Dsmp x reader smut

Tadem (Techno/Wilbur)

Credits to whitefawn

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He smiled at you, his face a beautiful cacophony of confusing emotions, and you feel sick to your stomach because you know he had already made up his mind. Wilbur's hand is on the button and he is saying something unheard because, fuck, everything is so fucking loud. You know nothing you will say could fix him, could push him back off the edge, but you are trying so hard. Tears cut through your cheeks as your words come out in desperate gasps.

"Please Wilbur, you know I can't do this without you." your voice is strained and pulled apart and his hand isn't moving from the button. His hand isn't moving from the button. Your confession bleeds into the open air and is crushed by your former lover with a laugh as he seems to grip your fluttering heart with spite.

"I know you can't." he grinned and it's as if all the air is sucked out of your lungs. A heat engulfing your body as everything is gone, smithereens of dreams and he's smiling. Everything you've ever wanted was destroyed by the only person that you have ever allowed to hold you so completely. The sun is eclipsed by the moon as Philza enters, not sparing your collapsed body a glance as he's so absorbed by his black hole of a son.

"Wilbur," your voice is weak and wavering and you remember the way he never stopped smiling. Even when his father's sword is through his chest, he's-

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You gasp, sweat running down your face as you struggle to breathe. It's all wrong, it's all wrong. Your body is hot and burning up and blood is splattered across your face, your eyes are wild, and it's never gonna get better. It's never gonna get better because he's dead and he knew-

"y/n!" his voice is gruff, just pulled from sleep as his hands hover over your clammy skin. Techno. You sigh as he finally touches you, inhumanly warm hands soothing your tense body. You focus on the way his fingertips are rough and war-torn and finally, you are in the bed, sunk down into the mattress, in a cabin, in a tundra and it's okay. Techno knows when you finally are in his arms because he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"Tech," you whimper out his name and he pulls you closer. He is the rope tethering you to the unforgiving ground as the cold begins to set into your bones no longer pushed away by the phantom heat of an explosion.

"It's okay, you're safe." no longer are his words of comfort clunky and unsaid but practiced and exhausted. Too familiar are your nights of waking up in a sweat, hyperventilating, and crying over his twin's death. You've thought about leaving, freeing him from your burden of being damaged goods, but you can't bring yourself to wander into the snow, leave him just as Wilbur had left you, empty-handed.

"Techno," his name is an unsaid prayer that he's still there, not seven feet underground in an unkept grave that never sees visitors. Your hands reach up to your face, feeling for dried blood that has stained your skin yet to no such luck. You are met with the smooth slopes of your bone structure as the man next to you studies your actions with an unspoken worry, voices in his own head mirror his own thoughts, are they ever going to get better?. "I'm sorry," you huff out the words and yet the two of you remain in silence. Techno lays back down in your shared bed, motioning for you to follow.

"Let's go back to sleep, aphrodite." you hum, crawling into his arms, trusting that he would be able to keep the nightmares at bay. "I love you," you feel yourself melt away into his arms as sleep once again takes hold.

When you wake you are alone with an indent in the large bed, but no longer do you feel scared. Cold is seeping into your bones as you watch the moving light of the sunrise paint the room in gold. Morning has washed everything away as its tide recedes to noon and you know for now it's okay until night swallows you all over again. You shimmy down the ladder, never liking that it was the only way to and out of the bedroom but it did make the living space feel bigger. Techno looked up from his book with a soft smile, motioning for you to come sit in his lap as he discarded the dog-tagged book to the table.