Rorey

The video went up the next day, completely unedited. You’d wanted the video to be as genuine as possible, so you and Spencer had decided not to cut out him asking if you’re okay, or him bringing you tissues.

You were on the couch right now, doomscrolling through the comments.

@ltloll: Fucking hell. I wish Y/N so much healing.

@ryans-gf: Nah, Ryan’s not like that.

@s2sb2: is it weird i kinda saw it?? in the last moose master vid ryan was giving WEIRD vibes cause y/n was behind the cam.

@99eliza: we love you y/n!!

@clarissrer: um…idk

You look up as Spencer enters with a smile, holding a take out bag. “Chilli’s coming in hot!”

You laugh and discard your phone, standing. “Is it weird we’re having takeout two days in a row?”

“Nah.” He laughs, placing it on the counter as you reach for plates. “It’s been a rough week for both of us.”

You sigh and nod. “Yeah, I guess. The video up yet?” You ask, trying to hide what you’ve been doing for the last hour.

“Yeah. Been up a few hours now.”

You breathe deeply. “Cool.” Spencer paused, which made you stop. You breathed out a stuttering laugh as he levelled you with a stare. “What?”

“You’ve read the comments, haven’t you?” Spencer probes and you sigh, shoulders slumping in shame. “Y/N! I told you not to for your own good!”

“I’m sorry.” You say sadly, shaking your head. “I just…needed to know.”

“And?” He probes gently, reaching for the cutlery as you fiddle with your ring.

“Mostly positive.”

“…Mostly? There are people that don’t believe you?” He asks, eyes wide.

You laugh without humour. “It’s a man’s world.” You’re quiet for a second, staring at the leaky kitchen tap that never stops dripping. Spencer’s quiet beside you, like he can tell that silence is what you need. You speak only when it begins to weigh on you.

“Every time I think of him…I get this sickening feeling of familiarity.” You say, voice practically a whisper. The drip of the tap feels loud in your ears, and you can suddenly hear the ticking of the hallway clock that you’d subconsciously tuned out. “Like…the wrong person knows me too well. And I know him too well.” You sigh, scraping your hair away from your face and tucking a loose strand behind your ear. “And then suddenly, I find myself aware that he wasn’t always the wrong person.”

Spencer’s quiet, blue eyes wide. You stand in his gaze, staring back. For the first time, you felt like somebody could fully see you. You felt like he was reading your soul.

“I’m amazed that you loved him.” Spencer responds, voice soft. The clock feels like it’s getting louder. “Having that much love in your heart…it’s beautiful. You’re amazing.” He comforts, reaching over and placing his hands over yours.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and instead shake your head. “It’s amazing right up until I’m avoiding my own eyes in the mirror because I’m so ashamed that I stayed. Up until I was alone in the bedroom clutching my own chest thinking I could die from the pain— thinking I could choke on it and he wouldn’t even care.”

He says nothing, but his breath stutters. It’s silent a beat longer. “You could be a poet.” The quiet compliment breaks the tension, and it crashes down, like a wave cresting on the shore, splashing over your ankles. You laugh and it feels like you could finally breathe.

“I’m not a poet, I’m just a woman.” You respond.

“Amy March?”

“Little Women.” You confirm with a grin, as he followed you to the table.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

It’s later that night Spencer guides you— freshly showered, your hair still in a towel turban that always makes him laugh— to the couch. You eyes fall on the screen.

“What’s this?”

“Resident Evil 4 remake.” He responds, plopping down next to you with a loud sigh, controller in his hands. Your skin burns when his trousers brush against your thigh. “Thinking of showing it to Angela and Amanda.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” You respond with a grin and he chuckles. “Isn’t this the best one?”

“Disagree.” Spencer says loudly. “It’s arguably the 2 remake.”

“It’s subjective!” You argue with a laugh.

“It’s only subjective when you’re wrong!” He responds and you throw your head back and laugh. You expect him to hit play but turn and catch him watching you with a soft, loaded gaze and his cheeks red.

“What?” You ask.

“You’re beautiful.” He responds again, and you snort, rolling your eyes. He smiles and turns to the screen, already going on a rant about the game before it even loads. “So in this one you play a U.S. agent Leon S. Kennedy that’s sent to Spain to save the presidents daughter…”

You partially zone out, just watching him talk with a grin on his face. You didn’t have the heart to remind him that you’d played all of the Resident Evils in college and loved them enough to know the lore. You loved seeing him talk, the way he goes on small tangents and waves his hands around to emphasise his points.

He gets to a quieter part of the game when he finally notices you looking at him.

“What?”

It’s your turn to smile this time. “You’re beautiful.”

He snorts and whacks his shoulder into yours, shaking his head with a laugh, and your eyes trace the crinkles by his eyes. You feel like you could draw them from memory. “Shut up.”

You laugh along, letting him continue on with the game, but you continued to stare at him. It wasn’t a joke, he really was beautiful.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

The bathroom was illuminated only by the light up mirror as you rubbed in the moisturiser, humming under your breath. The knock was so soft you almost missed it but you turned your head to the door. “Yeah?” You ask.

Spencer opens the door, clearly almost ready for bed, old band t-shirt on and a stained pair of grey sweatpants, feet bare. You smile at him and he smiles back, sitting on the toilet seat, watching you continue.

“What’s up?” He says, voice awkward. You laugh.

“Nothing much, ‘sup with you?” You respond sarcastically.

“Y/N.” Spencer says, voice dropping an octave. It always did that when he meant business— it was the voice he used when the cast were fucking about to much and he needed them to get back on track. You felt a shot of lightening in your back that confused you.

“Spencer.” You respond, copying his serious tone as you grab your comb.

“Look. I know you don’t like to talk about it, and you can tell me to fuck off if you want and I will but…” He paused and your hands stopped moving through your hair, just staring at him. “What you said earlier. Are you okay?”

You sigh and place the comb down, leaning against the counter. “No.” You say, and sigh. You don’t think you’ve answered that question truthfully for five years.

“You wanna talk about it?” Spencer asks, voice soft, like he was actually asking. Not demanding. It felt foreign to your ears.

“He used to be familiar.” You say quietly, avoiding his gaze, and subsequently meeting your own in the mirror. You can’t hold it for more than a second, fixing your eyes on the marble countertop. “The way he left…made him unfamiliar. I don’t know the person he was when he left me.” You say, feeling like you’re choking on the words. “I miss the boy who used to love me. The boy that wanted all of my tomorrows. I don’t miss the man he became.”

Spencer nods like he understands. You can’t help but feel slightly bitter about the fact he never will.

“I used to have dreams,” You continued. “Dreams where he’d hold me just to hold me, and not because of some possessive power play. Where he’d see me, sick with a runny nose and surrounded by tissues and call me beautiful. Where he’d kiss me in the middle of the milk aisle just because. Where we’d stay up until 4am because he wouldn’t stop asking me questions. And then I’d wake up, and he wouldn’t look at me. He’d hold me at an arms length unless someone else was around. He’d never ask me questions. Like he didn’t even care to know me.” You sigh, and ignore the stinging in your eyes. “I only felt at home in my dreams.”

Spencer stood and took you in his arms. Holding you just to hold you. He stroked your hair gently, and you let him sway you. You tucked your head in his neck, closing your eyes to the scent of Old Spice. “You deserve more than just your dreams.” He says softly. “You deserve someone who feels like home.”

His voice settled in your heart, and you could have sworn if your ribcage wasn’t there, it might have jumped out of your chest and landed at his feet.

You feel like home, a small voice in your head says. Instead, you say nothing, and hug him tighter, letting the swaying settle your soul into a begrudging calm.

Like a ship being swayed by unforgiving waves.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

a/n: if you can’t tell be the extremely sad chapter, i am not doing well 😝

this is based on a real conversation i had with my mam after my first girlfriend cheated on me (was not fun) and remains the most honest and best conversation i have ever had. also, she did say i should be a poet lmao but i though writer was the next closest thing (prose and rhyming schemes are not my forte).

thanks sm for all your patience while i fought my mind to get this written, i notice your support and every comment makes me feel good. love you all so much 💕x

if you liked this, please consider buying me kofi!

Monday morning came, and you slept through your alarm, waking up to Ryan yelling at you that you’re going to be late. You rush to get dressed, chucking on your Smosh Games sweatshirt and a pair of jeans, only having time to wipe the sleep from your eyes before Ryan’s rushing you out of the door.

You both forget about the concealer on the bathroom counter that was supposed to remind you to cover up your eye.

Walking into Smosh five minutes before call time confused you. Several people kept glancing at you, concern written on their faces. Were they concerned because you’d never been this late before? It was only your second week, surely it wasn’t that weird?

Ryan peels of when you get to your desk, needing the toilet before all-hands. You throw your jacket over the back of your chair, switching on your monitor when you hear Spencer enter the cubicle. “Hey, Spence.” You greet, looking up and smiling at him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He greets, looking up from his phone before stopping in his tracks and staring at you. “Um.”

“You okay?” You ask, chuckling as you glance down at slack. “Have I got something in my face?”

“You could say that.” Spencer retorts, walking over to his desk opposite yours like in a trance. “May I ask why you have a black eye?”

