#sick Shayne

[allthe-starss]

i physically cannot handle the way they look at him

[hipsternumbertwo]

We're never gonna give the kids the keys to our office ever again

[smoshsfavoritepizzaplace]

Courtney needs to let us rest, I can’t take this anymore

[absolutely-smoshing]

UR KIDDING 😭😭😭😭😭😭🥹

THEYRE SO HAPPY AND IN LOVE IM ILL

[angelaslavendergirls]

Okay so they’re for real married, great, so happy for them, they’re genuinely a perfect match, can i have financial compensation for what I went through yesterday now ?

[amyeclipse]

when i catch you smosh WHEN I CATCH YOU

[aestheth1cc]

I literally got tumblr back bc of this I’m SICK

[angstyaches]

i feel like 🐈‍⬛ (superstition) would be really cool for charlie if he said something off-handed and then one of the aldridges was just like “well, yes. obviously.”

Okay, I love this idea! I ended up tweaking it slightly, but I hope you enjoy 🖤 Also, I've been writing too many different Halloweens for these boys so it takes place on Friday the thirteenth instead!

Sick or Treat

CW: emeto, alcohol/drunkenness, superstition, teasing/banter, brief mention of parental death.

___

Charlie hiccupped and triumphantly swallowed back the acidic swell of liquid at the back of his throat. If he was going to vomit – and all signs pointed to yes – he would prefer to do it in the semi-privacy of Shayne’s bathroom, not here on the street in full view of Felix and Elliott.

“How much further?” he whispered, leaning on Shayne’s arm. He apparently didn’t whisper as quietly as he’d thought, though, because a few paces ahead, Felix turned around with an easy smile.

His freckled cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. “A little bit further, bud. You holding up alright?”

Charlie gulped again as he nodded. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to vampires and their extra-sensitive hearing.

“It’ll take even longer,” Shayne complained, staggering slightly as Charlie’s weight overpowered him for a couple of steps, “if you don’t walk in a straight fucking line.”

“Sorry, lovely.”

“It’s… it’s fine.” The nervous double-flutter of Shayne’s dark eyelashes sliced through the drunk, queasy haze in Charlie’s head.

“Mmm,” Charlie hummed, resolved to keeping his head down and walking in as straight a line as possible until they made it back to the townhouse. The part of town they were currently passing through was in need of some TLC, and soon, Charlie found himself taking longer or shorter steps, leaning to one side or the other, to avoid the soles of his shoes touching the cracks in the pavement. Some ran so close together and spread out from the same spot so that they looked like spiderwebs, which sent shivers down his spine.

Shayne groaned, hitching Charlie’s arm a little closer to his body. “The fuck are you doing now? Are you gonna throw up or something?”

“No, I’m just walking.”

“You’re all over the place, love.”

“Look at all the cracks!”

“What?” Shayne asked slowly. “What about them?”

“You know what they say! Step on a crack, break your mother’s back.” Charlie felt a stab of panic a moment after saying it out loud; it probably wasn’t a cool thing to say to someone whose mother was dead. He looked up sheepishly, reckoning he could afford to take his eyes away from the path for just a few seconds.

Shayne just looked confused, though. His pupils were endlessly dark, almost swallowing up the brown rings in his eyes. “Seriously? You’ve never cared about that before.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows. “It’s Friday the thirteenth.”

“So?”

“So, maybe all of that stuff is actually true on Friday the thirteenth.”

“Well, yeah.” Hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, Elliott turned on his heel and walked backwards for a couple of paces. The whites of his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and Charlie was filled with the sickening dread as he was about to flash his fangs and everything. “Obviously, it is.”

“Elli,” Felix hissed softly, to which Elliott responded by freeing one hand from its pocket and tapping him on the arm.

“Friday the thirteenth is the reason all of those superstitions exist.” Elliott gave a shrug. “Not a lot of humans know that.”

Charlie always flinched under the way Elliott said the word humans. He never said it in a way that sounded condescending or superior, but he still managed to make Charlie feel like an insect standing by the feet of giants. Nothing so undignified as a maggot or a worm, but perhaps an ant.

Unsure of what to make of any of this, Charlie slowed to a stop so he could look at Shayne without risking a misstep. “Wh-what does that mean, lovely?”

“It means Elliott’s being an asshole,” Shayne said, shrugging a shoulder in Elliott’s direction. “So, you know, business as usual.”

“Hey, you little shit. You think you know better than I do?”

A kind of primal fear coiled in the pit of Charlie’s stomach. People kept emphasising that Ryan was the Elder vampire of her bloodline, that she was the one who’d been around for centuries and had all the answers, but from where Charlie was standing, Elliott appeared just as unshakable, just as timeless, just as… inevitable.

In other words, just as frightening a gateway into the supernatural world as Ryan. So, who could say he didn’t know something the rest of them knew?

Stranger things had happened, after all.

Don’t you think I would know about this? CT wondered idly inside his head; they were always extra quiet, extra sluggish, when Charlie drank alcohol. This was probably for the best, because otherwise, the two would probably start having loud, uninhibited conversations out loud for the world to hear. I am more ancient than the forests –

You can’t even remember what your name was before you met me, Charlie pointed out, to which they sat back in silence again, resigned.

“Elliott, are you being serious?” Charlie demanded.

“Yes,” Elliott said, at the same moment that both Shayne and Felix said, “No.”

“Charlie.” Shayne’s voice had an edge of desperation. “You’re drunk off your fucking face and Elliott’s bullshitting you.”

Charlie shook his head, dropping his gaze to the path again as he started forward. “I-I’m gonna avoid the cracks,” he said, “just to be safe.”

Shayne sighed with exasperation as he was tugged along.

“Do you want me to break my mother’s back?” Charlie demanded.

Somehow, Shayne mustered up an even more passionate sigh. “No, I don’t want you to break Ingrid’s back.”

