Summary: Despite the noise and chaos Charlie always finds a way to make the night disgustingly sweet
Word count ≈ 1k
Pairing: Slimecicle / gn!reader
Warnings: none
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Busied by the running water you failed to notice the silence that had overtaken the streaming room. The same room that was a mess of screaming, singing, and at least one object falling over a few minutes prior. Though not in the slightest bit annoying, you learned to love how fun it sounds in there.
Half an hour ago, while Charlie was still streaming you felt you were too bored to sit around, and way too full of energy to head to bed, so, you decided it’s finally time to try that skincare that's been sitting in a drawer for at least a month.
Three different serums and a face mask later you leaned over the counter to wash it off, as the instructions advised to only leave it on for 15 minutes, instructions that would've been followed if it wasn't for the most hypnotizing of handheld devices.
The door swings open, and a cheery Charlie marches up behind you, waiting for you to finish washing your face. His arms immediately envelop your waist the second you straighten up. A wide grin plastered on his face, and you smiled back at him in the mirror.
“What were you doing?” his head nearing closer to you, chin resting on your shoulder, “and how come you’re doing it without me :( ?” He pouted at you, the corners of his mouth turning further once you started laughing at him.
“I was bored,” you began, honestly, “and I wanted to try these,” you motioned towards the array of products sprawled all around, “aaand you were busy with work!” You flashed him a grin and went off to dry your face, but quicker than you pulled away you were pulled right back in, that same pout on his face, “Don’t you wanna do another one? With me?” he asked.
Laughing again, you turn around in his arms to face him; grabbing the first mask within reach. Something with strawberry and mint, and though it wasn’t expected to do much you still enjoy the pinkish color and delicious smell as you squeeze some directly on his face. His laser focus on your every move is equally adorable and flustering as you slather the gel evenly, making sure to tap his nose as a finishing touch, locking eyes the second your hand is out of the way. Even with all that goo around his face, you notice how he’s still so breathtaking, a wave of realization coursing right through you, remembering how much you truly love this boy. Usually, this could be brushed off, but not now, not this time. His intense stare breaks for a split second, glancing at your lips, undoubtedly catching on.
Wasting no time he leans, kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt before, so sweet you could almost taste it, that is, if you weren’t already tasting something much worse. The moment dies once you notice that the mask has somehow ended up in both your mouths, simultaneously pulling away to complain. “Wasn’t this supposed to be strawberry?!?!” he shakes his head, using the back of his hand to wipe it off his lips. The disgust shown on his face fading when he looks at you again, holding in your laughter, cheeks puffed and eyes wide; ready to burst in any second.
The laughter dies down after a solid few minutes, no good reason as to why either of you found it funny in the first place. “Alright, whatever,” he says, still clutching his side, “I don’t want to keep this on any longer. It clearly hates me.” Washing his face and drying it off while you gather all the colorful little packets to be stored inside that same drawer for god knows how much longer. Small droplets graze your skin while you shove everything inside, struggling to close it; looking up once you do, only to find Charlie flicking water at you, laughing to himself as if this was the greatest prank known to man. And no matter how childish you join right in, small sprinkles turn into handfuls of water thrown at each other. Hair and clothes halfway soaked when he tries to put a stop to what he started, grabbing both your wrists just so he could gently push you out the room.
And after an awkward backwards walk into your bedroom he finally let go and went to flop down on the bed, his palm gently patting the spot that's right beside him. Only once you got all cuddled up, the feeling of his wet t-shirt reminded you that you should not be cuddling or even on the bed in that state. Regardless, he didn't seem to mind, already kissing the top of your head mixed with periodic mumbles “I love you” “We're getting the sheets wet”,
“I love you”,
“Come on, get-”, he grabbed your face to kiss your lips, successfully ruining your train of thought, adorned with a stern, yet utterly hilarious expression once he pulled away . “I love you”
during your one year anniversary, quackity plays a song for you.
warnings: use of quackity’s real name, established relationship, fluff, me being obsessed with linger by the cranberries
wc: 1485
when you first met alex, he was shy. he had come up to you first and started a conversation with you, genuinely wanting to get to know you better— that made him attractive.
he was such an interesting character to you— never ceasing to make you laugh even in your worst moods. you fell for him quickly, keeping your feelings concealed until you felt prepared for both acception and rejection.
you didn’t have to wait long, however, because alex confessed to you first. he had taken you out on a date at one of his favorite restaurants, fidgeting with his fingers the entire time.
“alex,” you recall asking, “are you alright?”
the man in front of you sighed, grabbing your hand from across the table, and rubbing his thumb against the back of it. “dude, i like you. like, so much!”
your heart skipped a beat as you turned your hand over, properly holding his now. you could feel the calluses on his fingertips from the endless nights he would play guitar and how the rest of his hand was soft.
“i like you, too.”
you two had been dating for a year now and you both acted like you did when you first met. he would always give you the sweetest gift, never failing to set loose the butterflies in your stomach. you loved how his lips stretched over his teeth, revealing his pretty set of pearly whites.
today was your first anniversary and you wanted to get him something special. sure, your boyfriend would love anything you get him, but you wanted this gift to be perfect.
so what do you do? you start making it from scratch.
you’re not exactly sure what you want to go for– you can’t exactly ask your boyfriend what he wants as a gift. panicking, you rush to the nearest store, hoping to find something that alex would love.
the aisles are a blur to you as you quickly maneuver your way through the store, nearly desperate to find something before you head over to his house. passing through the crafts aisle, you halt as something captures your eye.
there, sparkling like the stars in the sky, was a pack of guitar picks. you swiftly picked them up, tucking them under your arm as you rush to find your next item– necklaces. none of the necklaces were plain; they all had charms on them, but you could work with it.
heading home, you find your screwdriver your parent had given you when you first moved in. carefully, you drilled a hole through the top of the guitar pick and laced one of the necklaces through, ultimately deciding on leaving the charm on.
you made your own matching one, noticing that the charms on the necklaces were the sun and moon. alex’s was the one with the sun, which you thought fit him– he shined brighter than the sun. you put the necklace in a small box and hurried over to alex’s home, a place you had spent countless days and nights at.
the ride was calming; it gave you enough time to think about what you were going to say to him and enough time to prepare you for what he had set up for the evening. parking in the driveway, you shake your jitters off before you knock on the door, the box hidden in your sweater pocket.
your boyfriend opens the door a couple of seconds after you knock, looking at you with such a loving look in his eyes. he opens the door for you, admiring the way you looked tonight. “i haven’t finished cooking yet, i hope you don’t mind.” he confesses, making his way back to the kitchen.
he’s wearing a black button up paired with black jeans, the only color coming from the apron covering his torso. your heart swelled as you watched the way his hair fell over his eyes as he cooked, his hand going back every once in a while to adjust it.
“do you need help?” you offer and he’s immediately shaking his head no.
“nope, i’m cooking for you.” he leaves the food to boil on the stove. “you look nice tonight.”
“you do, too.” you say, pulling on the hair tie you always kept on your wrist. “c’mere.”
he obliges, turning his back to you as you carefully pull his hair away from his face. it’s tucked into a small ponytail on the base of his neck; it tickles him a bit, but at least it’s out of the way.
he finishes cooking a couple of minutes later, carefully preparing the plates before he brings them to the dining table. he had made chilaquiles— one of the things he genuinely knew how to make (aside from everything else he made on his notorious cooking streams).
you two enjoy your dinner, making small talk all throughout the meal. alex looked at you like you put the stars and moon in the sky just for him, and you would’ve cowered under his gaze if he hadn’t smiled that sweet smile.
when you finished, he took both of your plates and gently placed them in the sink. leading you both to his living room, he pulled out his guitar and placed the capo on the second fret, strumming a chord to ensure it sounded right.
“okay,” alex said after softly strumming, “i haven’t mastered this song yet, so don’t laugh.”
you chuckle softly. “no promises.”
alex jokingly flips you off before he starts strumming, his voice joining the ringing when he gets to a measure.
“but i’m in so deep,” he sang and your heart burst into thousands of tiny stars, illuminating the area around you. “you know i’m such a fool for you.”
