#two tiered coffee table

[alexandrastafford]

Open in Dallas An example of a formal, open-concept, mid-sized cottage Design for a living room in terra cotta tile and orange flooring with white walls, no fireplace, and a television stand

[psycholydia]

Traditional Family Room Large elegant open concept dark wood floor and brown floor family room photo with a bar, beige walls, no fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[exo-plushie]

Open Family Room Inspiration for a large timeless open concept light wood floor and brown floor family room remodel with gray walls, a standard fireplace, a tile fireplace and no tv

[benconradart]

Traditional Family Room Example of a large classic open concept dark wood floor and brown floor family room design with a bar, beige walls, no fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[fyeahhyolyn]

Living Room Open

Mid-sized, country-style, open-concept living room Idea for a living room with terra-cotta tile and an orange floor, white walls, no fireplace, and a tv stand.

[nicohayes]

Open in Dallas An example of a formal, open-concept, mid-sized cottage Design for a living room in terra cotta tile and orange flooring with white walls, no fireplace, and a television stand

[charlierises]

Transitional Family Room in Edmonton Example of a large transitional open concept medium tone wood floor and brown floor family room design with a bar, gray walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a wall-mounted tv

[nomaishuttle]

making my sillay little apartment checklist

[celebritieswithno-teeth]

Contemporary Family Room Design ideas for a mid-sized, enclosed, contemporary family room with white walls, no fireplace, and a wall-mounted TV. It will also have a light wood floor and a brown floor.

[justinrodgers]

Contemporary Family Room in Miami

Design ideas for a mid-sized, enclosed, contemporary family room with white walls, no fireplace, and a wall-mounted TV. It will also have a light wood floor and a brown floor.

[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (2) | Joe Burrow

Angst/Fluff

Summary: Joe doesn’t have the best reaction to your news, and it causes some tension between the two of you.

••••••

You stared at Joe in confusion as he laughed.

“Good one, Y/N” he says, still laughing. “But if you’re going to play a prank on me, at least come up with a better joke” he adds as he calms down. “Joe, I’m not joking” you tell him quietly. “The acting was seriously top tier. How have you never shown that to me before? I mean the tears looked so real-“

“Joe I’m not kidding. I’m not trying to play a prank on you” you cut him off. “I’ve been nauseous all week, my boobs are incredibly sore, and I missed my period over a week ago” you explain, and he lets out a sigh. “There’s no possible way you could be pregnant. You’re on birth control. You have that thing in your arm” he reminds you, smiling again. “I think you’re being paranoid” he says causing you to scoff.

“Joe, this is serious-“

“You’re not pregnant. You sound crazy” he says pulling back from you. “Have I been working you too hard? Maybe it’s stress. Take the rest of the day off-“

“That doesn’t explain the positive pregnancy test on my bathroom counter” you argue starting to get aggravated. “I’ve been ignoring it for weeks. Hoping maybe I was a little bit crazy. But we weren’t exactly the most careful-“

“So you’re turning this around on me?” Joe asks, his jaw clenched. “No, I’m not-“

“That’s how it sounds. You were irresponsible and now you’re paying the price for it and taking it out on me” he spits with his eyes full of anger. “Last time I checked it takes two people for something like this to happen. I didn’t have sex with myself” you retort and he scoffs. “How could you let this happen? Do you know how much shit this is going to cause? I don’t need this right now. I have to go back to practice, and to be honest I’m not sure I even want you here right now. You’re dismissed for the day” Joe walked out of the office leaving you stunned.

You knew he might not have the best reaction but you didn’t think it would be like this. Joe has never spoken to you that way, even when he was at his worst. With tears in your eyes, you gathered your bag and slowly began to make your way toward the parking lot.

You had a lot of things running through your head, but one rash thought lingered and it made you sick to your stomach. It was going to be a long night.

•••

Later that night, you’re sitting on your couch with your laptop open in your lap. You decided to throw yourself into work, and Joe had a foundation event coming up that Robin asked you to help organize. Even mad at him you couldn’t let this go undone. His foundation was one of the most important things to him, and you kept telling yourself you were more so doing this for his parents. You’re about halfway through editing the announcement picture that would eventually be posted to the foundations instagram, when you heard a knock at your door.

Furrowing your brows, and setting your laptop on the glass coffee table, you walked over to the door and looked through the peep-hole. Your heart lurched at the sight of him. You open the door, and the two of you stare at each other for about a minute.

“You’re not here to throw me down the stairs, are you?” You ask, half joking.

Joe rolls his eyes, “can I come in?”

You move to the side and let him into your home. He kicks his shoes off, knowing you don’t like shoes on your light colored carpet. “What’s up? Why’d you stop by?” You ask, a sigh escaping your lips. You know exactly why he’s here, but you wanted to see what he had to say for himself. “I went home today after practice and had some time to think. The way I treated you was wrong and just absolutely disgusting” he says, stepping toward you, and you take a step back.

