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fandom-smut-shots · 5 years

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Lance McClain - Selfie

Selfie – Lance McClain

SuicidalConnorMurphy

A/N: Male!reader. High school AU.

Words: 2,357

Lance McClain was the Selfie King. If he were to be published in the Garrison High yearbook, his trademark would be “Took the Most Selfies.” Nobody particularly minded it, though. They teased the Cuban on more than one occasion, but the taunts never had any heat to them. Lance had a rather impressive Instagram following, considering his feed consisted of selfie after selfie after selfie, sprinkled with a few photos of his favorite beverages from the local coffee shop.

As his best friend, you were a frequent occurrence in his postings. “Hanging with the best boyo!” was a common caption on Lance’s photos, followed by your username and an onslaught of hashtags. You desperately wanted to be more than the official Best Friend, but you supposed that was better than being a background character.

One of the reasons that Kaltenecker’s Café was Lance’s favorite caffeine destination was because you were a barista there on the weekends. You usually worked the morning shift, leaving your afternoons open for hanging out and catching up on any homework you didn’t finish during the week.

Every Saturday and Sunday, at ten in the morning, like clockwork, Lance was there, chatting up your coworkers while you prepared his drink of choice. In the spring, it was an iced Americano with cream and vanilla syrup. Summer was a cinnamon chai milkshake. Autumn was a pumpkin spice latte. Winter was a hot chai latte, dirty if he was studying.

It was ten a.m. on Saturday, and you had just clocked in for your shift. Your hands wound around your back, securing your apron as you padded out to the front counter. The café was quiet, so you set about prepping your station and brewing yourself a beverage to keep your energy up. The owner was a sweetheart, and one of the first things he’d told you during training was that you were welcome to help yourself to any drink in the café provided that you prepared it yourself, kept it out of customer view, and didn’t let it go to waste.

The bell above the door chimed, altering you to a new customer.

“Good morning. Welcome to Kaltenecker’s,” you called without looking up from the counter. Tanned skin appeared in your peripheral vision, drawing your gaze upwards. A smile settled on your lips as Lance leaned against the counter, signature smirk on his lips, one hand raised and poised into a finger gun.

“Good morning, handsome,” he grinned. Fondness fluttered in your stomach, only to be crushed by the reality that you were just his friend. Though the entire campus knew that Lance was a proud bisexual, you couldn’t help but doubt that you would be even close to his type. He flirted with everyone, it seemed. Everyone except for you.

“Hey, Lance,” you greeted, already punching his order into the register. “Your usual?”

“You know it,” he beamed. “Extra shot, please? Finals are coming up.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned. Once the brunet paid for his drink, tipping as usual, you set about concocting it.

“Study buddies?” Lance inquired with a wiggle of his thin cinnamon brows. The two of you always prepped for midterms and finals together, though your benefits fell short. You always got distracted by his midnight blue eyes and sun-kissed skin, leading you conveniently forget every single chapter you quizzed each other on.

“Of course,” you agreed without missing a beat. Failing finals was worth quality time with the boy you’d never admit your gay attraction to.

“Awesome!” He shot you a toothy grin, and the butterflies that had been dancing in your abdomen exploded into homosexual confetti. You slid his drink across the counter with practiced ease, watching as he reached for it before you even fully released the cup. Your fingers brushed against his, and it felt like a thousand volts shot through your skin. You struggled to stifle a shiver, trying to keep your gay heart under control.

Lance turned his back to you, holding his drink in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He tapped the screen to activate his camera before hoisting the device into the air, effectively capturing the both of you in the screen’s dimensions.

“Say cheese!” the brunet declared, hardly giving you a chance to smile before he tapped the center button to snap the photo. Satisfied, he shoved his phone into his pocket and took a large swig of his beverage

He moaned loudly in approval, and the noise traveled straight to your lower regions.

“You’re the best, (y/n),” he stated. “My place after work?”

You nodded. “I’ll be here. Need me to bring my books?”