“you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.” his fingers tremble as he plucks the notes and strums the pattern; he’s trying his best to stay focused so he doesn’t mess up in front of you— god forbid he embarrasses himself in front of you. “do you have to let it linger?”
the brunet stops after the first chorus and looks up at you, half expecting you to laugh at him. he could point out how many times he messed up or almost played a wrong chord but when he looks at you, his worries vanish.
“i don’t think my gift could compare to your’s.” you nervously chuckle, pulling the box out of your sweater pocket.
alex gulps and puts his hands out defensively. “woah, if you want to ask me to marry you, at least do it at disneyland so we can milk ‘aww’s!”
“no, dummy.” you lovingly insult him as you open the box, pulling his necklace out and handing it to him. “i made matching necklaces.”
“shut the fuck up!” he exclaims, excitedly reaching for it. “oh my god, it has a little sun on it! it’s so cute!” he says as he puts it on, watching it dangle from his neck.
before he could ask where yours was, you pull it out from under your sweater, holding it out for him to examine. he holds it gently in the palm of his hand, noticing the small details of your handiwork.
“sol y luna!” his brown eyes light up as they lock with yours. “that’s so us! ¡ay dios mío!”
“i’m guessing you like them?” came your sarcastic reply.
“like them?” his eyes widen as if he’s taken offense. “i love them!”
three words and eight letters leave your mouth before you could even think. “i love you.”
a beat drops between the two of you as you both process what you said. you immediately bring your hands to your mouth, shocked that you had said it first.
“i-i’m so sorry- it’s okay if you don’t say it back, i pro-“ you rush out before his lips cut you off.
alex’s lips are slightly chapped as he kisses you, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. when he pulls away, he looks at you with literal heart eyes. he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world.
“i love you.” he says back, nervously fiddling with his necklace. you stare at him as you let his response marinate in your head.
you kiss him once more, gently wrapping your hands around the base of his neck as you smile into it. you can feel him smile, too, his hands gently resting on your hips.
needless to say, the rest of your night was spent pressing kisses to each other and repeating those three words like a mantra. oh, and alex played you more songs on his guitar, carefully using his new necklace to strum.
hii! idk if your request rules but i love the sapnap writing could you write something more domestic? like maybe breakfast with him?
hi anon!!! tysm >_< here's smth short nd sweet bc im sleep deprived and cant Not think about it
Warnings: One singular curse word (proceed with caution)
Word count: at least 3
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“Ah shit!” Lovely words to wake up to.
There was a loud clang somewhere on the other side of the house, and an even louder string of curses from a fairly known voice. The smell didn’t hit you until halfway down the hall, the stench of burnt toast, burnt cheese, and honestly, possibly burnt skin. He wasn’t usually that bad at cooking, but the sudden realization that he had somehow managed to severely burn a simple grilled cheese had you second-guess everything you knew about him. That, and the laughter that followed mere seconds later.
There was nothing he could do, standing in the kitchen with a charred brick sliding around the pan, well aware this was the one instance where instead of with him, you were now laughing at him. Head hung in defeat, he slowly began cleaning up his mess, pouting like a little kid. “You’re so adorable,” you began, walking up behind him, “but such an idiot.” His head whipped around, rolling his eyes at you before he dumped the so-called breakfast in the trash, leaving the pan he had been using to soak in the sink.
“I hate breakfast.” Barely audible as his face buried in your neck, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, seeking some comfort. You laughed again, softly combing through his hair with your fingers. “You know you’re gonna have to wash tha-” “UGHHH” another muffled complaint was followed by a tight squeeze, bringing you closer. “Can you do it for me?” he asked so sincerely, not daring to lift his head up to meet your eyes. “Maybe later.”
He smiled in your hair, pressing gentle kisses all along your neck, thankful to have you rid him of one mild inconvenience. It felt oddly peaceful standing in the kitchen with him, even if the smell could probably be sensed 2 blocks away, it didn’t exactly matter, what mattered was his arms around you and the thought he put in. And though ordering breakfast might’ve been the last thing he expected to do, the sun-filled dining room walls looked just as inviting, as long as you were with him.
“Hey” his voice rang through the room, hushed and hazy, harmonizing with the creak of your newly opened bedroom door. Your eyes immediately search for the clock, bright red digits flashing back at you, 2:37 AM. “Hi?” you retorted, voice still caught up in a dream state. Energy surged through the room with his upbeat tone, surprising for the very commonly known chill guy. “Wanna come with me for a drive?” he was hopeful, excited to even ask to have you with him, and even though you felt the warmth of the sheets beneath you tug at your tired mind, you couldn’t help but agree. “Sure, where?” “Anywhere, I don’t really have a plan…” Leaning forward you smiled at his antics, pushing your body fully off the bed in order to join him, jacket in hand.
He held the door, hand on the frame, guarding your head against any possible injuries from the hard metal, softly closing behind you. Circling the front bumper, he ran around the car to the driver's side, taking his seat before he turned to you, reaching right across your shoulders. A simple gest, really, but one that would solidify in your mind like a freshly scratched record, replaying the way his hand grazed against you as he pulled your seatbelt across your body, securing it gently. Your body blazing in a trail his knuckles softly passed.
Quickly, he started up the car, not wasting time, though not much could be wasted at nearly three in the morning. And so it went, you watched the street lights flicker right above, casting shadows on your arms draped idly out the window, feeling the air weave through your fingers. Stopping at a red light he took the sensation away, pulling your body in now that it was gone, leaning back into your seat instead; automatically turning your head to look at him, maybe, more admire than look, yes, to admire him, unaware of how piercing your gaze had become. He felt your eyes on him, a familiar nervousness returning to his system as he turned to meet them, greeted by your smile which only seemed to worsen the color creeping up his face.
“What?” he asked, almost choking on the cliche. You felt it too, a sudden urge to react at how laughable the situation truly was. But you had no better answer, so you let it play out.
“Nothing.” Upon your uttering, there was an immediate burst of laughter, both of you agreeing on the absurdity.
Whether it was the moment or the sleep deprivation, you found yourself speaking once again, “This is definitely your good side.” And though spoken through a quiet giggle, you hoped he knew you weren’t really kidding. Hard to tell when the boy beside you only shook his head, silently continuing your drive, the lights finally freeing you from their truth-serum prison. There was a change of pace this time, instead of his usual driving, you were met with a much stronger surge forth, your back pressed against the cushion of the passenger side, speeding down the highway unexpectedly.
He didn’t exactly do it on purpose, barely even noticing the way his foot pressed down on the pedal, not paying much attention, over-focused on your words, and the heat burning up his cheeks; thankful for the dim lights. Allowing your head to fall to the side, you looked over at him once again, now through the big mess of hair flying all around your face, only catching whatever glimpse you could get before the air spun around you, covering your eyes. He kept the windows down, his hair flowing back, though unlike yours, his was fine-tuned, waving through slowly, every light passed sent rays down, illuminating the very outline of his hair, a golden halo forming with each.
It wasn’t long before he stopped again, pulling in a lookout, right off the road. There was a thick silence wrapped around you both, dancing on the line between comforting and awkward, not the most desired of responses, but it put you at ease knowing he didn’t mind. A fact you’ve observed a while back, back when you started to develop your feelings for him, he was okay with almost anything you said, never once rejecting your praise.
Your thoughts interrupted by the sudden flash of light right above you, signaling the door opened. He traced the confusion on your face for a split second, amused.
“Come on!”
Stepping out you watched him lean back on the hood, observing the stars above. Noticing your presence, he turned to face you instead, that same soft look he always gave you, just you. His arm stretched out, motioning you closer, and you fell right in, his shoulder right against your cheek. One look, not much, but it said enough.
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an: sorry this feels unfinished I've had this google doc open since july I had to get it out of my system
Summary: Techno lost a fight, he has to make it up to his pride for letting you see him like that.
Word count: 1.3k
Pairing: c!Technoblade / gn!reader
Warnings: mentions of blood
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The floor whined painfully, every step paced by was wearing down the glossy varnish.
Four hours, it had been four hours past the time he was supposed to be back, and the sinking feeling in your stomach seemed to sink you further down the hardwood beneath your feet, quiet footsteps slowly turned into a quick, worried pace, stomping down your heel harder with every passing thought. You tried sitting down, taking down the clock, every distraction under your roof, and each time without fail, it would only take a few minutes before you began to circle the entire room in a worried haze.
