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.”
"Don't move, arch that ass back for me,” Cameron swore at you. He hung low over your shoulder, his voice all rough like he owned every inch of you. Your nails scraped against the cold concrete wall, body tremblin' as he slammed into your pussy from behind, no mercy in his thrusts. Didn't matter, you were wet enough to let him go as fast as he wanted in you.
The area was dark, you couldn't see much, just the wall in front of you and occasionally a glimpse of him. You bit down hard, tryin' to stifle the moan risin' up, but it slipped out anyway.
“Fuck—Cam, please don't do this here,” you whispered, voice shakin', even as your hips pushed back against him on instinct. He chuckled deep in his chest, that sound vibratin' through you while his big hand pressed firm on your lower back, pinnin' you in place.
“Shut that shit up." His eyes drag over you, slow. “Don’t act confused now, stop fightin', you know you need this dick tearin' you up.'.” His words hit like a slap, but damn if they didn't make your walls clench tighter around him.
Yeah, you did it on purpose. The outfits, the tone, the way you talked around him, you knew he’d catch it. You played it just right, sweet when you needed to be, subtle enough not to look obvious. You thought you had him for a minute. Thought he was starting to fold.
“You really thought I ain’t peep that?” His voice drops, gravelly and close, the words hanging heavy in the stale air between you. You open your mouth, words forming on your tongue, about to play dumb.
"What are you talking about?" You ask quietly. He shifts, his footsteps silent on the concrete, “All that sweet shit…” he says low. “That ain’t even you.” Your heart beats, and fast.
You knew he knew, that moment before. When he leaned in slow, lips hovering near yours, teasing like he's about to give you that kiss, eyes half-lidded but locked on you with that same knowing glint. But then his hands move, fingers hooking into the waistband of your bottoms, yanking them down in one rough tug. Next thing you know, you're bent over, panties half ripped to the side. He might as well take em off you, but he wanted you to remember this. This moment, him fucking you relentless.
The hallway echoed with the slick sounds of your wetness mixin' with his precum, every sloppy pound fillin' the air. You clamped a hand over your mouth, nails diggin' into your cheek, but he wasn't havin' it. Cameron snatched a fistful of your hair, yankin' your head back just enough to make your neck arch, forcin' you to meet his eyes over your shoulder.
“Look at me while I fuck you, baby. Ain't no hidin' now.” His grip tightened, that pull sendin' sparks down your spine, mixin' pain with the pleasure buildin' deep in your pussy. You looked at him, taking in all the detail of him. His shoulders flexed, his cross chain swinging with every thrust he gave you.
“Cam... someone might hear, might see,” you gasped out, tryin' to twist away a little, but he just drove in harder, makin' your knees buckle.
“Yeah? That's what you worried about, somebody see you like this?”
He slowed his pace just a tease, grindin' deep so you felt every thick inch of his dick, throbbin' inside you, but he didn't stop. Never did. You weren't supposed to be here, not like this. But he'd cornered you, whispered all that filthy shit to you till you caved. Slowly walking up to you, lightly touches, he knew just what to do. Now you were hooked, ass bouncin' back to meet him even as your mind screamed to stop. Your body ignored every problem your mind told you. Your hands pushed in the wall like you holdin' on for your life, but pleasure coiled tight in your gut. Your pussy gushed around his dick, massaging him as he pumped in and out of you.
“Maybe... shit, please, not so rough,” you mumbled, voice all breathy and broken, but he only grinned, that cocky athlete smirk lightin' up his face. He yanked your hair up again, pullin' you flush against his chest for a second. His pace slowed for a sec, just so you could focus on his words and not his dick. His free hand slide down to grip your hip, bruisin' the skin.
“Nah, you takin' it just like I want,'' he mumbles. He keeps up this slow rhythm, that slow grind, plap—plap—plap, his hips rollin' deep into you, stretchin' you out with every thrust. "Throw that ass back—show me how bad you need this.”
“Cam please” you whimpered, body goin' slack under his control, matchin' his rhythm even as tears pricked your eyes from the intensity. He picked up speed, dick plungin' in faster, the wet clap of his balls against your ass ringin' out loud in the empty space. You arched up, pussy squeezin' him greedy, walls flutterin' as he hit that spot over and over, makin' your legs shake like they 'bout to give out.
“That's right, my good lil' girl, lettin' me use you out here where anybody could walk up,” he murmured, voice husky and teasin', but his hand snaked 'round front, fingers findin' your clit and rubbin' firm circles that had you buckin'.
"You got my attention now baby, fuck" he says quietly against you. You whimper quietly, muttering stuff underneath your breath. So many jolts ran through your whole body, your moans spillin' free despite your efforts to hold 'em back. He didn't ease up, poundin' relentless, pushin' you right to the brink.
“Bout to make this pussy gush all over me, ain't you?” You shook your head weak, but your hips rolled back harder, chasin' that high even as you begged, “I... I can't, Cam, too much—gonna cum if you don't stop.”
He laughed low, thrusts comin' deeper, heavier, his fingers pressing just right on your clit.
“You gon' cum for me anyway. Squeeze this dick, let me feel you break.” Your body tensed, pushin' back desperate now, pussy grippin' him like a vice, pullin' him in deeper with every stroke.
“Please... I ain't—, I can't hold it,” you cried out soft, voice crackin'. “Then cum on this dick, give it all to me,” he demanded, not lettin' up for a second.
authors note, not well thought out but I will write another, that's why this one just a blurb 🌚🤞🏽
bsf!rafe who’s known you since you started at kook academy, back when everything was easier, when he didn’t know how to grieve his mom, didn’t know how to process his dad, didn’t know how to handle any of it, but somehow he always knew you’d be in his corner.
bsf!rafe who would show up at your place at 2am more times than either of you can count, barely holding it together, and you never once turned him away. he let himself fall apart in front of you in ways he never would with anyone else. his head in your lap, your fingers running through his hair while he tried to pretend he was fine.
bsf!rafe who chased everything trying to feel something, trying to fill that empty void, from alcohol to drugs, to throwing his money on stupid shit, like an expensive bike, or a new yacht. but all he really needed to ever feel okay was someone who would just choose him, like you always did.
