Summary: You and the Sheriff have been sneaking around.
Warnings: age gap, kissing, pinching, suggestive content, secret relationship, smoking/drinking.
Notes: reader is of age and is also older than nancy!! slightly proofread!
wc: 1.6k
The weather in Hawkins was freezing, but you’re mostly focused on the way the floorboards groan under your weight as you try to sneak toward the front door.
Nancy is in the kitchen, probably wondering why you’re wearing a skirt and denim jacket when it’s freezing out. Ted is asleep in his recliner, and Karen is busy with Holly. This is the only window you have.
The drive to the cabin is a blur of backroads.
You park your car a quarter mile out, hidden behind a bunch of trees, and hike the rest of the way.
When the cabin comes into view, the porch light is already on, Jim is sitting on the porch steps, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a beer held loosely in his hand.
When he sees you, he doesn't smile. He just exhales a long cloud of smoke and narrows his eyes. "You’re late," he says, his voice low and tired.
"I had to wait for my dad to stop talking about the Sears catalog, Jim. Give me a break," you retort, stepping onto the porch and dropping your bag. You don't wait for an invitation, you plop down right next to him, your shoulder brushing his.
He grunts, taking another pull of his beer. "You shouldn't be out here this late. The roads are shit, and your parents are eventually going to realize you aren't at 'the library' until midnight."
"Is that the Chief of Police talking or the man who spent forty five minutes complaining about how much he missed me yesterday?"
Jim finally looks at you, his gaze a mix of irritation and absolute devotion.
He’s nearly twenty years your senior, and the weight of that gap usually sits between you like a physical wall.
He thinks he’s corrupting a "nice girl" from a "nice family," and you think he’s the only person in Hawkins who actually sees you as an adult.
"Don't get smart with me," he warns.
He reaches out, his large, calloused hand catching the back of your neck. He pulls you closer until your forehead rests against his temple. "i should leave you alone."
"And yet, here you are," you whisper, leaning into him. "Waiting on the porch for me."
Jim sighs, a sound of surrender. He tosses the cigarette and wraps his arm around your waist, hauling you effortlessly onto his lap. You gasp in surprise, your hands grabbing his shoulders. Up close, he smells like tobacco, old leather, and the pine soap he uses.
"I’m too old for this," he mutters, his face buried in the crook of your neck. "Hiding in the woods. Sneaking around behind Mike’s big sister. If Ted ever finds out, he’ll have a heart attack, and I’ll have to be the one to give him CPR. I don't want to do that, kid."
"Then don't let him find out," you say, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw before threading through his hair, tugging a bit.
He groans, his grip tightening on your waist. Jim isn't a gentle man by nature.. he’s all rough edges and blunt force, but with you, there’s a kind of restraint. He handles you like something fragile that he’s terrified of breaking, even when you’re pushing every single one of his buttons.
He wets his lips, eyeing you before he looks down at your skirt with a disapproving shake of his head. Before you can even open your mouth to argue, his hand slides up your bare knee, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh in a sudden pinch that makes you yelp. "What did I tell you about dressing for the weather? It’s practically dropping into the forties tonight."
"Ow! Jim, stop," you complain, though a little laugh escapes you as you try to swat his hand away. "I wanted to look nice."
"You’re going to be the death of me," he says, his eyes dropping to your lips.
"Maybe," you tease, a glint in your eyes. "But at least you'll die happy."
Slowly, his calloused fingers trail upward from where he pinched you, the rough texture of his hand, sends a shiver up your spine.
He slides his hand higher, moving right under your skirt.
Your breath catches in your throat, your fingers tightening on his shoulders as he traces small circles against the bare skin of your upper inner thigh. His touch hot against your cold skin.
"Jim," you whisper.
"You're always pushing it, aren't you?" he growls softly, his voice dropping an octave. His other hand comes up to cup the back of your neck again, his thumb anchoring under your jaw forcing you to keep your eyes on him. "Coming out here dressed like this. Knowing exactly what it does to me."
You look right into his dark eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite the way your heart is hammering. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in until your mouth is brushing his ear.
"What's the matter, Sheriff?" you tease, your voice low. "Is it getting a little too hard for an old man like you to keep up?"
Jim grunts. "Watch your mouth," he commands, his voice an authoritative pitch that sends a thrill straight down your spine.
"What will you do if i don't?" You mutter.
His mouth slams onto yours and there is nothing gentle about it.
His tongue slides past your lips, you whimper into the kiss, the force of the kiss drove all the air from your lungs, but you arch into him, completely intoxicated by how easily he takes control.
Jim groans, a feral sound against your mouth, his large hands sliding to grip the back of your bare thighs under your skirt, hauling you further onto his lap.
The tight friction of your bodies rubbing together through the fabric has you gripping his hair.
He tears his mouth away from yours, both of you panting heavily in the cold air.
"An old man, huh?" Jim breathes, his mouth drops to the sensitive skin of your neck, biting down just hard enough to make you gasp. "Let's see if you can handle what this old man can do to you."
summary: a terrible start to tsukishima's morning leaves him stuck with you without your peacemaker yamaguchi.
warnings: enemies to lovers, mutual annoyance/bickering, teasing/bullying (playful), embarrassment humor, flirting disguised as insults, physical closeness/tension, use of idiot.
notes: characters are aged up and of age! reader is said to be tall because all fics i see its like she stops at his ankles! lower case intended and slightly proofread!
wc: 4.1k
tsukishima had known you since middle school.
unfortunately.
that was the exact word he'd use too.
unfortunately.
to say you and tsukishima couldn't stand each other was an understatement, It was a mutual hostility.
the only saving grace of the entire dynamic was yamaguchi.
yamaguchi was an angel. he loved you, always making sure you were included, walking with you, and constantly playing the referee between your arguments and tsukishima’s sarcasm.
but this morning, yamaguchi had stayed home sick with a fever, leaving you to walk to the bus stop alone.
your headphones sat around your neck, your bag hanging lazily off one shoulder.
as you rounded the corner, you spotted a tall, lanky figure on all fours in the grass, frantically swatting at a bush.
"what in the world…" you muttered, slowing your pace.
when you got closer, you recognized the blonde hair and the uniform.
It was tsukishima.
he was squinting so hard his eyes were practically shut, his face filled with frustration and humiliation, upon closer inspection, there was a very obvious, very gross white smudge on the shoulder of his jacket.
you stopped a few feet away, crossing your arms. "tsukishima? did you finally lose your mind, or are you just hunting for worms?"
he flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up. he glared blindly in your general direction, his eyes unfocused. "go away," he snapped. "i don't have time for your stupidity today."
"are you… crying?" you asked, leaning in a bit.
"i am not crying, you idiot! i can't find my glasses," he snarled, his hand swinging out and missing a patch of weeds entirely. "and don't look at me!"
a once in a lifetime miracle like this… tsukishima, pooped on by a pigeon and a swatting bushes.. it could not be wasted.
while tsukishima was still blindly swatting at the bush, muttering curses under his breath, you slipped your phone out of your blazer pocket.
"why did you stop talking?" tsukishima snapped, he turned his head, his blurry, unfocused eyes trying to track you. "why is it quiet? what are you doing, idiot?"
"nothing," you said, calmly as you tapped your screen.
you opened your camera app, switched it to video, and hit record. you zoomed in perfectly on his intensely miserable face, capturing the exact second he accidentally slapped a dandelion. then, you panned the camera upward to his shoulder, showing the pigeon poop on his shoulder while stifling a laugh.
"are you breathing loudly? stop breathing near me," he muttered, completely unaware of the camera tracking his every move.
"i'm just appreciating the view, tsukki," you stifled a snort, keeping the camera perfectly steady. "you look like a newborn giraffe trying to find its mother."
"shut up! just… go away!"
you let the video run for another five seconds, getting a shot of him tripping over his own long legs while still on his knees before finally saving it.
giggling quietly to yourself, you slid the phone back into your blazer pocket.
the blackmail was secured. now, it was time to address the giant, blind nuisance currently flattening a patch of clover.
"alright, alright," you sighed, stepping off the pavement and into the grass. "move your hands before you face plant into a pile of dirt."
"i don't need your charity," he spat, though his body froze in place, his hands hovering over the dirt. "just keep walking to the bus."
"and leave you here to get run over by a bicycle? tempting, but yamaguchi would never forgive me," you said, rolling your sleeves up a bit. "come on, stand up. let me help you look."
"i told you, i'm fine-"
"tsukishima, you're looking at a tree trunk while talking to me. you're not fine." you rolled your eyes, stepping right into his personal space.
you reached down, grabbing him firmly by the forearm. "up. now." he let you pull him to his feet, even though you were remarkably tall yourself, easily clearing the height of most girls in your class and reaching right up to his shoulder, tsukishima still managed to tower over you.
but without his glasses, his usual imposing posture was completely gone. he looked lost…. it was cute!
"don't pull so hard," he muttered, his face flashing with irritation as he leaned slightly into your height to keep his balance.
"then move your giant legs," you grumbled.
fortunately, right next to the patch of grass where he’d been searching was an old, weather worn wooden park bench.
you only had to guide him a couple of steps to the side before the back of his calves hit the wood. "sit," you commanded, gently pushing his shoulder.
tsukishima sank down onto the bench with a heavy, deeply defeated sigh.
he crossed his arms tightly over his chest, his head turning blindly toward the street while you remained standing in the grass right next to him. "are you happy now? i'm sitting. go find them so i can stop looking at your blurry outline."
you turned on your heel, taking a wide step deeper into the tall grass. your eyes scanned the overgrown clover, your long legs parting the weeds as you looked for a glint of plastic. "for a volleyball player, your depth perception is tragic."
"where did you even say they went?" you muttered, shifting a thick patch of weeds aside with the toe of your flats.
his voice drifted over from the bench with irritation. "they bounced. just look near the base of the telephone pole. and stop kicking the dirt, you're going to scratch the lenses."
"yeah, yeah, whatever," you grumbled. you bent your long frame over, hands on your knees as you thoroughly scanned the area. you checked around the rusted base of the pole. nothing.
you moved a little further back, parted a cluster of yellow dandelions, and squinted into the overgrown hedge. still nothing.
"are you sure a pigeon didn't just fly off with them?" you called out. "because i'm looking right where you told me and there's literally nothing here but bugs and dirt."
"they didn't grow wings and fly away," tsukki snapped, sitting rigidly on the bench, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. he was staring blindly ahead, "you're just not looking properly. as usual."
"oh, excuse me for trying to do you a favor!" you shot back, taking a large, annoyed step backward to try a different angle. "at least i'm not the idiot who managed to lose my gl-"
crunch.
you froze dead in your tracks, your stomach dropping instantly. slowly, you lifted your right foot.
there, pressed directly into the dirt, were tsukishima’s black rimmed glasses. miraculously, the lenses hadn't shattered or even cracked, but the frame itself was ruined. your foot had come down dead center on the bridge, snapping the glasses completely in half right over the nose piece.
you were looking at two separate, completely disconnected eyepieces resting in the dirt.
"what was that?" tsukishima demanded from the bench, his head snapping instantly toward the sound. his eyes widened in absolute panic. "hey. what did you just do?"
panic surged through you. you leaned down and snatched up the two separate halves of the glasses, shoving them behind your back as you straightened up to your full height.
"nothing!" you yelled back, your voice squeaking just a fraction too high. "just… a really big twig! man, nature is crazy out here. these twigs are getting out of hand."
"don't lie to me!" he braced his hands on the edge of the bench, leaning forward aggressively, though he stayed seated, too blind to risk running into the bushes. "you stepped on them, didn't you?! i heard plastic snap!"
"i didn't step on anything, i swear!" you lied through your teeth, keeping your hands firmly hidden behind your back. "you told me they rolled into the bushes, remember? i'm not even near the bushes yet. you probably just heard my shoe hitting a rock. or a really, really crisp leaf."
"a crisp leaf doesn't sound like a cracking skull, idiot," he hissed, his eyes narrowing at nothing. "If you found them, just give them to me already."
"well, i did just find them," you mumbled, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as a twinge of genuine guilt finally started to eat at you.
you walked back over to the bench, the tall grass rustling against your shins, and slid onto the wooden slats right beside him.
because of your height, your shoulders were nearly level as you sat together, though you leaned away to avoid the poop on his sleeve that he still didn't know about.
slowly, you brought your hands around from behind your back, holding out the two completely detached pieces of his frames. "but… they were already like this when i reached down. totally split down the middle. must have been a manufacturing defect. or something."
he reached out, his long fingers blindly brushing against your hands until he grabbed the two separate halves. he held them a mere two inches from his nose, staring at the perfectly clean break right over the nose piece.
his entire face went blank. "a manufacturing defect," he whispered, his voice dropping, make an actual made a shiver run down your spine. "my glasses, which i have worn for a year, decided to perfectly split in half the exact second your foot came down?"
"hey, stranger things have happened!" you shrugged, crossing your arms. "i definitely didn't crush them. but since i'm a nice person, i'm going to fix them."
before he could protest or drop the pieces, you snatched them right back out of his fingers. you unzipped the front pocket of your school bag and dug past your wallet and your keys until your fingers brushed against exactly what you were looking for.
you pulled out a small, bright roll of decorative washi tape. it was neon pink and covered in tiny, smiling hello kitty faces.
tsukishima couldn't see the exact design, but the sheer, blinding brightness of the pink in your hands made his jaw tighten. "what is that. tell me that isn't what i think it is."
"it's structural engineering, tsukki," you said with seriousness. ignoring his glare, you set your bag down and got to work.
you lined up the broken bridge of the frames on your lap, pinching the two halves tightly together with the fingers of your left hand.
tsukishima sat silently beside you, his chest brushing against your shoulder as he leaned in close, blinking uselessly at your lap to try and see what you were doing.
using your teeth, you ripped off a long, sticky strip of the neon pink hello kitty tape. balancing the frames, you began tightly wrapping the tape right around the center of the bridge.
you went around once, twice, three times, binding the two halves back together. the sweet, innocent faces of hello kitty were now tightly bound directly over the nose piece, completely secure.
when you finished taping, you noticed a bit of damp grass and a smudge of dirt clinging to the lenses from their time in the weeds. pulling a soft cloth from your bag, you carefully wiped the glasses off until the glass was completely clean.