They forged ahead, until checking for cracks pushed Charlie’s plans of walking in a straight line from ambitious to futile. He felt Shayne’s grip on his arm tighten as he wobbled across the path, the streetlights converging into one dizzying blur.

“Charlie, what’s wrong?”

Charlie pitched forward, spurting out several mouthfuls of dark, foamy vomit into the well-trimmed grass that separated the path from the side of the road. He groaned with relief that the ground would soak up the foul liquid, so that it mightn’t get all over his Converse.

“Love,” Shayne said, and Charlie reached for him with one hand.

“Dizzy.”

“Yeah, no shit, you’re drunk.”

Charlie didn’t have it in him to explain to his boyfriend that he’d been handling his booze just fine until the lines in the path had started to blur before his eyes as he passed them. However, as though he’d cast off a few units of alcohol along with his vomit, his head felt a little clearer.

“Lovely?”

Shayne lightly smoothed a hand over Charlie’s shoulder. “Mmhmm?”

“Elliott was..." Charlie paused to stifle a wet, shallow burp. "... Winding me up, wasn’t he?”

The hand on his shoulder twitched into a grip, just for a few seconds, before it resumed forming a comforting sweeping motion. “Did… Did you figure that out all by yourself, genius?”

[unknownteapot]

every time i look at shayne's story i start crying again because this guy. this fucking guy who thought his career was over in his 20s. who joined smosh as a 'last resort', as a defeat of sorts as he mentioned many times. this guy. who met. his coworker at thE FUCKING AUDITION. WHO SAID SEE U AT WORK. AND THEN HE SAW THEM AT WORK. AND THEN THEY WERE SHIPPED. ANd they never dated, never realised they had something, probably due to all the pressure. later shayne mentions 'investing into his friendships' more than relationships as advice for finding the one. she mentions when he made her a care package when they were sick, and it proabably didn't occur to them for a while until shit slowed down during the pandemic, until there were less eyes on everyone. this guy who mentions being bad at dating. these guys who made a whole show about being 'bad at dating'. this guy who didn't know what to expect at smosh but made it spark up again, who helped shape it and make it what it is though hard work and immense dedication, mET THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AT SMOSH. NO. HE MADE SMOSH WHAT IT IS WITH HER. THE PILLARS OF SMOSH. AND THIS GUY. IS NOW. FUCKING MARRIED TO THEM?? THEY'RE MARRIED???? WHAT THE FUCK

[vampirecorleone]

"Born to a prostitute in 1887, Ryan Khun developed a sick appetite for women, attacking and raping prostitutes in the night. Seeking to be cured of his insatiable appetite, Ryan voluntarily committed himself to Borehamwood Asylum for treatment. But after years of solitary confinement, Ryan went completely insane, scratching on the walls so violently his fingernails were torn completely off. In response, the doctors kept him permanently bound in a straitjacket, tying it tighter whenever he acted out, contorting his limbs. After gnawing through his straitjacket to get free, the doctors locked his head in a cage and sealed him away in a cell in the basement. while there, he developed a hatred of humanity, screaming madly and cowering whenever approached by people. When the asylum burst into flames, he chose to stay behind and perish in the fire while everyone else escaped. His ghost carries his torn straitjacket with the torn cubic head cage; it is called a sign of Hell's Winter. He is one of the most aggressive and violent ghosts, attacking and nearly killing Kathy before Kalina saves her." Horror Character Appreciation - Shayne Wyler as The Jackal in Thir13en Ghosts (2001) dir. Steve Beck

[pedropascallme]

Slow Down, Lie Down

Pairing: Shayne Topp x f!Reader

Summary: “‘I’m fucking exhausted, Shayne, it’s like I have to be so high-energy all the fucking time, and I’m burnt out and stressed for no fucking reason and I just—…you!’ You took a deep breath, leaning into his touch. ‘You…’ you looked at him through damp lashes, and he looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish your thought, not catching on to your statement. You cocked a brow, ‘I want you, Shayne.’”

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), Shayne's gold chain is a warning in and of itself but it also comes into play here so take that as you will. If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: This is based off of a requested prompt from the lovely @slaydoggg who asked for a Shayne fic quite a while ago and I just got around to finishing it! Hope you all enjoy <3

The last day of any shoot week was the only time in your life that you’d ever felt genuine burnout.

When you were in school, you’d had a sort of leniency policy with yourself; long days never turned into long nights, you’d stuck to a schedule that allowed for grace periods, you’d been confident in your ability to ask for help.

But when it came to working in such a high energy environment, where you felt like you had to be on all the time, where quiet always seemed like a synonym for bad, it was hard to grant yourself any clemency from just going, going, going all day.

Not to say you didn’t like what you did—you wouldn’t trade your place at Smosh for the world. The office was a safe space above all else, and even though it was your place of employment, most days it felt more like a high school cafeteria, where you and your friends gathered and chatted and made each other go red in the face from laughter until milk shot out of someone’s nose, or whatever.

Still, shooting a TNTL at 7PM on a Friday after a week of filming felt like some kind of sick joke. Did you even have any ideas left? Improv was one thing, but improv with zero social battery left was a completely different story, one you were unsure you wanted to know the end to.

“You alright?” Shayne pulled you from your thoughts while you gathered in the studio to film.

“Yeah, yeah. Just…y’know, little tired.” You smiled, an offering he returned, “But I’m alright.”

He could tell that you were teetering in the space between apathetic and completely exhausted. It was hard to keep things from him. Goddamn psychology degree. Even before you had started dating, it seemed like Shayne had a sixth sense for the feelings of the people around him, especially when it came to you—and Damien, but they might as well have had their own telepathic communication link, as far as you were concerned.

