nunufx.

summary: what it's like dating cameron cade!

pairing: cameron cade x blackfem!reader

warnings: mostly fluff, some nsfw content, cam's an ass man in this, not proofread!

notes: might use some of these as prompts for fics hmmmm

cameron cade who . . . loves to take you everywhere he goes. whether it's the store, to practice or to a party, he has to take you with him. it's comforting to him knowing you're there with him at all times, plus that's just the type of person he is ─── he wants to live in your skin.

Pairing: Cameron Cade x black!fem!user Summary: You're out with your friends when Cameron facetimes you because he needs help. Note: Just a short lil story from anon before i finish the request i got, also from another anon. Cause im lowkey stuck at the smut part, so i got to do a fluff. Any who, as always. Sorry for any bad grammar, not proofread.

You were out with your friends, you guys were having brunch and shopping at the mall. You guys are at the mall right now, walking around, going store to store buying stuff. At one point you were in a store and bought some shoes that you thought Cameron would like for football. You and your friends spent about an hour in the mall and you were finally leaving.

In the car as on of your friends drove, you heard your phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket just to see it was Cameron facetiming you. You grabbing your airpods out of your pocket and connected then, putting one in your ear before answering the phone.

"Hey baby, we just left the mall, i bought you some--" "Baby i need help" You heard Cameron say though your airpod. "With what, Cam?" You asked "The laundry" "What about the laundry?" You saw him set up his phone against what you could only guess was the washer. "Umm" He reached up, scratching his head. "Which clothes do i put in the dryer?" He asked "You for real?" You questioned "Yes ma." "Why are you asking me?" "Cause mama, i dont wanna shrink shit." He said as he moved out of the camera, only to come back in frame with wet clothes in his hands.

You let out a laugh "Oh my gosh, you're serious?" "You think im playing? Yes ma, im serious." "Okay, okay. I'll help."

You spent almost ten minutes telling Cameron which clothes to put in the dryer and which to hang dry. Once you finished he smiled. "I mean, i could have totally did that by myself. I was just letting you watch me do it so you wont be complaining later." He said, running his hand over his hair. "Right, right. Whatever you say boo" "I love you" He said coming close to the camera, doing duck lips. You let out a giggle. "I love you too" You said, bringing your phone closer to your face. Doing duck lips as well, before you both pulled away. "Alright, see you when you get home ma." "See you, baby"

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summary they'd never argued. not like this. turns out being married meant learning things about each other you couldn't learn any other way.

prompt – first argument, miscommunication, he breaks first, soft making up warnings – argument, mild emotional distress, soft ending 🎀 word count – ~2.5k note – two stubborn people learning each other 😭🎀 lover boy sharky breaking first was inevitable and i loved every second of writing it 🫶

requests are open :)

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It started small.

That was the thing about first arguments — they never started where they ended. They started somewhere ordinary and manageable and then something shifted, one wrong word landing in the wrong place at the wrong moment, and suddenly you were somewhere neither of you had been before and neither of you quite knew the way out.

It had been a long week. That was the honest context of it. Sharky had been in and out — filming, editing, meetings that ran long, the particular exhaustion of a schedule that didn't leave much room for anything else. You'd been busy too, your own work bleeding into evenings, the two of you passing each other in the apartment with the distracted energy of people who were present but not quite there.

You'd been married for four months. You were still learning what that looked like when things weren't easy.

The argument started over something that didn't matter. A plan that got changed without proper communication — he'd assumed, you'd assumed differently, and neither of you had checked before it became a problem. By the time you were actually talking about it the conversation had picked up weight it hadn't started with, old frustrations attaching themselves to it, and then you'd both said things that were sharper than you meant them.

He'd gone quiet. You'd gone quiet.

And then you'd both gone to separate rooms, which was new and uncomfortable and felt wrong in a way neither of you had words for yet.

The apartment was very still.

You were in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed, not really doing anything. Just sitting with the particular awful feeling of an argument that hadn't resolved, the words still circling, the version of yourself that had said them sitting uncomfortably in your chest.

