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toiletwipes · 1 year

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because we're friends | simpbur

~2.4k words / i tried my best to make it gender neutral reader but if there's any mistakes, feel free to let me know. [after hanging out with a friend and getting caught in the rain, simpbur takes his friend to his apartment to stay for the night. and he can't be normal and his friend knows.] 18+, minors do not interact.

You were just staying the night, for the night only. It’s pouring and you both walked here and both of you are broke idiots, he chants inside of his head, whatever could happen won’t happen. To take advantage of you while you’re helpless and with a dead phone? The temptation is there, his fingers twitch in his lap, the two of you sitting across from each other on his discounted couch.

You were just a friend who was just staying the night. Just that.

And yet, his mind runs from him. Because watching you watch some random movie, the flashing lights on your face only highlights what he likes seeing. Likes the dips and curves of your face, the way your eyelashes bat at him when you beg him to buy you something at the store. The way you pout at him. Fuck. He can’t stop looking at your mouth now. His mind runs from him and he can’t stop imagining you with spit-slick lips, bruised lips, lips wrapped around-

“-rything alright there, Wilby?” And the fucking nickname, his face burns. He lets out a low hum, focusing back on reality, looking you in the eyes. You’re not that concerned, only noticed his staring just now, most likely not aware how long he has been. (The answer being the entire time you’ve been watching your show.)

“Good. Just thinking.” Mhm, thinking he is, alright. But you smile, nodding and looking back to the screen, wiggling in your seat as you get comfortable. You send him a look as you stuff your feet underneath his legs. They’re cold, he notices and he can’t handle the effect you have on him. Fuck’s sake, your feet are only underneath his legs, but you’re touching him. Willingly, and willingly leaving yourself vulnerable. In no less than a second could he pin you down and work his fingers inside you, bruise your lips anyway he’d like. Because you trust him.

Both his fingers and his dick twitches.

And because you trust him, you end up scooting closer to him and his chest heaves with impure thoughts and desires. You don’t notice though. Switching the way you’re seated leaves you leaning against his side, with his arm tucked awkwardly behind you. But even then, you hum to yourself before reaching behind and pulling on his hand, wrapping it around your waist. His fingers graze uncovered skin by your stomach. He nearly jerks back before he forces himself to relax.

And his mind races. This position you’ve put yourself in. Tucking yourself into his side and wrapping yourself in him, letting him touch your bare skin. His heart pounds inside of his chest and he almost hopes you can feel him sporting a boner. He wants to shove his hand down your pants, up your shirt, in your mouth, fuck, the options were endless. More than anything, he wanted to push your face into the couch cushion and fuck you till you begged him to stop. And so again, his fingers twitch and you jerk away, giggling. “Sorry,” he mumbles, already pulling his hand away.

You shake your head, pulling on his hand again and even pushing it onto more uncovered skin, pushing your shirt up a little more. “I’m just ticklish.” And you twist your face a little just to smile at him.

He had so many questions, they’re just threatening to spill out of his mouth and fumble the wording and fuck everything up. But most of them are lewd and unbecoming of the friendship you’ve allowed him. Still, his fingers twitch and this time you relax as he flexes them, flattening them against your skin.

His own skin feels aflame, sensitive to every movement you make and he can’t even tell what the show was about. What they’re saying, who they are, they’re all lost to him.

And he misses a question. “Sorry, I spaced out- what did you say?” He tries to be casual but your next words send a shock through his veins.

“I’m not even surprised, I said, Wilbur- are you gonna keep staring at me or are you going to do something about it?” And his bones turn into stone, everything about him freezes and he can’t move. As if he had ice in his system and not blood.

“What can- what can I do?” His breathing starts again but it’s heavy, his head light from the lack of breathing and blood flow. Unknowingly, his hand presses harder against your skin.

“You mean besides killing me?” You laugh but his mind moves ahead of him, even thinking of that too. His dick jumps at the thought of you, bleeding, staring at him. And he pushes it away, no, no he wouldn’t. Not when you’ve just given him explicit permission to- to-

Fucking hell.

Shifting in his seat, he keeps his hand on your skin, relishes it more now. But his other hand moves to wrap around your middle too, pulling you into his chest. “So I can- you’ll let me-” he cuts himself off as he presses into your back, feeling the full force of your soap hit him. The lotion you’ve told him about. He presses his nose and mouth hard against the skin between your shoulder and neck, breathing and moaning as he breathes out. Months of pining, months of looking at you, months of jerking off to you, months of wet dreams and months of pushing all of that away-

He can stop pushing the thoughts away, indulge in them a little. “Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” He asks, one hand pressing on your stomach and the other slipping up to your chest, the fabric of your shirt hardly holds him back.

“This being?” Your voice hitches as his fingers graze your nipple, pinching, pulling, flicking.

“Touching you.” And his hand comes up to wrap around your throat, not so much squeezing as much as it’s just touching. Your skin is just so fucking soft. And it smells good. He can’t ever imagine being anywhere else anymore. And just as fast as he wrapped his hand around your throat, it slithers back down, both hands coming up to grope your chest, mouth moving as he licks the light sweat on your skin. Why you would wear a sweater to his apartment when there’s no air conditioning, is behind him, but it only serves him. He moans at the taste of salt, of sweat. Licks your skin in small circles, loving the taste of you.

Nudging your head to the side, he loves the way your chest heaves, the way soft whines and pants come out of you, loves to tweak the buds in between his knuckles and sucking at your neck, biting and kissing and moaning at the sounds that come out because of him.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you?” He asks, and he doesn't mean to, almost regrets it because wouldn’t that be a thought, to surprise you when he pulls your shorts down and shoves his cock inside of you. Oh, it’s so good, his dick jumps and he presses his body more into your back, nearly toppling the two of you over, and this way you can feel his dick against your back.

“Can you last that long?” Probably not but the way you tease him, it has him groaning against your wet skin, smelling so much like his spit.

“Don’t need to,” he mumbles, licking his way back up your neck and pressing closer, leans further to lick the skin of your jaw. Your head tilts back into his shoulder so nicely, he just has to suck a bruise into the skin there. And when he shoves his hand into your sweats, your mouth drops open and your eyes blink several times but they stay dilated.

“Wilb- fuck, Wilbur,” you whine as your hand reaches behind you, knocking his beanie off of his head and tugging on his hair. His mouth comes off of your skin as he moans, his hips jerking and rocking into your back. “If you keep touching me like that, I won’t- fuck, fuck, fuck.” He didn't care what the end of that sentence was going to be, he needed to hear what you sound like when you come. When he makes you come.

“Just like that, baby,” he mumbles, unable to close his eyes, pushing past the burning in his wrist as you whine right into his ear, your hips twitching and jerking on their own too as you make a mess over his fingers, his hand. You would’ve fallen face first into the cushion if he wasn’t holding you so close to him. “Just like that.”

The hand with you all over it goes right up to his mouth, licking every groove of his skin that’s covered in come, licking it all away and moaning at the taste. (The sight of which makes your insides burn, however boneless you are.)

In the next minute, he’s wiping the spit off of his hand on his own sweats, tugging at your sweater, which you take off gladly, and he shoves his hand between your body and your sweats, shoving them down. He feels your body shiver, bumps rising on your skin but all he feels is the intense burning of want, of need. He needs to be inside you right now, it drives him crazy.

“I’m so- so fucking close right now, I need you to tell me where I can come.” It’s like pulling teeth, speaking those words. You said anything, and fuck, maybe he might ignore whatever answer you have and come inside. His dick is so hard, he needs to be inside of you. He’s losing his fucking mind.

It’s as if you can hear his thoughts, or maybe he’s just saying them as they come, it doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is the grip tightening around his hair and you breathing out the word inside. The fucking butterflies he just felt. Fuck.

Shoving his pants down enough to pull his dick out, he smears pre-cum between your legs, your thighs, thrusting between them and the both of you moaning, it’s fucking bliss.

The moment he slips inside of you- he curses, you’re squeezing so tight around his cock, his mind blanks and he can only squeeze an arm around your stomach, the other one is squeezing the meat of your thigh, trying anything to hold back from blowing his load so fast when he just got his dick inside. “Fuck, f- I need a second,” and you’re breathlessly agreeing, squeezing his forearm, tugging his hair, whimpering in his ear. It’s almost too much entirely.

The pleasure doesn’t die down, but he manages to breathe through it, focusing on kissing your sweaty skin. And after a brief moment, you let go of his arm to pat it, asking if he’d be able to move now, leaning all of your weight onto him.

The first thrust out blinds him, pushing back in punches the breath out of his lungs. The way you’re breathing, sounds like you’re just as affected as him. He hopes, in a distant thought, that this wouldn’t be a one-time thing. Hopes that by the end of this, when the two of you are spent and exhausted and filthy, you’ll let him touch you again.

Minutes go by after slow jerks of his hips and then you whine, asking if he could go faster and fuck if his hips didn’t snap and the sound of skin smacking against skin, it’s enough to make the both of you groan. Fucking you, on his couch by the way, is the main wet dream. And the fact it’s happening right now? He’d come right then and there if he hadn’t worked so hard to come down from just that. Setting a much faster, a bit brutal pace, he’s hurtling towards his orgasm quickly, he can feel it.

“Let go of my hair,” he gasps, and as soon as you do, accidentally letting go of his forearm, he pushes on your shoulder and back, adjusting as needed as he works up to what he wanted to do earlier. Pressing your face into the cushion and fucking you like he’d die if he stopped. Your moans shift into sobs when he reaches around your front, burning at both ends.

And in a moment, in a flash, he squeezes your hip and leans over you, groaning as he spills come inside of you. He gives a few shallow thrusts, moaning over and over. And he stays there for a second, softening as he pulls out but groans anyways, the sight of his come spilling out of your hole? He acts without thinking, pushing two fingers to keep them in and your cries pull him out of his fuzzy head.

“Are you feeling okay?” He hums your name, pulling out his fingers and rubbing over your skin. Covering it in filth. His heart only pounds harder, he gets up from behind you, letting you lay on the couch. Fuck, seeing your hazy eyes, seeing you in a space he put you in from fucking you alone? He tries his best, grabs the blanket he’d tossed on the back of the couch and wipes you down, stomping the bubbling feeling of something good in his chest as you whine from the touch. “Here, let me take you to bed,” dropping the blanket, he tries his best to help you up before biting his lip and picking you up, hurrying to his room as quickly as possible. He wasn’t the strongest guy out there, and if he dropped you in his attempt to help? When he fucked you- and didn’t that give him butterflies to think about, fucking you hard enough your legs are jelly.

It doesn’t take long for you to come down, wherever you went, and by then, you’re ready to sleep. He thought about tucking you in, because what sight that would be, but the thought of waking up to you in the morning? Maybe fucking you in your sleep if he woke up, hell, you fucking him awake, riding him and using him like he used you? It makes him bite down on his lip to hold back a moan as he slips into bed behind you. And it melts his insides whenever you shift to turn in your sleep, tucking yourself into his chest. Sighing deeply.

He’s so far gone on you.

#simpbur #c: simpbur #eggplicit #c: simpbur smut #simpbur smut #simpbur x reader #simpbur x you #simpbur x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #minors do not interact #minors dni #k: free use #<- sorta #a: neutral

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bursonafied · 3 months

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FIRST DATE!

Pairing: Simpbur x Gn!Reader

Warnings: not proofread, tooth rotting fluff

Pronouns used: you/yours

Trope: friends to lovers

This is just a quick example of what I write… please bear with me it’s a bit rushed but future pieces will be better :)

don't be too mean i'll cry /j

also send more requests plspls i need to write for this lil loser guy

Wilbur had always been a particularly chivalrous guy, whether you’re in a relationship or not. You could recall the last time you and a group of friends hung out, he offered you his jacket, offered to carry you over a deep puddle. (Which, of course you accepted… the opportunity to be carried like a princess couldn’t be passed up so easily). He would defend you whenever someone would make fun of or tease you. He would shoot daggers to anyone who even attempted to get too close. He’s just protective! You’d tell yourself.

“You’re such a white knight, Wilbur,” or “You’re such a simp, dude.” It was endless, but he didn’t seem to care. Your friends would even go the lengths to call him ‘Simpbur’ whenever he did something particularly romantic, just for you You didn’t care, it was cute.

You weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he finally asked you out on a date. But of course, you said yes. It was hard to resist his sweet eyes and nervous smile. He was too adorable. You two agreed that the perfect date would be at your favorite ice cream place then straight to the park to watch the sunset. It was not only simple, but your two favorite things. Ice cream and the sunsets, (or, maybe Wilbur was that second thing).

The doorbell rings and a knock follows, a short little ‘knock knock’, not even a full three. You hurry to fix your hair in the mirror and rush to the door. You take a deep breath, your nerves silently taking over. You open the door with a kind smile. Wilbur is holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. He grins nervously and holds out the flowers for you.

“Um.. I, I got these— these flowers for you.” He seems to stumble over his words a bit. You can only lightly giggle and take the flowers, bringing them up to your nose and breathe in the scent, then let out the breath through your mouth.

“They’re beautiful!” You say, tilting your head a bit. There’s a short, awkward silence between you before Wilbur clears his throat.

“I know those are your favorite. I remember you telling me a while back. I would, put them in some water so they don’t die, because I want them to last. Because they’re… you know, your favorite and...” He over-explains a bit and gestures around with his hands… which he tends to do when nervous. It only adds to his charm. You smile and nod, placing the flowers into a pretty vase beside your front door, right where you would be able to see them right before leaving the house.

“I know, Wilbur. They’re very pretty.. thank you.”

He breathes out a quiet ‘not as pretty as you’ (which he hoped you didn’t catch) before nodding. “Yeah! Yeah, um. Of course. Anything for you.”

“So you ready to go?” You ask as you grab your bag from beside the door and sling it over your shoulder. “yeah- yes! Lets go.” Wilbur nods and waits for you to step out of your place, closing the door behind you. He takes you over to his car and opens the door for you, smiling. How sweet of him!

The car ride wasn’t the slightest bit awkward. You two talked just as you would as if this were a hang out rather than a date. In a way, any one-on-one time with Wilbur felt like a date. Maybe you were just so exponentially head over heels for this guy without realizing, that you took each interaction as a romantic one. You two sang your favorite songs on the way to the parlor his voice sounding better than yours since he sang regularly… you just sang TV Girl about as loud as you could in the shower. There was a difference.

"this song kinda sucks," You mutter, skipping over one of your favorite songs. Often, you'd get bashed for your music taste. Wilbur just shakes his head.