“Ok,” he rubbed your shoulder in an attempt to soothe you despite your denial of any discomfort, “We’ll go home soon. Go be funny.”

~~~

“Good! Cut!” Shayne called from behind the camera after Courtney wrapped up the video. You had never felt more relief in your life; the promise of a bed and a weekend of relaxation awaiting you at home made you feel like a huge weight was in the process of being lifted off your shoulders. You felt like you were floating, completely dissociated from the world around you while your friends giggled as they recalled jokes they had made not even 20 minutes ago.

You gathered your things and met Shayne outside in the car. You stared through the windshield, still tuning everything out and unaware that he was addressing you.

“Hey,” he squeezed your thigh, “did you hear me?”

“Mm, sorry,” you shifted to look at him, realizing you were still unbuckled and quickly correcting your indiscretion.

“What do you want for dinner?” He was doing that thing where he studied your features as if you were a doll, seemingly unaware that you could see him scanning your face.

“I dunno,” you sighed, “let’s just order something when we get home.”

“Ok.” He fell quiet and peeled out of his parking spot. The ride was quiet for the first ten minutes before he spoke again. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m just ti—”

“‘Just tired,’ I know—but is there anything else?”

You shifted uncomfortably, running your hand over your seatbelt. “I dunno.” You knew you sounded repetitive, childish, but it was hard to communicate the exhaustion you were feeling to someone who did the same thing as you all week and never seemed to fall victim to the same sort of fatigue that you did. “Really tired.”

“Do you feel stressed?” He pushed.

“Are you trying to psychoanalyze me?” The words came out with a harsher edge than you had meant, and you saw him briefly furrow his brows in shock before regaining his composure.

“No, I’m just worried. If something’s wrong, you can tell me.” He parked in front of the house and turned to you, “I love you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep anything from me.”

You nodded, and the floodgates threatened to open as tears pricked your lash line. You sniffed. “I know,” another sniffle, “I love you, too.” You felt ridiculous, like a toddler overdo for a nap with the way you were acting just because you were really that tired. You just needed a little reassurance; to remember what it was like to feel rested and sated.

Shayne unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the center console to take your face in his hands. “What do you need, baby?” His thumb caught a tear that had slipped over your cheek. “Tell me. You’re…freaking me out, a little.” He chuckled, still retaining the sympathetic look that painted his face even when his eyes creased up with his small smile.

“I’m fucking exhausted, Shayne, it’s like I have to be so high-energy all the fucking time, and I’m burnt out and stressed for no fucking reason and I just—…you!” You took a deep breath, leaning into his touch. “You…” you looked at him through damp lashes, and he looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to finish your thought, not catching on to your statement. You cocked a brow, “I want you, Shayne.”

“Oh—oh. Oh!” He lit up, eyes wide and smiling like a kid in a candy store.

One thing you appreciated was that no matter how often you two were intimate, no matter how many times he saw you naked, he still managed to make it seem like a miraculous, once in a lifetime event when you fucked.

Talk about validation.

He all but jumped out of his seat, waltzing over to open the door on the passenger side of the car and waiting impatiently for you to unbuckle yourself and step onto the sidewalk. You’d never seen him open the door to the house so fast.

Before you had the opportunity to remove your jacket, your shoes, or put down your bag, you were pushed against the now-closed-and-locked door by Shayne, who immediately found your lips and pulled you into a deep kiss. It was gentle, reminiscent of the first time you two had kissed in that it was exploratory and slow so as to adapt to the needs of the other; but no matter how he did it, kissing Shayne always felt like perfection. You dropped your bag at your feet before bringing your arms to rest on his shoulders, lazily pulling at his flannel while he dragged his tongue over your bottom lip. He rested his forehead against yours when he pulled away.

“Feel better?” He let his nose bump against yours as he spoke.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “But I think I could use a little more…remedying…” You brought one hand to the collar of his shirt, dipping under it and trailing your finger back and forth.

“Thought so.” He pulled your hand away momentarily to pull you into him, hands on your waist, and you got the hint, jumping so he could lift you, wrapping your arms around his neck while your legs found purchase around his hips. You licked a stripe up his neck and felt him shiver underneath your tongue.

He hesitated to drop you on the bed. “I could just fuck you like this, y’know…” He made a show of how easy it was for him to pick you up, bobbing you up and down in his arms momentarily, miming how he’d fuck you.

“Fully clothed?” You pointed out, and he relented.

“Next time I’m getting you naked before I pick you up.”

“Buy me a drink first, man.” You laughed, peeling off your jacket and shirt and unbuttoning your jeans, pulling the fabric from your body; it felt freeing in so many ways, the removal of a week of work from your skin, your limbs able to breathe without the constricting material, the knowledge that Shayne was there to see you in all your nude glory—it was incredibly satisfactory.

His shirt was off when you looked back up, now in just your bra and panties. The chain around his neck glinted in the low light of the bedroom, and you felt a wave of lust crash over you; crawling towards him to the edge of the bed where he stood, you let your hands trace up his abdomen before landing on his shoulders. You peppered kisses over his chest, taking in the taste of his skin and inhaling his scent. His hands came up to grip your waist, squeezing gently to get your attention.

“Not about me right now,” he reminded you, somewhat stern in his cadence.

“You don’t want me to go down on you?” You purred, goading him.

“As much as I would love to see you wrap your lips around my cock right now…” he spoke while he pushed you back onto the mattress, pulling you towards him by your ankles, “I’d much rather be making you feel good.”

“Yeah?” You breathed, and he planted a kiss on your thigh.

“I’m a giver.” He kneeled in front of you, "Lie down." You leaned back, letting yourself melt into the comforter under his touch. He let his hands roam your body; thumbs brushing the curve of your breast over your bra before dragging his palms over your stomach, dipping under you slightly to squeeze your ass. You let out a huff of contentment at the feeling, and he did it again, before his fingers dropped under the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

When you felt the first swipe of his tongue over your core, your drowsiness was replaced with a tingling pleasure that started in your clit and spread to the back of your neck; you feathered your fingers through his hair to coax him onward.

