#schlatt x reader

[doubledizzy1258]

JSCHLATT IN THE JACK MANIFOLD "ranking the BEST of British Memes (w/ Jschlatt)" OHHH MYY GOODDD HES SO FUCKING FINE IN THAT VIDEO. HES SO FINE I LITERALLY CANNOT

gnhhggg dude i need him to crush me

[gummysharklover]

POP PRINCESS MASTERLIST °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ !

INCOMPLETE

summary: ᯓ˚࿔ you're a world-famous pop star, and you fall for Schlatt

❤︎ i (6.8k)

❤︎ ii (5.7k)

❤︎ iii (coming soon!)

[ohbabydollie]

Schlatt with a gf who doesn't like flowers

She mentioned it before they started dating. I'd like to imagine he would give her a bouquet of plushies (plush toys). Or a bouquet of food like chocolate fruit or fried chicken

Hey if someone gave me a bouquet of fried chicken or chicken nuggest I'd be VERY happy

i love those fruit bouquets with chocolate strawberries, they always look so fucking good

You had off mentioned before, you don’t like flowers bouquets

From the maintenance when you get them to having to throw them out because they don’t last as long as you’d wish

Schlatt kept this in mind when he found out

Then when you started dating he had been thinking all about your future anniversary

That’s when he finally got a great idea: chocolate strawberry covered bouquet

Of course a few other fruits mixed in as well in fun shapes

So he stayed up all night trying to figure out how to make those bouquets

Was so happy seeing how much you liked them and how you started immediately eating them

[mister-sandwich]

*crawls out of a pit in the ground like a little goblin*

I love that man. I love the way he sings. I need him.

*falls back into the pit*

[manticore-fangs]

god the thought of uncut schlatt is actually making me drool omg jerking him off and everytime you pull back the head pops out kjhgfd idk if this is even true but I've heard somewhere that being uncut makes the head more sensitive and god getting him in tears whining and begging just by sucking on the head hehe

yeah.. mhm. i wanna suck the tip of his cock so gad, i want to play with his balls using my hand. i wanna pull back and have his head pop out so i can just suck on it and lick at the salty pre-cum.

idc if its not true! yes!! he is so, so sensitive. yup.. yeah idk.. this is making me feel a lot rn... <33

[bio-hazard]

listening to schlatts santa claus is coming to town cover and thinking abt my hallmark post and like

reader gets a job like serving or tending bar at this place that does live music around the holidays and there's this one singer who's there during a lot of your shifts and you love his voice, he's great as a performer! but he comes into the back while you're doing something and hears you singing and asks you to sing a duet with him. you tell him that, no sorry you're not that good at singing to people, and you're not that fond of the holidays. you're just here to make some extra cash.

he doesn't like this answer of course and every shift becomes a game of cat and mouse with him trying to coax you into singing with him (or at least just teasing you to bring down your walls) until eventually he says he gives up and at least wants to take you out for dinner

it's really nice and on the way home, baby it's cold outside comes on the radio and he just gives you A Look and you sigh and know every word and it's really cute

[pequins]

schlatt confirming ‘toots’ is his go-to pet name has made my week

schlatt writers abt to go crazy

[exactlymaximumgarden]

schlatt with a celebrity s/o. maybe you're famous from acting, from music, streaming, modeling, literally whatever. either way, you're famous in your own right.

so imagine schlatt is doing a simple gaming stream, specifically another drunk truck simulator. he has media share turned on to entertain himself while on the road, and his viewers are submitting the usual stuff they know will make him laugh. however, one submission throws him for a loop.

it's a thirst edit of you.

schlatt has to stop a second and watch, ogling at the screen as the edit plays. "god damn," he softly mutters under his breath. meanwhile, his truck slowly starts drifting to the wrong side of the road, half of chat laughing at his reaction and the other half screaming at him to pay attention to the drive.

"who sent that in? who sent that? that is- ope." schlatt quickly veers back into the correct lane. "that is not funny. do not send me edits of my girlfriend while i am on the road, okay?" he can't help himself as he starts dissolving into laughter. however, his cheeks have very visibly heated up. "i am not a distracted driver, chat! i will not become one of those... those drunk crashers they warn you about."

this, of course, only enables chat further. more and more edits of you are flooded into the media share queue, and every single time, schlatt can't take his eyes off you. he tries to play it off by laughing, yelling "STOP!" at chat, but he secretly loves it. any opportunity to admire you is a welcome one. however, finally, he pauses his game and playfully scolds the viewers.

"guys, guys. look, i love looking at (y/n) as much as you do. i do. but i really need you guys to curtail it for tonight, alright? i'm gonna flip the fuckin' truck again if i keep takin' my eyes off the game."

he squints at chat as the responses come flooding in.

"someone said, 'you know you like it, sclit.' i know i do! you got me, man, i do! my girl might kill me if i set a bad example on the road, though. y'know how it is."

[natspats]

do you ever think about schlatt popping in on your stream just to mildly annoy you sometimes (rare chance w jambo in hands) and stands in the back of the room like an anomaly (silly big guy!) and resder just ignores it while holding back their laugh-

aUGH I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE SILLY STREAM/RECORDING SCENARIOS AAAAA ngl they're so much fun to play around with teehee🤭🤭🤭🤭

-⁉️ anon

AHHHH I LOVE THIS THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN ⁉️ANON 🙏🏻

“alright chat, what are we doing today, what are we feeling?” you say after finally reading out all of your donations.

as you look through your game library, you aren’t paying attention to the chat box, until you see everyone spamming the same word.

“schlatt”

“SCHLAGH”

“schlutt”

“IS THAT SCHLATT?”

you open your obs window and look at yourself before-

you mutter a small “christ” and jump upon suddenly seeing your boyfriend behind you.

