#smosh games x reader

[simpingsavant]

Late Night

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.

Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3

Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.

Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.

The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.

“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.

The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.

You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.

Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.

You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.

Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.

From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 

Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 

Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.

For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?

Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.

In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

So far, you only got:

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’s your night going?”

“Good, and you?”

“Fine. Do you want a bag?”

“No, I have my backpack.”

“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”

Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.

“Have a good one.”

“You too.”

His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.

During your third month, that reason finally came.

He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”

“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.

“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.

“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.

“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”

“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”

“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.

“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.

He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”

“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.

Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.

“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.

“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”

He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.

“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”

“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.

You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.

You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.

“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”

You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.

“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”

“What’s at five?”

“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”

“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”

“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.

~~

Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.

The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.

You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.

Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.

“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.

“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”

“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”

“Yeah?”

“Interesting.”

The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”

Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”

“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.

“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”

“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”

“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”

“Don’t say that stuff.”

“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”

You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?

“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.

“Yes, actually—”

You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.

Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?

After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.

~~

“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.

The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.

“I finally finished with inventory.”

He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.

12:56

“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 

“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”

“For sure. See you tomorrow.”

“Later,” Michael says.

He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.

You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.

You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.

You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.

This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.

His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.

“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.

“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.

“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”

“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”

“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”

“Is this your final year?”

“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”

There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.

You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.

“Are you still working here over the summer?”

“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.

God, you wanted him so bad.

“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”

“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”

His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.

“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.

“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”

With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.

The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.

“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.

“Oh, right.”

Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.

“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.

“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”

You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 

Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.

You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.

They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.

“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”

“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.

“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.

“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”

“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.

“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”

“Damn, sounds like an ass.”

“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”

“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.

The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.

“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”

“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.

Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.

He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.

~~

When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.

“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.

Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.

“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.

“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.

“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.

God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.

“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.

After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.

As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?

“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.

“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”

“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”

“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.

“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”

“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”

You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.

You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.

“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.

You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.

You can deal with this on your own just fine.

The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.

“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.

“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”

You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”

“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.

You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”

“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”

You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.

“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”

Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.

Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.

“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.

With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.

“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”

The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.

“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”

“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”

“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”

“I was staying safe,” You defend.

“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”

“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.

“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”

“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.

“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.

His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.

“How often does this happen?”

“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”

Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”

“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”

Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.

“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.

2:21

“Damn, that’s a long time.”

“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”

When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.

“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”

“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”

“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.

The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.

“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”

“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.

You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.

“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”

“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.

“Your pick, I guess."

You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.

“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.

“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.

When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 

“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.

“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”

“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”

“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”

A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”

Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”

“What?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.

“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”

Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”

“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”

The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”

“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”

You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.

“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.

“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”

“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”

“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”

Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.

“I’m honored.”

“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”

“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”

You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”

“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”

“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”

Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”

You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.

“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.

“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.

“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”

“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”

“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”

“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”

“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”

“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”

“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”

#smosh #smosh games #smosh fanfic #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew #spencer x reader #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew imagine

[sassylegshayne]

buff baby

hi hello I'm finally gonna start talking ab dad!Shayne!!! this man has me in such a chokehold and the thought of him with a mini him makes me want to explode. idk if I'm gonna make this a series or anything, but I'll probably be posting more dad!Shayne soon 🫣 I hope y'all enjoy and lmk what you think!! mwah xo lees

1.1k words!

masterlist

Standing silently in your bathroom, staring down at trio of positive tests, an idea popped into your mind.

Your smile spread wider as you wrapped your arms around yourself, the smell of your boyfriend still lingering on the sweater of his that draped off of your shoulders. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest, your stomach filled with butterflies.

You glance to your phone, realizing Shayne would be home shortly, shocking you back into reality. You're quick to shove the tests back into their box, and then shove that box far, far into the back of your dresser drawer.

For the first time ever, you're really hopeful Shayne doesn't try and keep up with the laundry.

"Honey, I'm home!" Shayne called out playfully, wandering through the front door, setting your nerves on fire.

You jump a bit as he bursts through the doorway to your bedroom, quickly grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. You can't help but laugh, letting your head rest against his chest as he holds you tightly, pressinga soft, chaste kiss to your forehead.

"Hey, baby." He began, the nickname that normally comforted you now had your heart in your throat as you look to him with raised brows.

"I love you, this is really nice and don't wanna nterrupt it, but I might shit myself if don't." You couldn't hold back a small groan as you roll your eyes, shoving him away playfully as he chuckled, a grin on his face. Shayne grabbed at your hands, quickly pulling you back to press a peck to your lips before heading into your bathroom.

You couldn't help but laugh softly at the thought on your mind- that's the father of your child.

"Might wanna light a candle, I'm sorry!" Shayne called out, laughing.

"I can't be the dad because that baby has one blue eye and one brown eye, just like her ex!" Shayne yelled out, slamming the card on to the the tabletop as everyone cheered him on.

"And another thing," He continued through laughter as you gave him a faux shocked look. "She just wants me to be the father because I'm a YouTube celebrity!"

"Are you gonna take that, Y/N?" Angela called to you, perched on the edge of her seat as your group was nearing the end of the game.

"Fine, I didn't wanna do this to you, Shayne, but..." You laid down your card slowly, keeping your eyes on the man sat across from you as the room grew quiet. "The lie detector test determined that is a lie."

Shayne gasped, placing his hand to his chest before moving his popularity down on the board, the final blow of the game.

"Okay, and with that, we are ready to look at our test results, so if everyone would pass their packets to the person on their right." lan called out, Shayne leaning forward to hand you his as you passed yours off to Angela.

You slowly went around the group, everyone exaggerating their relief at not being the father. You tangled your fingers with Shayne's, gripping his hand tightly as Angela pulled your card.

"Y/N.. you are... not the father!" She squealed out, hugging you quickly as you grabbed Shayne's packet from your lap.

"Shayne.. I think we know how this is gonna end.." You began, laughing softly as you glance around, everyone else ending with the same result as you.

He nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath as he sat back in the seat. "I'm ready..."

You tried your best to hide your shakey hands as you pull out the card, the bright red box staring back at you.

"Shayne, you are going to be a father!" You called out, Shayne immediately jumping from his seat. He began storming off set quickly in a fit of exaggerated yelling and anger.

"Wait, what?!" Angela screamed out, her eyes wide as she registered your words.

"Did you say...?" lan began, the grin on his face was unmistakable as everyone began piecing it together, while Brennan was still following your boyfriend on his faux rampage.

You feel arms wrap around you tightly as Courtney and Angela begin to congratulate you, your cheeks blushed brightly as Shayne's yelling can be heard from off set.

Shayne chuckled as he cut the bit, turning to the camera behind him, the man behind it giving him a confused look.

"Did.. did you hear her?" Brennan asked, his brows furrowed— Shayne was way too calm to know what was happening.

"Yeah, I.. oh, fuck!" The brunette spoke, his blue eyes wide as he finally processed your words, sprinting back through the doors just as quickly as he left.

You barely have time to register his return before you're swept off your feet, finding yourself in a fit of laughter as you cling to Shayne's biceps.

Shayne felt like his face was about to split with just how big his grin was. He couldn't help but pull you closer, peppering your face with kisses before finally setting you back on your feet.

"You're serious, right?" Shayne finally asks, a bit out of breath from all of his screaming and running, his eyes searching your face as his hands gently cupped your cheeks.

"Yes, I'm completely serious!" You speak, barely able to contain your laughter as Shayne wraps his arms around you again, squeezing you gently against him.

You quickly slip from his grip, earning a pout as you grab your bag from off set, procuring the box of tests.

Shayne's hands began to shake as you brought the tests to him, the proof now sitting in his hand has a second wave of realization rushing over him.

He's quick to wrap you into his arms again, whispering his gratitude and love for you. You look up to him, his blue eyes brimming with tears as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You sniffle, tearing up a bit yourself as you reach up, wiping Shayne's cheeks as he laughs softly.

"Holy shit, that's a much more dramatic ending than expected.." lan laughed as he wrapped his arms around the two of you, squeezing you gently as he offered his congratulations.

"I can't wait for us to start making baby merch!" Spencer called from off camera, another fit of laughter erupting.

"Smosh's first baby!" Angela gasped, clutching her heart as her and Courtney coo'ed at the idea. The love, warmth and excitement in the room was better than you could've imagined.

"Well, uh, thanks for watching.." Shayne chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as the other stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you close to his side.

