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You’re straddling Alex’s lap, fingers playing with his long, silky hair as you admire him with a soft gaze. “You look like such a pretty princess,” you murmur, voice low and affectionate. He lets out a nervous laugh, rolling his eyes with a half hearted scoff. “I’m not a girl,” but you can tell he’s flustered, his flushed cheeks and the way he avoids your eyes give him away. You smirk, leaning in, your tone dropping to a teasing whisper. “Did you like that?” He swallows hard, silent, but the way his grip tightens on your waist says enough. Your lips brush his ear as you whisper, “Do you like when I call you my pretty princess?” The words send a shiver down his spine, and a small, helpless whimper escapes his lips. Slowly, you start to move your hips, grinding down against him, dragging out another soft noise from deep in his throat. “C’mon, pretty girl,” you purr, “let me hear those pretty noises.” His breathing grows shallow, his hips beginning to rise up to meet yours in desperate, faltering motions, too flustered to form words. You tug gently on his hair, enough to pull a gasp from him. “I’m your pretty girl,” he finally breathes out, the words escaping in a shaky, needy moan. You smile against his skin, your voice no more than a whisper as you reward him with two quiet words. “Good girl.” <3

I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND <3
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff#quackity smut#quackity x reader smut
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Possessive
comfort
word count: 639
versión en español


You’d always loved being possessive with Alex.
There was something intoxicating about leaving your mark on him. Bite marks, hickeys scattered along his neck and collarbone, scratch marks down his back and sides like trophies. You adored being all over him in public too, not to prove anything, not because you were insecure, but because you were proud. Proud that he was yours.
Your hands always found him, fingers laced in his, arms wrapped around his waist, resting on his thigh, tugging him closer when someone looked a little too long. You’d curl up on his lap, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his hair like you were claiming him all over again.
Not that you needed to. He knew who he belonged to.
But still, you liked to show him off. You loved watching him smile, especially at the dumb little things. The small achievements, the accidental wins, the random jokes he’d make while streaming. You were always his biggest fan. And when you whispered small praises in his ear, low and soft, just for him. God, the way his face flushed, the way his breath caught, it made your chest ache in the best way.
And Alex? He loved it just as much. Loved the way you looked at him like he was the most perfect thing in the world. Loved how you touched him like you’d never get enough. Even if he got flustered, even if it made his voice break and his cheeks turn red. He loved being yours.
Still, not everyone understood it.
“Some people think you’re… controlling,” he mumbled once, voice low and strained, his head tilted back against the couch. You were perched on his lap, your lips trailing kisses down his neck, warm and possessive.
You paused, just enough to lift your gaze and study his face. He looked wrecked, in the softest, sweetest way. Eyes hazy, lips parted, breathing uneven.
You tilted your head slightly, voice soft but steady. “Do you think I’m controlling?”
He didn’t even hesitate, just shook his head, silent but sure.
A slow smile curled on your lips as you ran your fingers gently through his hair, making him shiver. “Good. That’s all that matters.”
Because it was. You didn’t care what anyone else said or thought. His opinion was the only one that mattered to you. His comfort, his happiness, they were everything.
“Should I say something?” he asked quietly, almost like he didn’t want to start something, even though he wanted to defend you.
You shook your head without missing a beat. “Let them talk,” you murmured, still combing through his hair. “We don’t owe them anything. They’re just jealous.”
He nodded, a quiet hum of agreement slipping from his throat, his arms tightening around your waist.
You took a moment to just look at him. The curve of his jaw, the sleepy look in his eyes, the small moles dotting his skin, the ones you loved kissing. You tilted his head back just a bit more, tugging gently on his hair until his eyes locked with yours, wide and full of need.
“Who do you belong to, baby?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.
His breath hitched. “You,” he said without hesitation. “I’m all yours.”
His words were hoarse and needy. His fingers dug into your waist like he was trying to make sure you knew it, like he needed you to feel how real it was.
You leaned in, close enough for your lips to almost brush his, feeling the tremble in his breath.
“And I’m all yours,” you whispered, because even if it didn’t look like it sometimes, you needed him to know it.
“Say it,” you breathed.
He swallowed hard, voice rough with emotion. “You’re all mine.”
And you were. Just as much as he was yours.
<3
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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Posesiva
comfort
cantidad de palabras: 640
english version