He offered you a sheepish chuckle, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Heh, yeah. I may have left mine in my locker today.”

You rolled your eyes, a fond smile on your lips. Lance McClain was the epitome of unprepared.

“See you later,” he said with a wink, shooting you one final finger gun gesture before spinning on his heel and sauntering out of the café. You chewed your lip, staring after him like a lost puppy.

When you took your first break, you withdrew your phone from your pocket to peek at your notifications. It came as no surprise that Instagram was at the top of the list, alerting you that Lance had tagged you in a post. You unlocked your phone and tapped on the note, dropping your weight onto one of the metal folding chairs in the break room. Leaning back against it, your gaze was met with the photo Lance had taken earlier, displaying himself, his drink, and you in the background. Scrolling down, you allowed yourself to read the caption.

Got to see this cutie again! Look how cute u are @username! Cant wait for our study sesh later!

#caffeine #kalteneckers #bestbud #isnthecute? #shoulditellhim? #maybenexttime

A blush dusted your cheeks at the compliment, and you reminded yourself that this wasn’t the first time Lance had posted flirty captions in your honor. What caught your attention, though, was the hashtags. What did “should I tell him?” mean? What did Lance want to tell you? Why wasn’t he telling it?

Ten minutes rushed by as you pondered the brunet’s words, and with a sigh, you stuffed your phone back into your pocket, returning to the world of coffee beans and soy milk.

Nearly a week later, finals had come to an end, and the student body breathed a collective sigh of relief. Lance had passed with flying colors, thanks to your tutoring, and you were grateful that his flirting hadn’t impacted your focus.

You met up with Lance after his last test of the day, and his first instinct was to wrap you in a hug and lift you from the ground.

“You’re the best!” he shrieked, squeezing his arms around you. You only hoped he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was drumming.

“How did you do?” you inquired once your feet regained contact with the floor.

“I passed!” he beamed, taking your hands in his. “I passed everything!”

You grinned, hoping he couldn’t feel how sweaty your palms were. “That’s amazing, Lance! I told you you were smart!”

“Come on,” the brunet said as he draped an arm across your shoulders. “I’m taking you out for dinner to celebrate and to thank you.”

“Oh, Lance, you don’t have to-“

“Don’t even think about getting out of it,” he grinned. “I owe you. Without your help, I would have had to repeat the year!”

You chuckled softly. “Well, I can’t have my best friend falling behind, now can I?”

He led you outside to his cobalt blue Camaro, climbing into the driver’s seat while you slid into the other side. “Despacito” blared through the speakers as he drove to a nearby diner, one that the two of you were quite fond of.

Your eyes danced across the sign that read Vrepit Sal’s Diner, and your heart warmed at the familiarity. Every year, the two of you would come to the diner to celebrate after passing midterms and finals. Lance led you inside, keeping his arm around you. The owner, Sal, waved as you entered, calling for you to sit anywhere you preferred. You followed the lean brunet to his favorite booth by the window, sliding in across from him.

Sal approached with your favorite drinks, already knowing what the two of you would order. You had spent so many lunches at the diner, it was a wonder why neither of you worked there.

As Sal shuffled away to prepare your food, Lance rose from his seat. You watched him with curious eyes as he gestured for you to slide further into your side of the booth. You complied, watching as he slid down beside you.

“Selfie time!” he declared, and you laughed. You really should have seen it coming. You plastered on the calmest smile you could as Lance opened his camera, holding it at arm’s length in front of you. You rested your head on his shoulder, and with a grin, he placed his head on yours, winking at the lens. The picture snapped, and a moment later, Lance returned to his side of the booth, leaving you feeling a draft.

His thumbs typed furiously at his phone, no doubt uploading the photo to Instagram. You sipped at your drink while you waited, knowing you would be tagged in the post and alerted when it was viewable.

Your phone dinged, and you picked it up to check the notification. Sure enough, Instagram had informed you of a tag from Lance, and you clicked it open. On your screen sat the photo of you, edited via a bright filter, and you scrolled down to read the caption.

