to leave.

“baby,” he said softly. he smiled, looking into my eyes. “i don’t want you to be upset either. whatever it is, it’ll be better if we talk about it.”

maybe he was right. maybe we could work it out. maybe he would be willing to give himself a different label and call me by a different name, if we could work it out.

i sniffled, staring into his eyes and wishing he could just read my mind so i didn’t have to put it into words and fuck everything up. i could ruin my entire life with my next words.

matt sat patiently, looking at me with concerned yet infinitely loving eyes. i spent my last few seconds with those eyes taking in their beauty, relishing the feeling they gave me when they peered into me with dilated pupils and relaxed lids. just a few more seconds, and i may never get them back.

“i hate myself,” i choked, practically whispering. matt’s face dropped, his eyebrows furrowing.

“you-“

“i’m not finished,” i squeaked, my voice wavering as i felt tears welling again. “please believe me when i say… i-i love you more than anything, matt. you are so important to me a-and-“

i cut myself off when i felt his thumb wipe a tear away from my eye. that only made me cry more.

“you’re killing me,” matt swallowed. “i’m getting really worried.”

“i’m sorry,” i said, nearly gauging my eyes out with how harshly i wiped my tears away.

“i’m listening, baby,” he whispered. “i promise.”

i took a deep breath, picking my fingertips as my entire body trembled. here we go.

ruining my life in 3, 2…

“i’m tired of being… of being a-a girl,” i mumbled, my voice faltering. yep. it was over. gone. finished.

i first noticed his eyebrows furrow deeper than i’d ever seen them. he cocked his head slightly. he did that whenever he was confused.

“what are you talking about?” he asked cautiously, meeting my eyes. concern still lingered in his gaze. i still felt the love there, but i hadn’t said entirely what i needed to say.

“i don’t wanna be a girl anymore,” i sniffled, looking down as i spoke. “i don’t think i’ve ever wanted to be a girl.”

silence filled the space between us as matt seemed to be deep in thought. “so…” he pondered out loud, not entirely sure what he was going to say, just as i was.

“i’m… i’m trans. transgender. i-i think,” i said, swallowing harshly. my eyes burned from drying tears. my body just shook, saving the rest of the tears for later.

i noticed matt’s expression relax for the most part, one small wrinkle still sitting between his subtly furrowed brows. he always sort of had a resting angry face, but now he looked frustrated for real. he was staring into space, just sitting there, thinking.

i looked away from him, pulling away slightly so that i wasn’t sitting on top of him anymore. i felt cold; i’d ripped myself away from his warmth before i gave myself the chance to cherish it.

there it was before me. my life, broken and shattered into millions of pieces.

“can… can i ask you-“ he started.

“yeah,” i exhaled. i didn’t realize that i’d been holding my breath.

“how, um, how do you know that?” matt asked softly. “i just mean-“

“it’s fine,” i swallowed. “i-i just… i don’t- i don’t know how to explain it. i-it’s… you know how i like wearing baggy clothes and overall just, y’know, men’s clothes?”

matt nodded, staying quiet. he had his listening face on. jaw clenched shut, chewing on the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

“it’s like, i don’t… i don’t wanna be a girl dressing like a man. i wanna be a man dressing like a man. even as a kid i wanted to wear boy’s clothes,” i explained. my voice cracked towards the end of my sentence, tears filling my eyes once again.

i knew matt had little, if not zero experience with this, and to be honest, i barely did myself. and based on some of the stuff i’d seen and heard from his work, it didn’t seem like he ever wanted to have experience to begin with.

“so… would you… change your name and stuff?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“mhm,” i hummed, sniffling. i wiped my eyes, cringing at the stinging sensation.

“what name are-… w-what name would you prefer?” he asked, his voice softer than i’d ever heard it.

did he really want to know? part of me didn’t want to tell him. part of me felt scared to death that he would tell his friends and they would mock me.

“i, um… i like y/n,” i mumbled. i felt a small smile trying to creep up my face. it felt good to finally say that out loud. “feels good. i’ve always liked that name.”

“y/n?” he repeated.

i nodded, swallowing. i finally worked up the courage to look at him again. i felt better, but i still felt dread over what he was going to say next.

“come here, y/n,” he said, beckoning me over with his index finger. good god. it felt unbelievably good to hear him call me that, regardless of whether what was to follow.

i climbed back over to him, melting in his arms. matt ran his fingers through my hair. i could feel his heartbeat, racing nearly as fast as mine. he still felt just as warm as he did a few minutes ago.

i let one hand caress his back while my other hand played with one of his curls on the back of his head. he let out a heavy exhale, his body relaxing under me.

“i love you so much,” he said quietly in my ear. “you know that.”

i nodded, pulling him closer. i said “i love you too,” but it was practically silent and only came out as a breath.

“i wish i knew more about this,” he said, his own voice starting to waver slightly. he placed a small kiss on my ear, moving my hair out of the way.

“it’s okay,” i choked. i closed my eyes and pressed my face against his hair, letting his soft curls brush against my skin. “i understand if you… if you don’t wanna have to- …y’know.”

“have to what?” he pressed. “call you my boyfriend?”

i nodded. matt looked at me, wiping my tears away again. i could see his own eyes watering slightly, even through his glasses. my lip quivered as i remembered why i was so scared in the first place.

“i was so scared,” i laughed slightly, gulping.

matt held both of my hands with one of his, the other reaching up to caress my jaw as he slowly leaned in and placed a soft, passionate kiss on my lips.

even after letting go, his face lingered close to mine. we remained still, breathing each other in for a moment. his hand slipped away from my face, lowering to meet the rest of the bundle of hands that sat in my lap.

“i didn’t want to lose you,” i whispered, barely audible. “i didn’t want to tell you ‘cause i was so scared that you would leave a-and-“

“i still love you,” he said. he gave me a small smile, showing off his dimples. “i don’t want to leave you. ever. not in a million years. you’re the brightest part of my entire fucking life.”

i started crying again, hiding my face from him. i really thought he was going to be upset. i was so sure he would push me away. i guess i just didn’t read him correctly.

“and who the fuck cares if i’m gay?” he laughed, pulling my hands away from my face. “everyone pretty much already believes that i am.”

“but are you?” i asked, still sobbing. “there’s a difference between saying you’re gay and actually being gay.”

“yeah, i mean-“

“it’s not a joke,” i swallowed. “are you attracted to men?”

matt’s face dropped slightly. i didn’t mean to, but i had snapped at him a bit. my arms and hands were still shaking. i felt bad for interrogating him like this, but i would have preferred to get my heart broken now than later on, after thinking that i might have been spared of it.

“i…” matt choked slightly. he cleared his throat. i saw tears welling in his eyes again. “i don’t know.”

i sighed, looking away. i put my face in my hands again, taking a deep, shaky breath to keep more tears at bay.

“but that doesn’t mean i can’t try new things, right?” he said softly, running a hand through my hair. i lifted my head up, tucking some stray strands of hair behind my ears.

“i guess,” i squeaked, swallowing harshly. i looked at him, unintentionally giving him somewhat of a puppy-eyed look. i reached towards his face, carefully removing his glasses so that i could wipe a tear away from his cheek. matt turned his head to kiss the palm of my hand, before grabbing it and pressing it against his face.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he mumbled, his words muffled by my skin against his mouth. smooch. “whether i’m gay or not, you can’t get rid of me.”

i smiled slightly, looking down as i felt heat rise in my cheeks. “i don’t think it works like that,” i said. “but okay.”

matt smiled and let my hand rest on his cheek. i swallowed, scooting a little bit closer so i could lean forward and softly kiss him.

the kiss lasted a few seconds, breaking every so often to we could just breath each other in and look into each other’s eyes. i still held his glasses in my hand, resting in my lap as my arms and legs stopped shaking so much.

matt’s fingertips grazed my jaw. “i love you so much, y/n,” he said softly into my lips. i smiled at the sound of my name in his voice, speaking so softly yet passionately.

