Colby Brock X Reader Sam Golbach X Reader

chapter 19 colby

The living room was dimly lit, the glow of the TV casting shadows on the walls. Pizza boxes lay scattered on the coffee table, half-eaten slices still warm. Colby leaned back on the couch, his arm draped casually around y/n’s shoulders. Sam and Kat were sprawled on the floor, laughing at some ridiculous meme Sam had pulled up on his phone. The air smelled like pepperoni and garlic, and the sound of their laughter filled the room.
It was Pizza Night. A tradition. Every Friday, no matter how busy life got, they made time for this. For each other. For the chaos and comfort of being together. Colby glanced at y/n, a small smile tugging at his lips. She was laughing too, her head tilted back, her eyes crinkling at the corners. He loved that laugh. Loved how it made him feel like everything was right in the world, even when it wasn’t.
“Okay, but seriously,” Sam said, holding up his phone. “Who doesn’t think this is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen?”
Kat rolled her eyes. “You have the worst sense of humor, Sam. It’s not even that funny.”
“Excuse me? This is peak comedy. Right, Colby?”
Colby shrugged, his grin widening. “I mean, it’s not not funny.”
Y/n nudged him with her elbow. “Don’t encourage him.”
The banter continued, easy and familiar. But as the night wore on, the energy shifted. Sam and Kat started yawning, stretching, and eventually announced they were heading to bed. “Don’t stay up too late,” Kat teased, shooting y/n a knowing look. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the blush creeping up her cheeks.
And then it was just the two of them. Colby and y/n. The TV was still on, some random show playing in the background, but neither of them was paying attention. Colby turned to her, his hand brushing against hers. “You good?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “I’m good.”
There was a pause. A beat of silence that felt heavier than it should have. Colby’s eyes searched hers, and for a moment, it was like the rest of the world faded away. It was just them. Just this. Just the quiet understanding that had always been there, even before they put a name to it.
He leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. She met him halfway, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was soft at first, then deeper, more urgent. His hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone, and she melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair.
When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless. Colby rested his forehead against hers, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you, you know that?”
“I know,” she said, her heart pounding in her chest. “I love you too.”
The rest of the night was a blur. The TV was turned off. The pizza boxes were forgotten. They moved to his room, their hands never leaving each other. It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was about the trust, the vulnerability, the way they fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. It was about the quiet moments in between, the way he held her afterward, his arms wrapped around her like he never wanted to let go.
And as they lay there, tangled in the sheets, y/n couldn’t help but think about how lucky she was. How lucky they were. To have this. To have each other. To have nights like this, where the world felt small and safe and theirs.
Colby pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice sleepy but sincere. “You’re my favorite part of Pizza Night.”
She laughed softly, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “You’re my favorite part of everything.”
And just like that, the night felt perfect. Not because of the pizza or the jokes or the laughter. But because of them. Because of this. Because of the way they loved each other, quietly and completely, in a way that felt like home.