Title: Firecracker Fandom: Riverdale Characters: Archie Andrews x River Vixen!reader, Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper, Cheryl Blossom, Reggie Mantle, Kevin Keller, Jughead Jones Warnings: None Word Count: 1,629 Requested: Yes, by anonymous Short Description: You, a river vixen and Archie’s girlfriend, never fail to make Archie smile; or blush for that matter. The two of you are a sophomore power couple at Riverdale, Archie as quarterback of the football team and you as Cheryl Blossom’s successor as cheer captain when she graduates. A/N: Archie’s nickname for you is firecracker bc you’re a total babe. Also, I absolutely live for writing River vixen!reader fics. Seriously.
Disclaimer: not my gif
[Y/N] = your first name [Y/L/N] = your last name
Being a Riverdale Vixen habitually put you at the top of the Riverdale High School social scheme. But for you, it just meant that you could let loose as you cheered on your football star boyfriend, Archie Andrews. You and Archie had been together for over a year, and you loved being a River Vixen. Cheerleading had always been up your alley. You had a fiery, sassy attitude, which earned you the nickname that Archie gave you: firecracker. Only Archie ever called you that, and you thought he was beyond sweet for giving it to you.
“Y/N!” the harmonious voice of Cheryl Blossom, the senior captain of the River Vixens, acknowledged you as you stood at your locker. You glanced over at her, seeing the beautiful redhead smiling an authentic smile at you. A lot of people thought that Cheryl Blossom was cold-hearted and malicious, but you had known her since your Freshman year at Riverdale, and you had always gotten along well with her.
“Hey Cheryl,” you greeted, closing your locker and leaning against it with a beam. “What’s up?”
“Don’t forget that we have a mandatory River Vixens practice after school before the game tonight,” Cheryl reminded you as you both began strolling in the direction of the student lounge. “I mean, I didn’t think that you would, but better safe than sorry.” She inserted and you nodded your head.
“Of course, captain,” you laughed, teasing her. “I’ll make sure B and V get there too,” you assured Cheryl before parting ways as you entered the student lounge. Betty, Veronica and Kevin were all sat together on the sofa chairs, chatting amongst themselves as Kevin finished his homework at the last minute. “Good morning Vixens,” you saluted them, taking a seat next to Betty with a grin. “Cheryl just reminded me that we have practice after school before the game tonight, so be there.” You added, and Betty and Veronica both expressed their anticipation for the game that evening.
Two hands covered your eyes, and you heard Betty and Veronica giggling quietly to themselves. “Jughead, I already told you, not at school,” you joked, knowing that it was Archie as you covered his hands with yours and pulled them away from your face. You turned and laughed, seeing Archie smiling at you, dressed in his varsity jacket, as per usual. Jughead stood behind him with a smirk.
“Oh Y/N, you’ve revealed our affair.” He joked, nudging you with his elbow as he passed before taking a seat next to Veronica. “However will I satisfy my need for pep now?” Jughead added – making fun of your status as a cheerleader, and the slogan of your hometown – and you got up to greet Archie with a kiss.
This is just a lot of smut cause I am thirsty as fuckkkkkkkkk.
The moment you laid eyes on Thomas you knew you wanted him. It was an instant attraction. You gravitated towards him before you even realized your feet were moving, the second he stepped in the room. He seemed to feel the same, his whiskey eyes following your every movement. There was only one problem. Brenda.
Summary: After regaining some of your memories, you and Jungkook finally face the truth.
Word count: 1.9k words
When Jieun came home, she found you sitting on the floor. Your eyes were red, but your tears had dried long ago. Jieun regarded your blank expression with concern, immediately dropping to the ground to check on you.
“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jieun asked frantically, looking at your body for injuries. “Did you hurt your leg again? Why are you crying?”
You sighed and closed your eyes, feeling more tired than upset. Jieun’s flittering hands stilled, as if she sensed that something was off.
“I remember now, Jieun,” you said. “I remember what happen that night, and what happened after. I know that you and Jungkook were a thing, and that he rejected me right away.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Jieun whispered, her own eyes watering. “I didn’t want to upset you or confuse you. It hurt you so much the first time, I didn’t want to see you go through it again.”
“I just don’t understand,” you replied, your voice strained with frustration. “Did you like him? Do you still like him? Is that why you tried to hide your relationship with him from me?”
“What? No! No, of course not,” Jieun exclaimed, her eyes widening with surprise. “I mean, I did have a bit of a crush on him, but our relationship was just physical. It ended as soon as you two figured out that you’re…you know, soulmates.”
“But I’m still confused,” you said, trying to hold off another wave of tears. “Jungkook said he wanted nothing to do me. But now he’s so sweet. He’s like two different people, and I don’t know which one is the real him.”
“Just talk to him,” Jieun smiled, rubbing your back gently. “He’s not as bad as you remember. I’m sure the person Jungkook is with you now is the person he wishes he was when you first met.”
“Still, why was he so cruel in the beginning?” you asked helplessly. “I don’t know if I can forgive that.”
“Only Jungkook can answer that,” Jieun replied softly. “Promise me you’ll talk to him, okay?”
You nodded, realizing that Jieun knew much more than she let on. She helped you to your feet and led you back to the couch. You decided you wouldn’t press her for more information, because in the end, you would need to talk to Jungkook eventually.
Even though you had decided to talk to Jungkook, you hadn’t been able to muster enough courage to confront him. He had no idea that you had regained your memories, so he was contacting you like usual. But when you picked up your phone to reply, the events of your first encounter flashed before your eyes. Every time that happened, you put your phone down and tried to ignore your heavy heart.
So, to put it simply, you had been ignoring Jungkook for the past week.
You had several unread messages in your inbox from Jungkook. Surely Jungkook was so popular, he wasn’t used to be ignored. The texts started coming less frequently, and you wondered if they would eventually stop all together. You figured–albeit guiltily–that if Jungkook really wanted company, he could find another girl.
One Thursday afternoon, you were reading through some notes sent to you by a classmate when you heard Jungkook’s thoughts whispering in the back of your head. You jumped, growing unaccustomed to your soulmate’s presence after such a long period of silence.
“Why isn’t she talking to me?” Jungkook thought, and although it was quiet in your mind, you could hear the worry in your voice. Your heart panged, and you felt bad for assuming the worst of Jungkook. Clearly, he was still thinking of you. “Did I do something wrong again?”
No, not again. The first mistake was hurtful enough. But of course, Jungkook had no idea that you remembered what he had done. You wanted to scream at him–make him hurt as much as he had hurt you. But you also just wanted to see him again, because you had grown to love the caring side of Jungkook that he had shown you.
“Maybe her condition got worse,” came Jungkook’s next thought, which sounded even more alarmed than the last. “I should stop by. Yeah–I’ll go after class.”
You jumped to your feet, wavering as you tried to catch your balance. Reaching out for your crutches, you hobbled out of your room and into the living room, where Jieun was playing guitar.
“Jieun!” you screeched, making her jump.
“Oh my god!” Jieun squealed, placing a hand over her heart dramatically. “Why are you screaming at me?”
“Jungkook’s coming here after his class is over,” you hurried to explain, your words overlapping in your haste. Still, Jieun understood what you were trying to say.
“Oh, so do you need me to leave?” Jieun asked, setting aside her guitar. “I can disappear for an hour or two.”
“No, no! Definitely do not leave,” you squeaked desperately. “I’m not ready to see him! I need you to cover for me. Tell him that I’m not home and that I forgot my phone here.”
“What? Y/N, are you avoiding him?” Jieun demanded, her face growing dark. “You promised me that you would talk to him! Ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.”
“I know, I know!” you replied. “And I will talk to him, but I’m just not ready yet. I need time to process everything so that I can face him properly. I don’t want to get upset and ruin things forever.”
