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livelovelizz · 1 year

Text

now i'm no longer alone

jason todd x reader / fluff

tw: mentions of blood and a knife

“What the fuck.”

You try to swallow the lump that’s appeared in your throat. You know you must look stupid with your open-mouth stare, but you couldn’t help it. Really…

“What the fuck,” you repeat, scanning the figure in front of you. In the dingy hallway of your apartment complex, stands an out of place person. Red helmet scratched up, black tactical suit torn, and the most startling of all, the amount of blood pouring out from behind a hand.

“Hey, I don’t mean to rush this… but do you mind like—” the figure jerks his head and all you can do float aside to allow him to hobble through. You bite your lip and peek into the hallway. All that stares back at you is flickering LED lights and dingy wallpaper.

Letting out a shaky breath, you stare at the blood spots left on the floor as the door closes, latching it as quietly as possible. You turn the lock.

The injured vigilante you let in has made their way to your couch, draping themselves across it with legs falling off the sides. It’s silent, air tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You open your mouth, ready to start complaining when glistening liquid catches you eye. Clicking your tongue, you go to retrieve the first aid kit from the bathroom.

Flipping on the switch, you squint to adjust to the sudden brightness. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Mussed up hair from sleep, wrinkled pajamas, and a deep frown. You take in a deep breath to collect yourself. Right. Now’s not the time to be distracted by anything other than the problem bleeding out on your couch.

You rummage in the cabinet underneath the sink for a couple minutes, noises too loud for whatever fucking time it is. Behind a stack of toilet paper is where the med-kit is hiding, so it's quickly snatched up and you hurry back to the living room. The idiot is still in the same position, sans the red helmet, which has been tossed aside on the floor.

You shake your head and sigh. “You actually have to take off your suit for me to do anything.”

Blue-greenish eyes swipe to look over at you. They look distinctly glassy and out of focus. Concussion?

“You tryin’ to get me in bed already? At least take me to dinner first,” the mighty Red Hood responds, trying to smile but winces and carefully remains still. You bite your lip.

“Think you can move, or am I gonna have to cut the suit?” you ask, settling on the small sliver of couch left for you, pressing against his thighs. Opening the med-kit, everything gets set out in preparation.

There’s a groan and instantly you zone in on Jason’s face, twisted in pain.

“Just take it off. Trying to replace this shit is too annoying,” he grunts, slowly sitting up. You watch him closely, taking in every small twitch and tense muscles. Gently, hands are placed around his waist, slowly peeling back the top half of his suit. Jason’s been through this a lot. Too much, you think sourly. He forcibly relaxes and doesn’t move when his shirt finally pulls away from his wound. It takes several minutes, going slow and checking over everything, before his top is finally off of him and tossed on the floor somewhere.

His chest is littered with bruises and small scratches, but none of it compares to the gaping knife wound spanning from his ribs to waist. You’re not going to lie, the amount of blood along with how deep the wound is disgusting—you don’t want to know what muscle you’re seeing behind his peeled back skin—but you hold your breath.

Neither of you say anything. You’re focused on cleaning, disinfecting, and wincing as you feel and hear loose skin squish against the needle held in bloody hands. You only fully relax when everything is safely bandaged behind white gauze. Eyes dart up to Jason’s face, becoming slightly startled and embarrassed when you find him already looking at you. Maintaining eye-contact, you reach a hand up to his face, gently brushing over his cheek.

“Anything else I need to know?” you ask quietly, afraid to break whatever comfortable silence the two of you have. Jason takes in a deep breath and shakes his head, leaning into your hand. You don’t want to disturb him. He finally looks somewhat peaceful and not in too much pain after the many pills you shoved at him to take. “I’m going to get a washcloth and some clothes, okay? Don’t move.”

Jason flinches and wide eyes meet yours. “I was, uh, I wasn’t planning on staying,” he says, obviously confused. You stare into his eyes. He only stares back.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Do you honestly think I’m letting you leave this apartment in this state?”

“I’ve had worse, nothin’ to worry about your pretty head about, doll,” he grunts. He’s in the process of sitting up, but doesn’t get too far before a hand is pushing him back down.

“That doesn’t exactly make me feel better,” you dryly respond, “Now, you’re going to sit here and wait for me to come back, okay?”