Look at him!!! Isnt he adorable??? Lunch at vrepit sals!

#lunch #yummy #vrepitsals #bestbud #cutiepie #imacoward

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the tags, and you glanced up to question Lance about them. Sal returned with two plates of food, setting one in front of each of you. Aloud, you thanked him, but in your head, you cursed his interruption. The brunet was a disaster when asked to focus on two things at once, and as much of a chatterbox as he was, food always won out over anything else.

With a sigh, you ate your lunch, missing the longing gaze in those midnight blue eyes sitting across from you.

Another week passed, and prom night was fast approaching. Garrison High was buzzing with excitement as boys and girls alike gushed over who they were going with and what they were wearing.

The only person you wanted to ask you was your best friend, and only saw you as such. If he didn’t ask you, there wasn’t a point in attending.

“Hey, (y/n),” came Lance’s familiar voice. Classes had ended for the day, and you were ready to go home and escape all of the prom talk.

“Hey, Lance,” you greeted, offering him a weak smile.

“You going to prom?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “I doubt it.”

He frowned. “Why not? Has anyone asked you?”

“Nobody I’m interested in,” you shrugged. “I don’t really want to go with someone I don’t like, and the person I like hasn’t-“ You cut yourself off, a blush on your cheeks.

“The person you like?” the brunet grinned slyly. “You never told me you were crushing on someone.”

“It’s nothing,” you sighed. “He… He’d never be interested in me.”

Lance raised a brow, and you failed to catch the hopeful gleam in his eye. “He? Why not? Is he not into guys?”

“He is,” you countered, “I just don’t think he’s into me.”

Before Lance could question further, you spun on your heel and fled from the building. Any more questions and the Cuban would have figured out you were talking about him, and you couldn’t bear to face him when he pieced it together.

The night before prom, you were sitting in your room. A show you’d long since ceased paying attention to played on the TV, but your eyes were glued to your phone. You had been texting a couple of people about prom, letting them gush to you about how excited they were. You wished them the best of luck, and carefully changed the subject when they asked why you weren’t going. No one knew of your crush on Lance, so you didn’t have to deal with any pitying texts.

An Instagram notification popped up, and you quirked a brow. Lance had tagged you in yet another post. You almost didn’t want to check it, tired of trying to decipher his vague but intriguing hashtags.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked on it. You nearly choked at the sight that met your eyes, not daring to believe it.

In the photo was Lance, his torso hidden behind a notebook that he held up to the camera. Written on the notebook was your name, along with, “Go to prom with me?”

You scrolled down to the caption, your free hand clasping over your mouth in disbelief.

This isnt quite how I intended to tell u, bestie, but ive been crushing on you 4ever. I know im a flirt but around u I just get so shy and flustered, and I cant think of a single pickup line. U deserve better than that anyway. @username will u go to prom with me?

#pleasesayyes #promnight #bestie #bestbud #boyfriendsmaybe?

Biting your lip to keep your grin from breaking your face, you tapped the comments section and typed out a reply.

You dork! I’ve been waiting forever for this! When I said I would only go with the guy I liked, I was talking about you. Of course I’ll go to prom with you!

When prom night arrived, many selfies were taken. During one, you stole a kiss, pleasantly surprising your brown-haired date. When he uploaded the photos to Instagram, he was back to his usual flirtatious self, but with one key difference in his captions.

You were no longer #bestbud. You were now referred to as #bestboyfriend.

