𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲| Wilbur Soot x Reader ✔︎

xx

Wilbur looks to the nicotine with relief, not having had a puff of the dangerous nectar since he came to the afterlife from his... prior business.

"Yes, please," He holds his hand out for the stick and the man sees some eye-catching bold-red words written across Wilburs palms.

"Got someone back home waiting up for ya?"

The man debates on wether to answer honestly or not, but in the end decides upon the truth. "Yeah, she's— well she's flat out pissed with me, to be honest."

The stranger nods, handing over the cigarette. Wilbur puts it to his lips, allowing the man to light it for him with a lighter from his pocket.

A long drag later and he's next to the guy talking, expressing how y/n and him had been struggling since they met.

"Sounds like she's a bit of a bitch."

The final word hits Wilbur, and he raises a brow to the bold vocabulary. "No, definitely not. She's so nice... and gentle— oh, and if you watch close enough, when she zones out, her eyes cross; she likes to make breakfast too, something about starting the day right, and her hugs are so nice—"

But the stranger remains persistent in his thoughts. "I had a soulmate once, all she ever did was nag. Don't do this, don't do that, I know what's best for you, let me do this— I got so sick of it."

Wilbur grows curious, wondering when this conversation turned into something deeper and darker.

"So I did what many do when they're fed up with their soulmate, I cut my marking off."

Soot's eyes widen and he looks over in pure shock. "You actually did it?!"

The man nods, taking another drag from his own cigarette. "And I'm so damn happy I did. That little bitch Georgia had it coming for her. Dammit, all she did was burden me everyday. So when I cut my marking off, of course she left me."

Yet despite everything that was said, an eyebrow was raised with a hunger for more. "Why would she leave you so easily if you only took your marking off?"

The stranger looks to Wilbur in confusion. "The fuck you talking about? It's taboo; like how emotionally damaging your soulmate is bad, ripping off a marking is the equivalent of divorcing your spouse by throwing a ring down their throat."

Wilbur simply nods, taking in the new information; he never did question y/n much about the whole soulmate thing. He didn't even know if there were basic rules or laws to abide by.

"You could take yours off if that little bitch of a woman is getting on your nerves, you know."

This time, Wilbur seems to get irked, having already warned him about the words said in reference to his woman. "Sir, I told you she's perfect; and she isn't a bitch, don't call her that again."

"Why? You gonna cry about it? Listen kid, all this soulmate shit is dumb. It's like taking your ability to love freely away. No one ever likes their soulmate, it just isn't common enough. An entire nation of people and all we can do is pine after the person our hearts are destined for? Talk about some government ruled bullshit."

There's a small pause before the stranger continues, feeling as if he was on a role with the statements he was enforcing.

"And that little tramp you call your girl ain't worth a damn. You met her one day and forced yourself to fall in love. She don't even know what you're worth, her shit ass kicked you to the curb did she not? You say the two of you got in a fight, and now you're here; must be the woman."

Wilbur is quiet for a moment, thinking about the words government... and freedom... and then shit ass... and then tramp...

"Don't talk about her like that," He warns, towering over the man with some height difference. Six foot five versus five foot ten.

The man pulls out a sudden switch blade upon feeling threatened, holding it towards wilburs lengthy body. "What? You tryna get an attitude, kid?"

The knife being pointed to his stomach makes Wilbur freeze, and he has to stop himself from falling. The flashbacks of what he'd asked his father to do hitting him hard. "Get that thing away from me."

The stranger waves it around a bit, smirk growing. "What? You scared now? I thought you were tough. How's about you try this on for size?"

A fist pulls back, slamming itself into Wilburs face, sending the man tumbling as he tries to keep balance.

Wilbur reaches up, feeling the blood starting to drip from his nose, the very sight of it making his pupils dilate.

He slowly lowers his fingers, clenching his fists a bit to crack the knuckles, rolling his neck as blood dripped from his nose down his lip.

"So you wanna fight?"

☁︎︎

Vote?
Comment?
Follow?

Wilbur with no mental stability in a fight, whatever will he do?!