DSMP AGERE ONESHOTS

Tommy and Wilbur stood in the middle of the toy shop, surrounded by shelves stacked high with plushies, action figures, and board games. The scent of fresh plastic and soft fabric filled the air as Tommy excitedly bounced between displays, arms already cradling three plushies—a moth, a cow, and a raccoon.

“This place is sick,” Tommy grinned, adjusting the plush mountain in his arms. “I’m getting these guys. What about you, Wil?”

Wilbur had been quiet for the last minute, which was unusual. Tommy turned to check on his older brother and immediately noticed something was off. Wilbur stood frozen in front of a shelf, his gaze locked on a small, round, blue sheep plushie.

Tommy tilted his head. “Uh… Wil?”

Wilbur’s hands twitched at his sides. His expression softened, a rare vulnerability seeping into his normally confident demeanor. His fingers slowly reached out, brushing over the soft wool-like fabric of the sheep.

“I… I like him,” Wilbur murmured. His voice was quiet, almost dreamy.

Tommy furrowed his brow. He had seen Wilbur like this before—when his mind slipped into a more childlike state, when his littlespace threatened to take over. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, Tommy always knew what to do.

“Hey, big man,” Tommy said gently, stepping closer. “You wanna hold him?”

Wilbur hesitated, eyes flickering between Tommy and the plush. He gave a small nod, biting his lip as if unsure. Tommy shifted his own plushies into one arm and grabbed the sheep from the shelf, placing it in Wilbur’s hands.

Wilbur’s fingers curled around the plushie immediately, holding it close to his chest. His shoulders relaxed as he let out a soft breath, nuzzling his chin against the fluffy blue wool.

“Soft,” he whispered.

Tommy smiled. “Yeah, he’s a good one.” He nudged Wilbur’s side playfully. “Looks like you’re getting him, huh?”

Wilbur nodded again, not looking up. His cheeks were slightly flushed, as if embarrassed, but Tommy didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he simply turned toward the counter.

“C’mon, let’s go pay. I’ll race ya.”

Wilbur blinked at him before breaking into a grin. “You’re on.”

And just like that, things felt normal again. Wilbur clutched the little blue sheep as they ran toward the register, both laughing.

•time skip cause I'm lazy•

Tommy shoved the door open with his foot, arms still full of plushies, and grinned. “We’re home, nerds!” he called out.

Wilbur stepped in behind him, clutching his new blue sheep plush close. The house smelled warm, like tea and something faintly sweet. The comforting scent grounded him, but the fuzziness in his head only grew stronger. He wanted to curl up—needed to curl up—but he pushed the feeling down, gripping the plushie a little tighter.

The sight in the living room made Tommy snort.

Phil sat on the couch, carefully plaiting Techno’s long pink hair. The older brother sat still, his arms crossed, looking unimpressed but allowing it nonetheless.

“You two are so weird,” Tommy teased, setting his plushies down on the arm of the couch.

Phil glanced up with a warm smile. “Welcome back, lads. Get anything good?”

Wilbur hesitated for only a second before holding up the blue sheep. “Got this little guy,” he said, voice softer than usual.

Phil’s expression gentled. “He’s adorable, mate.”

Techno, half-lidded from what was likely the most relaxing moment he’d had all day, hummed. “Fits you,” he mumbled, shifting slightly as Phil worked.

Wilbur let out a breathy chuckle, but the warmth in his chest made it hard to focus. His fuzzy headspace threatened to take over, whispering at him to go upstairs, grab his pale yellow pacifier, slip into his cow onesie, and burrow under his blankets with his new plushie.

But he hesitated.

Wilbur didn’t mind being little around Phil and Techno, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to drop right now. He didn’t want to make a big deal about it.

So instead, he settled onto the couch next to Techno, hugging the sheep close but keeping his head up. “What’s the occasion?” he asked, gesturing at the braiding.

Phil smirked. “Techno lost a bet.”

Techno let out a long-suffering sigh. “Should’ve known better than to play chess with Phil.”

Tommy flopped onto the couch’s armrest, legs kicking out. “You suck at bets, man.”

“Shut.”

Wilbur giggled, his body relaxing despite himself. He tucked his legs up, hugging his plush a little closer, letting himself just be for a moment. The warm presence of his family, the gentle hum of conversation, and the quiet squeeze of his plushie in his arms were enough.

Tommy, never one to sit still for long, started bouncing his leg against the couch. “So, Tech, what exactly did you bet on? Because if it was something stupid like ‘Phil can’t checkmate me in five moves,’ you totally deserved to lose.”

Techno gave him a slow, unimpressed blink. “I’d like to see you last more than three.”

Tommy gasped dramatically. “Oi! I could if I wanted to! I just don’t want to waste my big brain on boring nerd stuff like chess.”

“Uh-huh,” Techno deadpanned. “Your ‘big brain’ doesn’t even know how to spell ‘checkmate.’”

Tommy shoved him lightly. “Do too!”

Techno shoved him back, just hard enough to make Tommy stumble against the couch arm. “Spell it, then.”

Tommy opened his mouth, then immediately shut it. His face scrunched up in concentration. “Uh—”

Techno smirked. “Yeah. Thought so.”

Tommy groaned. “You’re the worst.”

Wilbur, curled up with his plush, had been quiet through the playful bickering. He was already halfway in littlespace, the warmth of the house and his family’s presence making it hard to stay fully big. But the teasing back and forth, even if it was just Techno and Tommy being themselves, started to feel too much.

