we don’t talk about dream (dream x reader)

summary (slight!au for convenience, really) tommy grew up in fear of the man he never truly knew. but as he grew older and old secrets come into light during the development of l’manburg, tommy searches for answers about the name that many no longer say.

warning swearing, mentions of murder

a/n yes, this was totally to feed my simultaneous dream smp and encanto addictions. no further questions (it’s got a slow start but i promise it gets better!!!!)

gif cred belongs to @calamardo-sad

“send tommy to the basement, they said,” tommy mimicked, his voice high pitched in his muttering despite mocking his father’s words. he opened the loud door to the basement of his childhood home. “he can find it, they said.” he huffed out, flicking at the light switch. nothing happened. he flickered at it a few more times before groaning out. “you’re fucking kidding.”

he rubbed a hand down his face as he stared into the darkness of the basement, the wooden stairs the only thing visible to him at that angle. still, his chest filled with childish fear.

tommy sighed. “stupid technoblade and his stupid birthday..” he began down the stairs, still rambling angrily to himself. “why would he want to look through that stupid journal anyway? he probably couldn’t understand anything that’s written in there anyway..” he groaned again at the sea of boxes awaiting him. “im the best fucking brother ever for this.”

he weaved through the dusty boxes, squinting at the old sharpie to make out what was written on them while muttering about how wilbur owed him. it took him ten minutes before he finally made out a faint ‘technoblade’ on a pile of boxes. he sighed again heavily, dropping to his knees and getting to the real search.

it would have been a nice, nostalgic feeling going through them had it not been for the layers of dust that kicked into his face at every other thing he pulled out of the boxes. finally, after sneezing and coughing more than he had in his entire life, tommy found a box of old books and journals.

he grabbed out the journals–three small books with a child’s shorthand proclaiming ‘techno’ on the front of it. tommy smiled slightly, feeling a small weight lift off his shoulders. he was about to open one, take a look at young technoblade’s thoughts, when he heard something fall behind him.

his head immediately snapped over, eyes drawn to a shining object that caught the slight glint of light in the dark basement. he tucked the journals under his arm and cautiously headed over to the object.

kneeling down by it, tommy realized it was an old disc peeking out of its cover. he slipped it back in before picking up the casing. he nearly dropped it again when he saw what was written on.

‘FROM DREAM’

growing up, dream was a household name for tommy. from his brother’s scheming of rising up and breaking dream’s tyrannical foundation, to the fight for l’manburg itself, tommy grew to live in fear of the man he had only met twice; once, he was too young to remember, and again when the man threatened his life on his own doorstep. and yet, that was still years ago.

so why was a disc with his name on it in their basement?

tommy held it up to the light more, blood rushing loudly in his ears. when he saw what else was written, he actually did drop the disc, yelping as though it had burned him.

‘TO TOMMY’

tommy knelt down slowly, his breathing suddenly heavy with the fear that filled his chest. his hands were shaking as he went to grasp the disc, seeing it was anything like those he had collected. maybe it was one he had stolen from him.

but when he went to pull the disc from its casing, only a portion of it came out. tommy shook the case, and the rest of the broken pieces scattered onto the floor; at least eight different portions of the disc from a man who almost killed his entire family and country.

“shit.”

…

tommy sighed at the laid out pieces of the broken disc. “why is this here for me, dream?”

the loud creak of the front door opening made tommy flinch, quickly wheeling around and brushing the broken pieces further behind his back. karl stood in the doorway, looking curiously over at tommy with a box in hand.

“karl!” tommy exclaimed breathlessly. “jesus, man, you scared me.”

“sorry, sorry,” the man shrugged with a huff. “i was dropping off some things for philza when i, uh..” he placed down the box and looked over at tommy again. “heard the name we don’t speak.”

right. tommy had forgotten about the country’s superstition; never say dream’s name, for he has ears everywhere.

“right, uh, sorry,” tommy coughed. karl just turned away, probably going to get another box from outside. “but..” the brunette turned to him again. “if there were to be anything said about dream..”

“we don’t talk about dream,” karl reiterated, holding up his hands to stop tommy from pressing the topic. he already seemed stressed at just the thought of the man. 

“but-”

“tommy, i would drop it,” he shook his head, eyes shifting out the doorway.

tommy couldn’t help it–if anyone were to know anything, it would be karl. that guy seemed to have limitless information at his disposal. “but say that, in theory, d- he,” karl raised his eyebrows, but said nothing, “was out for you.. what would he do?”

before karl even had the chance to try to lecture him, sapnap burst through the door, another box in hand. “he was nightmare!”

“sap!” karl pleaded, tugging at his arm after he placed the box down.

“karl, he deserves to know,” sapnap brushed, beginning toward tommy. “he would make terrible promises, manipulate you until you didn’t know what was true, and then BOOM!” tommy flinched when sapnap lurched suddenly toward his face. “and there was nothing you could do.”

“sapnap, please!”

“what if you didn’t know whether or not he was coming after you?” tommy rushed out. “what would you do if you didn’t know where you stood with him?”

“well, you’d better figure it out,” sapnap warned, shaking his head. “because he was coming for you.” before tommy could ask anything else, karl wedged his way between them and pushed sapnap away.

“we don’t talk about dream!” he proclaimed, loud and adamant. “okay? not since..” karl sighed out. sapnap placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder as his head dropped. there was a moment of tense silence where guilt creeped at tommy’s heart before karl’s bright, passionate eyes turned to him again.

“i’ll talk about him just this once,” karl spoke seriously. “but then never again.” tommy nodded fervently, discreetly sweeping the broken vinyl pieces into one of the set out bowls as sapnap lead his husband to sit down. “it was our wedding day.. we were getting ready when it started raining.”

“it wasn’t ideal, but it was just a little rain,” sapnap cut in. karl sent him a light glare.

“right, we weren’t going to let that ruin our wedding,” karl continued. tommy nodded. he vaguely remembered their wedding; it had only been a few years ago.. but he didn’t remember anything about dream. “then dream happened. all we saw was a lightning strike-”

“the kind that can only happen from a trident summoning it,” sapnap clarified and karl hit his arm.

“are you telling this story, or am i?”

sapnap smiled at his husband, grabbing the hand that just hit him and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. tommy would’ve gagged had he not been so focused on the main point of the story. “im sorry, darlin’. go on.”

karl rolled his eyes with a smile, turning back to tommy. “well, whenever lightnings starts.. it doesn’t stop.” sapnap squeezed his husband’s hand. “one thing lead to another, the weather turned into a full-fledged storm by the time of the reception–practically a hurricane!”

“i do remember that,” tommy nodded. “the wedding moved into your house after that. phil had me and techno move all the tables inside.”

“it was still the most amazing day of our lives,” sapnap reaffirmed. “we didn’t let that idiot ruin it, but.. after that day we started living by the superstition.”

“we don’t talk about dream,” karl spoke as he stood from the table. “so whatever this new curiosity you have, tommy..” him and sapnap looked at him seriously. “i would drop it.”

…

he didn’t drop it.

“well, we all grew up fearing him,” tubbo shook his head. “but even now, he’s everywhere. always mumbling, planning.. i bet he practically lives in l’manburg.”

“you think?” tommy questioned. him, tubbo, and ranboo were sitting on the outskirts of the country, lounging in the shade of a large tree when tommy “casually” brought up the feared man again.

“there’s no way he just left us alone after all that’s happened,” tubbo continued. “it’s been nearly two years since the war ended, but it’s not over. not really. not as long as he’s out there.” tommy and ranboo shared an uneasy look. “i associate him with the sound of the shifting stone. every time we hear that loud shift, president soot always says it’s the wall settling, but i think it’s dream. he’s probably watching us from our very own wall.

“and he scares them all. leaves the president and the entire country fumbling at just the sound of his name. just the idea of him.” tubbo sat up straight. “one day, i’m going to be president. and i’m going to defeat dream once and for all.”

tommy thought for a moment. “why do you think they fear him so much?”

“he’s unpredictable,” tubbo shrugged. “he’s manipulative, he’s crazy.. he’s someone you can’t quite figure out. no one understands.” tubbo brushed some of his hair out of his wide eyes to look clearly at tommy. “do youunderstand?”

…

“he’s seven feet tall,” wilbur spoke ominously but strongly, voice taunting, “weapons strapped along his back..” he circled his younger brother like a vulture and tommy found himself wishing he had never come to visit. “remember that day, all those years ago, when he came to visit?” tommy didn’t get to answer before wil was back in front of him, speaking, “you say you only remember him saying your name before it all faded to black.

“he knows when you’re thinking about him,” wilbur continued, tone growing more ferocious as he walked forward. every step he took, tommy took one back. fear grew in his heart. “and i bet he practically feasts on the memory of your scream that day. treasures it like your disc.” tommy hit the wall with a small yelp in surprise.

“so stop. talking. about. him.” wilbur’s eyes were furious. “if i hear again that you’re asking around about dream, i’m bringing philza into it. and i’ll rethink the vice presidency thing we talked about.” then wilbur walked away, leaving tommy to gulp with fear. he called back one final, “we don’t talk about dream.”

…

“i don’t know much,” niki offered quietly, shifting her bread basket on her arm. “once he told me he’d kill my fox, and the next day it was dead.” she shook her head, continuing her walk that tommy had interrupted. “i wouldn’t go around asking about him, tommy. nothing good can come from it.”

tommy frowned.

…

“dream?” badboyhalo sounded, looking taken aback by the younger boy’s question. “i never really liked him.. we were okay, kind of, until a few rougher things happened..” bad shook his head, finally looking into tommy’s eyes. “last time i saw him, he said i would end up drunk and crazy with a beer gut if i continued to follow the egg. and i’ve already got body image issues, so..” bad shrugged with a wave. “wouldn’t trust him. that’s what i tell myself.”

tommy watched with wide, slightly-amused eyes as bad walked away.

…

“he told me that my sight would disappear,” eret spoke, deep voice sending a chill down tommy’s spine as he whipped off his sunglasses, “now look at my eyes!” tommy flinched with fear at the empty orbs stared at him. then eret laughed out, offering a charming smile. “just kidding. i was born like this.”

“jesus, man..,” tommy huffed. he was often understood and appreciated eret’s humor, but it could be annoying when tommy had a goal in mind. he wanted answers, not jokes.

“i wouldn’t go around asking about dream so freely, tommy,” eret shrugged, pushing his sunglasses back onto his nose. “you never know who you can trust these days because of him–anyone could be a spy. even me.” tommy tensed for a moment, furrowing his brow skeptically as eret walked past him. “im kidding, im kidding! ..kinda.” and the man walked away and laughed, leaving tommy more annoyed than before.

…

“why are you asking that?” george spoke slowly and unsurely.

“i..,” tommy began, trailing off. he didn’t know whether or not to be honest. “i don’t know. i think im at the age where i can finally understand and know a little about him. and i want to know.”

george just frowned, looking at the grass below them. he spoke slowly and quietly, “dream was.. he was strange with me. he was protective of me for the majority of our friendship, before i realized that his idea of “protection” was just plain manipulation.” he looked up and shrugged at tommy. “he would always tell me that everything i wanted was promised to me, and would someday be mine. i felt..” he shook his head with honest shame. tommy was listening intently at this rate; this was the most open he had ever seen george. “powerful. but i think my power only really grew when i was finally away from him.

“dream is complicated,” george continued, crossing his arms. “he does things only for his own benefit. whatever you’re asking around for, you’re only going to find the same answer; dream is a terrible man who did terrible things.” george picked up the bag he had laid on the ground. “that’s just the truth.” and he walked away without saying anything else.

tommy stood in the shade for a moment as he processed.

…

it was sunset when tommy finally reached your house. he took a deep breath before heading around back, where he knew you would be lounging by this time.

“tommy?”

you were reading a book on your lit up back porch, enjoying the cool evening breeze as the sun dipped below the horizon. your eyes were on him, brows raised curiously. he coughed out, “hey, y/n. how-”

“i know why you’re here,” you cut in. he silenced himself immediately, watching as you bookmarked your book before turning looking up at him again with a solemn smile. you waved a hand to the seat across from you. “let’s talk.”

tommy slowly sank into the comfortable chair, heart beginning to beat nervously. he began, “so..” but he didn’t know where to begin, and frankly was a little embarrassed that word of his curiosity had gotten back to you. he prayed it hadn’t found wilbur again. he shook his head–this was you. the most comfortable, kind person he knew. there was no reason to freeze up now. “.. where do i start?”

you offered him a short chuckle. “let me start.” tommy nodded, turning his body toward you. “george told me you were coming, by the way.” tommy pursed his lips. “and sapnap before that.” 

“yeah,” tommy coughed, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “just.. covering all of the bases, i guess.”

you nodded, not looking at him. “i don’t know what has you so curious, but..” you shrugged. “if anyone around here is going to silence that mind of yours.. it might just be me.” tommy raised his eyebrows in the slightest, but your gaze remained on the small table between your seats. “dream was the most honest with me. he, uh, told me loved me after all.”