bsf!rafe who only lets you drive his porsche 911. he won’t even hand the keys to kelce or topper but tosses them to you without hesitation. “I trust you” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
bsf!rafe who buys you anything without making a big deal out of it. bags, jewelry, little things you mentioned once in conversation, and shrugs it off with, “money doesn’t mean shit when it comes to you.”
bsf!rafe who knows everything about you without trying. your coffee order, your favorite songs, the exact perfume you wear, and swears he notices immediately when something’s off.
bsf!rafe who gets that quiet, irritated look when people ask if you’re his girlfriend, “nah, just my best friend” but something about it never sits right with him anymore.
bsf!rafe who almost lost it on topper for talking about you like that, stepping in before he could even finish his sentence. “watch your fucking mouth.” he tells topper, inches away from his face, making topper fall back, with his hands up
bsf!rafe who can’t stand seeing you with other guys, and acts off the second you mention a date, going quieter, shorter with his words. “he good enough for you?” but doesn’t know what to call the feeling, he just knows it makes his chest tighten and his mood flip instantly.
bsf!rafe who knows that if he calls, you’ll come, no matter where you are, no matter who you’re with, and there’s something about that that both comforts him and absolutely messes with his head.
bsf!rafe who leans a little too close sometimes, lets his hand linger a second too long, says things that toe the line, but doesn’t want to ruin what you have, but at the same time, the idea of someone else having you? yeah, no that’s not something he can ignore much longer.
bsf!rafe who has a spare key to your place, so he doesn’t knock when he comes over, he just walks in like it’s his place, calling your name until he finds you.
bsf!rafe who has a spot in your room that’s basically his at this point, so whenever you’re with other friends in your apartment they know not to touch or be in ‘rafes spot’
bsf!rafe who steals your food without asking but will absolutely buy you whatever you want five minutes later.
bsf!rafe who will call you for the silliest things like what shirt he should wear or what he should eat, because your opinion just matters the most.
bsf!rafe who lets you mess with his hair, his rings, his watch collection. stuff he wouldn’t let anyone else touch without a second thought.
bsf!rafe who has inside jokes with you that literally no one else understands, and the two of you will be laughing while everyone else is confused.
bsf!rafe who lets you wear his hoodies and never asks for them back knowing you look better in them anyway, even though he’ll complain about it every time. “you’ve got like five of ‘em.”
bsf!rafe who texts you “you busy?” but not for anything serious, just because he’s bored and wants to annoy you.
bsf!rafe who will defend you instantly, no hesitation, even if he doesn’t fully know what’s going on yet.
bsf!rafe who will absolutely argue with you over the dumbest things, then be over it five minutes later like nothing happened.
bsf!rafe who trusts you with things he doesn’t tell anyone else, even when he doesn’t say it out loud.
bsf!rafe who keeps a photobooth picture of you and him in his wallet that you put in there as a joke one night. and he refuses to take it out because, ‘that’s his girl’
bsf!rafe who will sit through things he absolutely hates just because you like them, movies, shopping, whatever, complaining the whole time but never actually thinking of leaving. but when it comes to the victoria secret runs, oh how he wishes he could be in the dressing room with you.
bsf!rafe who has a different tone when he talks to you compared to everyone else. It’s softer and less guarded, even if he doesn’t realize it.
bsf!rafe who started calling you “princess” as a joke because you were such a spoiled brat, always getting your way, always a little dramatic, but then it just stuck.
bsf!rafe who says it so casually now, like it’s second nature. “relax, princess,” “c’mon, princess,” but there’s never any real malice behind it.
bsf!rafe who lowkey enables it too, even while teasing you about it, rolling his eyes as he hands you what you want anyway. “for the spoiled princess.”
bsf!rafe who’s the only one who can get away with calling you that without it sounding condescending, because coming from him it just feels familiar, and yours.
bsf!rafe who’ll mumble “such a princess” under his breath when you complain about something minor, but there’s a small smirk on his face every time. but would absolutely get angry if anyone else tried to call you that, though. that’s his thing.
bsf!rafe who notices you don’t correct him, and honestly don’t even react to it half the time, and something about that makes him say it more. and he’ll say it when you’re upset too, quieter like, “hey..don’t do that princess,” like it’s his way of grounding you without making it too sentimental.
bsf!rafe who in the end, doesn’t even realize when it started, the way he looks at you, the way he needs you, the way he’s always thinking about you every time, but somewhere along the way, you stopped being just his best friend.
Summary: at the young age of 21 you had seemly adopted your younger brother and his 5 friends as your own kids. But there was something about their other mother Steve Harrington that made life feel normal again.
જ⁀➴ ♡ Fluffy but Angsty – they’re both terrified as most young adults should be when the worlds ending.
A/N: Yes, I woke up this morning and wrote this after dreaming about it and being surprised about the positive reception to my first fic. Thank you so much for allowing me to have a creative outlet once again!
Word Count: 1,797.
The house never really sleeps anymore.
It just, settles – it creaks, sighs and breathes around the bodies scattered across couches and mattresses, everyone half-expecting the lights to start flickering again at any given wrong move. You move quietly through it, bare feet carefully maneuvering against cold floorboards as you gather abandoned plates and cups from the living room.
Dustin is out cold on the floor in a sleeping bag he’d brought over insisting it was “just in case”, his mouth open drooling. You pause long enough near him to tug an extra blanket over him, brushing curls out of his forehead.
“Idiot,” you whisper fondly.
This had become the routine, Friday night refuge at the Harrington household. Your brother carefully setting out his DnD supplies continuing the latest campaign with his friends. You quietly observing with the older young adults making sure they had enough snacks and drinks for hours whilst exchanging the latest gossip with Nancy and Robin.
The kitchen light is blinding as you flick it on, leaving it on anyway despite the stinging in your eyes. The sink is full, again. You carefully roll up your sleeves and turn the tap on; the rush of water is loud in the silence that fills the house. Dried pizza sauce on a plate as you scrub harder than you need to.
It’s easier to focus on this than the way your chest still feels tight from earlier. Another close encounter with a Demogorgon, you carefully shielding the kids as you watched Steve throw himself in front of you without hesitation. From the way his hands had been visible shaking afterwards while he still pretended everything was fine.
You hear footsteps behind you.
Not Dustin’s – their too heavy, too slow.
“You don’t have to do that.” Steve’s voices echoes softly.