"You guys are gonna have a buff ass baby." Arasha mumbled, her eyes a bit wide at the idea as you chuckled, giving the camera a small wave.

#so soft so warm so fuzzy #i love fluff if yall cant tell #anyways pls lmk what yall think 🫶🫣 #smosh #mine #shayne #shayne topp imagine #shayne topp x reader #smosh games #shayne topp #Shayne topp au #smosh au #dad!shayne #smosh imagine #smosh x reader

[pedropascallme]

How about a fic where the reader also works at Smosh and they recently started dating but they haven't gone beyond kissing AND BAM FIRST TIME HAPPENS- really sexy, fluffy, gentle, maybe he picks her up a little bit, and they take time exploring eachother. You'd do so gooood! We truly need more Damien fic in this fandom 😭🔥

More, More, More

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: “You tilted your head, scanning his face; he blinked hard once, and fixed his posture, pushing his shoulders back slightly before relaxing them. Your hand trailed up his arm, tracing his tattoos and then loosely grabbing at his bicep.”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, praise, uhhh some Hereditary spoilers I guess? If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Not super proud of this because I've been studying all week and I feel like my lack of sleep did not contribute to this in any beneficial ways but I still hope you enjoy it <3

“Are you coming with us tonight?” You fell into step with Courtney while you walked down the hall and out of the office.

“No, I don’t think so,” you looked up from your phone, “promised Damien I’d watch Hereditary, and I don’t think he’d let me bail.”

She smiled at you, walking you to your car, “It’s a good movie,” she tilted her head, “And he’s a good guy. I don’t blame you for wanting to stay in.”

“Yeah, well,” you kind of clammed up, “He’s cute and I love a good beheading, so.” You laughed with each other before saying your goodbyes.

You’d been dating him for two months. And it was really and truly delightful; he was kind, and communicative, and above all so, so pretty. It had started so naturally, harbored crushes surfacing to reveal themselves at the right time, and progressed so smoothly, and you were thrilled by it.

Still, you let the familiar fear of rejection take control at times; the anxiety that maybe you were moving too quickly and that he was only a fraction as interested in you as you were in him. So the physical affection stayed surface level—literally—in that you kissed and touched but hadn’t gone beyond second base, if you remembered the laws of high school correctly.

And that was fine, and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t put pressure on you to do anything you didn’t want—but you really did want it. You wanted to let him have you, let him take you in taboo ways and places. Maybe that made you a bit deviant, maybe even a little perverse. But it was hard to be with someone so…flawless, as far as you were concerned, and not want something like that, even when the voices in your head told you that you shouldn’t, or that you weren’t nearly as experienced as any of his past partners might have been.

