was thinking of like how Quackity would treat the reader when theyre filming videos together or streaming videos and how they look out for the reader (Quackity x reader)? Like what steps before filming and going out in public would like Quackity take to like tell the reader and let them know information of safety as well as filming and such.
- ☀️
Quackity always treated filming like a two-part job.
The first part was the content — loud jokes, bits that went off the rails, chaotic energy that pulled viewers in.
The second part was making sure you were okay before any of that ever happened.
Before filming, he’d knock lightly on your door or send a quick text.
“Hey, we’re filming in like twenty. You good? Need anything before we start?”
If you were new to filming or streaming with him, he’d sit you down — not dramatically, not scary — just honest.
He’d explain what kind of video it was going to be.
Whether chat might get loud.
If there was any chance of clips spreading outside the usual audience.
“If anything gets weird, you don’t owe anyone a reaction,” he’d say. “You can tap out whenever.”
He always made sure you knew the safe words — not as a joke, but as a real signal. A phrase you could say on stream that meant cut the bit, change subject, end the call. He’d hear it immediately, no questions asked.
Before going live, he’d double-check:
Your mic muted when it needed to be
Your camera angle not showing anything personal
Any tabs or apps closed
If you hesitated even a little, he’d notice.
“Hey. We can delay. The video’s not more important than you.”
When you went out in public together, Quackity switched into a different mode — quieter, more alert.
He’d tell you ahead of time where you were going, how crowded it might be, and what to do if people recognized him.
“If anyone comes up, stay just behind me. You don’t have to talk. I’ll handle it.”
He never pushed you into photos.
Never introduced you unless you wanted to be.
And if anyone crossed a line, he stepped in fast — polite, firm, done.
After filming, he always checked in.
Not for content.
Not for stats.
Just you.
“How’d that feel?”
“Anything you want different next time?”
“You did great — but also, thanks for telling me when you needed a break.”
Working with Quackity wasn’t about being loud all the time.
It was about knowing someone had your back — on camera and off.
And every time he hit End Stream, he made sure you knew the same thing:
was thinking of a Quackity x reader that is just pure comfort and tooth rotting fluff :3 a cosy movie night with a bunch of snacks and lots of cuddles all around!!
again, appreciate all of your writing >O<
- ☀️
“Movie Night Magic” — Quackity x Reader (Fluff) ✨
The night had that soft, sleepy glow to it — the kind where the sky outside the window looked more like velvet than darkness, and the world felt unusually quiet. Perfect. Absolutely perfect for the movie night you’d both been talking about all week.
You padded into the living room with your arms full of snacks, trying not to drop anything even though the pile was definitely taller than it should be. Chips, chocolate, gummies, popcorn, something Quackity insisted on calling “emergency cookies”… it was a ridiculous amount, but he’d said, “Listen, it’s a movie night, not a salad night,” so here you were.
Quackity was already on the couch, wrapped like a disgruntled burrito in a blanket, his hair sticking up in the most adorable way. He perked up the second he saw you.
“WOAH— snack goddess incoming,” he said, scrambling to help before you inevitably dropped the stack.
You set everything down triumphantly, hands on your hips. “I told you I could carry all of it.”
“You absolutely could not,” he said, pulling you down onto the couch beside him, “but I respect the confidence.”
The blanket cocoon immediately extended around you, Quackity tugging and fussing until you were tucked perfectly against his chest. His arms came around your waist like this was where they’d wanted to be all day.
“Okay,” he murmured, chin resting on your shoulder, “movie choice time. I vote the one with the explosions.”
“You always vote for the one with explosions.”
He gasped dramatically. “Are you saying explosions aren’t a cinematic masterpiece?”
“I’m saying you are predictable,” you teased, poking his cheek.
He caught your hand, holding it against his face with a tiny, sleepy smile. “Only for you.”
Your heart melted. Fully and completely.
Eventually, you settled on a movie — the cozy kind, the kind that makes everything feel slower and warmer. The room filled with soft sound, the glow of the TV washing over both of you in gentle blues. Quackity loosened his hold just long enough to grab a handful of popcorn, then immediately tightened it again, hooking his leg around yours like he thought you might float away.
“You comfy?” he asked quietly.
“Very.”
“Good,” he whispered, brushing a tiny kiss against your temple, “because you’re not allowed to move until the credits roll.”