You pause in your rapid typing of a message back to Erin and freeze. Shit. You look up slowly and give a weak smile. “It’s nothing.” You laugh weakly.

Spencer raises his eyebrows and stares at you, placing his kickstart on the desk with a clunk. “Really?” He asks, disbelieving. “Are you sure it has nothing to do with what we discussed last week?”

You shake your head and Spencer opens his mouth again, eyes blazing, just as you hear a commotion by the cafeteria. You glance at your watch and breathe a sigh of relief. All-hands came just in time.

Walking into all hands was nerve wracking, as every time someone looked at you, they always did a double take. You used the all-hands meeting to zone out and think of an excuse, your mind working overdrive as you come up with answers to questions that might not even be asked.

You’d come to the conclusion that you’d go off of relative truth and tell the story that gave you a black eye in high school— but pretend like it happened over the weekend. Fool proof.

Just as you thought, when the all hands was dismissed, Amanda, Trevor and Angela came rushing over. Amanda took to inspecting your eye, while Angela threw a million questions at you. Spencer, who’d been sat next to you throughout all-hands, fidgeting like crazy, watched on suspiciously with Trevor, arms crossed.

“So, crazy story, right? I was at field hockey—“

“You’re in a hockey team?” Angela interrupts.

“Team is an over dramatic term. More like club.” You say and Trevor chuckles. “Well anyway, our goalie couldn’t make it because she had to take her kid to soccer practice so for some reason, I’m the replacement.” You proceed to rattle of a tantalising tale of a mom with a grudge who hit the hockey ball at you with full force, hitting you straight in the eye.

Amanda winced and Trevor laughed, before being whacked in the shoulder by Angela. “Does it still hurt?” She asked.

“A little tender, but it’s not as bad as Saturday night.” You answer truthfully. “I couldn’t see out of it.”

“Did the woman get in trouble?” Amanda asked, incredulous.

“Well, it did look like she was just aiming for the goal, so I couldn’t prove malicious intent.” You joke and Trevor snickers. “It’s okay, though, I don’t mind. Joy of the game.” You joke.

Angela pipes up. “Heart of the cards!” You all dissolved into giggles, and they eventually wander off to their various shoots, lingering smiles on their faces. You knew the story would be everywhere by lunch. Which is what you hoped for.

Spencer stood next to you, not saying a word. “You never mentioned hockey.” He said, voice flat. You knew he didn’t believe a word you said.

“You never asked.” You reply, making your way back to the Games Cube. Spencer snorted and followed.

“So me asking on your first day here if you had any hobbies, wasn’t me asking?”

You stop at your desk and give him a glare for pestering. “No.” You say petulantly, logging back in to your computer.

“It was Ryan, wasn’t it?” Spencer asked, and you frantically look around for anyone that could have overheard. “What did you do this time?” He says sarcastically, eyes filled with fury.

“Shut up.” You hiss. “It’s a hockey injury.”

“You don’t play hockey.” He argued back. “Ryan wouldn’t let you.” He says. And you knew he was right, but you rolled your eyes.

“You know nothing about our relationship.” You snap.

“I know enough.” He snarks, staring at you with his arms folded. You thanked the gods when a Slack message popped up, a message from Sienna— a new editor— asking you to pop over to her desk as she had some questions about a recent video she was editing. You stood quickly, grabbing a diet coke from the mini fridge under your desk.

“I’m going to go do my job, Spencer. I suggest you do the same.” You state, before leaving the cubicle, walking over to the editors.

“You need to tell someone, Y/N!” He called after you.

You could feel his gaze prickling the hairs on your neck, and felt the urge to apologise because, well, he wasn’t wrong with his assumptions, but kept walking.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

Right after lunch, you’re set up in the games room, fiddling with the lighting as Shayne, Courtney, Angela, Chanse and Ryan are sat around the table, Ryan front and centre.

They’re joking about, nudging each other playfully as Spencer shuffles the cards, standing in front of the camera, staring at Ryan, fists clenched. You walk behind Ryan, who didn’t seem to notice the stare, moving back the plants slightly so Angela doesn’t hit them if she swings her arm out, being sat so close, when Chanse speaks up.

“Y/N! Is your eye okay?”

Ryan’s head snaps to you while you laugh, straightening up and grinning at the group. Spencer grunts. “Fine and dandy.” You joke and Courtney giggles.

“What happened?” Shayne asks, and Angela opens her mouth to speak before Ryan blurts in.

“Oh she didn’t tell you? The funniest story.” Before you can stop him, Ryan clumsily tells a story about you hitting your eye on a cupboard door. There were a lot of holes in the story and he stuttered at the follow up questions, but you made sure to smile and nod along whenever they glanced at you.

Angela was staring at the side of your head, confused. You don’t blame her. She’d now heard two different stories. And if it really was as innocent as we were making it out to be, why an earth are there two variations of what happened?

Spencer is shaking his head the entire time, placing the two piles of card on the table angrily before walking off. Shit.

When Ryan is done with your story, you hurriedly announce last call for food/water/toilet breaks before filming. You were desperate to start and know that Spencer couldn’t start anything for at least two hours while this is being filmed.

Angela gets up to grab some water, and grabs Shayne’s arm as she goes, motioning for him to follow. Ryan, distracted by conversation with Chanse, doesn’t notice when Courtney, curious as to the urgency, follows.

Two minutes later, they’re back. Shayne and Courtney, empty handed, Angela with a La Croix. Shayne is looking at Ryan, stony faced, while Courtney gives you a small sad smile.

Fuck. They’ve worked it out. Or at least part of it. You feel the need to warn Ryan but Spencer stands before you can say anything. Walking behind camera one, he speaks. “All right guys. You ready?”

“Yeah.” Ryan answers, staring down camera three (the one you’re standing directly behind, next to Brennan). “You want me on intro?”

“Well, you’re the one in the middle.” Spencer snarks, voice low and Ryan rolls his eyes. You notice Courtney frantically whispering to Chanse, whose face was blank as he leaned sideways slightly to listen.

“Court, Chanse, break it up.” You call, putting on your producer voice to hide the fact you were scrambling. Angela gives you a look that you ignore as you count down the intro.

“Hey guys! Welcome back to Smosh Games, and today we’re doing everyone’s favourite game, Moose Master!” He calls and everyone cheers. Damn they really were actors, given that Angela was glaring at the side of Ryan’s face not even two seconds ago. “This is the game we all know and love but if you don’t know the rules— and there are nothing but rules— there’ll be a handy link in the description below to teach you all about it.” He finishes and grins.

That damned grin.

For the next two hours, you throw yourself into your job, not missing a single slip up. It’s eventually down to Courtney and Ryan, both doing a cheap, low budget version of a Mexican stand off for the cameras. You laugh.

The game comes to its inevitable end when Ryan forgets to speak in a french accent— one of the added rules— and you loudly call for a bummer card. Ryan doesn’t move for a few seconds, staring at you from behind the camera. You shrink, partly behind Brennan before Spencer buts in. “Pull a bummer dude, stop being a sore loser.” He demands, and Ryan does, muttering under his breath.

You declare Courtney the winner— making sure to exaggerate a french accent for the camera as you do so— and everyone jumps up and cheers, Ryan left alone at the table, head in his hands staring down at his cards in dismay. You stare at him, not quite sure what to say, when Spencer comes up next to you and places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Courtney dances behind Ryan, grinning at the camera as she does a quick outro, before Spencer calls cut. Most of them move away from the table, behind the camera, chatting loudly about what transpired. You giggle as you start reorganising.

Ryan doesn’t move for a second, and stares at you as you move about. He grabs your wrist as you lean over the table to collect the cards. “Why’d you do that?”

“You lost.” You say, voice trembling.

“So? Let Spencer call it. You didn’t need to.” He murmurs. You hear footsteps approaching behind you and Ryan let’s go of your wrist. You sweep his cards from in front of him and straighten.

“It’s my job, Ry.”

He scoffs and stands, right as Shayne appears in your peripheral vision. “You and this damn job.” He walks off, muttering to himself as you turn to face Shayne.

“Hey, good job today.” You say with a smile.

“What happened to your eye?” Shayne asks, blue eyes staring at you with concern.

Your eyebrows crease and you laugh. “Ryan told you.”

“But you told Angela it was a hockey accident.” He insisted and you could feel the colour drain from your face. You nervously laugh, walking over to the shelf and placing the cards pack back in their place.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mutter and Shayne steps closer.

“Y/N, are you safe?”

You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Shayne. I appreciate the worry, but I’m fine.” You insist. He stares at you for a second longer before nodding hesitantly.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

That night, your legs feel like they’re going to fall off, and your eyes hurt from staring at screens all day.

For a brief moment, you consider ordering some takeout, putting your feet up in front of the TV, and having an early night.

But then you’re struck with the stark memory of Ryan’s fist hitting your face, and the pain that it caused, and the memory of only having half vision for a day, and you sigh and cook dinner.

Ryan complains that it takes too long, and that it’s too spicy. And for a brief moment, you imagine what life would be like without him.

But only for a moment. Because he needs you, and you most certainly need him.

Right?

