haebragi

[haebragi]

a spencer fic where viewers see spencer and reader slowly fall for each other in the videos :)

THE CUT BETWEEN TAKES | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone thought it was just classic Smosh chaos—banter, bits, and background glances—but over time, fans started to notice something in the videos. The way Spencer looks at you behind the scenes, how your laugh softens when he’s in the room, how your hands brush just a little too long. From editing bay giggles to unscripted flirting, your slow-burn romance unfolds on camera without anyone saying a word… until the soft launch hits the timeline and the internet loses it.

Word Count: 764

You expected chaos when you first joined the Smosh team as a content coordinator. What you didn’t expect was Spencer.

At first, it was just mutual politeness. You admired how calm he was while editing, his dry wit, and how he could be chaotic and grounded depending on the vibe. He respected how you handled cast logistics like a champ and how you never flinched when the fart gun reemerged for the third time in a week.

The fans first caught on during a Try Not To Laugh taping.

Spencer, normally calm and composed, cracked up mid-bit when you handed him a prop too early and whispered, “Go get ‘em, tiger,” under your breath. He laughed so hard he fell off his stool. The editors left the moment in. The comment section blew up.

“WAIT the way he looked at her after??” “Rewind to 3:12, HE’S GONE.” “Y’all. Spencer is whipped.”

It didn’t stop there.

In a Games video, you joined for a one-off sketch bit and accidentally roasted Spencer so hard that Shayne walked off set. Spencer laughed so genuinely that fans noticed again.

“Their banter is too natural.” “The way he looks at her while she’s talking omfg.” “SOMEONE MAKE A COMPILATION.”

Behind the scenes, things were slower. It started with shared lunches. Then came the “accidental” carpooling to off-site shoots. Then the inside jokes that didn’t even need words.

During an episode of Board AF, you sat off-camera, but when Spencer won the final round, he turned to the crew instinctively and said, “Did you see that, Y/N? Finally beat you in something.”

You hadn’t even played.

“Y/N??? So he’s talking about her even when she’s not on screen now???” “That was… domestic.” “I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP.”

Spencer didn’t say anything publicly. But in a Smosh Mouth episode months later, when asked who made him laugh the most off-camera, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/N. She’ll whisper the dumbest stuff right before I go on camera and completely derail me. It’s criminal, honestly.”

“HE’S SO IN LOVE.” “I feel like I’m watching a romcom in real-time.” “SOMEONE PUT THIS IN THE WIKI.”

When you finally appeared in a full sketch alongside him—playing his fake spouse in a parody infomercial—the chemistry was undeniable. You improvised a line about him not doing the dishes and he responded, “That’s because I was too busy admiring you.”

Everyone broke.

Even Shayne yelled off-camera, “SOMEONE KISS ALREADY.”

During editing for that same video, Spencer leaned over your shoulder, scrolling through clips with you. His arm brushed yours, lingering a little too long. You looked up and saw that look in his eyes, not just affection, but certainty.

“Wanna grab dinner after this?” he asked, soft and nervous.

You smiled. “Only if you let me win Mario Kart this time.”

He grinned. “No promises.”

A few weeks later, in a behind-the-scenes vlog posted to the Smosh channel, fans noticed a small detail. Just before the video ends, the camera pans across the editing bay. You and Spencer sit side by side, headphones off, laughing over something only the two of you heard. His hand finds yours under the table.

“WAIT. GO BACK. 7:32. HANDS???” “I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.” “Spencer and Y/N endgame. That’s it. That’s the post.”

And honestly? They weren’t wrong.

That night, without a word, Spencer posted to Instagram for the first time in months. One photo. A Polaroid of two mugs—yours and his—side by side on his coffee table. In the background: your knees curled under a blanket, barely visible, but unmistakable to those who’ve watched you in videos.

The caption?

soft launch loading… ☕️🎮🫶

Minutes later, you reposted it on your story with a sticker over the mugs that said: property of each other 💗

The internet lost its mind.

“HELLOOOOOO?????” “THEY’RE SOFT LAUNCHING—WE ARE IN THE TRENCHES.” “not me zooming in to confirm the blanket matches Y/N’s fit from the last Smosh video 💀”

Even the Smosh account commented,  “About time 😌”

On a chaotic Smosh Games stream, Damien grinned into the mic. “Hey Spence,” he said casually, “how’s the soft-launch going?”

Spencer—cool as ever—smiled and said, “Hard-launched her to my mom last weekend.”

The chat exploded.

“GOODBYE.” “WE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO BREATHE BETWEEN LAUNCHES.” “this is better than any romcom I’ve ever watched.”

And all Spencer did was glance off-camera, where you held a bag of snacks and laughed as you rolled your eyes.

Yeah. It was always going to be you.

[haebragi]

chihuahua-ass energy...

[haebragi]

some comfort soencer agnew :(

It’s okay, you can cry now.

pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader

a/n: OH WE’RE SO BACK SMOSHYOURHEADIN NATION!! i’ve missed y’all sooo much!!! kinda short but enjoy none the less 🫶 requests are open <3

as you lay on his bed, the sound of raindrops tap against the windows gently as you feel a tear roll down your cheek. his room is softly lit by the glow of the tv which is playing some shitty reality show, with plush blankets and pillows on his bed.

spencer and you met when your friend damien had invited you to be a guest speaker at his ‘funeral’ - where spencer made your sides hurt with how funny he was. from the moment you met him, there was an undeniable chemistry between you. over time, you and spencer started hanging out more, texting and calling, meeting up for coffee before he had to go to work, and you’d also started to convince damien to invite on the channel more often, as an excuse to see him - ian and anthony eventually hiring you to work on art and design.

despite the growing closeness, neither of you ever explicitly acknowledged the romantic tension that occasionally surfaced. your friendship had a mix of intimacy and comfort that neither of you wanted to jeopardize by labeling it. you were each other's confidants, sharing dreams, fears, and everything inbetween.

“hey there, y’okay?” spencer’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, as he walks into his room with two cans of sprite, seeing you blink away tears.

“um, yeah. no. i don’t know” you sit up and wipe your face, sniffling gently, and you cross your legs as he sits to face you on the end of his bed, your knees touching his.

“d’you wanna talk about anything?” he looks into your eyes, gaze soft but firm somehow.

“um,” you look away as you feel more tears forming, a lump creeping into your throat “i just... feel like i'm constantly running, trying to keep up with everything. the videos, the comments, the expectations. it's like... it's never enough, you know?"

spencer nods, his hand moving to rest atop yours. "i get it. this world can be overwhelming. but you don't have to face it alone. we're a team, remember?"

you squeeze his hand, finding a bit of strength in his touch. "i know, it's just... sometimes i feel like i'm letting everyone down. like i'm not good enough."

his eyes soften even more, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in a good way.

"you're more than enough. you bring so much joy and creativity to everything you do. and it's okay to feel overwhelmed. it doesn't mean you're failing."

you take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words. "i guess i just need to hear that sometimes. that it's okay to not be perfect."

spencer shifts closer, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. "no one expects you to be perfect. especially not me. i just want you to be you. because that's more than enough."

his words break something loose inside you, and the tears start to flow freely. spencer pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as you let out all the pent-up emotions. his embrace is warm and reassuring, a safe haven from the storm raging inside you. you inhale deeply, and notice he smells like old books and coffee,

“it’s okay, you can cry now” he says into you hair as you sob, his fingers gently brushing through you hair

after a while, you pull back slightly, looking up at him with gratitude. "thank you, spencer. for being here, for understanding."

he smiles, a small, comforting smile. "always. you mean a lot to me, y’know that?"

you nod, a small smile of your own forming. "you mean a lot to me too, spence."

he takes a deep breath, and for a moment, you see something flicker in his eyes.

you move yourself next to him, and lay your head on his shoulder, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, as you close your eyes, feeling content in the moment. the sound of the rain, the flickering light of the tv, and the steady beat of his heart lull you into a sense of calm.

and in that quiet moment, with the rain still pattering against the windows, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together.

[haebragi]

୨୧ — You were in the back of your flower shop arranging an elaborate wedding order when you heard it- a high pitched wail that made the fine hairs on your neck stand up. Your daughter's cry of distress was distinctive, even from a distance.

You dropped the roses you were trimming and moved towards the sound, only to collide with Sukuna who had materialized from nowhere, seemingly conjured by his daughter's cry. His entire body was tense, eyes scanning for threats, hands already forming into fists as he looks for his little girl.