“🧍🏻‍♂️”

(this moment will definitely be clipped)

he stands behind you holding jambo, both boys staring straight into your camera, with no expression.

you let out a small “pfft” and a small breathy laugh before regaining your composure.

“why are you guys all spamming schlatt? is he in my chat?”

which makes chat go nuts,

“NO LOOK BEHIND YOU!”

“BEHIND YOU”

“HES JUST STANDUNG YHERE”

“JAMBO IS THERE”

you bite your lip with a smile before holding it down with a fake confused expression.

“what are you guys talking about? i think y’all are seeing things. you guys can be a bit crazy.”

“woman.” schlatt says out of nowhere as he stands there expressionless with his expressionless cat.

“HE JUST TALKED”

“WOMAN”

“HOW DID YOU NOT HEAR THAT”

“wowww and now you guys are hearing things? i’m kinda concerned for you…” you trail off 

“there’s no one there chat!! i promise” you give a cheeky smile and look straight into the camera the same as your boyfriend is doing.

a beat of silence, the music of your stream playing softly in the background. until its interrupted by-

“love you woman”

[renranram]

Maid dress

nsfw!!

schlatt jerking off to reader while she's streaming, obvi inspired when j bought wenston some maid outfits and people were calling him his sugar daddy lols

a/n ; 886 words :)

reader flaunts herself at the camera, spinning whilst she tries on the maid outfit schlatt had bought her, " chat, do i look pretty? " she smiles as she assembles the outfit

meanwhile schlatt was on the call with her, eyes immensely focused on her live stream, " jesus fuck, you look worse " he mutters as reader glares at him through the camera

" well, you bought this for me, so maybe it's not me who's the problem " she rolls her eyes at him as schlatt chuckles, not taking his eyes off his screen once

the two had been close friends for over a year now, meeting through, shamefully, the dsmp, the duo are very different ccs on their own, reader being more into makeup and gaming whilst schlatt's varies

ever since they first met on the server the two just sparked a connection, coming off as frenemies for the public, a banter of theirs but exactly off camera, it was a whole different story

schlatt is reader's sugar daddy

at first reader would just joke about being broke, " oh my fucking godd it's so pretty but i dont wanna waste my money ", " that's so fucking expensive ", " okay im broke " until schlatt got tired and actually offered her to be her sugar daddy

at first reader thought it was a joke, a silly new banter for them but nope!, every week, new parcels would arrive on the streamer's doorstep with small notes, but chat doesn't know that, chat doesn't need to know that

" fine, ill get you a new one done " he mumbles, as he scrolls through amazon, " anime french maid apron lolita fancy dress cosplay costume furry cat ear gloves socks set " he reads out the title causing reader to chuckle as they wear the stockings for the uniform

" oh it comes in pink " he added as reader smiles, " i like pink " she replies as schlatt scoffs, " of course you do "

as the girl sits down on her bed to wear the stockings, schlatt's eyes linger down on her bare thighs, enjoying the view as he leans back on his chair

" do you need something else too? " he mutters as reader gasps, " oh my gosh! you should buy me that uhm... blaire doll thing " she smiles as schlatt shakes his head, " blaire doll thing? " he repeats her, " the fuck is that? "

reader tries to wear the collar to complete the look, " it's like a doll! " she states as she grabs her phone to show off the picture

" that's an ugly looking doll " he mutters, as he gulps, looking down at his now hard on, unironically finding reader in a whole cat maid dress... hot

" more uglier than you are " she retorts as he chuckles, " guess no more doll for you then " schlatt replies, shrugging as reader gasps, now pouting

" im kiddingggg pleaseee buy me one? " she pleads looking at the camera as her live chat speeds up, " .. fuck.. " he groans out, not loud enough for his mic to pick up, him slowly sliding in his hand inside his shorts

" please please please " she continues, as she reads off the chat, " please jschlatt senpai " she bursts out laughing, mentally cringing as schlatt chuckles, " ..fine "

" yay! chat! we fucking wonnn! " she celebrates as she jumps around the frame, clasping her hands together, " we're the best at this shit " she shrugs, smug, unaware that the man she's in a call with is already jerking off to her

" reader.., think im gonna mute for a sec, gotta do something " he mumbles as reader nods, understanding, " bet, im gonna talk with chat for a bit " she smiles, as schlatt immediately mutes himself

" fuck.. what a fucking whore.. i didn't actually think she'd do a stream " schlatt chuckles, amused as he palms himself, as reader did what she said, interacting with her audience

" what a pretty slut holy shit " he chuckles, clearly amused as he bites his lip, his rough hand playing with his dick

" chat i look so pretty right? " reader asks, fixing her hair as chat spams yes, " you damn sure are " he mumbles, as he grabs the base of his cock, using his saliva for lube

" ah fuck, fucking.. so fucking pretty " he breathes out, his body shuddering slightly as he jerks himself off, his eyes never leaving her

" fuck.. fuck.. " schlatt throws his head back as he leans back on his chair, fastening his pace, " stupid fucking whore.. "

he moans out, lifting his shirt up, as he continues to palm himself at the sight of her, he's never gonna buy her those stupid costumes again

or maybe he'll rain her with more gifts, then maybe a flight to texas so she can show everything off to him... maybe

his lashes flutter, fastening his already fast pace as he continues to moan, " stupid fucking slut, .. shit... pretty- pretty whore " he stammers

he can feel his precum leaking as reader talks with her chat, innocent yet suggestive, that stupid maid dress, if schlatt can immediately fly to london, he fucking would, he'd immediately bend her over, not caring if she was streaming or not and fuck her like some animal

" ah fuck! " he moans loudly, his semen, spurting on his keyboard making a fucking mess, " shit... " he groans out

maybe instead of ordering her a new costume, maybe he'll fly her out instead

[ohmymalice]

Schlatt finding out reader watches edits of him (this is incredibly self indulgent)

"I'm too tired for this." He mumbled, feeling a bit groggy from waking up. He heard some music come from your end of the bed and looked over.