Jieun’s face softened at your obvious fear, and she sighed. “I understand why you’re scared, but you should trust Jungkook a little bit too,” she argued. “He’s shown you that he’s a good guy, right? I get why you’re so hesitant, believe me. But I’m also seeing this from Jungkook’s perspective, too.”
“You’re my friend, be on my side!” you whined. Jieun rolled her eyes at you.
“Okay, don’t do that. I’m doing what’s best for you,” Jieun said. “Even though you don’t want to talk to him now, in the long run, you’ll be thanking me for making you two work out your problems.”
“I’ll thank you even more if you cover for me this one time,” you said, on the borderline of begging. “I swear I’ll talk to him after, Jieun! I just need a little more time. I’m really not ready to see Jungkook.”
“Fine,” Jieun sighed, falling back onto the couch in frustration. “I’ll cover for you this one time. You can go hide in your room or whatever.”
“Thank you so much, Jieun!” you cried. “I love you so much! You’re the best.”
“I know,” Jieun laughed. “And I’m assuming you ignored all of Jungkook’s attempts to contact you up until now?”
You looked away guiltily.
When Jungkook knocked on the door, you were hiding in your room. Your bedroom door was left slightly ajar, so if you peeked through, you could see the foyer. Jieun approached it, glaring at you as she did. You sent her a thankful smile.
Jieun opened the door, but you couldn’t see Jungkook.
“Oh, Jieun,” Jungkook said. You missed the sound of his sweet voice–you could admit that. “Is Y/N around? I haven’t heard from her since I saw her last week.”
“No, she’s not around,” Jieun replied easily. “Y/N had to spend the week with her grandparents, because they got really worried when they heard about the accident. And she was dumb enough to leave her phone at home.”
“Oh,” Jungkook said, sounding surprised. It sounded like a valid excuse, and you were a little shocked that Jieun was so good at lying. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell me earlier.”
“It’s because she didn’t know that she would be leaving until her grandparents showed up,” Jieun answered. She continued a bit sheepishly, “Actually, I was supposed to tell you that she would be out of town. I guess I forgot.”
“Yeah, guess you did,” Jungkook replied dryly. Jieun just shrugged and sent him a carefree smile. “When will she be back?”
“Sometime next week,” Jieun said. You gulped, realizing that she was giving you a deadline.
“Alright,” Jungkook said slowly. He sounded like he was getting ready to leave. “Thanks, I guess.”
Jieun began to close the door slowly. You exhaled in relief, feeling your body deflate. I can’t believe that worked, you thought. Jieun should have been an actress.
“What the fuck?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly thundered. Jieun jumped, backing away from the door. Jungkook burst through the foyer. “Why are you lying to me?”
“W-what are you talking about?” Jieun stammered.
“Y/N, where are you?” Jungkook called out, ignoring Jieun completely. “I know you’re here. I can hear you thinking right now.”
“Yeah, oh shit is right,” Jungkook snorted. He scanned the apartment, finally settling on your bedroom door. He saw your face peeking through, and he smiled slightly and began to approach you.
Accepting your fate, you pulled yourself to your feet and opened the door, clutching the doorframe for support.
“Why are you avoiding me?” Jungkook asked once he stood in front of you, the hurt clear in his downtrodden expression. “Did I do something to upset you?”
“Yeah, you did,” you replied tiredly.
“What was it?” Jungkook questioned, confused. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, if I did. I thought you had a good time with me last week.”
“I did,” you smiled. “You’ve been really great since the hospital. You helped me a lot, and you’re fun to be around.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Jungkook asked, cocking his head adorably in confusion.
“It’s what happened before then,” you said simply.
Jungkook paled, his mouth opening slightly. His eyes lowered, and you could see his jaw clenching. He stood there quietly for a few moments, but eventually, he tentatively lifted his gaze to meet yours.
“You remember everything,” Jungkook said quietly. It wasn’t a question. He was biting his lip nervously, and you wondered why he was the nervous one when it was you who had been deceived all along.
“Not everything, but I remember enough,” you responded. You broke your eye contact with Jungkook, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t understand you at all, Jungkook. Why are being so nice now?”
“It’s…it’s a really long story,” Jungkook sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t justify what I did, but if it means anything to you, I regret everything that happened that night. I didn’t mean a word I said.”
“Then why did you say what you did?”
“Like I said, it’s a long story,” Jungkook replied. “I can explain it to you if you’re willing to listen. I’ll tell you everything, I promise. And if you don’t want to see me after this, I won’t bother you ever again.”
“How do I know that what you’re saying is the truth?” you asked, looking at Jungkook for any signs of deceit.
“You’ll just have to trust me.”
You almost laughed–how could you trust him so easily again? But you remembered the boy who had slept by your bedside in the hospital, and the boy who acted like you were the most interesting thing in the world. The boy who had promised to sing to you.
“Fine, I’ll listen,” you breathed.
- Girl in Luv
Ok…this took to long. I kind of lost inspiration for this series, but it’s back now! You can expect more regular updates. The story’s drawing to a close…so what do think is going to happen? Also heads up: no posts tomorrow night. We’re going to prom!!! Thanks for reading guys! Ya girl’s gonna get turnt!
You write for guardians of the Galaxy!!!! I just looove rocket raccoon and I
was wondering if you can do a one shot for rocket where he is always upgrading
your weapons to get closer to you because he likes you and groot knows this so
he secretly breaks your weapons so you can be together with rocket 💖 Thank you so much! 😊💖💞💓💕
You weren’t sure how, exactly, but once again,
your blaster was jammed. You shook it a few times and then
hit the end of it against a railing. But when you pulled the trigger, nothing
“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, looking back at
you from the cockpit of the Milano.
“Blaster’s jammed. Again.”
“Might wanna have Rocket take a peek.”
“That’s where I’m going.” You sighed,
climbing the ladder up to Rocket and Groot’s shared bedroom/greenhouse. Groot
had a habit now to buy little potted plants every time they went to a market on
some far off planet. You sometimes came up here to tend to the flowers when the
boys forgot. Or at least, when Rocket forgot and Groot pretended to.
The large tree had seen the way his small
friend looked at you when you weren’t looking. God, Rocket knew it wasn’t
normal. Hell, he was half of your height and on your planet, he was considered
a common rodent. But the team had been all over space. They’d seen galaxies
full of beauty and wonder, and he still swore he saw more stars in your eyes
than he ever had in the universe stretched out around them.
It was also the reason Groot had jammed
your blasters four times this week.
“Rockeeettt? Can you do me a favor?”
“What is it this time?” Rocket tried to
cover his racing heartrate with a snide comment. It had sort of worked. A
genuinely proud grin found Groots mouth as he silently left the room.
“Blaster’s jammed again.”
“What the hell do you do to this thing?!”
“I didn’t touch it! It was working fine
yesterday and now it won’t fire!”
“All right, let’s see what we have here…”
he held out his paw for your weapon, which you gladly turned over to him. He
looked inside the barrel of the gun, squinting one of his eyes. His night vision
certainly helped him spot what was very obviously a piece of wood. Groot. Oh,
he might have to have a talk with that overgrown shrub.
“What is it?” You brushed a lock of purple
hair behind your ear, causing him to lose focus for a second.
“Hand me the tweezers, would ya?” You
nodded, plucking them off of the workstation and handing them to him. He very
carefully reached inside and pulled out what was no doubt a piece of Groot’s
finger. That bastard.
“Well I don’t know how that
got in there, but I’ll have to tell Groot not to mess with my guns.” You
chuckled. He smirked and nodded.
“Yeah, probably.” He paused. “Do you maybe
want to come up here tonight? There are some upgrades to your armor I think
could really help your fighting.”
“Sounds great, Rocket.” You smirked,
ruffling his fur under your hand. “And you know, if you ever want to hang out,
you can just ask instead of having Giving Tree jam my blasters.”
“But I didn’t-”
You were already walking down the ladder
when Groot ventured back into the small space.