"What. Happened." he demanded, voice dangerously low.

Before you could answer, your daughter came running around the corner, face streaked with fresh tears, breath coming in hiccupping sobs. The moment she spotted her father, she launched herself at him with the bling trust of a child who had never known anything but absolute protection.

Sukuna caught her easily, large hands lifting her as if she weighed nothing. His eyes continued to look around over her head, seeking for whatever had caused his daughter's distress.

"Tell me," he asked, the gentleness he forced into his voice at odds with the murderous look in his eyes, "what-" you saw how the muscles of his arms tightened, bracing himself for violence, "or who, made you cry."

She buried her face against his neck, her small body trembling, "Th-the c-clown," she managed between gut wrenching sobs. "Daddy... p-please make him g-go away!" her tiny fingers dug into his shirt, tears and snot smearing across his collar as she pressed herself impossibly closer, "He's sc-scary!"

Your shoulders sagged slightly with relief as you heard why your baby was crying. It wasn't a real threat... Which was good. The city festival had started yesterday, and performers of all kinds were wandering the streets, entertaining those who were out and about enjoying their day.

That relief died the moment you saw Sukuna's expression flicker through a range of emotions before settling on one you knew all too well: rage. 

"Where." The single word carried the weight of an execution order...

"O-outside," she hiccupped again, pointing with a shaky finger towards where the clown was making balloon animals, "D-daddy he made a b-alloon and it exploded in m-my face!" her voice hitched on another sob. Watery eyes locking onto his which were now glowing a brilliant crimson as he held her protectively against his chest- watching this painted fuck of a man who was now grinning broadly at the new wave of children. "H-he laughed at me crying..."

You stepped closer, hand settling on his arm trying to draw his attention to you- it was a lost cause… this you knew. The only thing he cared about in this moment was his daughter and the man who'd dare to upset his flesh and blood...

"Don't." He said sharply.

"Sukuna, it's just a street performer. From the festival. She's not actually hur-"

The look he turned on you was arctic, the force of it freezing the words in your throat, "He. Made. Our. Daughter. Fucking. Cry." Each word was enunciated perfectly, a low snarl of fury, "And no one, makes my girls cry."

This wasn't the man who helped with bedtime stories. Nor the man who picked you up with one arm when your legs ached and held you tenderly against him… This was the man who had ripped out hearts, who'd torn men apart with his bare hands- a man who had no qualms about spilling blood in his wake. A ruthless, vicious tyrant who did not tolerate threats when it came to his family, even if it was just a street performer.

Your eyes flickered to your baby girl, her wails- her tiny voice cracking each time she tried to speak… You decided that if the man had scared her that badly, then he had it coming… Right?

"Go," your voice was gentle, "Do what you do best-" you leaned up, placing a gentle kiss to his jaw, "and keep us safe."

The smile that graced his lips was dark, twisted, a hint of madness dancing across his handsome face as his gaze turned back to the clown who was oblivious to the fate that was about to befall him.

"Stay with your mother," Sukuna's voice was soft- a rare tone reserved only for the two of you as he began peeling her arms from his neck.

"NO!!!" she shrieked, clinging tighter, fresh panic washing over her, "D-don't leave me, daddy!!" Her voice was filled with genuine terror, "Y-you can't go! You can't!"

Sukuna struggled internally- a war between the father he'd become wanting to stay by her side and continue holding her until she was calm, and the monster he's always been, demanding retribution.

He stroked her hair once, "I'm not leaving you... Just going to make the painted fuck go away."

"Sukuna," you warned, "I know I'm backing you on this but…" you glanced towards the clown, "it's a children's entertainer doing his job in the middle of the day. There's a lot of people here… You can't just walk up to him and-"

"I know exactly what i'm going to do," he cut you off, finally transferring her to your arms despite her desperate protests.

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever it takes." He was already moving toward the front door of your shop, shoulders set, a confident stride in his steps, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression darkening the further he walked away from the two of you.

Your daughter pressed her face against your cheek, "Is daddy going to make the bad man go away?" she whispered, her arms locking around you, fingers tangling in your hair, "Daddy always makes the scary things go away."

"Yeah, sweetie," you murmured, watching Sukuna through your shop window, "he does doesn't he?" you nuzzle into her, bouncing her once, "Your daddy is always there to shield us, and to take care of us… even when it comes to the small things."

"Uh huh," she sniffled, wiping her eyes, "Daddy's strong."

You smiled at that, "The strongest," you agreed.

Through the glass, you watched him step onto the sidewalk, his presence immediately carving a path through pedestrians who recognized him. Even from this distance, you could see the exact moment the clown sensed death approaching. His hands faltered on the half twisted balloon, painted smile freezing as something screamed in his brain, danger.

In one fluid motion, Sukuna draped an arm around the clown's shoulders. The balloon that had been moments from becoming a dolphin slipped from his hands, squealing as it flew into the air and landed on the pavement.

"Hey, buddy," Sukuna said loudly, his voice pitched for the benefit of the parents and children nearby, dripping with absolute false warmth... "My little girl loved your act. Mind if we get a private performance?" Without waiting for consent, he tightened his grip around the clown's neck, steering him away from the crowd.

The clown stumbled alongside him, forced to move by Sukuna's iron control. To onlookers, they looked like old friends... No one noticing the clown's growing terror as they disappeared around the corner. 

The moment they were alone, Sukuna's mask shattered. He slammed the clown against the brick wall with enough force to crack the man's skull, leaving just the right amount of blood smeared behind as a reminder of his strength. One tattooed hand crushed his throat while the other gripped his jaw, forcing eye contact.

"Listen very fucking carefully you painted piece of shit," Sukuna growled, face inches away, "you made my daughter cry. You scared her. The last person who did that lost everything from the neck down."

The clown's eyes bulged, breathing ragged as Sukuna's grip slowly crushed his windpipe, "I-I-I'm sor-"

"I could kill you right here," Sukuna continued, voice dropping to a whisper that promised agony... "Peel you apart piece by piece. Feed what's left to the stray dogs behind the market." His grip tightened until the man's face began purpling, eyes rolling back. "No one would even notice you were gone until the smell got bad..."

Just as consciousness began slipping, your face flashed through his mind- that same soft, loving smile you always wore… And then his daughter… the way her little cheeks dimpled when she smiled at him, the trust she put in him. You were both waiting for him to return. He could almost hear your voice, feel your arms around him, your hands cupping his cheeks as his daughter clung to his pant leg…

Fuck…

Killing this guy would take forever… Longer than he'd like to be away from you both…

God dammit…

"But I'm feeling generous today," Sukuna released his throat, letting him suck in desperate air. Before the man could recover, Sukuna's fist buried itself in the man's stomach, folding him in half. "So i'm offering you a choice. Leave this city. Never work as a clown again. And if ever see your ugly face- painted or not… I'll carve a permanent smile from eat to ear," the tip of his finger dragged along the man's cheek, cutting a thin line through the makeup before forcing his chin up, "Do i make myself clear?"

The clown nodded frantically, tears cutting tracks through his makeup.

Sukuna's thumbnail dug into the corner of his mouth, "Answer me. With words. No nodding."

"Y-yes-" The clown managed, his voice hoarse, "yes. Pple-please... Yes. Th-thank you."

"Get out of my sight." he snarled, tossing him by the face to the ground.

Sukuna waited until the guy was out of sight before pulling the black bandana from his pocket, wiping the white greasepaint from his hands. Only then did he stroll casually back around the front, his face bored- neutral, the one he typically wore.

When he reentered, his eyes immediately sought out you and his daughter. The relief on his daughter's face when she spotted him made his heart tighten... He was .

"Problem solved," he announced, holding his arms out for her to transfer herself from your embrace to his without hesitation.

"What did you do?" you asked, your voice quite enough so that she couldn't hear.

His eyes met yours- and you smirked knowing the look...

The clown had survived, but only because killing him would have taken too long.

"Softie~" You chuckled, leaning against his arm.

"M'not," he muttered, pressing a kiss to his daughter's hair as her eyes fluttered shut, "Just had other things to do today…"

His daughter's tired voice rose from the crook of his neck, "Did you make the bad clown go away," she smiled sleepily, "just like you promised?"

"Yeah..." he whispered into his hair, "No one gets to scare you. Not while I'm around, little one."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As night fell you found Sukuna laying sprawled out on his daughter’s tiny bed, his large frame comically oversized for the child sized furniture. There on his chest, she was draped across him like a koala, fast asleep with one small hand still clutching his shirt. His tattooed arm curled around her, dwarfing her little body.