You glance over your shoulder. He’s standing in the open doorway, hair a mess, t-shirt stretched thin across his shoulders, one arm wrapped loosely around his ribs like it had been earlier when you watched him try to understand the game. He’s holding himself like he’s guarding a bruise he hadn’t told anyone about.
Of course he hadn’t.
“Someone has to” you reply, turning back to the sink “and everyone else has died from exhaustion.”
A pause.
“Yeah” he says. “Guess that’s true.”
He lingers. You can feel it – the way he always does. Like he wants to say something more but just doesn’t know how to. Like he’s afraid the wrong word will knock the fragile relationship between you apart and shatter onto the floor in a million unrepairable pieces.
You rinse a plate and set it in the rack. One after another.
Steve steps closer, slowly leaning against the counter beside you. You can smell the way there is a faint scent of soap and sweat coming from him, but under it there is something warm and familiar. Safety, if you had to put a name on it. Your heart does a stupid little slip anyway.
“You, okay?” he asks.
You laugh quietly, humorless. “Define okay Harrington.”
He hums. “Fair.”
For a moment, that’s all there is – the water, the dishes, the quiet hum of the fridge. You’re hyperaware of his presence next you. Of how close he is without actually touching you, or how easy it would be to lean into him.
You stop yourself.
Steve reaches past you suddenly, his chest grazing your back slightly and you flinch before you can stop yourself.
“Sorry” he murmurs immediately. “Didn’t mean to- “
“It’s fine” you say, a little too quickly for your liking.
His fingers reach out to grab a cassette player resting in the windowsill. His touch rests for a second as he observes it carefully before pulling away from you. You watch him fiddle with the tape that was already in there, brow furrowed in a deep concentration like this is the most important thing he’s ever done.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
He shrugs without looking at you. A stray strand of hair falling over his forehead. “Couldn’t sleep.”
A soft click, then music spills into the room – slow, gentle and worn around the edges. Not loud enough to wake the others in the nearby rooms, but loud enough for the two of you that it neatly filled the space. It’s something that is not too old but feels like it belongs to a different point in your life, not one where you live in fear.
You turn the sink off.
“Steve.” You say, exasperated but fond despite yourself, “It’s like… two in the morning.”
“I know.” He finally looks at you. His eyes are tired. Too tired. “Just – come here for a second?”
He’s holding his hand out.
Not playful. Not cocky. Just open.
Your heart skips a beat. You glance towards the hallway, instinctively checking on Dustin even though you know he long asleep. Old habits die hard.
“This is a bad idea.” You say.
Steve’s mouth twitches into a slight smirk. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Probably.”
You hesitate anyway. Then – slowly – you place your hand in his.
His fingers close around you like he’s afraid you’ll change your mind.
He draws you closer, one carefully steps at a time towards him. His other hand reaches out to settle on your waist, warm and grounding. There’s space between you at first, it’s polite, cautious.
The music hums softly around you.
Steve sways, barely moving his feet from where they were planted in the floor, like he’s not entirely sure this is real, that you’re here. You follow his lead, your free hand coming to rest awkwardly against his chest.
You can feel his heartbeat.
It’s fast.
Your head tips forward without you really deciding to, resting against his shoulder. You feel him let out a shaky exhale, relief or something similar slipping through the cracks of his carefully controlled expression.
This feels… wrong.
And yet so right at the same time.
And terrifying.
You feel his thumb tracing small circles at your side, unconscious. Familiar. You wonder how many times he’s wanted to do this and stopped himself. If it’s the same as the number of times you’ve imagined the same thing.
You shift slightly, his hand tightens around yours like he’s anchoring himself, this is real, he can’t let you slip away.
“Steve” you mumble.
“Yeah?” his voice is low, you feel is vibrating in his chest.
You don’t know what you were going to say. Maybe just his name rolling off your tongue was enough.
You tilt your head up.
He’s already looking down at you.
There’s something different in his eyes now, something raw, unguarded. Like he’s forgotten how to pretend for a moment. His forehead dips closer to yours, nose almost brushing against your own.
You can feel his breath on your lips. The smell of his toothpaste filling your senses.
Your heart is pounding so loudly that you’re sure he can hear it.
This, this is the line. The one you’ve both been dancing around for months.
Steve freezes.
You feel it immediately, the way his body goes tense, like a wire that’s been pulled too tight. His body stops swaying to the soft music, his hand slips from your waist and he steps back too quickly like he’s been burned by you.
“I- “he runs a hand through his messy locks of hair that you’ve learned to love. “I can’t.”
The music keeps playing.
Your chest aches for him. “Can’t what?”
He doesn’t look at you; he can’t look at you. “This. Us. I shouldn’t- “
“Why?” The words come out sharper, more desperate than you mean it to.
He swallows, his jaw tightening.
“Because you’re you, you're perfect, amazing” he says quietly. “Because I’m not- because I don’t get to pretend things are normal when they’re not.”
You fold your arms over yourself, protecting yourself from the pain that’s filling you. “You think I don’t know that?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He finally lets his eyes meet yours, and there’s pain there. On both sides. Real, open, honest pain. “I just, every time we go out there, I think this might be it, and I can’t- “his voice is breaking. "I can’t be the reason you get hurt, I can’t lose you.”
Something inside of you snaps.
“You don’t get to decide that for me Steve.” You say your voice is trembling, eyes glassy. “You don’t get to protect me from loving you.”
Silence crashes between you two, and suddenly the music doesn’t exist anymore.
Steve looks at you like you’ve knocked the air out of his lungs, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights processing what he just heard.
“You- “he stops and tries again. “You shouldn’t.”
“But I do,” you whisper. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t because we’re scared to have one nice thing for ourselves.”
He laughs weakly.
You step closer. Not touching. Just there.
“I think you’re more terrified than you’ll let anyone see.” You say gently. “And your terrified of losing this one sense of normal, but you’re letting it happen anyway.”
His shoulders sag. “I just want one nice thing.” He finally admits. “One space where I’m not waiting for the next bad thing to happen and it just, feels so right when I’m with you.”
Your throat tightens.
You’re the one to reach out this time. He doesn’t pull away again.
You rest your forehead against his chest, fingers curling in his shirt. His arms come around you slowly, like he’s asking permission with every inch.
And you can hear the music once again. You can hear him breathe again.
