. ˚₊ 🪀꒱ c!wilbur soot (l'manbur) x gn!reader
summary: with eret's betrayal and his country half gone— wilbur's at his wit's end: until he receives comfort from a person he never thought he'd ever see again.word count: 4.2kwarnings: hurt/comfort themes, mentions of death, tiny mention of blood, (sewing)needles.
WHEN Wilbur was merely a child, he dreamed only of happiness through his adult life. Whilst people around him wished for vast sums of wealth or materialistic things, the young brunette was always sure that the idea of being fulfilled in life by said emotion was everything he needed.
He never saw himself owning a small country— But then again, he never thought he'd ever meet someone as sweet as you. Wilbur saw the world in colours the rainbow would be envious of, and for a brief moment: He believed he'd found his childhood wish.
A lost traveller was all you had to your name in terms of a title when you had stumbled upon the growing nation, watching walls of stone rise around a plain of land that was quaint at best.
Who were you to judge— They'd fed you and given you a home, speaking with such great admiration about the man that had provided for them too. Naturally it made you curious, and waiting for him to return home from a trip he had taken became an annoyance as you sat with anticipation to meet him.
"He's home—" The young blonde had said from beside you, legs stretching to run out of the small tents they had inhabited in. The gesture had made you giggle, following the boy much slower as you emerged from the tent to see him hugging the waist of a brunette man.
His eyes had shifted to you immediately, the adoring grin he held towards the boy considered his younger brother now wiped from his face as he looks you over. His lips are parted in awe: You always remembered that expression clearly. He was beautiful in such a raw way: It made you believe that some things could be born just incredibly wonderful.
"Tommy—" He scolds the boy who's still clinging to his body with the cheesiest of grins, shaking him off as he steps closer to you with such curiosity glinted in his eyes. "Who do we have here?"
"Y/N." You had managed through giggles, watching Tommy sulk from being ignored by his idol. It takes only a second to let your eyes wander the span of his body, easily picking up the small tear in his clothing. "You have a hole in your jacket, I can sew that up— I hope that's okay with you, mister president?"
Wilbur's face lit up into the most heartfelt grin he had ever mustered, bottom lip pulled between his teeth ever so slightly at the adoring nickname you had given him: One which he imagined you would hold onto until he was too old to bear the name, perhaps even after that.
"President? My dear— I'm hardly that." He chuckles alongside his words, your brows furrowing at how humble the man was being. "I just look after these people."
You smirked, watching his lips curl into a similar sort of expression. "We'll see about that..." You trail off for a moment, his eyes lighting up at the realisation of what you're after.
"Wilbur." His name had rolled off his tongue with such delicacy, it became evident it was a name you would never forget. "Wilbur Soot. And yes— You can repair my jacket, if you wish so."
"President Soot... I look forward to being a part of your nation."
Although your meeting was a moment that Wilbur often treasured in his head on nights he found it hard to relax, it was your goodbye that haunted his mind more often.