"Y/n...Y/n god you need to stop your midnight scrolling..." He yawned, shuffled to your side of the bed, holding you close as he watches you panic and quickly swipe away at the edits of him that you watched.

"Oh? If you wanna see me so bad you can just turn to my side of the bed, Bubba." He pressed his lips up to your temple, feeling a small smile as he kisses you.

"Thought you were asleep, didn't wanna wake you." You didn't hesitate pulling him closer, kissing his cheek. You nuzzled your face in the crook of his shoulder, letting his scent fill your nose.

"If you think I'm gonna move past the fact you were scrolling under #jschlattedits you are incredibly wrong." He chuckles as he grabs your phone, looking at your most recent favorited tik toks and seeing a wave of edits of him.

"I'm never gonna let you live this down."

And he stuck to his word indeed because the very next day when they filmed a chuckle sandwich episode, Ted brought up the topic somehow and Schlatt immediately lit up the moment he remembered the events last night.

"Ted— I got quite the damn story for you." He smirks as he remembers your sleepy face, how completely engrossed you looked as you watched edits, not knowing he was right behind you.

"My girlfriend— Y/n we've been public for a few months, she recently got into tik tok and started watching edits. I don't know how she found them, but she found edits of me and started saving them and I swear I've never seen her look at anything like that. It was as if she was trying to burn that shit into her memory, I couldn't help but laugh."

Ted stared into the lens of his webcam, a look that clearly stated how invested he was.

"Does she know she can make a folder on tik tok—" Ted asks and Schlatt cackles at the memory.

"Oh you fuckin' bet, god I'd make fun of her for it but if I was in her spot and she was famous and people made edits of her, I'd watch all of them too, folder n' all."

"You heard it here folks, Schlatt wants you guys to make edits of Y/n!"

A week passes and the new episode is out and soon everyone started making edits of Y/n (since schlatt requested)

It was late at night, she looked to their bed side table and saw it was around 1:11 am, she heard a familiar tik tok audio that made her snap her head towards Schlatt's side of the bed in interest. It's the audio of her favorite Schlatt edit.

She sits up a little and squints her eyes, trying to adjust to the lighting in front of her and realizes someone made an edit of her and Schlatt has been watching it on loop.

"Look who's watching edits of me now."

[storiesforallfandoms]

sitting on jschlatt's lap ~ h.c

warnings: rpf, some swearing, fluffy fluffy goodness, a little mention of smut but not much

he pulled you onto his lap the first time

you and a group of your friends were hanging out at someone's house, and you had gotten up just long enough to go to the bathroom

when you came back, someone had taken your seat

and there was no other available places to sit besides the floor

"move your feet, lose your seat"

schlatt had patted his lap and said, "i got a seat for ya here, toots"

you didn't think he was serious because, at this point, you weren't dating yet

but, as you tried to walk past him, he took hold of your waist and pulled you down onto his lap

you face was on fire the entire time

but he was so casual about it

it only took a week after that for the two of you to start dating, and every chance he could get, you were on his lap

he was streaming and wanted you to join? you were sat on his lap

watching a movie together? on his lap

hanging out with friends? his lap

fucking you stupid?

well...you get the point

he loved to have you on his lap so he could hold you

believe it or not, schlatt is a very affectionate guy when he's in a relationship

his love language is definitely touch, i'm calling it now, so he'd be touching you whenever he could

but especially he needs you on his lap, with your head on his shoulder and his arms around your waist

that's his favorite position for anything, full stop

[schlattslonghairytoes]

please everyone read this now.

POP PRINCESS °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ !

part 1 !

summary: ᯓ˚࿔ you leave austin to continue your tour

notes: ᯓ˚࿔ mostly yearning for this part, yall! ᯓ˚࿔ ultra fem!pop star!reader (she/her prns) ᯓ˚࿔ flashbacks in blue ! ᯓ˚࿔ so much thanks to my lovely mutuals who helped me work on this and give me ideas and such! ᯓ˚࿔ not proofread! ᯓ˚࿔ this is not the end of pop princess! there are more fics to come! :D

wc: ᯓ˚࿔ 5.7k

You stand, tearing up as you lock eyes with Schlatt, who looks equally ruined. The crowd's cheers fade into background noise as you stare at one another.

"Flordia is so warm," You laugh into the phone, the warmth of the sun filtering through your window as you describe the balmy air.

"Yeah," Ted agrees, "But I think the worst part is the humidity. It just clings to you."

You groan, "The humidity is sinister. It feels so heavy, you know? And I've genuinely been worried for the audience at my shows," You frown a little, "But I hope the water I have them pass out makes it a little bit better."

Ted runs a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I can't imagine what that's like."

"I've been drinking so much, Teddy." You whine, feeling dehydration grasp at your throat.

There's a lull in the conversation—a thick silence of uncertainty, "How... how's Schlatt?" You tentatively ask, voice laced with curiosity.

"You can ask him that yourself. You know that."

You grimace, feeling a knot form in your stomach, "It just feels so strange. I dunno, I feel like he hates me."

Ted sighs, "How many times do we need to go over this? He doesn't hate you."

"How can you be so sure?" You ask, nervously chewing on your lip as you fidget with your hands.

"Because," Ted replies with a steady tone that borders on parental, "He doesn't shut up about you. He misses you, Y/n. And I know you miss him too."

"What am I supposed to say? 'Hey, Schlatt. I know we haven't talked in forever, but do you want to catch up?'" You reply with embarrassment.

"Yeah, that's exactly what you're supposed to say," He states matter-of-factly.

"But, Teddy," You groan, dread creeping in, "That's so embarrassing!"

