Clicked (YAN!DSMP x fallen angel reader)

Chapter 14

Sitting on her bed, she reflected on the day.

 The suit that was gifted to her was left in his office, as well as him as she walked home afterwards. Quietly walking on the trail back to her home. 

Then, sat on her bed in silence.

 She felt like she was cheating on Wilbur and Tommy, even though she was doing nothing wrong.

 She simply befriended someone running, and now he's making future plans for her in her own nation.

 It's not like she's going to vote for him, she was continuing her plan. She still believed someone new in office would make l'manberg crumble. 

But she felt like whatever step she took, whatever move she made, nothing would ever be perfect. 

Not the nation, not the sky, not the lands, not the mobs, not the people, 

and not her. 

She swallowed the saliva in her mouth, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at the ground. Walking to her desk, she grabbed a piece of paper and a quill, dipping it in ink before beginning to write

Dear Fundy,

I've been unsure about the thought of this election ever since the start. 

But now seeing everyone divided and unsure about the future only makes this feeling inside me worsen. 

We have to make Wilbur and Tommy win, for the sake of everything we worked for. Your the

A knock sounded from her door, making her head shoot up from the world she was getting lost writing in and standing up.

 She walked out of her bedroom, descending the staircase and headed to her front door.

 Opening it, she was met with a familiar face.

 Wilbur was there, his eyes looked tired and heavy, messy and disheveled from a day's work.

 "Wilbur? What are you doing here-" She was cut off by him closing the door, and an abrupt and sudden hug from him, wrapping his arms around her and burying his head in the crook of her neck. 

He was bent down a little for ease, and his tense muscles seemed to relax at the contact from him and the girl. 

She took a moment before slowly returning the hug, him practically shivering. 

To him the outside world was freezing, dead and empty. 

And he was cold. 

Until she was near, like a hot fireplace. 

A warm jacket, a blanket to sleep under. 

And he was finally warming up. 

She slowly rubbed his back, unaware of what was bothering him but comforting him anyway. He'll talk in his own time, there was no pressure to tell her right away. She'll be content with waiting until he feels comfortable.

 "C'mon big guy, let's get you to the couch.." She mutters out, squished. 

She waddled over to the couch slowly with Wilbur still on her like a koala, then finally reaching the couch and flopping down on it. 

They were laying sideways, Wilbur flopped on top of name like a fish with his head still in the crook of her neck. His legs spilled off of the couch unnoticed to him, making it so he was like a blanket for {Name} who simply just laid there. 

Her hand was in his hair, slowly playing with it like her mother used to when she was upset, waiting until he was ready to explain himself. 

He was just basking in the moment, the feeling on her hands in his hair felt like warm water cleansing his skin. 

He felt like his sins were forgiven when she was with him. 

Oh god, what have you created? 

You let such a beautiful thing fall such a long way. 

Maybe she was for him? 

God knew she made him feel whole like no one else, god knew that he would crumble without her right there by his side. 

She was made for him. 

She was his. 

"Hey, you alright?" She asked him, just looking up at the ceiling. He whined in response, just telling her to leave him in the moment.

 The vibration of his voice on her shoulder sent a tingle down her spine, shivering in response.

 He tightened his arms around her possessively, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

 Yes... yes!

  His!

Not dreams, not Schlatts, not anybody's! 

His! 

She was made for him!

 Does anybody share their presents?

 I don't think so, so why does he have to? 

He doesn't want to share. 

He never has, never would either. 

His fingers dough into her clothing, sharp uncut nails creating pressure where he chose. His arms felt like a cage, his aroma felt suffocating. 

She could see his soul dimming. 

The once passionate, revolutionary, and justified president was slowly cracking. 

And she was watching it all go down. 

His thoughts slowly calmed down, now moving on to her angelic form. He remembered the antlers in her head, beautiful and dark. 

"When you are in your angelic form why do you have antlers?" He asked looking up into her eyes, as she looked into his. 

Their faces were a mere five inches apart, and for the first time eye level

. She could finally get a good look into those black cat eyes. 

Brown eyes suited him, soft and meaningful yet deep and looming. 

But by each day the eyes she once saw before dissipated, and that black cat dangled farther and farther off the fence. 

"Well.. they were supposed to represent a deer! Because like im all soft and shit but i'll go running at you and hit your car in the middle of the night!"

 Wilbur looked at her funny, tilting his head. 

"What's a car?" 

"AHA sorry! Second world joke.." 

She laughed a bit, Wilbur just resting his head on her collarbone.

 He felt his eyes slowly droop, the warmth they shared between them making him feel sleepy. 

 "Thank you.." 

He muttered slowly, making her raise her eyebrow. 

"Hm?"

..

 "Thank you for making me feel like I'm not a monster." 

He finished, slowly closing his eyes and falling into a content and peaceful slumber. {Name} was taken aback at his statement, but then just smiled, also closing her eyes.

 But unbeknownst to her, every time she saw the man laying on top of her, he fell deeper and deeper into the pit of love. 

And there was no getting out of it.