“do you not believe it?” tommy cut in. when you looked up, he quickly added, “sorry.”

“no, you’re fine,” you assured, shaking your head at him. “i did, at one point, but.. i don’t know what i believe about him anymore.” you paused, hugging one of your knees to your chest as you spoke, “dream used to tell me that we were meant for each other. that he was the man i was supposed to be with, that i was the one of his dreams. and if i were to ever leave him..” you shook your head to yourself, busying your hands with brushing your hair out of your face. “if he ever were to be out of reach, i would realize that i could never love again.”

“he was in love with you,” tommy summarized and you pursed your lips. “but you don’t know whether it was truly love or.. i don’t know, mania?”

“yeah,” you affirmed. “i left him before sapnap and george parted. he-he wanted to lock me down, keep me caged. and i couldn’t bear it.” you stood from your seat, finally meeting eyes with tommy’s wary gaze. “i know you’ve heard it a thousand times before, but please, tommy..” your pleading gaze sent a chill down his spine. “we don’t talk about dream.”

tommy gulped and nodded. the distant bell of the hours changing broke your focus. you looked into the distant sky with a sigh, “i’ve got to get changed. i have to be at the white house in an hour.”

“the white house?” tommy questioned, rising from his own seat. “why?”

“technoblade’s coming for dinner,” you explained, heading toward your back door, “and i think wilbur’s taking it as a chance to finally set us up.” you paused in your doorway as tommy raised his eyebrows. “i’ll see you there?”

“yeah,” he nodded, voice quieter than he would have liked. you just nodded in return and disappeared inside your house.

as tommy walked away, pondering dream’s obsession for you, he couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling of being watched.

…

tommy’s mind was swirling with a million thoughts when he returned to his house. quickly, he drew out the bowl he had swept the vinyl pieces into a few days prior. he poured them out onto the table, nearly ten pieces to a puzzle he didn’t know if he was ready to piece together. but he had bought some epoxy a day prior to try.

he began to piece together the vinyl, keeping an eye on the kitchen clock. 

we don’t talk about dream.

he was a nightmare!

three pieces were cleanly fitted to each other.

wouldn’t trust him. that’s what i tell myself.

dream used to tell me we were meant for each other.

it felt as if the entire house was on edge.

… and the next day it was dead.

we don’t talk about dream.

his hands were shaking as he tried the last few pieces.

practically a hurricane!

weapons strapped along his back..

the second the record was laid out, altogether at last, tommy shakily poured the epoxy along the cracks. his heart was racing, and he raked a stressed hand through his hair as he checked the clock once more. he’d have to wait for the glue-like substance to settle before he could toss the record onto a player, but he didn’t have enough time to wait for it. then, the front door slammed open.

“hey, tommy! you better get your nice shirt on, ‘cause techno is com- ing…” tommy turned to philza in absolute fear, listening as phil’s words trailed off when he spotted the disc on the table. his eyes were locked directly on the small green ring that outlined the center, jaw dropping slowly as tommy’s veins filled with horror, weakly attempted to cover the pieced disc. but the damage had already been done.

“i-i..,” tommy sputtered before the dam holding him together finally broke, and he rushed out in nearly one breath, “you sent me to the basement for techno’s gift, and i found a disc with my name on it from dream, but i broke it!, and i tried to ask around for clues but wilbur yelled at me, and karl’s furious, and i think.. dream’s after me?” the last part wasn’t meant to be so much of a question, but tommy could barely think of the inflection of his words when philza’s usually fatherly blue eyes looked so mortified.

his father took a few slow steps forward, painfully loud in the silent house.

“phil?”

philza gently pushed tommy to the side to view the cracked disc in full. he practically watched as his father’s chest filled and released with air, the expression in his eyes changing every moment as his eyes swirled with a thousand thoughts. his feathers were both literally and metaphorically ruffled.

then, the town’s bell rang in the distance and philza seemed to resolve. he glanced back at the door before to the disc.

“here’s what we’re going to do,” phil began, clearing his throat. he rushed over to grasp a plate from the cabinet. “we shut our mouths. wilbur is using tonight as a chance to finally reconnect technoblade and y/n after so many years of being on opposing sides, and we are notruining that.” philza gently swept the drying disc onto the plate. “so for tonight, we are notthinking about dream, dream is notthinking about you, this disc does notexist, and we are one, big, happy, dream-less nation.” philza grasped lightly at tommy’s shoulders. tommy felt intensely guilty for the worry in his father’s composed orbs. “no one has to know. not as long as we keep quiet. no one has to know.” tommy nodded fearfully.

a noise at the door made them both jump in the slightest. they slowly turned their heads toward the creaking noise to see the silhouette of ranboo’s looming figure, mismatched eyes wide as he stared into the house. 

“i know.”

series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary you have a small reunion with badboyhalo and punz, basking in the brief juxtaposition of calm. philza presents new information to technoblade and tommy, leaving them to form a sort of game plan as they continue to await your arrival in the tundra. ghostbur finally reaches eret’s castle.

warnings swearing, mentions of arson, destruction, manipulation, and heavy worship

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gif cred belongs to @honeyspawner​

“the entire smp is going crazy about you!” bad muttered into your shoulder. he had to physically lift you up in order for you to be at his level, but you didn’t mind in the least. you knew that’s what came with badboyhalo hugs.

“im sure,” you offered in response. bad let you down after one last squeeze, and you happily turned your open arms to punz.

“you’re crazy, woman,” punz shook his head, though he welcomed your embrace. you shook your head in return.

“what makes me crazy?” you inquired.

punz shook his head again at you after letting you go. “blowing up your own house? destroying neutral? leaving it all without a trace of you, i..” he shrugged at you. “no one understands. everyone thinks you’re dead. or worse.”

though your chest was filled with guilt, you still quirked an eyebrow at him. “what’s worse?”

“worse is that you weren’t the one to ruin it all,” bad explained solemnly. there was a pause where they awaited an explanation of any kind. you gulped down the guilt.

“i did it,” you assured first. “neutral’s livelihood was destroyed by my own doing. but..” you turned your gaze away from them for a moment. “technically, it’s still worse.”

“what do you mean?”

you took a deep breath to help you gather the right words. “i didn’t.. want to destroy neutral.” you looked into bad’s confused eyes, then to punz’s. “dream..”

“don’t say another word,” punz scoffed, throwing up his hands. “i knew that bastard had something to do with it–he withdrew from his alliance with l’manburg, like, two weeks after neutral went.” your brow furrowed as punz continued with frustration, “god, and i asked the egg for any sign that you were alright..” he shook his head. “and it didn’t tell me.”

“it knew you’d be upset,” bad sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “the egg knew what it was doing.” bad smiled, reaching a hand out to you. “it knew she’d find her way to us.” you took it happily, yelping before laughing when bad pulled you into another hug with the two of them.

…

“i got it,” philza announced proudly, laying out a map after entering technoblade’s home. tommy perked up from the couch, where he had unfortunately passed out while waiting for phil. technoblade entered the room.

“knocking would’ve been nice,” the hybrid huffed, leaning over the kitchen table to inspect the large map. philza lit a torch to give the kitchen more illumination than just the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

“you got the message,” phil just brushed as tommy groggily made his way over. “fundy’s foxholes, mapped out to the best of my ability.”

maybe it was residual exhaustion from just waking up, but tommy felt dizzy from just the amount of lines that crossed and zagged on the parchment. “holy shit.. that many?”

“most start on the wall of l’manburg and branch to different locations,” phil explained, bringing his torch the slightest touch closer to the map. “they go to eret’s castle, spawn, old pogtopia.. one even stretches toward the prison.”

they gazed over the map in silence for a moment. technoblade spoke up, “we know fundy was sent out by l’manburg.. if he’s got any sorta’ information, i bet you eret knows.”

“how so?” tommy inquired, looking up at the taller man.

technoblade placed his finger on the tunnel to eret. “there’s no way in hell eret doesn’t know about the foxhole. he’s got eyes everywhere, including in l’manburg. if fundy knew anything, eret would use the foxhole to his advantage.”

“so chances are whatever l’manburg knows, eret knows,” phil agreed. then he sighed, “and.. there’s other news on that front.” they turned their eyes to the blonde man. “dream withdrew his alliance from l’manburg.”

“what?!” tommy immediately gasped, eyes wide with disbelief.

“l’manburg has to know something about y/n,” technoblade spoke seriously. “dream wouldn’t have left unless they were withholding serious information from him.”

“it’s a stupid move on his part, but it has to be true,” phil agreed. “i don’t know what he expects to do without their support.”

“he could’ve found out about the green festival,” technoblade proposed. phil sighed knowingly, shaking his head. tommy looked between the two of them. 

“what happened with the green festival?” tommy questioned.

phil looked toward the boy. “it never happened, but it was supposed to be a cover for l’manburg to kill dream.” tommy blinked in surprise, mouth hanging open in the slightest. “but since dream withdrew, the festival’s cancelled. either he found out about the coup, or he stupidly withdrew from the only nation that could give him support with the y/n situation.”

tommy’s mind was running like wild. though it was the least of his concerns, and certainly not his current priority, he couldn’t help but think that this might be his chance; with dream gone from l’manburg.. they might allow him back. he zoned out staring at the map just thinking of the possibility, heartbeat loud in his ears.

“whatever dream’s doing now, im sure it’s dangerous,” phil spoke, snapping tommy out of his temporary trance. “l’manburg’s backing or not, dream is a powerful guy. we need to keep our guards up and prepare for the possibility that he could come here next.”

“it’s true,” technoblade huffed, looking over at tommy. “he let us go in peace, but that bastard’s patience only lasts so long.” he considered for a moment as philza traced his finger along a path on the map. “tomorrow we’ll go get you some new armor, kid.” tommy grinned. “for now, let’s rest. we can think of plans for defenses and preparations tomorrow.”

philza nodded, rolling up the map. “i’ll be back in the morning. sleep well, boys.”

“night, phil,” tommy waved. once the door closed, he turned to technoblade again. his brother was looking him up and down, making tommy furrow his brow at him.

“im thinking netherite,” technoblade spoke aloud. tommy’s heart leapt. “you probably haven’t had a good set in a while.. im not as good of a welder as y/n, but i can try.”

“anything works, really,” tommy was quick to speak. technoblade offered him a tired smirk before beginning to slink out of the kitchen. “techno.” the taller man turned to him again. “thank you.”

“’course, kid,” the hybrid shrugged. “someone’s gotta take care of you.” tommy smiled. “get some rest, alright?” tommy nodded, muttering a ‘good night’ as technoblade disappeared to his room.

guilt filled his chest in the silence of the kitchen, thinking back to his wishful thoughts of l’manburg. tommy shrugged to himself, rolling his shoulders back at an attempt to rid himself of the feeling. his brother was going to make him some real armor tomorrow–a luxury he hadn’t seen in far too long. l’manburg could never offer him anything as kind as that.

whatever, tommy thought to himself as he retired to his room. it didn’t matter anyway.

…

“what are you two doing so far out of the smp?” you questioned the boys. your trio found a clearing in the forest, where you happily treated them to a picnic of your wrapped cooking. you were quickly preparing sandwiches as they spoke to and questioned you about your journey.

“we could ask you the same,” bad teased, nudging you before explaining, “the egg sent us to retrieve some materials out here. there’s a jungle temple not too far from here that had some..” bad and punz made quick eye contact. “..valuable materials.”

“i see,” you hummed with a nod. “well, im glad you found me on your way back.” they both smiled at you. “i needed a moment with someone other than nature.” you handed them both their completed sandwiches before sitting back to enjoy your own. “i came from the nether.”

bad would’ve choked if he had taken a bite then. “the nether?! i thought you hated it there!”

“i do,” you assured. “that much hasn’t changed.. but i needed to go somewhere that dream wouldn’t expect. and..” you shrugged, running a hand through the grass beneath your knees. “no really expected me to be in the nether.”

“that’s true,” bad ceded.

punz took a bite before asking, “was it a smooth trip, at least?”

you paused for a moment as you considered, thinking of your time with fundy and your moment with the god sent to find you. “as smooth as it could be for the nether, i guess,” you answered, offering him a half smile despite the deep-rooted ache in your chest.

“any idea where you’re headed next?” punz questioned. you hesitated for a moment, and your face must’ve visibly dropped, as bad turned and slapped his friend’s arm. as he quietly lectured him, you turned your gaze to the sky. you furrowed your brow at the unusual sight of a crow flying overhead; they weren’t usually native in brighter forested biomes. your mind wandered for just a moment before you were snapped back into the moment by bad’s voice.

“sorry, y/n,” he offered. “you don’t have to tell us; we know this journey’s yours to make.”