Ted sighs, "I assure you it's not. He wants to talk to you."

"Then why hasn't he reached out to me?" You question as a pang of unresolved tension hits you in the chest.

Ted is silent, the weight of the unanswered question lingering in the stagnant, humid air. He doesn't have an answer.

You let out a resigned sigh, "I've gotta go."

"It was nice talking to you, and hey, break a leg," He says with a warm voice of support.

"Thank you, Teddy. It was nice talking to you, too," You reply, feeling a mixture of gratitude and frustration as the call ends.

"I need to break up with Kaleb," You mutter, absent-mindedly poking at your breakfast. Sunlight pours through the window, illuminating Schlatt's face.

Schlatt rolls his eyes dramatically, "I despise that guy. I was so upset when I saw you two were together."

You raise your eyebrow, a coy smile playing on your lips, "Really?" You ask as warmth flutters through your chest at his words.

Schlatt scoffs, leaning back in his chair, "'Course I was. He took my pretty girl away from me. Oh, and don't even get me started on his Instagram stories," He adds, tone becoming mockingly dramatic.

"Oh, I never look at those."

"It's for the better," He replies as a smirk ghosts his lips.

"Why? Do I look bad in them?"

He shakes his head, a genuine smile breaking through, "You could never look bad, pretty girl."

His words hang in the air, warm and reassuring.

"Hun, what's wrong?" Jess asks, her voice filled with concern as she strides over to you.

"Just..." You sigh, letting your thoughts swirl uncontrollably, "A lot going on in my mind."

She side-hugs you, radiating a sense of warmth, "You can always talk to me, hun. You know that, right?"

Her southern drawl, melodic and sweet, never fails to make you smile, "I know, Jess. Thank you." You appreciate her unwavering support more than you could ever express.

"Now!" She claps your shoulder, eyes full of whimsy and encouragement, "Go out there and shine like the star you are!"

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tonight's performance was particularly tough. People loved Forbidden Love so much that you added it to your setlist, and as the familiar melody fills the air, you can't help but continue your newfound tradition of scanning the crowd for Schlatt. You yearn for the moment your eyes meet his, but he's not there. He never is.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Schlatt sits in his office watching a live stream of your concert. He's been seeing you all over social media, and there are rumors you're dating again. Some guy named Oliver, and Schlatt has to imagine the worst—has to assume you're dating him.

He has your number; he can call you and find out. He won't. Despite everything Ted says about how you miss him, he tells himself you hate him.

He tears up as you sing Forbidden Love, hating how the crowd sings along like they know what it's about—like they could ever understand.

"We're all over Twitter," You giggle, holding up your phone to show Schlatt.

As he leans in closer, he taps on a post—a candid shot of you, captured mid-gaze, completely enamored as you watch Schlatt while you sing 'Forbidden Love' at your last concert.

"This song—it's about..." He looks into your eyes, sincerity reflecting back into his, "Is it about me?"

You nod with a racing heart, "Of course it's about you."

When you return to your hotel room, you sit on your bed and stare at his contact.

Jay <3

The heart taunts you, a relentless reminder of the possibilities that slipped through your fingers, leaving you with a lingering sense of what could have been given everything worked out. But it didn't. With a sigh, you set your phone down and turn away from its dimly lit screen as you make your way to the bathroom. Eager for a moment of solace, you anticipate the warm water of a hot shower to cascade over you, hoping it will wash away the remnants of doubt and regret you always seemed to feel.

"I found a new manager," You smile as you sit on the couch next to Schlatt.

He lights up, "You did?" "Yeah," You smile, "Her name is Jess. I think she's going to be a good fit."

"No more fake boyfriends?" Schlatt laughs, but a sense of seriousness fills his tone.

"No. Only real ones from now on," You smile at him, and a warm spark of excitement ignited deep within Schlatt's heart, filling him with an unfamiliar sense of anticipation.

You lay in bed, remembering how Schlatt cared for you that first night you went to his place—how he held you so gently as you walked. A gentle hand that cradled your hip to keep you steady. You remember how his demeanor changed for the first time—how he looked at you with so much adoration. You remember how he cared so deeply.

You turn on your side, pulling the soft blankets closer around you, and gently close your eyes. A sigh escapes you as you surrender to the stillness of the room, willing sleep to come. In the quiet darkness, you hope for dreams filled with him so you can remember what it's like to hear his voice again—what it's like to see that look in his eyes. And as you drift off, you allow your mind to wander through those soft, lovely moments together, desperately clinging to the hope that tonight, you can touch the fragments of your past with him once more.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You groan as your alarm blares, willing you to wake up.

"Five more minutes," You murmur, though you're not sure why—there's nobody there.

After hitting the snooze button on your alarm about five times, you finally sit up, wincing as a sharp pain throbs in your temples. Cradling your forehead, you get out of bed and head to the bathroom. As you look in the mirror, you struggle to recognize the person staring back at you. The light in your eyes has dimmed, and you often feel sluggish. Your thoughts drift back to your last week in Austin.

You sit at a table in the hotel lobby across from Schlatt, "I leave in a week," You mutter softly, looking into your cup.

Schlatt frowns, and his tone is so genuine you feel like you might cry, "I don't want you to."

"I don't want to either, but I have to continue my tour," You look at him, thoughts swirling in your mind, "What if you came with me?"

You walk back to your bed and pick up your phone. Unlocking it, you're met with his contact glaring at you.

Jay <3

You swipe to your home screen and sigh.

Schlatt gives you an apologetic look, and you can sense the rejection before he even opens his mouth, "My whole life is here. I—" He sighs, "I can't just up and leave Austin. It's my home."

You solemnly look back into your cup, "You're right. I guess I didn't think about that."

You shake your head. You can't afford distractions today.

"What's goin' on with you, hon?" Jess asks backstage.