“Poor baby,” he muttered, dipping his head down into you and licking up from your slit, gathering your slick on his tongue, “you just needed some help relaxing, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you moaned when he used his tongue to circle your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure to help you unwind; you bent your knee, effectively trapping him face-first against your cunt.  

“It’s ok,” he flattened his tongue against you, keeping pressure on your clit until you started to squirm, “I’ll help you, baby. Don’t worry.” He licked through your folds before slipping his tongue inside of you, contorting the muscle to curl in and out as he saw fit. You tugged on his hair, a silent message telling him not to stop amidst your quiet moans and the subtle roll of your hips against his mouth.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking gently until you arched your back, muscles relaxing when he let up on the pressure before he repeated the motion just to watch you squirm for him.

“Shayne…” You whimpered, one hand coming up to grope yourself through your bra, drunk off the feeling of his tongue.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispered into you, alternating between sucking on your clit and lapping up the mixture of his spit that trickled down your entrance and the wet that dripped from you. He snaked his arms underneath you, resting them under your thighs with his hands gripping the plush skin, giving him a better angle to watch you come undone. He fucked you with his tongue again now, unable to ignore the way you bucked your hips against his mouth and the filthy moans that fell from your lips, before he licked a long stripe up your cunt and began sucking on your clit once more.

Your orgasm crashed over you, a calming tide that came in and out with no fanfare, but was still so beautifully curated to your needs. Shayne watched your breathing pick up and then slow down as you sank deeper into the bed. He rested his head against your thigh.

“Was that helpful?” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

“Maybe a little,” you rolled your eyes playfully, and he stood, leaning over you and kissing your cheek. “Got anything else that might help?”

He laughed quietly, briefly kissing your pulse point. “Anybody ever told you that you can be real needy?”

“Is that a bad thing?” You let your hands wander over his stomach and chest, dropping down further to play with the waistband of his jeans, and he groaned.

“Not in the slightest,” he clarified, before straightening himself up to remove his jeans. You closed your eyes, still enjoying the comfort of the bed, the undisturbed joy you got to experience with your boyfriend away from the chaos of work. When you opened your eyes, Shayne had one knee on the mattress, boxers still on—much to your chagrin—and beckoning you closer to him. You sat up, shuffling towards him on your knees, and he guided you forward so that he could unhook your bra and let it slide down your arms.

“Your turn,” you bent down to tug at his boxers, and he smirked at the difficulty you had trying to get them off of him at this angle. He gently shooed you off, taking them off on his own, before pulling you in for a long, slow kiss. It was somewhat needier now than the one you had shared at the door, but it still felt just right; his tongue broke through your lips and, after sucking gently on it for a few seconds, you pulled back, too desperate for him to fuck you now to focus on anything else.

He pushed you down onto your back gently, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed and propping your legs on his shoulders. Fisting his cock, you watched him spit down onto you, letting the saliva trail over your hole before he ran his cock through your folds, gathering your wet on himself. You squirmed, eager and impatient, and he raised an eyebrow, smiling down at you.

“Needy.” He reiterated, before pushing into you. You felt the initial stretch, the blissful pressure of his cock plunging into you, and in this position, with your legs raised above you, you could feel him nestled deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you heard him mutter when he bottomed out, and one of his hands came down to your side, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your hip bone. “God, maybe we both needed this…”

“Mhm,” you sighed dreamily up at him, eyes half-lidded and lips parted.

He pulled his hips back less than an inch, focused on staying close to you and drawing your pleasure out, before pushing back in—not rough, but certainly hard; the force pushed you up the mattress slightly. Caught off guard by his movement, combined with the feeling of his cock pressing into you even deeper than it had before, you couldn’t help the moan of his name that was knocked from your lungs.

He kept fucking you like that, slow and deep, hands sweeping over your skin like he wanted to remember every curve and bend of your body.

“You’re so beautiful,” Shayne managed to speak out between low moans, “So fucking beautiful.”

You placed a hand over his where it sat on your thigh, still holding your legs above your body and against his chest. “All for you.” You squeezed his hand gently, and he leaned his head back.

“God, yeah—that’s right,” his thrusts started to get rougher, just enough for his cock to push against your most sensitive spot and keep you hovering over the edge. “All for me.”

He leaned forward, pushing your legs back with his body; he had even more free reign like this, thrusting into you hard and fast, and you mewled underneath him, letting out whimpers of delight at the way he pushed you closer to your high.

Propping himself up with one arm, his other hand resting on your waist, he dropped his head down to your chest and licked messy stripes over your breasts, capturing your nipple in his mouth and sucking on it before alternating to the other. You arched your back, struggling to decide whether to focus on the way his cock felt brushing against your g-spot or the way his tongue felt teasing your nipples.

You quickly decided that now wasn’t the time for decision making, allowing yourself to succumb completely to the way his movements worked in tandem to bring you satisfaction.

When he came up to kiss you again, you grabbed at his chain, pulling him further into you, and he moaned into your lips, tongue immediately seeking refuge in your mouth and licking into you. You returned the favor, eager to taste him. He moved his hand, positioning his thumb over your clit and kneading it in time with his thrusts, and you gasped at the friction. Mouth open and unable to tear your gaze from him, you yanked on the chain around his neck again, and he growled, pushing into you with less regard now—nice and rough to get you over the finish line.

“Fuck me just like that—oh my god, Shayne!” Your legs trembled from the strain of the position and the orgasm that built in the pit of your stomach, and when he licked his lips, panting, and you felt him press harder against your clit, you were engulfed by the electricity that seemed to shoot from him straight into your bloodstream. You cried out his name, throwing your head back and letting the pleasure take over.