"Nono! go back! i like that song!" Your heart flutters in your chest as he flips back to the other song, allowing it to play fully.

Upon finally arriving to the parlor, Wilbur again, opens the door for you. You thank him and he nods. He thinks about grabbing your hand and linking your fingers, like he wished to do so, so many times before. His fingers would twitch in longing, wanting to connect you two in the kind and gentle manner. He would to it today, even if it was the last thing he did before the date was over.

“Wilbur?” You tap his shoulder, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you with a grin. “It’s your turn to order.” You point to the cashier who seemed to be about 19 and way over his job, hinted at by the obviously unamused expression he held. Wilbur’s face reddens with slight embarrassment and he nods.

“Right! Right... um, just a chocolate dipped cone, please.” The cashier nods.

“Your total is $4.76.” he slides forward the little iPad to pay. Wilbur quickly swipes his card before you get the chance to pay for your sundae, and you shoot him an angry, yet playful, glare.

“What? Couldn’t let my date pay for themself. That would be so rude!” He teases, lightly nudging you with his shoulder just before taking his ice cream.

You then both drive to the nearby park, a short drive that was mostly quiet. nothing worth telling, said park has a downhill slope right at the parking. It was perfect for watching the sunset. Wilbur pops his trunk and you both go sit in the back and eat your ice cream. He grabs a blanket after a moment.

“It’s supposed to get cold soon,” he says as he holds his ice cream cone in his mouth, his teeth are too sensitive to the cold but he would rather make you comfortable and suffer for a moment rather than watching you freeze.

“Aw, thank you. Youre the sweetest.” You smile before taking another bite of your sundae. Will smiles and nods, taking the cone from his mouth and biting into the sugary treat. you both sort of sit in silence for a moment while the sun falls behind the horizon. You yawn, covering your mouth, then you lean your head on Will's shoulder. You can hear his breath nearly stop, his body tensing up. Why was he reacting like this? It's not like you'd never done this before. Maybe it was just... a different situation. You both finish up your ice cream, and are now leaned against each other, bodies touching, it's warm enough between you two that you can ignore the chill from the outdoors. You sit in a comfortable silence until he decides to speak up.

"Sunset's pretty." He mutters. You nod in agreement. "I think you're prettier though." He adds after a second. it makes your cheeks burn with blush and a smile crossed your face.

"That's just not true." You giggle, shaking your head. Will takes a breath to regain confidence and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer against him if it were possible. You look up at him with a grin.

"You know i couldn't ever lie to you." He mutters, looking down at you... soaking in your beauty. His eyes drift from your eyes down to your lips. He couldn't tell you how long he'd been resisting this.

resisting the urge to feel your lips pressed against yours in a passionate kiss, to feel your breath mingle with his in such love and longing.

"i know you wouldn't." You mumble, looking up, your eyes meet his for a brief second before you notice them drift to your lips. you can't help the smile playing at your lips. "What're you looking at?" You tease, lightly nudging him. his face reddened and he glances away.

"Not.. nothing."

"Nothing, huh?" Your fingers brush over the top of his hand, his breath hitches. He was so nervous, it was honestly cute. Soon, you link your fingers with his and you can feel him practically melt.

"I've wanted to ask you out for so long." He whispers after a moment of silence, rubbing his thumb gently along yours. It causes butterflies to fly loose in your belly.

"So why didn't you?"

"Don't think i could handle being called 'simpbur' one more time." He chuckles, shrugging. You look up at him, and he was already looking down at you.

"I always thought that was stupid." Your grip tightens around his hand. he inches even closer to you.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." You confirm it, and it's silent for a second as you both inch closer. your brain was screaming at you to just go for it. so, you did. Your lips collide against Wilbur's, it's a sweet (yet somewhat awkward) kiss to begin with, but you two ease into it. He tilts his head and grabs your chin between his index and his thumb, and you lean closer. Your hands rest on his chest as you two enjoy your long overdue kiss.

Wilbur's lips are warm on yours and his hands begin as sweet and innocent, but he grows a bit eager. his hand trail down and rests on your thigh, which takes you by surprise. His lips leave yours momentarily and connect to your neck, and while the feeling is nearly euphoric, you have to pull away. It was a bit too soon to do anything more than kisses.

"Will.." You whisper. He responds in a gentle and careful voice.

"Yes, darling?" He looks up at you.

"This is... amazing but I... I'm not ready for.." Your words trail off. Wilbur simply smiles and nods in understanding, returning up to give you one quick kiss on the lips.

"That's alright. I'll wait my whole life if I must."

Your heart flutters as his promise and you nod.

You couldn't wait for more future dates. More opportunities to hold and kiss Will whenever you wanted, and now, he was inevitably, undeniably, all yours.

#wilbur soot #argbur #simpbur #simpbur x you #bursonas #simpbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #bursonafied #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #anon #fluff #wilbur soot fluff #simpbur fluff #first piece

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simp-king-noshi · 4 months

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𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐮𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐭 𝟐

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈： 𝒮𝓂𝓊𝓉，𝓃ℴ𝓃－𝒸ℴ𝓃， 𝓈ℯ𝓍𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝓉ℴ𝓅𝒾𝒸𝓈 ℛℰ𝒜𝒟 𝒜𝒯 𝒴𝒪𝒰ℛ 𝒪𝒲𝒩 ℛℐ𝒮𝒦！！

You woke up, in the same dark cold, empty basement, your head pounding, your leg was aching and you felt dizzy. You shift, trying to get comfortable,on the hard chair you sat on. When you hear a grunt, you look down so you realize.. You're on his lap, where there appears to be a tent... Your breathing hitched and your moving all together stopped. “Good morning darling!~” He wrapped his arms around you, with a firm, yet gentle grip. He moved his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickled your neck, but you were too tense to react. A smirk was painted on his face, his cold, insane gaze on you, outlining your waist and hips through your clothes. “Gods, you're so pretty..” He mumbled, his face heating up as his finger’s danced on your sides, as it glided up and down your waist and hips area. You attempted to squirm away but his grip tightened keeping you down on his hardened tent, causing you to squirm a little more from discomfort. His breath got heavy, as his finger’s continued to run up and down your waist and hip area slowly, pushing his nail into your flesh causing some sort of scratch to form. You closed your eyes tightly, wishing this was some dream or nightmare, wishing you were asleep, but you felt the pain of his short bitten nails scratching your sides. You let a low wince of pain as bullets of sweat began to race down your forehead. “Aww, dear~ Don’t be scared I won’t hurt you unless you truly deserve it. Like when you tried to escape..” His hand went down from your side to your thigh, rubbing small circles, his breath heavy, as he breathed in your scent. His warm breath continued to tickle your neck. You could feel the tent hardening, he began to sweat as his face became hotter, her breathing intensed. “Dear~ I can’t resist any longer~~” He in a clumpy moment, moved you onto the floor, where you knelt in front of him, as he unbuckled his belt, he struggled, when he finally got it off he threw it in a random direction of the empty cold floor, causing a small echo. you shivered feeling how cold the concrete floor of the basement was. He pulled her pants down, where his hardened boxer was shown. Your eyes widened as he stared at you while he played with the band of his boxers, his gaze remained cold and insane, with pure lust, as he impatiently pulled his boxers down as his cock spring out droplettes of pre-cum dropped. He impatiently, but softly gripped your hair pushing your lips down on his cock. Watching as you gagged as his hips bucked, causing you to gag again as salty tears formed in your eyes you shut them as he pushed you on his cock until it hit the back of your throat as he watched you gag. He grunted and groaned as you gagged, your sounds filling the quiet room.. He let low, squeaky moans and whimpers, as his cock began to twitch in your mouth, he pushed your mouth down one last time before he released. He pulled his hips away from you as he watched as his cum dripped down your lips, and chin, watching you swallow, eyes still shut close, tears continued to fall down your red tear stained cheeks. “Aw~ Good [INSERT PRONOUN]~” He stroked your H/L, H/C looking into your E/C eyes, a lustful gaze still there.

-The end

#simpbur x you #simpbur x reader #simpbur #simpbur smut #simpbur x reader smut #wilbur x reader

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simpbursubliminal · 2 years

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The hard parts of living with your roommate Simpbur ♡

A collection of headcanons about the hard parts of living with Simpbur. Because as much as I adore him it would be difficult sometimes.

Starting off small it would be hell getting the apartment to yourself. Simpbur is definitely more of a homebody, so getting him to go out without you would be hard.

Expect some of your clothes to go missing.

It wouldn't be obvious at first, a shirt you haven't worn in forever, a coat you traded for something a bit warmer.

You would defiantly have to check him on it as he got bolder.

He would wait up for you, and would defiantly spam call you if you weren't in by the time you said you would be.

Wants to know everything your doing, and who you are with.

God forbid you forget to tell this man you are going out

He honestly jumps at the idea of tagging along with you even if you're going out with friends

It would take him a long time to get used to your friend group. You would be stuck in small talk hell for months.

If you say you like something he goes out of his way to make sure you have it

it's cute,, at first

then it gets to be a bit much. Because everything this man does for you, he does in excess.

I think the most annoying thing is how quick he is to agree with you.

Sometimes it's hard to tell if he actually likes an idea or just likes how happy it makes you.

I may post more of these at some point because I have thought about this man more than I should have.

#bursonas #incelbur #simpbur #simpbur x you #simpbur x reader #incelbur x you #incelbur x reader #e girl trilogy #simpbur headcanons #incelbur headcanons

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zwombiebabes · 1 month

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Keep those booty cheeks clenched😈

I'm so sorry. BUT UHHMMM. WHERE IS THE SMUT AT Y'ALL????? DID YOUR BRAIN DRY???-😭😭 I NEEEDDDD THE SMUT🥹🥹🥹 (please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please 🧎‍♂️)

(tbh I wouldn't mind if y'all..like..uhnm..put it quality x a male y/n / reader or whatever. PLEASE. PLEASEE. AUGHH 🙏🙇)

#quackity smut #schlatt x you #wilbur soot smut #simpbur x you #ted nivison smut

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dsmpfanartandmorelol · 1 year

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You and will use to date it was fun you had such a fun time with him but then you found out that he’s was a vampire and killed people so you put a restraining Order on him and meat a new guy Jared you to two were made for each other 3 years later your gonna have your wedding Wilbur hasn’t try to get you back since you break up

You go on google and look up new popular songs you see one called your new boyfriend you go the YouTube and are shocked to see Wilbur face you click on it the music begins to play you look at the date it was the day you met Jared as you listen you hear something off like someone’s talking over his singing but as you get one min in your mind began to slow you feel relaxed calm until jared walking in take you out of your trans you and him talk about how creepy it is

Later that end you stay awake how does Wilbur know Jared she hasn’t email him about Jared who has you go to sleep scared …

The then day you and Jared go on a coffee date a young waiter with blonde hair and baby blue eyes comes over he ask you walk you want then Jared and you 3 have a little chat his name is Tommy he live near by eats mud and doesn’t like anteater the last fun fact about him was weird will didn’t like anteaters either but you don’t think much about it you and Jared hang out at the park and both of you go home

after the wedding your going to live with him your packing when you hear your telephone round Wilbur got it for you it was weird but nice well was you were planning on selling it but remember that it 2023 not 1983 also if your phone dies it’s handy Jared ask if you have his phone you say on he panics for a min but then he founds it on his bed from the corner of your eye you see Tommy with a little brown bat with the fur that look like wills hair you hang up and you wake up 2:30 am get some holy water from a humans only shop and go to wills Wilbur opens the door when you punch him in the face he ask you what’s wrong you push and yell about the song and Tommy and how she can get him locked away and kill him taking the holy water out of your jacket he ask who’s Tommy you run around they house room to room looking for him and found nothing will kicks you out and tell you Jared will pay for that

You now wet in holy water that didn’t land a droop of water on and in the rain walk home your worried he said Jared will pay why him why did you have to be so dump just let him watch you you get a carried home and sleep into the afternoon

You wake to a text form he want to hangout with you at his place you talk about will and what you did you and him chat for a few mins you call and he’s hangs up he say he’s on 3 and has no charger it’s broken

He walk up to jared and feel off seen the count when you and will hugs for the last time everything feels like a dream like 3rd person in real life on your life and now it worst you feel wake you knock and see will he’s singing to you and then the world goes black

“ Wakey Wakey my e girl “

For the first time in forever you feel real

“ Don’t try and scream… Tommy’s asleep on my head see the bat and his friends is up stairs making popcorn we’re going watch Hamilton our favorite “

Wilbur seats aside to show Jared tied up

“ Jared! Wake up I need yo-”

“ I said don’t scream! You know you should more like by little bothers friend we told him we’re vampire and he doesn’t as long as we don’t feed on him but you have you breakup and count and this and THAT!… and then there’s Jared o-o-o-oh JaReD I hate him as much as I hate anteater “

“ Please don’t hurt him “

“ Well tommys tubbo snapped his neck earlier because he wouldn’t stop screaming soooo he’s dinner and you get to watch me eat”

Wilbur’s mouth was leaking a dark red water when you remembered will telling you it was vampire drool and it keeps blood from getting clogged his stomach growl fang up out of his mouth

You cry heavy fat tears as will play your new boyfriend it starts the they way you heard it late but 15 seconds in you feel calm your tied to a chair will wakes up Tommy , tommy goes into his normal from and as they feed on Jared you hear the truth lyrics

Love me

I love you

Love me

I love you

It’s repeats over and over again for a long 20 mins your half asleep as you hear the calming last line

LOVE ME SALLY MY HUMAN PET!!! you’ve never heard something this loud and you past out feeling loved so so loved while Tommy’s friends yells WILBUR BEEN PLAYING THAT FOR 20 MINS TRUN IT OFF!!! He must not be under Wilbur power …

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wilbursprincess · 2 months

Note

Okay so one, love your writing literally sm

Two, imagine being best friends with simpbur and heading to his place after a shitty date and he’s all like “hey, hey, it’s okay.. I can take care of you”

And yk.. it can lead to whatever!

- 💤 anon(?)

“I Can Take Care Of You”

Simpbur x Female Reader

Warnings: Really soft fluffy sex, Soft/ServiceDom!Simpbur

Thank you so much, new 💤anon! I’m a sucker for the ‘best friend helps you after a bad date/breakup’ trope, so thank you for fulfilling my little writer heart <3

Fic below cut!

“What’s wrong?” Wilbur says, frantically running up to me. “What happened?”