"alright, hold still," you said. shifting your weight, you turned fully toward him on the bench, pulling one leg up onto the wooden slats to face him directly.
because you were sitting side by side and both tall, your faces were practically level as you leaned into his personal space.
you carefully unfolded the arms of the newly customized glasses, and slipped them over his ears. your fingers briefly brushed the warm, flushed skin near his temples as you adjusted them onto the bridge of his nose.
tsukishima blinked, the very first thing he saw was your face barely inches from his, a smug grin plastered across your features.
but worst of all, when he looked down his nose, a massive, bright pink blob filled his vision.
you didn't pull away. instead, you tilted your head, your eyes scanning his incredibly irritated face. a massive, teasing smile broke across your lips. "aw, look at you," you cooed, your voice full of exaggerated sweetness.
you reached out, gently tapping the tip of his nose right beneath the bright pink tape. "you look absolutely precious, kei-chan. it really softens your sour personality."
tsukishima's jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widening behind the lenses. his ears instantly turned a deep shade of scarlet.. partly from annoyance, and partly because having you this close and calling him that, was doing dangerous things to his composure. "do not call me that. and get out of my face."
"why? are you getting flustered?" you giggled, leaning in just a fraction closer to admire your handiwork, secretly thrilled by how much you were getting under his skin.
"honestly, the pink is totally your color. it makes you look so cute and approachable! the little volleyball club other first years might actually think you're a nice person now. oh, kageyama is going to love this."
"i will bury you in the gym floor," he hissed.
"see? adorable," you laughed, quickly whipping your phone out of your pocket.
before he could react, you held the phone up, lining up the camera perfectly, the shutter sound was loud.
"delete that," tsukishima said immediately, lunging forward to swat the phone out of your hand.
you took another selfie, this time it was the two of you, your beaming smile was a hilarious contrast to his murderous, bright red face, the neon pink hello kitty tape sitting right between his glaring eyes.
"i am going to smash your phone into pieces," he muttered.
you slid the phone into your blazer pocket just as the loud screech of the bus brakes finally echoed down the street.
you stood up, laughing to yourself, you smoothed down your school skirt and turned toward the curb. "now let's go. we have a bus to catch, and everyone at school needs to appreciate my beautiful art."
behind you, tsukishima let out a low, shaky exhale, he adjusted his ridiculous pink glasses, a small helpless smirk finally tugging at the corner of his lips as he stood up to follow you.
"oh, by the way, kei" you said turning to face him, walking backwards.
he paused for a sec before walking again, his hand frozen near his glasses as he glared at you. "what now?"
"i forgot to mention," you giggled, pointing a finger directly at his shoulder.
"while you were busy having your little blind panic attack back there, a bird completely blasted you. there is a massive, pile of bird poop sitting right on your shoulder."
tsukishima froze. his entire body went still as your words registered.
slowly, he turned his head. his eyes locked onto his own shoulder, and his face instantly twisted into a look of sheer, unadulterated horror as he finally saw the white poop staining his school blazer.
"you-" he choked out, his voice cracking with absolute betrayal. "you knew about this the entire time?!"
"yep! it's in all the photos too!" you cheered, offering him a cheerful thumbs up as you stepped backward up the bus stairs.
he frantically reached into his bag for a tissue, he looked like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. "i hate you. i hate you more than anyone else on this planet."
a moment later, tsukishima practically stomped up the stairs behind you.
the bus driver gave him a long concerned look, staring first at the bright neon pink hello kitty tape holding his glasses together, and then at the furious, frantic way tsukishima was aggressively dabbing at his left shoulder with a crumpled tissue.
kei completely ignored him, keeping his head down and his jaw tightly clenched.
naturally, because the morning commute was packed, there was only one row of empty space left, the long bench seat at the very back of the bus.
you slid into the window seat, hugging your school bag tightly against your chest as you scrolled through your phone.
tsukki dropped onto the seat right next to you, his long legs cramping into the tight space.
every time you shifted your weight, your knee knocked against his, sending a familiar, electric jolt up your spine.
tsukki groaned, tugging off his blazer.
you opened your gallery and tapped on the video from this morning, you leaned in close, your shoulder pressing firmly against his, and nudged his arm with your elbow. "hey. look."
"leave me alone," he muttered, keeping his eyes glued straight ahead. "i am ignoring you for the foreseeable future."
"oh, come on, tsukki. you're missing out on some incredible cinematography," you teased, turning the phone screen directly into his line of sight and hitting play.
the volume was down to a faint, low whisper, but the quality was clear. the video opened with a zoomed in shot of him on all fours in the grass, squinting blindly.
and the exact second his hand came down and slapped a dandelion, your own muffled, wheezing laughter echoed quietly through the phone speaker. then, the camera smoothly panned upward, capturing the massive white pile on his shoulder in all its glory.
tsukishima’s breath hitched. "you are an absolute demon," he whispered.
"look at your little squinty eyes!" you chuckled, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle a loud laugh so the rest of the passengers wouldn't look back at you.
you leaned in closer, your shoulder pressing firmly against his as you pointed at the screen. "you looked so helpless! and the pan to the shoulder? truly iconic. i'm keeping this forever."
"delete it. right now," he ordered.
he lunged across the cramped space between the seats, his hand reaching down to snatch the device right out of your lap.
but you were already anticipating the move. you pulled the phone back against your chest, leaning away from him with a grin.
"no way! this is blackmail gold," you whispered back loudly, your eyes dancing as you looked up at him. "i might even make it my lock screen."
"i am going to throw your phone out the window," he hissed, but he didn't pull back. instead, he trapped you.
tsukishima planted his left hand firmly on the seat right next to your thigh, and his right arm reached completely over your lap, his fingers wrapping tightly around your wrist to pin it against your school bag.
because of his massive frame, he effectively blocked out the entire bus aisle, crowding your tall frame completely into the corner of the back seat. your breath caught in your throat.
he was barely inches away, the sudden proximity made your heart do a flip.
you could feel the heat of his body, and smell the clean, faint scent of his laundry detergent around you.
from this close, you could see the blush creeping up his neck and dusting his cheekbones. his eyes, completely focused and unblinking behind the ridiculous taped glasses, locked directly onto yours.
"give me the phone," he murmured. his voice lost its sharpness, replaced with a breathless tone that made your pulse spike.
"make me," you whispered back, your voice coming out a fraction of a second too late, completely failing to maintain your usual tough exterior.
tsukki's gaze flickered. for a moment, his eyes dropped down to your lips, lingering there for what felt like an absolute eternity.
his grip on your wrist tightened, his thumb lightly brushing the soft skin right over your racing pulse.
the fake animosity between you completely evaporated, leaving nothing but the suffocating warmth of the packed bus and the undeniable, terrifying truth of how much you wanted him to just lean in the rest of the way.
he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, and his eyelashes fluttered as he slowly began to close the tiny remaining distance between your faces.
Screech!
the bus hit a massive pothole in the road, the violent jolt tossing the entire back row upward.
you both flinched violently, breaking apart as if you’d been struck by lightning.
tsukishima ripped his hands back, slamming his spine against the seat and throwing his head down, his entire face, ears, and neck turning a shade of crimson.
you scrambled backward against the window, your face burning so hot you thought your skin might actually melt.
───〃★
the rest of the bus ride passed in a tense, hyper aware silence, the heat of his shoulder pressed against yours, made it impossible to focus on anything else.
every time the bus took a sharp turn, your long frames shifted together.
by the time the bus came to a halt in front of karasuno high, you were practically bursting out of your skin.
the doors hissed open, and you scrambled out of the seat first, eager to escape the suffocating closeness.
kei trailed behind you, your tall figures drawing immediate, bewildered stares from the passing students.
the morning sun illuminated the pink hello kitty tape right on his nose, casting a pink shadow across his cheek.
"hey! tsukishima! what is on your face?!"
you spun around just in time to see hinata and kageyama jogging up the campus walkway, their club bags swinging.
hinata was pointing a trembling, dumbfounded finger at tsukishima’s face, his jaw practically dropping to the pavement.
"is that… hello kitty?" kageyama muttered, squinting in disbelief.
tsukishima’s entire face darkened. he stopped dead in his tracks, his golden brown eyes flashing with a mix of murderous rage and pure humiliation behind the lenses. "it's none of your business. move."
"did you let a toddler customize you?!" hinata wheezed, clapping a hand over his mouth as he tried.. and failed to stifle a massive laugh.
before tsukishima could actually commit a double homicide right on the school lawn, you smoothly stepped into the space between them, crossing your arms and looking down at the two other first years.
"hey, show some respect," you lectured, your voice dripping with faux seriousness, "that is high grade structural engineering. if it wasn't for my artistic genius, your middle blocker would be blind today and crashing into the net during practice."
kageyama's eyes darted from you to tsukishima, a sudden, knowing smirk breaking across his face. then, hinata spoke. "wait… you did that to him? and he let you?"
"he didn't have a choice," you chimed in, throwing a grin over your shoulder at tsukishima, whose ears were now turning red again.
"i hate both of you," tsukishima muttered under his breath, his fingers tightening so hard around the straps of his school bag that his knuckles turned white.
he aggressively brushed past the group, his shoulder catching yours as he passed, sending a jolt right down your spine. "i'm going to class."
"wait up, kei-chan!" you called out, not noticing the suspicious looks hinata and kageyama were exchanging behind your back.
you jogged a few steps to catch up to his long, angry strides, falling into a familiar rhythm right at his side. as you entered the shoe locker area, the cool shade of the building felt great compared to the morning heat.
tsukki slammed his locker door shut, changing into his indoor slippers with unnecessary force.
"you're enjoying this way too much," he muttered.
"obviously," you laughed, leaning against the wall right next to his locker. "it's not every day i get to see you walking around looking like a sanrio mascot."
he finally snapped his head up, slightly looking down at you through his glasses.
the fake annoyance in his eyes, turned into that intense, heavy gaze that always made your breath catch in your throat.
he took a single step closer, trapping you slightly against the wall, his shoulders blocking out the hallway traffic.
"if you think this means you win," he whispered, "you're completely delusional. i'm going to make your life a living hell for the rest of the week."
"i'd like to see you try, four eyes," you mumbled, your voice coming out a little softer than you wanted as your heart hammered against your ribs.
a small, smile finally tugged at the corner of his lips.. he reached up, his long, warm fingers briefly brushing against the side of your neck as he adjusted your blazer collar, the heat of his touch leaving your skin tingling.
"just wait," he murmured, before turning on his heel and walking toward his classroom.
you stood there for a second, gripping the straps of your school bag, waiting for your burning cheeks to cool down, completely helpless to the ridiculous crush you swore you'd never admit to.
notes: was rotting in my drafts and needed majoring editing, finally finished it though so yay!! slighty proof read and lowercase intended!
wc: 2.1k
rodrick heffley had a reputation that came before he even picked up a drumstick... lazy, loud, sarcastic, and somehow always acting like nothing mattered.
which is why it was infuriating that the one thing he suddenly did take seriously was you.
“again,” he said flatly, leaning back against the garage wall. “you’re overthinking it.”
you wiped your palms on your skirt, warmth rising up your neck. “i’m not overthinking it. you’re just… not explaining it right.”
rodrick snorted. “it’s kissing. not rocket science.”
that didn’t help your nerves at all.
this whole disaster started as a joke.. someone in the band teasing that you’d never been in a real relationship, and rodrick, of all people, rolling his eyes and saying, “I could teach her in five minutes.”
you should’ve said no but.... you didn’t.
now it was you and him alone in the garage after practice, instruments still set out, the garage door slightly cracked open, and an unbearable amount of tension for something that was supposed to be “no big deal.”
“look,” he said quieter and less jokingly. “you don’t have to act like it’s some huge thing. you just… go with it.” he said, drumsticks tapping lazily against his thighs.
“go with it,” you repeated, unimpressed.
rodrick pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “yeah.” he shrugged. “stop thinking so much.”
easy for him to say...
you swallowed. “fine. show me then.”
the space between you shrank until there wasn’t much left at all, he exhaled through his nose, trying to look casual. “okay,” he muttered. “but you’re the one who asked.”
you stared up at him with wide eyes, “don’t make it weird,” he said quietly.
“you’re the one making it weird,” you scoffed, but your voice came out softer than you meant.
rodrick huffed a quiet laugh, eyes flicking to your mouth for half a second before he looked away, running a hand through his hair.
“just.... don’t freak out,” he said.
“i’m not going to freak out,” you lied immediately.
he gave you a look. “you’re literally freaking out right now.”
“i’m not.....”
“yeah, you are.”
you shut up... the garage went silent for a bit.
then rodrick lifted a hand, hesitated like he was actually thinking about it for once, and gently tilted your chin up.
“okay,” he said softer. “just… stay still.”
he leaned in until the tips of your noses brushed, teasing you. he paused there, close enough that you were breathing his air, he tilted his head just enough to find the right angle.
his lips hovered a mere millimeter from yours. "i'm waiting," he whispered, he didn't wait for you to answer before he closed the gap.
his lips moved against yours slowly, his lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like the mint gum he was chewing.
he tilted your head back just a fraction more, exposing the line of your throat and creating the perfect angle.
a small, involuntary sound left the back of your throat and the kiss deepened.
thats when he pulled back slowly, it was only a bit, like he wasn’t sure if he should’ve stopped at all and neither of you spoke.
the moment the kiss broke, you realized the minty flavor wasn’t just a lingering aftertaste. during the kiss, the gum had made its way into your mouth.
you stood there, slowly realizing you were now the one chewing the peppermint flavored gum.
rodrick blinked first, looking suddenly way less confident than he had all night. “uh.”
“yeah,” you said, voice not cooperating.
more silence, then he huffed a laugh, running a hand through his hair again. “okay. so you’re not… bad at it.”
you stared at him. “that’s your feedback?”
“What? I’m being helpful.... you did fine?!” he countered, his eyes finally flicking to yours before dropping to your mouth.
he watched you chew for a second, his brain clearly catching up to the fact that his gum was gone.