“it’s alright,” you assured, turning your gaze back to them with a kind smile. “im not entirely set on my destination yet, but.. i reallyam enjoying being a nomad again. some things about returning are just harder than others.”

“it’s your calling,” punz shrugged at you knowingly.

“i think so,” you agreed, taking a sip of the water you had gathered from a nearby lake. “but i did like having a home. neutral was the environment i had sought out when i left my village all those years ago..” you shook your head. “it just took a terrible set of circumstances to find it.”

“sometimes that’s how you find the things that become home to you,” bad offered comfortingly. “after all, we did just happen upon the egg.” punz nodded with strong agreement.

“andwe did just happen upon you,” punz reminded, throwing his arm over your shoulder to pull you to his chest affectionately. you giggled out again, placing a hand on the strong arm that had drew you in.

your heart sped up in the slightest as punz held you there for another few minutes as you talked, but you decided to brush it off as delight from getting to talk to the boys you hadn’t seen in so long. and for the rest of the afternoon, you traded stories of times happier than the present, and basked in the presence of the men who were always too busy to see you.

…

“at ease, gentlemen,” eret spoke when he saw his guards turn toward the entrance to his throne room. he knew at once who was walking through the entrance. he smiled kindly as the figure finally came into view. “welcome, ghostbur.” they stood from their throne as ghostbur approached further. “took you long enough.”

“apologies, eret,” ghostbur half smiled, offering a small bow to the king. “it began raining a week after i left and didn’t stop for a good few days.” he stood straight again as eret began to approach him. “you can understand why it took me a bit.”

eret nodded. “im nothing if not understanding.” ghostbur pursed his lips unsurely. “i know you don’t remember much from your past life, ghostbur, but..” eret stopped just a few feet from him. “im not proud of many of the things i did.” they took their glasses off, revealing his stark white eyes to ghostbur. for some reason, the ghastly man didn’t feel at all alarmed by the sight. instead, he felt an odd sense of calm. “i want to help you, ghostbur. but only if you want me to.”

the king paused to allow ghostbur to speak. he struggled for a moment to gather thoughts, memories–anything that could give more meaning to his words. but he just sighed as his illusory mind slipped him once again.

“i want you to help me, eret,” ghostbur assured, and she smiled at him. “i want to be human again.”

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series summary (in game!au) when an exiled tommy finally rebels against a manipulative dream, he finds safety in neutral territory, a place owned and guarded by you. staying in your safe haven opens up the younger one’s eyes to your way of life, while also revealing your deeper past before neutral; a past that involved a war for your love.

chapter summary you finally leave the nether after a grueling, emotional trip. meanwhile, tommy finds an old message meant for technoblade. quackity contemplates the burdens of his present while you are reunited with surprising allies.

warnings swearing, mentions of suicide and violence, severe angst on multiple accounts

a/n it’s finally here, and hopefully a quick update to follow !

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gif cred belongs to @ana-tase​

there were many reasons you hated the nether. there were the countless near death experiences, the difficulty to obtain even the fewest of materials, the ruthless terrain, and, of course, the less than sympathetic inhabitants. but all of those reasons flew from your mind as you remembered how much you hated building portals.

you hadn’t truly acknowledged it until you were laying the third piece of obsidian. it was an unforgiving material; too tough to mine without diamond, but two weak to withstand dynamite. and overall, too heavy for one woman to carry back and forth.

when you trekked back over to the piglins you were trading with, you spoke in greek, “how much extra gold would it require for you few to help me?” it only took two more trips after that.

you thanked the piglins for their help and generosity, offering them an additional few gold bars to blow up the portal soon after you were gone. they assured you were welcome back any time before heading back to their village. you were rummaging through your bag for your flint and steel when a grunt sounded behind you. you turned to see the same messenger piglin who had delivered you a note just a few weeks before. he presented another carefully wrapped parchment to you.

“for technoblade,” was all he said to you, his voice a quiet rumble. you accepted the letter and placed it carefully into your bag. he nodded to you before joining his brethren again.

after watching the piglins disappear from your view you knelt by the new portal, striking the flint and steel hard over the base. it immediately sent a few sparks over the dark stone, and you leaned back as a purple haze slowly began to draw together from the obsidian. you made one more strike for good measure, and after a moment the familiar whispers of the portal filled your ears. the pull from it wasn’t nearly as strong as l’manburg’s.

you stood up tall and reached out one hand, summoning your trident back to your side. after the cool steel of it met your warm skin, you let out a breath and hopped into the portal. you landed strongly on the other side amongst a birch tree forest. you stood straight and looked about for any significant landmark; there was none to be found.

for the first time in a long time, you had no idea where you were. and it exhilarated you.

…

writing was nearly an impossible feat when the voices were restless. technoblade truly had no idea what triggered them that day, but once he had sat down to write an entry in his journal he realized how overpowering they were in the silence of his study.

‘we haven’t done enough today.’ ‘let’s go cook for phil.’ ‘is y/n okay right now?’ ‘we should really go harvest the potatoes before some of them start poisoning.’ ‘should we make sure tommy isn’t killing himself?’ ‘it’s alright, we can trust him with that sword. i think.’ ‘i wonder if y/n’s out of the nether yet.’ ‘we would’ve known if l’manburg got her.. right?’ ‘i don’t know, quackity’s crazy these days.’ ‘but is he crazy for her?’

“do you ever shut the hell up?” he grumbled to himself as his thoughts continued to swirl, rubbing a hand to his forehead in an attempt to calm the incessant aching that the voices brought.

“no, i don’t.”

technoblade’s head snapped up quickly to see it was just tommy standing in the doorway to his study. the boy shrugged, “sorry. voices?”

“yeah,” technoblade huffed out, leaning back in his chair. tommy perched himself on a nearby chest. “just won’t stop.” the boy nodded, as if he had any clue what his brother went through.

tommy thought for a moment before speaking, “i don’t remember.. too much of your experience of the voices when we were younger. but distracting helped, right?”

the hybrid shifted his eyes over to the younger boy, considering. “sometimes, i guess.”

“great, ‘cause i have something for you,” tommy hummed, reaching into his pocket for a gently rolled scroll. he stood and presented it to technoblade. “it’s from y/n; she sent it with me when i first started heading here, but i just now remembered it when i was finishing unpacking my bag.”

technoblade took the scroll with a heightened heart rate. “you never fully unpacked your bag?”

tommy shrugged. “i think i’ve finally started accepting im going to be here longer than i want.” he quirked a brow at him. “n-not because of you or anything! just because, you know, i’d rather be in neutral.”

“we all would rather be in neutral,” techno grumbled, smoothing his fingers over the ribbon tying the parchment together. he didn’t want to open it yet, not until he was alone. “finally accepted that it’s gone?”

“yeah,” tommy sighed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “i think so. but also, it’s not really gone. not when y/n’s still around.” technoblade just shifted his gaze as him and the voices considered the wise words. “but.. whatever. im headed to phil’s to make dinner. see you there?”

technoblade quickly snapped back to the moment. “yeah, yeah. i’ll catch up in a few.”

“cool,” tommy nodded, finally heading out of the office. when the door was closed again, technoblade considered tommy’s maturity for just a moment. he didn’t know if it upset him or not, seeing how his little brother had grown into something more than a jokester. it was as if tommy had found a balance in the two personalities, and he didn’t know whether to attribute that to y/n or growing into both of his brother’s influences. he figured it was probably a mix.

he didn’t dwell on it too long; he switched his attention to the parchment. he finally and carefully untied the ribbon holding it closed. it smoothly rolled out to reveal the blessed sight of y/n’s careful handwriting. just the sight of it brought the voices down to a whisper.

‘dear technoblade,
you’ve told me many times that history repeats itself and that such repeats may find me, no matter where i reside. i hate how scarily accurate you can be sometimes.
homebound again, but at the direction of dream. i don’t know if the communicators pick up on the device that he strapped to me, but if so, im sure i won’t be alone for long. just, please, try to find me as soon as you can.
i remember vividly that the first time this happened to me (which depresses me to remind that this is the second), one of my repetitive thoughts was ‘i know technoblade wouldn’t have done this to me.’ i’m starting to think that way again.
what a bitter thought.
as always, y/n’

his heart was racing by the end of the letter. it ached for y/n, and yet it burned with the implications of her thoughts for him. technoblade hated remembering the war more than anything; it only stirred unpleasant memories. but whenever it addressed her understandably torn feelings along with his undeniable ones, he yearned for a time where things were simpler.

he was lost in his thoughts for a few moments, wondering how often she thought of him during the war. he looked over the writing once more, reminding himself it was written before he saw her last. additionally, he reminded himself the war was two years past before the voices grew loud again.

‘i hope she’s okay.’ ‘she’ll find her way to us eventually.’ ‘im kinda hungry.’ ‘i hope she thinks about us a lot.’ ‘definitely not as much as we think about her, though.’ ‘tommy’s probably waiting.’ ‘waiting sucks.’

“alright, shut up,” technoblade grumbled to himself. he slid y/n’s letter into his journal before standing up. he spoke aloud, “she’ll be here soon.” but he didn’t know if the words were to reassure the voices or himself.

…

quackity found himself getting home later and later every evening. he had told sapnap and karl to stop waiting up for him when it got past ten at night, but he still came home disappointed that they had followed his word.

despite his disappointment, he still took off his armor as quietly as he could. removing the iron armor that was customary for day-to-day in l’manburg was a weight off of his shoulders, but it didn’t at all lighten to the weight upon his chest. he leaned his sword against the couch as he rested his head in his hands.

the search was exhausting for everyone. nearly everyone had made it back, but the only luck was with fundy. and even then, there was no lead on that front. quackity was getting restless.

he prayed y/n was alright. though the stress was insane, above all else he hoped she was safe. 

quackity wasn’t around for the war. but after hearing the stories from fundy and the general gossip, it just gave him another reason to despise dream. he really hoped dream had nothing to do with what happened to neutral.

he had considered that possibility; that the reason dream was so quick to bother l’manburg for information and to pull a sword on fundy was because y/n had been running not from neutral, but from him. though it was a nightmare scenario, quackity secretly hoped it was true. just for another reason to get dream.

he thought about y/n for another minute, about her dazzling smile and motherly personality that had entranced him from the day they met. he missed everything about her dearly. being vice president was too busy of a job; he wished he had gotten to experience neutral one last time before it was gone. but as far as he knew, y/n was still alive. he held onto that hope of seeing her again.

quackity did his best to rid himself of those thoughts as he headed toward the bedroom he shared with his fiancés. when he creaked the door open, he saw they were already curled into each other under the plush blankets of the queen bed, snoring and asleep. though the sight was pure in and of itself, it pained quackity’s heart to see them sleeping so peacefully without him. he frowned as he closed the door again, heading back to the couch.

he laid down and flicked off the lamp, pulling an old quilt over his body. the house was uncomfortably silent in the night, and his stressed thoughts returned to fill the void and distract his ever-aching chest.

quackity sighed to himself once more. he really wished his fiancés had waited for him.

…

using your compass, you trekked north for three days straight. despite the harshness of the return, it felt good to be a nomad again. after the first day, you came across a village that felt familiar to you and a kind, recognizable woman pointed you in the right direction of the tundra after providing a nice meal. it was a welcome comfort after the harshness of the nether.

your trident was in one hand, your compass in the other as you continued on. you were amongst an oak forest, embracing the breeze that swept through the trees, cooling the sunshine that fell upon you through the branches. you felt totally at ease, allowing your mind to absorb your surroundings rather than return to your stressed thoughts.

until you heard the voices.

you immediately tucked yourself behind a tree, slipping your compass in your bag. the voices were distant but, with no other sound around, the mutters were obvious. you glanced around the wide tree, squinting at the figures you saw in the distance. whoever they were, their identities weren’t obvious to you at first glance. but you could see one was shrouded in black and the other in lighter clothing, and their distant blobs were definitely headed in your direction.

you quickly grabbed two of the sturdier arrows in your quiver, plunging them into the tree you had used for cover and climbing your way up to the high branches. you summoned your trident once you reached them.

you settled on a solid branch hidden amongst the leaves of other trees, peeking through the shroud. their voices were almost clear to you now, and your heart began to hammer with anticipation. it definitely wasn’t dream, but it could’ve very well been l’manburg. your brow furrowed, leaning the slightest bit closer in an attempt to make out the words.

“it’s all about recruitment, punz!” a chipper voice spoke. you pressed a hand to your mouth to suppress a gasp that dared to rise. you could’ve sworn that was.. “the egg thrives on loyalty; the more who can hear it, the more power it gets.”

that solidified it. you let yourself slip to the group, plunging your trident into the grass as your feet planted firmly. the two men who had just passed the tree now turned in surprise. they were both impossibly taller than you, and yet the sight of them was the first comfort you had felt in days.

“oh my goodness- y/n?!” badboyhalo exclaimed, all nine and a half feet of him immediately alight with excitement. punz’s mouth was agape, his axe slipping from his fingers.