You snorted, but you didn’t even want to move. Not with his thumb tracing lazy shapes on your arm, not with the warmth of him soaking into you, not with the steady rise and fall of his breathing syncing with yours.
At some point, he rested his forehead against your shoulder and mumbled, “This is nice.”
“It is,” you agreed, threading your fingers through his.
He looked up at you with that soft, gentle smile — the one he only ever wore when he felt safe. “Best movie night ever,” he said.
And honestly? With him holding you like you were the most important thing in the universe, you couldn’t imagine disagreeing.
was feeling like a Quackity x reader where the reader is struggling from going to seeing lots of their friends and hanging out, to all their friends being busy or involved in drama and feeling very alone and overwhelmed, and Quackity just comforts the reader and looks after them :] just lots of comfort and fluff in general
Again, thank you so much ^^
- ☀️
“I’ve Got You” — A Quackity x Reader Comfort Fic ☀️
The apartment was too quiet.
It wasn’t always like this. A week ago you were bouncing between group calls, late-night movies, spontaneous bakery runs with friends who lived way too close for their own good. But suddenly everyone was busy—caught up in drama, overwhelmed, unavailable, or just… gone.
You knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, but the silence pressed on you like a weight.
Your phone lit up a few times throughout the day. None of the notifications were the ones you had been hoping for. You wrapped your arms around yourself, sinking deeper into the couch. The room felt unfamiliar in a way that made your chest tight.
You didn’t even hear the apartment door open.
“(Y/N)?”
Quackity’s voice floated in, light but warm, like he was trying not to startle you.
You turned your head slightly. “Hey.”
He took one look at you—blanket half-slid onto the floor, eyes a little unfocused, phone face-down beside you—and his expression softened instantly. He closed the door gently behind him and walked over.
“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, sitting beside you.
You shrugged. You weren’t even sure where to start. “Nothing. Just… everyone’s busy, I guess.” A small, humorless laugh escaped you. “Feels like everything got loud for them and quiet for me.”
Quackity didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he reached out and brushed a stray hair away from your face, fingers steady and careful.
“That sounds pretty lonely,” he murmured.
The simple acknowledgement cracked something in you. Your throat tightened. You nodded, staring at your hands.
Without another word, Quackity tugged you gently into his chest. It wasn’t the dramatic movie-style swoop—just a subtle, natural shift, like he knew exactly what you needed and exactly how to give it.
You melted into him instantly.
His hoodie was warm, soft, and smelled faintly like the vanilla candles he always insisted he didn’t like but kept buying anyway.
“You don’t have to pretend you’re okay with me,” he said into your hair. “Not ever.”
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie. “I know. I just… didn’t want to bother you.”
Quackity let out a breathy laugh—not mocking, but soft, almost disbelieving. “Bother me? (Y/N), you could call me at three in the morning because your toaster looked at you weird and I’d still show up.”
Despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips.
“There it is,” he said, nudging your forehead with his. “See? That’s my favorite face.”
You groaned quietly. “Stop being sweet to me, I’m trying to be sad.”
“Too bad,” he said, wrapping his arms more securely around you. “I’m not going anywhere tonight. And neither is your sadness, apparently, so I’m babysitting both of you.”
You leaned against him, the tightness in your chest finally easing. His presence filled the quiet room, replacing the loneliness inch by inch.
“Do you want distraction?” he asked softly. “We can watch something. Or I can make us food. Or we can just sit like this. Whatever you need.”
“Can we just… stay like this for a bit?” you whispered.
His arms tightened around you in answer.
“As long as you want,” he promised. “You’re not alone. Not today, not tomorrow. I’m right here.”
You closed your eyes, breathing in the comfort he wrapped around you so effortlessly. The silence didn’t feel heavy anymore. It felt warm.
DUDE Thank you so much for writing my first ever request recently, it was written so well :DD I’m requesting another Quackity x Reader fluff about like the reader is chilling out of camera in the same room while Quackitys streaming, and they send donations to talk to him instead of just chatting to him cause it’s funny and the reader knows that the chat loves q the funny antics like that and then the reader chills on stream with Quackity just chatting or smth. Thank you so much again :]
- ☀️
“Chat, I Think My Girlfriend’s Trolling Me.” – A Quackity x Reader Fluff Story
Quackity was mid-stream, headphones on, eyes locked onto his monitor with that trademark chaotic energy. He’d been live for about an hour, rambling about absolutely nothing with the kind of intensity that made his chat spam crying emojis.