Comparison meets joy, and stabs it right in the neck.

~~~

“Be honest with me,” you sat next to Damien on the couch, curling your legs beneath you and leaning over towards him, “Did you want to watch this with me just so you could hold me during the scary parts?”

“Yeah, but not for the reasons you think,” he draped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, “I’m fucking terrified of it, and I need my big strong girlfriend to protect me.” He smiled, clearly amused by himself, and you blew a piece of hair out of his face.

“Wuss.” You kissed him, hand toying with his collar, before sitting back and leaning on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Remember that you said that tonight when you turn off the lights.” He shot you a dubious grin before grabbing the remote. You watched the muscle in his wrist move when he pressed the buttons, captivated by the small details of his body and the way he mouthed the titles of the movies that popped up on the TV screen while he flicked through previously watched films.

You tilted your head, scanning his face; he blinked hard once, and fixed his posture, pushing his shoulders back slightly before relaxing them. Your hand trailed up his arm, tracing his tattoos and then loosely grabbing at his bicep.

“I’ll still remember you’re a wuss when the lights are off.” You mumbled, and he looked down at you.

“You seem so sure.” He watched your hand sweep over his arm, nails barely grazing his skin.

“You think I should be contemplating something else?” You goaded him, unsure of where the sudden confidence had come from and why it had appeared only now. “Don’t you want me to think about you when the lights are off?” You continued with your double entendres. You saw him swallow, and from your position, leaning over him with your hand now on his chest, you could feel his heartbeat pick up.

God, he was nice to look at.

“No, I do,” he put down the remote, reaching over to hold your chin in his hand and guide you up to him, “but I think my proposal might be a little more…vulgar.”

You smiled against his mouth when he kissed you, the leisurely pace allowing you to take your time tasting him, feeling the shape of him near you, on you. You sat up, giving yourself room to lace your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer, and he let you; an arm wrapped around your waist to secure you against him.

“You wanna watch this movie with me or not?” You quipped when you separated from him, and he smiled, shaking his head.

“Yes—yeah. I do want to watch this with you,” he paused, before continuing, “You, uh…you wanna tell me something?” He sort of shifted in his seat, tilting his head back on the couch cushions to drink you in.

“What?”

“Where that came from?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you played dumb, heat creeping up your neck and splashing your cheeks red; you tried not to lose your new surge of confidence, reassuring yourself that his line of questioning was a result of mutual excitement. You leaned over him to grab the remote and press play before you crawled into his lap to straddle him.

“You gonna watch this way?” His hands found purchase on your hips.

“I haven’t told you about this skill?” You kept up your act.

“No, I was unaware of the eyes on the back of your head,” he squeezed your hips and you hummed at the feeling, “But it’s pretty hot. I love a woman with twenty/twenty/twenty/twenty vision.”

You heard the movie play behind you; the score and the sound of voices droning softly. “Can I be honest,” you traced a finger over his collar, “I’m not that interested in the movie right now.”

“How dare you,” Damien feigned hurt, “This is a serious breach of protocol—” his hands crawled up your back before he stood, picking you up with him, and laying you on your back, caging you under him while you laughed from the adrenaline that came with being picked up and put down so quickly. “And I absolutely will not have it,” he kissed down your neck and you grabbed at his hair. “This switch up will not go unpunished.” He brought his face back up to yours and kissed you deeply, your hand tightening in his hair when his tongue slipped past your lips.

“Tell me if it’s too much?” He urged, nose brushing against your cheek when he broke away from you.

“Keep going.”

“You’re sure?”

“Damien, I don’t think there’s a sexy way to say this: I really want to have sex with you right now.” Your hand fell from his hair and trailed over his neck, stopping between his shoulder blades, and pulling gently at his shirt.

“Sounded pretty sexy to me,” he smirked, continuing his ministrations, kissing down your neck, lips stopping just above the collar of your shirt. He reached under the hem of the fabric, warm palms brushing against your skin while he explored you. You gasped when he cupped your breast in his hand, his free arm finding its way under your body to prop you up slightly and allow him easier access to you.

You’d done this before, had him touch you like this, but it felt so much more charged in this moment; the promise of more to come made you antsy in the best way, having previously stopped here. His hands kept exploring, with your chest, your stomach, and the curve of your spine all finding relief under his hands. You slid one hand under his shirt, desperate to be as close to him as possible; your other hand continued to tug on the back of his collar, encouraging him to rid himself of the layer of fabric.

He gave in to your silent request, pulling away from you momentarily to take it off before returning his undivided attention to you and, with his hands on your waist, bunching your shirt up at your sides, offered you another heated kiss.

You felt restless, wired by his touch and eager to feel him in the ways you had spent so much time imagining. Your hips bucked gently into his, and you heard his breath catch in his throat, his chest stuttering against you when you deepened the kiss, arms wrapping around his neck and one leg draped over him. Your hands trailed over his back, drinking in his frame above you. You tugged at his hair to disconnect momentarily, panting.

“Can I…?” His hand ghosted over the hem of your shirt while you looked up at him.

“Please.” You gave him the go-ahead, and he pulled you up a bit to help you strip off your shirt. He wasted no time, licking a streak across your collar bone before dipping his head down to kiss the valley between your breasts; he left open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh and you put a hand on the back of his neck, unsure whether to enjoy the view or allow your head to loll back to fully embrace the feeling of his mouth on your body. His thumb grazed over one of your nipples, and you gasped at the contact.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled against your chest, focused on the way the emerging goosebumps on your skin felt against his tongue and fingers, “you’re so beautiful.”

“Damien,” you tilted his chin up in your fingers, “pants.”

“Fuck—right.” He tore himself away from you, hands flying to the zipper of your jeans to undo them and peel them off your legs. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, undeniably obvious wet spot soaking through with your desire, before lowering his face to your core and licking a stripe over your clothed cunt. You whimpered, hand reaching for his shoulder and squeezing, encouraging him to continue. He repeated the action, looking up at you from between your legs to watch your eyes flutter before you let your head fall back against the armrest of the couch.

“Can I take them off?” One of his fingers softly brushed against your clit over your panties.

“You can do whatever you want,” and you were only half-joking, so trusting of him and his intentions, “Take them off.”

Damien did as he was told, pulling the fabric down your thighs. He let one of his fingers trail up your slit, letting you coat it with your slick before using it to rub tight circles on your clit.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he had moved himself down the couch, propping himself up on his forearms above your core, and, using the position to his advantage, he licked into you, finally getting a proper taste. You moaned, a breathy sound that pushed all the air from your lungs, and it spurred him on: his tongue fucked into you while he used his finger to massage your clit, grinding his hips into the couch to find friction when you moaned his name.

He removed his finger from your clit, letting it trace over your hole before sinking into you; you let out a sigh of contentment, and he pumped it slowly in and out of you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, before adding another digit. You mewled down at him, whispers of his name and begs for him to continue his movements, promises of how good you would be for him if he would just, please, let you cum. He moaned at your words, the vibrations shooting through your core, and when he sped up his movements ever so slightly, you were an absolute goner; one last swipe of his tongue over your clit in time with the push of his fingers against your walls had you crying out for him.

You gulped for air, dizzy with satisfaction, and when you looked down at him, he was already staring at you, his face painted with a dopey grin. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you smiled, letting your head fall back on the couch. He climbed up and over you, kissing your forehead.

“You’re pretty when you cum for me,” he rubbed his nose against yours before moving to kiss your cheek, “wanna see you do it again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, lips brushing against yours and you closed the gap between them; you could taste the sweet edge of your own cum on his tongue.

“Make me.” You whispered against him, and he groaned into the kiss, pushing his hips against yours.

Hesitantly, he broke away, standing to undo his belt and undress. You watched, transfixed, eyes trailing from his collar to his legs. The background noise of the movie rose to a crescendo before falling quiet.

“Baby,” his hand fell over your face, cupping your cheek.

“Mhm.”

“We just missed the decapitation scene.” His words were laced with a faux disappointment, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“Guess you’ll just have to bide your time until you can find the remote and rewind.” You pulled at his arm, and he crawled back onto the couch, positioning himself above you.

“I mean—if you insist,” he laughed, kissing your neck while he lined himself up with you. The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance and the mood returned to a more serious tone. “Gonna be good for me?” His forehead rested against yours, “Gonna tell me what you need?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, squirming just enough to feel a hint more relief with his cock so close to where you needed it. “Need you, Damien.”

“Good girl.” He pushed into you slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch as he went. Mouth open and eyes squeezed shut at the feeling, he moaned softly when he bottomed out. You clawed at his arms, pulsing around him.

“More,” you pleaded under him.

“Oh my god,” he keened at your words, pushing his hips into yours even further before pulling out to repeat the motion over again; long, languid thrusts filling you up, dropping kisses on any exposed skin you could reach on each other between moans. “Tell me—tell me how it feels, baby.” Damien whispered into the skin of your cheek, his words quiet in your ear.

“It’s so good,” you whined at the drag of his cock against your walls, tip pushing against your most sensitive spots with every roll of his hips. “Want it—harder, please, Damien.”

He gave in to your cries immediately; straightening himself out above you, one arm reaching for your leg to prop it up against his shoulder, he used it as leverage to pull you into him. You yelped, well pleased by the new angle and the deep push of his hips, eyes rolling back when he brushed your cervix.

“Christ, you’re so pretty,” he grit his teeth, growling his words, “You like that, baby? Like feeling me like this?”

Your face contorted into a hazy smile, ragged moans taking the place of a coherent answer to his question. You reached out for him, raising your arms to encourage him to drop back down to your level; he pushed your leg down, and you wrapped it around his waist when he leaned forward to kiss you, engulfing you underneath him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to capture every inch of your body to bottle in this memory. You whined at the feeling of his stubble on your neck, the vague tickle making you giggle softly into his shoulder before your own moans cut your laughter short. He smiled, hips still driving into you.

