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cloverrwritess · 13 hours ago

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I am so obsessed with this, it's so adorbs ☺️🫶🏻

Dear Diary - Damien x Shayne's sister! Reader (Part 2)

Description: Continues on from part 1, but focuses more on the relationship between y/n and Damien.

Warnings: Extreme fluff, confessions that are way overdue and sharks if that's not your thing. Damien is also a general warning.

Notes: I really didn't intend to make this fic a series, but I ended up going back to it and couldn't stop writing, lol. I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep. So I'm posting it now. There will be a part three, so enjoy :)

___________

The butterflies in her stomach brought her right back to that fifteen year old girl struggling with the crush she had on her brother's best friend. It felt so cliche. And truly, she'd pushed those feelings away for so long and now they were back, only it felt more real.

It was Saturday, and y/n agreed to meet Damien at a local cafe so that they could talk. She had stayed up late last night rehearsing what she would say. But everything she came up with flew out of her head the moment she saw him.

The little bell above the door chimed, announcing her presence. Damien noticed her and the smile that appeared on his face almost weakened her knees.

As she approached the table he'd chosen, he stood up to greet her.

"Hey, thank you for meeting me here."

She swallowed thickly, feeling her mouth dry up. "Uh... yeah. Of course."

He motioned for her to sit down and the two of them did. It was quiet for a moment, like neither of them knew what to say.

But y/n had always been able to count on him to do the hard thing first.

"So, uh... first of all, I just want to make sure you're okay."

That she wasn't expecting.

She tilted her head a little. "Why wouldn't I be?".

"Well, I know you were embarrassed by what happened and I couldn't live with myself if you thought I was trying to take advantage of that."

"Oh... no, Damien. To be honest, that didn't even cross my mind. I'm okay. I just... don't really know what to say."

He looked at her, then sighed. "Okay, can I ask you something?".

She nodded.

"Do you... have feelings for me?". His voice held no trace of judgement or annoyance, but soft and cautious in case he was wrong. He was just asking.

She couldn't believe after all this time, this was how she would tell him.

Slowly, she nodded.

"Yes, but not this whole time. I don't want you to think I've been secretly pining over you."

He chuckled softly. "I don't think that." He reached across the table to squeeze her hand.

"You don't have to explain anything if you don't want to."

"No, I... I probably should."

He didn't say anything. Just patiently waited for her. He'd been doing it for a long time, he could wait a few more minutes.

She sighed. "I've been feeling things for you the last few years. But I didn't want it to get in the way of our friendship, so I never said anything. I didn't even tell Shayne. When we first met, it was genuinely just a stupid childish crush and that's all it was. And I never thought about you like that until now, at least that's what I was telling myself. I'm now realising I probably have always felt this way."

When she was finished speaking, he didn't say anything for a few minutes. Then he sighed.

"How do you think I felt? You're my friend's sister. That's literally the rule number one in male friendships. And I knew how much you valued our friendship, so I couldn't ruin that."

"Wait, so... you felt like this too?".

He smiled slightly. "I've spent most of my adult life trying not to fall in love with you, y/n. How could anyone who spends as much time as I do with you not?".

She giggled. "Okay, so basically we've both just been idiots this whole time."

He pursed his lips, then nodded. "I think so."

She looked at him. "So, what happens now?".

"Well, I think the only thing left is to go on a date."

"Damien, what if this doesn't work out?".

His expression softened as he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "Y/n, there are thousands of reasons why this isn't a good idea. But... we only need one to go for it. And I don't know about you, but I'm tired of pretending I don't love you."

Her friendship with him had always been something comforting. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what it would be like without it there. But if they had such a strong friendship, why couldn't they have an equally, or stronger, relationship?

He could tell her mind was racing.

"Y/n." His voice gently interrupted. "Do you want to be with me?".

She nodded. "Yes."

He smiled at her. "Then what other reason do we need?".

It was like a switch went off after that. There wasn't any more awkward silences. It was back to normal, but there was something else there too. It was subtle. Nothing noticeable, not to anyone except them.

Something that had been waiting this whole time and finally was able to sit there with them.

It was almost 7pm, the time Damien said he'd be picking her up for their first date. For about an hour, y/n had been pacing up and down in her living room nervously. She knew she shouldn't be, but her mind had been racing all day, which led her to thinking maybe Damien underestimated how he felt about her and part of her wondered if he just didn't want to hurt her feelings.

What if he realised how inexperienced she was with serious relationships and decided that wasn't what he wanted?

Was she actually in love with him, or was she just telling herself that? She didn't know, she'd never been in love before. She wasn't sure how it was supposed to feel, and she didn't have anyone to talk to about it.

Shayne didn't know yet, nor did anyone else at Smosh.

By the time there was a knock at her door, her brain was fried. But as soon as she saw him, all of those worries began to melt away.

He seemed to have that effect on her.

He smiled at her, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Good evening, ma'am. Your chariot awaits you downstairs." A smooth posh English accent slipped out as he spoke, making her a little flustered.

She giggled. "Where, Damien? There's never any parking."

He hums. "Yeah, you're right. I parked really far."

"Really?".

"No. I parked on the sidewalk, and I'm very concerned I'll get a ticket."

She chuckled shaking her head as she took in what he was wearing.

Black jeans with a white dress shirt and a faded black denim jacket. He wore his silver framed glasses, and the light stubble he had going on suited him very well.

He somehow looked more attractive than normal.

She let out a quiet breath.

"You look great, by the way." He complimented the dress she was wearing.

"Thank you. So do you."

"Oh." He paused like he forgot something, then pulled out a bouquet of her favourite flowers from behind his back. "These are for you."

This took her by surprise and apparently that was evident on her face.

"What's wrong?".

"Nothing. I just... nobody's given me flowers before."

"Oh, so like just on your birthday, or something?".

She slowly shook her head. "No, I mean... I've had flowers from my family. But never from someone I was dating."

His jaw almost dropped to the ground. "Are you serious?".

She nodded.

"Okay, well... that's alarming."

She took them from him with a quiet but genuine thank you and put them in water.

"So, are you ready to go?".

"Yeah."

She grabbed her bag from the couch and the two of them left her apartment.

Damien wasn't kidding when he said he'd parked on the sidewalk. There really was nowhere else, but he didn't have a ticket waiting for him on his windshield.

He opened the door for her, letting her into the passenger side before closing it and making his way around to the driver's side.

For a moment they just sat there. But it wasn't awkward.

"So, where are we going?".

"Well, I thought I'd let you decide."

"Really? Damien, you know I'm not good at deciding things."

He chuckled. "I know, and I have planned accordingly. I'm gonna give you two choices, you can pick one and then we'll go somewhere else after that."

She thought that was actually a sweet way to go about it.

"Okay, what are the choices?".

"Well, there's that Italian place I know you love, or your favourite diner down the street."

He watched her face light up at the mention of the latter, but seeing as it was one of her favourite places on earth, it was expected. Still, he couldn't help the way his heart melted.

"Can we go to the diner?".

He smiled, nodding. "Diner it is."

He knew going somewhere she was already comfortable with would help to ease her nerves. Of course, he could tell. He could see she was nervous from a mile away.

As soon as they were seated at one of the comfy red leather booths, y/n was able to relax. Damien never really understood why she loved it here so much, but he would suffer through the harsh clashing of colours, the classic black and white tiled floor and the only okay food for her.

It was worth it to see her so happy.

After chatting about everything and nothing for a while, she decided to be a brave and ask him something.

"Damien."

"Mhm?".

"When you said you're in love with me, did you mean it?".

At first, he tilted his head. Then his expression softened, sensing the vulnerability of the question. He sat back a little.

"Can I ask you something first before I answer that?".

She nodded.

"What makes you think I might not have meant it?".

"I don't know. I guess... it's a little hard to believe. But it's not that I don't believe you. I'm just... not sure I know what it's supposed to feel like."

He looked at her for a moment, patiently waiting for her to explain further. When she didn't, he realised she was having a hard time trying to explain it. So, he met her in the middle, putting her at ease.

"What is it you're not sure about, y/n?".

She sighed quietly. "I've never been in love before. I don't know what it's supposed to feel like, Damien."

It was then he understood what she was saying. But his expression didn't change. No judgement, just a gentle curiosity. If it was possible, he only seemed to soften more.

"Really? Never?".

She shrugged as her cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink.

"At least, I don't think I have. But then again, I wouldn't know if I was."

He smiled slightly. "I think if you say you don't think so, then you probably haven't. Which is completely fine. But I'm just wondering what that has to do with me being in love with you."

"Well, how am I supposed to know if I don't have anything to compare it to?".

"Y/n." He chuckled softly. "All you need to know is that I love you."

"But how do you just... know?".

"Do you want me to say that again?".

She tilted her head. "What?".

"I love you." He repeated slowly, looking into her eyes.

"Oh." She could've sworn her heart skipped a beat in that moment.

He smiled. "Do you think I'd say that to you if I didn't mean it?".

After dinner, Damien paid the bill and they left the diner. As they walked to his car, he took her hand, which made her jump and look at him. He chuckled.

"Don't tell me nobody's held your hand before."

She giggled, shaking her head. "No. No. I'm sorry, I just thought you were further behind me."

Another laugh tumbled from his lips as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go to grab the handle of his car door, opening it for her.

Back in the car, y/n remembered earlier he had said something about doing something after dinner.

"What are we doing now?".

"Oh, I can't tell you. It's a surprise."

She pursed her lips. "You don't even like surprises, Damien."

"Well, it's a good thing it's for you and not me."

She sighed. "Dude, just tell me."

He giggled. "So impatient. You'll see soon enough."

He wasn't wrong. A few minutes later, y/n found herself standing outside the local sealife centre, another one of her favourite places. Damien revealed that he had bought the two of them passes to wander around themselves. He had a feeling he'd have a guide in y/n anyway considering how often she came here.

Without thinking, she grabbed his hand and dragged him inside excitedly.

And once again, he found himself thinking it was worth it seeing her so happy.

Quietly, Damien followed behind her as she led the way, pointing out fish to him. He didn't say a word, letting her yap about the sealife surrounding them.

He was happy to hang back a little, admiring her while she was busy being fascinated.

They walked through an underwater tunnel with sharks swimming above and around them and ot opened up into a massive tank that filled up an entire room.

The sharks were her favourite, he noted. She didn't have to say anything, he could just tell. And he already knew she loved sharks, but seeing her watch them swim in awe was something else.

"Which one is your favourite?" He asked.

She hums. "In this tank? The hammerhead. But my overall favourite is the whale shark, and that's in a different tank."

"Huh... Why's that?".

"Because they need much bigger tanks and different water temperatures."

"Ah, I see."

After a few minutes, he moved to stand close behind her. Then he put his arms around her waist, making her pause. His touch was feather-light and tender, like he didn't want to interrupt, but couldn't help himself.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, which appeared to be simple but actually meant a lot more.

"In case you're still wondering, it feels like this." He muttered to her.

It took her brain a second to register what he said, but when she did she leaned into him, letting a small smile appear on her face. Her eyes remained on the sharks, but all she could think about and feel was him.

It was almost overwhelming, but it filled her with a sense of comfort and safety first. She could feel the faint beat of his heart, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the heat of his body and the scent of him taking over all of her senses at once. That familiar smell of vanilla and the cologne he was wearing.

She hadn't even realised her eyes closed briefly.

Turning around in his arms, she buried her face into his chest. He smiled, running his hand down her arm soothingly.

"What do you want me to say?".

"You don't have to say anything, sweetheart. Just tell me about the sharks."

Suddenly she knew exactly what it felt like to be in love and it didn't matter what she did or didn't have before. She loved him.

They took their time wandering around the rest of the centre in comfortable silence with some whispering to each other every so often. But eventually, they had to leave before the sealife centre closed.

He bought her a shark plushie from the gift shop while she went to the bathroom, which she was extremely happy with.

By the time Damien dropped her back home, it was 11pm.

Just like the start of the date, they sat in his car for a bit.

She was wondering what to say. Surely she couldn't just say it was fun. It meant a lot more than that.

He tilted his head. "What are you thinking?".

She sighed. "I'm thinking about what to say."

He smiled slightly, shaking his head before taking off his seatbelt. "Come on. I'll walk you up."

"Wait, what? You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do. Let's go."

"Okay." She mumbled, confused.

Getting out of the car, he came around to her side. Then he took her hand, walking with her as they headed into her apartment building.

He shook his head a little. "What kind of guys did you date for them to not walk you back?".

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"I'm not gonna lie to you, y/n. This is pretty basic stuff. I wouldn't be able to leave if I didn't walk you up."

She smiled as they stopped outside her door. "Well, this was fun. We should do it again some time." Her tone suggested she was teasing.

He chuckled. "I should hope so."

He pulled her closer to him and kissed her on the cheek, bringing a light blush to her face.

"I feel like we're on the same page about that."

She smiled slightly. "Fair enough."

He sighed, glancing at the floor. "You should probably go in."

She felt like there was something else that needed to be said, but as she looked at him, all she thought of was goodnight.

"Goodnight, Damien."

He smiled softly. "Sweet dreams, darling."

She unlocked her door and opened it, giving him the cue to walk away. But before he could get too far, she paused and called him back.

"Damien! Wait."

He stopped and turned back around, furrowing his eyebrows as she caught up to him.

"What's wrong?".

"I... I love you." She stuttered.

Once her brain had caught up and she realised that was the only thing she said, her cheeks flushed.

"Sorry, that wasn't supposed to come out like that."

He gently took her by the arm and chuckled, "That was adorable."

She frowned. "Hey, you didn't say it back."

He smiled softly, bringing her closer to him. "My most sincere apologies. I was a little distracted. I love you too, y/n."

She tried not to stare at him too long, but he caught on and tilted his head, amused. "But it looks like I'm not the only one who's distracted."

She couldn't help it. Saying I love you on a first date seemed crazy, but it felt right. It was different for them.

He moved closer to her, then gently brought his hand up to her cheek, tilting her chin up with the back of his knuckle to make her look at him.

He sighed. "Please tell me if I'm wrong, y/n. But... do you want me to kiss you?".

She nodded slowly. "Is that okay?".

"I think so." He replied softly, pulling her closer so that their chests were pressed against each other, which flustered her more. The sudden close proximity almost made her inhale sharply.

"Relax, sweetheart."

"Damien, you have to stop doing that."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What?".

She vaguely gestured to all of him.

"You're quite literally the hottest guy I know, alright? You have to chill out and give me a second before you do that thing with your voice."

He laughed. "Wow, okay. I don't think I'm the one that needs to chill out."

She sighed, grasping his forearm as he patiently gave her a minute. He smiled softly. "Y/n, why don't you close your eyes?".

"Why?" She asked curiously.

"Just trust me. It'll make it easier for you."

She looked at him, then whispered, "Okay."

She closed her eyes, and he waited about a second before leaning in. To put her at ease, he didn't immediately kiss her.

He kissed her cheek, just at the corner of her lips. "Okay?" He asked.

She nodded, and soon felt his lips gently press against hers. It was soft and sweet, but he didn't put any pressure on it until she kissed him back.

When she did, her arms wrapped around his shoulders before melting into him. It sounded cliche, but the way they just fit together made it feel like they really were made for each other.

She sighed quietly.

The more relaxed she became, the more he deepened the kiss. What had started as something sweet and innocent had turned passionate and heated. But it didn't last for long.

He pulled away first and rested his forehead against hers. Both of them seemed to have lost their breath a little.

"Damien, why haven't we been doing this the whole time?".

He smiled slightly. "I guess because it makes this all the more sweeter."

He pecked her lips once more and pulled away. "I fear if I don't leave now, I'll stay forever."

She sighed heavily. "There you go again with the voice thing."

He chuckled. "I don't do a voice."

"You absolutely do. And it works, so just go."

"Okay." He laughed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "Goodnight."

She smiled, pulling away from him while she still could. "Goodnight, Damien."

When she finally entered her apartment, she leaned back against the front door with a cliche blissful sigh. But it felt valid in the moment.

Her lips still tingled from his kiss and even that was enough to make her blush.

She decided then that she couldn't keep it to herself any longer and called Courtney.

They picked up as they always did when she called, despite the time.

"Hi, baby. What's up?".

"Hey, Court. Uh... is Shayne near you."

"Yes, why?".

"Well, get away from him."

They chuckled at her bluntness, but did as told, making their husband give them a confused look.

"Alright, spill. What's up?".

She couldn't help the involuntary squeal that came out of her.

"I just went on a date with Damien."

"No way! Are you kidding?".

"No." Happy tears filled her eyes as she proceeded to spill everything to her sister-in-law, who was a solid emotional support.

When she was finished explaining, Courtney still couldn't believe their ears. But they were extremely happy for her.

She sighed. "I love him so much, Courtney."

"Aw, y/n. I'm so happy for you. Are you guys official?".

"Yeah, I think so." She smiled. "But you can't tell Shayne yet. I wanna tell him myself."

"You got it, lovely. So... can I ask, how much of a simp is Damien?".

She giggled. "Courtney!".

"I'm sorry! I got curious. You don't have to say, but he has to be so soft for you."

She blushed a little. "Yeah, maybe. But he's hot so it's okay."

Courtney burst out laughing. "Okay, queen. I love that for you."

Y/n sighed. "Sorry for calling you so late."

"Don't you dare apologise for that. I get it. I'm always here to listen to you vent about how sweet Damien is to you."

She chuckled. "Good to know. I feel like I'll need to for a good few weeks."

Courtney giggled. "You're too cute, y/n. Honestly, you two have always been perfect for each other, I'm glad you finally realised that."

She nodded. "Me too."

The two of them talked for a while longer until it got to 1am and y/n was finally able to settle down and go to bed.

Before she went to sleep, she noticed a few texts from Damien.

You left your shark plushie in my car. I'll keep him safe for you

Did you fall asleep already?