“I’m not asking for everything to be perfect” you murmur. “I’m asking for you to be here, with me, together.”
Steve presses his lips to your hair, eyes squeezed shut as his body relaxes into your again.
“God” he breathes. “You’re going to ruin me.”
You smile through the tears of joy dusting your eyes. “Good.”
He pulls back, not far, just enough to look at you.
“Just this, us.” He says. “Together.”
You nod. “Together.”
He draws you back into the sway, closer this time. No space. No pretending that you both don’t feel deeply for each other. Your heart beats in sync with his own, and for a moment – just a single moment - it’s just you two in this quiet world.
Somewhere from the other room, Dustin snores.
You laugh softly into Steve’s chest.
He smiles, cheek resting against the top of your head.
And even though you both know the morning will come, even though the fear of the world is still there, you both know you’ll have this to come back to.
One slow dance.
One simple thing to keep you grounded.
One space where loving Steve Harrington just feels, normal.
Précis - A sleepover with your boy best friend, if you could even be certain calling him that, becomes a little out of your hands when you make a harmless little change. Harmless was an understatement.
Genre - Friends to lovers, fluff, crack, tension, nostalgia.
Pairing - Riki x fem!reader
This fic contains and has themes of cussing, intimacy (skinship), and tension.
"Friends forever?"
"Friends forever."
That was an understatement a long time ago, maybe even a lie. It's clear that the past barely had any connection to the present with what you were feeling for him. Sinful is how it can be explained. How can one even love their best friend like this? Let alone a guy—talk about enforcing the stereotype.
You don't even think it's love. The audacity to say it's love made a cocktail of emotions within you: confusion, fear, loyalty, a bit of pride. All weird feelings mixed together coming from God knows where.
This stupid, random sleepover? Only strengthens your feelings and leaves you spiraling. And with what your friends were telling you beforehand, to "make a move", ew. The mere suggestion was blasphemous and left an odd taste in your mouth... and even some odd thoughts in your head. No way things could go right.
But you agreed nonetheless and chose to say yes because of course, you're such a dear friend to him.
He's so comfortable with you and strong in his vulnerability it just kills you, it makes him almost insufferable to be around. You two were oblivious angels practically, walking around hot rocks and denying every possibility to the fact that you may just like each other.
And, oh, did he like you.
Honestly, he can't deny his feelings and push them aside, but it struck a nerve in him. Did he like you? Love you? Is this some soulmate thing? Too in love for it to be platonic, but nothing where it's romantic. There's no label for what Riki feels and it makes him feel uncomfortable. Guilty?...
He pats a spot next to his bed expectantly, grinning ear to ear as he watched you, eyes trailing deliberately when you set your things on the ground. It's like having you here, in his home, his room, it made him feel happy. Powerful even. But why?
He could sense the reluctance you have. You've been acting weirder than usual ever since he saw you at that front door of his.
Riki clicked his tongue, rubbing the palms of his hands on his bare knees. "So... I had plans. I was thinking baking, watching some shows, or maybe even gaming? Whatever you want though, seriously." He's willing to go above and beyond.
"Baking sounds pretty nice. It is autumn, maybe we could do autumn inspired cookies?" Atleast you were engaged normally, he thought. With a sigh, he nodded in agreement and laid back on the bed.
"You should probably change into your jammies. Get more comfortable, y'know?" He poked at your side teasingly, making you flinch suddenly. And with an awkward laugh as a response from you, he pulled back slowly, waiting for the hit on his arm like always. You know what you did? Walked off. Yeah, with your bag and headed into his bathroom like nothing.
Something was definitely up. He was ready to interrogate you once you stepped out but all confidence died down and the words bubbling on his tongue melted oh so carefully.
The cookie making was astronomically worse. It was like you guys were forced to be together. Making mistakes, too little or too much of a measurement, flour spills, a burnt batch, bumping into each other constantly.
Basically like two children in a kitchen unsupervised.
"Well, atleast the second one came out way better." You chuckled, stuffing your cheeks with the actual well made batch. The cookies were surprisingly cooked to a perfect consistency and crisp, the warmth from the oven and smell cinnamon delight filling the air.
He shrugged, dusting off his hands and finishing it off with a glass of milk, gulping away with no care.
You watched him with a cringe smile, laughing in disbelief and shaking your head, using a napkin to wipe your hands instead. "Absolutely unbelievable."
He finished the milk quickly, setting it back down on the counter and raising an eyebrow. "What? One, wasn't even that good. Two, anything can be a napkin. Even your hair." You looked him up and down, touching the locks of your hair in hopes he wouldn't even think to touch it. "Don't you dare. It takes me too long to get it this pretty."
A comfortable silence envelops the warm room as you two sit in the swivel chairs at the table. He watches you eat like it's the best thing on the world, and you couldn't help but notice the attentive look in his gaze.
"Alright freak, what next? Are we gonna game or watch a movie?" You broke the silence, flicking at him and knocking his daze out. And to your amazing foresight, he picked gaming first.
A couple of rounds lost, a couple won. It was a good 50/50. And everytime he lost a game, he would act like a sore loser, all pouting and wanting your sympathy like an idiot. When he won, he would get up and cheer and hit at something else if you got tired of his relentless poking and prodding.
At the end of the day, he would always still let you play one of your chill little games and Riki would sit back and watch. Watching you, it reminded him of how simple and beautiful life could be with a friend. A girl. A girlfriend? No, just you. He played with your shirt the whole time, eyes feeling a bit droopy. Fuck, he needs to stop being so comfortable.
"When are we gonna watch the movie?..." He asked innocently, poking his nail into your back and getting an offensive look back. Your eyes softened, taking Riki's hand away from your skin, getting ready to shut off the game. You stood up and stretched, letting out a tired yawn.
"I didn't think you would be getting all tired first."
"Yeah, because you're so damn boring."
He could feel your eye roll at his childish remark, and he felt giddy knowing he could just make you turn the game off like that. It's not like he forced you to, but you did it anyway, and it made him happier than he would admit. You plopped back down on the bed, closing your eyes momentarily and letting the dark behind your eyelids comfort you for a second.
"What are we watching anyway? And please don't pick another action or horror." Internally groaning at the chance of him picking the same genre again, you almost wanted to get up and leave or hit him with a pillow. The followed silence proved otherwise, the hitch in his breath audible.