“i love you more,” i said, trying not to grin from ear to ear.

“is there anything else you wanna tell me?” he asked, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “anything else on your mind?”

i shook my head, pecking his lips. i curled up in his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“okay,” he hummed. matt pushed my hair away from my face.

“can i tell you who i wanna look like?” i asked, grazing my fingertip back and forth on his neck.

“who?” he asked, putting his glasses back on.

“george michael,” i mumbled, grinning slightly.

matt giggled. “he is a beautiful man.”

i laughed, shoving him playfully. matt just grinned, caressing my chin and pulling me in for another, much deeper kiss.

i exhaled, relaxing my body for the first time in weeks as he kissed me over and over. it was dizzying, but i loved it. all the fear i held inside for so long about never being able to feel his lips on mine or his body pressed up against me ever again was behind me. that was the best thing i could have asked for.

i let him slip his tongue between my lips, taking his time exploring the inside of my mouth and feeling my own tongue against his. i heard him him slightly into the kiss, leaning deeper into it.

suddenly, he pulled away, causing a string of saliva between our lips to break.

“what do you say we wear that name in?” he purred, biting his lip and stroking my jaw. there it was, that look of love. the one i was so sure i would never see again.

i rolled my eyes, feeling myself blush heavily. i made an “ugh” sound and pushed his chest away.

“i’m serious,” he grinned. “i told you i would try new things.”

“i know, i know,” i said, standing up. it had been quite a few days since we last… had fun. i’d been so distant and down in the dumps that i never really felt like it and i guess he could kind of tell that was the case. “c’mon.”

i could have sworn i heard him giggle in excitement as he too stood up from the couch and followed me towards our bedroom, barely able to keep his hands to himself during our short walk down the hallway.

#i cried while writing this #i’m sorry if you cried too #ftm reader #matt stone #matt stone x reader #trey parker #x reader #fluff #angst #fanfiction #baseketball #cannibal the musical #mattrey

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coco-loco-nut · 10 months ago

Text

tumblr

pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

summary: idek, an unedited fluffy short blurb

requests open masterlist

———————

Usually your period isn’t this bad, but your body decided to rebel against you.

“How are you feeling?” Oscar asks, handing you a mug of tea as you are curled up on the couch watching your ultimate comfort movies.

“Like shit,” you groan, ignoring the cramp you just felt.

“I can make you a warm bath, maybe light some candles,” Oscar offers, sitting beside you.

“It’s okay, there is nothing Barbie doesn’t cure. You don’t have to sit here all day with me, go ahead and do your training,” you tell Oscar, watching to watch the old Barbie movies in peace, without Oscar worrying about you. He takes your hint without being hurt about it, he’s a big boy.

Honestly, you don’t know how you ended up with Oscar, he doesn’t really look like any of the princes, and those guys are definitely your type.

When Oscar reappears a few hours later, freshly showered, he notices you scrolling on your phone, humming to the music from the movie.

“Babe, I’m going to order pizza, what do you want?” Oscar asks, opening the app on his phone.

“Hold on, I’m about to get with you,” you say, fully invested in your phone.

“What?”

“This has been the slowest burn ever, but we are finally about to get together, in like chapter 20. I hate slow burns,” you huff.

“Babe, we are already together. You married me?” Oscar says confused. You finish the last paragraph and look at him.

“It’s fan fiction, Osc. You know, on Tumblr,” you show him your phone and his eyebrows are furrowed.

“Why?” is all he can say, unsure of how to react.

“I got bored of writing,” you say, closing the app and refocusing on the movie.

“You write the fan fiction? For me?”

“Ew no. That would be weird. I write for the more popular drivers. You know, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Max, Daniel, Lewis,” you list and Oscar just stares at you. You are literally besties with Lando and Charles, but you don’t write for your own husband? He’s honestly offended.

“What do you mean ew? I think how you scream my name most nights contradicts that,” Oscar smirks, your face flaming.

“That’s why it would be weird. I’ve written it but it will never be published,” you admit, a little embarrassed.

“Anyway, pizza. Yes or no?” you quickly reply yes, hoping to move on from the conversation. That night, once you fall asleep, he scrolls through your account, reading the fan fictions you wrote and reblogged. It’s weird, but he enjoys your writing.

The subject isn’t brought up again until one drunken grid and WAG dinner, where Oscar drunkenly blurts it out.

“Y/n’s written fan fiction about us,” he says and all the guys look at you.

“The girls love it. Some of your antics make for great stories,” you defend yourself.

“So true, I love reading them,” Kika says, the other WAGs voice their agreement about it.

“What?” Charles is confused, but Lando, being the child he is, gets excited.

“Which one of us gets the most written about?” he asks and none of you waste a second replying.

“Charles,” the answer is in unison, causing the Monegasque to blush. None of you will admit that Lando is a close second.

Over the next week, you get random texts from them, asking which ones you wrote, but also their thoughts on different ones. Charles is appalled and flattered by the amount of smut written for him. Lando and Daniel are the opposite, they love the smut and how they’re talked up. They also told you that they got ideas from some of them, causing you to want to bleach your eyes out.

Eventually, they found out which account was yours, sent it to each other, and started spamming your inbox with requests. Lando’s tend to be about him winning a WDC, poor guy can barely win as is.

After a week of them spamming your inbox with requests, you decide to post an announcement on your account.

Dear readers,

Unfortunately my account has been outed. I know you all love my works and when I post some behind the scenes information about GPs. Sadly, my friends who work in an important role in F1 found my account and it no longer feels right to write this anymore out of respect for them.

Thank you all ❤️

↪️ user1 she knows a driver doesn’t she

↪️ user2 or an engineer

↪️ cl16racer don’t stop 😢

↪️ y/username sorry buddy, it’s time

↪️ oscarpastryy yeah, it’s a little weird now

↪️ landomorewins it doesn’t have to be!

“Wow, the guys are really torn up about it,” you laugh, Oscar’s arms around you as you cuddle on the couch. You had been thinking about stopping writing them anyway, so it was just a good excuse.

“I just wish you’d publish what you wrote about me,” Oscar kisses the side of your head.

“That’s far too dirty and intimate. It’s what I read when you are away,” you say with a blush. “You can read it if you want,” you hand him your phone. He holds the phone where you can both read it, his other hand running up and down your side absentmindedly at first but more intentionally the longer you read, until you aren’t reading anymore. That might’ve been some of your best sex.

“From now on, when you write like that when I’m away, you send it to me. Promise, Mrs Piastri?” Oscar says, kissing you.

“I promise,”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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allylikethecat · 4 months ago

Text

Hiiii Remember when I said I wasn't going to write anymore of the ATKH universe and then wrote that olympic blurb but then said I REALLY wasn't going to do anything like that again? Well I guess I really lied because I just wrote another little ATKH oneshot. This takes place sometime between the end of ATKH and the Olympics. Fictional!Matty and Fictional!George are not back together yet, but they are very friendly again and moving in that direction. Shout out to all of the kids and teenagers that were part of the wild post Thanksgiving pony carnage at the barn this morning - y'all inspired me. (Thankfully Pop was absolutely perfect and we had one of our best lessons in a while!)

ATKH Post Thanksgiving Blurb

George winced, and forced himself to smile for the parents watching from the viewing deck. He was teaching a lesson in the front ring, while Matty rode and Jamie taught in the back. He could hear Jamie yelling, and the scuffling of hooves as a horse clearly scrambled. He turned his attention back to Adeline and her pony, wincing again when he heard Jamie shouting for Matty to get on. He hoped that Adeline’s parents weren’t listening too closely to what Jamie was shouting.

I swear to god Dora, either stop throwing your body, or I will ... I guess I’ll just DIE!

George closed his eyes and turned away from the viewing deck, letting his smile drop. He wasn’t sure if being in the back ring with everyone would be better or worse for his blood pressure. Probably worse— he was sure that Jamie would be shouting for him to get on horses as well.

