bed bug hickies - wilbur soot x male!reader

twenty-two

late christmas present for you gay people 

aaaaaaaaaa its my fanfic and i can edit the events of real life events to be whenever i want :D

i know nothing ab england geography so lets pretend i know i do

cw: none

/

"We are not playing monopoly."

Tommy frowns, making a whining noise in response. (y/n) waves him off with a flick of his hand.

"You cheat."

"Me, the Tommyinnit, doesn't need to cheat at monopoly." Tommy declares, handing (y/n) the dirty plate.

"Uh uh, does the Tommyinnit want a cake?" Wilbur says, barging into the kitchen.

(y/n) turns and smiles at him. Wilbur had run to the store to grab a few things but in his hands there was a small chocolate cake from the store.

"Why the cake?" (y/n) asked, setting the clean plate into the drying rack. Tommy leaves his side to go investigate and (y/n) snorts at his brother's weird antics when trying to grab the cake from the taller boy.

"I mean I can't taste it but Thomas here kept whining about me only having ice cream in the deep freeze yesterday." Wilbur explains, finally handing the cake to the teen who grabs it excitedly.

(y/n) nods, turning the hot water off and drying his hands. Wilbur walks over, kissing his forehead.

Tommy makes a gagging noise at the soft display, shoving a handful of cake into his mouth as retribution.

"Disgusting gremlin child." Wilbur says and (y/n) hums in agreement. Tommy only flips them off, adding another handful into his frosting colored mouth.

-

Wilbur hears the click of the camera before he sees the flash.

Him and (y/n) are on a date, at a little Italian restaurant they had started frequenting at George's request. It was supposed to be a nice evening, dinner then heading to the frozen yogurt place down the block since dessert at the restaurant was stupid expensive.

Instead, Wilbur is currently scanning the small crowd in the restaurant for the assailant that just took a photo of him and (y/n).

(y/n) frowns at Wilbur, taking a bite of his pasta dish. "Will, it's fine."

"It's not." Wilbur says for the fifth time. "It's an invasion of our privacy."

(y/n) sighes. "Will, I know it bugs you, it bugs me too, but we can't go on a rampage in the restaurant. People unfortunately will take photos of us without our consent and that's just how it works."

Wilbur's frown deepens at (y/n)'s casual acceptance. "So I'm just supposed to not let it bother me?"

(y/n) shakes his head. "That's not what I said."

"It's what you implied, (y/n)." Wilbur retorts, pushing his near empty plate away from him. He takes a sip of the wine in front of him.

"Now you're just making shit up." (y/n) says, stabbing at his pasta, looking annoyed at their continued row. It's not the first time this argument had popped up in the last few days.

Wilbur doesn't really feel like rehashing this fight, again, so he doesn't reply, taking another sip of his wine.

They fall into an awkward silence, both upset yet not wanting to make a scene. They pay the bill eventually, going in the warm spring air before Wilbur speaks again.