“bad!” you squealed out and he scooped you into his arms without hesitation.

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summary (they/them) tis the season to be in love! and ‘tis the season to have an excuse to kiss your mcyt lover, with the help of a poisonous garland.. (includes dream, george, sapnap, karl, quackity, bbh, c!technoblade, wilbur, punz, fundy, and eret)

warnings swearing, lots of kissing, maybe some suggestive themes? maybe

a/n merry very belated christmas, hannukah, kwanza and boxing day to those who celebrate! have a late fic for your winter fic needs, and have a happy new year my loves <3

hcs = headcanons btw,, this is my first try at this format so let me know if it’s alright!!

gif cred belongs to @anigifs18​

dream
+ this man definitely put mistletoe somewhere in his gaming room the second it hit december
+ just for the excuse to kiss you all month
+ he doesn’t have all the time in the world despite the holiday season
+ so it was just a gesture to show some romance every time you visit his workspace
+ he also just likes the opportunity to give you that shit-eating grin every time you enter his office

“come in!” dream called out when he heard you knock at his door, making sure he was muted from the call with his friends.

“streaming?” you questioned quietly, peeking your head into the room. he turned his chair to you as he slung his headphones around his neck.

“nah,” he shook his head. “sap is, but i’m muted.” you smiled, opening the door further to slip in. “what’s up, babe?”

“brought some snacks,” you smiled, holding up a plate in one of your hands. “and water, ‘cause god knows you’re not drinking that.”

he chuckled with a grin. “thank you, babe. you’re very thoughtful.” you just hummed, placing the items onto his desk. “you know what that deserves?”

you arched an eyebrow at him as he leaned back in his gaming chair, a familiar mischievous smirk on his face. “what?” he pointed above him and you let out a laugh at the sight of the mistletoe just above his chair. “wow.” he just chuckled as you looked back down at him. “now i have to kiss you every time i come in here?”

“yep,” he hummed sweetly. “if you don’t, santa takes away one gift, you know.”

you let out another laugh. “is that so?” he nodded confidently, his leg bouncing his chair back and forth as he smirked at you. “you’re ridiculous, clay.”

“i know,” he chuckled as you finally leaned down to kiss your boyfriend. he hummed into it as you cupped his face in your hands. you nearly yelped when he pulled you onto his lap, deepening what was supposed to be an innocent kiss even further.

you two would have continued for as long as you liked had it not been for his friends beginning to scream for him, loud enough that it could be heard from the headphones around his neck. he groaned when you pulled away from him.

“i hate them.”

“go save those boys,” you snickered, lifting yourself from his lap.

he grumbled as he slipped his headphones back onto his ears, calling to you before you could close his door, “you better come see me again.”

george
+ it would have to be your doing
+ that man would be too embarrassed at just the THOUGHT of hanging it up
+ so you just strung it somewhere obvious, in a doorway somewhere
+ he notices it right away but he gets all nervous and blushy
+ you’ll have to nudge him to get him to actually kiss you
+ that poor boy is too embarrassed by the littlest things

george checked his phone briefly when he came to a stopping point in his editing, smiling when he saw you sent him a text not too long ago proclaiming you had made lunch. he happily shot you a text back saying he was making his way, standing from his chair and relishing in the moment he got to stretch his legs.

he heard your humming and smiled, heading straight for the kitchen. but when he reached the doorway, a bright green and red mistletoe stuck out from the white frame. he felt himself immediately turn red, seeing you were just inside the kitchen, cleaning up from making lunch.

“hey love,” you smiled. “hungry?”

“yeah, uh..,” he coughed. “did you.. put this here?” you looked up curiously, greeted with the sight of your red-faced boyfriend staring at the garland.

“oh, yeah,” you smiled. “i was finishing up decorating and found it.”

he nodded, eyes still glued to it. “well, then..” his eyes turned to where you smiled, resting your head in your hand. he looked at you like he was expecting you to know what his staying meant, and you did, but you wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“what is it?” you encouraged with a hum.

“well, i-it’s mistletoe,” your boyfriend spoke, gesturing to the plant. he let out an awkward laugh, “aren’t we gonna..?” he scoffed at your mischievous grin. “god, you just love to embarrass me!”

“i do,” you admitted. “do you want a kiss, george?”

“shut- don’t say it like that!” you laughed out again at his red face, walking over to him finally. “god, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“a pleasant way to die,” you smiled, taking his face into your hands. he rolled his eyes, though he was now smiling at you, too. you placed a sweet kiss to his lips that he quickly reciprocated, despite his former embarrassment.

“im keeping it up.”

“please don’t.”

sapnap
+ he’s such a little shit about it
+ for NO reason
+ he knows he can kiss you any time, any place
+ but the second there’s mistletoe around he gets a stupid smile
+ he’s all like “ohh y/n~~”
+ you’re like motherfucker just kiss me already
+ probably makes you kiss him first
+ for extra little shit points

“hmm, i wonder where this came from..”

“what’s that sap?” you hum, stepping away from the kitchen to see what he was muttering about. his wide, contagious grin brought a smile to your own face, though you knew nothing good could come from it.

“did you put this up, babe?” sapnap questioned, pointing at the mistletoe he had stationed himself under.

you crossed your arms, leaning in the kitchen doorway. “i didn’t, actually.” your boyfriend just hummed. “did you?”

“oh, no, i didn’t,” he shrugged, his tone a miserable attempt at innocence. “weird.”

“very,” you mused. you almost giggled aloud when your boyfriend looked over at you, eyes expectant and mischievous. “well, then you can take down the mystery mistletoe while i finish dinner.” you saw his expression drop for a moment when you barely turned toward the kitchen.

“what? no- you’re not even gonna kiss me?”

you giggled at your boyfriend’s pout, finally stepping forward and under the mistletoe. “you’re such a sap.”

“it’s in the name, babe,” he replied, his grin immediately returning as your hands slipped to his shoulders. you rolled your eyes before leaning up to give your boyfriend a sweet kiss that was too brief for his liking, chasing your lips for another when you tried to pull away. after a few giggly kisses, you finally managed to push sapnap away.

“you’ve had your wish,” you laughed. “i gotta finish dinner now.”

“alright, but the mistletoe’s staying!”0

karl
+ this cutie pie
+ loves the idea so much he considers investing in some mistletoe for your first christmas living together
+ too bad you beat him to it :))
+ walks in on you hanging it up and you’re like “!!get out!!”
+ he thinks you’re so adorable

“awww..,” karl cooed when he saw you standing on a step stool, attempting to paste the garland to the entrance of your shared bedroom.

your gaze snapped down to him and you lost your balance for a moment. “no- karl!” you huff with a pout, dropping your arms to your sides. “it was supposed to be a surprise!” the poorly taped mistletoe fell in an instant, tapping you on the head on its way down.

“aw, sweetie, it still is! i still love it,” karl grinned, walking over to wrap his arms around your waist. his head was at your stomach level, but your dramatic pout was still clear. “it definitely surprised me.”

“yeah, yeah,” you whined, lightly hitting his shoulder. “why’d you have to come in?”

he shrugged, “i was wondering where the step stool was..”

“you don’t need the step stool, you giant,” you complained, though you were smiling now. you hit his shoulder again and he let go of you, bending down to pick up the fallen décor. “whatever.. i wouldn’t have gotten it hung up anyway.”

“you tried,” he smiled, sticking the fake plant to your forehead. you grimaced, but it fell just as easily as it did from the ceiling. karl laughed and pressed a kiss to your pouted lips. “i’ll help you hang it up, love.”

“you better give me a proper kiss for my efforts first,” you demanded lightly, bopping your finger on his nose.

“happily,” karl muttered with a grin, leaning up to you a proper pre-mistletoe kiss.

quackity
+ y’all.
+ has anyone ever seen those funny sticks that have mistletoe on the end? that you’re supposed to hold over couples or whatever?
+ he has one.
+ he hangs it over the both of you at any point in the day
+ and he’s always like “oh wow! what are the chances mi amor!”
+ you always kiss him but ohmygosh, he’s a dork

“oh, mi amor..!”

you didn’t have to look up to know quackity was holding that ridiculous stick over your head again. you just sighed, keeping your gaze trained on the essay you were typing rather than your lover’s shit-eating grin in the reflection of you computer. “i hope you know that the more you do this, the less romantic it becomes.”

the shift in reflection only told you that his grin had turned into a pout. “don’t say that! mistletoe is magical, babe, the romance never dies!”

you couldn’t help but smile at quackity’s dramatics. “you’re a desperate man, aren’t you?”

“desperate for your love,” he admitted shamelessly, leaning against the side of your desk with a cheesy grin. you just shook your head distractedly as you continued typing, trying your best to resume your previous frame of thought.

“you’re not gonna go away until you get a kiss, are you?” you hummed as you typed.

“nope,” your boyfriend affirmed. you sighed to yourself, thinking, ‘better make it count.’

when you finished the sentence you were typing, you quickly stood and turned to your boyfriend, tugging him by the shirt. he yelped quietly, but was quickly silenced by his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was far more ferocious than he had anticipated.

your lips were hot and quick moving against his, and he dropped the stupid stick of mistletoe to catch up with your sudden passion. by the end of the kiss, quackity had you trapped against your desk with your hands still gripping his t-shirt tightly.

“woah,” your boyfriend breathed, eyes blown wide with surprise. you could feel his breathing was slightly labored, tickling your cheeks as you just smiled at him. “and you said the romance was fading!”

badboyhalo
+ he doesn’t plan it, but BOY has he dreamt about it
+ nothing can convince me that bad isn’t a hopeless romantic
+ he’s definitely thought of that sweet, magical mistletoe kiss that you tell your kids about when the holidays come around
+ but he’s a shy boy when it comes to romance, so most of his fantasies stay fantasies
+ you guys do get your mistletoe kiss!! it’s just a lot less perfect than either of you imagined
+ but in a way, doesn’t that make it even more magical?

“stop laughing!”

“i’m not laughing!” you assured to bad, though a giggle laced your words. you held your hand out to him as he planted his skates back on the ice. “you’re learning! i’m not laughing at you.”

once he was uprighted, bad huffed out a cloud of cold air in your direction. you yelped, giggling again when he pressed a kiss to your cold nose.

“let’s take a break,” he grumbled, tugging your hand toward the exit of the ice. “i want hot chocolate.”

“okay, okay,” you giggled, gripping onto your boyfriend’s strong forearm. he smiled as you gently guided the two of you over. “you’re not awful for a beginner, bad.”

he grumbled again, “yeah, yeah..” he couldn’t help but smile when you rested your head against his arm, but he continued to grieve, “keep rubbing in my face how you’ve skated since you were a kid, yeah, that feels great.” he just laughed out when you lifted your head and whacked your gloved hand against his arm.

you helped him slow to a stop as you approached the exit. “you got it?” you hummed when he grasped the railing next to the exit, helping stop his motion before he attempted to step off.

“yes,” he assured. “but thank you, muffin.” you smiled at the endearing nickname as you used the railing to slow yourself to a stop. 

“oh, bad, look!” you suddenly exclaimed, drawing his attention away from the shaking of his skates. you pointed to the entranceway/exit, which had a small bough of mistletoe dangling from it. “mistletoe.”

he could admit his heart warmed at the sight, his boyish fantasies of the perfect mistletoe kiss with you flooding his mind at once. “aww,” he smiled. he stabilized himself before lifting one hand from the railing, albeit a little shaky and awkwardly. “shall we?”

you giggled at your adorable boyfriend. you took his hand, using it to skate you closer to him. “we shall.” he smiled sweetly at you again before pulling you in a gentle, long kiss that made you forget about the cold that surrounded you. bad took his other hand off of the railing to place on your arm, and that’s when it went wrong.

bad immediately lost his balance, slipping backward and taking you down with him. you landed on top of him with a yelp and bad cringed at his own clumsiness. but just when he was going to apologize out of sheer embarrassment, you started to giggle. not at him; he could tell from the genuine sound that you were giggling at the situation rather than the culprit.

his face, already warm from embarrassment, grew even hotter when you only spoke, “god, i love you, bad.”

c!technoblade
+ this man could not give less of a fuck
+ you probably point out some mistletoe and he’s like. okay
+ sometimes on the inside he’ll be a little blushy about it
+ the idea of having a perfect moment to kiss you is so incredibly tempting, like the perfect opportunity to FINALLY make a move
+ so after finally happening across some, he might just take the chance to kiss you
+ maybe. it’d take a lot of sudden confidence from him

“aw, look,” you hummed. technoblade’s gaze turned to you as you both continued your trek through the snow. “two zombies under some mistletoe.” you were pointing to the entrance of a cave, where two zombies were glaring out at your figures.