It was the day after Thanksgiving, and all of the horses were fresh. Normally, they wouldn’t try to jump school them after a day off, especially as the weather turned cooler and everyone started feeling frisky, but with them scheduled to leave for Thermal on Sunday, they didn’t have a choice.

“Good job Adeline!” George called, working to keep his tone upbeat and positive. Usually, Polly worked with the pony kids these days, but with her out of town for the holidays, George and Matty were splitting her usual load. Matty had worked with the kids all morning, and now it was George’s turn. Billie and Phoebe had been extremely pleasant in the back ring this morning, George wasn’t entirely sure how things had devolved so quickly. Ross had gone back with a lunge line nearly an hour ago and had yet to return.

He took a deep breath. Just a few more hours he thought grimly, they just needed to make it a few more hours.

“Okay Addy,” called George to be heard across the ring and over whatever carnage was happening in the other ring, “I want you to pick up the left lead canter and I want you to get all the way into the corner like we talked about, and get super, super square to the pink jump, then, you’re going to be super straight on the backside then when you get to the rail you’re going to turn right, a big corner, and canter the jump with the flowers then halt straight alright?”

Adeline nodded and George said a silent prayer to a god he didn’t believe in as she picked up the canter.

Please be straight so we can be done, George thought almost hysterically, he had forgotten how trying the younger kids could be to teach.

“Nice job!” said he called as Adaline jumped the first jump. She might not have been perfectly straight and center, but it was the best he had seen from her all afternoon. “Don’t change your canter, just stay nice and steady through the turn!”

Of course, George had barely gotten the words out and Adeline spurred Frostie. The pony bucked and next thing George knew he had a sobbing seven year old sitting in the dirt and a small pony, that there was absolutely no way he would be able to get on to school, running around the arena in celebration of his newfound freedom.

He just sighed, thinking of the beer he had stashed in Matty’s fridge that morning. He was looking forward to having one more than what was probably considered healthy.

“We survived,” said Matty, throwing himself down onto the small couch in his barn apartment. George had let himself in earlier, and he wasn’t hiding regardless of what Waughy might have teased him about when he had been caught sneaking in.

“Barely,” George said, reaching over the small coffee table to hand Matty that glass of wine he had proactively poured him.

“Adaline got bucked off Frostie,” George said after a moment as Matty accepted the wine glass and took a large swallow, some of the tension now leaving his body. He hadn’t even bothered to take his boots off, still wearing them and his spurs, his legs splayed out in front of him. He had lost the baseball cap he had started the day in hours ago, leaving his curls hanging sweaty and damp around his face. George was pretty sure he had seen it hanging in a tree in the front ring.

Matty winced. “Dora fell off Keke and I thought that Jamie was going to have an aneurysm, then I got on Whisper, because she was fucking wild and Bonnie was doing fuck all about it, and then Bonnie got back on so I could ride Diego, but then Jamie fucking got on her because Bonnie was still doing fuck all and he wanted to make a point.”

George winced, Jamie hardly rode anymore, between the rod in his back and his knee, and if he was getting on Whisper of all horses, he must have been pissed off enough to be really looking to make a point.

“Billie was really good this morning though?” George said, the words coming out like more of a question.

Matty nodded, taking another large gulp of his wine. “Yeah, that’s what Jamie said, that she and Ava are the only two he didn’t want to murder today.”

“Well, the good news is we get to do it all again tomorrow?” George said and Matty groaned.

“I’m lunging all of them in the dark tomorrow morning, I can’t do this again,” Matty whined, “I rode fourteen horses today, fourteen horses, I’m not even going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

George grimaced, the nine he had ridden that day very much paling in comparison.

“I’ll come help you,” George promised, anything to avoid another repeat of today.

Matty smiled, his real one, the one that lit up his face and reached his eyes and George’s stomach flipped. He had been seeing that smile of Matty’s directed his way more and more frequently these days, and he absolutely loved it.

#allylikethecat #keep it kind #fanfiction #matty fic #gatty #fanfic #equestrian au #atkh #all the king's horses #atkh extended universe #surprise happy belated thanksgiving to any followers who celebrate!#fic blurb #blurb #atkh blurb #wild post thanksgiving ponies #it was actually crazy how wild all the horses were today #pop was a rock star though he was just like being wild is too much work lol

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cacodaemonia · 7 months ago

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You seem to know a lot about AO3, do you know how to engage more of your readers? I’ve been trying to get comments on my fics but all I get is kudos. I just want to know if people are enjoying my writing

Hi there! I definitely wouldn't say I'm an expert when it comes to AO3, but I find the fandom culture around AO3 to be really interesting, so I do talk about it a lot, haha. I've only been posting works there since 2019, though, and I'm sure folks who have been doing so for longer or have volunteered as tag wranglers or on the policy & abuse committee, for example, would know a lot more than I do. <3

But I'm really sorry to hear that you only get kudos and no comments on your fics! That really sucks. :( Like you said, you have no idea what those people actually think about what you made—just that they consumed it.

Honestly, I'm not sure I'm a good person to ask about getting readers to interact because I post both fanart and fanfics, which isn't super common, at least among people I know. I'm pretty sure that most of the folks who comment on my works followed me from Tumblr to AO3 back when I used to post art here. If I wanted to share nsfw images, I could only post cropped versions of them on Tumblr, so I would sometimes do that and link to the full image over on AO3. I suspect that's a big reason why I even have subscribers on AO3, haha. My writing certainly isn't better than that of plenty of people who also write for very niche ships and don't get as many kind comments as I do.

I also started out in my current fandom making art and writing about more popular characters until I quickly shifted focus when I found some that I like much more 😂 But I'm sure that quite a few people found my stuff because of those old works, and some of them probably stuck around.

Speaking of popular... This isn't something I do because I'm only motivated to make things that I like, but of course, there's always the 'write stuff for popular ships/characters' option. :/ Even now, when I happen to include fan favorites in my fics or art, all kinds of people come out of the woodwork to comment on them. And because I'm a contrary ass, that then makes me not want to create works featuring those ships or characters XD;;; But anyway, that is one option, haha.

A friend recently told me that they started asking little questions in the notes of each chapter of their fics, and that seemed to encourage readers to respond in the comments, so maybe that would be a good thing to try? I haven't tested it, so I can't say.

One thing I have tried that I think has made a difference is adding a blurb in the end notes of my works that I got from @longlivefeedback! They have a great template that you can customize and try out if you like (just make sure to read the bug fix part about curly/smart quotes versus straight quotes, since the curly quotes will kill your html).

One tried and true method to get more people commenting on your fics, of course, is to get to know people who also like the fandom/characters/ships you write about. Read some of their stuff or comment on their art or just chat about headcanons etc. And maybe they'll check out what you wrote.

(My caveat to this would be: do not do this with the sole purpose of getting someone to comment on your fics. I've had plenty of people do this to me, and it was so transparent that they had no interest in me as a person, but just wanted me to draw their OCs or scenes from their fic, or reblog their art, etc. Trying to manipulate someone like that just for your own gain is such gross behavior, and of course, I'm not saying you would do it, but it's common enough that I wanted to mention it 😓)

Okay, unsurprisingly, this got very long and rambling, haha. Sorry I couldn't be more helpful, but I hope you get more folks interested in your writing!

I'd be curious to know if other people have advice for @sonofhighrock! :)

#asks #ao3 #comments #commenting #ao3 comments #interaction #fandom #fandom etiquette #fandom is community not commodity #fan fiction #writing #long live feedback comment project #llf comment project #longlivefeedback #long post #because i'm a windbag

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robinsvoid · 2 years ago

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Ok so its me again and im currently bombarding you with requests but this is one that has been just COMPLETELY taking over my brain atm.

