#late night video editing fun

[amyriadfthings]

"Do you approve?"

This is such a cool little moment from the first time Alfred is at Henry´s place.

The score that sets in immediately after Henry closes the door and locks out the outside world is so unsettling at first and sounds like danger is afoot, and for Alfred´s status quo it certainly is. There´s tension building right away. But then wonder of discovery gets sprinkled in quickly with those individual twinkling notes on top. It´s giving thrill of the unknown, uncertainty of what you´re getting yourself into, starting out with uneasiness, but magnetically and willingly letting yourself be pulled in, or, you know, visiting your secret forbidden crush for the first time.

Alfred is so unguardedly wide-eyed when he´s in that intimate setting and tapping more into who Henry is and what he cares about by looking at his photographs, it does something to me 🫠 (Even if they´re for a story they´re still Henry´s pov and choices, and Alfred looks like he´s soaking it all up, and also like he´s never seen photographs like that before. Just wait for later, buddy. You ain´t seen nothing yet.) You can basically watch him make those connections between what he sees and who Henry is in his mind. He´s filling in a crude drawing, shading and refining it as he moves from picture to picture. Henry´s gaining dimension, depth and color by the second, and Alfred looks like he´d like to keep going, as uncertain and scared as he might be.

And Henry? He´s just trying to gauge what Alfred is about. The question whether Alfred approves is really the critical and central one in the bigger scheme of things. Does Alfred approve of what´s going to happen between them? Of Henry? Of them? Of being with a man? They´re also the first words spoken here after Alfred has entered and come as a disruption for him, just like that ultimate approval will be a disruption to his life. Fitting that he doesn´t give an answer here at this point.

The slightest knowing smile spreading on Henry´s face at the end when Alfred basically has to tear himself away and return to reality is the best, especially paired with Alfred´s mouth falling open again as it so often does around Henry 🥰 perpetual shock to Alfred´s system thy name is Henry Ashe 🥰)

[corvidquartz]

Ah yes. Pineapple Cocktail Gamer Supps and Push Orange Soda. Nectars of the gods. Otherwise known as my companions for another long night of editing. ^^

[gilbertscurls]

Heyyy so i could get this request where reader is triplets bsf since they were young and reader did vid with them on car like who knows reader better and fans notice how Chris looks at her and makes edits of them both and the eventually confess their love and thank youu

hope you like it!! <3

Sparks Fly ➵ Chris Sturniolo

You’d known Chris Sturniolo and his brothers for as long as you could remember. Growing up with triplets meant your life was always a whirlwind of laughter, chaos, and inside jokes that no one else could understand. Chris had always been your person, though. Even when you were kids, he was the one who sat with you during movie nights, who remembered your favorite candy, and who sent you memes late at night just to make you laugh. He was your best friend—the kind of friendship that made everything feel easy.

That is, until recently.

The three of them had started their YouTube channel a couple of years ago, and it blew up faster than anyone had expected. You were always around, whether it was helping them brainstorm video ideas, holding the camera, or appearing in their challenges. You’d been in a bunch of their videos, just another one of the guys. That’s how it had always been: you, Matt, Nick, and Chris. But lately, things had changed. Or maybe it was just you who had changed.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you realized you had feelings for Chris—real feelings, the kind that made your stomach flip whenever he smiled at you, the kind that made your heart race when his hand brushed yours. Maybe it was during one of your late-night conversations when he opened up about his dreams, or maybe it was when he laughed so hard at one of your jokes that he snorted. Either way, your feelings were undeniable now, and it terrified you.

Because this wasn’t just any guy. This was Chris. Your best friend. And if things went wrong, you could lose him.

But then there was that video—the one that had changed everything.

It was one of those classic “Who Knows Me Better?” challenges. Chris was in the backseat of the car, next to Nick, while you sat up front, turning around every now and then when you asked ridiculous questions about yourself. “What’s my favorite snack?” “What movie do I quote the most?” It was silly, fun, like every other video you’d done with them.

But when the video went live, the fans saw something you hadn’t.

Within hours, the comment section exploded.

“Is anyone else noticing the way Chris looks at Y/N? 😍”

“Chris is definitely in love with her, right? Or am I imagining things??”

“The way he smiled when he got the answer right... I’m SCREAMING!”

You scrolled through the comments, heat rising to your cheeks. What were they talking about? You and Chris were just friends. That’s all you’d ever been. But when you rewatched the video, you couldn’t unsee it. The way his eyes lingered on you a little too long, the way his smile softened whenever you spoke. It made your heart ache with a hope you weren’t ready to face.

And then the edits started.

Fans put together clips from all the videos you’d been in with Chris—the little moments you hadn’t noticed before. Him reaching out to help you down from a ledge, the way he would always sit next to you without thinking, how he’d glance at you between takes, like you were the only person in the room. It wasn’t just the fans anymore. Even Matt and Nick started teasing him, dropping hints about how “someone” had a crush.

It was overwhelming. You spent days replaying every interaction, every look, every smile, trying to figure out what it all meant. Did Chris really feel the same way about you? And if he did, what would that mean for your friendship? You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, of ruining what you had. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the growing tension between you.

One afternoon, you found yourself at their house again, just like always. You and Chris were in his room, lounging on his bed, the afternoon sun spilling in through the curtains. The air felt thick, charged with all the unspoken feelings hanging between you. He was scrolling through his phone when he let out a soft groan.

“Ugh, the fans are relentless,” he muttered, glancing over at you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but your heart was already racing.

He turned his phone to show you. It was another edit—this time, it was a montage of every time he had looked at you with that soft, almost dreamy expression. You felt a lump form in your throat as you watched it. It was undeniable now.

You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “They really love their shipping, huh?”

Chris laughed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, they do. But… it’s kinda weird, isn’t it? I mean, we’re just friends.”

Your heart dropped. There it was—he had said it. Friends. That’s all you were, all you ever would be. You felt your chest tighten, and you were about to brush it off, make some joke to change the subject, when Chris spoke again, his voice quieter now.

“Unless… I don’t know. Maybe they’re not completely wrong.”

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. “What do you mean?”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his blue eyes filled with uncertainty and something else, something that made your heart pound in your chest.

“I mean… maybe they’re seeing something I’ve been too scared to admit,” he said softly. “I don’t want to mess this up, but… Y/N, I think I’ve been falling for you for a while now. I just didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

Your mind was spinning, trying to process his words. Was this really happening? Did Chris just say he had feelings for you?

“Chris…” you started, your voice barely a whisper. “I—”

“I know it’s a lot,” he interrupted quickly, his cheeks flushed with nerves. “And if you don’t feel the same way, we can just forget I said anything. I don’t want to lose you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “No, Chris, that’s not it. I… I’ve been trying to hide it too. I’ve been scared because I didn’t want to lose you either. But the truth is… I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face, the kind that made your heart skip a beat every time.

“Really?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.

You nodded, feeling the weight of all your fears finally lift. “Yeah. Really.”

Before you could say anything else, Chris leaned forward, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss, and it felt like everything you’d ever wanted but had been too afraid to hope for. The kiss was sweet, filled with all the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for so long.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were smiling, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything made sense.

“So,” Chris said, his voice light and teasing, “do you think the fans are gonna freak out when they find out we’re actually together now?”

You laughed, your heart full. “Oh, they’re definitely going to freak out. But I don’t care. I’m just happy we finally figured it out.”

Chris grinned, pulling you into another kiss, and you knew, without a doubt, that this was the start of something incredible.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Moments in Time - Jack Hughes Edition

Word Count - 3k almost

Summary: The eight times Jack Hughes showed his love through the ring camera that he didn’t even want in the first place.

Warnings - none pure fluff I know a true shocker if you aren't new here

Author's Note: Hello everyone as always thank you for reading. This is apart of a "Moments in Time" series that I wrote eight moments each of the Hughes brothers. The fics are individual stand alone pieces, they can be read in any order, or you could only read the one brother you want.

Quinn Hughes Edition. Luke Hughes Edition.

I have to give credit to my girl Kay @icebound-imagination for not only helping come up with the original idea! But literally stayed up late one night to help me detail plan all three Hughes brothers fics because I didn't want any repeated ideas.

Main Masterlist

The last thing that Jack wanted was a ring camera. He said he didn’t want the footage to somehow get leaked and his fans figure out where his apartment was. He also didn’t like the idea of every single time someone passed your apartment getting a notification on his phone. But you told him that since he’s gone so much, you would like to have a ring camera because it made you feel safer when he wasn’t home. As soon as the words left your mouth, Jack was on his phone ordering the best one that they made not without mumbling “you really know what to say to get what you want. Just so you know I still don’t like the idea.” But as time went on, although he would refuse to admit you think he kind of loved having the idea of a ring camera so that he could mess with you. 

Smacking the camera to say he’s home.

Once the camera was installed and everything was set up. Jack found funny little ways to tell you hi even if you were apart. It started as an occasional thing when he was coming home from morning skate and you were already at work. Or coming home from the gym and he knew you were out with friends. He loves to ring the doorbell and smack it. He always says the most random shit to go along with it. The first time he did it he was coming home from the dry cleaners and you were out to lunch with some coworkers. He smacked the camera and literally said “hi babe just wanted to say hi and did you know the dry cleaner broke up with his girlfriend..”  

But shortly it became a daily thing. Anytime he came home even if you were already home he would smack the camera and make a silly face and say the first thing that came to mind literally. Anything from something random that happened at practice, asking what you want for dinner, or simply “I love you babygirl, drive home safe.” as he smacks the camera before entering the apartment. Jack always said it was to annoy you and maybe it was. But he also secretly loved that no matter where you were at the time you would get a little notification. He also loves that no matter where you are at work, in a meeting, with friends, or at the grocery store you would always watch the video in the moment and send him a text as a response. It kind of became his daily way to say ‘I’m thinking of you and I love you’ even if he didn’t always say it in the moment. 

2.  A boy’s night out equals drunken moments caught on camera

You knew that Jack was going to go out for a team bonding/guy’s night thing tonight. You also knew that Jack rarely came home sober from those things when he wasn’t DD. Jack never came home at a decent hour when he went out with the boys and you found yourself choosing your own sleep rather than staying up. Tonight was no different, you did however wake up when he fell into bed practically falling on top of you in the process. “Hi baby.” he mumbled as he laid on top of you and the covers. 

“Hi Jackey, did you have fun.” softly turning he wasn’t putting as much weight on you,playing with his hair. “Baby why don’t you take your jeans off and get under the covers.” you softly suggest all you got in response was a moan of protest as Jack fully rolled off of you in his lazy drunken state take off his jeans before crawling under the covers and bear hugging you immediately falling asleep. “Night Jackey” you whispered quickly, allowing sleep to lure you back. 

The next morning, when you were making breakfast you finally had a chance to see your notifications from when you were asleep. Living in an apartment it wasn’t abnormal to see a few ring notifications about something moving by your door overnight especially on a Friday night. But what was odd, was that your doorbell rang at 3:15 AM. Deciding to watch the video that ring filmed immediately you found yourself laughing. It was a video of a very very intoxicated Jack. He couldn’t even stand up straight, of course the video started with a hello smack. But once he started attempting to talk you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Heyy babycakes!” immediately he started laughing at the random nickname he just gave you. “It’s babycakes now cause your ass is so big and cakey.” The laugh that left him, you knew affected his whole body cause he almost fell over. Even though the nickname didn’t really make much sense.

“Before you ask, I took an uber I didn’t wanna wait for Nico I needed to see ma gurrll” making one of his classy sass faces he continued “because I’m responsible like that duhhh.” He started digging through his pockets mumbling to himself all you could catch between the bad audio quality and the slurring was “keys… loooosst.. Fuck.. oopsie.” His keys now in front of his face, dangling them “found em.” Giving a big kiss to the camera and then stumbling inside before the video cut out. 

You couldn’t help the tears coming out of your eyes from laughing so hard at drunk Jack, so happy that Jack gave in to letting you both have a ring camera so you can show his brothers this next time you saw them. 