Siempre te había encantado ser posesiva con Alex.
Había algo adictivo en dejar tu marca en él. Mordidas, chupetones esparcidos por su cuello, rasguños por su espalda y costados como trofeos. Amabas mostrar tu cariño por él en público también, no para demostrar algo, no porque fueras insegura, sino porque estabas orgullosa. Orgullosa de que fuera tuyo.
Tus manos siempre lo encontraban, tus dedos entrelazados con los suyos, tus brazos alrededor de su cintura, descansando en su muslo, jalándolo más cerca cuando alguien lo miraba por demasiado tiempo. Te acurrucabas en su regazo, tus dedos jugando con su cabello como si lo reclamaras una y otra vez.
No es que hiciera falta. Él sabía a quién pertenecía.
Aun así, te gustaba presumirlo. Amabas verlo sonreír, sobre todo con las pequeñas tonterías. Los logros pequeños, las victorias accidentales, los chistes que soltaba mientras hacía stream. Siempre habías sido su fan número uno. Y cuando le susurrabas cosas bonitas al oído, en voz baja y suave, solo para él. Dios… la forma en que se sonrojaba, cómo se le cortaba la respiración, te apretaba el pecho de la mejor manera.
¿Y Alex? A él le encantaba tanto como a ti. Él amaba la forma en la que lo mirabas, como si fuera la cosa más perfecta del mundo. Amaba cómo lo tocabas, como si jamás te fueras a cansar de él. Incluso cuando se ponía nervioso, cuando la voz se le quebraba y se le pusieran rojas las mejillas. Le encantaba ser tuyo.
Aunque no todos lo entendían.
“Algunas personas piensan que eres… controladora,” murmuró una vez, con la voz baja y tensa, la cabeza recargada hacia atrás en el sillón. Tú estabas sentada en su regazo, tus labios bajando por su cuello en besos cálidos y posesivos.
Te detuviste apenas lo suficiente para alzar la mirada y estudiar su rostro. Se veía destruido, pero de la forma más dulce y suave. Ojos nublados, labios entreabiertos, respiración irregular.
Inclinaste ligeramente la cabeza, tu voz suave pero firme. “¿Tú crees que soy controladora?”
Él no dudó ni un segundo, solo negó con la cabeza, en silencio pero seguro.
Una sonrisa lenta se dibujó en tus labios mientras pasabas los dedos suavemente por su cabello, provocándole un escalofrío. “Bien. Es lo único que importa.”
Porque sí. No te importaba lo que dijeran o pensaran los demás. La única opinión que importaba era la suya. Su comodidad, su felicidad, eran todo para ti.
“¿Debería decir algo?” preguntó en voz baja, casi como si no quisiera causar problemas, aunque quería defenderte.
Negaste con la cabeza sin pensarlo. “Déjalos que hablen,” murmuraste, aún acariciando su cabello. “No les debemos nada. Solo están celosos.”
Él asintió, un leve murmullo de acuerdo escapó de su garganta, sus brazos se aferraron un poco más a tu cintura.
Te tomaste un momento para simplemente mirarlo. La curva de su mandíbula, esa expresión adormilada en sus ojos, los pequeños lunares que salpicaban su piel, esos que tanto te gustaba besar. Le jalaste el cabello suavemente, inclinando su cabeza hacia atrás un poco más hasta que sus ojos se encontraron con los tuyos, grandes y llenos de necesidad.
“¿A quien le perteneces, mi amor?” preguntaste, casi en un suspiro.
Su respiración se cortó. “Tuyo,” dijo sin pensarlo. “Soy todo tuyo.”
Sus palabras eran roncas y necesitadas. Sus dedos se clavaron en tu cintura como si quisiera que lo sintieras, como si necesitara asegurarse de que supieras que era real.
Te inclinaste más, lo suficiente para que tus labios casi rozaran los suyos, sintiendo el temblor en su aliento.
“Y yo soy toda tuya,” susurraste, porque aunque a veces no lo pareciera, necesitabas que él lo supiera.
“Dilo,” respiraste.
Se le hizo un nudo en la garganta, la emoción haciendo su voz rasposa. “Eres toda mía.”
Y lo eras. Tanto como él era tuyo.
<3
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Reflections
smut, threesome, quackity x roier
word count: 361
versión en español


Alex is buried deep inside you, fucking you from behind with desperate, uneven thrusts, while Sebas moves against him, slow, deep, and steady. Sebas grips Alex’s hips firmly, guiding the rhythm as he rocks into him with practiced ease, his voice low and breathy against Alex’s ear.
“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight,” he murmurs, lips brushing against his skin. “You’re taking me so well.”
He knows Alex is still adjusting to the stretch, trembling at every deep press, and his voice is gentle, patient, grounding. In return, Alex clings to you for comfort, burying his flushed face in the crook of your neck. His breath is hot and shaky against your skin, muffled groans spilling past his lips as he squeezes your waist hard, fingers digging in so tight they’ll leave bruises.
He’s desperate. Every thrust into you is messy and frantic, seeking relief and connection in the overwhelming sensations. His hands roam your body with frantic urgency, cupping and caressing your tits, needing something to focus on, needing you, as if worshiping you was the only thing holding him together. His lips find your neck, leaving sloppy, needy kisses as he chases your moans, getting lost in the sounds you’re making, in the way your body arches back against him.
He couldn’t form a single sentence even if he tried, his body moving on instinct alone as Sebas fills him, and he fucks into you in return, caught between both of you.
The three of you are tangled together in front of the mirror, lips parted, faces flushed and damp with sweat, hair clinging to your foreheads. You watch the way your tits bounce with every thrust, the way Alex’s face twists in pleasure, Sebas’s mouth parted in soft groans as he watches everything play out, himself inside Alex, Alex inside you. Your eyes lock in the mirror, and it only turns you on more, seeing how small you look compared to them.
And in the mirror’s reflection, bodies tangled, breathless, undone, you see not just the heat of it, but the way you all hold onto each other like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart.
<3
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good morning :3

#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff#quackity smut#quackity x reader smut#quackity x roier#roier x quackity#spiderduck#quackitoier
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Reflejos
smut, trio, quackity x roier
cantidad de palabras: 376
english version


Alex está enterrado profundamente dentro de ti, cogiéndote por detrás con empujones desesperadas e irregulares, mientras Sebas se mueve contra él, lento, profundo y constante. Sebas le sujeta las caderas con firmeza, guiando el ritmo mientras se empuja dentro de él con suavidad, su voz baja y entrecortada junto al oído de Alex.
“Me estás apretando tan duro,” murmura, con los labios rozándole la piel. “Me estás tomando tan bien.”
Sabe que Alex aún se está acostumbrando a la sensación, temblando con cada empuje profundo, y su voz es suave y paciente. A cambio, Alex se aferra a ti en busca de consuelo, enterrando su rostro sonrojado en el hueco de tu cuello. Su respiración caliente y temblorosa roza tu piel, jadeos entrecortados escapando entre sus labios mientras te aprieta la cintura con tanta fuerza que sus dedos dejan marcas.
Está desesperado. Cada empujón dentro de ti es desordenada y frenética, buscando alivio y conexión en medio de las sensaciones intensas. Sus manos recorren tu cuerpo con urgencia, apretando y acariciando tus tetas, necesitando algo en lo que enfocarse, necesitándote a ti, como si adorarte fuera lo único que lo mantiene firme. Sus labios encuentran tu cuello, dejándote besos torpes y necesitados mientras persigue tus gemidos, perdiéndose en los sonidos que haces, en la forma en que tu cuerpo se arquea contra el suyo.
No podría formar una sola frase aunque lo intentara, su cuerpo se mueve solo, por puro instinto, mientras Sebas lo llena y él te folla a ti, atrapado entre los dos.
Los tres están enredados frente al espejo, los labios entreabiertos, los rostros enrojecidos y húmedos por el sudor, el cabello pegado a las frentes. Miras cómo tus tetas rebotan con cada empujón, cómo el rostro de Alex se retuerce de placer, la boca de Sebas entreabierta en suaves gemidos mientras observa todo desarrollarse, él dentro de Alex, Alex dentro de ti. Tus ojos se encuentran en el espejo, y eso solo te excita más, al verte tan pequeña entre ellos.
Y en el reflejo del espejo, cuerpos enredados, sin aliento, deshechos, no ves solo el calor del momento, sino la forma en que se aferran los unos a los otros, como si fuera lo único que pudiera evitar que se deshagan.
<3
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buenos días :3