Robin and reader getting into an argument and making up a few days later! And its just all brainrotting fluff and kissing and ugh ;(

༺ ˖࣪ all i need to hear

pairing. robin buckley x f!reader

content warnings. angst! with a happy ending. long post ahead! light makeout session.

note. sorry again for the late reply :sob: i hope u like it anon, i wrote it as fic than a blurb bc i thought it fit hehe

robin is amazing. the sweetest girlfriend you could ever ask for. she takes care of you, makes you happy, and loves you endlessly. you’re always on her mind, just as she is on yours. but it’s hard being together in this predominantly small-minded town, always having to hide your love for each other. you wish you could show the world how incredible she is, how happy she made you. but maybe in another time, you suppose.

and you miss her. even though you see her everyday at school; fleeting gazes during classes you shared with each other, hiding in the corner of the library on different occasions, meeting in the bathroom to share a few secret kisses when no one’s there. but then after school, she gets busy.

it bothers you, how robin seems to have enough time to hang out with everyone but you. she always meets you at lunch, and by your locker right after the last bell, then leaves for band practice and works right after. it’s nice hearing her voice when she calls at night right after she gets off work, but you can’t help but miss her still. you need to see her, be with her, touch her, hold her, kiss her.

luckily, you’ll be able to do all of that tomorrow on saturday before the sun sets, out in some field far from everybody on a picnic blanket you bought at joyce’s store. you had spent days preparing, making all the food robin likes, and cakes, and sandwiches. you couldn’t wait.

that’s why you walk up to robin when she’s packing her things from her locker, after the last bell when everybody rushes out to leave, to tell her all about your excitement. but she looked tired, stressed even, and you wish you could fix it. she’s busy all the time, and you wonder how well she is doing mentally. she also seemed to be rushing a little faster than she usually does, making you wonder what was going on inside her pretty little head.

“hey, rob,” you smile brightly at her, clutching the strap of your backpack a little tighter as she continues to pack, “no band practice? headed to work?”

“uh, no and yes.” she says rather quickly.

robin sighs and turns to look at you, her lips curving into a feeble smile. you looked pretty today, she wishes she could spare a minute to just stare at you, tell you all about how beautiful you are, but she couldn’t. not with the sound of steve’s horn blaring just past the school doors, when it seemed to get louder after each honk.

“is that steve—“

“yeah, we can’t be late to work or else keith’s making us work the morning shifts on the weekend and steve has plans on the weekends and, you know, i won’t get up early on the weekends, so we really have to go now,” robin rubs your shoulder with her hand and smiles. “but i’ll call you later!”

she mouths an ‘i love you’ and quickly rushes past you before you could say anything back. you turn around, slightly troubled, as you watched robin run through the school doors. you see steve in his car, waving briefly at you with a smile before driving off as soon as robin gets in.

a sigh escapes your mouth as you lean against the lockers, already missing your girlfriend’s presence. it’s fine, though, you tell yourself. she’ll call. and you’ll see her tomorrow. everything’s going to be okay.

at least you hoped it would be.

because, well, she didn’t call. it was almost midnight and robin usually calls you before eleven and she didn’t call. you sigh as you lay in bed, still waiting. maybe she fell asleep the moment she got home, because she does that sometimes. and she’ll tell you about it the morning after. that was probably the case.

you fall asleep waiting, shutting your eyes before the clock strikes one. the next morning you wait for her call again.

your phone never rang.

you hoped for the best, assuming that she was preparing for today, maybe she was already on her way to your house, the thought making you jump up from your bed, running down to the kitchen, packing all of the food into a basket your mom bought for you before running back up to dress up and make yourself all pretty for robin.

you do everything with all possible haste, checking the time and deciding that it was still a little bit early. laying in your bed, hoping you don’t mess up your hair too much, you wait and wait. and it was a lot waiting.

where was she? it was already three in the afternoon and it takes a while to get the field. you want to get there before it gets dark, but you also want enough time before the sun sets so that it wouldn’t be as hot as it was at noon. you pick up your telephone and dial her number. she doesn’t answer. where are you, robin?

you spend the next two hours glancing out the window repeatedly, hoping to see robin riding up on her bicycle, fluffy hair ruffled by the wind, a big jacket hanging loosely on her shoulders. but no one was there.

it had gotten partly dark already and your eyes brimmed with tears, threatening to smudge your eyeliner and the rest of your make up. you hated everything you were feeling; lost and dejected and stood up. you decide to get yourself out of your nice clothes and back into your pajamas, wiping all of your make up off afterwards. and just as you were about to get into bed, you hear a some shuffling past your window, then a multiple taps, pebbles clattering against your windowpane.

there was only one person who would do that. and it’s your girlfriend. you see robin looking up at you with a shameful smile, her bicycle laid flat in your lawn, her hair ruffled, her chest rising and falling rather quickly, panting as if she had just ran a mile as fast as she could.

after basically pleading, motioning you to come down, you mustered up all of your courage, still heated from earlier before running down the stairs of your house. stepping out the door, you tugged on your shirt watching as robin reluctantly walked closer. you could tell she had a lot on her mind, a lot of guilt sitting in her chest.

she opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. and you can’t help but bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“why didn’t you call?”

robin flinched slightly at the tone of your voice. it was quiet. faint. like you’ve been crying. and she already knew that after seeing the way your eyes puffed up, nose a little red and stuffy.

“last night. i-it was really, really busy, i don’t know why. it was like the the whole town was in to have movie night or something and i-i got home and i just passed out the second i stepped into my room. i was tired, a-and i meant to call, but i fell asleep first! (y/n), i was just—“

“and this morning?”

robin answered truthfully, fingers playing anxiously with the hem of her denim jacket, “i-i was at work this morning. keith ended up giving us the morning shift anyway and i- i was rushing again earlier, didn’t have the time to call because steve was already in the driveway so—“

“you could’ve called me while you were at work, robin. it only takes a second.”

“i know! i know. i should’ve. (y/n), i’m so sorry i didn’t—“

“then, why didn’t you?” you say slowly, folding your arms and tears threatening to stain your cheeks once again as you watch robin fidget in distress. “you… you forgot, didn’t you?”

robin’s shoulders slump, eyes falling to stare at the cold ground. she didn’t mean to. she remembered before, but she had gotten so busy with work, practice, and everything else, stressing her out daily. her heart breaks as she watches the look on your face. she wants to take it all away from you; to hold you, to make you smile.

“i feel like you never have time for me anymore, robin. we haven’t done anything together in weeks and the day of the date we planned, you don’t show up. do you know how much i miss you? do you even miss me?”

“yes! of course, i miss you. i miss you everyday—“

“but not enough to remember me?”

robin swears she can hear her heart crack as she opens her mouth to speak, voice straining obscurely, “(y/n), please don’t—“

“just go home, robin.” your voice breaks.

and you don’t say anything else. instead, robin watches you rub your face hurriedly, wiping the tears that you didn’t even give the chance to roll down your skin. she watches as you step away from her, flinching softly at the sound of you slamming the front door. and she stands there for a while, just staring up at your window, hoping you would come to watch her leave like you always do.

but you don’t.

so she bikes all the way home, cries all the way home, misses you all the way home. she wants to go back, to see you again, to tell you how much she loves you. and she calls tonight, but you don’t answer. and she calls again, but you don’t answer.

it’s been happening for three days now; you avoid her during class, you pack your things and leave early after school, you don’t pick up the phone. she wonders what it’ll take for you to notice her, to talk to her. she missed you. she’s been missing you. she wants to hear your voice, wants to feel your skin against hers, wants to kiss you. she misses you so dearly. she loves you so dearly.

on the fourth day, you pick up when she calls you after school. it surprised her when the phone stopped ringing, when she was finally able to hear your voice at the other end of the call, leaving her speechless. in fact, you almost ended it when she went on for so long without saying anything.