Meanwhile, you were curled up on the couch just off-camera, scrolling on your phone, sipping a drink, and doing your best to stay quiet. He knew you were there, of course — he’d shot you a grin when you walked in — but the chat didn’t. You loved watching him work, the way he bounced between topics and cracked jokes that were sometimes stupid, sometimes brilliant, always very… Quackity.
Then you got an idea.
A terrible, wonderful idea.
You opened the donation page.
You typed:
“Hi Alex, huge fan. Just wondering… have you had water today??? Hydration check 😤💧”
You hit send.
Quackity paused mid-sentence when the TTS chimed.
“HUGE FAN??” he repeated, offended already. “Bro, why do my donations roast me? Why do I get bullied on my OWN STREAM—”
Then he read the rest.
“Okay, guys, FIRST OF ALL, yes I’ve had water today. I literally—” He looked around as if a camera crew would verify his claim. “I drank some earlier. I think. Probably.”
You muffled a laugh into your sleeve. Chat exploded with “HE’S LYING” and “HYDRATE ALEX” messages.
He narrowed his eyes at the screen like the donation personally insulted him.
“Okay, who was that? Who—what was the username? ‘SunflowerAnon’? That sounds fake. That sounds suspiciously like someone I know—”
You sent another donation.
“Sun: Can you ask your girlfriend to bring you water if you don’t have any? She seems very responsible 😌”
The TTS read it out and you could see it dawn on him.
He turned toward you slowly, dramatically, like he was in a soap opera.
“You think you’re funny,” he said.
You shrugged, stifling a grin.
Chat was losing their minds.
“Chat, my OWN girlfriend is donating to bully me,” he announced like he’d been betrayed by the nation. “I am being attacked from all angles. There is NO safe zone.”
Another donation came in before he could continue.
“Sun: love u tho <3 hydrate 🫶”
He covered his face with both hands.
“Oh my god PLEASE— okay, OKAY, now I know it’s her.”
He peeked at you between his fingers.
“Get over here. Come on. Come say hi to chat so they stop conspiring against me.”
You laughed and went to sit beside him, slipping into the frame. Chat erupted instantly — hearts, pogs, “HI Y/N !!!” and “POWER COUPLE REAL???”
He leaned into you, dramatic as ever.
“Chat, this is the menace who bullied me with money.”
“And I’d do it again,” you said sweetly.
He gave you an exaggerated gasp, then broke into a smile and bumped his shoulder into yours.
“Fine,” he said, “you stay. But you have to help me fight chat now. You’ve switched sides.”
You pretended to think.
“Hmm… no, I think chat’s funnier.”
He stared at the camera.
“Chat. I’ve been betrayed twice today.”
You curled up beside him while he scrolled through memes, reacted to clips, and told dumb stories — and every now and then he’d glance at you with that soft little look that chat always notices but he pretends he doesn’t do.
By the end of the stream, he said:
“All right, guys, we’re gonna log off. I have to go fight my girlfriend for donating like a hater.”
You snorted.
“You loved it.”
He smiled. “Yeah. I did.”
And he ended stream with the chat spamming hearts for both of you.
So, I have an idea again, even two, but for now I'll tell you only one, they're all about yandere and poly relationships (as you know, I really love the yandere concept)
But this idea is about yandere Karlnapiti! AU all the characters / streamers of DSMP are gods, the reader is one of the followers of any god of your choice, Karlapiti are the gods who are in poly marriage, they are known for the fact that if they take mistresses, they are most often common and not for a long time for a week or a month, usually the mortals they chose became too arrogant in that that they were chosen as a lover by as many as three gods, and as a result they usually "mysteriously" disappeared (not Karl, not Kwakiti, not Sapnap, they did not like how their lovers changed after a short time, they abruptly began to behave self-confidently, they believed that they were the center of a relationship, or they found out that people just wanted a lot of money, and they carefully killed them themselves), because of this, everyone in the temples of the three married gods knew that becoming a lover of the deities was tantamount to death.
The reader became their lover by accident, she was just walking on the weekend, and Kwakiti Karl and Sapnap were in the form of people. They met, fell in love by chance, began to establish a relationship, they did not tell her that they were gods, because they did not want a repeat of the previous situation. As time passes, the reader learns that she is pregnant, and as a follower of her god, she cannot have a relationship without marriage. And she realizes that she cannot contact her lovers because they see each other fickle, and their meetings are often spontaneous, as a result, she leaves the temple so that she can raise a child safely.
