Request: Sebastian michaelis taking care of his sick S/O. His S/O has a special ability to turn herself into a neko baby-chibi like form for a short time per month. You know cute cat ears, a tail, paws instead palms, big eyes... But because of the cold she caught she changes between her normal and neko baby form a lot. So our demon has to take care betwen his sweet love and a grumpy yet extremely adorable baby. @faioula16
Sebastian x reader // gender neutral reader
Lucky for you, Sebastian loves cats. Part of him even enjoys you being sick, because he gets to see your neko form. He'd never admit it, though.
When he brings you food, usually a soup of some sort, it's in a pastel cat dish with your name engraved in gold. You love it, he thinks it's adorable.
He is constantly petting you, squishing your paws (gently), rubbing your ears, and babying you while you're in neko form. You find it a tad annoying, but Sebastian does not care.
"Aw, is my little baby tired? You need rest to feel better, kitten."
Usually will say that in a condescending tone, he loves knowing you're helpless, that he is who you are depending on for even the most basic tasks.
Sebastian will go out of his way to buy you a collar, the words, '(y/n), property of Sebastian' engraved, along with a silver bell.
Did I mention how he absolutely spoils you? Anything you want, he gets it. You are his precious kitten after all, how could he say no to those eyes of yours?
"Spit it out, baby. I can't help if you can't communicate what it is you need," Sebastian said, a sadistic glow in his eyes.
The constant transformations were exhausting and hard on your body, so occasionally it was hard for you to speak.
Your throat was dry and you could barely keep your eyes open, "Wa..water?"
It was quiet, but the demon heard it perfectly fine.
"You want water?" He repeated, tilting his head. The corners of his mouth were upturned.
With a nod of your head, the Butler left to grant you your request of water, It was the least he could do.
I’m super sorry that I post so rarely these days but I just started my apprenticeship and am super busy .-. I’ll try to participate in @yandere-sins Horrortober this year though :) Check her out. She’s an awesome writer
Now, this is a Yan!Hawks x Reader Oneshot. It’s not that good, I think, but I’ve written worse so, well...
“Isn’t it strange how fast things are able to change?” He circled you like a vulture its prey. It freaked you out yet you tried your best to at least seem calm.
“Just take the sea, for example. In one moment it’s peaceful, in the next it’s wild and dangerous.”
He abruptly stopped behind you and even if you had been able to turn and look at him, you wouldn’t have. This was no longer the same person. Not the hero you once adored, nor the man you had loved.
Maybe he was right. Things change fast.
You tensed unintentionally when you felt his breath in your neck.
“We will never change though, isn’t that right, my love?”
Oh, how you’d have loved to answer him. Scream at him. Tell him exactly what you were thinking … but you couldn’t.
“I’m so sorry I had to gag you, but you would have said words that you’d come to regret later. It’s only for the best, darling.” He buried his face in your neck and mumbled something you couldn’t understand. You just sat there - stiff as a stick in your restraints - and hoped he’d leave you alone soon. Maybe he would die on the job. Well, that would mean you’d die as well, but that couldn’t be any worse than … this.
It seemed like an eternity until he finally decided that it was enough, stood up again and - caressing your wing - moved to stand in front of you, smiling brightly.
How you had loved that smile. Now it gives you goosebumps.
“Things really change fast, love. Like us. Just a week ago the papers were writing about ‘Hawks and his girlfriend - the picture perfect couple’. Do you want to know what they wrote today?”
You shook your head no. It didn’t seem to bother him though, actually, his smile only got brighter.
“They wrote ‘Nr. 2 and his beautiful Angel to be wed’! They think it’s gonna be the wedding of the century. The whole country is looking forward to it.”
His smile suddenly turned dark and every word was like a knife to your heart:
You were laying on the couch with your eyes closed, with one of your arms over your eyes to block out the light, although all that was doing was causing a headache, you hear the front door open and close before hearing footsteps approaching the couch, a familiar scent quickly fills your nose as you hear the footsteps stop next to you, you could hear loud breathing next to you and decided it was time to lift your arm away from your face, you turn your head only to be met by Inseong’s smiling face looking at you.
“Hi, love, tired?” He asks, you nod your head as you lay your arm over your stomach, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you do.
“It felt like a really long day.” You say. “Like it’ll never end.” He nods his head before leaning closer to you, he quickly plants a cheek on your nose before standing upright.
“I’ll be right back to get you.” He says, you sit upright on the couch as you watch him disappear down the hallway to your shared bedroom, your brows furrow in confusion, but you stayed on the couch, waiting for him to return, which felt a little longer than usual, you lay back against the backrest of the couch, your eyes slowly closing for a moment. “Y/n!” Your eyes immediately open and saw his head poking out from the bedroom door. “Come here.” You felt absolutely drained and almost whined for him to come to get you from the couch, but you gathered all your strength and stood from the couch and made your way to the bedroom, he smiles and takes your hand, leading you to the bathroom, where you heard the water running, once he had led you inside you could see the foam building up in the bathtub.
“Inseong…” You whisper, you felt touched by this gesture, you turn around towards him only for him to stop you.
“Uh, uh, let me undress you and then join you in that tub.” He says, his hands were at the hem of your shirt, lifting it upwards, you lift your arms letting him remove it, he tosses it into the laundry basket. “We both need to relax, and what better way than doing that by sitting naked in the bath with each other?”
“Is this just a trick to get me naked?” You ask, you feel him unclasp your bra before feeling his lips against your ear.
“Maybe.” He whispers, his fingers curl around your bra straps, he quickly removes it and tosses it towards the laundry basket, he turns you around to face him, his hands moving to the band of your pants, quickly curling his fingers around the band of them before pushing them down along with your underwear, you step out of them once they pool around your ankles. “Okay, pretty.” He leans closer, and kisses your cheek before kissing the other cheek, making you giggle. “Into the tub, you go.” He bends down and picks up your pants and underwear, putting them into the laundry basket, you turn around and step into the tub, he quickly gets rid of his clothes before joining you, his arms instantly wrapping around you from behind, one of his hands resting against the inside of your thigh while his other hand was resting against your hip, you sat in that position for what seemed like hours, but was only fifteen minutes before you felt him shifting around behind you, his hand disappearing from your inner thigh."What?" You softly ask. "What's wrong?" You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. "Are you uncomfortable?""No, no, no." He says. "Just trying to reach the soap and washcloth." You look towards the soap bottle and lean forward, easily taking it, you hand it to him before getting the washcloth."Ask, next time." You say, you lay back against him, feeling his body move as he squeezed some soap onto the washcloth, moments later you felt the cloth touch your skin and move over you. "Hmm, Inseong..." Your eyes falling close as he washes you, you lean forward, letting him wash your back. "How am I going to repay for this?" You open your eyes as an idea pops into your head, you quickly turn around, the water and foam spilling over the tub and onto the tiled floor, you straddle his thighs and took the cloth from him. "Let me wash you." You begin at his shoulders before he grabbed your wrist, stopping you, you look up at him and into his brown eyes."You don't have to... it seems like you had a rough day." He softly says, you lean forward, pressing the washcloth against his shoulder."You're so sweet..." You whisper. "Can I keep you?"“You already have me, honey.” He says, a soft smile stretches across your lips.“I meant forever.” You say.“Oh, forever, huh?” He asks, he leans closer to you, his lips almost touching yours. "Then have me, forever." You release the washcloth and move both your hands to the side of his neck and lean closer, your lips brush against his, tasting him, his hands move to your hips, his thumbs tracing circles on your skin as the kiss quickly became heated.
walking shelter dogs together and dreaming of finally getting their own
Warnings: cute dogs and fluff
- - -
“Are you ready to go?” Paulo asked, grabbing the bag of supplies he kept by the door.
“One second!” You called back, lacing up your trainers and jogging over to him. “Ready.”
Paulo slung an arm around your shoulder as the two of you headed out to the car, eager to get to your monthly dog shelter volunteering job.
It had started as a date idea of Paulo’s back when the two of you had first started dating, but both of you ended up loving it so much you both mutually decided to keep going back at least once a month to walk the dogs. When Paulo broke up with his last girlfriend before you, she had taken the dogs and you knew how much it had broken his heart now that he didn’t get to see them.
You were slowly broaching the topic of getting a dog with him but you weren’t sure how open he was to that idea. Sure, the two of you talked about it every month but you only seemed to discuss it during the shelter days, shelving the conversation for another four weeks each time.
Paulo walked into the shelter first, you following close behind. The two of you greeted the staff, signing in at the volunteer section and putting on your nametags. Paulo took a few selfies and signed a few things for some of the other volunteers who recognized him - and for some of the new staff that had started in the last month - before both of you headed to the dog section of the shelter.
The dogs started barking and wagging their tails, instantly recognizing the two of you. Paulo cooed to them in Italian, pressing his hands and face against the cages, letting them all sniff and lick at him. You did the same, greeting all the dogs by name, noticing the new ones and seeing which ones had been adopted in the last month.
“Hi, Kaia,” Paulo murmured, unlocking one of the cages and reaching in for the Husky puppy. “I’ve missed you.”
The puppy placed her paws on Paulo’s chest, licking his face. You watched your boyfriend giggle and pet the dog, clipping the leash onto her and setting her on the ground. You grabbed your own dog from its cage and did the same, you and Paulo heading out on the predetermined route.
“Do you ever think you’ll adopt another dog? You asked absentmindedly, the question slipping past your lips before you could stop it.
“I’d love to, I just don’t know if we’ll have enough time to take care of it,” was Paulo’s response. It was the same one he’d been giving every time, but there was something in his voice that had you hopeful.