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

a/n: just wanted to let yall know that this is the last chapter i’ve actually written. i’ve fallen behind on my schedule due to things in my personal life and my mental health has really taken a dip the past few days. im gonna try to get the next part written and released soon but im struggling to do much of anything atm so just have a little patience, love yall 💕

Ryan had taken to insulting you to stop you taking the job. Your throat was starting to hurt from defending yourself. The apartment was dark around you, save a singular lamp in the corner of the living room.

Ryan’s brown eyes burned with fury, and yours stung with tears. “Ryan, I really am ready to go back to work.” You plead.

You’d been going around in circles for fifteen minutes and he wasn’t budging. “Oh yeah? And what if I’m not ready?” He snarks, stepping closer to you like a lion stalking its prey. “What if I’m not ready for you to start slacking at home? What if I get home and dinner isn’t done, or the dishes aren’t done, or my laundry?” He’d stepped forward at every question, hovering over you.

You look up at him and stutter. “I— there’s going to be some adjustments. I’m not always going to be available to do those things. But I’ll meal prep on weekends and, if we get back early and you’re happy to wait a few hours, I can cook—“

“I never used to wait.” Ryan interrupted dangerously.

“It’s a change, I’m not discounting that, but I really want this job, Ry.” He doesn’t look any happier and you sigh. “I’m going to go shower. Big day tomorrow.”

“Don’t walk away from me.” He demands, hand flying out to grab your wrist, squeezing it tightly in his grip.

“Ow!” You cry, feeling the pressure of his grip tighten painfully. “Ryan!”

“I don’t want you to work.” He mutters menacingly.

“It’s not like I’m going to the other side of LA! I’m in the same building as you. You can come see me at any time!” You cry and gasp in relief as his grip loosens.

He’s looking at you thoughtfully, head tilted like he was working things out. Finally he released your wrist entirely and you snatch it back, cradling it with your other hand.

“Why did you do that?!” You gasp and Ryan stares at you. You turn around and rush down the hall to the bathroom slamming the door shut. You stare at yourself in the mirror questioning his behaviour.

By the time you’re out of the shower, the redness in your wrist has transformed into a deeper red, with a tinge of blue around the edges. Great. A bruise.

You sigh and wrap a towel around you, walking into the bedroom and freezing when Ryan’s sat on your bed, staring down at his hands. You move around him cautiously, throwing on some pyjamas and drying your hair gently with a towel. When it’s damp, Ryan speaks up.

“Can you sit?”

You look up, and his face looks broken. Your heart stutters at the sight and you drop the towel, sitting next to him hesitantly. He takes your hands gently in his, pushing up the sleeve of the pyjamas and tutting when he sees the bruise on your wrist. “Oh baby, I’m sorry.”

You nod and scan his face, quietly whispering back. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know what came over me. I guess I just didn’t want to see you less. I remember Alex Tran, the last producer, he was constantly running around, always busy. I don’t want that for you. I never want you to worry about anything.” He said slowly, and you nod.

“I know. But I want to worry about something other than if the food will be done by the time you come home. I want something to matter.” You whisper earnestly. Ryan’s grip on your hand tightens again before releasing them all together.

“Doesn’t our relationship matter?”

“Of course.” You whisper back. “But if you can work, I should be able to, too.” Ryan steadies you with a stare before nodding.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He stands, brushing invisible dirt off his jeans. “I better shower as well.”

You nod as he leaves the room and fight back a small smile. You couldn’t wait to go back to work.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

Walking into the office on the first day was nerve wracking. Ryan walked a few steps in front of you across the parking lot, leaving you with your emotions. Your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement as you entered the building. It was bustling, and pretty much everyone was here now, despite call time not being for another half an hour.

Ryan led you to the kitchen, where he poured himself a cup of coffee. You felt in the mood for some green tea, so grabbed one of the teabags to get started.

“Good morning, Miss Producer.” Courtney says, entering the kitchen with a smile, Shayne following behind her.

You laugh and turn around. “Stop. I’ll get a big head.”

“It’d be well deserved.” Spencer adds, stopping at the doorway of the kitchen, kickstart in hand. “Morning, Y/N.”

“Morning, Spence.” You greet and Ryan clears his throat.

“Hello, Spencer.”

Spencer nods at him. “Ryan.”

Ryan turns to you and smiles tightly. “Come on, babe, let me show you around before all-hands.”

“Actually, Ry, I’ve gotta show Y/N a few things she’ll need to know for her producer role, so I’ll take her.” Spencer buts in, smiling at Ryan, eyes sharp.

“I really don’t think—“ Ryan starts but Shayne jumps in, overly cheerful.

“Oh, I’ve got to show you some of my memes for Who Meme’d It?” The blonde guy grabs Ryan’s arm and pulls him out of the kitchen. Ryan glances back at you nervously as Shayne continues on. “You gotta tell me if it’s obvious I made them, okay? They all guessed Secret Shayne last time.”

Courtney and Spencer nod at each other as Spencer nods for you to follow. “Let me show you the games stage. I know you saw it last time you were here with Flip 7, but there’s some stuff you need to know.” You nod along as he tells you various things, sipping your tea as you follow. He then stops at the couch, and sits down, pulling out a folder. “Just a few things for you to sign.”

As you’re reading through them, tapping a pen lightly on the table as you do so, Spencer clears his throat. “Are you okay?”

You look up, confused and laugh. “Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Spencer looks at you, his hair looking impossibly soft under the gentle lighting of the room. His eyes flick between yours before he speaks. “Court told me what happened last week. In the kitchen with Ryan.”

You snort to try and hide how your shoulders immediately tense, pulling down the sleeve of your hoodie over your wrist nervously and tucking your hair behind your ear. “Oh, that was nothing.”

“Y/N, he threatened you.” Spencer said seriously.

“Pfft, no he didn’t.” You snort, brushing him off.

“Then it was implied.” He insisted, shuffling closer. “Y/N, are you safe?”

You laugh and look at him, momentarily breathless with how sincere his eyes are. “I’m safe, Spencer. I’m…happy.” You reassure, though the last word comes out more like a question. Spencer’s eyes continue to scan your face, and though still unsure, he seems relatively okay with what he saw, and sits back. He reaches out and points at a paragraph on the contract. “This just refers to the equipment you’ll be responsible for during your time here.”

You nod along as he explains various things, signing your swooping signature at the very end. “Great!” He grins and stands. He glances at his watch. “And just in time for all-hands.”

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

All-hands was a chaotic, loud mess and you loved it. It was mostly announcements, or shout outs and you grinned. You could get used to this.

Towards the end, Spencer stood up, calling attention to him. “Hey guys. Just thought you could join me in welcoming our new Games producer, Y/N!” Everyone clapped and there was a loud cheer from the back that was absolutely Angela. You smiled as you stood up, waving to everyone.

“Hi guys, great to be here! I’m Y/N. You may know me as Ryan’s girlfriend but I promise that’s not why I got the job. Nepotism sucks.” Everyone giggled and your eyes sought Ryan’s in the crowd. They were narrow and displeased, and he was subtly shaking his head. You glanced over at Spencer, who was grinning in encouragement. You smiled back and continued. “I can’t wait to get to work and earn my place in the Smosh family!”

Everyone cheered and Bailey stood up to make another announcement as you sat down. Spencer leaned over to you, whispering lowly. “You already fit right in.”

You shoved him playfully. “Shut it.” He laughs and you join, giggling quietly until everyone starts to move away. You must have missed the dismissal.

Spencer stands and grins. “So we don’t have a games shoot for about an hour, so I thought we could get you situated at your desk, get your IT sorted with Tim, and then you could help me out with the shoot.”

You looked at him with wide eyes as you weren’t expecting to be thrown right into it. Spencer chuckles, placing his hands on your shoulders, grounding you. “You’ll be fine, I promise. You’ll be more on a backseat until you feel ready to step up. If you ever wanna jump in and help, that’s amazing, but don’t feel pressured to until you’re ready.” He says and you grin, nodding enthusiastically.

“Yeah, okay.”

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

It was a jam packed day, with you and Spencer rushing around, never in the same place for too long. Yet somehow, Ryan seemed to be everywhere you went.

When you and Spencer were in your cube, Spencer leaning over your shoulder to point to something on your computer screen, Ryan was there, arms crossed, asking what was for dinner that night. Spencer had given him a dirty look.

When you and Spencer were huddled close, working out the logistics of a future live stream, Ryan was sat next to you, blurting out suggestions that would not work under any circumstances. Spencer had to ask him to leave, which he begrudgingly did, but not without looking at you for back up. You don’t give it. Boy, were you gonna hear about it later.

Finally, in the games shoot, you got a moment of peace. Ryan was in front of the camera, dressed in a top hat and waistcoat, talking about his mistresses in a strong british accent. You breathed a sigh of relief that for the first time, his attention was off you.

It was a simple video, a Don’t Win Mario Party, so you and Spencer were there to oversee more than anything, and clarify any rules if needed, though the cast mostly knew the drill by now. Spencer approached you as your arms were folded watching them on the screen by the camera. “Hey.”

You turn your head and smile, whispering back, “Hi.”

The four of the gentlemen burst into laughter suddenly and you and Spencer looked back at the monitor before he continued. “You’re doing great. Better than I expected for your first day.”