I love you. Goodnight, darling

It was safe to say she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

____

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cloverrwritess · 1 day ago

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My brain finally functioned told me to make little fics for Smosh Summer Games 2025 so get ready for some damien fics coming soon

Also WHY ISNT MY DAMIEN FIC SHOWING UP IN THE HASHTAGS 🥲 it's a short fic but if yall wanna read it, just click class of '05!

#smosh fic #smosh summer games #fanfiction #youtuber x reader #smosh x reader #ideas ideas

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cloverrwritess · 1 day ago

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CLASS OF ‘05!

Damien Haas x Fem! Reader

authors note: heyy how yall doing..I’ve been M.I.A due to mental health reasons and also writing block but my brain finally told me to suck it up and write something again. this fic is short 😞

warnings: established relationship, the cast and fans shipping damien and reader, dirty jokes

———

Smosh Summer Games 2025 has finally started, the theme we went for was school back in 2005. I’ve been working at Smosh for 4 years, this being my first ever SSG was surreal.

The crew helped me with my outfit for our photobook shoot—I was dressed in a brown button up, along with a long skirt with a colorful pattern and paired with a maroon kitten heels. After multiple meetings, the team decided for me to be an Art Teacher.

“Look at you cutie” Amanda praised, smiling at my costume. “Do I fit the part?” I twirled and posed laughing at her reaction. “You definitely fit the part, I love the accessories they gave you!”

I touched the layered necklace I was wearing and hair pins on my hair, “I kinda want to keep them but I know Ian would beat my ass if I did”

“Just give him the puppy dog eyes and he’ll forgive you”

“Ready for our turn for the photobook shoot, Mrs.Lehan–Canto?” I teased her, reaching my hand dragging her to the room where the cameras were set up.

We didn’t get past the doorway when I felt a hand on my back, turning around, I saw Damien in his outfit.

“Guess you’re the new art teacher they hired?” He spoke in a deep, strict voice, quirking an eyebrow while making eye contact with me.

I gasped lightly at his costume. He looks adorable yet so attractive in button ups “Would it be wrong to fuck your superintendent?” I asked with no hesitation—realizing my mistake, I covered my mouth from embarrassment.

That got everyone in the room laughing at my comment, Amanda cradling her pregnant stomach trying to stop herself from laughing to hard.

“It’s 10 am in the morning [Name]” Yelled by Spencer.

“Well good morning to you babe” Damien broke character and laughed, not shocked at my unhinged comments.

“I am so sorry about that, holy shit I want to crawl in a ditch right now”

Damien gave me a kiss on top of my head and smiled at me “We just can’t say anything to anyone and I think we’re good” “I just got my photos taken so you’re up next after Shayne”

“Should I do awkward poses or something that’s giving ‘I’m the only art teacher in this school please help’?” I tilted my head, still thinking of poses for the pictures.

“Hey don’t overthink ” He gave my hand a tight squeeze. “You’ll do great”

———

Max, our photographer, told me to bite on a paint brush that was placed horizontally in my mouth and smile. There were a few more poses I did before she told me everything looked great and called Amanda to take my seat. I stood up and stretched “Man I haven’t done professional photos in a while”

Next thing I know, I was dragged away by Courtney yelling about taking pictures for their digital camera.

“Okay art teacher, what are we painting today?” Olivia yelled, “Are we painting dicks and nutsacks?” Chanse also yelled trying to get a reaction out of me. “Fuck you guys!”

We all had fun doing funny poses for Courtney’s camera, I have to ask her later to send some to me to post.

Damien walked towards my direction, grabbed my arm, and kissed the back of my hand “Want to bet on what team will win this year?”

“Please we all know Downtown Dairy Cows will win” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “You don’t believe in Hollywood Hotdogs?”

“We’ll see”

———

itsname ✔️

itsname Class of 2005! Are you guys ready? 👀📚

Comments

co_mill rumor has it you guys were seen all alone in the library 🫢

→ shaynetopp it’s true, it was me who saw it

phatchanse [name] & damien, sitting on a tree K-I-S-S-I-NG

angelagiovanagiarratana i saw these two kissing in the office

→ ianhecox poor janitor 💔

spennser so we all ship #dam[name]?

erindougal looking good!

smoshfan1802 my fav couple!!

→ itsname 🩷

user8293 someone write a fanfic like this please 😭😭😭

anthonypadilla yall were fucking in the bathroom

→ user2010 HELLO!?!?!

→ user1046 this is crazy HAHA

→ itsname no…

→ damienhaas definitely not us

#smosh x reader #damien haas x reader #smosh fanfiction #youtuber x reader #fanfic

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cloverrwritess · 3 days ago

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TRY NOT TO FLIRT

SUMMARY: Try not to laugh, and stop flirting!

NOTE: Lately, I haven't had any shows to watch, so I started watching Smosh again, and oh my god, Damien, Amen. I don't know what it is about him, but I love him.xoxo

The energy in the Smosh studio was already a disaster—and they hadn’t even started filming.

Courtney was pacing in circles, practicing an unhinged British granny voice. Angela was digging through the costume bins like she was on a time limit in a thrift store game show. Amanda had claimed the hotdog costume and was now arguing with Shayne over whether the mustard stain added “texture.”

And Damien? Damien was casually perched in the TNTL chair, legs spread, black T-shirt tight across his chest, smirking like a man who knew exactly what he was doing. Which, of course, he did.

You were trying very hard not to look at him. Which meant you were definitely looking at him.

You leaned against the TNTL prop table, pretending to scroll on your phone, but your eyes kept drifting to the way his fingers tapped the side of the chair, how he kept glancing at you like he was daring you to say something.

He knew what today was. He’d started it.

“We should do double-entendre jokes this round,” Damien had said earlier, with that faux-innocent little shrug. “Spice things up.”

You’d made eye contact across the prep room and replied dryly, “Only if you’re ready to lose.”

Now he was in the hot seat—mouth full of water, cheeks puffed, eyes watching you as Shayne kicked things off.

“Alright,” Shayne grinned, spinning toward the camera, “today’s TNTL is all about innuendo. Damien suggested it, so naturally he’s our first target.”

Laughter rang out from around the room. Amanda made a dramatic choking noise. Angela muttered something about “digging his own grave.”

You stepped forward slowly, arms crossed but grin playful. The rest of the cast quieted—there was a known thing, a rhythm between you and Damien when you were on camera together. You matched energy too well. Knew each other's timing. You didn't plan jokes—you just vibed, and the audience loved it.

So did the cast. Even if they were now sick of how long it had gone unresolved.

You stopped just in front of him, letting the moment stretch. His eyes narrowed in amusement, but you saw it—the flicker of anticipation.

You didn’t use props. No wigs. No slapstick.

Just your voice.

You leaned in, tone low and teasing.

“You know, Damien… I really admire your stamina. Most guys can’t stay in this chair for longer than a minute.”

There was a ripple of laughter from the couches. Chanse audibly wheezed.

“I mean,” you continued, stepping closer, “holding all that in your mouth and still keeping eye contact? That’s impressive.”

You reached out and dragged two fingers slowly up the side of his knee.

The room lost it.

Damien’s cheeks ballooned as he tried not to choke. Amanda screamed. Courtney slapped the couch and yelled, “THAT’S NOT A BIT, THAT’S FOREPLAY!”

He held on—barely. You cocked your head and purred:

“I didn’t say stop me if I’m being inappropriate…”

SPIT.

He doubled forward, spraying the water in a glorious arc across the studio floor, coughing between helpless laughter.

You turned on your heel triumphantly, sauntering back toward the couch as the rest of the cast erupted.

“Oh my GOD,” Angela shouted. “Will you two PLEASE just fuck already?”

Amanda nodded solemnly. “They are legally married in the state of ‘Denial.’”

“She cheated!” Damien choked out, wiping his chin with a towel. “That wasn’t even a joke. That was emotional warfare!”

You threw him a wink. “Maybe don’t challenge someone who’s better at flirting than you.”

His expression flickered—he smiled, but his ears turned slightly red. That only made you grin wider.

Courtney took the seat reluctantly, already muttering, “I swear to God if they team up, I’m not surviving this.”

And team up you did.

You and Damien flanked her like evil improv angels, each standing on one side. He started it off smoothly:

“I walked in on Y/N the other day… Practicing with a plunger.”

Courtney’s eyes widened over puffed cheeks. You nodded solemnly.

“I like to warm up with the big tools first. Gotta keep everything… loose.”

A cough. A snort. Courtney shifted in her seat.

Damien leaned closer.

“She calls it ‘cardio with benefits.’”

Courtney exploded, water bursting from her mouth like a fire hydrant. You and Damien high-fived. Amanda fell backward onto the couch dramatically, groaning, “DOES EVERYTHING YOU SAY HAVE A SEXUAL UNDERTONE?!”

“Yes,” you and Damien said in sync.

“Let’s do one more together,” you said to Damien, grabbing two clip-on mustaches. He grinned, already playing along.

You both stood like deadpan newscasters.

“Good evening,” you began. “Tonight’s top story: Damien’s pipe has burst again.”

“That’s right, Y/N,” Damien replied. “Sources say it burst wide open after she handled it for too long.”

Shayne’s cheeks inflated comically.

“Cleanup was messy, wet, and deeply satisfying,” you added.

Shayne EXPLODED.

The studio went full chaos. You and Damien collapsed against each other in laughter.

You should’ve known this would come back to bite you.

One minute you were on fire, racking up spit takes like a flirt-powered demolition derby—and the next, someone (probably Shayne) shoved you into the TNTL throne with a wicked grin and a shout of:

“LET’S SEE IF THE TEASE CAN TAKE IT.”

Your smugness evaporated fast.

Mouth full of water. Cold plastic chair beneath you. The set lights suddenly blinding. Damien approaching like a Bond villain about to monologue you into submission.

You tried to focus. Don’t break. Don’t laugh. Don’t—

Damien walked out from the shadows holding… a banana.

Oh no.

He didn’t even speak at first. Just stood in front of you, dead silent, slowly peeling the banana with exaggerated care, like it was a bomb. The studio lost it before he even got a word out.

Courtney had faceplanted into a pillow. Angela whisper-yelled, “NO. NOPE. NOT THE BANANA.”

Damien took a thoughtful bite.

“Bananas,” he said, around a mouthful, “are a great source of potassium. But did you know... they’re also excellent practice for deep breathing exercises?”

You clenched your jaw. Do not spit. Do not combust. He’s doing it on purpose.

He crouched lower in front of you. Face level. Oh god.

“I’ve seen you eat bananas before,” he added. “You don’t even chew. You just... commit.”

A choked sound burst from the back of your throat.

Damien smirked.

“It’s inspiring, really. I mean, most people don’t gag that far into a potassium stick and come out smiling.”

You shook violently. Your eyes watered. You slapped your knee like Morse code.

Damien kept going, completely unfazed, absolutely loving this.

He stood again, tossing the banana peel over his shoulder like a victory flag.

“And the way your lips—grip—”

You exploded.

WATER. EVERYWHERE.

Your entire face launched forward in a tidal wave. You folded in half, practically falling out of the chair, coughing into your sleeve.

The room ERUPTED.

“OKAY, THAT’S IT,” Courtney shrieked. “WE’RE ENDING THE VIDEO HERE. THIS ISN’T TNTL ANYMORE. THIS IS PORN FOREPLAY.”

250 notes · View notes

cloverrwritess · 6 days ago

Text

Somethin' Stupid like 'I love you'

Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Word count: 6.1k

Summary: Y/N is able to manage her crush on Spencer until they duet a love song on a karaoke livestream.

Inspired by Somethin Stupid by Frank and Nancy Sinatra!! I'm so obsessed with the harmonies, which is what inspired me to write this. If you haven't heard the song pleaseeeeee go listen to it! Also, this is the first thing I've written in a while and my first fic on tumblr, so go easy on me! Thanks, yall!

You rubbed your temples as you sat at your desk, staring at the blinking cursor of a blank Word document. In your three years at Smosh as an editor, turned PA, turned cast member, you had learned a lot: how to make an enticing thumbnail, how to be comfortable on camera, how to be a good assistant, that you much preferred meetings and shooting to slow, lazy afternoons in front of your computer. One thing that you had yet to learn was how to get past the excruciating writer’s block you so often encountered towards the end of a long week. Your mind was as blank as your computer screen. This was not good.

It had been a good day. Nothing out of the ordinary, but good nonetheless. You came into the office early, partially to do some extra editing, and partially because your friend, coworker, and boss, Spencer, who happened to be your ride since your car was in the shop and he lived nearby, needed to get to work early to finish prepping for the day’s ‘Shayne Guesses’. It was mostly the latter. No one was surprised when you put off the editing you’d insisted you needed to do, instead electing to sit on the couch by Spencer’s desk, chatting with him and scrolling on TikTok aimlessly. You felt your face heat up as you scrolled onto an edit of Spencer himself, quickly saving the video and scrolling on. For later, you thought.

People began trickling into the previously empty office, greeting you and Spencer as they passed, pouring themselves coffee and finding their way to their desks. You glanced up from your screen, feeling a gentle hand on your shoulder, and saw Courtney walking past the back of the couch, Shayne next to her. They stuck their tongue out at you as they passed. “Hey, Cutie,” she mused, giving you a small wave, “You’re in early.”

You stuck your tongue out and waved back. “Yeah… I was meant to be editing, but…” You trailed off, holding up your phone, TikTok still lighting up your screen, “You can see how well that’s going.” You heard Spencer scoff without looking away from his computer screen. “Shut up, Spencer!” Courtney and Shayne both giggled as they walked away.

Within 15 minutes, everyone in the office had gathered in the common area for the morning meeting. You lounged over the back of Angela’s chair, smiling as you listened to Spencer give some announcements about the plan for the imminent ‘Shayne Guesses our Baby Photos’ video. The meeting immediately became vastly more boring when Spencer passed the baton to Ian and Anthony for their announcements. It wasn’t that you didn’t care, per se, it’s just that Ian and Anthony didn’t have the same adorable smile or slutty little glasses that Spencer did.

Everyone stood and split off as the meeting came to a close. You stood up straight from your position over Angela’s shoulder and stretched, cracking your sore back and neck. You jumped slightly, feeling a firm hand on your shoulder and quickly spinning on your heel, only to be met with those very glasses and that same smile. He offered you your clipboard with an outstretched arm, and you couldn’t fight the urge to trace his tattoos with your eyes, down the toned line of his bicep. You felt your stomach do a somersault, wishing you could trace the inked lines for real. “Hey, Y/N, you ready?” You took the clipboard and looked away quickly, hoping to hide the hot flush that you could feel creeping up your neck.

You followed him into the Smosh Games stage, where you found Shayne getting mic’d up and some of your fellow crew members setting up the cameras and sound equipment. Spencer donned his headset as he sat down in his chair, pulling out the chair next to him before gesturing for you to sit. You smiled and murmured a thank you, internally glowing at his gesture, no matter how small it may have been.

The video began, and Shayne began his guessing. It always shocked you how good he was at guessing things about his coworkers, although you supposed that these may have been easier to guess, given that they were childhood photographs and all. As the video continued, you and Spencer bantered back and forth in a low whisper, joking about how cute all your friends were as babies. You rubbed your eyes, willing the week’s exhaustion to disappear.

Throughout the whole video, you’d felt a pit of anticipation in your stomach, waiting for your baby photo to show up. Eventually, the time came: Shayne clicked the next button, and there you were. It was objectively a goofy photo. Little you, holding a rainbow snow cone with a stained mouth and sticky fingers, a silly smile on your tiny lips. You felt a jab in your ribs as Spencer giggled. Shayne broke out into a big, toothy grin. “Aww, this one’s a cutie,” He giggled. “I’ll be honest, this expression is giving Y/N. The snow cone, too, actually.” He glanced behind the camera at you, flushing, and Spencer, giggling, before looking back to the camera, his lips pressed into a thin line of a smirk. “Alright,” He said matter-of-factly, “You guys can’t see it, but Spencer just poked Y/N and giggled, so I know it’s her.” He clicked the next button again, and your name popped up on the screen, confirming his suspicions.

Spencer leaned over to you, tapping you on the knee as Shayne moved on with the video. “You were a cute kid,” He paused for a beat. “I guess some things never change.” You could feel your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning, and you knew you were bright pink. You could feel Spencer’s eyes on the side of your face as you tucked your hair behind your ear. He could undoubtedly see your flushed face. It certainly wasn’t dark enough in the studio to hide it anymore.

Shayne found you after the cameras quit rolling and the shoot wrapped, giving you a knowing smirk. “So, you two are cozy, huh?” he accused. He didn’t specify who you were cozy with. He didn’t need to. You felt a blush bloom across your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you insisted in a strained, high pitched, flustered tone of voice, trying your best to think of a excuse to run, but having no luck.

Shayne put up his hands, as if surrendering, but his smirk didn’t waver. “Sure,” he drew out the word accusitorily, teasing you subtly, “Whatever you say, Y/N.” You turned on your heel and scurried away, hearing Shayne call after you. “He’d say yes, you know!” Shayne must’ve been confused, you told yourself. Would Spencer really say yes? You wished.

Unfortunately, that was your only shoot of the morning, and you’d have to spend the rest of the day in meetings, or worse, alone at your desk. Ugh. What a drag. You had a meeting to brainstorm for Smosh Games and a meeting with the art department to help plan the next episode of Bit City. You were much more excited for one of these meetings, and despite your love of Bit City, it was not the art department meeting. The art department didn’t have Spencer.

The Games meeting, however, did have Spencer. That wasn’t the only reason you liked it, of course. You loved talking about games, brainstorming stupid bits, and thinking of new and innovative video ideas. Even more so, though, you loved watching Spencer talking about games, brainstorming stupid bits, and thinking of new video ideas.

After the meetings and lunch, here you were, at your desk, staring blankly at your screen. You spun mindlessly in your chair a few times, surveying the office. Everyone who wasn’t in a shoot looked like they were being much more productive than you were. You sighed, trying your best to work, so as not to be the weak link of the office. It was no use. Despite having a relatively slow day, the week was taking its toll on you. You slumped, resting your chin in your hand as you continued to watch the cursor blink, as if taunting you for your inability to do your fucking job.