#voltron #lance mcclain #lance mcclain x reader #reader insert #male reader

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thepatricktreestump · 6 years

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My Entire World: Tom Holland imagine

A/N: i wrote this one for @fuckyou-imspiderman co-author thingy but i decided to post it on my personal so they can just reblog it from here to keep things easy and so i can see which of y’all are my tom holland stans haha

ask: could you do a imagine were you are the person playing peter parkers love interest in spiderman hoco 2 and it's time for the kiss with tom and you get all nervous. you chose the ending bc i'm a indecisive person and can't chose a ending. thank you - @graceisobsessed

As soon as you saw the role, you knew you just had to audition. You had been a Marvel fan for literally years, and for as long as you could remember, you found yourself staying up late at night flipping through comics or re-watching one of the movies. You were so close to getting the role of MJ in the first movie, but the director had told you that there was a “slight change of plans” and you were moved to an extra instead. Which sucked. But you couldn’t really be mad, because of all actresses, they picked Zendaya to fill your spot. And well, Zendaya was, Zendaya. So instead, you took a deep breath and grit your teeth, playing as one of the people in the background silently. That was, until you realized that they were coming out with a second movie, and for some reason, she wasn’t available for filming, and they were taking new actresses for the part. You knew deep down that MJ stood for Mary Jane Watson, Spider-Man’s future love interest and wife. That meant extra screen time as the trilogy went on, as well as big bucks, especially now that you’d be filling someone like Zendaya’s shoes.

With lots of luck, you scored the role, beaming ear to ear upon hearing the news. You were ecstatic to be part of the main cast this time around and made it a priority to make the crew proud. You showed up early to script readings and interviews and meetings, being sure that you memorized all your lines and listened to critiques. Working with everyone was so much fun, especially Tom. He was so sweet and lighthearted, had a great sense of humor, and always kept his head up, no matter how many times it took to shoot a scene. Your makeup team was doing some touch ups when he came waltzing over, sporting the red and blue spiderweb covered suit, lazy smile on his face.

“What did you think?” he asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Did you see? I got it in just a couple takes!”

“I saw,” you giggled. “You did really well.”

“They didn’t even have to pull in my stunt double!” Tom explained. “I just- pew, pew, shoot, shoot, roll, roll- you know? Awesome!” He made overexcited hand motions along with his ridiculous silly sound effects, making you only laugh even more. He was like a little puppy bouncing around, wide eyed and eager to tell you everything.

“You did really good,” you complimented. “I’m proud of you.”

“P-proud of me?” he raised an eyebrow, flustered, slight blush rising to his cheeks. “Well gosh, thanks y/n. Haha, you did a really good job too!”

“Thanks,” you give a small grin. “Ready to turn in for the day? I think we have only one more scene to wrap up and then we’re done. Well, until tomorrow. God we have to wake up so early for that one take.”

“Ugh I know,” he groans. “But hey, you’ll be there! And I will too! So we can just suffer together, you know?”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, stifling a chuckle. “Come on, let’s get this last scene so I can take a nap.”

Shooting the scene wasn’t too bad, and after a couple of takes, they handed you the parts you’d be doing tomorrow and sent you home. Tom gave you a happy wave before taking off into his ride, and you nodded with a smile, then plopped the script in the shotgun seat and began to drive home. You stopped at a red light, then heard your phone buzz, picking it up and beaming when you read the text. It was from Tom, and he was thanking you for putting up with him during filming today. You laughed aloud as you quickly began to explain to him through typing that he didn’t have to say such things because you enjoyed being around him, then hit send before the light turned green.

There was something about him that you couldn’t help but love. Maybe it was how his laughter was contagious, his smile made your stomach fill with butterflies, and every time he complimented you, your heart skipped a beat. But you could never tell him -or tell anyone, for that matter. It was one thing to have a crush on a celebrity, but to have a crush on a celebrity that you knew personally and were working with? No way. It would be the end for you embarrassment wise, create a weird vibe between your coworker, and if the media got wind of it, millions of articles and tabloids and tweets. It would just be a mess, and you liked Tom too much as a friend to ever lose him just over a silly crush.

