Rockstar!tasm! Peter meeting Shy!reader on one of his shows? Invites her backstage to meet the band and he's just real flirty w her? Please
Hii, lovely!🫶 thank u so much for this request. This was fun to write. If you have anymore rockstar!Peter requests send them my way!!!! Hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of alcohol, concert, flirting, mentions of big crowd, (2k)
Your best friends drag you to a concert of some upcoming band they love. Honestly, you don't know a thing about them only that they are allegedly pretty good, and that your friends are paying for your drinks tonight.
The whole place is packed with people, because it's not just one band playing, there are multiple bands playing throughout the whole night. The pretty big venue, but it still does nothing to make it more spacey. There's barely any place to move.
You thought you didn't mind so many people at one place, but as you try to get to the bar through the sea of sweaty bodies, you don't feel very happy that you're there.
You've lost your friends on the way to the bar as well, so you're on your own to get through the crowd. You hope that you'll meet your friends there.
You're almost at the bar when suddenly there's something cold and very very wet going down the front of your t-shirt. And by the smell of it, you can tell it's alcohol.
"Shit. I'm so sorry," the person panics in front of you," I didn't see you, like at all."
You slowly look up from your cold, wet t-shirt to the person speaking. It's a extremely handsome guy. Like 'your breath gets knocked out' handsome type. And no, you aren't even being dramatic.
He's dressed in all black, sleeveless t-shirt, black baggy jeans and black eyeliner. You don't think you've ever seen such abpretty and cute guy. He seems a bit familiar too, but you can't pinpoint where you've seen him before.
But you're t-shirt is still very much wet as you respond," it's-it's okay. There's just too many people, i know you didn't mean to."
You don't know what to do next. You don't have anything else to wear but this t-shirt. And your friends are still nowhere to be seen.
"Still, I'm very sorry," he apologetically looks at you, soft smile on his face. "Do you have anything else to wear?"
"I don't," you reply with a sigh.
"Shit," he curses looking around frantically. He looks like he has places to be, so you honestly don't want to keep him more than you've already had.
"It's whatever, I'll survive the few more hours, I guess. I'm sorry about your drinks tho," you give him a small, sheepish smile, and start going towards the bar again to find your friends.
You don't get far because he gently catches your hand, "as much as I think some guys would enjoy the wet t-shirt contest look, I would be an asshole to let you stay like this. Please let me get you a new t-shirt?"
Your cheeks go red at his words.
"It's really not that big deal-" you start.
"It is to me." He tells you. "Please, let me get you a t-shirt that doesn't reek of beer and vodka," he offers again with a chuckle.
You think it over for a few seconds as he looks hopefully at you, there's something else in the way he looks at you, but you can't quite name what it is.
"Okay, yeah," you say, and he smiles big at you," but where can you find a shirt here. There's nothing here."
He gives you the cheekiest smirk as he says, " don't worry about that. I'll get one for you. Just come with me."
He points to the doors you know lead to the backstage. You shake your head in disagreement, "we can't go there."
"We can, I know the people, so let's go," he starts to head thar way, but you don't budge. Overthinking it too much.
"Am I getting kidnapped?" you worry lightly. Even if you have a strong feeling, that you can trust this guy,
He laughs at your question,"no, definitely not. But if you want to wait here, it's okay, too. I'll bring it to you."
You think it over, and decide that you'd rather not stay in the middle of this pit of sweaty people. And also because you've never been backstage before, so you're curious.
"No, no, it's alright. I'll come with you."
He nods happily, "great. I'm Peter by the way."
"I'm y/n."
He starts to walk again, and this time you follow him. You have a hard time keeping up with him. With his long legs it's not easy to get through the crowd as he does.
Peter notices it, he stops, and suddenly there's his big, warm hand around yours.
Calloused fingers like guitarist's holding onto yours tightly, so he doesn't loose you. It makes the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.
He tugs you after him with an ease, and in no time you're in the backstage area.
Peter doesn't drop your hand, though, and he leads you even farther to some dressing room. He walks inside it so casually, and to your horror he pulls you inside with him.
There are 3 more guys in that room, all of them similarly dressed to Peter, looking very much like some rockstars. Peter finally drops your head, "give me a second, I'll find some clean t-shirt in my bag for you."
He leaves you standing in the middle of the room with your cheeks very rosy at the attention of the three other boys.
"I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'll...I'll go wait outside," you point at the door.
"You're not intruding," Peter says softly, " these are my boys..." he names all of them, and each of them gives you a warm smile and a nod.
Fuck. You suddenly realise. They must be some kind of band playing tonight.
"It's nice to meet you. Do...Are you playing on the stage tonight?" You question curiously.
"Yeah," Peter finally finds you a t-shirt, and walks back towards you. "We are the last band playing tonight," Peter hands you the clothing, and you thank him. Still very shy at the thought that you are currently standing in the middle of some band's dressing room.