Suddenly, you heard a dull ‘thunk!’ next to you on your desk, and looked up to see Spencer there, having placed a mug on your desk. He looked at you with a soft, gentle smile playing on his lips. You cocked your head, confused, looking between Spencer and the cup in his hand a few times. Spencer rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, smiling bigger now. “I uh…” He paused, considering his words. “You’ve seemed kinda tired today. I just thought this might help. Y’know, make sure you can get through the rest of your boring day of writing and emails and stuff.”

A toothy grin broke out across your face. “Aw, Spencer, you didn’t have to do that! Thank you, dude, I needed this. This is so sweet of you.” You took the cup from his hand, feeling sparks where your fingers brushed. You took a sip, the comforting warmth of the beverage quickly spreading through your body, already making you feel better. “Oh my God! Spencer, this is perfect! How did you know how I take my coffee?” You demanded jokingly, beaming up at the man and continuing to sip your drink.

He shrugged nonchalantly, giving your shoulder a light squeeze. “I know you, Y/N,” he said softly, almost a whisper. He turned and walked away, presumably to his own desk, but stopped in his tracks a few paces away from you. He turned, exclaiming, “See ya later, Y/N. Your carriage awaits!” He did a silly fake bow before continuing his path away from you.

You giggled, taking another sip of your coffee.

He knew you?

The rest of the day was significantly better. You were actually able to get some work done, for one thing. Then, you got to have a fun car ride with Spencer, and best of all, you got to go home, eat instant ramen, and watch a movie in your PJs with your cat, Roxie.

—

You must have fallen asleep on the couch while watching your movie, because the next thing you knew, your alarm was blaring, interrupting the relaxing peace you had managed to find in the heap of blankets on your couch. You heaved yourself up, stretched, and checked your phone. You had a few notifications: Some texts from the Smosh Girls group chat, some texts from Angela individually, and a Slack message from Bailey, demanding you send in your screenshots for the day’s episode of ‘Phone it in’. Shit. You scrambled to go into your Google searches, texts, and photos. You should’ve waited till you were more together, should’ve known that your freshly awake self would pick rather incriminating screenshots. But you didn’t.

Your morning passed in a haze, and somehow, after being revived by a few cups of coffee, you found yourself in the block of chairs where cast and crew sat during Phone it in, Courtney on your left and Angela on your right. Sitting in front of the camera, preparing to compete in the video, were Spencer, Amanda, and Trevor. You couldn’t fully recall what pre-coffee you had submitted, which, frankly, scared you.

The video kicked off with Tommy explaining the premise and introducing the contestants. “Alright!” Tommy said with a broad gesture, “Let the guessing begin!” You watched as the three tried to guess your coworkers based on their phones, laughing, joking, and trying (and failing) to guess along. “Time for our next phone. Let’s see those Google searches!” Tommy pointed to the screen, chuckling. You blinked, reading the screen. You thought for a second, and then it clicked. This was you. “‘Best antique stores near me’, ‘Car warning lights’, And ‘can i buy Arizona in bulk’...” Tommy trailed off, turning to look at the camera, then the contestants. “Any thoughts on who this might be?” Spencer was already scribbling on his whiteboard, while Amanda and Trevor looked confused.

“Wait, wait, this person wants to buy the state of Arizona? I’m so confused,” Amanda shook her head at her own confusion. Spencer choked on a laugh. Tommy and Trevor cackled.

Tommy gave her a pitying look. “No, Amanda,” he rubbed his temples in disbelief. “They want to buy AriZona Iced Tea. It’s okay, you’re doing great!” Amanda slumped over onto the table at his words. Tommy then turned his attention to Spencer. “So, you’re already locked in. Anything to say about that?” He looked at Spencer expectantly.

Spencer merely shrugged. “I mean, it was kind of a gut instinct thing. I know someone in this office who really likes AriZona, and I could imagine this person also enjoying antique shopping, and I know their car is in the shop right now.” His eyes found yours somewhere throughout his sentence, and he smirked, almost imperceptibly. The tips of your ears burned crimson as he continued to hold eye contact for a moment or two.

“Alright, alright, good stuff. Let’s see that text message!” Tommy exclaimed, pointing at the screen again as your texts were revealed. Tommy, as well as everyone else in the room, gasped. Oh. My. God. You could not believe what you had submitted. Your heart was pounding a million miles a minute. Through laughter, Tommy said, “For those of you who can’t read it, this person says, ‘oh my god, you don’t understand. i NEED him’ need in all caps, by the way,” Tommy added before continuing reading, “‘i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism,’ To which someone else says ‘good lord’” Tommy was cackling. You were trying to hide your face from the contestants without being too obvious, sure that your exponentially reddening face would give you away.”

Amanda gasped. “Oh, I know! I know!” She scribbled something down on her whiteboard. “I have had a very similar conversation with someone, and I can’t really think of anyone else that would say this, so…” She trailed off with a knowing smile. Trevor still looked lost.

Tommy pointed at the TV again, and the image was revealed. You laughed as you saw it, despite having submitted it yourself that very morning. It was a bright blue bra with Weezer on it. Wow, what had you been thinking?

The room broke out into laughter again. “Dude!” Trevor shouted, “What is this?? What am I supposed to do with this?!” He sighed dejectedly and wrote down a name. “I don’t know about this, but… I don’t know who else to put.”

“Trevor, let’s see what you put!” Tommy announced as Trevor turned his whiteboard around, showing Angela’s name. Tommy cocked his head. “Yeah, I’m not feeling good about that for you, Trevor,” he laughed.

Trevor shrugged. “I was really going off the Weezer bra. It seems like something that Angela would laugh at.” Angela shrugged next to you, as if agreeing. She had laughed at the Weezer bra, to be fair.

Tommy moved on to Amanda, asking her to turn her board around, revealing your name. You smiled sheepishly as she looked at you. Spencer was then instructed to turn his board, also revealing Y/N in his messy scrawl. “Let’s see, is it Y/N?” Tommy asked, pointing again at the screen. A cheer erupted as your name appeared on the screen. “Y/N?” Tommy teased, “Wanna tell us who those texts were about?” The camera panned around towards you, bright red and covering your face with your hands.

“Absolutely not!” You shouted.

Angela, the receiver of the text messages you had submitted, leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Oh my god, I cannot believe you submitted those texts. You’re just lucky you cropped out the one before that about Spencer bringing you coffee.”

—

Later that afternoon, you found yourself back at your desk, head in your hand, only somewhat more productive than the day before. You heard what vaguely sounded like the wheels on a desk chair, swiftly approaching, but you didn’t tear your eyes away from your screen until you glimpsed a can being placed on your desk out of the corner of your eye. When you turned, you saw Spencer, a can of AriZona in one hand, in the midst of being placed on your desk, and a can of Mountain Dew Kickstart in the other, presumably for him. He tilted his head and smiled playfully, nudging the AriZona towards you, but saying nothing. You smile back, grabbing the can and cracking it open with a satisfying ‘hiss’. He did the same with his own beverage. “Is this gonna be our new thing?” You joked, “You bringing me drinks to get me to work?”

Spencer laughed. The sound was like nothing you’d ever heard. It was beautiful, soft, angelic, almost. Music to your ears. “Hey,” he said, matching your tone, “Whatever gets you to do your job.” You fake-glared at him, shoving him playfully. “No, but, seriously… I just…” Spencer continued, running his free hand through his dark curls, his tone becoming genuine, “Thought you might like it, I guess. Those Google searches of yours make me think you might like AriZona juuuuuust a little bit.”

You took a long sip from your drink, hoping it would help hide the blush creeping across your face. “Thank you, Spencer. This is really sweet of you.” You tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Spencer coughed awkwardly, breaking the long eye contact that you two had been holding, instead electing to stare at his can of Kickstart.

“So, those texts,” He began, teasingly, “Who’s this lucky guy?” He laughed, but you could almost see a pink hue dusting his cheeks.

You scoffed, turning away in your chair dramatically to hide your matching pink flush. “There is no way in hell I would tell anyone that! It’s a secret, Spencer!” Spencer cocked his head, a mixture of confusion and disappointment painting his features. “So!” You scrambled to change the subject. “Are you ready for the karaoke livestream later? It’s gonna be great!”

His expression shifted to a smile. “Yeah, we’re all ready.” His voice was soft, and he smiled gently. “What about you? Got any good songs lined up for this evening?”

You smiled devilishly as you clicked to another tab, revealing a list. “Do I ever!”

Espresso – Sabrina Carpenter

Silver Spring – Fleetwood Mac

Picture you – Chappell Roan

Freak – Doja Cat

Somethin’ Stupid – Frank Sinatra and Nancy Sinatra

From the Start – Laufey

Lovefool – The Cardigans

December, 1963 – Frankie Valli

Piano Man – Billy Joel

Spencer’s eyes scanned the list, stopping on Somethin’ Stupid. He turned to you, grinning. “Somethin’ stupid would be so great,” He insisted, grasping your shoulder now, “It’s cute, sweet, very you.” Your face was insanely hot, and you knew it. Surely, Spencer did too. He had eyes.

You merely shrugged. “I’d really like to do it, but I want to do the original duet, and I just don’t know who’d do it with me. I really love the harmonies, y’know? I just need someone to sing the melody,” You rambled nervously, gaining momentum by the second. “Maybe Court? Or Angela? I just don’t know. I don’t wanna spring it on them, but I haven’t asked or anything, and-”

Spencer’s grip on your shoulder tightened. “I’ll do it!” He exclaimed, cutting off your rambling. “If- I- Uh- If you’ll have me, that is!” He smiled sheepishly, running a hand through his increasingly messy hair again. He was definitely getting pink now.

You nearly leapt from your chair. Your heart leapt into your throat. You had to keep your mouth shut to keep it and all your feelings from pouring out. You nodded enthusiastically. “Would you really?” You cheered, grasping Spencer’s hand, “That would be great! I don’t know what to say. Thank you, thank you!” You could hardly contain your excitement.

Spencer stood, beginning to make his way back to his own desk. “Alright then,” he chuckled sheepishly, “I guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you later, Spence!” The nickname tasted sweet on your tongue. “Thank you again!”

—

Soon, you found yourself on the Smosh Games stage, perched on the classic couch amongst your closest friends as the crew bustled about, getting the stream set up. Courtney and Damien stood in front of the two microphones, giggling and joking to one another. Suddenly, Spencer’s voice echoed through the room, announcing the start of the stream. “3, 2, 1, and we’re live!” Immediately, Courtney and Damien broke into song.

You couldn’t stop laughing. You absolutely adored when you got to do karaoke with your friends. Hearing them sing, singing together, laughing and joking, and even showing off your own singing voice, while raising money for something you cared about? It was one of your favorite things you had ever done at Smosh. Your friends were busting out some real bangers tonight, and you were living for it. As Damien and Ian’s rendition of The Saga Begins came to a close, you felt eyes land on you. “Y/N, do you wanna go next?” Courtney volun-told you, pushing you out of your seat.

You stood, your eyes meeting Spencer’s silently asking, Do you still want this? Do you want me? He caught your gaze, smiling, giving you a swift nod as he stood as well. He whispered your song choice to Alex before coming into the light. “Alright,” he said, looking at you, “You ready for this?”

You put on a brave face, internally buzzing. You shouldn’t have been so giddy. It was a favor, nothing more. Your friend volunteered to sing a duet with you, you weren’t a teenage girl being brought backstage by Harry Styles for a meet and greet. You shook your hands, trying to calm the storm of butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh, I’m ready. The real question,” You paused, glancing around at your castmates, then at the cameras, “Is if they are ready.”

Spencer looked between you and the camera, smirking. “Trust me, they aren’t ready. Hit it, Alex!”

The opening notes of Somethin’ Stupid floated gently through the studio. It was a starkly different vibe from the last song, but somehow, it couldn’t have felt more right. The lights were insanely bright. You felt like you’d been put on the spot, hung out to dry, scared in a way you’d never felt in a karaoke livestream before. Probably because you’d never sung a love song with your crush in one of these things, you noted off-handedly. You glanced to your left and saw Spencer already looking at you, a dumb smile on his face. He nodded reassuringly, looking almost as nervous as you felt.

I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me

And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there's a chance you won't be leaving with me

The rest of the people in the room seemed to fall away. The lights seemed to dim. You could hear your friends cheering for you softly, almost distantly, but your eyes didn’t leave Spencer’s. As you sang, it was just the two of you. No lights, no cameras, no castmates, no crew, no hundreds of thousands of people watching. Just you two.

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

Your face was hot, and you felt like puking. After singing “I love you,” you managed to tear yourself from Spencer’s gaze, glancing around the room and into the camera. You were vaguely aware of your friends watching in awe, of the dropped jaws, the whispering. The moment was intimate, too intimate for a livestream being watched by thousands of people. You’d seen the comments and edits shipping you, hell, you sought them out. You knew that the fans were having a field day with this. You kept singing, forcing down the sick, nervous feeling in your chest.

I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before

And though it's just a line to you, for me it's true, and never seemed so right before

I practice every day to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true

But then I think I'll wait until the evening gets late, and I'm alone with you

Somehow, you were gazing lovingly into Spencer’s eyes again, and he was doing the same. You’d never seen him quite like this: Soft, gentle, nervous as can be. He looked at you through his eyelashes, flirtatiously, sheepishly, and you wondered how much of this was for the camera and how much was real. You tried to keep yourself from getting your hopes up, but it was too late.

The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

The instrumental break came, and you welcomed the break from singing, swallowing back your feelings, and looking over to your friends on the couch. They all looked, to put it simply, dumbfounded. Courtney gave you an encouraging nod and a smile. Shayne shot you two thumbs up. Angela just excitedly mouthed Oh my God!

The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue

And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

"I love you"

Despite the song ending, Spencer and you stood completely still, merely staring at each other. He had a lovesick, dumb smile painted on his lips, which you were sure mirrored your own. You could faintly hear the cast and crew calling out to you, asking if you were okay, but you didn’t care. You just kept staring. The space between you two, mere inches between the two mic stands, felt electrically charged. You had so much you wanted to say, so much to finally tell Spencer, and yet your mind drew a blank. You had no words to describe how you felt in that moment. Nervous, excited, flustered, breathless, slightly embarrassed. None of it was enough. You felt like you were flying, like all the air in your lungs had turned to helium and floated you into the air. Spencer’s, too. It was just the two of you, soaring through the air together as everything and everyone else fell away.

There was nothing but you, Spencer, and the warm, fuzzy, electric haze hovering between you. You could kiss him. You really wanted to kiss him.

And then, Ian was between you, one hand on each of your shoulders, exclaiming something about moving on to the next song, and the moment was over.

You and Spencer went your separate ways: you went back to the couch with the rest of the cast, and Spencer went back to his place behind the camera. You plopped down next to Angela, who promptly grabbed your forearm. You met her shocked gaze, matching her expression, but trying to be as subtle as possible.

Angela leaned in, putting her lips by your ear. “Holy shit, Y/N,” she murmured, “What was that?” You shook your head and shrugged, trying to remain unnoticed by the cameras. “Y/N, that was like… insanely emotionally loaded. Either he’s a really great actor or he’s completely in love with you.”

You chuckled and shoved her playfully, brushing it off. “C’mon, Ang, I’m sure it’s not really like that. Don’t play with my heart, I can't handle it!” You pretended to faint, feigning offense.

She shoved you back, laughing. “I’m serious!” She insisted, keeping her voice low so the microphones couldn’t pick her up. “He practically had hearts for eyes.” You just shook your head and rolled your eyes, turning back to watch your friends singing.

The rest of the livestream, you could hardly tear your eyes away from Spencer, and he seemed to have the same problem: you caught his eyes lingering on you as he looked around the room more than once, and you felt heat flare in your cheeks each time. Maybe Angela was right? You tried not to get your hopes up. Every time you caught Spencer’s eye, they only got higher.

The stream ended with a chorus of ‘thank you’s and ‘goodbye’s from you and the rest of the cast, and just like that, your long, long week was over and you finally got to crash. All that was left was the car ride home with Spencer.

Oh, God, you realized with a start, freezing in your tracks, Spencer. This was gonna be one awkward car ride. Right on cue, you felt a hand fall on your shoulder. You turned slowly to find Spencer, with his cute, curly hair, and his glasses, and his goofy, sheepish smile. God, you liked him so much.

But you heard the lyrics of the song the two of you had sung. You had something good with him: A safe, comfortable friendship. An alignment in your sense of humor. Someone that you could trust, no matter what. You knew you had something rare, something once-in-a-lifetime, and you weren’t about to ruin it by telling him how you truly felt.

So you took a deep breath and shoved your feelings down as you climbed into the passenger seat of his car a few minutes later. The drive was quiet. You could feel Spencer glancing at you every few seconds, but you didn’t tear your eyes away from the window or say a word. You knew that if you looked at him, or god forbid, opened your mouth, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from word-vomiting your feelings all over.

As the car slowed to a stop outside your apartment building, you finally glanced up at Spencer, finding his gaze already on you. His eyes were wide and shiny, reflecting the Los Angeles city lights in a way that looked like stars. His lips parted slightly, and he took a breath like he was about to say something, but paused, clearly considering his words. “Listen, Y/N,” he began. You knew all too well where this was going. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, or You’re a really great friend, but…, or something equally horrible. You couldn’t handle that, not now. Collecting your things with a newfound haste, you stood, cutting him off.

“Thanks for the ride, Spence!” You exclaimed, your tone strained, “See you Monday!”

He looked straight ahead and swallowed thickly, not meeting your eyes as he responded, “Yeah… Yeah, see you.” You watched as his car peeled out into the street and slowly disappeared, standing on the stoop until all that was left of the vehicle was the red smear of taillights on the horizon, which very well could have belonged to anyone. You sighed and kept standing there, hoping beyond hope that his car would reappear. It didn’t.