“wait,” he muttered, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. “is that… is that my gum?”
“It’s mine now,” you managed to say, letting out a sigh.
“that’s… that’s gross,” he muttered, though the massive, lopsided grin spreading across his face suggested he thought the exact opposite. he shoved his hands into his pockets. “you’re a klepto. i just kissed a thief.”
you tilted your head, "you're the one who literally shoved it into my mouth, heffley... that’s not a theft, that’s a donation."
rodrick’s grin didn't falter, he stepped back into your space, looking down at you, "i didn't 'donate' it. it’s my favorite brand. i want it back."
You raised an eyebrow, a slow, smile spreading across your face. "you want it back? really?"
"yeah, really.." he said, eyes flicking down to your lips, before he bit his own. "i’m a very busy guy. i don't have time to go to the store and buy a whole new pack just because some girl decided to pull a heist during a lesson."
you didn't say anything and just gave him a long look, then, turned your back on him, and started walking toward the back of the garage near the stacks of old speakers.
you could hear his sneakers scuffing the concrete, following right behind you. "well? are you gonna be a coward, or are you gonna return the stolen goods?"
you reached the far wall and turned around just as he caught up, but before you could say anything, he backed you into the wall.
placing a hand against the wall right next to your ear, the other, reaching down fingers tugging the hem of your skirt softly.
"you know.... i really like this skirt on you." he leaned down, his face inches from yours, his breath warm and smelling like the mint he was demanding back.
you leaned back against the cool drywall, his hand was still resting against the wall by your head, and his fingers were still loosely hooked in the fabric of your skirt, before sliding up to your hip, holding you right where he wanted you.
you looked him straight in the eye, while you shifted the gum to the front of your mouth. a soft hiss of air could be heard as you blew a small bubble right between your faces.
rodrick’s eyes dropped to the bubble, his brow twitching in amusement.
the bubble popped, the sound was a bit loud in the quiet garage. you pulled the gum back into your mouth with a playful click of your tongue.
"thanks," you whispered, the word trailing off into a grin. "i think the flavor’s better now that it’s mine."
rodrick let out a low, disbelieving huff, "oh, you think it's yours now?" he murmured.
you slowly shook your head and before he could mutter another word about his "property," you reached up and grabbed the front of his worn out band tee, bunching the fabric in your fists.
rodrick was tall so you shifted onto your tiptoes, as you surged upward to meet him. you caught him completely off guard, your lips crashing into his in a collision that was soft and tasted entirely of peppermint.
as your lips locked, you didn't hesitate, you moved the gum back to him, the exchange unhurried.
rodrick made a low, muffled sound of surprise in the back of his throat. his other hand, which had been resting on the wall, moved to your hip too.
both hands tightening, his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt as he hauled you flush against him to steady you on your toes. he deepened the kiss, reclaiming the gum with a low groan.
when he finally pulled back just an inch, his forehead stayed resting against yours. you were still balanced on your toes, held up entirely by the grip he had on your waist. he was breathing hard, his hair a mess, and he was slowly, victoriously chewing.
"there," you whispered, your voice shaky and breathless. "happy?"
" happiest man alive." he grin, thumb rubbing little circles on your hip.
" mmm, i bet." you laughed, you let your heels drop back to the concrete.
he stepped back, giving you a bit of breathing room, but his hands lingered on your hips until the very last second.
he walked back toward his drum kit, picking up a stray stick and twirling it between his fingers. "same time tomorrow?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he sat back down on a crate. "you know... for educational purposes."
"i'll think about it..." you mumbled and walked toward the drum kit where he had just sat down. rodrick watched you, as you stepped between his legs.
the height difference was flipped now.. for once, he was the one looking up at you, you reached out, your fingers lingering as you brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face.
you slid your hand further back, your palm cupping the nape of his neck. his skin was warm, "goodnight, heffley," you whispered, a knowing smile tugging at your lips.
before he could find his voice or grab your waist to keep you there, you leaned down and gave him one last peck on the lips.
you pulled away quickly, turning on your heels and slipping out through the small gap in the garage door before he could even blink.
behind you, the only sound was the hollow clatter of a drumstick hitting the concrete floor.
summary: you two end up arguing in the parking lot over billy, your family, and steve’s fear of losing you. eventually, he takes you back to his place to take care of you.
warnings: injury/bruising, arguing, yelling, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of choking, family trauma, kissing, emotional exhaustion... lmk if i missed anything.
notes: did this meet you guys expectations?! or what? i feel like i should've added billy or something.. but if i did it would've been lwk depressing and i probably would've ruined the whole thing..... lower case intended, slightly proofread!
wc: 4.9k
pt1
steve didn’t care about the gawking students or the librarian shouting about calling the principal.
“we need to get you to the nurse,” steve whispered, his voice still shaky. he pulled back just enough to inspect the bruising darkening across your cheek.
his jaw tightened, but his eyes softened the second he took in your facial expression. “or better yet, my house... i’ve got ice and no billy.”
the walk to the parking lot was a blur, steve kept his arm locked around your waist, guiding you through the small crowd of onlookers.
once inside his car, he didn't start the engine immediately. he just gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, staring straight ahead at nothing.
he glanced over at you but the bruise on your cheek didn't help calm him down, he inhaled shakily staring back out the front window. “I’m going to kill him,” he said under his breath but you heard it.
“steve, don’t,” you said, reaching over to unclench his hand from the wheel.
steve didn’t move, his hand felt like it was made of stone under yours, he turned again looking at you.
"don't? are you serious right now?" his eyes snapping back to your face, taking you in, his voice cracking as it rose in volume. "look at you! look at your face! and you’re telling me dont?!"
"steve, please," you pleaded, your fingers interlacing with his to try and pry them off the leather.
"i'm telling you not to make it worse," you muttered, pulling your hand away when you realized he wasn't budging. "
"it was an accident," you said softly. "he wasn't aiming for me, steve. he was aiming for you. i just… i got in the way."
"and that makes it what? better? you shouldn't have had to jump in at all!" he reached a hand out tilting your face up, examining your cheek before shaking his head.
"we’re going to the doctor. this is swelling too fast."
"i'm not going to the doctor, steve. i just need to sit down for ten minutes," you said, pushing his hand away.
"no, you don't get to 'just sit down,'" steve scoffed. "you just took a hit from a guy twice your size because you decided to play human shield! i don't know what you were thinking?"
"I was thinking that he was going to kill you!" you said, your voice rising a bit, "he had his hands around your throat, steve! was i supposed to just sit there and watch the librarian call the police while you stopped breathing?"
"yes!" steve yelled. "yes, you let me take it! i can handle billy. i’ve handled him before."
you didn't respond, you just stared out the window, picking at your nails.
"i’m taking you to the ER," he said, voice flat.
"steve, no," you groaned, leaning your head back against the headrest.. "it’s just a bruise. i don't need a hospital."
"it’s not just a bruise!" steve shook his head, running a hand over his face. the sight of the swelling on your cheek seemed to physically pain him. "your cheek is a different color and its spreading, you’re swaying in the seat! i am not debating this with you."
"i am not going to the hospital so they can call my dad and tell him billy punched me!" you scoffed, shaking your head, "i'm not doing it.."
steve let out an unamused laugh "You're unbelievable," he muttered, eyeing you.
"god, steve i was the one who jumped!" you shouted, the effort making your jaw ache. "he was blinded by his own temper! he didn't even see me move until he'd already followed through. you saw his face right after... he looked like he’d seen a ghost!"
"oh, poor billy!" steve mocked, his voice filled with sarcasm. "the poor guy feels bad because he accidentally laid out his sister while trying to commit a felony in the school library. should i send him a get well card for his emotional trauma?"
"shut up, steve! you’re being an asshole!"
"i’m being an asshole?" steve pointed to himself, another unamused laugh slipping through his lips.
"yeah, steve, you are! you're being a massive asshole!" you rolled your eyes, "i jumped in to save you, and now you’re making me regret it because you won’t stop acting like a jerk!"
steve slammed his hand against the dashboard, "i'm acting like a jerk because you're defending him!
"you're so obsessed with winning against him that you're not even looking at me! you're just looking at the bruise!"
"i am looking at you!" steve shouted, his hand flying out to gesture toward your face, stopping just inches away. "i'm looking at you and I'm seeing a girl who's so brainwashed by her psychotic brother that she’s calling me the jerk for trying to help her!"
"oh, so now i'm brainwashed?" you let out a laugh, your hand reaching for the door handle. "great. first i’m a punching bag, and now i'm too stupid to know my own mind. thanks for the clarity, steve."
"that’s not what i meant and you know it-"
"no, i know exactly what you mean." you pushed the handle down, the door clicking open.
you stepped out onto the asphalt, the ground tilting for a second, but you gripped the edge of the door to steady yourself.
"get back in the car!" steve scrambled across the center console, reaching out to grab your sleeve, but you yanked your arm away.
"go home, steve," you spat, slamming the door shut with every ounce of strength you had left.
you didn't look back at him, you started walking back toward the school building, your head throbbing, you could hear his door slamming shut then, his footsteps sprinting across the pavement after you.
you didn't stop, you kept your eyes locked on the school entrance, trying to move as fast as your legs would let you.
steve’s hand caught your elbow, steadying you as you stumbled. "don't touch me," you hissed, trying to shake him off, but your legs felt like they were no longer under you.
"okay, okay!" he said, holding his hands up in surrender while staying glued to your side. "look, i’m sorry. i'm a jerk. i’m an asshole. i'm whatever you want me to be baby, just please stop walking before you pass out in the middle of the parking lot."
"i'm going to find the nurse," you lied, your voice wavering. "and then I’m calling a cab. I don't need you to follow me around and I definitely don't need a lecture on my family dynamics."
"a cab? in hawkins?" steve let out a frustrated, breathless noise. "you’ll be waiting three hours.."
he stepped in front of you, forcing you to halt. the sudden movement made your vision blur, and you instinctively reached out, your hand landing on his chest to keep yourself upright. steve immediately covered your hand with his, his eyes searching yours.
he stepped closer, letting his shadow fall over you, shielding your eyes from the sun. "i'm not trying to win an argument. if you don't want the hospital, fine. no ER. no doctors."
you looked up at him, your breath hitching. "he's my brother, steve," you said, your voice quiet, a small tear running down your face.
"i know," steve murmured, his thumb moved to your swollen cheek, gently wiping the tear away. "and i’m the guy who loves you. let that count for something today. please.... just get back in the car. i’ll be quiet. i won’t say a word, i’ll just drive."
⋆˙⟡ —
the ride to steve’s was filled with the silence he had promised. he didn't say a single thing, though the way he kept glancing at you.
his eyes darting from the road to the swelling on your face every thirty seconds. checking to see if your eyes were still open or if you were leaning too far to one side.
he drove with a cautiousness, avoiding every pothole as if a single bump might cause you more pain.
when he pulled into his driveway, he didn't wait for the engine to settle before he was out of the door.
he was at your side in a second, his hand hovering near your elbow, ready to catch you the moment you stepped out.
"i’ve got you," he whispered as he guided you up the front steps, the large, empty house feeling even more larger than usual.
he led you straight into the kitchen, helping you sit on one of the high barstools. the cool air of the house felt good against your skin, but the throbbing in your jaw was starting to pulse in time with your heartbeat.
"stay," he commanded softly, though he was already moving toward the freezer. he pulled out a clean dish towel and filled it with crushed ice, folding it over.
he stepped between your knees, leaning in close. "okay," he whispered. "this is going to be cold. just… try to hold still."
as the ice pack touched your cheek, you winced, drawing in a breath through your teeth.
steve’s other hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair to steady you, pulling your head gently against his chest.
"i know, baby. i know," he murmured, his breath warm against the top of your head. the anger from the parking lot was completely gone. "just breathe. i've got it."
he held the ice there for a long time, the only sound in the kitchen being the hum of the refrigerator.
slowly, he pulled back just enough to look at you. "does it feel better?" he asked, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw just below the towel. "the cold?"
"a little," you admitted, your voice sounding small.
he let out a long, ragged breath, the kind that seemed to deflate his entire chest. he didn't move his hand from your jaw, his thumb continuing that slow stroke that was clearly meant to soothe him as much as it was to comfort you.
"good," he whispered. "that’s good."
his pupils were blown wide, searching your eyes as if he were trying to memorize every fleck of color in them, checking for the hundredth time that you were really okay.
Your eyes dropped to his mouth before you could stop it.
steve noticed, you saw the exact second it registered because his entire expression changed. the panic softened out of his face, his eyes dipped to your lips too, then back up again.
“hey,” he murmured softly.
you swallowed. “yeah?”
his hand tightened slightly at the back of your neck. “what?”
you tried to fight the tiny smile pulling at your mouth, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you.... like you hung the moon or something equally ridiculous.
"you know..." you whispered. "There is one thing that would really make me feel better."
steve’s brow furrowed instantly, "what? anything," he promised, his voice urgent and ready to fix it. "you want more ice? or i can go get that heated blanket from the closet? do you feel dizzy? nauseous? just tell me, baby, i’ll get it."
you didn't answer right away, you just kept your eyes on his, watching the way his concern made his forehead crease. slowly, you tilted your head and puckered your lips, waiting.
for a second, steve just stared at you, his brain glitching as he processed the request. then, a small, lopsided smile finally broke through the tension on his face.
it was the first real smile you’d seen since before the library. "oh," he breathed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping him.
the sound made your smile grow. “what?”
“you are unbelievable,” he muttered again, except this time there wasn’t any frustration in it.
his forehead dropped forward for a second like he physically couldn’t handle you. “you’re sitting here half concussed trying to flirt with me.”
"i'm multitasking.”
steve huffed out another laugh, quieter this time, your fingers curled lightly into the front of his shirt. “steve…”
he leaned down a little closer, like he couldn’t help it whenever you said his name like that.
your noses brushed. “....steve,” you whispered this time.