“can i come over?” she was hesitant, you could tell by the sound of her voice. it was shaky and she talked slow, almost breathlessly.

you sat on your bed, holding the telephone to your ear for a couple moments, thinking about your decision. you missed her, too. dearly. you wanted her with you. even if you were mad at her. it was one of the many reasons you said yes.

robin bikes over in less than twenty minutes, surprisingly, as it usually takes her a little over thirty minutes to get to your house. she knocks on your door with a rhythmic pattern only you know of and gives you no less than a second to react to the hug she pulled you in for, stumbling a couple of clumsy steps into your house. you breathe her in, still hesitant to hug her back, but you can’t help but give in and wrap your arms around her waist. she smelled of grass and flowers and soon, you figure out why when you pull away from her. she held a flimsy bouquet of flowers that she obviously picked out herself, dirt slightly stuck between her fingernails, petals of yellow and white in her hair, and some of the stems were broken, flowers hanging on for their dear life.

“um, i-it’s for you.” robin, stretches her arm out, handing them to you nervously.

“thank you,” you reply. you could feel her hands shaking when you take them from her. “i’ll go put them in the kitchen. and… it’s just me here, so you don’t have to worry about my family...”

it has her in a daze, seeing you walk away. you were still in the clothes you wore to school, no shoes on, hair down. you look pretty. it’s a thought that often resides in robin’s brain, but you really do. you always do. she mindlessly follows you into the kitchen, watching your every movement. but you did everything to avoid her eyes, and it hurt her.

“are you hungry?”

robin’s eyes widen, your voice pulling her out of her daydream. you placed a tiny mug full of the flowers robin picked out for you onto the kitchen table. she stared at you, unable to formulate the words she wanted to say to you, not knowing if she should answer yes or no, questioning all of her decisions like her life depended on it.

“the cake i made you is still in the fridge. i don’t know if it’s as good as it was before but—“

“yeah! i’m hungry.”

and robin eats it all. not caring if she gets sick from eating too much cake. the only thing that mattered to her was the way you tried to hide your smile when you see some of the icing sitting at the top of her nose, the way you shifted to turn away from her, trying to escape from her.

her hand lands on the leg of the chair you sat in right next to her, dragging it across the tile floor, pulling you closer. she then uses it to lace her fingers between yours, bringing your hand up to her mouth, pressing her lips against your knuckles.

“i love you, (y/n).”

your heart pulsed wildly while she continued to press light kisses on your fingers, repeating the three words again and again against your skin as she watches you bite your lip. your eyes welled up rather quickly; the sound of her voice, her name in your mouth.

robin wanted to cry at the sight knowing how much she hurt you. and she hated herself for it. she wished she could reverse the time, do everything over, just so that you wouldn’t feel the pain you were feeling. now, all she could do was hold you, if you let her. tell you how much you mean to her. how sorry she was.

“i-i took the week off. steve said he’ll cover for me. and…i know i’m… i’ve been a pretty shit girlfriend lately. i know how much you were looking forward to our date. how hard you worked for it. all for me to just forget about it like the stupid idiot i am. it really sucks, and i am so, so sorry, (y/n).” robin’s voice trembles as she rubs her thumb against the skin your hand. “you didn’t deserve that. not from me, or anyone. especially not from me. i was just—“

robin stopped herself, not wanting to keep building up lame excuses to help her dig a deeper hole for herself.

“i know you were stressed, rob,” you tell her, staring down at your intertwined hands. “you were just tired and—“

“no. it doesn’t matter because what i did was not okay. i shouldn’t have done that in the first place. seriously, (y/n), what kind of person am i to forget that sort of thing? i’m honestly an idiot. a complete, total idiot,” robin scoffs at herself, free hand running through her hair in exasperation.

your can’t help but give her a weak smile, holding her hand tighter. it had been a while since you held hands, one of your favorite things as it is one of hers. her hands are a little rough, calluses at the palm of her hand, most likely from all that biking she does, and light cuts along her fingertips, probably from when she picked out the flowers.

“you are an idiot,” you mumble.

robin smiles, scooting her chair even closer, hands holding yours even tighter. she brings her face close, and for a moment, you thought she was going to kiss you. instead, she rests her forehead against your shoulder, nuzzling lightly into your neck.

you can feel her breath against your skin and you were almost positive she could feel how fast your pulse was beating at the moment.

“i can… i can kiss you now, right?” robin sighs when you don’t answer, pressing the crook of her nose against your neck, desperate to feel your lips after basically a week away from you. “please?”

you stare up at the ceiling and let out a breath. you missed the way robin felt against you, the way her skin felt against yours, and her lips, and her scent, and her hands, and everything else. you missed robin. you just missed robin.

you nod lightly, hoping she could feel it, but your thoughts clear as soon as she presses a gentle kiss to your collarbone, your eyes fluttering shut almost immediately. it trails up alongside your neck, then underneath your jaw, her lips ending up towards the skin behind your ear. all of her kisses leaving you weak, moaning as quietly as you could. robin absolutely melts when you lean your head slightly, giving her more room to do her work, as she places her free hand underneath your sweater, rubbing at the skin of your waist.

“robbie,” you moan as robin hums into your skin as a reply.

“hmm…”

after long moments of sloppy but delicate kisses, her lips finally lands against your mouth, soft and plump. truthfully, robin’s heart hammers in her chest, butterflies invading the depths of her stomach. when she kisses you… it feels amazing. they’re delicate and caring, always leaving you wanting more.

robin carefully pulls you closer until you’re seated directly in her lap, hands palming at your thighs as yours dig into her shoulders, squeezing tightly. she takes her time, teasing you with her tongue, pulling away briefly to speak against your lips

“i love you,” she pecks your lips, pulling away to say it again. “i love you.”

and she does it again. and again. and again. and again. and again. until you say it back.

“i love you, robin.”

and she wants to cry. so she does. her hands leave your thighs and wraps her arms around your waist, hugging you as tight as she could, shoving her face against your chest, forehead resting on your shoulder. she whimpers when she feels your hands run through her hair, soothing her, comforting her with your soft hands.

you feel robin’s kisses along your neck once again, making you tug her hair lightly, silently warning her to not leave any marks. but she never listens anyway. she kisses your lips again and again as you smile against her, giving her the chance to open her mouth while your copy her movements, until your tongues touch, leaving you moaning at the contact. your tongues slide slowly while you kiss, wet and sloppy. she hums at your reaction, your moans, god, she could do this all day. it’s fucking amazing how good this all feels, how right it feels.

you place a last kiss to her lips, making her pout slightly when you pull away from her, still seated on her lap.

“i’m still mad at you,” you tell her, all the while running your fingertips against her scalp, playing with her hair in a way that made her stomach flutter.

“i know, baby. i’ll make it up to you. i’ll make it up to you, i promise.”

and evidently, she does.

#rv; robin <3 #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley imagine #stranger things x reader #robin buckley x f!reader #blurb #maya hawke #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fluff #angst with a happy ending #st x reader #robin stranger things #fanfic #stranger things smut

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mysticalsoot · 2 years ago

Text

This is it, this is what joy feels like, doesn't it?

A/N: this was meant as my gift to my valentine for Grey's Valentine's Exchange but since it has been cancelled I decided to quickly finish it up and dedicate it to not only grey because they need it with how rough the exchange ended up being but also my new found friend on here! I'm really proud of this and Im very surprised at how much I wrote in such little time (5k is a lot okay lol) I hope you all enjoy it and happy early Valentine's! (I'm still gonna post a special Valentine's blurb!)

Pronouns: they/them, uses of y/n

Pairings: Cc!Wilbur x Reader

Summary: Wilbur and Reader have known each other since their early teens, and despite having painfully obvious feelings for the other, they ignore them in the sake of saving their friendship. James concocts an outing for the two and maybe it goes according to plan?

Warnings: swearing, angst but with a ton of fluff at the end! also there is a kiss but not detailed bc I in fact have never been kissed so I'm going off gut feeling lmao. also mentions of alcohol and drinking (I've also never drunk alcohol so I don't know much about that either so another guessing game there too).