There must be something showing in your expression because Jason takes a moment before relenting with a sigh. “Hurry it up then, I’m tired and want to sleep.”

You scoff. Honestly, the audacity of this man is astounding. You quickly gather clean clothes for him, random stuff he’s left here from past visits. Armed with a bowl of water and a washcloth, you’re ready to tackle the problem of wiping him down. By the time you make it back to the couch, Jason’s already discarded his pants and shoes. He smiles widely as soon as he sees you, wiggling his eyebrows. The washcloth you were holding is now hitting him in the face.

“Wha—Hey!” Jason pouts, “What was that for?”

The bowl of water is set down on the table, a little splashing over the sides. You look up to him. “You woke me up at an ungodly hour, bleeding out, made me fix you, and then expected me to wipe you down myself? Are you kidding me, Jason?”

You’re actually a little upset. It’s not that you haven’t seen him covered in blood before, but usually it’s not his blood he’s covered in. You knew what you were signing up for when you got together, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying. A warmth wraps around your clenched fist and squeezes. You focus back into the present.

Jason’s looking at you with furrowed brows and a frown. You look down at your hands before you’re suddenly exhausted. Stumbling, you sit down next to Jason and deflate into his side.

“I–I’m sorry. Just…” you close your eyes and take a moment to collect yourself. “It’s just scary. Seeing you like that.”

Your chin is gently clasped and turned to look over to your lover sitting next to you. A thumb brushes against your cheek. “No, doll, I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask of you,” Jason whispers, regret filling every word.

Shaking your head, you cover his hand with yours to keep him from pulling away. “Don’t. I would rather you come to me like this than I not knowing, with you in some dirty alley or safe house,” you reply and press a gentle kiss to his palm. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”

The exhaustion has finally caught up to you, dragging you down. You didn't really want to leave him alone, but a large yawn seizes you. Giving him another once, you deem it okay to leave him by himself.

“I’m gonna go to bed. Join me when you're clean,” you lean forwards and press a gentle kiss to his lips before silently making your way back into the bedroom. Too much has happened too early in the morning. Collapsing onto the bed, you take in a deep breath. You won’t go to bed without him, but your eyelids are heavy and begging for you to close them, so you do.

The next thing you know, the bed is dipping next to you while the blankets slowly cover you up. Not opening your eyes at all, you blindly reach out your left hand and wave it in the air until it makes purchase on something. A hand catches yours. Even with your eyes closed, you can basically feel the guilt he has for worrying you rolling off in waves. Gripping his hand tightly, you drag him down and press your body to his, keeping him in place. You're not chancing him leaving as soon as you fall asleep.

Your head rests on his chest, the gentle thump of his heart and rhythmic breathing is quickly lulling you back to sleep. In your last moments of consciousness, you feel his arm wrap around your back and a pressure on the crown of your head.

“G’night, doll,” he whispers. With him safely wrapped around you in the comfort of your home together, sleep is quick to find you.

fin.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #fluff #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff #redhood imagine #jason todd imagine

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livelovelizz · 2 years

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you’re an awesome writer !! i finished reading the quackity one shot and a part of a wilbur one and they’re so good! have my support !!❤️❤️❤️❤️👍👍👍🖤🖤🤍🤍

omg thank you :(( this means a lot to me <3 i hope you enjoy everything else i have published!

#ask #dreamsmp fanfic #dreamsmp x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

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livelovelizz · 2 years

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love enough to drown it out

c!captain puffy x reader

tw: none

The Dream SMP isn’t kind to people. You go in, bright and beautiful and wonderfully you. It starts slow, but it’s sure. Seeping into your pores, it crawls and twists and sneaks, infecting your soul. Turning from someone youthful and full of life to something grotesque and ill. When you come out the other side, you are an empty husk of what you use to be.

You wish it didn’t have to be this way. You wish you didn’t have to watch countless people you love turn to beasts without any sympathy. At least you can recognize the ways it’s changed you. From someone always laughing and smiling at something, you are much less gracious with your emotions now; projecting apathy or smugness at best—in public at least.

Behind doors, you can be yourself. Show any emotions you want, show any desire you want, any semblance of an attachment. That’s what you think, as you lie in bed with the early morning rays of sun hitting your bare shoulders and warming you up.