3. Improutu karokate moments  

After coming back from a run, Jack still has his blasting in his ears. His face looks exhausted after running outside in one of those rare fall heatwaves.His hair sticking to his forehead and also in a million different directions. His cheeks were a little red from sweat or the sun you weren’t sure but he looked adorable. Jack knew that you weren’t home but what he didn’t know was that you immediately opened the ring notification because you were expecting an amazon package. Thinking that there was no way you would ever see this he let himself get lost in the music in his ears and have a little karokate moment at the front door. Jack randomly breaking out into song isn’t the reason that you found yourself crying in laughter in the middle of the store. But rather it was a song he was singing that made you lose it. Once you heard the popular lyric “I’m talkin’ all around clock, I’m talkin’ hope nobody knocks, I’m talkin 'wild wild thoughts..” The fact that Jack Hughes was singing Sabrina Carpenter and having his hot girl moment in the hallway in front of your apartment you couldn’t help yourself from messing with him. 

“I thought you hated this song?” the sound of your voice scaring Jack.

“Baby Jesus you can’t be doing that! And I don’t like it.” He tries to lie but it doesn’t work and he knows it doesn’t.

“Uh huh baby you don’t have to hide your new guilty pleasure song” you tease.

“Whatever I’m going inside.” As he finally opens the apartment door and lightly slams it shows how “upset” he was at you for teasing him. 

4. Counting down the days  

It was one of those rare times when you were the one out of town and not Jack. Let’s just say Jack was not used to being home and you not being with him. In total you were only gone for 7 days having a vacation planned with your friends. Jack didn’t wanna bother you constantly with calling and texting so he came up with the next best thing “ring camera check-in time.” He actually started it as a joke when he came home from the airport after dropping you off. Accidentally ringing the doorbell on his way into the apartment saying something like “have a safe flight baby, T minus 7 days till I see you again.” and then proceeding to make the most cringey kissy sounds into the camera. He didn’t even know you would see it but since you once you settled on your seat on the plane a few hours later you did and immediately texted him about how you thought his video was adorable. So of course Jack made it a point, everytime he left his house for a morning skate, going to the store, a game or came home to give you a one sentence update on his day and how many more days to had left until you were home. Even though you didn’t always watch them in the moment when you did they immediately put a smile on your face and you were so grateful to have these little mini personal vlogs forever of Jack. 

5. Look no emotional support shoes 

Jack is known for being quick witted, both of you found yourselves constantly teasing each other about random things. One of your favorite things to tease him about was how the fans were even tired of his “emotional support Air Forces” and “emotional support Fiji water bottle.” The water bottle was an easy fix. You brought him a hydroflask off Amazon and told him “it’s time for you to be an adult Jack and use a reusable water bottle like the rest of us for emotional support.” Even Jack was surprised at how Twitter reacted to him bringing his little reusable water bottle everywhere with him. They all picked on him, still saying it was obviously his girlfriends doing and hoped you could get him to wear other shoes every once in a while. Jokingly you said on your Instagram story, that sadly the shoes will probably have to stay because he’s so physically attached to them. 

Jack was leaving the next day for a home game. Since you were still at work he had to use the ring camera to show you his suit before he left. At the moment you were able to pull your phone out at work and started watching him show you his suit. It was a basic navy suit with a white button up and black tie. But then Jack’s smile grew as he kicked one foot back to show you his shoes. He was wearing a new pair of Jordan ones with blue accents. You were in shock at your desk as you watched him reveal his shoes, truly you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing the speaker button.

“I never thought I’d see the day Jackey.”

“BABY?!” the surprise evident in his voice not expecting you to watch him in real time. 

“I’m proud of you for branching out and I know Twitter will be too.” you add the last part jokingly. 

“I gotta go. Love you, see you later.”

“Me too. Love you Jackey, see you tonight!”

6. Date Night

Jack and you both tried to have at least one date a week where you both went out for a night together. Sometimes it would be to go to the movies, a Broadway show, or even just a simple dinner. Tonight was no different, both deciding that it was time to try the new fancy restaurant down the street that just opened last month. Both of you enjoying all the fancy food, Jack enjoying their high end whiskey and you with their fancy mix drinks. 

It was just overall an amazing night, filled with jokes and laughter, flirting truly a perfect date night. The end of the night was no different, as you walked down the hallway together holding hands. As you went to dig through your purse to look for your keys to open the door, Jack couldn’t help but come up behind you and start kissing you where your neck and shoulder met. 

“You just looked so pretty tonight love” as he placed wet kisses on your neck. As you both drunkenly stumble into the apartment. Both of you have never been more grateful to have a ring camera the next morning when you realized it caught the entire moment. 

7. Online Shopping Gone Wrong

The other night you got a little tipsy and might have brought way too many packages on Amazon. It’s not that Jack would care how you spend your own money but sometimes the way he chirps you about your ‘midnight tipsy shopping sprees’ you just didn’t wanna hear it. Since you know how Jack loves checking the camera everytime he gets a “movement” notification hoping it’s you to mess with. Since you were trying to avoid the teasing this time around you didn’t want him to catch how many amazon packages you brought a few days ago. So you change the address to Luke’s apartment only to realize you have to get the amazon packages into your house. 

Deciding that the best option for sneaking the packages inside your apartment was to force Luke and Nico to help. The plan was simple: Luke will stand in front of the ring camera while you and Nico Hurriedly carry everything inside. The plan was working great for about two whole minutes, just for Jack to hear Jack’s voice startle all three of you through the camera. 

“Luke, what are you doing? I thought you said you had a dentist appointment and that’s why you couldn’t come to the gym?”

Luke was an amazing person, but he was a terrible liar and that fact has never been more clear than in this moment. His nervousness got the best of him from the moment he heard his brother’s voice he said the first thing that popped into his head. “Yeah, just stopping by to give something to Y/N real quick.” 

“Okay? what are you giving her?” Jack’s curiosity was clear in his voice. It was obvious that he didn’t believe his brother’s lie and wanted to see how far Luke would go. Fuck him for knowing his little brother so well and fuck his curious personality in this moment you thought to yourself. 

All Luke can do is give a few ums as a response to his brother. Which is exactly what lets your anxiety raise and is probably why you decided to yell “LUKE PLEASE SHUT UP!” Now you’re feeling caught in the act of not only lying to your boyfriend about your tipsy shopping spree but also wanting to kill his little brother for not being able to come up with a better lie on the spot. 

All of this is of course what leads Nico to start to softly curse in German. Of course Jack recognized his captains’ voice. “Wait Nico is there too??” At this point Nico is sighing at the floor, holding 3 packages, you slide down the front door in true embarrassment at your failed plan and Luke is as red as a lobster. So all three of you are pretending that as long as you don’t move maybe Jack will forget the entire encounter. Only for Jack to softly chuckle and go “hey baby you know you used my card for amazon right?” Lifting your head in pure shock you must have been more drunk than you originally thought. “I knew the second you placed the order. It’s also my amazon account baby, you haven’t paid for prime in years.” 

Nico and Luke immediately throw their hands up in frustration and leave you in the hallway. Surrounded by packages and some were pretty heavy. Although you couldn’t blame them you would have left yourself too if you were them. Although you were a little sad that they didn’t speak to you for a week and didn’t even answer a group chat if she happened to be in it. After being salty for a week, they are more annoyed at themselves for trusting Y/N to come up with a plan in the first place because she’s the same girl who spent months planning Jack a surprise birthday party. Only to accidentally send an evite to Jack. 

   8.) Matching OOTD

Jack’s favorite thing when he’s home is matching his outfit with you.He loves your style and even he knows you have better shoe game then he does. But that doesn’t stop you from yelling at him to please leave the emotional support Air Forces Ones at home for one evening! Jack didn’t only love your thoughts on his fits, but he loved matching with you. He says that it’s just another way of people knowing that you're his and he finds it kind of hot. Plus he loves how happy you get when you can match shoes or even a simple sweats. When on the road he found himself missing your little routine of getting ready together. So everyday on your way out the door, you ring the camera and record your little outfit of the day. He tries his best to match some way even on roadies in some little way because it helps him feel closer to you. 

It slowly becomes Jack’s favorite thing about the day when the notification comes on his phone that you’ve left the apartment and recorded your fit. He always sends back a little video (sometimes with Lukey or Nico in it depending on the day) of his outfit choice as well. He loves on the rare day when he’s away that he can match with you even if it’s from across the country, and even when it’s as simple as wearing the same color shirt. Somehow this little act you guys have has helped the long roadies feel shorter and both of you have become grateful for this little daily ritual you’ve created. 

[insomniac4000]

Sorry, wrong roommate ChrisMD

In which fans ship the wrong people.

Y/N had been on YouTube for over a decade, her channel a mix of witty challenges, heartfelt travel vlogs, and occasional collaborations with other creators. With over six million subscribers, Y/N was adored for her authenticity and sharp humour. Over the years, she'd become close friends with Chris Dixon, better known as ChrisMD, a fellow YouTuber with a penchant for football content.

For years, their friendship had been nothing but platonic. They'd filmed countless videos together, shared inside jokes, and supported each other through breakups and career slumps. They both invested into The Fellas Studio’s which meant they had office and production spaces in the building, on the same floor. But three months ago, something shifted. A late-night conversation in Chris’s office turned into a lingering glance, which turned into a kiss, which turned into them falling into a relationship neither of them had seen coming.

Chris lived in a flat with fellow content creators George Clarke and Arthur Hill, Y/N, being a frequent visitor to Chris’s flat, naturally spent time with their pair of them as well. In particular Y/N and George hit it off instantly, their shared sense of humour leading to a fast friendship. However, Y/N and Chris had decided to keep their relationship private for now. They didn’t want the pressure of public opinion or fan theories while they were still navigating the early stages of being a couple. They had both been down that road before with relationships somewhat playing out on screen so they wanted to things to be for themselves for a while until they were ready to share. What they hadn’t anticipated was how quickly the internet would misinterpret Y/N and George’s friendship.

It all started one Friday night Y/N leaned back against the couch in Chris, Arthur and George's living room, scrolling through her phone. George sat beside her, editing a TikTok they'd just filmed a chaotic dance routine that involved several failed attempts and a lot of laughter.

"This is gold," George said, grinning as he watched the video.

"Pure comedy genius," Y/N agreed, sipping her wine as Chris was sat on the other sofa, a bemused smile on his face as he had watched all of the chaos unfold in front of him they did try to rope him into it too but Chris could be very stubborn.

The Tiktok had it’s fans, and they noticed that Y/N and George started posting several photos and videos together over the next few weeks, often tagging each other and teasing back and forth in the comments. Even when the weren’t together To them, it was harmless fun. To their fans, it was evidence of something more.

George Clarkeey- I’m on a boat MF

Y/N- a Picture of you and all the women you’ve ever chatted up.

Y/N Loving my new view in my flat.

George Clarkeey- Wear your bloody glasses for once and you’ll be able to see it.

On Twitter, hashtags like #Y/NAndGeorge and #NewYouTubeCouple were started to creep up. Fan edits of their TikToks flooded Instagram, accompanied by captions like, "Their chemistry is undeniable!" and "We ship it!"

Y/N showed one of the posts to George, who burst out laughing.

"They think we’re dating?" he said, eyes wide.

"Apparently," Y/N replied, shaking her head.

Chris walked into the room just then, his hair damp from a shower. "What’s so funny?" he asked, sitting on the armrest of the couch beside Y/N.

"People think I’m dating George," Y/N said, showing him the post.

Chris smirked, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes something like irritation. "Well, that’s... creative."

"Relax, Dixon," George said, clapping Chris on the back. "Your girlfriend's too classy for me."

"True," Y/N teased, earning a playful nudge from George.

As the weeks went on, the rumours only grew. Every time Y/N and George posted something together, fans speculated further. Chris tried to laugh it off, it wasn’t something they had expected to happen when they kept their relationship quiet and in all honesty it was quite a welcome distraction in some ways. He trusted Y/N completely, but seeing fans ship her with someone else—especially his flatmate—was frustrating. He couldn’t say anything publicly without revealing their relationship, and he didn’t want to be the jealous boyfriend, not that he was jealous he wasn’t ready to share things with the world just yet but there was a part of him that was quite it wasn’t him and Y/N who were getting the attention, there was still a big part of him that wanted to shout out his feelings from the rooftops and he felt a little guilty that he couldn’t always show her how much she meant to him in the way that he wanted to.