He wasn’t asleep. His eyes tracking your movements as you entered her room, alert as always, though his body remained perfectly still to avoid disturbing the little girl using him as a bed. 

"She wouldn't let go," he grumbled, his deep voice barely audible.

You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her hair from her face, revealing the peaceful expression of a child who felt completely safe.

"How violent did you actually get with the clown?" you asked quietly, your fingers lingering on your daughter's cheek.

Sukuna's eyes met yours in the glow of the turtle nightlight, unflinching, "Violent enough."

"You didn't kill him."

It wasn't a question, but he answered anyway, "No." His eyes flicked down to his daughter, then back to you. "Didn't need to. Yet."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken message. The "yet" was contingent on whether the clown was stupid enough to ignore Sukuna's warning.

"You know you're stuck here for the night, right?." you nodded toward her death grip on his shirt, "She won't let go of you, not even in her sleep."

"Yeah… I know. Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the fucking last." He sounded disgruntled, but you knew him well enough to catch the glimmer of contentment in his eyes, "This kid loves me too damn much."

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, then, to Sukuna's lips. He returned the kiss, teeth nipping at your lower lip, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your neck.

"She's not the only one," you say under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear, eyes locking onto his. "We're both so lucky to have you, Sukuna. Thank you, for everything. For taking care of us, and for being her protector."

He looked away, uncomfortable with the sentiment despite everything you'd been through together, "It's what I do," he replied gruffly...

You smiled, settling beside him, head pillowed on his broad shoulder, half your body hanging off the tiny bed as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to him best he could, "You're going to wake up with an achy back tomorrow."

"Don't give a damn," he grunted, pressing his face into the top of your head, "can't really move when I've got two brats sleeping on me."

You chuckle softly, letting your eyes flutter shut, enjoying his warmth, the steady sound of his heart beating under your ear and the soft sounds of your daughter's breathing, "You could, if you wanted."

"You done yapping? You're keeping me up… Go the fuck to sleep already." his arm tightened around you, holding you against him, his own eyes closing finally.

You smiled, knowing that he'd never admit he loved being in this position- surrounded by the two of you,

You caught one last glimpse of him adjusting his daughter more comfortably against his chest, his large hand cradling her head with impossible gentleness. The most feared man in the city, reduced to nothing more than a pillow for his daughter and her mother.

"Rest well, little lamb," his voice fading as he said the nickname reserved only for you, muffled by your hair as his lips grazed the crown of your head.

[haebragi]

Sukuna

Summary: It seems that Sukuna's daughter gets a lot of her traits from him.

Warnings: Fluff

What an attitude, who could she possibly get that from? Sukuna thinks to himself as he tells his toddler to clean up. It was just a simple request, yet the little girl huffs and puffs. She stomps her little feet as she walks over to fill up the toy chest.

“Fix your attitude!” Sukuna scolds her, yet she sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry. He can’t believe he’s bickering with a toddler– His own daughter dare he mention. He shouldn’t even be doing this. He should leave her with the mess and let you deal with it. It’s your mess anyway, you’re the one that wants a tidy house and all that shit.

“Don’t be a fucking brat!” He’s intimidating, he knows that. Everyone around him fears him, except this tiny creature that probably eats her own boogers. No matter how many times he raises his voice or threatens her favorite toys, she never backs down.

She yells some nonsense about not being a brat, barely understanding what the word means. It could be a good thing, but as long as she goes against what Sukuna says, she’s happy.

“You’re not even cleaning up, just making a mess!” Sukuna scolds her, getting involved and helping her in the task. 

“Fuck you!” She yells, and Sukuna freezes. His breath gets caught up in his chest as he slowly turns his head to look at his toddler. He feels a cold sweat flow through his body, heart palpitating at the mere thought of you hearing your daughter saying such a phrase.

It’s not just any phrase that she could pick up from the TV. It’s a phrase that she picked up from him. He’s as good as dead.

“Don’t say that.” He tries to remain calm, finally noticing that raising his voice won’t make the toddler listen. He adds, “It’s a bad word.”

“You say it.” And with her words it dawns on him that he’s the reason for her behavior. Her tiny brows meet in the middle in confusion.

“I’m an adult, princess. Don’t say that, period. Especially around your mommy.” Sukuna uses the nickname, one that he revokes the moment she gets all bratty. He hopes that with the change in behavior, she’ll listen. She gets all giggly, hiding her smile behind her tiny palms as she realizes that she has a way to get her daddy in trouble.

Before another word gets exchanged, the door to the playroom opens. Sukuna feels his palms sweaty, as if he were ready to face his death. He knows his toddler better than anyone– Dare he say better than you. He knows he’s done for.

“Mommy, mommy!” She yells, getting your attention. The smile on your face quickly fades when she says the two magic words, 

“Fuck you!”

[haebragi]

a spencer fic where viewers see spencer and reader slowly fall for each other in the videos :)

THE CUT BETWEEN TAKES | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Summary: Everyone thought it was just classic Smosh chaos—banter, bits, and background glances—but over time, fans started to notice something in the videos. The way Spencer looks at you behind the scenes, how your laugh softens when he’s in the room, how your hands brush just a little too long. From editing bay giggles to unscripted flirting, your slow-burn romance unfolds on camera without anyone saying a word… until the soft launch hits the timeline and the internet loses it.

Word Count: 764

You expected chaos when you first joined the Smosh team as a content coordinator. What you didn’t expect was Spencer.

At first, it was just mutual politeness. You admired how calm he was while editing, his dry wit, and how he could be chaotic and grounded depending on the vibe. He respected how you handled cast logistics like a champ and how you never flinched when the fart gun reemerged for the third time in a week.

The fans first caught on during a Try Not To Laugh taping.

Spencer, normally calm and composed, cracked up mid-bit when you handed him a prop too early and whispered, “Go get ‘em, tiger,” under your breath. He laughed so hard he fell off his stool. The editors left the moment in. The comment section blew up.

“WAIT the way he looked at her after??” “Rewind to 3:12, HE’S GONE.” “Y’all. Spencer is whipped.”

It didn’t stop there.

In a Games video, you joined for a one-off sketch bit and accidentally roasted Spencer so hard that Shayne walked off set. Spencer laughed so genuinely that fans noticed again.

“Their banter is too natural.” “The way he looks at her while she’s talking omfg.” “SOMEONE MAKE A COMPILATION.”

Behind the scenes, things were slower. It started with shared lunches. Then came the “accidental” carpooling to off-site shoots. Then the inside jokes that didn’t even need words.

During an episode of Board AF, you sat off-camera, but when Spencer won the final round, he turned to the crew instinctively and said, “Did you see that, Y/N? Finally beat you in something.”

You hadn’t even played.

“Y/N??? So he’s talking about her even when she’s not on screen now???” “That was… domestic.” “I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP.”

Spencer didn’t say anything publicly. But in a Smosh Mouth episode months later, when asked who made him laugh the most off-camera, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/N. She’ll whisper the dumbest stuff right before I go on camera and completely derail me. It’s criminal, honestly.”

“HE’S SO IN LOVE.” “I feel like I’m watching a romcom in real-time.” “SOMEONE PUT THIS IN THE WIKI.”

When you finally appeared in a full sketch alongside him—playing his fake spouse in a parody infomercial—the chemistry was undeniable. You improvised a line about him not doing the dishes and he responded, “That’s because I was too busy admiring you.”

Everyone broke.

Even Shayne yelled off-camera, “SOMEONE KISS ALREADY.”

During editing for that same video, Spencer leaned over your shoulder, scrolling through clips with you. His arm brushed yours, lingering a little too long. You looked up and saw that look in his eyes, not just affection, but certainty.

“Wanna grab dinner after this?” he asked, soft and nervous.

You smiled. “Only if you let me win Mario Kart this time.”

He grinned. “No promises.”

A few weeks later, in a behind-the-scenes vlog posted to the Smosh channel, fans noticed a small detail. Just before the video ends, the camera pans across the editing bay. You and Spencer sit side by side, headphones off, laughing over something only the two of you heard. His hand finds yours under the table.

“WAIT. GO BACK. 7:32. HANDS???” “I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.” “Spencer and Y/N endgame. That’s it. That’s the post.”

And honestly? They weren’t wrong.

