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amberdagger · 7 months

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i'm low on gas and you need a jacket

steve-o x fem!reader, set in 2003 idk how to categorise or summarise this tbh lol. loosely inspired by the lyrics of i'm low on gas and you need a jacket by ptv warnings: drugs/alcohol mentioned, swearing, suggestive content, barely proofread (i'm lazy) notes: i wrote this in first person, present tense and i don't know if i like it. i also have zero confidence in my writing lol.

My apartment is dark, save for the light of the TV. I’ve flicked through every channel a few times tonight but haven’t found anything appealing. I turned the volume all the way down and let the images play out silently. It’s never really silent in this apartment, though. Living in LA means a constant symphony of sirens and shouts, often accompanied by partying neighbours.

Sighing, I peel myself off the couch and wander over to the cabinet that houses my hi-fi system and CD collection. ‘Warning’ by Green Day catches my eye, so I pull it from its spot on the shelf, open the case and place the disc into the player. After pressing play and turning up the volume, I shuffle over to the tiny kitchen and wash one of the dirty glasses laying in the sink. I grab a can of Red Bull from the nearly empty refrigerator and the half-empty bottle of Jägermeister from on top of the fridge, setting them on the countertop next to the newly clean glass. I fish some ice cubes out of the tray in the freezer and they clink as I drop them into the glass. I crack open the can of Red Bull and empty most of its contents into the glass, leaving space for a shot (or two) of the Jäger.

God, it would be nice to have a balcony to sit on while I drink. Too bad, I have to settle for the couch. The sweetness of the Red Bull masks the bitterness of the Jäger, making it far too easy to drink. Drinking alone on a Friday night. How depressing. I focus on the music, feeling the vibrations and mumbling along with the lyrics. The time passes quickly, slipping away. Before too long, the CD stops spinning and I’m left in relative silence with my empty glass. The one drink was enough to get me feeling buzzed from the mixture of caffeine and alcohol. With nothing to do, I figure I might as well get some sleep.

My pyjamas are in a pile at the edge of my bed. I slip out of my jeans and t-shirt and replace them with the tank top and boxer shorts that I always sleep in. Right as I’m about to turn off my bedroom light and hop into bed, I hear knocking on my front door. Who the hell is knocking at this time? The cops? Why would the cops be here? The knocking continues, getting louder and more obnoxious. Christ. I trudge back out to the living room and peer through the peephole to see who’s there.

Steve-O.

My heart leaps up into my throat and my stomach drops. I haven’t seen Steve in months. What is he doing here? I’m surprised he was even able to remember my address. “Dude! I know you’re in there, let me in!” He shouts. I fumble to get the door unlocked and open it. He stands there in the dingy hallway with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Unsurprisingly, he reeks of beer and weed.

“Steve, what the hell are you doing here?” “It’s a long story dude, can I come in?” I barely have a chance to nod before he stumbles across the threshold and throws his arms around my shoulders, nearly knocking me over. I drag him over to the couch and let him flop down onto it.

“So, what are you doing here?” “Me and the guys were all staying in Palm Springs, partying, y’know. We kind of wrecked the hotel room I was staying in so they kicked us out. Palm Springs sucks anyway so I got someone to drive me to LA.” “You got someone to drive you two hours in the middle of the night?” “Yeah, dude. They were heading this way anyway.” I scoff in disbelief. “Okay so that’s why you’re in LA. But why did you decide to show up on my doorstep at 2am?” “Thought you’d be stoked to see me, babe.” Babe? My cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. I pray it’s too dark and he’s too wasted to notice.

I sit on the couch next to him with a beleaguered sigh. “What, so you just came to hang out?” I pressed. “Jesus, what’s with all the questions, lady?” I shoot him a glare, prompting him to answer, “yeah, sure, I came to hang out or whatever.” “Steve, I was about to go to bed before you showed up.” “Alright then, let’s go to bed,” he chuckled, practically jumping up off the couch. Before I can even say anything, he’s off down the narrow hall towards my bedroom. I get up and chase after him.