You were folding your laundry at home when you caught eye of your phone flashing his name across the screen, requesting for a Facetime call. Sometimes you would text or call, and even Facetime. Especially since you had a lot of shooting time together, you guys had bonded and created a great friendship, so it wasn’t awkward or just business. In fact, you liked to just have conversation or even read through the script for the next day for extra practice. Upon picking up your phone, you found yourself rolling your eyes, wondering what he might want this time, and then accepted it upon fixing your hair in the screen for a couple seconds. “Hey! What’s up?” you greeted, cheery. As much as you sometimes tried, you still couldn’t match his enthusiasm and classic sunshine smile.

“Nothing much. I just had a snack and decided to play some video games,” he explained. He seemed anxious, but you didn’t know about what. “Thought I’d call you up. And you?”

“Folding laundry,” you waved a sweater onto the screen and he smiled.

“By far being much more responsible and productive than I am,” he teased.

“Yeah I haven’t even read the script for tomorrow yet,” you admitted, and that’s when he scratched back of his head, something you realized he did when he was hesitant about something.

“Well uh, that’s kind of the next question I was about to ask you,” he gave a nervous laugh and you raise an eyebrow, curious. Although both of you had already skimmed and read the entire script at the first few meetings before production, you were sure there wasn’t anything to be too nervous about besides certain stunts or tricky scenes.

“Why? Did they change something last minute?” you asked.

“Oh! No, not at all,” he reassured. “It’s just uh, I don’t know, it’s really stupid. I’m like a school boy getting all worked up over this, gosh.”

“Oh,” you turn red at the realization. “It’s the kiss scene, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he let out another nervous laugh and looks away. “I don’t know, just thought that I’d give you a heads up. In case you wanted to bring me a mouthwash or something tomorrow.”

“Oh shut up,” you laughed playfully at his joke. “You are such a clown, Tom!”

“Sorry, bad joke,” he let out a giggle, something genuine, which made you smile. However, you weren’t at ease at all. The idea of kissing him tomorrow still lingered in the back of your mind.

“So uh, you want to do it in one take?” you offered and he blinked, confused. “I mean, so you don’t have to make it uncomfortable or whatever, I don’t know-” you began to ramble on and he frowned.

“Oh, I mean, I guess,” he stammered. “If you want to, I mean, I wouldn’t want you to have to kiss me any more times than you already have to.”

“Right,” you regretted the word as soon as it left your mouth. No! Now he thought you probably hated him.

“Okay,” he looked a little bummed but clouded it with a fake smile. You felt weird inside. Did you offend him by accident? You cringed.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know this is weird-” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s okay,” he insisted. “Your boyfriend would probably get angry at me anyways. I’m the one who called, I’m sorry I made it awkward, uh, I’ll just talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” He speaks so fast you can barely even respond and before you know it he’s gone.

You sigh, frustrated and exhausted by the conversation. You didn’t mean it that way. And why would he mention your boyfriend? You didn’t even have a boyfriend! Did he know that? The sudden thought came to you. Both of you hadn’t mentioned your love lives, no wonder he was probably so nervous for the scene. If only he knew you liked him, that would make things a hundred times worse. Maybe it was better to fake a relationship, for Tom’s sake. But at the same time, you were so head over heels for him, you couldn’t even imagine being with anyone else.

When you showed up the next day to set, Tom was in a corner on his phone, another nervous tick you recognized he did, avoiding eye contact with others by scrolling through his Instagram. “Hey,” you approached him, swallowing down your anxiety. “Ready for the big shoot today?”

“Yup,” he smiled, looking up from his phone. He looked confident, cheery, happy. Maybe you were wrong about your assumption. “How about you?”

“If I’m honest, I’m kind of nervous,” you admitted. “I haven’t really kissed a whole lot of people before.”

“Well I’m right with you on that one,” he smiled. “So we can learn together, right?”

“Wait. Really?” you tilted your head to the side, confused. “But you’re like, the whole eye candy you know? Girls go wild for you.”

“Doesn’t mean they want to date me,” he shrugged. “No matter how many people tweet that they do, they don’t really know me you know? If that makes any sense.”

“I guess,” you hummed. “But I’m sure even if they did, they still would.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head.