#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff#quackity smut#quackity x reader smut#quackity x roier#roier x quackity#spiderduck#quackitoier
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Between Songs
drummer!alex, comfort, angst
word count: 419
versión en español


Alex plays the drums like he’s trying to break something. His body is tight with tension, jaw clenched, shoulders rigid, hands gripping the drumsticks so hard they look like they might snap. Every strike is a release, each beat louder, heavier, as if he’s trying to drown out the noise inside his own head. The more overwhelmed he feels, the harder he hits, pouring everything he can’t say into the rhythm. His long, messy hair flies around his face, already damp with sweat, sticking to his skin as he moves with a kind of frantic desperation.
His expression is fierce, lips parted, chest heaving with shallow, ragged breaths as he throws himself deeper into the music. This is how he copes. This is how he lets go, by losing himself in the sound, in the chaos, in the beat that keeps him upright when everything else feels like it might fall apart.
And then, just for a second, there’s a break. A tiny pause between songs. He lifts his head, eyes scanning the crowd, and that’s when he sees you.
The moment your eyes meet, something shifts. Just a little. But enough. The tension in his frame loosens, his shoulders drop ever so slightly. And then he gives you the smallest, softest smile. You smile back, steady and proud, and it’s like giving him something steady to hold onto amid the chaos. His grip on the drumsticks relaxes. His breathing slows. When the next song begins, he plays, not like he’s fighting the music, but like he’s finally moving with it.
By the time the set ends, he’s drenched in sweat, chest rising and falling fast, arms aching, completely spent. But the first thing he does is find you.
He walks over, drained but smiling, and without a word, he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning into you like he’s finally found somewhere safe to land. You greet him with a soft, knowing smile and pull a cold, damp cloth from your bag, always prepared. With gentle hands, you brush the hair from his face and wipe the sweat from his brow, your touch tender and familiar.
“You did so good,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Like always.”
His eyes flutter closed, a tired but content smile playing at his lips. “Thanks for coming,” he whispers, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and gratitude.
You cup his face in your hands like he’s your whole world, your thumb grazing softly across his cheek. “I always do.”
<3
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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Entre Canciones
comfort, angst
cantidad de palabras: 444
english version


Alex toca la batería como si estuviera tratando de romper algo. Su cuerpo está tenso, la mandíbula apretada, los hombros rígidos, las manos sujetando los palillos con tanta fuerza que parece que se van a romper. Cada golpe es una liberación, cada ritmo más fuerte y pesado, como si intentara ahogar el ruido dentro de su propia cabeza. Mientras más abrumado se siente, más fuerte golpea, liberando todo lo que no puede decir en el ritmo. Su pelo largo y desordenado vuela alrededor de su rostro, ya húmedo por el sudor, pegándose a su piel mientras se mueve como si estuviera desesperado.
Su expresión es intensa, los labios medio abiertos, el pecho subiendo y bajando con respiraciones cortas y entrecortadas mientras se entrega más profundamente a la música. Esta es su manera de lidiar con todo. Así es como se libera, perdiéndose en el sonido, en el caos, en el ritmo que lo mantiene en pie cuando todo lo demás parece a punto de derrumbarse.
Y entonces, por un segundo, hay una pausa. Un pequeño descanso entre canciones. Levanta la cabeza, sus ojos recorren el público, y es entonces cuando te ve.
En el momento en que sus miradas se cruzan, algo cambia. Solo un poco. Pero suficiente. La tensión en su cuerpo se afloja, sus hombros caen ligeramente. Y entonces te regala la sonrisa más pequeña y suave. Tú le sonríes de vuelta, firme y orgullosa, y es como darle algo firme que le dé estabilidad en medio del caos. Su agarre en los palillos se relaja. Su respiración se calma. Cuando comienza la siguiente canción, toca, no como si estuviera peleando contra la música, sino como si finalmente se moviera con ella.
Para cuando termina, está empapado en sudor, el pecho subiendo y bajando rápido, los brazos adoloridos, completamente agotado. Pero lo primero que hace es buscarte.
Camina hacia ti, exhausto pero sonriendo, y sin decir una palabra, te abraza por la cintura, apoyándose en ti como si finalmente hubiera encontrado un lugar seguro donde refugiarse. Tú lo recibes con una sonrisa suave, y sacas una toalla fría y húmeda de tu bolsa, siempre preparada. Con manos gentiles, apartas su pelo de su rostro y limpias el sudor de su frente, tu toque tierno y familiar.
“Hiciste tan bien,” murmuras, besando su frente. “Como siempre.”
Sus ojos se cierran lentamente, una sonrisa cansada pero contenta aparece en sus labios. “Gracias por venir,” susurra, con la voz ronca por el agotamiento y la gratitud.
Tú le tomas la cara entre tus manos como si fuera tu mundo entero, y con el pulgar le acaricias suavemente la mejilla. “Por ti haría lo que sea.”
<3
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The moment Alex spots you, his whole face lights up, just like it always does when he’s with you. His eyes crinkle at the corners, sparkling with that familiar warmth that makes your chest ache in the best way. He looks at you like you’re the most perfect thing in the world, like just seeing you is enough to make everything else disappear.
Then comes that crooked little smile, the one that’s so genuine, so endearing, it feels like it was made just for you. The one that always makes your heart skip a beat. And just like that, without even thinking, you’re smiling back. The smile that only he could ever pull out of you, the one that always belonged to him. <3
aaaaaaaaaaaa i love those pretty brown eyes so much 😞
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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I’m Not Going Anywhere
angst
word count: 871
versión en español