“I think we would,” you mused, ideas flowing from your thoughts to your mouth. These were things you’d been thinking about and you wanted to let Paulo know that the two of you could do it. “We’ve both owned dogs before - we know what goes into it - and I think we’d be good at it. Sure, there would be an adjustment period, but we would be able to manage it. Maybe we wait and think about it seriously over the next few months and decide once the season ends?”
Paulo gave you a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the action. “That sounds perfect.”
Your good mood continued as both of you walked a few more dogs, discussing potential breeds and names among other things. Both of you were all smiles after your day at the dog shelter, excited for all the possibilities to come.
#my writing: paulo dybala #requests: paulo dybala #paulo dybala fluff #paulo dybala x reader #paulo dybala imagine #paulo dybala imagines #paulo dybala blurb #paulo dybala blurbs #paulo dybala oneshot #paulo dybala one shot
A/N: My first Chen writing to celebrate his birthday :)
You had been waiting outside your building for Chen for nearly 10 minutes. He had promised to meet you here for date night, but you were starting to think you might just give up and go back in. No sooner had thought crossed your mind, someone snuck up beside you and placed a quick kiss on your cheek.
You jumped slightly as you looked round and found Chen grinning at you.
"Where have you been?" you asked, trying to be stern, but failing miserably when you couldn't help but smile back.
"Does it matter? I'm here now," he replied, pulling you in for a proper kiss before you could respond.
"You're lucky you're cute," you told him, squeezing his cheek.
He grabbed your hand away from his face and laced his fingers through yours so you could walk to the restaurant hand-in-hand.
"Honestly, I just took longer getting ready than I'd planned for," he explained as the two off you headed off. "I wanted to make sure I was looking my best for you."
"You always look amazing."
"So do you. Especially right now."
"Thanks, I put a lot of effort in too," you said, doing a little pose and making him laugh.
With your hand still in his, he pulled you close again and bringing your hand to his lips pressing a quick kiss to the back of it.
Synopsis: Heeseung takes care of Aera when you’re too exhausted to do so.
Format/Genres: Drabble, Fluff, Mild Angst, Domestic AU, Dad AU, Established Relationship AU, Aged Up AU, Dad!Husband!Heeseung, Mom!Wife!Reader
Taglist: @softiedaph - Send me an ask to be added
A/N: I’ve Been thinking about Dad! Heeseung lately, so I wrote this instead of doing my homework... yikes. Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this! Thank you to @choihaiyun for beta reading this and help me choose a title!
The crying sound of your newborn baby, Aera, woke you up from your deep slumber as you rubbed your eyes open, trying your best to keep yourself awake despite the tiredness that you felt.
You heaved a yawn and walked over to your daughter’s crib but immediately stopped once you felt a stranger’s hand grasp your waist, now back hugging you.
The supposed stranger placed his head on your shoulder, giving your neck little kisses as he spoke. “Go back to sleep, baby. I know you’re exhausted. I can take care of Aera, I promise.”
And as much as you wanted to protest to your husband - to tell him that you’re more than okay and that you could handle the task of taking care of your daughter, Aera, given the circumstances - you were very, very tired to have the energy to do so.
So you just settled to ask Heeseung. “Are you sure you can handle taking care of Aera? She is surely one heck of an energetic child, and I don't want you to have problems the next day.”
Your husband just chuckled in reply, looking at you like a lovestruck fool as he gently rocked the baby. “Don't worry, angel. I can take care of your daughter the same way you do. Besides, you have work tomorrow at 6 AM, remember? It’s already 12:17 AM. Take a rest, angel, and I’ll join you once I finish.”
#tom holland reader #tom holland request #tom holland blurb #tom holland oneshot #tom holland one shot #tom holland au #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x plus size reader #tom holland #tom holland x y/n
Microfic sentence given by @hopeless-romanticsclub | TW- ANGST
Ashes and dust raised in the sky like a hot steam emerging from a hot stew, the whole Hogwarts was getting dismantled, turning into fragments and perhaps them too in their little stolen moment for 3 minutes. Harry was walking towards the forbidden forest when draco had followed him and asked him for just 3 minutes. He rested their foreheads together, their fingers intertwined against harry's chest and the large droplets of tears had made draco's collar wet.
" I have to go draco " harry had said.
Draco nodded but didn't loosen his fingers with those of Harry's. He couldn't even if he wanted to.
" I don't want you to " draco choked on his sobs.
" But I have to " harry replied closing his eyes and for one last moment enjoying the cradling warmth. He couldn't tell him that he's walking to death, that it was the only way but somewhere harry knew draco knew and perhaps that's why this was so hard. That's why letting go seemed so hard even for him.
" Just one more minute " draco sobbed. Harry bought his hands into his hair, holding him by the back of his neck in a soft touch, their eyes closed, little drops of tears rubbing down their faces. It was intimacy in its way.
" Perhaps in some distant reality, our love would not be so battle worn " harry whispered, softly.
" In some distant reality, you and I will always be together. We'd have our forever till infinity " draco whispered back, a little smile curling at the corner of his lips to just imagine the other two of their versions being happy.
" I need to go " harry said after a while. Draco nodded and in one last moment, kissed harry for one last time, promising him a forever. Harry kissed him back in all the forever he couldn't give him and then he ran away.
Luna woke up from a massive headache for an unknown reason. She looked around the place where she is right now. She knows for sure that the room was not hers because it looks masculine for her to have it. The door was suddenly opened and she had eye contact with a handsome man. The guy cleared his throat and mumbled a small good morning.
“Good morning…?” Luna said sounding so unsure.
“How are you feeling right now?” the guy asked her.
“A little bit dizzy, but I’m good.” She answered softly. And the guy nodded in response.
Few minutes have passed, the boy was seated on the reclining chair beside the bed while Luna was still on the bed and kept on fidgeting her fingers because of the awkward silence. She had a lot of questions in her mind, so she took the courage to break the silence.
“Hey, do you mind telling me your name?” She mentally faced palmed as she thought her question came out rude.
“My name is Soobin. Choi Soobin.” He stated while smiling showing off the dimples on his cheeks.
“Nice to meet you Soobin! My name is--.”
“Luna, Lee Luna right?” Soobin cuts off the introduction of Luna.
Luna looked at him shocked, wondering how did he know her name while it’s their first time meeting.
“H-how did y-you know my name?” She stuttered out.
Soobin pointed at her left chest area and Luna looked at it as she saw her name tag pinned on her shirt. She then awkwardly scratch her nape out of shame. It took a few seconds to regain her composure and ask another question.
“How did I even ended up here? At your house?”
“Well, I saw you passed out in front of my house. Even I was surprised to see you there, so I took you to my room to let you rest. I wouldn’t leave you out there freezing and completely knocked out.” He explained slowly so she would understand what happened.
Luna quickly stand up and fixed herself deciding not to spend any time longer because it’s embarrassing for her.
“Well, I should get going thank you for letting me stay for the night.” She said and bowed a little out of respect.
“In that case, I’ll take you home,” Soobin suggested.
Luna refused his suggestion but Soobin keep on insisting on it, making her give in to the suggestion. He asked her where she live and she gave him her address and they made their way to Luna’s house. When they reached their destination, Luna refused to believe what’s in front of them. The place that she called her home was now burnt down into ashes. She broke down into tears not knowing where to go while Soobin comforted her.
After few minutes, Luna stopped crying and silence took over them again, but this time it was a comforting silence. Soobin cupped Luna’s face and encouraged her to stay with him.
“What about your parents? Won’t they be mad if I stay?” Luna asked in a hushed tone.
“It’s no problem, I live alone anyways,” Soobin said.
Luna thinks about it for a minute, knowing that she doesn’t have any other place to come to. She doesn’t have any relatives even a friend.
She finally accepts it has no other choice.
"Is it fine with you though? I don't wanna be a burden." she lowered her head in shame.
"It's fine with me, it'll be great to have someone with me." Soobin cleared up the worries that Luna have.
“Alright, thank you for having me!” Luna bowed for a second and beamed a smile at Soobin, making his heart melt.
A few months later, Soobin and Luna got closer and known each other very well. But there’s this feeling in Luna that their days wouldn’t be happy as they are always.
“Hey, Luna! Ready to go?” Soobin asked her, entering the room that he gave to her.
“Yep! In a minute and I’ll be done.” Luna said while looking for her necklace.
“Alright, I’ll be waiting inside the car!” Soobin shouted as he was making he was outside.
Luna closed the door as she stepped out of their house making sure it was locked properly. She made her way to the car and got in. She puts on her seatbelt and glanced at Soobin.
“Ready?” Soobin asked her excitedly.
“Ready!” Luna replied enthusiastically.
When they arrived at the fast-food chain that they always go to, Luna immediately rushed inside not hearing Soobin asking her to wait for him. He just shrugged it off and made his way to the place. Once he got inside, he spotted Luna at their regular spot patiently waiting for him to order their food. In amusement, Soobin chuckled and shook his head as he made his way to order their food. When he reached their table he told her that they need to wait for their order to come and Luna nodded eagerly. While they’re waiting, Luna asked something about Soobin.
“Psst! Soobin I have a question.” Soobin turned his head to Luna and asked what it is.
“What will you do if this is the last day that we have?” Luna asked curiously.
Soobin was definitely taken aback by the question as he had been silent for a few minutes. He cleared his throat before answering for Luna not to notice the sad tone in his voice.