That night, without a word, Spencer posted to Instagram for the first time in months. One photo. A Polaroid of two mugs—yours and his—side by side on his coffee table. In the background: your knees curled under a blanket, barely visible, but unmistakable to those who’ve watched you in videos.

The caption?

soft launch loading… ☕️🎮🫶

Minutes later, you reposted it on your story with a sticker over the mugs that said: property of each other 💗

The internet lost its mind.

“HELLOOOOOO?????” “THEY’RE SOFT LAUNCHING—WE ARE IN THE TRENCHES.” “not me zooming in to confirm the blanket matches Y/N’s fit from the last Smosh video 💀”

Even the Smosh account commented,  “About time 😌”

On a chaotic Smosh Games stream, Damien grinned into the mic. “Hey Spence,” he said casually, “how’s the soft-launch going?”

Spencer—cool as ever—smiled and said, “Hard-launched her to my mom last weekend.”

The chat exploded.

“GOODBYE.” “WE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO BREATHE BETWEEN LAUNCHES.” “this is better than any romcom I’ve ever watched.”

And all Spencer did was glance off-camera, where you held a bag of snacks and laughed as you rolled your eyes.

Yeah. It was always going to be you.

[haebragi]

need more damien haas x reader fics please. PLEASE.

[haebragi]

Boyfriend Angela core <3

[haebragi]

um uh

[haebragi]

Safe and Sound - Shayne and Damien x platonic! Oc

Description: When Darcy finds out she's pregnant, the only thing she could think to do was go to her best friends, Shayne and Damien.

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of teen pregnancy, descriptions of a panic attack, and an unstable relationship with mother. But don't worry, it's also very fluffy.

Notes: Hey guys, so this is obviously not a Spencer fic, but I thought I'd try something different. Oc, Shayne, and Damien are all 16/17, so we're going back in time. Anyway, I hope you like it, and if you'd like a part two set over ten years later (now), let me know. And if you want to see more platonic fics like this, leave a request :)

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Ten minutes didn't used to feel like a long time, but now it seemed like an eternity. Time slowed down in this little bathroom. Darcy sat on the cold tiled floor against the wall, picking at the skin around her fingernails. She'd always hated waiting, though. It was the worst part of anything.

It was strange to think this was happening in her family bathroom. The one in the house she grew up in. In the corner of the shower, there were tiles with little yellow cartoon ducks painted on them. They'd been there her whole life. Her parents never bothered to change it, and now they sat there taunting her.

At least, that's what her brain was telling her.

After a minute, Darcy looked at her watch and saw that it had been twelve minutes.

Her body involuntarily trembled as she slowly stood up. Now she was in eyesight of the scary little plastic stick. It sat on a piece of toilet paper on the sink, and just like the ducks, it taunted her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, just in case she could wake herself up out of this dream. But when she opened her eyes, she was still in her bathroom. Those stupid ducks were still staring at her.

And the pregnancy test was still awaiting her.

She took a deep breath.

It was probably nothing.

There was probably a sick bug going around.

It was probably just a false alarm.

She had a uterus. That must have meant sometimes she'd get phantom signs of pregnancy.

She reached out and picked up the test, flipping it over in her hand so she could see. Her eyes squinted at the blurry screen, and she saw two little pink lines against the white background.

Suddenly, everything felt numb. She knew what that meant.

She couldn't react. All she could do was stare at it.

The only thing she could think of to do was get some air. Quickly, she stuffed the test into her pocket.

She couldn't risk her parents finding it.

They weren't home yet, so she text her mom to say she was going out. She didn't know where to go, but anywhere other than her house would do.

She grabbed her jacket on the way out and locked the door behind her. It was about 5pm, and the Californian sun was just starting to set.

She walked along the pavement, hands in her jacket pockets, and she kicked at little loose stones on the ground. And she just kept walking.

She'd been out for almost two hours, wandering around in a daze. She didn't even realise how far she'd walked until she bumped into her best friend, Shayne. And that was when she realised she was outside his strange house/apartment thing he shared with three other people. One of them being her other best friend, Damien.

"Darce?".

She turned around to see the blond boy approaching her. He smiled. "Hey, what are you doing here?".

"I... don't know. I just- started walking."

He tilted his head, noticing the dazed look in her eyes. "Are you high?".

She shook her head. "No."

"Good." He chuckled. "Cause this would be a horrible first experience with weed."

She nodded slowly, fidgeting.

Her nervous ticks made him a little nervous. He didn't like the way her hands trembled.

"Darcy, is everything okay?".

She shook her head, nibbling at her bottom lip. "Uh... no, not really."

"You wanna come in?".

When she agreed, he was afraid that she wasn't steady on her feet, so he took her hand and led her to the door.

It was unusual for Shayne to be the only one home, but at the moment, she was glad for it.

Her face was chalk white, so he left to get her a glass of water. But by the time he returned, only a few minutes later, he found her on the floor. His eyes widened, leaving the water on the table, and without hesitation, he got on his knees in front of her.

"Hey, hey. What happened?". He softened his voice as he spoke to her.

A sob ripped through her throat in her attempt to explain. "I... I didn't mean for it to happen. I don't know how- Shay, I don't know."

She was starting to hyperventilate, and although he was confused, he tried his best to calm her down.

"Shh, shh. It's okay. Don't try to speak. Just, uh... let's take some breaths."

He pulled her into him as he moved to sit beside her. Then he took an exaggerated breath.

"There, feel that? Try and focus on that."

Warm tears continued to steam down her cheeks as she rested her head on his shoulder and tried to follow his breathing pattern. When she eventually started doing it, he smiled.

"There you go. You got it."

He rubbed her back as she calmed down enough to talk properly.

She sat up to look at him. His blue eyes softened. "Wanna tell me what's wrong? Do I need to kick someone's ass?".

She chuckled a little, shaking her head. "No. Well... maybe."

She sighed. "I... I'm pregnant."

That, he wasn't expecting. "What?".

She shrugged. "I'm still kinda asking that myself."

"Wha- when did... how?".

Just then, the front door opened, and the two of them quietened. But it was only Damien.

"Hey, I- Oh, hi Darcy." He seemed to sense the tension in the room and he furrowed his eyebrows, now that he saw they were on the floor.

"What's going on?".

Shayne looked at her, and she nodded, letting him know it was okay for Damien to know.

"Well, I... I'm pregnant."

His jaw dropped. "Wha- are you serious?".

She nodded, pursing her lips.

"Wait, when did this happen? With who?".

Shayne sighed. "Okay, why don't we go in my room? I don't know when our other roommates will be back, and we can talk in there."

"Okay." She replied quietly.

While Damien helped her up off the floor, Shayne grabbed the water from earlier, and they all headed into his room, which was attached to the living area.

His room always made her chuckle. It reminded her of a greenhouse with the sun roof, no air conditioning and cement walls. It was comical how different it was to the rest of the house. He had done as much as he could to make it a comfortable space, but her mind always resorted back to the fact that the wall his bed was against was the neighbour's fence wall.

He lived outside.

She sat on his bed, Damien took up residence on his desk chair, and Shayne sat beside her.

"So... how did this happen?".

"Well, remember when I told you there was this guy at my school having a party at his house a few weeks ago?".

"Yeah."

"I thought you ended up leaving early."

"I did, just... not by myself. I spent the whole night with another guy from my school called Ryan. We got bored and went for a walk. I ended up having my first kiss with him, and then... one thing led to another, and we went back to his place since his parents were out of town."

Damien tilted his head curiously. "Darcy, I don't mean to be insensitive or disrespectful. But did you guys use protection?".

She nodded. "We did, and I thought it would be fine. But a week later, I randomly got sick one morning. I didn't think anything of it until I realised last week that my period was late and started feeling nauseous. So... I decided to make a doctor's appointment."

"So, your mom knows?".

She shook her head. "No, I just made it seem like I wanted to get a checkup. She was working, so I went myself. I still didn't think I was pregnant. I just thought my body was getting used to an irregular period or something. But after doing a few tests, they prescribed me a pregnancy test."

"So, when did you take it?".

"Earlier today."

She unzipped her jacket and took the plastic stick out of her hoodie pocket, revealing it to them.

Shayne chuckled, amused. "You've just been carrying it about with you?".

She shrugged. "I didn't know what else to do."

"It could be a false positive, you know. Did you pee on the stick right?".

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Well, Damien, if you can figure out a better way to do it, let me know."

She sighed. "I don't think it is considering I've thrown up more times this week than I have my whole life, and my period is now three weeks late."