After an eternity of spiraling in and out of paranoia, the door finally swung open, your head turning with inhuman speed, half expecting Phil to burst in and confirm every fear you’ve created for yourself in the past four hours. But it wasn’t, long, peach pink hair beamed back at you, a brightness in the mess you were about to notice.
As your eyes trailed down his body, the blood stains only grew in size, a thick red coat on both his hands and a matching blemish on his chest, beneath his now torn-up shirt. His breathing was frantic, eyes widened at your presence, and maybe losing battles hurt his ego, but nothing could compare to how he scathed at the sight of you.
Racing against him as he took a step back, about to turn and exit, hide until he's well and pretend you never saw him wounded; you pushed past him, the dark wood unforgiving once you jumped to slam your back up to it, painfully but effectively closing the door you had been willing to be open the entire afternoon. Head-turning to the side, his eyes sent a deathly stare your way for a moment before they followed the motion, scanning the surroundings he's witnessed at least a million times.
You scoffed at his behavior, not only was he hurt, he was being arrogant too, tension thicker than the crimson still spilling through his grip. “What the hell happened?” you took a step forward, but slow like the ones you’d take near a dangerous animal, as to not set them off, not wanting to set him off either. Physically, the man supposed to be the bigger person was now sulking back, avoiding the direct eye contact you were trying so hard to establish, to get him to speak about how he got to this state.
Minutes passed like hours as you waited for a response from him, only for him to sound a quick “Lost.” followed by a shrug, unclear if he meant to shrug at the self explanatory wounds, or to shake off the defeat. “Lost?” dragged out and mumbled you acknowledge his hesitation, urging him to speak to you. And yet he caught no hints, shoulders raised and eyes wide he shook his head at you, signaling a loss of words. “Right,” growing impatient you spoke again, determined to at least help the man before you, no matter how capable he might be, “take a seat,” you gestured to the couch, careful not to leave the doorway before it was safely out of his reach.
He sat down, quiet and avoidant, yet he leaned in your touch like it was the last. You slipped the cape back first, examining his back for any further injury, relieved at the blank white woven cashmere. A nervous tap emerged from below, his knee bouncing in a worried rhythm, heightening the stress of the situation in an almost taunting manner. Your brows furrowed at the action, in a frantic attempt to decipher the attitude he was having with you. “Take this off.” tugging at the shirt, and yet again met with a silent compliant Technoblade.
Once you had the space to assess the damage, a warm, damp cloth cleaned up the seeping blood down the left side of his ribcage, alongside some splatter here and there. The next step was disinfection, only if you got the deep gash to halt the rapid flow, coming to the only viable momentary solution. He got a warning first, partially still asking for permission to hurt him further in the name of remedy, “I need to stop your bleeding.” you already had the folded material on him, hesitating to press it down, doubt fading once he nodded, adjusting in his seat.
As soon as pressure pushed against his wound, his body jolted, wincing for a split second, but he refused to let it show, a slow, noticeably shaky breath exhaled instead. You heard it, guilty conscience tightening its hold on your guts, pulling you away from him. Your hands hovered patiently, waiting for his pain to subside so you could continue the work. He seemed unfazed, looking straight up at you, what was once a sharp glare softened to a frightened, almost disappointed look, something inside him wished he didn’t flinch, but alas. Sparks set off where your hands had been, skin burning for more, cooled down by the missing warmth of your touch against it.
“Sorry.”
He nodded again, not breaking his silence. Despite his best efforts to stay in line, and keep the stoic act up, the thump against his chest seemed to quicken with every gentle move you made.
There was a warmth he couldn’t decipher, almost melting him inside, at least that’s what he felt, your fingers left indents on his heart like silver on ice. What he didn’t quite catch was your own flustered shake, slightly twitching as you swiped alcohol-soaked cotton across his flaming skin. He never showed any further reactions, only tightening his jaw every once in a while, unnoticeable to any other, tell-tale sign he was silently taking it all to keep whatever part of his dignity he felt necessary.
While you finished pinning down the bandage you wrapped he pulled his hips back, sitting straight, eyes focused on the way you carefully puppeteered the thin metal between the tight netting. In a moment of pride, you shot up quickly, standing up from your previous crouch just a little too fast, your vision closing in before you could admire the work you spent so long on. In the split second your brain looped you out of reality, your body found itself losing balance, falling forward and into the well-prepared hands of the man who had just minutes ago put his pain in yours. His forearms pulled you toward him, sitting back down, his hands floating parallel to your lower back, the heat his hands exuded pinpointing their location for you.
Once the static lifted off your vision you realized what had happened, looking down at the way your legs stretched across his lap, and though it’s never happened before, you found yourself comfortable in his embrace. He gulped hard, the sound catching your attention “You alright?” the signature egotistical smize had returned to his face, already glowing at the fact he got to save you too.
You smiled at him, well aware of his recovered honor, only nodding at him as he had done to you. Beginning to stand up, and away from his hold, you tried your luck in getting away from him. But he wouldn’t let you get to freedom so easily, pulling you back down instantly, which got him a huff and side eye from you, enough to keep him entertained. “Let’s sit a while hm?” his touch now finally present where it was supposed to be, his thumb moved back and forth soothingly, a subconscious effort to win you over. Considering it was the first compound sentence he had said to you in a long while, you gave in without a second thought, nestling in his shoulder, closest to his neck.
It wasn’t long until you felt his jaw press against the crown of your head, the weight of his comforting you further. “Thank you, by the way.” his voice hummed against your hair, you kept your silence going, accepting his gratitude with a content sigh, savoring the time you spent like that.
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a/n: this is a wip that's been in the works for a while, I couldn’t bring myself to finish it in these past few weeks, but it’s done now, enjoy!!
I've already seen some artists and writers saying they will stop drawing Technoblade and not write about him now to respect him.
Don't.
This is how you not forget people. We, the community, are Technoblade's legacy. We are here to make sure he is never forgotten and to show our love for him.
Of course you should take a break when it's too much right now. But please don't stop drawing fanart of him. Don't stop writing about C!Technoblade. Don't stop writing sbi stories like passerine. (Unless the other sbi-members say they will uncomfortable about this now)
I am sure Technoblade loved this about us, he liked the fanart you all drew of him, his characters, his friends. I am sure he loved knowing what awesome stories people wrote about the Blood God who never dies.
We are the voices and we are here to make sure this legend will be remembered.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” his jaw tensed up, hiding his disgust, he had a story to sell and no plan to fail. “No,” you smirked, pushing your luck, your taunting stare burned into his eyes, “you haven’t, tell me about it.” He paused, to anyone who didn’t know any better he looked unphased, but you saw the shock in his eyes, so sharp he could kill you right there, but passed quickly, at least quicker than his following words, “ I cannot.” The room lit up, laughter flared from every corner, and every unsuspecting victim mistook his words for friendly banter, remembering his nature, keen on his deep sarcasm.
The mission was clear, you were paired up with Technoblade, well known for his competence, and highly skilled in many things, especially assassination. He was the only one up for it, immediately jumping at the idea of putting all his enemies in their well-deserved grave, what he didn’t know was the plus one he’d have to bring when attending the function.
A soiree, dress coded strictly, putting you in a ballgown, not the most efficient attire when it came to hiding weapons, the heavy red velvet piled on top of the both of you, your flowing floor-length dress and his cape to match, the weight only added to the disadvantage. However, though far from practical, the outfits did paint the perfect picture, pushing your courted appearance above actual couples in the room.
You shifted your weight as the laughter died down, leaning your shoulder against his, your chin resting right above your collarbones as you smiled at him, shifting your eyes toward the hall, quickly signing for a meeting. He stood up, excusing you both as he took your hand in his, walking slowly, showing no signs of his intentions, completely calm and confident in his stride. Conversation continued at the comically long dining table as you stood up and followed him, voices fading the further you strayed.
Pulling him into a corner you sighed, the stress already shaking you up, yet he seemed to be going strong. “When do you need to go?” you asked, ready to hear the plan over one more time, making sure you aren’t capable of screwing things up. “I’ll go now, you make up something to tell them, I’ll plant the TNT, start the timer, and come back, just make sure everyone is distracted, okay?” he stated, not missing a beat, his brows furrowing the longer he waited for your response, “Alright,” you nodded, about to speak again, but he stole your words, “I know you like fighting better, but there’s no way we could show up with armor and weapons drawn here, just go along with it once.” his words were quick, eyes already shifting for the fastest route to take, you turned your head away from him, eyebrows raising momentarily, showing your concern with the whole situation, “We’ll make it out in time,” he spoke up again, already turning to leave, “don’t worry, and don’t blow our cover.” his footsteps quickly getting quieter.
