in which: you're nominated as "best new artist" for the 2026 grammy awards and gets seated beside the one and only, Bad Bunny
note: i have never posted a fanfic here on tumblr (i usually post on wattpad) but BRO I NEED BAD BUNNY SO BAD IT'S NOT EVEN A JOKE ANYMORE. also i think us seablings need more fanfic representation 😔✊ beware: google translate spanish 😬 english is not my first language
tags: bad bunny x southeast asian!fem!reader, artist reader, awkward benito, age gap, implied height difference, fan reader, proud southeast asian, crying like a lot, benito is a gentleman, wholesome, usage of y/n
HAVING A song or two go viral on tiktok was one thing, but getting nominated a grammy? and for "best new artist"? now that is a whole different level. you used to only upload song covers on youtube when you were still in college, stopping briefly once you graduated to work and support your family. then out of boredom, you decided to write original songs, producing it yourself, and uploading it on your channel. you already had a solid fanbase back then, but more people appreciated you more with your original songs and unique sound.
your songs are written and sung in your native language and the instrumental is played by a traditional instrument that you knew how to play by heart. the song went viral locally at first, with people doing make-up transitions dressed in traditional attire. then it spread all over southeast asia. people were starting to discover more of your music, engrossed not only by your beautiful voice and sound of your country, but also the message that you put in it. people loved how you incorporated social and political issues in your music, you served as the voice for those who cannot speak.
many record labels wanted to sign with you, locally and internationally. as tempting as their offers were, promising you of instant fame, you knew just how much you're going to need to sacrifice for that. and you're not risking it, not your sanity, not your heritage. so you stayed independent. it was hard at first, the next songs you put out wasn't gaining the recognition it deserves. it's as if the rich cursed you for rejecting them. but that didn't stop you.
you continued on releasing new songs until one day, you received an invitation for a collaboration with a famous artist in your country. and that was the start of your stardom. after a year, you became well known in different parts of the world thanks to your people. and somehow, you got lucky enough to get nominated for "best new artist" in the most prestigious music awards in the industry, the grammys.
that's how you ended up in los angeles. in the middle of the crypto.com arena, feeling small in the world of giants. you adorned a beautiful gown that captures the traditional clothing of your country mixed with modern style. and currently, you're trying to squeeze your way to your seat. "excuse me..." you muttered as you maneuvered through the sea of black suits and expensive gowns.
you curse under your breath, frustrated that you're getting nowhere. you accepted defeat and swallowed your pride, turning to a staff member to ask for guidance. "oh, you're..." the staff looked at you up and down, making you a bit conscious. after scrutinizing you for a whole minute, he nodded his head and said, "follow me."
you muttered incoherent 'thank you's to him, in english and in your language. you sigh a breath of relief as he guided you, anticipating where you're seated. you're pretty sure they uploaded the seating arrangement somewhere on social media, but you didn't dare to spoil yourself, for the thrill!
your walk with the staff seemed to go on forever. you expected to sit at the very back, but you both walked past it. okay, maybe the middle then? but no, he walked past it too. you were starting to panic, thinking if he forgot that you were even with him. you were starting to get closer to the stage and it didn't help calm your nerves. "um, he—" "here." you stop, completely speechless. he guided you all the way to the front. you're seating at the front! near the stage! where the cameras can see you!
"um... are you sure?" you ask, voice wavering. "yes, there. you sit over there," he enunciates every word, as if you didn't understand english. "i— i understand you but... should i be sitting at the very front?" you ask again, and you were pretty sure the man was starting to get annoyed. "there," he repeats, pointing at the table in the middle. you look over to where he was pointing and your breath hitched. before you could clarify again, the staff had already left, leaving you and your nerves alone.
no way... no way i'm sitting with bad bunny. you're not sure if you wanted to attend the awarding anymore. especially if you're sitting beside bad bunny. you look back, trying to find a way out but the arena was starting to flood with more artists and guests. you had no choice but to accept your fate. you're here for the grammy, the country, and your family. you chanted in your head, trying to steer away from the thought of sitting beside your biggest celebrity crush.
you sneaked your way to the table. thankfully, he was busy talking to a fellow artist. but as you moved your chair, it was as if the whole arena collectively decided to suddenly shut up for a good ten seconds and embarass you in front of benito antonio martínez ocasio. the creak of the chair made you cringe so hard you swear everyone heard it. you didn't want to look at benito, you really didn't want to, but your eyes just had to betray you. through your peripheral vision, you could see him staring at you with a confused expression.
"sorry," you awkwardly gave him a tightlipped smile as you slowly sit down on your chair. he only nodded, to which you reciprocated. it took you a while to get acquainted with the overwhelming aura of the arena. artists of different ethnicities and nationalities are gathered in one big room, networking like a bunch of businessmen and women for possible future collaborations. it felt like you were the only one not mingling. who would even try? most of these people probably don’t even know who you are. they’d think you’re a fan that got lucky, a plus one bought by someone more famous.
suddenly, you felt your phone buzzing in your purse. you quickly fetched it to see the lockscreen displaying a video call from your mother. you scrambled through the small purse for your airpods, connecting it to your phone. once the call connected, you could see your parents and siblings trying to fit themselves in the small frame of your mother’s phone. they shouted your name excitedly, overlapping each other’s voices. “how are you doing over there?” your mother asks. you smiled softly and spoke in your native language, “i’m doing fine, ma.” “where are you seated? will we see you on the t.v.?” your father asked, smiling wildly at the thought of seeing his daughter on international television. “that’s a secret,” you teased, chuckling softly at their playful whines.