You weren't wrong. You held onto that. Some of what you'd said had been fair and true and needed saying.

You also hadn't said it well. That part you were less comfortable holding onto.

Through the wall you could hear nothing, which meant he was doing the same thing — sitting with it, the way he sat with things, quietly and for longer than most people needed. That was the thing about Sharky you were still mapping. He processed slowly. He needed the space to turn something over before he could talk about it properly.

You processed out loud. Always had. The silence felt like distance to you in a way it didn't feel to him.

You'd known this about each other, theoretically. You were learning what it meant in practice.

Forty minutes passed.

You heard his footsteps in the hallway. Slow. Stopping outside the bedroom door.

A pause.

Then the door opened.

He looked tired.

Not the tired of a long week — though that was there too — but the specific tired of someone who'd been sitting with something heavy for forty minutes and had come to a decision about it. His eyes found you immediately, the way they always did, and the set of his jaw was different from how it had been during the argument. Less defended. More honest.

He crossed the room and sat down beside you on the bed. Not touching — a few inches of space between you — and for a moment neither of you said anything.

"I didn't mean it the way it came out," he said finally.

His voice was quiet. Not apologetic in the way that was just about ending the discomfort — genuinely quiet, the way he was when something actually mattered.

"Which part," you said. Not unkindly. Just honestly.

He exhaled. Looked at his hands. "The part about you not telling me things."

You were quiet for a moment. That had been the sharpest thing he'd said — the implication underneath it, that you kept him at a distance, that you didn't communicate. It had landed wrong because it had landed on something you were already insecure about.

"I do tell you things," you said.

"I know." He said it immediately. "I know you do. I said it wrong." He paused. "I was frustrated and I said it like it was about you when it was about me not asking the right questions." He looked up at you. "That's on me."

You looked at him. The honest face — not the YouTube face, not the public one, just him, sitting in your bedroom in the quiet of an evening that had gone sideways.

"I assumed," you said. "About the plans. I should have checked instead of just assuming you knew."

"I should have told you when things changed instead of thinking you'd figure it out."

"We both just—"

"Didn't talk to each other," he said. Simply. "Yeah."

The space between you on the bed felt different now. Still there, but lighter.

"We're both stubborn," you said.

The corner of his mouth moved. Just barely. "Yeah."

"That's going to be a problem sometimes."

"Probably." He turned to face you slightly. "We'll figure it out."

You looked at him. The certainty in it — not breezy, not dismissive, just the quiet solidity of someone who meant what they said completely. We'll figure it out. Like it wasn't even a question. Like the argument was a thing that had happened and now they were on the other side of it and the only direction was forward.

That was the thing about him you'd fallen in love with, early, before you'd even had words for it. The steadiness underneath everything else. The way he held things.

"I don't like fighting with you," you said quietly.

"I know." He reached across the space between you and took your hand. Slowly. Carefully. Like he wasn't entirely sure of his welcome yet and was asking rather than assuming. "I don't like it either."

You let him take it. Felt his fingers close around yours, warm and familiar, the particular way he held your hand that you'd memorised without meaning to.

"It felt weird," you said. "Being in separate rooms."

"Yeah." His thumb moved across your knuckles. Once, slow. "I didn't like that."

"Is that why you came?"

He looked at you with the expression that undid you sometimes — the completely unguarded one, the one that was just him without any of the layers.

"I came because you're my wife," he said simply. "And I don't want to sit in the living room when you're in here." He paused. "And because I was wrong about some of it and I needed to say that."

You were quiet for a moment.

"I was wrong about some of it too," you said.

"I know." He said it without smugness, without satisfaction. Just acknowledgement. "We both were."

The room had gone fully dark around you without either of you noticing. The city outside the window, the quiet of the apartment, the two of you on the edge of the bed with your hands joined in the space between.

"We're going to argue again," you said. Not pessimistically. Just honestly.

"Probably," he agreed.