Walking back you rehearsed your words, desperately searching for an excuse, but your thoughts were interrupted, questions about his sudden disappearance already thrown your way “He’s in the bathroom,” you blurted, the worst one you could’ve come up with, thankful there were multiple scattered around the property so if anyone was determined to find him they’d spend a good while searching, keeping you safe for some time. Heads nodded in understanding, and the discussion continued with no further concern for a while, about twenty minutes before you were doubted again, your heart racing as you stood up, face twisting in a fake frown, “I’ll go check up on him,” your hands came together to fidget with the top rail of your chair as you pushed it forward to the table “he should be back by now,” the statement only partially made up as he had to have something in the way to take that long.
Walking the corridors was different when you were alone, everything suddenly seemed so dark, closing in on every corner in your vision, speeding up your pace, a final push to find him before anyone else does. The time seemed long and drawn out, a couple of minutes took hours to pass as you walked up and down every stairway, opening every door to try and see if he was around. Luck smiled your way at the end of what looked like a hidden staff tunnel, the door opened in front of you, a moment of panic taking over before you saw his famous pink hair, pieces falling on his face right above his scars, pushed in place by the crown sitting heavy on his head. The tall man jumped back, startled by you just as much as he startled you, quickly grabbing your forearm, dragging the both of you out of the forbidden ground. “Why are you here?” his voice was hushed, angry yet quiet, breath heavy as he basically ran back to safety.
He let go of you just in time, instead stretching his hand out in front of your body, putting a finger up to his lips to stop any questions. Footsteps echoed your way, careful and quiet, yet still audibly closing in on you, he nodded at you, hoping you play along with his next move. “You didn’t have to worry baby,” his voice echoed louder than the walking as you turned the corner, you held back a scoff at his words, going with the conversation as you passed by Dream, seemingly headed for the bathroom, or at least you only guessed, no clue to where it actually was. Too scared of anyone else you kept a pleasant small talk going, no harsh remarks that could give you away but no overly informational planning either. All eyes were on you both upon your return, the short walk from the doorway to your seats excruciatingly awkward, the silence only adding to the discomfort.
Clearing your throat you took a step toward your seat, the pink-haired male already reaching for your chair, pulling it out then going to his, all four legs scraping against the floor while he pulled it closer to yours, leaving an inch or two between them before he sat down. His arm reached for you, hovering above your thigh, heartbeat quickly ascending to the base of your throat, bringing heat to your cheeks. “Lift my sleeve.” his voice came in a whisper, directly in your ear, his breath ghosting past your neck, into your hair. You obliged, pulling it up just enough to see what he was hiding, uncovering the timer strapped to his wrist for a second, quickly pulling the fabric down, afraid someone else might see, you lifted your head back up, now looking at his smiling face, passing off the moment as a romantic gesture for the rest to digest. Straightening up, he went right back to his food, ignoring the vicious thump against his chest, unwilling to admit to his strange feelings for you, who he once called a rival, now a fake date to a team operation.
The music changed, a fast tango urged on by the melody. He pulled up his sleeve again, eyes widening at the widget on his wrist, caught off guard by the surprisingly short amount of time you two had before you needed to make your escape, tuning it to end at least 10 seconds early giving just enough time to avoid the detonated explosives below your feet. Standing up quickly he kept a firm hand on the wrist with the time, smoothing the sleeve over before he kneeled down, extending out his palm for you to take. “Care for a dance?” his voice laced a charm too convincing, the same heat from before returning in your body. “Sure.” you returned the smooth tone, taking the opportunity to talk to him.
Every head was turned toward you, nobody else dared to step up on the dancefloor, piling on the pressure. A firm hand was placed on your waist, pressing you close against his chest, you both leaned in close, faces lacking distance, he took the lead, taking you in circles around the space, only talking at the times you were furthest away from the table. “There’s not much time left.” he said, quickly shuffling back to where you could be heard, the silence fell again shortly.
Once you reached the distance point again, he spoke up, “I’ll tell you when, you just run, I’ll meet you at these coordinates.” he pointed your interlocked arms down, catching a paper falling from his sleeve in your linked hold, pressing it against your palm. You pulled your fingers out the space between his, clutching the item in an closed fist, his hand enclosed over your knuckles, bringing the dance to a slow, dipping your body down, you gripped the fabric right below his collar.
“Ready?” his voice quiet, never once wavering despite the distraction, “born,” your response was brief, the sound strained through your teeth, tightly pressed together, creating the illusion of an innocent smile, one without any hidden intentions.
“Run!” he whispered, not even a second after your response, arms immediately dropping your sides, you knew he meant every man for himself.
At least, he wanted to, his body flew forward, every step faster than the previous, but his heart was pulling him against the effort, his mind stuck on the moment you were no longer in his hold.
You ran behind him, still following his lead despite the harsh farewell. But he saw no issues with it, barely noticing while his head clouded, the itch to put your safety first kept poking at his gut, the anxious feeling spreading up toward his chest.
While you ran down the front entrance steps the explosions began to sound off, the shockwave pushing your forward ever so slightly, speeding down the marbled surface, still chasing after your companion. Panic rose in the building once you stared running, reaction far too late to save the rest, getting no headstart to the chase. He whipped his head back in the midst of all the chaos, eyes quickly scanned the building up in smoke, searching for you, but he didn’t need to look far, your path only straying from his once you had the time to read the paper, heading for the predetermined location, you assumed he had something to take care of before joining you, setting off by yourself. His gaze followed your figure, speeding off away from him, he felt a bit relieved, glad you were at least alive, yet still pulled to chase after you and make sure you’re alright.
Shaking the thoughts from his head he continued on, climbing on a horse he had tied up within a mile or so, speeding down the same route you had taken mere minutes ago. You ran before him, not alone for long, the harsh clack of hooves against the packed dirt below alerted you of his presence, coming in view soon after you stopped running to catch your breath. He slowed down too, jumping down he took the lead on his horse and walked beside you, his lungs still burning just as much as yours did.
“You’re okay?” he panted, words fast and breathy. “Yeah, where were you?” you gestured to the horse, attempting to chuckle but the lack of air only brought you to a cough. In a split second he was at your side, hand on your back, soothing your outburst. After you calmed down he finally felt at ease, nerves settled at the thought of your guaranteed safety, only with you next to him he could get rid of that drowning thought you were somehow in danger when away. “Had to take this guy,” he patted the saddle on the horse, smiling gently, “I couldn’t leave it behind.”
“Oh,” was all you said, tearing your eyes from him and instead pointing your field of view toward the sky, counting the stars above you as you kept your body close to his.
“You know,” the numbers scattered from your head once you heard him speak again. “Hm?” turning to look at him again, you found his sight glued to the horizon, “We should do that more often, like, go on missions together and stuff-” “Oh my god?!” you gasped, pushing him aside with your elbow, “are you asking me out?” a teasing smile spread wide across your face. “HEH?” he turned to look at you, bewildered at your pride. You only laughed, mocking his reaction, everything from the look on his face to the way his neck craned forward. He scoffed playfully, mounting on the saddle again, “Whatever, I’ll see you there”. You watched as he sped off, welcoming the warmth of your fluttering heart, finally at peace with the newfound feeling.
You were supposed to be sleeping, and you had been trying all you could. Counting your breaths and making it to thirteen before getting distracted with thoughts about your work tomorrow.
Work today, as it stood, had been particularly not fun.
And you had resigned yourself to an equally not fun dinner, a poor excuse of a sandwich, and bathed in not-quite-warm water. Inside, you knew you didn't deserve to kind of punish yourself, but you couldn't be bothered to try to comfort yourself either. You just needed to do the things you needed to do.
And sleep was the last thing you had to worry about.
Your boyfriend, in all of his murder-inclined reputation, hadn't even gotten home until the night was well underway. You figured it to be a fair deal.
Your eyes, though closed, heard him wander in your shared home, probably setting his robes and his weapons down on the table or their respective places, it was always a fifty-fifty shot with him, pausing to look at whatever you brought home this time.