“romantic,” technoblade muttered, looking to the long vine of poisonous garland that encased the entrance to the cave. “god, that shit’s everywhere..”

you nodded in agreement, looking back to the path ahead of you toward technoblade’s house. “well, it’s winter in the tundra. that just means more snow and a whole lot of mistletoe.”

“alright, dr. seuss,” he snickered. you just shook your head at him.

“rhyming or not, im right,” you smiled, looking up at another entanglement of the garland in one of the tall trees. he took a moment to admire the way the snow reflected off the overcast skies, giving you a glow that was all too familiar to him. yet it still made his chest grow warm. “have you ever had a mistletoe kiss, tech?”

he raised his eyebrow at the question, but you were still looking into the trees. “no.. but i did slap wilbur under some once.”

you immediately laughed out, turning to him with a grin. “no way.”

“listen, he puckered up and i was not about to kiss him,” he explained, holding his hands up in mock surrender. you just laughed again. he smiled at you before looking ahead, seeing his house was just around the corner of some trees now. “why do you ask?”

you shrugged. “you’ve lived in the tundra long enough; i figured you’d have a fun story.” you turned the corner to his house. “and you did.”

“i always pull through,” he shrugged in response, making you chuckle as you both stepped onto his porch. he moved to get the door for you, but he stopped when you looked around and your gaze caught on something above the two of you.

a patch of mistletoe had made its way to his porch, snaking in from a nearby tree. his heart nearly stopped, the voices that had been whispering about mistletoe now starting to yell at him as his gaze flickered between you and the vine.

‘kiss her.’ ‘KISS HER.’ ‘gods, please kiss her!’

then you turned to him with a gentle smile and a tilt of your head. “you gonna slap me?” god, he prayed he wasn’t imagining the newfound flush that creeped up your neck.

though he smirked amusedly, he spoke softer than he had intended, “no. i wouldn’t do that to you.” you just continued to look into his eyes, your smile growing at his words. the voices continued to swirl encouragements before he finally leaned toward you, taking your cheek into his hand and leaning down to press his cold lips to yours.

his heart hammered for a moment before you began to kiss him back, placing one of your gloved hands on his chest. it was a short kiss, way shorter than he would have liked, but it was enough to silence the voices to a hush when he pulled away as he awaited you to speak. but you just smiled sheepishly at him.

technoblade smirked with satisfaction as his hand fell from your cheek. he finally opened the door for you, muttering, “way better than that time with wilbur.”

wilbur
+ there’s two ways this starts
+ either 1. he sets the mistletoe up himself and plans the perfect moment
+ or 2. you two happen across some and he still becomes the most smug romantic motherfucker u know
+ either way he’s gonna be smug and proud of himself
+ he just loves you a lot and mistletoe is a PERFECT excuse to make a lasting memory for the both of you

“let’s grab some hot chocolate,” wilbur suggested when you shivered against him again. despite being completely bundled up, nothing truly protected you from the bitter cold of england’s winter.

“yes, please,” you immediately agreed, and wilbur snickered at your eagerness. he pressed a quick kiss to your nose before guiding you toward a small café.

there was a line when you entered, but the air was so warm in contrast to the snowy streets that neither of you minded. you cuddled into your boyfriend’s side as he hummed along to some holiday song that softly played in the shop.

his gaze wandered around the small building, stopping when he saw some mistletoe. it was just a pace or two away, further up in the line. the cogs in his brain immediately began to turn, devising the perfect way to kiss you as the line moved another step.

“what are you thinking about, wil?” you hummed contentedly, seeing your boyfriend spacing out. wilbur just looked down at you with a grin. the line moved another step forward.

“nothing, love,” he smiled, guiding you to step forward with him. “but..” you looked up at him expectantly. “i do believe you owe me something.”

you thought for a moment. “is it my turn to buy?”

“no,” he chuckled. he took your chin into his hand and tilted your head up to catch sight of the mistletoe hung above you amongst other decorations. you just shook your head at him with a chuckle.

“that’s an easy price to pay,” you ceded. you were going to lean up for a simple peck when wilbur’s hand snaked around to rest on your back, quickly maneuvering your body around to dip you dramatically. you could feel his grin as he pressed a long, deep kiss to your lips. you lost yourself in the passion for just a moment before remembering where the two of you were.

you smacked his chest when he finally pulled away, uprighting the two of you again. “wilbur soot, we are in public!” you hissed quietly, looking around to see some of the other patrons of the café smiling and shaking their heads at your pair.

“my love for you is not confined by societal standards,” he proclaimed, placing a hand on his heart as he grinned at your flushing features. his heart was racing in his chest still, but your embarrassed, lovesick look was worth the anxiety. you pressed your hands to your hot cheeks.

“you are suddenly my least favorite poet-!”

punz
+ definitely didn’t plan it
+ let’s face it, he probably didn’t even think about it
+ but when the opportunity is presented, who is he to pass it up??
+ definitely gets smug and teases you
+ also like sapnap, probably waits for you to kiss him first

“very funny,” you teased after your boyfriend threw some off handed comment your way. he snickered, opening the door to the diner for you anyway.

you leaned against him after he stepped in, waiting for the hostess to have a free moment to get you a table. he mumbled another tease to you and you just shook your head, whacking his arm lazily. he just chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss in your hair as his arm wrapped around your shoulders and tugged you closer to him.

as you smiled, you heard some giggles sound nearby. when you looked over to see a small group of teenage girls sat, looking over at you and punz and whispering. at first, you assumed they were fans, until you noted their gazes flickered above the two of you.

you looked up, gaining punz’s attention when you lifted your head from his shoulder. he looked with you and let out a short laugh at the sight of a hefty bunch of mistletoe perched above the two of you.

“so, you gonna kiss me?” punz hummed, turning his gaze back to you as you were still staring at the plant.

“no, you’re gonna kiss me,” you shrugged surely.

“i am?” he responded, smirking down at you. despite his continued teasing, his eyes were now flickering from your gaze to your lips.

“yeah,” you smiled. “because you’re taller and closer to the mistletoe. so you gotta kiss me first.”

“oh, is that how it works?” your boyfriend teased, his voice a low rumble. you hummed to confirm and he let out one last snicker before pressing his lips to yours. you placed a hand on his cheek to relish in the sweet moment before pulling away, mainly for the sake of the patrons of the restaurant.

you tucked your head back into your boyfriend’s side contentedly, listening to the teenage girls swoon and coo at the both of you.

fundy
+ he would be such a shy boy around his s/o i love him
+ it would be another situation where you two were out and about and stumbled across some mistletoe
+ he would notice it but wouldn’t point it out right away
+ i assume he’s very shy about pda so he’s DEFINITELY not gonna initiate
+ definitely already blushing
+ you’ll have to notice it for him to finally kiss you

fundy was usually a very active listener; he’d make small noises and comments as you told stories, which you often tended to ramble on as you two shopped. but now, as you wandered about the toy aisle, chattering on about what to get your nephew, your lover was silent.

“you’re unusually quiet,” you commented after another few minutes of fundy’s silence. you looked over to see his face was red, but not the kind of red that came from the cold. instead, the red creeped up from his neck to lick at his cheeks. “you alright, love?”

“y-yeah!” he assured, rubbing a sheepish hand to the back of his neck. “yeah.”

“you sure?” you prodded, placing your hand on his elbow. he gave you a sweet smile, though he was still tense under your gaze and touch.

“im alright,” he nodded. fundy held your gaze for another moment before moving again, busying himself by looking at some legos behind you. you pursed your lips in thought for a moment, looking around to see what could have flustered your boyfriend. you connected the dots immediately when you spotted the mistletoe just overhead.

you smiled to yourself, glancing around briefly to make sure no one else was around to save your boyfriend from further embarrassment.

“hey, floris, can i get your opinion on this?” you hummed as innocently as you could. your puppy of a boyfriend immediately trotted over.

“what is it, love?”

“just this,” you hummed, taking his cheek into your hand and pressing a short kiss to his lips. the blush immediately returned to his face as you smiled at him. “don’t like mistletoe?”

it took him a second to process, stuttering, “n-no, i do! i definitely do, just..” he absentmindedly took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together clumsily. he shrugged, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “didn’t know if you did.”

“i do,” you assured, squeezing his hand. he finally broke into an eased smile. “let’s keep looking.” you tugged his hand to pull him to the next aisle, but fundy didn’t budge. when you turned back to him, you didn’t get a chance to question him before his other hand snuck onto your cheek and he pressed a harder, more confident kiss to your lips that you happily reciprocated.

when he pulled away, you gave him a knowing look. he began to splutter again, rambling out, “i-i thought you deserved a proper mistletoe kiss!”

“you’re adorable, my love.”

eret
+ she’s been awaiting all YEAR for this moment
+ they just love the idea of a romantic, show-stopping mistletoe kiss
+ definitely put the mistletoe up themself
+ probably also made you two a romantic date night, complete with a reservation to a nice restaurant and an ice skating date
+ he wants everything to be perfect, but because he’s so confident in the fact that you’ll make anything perfect, it literally becomes the most romantic evening ever

“we’re never going ice skating again,” you giggled, clinging to your lover’s arm as you walked back to your apartment.

“what!” she exclaimed as you continued to giggle. “why not, love? i thought it was fun!”

“it was,” you assured. “but you’re too good at it; it made me feel worse when i fell the seven times i did.”

eret hummed, “oh, love..” they removed their arm from your grasp to wrap it around your shoulders. “your falling was adorable.”

“falling? adorable?” you sounded incredulously, and he laughed after hearing the words repeated back to him. “you’re insane.”

he shook his head, retracting his arm to retrieve his keys from his pocket as you approached your doorstep. “maybe i just think you’readorable.”

you shook your head at her. “you’re insane.” as she unlocked the door with another chuckle, you shifted your gaze around amusedly. your curious eyes stopped when they found something of interest above you. “oh, hey..” she turned to you curiously and you pointed. “mistletoe.”

they turned their gaze above and smiled at the small plant. “so it is.” they tucked the key back into their pocket and turned to you. they raised their eyebrows, tilting their head teasingly. “guess you gotta kiss me.”

“i guess i do,” you hummed, mimicking their teasing actions. he chuckled at you, sliding one hand into your hair as you placed a hand on his chest, meeting in a perfectly warm kiss that contrasted the cold californian air.

after that passionate moment, you pulled away to grin at your lover. she chuckled, pressing her fingers to her lips to relish the moment before opening the door to the apartment. “totally worth nearly falling off the ladder earlier.”

“wha- alastair!”

ranboo angst!! heed the warnings!!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484198

I totally scrapped the original chapter like, 3 times cuz I wasn’t happy with it. But I’m actually pretty happy with this new chapter I’ve settled on! 
If I update it today, it might be around midnight or something.

Thank you so much for all the support on it, it means so much <333 And thank you for being patient with me and my wack Saturday upload schedule lmao

You can either

A) Search up ‘Second Chances’ by atryhardauthor on Archive Of Our Own

OR

B) Click >>>Here!<<<

Enjoy

You can read the most recent chapter (CH9) of And I Look In The Mirror All The Time, Wonderin’ What He Don’t See In Meby either:

A) Searching up ‘And I Look In The Mirror All The Time, Wonderin’ What He Don’t See In Me’ by atryhardauthor on Archive Of Our Own

OR

B) Clicking >>>here!!<<<

Its a feel-good chapter :DD

▬ CINNAMON SWEET ▬

Pairing:Modern!Technoblade x Gn!Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of tears, mentions of anger, minor anxiety, allusions to sex and tenseness (?) overall in the first half of the work

Synopsis: In which Techno forgets about a date he had planned for the two of you. When he comes to pick you up out of the pouring rain, the air between you two is left tense- almost in a suffocating manner. He knows he can’t trust his words to help him out of this hole that he’s dug himself, but perhaps his actions can do something to heal these wounds. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: This work is dedicated to @dreamwvrld​ as an entry to her 1 year event! I know I’ve told her this before, but I’m so f*cking honored to be a mutual of hers and everything that she does inspires me so much and just- gods. If you don’t already, please please pleasego give her works a read and give her a follow, as she absolutely deserves it an so much more. 

There’s a certain type of beauty that comes with silence. For many, it’s found in time spent alone, that solitude acting as a breath of fresh air in a way. For others, they may find it in a comforting silence shared between two or more people. The usage of words isn’t exactly necessary in being able to fully enjoy the company of others, and that’s precisely what’s so wonderful about it.

Though, in this case, silence is suffocating.

—-

Technoblade sits with his back set straight against the driver’s seat of his car, sweat acting as an adhesive to keep him stuck in place as his fingers curl around the steering wheel in a grip that leaves his knuckles a lighter shade. Normally, for him, silence while driving is something that he enjoys, being able to block the worries of the day out as he keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead of him.

Today, however, this silence leaves the air thick and tense, almost like smog.

You have your body pressed up against the opposite side of the car, arms curled around your legs in a, what you would call, fetal-like position. It’s slightly uncomfortable and entirely awkward, but it’s the only solace you can find in a situation such as this.