—

An hour later, you were slumped on your couch, in your sweats, on a phone call with Angela. You’d shot Spencer a text about half an hour ago, letting him know you’d have your car back by Monday, so he wouldn’t need to drive you anymore. Read, no response. God, you chided yourself, you’d really done it this time.

“Y/N, I swear!” Angela gushed through the phone speakers, “I saw how he was looking at you. It was not a ‘just friends’ look or an ‘I hope she doesn’t take this the wrong way’ look. It was a ‘Please notice me, I will do anything for you’ look. It was written all over his face! He was seriously looking at you like you hung the moon just for him. Don’t be so hard on yourself!”

You shook your head, even though you knew Angela couldn’t see the gesture. “I appreciate you feeding my delusions, Ang, but at some point, I think I need to just cut my losses. He doesn’t like me. That’s just how it-” A knock at the door cut you off. You stood, murmuring something to Angela about having to answer the door real quick.

As you trudged through your apartment, weighed down by your long week, you began to wonder who on earth would be knocking on your door at this hour. You wondered, offhandedly, if you should get a weapon, but you told yourself it was probably just a package or something, nothing to worry about.

When your door swung open, nothing could have prepared you for what was behind it. There, on your doorstep, was Spencer, bouquet in his hand and stupid, sheepish grin on his face. You gasped softly when you saw him, frozen in your tracks. You knew your jaw was on the floor, and you couldn’t be bothered to pick it back up. “Angela…” You said softly, “I’m… I’m gonna need to call you back…”

The phone call ended with a click, and then you were met with silence again. Neither you nor Spencer spoke, just staring at each other for a moment. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what was happening. After what felt like years, you spoke, your throat dry and your voice soft and strained. “Spencer? What… What are you doing here?”

“Y/N.” You reveled in the way he said your name. Quiet, gentle. He exhaled your name like a sigh of relief, a realization, a promise. “I just-” He ran his free hand through his messy curls, “-I needed to see you. I couldn’t leave things the way we did. I don’t want it to be awkward. I want to tell you how I feel, and I want you to believe me, hence these,” he slightly gestured with the flowers.

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t even move. You tried to snap out of it, assuming it must be a dream, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t wake up, and Spencer and his flowers stayed steadfast. This was real.

Spencer took your stunned silence as a cue to continue. “I love you, Y/N. So, so much, and I never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but,” His voice was hoarse and brittle, “I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I need you to know. It’s not just some bit for the camera, or some song on a livestream, it’s everything. You are everything. I’m sorry if this is weird, but I just… Yeah, I just needed you to know.” He looked down at his shoes, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.

“Spencer,” You breathed, taking a step forward. He looked up, his mouth gaping open in an expression of slight shock as you grabbed his free hand. You took another step closer. There was a mere breath between you two, now. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Spencer inched forward slightly, his eyes flicking to your lips. “Y/N, can I…?” He asked nervously. You said nothing. Instead, your lips crashed against his, your hands finding the back of his neck and pulling him in closer. The kiss was eager yet gentle, three years of quiet nights editing, gentle touches behind the camera, and inside jokes around the office. Three years of flirting on camera, sitting together at lunch, cozy game nights, and secrets. Three years of being best friends and yearning to be more. After a moment, Spencer’s hands found your waist and the back of your head. You heard the plastic wrapped around the flowers crinkle as they dropped to the ground, and frankly, you didn’t care.

As you kissed, you felt the stress of the week melting away. Everything suddenly fell into place, and you finally felt like things made sense. You felt complete.

You pulled away, but stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms, simply looking into each other’s eyes, taking the moment in.

“I never want to forget this moment,” You murmured, tipping your forehead against his. He leaned in and kissed you again, casual this time, like he had all the time in the world to kiss you. When he pulled away again, you glanced down, chuckling. “I wish I was wearing something nicer than my old sweats, though,” you said, half joking, half serious, smirking at him wryly.

He chuckled softly, looking you up and down slowly, as if revering you despite your attire. “Oh, hush,” He insisted, his tone full of love, “It’s perfect,” and then, softer, “You’re perfect.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. All of a sudden, your life was perfect.

Thank you sooooo much for reading!

203 notes · View notes

cloverrwritess · 7 days ago

Text

Dear Diary - Damien x Shayne's sister! Reader

Description: Y/n finds an old diary of hers and some pages about a certain person were definitely not meant to be read out loud on Smosh Mouth.

Warnings: Pretty fluffy, ngl but y/n does suffer from an extreme case of embarrassment. Damien should also just count as a warning in general

Notes: Surprise! Two fics in one day? That's so unlike me. Enjoy :)

_______

Being Shayne Topp's younger sister meant that she had a pretty interesting life. Y/n grew up on sets as a kid like her brother, not as an actor, just simply because their mom couldn't get anyone to watch her. So she would tag along to auditions, 'accidentally' get lost on the sets of the shows he did get and spent a lot of her time with other child actors doing homework while they were doing their own version of school.

But spending so much time on sets had made her fall in love with filmmaking. While Shayne grew more comfortable and confident in front of the camera, y/n preferred to be the one filming him. When he started working for a YouTube channel called Smosh, she didn't think that almost eight years later, she'd be working at the same company on the production team.

She didn't want to do it at first, only because she didn't want to just be seen as 'Shayne's sister who got the job because she's Shayne's sister' but she worked hard to get her degree in filmmaking, even writing, directing and producing a few short movies herself. So, not only was there a genuine position at Smosh that allowed her to do all that and more, but it wasn't a place that she felt unheard or disrespected. It took some convincing, but she accepted the job and a year later she was more than happy where she was.

Twenty-eight and living basically her dream since she was thirteen.

Her presence on Smosh had sparked curiosity in the fandom. Everyone knew she was Shayne's sister, but she never really appeared on camera and kept to herself online, so for months there had been dozens of comments asking for her to make an appearance.

She agreed to do an episode of Smosh Mouth, and for this episode she had to bring in a childhood diary. She was already nervous just being on camera, but that added to it since she actually had no idea what would be in it.

She'd been sitting with Shayne and Amanda for a few minutes, just talking while they waited.

"So... y/n, how are you feeling?" Amanda asked.

She sighed, clutching her old diary on her lap. "A little nervous, honestly."

Shayne reached over and rubbed her upper arm. "You'll be great. Don't worry."

She pursed her lips. "You owe me lunch for this."

He and Amanda both laughed. "You got it."

When everything was set up and ready to go, they began the episode.

"Hi. Welcome to Smosh Mouth. I'm Shayne."

"And I'm Amanda. Today, we have a very special guest, y/n Topp!".

"Hi, everyone."

"It's my sister, guys!" Shayne exclaimed. "You know, the fans have been asking for you for a while."

"Yeah." She chuckled. "I've been pretty busy."

"So, uh... y/n, the two of us know you pretty well. But for those who don't know, why don't you explain a bit about your job?".

"Oh, yeah. Sure. Uh... well I'm the production manager here at Smosh, more so for the main channel and pit. But I help out games as well sometimes. I help write scripts for sketches, produce some videos here and there and sometimes direct sketches too. I do some other things, but that's the main part of it."

"And she's amazing at it." Amanda complimented, making her chuckle. "Thank you."

"So, for today's episode we're gonna be reading some pages from our old diaries in a little bit. People were asking for more of that, so we did a two in one. We got y/n on and we're reading our diaries."

"Yeah, so what have you got, y/n? What are we expecting from little you?".

"Well." She giggled. "Uh... I haven't seen this diary in a long time, but I had a flip through some of the pages a few days ago. It... it's rough. That girl was on another planet."

Shayne laughed. "I can't wait. I don't think I've seen that before. I know you had a camera when we were kids. You had that thing for years."

She nodded, turning to Amanda to explain. "Yeah"

"Oh, tell me more."

"Well, I think it was my eleventh birthday, I got this digital camera as a present from our mom and dad. I had been begging them for one for months. It was pale blue and I was obsessed with it. I filmed everything on it. I've got footage of Shayne and other family members just doing random, not particularly exciting things. But I liked pretending I was making a movie, or something."

"That's adorable. Oh my gosh! Baby y/n with her little camera."

"It totally didn't get annoying." Shayne replied sarcastically.

"She filmed everything, Amanda. Like, seriously everything. I'm surprised it held that much footage. I'd just be minding my own business, grabbing a drink from the fridge or something, I'd turn around and see her standing there with her camera pointing at me. She would chase me with it."

"Aww, that's actually kinda sweet. I love that."

Y/n smile slightly. "I wish I brought it in with me. There's some footage on there that Shayne doesn't even know about. I'd have it sitting on the floor in my room and act out scenes with my toys. You know, I would go to sets with him and our mom almost every day. I just wandered around the set talking to myself and I recorded it all."

"That's so cute! Now I definitely can't wait to hear some things from your diary."

She giggled. "I have no idea what's in here. So I'll be just as surprised as you guys."

"Okay, shall we start?". Shayne asked, receiving nods in response. "Alright."

He went first and read out a surprisingly deep poem he wrote when he was sixteen. Amanda read out a full page talking about a sleepover in which she talked about boys with her friends. Then it was y/n's turn.

"Okay, uh...". As she flipped through the pages, Amanda asked what age she was when she had this diary.

"I had it for a while before I used it as an actual diary. Probably from about twelve to fifteen, I'd say. There's a lot of doodles in here that suggest it's from that era."

"That seems on brand for you, though." Amanda replied with a laugh and she nodded in agreement.

"Okay, here's something. I have no idea what this is."

"Okay, let's hear it."

Dear Diary

There's this boy in my brother's class and he's really cute. Even though he's a bit older, he's nice to me and helps me with my homework. That is all.

Amanda gasped as Shayne laughed.

"That is all?!".

Y/n giggled. "That is all, apparently."

"Who was that about?". Shayne asked curiously, making her shrug.

"Uh... I don't remember." She replied, genuinely thinking about it. "There's more on the next page, though."

Dear Diary

It was so embarrassing today. I suck at maths, but that was okay because that same boy from before helped me again. He agreed to keep doing it if I paid him. I only had paper stars, but it made him laugh and I think he liked my paper stars.

As she was reading, it dawned on her that she did, in fact, know exactly who this was about.

There was only one person who used to help her with her maths homework, and he would know it's about him.

It only confirmed it more when she looked at the bottom of the page and saw his name scribbled with a few cliche hearts drawn around it.

Damien

"This is adorable." Amanda commented. "But I'm so curious who it's about."

"Yeah...". She muttered, feeling a little flustered. Shaking her head a little, she tried to play it cool. "I'm as lost as you guys are on that. I don't know. It doesn't have a name, or anything like that."

When she looked at Shayne, he had a suspicious look on his face that slowly turned into a knowing smile and she knew that he figured it out.

"What?".

He chuckled. "Nothing. I'm just amused."

"Is there more?".

'God, I hope not' She thought as she turned the page. After reading a few lines, she let out a little sigh of dismay.

This was mortifying.

"Yeah... there's more."

Amanda cheered. "Yes!".

Shayne wheezed, seeing through his sister's facade. He waved his hand. "You don't have to read any more. I'll just read something else from mine."

Amanda seemed to catch on that Shayne knew something she didn't. "Oh... wait, do you know who it's about?".

He nodded. "I think so."

"Okay, well we can move on then. That's fine."

Y/n winced. "No, it... it's okay. For content, right? I won't say any names, but I'll read one more thing because this is kinda funny."

"Okay."

Dear Diary

I got pulled out of school again this week because of Shayne's stupid job. So now I have to do my school work with actor kids who are all older than me, and they're all so weird.

The three of them laughed at that. "That's so funny." Shayne chuckled.

"Wait, so did that actually happen? You'd have to do school work in that environment?".

"Well, yeah. I went to a public school, but some weeks I'd get pulled out because we had to travel to some of these sets, so our mom dragged me along. My teachers sent packs for me to do so I wouldn't fall behind in my classes. I was essentially home schooled, but as you know Shayne didn't go to high school. He did all his schooling with other actor kids, but since there wasn't really anywhere else for me to go, I'd just go with him and do my school work in there."

"Ah, okay. That makes sense."

None of them are really nice to me, except Shayne and [blank]. I don't know why, but they all had to leave. [Blank] stayed behind with me, though. I like when he helps me with my homework, he doesn't make me feel dumb when I don't know the answers. He sat next to me and I think I felt butterflies in my stomach. He's funny and sweet and smart and looks out for me when Shayne's not there.

I think I like, like him.

Reading over the next part, it only got worse and she pursed her lips. Damien for sure was gonna know this was about him, and she knew fans would eat this up and do what they always do; snoop until they find the answers they want. She could only hope the lights above them would hide the blush on her cheeks.

"God, there's so much in here about this. I don't even remember writing any of it."

Shayne smiled. "Maybe that's because your brain blocked it out."

Amanda laughed. "You like, like him?".

She chuckled. "Yeah, I mean my only frame of reference for having a crush back then was in movies. So... I don't know."

"What age were you?".

She hums. "Hm... maybe fifteen. I'm not sure."

Finally they moved on and Shayne read out another deep poem, giving y/n a bit of a break. She sat there, stewing in her embarrassment.

The only comfort she had was that Damien wasn't even in the Smosh office today.

As she had predicted, chaos ensued over the next few days after the episode came out. Fans were excited that she was on camera at all, but they found out quicker than she expected that she was talking about Damien. And she was sure they were flooding his inboxes and sending him links, so he was probably aware of the situation now.

She saw Damien a week later at work and she couldn't tell if he knew or not. He greeted her with a smile as always and didn't appear to be nearly as awkward as she was being. They'd always been comfortable with each other and close friends.

She had read her diary out on camera for content and it did do well, as expected. But now she was worried how it would affect her friendship with him.

Later in the day, when she knew he would be finished filming for a while, she found him at his desk. She simply just had to ask or she knew it would drive her crazy.

"Hey, y/n. What's up?".

"Uh... the sky." She blurted out randomly. She blinked, wondering why on earth she said that. Damien smiled nonetheless. She shook her head. "Sorry, that was weird."

He chuckled. "No, it's fine. You seem on edge. Are you okay?".

She looked at him, then sighed. "You've seen the video, haven't you?".

His smile softened as he leaned back into his seat. He nodded. "Yeah."

She couldn't tell if it was worse now that she knew he knew about it. All she could feel was the slight panic in her chest.

He frowned, tilting his head a little as he noticed something was off. He stood up, moving to stand in front of her.

"I'm so sorry, Damien. I genuinely forgot about all of it and I didn't know I'd be reading that. I shouldn't have done that to you. I figured it would be good for the video, but I wasn't thinking and-".

"Woah. Hey, hey, hey. Y/n, slow down."

She paused.

"Can you please look at me?".

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. "Nope."

He chuckled softly. "Y/n, it's okay."

"I really didn't know."

"I know." He replied softly. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

That made her look at him. "I was worried that you'd think I was weird and not want to be friends anymore."

"What? Why would you think that?".

"Because I figured you'd know it was about you."

"Well... yeah. It wasn't hard to figure that out y/n. Unless you paid someone else in paper stars to help you with homework."

She chuckled awkwardly and sighed. "No, just you."

He smiled. "I don't think it was weird. You wrote that when you were a kid, I can't really blame you for that. But... I do think it's adorable and flattering."

"Really?".

It was then she noticed that he was blushing a little.

"Yeah, I think it's sweet that you thought so highly of me back then."

She shrugged. "Well, of course I did. I still do."

He smiled slightly as she asked if she could hug him. He nodded, opening his arms.

She stepped into his embrace and put her arms around him and she rested her head on his chest, which he allowed.

She almost sighed in relief. "I was so worried I was gonna lose you, Damien."

"That's never gonna happen." He replied, pulling back a little to look at her, just in time to see a tear fall down her cheek.

Instinctively, he brought his hand up to her cheek and gently wiped it away with his thumb.

When he realised what he'd done, he paused and looked at her. She tilted her head.

"What?".

He smiled slightly, shaking his head. "Nothing. I just think we might have a lot to talk about."

"Okay, about what?".

He said nothing. But he took her hand and guided her hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it, making her blush profusely.

Shit. Apparently they did have a lot to talk about.

_______

Tag list:

@alex--awesome--22

@honeymattison

@haebragi

@superstinkychimp

@burrowedinnature77

@digonthis

@happyclifford

@lisiliely

@dewwdr0p

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@zmbiegrlx3

@illpunchyouintheface

@spargelhund

@onthebrinkofdink1020

@willowsworldsstuff

@lovelysagesblog

@pb-n-jen

@witchseer25607

@crazycat-ladys-blog

@jesterghuleh

152 notes · View notes

cloverrwritess · 8 days ago

Text

Press [E] To Kneel

Spencer Agnew x Software Engineer!Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Summary: Spencer thinks he’s just playing a cute anniversary game his girlfriend made, until the final level asks the biggest question of all.

Warnings: Fluff and light language. (Fun emojis!)

A/N: This was a lovely request from an amazing genius! I had so much fun writing every pixel of this love story!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’d never planned on staying in Los Angeles.

The original plan had been simple: make games, win awards, go home.

And for a while, you did. Straight out of university, you landed your dream job at a boutique studio that specialized in narrative-heavy indie games. You weren’t just coding, you were storytelling through gameplay. By the time you were twenty-five, you’d already helped create two award-winning titles. Critics called your work “emotionally immersive” and “hauntingly clever.” You called it “pressing buttons until something felt right.”

Somewhere between crunch weeks and conference panels, you met Spencer.

You didn’t expect someone like him to say yes when your studio reached out looking for a freelance narrative consultant. But he did. Maybe because the game you were working on involved absurd comedy, existential robots, and morally grey NPCs who made dad jokes. His name was already well known from Smosh, but you only knew him as the guy who had strong opinions about quest trees and wrote shockingly good branching dialogue.