Shayne rubbed her arm soothingly. "What are you thinking about doing?".

"I don't know." She muttered. "I'm terrified. This wasn't supposed to happen."

She pulled her knees up to her chest and then rested her chin on her arm. The boys exchanged looks between them.

"I don't know what to do. My mom and dad are gonna kill me. Do I tell Ryan?".

"Well...". Shayne sighed. "No matter what happens, we'll be here for you."

"Yeah." Damien smiled. "Whatever you decide to do."

She smiled slightly. "Thanks, guys."

"Here, you should probably drink this now." Shayne handed her the glass of water, and she gently took it from him. "Thank you."

As she took a sip, she sighed. "I can't make this decision on my own."

"Hey, you're not on your own, okay? That's never gonna happen."

That night, she stayed with them and whenever she did that, she always slept in Shayne's room and he normally took the couch, but after Damien retired to bed, she didn't want to be left alone and he stayed up with her, distracting her the best he could.

"Do you think I should tell Ryan?".

He sighed. "I don't know, Darce. Honestly, but is he a good person?".

"I mean, he's nice, and I do like him. But I don't want to pressure him into anything."

"I get that."

"I don't know if I'm even going to keep it."

His expression softened, and he squeezed her hand. "Hey, that's up to you, okay? No one else can make that decision for you."

Tears filled her eyes. "Shayne, I can barely take care of myself. I can't take care of a baby."

"Darcy, please listen to me. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Sometimes, you can't stop these things from happening, and that's okay. It's not your fault. And if you decide you don't want to, all of this will stay between us and Damien."

She sighed. "I need to tell my mom."

"Do you want me to be there when you do?".

"No, that's okay. But thank you."

He smiled. "I'll do anything I can to help you, okay? I won't let you go through this alone."

"You mean that?".

"Of course. You're like a sister to me, I'd do anything for you."

_________

The next day was a long one. But eventually, she couldn't keep it from her mom anymore and had to tell her. She told her everything that she told Shayne and Damien, and she reacted exactly the way she thought.

At first, she thought it was a joke. When she realised it was real, she was angry. Darcy had never seen her mother look so furious before. That brought on a huge argument between them, which ended with her mom screaming at her to get out.

But it was what she was expecting, so she couldn't be too shocked. It just hurt. She managed to grab some clothes and stuff from her room, packed it in a bag, and left as soon as she could. Then she headed back to Shayne and Damien's.

She knocked on the door, and her blond friend opened it. He was about to ask how it went when he looked down and noticed the bag at her feet.

"She kicked me out."

Shayne nodded, opening his arms to offer a hug, which she gladly accepted.

"You okay?".

"Yeah, I mean, it's not what you want. But... it's kinda what I was expecting anyway."

He pulled away to look at her and gave her a small smile.

"We can figure something out. Don't worry. Wanna come in and watch a Disney movie?".

She nodded. "Desperately."

He knew her so well.

After a while, the two of them settled on the couch, and Shayne put on Finding Nemo for her.

"Thank you, Shay." She said quietly.

It wasn't a big thing, but to her, it meant a lot that he seemed to accept the situation for what it was and just went along with it.

"It's okay."

Damien had been upstairs in his room for most of the days answering calls for his customer service job. Eventually, he came down and said hi to Darcy before going into the kitchen, only to pop back out after a second.

"Uh... Shayne, did you know someone was in there?".

"What?".

"Oh... cool. Okay, that's good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Wait, who's in there?" Darcy asked, sitting up to look at him over the back of the couch.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I've never seen him before in my life."

This random guy then emerged from the kitchen, giving Damien a nod before heading upstairs. Darcy giggled at the bewildered expression on his face.

"Kinda fucked up that we don't know who actually lives here with us."

Shayne chuckled. "You wanna watch Finding Nemo with us?".

"Uh... sure, I guess. Let me just grab a drink first."

Shayne pressed pause on the DVD player remote to wait for him.

He soon joined them, sitting on the other side of Darcy as Shayne pressed play.

"Damien."

"That's me." He replied, turning his head to look at her. "What's up?".

"Is it okay if I lean against you?".

He smiled softly. "Yeah, of course."

Shayne shook his head at the two of them, turning his attention back to the movie. He very much enjoyed the fact he knew Damien was inwardly over the moon as she leaned into his side and rested her head against his shoulder.

She knew as long as she had both of her boys with her, she'd be okay.

___________

[haebragi]

All the Time In the World - Spencer x reader

Description: When y/n gets overwhelmed at work, it turns out all she needs is her boyfriend, Spencer.

Warnings: It's really fluffy, my guys. Idk what else to tell you

Notes: I honestly don't know why my brain came up with this, but I think it's really cute. So, enjoy :)

__________

It felt like the whole world was against her. Nothing was going right. She was overwhelmed, and her head was spinning. She felt like she could break down at any moment, and she didn't want to cry in front of people. Not that she thought anyone would judge her, but it was a particularly rough day, and the only person she wanted to see was Spencer. She wasn't sure what exactly he could do while they were at work. All she knew was that she needed him.

Walking into the games set, she spotted Spencer talking to Alex about something. She hesitated in the doorway for a moment, watching as he laughed at something Alex said. She didn't want to bother him or take attention away from his job. But the pressure she felt building in her chest was getting too much for her to handle. With a quiet sigh, she entered the room and made her way over to him.

She waited until they'd finished talking before tapping Spencer on the shoulder. He turned around, and his expression lit up with a bright smile upon seeing her.

"Fancy seeing you here."

Her own smile didn't quite reach her eyes the way it normally did, which Spencer took notice of.

"Hey." She said quietly.

He tilted his head. "Is everything okay?".

"Yeah, I just...". Remembering that Alex was still in the room with them, she refrained from taking his hand. "Can I talk to you?".

"Oh... uh, yeah. Sure."

The two of them left the set, and after checking that no one was around, her hand gently grasped onto the sleeve of his hoodie, which only concerned him more.

She led him to an empty conference room that no one ever used. Spencer shut the door behind him, then opened his mouth to speak.

"So, what-".

He didn't get to finish his sentence before she put her arms around him and rested her head on his chest. The softness of her action abruptly silenced him and inwardly melted his heart. When he recovered, his arms wrapped around her waist.

He held her close to him, sensing that this was a moment she needed her boyfriend and not just her coworker. And for that, he couldn't care less about anyone seeing them.

"You okay?". He asked, his voice soft.

She shook her head. "No."

"What do you need from me, honey?".

"I don't know. I need the world to stop spinning for a second. I... I just want you to hold me."

"Okay... okay, come here." He muttered.

He pulled away from her only for a second to take her hand. Then he moved to lean against the conference table, and he gently manoeuvred her in a way that had her standing in between his legs so that he could pull her closer to him.

She reached up to put her arms around her neck, prompting him to move his around her waist, allowing her to bury her face into the soft material of his hoodie. He kissed her head just as warm tears started to fall down her cheeks.

Rubbing her back soothingly, he hums. "What's going on, hm?".

"I'm overwhelmed." The crack in her voice gave away the emotions she was feeling, and Spencer nudged her to look at him.

"Honey, can you look at me?".

"No."

"Please?".

Reluctantly, she did as told, picking her head up to look at him. He frowned, watching a tear run down her cheek. Something inside him instinctively kicked in, and suddenly, nothing else mattered to him more than making sure she was okay.

"Well, that's understandable. It's been a busy week."

"I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it's okay."

"No, it's not. Spencer, I'm taking your attention when you should be focusing on your job."

"Hey, if you need me, it doesn't matter what I'm doing, I'll come running."

A few more tears slipped down her cheeks, and his expression softened as he wiped them away with his thumbs. He soothed the sticky skin under her eyes, stroking her cheek.

She sighed. "I got overwhelmed because everything seemed to be going wrong, and then when I thought about going to you, I panicked. I still don't want everyone to know about us, but the more I thought about it, the more I just wanted you."

"Yeah?".

She nodded.

"Y/n, listen to me, okay? You have me. Under any circumstances, if you need me, I'm there."

He smiled softly. "Hi, I'm Spencer; your boyfriend. I kinda take that stuff seriously."

"Thank you." She sighed, letting out a breathy chuckle.

He gently kissed her head. "Feel better?".

She nodded, closing her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder. His arms tightened around her again, sensing that she wasn't ready for him to let go of her. He wasn't planning on it anyway.