You chuckle lightly. “I think I’m flattered?”

Spencer shakes his head with a grin. “I just mean…there’s usually growing pains, y’know? A new person on the crew always changes the dynamic but you’ve kind of…fit right in.”

“I’m a woman of many talents.” You joke, banging your shoulder into Spencer’s jokingly. Ryan glances at you as Shayne and Chanse are in a 1v1, and you look away quickly.

“I know you weren’t sure of this for a while. But thanks for taking the job. I have a feeling you’ll make a lot of good changes.”

“I like your confidence.” You laugh, just as the boys all cry out. Ryan had gotten a star, rocketing him to first place.

“I say! Rigged! This fucker is rigged!” He calls as Shayne wheezes.

You giggle lightly and feel Spencer’s eyes on you. You turn and he gives you a small smile before leaving you at the monitor.

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

Lunchtime arrived and you practically ran to the cafeteria, stomach grumbling the whole way. You heard Spencer laughing from behind you and giggled to yourself as you went.

You sat on a large round table, Angela and Amanda either side of you, deep into a discussion about some broadway musical you didn’t follow, when you looked across the table to see Spencer and Ryan deep into what looked to be a serious conversation.

Ryan’s jaw was clenched, and a vein popping in his neck as he listened to Spencer speak. He didn’t seem to like what he was hearing. Spencer’s eyebrows were creased and his face stony as he spoke slowly to him, hand waving about to emphasise whatever he was saying.

You tilted your head, trying to lip read when Angela nudged you. “Y/N. You okay?”

You shake yourself out of it and look at her, smiling. “Yeah, yeah! What were you saying?”

Angela stared at you for a second, calculating, before bursting back into her rant, you nodding along as she did so, fighting the urge to look back over to the table.

Just as there was a pause in the conversation, Spencer stood abruptly, and most heads snapped to him in surprise. He was staring at Ryan (who looked resolute), somewhat shocked, before shaking his head in what seemed to be disgust and walking away, chucking his empty can in the trash as he did so.

Well. What was that about?

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ ⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚

a/n: lmk what you think! already about halfway through chapter four but i can feel myself slowing down. im actually writing this a day before it releases (scheduled posts are a blessing) so i’ve most likely written some of five by now. i still have no idea how many parts this will be but im thinking upwards of ten 😬 my creative juices keep flowing and i keep thinking of new things to add 😭

Walking into Ryan’s workplace was strange. You’d only ever seen this in the back of videos or on the rare occasion he’d FaceTime you to see what you’re up to. You wondered where he was now, as it was just approaching lunchtime and it seemed pretty empty.

Just as you were about to attempt to find someone, a man came out of the door to your right, staring down at his phone. You could see a deep green hat with ‘Smosh’ written in cursive on the front, and brown curls poking out from underneath. As the door swung shut behind him, you caught a glance at the room behind him, a long table and several chairs. Must be the conference room.

He looked up just as you’d built your the nerve to approach him, and looked surprised to see you standing there. “Um, hi, can I help you?”

“Hi, um, I’m Ryan’s girlfriend?” You greet, cringing at how unsure you sounded of that fact. “I came off to drop off his headphones. He left them at home.” The man’s eyes light up in recognition and he grins, stepping forward with his hand out to shake.

“Y/N, right?” He prods and you nod gratefully as you take his hand and shake it. “Spencer. He’s in a shoot at the moment, but I’m sure he’d love the surprise. I’ll take you there.”

“Oh! Thank you.” You murmured gratefully, following as he turns around. “So, what do you do at Smosh, Spencer?”

“I’m the director of the Games channel.” He says proudly, turning down a corridor.

“Oh wow. You must be real important. Too important to be walking me to my boyfriend.” You laugh.

“Don’t be silly.” He shrugs me off. “It’s nice to take a break, anyway.”

You tilt your head. “Directors a busy job, huh?” Spencer shakes his head and sighs as we stop outside a door and he checks his watch.

“Well, yeah, but I’m kind of doing two jobs at the moment. Our producer left two weeks ago and we haven’t found a replacement yet.”

You nod understandingly, shrugging your slipping bag back onto your shoulder. “I’ve been there. PA’s flaked on me all the time and then I was running around like a headless chicken all day.”

Spencer looked up from where he was glancing at his phone and eyed you. “You’re a director?”

You laugh and shake your head. “Producer. Not quite ready to climb a rung up that ladder yet.” I laugh. Spencer chuckles but is looking at you thoughtfully, right as sounds of moving chairs and fast talking can be heard from the other side of the door.

“Oh, they must be done filming. I better shoot off, but nice meeting you, Y/N.” Spencer smiles, walking away and down another corridor. You watched him go, a weird feeling lingering as you remembered how he scanned you from behind his glasses before the door swings open and Angela comes flying out, followed by a laughing Ryan and Shayne.

Angela spots you first, gasping loudly and flying at you. “Y/N! Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! Where have you been?” You laugh as she throws her arms around you and you give her a quick hug, making eye contact with Ryan over her shoulder.

“Hey!” You laugh loudly. Angela was the only person from Smosh that you’d met— other than Ryan, obviously, but you hadn’t seen each other since you and Ryan ran into her outside Chilli’s about six months prior. You’d originally met when Angela and Ryan had auditioned together (almost three years ago) at the very start of your relationship. You’d picked him up and You’d met in the parking lot outside. You hit it off and saw each other regularly, but over time you’d drifted.

It was nice to see an old friend, anyway.

“I’ve been good! Just keeping this one happy.” You joke, nodding your head to Ryan who smiled tightly. You look over to Shayne— who you knew because of videos that you’d watched and meeting him briefly over FaceTime— and smiled. “Hi, I’m Y/N! You done filming?”

“Shayne. And yeah, another round of Reddit stories.” He smiles back with a little wave.

“Nice!” You smile and Ryan clears his throat beside you.

“Hey, babe, what are you doing here?” Ryan asks with a tight lipped smile.

You cough and open your bag, pulling out his AirPods and handing them to him sheepishly. He took them and levelled you with a stare. “You said you’re going to the gym tonight, and I noticed you’d left them on the counter. You hate the gym without music.” You laugh nervously trying to ignore the heat you always get in your cheeks when he stares at you like this.

Shayne laughs and nods. “I’m the same, don’t worry, Ryan.“

You smile and Ryan walks over, slinging his arm over your shoulder, and you sink into him, sniffing his familiar cologne. “That’s my girl, don’t know what I’d do without her.” He grins, and kisses you on the side of your head, squeezing you shoulder tightly.

The door opens behind you and you all turn around to see Spencer’s head pop around the door, and he gives you a little smile before turning to the others. “Hey guys, Tommy wants you for socials before lunch.” Shayne and Angela both nod and follow Spencer, leaving you and Ryan alone.

You smile up at him, but he frowns back, eyebrows furrowing. “What did I tell you about coming here?”

Your face falls and you try to step back but Ryan keeps you under his arm. “I just thought—“

“Next time, call and ask if I want them first.” He says and your eyebrows furrow.

“But I’ve done that before and you told me never to call you at work again.” You respond, head tilting. Ryan’s face goes red and he leans forward.

“Are you disrespecting me?”

“No!” You rush to correct, stammering nervously. “N-no, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I swear.”

Ryan stares at you for a second longer before nodding. “Good. That’s my girl.”

The tension in your shoulders relaxes as he kisses you harshly on the mouth before backing off. “I’ll see you at home, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” You reply, smile dropping as the door swung shut behind him. The air around you was stifling and the skin on your shoulder was crawling.

You couldn’t have gotten out of there fast enough.

---

You were at the stove, carefully watching the pasta when your phone rang in your pocket. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unknown number. You picked up and placed the phone at your ear.

“Hello?“

“Hi, Y/N, it’s Spencer. We met this morning? I got your number from Angela, I hope you don’t mind.” Your memory rewinds to his soft curls and kind eyes and brown boots. You smile to yourself as you stir the pot.

“Oh, hey! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“What are you doing for work right now?” You tilt your head as the waters done boiling, and you turn off the stove as you respond.

“Um, nothing at the moment. Why?” You hadn’t worked for just over two years, once you’d moved in with Ryan. He said he never wanted you to have to work a day in your life. You’d thought it was sweet at the time, but you hated to admit it had become tedious after the first few months.

“Well, I ran it by a few of the executives and they’ve all agreed to offer you an interview. Obviously, you can say no, it just seemed like you’re the perfect fit personality wise and you already know most people at Smosh. And from the sounds of it, you’re experienced in the a producer department and Games could really use that right now.” Your mind is cast back to how disheveled and quite frankly, exhausted Spencer had seemed this morning and feel pity.

“Spencer—“

“Please, Y/N, just think about it. Discuss it with Ryan if you need to. You can reach me anytime on this number. If you want to go ahead, we can schedule an interview but that would be more a formality just to see the depth of your experience and stuff. Please, just consider it.” Spencer said, voice on the edge of begging.

You thought for a few more seconds and nodded to the empty room. “Okay. I’ll think about it.” You could hear Spencer’s audible breath of relief through the phone. “But, no promises, okay?”

“Yeah.” Spencer breathed. “Thank you. Give me a ring, whatever you decide.”