The rumours reached a fever pitch when a paparazzi photo surfaced of Y/N and George grabbing coffee together. In the picture, George was holding the door open for Y/N, who was laughing at something he’d said. The internet went wild.

“They’re so cute together!”

“Look at my boy all growing up.”

“I swear George has been crushing on her for ages.”

What people didn’t know was George and Y/N were picking up a coffee before going shopping together as George asked Y/N’s help to get him something for Chris’s birthday.

Then came the podcast

Max kicked off the episode with his usual sarcastic charm. "We’ve got a very special guest today—YouTube royalty herself, Y/N! Applause, please."

George clapped dramatically, making Y/N roll her eyes with a laugh.

"Thanks for having me, boys," Y/N said, settling into her seat.

She talked about making Youtube videos, including some of her silliest moments travelling including having three airlines go bust, a ton of lost luggage including a lot of expensive camera equipment and thoughts she was going to die when a plane she was on almost flew into a hurricane.

“People think my personal life is really interesting too,” Y/N started with a grin, a small glint also showed up in George’s eye, they were well aware of what people were saying and while they did nothing to fan the flames they didn’t stoke the fire either. They were friends, friends hung out together that was all it was. Y/N continued “but really I think because I travel a lot when I am home I just tend to hang out really. I do really like to cook actually George I need to give you lessons,” she added with a smile on her face. George sighed and slumped down in his chair slightly.

“It’s not that bad,” he tried to defend himself but it fell on deaf eyes. Max looked with an amused smirk as Y/N sat up straighter in his chair, leaning forward.

"Not that bad? Do you remember last week when you tried to make toast and somehow managed to burn it? Like, the smoke alarm went off, George. It’s toast. It has one job."

Max burst out laughing, while George groaned again. "Why do you have to bring that up? It was one time!"

"Once is all it takes to lose your cooking privileges," Y/N teased.

The conversation quickly shifted to other topics, but fans latched onto Y/N’s comment.

Clips of the episode went viral almost immediately, particularly Y/N’s anecdote about George burning toast. Fans dissected her casual delivery, honing in on one detail: why was Y/N there in the morning to witness it?

Twitter was flooded with speculation.

“Wait, Y/N was at George’s flat in the MORNING? 👀”

“They’re not even trying to hide it anymore!”

“So Y/N and George are definitely dating, right? She’s roasting his cooking like a true girlfriend.”

Y/N saw the posts later that evening and couldn’t help but laugh. She sent a screenshot of one particularly dramatic fan theory to George and Chris in their group chat.

Y/N: Apparently, I’m your girlfriend now because you can’t cook toast.

George: I mean, to be fair, I’d date me too.

Chris: This is getting ridiculous. You should’ve just told them you were there because of me. Plus George I can still smell burnt toast, whenever I walk into the kitchen I think I’m having a stroke, I’m useless.

Y/N: And ruin the mystery? Never.

George: Chris I thought you had Y/N to give you a stroke now?

Y/N:FFS George

Despite their lighthearted texts, Chris couldn’t shake the unease that lingered after the episode aired. Fans were taking Y/N’s story and running with it, creating elaborate timelines and theories about her supposed relationship with George.

One evening, as Chris and Y/N curled up on the couch watching a movie, he sighed.

"What’s wrong?" Y/N asked, glancing up at him.

"Just... all this George stuff," he admitted. "I know it’s dumb, but I hate that people think you’re with him. Like, we’re together, and no one knows."

Y/N’s expression softened. "Chris, they’re just having fun with their theories. It doesn’t change anything between us."

"I know," he said, running a hand through his hair. "It’s just hard sometimes, seeing people say stuff like that."

Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Well, if it helps, I’m planning something that’ll clear everything up soon."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Should I be worried?"

"Probably," she said with a grin.

It took another couple of week but Chris and Y/N decided enough was enough, they were ready to share. Plus the rumours were becoming too ridiculous to ignore. Fans were dissecting every interaction between her and George, claiming they were secretly in love, there was even one rumour the pair were getting engaged, it was definitely going too far.

She drafted an Instagram post, carefully choosing her words. Then, with a mischievous smile, she typed the caption:

“Sorry, been f**ing the wrong flatmate 🙃.”*

Y/N hit “post” and set her phone down.

Within minutes, her notifications exploded.

Fans were in a frenzy.

“WAIT WHAT?!”

“We’ve been duped!”

“I knew it was Chris all along!”

“The flatmate comment has me dead 💀.”

“Great cover story, I never would have predicted this.”

With their relationship public, Y/N and Chris felt a weight lift off their shoulders. They no longer had to hide their affection, and the rumours about Y/N and George quickly faded.

As for George, he milked the situation for all it was worth, joking in videos about being the “rejected flatmate” and pretending to be heartbroken. He posted his own photo of him and Arthur Hill, with the caption trying to make a certain someone jealous.  

In the end, the chaos only brought them closer together. Y/N and Chris continued to share glimpses of their relationship with their fans, proving that sometimes, the best stories are the ones you don’t see coming.

[fireflyinks]

I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

[megamagimugi]

He's-a Gone

Luigi time! To suffer, that is.

(CW: character death)

This is obviously a sort of comlementary piece to I Was-a Too Late. But it's more than just that as it also illustrates a certain fun, dark what-if idea I had. Please keep reading if you're intrigued!

Lore:

Luigi's Mansion, the first game. Everything goes the same as in canon until the final boss fight, when Luigi defeats King Boo in his Bowser costume. After King Boo comes out and Luigi intends to suck him in, the villain laughs and reveals the truth: Mario's painting was an illusion, so was everything Madame Clairvoya saw. All just to mess with Luigi. Meanwhile the real Mario wasn't just captured by the Boos, he was immediately killed by them on their King's orders. The only physical thing that's left of him in this realm is the five items Luigi found - hidden by the Boos for Luigi to find, another part of King Boo's sick game.

Luigi is able to finish the fight despite his shock and grief, fueled by the anger King Boo never expected from him. After getting out of the painting the plumber discovers that it is indeed empty, no Mario or anyone else in the portrait.

Heartbroken and guit-ridden, Luigi goes back to Professor E. Gadd's lab and gives him back the Poltergust 3000. He doesn't even want to stay long enough to see what is going to happen to the ghosts. Of course the Professor tries to offer some semblance of comfort, but we all know it's not his forte.

So Luigi leaves, only taking Mario's five items with him. He notices that the mansion has disapeared without a trace. The reality of it all finally hits him, and he practically collapses onto a nearby tree's large root protruding from the ground, putting down the precious items around himself, only leaving the matching red hat and the letter in his hands. He should have known something was off. After all, the Mario he saw in the painting was wearing his hat and both gloves.

Looking at all these items, to his growing horror he can't help but imagine what exactly might have happened to his brother and what his last moments might have been like. He hugs the hat to his chest and rereads Mario's note several times, knowing that the brief warning was his brother's last words to him.

Luigi can do nothing but cry for the beloved brother he couldn't save, desperately wishing it was his warm, living and breathing body pressed to his chest rather than just a couple of his belongings.

But Mario is truly gone, apparently having met such a horrific fate that not even a single part of his body is left in the physical world.

[Good night]

…I'll leave the rest up to your imagination ;) Sorry if I got carried away with my description. Occasionally even I enjoy being a little dramatic, though I'm no writer whatsoever.

Yeah, I'm not apologizing for making this one - I was nicer to Luigi than to his bro, at least here the Mushroom Kingdom and everyone in it (except for Mario lol) is still okay!

But alas,

You can no longer play as Mario (warning: this is a video with sound)

Rest in spaghetti, funny wahoo man.

@federthenotsogreat I'm tagging you because you said you wanted more Mario art like I Was-a Too Late, thought you might like this one too!

@drones-of-innocence Also tagging you because you were interested in my idea.

Edit: Tagging a few more mutuals who might want to see this based on their reaction to my previous angsty work just in case, feel free to ignore. Or ask me to remove the tag if you want, no problem.

@silenzahra (remember, no rush) @c-lavanda @jell-o101 @stripetkattelalala54-gf

@luigixfanxayjay @itsavee4117

And you @giddlygoat just because you have a Luigi's Mansion AU and I thought you might appreciate this... Also because I'm a fan 👉👈

[freakingholland]

freakingholland's batboys headcanons part 2

dates and love languages edition!

A/N: hi cuties, here's another portion of my headcanons, please let me know if you want more! And as always - please let me know what you think about those! Also a disclaimer - I think all languages of love would apply but I thought it would be more fun to focus on 2 per person. Additional info! I have a dc event going on so if you want to request something now is the perfect time - post here :) Stay whelmed xx

questions/ideas here! - rules here my AO3 archive is here If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakinghollandmasterlist masterlist

Dick Grayson - quality time and acts of service

Loves going out on fancy dates, but his preferred dates are the stay-in ones. It’s more convenient and less energy-consuming but can be just as fun as being out and about.

He likes to order food, not because you both are too lazy to prepare it, but because it takes time. Sometimes it’s junk food, sometimes it’s proper meals from your favourite restaurant.

Most likely to bring home flowers just cause. Doesn’t matter if he’s running late from work, if he’s tired, absolute definition of if he wanted to he would!!!

Makes sure to buy plenty of snacks and drinks prior to the date night. Doesn’t spare money on food, dude’s got a proper appetite.

Usually wants to watch a movie, 90% of the time it just plays the role of a background noise (sometimes sleep just happens to take over entirely).

Loves catching up with you, likes to gossip as long as it’s not too derogatory.

Likes playing video games like it takes two, overcooked, stardew valley. Will watch youtube videos on games as well as streamers on twitch.

If the apartment is clean enough and you’re not expecting visitors he will propose doing a blanket tent. If your apartment could use cleaning then it’s a productive date aka cleaning night with music (beware he’ll deffo do a cartwheel in the living room).

Jason Todd - quality time and gifting

Jason loves going out on fancy dates. He likes the anticipation and more or less meticulous preparations for such dates. Genuinely enjoys watching you get ready and just chatting about everything and anything. Demands mirror pics before leaving.

It doesn’t matter what kind of entertainment you choose, he is willing to spend any money when it comes to having quality time together (not that other guys wouldn’t, it’s just Jason puts the most pressure on it). Cinema? Theatre? Going to a formal ball? Just tell him what you want to do (if you don’t he’ll make you talk).

If the date doesn’t extend to later-ish night time, he proposes the idea of making shopping stops along the way back home. His favorite stop Is definitely a book store (I know I know cliché but it’s fun to go to book stores isn’t it? Come on we’re all readers here! Doesn’t complain about going to drugstores or second-hands.

He has a favourite bakery with diabetic-friendly desserts (I hc Jay as a diabetic as I’ve mentioned here and here!). If you end up having a date at your own place he will bake something offbeat.

If you don’t feel like going out he will gladly snuggle with you and read a book. He just wants to be in the same room as you.

Have you seen that tiktok trend of eye-colored bracelets? Will buy materials for that and make them on a lazy night.

Tim Drake - quality time and physical touch

I feel like Tim is very much a fifty-fifty guy date types wise, totally depends on your energy levels. That aside he gives off major out-of-town weekend getaway type of vibes. 2 days off? Why not visit Paris?

He feels mentally supported by you and thus tends to plan little trips every couple of weeks to show his support. Sometimes it’s sightseeing in London for 3 days and sometimes it’s a trip to a hotel with a spa visit for an hour or two.

He realises how caught up and locked in with work he can be at times and feels guilty. When you go somewhere his devices are off (not entirely - for safety reasons).

Wants to hold hands every-freaking-where. If you’re not holding hands his palm is either on your thigh when sitting or draped over your shoulder. I don’t think you understand, he’s like a flypaper - I mean it!

If you end up having a date at home he would want to do some work here and there. Would need proper convincing to shove work aside – but it’s not impossible. It’s hard to resist snuggles with your partner when you’re hella tired.

Will whip out a board game for two. If it’s not strictly a date night will host a game night with the rest of the fam at your place.

[sugrhigh]

HOTBOX 2 - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

part one

summary- matt smoked with his best friends for the first time, and after you guys get home his dirty thoughts about you finally come to life

warnings- SMUT !! so don’t read if ur uncomfy, swearing, unprotected sex, slightly subby!matt

bff!matt x fem!reader

a/n: HEHE i had fun writing this so i hope you guys truly enjoy. i will be working on boy next door and a beautiful fall req i just received, but until those are posted my inbox is open for any comments, reqs, or sweet nothings xoxo

dedicated to the lovely @awsturn thank you for requesting!!!

