#bug.oneshots

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.” 

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

I saw your name on a street sign In the middle of nowhere And that has to mean something

You and Fundy had been messing around on the server all day, this being one of your boyfriend’s busier days. You didn’t want to let yourself miss out on any of the shenanigans on the SMP just because your boyfriend couldn’t be online, so you rang up Fundy and decided to muck around a little. The two of you had been sprinting down one of the paths when you had noticed a new sign at one of the many intersections. You stopped and crouched down to read it, Fundy watching you curiously. Suddenly, you giggled. “Hey, it says Dream Street,” you beamed, turning to face him.

“What?” he laughed, stooping down to inspect it. After a moment, he straightened back up. “Huh, I guess it does.”

“Oh, that’s so cool!!” you gushed, bouncing a little. “Would you mind taking a picture of me with it, Fundy? I wanna show him later.”

After laughing a little at your face-splitting smile, he agreed. You struck a cute pose beside the sign and smiled as the Dutch man crouched a little and took the picture.

I know your zodiac sign Me and Leos get along great And that has to mean something

“Are you on your astrology shit again?” your boyfriend asked as he laid across from you on the bed, an amused smile curling his lips.

“No,” you giggled, dragging it out as you opened an app on your phone. Co-star lit up your screen as you pulled your knees to your chest. “On a completely unrelated note, your birthday’s August 12th, right?”

Dream playfully rolled his eyes, nudging you with his foot. He busied himself with the strings of his hoodie, fake-ignoring you. Looking up at you, you raised your eyebrows. Well? Your partner huffed and cracked a smile. “Yes, my birthday’s August 12th.”

You hummed, nodding a little and typing some stuff into your phone. “Huh.”

Dream looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What?” You looked up from your phone with the smallest, fond smile on your face. When you didn’t answer, he tried again. “What? What are you huh-ing about?”

Your smile grew a little as you started to speak. “It says that me and Leos get along great.”

“Oh my god-”

“You know what that means?” you asked, cheeks dusting pink.

The boy sitting across from you snickered a little, short puffs of air leaving his nose. “No, what does it mean?” he replied, deciding to humor you.

“Our love was written in the stars!” you exclaimed dramatically, flopping over onto his legs. “It was meant to be.” You beamed up at him, clasping your hands together.

Dream sat up, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. The smile that curved his lips was real this time, not playful or mocking or amused. It was warm and fond and home. “It sure was.”

But for some reason You’re not here And I refuse to believe That means something

You’d been there for hours, waiting. He said he’d meet you at the bench - your bench. He said he’d meet you and you’d go for a walk and watch the sunset like you’d been planning. You had your little picnic blanket and your backpack and your dinner all packed up, probably no longer warm. You’d been ready, giddy all day, excited to watch the sunset with your one love and look at the stars and make up stupid, fake constellations and laugh at each other’s antics. You’d brought the little flower you’d made out of a piece of scrap paper too while wandering around aimlessly earlier, another little paper craft for his collection. You’d been excited. So excited that you couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge the dark feeling in the pit of your stomach; the feeling that something was wrong.

You refused to leave the bench, even as the breeze picked up and the sun neared the horizon. Sure, it wasn’t like Dream to be so late without giving you some sort of heads up, but maybe he was just this one time. Maybe he got caught up doing business with someone and he’d forgotten to shoot you a message. Maybe he forgot something and he had to run back home and grab it. Maybe he got stuck setting up one of his Classic Dream Surprises and had lost track of time. Maybe-

Many of your friends passed you on the path near your bench, gazing at you sympathetically but not stopping to talk. No one had the heart to break the news to you. Niki and Ranboo had lingered on the path for a little bit, whispering back and forth, debating whether or not they should check up on you. They eventually decided against it and went to go get Phil.

You bounced your leg and clutched the blanket a little tighter. It’ll be fine, he’s just running late.

I felt the way that you hugged me When I was broken inside And that has to mean something

He was gone. Wilbur was dead.

Your ears were ringing. The news had been on loop in your head since you’d received it. He’s gone, Y/N. He’s gone.