“I’ll make it the most memorable day for you, for us I mean.” He somewhat showed a half-smile to her as he really didn’t expect her to ask questions like that. Luna nodded in response and looked anywhere not meeting his eyes as she was tearing up. Their order was served by a crew that’s not familiar with them, guessing he was new there. They ate in silence for a moment when suddenly Soobin suggested something.
“Hey, wanna do something crazy?” Soobin asked with a playful smile.
“What would it be?” Luna asked in a playful manner.
Soobin suddenly throws fries at Luna making her surprised. Luna smiled evilly, mentally accepting Soobin’s idea. They both played until the new crew told them to stop messing around. And they suddenly sit still and laughed silently. Soobin nudged at Luna to look at him. He was holding a tablespoon full of ketchup and it was pointing at the crew. Luna shook her head disagreeing with his idea.
“Oh no, you don’t! You’re gonna have us kicked out of here!” She frantically said while waving her hand dismissively.
“Oh yes! That’s what I’m really trying to do.” As soon as Soobin finished his sentence, he let go of the spoon making it hit the crew’s head. Luna laughed loudly not able to stop it anymore. The crew looked at the two furiously and the two looked at each other clearly they are in trouble.
“Come here you two!” The crew angrily stated going straight to their table.
“Luna come on!” Soobin exclaimed and suddenly dragged her out of the restaurant and ran, while the crew was trailing behind them.
“Wait, we passed our car!” Luna exclaimed running out of breath.
“Too late for that!” Soobin said while they still continue to run. He spotted a pickup truck and ran there. He hopped in there and lend a hand to Luna. “Hop in quick!”
Luna hold onto Soobin’s hand and got in the pickup truck and they both hid there for a moment. When the crew passed the truck, they looked at each other and laughed.
“You really did make our day memorable,” Luna stated.
“Just for you Luna, just for you,” Soobin whispered.
Few minutes of silence Soobin suddenly hugged Luna tightly. Luna was shocked but hugged back.
“Hey Luna,” Soobin said softly. Luna just hummed in response.
“I’m going to miss you for sure if ever this will be the last time that we’ll have,” Soobin confessed.
“I’ll miss you too Soobin, thank you for everything,” Luna spoke slowly as sleepiness was taking over her.
The ring of the alarm clock was heard in Luna’s heard. As she opened her eyes, the ceiling that she was facing right now was the one she had at her old home. So she sat up abruptly and looked around her room. She went in front of the mirror and saw her hair was back to being short hair and dull color.
song inspo: Janelle Monae - Make Me Feel, Damon Daunno & Rebecca Naomi Jones - People Will Say We're In Love, Tom Waits - Midnight Lullaby, James Vincent McMorrow - One Thousand Times, Taylor Swift - False God
notes: finally coming out of my writer's block with this one woohoo! i've been working on this since may, like that's insane??? im pretty happy with how it turns out lol. big thanks to @shipping-not-sailing and @tommysparker who put up with my bullshit brainstorm, and shoutout to @marvelouspeterparker for making a CRAZY pornstar!au fic with tom that inspired me to do this one. happy reading!
Y/N has said it before and she would gladly say it again.
Harrison Osterfield is one hell of a fucking sight to behold.
Writhing underneath her as she rocks her hips against his, his statuesque features come to life —cherry red lips hanging open, making way for moans of pleasure to escape him. The veins on his neck, popping out from underneath his black collar necklace. His fingers around her wrists, statement rings against her bare hands.
His eyes, more blue than green today, peering back and forth; to the sleek black strap-on sliding in and out of him, and to the person it’s attached to.
Y/N, in all her glory, wrapped in a lacy bra and a harness around her hips.
“Baby…” She cups his face with one hand. "S'that feel good?"
He catches her eyes and nods, his sparkling galaxy fingernails digging into her hips, wordlessly beckoning her to come closer. Deeper.
But instead, she slows down. She pulls nearly all the way back, leaving only the tip of the strap-on inside him. "Use your words."
Harrison lets out a whimper, rose gold and dark bronze eyelids fluttering, struggling to stay open. Peering at her through his mascara-laden lashes.
"God, you're so pretty…" Y/N beams, for a moment simply admiring the view underneath her. Head empty, except for the thought she said out loud. And soon her body moves on its own accord, lips closing in on his. Hips thrusting in and out of him. Enrapturing him in all of her.
For a moment, alone together.
“CUT!” Elena, the director, calls out, and the whole set comes to life. Camera and boom operators stretching their arms and artistic team adjusting the set and people generally crossing over.
"That was beautiful, darlings. Let's move onto the next shot and— I really liked when you just gaze at each other for a bit there," Elena compliments as she walks over. Then, turning towards her director of photography, she says, "Can we keep that for the next shot?"
The two stars of the show blend into the busy set just as quickly as they become the center of its attention. It’s a nice little break among the adjustments of the lighting and camera and everything.
"Hold up, I need to stretch my legs a bit," Y/N sets off to straighten up.
Harrison's hand flies up to her hip almost immediately. "Slowly, slowly, slowly—" his quiet warning is cut off with a sigh as she unsheathes the strap-on from him, as gentle as she can be.
She settles opposite him, both casual and comfortable in their state of undress, drawing soothing circles on his lace stocking-clad ankle next to her.
“So I finally tried marinating my steak with pineapple like you said!” he pipes up, “It’s game-changing, Y/N.”
“I know, right? You’re welcome, by the way.” she flashes a cocky grin his way. “How long did you marinate it?”
“The whole day. Did it first thing in the morning, and then seared it for dinner.”
“It's so tender and rich and God, I’m starving.” he muses, tucking an arm behind his head.
“You wanna grab a bite after this?”
“Fuck yes!” he reaches her calf, moaning almost as obscenely as he does during his scene.
It makes her laugh. “We can try that restaurant near—”
“Alright, everyone! Next shot. Harrison, Y/N, can we go back to your marks, please?” Elena turns to them, patting the latter’s shoulder on her way back to the monitor.
“Yeah— can we have some more lube, though?” Y/N motions at the production assistant, who promptly hands her a bottle.
It’s a strange lull, watching someone putting on a generous amount of lube for him while another person hovers around for that bottle, but Harrison simply smiles unabashedly at that girl. “Aw, you didn’t have to.”
“But I want to,” she simply shrugs, handing the bottle back to the unassuming PA, who scurries back as quickly as she arrives. Then, Y/N returns to her initial position on top of him and says, jokingly, “Gotta treat my princess right, don’t I?”
But in that exact moment, she feels his cock flexing in excitement. He looks up to find his gaze darken at the pet name. “Fuck’s sake, Y/N…” he turns away to his the blush in his cheeks.
“You got a fine taste, Harrison.” she nods in approval, pleasantly surprised at this revelation, her signature smile taking over her entire beautiful face once more. “Ready?”
The hustle and bustle quiets down and with it, time slows down, too. The call of camera rolling and slate clapping takes her mind into a different headspace. Her body relaxes, readies itself. For the scene. For the sex.
He takes her in with an arch of his back, savoring every inch. Gosh, he’s so tight, she swears she could feel him gripping from inside her.
It’s a performance, yes, but it’s also awfully intimate. Like drawing the curtains on the deepest part of herself. And Harrison gives as much of himself as she does hers; she likes that about him. Always equally as vulnerable. Familiarly so.
He is, arguably, the best scene partner she’s ever had.
Even when the novelty has worn off, and the sensation starts to dull out of exertion, there’s still that sizzling connection between them that makes them so fun to watch. It’s not always in the motion of their hips (although it is one of the things driving him crazy at this instant.) Sometimes it’s in the glide of her thumb over his lips, or the way he chases her kisses and traces his mouth anywhere he can, ever so tenderly. A breath of fresh air in the midst of the heat.
Right now, her hand is closed in on Harrison's cock, stroking and pounding into him as he ruts back against her. Among the haze, he opens his eyes to gaze at her, pleading,
"Please, I wanna cum… Daddy..." he whimpers. His eyebrows knot in anticipation —and maybe nerves, since he's going off-script with yet another kink.
But Y/N smiles, her quickening pace a stark contrast to her soothing whispers. "Let go, baby. I got you. Daddy’s got you…"
He sprays his hot mess all over his heaving chest with a breathless moan, his ass gripping her strap-on like a vice. She takes her time lapping up his cum and making her way to his lips with soft kisses, making him giggle hazily.
He finds her lips, indulging in his own taste and how her tongue makes it sweeter. For the longest time, they just stay there; hands in each other's hair, catching their breath in kisses after kisses after kisses… until they part and fall back to the soft surface of the bed, blissfully sated.
"And cut,” Elena says softly, definitively. "That's a wrap for the day, people! Wonderful job!"
It's only then that she remembers the presence of twelve other people in the room with them, applauding and cheering for a job well done. Harrison sits up first, bashfully bowing before lightly elbowing her. Y/N nods graciously at everyone else and applauds right back at them.
The PA scurries back around, this time with some wet wipes and bath robes, and the two of them go on about their own business, cleaning up and going back to their respective dressing rooms, exchanging congratulatory pats on the back with the crew on their way.
Y/N is chatting with Elena when Harrison pops up at her open dressing room door. "Hey. You ready to go?"
"Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." she flashes a brief smile her director's way, and then looks back at him. "We're still up for some food, right?"
"'Course! I'm dying for some proper food," he groans dramatically, sauntering in. "Anyway. I'll see you outside and I'll see you tomorrow, Boss."
"Ciao, bello." Elena gives him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, seeing him out of the room. As soon as he's out of earshot, she turns back to her actress. "You two are so cute."
"We're friends," Y/N rolls her eyes, here we go again. It’s quite surprising how, in an industry where friendships among fellow sex workers are so normalized, they’re not exempt to the light teasing. "Really, really good friends."