(It'd been a book about mushrooms, a lot of the pages that had the mushroom's picture was accompanied by a short poem. You'd tucked it into your bag, a fond smile on your face when you thought about showing it to Techno.)
And when he finally nudged the door open to your bedroom, you still didn't open your eyes, feeling the thud of his feet against the floor, moving from the doorway to the closet. Hearing the clothes being pulled off of his, most likely sweaty or very heated, body and then hearing them be tossed into the hamper by the door. Cloth slides against skin and you hear his bare feet walk across the floor before you feel the dip in the mattress and hear the groan it sounds out while he gets comfortable.
It was nice, feeling his very warm body in the coldest room in the house, a painfully thin sheet covering you gives you little heat. He pulls you into his arms, tucking his chin into your neck and breathing out heavy. "You okay, honey?"
You time your breath with his, breathing deep and feeling yourself melt into him. "Long day."
He hums, and says sorry, offers you a beat of silence to elaborate but when you continue your deep breaths, he presses a kiss to your head, rubbing a large, warm hand over your stomach in wide circles. "Okay," he breathes out, "goodnight then, I got breakfast tomorrow." You smile to the ceiling, and it's the last thing on your mind before you're lured to sleep with promise of rest and warmth, and perhaps your warrior of a boyfriend in the only apron in the house, daisies covering the front.
Tomorrow is going to be better than today. Guaranteed.
The evenings were quiet as usual, there was not much noise around the house, the air still aside from an occasional ring of dishes hitting the rack to dry.
You sat on the counter behind him, watching his back and how it moved with his breathing, muscle tissue flexed with every move his arms made to clean the plates you used for dinner not too long ago. He didn’t mind, feeling his eyes on you made him work better, faster, and the less time he spent on chores the more he could spend with you, trying his best to quickly end his current occupation. Pushing your body up, palms flat on the marbled surface, you slid off the counter, feet landing on the cold floor, your attention averting from your lover to the uncomfortable feeling of the freezing tiles on your bare flesh.
You didn’t notice his eyes on you, too busy with your momentary shock, he had turned to you the moment he noticed you tore your gaze away from him; he laughed at your surprise, blowing his cover as you turned your head toward the noise, immediately catching his eye, rolling yours at the teasing tone in his voice, hiding a smile under your lowered head as you headed toward your room, quickly grabbing a pair of socks from a drawer.
Your return was hurried, your legs bounced off the floor, running right back toward the kitchen, refusing to miss out on any more staring.
He was still there, although his hands worked slower; he didn’t notice your return, letting you know he was somewhere between the thoughts clouding his mind.
Tilting your head you came to a halt, your footsteps now silent as you tiptoed your way to him, in hopes to get your revenge for his previous mocking. Spreading your arms out the closer you got, waiting for the perfect time to go through with your plan. He finally put the dish he was working on away, freeing his hands of any breakable objects; this is when you took your cue to jump on him, wrapping your arms around his back quickly, squeezing to make sure he can’t move.
You realized your chance at taunting him back was gone when he had no reaction to your sudden touch, his breathing kept its pace and his body made no jumps, he stood still, welcoming your touch.
Pressing your cheek against the soft, fitted fabric on his back, bringing him closer, still unhappy with the amount of attention on you. He chuckled at the movement, your hair just long enough to tickle the back of his upper arms.
“What are you doing?” he spoke up, voice loud and playful, your head moving with his body every time his chest rose and fell right back, emptying his lungs of any remaining carbon dioxide.
Pausing for a moment you thought of what to say, needing to come up with a response equally sweet as it was ironic, returning his tone to humor the situation.
“Snugllin’,” you said, and it worked, better than you imagined it would, his voice beamed with laughter, surrounding your head, feeling like you’d won the greatest prize at an arcade.
Your face lit up too, laughing along with him, enjoying the moment.
He was turned around by this point, his body fully parallel to yours, still smiling.
Your arms never left his waist, hands now tugging at the sides of his shirt, urging him to come closer and go back to your previous position. But he didn’t, eyes still searching for yours up until the very moment you looked up at him, smiling at each other like fools as the water kept running behind him.
The peace was short-lived, he jumped forward, the water that was now overflowing had fallen on his shirt, catching him off-guard. He turned around, hands immediately flying to grab the handle of the running faucet, he was seconds too late, the water already falling all around you, spreading rapidly on the tiled floor.
You looked at him, jaw wide open at the incident, backing out the puddle at your feet to grab some towels and help him clean up. He seemed to have the same idea, heading for the same cabinet, grabbing some before you could, laying them out to absorb the water below him.
You crouched down, following his actions, scoffing to yourself. Head snapping your way, he titled it to the side, nodding up to signal he wants to know why you’d done that.
“I tried so hard to scare you and the water was what got you?” you shook your head, faking a pout to sell your disappointment. He clicked his tongue, expressing his disapproval of your words, brushing off the ridicule. “Hush.” “I’m serious literally how d-” your ranting was cut short but yet another, this time drawn out “Hush!”
“Whatever,” you stood up, walking over to the dryer, placing the drenched towel inside, “I’ll get you one day,” waving your finger at his approaching figure.
He was a mere few steps away as your finished your declaration, reaching over you to place his towel in too, shutting the dryer door with one arm, wrapping the other around your waist.
“You talk a lot, you know?” He spun you around, his posture slouched as he brought your faces closer together, the hand on the small of your back pushing you in his direction. Your view briefly landed on his lips before ascending to his eyes, throwing another glimpse down in your best efforts to indicate your wishes. He smirked, catching on to your suggestion, one corner of his lips tugged to the side, eyes mirroring your act.
“Really?” you snuffed out the silence, as you often did, tilting your head up in to the side, leaning into him. Leaning in too, he began to close off the remaining distance.
The loud beep of the machine behind you made you the next victim of surprise, immediately cutting the moment short. You hid your head in his chest, chuckling at the absurdity of the string of events that had taken place.
“REALLY?!” he yelled out in a light-hearted frustration toward the home appliance, entertaining the scene. In reality he was ready to respond to your question, the meaning of the word quickly changing to fit the current environment. Laughter never sized with him, you tapped the back of your hand to his chest, doubling over.
Once the initial shock of everything settled down you calmed as well, taking his hand in yours, away from the kitchen where all accidents seemed to happen. He kept quiet, taking his seat on the couch, pulling your body down with his.
The rest of the night was spent in cuddles on the couch, banter shared all about the previous accidents, a few inside jokes added to your list as the hours flew by, the everlasting moment carved forever in your minds.
Warnings: very light angst, mostly fluff
Pronouns: you/your
Words: 328
Summary: The voices return, but you are there to help Techno
a/n: day 2 of my daily posting for the follower event!
masterlist for the follower event
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Technoblade had distanced himself again. He hated spending time away from you, but it was to keep you safe. Because as torturous as the time away from you was, it was so, so much better than you getting hurt. So when the voices chanted for blood, he gathered his stuff and left the house, not caring that it was cold and dark.
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You awoke to an empty house. Techno’s side of the bed was cold. You walked out into the main area and saw a note on the table.
They’re back.
Your heart broke when you saw how shaky the letters had been written. The voices were back, and they truly were causing him pain.
There was nothing you could do in the moment. He was away, off “trying to keep you safe” by leaving. So instead, you prepared everything for his return.
Humming quietly, you made mushroom stew and baked potatoes. The medical supplies sat on the living room table. You made sure that the food stayed warm, ready for his return.
A few hours later, the front door opened and you looked up from your spot on the couch to see him.
”Techno?” You raced over to him, noting the scratches on his skin, tears in his clothes and the haunted look on his face. You cupped his face in your hands, looking him in the eyes. “Are you okay?”
He shivered and you pulled him close, barely able to hear when he finally spoke.
”They- they’re not gone. And I don’t want to hurt you but-“ His voice broke. “I don’t want to be alone.”
You pulled him closer, smiling when his arms wrapped around you gently. “That’s okay, Tech. I’ll happily stay here with you.”
You guided him to the couch, lying down next to him and pulling the warm blanket over you both.
“Don’t worry about hurting me. I trust you.” Your eyes began to drift closed. “You make me feel safe.”