"We're both too stubborn not to."

"Definitely." This time the corner of his mouth went further — a real movement, the beginning of the smile he couldn't always help. "You're very stubborn."

"You're worse."

"I came in here first," he pointed out.

"Because you broke first."

"Because I was right to." He said it simply. No ego in it. "Sitting out there wasn't going to fix anything."

You looked at him for a long moment. Then you leaned sideways, slowly, until your head found his shoulder. He didn't move — just let you settle, adjusted slightly to make room, his hand still holding yours between you.

"Next time," you said into his shoulder. "Can we just — talk about it faster?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "We can do that."

"The separate rooms thing was horrible."

"Agreed." His head dropped slightly, resting against yours. "Won't do that again."

"Promise?"

A pause. His hand squeezed yours once.

"Promise," he said.

You stayed like that — the two of you on the edge of the bed in the dark, heads together, hands joined, the argument somewhere behind you now and the rest of everything still ahead. Four months married. Still learning. Still figuring out what it looked like to navigate this with another person, to be stubborn together instead of at each other.

"Sharky," you said, after a while.

"Mm."

"I love you."

The pause was brief. Warm.

"I love you too," he said. Quietly. Like it was the simplest and most obvious thing in the world. Because for him, it was.

You closed your eyes. Felt him shift slightly beside you, his arm coming around you properly now, both of you leaning back onto the bed without quite deciding to, the way things happened when you stopped overthinking them.

The city carried on outside.

In the apartment, everything was quiet and settled and fine.

First argument. First time finding their way back.

Not the last. But maybe the hardest — because now they knew they could.

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summary sharky films everything. he did not expect this to end up in the vlog.

prompt – baller league vlog, jealous husband sharky, niko's teammate tries it, on camera warnings – mild jealousy, possessive sharky, youtube comment chaos word count – ~3k note – lover boy sharky stepping in mid vlog because someone tried it the comments were not ready — thank you for this request 🩷🫶

requests are open :)

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The Monday vlog had a format.

It had always had a format — Sharky arriving at the ground, the warmup footage, the pre-match interview segment where he grabbed whoever was around and stuck a camera in their face, the match itself, the post-match chaos. His viewers knew the rhythm of it. Knew what to expect.

What they didn't expect, this particular Monday, was you.

You didn't come to every match — your schedule didn't always allow it — but when you did Sharky's energy was noticeably different on camera. More settled. Like something that had been slightly off-centre clicked back into place. His regular viewers had noticed it over time, had catalogued it in comments and clips, had made edits about it that he'd watched on your sofa and pretended not to be affected by.

Today you were here, and he'd grabbed you for the pre-match interview segment before you'd even found your seat, camera up, grinning already.

"Right," he said, turning the camera between you both. "Special guest today — my wife. Say hi."

"Hi," you said, obligingly, to the camera.

"She's been dragged along against her will—"

"I came voluntarily—"

"She says that—"

"Sharky I drove here—"

"She drove here," he confirmed to the camera, like this was breaking news. "Voluntarily. Remarkable scenes." He turned to you properly, slipping into the interview energy that came naturally to him, the easy warmth of someone who was good at this. "Okay so — SDS versus NDL today. Predictions?"

You gave your prediction — SDS, obviously, with the particular confidence of someone who had been listening to Sharky talk about this for months and had absorbed more information than you'd technically signed up for. He did the bit where he pretended to be offended by your reasoning, you did the bit where you defended your reasoning, and it was the kind of easy banter that his viewers would love because it was completely real and both of you knew it.

He walked you toward the spectator area after, camera still going, narrating for the vlog.

"Getting her settled before I go warm up," he told the camera, glancing between you and the lens with the comfortable multitasking of someone who'd been doing this for years. "She'll be here, I'll be over there—"

"I know where you'll be—"

"I'm explaining for the vlog—"

"You're being dramatic for the vlog—"

"Same thing." He grinned. Looked at the camera. "She's very unsympathetic to the creative process."