At the same time, Karlapiti wanted to present her as a lover and tell the truth about herself, but she left earlier, a year and a half (1.5) years passed, kvakiti and the young god (tubbo) went on a little trip as people, why is not so important, Schlatt just asked to look after his son out of old friendship, and there, Kwakiti saw a reader with a small child in his arms, he was angry (he thought that she had run away with someone else), he could not do anything in front of people, and the reader unnoticed him and went home with the baby and shopping.
At night, with the help of magic, he sneaked into her house, thinking that he would kill anyone who would be in bed with her (he decided to leave the child because she really looked charming with the baby in her arms, and he looked more like her than anyone else, so it would not be so difficult to tolerate him), but there were things in the whole house just for her and the baby that still couldn't sit (4 months is it too early for that?) as a result, he enters the bedroom and sees only her in bed, and next to the crib with a sleeping baby, God could not take his eyes off his beloved, she was still as beautiful as before, but then there was a shuffling and a noise from the bed. Kwakiti approached the child, and then the baby fell silent, and, O first creator, the child was not just a man, it was a little demigod. There wasn't much strength in him, but this power was familiar and very close to him, the baby, not recognizing the man in front of him, began to whimper, God had to take him in his arms, rocking the baby to sleep, and this happened, not without the help of magic, but who could blame him, and rocking the child, he came up again in the beloved. Only now did I see the bags under her eyes, and she was clearly exhausted, and childbirth is very exhausting for women, but not every mortal is capable of bearing and giving birth to a demigod. He understands how happy his other lovers will be when he tells them that he found their flower, and how much they will be happy to meet their baby, and then puts the baby in his crib. And before leaving, he kisses his beloved on the forehead and puts a mark on her that is invisible to mortals, but he will never lose her.
As a result, a couple of times, before picking her up, Karl and Sapnap also came with their lovers to her at night, and Karl almost screamed when he saw the baby, Sapnap was also happy, but calmed his lover so as not to wake up their flower. Before her arrival, a lot of things needed to be prepared so that she would be comfortable and she could not escape again, and the baby's room needed to be prepared, because their flower and baby deserved the best.
In the end, the reader and the child are taken away (at night) and told the truth, she is scared, but she can't do anything, she won't be able to descend into the human world herself, she doesn't know how to raise a demigod child, and her HUSBANDS have made it clear that it won't be good for her if another attempt to leave them happens and to be honest, she's afraid to find out what will happen if she tries to do something.
✧ Yandere Karlnapiti God AU — “The Flower They Lost” ✧
In the old stories, people whispered that loving the Three was a curse.
Karl, Sapnap, and Quackity — the Karlnapiti Trinity — gods of wonder, fire, and fortune. They were dazzling, unpredictable, inseparable, and overwhelmingly possessive. The temples carved into the mountains of the kingdom bore warnings older than any priest:
“To become their lover is to offer your life.”
For mortals who entered their bed rarely lasted long. Some grew arrogant, believing the gifts of the gods made them royalty. Others sought wealth. None understood that the Three loved fiercely — too fiercely — and jealousy was divine poison.
Mortals disappeared. Priests hushed their voices.
Worshipers kept their eyes lowered.
And you?
You were no different from any of the others — or so you thought.
✧ The Beginning — A Meeting Not Meant to Happen
You had simply taken a weekend walk outside your temple — nothing more. A moment of quiet, of air, of escape from your duties as a follower of a distant, gentle god whose rules forbade relationships outside of marriage.
And then you met them.
Not as gods, radiant and terrible — but as men.
Karl with laughter in his voice and curiosity in his eyes.
Sapnap warm and protective, teasing without cruelty.
Quackity sharp and charming, the most dangerous of them all when he smiled.
You didn’t know their names. They didn’t offer them.
They were just travelers who bumped into you on a crowded street.
Then meetings became coincidences.
Coincidences became intentional visits.
Visits became affection.
You never knew you were loved by gods.
They never told you — terrified you would become like the others, drunk on the idea of being adored by divine beings.
For them, you were perfect because you were ordinary — humble, gentle, human.
You loved them without knowing what they were, and that made your love pure.
So they kept their secret.