It had been a couple of weeks since the breakup.
Alex kept you locked out, his emotions sealed behind a wall even he couldn’t climb. He was struggling, and badly. You could see it slipping through the cracks, the way he carried himself, how his texts stopped coming, how his laugh had vanished. But he wouldn’t let it show. He didn’t want to seem weak. So instead, he pushed you away, unintentionally, but relentlessly.
You wanted to fight for him. God, you wanted to. But not if he wouldn’t fight for himself.
And he didn’t.
Because deep down, he had convinced himself he didn’t deserve you. That you were better off without him. So he let you go. And you let him.
You walked away. And he didn’t stop you.
Even though both of you wanted it to be different. Even though it hurt like hell.
The quiet that followed was deafening. You were starting to get used to it… sort of. You missed his laugh, the way it used to fill every room like sunlight. The way his eyes sparkled and squinted when he smiled, the lopsided grin that always managed to pull a smile out of you, even on your worst days.
You missed him.
You hated watching the joy in him fade, swallowed slowly by thoughts he never shared.
It was 3 am when you heard the knock.
Soft. Too soft. But it pulled you out of sleep anyway.
Maybe you were just tired. Dreaming.
Still, you got up, your limbs heavy with sleep. You padded slowly to the door, cautious, groggy. You looked through the peephole.
And your breath caught.
Alex.
You opened the door, heart stuttering. Relief, surprise, confusion all washing over you at once. But then the smell hit you, alcohol, sharp and sour.
He was drunk.
You looked around, instinctively checking for a car, your voice still thick with sleep.
“Did you drive here?”
He glanced down, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. “No. Don’t worry. I’m not that stupid.”
A pause.
Then, softer, like he was talking to himself more than to you.
“But I am stupid.”
He looked up. His eyes were red and glassy. Full of pain. And it hit you like a punch in the chest.
“Do you want me to drive you home?” you asked gently.
He shook his head slowly.
And then… silence.
Just the two of you standing there in the doorway, staring. The distance between you filled with things left unsaid.
You opened your mouth, to ask if he was okay, to tell him he wasn’t stupid, but he spoke first.
“I’m sorry.”
Two words, cracked and broken.
“Alex, you don’t have to-”
But then he dropped to his knees.
You froze.
Your breath caught as he reached for your hands, hesitating like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you. When his fingers finally wrapped around yours, it was gentle, fragile, almost scared. He buried his face in your stomach, and you felt it, the tremble in his shoulders as he started to cry.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice faltering. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I just… I can’t help it. I always do this. I ruin everything. I’m so fucked up. I’m sorry.”
Your hands found his face, cupping his cheeks as you leaned down. He looked up, eyes swimming with tears, desperate for your touch, like he was trying to remember what love felt like.
You brushed your thumb across his cheek, wiping the tears away.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, barely audible.
You shook your head instantly, your own voice beginning to break.
“No. Don’t say that. You’re not fucked up. You’re not stupid. You’re just… hurting. But you don’t have to go through this alone. You need help, and that’s okay. I’m going to help you.”
He leaned into your palm, like he was starved for it. Like he needed something, someone, to ground him to the world.
“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” he whispered again. “I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t. I won’t do it again. Just… please don’t leave me again.”
You dropped to your knees, pulling him into your arms without hesitation, holding him tight like you could glue all the shattered pieces back together. You kissed his forehead, firm and reassuring.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna get better. Come on, let’s go inside, yeah?”
He nodded against your shoulder, and you gently helped him up, taking his hand in yours. It felt familiar.
You led him to your bed, the place where so many quiet, intimate moments had once lived, and he curled into you like he was afraid you’d disappear. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his body clinging to your warmth.
You ran your fingers through his hair, slowly, soothingly. Rubbed small circles into his back.
His breathing slowed, evened out. He fell asleep in your arms.
You didn’t.
You just laid there, holding him close, staring at the ceiling while the weight of everything pressed on your chest.
Still running your fingers through his hair, even after he was completely asleep.
And dreading the conversation that tomorrow would bring.
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im sorry i just love seeing pathetic men on their knees 😋
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble
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No Me Voy a Ningún Lado
angst
cantidad de palabras: 834
english version