"Spen, aren't you worried someone could come in and see us?".

"Are you kidding? No one even remembers this room exists. We're fine, honey."

"They're probably looking for us."

He hums. "Are you ready to go out there yet?".

"No."

"That's what I thought."

She rolled her eyes playfully but knew he was right.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time, barely saying anything. It was nice and being close to him like this was soothing. Which was strange to her because physical touch was not one of her love languages. But maybe it was with Spencer. It was like she didn't know how to let go of him. He didn't seem to mind. He was happy to sit there for as long as she needed him. But eventually, she had to part with him.

He looked at her with a soft expression on his face.

"You don't wanna leave yet, do you?".

She sighed quietly. "No, but I guess we've been gone long enough."

He shook his head. "We're not going anywhere, y/n."

"What?".

"At this precise moment, I don't really care what's going on out there. They can wait."

If she thought it wasn't possible for her to love him anymore, she was wrong. She didn't say anything, but the relieved sigh that came out of her told him everything he needed to know.

No, it wasn't professional. Yes, realistically, any of their coworkers could walk in and find them. But he didn't care. If she wanted him to stay here with her, he would.

He rubbed her arm a little, letting her lean against him. He was pretty much stabilised on the table behind him anyway.

"Can I ask what stressed you out initially?".

"I was editing a video." She replied, making him hum softly. "Yeah, that'll do it."

"I ended up getting frustrated because I couldn't figure out what was going wrong, and I may have accidentally taken it out on Tommy. I didn't mean to. He just happened to approach me when I was feeling things. I should apologise to him."

"I'm sure it's okay." He gave her a small smile.

"I still have to say sorry."

"Later." He replied, leaning in to kiss her. He couldn't help it. When his lips touched hers, she gladly accepted it, and he could feel her smiling.

Miraculously, he had managed to calm her down with relative ease, and that's how she knew she was right to go to him. Even though it risked the two of them getting found out.

When they pulled away, Spencer rested one hand on her hip and the other took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before bringing it up to his lips so he could kiss the back of it. The action was meant to be comforting, but it made her blush. He chuckled, noticing the tinge of colour on her cheeks. But he would take that over tears any day.

"Thank you for giving me a second." She said into his chest.

"I've got all the time in the world for you, okay? It doesn't matter what I'm doing, you'll always be more important to me."

With one last kiss on her head, he nudged her so that he could stand up properly, and he moved away from her. He still kept her hand in his, though.

"Are you ready?".

She nodded. "Yeah."

His expression softened with empathy, seeing as she clearly wanted to go home. But they both still had two hours before they could.

"Why don't you come and sit in for the games video? Forget about editing for now. I can help you with it tomorrow."

"What are you filming?".

"One Night. It's gonna be so fun."

She sighed, then nodded. "Okay, but only if I don't have to be on camera."

"Of course not."

For the next hour or so, Spencer didn't care if anyone figured out they were together. It was bound to come out eventually. He was just more concerned about his girlfriend. He kept an eye on her the whole time, even during filming he made sure she was okay, and seemed content to see her smiling at the usual chaotic energy that came with playing One Night combined with the last video of the day. Sometimes, as the moderator, when he was communicating with the cast, he was actually taking the opportunity to check on y/n.

His soft looks directed at her did not go unnoticed by those around him.

___________

[haebragi]

what is sharing an apartment with spencer like ?

THIS MUST BE THE PLACE | Spencer Agnew x F!Reader

Summary: Living with Spencer isn't flashy, no grand gestures, no fairy tale castles. Just warm lights, shared cereal, and kisses between editing breaks. At 11:03 p.m., with the dishwasher humming and The Muppet Movie on mute, you realize: this is magic too. The kind built from soft hoodies, stolen pillows, and the quiet certainty that you’re exactly where you belong.

Word Count: 523

There’s something magical about the way the apartment feels at 11:03 p.m.

Not magical in the storybook sense—there are no enchanted books or singing teapots—just the mundane kind of magic: soft lamplight, the hum of a dishwasher, and the comfort of someone who’s seen you at your worst and still wants to make you tea when you're sad.

Spencer’s apartment wasn’t fancy, but it was much better than yours. The heat actually worked, the windows opened without protest, the shower had decent water pressure, and it smelled vaguely of cedar from the shampoo he liked. There were too many throw blankets, half because you kept buying them and half because Spencer refused to throw any out in case “someone needs one during a movie marathon.”

You’d only meant to stay for a few nights the first time. 

That was six months ago.

Now, your toothbrush lives here, your charger is tangled up next to his, and your oversized hoodie is folded over the back of the couch (because Spencer swears it’s his now). And somewhere in the fridge, behind the oat milk and energy drinks, is a Tupperware of the pasta you made two nights ago, because neither of you can figure out what to do with leftovers for two.

Tonight, Spencer is sprawled on the couch in flannel pants and a hoodie, editing something on his laptop while The Muppet Movie plays in the background on mute.

You’re sitting sideways in the armchair, a bowl of cereal in your lap, and your legs draped over the arm. He glances up at you suddenly and grins like he’s just remembered you’re real. “You know,” he says, “you’re kind of my favorite part of living here.”

You raise an eyebrow over your spoon. “Not the heating? Not the surprisingly deep couch cushions?”

He shrugs and sets his laptop down. “Those are great, but they don’t laugh-snort at their own cereal jokes or steal all the good pillows.”

You snort right on cue, nearly choking. “You love my pillow monopoly.”

Spencer gets up, crosses the room, and gently pulls the cereal bowl out of your hands. He sets it down and then leans over, caging you in with his arms braced on the armrests. His nose brushes yours. “I love you,” he says, soft but certain. “And everything that comes with you. Bad jokes, sock piles, off-key shower singing. All of it.”

You flushed, overwhelmed in the best way. “That’s a lot of love for someone who leaves half-empty cans of Kickstart everywhere.”

He grins. “True, but it’s still you. So I’ll keep the cans, if I get to keep you too.”

You tug him down for a kiss, slow and sweet and so full of warmth it might as well be a second heater in the room.

Somewhere in the background, Kermit silently rides a bicycle across the screen.

And yeah, maybe it’s not a fairytale castle or a sweeping romance with musical numbers. But it’s yours, soft, quiet, and real.

And that’s more than enough magic for 11:03 p.m.

[haebragi]

Bare Minimum - Spencer x Reader

Description: When y/n realises her ex boyfriend still affected her in ways she didn't know, Spencer's there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: A bit more angsty than usual, but still fluffy. Slight details of a past toxic relationship (not Spencer) and emotional manipulation (also not Spencer)

Notes: Hey, so I was heavily inspired rewatching my favourite Spencer videos and it got me thinking things. So I wrote a fic about it. Enjoy :)

_______

Y/n hadn't been in many relationships in her life, but it had never occurred to her just how badly she'd been treated in the past until Spencer came along. There was nothing physically abusive, or anything to that degree, but being with him had opened her eyes to standards she didn't even know existed.

It was also the first time in her life she'd realised how much her last relationship still affected her. Not in the way that she missed him, or still thought about him like that. But subconsciously, her brain seemed to accept that behaviour as normal. It was certainly a shock to the system when she had told Spencer that she'd been in a relationship with a guy who shouted and threw things across the room in fits of anger, and promptly learning it wasn't a normal thing when she saw the look on his face.

Spencer swore on his life that, that wasn't normal behaviour in a relationship and promised her he wasn't like that. And he hadn't let her down so far. He was sweet, caring, and attentive. He took the time to learn about the things she liked doing, and was genuinely interested in what she was saying. She'd never had that before.

Apparently that was bare minimum when in a relationship.

There was this side to Spencer that only appeared in moments on camera, but always present when the cameras were off. He would abandon the gentlemen hat and tailcoat and go back to holding her hand, kissing her cheek, and making sure she was okay after long days.

Going from a guy who screamed and shouted over the tiniest things to a guy who never even raised his voice was a strange transition. Four months in, she was still waiting for him to blow up about something, anything and it just never happened.

She'd seen Spencer frustrated, but even that wasn't enough for him to lash out at her. He still smiled at her and helped make dinner, even if he was terrible at cooking.

Inspite of her trauma with shouting, she was definitely immune to the chaotic loudness that was pretty much a guarantee when working at Smosh. She wasn't a cast member, but part of the production team of Smosh Games and worked closely with Alex Tran. So she had personally seen many overdramatic crash outs, iconic Werewolf arguments, and screaming at Chica's jumpscares.