you continued to converse with your family as quiet as possible when someone announced that the broadcast will go live in fifteen minutes. “ah, i have to go. the awarding will start in fifteen,” you informed them. your siblings gave their goodlucks and goodbyes before going to their separate activities. only your mother and father were left in the video call. “dear… look at where you are now,” your father started, teary eyed. you huffed out a laugh, you knew where this is going and it’s going to ruin your make-up. “we want you to remember that this is not about whether you win or not,” your mother added, “it’s about the journey you took to get where you are.” you could feel the tears prickle the corner of your eyes but you try to stop it. as much as you’re touched by their message, you can’t ruin your make-up for when you do win. “just know that… we are very proud of you,” she finished her message and you can already see the tears running down her cheeks. “mom, dad…” you mumbled, your own tears clouding your vision. “oh, god.” your parents let out a laugh and wiped their tears. “save the tears for the stage, dear,” your father said. you chuckled, fanning yourself in hopes to stop the tears from falling, “i will.” and with that, after a few minutes of goodbyes, you finally hang up.
hiding your phone back to your purse, you suddenly realized that you’re at an awarding. talking to your family felt like you were back in your home country. maybe you just missed it so much, your family and your home. you tried to look for a tissue or a handkerchief that might be hiding in your purse. you curse under your breath, you forgot to bring one and your tears are threatening to fall and stain your face. just as you were going to give up, a hand holding a handkerchief appeared in your field of vision. you looked up and saw the bad bunny offering you his handkerchief. you stuttered, completely flustered at his actions, “i— are you— you don’t have to.” you tried to refuse, face heating up in embarrassment. “it looks like you’re crying,” he states, pushing the handkerchief to you. “no, this is— i’m not, i’m not really crying.” you wish you could burry yourself six-feet underground with how much you’re stuttering in front of a global superstar. “te entiendo. take it,” was what he last said before turning to the stage as the lights dimmed.
you stare at the cloth in your hands, absolutely starstruck that bad bunny had given you his handkerchief. you carefully wiped the corner of your eyes, catching a whiff of his perfume. and oh, this is exactly how you imagined him to smell like. you didn't even notice that your hand was still hovering over your eye... but your eyes are closed... and you probably look like a creep secretly sniffing bad bunny's handkerchief. thankfully, everyone was busy paying attention with the event so no one noticed it.
you enjoyed the first half of the awarding, swaying to the music, clapping for the winners. you even got to talk to some artists, surprised that they knew your music. some are even surprised to know you're the artist behind the trending audios on tiktok. you thought you wouldn't fit right in. you didn't grew up in u.s.a., you're not that fluent in english, and yet here you are. mingling among stars that you only admired from afar.
talking about admiring from afar though... you barely talked to bad bunny. well, not that you have the balls to talk to him. being seatmates with him is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you can't gather up the courage to start a conversation. although, at some point during awarding he did ask you something...
"where... did you come from?" he asked, startling you from your starstruck gaze at the stage. "me?" you ask back, pointing at yourself. "sí," he nodded. you turned your chair to face him properly, trying to hide your excitement and answered his question. "you're nominated?" he asked once more. you nodded, a bit too enthusiastically, "yes! for 'best new artist'." benito hummed, "good luck." he then gave you a sly smirk before turning back to the stage. you could feel how hot your face is in contrast to the blaring air-conditioning of the arena and you wish he didn't notice how flustered you are. but that didn't matter because you felt like that short conversation made you closer to benito.
finally, the awards that everyone has been waiting for finally arrived. the big 4. your heart was pounding so hard that you could hear it through your ears. you could feel the anticipation of your family from across the globe, the weight of your country, the hope of your people. it's okay if you don't win, you got nominated and that's what matters, you keep reminding yourself but deep inside, you can't help but hope for the best.
chappell roan walks to the stage and you're already bouncing your feet in excitement. she's going to be announcing the winner for 'best new artist', as if the anticipation wasn't enough to put adrenaline through your veins. she goes ahead and introduces the nominees one by one. when you were mentioned, benito glanced at you with a smile. it calmed you a bit, so you returned his sweet gesture.
the introduction of the nominees made you realize just who you're competing with. you didn't stand a chance. the realization hurt you but at the same time it relieved you. this might be the first and last time you get to join a prestigious event and you just wanted to enjoy it 'till the very last minute.
"as selected by the fifteen-thousand voting members of the recording academy..." chappell roan started. everyone was cheering and you were literally on the edge of your seat. "the grammy goes to..." she opened the envelope. your hands were already in position, ready to clap for whoever the winner is. "olivia dean." you sigh. was it from relief? disappointment? you weren't quite sure.
your shoulder feels lighter now that the anticipation is gone, but somehow your heart feels heavier than before. it's undeniable that a part of you hoped to win. then again, it's never that easy. your body didn't listen to your mind as your eyes started to get blurry. no, you told yourself. you're not going to cry just because you lost.
you quickly grabbed the handkerchief in your purse. but before you could even stop it, you felt the wet tears on your cheeks. "oh no," you mumbled. you dabbed the cloth gently on your cheeks, careful as ever not to ruin your make-up. you then felt a warm hand rest on your back. you didn't need to look up to know who it was. benito's thumb caressed your spine while he looked straight at the stage, sending electric signals through your whole body.
you couldn't help but chuckle. you found your situation laughable. it's like, your whole time at the grammys was nothing but embarrassing yourself in front of big stars. and benito was the last person you expect to comfort you like this. he is the hope of the latin community, and you were just... a tiktok trend. and yet here he is, offering his handkerchief, lending his hand to comfort you. you're just a lucky fan.
once the cheering has settled down and all of you are seated, you scoot your chair closer to benito. “thank you,” you started, capturing the attention of the latino. “for this…” you held the handkerchief up. “… and that.” you gestured at his hand that are now resting on his lap. he stared at you for a while, studying you. then he spoke, “de nada. i’m just helping out a fellow artist.” you nodded in understanding. “i’ll return your handkerchief. don’t worry,” you added. if i’m lucky enough to get back here. benito silently laughed, his shoulders bouncing lightly. “está bien. you can keep it.” you felt your heart flutter at how cool he seemed.