Belonging is not something you’ve ever understood, the feeling that you’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time never really left, sometimes that same thought would creep up in your life, not often but definitely strong, a brutal reminder of the fact you had no clue what you’re doing.
Right now was one of those times, you were sitting on the floor of Technoblade’s house, the fire crackled in front of you, every pop filled with wrath as it sparked up, a gentle ashy flake falling from every spark.
You stared straight at it, mesmerized by the movement and light, your eyes glossed over in thought as you let the fire soothe your mind, nowhere near finding an answer to your question even if it was burning brighter than the flames before you.
This abstraction burdened your heart, feeling the weight on your chest grow further the deeper you got in thought, it seemed the more you thought the less you knew, a thick fog taking over your head, unable to recognize your surroundings.
He stood in the doorway, watching you for any movement, any sign you were hurt, or sick, afraid something was wrong, you never sat still like that for such a prolonged amount of time, at least not that he knew of, now having to deal with this situation completely new to him.
To you it happened more than you would like, you’d get distracted by that thought, that out-of-place feeling, and it would lock you down, sitting still only thinking for hours at a time.
You’ve been ignoring it this time, but as your week progressed, you found it harder and harder to look the other way, finally confronting it after it’s haunted you for days.
Soft footsteps traveled across the room, he approached slowly, the way one would when holding its hand out to get a cat to trust them, not wanting to scare you; going unnoticed until he popped up in your peripheral.
You saw him out the corner of your eye, the feeling only getting stronger as if it got fueled by his presence; but you pushed it down, looking up at the only man who ever made you feel like you had a rightful place, something to call home, and though he had told you multiple times what was his was also yours, you couldn’t help but feel detached from it all whenever he wasn’t around.
He kept the eye contact going, longer than you anticipated, his stare caught you off guard, turning your head back towards the fire to escape his gaze.
Resting his axe on the floor, he joined you both on the ground, sitting down with a soft thud on the floor, tilting his head to the side as his eyes kept their focus on you.
You looked into his eyes again, a look of concern mixed with curiosity lied within them, and it made your heart race, feeling an overwhelming urge to take him and run, run far until you found the place where you were meant to be.
He shifted his weight, offering a hug, one that you refused, confusing him further.
But you didn’t need physical comfort, you needed him to understand, to agree with you, to willingly follow you around until you found what you were looking for. So you decided to tell him, the need to run away with him stronger than the fear he wouldn’t be wise to your emotions, “Techno I wanna run away.” You blurted, no warning whatsoever.
“WHAT?” he looked bewildered, staring at your face to make sure you weren’t just messing with him.
“Seriously, I don’t know if I’m meant to be here…” you trailed off, doing your best to explain to him why you felt the way you did, but there was no need, he knew what you meant, he himself had noticed how absent you’d become, losing focus every time he mentioned anything to do with the house, your worst fears were denied as he nodded to your words, knowing what it felt like to keep searching for a place where you truly connected with.
He wanted you to experience that, to find yourself, coming to the only rational conclusion he could muster up on a whim, jumping up fast enough to startle you completely, you flinched away from the movement, your roles switched as you became the one confused quite quickly.
Running around the house with you on his tail he gathered a few things in a bag, some food, water, weapons, a compass, a map, and at last, his favorite book. You stood behind him as he packed this all up, mouth open in disbelief as you didn’t think he’d ever actually fully take your idea into consideration.
Finishing everything up he tossed you an empty bag, demanding you bring a blanket or two and some torches for the nights.
You followed his instructions, listening to every piece of advice he had to give you, entirely putting your trust in him that he would protect you with his life no matter the dangers of the outside world.
The two of you ran around quite a bit, the journey had no destination so you took the opportunity to spend some quality time with him, the hours kept passing as you got lost together, letting your heart guide you for once instead of your mind.
A while later you found a nice spread of land, short grass littered with dense groups of daises blossomed far out of view. Glances traveled back and forth between you before your rest spot was decided, he nodded his head in approval and you took your chance, running full speed towards a clearing, laying down with a gratified sigh.
He chased after you, laughing behind you when he saw the way your body dropped down towards the ground, seemingly the only one who noticed the way your eyes were lit up, just happy to see you happy. He laid down too, his head next to yours but his body was facing the other side, if he’d sat any closer your bodies would almost form a straight line.
Two chests panted up and right back down, two hearts beating in harmony, your minds syncing up with the rest of your actions when you both turned your heads towards each other, laughter erupting at the same thought when you saw his face upside down, he evidently found yours funny too.
He was the first to sit up, bringing you up with him, not physically but you felt the need to follow what he did instinctively. Shifting his weight to his hands he brought his body right behind yours, crossing his legs just a few inches away from you, he leaned towards you the same time you leaned back to him, your upper back meeting his collar bones you leaned your head back on his shoulder, your eyes catching the shifting colors in the sky above you.
Hands sneaked up around your waist and you found yourself pulling them closer, manually tightening his grip on you. The silence felt comforting as you watched the night fall together, admiring the slow change when daylight came in scarce.
The wind picked up and the distance between you was insufficient in keeping you warm, shivering against his arms; he noticed this immediately, slowly getting up without a word. You got up too, following around like stray given care while he was gathering supplies, dumping a few dozen sticks in a pile he ordered you to surround it with stones, to help him and to get you something to do so you don’t have to walk around clueless chasing his footsteps.
One thing he learned that night was how hard a fire would be to start without any supplies, finally catching a spark to set everything off, he straightened up backing away from the flame as he admired his work, not forgetting to look your way, making sure you could also see him, feeling a sense of pride rise.
You sat down again, this time facing the blazing heat, your faint shivering subsided at last, and just when you thought the night couldn’t get any warmer you felt his presence near you, an arm slung over your shoulder, the source of this action didn’t miss a beat before he spoke to you, barely seated yet. “Look up.” you turned to him, following the voice before you followed his gaze, seeing where his eyes fell, a beautiful branching line of light fading up in blues and greens.
“Woah,” you meant to say it louder but your words would only move in a whisper, “so pretty”, he turned to you, acknowledging your words, “truly,” he spoke just as quiet as you did as if you feared to scare away the light show.
It seemed a full hour passed by while you watched, only exchanging a few words far and in-between. You kept yawning, a subconscious sign for him to know you needed some rest.
Sitting farther he pulled your head down in his lap, reaching for your bag while you were getting comfortable; throwing a blanket over you. Unexpectedly, his voice ran again, what you could only recognize as a work of fiction being read to you, remembering the frantic packing as he’d scrambled to find it earlier.
The ground was an unforgiving place to sleep, but you didn’t need it to be, finding ease in the gentle narration of his best-loved story. And that's when you got it, his house, your house, any place you’ve ever lived in, that wasn’t home, he was home.
a/n: I wanna thank you all so much for the support lately, we will go right back to Techno brainrot after this little story ^-^ !!
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“What are we going for length-wise?”
The sweet woman stood before you as you sat in your designated salon chair, debating how long you should keep the hair falling on your face, finally ready for a change, something you’ve wanted for a while now.
Your mind kept up a vicious argument against itself, preventing you from making the decision, letting a frown rest on ur face; you turned towards the expert, telling her what you thought,
“ Surprise me, honestly, do what you think will be the most fun for you.”
Her eyes widened, her face immediately lighting up at your proposition, and she proceeded to agree, but not before making sure you’d be alright with it. Of course, you were, if you couldn’t make the decision why not just make someone else do it for you right?
Well…
The chair spun in the mirror but not faster than your head when you saw yourself again, a strange anxiety-induced tunnel vision feeling as you stared at the outcome. You didn’t have the right to be angry, every action had its consequence and you put yourself in this situation. Objectively, nothing wrong happened, the hair wasn’t bad, and nobody would have a negative thought about it at first glance, but of course, that wasn’t what you saw, immediately focused on every single mishap happening on your head right now. It wasn’t what you imagined, the only thing that kept you calm was acknowledging the fact that you wanted to be surprised, not able to fully let it go as it was your fault, how were you to know extra layered hair was the most fun a hairdresser can have.
Immediately switching to a smile you turned your head from side to side a few times, secretly judging it all, at the very least it was the color you wanted.
“What do you think?” she asked, so innocent and hopeful you didn’t have the heart to actually tell her what you truly felt.