“Doing so good, baby, give me one more.” He gave himself the space to snake an arm between your bodies, fingers deftly finding your clit and kneading it to pair with his thrusts. You arched your back, consumed by need, desperate to show him how good he made you feel. He sped up, movements becoming rougher the closer you both got to your highs; he rolled your clit under his finger and you gripped his bicep, nails threatening to break his skin as you came for him.

“That’s right—fuck, that’s my good girl,” He praised you while you trembled under him, cunt squeezing his cock while he drew out your orgasm. “So fucking good, that’s it.” He rambled, mouth agape once more as he hurtled towards the edge; after a few more deep thrusts, he pulled out of you, fisting his cock and spilling over your stomach with a moan of your name. His cum was warm on your skin, mixing with the sheen of sweat that had developed over you.

He slumped over you, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck while he evened out his breathing; you took deep breaths underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your cheek into the crown of his head.

“That was,” he breathed against your skin, bringing his face to your level, and kissing your nose, “better than a movie.”

“That’s high praise.” You mumbled, letting him press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I know,” he smiled, a familiar playful glint in his eye, “Don’t you feel honored?”

“So much,” you laughed, “and sweaty.”

He stood up, locating his shirt near the coffee table. He turned back to you, using it to wipe down your stomach and the wet that dripped between your legs, peppering your abdomen with kisses. One of your fingers scooped a spot he had missed on your stomach, and you brought it to your mouth to lick it clean.

“Damien…” you released your finger with a pop, and he returned to his spot on the couch, pulling you up to lean against him. He looked at you, silently pressing you to continue, eyes fixed on your lips, silently hoping you might repeat the action just so he could see it again. “Can we rewind the movie?”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “If you think you can get through it without getting distracted.”

“Mm,” you grunted, pushing yourself further into him, “no promises.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smoshblr #smosh pit #smosh games #smosh squad

[iguana-eyanna]

Sunshine and Clouds

Pairing: Shayne Topp x Preschool Teacher! Reader

Summary: Things keep on getting better as you take your relationship to the next level

requested by @winifrede

"Babe? Where are my keys?" You ask, lifting up the cushions from the couch.

You were running late to your work and you were trying to find the keys to your car. You looked by the fridge that usually held them by the keychain and under the sofa in your living space.

Shayne pops his head and jingles your colorful keychain that had your school ID.

"Looking for these?" He asks playfully.

"Haha, very funny. Give them back." You said, reaching it, but Shayne stretched his arm, refusing to give it so easily.

"Not so fast there, you gotta give me something."

"Shayne, c'mon. I'm already 10 minutes behind schedule." You said, looking down at your Apple watch.

"Just one kiss, that's all I'm asking." He said, giving you his signature smile.

You roll your eyes and lean in for a sweet kiss as his arms wrap around your waist.

You pull apart as Shayne wiggles your keychain in front of you.

"It was by your work desk. I had to lift the paintings your kids made."

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver. Now I gotta go!" You said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Shayne smiles as you run off to work at the school you've been working for the past three years.

He remembers meeting you at a Barnes and Noble where you were buying books to read to your kids in your first year of teaching. He could sense you had a big heart. He asked you out then and there and your relationship could only be described as sunshine and clouds.

When you first moved in with each other, Shayne and you really learned to accommodate both of your living habits. For instance, Shayne was a minimalist (there was no question, everyone knew this). He just remembers walking in the middle of the night almost trampling over the work you brought back home, from a stack of worksheets or Crayola crayons.

But you two figured out your differences and helped each other through everything.

You remember helping him draft video ideas and often told him to go to sleep when he accidentally dozed off by his laptop.

Shayne remembers calming your sniffles when your first class graduated, but you knew they would do great things as they continued their education.

And now, he decided to head to the gym since it was his day off and noticed that you forgot your lunch. He looks down at his phone and realizes you should be at work now, and decides to text you.

Shayne: Missing something? 🍱 💛: oh my gawd not again! 🤦‍♀️ Shayne: lol, I should really buy you that airtag for christmas then Shayne: I can drop it off to you now if you want 💛: Really? ty, I would eat lunch here but I will not be satisfied with just dinosaur nuggets at the cafeteria. Shayne: No problem, go through the front desk like last time? 💛: Yeah, you'll be in good hands. The front office ladies love you stopping by. Shayne: Huh, maybe you should forget your lunch more often for me to stop by then 😏 💛: you're so funny

You always like sending those gifs and it always makes him laugh till he can't breathe.

Shayne: please ✋🏻 Shayne: But yeah, I'll go through the front and meet you later. 💛: ty again. I love you!! Shayne: Not possible, I love you more. 💛: you must be wrong sir, because I love you most <3 💛: drive safe!!! Shayne: will do Shayne: ... and I love you infinitely

Shayne shuts his phone as he gets ready to head over to your school.

Once he gets there, he comes down to the front of the school and signs in and has one of the office people walk with him to your class. Shayne lightly knocked on the door and he could hear a bunch of kids screaming in unison.

You open up the door, greeting him with a bright smile.

“Wanna say hi to the kids? I mentioned you were dropping something and they wanna see you.”

“Oh yeah definitely!” He replied.

He always wished to have kids of his own, and since you were a teacher, his dream of starting a family only grew immensely.

“Everyone? Mr. Topp is stopping by to say hello! What do we say?”

A bunch of kids turn around and smile, waving.

“Morning Mr. Topp!” They said in unison.

“Hi everyone! Just dropping some lunch for your teacher.” He said, waving your bag in the air.

“Oooooooooooooo” some kids said, smirking. You playfully roll your eyes and grabbed your bag back and ran towards your desk.

“Okay everyone, let’s work on our alphabets today! Miss Suki from next door will watch you momentarily till I come back.”

One the teacher who had a free period came over, you waked Shayne to the front of the school.

“What do you think of the kids? I think they’re my most rumbustious class I’ve had” you joked, but loved the students regardless.

“They seem like a fun bunch, makes me wonder how our kids will be like.” Shayne said, then stopped in his tracks.

You stopped as well, feeling your throat become dry.

Both of you awkwardly stood by his car, waiting for the others response.

“You want kids?” You ask shyly.

Shayne felt his courage building, no longer hiding his hands in his pockets as he looked at you, timid.

“Yeah, I um… I want to have a family. And I uh… hope I can start one with you.”

You slowly smile, feeling your cheeks grow rosy.

“I wanna have kids with you too, Shayne.”

His smile grew wide as he hugged you, swirling you around in the air.

“Oh my god, I’m relieved. I wasn’t sure since you handle kids 24/7.” He said, looking back at you.

“Please, have more faith in me” you joke.

“And besides,” you said, closing in the gap. “Maybe we should start practicing on this plan of ours?” You ask innocently, slightly smirking.

Shayne’s eyes blew up at your statement, placing his hands on the lower back.

“Oh you be careful. Once we get home, I won’t waste a second.” He said.

“I’ll bet you won’t. Now go, I gotta get back to my class. I love you.”

You two share a kiss, more passionate than this morning.

“I love you more, I can’t wait to see you tonight.” He said, giving you one more peck before he jumped in his car and drove out (and you think he screamed a loud ‘Whoop!’ in his car.)

‘He’s gonna be a wonderful dad.’ You thought as you shake your head and smiled, walking back to your class.

Tonight was going to change the rest of your lives.

#shayne topp #shayne x reader #shayne topp x reader #shayne topp smosh #shayne topp x you #smosh fanfic #smosh fanfiction #smosh #smosh games #smosh pit

[sqidermanzzz13]

no thoughts. just courtgela.

#courtgela #angela giarratana #angela giarratana x reader #courtney miller x reader #smosh #smosh pit #smosh games #its the way courtney’s hands are always hovering angela’s shoulders #courtgela truther #courtney is always comforting angela😭 #i don’t know how tumblr works #courtney miller #courtangela

[spennsrs]

𖦹⋆｡˚⋆ฺ the only exception.

↳ TYPE OF WRITING: drabble ↳ CONTENT CREATOR: damien haas from smosh, mentioned shayne topp, spencer agnew, trevor evarts, and courtney miller ↳ SONG REC: the only exception by paramore

"we did some great work today! get some rest, dames. tell [y/n] i said howdy!" shayne's voice was muffled slightly through the phone, but nonetheless damien cheeses the possibly biggest smile known to man.

"will do, man. don't party too hard without me. although, i'm expecting some sort of text from courtney at some ungodly hour saying how you and spence drank too much."

"hey!" the faint voice of spencer almost makes damien jump, but at least he knew now he was on speaker phone, shaking his head with a chuckle.

"love you lot, but i am home now. drink water!" damien parents his friends before hanging up on shayne, sparring him from having to hear any protests. with a sigh, he puts his car in park and turns the car off before deciding to take a moment to just... breath.

he was super excited to be home with his partner, [y/n]. well... unofficial partner... cuddle buddy? situationship even, as he had heard trevor mentioned the other day. damien didn't care for a label. labels were pressed onto society way too much. two people could live together, cuddle, sometimes kiss, and not be a couple. simple as that. [y/n] seemed to enjoy it just as much as damien, and his cats finally had another parent to love on and beg for food. no matter what really happened between him and [y/n], as long as he could still come home to them, he didn't quite care.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

as damien opened the door to the apartment, it wasn't a surprise only freyja padded to the door to greet her father. zelda always did prefer [y/n]. "hey, sweet girl." he mutters, setting his bag by the door and crouching down to gently scritch behind the cat's ears. he picks up the grey and white feline and quietly follow the noise of what he presumed to be his partner's favorite show. his suspicions were confirmed when he peeked his head into his room to see his sweet black and white cat curled up on [y/n]'s lap, sound asleep.

he couldn't help how his heart swelled at the sight. the form curled up on his bed was covered by the sheets of the bed, tired eyes slowly trailing to where damien stood. the tired eyes shone, and damien swore he could see every star in them. "hey, love." he says lowly, slowly approaching the bed to set freyja down to let the cat join her sister.

"hi, damien."

the sleepy voice made a soft pink blush creep up on his cheeks, sitting on the edge of the bed. his hand reaches out, gently carding his fingers through their hair. [y/n], much akin to a cat, leaned into the touch with a soft smile. they reach for the remote, pausing the show. there was a comfortable silence that fell between them, damien could tell the other was emotionally exhausted. as much as he wanted to whisk them into his arms and shower them in kisses and compliments, to downright worship them and let his emotions spill like a leaky faucet.