"Right..." she replies dubiously.
Y/N absently applies her lip gloss, a ghost of a curious smile creeping up on her face. "What?"
Elena rolls her eyes in relent. "I mean, you know me. I don't do those male gaze-y Gonzo porn. I'm all about sensuality and connection and… I'm just saying," she shrugs, "the chemistry doesn't lie."
"Well," Y/N stands up to bid her farewell, "If it gets you to keep working with us, then we'll keep that chemistry alive, how 'bout that?"
"Such a charmer," Elena shakes her head, laughing. "Go. Your good friend is waiting for you."
She can say that it’s all in day’s work until she foams at the mouth, but all signs point the other direction. The bleak grey London scenery is nowhere to be seen; instead, the golden Roman sunset barely peeks over the rows and rows of centuries-old buildings. And leaning against the lamppost, her so-called good friend is casually checking his phone.
He looks up at her and his handsome features light up, gesturing at his watch as he hurries her. “Hey, come on! Mamma mia, spaghetti carbonara! Vamonos.”
"That’s Spanish and… you’re on your own, pal," she deadpans, turning to walk the other way.
He catches her arm, of course. "Oh no, I’m not. You're not gonna leave me to eat alone like a sad English bastard, are you?"
"But you are a sad English bastard, my darling.”
"Mean." he pouts, and he knows how powerful his puppy dog eyes can be. "Besides, I had a gummy bear diet for a whole 24 hours for you. Shoot water up my ass clean for you! The least you can do is wine and dine me, Y/N."
She bursts out laughing —partly at his dramatic recount of his 'sacrifices', and partly at the idea that this is more than what it is. Two very good friends, who do not shy away from gross conversations, letting off steam after work.
“God, that hit the spot…” Y/N sighs as she takes a bite of her tiramisu, following a hearty spaghetti carbonara as their main course (Harrison was not kidding when he uttered that word so passionately earlier.)
Harrison looks up from his now-empty glass of wine with a cheeky smile. “That’s what she said!”
“Having fun, are we?” She teases him good-naturedly.
“I mean, I could definitely get used to this,” he gestures all around him, “We’re doing something cool and artsy for a change, we’re in Rome…”
“Bumming my dessert…” she stiffly points out as she swats his hand away, although he’s already taken a generous amount of her cake in his spoon.
“Exactly! The desserts here are amazing and I just—” he purposely ignores her and puts the stolen spoonful into his mouth. “What a life, you know?”
She glares at him, although the smile she bites back says otherwise. “You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m buying you dinner.” she finishes her dessert before he beats her to the final bite.
But she gets what he means; it was a truly good day at work, where they got to play dressup and do something experimental and incredibly sensual with a female-led crew. And to do that with one’s most trusted scene partner is… wonderful.
“Would you and your beautiful wife like some more wine, Signore?” their waiter, a friendly middle-aged man, offers.
The pair exchange looks —a pause, and then they burst into laughter.
“No, no, no. We’re not—” Y/N chortles, too caught up to continue.
The waiter looks at her in confusion. “No to the wine or the… wife thing, Signora?”
“Oh, we’re not together, sir.” Harrison clears his throat and smiles politely, “As for the wine… what do you think, love?”
“I think we’re good. Early day at work tomorrow, remember?” she eyes him pointedly. Then, she looks to the waiter, “Can we have the check, please? Thank you.”
The waiter nods, walking away from this peculiar pair at the windowside table of this little restaurant, tucked away in one tiny corner of the city. He comes back with the check a moment later, still quite adamant on offering another bottle of Chianti to go.
Y/N shakes her head, much more composed now. “Grazie mille. The food was…” she makes a chef’s kiss gesture as she links her arm with Harrison’s on her way out.
“I’ve never seen someone openly shipping us so hard,” she muses as they enter their hotel lobby, just across the street.
“Do you think he recognized us?”
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t have ‘that look’, you know?”
“Ah, yes.” Harrison grins knowingly.
It doesn’t happen very often, but every now and again someone might clock them from their films or OnlyFans and they have this ‘I-can’t-believe-you’re-a-real-person’ look on their face, which can be amusing or unnerving sometimes.
“He does have the look of, ‘if you get the wine, maybe you’ll get frisky later’ though,” he adds, briefly nodding at the receptionist who wishes them a buonasera.
Y/N simply laughs it off, pressing their floor button.
The door closes, one of those antique elevators with the metal trellis and wooden finish. And suddenly there’s no noise anymore. Just the low humdrum of the old engine.
They climb past floor after floor in silence. It’s only in times like this —where there’s no one else that the voices start to settle in. The voices that ask them why aren’t they together and point out just how close they are. Arm in arm. Alone together in this tiny little space.
“Does that ever make you feel… I don’t know, weird?” Harrison speaks up, a little more quietly this time.
His nose nearly brushes against her cheek, and it makes her heart skip a beat. It takes everything to keep her composure and say, “What do you mean?”
“You know, like, when people are nosy, I guess.”
“Ah well, it comes with the job, right?” Y/N coolly shrugs it off. “And you?”
She finally brings herself to turn to him, finding him looking ahead, lips pursed, head tilted away from her. He feels her curious eyes on him, and he meets her gaze. At that moment, it seems they are both keeping their cards close to their chests. And neither is willing to budge.
The elevator dings and Y/N opens her mouth. Harrison doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath.
“You still have some makeup around your eye.” she saunters out of the elevator and towards her hotel room door.
“Fuck’s sake!” he hisses, his voice coming out sharp in the empty hallway.
“Come on, I got some cleansing oil inside,” Y/N motions him over and slides in her key card.
“This is why you’re the fucking best.” Harrison follows her into her room, drops his bag on the entryway with a flourish, and invites himself into her bathroom.
Such is life as Harrison’s friend, she sighs.
“My God, Y/N, how do you live like this?!” he hollers from inside.
She doesn’t rush inside right away. She knows exactly what he’s going on about. And sure enough, she finds him fixing the towel haphazardly strewn on its hanger and rearranging the mess of her skincare products on the bathroom counter. He makes a point to put the toothpaste cap back on in front of her.
“I was in a hurry, okay?” She simply takes the tube from him, replacing it with the glass bottle of her cleansing oil.
“You’re an animal,” he groans, although he lets her push his hair back anyway —carding her fingers through his wavy locks. It feels so good, so comforting, and he secretly wishes she could do it for longer.
But she lets go. She sits by the sink and toys with a fresh towel while he lathers his face with the cleanser. He can see there’s something on her mind, but Y/N is a stubborn little thing. The more one tries to coax it out of her, the deeper it gets buried.
So Harrison stays quiet, lathering his face with her cleansing oil. He can barely see the little knot between her eyebrows in his periphery, but he knows it’s there. Any second now...
“You know, Elena said something similar earlier.”
And there it is. “What’d she say?”
Y/N waits until he turns on the tap, rinsing his face. Perhaps some white noise and mundane activity would be a good buffer. “She asked if we were together. Said the chemistry doesn’t lie, or whatever.”
Harrison turns off the tap, and the small squeak sounds deafening at the moment. “And what did you say?”
“I said we’re really good friends!” she replies matter-of-factly, a little too loud and high-pitched to be casual. Well, at least he’s patting his face with the towel, so she can’t see his face.
Alas, the distraction only buys her 5 seconds until Harrison puts it down. He folds it in two and sets it aside. An extra 3 seconds, but it’s enough for him to muster up the courage to say,
“Would it be so bad if it were true?”
“What?” she looks up from her hands in her lap, for the first time sounding less than cocksure about herself.
He shrugs, absently fixing the row of bottles and tubs in front of him. “I’m just saying.”
“What are you saying?”
“I… like you and I like what we have and —I don’t know. Maybe I want to kiss you when we’re not working.” he wipes his hands awkwardly and leans against the sink.
They’ve been in every intimate situation known to man, with tens of people watching, and yet… in the stillness of this sleek bathroom, bathed in warm vanity light reflected against emerald green tiles, they’ve never felt so naked with each other. So vulnerable.
“Just kisses?” Y/N eventually pipes up, a glint of humor in her eyes —but also a sliver of yearning, too.
“See, that’s the other thing! We already know how compatible we are in bed and, like, we both do the same shit for work; we don’t need to have that awkward conversation about what the relationship will be like between us.”
“What if I want you to quit doing porn?” she crosses her arms, challenging him. Making sure he’s not fucking with her.
He makes a face like he knows her like the back of his hand. “Do you, really?”
And he does, she begrudgingly admits. “No, I don’t,” she sighs.
“That’s exactly what I mean." he lodges himself between her open legs. “What do you say?”
Y/N loosely wraps her legs around his trim waist, hands sneaking under his sweatshirt. “What if it doesn’t work out?”
It’s a valid concern and definitely something he’s maturely considered. “Then we… go back to being friends and co-workers. I mean, at the very worst, I don’t see us ending so badly, we wouldn’t stand to be around each other.”
“I don’t know about that, though. You’re pretty anal.”
“I thought you liked me because I’m anal.” he quirks his eyebrows at the last word.
“Shut up…” she weakly swats his chest, though she keeps her hand there, her initial worries dissipating. Gosh, being with Harrison is so easy. “So we’re doing this?”
“If you want to.”
“Sex without a camera, huh? That’s new.” she smirks at her own remark.
“No camera, no crew, no makeup…” he teases, pulling her in.
Their foreheads rest against each other, and it does calm her nerves a bit. “When in Rome,” she murmurs.