It’s nothing compared to the warmth you feel when you look at your sleeping lover's face. Your hand strokes her delicate cheek tenderly, careful not to apply too much pressure. Watching in awe at how strong she is. How short little breaths come out, how her eyebrows furrow before settling again, how she shifts forward further into your embrace. It makes your heart fill with joy and love and contentedness.

On any other day, you would spiral into your emotions, confused on how someone so perfect could love you. But today isn’t that day, and you’re content to lie here and stare at her for hours.

“Stop starin’ at me,” Puffy grumbles, turning her face into the pillow. You laugh and press your forehead to hers.

“Good morning, my sleeping beauty,” you coo.

Puffy scoffs and peaks an eye open. “It’s creepy. Stop,”

You hum in thought before— “Nope. I quite enjoy basking in your presence.”

“Oh my god,” she grumbles, “What’s gotten into you this morning?”

You watch her sit up and yawn, arms stretching up above her head and into the sky. She rubs at her eyes before standing up unsteadily. You prop yourself up on one elbow and watch as she starts towards the bathroom.

“Nothing, my sweet little pumpkin pie,” you smile, “Why can’t I admire you?”

Puffy stops at the threshold of the en suite. Turning her head around, she gives you an unimpressed stare. “Never say that again, or I swear to God I will kill you,”

With that, she flips you off. Clutching at your heart, you fall back with a pained noise, as if you got shot. You hear her giggle and then the door shuts. Rolling your eyes, you guess you should also get up and start the day. You go through the motions, with fatigue dragging your body down and begging for you to return to bed. You just finished getting dressed as Puffy exits the bathroom, looking sufficiently more refreshed.

Perking up, you remembered the plans you have for today.

“Puffy!” you interrupt the silence, causing Puffy to jump. She turns to you with an alarmed face. “Get dressed and meet me down stairs! Hurry, hurry!”

Puffy’s face twists. “Uh, okay—”

You don’t wait for her to finish before hurriedly exiting the bedroom, practically skipping in excitement. It’s been so long since you’ve had a day to yourselves, away from everyone else and you were determined to make today a rest day. You've been planning this for weeks now!

In the kitchen, you reach for a basket that’s kept in the very back of your cabinets, one that was reserved for happier times. Pulling it out, the faint hint of dust makes nostalgia wash over you.

Setting the basket gently on the counter, you start to gather everything you prepped the night before. Crackers, check. Cheese, check. Chocolate, check. Wine? Double check. You just finished packing everything in and closed the lid when Puffy enters the kitchen.

She still looks confused, lips tilted downwards and eyebrows furrowed. She meets your gaze, scanning your body before moving to the object next to you. It takes a minute, but as soon as she realizes what’s going on, her lips part in an ‘o’ shape.

“Are we—are we going on a picnic?” she stutters, shuffling closer to you. You smile and nod, holding out a hand. Absent-minded, she puts her hand in yours. You pull her in and kiss her knuckles.

“Yeah, thought we could use a break,” you reply, “What do you think? Me and you, away from here for a little?”

You can see the uncertainty bloom in her. Puffy tries to take her hand back, but you simply keep it in place. “But—but what if someone needs me? What if—”

“Shh,” you hush, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. She sighs into you, kissing back with a little more passion. Smiling, you pull back. “Let me take care of you today. Nothing’s going to burn down because you’re gone,”

Puffy quirks an eyebrow but smiles back at you anyway. “I actually think that’s quite possible, with the people here,”

You laugh but agree. “Come on, why don’t we head out?”

And so you go, packing up some other things like a blanket and some pillows. It’s a surprisingly nice day, like it knew to put on it’s best performance for you two. Your hands are locked in an embrace, and you look over to Puffy. She’s wearing a woven sun hat, but underneath her hair is loose, flowing freely in the gentle breeze. She looks absolutely divine with the sun gleaming down on her. She’s glowing. Love bursts in your heart and you can’t resist leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Puffy only smiles in return, continuing whatever she was talking about before—you’re a little to caught up looking at her to really hear what she’s saying.

Finally, when you reach the end of the path on onto nature, you come across the perfect spot. A soft gentle hill, with the perfect decline. Flowers cover the hill, bees buzzing and birds chirping. You settle down a blanket and get comfortable. The lunch is delicious, the food is good but the company is great. Laughing and smiles dominant the conversation.