•pairing: min yoongi x reader, pianist! yoongi • genre/warnings: smut, oral,
fingering, slightly-dom! yoongi, • words: 4,373 → summary: in which Yoongi
is your piano teacher and you just can’t stop yourself from looking at those
delicate fingers and all the not-so delicate things he could do with them… • note. inspired by a
request I received here. I have never studied the form of a piano so intently
before now just to make this smut doable.
Word Count: 1,380 Reader Gender: Female i guess idk Warnings: Jealousy, arguement, him arguing with other girls, cursing Love Interest: Peitro Maximoff Note: There is a 200000/10 chance that there will be a second part
I crossed my arms as I glared at him, waiting for him to finish his little show. Anger and irritation bubbled inside of me, and I mentally cursed myself for trusting him enough to leave him alone. I go into the shop for five fucking minutes, and I come out to this shit. I tried pulling him away from the girls that were flirting with him, but it just shrugged me off. The worst part about the whole thing? He was flirting back.
His ass was flirting with other people and he was loving it. I’m not sure if he got the memo, but he’s not single anymore. He’s in a relationship with me, and I have half a mind to kick his ass. I clutched harder at the plastic bag that was in my hand, the contents were requested by none other than the douche himself. I grunted, deciding that he wasn’t going to finish anytime soon. I walked up to him, gripping his shoulder and turning him around.
“We’re leaving.” I said sternly.
“Who’s the slut?” One of the girls asked.
“I’m his girlfriend.” I spat, anger coursing through me.
“Oh really? Then why is he over here?” Another girl asked.
“Slut.” The first one said.
“Pornhub called, honey, they say your resume is too extensive.” I spat.
“I’m not going anywhere, why don’t you find somewhere else to be.” Pietro offered in an annoyed tone.
“Fine,” I shoved the bag in his chest, walking away, “But you’re finding a new place to live.”
It didn’t take him long to appear at my side, but I didn’t acknowledge his existence. I was still beyond pissed at the little act he pulled moments ago. He wouldn’t like it if I did that stuff to him, he’d be pissed. I’d get my ear chewed off, so why does he think it’s okay for him to do it? I still had my arms crossed over my chest, a clear indication that I was angry. Despite my body language, he still tried to talk to me.
He said that he was confused, which just pissed me off even more. What the hell does he mean? He doesn’t get to be confused, he gets to feel like an ass. I sent a glare his way, instantly shutting him up. I looked away from him, rolling my eyes and focusing on getting home. I’ll deal with him there, right now I’m too angry to talk to him. He didn’t even stand up for me, he just let them trash talk me.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”Pietro shouted as I closed the door to the apartment.
“Oh, I don’t know, my boyfriend just completely forgot that my ass existed. Forgive me if I’m a little pissed off.” I glared, flipping him off.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“You were flirting with those girls! I heard you the entire time! One of them was even talking dirty to you!” I yelled, “God, Pietro, where do you draw the line?!”
“You’re just being jealous and oversensitive.” Pietro said, walking past me.
“I’m not any of those things! I’m just worried that maybe my boyfriend is cheating on me!” I yelled, feeling the anger mix with betrayal.
“I can’t help it, Y/n! The ladies like me, get over it. I’m not going to stop just because some worthless little girl doesn’t like it.” He spat, glaring at me.
I was silent for a moment, absorbing his words completely. Is that all I was to him? Just some little girl? Not his girlfriend or anything? My brows furrowed, and I took his words to heart. He can’t just get over himself for two seconds to listen to me? I took in a deep breath, realizing that his opinion on this matter wasn’t going to be changing anytime soon. I saw his face soften, and I wiped the tears away from my eyes.
“Worthless?” I questioned.
“Oh, come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” He reasoned.
“Then how did you mean it?” I asked quietly, but he didn’t respond, “That’s what I thought.”
With that, I quickly walked into the bedroom that him and I shared. I got out the suitcase that I took with me on extended missions. I started packing my things, no longer feeling welcome in here. I took a deep breath, sadness now kicking in rather than anger. I sighed, shaking my head as I shoved more clothes into the suitcase. I heard Pietro enter the room, thanks to the small breeze of wind that had picked up out of nowhere.
“What are you doing?” Pietro questioned.
“I am taking my worthless self out of here so you can continue living your wonderful life as a bachelor.” I said, zipping up the suitcase.
“You can’t leave me, Y/n. I love you, don’t do this to me.” He pleaded.
“Love me? You’ve been flirting and getting random chicks numbers the entire time you’ve been dating me, you don’t stand up for me when they insult me, then you call me a worthless little girl, and you have the audacity to say you love me?” I questioned, narrowing my eyes.
“Please, just stay with me.” He pleaded, and I sighed as I looked into his eyes.
He looked like a lost puppy on a rainy day.
“Do you promise to stop flirting with people that aren’t me?” I questioned, slightly hopeful.
“I,” He stuttered, “I don’t.” He trailed off and I shook my head, laughing dryly.
“It’s nice to know that the man I’ve been dating for 3 years doesn’t love me enough to actually act like he’s dating me.” I said, moving past him and to the door.
“You don’t understand.” Pietro said, blocking the door.
“I understood clearlywhen you called me worthless,” Tears formed, “I understood when you flirted with the other girls and acted like you didn’t know me,” My voice broke, “And I understood when you couldn’t even promise you’d stop. I’m not good enough, and I never will be.”
“Just give me another chance, Princessa.” He said, cupping my cheeks.
“Pietro, don’t you get it?” I removed his hands from my face, “I’m exhausted! I’m mentally and physically drained from trying to take the pressure and the hurt of your actions. From arguing with you over the same things. I’ve given you dozens of chances.” I huffed, and he went silent.
I shoved him out of the way, walking out and slamming the door shut. Tears fell from my eyes as I left the complex, my suitcase on my shoulders like it was a backpack. The weight of the entire event settled onto my mind, and I angrily wiped my eyes. I didn’t expect him and I to actually end, but if he thinks I’m not good enough for him then I’ll leave him be. I know when to push, and when to walk away, and today it was the ladder.
I found myself walking to Tony’s place, which was the only place I felt like I could go right now. Questions swam through my mind, drowning out everything else. Had he been cheating on me? When did he decide that I wasn’t good enough? I was just so tired of fighting to keep him, and fighting to make him see that what he was doing was wrong. I was emotionally exhausted, and, in turn, it made me physically exhausted.
“What are you doing here?” Tony asked, not looking at me as I entered the room.
“I,” I took a deep breath, “I was hoping I could stay here for a little while.”
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He turned around, hearing the sadness in my voice.
“It’s nothing.” I shook my head as he came closer.
“Well, I’d love to hear about nothing.” He joked.
“We broke up.” I held back a cry.
“What? Why? Do I need to kill him?” Tony asked, visibly concerned.
“He just makes me exhausted.” You sighed.
“Well, how about you have a seat and I’ll pour us some drinks?” He offered.
“What’s the price?” I eyes him.
“Dirt, details, blackmail.” He stated, turning around and going to get a couple glasses.
Summery: Modern-Day(AU) Bucky and you are former exes. He moved on but you couldn’t. Since you both are still friends, he asks you for a favor. You reluctantly agree, not thinking of the future consequences you’ll have to face. You just hope everything will go fine with your two best friends, Steve and Natasha by your side.
A/N: This part made me too emotional and I cried several times and I had to take breaks from writing it because damn, it was too much. So far, the best chapter I’ve contributed to this series, and I really hope you guys like it!
Also I love Tom and Jerry.
Please leave me some comments to read when I wake up in the morning, so that they make my day! lol, love me, I’m needy.
A/N: Here it is you guys! The Epilogue! *cries historically* I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who’ve stuck with this story! It’s my first series and y'all are hella awesome for all the positivity!! 😭❤ Pls excuse any misspelling! And most of all, enjoy! - Delilah ❤
“Ms. Y/L/N,” Friday chimed. “Mr. Barnes requests your presence in his room.”