Words: 5.3k

Dedicated to: @grey-rambles @loverboy-soot

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James had invited Wilbur, Ash, Tommy, Rue, and you over to his place to hang out. It was mostly Mario Kart and James fucking screaming the Wario sound, but it was fun. There was food and a few rounds of uno with Ash, Tommy, and Rue, but despite all the festivities, Wilbur hadn't joined in any of them. He sat in the farthest corner from you and the rest of the group, the corner of James' loveseat didn't seem very comfortable anyhow. But there he sat, hands folded and rested between his thighs, his eyes darted from the group to the wall, to the TV, and back to his lap. He seemed so dazed like he wasn't fully there in the moment like he was somewhere else.

The absence of his laugh and his smile...and his voice, concerned you. It wasn't like him to isolate himself like this, it was one thing to stop answering messages and hiding in his flat but straight out isolating himself at a social gathering was nothing like him. You wanted to find him in his corner, bring him away from the others and ask him what was wrong, what you did every time he found himself anxious and shutting down. But every time you tried someone would pull you away, ask questions or bring you into banter. Staring at him, contemplating doing something wasn't helpful so maybe engulfing yourself in the festivities around you would help. It was selfish, yes, but there wasn't much you could do. The chances of him brushing it off and saying he was fine and completely ignoring the subject at hand were much more probable than him stepping aside and delving into his anxieties with you. So you pushed it aside and focused on whatever shit James and Tommy were debating about at this point.

“James,” Tommy pauses for emphasis, his hands folded in front of his face and eyes closed, “You are one deaf fucking bastard.”

“I’m hearing you! I’m just saying your point is invalid and ill-informed!” James counters, despite the possible hostility of their bickering, it's known by everyone that it's just light-hearted poking and prodding at each other, nothing substantial to be worried about.

Something you could slip away from easily…

“Says the man who is convinced that the creeper is the elite hostile mob in Minecraft?? It blows shit up and is extremely difficult to kill at the start of the game! The true elite mob is the zombie, they are slow and easy to hit.” Tommy then stands up and his face plastered with a smug smile. He knows he's right even if the topic at hand is trivial and childish at best.

"You're an asshole, Thomas Simons. I'm right, you're wrong." James is quick to poke at him, and you catch a small, soft smile forming on Wilbur's features. He's gazing at the chaos in front of you, no longer on his jeans or the spots on the wall. It's on the people now. His friends.

The thought brings a glimpse of hope to you, maybe it's just a fluke and he's okay. Nothing to worry about, he's not being self-destructive right now. It's okay.

It wouldn't hurt to get him to join the conversation, would it? "What do you think, Wil? Who's the most elite hostile mob?" You pose the question with a smile on your face, eyes locked on his, gauging how he was feeling by the way his eyes went wide and his mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. Anxious, noted, not anything new and revolutionary but something to note when speaking to him.

"Um, Skeletons I guess?" His answer is unsure and it's probably because he wasn't really listening in the first place, just observing his friends having fun and bickering, doing anything he can to keep his mind off the anxiety dwelling in his head.

“Skeletons? That is the most basic bitch answer! Also, it’s invalid because they can shoot you from sixteen blocks away!” Tommy counters his answer and he gets riled up again, rushing to pull up some sort of resource list as if this was a school assignment.

Wilbur’s face drops again, but his eyes are still trained on the group as they begin bickering again. Rur and Ash decided to chime in this time, both with their own very opinionated thoughts on the matter. It began to get tenser, despite the laughs and smiles, the abrupt yells were enough to push anyone already on edge even further.

It was best to get him out of there, even if it was for a moment. So you stood from your spot at the sofa to walk over to where Wilbur placed himself. Pushed into the corner of the loveseat farthest from the group. Now that you're closer, you notice how straight he's sat, his whole body is tense and his face is flushed.

You put your hand out to him, an offering, “Come on, Wil,” It’s muttered as a mere whisper, but he hears it. His head tilts up to look at you, eyes still wide and overflowing with unease.

“Okay,” He whispers, taking your hand in his and standing up from his own spot. His shoulders slouch, making him seem slightly shorter --- he still towers over you, but it makes him seem vulnerable and small.

You tighten your grip on his hand, in a comforting way and lead him out of the living room, through the hall, and into the dark kitchen. No one seems to notice the absence of either of you, they're too busy arguing over a block game to think about much else. He lets your hand go after the door is closed and he goes to sit on the floor in the corner of the room against the kitchen cabinets. Wil pulls his knees up to meet his chin and he wraps his arms around his legs.

“Are you okay?” You slide down the cabinet to sit next to him, your hand resting on his knee drawing circles with your thumb.

“Mmm, ‘m fine.” He mumbles, his head between his knees and his face hidden.

“As your best friend, I do not believe that.” You try to lighten the mood, be playful in hopes he’ll at least crack a smile.

“I’m fine.” He lifts his head and looks to you, despite how hard he tries it's not convincing.

“Yeah, yeah, and the queen’s alive. Come on, Wil.” You laugh, moving to card through the curls atop his head.

"I'm okay." He tries to fake a smile to rid your concerns but it's not that easy anymore.

"You don't have to tell me, but you can admit when you're not okay, love." The pet name was merely a slip for you and when you noticed you used it, you wanted to crawl into yourself. Hideaway and forget everything you said. Surely to others, it's not a big deal but it's not like you can give any hint at your feelings for him, feelings you know aren't reciprocated.

He simply hums in response with his head back between his knees, and you take your hand away from his hair and drop it on your lap. You want to help him, make him feel better but this is making you feel so hopeless. You can't let him wallow but he's stubborn, it's not easy to get through his shell.

"Wanna tell me about the French Revolution?" The question was merely a suggestion, a bribe to get him to speak in more than two words per sentence.

And it worked, his head lifted up almost immediately and his eyes were wide with excitement, "Really? Are you sure?" His voice is soft but you can practically hear the joy in the way he spoke.

"Of course, tell me all about it." As you mutter the last bit, you lean your head against the cabinet and gaze up at him. His smile is wide and he's now let his knees fall to where his legs are stretched out in front of him. Stupid lanky bastard.

"Okay so, the revolution of 1789 had maaany different causes, primarily economical and political," And so he went on for what felt like hours, but you enjoyed the chatter. You liked seeing him so giddy and happy over something he loved like this. He's an absolute history buff and most people don't care to sit still long enough to listen, except for his brother, you, and sometimes Ash. So you let him talk your ear off, you asked questions, and let him tell you all the little details and factoids he's learned over the years.

After a while, your eyes began to droop and feel heavy, and you kept having to pull your head back up to keep yourself awake. So you settled with resting your head on Wilbur's shoulder as he continued telling you about one of the many corrupt French kings. You wrapped your left arm around his middle and your right hand rested on the shoulder you laid on. You were comfortable and he didn't seem to mind the contact.

"Sleepy?" He breaks his info dump and runs his hands through your hair. You were far too drowsy to think twice about the action or to get nervous about it as usual, so you just hummed and nuzzled further into him.

"Keep talking." Your words were muffled by his sweater but he understood, and so he did just that. He continued on about the revolution and everything that came after before he himself began to doze off. His head leaned against yours and before he knew it, he was passed out too.

----

"Hey, has anyone seen Wilbur?" James chimed in, the Lion King plays on the TV, and everyone groans, and Tommy pauses the movie.

"Dude, it was the best part!" Tommy exclaims and dramatically throws his head onto the back of the couch.

"Sorry! Wil just disappeared, so I was just wondering if anyone saw him." James reiterates, hands in the air in surrender before dropping them to the floor on either side of himself.

"I'm sure the guy's fine, he's probably somewhere with his best friend anyways," Rue reassures James, her arms crossing over her chest.

"Those two are inseparable," Ash adds.

"And they are so obvious too! It's annoying." Tommy grunts in that typical little sibling way.

James frowns, clearly not satisfied with how calm and not worried his friends are. Ash notices and pats his friend on the back, and James' shoulders slump.