When the wine gets drained and stomachs filled with food, Puffy yawns and shifts.

“Do you want to take a nap?” you ask, brushing a stray piece of hair off her shoulder. She ponders it for a moment before nodding. There’s some readjustment, a few curses let out as rocks poke her, but eventually she settles with her head in your lap. She closes her eyes and you get lost in her features again.

“Thank you for doing this,” Puffy says, softly rubbing her thumb over your hand.

You can’t properly express your love. “You won’t take care of yourself, so someone has to.”

“Still,” she insists, eyes straining with some kind of emotion you don’t wish to decipher.

You lean down to kiss her. It’s a little awkward, and your back is straining from the weird position, but the kiss is sweet and totally worth it. For a while, nothing can be heard besides the chime of grass and song of birds. A calming feeling settles over the hill.

“I love you. I want you to be happy,” you murmur against her lips. “I’m happy when you’re happy.”

Puffy laughs and kisses you again before you pull away. Her eyes are sparkling. “Good thing I’m delighted right now, huh?”

You feel your lungs inflate with a rush of the scenery—air, flowers, grass, and Puffy, oh Puffy. You love her so much, and she smiles because she knows.

fin.

#captain puffy x reader #captain puffy x you #captain puffy x y/n #puffy x you #puffy x reader #puffy x y/n #captain puffy imagine #mcyt x reader #dreamsmp x reader #fluff #captain puffy #captain puffy my beloved #mcyt x you #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfiction

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livelovelizz · 2 years

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masterlist

do not repost or claim work as your own. ➡ last updated 3.28.23

a collection of my works can be found here. feel free to reach out if you have any story ideas in mind! i'm always open to talk :) edit: 2/29/24: I am taking down what I wrote for Dream and Wilbur. I should have done this long ago, but I kinda forgot about this blog. I do not associate with Wilbur Soot or Dream anymore and their actions disgust me. I will also take down Technoblade's because at the time I wrote it, I was unaware of his boundaries and it feels wrong to have kept it up this long.

[DC]

jason todd

now i'm no longer alone

↳comfort/fluff | 1.4k

[DSMP]

captain puffy

love enough to drown it out

↳dreamsmp!au-- fluff | 1.2k

quackity

there's something tragic about you

↳dreamsmp!au-- hurt/comfort | 2.9k

#masterlist #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #quackity #quackity x you #quackity x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #captain puffy #captain puffy x y/n #captain puffy x you #captain puffy x reader #captain puffy imagine #jason todd x you

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livelovelizz · 2 years

Text

there's something tragic about you

c!quackity x reader ; the fiancés

tw: suggestive content (talk of nudity, kissing) ; hurt/comfort

The setting sun disappeared behind towering buildings as you walk steadily towards your destination. Your exposed arms shuddered against the chill of the cool evening breeze. Glancing down at your wristwatch, it’s barely visible in the fading light. 8 o'clock sharp. Taking a moment to marvel at your punctuality, you turn a corner. That's when you heard your name being shouted from somewhere in the distance.

You look around in all directions, finally meeting the luminescent green of the one and only Charlie Slimecicle. A grin splits your face from it’s usual pensiveness. “What’s up, Charlie?”

As soon as he reaches your position, the two of you start to continue walking. “Oh, I am up nothing! Just doing normal human activities,” he replies, pointing to the ground. “Like walking!”

You nod. Charlie is the epitome of quirky and endearing. “Walking is perfectly normal,” you agree. The sun has now disappeared, leaving nothing to chase away the cold that seeps into your bones. Shivering, you cross you arms to conserve body heat. You glance up to the nearest street sign and almost sigh in relief. Between the aching in your feet from uncomfortable shoes to the increasing chill and darkness, you cannot wait to be home. Next to you, Charlie is babbling about something or another, but you couldn’t really listen, letting the noise wash over you instead to offer a backtrack to the emptiness of your mind.

You hum and offer small input when needed, but mostly you let your mind drift as your body runs on auto-pilot. You barely noticed Charlie even stopped until you almost ran into his back. Flinching back in surprise, you look up to see what stopped him.