"I.. was actually thinking to switch it up. Can't have you thinking you know me well." His voice dropped into a tone you couldn't even figure out. It was definitely something new that made you all too suspicious of his intentions. You seemed unconvinced until he got comfortable up on the bed more, whipping out the remote in confidence.
Netflix. What a great streaming service for a guy and a girl, alone in a closed room. Sighing, you moved closer to him and slipped underneath the covers sneakily, not wanting to feel weird about sharing his literal blanket. A blanket that he sleeps in daily. Jesus. It's gotta stop.
He hovered over the romance genre. Romance?! Your heart pitted into your stomach, crawling its way slowly out of your ass. Turning to him with furrowed brows, the expression on your face begged for an explanation.
"What? You said it yourself. It's autumn, calls for something cheesy that we can laugh at. Oh, while you're at it, can you make popcorn? Thanks." Riki spoke way too much and awfully too quickly. You swore you could see him try to calm down, taking a gulp. You agreed, albeit with hesitancy. Looks like you weren't the only one acting weird tonight.
Riki watched you leave and close the door behind you in search for the popcorn. He stopped for a second, hearing his heart race and his hands feeling clammy. Nothing important or detrimental was happening, so why was he feeling like this now of all times? Maybe it was the way he was slipping. Your reactions? It was obvious you weren't suspicious, he can't fool you with a wand and a spell.
He groaned, slapping his face a couple of times before returning back to normal.
You entered the room with one bag of popcorn. Not two, but one. He never noticed how much you two share until tonight. Tonight was going to be a huge factor in realizing a lot of things.
The movie he put on? Didn't even know what it was, all he wanted was to get the plans over with so he could just settle back and relax. That certainly wasn't the plan according to the two hour movie and hellish kissing scenes.
Awkward.
He groaned, pulling back and covering his eyes from the unnecessary scene in the movie. Romance is officially cliche and kinda gross. He felt the weight next to him shift, peeping out of his fingers and seeing you lie down beside him, phone in hand. "I agree. Movie is definitely boring." He didn't have to say anything for you to catch on, thankfully.
"Should I put on that show you like instead? That, uh... gil something." He murmured, trying to remember it by closing his eyes and touching you, as if that would help the case of memory. You carefully pulled back yet again, pushing his head back playfully.
"Do you mean Gilmore Girls? And you already know my answer." You replied back cheerfully, turning off your phone and guiding him to the show. Now the popcorn has way better use.
"Rory sounds like a Dean fanatic, fyi. It's not very, uh.. how would you say it? "Girlboss academic" of her?" He watched the screen go off into another episode unashamedly. Turns out, the show was pretty decent to him. Everything was decent to him if you liked it. He turnt his head over to you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Fast asleep and curled up in his blanket like something... something that couldn't even be put into words.
He placed a hand ontop of your head, liking the way your hair felt to the touch. The show was the very last thing on his mind now.
He was going to pull away until you grumbled when he tried to, rolling over onto your stomach and falling back asleep. He froze in the meantime, not wanting to arouse you. "What happened to making it into the morning? All nighter like we usually do?" His hand was on your back now, rubbing it in soothing circles unconsciously to him.
It was something that he just chose to do automatically.
You gently stirred again, shifting your head up, eyes low and hazy with sleepiness. He said a few words but to you it all meant nothing, all you could make out was the look on his face, the little tingle on your back as he rubbed. "I kinda love you." You let your eyes close again.
His hand went to a complete halt. You loved him? Kinda even? But it wouldn't make sense. You're tired and you probably wouldn't make sense of this in the morning. Entertaining it anyway, he spoke back lowly. "You kinda do? Meaning?"
"No... I mean, it's not like love. But it's not like, platonic either. I dunno, can we just sleep?" You groaned back, as if you weren't the one who started the topic and woke up in the first place. He scoffed dismissively, but let it go anyway.
"Yeah, we can sleep."
The sunlight peeked through the curtains of the room, allowing a bit of warmth and glow in. The birds were chirping at a peaceful volume, and the Tv remained to play quietly in the background. And the two? Wrapped around each other tightly, smells combining with the other from how close you were.
Even if Riki wasn't a morning person, waking up to this feeling, this sight—just something he would never get over. He would definitely brag about this. Closing his eyes again, he curved his head into the crook of your neck, breathing you in and out. Weird? Maybe. But you smelt really good to lie by.
"Riki?" The sound of your sleepy voice made him curse internally, pausing in hopes you would magically fall asleep. Maybe delude yourself into imagining things or even a dream. "I'm awake, y'know. You don't have to act." Relief washed over him at the sweet yet groggy words, and the weight on his shoulders disappeared as he hugged you closer.
"But what does this even make us? Do you even remember what you said last night?" Riki shakily breathed out on your skin, his grip faltering on you slightly in fear and confusion at the need of knowing. Knowing what label you two were. What are you guys even?
"I remember. What I said was true." You shifted positions and laid on the side where you could face him and his rather insecure expression. You scooted closer, closer than he was expecting. "We aren't friends anymore. But I don't think we have to be dating either. I don't know, it's just... different. 'S not like I'm avoiding us or wanting to be, like, that friends with benefits BS."
He let out a huff of air, which meant to be a laugh, but it sounded more like disbelief. He shook his head. Even in all the uncertainty, it's not like you two needed a label as of now. The flow of things was what mattered, and it was going exceptionally well. "Whatever we are, I'm loving it. And I'm glad I survived that night."
You gasped in dramatic shock, "What do you mean? I wasn't that annoying, right?"
"No.. but I was rethinking all of my life choices with you and imagining a house and kids. Started to get freaky." He took on a playful edge, even though you felt repulsed at the thought of that big future he imagined in just one day. Yeah, pretty freaky. "Think we should start worrying about the present more, Ri..."
He hummed, nodding his head slowly. His eyes took in the specific shift in your face, the vibe of the moment. All he could do was kiss you, really. Riki started to feel dumb now, staring at you like this and you didn't say a word. Look away. That's what he should do. But your eyes were—
"Ni-ki."
"..Hm?"
"Friends forever, right?" You questioned him lowly, reaching out to poke at his side like he does to yours. He smiled lightly, grabbing at your cheek and leaning in deliberately. "Whatever the hell that means to us now. Yeah. Forever, y/n."