His eyes fluttered shut for half a second before he finally gave in, the kiss started careful.
steve kissed you like he was afraid you might break apart in his hands if he moved too fast.
his palm stayed cradled against the back of your head while the other moved the melting ice pack from your cheek to the counter beside you.
you felt the shaky exhale leave him against your mouth as he kissed you once, slowly. then again, a little deeper this time.
your fingers tightened in his shirt automatically, pulling him closer between your knees.
steve made the quietest sound in his throat. his forehead pressed against yours when he pulled back barely an inch. “you scared the hell out of me today,” he admitted softly.
you reached up, brushing your thumb lightly along his busted lip. “i’m okay.”
“you weren’t.” his jaw tightened. "you got hit hard enough to nearly black out.”
“but I’m okay now.”
steve looked at you for another long moment, like he was deciding whether he believed you, then his eyes dropped to your lips again.
“you sure kissing me doesn’t hurt?” he asked quietly.
“it might,” you admitted.
his expression immediately filled with guilt. “jesus, sorry-”
“but,” you interrupted softly, “it’s worth it.”
steve stared at you. then he kissed you again like that sentence rewired his brain chemistry.
his fingers threaded through the strands of your hair carefully so he wouldn’t jar your jaw.
he tilted his head just enough to deepen the kiss, slow and warm and consuming in a way that made your stomach flip.
you could taste the mint gum he’d probably chewed hours ago.... could feel the way he kept hesitating between kisses, like he still couldn’t stop checking if you were okay.
every few seconds his thumb would brush your cheek gently.... and every few seconds he’d pull back just enough to look at you again.
“you still dizzy?” he whispered against your lips.
“a little.”
his mouth brushed yours once more. “Headache?”
“mhm.”
another kiss.
“nauseous?”
“steve,” you mumbled, smiling despite yourself.
“what?” he whispered, smiling back. “nurse harrington’s thorough.”
“you’re annoying.”
“yeah?” he kissed the corner of your mouth. “still your favorite though.”
you rolled your eyes weakly, but your hands slid up around his neck anyway.
his lips moved against slower now. like he was pouring every unsaid thing from the parking lot into kissing you instead.
sorry.... i was scared.... i love you.... don’t ever do that again.
your fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of his neck and he shivered, like actually shivered.
“jesus,” he breathed against your mouth.
you smiled sleepily. “what?”
“you keep doing that and i’m never letting you leave this kitchen.”
“wasn’t planning on it.”
steve laughed softly, forehead dropping against yours again. his nose nudged yours.
“you’re exhausted,” he murmured.
“so are you.”
“yeah.” He sighed. “but yours is probably a concussion.”
you snorted quietly and instantly regretted it when pain shot through your cheek.
steve winced in sympathy. “okay, no laughing. doctor’s orders.”
“you’re not a doctor.”
“no, but i am the guy currently keeping your face attached with ice.” he leaned back slightly, finally grabbing the towel again before gently pressing it to your cheek. “hold this for me, baby.”
you took it with a small groan.
steve softened again at the sound, his free hand rubbing slowly up and down your arm. “i know,” he whispered. “c’mere.”
before you could ask what he meant, he carefully lifted you off the stool. “steve-”
“you’re swaying,” he said simply.
and honestly? you were too tired to argue anymore, so you let him carry you.
his arms stayed secure around you as he walked through the quiet house, your head tucked against his shoulder while the melting ice pack rested against your cheek, you could hear his heartbeat through his shirt.
by the time he reached his bedroom, your eyes were already drifting shut.
steve laid you down carefully against the pillows like you were made of glass. the mattress dipped beside you as he sat down after, one hand brushing your hair back from your forehead.
“you staying awake for me a little longer?” he asked softly.
you blinked up at him slowly. “depends.”
a tiny smile tugged at his mouth. “on?”
“you gonna kiss me again?”
steve shook his head, smile growing. “you want a kiss?” he whispered.
you nodded slowly as he leaned down to kiss you this time.
when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. the room was quiet, you could hear the rattling of the ceiling fan and the uneven sound of his breathing.
then he pressed one last gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before murmuring softly, “okay. sleep.”
you frowned. “that’s not romantic.”
a tired laugh escaped him. “baby, you almost passed out in the parking lot.”
“still. you could’ve said it nicer.”
steve shook his head, brushing your hair back again. “alright, hold on.” He cleared his throat dramatically. “my dearest love, light of my life, please close your eyes before you collapse from exhaustion in my bed.”
you smiled weakly. “better.”
“yeah?”
“mhm.” your eyes were already slipping shut again. “do that voice more often.”
steve snorted quietly. “you are so concussed.”
you reached toward him blindly, fingers catching weakly in the front of his shirt before he could pull away.
“stay.” the word came out so soft.
steve’s expression softened again. “yeah,” he whispered. “yeah, I’m staying.”
he kicked off his shoes quickly before shifting properly onto the bed beside you and his arms slid around you carefully, pulling you against his chest.
you curled into him without hesitation, one arm tucked between you both while the other rested lightly over his waist. steve adjusted slowly so you could lay without putting pressure on your bruised cheek, one hand staying protectively at the back of your head while the other rubbed slow circles against your back.
“there,” he murmured. “comfortable?”
“warm.”
his lips brushed your forehead. “you scared me so bad today,” he admitted quietly into your hair.
half asleep already, you mumbled, “you said that already.”
“yeah, well.” his fingers tightened slightly against your back. “i’m gonna keep saying it until you understand how serious I am.”
you made a sleepy sound that might’ve been a laugh.
steve’s chest rose under your cheek with a soft sigh.
for a while neither of you spoke.
he just held you, just before sleep finally pulled you under, you felt his lips press softly into your hair.
“i love you,” he whispered.
and even half asleep, you still smiled. " i love you more."
taglist: @louisbelongstome28, @arinadixin, @cuddlyeren ,@uglyahhboii, @ervlvx, @idontread4, @stoneyggirl2.. (i tagged the people asking for a pt2... sorry if you didn't wanna be tagged)
pairings: steve harrington x fem! reader (billys sister)
summary: the school finds out that you and steve have been dating and if the school knows... billy knows and that's not good.
warnings: toxic family dynamics, rumors, verbal degradation, physical fight, choking, accidental hit, bruising, panic, guilt, emotional distress, hurt/comfort, protective steve, billy being billy.. (billy is a warning himself)
notes: give me someone else to write for!! 🤣 my mind keeps going back to steve harrington or joe keery characters in general... lowercase intended!! lightly proofread!
wc: 2.4k
pt2
you sat on the edge of steve’s bed, watching him pace the length of the room. "he’s going to kill me," steve muttered, running a hand through his hair
"he’s actually going to cave my chest in this time," steve continued, his voice hitting a frantic pitch as he spun on his heel to face you.
the panic hadn't come out of nowhere, it had started this morning the second you stepped onto campus, you walked towards your locker... people weren't just looking, they were staring, their whispers filling your ears.
the rumor mill had been working overtime. someone had seen steve’s car parked a few houses down from yours one too many times, or maybe they spotted you two at the Quarry. It didn't matter how it got out, all that mattered was that by third period, the whole school knew. And if the school knew, billy knew.
you found steve leaned against his locker, his face pale. he wasn't even pretending to look at his books. when he saw you, his jaw tightened, and he pushed off the metal, intercepting you before you could reach your own locker.
"he’s in the gym," steve said, his voice low and strained. he didn't say hello. he didn't ask how you were. "tommy H. told him. i saw them talking by the showers. billy didn't even say anything... he just walked out. that’s worse, babe. the silence is way worse."
"steve, look at me," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering against your ribs.
"i'm looking," he said, his eyes darting to the end of the hall as if expecting a blue Camaro to come crashing through the brickwork. "and i’m thinking i should have listened to you. i should have been more careful. now he’s going to take it out on you, or max, or-"
"he's not going to touch me," you interrupted, grabbing his arm. "he's angry, but he knows where the line is. it’s you i'm worried about."
steve let out a dry, humorless laugh, finally meeting your gaze. the fear was there, but beneath it, that protective instinct.
"let him come," steve muttered, though he looked like he might be sick. "i’m tired of looking over my shoulder. if he wants to go again, we’ll go again."
"we don't know for sure that he’s heard yet, okay?... let's just calm down." you sighed.
"i can take a punch. i’ve had plenty of practice."
which was how you found yourself now, still watching him pace around his room.
"steve, breathe," you said, reaching out to catch his hand as he swung past you again, but he was too keyed up to stay still. he pulled away, his palms flat against his cheeks as he resumed his pace across the rug.
"i'm breathing! i'm breathing and i’m contemplating which hospital has the shortest wait time for a shattered ribcage," he said, his voice cracking as he looked through the blinds at the darkening street.
you stood up from the edge of the bed, taking a few slow steps toward him, "steve," you murmured, closing the distance until you were standing just behind him, "steve," you murmured again.
"he’s my brother, steve. i know him. he lives on fear, and right now, you’re giving him a five course meal."
steve let out a shaky breath and finally turned around, you reached up and placed your palms flat against his chest, right over his heart.
he looked down at you, his hair even messier. "i’m not scared for me," he lied, though the shaking in his hands gave him away. he reached out, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of your jeans just to keep himself grounded. "okay, fine, i’m a little scared for me. but i’m mostly terrified that this is the part where he drags you away. and i’m just… i’m not ready to go back to not having you."
"you're not going to lose me," you said, you stepped into the small gap between you, closing the distance until the heat of his body was the only thing you could feel. "billy can throw a punch, steve, but he can’t dictate who I choose to be with."
his grip on your belt loops tightening for a second before he let go to cup your face. his palms were still slightly damp, his skin warm against yours. "he’s going to try, though. you know he is. he’s going to make it his mission to make my life a living hell until i cave. he thinks he’s protecting you, or protecting his 'territory'.. whatever twisted logic he’s got going on."
he searched your eyes, his thumb tracing a slow, nervous path across your lower lip, you reached up, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him down.
when his lips finally met yours, It was desperate, steve groaned softly, one of his hands moving from your face and to your hip, pulling you flush against him as if he were trying to merge you together.
he kissed you like he was memorizing the taste of you, when he finally pulled back, just an inch, his forehead stayed pressed against yours. his breathing was still heavy, but the panic was gone.
he gave you a small, genuine smile, the one that reached his eyes "still a dead man," he joked, his voice dropping to that familiar, cocky pitch. "but definitely a lucky one."
𓂃₊ ⊹
you and steve were hunched over a shared textbook. he wasn't even pretending to study, his leg was bouncing a mile a minute, the thud thud thud of his sneaker against the carpet could be heard.
billy didn't say a word at first. he just pulled out the chair directly across from steve and sat down, backward, resting his chin on his crossed arms.
"you're a hard man to track down today, harrington," billy said, his voice a low. “busy playing house with my sister?”
steve sat up straight, his hand sliding over yours, you glanced up, rolling your eyes. "we're studying, billy. leave it alone." you said.
"studying," billy repeated, the word tasting like a joke in his mouth. he leaned forward, the smell of leather and smoke rolling off him. he looked at you, a slow, grin curling his lips. "is that what we're calling it now? 'studying' the local failure?"
"back off," you snapped, but the sound of your voice only seemed to entertain him.
billy’s gaze snapped back to steve. he reached out and grabbed the edge of the heavy textbook, slowly dragging it toward him until it fell off the table and hit the floor with a loud, echoing bang. the librarian cleared her throat in the distance, but no one moved.
"pick it up," steve said.
billy’s grin didn't falter, he let out a soft, huffing sound... like a half laugh, half scoff and leaned even further over the table, his shadow stretching across the open pages of your notebook. "what was that, harrington?"
"i said pick it up," steve repeated, he finally let go of your hand, but only to plant both palms flat on the table, leaning in until he was eye to eye with billy. "you want to act like a psycho at home? fine. but we’re in a library. Have a little class for once in your life."
"class," billy laughed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "that’s rich coming from a guy who’s one bad semester away from pumping gas for the rest of his life."
"shut up, billy," steve spat, his voice cracking. "just for once, shut the hell up."
billy’s eyes lit up, he’d found the nerve. he reached out, not to shove, but to mockingly flick the bridge of steve’s nose.
steve didn't think, he lunged. he grabbed billy by the collar of his denim jacket and slammed him back against the heavy oak table.
"steve, no!" you cried, jumping up as chairs screeched and toppled over.
the library erupted. billy let out a bark of a laugh, his hands flying up to wrap around steve’s throat, they crashed into a nearby bookshelf, sending a cascade of encyclopedias raining down on them.
steve swung a wild, desperate punch that caught billy in the jaw, but billy didn't even flinch, he just surged forward, pinning steve against the shelves with a sickening thud.
"stop it! both of you!" you rushed forward, grabbing the back of billy’s jacket, trying to haul him off. "billy, let him go! you’re going to kill him!"
"i told you!" billy roared, his voice a frantic. "i told you what would happen!" billy was seeing red, his teeth bared in a snarl as he raised a fist to hammer into steve’s ribs.
you didn't think about the physics of it, you just threw yourself into the narrow space between them, your hands reaching out to shove at billy’s chest.
"billy, stop!"
it happened in a fraction of a second. billy was already in mid swing, he didn't see you. he didn't realize it was you until the heavy crack of his knuckles meeting your cheekbone echoed through the quiet room.
the force of it sent you stumbling sideways, your hip hitting the corner of a table before you crumpled to the floor.
the silence that followed was deafening.
billy froze, his hand still suspended in the air, his chest heaving the look on his face was replaced with a sickening look of horror as he stared down at you.
steve, slumped against the shelves and gasping for air, he looked over and let out a strangled sound of pure agony.
"no," billy whispered, his voice small and stripped of all its bravado. he took a step fprward.
"don't touch her!" steve roared, scrambling across the floor on his hands and knees to get to you first. he hovered over you, his hands trembling as they reached for your face, his own lip bleeding.
"i’m here, i’ve got you," steve choked out, his voice cracking. he didn't grab you, he was too afraid of hurting you more. instead, he just hovered, his fingertips barely grazing your hair. "can you look at me? baby, please, just look at me."
he took another stumbling step forward, his hand reaching out instinctively. "i didn't mean to... "
"i said stay back!" steve snapped, his head whipping around.
"it's okay," you whispered, your voice sounding small and distant even to your own ears. "steve, it’s okay."