I sigh, rubbing my hands over my bare arms from the night chill. “That’s the last time I accept a ride from a guy I’m going on a first date with.”

“Who am I beating up?” He asks, brows knitting in concern as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders. “Did he do anything?”

Shaking my head, I let Wilbur lead me to his car, letting a sigh of relief as he buckles me into the front seat and I hear the front doors lock. “Tried to get me to go home with him, and doesn’t like being told no. Got out before he tried anything, but yikes.”

He cranks the heat, a wave of warmth washing over me as I snuggle into his jacket. “That bastard,” he sighs. “Thank you for calling me.”

“You’ve always been there for me,” I murmur affectionately, resting my head on Wilbur’s shoulder and breathing in his comforting scent, the same cologne and shampoo he’s used since I’ve known him. “Did I interrupt your evening?”

Snorting, Wilbur puts a loose arm around my shoulders. “Oh, definitely. A very exciting evening of shitty TV movies and frozen pizza. Care to join me, now that your plans have, uh, changed?”

“Absolutely,” I nod. “Mind lending me some of your clothes when we get to yours?”

“No problem,” he replies, backing out of the parking spot. “Might even dig some ice cream out of the freezer, too.”

“His number is blocked?” Wilbur asks as we head up the staircase to his apartment.

“Blocked it while planning my escape,” I laugh, tugging off my heels and carrying them up with me. “God, why did I wear heels on a date with a guy who’s barely 5 foot tall?”

Giggling, Wilbur unlocks his door. “He’s not worth your heels, princess.” He’s always called me princess, and recently, it had started sending heat between my thighs each time his British accent cooed it at me. “Right, let’s get you changed, and I just bought one of those veggie pizzas you like, want me to throw that in the oven?”

“Oh, absolutely,” I groan. “We didn’t even get to appetizers before I had to run, and I’m running off a vodka soda.”

He preheats the oven, yanking open the cupboard and tossing me my favorite crisps. “Go grab one of my hoodies and some sweats from my room, and I’ll get this ready for us, ok?”

Nodding, I shove a handful of crisps in my mouth on the way to his room, opening the door and sighing at the familiar sight. I’d often teased Wilbur for being a slob, his room covered in clothes and empty mugs, but right now, there was nothing more I wanted to see.

I tug off my dress, replacing it with one of his massive hoodies and an even baggier pair of sweatpants, his softest socks covering my feet. In his bathroom, I use his face wash to wash off my makeup, patting on some lotion and grabbing a stray rubber band to wrap my hair in a bun.

“There we go,” Wilbur says, smiling as I walk back in, munching on the crisps. “That’s the girl I’m more used to.”

I look down at my shapeless clothes, messy hair, and crisp crumbs stick to my lips. “What do you mean?”

“As much as you look amazing in a dress and heels, I love seeing the real you shine through. Wearing my clothes, using a rubber band as a hair tie.”

I’m not even sure how to respond to such a compliment, so I don’t. I just accept a can of soda and an outstretched arm, snuggling into his chest as he tosses a blanket over our laps. “Pizza’s in the oven, it won’t be too long,” he murmurs. “You feeling ok after your night?”

Embarrassingly, tears bubble in the corner of my eyes, and I try and sniff them back before Wilbur sees, but he wipes them away before I can turn away. “What’s with the tears?” he whispers, pulling me into his lap.

“I’m just sick of shitty dates with shitty guys,” I admit, wiping my eyes on his tshirt. “All I want is someone who knows me inside and out, loves me for who I am, and is good in bed. No, scratch that, someone who’s mediocre in bed, since apparently my standards are too high.”

Surprisingly, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Hey, hey, it’s ok. I can take care of you.”

“W-what do you mean?” I whisper, heart pounding, hoping I didn’t mishear him.

“I know you sing in the shower, how you like the burnt bits on pizza, and that you feed all the stray cats behind your apartment because you feel bad they have to sleep in the rain,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling in amusement. “I’ve held your hair back while you’re throwing up in my bathroom after getting wine-drunk, I know the brand of tampons you like, and where you hide your vibrator.”

“You know where I hide my-?”

Wilbur presses a finger onto my lips. “Shush. I’m not done. That’s two out of three of your standards I’ve knocked out of the park.”

“What about the last one?” I challenge, face in a red flush just from the thought.

“Do you want me to tell you, or show you?” He smirks, hand fluttering on my thigh.

“Show me.”

From how flirty his words had been, I was expecting his lips to crash unceremoniously into mine, but that wasn’t the case. Wilbur was soft, gentle, and sweet, running his tongue across my lower lip before sliding it into the kiss. One of his hands rubs at the nape of my neck, the other stroking the curve of my waist under the hoodie, and I absolutely melt into his touch.

“You taste even better than I imagined,” he sighs, barely pulling back enough to get the words out. “Mmm.”

I giggle, nibbling on his lower lip. “I didn’t know you were such a good kisser.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Wilbur whispers in my ear, leaving a hickey just behind my ear. “You want me to show you some, baby?”

“Please,” I whine, tugging on the waistband off his sweats to try and free the growing bulge. “Show me, Wilbur.”

“Patience, sweetheart,” he chides, sliding two fingers into the band of my sweatpants. “Can I take these off?”

I nod, reaching down for my hem of his hoodie as he tugs off my sweats. “How long have you wanted to do this for?”

“Longer than I’d like to admit,” he says. “But I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

I smile. “Same here.”

We both stare at each other in the dim light, him panting over my almost-naked body.

“Please let me ruin it now,” he groans, rubbing himself between my thighs.

I grind back, both of us letting out high pitched whines. “Ask me that after I see how good that dick is.”

Wilbur pulls back for a moment, tugging down the front of his pants, the leaking length springing up and hitting his lower stomach.

“Of course you have a fucking huge dick,” I groan, making him snort. “My best friend of all these years has somehow managed to hide that from me.”

He leans down, pressing his shaft onto the wet spot on my panties. “And I can assure you that it feels even better.”

I tug my panties down my legs. “That’s two things you have to prove tonight, Wilbur. Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Do you want me to use a condom?” Wilbur asks, brows knitted in concern.

I shake my head. “I’m on birth control, and we all know neither of us have slept with anyone else in ages.”

“Sounds good to me,” he says softly, working me open with his fingers. “Tell me if I’m going too fast, it hurts, you’re uncomfortable, or-“

Kissing his forehead, I tilt Wilbur’s head back to look him in the eye. “Wilbur. You’re worrying.”

“How did you know I was worrying?”

“Your forehead always crinkles when you worry,” I say. “Relax. I promise. We both want this.”

He sighs. “I just want to make this perfect for you. You deserve it. You deserve the world.”

“You’re already making it perfect,” I reply, stroking my hand down his bare back. “Just be gentle, ok?”

“Anything,” he breathes. “For you.”

Wilbur pushes himself inside me gently, so gently, kissing me all over my face as I adjust to the feeling. One hand squeezes my hip, the other stroking the bare skin at my waist.

“I’m so full,” I groan out, wrapping my legs around Wilbur’s waist to tug him deeper. “Oh, God.”

He smiles, licking a stripe up my neck as we start to move together, finding a smooth, rocking rhythm.

“Mmm, we feel so good together, princess,” he praises, hooking one of my legs over his shoulders to hit me even harder. “You’re so wet.”

I’m surprised he’s touching me in all the right places, since from my past experiences, most guys aren’t exactly adept. But Wilbur was. Incredibly, in fact, not just shoving my own pleasure aside to get himself off.

Kisses turn into nibbles, nibbles turn into bites, and bites turn into Wilbur fully sinking his teeth into my lower lip, muffling the moan that threatens to spill out. His hand slides from my waist to my chin, tilting my face into our slightly sloppy kiss.

“Still ok?” He whispers, pulling back for a moment to gaze in my eyes. “I’m not hurting you?”

I shake my head, pecking him on the mouth. “Quite the opposite. You’re quite adept with that cock of yours.”

Laughing, Wilbur nibbles another hickey onto my neck. “I try my best, love.”

We stop talking for awhile after that, preferring to let our bodies do the talking.

“Oh, Wilbur, I’m close,” I cry out, knees shaking, nails digging into his back. I’m impressed how long we’ve both been lasting, but I’m not sure either of us can keep going forever. “Fuck.”

Wilbur groans, biting his lip with the effort to keep going for me. “Where… where can I cum?” He pants.

“Inside… please,” I manage to reply, almost screaming out as he reaches up and presses on my clit. I melt into the couch, tightening around him as my high slams into me, Wilbur right behind me a few seconds later, finishing deep inside me with a loud moan.

We’re both silent, panting in the aftermath, only being interrupted by the sudden beep of the oven timer.

“Pizza’s ready,” Wilbur deadpans, making me crack up. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” I sigh. “Cardio will do that to you.”

#princesswrites #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur x you #simpbur #simpbur smut #bursona smut #bursonas #bursona #mcyt x female reader #wilbur soot smut #wilbur smut #dsmp smut #mcyt smut #💤 anon

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toiletwipes · 11 months

Text

i know love | the poly ending

~1.6k words / YEAH THATS RIGHT. POLY ENDING. If you're confused, when I first started writing for "and I'd give up forever to touch you" my pride and joy, I would get asks and requests for a poly ending between Simpbur, Rosie (a streamer he was in love with) and the MC (aka you, who developed a genuine connection with him- first.) And because I've been writing all day and I did promise Lotus I would, here it is! I wanna say it's been a while since I read the fic myself so if it's inaccurate- shh.

Also I want to apologize about the length, I would add more but I really wanted to post this before I go to the concert so uh. here it is! Hope you enjoy lotus <3 @lotusanonymouse