You couldn’t stop the grin that spread on your face. Bucky and you were an official couple now, and you couldn’t help but feel as though the world was twice the better place than before. You’d never say it out loud, but you were falling for him. And you were falling hard.
Giving Friday a subtle okay, you made your way down the corridors to Bucky’s room. As you walked, the memories of your drunken endeavors replayed in your mind. In some weird way, you had Tony to thank. If he hadn’t have stumbled upon Let’s Pretend, you and Bucky wouldn’t be in the very happy relationship that you were currently in.
Opening the door, you were met with the sight of your boyfriend on his bed, the laptop once again on his lap. He grinned at the sight of you and patted the empty space on the bed beside him. He looked so handsome it was almost painful.
“What’s up?” You ask, sliding into the space and throwing an arm over his middle. You rested your head on his shoulder and looked at the glowing screen.
“The fans are going psychotic over the videos,” he says, peering down at you with a smile. And he was right. The video had been posted two days ago and the entire site was losing their minds. The three videos were released at the same time, but of course, the real one was the highest in views.
The fans were literally divided. The first half argued that the first video was real because of the subliminal messages (even though there were none). The other half believed that the third video was real, based on the fact that instead of the usual background, the video took place in a swimming pool; thankfully they were wrong as well.
Now the third half, those were the smart ones. Instead of looking at the whole plot, they noticed small details. Like how Bucky’s hair was shorter the last time he wore the 40’s uniform. Why would he have longer hair? Why couldn’t one of the girls shapeshift him with short hair?
Another huge giveaway was your tattoo on your hip. You hadn’t told anyone that you had it, even your close friends didn’t know. So when the fans caught a glimpse of the small heart on your hip, it raised some eyebrows.
But despite all of the solid evidence, the fans were certain it was real, not because of the physicality, but the chemistry. You and Bucky were in love and it only made sense that your first time would be rather passionate. In the previous videos, it was mostly sexual playfulness between your characters. But when they saw the way your eyes stared into Bucky’s with pure passion and the way he made you orgasm so hard that you cried, they instantly knew.
The comment section was an adorable war zone.
“@NuggetQueenxx no it’s the first vid! Her hair is darker!!”
“U guyz r hella dumb. It’s totes vid #3. Bucky’s dick is bigger!”
“Guys trust me, I’m THE Y/N expert! It’s the second video.”
“It’s the second vid y'all! Look @ how he kisses her! They never kiss!!!!”
“@WhiskeyxPrincess I SAID THE SAME THING OMG!”
“It’s definitely the third one. Bucky’s arm looks shinier!”
“Nah the first one is real. My friend knows them! (;“
You and Bucky continued scrolling through the comments, giggling like children at the crazed fans. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t reach out to them. If word got out that The Winter Soldier and Y/N Y/L/N had a sextape, no one would take the Avengers seriously anymore.
Not to mention, your family would be extremely disappointed in you. And Tony would be there cackling like a crow through all of it.
You felt Bucky press a tender kiss onto your forehead.
“At least we look hot,” he says cheekily, making you both erupt in laughter.
A week later, Bucky’s in Tony’s lab getting his usual repairs for his arm. Everything was going great, until Tony brought up his beloved missing camera that he had mysteriously stumbled upon in his old room.
Bucky nearly fell off the chair. He must’ve forgotten it after moving out of his room. You both decided that he should keep the camera, as he’d be suspected less. Everyone always suspected you when it came down to missing stuff and you never knew why.
“Maybe you left it there?” Bucky murmured. He needed to stay calm. Maybe he hadn’t seen it yet, and all Bucky need to do was sneak back in there later and delete it. Problem solved! No need to lose his head ye-
“I found a rather interesting video on there,” Tony says with a smirk as he tinkered with the super soldier’s arm. “Care to elaborate on that?”
Oh God, Y/N was going to murder him.
“I don’t know what your talking about,” Bucky meant for it to be a plain statement, but instead it came out like a question. A very squeaky question.
It’s as if life had a personal vendetta against him. Of all the people to need assistance from Tony, Steve walked in, broken iPhone in hand with a small sheepish smile. This was the fourth time cracking his screen.
“Speak of the devil,” Tony smirked. “Bucky here was just telling me about the ol’ war days.”
Steve cocked his head to the side curiously and eyed his best friend. “Oh really? You’re memories are getting better, Buck.” He pats his friend on the shoulder and pulls up one of the metal stools.
“Yeah! He was telling me about the time you got shot up and the nearest hospital was like….ten years away, haha!”
Steve followed Tony’s laugh with his own. “You’re gonna have to be more specific about that,” he says. “It’s happened more than I can count.”
Tony let out a cackle, clapping his hands together. Bucky was never going to get out of this. Why did life hate him so much? This is not what he had in mind when it came to karma. Death by humiliation sounded like an inane way to go.
“Well, from this particular story, a LOT happened after that, if you catch my drift.” The black haired man said with a wink. Bucky covered his face with his hands in shame.
Steve, being the pure angel he was, was completely oblivious to the innuendo. He stared at his friend, trying to recall the many near death experiences that ended in anything peculiar. But alas, he found none.
“I’m not following,” Steve admitted after a pregnant pause. Bucky let out a sigh of despair.
“You know what,” Tony says, walking to his toolbox and digging around. “I think this’ll help refresh your memory a bit.” In his hand, was THE camera that Bucky and Y/N used for the video.
“YOU KNOW WHAT,” Bucky exclaimed as he stood from the chair and began to drag Steve away. “I FORGOT WE HAD TRAINING!”
Steve wiggled in his friend’s grasp, grabbing onto various things in an attempt to make him stop. What had gotten into his friend?
“What the hell is going on?” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.
The three men freeze, staring at you with wide eyes. Tony didn’t plan on having this conversation with you present, but now he had no choice. He might’ve been a egotistical little shit, but he was certainly not a whimp.
You narrowed your eyes at him.
Okay, maybe he was a little bit.
“Tony was just trying to show me this video Bucky made for me, but he won’t let me see.” Steve replied, straightening himself up.
Your eyes widened when you saw the camera in Tony’s hand. “It’s really nothing, Steve!” You tried your best to convince him. “Like, really. Nothing.”
“Oh, it’s definitely SOMETHING.” Tony chimed in.
You shot Bucky a panicked glance, trying to fight the urge to cry. You just KNEW Tony would do something with it. He might go as far as posting it on the Stark Industries website, because that’s right up his alley.
The sound of metal being crushed broke you from your trance. Bucky had grabbed the camera from Tony’s hand and slammed it into the floor, shattering it into a million tiny pieces.
“WHAT THE FUCK, BARNES!” He shouted, his face turning an angry scarlet.
Without another word, Bucky had scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, running as fast as he could out of the lab. The last thing you heard was Tony’s angry swears and threats.
Impressively, Bucky didn’t let you down until you both were in the safety of your shared room with the door locked. He set you on the bed gently before plopping beside you with a satisfied sigh.
You turned to him and gave him a small smack on his behind, making him jump. He frowned, turning his head and looking at you.
“I told you like ten times to pack the camera!” You pouted, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend.
“I’m sorry, doll,” he sighed, propping himself up on his elbow. “You know how forgetful I can be.”
You roll your eyes playfully and run your hands through his hair. He leaned into your touch, putting softly.
“You know,” you say. “We could always make videos on our phones. No one will find those.”
His eyes flew open in surprise, making you laugh.
“You promise?” He asks adorably.
Steve and Natasha stared at the purple fluorescent background of Let’sPretend.com. Their eyes trailed over video after video of the pair. But what caught their attention the most was a certain video in particular.
“Captain America Gets A Fourth of July Blowjob By Black Widow!”
The thumbnail was a picture of Natasha with her finger on her lips in a shushing motion. She was dressed in only a bikini with little American flags printed on them, the top was a few sizes too small and barely covered her nipples. She was kneeling seductively in front of a semi nude Steve, who was wearing only the same white cotton briefs from before.