"I miss him." You reply.

"Who?" She asks before a look of realization settles on your face, "Oh, that boy, right? The one you keep talkin' about?"

You nod.

"Call him up, hon. No point in wallowing in your sadness."

You sigh, slumping further into the makeup chair, "But I can't have him reject me again. What if he doesn't pick up?"

She rubs small circles on your back, "Then he's not worth your time or energy. Okay?"

You nod, "Okay."

"Now? What are you going to do?"

You smile, "Go out there and shine like the star I am."

She claps your back with a grin, "Atta girl!"

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

After the concert, you trudge back to your dressing room, practically collapsing on the small loveseat from exhaustion. You pull out your phone and open Instagram, trying to focus on anything other than Schlatt. But to your luck, his story is the first one on your feed. Too tired to know any better, you press on his icon, smiling as you see a picture of him and Jambo.

Schlatt opens Instagram. He sighs as he refreshes your page, desperate for some sort of contact with you—one-sided or not. To his dissatisfaction, nothing new pops up, and he sighs. Bored, he checks the stats on his story, muttering about how stupid it was to have stats anyway, but he stops his mini rant when he sees your profile picture as one of the people who viewed his story.

"Holy shit," He murmurs.

He stays up the rest of the night, unable to sleep due to thoughts of you plaguing his mind.

Regret fills you as you realize what you've done as you tell yourself he hates you, but then those words echo in your mind.

"I could never hate you, pretty girl."

Never hate you.

And you try so hard to believe it, to recount those exact words, but for some reason, your brain tells you it's all a lie.

"Oliver, I don't know what to do," You mutter to your friend.

Oliver shrugs, "I've told you all I can. Call him."

"What if he hates me?" You whine, dramatically throwing your head into your hands.

"He doesn't hate you," Oliver tries reassuring, but it feels like a fruitless endeavor.

You take a deep breath as you try to calm the pool of anxiety growing in your chest at the thought of talking to Schlatt, "But what if he doesn't want to talk to me? What if I ruined everything?"

"Sometimes you have to take risks," Oliver replies, "You won't know unless you try."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The more Schlatt sees you and Oliver all over the media, the more agitated he grows. His finger hovers over the call button, the screen lighting up his face. He's so close to tapping that stupid phone symbol, the one he's sat and stared at for hours on end, but he throws his phone onto the couch, groaning as he stands up.

"Get it together, man," He grumbles, "She's just a girl."

But, in the back of his mind, he knows you're more than that. You're more than "just a girl." You made him feel something he's never felt before, and at first, it was uncomfortable. He hated it, so he hated you, but then the feeling settled in his chest, and it felt warm—you felt warm. Your giggles were sweet as they bubbled up from your chest, and the creaking of the floorboards as he walks over to his couch sharply contrasts with those memories of your laughter—of your voice. How you used to light up a room with your smile, how you smelled—all these small rememberings he can feel slipping through his fingers with each passing second he doesn't have you.

He sits down on the couch, picking up his phone. Your contact stares back at him, and he decides he's finally going to message you.

'So what's up with this Oliver guy?' He types out, thumb hovering over the send arrow. Rereading the message, Schlatt grimaces as shame bubbles up from deep within his gut.

'I hope the tour's going well,' No—too impersonal.

He thinks for a second about what he actually wants to say to you, 'I miss you so much, pretty girl, and it's killing me to pretend I don't.'

He stares at the text, reading it over and over again. Pretending? Is that what he's doing?

So he edits it, 'I miss you so much, pretty girl, and it's killing me that I keep ignoring you.' But he hates how that reads, so he deletes the message altogether.

Finally, he types out a simple: 'Hey,'

But even that feels like too much, so he highlights the message, pressing delete for the final time that night.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You sit alone in another hotel room, staring at the abstract painting hanging across your bed. It's the kind of still that's more oppressive than peaceful. Picking up your phone, you stare at yourself in the reflection of the black screen. The bustling city life seems so distant as you swipe up and scroll to Schlatt's contact. You feel cut off from the loud traffic and neon lights as you picture him, maybe nursing a drink as he sits on the couch, laughing at an old re-run of a cartoon he loved when he was younger.

The thought leaves a bittersweet ache in your heart. You can almost hear his laugh, grounding you in a way nothing ever has before. But then you look down at your screen, seeing the time stamp of your last message, and you sigh.

You replay your last interaction for the hundredth time, looking for something you might have missed—some sign that he wants you to reach out. But all you can recall is his faint, ambivalent smile as he waved goodbye to you.

'Hi, Jay, I've missed you,' You almost hit send, but your heartbeat spikes and you delete the message.

'Hope you're well!' But that sounds so disingenuous.

Lastly, you type out a simple: 'How are you?' But you remember something he confessed as you cared for him while he was half asleep and tipsy.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"You want to hear a secret?" He quietly mumbles as you lead him to his bed.

"Sure," You amusedly reply. "I'm scared of new things. I prefer to keep things the same."

You pause, tilting your head thoughtfully, "If things never change, how can you hope to grow—to reach any destination in life?"

He's silent as he takes in the weight of your words, not having an answer.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You'd be selfish to reach out. He's living his calm, peaceful life, and you would be disturbing that. The words "I can't just up and leave Austin" taunt you as they echo in your mind. You think about the implications of your actions—how your longing to reconnect might disturb the tranquility he's built. Part of you yearns to reach out—to bridge the gap, share more moments and stolen glances, but you know the risk it carries. o you put your phone down and let the silence settle in your bones as you rest your head in your hands. He deserves peace, and your life isn't peaceful. Not for him—not for anyone, so you close your eyes and tell yourself it's for the best, even if the ache in your heart says otherwise.