“But you’re funny,” you argued. “And sweet, and handsome, and caring, and amazing, and you’re so much fun to be around and-”

“Guys! Get on set! Time to film!” the director shouted. “We don’t have time to blab! We have to get going!”

“U-uh okay,” Tom stuttered out, still shocked by your words.

You were ushered into your proper places for the makeup and costume crew to get a start on getting you ready and in a couple minutes you met Tom in front of the set where you were about to film. Both of you didn’t say anything except exchanged nervous smiles and stood where they instructed and went over lines until you heard the director tell you it was time to film. A nervous feeling bubbled up inside of your stomach, making you feel queasy.

“Superpowers or not, I still care about you,” you recited the line as you had memorized, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek as the script had instructed. You knew it was wrong to think about it romantically in reality, but you couldn’t help it. You liked him so much you just wanted this so bad, and to finally have it, scripted or not, felt like a dream.

“You do?” his expression softened.

“Of course,” you whispered. “I’ve always cared about you, Peter.”

“I thought you hated me MJ,” he confessed. “I didn’t think that you’d ever-”

“Oh shut up and kiss me, Peter,” you rolled your eyes, interrupting him in perfect time. You were about to lean in for the kiss when the director interrupted.

“Cut!” he shouted. “Hold up, I want some more emotion. Some more action, alright? Tom, maybe some more surprise? Y/n, a little more passion? Okay, let’s take that again.”

You cleared you throat, a bit flustered, then returned to your original position, waiting to hear your signal. “Superpowers or not, I still care about you,” you repeated the line, staring into his eyes, putting a hand up to reach his face when he surprised you, catching your wrist.

“Scripted or not, do you care about me?” his expression softened once again, but this time, much more genuine.

“W-what?” you stuttered, taken aback.

“Cut! Hey guys, not on the script!” the director called out, but Tom shook his head.

“I’m sorry I can’t do this without trying to fool myself that it’s real,” he insisted. “I need you to tell me, not MJ, but you y/n. I need you to tell me. Do you really care about me? Enough to kiss me even if it isn’t scripted or acted or anything? Do you like me the same way I like you?”

“Tom-” your voice got caught in your throat.

“It’s okay if you don’t, but I just need to know,” he told you. “Please.”

“Guys we really don’t have time for this!” the director insisted but you ignored everyone else in the room and kissed him, right then and there, pressing his lips to yours, his entire face turning bright red. You pulled away, your face turning the exact same shade.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I do care about you, Tom. So much. So very much.”

“Really?” he broke out into a huge smile. “For real?”

“Of course,” you laughed. “Definitely.”

“Can we please just get on with the-”

“Yes!” both of you cut the director off with a burst of giggles. “Yeah, yeah, we can!”

“Alright,” he groaned. “Come on, lovebirds. This shot better be good.”

And it was. Every single take you put as much passion into it as you could, and so did Tom. The directors and crew were all for it, and even at sometimes had to pull you two apart because you sort of got lost in the moment. It felt like the best day of your life, like you could do anything in the entire world. “Want to hang out after shooting today?” you gave a small smile.

“Want to?” he raised his eyebrows. “More like need to.”

“Alright,” you rolled your eyes. “Good to know.”

“And hey,” he poked you in the arm playfully. “You know I’ve always felt this way about you, alright? It’s not just cause of the kiss scene today. I really do care about you.”

“As do I,” you smiled. “There’s always been something about you, Tom. And I’ve been so scared to tell you how I truly feel, because I was terrified deep down that you’d never feel the same way.”

“Well lucky you,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Because I do. I feel the exact same way if not more.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “It means the world.”

“You,” he looked into your eyes, giving a small smile. “You are my entire world.”

“Thanks,” you mouthed.

“Now come on,” he nudged you softly. “We still have a couple more scenes to go.”

#tom holland imagines #spideman imagines #spiderman homecoming imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader fanfiction #tom holland x reader fanfic #tom holland x reader fic #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland is an angel

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