The tension in their voices, the way they pushed at each other—it wasn’t fighting, not really, but in Wilbur’s half-regressed state, it felt like it.

His fingers gripped the plushie tighter, his lip wobbling slightly. His head was already slipping further, his thoughts getting softer, simpler. His body felt small, the big world around him suddenly overwhelming.

He tried to fight it, tried to keep his grip on reality, but then Tommy shoved Techno again, laughing loudly, and it was too much.

Wilbur whimpered.

Immediately, the room went still.

Phil turned his head first, his eyes softening instantly as he took in Wilbur’s trembling fingers and the way he clutched his plush close to his chest.

Techno and Tommy froze mid-playful argument, looking over at their brother. Wilbur’s breathing was uneven, his wide brown eyes flickering between them like a lost child.

Tommy was the first to react. His teasing demeanor dropped in an instant, replaced by concern. “Oh—uh, hey, Big W?” he said, much gentler now. He scooted closer, careful not to startle Wilbur. “You good?”

Wilbur sniffled, his bottom lip trembling. He was *little*. Completely. He couldn’t hold onto being big anymore. He curled up tighter, burying his face into his sheep plushie.

Phil, ever the steady presence, reached over and gently ran his fingers through Wilbur’s curls. “Shh, love. It’s okay.” His voice was soft, soothing. “I’ve got you.”

Wilbur let out a tiny, broken sound—one of relief and overwhelm—and burrowed into Phil’s side.

Phil wrapped an arm around him, rubbing slow circles on his back. “There you go, mate. Just let it happen.”

Techno, less experienced in comforting but still deeply caring, nodded. “Sorry, Wil. Didn’t mean to stress you out.”

Tommy, looking guilty, reached out and lightly touched Wilbur’s arm. “Didn’t mean to be annoying, Big W. We were just messing around.”

Wilbur whimpered again, but this time, it wasn’t distressed—it was just small. He nuzzled into Phil’s shoulder, his breathing slowly evening out.

Phil kissed the top of Wilbur’s head. “Think you’re ready for some comfy clothes, yeah?”

Wilbur nodded against his shoulder.

“Alright,” Phil murmured, standing up with ease and gently guiding Wilbur with him. “Let’s get you in that cow onesie, hm?”

Wilbur nodded again, his hands still clutching the little blue sheep. His paci was upstairs, and all he wanted was to curl up with his family where it was safe.

Phil gave Techno and Tommy a look, one that silently said *thank you for stopping*, before leading Wilbur upstairs.

Techno sighed and leaned back against the couch. “Well. That was unexpected.”

Tommy frowned. “I feel kinda bad.”

Techno shrugged. “We didn’t mean it. But next time, maybe we cut the banter before it gets too much, yeah?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. Good call.”

And as Wilbur disappeared upstairs with Phil, wrapped in warmth and safety, the house settled once more.

Phil led Wilbur upstairs with slow, steady steps, keeping a comforting hand on his back. Wilbur was still curled around his new plushie, the little blue sheep tucked tight against his chest. His breath was coming out in tiny, hiccupy puffs, the way it always did when he was fully regressed.

“Shh, love,” Phil murmured as they stepped into Wilbur’s bedroom. “You’re alright. Just gotta get you comfy, yeah?”

Wilbur nodded, rubbing his cheek against the plushie. His fingers were trembling slightly, not from fear but from the overwhelming shift of headspace.

Phil guided him to sit on the edge of the bed before crouching in front of him, resting a gentle hand on Wilbur’s knee. “Think you can lift your arms for me, bud?”

Wilbur sniffled but did as told, raising his arms just enough for Phil to tug his sweater over his head. His curls stuck up in different directions when the fabric slipped off, making Phil chuckle softly.

“Look at you, all fluffy.” He smoothed Wilbur’s hair down with practiced ease before reaching for the familiar, soft cow onesie folded neatly at the foot of the bed. “Let’s get you in this, yeah?”

Wilbur made a soft, pleased noise at the sight of it. He lifted his legs one at a time as Phil helped him step into the onesie, then guided his arms through the sleeves before zipping it up. The second he was in it, Wilbur visibly relaxed, pressing his hands against the plush fabric.

“There we go,” Phil said warmly, cupping Wilbur’s cheek for a moment. “Feeling better?”

Wilbur nodded, his eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

“Good, mate.” Phil reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the pale yellow pacifier Wilbur kept there. He held it up. “Want this, love?”

Wilbur hesitated for half a second before nodding again. Phil pressed it gently to his lips, and Wilbur took it instantly, his cheeks turning just the slightest bit pink as he suckled softly.

Phil smiled. “There’s my boy.”

Wilbur made a small, content noise, shifting so he could crawl under his blankets. He pulled them up to his chin, his little blue sheep still held tight in his arms.

Phil tucked the blankets around him securely, making sure he was warm and snug. “You need anything else, bud?”

Wilbur blinked up at him, then hesitated before reaching out with one hand, making a small grabby motion.

Phil’s heart melted.

“You want cuddles?” he guessed.

Wilbur nodded, cheeks warm.

“Alright, scoot over then, love.”

Wilbur did, and Phil climbed into the bed beside him, letting Wilbur curl up against his chest. He ran slow, gentle fingers through Wilbur’s curls, humming softly under his breath. Wilbur’s eyes fluttered shut, his breathing slowing as he melted completely into the warmth and safety.

Phil stayed there with him, keeping him safe, keeping him small.

And for Wilbur, that was all he needed.