"it’s not," steve insisted, his voice thick with a sob he was trying to swallow. he finally reached out, his thumb catching a stray tear on your cheek with the most delicate touch he could manage. "it’s not okay. i’m so sorry. i shouldn't have... i should have just walked away."
"i'm fine, steve," you managed to say again, though the room was spinning slightly. you reached up, covering his hand with yours.
without another word, billy turned and bolted. The heavy library doors swung shut behind him with a dull thud.
"he’s gone," steve murmured into the space between you. "he's gone."
he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression a mix devotion and guilt. he moved his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you into the crook of his neck.
summary: a normal walk with joel turns into the outbreaks beginning when things get crazy and people start getting infected. after a long time skip of surviving on the road, you eventually reach Jackson, a safe settlement. Months later, you’re finally living in peace there.
warnings: apocalypse/outbreak, graphic violence (brief, non detailed), survival themes, emotional distress, mass hysteria, injury, death (implied), happy ending.... thats all???
notes: i think i'd survive if there was ever an outbreak or apocalyspe... the percentage is low but there is still a chance.... lower case intended!! lightly proofread!
wc: 3.7k
it started out as one of those days that felt too good to waste.
the air was warm, sunlight spilling over everything, it was the kind of day where nothing bad should happen.
that’s why you’d dragged him out.
“c’mon,” you insisted, tugging on his hand while he stood half in the doorway, clearly debating if this was worth it. “you’ve been cooped up all week.”
joel squinted at you before shaking his head. “ain’t cooped up. i got work.”
“you’re not working right now.”
“i was about to.”
“you were about to sit on the couch and pretend fixing that radio counts as productivity.”
he huffed at that, already irritated but his fingers tightened around yours anyway, not pulling away.
“…just a walk,” you added, softer this time. “please?”
there was a pause, then a look.
then he muttered, “fine. but if it gets crowded, we’re turnin’ back.”
and that’s how you ended up here, walking side by side down a quiet street, his hand loosely holding yours, your shoulders brushing every few steps.
you were talking about nothing important, some story about a coworker, something dumb you’d seen online and joel wasn’t fully engaged, but he was listening in his own way.
throwing in a quiet “yeah?” or a dry comment that made you roll your eyes.
“you’re not even paying attention,” you accused, nudging his arm.
“i am,” he said, unimpressed. “your coworker... what was it? .. burnt popcorn and blamed the microwave.”
you blinked at him.
he looked down at you, there was the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. “told you.”
"yeah whatever..." you smiled, shaking your head.
his hold on your hand tighten as you swung your arms back and forth, enjoying the rest of the walk in a comfortable silence.
one second, everything was normal enough.
the next, sirens were blaring somewhere in the distance, blending into the panicked shouting of people who didn’t understand what was happening yet, they were running, and the air felt wrong.
somewhere down the street, a man tackled another to the pavement. people screamed. a car slammed into a light pole.
“joel…” you said as the both of you stopped, watching the scenes in front of you. “people are... did you see that? that man just-”
“i saw,” he cut in, joel didn’t look at you right away. his eyes were scanning everything, the street, the people, the pushing and the shoving.
his thumb pressed into the back of your hand once before he tugged you closer to his side. “stay close to me.”
“i am close,” you said, breath catching as someone shoved past you, nearly knocking you off balance.
joel’s arm was around you before you could even react, pulling you into him, his chest solid at your back. “closer,” he muttered.
a small crowd started forming at the corner, people backing away and someone yelling for help.
“…joel?”
he was already moving, not toward it but away.
“c’mon,” he said, sliding his hand back into yours, grip tightening around your hand as he started pulling you in the opposite direction.
“wait- what? shouldn’t we- ”
“no.”
you stumbled slightly trying to keep up with his pace.
“joel, i think someone’s hurt- ”
“i said no.” his voice was sharper now, urgent like.
that’s when you really looked at him.
his posture had changed completely, his shoulders were tense, jaw tight, eyes still scanning everything around you like he was seeing ten steps ahead of where you were.
“something’s wrong,” he added, lower this time.
a scream came from behind you, you started to turn your head before joel's voice stopped you.
“don’t look,” he snapped as he kept walking, faster now. “just keep movin’.”
“joel...” you turned your head again, your steps faltering as the crowd ahead of you scattered in every direction.
and this time, you saw it.
a woman stumbled backward, hands shaking, eyes wide like she didn’t understand what was happening to her. someone else lunged at her fast and grabbed onto her arm.
at first, it looked like panic, like someone clinging for help.
then she cried out and tried to pull away but they didn’t let go, instead they clamped down.
your stomach dropped. “oh my god... joel, he’s.....”
the person didn’t stop, even as she struggled, even as people around them started shouting, their grip only got more aggressive.
the woman twisted, trying to get free, but it was messy, nothing controlled about it.
someone nearby tried to intervene, grabbing the attacker’s shoulder and yanking them back.
for a second, it worked, the woman stumbled away, clutching her arm, her breathing frantic.
but then, the attacker turned on the next person, just as fast and more of it started happening, not just one or two.
down the street, another person went down, and someone else dropped beside them, same frantic grabbing. people tried to help at first, pulling them apart, shouting for someone to call 911 but nothing was stopping.
everywhere you looked, something was off, someone was staggering and someone screaming.
your fingers tightened painfully around joel’s hand. “joel, we can’t just leave them-”
“yes, we can,” he snapped, finally turning to face you fully.
the look in his eyes stopped you cold. “they ain’t thinkin’. you go near that, you’re next.”
your throat went dry. “next for what?”
he didn’t answer and he didn’t need to.
because behind him, another scream tore through the air and when you flinched, you caught sight of someone else being dragged down, people scrambling away from them in panic.
your pulse pounded in your ears. “joel…”
his hand came up, gripping your jaw, firm enough to pull your focus back to him.
“eyes on me,” he said, voice so steady that it cut through everything else. “you listen to me real careful, alright?”
you nodded quickly, heart hammering.
“we are leavin’. right now.” his thumb brushed once under your eye, as everything else spiraled. “you stay close to me, you don’t stop, and you don’t try to help nobody. you hear me?”
“but what if-”
“no.” he said, shaking his head. “there ain’t time for ‘what if.’”
another crash echoed nearby, a car slamming into something and the crowd surged again, people pushing past you in a wave of panic.
joel moved instantly.
his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight against his side as he forced a path through the chaos, his body shielding yours from every direction.
“stay with me,” he muttered.
the closer you got, the worse it became.
every street you crossed felt louder than the last, sirens stacking on top of each other, people shouting over nothing and everything, footsteps pounding against pavement like the whole city was trying to outrun something it couldn’t even name yet.
your hand was locked in joel's, your fingers almost numb from how tight you were holding on.
“joel...” your breath came uneven as you stumbled to keep up with his pace. “slow down...”
“can’t,” he muttered, not even looking back. his grip adjusted instantly though, steadying you without breaking stride. “truck’s two blocks.”
two blocks felt like miles.
another scream cut through the air, closer this time and your shoulders tensed instinctively.
you didn’t turn around, not anymore, you had seen enough.
the screams behind you, were enough to encourage you to keep going, so you pushed.
another few steps, then more.
the truck came into view around the corner, parked halfway up the curb, relief hit so fast it almost made your knees weak.
“there, joel, there...”
“i see it.”
but the moment didn’t last, a man staggered out from between two parked cars just ahead of you, his movements uneven, off balance like he couldn’t control where he was going. at first, it looked like he might collapse.
then his head snapped up and locked onto the nearest person, he lunged.
you froze. “joel!”
his hand yanked you back before you could even think about stepping forward, pulling you tighter against him as the situation unraveled in front of you, shouting, someone trying to pull the attacker away, another voice screaming for help.
“don’t,” joel said sharply against your ear, already shifting your direction. “we go around.”
“but what if- ”
“no.”
he didn’t even slow down, guiding you off the sidewalk and into the street again, putting space between you and whatever was happening behind you.
you reached the truck seconds later.
it felt like a miracle.
joel didn’t hesitate, he let go of your hand just long enough to yank the passenger door open.
“get in.”
you climbed up quickly, your movements clumsy with adrenaline, your foot slipping slightly on the step.
“careful...” his hand was at your waist instantly, steadying you, lifting just enough to get you inside safely.
“i got it,” you breathed, even though your hands were still shaking.
“sit.”
you dropped into the seat, heart racing, turning back toward him just as another shout rang out behind you.
for half a second, he wasn’t there.
the door was still open. “joel-” your voice broke, panic rising again.
“i'm here.”
he appeared immediately, rounding the front of the truck and climbing in fast, slamming the door behind him before you shut your door.
the locks clicked and the engine turned.
your chest heaved as you fumbled for your seatbelt, fingers missing the latch, his hand covered yours, buckling you in with ease.
the truck rumbled to life beneath you and for a second, neither of you moved, just breathing.
then, joel reached for you, his hand closed around yours again, like he needed to feel you there just as much as you needed him.
“you with me?” he asked, voice quiet.
you nodded quickly. “yeah.”
“good.”
he shifted the truck into gear, pulling away from the curb just as another wave of panic surged, people running past, someone desperately shouting for anyone to help,
you turned in your seat, joel’s hand tightened. “don’t,” he said.
you hesitated… then faced forward again, your fingers curled tighter around his. “…okay.”
the truck picked up speed, leaving the street and everything on it behind.
your breathing was still uneven, your chest tight, but Joel’s thumb started moving over your hand in slow, repetitive strokes. “i got you,” he muttered.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
jackson didn’t feel real at first.
even after they gave you a place to stay, it still felt like you might blink and lose it.
now, weeks later, it had started to settle into something almost ordinary.
it was lightly snowing but the air wasn't super cold, the snow drifted lazily outside the windows, and you were slowly getting used to the calm.
joel was at the workbench outside your shared place, sleeves rolled up, focused on something he was fixing... because he was always fixing something.
a chair, a hinge, a fence latch, like if he stopped, the world might start breaking even more.
you leaned in the doorway, watching him for a moment before speaking.
“you’re avoiding me,” you said.
he didn’t look up. “ain’t avoiding you.... three hours is not avoidin’.”
you crossed your arms. “it is when I’ve brought you food twice.”
that finally got a reaction, just a little pause, then a quiet, “didn’t hear you.”
“you were literally two feet away.”
joel finally glanced up at you then, expression unreadable in a way that used to make you nervous and now just made you smile a little.
“…you eat yet?” he asked instead.
you tilted your head. “that’s my question.”
“it’s mine now.”
a small huff left you as you stepped closer, setting the plate down on the edge of the bench beside him.
for a while, you just stood there.
no rushing, no running or sirens in the distance.
just tools clicking softly, wood creaking under his hands.
“you know,” you said after a moment, watching him work, “people here think you’re intimidating.”
he let out a short breath through his nose. “people are right.”
you smiled. "i told someone you’re actually just grumpy.”
“that what you told ‘em?”
“maybe also that you secretly like being helpful.”
joel finally looked at you fully then, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
“c’mere,” he said.
you stepped closer without thinking.
his hand came up, catching your wrist gently and pulling you just enough that you were standing between his knees where he sat. “you talk too much,” he muttered.
you raised a brow, tilting your head. “and yet you keep me around.”
that got a faint exhale from him, almost a laugh.
his hand slid from your wrist to your fingers, lacing them together like it was second nature now.
“yeah,” he said quietly. “guess I do.”
somewhere around, someone called out to a neighbor, a door shut, a dog barked somewhere down the yards.
life.... just life.
“i love you,” you said.
for a moment, joel didn’t respond, not because he didn’t hear you, because he did, you could see it in the way he went still, in the way his hand tightened around yours.
like he was deciding whether to say it out loud or keep it where it usually stayed buried under everything else.
then he looked at you, really looked at you.
your forehead rested against his, as you stared into each others eyes.
his expression softened. “…yeah,” he said quietly.
you blinked a little. “yeah?”
a faint breath left him, almost like disbelief at himself.
“yeah,” he repeated, voice lower now. “i love you too.”
summary: after helping kurt scout "viral" locations for six hours, kurt fails to mention your relationship while being flirted with by a passenger....
warnings: angst, kissing, pet names, jealousy, arguing, brief cheating adjacent behavior (unsolicited kiss), handjob, use of good boy and bad boy... lmk if i missed anything
notes: i really enjoy writing for kurt! hes just so *********, also lightly proofreader.
wc: 1.4k
the car smelled faintly like his cologne and whatever fast food he had grabbed earlier.
you were curled up in the backseat, wearing one of kurt's jacket that you found in his trunk.
you had spent the last six hours helping kurt scout "viral" locations, and the exhaustion had finally hit you like a wall.
the yellow led lights cast everything in a soft glow, making the inside of kurt’s car feel smaller, quieter... almost separate from everything outside.
you hadn’t meant to fall into that quiet. you just got tired.
up front, kurt had one hand on the wheel, the other drumming lightly against it, his hat pulled low and his jacket half zipped like always.
he kept glancing at the road, then at his phone mounted near the dash.
Ping.
"oh, business is booming! yes! yes! finally" kurt chirped, his voice cracking slightly.
you didn’t say anything, just shifted slightly, blinking your eyes open a little more but staying where you were.
he didn’t turn around, didn’t check on you.. probably thought you were asleep.
a few minutes later, the car slowed.
two girls climbed in.
“heyyy,” one of them said, sliding in beside you, her voice bright and loud compared to the quiet you’d been sitting in.
you straightened just a little, offering a small, polite glance. “hey.”
they looked at you for half a second, curious but not enough to ask anything and not enough to care.
then they were already in their own world.
“oh my god, wait, take one of me,” the other girl said, flipping her hair and angling her phone. “no, like this.. yeah, yeah, that lighting is cute.”
the flash went off once and then twice.
you leaned your head back again, watching without really looking.
their voices filled the car, laughter, filters, replays, little comments about angles and captions.
up front, kurt stayed quiet at first, focused on driving.
then one of them leaned forward slightly. “wait, can you turn the music down for a second?”
kurt glanced over, a little startled. “uh.. yeah, yeah, i got you.” he fumbled with the volume, turning it lower.