You heard him hum above you, the combination of a contented sigh and a desperate groan as he watched you cum on his cock; panting, you placed a hand gingerly on his cheek, the other still toying with his chain, pulling his face towards yours, ghosting your lips over his.

“Cum in me,” you whispered into his mouth before kissing him, and you felt his lips part against yours with a moan, stuttering your name and spilling into you.

His head rested against yours, both of you breathing hard and trying to regain your composure. He kissed your ear, then your cheek, your nose, your other cheek, your other ear, before finally placing a sweet kiss against your lips, soft and full of love.

He took a deep breath before pulling out of you, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness.

“I know. Come here, baby” he helped you straighten your stiff legs before scooping you up and placing you properly along the bed; you curled up instantly, satisfied and relaxed. Shayne crawled into bed behind you, a box of tissues in his hands that he pulled from to wipe the excess mess from between your thighs. He was gentle, quiet, kissing your back while he pulled your legs apart to clean you off.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, turning over to face him, “I feel…much more relaxed.”

“Glad I could help.” He kissed your forehead, tossing the box of tissues across the room and cringing when they landed awkwardly in the middle of the floor instead of on the dresser he had been aiming for. “Never want you to think that you can’t tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I know,” you trailed your fingers over his chain, looking up to meet his gaze, “I’m sorry I was grumpy.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, baby. I’m sorry you felt so exhausted.”

“I’m still exhausted,” you smiled, “just in a much more enjoyable way.” You watched him break into a smile, pulling you against his chest and kissing the crown of your head.

“You can sleep in tomorrow.” He stroked your hair.

“Only if you sleep in with me.” You nuzzled into him, already feeling sleep tug your eyes closed.

“Can’t pass up an opportunity like that.”

[hipsternumbertwo]

Favorite Angela Moments 9/∞: Sarah, who is your favorite cast member?

[merrybloomwrites]

Ants Are Going to Town in My Body

Summary: Your boyfriend Shayne helps you through the roughest night of your period after getting a taste of cramps for himself.

Title taken from the video that inspired this story: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kkn2dc4L7fE

Word Count: 1.7K

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

People could easily say that Shayne Topp has golden retriever energy. As his girlfriend of two years, you would completely agree with that statement, and you would say it as the highest compliment.

Shayne is the absolute best boyfriend you’ve ever had. It’s not uncommon for him to surprise you with flowers for no reason. He loves to cook. Sometimes you help him in the kitchen, and other times he kicks you out in order to surprise you with the new recipe he decided to try.

He gets excited to tell you all about the latest book he read or to watch a new movie or show with you. Day trips outside of the city happen a couple times a month, the two of you listening to music during the drive as you enjoy the fresh, non-LA air.

One thing that you found surprising at first is how much he dotes on you. It’s always in subtle ways, nothing overwhelming, but he does little things to show he cares. To show that he knows what you need, deep down.

He always takes care of you when you’re sick, grabbing medicine and making soup to help you feel better. If you’re sad or stressed he’ll go through the feelings with you. People often see him as a class clown type and might assume that he’d just do what he can to cheer you up and make you laugh, but that’s not always the case. He’ll meet you where you’re at. If you need to vent, he’ll listen. If you need to cry, he’ll hold you. He’s one of the most emotionally mature men you’ve ever met, and you can’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be able to call him your boyfriend.

He is also super supportive of you each month during your period. He has no problem picking up pads or tampons, not even batting an eye when fans recognize him in the feminine care aisle of the local convenience store.

He’ll make sure that you have pain medicine and a snack to take it with, so it doesn’t upset your stomach. He draws warm baths and makes sure your heating pad is ready for you. When you have cramps in the middle of the night you always go to the couch so that your constant tossing and turning to find a comfortable position won’t wake him. But without fail, he always comes to find you and bring you back to bed.

All that to say, he’s truly a perfect boyfriend. You don’t think it could be better than this. Until one day, he proves you wrong.

It’s day two of your period, and you’ve been curled on the couch since you got home from work. The pain meds haven’t kicked in, nothing is comfortable, and you’re extremely bloated. You’re debating if it’s worth it to drag yourself to the bathroom and take a bath when the front door of your apartment opens.

The very first thing Shayne does is press a kiss to the top of your head. The sweet gesture distracts you from the pain for a moment, but the relief is fleeting.

“Hey honey, how are you feeling?” he asks gently.

“Like it would be less painful to slice open my stomach and take out my uterus,” you reply through gritted teeth.

You finally look at him and see the most loving expression on his face. It immediately lightens your mood, and you say, “Sorry, that was a bit dramatic. I just hate waiting for the medicine to work. And I cannot get comfy.”

“I got something that might help,” he says before walking into the kitchen. You miss his presence next to you, but you’re also curious what he has for you. The microwave beeps and he’s crouched in front of the couch again. You look up and see him holding a stuffed rabbit.

“It’s one of those thingies that you can heat up and works like a heating pad. Plus, it’s your favorite animal so, I dunno, I thought it was cute.”

He hands it to you, and you place it on your belly, sighing at the immediate relief. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

“Of course, babe. I also have ingredients for your favorite meal so I’m gonna wash up and start making that, okay?”

You nod and smile, and he leans in to place a soft kiss to your lips. You’re comforted by the sounds of him preparing dinner in the next room and by the time the food is ready you’re finally feeling better.

“So, how was work today?” you ask as you dig into the delicious meal he prepared. You’d been too nauseas to eat lunch earlier, and you suddenly realize how starving you are.

“It was good, recorded a podcast, a reddit reacts and a challenge pit,” he replies.

“Busy day. What were the challenges?”

“Uh, it was a fun one. I’m gonna let it be a surprise for you when it comes out,” he says with a laugh. “How were the pups today?” he asks in reference to your job as a service dog trainer.

You tell him about the new dog that you’ve started working with as you both finish eating. Once you’re done you try to bring the plates to the kitchen. Since Shayne cooked you plan to do the cleanup, but he stops you before you can even stand. “I’ve got it babe, why don’t you choose a movie for us to watch tonight?”

