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italiansteebie · 11 months

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so the thing is.

steve really really wants this teddy bear.

he was never allowed stuffed animals as a child and had taken it upon himself to build that collection and nurture that part of him. and he's got quite a few now, most of them sit in his closet, save for a few under his bed for easy access, but he keeps them hidden.

because if anyone saw them, if the kids saw them, well. then he'd have to explain. and then it'd go from a funny "make fun of steve" moment to a "steve had a horrible childhood" moment.

so he hides them.

but not as well as he thought.

because eddie has seen the fuzzy little creatures in passing. seen their heads poking out from under his covers, caught glimpses of them tucked away in steve's closet.

and he thought it was cute.

he knew steve didn't have a great childhood, and hey. the guy deserved some soft things in life. eddie too, had some stuffed animals smooshed in with his bedding. so sue him, he likes to be cozy, and those little guys make him comfy.

and he too saw the teddy bear.

and saw the way steve looked at it.

it was pretty cute, eddie has to admit. it was a pretty big bear, soft pink, with a little white bow around its neck.

it was much more... childlike. than steve's others.

but.

the way steve looked at it. it was like he was watching a soldier come home from war. breifly eddie wonders if it looked like something from when steve was a kid, but he didn't delve deeper. he'd make himself too sad.

so he made a plan.

---

steve would never admit it, but he was heartbroken, having to leave that teddy bear like that.

but he was with the kids.

and robin.

and eddie.

and he couldn't exactly just go buy it. he couldn't give his usual excuse that it was a gift for the kids if the kids were with him, it just wouldn't work.

so he gave it up.

but it didn't stop him from thinking about it.

it just looked so soft. and maybe he was touched starved, and maybe this was his way of solving that. and maybe that wasn't "healthy." but it worked for him. and damnit. steve wanted that goddamn teddy bear.

it had been 2 days since steve saw the bear, and it was still knocking around in his mind. so he decided to go and get it. he had the plot in his head, it was a gift for holly wheeler if anyone saw him, and yes, he would like it gift wrapped please and thank you. and so he brushed his hair, and grabbed his keys.

and he swung open the door and came face to face with none other than eddie munson, bag in hand, fist raised, ready to knock.

"hey eds! i was just about to go get... uh. i. run some errands..." steve cringed at the awkward sentence, luckily for him, eddie paid it no mind.

"steve! can i come in? let's hang!" eddie left no room for an answer and pushed his way past steve into the large house.

"wh- eddie! i was about to leave," and he did not whine. he didn't.

"too bad, steve-o. i already ordered the pizza!"

"you pre ordered a pizza? to my house?"

"yeah. now come sit. put on a movie."

and well. steve relented, eddie wormed his way into his home and his heart and so what if he had a crush on the metal head. he was just a boy! he was allowed to have crushes, okay, robin?

so he sat.

and put on a movie.

and the pizza got there.

and they ate.

the sun was going down, and steve's eyes were slipping closed in the peace when eddie jumped up. "i almost forgot!"

steve jolted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "what?"

"i got you a present," eddie sang, waving the bag steve had spotted when he first got to his house. steve eyed him suspiciously, "what is it?" he questioned, reaching towards the bag.

"just open it steve!" eddie said, flopping back down on the couch, kicking his feet as he watched steve.

steve pulled back the tissue paper, and caught just a glimpse of the soft pink fur, and he stopped. "eddie..." he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "open it up, stevie." eddie encouraged gently.

steve pulled the bear from the bag, "oh my god," he whispered, brushing a hand over the bears head, before squeezing it against his chest, eyes shut tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

eddie smiled, placing a gentle hand on steve's shoulder.

"thank you, how- how did you know?"

"i saw you looking at it. i couldn't just let you leave it."

"eddie..."

steve sighed gently, eyes shining, peering up at eddie through his eyelashes, "i can't tell you how much i appreciate this." and with that he threw his arms around the metal head, the teddy bear squished in between them. steve pulled away, eyes locking with eddie's.

"steve, can- i hope what i'm about to ask doesn't... ruin anything, i just. can i kiss you?"

"please," steve breathed, lips meeting and eyes fluttering closed. it was soft, and sweet, and it felt like... home. eddie pulled away, steve letting out a soft whine as he does. eddie cupped his face, letting his thumb run gently over the softness of steve's cheek.

"i have wanted to do that since you carried me out of hell."

"i'm happy you didn't wait any longer because i've been wanting to kiss you since you had that bottle pressed against my neck."