“what’s your name?” she asked.
“kurt,” he said, quick, too quick.
“kurt,” she repeated, like she was testing it. “that’s cute.”
you felt something shift in your chest at that.
you pushed yourself up a little more in the backseat, your eyes settling on the mirror, watching the way his expression changed.
the way his jaw tightened just slightly, like he didn’t know what to do with the attention.
“oh.. uh, thanks,” he said, scratching at the side of his neck. “appreciate it.”
the other girl laughed, still half focused on her phone. “she says that to everyone.”
“i do not,” the first one shot back, nudging her before leaning forward more, closer to him this time. “so, kurt… you from around here?”
“yeah, yeah, I mean, not too far,” he said, stumbling over the words just a little. “just, uh… drive mostly.”
you could see it.
the way he was folding in on himself a bit, the awkwardness, the way his words started tripping over each other when he didn’t know where to land.
normally, you’d think it was kind of cute.
right now? it didn’t feel like that, because he hadn’t said anything.
not once, not a single word about you sitting right there.
the girl shifted, then, without asking, climbed into the front passenger seat. “oh, my bad,” she laughed, settling in. “it’s easier to talk up here.”
kurt blinked, clearly thrown. “uh...yeah, yeah, it’s cool.”
you sat up fully now, your arms folded loosely over your lap as you watched the whole thing play out.
she leaned toward him slightly, smiling, her voice softer now. “you do this full time?”
“yeah, well kinda,” he said, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "depends.”
“hmm,” she hummed, looking him over. “you seem like you’d be fun.”
his face went red, actually red.
“nah, i.. uh..” he started, stumbling completely now. “i mean, i just.. drive.”
from the backseat, you stared at him.
waiting for anything, a glance, a gesture, a simple... 'my girlfriend’s in the back.' ...but nothing came.
the rest of the ride blurred into their conversation, her teasing, him fumbling, the other girl chiming in between photos and videos.
you stayed quiet, just watching.
by the time they reached their stop, the car slowed again, pulling up under a streetlight. “thanks, kurt,” the girl in the front seat said, unbuckling.
“yeah! yeah, no problem,” he replied.
she paused before getting out, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
your stomach twisted.
“see you around,” she said lightly, like it meant nothing.
then she was gone, both of them were.
the door shut and silence filled into the car, for a second, kurt didn’t move, didn’t breathe.
finally, turned his head slightly, like he just remembered... “…you’re awake?”
you didn’t answer right away.
just looked at him from the backseat, the yellow light catching the tension in your face.
“yeah,” you said finally, voice quiet. “i’ve been awake.”
silence stretched.
then you leaned back again, eyes moving away from him, staring out the window instead.
“just take me home, kurt.”
his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “...what? why are you-”
“just take me home,” you repeated, cutting him off, still not looking at him.
“…it wasn’t like that,” he said after a second, a little defensive, a little confused. “they’re just...passengers.”
you let out a quiet breath, almost like a laugh but there was nothing amused about it.
“mhm.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” he pushed, glancing at you through the mirror.
you sat up again, your eyes finally locking onto his reflection. “you know what you did...” you asked.
he hesitated, just for a second. “I...no,” he said, but it came out less certain than he wanted. “i didn’t do anything.”
you nodded slowly, the car stayed quiet after that, you kept your eyes on the window, watching streetlights blur past in streaks of gold.
you knew the turns to your place, knew the route by heart... so when he didn’t take it you noticed.
your brows pulled together slightly as the car passed the street he should’ve turned on.
“kurt.”
nothing.
your patience snapped. “why are you still driving straight?”
he exhaled through his nose, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “because if I take you home right now, you’re just gonna slam the door and ignore me.”
you scoffed “Oh, you mean like how you ignored me the entire ride?”
“that’s not what happened-”
“you let that girl sit up front,” you cut in. “You let her flirt with you, you let her-”
“ i didn’t let her do anything!” he shot back, voice rising. “she just did it, and i didn’t want to make it weird!”
you stared at him, disbelief written all over your face.
“make it weird?” you echoed. “god forbid you make it weird for her. wouldn’t want to make the random girl in your car uncomfortable.”
“that’s not what I meant-”
“then what did you mean, kurt?” you snapped.
he didn’t answer right away and that silence said enough.
you shook your head, looking away again. “yeah. that’s what i thought.”
another turn, another wrong one.
your stomach dropped slightly when the streets started looking familiar but not in the way you wanted.
“…no,” you muttered under your breath.
he slowed the car and pulled into his driveway, parking.
you let out a dry, disbelieving laugh, already reaching for the door. “you’ve actually lost your mind.”
“don’t-” he started.
“i said take me home,” you cut in, your voice loud now, finally cracking through the control you’d been holding onto. “not kidnap me to your house because you feel like talking.”
“i’m not kidnapping you,” he said, frustrated, turning toward you fully now. “I’m trying to fix this.”
“you should’ve thought about that before you let some girl kiss you.”
you swung the door open, cool air hit your face, and you stepped out without looking back.
“babe i-” he started.
but you slammed the door cutting him off, your shoes hit the pavement a little harder than necessary as you made your way up the short path to his front door, arms wrapped tight around yourself.
behind you, his door opened.
then shut.
“can you just- wait a second?” he called after you, his voice closer now as he hurried to catch up.
you reached the steps, fumbling with the spare key you kept in your pocket, the metal biting into your palm as you shoved it into the lock.
the door swung open, and you stepped into the dark house, trying to slam it shut behind you, but kurt was faster.
his hand caught the edge of the heavy wood, his strength surprising you as he forced his way inside, the door clicking shut behind him with a finality that made the air in the narrow hallway feel twice as thick.
"go back to your car. go find another viral spot. go find another passenger."
"i don't want another passenger," kurt said, his voice cracking as he kicked off his shoes, stepping into your space until you were backed against the small console table in the hall.
"you enjoyed it," you spat, your heart hammering against your ribs. "you liked the attention. i saw your face, kurt. you were beaming."
"i was uncomfortable!" he yelled back, his chest heaving. he ripped his hat off, tossing it blindly onto the table. "i'm awkward, okay? i.. i don’t know how to tell a pretty girl to get out of my face without feeling like a jerk, and I-"
"a pretty girl?" your voice dropped as your eyes snapped to his face "so she was pretty." you tilt your head.
kurt froze, realizing the trap he’d just walked into, but he took a few more steps, until his knees were brushing thighs. "that's not what i meant and you know it," his voice coming out in a whine.
he reached out, his hands gripping the edges of the jacket you were wearing... his jacket.
he bunched the fabric softly in his fists, pulling you slightly forward, he leant down, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. "you’re the one wearing my clothes. you’re the one who’s been in my car for six hours. you think i care about some girl who was in there for ten minutes?"
"ten minutes is plenty of time to notice if someone is pretty, kurt," you roll your eyes, placing your hands flat against his chest and pushing.
kurt, caught off guard by the sudden force, stumbled back a step.
then another, you kept walking forward, forcing him to retreat down the hallway until his shoulder blades hit the wall with a dull thud.
you didn't stop until you were inches from him. "let's talk about 'pretty.'"
kurt swallowed hard, his adams apple bobbing. he looked down at you, his breath hitching. "I told you, I didn't mean it like-"
"do you think she was prettier than me?" you interrupted, tilting your head, your eyes searching his.
"no! god, no," he blurted out, his hands hovering awkwardly near your waist, not sure if he was allowed to touch you yet. "not even close. she was… generic. she looked like a filter. you’re.. you’re real."
"did you like the way she looked at you?" you took a tiny step closer, "the way she leaned in? did it make you feel like a big deal, kurt? like you were finally getting that viral attention you're always chasing?"
you let a small, slow smile tug at the corner of your mouth, seeing him squirm. "and the kiss? was she a good kisser? or did you just let that happen too because you didn't want to be a jerk?"
kurt groaned, his head hitting the wall behind him again as he closed his eyes. "it wasn't even a kiss! it was a.. a collision of skin! it was gross. i literally wanted to bleach my face."
you raised you hand, your palm softly trailing down the side of his neck.
your fingers moved slowly, tracing the line of his jaw before cupping his chin, forcing him to look down at you.
"you were so polite to her, kurt," you whispered, his eyes searched yours. "so careful not to hurt her feelings while you sat there letting her put her hands near you."
you let your other hand wander, sliding beneath the hem of his shirt. the contact of your skin against his warm, tense stomach made him gasp, his back arching a bit against the wall. you felt the muscles of his abdomen tighten under your touch.
"is this making it weird for you?" you teased, your fingers tracing the line of his hip bone. "should I stop so you can go back to being a professional?"
"don't," kurt choked out, you felt him yielding, his body turning into putty under your hands.
"you know," you whispered, your lips hovering just a fraction of an inch from his, close enough that he could feel your breath but not your skin. "I was thinking... since you're such a great host to your passengers... maybe I should just stop coming along with you."
kurts eyes snapped open, clouded with a mix of confusion and pure want. "what? no. you- i want you to ride with me!"
"i don't know, kurt," you hummed, your fingers playing with the band of his boxers. "you seemed so occupied up there... you were doing just fine without me."
"i wasn't," he said, voice cracking, "i was miserable. i was literally counting the seconds until they got out."
You let out a soft, airy laugh, your eyes dropping to his mouth before flicking back up to his.
the hand you had resting on his jaw moved, your thumb now tracing the line of his lower lip, but when he leaned forward to catch your finger with his teeth, you pulled back, just out of reach.
"you're a really bad liar when you're flustered," you sigh. "your face gets all red. just like it did when she called you cute. is that your professional face, kurt? or does that only happen for the pretty girls?"
you kept your gaze locked on his face, watching the way his jaw tightened as you let your hand wander more.
your fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his jeans with agonizing slowness. you heard the sharp intake of his breath, a jagged sound that filled the quiet house.
when your palm finally made contact with his member, a broken, hoarse moan ripped from his throat.
your hand moved, the friction of your palm against him, created a wet, rhythmic sound that echoed in the small space.
you watched his eyes roll back into his head, his long lashes fluttering as he lost the battle with his own composure.
"is this what you wanted?" you whispered, your thumb catching the bead of moisture at his tip, "all that attention tonight... did it feel as good as this?"
"no," he sobbed out, the word hitching in his chest. "it’s... it’s too much. you’re-"
you cut him off by picking up the pace, your grip tightening, you felt his hips jerk forward.
the muscles in his thighs were jumping, rigid and strained as he tried to stay upright.
"watching you with her... it really hurt my feelings.." you say, with a little pout.
"i-i'm sorry- i am.. i-" he started, breathing out.
you moved your hand faster, your thumb circling his head so slowly that it had him whimpering.
he let out a long, high pitched groan that broke into a stuttered plea, his eyes slamming shut as he arched his back.
"i'm... i'm gonna..." he rasped, his voice hoarse as he shoved his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath searing your skin. "baby, i'm gonna make a mess... please, let me..."
you stopped, not completely, but you slowed your hand it was almost torturous.
kurt let out a sound that was half sob, half growl, sniffling into your neck before lifting his head just slightly. "why did you stop? don't.. don't stop now, i'm almost-"
"oh, kurtie," you cooed, tilting your head back to look at him with a look of mock sympathy.
you reached up with your free hand, tracing the line of his reddened cheek, your thumb lingering on the spot where that girl had kissed him. "you’ve been such a bad boy tonight, though."
"i wasn't- i told you.... " he tried to protest, but his voice was weak, failing him as you gave him one quick squeeze that made his back arch further and his eyes roll.
you leaned in, your lips ghosting over his. "good boys don't ignore their partners for ten minutes just for a few likes. good boys don't let strangers kiss them."
"i'm sorry," he whimpered, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath fanning over your face.
he was shivering now, the desperate need for release making him feel like he was about to jump out of his skin. "i'll do anything. just... please. i'm begging you."
with one final stroke, the tension in him snapped.
kurt let out a wrecked, strangled cry, his entire body convulsing against yours.
he clung to you like a drowning man, his fingers bruising your waist as he shuddered through a release that felt like it would never end, his forehead leaning heavily against yours as he completely, fell apart in your hands.
summary: kurt tries to teach you a trick, but your teasing and closeness completely throw him off and leads to ending the stream early.
warnings: flirting, tension, making out, teasing, close proximity, pet names, sexual undertones, breast touching, lmk if i missed anything
notes: i've watched spree so many times, i can actually recite it but oh how i love kurt.
wc: 1k
"Okay, look, look," he muttered, his breath ghosting over your ear. "It’s about the physics, babe. If you don't pop the tail with enough force, the board isn't gonna level out. You’re gonna look like a poser in front of sixty eight people."
The air in Kurt’s room was thick with heat, he already tossed his shirt somewhere on the floor, complaining that the room was getting too hot, and you were currently wearing it.
It was oversized and smelled exactly like him, the hem falling halfway down your thighs as you sat comfortably on his lap.
"Okay, okay, focus, babe! The kurties are watching! You gotta... you gotta pop the tail with your middle finger, see?"
Kurt’s chest was warm against your back, his bare skin slightly tacky from the humidity of the room.
He reached around you, his arms boxing you in as he guided your hand toward the miniature plastic skateboard on the desk.
Kurt was in instructor mode, his eyes darting between the tech deck and the scrolling chat on his monitor.
"No, you're not listening! You have to pop it, then flick," Kurt chirped, his voice cracking slightly.
He placed his hand over yours, his fingers long and clumsy but surprisingly gentle. "It's all in the flick, see? Like... like you're flicking a hater away. Boom! Kickflip!"
He continued guiding your fingers, pressing them down onto the plastic. His movements jerky, overstimulated by the presence of a live audience and the fact that you were shifting your weight in his lap.
You didn't even look at the board, you just watched his reflection in the dark screen of his second monitor.
His face was flushed a deep, messy red, and he was biting his lip so hard it looked like it might bleed.
"I don't think my fingers are in the right spot, Kurt," you hummed, leaning your head back until it rested in the hollow of his neck. "Show me again. Slowly."
Kurt’s composure fractured instantly. He let out an uneven breath, his fingers curling around yours with a bit more pressure than necessary.