What started as a contract gig quickly became something more. When Spencer wasn’t filming, he’d spend hours on calls with you, fleshing out character arcs and cracking open emotional plot beats with surgical precision. You swore he could make a pixel sprite cry. You, meanwhile, designed entire levels inspired by inside jokes you had with him. Including one infamous boss battle that featured a corrupted save file and a possessed coffee pot.

He made your games better. Sharper. Funnier. More human.

And you? You made him laugh.

You were a cinnamon roll in programmer’s clothing; a storm of puns, pop culture references, and code magic. You wrote patch notes in limericks. You had a pet cactus named Commander Prickle. You once added a secret dev room in the game that contained a love letter to Star Wars, a playable cat, and a JPEG of your favorite breakfast burrito.

Spencer fell for you hard.

And, okay, maybe you fell for him first.

Two games. Countless late-night builds. One forehead kiss on a loading dock in Austin that derailed everything in the best possible way.

It was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Because then came the investors.

They promised funding. Exposure. Global launches. All they wanted in return was control. Slowly, they took it all: your timelines, your characters, your creative freedom. They shelved Spencer’s favorite storyline. They told you to “scale down the weird” and “lean into monetizable emotional arcs.” They started talking about replacing the lead writer (Spencer) with someone “more brand-aligned.”

You walked out before they could rip up the last thing that mattered.

Spencer, to your eternal surprise, walked with you.

You went freelance. He went back to focusing full-time on Smosh. You thought that chapter of your life — game dev, dreams, building something bigger than yourselves — was over. You told yourself it was okay. That you’d survive.

But you didn’t expect the silence that came after.

You spent six weeks curled up with your laptop in a mountain of takeout containers, promising yourself you’d bounce back, that you’d build again. Instead, you started editing freelance, grabbing whatever work you could just to keep moving. Coding felt too raw. Too close.

And then an old friend texted you.

Alex Tran: Hey! Random idea. Want to come edit for us a bit? We need someone nerdy enough to get the Skyrim joke and fast enough to cut out Shayne’s fart soundboard.”

You: Are those separate qualifications?

Alex Tran: Nope. Same job, same person. And we’d like it to be you.

You thought it would be temporary. Just a few weeks of freelance work, maybe a couple of game-themed sketches. You didn’t expect to fall in love with the weird, chaotic brilliance of the Smosh crew. Or to find a second creative home in a room full of green screens, snacks, and too many rubber chickens.

You especially didn’t expect Spencer. Again.

He was quieter at Smosh. More sardonic, a little more guarded than the boy who used to send you playlists for your late-night coding sessions. But when he saw you in the breakroom with your eyes wide, fingers stained with hot Cheetos dust, and explaining the probability matrix you used to randomize enemy behavior in your old game, he smiled.

He hadn’t forgotten.

Neither had you.

You picked up right where you left off. Bickering over color grading. Sharing playlists. Syncing B-roll and giggling at outtakes until 2 a.m. You started eating lunch together, editing side-by-side, quietly rebuilding something that had never truly broken.

He saw you. That part still scared you.

Because you were always the quirky one. The one with snort-laughs and messy desks and Star Wars socks. You wore your weirdness like armor and your brilliance like a joke. Smart enough to break a game engine in a day, and soft enough to cry at the title screen music.

But Spencer never made you feel like too much.

He made you feel like enough.

Over time, “you’re fun to edit with” turned into “want to get dinner?” and then into long nights at his place, curled up with controllers and Chinese takeout. He didn’t care that you’d stepped back from the industry. He never treated it like a failure. In fact, whenever you got that itch, that hunger to build something again, he’d just tilt his head and say:

“I can’t wait to see what you make next.”

And that’s when the idea hit.

Not a game for money.

Not a game for reviews or awards or Reddit threads full of half-accurate theories.

But a game for him.

For the boy who helped you build a world out of pixels and code.

For the man who watched you crash, reboot, and rebuild with all the love in the world.

For the only player who ever really understood the rules of your heart.

You weren’t just going to tell him you loved him.

You were going to code it.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Smosh Games office was alive with that specific kind of chaotic energy that only hit on shoot days and special streams.

Cameras were being positioned. Audio levels were getting checked. Lighting gels swapped out. You sat criss-cross on the floor beside the couch, laptop in your lap, pretending to tweak a plugin while secretly double-checking (for the seventeenth time) that the custom cutscenes in your game wouldn’t crash mid-stream.

“You good?” Courtney called from the snack table, cracking open a fizzy water. “You look like you’re gonna throw up or propose to someone.”

You didn’t even look up. “Yes.”

Across the room, Spencer adjusted his headset with a confused squint. “Which one?”

You smiled. “Guess.”

He blinked. “…Wait, what?”

Your heart thudded in your throat, but you just shrugged innocently. “Nothing, cinnamon!” And Spencer didn’t think any more of it.

Today was technically a work stream, a special feature on the Smosh Games channel titled “Spencer Plays a Game Made Just for Him.” The idea had started as a half-joke, pitched during a brainstorming meeting when someone asked what anniversary content might look like.

What no one else knew, not even Spencer, was that you’d spent months crafting the perfect game behind the scenes. A silly, sweet, emotionally explosive side-scroller designed specifically for him. To celebrate your years together. To relive it all. To ask a question you hadn’t been brave enough to ask out loud.

Until now.

Spencer took a seat on the main gaming chair, hoodie rolled to his elbows, sleeves slightly wrinkled from a full day of filming. You settled beside him, noticeably quieter than usual.

Spencer took a seat on the main gaming couch, flannel rolled to his elbows, sleeves slightly wrinkled from a full day of filming. You settled beside him, noticeably quieter than usual.

“You okay, baby?” he murmured under his breath, mic still muted.

You nodded too fast. “Totally fine. Just a little nervous, cinnamon.”

“I’ve seen you handle live crash bugs with one eye closed and a donut in your hand.”

“This is different.”

He looked at you curiously but didn’t press.

From behind the camera, Alex waved two fingers and counted them down. “And we are live in three… two…”

Spencer’s mic clicked on just as the title card splashed across the monitor behind him.

🔴 LIVE: SPENCER PLAYS A GAME MADE JUST FOR HIM: Anniversary Stream · Smosh Games Channel · Sponsored by Emotional Damage

The chat exploded instantly.

— OMGGGGGGG

— She MADE him a WHOLE GAME????

— I would literally combust if someone did this for me😭

— THEY’RE SO STUPID IN LOVE I CAN’T

— I HOPE HE CRIES

“Hey, guys,” Spencer greeted, lifting a hand in mock calm. “Welcome to our totally normal, definitely low-stakes stream. I’m here with my brilliant and mildly terrifying partner, who apparently built an entire game from scratch just so I’d play it on camera and embarrass myself.”

You waved awkwardly at the chat cam. “Hi.”

“She’s being modest,” Shayne’s voice piped in from off-screen, already halfway into a La Croix. “I’ve seenlike three seconds of it and it’s unreal.”

Courtney leaned into frame with a conspiratorial smirk. “I’ve cried twice already and I haven’t even touched a controller.”

“I’m so scared,” Spencer said flatly, eyes darting between you and the screen. “Anyway, it’s our anniversary today—”

— AWWWWWW💕💕

— I KNEW IT

— FOUR YEARS STRONG BABYYYY

— If he doesn’t propose by the end of this I’m suing

Spencer laughed. “We’ve been dating a while. This is probably the longest build-up to a game release I’ve ever experienced.”

“I’m a perfectionist,” you muttered under your breath.

Spencer looked at you sideways. “You delayed this stream twice because you wanted the menu animation to ‘feel more emotionally resonant.’”

“That animation is doing heavy narrative lifting, thank you.”

He rolled his eyes, fond. “Alright, let’s boot this up.”

You plugged in the USB yourself, fingers trembling slightly, and watched as the screen flickered black. The game launched without a hitch, thank goodness, and a cascade of pixelated gold hearts and soft 16-bit music filled the monitors.

A retro-style title screen blinked to life:

QUEST FOR THE CINNAMON HEART💘

Press Start to Begin

Pixel-Spencer stood in the middle of the screen in all his tiny, hoodie-wearing glory. The background looked suspiciously like the Smosh studio.

Spencer leaned in. “Wait. You animated my stupid little walk?”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling. “Accurately, might I add.”

— QUEST FOR THE CINNAMON HEART I’M GONE💀

— IT’S PIXEL HIM. PIXEL SPENCER.

— I would die for tiny hoodie Spencer

— STOP CINNAMON IS HER NICKNAME FOR HIM🥹

Spencer squinted at the text. “This is the most ominously romantic title screen I’ve ever seen.”

“Press start,” you whispered.

He did.

The screen went dark.

Then soft, pixelated piano notes trickled in, a simple melody which was almost lullaby-like. Warm tones bloomed into view: a small, animated storybook flipping open across the screen.

Once upon a time, in a world full of chaos and crash logs…

A pixel-art cutscene began, gently animated like an 8-bit fairytale.

…there was a programmer. Brilliant. Kind. Goofy as hell.

She built worlds for other people to explore… but rarely let anyone into her own.

On-screen, a tiny pixel version of you sat cross-legged in a glowing cave of code. Glitches flickered at the edges, little pixel storms of doubt and burnout. The sprite curled inward, eyes downcast, barely visible beneath the twinkling lines of code floating above her head.

Then a second sprite appeared.

Until one day, a boy walked in.

He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t ask to change her world. He just wanted to see it.

Pixel-Spencer entered the cave, in his tiny hoodie and nervous posture, holding a heart-shaped lantern. He didn’t speak. He just sat beside the other sprite, offering his light.

Together, they started building. Not just games. Not just stories.

Something else. Something quieter. Softer. Real.

The music swelled gently.

But even good code breaks sometimes.

The sprites stood in front of a massive glitch wall, a looming tower of red errors and broken platforms. They tried to climb it together. Failed. Tried again. A storm of pixel rain fell around them.

But they never let go.

This is their story.

The journey they’ve already taken… and the one that’s still ahead. Every memory. Every restart. Every choice that led to now.

The camera slowly zoomed out on the two sprites, now holding hands, as they stepped forward toward a glowing door marked Begin.

The text shimmered one last time.

Welcome to the Quest for the Cinnamon Heart.

Press any key to begin.

The room was silent.

Spencer hadn’t said a word.

You could feel his breath hitch beside you. His hand twitched near the keyboard, hovering like he needed a second to absorb it.

Behind the camera everyone had gone still.

The chat had frozen in reverence.

— …oh

— I wasn’t ready

— WHO GAVE HER THE RIGHT

— I just started crying and I don’t know why

— I would die for both of them

Spencer cleared his throat. “Okay. I’m already emotionally compromised and I haven’t even moved yet.”

You smiled, heart hammering. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

He turned to you, and for a second, a full unfiltered second, he looked at you like he knew. Like he didn’t have the words yet, but something in him had caught a flicker of what was coming.

But then he smirked.

“Let’s do this.”

He pressed a key.

The game shifted.

The screen blinked into a lovingly rendered pixel version of the Smosh office, complete with crooked lighting rigs, Courtney’s coffee cup on a desk, and a cardboard cutout of Damien with googly eyes.

Pixel-Spencer stood in the lobby, blinking up at a glowing prompt:

LEVEL ONE: THE FIRST GLITCH 👾

OBJECTIVE: Find the New Editor

Tip: She has a sharp tongue and good taste in sci-fi.

Spencer squinted. “This already feels targeted.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

He moved his sprite around the space, clicking on various coworkers:

🧔‍♂️ Pixel-Shayne: “She’s in the edit bay. Try not to fall in love this time.”

👱‍♀️ Pixel-Courtney: “She already renamed one of your files something passive aggressive. You’re in danger.”

🧑‍🦳 Pixel-Damien: “Why are you sweating? Oh god, is this feelings?”

The chat was eating it up:

— PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE FILE NAMES I’M SCREAMING 🤣

— this is 100% real lore

— why is this game calling him OUT like this

— the dialogue is too good wtf she’s a genius 🙌

Finally, Spencer found her (you) tucked away in a tiny edit bay, headphones on, surrounded by glowing monitors.

Pixel-You looked up.

“You must be the guy who thinks he’s funny.”

[OPTIONS: FLIRT | PANIC | HAND OVER DRIVE]

Spencer groaned. “Oh come on.”

“Choose wisely,” you said.

He grinned and selected PANIC.

His sprite immediately dropped the hard drive and fell over. Pixel-You laughed and picked it up.

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to roast you properly. Let’s do this.”

The level ended with both sprites sitting back-to-back at desks, screens glowing, a heart meter flickering quietly in the top corner.

The level ended with a soft chime and a fade to black, the pixel-heart in the corner pulsing slowly. The words “Level Complete” shimmered across the screen in bold gold letters. A tiny sprite of Spencer raised his fist triumphantly, even as real-world Spencer leaned back in his chair, eyes still fixed on the screen.

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

You could feel the air shift.

The studio had grown quieter too, as if everyone, even the crew behind the cameras, knew this stream was turning into something else. Something more than just a goofy anniversary bit.

Spencer’s eyes flicked toward you.

“You… remembered all of that,” he said quietly.

You swallowed. “Of course I did.”

A long pause. He looked like he was about to say something, something bigger, but then Shayne shouted from behind the camera, “IS THAT DAMIEN’S ACTUAL GOOGLY EYE CUTOUT?!”

You both broke into laughter, the moment cracking like glass underfoot.

Spencer shook his head, smiling down at the keyboard.

“You’re dangerous,” he murmured, half to himself.

You leaned forward, chin on his shoulder. “You haven’t even seen the boss fight yet.”

He tilted his head just enough to nudge his temple against yours, a small, quiet thank-you disguised as a gesture.

And then the screen shifted.

A flickering globe icon appeared.

Lightning crackled in pixel form. A choppy, 8-bit remix of a romantic theme underscored the stage, glitchy and distorted like an old VHS.

LEVEL TWO: BUFFERING LOVE 😍

OBJECTIVE: Stay connected across time zones, bad Wi-Fi, and international SIM card meltdowns.

Spencer burst out laughing. “Oh my god. It’s long-distance mode.”

You grinned. “Boss level Wi-Fi trauma.”

His sprite stood on the left of the screen. Pixel-You appeared on the right, backpack slung over one shoulder, coffee in hand, standing in front of a blinking router.

Between them: a broken, crumbling path of platforms, text bubbles, missed calls, lag symbols, and static clouds.

Tip: Connection is not guaranteed. Try anyway.

The chat blew up again.

— STOP THIS IS TOO REAL

— someone give her a writing award

— I once watched that Smosh Games stream where Spencer froze mid-sentence and she texted to say he looked like a concerned goat 🐐

— THIS IS CANON

— this is ACTUALLY beautiful, I’m not joking

Spencer started jumping from platform to platform, dodging:

Floating “Poor Connection” alerts

Flying Wi-Fi ghosts

Glitch walls labeled “Mismatched Time Zones”

A rapidly spinning dial that read “She fell asleep mid call”

“Oh my god, I forgot about that one night where you passed out mid-FaceTime with your laptop open on your chest.”

You covered your face. “I was jetlagged!”

Halfway through, he hit a new mechanic, a Text Message Puzzle, where Pixel-Spencer had to unscramble pre-written phrases to restore the connection:

“Goodnight from here”

“Wish you were closer”

“Still thinking about you”

“Don’t forget to eat”

He matched each correctly.

The connection bar filled.

Your sprite flickered in fully.

Pixel-You ran forward across the screen and collided with Pixel-Spencer just as the stormy backdrop softened into sunrise. They hugged.

The music swelled into a brighter, warmer version of the glitched love theme.

“Some connections take work. But they’re worth it.”

Spencer didn’t say anything this time.

He just stared at the screen, blinking a little too much.

You quietly bumped his foot with yours. “Still with me?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

A beat.

Then, still looking at the screen:

“…You built all of this for me.”

Your smile was soft now. “Took me three years to find the right engine for the hug mechanic.”

He huffed a laugh, eyes wet. “Of course it did.”

The heart in the top corner pulsed again, just a little brighter than before.

Level Two faded out with soft pixel sparkles and the words “Level Complete” drifting up the screen.

The studio didn’t erupt like it usually did after a successful gameplay segment. There was no bit, no gag, no Shayne screaming from behind the lights.

Just a still, quiet sort of hush.

Spencer leaned back slightly in his chair, a hand coming up to rub at the corner of his eye. Not dramatic, not for show, just reflexive. You sat a little straighter beside him, watching.

Courtney was the first to break the silence. Their voice came through from off-screen, softer than usual.

“Hey… I know we joke a lot but, uh… this is beautiful. Like, actually beautiful.”

Alex nodded from behind the camera. “This is gonna break the internet in the nicest possible way.”

Shayne whispered, far too loud, “If no one proposes by the end of this I’m walking into traffic.”

Spencer snorted, wiping his hand down his face. “Please don’t.”

— I love that everyone just went silent for that

— you know a moment hits when SMOSH goes quiet

— spencer’s eyes are glassy do NOT pan away👀

— she really made a therapy game and handed it to him on their anniversary

— BEST STREAM OF ALL TIME

You reached over, gently bumped your knee against his again. “Wanna take a break, cinnamon ?”

Spencer shook his head once. “Not yet.”

And then he hit continue.

The screen turned dark.

The music changed — stripped down now, a lo-fi piano melody underlined with static and distant echoes, like a song trying to play through a broken speaker.

The level title hovered:

LEVEL THREE: THE BREAKPOINT 💔

OBJECTIVE: Remember what we almost lost.

Spencer exhaled.

“Oh.”

Pixel-Spencer appeared alone, standing in the middle of a rainy pixel city street. Lights blinked in the background. Cars drove by in silence. Every few seconds, thunder rolled in faint flashes.

The sprite didn’t move at first.

The player couldn’t make him.

Instead, text slowly filled the screen, line by line, fragments of a fight.

“You’re not listening.”

“I am listening, you’re just not saying anything real.”

“I can’t do this tonight.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have to.”

Spencer swallowed thickly.