(a/n: I finished this at almost 6:00 am. Also softer than I intended.💔)
tags fem!reader, reader wears a bikini, reader described as dolled up, suggestive-ish, alisa mention + kuroo + yaku + lev appearances, friends to more, mutual pining, fluff
note this has been a wip since july 7th... as the summer comes to an end i hope this can be a cute fic to wrap up the season with!
The world whipped past you in a blur, you were sitting in the backseat of Kuroo's chilly car. Lev was in the passenger seat, and Kenma and Yaku were in the backseat with you. You thought you would have had to fight for the window seat but Kenma willingly gave it up, much to Yaku’s suspicion.
You all were on your way to the beach for a summer vacation, planning to meet Alisa there for a week filled with bonding fun.
“This song is ass,” Yaku complained as Lev started to play his music through the aux.
“Dude this isn’t even the best part, just you wait for the beat drop,” Lev defended his song choice, much to Yaku’s dismay.
And as Kuroo, Lev, and Yaku had an intriguing argument, you weren’t able to listen as intently as you would have liked. You were too distracted with Kenma's body being pressed up against yours. Kuroo’s car was a decent size but once everyone hopped in with all of their stuff for the trip, it felt smaller than what it actually was.
And it didn’t help that the boys convinced Kenma to come up out of the joggers he wears religiously, instead he was wearing jorts that went slightly below his knee with a black hoodie. His black hair with blond tips was tucked into a messy bun, numerous strands falling out.
Kenma looked good today, in your opinion, he looked good everyday but today was a special occasion. And you were so close to him your knees would touch every time the car went over a bump, which seemed to be happening a lot. It felt as if Kuroo was doing it on purpose, and once the car settled down, Kenma’s knee stayed pressed against yours. You could hear his soft breathing, the air rhythmically flowing from him felt comforting. Like laying down in a darkroom during a rainstorm.
Kenma was looking down at his phone, trying not to look in your direction. Not because he didn’t want to look at you, but because he didn’t want to look like a creep. So he scrolled on his phone, checking if there were any updates regarding the games he streamed.
Kenma thought you looked amazing today, but to him, you looked amazing everyday. No matter what you were wearing. But he saw how dolled-up you looked for the beach, wearing an off-the-shoulder top that showed your bikini straps. Kenma felt the urge to take a picture so the moment could last longer, he wanted to compliment you so badly. But the words wouldn’t come out.
Suddenly you felt your body jolt, the car made a weird noise as it turned quickly around a sharp corner.
“Kuroo turn the car like that again and I'm driving back!” Yaku threatened as his cheek was smushed against the window, beginning to be annoyed at Kuroo's reckless driving.
“Oops,” Kuroo chuckled as he discreetly looked in the rearview mirror, briefly staring at you and Kenma.
Your body had shifted significantly when Kuroo turned the corner like he was driving a racecar, your shoulder was now resting on Kenma’s. Kenma could feel the heat radiating from your thigh as it pressed up against his. Kenma tightened his grip on his phone, hoping to ground himself in reality and push away anything he was currently thinking about how you looked and how you felt up against him.
And you didn’t dare to look over at him either, you were too nervous to glance over. You were frustrated with yourself as well, Kenma was your friend. You shouldn’t have been this nervous about being so physically close to one of your friends. You knew for certain that you wouldn’t have felt this anxious if it was any of the other boys or Alisa sitting next to you.
‘So what made Kenma special to you? Why was Kenma the only one to make you feel this way?’ You wondered while you were still pressed up against him.
The road for the rest of your journey was smooth, so you could have just sat how you started the ride.
But you didn’t move, and neither did Kenma.
Everyone agreed for Yaku to book the hotel room since he was the only person who was trusted to not mess it up. He booked three rooms so that meant that Alisa and Kuroo would share, while Yaku and Lev shared another. Which left only you and Kenma to room together.
You all gathered into the elevator with your suitcases, your friends chattered away as the silver doors enclosed you all into the small space. And once again, you and Kenma were touching. Not on purpose, but with six people in one elevator with luggages, it was almost guaranteed that you’d be on top of each other.
You could feel your back pressing into his abdomen, you wanted to apologize for being so close to him but oddly enough, you liked the feeling. You liked the feeling of his chest rising up and down, as if he was as comfortable as you were in this position.
Kenma didn’t mind being this close to you, he was nervous but he wasn’t going to complain about it. He put his hands in his pockets, so he could stop the urge of wanting to wrap his hands around your waist.
You all made your way out of the elevator and onto the hotel floor. You chatted with each other as you made your way to the rooms.
“I still don’t really understand why we just didn’t get a house,” Kenma muttered under his breath, hoping you wouldn’t have caught his complaint.
“It would have been too expensive,” you looked over at him as you walked up to the door with your room number on it.
“I could've paid for it..” Kenma murmured as he took out the keycard to unlock the room.
You heard a soft click and a beeping sound before Kenma turned the handle. You were excited to see what the room had looked like since you knew you guys were right off of the beach, hoping to get that perfect view of the ocean while ships sailed by and birds roamed freely.
You could see the sun shining through the white, sheer curtains, making the room look light and airy. It was nautical themed adorned with blues, whites, and greys.
But to your confusion, you only saw one bed.
“Huh,” Kenma was just as confused as you were.
You two exchanged a look. But you couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. Kenma looked more pissed off than anything else.
“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Yaku to book the rooms..” Kenma huffed out, still clutching his suitcase in one hand and his plushie in the other.
“It's whatever, it’s only for four nights anyway.” You stated.
“Yeah, just four nights..” He repeated, his eyes looking anywhere but at you.
You shrugged off his energy and decided to unpack as you didn’t want to live out of your suitcase for this trip. You put away your clothes in the drawer that the hotel provided and then decided to check out the bathroom.
As you turned on the lights, you looked into the large mirror that was above the bathroom sink. The bathroom looked more expensive than your home, and it still managed to keep that nautical aesthetic from the bedroom. Little anchors decorated the white walls.
You turned your head to look at the large shower that took up a majority of the bathroom. The only thing protecting your privacy was a big, glass wall, which actually didn’t protect anything at all. but it looked nice, it was grander than any shower you’ve ever seen before. So you considered the lack of privacy a fair trade off.