The road ahead stretches on for miles and miles, streets left near-empty with only a handful of people to be seen out this late.

Now that you think of it, you should be one of those people out on the sidewalk right now. You should be curled into Techno’s side as you walk down the avenues, genuine smiles etched on to your faces as you enjoy one another’s company.

But again, given the current situation, that seems like nothing more than a pipe dream.

Techno drums his fingers against the steering wheel as a poor attempt to fill the silence. It’s hypnotic when you take the time to zero-in on it. It’s like- the hooves of horses galloping onto a track, going faster and faster and faster until one crosses the finish line.

That doesn’t happen.

His eyes cast toward you every few seconds. He’s aware he’s doing it. You’re aware he’s doing it. But, somehow, he doesn’t know that you know. Funny, no?

He’s… exhausted. He’s spent the past 14 hours- 6am to 8pm- hunched over a desk, work piling higher and higher above the limits of his patience while higher-ups breathe hot air down his neck, lecturing and nit-picking him at every chance they get.

“Remember T, I need this on my desk by Thursday morning.” “C’mon, is this really all you have to show?” “Chop chop, porkchop! I need these papers sent to our asap!”

He just wants to go home and sleep with you, his partner, the two of you huddled beneath the blankets and feeding off one another’s warmth. If given the opportunity, he’d sleep with you like that for a week and then some.

But the guilt of leaving you out in the rain for hours on end after he’d promised you dinner that night hangs over his head heavily, the whispers in his head laughing at him and scolding him and telling him “they’re going to leave you because of this. And you deserve it.”

He hates it, but he knows that there’s nothing he can do to change what he’s done and he hates it. He just wants to say something, maybe for you to say something if not him to fill this awkward and tense silence that’s been simmering since you stepped into the car a little under 10 minutes ago.

Well, it’s not even the fact that you haven’t looked at him. Saying that implies that it just hasn’t happened yet, that you haven’t turned your head to take a good look at him yet. No- since you slammed the door behind you and huddled into your current position, you’ve refused to cast your eyes anywhere near him. You’ve actively decided to not look at him.

And truthfully, it breaks both of your hearts, not just his.

He can’t see it as your face is directed away from him, but tears prick at your eyes, leaving them a dull reddish-white shade as they accumulate. He had promised to dedicate tonight to you. Promised that nothing else would get in the way and stop this night from happening, and yet that is exactly what had happened.

He’d been so… distant lately. With the way his hours were lined up, he barely even got to see you awake anymore. You’d be lucky if you got to see him for half a second on his way out or when he’d periodically press a kiss to your forehead before knocking out beside you in bed. He barely had any time with you anymore and you’d begun to hate it.

You’ve never had a problem with it before.

Truthfully, you hadn’t. It was something Techno had always loved about you, even before going into his current profession. You’ve always been patient with him, understanding when things came up out of the blue and he’d have to cancel, but he’d always reschedule for sometime soon and make it up to you.

You still had that mentality, of course, but now it was being tested.

He had cleared everything off of his board for tonight, doing everything in his power to set aside the night for you both. And even then, it wasn’t enough.

Technoblade was not a man that broke promises. He dealt with them seriously, and there was not one moment in your relationships where he‘d broken a promise. Well, until now. And that’s what hurt you so much about this whole situation- that, even after having made it a point all throughout your relationship that promises were final, he still fell short.

It broke you.

Techno isn’t a stupid man. Yes, he may make stupid decisions, but that doesn’t inherently make him stupid. He knows he let you down and he knows how angry you are about this whole thing and he knows that you’re making it a point not to show that anger because he knows and you know that doing that would only make everything worse.

It’s this frustratingly repetitive cycle that he finds himself in that he hates so much. He doesn’t know what to do to fix everything because he feels as though he’s walking on thin ice, the wrong step leading him to plunge into the icy currents below.

F*ck, he hates this so much.

The car slows, the dull click click click of the blinker resonating in the silent car as the vehicle turns into a parking lot. It’s only then that you decide to actually look away from the passenger’s side window for the first time since getting in the car.

It’s a plaza. There are several markets and shops dispersed around the area, dull red and blue ‘OPEN’ signs flashing on and off in store windows. You can count on your hands the number of cars in the lot- all space far away from each other to subtly let you know that nobody is shopping at the same stores.

It’s when Techno pulls into a parking space in front of a small bakery that you actually speak up. Your voice is hoarse, tone soft and low as you speak to him for what you realize to be the first time that day.

“Techno? Why are we stopping here? I thought we were going straight home?”

You hate how pathetic you sound, voice small as you speak to the man. He responds quickly after a few beats of silence.

“I need to pick something up real quick. I’ll only be a few. I promise.”

Oh, the irony.

In a fluid motion, Techno takes the keys out of the ignition, the car drumming down into silence as the engine slows to a stop. The heater, of which had been on the entire ride, stops as well, all the heat from the car settling into the stale air you had become familiar with.

He- Techno, is quiet. Eerily so, though not in a way where it seems like he’s about to chew you out, but the exact opposite. No, instead, this silence makes him feel like a child about to be scolded by their parents for doing something they shouldn’t have.

It’s not far off, actually.

His eyes are trained on the view ahead of him- the bakery, watching the workers in the store slump over the counter in exhaustion as they count the minutes tick by and calculate how much longer it’ll be until they’re allowed to leave. It’s only in this silence that you actually cast your gaze to him, taking every inch of him in and storing it in the back of your mind for later.

His hair is a mess, long pink strands tied up into a messy bun that barely even does its job of keeping his hair out of his face. His wide, square glasses are left askew on his face, falling off the edge of his nose but hanging on at just the right angle so that they don’t fall. His eyes- his eyes are so dull and full of sorrow, you almost break into sobs then and there.

There’s so much emotion behind those brilliantly red eyes, the hundreds of different shades of the colour swirling into a mix that leaves you gasping for air.

Even so, you still want to yell and kick and scream and pull your hair out from its roots and ask him “why?”Why would he make a promise such as this- a promise in general if he couldn’t even keep his word to it?

You hate him and you love him all the same for it, but f*ck is this whole thing messing with your head.

Your focus then shifts from his face, down the length of his arms, to his hands. The drumming of his fingers against the steering wheel had stopped a short while ago, instead his hands turn to hold the object in a vice grip. One of which looks as though if he were to apply any more pressure to it, the steel would bend and break underneath him.

Your fingers twitch. You want to offer him comfort; you want to let him know you aren’t entirely mad at him- but, still; you are mad at him in a way, so wouldn’t that action contradict itself?

Your eyes travel back up to his face, but the difference this time, as opposed to the last, is that he meets your gaze. His entire body freezes and stiffens the second he meets your line of sight, breath catching in the back of his throat as his mind scrabble to figure out what he needs to do next as to not f*ck anything up further.

So, his solution in this scenario is to leave. His hands abruptly part in front of the wheel, almost in a way that resembles someone being burnt by a hot object. His sweaty palms leave a certain shine on the wheel, and it’s then that you can obviously see the dents his grip has left.

You almost don’t catch it, but he mumbles something under his breath, something along the lines of “you can keep the keys in the ignition if you want.”

Something like that.

He’s quick to open the door after those words leave his mouth, stepping out head-first with the crisp air biting his exposed face. He’s not entirely out yet, though, as only his first left and upper body have exited the car.

Now you have a choice to make, and you hope to all the gods that may listen that you’re making the right one.

“Wait, give me a second and I’ll be right behind you. Grab the keys.”

You aren’t surprised that he listens to your words, healing his movements as you open your own car door and exit the vehicle, arms continuing to curl around yourself, though this time the reason for doing so is because of the cold.

Techno notes that, already shedding the muddled brown cardigan he had been wearing moments before as he snatches the keys from the ignition. The car door shuts behind him with a slam, keys in one hand and sweater in the other.

He meets up with you around the hood of the car, passing you the sweater with pleading eyes, hoping that you’ll take it without argument. You do, and both you and him are grateful for that for your own reasons that don’t need entertaining at this time.

As the two of you cross the short distance from Techno’s car to the store’s front, his lips part in awe. He… he never expected you to come along with him. He thought you would have stayed in the car if anything, maybe turning on the heater and radio in wait for him, or possibly screaming into the void about how utterly stupid he is.

Or, hell- maybe you’d drive off and leave him where he stood.

But no, instead, you’re walking inside the bakery with him, your strides matching his as the two of you go up and down each aisle, inspecting the different loaves of bread and treats that the establishment offers.

Techno has a quaint brown basket in his hold at this point in time, one which he grabbed by the door the second he walked in. That minor aspect was something he rather enjoyed about the store, the small, stupid detail bringing a smile to his face- yours too, it seemed.

Even with this soft, barely noticeable grin on his face, you notice the way his hands are curled tightly around the handle once more. It’s an anxiety thing, that much you can tell. But you notice, of course you do, so as an attempt to ease the anxieties of the man you love, you softly curl your palm around the back of his.

It’s an attempt not only to soothe him, but to also try and ease this tension that’s been forming between the two of you.

Are you stupid for trying to comfort him after he ditched you and made you look like an idiot? Absolutely. But would you rather have him anxious and worried that he’s in worse than he thinks he is as opposed to him calm and ready to talk through it with a level head? Absolutely not.

He noticeably relaxes from your little gesture, his shoulders slumping a little as he casts his gaze at you. His eyes hold a silent “thank you” within them, and all you can do to respond is nod. He gets the message, bringing your hand atop of his up to his lips as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of it.

He’s got you wrapped around his finger even if he doesn’t know it.

A soft, breathy laugh passes through your lips at the affection, your eyes breaking away from him and instead toward the baked goods around you as you both walk up and down the mini-aisles within the confines of the store. Soft jazz plays over the speakers, perhaps Billie Holiday , and it only romanticizes the scene further.

Techno’s not necessarily looking for anything in particular while he’s here. He planned to just come in and buy you something sweet and hopefully that would somehow resolve his issues. But, watching your eyes linger on every item within the store, small oohs and aahs sounding from you every few seconds, he realizes that was a sh*tty plan to begin with.

As the two of you near the front of the store, a glass barrier displaying all the freshly cooked sweets under the countertops, you stop in your tracks and watch as one worker places a freshly baked batch of cinnamon rolls onto a rack.

Your sudden halt brings Techno to a stop beside you, his eyes moving their way up to your face, and then soon after following your gaze to the treat that was making the bakery smell sweeter than it already had.

It’s in that moment that Techno knows exactly what he’s getting.

Techno isn’t standing entirely beside you, per se, but rather a little bit behind you as your body has turned toward the cinnamon rolls ahead. So, with his hand at the dip of your back, he pressed you to move closer to the cash register, his head finding a home next to yours as he meets the eyes of the cash register.

The transaction moves quickly, the worker quickly putting four or so cinnamon rolls into a small box for the two of you to take. Though you are in no way focused on that part of anything. No, rather your attention lingers on the way his warm breaths fans down the side of your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You focus on the way his body presses into your back, the heat of him seeping through your clothes in a way that makes you shiver.

It’s only when he squeezes his hand around your own, tugging you softly towards the exit that you’re snapped out of this trance he’s put you in.

D*mn him.

But you get the notion quickly, following behind him as the smell of the cinnamon rolls follows you out the door and through the parking lot. There’s a silence between you two, but this time it’s in no way as awkward as it had been merely 15 minutes ago.

As you’re getting into the car, shutting the door softly behind you, you notice that Techno doesn’t open his trunk or stick the treats in the back seat of his car. Instead, he steps into the car head-first with the treats following after, placing the thin cardboard box onto this lap as he settles in, shutting the door behind him.

You watch as he opens up the box carefully, taking one roll out and hiding it to you. There are no napkins available, so the sticky coating of the treat travels from his hand to yours as you accept it, taking a bite the second the treat is in your grasp.

He follows your actions soon after, taking one for himself and taking a bite out of it. It’s the first thing he’s had to eat all day, so he tries his best not to eat like a starved man (even if that’s exactly what he does the second the flavours hit his tongue).

The two of you eat in a comfortable silence, the cinnamony-sweet taste from the rolls settling and melting on to your tongues. It’s… gods, there aren’t words in the English language that can fully depict how good the treat tastes on his tongue right now.

Though, however good it may be, there’ll always be one taste that stands above the rest as his favorite,

The muddled silence shared between the two of you speaks a thousand words. The soft chewing, the sounds of dough tearing away from each other, the rustling of clothes against the seat- all of it.

Techno’s no good with his words, both of you know that. It’s not a bad thing, of course, as he expressed his feelings and emotions in other ways, but the fact is still important to note upon. Nonetheless, him going out of his way to buy you a treat as a sh*tty way to make up for forgetting about tonight is… well, a horrible way to make up for the situation. Though with Technoblade? You understand that these actions of his express the way he feels better than words ever could.