And dare she say it, they looked hot.
The blond took her silence as a sign of discomfort, to which he let out a small cough, gaining her attention.
“I-I’m sorry if this is too weird,” he says, reaching for the laptop, only to be stopped by Nat.
She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him closer, ghosting her lips against his.
“You’ve got two minutes, Cap. When get back here I want you on your hands and knees. Got it?” She asks, her eyes burning with desire.
Steve’s eyes widened at her sudden dominance before nodding, his erection already forming a tent in his gray sweatpants.
Words: 2,058(I may have gotten a little carried away)
Dean x Reader
Summary: Reader is Castiel’s daughter and is sneaking around with Dean.
Warnings:SMUT!!, daddy kink
Being Jimmy’s oldest daughter wasn’t easy. I had to accept at a young age that I would never see my father again, but in his place was this… Being. Castiel. At first he scared me, and I refused to be around him. “You’re not my dad…” I remember telling him the first time I met him. But as I continued to get older, I started to value him more, and I consider him to be my father now.
Today, I’m in college, still living with Jody. Even though Alex and Claire might not appreciate her, I do. After my little sister and I were left with no one, she was nice enough to let the two of us stay with her. Even now, when she’s technically not responsible for me anymore since I’m almost twenty-two, she lets me stay here instead of forcing me to live in a dorm. I will be eternally grateful, and Claire’s actions just pissed me off sometimes.
“Y/N, dinner time! And while you’re up there, tell Claire to get out of her room and join us!” Jody yelled from the kitchen downstairs. I picked my head up from my lore book, marking my place and setting it down gently on my bed. The one, and probably only, thing that my sister and I did have in common was our eagerness to hunt. Even then, that’s a long shot. She’s irresponsible, and half the time she’s wrong. I’m surprised she’s not in jail yet, even with Jody being the sheriff.
I close my door on my way out of my room, and pop my head into Claire’s room.
“Time to eat.” I tell her, watching her writing in a notebook.
“And I don’t care. Come downstairs.” I roll my eyes. She huffs and rolls her eyes, but ultimately gets up and following me to the kitchen. God, her food smells so good.
“Where’s Alex?” I ask.
“Out with friends, I guess. She was vague on details.” Jodi tells me, setting my plate on lasagna on the table.
“She’s probably out having sex with that new boyfriend of hers.” Claire snickered.
“Her boyfriend’s an asshole, I don’t know why she’s with him.” I respond.
“Oh, you’re one to talk. You’re the one who screws-“ She started, but cut herself off when she realized she was going too far. A look of panic crosses my face, and Jody looks at me quizzically. Thankfully, she doesn’t push it any further.
“Hey, Y/N, I was going to tell you earlier but I forgot. Dean called me earlier, said they need extra help on a hunting trip. Asked if you wanted to go along.”
“What? Of course I want to!” I practically yelled.
“I figured. They’ll be here tomorrow morning. After dinner, go pack.”
“That’s so not fair!” Claire whined. “They never invite me to go hunting with them.”
“I’m older than you, and quite frankly, a better hunter. So, quit.” I say, trying to stop the conversation before it happened. She has no filter.
I finish my dinner quickly, and excuse myself to my room to pack, only thinking about Dean. There had always been chemistry between the two of us, but he didn’t ever act on it until about a year ago. There was a case in the next town over, so Sam and Dean stayed at our house. One night, we were drinking a little, one thing led to another and we slept together.
We both felt extremely guilty about it. Not only was I only 20 years old, meaning he’s almost double my age, but because I’m his best friend’s daughter. Castiel cared about me and treated me like a daughter to the best of his ability, and if he found out that Dean had just screwed his daughter silly… I didn’t even want to think about it.
For a while, we avoided each other. When we did see each other after that, we never talked about that night. It was strictly business, or him asking how I have been. But I could see the way he looked at me. I could feel his staring at me when he doesn’t think I notice. I see the way he always seems to want to tell me something, but never does.
Claire noticed, too. “What’s going on between you and Dean? He’s looks at you like a man looks at his fiancé on their wedding day.” She finally asked one day, as we were sitting in her room together watching TV.
I made the mistake of hesitating to answer. She threatened to tell Jody, or worse, Castiel, if I didn’t tell her what happened. She promised not to tell anybody, but oh man, did she hold that over my head anytime she wanted something.
The second time we did it, it was in his impala. Castiel had called me, asking if I could accompany him in a hunt. I obliged, thinking it would only be us two. I showed up and got the surprise of my life when I saw the boys there, too. I don’t remember exactly how we ended up together in the car, but there had been so much sexual tension between us, going unspoken. We just started ripping each other’s clothes off, and had some really great sex in the backseat.
Ever since then, Dean and I had been finding every excuse to be together. The hard part was keeping it a secret and making sure no one was suspicious.
I finish packing, excited to see him tomorrow. I shouldn’t be this excited. He doesn’t want a relationship, I know that. I know it’s strictly sex. But a part of me wants more. I want to be able to call Dean my boyfriend, to able to not sneak around with him. I want to be able to tell him how much I love him, to feel happy with him. To have that “apple pie life.” But I know he couldn’t give me that even if he wanted to. His life was too fucked up for that. He was too fucked up for that.
I sigh, climbing into bed, and try to shut out my feelings.
“Rise and shine, Y/N.” I hear a man’s voicing saying from the doorway, a voice I immediately recognize. I groan, pulling the covers over my face.
“God, Dean, what time is it?” I croak out.
“Early. We gotta get out of here now if we want to be there by tonight.” He says, pulling the covers off my bed. I glare at him, looking at the clock on my nightstand.
“It’s four a.m. I want sleep.”
“Sleep in the car. You already know its comfortable back there.” He smirks, making me throw a pillow at him.
“I’ll be there in five minutes.”
I hurriedly get myself somewhat presentable, brushing my hair and teeth, and changing into regular clothes before grabbing my backpack and walking out the door. I walk past Claire’s room on the way, stopping and hugging her before I leave. I do this every time I leave for a hunt. I never know what could happen, and regardless of how annoyed she gets me, I love her.
I get to the impala, and notice that Sam isn’t there. I look at Dean, confused, but get into the passenger side of the car.
“He’s meeting us there.” Dean replies, pulling out of the driveway and taking off. I felt my phone buzz, and see a text from Claire.
‘Should I start sucking Sam’s dick so I can get invited on hunts, too?’
I ignore the text, shutting it off and putting it in my bag. I don’t get to see Dean often- I’m not letting her ruin it.
The road trip was quiet and uneventful. I slept almost the entire time, and when I wasn’t sleeping, I was reading, which made Dean laugh.
“Maybe you should be with Sammy instead, you nerd.” He would joke. Every few minutes, he would look over at me and smile, not thinking that I could see him.
Before I knew it, it was already almost ten at night and we still had another three hours left of driving. I thought that Dean would just keep driving it, seeing that it was only three hours and he did this for a living, but after a few minutes he pulls into some sketchy looking motel.
“Motel, huh?” I tease.
“Shut up,” He laughs. He goes inside to get a room key while I start getting stuff out of the impala. I giggle slightly when I see that he still has my socks sitting in the floor board of his car. When we had sex in his car that one time, I accidentally left my socks after I left. He tried to return them to me, but I told him to keep them as a good luck charm, completely joking. But he never got rid of them.
It’s something stupid to be all giggly about.
“Room six.” Dean comes up to me, helping grab stuff. I lay down on the bed, enjoying the feeling of comfort after a long day of being cooped up in a car.
“You comfortable?” He looks at me, smiling.
“I am, but I need a shower. I’m just trying to gather the energy to get up and walk there.” I groan, not wanting to have to get up. Dean chuckled, and walked over to the bed, picking me up like I was a feather.
“You’re light.” He comments.
“You’re just strong.” I tell him, and he sets me down in front of the bathroom. “You know, I might need help taking my clothes off, too.”