And somewhere along those months…
You became pregnant.
✧ The Escape
Temple rules were absolute: no lovers, no relationships, no child outside marriage.
Your god tolerated no scandal, and your pregnancy would cause an uproar.
Worse, you could not contact your lovers — most of your meetings had been spontaneous, unplanned, untethered. They appeared like weather, unpredictable and warm, then gone again.
So you ran.
You slipped away from the temple, leaving behind years of devotion, disappearing into a quiet corner of the mortal world where no deity looked too closely.
You gave birth alone.
You raised your child alone.
And you cried alone, sometimes — but you survived.
Your baby was only four months old now, small and soft and unable to sit, but bright in a way you couldn’t explain. Sometimes lights flickered when he giggled. Sometimes the wind shifted around him. But you dismissed it — babies were magical in their own way.
You loved him.
And you hoped your lovers had simply forgotten you.
Because the alternative…
terrified you.
✧ The Discovery — Quackity Sees You Again
It had been a year and a half since you vanished.
Quackity had not forgiven you for leaving.
Karl had cried.
Sapnap had burned half a forest in his grief.
Only now, wandering among mortals with Tubbo, the young god entrusted to him, Quackity saw you.
You — with a baby in your arms.
He froze.
For one terrible moment, jealousy wrapped around his throat like a serpent.
She ran away… for another man?
Someone touched what is ours?
Someone thinks they can take her away from us?
Tubbo said something. Quackity didn’t hear.
He stared at you — tired, but glowing, carrying a child who looked so much like you and nothing like any imagined father.
He wanted to storm toward you.
He wanted answers.
He wanted to punish whoever dared touch you.
But the street was crowded.
So he followed you with his eyes as you disappeared into your home, unaware he was watching.
And at night, he returned.
✧ The Night Visit — The Realization
Quackity’s magic slipped him through your locked windows like a shadow.
He arrived ready to kill any man who might be lying beside you — he had already decided he’d spare the child, because you had looked too beautiful holding him.
But the house was wrong.
There were no men’s shoes.
No clothes that weren’t yours.
Nothing adult-sized except your things and—
—baby toys.
—tiny clothes.
—a little four-month-old who couldn’t even sit yet.
He stepped softly into your bedroom.
You slept alone.
Peaceful.
Exhausted.
And beside you, in a small crib, the child was stirring.
Quackity approached, anger still warm in his chest—
—and froze.
The baby’s power brushed against him, faint but unmistakable.
Divine.
His.
Karl’s.
Sapnap’s.
A demigod.
The child whimpered, confused by the unfamiliar presence, and Quackity instinctively picked him up. The baby quieted in his arms, soothed by a bit of magic the god didn’t bother to hide.
For the first time in over a year… Quackity felt joy.
Impossible, overwhelming joy.
He looked at you again.
Dark circles beneath your eyes.
Skin pale from exhaustion.
Still beautiful — painfully so.
You had carried a god’s child.
Alone.
Suffering in silence.
His heart twisted violently.
His obsession sharpened, crystallizing into something frightening.
He laid the baby back down gently, then approached your sleeping form.
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
And with a whisper of magic, he marked you — an invisible divine seal.
You would never escape them again.
✧ Karl and Sapnap’s Night Visits
They came separately.
Karl nearly screamed when he saw the baby — clapping a hand over his own mouth and shaking with joy.
Sapnap cried, then laughed, then kissed your forehead as you slept, whispering something about “finally” and “ours.”
Both men touched the baby’s tiny hands, tears in their eyes.
Both saw how worn down you were.
How lonely.
How small your life had become.
Both left with the same thought:
She will never struggle alone again.
We will take her home.
We will keep her safe.
Forever.
✧ The Abduction — And the Truth
They waited only long enough to prepare.
A palace of divine marble.
A nursery crafted by three gods’ hands.
Protections, enchantments, chains made of light and silk and power.
And then, one night, they came.
Karl’s arms wrapped around you first.
Sapnap held the baby.
Quackity sealed the doorway with divine fire.
You woke up in Karl’s chest, weightless, terrified, realizing instinctively that you were no longer in the human world.
And then they told you.
Everything.
You trembled — a mortal surrounded by three gods who loved you too much, wanted you too fiercely, and would never let you go.
They apologized for the lies.
They kissed your hands, your hair, your cheeks.
They cooed over the baby, calling him “our little star,” “our flame,” “our miracle.”