“no please. my conscience wouldn’t let me if i just go home with bad bunny’s handkerchief. i feel like i don’t deserve it,” you awkwardly bit your lip. that must’ve been the longest thing you’ve said to him tonight. he dipped his head slightly back to face you, and you thought that’s the most attractive thing he’s ever done. “it’s fine really. don’t worry about it.” before you could even respond, harry styles had already appeared on stage. it was time for the most anticipated and final award of the night, the album of the year.
nominees are introduced and you could practically feel benito’s nervousness radiate off of him. “i think your album is the best one,” you whisper to him, thinking it’d calm his nerves. he whispered a thank you back and kept his eyes glued on the stage. you let out a huff as you gaze at his back. you listened to bad bunny’s music a lot, you could say you’re a fan, despite it being in a language you don’t understand. but his music alone was enough for you to feel it, regardless of language. “and the grammy goes to…” harry styles’ voice snapped you back to reality. your heart was beating so fast, as if you’re one of the nominees… or maybe it’s because you’re nervous for benito too.
harry styles opened the envelope and wasted no time annoucing it, “bad bunny: DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS.” cheers and claps louder than ever filled the whole arena. you clapped so hard you’re sure it’s gonna sting the next day. benito on the other hand, was still sitting, wiping his tears, and processing the fact that he just won ‘album of the year’ as his song, DtMF, was playing on the background.
you felt bold and decided to lend him a comforting hand, caressing his back like he did for you. you felt some eyes drift towards you, they must’ve been confused as to who you are touching the star of the night like that, but you didn’t care. all you care about was wanting to reciprocate the kindness he gave you. once he stood up, he gave you a slight bow of gratitude before walking up to the stage. you pursed your lips as you watch him, the emotions surging through you and at some point, the camera panned to you dabbing your face with benito’s handkerchief.
benito gave a beautiful speech in spanish, dedicating it to his people and country, thanking God, his family, and the people who believed in him. then, he switched to english, “i wanna dedicate this award… to all the people who had to leave their homeland, their country, to follow their dreams.” you sniffed, his message resonating with you. he continued his speech, sending a beautiful message to every latinos. once he finished, his eyes drifted to you. he lifted his award, his gaze not leaving you.
once he’s back in his seat, many artists near you congratulated benito, leaving you no choice but to set yourself aside. when you saw an opening, you scooted beside him again. “congratulations, um…” you trailed off, unsure of what to call him. “benito,” he said, giving you permission to call him by his first name. “right, benito… uh, that was amazing, by the way. you’re amazing, like, always. i knew you’d win,” you blabbered so much you wish you could just tape your own mouth shut. “congratulations to you too, (y/n).” the way your name rolled off his tongue made you weak in the knees. you were gaping at him in surprise. he chuckles at your expression, holding out a finger to your chin and gently closing your mouth, “be careful. a mosquito might fly inside.” your eyes widen. how many times am i going to embarrass myself in front of him?
“here.” he pushes the trophy over to you. “what?” you look at him, bewildered. “tócalo,” he simply stated. you only stared at him, patiently waiting for a translation which he didn’t give. he only nodded, pointing at the gramophone. you shook your head, completely not understanding what he meant. “you flew all the way here. you could at least touch the trophy, no?” he finally clarified. “oh…” you stared at the award in front of you. you were so close in bringing one home, yet it was out of your reach. benito is right, you drained all your savings just to attend an awarding with no guarantee of winning. the least you could do is touch the trophy that you could only dream of having.
you finally touched the cold metal, sending shivers down your spine. your tears were resurfacing once again. gulping the lump forming in your throat, you look up at through blurry eyes. you wanted to thank him for all the things he’s done tonight. he barely knew you— heck, you’re not even in his level and yet… and yet he took great care of you. a woman with big dreams who just got lucky. you finally opened your quivering mouth, speaking in your own language, “thank you.”
end note: hi lol. i feel like this is so unnecessarily long 😭😭 anyw, i hope yall liked it because im not used to writing one shots lolol. im only used to writing slowburn fanfic so maybe that’s why this barely had any romance in it, so sorry if yall aren’t satisfied 😔✊
drunkbf!joaquin torres showing up at your doorstep at 2 in the morning?!
minors, do not interact!! 18+ post
a/n: i’m back from my 2 year hiatus wtf 😭 anyways hope yall enjoy this fic cuz it’s my first time posting smut! BUTTTT YEAH, my reqs are open and i have more coming soon. trust me.
you couldn’t remember the last time you had a goodnight rest after that whole ordeal with the government and almost being in a war that didn’t even start. it honestly hurt deep in your soul to see joaquin being shot out the damn sky and seeing him plummet down into the ocean.
on top of that, the hospital visits here and there to check if he was doing okay were nonstop; you just cared too much to let him go.
and here you were, tossing and turning in your sleep because you were worried about him, not knowing how he was doing at the bar and how well his friends were taking care of him. you didn’t like to admit it but you were overprotective of him, and hell, you’d go to the ends of hell for joaquin.
before you could almost drift off to counting sheep, there was a heavy knock at your front door— which alarmed you immediately, getting up to check the cameras and it was joaquin. your boyfriend.
he seemed out of it and needy. ( as per usual )
without thinking for a damn second, you ran out of your bed and opened the door for him, his body immediately melting into your arms as he towered over you, slamming the door behind the both of you.