He tried to keep his eyes on the tech deck, but they kept flickering toward your reflection in the monitor. He could see exactly how you were looking at him and so could everyone else in the stream.
Kurt’s hand on yours jolted, sending the tiny skateboard flying off the edge of the desk.
The chat was a blur of movement, scrolling so fast it was impossible to read, but you could see the words "SIMP" and "L" flashing over and over again.
"Kurt," you whispered, turning your head just enough so your lips brushed his ear. "I think you're a bad teacher. You're too distracting."
"I-I'm not," he squeaked, his face turning a hue of red that the camera caught in high definition. He tried to look back at the monitor, his eyes darting to the lens as he tried to regain his composure. "Guys, ignore her, she’s just... she’s trying to sabotage the stream. We’re still on the grind. We’re still..."
You shifted your weight again, moving your hips just a little more, and Kurt’s entire sentence died in his throat.
He went completely still, his hands hovering uselessly over the desk. He looked like he was about to short circuit.
The bravado was gone, replaced by that desperate, needy look he only got when he was completely under your thumb.
"Tell them you're done for the night," you murmured, pulling his face toward yours.
Kurt glanced at the camera one last time, his pupils blown wide. He didn't even give a signature sign off or tell them to follow and share. He just reached out with a trembling hand and ended it, before he slammed the phone down, plunging the room into a sudden, heavy silence.
"You're so mean to me," he breathed, his voice dropping into that low, pathetic whine you loved.
He immediately buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist like a lifeline. "You ruined my engagement metrics. Everyone saw that."
"I’m sorry, baby," you murmured, you turned around in his lap, straddling him so you could look him directly in the eyes.
You grabbed his face, your thumbs smoothing over his cheekbones. "Did I mess everything up? Let me make it up to you."
Kurt let out a jagged breath, his head dropping forward until his forehead rested against yours. "You have no idea," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I looked… I looked so weak, and now the algorithm is gonna bury me…"
"i bet you'll get double the viewers you had tonight, next time." you whispered, sliding your hands down his neck to his narrow shoulders, feeling the tension locked in his muscles.
You leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his jaw.
Kurt made a small, frustrated sound deep in his throat, his arms wrapping around your waist again to pull you flush against his chest.
He tasted like the cheap, sour candy he’d been snacking on during the stream, but the way he kissed you was anything but sweet.
It was desperate and messy, his hands fumbling at the hem of the shirt you’d stolen from him, pulling the fabric up so he could feel your skin.
The fabric of the shirt bunched up around your waist as his palms finally met your bare skin, he let out a low, shaky moan into your mouth, his tongue sweeping against yours with a frantic hunger that made your toes curl.
He pulled back just an inch, his eyes glazed as he looked at you, his chest heaving.
your fingers tangling in his messy hair and tugging just hard enough to make his head tilt back.
He gasped, his hands sliding up from your waist to cup your breasts through the thin cotton of his shirt. He was staring at you like you were something he’d won, his thumbs grazing over your nipples until they peaked under the fabric.
The way he looked at you was so intense it was almost overwhelming.
"God, you’re so beautiful," he breathed, his voice breaking.
He leaned down, burying his face in your chest, his lips damp and hot as he kissed his way down to the collar of the shirt. He started nipping at the sensitive skin of your collarbone.
You arched your back, your hands sliding down to his bare shoulders, feeling the way he shivered under your touch. "Kurt," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his skin.
He didn't need any more encouragement.
He hooked his fingers into the hem of the shirt and pulled it over your head in one fluid, impatient motion, tossing it somewhere into the dark corners of the room. Now it was just skin on skin.
He pulled you further down on him, you could feel the hard line of him pressing against you through his jeans.
He let out a jagged, shaky breath, his mouth finding yours again.
summary: You go to Peter’s expecting a normal hangout, only to accidentally discover he’s Spider-Man… and react way more excited than he was prepared for.
warnings: use of y/n, fluff, friends to lovers, mutual crush, identity reveal, humor, mild suggestiveness, awkward nudity (non-explicit), aunt may interruption, chaotic reader, peter parker being a mess, first kiss, light teasing, lower case intended!
notes: reader is said to have hair.. sorry if you're bald! slightly proofread!
word count: 3.9k
you were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, absently flipping through a worn comic book, the pages soft from being read a hundred times over.
the oversized Spider-Man top you borrowed from peter.. and maybe planned on never giving back, slipped slightly off one shoulder, your pajama pants loose and comfortable against your legs.
every now and then, you glanced toward the door, listening for footsteps.
ned had bailed last minute, something about his grandma needing help “cleaning spider webs off the ceiling,” which sounded completely made up but you hadn’t pressed.
honestly… you didn’t mind.
if anything, it made your stomach flutter a little.
because now it was just you and Peter.
you tried not to smile at the thought, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned another page without really reading it.
you’d been looking forward to this all day, telling yourself it was just a normal hangout, nothing special but the quiet would feel different without Ned there filling every silence.
your eyes drifted around peter’s room, the scattered school books, the cluttered desk, the half finished projects and you couldn’t help but feel a little fondness bloom in your chest. It all felt so… him.
and maybe just maybe you liked him a little more than you should.
okay, a lot more.
but it wasn’t like it was one sided… right?
you bit your lip, staring down at the comic in your hands, though your mind had completely wandered.
the way he looked at you sometimes, the way his voice softened just a bit when he said your name…
or how he’d glance at you first when something funny happened, like your reaction mattered more than anyone else’s.
or the way he’d get just a little flustered when you stood too close, like he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands, or his words, or himself... it had to mean something.
a small smile tugged at your lips as you hugged the comic a little closer to your chest.
yeah… you were pretty sure peter liked you too.
a sudden thwip at the window made you jump.
the comic in your hands slipped slightly as your grip tightened, eyes snapping toward the sound.
the window.
something had hit it.
another faint creak followed, the soft rattle of glass shifting in its frame, like something or someone was right outside.
for a split second, everything stilled, your heart kicked hard against your ribs.
peter wasn’t home yet.
and may was downstairs.
so… who?
you slowly sat up straighter on the bed, pulse thudding in your ears, every instinct suddenly on edge as you turned your head and stared at the window, waiting for something, anything to move.
a small tug, so quiet you almost thought you imagined it but no, the bottom edge of the window shifted, just barely, like something was pulling at it from the outside.
the latch gave with a soft click, your fingers curled more on the comic book, gripping harder while your eyes stayed locked on the window as it began to slide open a few inches on its own.
cool air slipped into the room first, brushing against your skin, lifting the curtains just enough to make them sway.
your heart was pounding so loud you were sure may could hear it from downstairs.
the window opened wider.
the outside noise crept in, distant traffic, a horn somewhere far off, the hum of the city.
a slow, creeping chill ran down your spine as something moved around outside of the window.
you couldn't move or speak, it was like you were frozen in place.
a blur crossed your line of sight, and before your brain could catch up, a figure swung through the opening with impossible speed, landing inside peter’s room in one smooth motion.
a quiet thud against the floor, crouched perfectly, like they had done it a thousand times before.
you watched, breath trapped in your chest.
the figure stayed crouched for a second, one hand pressed flat against the wall, the other steadying them on the floor.
muscles coiled, alert, like they were listening for something outside.
oblivious to the fact that someone was already in the room.
then slowly, almost cautiously, they straightened. The light from the window caught the fabric of the suit, and suddenly the details came into focus.
your stomach dropped, 'No way.' you thought to yourself.
standing in the middle of peter’s room was spider-man.
the suit shimmered faintly under the sunlight, all red and blue. Then, almost hesitantly, they reached up and pulled at the mask.
your eyes widened, jaw slowly falling open as the mask came off.
peter parker’s face was revealed, messy hair falling across his forehead, eyes wide and frantic, cheeks already pink from exertion.
peter, unaware that you were already there, exhaled shakily and began loosening the suit.
first he tugged at the shoulders, peeling them down slowly, you stayed silent, captivated, every muscle of your body tense as you watched.
he slid the sleeves off one by one, then slowly reached for the zipper at the back of the suit, sliding it down just far enough to reveal the top of his chest.
then, sliding the arms down, revealing his pale, toned arms that flexed with each subtle movement.
his breath was heavy, his movements were careful, as if he could feel the tension in the empty room even though he thought he was alone.
your eyes, though you tried to look away, betrayed you.
they lingered, dragged along the lean lines of his arms, the curve of his shoulders, and then his back as he slid the suit down further.
and then, without warning, his eyes flicked to the bed.
you. sitting there. watching. silent. time seemed to freeze.
peter froze mid motion, hands clutching the suit at his waist, face flaming red. “y-y/n…” he stammered, voice breaking slightly.
“peter.” your voice came out breathless, barely a whisper at first, then louder as realization hit. “you… you’re… spider-man?!” eyes still tracing him, but now in full realization. “It’s you… the whole time… it was you?”
“how’d you get in here i-“ he spoke, tilting his head before you cut him off.
“may let me in..” “wait… wait… wait!” you shrieked, springing upright. “you’re spider-man?! are you kidding me?! that’s insane! that’s so cool! i can’t believe it’s you!"
peter froze, muscles tensing, eyes wide. “I… I didn’t.. uh…”
you stood up on the bed, jumping around, hands flailing, pacing in excitement.
“this is unbelievable! you’re swinging around the city, saving people, and i had no idea it was you! oh my gosh, peter, i can’t even.. ”
in his panic, flustered and overwhelmed by your energy, peter tugged at the suit’s zipper again. “I... I can’t… just...” he yanked the rest of the spider-man suit off in a desperate attempt to explain, revealing his bare chest and toned torso. by the time he realized it, he was down to nothing but his boxers.
you thought for a second, then pointed a finger at his chest, heart still racing from your excitement. “wait- why didn’t you tell me? why didn’t you tell me it was you this whole time?!”
peter’s mouth opened and closed, cheeks bright red. “I… I… I didn’t… I didn’t think… you’d.. uh…” he scrambled, trying to cover himself with his hands and the discarded suit.
and that’s when it happened, the door swung open.
“peter? Y/N? are you-”
it was May and both of you froze. Your finger was still pointed at his chest. Peter was frozen mid cover, boxers on, red-faced beyond belief. You were half standing on the bed, still vibrating with excitement.
may’s eyes went wide immediately. The image of you two looked… wrong. Very, very wrong.
peter groaned, pressing a hand to his face. “May! I… it’s not what it looks like!”
may blinked at the two of you, clearly mortified herself. “I… I’m going to… give you two a minute.”
and just like that, she spun on her heel and walked out, shutting the door behind her.
the sound of the click echoed in the room.
you blinked at Peter, who was still hunched over, trying desperately to cover himself with the suit. His ears were red, his chest rising and falling quickly.
“well… that was… something,” you said, a grin tugging at your lips, still vibrating from excitement.
peter groaned again, flopping onto his bed beside you, pulling the suit over his lap. “I… I hate you right now.”
you laughed, now sitting, eyes tracing his bare chest. “I love you right now. This is amazing.”
“okay… okay,” you said, leaning back on your hands, still grinning, heart racing. “Seriously… does anyone else know? Like… Ned? MJ? Anyone?”
peter’s eyes went wide. His cheeks flushed deeper, and he shook his head quickly. “N-No! Nobody knows. It’s just… you. You can’t tell anyone. Not Ned, not MJ, not anyone. Promise me.”
you nodded. “Don’t worry… your secret’s safe with me.
you sat up a little straighter, your eyes still on peter. “…What?” he asked cautiously, already suspicious.
you clasped your hands together, leaning forward. “Okay. Hear me out.”
“No.” “I didn’t even say anything yet!”
“I know that tone,” he said, pointing at you.
you grinned. “I just think… hypothetically… as your very trustworthy best friend…”
“Uh-huh.”
“…I should get to try the web shooters.”
peter laughed in disbelief. “…Absolutely not.”
your jaw dropped. “What?! Why not?!”
“Because they’re not toys!” he shot back. “You could, like.. stick your hand to the ceiling! Or your face! Or something worse!”
“That sounds awesome,” you said immediately.
“That sounds like a hospital visit,” he corrected.
you scooted closer, grabbing his arm lightly. “Peter, come on. Just once! I won’t even aim at anything important. I’ll aim at, like… your chair.”
“My chair is important!”
you groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the bed. “You’re no fun.”
“I am fun! I just don’t want you accidentally webbing May to the wall!”
you snorted. “Okay, first of all, I would never...” There was a pause. “…Okay, maybe a small chance, but still!”
peter shook his head, trying not to laugh. “No. Not happening.”
you sat up again, closer this time, closer than before.
"I’m getting dressed. This conversation is over.”
“Please?” you said, softer now.
he hesitated, big mistake because you noticed immediately.
“Oh my god, that almost worked,” you whispered, eyes lighting up. “Peter.. ”
“Nope,” he said quickly, standing up. Peter was shaking his head, pacing a little now, running a hand through his already messy hair.
“No. Nope. Bad idea. Terrible idea,” he muttered. “You with web shooters? That’s statistically a disaster.”
you followed him with your eyes, arms crossed, trying not to smile. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I am not being dramatic. I have experience with these. You don’t.”
you slid off the bed and stepped closer. “Then teach me.”
he stopped pacing. “…Teach you?”
“Yeah,” you said simply. “You said they’re not toys. Fine. Show me how to use them properly.”
he hesitated. you could see the argument forming, the refusal right there. Then he sighed, a long, defeated sigh.
“…One shot,” he said, pointing at you. “One. You aim at something harmless. You listen to everything I say. And the second it goes wrong, I take them back.”
your entire face lit up. “Wait... really?!”
“I’m already regretting this,” he mumbled.
“Peter!” You grabbed his arm, practically bouncing. “You’re the best!”
"Yeah yeah." He said, as he turned around, walking toward his closet where he tossed his suit in.
you watched, very much not looking away this time, as he hurriedly grabbed a pair of plaid pajama pants.
he glanced back at you, feeling your eyes on him. "Turn around!"
you didn’t.
you just raised an eyebrow.
“Y/N.”
“Peter.”
“…Please.”
you hum as if in thought, but finally turned around, holding your hands up. “Fine. I’m being respectful. Look at me, respecting your privacy.”
