Can you do some Pete Willis pwease 👉🏾👈🏾 the lack of Petey Pie on this hellsite is criminal and my heart may be falling for that little rat boi. Can it also be soft™ please? I'm having a hard time and your writing is a surefire way to make the happy chemical in my stoopid brain
PETTEEEEY PIE OMG YES I WOULD LOVE TO DO THIS FOR YOU BABY 🥺 I HOPE THAT WHATEVER HARD TIME YOURE GOING THROUGH IS OVER VERY SOON 💗 I’m always here if you need anything else cutie! AlSO I wasn’t sure if you wanted soft ™️ smut or fluff so I went for just fluff since I have lots of smut going on! If you want smut too just lmk 🥺🥺
aching. it’s all you think about as you collapse against the bed, eyes flickering up towards the ceiling. your feet, legs, back, all felt as if they were on fire. the spectral sigh that leaves your couplet feels heavy in the atmosphere around you, and your gaze traces a dark ring in the ceiling; water damage. guilt and anxiety weighs heavy upon your heart the moment you hear the door open. sucking the lower portion of your mouth with the cavern itself, your teeth sink into the supple flesh.
“Honey,” you call out to him, but you don’t have the heart to peek at him just yet, though you can hear the door close behind him as he enters. your eyelids flutter, tears threatening to fall yet you hold them back. “I’m sorry I missed the gig.”
“Sorry?” the word is repeated back to you, and at first you are unable to gauge his emotions. he had every right to be angry with you, you knew this. finally gathering the nerve to turn and look at him, you can tell he played hard. raven curls disheveled, his lids are heavy, and he drags his feet as he approaches the bed. “It’s thanks to you that we even got the gig, don’t apologize.” relief washes over you. it was unlike the universe surrounding you to appreciate your hard work and dedication, but Pete seemed to comprehend that everything you did- every extra shift, every late night or early morning, you did for the two of you, and the best for the band. you’d been able to convince your manager to let them play that night, but it just so happened you were scheduled for overtime at your second job. the world must’ve had a cruel sense of humor, since you knew how excited he was to play at the venue in hopes that you would be working in the same establishment: you’d finally be able to see Def Leppard play, for real. you always sat in during practices (and made sure you had something for the boys to eat and drink when they would take a break), but this was different. gigs were huge deals to an infantile group.
“I should’ve been there, though.” your lips are pursed, threatening a pout as you slowly push yourself up on to your elbows, just as he plops down on the empty side. “I haven’t gotten to see you play once, I’m always working, or I’m passing out because I have to be at work again in an hour. This is your dream, and I haven’t once gotten to see you living it.”
Pete chuckles, but it’s the gesture that follows that stills your shaking hands at your sides: lingering close to you, the calloused pads of his fingertips glide along your forehead and his lips follow suit, peppering gentle and fleeting kisses about your features. his lips careen downwards, following the slope of your nose. one more, soft peck against the tip before he speaks your name, barely louder than a whisper. it sounded like pure sugar on his lips. “Don’t be silly. You’re my dream, too. This, us, and a life outside of this apartment. One day, baby, I promise things will be different.”
you want to believe him; his words and kisses are too velvety to be true, however. your hues flicker upwards, searching his own for any hint that he was just saying what he thought he wanted you to hear, but you couldn’t find a single hint that he was lying- he believed himself, and that gave you a glimmer of hope. the will to do the same. a smile tickles the corner of your lips and you tilt your head, lips ghosting over his for a split second before you slide back down, splaying out on your back on the bed. “How will they be different?” you ask, hopeful.
his lips and their need to be connected to your skin seem to guide his movements, leading him to lay on his side, facing you. his couplet presses against the fabric of your uniform top that swaddles your shoulder, but his gaze is only upon your countenance. both of his hands flee to encase one of yours. “Mm,” it’s little more than a hum of content, now that he lay beside you, hidden deep in his throat. “For starters, you’ll not have to work three jobs, anymore. Or any, for that matter. We’re going to make it big, and you’ll never have to work again. I’m going to buy you the biggest house, and the shiniest jewelry, and you’ll come along when we go on tour so you’ll never miss another show.”
you allow the smile to completely overtake your mouth, teeth nipping at the flesh of your lower lip only slightly as you turn on your side so you can be face to face with Pete, your free hand outstretching to comb through the obsidian tendrils, pushing them back from his face. your eyes coruscate as they trace his visage, smile only faltering as you realize all of his promises are surface level, shallow. they all revolve around money, and the want to procure fancy things for you. “Will we be happy?” you ask, uncertain if you sound hesitant to him or simply yourself. “You want to make lots of money so that we can have a big, fancy house and I can be taken care of, but I’m just scared, Pete. What if you- we- forget what home really means?”
“That’s impossible,” Pete inches closer, sealing the gap between your figures and welcoming you into the warmth of his embrace whilst his forehead finds the perfect resting place, right against yours. “I can never forget what home is.” he whispers your name once again, this time to send your heart leaping into your chest. “You are my home.”
your digits slide between his, interlocking as you release the breath you only now realize you’d been holding with your smile returning, and exhaustion beginning to set in now that you can rest easy. “You’re my home, too, Pete.”