Schlatt wakes up, the harsh morning light filtering through the windows. He rubs his eyes, attempting to shake off the remnants of sleep. A familiar pang of stillness crashes over him as he sits up like a strong wave does a rock on the beach. It feels overwhelming—knowing that this ache continues to grow with each passing day you weren't there.

The silence in the room feels heavy, amplified by the absence of your laughter and the warmth of your presence. He looks around his room, taking in the familiar surroundings that now feel eerily different. Walls that once echoed with shared conversations now stand silent while the air stays stagnant with fading memories. Taking a deep breath, he wonders if the day holds any promise of change or if it'll just be another reminder of what he lost.

Out of habit, he checks your page. Surprised to see a new post, he clicks on it, swiping to see the pictures of fans dressed for your concert. The excitement from each person is nearly tangible, and he remembers what it was like to see you for the first time—how he ended up watching in admiration as he tried to convince Ted he hated the performance. Then he swipes to a picture of you; you're smiling, bathed in pink lights, as you sing to a roaring crowd. He feels a smile filled with admiration tug at his lips as he goes to comment.

'Looks like you're enjoying yourself,'

Then he stares at the screen until the words just look like letters—pointless letters, and deletes the message. Something feels off—wrong, even. Here he was, sitting in Austin while you were out there, miles away, selling out stadiums. What would you do with a comment from him? Would you even care? His words felt meaningless and small, like they wouldn't even register in your busy life.

And he knows that one message—a single crumb from you—would turn his life upside down. Maybe that's why he avoids messaging you. Schlatt's life is slow and steady, and he's comfortable with it. He likes waking up and doing his routine. He likes feeding his cats and lazing around. He thinks about you—about how grand your life is, and he sighs. He would just be holding you back, and a sharp pang of fear rises in him. Tilting his head back, he stares at the ceiling, knowing he can't have it both ways—knowing he has to choose you or stability. But he's not ready to let go of either.

But as the days gradually shift into weeks and the weeks seamlessly blend into months, you and Schlatt both find yourselves caught in this unrelenting cycle. Every day feels like a mirror that reflects the last, and the rhythm of your routines becomes monotonous backdrops to your lives. The world around you continues to change, but you remain in this endless loop where time seems to lose its meaning, and every moment stretches on indefinitely.

You sit backstage, and the usual symphony of noises around you feel distant—like you're underwater, trying to listen to those calling to you from the shore. Someone is talking—maybe your manager—but the words pass by you in a blur, barely registering. All you can focus on is the aching desire to check your phone again, as if this time, by some miracle, you would find something different.

Your fingers fidget with the skin around your nails, picking at the rough edges in a small attempt to ground yourself. But it doesn't help alleviate the familiar ache that twists in your chest each time you open Schlatt's profile and scan the screen for any sign of life—any hint that he still thinks of you. But there's nothing, just the same posts from weeks ago, like his life is paused—like he's frozen in time.

People move around you, exchanging laughter and energy, but you sit still, unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling of his absence gnawing away at you. It's as if he's slipped away, and the only pieces left of him are the memories you cling to and the photos on his page that you've already memorized.

Taking a deep breath, you tuck your phone away, attempting to be present. But your gaze still wanders, sweeping the room as if, by some chance, he'd be there—as if he'd somehow find his way back into your world. But all you find is emptiness, a quiet reminder of what isn't there. And in that space, the ache settles deeper, making a permanent home in your heart.

'Goodbye.'

The word hangs in the air, loaded with uncertainty. What does it truly mean? Does it signify that he's vanishing from the online world just as he has from your personal one? Or is it a final farewell that suggests you'll never see his face again?

You finally muster the courage to watch the video, and a swirl of confusion envelops you as he passionately bashes Texas—his disdain for Austin palpable. The haunting phrase, "I can't just up and leave Austin," reverberates in your mind, and a visceral sense of betrayal hits you like a semi-truck, leaving you reeling from the unexpected revelation. You feel frozen as you sit and watch him talk about needing a change—about how Austin is dull and lifeless.

Your mind reels while your heart pounds in your chest.

"Fellas, I'm goin' back home."

But isn't that what he called Austin? Didn't he call it home? When you'd asked him to join you on tour and invited him into your life, he said Austin was his home, that he couldn't abandon it. The life he'd made, the stability, the routine were his reasons for staying behind—the reasons he chose not to be with you.

Yet here he was, casually announcing that he was leaving it all behind. For New York, without a word to you.

He told you he couldn't make that type of change, and you'd stupidly believed him. You accepted stability was what he needed—what kept him grounded—so you let him go, thinking it was better than pushing him out of his comfort zone. But it turns out he'd been willing to leave it all—just not for you.

You click your phone off, and the sudden absence of sound intensifies the silence around you. It feels deafening as your thoughts swirl chaotically. Hurt and anger intertwine to create a tumultuous mix that you can't ignore. Images flash through your mind—his laughter during the moments you shared now overshadowed by the realization that he's moving on, and he's doing it without you. He's actively chosen a path that doesn't have you in it. And the knowledge that he's opened a new chapter free from the weight of your shared history hits you hard as the ache in your chest deepens, and you wonder how he can carry on so easily without looking back. You stare at the ceiling, eyes filled with tears heavy with all the words you'd never get to say to him.

The light of dawn that filters through the curtains awakes you, and you squint against the brightness. Rubbing your puffy eyes, you slowly sit up while feeling the heaviness of a restless night's sleep still clinging to you.

You dread today.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The airport is full of motion as travelers weave through the chaos, only focusing on reaching their destination. Schlatt leans against the pillar of a small Café, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie as he waits for his flight. He's in no rush as the plane for his connecting flight to New York wouldn't even arrive for another two hours. The noise of static that rolls through the intercom as announcements are made and the clacking of flight attendant's high heels fade into the background as he people-watches, gaze unfocused until something—someone—catches his eye.

You.