but he had to be okay with keeping himself at a distance, to admire form afar.

[y/n] angled their head to look up at damien, simply admiring his features. he was deep in thought, and it made them pout a bit. "what's on your mind, dames?" they say softly, scooting over as their hands slip around his bicep, pulling him to lay down. "you've had a long day. wanna watch something?" the soothing voice of [y/n] made damien blink, before letting a yawn escape his lips, stretching out.

"i was gonna shower... but now that i'm laying here, exhaustion is finally catching up with me." he mumbles, slinging an arm around [y/n]'s middle, pulling them close. the sound of their giggle makes damien angle his head to comfortably look at the other. "you're so breathtaking..." he mutters, and he knows [y/n] hears due to the deep red blush that paints itself over their cheeks.

with a squeal, they hide their face in damien's chest, and damien could stay like this forever. "no, 'm not..." they mutter softly, snuggling closer.

moments like these were damien's favorites. it was selfish, but in damien's perfect dream world, he might have been [y/n]'s only exception to their avoidance of love.

little did he know, he was their only exception.

#damien haas #damien haas x reader #marnie's writings #smosh #smosh x reader #smosh games #smosh pit #i love these sillies sm #shayne topp #smosh shayne #smosh damien

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hii, first of all I’m loving the smosh headcanons, second, could you please make a spencer agnew one?

spencer agnew x reader headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a/n: tysm for the request lovely!! love spencer so much and i hope you enjoy these little headcanons 💌🍓

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dating spencer would include…

ok when he first met you he tried to work up the nerve to ask you out for actual weeks

and he finally he did and you guys started dating 

y’all have so many inside jokes 

and make each other laugh constantly

and you definitely have a cat

which he named after an inside joke you guys have (see above)

he tells you how unique you are all the time 

calls you every night and then texts ‘goodnight’ right after 

uses the most random emojis 

you guys get into a lot of tv shows together and geek out with each other it’s adorable

he gives you all the compliments

and he’s such a hopeless romantic like ✋😭

‘I don’t deserve you (y/n)’

can’t pick a restaurant for the life of him but he loves whatever you pick 

you guys have game nights all the time and invite all the smosh fam

definitely got you hooked on mountain dew kickstart 

he’s so protective of you fr

never leaves your side at events and stuff

“you can’t leave me, (y/n), I don’t know anyone here’

he calls you by the most random nicknames 

and you love it 

don’t ask why but i know you guys pulled a barbenheimer tell me im wrong 

always holding your hand 

he made you video diaries documenting your relationship for your birthday 

and you two have so many photo albums together 

he posts about you 24/7

leans his head on your shoulder all the time

you’re his best friend and he tells you that sm

always has an arm around you 

neck kisses 

constantly sending you memes especially of cats 

everyone at smosh is already secretly preparing for your wedding because they know you guys will end up together 

he just adores you and you guys have such a beautiful relationship <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope this is what you wanted!! let me know if you want any other smosh headcanons 💋💌

#spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew headcanons #smosh #smoshblr #smosh fam #smosh headcanons #smosh fanfiction #smosh pit #smosh games #smosh squad #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #headcanon #x reader

[wandaslittlelove]

Angela Giarratana Headcanons

I feel like Angela would be a very touchy person. Always having to have some part of your body touching. Whether it be holding hands, her holding your waist, thighs brushing against each other, playing with your fingers, literally anything.

Angela is naturally very loud and dramatic and sometimes she can’t help but feel as if she's too much. In these moments all she needs is you and your reassurance. She likes it in these moments when you hold her and she can rest her head on your chest while you play with her hair. 

She LOVES being called beautiful and pretty. Especially when it comes from you. You can almost always have her a blushing mess just by calling her a pretty girl.

Loves using any nickname she can for you. Princess, baby, babe, my love or Mi Amore.

She likes being the big spoon but also likes when you hold her.

She is DADDY. Loves when you call her it. One time you whispered it in her ear during a TNTL bit and she immediately spit out her water.

Practice bits with you. Whenever she has a new idea she comes up to you all excited to show you and of course you listen to her for hours.

She loves the way you listen to her with so much interest no matter what it is shes talking about.

Has a very raspy morning voice.

She always begs for a couple more minutes cuddling in the mornings. Those couple minutes turn into hours as she lulls you back to sleep.

Very jealous and possesive. Wants everyone to know you are hers and only hers. Leaves LOTS of hickeys all over your neck.

She likes to keep your relationship away from social media but will occasionally post images of you on dates and stuff with the caption "My girl".

You go to every single one of her starkid shows. and if you do stage performances she goes to every one of yours.

One your anniversaries she buys you flowers and cooks lots of Italian food.

She proposes in the middle of a tntl. You were on the stool and she came out to you with a small box. The cast and crew already knew what was going to happen. Getting down on one knee in front of you she asked you to be her forever and you spit out your water quickly and said yes.

#angela giarratana x fem reader #angela giarratana x reader #angela giarratana #smosh #smosh cast #smosh games #smosh mouth #smosh angela #smosh squad #smosh pit #starkid

[ghostofmaxx]

this man is just so cute ahhhhhh i wanna squish

#spencer agnew #smoshblr #smosh games #smosh mouth #smosh pit #smosh x reader #smosh squad #smosh cast

[jesussavemenow11]

Winter's the Only Season // Smosh

Pairing- Amanda Lehan-Canto // Fem!Reader

Warnings- I don’t think any but if there is let me know and I will add them!

SO MUCH FLUFFY STUFF

NO USE OF Y/N

Word count- 1716

Summery- You love your close friends and family, especially when it comes time for the excitement of winter parties and feasts. But ever since your childhood best friend moved away, it’s never quite felt the same. 

 Winter’s in Boston are brutal, always have been brutal, will most likely always be brutal. From the wind to the constant snowfall. And don’t get me started on the irritable individuals that live in this city. I have a big family, they all come together during the big holidays like Christmas. It’s nice to have them all together. Friends and neighbors will get together and enjoy one another's company in the many parties my parents throw. The nights get rowdy and drinks get shared along with secrets about anyone and everyone. The moms gravitate to one side of the room, while the dads crowd to the other. 

It’s been this way since I was a kid. But ever since Amanda moved away, things haven’t been the same. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so happy she got out of this god forsaken city, but I can’t help but be devastated with the truth of her not being around anymore. Amanda and I grew up as neighbors, our moms being highschool friends and our dads being forced to enjoy one another's company, and the constant playdates since we were babies, we couldn’t help falling into some sort of friendship. Amanda really only comes back into town for the winter excitement, due to her moms constant nagging and begging for her to at least visit during Christmas. Though I see her yearly, I still crave the day she flies back in and everything would feel normal and at peace again. Today was that day.

I drove home yesterday, returning back to the house I grew up in. I went through the typical emotional greetings. Now I sit by the window, picking at the loose fabric on the cuff of my jeans, waiting oh so impatiently for Amanda to show up once more. It had been a full year since I last saw her, hugged her, felt her arms wrap around me and smelled her signature honey and tea tree perfume. 

My mom walked into the living room, a wooden spoon in hand, she sighed contently at me perched by the window. “Oh, honey.” She giggled slightly. “Hm?” I hummed back, not daring to move my eyes away from the view of the end of the street. “She’ll get here soon, I promise!” My mother tried reassuring me. 

“While you wait, why don’t you help Cindy and I in the kitchen?” She said as she returned to the kitchen. 

I rolled my eyes, my impatients eating away at me. The anticipation for Amanda to get here was killing me. I didn’t want to miss her arrival, but I also would feel awful If I didn’t go help my mom. So reluctantly I left my spot in front of the window, making my way to the kitchen. Immediately I was hit with the smell of warm rolls, turkey keeping warm in the oven and many other yearly feasts. My dad stood beside the fridge complaining to Cindy about how my mom won’t let him cook the turkey anymore because last year he cooked it for too long and my mom sent him out to get something else. 

“She’s never Cooked the Turkey Cindy!” My dad complained, throwing his arms up, to an annoyed Cindy who stood chopping veggies while my nephew sorted them on a platter beside her. “I know Scott, but you have to have more faith in your own wife.” Cindy reassured the man. 

I tried squeezing past the two, not sneaky enough though, my dad stopped me saying, “Candy! Help your dad out, tell your mom she has nothing to worry about.” I rolled my eyes at my frazzled father. “No thanks daddio, I don’t want to get caught up in between you and moms arguments.” I responded. My dad shook his head and mumbled under his breath. I reached over my nephew grabbing some celery. “We aren’t arguing, just bickering!” My mom giggled and patted my dads back. 

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to be a part of it. Dad please stop calling me Candy, I turned 34 this year, It’s not the same.” I said through a mouth full of celery. “Not the same as what?” He said as I squeezed past him. “As when you were 33?” I went to glare at him until I heard the front door open and a screech from my mom. “Amanda’s home!!” She shouted. 

I practically threw my celery on the counter, sprinting to the front of the house. I looked out the window to see Amanda and her dad getting out of their car. My heart picked up, my excitement bubbling in my stomach and to my chest. Suddenly I felt sweaty and out of breath. I ran to the front door pushing it open. There she was, her hair up in a low pony-tail to be out of her face. She wore a ‘Smosh’ hoodie and blue jeans. She stretched as she got out of the car. Her long limbs reaching for the sky. I took in her beauty, even from here she was flawless. I have liked every part of her for so long, she was back home. She had let her hair grow out since I last saw her, her bangs longer and her skin seemed so tan compared to the falling snow. 

I ran off the porch and straight into her, wrapping my arms around her neck. She stumbled back slightly, the impact startling her. Once she regained her balance, she wrapped her arms around me. I immediately melted into her embrace, she lifted me off the ground just barely to emphasize the love poured into the hug. This hug was shared yearly, typically on the same day, and nearly always at the same spot. Yet every time it feels so fresh and new. Amanda means the world to me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing her again. This moment right here, her hugging me, the faint feeling of her lips secretly pushed to my neck, the scent of her floating around us, my chest pounding with content, this moment was an unwritten law. We were to share this moment last year, this year, and the many years to come. 