But today there was something more to it. The video they were filming was already crazy since it was the last one at the end of a shoot week, but it was during a fake argument between Angela and Amanda that y/n started to feel a little nervous.

It wasn't their fault and she knew it was all for laughs. Everything would be fine when the cameras were off, but something about it had reminded her of her ex boyfriend.

Spencer wasn't in the video, he was across the room behind the monitors. But since the volume in the room had raised, his natural instinct was to check on his girlfriend.

When he looked over at her and noticed a slight twitch in her hand, that was enough for him to know something was wrong. He stood up from his chair and discreetly asked Alex to take over for him.

He made his way over to y/n and gently tapped her arm. He noticed the way she flinched at first, then seemed to relax when she saw it was him. To not disturb filming, he quietly motioned for her to come with him.

She followed him out to the hallway where the lights were brighter and the air was cooler.

"Are you alright?".

She nodded, humming absently in a way that he knew she was trying to soothe herself.

"Yeah."

He leaned against the wall, hands clasped behind his back casually. She tilted her head. "Is that all you wanted to ask me?".

He chuckled. "No."

"Okay, but we have to get back to work."

"I know. We will. Just stay here with me for a second, honey."

"Why?".

He sighed, giving her a look. "You know why."

"I'm fine, Spencer. Let's just go back in."

He shook his head. "Not yet. Just trust me."

"Fine."

After a few minutes, the shouting was loud enough to hear outside the stage. Anyone who didn't work here would think it was serious, and that was enough for her brain to trick her into thinking it was. She flinched and Spencer nodded to himself, knowing he was right to take her out here.

"Spencer."

Her voice cracked as tears filled her eyes. He took that as an invitation to move closer and wrap his arms around her, which she was quick to accept.

"It's okay." He whispered. She buried her face into his chest, her grip on his hoodie tightening.

"It's not real, honey."

She sobbed quietly, feeling the panic constricting inside her chest.

"I... I know it's not real."

He hums softly. "That's right. It's not."

"Are you sure?".

"I promise, okay? Everything's fine. It stops when the cameras stop rolling, yeah?".

She nodded a little too quickly. "Right."

He could feel how uneven her breathing was. "Hey." His voice softened even more so that she would focus on him and not the noise. "Take a breath for me, sweetheart."

It was shaky, but she did it. Which meant she wasn't fully panicking, but he knew how fast that could change if he wasn't careful. But luckily, he knew how to stop it.

He gently made her look at him. "Good. Do that again, take your time."

"But I just did it."

"I know." He shrugged innocently. "But humour me."

She took another deep breath, this time less shakily. He nodded. "Okay, good. Another one for good measure."

She giggled a little. "What? I'm fine."

He smiled. "It's more for my benefit than anything. One more, then that's it."

"Okay." She mumbled, taking another deep breath which was pretty much back to normal.

He pulled her closer to him as all the shouting died down. She lightly rested her head on his shoulder.

"Spen."

"Mhm?".

"I keep waiting for something to happen."

He pulled back just enough to look at her. "What do you mean?".

She sighed quietly. "Something to piss you off. Like when you die in a video game, you don't punch the wall or throw your chair. Or when things go wrong at work, you don't have to go out drinking all night without telling me. Or even if I don't have something planned for dinner, you just... don't have an issue with it."

He frowned, muttering, "Oh my god." under his breath.

For a brief moment, she thought this was it. He almost never said oh my god in response to anything. She had wakened whatever was holding his anger back all this time.

But still, nothing happened.

Except Spencer taking her hand, and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. To anyone else, it wouldn't seem like much. But to them it was like a silent promise.

Then he sighed quietly.

"Y/n, I'm gonna be real honest here, I can't for the life of me understand why anyone would treat their partner like that. Least of all, you. Someone you're supposed to love, and cherish, and support, and respect? Those aren't hard things to do, at least it's not the most difficult thing in my life. But I guess, to some people, it is. You weren't with a good person, y/n. Let's just be clear about that. I never met the guy, but based on what you've told me, he might be the worst person that's ever existed. He didn't deserve you, but I'm willing to spend the rest of my life telling you why if that's what it takes. I hate that he put you through all that, but I can help you deal with the consequences."

She looked at him. "You don't have to fix his mistakes, Spen."

"I want to. Not just for me, but for you. I can't imagine myself treating you like he did, but if you can, then it is up to me to fix that."

Her tears, this time, were for different reasons. He smiled softly, wiping them away with his thumbs. She sniffled. "What the hell did I do to deserve you?".

He chuckled. "Like I keep telling you, your idea of bare minimum is way different than mine."

"Well, I think at least we can agree that healing my trauma is not bare minimum."

He just smiled. "Honey, that's barely scratching the surface for me."

Her jaw dropped. "What?".

"What? I'm your boyfriend. It's kinda in the job description to remind you that your ex was an asshole. Didn't you read my ad?".

She giggled, shaking her head. "I wasn't aware there was one."

"Oh, well then there will be a few surprises." His expression was serious for only a second before he broke and grinned at her.

She smiled slightly, squeezing his hand almost as if to remind herself that he was real.

"So, are you ready to go back in?".

She nodded. "Let's do it."

_

When the two of them finished work, Spencer drove them to his place. When he parked, he told her to wait. Confused, she watched as he got out of the car and came round to her side and opened the door for her.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I can open a door, Spencer."

"I know." He held his hand out for her to take. "The point is you never have to open a door again."

She took his hand, letting him help her out of the car. "Unless it's for a good opportunity for you, in which case I'll allow it."

She laughed, gently shoving him away. "Shut up."

When they reached his front door, again he made her wait, making her roll her eyes again.

"This is gonna get old real fast, bud."

He grinned. "That would be a lot more convincing if you weren't smiling."

Well, she couldn't deny that.

________

Tag list:

@superstinkychimp

@burrowedinnature77

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@witchseer25607

@crazycat-ladys-blog

@jesterghuleh

[haebragi]

gif cred belongs to @dutchesspotatoes

requested by anon "i have an idea... maybe like a spencer and monster energy drinker reader. like they have a silly little rivalry over whose energy drink is superior and then its LOVE"

imagine always fighting with spencer agnew about whether monster or kickstart is better

you were sitting at your desk, reading over your schedule for the day when you heard the telltale, satisfying sound of a can cracking open behind you. "when will you learn, y/n?"

you spun around in your chair in an instant, half-glare immediately locking on spencer as he approached your desk, sipping innocently on his favored drink. the sight of the bright yellow kickstart can in his hands being one of the first things you saw that morning made you sick.

"you disgust me, spencer," you scoffed, shaking your head at him as he just smirked at you. your hand naturally came to clasp your own cold can on your desk. "you look like you're drinking a highlighter."

he shrugged at you. "at least i don't look like i'm drinking sand." you looked at your can of the fruit punch flavored monster before raising an eyebrow at spencer. you turned the can so that the mermaid drawing on it was facing toward him.

"dude, i've got boobs on my can," you fought, holding it out to him. spencer's jaw dropped before he could think better of it and you couldn't help the smile that slipped through your fighting facade. he quickly tried to school his expression, nodding as he leaned away from you.

"okay, yeah," he nodded. "you win this round." he let his smile slip, eyes meeting yours with nothing but pure amusement in his look.

"oh, i know," you hummed, offering him a wide grin before he walked away chuckling. you watched him go for a moment as you settled back into your workspace, heart skipping when you saw him turn and look back at you.

just about every morning started with this debate between the two of you now. you probably would've been more annoyed if it was anyone else approaching your desk every morning to distract you for a fake argument over energy drink brands.. but you couldn't imagine anything about spencer annoying you.

you didn't mind his face being one of the first you saw in the morning. maybe it was because you secretly wouldn't mind if it became the first.

[haebragi]

extra nice — ft. ryomen sukuna

female reader ; modern/no curse au ; takes place post-sex with nudity ; banter ; established relationships ; very unserious stuff

You like Sukuna after sex—he’s nicer to you than usual.

(He’s never mean, of course. Not to you, at least—he’s always nice to you. But it’s typically in a weird, roundabout way, so you appreciate how some post-coital cuddling somehow makes him nicer. Nicer with his words, nicer with his touches, and nicer with that attitude he always seems to have attached to his exterior like some second skin that holds him hostage.

He’s nicer after sex. You think maybe getting laid just makes him a little less uptight.)

“I’m thirsty,” you pout.