@fawnchives @mattswrld @l1ttlefreakk @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick

“oh wow, matt.” nick can’t stifle his laughter as his brother walks through the front door with the rest of you.

he’s got his arm around your shoulder, leaning some of his weight on you as you move in unison. he promised he could walk fine on his own, but you insisted on being there just in case.

not that he minds the physical contact.

“what?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes finally focus.

“nothing you just look…very faded.”

“that’s because he is.” you reply for him.

“hey, so are you guys!” matt argues, and you nod your head absentmindedly as the two of you head past nick to the living room.

“yes, we are. do you want to sit?”

“are you going to?”

you laugh and untangle yourself from his arms once you’re beside the couch. “you don’t have to do everything i do, you know.”

his legs are far less shaky than they were before, but he plops down on the plush cushions regardless. the rest of the group is still chattering in the foyer, and he appreciates the few seconds of alone time he gets with you.

“just wanted to make sure you weren’t leaving.” matt shrugs lazily in response.

“i’m literally spending the night dork.” you remind him, turning to head into the kitchen.

you’re unknowingly giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walk, covered only by those thin little yoga pants, hips swaying back and forth like you’re taunting him on purpose.

he has to force himself to look away, to try and put an end to all of the filthy thoughts churning in his mind. he shouldn’t be thinking them, especially not about one of his best friends.

but matt is too fried to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you. he always has. it’s just harder to hide how much he wants you when he can barely remember how to breathe.

it’s pretty late, so chris and nathan announce that they’re going to his room to play video games. the pair are already bounding down the hall as you return to the living room, equipped with a bottle of water in one hand.

“where the hell are they off to?” you ask with a grin, passing him the drink.

“going to play fortnite or something.” matt replies, taking the water into his own trembling hands.

he tries to ignore the way his fingers pass over yours, tries not to wonder if you feel the same spark that he does just from a simple touch. luckily, nick enters seconds later which relieves some of the tension.

he watches his brother wrap you in a quick hug. “i have to finish editing, but i’ll see you in the morning.”

“you better be up in time for mcdonald’s breakfast.” you point an accusatory finger at him as he heads to his room laughing.

“yeah, yeah, wake me whenever. goodnight matt, drink that water.”

he hears the door click closed a second later, his eyes trained on you as you move to sit down beside him. your thigh is inches from his, but you’re still too far away for his liking.

“are you sleepy?” you ask him as you settle down against the cushions, finally meeting his gaze once you’re comfortable.

“not really.” he finds himself smiling at you, for no real reason besides the fact that he loves you.

you tilt your head to the side, studying him with a look in your eyes that indicates you’re amused. “okay, how are you then? enjoying it?”

his eyes are low and red, watching your lips as they move. he can’t stop thinking about your fingers gently gripping his thigh earlier, the confident tone in which you speak to him, how you handle yourself.

all of that mixed with the weed is making him incredibly turned on. he shifts a little, dropping the water bottle on the couch so he can use his hands to cover his lap.

“yeah, i’m enjoying it.” matt says quietly, unable to look anywhere besides you.

you furrow your brows a little bit, but your grin doesn’t fade, which makes him feel better.

“alright, what’s going on? i know you’re high and everything, but you’re acting a little too weird.” you accuse him, though your demeanor is light-hearted as you nudge your shoulder against his.

he shakes his head just slightly as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. “what do you mean? i’m totally normal.”

matt finds that his voice is just a little too squeaky and quick to be convincing, and he knows he’s not a very good liar, especially when it comes to you.

“come on, i know that’s not true. you can tell me anything.” you push, moving a little bit so that you can properly face him.

the light coming from the kitchen silhouettes your features beautifully, and he can feel the words crawling up his throat. it’s involuntary, but the truth is coming out either way.

“i already told you earlier.”

“what?”

“i just…want you.” he finally admits breathlessly.

this catches you completely off guard, considering you had pushed your previous conversation in the car to the back of your mind. you figured he was just tripping, only saying flirty things because he was so out of it.

your lips part like you’re going to speak, but nothing happens. matt studies your face for any kind of emotion other than shock, but he can’t read you, which makes him anxious.

“i’m sorry, fuck, i don’t know why i’m saying this shit right now, of all times, but you look so pretty and i just…i needed you to know because—” he stumbles over his words, which morph together in the wrong places.

“matt, matt, it’s okay.”

you put a hand on his thigh again, trying to let him know that everything is fine, and he literally twitches from the pressure of your palm being so close to where he needs you.

“don’t do that.” he hisses, unable to control the way he slightly bucks against your fingers.

but you don’t move, because you feel yourself throb at the sight of him growing hard in his sweatpants. all because you touched him.

“matt…” you tilt your head, trying to get him to look at you.

he exhales a long breath before he finally does, his faded eyes wider now, cheeks flushed and brown hair messy from the wind of the car ride home. he looks beautiful, your beautiful best friend.

but matt is way more. you need him to be more.

“are you sure you want this?” you say faintly, leaning in just enough for him to notice.

“do you want this?”

you nod your head slowly, staring at his pink lips, unable to stop wondering if they’re as soft as they look. so you meet him the rest of the way, your mouth meshing against his gently.

matt almost melts at the feeling, and butterflies erupt through his chest. he can’t believe this is happening. part of him wonders if he fell asleep, and is dreaming it all up.

it’s thrilling, how desperate you both are for more, how his tongue slips against yours so nicely, and he has to contain himself when you bite down on his bottom lip every so often.

you pull away and swing your leg over his lap so you can straddle him. he groans quietly underneath you, because your hips feel so nice on his that he already wants to combust on the spot.

and then you lean down to his ear, moving slowly against his hard dick, so close he can feel your breath tickle his skin.

“i’m gonna take care of that, baby,” you whisper, “but you have to be quiet. can you do that?”

matt nods eagerly and you kiss his neck in response, tugging at the skin lightly. his hands travel to your ass, gripping it tightly to force some more friction.

he feels you grin against his throat, and he has to hold back a moan from the combined sensation of your tongue and hips going to work.

you move up to his jaw, across his cheek, back to his mouth, and this time he smiles against your lips. kissing you is just so sweet, even when it’s sinful, and he’s so high and happy it's impossible not to.

you pepper him with a few more quick pecks before crawling off of his lap, crouching down between his knees. he’s already needy, missing having you on top of him even though you look gorgeous at his feet.

matt reaches out to smooth your hair, holding your head in his hand as his thumb brushes your cheek.

“are you real?” it leaves his mouth before he can think.

you let out a breathy laugh, turning your head to kiss the heel of his palm softly. “i’m real, i promise.”

the intimacy of the moment, just that small gesture, is making his heart slam against his ribcage.

you reach up to hook your fingers underneath the waist of his sweats, tugging them down to indicate he should lift himself. matt does just that, pressing his back against the couch so you can slide the soft material down to his ankles.

your run your hands up his thighs before you go to the band of his boxers, pulling so that his dick springs free. he’s already wet and straining, precum soaking his tip, and he’s a little embarrassed by the way you’re looking at it.

but you’re only staring because it’s bigger than you expected, possibly the biggest you’ve seen in person. you’re entranced as your fingers glide over his tip, spreading his wetness across the rest of the base.

“shit…” matt mutters under his breath, throwing his head back against the couch as he fucks himself into your hand slightly.

you love hearing him all breathless, watching his muscles clench in pleasure as you stroke him. but you can tell he’s already worked up enough, so you start to slow your movements to a stop before pushing yourself to stand.

his head snaps back up, surprised by the switch in pace, and then his eyes get wider. you slip your leggings off, reaching for the hem of your shirt after so you can tug it over your head and discard it with your pants.

he loves seeing you exposed like this, every curve, every gorgeous little detail that makes your body your body.

“my pretty girl.” he praises, completely pussy whipped already, and it makes you a little bit shy as you stand before him.

you just like matt so much, and hearing him compliment you in such a personal setting only confirms how much you need him.

“want you inside me.” you murmur, straddling his waist again, sliding your wet panties against his shaft lightly as you get situated.

“please, oh my god—” he’s choking on his own words as you push your panties to the side, lining him up with your entrance.

you sink down on him without warning, feeling that delicious and familiar pressure in your stomach as he fills you up. matt’s hands find their way to your ass again, in a state of complete euphoria from having you wrapped around him.

you both groan, and you lean in so you can attach your mouth to his, swallowing the sounds of your shared pleasure. he helps guide you up and down, slowly at first, admiring the way you squeeze his dick every time he’s fully inside.

“fuck, you feel so good matt.” you whine against his lips as quietly as possible, picking up the pace and moving your hips at a quicker speed, hands on the frame of the sofa to help you bounce.

“promise you feel better.” he manages to respond before having to bite down on his bottom lip hard to contain a moan.

you’re riding him so well, skin slapping skin together ever so slightly. matt uses one hand to tug your bra down so he can slide his tongue over one of your nipples. you arch into his wet mouth, enjoying the way he softly sucks on each of them, swapping every so often.

he loves having your tits in his face so much, and he knows he won’t be able to hang on much longer with the way you’re moving.

“m’close, oh fuck—” his eyes roll back as you rock against him as fast as possible, rotating your hips so he hits a different spot every time.

“that’s it baby, keep fucking me, let it all go.” you command, relishing in the wave that’s taking over you as well.

matt slams you down on him a couple more times before he feels his fingers lose their grip, shuddering as he finishes inside you, breathless and sweaty.

your own muscles tense and you dive into it, releasing all over his cock as you slow your pace due to the overstimulation. you’re also panting as you slide off of him, rolling over his leg so you can sit beside him for a minute.

“that was…wow.” matt sighs happily as the both of you readjust your underwear.

“agreed.” you turn your head to smile at him, leaning in for one more little kiss.

it’s short, but it’s still just as passionate as the ones that came before. you could do it all day, his lips are just that soft.

“we should probably get cleaned up. do you wanna spend the night in my room?” his voice is still hushed once you pull away, and there’s a certain weight behind his words.

“i kinda want to sleep in your room every night.” you reply honestly, and his face lights up again at the confession, because he feels the exact same.

“i think i would kinda like that a lot.”

[jjenthusee]

Late Night Talks Pt. 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: After posting the first part (linked here), I felt unsatisfied at the ending. Then after reading comments and reblogs, you guys felt the same. Great minds think alike! So I whipped out my phone, wrote out a couple lines and tried a couple edits that I thought would give these two a satisfying ending, but I realized that if I planned it, it didn’t feel right. So, I went off instinct and I hope this lives up to what you guys expect :D ( @nckcn your wish is my command hope you enjoy these two being clumsy again <3, @misadear i hope this qualifies as hurt/comfort <3, @janybabyy you wont have to buy a new pair of locks <3, and @heavysighing-dreamyeyes since you gave us a second part to your kitchen dances fic I had to do the same <3) as always comment if your comfortable, reblog, and ENJOY

Tags: Jason is clumsy, fluff worth vomiting over, anxious Jason, hurt/comfort ;D

Word Count: 2.6k

Your back hurt, your head ached.

The back of your eyes stung as you tried to open them, the sun’s rays engulfing the entire couch.

At some point in the night you must have crawled up from the intense crying session you had on the floor.

The puffiness surrounding your eyes weren’t going to be fun to get rid of. Nothing like cold spoons to start your morning.

Your mind swirled as you sat up, slowly moving yourself into a sitting position. Bracing your feet to touch the cold floor, but it was soft and fluffy.

You leaned forward, looking down to find a blanket had fallen, sprawled in various folds and flattened as your feet rested on it.

“Did I grab a blanket last night?” You asked yourself, standing up, wondering for a second in confusion.

Then you glanced at the window where the bright sun rays invaded the room. It was shut, but not locked.

Weird. You thought.

Your face suddenly contorting as the memories flooded in. One by one, hearing your voice from last night flood your head like your own mind wanted you to face the consequences.

You sighed into the air, finally bending down to remove the blanket from the floor. Neatly folding it and placing it where you once laid.