You again wonder how you got so lucky to have someone who takes care of you and does so with a smile on his face. There’s a new documentary you’d both been wanting to watch so you pull it up and grab a blanket while you wait for him.

He joins you a few minutes later and hands you a bag of your favorite chocolates. You know that you didn’t have any in the apartment, meaning he’d picked them up for you. The kind gesture brings tears to your eyes, and you internally curse the hormones that make you more emotional than normal.

Shayne doesn’t comment on the crying, knowing that it sometimes makes you uncomfortable when he points it out. Instead, he just wraps his arm around you, pulls you in to cuddle against his chest, and presses play on the documentary.

His free hand moves to your belly, massaging and giving the type of pressure that always helps with your cramps. Even though they’re not bothering you right now, you appreciate how well he knows you and how he’s doing everything he can to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.

For the next hour and a half, the documentary plays. You’re only half paying attention to it. The rest of your brain is focused on your wonderful boyfriend, who knows exactly how to take care of you. There’s no expectation, he doesn’t want anything in return. He just wants to make sure he’s doing everything he can to make you feel better.

The credits start rolling and Shayne turns off the TV before getting off the couch and reaching out to help you stand as well. The two of you get ready for bed side by side in the bathroom and you burrow under the covers.

It takes a couple of minutes for Shayne to join you, and you assume he’s checking that the door is locked as he does every night. But when he comes into the bedroom, you see he’s carrying the new bunny he got you. It’s warm, and smells of lavender, and you know he heated it for you in the microwave before coming to bed.

 You place it against your belly and Shayne gets under the covers, spooning you from behind. He places a kiss to the back of your neck and murmurs “I love you” against your skin.

“I love you too,” you reply, and fall asleep.

You wake in the middle of the night, your cramps coming back, so you quietly slide out of bed and walk into the kitchen. You find a snack already left out for you nearly cry again at how well Shayne takes care of you. After eating the food, you take more pain medicine and reheat the bunny. You notice a vase of flowers on the counter that weren’t there yesterday and immediately realize that Shayne must have picked them up along with the chocolates and the new stuffed animal.

Just as the microwave is about to finish you feel hands wrap around your waist.

“You okay?” Shayne asks, his voice groggy from sleep.

“I’m okay. Thank you. For the snack. And for the bunny. You truly are the best,” you say as you turn in his arms to press a kiss to his lips.

You grab the stuffed animal and lead Shayne back to bed. It takes half an hour for the pain medicine to kick in, and he rubs your back the entire time.

The next day is better, your cramps and bloating subsiding. But you can’t forget how well Shayne took care of you through the worst of it. He never diminishes your emotions or belittles the pain you feel.

A couple weeks later you get home from work and open YouTube to relax a bit before starting dinner prep. You see the new Smosh challenge pit video titled “Period Cramp Simulator Challenge” and you immediately start to watch it. The video begins with the rubber band chicken challenge which has you in tears with how hilariously ridiculous it is.

And then comes the period cramp simulator. You notice the outfit Shayne is wearing while he practically fights for his life experiencing cramps for the first time. Suddenly, his actions on day two of your last period make sense. Because that was absolutely the day they shot that video. He got a taste of what you experience every month and went even further in his need to take care of you. And for that reason, this video makes you fall even further in love with your boyfriend.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading! If you have any Shayne Topp story requests let me know!

[hayleythesugarbowl]

if ur requests are closed, don’t worry abt this message😅 but is there a chance of seeing more anthony padilla content/fics in the future? i recently fell in love w him not even gonna lie ❤️.❤️ love ur work!!!

First Day || Anthony Padilla x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist • anthony hcs ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: after ian and anthony buy smosh, you can’t wait to finally meet anthony. but your first encounter with him doesn’t go exactly as you would have thought

word count: 2.7k

warnings: this is disney channel level cheesy + convenient but i had fun and i hope u do too 🤭, mild language

a/n: oh we are so back! there absolutely is a chance of seeing anthony content on this blog! there is so little content for him i had to write this. hope u enjoy!!

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

     “Where’s Anthony?”

     You turned to Angela, who’d asked the question. She set her bag down on a chair next to you and pulled out her phone. 

     “He’s not supposed to be here until after Moose Master,” Shayne answered her, looking up from his couch.

     “I thought you guys were supposed to shoot the whole ‘we bought Smosh’ video this morning,” she said. “Moose Master isn’t until this afternoon. 

     “Moose Master’s in like ten minutes,” you told her.

     “Dammit, I knew I shouldn’t have just skimmed the schedule!” She cursed, grabbing her things and running, probably towards hair and makeup.

     You rolled your eyes at her back, smiling. You loved Angela, but you couldn’t deny she could be clueless sometimes.

      Shayne turned to you, “So, you exited to meet Anthony?”

      “I’m excited to see what all the hype’s about,” you said.

      You had begun working at Smosh exactly three months ago and you hadn’t  known who Anthony was until very recently. 

      But since Ian and Anthony had bought Smosh, he was all anyone was talking about. The cast members who were around before Anthony left had been sharing stories about him all week.

     Most of your coworkers had already met him—or, been reacquainted with him—at a meeting him and Ian had held after it was announced that they were buying their company back.

     You, unfortunately, had called in sick that day, and had yet to come face to face with him. 

    All you knew was that Anthony was Ian’s best friend who he’d started this company with. That he’d left a few years back. And that now he was rejoining Smosh as one of the owners. 

     Today was going to be Anthony’s first official day back on set, and you were looking forward to finally meeting him.

     “You’re gonna love him, trust me.”

      Shayne’s voice brought you out of your thoughts and you stood up, checking your watch.

      “You wanna head over for Who Meme’d It?” You asked him, realizing you only had a quarter of an hour.

      “I guess I could suit up,” Shayne answered, nodding and walking towards the entryway.