“I deserve that.” He says running his hand through his hair. “I never should have blamed you for this. This is just as much my fault, if not more. You did your part being safe, I’m the one that decided not to use condoms. That’s on me. I want you to know how sorry I am about today,” Joe says. You guys never breaking eye contact.

“You’re probably terrified, and I didn’t make it any easier-“

“That’s for sure.” You mutter. “Joe, I never meant for this to happen. And I’ve done a lot of thinking myself. I’m going to keep this baby. I’m not asking you for any help, I’m not asking you for any money. I’m fully prepared to do this by myself. I’ve started looking for another job-“

“Hang on a second-“

“You can sign your rights away. We don’t even have to tell anyone that the baby is yours. You’ll have no ties to it” you ramble, and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I want.” He states, his voice firm. “This is my kid, Y/N. Not just something I can pretend doesn’t exist. I want to do this with you, if you’ll let me” he pleads, reaching out to grab your hand.

“You really hurt me today, Joe.” You told him. “You made me feel like I ruined your life”

“I know, and I regret everything I said to you. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am. You didn’t ruin my life. Neither one of us could have anticipated this happening” he assures you. “I am so so sorry” he says, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m still very upset with you. It’s going to take some time to fully forgive you” you tell him, and he frowns, but he understands.

“I have a doctors appointment in the morning, if you’d like to come” you offer. “It’s just to confirm everything and get a due date and all that fun stuff”

“I’ll drive and buy you breakfast” he says, looking down at you. “Speaking of food, I’m starving” you groan, and he lets out a laugh. “Alright, I guess I’ll feed you” he jokes, making his way to your kitchen. “Ooh, can you make that pasta that I like? I’m pretty sure I have all of the ingredients” you ask with pleading eyes.

“Yes, I can make you the pasta. Pick a movie, and shut that laptop. Work is over for the day” he orders.

“Sir, yes, sir”

��••

The Next Day

“Well congratulations, Y/N. You are indeed pregnant,” the doctor says, entering the room after your test results finally come back. “Both the urine and blood test came back positive. Judging by the numbers on your results it’s looking like you’re around 8 or 9 weeks pregnant, that’s around 2 months and a week.. Which would make your due date sometime in February, but we can’t be sure until we do an ultrasound” the doctor explains.

“The next course of action is going to be removing your nexplanon and doing an ultrasound” she explains.

You look over at Joe, who’s listening intently. He hasn’t said much since the two of you got here, but you’re giving him time. He wants to be involved, but he processes things a different way. You respect that.

“We can schedule the ultrasound for about a week from now. I don’t have any available ultrasound techs today. So I have a list of appointments, and you can choose what works best for you and your schedule. All of them are on Monday. There’s a 9am, 10am, 12pm, 3pm, and 4pm-“

“We can do Monday at 9am” Joe says, and you look over at him. “You have practice on Monday” you remind him. He shrugs. “We only watch film for the first two hours on Monday, you know that. They’ll be fine without me for an hour” he assures you. “We’ll do Monday at 9am” you tell the doctor, knowing Joe wasn’t going to let up.

“Perfect. Stop at the front desk to check out on your way back out. See you Monday. Congratulations, again” she smiles as she leaves the room. You look back over at Joe. “You okay?” You ask, and he nods. “I’m good. Now let’s go get you guys some breakfast,” he says, and a warm feeling spreads through your chest. You slip your hand in his and he leads you out of the room.

•••

“What can I get you guys to drink?”

“I’ll take a coffee with extra cream and sugar” you say, and Joe protests. “You can’t have coffee. Caffeine isn’t good for the baby” he says, and you shoot him a glare that’s strong enough to cut. The waitress looks between the two of you hesitantly. . “I can have a little bit of caffeine,” you argue, and look back at waitress. “Ignore him. I’ll have a coffee” you say with a smile. It’s Joe’s turn to roll his eyes, as he orders a water for himself.

Once the waitress walks away, you kick Joe’s shin under the table. “You’re not going to be one of those overprotective fathers who dictates what I eat, drink, and do. I’m an adult. I can handle myself”

He lets out a sigh, knowing not to argue because your hormones are high right now. “Please do your research before acting like a control freak. I can have up to 200 grams of caffeine a day,” you tell him, and he sighs. “I just want to keep the two of you safe,” he admits, and you start to feel bad for going off on him.

“I appreciate that, Joey, but we’re good. We can handle a little bit of caffeine” you assure him, a slight smile on your face. The waitress returns with your drinks, and the proceeds to ask if you’re ready to order your food. “Can I have two over medium eggs, with hash browns, and toast?” The waitress writes down your order, Joe looks confused, but orders his blueberry pancakes and the waitress goes to put the order in.