You slowly rubbed at the fabric, mindlessly repeating the movements as you thought to yourself.

“He came back.”

You had memories of him visiting your drinking session and Jason had left clues that he had came back from suddenly leaving. He didn’t have to, but the blanket, the clean coffee table, and unlocked window meant he had cleaned up. He got you to bed. Took care of you.

“Shit.” You breathed out. “He must have saw and heard everything.”

You groaned, rubbing your hands down your face.

You needed some cold spoons and some medicine.

—��

You had to give it to yourself, despite the horrible drunk late night confession, you were glad it only started your weekend. You couldn’t imagine going to work the day after everything.

You could safely rot throughout your day, wasting the day away from your mistakes.

So after a good look in the fridge, you settled for leftovers and a half drunken apple juice. Interesting combo, but you just needed something to digest.

The rest of the day went by as uneventful as your morning.

Laying on the couch, aimlessly watching videos on your phone, reading random posts.

Recovery was awful, especially a mental one.

How were you going to talk to Jason? Would he ever come back? Would you have to fake a robbery scenario? No, that was a bit much.

As you aimlessly thought, yogurt and spoon in hand, the sound of a latch broke your focus.

Click.

Heavy boots hit the floor, scaring you as your head moved to the sounds.

You were wrapped in the same blanket from that morning, a small yogurt stain adoring it, but all the same.

“Jason?” You called out, stunned.

He was frantically walking to you, full Red Hood gear, red helmet on his head rather than a domino mask.

He had a hand full of paper bags in his hands. He stopped directly in front of you, looking down at you, a shadow casted on your body from his sheer mass.

“Jason—what? Why are you—“ You stammered, tilting your face in confusion.

“I don’t understand.” Jason exhaled.

“Wha—I mean, I don’t understa—“

“I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know why I have all these bags with me, but I couldn’t leave.” Jason shoved all the bags onto your lap at once.

You couldn’t do anything as the bags fell on one another, another falling to the floor, the contents spilling out. You watched because Jason blocked the coffee table to put down your yogurt and spoon.

“I don’t know. I bought you all this stuff, but I was only planning to get some toothpaste, but it bothered me so much. Last night, I had never heard you talk so much or seen you that gone. But I got worried then I walked to the medicine aisle, then I was walking by the snacks—“ Jason rambled, pacing in front of you, not really understanding how everything escalated when he came to you.

Jason couldn’t hear you repeat his name, so you let him finish. You looked at the contents on your lap. Aspirin, cheeseballs, an ice pack, water, and many more items that you couldn’t look at because you wordlessly held yogurt at the surprise intrusion.

“—then the guy at the cash register was looking at me funny, like ‘What? You don’t see vigilante’s shop at midnight?’ This is Gotham for crying out loud, but I was worried you wouldn’t take care of yourself, although I think it was my fault.”

“Jay, breathe.”

Jason took a quick breath, unconsciously obeying you.

“But that isn’t why I’m here. I couldn’t understand anything that night.” Jason stopped pacing and faced you directly.

After staring at each other for a second too long, you exhaled, motioning Jason to sit next to you with a spoon still in your hand. The couch dipping from his weight and the paper bags leaning toward him.

“I’ve repeated that conversation a million times in my head, but every time I got to the end, it bothered me so much.” Jason frustratingly told you.

You met, what you assumed to be Jason’s stare, from under the helmet, modulated breaths falling with his chest. You looked at your red reflection, watching the tiredness in your eyes. You looked awful.

“Why are you bothered, Jay?” You asked, finally putting the yogurt and spoon down since your visitor stopped pacing.

A lot was happening right now, but in some ways you were relieved that Jason came back. Frantic, but you could deal with that.

“I couldn’t reject you. It didn’t even cross my mind.” Jason admitted, helmet expressionless. You wondered if he could have said any of this without his helmet shielding his face, his expression.

“I told you, I would let you ruin me.” You answered. Watching his movements, trying to find any sign of what he truly wanted.

“But I don’t deserve it. As long as I have this scar marking my face, I won’t be worthy enough for you.”

“I disagree.” You soothed. You kept your voice calm, trying not to frighten Jason and his sudden vulnerability.

“Why?!” Jason nearly yelled in disbelief. “I don’t understand how you can love me when I haven’t done anything that deserves it!”

Jason was breathing rapidly, his modulator breaking in and out.

You carefully moved the blanket and the paper bags off you, moving yourself closer to Jason. You moved your hands up, making sure they were visible to him.

“I’m going to remove your helmet. Are you okay with that, Jason?” You waited, but no answer came out of the man in front of you. “I’m going to remove it because I want to see you and make sure you’re breathing okay, okay?”

He didn’t answer again.

You meticulously moved to his face, moving his helmet up, sections of Jason’s face becoming visible to you. Messy and matted hair covering his head and forehead.

You settled the helmet next to you.

His eyes shifting anxiously, his body looked like it was almost vibrating.

You stood up from the couch, slowly kneeling on the ground in front of Jason, carefully closing yourself in between his legs. Leaving enough space between the two of you, so you didn’t touch.

Now that you were in front of him, you locked onto his eyes. Making sure he was paying attention to you. You took deep breaths, guiding Jason to do the same. At first, he clumsily puffed, but once he balanced his rhythm with yours, his shoulders were evening as they lowered the more he calmed himself.

You didn’t want to break any boundaries because he was overwhelmed. You wanted to calm him, not heighten his current state.

With a steady breath, you laid your hands in your lap, keeping your eye contact with Jason.

“I don’t mind all the gifts, I’m happy you got them for me. I appreciate them because I know you thought of me when you bought them. The water, my favorite snack, and the medicine, but what I truly want right now is you.”

You kept your voice as normal as possible. Trying to show Jason that vulnerable conversations were okay, they were more than okay. They should be okay.

“You are already worthy enough of my love, Jason. More than worthy. I’m proud of you, that you tried to convey it to me too. I have things I need to work on as well.”

You smiled at Jason, gazing up at his head drooped down to you. You were glad he was okay with the closeness, the intimacy.

“I didn’t tell you my feelings the right way.” You continued, a chuckle bubbling in your throat. “I promised myself to do this sober, if I got the chance again, no wine in my system this time.”

Jason weakly smiled like the sound of your laugh calmed him. His hair drooping down to his forehead. He had leaned forward enough to rest his hands on his knees.

The more you talked to him, the closer he was getting to you. It could have been unconscious or he intended for it to happen, but he was drawn to you like a magnet.

“No, no, no.” Jason whispered as he shook his head from side to side. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I should have said it better and at a pace you were comfortable with.”

Jason didn’t respond. He was at a loss for words, not really understanding what direction he needed to address things.

So you guided him, letting him take his first steps into emotional vulnerability.

“I would like to know how you’re feeling. You can tell me things like if I’m overwhelming you, if I need to clarify anything, or anything you can think of. Because that’s the best part of all of this, we get to learn about each other. I get to understand who Jason is and you can learn as much as you want about me.”

Jason meekly reached his hand out to you. Slowly, carefully like he didn’t know if his body was capable of being gentle, but the fears left him once he touched your face. His fingers cupping your cheek.

Nervously watching your reaction, he was anticipating you to pull back, to react with disgust. But you sat there, staying the same way you did.

Then once he felt better, more at ease, he moved his hand further to you, his hand was large enough that some of his fingers touched behind your ear, rubbing at your hair line.

You closed your eyes, exhaling at the relief that he was okay, that he was initiating a new step in your relationship.

You focused on the small rubs from his thumb. Unconsciously leaning into it, Jason simultaneously sucking in a breath.

He was shocked that you let him do this. Numerous times was he close to grabbing your hand, wiping your tears when you cried, and touching your hair. He had restrained himself every time the thought distracted him, but now that he got a small taste of heaven, he didn’t know if he could ever live without it.

“That night…” Jason hesitated.

You opened your eyes, slowly blinking your eyelashes to look up at him.

He lost his breath again, seeing you sitting there, paying attention to him, anticipating what he was going to say.

“That—that night I did come back. It probably wasn’t a good idea after what happened, but I wanted to see you. You were sound asleep, your face drying from the tears and I helped clean up.”

You carefully listened, letting Jason talk as slowly or as much as he wanted.

“I carried you onto the couch and I covered you with a blanket. And I left, but I didn’t go far. I spent a while sitting on the roof of the building across.” Jason’s eyes softened as he spoke, reminiscing.

“I had to carefully think of everything you said. I was so scared that I almost left and never came back. But when I was ready to run, I couldn’t get the image of how hurt you were, crying into the couch.”

You placed your hand over Jason’s. Both warming your cheek.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you going through that again. Without me.” Jason’s voice hardened, frustrated with his thoughts and contradictions. “But, you also don’t need me. You deserve better.”

“And you are my ‘better.’ You see a version of me that I hate, but you still treat me as I am. I feel safe with you, you lift me up in ways I don’t have the words to describe. I don’t deserve you, Jason.”

Jason moved down to the floor with you, joining you in a kneel, his knees on the sides of yours, demonstrating the sheer size difference.

He cupped your face in both of his hands, his face close to yours, a serious look in his eyes.

“No, you’re perfect. You’ve even accepted me.” He trembled again, not the same as his anxiousness from before. A gentle tremble that embodied all his emotions, his tenderness.

“Jason, you love so much. You love so much that you can’t handle all of it in your heart and I admire that about you. You care about so many people and things that you end up hurting a lot. I want to be there next to you, hurting along with you.” You inhaled, your lungs and throat stinging from your need to tell Jason all your feelings. “I want to live a life filled with your love. I love you, so so much that it hurts.”

Jason wiped your tears with his thumbs. He leaned in, brushing his lips near yours, his eyelashes nearly touching his cheeks as he looked at you.

“I love you too, I want to see you make mistakes, smile when I think of you. I can finally breathe when I’m next to you.”

You trembled at Jason’s words. The raw vulnerability he was giving you.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. And you were wrong. I want to be next to you. You said it felt right and I believe it too. I know you told me not to tell you, that it would ruin you, but I want to ruin you.”

Jason breathed, the air touching your lips that left his.

“I’m selfish too because I want every part of your life.” Jason whispered onto your lips.

“And you can have it.” You whispered back.

Then Jason leaned in, taking all the breath from your lungs as he kissed you. Your head leaning back at the sweet weight of him.

It was perfect, the two of you kneeling toward one another, your face held in Jason’s hands, his body pulling you in.

As you lost your breathe, your legs wobbled from all the want radiating from the man in front of you.

You leaned away, panting, pausing from the possibility of consuming all of Jason’s love at once. A beautiful overwhelming feeling.

Jason held you, not wanting to part an inch further. He watched you take your breaths.

“You’re breathtaking.” He lulled, kissing your eyes, your nose, the corner of your mouth.

You giggled at the brief kisses. Holding onto his arms, feeling the muscle flex underneath.

After endless kisses, you slept well in the arms of the man you love, tangled in the cushions of the couch that witnessed the end of a relationship and the start of another.