Habían pasado un par de semanas desde la ruptura.
Alex te mantenía fuera, sus emociones selladas detrás de un muro que ni él podía escalar. Estaba cayendo, y se notaba. Se notaba en los detalles, en su postura, en cómo dejó de escribirte, en cómo su risa desapareció. Pero no lo dejaba ver. No quería parecer débil. Así que, en lugar de acercarse, te alejó, sin querer, pero sin parar.
Querías luchar por él. Dios, querías hacerlo. Pero no si él no estaba dispuesto a luchar por sí mismo.
Y no lo estaba.
Porque, en el fondo, se había convencido de que no te merecía. Que estarías mejor sin él. Así que te dejó ir. Y tú lo dejaste.
Te fuiste. Y él no te detuvo.
Aunque los dos querían que fuera diferente. Aunque les doliera tanto.
El silencio que vino después fue terrible. Te estabas empezando a acostumbrar… más o menos. Extrañabas su risa, la forma en que llenaba cada habitación como si fuera luz del sol. La forma en que sus ojos brillaban cuando sonreía, esa sonrisa chueca que siempre lograba sacarte una sonrisa, incluso en tus peores días.
Lo extrañabas a él.
Odiabas ver cómo su alegría se apagaba poco a poco, tragada por pensamientos que nunca compartía.
Eran las tres de la mañana cuando escuchaste el golpe en la puerta.
Suave. Demasiado suave. Pero igual te despertó.
Quizá solo estabas cansada. Soñando.
Aun así, te levantaste, los brazos y piernas pesados de sueño. Caminaste lentamente hacia la puerta, con sueño, con cuidado. Miraste por la ventana.
Y se te detuvo el aliento.
Alex.
Abriste la puerta, el corazón latiendo descontrolado. Alivio, sorpresa, confusión, todo cayendo sobre ti al mismo tiempo. Pero entonces llegó el olor, alcohol, fuerte y agrio.
Estaba borracho.
Miraste alrededor, instintivamente buscando un coche, tu voz aún gruesa por haber estado dormida.
“¿Manejaste hasta aquí?”
Él bajó la mirada, soltando una risa baja, amarga. “No. No te preocupes. No soy tan estúpido.”
Una pausa.
Luego, más bajo, como si hablara más para sí mismo que para ti.
“Pero sí soy un estúpido.”
Levantó la vista. Tenía los ojos rojos, llorosos. Llenos de dolor. Y te golpeó como un puñetazo en el pecho.
“¿Quieres que te lleve a casa?”, preguntaste con suavidad.
Negó con la cabeza lentamente.
Y entonces… silencio.
Solo ustedes dos parados, mirándose. La distancia entre los dos llena de cosas no dichas.
Abriste la boca, para preguntarle si estaba bien, para decirle que no era un estúpido, pero él habló primero.
“Perdón.”
Una palabra, rota y desgarrada.
“Alex, no tienes que–”
Pero entonces se arrodilló.
Te quedaste congelada.
El aliento se te atascó cuando él tomó tus manos, dudando, como si no estuviera seguro de si tenía derecho a tocarte. Cuando por fin envolvió tus dedos con los suyos, fue con suavidad, con fragilidad, casi con miedo. Hundió el rostro en tu abdomen, y lo sentiste, el temblor en sus hombros mientras empezaba a llorar.
“Perdóname”, susurró, con la voz quebrándose. “No debí haberte alejado. Es solo que… no lo puedo evitar. Siempre hago esto. Arruino todo. Estoy tan jodido. Lo siento.”
Tus manos buscaron su rostro, tomando sus mejillas mientras te inclinabas hacia él. Alzó la mirada, con los ojos llenos de lágrimas, desesperado por tu toque, como si intentara recordar cómo se sentía el amor.
Deslizaste tu pulgar por su mejilla, limpiando sus lágrimas.
“No te merezco”, murmuró, apenas audible.
Negaste con la cabeza al instante, tu propia voz comenzando a romperse.
“No. No digas eso. No estás jodido. No eres un estúpido. Solo estás… herido. Pero no tienes que pasar por esto solo. Necesitas ayuda, y eso está bien. Yo te puedo ayudar.”
Él se apoyó en tu mano, como si la necesitara. Como si necesitara algo, alguien, que lo mantuviera con los pies en la tierra.
“Perdón por alejarte”, volvió a susurrar. “No fue mi intención. Te lo juro. No volverá a pasar. Solo… por favor no me dejes otra vez.”
Te arrodillaste frente a él, envolviéndolo en tus brazos sin pensarlo, abrazándolo fuerte como si pudieras pegar todos sus pedazos rotos. Besaste su frente, firme, asegurándole que estabas ahí.
“No me voy a ningún lado,” susurraste. “Vas a estar bien. Vas a mejorar. Vamos adentro, ¿sí?”
Asintió contra tu hombro, y tú lo ayudaste a levantarse con suavidad, tomando su mano. Se sentía familiar.
Lo llevaste a tu cama, ese lugar donde habían vivido tantos momentos callados e íntimos, y él se acurrucó contigo como si temiera que fueras a desvanecerte. Rodeó tu cintura con los brazos, su cuerpo aferrado al tuyo, buscando tu calor.
Pasaste los dedos por su cabello, lentamente, con ternura. Frotaste su espalda con movimientos circulares.
Su respiración se hizo lenta. Se quedó dormido en tus brazos.
Tú no.
Simplemente te quedaste ahí, abrazándolo, mirando al techo mientras el peso de todo se asentaba sobre tu pecho.
Acariciando su cabello aún después de que él ya dormía profundamente.
Y temiendo la conversación que traería el amanecer.
—————————————————————————
perdón me gusta ver hombres patéticos de rodillas 😋
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble
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You’re lying across Alex’s lap while he plays a game, your head resting comfortably as his fingers absentmindedly run through your hair like it’s second nature. You let out a soft, content hum, closing your eyes and melting into his touch before slowly looking up at him with a smile spreading across your lips. He notices, glancing at you briefly while staying focused on the screen. “What?” he asks, distracted but curious. You laugh softly, admiring his focused expression. “Nothing, you just look cute when you make that face.” He raises an eyebrow without looking away. “What face?” “The one you make when you’re concentrating, when you stick your tongue out a little.” Realizing he’s doing it, he immediately pulls his tongue back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters defensively, making you smirk. “It’s cute,” you tease. He rolls his eyes, but there’s a small smile creeping in as he pauses the game, leaning down until his lips hover just above yours. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” he says, before pressing a firm kiss to your lips, smiling slightly when he feels you grin against him. <3










#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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Alex rose slowly from his knees, his face still wet from being buried between your trembling thighs, his hands having held them apart firmly as you struggled to keep them open on your own. You were a complete mess, legs shaking, chest rising and falling in rapid gasps as you tried to catch your breath, fingers tangled in his hair, clinging to him like a lifeline. Your face was flushed, your hair damp and sticking to your forehead, lips parted, but no words came, just soft, helpless whimpers and moans spilling out as aftershocks pulsed through you. Tears welled at the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation, your inner thighs slick with your own wetness. His lips glistening, still coated in your cum as he leaned in to press one last kiss to your sensitive clit, not breaking eye contact, making your breath hitch and your body twitch from the intensity. A needy sound escaped you, involuntary, as he moved slowly up your body, mouth trailing hot, reverent kisses along your stomach, between your breasts, across your chest, up your neck, each one making your skin shiver under his touch, until finally he reached your ear, his voice dropped into a soft murmur, full of heat and praise. “You did such a good job for me, pretty girl.” <3

#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff#quackity smut#quackity x reader smut
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Podrías hacer quackity x reader fic, como "confesión bajo la lluvia" que alguno de los dos se confiese?
Bajo la Lluvia
fluff, comfort
cantidad de palabras: 812
english version