“Wow,” your brain was scrambling to complete a sentence that wouldn’t hurt any feelings, you ran a hand through your hair, “I love it, it's so… Unique.” Your teeth clenched within ur smile at your last word, as if to barricade the actual feelings you had towards her work at the moment.
A few last words were said in the time it took to pay for the service and make your way back home. You closed the door to your car slowly, letting out a deep breath, your best attempt to keep your emotions at bay. Slamming your hands on the steering wheel you began your drive, keeping a firm grip on it the whole way home.
The key turned toward your right as you quickly made your way inside the moment you unlocked, taking notice of a few changes since you left. For one, there was an extra pair of vans neatly put away right before the hall, and a colorful sweater accompanied by a pair of keys on the hangers; he was home. Your mood shifted, the previous experience already fading when you thought about the time you had to spend with him, the joy bubbling up in your chest.
The living room was vacant, and the kitchen looked so too, your mind leading your body in various directions around the house before finding any other traces he could’ve left.
You climbed up the stairs, right into the first room you saw, your bedroom, twisting the doorknob to get a peek inside. There he was, seated with his legs crossed over in the very middle of the bed, finishing up a text to whomever he was talking to, waiting for his delayed reaction to you walking in.
He peaked his head up after a minute or so, eyes fully scanning you in the process all the way from the floor and to your hair, your … hair…
It took him a second before he realized, though he immediately noticed he couldn’t put his finger on it to save his life, that was until he remembered where you’d been the entire afternoon, thinking about the note you had left for him right before you left for your appointment, leaving him to walk in on an empty house with no trace of you until he checked the kitchen.
Eyes wide and mouth wide open he shot up from his seat, stumbling forward when his feet hit the floor, racing to close the room-long distance as fast as possible.
“Your hair!!” he shouted, a smile immediately spread across his face, looking at you like a kid who had just opened their Christmas present.
Scoffing at his words you ran a hand through your hair, the last thing you needed was to be made aware of how bad you must look right now. “Yeah,” you said with a frown, your eyes scanned the floor as you tried to shake the conversation off, avoiding all reminders of your unhappy little accident. Catching on with your behavior he immediately dropped the subject, seeing how a question or two might affect you negatively since you didn’t seem to love the new look all that much.
To him, it looked gorgeous, he thought it fit you perfectly but he wasn’t willing to say anything if you yourself didn’t bring it up.
You locked eyes, surging forward and straight into the soft fabric of his shirt, wrapping your arms around him tightly, a deep breath found itself in and out of your lungs. He returned the favor, resting his over your shoulders, you felt a small peck placed on the top of your head.
“You wanna sit down? We can watch something?” he lifted his head off yours, now replaced by his hand softly patting down your hair. You didn’t say anything only nodding a yes against his chest, he took both your hands in his, sitting down, his back against the headboard as the rest of his body fell before him. His arms were wide open, inviting you in, and you accepted, slinging one leg over his torso as your head rested right below his collarbone.
“Do you want to pick anything?” he asked again, receiving a different movement this time, you didn’t feel like making any decisions, hoping at least he would know what you’d like, so your head shook in a quick no, pushing further into him.
He put the remote down, observing you for a moment, trying to see if you’d even notice when he didn’t play anything, the Netflix home screen showcasing a preview of whatever current show was most popular with the viewers. You did, questioning the prolonged silence, lasting longer than the usual loading screen time would, lifting your head up in curiosity, turning toward the TV.
His eyes followed the movement, finally getting you aware of your surroundings, hoping you were now ready to talk to him.
“What are you doing?” you spoke up, the first sentence you had exchanged with him that day.
“Talk to me,” he began, sitting up further to look at you straight on, “I know something’s going on.” his voice sounded concerned, almost apologetic but the lift in his eyebrows let you know he already knew what you would say, only waiting for you to confide in him with it.
You began to detail every single thing that had happened since you left, telling him all about the disaster that followed you once you left the house. He never once interrupted, letting you rant on about how much you hated your afternoon. When you were done he took a minute to process your words, feeling his eyes on you the whole time, but he said nothing, pulling you back down to your previous position, changing the topic to try and help take your mind off all that and only focus on your current state.
Some would say it was dumb, pointless conversation, but to you it was your savior, silently thanking him for trying so hard to cheer you up, talking about anything that came to mind, the chatting built off of every topic, progressing further with no intention to stop, one of the things you loved most about him was the ability to talk for hours no matter the topic.
“You know, I liked that note on the fridge thing, like some messed up game of slenderman.”
He brought up the witty move you pulled on him, finding it quite endearing. But you took notice of his words, deciding to play along with him.
“ Wait are you saying The Fucking Slenderman himself isn’t messed up enough for you?”
You laughed, craning your neck forward you tilted your head at him, an expression of amused disbelief danced across your features delicately.
“ No that’s not-” he paused, cutting himself off, unable to explain why he said what he did, “well …” he paused again, processing what to say next, when a cunning smile spread across his cheeks “he's kinda cute,” he said, at last, shrugging as if to indicate that was common knowledge, waiting for your reaction.
“Karl…” you looked at him, eyes now half-lidded as you held back a smile, trying to hold off on showing him he won. But to no avail, he noticed, laughing at your confusion as you shook your head at him, laughing along at the lengths he would go to make you laugh.
The rest of the evening was spent like that, continuing into multiple detailed discussions, everything from games he had found for you to play together all the way to plans for the following days, any negative emotions you had earlier now slipping away, thankful you had someone like him by your side.
The few final words exchanged between you and your biggest secret. There was no remorse in your voice as you parted ways with the group, knowing you’d see him later, preferably alone and under a purposefully dimmed lantern used as an excuse to get closer face to face.
The night was still young after all, just after sunset, you had left the gathering your friends had organized that day, nothing big, just a day to spend some time together.
You didn’t mind hanging out with them at all, you loved it, but, what they didn’t know was the situation happening between you and Techno, the relationship in its beginning phase was unavoidable, you had to bare through the secrecy, though it was killing you both.
He relaxed after you walked out the door, the guilt of hiding you and practically lying to his closest and most loved felt like it weighed enough to bury him alive. He closed the door behind you, not before exchanging a few secret glances, a mutual agreement that wasn’t goodbye.
The duration of the few steps he had to take to get back to the social circle was short, although to him it felt like a lifetime as he contemplated walking in and simply blurting out everything he felt was useful information and then walking right out to meet you. These thoughts, however, were never gonna be realized, as much as he wanted to, he stayed respectful to the mutual decision to announce everything once the right time came.
“You good?” the voice went straight through him, snapping him out of his thoughts in an instant. Shaking his head lightly, eyes screwed shut for just a second, as if to banish the thoughts right out of his head, he looked towards the voice, already recognized as Phil's but his eyes still led towards the noise. He blinked at him a few times, debating on how to go about the question without raising suspicion. “Yeah, just got a bit lost in thought,” he said, already planning to excuse his actions and chalk it up to lack of sleep, or food, or whatever he felt like was lacking at that moment; but there was no need to as he wasn’t questioned further, his friend more understanding than he anticipated, pushing away the sinking feeling tugging at his guts.
As evil as he could be at times, lying really did put him off, he never liked it, preferring to weigh out the consequences of telling the truth and stomach them. Secrecy was a strong suit to him, his reserved nature made it very easy, he didn’t exactly like that fact, but he couldn’t deny he was very good at keeping things to himself, knowing if even half the thoughts in his head were said out loud he would be put in some sort of institution.
The number of people didn’t budge, two hours after you had left that gathering was still going strong, a few more plans thrown in just for that night alone.
Techno was beginning to feel like he had miscalculated how long all this would last, feeling bad for making you leave so early, guessing people would follow your departure as many would in social settings. When they didn’t was when he got anxious, would it be strange if he was the next to leave? What if it was e dead giveaway he was following after you? He tried to ration, it’s been hours, and there was no way anyone would think that, but lying made him paranoid, convinced everyone was onto him and knew exactly what was going on. He sat on the armrest of the nearest sofa, head low, eyes glossed over and fixed to the floor, praying he could just get out of there smoothly.