“I’m happy to help.” His eyes sparkle, his face filling with lust. He leans in, slowly kissing me at first. I pick up the pace, opening the door to the bathroom and taking us both in there. Dean slams the door shut, and hurriedly takes my shirt off, not breaking the kiss. His hands roam all over my back, until finally unhooking my bra and taking my breasts into his mouth. I moan at the sensation, leaning against the wall in delight. He stops to take off his clothes, and I begin taking off my jeans and thong.
“Y/N, you’re beautiful. I don’t know how I got you.” Dean says, turning on the shower.
“I could say the same to you, daddy.”
His eyes got darker. He pulls me hungrily into him, kissing me hard and pumping two fingers in and out of my clit, making me moan. We step into the shower, both of us almost gasping at how good the warm water felt.
“What do you want, babygirl?”
“I want you to fuck me, daddy. Fuck me hard.” I beg. He enters me slowly from behind before going at it hard and fast.
“Fuck, Y/N” Dean hisses, hearing me moan like that was driving him over the edge. I knew he had a slight daddy kink, but not like this.
“Oh, yes, daddy, I’m close.” I barely get out, panting. He speeds up, his breath ragged at well.
“Y/N?” I hear a voice outside of shower. I jumped away from Dean.
“Hello?” The same voice says again.
Oh. My. God.
My face drops as I recognize the voice. I poke my head out of the shower just to make sure.
“Uh, hi, Castiel.” I say guilty, hiding my body behind the curtain. Dean stays silent.
“I heard you calling out for your dad. Are you ok?”
“I’m, uh, I’m fine. Sorry. You can leave now.” I choke out. I don’t think he knows Dean is in here.
“Are you sure? I can stay-“
“Castiel, I am in the shower. Please leave.” I rush him. He looks at me oddly, but eventually poofs out of the room.
“Shit, that was close.” I let out a breath.
“I can’t believe he actually did that, oh my GOD. That’s hilarious.” Dean is cracking up.
“You wouldn’t be laughing so hard if he had actually caught us.” I shot at him.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. But he didn’t, that’s all that matters.” He pulls me towards him, kissing me.
“So, should we continue? This is our only night alone together, you know.” Dean makes a good point.
Otabek loved Yuri a lot, but his leg was really starting to get numb.
“How long has he been asleep like that?” Victor asked, amused. They were over at the penthouse that Chris had rented for the week, a raging party with the international skaters in full swing. Otabek and Yuri hadn’t even been drinking, both completely exhausted from practice. They had found an unused couch in the corner of the room and Yuri had collapsed, promptly falling asleep on Otabek’s lap.
“About an hour,” Otabek murmured fondly, stroking Yuri’s hair, “You’d think the pounding music and screaming would wake him up, but…”
Victor smiled. “He’s always been a heavy sleeper. Comes from growing up around a bunch of loud screaming Russians.”
Yuri shifted in his sleep, a hand moving to rest on Otabek’s leg. His heart thudded at the sight of his boyfriend looking so small and vulnerable, despite his age. Victor bade him a quiet ‘goodbye’ before heading off, leaving the two of them alone. Otabek was focused on Yuri’s steady breathing, how his hands curled in his sleep, how each strand of hair moved whenever he would shift.
He was the most beautiful thing Otabek had ever seen.
They had gotten together a few years back during Yuri’s nineteenth birthday. Afterwards, it was a shitstorm of media, ducking from Yuri’s fangirls, and a wild ride of traveling back and forth between Russia and Kazakhstan. Otabek knew how lucky he was to be with Yuri, it stunned him every day that his boyfriend loved him as much as he did.
Yuri shifted again, causing the numbness in his legs to get worse. Deciding it was probably time Yuri awoke, he leaned down and kissed his boyfriend’s forehead softly, leaning down towards his ear.
“Yura,” he murmured, “Yura, it’s time to get up.”
Yuri grumbled in protest, blinking blearily as the party raged around them. He yawned-Oh my god so cute, Otabek thought-and sat up, groaning as he dropped his head on Otabek’s shoulder.
“How do all these assholes have this much energy?” Yuri complained, “They practiced as hard as we did.”
“No one practices as hard as you do,” Otabek laughed, kissing the side of Yuri’s face, “You went for hours today.”
Yuri rolled his eyes, swinging his legs over Otabek’s lap. “Yeah, and I’m fucking exhausted. Why did we come to this again?”
Otabek smiled, kissing his forehead. “Because, someone who shall remain nameless, ‘wanted to fucking rage.’”
“You should stop listening to me,” Yuri laughed, leaning on Otabek’s chest, “Half the things I say are bullshit.”
Otabek’s heart thumped as Yuri pressed against him and he was reminded again just how much in love he was.
“Nothing you say is bullshit,” Otabek replied, “You could be reciting ‘The Theme of King JJ’ in French backwards and I’d listen to it.”
Yuri’s eyes narrowed. “Beka, you’re sweet, but if you want to be in our bed tonight, do not mention JJ in relation to me ever again.”
Otabek laughed, reaching down and drawing Yuri into a gentle kiss, a real kiss. They forgot for a moment that they were in public, both melting into the sensations.
“Boys, break it up!” Christophe called from the corner, causing them to pull apart reluctantly, “Let’s keep it PG!”
“‘Keep it PG,’ he says,” Yuri snorted, “He’s half naked and riding a pole.”
Otabek laughed lightly, still a little breathless from their kiss. “Maybe later tonight we can bump up the rating, yeah?”
Yuri raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit. “Beka, you’re on.”
Otabek’s legs were still numb from Yuri’s weight being pressed onto him. But he found as they got closer, that he didn’t really mind.
Waking up the morning of your birthday, you tried to keep your nerves in check. You expected pancakes and coffee in the least, but nothing too fancy. Instead, you found a quiet flat thanks to a very still asleep Harry. You didn’t blame him for that though, considering you had a pretty early class anyway. Who would want to get up at 6:30am willingly?
So you made your own coffee and dressed for school. You wouldn’t be on campus much today anyway, but more in the courthouse. Your professor was working a case, a very high profile case, and you had been asked to be his consulting student. You were very excited about it, but due to the nature of the case and the amount of thugs you were sure you’d encounter, you’d yet to tell Harry about it. He could get protective of this kind of thing, and you didn’t want to have to worry about his feelings and the case at the same time.
Harry was still asleep when you left, smoothing out your dress as you heels clicked down the hall on the way to the elevator. You’d get a ‘Happy Birthday’ text, you were sure. That at the very least.
Three portraits are discovered in a hidden cellar in Paris, all three dating back from the nineteenth century. What’s weird is that the man in the portraits looks an awful lot like Enjolras. What’s weirder is that the paintings are all signed “R.”
“Remind me why anyone would choose
to watch what is considered to be the worst movie in history?”
Enjolras sat on the couch and balanced
a huge bowl of popcorn on his lap. Courfeyrac’s picks for movie night
were usually more mainstream and understandable. Well. As
understandable as romantic comedies could be, but at least they
didn’t require much brain activity. At least it allowed Enjolras to
switch off his brain and shove handfuls of popcorn into his mouth
while wondering how heteronormativity and dumb misunderstandings had
become such crowd-pullers.
“That’s because it’s an
experience!” Courfeyrac argued, slumping on the couch next to
Enjolras and seriously compromising the balance of the popcorn bowl.
“As your best friend, I just can’t let you die a Room virgin!”
“What’s so great about it,
“Everything! The acting is so bad!
It’s like… You know how people say that if you let monkeys in a
room full of typewriters the monkey would eventually end up rewriting
Shakespeare? Well switch the monkeys with aliens who only have a
vague idea of how human interactions work and you’ve got The Room!
It’s flipping fantastic!”
Enjolras shrugged. The enjoyment of
intrinsically bad media was beyond him.