“I will.” You reply, and wait for the dial tone before placing your phone on the counter and staring at it, questioning. Should you do it? What would that mean for you and Ryan? Would it help? Make it worse? But you career would be back on track, and you wouldn’t feel quite so…stuck anymore. It definitely was a lot to consider, but you were leaning towards doing the interview and seeing what happened.

Ryan walked through the door to the kitchen and leant against the doorframe. “So. Who was that?”

You breathe a deep sigh, tensing your shoulders and turning to him, smiling at him softly. “I got a job interview.”

————————————————————————

a/n: sorry if i messed up the tenses at any point, i tried lmao. this is only part one. not sure how many parts this is gonna have lol.

this is set basically now? alex has left in this and that’s why a producer space is open. i love alex and i wish he could be in this fic (he most likely will be in future oneshots etc) just the entire premise of this fic wouldn’t work if he was still present lmao.

Ryan wasn’t happy. There was multiple yelling matches over a few days, one getting so bad that the police were called for a welfare check, your elderly neighbour, Rosemary, who you’d traded recipes with and had a good gossip, looking worriedly over their shoulders.

You insisted you were fine, just a row, and they’d looked at you, not saying much. You could tell what they were thinking but Ryan wasn’t like that. He’d never done that before.

He loved you.

“Look, Ry, I just want to go to the interview, okay? There might be a better candidate and I might not get the job.” Ryan stared at you calculating, and slowly nodded.

“You’re right. Go to the interview then.”

You nod happily and throw your hands over his shoulders jumping up and down. He chuckles.

“I’m just gonna call Spencer back to let him know.”

Ryan stiffens and shakes his head. “That’s okay. I’ll tell him at work today.”

“Oh, don’t worry it’ll only take a few seconds.” You laugh, brushing him off and taking your phone out of your pocket. Ryan grabs you wrist and snatches your phone, leaving you gasping in shock.

“I said,” He begins, voice low and sharp. “I’ll tell him.”

You nod hastily as he pockets your phone. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Ryan didn’t like you talking to other guys. It was protective, and sweet but sometimes you wished for a little more freedom.

He nodded and then his soft, gorgeous smile overcame his face, brown eyes twinkling. “I’ve got to get to work. Call time at 9. I love you, beautiful.” He steps forward and engulf you in a hug.

You sigh and let him rock you from side to side. “I love you more.” You answer as the two of you pull away and he kisses you strongly on the lips.

You follow him to the door, handing him his headphones as he went. “I’ll see you later.” He whispers, kissing you again.

“Later.” I agree.

---

When Ryan came home at 7, after the gym, you were wiping down the kitchen counter, ten more minutes on the oven timer.

“Hey, babe.” He greeted, kissing you on the check. You smiled and Ryan slid your phone back over to you. You glanced at the screen and spotted a missed call from your mom. You made a quiet promise to call her back tomorrow as Ryan slid into one of the chairs by the small round table crammed into your kitchen.

“How was work?”

“Good. Busy. Filmed three videos today.” He sighed, kicking off his trainers with a grunt. You walked over and picked them up, wandering back out to the hall to place them on the shoe rack before walking back.

“Oh yeah? Anything fun?”

Ryan snorted and nodded. “Yeah, I guess. We did a Challenge Pit, Who Meme’d It? and Moose Master.”

You nodded thoughtfully and went back to the counter, spraying it over once again. “Did you win?”

“No.” Ryan replied grumpily. “Shayne won Moose Master on a technicality.” He stood and grabbed a beer from the fridge as the oven timer went off and you rushed over to turn it off, not wanting to annoy him as he’d had such a busy day.

“Oh, babe, I’m sorry. You’re the winner in my heart.” You comforted. Ryan grunted, taking a swig of his bottle and placing it on the table.

“Yeah, well, the subscribers will be on my side, anyway.”

“I’m sure they will.” You nod enthusiastically as you place on oven mitts to take the chicken out of the oven.

“What did you make?” Ryan asks.

“Chicken and egg fried rice.”

Ryan humph’s. “You had all day and you made that?”

You stutter and feel your cheeks flame. “Well, I had to defrost the chicken.” Ryan’s eyes narrow. “I’m sorry.”

Ryan ignores you and grabs his phone, scrolling loudly through videos. You used his distraction to grab your phone, checking through the various notifications you’d gotten throughout the day while your phone was with him.

Just as you began to message you mom, apologising for missing her call, you saw a text pop up on the top of your screen.

*Hey. Heard from Ryan that you want the interview. So great to hear. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow to arrange a time. Really hope to have you on the team. Spencer.*

You fought down a smile and shoved your phone in your pocket and began plating up the dinner, trying to ignore the music blasting from Ryan’s phone.

---

Your interview, after a short call with Spencer, was the following Tuesday.

You and Ryan rode in together, even though your interview wasn’t until midday, because you only had one car and he didn’t like the idea of you taking the bus by yourself. (You’d taken it to drop off the headphones to him that first day, and he hadn’t been pleased.)

You sat in on a few shoots, giggling in the background at the chaos that was Flip 7. Ryan was a different person in front of the camera, making jokes and riffing with Trevor in between rounds. You smiled wistfully, remembering the first year of dating when he was always like this. You wondered where that changed.

It was towards the end of Bit City shoot, Angela riffing with assorted characters when you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to see the smiling face of Spencer Agnew. “Hey.” You whispered.

“Hey. You ready?” He asked, eyes twinkling. You nodded and quickly got out of your chair as Spencer led you out of the studio, quietly so as not to disturb the filming. The crew start laughing at something just as you turn the corner. “You nervous?” Spencer asks teasingly.

“A little.” You admit. “I haven’t worked in almost two years. Haven’t had a job interview in longer.” You tuck your hair behind your ear bashfully.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’m sure you’re more than qualified. As I said, this is just a formality.”

“That doesn’t help.” You say, a nervous giggle slipping past your lips. “Means there’s more to cock up.”

Spencer chuckles and turns to you, stopping outside the conference door. “I highly doubt that. But Ian and Anthony are great, and I’ll be in there, so there’s at least one friendly face.” He comforts and you nod, actually feeling a little tension leave your shoulders as he swings the door open.

Two men, who you knew to be Ian and Anthony from the various videos you’d watched, looked up. They both levelled you with a friendly smile, and gestured to the seat opposite them at the oval conference table. You gave them a nervous wave and slid into the seat. Spencer slipped into the chair at the head of the oval, in between both of you.

You placed your purple folder in front of you, and your hands returned to your lap, fingers fidgeting with a loose string in the hem of your t-shirt.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Anthony.”

“Ian.” They both greet, friendly smiles on their faces. You nod nervously, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hello.”

“So, I’m sure Spencer explained but we were informed that you had some experience in producing. Why don’t you tell us about that?” Ian begins.

You nod and smile as you jump into the explanation of studying film and media at university, as well as drama and how you worked your way up from Production Assistant, to cameraman and eventually to producer. You smile as you talk about how much you love the chaos of it and Spencer’s smile widens.

“Now, Y/N, if you don’t mind me asking,” Anthony begins, reading through your CV, Ian glancing through various papers, your purple folder open between them. “Why haven’t you applied for a directors position yet? You’re more than qualified.”

You breathe deeply as Anthony hands the CV over to Spencer, who begins to study it. “Um, well, I guess I might’ve been ready now if I’d continued working, but me and Ryan made a decision that it was best for me to stay home due to certain circumstances so now that I’m ready to get back to work, I want to pick up where I left off. To be honest, I’ve lost a little confidence in the work I could potentially produce as a Director due to this hiatus, and I don’t really feel ready to jump into that role because I see it as beyond my current capabilities. I need something comfortable, and something I know that with a short amount of time, I can exceed expectations.”

All three of them are nodding by the end of it, and with a quick glance at Spencer, who winks, you feel a small smile creep up your face.

The interview commences shortly after that, and you leave feeling a lot better than before. Anthony asks to keep a copy of your CV and Spencer nods at you, like a silent confirmation. You and he leave the conference room together, after a strong handshake from both company presidents, and he gives you a quick side hug in preemptive celebration.

“Now, I can’t read their minds, but I’ve never been more sure that you’re gonna get this job.” He grins and you snort, pushing him off.

“Stop. I can’t get my hopes up.”

“It’s not hope. Believe it or not, as Director of Smosh Games, I have *some* control over who gets hired.” He says sarcastically. “And I’m telling you, you’ve got the job.”

Your eyes well up slightly, but you shake your head. “I won’t believe it until I get an official offer from them.” You respond, nodding back to the conference room where you could still see Ian and Anthony’s heads, bent forward in conversation.

Spencer nods with a smirk. “Okay. You staying or heading home?”

“Oh, um, staying. We’ve only got one car and Ryan doesn’t like me taking the bus by myself.” Spencer’s head tilts and you continue, “LA has some weirdos.” Spencer nods halfheartedly and walks you to the kitchen, which seemed a little busier than earlier. “Lunch is in ten. Mexican okay with you?”