[hyperobsessedd]

Joost Klein x Reader hcs

Joost x gn!reader

Summary: just a lot of very fluffy and general hcs about dating joost

This is my first real post on the account so I’m lowkey scared but here we go

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You and joost first met at a coffee shop

It was late at night when he walked in, you were alone working on something and he had came to edit a music video

You were in a cozy little corner that had a couple pillows and he sat next to you and started talking to you

You guys talked for hours before realizing that it was ten minutes before closing

He offered to walk you home and continued to chat with you

Before getting to your building you gave him your name and number

It’s been about 9 months since then and he asked you out on month 3

Even though you two have conflicting schedules he always try’s to make time for you

He’s very loving but sometimes that can turn to clingines

He loves to cuddle and just like to touch/be around you

It’s always a struggle trying to get out of bed in the morning because no matter the weather that man will always be hugging you in his sleep

Sometimes in the middle of the night he’ll turn around and bring you with him

Both of you love listening to music even if the genres each of you like are very different

If you guys have time before bed you’ll show each other different songs and artists each of you like

Even if it isn’t your cup of tea you’ll always try to listen and try to find things you like about the song

He isn’t the best cook but he trys

A couple of weeks ago he tried to be romantic and have a date night

He attempted (keyword attemped) to make your favourite pasta but the noodles ended up overdone, the sauce was starting to separate, and the side salad he made had way too much dressing

You got home to the sight of him sweating, covered in sauce, and his glasses halfway down his nose

You tried to be supportive by trying the pasta by itself and the salad (the pasta tasted burnt and wet at the same time and the salad wreaked of Italian dressing)

It’s safe to say he hasn’t even gone near the stove since the incident, instead he eats microwave meals and uses the air fryer if he feeling fancy

He still loves doing things for you whether that be reaching for a plate on the top shelf or buying you everything you touch and glance at

His tall stature comes at both an advantage and a disadvantage

Whenever he wants your attention he’ll take whatever you're doing and either hide with it or raise it above your head until you start paying attention

But if he has to use your car or something adjusting the seat will take forever and be very uncomfortable

One of his favorite activities is bothering you in many ways like poking at you, asking you dumb questions, repeating your name multiple times and saying never mind when you answer him, the list goes on

The only way to get him to stop is just ignoring him, it may take long but the outcome is so worth

“Honey, sweetie, pretty, baby, hello can you hear me?” “Why are you ignoring me? You’re so mean” he says with the cutest pout on his face

He looks at you like a kicked puppy when you start to laugh at his reaction

“This isn’t funny I don’t why you’re laughing”

You shake your head and continue to work

His fashion sense is amazing tbh

Sometimes each of you will dress each other for different events or even just pick random outfits when y’all are bored

Having little fashion shows is always very fun because he’ll do his best strut and model face

Having him walk in some heels you found at a random thrift store I’d always super funny

He tries to do his normal confident walk but the heels make him look like he’s about to break his ankles

Self care nights/day are a normal part of your routine that he occasionally like to join in on

Using sheet masks, lip masks, eye masks, and clay masks and Joost is always very funny

“What are you doing and why does it feel so cold?”

“It’s just a sheet mask don’t worry” you smooth out the little dents in the mask before opening a lip mask, putting it on his pink lips

“Now what’s that” he mumbles

“It’s a lip mask now shut up and let me take care of you”

He also loves taking showers with you

Not even in a sexual manner, just being next to you under the warm water is super comforting

He loves scrubbing your back with whatever your favorite body wash is and vice versa

If you like to bake he will always gobble up whatever you make

If you have a signature dessert trust he will be asking you to make it every so often, especially after he finishes a tour

Same thing goes for cooking but making food for him is much more dangerous

He will eat whatever you put in front of him immediately and gladly ask for seconds

He absolutely loves everything you make and he isn’t picky about anything when it comes to you

After eating he’ll help you with cleaning and drying the dishes

After everything around the house is done you get to bed and joost immediately stops whatever he’s doing

You start to worry about whatever he’s thinking “what, do I have something on my face?”

“No, you just look beautiful is all” he looks at you in awe

Before you pass out he whispers his “I love you”s before continuing to caress the top of your head and your stomach

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Hope you liked it! I’m always open to feedback and suggestions

pic isn’t mine I got it from pinterest

Reblogs and notes are greatly appreciated

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

For a request:

Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!

Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear

I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.

I love your writing!

- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️

None Lacking Sins

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night

A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*  

You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.

“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”

“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence. 

Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs. 

Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed. 

Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.

You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.

“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”

You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it. 

“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”

“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”

Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!” 

Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing. 

“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout. 

“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.” 

“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”

“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.” 

“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 

“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”

“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself. 

You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit. 

Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.

There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary. 

You huff and roll your shoulders.

Maybe the day’s just getting to me.

“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.” 

The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words. 

“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed. 

The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn. 

“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.” 

Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases. 

“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.” 

“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”

“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.” 

Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler. 

But…

“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.” 

You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill. 

“I’ll take it.” 

“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”

“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”

“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”

“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”

“Excuse me?” 

Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.

Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.

“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?” 

The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry. 

The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.

“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.

“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”

“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.” 

“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.” 

Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague. 

“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?” 

The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot. 

Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.

“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.” 

A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek. 

“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.” 

It wasn’t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.

Tomorrow.

“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot. 

The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.

“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”

It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place? 

By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 

Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly. 

As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly. 

“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating. 

You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.

The signs of a well-lived and loved home. 

“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.

Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.

“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”

“Shut up.” 

“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”

From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him. 

“MacTavish!” 

Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.

In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth. 

“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”

“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!” 

“Johnny!”

—

The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock. 

“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?” 

“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”

Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”

Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately. 

He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders. 

“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”

You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.” 

“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.” 

Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump. 

Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself. 

“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off. 

Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine. 

Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted. 

You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still. 

When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes. 

A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils. 

He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in. 

Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol. 

Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.

Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.

The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”

“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.

“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat. 

Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.

“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder. 

“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.

“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.” 

Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.

“Move light.” 

The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders. 

Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.

“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!” 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you. 

At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’

“I—”

“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”

This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about. 

He barks your name, “Do you copy?!” 

“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”

The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders. 

“Spread out and find her!”

“Yes, Sir!” 

Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.

“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt. 

One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening? 

Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard. 

Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges. 

Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9. 

Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety. 

Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects. 

A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.

Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…

Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back. 

Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking. 

Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks. 

Don’t think about it—just get away.

It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.

It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything. 

What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt. 

The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face. 

“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound. 

“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.” 

What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.

“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him. 

He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.

If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.

“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.” 

“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips. 

Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more. 

“Ride’s waiting.” 

“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”

“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?” 

Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink. 

No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny? 

The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward. 

“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness. 

If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?

Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.

“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself. 

“Get in.” 

“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.

The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.

“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.

The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies. 

A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line. 

“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest. 

Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh. 

He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.

“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.

His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in. 

“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.

His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple. 

Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began. 

“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?” 

Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.

“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”

Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown. 

“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”

You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs. 

Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.” 

Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks. 

“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.

“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three. 

Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off. 

“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”

“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”

“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.” 

The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it. 

He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.

Christ, you’d had to kill someone. 

The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.

But for you…

Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.

“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt. 

He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.

“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.

“Aye.” He breathes.

“His blood’s all over the house.”

“It is.”

“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?” 

He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.

No one messed with his family and lived.

“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he? 

The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.

“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!” 

The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion. 

“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.

“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.

“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!” 

You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.

TAGS ||

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet​, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

[clarkevision]

George Clarkey | Flowers of Regret

Summary: George goes on a lads holiday where he is unfaithful...

George Clarkey wasn’t just my boyfriend; he was my best friend, my partner in crime, and the person who could make even the worst days feel bearable. His laugh, the way it lit up his entire face, was something I couldn’t get enough of. From the moment we met, I felt like I’d found someone who truly got me.

Our relationship wasn’t perfect—what relationship is?—but it was ours. We’d spent late nights talking about everything from his YouTube channel to our dreams for the future. He wanted to grow his brand, keep making people laugh, and maybe one day settle down when the time felt right. I loved that about him—how he balanced ambition with warmth, never letting the pressures of his rising fame change who he was.

So when he told me he was going on a lads’ holiday to Ibiza with Arthur TV, Arthur Hill, and Chris, I wanted to be supportive. They’d been planning it for months—a chance to unwind, let loose, and celebrate the success of their channels.

“I’m happy for you,” I said one night as we curled up on the couch.

“You sure?” George asked, looking at me with those big, brown eyes of his. “I know Ibiza’s got a bit of a reputation, but it’s just going to be chill. Beach, drinks, banter. You know how it is.”

I forced a smile. “Of course. You deserve a break. Just... don’t forget to call me sometimes, okay?”

He grinned, pulling me closer. “I’d never forget about you.”

The first few days of the trip seemed harmless enough. George sent me updates—pictures of the boys lounging by the pool with beers in hand, group shots of them at sunset, and videos of their ridiculous antics.

Arthur TV, ever the instigator, seemed to be leading the charge. One video showed him trying to get Arthur Hill to dance in the middle of a crowded club while Chris cheered them on. George was in the background, laughing so hard he was crying.

I smiled at the clips, feeling a little less anxious. This was the George I knew—the George who loved his mates but always made time for me.

“You’re behaving, right?” I teased one evening, sending him a selfie of me in pajamas.

“Always,” he replied with a winking emoji.

But as the days went on, his messages became less frequent. The photos stopped, and our texts turned into brief exchanges that left me feeling more disconnected than ever.

“Having fun?” I asked on the third night, hoping for reassurance.

“Yeah, all good,” he replied hours later. No emoji, no follow-up.

I stared at my phone, the sinking feeling in my stomach growing heavier with each passing day.

When George finally came home, I was relieved but also nervous. He walked through the door looking tanned and relaxed, his hair tousled in that effortless way that always made him look like he belonged on the cover of a magazine.

“Hey, babe,” he said, dropping his bags and pulling me into a hug.

I wrapped my arms around him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne, but something felt different. His hug wasn’t as tight as it usually was, and when I looked up at him, his eyes didn’t meet mine.

“How was it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.

“Yeah, it was good,” he said, shrugging. “Just the usual—beach, drinks, a bit of clubbing. Nothing too crazy.”

He kissed me quickly and headed to the kitchen, leaving me standing there, my heart sinking. Normally, George couldn’t stop talking after trips, reenacting every funny moment and showing me the footage he planned to use in his vlogs. This time, he seemed... guarded.

Over the next few days, the distance between us grew. George was quieter than usual, his energy subdued. He spent hours editing footage from the holiday, his headphones on as he stared at his laptop. I tried to give him space, but my unease was impossible to ignore.

One evening, as he sat on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, I leaned over his shoulder. “Can I see what you’re working on?”

“It’s nothing exciting,” he said quickly, clicking away from a folder.

My heart sank. “You always show me your edits.”

He hesitated, then gave me a weak smile. “It’s just rough stuff. I’ll show you when it’s done.”

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something.

That night, after George fell asleep, I did something I’d never done before—I opened his laptop. I told myself it was nothing, that I’d find the usual clips of him and the boys being idiots. But as I scrolled through the folders, my hands began to shake.

There, tucked away in a folder with the dates of the trip, were photos and videos I wish I’d never seen.

In one video, George was dancing with a group of people in a club. At first, it looked innocent enough—until I noticed one woman in particular. She was gorgeous, her dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, her smile bright and confident. She and George were pressed close together, her hands resting on his chest as they moved in sync.

Then came the kiss.

My stomach dropped as I watched George lean in, his lips meeting hers in a moment of drunken recklessness.

I slammed the laptop shut, my hands trembling.

The next morning, I confronted him. He was in the kitchen, making coffee, when I placed the laptop on the counter.

“Care to explain this?” I asked, my voice shaking.

George froze, his eyes widening as he saw the screen. “I—”

“You promised me,” I said, tears streaming down my face. “You promised you’d behave. That I had nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t know what happened,” he stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I was drunk, it was stupid—it didn’t mean anything.”

“But it meant something to me,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “You didn’t just hurt me, George. You broke my trust. You broke us.”

He stepped toward me, his eyes filled with tears. “Please, don’t go. I’ll do anything to make this right. You’re everything to me.”

I shook my head, backing away. “You made your choice in Ibiza. Now I’m making mine.”

As I packed my things, George sat on the bed, his head in his hands. I wanted to forgive him, to believe that it was just a mistake, but I couldn’t. Some lines couldn’t be uncrossed.

The days after I walked away from George were excruciating. Every corner of my apartment felt heavy with his absence—the cozy nights on the couch, the inside jokes, the sound of his laugh echoing through the rooms. But those memories were tainted now, overshadowed by what he’d done on that lads’ holiday.

My phone vibrated constantly, his name flashing on the screen more times than I could count. I ignored most of the messages, unwilling to face his words when my heart still felt so raw.

“Please talk to me. I’m so sorry.” “I miss you so much. I can’t believe I messed this up.” “You mean everything to me. Please give me a chance to fix this.”

The messages ranged from desperate apologies to quiet admissions of how much he missed me. I didn’t know how to respond. Part of me wanted to believe him, to hold onto the George I thought I knew, but another part of me couldn’t forget the betrayal.

One morning, I opened my door to find a bouquet of flowers waiting on my doorstep—peonies and tulips, a mix of soft pinks and whites. My favorites. Tucked inside was a small card in George’s handwriting.

“I know flowers can’t fix what I’ve done, but I wanted to remind you of how much you mean to me. I miss you more than I can put into words. Love, George.”