You were about to respond when Niko appeared.

Niko with three of his NDL teammates, post-warmup, the easy energy of a group who'd been doing this together long enough to be comfortable. Sharky liked Niko — most people liked Niko — and he kept the camera going as they approached, the natural footage of two sides crossing paths before a match.

"Sharky!" Niko said, clapping him up. Looked at you. "And Mrs Sharky, wagwan."

"Hey Niko," you said, smiling.

The introductions happened the way they always did — quick, easy, everyone knowing roughly who everyone was from the internet if nothing else. Sharky kept the camera moving, getting the footage, half his attention on you and half on the lens the way it always was during filming.

Which was how he caught it.

One of Niko's teammates — tall, confident, the kind of person who moved through rooms like he expected them to rearrange for him — had positioned himself slightly too close to you during the introductions. Close enough that Sharky's attention, already split, snapped back and recalibrated.

He kept filming.

"You follow the league?" the teammate — Sharky was going to find out his name later and he was going to remember it — asked you. Directed at you specifically. Not at the group.

"A bit," you said. Pleasantly. "My husband plays."

My husband. Sharky heard it. Filed it. Kept filming.

"Which team?"

"SDS." You nodded at Sharky, who was standing right there, camera in hand, watching this unfold in real time.

The teammate glanced at Sharky. Back at you. The glance said something that Sharky did not particularly enjoy.

"You should come watch NDL sometime," the teammate said. Still just to you. Still with the particular quality of attention that had absolutely nothing to do with football. "Better football."

Sharky lowered the camera.

Not all the way. Just enough. The lens still running, still catching everything, because he hadn't thought to turn it off and later he would have feelings about that but right now he was focused on something else.

He stepped forward. One step. Beside you, close enough that the geometry of the group shifted.

"She's good for matches," Sharky said pleasantly. His voice was completely even. His hand found the small of your back — settled there, warm and certain and entirely deliberate. "She's at most of mine."

The teammate looked at the hand. Looked at Sharky. Did the full recalibration — the camera, the ring on your finger that he had apparently not clocked during the introduction, the particular quality of Sharky's pleasant expression that wasn't quite as pleasant as it sounded.

Niko, to his credit, had already clocked the whole thing and was watching it with the expression of someone who found this deeply entertaining and was sensible enough not to say so.

"Good match today," Niko said, smoothly redirecting. "We'll see what happens on the pitch."

"Yeah," Sharky agreed. Still pleasant. Hand still exactly where it was. "We will."

The group moved on. Niko caught Sharky's eye as he went and gave him the look — the small, knowing look that said I saw all of that — and Sharky gave him a look back that said I know you did.

He turned back to you.

You were looking at him with the expression — the one that was exasperated and fond in equal measure, the one he'd learned to read as you're ridiculous and I love you and we're going to talk about this later.

He raised the camera back up.

"Right," he said, to the lens, with the complete composure of a man who had not just done exactly what he'd done. "Getting her settled. Then warmup." He glanced at you sideways. "You good?"

"Fine," you said. The fondness winning over the exasperation. "Go warm up."

He pressed a kiss to your temple — on camera, deliberately, in the way that wasn't performance but also wasn't not performance — and headed toward the pitch.

Behind him, he heard you laugh quietly.

He was smiling before he'd taken three steps.

The vlog went up that evening.

He'd edited it the way he always did — match footage, the banter, the goals, the post-match chaos — and he'd left the interaction in. All of it. The interview, the introduction, the moment with the teammate, the hand on your back, the kiss on your temple.

He hadn't planned to leave it in. It had just seemed dishonest to cut it.

By midnight the comments were unmanageable.

youtube comments — monday baller league vlog

@sharkywifeyera: the way he lowered the camera. he didn't even turn it off. he just. lowered it. and stepped forward. and put his hand on her back. I AM NOT WELL

@iluvsharks: "she's at most of mine" said with that smile while his hand was already moving. husband behaviour of the highest order.