[You come home and you find your lovers fucking like the horny freaks they are.]

~~~

"Guys, I'm home," you say, toeing off your shoes, sliding the keys into the tray by the door. Work had been long, boring and frankly, numbed your bones more than you care for. The soles of your feet ache and you reach down to rub the soreness away, sighing as it just barely relieves the pressure. But as soon as you look around, you sigh again, this time with a smile. Leaning on the wall, you Crane your neck to see that only one door in this apartment is open. And now the noises are more apparent.

Padding down the hallway, soft moans and whimpered curses are louder and louder and when you peer around the doorframe you can't help the burning in your lower abdomen. Both of your partners, Wilbur and Rosie were on the bed, and they were both very close to their climax.

"You guys have been playing without me?" You murmur, snaking a hand over the clothed back of Rosie, digging into her hair and yanking as your other hand reaches down to splay over Wilbur's chest. They each have their own gasps, looking towards you not with regret, but need. Your hand relaxes the grip it has in Rosie's hair till you hum, smoothing her down. The roots are starting to show again, should probably bleach them again.

"Your shift ended an hour ago, could you blame us?" Rosie's hips keep rolling, and honestly, you couldn't. It's not like they weren't supposed to fuck without you, you just like playing with them like this. You're not really mad. You just could use a snack first… or not, honestly the way Rosie keeps leaning her face into your hand. Keeps kissing it like it'd put her in your graces.

Wilbur's hands were digging his nails into her naked hips, her t-shirt just barely covering her stomach but there's nothing else on her. Just the shirt. Wilbur's plaid pajama pants were pulled down just enough for her to get going and his shirt is nowhere to be found. You wouldn't be surprised if Rosie came straight over to him after her stream. She does get horny quite easily while she streams, finds it harder to keep her hands to herself when she knows her lovers are in the chat.

"Then why don't you finish Wilbur off, he looks like he needs it more than you." You lean down to kiss him, catching his moans getting louder as she begins to bounce on his cock again, trailing down a blunt nail down his chest and pinching one of his hardened nipples.

"Be a good boy and come for her, yeah?" You whisper against his mouth before pulling away.

Moving towards your room, you toss your work clothes into the bin and you can hear them with the open door and through the walls. "Fuck fuck fuck- that's it, oh fuck right there. Come inside- yeah come inside of me, baby." Rosie's rambling makes your head spin as you consider getting dressed.

Making the split decision, you pull on Wilbur's boxers and one of Rosie's merch shirts, two sizes bigger than your normal for the extra baggy look. Making your way back to your two favorite people, Wilbur sits on the back of his thighs, sobbing into Rosie's neck as she pulls him further into her body.

You can pinpoint the second his cock twitches and then spills inside of her with the way he tenses, and her legs shake the tiniest bit wrapped around his waist, but you can see her wiggle, see the way she still hasn't orgasmed yet.

"That's it, baby, fill me up," you hear her coo into his ear, biting her lip as she opens her eyes and finds you. She whispers even quieter and he moves finally, slipping out and sitting against the wall with Rosie next to him. She's antsy to get off, though, you send her a look. She sends you one back but you hold a finger up and you leave and come back with a warm, damp towel, wiping the mess they both made.

Rosie moans through it but complains thoroughly when you lean down to clean Wilbur off personally with your tongue. His fingers reach into your scalp, "ah- ah, I'm still- sensitive, sensitive."

You only come up once you've swallowed his come down, reaching up to thread your fingers in his hair and pull him into a kiss. He whimpers in your mouth when you still reach down to wipe him clean with the rag.

"And what about you, baby, you want us to do something for you?" Rosie asks, reaching over to squeeze at your thigh, a smile spread lazily across her face.

You pull away from Wilbur, trailing one blunt nail down again and watching him shiver as you hum. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye and then you smile. "Get on your back, Rose," and boy does she move. She's on her back, spreading her legs for you to move in between them and gasping lightly when your mouth latches onto her clit, switching between lapping and sucking on it enough to make her groan out in frustration. Her hips twitch underneath you, aching to thrust into your face but you hold her down.

And right when you almost had her there, you come off of it, spitting on her can't as you thumb her entrance. "Ask me nicely," you ask as she hisses, still so sensitive from Wilbur's round. "Ask, babe." She doesn't and so you let off completely, sitting back and finding Wilbur right behind you, wrapping you in his arms and kissing at your neck.

"You can get yourself off if you don't wanna ask me," you grin at her, as Wilbur's hand drips under Rosie's shirt to cover your warm skin with cold fingers. She huffs, because the three of you know damn well she can't get off without either of you. One of you will do but if it's just her? Forget it, she'll just be teasing herself for hours.

"And what if I asked Wilbur instead?" She asks, sitting up on her elbows, jutting her chin out.

"Ask him, but just know I'm not getting you off until I get back from my mom's. Whether or not you ask me." And everyone knows you won't be back until next week.

She bites her lip, looking away, breathing in deeply. The trip itself had been a major argument, with her deflecting and not actually admitting she just wanted to go with you and meet your family until it was too late.

Her eyes come back to yours and then she crawls onto her knees and places her hands on both of your thighs. "Please, can you-" she breathes in deeply as she leans back, "-can you make me feel good? Make me come?"

You can't hide the smile on your face, and without hesitating, you tap Wilbur's arms and he lets go, watching as you push Rosie on her shoulders, leaning into her space to press your mouth against hers, kissing her deeply as you press her into the mattress. One of your hands drift between you two and she gasps into your mouth when you set an aggressive pace already, gripping onto your elbows as you slip a finger, then two inside of her can't.

"Go on, baby, be a good whore. Show Wilbur how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers. That's it, moan for him."

And she does, once you move your mouth to the column of her neck, kissing and biting hickeys into her skin just low enough that no matter what she wears, the bruises will peek through, and she moans for Wilbur. Tells him through gasps of breath that she's both of yours, that she needs your fingers and she presses her chest into yours, trembling as you fuck her through an orgasm.

Wilbur's quick to suck Rosie's slick off of your fingers, quick to wipe her down again and slide his boxers on.

The three of you lay in bed, breathing and cuddling closely before Wilbur gets up, kissing both you and Rosie. "Getting food, do you guys want anything?" When he received two no's, he nodded and left the bedroom.

Quiet again, with the sounds of Wilbur pulling things out of the cupboard, Rosie rolls onto her side and stares into your face, waiting till you adjusted yourself before speaking. "You are coming back… right?" It was never really settled in the argument and the apologies if you did but you thought she knew. You frown, reaching forward to cup her face, letting her press it closer.

"I'm coming back. I'm just going to grab the last of my things and I'm leaving the first chance I get." And you pause before continuing, "I don't think I can live without either of you again. You two are the best things to happen to me." She leans closer, lightly pressing a kiss to your lips. You stay like that for a while, kissing her until she pulls away, only a little bit and she shudders, wiping away a stray tear.

"Okay." And you grab her hand, lifting it to your mouth, pressing a kiss to her hand, gripping it hard as she holds just as tightly.

"You know I love you," she tenses, "and I know you're not ready to say that to me or to Wilbur, but I'm coming back. I promise." She nods.

You fall asleep in her arms, vaguely aware of Wilbur's weight dipping back on the mattress and of his arms wrapping around your waist again. You just know love.

You know love.

#c: wilbur soot #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #simpbur x y/n #simpbur x reader #c: simpbur smut #simpbur smut #simpbur x you #simpbur x rosie x you #wilbur x rosie x you #and i'd give up forever to touch you

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bursonafied · 3 months

Note

Vampire simpbur would be most pathetic loser ever I think maybe

-🍡 anon !! :3

OHH MY GOSH YES!! He would be so pathetic and cold all the time… he would just want you to hold him so he could feel warm… and probably some of your blood too

I love him sm :(

ALSOOOO sorry it’s late! I got busy with classes and other things… I’m working on all requests! I have a doc with all of them on it and I’ll do my best to post one at least once a week. :)

Thank you soso much to my friend honey-with-tea for helping me come up with ideas and inpso for my piece :)

Warnings: blood, biting

Pairing: vamp!wilbur x gn!reader

Pronouns: you/yours

*not proofread*

"Please, y/n…” Wilbur begs, following you around the dim flat like a lost puppy. Ever since he’d revealed to you that he was a vampire, (crazy, right?), he would not stop pestering you. “Just a taste!” He would whine, wanting nothing more than a taste of you. your blood would be like liquid rubies to him. Like a fine wine of the highest cost.

The juxtaposition between his height and his intimidating energy was pretty comedic. Standing at a solid 5’4 seemingly made him even more pathetic. He looked like he should be taller, right?

“No! I don’t know how many times I have to say it. I swear to god, Wilbur. I had a long day at work. Someone’s dog threw up on me after waking up from surgery.” You complain, hurrying to your room to change out of your work clothes, putting on a pair of comfy pajama pants and a t-shirt. You shut the door behind you, and Wilbur just whines behind it. “Seriously?” He groans and you can her him stomp away. You step out of your room, running your fingers through your hair. your room was the only place you could get privacy in your shared place.

Wilbur is immediately beside you again.

“You’re.. pathetic.” You mumble to him. He rolls his eyes yet still follows you. He figured that bothering you would be the only way to get you to say yes. You go to the kitchen to start your dinner, and while Wilbur can eat things other than blood, but nothing could satiate his hunger for it. you start up a pot of water, taking out the pasta and sauce, then grab some frozen meatballs from the freezer. It was a simple meal and you were too tired to make something complicated. As you stir in the pasta, you feel Wilbur creep up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist. You freeze for a moment, but sigh loudly as you feel his breath on the side of your neck. He could practically hear the blood flowing through your veins. You shake your head.

“Wilbur.” You say sternly. “Don’t you dare bite me.” He listens to that much. Instead, he leans close and licks a stripe up your neck, stopping up by your ear. You shiver beneath his touch and turn your head.

“What? I listened.” He speaks in a low, snarky tone. You glance down to his mouth. his fangs. If he wasn’t a vampire that wanted to drain you of your life, maybe you’d be attracted to him. Maybe you already were, and just refused to believe it.

“You’re a pain.” “You love me.” You share a short exchange before it falls silent again. “Whatever.” You add before stirring the pasta, allowing it to boil. You cook the rest of your dinner and happily plate it, eager to dig in. You make a plate for Wilbur, just in case. You hear some light chuckles from Will before he turns to sit at the table.

Now, a few minutes later, you two sit silently at the table. You scroll through social media as you eat. Wilbur sort of pushes the food around on the plate and nibbles on a meatball, but his gaze is mostly on you.

He watches your neck, the way it moves when you swallow. The way your collarbones seemed so prominent and bite-able. He scratches at his hands, his nails scratching harshly along his skin to leave red marks. He was hungry, starving! He could barely contain it! He stares at you for a second before he stands up, the chair he sat in flies back and bangs against the wall.

“I’ll be back!” He shouts, hurrying to the bathroom. You watch him for a moment, then hesitantly turn back to your food. Suddenly, you’re not hungry. You dump the plate as well as Wilbur’s, since you know damn well he wouldn’t eat any of that. Meanwhile, Wilbur stares into the sink as his stomach cramps, he turns on the cold water and runs it over his pale hands, then splashes it over his face. He stands up and stares at himself. His hunger only increased. He would grow weaker if he continued to refuse to eat even mortal food. Would he have to resort to his vampiric tendencies and go out during the night, scouring the streets for any poor soul who happened to be alone and were weak and too nervous to fight back? Or, would you finally give in? It wasn't that hard! Was it? No! Wilbur groans. He shuts off the sink and takes a breath before slapping himself lightly to psych himself out. “Come on Wilbur. Be better, fuckin’ creep.” He mutters to himself before going back out to the living room, where you’re sat on the couch.

“Sorry! Had an emergency!” He smiles at you, but you only blink a few times out of confusion and stand up. “What happened…? You were fine five minutes ago.” “Oh! You know. Drank a lot of water today.” He lies, and you easily catch on. Curse you for paying such close attention to him. “You never drink water, you damn liar.” You cross your arms and shift your weight on your feet. Wilbur gulps, shaking his head. “I felt like it today.” “God you think I’m stupid.” You scoff with a disbelieving laugh. “What?? When did I ever say I thought you’re stupid?” Wilbur shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “You didn’t have to say it!” You retort, “You thinking your lie would work said enough.” You cross your arms over your chest and Wilbur puts his hands up in defense. “Okay, whatever. Sorry.” He mumbles. “It’s always sorry with you. Either sorry or, ‘can I please have some of your blood? Can I please have a taste? Just a bit?” Wilbur seems to shrink into himself and his face flushes, if that was even possible for him. Could vampires blush? “It’s pathetic and embarrassing! I don’t get it. Maybe the fact you—“ You pause and take a long breath.

“Wilbur.” You say after a long silence. There was only one way to get him to stop begging, and that was just to give him what he wanted. He looks up from his shameful slump and looks at you. “…yeah?” His voice is as small as his height. What a loser. “Shut the fuck up, and I’ll let you,, um, I’ll let you.. feed.” Wilbur’s eyes instantly light up. He nods rapidly and does his silly little hand-flaps he does when excited. “Yes! Really?? Oh, thank you!I’ll never ask again!!” He says, absolutely elated that you finally agreed. You take a deep breath and approach him, his eyes glimmering. “Just... don’t make it awkward.” You practically beg, not wanting it to be weird as he quite literally feeds of your blood. What am I saying,,, of course it would be weird! Your roommate would be just drinking your blood. “I’ll do my best,” He chuckles nervously and approaches you. “Are you sure this is okay?” He asks, nervously fidgeting with is hands. You shift your weight awkwardly on your feet before nodding. “As long as you leave me alone when you’re done.” “Of course.”

Another moment of awkward silence… it seemed like there were a lot of those lately.

“I…” he pauses, nervously tapping his fingers against your shirt. “Your wrist.” He says after a moment. “What?” You ask, tilting your head. “It— it’ll hurt less. And um, won’t be as much blood. Like, imagine just getting a blood sample at the doctor.” You could tell Wilbur was growing nervous. He never really expected you to say yes to… this. “Oh, right.” You whisper and nod, holding out your wrist. He grabs your arm and guides you to the couch, sitting you down, “Just incase you get.. dizzy.” He runs his thumb over the blue vein that ran along your arm, displaying the precious liquid he’s craved for so long.

His breathing picks up as he lifts your arm to his mouth. He shudders as he can feel the heat radiating off your body, and his mouth waters. He can’t take it anymore. You notice his grip tighten on your arm. “Go ahead.” You whisper after a second. Wilbur nods and then finds the perfect spot, the pulse of your wrist. He opens his mouth and without warning, sinks his fangs right into your vein. Making sure his teeth went deep enough to draw blood. You gasp at the pain, flinching slightly despite expecting it. Wilbur pulls his mouth away for a second and allows some of the blood to pool before sticking out his tongue and lapping up the blood, humming with contentment as he licks up each and every drop. You see the blood, the way it smears over his tongue and lips as he messily drinks it up. your breathing picks up, uneven. He slows down and looks up so his eyes meet yours. You two hold eye contact, Wilbur’s tongue slips out and slides along your skin, stopping the blood that beads up every time he pulls away. Your hand finds it was to his chin, light cupping it as he holds your forearm. “What’re you-“ he whispers, his face lifting from your arm so it was more level with yours. “I— I just..”you shake your head, not so sure what had taken over you. “Is this going to.. change me? You know… like..” You gesture to the bite marks on his neck that were poorly hidden with makeup, and he tilts his head. “Uh- um-“ he stutters out, shrugging. “I don’t know..” He whispers nervously. “I hope you do.” his voice is quiet. “Because I would love to spend the rest of time with you.”