The character finally moved, but only at a slow walk. As he made his way across the side-scrolling city, bits of memory appeared in windows, lit like silent cutscenes:

A flash of you curled up on the couch crying.

Spencer pacing with a phone pressed to his temple.

A text bubble reading “I don’t know what we’re doing anymore.”

The pixel heart in the corner? Cracked.

You said nothing.

The room said nothing.

Only the chat filled in the silence:

— this one hurts😔

— oh god this is the fight isn’t it

— she turned their lowest point into a game level??

— art. this is ART.

— how did she make sadness feel this beautiful

Spencer’s sprite stopped at a train station. A pop-up message appeared:

You can leave now.

[OPTIONS: STAY | GO]

He hovered.

You could feel the hesitation in him, both on screen and beside you. He didn’t want to get it wrong.

Spencer selected STAY.

The sprite turned around.

The music shifted. Same melody, but warmer, rising through the static like sunrise breaking through fog. As Pixel-Spencer retraced his steps, bits of color returned to the city around him. Faint light in the windows. People walking. Tiny sprouting plants on the sidewalk.

He returned to the apartment.

Pixel-You opened the door.

They stood in silence.

Then, slowly, they reached for each other’s hands.

“We didn’t fix everything that night.”

“But we chose each other anyway.”

The cracked pixel heart pulsed once… then slowly mended.

Level Complete.

Spencer sat perfectly still.

His fingers weren’t even on the keyboard anymore.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.

He finally turned, voice a little rough. “You remembered all of it. Not just the good.”

You met his eyes. “It wouldn’t be us if I didn’t.”

He nodded.

And then: “Thank you.”

The quiet in the studio deepened. Not awkward, not heavy. Just full. A breath held between beats. The moment right before something gives.

— I’m actually crying what is this😭

— I’ve never felt so emotionally invested in a relationship I’m not even in

— marry her immediately. I’m serious😠

— the narrative design of this game is UNREAL

— Spencer MARRY HER

Then the screen flashed:

Next Level: Pizza Nights & Patch Notes🍕

Press Any Key to Continue

Spencer blinked. Laughed quietly.

“Okay,” he said, voice lighter but still thick with feeling. “I’m emotionally destroyed, and we’re only halfway through.”

You just smiled.

Spencer pressed a key, and the screen faded from black into something softer.

The piano theme from the last level lingered, but now it was lighter, tinged with acoustic guitar and the occasional, playful pluck of strings.

Onscreen, a pixel version of your shared apartment blinked into view.

It was rendered with quiet reverence. There was a pixel couch with a rainbow quilt tossed over the back, a laundry basket half-full in the corner, an open pizza box on the coffee table, a cat curled up on a stack of game discs. Everything glowed faintly, like golden hour through digital glass.

At the top of the screen, the level title appeared:

LEVEL FOUR: PIZZA NIGHTS & PATCH NOTES🍕

OBJECTIVE: Build a home, one night at a time.

Spencer made a soft sound in his throat, not quite a laugh and not quite a sigh.

His sprite appeared at the front door. Pixel-You padded out from the kitchen, hair messy, a controller in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other.

You offered it to him.

He accepted.

— THEY’RE COHABITING IN PIXELS I’M SOBBING

— this is the romcom montage level and I love it

— not the laundry basket 😭 the DETAIL

— she made a whole love letter out of GAME MECHANICS

The level played differently than the others. It was less linear and more exploratory.

Spencer moved from room to room in the apartment, clicking on different interactive elements that triggered cozy memories.

The Couch 🛋️

A cutscene played of the two of you curled up, half-asleep while the TV played something neither of you were really watching. Pixel-You mumbled something like “I’d fight a dragon for you.” Pixel-Spencer replied, “I’d let you. You’re scarier.”

The Kitchen Counter 🍕

A mini-game launched where Spencer had to build a pizza to match your ridiculous order — half mushroom, no olives, extra cheese, crust well-done. Each incorrect topping triggered a disapproving head shake from Pixel-You.

The Computer Desk 💻

The screen shifted into a debugging mini-puzzle where both sprites worked side-by-side, fixing game code and bickering flirtatiously:

“You missed a semicolon.”

“You’re a semicolon.”

“That doesn’t even make sense—”

“It’s the tone that matters.”

The Bedroom 🛏️

A quieter moment. Just two sprites sitting on the floor, backs against the bed, looking at a laptop between them.

A single line hovered:

“We’re allowed to be happy, you know.”

As Spencer moved through the space, the pixel heart meter in the corner filled with tiny bursts of color.

The chat, which had been full of weeping moments ago, was now unhinged in the most wholesome way:

— THIS IS DOMESTIC HEALING ❤️‍🩹

— I would die for pixel game night

— the semicolon line got me I’m DONE

— if this was a real game I’d play it once a month just to feel something

— this is what love looks like. she built what love looks like 🥹

Spencer reached the final door of the level, the exit to the hallway, and paused.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “There’s no boss fight?”

“Nope.”

He blinked at you.

You shrugged. “Not every level needs one.”

Spencer stared at the screen for a long moment, and then back at you. Something unsaid flickered behind his eyes.

“I love this level,” he said, voice low and warm.

You smiled. “Me too.”

He pressed a key.

Sometimes, love is just pizza and patch notes and showing up again tomorrow.

Level Complete.

The screen faded, and the studio lights buzzed softly in the quiet between scenes. Spencer turned in his seat and looked at you, really looked at you.

“You made our life into something playable,” he murmured.

You felt your throat tighten. “Is that… weird?”

He shook his head. “It’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

The chat was losing its mind again, but you hardly saw it.

Everything felt soft. Golden. Fragile in the best way, like something you didn’t want to breathe on too hard in case it shattered.

Behind the camera, someone sniffled.

Courtney whispered, “If you don’t marry her by the end of this stream, I will.”

Spencer gave a watery laugh. “You might have to fight me for her.”

And with that, the screen blinked again.

The next title card hovered into view:

Next Level: Meeting the Parents (And Surviving It) 🧍🧍‍♀️

Optional Side Quest: Impress Her Dad With Trivia

Spencer groaned.

“Oh no.”

The screen flashed.

A new level title appeared. This time scrawled across the top in bold, pixel-font red, with a dramatic orchestral sting that was definitely too intense for the context.

LEVEL FIVE: MEETING THE PARENTS (AND SURVIVING IT) 🧍🧍‍♀️

OBJECTIVE: Don't say anything weird.

Spencer groaned. “I already hate this.”

You grinned beside him. “This was your actual dialogue the night before.”

The scene opened in a pixel version of a suburban home, the familiar layout replicated with lovingly specific detail. A porch with potted plants. A welcome mat that said “NO SOLICITING (unless it’s for dessert).” A digital family photo over the mantle featuring a pixel-you in braces and a comically large cat.

— PLEASE. NOT THE MAT. — no because I bet her mom actually has that💅 — that cat is photorealistic someone check on her — “don’t say anything weird” LMAO so this level is impossible

Pixel-Spencer stood at the front gate, facing a blinking objective box:

Find a way into her parents’ hearts. Warning: There is no respawn button.

The level kicked off with a split-objective structure:

Main Quest: Survive dinner with her parents

Side Quests:

🟩 Compliment her mom’s lasagna 🟨 Avoid political traps 🟪 Pretend to understand sports 🟧 Impress her dad with trivia

Spencer winced. “I’m gonna die.”

“Be careful,” you said. “There’s a passive-aggressive silence meter.”

He moved cautiously through the entryway, triggering interactions:

👩‍🦰 Pixel-Mom:

“So… you make internet videos?” [OPTIONS: Say yes proudly | Downplay it | Deflect to your girlfriend]

He chose: Say yes proudly. Pixel-Mom nodded, then added, “Hmm. So… no pension?”

“Oh my god,” Spencer muttered. “That’s exactly what she said.”

You cackled.

🧓 Pixel-Dad:

“What’s your opinion on The Godfather trilogy?” [OPTIONS: Say Part II is best | Say Part I is best | Say you’ve never seen it]

Spencer hovered over “Never seen it.”

You grabbed his wrist.

He gasped. “YOU PUT A TRAP IN.”

“YOU NEVER SAW IT. I HAD TO WARN YOU.”

"I DID RIGHT AFTER THIS!"

He panicked, selected Part II is best.

Pixel-Dad nodded slowly. A +1 floated above his head.

Spencer threw his hands up. “Let’s goooo!”

— the GODFATHER TRAP I’M CRYING — she built a BOSS DAD and gave him OPINIONS — no because this is actually genius game design — HOW DO I PLAY THIS IRL — SPENCER NOT SEEING A MOVIE?! AND IT BEING THE GODFATHER?!😡

In the dining room, the dinner scene was a rhythm mini-game. Spencer had to match dialogue beats and deliver compliments at appropriate times to keep the family’s heart meter from dropping.

It included such iconic moments as:

“Wow, this salad is seasoned perfectly.”

“Your garden gnome collection is charming and not creepy.”

“My daughter talks about you all the time. She adores you.”

The last line caused a spark animation. The pixel heart in the corner glowed golden, and a small cutscene triggered:

Pixel-You reached under the table and squeezed Pixel-Spencer’s hand.

“You’re doing great.”

Back in the studio, Spencer’s hand had gone still on the mouse. He stared at the screen a moment longer than necessary, a tiny smile pulling at his lips.

“I was so nervous that night,” he said quietly.

“I know,” you murmured. “But you were perfect.”

“Your dad asked me about six different baseball stats and then grilled me on what I’d do if you got a better job across the country.”

“I warned you he was dramatic.”

Spencer chuckled. “He said if I ever broke your heart, he’d do it backwards and with flair.”

“He meant it.”

— I WANT TO MEET HER DAD SO BAD — backwards and with flair 😭 this is the dad of the year — this game is a romcom AND a coming-of-age journey I’m not okay — someone give this woman a job directing emotional indie games immediately — THEY’RE LITERALLY SO IN LOVE STOP

The level ended with the two pixel sprites on the front porch.

Pixel-Dad handed Pixel-Spencer a Tupperware of leftovers and gave a solemn nod.

Pixel-Mom smiled gently and said, “You make her laugh. That’s good.”

The heart meter burst into sparkles.

Love is earned one awkward dinner at a time.

Level Complete.

Spencer leaned back in his chair with a hand over his heart.

“That was somehow more stressful the second time.”

You tilted your head. “You did better this time. You didn’t call my uncle’s dog a ‘tax deduction.’”

“I STAND BY THAT. HE FILED THE DOG UNDER BUSINESS EXPENSES.”

You both burst into laughter as the next level title appeared onscreen:

Next Level: “Couch Cuddles & Code Reviews” 🛋️ Objective: Support her through the burnout. Bonus XP for forehead kisses.

Spencer stared at it, then turned to you slowly.

“Oh. It’s that level, huh?”

You only smiled.

The title card for the next level hovered onscreen, but Spencer didn’t hit continue right away.

The studio had mellowed, the usual Smosh buzz giving way to something quieter. Shayne had long stopped throwing in commentary. Courtney now sat cross-legged on the floor beside the camera rig, watching with chin in hand. Alex had pulled out his phone, not to scroll, but to film the moment, like even he didn’t want to forget it.

Spencer reached up and tugged lightly at the cable on his headset, adjusting it out of habit. His other hand hovered uncertainly near his lap until you gently reached over and laced your fingers through his.

He held on like he needed the anchor.

“Are you okay?” you asked, voice low, off-mic.

He looked at you, really looked, and gave a small nod.

“Yeah. I’m just…” He exhaled, almost laughed. “This is the best and most emotionally compromising workday I’ve ever had.”

You smiled. “You’ve survived worse and have inflicted worse. You’ve got this, cinnamon.”

A soft beat.

He squeezed your hand once. “Thank you for making me a whole damn game instead of just writing me a card like a normal person.”

“I tried that,” you said. “It turned into a game design doc after paragraph three.”

He let out a breath of laughter and leaned just enough to rest his shoulder against yours for a second. Just one second. Just long enough to say I love you without saying anything at all.

And then, he pressed the key.

The screen glowed soft orange, sunset hues melting into lavender pixels.

The apartment was back. But this time, it wasn’t lively or buzzing with banter. It was quiet. Still. Cozy in a different way.

The couch sat in the middle of the screen. Blankets piled high. A mug on the side table. One lamp on, casting golden pixel light across the scene.

Pixel-Spencer entered from the right.

Pixel-You was already there, curled up under a blanket, laptop on your knees, expression tired. A progress bar hovered above your head, labeled:

Burnout Level: 87%

— NO — I’M ALREADY CRYING 😭 — THIS LEVEL IS TOO REAL TOO FAST — WHO PUT THE BURNOUT METER — why is this better emotional writing than most movies

Spencer’s hand paused briefly on the mouse.

You didn’t look at him, you didn’t need to.

He clicked forward.

The screen prompted him to Choose a Support Response:

Offer Hot Drink

Suggest a Break

Sit Beside Her in Silence

Tell Her She's Brilliant

He chose Sit Beside Her in Silence.

His sprite sat down.

No music. Just the ambient loop of soft rain on the windows and the occasional keyboard tap.

Then Pixel-Spencer leaned gently against Pixel-You.

A new prompt appeared:

Unlocked Passive Buff: Comforting Presence Burnout Level -10%

Spencer laughed quietly. “That’s… weirdly accurate.”

You shrugged, heart full. “You always knew when to just sit with me.”

The level continued with small interactions. Spencer had to navigate subtle “burnout care” mechanics:

🫖 Boil water without setting off smoke alarm 🧺 Find her hoodie (that’s really yours) in the laundry and bring it over 🎮 Offer co-op game night without guilt-tripping 🧠 Remind her of her worth, even when she can’t see it

Each successful action brought your burnout meter down by small increments.

Every once in a while, Pixel-You would look over and smile.

And the heart in the top corner?

It pulsed slow and steady, like breath. Like safety.

At the end of the level, the laptop closed. Pixel-You set it aside. Then curled into Pixel-Spencer’s side on the couch.

The screen zoomed in.

A final bit of dialogue scrolled across the screen:

“You didn’t fix me.” “I didn’t need to.”

Sometimes love is just staying. Just sitting. Just being soft when the world is sharp.

Level Complete.

Spencer swallowed.

He didn’t say anything this time.

He just turned slightly and rested his forehead against your shoulder for a long, steady moment.

The chat lit up again, but neither of you looked.

— THIS IS THE REAL BOSS LEVEL — why is this game slowly putting me back together — they’ve been in love for SO LONG oh my god — I never believed in soulmates until now — he better marry her at the end or we riot

The screen shimmered again.

Next Level: Final Quest – The Big Question❓ The Endgame Begins.

Spencer whispered, “Is this…”

You just smiled, heart racing.

“Go see.”

The studio was silent again. No chaos, no offscreen bits, no commentary.

Just a quiet sort of reverence hanging over everything.

Spencer hadn’t pressed the key yet.

He stared at the new title card on screen. He exhaled slowly, fingers resting just above the keyboard.

You could feel the shift in him.

His expression had changed, softened. That boyish smirk he wore like a shield had cracked somewhere between Level 3 and Level 6, and now something much more vulnerable had taken its place.

His hand lowered.

He turned to you.

“…Is this what I think it is?” he asked softly.

Your mouth went dry.

You nodded, barely.

Spencer’s eyes searched your face for a second, not for confirmation. For readiness. For permission to let himself feel what was coming.

You gave it with a whisper.

“Yeah.”

He looked back at the screen.

Then smiled.

And pressed Enter.

The screen faded in.

This time, there was no UI. No heart meter. No objectives.

Just the pixel moon above a quiet rooftop.

It was stylized to look like the roof of your apartment complex, all crooked vents and string lights and a skyline painted in soft purples and deep navy.

Pixel-Spencer stood alone in the middle of the rooftop, looking out over the city.

Footsteps echoed.

Pixel-You entered from the right, nervous and bouncing slightly on your heels.

The music started.

It wasn’t chip-tune anymore.

It was a real recording, the melody you’d been weaving through the game, now arranged for piano and strings. The theme that had played under every level, now in its final form.

You watched Spencer’s jaw tighten slightly.

He knew it.

The sprites turned to face each other.

A prompt appeared on screen:

FINAL CHOICE: PRESS [E] TO KNEEL

Spencer froze.

The chat erupted:

— OH MY GOD — SHE’S GONNA DO IT — SHE BUILT HER OWN PROPOSAL — SPENCER DON’T CRY I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH — PRESS E KING 👑

Spencer reached forward, almost reverent.

He hit E.

Pixel-Spencer dropped to one knee. Pixel-You stepped forward, holding out a small, glowing ring.

A text box opened. No options, no dialogue trees.

Just the line:

Spencer Agnew, will you marry me?

Onscreen the music swelled, rich and full and cinematic.

And just then — as Spencer’s hand lifted to his mouth in real life, as the chat exploded in all caps, as the cameras quietly zoomed in — you stood up beside him.

And pulled the ring box from your hoodie pocket.

You dropped to one knee in front of him, heart pounding.

He turned to you, startled and blinking fast.

“Spence,” you said, your voice barely holding steady, “you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re my favorite story, my best player two, the only person I’d ever let see my unfinished builds.”

He laughed, all choked and overwhelmed.

You opened the box.

Inside: a simple, elegant band engraved with tiny binary code that read forever.

“I’ve loved you through crash bugs and pizza burns and creative burnout and weird edit hours and every version of myself,” you said. “So… I made this. Because there was never any other way I wanted to ask.”

You smiled up at him.

“Will you marry me?”

Spencer let out a sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob, and dropped to his knees with you.

He pulled you into a hug so hard you nearly lost your balance.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Yes. Yes. Of course.”

The chat was losing its mind:

— I’M CRYING ON THE FLOOR — THIS IS THE BEST STREAM OF ALL TIME — THE GAME. THE RING. THE PROPOSAL. — HE SAID YES HE SAID YES HE SAID YES — GOD TIER COUPLE — ROLL CREDITS

The final cutscene played quietly behind you, unnoticed by most:

Pixel-Spencer and Pixel-You stood on the rooftop.