I stared at the card for a long time, my fingers tracing the words.

That same day, another message popped up on my phone.

“I left flowers for you. I don’t expect them to change anything, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how much you love them. I’m so sorry, and I’ll do anything to make this right.”

I didn’t reply, but I kept the flowers.

The next day, another delivery arrived. This time, it was a small box of my favorite chocolates, along with a handwritten note.

“I saw these and thought of you. Every little thing reminds me of you—every song, every place we used to go. I can’t stop thinking about how much I’ve hurt you, and I hate myself for it. You deserve so much better, but I want to prove that I can be better. I love you.”

The messages kept coming, each one a mix of remorse and longing.

“I miss your laugh.” “I miss your smile.” “I miss the way you’d always steal the blanket in the middle of the night and act like it wasn’t you.”

I hated how much his words tugged at my heart, how they reminded me of all the good times we’d shared before everything went wrong.

On the third day, George showed up at my door. He stood there holding another bouquet—this one bigger than the last—and looking utterly defeated. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he had the same messy, unshaven look he always got when he was stressed.

“Please,” he said softly, his voice cracking. “Can we talk?”

I hesitated, my heart pounding, but eventually stepped aside to let him in.

He set the flowers down on the table and turned to face me, his hands trembling slightly. “I don’t even know where to start,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to say, how to make you see how sorry I am, but nothing feels like enough.”

I crossed my arms, keeping my distance. “Words won’t change what you did, George.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me just because I’m saying sorry. But I can’t let this go without trying. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I ruined it because I was selfish and stupid. And I hate myself for that.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he continued. “I miss you so much it hurts. I miss waking up next to you, hearing your voice, seeing your smile. I miss us. And I’ll do anything—anything—to earn your trust back, even if it takes the rest of my life.”

I felt a lump form in my throat. “How do I know you won’t do it again?”

“You don’t,” he said honestly, his voice breaking. “All I can do is show you that I’ve learned from this, that I’m never going to let myself make such a horrible mistake again. You mean too much to me. I can’t lose you.”

Over the next week, George didn’t let up. He sent more messages—each one heartfelt and raw, never pressuring me, but always reminding me how much he cared.

“I saw a couple walking in the park today and thought of you. Do you remember that time we got caught in the rain and you laughed the whole way home? I miss that laugh.” “I’m not giving up on us. Not because I deserve forgiveness, but because you deserve to know how much I love you.” “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

One evening, as I sat alone in my apartment reading his latest message, something inside me shifted. His words weren’t just empty promises—they were full of vulnerability, of someone who truly understood the weight of what he’d done.

I picked up my phone and typed a single message.

“I’m not saying I can forgive you yet. But maybe we can talk.”

The reply came almost instantly.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

When George showed up the next day, he looked nervous but hopeful. We sat on the couch, the air between us heavy with unspoken feelings.

“I’m not ready to jump back into anything,” I told him honestly. “But I’m willing to see if you can prove yourself.”

George nodded, his eyes filled with gratitude. “I will. I promise you, I will.”

It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t a guarantee of a happy ending. But it was a start.

[lowkeyrobin]

hi could you please write smth about accidentally revealing your relationship with quackity? preferably with cc!reader <3

of course!! thanks for the request 🫶 ; ik I did a preference about accidentally revealing relationships but doing a little different thing and going in depth w it was fun!

QUACKITY ; softlaunch ❌ hardlaunch ✅

summary ; you and Alex accidentally reveal your relationship

warnings ; language, little bit of buzzed ranting, use of pet names (babe)

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You and Alex have been together for about ten-ish months, keeping it on the low since you'd been traveling around for QSMP meetups, events, and the Streamer Awards for a little bit.

You'd finally gotten home, your shared apartment with Alex, with Cellbit and Roeir tagging along. The three were planning to make a 'trying mexican candies' video in the morning while you were planning to edit and maybe stream til you felt tired enough to quit and sleep. The three guys sit out in the living room, watching some TV show as they sprawl out on the couch, buzzed from the aftermath of award winning.

You were more than proud for your boyfriend, but it being so late now, and your need for comfort after being overstimulated for hours on end, called for a little alone time. You sit in your office, the clock reading 1:30am as you hit the Go Live button on your stream.

You decided to chill out behind the closed door, just chatting with whatever viewers were still awake at this hour, or were just beginning their day, depending on timezones. After five minutes, you greet your chat, snacking on some cookies you'd picked up from the store before returning home earlier, a glass of milk sitting on your desk next to the plastic box.

You sit in your very comfortable chair with a QuackityHQ hoodie, with the signature duck in the corner and design on the back, and some long, patterned pj pants, colored dark blue and black with a floral design. They were thin enough to wear in the warm heat, which was perfect for you. You looked tired but didn't really feel that way, like your eyes were sewn open from adrenaline and happiness.

"Good morning, everyone" You chuckle, "Alex just won an award, feeling good! He, Cellbit and Roier got some drinks and have been watching TV on the couch, so sorry if you can hear them. I closed the door just in case but don't mind any shouting or music"

Your chat explodes with messages, congratulating you, even though you lost in your category, and spamming hearts and heart hands emojis. Someone sends in a small donation, asking for clarification why they were at your house.

"Oh, Alex didn't wanna drive all the way back to his place and he had his car parked here from earlier. He drove the other two and we all left together. They're staying the night" You nod, clarifying with a little bit of lying, not wanting to slip up.

You'd known for a while that Alex was just a secretive person over the smallest things, and he didn't know why. You were totally fine being open about your relationship with friends, but made sure to respect boundaries for him. He reassured you in his own panic that he wasn't embarrassed to be with you and didn't want to hide his love for you often.

He explained it in simplest terms as he was weirdly secretive and he didn't want his weirdo stans attacking you or only watching you for him, he didn't want to ruin your fanbase that you built from the ground up. You'd been friends since forever, a good percentage (if not all, then most) of your fans also watched Quackity's content, which kind of made sense to you, but you didn't question it.

"But yeah, it was fun, just like... there were so many people, and so much was happening all at once and shit. I'm just trying to calm down and get tired." You lightly smile, taking a bite of one of your cookies. "I'm so proud of everyone who won and everyone who was nominated, good night for everyone"

You sit and talk to your chat for a while, occasionally listening to the trio's laughter outside your office. Before you can even snap your head around to inform whoever entered that you were live, they were already speaking, slightly laughing, and stumbling.

"Babe, oh my God, I'm so sorry! I accidentally dropped one of your plates in the kitchen and it fucking shattered everywhere, I'm so sorry. I cleaned it up, I just wanted to tell you than wait for you to notice and make you mad, I'm sorry, Y/n/n"

Your jaw hangs slightly agape, and you stare with a silent expression. You slowly turn back to your stream, the chat absolutely exploding with messages. You saw probably a hundred first time chatters even making an expression about it.

"Lex, I'm live" You speak between your teeth, muting your mic. "Ah- uh, it's, it's fine"

He quickly regains his composure, staring over at you, then looking over to your PC, showing that you were a thousand percent live and five thousand people heard him say that. By the morning, it'd be all over Twitter and YouTube Shorts and TikTok, people were already clipping it.

"Shit"

"Alex, holy shit"

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, trying to rationalize what to do. Cell and Roier bust into the office as well, seeing both of you silent before asking, where you both talk over each other very loudly to try and explain.

They both look over to your monitors, confirming you were live. They both laugh in a light hearted way, looking to Quackity.

"You're cooked, dude"

"Rest in peace"

"You say that like I'm embarrassed to be with them, I mean, it's not like that... I think. Y/n, are you embarrassed to be with me? I'm not embarrassed to be with you, I wanna post pictures of us on adventures and experiencing shit so people can see us for us and what we are-"

"My brother in Christ" You sigh with a chuckle, rubbing your temples. "It's said and done, it's fine. And no, I'm not embarrassed to be with you" You turn back to your stream, unmuting yourself under the red LED lights and lamp on your desk.

You sigh and shrug before speaking, throwing your hands up halfway in defense.

"Y/s/n real"

[fanficlolsblog]

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

(i write for mainly gxg sorry. i also take requests so let me know if you want anything written.)

female celebrities!

taylor swift

HEADCANONS! here

drunk (non smut version)

summary: you're drunk and your girlfriend, taylor wants to take you home, which you try to resist.

casual (REWRITING!)

summary:

good luck, babe

summary: Y/N is in a complicated relationship with taylor swift, where she wants more than just fun, but taylor isn't ready to commit. after a tough conversation, Y/N decides to end things, realizing they deserve more than casual affection. though it hurts, Y/N feels a sense of freedom and relief after walking away.

the fan

summary: y/n, a dedicated swiftie, runs a popular social media account showcasing her edits and paintings of taylor swift. after being noticed by taylor nation, she’s invited to the eras tour. throughout the concert, y/n repeatedly catches taylor’s eye, leaving her flustered. backstage, taylor compliments y/n’s art and admits she couldn’t stop looking at her during the show. as y/n leaves, taylor runs after her to ask for her phone number, making the night even more surreal.

we don’t talk anymore

summary: falling in love with taylor swift felt like a whirlwind, but when the pressure of fame and her struggle with coming out grew too much, you broke up. as she tried to move on with travis kelce, you both admitted to missing each other, but her jealousy over your friendship with shawn mendes created tension. despite the distance, you both realized that your love story wasn’t over and that there was still hope for a future together.

all too well

summary:

i miss you, i’m sorry

summary:

loathe you

summary:

dress

summary:

all i want for christmas is you (WRITING!)

summary:

jenna ortega

HEADCANONS! here

the co-star

summary: on the set of wednesday, Y/N and jenna ortega, who have an on-screen romance, face tension due to jenna's aversion to Y/N. during a heated kiss scene, jenna’s unexpected passion creates an awkward situation, leading her to avoid Y/N for the rest of the day. Y/N is left embarrassed and uncertain about their strained relationship.

the co-star part 2

summary: the day after a tense kiss scene, Y/N and jenna ortega face awkwardness on set. jenna's avoidance creates discomfort, but a heartfelt conversation helps clarify the situation. jenna reveals she's dealing with personal issues, easing the tension and allowing them to start rebuilding their professional rapport.

yandere!unhealthy obsession

summary: after a brief encounter with jenna ortega at a meet-and-greet, y/n is surprised to receive a follow request and a message from her. what starts as a seemingly innocent exchange soon spirals into a possessive obsession, with jenna constantly messaging, showing up unannounced, and isolating y/n from friends. as y/n tries to distance themselves, jenna’s behavior grows darker, her obsession tightening like a trap, until y/n realizes that escaping her hold might be impossible.

coachella

summary:

hot n cold (WRITING!)

summary:

flawless

summary:

it’s always been you

summary:

strangers

summary:

watching horror movies

summary:

billie eilish

HEADCANONS! here

guess?

summary:

i could eat that girl for lunch

summary:

wasn’t it obvious?

summary:

boyfriend

summary:

lana del rey

HEADCANONS! here

cinnamon girl

summary:

flirt

summary:

will you still love me?

summary:

kiss me on the mouth and love me like a sailor

summary:

gracie abrams

HEADCANONS! here

i love you, i’m sorry

summary:

us

summary:

sabrina carpenter

HEADCANONS! here

taste

summary: your favourite artist, sabrina carpenter asks you to be in her new music video, ‘taste’, which of course you couldn’t refuse…

it’s not christmas without you

summary:

red wine supernova

summary:

we never go out of style

summary: y/n is caught in a complicated relationship with singer sabrina carpenter, who picks her up for a late-night drive. despite knowing their connection often leads to heartbreak, y/n can’t resist sabrina's allure. they share a passionate encounter, but y/n realizes they're stuck in a cycle of returning to each other. after their intense moment, y/n chooses to leave, aware that they will likely reunite again despite the pain.

i’m not perfect

summary: y/n develops an intense obsession with singer sabrina carpenter, feeling both admiration and jealousy. after meeting her at a performance, y/n’s fixation deepens as sabrina acknowledges their presence, making the attraction even harder to ignore. despite sabrina’s kindness, y/n struggles with the emotional pain of unrequited feelings, caught between admiration and the torment of knowing sabrina is out of reach.