“You hate eggs,” Joe comments.

“The baby wants them.”

Joe laughs, tossing his head back. “What the baby wants, the baby gets”

~~~~~~~

Ahhh our guys won yesterday!! I’m so proud of them :)

[acamouflage]

Open Living Room Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary formal and open concept light wood floor living room remodel with white walls, a ribbon fireplace, a stone fireplace and a media wall

[sobbingscripter]

DAY 2: Two Turtle Doves

☃️A Holly Jolly Wayne Gala☃️

Tags: [aged up!][semi-public][mommy kink][subby Tim Drake][m4f][handjob][fem!reader][whiny][twink][he's 19][mdni?]

❄️☃️❄️

Tinsel strung along each wall of the ridiculously lavish venue.

But that's exactly what to expect from a Wayne gala. Extravagance and luxurious.

A plethora of waiters carry different trays, with festive treats and holiday-themed cocktails. You remain near the bar, nursing a Shirley Santa, which is just a regular, rosy Shirley Temple, with salt around the rim to represent the fluff on Santa Clause's hat.

The live band continues to play music, low and festive that seems to drown out in the presence of the chatter between social elites, various red dresses, tailored suits and expensive scents seem to blend together.

At least when compared to that smell of strong, Moroccan coffee that seems to cling to one of Bruce Wayne's wards, particularly the twink one.

Inky hair in an undercut, unsually shaky hands and the ghosts of eyebags below cerulean pools. An almost girlishly pretty face, as he grabs what looks like his third mug of coffee for the evening.

"You know, coffee's not good for a growing boy."

Tim glances at you, maybe an inch or two taller, not by much, and from this distance, you can see glimpses of his lean physique.

Top. Tier. Twink.

"I'm 19." Tim speaks softly, his voice a refreshing, boyish timbre in the cacophony of nasally, and the occasional faux British accent tossed in to imitate class and decorum.

"Men stop growing at like... 21." You chide him gently, before taking the mug from his hand and setting it down beside him, on the table he's leaning against.

He simply stares up at you, big blue eyes locked on your face.

He's not entirely unfamiliar to you, especially since he has a penchant of staring at you whenever he's in the same room as you. Which, seeing as you're interning at Wayne Enterprises, is surprisingly a lot.

In the cafeteria, in the elevator. Almost everywhere. Except the women's bathroom.

Which... now, is kind of crossed out.

"Oh.... shit, please...please... please.... mommy.."

Tim's whines are muffled by your palm, your other hand wrapped around his pretty cock, leaky pink tip occasionally peeking out from your fisted hand with each tentative stroke you give him.

His eyes are half-lidded, hands fisting the fabric of your dress as you press and feather numerous kisses to the curve of his neck, the collar of his shirt untidy and unbuttoned.

"Faster...—please, go faster."

Tim begs, lashes fluttering as your palm glides against the sensitive skin of his shaft, his muscular hips rocking into your hand in a poor attempt to gain more friction, more feeling.

Desperate for that release, that pace you've been denying him.

"You're asking me to go faster but your knees are buckling." You tease him, teeth nipping at his pierced lobe before you pull away, looking down at his slumped form, back pressed against the door of the bathroom stall.

"So pretty." You croon quietly, before capturing his lips in a deep, somewhat sloppy kiss which he immediately returns. Messy, uncoordinated and his hands grasp at your waist,

One of Tim's hands shakily grip the back of your thigh, raising your leg to bracket his hip and he ruts against your hand, eyes fluttered shut as he imagines himself fucking you, rather than your hand.

Your dress rides up, a generous sliver of thigh and a glimpse of your panties visible, a sight that has him moaning into the kiss.

God, he's so pretty.

Fluttering lashes, tears brimming in his pretty blue eyes, a messy undercut and biting his bottm lip each time you pull away to kiss along his jaw.

"Please..." Tim whines softly, the crown of his head falling back against the stall door and he feels his pretty cock twitch needily, beads of precum running down his shaft and dropping down from his tightly drawn balls. "Oh... fuck.."

Your hand clamps tighter over his mouth when the bathroom door opens, and two sets of heels collide with the marble tiles and Tim stares at you, wide-eyed and nervous.

And you can't help it, as your fist slowly continues to move, pumping him and watching the way his face gets warmer and his eyes roll back in his head.

A muffled whimper slips out from behind your hand, stifled by the sound of a tap being opened and Tim jets onto the soft, cottony fabric of your panties, hot cum soaking through the already sodden material and he whines.

"That's it, baby..." You croon sweetly, pressing soft kisses to the side of his face and his neck, his tie a limp ghost of his decency, his knees buckling and his body limp, and lax against the door.

You can feel the way your cum drips from your inner thighs, and Tim's eyes lower to the sight, running his pink tongue along his bottom lip.

"You...— can I clean you up..?" He breathes out. "Please mommy?"

His voice is hoarse, and before you can even answer, he drops to his knees, his hands bracketing your thighs and his nose brushes against your clothed clit, before his tongue darts tentatively.