“Quackity from Las Nevadas!” Charlie shouts, “How are you?”

Sure enough, Quackity stands just ahead of you speaking to someone in a suit you don’t recognize. At the shout of his name, he turns at catches sight of the two of you. Walking closer, you catch a glimpse of a smile before it’s smothered into a neutral expression. He nods his head at the business man, muttering something quietly to them. The man doesn’t seem too pleased, but he nods his head back anyway and walks away.

As soon as the man disappears from sight, a smile graces Quackity’s features. As soon as you’re in reaching distanced, you’re pulled into his chest. “How are you, mi amor?” he questions, pulling back to observe your figure. You roll your eyes and shove him lightly.

“I’m good—” you pause. Quackity raises his eyebrows. You lick your lips. “Maybe a bit hungry. My feet hurt and I’m cold,”

Quackity’s smile only grows and he makes to remove his jacket. “Well we can’t have that, can we?” He drapes his suit jacket across your shoulders, a sigh escaping you as the layer warms you up a bit.

“I can also feel cold!” Charlie interjects, smile large and with teeth. “I’m just human like that!”

Quackity tuts. “We should get you inside then. I don’t need two frozen people under my watch!”

He slips an arm around you waist and then the three of you are off. You press closer into his side. “Oh, so one icicle is fine?”

He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Yes.”

“How’re we gonna break the news to Slime?” you stage whisper, a conspirator smile on your face.

“Oh no, please do not make me freeze—” Charlie worries. Quackity also has a large grin on his face.

He tightens his grip and pulls you in closer. “Who said I’d save you?”

He laughs, high-pitched and careless while you can also stare in astonishment. After a few seconds gaping in disbelief, you scoff and nudge your shoulder into his side. He only nudges back harder. Narrowing your eyes at the challenge, you shove back harder. You assumed Quackity wanted to retaliate, but the front doors of the casino popped into view and while Quackity is an absolute menace, he also has a reputation to upkeep. You can feel in take in a deep breath before squaring his shoulders. You walk through the lobby, occasionally acknowledging people you nod at you first.

You guys and Charlie parts ways, him off to do whatever it is he does. The elevator opens up to your suite and you shuffle inside. Taking off your shoes make you audibly groan, stretching out the sore muscles. Quackity’s jacket slips off your shoulders, you hastily running to the bedroom to hang it up. Quackity had the same idea, albeit less rushed. He walks into the bedroom a minute after you first appeared. The large closet was opened as you mess around with the innards to find what you were looking for.

“I’m going to take a bath,” you say, hearing Quackity hum in acknowledgment. “Wanna join?”

You turn around, robe and pajamas in tow. Quackity gasps, hand over his heart as wide eyes stare at you in surprise. “Mi amor! Are you trying to see me… naked?” he dramatically states. “I’ll have you know, I’m saving myself for marriage and don’t—”

“So that’s a yes?” you cut him off, hip popping to one side. Quackity’s paused mid-sentence, mouth opened wide. He opens and closes it for a few seconds before he sighs, moving to the drawers where he keeps his pajamas.

“Of course, mi amor. I’ll meet you in there,” he says. You give him a quick peck on the way out, turning on the bathroom’s lights and set your things down. You pad over to the tub and let the water run for a few moments to get it hot before you plug it up. Making a split-second decision, some soaking salt was splashed in as well as some essential oils. A little recovery night never hurts someone. You just got done searching around for a candle when the man of the hour walks in. You light it and observe your work. Deeming it alright, you turn to find your lover staring. He wiggles his eyebrows and walks closer.

“Am I allowed to disrobe thee?” he asks. You roll your eyes and lift your arms up, a silent ‘yes’ providing consent. He takes his time to be gentle, making sure you barely feel his hands or your clothes being taken off. Some might say the act of taking clothes off is sexual, but in this moment, all you feel is tender love filling up your body. As the last pieces hits the floor, Quackity presses gentle kisses to your shoulders while you return the favor. You reach up to his neck, a cold piece of metal meets your hand, and you’re met with the sight of his ex-fiances’ ring.