~~~~

  Hours passed since Amanda returned home, the sun had set by now and we had all enjoyed dinner around the table. Per usual Amanda and I sat side by side. Her hand squeezed my knee from time to time under the table. I sat back and let the others reunite with her as I admired her from afar. My favorite is watching her play card games with some of the family and friends. The pure passion she has for winning, I love when she gets so into it she will start screaming and slamming her cards down in anger. Her and my dad will get into full blown arguments about what play was wrong and how the other is cheating. She’ll point at him and say: “How is that cheating?!” As he accuses her of a perfectly out of hand play. At the end of it all I will remind them both they forget rules way to easily. 

Now, the both of us sit in the living room, wine glasses in our hands, and the bottle that I stole from the kitchen, stands on the floor just close enough to reach when either of us needs a quick refill. Everyone else either already went home or still sat chatting in the dining room out of sight, we could still hear them though, their loud banter and the faint christmas records creating a gentle ambience. 

I shared a gentle moment of peace with Amanda, just the two of us in the living room on Christmas eve night. She took a sip from her wine, I watched her lips as she did so, so delicate, so soft. Her eyes shimmered in the light of the Christmas tree. 

“How has work been?” I asked, really just using it as an excuse to hear her talk again. She shrugged. “Pretty good.” She started, her voice raspy from all of her shouting. “The fans seem to be taking a liking to our long story series stuff so we’re doing a lot of that lately.” 

I nodded along listening to her every word. “I think they have been taking a good liking to you!” I pointed at her, wine glass still in hand. She quickly shook her head, but I could see a small blush cover her face. “I mean I can’t blame them!” I giggled. 

“Oh please!” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Yeah I’m a real hot commodity!” She laughed with me. Our fit of giggles fading slowly into the background noise. “I really missed you.” I said suddenly, my heart skipping a beat when she looked over to me, her smile lingering on her face. “I always miss you.” She replied. 

A silence fell over us once more, I couldn’t help but admire her. “You stare a lot.” She said, “You have a very stare-worthy face.” I replied quickly. Her smile dropped, and I inched forward, I had been waiting to feel this again, was the the moment? 

“You too.” She replied before leaning the rest of the way.

I kissed her, slow and tender. She returned the gentle kiss, treating me as if I were made of the finest marble and she didn’t dare make a scratch. I pushed deeper into the kiss, wanting to live in the moment all the time. Wanting to have her during all seasons, I want to have her near me everyday. I don’t want to wait for that one time of year that she comes home and I only get her for two weeks. I loved these two weeks, but I also despised them because I knew at the end I would have to say goodbye again. 

I knew that at the end she would go back to California and I would go back to my 9-5, as I counted down the days of her return. Winter was the only season we could be together.

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

I hope you enjoy this, this is my first EVER smosh fic. I hope you like it, leave critics and requests I am open to anything. I used to be a huge fanfic writer but haven't done it in a while so I'm a little rusty. Love you all!! - DOT

#smosh #amanda lehan canto #smosh games #fanfiction #smosh fanfiction #smosh squad #female x reader #female x female #smosh shayne #shayne topp #angela brainrot #angela giarratana #amangela

[smloshie]

The update you’ve all been waiting for

I met Damien haas today.

We took pictures but idk if I wanna post them here bc I don’t want him to know I’m the one who writes the Simon bootles fanfics

#smosh #smosh games #shayne topp #damien haas #smosh courtney #smosh shayne #smosh damien #courtney miller #damien haas x reader #simon bootles

[thesixthimmortal]

THE CHOSEN!ANGELA X READER HEADCANONS AND SCENARIOS

alright let’s start something simple

She will 100% try to show off her skills just to impress you

train and show you how to use a sword

can sometimes be too dramatic, literally made a scene once just because a bug landed on her face

literally just face blank when taking pictures, sometimes do a peace sign

only let you see her without glasses, you love love LOVE her eyes and always seem to stare into them

kisses your knuckles (a classic) whenever you two go on dates

people think you date her for popularity points, oh boy how wrong they were

*cough* often works out at home so you can enjoy the view *cough*

SHES TALLER THAN YOU SO WHENEVER YOU KISS HER YOU ALWAYS GO FOR THE CHIN

if she’s shorter then you always go for the forehead

Born to be golden retriever, forced to be black cat

has a weird addiction to wolves, can and will bring them up if she gets the chance

in her universe I imagine every musical is a movie and every movie is a musical

I like imagining her walking around home alone in t shirt and underwear like a dad and you BEG for her to wear shorts/pants

is 100% a ass girl

have posters of wolves in her bedroom

BIG SPOON

A/N: this is all for now, but if you have more PLEASE LET ME KNOW

#When you two have roleplay sex she ALWAYS wants to play as a werewolf #angela thoughts #angela giarratana x reader #angela giarratana #smosh games #the chosen

[sassylegshayne]

I've watched this video a totally normal amount of times

#thats a lie #i love my little jock boy #shayne actually owns me #also yes i slowed these down #i did it for myself dont worry #mine #gif #smosh tumblr #smosh #smosh shayne #shayne topp #smosh games #shayne topp imagine #shayne #shayne topp x reader #shayne topp edit #shayne topp au #shayne topp smut #i mean its smutty #or slutty idk #sorry to tell yall but this is gonna become a perma pinned post #i love looking at my blog and being greeted w arms

[pedropascallme]

I love your professor damien fics so so so much!!!!!! you are feeding the damien girlies and it is MUCH appreciated

a damien x reader shower fic (😏) would be amazing if you were interested? 🙏🙏🙏 but no rush or pressure to actually do it unless you want to lol 💜

The Shower Scene

Pairing: Damien Haas x f!Reader

Summary: "Some hours later, after flicking through channels of near-unwatchable cable TV and spending more time than you probably ever had with the cats, you figured you had the time to take a shower—a nice one, long and steamy and relaxing. Maybe you’d even light a candle."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) p in v sex, very mild dom/sub dynamics, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, cum play kinda, if I missed anything please let me know!

AN: First time writing for Damien himself and honestly this was somehow more difficult to write than prof!Damien?? I kept writing dialogue and then being like he would NOT fucking say that. Anyway I hope this is to your liking!!

“Stay.” You wrapped your arms around Damien, words coated in sleep as you tried to trap him under the blanket you had cloaked over yourself.

“I want to.” He didn’t brush you off, letting you linger next to him, arms around his waist while he sat on the foot of the bed tying his shoes.

“Then you should.” You didn’t whine, didn’t even really put much thought into the tired pleads you emitted; this is just what you always did when he went to work in the morning. You knew he couldn’t stay, you understood that he had a job to do and that he would be back later—you weren’t stupid, you just wanted to keep him in bed with you, selfishly tuck him away and keep him all to yourself.

He stood up, leaning over you and offering you a kiss on the cheek, and you hummed, turning your face quickly to capture his lips in yours.

“Stay.” Now you were whining.

“I’ll be back so soon,” he cupped your cheek in his hand before giving you one more kiss, “Won’t even know I’m gone.”