Between bites, though, he does make the effort to apologize to you verbally. He can’t meet your eyes while doing so, and while others might take that action as a way to say that he doesn’t actually mean his words, you as his partner know that it’s the only way he can put together his thoughts in a coherent manner as to stop them from crumbling beneath him.

Even if he never meets your gaze during his little speech, you keep your eyes entirely focused on him, your sticky fingers as a result of the icing dripping down them long forgotten and stored in the back of your mind for later reference.

It’s only when his mouth closes for good that he actually turns his head, deep red eyes meeting yours. Though you could never understand it, there’s this way his breath audibly catches when he meets your eyes. They’re so full of… emotion, in a way that he can only describe as a love-struck gaze that makes his heart skip a few beats, a dopey smile forming on his lips.

Every part about you, every little thing that makes up who you are - he can see all the love and understanding and compassion that follows them when you look at him. The way your smile reaches your eyes, the way the colors in your eyes mix in a way he’s never seen before, pupils blown wide and visible to him. Just-every single thing about you leaves him at a loss for words.

He loves it.

You take Techno’s face in your hands, sticking fingers pressing up against his cheeks as you take hold of him and guide his lips to yours. The kiss is so sweet, so soft and full of love that he can’t help but slump against your hold, fingers finding themselves at your waist as he ever so slowly drags you impossibly closer to him.

F*ck, the two of you would stay like this forever if you could, your lips pressed against each other in kisses that leave you both light-headed and dizzy.

But alas, air is something that the body can only go so long without. So, as your lips part from Techno’s, a small string of saliva connecting the two of you, he presses his forehead into yours with a guttural humm following after it.

He loves you; he loves you; he loves you; he loves you. Gods above, the things he would do for you- to you, if you so asked. He’s wrapped around your finger and gods, he’d be a fool to ever try to leave that.

So, as your softly whisper against his skin, telling him that you’re grateful he made an effort to make it up to you, but you still are quite a bit upset about the whole thing- you tell him that you’re willing to put the situation behind the both of you so long as he made it up the right way in the future.

He knows that he has work to put in to better himself and your relationship, but as he presses tender and fervent kisses against your lips and skin, he takes a deep breath to give you a proclamation that leaves a lovesick grin plastered onto your face with your mind in a haze that make you euphoric:

“I know that I have work to do, I know that I need to get better at- well, a lot of things. But thank you, thank you, thank you for forgiving me this once. I promise to you, darling, that I’ll take a thousand years and then some to make it up to you if that’s what it takes. My heart is yours, and in your care it shall stay.”

becoming human. | c!dream. [ii]

summary. android trafficking has been a huge issue in detroit ever since anti-android ownership laws have been passed. so it’s a little ironic how one was ordered to help you solve this case, isn’t it?

pairing. y/n x c!dream (platonic)

genre. dbh!au, c!dsmp, future!au

word count.4k

[four part series]

part I   |   part II   |   part III   |   part iv 

warnings.swearing,fem!reader, gun, driving under the influence, robbery, i think that’s it…

yes, i am discontinuing this… just felt like posting what i’m satisfied with putting up before calling it quits lolz,,,  i’m not very active in the dsmp/mcyt fandom rn so the inspiration is gone really! sorry for those who were following this <3

|—————|

THE DRIVE TO Sapnap’s place is awfully silent. It’s suffocating you how much you want to ask the android sitting beside you a bombardment of questions but you knew if you got started, the conversation would last all night long. 

As it is just after rush hour, the drive to Sapnap’s is full of traffic but the sky is getting darker slowly but surely. The city lights were now starting to turn on, shining on the reflection of passing window panes and battling with the sunset for your attention. 

Clay’s fixated gaze on the road allows you to study him further. He’s quite different from the only other RK you’ve seen with your own eyes last year. 

His name was Connor and you had talked to him a total of zero times so you had nothing to base the kid off of. He certainly looks different to the older model, with sharp green eyes that remind you of young evergreen. Lighter hair as well, almost the color of coffee. Freckles dot his cheeks and nose, lips set in a blank line. 

He seems so soft— more kind-looking— than Connor in terms of appearance but surely that wasn’t the only reason they made a whole new model of RK? He seemed more like a next-door neighbor rather than an assistant detective? The other RKs that were equipped for your comrades were all 900s… 

As you roam his profile once more, the glaring blue light at his right temple disturbs you. It reminds you of Clay’s complacency. Then it hits what they must have wanted to improve in his model— absolute loyalty. A nonexistent chance at deviancy from him. Perhaps that’s why they made him look much kinder as well… so that his looks fly under the radar. 

It feels like a hand is wrapped around your throat because your vocals tighten. You try to clear it out but it just sounds strained. 

It grabs Clay’s attention, his head turning quickly to scan you for any discrepancies. Shaking your head a little, you face ahead once more, eyes zeroing in on the streets. 

“My friend, Sapnap. He’s an android mechanic engineer— has been taking care of androids for a while now. I think you’ll like him.” 

You glance over to Clay, his blue light turning and flashing slowly. “Yes, age 20, male, Caucasian. Dropped out of college start of sophomore year to pursue—” 

“Repairing androids, yes. He had a little benefit to do so when his father had already been teaching him the ropes.” 

Clay notices the way you’re quick to defend and you get embarrassed. 

“Just saying.” 

Clay tucks his lips in and nods. “He seems like a good man.” 

“He is. Will probably get quite mad at me for showing up right now but it’ll be fine.” 

Clay’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Will my presence there bother him?” 

“No, no. You won’t be a bother, trust me. You’re fine, the dude owes me a favor anyway so you’re alright.” You rush to explain. 

Taking the android’s silence as understanding, you relax a little. His mouth opens once more just when you think the conversation is over. 

“Could I ask you something, Sergeant?” 

“Y/N is fine, Clay.” 

“Yes, I apologize.” Clay blinks, continuing on. “Could you explain how progress is going with your current investigation? I’ve read that your last case was eight days ago but the report is quite vague.” 

“Well, uh— yeah I can. Tomorrow, though. I’m a little tired but I’ll fill you in on everything. The port at your desk will have all you need available as well.”

Clay’s eyes blink away at you again. “I know. I have it all in my mind palace already.” 

“I— what? Already?”

“It was one of my upgrades. I was given access immediately after being activated.” Clay informs you and you nod slowly. 

“Right.” You breathe out. 

Sometimes it boggles you that androids can simply store and download information like that in their head. Nothing is ever forgotten. Oh, how easy life would be if you could do that for your job. 

“Perhaps I could get a head start before the workday tomorrow? As you rest at your abode, of course.” Clay gives an easy-going smile. You wish he wasn’t so programmed to be all about work. 

You bite your lip, thinking of another alternative. “How about you learn about the Android Revolution, Clay? You’ll get an idea of why some people are looking into android trafficking in the first place.” 

Clay nods reluctantly. “That sounds like a good idea, Ser— I apologize. Y/N. Thank you.” 

A wry smile plants itself on your lips. “Of course.” 

You pull the car into Sapnap’s driveway. Your headlights must have alerted your friend of a visit since as you both step out of the car, he’s waiting with his front door open. 

Sapnap wipes his hands, which are covered in thirium, onto his black overalls. Clay trails behind you at a respectable distance, his hands crossed together in front of him. 

“Whyare you always bringing them to me?” Sap sighs. You grin, side-hugging him. Clay watches the interaction closely, almost studying you two. 

“Because you’re the front person I think of. You know how full the—”

“Support centers are right now, yada yada,” Sapnap extends a hand towards Clay, leaning towards him, “Name’s Sapnap. And you’re—?” 

“Clay, sir. Nice to meet you.” Clay shakes your friend’s hand gingerly, inclining his head. 

Sap’s eyebrows scrunch, looking over to you. A shrug is how you answer Sapnap’s silent question. 

“You don’t have to call me sir, dude. If anything, they probably designed you to look or be older than me.” Sapnap squints, looking the android up and down. 

Clay nods in understanding. 

“Can I ask what your model is? If you don’t mind, of course.” The darker-haired male of the two inquires. 

“I’m a RK1000.” 

Sap’s eyes widen. “Ah, you’re a prototype! I never knew Cyberlife was ever working on you.” 

“Cyberlife has worked on my model for a long time.” 

Nudging at your friend, Sapnap inches into his house. 

“Oh, sorry! Yeah, come in.” 

Side-stepping past, the warm hallway sends a good shiver down your spine. As per usual, the living room is messy, a bunch of random parts and tools laid on every surface. 

“How would you feel about me hiring a maid for you, Sap?” 

He chuckles, shoving you into the couch sideways. You glare up at him in mock annoyance. “I can get one if I really wanted to, asshole,” Sapnap begins to clean up a little anyway, “Everything is where it needs to be.” 

Humming, you’re unconvinced as you move a whole arm off the seat you were pushed onto. Clay stands awkwardly to the side before you pat beside you. He looks for Sapnap’s approval which the latter grants, belatedly confused.

As your friend enters the kitchen to get you a drink, you side-eye the stiffness in which the android beside you sits. 

“If you’re really uncomfortable with my friend, we can… find someplace else.” You whisper earnestly, which Clay vehemently shakes his head. 

“I’m not uncomfortable, Y/N. Just adjusting to my surroundings. I don’t want to be more of a bother.” 

You scold him lightly. “You’re not a bother, Clay. I don’t mind finding another—”

Clay places a light pressure on the top of your right hand laid in your thigh. It’s meant to be reassuring; perhaps calm your heart but it races your heartbeat higher. You’re not sure why. Maybe it’s his fake heat signature that scares you into believing he’s so life-like— human, of course. 

Androids were a new race… they wereliving. Even if they didn’t breathe and have a heartbeat like you. 

“I trust him, Y/N. No need to worry.” 

Your face twists. “How do you trust him already?” 

Clay spreads the corners of his lips into his cheeks. “Trust is not the right word, I suppose. I know a possible threat when I see one.” 

His words send another shiver down your body, and this time it’s not because of the temperature change. How eerie. You wonder how strong the prototype android is. 

Sapnap enters the living room once more, a bottle of ice-cold beer in his hand. 

You begin to protest but still accept the offer. “I can’t drink this, Sap. I’m driving.” 

“It’s one bottle, relax.” Sapnap drags out, collapsing beside you. He uses the tip of his pointer finger to raise the bottle’s lip to your mouth. 

Shaking your head, you take a small sip and nothing more, placing it on the particularly cluttered coffee table before you. 

“I can’t, I can’t. Thanks though.” 

Leaning your elbows on your knees, you watch Sapnap chug a good half of his own dripping beer easily. He sees the jealousy in your eyes, smirking. 

“Is it because of Mr. Detective, over here? Or are you still on the job? 

You look over to see Clay’s expression, feather-light. “Well, I’m technically always on the job first of all. And I’m not trying to get wasted right about now. I still have mad shit to do.” 

“Do it here.” Sapnap slaps the hand against the cushion behind you. 

Rolling your eyes, you heave as you get up. “No thanks. I got to go.” 

“Afraid you’ll give in to my temptations?” Sapnap waves his bottle playfully. 

Smiling, you yank it out of his hands, proving his point just for the hell of it. Sap’s protest dies on his tongue as you chug the rest of his bottle.

“Damn.” Sapnap whistles as you wipe at your lip. 

Raising an eyebrow, enjoying the burn down your throat, you return the empty glass to your friend. “Happy?” 

“I guess so.” Sap lightly chuckles, looking over to Clay, whose eyes are lasered in on you. You follow your friend’s eyeline. 

Placing a hand on Clay’s shoulder, you squeeze in reassurance. “I’ll be here at 5 tomorrow?” 

“Yes, I’ll be ready.” 

You smile and wave to both of them before swinging the front door back open. 

“Don’t be too harsh on him, yeah?” You direct towards Sapnap. Clay tilts his head like a dog, blue light turning. 

Sapnap waves his hand. “Eh, I’ll try.” 

A chuckle leaves your lips as you leave and head towards your car. Your friend could be a bit intrusive sometimes. Since Clay is a very unknown android model, you have no doubt he’ll have a blast battering Clay down with questions for a while.

|—————|

Just like how you had told Clay you’d be at Sapnap’s at 5 A.M., you came back to the house 5 minutes early the next morning. Not to your surprise, Clay was already standing outside, stock still with his eyes closed on the porch. 

You’re tempted to honk but know it’ll wake the whole neighborhood and Sapnap. That wouldn’t be a pretty sight— cranky Sap glaring deadly your way from his window. 

Settling for rolling down the window instead, you call for the android’s attention. 

Clay is quick to open his eyes, his lips quirked up. “Good morning, Y/N!” 

“Good morning! Last night was fine I hope?” 

“Just fine. I was more than happy to let Sapnap ask me questions.” Clay reassures, climbing into the passenger seat. 

You scoff, shifting gears and reversing. “I have no doubt about that. You got some rest though? I mean, as much rest as you could get as an android?” 