She makes the first move. They must’ve kissed a thousand times today, adding to tens of thousands more kisses in all the times they’ve worked together. But this one feels new. Unhurried. Untethered.
Indulgent, for once.
They eventually move to the bed and Y/N has no qualms with continuing their makeout session right away, but of course Harrison can’t stand the mess of clothes on the edge of the bed. She tuts and pushes it onto the floor, only to find him shooting a dirty glare at her.
“You’re an animal,” Harrison reiterates his disdain for her messy habits.
“Ugh, you’re so anal. Leave me alone!” She groans, stretching out her limbs in her bed.
“I didn’t hear you complain about that earlier,” he retorts, pulling her back into his arms.
The night is young and with no marks to hit, no takes to nail, they just lay on their sides and make out in bed for the longest time. Fingers dancing on the skin under their shirts, lazily peeling away one clothing item after another. She draws an invisible line from freckle to freckle, from his neck to his hip, before eventually resting her palm over his heart. Beating stubbornly under the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Harrison’s hand treads between her legs, knuckles stroking her soft inner thigh. She lets him in, of course, reveling in the way he traces her clit. How his whole body presses against hers, taking in every shift in her movement. Every twitch. Every subtle reaction to the way he makes her feel so fucking good.
Y/N arches up into his touch as he inches closer towards her opening. No words needed to be said; he knows what she wants. And when he spreads her own wetness around her cunt just a little too long, he simply wants to savor her bashful little laugh… and watch it falter when his fingers swiftly enter her.
“Shit…” her hand flies up around his neck, pulling him back into a kiss.
He falls out of the kiss as her jaw slacks at the quickening of his pace, and he ventures down her breasts. Finding his way to her hardened nipple, nipping and sucking to his heart’s desire.
And his heart desires to hear her sweet sighs and feel her fall apart underneath him.
She gives him just that, and it’s the easiest thing ever. Her whole body is overwhelmed with the sensation of his fingers stroking her sweet spot and his thumb lightly —lithely pressing on her clit. Soon enough, she succumbs to the impending release and whimpers his name as she cums. She trusts him to listen to her body and follow the signs, and sure enough… he does. He powers through her orgasm and slows his pace as she winds down.
"Fuck, that was nice.” she falls back into her pillow.
“I know. You’ve been doing a lot of the work today, my love,” he smooths out her hair, kissing her sweetly. “Want me to take the reins now?”
“Mm, yes please.” As bossy as she is, Y/N can’t fight how her limbs feel like jelly after that. And being taken care of really doesn’t sound so bad right now.
And Harrison is more than happy to do so. He lines up his hard, veiny cock and slides it in bit by bit, letting her adjust to his size. He’s always been thicker than he seems, and as sexy as it may be to make her scream with one swift thrust, the promise of slow, vanilla sex sounds way more enticing to them.
Y/N wraps her legs around his waist and eventually pulls him all the way in. Above all, her heart feels full at how tender they are with each other.
“You feel so good…” he hums into her neck, leaving soft kisses in his wake as he feels her walls gripping him like a vice.
“So do you, darling,” she murmurs back, grinding her hips into his.
He starts thrusting in and out of her, easing her into the comings and goings of his cock. She keeps him close, though. Letting herself be enshrouded by his body, his scent. His warmth. It feels grounding.
And when Harrison picks up his pace and inching closer towards their high, she finds herself settling back into the comfort of their relationship. In her haze of it all, she still finds it in her to tease him.
“That’s it. Fuck. Be a good boy and take care of Daddy,” she lazily grins.
He clenches his jaw, the motion of his hips faltering just a little. “Fuck’s sake, don’t do that.”
“Do what?” she blinks up at him, feigning innocence and fooling nobody.
“You know what, Y/N,” he replies with a grunt and a thrust that reaches deep into her core.
And of course, with the big dick energy she possesses, she responds with a sharp smack on his ass. “Don’t be rude, that’s Daddy for you.”
“Fuck!” he feels the clench of her pussy, the sting of her palm, and the sly smirk gazing up at him and he loses all control. Blowing his load into her silky inner walls.
Meanwhile Y/N is rocking a shit-eating million-dollar smile through it all. That little shit.
“That’s a dirty fucking game you’re playing,” he says between labored breaths into the crook of her neck.
“I know.” she kisses his sweat-damp hair.
Harrison, sluggish as he is after his orgasm, lifts his head up to meet her gaze. “I’mma get you for that.”
“Oh yeah? How?”
Y/N feels two things in the span of 3 seconds: emptiness, from Harrison pulling out of her and his weight on top of her suddenly gone just like that. And then warmth, of his mouth on her spent, dripping pussy. He wastes no time devouring the juices leaking out of her like it’s the only thing he’ll ever do. There's no camera to pander the money shot —just his insatiable self and this sexy, peculiar, funny creature that he’s crazy about. And if he spends the rest of his life bringing her to her sweet release and nothing else, he’d be the luckiest man alive.
Her big finish comes as sudden, as intense as her beginning. The kind that takes her breath away and makes her thighs tremble and close in around his head. And he makes good on his promise —he keeps licking her clit as a playful revenge, until she actively pushes his head away from the overstimulation.
“You’re an animal,” she whines, although she pulls him back into her embrace.
“That’s what you get for exposing me!”
“Um, excuse me? You exposed yourself, sir.”
“I guess I couldn’t help it when you’re being so fucking sexy like that.”
They exchange looks, the room suddenly quieting down —and then they burst into laughter, gagging and shuddering at the corny, porn-y pickup line.
“Oh God, Elena is gonna have a field day tomorrow,” Y/N sighs as she settles back into his chest. He makes for a nice pillow, it turns out.
“Ah well, let her,” he smooths out her sexed-up hair gently, pressing a kiss on her forehead, “We’ll be alright.”
And if this is what she falls asleep and wakes up to forever, she’s pretty sure she will be.
thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed it! if you like my work, please consider giving me feedback through reblogs and asks. thank you so much <333
#aaahhh it's been so long #how do i tag even #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield oneshot #harrison osterfield x reader #pornstar!haz #ava writes
#might have to just write a one shot for them #love those nerds #alright anon when im done with my soulmate au ill do a lil bees schnees oneshot #just gotta think of something... #hm #anyway glad you like my bee fics! #don't mind me #ask#anon#answered
so sorry for the repost. tumblr fucked up w the tags and the drabble wasn't showing up in any of them 3
pairing(s) — antagonist!park sunghoon x gn!reader.
genre(s) — dystopain, heavy angst, apocalypse au.
word count — 963.
warning(s) — death, violence, a lot of heartache.
playlist — arcade by duncan laurence. [i strongly recommend listening to the song. it sets the mood well and may even make you cry.]
summary — loving park sunghoon, you realised, had been a losing game. it was all borrowed time anyway.
author's note — ok so this is clearly not the jake fic i said i would post LMAO i lost the doc w no backup so here we are 3 i originally wrote this drabble for jungkook and would now like to share it w enhablr. i hope you like it ♡
Destruction, pain and suffering—they were everywhere.
In the car crashes that blocked the roads, the dead bodies inside as mangled as the metal destroyed in the collision. In the trucks that toppled over broken suspension bridges and into the waiting waters below. In the anguished screams of a mother searching for her small child’s lost stroller in a city full of chaos.
In the skyscrapers that once touched the sky, now collapsing to the ground like dominoes. In the black, suffocating smoke that corrupted the chilly mid-morning air. In the ear-splitting bomb explosions that threatened to shatter everything apart.
Destruction, pain and suffering swirled in your red-rimmed eyes. They made your bones shiver from within. They mocked you and they laughed at you, ever the merciless abominations.
You were pushed into a room in one of the last standing structures in the city. The shackles around your wrists rattled, the ones binding your legs making you stumble. The cloth covering the entirety of your bloody face didn’t make things any easier.
A rough kick to your spine had you falling to your knees. Your palms immediately opened in front of you to break your fall. Stones and broken pieces of cement and ruin pierced your skin, drawing hot blood and inflicting the kind of pain you were starting to get used to.
Over the past few weeks, you had learnt that getting used to the pain didn't guarantee immunity from the agony caused by it. Handling the torment becomes slightly easier, but it still hurts like a bitch. Especially when the person currently delivering it was—
“Remove the mask. I want them to see me.”
Someone tugged the cloth away and accidentally ripped a few strands of your hair in the process. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t make a single sound. The sudden abundance of sunlight blinded you for a moment and you had to shield your eyes from its unforgiving intensity.
As soon as your eyes adjusted to the brightness, you saw him.
Park Sunghoon was, is and will be the most beautiful human being you’ll ever lay your eyes on. He stood five feet and nine inches tall, but from your kneeling position, he looked no shorter than six feet in height. He was adorned in a pair of tightly fitting black leather pants and a white t-shirt that hugged him in all the right places.
A leather jacket covered his strong biceps and veiny arms. His feet were clad in ankle-high combat boots, and every inch of his body was covered with weapons.
Two guns in his hands, two swords strung across his back. knew without doubt that the inside of his jacket hid more knives than you could count. His body alone was a weapon. Everything else was just a show-off.
He smiled at you as if he read your thoughts. “Hello, ____. How have you been?”
You chose to keep your mouth shut and not answer. You didn’t know if you could answer Sunghoon firmly. Not when you felt so broken and weak. “Leave us alone,” he commanded, not taking his eyes away from yours for even a second.
You heard his soldiers file out of the room without question. The door slammed shut, and a tear finally escaped your eye. “Why?” you whispered.