"Dude if you're so worried about them, go find them." Rue leans against the back of the couch, crossing her ankles and resting them on the coffee table. James growls and shoves her feet off the table, Rue then rolls her eyes. "So mean.."

“Fine, I will.” James groans and lifts himself off the floor where he sat and he as well makes his way out of the living room. He heads through the hall, peaking into the dining room; nothing. He checks the guest bed next, also nothing; and then his office, still nothing. He checks every room before he settles on checking the kitchen- the last spot he expected to look. The moment he peaks his head through the door he catches a glimpse of both you and Wilbur cuddled against each other, sound asleep.

“Aww, cute,” Rue whispers behind James and he jumps, yelling a slew of curses at his friend. She simply laughs in response. James looks back to be sure the interaction didn't wake the two of you, and surely it didn't. He would have never been so thankful for how heavy of sleepers you two were.

James backs away from the door, being sure to close it as slowly and quietly as possible, and then he ushers Rue down the hall and back to the sitting room where the rest of their friends were. He then happily plops down onto his sofa, right next to Tommy.

“So, are they okay?” Ash’s expression is one of concern, but calm still.

“Oh they're fine,” James takes a swig of the drink he left on the coffee table, “But we have some matchmaking to do.”

----

“We’re meeting at the pub around the corner, that's right, James?” The entire situation is confusing and getting a confirmation out of James is the worst hell that you desperately want to crawl out of.

"Yes, yes, that pub. I told you like ten times already." James sighs in a loud obnoxious way and if it weren't for the fact you loved him, he would be dead on sight. Or on sight when you both got to the damn pub.

"It's not my fault you give shitty instructions and clarification!" You do your best to whisper yell through the phone, he may annoy the fuck out of you but you don't hate him, and if he lost his hearing because of you—you couldn't mess with him.

"Oh my god, stop whining and get your ass over here." You're about to snap back at him and then he hangs up just as quickly as the words roll off his tongue.

You groan and drag your feet on the sidewalk, desperate to make your trek longer so you can postpone seeing James a little more. I mean, you love him but fuck can he be an annoying little shit sometimes. He's really good at it too and you don't know how he manages it.

Unfortunately, you're in front of the pub way quicker than you thought you would be. You're quick to open the door, and rush in before you push through the crowd to find any inkling of where your friends have situated themselves. James didn't mention which table the rest of their friends sat at, so you assumed he didn't know either seeing as he was on his way here as well.

You're about to give up when you spot a familiar Pinterest hipster across the pub. Wilbur is sat alone at a booth, holding what seems to be a simple water as he himself eyes the tables and bar as well as the sea of people standing around the place.

You smile and wave your hand at him, signaling that you're there. He smiles too, waving back and then gesturing for you to sit with him. You're quick to shuffle through the people surrounding you, muttering excuse me and I'm sorry's whenever you bump into someone or get just a hair too close to them. By the time you reach the booth, you're out of breath from swimming through the crowd. You plop down on the spot next to Wil and you rest your head face first on the table.

"Why is James so annoying?" You pose the question, all muffled and not really meant to be answered, simply spoken into the void.

"Hell if I know, he told me the rest of the group was here but I couldn't find them." Wilbur speaks in such a nonchalant way that you would think he did this often, wait for his friends to be there and either be late or not come at all. But you know he doesn't do this often, I mean it was more common in middle school and high school, but now he's an adult and you know his current friends wouldn't do that. I mean you're his best friend after all, you notice way more about him than you would care to notice.

"So you think they've ditched us?" You move your head to face him, eyes looking up to him and his own looking down at you. You swear you could see a smile forming on his lips.

"Hah, maybe." He laughs and then switches to gaze at his hands resting in his lap.

You lift your head up, and lean against the back of the booth. You rest a hand on his shoulder and he looks to you, "You're my favorite anyway." You pat his shoulder before removing your hand only for it to find great interest in the sleeves of the jacket you wore out today. One of Wilbur's old jackets his arms were too long for. It's oversized but it's comfortable and a hundred percent smells like him, so it's comforting.

"Ash isn't even your favorite?" He's smirking now and you can tell he's almost completely forgotten about James and the clan.

"He's a close second." You throw a soft smile to him and you can feel your cheeks warm and turn red.

———

"Wow, France is fucking shitty." You let out a soft laugh, taking a sip of whatever alcoholic beverage was the special—you didn't care, it tasted good and didn't burn horribly so it did just fine for you.

"I know!" Wilbur slurs and then laughs, throwing his head back to lean against the back of the booth. He turns to face you, smile wide and face pink from being a bit too tipsy.

"You're smart, Wil. You know that?" You rest your chin in your hand and look in his eyes. You never really noticed how rich and…deep they were. It was endearing to look at.

"Not really, I just know a lot." He shrugs, gaze dropping and face draining from positivity.

"Isn't that the definition of smart?" You reach your hand out to rest against his arm. He doesn't move or flinch. It's like your touch is second nature.

There's a silence, he doesn't say anything, you don't say anything. Your friends still aren't here and it's been an hour and a few drinks in—you're beginning to wonder what James' intentions were.

"They ditched us didn't they?" You lean your own head against the backboard.

"Oh they sure as hell did." Wilbur lets out a soft chuckle and the sight makes your heart flutter.

"Wanna go back to mine?" The question is simple and you play with the idea of looking away from him, to dull the sting if he says no—or rejects you without even admitting anything to him—but you decide to turn your head and gaze upwards at him.

A soft smile, a breathy laugh, he turns his head to face you, "Of course,"

It takes a good twenty minutes to get back to your flat, which is only a ten minute walk from the pub James tricked the two of you to go into, but with both of your slighter drunken states, it was safe to say it took a lot longer. Stumbling, giggling, slurred speech, a hand on the small of your back, your arm around his torso. There was no such thing as a ten minute walk on your minds.

The walk down the cobble path to the door of your flat is a tricky one. Wilbur only had a few shots but he hadn't been drinking in a while so his ability to handle much alcohol was severely lacking at the moment—so he was stumbling a lot. He nearly fell in the bush a few times but you were able to keep your grip on him, keeping him steady. You yourself weren't in the best of shape either, but you managed. Surprisingly neither of you had felt the least bit nauseous yet, which was a tremendous thing.

You struggled a few moments with your keys before Wilbur got off the wall where he leaned and said, "Here, lemme try." He was quick to find the right key and turn it in the keyhole. The door clicked and Wilbur turned the door knob and pushed it open. He stepped aside and bowed, his right arm over his stomach and his left out stretched in a gentlemanly manner. "Royalty first, as always." You smile and are sure your laugh is heard by the man.

"Why, thank you kind sir!" You exclaim, folding your hands like a queen in a ball gown and dramatically walk in the door. He laughs and follows you in, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You lead him to the living room just to the left in the corridor and curl up on the couch and shove your shoes off your feet. Wilbur follows and does the same, his head next to yours and his legs curled up next to him.

"Hi," He whispers to you, smiling softly and gaze set up on you.

"Hi," you pause, readjusting your legs to be held against your chest. "I'll take the couch, you take the bed, that cool?" Your eyelids begin to feel heavy and so you rest them, unable to spot the reaction Wilbur gave you.

"No, not cool." He states plainly, your eyes shoot open. Did you upset him? What did you say wrong? Your mind runs wild and he seems to notice your anxiety bubbling. Your slightly tipsy self, not doing a great job at hiding it. "I take the couch, you take the bed."

"No, you take the bed, I take the couch."

"Darling," He warns and the pet name shocks you both, and it seems as though the alcohol has an effect on both of your filters, his and yours.

"I said what I said and I stand by it!" You cross your arms over your chest and playfully move to look away from him.

He groans in an artificial annoyance and you smile to yourself.

"How about this," He begins and you turn back to face him, he's sat up now, legs pulled up to his chest still. "We both take the bed? That way we both win."

"Mmm, as long as you're okay with it, I am."