La primera gota te golpeó la mejilla como una advertencia. Luego vino el aguacero.
“Mierda,” murmuraste por lo bajo, mirando hacia el cielo que de repente se había oscurecido.
Antes de que pudieras reaccionar, Alex tomó tu mano, puro instinto.
“¡Vamos! ¡Apúrate!” gritó sobre el sonido de la lluvia, jalándote con él mientras los dos rompían a correr, riendo entre jadeos.
Se refugiaron bajo el pequeño techo de una tienda cerrada, con el corazón acelerado, los pulmones ardiendo, empapados de pies a cabeza. Ya no tenía sentido, pero Alex aún así se quitó la chaqueta, completamente mojada, y la envolvió alrededor de tus hombros como si pudiera protegerte de algo.
Soltaste una risa entrecortada, mirando la tela empapada. “No creo que eso sirva de mucho.”
Él sonrió, esa sonrisa chueca que siempre te hace sonreír de vuelta.
“Es la intención que cuenta.”
Tus labios se curvaron en una sonrisa burlona “Todo un caballero. Me alegra saber que la caballerosidad no está muerta.”
Su sonrisa se suavizó, y sus ojos se quedaron en ti un segundo más de lo normal. Luego, con lentitud, alzó la mano y acomodó tu cabello mojado detrás de tu oído. Sus dedos se quedaron ahí, rozando tu piel apenas un segundo más de lo necesario. Ese toque te recorrió la espalda como un escalofrío.
Alzaste la mirada, encontrando sus ojos. Y algo cambió.
La risa desapareció. El juego se transformó en algo más suave, más profundo. Los dos se quedaron ahí, en silencio, escuchando la lluvia y el latido salvaje de sus corazones, mirándose como si buscaran entender lo que ese momento significaba.
No supiste en qué momento desapareció el espacio entre ustedes. Un segundo estaban separados por un pie, y al siguiente, sus rostros flotaban a centímetros. Su mirada bajó a tus labios, y tragaste saliva, tu voz apenas un susurro.
“¿Qué estás haciendo?”
Él soltó una risa baja y entrecortada, sus dedos ahora siguiendo con curiosidad la línea de tu mandíbula. “No tengo idea.”
La distancia desapareció por completo mientras se inclinaban, sin siquiera darse cuenta, hasta que sus labios rozaron los tuyos. Fue un beso suave, tímido, como una pregunta.
Pero la respuesta llegó rápido.
Y entonces se volvió más profundo. Más hambriento, más necesitado, como si los dos hubieran estado conteniéndose demasiado tiempo. Una de sus manos encontró tu cintura, la otra se enredó en tu cabello mientras te guiaba con suavidad hasta apoyarte contra el vidrio frío de la ventana de la tienda. Te derretiste contra él, en el calor de ese momento, aun cuando la lluvia helada seguía cayendo a su alrededor.
Cuando por fin se separaron, la respiración les salía rápida e irregular, las mejillas enrojecidas, los labios aún temblando. Se miraron, buscándose con la mirada, pero esta vez fue diferente. Como si algo, finalmente, hubiera encajado.
Él acarició de nuevo tu mandíbula con los dedos, casi como si no pudiera dejar de tocarte.
“Creo que me gustas,” susurró, con el corazón latiendo entre cada palabra.
Soltaste una risa suave, sin aliento, apoyando la frente contra la suya.
“¿Crees?”
Él también rió, algo avergonzado, y la tensión se rompió apenas lo suficiente para dejar que entrara un poco de alivio.
Se quedaron así un momento, con las frentes juntas, sonriendo como tontos.
Luego tu sonrisa se volvió más suave.
“Creo que tú también me gustas.”
Su sonrisa se encendió al instante, el alivio esparciéndose por su rostro como si pudiera respirar de nuevo.
“Entonces… ¿qué hacemos ahora?” preguntaste, con voz suave, aún tratando de recuperar el aliento.
Él dudó un instante, y luego habló con una sinceridad tranquila.
“Lo que tú quieras. Pero… quiero intentarlo. Quiero que esto funcione. Quiero que nosotros funcionemos.”
Parpadeaste, un poco sorprendida por lo serio que sonaba. Luego soltaste una pequeña risa.
“Me refería a cómo vamos a regresar a casa.”
Pero tu voz se suavizó. “Aunque… sí, eso también suena bien.”
Él soltó una risa corta, algo incómoda, rascándose la nuca. “Cierto. Sí. Eso también.”
Y entonces, sin soltar tu mano, dio un paso hacia la lluvia, el agua ya pegando su cabello a la frente, con una pequeña sonrisa en los labios.
“Te apuesto una carrera.”
Rodaste los ojos. “Nos vamos a enfermar.”
Pero su agarre se hizo un poco más firme, su pulgar acariciando suavemente tu piel. Sus ojos encontraron los tuyos, firmes y cálidos.
“No te preocupes,” dijo. “Yo te cuido.”
Y en ese momento, con los dedos entrelazados y el mundo empapado girando a su alrededor, le creíste.
Suspiraste, una mezcla de exasperación y cariño, rindiéndote al fin. Una sonrisa apareció en tus labios mientras tu corazón latía con fuerza.
“Está bien, va.”
Su rostro se iluminó, su sonrisa creció mientras te daba un pequeño jalón de la mano. Y así, otra vez, los dos salieron corriendo bajo la lluvia, riendo, empapados y sin aliento, sin soltarse.
Ni por un segundo.
<3
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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Beneath the Rain
fluff, comfort
word count: 784
versión en español