"There's a bathroom right here, you can go change, yeah?" Peter suggests carefully, he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything.
He thinks you are really, really pretty, and that it must be fate that you bumped into each other tonight. Peter only knows your name, and he knows he's fucked already. Like full on crush.
You only take a few seconds to clean yourself up, and change into Peter's t-shirt. When you come out of the bathroom, the guys are all standing, readying for the stage already.
"Hey, look at you, my t-shirt looks great on you, even if it's a little big," he compliments you with an easy smile, and you, once again, blush at his flirty tone.
"Thank you," you tell him," and thank you for the t-shirt, I really appreciate. I'm gonna go now though, i don't want to bother you anymore. I'll see you around. And thanks again."
You give him a wave with the intend to dissappear quickly out of there. Your friends are definitely wondering where you are by now. And also because your legs would probably give out if you had to endure one more flirty smile from Peter.
"Hey, hey, hey, wait up," Peter runs after you," I-I was wondering, if you would want to come listen from the side of the stage?
He looks unsurely at you. He has some kind of paper in his fidgeting hands.
"I can't, I'm sorry. I'm here with two of my best friends, so I can't even if I'd love to." You look regretfully at him.
"Then they should come, too! Please, it's the least I can do for spilling my drinks all over you." Peter blurts it all out way too quickly then he means to. Not keeping his cool composure near you like at all.
"Are you sure? We wouldn't want to bother," you ask quietly. Even if you'd really, really love seeing the band from the backstage. Because you don't want to go back into the messy crowd of people.
"You definitely won't bother anybody. It would be my pleasure actually to have you there. I can at least have some pretty girl like you there to dedicate our songs to," he winks at you. Flirting without much thought about it with you.
You can't say you don't like it. You do. Way too much than you probably should. So you say, "okay, yes. I'll text them right now."
"Great," he says with a big beam," and here, take this before I leave. Dave will escort you to the side of the stage." Peter pushes the paper from his hands to yours, and points at the bodyguard.
"Wait, Peter, what's this?"
"It's an address. If you could mail me the t-shirt back, it's my favourite," Peter tells you carefully, not wanting to sound like a dick.
"Oh, of course. That won't be any problem," you immediately assure him.
He nods at you, and leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. Don't worry, he gives you the time to push him away, but you don't. You would never. He just couldn't say goodbye to you without ever kissing your pink cheek in his lifetime.
"I'm so glad i bumped into you," he tells you breathlessly, "I'll see you on the stage," and with that he's off. Leaving you a blushing mess as you scramble to text your friends to come to the backstage.
When they finally arrive, you follow Dave to the side of the stage as your friends stare around them in huge awe.
It's even worse when you finally get to the stage. "How the fuck did you manage to get us in here?" Your friends question.
"It's a long story, I'll tell it to you later." They just shake their heads at you, not able to believe where they are.
They eyes, and yours, go impossibly wider once the band shows up, and they start playing.
Peter immediately looks your way, grins at you and sends you a wink. You just smile bashfully at him.
Your friends eyes are instantly on you, "um excuse me, why is Peter Parker unabashedly flirting across the stage with you?" They squeal as they ask that.
Your face goes white. You didn't realise that Peter was Peter freaking Parker. Lead singer of that upcoming band your friends dragged you here to see. You almost pass out at the realisation.
You can't believe that the future rockstar is openly flirting with you across the stage, and your friends can't either.
Your friends demand to know what exactly happened, so you tell them. They go even more crazy after that.
When the concert is eventually over, you and your friends get escorted away from there by Dave, so you don't even get the chance to say goodbye to Peter or even be bold enough to ask for his number.
It's later after you spend a few days moping about your wasted chance with Peter that you finally get the strength to send him his t-shirt back.
You find the crumpled paper that Peter gave you, and only then you realise what's really written on it. Your mouth goes wide open.
Dear y/n,
I lied it's not my favourite t-shirt. You can keep it. I wanted to ask for your number, but I didn't want to pressure you into thinking that you had to give it to me just because I got you backstage (or just because I'm a handsome rockstar). So here's my number +xxxx xxx xxx, I liked you, like a lot, so please feel free to text me or you can ignore me, both is totally fine. Even if I may end up heartbroken, and write sad songs about you if you do decide to ignore me. Just kidding......maybe
With love,
Peter P.
You squeal so loudly that probably the whole neighbourhood hears you. You make a few laps around your apartment as you try to calm yourself down. You can't really believe it. You even read it a few more times just to make it real.
Once you do calm your racing heart, you call your best friends over to help you figure out what to text Peter. They very gladly agree to come.
And let's just say Peter is just as enthusiasticly waiting for the text from you as you are to write it to him.