Licking and smearing his tongue in the cum that coats your panties, dragging his tongue along your soaked folds, cleaning it up and sucking on your folds through the panties.

With each pass of his tongue, dragging up your plush thighs, a shaky breath leaves him.

"You taste so good..." Looking up at you through bleary eyes, his soft cock still twitching, dribbles of cum staining his already inky suit pants and you card your fingers through his silky strands.

And he shudders at the sensation, eyes nearly rolling back in his head when he feels your thigh rest on one of his lean shoulders, watching with wide eyes as you slowly peel your panties to the side, slippery folds just in front of him.

And God, does it feel like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey.

"I think you missed a spot, honey."

[p0orbaby]

Could you do a blurb for alexia and reader and their daughters first bday? so fluffy it rottens my teeth

-

You’re standing in the kitchen, staring at the cake. It’s a two-tier monstrosity with pink icing and miniature elephants, because apparently, your daughter loves elephants. This is an assumption since she’s only one and her favourite activity seems to be slamming her tiny fists against the table and screaming at the Peppa Pig theme song. You glance over at Alexia, who’s meticulously arranging balloons into some sort of Pinterest-inspired arch. It’s tragic, really, because the balloons are deflating faster than her patience.

“You know she won’t remember any of this, right?” you say, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching her struggle with a particularly rebellious balloon.

Alexia doesn’t look up. “It’s not for her,” she mutters, teeth gritted, “it’s for us. And the photos. For the grandparents. You know”

You do know. The grandparents, who’ll scrutinise every detail, subtly implying that the cake should’ve been homemade and the balloons should’ve been organic or something. You glance at the clock. Two hours until the guests arrive. Two hours until you’re knee-deep in small talk with people you barely tolerate, discussing the milestones of babies that are all the same. They roll over, they laugh, they scream, and then they eat something they shouldn’t.

Speaking of, the baby—your baby—is currently sitting in her high chair, aggressively smearing mashed banana across her face like it’s avant-garde war paint. You sigh. At least she’s quiet for once. There’s a moment of eerie calm, like you’re in the eye of a storm. It won’t last. You sip your coffee, which is lukewarm and bitter, and stare at the pile of gifts in the corner of the room.

“Why do people insist on wrapping things for a one-year-old?” you ask, more to yourself than Alexia. “She’s going to eat the paper. And cry. In that order”

Alexia finally gives up on the balloon arch. “You’re right,” she says, walking over and inspecting the cake like it might explode. “But they want to feel like they contributed something. Everyone’s desperate to be relevant in a baby’s life”

You nod, because that’s exactly it. The party isn’t for the baby, or for you, or even Alexia. It’s for all these people who want to feel like they’ve done something. Like attending a one-year-old’s birthday party is some kind of moral achievement. A gold star for being a functional human.

The doorbell rings, far too early for guests, which means it’s probably your neighbour, Carol, who always shows up with unsolicited advice on baby care, as though she invented parenting. You open the door, and sure enough, it’s Carol, holding a gift bag that screams I bought this on sale at El Corte Inglés.

“Thought I’d come early to help,” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Her eyes scan the room, resting on the cake. “Oh, you didn’t make it yourself?”

“Bought it,” you say, deadpan. “From the shop. With money”

Carol doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even blink. “Ah, well, the important thing is she’ll enjoy it. At this age, it’s all about the memories”

You glance at your daughter, now vigorously attempting to fling the banana off her high chair.

“She won’t remember this,” you say, but Carol’s already unpacking her baby advice, Alexia’s gone back to fighting with the balloons, and you’re suddenly wondering why you didn’t just fake an illness and cancel the entire thing.

“Happy birthday,” you mutter, to no one in particular.

[hotluncheddie]

‘I just don’t get it.’ Steve says, slamming the apartment door, pouting. 

He throws his keys down on the counter in a huff. Untucking his polo from his skin tight ‘date jeans’ and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the little indents they’re leaving on his belly. 

Eddie and Robin are splayed out on the couch, air hazy with smoke and a half eaten pizza on the coffee table. ‘What babe?’ Robin asks, lifting her arms up and making grabby hands at Steve. 

He slumps over and falls into her side, snuggling into her shoulder and taking a puff form the joint she holds to his lips. ‘I though coming out as bi would mean I’d go on nice dates, like I used to take girls on. But people would take me on them instead, guys or girls.’ He explains, taking another hit. 

‘Ah. Brian wasn’t the one?’ Robin asks. Putting the joint back in her mouth and tucking Steve closer under her arm. 