“hi, sweetheart.” he mumbled into you, slipping off his boots as his lips found its way to your jawline, giving you sloppy wet kisses. “hi, pretty boy. how was— the bar?” you paused in between your sentence, a bit surprised with how his hands tightly gripped onto your waist, slightly hissing at the pressure. “it was good, really good.” he continued to trail his kisses down to your neck, his hands still on your hips. “jump for me,” he whispered, his hands now moving down to your ass to hold you.
and best believe you jumped into his arms while you wrapped your legs around him as he slowly began making his way towards your bedroom, gently laying you down onto the mattress. “missed you so much, you have no fuckin’ clue, baby.” he grabbed your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bed as he tugged off your shorts, his lips immediately kissing your inner thighs, taking in your organic scent.
“joaquin…” you sat up, your fingers finding his hair and pulling on it slightly. “please let me eat you out, y/n.” he pleaded, looking up at you with glossy eyes. “you can, baby.” letting go of his hair, you laid back down on the bed.
not wasting a second, he threw your panties across the room and slowly worked up to your wet pussy, first kissing your inner thighs before making out your clit, his fingers teasing your folds and entrance, using your arousal fluid as a lubricant to slowly ease his way inside with his fingers.
he was pumping at a slow pace while he was still kissing away at your pussy, making you weak in the knees already, your legs were almost at its shutting point, struggling to keep em’ spread but the way his shoulders were propped against you was making it impossible to even do so.
“fuck, what a good boy…” you whimpered, biting down on your lip softly while he was still going at it, your praise being his cue to go a bit faster and messier with his antics.
which… just brought you closer to the edge honestly.
“say that again, sweetheart.” he begged, his nose covered with your fluid as he was mumbling into your pussy. “you’re being such a good boy for me, joaquin.” you said, your legs locking around him once you started to pulse, your stomach tightening when his fingers curled up inside you, his fingertips hitting that spot.
“come for me, y/n.” he whimpered, his face pulling away while his fingers were still curled up inside you, waiting until your walls loosened up against him.
and like that, you came onto his fingers and he was quick to clean you up with his mouth. his words afterwards being nothing but affirming.
summary : you find peter angrily training by himself.
warnings : fic MENTIONS spoilers for no way home && MENTIONS blood and death a wee bit. do NOT read if you havent seen nwh and if you aren’t comfortable with said topics.
a/n: switches to 2nd and 3rd pov but doesn’t change the style too much! :)
word count : 1.5k+ MY BIGGEST YET !!! got carried away. OKAY, have fun reading! send requests and i’ll write them <3 also got two fics coming up hehe
after dr. stranges spell, he was furious with himself. he hated the fact how he was forced to forget you and his friends.
all he wanted to do was run into your arms and kiss you. that’s all he wanted. unfortunately, he couldn’t; the presence that he once had was certainly gone because of something he decided to do.
everyday he breathed air was a reminder that you were no longer in the grasp of his arms. he could no longer kiss you to sleep whenever you had a hard time falling asleep.
he was your forte. and your reason to keep on pushing.
god, peter had felt worthless without his close circle. he had to get his anger out somehow. i mean, who was suppose to bottle in the feeling of losing his aunt and his close friends in a close time span?
without a single thought, his fist aimed for the matted material, hitting his knuckles against it as the punching bag jerked back, the chain rattling each time he did.
each punch was a feeling he held inside— one for his aunt, one for you, one for mj and one of ned. each fuckin’ time his knuckles dug into the training equipment was a reminder of how much he was pathetic. at least to himself.
nor’ did he have any gloves to protect his hands. he didn’t care at this point, not caring how much his hands bled from his harsh punches.
hell, his tears threatened to spill out from his puffed up eyes. you could already tell he’s been having a tough time, hence, finding him connecting his fist to the bricked wall behind him.
[y/n] furrowed her eyebrows together, seeing him let out a couple of weak grunts as she grabbed a clean damp towel, approaching the male who seemed irregular than ever.
seeing you made him freeze in his spot, his eyes slightly widening to the fact that you approached him first. he knew you came here regularly, training yourself just in case something horrible had happen to you in the middle of the streets.
so, he signed up for a membership and began training and tracking your schedule for whenever you came. 6pm on the dot always. if anything, he would even catch the moon for you.
“hi, i know it’s not my place but i couldn’t help but notice your knuckles… they’re, uh, bleeding?” your voice was soft spoken, your eyes pointing at his knuckles, the dried blood latching onto his skin. “can i?” you continued, holding out the damp towel to him. “i… yeah,”
most of his words were caught in his throat as he held out his knuckles to you, his eyes focused on your facial features. you were still beautiful as ever to him— the way your lips looked, and the way your eyes were soft everytime they were hyperfixiated.
your lips curled into a small smile, softly pressing the towel onto his knuckles as it picked up the blood, swiping it with a low pressure to wash away the dried blood, but not too much to injur him.
peter winced, sucking the air between his teeth quietly as the fabric made impact with his open cuts, causing him to bite down onto his lips.
[y/n] chuckled softly, feeling bad about his pain but she couldn’t help but giggle at his foolish decisions. “sorry, but maybe next time wear gloves? they help a lot, i promise.” you suggested, wiping his knuckles one last time before folding the towel and pushing his hands down in a soft manner.
there it was again. this was the reason why he had fallen in love with you in the first place. you were always soft and caring to everyone, even if you barely even knew them.
“thanks again, but uh— it didn’t cross my mind to wear gloves. i guess i was heated in the moment? can’t really explain what i was thinking.” peter took one more glance at his knuckles before meeting with your eyes again, this time, his face softening with yours.