Your eyes widen and your face seem to burn. The stinging in your wrist fades right before Will glances down at it once more. The blood was pooling, threatening to drip over your wrist and right onto the grey couch. You tilt his head back up to meet your gaze again. “You.. want to stay, with me?” Your voice is a bit shaky, head tilting. “Ye— yeah.” Wilbur’s gaze holds yours, he leans closer. And closer, and closer. “I don’t think I would want to spend my life with anyone else.” He adds. Just another inch, he thinks. You swallow the saliva filling your mouth, feeling slightly sick as the blood still spills from your wrist. You have no words for Will. Nothing to say in response to his sudden confession. Not that you had the chance to, because as soon as you went to speak, his lips collide with yours. You momentarily forget the feeling of blood running down toward your fingers as you feel his cold lips on yours. They’re cold, but soft. Softer than you expected. It’s slow at first but soon he scoots himself further, his lips part and his tongue hungrily presses to your lips. He’s practically begging to let him in. So, you do. You part your lips and are instantly met with the metallic taste of your own blood. Your hand moves from his chin to hold his cheek, your blood spreading across his face, in the shape of your hand. The kisses spread, his lips moving down your neck where he simply kisses your skin, but after a moment, his teeth graze your throat. his breath is hot and wet against your skin. You let out a quiet, choked sound at the feeling. Your stomach twists into knots and you can feel the emotions you’ve packed away rushing through your veins, almost at the same speed as your blood pumping through them.

“Do it,” you whisper, tilting your head back a bit. “Please..” You nearly beg, and he nods, smirking against your skin. It’s another second before you feel his fangs sink into your neck. he makes sure it’s higher up on your carotid artery so it bleeds less, hopeful you would turn, joining him in immortality. His teeth remain in your skin and your hands begin to tremble with the pain that’s followed by pleasure. Your eyes pinch shut tightly, ignoring the pain as best you can. He soon pulls away and sweetly licks away the blood before kissing the area.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been since the first bite, nor what time it was now. But Wilbur was fed and happy, so that’s what really mattered.

He comes back with a towel and glass of water for you, wiping up any of the left over blood that began to dry on your skin. You sip the water and lean back against the couch. As soon as he’s done, Wilbur sets down the towel and curls up next to you, looking up at you with loving eyes. “Thank you.” He whispers, running his fingers over the bite marks on your neck. “Hm?” You hum, looking over to him. “For.. letting me bite you and stuff.” You smile and nods, It wasn’t as big of a deal as you initially thought. “Anything to get you to stop whining.” You tease, and he just grins before rolling his eyes. “Whatever, you seemed to like it.” You couldn’t deny that so you remain silent. Wills arms snake around your waist and he pulls himself close to you. “You excited? Get to deal with me for all of eternity now.” He teases with an obnoxious kiss to the cheek. You nod.

“I can’t wait.”

#wilbur soot #argbur #simpbur #simpbur x you #bursonas #simpbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #bursonafied #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #vampire #vampbur #gn reader #gender neutral reader #wilbur #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur x y/n #revivebur #argbur x you

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simp-king-noshi · 5 months

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐛𝐮𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝒲𝒜ℛ𝒩ℐ𝒩𝒢𝒮：𝒦𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈，𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀ℯ𝓇 𝓁𝒾𝓀ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝒽𝒶𝓋ℴ𝓇，𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 ℴ𝓃ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓈 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝓈ℴ𝓃𝒶𝓈 𝓈ℴ 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝓃ℴ𝓉 𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝒷𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝓉𝓌， ℛℰ𝒜𝒟 𝒜𝒯 𝒴𝒪𝒰ℛ 𝒪𝒲𝒩 ℛℐ𝒮𝒦

I woke up due to the sound of my alarm clock, or so I thought. But instead of waking up in my comfy bed with my f/c sheats, and s/f/c blanket, I Instead woke up tied to a chair, tape on my mouth. I didn’t try to scream or move, knowing whatever, or whoever trapped me, could be in here with me. I didn’t feel like dying today. “Hello, darling!~” I heard a male's voice say. Before a large shadow came. Sweat dripped down my forehead. I saw a freakishly tall male. Around 6,6. He had fluffy brown hair, brown eyes, a black jumper and a marvelous british accent. He bent down, making eye contact. My eyes widened. Out of fear, I began to struggle to get out. Chains moving around echoed, in the cold, dark basement of this stranger's house. “Woah, calm down” The unknown stranger said, trying to calm me down. I stopped for a moment, to hear what he had to say. “I’m Wilbur Soot. I’m not gonna hurt you” He said as he grabbed the tape on my mouth, ripping it off, slowly and painfully. “W-where am I!” I stuttered, still unsure of who this guy is. He then stood up to his full height, his cold, crazy in love gaze focused on me. “At my house of course” He said, as if this was normal for him. “W-what do you w-want from me!” I stuttered out again. “I just want you Y/N.” ‘How does he know my name?’ I thought, looking down at the chains holding me down, attempting to get out again. “Here let me help you,” Wilbur said, bending down, grabbing the chain. Slowly removing it, and throwing it on the floor. He then reached out to me, putting his hand on my cheek, Feeling his warm breath on my face. Causing. my heart stop. Tears started to come out. My breath hitched. “What's wrong dear?” He asked, I looked away, only for him to push my head back towards him. I wanted to slap him, run away. His smile looked insane. His hair was everywhere, He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, or hadn’t showered in a really long time..

After about an hour, my stomach growled. It's been a day since I've eaten anything. “Hungry darling~” Wilbur said, forcing eye contact. I hesitated. ‘I could use this for an escape… maybe. “Y-yes” I said, sounding more confident than earlier. “Ok dear, don’t try and escape.” He hummed before going up the stairs, and who knows where. After what seemed to be 9 seconds I got up, and sprinted up the stairs, towards the door. Grabbing the knob, twisting it slowly, pushing it open a tad bit. Peeking to see if anyone’s there… I push the door open and sprint towards the front door, almost reaching it! Before feeling the worst pain ever, I fell to the floor with a thud. Blood dripped down my leg. My breath picked up, my face swelled up with tears, my vision now blurry. Wet salty tears falling down my cheeks. I closed my eyes hoping for a quick death. Before feeling warm lips against mine. Hands going around my waist pulling me up, I opened my eyes, to see a blurred Wilbur. I struggled to get out of his grasp, but his grip just got tighter, to the point it hurt. I started to run out of oxygene, tears just kept falling. It finally ended. “Be a good [INSERT PRONOUN}” He whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. He loosened his grip, causing me to push him away. I attempted to run, before falling. I looked down to see a knife's blade stuffed into my left thigh, blood coming out of the cut. Tears threatened to fall. “Look what I had to do dear” He said, scooping my figure up, arms around my torso. I felt a strange pain on my head, my vision was blurry, before everything went black.

-THE END

#simpbur x reader #simpbur x you #Simpbur

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lumiheartszz · 3 months

Note

Soft morning sex with simpbur

Also can I be 🫀 Anon?

I LOOOOOVE SIMPBUR i have written so many diabolical discord chats about that man

WELCOME 🫀 ANON !!

Stay in bed with me.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The morning sun shone through the blinds as the smell of petrichor roamed within the vicinity. It was wonderful, really, it all was.

Your alarm goes off, effectively waking both you and your lover up from your deep slumber. Your eyes fluttered open as the sun greeted you with it's golden rays. Wilbur stirred, still half-asleep. He buried his head into your neck, taking in your scent. He had always loved how you smelled, it's overwhelming in a good way, or so he said.

"Good morning, Wilbur." A smile graced your face as you looked at your beautiful lover bathing in the sun's golden shower. He always smelled of ramen and monster, not that you mind.

When there was no response, you had to repeat yourself. "... good morning, Wilbur." You greeted with a more stern tone instead of a cheery one. This, of course, reached the brunette's ears, but he still didn't reply.

You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, he held your waist, pulling your body against his. You felt his hardened cock push against your ass. He was obviously asking for something here.

"I'm assuming you had a nice dream?" You teased, giggling as he whined into the crook of your neck.

"Jus'... please let me fuck you, angel..." he whispered, grinding against you. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan as his cock rubbed against you. You felt yourself starting to get wet as he teased your sensitive nipples, caressing them into being hard.

His hands keep squeezing your tits, fingers skillfully playing with your nipples in order for slick to further coat your folds. "Such a good girl... getting all wet and nice for me..." A few breathy moans escape you as you ground your ass against his hard-on. Wilbur's lips remained attached to your neck as he starts taking your shorts and panties off.

"Such a pretty girl for me. My sweet angel..." he breathily mumbled into your skin, freeing his cock from it's restraints. His lips thoroughly explore your neck and shoulder as he positioned himself right at your entrance, before slowly pushing in, being careful as not to hurt you.

You squirmed from how full you felt. Wilbur is a very tall person, so it isn't a surprise that he's this huge. "Fuck... so, so tight, princess...." he whispered as he slowly thrusted into you, soft moans escaping your throat as his cock slowly dragged against your sensitive walls.

He gradually got faster, his hand reaching for your clit before rubbing it to give you the most pleasure imaginable. You were a whiny, moaning mess while he groaned and grunted behind you. "Shit, you're taking me so well... so, so well, my sweet girl..." he praised, kissing you on the lips before hitting your G- spot. You let out a sharp gasp as you started to move against him, too. When your noises started to get louder, he knew you were close and slowed down, but he made up for it by deepening his cock into you, reaching spots you never could on your own.

Until finally, the sweet feeling of release crashed upon you, along with the feeling of his cum flood your hole.

"That's my angel. You did so well for me, my dove, so well." He whispered into your sweet skin as his fingers trudged through them.

♡

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x reader smut #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot x you #simpbur

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saccharinesunsetretired · 5 months

Text

Wilbur Soot’s Guide to Side Hustles | camboy!Simpbur x camgirl!reader | Part One

My first ever series on this blog yayayayay! Also first time writing Simpbur. No fucking clue when the next chapter will be up though. Could be next week. Could be a month. Life contains many mysteries.

Summary: Wilbur has had a long line of obsessions in his time. In a desperate attempt to get the attention he craves, he starts making content online. When he encounters you at a party full of other creators...well, he's never been good at staying away from things that draw him in, and you may very well be his undoing.

Warnings/Tags: sub!Simpbur, dom!reader. Unrealistic sex/depictions of sex work (although I did try), smut, pegging, general simpbur creepiness, discussions of virignity/consent, low self-esteem and insecurity problems, unhealthy attitudes toward sex. Reader is AFAB and a woman

Word Count: 11.3k

MINORS DNI - BLOGS WITHOUT AN AGE INDICATOR GET BLOCKED, NO EXCEPTIONS

“Hey, creep.”

Wilbur blinked and looked up from his math textbook. Standing right in front of him was a girl from his English course, a girl he’d had a crush on for years. They had never actually spoken. Instead, he’d done what he did best—watched from afar and stayed out of it. For a moment, despite her harshness, he just stared, basking in her attention.

She laughed, and her friends laughed from a few desks away as they looked on. “Do you know how to speak?” she asked.

“Y-yeah,” he said. He could feel his cheeks burning. “What’s, um…what’s up?”

“‘What’s up’?” The girl laughed again. “I’ve seen you hovering near my locker, you fucking pervert.”

Wilbur froze. “I-I wasn’t—“

“Oh, you weren’t?” She leaned against a nearby desk. “Who’s been leaving me notes, then?”

Wilbur wanted nothing more than to curl up in a hole. He had been leaving notes. And admittedly, yes, some of them were creepier than others. The notes ranged from Good luck on midterms :) to You looked so hot in class today. And despite Wilbur’s general lack of self-awareness, he recognized how this looked. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll stop.”

“If you don’t, I’m reporting you,” she replied. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

“Got it.” Wilbur had never felt more embarrassed. The other students began to whisper. He could feel a million eyes on him—well, what felt like a million, at least. “I’m so, so sorry.” He stared at his desk as his eyes stung.

“Good.” The girl stood there for another few moments. “It’s a waste,” she said. “You could almost be cute, if you weren’t such a freak.”

Present Day

You could almost be cute if you weren’t such a freak.

Wilbur remembered that, because of course he did. It was the closest he ever got to someone returning his affections. Yes, he knew it was pathetic, but that shred of affirmation went a long way.

He started bettering himself. It started with better hygiene, not wearing clothes multiple days in a row, properly washing his hair. His parents had been bothering him to do that for ages, anyway. He dressed better, tried to socialize. That last point didn’t go too well. He got bullied to the point that he ended up switching schools and had to deal with the fact that at least a bit of it was warranted.

He never saw that crush of his ever again. He developed new ones, new fixations. He didn’t leave notes, though, or stalk anyone or do anything to arouse suspicion. He promised himself that he could be normal, that he would be normal.

Well, perhaps he’d intentionally switched classes a few times to “keep an eye on” some of the people he became fixated on. But was that such a big deal?

And then university came. Loans, what felt like a million dollars in debt. One night, the result of a drunken decision, he filmed himself getting off. On an even more questionable drunken decision, he posted it online to some internet forum he had only heard of in passing. The second he remembered it the next day (after recovering physically a bit from his previous drinking binge), he was absolutely mortified. And yet, to his immense surprise, people liked it. It wasn’t any sort of viral sensation, of course, but he had a decent number of comments when he woke up in the morning. At first, he was put off by the vulgarity of it, but then, he realized that this was how he could get the high that he’d always craved—attention.

He started working on it. Filming videos, uploading photos. Pretty soon, he had an OnlyFans account going. His content was mostly solo stuff, webcam livestreams and private chats with his more dedicated followers. To his surprise, he started making decent money. It was nice to have something to help relieve some of the university debt. Plus, the validation was nice, even if it was only in praise of his body.

Besides, he had long given up the idea of anybody loving him for anything other than that.

Online, his persona was more submissive. It was easier for him, not having to fake confidence that he didn’t have. Instead, he could let himself moan as loud as he wanted, let the microphone pick up every small gasp and whine as he got himself off either with his hands or one of the million toys that he’d purchased since starting the job. The needier he looked, the better.

Then, he found the confidence to do his first collaboration. The benefits of moving to a larger area for university were plenty, but one of the biggest benefits turned out to be the fact that he was far from the only sex worker in the city. He lost his virginity to a girl on a livestream, although she didn’t know it was his first time. At least, she pretended not to know. Wilbur got the feeling that she could tell. Either way, it had made good content. In fact, it had been so profitable that she had invited him to a small gathering of some other creators—sex workers of all types.

And that was how he ended up holding a can of cheap beer in the corner of a party. It was at someone’s apartment, someone he didn’t know and didn’t care to know. The music was far too loud, the conversation too overwhelming. For a moment, Wilbur was sixteen again, sitting at his desk and wanting to disappear.

At least, until you walked in. You, dressed to the nines for a simple house party. For a moment, he locked eyes with you, and he nearly forgot how to breathe. He looked away first, too intimidated, too afraid. However, he watched out of the corner of his eye as you walked into the kitchen to greet the host of the party and grab a drink.

When you reentered the living room, Wilbur’s eyes immediately went back to you. Suddenly, it was as if nobody else was there. He could feel it creeping up on him again, the beginning of an obsession.

Be normal, he reminded himself. Don’t be a creep.

He watched as you greeted almost everyone at the party, flawlessly interacting with the guests. Clearly, you knew your way around. Eventually, you made your way over to Wilbur. He took a sip of his beer to try and appear casual, only to choke slightly.

“Shit, didn’t mean to startle you,” you said, chuckling. “You alright?” You leaned against the wall right beside him, so close that he could smell your shampoo. Or maybe it was perfume. He couldn’t tell, and honestly didn’t care to discern the difference.

“Fine,” Wilbur replied. He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. You caught me mid-sip.”

“My bad, stranger.” You offered your hand. “I’m Y/N. And you’re Wilbur, right? Allison told me about you.”