“I don’t believe you,” he muttered, scrambling behind you.
you could hear the quick shuffle of fabric, the thump of him nearly tripping, a quiet “ow.. ” under his breath.
“…You okay?” you asked, trying not to laugh.
“I’m great,” he said, very obviously not great.
a few seconds later, “Okay. You can turn around.”
you did, he was in plaid pajama pants, a lightly wrinkled t-shirt and his hair was even messier.
“…Wow,” you said, looking at him like you were seeing him for the first time. “You clean up nice, Spider-Man.”
he groaned. “Please don’t call me that.”
“No promises.”
he moved to his desk, grabbing one of the web shooters. When he came back, his expression was serious, focused in a way you hadn’t seen before.
“Okay,” he said, gently taking your wrist. “Hand out.”
you obeyed immediately, he slid the web shooter onto your wrist, his fingers brushing your skin as he adjusted it. “It fits… okay, I think.”
your breath hitched just a little. “Feels… cool.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said quickly, he lifted your hand slightly, guiding your fingers into position. “Alright. You press here, but only when you’re aiming. And you have to flick your wrist like this...”
his hand wrapped around yours to demonstrate, for a second, neither of you spoke. Then you whispered, “You’re, like… really good at this.”
he huffed softly. “I’d hope so.”
you glanced up at him, your faces closer than you realized.
“…Okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “Target. Uh.. chair. You said chair.”
you nodded, forcing yourself to drag your eyes away from him.
“On three,” he continued. “One… two…”
you didn’t wait for three.
thwip!
the web shot out, sticking perfectly to the chair across the room.
both of you froze, then your eyes went wide. “I DID IT?!”
peter stared at the web, then back at you. “…You actually did it.”
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
you were still buzzing.
like, actually buzzing, pacing a little, shaking out your hands like you’d just had ten cups of coffee.
“I can’t believe that worked,” you said for what had to be the fifth time, staring at the web still stuck to the chair. “I mean.. I can, because I did it but also, I can’t.”
peter leaned against his desk, arms crossed, trying very hard to look unimpressed.
“Beginner’s luck,” he said.
you spun toward him immediately. “Excuse me?!”
“I’m just saying,” he shrugged, failing to hide a small smile, “first try? Suspicious.”
you narrowed your eyes. “You’re jealous.”
“I am not jealous.”
“You are. You’ve been doing this for, what, months? Years? And I nailed it in one shot.”
“I was bitten by a radioactive spider,” he shot back. “You had a tutorial.”
“Still counts.”
he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, well, tutorial’s over. Hand it back.”
you immediately clasped your hands behind your back. “No.”
peter blinked. “No?”
“One more.” “No.” “Peter.” “Y/N.”
“One more,” you repeated, stepping closer, your voice dropping just slightly.
he shook his head, but he didn’t step away. “I said one shot.”
“And I listened. I did everything right.”
“That doesn’t mean you get unlimited turns!”
“Not unlimited,” you said quickly. “Just… one more.”
“No.”
you tilted your head, studying him, before you stepped even closer, close enough that he had to look down just slightly to meet your eyes.
“…Are you really gonna take it away after I was that good?” you asked, softer now.
he hesitated again and you saw it again.
“Oh my god, you’re thinking about it,” you whispered, a grin tugging at your lips.
“I’m not...” “You are.” “I’m really not...”
“You are,” you insisted, gently catching his wrist. “Come on. I won’t mess it up. I promise.”
his gaze flicked down to where your hand was touching him, then back up to your face. “…One more,” he said finally, like it physically pained him. “And that’s it. Seriously.”
your face lit up instantly. “Yes!”
“I mean it.”
“I know, I know,” you said, already holding your arm out again.
he sighed, but stepped in, adjusting the web shooter back into place on your wrist. “Okay, same rules.”
“Same rules,” you echoed.
his fingers were slower this time, more careful, like he was suddenly very aware of every point of contact.
“Alright,” he said quietly. “Focus.”
you nodded, but your attention drifted the second he stepped in closer behind you, closer than before.
his arm came around yours again, guiding your aim.
“Target,” he murmured. “Desk.”
“Mhm.” “Wrist straight.” “Mhm.”
“Focus,” he murmured again.
you tried, you really did but it was a little hard when you could feel him this close.
“…Peter,” you said softly.
“Yeah?”
“I forgot what I was aiming at.”
he let out a quiet, breathy laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Your fault,” you said. “You’re distracting.”
“I’m distracting?”
“You’re the one hovering.”
“I’m teaching!”
“Mhm.”
“…You gonna shoot?” he asked, voice quieter now.
“…Maybe,” you said, but you didn’t move your hand.
instead, you turned your head slightly.
he was right there.
close enough that your noses almost brushed.
his breath hitched and for a second, he didn’t move.
you glanced down at his lips before your eyes met his, watching him as he slowly leaned in, closing the gap.
the kiss was soft at first, a little tentative, like he was still catching up to what was happening but it didn’t stay that way for long.
his hand shifted slightly against your arm, steadying you as you kissed him back, the was kiss a little more sure this time, a little less hesitant.
the web shooter was completely forgotten.
when you finally pulled back, your lips still tingling, you smiled faintly. “…Okay,” you said softly.
he blinked. “Okay?”
you lifted your wrist up in front of you again, the web shooter still snug against your skin. “Now I can focus.”
it took him a second, then his eyes widened just a little. “Wait..”
thwip!
the web shot out clean and fast this time sticking to the edge of his desk with a soft tck.
you gasped, eyes lighting up all over again. “I DID IT AGAIN!” You laughed, pure excitement bubbling out of you as you grabbed his arm. “Twice! That’s not beginner’s luck anymore!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe you’re a fast learner.”
“Maybe I’m just that good.”
the web hung forgotten across the room on the edge of his desk.
your hand slowly slipped from his arm to his hand instead, fingers brushing against his.
“…So,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips, “does this mean I get promoted to… assistant Spider-Man?”
peter groaned, but didn’t let go of your hand. “Absolutely not.”
summary: tipsy and frantic over barbs disaperance, you take it out on steve.
warnings: alcohol consumption, emotional distress, angst, verbal conflict, happy ending.. lmk if i messed anything.
word count: 2.5k
notes:...slightly proofread
You staggered toward the punch bowl at the far end of the living room, music and laughter bouncing off the walls.
The alcohol and juice mix gleamed under the dim lights. You needed it, you needed something to numb the panic gnawing at your stomach about Barb.
Steve’s voice echoed behind you, almost pleading. “No! Hey.. stop!”
"Get off" you said, wobbling slightly, your lips formed in a pout.
“No,” he said, catching up to you, "You’ve had enough,” he said firmly, grabbing your arm and yanking you gently away from the bowl.
“Screw you!” you snapped, jerking free.
Before he could stop you, you dipped the cup deep into the punch, filling it up.
“I’m serious, stop! No, no, no!” Steve said, grabbing the cup. "I'm serious!"
“Steve, stop!” you yelled, pulling it back.
"Put it down." He said, trying to take the cup.
"No." You tugged harder.
He tugged harder. Back and forth, the cup swinging between you.
“Put it down!” he said, teeth clenched.
“No! Steve, stop!” you shrieked, both of you holding tight, arms straining.
Then, he let go.
Your momentum carried the cup forward. Punch splashed over the front of your top, drenching it in sticky red liquid.
Gasps echoed through the room. Conversations froze. Everyone turned to watch the spectacle as you stood there, soaked, chest heaving, eyes wide.
Steve froze too, guilt and shock on his face.
You glared down at the mess, trying not to think about how much worse tonight could get.
your eyes snapped up at Steve, you glared at him for a second, and then, without a word, you set the cup down on the counter and spun on your heel, walking away.
“Hey! Come on!” Steve called after you, but you didn’t turn or stop.
He sighed and hurried after you, catching up in the hallway.
You didn’t stop until the bathroom door came in sight. Steve followed you inside and shut the door behind both of you, cutting out the music and everything else.
Steve stepped closer, running a hand through his perfect hair, clearly trying to apologize. “I’m sorr-"
Before he could finish, you turned on the sink, wetting a random rag and started rubbing at the punch stain on your top.
Steve watched at you, voice tired. “That… that’s not coming off.”
“It’s coming,” you said, your voice slurring just slightly, a hint of anger in your tone.
He looked at you, a mix of disbelief and helplessness washing over him.
Steve sighed, eyes softening despite himself. He stepped closer, moving carefully around you, and placed a gentle hand on your elbow. “Come on… let me take you home,” he said, his tone careful, trying to guide you without startling you.
“Don’t touch me!” you snapped, stepping back, your voice harsher than you intended. “Just leave me alone!”
Steve didn’t back off. He moved slowly, hands open, not grabbing anymore, "Come here. Let me take you- just let me take you home.”
you slid your hands along your top, the wet sticky stain spreading even more as you do.
“let me take you home and everything'll be fine.” he speaks softly, watching you through the mirror as you worsen the stain.
“Fine?!” you scoffed, turning your head to look at him.
He blinked.
"You don’t get it! She’s gone, Steve! And you’re just… standing there like a moron!”
Steve flinched. “Okay, okay. Calm down.. ”
“Calm down?” you shouted, voice cracking. “How the hell am I supposed to calm down? No one cares! She could be-” You stopped yourself, swallowing hard. “She’s missing! And everyone’s acting like it’s a joke. And you…”
Steve ran a hand over his face, jaw tight. “Hey.. hey, I get it! I know it’s messed up. I know! But yelling at me… it’s not gonna fix anything.”
“You don’t get it!” you shouted, taking a shaky step toward him, rag still clutched in your hand. “Nothing’s fine, Steve!"
“You think everything’s fine! Everything’s perfect! Like… like we’re in love and that makes none of this is wrong!” Your voice cracked, before you continued. “and we can just… move on like nothing happened!”
Steve flinched, hurt flashing across his face. "like we're in love?" His hands move toward your face, cupping your cheeks gently.
His eyes searching yours. “You don’t love me,” he said quietly, his voice breaking just slightly.
"Everything's wrong steve!"
Steve’s hands lingered on your face a moment longer, thumbs brushing gently over your cheekbones. His eyes searched yours, trying to reach through your anger and grief.
Slowly, Steve let his hands fall away. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he took a step back, then another, and with that, he turned and left, the bathroom door clicking softly behind him.
you stared at your reflection in the mirror for a second. Then, almost mindlessly, you continued scrubbing at the punch stain spreading across your top.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
A little while later, you finally pushed yourself off the bathroom counter, your shirt was ruined, but you didn’t care about that anymore. The party noises crept back in from the hallway.
You stumbled toward the living room, eyes scanning for him.. Steve. “Where… where is he?” you muttered to yourself.
You wandered past the crowd, weaving slightly, ignoring the concerned glances, trying to find him. But he was nowhere in sight. Panic bubbled up. "Steve?" you called out.
You reached the front door and paused, hand on the handle, then stepped outside. Cool night air hit your face, sobering you just enough to make your pulse spike. You looked around, the dark yard scattered with people laughing, cigarettes glowing, but still… no Steve.
“Steve!” you called again, louder this time, voice cracking. “Steve! Where are you?”
Your steps carried you across the yard, swaying slightly. You didn’t care about judgment or who saw you.. all you could think about was finding him.
A calm voice interrupted your frantic search. “Hey, hey… slow down.”
You turned to see Jonathan, concern written across his face. “You’re gonna hurt yourself out here. Come on, let’s get you inside, okay?”
“I… I need Steve!” you breathed out, shaking your head. “I need him! He… he needs to know-”
“I know, I know,” Jonathan said gently, stepping closer, keeping his hands raised to show he wasn’t trying to grab you. “But you’re too tipsy to be wandering around. Let me help you.. just for a bit.”
“No!” you snapped, swaying in place, hair falling in your eyes. “I don’t care! I… I need Steve! I need to go to him!”
Jonathan exhaled, realizing you weren’t going to calm down. “Okay… okay. We’ll go to him. But I’m taking you there safely, alright? so you won't get lost.”
You blinked at him, hesitant for only a moment before nodding, relief and desperation written across your features.
Jonathan sighed softly, guiding you to his car.
You climbed into the passenger seat, still fidgeting, eyes darting everywhere like you might catch a glimpse of him in the distance.
Jonathan slid in beside you and started the car. The engine hummed, the lights from the street casting shadows across your face.
“I… he… he has to know,” you muttered, hands gripping the edge of the seat.
Jonathan nodded, keeping one hand lightly on the wheel while the other rested nearby in case you lost your balance. “I know,” he said softly. “You’ll see him soon. I’ll get you there.”
The ride was quiet, except for your murmurs and hiccuped phrases, repeating Steve’s name, over and over.
The car came to a stop in front of Steve’s house. You barely waited for Jonathan to kill the engine before unbuckling yourself, fumbling with the door.
You stumbled out onto the porch, almost tripping over the bottom step as you slammed your hands against Steve’s door.
“Steve! Steve! It’s me! Open up!” You shouted, voice cracking, echoing down the quiet street.
Your hands slammed on the door again, over and over, tears stinging your eyes.
A shadow moved behind the door for a moment, then the lock clicked. The door swung open, and there he was.
Steve, eyes wide, hair messy, face tense, taking in the sight of you.
Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest.
Steve froze for a moment, then wrapped his arms gently around you, holding you as steady as he could.
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, a few stray tears running down your cheeks. “I… I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice trembling. “I do… I love you, Steve.”
Steve’s hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing your wet cheeks. “I know… I know,” he said softly.
You clung to him again, hiccupping, “I’m sorry for everything,” you whispered again, voice muffled against his chest. “For yelling… for losing it…”
Steve shook his head, his arms tightening around you. “Don’t. You don’t have to apologize. You’re allowed to feel everything, right now, especially. I get it. I… I just want you safe. That’s it.”
“I love you,” you whispered one last time, leaning into him fully.
“I love you too,” Steve replied, voice low, raw, and certain. “Always.”
Finally, Steve pulled back, his eyes softening as they met yours, a small, tired smile on his face. “Come on… let’s get inside before we freeze out here.”