Wilbur smiles and nods, "It was my brilliant idea, now wasn't it?" A smirk forms.

"Goddamn, you and your stupid ego." You roll your eyes and Wilbur huffs.

"Oh shut it." He snaps back, going to stand and walk out the door and across the hall to the bedroom. You follow him and quickly go to the cupboard on the left beside the door. Your bed is prepared to warm one person, not two, so you need extra blankets and maybe another pillow or two.

"Dude, when's the last time we shared a bed?" You break the silence, chuckling to yourself as you hear Wilbur shuffle around the bathroom—presumably to find his old toothbrush he left at your place that one time he stayed for a week six months ago.

"Like the last time I stumbled to your door drunk as fuck?" He sighs before exclaiming an Aha presumably because he found the toothbrush he was looking for.

"You really need to stop drinking that much, especially alone. I'm not always gonna be here to be a pick me up for your sorry ass." You throw the blankets you pulled out onto the bed and jumped in face first. "So comfy." It's meant as a whisper, but Wilbur manages to pick it up.

"Save some blankets for me, meanie." He turns on the faucet and he's then silent for a moment before the sound of brushing sounds from the bathroom.

"No, they're mine. I bought them with my money, dickwad." You grunt and turn over, wrapping yourself in a little blanket cacoon.

Wilbur lets out a laugh, and the faucet sounds again before the tapping of the toothbrush on the side of the sink. Before you know it, the other side of the bed dips and you feel a blanket being snatched from you. You don't have the energy to fight it, so you let it go.

"Wow, my best friend being generous to me? What world do we live in.." He mutters, laughing more to himself than anything.

"Too tired to care."

"Not because you love me? Oh my heart!" He dramatically clutches his heart and lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Only because tired." Your words become more slurred and they're muffled by the pillow you have your face in.

"Yeah, yeah." He sighs, and then tosses around a few times, getting comfortable. The bed creaks with his every move and you can hear him groan in annoyance at the sound.

The creaking stops, and Wilbur stops moving. He's situated now, but he's on his back staring at the ceiling.

Many thoughts run through his mind but one in particular stands out; Should I tell them?

The concept is foreign, expressing undiscussed emotion that could be detrimental information if provided at the wrong time—it's scary. What is he meant to do? Lye around and pretend he didn't get nervous at your touch, or your pet names or the way you willingly am letting him sleep next to you—and while the latter wasn't unusual in the past, it was now, given the two of you being in your early 20s and having been avoiding sleepovers since you turned 18. Although there was only so much you could do when Wilbur came stumbling to your door pissed out of his mind.

He bit the bullet. What's the worst that could happen? A Lot actually.

But he figured he should give context first, background.

"Do you know why I was sulking that day at James'?" He breaks the comforting silence that fell between you two. He doesn't mind it but he figured he must act now before he chickens out.

"I figured you were just having a bad day, and once I offered a France info dump you seemed pretty okay. Was there something I missed?" You turn your head back to face him, eyebrows knitted in genuine—sober—concern.

"I was upset," He pauses, beginning to place the pieces in his mind of what to say next and then after that and then after that and so on. "It's kind of stupid, I guess-"

You cut him off, "Nothing, and I mean nothing you say is stupid, Wil. I promise." You're sitting up now, crisscrossing applesauce on the bed, your body facing him but your eyes trained on his own eyes. "What was wrong?"

He closes his eyes, "I guess, I was getting sort of fed up with myself. See, I really really like this person—" He pauses to sit up himself, he gazes down at you as he leans his back against the wall. He reaches for your hand and draws circles on your palm with his thumb, his eyes painfully focused on the lines drawn in your skin. "They're wonderful, and one of my closest friends. I've liked them for a long while, love them even but a part of me knows they don't reciprocate my feelings—so I was feeling sorry for myself. It had been years and no moves had been made and so I felt hopeless. That person was so happy that day, and I was pissed I wasn't the reason for their smile." He sighs, letting go over your hand and leaning against the headboard, eyes closed shut.

Your voice is but a whisper, "Who is this mystery person?"

He hesitates for a moment, but he's this far already, there isn't any going back.

"You." The answer is simple, straightforward and blunt but it hits you hard nonetheless. Handfuls of emotion are thrown at you like confetti and you can't even begin to sift through and identify them all. You're in shock, that's for sure, but everything else? There's no telling.

You smack his shoulder, "William! You should have said sooner, you asshole!" Your tone is playful but your words would say otherwise. Elated.

"Ouch! What was that for?" He rubs the side of his arm, wincing for a split second before meeting your eyes.

"Not telling me." Frustration.

Silence, no more words slip from either of your tongues. It's simply quiet, the humming of the fan you set up hours ago, sirens sounding outside in the city —your breathing, his breathing. Fear.

"I like you too, you know." You look down, despite him already confessing to you, admitting this is still terrifying, and odd to you.

"Oh, I know." He smiles, and you mentally smack yourself for saying something you know would get some stupid snarky comment.

"You and your damn ego, Soot." You shake your head, smiling fondly at him.

"Oh but don't you love my ego, my dear?" The man is still tipsy.

"Hey, why don't you shut up?" He smirks, and you immediately regret your words, well, partially — he reaches his hand up to rest on your cheek, and he brings your face closer to his, lips millimeters apart and breath fanning on each other's faces.

"Can I?" It's a simple request but you nod, smiling whilst your heart warms. He leans in closer, your own lips meeting his in a soft loving exchange.

You smile into the kiss, giggling a few times throughout. You rest your hands on the back of his neck and his own hands fall to rest on your sides.

It's not as dramatic as you imagined, figuring if he felt the same he would have some grand confession —but you like this, you really do. It's calm, private—it's tremendously better than a heated confession in the rain, at least in your opinion.

You both break apart, smiles wide as ever and you're out of breath. You lurch forward, wrapping your arms around him and your head hitting his chest, settling into him. It takes him a moment to reciprocate but when he does, his own arms snake around you, pulling you closer to him.

Wilbur's head dips down to rest on top of yours and you hum happily. This is it, this is what joy feels like, doesn't it? Warm arms around you, the sound of his beating heart—he starts to hum, what sounds like one of his songs.

The night goes on like this, the two of you wrapped around each other, Wilbur humming songs he knows or wrote and the occasional comment on how long it took you two, followed by laughter.

This was joy, he was joy.

The next day, you awoke to your phone buzzing like no tomorrow. You were groggy and really didn't want to even bother looking, but the sound managed to send you into a slight panic. Your legs were still wrapped with Wilbur's, and his head was resting on your chest and his stupidly long arms were pulling you into him. You looked over at the end table on your left and snuck your phone into your grip.

You groaned as you pressed answer on the incoming call that created your woken state. It was James.

"What do you want, James? It's 2am." Your tone is that of a very annoyed person, and James winces over the call.

"I hadn't heard from you and Wilbur's not answering his phone or his door, so I figured you two ran off and died." His words all jumbled together and you laugh much to his distaste, "Be serious here!"

"We should've run off, honestly. Maybe we would have gotten some peace and quiet then." You set your gaze down at the man with his arms around you, and you smiles sweetly.

"You're a dick—are you two okay? Do I need to send like a police force or something?" James is still frantic with how he speaks but you can tell he's calming down by the second.

"We're fine James, okay? We're at my place. We drank a little last night and my apartment was the closest." You pause, but before he can get a word in, "Thank you for setting us up." There's a smirk on your face and James can hear it in the way you spoke.

"What—I, I didn't set you up!" He's quick to his defense and you laugh.

"Yeah, no you definitely did."

"Did it work?" He asks, ditching the defensive attitude from the moment prior.

"Yeah, yeah it did. Thank you." You lean your head back, phone still pressed to your ear and your free hand carding through Wilbur's mop of curls.

"Good."

#cc!wilbur #cc!wilbur x reader #dsmp wilbur #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x y/n #happy (much early) valentines day!

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