“no problem, but can i wrap them up for you? i wouldn’t want your hands getting infected.” you suggested, turning your back to another part of the gym as you started walking, not giving him a chance to deny your offer. “i wouldn’t want to give you too much work— oh, uh… okay!” he nervously followed you behind, keeping a safe distance between you two.
he had a soft blush on his face, not being able to contain the fluttering in his heartbeat each second he looked at you.
as you finally approached your gym bag, you dug in there until you found your packed med kit, placing it on the ground as you opened it, hearing the click. “always bring this with me just in case someone got hurt,” you mumbled to him, searching for an alcohol wipe for his open cut.
he knew you did, but couldn’t bring up the fact that he was aware of it already.
“really? wow, you seem really sweet.” he softly grinned at your comment, his heartbeat becoming faster as he saw you get up, tearing the packet open. “thank you, i would hope i am.” you laughed at his remark, cleaning his knuckles with the wipe. “oh, sorry! forgot to warn you!” quietly gasping to yourself, you felt his body tense up from the sudden stinging spreading throughout his cut.
“n-no, you’re fine! it’s just an alcohol wipe, no biggie.” he mumbled, his body returning to its original state. “yeah but again, it hurts— i mean, the stinging pain is no fun.” you sighed, going back to your bag to grab the bandages that was nearby the med kit.
“right but maybe i should be used by this feeling now… i keep finding myself hurt.” peter flexed his hand, feeling the muscles pull as you tilted your head in confusion. “by training! because, um, i rarely bring my boxing gloves.” he quickly caught himself before you could question him, forgetting that you used to know his secret identity.
“oh? maybe you should approach me often. i’ll patch you up for free… i’d hate to see you hurt.” you unwrapped the adhesive bandage, circling the adhesive around his knuckles and around his fingers.
he let out a breathy chuckle, watching you tear the bandage and attaching it to the side of his hand. “i’ll take up on your offer, i guess i should be more aware though.” smiling to himself, he pressed his hands onto his sides.
“yaknow, i can’t help but fathom myself onto why you seem… so familar to me. have i seen you outside this gym?” [y/n] arched an eyebrow up, packing up her stuff as she zipped the bag closed.
peter couldn’t help but to nervously smile, scratching the back of his neck. there was no way you remembered, right? but again, he did visit the coffee shop you picked up shifts at. “the coffee shop not too far from here… you work there, right?” he responded, looking down to see you getting your stuff together.
“yeah, i do! forgot that this street is mostly filled with regulars!” you snickered, throwing the bag up to hold it on your shoulder.
you get a flashback of to you giving him coffee everyday, writing his name down on each cup sleeve. “peter, right?” you finally said his name.
and that just sent a million sparks inside him, feeling his knees be frail on spot. you had actually remember his name. “yeah, that’s me. peter parker, and, uh…” he paused for a moment, closing his eyes to try and remembering your name tag you had pinned to your shirt. “[y/n], isn’t that correct?” peter snapped his fingers when he finally remembered.
of course he did, but had to play it cool— man, this was going to be hard. having to fake everything because he didn’t forget anything about you.
“[y/n], [y/n] [l/n] to be exact.” you flashed a charming smile, holding out your hand for him to shake.
“it’s a pleasure to finally talk to you, [y/n].” his smile returned back, his hand barely curling as you two shook hands, gently.
fuck, it was so nice to actually say your name in front of you. your name rolling off his tongue perfectly.
“yeah, the pleasures mine!” you nodded, quickly checking your watch as you saw the time.
your eyes had widened, recalling that you had a friend hangout with mj and ned. “oh, gosh— i have to go, so sorry!” you exclaimed, taking one last look at him.
“wait! can i… get your number before you leave?” he blurted out, rushing to whip out his phone, opening up his contacts list. “for sure! you’ll have to text me later though!” you inclined, typing in your digits as you even inserted your name, pressing ‘done’ once you had finished.
“b-bye! text you later!” he watched you leave, hearing the bell ring as you fixed your clothes, speed-walking to the place you had to be.
just as always, he knew the time you arrived back home. 9:30pm, sometimes 9:50pm if you were at a restaurant with your friends.
as hours passed, you reached to your doormat and immediately heard a ‘ding!’ sound coming from your phone, and just to your surprise.
it was peter, peter parker.
looking at the unknown number for a second, you quickly changed it to his name, following along with a special emoji.
thank you for reading until the end! i know i keep bugging about it but SEND in your requests and reblog this post! it helps me a lot and makes me happy.
pairing : peter parker x reader | peter parker x f!reader | peter parker x female!reader | peter parker x fem!reader | peter parker x y/n | peter parker x you
prompt : peter’s laptop dies while you two were doing a very important project for a class. ( from https://perchance.org/otp--prompts ) safe link! /srs
word count : 393, very short!
a/n : can be any mcu peter, but i’ll be using tom’s 🤍. also, feel free to submit me a prompt with any character! i’d love to get back in writing and fulfilling your requests. love u all!
drabble below the read more cut, enjoy loves!
as you two were doing a project for this class, it practically ended up with both of y’all arguing— only because peter wouldn’t listen to you and placed notes everywhere. they weren’t organized and it kind of ticked you off.
“no, idiot! that’s supposed to go here!” you exclaimed, pushing peter off of his seat as you took the laptop from his hands, moving the cursor to where you placed the text box to where it was supposed to be. “[y/n]!”
he scoffed, getting back up from his seat as he took his laptop back, scanning over the newly designed slides. “it looks the same as before… are you kidding me?” peter rolled his eyes, noticing how his cursor was lagging behind.
this only meant one thing.
it meant that his laptop was about to die and their slides weren’t going to backup any of the info they had worked hard on. “oh, shit!”
he began panicking, jumping off of his seat as he started to rummage through his bag, obviously worried that their process was going down the drain if he didn’t find the charger.
your face dropped into an expression as you ran to your room, going through your closet as you looked for a specific charger, throwing down some old boxes just to find the right plug.