“Yeah, great.” You confirm nodding, just as Ryan walks into the kitchen. His eyes immediately land on the two of you and you step further away from Spencer just in case. There was a respectable distance between you anyway but…Ryan was overprotective. “Hey, Ry! Thought lunch wasn’t for ten minutes.” You laugh as the man comes to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, which tensed from the strength.

“Yeah, it is. Finished early.” He responded, nodding to Shayne and Amanda, who walked past the kitchen in conversation.

“Smosh Mouth?” Spencer asked and Ryan nodded sharply, levelling the man with a sharp stare. You shrunk underneath his arm, even though it wasn’t aimed at you.

Spencer’s eyes flickered between the two of you before stepping back. “Um. I gotta go to the toilet. I’ll see you around, Ryan. Y/N, expect a phone call from Ian soon.” He says, and you nod hopefully before he’s gone.

You and Ryan stand in silence for a few seconds before his hand drops from your shoulder, and he nudges past you a bit too harshly to get to the coffee pot. “I take it the interview went well?”

“Uh, yeah. Very, I think. I might get the job.” You responded, watching nervously as he white-knuckled the coffee cup.

Ryan hummed and walked to the fridge for some milk. “Well, I suppose you’ll have to let them down then, yeah?”

You practically heard a record scratch in your brain. “Um…why?”

Ryan snorted and poured the milk in his coffee, not looking up and speaking as though it was obvious. “I said I’d let you interview. I never said I’d let you take the job.”

A few seconds go by as you stare at him, your voice wavering as you responded. “Ryan, I want this job.”

“Well, that’s too bad.” He snarked, practically throwing the milk back in the fridge door.

You spluttered and he chuckled, his coffee cup clinking as he stared the teaspoon purposefully slow. You pushed forward ignoring his childishness. “I’m taking the job.”

The clinking stopped as his shoulders stiffened. His back straightened, and his voice was low as he whispered, “This wouldn’t be because of *Spencer*, would it?” He spat the name like venom, and your eyebrows creased together in confusion.

“Why would it be because of Spencer? What are you talking about?”

Ryan turned slowly to you, stepping closer menacingly. You backed up as far as you could go, your butt hitting the countertop, but Ryan didn’t stop until he was towering over you. When you first started dating, you loved how tall he was but you’d grown to hate how he used it against you.

“If I find out you want this job to get into another man’s pants—“

“Ry—“

“*Do not interrupt me*.” He spits and though his voice is no louder than a whisper, it feels like a scream to your ears, the words echoing through your skull, hitting every square inch of your brain. You felt your hands start to shake and your eyes sting with unshed tears when a throat clears in the doorway.

Courtney, Angela and Amanda were stood in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of them in what could only be described as shock. Angela’s mouth was agape, Courtney’s eyebrows were raised as high as they could go and Amanda eyes were filled with fury.

“Everything okay?” Courtney asked, voice shocked and angry, her eyes gentle as they landed on yours.

Ryan cleared his throat and backed off, laughing awkwardly as he picks up his cup taking a long sip. “Yeah. Just, uh…talking.” He levels you with a look, and you sink back into the cabinets behind you as he roughly pushes past the three girls.

Once he’d disappeared, they approached you, Amanda still staring after Ryan in shock.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Courtney asks urgently, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

You nod tearfully, sniffing and straightening quickly. “Oh, fine.” You laugh sharply, attempting to divert attention but they only look to grow more concerned.

“What the hell was that?” Angela asks urgently.

“Oh, um, my interview went really well. He’s really overprotective and didn’t love the idea of me and Spencer having to work so closely.” You laughed lightly, attempting to brush it off.

“Overprotective? What’s he got to be overprotective for? It’s Spencer, he’s harmless.” Courtney said, aghast.

“It’s controlling is what it is.” Amanda mutters, eyes glaring daggers at the back of Ryan’s head through the window. Ryan was sat at a table with Trevor and Shayne, whom had no idea what had transpired, laughing uproariously at something or other.

“No it’s not. Don’t be ridiculous.” You laughed, walking to the fridge to grab a La Croix.

“Y/N—“ Angela tried but you interrupted.

“He loves me.” You insist and feel certain in the fact. But even still, their worried faces stare back at you.

————————————————————————

a/n: i already have part three written but im trying to pace the releases a little bit so it should be out in two days. thanks so much for the support 💕

Tim sighed behind the wheel of his truck, shooting you a look when you happily unbuckled your belt. You slid out the door, eagerly waiting by the truck bed for him. He grumbled quietly, grabbing his backpack and barely looking both ways across the lot before he was walking.

You skipped to catch up with him, grinning ear to ear while he reluctantly held open the door of the station for you.

“You can sit at my desk while I change. When I get back, I’ll show you to Nolan, you can finish your report and then you can take my truck back home. Got it?”

“Actually, I was hoping I could do a little ride along today.” He faltered his steps, nearly tripping if not for you catching his arm. 

“Over my dead body,” he said, holding up a finger to your face. “Y/N, I’m serious.”

“I’m only teasing,” you said, sliding your hand down to interlace with his. He seemed oddly tense as he walked you into the station and past a set of stairs. He meandered past a few desks before stopping at a plain looking one. 

“I’ll be back in a few,” he said, waiting for you to sit in the leather office chair. He rubbed his temple as he turned away, heading out of earshot and down some hallway. You spun around, examining his desk, pouting when you only saw two photos up. One of his sister and nephews, the other looking like it was some cops.

“Dating for nearly seven months and I don’t get a picture,” you grumbled, picking up a perfectly aligned notebook and pen set. How was this the same guy that hadn’t owned a single matching glass until you went and bought him some at Target last month?

“Good morning.” You spun in the chair at the voice behind you, two women appearing. One wore a blue uniform like Tim did, the other in jeans and a blazer. The one in the uniform smiled, giving the other one a mischievous smirk. “You wouldn’t happen to be the B&E at Sunset Ridge last night? The one dating Tim?”

“Oh yeah, that’s her,” said Officer Nolan as he walked past them to a desk behind Tim’s. “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” you said. “A bit shaken up still.”

“Understandable,” said the woman in the blazer. “Nolan, we’ll be back.”

“We?” you asked, both woman pulling you to your feet.

“You like coffee? Let’s grab a coffee before you finish with John,” said the uniformed woman. You glanced back at Nolan, a sympathetic look on his face.

“Ten minutes ladies,” he called, the two leading you outside. 

“Uh, who are you guys?” you asked as they pointed over to a coffee cart on the far side of the entrance of the station.

“Lucy Chen. Angela Lopez,” said Angela, a mischievous look on her face. “And apparently you’re Tim’s girlfriend? For how long?”

“Six months,” you said quietly. They both stopped and stared at you, quickly shaking their heads. 

“He’s an-“

“Idiot, exactly,” they said to each other, giving you a smile. “We heard he flipped his shit last night on you.”

“That moron,” said Angela, walking again. “Come on, Y/N. We got some things to discuss.”

“You guys aren’t going to give me some sort of if you hurt him speech…” you trailed off when Angela barked a laugh.

“No, no, no, no. We’re going to plot revenge for him being a dick,” said Lucy. You smirked, Lucy’s eyes lighting up. “Oh, we’re going to like you.”

Tim POV

I narrowed my eyes as I walked back to my desk to find it missing Y/N. Nolan wasn’t at his either. Maybe he took her back to an interview room? I spun around, nearly slamming straight into him and his cup of coffee. 

“Sorry,” he winced, managing to avoid spilling the hot liquid all over the two of us. 

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked, Nolan raising an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know. Lopez and Chen took her outside to get a coffee-” I walked towards the front door, pausing when Angela and Lucy appeared with to go cups in their hands.

“Where’s Y/N?” I asked again, the girls looking at one another.

“We sent her back inside awhile ago.” I looked around, frowning. “Maybe she went to the bathroom?”

“Can one of you check the public ones? Please?” Lopez hummed and went across the lobby, Lucy giving me a look. “What?”

“You look worried. It’s a police station. I’m sure she’s fine,” she said. I kept scanning around the bullpen, Y/N still missing.

“She’s not in there,” said Angela a moment later when she rejoined us. I walked away, the two of them hurrying after. “Timothy.”

“Why did you leave her alone? This place is full of violent criminals,” I said, storming down a back hall. 

“Calm down, we’ll help you look,” said Lucy. Ten minutes later my hair was a mess from how many times I’d ran a hand through it. Y/N was fucking missing. What the hell had happened? Did she cross paths with the guy that broke in last night? Did he make bail and grabbed her? Why wouldn’t she have made a sound, alerted someone?

I dialed her phone, hearing nothing around me as I walked the halls. I sent off text after text, call after call, my blood pressure sky high by the time I regrouped with the girls and Nolan in the lobby. 

“Tell Gray to lock it down,” I said, going to my desk, looking up the guy who broke into her house yesterday. Someone whistled nearby, my head snapping up. They did it again, an officer turning around in a nearby chair. 

My stomach dropped when they gave me a friendly wave, Y/N wearing a hat and one of our rain jackets. “What the…”

“Hm. Eighteen phone calls,” she chided, shaking her head, the color draining from my face. “Thirty…seven texts.” 

Y/N stood up as I felt others nearby, my butt plopping down in my chair as Y/N approached. She held out her phone to me, tsking me. “But Tim? I thought we agreed you call the authorities in an emergency first, not me.”