Quackity lifts his head and stares at you. You don’t blame him for keeping it around, in fact it would bother your more if he just discarded it. You can tell he always worries about your thoughts of it from the way his lips purse to his body being angled more towards you, as if he could distract you from seeing them. Thumbing the ring, you smile at him and kiss his cheek to sooth his worry. Instantly, he relaxes and you almost have to toss the ring onto the counter before you’re dragged towards the tub.

You sigh in bliss as you sink into the hot water, letting your eyes slide shut. Water sloshes around you as Quackity starts to sit behind you. As soon as you feel he’s fully seated, you lean back into his chest, hands automatically wrapping around your midsection. With the gentle smell of relaxing oils, and the hot water massaging tired muscles, you let yourself be enveloped by it.

Not everything is so peachy. It’s late at night, lights turned off yet no one asleep. No one ever falls asleep in Las Nevadas. You’re currently laying in an empty bed and staring at the wall, the spot next to you long past being warm. The penthouse is very luxurious and more than you could ever ask for, but the sheer size of it makes you feel more alone than ever with no one to buffer empty space. You turn to look out the wall length windows. Bright lights assault your eyes, distant shouting can be heard from the streets. You’re starting to get a headache already.

Making a split second decision, you get up, wrapping your robe around you and slipping your feet into slippers. Padding out the bedroom and into the main room, you spot a shadowed figure out on the balcony, smoke billowing away from them.

The door handle makes your fingers go cold from how freezing it is, but you slide open the glass door anyways. You’re greeted with harsh winds that tousle your hair and weave through your robe.

The figure turns around, dark eyes glinting in the night. Quackity opens his mouth and smoke rolls out of it, polluting your eyes and the second-hand smoke burns your nose.

“What’re you doing out here? You should be asleep,” he says, leaning against the balcony railing. You shuffle closer, pressing into his side.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you reply. Down below, people run around shouting at each other, bells occasionally going off. LED lights makes the city a living rainbow. It’s quite beautiful. Returning your eyes to Quackity, you watch with lazy attention as he takes a long drag before letting out an even longer breath. He drops the cigarette to the floor and stamps it out, twisting his foot on it. He smiles at you and opens his arms, to which you immediately burrow in.

Something cold hits your cheek and you pull back, catching sight of glinting metal. You bring your hand to it and gently clasp the ring.

“I…” Quackity starts. You look up with a noncommittal hum, still thumbing the ring. He breaks eye contact, staring out into the city that never sleeps.

“You know I… I’m with you now, right?” he whispers.

You hum. “I know.”

“I only have my eyes on you.” Quackity insists. You smile at him.

“Then why do you still carry this around?”

To emphasize your point, you tug on the chain. Hurt flashes on his face and he looks away. Your eyebrow quirks up and you lift a hand to his cheek and force him to look back at you.

“I’m not mad, okay?” you begin, “I know how much they mean to you,”

He scoffs but covers the hand on his face with his. “Meant. How much they meant to me, you mean,”

“Nah,” you hum, tugging on the chain again for affect. Quackity leans in closer to where your faces hover against one another. “How much they do mean to you. You’re not over them,”

And with that, you seal the deal with your lips pressing gently into him. You try and focus all your emotions into this one kiss, hoping he can understand what needs to happen. Letting go of the chain, you wrap your arm around his neck to bring him in closer. He readily follows, both hands dropping to grasp your hips. Once the need for air becomes too put, you pull away giggling when he chases your lips.

You stare into his bright eyes. One is dark and reflects bright lights back at you, like thousands of little stars. The other one is a glassy white, the moon who watches you. He rests his forehead against yours with a small grin.

“Why’d we stop?” he asks, pushing your body until you’re pressed between the railing and him. His knee prods in between your legs, making you feel like jelly. Quackity makes a move to lean back in, but you stop him with firm pull at his shirt. He follows your lead, but looks at you in confusion. Trailing a finger down his scar, you savor this moment. It could be the last.

“I think you should talk to them,” you whisper. For a second, nothing happens. You see the exact moment he makes the connection, because he jerks back with wide eyes and an open mouth. You purse your lips and hold onto him tighter to stop him from leaving. Both of you know he could easily overtake you, but he doesn’t. The thought makes you warm inside. It doesn’t overpower the guilt, however. “I think you need to talk. You deserve closure. Explanation,”

He closes his eyes before his features twist into a scowl. He pulls away just enough until the only part of you touching is your hands on his shoulders. “Yeah?” he bites out, “Why don’t you just tell me you want to leave too,”

“Are you serious right now?” you’re astonished. “I’m just saying, it’ll help you figure out your emotions!”