@plainjade: niko KNEW. niko saw it happening and did the redirect and said nothing. niko is a real one.

@rawrxdeex: the kiss on the temple at the end. on camera. deliberate. he wanted it in the vlog. he CHOSE to leave it in. sharky you romantic menace.

@dragqueen: that teammate really looked at a married woman, clocked the camera guy standing next to her, and still tried it. the audacity. the lack of self preservation.

@needsharky: "my husband plays" she said it so fast. she clocked it before he did and handled it immediately. they're both so aware of each other it's insane.

@softlauncharchive: he edited this vlog himself. he sat down and went through the footage and decided to keep all of it in. every second. that's not an accident that's a statement.

@internetcrying: the way his whole energy changed when he stepped forward. still smiling. completely calm. absolutely not calm.

@loverboyera: niko watching the whole thing go down with that face 😭 he knew exactly what was happening and said absolutely nothing. smart man.

@sharkysgirlera: she said my husband plays and pointed at him like he wasn't standing right there with a camera. queen behaviour.

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

Third date and Bakugou feels like he's ready to put a ring on your finger, go to court and change your last name to his (or his own to yours, whatever you want tbh).

"You like spicy food right?" You grinned, completely unaware of his inner turmoil, holding out a packet of red pepper gummies, something that he didn't even know existed, "I was at the convenience store earlier, thought of you when I saw these."

If he wasn't so keen on never embarrassing himself infront of you, he'd probably kneel on the ground right here, in the middle of a busy cafe.

Instead he leaned forward and took the packet from your hands, fingers brushing together, "You think about me, Babe?" He teased, tearing it open and tossing one in his mouth.

You puffed your cheeks, "Of course I do, don't you think about me?" You tilted your head, mostly looking for his response, partly his reaction to the gummies.

He wants to admit the truth, that he does think about you, when he wakes up in the morning and thinks about the day where you'd moved in together, where you'd cook together, eat together, sleep together, shower together, he'd drive you to work, pick you up from work, watch movies on your couch, hold your hands, kiss your cheeks, your lips, your puss—

"I do." He thinks he should stop thinking for a bit, adjusting in his seat and his pants, he reached for your hands, tracing your ring finger, "Think about you all the time too."

You gleamed in sheer joy at him, utterly delighted with him reciprocating.

He thinks about figuring out your ring size.

Itadori Yuuji x f!Reader

summary: Your technique allows you to hear the thoughts of others, which you’ve spent years learning how to filter. Unfortunately, Itadori Yuuji has very loud thoughts.

warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, smut, aged up characters, mutual thirsting, idiots in lust, reader’s technique involves mind reading, poor reader is losing her mind, sooooo much fantasizing about sooo many things: fingering, oral, spit kink, dry humping, exhibitionism

notes: happy birthday, best boy! genuinely so shocked at how quickly I turned this around. literally dropped every other wip to get it up today, but anything for best boy! (btw, this will end where it ends. if you want a follow-up use your own imagination instead of asking for a second part.)

words: 2.9k

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not like, reblog, or comment

They call you the Psychic Sorcerer. Well, not they. It’s really just Gojo — or at least it’s really just Gojo to your face. Everyone else knows how much you dislike the moniker because you’re not psychic.

Your cursed technique allows you to form a telepathic connection — whether it’s with people, animals, or cursed spirits — and manipulate your target. And as part of your technique, you can see the thoughts of others, which is what psychics do, but you’re not a psychic.

Psychics look into crystal balls and read tarot cards. They claim to tell the future, speak to the dead, and exorcise spirits. Yes, you also do that last one, but you’re not a psychic. You’re a sorcerer, which you’ll admit probably sounds just as spurious to non-sorcerers…

Your technique is strong, but it’s taken you years to hone. When you were younger, you used to unknowingly slip into the minds of your playmates and the neighborhood pets, leaving them in a trance and you overwhelmed. It’s only through training and your time at Jujutsu High that you learned how to focus your technique and form a link only when you mean to.