Sunghoon kneeled in front of you and wiped the wetness away with the kind of gentleness that broke your heart. “I have to do what I need to do, ____,” he whispered back. “I don’t give the orders. I follow them.”
He had to follow the orders that told him to destroy the city—was what he didn’t need to say. It was very evident now.
You pressed your lips together in a futile attempt to stop them from trembling. “Do what you need to do.” You meant for the words to come out strong, but your voice cracked. You couldn’t bear the pain anymore. You could only hold on and hope against hope for so long.
“I’m sorry. I wish things were different,” Sunghoon said. Cupping your face with his palms, he kissed your forehead tenderly. You didn’t resist him, choking back a sob when his lips lingered. “I’m so sorry, love. I don’t have a choice.” He pulled away from you. “I’m sorry for betraying you.”
You stared at him wordlessly. He nodded and stood up again, moving away from you and back to where he was standing previously.
“Any last words?” he asked, voice loud enough for the men standing outside to hear. Sunghoon raised a hand and aimed the gun at your tear-streaked and utterly devastated face.
You closed your eyes and let everything go. You reminisced the memories one last time. You let his smiling face flicker by. You imagined feeling the warmth of his embrace and the softness of his lips on yours. You imagined feeling the velvety texture of his hair as you wove your hands through the silky strands.
You thought of his betrayal for one last time. The deception that tore your heart apart. You remembered the truth for one last time and recalled the lie of your relationship. The reality of the organisation he worked for the entire time. The organisation that was hell-bent on destroying your city and had realised you withheld sensitive information. The organisation that had sent Sunghoon to break down your walls and extract it.
You opened your eyes and looked at him one last time. Park Sunghoon was, is and will always be the most beautiful person you’ll ever lay your eyes on.
Park Sunghoon will also be the last human being you’ll ever lay the same eyes on. You took a deep breath and whispered, “I love you.”
yoongi x reader (oc)
genre: angst; fluff
word count: 3.6K
a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s part 2 to “I’m not walking out on you” in which Yoongi and reader/Kid get into a pretty major fight. This takes place that same night and the next day. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))
Sleep doesn’t come too easy for those with the weight of two aching hearts inside their chest. The throbbing of your own heart, you could handle. But knowing you were the cause of your lover’s pain sat heavy in your mind. The look of regret, hurt, defeat that was etched across Yoongi’s features was impossible to shake, hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon of your own creation.
Your tears had stopped since you shut yourself away in your bedroom, but the regret was all the more deep and unsettling. At the sound of the washing machine beeping on the other side of the door, you rolled onto your side, facing the wooden barrier that kept you from Yoongi. You were so sick of walls, but it was all that you knew.
Lifting yourself from the mattress, you began tiptoeing across the room to move the bedding to the dryer. You couldn’t sleep anyway. However, when you carefully pulled the door open, not wanting to alert your boyfriend of your activity, you were stopped in your tracks, the air leaving your lungs as you remained completely still. Peeking through the slightly ajar door, you watched as Yoongi transferred the sheets from the washing machine to the dryer.
He didn’t hear the door open, appearing oblivious to your presence. And perhaps that was why he wasn’t more careful in concealing the sniffle that sounded in the hallway, the small fragile sound stabbing your heart. When he raised his arm to his face, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe across his cheek, there was no mistaking the emotional state of the man. Yoongi was crying, and it was your fault.
Feeling as though you were going to be sick, you quickly but quietly shut the door, hiding away behind the barrier once again. You should have stepped into the hallway and faced the man you loved, but your cowardice always seemed to win. Instead, you stood frozen, your back pressed against the wood, your jaw clenched, and your eyes filling with tears once again.
If only you had known that the click of the latch registered in Yoongi’s ears, the man turning to see the door closed. However, he knew you were just on the other side, he could feel your presence. Yoongi had stepped toward the door, raising his arm and nearly knocking before deciding against it. Maybe you wanted space, maybe you didn’t want to see him. Sighing, he started the dryer before returning to the couch, all while you leaned against the door wishing you had the courage to step outside.
As you remained restless in bed, you couldn’t help but think about how you had ambushed Yoongi. You could tell that as far as he knew, you and him didn’t have any issues. Replaying the fight in your head, the interaction with him earlier in his studio, the past couple weeks, you realized he was completely oblivious to how you had been feeling. How could the fight ever be fair if he had no indication of any problems? And to bring up his mistake from nearly a year ago that you knew he regretted, whether it still hurt you or not, was cruel.
You left him defenseless; the man who always lowered his defenses when it came to you.
Curiosity and your undeniable pull to Yoongi getting the best of you, you found yourself in the hallway, headed toward the living room where he was sleeping for the night. With how still everything in the apartment was, you worried for just a moment that maybe he had actually left, despite his promise not to walk out on you. You wouldn’t even blame him if he did. However, you caught a glimpse of the messy hair that sat atop his head where he rested against the arm of the sofa, once again reminding you of how foolish your misguided accusations were. Of course he didn’t leave.
Stepping closer to him, you carefully peeked over the top of the sofa to see him lying on his back, his mouth slightly ajar as he slept, his arms folded across his body as though he was trying to secure as much warmth as he could. More than ever you were regretting the fight, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and let him use up all the body warmth you had to offer.
You were surprised to find him sleeping so soundly, as he usually couldn’t find slumber when his mind was busy processing stress or conflict. His exhausted state made you feel even more guilty as you realized how little you took his current workload into consideration when targeting your attacks at him. And that’s when you realized that even more than you expected him to be late for your date that night, you wanted him to be. Because then it would validate your anger without you having to discuss how you had been feeling. It was a fix all, a get out of jail free card; finally release the anger that had been building up over the past two weeks and then move on. What you didn’t consider was the casualty you turned your boyfriend into. Nor did you expect the insecurity you still felt from the start of your relationship to surface. There was a time, one single time, when you didn’t find Yoongi asleep on your couch after a fight.
But he was there now. And you needed to find a way to let go of the past, forgive, and move forward together.
Lost in your thoughts and revelations, you were suddenly pulled back into the present moment when the dryer beeped to signal it had completed its cycle. Jumping in start, your eyes widened as you stared at Yoongi, hoping he wouldn’t wake up and catch you watching him. Frozen for just a few seconds, you waited for any sign of consciousness before quickly backing away and heading for the dryer.
Reaching into the machine, your arms were shrouded with the warmth of freshly dried blankets. Glancing over your shoulder at the sofa, you pouted, remembering how cold Yoongi looked. Without a second thought, you found yourself approaching Yoongi once more, comforter in hand. Stopping in front of the couch, you peered down at him and prepared to drape the warm blanket over him.
However, you spotted one of his yellow notepads stuck between his arm and abdomen, full of words that he must have scribbled down before falling asleep. It was lyrics, no doubt, and normally you would have read over the words with great curiosity and appreciation for Yoongi’s lyrical talent. But with the previous events of your evening with Yoongi, you felt as though that would be an invasion of privacy. Or maybe you were worried you would find harsh words about yourself, though realistically you doubted it. Whatever the reason, you gently tugged on the notepad, freeing it of his grasp before setting it aside on the coffee table, along with the pen that rolled onto his stomach.
As carefully as you could, you set the blanket over his frame, tucking it in just slightly around him, not wanting to wake the man. Satisfied with your work, you stepped back and glanced at his features, ensuring his eyes were still shut, his mouth still open signaling a deep sleep.
His cheeks were so soft and plush, his facial structure so delicate. You could stare at him for ages but you worried the unspoken love and regret that was screaming within your heart and mind would wake him. But for just a moment longer, you inspected his features, appreciating the soft gentleness that was always so present within them. If only you could be more like him. You were certain the world would be so much kinder, considerate, and serene if more people could embody the stunning nature that was your boyfriend. Yoongi had never once lashed out against you in the way that came so naturally to you. You wondered if he knew how much you appreciated that about him. Even when angry, he was always so gentle.
Sighing, you forced yourself to leave him to sleep, returning to your room where you would continue to ruminate on the mistakes that you wish you could take back.
You didn’t know at what point you had finally succumbed to sleep but you did know that Yoongi was the only thing on your mind when you slipped into a state of slumber. Consciousness came slow at first, your mind hazy as you took your time piecing together the elements of the new morning. And then it came fast, anxiety crashing through you as you recalled the events of the previous night and realized you’d have to face Yoongi.
The sound of rummaging from outside the room alerted you that your boyfriend was awake and moving around. A part of you wanted to stay locked away, safe within the walls of your bedroom. But a larger part knew you had to emerge and try to fix the damage you had caused. Instinct and habit were battling it out with growth and trust, and you knew which you had to choose.
Emerging from your self-made cell, you sheepishly made your way toward the kitchen where the sounds of action were coming from. The smell of food cooking suddenly flooded your nostrils and when you turned into the kitchen, you found Yoongi standing at the stove as he prepared breakfast, two awaiting plates set to the side. Why was he cooking for you?
As you entered his peripheral, he turned to you, his eyes wide, his features as gentle as ever. The tension was palpable, but the slight upturn of Yoongi’s mouth helped to cut it just slightly.
“Thanks for the blanket,” he spoke to you, your heart racing at the minor interaction. Nodding at him, he returned his gaze back down to the contents within the frying pan. “Did you sleep ok?”
Scrutinizing him slightly, you stared at him as he tossed around the egg mixture, his eyes not lifting as he patiently waited for your response. “Not really,” you admitted quietly, Yoongi’s sweet orbs meeting yours once again. How could he look at you with so much understanding after last night? He should be angry and bitter, lecturing you on your behavior.