      You began walking with him down the hall and towards the Who Meme’d It set when you realized—

      “Crap, I forgot my glasses!” you exclaimed. “I’ll catch up with you in a few.”

     “Good idea, wouldn’t want you pulling an Angela,” Shayne joked as you turned and hustled in the other direction. 

     Your glasses were in your bag, halfway across the building. Even though you had become accustomed to the layout of Smosh after a few months there, you still didn’t know the studio like the back of your hand yet—maybe like the back of your ring finger.

     You picked up your pace to a jog, passing office after office and set after set.

     You rounded a corner, seeing the hall that led to the room that held your belongings.

     You slowed down only a little as you pushed open the door to your final destination and—

     Slam!

     The door stopped mid-open as its momentum was stopped by the object you had hit with the door.

     No, not object. Person.

     You heard a cry from the other side of the door and you rushed through the doorway.

     “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you hurried out, seeing a man on his back as he pushed himself up from the ground.

     “I forgive you, but my nose might not,” the man said, letting out a wry chuckle.

     You offered him your hand and he took it, pulling himself to a standing position.

     “But,” he said, “no real damage done.”

     Now that he was standing in front of you, you got a good look at the man.

     And wow.

     He was wearing a long-sleeved black silk shirt and gray slacks, his outfit hugging his tall, toned frame. His hair was tousled, no doubt from making contact with the ground, and a curl fell onto his forehead.

     You couldn’t believe you’d whacked someone so attractive with a door.

     You caught yourself staring and quickly cleared your throat, looking around the room.

      “Well,” you said, “I was coming in here to get my glasses, and I guess I need them more than I thought. Sorry again for attacking you.”

      The man laughed, “Don’t worry about it. You just made my day that much more exciting.”

      You smiled. “I, uh, don’t remember seeing you at work before. Are you new here?”

      You were standing here, trying not to blush from the embarrassment of what you’d just done and from the way he was looking intently into your eyes—you might as well try to get to know the man.

      An amused look passed over his face and his eyes danced with an inside joke that you didn’t quite get.

     “You could say that, yeah. I guess you could say it’s my first day here at Smosh”

     Great, you thought. His first day and this was how he was greeted.

     “Well, welcome to Smosh,” you gestured around you at the scene that had just played out. “We have one hell of a welcome committee.”

     “I’ll say,” the man said, his eyes roaming over you before landing on your eyes.

     Now it was impossible to stop the heat from flooding your cheeks, you only hoped he had the good grace to pretend not to notice.

     “So, um,” you got out, “are you cast or crew?”

     “Both,” the man said, after a minute, “I’m kinda going to be doing both. 

    “Well,” you said, “If you ever need anything, I’m here to help.”

     “I’ll take you up on that then,” he said, putting a hand in his pocket. “I just might need you.”

     “‘Course I’ve only been here for a few months myself,” you told him, “You may be better served by one of our older members.”

     “And if I insist on you?” The man stepped closer to you.

     “Well then,” you said, breathlessly, “I guess I can’t stop you. I hope I get to see you around.”

      “Ditto, ” he sent you a grin. “And not just because I like looking at you.”

     You raised an eyebrow, willing your cheeks to calm down. 

     “You’re not to bad yourself,” you shot back. “Or, I’m assuming you you weren’t. Before the door accident.”

      He shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”

      You checked your watch. You had already been here talking to this man for much longer than you thought. It was corset to go back and forth with him, you’d almost forgot the reason you’d been here in the first place. You didn’t want to be late for the shoot, as fun as this was. 

     “Well,” you started, sticking out your hand, “I better be going. But it was nice to meet you. I’m (Y/n), by the way.”

     “I’m—” The man started, looking conflicted as he took your hand in his, “I meant to ask you, is there a sign in sheet somewhere? I couldn’t find it when I came in.”

     His hand lingered on yours a bit longer than necessary before he pulled away. You supposed you could take one tiny detour before heading back.

   “Right this way,” you smiled before turning around and letting him follow you.

     You spoke as you walked. “We used to keep it by the entrance, but ever since we remodeled it kind of got shoved into a storage closet. Which is a lot more out of the way for everyone, but no one moves it back.”

     You turned around, grinning at him. “You’ll find we’re very efficient here.”

     You found the man looking at you, amused. You furrowed your brow at him, but he gestured for you to lead the way, so you turned around and kept walking.

      “And voila,” you said, reaching the storage room. “The jewel of Smosh.”

     You led him into the room, piled high with supplies and old costumes and props no one used anymore. You cleared some items off a table, uncovering the sign in sheet that legally you were all supposed to use every day.

     “You’ll find that some people,” you gestured to the piece of paper on the clipboard. “Don’t actually sign in.”

     You picked up a pen, hurriedly writing your name down. The man chuckled.

     “I bet those people are annoying,” he teased.

     You noticed how close he was standing to you. There was inches between you now as you talked. 

     You had a sudden mental imagine of him closing the gap between you. You shook it off. 

     You just met him! You told yourself. But, why did it feel like you’d known him much longer?

     “Very,” you almost whispered. You handed him the pen.

     “And also incredibly sexy,” he said, taking the pen from you, your fingers grazing.

     Your breathing hitched as he turned to fully face you, looking down into your eyes. 

     “(Y/n)?” He said.

     “Yeah?” You breathed.

     “Stop me if this is too forward,” he leaned towards you slowly and before you could think twice you pressed your lips to his.

     And then you were kissing him. One of his hands found its way to you hat and and the other was wrapped around your waist. 

     You placed your arms around his back as he kissed you.

     This was all moving so fast, you thought. But somehow, it didn’t seem wrong. 

    Suddenly, you were lifted from the ground as he set you down in the table, deepening the kiss as you wrapped your legs around him.

     You took your hands from him and used them to prop yourself up in the table. Your left hand landed on something hard and sharp.

     You winced and the man pulled way, looking at you searchingly.

     You pulled the object from where it had met your palm, lifting it up to show him. 

     “Well,” you said, looking down at it and laughing, “I guess this broken clock has had enough kissing for one day.”