When I reach my room, he’s already laying on the bed doing a goofy “seductive” pose. “Seriously, Steve? You actually think I’m going to let you sleep in my bed?” “Sure, it’s not like we haven’t slept together before,” he said with a cheeky grin. “We did not sleep together. We hooked up. One time. Months ago.” I stand in the doorway, practically glaring at him, waiting for a response. He was uncharacteristically quiet. After a moment, he speaks. “Come on babe, sit over here with me. Please?” He hauls himself up to a seated position, back resting against the headboard. I roll my eyes and sigh in exasperation before dragging myself over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. We sit in uncomfortable silence. I’m exhausted, the buzz from the Jäger Bomb has worn off, and I have no clue what to say to him.

We had met for the first time at some spring break party. He was on the patio showing off some acrobatic tricks and I was sitting on the edge of the pool dangling my legs in the water, sipping my drink. I noticed him after he backflipped into the pool, splashing me as he hit the water. “Sorry dude!” He laughed as I looked down at my soaked dress. He swam closer and introduced himself. We got to chatting and after a couple of hours and several more drinks I took my chance. After all, he was pretty cute and happened to be famous. So, I’d leaned in close and whispered in his ear, “wanna go back to my place?” In response, he shouted to no one in particular, “I’m going to this chick’s house!” He put his arm around my shoulder and we left the party together. We stumbled to my apartment (it was only a couple of blocks from the party), giggling like idiots as I unlocked the front door. As soon as it was shut behind us, he pulled me to him, one hand on my waist and the other on the back of my neck. We kissed as I led us to the couch. After hooking up, he fell asleep on the couch and I scribbled my phone number on a scrap of paper. I left it on the coffee table and slinked off to my bedroom. When I woke up the next morning, groggy from the hangover, he was gone and so was the scrap of paper with my number on it. I had figured that was probably the end of my acquaintance with Steve-O. A drunken one-night-stand.

The next weekend I was stocking my fridge with Miller Lite in preparation for a little get-together I was hosting when my cellphone chimed. The text message read, “party 2nite?” From a number I didn’t recognise. “Who’s asking?” I sent back. “steve-o” My breath caught in my throat as I stared at the screen in disbelief. I called the number and he picked up after a couple of rings. “Hey dude! What’s up?” I heard him through the speaker. “I’m having a little get-together with some friends at my place later, if you’re looking for a party.” “Yeah dude!” He cheered.

He brought a rabble of friends and acquaintances to my tiny apartment that night and they practically destroyed the place. The party died down after several hours and a lot of knocking from pissed off neighbours, and I watched him leave with one of my friends. Once again, I figured I would never see him again. However, the next morning I woke to the sound of my cellphone ringing. It was Steve-O. “Dude, sick party last night!” “Yeah,” I said coldly. “You and your buddies wrecked my house and I got my first noise complaint.” Anger burned my throat as I held myself back from screaming into the phone. “That’s how you know it was a-“ I heard him say before I hung up on him.

Months passed without a phone call or a text message. I had done my best to forget about Steve-O.

I feel the bed move as he shifts around, hating the silence. He clears his throat and says, “so… uh…” I turn to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He looks down to avoid my gaze. “I’m sorry.” I’m taken aback. I was hoping for an apology but I didn’t expect to receive one. “It was totally shitty of me to wreck your place, I should have come back to clean up. I should have apologised. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I wanted to call you so many times but I couldn’t do it. I fucked up.” I’m completely stunned by his sincerity. I can’t comprehend the fact that he’s actually owning up to his shit. He looks sheepish, like he’s expecting me to rip into him. “Oh. Yeah, well… um… thanks for apologising, Steve.” I reach over and place my hand on his knee reassuringly. He releases the breath he was holding, relieved. Gently, he places his hand over mine and squeezes it softly. I move to sit closer to him, leaning back against the headboard. “If you need a place to sleep tonight, I won’t kick you out. As long as you promise not to break anything,” I say quietly, resting the side of my head on his shoulder. He chuckles lightly. “I promise. Thanks, dude.” He places a kiss on the top of my head. “Don’t push your luck, Steve.” I say, giving him a playful shove.

We fall asleep in silence, save for our breathing and the consistent hum of city noise.

#steve-o x reader #jackass fanfic #I'M SO SCARED POSTING THIS JKADFJKD #felt silly might delete later #Spotify

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