"stevie, so scandalous." eddie gasped, giggling in unison with steve.

the fluffy hair boy stood, grabbing eddie's hand and pulling him with him. "i wanna show you something."

steve led eddie through the house, quiet before coming to a door, "this was my nonna's room, when she would come to visit. it didn't happen that often. but i loved it when she was here. she taught me how to cook, how to speak italian. she was my best friend for a really long time." steve spoke softly, trailing around the now plain room. eddie followed him, hanging onto his every word. they stopped in front of an old photo.

there was a young woman, holding a bear that looked very similar to the one he had just bought steve. "this is my nona when she was young. and that... that was her friend. i always called him bobbie. i don't... know why, but that was his name. and she brought him every time she visited. but she always took it home... because she knew my dad would take it away," steve's voice cracked, and eddie wrapped his arms around him, showing his support.

"she was buried with him. and. i lost two friends that day."

eddie moved to hug steve from the front, letting him bury his head in his neck. "i'm sorry you lost them, stevie."

steve pulled away slightly, "you brought them back." he whispered. and it felt like a confession of something more serious. and eddie was all in.

they shared another soft kiss, sealing in the beginning of something beautiful.

that night they slept in the same bed, the soft pink bear wedged between them.

#i did not mean for this to go so long #steve harrington #eddie munson #soft eddie munson #soft steve harrington #soft steddie #autistic steve harrington #steve has bad parents #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #steddie get together #stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie drabble #steve x eddie

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aww-canon-no · 11 months

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Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2

You asked, so I’m here to give you more. This time from Eddie’s POV.

First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.

***

Soon Enough

Rated: T

Steve/Eddie

Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL

(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)

Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity. And he’s not about to start now.

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)

***

Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least. Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way. The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.

Wayne stepped in when he could. He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him. Eventually they struck a deal. Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.

So nice.

Like washing machine and running water nice.

He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.

He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.

So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people. It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.

It wasn’t just the jealousy.

It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level. Literally. He was Deaf. He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.

It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.

Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL. They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.

But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.

He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.

But he was determined, damn it. He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.

***

Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin. They were sort of outcast friends. Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.

He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie. The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.

Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.

And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner. There was no resisting him.

He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.

He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.

“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?” Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.

Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched. “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.” Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.

Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it. And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.

So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.

He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall. And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t. But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.

In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.

Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…

Yeah it was kind of hilarious.

For Steve.

Mortifying for Eddie.

The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation. And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait. Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.

Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it. Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.

And he didn’t even like ice cream.

He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.

But the date did.

They planned for the movies and then…

Wayne got hurt at the plant. He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.

The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair. Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?

Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.

‘Hi.’ It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one. ‘You OK?’ He signed slow, mouthing the words.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged. His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.

Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before. He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug. It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted. His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.

It was…a lot.

Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.

For now he just let himself have this. Have Steve. Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.

When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.

‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’

Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck. He shook his head and shrugged. ‘Can’t…hear?’ Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear. Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip. ‘Not hurt Feel it.’

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.

Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.

Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat. ‘Hungry-you?’

He was starved. He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’ He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?

Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound. Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah. Steve was touching him again so that was good.

Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider. Then he shook his head.

‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly. He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’ He made a little question mark motion with his finger. It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.

He nodded. Yeah. He’d been trying to say starving.

Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand. His left signed, ‘Watch.’

Eddie nodded.

Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force. ‘Ok?’

Eddie nodded. Okay, yeah. He could do that.

Steve wasn’t done. ‘W O R K?’

Eddie smiled and nodded his fist. ‘Yes.’

Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist. ‘Work,’ he signed.

Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.

But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.

Until suddenly he did mind because…

He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before? What did I fuck up?’

Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type. Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.

Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different. Confused? Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was? Embarrassed to know him?

Was he…

Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands. He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”

Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD. Oh my... god oh my god oh my…

Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’

Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh. It was a tree. The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his. It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.

No, it was soft. It was gentle.

It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could. As many as Steve would allow.

For the rest of their lives, God help them both.

Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...

Oh.

He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips. ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.

Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss. Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.

‘For now,” he wiggled his phone. ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded. ‘Why are you here?’

Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt. I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’

Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much. The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.

He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.

‘Come home with me tonight. Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer. He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.

Never would be conventional.

He rubbed a flat palm over his chest. ‘Please.’

Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second. Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right. Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.

Shit yeah.

Maybe not now. Not tonight. Not even very soon.

But soon enough.

Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…

And Eddie followed.

***

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up. Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny. Work=Fuck. Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Deaf Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #modern AU #Stranger Things #dustin henderson #steve x eddie

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ascesabo · 14 days

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sometimes i want to reach through the screen and shake sabo by the shoulders because. god. there's just so much going on with him.

he's first introduced through the veil of luffy's memories- here he's just another feral jungle kid, sticking it out with ace and luffy, the 'nicer' brother in young luffy's eyes. and then boom. you find out he's a runaway noble trying to escape his abusive, neglectful family- and this changes nothing, they still get to become sworn brothers, but just as quickly as this is resolved, his asshole of a dad takes the three of them hostage. and what does sabo do? he gives up the little sliver of freedom he'd fought for, is willing to become miserable and lonely again if it means ace and luffy are spared. and then he comes home to find that in his absence, his parents have already found a replacement! great!