The first drop hit your cheek like a warning. Then came the downpour.
“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, glancing up at the suddenly darkened sky.
Before you could even react, Alex grabbed your hand, pure instinct.
“Come on! Hurry up!” he shouted over the rain, tugging you with him as you both broke into a sprint, laughter bubbling out between gasps.
You ducked under the narrow overhang of a closed shop, hearts pounding, lungs burning, both of you completely soaked through. It was pointless now, but Alex still pulled off his drenched jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders like a shield.
You gave a breathy laugh, looking down at the soggy fabric. “I don’t think that’s gonna help.”
He grinned, that familiar lopsided smile that always managed to make you smile back.
“It’s the thought that counts.”
You smirked. “What a gentleman. Glad to know chivalry’s still alive.”
His grin softened, eyes lingering on you for a beat too long. Then, slowly, he reached out and tucked a soaked strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers stayed there a second longer than necessary, brushing lightly against your skin. The touch sent a shiver down your spine.
You looked up, meeting his eyes. And something shifted.
The laughter faded. The teasing melted into something quieter, deeper. You both stood there, silent, listening to the rain and the wild thrum of your own hearts, eyes locked like you were trying to figure out what this moment meant.
You weren’t sure when the space disappeared. One second, you were standing a foot apart, the next, your faces hovered inches from each other. His gaze flicked down to your lips, just for a second, and you swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper.
“What are you doing?”
He let out a quiet, breathy laugh, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw with careful curiosity. “I have no idea.”
The distance between you faded completely as you leaned in, neither of you really realizing it until his lips brushed yours. Just a light, tentative kiss, like a question.
But the answer came quickly.
And then it deepened. Hungrier, needier, like you’d both been holding something in for too long. One of his hands found your waist, the other tangled in your hair as he gently backed you up against the cool glass of the shop window. You melted into him, into the warmth of the moment, even as the cold rain poured around you.
When you finally broke apart, your breaths came fast and uneven, cheeks flushed, lips tingling. You stared at each other, eyes searching, but this time, it was different. Like something had clicked into place.
He gently ran his fingers along your jaw again, almost like he couldn’t stop touching you.
“I think I like you,” he murmured, voice barely audible.
You let out a soft, breathless laugh, your forehead resting lightly against his.
“You think?”
He laughed too, sheepish, and the tension broke just enough to let in a little lightness again.
You stayed like that for a moment, foreheads touching, grinning like idiots.
Then your smile softened.
“I think I like you too.”
His smile lit up instantly, relief spreading across his face.
“So… what should we do now?” you asked, your voice gentle, still catching your breath.
He hesitated, then spoke with quiet sincerity.
“Whatever you want. But… I wanna try. I wanna make this work. I wanna make us work.”
You blinked, a little surprised by how serious he sounded. Then you let out a small laugh.
“I meant, how are we gonna get home.”
But your voice softened. “But yeah… that sounds nice too.”
He gave a short, awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Right. Yeah. That too.”
Then, without letting go of your hand, he stepped back out into the rain, water already plastering his hair to his forehead, a small smirk on his face.
“I’ll race you.”
You rolled your eyes. “We’re gonna get sick.”
But his grip tightened just slightly, his thumb brushing comfortingly over your skin. His eyes met yours, steady and warm.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of you.”
And in that moment, with your fingers intertwined and the world around you soaked and spinning, you believed him.
You sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection, finally giving in. A smile tugged at your lips as your heart pounded in your chest.
“Okay, fine.”
His face lit up, his grin stretching wider as he gave your hand a playful tug. And just like that, the two of you were running again, laughing, soaked and breathless, but not letting go of each other.
Not even for a second.
<3
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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can you make a quackity x reader fic where they are both drunk after a wedding, it’s late at night, and he’s in a suit?
Someday
fluff, comfort
word count: 536
versión en español


It was late. It was the kind of late night where everything felt a little blurry, like the world had slowed down. Laughter floated through the air, and the music played on, just for the last few people still clinging to the dance floor. Everyone else had trickled away, tipsy and content, but you and Alex stayed, swaying slowly under the dim lights.
His suit jacket hung open, tie loose, a few buttons undone. His hair was a little messy, in a way that only made him look more endearing. His cheeks were flushed, maybe from the alcohol, or maybe from being this close to you. Either way, he looked happy. That kind of happy you don’t fake. That soft, slightly drunken grin that wouldn’t leave his face.
You were barefoot now, your heels long forgotten, your feet sore but not enough for you to care. The hem of your dress swayed gently as he spun you around, clumsy but careful, like he didn’t want to let go. He pulled you in close, arms wrapped around your waist like he meant to stay there forever.
“You know,” he murmured, voice low and playful in your ear, “we could just do it. Get married right now. Like a Vegas wedding. I’m sure no one would mind.”
You laughed, leaning into him. “You’re drunk.”
“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “That’s the spirit.”
“I don’t even have a wedding dress.”
“You don’t need one,” he said, quieter now. “You look perfect in everything.”
Your heart stuttered a little. He wasn’t teasing now, his tone had shifted, softened. For a moment, the music and the laughter faded, and all that was left was the way he was looking at you. Like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He didn’t say anything, not right away. Just stared at you, quietly, like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face.
Then, softly, almost like he didn’t want to scare you away, he asked, “Would you? …Marry me someday?”
There was no big speech. No ring. Just a gentle question and eyes that were searching yours, full of hope and a bit of nerves, like he didn’t know what you’d say.
Your expression softened. A small smile tugged at your lips as you gave a quiet, steady nod. “Yeah… I would.”
His face lit up. That grin returned in full force, wide and joyful. Without warning, he scooped you up in his arms, bridal style, like it had just happened, like this was your wedding day and you’d just said “I do.”
“Alex!” you laughed, clinging to him, arms around his neck.
He spun you once, careful not to drop you, that same big smile still on his face. “Guess I’m just getting some practice in.”
He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead, holding you like you were something precious, like he’d just won the whole damn world. His smile turning into something a little more smug.
“But for now,” he murmured, “I think I should just take you home and fuck you like it’s our wedding night.”
You smirked back, matching his energy without missing a beat. “Make it a week. And fuck me like it’s our honeymoon.”
<3
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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Algún Día
fluff, comfort
cantidad de palabras: 558
english version