However, there’s a part of you that thinks you’ll never be able to fully master your technique. For all your skill with it now as an adult, and after all the trial, error, and embarrassing missteps you made as a teenager, there are times when you still can’t help but pick up a stray thought if it happens to be loud enough — like two radio waves crossing. 

And Itadori Yuuji’s thoughts are loud. 

Tumblr is rolling out a new reblog/notes system that completely disregards creators. In their new system, they're taking a twitter-style approach where reblogs will have their own notes that DO NOT contribute to the original post's notes.

Because of this, creators will no longer be able to see an accurate display of likes/reblogs/etc. This is completely altering the way feedback and responses to works are going to be received on this website.

If you come across a fan work that you enjoy, please take the extra step to go to OPs original post, and leave your comment/like/reblog there. Or go one step further and send an ask to OP directly to tell them what you liked!

Summary: You and Sharky tried baking cookies at home together, but it was just him messing around but he'd eventually make it up to u.

Warnings:kissing

Genre:fluff

"Sharky put that down." You said in a stern voice as you watched him eat the cookie dough. He looked at you with a sheepish grin "sorry" he said, stifling a laugh.

He trying to keep a straight face. You sigh, you couldn't stay mad at him for long, his smile melted you instantly. He passes you the flour and watches you cook, and he walks over to you and hugs u from behind.

"You look so cute when you're focused, love," he said teasingly, and you roll your eyes playfully.

He ties your hair back so it doesn't get in the way, and you smile softly. There was comfortable silence in the kitchen, and the warmth of sharkys touch added to the atmosphere and despite the chaos, u felt at peace with him.

But the silence didn't last for long. he had already found another way he could annoy you as he grabbed the chocolate chips from the cabinet and started throwing them at you.

"You wanna do that, huh?" You said playfully, throwing them back at him aswell as him grabbing a bag of flour and throwing it at you, and you obviously threw more back.

You both laugh, and the entire kitchen floor had pieces of chocolate chips scattered across and flour all over you guys.

"You're cleaning that off the floor you know," you said, smiling. "Okay fairs" he said, laughing.

You had done more messing around than actual baking. "This is all your fault, you know," you said,in your best serious voice, but you couldn't help but crack a smile eventually.

"That's not fair, you cant just put the blame on me only," he said, rolling his eyes playfully. "There's something on you're face" you said, looking at him.

"Where?" He said, raising an eyebrow. You kiss him, and he kisses back almost instantly.

You eventually pull away laughing slightly from the look on his face "Okay,that was kinda smooth," he said, panting slightly but smiling nonetheless.

You guys definitely created more of a mess than actually making the cookies like you were planning to from the start.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, u made me look a halloween costume So the least you can do is clean all this up" you said playfully, but u definitely meant the cleaning up part.

He watched you as you walked away and then looked at himself,completely covered in flour.

He laughs a bit, knowing he started the whole food fight, but he felt guilty for making you give up on making the cookies because of him.

So being the boyfriend he was, he googled a recipe and tried his best to follow it and make the cookies by himself to surprise you before you came back.

Even though he probably got a few of the measurements mixed up he manged to get them in the oven in time and waited for them to bake.

In that time, he cleaned up the kitchen and sweeped the floor making sure it was all tidy from the previous mess earlier.

He was definitely getting a tired from all the cleaning and baking but he knew you could come out of the shower any minute now so he took the cookies out of the oven and let them cool down before putting the icing on and decorating them.

he wasn't the best when it came to cooking but he was impressed with how well they came out.

Meanwhile, you had just gotten dressed, and you came out of the shower, and your nose instantly picked up on the sweet smell coming from the kitchen.

You were confused since you hadn't baked anything since you were litterally just showering. Just then, sharky approached you with an excited look.

"Sit on the sofa, I have something for you I made." You sit down reluctantly and wait for sharky while he goes to the kitchen.

"Close your eyes" he said, holding the plate of cookies behind his back. "This better not be some sort of prank" you said, closing your eyes, still suspicious of sharky.