and he doesn't even get to address how fucked up that is, because stelly runs his mouth and now sabo's too busy trying to figure out how to stop his brothers and their home from getting burnt to the ground. he never gets to give them a proper goodbye- he exhausts himself trying to reach them, but he can't because. you know. he's ten. so where does this leave sabo? ten years old, with nowhere to go- he sets out to sea to try and start over, and for the crime of wanting to escape a terrible life, he's punished with an explosion to the face. he loses his memories, his brothers lose him- and so the cycle continues.

then the army saves him, takes him in; he's essentially a child soldier, with how prodigious of a fighter he is from the get-go. but hey, he thinks he's finally found his footing, even if his past's a blur to him- then it all comes flooding back. in the worst way possible. he sees his brother's corpse and he remembers, but it doesn't matter, does it? he's too late, ace is gone, and sabo's lost ten years of a life he could have shared with his brothers. we don't even know how (if, even) he recovers from this- except for a single passing statement from koala, asking him if he's 'had that dream again' because he'd been crying in his sleep. this is never brought up or addressed again. great!plus, we never do find out if getting blown up at the ripe old age of ten could have left any lasting fire-related trauma; and if it does, what does that mean for sabo, who's pretty much made of it, now?

both of these questions are answered at once- sabo treats the fire as if it's ace. it's ace's legacy he's carrying on, and it's ace he seeks freedom for. he copes by making sure ace lives on in his flames, and how can he ever hate the fire living in him if that fire is all he has left of the brother he never got to see again?

i just have to wonder about him, because he's got so many Issues that just. don't ever get addressed? every time we see him deal with his grief (episode of sabo, his own retelling of events in dressrosa) we never really discover anything about him. i wonder how it felt to finally remember the childhood that eluded him, just to find out he was an unwanted, replacable child. how he feels, living with the knowledge that he could have done something to save ace, that he'd failed to remember the two people he loved the most? i wonder just how terribly that guilt must weigh down on him- because where luffy's already begun to heal, sabo still sees ace in everything he does. his title of flame emperor is a direct callback to ace's final attack in his fight against blackbeard. he talks to his goddamn fire like his brother is still in front of him, which is sweet and heartbreaking and, considering his backlog of unaddressed trauma... incredibly unhealthy. i know these will probably be left unresolved for the sake of moving the story forward- but god, sabo, are you okay?

#one piece #sabo #asl brothers #portgas d ace #revolutionary sabo #i cannot stop thinking about him #his grief is so. silent #blink and you'll miss it #i wonder if he'll ever be able to reconcile the person he is with the person he never got to be #or if he's just. going to brush it off because Everything Is Fine Obviously #i know he's explicitly stated that he won't live in grief because ace wouldn't want him to #but coming to that conclusion when he's probably had no time to heal #just looks a lot like him holding his fraying edges together with duct tape #my poor sabo #my princess ....#anywayyyy this is just me rambling pls dont mind

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jaylver · 11 months

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YOU ARE IN LOVE — S.JY

SYNOPSIS: one summer. two idiots. what could possibly go wrong? you swore this was finally going to be a memorable summer, one where it'll be filled with adventures just like coming of age movies. but then jake sim just had to ruin it. how so? by taking over your head.

PAIRINGS: childhood bestfriend!jake x afab!reader

GENRE: childhood bestfriends to lovers, angst, romance, pining

WARNING(S): miscommunications, parties, alcohol, profanities

WC: 4.7k

A/N: this has been rotting in my docs for AGES before i even created this account 😭 i wanted to free it so here we are 👹 apologies in advance if it's tacky/lacky writing since this short fic was written when i was starting to get out of my burn out >.< lmk your feedbacks as always! <3

Summer is the best thing to ever happen to mankind.

Trips to the beach, ice cream dates, late night drives, house parties, the list goes on and on. And who else to spend it with? Of course, your one and only best friend and neighbour since you were four years old, Jake Sim.

Every summer was practically filled with him and him only. Ever since you were kids, you did everything together. Writing up lists and going on adventures, spending nights watching movies et cetera. But this summer, it seemed … different.

Maybe it was the problem of being seventeen. Seventeen is an awkward age. Period. But other than that, you couldn't understand the way he was acting.

Summer always started and ended with him. Always. But this summer, he wasn't anywhere near you. Occasionally popping by and disappearing after nightfall, declining late night movies together or beach trips. Rude!

It just felt weird without him. So, you found yourself turning up in front of his house one day, tapping your foot against the hard floor as you knocked impatiently on the door.

"Y/N?" Jake appeared in front of you, his eyebrows scrunched with confusion.

“Jake,” you smiled innocently at him, which only made him look at you with more confusion.

“Y/N it’s 10 pm?”