“where is it?!” mumbling to yourself, you panicked as well, not wanting your hard work to fail only because peter forgot to charge his laptop AND turn on his backup savings.
finally, you found it! thank goodness.
“peter, i have it!” you exclaimed, having a large grin on your face as you rushed back to the area, only to see a defeated look on his face. it was too late to come to the rescue.
“no way…”
“yes way…” he sighed, shutting his laptop slowly as he placed his head down onto the cold counter. “well… you shared the slides with me, right?”
you had this burning hope that he had at least shared it with you. i mean, everyone does that when you end up in a project with your classmate, right?
peter still had a defeated look, shaking his head as he sighed out loud, even adding a groan.
it was over for you two.
“for fucks sake…” you sighed as well, throwing the charger onto the couch. “we’re totally fucked.”
summary : you find yourself in a shit position— which is… almost meeting death.
warnings : mentions of pills & self harm— & one mention of nigari.
spoilers : please do not continue reading if you haven’t finished alice in ( the ) boarderland s2 yet! ( under rewriting cuz tumblr deleted half my stuff… )
line divider by : 🫀 !
it was not only that, but you knew you had to win this game— for a fighting chance at love, and for a chance to have friends that meant a lot to you.
mira kano had only one goal, which was to make you forfeit the game— so you couldn’t find the truth, and never return to your world. and you had to admit, she had the skill to make you feel like you never existed; perhaps it was a perk of her being a physicalist. she knew the way around the human body, aka the mind.
no matter how hard you wanted to focus on croquet, she had questions after questions— that targeted towards you and your brother.
“karube left me…” your eyes watered, looking down to see your hands already fidgeting with themselves.
“and how does that make you feel, [y/n]? how did you feel when your big brother left you? to fend for yourself?” mira always had this comforting voice, which compelled you even more to reply to her nonsense.
it wasn’t like he actually left you… one day, you two were playing a game until he had gone his separate way due to the king of spades massive shoot-out. and so, you never saw him again— but he still wanted to protect you, right?
you kept quiet, feeling your eyes water as she slided the pills towards you, following up with a cup of water. “this’ll make you feel better… why don’t you take this and then answer me?” she kept on persisting on you and arisu to take the pills, but usagi didn’t like the idea of that. she knew what mira was trying to do; make you two forfeit so you could lose the game. “you guys, snap out of it! she’s trying to trick you both into forfeiting! please!” usagi yelled, shaking the two of you.
“no— i… it’s true though. maybe he doesn’t actually care about me.. the pills will make me feel better, right?” your eyes darted towards the pills, your hands reaching for them but an abrupt slapped them away from your touch. “[y/n], you can’t! please— come back to me. look at me and tell me that you’re here… with us, with me!”
usagi grabbed your hands, looking up to you— “[y/n]…” she whispered into a crying sob, looking over at arisu who was currently on the floor. “i know you want to escape, [y/n]… just say you quit and you can be free. you may not even be real…” the queen of hearts surely had a way with her words, to the point where it was truely believable to the human mind.
snapping back to reality, you saw usagi holding a piece of glass, placing it near her wrist. “usagi—” your sentence was cut off by her swift movement cutting her wrist to prove that this was real. “usagi!” you yelled, catching her into your arms as you softly placed her on the ground, your lap as a pillow for her head. “just win this for me and arisu… i want the chance to shop at the mall with you, do our taxes together, and maybe when do mountain climbing…” as each second grew, her voice declined more into a little rasp. this is when you knew you had to win, for them.
“i still want to play, mira! i want to do the last round!” within a heartbeat, you stood up holding the croquet stick. “as you wish,” her lips quivered into a small smile, holding hers straight.
positioning yourself, you aimed your stick towards one of the ball so it could enter through the little hoops, and to your success it did. and as said, the game would go on for about 3 hours— which meant… you made it towards the end. you finally beat the final face game. the queen of hearts.
even so, listening to her goodbye speech made you realize something… life was too short, and it was sure risk taking. in addition to that, there were two choices— to either decline or accept staying in the current world you were in.
as caption obvious, you all said decline. you wanted to go to your world that you could see all your friends, but possibly, not see your current ones that you trusted as of now. it was apart of the choice though, to take that chance.
you rushed down the building, sprinting your way towards chishiya, ignoring nigari ( BOOO, 🍅 ). “hey, you actually did it.” his lips curled into a smirk, his eyes squinting at the bright light. “please shut up and just fucking decline the offer, shuntaro.” you held onto his hand, still looking over at his wound. he let out a little chuckle, tightening the grip onto your hold. “i decline,”
chishiya pulled you closer, letting you lean on his chest with ease. but everything felt weird as the fireworks went off, and it ended off with you dozing off and ending up in a new place. your world, that you all knew.
“[y/n], come!” your friends called you over, waving at this outside cafe area. “coming!” you yelled back, jogging over to see their smiles. “so, did you hear? kai’s university was struck down by a meteor… and thank god he’s still beside us!” one of them spoke, but it seemed like another thing was catching their attention.
“you mean that one…?”
and that’s a wrap! like for part 2 :) cuz’ this definitely took a long time and now i have courage to write for aib! remember to request a specific asks if you have one— for a quick reminder, i do write for marvel, aib, and some anime’s.
bruh i gave up cuz tumblr DELETED HALF MY PARAFRAPHS 😭 this is all y’all get IM SO SORRY
can you write a fic about yachi maybe some angst to comfort but it has to have comfort at the end !
— hanahaki, yachi.
wsp y’all!! haven’t been here for a while :) can’t wait to get back into writing <33 also, been wanting to write more kpop one shots :o and still marvel ofc! lmk what y’all want next by submitting in my inbox.