He snorts, fingers tracing the small of your back as you lay curled on his sweaty chest. “Then drink water, idiot.”

“My legs feel like jello. Can you grab me some,” you blink innocently.

He rolls his eyes. Pre-sex Sukuna would let out a grumpy, I’m not your damn servant, woman! before he’d inevitably get up. Post-sex Sukuna plants a small kiss to your forehead before he rises and grabs his boxers from the floor.

“Iced or not iced, your majesty?” He raises a brow. You pretend to think over your options—he knows the answer before he even asks. He only asks because you like feeling as though you have options.

“Let’s go with iced,” you hum.

“Whatever the lady wishes,” he winks. There’s a smile on his lips and for once, it’s not something he subtly hides or tries to fight back so you don’t notice and point it out. He lets it happen. It stretches across his lips and lets that little dimple on his left cheek appear that makes you realize that Sukuna has moments where he’s less handsome and a little more cute. (You’d never tell him that, but you like to sit with the realization to yourself.)

You think that Sukuna is nicer after sex. Not because he gets his way, but because intimacy puts him in a good mood—being close to you makes him finally let his walls down. You think this version of him is a welcomed change of pace.

When he returns, he hands you a cold, tall glass of iced water with a bendy straw. You brighten at the sight of it.

“Did you know they have straws for anti-wrinkling?” you murmur.

“What are you on about?” he slumps back into bed, wrapping an arm around your waist as you sit up and take a sip of your water.

“It’s true,” you nod, “they have a straw that’s shaped weird so it doesn’t make you pucker your lips. It’s supposed to help with preventing wrinkles.”

“That’s stupid,” he mumbles.

“It is,” you nod, “they look silly. But maybe I’ll have to buy one so you don’t get tired of me quicker when I wrinkle.”

He makes a face. Almost offended but still a little amused. He scoffs as you set your glass down on your night stand and before you can even turn to him, he’s already tugged you down to lay back onto his chest as he wraps his arms tightly around you. (Post-sex Sukuna is also as as openly clingy as he is nice. You happen to also like this perk, as well.)

“You don’t need a stupid straw for wrinkles. That’s dumb as fuck.”

“But won’t my wrinkles make you bored of me?” you tease.

“No,” he says plainly. “Growing old with you can’t be so bad. I’ll probably age faster, anyway—you’ll give me gray hairs faster than you get wrinkles.”

“Not true,” you gasp, “you make me frown way more than I stress you out. I’ll age faster.”

“That’s rich,” he grins, “you wouldn’t last one day with yourself. It’s a miracle I haven’t gone insane.”

“You don’t need me for that,” you grumble.

He chuckles. It’s low and soft and a little less gruff and a little more boyish than he tends to let out, but post-sex Sukuna is a little easier to make laugh. He’s in a good mood when it’s you and him and crumpled sheets and a quiet room. He likes when you find his chest and he finds your waist and you both find each other. He likes when you kiss his jaw and he kisses your forehead and the little marks scattered on your skin from his love bites start to appear when time does its thing and the bruises make themselves known.

Sukuna is nicer after sex. He likes when your bodies do the talking and he doesn’t have to use his words. You know he loves you, and he seems to be in a better mood when he knows you’re reminded of the fact.

“You’d still love me if I was wrinkly, right?” you poke his chest with a teasing grin, “you wouldn’t leave me once I’m well past my prime?”

“If I leave you, you’d be an endangerment to society. I can’t let you run loose in the city.”

“Can’t you ever say something without throwing in an insult?” You huff.

He laughs. There’s a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and then your lips. Your pout curls into a small grin against your will.

“Yes,” he snorts as he rolls his eyes, “I’d still love you with some goddamn wrinkles. Happy?”

“Very. I’d love you with gray hair,” you pat his chest, “don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worrying.”

“You should,” you nod with faux-seriousness, “because gray hairs would not be an issue, but baldness might. You better hope you don’t bald with age because I’m not into bald men.”

“I’m starting to think you’re more shallow than you let on,” he pokes your ribs.

You giggle. That sound coaxes another peck to your lips from him because he can’t quite help himself when he hears it, and when he grins at you as he pulls away, eyes a little softer than usual, you take your chance to cup his cheek and pull him into a proper kiss.

“I’ll never invest in an anti wrinkle straw if you never invest in hair dye,” you offer.

“Deal,” he scoffs in amusement, “what a relief. I was worried for a moment, there.”

“Since I’m so nice and don’t hold you to unreasonable standards that make aging seem like a bad thing,” you drawl, tracing his chest with a delicate, mischievous finger, “you should treat me to something to eat, too. I’m hungry.”

“Yeah? Shocker,” he grunts, grabbing his phone as he starts to order you food. He asks what you want—he knows the answer before you even reply, but he asks anyway because you like to feel as though you have options.

“You’re so nice,” you beam when he pays, pecking his cheek swiftly. “Here’s a kiss for your troubles.”

He rolls his eyes. There’s a stupid grin on his face, and he taps his cheek as he murmurs, “Nope. Not gonna cut it. Taxes are higher than that around here.”

Sukuna is nice after sex. You happen to still like him before and after, though.

if u follow my blog and u know the context: im still mind blown about this anti wrinkle straw LOL

[haebragi]

did someone ask for more spencer serotonin? ☀️

[haebragi]

🜼 ⋆ mirror sex + tummy bulging with dilf!nanami kento.

you don’t know what’s filthier: how wet you are, or how completely he owns you in the reflection.

you’re bent over in front of the full-length mirror, palms flat against the glass, your cheek nearly smushed into it. your eyes are glassy, lips parted, spit-slick, and nanami’s chest is flush against your back. one large hand wraps around your throat, fingers pressing just enough to keep you still, while the other is splayed wide across your lower belly, right over the obscene bulge where his cock stretches you out.

“look at that,” he murmurs, voice deep and low right against your ear. “see what you do to me?”

you whimper, body trembling as he pushes his hips forward again. his cock slides back in with no resistance. your pussy’s been dripping since he made you kneel for him at the edge of the bed, since he laid you out on thousand-thread-count sheets like you were something precious. and now, with your thighs shaking and your stomach bulging every time he bottoms out, you’re ruined.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he breathes, sweat sticking to his jawline. “can feel you clenching every time i move. you like seeing yourself like this, don’t you?”

you nod, barely a twitch of your head against the mirror, but he sees it.

“use your words,” he says softly, but there’s steel behind it.

“yes,” you gasp. “yes, kento—i l-love it, i love it—”

“mm.” his hand drags down your stomach, palm skimming over your belly, fingers brushing just above your clit. “then pay attention.”

he fucks you slow on purpose. he’s cruel like that when his deliberate, deep thrusts that hit so high inside you, your toes curl every single time. you watch in the mirror as his cock bulges in your tummy, visible under the soft skin of your lower belly, and your eyes roll back.

“right there?” he asks, almost teasing, as he presses down on the bulge. “that where you feel me, sweetheart?”

you nod frantically, breath hitching. “feels so big—feels too good—”

“of course it does,” he murmurs. “because you were made for this. made for me.”

he gives a sudden thrust that’s harder, rougher even and you cry out, legs buckling, but he catches you effortlessly with a hand around your waist. he’s breathing heavier now, low groans caught in his throat as your pussy squeezes around him. you feel it. you feel him get thicker, twitching inside you.

“you gonna come for me?” he whispers, mouth dragging along your jaw. “gonna make a mess all over my cock?”

you nod again, eyes rolling up. “please—please, i’m so close—”

“good girl. give it to me.”

his fingers press against your clit while his cock pounds deep, every snap of his hips driving the bulge in your belly higher. it’s too much, too intense, too intimate and he doesn’t look away. watches every second of your unraveling in the mirror like it’s his favorite fucking show.

your orgasm rips through you like lightning, very violent, wet, unstoppable. your body trembles under his, your thighs slick and sticky, mouth open in a silent scream.

“there you go,” he groans, fucking you through it, hips stuttering. “fuck, you’re perfect. made me come the second you squeezed me like that—fucking perfect, baby—”

he buries himself deep as he finishes, pressing into that bulge like he’s trying to mark you from the inside out. and then he stays there, chest heavy against your back, breath hot on your shoulder, cock still twitching inside your oversensitive cunt.

“look at you,” he says softly, more reverent now than cruel. “so pretty when you’re full.”

and you watch yourself in the mirror. how your skin is flushed, belly bulging, thighs shaking and realize he’s right.

you’ve never looked better.