     “Way to kill the mood, man,” he addressed the clock.

     Clock. A sudden though hit you, now that you were able to think again. You were so going to be late.

     You stood up quickly. “I have to go.”

     “Damn, I was that bad? You could’ve just said so.” He teased. 

     “No,” you waved it away, “Not at all. I’m just going to be late for a shoot. I better run.”

     “Well,” the man said, kissing your hand, “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, (Y/n).”

     “Ditto,” you said, echoing his earlier comment before smiling and walking out the door.

     Well, that just happened, You thought to yourself as you hurried back to set. It wasn’t ever day you kissed people you hardly knew in the storage room.

     As you pondered this, you realized you never had learned his name. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You plopped down in between Angela and Shayne, still thinking of nothing but your interesting encounter earlier even though it had been hours.

      You had just made it to the Who Meme’d It shoot, after running though the building, and managed to divert everyone’s questions on where you had been. 

     Now that it was over, you and many of your other cast mates sat in the main studio, apparently watching whatever video was being filmed in there.

     “So,” Shayne turned to you, gesturing at the set, “Did you get a chance to meet Anthony before this shoot?”

     You turned your head towards where he had pointed. Ian was sitting down next to the man you had met prior to this, deep in a discussion with him. Your heart leapt when you thought of him.

     “Who?” You asked, only partially paying attention to this conversation. 

     Shayne pointed at the man next to Ian. The man who you had just been making out with in a storage closet.

     “Anthony. You remember Anthony, right? Bought Smosh. Owner of the company. Your boss.”

     You looked towards the set. Bought Smosh. This was the video Angela had been referring to. 

     Which meant that was—

     Owner of the company. Your boss. Anthony. 

     Your mystery man was Anthony.

     You had just kissed your boss.

     “That’s Anthony?” Your voice came out as a squeak.

     “Yeah,” Shayne said slowly, his brow furrowed. “Who did you think he was?”

     “That can’t be Anthony!”

     “What?”

     “That can’t be Anthony, because I just made out with him!” You whisper yelled.

     “You what?” Angela and Shayne said in unison. 

     “He told me he was new here, I didn’t know who he was!” You defended.

     “How could you not know what Anthony looked like?” Shayne asked, baffled.

     “I don’t know,” you shot back, “He’s been gone for like six years!”

     “You don’t watch our videos?” He said incredulously.

     “Is ok, neither do I,” Angela leaned over, piping in.

     “I watched a few before I auditioned,” you said, remembering. “And sometimes I watch some of the ones I’m in…”

     You trailed off.

     “Wow,” Angela shook her head, “You kissed Anthony Padilla. Before some of us even met him. There goes my shot at a raise.”

     “What do I do?” You asked them, biting your lip.

     “Well, I’d suggest you start by talking to him,” Shayne advised, pointing to the front of the room.

     The shoot for this video was just ending—it must have been almost over by the time you walked in—and you watched as the director called cut and everyone began to disperse.

     You saw Anthony walk off set and begin to talk to a couple crew members. 

     Shayne was right—you would have to talk to him eventually. You stood up and walked over to where Anthony was standing.

     You waited until he was done with his conversation before going up to him.

     “You’re Anthony Padilla,” you said.

     He raised his hand in the air. “You caught me. I figured you’d find out eventually.”

     “But why?” You asked, “Why let me believe you were a new Smosh member.”

     Anthony rubbed a hand behind his neck. “Well, technically I am new here. Reborn—like a phoenix.”

     You giggled and he continued.

     “And, you know, I kind of liked the idea that someone here didn’t know who I was. No pre-judgements or beforehand knowledge. To you I wasn’t ‘the guy who left and came back’. I guess I liked that you knew me as me, the guy you hit with a door and not Anthony Padilla.”

     “I don’t know about that,” you teased, “Just because I didn’t know what you looked like, doesn’t mean I haven’t heard stories about you.”

     “And I’d love to hear all of them,” he said, stepping closer, “say on Friday at around six?”

     “Anthony,” you said, using his name for the first time, “We can’t do this. You’re my boss, in case you forgot.”

     “One of the perks of owning your own company,” he whispered, “is that I can do this.”   

     He leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips before pulling away, his eyes teasing. 

     “With your consent, of course. And I’d love to see you again—if you’ll allow me to.”

     You giggled. “I’d like that a lot.”

     Anthony brushed the hair back from your face and kissed you one last time before stepping backwards a few steps.

     “So,” he said, “I’ll see on Friday then.”

     He took a few more steps, gesturing to the doorway behind him.

     “That is, if you don’t kill me first.”

     You smiled as the memory of earlier that day resurfaced and you watched as Anthony turned around and strolled out the door, passing Chanse as he did so.

     Of all the ways you’d imagined your first meeting with Anthony going, this certainly wasn’t one of them. 

    Who knew the infamous Anthony would end up being your mystery kisser and then your boss who you were going to continue seeing.

     You looked over to Angela and Shayne. Angela shot you a big thumbs up and Shayne shrugged and nodded as if to say ‘hey, go for it’ 

     You couldn’t believe the turn your day had taken. 

     You took a deep breath. You didn’t know what was going to happen from here, but you knew you were damn excited to find out.

     You looked up as Chanse walked over to the center of the room, continually glancing over his shoulder with a confused expression.

     “Ok,” he said, “does someone want to tell me who the hell that is?”

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

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed my loves!! check out my anthony hcs if you want more like this 🫶

[angelaslavendergirls]

Bring back smosh court if it’s fake. Deadass

[ancientvamp]

i've only seen one person make a post about this and it was on smosh twitter (home of bad takes) but i wanted to address it before it migrates onto here.

if you watched the video by creators for palestine (pls do if you haven't) you probably saw the clip of shayne and courtney together in their apartment speaking about the message/reason that creator for palestine exists. PLEASE do not screen shot that and add it to ur "cute shourtney moments" board or some lame shit like that. that video was not about them. it was about a genocide they're trying to spread awareness for and it was about raising money for those survivors still in rafah and palestine as a whole. do not get distracted. i saw a post talking about only them (they didn't even mention the video they got the screen shot from) and it made me sick.