Wilbur hesitantly shook your hand before pulling his own hand away suspiciously quick. “Right, yeah,” Wilbur replied. “We did a livestream earlier.”

“I heard. Apparently it was a hit.” You briefly glanced at your phone before tucking it back in your pocket. “And you’re new on the scene…?”

“Yeah, pretty new.” Wilbur shrugged, trying to play it cool and relax his nerves. “That was my first non-solo livestream.” And my first time having sex ever his mind reminded him. Because people only want you if they can profit.

He shook the thought away as you spoke again. “Damn. Pretty good for your first time, then.” You grinned at him. “Most people don’t get this kind of attention so quickly.”

“It’s…definitely been a surprise to me,” Wilbur agreed. A tense silence passed between you and Wilbur. “So…you also do the whole…camgirl thing?” He thought that he’d heard of you in passing, but before, he’d had no reason to look you up.

“Yeah! Two years and going. Still doing mostly solo stuff, but trying to branch out a little,” you replied. “It can be difficult to know who to trust in this industry, who genuinely has your best interests at heart and who is taking advantage.”

“I bet.” Wilbur set his beer aside. It wasn’t that good, anyway. “Do you like it?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes yes. Other times no. Depends on how creepy people are that day.”

Wilbur laughed, nodding in agreement. He watched you as you took a sip of your own drink, some sort of cocktail. “But you make good money?” he asked. His frenzied mind attempted to come up with some flirtatious lines, but nothing else left his mouth. Considering how cringy all the lines were, it was for the better.

“Decent money,” you replied. “And you?”

“Decent money.”

“Cool.” Wilbur felt slightly uneasy as you eyed him up and down. “Hand me your phone,” you said after a moment.

Wilbur blinked. “Why?” he asked. Despite his questioning, he unlocked his phone and handed it over without complaint.

“So I can give you my number,” you replied. You began entering your contact information. “Not to be too forward, but the main reason I came to this party was just to network. Like I said, I’m branching out, and it seems that you’re doing the same.” You handed his phone back. “Maybe we could collab.”

Wilbur felt his heart hammering in his chest. The room felt like it was spinning, and considering he’d only had half a beer, he definitely couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “Oh. Um…you sure?”

You smirked. “You seem harmless enough, Wil. Besides, we can talk a bit beforehand, get to know each other a little. I’d rather not fuck someone without knowing a bit about them.”

“Fair.” Wilbur very shakily tucked his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He noticed you starting to leave. “We’ll be in touch, then?” he asked.

You winked. “You can count on it.” Only a moment later, you disappeared into the crowd.

Wilbur left the party immediately after. He saw no point in staying if he couldn’t talk with you more. Even after that sliver of conversation, everyone else at the party seemed even more dull than before. He got into the back of a taxi, trying (and failing) to make his brain go quiet.

All he could think about was your skin under the multicolored lights at the party, the sound of your laugh, the brightness of your smile. He checked his phone, and all he could think about was the fact that your hands had touched it less than fifteen minutes prior. And maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right he would get to touch you for real.

He imagined your hands on him, fingers curled around his cock. Nobody had ever given him a handjob before, but he (for better or worse) had always had a vivid imagination. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the window of the cab as he imagined it, your fingers on him. He tried to imagine every detail, the texture of your fingertips, the tone of voice you would use as you praised him.

By the time the taxi dropped him off outside his apartment building, he was achingly hard. He made it to his studio apartment, took off his coat and shoes, and immediately sat on his bed. He opened his laptop and searched for your name.

Sure enough, he found your OnlyFans, as well as the few free teaser clips that you’d uploaded elsewhere. There you were, a vibrator on your clit in one clip, your fingers teasing your own nipples as you moaned for the camera.

He slammed the laptop shut. No, he told himself. No more obsessions. If you manage to make this work, all she’ll be to you is a colleague, a coworker.

Don’t be a creep.

He got out of bed and made it to the bathroom, where he stripped, tossed his clothes in the hamper, and turned on the shower. A cold shower would do the trick, he figured. Admittedly, he’d never actually tried the method, but it was the best he could think of. He could scrub away all thoughts of you, get rid of his hard-on, and call it a night.

He shivered as the cold water hit him. It felt fucking awful, cold water on his skin when all he wanted was warmth, but he toughed it out, waiting for his “problem” to resolve itself.

But it was no use. All he could think about was the sound of you moaning in that video, gorgeous lips parted, legs spread. He couldn’t help but wish he could hear you moan for real, not the fake sort of moans that are exaggerated for the camera.

He gave up after a while and got out, wrapping his lower body in a towel as he did a walk of shame back to his bed. He sat on the towel and reopened his laptop.

He found your OnlyFans page, and without thinking, he subscribed. He wasn’t sure if you could see his username if he used his official account, so he made another guest account. You were worth the inconvenience. He started to scroll. He saw a clip of you and Allison, you grinding against her thigh. Another clip showed you edging yourself into oblivion, cheeks flushed, eyes watering. That was the clip he finally settled on.

He edged himself along with the video, stopping whenever you stopped. If your hand stopped moving, so would his. In his mind, it felt almost like mutual masturbation, like you were really there doing this with him. He imagined you watching him, murmuring praise to him.

It wasn’t often that he got off without toys, not because he couldn’t, but because he was almost always filming his orgasms, and thus toys were usually involved. Despite not having any added vibration or stimulation, he came harder simply from touching himself while watching your videos than he had in months.

He laid there afterward, his own cum on his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut. You’re absolutely hopeless, he told himself.

And yet, he couldn’t stop now. Not when you were so close.

It took Wilbur three days to work up the courage to text you, and from then on, conversation flowed naturally. At first, it was small talk about the industry—which people did you know, how many parties had you been to, what sort of content were you interested in making, and on and on and on. Wilbur was honest, admitting his lack of experience in the world of sex work, although he didn’t admit his lack of sexual experience in general. If he did, he might scare you off or make you hesitant, and he didn’t want that.

Conversation then turned to more personal matters. Still surface level, yes, but less detached than talks of industry and networking. He learned that you were a camgirl on the side, using the funds to add to the money you made from waitressing as you saved up. He also learned your favorite restaurant in the city (which he offered to take you to sometime, delighted when you accepted the offer) as well as your favorite bands, books, movies…all the surface-level questions he could hope to get answers for.

To his dismay, two weeks of texts went by without you mentioning possibly meeting up to film together. Just when he thought that was off the table and this would only amount to friendship, his phone buzzed as he was working on an essay. He picked it up, assuming it would be either one of his parents or a spam call, and grinned when he saw your name. You were requesting a FaceTime call, so he quickly smoothed his hair before answering.

“Hey!” you said cheerfully. Wilbur was so relieved to see your face, not just on your OnlyFans, but you, you choosing for him to see you. You looked like you were fresh out of the shower, and he realized quickly that you weren’t wearing a shirt. He couldn’t see anything below your shoulders, but the realization still had him speechless for a moment before he regained his composure.

“Hi!” he said back with equal cheerfulness. “How’re you?” He flicked on another light in his apartment so that you could see him better.

“Good,” you replied. A moment of silence passed. “Listen, are you free Saturday?”

“Yeah, why?” The truth was, Wilbur wasn’t free Saturday. He was in a study group for an upcoming exam, but at that moment, he decided that he didn’t give a shit. He would happily flunk an exam if it meant getting to spend more time with you. He had only seen you in person once, and only for a tiny moment in time, and all he had thought about since then was getting more.

“I have a business idea,” you said. Wilbur watched as you sat down on a couch at what must be your apartment. He caught a glimpse of the top of a towel wrapped around your torso, and although this thought made him slightly disgusted with himself, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. Still, his disappointment only lasted a second once your words sunk in.

“A business idea?” He immediately perked up. “What is it?” His mind went wild with possibilities. A livestream? Some short clips? A whole homemade porn film?

“So…your online persona is more on the submissive side, right?” you asked.

Wilbur’s brows furrowed. “How did you know?” Although the two of you had talked about the industry, bonded over creeps on the internet and the like, the details of your content had gone mostly undiscussed.

He noticed the rather sheepish expression on your face. “I may have done some research,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

His heart skipped a beat, and he had to fight to keep himself calm. You had done research on him? That meant you had definitely seen some of his content, and not only that, but seeing his content made you more interested. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared. If it were anybody else, he wouldn’t have cared, but you? You, the subject of his obsession (he’d finally admitted to himself that’s what it was), the person he thought of every night before going to bed, thought he was desirable? Maybe not desirable, but at least worthy of seeing, worthy of working with. That was enough.

“It’s not weird!” he reassured you. “I…I may have done the same.” He did not tell you that he had a whole folder on his laptop that was only clips of you, that he’d labeled each video, that he’d gotten himself off to every single one. He definitely didn’t tell you that while filming himself the day prior, he’d been thinking of you the entire time. No, that was too much. That was creepy, that was obsession…but based on your admission, he figured a bit of the truth couldn’t hurt.

Thankfully, you reacted positively. “Thank god,” you said, laughing softly. “I thought you’d think I was a pervert.”

“No! No, of course not,” he said quickly. “I would never.” He settled his back against the headboard of his bed. “So, anyway, what was the idea?”

“Well, as I was saying,” you continued, “your persona is more on the submissive side. I portray myself as more dominant. Very convenient for us, no?” Wilbur nodded along as you spoke. “I was wondering…” You trailed off. “I can be forward with you, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer it that way.”

“Great! How do you feel about getting pegged?” A moment of silence passed as Wilbur’s brain completely short-circuited. He didn’t realize how long he’d been quiet until you spoke again. “Okay, uh…maybe I was too blunt.” He heard your awkward laugh through the phone.

“No! No, not too blunt at all. I’m fine with it,” he replied. “Yeah, no, that sounds great.” He tried to hide the nervous undertone to his voice. Using toys on himself is one thing; being on the receiving end of someone else’s movements is another. “I’d be down for that.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. “You were quiet for a moment, there.”

“Yeah! Yes, I’m completely sure,” Wilbur replied. “You want to, um, livestream that? Or are we just filming…?”

“Just filming,” you replied. “Having sex live is way more complicated. This way, we can try a couple different angles to see what looks best on camera.”

“Right.” Wilbur took a deep breath. “That sounds good. You said Saturday?”

“Saturday, yeah,” you responded. “And I was thinking we do it at my place. No offense, I’m sure your setup is nice, but I’ve been in the game a bit longer. I’ve probably got nicer gear.”

“That’s great. Sounds good.” Wilbur’s nerves kicked up a few more notches. He was going to embarrass himself, he just knew it. He was going to walk in, immediately get hard just looking at your setup (which was already somewhat familiar to him) and look like a loser. He tried to shove that thought away.

Thankfully, it seemed that you sensed his discomfort. “Listen, uh…I know that you’ve only done something like this once,” you said. “If you ever change your mind, you can leave. I won’t judge you for that, even if we’re in the middle of filming. Consent rules don’t magically go away when there are cameras rolling.”

Wilbur’s heart thumped in his chest. You were smiling warmly at him over FaceTime, and he wanted nothing more than to be there with you. His thoughts weren’t sexual, at least not in the moment.

His mind wandered. When was the last time he’d been held by somebody? He’d never once been held by somebody who liked him romantically. He wasn’t sure that anyone outside his family had ever so much as hugged him. The thought made him dizzy. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

“Don’t thank me. It’s basic decency.” You continued smiling at him. “Oh, we don’t have a time set. Does one work?”

“One is fine,” Wilbur replied. “I’m totally cool with one.”

“Sounds good. Saturday at one, then,” you said. “Be ready to film.”

“I’ll be ready,” Wilbur promised. He just hoped that it was a promise he could keep.

He spent the rest of the week panicking. He shoved himself into schoolwork, studying, finishing up the essay that you had distracted him from. On Saturday morning, he woke up, shaved, took a shower, blow-dried his hair and got dressed. He knew that the clothes would be coming off, but he tried to dress somewhat nice anyway. He figured that even his nicest jeans and a button-up would be fine. He kept reminding himself that a business encounter was all this interaction would be.

Around noon, he got a text from you:

Hey ;) ready to film?

He quickly replied.

Born ready. Send your address?

The next message contained your address. He took a deep breath, brushed his teeth (for the third time that day) and set off. He left his apartment, got into his car, and started driving.

He put on a playlist on the way there, one he had made containing music from your favorite bands. He kept constantly checking himself in the mirror to the point where he realized he would hit something if he didn’t stop. He was an absolute wreck of nerves.

He pulled into the apartment parking lot and got out of his car. He walked into the building, took the elevator…

And there was your door. He stepped toward it and hesitantly knocked three times. The wait was agonizing. He stood outside the door for a minute before you opened it.

“Sorry!” you said. “I was in the middle of getting the lighting set up. Come in!”

“No worries.” He followed you inside. Your apartment was immaculately clean, with enough decorations to add character without being overwhelming. He followed you down the short hallway to your bedroom.

Sure enough, it took a lot to keep himself calm the second he stepped through the door. The whole place smelled like you, and it was enough to make him lightheaded. He looked at the setup, and it was honestly impressive. You had a professional-level camera setup, multiple lights, and cameras at various angles. “This is…wow,” he said. “You know your shit.”

“I’m a professional.” You winked at him as you adjusted the angle on one of the cameras. “Okay, so…a bit unconventional, but we’re going to do a test of sorts to make sure that the angles on the cameras are correct. Is that alright?”

Wilbur shrugged. “As you said, you’re the professional. I’ll let you call the shots.” He had no idea what a “test” would entail, but he wasn’t about to question it. He stood off to the side, watching you as you worked. Your white tank top left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Great.” You adjusted one of the lights, lowering it slightly. “What do you think? Too bright in here?”

Come to think of it, it was a little blinding. “Maybe a bit softer,” Wilbur suggested.

“Good idea.” You nodded in agreement and dimmed the lights. “Better?”

“Better.” Wilbur took a few deep breaths. “We good to go?”

“Good to go.” You sat on the bed, examining the angles from your sitting point, clearly trying to decide if they were any good. “Yeah, definitely good to go.”

“Okay, then.” Wilbur stood there awkwardly. “What, um, what do I do?”

“Like I said, I want to test the angles before we start actually filming.” Wilbur watched as you pressed record on all the cameras. “I figure we just experiment with a few positions, see how the camera captures it. You can stay dressed if you want—-like I said, this is just a test.”

“Alright,” Wilbur murmured. He sat on the bed and nearly froze when you cupped his cheek. His face was so close to yours that he could barely breathe.

“You still okay with this?” you asked, searching him for any sign of hesitation. He nodded. This was terrifying, but the thought of walking away was even scarier. “Good.” Mere seconds later, you pressed your lips to his.

It took him a second to kiss back, but once he started, he never wanted to stop. Your lips were soft against his, just testing the waters at first. He had no idea where to put his hands, but he didn’t have to think about it for long, as you quickly pushed him onto his back. He made a small noise as you got on top of him and continued kissing him.

Wilbur didn’t consider himself a good kisser. It wasn’t like he had much experience. The kisses became rushed and sloppy, and just as he started to settle into the rhythm, you were getting off of him and checking the camera footage. He sat there, dazed, as you made your way around the edge of the bed, checking what the cameras picked up. You were explaining something about the process, something about lighting and shadow and…whatever else, Wilbur wasn’t listening. He could still taste you, still feel your lips against his.