And then Quackity spoke the words that froze your blood:
“If you try to run again… someone will get hurt.
Not you or the baby, never —
but someone.”
Karl held your hands with trembling gentleness.
Sapnap pressed his forehead to yours, whispering that you were safe now, protected, cherished.
And all three smiled with terrifying devotion.
You were home.
You were trapped.
You were loved more than any mortal had ever been.
wren I have so much stuff to do this week that I think I can die (´-﹏-`；) I have an radio interview tomorrow, a 5h manifestation on friday, my brother's birthday on saturday, and today I had a meeting. Plus school bc I'm on finals week :'<
I need some sweey quackity x burnt out male reader comfort from my fav writer
-🌻
Of course, I’m sorry this got out so late.
“You Don’t Have To Do It Alone” — Quackity x Burnt Out Male Reader (comfort)
Your planner lay open on the desk, pages crowded with scribbles, arrows, highlighter marks—your entire week squeezed together until it felt like it was crushing your lungs. You didn’t even realize you’d been staring at the same line for five minutes until your phone buzzed beside your hand.
Quackity: hey, you alive?
Your thumb hovered over the keyboard, but answering felt like lifting a mountain. You settled for a weak:
You: barely lol.
He read the energy behind the message instantly. You knew he would. A moment later came another text:
Quackity: I’m coming over. Don’t argue.
You didn’t have the energy to, anyway.
When he arrived, he didn’t burst through the door with chaotic teasing like usual. Instead, Quackity stepped inside quietly, shutting the door with his shoulder, eyes sweeping over you—slumped in your chair, hair messy, stress practically radiating from your skin.
“Hey,” he said softly, dropping his backpack by the couch. “You look like you tried to fistfight your entire calendar.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “I might as well. Finals, a radio interview, then that five-hour manifestation thing—don’t even ask—my brother’s birthday, school, everything… I feel like I could just drop dead.”
Quackity didn’t joke. He didn’t tease. Instead, he walked over, gently pulling your chair back from the desk before dropping to a crouch in front of you. His hands slid over your knees, grounding, warm.
“Look at me.”
You did. He always sounded different when he was worried—voice lower, gentle, like he was afraid to push you further than you already were.
“You are doing way too much for one person,” he murmured. “And I’m proud of you. Really proud. But you’re burning yourself out, cariño.”
Your chest tightened. You didn’t mean to, but the words spilled out, raw.
“I just… can’t mess anything up. Not this week. Everyone’s counting on me.”
“And I’m counting on you too,” Quackity said, squeezing your knee. “Counting on you to remember you’re human.”
Before you could argue, he stood and tugged you to your feet, leading you toward the couch. He sat down and pulled you into his arms so naturally it felt like he’d rehearsed it—your head tucked under his chin, his hand rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades.
The moment your cheek pressed against his chest, the exhaustion slammed into you—heavy, overwhelming, but softened by the warmth of him.
“You don’t have to carry all of this alone,” Quackity murmured into your hair. “You, my man, need a break before you explode.”
“But I still—”
“Nope.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Tonight, we’re doing nothing except breathing. I’ll help you plan the rest of your week after you rest. You’re not facing this without me, okay?”
You swallowed hard. “Okay.”
Quackity exhaled, relieved. “Good. Because I care about you way too much to watch you burn out. And if I have to force you to take care of yourself, I will.”
You laughed softly into his hoodie. “Bossy.”
“Only because I love you,” he shot back casually—then stiffened. “Platonically. Or… not platonically. If you want. Whatever. Shut up.”
You felt your cheeks warm for the first time in days.
His arm tightened around your waist. “Just… let me be here for you.”
You did. And for the first time all week, your chest finally loosened.
The apartment door creaked open just as the clock hit midnight. You were half-asleep on the couch, wrapped in a warm cozy blanket, Netflix still playing some random show you’d been using to fill the silent environment. Then came that familiar voice, soft and tired but smiling through it.
"Mi amor...are you awake?"
You sat up instantly, eyes widening. There he was...Quackity, his hoodie still smelling faintly of airplane and his cologne, his eyes showing how tired he is but his smile? So wide it made your heart feel warm again.
"Lex!" you gasped, stumbling off the couch and straight into his amrs.