‘No.’ Steve pouts. ‘He was lame and he got all weird when I ordered pie. Which, like, we met at the bar, he knows what I look like, it’s not surprising that I ordered pie. Then he started yapping about his jogging routine.’ Steve rolls his eyes, undoing the fly of his jeans so he can kick them off and get comfy on the couch, like he always does, ‘date jeans’ are way too constricting for high pizza time. ‘Like one, bold of him to assume I don’t jog when I do, like, when I feel like it. And two, the pie was really good! I even offered him a bite and he didn’t even accept it! Rude!’ 

‘So rude.’ Robin pets at Steve’s head. 

Eddie unsticks himself from the sofa to get another slice of pizza and pass one over to Steve in consolidation. Nodding along to what Steve is saying as it passes through the soup of his brain. 

‘Like I know people like to sleep around and that’s fun and all but why are they so bad at dating?’ He pulls another deep drag of the joint Robin holds for him, chewing a bite of pizza as smoke billows out between his lips. ‘Why does no one want a cute fat boyfriend with great hair? Why do they just see me as a piece of ass?’ He whines, the weed hitting him now. 

‘Because your ass is great babe.’ Robin says, stealing a chunk of his crust. ‘Top tier ass.’ 

He looks up at her with big eyes ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah.’ She smiles at him, pinching his cheek 

‘I want a cute fat boyfriend.’ Eddie sighs, from the other end of the couch. eyes glazed over staring at the muted tv screen, his slice of pizza held untouched in his hand. ‘I’d take him out on nice dates, brush his hair and help him try on pretty clothes. I could kiss his chubby cheeks and cuddle him and call him sweet names..’ He sighs again, finally taking a bite. 

‘You know Eddie, Stevie here on the couch is single.’ Robin says, getting up to go to the kitchen. Leaving the joint in Steve’s mouth. 

Eddie looks at her go. Blinks hard a couple times and looks at Steve. Sprawled out on the couch cushions, belly peaking out of his shirt. His lovely roommate Steve. Cute and fat and silly hot. ‘Maybe I even want to hold his hand as we take a little walk. Maybe I want to take care of him and spoil him and make him feel like the world spins around him. He could get fatter, if he wanted, because i lo-like him so much.' Eddie continues. Confesses. Eyes wide and heart racing.  

Steve’s cheeks are pink, eyes glassy and pretty. ‘Me?’ Steve points at himself, joint between his long fingers, looking at Eddie, looking all over his face. 

‘Yeah.’ he breaths. Matching the dopey smile that spreads over Steve’s face, besotted and beaming. 

-

me and @scoops-aboy86 were talking about this post. so now you all have to read the silliness too xoxo

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

[toiletclown]

breathless. (part six. finale.)

spencer agnew x gn!reader

more fluff :,)

summary: six months after you decide to make it official, you both decide now is the time to start dropping hints.

a/n: this one was going to be part six and seven but i couldn't bare to drag it out much longer!! she's done! :D [ more serious a/n at the end ]

word count: 3187

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Six months later

It had been six months of bliss, and you were happy to report to anyone who asked that there was no end in sight. You and Spencer weren’t going to have a ‘honeymoon phase’, because you were so blatantly in love with each other it just wasn’t going to end. There was no getting complacent, no getting bored. You loved it. 

However, you both agreed that it was time to start being little shits on camera and on social media. Ian and Anthony didn’t care, because realistically what you did on social media was never a big deal to them. You were both freelancing anyway, technically speaking. On camera, they just asked that you didn’t rile the fans up too, too much. 

Amanda was on vacation, and Shayne asked if you both wanted to be the special guests on an upcoming Smosh Mouth while she was out. This was the perfect start to your plan.

“Hello, I’m Shayne and welcome back to Smosh Mouth. Today I have two of the most troublesome Smosh members with me, since Amanda is still on vacation. How are you doing today, guys?” Shayne introduced the both of you.

“Troublesome? I don’t know about all that, Shayne. I’m doing good, though! How are you, Shayne?” You started.

“Yeah –” Spencer began, but you cut him off.

“No, I didn’t ask you, I asked Shayne. You can wait your turn, Spence.” Your feet were touching under the table, a silent game of footsie like you were in middle school again. And if it was making your heart and stomach do flips so loudly you thought it would catch on the mic, that’s for you to know and the fans to eventually find out. 

“Damn, Y/N,” Shayne said between laughs. Spencer was playing along with your bit and waiting his turn, so Shayne continued on. “I’m doing pretty good today, Y/N. I must say, you’ve trained Spencer so well. He never listens when we tell him to shut up.”

“Hey!” Spencer erupted into laughter, so of course you followed.

“He’s a good boy, isn’t he?” You said, ruffling his hair and making it arguably sexier.

“Don’t.” He choked out, but he was still playing footsie with you. You still knew you were getting in trouble for that one later.

“Okay, so, how are you, Spinner?” You asked, head cocked to the side.