UNDER RE WRITING CUZ BITCH ASS TMBLR 😭 i know there’s repeats in this
pair : yachi x fem!reader ( men dni plsss )
“[y/n], there’s this manager in my volleyball and she’s just… so pretty. i think i like her,” her bright voice lit up the room, but for you? oh, you were aching so bad.
you felt nothing but this aching pain in this heart, your throat feeling like there was something stuck in there. simply, your heart was heart because of her.
“that’s great, yachi… but excuse me. i’m gonna use the restroom,” giving a quick smile, you ran to the bathroom, shutting it behind you.
‘shit!’
your heart was racing each second, your hands clutching your chest.
why did she have to like another person, other than you?
“shit, shit, shit—” you mumbled, facing yourself towards the toilet as you began to cough; but it was unusual. the object that came out of you were flowers? but, they were lillies. which resembled a lost loved one, normally they were used for death but losing yachi felt like death to you.
“[y/n]? are you okay?” yachi knocked on the door, putting her ear against the door. “uh, yeah! i’m okay… just cleaning up.” you lied through your teeth, flushing the toilet as you washed yourself up.
opening the door, you were greeted by a concerned yachi. “i heard you coughing a lot… just wanted to check up on you.” her hands placed on your shoulder, rubbing them softly. “i’m fine, trust me…” you pushed her hands off, giving her a fake smile.
❦
“could you help me out today? volleyball is taking an off day, we kinda need it…” you and yachi were beside each other, walking towards the city bus stop. “sure! but aren’t you suppose to help kageyama and hinata?” you questioned, sitting down.
“i was suppose to, but they’re busy with a team dinner.”
“you aren’t going?”
“no, i’d rather stay in and catch up on grades…” she looked gloomy, more than usual. “what’s wrong?” you threw an arm around her, giving her an assuring pat. “it’s kiyoko… i think she likes tanaka.”
yk per se, you were quite happy that kiyoko possibly likes tanaka— but again, you’re suppose to be yachi’s friend, and actually comfort the poor girl.
“hey, it’s gonna be okay… people are going to move on, and plus, she missed out on a huge deal. you’re so perfect, and you deserve the most perfect partner ever,” you whispered, comforting her. “you really think so, [y/n]?” she wiped her tears, looking up to meet your eyes. “i really do think so, yachi. you’ll find someone soon…”
and you wished that ‘someone’ was you. but beggers can’t be choosers, sadly.
♡
“here, wrap this around you.” your hands grazed against her shoulders, placing the coat around her body. “thank you, but what about you?” questioning, her head turned towards you— it was cute, seeing her nose and cheeks with a pink tint. “i’ll be okay! i’m gonna have to leave in a bit anyways. i got practice in a bit!” you giggled, balancing your weight on the arms as they were placed on the concrete.
“oh, for what?”
“i play the guitar, yachi. i’m in a band with my friends.”
for some reason, she was shocked— that you had the courage to actually play an instrument, let alone an instrument that requires good finger work and memory. “what’s with that look?” you arched an eyebrow, flicking her forehead. “i’m only shocked because i was wondering why your arms were so… masculine? which i love, of course…” her cheeks grew even more pinker than before, looking away to hide her face.
“well? don’t be shy and kiss me. i’m about to leave, idiot.”
to think of it, it was very bold of you to say, considering the both of you were only in the talking stage, or at least, ‘wanting to be more than friends’ stage. “w-what?”
rolling your eyes, you used your free hand to grab her jaw and pull her lips towards yours, exchanging a spark. she closed her eyes as she became more comfortable within, tugging on your shirt to pull you more closer.
and without words, you pulled away, smiling over at the fact how shy she was being right now. “maybe we can continue this later, see ya.”
hi ziv !! can you do something where tobey’s!spider-man does his daily night vlogging with reader?
Hey Lena! I am so sorry this has taken a while to get up but I get distracted easily and to be fair, Tumblr was being weird. I originally was planning on leaving a cliffhanger but I backed out last minute and chose to do a one-shot instead. Anyways, I hope you enjoy what I wrote for you! <3
a/n: This post is Spider-Man: No Way Home spoiler-free!
Young & A Menace
“Now, I think the camera is working but it’s not showing anything.”
“Oh my god, Peter, how hard can it be?”
The shuffling in the background grew louder and louder as the seconds passed by. Peter struggled to get the camera operational for the couple's daily vlogs. He was a genius who could crawl on walls and beat thugs with a single hand but switching on the camera proved to be a challenge for the young man.
You watched as he continued to struggle.
“I seriously don’t know why this isn’t working…”
Rolling your eyes, you decide to have mercy on him and take the lens off.
“There, now it works!”
Peter checked the camera again and smiled. Turns out, his girlfriend was less of a dimwit than he was. Shaking his head, he lifted the camera, facing both of you, and hit the record button.
“ Hey, people of the world! It’s me, peter, and my favorite person in the world, ” he points in your direction. You smile and wave, “we are currently outside of a supposedly haunted mansion on some spooky island- ”
“ we’re literally near my parent's house, please, don’t lie to the audience.” you teased him.
He rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, we’re a couple of blocks away from their house,” he shoved the camera closer to his face dramatically, “but it’s still a spooky house that is said to be haunted by some people and by people we mean kids we overheard at the grocery store, let's go explore!”
He carried the camera on his shoulder, showing the journey from the front lawn of the abandoned house to the inside of the hallway. The walls were littered with cobwebs, unknown stains, and dust clung to the ceiling. You notice stairs leading to a second floor. Something to investigate later on in the night. No more than a couple of seconds later, the smell of mildew entered your noses.
Your nose scrunched in disgust. The house was clearly filthy and the floorboards creaked with every step. You turn to face the camera.