“There are some really interesting
studies about trash movies and their ironical audience, actually,”
Combeferre chimed in as he joined them in the living room. He brought
heavy-looking pizza plates that he settled on the coffee table before
settling next to Courfeyrac. “Something about collectively
liking something so bad that it gets good.”
exclaimed, triumphant. “So sit back and brace yourself for this
He switched on the TV and started
rummaging through the pile of DVDs to find the right one.
Automatically, the first channel popped up on screen. The news were
still on and a generic news anchor looked at the three of them in the
“Wait,” Enjolras said before
Courfeyrac could switch on the DVD player.
“And tonight we come back on an
incredible discovering in Paris earlier today,” the news
anchor announced, “when three paintings were discovered in a
cellar in the Latin Quarter. The three works of art allegedly
date back from the nineteenth century and predate the Haussmanian
renovations of the capital. For more on this story, we go to Olivier
Barron in the Latin Quarter, Olivier?”
The three paintings
appeared on screen. Silence fell on the living room, leaving nothing
but the artificial chatter of the television. In his seat, Enjolras
turned to stone.
already rushed to title the works names such as ‘Apollo in Red’-”
That jaw line. That
nose. The same eye colour. Enjolras’ throat tightened. A cold shiver
ran down his spine.
Peter was more exhausted than he had been in weeks. He had been so good about sleep lately–he had even made a schedule to keep himself from having another falling-asleep-during-an-acid-lab incident–but this week had decided to be a serious dick to him.
So he found it perfectly understandable to skip his last class of the day (which was advanced mechanical engineering, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t catch up later) in favor of going home and napping. Because he had almost used his phone as a coffee stirrer an hour ago, and that seemed to make it clear the coffee wouldn’t really cover only having six hours of sleep in the past two nights combined.
Peter yawned for about the millionth time that day and scrubbed a hand over his face as he walked up to his apartment door. He started to lazily pat at his pockets for his keys with his other hand–and came up empty.
He frowned and patted himself down again. No jingle. No pointy key-ends. Frowning harder, he dropped his backpack and started to paw through it, even though he rarely kept his keys anywhere but his pockets (they’d been stolen from his backpack once and he still wasn’t over it). Unsurprisingly and unfortunately, he came up with nothing.
Peter briefly felt the urge to cry. All he wanted was a nap. He thought back through his day. He didn’t take them out when he was in the coffee shop–he didn’t even sit down. From what he could recall, he didn’t take them out in class either (because why would he?). Which left him with one, horribly stupid option–they were still sitting on his kitchen counter.
Inside his apartment. Because he was an idiot.
“Great. Perfect. Nice. Fuck this.” he snapped at the door.
Despite being a functional adult who could deal with this problem in a rational way, Peter was very tired. So he did a rather petty thing and kicked his door, hard.
Crying was seeming like an increasingly appealing option. Peter’s landlord already didn’t like him. He didn’t need to give him another reason to think he was a bad tenant (which, to be fair, he was, because with his superhero agenda–and his superhero friends–his apartment had been through a lot) by saying he’d lost his keys…again.
Peter sighed and sat down, leaning against his door and throwing his backpack next to him. He honestly didn’t think he had the energy to suit up and climb up to his window. He wasn’t even sure he would be able to find his window.
But he still needed to get in his apartment. Maybe he could magically learn how to pick locks without any effort. Or he could see if any of his neighbors would pick his lock for him–
Wait. I know someone who can pick locks.
Peter was both suddenly grateful and suddenly dreading what he knew he had to do. He sighed very hard and pulled out his phone and for the first time EVER dialed a number he never thought he would need to.
After two rings, he got an answer.
“Deadpool speaking.” Wade’s voice growled at him.
“Wade? It’s–Spider-man.” Peter awkwardly finished, almost just saying ‘Peter’.
The change in Wade’s tone was instant. “Yo, Spidey!” he screeched.
Peter winced and immediately regretted his decision. “Hi, Wade. I need a favor.”
“…Is it a murder-y favor? Because I’ve been trying not to do that so much and–”
“It’s not a job, Wade. I’m locked out of my apartment and I need you to pick my lock.”
There was a pause, and Peter swears he heard a snicker. “Did you web your keys to the wall or something?” Wade joked, then started to poorly cover up a laugh.
“I’m hanging up.” Peter snapped, and started to.
“Wait, wait!” Wade shouted, and Peter didn’t hang up. “I’ll help you, Spidey. Can you text me the address?”
“Yeah. Please show up before I have to sleep in my hallway.” Peter requested, then hung up. He typed out his address and sent it to Wade, who responded with a thumbs-up emoji, a winking-tongue-face emoji that Peter never understood, and informed him he’d be there in fifteen minutes.
Peter sighed and pulled out his Spider-man mask from his backpack. He really didn’t want to put it on, but Wade didn’t know his identity and Peter didn’t really think trusting him with it was a good idea.
Then again, he had just given him his address. That was almost worse, in a way. Wade was unarguably the most unstable man he knew, and he was coming over to pick Peter’s lock for him.
Peter briefly wondered if this was how he was destined to die. Not by some super-villain, but by letting a crazy person know his address.
I’m literally letting an axe-murderer into my house. Oh my god, this is how I die.
Peter was still busy imaging scenarios of Wade brutally murdering him when Wade showed up and raised an eyebrow at Peter’s sad scene. He was wearing jeans and a hoodie, which was surprising, though he still had both his mask and gloves on.
“Spidey?” he asked, then it clicked why Wade was looking at him funny.
Peter had forgotten to ever put his mask on.
“Uh, yeah. Hi, Wade.”
Wade suddenly slapped a hand over his eyes. “You forgot your mask.”
Peter sighed. “I guess I did. But I also gave you my address, so I figured if you were gonna murder me I couldn’t stop you.”
“Never mind. I’m tired. Please break into my apartment so I can sleep.” Peter said, gesturing at the door handle by his head.
Wade chuckled and walked over. He knelt down next to Peter and started to work on the lock with a bunch of tools that looked like torture devices. “So, not that I’m complaining, but why did you call me for this? You’ve never even used my number before.”
“Long story short, my landlord hates me already and everyone else would never let me live down leaving my keys in my apartment and not realizing it until now.”
“That’s fair.” Wade shrugged, then the door made a click and Wade turned the handle, and to Peter’s sleepy amazement, it opened. “Ta-da. All better.”
Peter gaped at how fast Wade had done that. After a second of chuckling at him, Wade offered him a hand. Peter took it and was heaved to his feet. He grabbed his backpack and entered, expecting Wade to follow.
But he didn’t. Wade stayed in the doorway, rocking back and forth on his feet.
Peter turned back and looked at him. He looked like a lost puppy. Well, a lost puppy who was trying to see as much as he possibly could from a doorway. Peter sighed. “Just come in.”
Wade giggled and ran in, immediately going everywhere. “I’m in Spider-man’s apartment!”
Peter slowly followed him, eventually ended up in his bedroom, where Wade was fiddling with things on his desk. “Don’t break anything.” he ordered, then promptly collapsed onto his bed face-down.
After a moment, he felt a weight on the other side of the bed. “Aw, is Spidey sleepy?” Wade cooed.
“Fuck off.” Peter snapped, and Wade laughed.
“That’s fair. I like your apartment, by the way. Tasteful.”
Peter snorted. “Does it accurately show off my college student budget?”
“Impeccably.” Wade said, flopping down on the bed next to him. “Dude, how old is this mattress?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it witnessed JFK’s murder, to be honest.”
Wade laughed, then they fell into silence. Peter was honestly half-asleep before Wade broke the silence again, and even then he didn’t really wake up. “Should I go?”
“Hmm?” Peter asked, turning to look at him.
“Should I leave? You seem about two seconds away from hibernation.”
Peter shrugged. “Probably. I’m gonna sleep for about fifty hours now.”
Wade smiled at him and sat up. “That’s fair. See you on your next patrol?”
“Considering you know where I live, I don’t think I can stop you from showing up to all of them.”
“Probably not. Sleep well, Spidey.”