The man silently turned to the coffee pot, filling one of your mugs before adding some milk and sugar, fixing it just how you liked it. The simple gesture had tears pricking your eyes because after everything, he was still caring for you. Because he wanted to.
Walking toward you, he held the steaming ceramic cup out to you, forcing a small smile of gratitude from you. “Thanks,” you whispered as you took the coffee from him, holding back tears that Yoongi immediately noticed.
“Kid,” he whispered with a frown just as you directed your misty eyes to the contents of the mug, suddenly finding the tan coloring of the liquid fascinating. “Hey,” he called for your attention.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled childishly. “I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know how to-” you cut yourself off as a tear fell to your thumb, your hand wrapped around the warm mug. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, stepping toward you and placing a hand to the back of your head. He dipped his face into your eye line, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you.”
The three words served as a reminder and an explanation, as if his love for you meant he wouldn’t want to treat you with anything but kindness. And that was new. Foreign. And overwhelming.
When he leaned forward to press his lips to your forehead, it all felt even more confusing but you were grateful. Grateful for the respect and compassion he dedicated to you, even when you didn’t feel deserving.
“You don’t know how to do what?” He asked softly, his lips ghosting over your skin.
Pulling away from you, he looked into your eyes. Yoongi was someone who was always a bit awkward with eye contact, struggling to maintain it for too long even with you, and that’s when you realized how hard he was trying to break through your walls. The man was pushing himself outside of his comfort zone in hopes of pulling you out of yours, so you could fall into him like a safety net. He wanted to be that for you.
“You’re supposed to be mad at me or giving me the silent treatment or something and I just-” you shrugged as Yoongi’s eyebrows pulled together as though he was studying you. “It feels like you’ve already forgiven me and I don’t know how to do this without the anger or feeling like I have to grovel for your love.”
The man shook his head instantly, a pout forming on his pretty lips. “You never have to grovel for my love, who taught you that, Kid?” He asked sadly, his empathy washing over you and your past. “I just love you,” he told you for the second time that morning. And as your heart pounded against your chest, Yoongi’s hand found your lower back. “We do this by talking about it. With understanding and accountability. So will you sit at the island and talk to me while I finish cooking us breakfast?”
You had never had a safe place to land, making you believe you were meant to fly, never staying in one place for too long. But Yoongi was giving you that place to land, to rest, to find shelter. Nodding at him, he gave you a small close mouthed smile, one of those ones that pushed his soft cheeks up in just the way you loved. His hand slowly dragged around to your side before sliding off your hip as he headed back to the stove. And you followed, taking a place on one of the stools, setting your mug on the island as you watched Yoongi appreciatively.
“I’m sorry for leaving in the past,” he started, your eyes popping wide open, not expecting for him to initiate the conversation there. “I’m sorry for not fighting for you, and I’m sorry that still looms over you. I had hoped that you were able to move past it but I understand the impact it made and the precedent it set.”
“I wasn’t holding it over you,” you interjected, not wanting him to think that you were hanging onto his mistakes to use against him. “I didn’t even know it still hur-” you cut yourself off, feeling guilty for bringing the word hurt into the discussion.
“It hurts you, Kid,” he looked up from the pan as he spoke. “You can say that.”
“It’s just when that happened it reaffirmed at the time everything I knew to be true about love, you know? Like, it’s fleeting and within an instant it can be removed,” you explained.
“I understand,” he nodded. “And you shouldn’t feel guilty for being affected by my actions.”
“The same can be said for you,” you pointed out, a small smile curving on Yoongi’s lips.
“Touché ,” he lightheartedly commented, making you smile in return. “But you were feeling rejected, Kid. That is on me.”
“No, because I never vocalized anything,” you disagreed.
“I should have known,” he mumbled, expressing disappointment in himself.
“Are you a mind reader?” You asked him, making him stop his inward spiral as he stared at you. “I should have told you so much sooner how I was feeling. I didn’t. That was immature of me.”
Taking a moment to think, the man shook his head at himself. “I still should have never made you feel rejected,” he said, defeat evident in his tone.
“Yoongi,” you sighed. “Baby, sometimes I worry that you make so few mistakes in our relationship that you get this standard of perfection thrown on you, and that’s not realistic. You’re going to fuck up, I’m going to fuck up, I don’t want it to be the end of the world when that happens.”
Stunned by your words, he stared at you with widened eyes, his jaw slightly opened, appearing almost frozen in place. Closing his mouth, he cleared his throat before wetting his lips just slightly, his tongue lingering in the corner of his mouth as he sorted through his thoughts.
“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he admitted softly, your lips forming into a pout as tears formed in your eyes.
“I know that,” you assured him. “Yoon, we had one of our biggest fights last night where I gave you my worst and since then I’ve caught you finishing my laundry and cooking me fucking breakfast, and you’ve been nothing but sweet to me, and- do you know how incredible that is? How much that means to me?”
Yoongi blinked quickly, an attempt to conceal the tears that had bubbled in his own eyes. You were certain that a conflict as big as the one you and Yoongi had found yourselves in should be harder to fix. There should be more conversation, more pleading, more tears, more fighting. But he presented you with a safety net, and you found yourself breaking through your own walls and falling into it.
“I love you,” you told him, wanting to assure him the way he did you.
Sighing, he stared at you, gratitude shimmering in his orbs. “Can you forgive me for the past?”
“I already did,” you told him sincerely. And you had. “It’s just a process, you know, unlearning what I thought love was and relearning it as, this,” you gestured between yourself and Yoongi. “I have to accept that this is how you love me and that you’re not going anywhere.” Shrugging at him, you huffed. “Insecurities work their way in but I trust you, Yoongi.”
“I’m still sorry. For the past, and for making you feel rejected,” he told you, making you glare at the man.
“I accept your apology, and it’s ok. But I don’t want you living in a constant state of apology, I won’t allow it,” you told him sternly.
The comment drew a breathy chuckle out of the man, Yoongi’s small gummy smile pushing out the remaining tension, and effectively filling your lungs with air.
“I’m sorry for being immature and blowing up,” you told him. “And for bringing up past shit and being mean and not vocalizing my concerns and-”
“Hey,” he smiled sweetly. “It’s all ok. Really, Kid, we’re ok.”
Nodding at him, you sighed in relief. You were still left with some remaining guilt over the fight, which you’d be making up for whether he wanted you to or not. But you felt a sense of closure to last night, the past two weeks, and the fight that nearly ended your relationship before it could truly start almost a year ago.
As Yoongi broke away from the conversation to place the finished food onto the plates, you glanced to the side of the island, noticing the yellow notepad that sat with the first page folded over the top binding. More words were scribbled than last night, indicating that Yoongi had woken up and finished jotting down lyrics before you emerged from your room.
“Did you read them?” Yoongi’s voice cut through your thoughts as he appeared beside you, setting a plate in front of you. Looking up from the notepad to meet his gaze, you shook your head.
“I didn’t feel like I had the right,” you told him, Yoongi pulling his eyebrows together in scrutiny. “Plus it was dark in there, my eyes aren’t that good,” you joked.
“Yeah you’re blind,” he humorously deadpanned.
“I am,” you easily agreed.
“You could have read them,” he returned to the original topic as he gently dug his fingers through your slept-on hair, massaging the roots sweetly. “It’s about you.”
“A new cypher verse?” You teased, eliciting a chuckle from the man as his shoulders shook adorably.
“You’ll have to do a lot more to earn yourself a cypher verse, Kid.”
Shooting him a glare with your eyebrow raised, you smirked. “Is that a challenge?”
“No,” he shook his head, leaning down toward you. “It’s not,” he whispered just before his lips met yours, kissing you softly. Your hand found his waist, wanting to hold some piece of him as you kissed him back, pouring forgiveness and love into the act.
When he pulled away, a stupidly cute gummy grin directed to you, you couldn’t help but return the smile, a small giggle slipping from your lips. “Don’t ever write a cypher about me, I’ll cry,” you told him jokingly. “Even when I’m mean,” you added with a forced pout, Yoongi smiling just before placing a peck to your mouth once more.
“You call that mean?” He asked as he pulled away and sat down in the stool next to you. “You’re gonna have to do much better than that, I’m Min Yoongi.”
“He says Min Yoongi as if that’s not synonymous with a honey boy,” you teased as you took a bite of your food, immediately moaning at the taste. Yoongi pulled a disgusted expression at your dramatized reaction to the food, making you giggle.
“I’m your honey boy. That hasn’t changed,” he pointed out just as he took a bite himself.
And as you stared at him with a dumb smile, your eyes holding all of the love in the world, you felt excitement and gratitude that you’d get to shower him in all that love and affection for as long as he’d let you. And if that morning was any indication, he’d be letting you for your entire lives.
synopsis: peter is flustered when you see him driving in the streets of nyc. little does he know, this encounter blossoms into you two swapping music.
pairing: peter parker x reader
warnings: none, just fluff!
word count: 2k
note: this is my first fic please be nice <3 if you’d like a link to the playlist dm me (i would’ve posted it but i prefer some privacy over my social networks) also let me know if i should make a part 2!
Peter doesn’t like driving. Hates it, even. Although, using Aunt May’s car was much of convenience considering he and Ned needed to get around sometimes without relying on the subway, which was more often than not a stressful ordeal for an anxiety-riddled, overprotective Aunt May. Also, Peter could use the practice. It was a miracle he was even able to get his license at the age of seventeen, and sometimes he even dreamed about getting accepted somewhere out of state where he could use the car in a much less chaotic atmosphere. This was one of those chaotic atmospheres.