“You guys can’t smell but the stench is horrendous.”
“That’s not what we’re here for babe-”
“I know, I just want to let them know, it’s a part of the experience.” You walked around, peeking into rooms with peter following closely behind. They were nearly empty, many of the rooms consisting of broken furniture pieces and ripped paintings. The hairs on your arm stood up. The house was definitely creeping you out. Peter was feeling the same way, you notice. He was constantly looking behind him, making sure you both were alone. If it weren't for the little light the camera gave, you’d high-tail it out of there.
“It’s so dark … it’s not this dark outside. “ you hear peter whisper from behind. Taking the lead was a mistake, you think. The leaders are always the first ones to be taken out. The thought made your hands sweaty.
You whisper back. “ shush! I’ll puke on you if you don’t.”
“Told you not to eat the rest of that sandwich but don’t be scared, I'm right behind you.”
You squinted your eyes. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” It was a sweet affirmation but nonetheless, it didn’t change the fact that you’re most likely going to be another ghost roaming around the stinky home for eternity.
“I’m just saying if anything comes out to get you, I’ll be here to protect you.”
You turn to face him with a smirk. “Oh really? Just because you’re Spi-,” His eyes widened, immediately telling you to stop your sentence before you expose his vigilant hobby, “Strong doesn't mean I won’t meet my end to moldy surfaces.” Leaving an emphasis on strong, you awkwardly smile at the camera. What a save.
Suddenly, footsteps are heard from the floor above. Both you and Peter crane your necks’ in order to pinpoint the exact area. The trail leads from a supposed kitchen, the hallway you occupied, then, the stairs that stood near the doorway leading to the front lawn. Whatever or whoever was here knew the house had more guests.
On cue, you meet peter’s petrified eyes. This is it. This is what you were looking for but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t scared shitless. You point your finger above your head and mouth for him to point his camera in the same spot. A chance to gather video evidence of hauntings wouldn't go over your head. It would bring in more views. He hesitates, a little shaken from the noise but ignores the feeling and follows your command. Looks like Spider-Man had one fear, ghosts.
Getting closer to him and the device in his hands, you speak clearly enough for it to capture your voice.
“We’ve been in this house for less than thirty minutes and the activity has just started. Moments before, we heard what sounded like footsteps above us. Peter is going to go and show you.” If it weren’t for his super strength, you’re sure his neck would have snapped with how quickly he turned.
“I’m not going up there, you go!”
The light is on you now, the electronic facing you. Your boyfriend was putting you on the spot. “You’re tonight's reporter and the reporters investigate.” He gave a lopsided grin. He had a point, you decided to take the lead on this vlog while he operated the equipment, the excitement bubbling inside taking over your rational side. You regret the choice.
Nibbling on your lip, you gave in and mentally prepare yourself for the worst. Walking to the set of stairs, you look back at your boyfriend, throwing a dirty look in his direction.
“So much for the hero complex.”
He gave you a thumbs up and waited for you to ascend the staircase. Sucking in a breath, you cautiously took one step at a time. The stairs squeaked under the weight of your feet, making you grow more uneasy. Peter’s presence helped calm your nerves but you were terrified.
At the top of the stairs, the light illuminating your path from the darkness suddenly went out. Like something straight out of a horror movie, you gasp but the strange events didn’t stop there. What seemed like footsteps at first turned into full-on running and it was heading your way. Freezing, you close your eyes and scream at the top of your lungs.
“Peter!” Your mind was telling you to run but your body wouldn’t budge.
Dropping the camera, peter quickly whipped his body in front of yours, crouching in order to pounce the oncoming foe. The running stops but he’s still in a fighting position although the dark proved as an obstacle. All the powers he was granted, yet night-vision wasn’t included in the deal. You stand behind him, shaking and on the verge of tears.
The sound of doors slamming shut startled the brief second of silence. Your eyes shot open. It was useless, confronted with the darkness of the void. You’d have to wait for your eyes to adjust to the dark. Struggling to gather your surroundings, things were clearing up. You look around, noticing you are still glued to the same spot as before, untouched.
“Oh, thank god,” you release a breathe, one you didn't know you were holding. Still, peter is apprehensive about the situation. You’re confused as to why he was staring down an assumingly empty hallway. You wanted to ask him but a deep growl halted the action. Your heart drops. You’re too scared to see where it came from so, in an instant, you bolted down the stairs leaving your boyfriend to deal with whatever he finds.
You make it outside without a hitch. You stomp around, hitting the air in frustration.
“Stupid! Stupid! Why would you run away! Ugh!” You continued to rant, not caring about how loud you were being, “I should have just sucked it up…it’s no use anymore.”
“Babe.”
You let out a yelp. Peter stood behind you, camera in hand with, a smile plastered on his face.
Why was he smiling? You wanted to be mad at him but he did keep his word, protecting you from what lurked inside the house.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you but I managed to grab this bad boy after I dropped it,” He waves the camera around, “but I hate to say that we can’t upload this video, it’s too dark and my webs are visible.”
You stared at him dumbfounded. After all the trouble, it’s the video he begins with. The realization made your eye twitch. It annoyed you but you appreciated him even more for it.
Watching him tinker with the device, you settle on hugging him, forgetting about the prior events. Thinking about it, leaving and going home to watch a movie sounded way better than spending the night in some old rickety building.
“Can we just go? I hate it here.” Your voice is muffled, head tucked inside his chest but he understands.
“Sure, let’s go, it’s already super late,” He swings an arm around you, pulling your bodies closer together, “what do you say about sticking to food reviews?”
“Yeah, I had the same idea, we can leave the ghost hunting to the pros.” You both laugh and walk off the property, arguing about your next vlog.