You heard footsteps behind you and turned your head again to see Kenma stepping in the bathroom, a nervous look on his face.
“Sorry about earlier,” he apologized, even though that was like three minutes ago. “I’m not mad at you by the way I just thought I should clear that up.” His cat-like eyes peered into yours, as if he was searching for something in yours.
“It’s okay,” you smiled softly at him. “It is weird how yaku booked this room knowing that everyone was going to share one.” You started to wonder.
Kenma made a “hm” sound, finally coping with his reality that you two would just have to share a bed, since there was no couch in the room either.
Little did the two of you know that Yaku was down the hallway snickering while Lev was looking at him like a madman, not sure as to why he was so tickled to the point of tears.
You stepped out of the AC blasted hotel lobby and outside to the pier. You felt the sun envelop your skin as your eyes adjusted to the light. Kenma was right by your side, groaning at the heat.
“Why the hell is it so hot out here,” he grumbled.
“Because it’s summer, by the beach.” You stated the obvious. Kenma just looked at you, trying his best to not be rage-baited.
You and Kenma had previously agreed to visit a cafe you had seen online. And luckily everyone agreed to vacation in the spot you chose, meaning that you would get to visit the cafe today.
You and Kenma walked away from the beach and headed into the city that was right outside of it. The café wasn’t a far walk from the hotel, and you and Kenma spent half of your time just walking to places anyway so you didn’t mind the distance.
You were still wearing the outfit you had on in Kuroo’s car, not caring to change out of the cute outfit. And Kenma didn’t change out of his outfit either, deciding to take the heat head on with his hoodie. You liked how his hair perfectly laid on his face and shoulders, he looked adorable. But you’d never tell him that.
After walking a decent distance, you were met with a line outside of the cute café. The theme of it was your favorite character, decorated with their adorable face everywhere.
“This is so cute!” You exclaimed, smiling ear to ear as you stood in line, you were barely able to contain your excitement.
As you were taking pictures of the outside of the cafe, Kenma just gazed at you. Softly laughing whenever you squealed after noticing a tiny detail the owners of the store put out, referencing something that was very dear to your favorite character. Kenma enjoyed seeing your excitement.
“What are you thinking about ordering?” Kenma asked as the line started to move up.
The incessant chatter from the other customers and the sound of the machines whirling clouded your ears, but you still responded, “I was thinking about getting something I saw online.”
Kenma nodded his head, trying to look at the menu himself as he was now leaning against the door, having to be the one to keep it open since he was in an awkward spot. You were standing right by him, he was trying not to notice how close your foot was to his. He knew you didn’t place your foot there on purpose, but it felt like you did.
“Order 67, your order is ready!” You heard a barista ring out.
You and Kenma were now fully inside of the café, you nearly passed out from joy from how well decorated the space was.
“Hm.” Kenma looked at the menu.
“What are you thinking about getting?” You asked, looking him in his eyes.
He turned his head to look at you, a small smile on his face. “Not sure yet.”
You were now on the verge of passing out from how good it looked, so you turned your attention back to the menu. Even though you already knew what you were going to get, you needed to focus on anything but Kenma.
“I can serve whoever is next in line.” The worker at the register called out.
You told them what you wanted from the menu, not sparing any expense on your favorite character. As you were getting ready to take out your phone to pay, Kenma grabbed your wrist to stop you.
“I’ll take a cookie,” Kenma ordered, his hand still holding your wrist like it was the most fragile thing in the world. And all you could do was admire him and his gold eyes.
“And will that be all today?” The cashier asked.
“Yes, thank you.” You responded, your phone in hand prepared to pay.
Until Kenma nudged your phone over with his, and paid for your treats on his own.
“Did you think I was going to let you pay?” He asked, a sly smile on his face.
“Thanks, Kenma.” You were grateful that he paid, but his expression was one that confused you.
“Anytime.”
You two walked towards a table that was right by the window, you were able to see the townspeople just walking around. You started to eat the food you ordered, the delicious flavors satisfied any cravings you would have for the rest of the day.
You moved your attention to Kenma, seeing break the cookie apart with his long fingers, picking at his food. From an outsider’s perspective they would have thought he didn’t want to eat the cookie, but you knew he just had his own way of eating things.
You noticed how his nose twitched every time he started to chew on the firm but sweet cookie with your favorite character’s signature colors. How his nostrils slightly flared as he used his pointer finger to scoop the icing from the decorated cookie onto his tongue.
Kenma’s cat-like eyes were too focused on the cookie he was trying to eat, too focused to notice your eyes admiring his face.
You couldn’t help but smile when you looked at him.
“What’s up?” He looked up from his treat.
“Nothing, just glad you’re enjoying the food.” You smiled, trying your best to brush off whatever emotion that was on your face before you got caught.
Kenma had a feeling that you were hiding something, but didn’t feel the need to ask at that exact moment. He figured he would wait for the truth to reveal itself.
Leaving the café, you and Kenma decided to walk around the city. Seeing what it had to offer as a vacation spot.
You passed by shops and people in summer clothing, you felt oddly at home. But you realized you had felt right at home because Kenma was by your side, commentating on everything that interested him.
“That bakery looks nice,” he pointed out.
You looked over to where he was pointing, the bakery seemed rather busy, customers coming in and out of it.
“It smells good too,” you hummed.
You two continued to walk for what felt like two hours. And while you were walking, you noticed people staring at you. You wished you were able to pick their brain. Figure out what they were thinking, and why they were thinking it.
Even a small child smiled at you, pointing to you and Kenma as they tried to get their mom’s attention.
“Mommy, mommy! They’re just like you and daddy!”
“Yes, they are sweetheart,” the mother gave a rude glance in your direction. “Come on just keep walking.”
Kenma didn’t notice the interaction though, as he was too focused on trying to find the directions to a gaming store nearby. He led you to a fountain that was big enough for the townspeople to sit down on. You noticed others taking pictures of the beautiful fountain while a group of teenaged kids walked around asking people if they had any change to throw in the lavish fountain.
“My phone is being so difficult, gosh,” Kenma grumbled. The hot, summer sun beating down on him was starting to aggravate him further.
“Let me see,” you suggested.