Schlatt instinctively straightens as he feels a sharp, unexpected jolt course through his body and settle in his heart. You walk towards a gate on the far side of the terminal, and the curve of your face is distinct and unmistakable, even in the crowd surrounding you. You look tired, shoulders slouched ever so slightly, but there's still something purposeful in the way you move.

He feels frozen, feet refusing to carry him closer to you. His mind races, caught somewhere between relief and panic as he wonders why you're here. And then it clicks—New York, of course. He saw it on your schedule weeks ago during a moment of weakness when he scrolled through the updates he told himself he didn't care about. He swallows hard as you stop to adjust your bag, tilting your head to check the departure board. For a split second, he wonders if you're looking for him—if, somehow, you know he's here. But your gaze sweeps right past him, and the sharp pang of being invisible to you lodges itself deep in his chest.

He could walk up to you, but what would he say? That he's been watching from a distance, too scared to reach out—too worried to know if you'd still want him in your life? The words burn his throat like acid. So he stays rooted to the spot, hidden among the hundreds of travelers. His jaw tightens as he watches you fidget with the strap of your bag—a small habit he knows all too well. You look lovely, even in your quiet unease, making him hate himself a little more than before.

An announcement jolts him from his trance, and he watches you walk toward your gate, feeling the distance between you stretch with every step.

He turns back to the cafe, staring blankly at the menu, pretending he hadn't just seen the one person he wanted most leave his life for the second time.

The crowd roars as the lights dim. You stand behind the curtain, heart pounding in time with the rhythm of the cheers.

New York—the city that never sleeps.

You smooth out your outfit one last time before the curtains part. You're blinded by the stage lights as the crowd's roar becomes deafening.

After finishing Corner Store, you smile, letting the crowd's energy wash over you as you step into the spotlight.

"New York City," You call into the mic, "It's so good to be here tonight."

The response is electric as cheers and applause fill the stadium. Schlatt is on your mind, and you feel like you're back in Los Angeles, performing that first night when all you could think about was that mysterious, mean man at the party. You hope history will repeat itself as you scan the crowd for him once again.

The possibility pulls at you while hope flickers in your chest. You told yourself to expect nothing, but the ache of missing him seems to be louder than the crowd as they chant your song.

Pink lights reflect off countless smiling faces, but none of them are his signature smirk. Your throat tightens as you continue to perform—continue to smile, but your heart sinks lower with each verse.

He's not here.

You try to shake the thought away—you can't afford distractions. You can never afford distractions. But the memories of his laugh, his voice, how he'd call you pretty girl like it was your name—it's all too much, overwhelming you.

You reach Forbidden Love, and you step away from the mic, letting the crowd sing for you. The sound surges as thousands of voices fill the space. You take the short moment to look over them again, searching for Schlatt.

All you find are strangers.

The realization hits you hard, and a pang of loneliness cuts through the adrenaline. He's not here. He's not in the crowd—he isn't waiting for you after the show. He's in a world far from your own, and for the first time in months, your voice falters as you sing.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Backstage, the crowd's noise fades into a distant hum while you sip on your water. You think of Schlatt—think of what he'd say given he saw you now—and let the ache settle deep in your heart. You hope he hears about the performance—about how you cried—and knows you're thinking of him, even if he's miles away.

The sunlight streaming through the window is harsh—too bright for how Schlatt feels as he groans and reaches for his phone. His feed loads slowly, and he rubs his eyes as the images come into focus.

You're everywhere.

Clips from last night's performance are trending, with fans posting blurry videos and pictures of you on stage. The captions talk about how beautiful—how utterly unforgettable you'd been.

Schlatt scrolls further, thumb hesitating over a video of you singing Forbidden Love. The caption is trying to decipher who the song could be about, and you look untouchable in the dim light of the stage.

Before he can stop himself, he clicks on the video. Your voice pours through the tiny speaker, and he hates how much it hurts to hear as the song fills the quiet of the room.

"She's fucking everywhere," He mutters.

The feeling clings to him as he grabs his jacket. He needs air—needs to get away from thoughts of you.

But at the corner of his street, a billboard stands tall. A picture of you on stage advertises your tour. The tagline reads, 'A Voice That Can't Be Ignored.' And he scoffs—that's one way to put it.

On the way to the store, he passes a magazine stand where your face stares back at him from glossy covers. Every headline seems to scream your name, and he keeps his head down—refusing to look at them.

He reaches the store, and your voice greets him as the doors slide open. Your music croons softly over the radio, and he freezes for a moment, staring at the fresh produce as his lips press tightly together. He quickly grabs what he needs and makes his way to the register.

He gives the cashier a tight-lipped smile, and as she begins ringing his items, she speaks, "She's amazing, isn't she?"

Schlatt blinks, caught off guard, "What?"

"This singer," The woman says, "Her music has been on repeat all week. I still can't believe she's here right now."

He hums in response, nodding as he hands her the cash, "Keep the change," He says, giddy to leave.

He walks home, keeping his head down to avoid any possible conversation. Then he stops, frozen in his tracks, as he sees your silhouette. He wants to go up to you—wants to hear your voice. For a moment, he wonders if you'll turn around and see him, but you don't. And he doesn't let you.

Ducking his head, Schlatt quickly crosses the street. His pulse hammers as he picks up his pace, trying to get away from the snippets of your voice. His stomach twists, the same pang of loneliness and guilt that's been haunting him since you left Austin. It would've been so easy to stay on the other side of the street—to walk up to you. He doesn't.

What would he even say? That he misses you? That every song, every picture, every damn video of you makes him ache with yearning? That he hates how much he wants to be part of your world despite it terrifying him at the same time?

He shoves his thoughts down as he walks as quickly as possible. He can't face you. Not now, not like this, not conflicted and uncertain while stuck in a life he isn't ready to leave but can't stay in without thinking of you.