“Liar,” you quipped, and he shot you a playful scowl. You smiled back at him. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he made a show of fixing the blanket that had exposed your feet while you were trying to coax him back into bed, “Go back to sleep.”

~~~

You woke up a few hours later, puttering around and trying to keep yourself busy; it was always the worst when he had work and you yourself had nothing to see to—no work to do, no plans to attend, just a day completely to yourself.

In theory, it sounded nice, but there were only so many ways to keep yourself occupied in a way that didn’t make you feel semi-useless. You couldn’t just resort to doom-scrolling or napping, it just made you feel guilty for doing nothing of substance.

Some hours later, after flicking through channels of near-unwatchable cable TV and spending more time than you probably ever had with the cats, you figured you had the time to take a shower—a nice one, long and steamy and relaxing. Maybe you’d even light a candle.

You gently coaxed Zelda off your lap, getting up to walk down the hall and to the bathroom, turning the water on. You stripped yourself of the pajamas you still wore from the previous night.

With the water now running at the right temperature, you let yourself acclimate to the feeling of it hitting your skin, letting the warmth soak your hair and trail down your spine until the droplets circled the drain.

When you heard Damien call your name, you jumped a little. You hadn’t heard him open the front door, too caught up in the heavy feeling of the steam that had begun to surround you and the ricocheting echo of the water hitting the bottom of the tub.

“Showering!” You called out, and you heard him shuffle down the hall to find you. He peeked behind the shower curtain.

“Oh my God, you’re naked!” He feigned shock at the sight, and you flicked at him, letting the water on your fingertips fly towards his face.

“You look like you’re about to murder me, Psycho-style.” You wrung water from your hair, watching him blink off the water drops that had landed on him.

“Baby, don’t say that —you’re a final girl if there ever was one.” He backed away from the shower curtain, leaving you to your own devices.

“You’re not coming in?” You called after him, and you heard the sound of his footsteps come to an abrupt halt.

“I’m invited?” He called back to you from down the hall.

“Come.” You confirmed, moving the shower curtain out of your way to watch him come rushing back into the bathroom. You’ve never seen anybody undress so quickly, and you made a mental note to remind him to pick up his socks from the hallway when you were both less distracted.

Not even the silken water from the shower could compete with the feeling of Damien’s skin on yours; the heat that radiated off of him got under your skin and engulfed you with comfort as he pulled you close the moment he stepped into the shower with you.

“I hate leaving you in the morning,” he ran a hand down your side, watching how the water beaded and dripped down your skin, “but I do love getting to come home to you.” You anchored yourself to him when he kissed you, hands gripping his arms as they wrapped around your body. It was almost embarrassing how needy you were for him after only a few hours apart, but you couldn’t think of anything but him now that he was back in front of you.

His tongue licked into your mouth, occasionally catching drops of water that fell over your faces when you broke away just long enough. You placed a hand gingerly on his chest, putting no pressure on it so he wouldn’t part from you, and trailing it down his body until you could wrap your fingers around the base of his cock. He groaned quietly into your mouth, and you felt yourself break out in small goosebumps, the warmth of the water combating your building excitement and pride.

Your strokes were slow; you felt him stiffen in your hand, paying attention to the tip of his cock, jerking your wrist in a circular motion. His hands found purchase on your ass, squeezing and kneading the plush skin and earning a moan from you—something about letting him touch you like this, the water bouncing off your back, steam circling your feet while you leisurely jerked him off made you feel so eager for him.

“Missed you so much today,” you breathed out, and he dipped his head down to suck marks onto your chest. His hands guided you against the wall, and the cold tiles sent a shiver down your spine, arching your back. You removed your hand from his length, placing your arms on his shoulders and weaving your fingers behind his neck.

“Mm,” he released you from his mouth momentarily, licking the deep purple spot he had made on your skin, “I missed you, too.”

“I couldn’t tell.” You goaded him, earning a quick smack to the side of your thigh as he took one of your nipples in his mouth.

“No?” He straightened himself back up, looming over you now, and you felt completely at a loss for words, too enamored of him to think of a reply. His hand came up to your mouth, and you opened, letting him dip in two of his fingers to the knuckle. He removed them slowly, letting you coat them with your spit, before he dropped his hand to your cunt and rubbed gently over your clit. You inhaled sharply, trying to keep your composure when he pushed both fingers inside of you. Damien breathed deeply, fingers rhythmically pushing in and out of you, and he savored the way you pulsed around him.

“Can you tell now?” He smiled with his top teeth, and you felt your pulse pick up when he pushed against the spongy spot inside of you with precision. You managed a quiet moan, and he continued to curl his fingers gently. “I figured.”

You gripped one of his shoulders, your other hand limply grasping his wrist. “Damien,” you whined when his thumb ghosted over your clit, “fuck me.”

“Is that what you want?” He was having entirely too much fun playing with you like this, your wet hair sticking to your skin, bottom lip trembling—you looked so beautiful, he couldn’t help the urge he felt to watch your face contort with pleasure from just the short thrusts of his fingers.

You nodded, and he stalled for a moment, scissoring his fingers inside of you just to watch you squirm, before pulling them out and licking them off. When his hand fell back at his side, he leaned forward. He had you crowded against the wall, and you kissed him fervently.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groaned, reaching to get hold of your leg and pull it over his waist. “Jump.” He grabbed your hips, letting you hook both legs around him. He nipped at your collar bone while you both adjusted to the position.  

“Comfortable?” He touched his forehead to yours, breath fanning your face.

“Yeah,” you mewled, “please.”

“Please?”

“Please, fuck me,” you squeezed your thighs around him, “need you. Don’t tease.”

“Wasn’t teasing,” he played innocent, shifting his weight to fist his cock, smacking it against your clit, “Just wanted to clarify.” He pulled his hips back, lining himself up with you before slowly pushing into your waiting cunt. You whined at the familiar pressure you felt in your stomach and tried desperately to push your own hips forward onto him, to feel him in his entirety. Fully sheathed inside of you, his head tilted back, relishing in the feeling of how tightly you squeezed his cock. His hair was soaked, and you watched water fall over his face and chest as he pulled back and began driving into you.

“Oh my God, you feel so good,” he groaned after a long stroke, pushing you further against the wall.

“There—so good, Damien, fuck, you feel so good,” you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, planting lazy kisses against his lips, unable to pay close attention to anything other than the stretch of your pussy around him and the way the hair of his happy trail brushed against your clit with each roll of his hips. “Deeper,” you begged, needy for more, “Harder.”

“Fuck,” he maneuvered one hand under your ass, allowing the other hand the freedom to roam down your body to your clit. He ground his hips against yours. “Deep like this, baby?”

You whimpered, pulling at his wet hair, your other hand scratching sluggishly at his back. He could take a hint; pulling out until just the tip of his cock was nestled inside of you, he gave your clit a bit more attention, rubbing tight circles, before ramming himself back into you repeatedly, never breaking the synchronous tempo of his thrusts with the patterns he drew on your clit.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good—is this what you wanted? Needed it rough?” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard against your skin while he satisfied the both of you.

You were certain you were screaming, but nothing more than raspy moans could find their way out of your mouth. Your head leaning against the wall, you arched your back into Damien’s thrusts.

“Please, please, please,” you couldn’t form any more words, trying to catch your breath to think of what exactly it was you were pleading for; “Wanna cum for you.”

“You wanna cum for me, baby?” He growled, voice low and clearly feeling the same buzz of adrenaline you were, “Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

You nodded frantically, mouth agape and eyes closed when you finally teetered and fell over the edge; you felt Damien twitch inside you, paired with a loud moan and harsh shove of his hips as he spilled into you. He gave a final few thrusts, watching the way you convulsed around him, both of you sighing in satisfaction when he pulled out. He helped you find your footing, hand falling over your lower back and letting you cling to him as your legs trembled. He turned off the water and, pulling back the shower curtain, removed a towel off its hanger, draping it over you.

“Did so good,” he kissed the top of your head while he patted you down with the soft fabric.

You looked up at him, eyes heavily lidded, the crown of your head fitting perfectly under his chin. “Felt so good.”

He tilted your chin up, giving you a soft kiss before he picked you up and carried you bridal style to your room.

“I’m all sticky…and drippy,” you muttered.

“Oh, have you not had the talk?” He laughed at his own joke, and you rolled your eyes, letting your head loll back against his arm where it was tucked under your neck. He dipped you down onto the mattress, and you were about to get back up, wipe the excess from between your legs and grab something to sleep in, when Damien’s hands wrapped around your ankles, pulling you down the bed towards him.

You giggled, playfully kicking your legs at him, careful to not actually let any of the movements connect to his body. He kneeled down, putting your legs over his shoulders.

“Damien…”

“What? You said you were sticky. I’m helping,” he licked a stripe over your core, not wanting to waste any time. “You taste so good; can you blame me?”

You didn’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting to bury your fist in his hair and bring him back towards your cunt. Even as spent and tired as you were, you would never deny the opportunity to see him between your legs, cleaning up the mess you’d made together.

“So impatient,” he chided, before giving in to your physical persuasion and burying his face against you; you jumped at the friction of his stubble on your inner thighs, but the drag of it against you only added to the bliss.

He worked his tongue into your hole, licking into you as best he could and delighting in the taste of you. He kissed over your clit before taking it between his lips, keeping it sealed in his mouth while his tongue drew shapes over it. You moaned, hips rising from the bed, and he wrapped his hands around your thighs to hold you still, closer to his face, pushing himself in further to savor the pleasure that was the taste of your cunt. His own cum leaked out of you and onto his tongue, and he licked the remnants off of your thighs, thorough in his bid to clean you off.