Peter just hummed an answer and snuggled deeper into his pillow, listening to Wade’s footsteps get fainter–then get louder again.
Wade poked his head back into Peter’s room. “For the record, I like your face.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Go home, Wade.”
“It’s a nice face. Excellent face. That hair is killer. Do you condition?”
“Right, right. I’m going. Call me if you need a number for an actual locksmith, baby boy.” Wade chuckled, then left for real.
Peter threw his cover onto himself, rolled over into the spot Wade had made surprisingly warm in his short time there, and slept better than he had in what felt like years.
Hi! This is just an idea if your interested, can you do a Phan smut where dan and Phil are best friends and had grown up together and one night ( they're both 17 or 18 or something ) phil calls dan and starts out really awkwardly initiating phone sex like " what are you wearing " and they're both kind of giggling in the beginning but then it kind of gets more serious and phil kind of just describes how he would fuck dan until they cum..? This would be rly great 👌👌
1123 words of regret
Phil smiled when his phone rang, rolling his eyes and reaching over to his bedside table to grab it. He knew who it was before he even looked.
Dan, his best friend of seven years, was calling him. He did this every night, since Phil left their home town to go to a private school about an hour drive away. Dan insisted on staying, fancy boarding school wasn’t for him, he didn’t want the stress, but it didn’t stop him from missing his best friend.
“Hi,” Phil muttered into the phone, slightly breathlessly, flopping back on his bed. He could hear Dan smile.
“Hey Phil,” he answered, and Phil could tell he was relaxing. That happened for him too; just hearing Dan’s voice helped him release the stress of the day.
“How was your day?” The other boy asked through the phone, his voice soft.
“Oh, it was alright,” Phil muttered, sighing and running his fingers through his already messy hair. “I have a lot of homework, believe me.”
“I can imagine,” Dan chuckled.
“Still going to those parties?”
“Yeah… I’ve got nothing better to do since you’re gone.”
“Christ, Dan, you can’t keep throwing your time away like this. You have potential for so much more.”
“Because I believe it.” Phil stretched his arm above his head, spreading out on the bed to get more comfortable. “Sorry, just… I’m worried about you.”
“I know.” Dan took a deep breath, and went quiet. It was moments like these when Phil wished he was there, laying next to him, listening to him breathe. Maybe he was just being clingy.
“So…” Dan started in a lighter tone, breathing out a laugh. “What are you wearing, Lester?” He asked in mock seduction.
Phil rolled his eyes, slapping his hand over his forehead.
“We’re doing this, are we?”
“Why not?” Dan laughed. “You scared?”
Phil snorted. “Of what, your fashion judging abilities?”
“Just answer the question, dingus.”
“Hmm,” Phil hummed, looking down at himself. “Just blue boxers, at the moment. And a red button up.”
Dan tsked. “Not matching? I thought you were better than this, Phil.“
"Who are you, the fashion police?” He grumbled, and laughed. “Leave me alone, Dan, I can dress myself how I’d like.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever.”
“What are you wearing, then?” Phil asked in an attempt at a seductive tone.
Dan chuckled breathily. “Nothing.”
“Yeah? Pic or it didn’t happen.”
Dan giggled. “You want a picture?”
“Kinda,” Phil muttered under his breath. He had seen Dan naked before, it wasn’t a big deal, and it comforted him that they were close enough to talk like this without it being uncomfortable.
“Oh, is Phil admitting his true feelings after all these years?” Dan asked teasingly, and Phil could hear him shift on the bed.
“Shut up, Howell. Don’t push it.”
“Or… what?” Dan hummed. “You’ll… punish me?”
The tone in Dan’s voice had changed, and it shocked through Phil’s stomach like lightning.
“Why? Am I turning you on?” Phil could almost hear Dan’s dumb smirk. “I bet you’re so hard right now, just from my voice.”
“I bet you wanna fuck me right now, hm?” He asked slowly, and Phil didn’t hear the tell tale signs that he was joking in his tone anymore. He sounded serious. “I bet you’d love to pin me to your bed and make me beg right about now…” shit. Something in Phil snapped.
“Daniel.” Phil growled. “God, I forgot what a brat you are. If I was there and you were talking like this I’d already have you against the wall, screaming.”
There was silence from the other side of the moment, just breathing.
“…Well, shit,” Dan muttered, his breath hitching. “Damn, Phil.” He paused. “…If y-you were here, what would you d-do..? For real.”
Now Phil was smirking, and he found himself reaching down to adjust his boxers, as suddenly they were a bit uncomfortable.
“I think I just answered that,” Phil breathed. “I’d have you on your back in seconds, begging for me. Begging for my cock.” Phil hummed, rubbing gently at his bulge through the cloth. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you, Daniel?”
“Hell yes,” Dan breathed back. “Fuck, I’d moan so loud for you.”
That went straight to Phil’s dick, and he tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them over his hard on and sliding them down his hips. He shuddered, brushing his fingertips over his length. He heard a whimper through the phone.
“Are you touching yourself?” Phil muttered, wrapping a hand around his cock. “Touching yourself to the sound of my voice like a slut?”
He was too far now, letting out a groan as his thumb swiped over his slit.
“Y-Yes…” Dan muttered. “Fuck, Phil, keep talking…”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, being filled up by my cock… I bet you’d love to ride me, grinding down on me like such a good boy…”
Dan whined loudly, and Phil’s eyes widened. He sounded like an angel, why hadn’t they done this before? It felt wrong, jerking himself off to his best friends moans, but he honestly didn’t care.
“I bet you’re so pretty like that, baby, you sound like a bloody angel. God, I wanna fuck you so hard.” Phil was just babbling now, letting soft groans and whimpers slip from his lips, his breathing ragged.
“Jesus, P-Phil…” Dan gasped, his voice breaking and Jesus fuck he sounded so beautiful.
“I’m c-close…” Phil breathed, throwing his head back and biting down on his bottom lip to keep from letting out an embarrassing noise.
“Me too, fuck.”
Phil tried to imagine how Dan looked at this moment, his hair messy and his hips jerking up to meet his hand, his eyes glassy and fucked out. Jesus.
“God, moan for me Dan, fuckfuckfuck you’d look so gorgeous with my cum all over your pretty face…”
“Ah-!” Dan moaned loudly, turning into a whine and getting high pitched and broken at the end, and it sent Phil over the edge. He jerked one more time, groaning and coming all over his shirt.
They were quiet for a solid minute, but Phil could hear Dan’s ragged breathing, and holy shit, he probably looked so beautiful.
“That’s not weird, is it?” Dan asked finally, the laughter back to his voice. “Getting off to your friends voice?”
“Nah,” Phil answered, chuckling and running his fingers through his hair.
“I should probably… clean this up…” Dan muttered, and Phil could almost see him blushing. He grinned.
“Yeah, me too…” he paused. “Dan?”
“I miss you.” He breathed. Breathy laughter echoed from the phone.
I’ve been working on this fic for like ever. and I never finished it. And tonight decided to. The *smutty* part isnt that good but whatever. I did it.
You x Jackson Wang (GOT7)
Feat best friend Bam Bam (non-sexual friendship)
*Disclaimer*: If you dont like smut dont read it. Just dont do it.
“You didn’t have to pay for my flight! What the hell Bam!”
You yelled on the phone with your best friend Bam Bam. You had discovered a notification in your email
that your round trip to Thailand was booked. Only you didn’t book anything yet.
“Just think of it as a late birthday present,” He said
laughing.” “I can afford it love.”
“Yeah but you know I’ve been saving up to come to Thailand!
I got the money silly.”
“Use it to go shopping!” He said, chuckling in the
phone. You hated when Bam Bam paid for
you. Especially because you work. Sure
he was your best friend and an idol, but you didn’t want to use him for his
money. Your eyes rolled. You wanted to make it up to him but had no idea how.
The boy had everything. He was the fashion king so you couldn’t buy him a new
outfit. He’s already ahead of the fashion game.