You and Wilbur had been relatively close - one could even go as far as to say that he was one of your best friends. Although you loved him dearly, you couldn’t say that you didn’t see it coming. Unfortunately, that didn’t dull that shock that came with the news. Dream had been out on business when you’d heard, and you’d been laid up in bed ever since. You refused to look in the mirror, already well aware of how rough you probably looked. Your eyes were swollen and red from crying, and you’d been wearing the same big hoodie all day. For the past two hours you’d been doing nothing but staring up at the ceiling, replaying every little moment you could remember from your friendship in your head. It hurt. Everything hurt.

You hadn’t heard when the front door opened. Or when Dream called out into the eerily quiet house, announcing that he was home. Or even the steps of your boyfriend approaching from down the hall. He opened the door, confused to see you in bed, puffy-eyed and motionless. You sat up in bed when you noticed a blur of green standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

The two of you stared at one another for a moment, the tension nearly palpable. Dream’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he stared at you in a vain effort to assess the situation, neither of you breathing. He blinked and your bottom lip began to quiver. Concerned, he look forward and you let out a wail, tears spilling down your cheeks.

He caught you, kneeling awkwardly over you on the bed to hold you tight against his chest. “What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

“He’s - gone,” you managed out between sobs.

“Who’s gone, honey?”

“Wil-” You hiccupped. “Wilbur’s dead.”

I felt the way that you kissed me When we got too drunk that night And that had to mean something

It was a good night; you and your boyfriend were sat around your candlelit coffee table having a celebratory drink. Celebrating what, you may ask? Well, no other occasion than Dream successful negotiating with a business partner. You couldn’t quite put your finger on why this negotiation was more important that your partner’s other successful business ventures, but his excitement was enough for you to give in.

You’d started drinking and talking around sunset. It was now nearing midnight and the two of you found yourselves dancing, slowly swaying to the tune of Dream’s humming. He lifted his chin from the top of your head, and you looked up to meet his gaze, curious. Leaning down, he rested his forehead against yours. “Can I kiss you?”

His breath fanned across your face, warming your already pink cheeks. Your lips curled in a lazy smile. He smelled like red wine and something smoky. You loved him like this, all close and vulnerable and yours.

Scrunching up your nose, you scoffed. “Can you kiss me?” you mocked playfully, leaning into him a little more. “Of course you can kiss me; we’re dating, love.”

“I just wanted to make sure,” he replied breathily, leaning down to lock your lips. Your noses brushed together, your eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. You clasped your hands behind his neck, leaning up the slightest bit on your tiptoes, and he held your elbows. The kiss was timid, but it warm and him and love and home. It was soft and sweet and comfortable. He kissed you like he was promising you the future, that everything would be okay. Like he was telling you he would always be there to take care of you.

When you pulled away, he moved to cup your cheeks, keeping your foreheads pressed together. For a good, long while, the two of you stayed standing like that, just swaying and smiling at each other.

But for some reason You’re not here And I refuse to believe That means something

You’d curled up on the bench by now, knees pulled up to your chest and wrapped in your picnic blanket. He’s coming, you assured yourself, chin tucked into your hoodie. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon and you’d resorted to tapping your foot against the wood of the bench in the awkward position. You didn’t bother checking your clock; you didn’t want to know how long you’d been waiting anymore. You just wanted to sit there and wait until your boyfriend showed up.

The paper flower you’d so carefully made for him had been cupped between your palms for hours now, probably sweaty and wilted. You’d thought about setting it down - but what if it blew away? What if you accidentally lost it?

You lost yourself a little staring out into the distance, trying to make out some kind of constellation in the inky darkness of the night. Sighing you slumped a little, trying not to let your paranoia get the best of you. At least you were both under the same sky. It was admittedly getting pretty chilly, but you didn’t care. You’d wait at your bench until Dream got here.

A hand gently met your shoulder, and you jumped. You smiled excitedly, relaxing. “Finally-” you started, turning to face him. Your smile dropped when, instead, you turned to be met with Phil’s sad smile. Confused and somewhat disappointed, you cocked your head. “Hi.”

“Hi, Y/N,” the older man greeted softly, moving around the bench. “Can I talk to you about something?”