He was blushing beautifully, and you really, really hoped that was picking up on camera. You loved making him blush, but seeing it on camera always made it even better. You might even have a few screen recordings in your hidden folder of times you made him blush on set. But he doesn’t need to know that. (He has a similar folder, but not even hidden. You’ve seen it several times. It has over 100 clips in it.)

“Well, I’m –” You cut him off again.

“Oh, Shayne, you said you wanted to do album tier lists today, right?”

“Y/N!” Spencer whined, not entirely on purpose.

“Yeah?”

“Can I talk please?” He asked, left hand reaching for your right under the table, his way of silently asking you to pull back.

“Sure, Spin. Go off, king, speak your truth.” You smiled widely at him, knowing what he was going to say.

He rolled his eyes at you, lovingly, and let your hand go so he could gesture while he spoke. “Anyway! I’m doing good today too, Shayne. I got some pretty sick news this weekend.”

You played up your surprise for the camera. Eyes wide, you asked, “Oh?” 

Shayne also knew, because of course he did, but you let him ask anyway, “Yeah? What’s up, man?”

“I finally found a bigger apartment and I’ll be moving in in about a month,” Spencer started, “It’s closer to the office and right around the corner from one of my favorite coffee shops. I’m pretty stoked, honestly.”

That was your favorite coffee shop first, but now he loved it just as much as you did. Mainly because you took him there on one of your first dates, and now he insisted on getting coffee there at least once a week.

In his defense, their lattes were incredible. And their cinnamon buns.

“Oh, sick, dude! More room for your cats, too.” Shayne knew that you were also moving in, hence the ‘bigger apartment’, but you and Spencer both agreed that should be kept under wraps for now. You were giving the fans little crumbs of the gigantic sourdough loaf that was your love.

“Yeah, they’re more excited than I am! Oh, ouch,” Spencer yelped at the end, and forced himself to cover up the fact that you had just playfully kicked his shin. Little shit, I didn’t even kick him that hard.

“Sorry, I kicked the table by accident, which is genuinely the first time that has ever happened.”

Shayne was doing his best to hide his giggles, but he was failing massively. “How many times have you sat at this table, Spencer? That’s crazy, I have never done that.”

You were so thankful Shayne loves to ‘yes, and’ shit because he was making this so much easier. And funnier.

Spencer tried to glare at him, but he was laughing too, so he looked entirely unserious. “I do not know how I managed to do that, to be quite honest.”

“Album tier list though?” You asked, excited to talk about music.

You and Spencer had extremely similar tastes, but Shayne was still ‘discovering music’ so he didn’t know a few of the albums you mentioned. Spencer agreed with all of your choices but one. You ranked the Blue Album by Weezer at an A tier instead of an S (which was done simply to rile him up, and it worked). 

After you had all gone through your little TierMaker lists and agreed upon the ending rankings (yes, you moved the Blue Album to S), Spencer decided to throw a wrench in everyone’s plans.

“Oh, Peach, when we get back to the apartment we have to call maintenance again,” He said casually, while you were supposed to be getting ready for the next segment. “Shit, can you make sure someone cuts that?” He turned to Alex, who gave back a thumbs up.

“Wait, no, keep it in. Cut this though,” you laughed, deciding to play into it, “If we keep it in, they’ll all assume we have a place together. Then we can go to Twitter to ‘clarify’ that I was just coming to your place to work on a Games video. Give them crumbs, yes, but we can maybe drop a crouton here and there.” You smiled, proud of your improv skills showing their face.

“You two are diabolical, the actual reveal is going to be April First all over again,” Shayne said, a genuine smile on his face.

You returned it tenfold, so lucky to have such loving and supportive coworkers who doubled as friends. “I don’t think we will ever reach April First heights, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.” 

Spencer sat up, suddenly locked in, “Wait, Alex?” 

“Yeah?” They called from behind the monitors.

“Cut that, but keep the footage. We can use it later. You can just send it to me after?”

“I’ll let Rock know!” Alex replied, excitement in their voice.

“Demons, both of you!” Shayne was in a fit of laughter, again. It felt so good being able to make your friends smile so easily.

//

The next week, the Smosh Mouth episode drops. Normally there’s a two-to-three week turnaround for the SmoshCast videos, but since you and Spencer had begun dropping hints in videos, the viewership on videos with both of you in it had skyrocketed. You were both thoroughly surprised (and pleased) that your plan was going so well.

You both had a notes app check-list in your phone of silly bits to pull. So far, you had checked off: hugging more than three times in one video (Challenge Pit); you blowing Spencer a kiss (TNTL); Spencer blowing you a kiss (background of a Bit City ad-sketch); the entire Smosh Mouth episode, basically; shadow boxing, then pretending you were going to make out (Bit City); more romantic compliments, even more romantic bullying (Dread, Smosh Mouth, Culinary Crimes). 

Next up, a Twitter crumb.