The words faded in:

“You were always the quest.”

And beneath that:

Game Complete. 💍 Thank you for playing.

The stream was technically still live.

But no one was watching the screen anymore. Not even the chat, which had broken into an endless flood of crying emojis, marriage memes, and declarations like “this is why I still believe in love.”

Spencer had long since turned off his headset.

The studio crew had given you both space — stepping back with misty eyes and wide, stunned grins, as if they’d witnessed something sacred.

You were still kneeling, forehead against Spencer’s, both of you laughing breathlessly through the aftershock of what had just happened.

Then you heard it.

The credits music.

Soft. Real. Yours.

You pulled back just enough to look up at the screen.

The final scene had faded into a black background with golden scrolling text in the classic game credit style, but written entirely in your voice.

CREATED WITH LOVE BY: Me FOR: Spencer Agnew SPECIAL THANKS TO: — Your incredible hoodies — Every cup of oat milk coffee — The way you hold me when I crash — Every eye roll you tried to hide when I over-scoped the narrative DEDICATED TO: The boy who saw my mess and called it magic. The man who chose me. Bugs, burnout, soft code and all. TO BE CONTINUED…

Spencer blinked hard.

He reached over and tugged you gently into his lap on the floor, your knees curled sideways, his arms around your waist like he couldn’t quite trust the moment to last unless he held onto it.

You rested your head on his shoulder, heart full and aching in the best way.

“I don’t know how to top this,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to.”

“I mean, I will try,” he added. “There will be at least five bouquets and a surprise musical number at our wedding featuring Chanse and Angela.”

You smiled. “As long as you’re in a cape.”

“Oh, I will be in a cape.”

He kissed your temple. “I can’t believe you made a whole damn game just to ask me to marry you.”

“I’d do it again,” you said, eyes soft. “A hundred times.”

And Spencer, voice quiet but sure, said:

“Then let’s build the sequel.”

The game credits faded out behind you.

The screen blinked once.

And then, in soft gold text:

NEW FILE SAVED Forever Unlocked ❤️

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cloverrwritess · 1 month ago

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“Their eyes locked from across the room”

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cloverrwritess · 1 month ago

Text

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

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cloverrwritess · 1 month ago

Text

Bit Gone Baby || Spencer Agnew

Summary: When you find out you’re pregnant, you enlist the Smosh crew to help pull off the most chaotic—and heartfelt—baby reveal imaginable. Disguised as a sketch for Try Not to Laugh, the moment unfolds with real emotions, unexpected silence, and one very stunned Spencer Agnew holding a baby onesie on set. But the real chaos begins after the cameras stop rolling.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

Tropes: Pregnancy Reveal, Chosen Family, Soft Boyfriend

Warnings: Fluff, Romance, Pregnancies, the use of DILF (once), not proofread

WC: 2.7k

Author's Note: Obligatory pregnancy reveal one shot, clearly I had fun writing this one. I'd like to thank my current hyper-fixation for coming up with so many ideas and actually being able to write them down.

You hadn’t expected the test to be positive.

You also hadn’t expected to take it while still wearing a purple crushed velvet wizard robe and a fake beard clinging to your collarbone with a stubborn patch of spirit gum.

But here you were—nervously standing on the tile floor of the Smosh studio’s main bathroom, staring at a pregnancy test on the counter like it had just threatened your entire understanding of reality.

Your heart thudded in your chest so loudly it nearly drowned out the buzz of the overhead lights.

One line. Wait. Two lines.

Two.

Your knees gave out before the shock did. You sat, hard, on the toilet lid, cape pooling around your ankles like the aftermath of some magical crisis.

It was almost funny. Almost.

You whispered to yourself, "You have got to be kidding me."

But the test didn’t kid. The test didn’t blink or laugh or give you a moment to ease into the idea. The test just sat there. Unbothered. Unmoving. Stark pink lines blaring from the plastic window like it was shouting:

"HEY, SURPRISE! YOU’RE HAVING A BABY!"

You reached up and pulled the fake beard off your neck with a grimace. It left a tacky red spot behind, but that wasn’t your concern anymore.

Your concern was:

You were definitely pregnant.

Spencer was definitely the father.

Spencer was also definitely Spencer.

And Spencer—your sweet, dorky, easily flustered boyfriend who still blushed when you called him cute on-camera—was going to absolutely malfunction.

You weren’t scared of how he’d react. That wasn’t it. He was kind. Loving. All in. Always.

But the boy once teared up over a surprise puppy adoption reel and nearly passed out when you kissed his nose in a behind-the-scenes video.

You were going to break him.

Emotionally. Lovingly. But entirely.

You laughed once. Just one breathless, disbelieving sound. Then looked back at the test.

The wizard robe shifted slightly as you moved, and somehow that made it all more surreal—like this was a dream. Or a bit. One of Damien’s sketch pitches comes to life.

"Pregnant Wizard Stuck in Emotional Limbo in Bathroom—A Smosh Original."

You leaned forward, elbows to knees, and rubbed your face with both hands. Okay. Okay. Deep breaths.

You weren’t alone. You weren’t scared. But you were very, very pregnant.

A soft knock echoed on the door.

"You good in there?" Courtney’s voice called out, muffled.

You blinked. "Uh—Uh-yeah! Just—uh. Beard glue emergency."

A beat.

"You having an existential crisis in the mirror again?"

You paused. "...Define crisis."

"I’ll grab snacks."

"Thank you."

As her footsteps faded, you stared at the test one more time.

It was real.

It was happening.

And now you had to figure out how to tell the love of your life that you’d made a tiny, accidental chaos gremlin together—and how to do it in a way he wouldn’t faint halfway through your sentence.

You smiled softly to yourself as your hands came to rest on your stomach.

"Okay, baby," you whispered. "Let’s go break the news to your dad."

You weren’t expecting to tell them like that.

You’d planned to bring it up casually. Maybe over lunch. Perhaps not while still wearing the wizard robe. You had just finished the sketch for the next bit city episode, heading to the breakroom to formulate a plan and wrap your head around the idea that you were pregnant. But instead, you accidentally dropped the test out of your (Spencer’s) hoodie pocket while reaching for a charger cord in the green room.

And of course, the three worst possible people to witness it—Shayne, Courtney, and Damien—were all right there.

Courtney gasped. Shayne screamed. Damien dropped his leftovers.

You stood frozen, face blank, staring at the plastic test like it had betrayed you for the final time.

"Well," you said flatly, "so much for subtlety."

Cut to twenty minutes later.

You were sitting on the break room couch with a blanket around your shoulders and a snack plate in your lap like someone who’d just survived a reality show elimination round.

Shayne paced. Damien stood dramatically in the doorway like a soap opera aunt, mostly protecting the door and making sure no one else walked in while they interrogated you—questioned really. Courtney sat across from you at the coffee table, expression flickering between mild panic and pure joy.

"So…" Courtney began slowly. "It’s real?"

You nodded.

"Like, ‘bun in the oven’ real or ‘we’re filming a sketch and I didn’t get the memo’ real?"

You tilted your head and deadpanned, "Would I carry a used pregnancy test for a bit, Miller?"

Shayne blinked. "Honestly? With our brand? Could’ve been anyone’s."

You snorted.

"Okay, okay." Courtney scooted closer. "Spencer doesn’t know?"

You shook your head. "Not yet."

Shayne looked like he was trying to physically hold in ten thousand questions. "Are you gonna tell him or just hand him the baby like ‘surprise, it’s got your face’?"

You grinned slowly. "I want to tell him in a sketch."

They all blinked at you like you’d suggested setting the studio on fire for warmth.

"A sketch?" Damien asked, leaning in. "Like… a bit?"

"Not a prank," you clarified. "A soft, dumb, chaotic moment. Something with glitter. Maybe a prop. Something us."

Smosh was the reason you two met, started dating, eventually moved in together, and of course, are now starting a family.

"Something us," Courtney repeated, eyes wide and already misty. "That’s so stupid. That’s so perfect."

You explained the plan. The fake sketch setup:

"Try Not to Laugh – Weird Gift Exchange."

Each cast member brings in a ridiculous item. Spencer goes last. Your gift to him is a tiny, painfully cute baby onesie that says:

"Baby Chosen On Board"

Simple. Elegant. Emotionally devastating.

"His brain’s gonna bluescreen," Shayne whispered.

"He’s gonna fold like a lawn chair," Damien muttered.

Courtney grinned. "We’ll need tissues. Possibly paramedics."

By the end of the conversation, Courtney was doodling "Baby Agnew" logos on a whiteboard, Shayne was Googling how soon babies can wear beanies ("for brand synergy"), and Damien had named the onesie Carl.

"I’m not calling it Carl," you told him.

"He already has a backstory," Damien argued, holding it reverently. "Carl the chaos heir. Born of hoodie strings and sketch concepts."

"Stop naming the baby accessories," Shayne sighed.

Courtney finally clapped her hands. "Okay. We’ve got the plan. We’ve got the emotional ammo. All we need now…"

"…is the baby daddy," Damien finished, deadpan.

You laughed, heart full of warmth and static and the kind of fear that came only with loving someone so much it cracked open parts of you.

You looked at the onesie on the table. Looked at your friends—your family. Their excitement. Their support.

You could do this.

You could tell him.

Because this wasn’t a prank or a stunt. This was you. This was Spencer. This was something real and soft and terrifying and good.

You weren’t just breaking the news. You were inviting him into something beautiful.

You barely slept.

Every time you closed your eyes, you dreamed of onesies catching fire or Spencer passing out in the middle of set or—worst of all—him not reacting at all. Waking up didn’t feel any better. Your stomach was already tight with nausea, but this time it wasn’t the pregnancy.

It was the nerves.

You tried to act normal that morning—dressed casually, did your makeup like any other shoot day, even brought in donuts. (Spencer liked maple bars. You made sure there were three.)

But the second you saw him across the studio, you had left separately (giving an excuse of needing to be in early for a meeting he wasn’t in). His hoodie sleeves pushed up, joking with Damien, a smile full of dorky sunshine—you almost turned and walked out.

What if this changed everything?

"Okay, stop panicking," Courtney whispered in your ear as she appeared beside you, casually shoving a donut in your hand like it was a tranquilizer dart.

"I’m not panicking," you whispered back, teeth clenched.

Courtney gave you a look. "You’re sweating through your jacket."

"Fashion statement."

"Are you gonna barf?"

"Not if I breathe through my mouth."

"Romantic."

You took a slow breath, donut untouched in your hand. Spencer walked past again, nodding at you with that sweet, slightly-too-lingering look that still gave you butterflies.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yep!" you chirped, entirely unconvincing. "Totally chill and un-pregnant."

He paused.

"What?"

"Nothing!" You shoved a bite of donut in your mouth. "I said I’m great."

He gave you a suspicious squint. "You’re acting weird."

"I am weird."

"True," he said, laughing—and then, with the softest smile, "But you’re my weird."

Your stomach did a flip that had nothing to do with pregnancy.

"Love you," you mumbled.

He squeezed your hand. "Love you more."

And suddenly, the nerves turned into something else. Something bigger. Something braver.

You were ready.

The set was almost ready.

Camera angles were being checked. Props laid out. Matt was fixing a loose mic while Damien tried to hide a whoopee cushion in Shayne’s chair (you saw it and pretended not to). Spencer was off in the corner, sipping a kickstart, hoodie strings tucked between his fingers like usual.

Courtney handed you the gift bag. Inside was the carefully folded onesie, tissue paper puffed around it like it wasn’t about to change Spencer Agnew’s entire reality.

"You okay?" she whispered.

You stared at the bag. "I feel like I’m about to jump out of a plane."

"Do you trust the parachute?"

You looked up. Across the room, Spencer noticed you watching and smiled. He held up a peace sign with his fingers and mouthed something like you got this even though he had no idea what this was.

God, you loved him.

"I do," you said softly.

"Then let’s go change his life."

The set looked deceptively normal.

Bright lighting. Folding chairs. A table full of ridiculous "gifts" wrapped in tinfoil and hot glue and whatever leftover craft supplies hadn’t been banned yet. It felt like any other Try Not to Laugh day—except for the gift bag in your lap that was threatening to set your entire body on fire.

Courtney and Shayne had gone first. Their bit involved a literal rubber chicken, a ham costume, and a line reading so dramatic you were pretty sure it summoned a ghost.

Angela cracked first. Tommy was close behind. Spencer was up next.

You sat at the end of the line, quiet, holding your breath as his name was called.

"All right, last one—Spencer, you’re up!" Damien announced.

Spencer stood, hoodie sleeves pushed to his elbows, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Okay, Y/N, what cursed object did you find on the internet this time?"

You handed him the bag. Just smiled. "You’ll see."

He smirked. "If this is a taxidermy raccoon, I’m walking."

You didn’t answer.

He pulled out the tissue paper, muttering, "Fluffy—fluffier—Jesus, how much—"

Then he stopped.

The room went quiet.

In his hands: a baby onesie. Dark gray cotton. Infamous wolf shirt. The words underneath the image in bright block letters:

"Baby Chosen On Board"

He stared.

You saw it all happen at once.

His fingers froze.

His face shifted—brows twitching down, mouth opening just slightly, like he was trying to process an email in a foreign language.

Then:

"Wait…" Shayne coughed into his sleeve. Damien silently clutched Courtney’s arm. Tommy mouthed oh my god.

Spencer looked at the onesie. Then at you. Then back again.

"…Is this—like, a joke?"

You shook your head.

He blinked. "Is it… from a sketch? Like… a future sketch?"

"No, Spencer."

His eyes flicked back to the onesie. His fingers clenched tighter.

"Are you—are we—"

"Yeah," you said softly. "We are."

He made a sound. You weren’t sure if it was a gasp or a laugh or a sob.

And then he sat down.

Just folded like a paper person. Right there, on the studio floor. Cross-legged, holding the onesie like it was a sacred scroll.

The room stayed silent.

"Spence?" you asked gently, kneeling beside him.

He looked up at you, eyes shiny, mouth trembling like he couldn’t find a single word.

"You’re really pregnant?"

You nodded.

"And it’s—?"

"Yours, yes," you said, laughing a little. "I double-checked."

He barked a disbelieving laugh. "Holy shit. Holy shit."

And then he cried.

Real tears. Quiet, stunned, a little ugly. Spencer Agnew, king of bits and dad jokes and hiding behind his hoodie strings, cried into a baby onesie while everyone else tried (and failed) not to cry too.

Courtney was the first to crack audibly. Shayne handed her a tissue. Damien whispered, "This is better than the time Arasha slapped Anthony."

Spencer finally spoke, voice raw, "I didn’t know I could feel this many things in one minute."

You cupped his cheek. "Do you hate me?"

He laughed through the tears. "Hate you? I love you so much I might explode."

He stood and wrapped you in a hug that left you both breathless. Tight. Honest. His whole face was buried in your shoulder.

Then he leaned back, eyes searching yours. "I’m gonna be a dad?"

"You’re gonna be amazing," you whispered.

Somewhere behind you, someone popped a confetti cannon.

Two hours later, Spencer still hadn’t let go of the onesie.

It was folded neatly in his lap, his hand resting on top of it like it might float away if he didn’t keep it anchored. His hoodie was rumpled, his hair a little wild from repeatedly raking his hands through it, and his eyes were still red in that post-emotional-breakdown glow.

You sat curled into his side on the green room couch, legs tangled with his. Neither of you said much.

You didn’t need to.

There was something beautifully quiet about the aftermath. All the chaos had blown through like a tornado made of glitter, love, and Damien’s wildly inappropriate commentary—leaving only the stillness of holy crap, we’re actually doing this.

Spencer was still processing.

You could see it happening. Every few minutes, his brow would furrow like he’d remembered a new detail—cribs, doctor’s appointments, taxes—and then relax again when you squeezed his hand.

Eventually, he mumbled into your shoulder, "Do babies like Baja Blast?"

You choked on your sip of water. "Excuse me?"

"I just—I don’t want to drink one and then the baby turns out… neon. Or carbonated."

You laughed so hard you had to bury your face in his hoodie. "Think it's a little too late for that, but we’ll ask the doctor."

Courtney burst into the room holding a tray of cupcakes.

"Okay!" she announced, voice still suspiciously emotional. "We made you celebration snacks."

Spencer blinked. "...‘We’?"

"Shayne mostly heckled me, but I made it work."

She set the tray down with a flourish. Most of the cupcakes were frosted in baby blue or pale pink. But smack in the center sat a line of them with bright green icing and bold, shaky letters that read: #1 DILF??

Spencer stared at it.

"I’m not… I don’t think I’m ready to be that acronym," he whispered.

"You don’t get to choose," Shayne said solemnly, walking in behind Courtney and stealing a cupcake. "Fatherhood chooses you."

Damien poked his head in next. "So when’s the gender reveal? And can I weaponize the cake?"

"No!" you and Spencer said in unison.

Shayne pulled up a chair. "Okay, real talk. When did you find out?"

You glanced at Spencer, who was still gently cradling the onesie in his lap like a newborn duckling.

You smiled. "About four days ago. Took the test right after we wrapped that wizard sketch."

Courtney gasped. "While you were still in the robe?!"

"Yep."

"Iconic."

"I looked like a deranged Dumbledore when I found out," you said dryly.

Spencer leaned over and kissed your temple. "You’re my favorite wizard."

Damien fake gagged. "Ugh, parental affection is so gross. I’m gonna go weep in the sound booth."

There was laughter. There were more cupcakes. And there was Spencer—quiet, thoughtful, overwhelmed but full of a joy that came in waves so big they left him blinking back tears again and again.

At one point, he held up the onesie and said, "It’s so small. Like… It’s gonna wear this. It’s gonna fit."

And Courtney nodded, misty-eyed again. "That’s the wild part. It’s not just a thing anymore. It’s your thing. Your tiny person."