You looked down, making eye contact with him between your legs, and you saw him smile with his eyes. His tongue darted over your clit, mercilessly overstimulating you, not letting up for even a moment to catch his breath, and he knew you were cumming when he felt your legs tremble around his head, your fist yanking on his hair, chanting his name softly while you shivered. He moaned against your sensitive cunt, obsessed with the sounds you made for him and the tangy flavor of your wet on his tongue. He licked down your entrance, letting your slick collect on his tongue, drawing out your high for as long as he could. Selfish as it may be, he loved watching you unravel for him, and he continued to tease your entrance, letting your cum paint his lips.

He crawled up the bed, perching himself above you, and his hand rested against your lower jaw, prompting you to open your mouth. You obliged, and he spit, letting it fall to the back of your throat. You swallowed, humming at the taste—your own and his, something so perfectly curated. He kissed you, slow and gentle, and just as passionate as always.

“I must taste so fucking good,” you joked, hand draped over his neck.

He smiled down at you. “Oh, you have no idea.” He kissed you again, before rolling over on his side to sweep you into him. “I wish I could’ve just stayed home with you all day.”

“Me too,” you mumbled against his chest, feeling tired and perfectly sated.

He kissed your forehead, “I don’t have to go into work at all next week.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay in bed with me all morning?”

“I plan on it.”

You closed your eyes, letting the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed next to you act as a sort of lullaby. You think you whispered something about how he needed to pick his socks up from the floor of the hallway, but you weren’t sure, and you didn't really care; you were just happy to be home with him.

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smosh pit #smosh games #smoshblr

[girl-with-an-orange-cat]

First EVER fanfiction. Long time reader though. This came out of a joke on a group chat about a person posing without underwear on.

Please note this is COMPLETELY FICTIONAL and is taking a lot of liberties with personas portrayed on camera.

Anyway enjoy. Pt.2 coming soon.

You're on set as a PA and you're one of the few crew members who have yet to be shown on camera. You're slightly relieved at this and the cast all know it.

Shayne has made it his running joke with you to make seem like you've been caught on camera doing something ridiculous, "oooooh you'll NEVER guess what we found on the last edit session!" was usually followed by something you had done on set that day which caused your anxiety to flare.

Thankfully he was usually distracted by something Courtney said or Damien interrupting to grab your attention. They both knew you wouldn't be able to handle much more of Shaynes jokes and didn't want to see you get embarrassed at work.

Today you're on set because it's the promo shoot for Smosh's sleep over. You know a lot of vlogs are happening behind the scenes and you're doing your best to stay hidden while getting work done. "Hey! Uh, can I get a dressing gown or something?" You hear from Damien inside the bathroom. You're the only one nearby so you knock on the door and ask what's up?

"Oh, uh *name* nothing, nothing's up. I just feel a little exposed" he swings open the door to show his sleepover attire. Nothing exposed or showing from what you can see, but Damien has a slight blush growing up his neck to his cheeks.

"You look fine to me, uh great even, very sleep appropriate."

He nods and makes his way to the stage where it's been dressed to look like the sleepover set. While his back is turned you take a moment to look him over. To make sure everything is where it is meant to be, only to see he has his mic pack on the back of his pants and its weight is dragging the flannel down a little.

"Damien, wait! Your package!" You say, admittedly a little louder than normal. He stops to look at you confused as you rush to him and grab at the pack.

"You won't need this and it'll mess up the shot" you say, pulling at the cord. While you do this your hand is brushing his hip and tummy, not the first time this has happened. However, his flannel pants aren't sturdy enough to take the weight of the pack and the movement causes you to see that he has gone without his underwear.

You're doing everything to keep your breath steady and remain professional as you try and lighten the tension you suddenly feel with a joke. "Is this, uh, is this why you wanted a robe?"

#damien haas #smosh #smosh games #jesus fucking fuck #damien haas imagine #damien haas x reader #damien haas photoshoot #imagine #smosh games imagine #smosh fic #smosh fanfiction

[knollridge]

Last Saturday

Smosh

Damien x Reader

1,090 wordcount

No warnings, just more Smoffice™ fluff

Last Damien fic! This was def an extended quarantine project for me and I had a lot of fun trying something new :) I more than appreciate all the love I’ve gotten in likes, reblogs, comments, and asks! Perhaps I’ll be back in the future with a different person. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!!!!

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Damien eyes you up and down with amusement as you work at your desk, your foot bouncing along to your “Get Sh!t Done” playlist while you try to concentrate on the screen in front of you. Your hand idly taps a pencil to the beat and your head begins to bop along to the music starting to take over your thoughts.

Nothing would have been able to throw off your groove until you met Damien’s gaze. Your mini jam session slows to a halt as you look up, finding a wide smile and eyes that - while encouraging you to go on - made you self-conscious enough to stop. It wasn’t any easier having a hot guy stare at you, even if he was your boyfriend.

“Aw, why’d you stop?” Damien asks gently with a hint of mischief in his tone. “A few more songs and I think you would have been dancing like you did on Saturday.” He nonchalantly takes leave from his desk and gives you a quick peck on the forehead before slipping behind you to grab a cup of coffee. The feeling from his words and his lips on your temple leaves your cheeks blushed and your body warm. Thank goodness no one else is in here right now.

“You know what, regardless of what I did or did not do on Saturday, I don’t think you should be proclaiming that around the office” you retort, in only the smallest of annoyances. It was rare that either of you went out, much less stayed out, to party - but Courtney’s birthday was a special exception. And maybe things got a little more exciting than you cared to remember...but that doesn’t mean he gets to say anything about it. “Besides,” you calmly posit under a small smile, “I think I can recall a certain someone moving like a mid-40s, suburban father of three on the dance floor and crashing like one when we got home ‘cause he can’t handle his liquooorrr.” Your sing-songy teasing causes a tinge of red to appear under Damien’s collar as he rolls his eyes.

“Agghh alright true,” he concedes with a smile as he pulls up behind you with one hand on your shoulder. “Buuuut,” he continues while lowering his face to speak softly into your ear, “as much as I’m hearing you loved my dancing, I can bet you I definitely loved your moves more.” His entire presence seems to be whisked away as his voice and touch leave you, sitting back down at his desk and giving you a wink that makes you want to melt before diving right back into his work. Well somebody’s in a rare mood today...I’m not complaining...there’s just no way I’ll be able to get anything done now...

You fidget with your pencil and try your hardest to focus on editing. With nothing nearly as inspiring hitting you as hard as Damien’s comment, you decide to take a quick break to regain your headspace.

“I think I’m gonna go get a snack from the other room, do you want anything?” you ask him as you stand up to leave.

“I’ll actually be there in a bit cause I need to grab some stuff, so I can get it myself. But thanks, I’ll be right behind you.” He smiles at you brightly and you nod in response before teasing him more.

“Ugh, why you so obsessed with me?” you ask with a dramatic eye roll and a playful smile. You can hear him pity laugh at your half-joke as you walk down the hall to the other room.

Relieved at the chance to take a break and regroup, you begin to peruse your food options while the song playing in your earbuds from before makes its way back into your consciousness. Moving a bit to the music you take your pick of what’s left on the breakfast table, making sure to mind your head of the cabinets above you. And as promised, Damien strolls in almost immediately with a packet of papers in hand.

“Oh my god, Damien! How long has it been, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” You flash a huge smile that nearly covers the trespass of that worn joke. Damien, thankfully in his good graces, replies accordingly.

“Oh my god (y/n)! I think it’s been the longest, barely 2 minutes of my life!” You both give each other tired smirks and you marvel at how hard he works on his comedy (and is genuinely the funniest person you know) and yet still indulges your lowbrow antics. “I finally finished my notes on this script so it’s time to crack open a cold one!” he says as he makes his way over to where you are.

“Good on you babe” you reply with general contentment that he remains so hot and so diligent. Still feeling the music flow through you and focused on which doughnut to get, you barely notice Damien’s muscular arm reaching over your head until you feel him tightly pressed right up behind your bent posture.

“Sorry babe it’s a bit of a squeeze, I just need to get into this cabinet....you don’t have to stop doing what you’re doing though.” The drop in his voice causes a brief horror to cross your face as you finally realize why this positioning felt so familiar:

Saturday.

The fear of anyone else in the office witnessing more than they did on that night jerks you upright, sending your head crashing into the cabinet above. Your body moves backwards in response to the blow, taking Damien down too, as you fall into him and he collapses on to the chair that forced the tight space in the first place. Holding your head, you find yourself sat on his lap with him grasping your waist, catching you. “Oh my gosh babe, are you okay???” The concern in his voice is matched with his hands turning you around, steadying you with one and gingerly feeling your forehead and scalp with the other.

“Goddamn….yeah, I’m fine” you sigh into a small chuckle as you struggle a bit to find your footing. Damien laughs with you and (and a little bit at you) but doesn’t let go and makes sure to watch your balance. You reassure him with a smile and he walks with his arm around you back to your desks.

Before you bite into your doughnut and resume work Damien quips, “Juuust like Saturday, huh babe?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, “just like Saturday.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfic #damien haas fic #damien x reader #damien haas x reader #smosh damien #damien smosh #damien haas fluff fic #damien haas fluff #damien haas smosh #smoffice #smoffice fluff fic #smoffice fluff romance #smosh fluff #smosh games damien