demitra kalogera

HEADCANONS! here

sunday kalogera

HEADCANONS! here

the heart wants what it wants (WRITING!)

summary:

jennifer lawernce

HEADCANONS! here

just good friends

summary:

the interviewer

summary:

coffee?

summary:

emma roberts

HEADCANONS!

the babysitter (WRITING!)

summary: Y/N, a 19-year-old college student, gets a job babysitting actress Emma Roberts’ 4-year-old son, Rhodes. As Y/N cares for him, she starts to feel a growing tension between her and Emma. They share small, intense moments, and Emma admits that Y/N feels “different” to her. Though their conversation is interrupted, the unspoken attraction between them is clear, leaving things unresolved.

never too old

summary:

male celebrities!

timothee chalamet

HEADCANONS! here

no strings attached

summary:

i hate you

summary:

matt sturniolo

HEADCANONS! here

again

summary: you and matt have been so called 'friends' for years even though there is something clearly there. matt is sick of being just friends and decides to do something about it…

teachers pet (REWRITING!)

summary: on the first day of school, Y/N encounters Mr. Sturniolo, a young, charismatic new english teacher who draws her attention with his engaging manner and attractive appearance. during a private discussion after class, his intense concern and personal focus create an underlying tension, leaving Y/N both intrigued and unsettled about their evolving relationship.

sick

summary:

the grudge

summary:

cardigan

summary:

chris sturniolo

HEADCANONS! here

idfc

summary: y/n is stuck in a toxic relationship with chris sturniolo, who often disappears and returns drunk. despite knowing he's not truthful or committed, y/n can’t let go. one night, after he comes back, they share an intimate moment, and she asks him to lie and say he loves her, even though she knows it’s fake. unable to break free from her feelings, y/n accepts the lies for the fleeting comfort they bring.

frat boy

summary:

i trusted you

summary:

invisible string

summary:

characters!

wednesday addams

HEADCANONS! here

just a little bite

summary: Y/N, a vampire, returns to wednesday addams' dorm after a day out, sensing her girlfriend's hidden frustration at being apart. as Y/N teases wednesday about her vampire nature, they share playful intimacy through biting. their connection deepens, revealing Wednesday’s vulnerability and desire, ultimately strengthening their bond in the shadows.

smoking

summary: you and wednesday addams, your stoic roommate, share an unspoken romantic tension. one night, she catches you smoking and warns you about the dangers, impulsively throwing your last cigarette out the window. angry, you confront her, but the confrontation reveals deeper feelings between you two, culminating in a tentative kiss that changes everything.

jealous girl (WRITING!)

summary:

mine

summary:

i despise you

summary:

the perfect girl

summary:

ethan landry

HEADCANONS! here

i did this for you, for us (WRITING!)

summary:

that boy is a monster

summary: y/n becomes dangerously infatuated with ethan landry, who hides a dark, monstrous side behind his charm. despite knowing he’s dangerous, y/n can’t resist the pull of his intense gaze and possessive nature. as ethan slowly consumes y/n’s heart and soul, y/n falls deeper into the twisted relationship, unable to escape the hold he has over them. in the end, y/n willingly lets ethan devour their heart, accepting the monster he truly is.

boyfriend

summary:

nerd

summary:

yknow i’ve always had a thing for you

summary:

kiss me

summary:

you belong to me

summary:

jill roberts

HEADCANONS! here

come here dressed in black

summary: Y/N discovers that her girlfriend, jill roberts, is ghostface. despite the horrifying truth, Y/N feels a strong attraction to jill, especially when she reveals herself in the ghostface costume. caught between fear and desire, Y/N struggles to leave the dangerous relationship, unable to resist jill's dark allure.

i won’t hurt you

summary:

you’re mine

summary:

can’t even

summary:

ghostface

HEADCANONS! here

pretty girl (WRITING!)

summary:

billy loomis

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

stu macher

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

tara carpenter

HEADCANONS!

caught

summary:

let’s ruin the friendship (WRITING!)

summary:

the roommate

summary:

my axe (WRITING!)

summary:

vada cavell

secret

summary:

astrid deetz

just friends

summary: you find yourself caught in a complicated relationship with astrid deetz, who is spending time with another guy named jeremy. as you navigate your feelings of jealousy and confusion, you confront astrid about her intentions, leading to an emotional struggle between love and heartbreak. despite your desire to be together, it becomes clear that the timing may not be right, leaving you to question what you truly mean to each other.

do i wanna know?

summary:

jackie taylor

HEADCANONS!

am i making you feel sick?

summary: y/n alone in the wilderness, applies lipstick to jackie's lifeless body and is visited by jackie's ghost. jackie hints that your true hunger is for her, not just for food. as jackie's spirit fades, y/n is overwhelmed by the realisation of jackie's death and her own deep grief.

katniss everdeen

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

finnick odair

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

tori vega

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

jade west

HEADCANONS!

leaving tonight

summary:

quinn fabray

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

rafe cameron

HEADCANONS!

ruin the friendship

summary:

max mayfield

HEADCANONS!

nothing yet…

eleven

HEADCANONS!

first kiss (WRITING!)

summary:

tate langdon

nothing yet…

madison montgomery

i insist

summary:

living dead girl

summary:

brooke thompson

nothing yet…

lee (bones and all)

nothing yet…

michael myers

sick love story

summary:

chop, chop, slide

summary:

leon kennedy

nothing yet…

bela dimitrescu

nothing yet…

debra morgan

nothing yet…

dexter morgan

nothing yet…

rick grimes

nothing yet…

daryl dixon

nothing yet…

vanessa afton

nothing yet…

pyramid head

nothing yet…

[nox140497]

A Midnight Crisis

Prompt: No

Request: No

Summery: Colby has a panic attack late one night.

Prompt Number: None

Pairings: Colby Brock x Female Reader

Masterlist

Prompt List

_______________________________

Colby shut his laptop with more force than intended and rubbed his tired eyes. It was past 2am, and he was no closer to finishing the script for his next video.

Glancing around the dimly lit editing room, stacks of notes and camera equipment stared back at him, each item representing hours of work ahead. The never-ending to-do list seemed to stretch into infinity as pressure and perfectionism gnawed away at his sanity.

A tapping at the door pulled Colby from his spiraling thoughts. "Sweetheart, come to bed," said his girlfriend Y/N softly. "You've been at it for hours."

Colby nodded wearily and followed her downstairs. As they curled up under the blankets, Y/N gently stroked his damp hair. "What's keeping you up?" she asked softly.

Colby took a shaky breath. "I just feel so behind. If I don't post at least twice a week, the algorithm will bury me. And the comments..." His voice cracked. "People are always criticising - the lighting, my jokes, who I film with, everything. I try so hard, but it's never enough."

Y/N pulled him closer. "You work like three men already. No one achieves perfection, at least of all in a few hours each time."

Colby knew she was right, but the churning anxiety refused to subside. What if his viewers lost interest? Sponsors pulled funding? It had happened to bigger creators - he wasn't immune.

"I'll never sleep at this rate," he sighed. Reluctantly climbing out of bed, Colby headed back to his prison of screens and cables. Y/N followed, concern etched on her face.

Back in the office, Colby began rewriting his script frantically, deleting and retyping sentences over and over as familiar panic started clawing its way up his throat. What if he picked the wrong topic? Messed up the comedic timing? He typed so fast his hands began to cramp.

A stabbing pain in his chest made Colby gasp for air. Black spots danced before his eyes as the walls closed in, trapping him under the crushing expectation to perform.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him from behind. "Colby, you need to breathe," urged Y/N calmly. She took his trembling hand and placed it on her chest. "In and out, slowly. I've got you."

Colby fought to match her even breaths as crushing anxiety morphed into racking sobs. "I'm losing control," he cried into Y/N's shoulder. "What if I can't do this anymore?"

"Shh, it's okay," soothed Y/N gently. "Come, let's get some air."

Walking unsteadily through the silent house, Colby slowly began to regain control of his breathing in the cool night. Y/N never let go of his hand, grounding him through the lingering panic.

On the back porch, they sat close together, watching the stars. An uneasy silence stretched between them as Colby gathered the courage to speak.

"I'm scared this will break me," he admitted shakily. "I pour everything into videos only to be constantly worried if it's decent enough. It's not making me happy anymore - it's destroying me." A single tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N gently wiped it away and took his face in her hands. "You are so much more than the metrics or comments say. I see how talented and kind you are every day. This channel was supposed to be fun, so please don't let it ruin your health or us."

Her earnest eyes conveyed nothing but compassion. All the resentful feelings Colby harbored towards himself began to melt away under Y/N's unconditional love and support.

As the first light of dawn broke over the trees, Colby finally felt some of the crushing weight lift. Exhausted but calmer, he leaned into Y/N's shoulder, grateful beyond words that she saw his true worth, not defined by meaningless views or numbers on a screen. This was only the beginning of getting his life back on track, but with her by his side, Colby believed things could get better.

A week had passed since Colby's panic attack, and he was beginning to feel more like himself again. Taking time completely away from YouTube at Y/N's suggestion had brought unexpected relief.

Without daily stresses to focus on, Colby rediscovered long-lost interests like photography and gardening. He spent afternoons going for hikes with Y/N, marvelling at nature's beauty through fresh eyes. Their home filled with snapshot memories from each outing, captured joyfully on film.

With structure and rest, Colby's anxiety gradually released its grip. For the first time in months he slept well, free from dreams about botched collabs or unkind comments. Y/N watched him awaken each day looking more energised, reminding her gently of the importance to maintain this lifestyle.

One sunny afternoon found Colby immersed in tending roses along the fence border. As he trimmed away wilted blooms, flashes of memories surfaced - cramming scripts at 3am, editing well into dawn, forgetting to eat or take breaks. Exhausted, sore hands moved on auto-pilot to create a never-ending stream of content.

His downward spiral had been gradual yet forceful, spurred on by perfectionism and fear of slipping in the algorithm. But Y/N's care dragged Colby kicking and screaming from that dark routine, revealing how lonely the path of overwork had become. A cold shudder passed over him at the realisation of how close he came to burning out completely.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Colby's gaze fell upon Y/N watching tenderly from the porch. Her bright smile warmed his soul, reminding him that life held more meaningful things than views or trends. Carrying the gardening tools inside, Colby collapsed on the couch beside her with a happy sigh.

"Feeling better?" she asked, handing him a cool drink. Colby nodded gratefully. "I'm amazed at the difference a week makes. Things seem clearer now."

He stretched comfortably, thoughts drifting back over stressful nights locked away working endlessly to please abstract metrics, while neglecting real connection. That loneliness had almost swallowed him whole.

"Thank you for pulling me back from the edge," Colby told Y/N earnestly, taking her hands. "I lost sight of what really matters, but you've given me a new perspective."

Y/N leaned in for a lingering kiss. "I'm just glad to have you here, happy and healthy. Promise me you won't let it get that bad again?" Smiling, Colby promised to always communicate how he felt from now on, never bottle things up until breaking point.

That evening, the couple discussed potential strategies for Colby to maintain wellbeing going forward. Setting stricter schedules with enforced breaks, delegating tasks, limiting social media use - simple changes aimed at sustainably managing pressure and burnout prevention.

Colby knew regaining control would take diligent effort. But with Y/N by his side, nothing felt impossible anymore. Her patience and reassurance instilled a calm confidence in his ability to return renewed, without sacrificing mental wellness. The following week, Colby finally felt ready to resume video making.

Armed with new perspective and healthier habits, Colby crafted a short update video explaining his break to concerned viewers. Speaking candidly about mental health awareness and balance, he saw more supportive comments roll in than ever before. The positive reinforcement served to cement Colby's resolution to prioritise fulfillment through diverse passions instead of basing self-worth on one metric's fluctuations alone.

Weeks turned to months of sustainable creativity. True to his word, Colby kept communication lines open with Y/N, never hesitating to discuss feelings or setbacks. With her encouragement he joined local photography groups and took on freelance opportunities to spread creative wings beyond YouTube alone.

Most importantly, Colby learned to be kind to himself through both triumphs and failures. Looking back on a time when anxiety nearly took control of his life, he was profoundly grateful for Y/N's unconditional love and support. It was this care that gave him strength to overcome adversity and regain balance, emerging healthier and happier than ever before.