Spencer looked at you again, and for once, he wasn’t flustered.

He was just soft. And steady. And completely, irrevocably yours.

363 notes · View notes

cloverrwritess · 1 month ago

Text

sweeter than hazelnuts (spencer agnew x reader)

i got this idea from a post by @smoshideasideasideas !!

summary you eat something you’re allergic to on eat it or yeet it and have the strangest reaction to the threat of anaphylaxis that the cast has seen. you talk about it on smosh mouth a week later, talking about how sweet your boyfriend was through it all.

warning talks of anaphylaxis and allergic reactions, swearing

gif cred belongs to @dutchesspotatoes

shayne sighed as he stared at the chocolate cookies in front of him. “this sucks. they both look like cookies.” you giggled nervously.

“worst problem ever,” courtney smiled behind him.

“i’m taking the more cookie-looking cookie,” shayne announced, grabbing the one farther from him. you grabbed the other. “sorry, y/n. cheers?” you both clinked the cookies together with cringes as everyone counted you down.

after taking a bite, shayne almost instantly gagged. you chewed with a furrowed brow as everyone laughed out.

“y/n, what’s going on over there?” garrett chuckled with confusion.

“yeah, what are you going through?” spencer laughed at your tormented expression, causing a few more laughs to erupt.

you looked over at him, still confused. “this is obviously the normal one, but there’s just something i’ve never tasted in here.” courtney snorted. you chuckled at yourself as you swallowed. “i don’t know.”

“this is absolutely disgusting,” shayne said after spitting the cookie into the ‘yeet’ and throwing the rest of it in the bucket, too. “i’m not even gonna let anyone else try it, that’s so horrible!” you all chuckled.

“shayne, that would because those chocolate chip looking things in your cookie is actually chocolate covered ground beef,” garrett announced. “with plenty of garlic and onion powder in the cookie to season.” shayne shook his head as he wiped his tongue with a napkin.

“that’s disgusting,” amanda declared with wide eyes.

“y/n, you just had a normal cookie,” garrett shrugged. “it was a chocolate cookie with chocolate chips, and i threw in some hazelnut to give it a nutella-like flavor.” everyone nodded as you froze.

“that sounds delicious,” angela moaned, amanda nodded in agreement.

“yeah, hindsight is 20/20 here,” shayne sighed, making everyone laugh again.

“y/n, are you okay back there?” emily called out. everyone’s gaze turned to you as you nodded slowly, gaze trained in front of you.

“okay, no one freak out,” you said, wiping your mouth with a napkin. you placed a hand on spencer’s arm, looking at him as you spoke quietly, “my epipen is in my top desk drawer, please go grab it for me.” after a surprised beat, he nodded and instantly ran off.

“what? what’s happening?” amanda said, eyes wide with sudden panic.

“i’m allergic to hazelnuts,” you said plainly, standing from your stool and placing your hands on the table. “so, i’m gonna go meet spencer and i have to go to the hospital after the epipen is administered.” everyone stared at you with dropped jaws and panicked expressions and stances.

“i am so sorry!” garrett gasped. “i had no clue, or i would’ve given a warning!” his hands covered his mouth as he shook his head. “that’s no excuse, i should’ve warned anyway. i’m so sorry.”

“it's alright, you had no idea,” you waved. you looked around at your castmates and directors. “this has been fun—i don’t wanna die on the smosh stage.” shayne laughed out in shock.

“yes! leave! right now!”

you waved before sprinting offstage.

they all stared after you in shock.

“like, what do we-“ courtney took a breath, looking to the producers. “do we keep going? what- what just happened?"

….

a week after the incident, you were worlds better than you were that day. after getting doted on by your loving friends and assuring them that you were alright, things were mostly back to normal in the smoffice.

your allergy was a complete surprise to the entire office, and you knew that. you weren't super active on social medias or super open about your personal life--it took over a year for them to even figure out you were crushing spencer before you two started dating (who always likes to tell people he knew all along, when he really didn't). it wasn't that you were uncomfortable sharing, it was simply that you didn't talk about yourself often. it wasn't a privacy or a shy thing, it was just.. you.

and so at the beginning of the week, amanda and shayne practically begged you to come onto smosh mouth and talk about yourself some more with them, for both the audience and for their sakes. you found you couldn't say no to them.

“y/n, let’s just talk about you for a second,” shayne said. you smiled as amanda clapped and cheered for you. you weren't even ten minutes into the podcast yet. “one of our newer cast members, you’ve been here for two years now..?”

“almost,” you smiled. "time flies when you're having fun they say."

“but tell us some things about you, y/n,” amanda smiled. “the fans have loved you since your first appearance, but you’re super private.” you shrugged. “like don't-even-have-tiktok-private." you giggled at that. "tell us some secrets that the fans don’t know.”

“well, i like long walks on the beach,” you sighed and they laughed. you smiled. “but for real..” you talked briefly about some of your interests and hobbies as shayne and amanda smiled and commentated. “oh, and i’m allergic to hazelnuts.”

“YES,” shayne spoke seriously. “oh my god, did we find that out in the most horrifying way possible.”

“i mean it when i say we were shitting bricks when you left that shoot, y/n,” amanda spoke with wide eyes as you giggled with slight embarrassment.

“let me say, everyone was so incredibly sweet,” you grinned. “like, you all checking in on me and making sure i was okay after the fact was so kind and i appreciated it so much. everyone showed so much care, garrett even brought me new cookies the next day with no hazelnuts.”

“yeah, ian also enacted the no-hazelnuts act of 2025,” amanda nodded, making you both laugh. “the kitchen has a new sign for it!”

you affirmed, “this is true.”

“so for those who don’t know,” shayne began, “the eat or yeet video has definitely aired by the time this will air, but there is a part where y/n and i drew the short straws to eat some cookies.” you nodded. “she ended up getting the normal one and i ate this absolutely disgusting meat cookie-”

“vile,” amanda agreed, shaking her head.

“absolutely,” shayne continued, “but y/n said she was tasting something.. weird?” he looked to you.

“yeah,” you sighed, smiling sheepishly. “i.. still don’t know what hazelnut tastes like, garrett said there was hazelnut in that cookie when he revealed it—all i had was, like, a burning sensation in my mouth at that point.” they laughed out in surprise, shayne offering a ‘wow’.

“i want you all to know, y/n had the calmest reaction to anaphylaxis i’ve ever seen in my life,” amanda declared, eyes still wide. “i don’t know if it made it into the video, i haven’t seen the edit, but after garrett said there was hazelnut she just, very calmly, turned to spencer next to her and told him where to get her epipen.” you laughed, cheeks burning at the memory.

“first, she told all of us not to freak out!” shayne added. “she said, ‘no one freak out!’, and then told us she had to go to the hospital.” you and amanda laughed. “like, i have never been around someone having an allergic reaction, but i expected more panic! more running, more urgency!”

you laughed again, hand covering your face for a moment before speaking, “yeah, that’s not my first time almost going into anaphylaxis. i just knew that if i had panicked, you all were going to panic, and that would’ve made it worse for me.” they nodded. "like, i may not have been able to get to hospital as quickly as i did."

“right.”

“but i want you all to know, spencer was the one who drove me, and he was freaking out the entire way,” you chuckled. “like, i stuck myself with the epipen, we got into his car and he’s, like, shaking.”

“oh, well, yeah!” amanda nodded. “that’s scary! your calm would’ve also freaked me out!” you laughed.

“i remember, i asked him if he was okay,” you smiled. “and he was like, ‘i-i’m okay, are you okay? that was- no, you’re not okay, we need to go.’” they laughed through your impression of spencer’s panic. “i felt so bad roping him into it, he was just the one sitting next to me in the shoot.”

“well, i bet- and we’ll have to cut this,” amanda said, looking to the producers. “i bet he was thankful he was the one who took you. if it had been my husband, or it had been courtney," she waved a hand to shayne, who nodded, "we would've wanted to be there with our partner."

you nodded, “oh, for sure. he would’ve just been pacing on set if he wasn’t pacing in the hospital. but he was so incredibly sweet, he stayed with me and was by my side as soon as i was treated. but he was infinitely more freaked out than i was.”

“but you’ve been through it before,” shayne offered.

“yeah, i have,” you nodded. “i knew how it goes and that i’d be fine as long as i got to the hospital, but spencer had never seen anything like that. he was so worried even after we left the hospital, he even offered to buy me a new epipen for my desk.” amanda ‘aww’ed. “which is sweet! but then i had to break the news that you have to have a prescription for that.” they both laughed. “but the thought was very sweet!”

“yeah, i don’t know if they kept the whole moment in or what, but there’s definitely a change from when you and spencer were there to when we pulled trevor and arasha out of the hallway to finish the video,” shayne chuckled. you laughed.

“i told them i didn’t mind if they kept it in,” you shrugged. you raised a fist. “hazelnut allergy awareness!” they laughed.

“so hazelnuts are spicy, you say? that’s the verdict?” shayne chuckled. you laughed again.

“all i know,” you said, gently dropping a hand to the table, “is that spencer agnew is sweeter than hazelnuts.” everyone ‘aww’ed. “and hotter, too.” they laughed out their surprise.

“okay, well, we do have the cut that.”

…

when you went to your boyfriend’s that night, you were smiling with the memories of talking about your experience on eat it or yeet it. though it had been scary, and you had been melting down on the inside, the care and love shown for you by your friends during and after the fact was sweet enough for you to almost forget the threatening aspect of it.

spencer greeted you with a kiss when he answered the door. “how was smosh mouth?” he asked as you kicked off your shoes. instead of answering, you just leaned in and pressed a longer, deeper kiss to his lips. he placed his hands on your waist before you pulled away. “wow. that good?”

you laughed. “we talked about my reaction on eat it or yeet it last week.” you shrugged as he gave you a half-grimace. “just got to talk about how great you were through it.”

“really?” he scoffed playfully, raising an eyebrow. “me freaking out worse than you were the entire time was great?” you giggled, placing a hand on his cheek.

“your care for me was wonderful,” you assured with a smile. “you were freaking out, but it was because you wanted to help and you wanted me to be okay. that was incredibly sweet, dear.”

“well, yeah,” he shrugged, cheeks going red at your sweet gushing. “who else is gonna bring me kickstarts and lose every board game?” you whacked his chest and pulled away from him before he could tighten his grasp. “i was kidding! joking! i meant, who else is gonna love me unconditionally and be so beautiful every day and tolerate me!”

“no! the moment’s over!”

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cloverrwritess · 1 month ago

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PHENOMENAL play by chanse mccrary

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cloverrwritess · 1 month ago

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secretly married

pairings: spencer agnew x fem!reader

synopsis: you and spencer eloped secretly and after months of keeping it a secret angela found certain pictures in your camera roll

warnings: just cute fluff!!

a/n: i have been wanting to write about spencer for awhile now and finally got around to it! taking a small break from tlou but will be trying to get some more out!

it had been 6 months since you and spencer had eloped and not told anyone, you both wanted to keep it a secret for the sake of fans and your own sanity. you guys had done good, making sure to keep it on the down low, you wore a bunch of rings everyday so you basically got away with wearing your wedding ring at work. everyone knew you two were together to begin with but you guys had never told anyone plans of marriage so you knew it would cause chaos.

spencer asked you to marry him on a random night, you two would take regular nightly walks just before dinner and this night was a little different. spencer had bought this ring for you, he carried it with him for just the right moment. that moment was now, sitting on a bench watching the sunset, hand in hand.

“i love our walks i really do.” you spoke up breaking the silence.

“i do too.” you both nodded at each other and continued to look around at your sightings. he moved to his left and felt that small box in his pocket and realized now is the most perfect time. you two were alone no one in sight, the sunset staring back at you while the birds chirped loudly around you. it was the perfect moment, so he quietly slipped his hand into his pocket to grab the small box and turned more towards you. he took your other hand into his and started his small speech.

“we have been together for over five years now, and its been the most amazing five years of my life. i wanted to tell you how much you’ve meant to me and how much i want to be with you until we’re old and gray.”

“where is this coming from?” you giggled at him as he continued on.

“i just love you so much and i wanted to let you know.” he paused for a moment and pulled out the ring box opening it to reveal a beautiful ring. you gasped and felt yourself tearing up as he continued with the phrase.

“will you marry me?” your hands were on your mouth shocked to see the sight in front of you. tears now fully falling down your face as you shook your head yes.

“yes yes oh my god spence!” he smiled at you all his worries and anxiety washing away, he placed the ring on your finger and let you inspect it.

“how’d you know this was the kind of ring i wanted?” amazed at his choice.

“its not like it was hard to find out, you have a pinterest board full of it.” you laughed at his joke and sighed looking back and forth from the ring and then to him. you pulled him into a soft kiss, basically molding together. pulling away you kept your head on his with your noses touching slightly.

“i love you so much.”

“and i love you even more.” he replied and shared another kiss with you.

after the sweet proposal you both decided you wanted something to yourselves before having something with everyone else. you both decided to do a cheesy elopement in vegas, renting a nice car, staying on the strip and going to one of the silly chapels with the elvis impersonator. it was just a week in vegas and of course you had to think of a way to both get out of work without it being weird. so you told them a lie and said your family wanted to invite you over for a week vacation, everyone ended up believing it and it seemed to work out in the moment.

the week had been absolutely amazing, spencer got you two a nice suit with one of those big heart tubs, you rented a nice car, and even had the cheesy elvis wedding. it was perfect really, the week was spent in the pool, gambling, drinking, anything you can think of in vegas you guys did it.

the wedding itself was just in the small chapel, elvis officiated it and you guys had a blast. having the wedding be just you two was probably the best decision you could have ever made. you had a nice dinner right after and then went back to the hotel, took a nice long bath together and watched some tv to wind down. you two cuddled the night away and woke up as husband and wife, it was a magical feeling really.

your legs are tangled together and spencer’s hand is wrapped around your torso almost as if he didn’t want to let go. the curtains had a small opening causing the sun to peak through the window, opening your eyes you adjust to the small peak of light and stretch your body out. you look over and spencer had his mouth open and hair in his face. you giggled at his sleeping appearance and moved the curls from his face. he moved slightly as you rubbed the side of his face with your thumb, opening his eyes he saw you smiling up at him.

“good morning my wife.”

“good morning my husband.” you giggled at his silly tone. you both laid there soaking up the honeymoon phase of it all.

coming back home was no issue, no one questioned the ring and went about their work days. that was until you and angela were sitting together at lunch and angela wanted to see if you had a picture you took of her from a bit ago and wanted to send it to herself. not realizing the shit ton of pictures you took from your elopement you gave your phone to angela to let her look through it.

as she is scrolling you hear her yell, “what the fuck!” thinking something was wrong you immediately went into action and asked if she was okay.

“am i okay? are you kidding me?”

“wha-what what’s happening…” her face turned into an angry frown as she turned the phone to you and showed you the pictures from the chapel.

“what the fuck is this.”

“okay i can explain-“

“spencer!!” you slumped down into your seat as you see your husband walk over from across the room.

“hey what’s-“ she shoves the phone in his face and his eyes go wide.

“ang look-“

“why on earth did you not tell anyone let alone me your BEST FRIEND.” you grabbed her hand and sat her back down.

“yes were married, yes we eloped. we wanted to give it some time before we told everyone…were also trying to plan some dinner parties so we could tell everyone but everyone’s schedules hasn’t been able to line up someone’s always doing something.” she sat for a second before responding.

“…did elvis officiate the wedding.”

“he did…” she threw her head back and groaned.

“i can’t believe i missed that.” she looked back at you and smiled, holding her arms out to pull you in for a hug.

“i am so happy for you guys i really am. im sorry for revealing your secret-“

“oh shush it’s okay, it was bound to happen.”

“wait where’s the ring!” you held up your hand and showed her the ring you’ve been wearing for months now.

“you’ve been wearing it this whole time?! i just thought you’d gotten a cool new ring.” you shook your head and she pulled you in for another hug.

“i hope you know that i am so glad to be the first one in the office to know. when are you guys going to tell everyone else?” you and spencer looked at each other and decided now might be the best time.

“actually now might be the best time…hey ang could you check to see if they’ll be done filming soon.?” she nodded quickly and ran over to the game set. you and spencer decided to take an old projector and set that up so you could show some of the pictures, placing seats in front of the blank wall for everyone to see.

angela came back and told you they would be done in 5, perfect! you guys got everything ready and angela got everyone gathered in the seats.

“im sure you all are wondering why you’re here…and why we have this projector-“ you and spencer looked at each other and you gave him the okay to continue.

“we have a very special announcement…” he said and let you pull up the wedding pictures, it was like time was stopped for a bit. you pulled up the picture and the room erupted in yelling and cheers. courtney was the first one to come up to you and gave you a big hug.

“oh my gosh! im so happy for you two!” you smiled at them and all the other girls came over and congratulated you. looking over at spencer you see shayne, trevor and tommy passing money around.

“what are you three up to?” they all looked up at you and laughed.

“we made a bet, and were giving shayne his money..”

“what was the bet?”

“the day you both asked for time off i made a joke before shooting with trevor and tommy that you guys were going to get married and just using your family as a cover up. so tommy said lets make a bet and both trevor and tommy said it was not likely but i kept to my word and i was right!”

“i can’t believe you bet on us!” you doubled down in laughter and smacked your hand on shayne’s shoulder. everyone went back to talking and asking you many questions.

“did elvis officiate the wedding?”

“can i see more photos?”

“what hotel did you guys stay at?”

“where did you get your dress?”

“let me see the ring!” all kinds of questions being thrown your way, but you couldn’t have asked for it any other way. the love emitting from your friends was the best thing you could have ever asked for, it truly felt amazing. you made your way back to spencer and his arm snaked around your back and kissed the side of your head.

“i love you.” smiling up at him, he responded back.

“i love you…more than you even know.”

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taglist: @haebragi @queercrisis101

a/n: i hope you guys like this!! im starting some more spencer stuff so be on the lookout !! taglist and requests are open!!

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