Once the link to the episode was tweeted, Spencer quote tweeted it: “y/n thinks their the coolest person ever”

He deleted, then tried again: “y/n thinks they're the coolest person ever”

And then, you simply tweeted a screenshot of the lyrics to Slim Pickins by Sabrina Carpenter: “This boy doesn't even know the difference between there, their, and they are.” 

This was perfect, because in a matter of moments everyone was talking about the next line of that song. “Yet he’s naked in my room.”

//

After the Twitter Crumb, you both decided to slow down on the hints. This backfired, however, when everyone then thought you were fighting. You went back to being mostly normal, which was still physical and affectionate, but now the fans were so used to the new levels of it that they went 0 to 60 on ��oh my god are y/n and spencer fighting what happened btwn them :(“

Angela stopped you at lunch to let you know. You were halfway through a burrito bowl, sad to have to stop. “Hey, Y/N? Have you looked at the comments on videos lately?”

You wiped your mouth and made sure you were finished chewing before responding, which took longer than you wanted it to. You had just taken a fairly large bite when she rounded the corner. “No, why? Is everything okay?”

“Well, everyone thinks you and Spence are fighting,” she snickered, sitting down and taking a sip of her drink.

“Fighting? Why, because I’m not calling him a good boy on camera anymore?” You laughed, then lowered your voice, “He won't let me anyway, he said he got ‘dangerously’ hard.”

Angela choked a bit at that, fully used to you and Spencer being overly vulgar, but not in regards to each other.

“Oh! Okay! Well, I’m gonna go find Chanse so I can throw up with him about that! Bye!” And she was gone.

“It’s the truth,” you whispered to no one, before getting back to your food.

//

After a month of going back to ‘normal’ you decided to stop torturing everyone. You decided since the last Sabrina stunt sent fans into a tizzy, you posted a photo of you and Spencer building legos together. Then two hours later, you posted ‘Juno’ to your story, specifically the part where she sings “Adore me / hold me and explore me / I’m so fucking horny / Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”.

Yeah, that did the trick. Ian and Anthony did give you a light reprimanding for that one, considering the firestorm that happened on Twitter, Reddit, and your Instagram comments. Whoops?

You decided to talk to Spencer afterwards, to see what his timeline on this was. If you were being honest, you were ready to kill the charade at this point. For one thing, your one year anniversary was five months away, and you weren’t sure you could even last that long. But also, while Spencer was definitely enjoying the game you two had built, he had never wanted to hide you. And maybe that was an enticing concept.

“Hey, baby?” You called, tapping your boyfriend on the shoulder. 

“Hey, honey, what's up?” He slid his headphones off and grabbed your hand. Some things never change, huh?

You kissed his forehead, grabbing a chair and sitting with him. “I was wondering. It’s still a little far away, if I’m being honest, but our one year anniversary is soon. Did you want to maybe do the reveal that day?”

He was blushing again, and you would never get tired of that. He was still blushing at you like he was two, four, six, eight years ago. “I think I’d like that.”

“Okay! I love you so much, Spence.”

“I love you more, Peach.”

//

Five months later, your one year anniversary ♡

Spencer had had Ian pull some strings and rent out Buca Di Beppo for your anniversary. Normally, Smosh rented one out for VidCon, but they were doing Smosh Summer Games again this year, and decided to not do VidCon this time around. So they rented it out just for you and Spencer.

Your life had changed so much over the course of a year, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it all. You were in such a better place now than you were then. In so many ways, financially, mentally, physically, romantically, sexually. 

Spencer was the best partner you had ever had, by a fucking long shot. Honestly, in your youth you picked pretty bad ones. Repeatedly. You only had one serious relationship as an adult, and you were locked in for good on your second one. Well, in your opinion, you were locked in for good. 

Spencer hadn’t proposed yet, which was fine. Your birthday was coming up, so you were really hoping he would pop the question then. Whenever you ranted to Ang about this, she would promptly remind you how young your actual relationship is. Amanda, however, encouraged you fully. She had always wanted you two to date, so you getting married would send her into orbit.

Arasha also wanted him to ask you. She had actually started pestering you about your dream ring, your ring size, along with your dream venue and outfit. Chanse had taken you to brunch a few times to ask how the “Plan with a Capital P” was going, because he refused to be serious about it. You kind of liked that, though, because it took some pressure off. 

Because you did want it. Badly. Angela, Tommy, and Damien thought you should wait. Chanse, Amanda, and Arasha thought it was time. Courtney and Shayne refused to take sides, same with Ian and Anthony. Typical couples.

The crew had also decided not to weigh in, minus Erin, Kiana, and Alex. Who were all on your side, for the record.