He laughed, the sound muffled as he buried his head into your shoulder. His hat nearly falls off
"God, i miss you," he whispered, voice muffled agaisnt your hair. You hugged him tighter, feeling his heartbeat steady agaisnt yours.
After a few seconds, he pulled back and smiled..his eyes soft and sparkling like he had something planned.
"wait, wait, i brought you something." Quackity says
He dropped his bag onto the couch and started rummaging through it like an excited kid.
"okey so, Roeir helped me pick this one out, and Missa said this one is 'muy romántico'-"
Quackity then proceeds to pull out a small, hand-painted ceramic bracelet, the colors deep blue and gold.
“From a market in Madrid,” he said proudly. “It’s supposed to mean loyalty and luck. I thought… it kinda fits us.”
You laughed, looking at him with love.
“You’re so cheesy.”
“You love it,” he teased, sliding it gently onto your wrist.
Then he reached into his bag again,
“Oh, and uh..don’t kill me, but I also brought snacks. Like, a lot.”
He dumped out churros, little Spanish sweets, and even a small plushie wearing a mini sombrero.
“That’s you,” he said, smiling. “You when I told you to stop pouting on FaceTime.”
You rolled your eyes playfully and then smiled.
“You’re impossible.”
“Yeah, but I came home to you, so I win.”
He leaned down, kissed your forehead, and finally, finally, sat beside you, his hand finding yours like it never forgot the way.
And for the first time in weeks, everything felt right again.
i just read the quackity x actor! reader and I loved it!
you think that you can write more about that? maybe how they'll go public and the press and chat reaccion?
(btw if u ever feel like I send too much just ignore them lol)
-🌻
Thank you — I’m so glad you liked it!! And don’t worry at all, you’re not sending too much. I love that you’re into it
Title: “Scene Stealer” (Part 2)
Quackity x Male Actor!Reader – Going Public + Reactions
You hadn’t planned to go public.
In fact, you’d made it nearly seven months under the radar. Seven months of sneaking around fan edits, dodging TMZ, and pretending Quackity was just a “really good friend” who visited your set at 2 a.m. and borrowed your hoodies.
You were careful.
He was chaos.
The balance worked.
Until it didn’t.
The Leak
It was a blurry photo.
You and Quackity outside your apartment, laughing. You had your hand on his cheek — soft, affectionate — and he was leaning into you like it was muscle memory.
Of course, someone had a phone.
Of course, someone posted it.
Of course, it exploded.
"IS THAT HOLLYWOOD KISSING QUACKITY???"
"Bro I thought he was dating that model—"
"WAIT. WAIT. NO WAY."
Your PR team called you within 13 minutes.
You didn’t answer.
The Fallout
Chat went feral.
Quackity streamed the next day — scheduled, casual. You watched silently from his couch, hoodie over your head, pretending you weren’t about to vomit.
He greeted chat like nothing happened… until the donations started.
“ALEX. SPILL THE TEA.”
“BLINK TWICE IF YOU’RE DATING A CELEBRITY.”
“you pulled HOLLYWOOD??? king behavior.”
“quackity: lawyer, streamer, boyfriend, legend”
He paused. Looked at chat. Then looked at you, just off-screen.
And he said:
“I wasn’t planning to say anything yet. But, yeah. It’s true. He’s mine.”
You could hear chat combusting.
You leaned into frame just slightly, waving awkwardly.
“Hi,” you said. “Sorry for stealing your favorite streamer.”
The clip hit 3 million views in 4 hours.
The Press
Paparazzi camped outside your house. Tabloids started making up stories. Quackity trended on Twitter under:
#Quactor
#HollywoodxQuackity
#MyLawyerMyLove
An interviewer tried to “subtly” ask about your relationship during a press junket.
You grinned. “He’s the only man who’s ever made me laugh during a panic attack. So, yeah, he’s kind of important.”
You got death threats. You got fan art. You got invited on Hot Ones and were asked if you could out-eat Quackity in wings (you could).
The Quiet Moments
You never thought you'd date someone this loud, this chaotic, this unfiltered.
But he grounded you. He knew when to turn the noise off. When to take your hand and pull you away from the cameras, the questions, the pretending.
"You know you don't have to be anyone else with me, right?" he whispered once, forehead against yours after a long night.
"I know," you said. "That's why I fell for you."
The Final Scene
Six months later, you posted a picture.
No context.
Just you and him, sitting on your balcony, legs tangled, a switch between you and two mugs of tea in hand.