He rips your hands off. You feel hurt crawl up your throat, making the temporary anger dissipate. Quackity’s lips are pulled into an almost-snarl. You shake your head and cautiously take a half-step forward. He doesn’t move, only clenches his jaw and crosses his arms, which you take as a win.

“Don’t you want to know?” you speak softly, “Aren’t you curious?”

You close the distance again, slowly wrap a hand around his elbow. “I think they owe you at least that, don’t you think?”

You watch his eyes, as they search your face for something. Quackity sighs and drops his arms, shoulders hunched in on yourself. You thought he’d put up more of a fight, but it doesn’t mean you aren’t thankful. He mumbles something and you frown in question. “What was that?”

He embraces you, taking you by surprise but without hesitation to cling back.

“I don’t want to get hurt again,” he whispers. You can hear the quiver in his voice. You press a kiss into his hair.

“I won’t let you,” you declare.

This was always going to happen. Maybe you didn’t realize in the beginning, but as time went on, it was really inevitable. You were doomed to fail.

He could have been madly in love with you, but he was already wholly and tragically in love with his fiances’. Love arrives exactly when it’s supposed to. Sometimes it stays, sometimes it can’t. And as you pack your things, you look out into the penthouse and realize: this was a temporary visit.

Footsteps draw you out of your wallowing. You turn and meet the sight of your once-was lover. You appraise him. He looks the same, black hair stowed away in a beanie, scar raised against freckled skin, and attire fit for a man whose on-top of the world. But you also see something different—the lightness in his shoulders. The small curve of his lips, as if he’s seconds away from breaking out into a smile. He’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Away,” you answer. You can’t look away. His features fall into despair. It makes you want to apologize and comfort him, running your fingers through his hair and promise you never meant it.

He takes a few steps forward. “W—why?”

“Quackity,” you smile. “I can’t stay here.”

He looks like he wants to resist, like he also wants to come over and make you feel better. All he does is reach a hand out before letting it drop. He nods slowly, like he’s trying to convince himself to be okay with it. He walks closer and wordlessly tugs you into a warm embrace. A burning feeling creeps up your throat with effort as you try not to cry. Your head is laid against his chest, ear to his steadily beating heart. You needed to ask him something. You needed to know.

“At least part of it was real right?” you choke out, eyes rapidly clouding with tears.

“Oh, mi amor,” he sounds heartbroken, “All of it was real.”

A sob breaks through and a hand flies to your mouth to stop. Quackity only tightens his grip and cradles your head. More footsteps interrupt you. You push him away, frantically wiping at your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you give a shaky smile to the three of them. Sapnap and Karl look worried, shyly walking up to Quackity’s side. Their eyes dart from you to Quackity, trying to decipher if they need to step in. Your entire being longs to be there instead.

You clear your throat to draw their attention. Bending down to reach your bags, an awkward pause fills the room. “I guess this is goodbye,” you call out. Quackity frowns.

“Come visit okay?” Quackity calls out desperately. “Don’t be a stranger!”

His eyebrows are furrowed and eyes wild with grief. It’s not fair how much you love him. You’ll remember the early mornings, where his breath is stained by coffee and where the world has yet to ruin his mood. You’ll call upon how he always valued your opinion, from what will be for dinner or what the new floor in the casino should be decorated like. You’ll miss the gentle hands the took you apart, the heart that was opened up to you. You’ll miss him for the rest of your life.

Next to Quackity, Sapnap wraps an arm around his waist with a gentle squeeze. Karl hovers behind his other shoulder. This is a necessary evil, you remind yourself. He’ll be taken care of and loved for the rest of eternity.

“Oh, my dear,” you respond. “You won’t see me ever again,”

You walk out with your bags grasped tightly in your hands, lip quivering and tears that flow down your face. You’ll miss him indeed, but you’ll miss who you were with him more.

fin.

#quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #the fiancés #quackity x karl x sapnap #karlnapity #comfort #hurt #dreamsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #i hurt myself writing this #quackity imagines #c!quackity #bittersweet ending

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