A minute or so later, he glances back, but you're gone. His absence hits him harder than the sight of you ever could. He stands there for a moment, staring at the spot where you'd been. It's funny how people just fill the space where you were as if you hadn't even been there.

When he gets home, he drops the bag of groceries onto the counter and slouches onto the couch. It feels like the universe is mocking him, pushing you into every corner of his life and reminding him of what he can't have. And no matter how far he goes—how much he tries to clear his head—it seems like you are always going to be there, right out of reach.

You reach your hand towards the plastic separating you and the litter of kittens. One lazily stretches, blinking at you with disinterest before curling back into a ball.

A small smile tugs at your lips. It's been a while since you let yourself slow down like this and just exist. The chaos of your tour has been relentless, and this small pocket of quiet feels like a reprieve.

As he enters the store, Schlatt mutters something about Jambo running out of treats again. He's been making excuses to leave his house—telling himself he's going out because he wants to reconnect with the city, but he's lying to himself. He knows, deep down, that he keeps going out because he's hoping to see you again, hoping you'll notice him.

And then he turns to the cat aisle, steps faltering as he catches sight of you. There you are, standing alone, focusing entirely on the kittens before you. For a second, he considers walking away—slipping out of the store before you notice him. But the way you stand there under the dim lighting, shoulders slightly slumped, while looking at the cats with quiet affection, makes him pause. His feet begin moving on their own accord as he runs a hand through his hair, heart pounding harder and harder with each passing second. He doesn't have to say anything—you didn't see him—he could leave and pretend this never happened, but the thought of walking away again felt heavier than the fear of facing you. So he goes to tap on your shoulder, but he hesitates—finger hovering over you like it did the call button so many times before this moment. But he actually commits this time—no more chickening out, no more running away. This is it.

You turn around as you feel a soft tap on your shoulder, "Yes?" But you feel the air leave your body when you realize who stands before you.

He awkwardly waves, "Hey, pretty girl."

"Jay… hi."

thank you so much for reading <3

if you liked this, please reblog it! im hoping to reach my true and final form of a gummy shark, and i grow stronger with each reblog!

[ohbabydollie]

Can you do a fic where its from we give relationship advice episode of chuckle sandwich and jschlatt is searching his room for his remote , what if he pulled the duvet off the bed and y/n was there . Ted and tucker can either be surprised or know her and laugh and joke

“Yeah, ya gotta dump em” schlatt says crossing his arms, finishing listening to the speak pipe.

“Really?” Ted says sitting up, “what do you know about relationships to know that she should?” He asks.

“Well, Ted does have a point” Tucker pipes in

“Yeah, i mean, you’ve been single for how long?” Ted asks with a smug grin

“Ha ha, fuck you guys” schlatt says getting up “hold on for a fuckin second, I gotta find my remote” Schlatt mutters as he starts searching in his room.

“It’s your stuff, shouldn’t you know where it is?” Ted asks

“Well maybe I’ve been seeing someone and maybe they’ve been movin’ my shit around” Schlatt responds

“Ooo, a lady friend?” Tucker asks in a teasing tone

“Possibly”

“More like a boyfriend” Ted laughs

“Shut up Ted” Schlatt says pulling his duvet back to show your lower half as you sit up, sleepy.

Ted and Tucker are silent, almost surprised and wide eyed before Ted speaks up, “is that-“

“Schlatt, I’m cold” you sleepily scold pulling the duvet back over yourself.

“Sorry your majesty” Schlatt mumbles, “I’m looking for my remote”

“It’s on the nightstand” you mumble, shifting around to get comfortable again and quickly falling back asleep.

Schlatt grabs his remote before sitting back down with a cocky grin, “so what was that about my relationships Ted?” Schlatt asks

[squinch-depraved]

p! link masterlist ✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜

!!! submissions are open if you have a link you'd like to share !!!

꒰ thank you to everyone who sent stuff for this, i hope to continue adding to it !! ꒱

✦jschlatt:

the one that started it all

sitting on his lap

short but sweet

i could totally see him waking you up like this

he would absolutely film this you can't convince me otherwise

unpaid intern schlatt 1

unpaid intern schlatt 2

✦ted nivison

him holding you in his lap and playing with you

making him eat you out while you read

just kinda grabbing him

bathroom sex

ted and his stupid little apple watch

✦charlie slimecicle

lazy sex with charlie

slow and romantic

pounding up into you from behind

holy fuck this one is so perfect

you cannot tell me he wouldn't be into this

teasing you

jerking him off like this>>>

✦cooper cscoop

cooper links coming soon !!

✦hasan piker/hasanabi

bulge thread !!

[manticore-fangs]

fleshlight x schlatt is all im gonna be thinkng about now thanks guys shdjks also I rlly feel like he definitely be overstimulating himself with that toy drooling while he pumps it FULL cum squelching out everytime he thrusts back in its getting all smeared all over his stomach and shaking thighs nasty wet noises it's all getting right on the edge of painful but he cant stop cause all he can think of is breed bread breed 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

fanning myself rn this is too much for me fuckk

hmmmf omg.. holy fuck.

he literally fucks himself into overstimulation but he cant stop because his balls are so full, he needs to dull the ache there :(

the squelching disgusting noises that come from the fleshlight is actually just filthy. cum is all over his thighs and on his pelvis, thick loads are just there, you so, so wish those were inside of you instead :(

exactly! all he is thinking about is breeding, just having to fill you so full with his kiddos. his hair is so ruffled from throwing his head back and his thighs are now starting to get this pleasuring ache from tensing so much when he cums.

schlatts loads are so thick its almost unbelievable until you see it. like globs of it just rolls down the fleshlights outer layer because he came again, its like thick water almost but like cum version.

the disgusting noises make your thighs clench together and- oh jesus, he came again.