I closed my eyes. Fuck I deserved that. I deserved that so bad. My skin was hot with embarrassment, a few laughs heard behind me. I heard it quiet though, a gentle hand touching mine.

Y/N POV

“Are you mad at me?” you asked him. He opened his eyes, shaking his head. “It was your friends idea for hiding me for so long…and the yelling thing.”

“They know when I need a kick in the ass,” he said, the pink rushing out of his skin. “I know I apologized for yelling but I’m sorry for embarrassing you too. You are a civilian and-”

“And you got scared and had all this extra emotion that you didn’t know how to deal with. I already forgave you last night.”

“Here,” he said, grabbing a notebook and pen, writing down some names and numbers, tearing it off to you. “These are my friends numbers, personal too. And that number at the top is for family to call the department for any reason. From now on we’ll just trust each other to make the right call for ourselves in emergencies, okay?”

“You’re so hot when you’re emotionally mature,” you said, putting a smile back on his face. 

“And I kind of like that you’re a little bit evil to go along with publicly shaming me.” You scoffed, putting a hand to your chest. “You have to admit you’re a little twisted.”

“Got to keep you on your toes,” you said, leaning closer, stopping yourself. He raised an eyebrow. “Am I allowed to kiss you at work?”

“You just tortured me the past fifteen minutes with my co-workers and then ask if you’re allowed to kiss me?” You pretended to pout, pecking a kiss to his lips. “Did you finish your statement?”

“Not yet,” you said, spotting Officer Nolan return to his desk. 

“Go on. I need to go see where the hell my boot is.” 

Ten minutes later your statement was done. The guy, or rather very tall idiot teenager, that’d broken in admitted he was behind the robbery and a few others in your neighborhood. You met with a guy that worked for the DA’s office, Angela’s husband you were pretty sure. After talking with him, you decided not to press charges in exchange for a whole lot of community service and him joining an outreach program for a minimum of six months.

“All set?” Tim asked you when you found him in the lobby near a garage door entrance. 

“Should be,” you said, noticing a man with more stripes on his shoulder than Tim standing nearby. 

“Who’s your friend, Bradford?” he asked. Tim quietly growled but whoever this was had more authority than him and he bit his tongue.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, this is my boss-”

“Ah, you’re Gray,” you said, holding out a hand, the man happily shaking it. “I’ve heard mostly good things.”

“That’s acceptable,” he said, shooting Tim a smirk. “Is there a problem?”

“Not anymore,” said Tim, fishing his keys out of his pocket. “Pick me up at six? The alarm system is getting delivered later. We’ll install it this weekend.”

“Sounds good,” you said, pecking a kiss on his cheek. A young man near the garage grinned, Tim immediately barking at him, pointing a finger. “That’s his boot?”

“Yup,” said Gray.

“Is that…normal?”

“His style is…rougher but he makes good officers. I have to get back to it but it was nice meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” 

“Will do,” you said, heading back towards the lobby. You slowed your steps though, glancing back as Gray entered an office. You followed him inside, Gray turning to face you. “Is it a big no no if I wanted to do a ride along?”

“...No. We do them for a number of reasons. Why are you asking me and not…” You made a face, Gray nodding. “Bradford doesn’t want you doing one.”

“He’s a little…over protective, to use a word. I feel like it might…help me understand him more…and with my screenplay,” you mumbled.

“Screenplay?” he asked.

“I’m writing a movie. I’ve stuck to trad paperbacks but this will be my first…sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” you said, turning about to leave.

“Name a character after me and I’ll get you your ride along. But not with Bradford. I need his focus to be on his boot.”

“Not a problem. I was thinking Idris Elba for who plays you?” He gave you a look like you were a kiss ass. “Denzel?”

“Officers Nolan and Juarez will give you a call tomorrow to discuss your ride along later in the week,” he said, nodding towards the day. “Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Tim POV

“So, how was your day dear?” Y/N asked, setting a bowl down in front of me at her kitchen table. I hummed, giving her a look when she trailed her finger up my arm.

“Can I eat my dinner before we get horny?” I teased, Y/N shrugging.

“I’m not the one that walks around without a shirt after his shower every night.”

“I would be perfectly okay with you also being topless you know.” I grinned as she sat down next to me, shooting me a look that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. “Thanks for cooking.”

“It was my turn,” she said, picking up a fork and digging into her pasta. “I put extra chicken in yours.”

“Thank you,” I said as she shoved a piece of garlic bread in her mouth. We ate a few bites, Y/N sipping on a glass of white wine while I drank a beer. “Work was pretty boring, caught up on paperwork a lot.”

“No hunting serial killers today? Dismantle a drug cartel?” she asked, smirking at me. I rolled my eyes, slurping up more pasta. “Save a kitten from a tree?”

“I watched two grown woman argue over a fender bender for an hour while we waited for a tow truck for some insane reason. A four year old accidentally called 911 and his dad about shit a brick when I did a safety check. Oh, my highlight was when my boot got thrown up on by a drunk guy in the middle of the day. Really good stuff.”

“I like your boring days,” she said, softly smiling. I returned it. Boring meant safe in her mind and if that made her happy then I’d be happy too to be bored.

“How about you?” I asked.

“Wrote some, had a meeting with my agent about the deadline for the next book. Oh and I had lunch with those producers that are interested in buying my script when it’s done.” 

“You were productive,” I said. She put a hand on my forearm, sliding it up to rub my bicep. Fuck, she was in the mood tonight. I wasn’t about to complain about-

“And I talked to Gray and I’ll be going on a ride along with Nolan and Juarez on Friday. I’ll get so much research for the script. Isn’t that exciting?” she said, grinning wide. I tensed for a split second. My gut screamed no, it was too dangerous. But I didn’t want another fight…and I could threaten Nolan and Juarez into taking only easy calls…

“S’great,” I said, shoving more food in my mouth.

“Lying straight through your teeth I see.” She still smirked, looking through her eyelashes. “I can’t wait for Friday!”

“Yeah. Can’t wait for it,” I grumbled, wondering why the hell I had to fall for such a stubborn woman. “Can’t fucking wait.”

Your eyes were closed, music quietly playing through your bluetooth speaker, warm bubbly water surrounding you. It was Friday night and while you would have loved to have been spending it curled up in your boyfriend’s lap while he tried and failed once again to get you interested in the baseball you’d have been inevitably watching…a self-care night was in full swing while he worked a double.

*NYSNC came over the speakers as you sunk lower into the water, smirking as you wondered what you’d have to do to get Tim to take a bubble bath. Probably a back massage or the promise of-

Something crashed outside the shut door, your eyebrow raising. You turned off the speaker, listening intently, a quiet creak of the floorboards at the end of the hallway. Your heart skipped a beat. 

Someone was in the house. No, someone had broken into your house. While you were very naked in a tub with no way to defend yourself.

Don’t freeze up.

Some voice in your head had you moving without thinking. You stepped onto the towel on the floor, not caring about the water you splashed everywhere. You tugged the robe on the back of the door on, quietly locking the door. The floor creaked again, farther away this time, your pulse sharp, painful. You looked around, flipping off the window. Sure, you maybe could have crammed your body through but you really didn’t feel like cutting yourself up before falling fifteen feet to your driveway below.

You snatched your phone and wide paddle hairbrush off the counter, pressing your back against the door. Maybe it wouldn’t do much but at least you’d get one good crack in if somebody came inside.

With wet, shaky fingers you hit the number you’d last dialed and held it to your ear. It rang and rang and rang and rang before going to voicemail.

“Tim Bradford. Leave a message.” You re-dialed, heart hammering as another crash, this time glass, echoed throughout the house. You turned off the bathroom light, gripping the phone tight. “Tim Bradford. Leave a message.”

“Pick up the damn phone,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes tight when it went to voicemail a third time. Something broke outside and you cancelled the next call, instead hitting 911 and hoping the cops got there before whoever the hell was in your house found you.

Tim POV

“You’re welcome, ma’am.” I gave her a nod before jogging down her front steps and back towards the shop. A gust of cold wind whipped across the yard, unusual for this time of year. I’d have to throw on my jacket tonight.

“...code 3 at 4192 Sunset Ridge,” crackled over the radio on my hip. I froze for only a moment, ripping my radio off my belt as I ran to the shop and slid behind the wheel.

“7 Adam 15, can you repeat that…” I trailed off as I saw my phone on the dash, four missed calls from Y/N appearing.

“There’s a code 3 at 4192 Sunset Ridge. Home owner reported a B&E. Suspect is inside. Home owner is unable to leave the-”

“Fuck,” I said, hitting the gas, dialing with one hand. “Y/N, pick up the damn phone.”

“Hi. You’ve reached Y/N. Please leave your name and-”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I slammed the gas, blowing through an intersection. “Be okay, please be okay.”

Reader POV

“I’m not in trouble am I?” you asked after giving your statement seven minutes later, the officer taking your statement giving you a reassuring smile. 

“Oh no. You acted in self-defense,” he said, screeching tires outside on the street making you both turn your heads towards the open front door. “Stay there a second.”