And what side was Spencer on?

Well, he wasn't on anyone’s side.

He was on one knee, in Buca di Beppo of all places, proposing to you.

And you fucking loved it.

//

“What, did you seriously expect us to have a serious proposal? We’re too funny for boring proposals.”

You were doing a Q&A Smosh Mouth episode about your relationship. After he proposed, and got some gorgeous candids taken by Courtney, you both hard launched on Instagram (and Twitter, and Reddit, and Tumblr. So on and so forth. It really was April First again.)

“Yeah, but Buca?” Shayne was laughing his ass off again, as he did every time either of you told the story to someone. “I mean, it’s a sacred place to us here at Smosh. I get it, I do. It’s just so fucking funny.” Back to his laughter fit.

“I mean, I still remember the first Buca trip I went on with Smosh. I actually sat next to Spence, and I didn't like the pasta I ordered. He gave me his.” You smiled fondly to yourself, feeling sentimental. It was one of your favorite memories. “It’s one of the first times I remember thinking, like, fuck, I like this dude a whole lot. And he’s my best friend. And, like, out of my league.” 

“Whoa, what?” Spencer asked, eyes wide. “Me?”

“Yeah?” You blinked at him, confused.

“No, dude, you're way out of my league, what the fuck are you talking about? Shayne, what the fuck is Y/N talking about?”

Shayne threw his hands up in surrender, entirely not speaking on this. 

“Are we having our first fight on Smosh Mouth right now?” Spencer asked, rubbing his thumb on your hand, which had been laced with his under the table the whole time. He was making a joke, and wanted to make sure you knew he wasn't serious. What a fucking angel.

“It seems so because I think you were out of my league, one hundred percent. But let’s agree to disagree and move on, okay?” You decided not to really ‘yes, and’ that one.

Shayne jumped in, eager to change the topic, even though he knows you two are joking. “Well, the reactions have been stellar. You really pulled it off so well, especially by posting that ‘blooper reel’ of all the times you both messed up on camera!”

You had secretly been a little worried people would be upset. Amanda and Angela assured you anyone who was upset wasn't a real fan. Which was fair.

Speaking of Angela, you came to find out in the following month that everyone ‘taking sides’ was actually just moving parts in a huge Rube Goldberg machine of a proposal plan by Spencer.

Your fiancé. God, it was still crazy to think about.

But while you ran around trying to get people on your side, everyone had already been given guidelines by Spencer on how to react. And Arasha and Angela were his number one operatives.

Angela, your best friend, seemingly not on your side about wanting to get married, planting a seed of doubt in your mind.

(Spencer apologized for the mind games that everyone played, but it all ended so perfectly that you couldn’t stay mad at anyone. Angela would be walking you down the aisle.)

Arasha, your number one wedding supporter, asking wedding-related questions, then feeding the info back to Spencer.

(He had your dream ring handcrafted. Your dream venue was already booked. You weren’t going to say no, anyway. Arasha was helping with planning.)

Damien and Tommy siding with Angela. Damien, a romantic at heart. And Tommy, one of Spencer’s closest friends.

(Damien was in charge of misdirecting you around the office, Tommy is going to be the officiant at your wedding.)

Amanda and Chanse siding with you. Encouraging you that everything was going to be okay, whether he proposed or not.

(Amanda is the ringbearer, Chanse is in charge of music, thank god.)

Courtney, Shayne, Ian, and Anthony not taking sides at all, showing you partners shouldn't take sides.

(And they did. And do. And so do you. But they did remind you to be more mature about it.)

You were marrying Spencer. Your Spencer. Spinner. Spence. Fucking Charles. After nearly ten years, you were finally marrying the dude you fell for the moment you met his eyes in that office lobby. When he shook your hand, there were sparks. You both knew from that moment it was over.

And yet it still took so long. And even despite that, you’d do it all again, because it leads to Spencer. The road might have been bumpy, and the weather wasn't always sunny, and you might have broken down a few times along the way, but it led to Spencer. And you’d drive, run, walk, skip, hop on one leg the whole way down that road, as long as he was on the other side.

And now, he would be.

Always, and forever.

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taglist: @lokidokieokie @chaoticlizzzzzz @babble28 @starstriker027 @langaslefthairstrand @vc55bughead @kneelforloki @cosmichahn @lisiliely

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real author's note time!!

wowie, this has been such a word of labor, love, and obsession. this fic finally pulled me out of my months (almost years) long block, because for once i wrote more than 6k, but i also finished it!!!!! it's been quite a long time since i've finished a fic. next up is the angela x reader anon requested, but i can't promise a time window for that one. i hope you have all enjoyed this fic as much as i have, i'm quite proud of it and of myself. whether you follow me or not, thank you for reading and engaging with my fic. you're the best <3