He only snapped back to reality when you approached the side of the bed again. “You still okay with the pegging thing?” you asked.

“Yes,” he breathed out. He could feel how hard he was, the slight friction against his jeans, but he didn’t have it in him to be embarrassed anymore. Who cared if this was just for work, just for content? He was about to have you, and having you in any capacity was better than not having you at all.

“Alright, then.” He watched as you opened a nearby dresser. “I have a couple things that you can choose from…” You pulled out a box and set it on the edge of the bed. He scooted closer as you opened it, his throat catching at the array of items. “These are all the toys I have that are compatible with the harness,” you explained. “I’d rather us not start filming until the main event, so to speak. We can get you all prepped before that.”

He nodded, breath catching in his throat. “Sounds good,” he choked out. He glanced over the collection of toys. Some of them were definitely too big for him, so he avoided them. His eyes finally landed on a pink dildo, just slightly bigger than the one he’d used in a recent clip. “That one, maybe?” He pointed.

“Good choice,” you said. “Just got this one.” You picked it out of the box and laid it on the bed. Wilbur’s eyes stayed on you as he watched you gather more stuff—-the strap-on harness, some lube, a buttplug. You went about it with the precision of a doctor gathering medical supplies. It was both hot and slightly unnerving.

“Do we have everything?” Wilbur asked. He shifted slightly, both to get comfortable and because it was difficult to sit still when he was so close to you.

“Yep! We’re set.” You sat back down on the bed close to him. He shuddered as you rested your hand on his thigh. “Still okay?”

“Still okay,” Wilbur confirmed. He closed his eyes as you leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back, less sloppy this time, less desperate. He wanted to be able to contain himself, at least a little. He didn’t know what you’d think of him if he appeared too needy.

Your gentle hands pushed him backward, and he laid down on your soft mattress, eyes unfocused as he looked up at you. He pulled you in for another kiss, and whined as your tongue found his. The sound was pathetic in his mind, but it seemed to spur you on further. He gasped as you grinded against him. Even though it was only the tiniest bit of friction, it was one of the best things he’d ever felt. His hands wandered to your waist, sliding under your tank top. It was the boldest thing Wilbur had done so far, and he was more than pleased when you leaned further into his touch.

A moment later, your lips left his. He frowned for only a split second before realizing why. When he opened his eyes, your hands were brushing against his as you took off your tank top, leaving absolutely nothing underneath.

He stared. He couldn’t help it. He wanted so badly to touch all of it—-your stomach, your bare waist, your chest. It was almost too much. His cheeks went red as he heard you laugh softly. “Enjoying the view?” you teased.

“Oh! Um…sorry,” he said sheepishly. He forced his eyes upward, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. To his surprise, there was no sign of disgust or embarrassment on your face, only amusement. “You’re just gorgeous. Couldn’t help it.”

“Of course I am. How else would I have gotten this job?” You smirked down at him, and he managed to laugh despite his nerves. “In all seriousness,” you said, “thank you. You’re pretty good-looking yourself.”

It was one of the more tame comments he’d gotten in recent times, but it was by far the best. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice coming out as a squeak. Before he could apologize for that, you were kissing him again. Your hands found the buttons of his shirt, and he helped you take it off without hesitation. His mind went blank as your hands wandered his skin, tracing the lines of his abdomen and chest. He returned the favor, letting his hands wander a little. He held back, not squeezing or grasping, just lightly touching.

You slid out of your shorts, and Wilbur fumbled with the button of his jeans. Once he undid that, you got his zipper for him. You lifted yourself up for a moment so that Wilbur could remove his jeans. He shivered as his bare skin met the cool air of your room, then frowned as you got off of him. “We should get you ready,” you said. He nodded, finally removing his boxers.

He let them fall to the side of the bed, leaving him completely exposed. He could feel how hot his cheeks were, but you didn’t seem to be judging him for it. In fact, you were focused instead on putting lube on your fingers, occasionally glancing at Wilbur. He shivered, parted his legs without you asking. He laid there for a moment, staring at your ceiling, trying to calm himself. He only had a moment before you were back, settled down beside him. “You ready?” he heard you ask. He could only nod in response.

He felt a finger press inside of him, and he sighed. His eyes closed, his lips parted, and he let himself revel in the feeling. For once, he had someone else’s fingers, someone else’s touch. Of course, only one finger wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a perfect start. He moaned quietly as you moved your finger in and out, slowly, almost teasingly. He spread his legs further for you, and you scooted closer. At one point, your finger curled just enough that it brushed against his prostate, and the moan that he let out was downright desperate. He clasped his hand over his mouth, only for you to move it away. “Where’s the fun in that?” you murmured. He couldn’t even process your words before you brushed his prostate again, and he nearly moaned even louder.

“More?” he questioned. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely…” You slid in another finger and he whined. It was then that a thought occurred to him.

When he used his own fingers or his own toys, he never properly prepped himself. Not ever. It always hurt a little bit, since for him, he was always doing it just for the camera. It made him realize how much he neglected himself when it came to his job, never truly considering his own boundaries or what felt good to him. And yet, here you were, and it didn’t hurt with you at all. Even though this was just for work, just for content, you were being more considerate and gentle with him than he was with himself. He made a mental note to thank you later.

In the meantime, your fingers curled against his prostate, and he let himself moan and whine, gripping at the sheets and breathing heavily. He let his mind go empty, let himself fully relax, let himself be yours even if only for a moment in time. He felt it as you switched between brushing against his prostate and prepping his hole, gently stretching your fingers to spread him a little wider each time. “This feel okay?” you asked.

Wilbur nodded, unable to speak properly. You continued your movements, and Wilbur continued his moans. Your fingers were gone all too soon. Wilbur gasped a few times and forced his hazy vision to focus. “All good?” he asked, a little concerned. He watched as you wiped your hand off with a wet wipe before tossing the wipe in a bedside trash can.

“All good,” you replied. “You feeling ready? I grabbed a plug just in case you wanted to use that for more prep, but if you’re feeling good, I say we go for it.”

“I’m good to just go for it,” Wilbur said. To his surprise, his voice was a lot more steady than it had been. Something about your presence was calming, even in a situation like this that Wilbur had no experience with. He watched as you got the harness ready and strapped it on. Okay, maybe the dildo was a little bigger than he’d originally thought, but he would be fine. He hoped. “Thank you for, um, helping me get ready.”

“Why wouldn’t I help? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” you said. You finished putting on the harness before coating the strap in more lube than was probably necessary, just for good measure. “The nice thing about not working for some big porn company is that we get to do things in our own time. We’re not rushing to fit some director’s schedule.”

Wilbur nodded. “Right.” He’d heard varying things about being in professional pornos from various people in the industry. Experiences ranged from incredibly negative to incredibly positive, depending on the company, the director and any number of other factors. Wilbur was grateful to be making enough money on his own to make this venture worth his while. It was nice not having to risk mistreatment. “Still. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He watched as you pressed “record” on each of the cameras. You turned back to him, your expression focused, methodical. “Ready?”

Wilbur nodded. “Ready. Um…safeword?” He definitely didn’t plan on using it, but it was always better to be safe.

“Is the stoplight system good with you?” Wilbur nodded. He’d never used it, but he knew what it was. “Perfect,” you replied. “Let’s get this show on the road, then.” You smirked, and Wilbur grinned back. All the nerves were gone, replaced with excitement and focus. The cameras were rolling. Time to put on a show.

Wilbur wiggled his hips slightly, getting comfortable as well as a bit closer to you. He glanced at one of the cameras and shifted a little so that it would catch his facial expressions better. His eyes quickly went back to you. He felt your hands on his thighs. “You gonna be good for me?” you asked, your voice a little louder than it had been earlier. He figured it was just for the cameras.

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said, slightly exaggerating the tremble in his voice. From the look in your eyes, you approved. “I-I’ll be good for you. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”

“Yeah?” Your hands ran up and down his thighs, causing him to tremble and shiver. “Then be a good boy, and tell me what you want.”

“I want…I want you to fuck me,” he said. He realized then that he was being too quiet for the cameras to pick up, but thankfully, you saved the scene.

“A little louder, sweetheart. I couldn’t hear you.”

“Fuck me,” Wilbur said, a little louder. “Please.” Despite the fact that it was just an act, he knew that the way you called him sweetheart would be playing on repeat in his head for weeks to come, if not months. His obsession was certainly deep enough for that.

“Good boy.” He felt the tip of the strap press into him, and he gasped. “Aw, already too much?” You asked teasingly.

He shook his head frantically. “No. Not—-not enough. Need more. Please…” He tried to scoot closer to you, to get more, but you shook your head.

“You only get what I give you. Understood?” He nodded. “Good boy.” You continued pressing the strap into him, painfully slow, giving him a chance to adjust to the size of it.

He whined, trying not to arch his back or move too much. Instead, his hands gripped at the sheets. He tilted his head to the side a little bit, right in the view of the camera to show off his face contorted with pleasure. His viewers always liked that; he figured that yours might as well. “Fuck,” he gasped out. “You’re so…so big…”

“Too much for you? Or are you gonna be good and take it?” You pushed the rest of the way in, and despite feeling fuller than he’d ever felt, not an ounce of pain came with it. Wilbur was grateful for that.

“I can be good,” Wilbur promised. “I can take it. I swear I can be good and take it.” He whined as you shifted your hips a little, and his hands went to grasp at your back. “Please. Please start moving. I need—-I need you.” Not even Wilbur could tell at this point where the genuinity ended and the act began.

You grinned. “You’ve been good so far. I feel like you’ve earned a reward.” You started shifting your hips, slow but deep thrusts that had him reeling. You weren’t quite getting his prostate, and he suspected that it was on purpose, you wanting to draw this out longer for the cameras.

Wilbur tilted his head back slightly. His eyes fell half-closed, and he peeked out at you from beneath his lashes. He let his lips remain parted. He suppressed his moans, opting instead for gasps and grunts. It would make better content, he figured, if he could start small and build up to it. It was taking a lot of effort to hold back.

“More?” he asked meekly, trying to make his voice loud enough for the cameras, yet quiet enough to keep up the submissive appearance. Although, he supposed it was more than an appearance. With some time, practice and confidence, maybe he’d be able to play a different role. For now, this is what it was. His body trembled slightly with the nerves and the sensations.

“Hm? What was that?” Your movements slowed down a little, much to Wilbur’s dismay. “Did you just ask something of me without saying please?” You leaned down, your face hovering inches from his. “You remember when I told you that you only get what I give you, right?”

“Y-yes,” Wilbur said. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.” He sighed as you ruffled his hair, his brown eyes wide and gazing up at you full of desperation. “I promise.”

“Then say please,” you replied. “You can say please, can’t you, baby?”

Wilbur nods, a sharp, jerky movement. “C-can I please have more?” he asks.

“More what?” you asked innocently. Your hips continued rocking back and forth, so languidly that it was frustrating. “What do you want, sweetheart? Use your words.”

“I-I want it harder,” Wilbur replied. “F-faster. Please? Please, I need it.” With every passing moment, Wilbur became less and less aware of the cameras picking up his every move. If he focused hard enough, he could pretend that this wasn’t all an act. It was a dangerous game, pretending that way, but as time passed, he cared less and less.

“I guess I can give you what you want,” you said nonchalantly. “If you promise to be good.” Your movements picked up speed, hips thrusting slightly faster but just as shallowly. You weren’t thrusting all the way to the hilt, but Wilbur did his best to be patient despite wanting it desperately.

“I promise,” he panted out. “Please. I’ll be good.”

“Good boy,” you cooed. Wilbur felt a shiver go down his spine, and his shivers immediately turned to gasps as your thrusts got harder, faster, more forceful. He tried to tilt his hips a little, make you brush against his prostate, but you refused to comply, still avoiding the spot entirely. He let out a whine, high-pitched and needy. It was almost embarrassing, but based on the way you only smirked wider and picked up the pace, it was clear that you weren’t about to judge him for it.

Wilbur let himself get a little louder. He was tempted to cup your face, to run his fingers gently along your sides. He almost did before remembering that this wasn’t real. You didn’t love him. This was just sex. His second time ever, with someone he’d been crushing on obsessively, and none of it was even real. Despite how good he felt physically, he started to feel like shit mentally. The thoughts combined with your movements caused him to tear up a little bit, much to his embarrassment. He felt his eyes burn a little, and he glanced away from your face, trying to hide it.

It was no use. You saw. “Color?” you asked softly, too quiet for the cameras to pick up properly. Your eyes held a somewhat concerned expression. Immediately, Wilbur felt bad for upsetting you.

“Green,” he replied easily. “I’m okay. Promise.” He even managed a small smile.

You nodded, the worry slowly melting from your face. He moaned as your movements picked up speed again, and then whined as you finally, finally, hit his prostate. His moans got increasingly loud as you continued hitting that spot with every thrust of your hips, burying yourself inside of him to the hilt of your strap. He looked down between his legs as best he could, watching you move in and out of him. He could only look for a moment before having to tilt his head back and whine once again.

“Look at you,” you cooed. “So desperate for my cock, huh?”

“Y-yes.” Wilbur gripped the sheets with one hand and your shoulder with the other. “Please, please, please don’t stop.” His voice came out sounding whiny and pathetic, wobbling with every word.

“You’re doing so good,” you replied. “Taking me so well.” Wilbur moaned once more as you gripped his hips, using the hold as leverage to help you thrust harder.

He could feel himself getting close. He noticed how much pre-cum he was leaking, small drops of it dripping down his cock. “S-so close,” he whined. His hand subconsciously went to his length, but you quickly pulled his hand away.

“Not without my permission,” you chided him. He gasped as you continued your movements.

“Please,” he said desperately. “Please, I need…fuck, I need you to touch me. Please.”

You grinned and wrapped a hand around his cock, slowly pumping him up and down. He let out an embarrassingly loud moan. After just a few movements of your hand, his hips were twitching. He let out a series of swears and pleas, his words nearly incoherent as he finished, cum coating your hand and his stomach. You murmured soft words of praise, but he could barely register them.

His vision was hazy as you stopped moving. He gasped for air, panting. He felt numb and overstimulated all at once. His hand that was gripping the sheets slowly loosened its grip, and he let his hand fall from your side. “Thank you,” he murmured. His throat felt scratchy and dry.

“You were such a good boy,” you said, running a hand down his hip to his thigh. You pulled out, and he gasped at the feeling. You leaned in close to him, your faces inches apart. “We’ll have to do this again sometime, yeah?” He nodded eagerly before you pulled away.

He watched as you turned off the cameras, and he finally let himself relax, laying down fully on the bed. His gaze went from you to the ceiling before he closed his eyes. He needed a break, a few moments to collect himself, to come back to reality. His eyes still burned, and he let a few tears escape down his cheeks. How could something so pleasurable also be so painful?

He laid there for a few moments, taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself. He closed his eyes, trying to will the tears away. He couldn’t get over the thought that this wasn’t enough, that he needed more of you, and he needed it to be real. It was as if all his years of loneliness were catching up to him at once. Every night that he wished someone would hold him, every day that he’d spent pining after people who would never love him back…not to mention the constant self-loathing that came from the small amount of self awareness that he had, the awareness that he was a creep who nobody could ever love.