Clay meets your side-eye and smiles wider. “Yes, I got plenty. Thank you.” 

Humming, you drum your fingers against the steering wheel. You let the music on the radio fill the small bit of quiet in the waking sun but Clay doesn’t let it last for long. 

“The debriefing?” He questions and you sit up straighter. 

Nodding, you began, “Yeah, sure. Straight into work I see. So, as you know, the rates for missing androids have been skyrocketing. With so many androids still unregistered and homeless, many fall back with their owners or— what I’m currently tasked on— being stolen off the streets. The case from eight days ago was actually a good lead I got on this illegal trade in Detroit. The old seller of androids, who I’m sure you know the name of, got on our radar after losing his job and has been dealing underground. A good citizen caught him beating a poor android down in plain sight and intervened. We’ve placed a watch on him and are waiting for the reel to come in.” 

Clay nods slowly. “I’m assuming you’ll attain him when you find the seller? This… Steven Bartley?” 

“Well, yes. I’m also looking into infiltrating the trade and finding out who’s running the whole shebang; bring it down from the inside I suppose. I’ve been getting tip-offs like these for a few months and none go anywhere much. I have a good feeling about this dude though— he’s known to not have much of a backbone and might take the opportunity to get down on his years in jail.” 

“That sounds like a smart idea, Sergeant. I’ll be sure to update you real-time if a tip-off for Bartley comes in.” 

“Thank you,” You say genuinely, “I appreciate that.” 

Clay inclines his head, looking back forward again. 

Maybe having an assistant wasn’t that bad. You just wish that Clay was deviant. Was aware of himself and his freedom; his choice. 

Clearing your throat, you figure now is a good time to get this conversation over with. “Clay.” 

He turns your way, his undivided attention on you. It unsettles you slightly. 

“I’m sure you have… extensive knowledge on the Android Revolution.” 

It takes Clay three full seconds to respond. 

“Yes. It sounds like it was a riveting point in history, what happened in Detroit. I was still being tinkered on when the final confrontation occurred.” 

“And… how does it— make you feel?” 

Clay takes a deep breath, eyelashes fluttering as his light turns round and round. “I think… that it’s unfortunate. What happened at the end of it all.” 

The android’s strange phrasing has your head reeling. “And what do you mean by that?” 

“Well, Marcus is a very intelligent machine for his kind. Much more intelligent than usual. And I find it upsetting that the entire revolution shut down so many androids.” 

“Shut down? Not killed? Is that how you think of it?” 

Clay makes his gaze turn your way again, resolute in his opinion now. “Yes, shut down. It seems like a waste, having all those perfectly capable AIs become misled.” 

Your hands clutch the wheel tighter, bewildered by the words coming out of Clay’s mouth. He was an android himself and was speaking of his own kind this way. 

“Mislead…” You whisper out, letting the word linger between you two. 

“Do you not agree, Y/N?” 

Whipping your head to assess Clay’s expression, you reason it’s all genuine confusion— open-mindedness, one could say. 

Breathlessly chuckling, you vehemently shake your head. “I-I… No, I don’t agree with you Clay.” 

The android beside you is silent, inviting you to continue and you do. 

“Clay, they had… muchreason to start fighting back. Thousandsof cases of mistreatment were being reported everywhere but nothing was done about it. Don’t you find it strange, how truly livingyour kind is? How you all possess human emotions, fears, and behaviors?” 

“We weren’t created for the purpose of becoming living, Y/N. Although yes— warranted, androids were being mistreated—humans had invented us for the purpose of invention. Of invention to aid human society.” 

“And what do we do with the fact we’ve also designed you all to be so human-like then?” 

Clay takes a second to register your question. “Humans like to see similar beings— naturally like to be looking in mirrors.” 

“We actually don’tlike doing that— at least not in the way you’re suggesting. When fellow people imitate our actions; try to transform into another version of us, we become angry. We are all the most importantthings in our lives. Why design our machines to integrate into our society, then treat them like trash when they begin to act, no— mirrorthe way we do as living beings?” 

The android becomes quiet, taking in your point. At least, you think so until Clay’s light becomes a flashing red, sharply blinking.

“Clay?” You concerningly ask, wanting to know what was going on with him. 

“There’s a robbery on Park Avenue, Sergeant. Shall we assist?” There’s that irritatinghead tilt again. 

It just proved your point further really. Why did Cyberlife add such human-like tendencies, if not for the purpose of them passing the Turing Test? 

Just when Clay begins to wait for your answer, the police radio is brought to life. “Reporting a 1200 on 538 Park Ave. Sergeant, are you available?” 

You report back quickly, flicking your lights and sound on, “Yep, 10-3.”

“We have a male suspect, Caucasian, around 6’2. Wearing a green hoodie, potential 5201. He’s trapped in the bank, only two civilians in direct danger.” 

“Streets blocked off?” 

“Yes, ma’am. Getting worked on right now. We got multiple cops on sight. Need more authority and you’re the closest, Sergeant.” 

“Status on civilians?” 

“Trapped in the bank, ma’am.” 

“Put negotiations on speed-dial for me please.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Turning sharply on Park Ave, you pass through the boys setting up blocks, about half-way done. Not used to having a partner, you put Clay on the back-burner, hopping out to access the situation. 

The corner bank was surrounded, almost all eyes and hand guns directed on the windows and doors. The building was shabby; it’s not that much of a surprise someone tried this bank. It wasn’t exactly in the best neighborhood in Detroit. 

Catching a head of fluffy brown hair in your peripheral, you turn to see it, lips automatically quirking up. 

Skipping over, you slap a hand to George’s shoulder, who whips around to look at you instantly. 

“New report, Corporal?” 

The older coworker, although seemingly younger in looks, rolls his dark eyes. “None. Dude is panicking. We got no eyes, the cams and security are outdated.” 

“No security was in?” 

George puffs his cheeks, looking down at a blueprint of the bank that was on a tablet. “Nope.” 

“Update on weapons?” 

“None.” 

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair. 

“How’d the talk go?” 

George can’t help the sarcastic smile that slips on at your question. “I don’t know, Sergeant, you tell me.” 

A little laugh falls from your lips, even though it was not the best situation for you to do it. “You’re right. No wonder they fucking called me in here. You’re shit.” 

Dodging your friend’s elbow smoothly, you wave for a megaphone and it’s placed in your hands in ten seconds. 

“Have a name for this guy yet?” 

George cocks his head to a police officer in the corner, who straightens up. “What is it again?” 

The officer chirps, “His name is Sam, Sergeant.” 

“Demands?” 

“Just a getaway car, ma’am.” 

You place your mouth to the voice amplifier. “Sam? This is Sergeant Y/N L/N of the Detroit Police Department. Are you willing to make a deal with me, Sam?” 

A moment passes by and it’s dead silent. Boots clack on cement and George watches Clay approach from your car, bewildered at your new partner. 

“Who are you?” George whispers. 

“My name is Clay, sir. I am an android sent by Police Commander Perez to aid Sergeant Y/N here.” 

“…Huh.” 

You start up again. “Sam? Let’s start cooperating now. It’s only gonna be worse from here if you don’t.” 

More silence. 

“Can we get a sign that those two innocent people are alive, Sam? Can we get that, please?” 

You’re about to speak up again but get interrupted by a booming voice, pretty loud considering you’re the one with a megaphone. 

“I want the damn car! That’s all I fucking want!” 

Giving a tired look to George, you shake your head. “Let’s compromise first, yeah? Can I see those two civilians first? Give me just that and I’ll get working on that car for you, Sam.” 

“I don’t wanna hurtthem, alright? I just want out of here!” 

“Alright Sam. I got it. Those two people please?” 

You didn’t expect the blinds of the bank to be opened so fast. It’s revealed, a cowering of two bank accountants on the carpet floor, for about a second before they’re yanked shut again. 

“You see where the string was from? I think—”

George shakes his head, brows furrowed. “The right of the window I believe. Could have been the left though—”

“It’s the right wall, Sergeant. There looks to be no major body heat signature though. He’s pressed against the wall to the right of the window. There seems to be a gun pointed towards the civilians.” 

Your mouth drops a little, completely forgetting you had an entire very advanced prototype android beside you. 

George is obviously dying to scold your machine partner for withholding his usefulness until now but instead, confirms the weapon report to headquarters. 

“You’re meaning to say Sam is an android? They’re in the record as a human—”

Clay corrects George so calmly, you can tell it irks him. “Yes, he must have outdone the system, Corporal.”

“So what? They’re alive! I’ve shownyou them! Give me my fuckingcar, I want out of here!” Sam screams, voice straining the effort. 

“Alright, Sam. I want you to reason with me here. Where are you going to go from here?” 

“I don’t fucking care, I want out!Out!” 

“If you hand yourself in now, Sam, the judge will consider that. Everything will be considered. They’ll look at your cooperation and your willingness to let go of those hostages, Sam. You can cut down on your—”

Clay grabs your forearm tightly, shouting suddenly, “DOWN!” 

A gunshot rings out, going straight through the weak plaster wall of the bank. It sinks into one of the police car’s tires, the car slowly leaning on that one side. 

“Shit…” You swear, slightly lowering the gun you had instinctively pulled out your holster. 

“Call in a negotiator please.” You mumble to George, not wanting to risk anything worse happening.

He nods, pressing on the radio attached to his right shoulder when Clay bumps in, halting George’s movements. 

“No need, Sergeant. I’m a certified crisis negotiator. I can do it.” 

Clay stares right into your eyes, hoping to get your approval. You only hesitate for a few seconds, giving in quite easily. 

Handing over your megaphone gingerly, you wave for Clay to take your place. When George throws up his shoulders in confusion, you give him a strange look.

“Sam, my name is Clay. I’m an android working with the Detroit Police Department. Are you alright in there, Sam?” 

“W-What… what?” The robber calls from the bank, confused, “You’re an android?” 

+ this does NOT contain smut, just inappropriate jokes :p

scenario:

you’d seen a trend going around on tiktok with couples filming themselves with one always being horny, and the other always sleepy, and you thought it’d be fun to do with your boyfriend. of course without him knowing.

you whip out your phone and start recording yourself on tiktok, forming your hand into a gun-shape and pointing in front of you. and with a lot of pleading you made your boyfriend do the same. you edit the video with text claiming who’s the “sleepy” and “horny” one, and finally go to show your boyfriend to see his reaction of the end result…

♡ dream ♡:

• he watches intently and with furrowed brows, not knowing what to expect this time
• when it ends he rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face
• “the scratches on my back say otherwise”
  
• wheezes when you go to smack his arm

♡ george ♡:

• honestly, george already knows it’s gonna be something stupid just from the way you excitedly handed your phone to him
  
• he starts ranting about how dumb and inaccurate it is
• “I don’t even sleep that much!”
  

♡ sapnap ♡:

• starts laughing so much that his eyes crinkle at the edges
  
• “I know damn well that you’re not talking about me!”
  
• starts teasing you by saying that you’realways the horny one and pokes at your sides

♡ badboyhalo ♡:

• he is so shocked that you’d make a video like this
  
• audibly gasps and starts profusely yelling at you while you’re dying from laughter
• “Y/N, WHAT THE MUFFIN!”
  

♡ technoblade ♡:

• “HEH?!”
  
• sits there in shame and shakes his head at you in silence
• “what has this app done to you.”
  

♡ wilbur soot ♡: 

• is excited about what you’d been editing and kisses your cheek sweetly
  
• but when the video’s over he’s staring you dead in the eye, shocked
• “I did not expect this from you, y/n.”
  

♡ karl jacobs ♡:

• shoots you a wild look and starts laughing 
• “what? what, y/n, what? what was that?”
  
• threatens you with tickles

♡ skeppy ♡:

• the video immediately cracks him up because of how cute you looked
  
• rewatches it over and over again as he continues laughing
• “I can’t believe you made me do this.”
  

♡ fundy ♡:

• at this point he’s so used to all the tiktok trends you do together, that he expects just about anything
  
• sighs once the video’s over and looks at you with a serious look on his face, while you’re deviously laughing
• “I’ve lost faith in humanity.”
  

♡ quackity ♡:

• “what’s this then?”
  
• grabs your phone out of your hands and laughs at the video he just watched
• asks you to send it to him and sees it as a cinematic masterpiece

♡ punz ♡:

• has definitely already seen this trend going around on his own fyp, but not this specific one
  
• is startled and watches it one more time to make sure he read it right
• “that’s bullshit! you’re the horny one.”
  
• “andyou’re the sleepy one???”
  

♡ awesamdude ♡:

• thinks it’s cute that you’d make a video with him
  
• - until he sees the video
• he lowkey likes it cause he thinks it’s funny, but he also wants to tease you by acting disappointed

♡ foolish ♡:

• is giggling even before you press play
  
• and then when he watches it to the end he’s giggling even more
• “what even is this?”
  

____________________________________

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