Your brows furrowed once again, concerned. He seemed really serious. Scooting to one side, you patted the space beside you. “Yeah, of course. Whatever you need.”

He sighed sadly at that, taking a seat next to you on the bench. “I have some news,” he started carefully.

“News?” you echoed, sounding a little empty.

Phil inhaled deeply, sensing that you already knew that something was wrong. “Yeah, I have some news for you.”

You blinked slowly, turning to face him better. “Okay, what is it?”

“Let me start by saying however you react to this is totally okay, alright?” he began softly, watching as you nodded numbly.  “So, uhm.” He paused, wringing his hands. “Dream’s gone.”

“Yeah,” you said as if it were obvious. “He’s on his way here.”

“No, Y/N-” He paused again, trying to figure out how to word it delicately. “He’s not with us anymore.”

You scoffed in disbelief at Phil’s stubbornness. “Yes, Phil, I know. He’s away on business.”

“Y/N.” A sigh escaped his lips as he covered his mouth with his hand, now genuinely afraid of how you were processing things. “Y/N, he’s dead.” He waited for you to respond but, instead, you just blinked at him. “There was a disagreement during their meeting and things got out of hand-” Another pause. “He’s gone. I’m so sorry.”

Every time I think too much It ends up crazy I don’t know how to not think about you Every time I trust my gut I think I’m crazy ‘Cause I don’t know how to put my trust in you

It had been a few hours since you’d gotten the news, and the denial has slowly faded away. He would’ve texted you if he’d been running late. He wouldn’t have left you there for hours and hours, waiting for him on a little bench.

After the initial shock had worn off, you’d gone home to process things, and to say that things didn’t turn out pretty would be an understatement. Once you had gotten home, you went straight to your shared bedroom and made a mountain out of his clothes. Grabbing a case of beer from the fridge, you sat on the floor and stared at his stuff for a long while. You only had two bottles, knowing that drinking yourself out of feeling probably wouldn’t be the best solution right now, but you still sat there nursing your drink as the tears silently rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d been here before.

By the time you’d heard the knock at your front door, the house was a mess. Picture frames were shattered, anything that belonged to Dream or reminded you of him was scattered about, his snacks were piled up on the kitchen counters, his shoes were stacked up behind the bedroom door - the entire house was in a state of complete chaos. And there you were, wailing and dragging yourself through the mess towards the front door. You swung open the door, which bounced off of an overflowing box of trinkets Dream had collected from you, and there was Sapnap standing awkwardly on your front porch.

You were suddenly aware of how rough you looked, red nose and puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks in all of your grieving glory. You’d put on a pair of his sweats and a random hoodie he’d gifted you for one of your anniversaries, both of which were obviously too big for you. You sniffled, looking up at the man sadly.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sapnap asked softly, wondering what exactly was and wasn’t okay to ask someone who’d just heard that their partner had passed away.

Your eyebrows knit together and something inside of you broke. You tried to choke back a sob, but it came out as a sputtering cough as a waterfall of tears poured down your face. “No,” you wailed, slumping in on yourself and grabbing fistfuls of the extra fabric of the hoodie you were wearing. Losing a little bit of your self-control, you lurked forward and threw your arms around the other, who didn’t hesitate to pull you into himself. Rubbing circles into your back, he walked you back into the house. Navigating the mess of you trying to sort out all of Dream’s things was no easy task but, eventually, he led you to your living room. 

The both of you sat down on the couch, you still hugging him and him still rubbing circles into your back. He would hold you for as long as you needed, humming a little in a vain attempt to try and make you feel better. “I know it’s hard that he’s gone now,” he started, trying not to start crying himself. “But it’ll be okay, Y/N. I’ve got you.”

Do you think it means something That I wrote another song about you?

You sang softly, kicking your legs from where you sat at the edge of the cliff you’d found. It was some coping and recovery exercise Bad had recommended - writing songs or poems or stories or whatever about things you were struggling to come to terms with. You had to admit that it had helped some. When you’d first started with the writing, you’d chosen to start writing songs because you’d seen how happy Dream had been when he used to write music. You wanted a part of that. You wanted to understand what had made him so happy.