Kenma leaned over, making sure you were able to see his phone clearly. You were so close with him it felt like you were trapped in the same space, not that you minded the lack of room. But it made it look like you two were something more than what you actually were, maybe that’s what all those stares were for.
You examined Kenma’s phone, seeing what he could possibly be doing wrong to get the wrong directions. Everything looked fine though, it was set to walking mode, and it was for sure the right address.
“I.. I don’t see the problem Kenma, everything looks fine,” You shrugged.
“Oh you’re right.. Yeah, I don’t know either,” he mumbled.
You narrowed your eyes at him slightly, wondering what was with the guilty-ish expression on his face. But you shrugged it off, not wanting to think too much about it.
“You ready?” You asked.
“Yeah let’s go, maybe get something cold to eat afterwards.” Kenma got up from the concrete, dusting himself off a little.
“I heard about an ice cream spot not too far from the shop you wanna go to, but there’s popsicle stands all throughout here so we have options.” You considered.
“For sure,” Kenma smiled. As his gold eyes gazed into yours, you felt your heart skip a beat.
You knew that you were just friends with Kenma, and you liked it that way. Kenma was someone who you confided in often, someone who always managed to make you laugh.
Kenma was your best friend. So you wondered why you couldn’t stop imagining his lips on yours, wondering how his slim hands would feel around your waist as you walked alongside him.
You felt the sun kissing your skin as the rough texture of the towel underneath you shielded your skin from the sand. The sounds of incessant chatter, and laughter, and the waves crashing onto shore surrounded you as you admired the big, blue body in front of you.
You tried your best to convince Kenma to go without his electronics, to experience the beach to the fullest. But he had a way with words and managed to bring his console with him.
“See,” Kenma showed you his console, the screen being in perfect view, showing his stats for some level. “I’m almost done with the game you didn’t want me to bring.”
“Will you enjoy nature once you’re finished?” You asked, condescendingly.
Kenma picked up on that, “you were on your phone two minutes ago I don’t wanna hear it.”
“You’re not being serious! That doesn’t even count. I was trying to find my beach playlist, oh my god.” You defended your phone use.
“By scrolling on instagram? I don’t think you can play music from there.” Kenma pointed out.
“Uh yes you can, they have a whole audio bank.” You stayed firm, determined to win by any means possible.
“You know what I meant bro it’s not a streaming service.” Kenma muttered, his tone signaling defeat.
“You’re lucky there’s any service out here at all..” You smiled, still keeping up that condescending tone.
“The hotel is like two steps away, what do you mean?” Kenma looked at you, confused.
“Whatever Kenma, whatever.” You brushed it off, not really knowing what you meant by that either.
Kenma laughed, enjoying his third victory of the day.
His first victory of the day was seeing you in the swimsuit you had on.
Before coming on the trip, you had sent Kenma pictures of some stuff you planned on buying for the summer. Not knowing when you were going to go out next.
You sent him about three different options you had for affordable swimsuits, all of the designs being cute but vastly different.
You had asked Kenma which one he thought looked the coolest and he picked the 2nd option. He thought it was something that fit your personality, the fabric reminded him of you. And thankfully, that was the option you were already leaning towards.
And now you were wearing that second option, the sun shining on it perfectly.
A few beats of silence washed over the two of you, but silence was always natural for you considering Kenma wasn’t always a talker. Most times, your presence was just enough for him. But without thinking, Kenma spoke aloud.
“You look cute in that swimsuit.” The words tumbled from his mouth before he was able to catch himself.
“Huh? I mean, thank you..” You responded, shocked that something like that came from Kenma. And flustered because of his compliment.
“I didn’t mean to say that I’m sorry..?” Kenma was also flustered, his face red from blushing and the hot, summer sun.
“You didn’t mean to say it or you didn’t mean it?” You pressed, wanting to know where his head was at.
“I mean I meant it but.. whatever.” Kenma mumbled.
You could tell that he wanted to move on from this, so you didn’t push any further.
You wondered how this could have ended up if Kenma said any more words than he already did. But you figured to just leave it, you got a compliment so no need to ruin a good thing.
You smiled at the realization of Kenma meaning what he said, you thought that he looked cute too, for the record.
His hair was down, just like how it used to be in high school. But it was fully black with the exception of his blond tips that you were growing to love. He had taken his hoodie off, now left in a graphic tee and some black shorts, a simple outfit but it showed his interests.
He could feel your eyes burning holes into him, but he didn’t speak. His stomach was in knots at the idea of having to confess his feelings for you, so he stayed silent. Focusing on the game in front of him, hoping that you would turn your attention back towards the ocean.
And you did eventually, but you still had Kenma on your mind. It was hard not to think about him as you rested next to each other.
You yawned, stretching on your shared bed with Kenma. You noticed that he wasn’t in bed, but you didn’t know where else he could be.
But you did know that you were going out with your friends today, Alisa had suggested that you all explore some local spots together. And take some pictures while you were out.
You sighed knowing that you would have to get ready, even though you were tired from the day before. You made your way to your shared bathroom, finding Kenma already in there. Preparing his toothbrush so he could brush his teeth.
You two nearly moved in sync as you brushed your teeth. Your eyes were playing eye-tag at this point, trying to catch each other glances in the mirrors as minty-flavored paste filled your mouth.
You finished brushing your teeth around the same time and moved onto flossing. Still sparing each other glances in the mirror. You tried to fight the smile creeping up on your face, but the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t let you conceal your emotions for another second.
“What are we?” You asked, finally breaking the silence. Looking at Kenma’s eyes in the mirror.
“...I don’t think we’re just friends at this point, are we.” Kenma said, it was presented like a question but you knew it was a statement.
He was inviting you to reach your own conclusion, he already knew where you stood. Now the future was in your hands.
“We’re probably something more,” you shrugged. Still trying to hide that sweet smile of yours.
“Probably?” Kenma moved closer to you.
“I’m messing with you, we’re obviously not just friends at this point.” You wrapped your arms around Kenma’s neck, and he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Hm,” Kenma thought aloud. “Let’s go on a date tomorrow and we’ll see then.”
You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, something quick and light.
“Are we still just friends?” You gazed into his eyes.
“No,” Kenma crashed his lips onto yours. You could feel the minty freshness coming from him as your lips moved together.
But still, you anticipated what tomorrow held for you.