As he was secretly begging for someone to leave, the same voice sounded again, this time closer, accompanied by an arm around his shoulders, “Seriously man, are you good?”, Phil was caring, he always made sure Techno was okay, no matter the time or place he tried his best to be as supportive as possible, which made it even harder, every fictive word bit at his heart whenever he chose to stray from the truth. This time it was different, while his feelings leaned more towards pulling him aside to let him know of everything that’s been going on, his mind leaped at the opportunity for an excuse to leave, putting you in first place as the main priority, refusing to make you wait any longer.
“Yeah,” he got up slowly, patting the front of his pants, old fashioned signaling he was getting ready to go, “ I’ve barely had any sleep these past few days,” this one didn’t hurt him, he was telling the objective truth, even though he wouldn’t be very soon, “I’m way too tired to be here right now, I should head home.” his head was low, but he felt eyes on him, “That’s alright, go ahead.” That was all Phil said, no questions asked, no “why’s” or “stay a bit longer’s”, and it made Techno even more nervous, while he knew Phil just wasn’t pushy, he couldn’t help but fear the possibility he knew.
A couple of farewells and some handshakes later he was finally leaving too; the air felt lighter around him as he felt the breeze carry away his anxious thoughts. It was colder now than it had been when he held the door for you a while ago, his face grimaced, hating the thought of you waiting all alone in the cold, all because he was too scared to leave and too impulsive with his decisions. Picking up the pace to the designated spot in between a small plantation patch, agreed on by you both when you saw how things seemed to disappear when in the middle.
You heard the footsteps, and you would’ve immediately hidden if it wasn’t for the signature chime of his long golden chain necklaces against each other as he walked, making his presence known to you, or anyone observant enough to realize the sound accompanied him everywhere he went. Peering your head out from behind the trunk of a tree closest to him, you raised your lantern, letting him know you were there. He sped up, fully jogging like someone was just around the corner, ready to witness your own private gathering. He stepped into the space between the surrounding trees, immediately taking the cape off his back, placing it on you without a word; you had noticed the temperature falling, not about to complain about his consideration. “Hi” you exhaled, able to freely talk to him after a few painful hours of avoidant conversation, your words no longer needed heavy filtering just to speak to him.
“Hey” he looked much happier to see you this time than he did when he last saw you, the corners of his mouth were tugging up slowly, unable to contain how good it felt to not worry about everyone’s eyes on him.
As you began conversation, he noticed you reaching up, trying to hook the lantern to a branch above you, you were failing, of course, but it was so nonchalant that it was only now catching up to him what you were trying to do. He stopped you during your current attempt, arm reaching out towards you, “Need help with that?” he laughed at your pointless struggling, a firm hold on the hand that was holding the lantern, you scoffed at him, glaring as he took the illuminating object from your hands only to place it where you had tried for so long effortlessly.
“Didn’t need it but thanks.”
finding the sudden attitude even funnier he only shook his head at you, still smiling, “It’s okay darlin, not all of us can practically level with God himself.”
You looked away, still pretending to be offended until you felt a hand slide from the side of your head down to your jaw, you turned your head back to him, taking notice of the shortened distance between the two of you, nestling your head further down, you closed your eyes enjoying the moment as you leaned into his touch subconsciously.
He sighed, running his thumb across your cheek before pulling his hand away, taking both of yours to get your attention, “Can I talk to you?” his words were calculated, sounding like a kid about to ask his mom for a sleepover. “Sure, what is it?” you held back a shaky breath, determined not to jump to any conclusions and simply hear him out. “Okay, come here,” he walked to an already cut-down log, making sure you followed as he sat down, pulling you in his lap, “So.” “So?” you cut him off, immediately regretting your actions as he tilted his head at you; you tightened your lips in a straight line, nodding up to signal him to continue, so he started up again. “You know this whole keeping everything a secret thing,” you nodded at him again, urging him to get to his point “Well, I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s time to tell the others hm?”
He looked at you, no gesture was made on his end, there was nothing he did to push answers out of you, respecting the time you needed to make your decision.
You looked back, his words always had a sort of charm to them, he could ask you for anything and you wouldn’t even blink before agreeing; but this time it was different, you leaned your body away from him, finally seeing his side of things, it was unfair of you to make him keep quiet if he no longer wanted to, the once mutual decision was now one-sided so you let it go, already growing tired of it yourself just by seeing through his point of view.
A whole minute of silence had passed, but he stayed quiet, his expression didn’t change, still patiently waiting for your opinions.
“Sure,” you spoke up, “Oh thank god” he let out quickly, his words were fast and airy, finally letting out the breath he’s been holding since he asked.
You smiled at him, his outburst letting you know you’d made the right decision.
“Honestly,” you got up from his lap, “ we should’ve, back at Phil’s place while everyone was still together, now we have to do that separately” you scrunched your nose up, realizing how dumb it was not to.
“Do you want to? It’s not too late…”
“What do you mean?” your head jerked back in confusion.
He told you about the plans the crew had made back when he was with them, letting you know they weren’t leaving until the morning, sparking interest within you, you perked up at his words.
He noticed your eyes shifting, scanning your surroundings absently as you thought about how to break the news. “You wanna go back, don’t you.” you looked at him, rolling your eyes to the side as your lips formed a small smile, not appreciating how he was able to read you so well.
He hummed, amused, shaking his head before he spoke “Alright, come on before they get too tired to care” “Care? Are you expecting them to boo? Throw tomatoes?” you nudged his shoulder before taking his hand, pulling him up next to you. “We all have dreams.” he tilted his head up, smizing down at you while you dropped your smile down, only staring at him straight-faced, which got a good chuckle out of him. He took your hand in his, not after you playfully tried to escape his hold, earning a tight squeeze once he got ahold of you.
On the way there, you two kept exchanging potential plans, building off each other to find the perfect way to address the situation. After a few rejected ideas and a few thought out ones you settled on a plan, you would tell Phil first, expecting him to open the door, you would pull him aside, tell him everything, and continue to drop the news on the rest, not really cautious of how it affected them, after all, they had no business in your relationship.
Once you got close enough, it dawned on you that those were the last moments in which you could only fantasize about what would happen once the door opened, taking a few final shaky steps to the door, hesitating to knock. He saw your raised fist drop, tilting your head toward him, your eyes pierced through his, and for a split second, he could see how nervous you were.
He took this as his cue to make the choice for you, pounding on the door to make sure it was heard from whatever corner of the house Phil was in.
The next few seconds were silent, your hand firmly squeezing his, a desperate attempt to distract yourself from how hard your heart was pounding.
The door opened, just as you had expected, your favored host stepping out with his eyebrows raised, visibly confused. You took a subconscious step back, hiding your body behind Techno hoping he would take over, barely acknowledging your actions as you were more focused on the plan you had to execute.
Techno turned to you, and right back to Phil, even if he was usually the shyer one in the relationship he wasted no time before finally letting the cat out the bag, setting all his thoughts free as he explained everything from today's events to why you decided to come back here; his chest felt lighter at the end, relieved he had an outlet for all the information he’d been withholding from them for a while.
Phil only smiled, patting him on the shoulder before he turned to you, muttering something about how he already knew something was going on, claiming you were too obvious, to which you shrugged, not minding the way Techno already began to mimic the way you blew your cover every time you spoke to him earlier in the day.
Heads turned upon your reappearance, a solid three hours after you had left, barely an hour after he did, everyone confused, but no negative reactions, feeling welcomed by your friends as you tried to re-emerge yourself in the setting.
A few seconds slipped by while you got greeted for the second time that day, Techno was already antsy, itching to get it over with and go back to enjoying his evening with them all, especially you.
“Guys,” Techno’s voice boomed out, louder than you expected, all eyes landing on him, even yours, but he didn’t mind, taking your hand in his, raising the knot between them in the air as if he had just won a match, “I need you all to know you are lonely losers and I’m better than you,” he smiled at how the overjoyed looks on your friends faces dropped as they were expecting some romantic announcement, accompanied by a loud “TECHNOOO!” coming from you, fully aware that was not in the script you had given him, the act already long forgotten even though you made him repeat it back to you multiple times.
Laughter emerged from various places in the room, the rest already catching up to your dynamic as you shoved him out your way, walking forward to speak to your friends without immediate degradation.
For the first time, he felt at ease around everyone, no longer feeling the pressure of committing himself to a mystery. You took the liberty of cuddling up to him, the group proposition of an all-night movie marathon seemed way more appealing, now that you could spend your time next to Techno without having to worry about any flags raising.