Wilbur heard you as you took off the harness before walking over to his side. “You alright?” you asked. Your voice was soft, concerned. “Was I too rough with you? Do you want some water, or maybe something to eat?”

Wilbur opened his eyes and sat up a bit. “Um…water would be good. And no, you weren’t too rough with me.” He wiped his tears off his cheeks and managed a smile. “You were a lot less rough with me than I am with myself, honestly.”

You grinned back at him. “Okay, I’ll get you some water. If you want to clean yourself up, the bathroom is to the right of the entrance to my room. There are washcloths in the drawer under the sink.”

“Thanks,” he said. Some warm water to help wipe the sweat off him sounded almost magical. “I’ll go do that.” He slowly got off the bed, feeling a little shaky. Your kindness and the sweet sound of your voice had taken away some of his pain, but the loneliness lingered in his mind like an ever-present itch that he couldn’t reach the source of.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” you called after him. He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

He used the bathroom, cleaned himself up, and was about to head back to your room when something caught his eye. You had a laundry hamper in the bathroom, and on top of the pile of laundry, nearly blended in with the surrounding fabric, was a pair of black underwear.

He immediately beat himself up for even thinking about taking it…but god, it was tempting. He would have something of you always, something you’d touched. More than just touched. He could keep it in his room, with his things, a little souvenir.

The only other souvenir he’d ever kept was from the girl he was obsessed with in high school. She had once torn out a page of notes and dropped them in the trash can, and he had fished it out and kept it. Of course, he’d thrown it out after she’d called him out for being a creep.

Never had he had something like this. But he quickly realized that, even if he wanted to, he couldn’t take it. He was naked, so it wasn’t like there was a pocket to hide it in.

He pushed away the disappointment and left the bathroom. It was better this way, better that he not have the opportunity to do what he wanted. Despite knowing that it was for the best, he couldn’t help but feel upset by it.

He re-entered your room, where you were sitting on the bed. You’d changed out the duvet, and there was a glass of water on the nightstand for him. You were dressed again in sweatpants and a t-shirt, and he felt more exposed than ever. You turned when you heard him enter, and immediately, he was given a smile. “Feeling better?”

Wilbur nodded and smiled back. “Much better, thanks.” He glanced around and saw his clothing on the floor. “I’m just gonna…”

Your eyes flitted to the pile of his clothes. “Right. Good idea.” You then glanced at the dresser in the corner of your room. “Hold on, I have something you can wear instead of that uncomfortable button-up you were wearing.”

Wilbur was about to protest and say that the button-up was fine (despite the fact that it was cheap and a little itchy in reality), but he quickly shut his mouth and worked on getting his jeans and boxers on. If you had something for him to wear, something that was yours, that would be a dream come true. He watched you as you shuffled through a drawer.

“Here it is,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. He saw as you picked up a t-shirt, one that was definitely too big for you. “I have this extra shirt. I accidentally ordered a few sizes too big, so you can have it if you want.” You tossed it over to Wilbur, and he caught it.

It was a band t-shirt. Wilbur recognized the band as one of your favorites. “Are you sure?” he asked. The material was soft in his hands, and Wilbur swore that it smelled like you.

“Yeah, I’m never going to wear it. It’s yours.”

Wilbur held it like it was precious. He examined it before sliding it on. It fit him well, not too loose but not too tight. He looked over at you and immediately noticed that you were looking right back at him. “It fits really well,” Wilbur said. “Thank you. This is much better than my other shirt.”

“No kidding,” you replied. “That thing felt like it was awful to wear.” You paused. “Plus, you look good in it.”

Wilbur could hardly believe it. You had complimented his appearance twice. In one day. “Thanks,” he said, his voice slightly shaky. “I, um, appreciate it.” He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and sat down in order to steady himself. He took a sip, immediately feeling refreshed. He hadn’t realized how dry his throat felt.

“Anytime.” You sat beside him on the bed. “Can I…ask you something serious?”

Wilbur put down the glass and turned his full attention to you. He saw the slight concern in your expression, and his small smile quickly faded. “Sure. What’s up?”

You tilted your head slightly as you looked at him. “Are you okay? I know that you said you were alright, but you seem a little shaken up still. I’m just a bit worried.”

He sighed, trying to figure out what to say. On the one hand, he could be honest. At least, a little bit honest. You didn’t need to know the full truth. On the other hand, he could insist that he was fine. He worked through the options in his mind, and settled on a half-truth.

“I, uh, have never been pegged before,” he said. “This was my first time. I think I just got a little overwhelmed is all.” He paused, and when he saw your expression grow more concerned, quickly added, “But I’m fine! Really, you were great. You didn’t do anything wrong, and it was a good first time. A great first time.” He could feel his cheeks get slightly hot, but he did his best to stay relaxed.

You looked surprised, your eyes slightly wide. “You…you got pegged for the first time, just now, on camera?” You shook your head, a barely noticeable movement. “That’s…brave. I’ve never done something for the first time on camera.”

“Yeah…yeah, I probably should’ve prepared beforehand,” Wilbur said. “But I just figured…it’s not like I’ve never done anything anal on my own. I figured it would be fine, and it was.”

“But you looked upset,” you said.

“Just overwhelmed,” Wilbur replied. “I promise it’s okay.” The last thing he wanted to do was deter you by making you feel bad. Besides, it really wasn’t your fault.

“Wilbur…” You looked away, pausing as if considering what to say. “Allison showed me a short clip the other day of that video you two filmed, and…and I don’t know if it was just an act, but I got the feeling that you were very new to what you were doing.” You looked back at him, and he felt the intense desire to disappear, to change the subject, because how could he admit how little experience he had without being intensely embarrassed? “Was that…did you ever have sex before that?”

Once again, Wilbur had the choice between honesty or a lie. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that he wanted to try for more with you—more than just friendship, and definitely more than business partners. The terrifying thing was this: if he wanted that, truly wanted that, then he would have to be honest with you at some point.

“...No,” Wilbur said, barely audible. He avoided eye contact. “I was, um, too nervous to tell her that it was my first time. I wanted to do a collab, so I just didn’t say anything.” He fidgeted with his fingers, trying to distract himself. “I…maybe I was wrong to do that. I don’t know. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, I just didn’t want to wait around for things to happen for real, because I need the money now, not later, and…and it didn’t seem like anything was going to happen anytime soon, so…” He shrugged, hoping that the explanation was enough.

“And…and was it good?” you asked. “Like, was it a good first time for you? Did you enjoy it?”

Wilbur thought back to it. Allison was nice, sure. She was amenable, very understanding when it came to the fact that Wilbur was new in the industry. And yeah, Wilbur had finished that first time with her, but when he really thought about it, he couldn’t say it was enjoyable. It wasn’t enjoyable, being with somebody he had no connection with. It wasn’t enjoyable knowing that this incredibly vulnerable moment of his life was being livestreamed in real time, and it definitely wasn’t enjoyable that his first time was done for profit rather than for the experience, for the fun.

“I mean, does anyone enjoy their first times?” Wilbur managed to dodge the question, but his eyes still didn’t meet yours.

“Yeah! Well…I don’t know. They’re generally not good in the sense of being physically pleasurable, but they don’t have to be awful,” you said. “I just…I can’t imagine doing that in front of a camera, streamed live like that. And it sounds to me like you did it because you didn’t feel like you had any other choice.”

Wilbur finally looked up at you, scared of a reprimand, scared of your judgment. But all he saw in your expression was worry and kindness. “I…I’ve just never really had the opportunity,” he said quietly. “I’ve never been in a proper relationship. I kissed a girl, like, once in high school, but that was it. And then not again until Allison. I just wanted to get it over with, to feel…I don’t know. Normal, I guess. Desirable. Like…like someone wanted me.”

The second the words came out, Wilbur was mortified. He’d never told anyone any of this, and the fact that he’d told you of all people, the second time he’d ever spoken to you in person, made him wish he could turn back time and erase this entire conversation.

He felt you gently take his hand. “I’m sorry,” you said, “that things didn’t turn out the way you would have liked.”

Wilbur looked down at his hand, gently wrapped in yours, and he gave it a small squeeze. “It’s okay,” he said. “It wasn’t awful.”

“Still,” you said. “It sucks.”

“It does suck.” He watched as you let go of his hand, hiding his disappointment. “Anyway, um…I’m sorry to unload all that on you,” he said, his self awareness returning to him.

“It’s fine, Wil. We’re friends, and I wouldn't have said what I said if I wasn’t prepared for a response,” you said. “Really, it’s okay.”

He could hear the softness in your voice, the hint of concern. It nearly made him cry again, just knowing that somebody cared about him at all. “Thank you,” he said. “I…I really appreciate it.” The words felt so tame in comparison to what he wanted to say, but all the words he could think of seemed too much. He couldn’t believe that you’d referred to him as a friend, that you wanted to continue associating with him. It seemed too good to be true.

One thing was certain: it would take a lot of willpower to make this obsession go away, and Wilbur wasn’t sure he had it in him to let you go.

To Wilbur’s absolute delight, his time with you didn’t end there. After filming, he stayed for dinner. He ate pizza with you on your couch, watching a cheesy 80s movie and making fun of the special effects. Admittedly, he watched you far more than he watched the film, and he felt shivers every time you looked his way.

Over the course of the next week, he messaged you every day. Sometimes, it was because he messaged first, and other times, you were the one to reach out. He forced himself to exercise some restraint, to not be too eager. You made it difficult. Many of the texts were about the video, you giving Wilbur updates on the editing progress. At the end of the week, it went live. Wilbur was notified by your message:

Done! Let’s see how this goes

Wilbur grinned, swallowing back all the anxiety that he felt. What if it was bad? What if people didn’t like it? What if his inexperience showed on camera?

He shoved it all down and sent a reply.

Sweet

After a moment, he was struck both by how boring his last message was and how great of an opportunity this presented him with.

Want to celebrate tonight? Drinks on me?

He waited anxiously for a reply. Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed with no response, until finally, your name appeared on his screen.

How about that bar a block from my place? You know the one?

Wilbur did, in fact, know the one. He’d passed it on the drive to your apartment.

I know it. Send the address and I’ll be there

Eight?

He smiled.

Eight sounds perfect :)

Once again, he couldn’t believe his luck. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, combed his hair. He left early to make sure that he was there in time and that you wouldn’t be stuck waiting for him. The cab ride to the bar felt like it took a million years, and when he got there, you were sitting at the bar waiting for him.

The bar was packed. There was music blasting over the speakers, some pop song that Wilbur couldn’t place, though he’d heard it over the radio a million times. He sat beside you at the bar. “Hey!” he said, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

You greeted him with equal enthusiasm. “You made it!”

“Of course I made it,” he said, grinning. He could already feel his cheeks get warm, although whether it was from the crowded bar or his proximity to you, he couldn’t tell. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

“Only about five minutes,” you replied. “But I got here early. Still waiting for the bartender.”

“Perfect.” Wilbur glanced at his surroundings. The scene reminded him of when he’d first met you. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a month. “Is the video doing well?” It was too early to draw many conclusions, of course, but he was curious.

“Holy shit, you have no idea,” you said, grinning. “People love the video. Already, I’m getting messages asking for more of it.” You seemed proud of yourself, and Wilbur couldn’t blame you. You’d done most of the work, after all.

He could feel his heart pounding. People loved it, which meant that you would probably want to do it again. More time spent with you, more excuses to see you…it all sounded perfect. “So when is part two?” Wilbur asks. “If people love it, I mean…we should probably get to filming more material, right?”

Your smile faltered, and his heart immediately sank. Of course. Of course it was all too good to be true, too perfect to be real. He should have known better. When you finally spoke, Wilbur was already bracing himself for rejection. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said. Before Wilbur could say anything, you continued. “Not because I don’t like you, okay? I…I won’t lie, it was fun. I’m just…”

“You can be honest,” Wilbur said, so quietly that he could barely be heard over the sounds of chatter and music. “If you don’t like me and don’t want to do it again, that’s okay. I get it.” He knew that he sounded pathetic and self-deprecating, but he had no clue what else to say.

“Wil, I just said that it wasn’t because I don’t like you,” you said. “Please take my word for it.” Wilbur nodded, slightly embarrassed. “The reason I don’t want to film more is because I’m a little worried about you.”

Oh. In a way, that was a relief to hear. It meant that you didn’t dislike him. On the other hand, he was terrified. Did you see him as pathetic? He wouldn’t blame you, but it was still a blow to his ego. “...Why?” he finally asked.

“I just…” You sighed. “You were literally crying, Wil. It was concerning. And I’m not saying that you did anything wrong, because you didn’t, I just think that…” You laughed, a short, nervous sound. “Fuck, I don’t know how to phrase this without sounding insensitive.”

Wilbur froze. You were going to call him a creep, pathetic, a loser. He just knew it. “Just say it,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You have some things to sort out,” you said finally. “This type of job can ruin you if you don’t have the self-esteem to handle it. I’ve seen it before. People go into it feeling like shit about themselves, and then all the validation they get is purely sexual, and it fucks with them when they don’t get that validation anymore. It can be hard to separate your sense of self from your sex appeal, you know? But you have to.”

Wilbur took a deep breath. That was somehow worse than anything he’d anticipated you saying. He wasn’t a creep in your eyes, maybe, but he was broken. He had low self-esteem. You saw him as something to be pitied, and that was a hard pill to swallow. He kept opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again. He finally gave up. “Okay,” he said finally. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

You went quiet. It was only until the bartender showed up that you spoke again, ordering some drink that Wilbur couldn’t make out the name of due to being lost in his own thoughts. When you asked him what he wanted, he replied with water. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore.

After the bartender left, Wilbur felt your eyes on him. “Yeah?” he questioned. “What?”

“Did you actually listen to what I said?”

“What? Yeah, of course I did.”

“Wilbur…”

“I get it,” Wilbur said quickly. “I know that I’m…that I’ve based my whole life around this, and I know that it’s concerning, and I get it. But what else am I supposed to do?”

“Take a break,” you suggested.

“I need the money.”

“Okay, well, go back to solo content for a bit. Because I think you need a moment to think things through.”

It didn’t sound so bad, actually, going back to doing things alone for a while. As long as he still had you in some capacity, maybe it would turn out okay. “Alright,” he said. “I could do that.”

“Good.” You thanked the bartender as he handed you your drink before turning back to Wilbur. “I think it would be good for you.”

“Probably,” he admitted. He sipped his water, trying to enjoy your presence despite the war of emotions he had going on. It took him a moment for him to ask the question that he wanted to ask. “...Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“No,” you replied immediately. “I just think you need some time off.”

He accepted the answer, but there was one more thing he needed to ask. “I’m sorry if this is…weird,” he said carefully. “But I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date sometime. Like, a proper date, not…”

“An amateur porn filming session?”

“Right. That.” Wilbur felt his hands trembling. “Um…we could go out to dinner sometime. Wherever you want.” He felt dizzy, his breathing shallow and his heart pounding way too fast. “If you want to.”

You took an agonizingly slow sip of your drink. “I’d like that,” you said finally. You smiled at him, and it was like everything falling into place. Wilbur could breathe. You hadn’t rejected him.

And soon enough, he would have you, one way or another.

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