He’s gotten used to it by now, living in New York City his whole life, but the honks and yells never fail to make his heart beat a bit faster. Despite his Spiderman strength, he's still an emotional teenage boy who couldn’t stand a busy intersection. At the moment, he’s sat in the driver’s seat on the way to pick up Ned for a last-minute excursion around some abandoned asylum in a more suburban part of New York. Ned had gotten more and more into ghosts lately.
Peter feels like he hasn’t moved in ten minutes, which might as well be true. He rolls his eyes at the red light in front of him like a curse. It doesn’t help that this is a difficult part of the city where it seems that no one knows how to merge, though Peter knows better than to necessarily get angry or have road rage. However, he’s plenty pissed off thinking about how much faster he could get around in his suit, swinging to his heart’s galore through the city without a care. You’re lucky, Peter. It’s a miracle that you passed considering you’re kind of shit at parallel parking, MJ’s voice echoes in his mind. He groans out of annoyance at the entire situation.
At the corner of his eye, he sees a familiar face. It’s you, to be specific, scrolling on your phone with your book bag hoisted on your shoulder, not to mention the three books that you're cradling in your right arm while your hand is holding a latte. For some reason, this mesmerizes Peter -- seeing you out of context instead of in his physics class. You had always caught his eye, namely because you were always a millisecond faster at answering questions than he could, which both immensely impressed him and made him feel inferior. You seemed like someone who was untouchable, sitting at lunch with the likes of Liz Allen and always looking perfectly polished. You were beautiful in a quiet way, never wanting to attract too much attention as you grew into your body over the years. Peter realizes he almost has you memorized, but he doesn’t register that it could be considered close to a crush until now, as he watches your hair blow in the wind. God, you’re pretty. He remembers noticing every eyelash on your face the single time you were lab partners sophomore year. Other than that, the two of you had only ever exchanged friendly greetings and small talk during your academic decathlon meetings. Seeing you on the street right now was like seeing a deer from afar -- admiring your grace and not wanting to disturb your peace.
It seems that it doesn’t take long for you to make eye contact with Peter once he immediately notices you, because now you’re looking right at him and grinning ear to ear. Your mouth is moving and saying things that Peter can’t understand. His eyes are wide with bewilderment but his ears are flushed with embarrassment because he doesn’t realize how long he was staring at you.
“Peter?” you ask loudly.
“Yeah?” Peter’s brain is fumbling because he didn’t prepare himself for this moment. He doesn’t even remember the last time you two had a conversation that wasn’t just a hello and a smile.
“What song is this?” you repeat.
Peter’s eyes light up, though his eyebrows furrow because he’s caught off guard. He looks at his phone briefly.
Age of paranoia
Don't be such a modern stranger
“Oh, it’s, um, Hunnybee, by…” Peter stutters, not able to read the artist on his phone before the car behind him honks loudly. You’re giggling at this point to his utter embarrassment, but you can’t help but notice how adorable Peter is when he’s stumbling over his words.
“You got a green light, Parker! Tell me later,” you yell after him, grinning.
He returns a sheepish smile and wants so badly to say more. Peter’s shy usually, but he’s never usually this bashful around you. He curses under his breath once he hears the angry screams from the car behind him. Looking behind him, he sees a bulky man with a red face full of unbridled rage. “Sorry, sir! Brakes were, um, stuck…”
He accelerates further and hates himself for it. He’s much too scatterbrained to process everything that's going on, and now as he proceeds on the highway he realizes he didn’t even get to respond to you. He groans loudly, hitting the back of his skull to the headrest.
Peter feels ridiculous like this, blushing like a little kid just because of your presence. It’s not entirely his teenage hormones to blame, however, you did happen to glance over to him multiple times during your shared AP Literature class. Wonder if it was on purpose, he thinks to himself, licking his lips as he scans his eyes over your bare legs. Your plaid skirt is just short enough to show off your gorgeous legs. It was a surprise you hadn’t gotten dress-coded to say the least. Peter cringes at himself for staring and attempts to get his mind out of the gutter, though this ends up in him staring at your lips instead. He tries so desperately hard not to remember how you made his heart flutter just days ago, your mouth curled upwith a Cheshire grin on the street while he was in May’s car. He wishes you looked at him like that every single day.
Of heaven, tongues are fencing
Too many leaves in the city
Careful like an orchid
He’s intrigued by your voice and your mind, honestly, because your presentation on the feminist lens of Ophelia’s character in Hamlet is more than just compelling -- it seems to rile up the other male students in the classroom during the Q&A following behind. Peter raises his hand timidly to show his support for your opinions through a meek agreement to your argument. You beam at him and he feels like he’s going to fall apart.
The bell rings for the next period, so you gather your things. Peter surprises himself with the nerve to come up to you. “Hunnybee.”
“Huh?” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Is that a pet name or something?
“By, uh, Unknown Mortal Orchestra. You asked what song I was playing in my car the other day,” Peter stammers.
You remember the encounter finally and you blush. You feel bad, truly, because although the look on Peter’s face was hilarious at the time, the honks behind him truly changed his emotions to pure fear.
“Oh, yeah! Thanks so much,” you smile. “Wait, give me your hand.”
Peter obliges without protesting, though he has no idea what you have in store for him. You grab his hand and a metallic sharpie that you keep for drawing in the front pocket of your book bag. Hunnybee Unknown Mortal Orchestra is scrawled on the back of your hand quickly before you quickly write your number into Peter’s palm.
“Weird that you didn’t have my number already since we’re on the decathlon together and stuff. But, um, yeah, I can’t wait to look up that song. I feel like you have really good music taste. Could you make me a playlist and send it to me? I mean, that’s a lot. Even just sending me some songs you like would be great, uh, I’ve been listening to the same shit over and over since school started and…” you trail off awkwardly. You’re nervous. Peter Parker of all people is making you nervous?
Peter looks like he’s been struck by lighting. In a good way, maybe, because although his mouth is slightly ajar, he’s smiling.
“For sure. I’ll hit your line later.”
You giggle and wave goodbye to him. That conversation feels like the balls-test thing you’d ever done.
Did you know what it was like to have your heart stopped? Maybe not. Maybe for a split second when you were a kid and your delicate body had a seizure which had landed you in the hospital, which ultimately wasn’t even a dramatic thing anyway. Any health issues you had had subsided once you grew into your teens. However, at that moment, it was like your chest jumped. Literally. All because of a text from Peter Parker.
(unsaved number): uh, i tried my best
(unsaved number): [spotify playlist title+link] for y/n
(unsaved number): feel free to block me if this is trash
(y/n): could never block you. listening now :)
peter: hahaha, i'm sweating balls
peter: feel like i'm being judged on a gameshow or something
(y/n): you’re doing well so far
You can’t help but smile as the first song plays. Sprawling across your bed, your hair is fanned all over your face as your headphones blast LCD Soundsystem. Peter probably could’ve put death metal on the playlist he made for you and you would still feel that ache in your core. No, he made this because you asked him to. Bold of you, honestly, but he’s an honest kid.
You already buried your face into your pillow after school the day you gave him your number, but you were feeling bold. And the request wasn’t disingenuous — you did need some music recommendations.
You scrolled through the Spotify playlist and smiled.
oh baby — LCD Soundsystem
Hunnybee — Unknown Mortal Orchestra
Little Wing — Jimi Hendrix
Sleepwalking (Couples Only Dance Prom Night) — Modest Mouse
Dreams Tonite — Alvvays
Dreams — Fleetwood Mac
Time to Pretend — MGMT
I Ran (So Far Away) — A Flock Of Seagulls
Goodbye Horses — Q Lazzarus
All I Wanna Do — The Beach Boys
PRIDE. — Kendrick Lamar
Biking (Solo) — Frank Ocean
Thirteen -- Big Star
Heroes — David Bowie
Peter is sweating, to say the least. If anything, sending a crush a playlist felt like third base to him. It didn’t help that you were nonstop invading his mind, from the curve of your lips to the color of your eyes, to the way your hips swayed while you walked to the small bruises on your kneecaps. Sometimes he wishes the encounter from when he was driving never happened because it would certainly save him all this trouble — noticing you and memorizing you and now awaiting your responses to his subpar music taste. God, he should’ve at least stalked your Spotify playlist or something first. What if you thought the playlist was pure shit?
(Y/N): love these so much. thank you <3
(Y/N): yes! these songs are really sweet
peter: i mean i hoped you liked them that’s why i picked them
peter: not like they had any unconscious meaning or anything
peter: like i'm not really a lyrics guy i was
peter: guessing songs you might’ve liked based on vibes???
peter: sry i'm rambling
(y/n): no i love these in every aspect
(y/n): i’ll def return the favor if you don’t mind being subjected to my weird taste
peter: oh please!
peter: i mean, please send me any music my way
peter: you probably have good judgment when it comes to music
peter: you’re probably like the coolest person in our class
Peter freezes, realizing what he had just sent. Did he really just send that? It wasn’t like he could take it back, because for one, he just sent it, second, there was no way he could revoke the statement without seeming like an asshole. Shit.
He types something else but backspaces and knocks his head against his pillow. His ears perk up when his phone vibrates.
(y/n): nawww, you’re def the coolest
You’re in your bedroom biting your lip. Did you really just say that? To Peter Parker?
peter: would you want to like, hang out after decathlon practice tomorrow?
Your eyes are wide. You can’t help the weird vibrations in your body. You realize this is the first attention you’ve gotten at Midtown that actually feels important to you. Feelings that you recriprocate.
(y/n): as long as i get to pick the tunes and the afternoon snack, parker
Peter can’t help but grin. The look on his face will probably be plastered on his face forever.
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