"Now open" he said, presenting the plate of cookies infront of you and your face lights up and you smile widely "Is this for me?" You said in slight disbelief.

"Yeah, I felt bad for earlier." he said with a sheepish smile.

You found it absolutely adorable how he did that all for you.

You kiss his cheek, and he smiles at you fondly and with a look that just says it all.

You guys spent the rest of the evening snuggled up together and watching Netflix eating the cookies he made, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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Hey guyss! anyone who has already requested something it's already in the works and I'll be posting them very soon so ty for all the ideas so far🫶

Yess ofc, thank u for the request!!

Alot of people wanted this so here it is!🫶

Sharky headcanons

1) He'd be so clingy, no matter if it was just holding ur hand or hugging your waist he'd want to be near you all the time and his love language is definitely physical touch.

2)He'd ask for your opinion on stuff before doing it since he's always unsure about things. (This goes for litterally ANYTHING trust me)

3)he remembers every single detail about you from your favourite colour to your personal preferences and what you wanna do in the future etc.

4) sharky would be such a good listener and his full focus would always be on you no matter what. He loves listening to whatever you had to say, and he always had that smile on his face whenever you were passionate about something whilst talking.

summary: based on this request! sharky x fem!youtuber!reader

notes: sorry this took a little longer than expected, still hope you enjoy it a bunch pookie!! happy new year to you all! requests very open!!

Literally so understanding about your fear of revealing your relationship, he completely gets it, especially because he's got the same struggle with making sure to please a whole fan base.

Only problem is that this guys is SUPER affectionate- like he would definitely be holding your hand all the time if your relationship was public.

The second you both are away from the public eye, he'd all over you. The second you enter the house, he's grabbing onto your arm so you guys can cuddle together while watching something on the TV.

Let be so fr, his fans are pretty crazy, so it's very possible that they would blow up over him not being available. Therefore, also, whoever he was dating would get quite a bit of backlash.

Honestly it worried him that you were so worried about how the fans would react though. Like he knew it was bad that you felt so anxious about it all the time, he just wanted you to feel better :(

So when he started dropping little hints to his audiences, it was for your own benefit. It wasn't like he was even hinting at the fact that you guys were dating, either.

He was pretty much just giving them a reason to start shipping you two, which really worked in your guys' favor when you finally decided to reveal everything.

Smiling at you and staring at you a little bit too long during video shoots.

Talking about you on stream a bunch

liking and commenting on all your instagram posts

That sort of thing, OH wait and one more important one: making vague tiktoks that were definitely about you so that his followers could clock what he was talking about. "When you catch yourself smiling about her," "dance if you've completely fallen in love with someone," etc. etc.

And the tiktoks slowly started morphing into full on videos with you two dancing and whatnot, so fans definitely started to notice your guys' connection more and more.

Looking at all the positive feedback you were getting on both of your accounts when you were together, you finally decided it was time for you two to reveal everything to the public.

It was just a simple stream, something where the viewers can send in videos on his twitch, where you both had planned on saying something about the relationship towards the end of it

So many of the videos from the viewers were edits of you two, though. Like more than 50% it was crazy.

So you both just kind of gave each other a look of silent agreement before he slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulders, going "So funny story, guys.."

HE'D BE SO CHEESY ABOUT IT AHH

As soon as everyone realizes what he's doing, they go CRAY CRAY- the amount of edits of just that clip is insane!!

All your worries go away as you read chat- everyone is just so happy for you two and super duper glad that you found each other.

It's a little bit after that when more of your own fans find everything out too, and they have the same reaction about it all, they're glad you have someone like him so close to you <3

Please request beta squad fics guys !! (Preferably with some detail to it too please)

Details ; Sharky × gn! reader, Sharky is him. he's the best gentleman EVER.

Warnings ; I sincerely apologize, i got lazy at the end and today's fic is really quite short. I honestly don't like this, and I wish it couldve been longer, im really sorry

The little things Sharky, the gentleman, for you.