Era tarde. De esas noches en las que todo se siente un poco borroso, como si el mundo se moviera más lento. La risa flotaba en el aire, y la música seguía sonando, solo para las pocas personas que aún se aferraban a la pista de baile. Todos los demás ya se habían ido, contentos y medio borrachos, pero tú y Alex se quedaron, moviéndose lentamente bajo las luces bajas.
Su saco estaba desabrochado, la corbata suelta, con algunos botones de la camisa abiertos. Su cabello estaba un poco despeinado, de esa forma que solo lo hacía ver más relajado. Tenía las mejillas sonrojadas, tal vez por el alcohol, o tal vez por estar tan cerca de ti. De cualquier forma, se veía feliz. Ese tipo de felicidad que no se puede fingir. Con esa sonrisa suave, ligeramente borracha, que no se le despegaba del rostro.
Tú ya te habías olvidado de tus tacones hace un rato, te dolían los pies pero no lo suficiente como para que te importara. El borde de tu vestido se movía suavemente mientras él te hacía girar, torpe pero con cuidado, como si no quisiera soltarte. Te atrajo más cerca, con los brazos alrededor de tu cintura como si quisiera quedarse ahí para siempre.
“¿Sabes?”, murmuró, con la voz baja y juguetona junto a tu oído, “podríamos hacerlo. Casarnos ahora mismo. Como una boda en Las Vegas. Estoy seguro de que a nadie le importaría.”
Te reíste, apoyándote en él. “Estás borracho.”
“Exacto,” dijo, sonriendo. “Esa es la actitud.”
“Ni siquiera tengo vestido de novia.”
“No necesitas uno,” dijo, ahora en un tono más suave. “Te ves perfecta con cualquier cosa.”
Tu corazón dio un pequeño brinco. Ya no estaba bromeando, su tono había cambiado, se había vuelto más tierno. Por un momento, la música y las risas se desvanecieron, y lo único que existía era la forma en que te miraba. Como si fueras lo más hermoso que había visto en su vida.
No dijo nada de inmediato. Solo te miró, en silencio, como si intentara memorizar cada detalle de tu rostro.
Y entonces, suavemente, casi como si no quisiera espantarte, preguntó, “¿Te casarías conmigo… algún día?”
No hubo discurso. Ni anillo. Solo una pregunta sencilla y unos ojos que buscaban los tuyos, llenos de esperanza y un poco de nervios, como si no supiera qué ibas a responder.
Tu expresión se suavizó. Una pequeña sonrisa se dibujó en tus labios mientras asentías despacio, con una voz tranquila. “Obvio.”
Su rostro se iluminó. Esa sonrisa regresó con toda su fuerza, amplia y llena de alegría. Sin previo aviso, te levantó en brazos, como si fueras su novia recién casada, como si realmente acabaran de decir “sí, acepto”.
“¡Alex!”, te reíste, abrazándolo por el cuello.
Te giró una vez, con cuidado de no soltarte, esa misma sonrisa enorme aún en su cara. “Supongo que solo estoy practicando.”
Besó tu frente con firmeza, como si fueras algo valioso, como si acabara de ganar el mundo entero. Su sonrisa se transformó en algo un poco más juguetón.
“Pero por ahora,” murmuró, “creo que debería llevarte a casa y cogerte como si fuera nuestra noche de bodas.”
Tú le devolviste la sonrisa con la misma actitud juguetona, sin perder el ritmo. “Mejor una semana… y fóllame como si estuviéramos en nuestra luna de miel.”
<3
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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Can u do Alex x reader
She’s in a mood cuz she’s pregnant and someone said something
For Both of You
angst, comfort, pregnancy
word count: 803
versión en español


You were pregnant. And Alex, your Alex, was a private person. Always had been. He guarded his personal life like it was sacred, and you respected that. He kept his world quiet, safe, separate from the chaos of the internet. Especially when it came to you. And now, your baby.
So, when he announced a break from streaming, it wasn’t a surprise to you. He wanted time. Time to focus on the two of you, to be present, to protect what mattered most. Most of his fans understood. They sent love, well wishes, told him to take care. But then there was the smaller group. The loud ones. The cruel ones.
You hadn’t gone looking for them. You weren’t scrolling with purpose. It just… happened. A few flicks of your thumb, and there they were. Post after post. Comment after comment.
Blaming you.
Calling you clingy, dramatic, hormonal. Saying you were “knocked up” and ruining his career. That you changed him. That you were the reason he stepped away. That it didn’t make sense, you were the one pregnant, not him. Why should he have to stop streaming?
You knew this would happen. You weren’t naive. It had happened before. And Alex had done his best to shield you from it. But there was only so much he could protect you from.
And yeah, you knew they were wrong. You knew better. But that didn’t stop it from hurting. From making you doubt.
You tried to hide it. God, you really did, but your face gave you away. Your chest tightened, your throat burned, and the weight of it all sat heavy in your chest.
The worst part? You were hormonal. Pregnancy had turned your emotions into something wild and unpredictable. Everything felt bigger. Deeper. And you hated it.
You were holding your breath and didn’t even realize it until Alex knelt in front of you, his hands warm around yours.
“Hey… you okay?” His voice was soft, cautious. Then more urgent. “Is it the baby?”
You shook your head, but the look in your eyes was enough. He knew.
Without a word, he reached for his phone, ready to fight, ready to defend you. But you caught his wrist.
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, voice cracking. “It’s stupid. They’re right. I’m just being dramatic-”
“Stop.” His voice cut through yours, calm but firm. “It’s not stupid. And you’re not being dramatic.”
He held your hands tighter, locking eyes with you in a way that made your breath stutter. Your eyes burned again. You hated how easily the tears came now.
“I know,” you whispered, voice trembling. “But I didn’t mean to make it about me. They’re right. You didn’t have to stop streaming-”
“You didn’t make it about you.”
“But you did take a break. For me. And they hate me for it.”
Alex’s gaze didn’t waver. “I didn’t take a break because you asked me to. I took a break because I wanted to. Because nothing on any screen matters more than being here for you. For both of you.”
You searched his eyes, like you were still trying to find the lie. But there wasn’t one. You believed him. And that belief let your shoulders drop just a little. You looked down, let out a soft, bitter laugh.
“I hate that it gets to me,” you admitted, voice small.
Alex sighed gently, reaching up to lift your chin so you’d look at him.
“I know,” he said. “It gets to me too.”
He hesitated for a moment, then added, “But you know what gets to me more? The thought of you sitting here, thinking you’re anything less than the strongest, most incredible person I’ve ever known.”
You rolled your eyes, blinking through tears, a shaky laugh escaping your lips. “God, that was cheesy.”
He mirrored your eye roll with a crooked smile, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Yeah. But you loved it.”
“I did.”
He reached for his phone again.
“You don’t have to-”
“I know I don’t.” He looked at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “But I want to.”
You hesitated. “They’re gonna twist your words, you know?”
He gave a small shrug. “They always will. But I said what I needed to say.”
And just like that, he hit post.
Then he climbed into bed beside you, pulling you gently into his arms. One arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, the other resting on your baby bump. He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead.
You closed your eyes for just a moment.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” you murmured back.
And for the first time in a while, you felt it.
You weren’t ruining anything.
You were the reason he had something real to come home to.
<3
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someone sent this like a month ago and i completely forgot about it until now, im sorry anon i hope you like it 😓😓
#quackity imagine#quackity scenario#quackity fanfic#quackity headcannons#quackity x reader#quackity x y/n#quackity x you#quackity drabble#quackity fluff
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