He stepped outside, allowing you to follow. You peaked your head around him when you heard some sort of commotion. You stepped on the front stoop beside the officer, the man mid run across your front lawn coming up short, staring at you.

“Sergeant? What-” The officer was ignored as Tim walked quickly over and up the steps, breathing hard. 

“Are you okay?” he asked loudly and a little harsh. You glanced at the officer and nodded. Tim pinched the bridge of his nose, one hand on his hip. “If someone breaks in your damn house, you call 911. Immediately. Not me. 911. Children know that for fucks sake.”

“Well fuck you,” you shot back, flipping him off, turning to the officer. “I want this asshole off my damn property.”

“You’re mad at me?” Tim scoffed, the officer trying to back away but you grabbed his arm. 

“I want this insensitive ass gone. Now,” you growled. Tim shot the officer a look, the man shrugging you off.

“Just a wild guess but are you and Sergeant Bradford by chance dating?” he asked calmly. 

“Nolan, leave before I demote you.” The officer scurried away, leaving the two of you glaring at one another. “Why are you mad at me?”

“Why are you yelling at me for calling my cop boyfriend who does patrol in my neighborhood? It was less than a minute before I called 911. Forgive me for not being one of your trained boots and instead hoping my boyfriend would, oh I don’t know, make me feel better when I’m scared shitless right now.”

You stormed inside, going to the kitchen and getting a beer from the fridge.

A gentle hand grasped your wrist, setting the bottle down on the counter. You frowned and turned your head, Tim pulling you into his chest. “Bradford-“

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“You already asked me that.”

“Y/N,” he sighed. You shrugged, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I smacked a guy with my hairbrush and broke his nose…and then I kicked him in the balls and might have bruised his dick…and I don’t feel safe here.”

“That is…impressive and you are staying at my place tonight with me.”

You were about to argue that being alone at his place wasn’t any better but it finally registered what he said. You leaned back and stared up at him. “But you’re working.”

“Just trust me.”

Forty minutes later you were on Tim’s couch in one of his shirts and a pair of pajama shorts. He was talking on the phone before it went quiet and you were greeted to him walking out of the hall in a pair of sweatpants and nothing more. He slipped a smile on his face and took a seat on the couch beside you. 

“Are you in trouble because you left work early?” you mumbled, flicking your finger over a thread that was coming loose on one of his decorative pillows. He sighed, your head turning away when you felt strong arms wrap around your middle and pull you into his side. “Heaven forbid the great Tim Bradford get a mark on his perfect record. I’m fine. Just go back to work.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine but I’m not.” You scrunched up your face but didn’t turn to look back at him. A finger grazed over your cheek, his forehead resting against the back of yours, warm breath fanning over your hair. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. I am. But you know I’m…working on my communication skills. I panicked and that’s not something I can do in my job, even when I’m terrified, I have to keep that in check.”

“So what does that mean? You need a smarter girlfriend who calls 911 first?” you said, closing your eyes when he tensed. “Sorry, that was bitchy.”

“All I’m saying is I’m not in the right headspace to go back to work and be safe and you always tell me be safe at work so I’m just doing as told.” You closed your eyes as he kept both arms around you, sliding you into his lap and against his chest. “I’m not picking a fight. I just want to know why you called me first?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I thought you could get there faster since you were working or you could tell me what to do but I mean, it was like thirty seconds at most before I stopped trying you. You made me feel like a moron in front of people you work with. People who apparently don’t even know who I am after dating for six months.”

“Can you forgive me?” You rested your head on his shoulder, turning into it. He tucked your head under his chin, his skin warm and flush from his shower.

“Yeah. Don’t treat me like that again and I won’t call you in emergencies.” 

“Uh, that is not what I want. You absolutely call me, just call the authorities first.” You threw your head back, looking up at him with a frown. His smile was more teasing now, eyes gentler. “Got all that?”

“You’re annoying,” you grumbled, unwrapping your arms from yourself, giving his body a good squeeze. “But I forgive you.”

“Great. Tomorrow we’ll sign you up for a self-defense class.” You spun out of his hold, Tim holding up his hands as you glared. “I’m joking.”

“Are you? Because I already broke one man’s dick tonight,” you said. He glanced down to where your hand was resting on his stomach, the gears turning in his head. 

“Yeah, but you like my dick. You wouldn’t-” He chocked on his words when you slid your hand down over him. He coughed, swallowing once. “No class, unless you ever wanted to, but that’s totally your call. Honey.”

“Smart boy,” you said, patting his dick lightly and settling back in. He was quiet as he turned on his baseball game and tugged a blanket off the back of the couch over the two of you. You half-watched the game, your mind drifting back to the break-in every few moments. 

“How many square feet is your house again?” he asked out of the blue. You rattled off a number, Tim humming. 

“Why?” 

“Because you can threaten my dick all you want but I am installing a security system for you tomorrow.” You spotted him typing on his phone, adding two more motion sensors to the cart for whatever system he was on. You smiled, sitting up and interrupting his order to cup his cheeks and kiss him. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For a second I thought you were going to ask me to move in with you.”

“Eventually,” he countered, tucking the blanket around you further. “But I don’t want to stick a band-aid on this either. Anyone capable of breaking a dick should be confident enough to sleep alone…with a brand new alarm system.”

“But still with frequent sleepovers.”

“Well, that’s just a given.” You sunk back down, starting to finally relax as head rested against yours. “You can sleep. I’ll be right here.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“This will all sound cheesy, but I figure that if you’re reading this then you should already be prepared. This is the story of my family. Of our love, our losses, our sacrifices. Of how we fought to stay together, fought to survive. This is the story of Y/N Stark and the Avengers. This is my story.”

PROLOGUE 1 / PROLOGUE 2

AVENGERS AGE OF ULTRON

ONE / TWO / THREE / FOUR / FIVE / SIX / SEVEN / EIGHT / NINE / TEN / ELEVEN

BOUND TO BE BROKEN

TWELVE / THIRTEEN / FOURTEEN / FIFTEEN / SIXTEEN / SEVENTEEN / EIGHTEEN / NINETEEN / TWENTY / MORE TO COME...

CAPTAIN AMERICA CIVIL WAR

CHAPTERS COMING SOON

SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING

CHAPTERS COMING SOON

AVENGERS INFINITY WAR

CHAPTERS COMING SOON

CAPTAIN MARVEL

CHAPTERS COMING SOON

AVENGERS ENDGAME

CHAPTERS COMING SOON

CHOOSE AN ENDING

oh my god, fluffy sex with vessel??? yes please holy shit??

this man is intimidating as fuck, but goddamn can he be an absolute sweetheart in the sheets

whenever he’s in the mood for something more vanilla, he’s a lot more quiet

short breaths and gasps, letting out long, deep sighs when he cums, whispering your name like a sacred prayer whenever he’s close to climaxing

goddamn this man sounds heavenly when he’s making you feel good

vessel’s voice is also a lot more soothing, with a twinge of poetic flair to his words whenever he’s praising you

always being so gentle with you <33 we love to see it

he always puts your pleasure first too. drilling his cock into you in such a sensual manner that has you seeing stars

and you can still feel the intimacy and affection from him, it’s such a surreal experience

“that’s it, baby. you’re taking me so well…”

you could only softly whine as you felt vessel’s hard shaft move deep inside of you. his movements were slow and sensual, but his rhythm had you on edge, and writhing underneath his grasp, begging for more.

“there… i got you.. fuck you look so good like this, taking my cock like the good little bunny you are.” he hissed out in pure euphoria, his hips pistoning inside of your hole in a way that had you seeing stars.

your wrists were being held tightly to the mattress by vessel, and you could only squirm in a lustrous need as he moved inside you. “vess… vess please..”

“shhh, it’s okay… i’m right here..” vessel whispered in a reassuring manner, dipping his head between the space in your neck to affectionately nip at your soft skin, leaving love marks as he trailed down.

his hands moved from your wrists to your hands, his fingers interlocking with yours, squeezing your hands with a loving grasp.

that simple action was enough to make you whimper in pure ecstasy, it was almost enough to distract you from how his dick was buried deep within your love canal.

vessel lived for this kind of pleasure.

this was the kind of love he loved to give to you.

he wouldn’t be this affectionate and attentive to anyone else but you. if it were anyone else, he couldn’t give less of a damn… but you… oh you were just a different story.

your presence was just so captivating, entrancing vessel in a dreamlike state every time he made love to you. you were his drug, so sweet and addicting.

and he was going to show that to you no matter what.

“shit, baby. you’re so tight around me… fuck.. i love it so much..” he moaned softly into your neck, his hips moving slightly faster. “i love you so much.”

his sweet words had you moaning like crazy. you couldn’t help it, the way he spoke to you like you were some kind of ancient deity was enough to get your legs shaking.

“f-fuck… vessel.. please..”

“please what, honey? tell me… tell me what you want.”

looking through the slits of vessel’s artistic mask, you could see nothing but pure love and lust clouding his eyes, and that just made the arousal in your core grow stronger.

“please.. harder..” you begged breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper.

vessel cursed silently at your words, and his hips rolled into you slowly, hitting a spot that had your legs spasming.

he smiled softly, and bent down to capture your lips in a loving kiss, before whispering. “of course, darling.”