“I just wanted to see you,” you admitted, to which you cursed at yourself for letting those words escape your lips so shamelessly because it was something you couldn’t deny.

You could see the way his gaze softened, then proceeded to let out a sigh. “Is it … because I barely hang out with you these days?”

“So, you’re self aware this whole time?” you couldn’t help shooting back, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold wind brushed past. But even without the wind, you felt your body freezing up from the sudden burst of nerves.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been busy,” Jake frowned, guilt evident on his face. “Wanna come in, we can hang?”

Just as he finished his sentence, his phone buzzed, a notification popped up. Your eyes averted to the screen of his phone, catching a slight glimpse. “1 new message from Grace”

Your heart dropped. You knew Grace. Hell, everyone knew her, she was the cheerleader of your school after all. Miss Popular, Miss Crowned Queen. And Jake was texting her? Your Jake?

“So, Grace, huh?” Was this what he was caught up with all along? You mentally scolded yourself, wondering why you were even thinking about this when it wasn’t even your business to care about in the first place. This unreadable feeling was brewing in your stomach and you didn’t like it at all.

“It’s nothing, really. She texted me lately, that’s all,” he shoved his phone into his back pocket, giving you a reassuring smile. “Still up to hang?”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s getting late anyway. Tomorrow?” You didn’t know why you said this. It was never too late when it came to Jake.

“Sure. I–uhm–heard there’s a party hosted by this guy called Ethan? Wanna come along?”

You considered for a moment, then nodded. “I’m down.”

“Sweet,” he flashed you that goddamned smile, the one that charmed you until you felt light headed. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow,”

“Cool,” you smiled a little, feeling the air turning still for a second once you locked eyes with him. Your heartbeat quickened, it was as though air was sucked out from your lungs and all you wanted was him.

“W-Wanna come over watch a movie with me tomorrow before the party? I’m home alone all day and we haven’t hung out properly for a while now,” Jake offered, stumbling over his words as he fidgeted his fingers, ears turning slightly pink.

You grinned. “How about the new Spiderman movie?”

He let out a small laugh, returning a big grin back. “You know me too well, huh? Deal.”

“See you tomorrow then, Jakey,” you reached over to ruffle his hair, but before you could fully pull away, he took hold of your wrist.

“I’ve missed you, can’t you stay a little longer?” he whined, swinging your arm gently.

You cursed at him, at his words and the amount of butterflies they’ve caused. “You can’t just say things like that,” you murmured under your breath.

“Hm?” he hummed and you looked up at him.

You dismissed your previous words, hoping he didn’t catch on to them. “Tomorrow we’re hanging out the whole day anyway. By then you wouldn’t be missing me anymore,”

“I miss you every day, though. Stick to my side like the old days?”

“How could I say no, Jakey?” you sighed, your heart thumping louder and louder as seconds passed. “Now, go sleep dumbass, we need to wake up early.”

“Alright, alright,” he threw his hands up in defeat. “Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t stay up too late too, or else you’ll get premature wrinkles.”

“I’ll beat you up.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

It felt natural.

You were resting on Jake's chest, his arms around you, a bowl balanced on your stomach, a movie blaring in the background, the lights dimmed. It was natural.

"Peter's pretty dumb sometimes, isn't he?" You spoke up, hand reaching into the bowl of popcorn, feeling Jake's hand brush against yours to get some as well.

You tried to excuse the fact that you were about to choke at the slight contact, playing it cool as you chewed on your popcorn.

"Totally. Why would he even do that?" Jake huffed.

You looked up at him from his chest, admiring his face slightly, not even caring about what misdemeanours Peter Parker was committing.

Jake could feel you staring, and he decided to look down at you, your gazes meeting. This was what you two always do whenever you're watching movies, it should be normal by now, but why in hell were you suddenly nervous?

"Mum wants you to come over for dinner," you whispered to him, reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from his eyes.

"I'm more than glad to do so," Jake pursed his lips, watching your movements closely.

The tension seemed to grow thicker and the movie started to fade into the background as the two of you stayed in this close proximity. You unconsciously glanced at his lips, swallowing thickly once you noticed him reciprocating the same action.

"Y/N-"

"Jake!"

You almost let out a groan, but instead you looked away, clearing your throat and removing yourself from Jake's body. You were absolutely flushed, thinking of the endless possibilities that could've happened. But in the end, nothing did anyway. And that was why you were about to strangle Park Jong Seong for interrupting.

"Jay?" Jake fumbled to sit up, his eyes turning to you before refocusing on Jay. "Is it time to leave already?"

"Duh," Jay rolled his eyes, casually dropping onto the couch beside you. "How are you, Y/N? Been enjoying summer?"

"Quite," you simply shrugged. "Someone over here left me alone after he promised a summer full of adventures," you nudged Jake and he smiled apologetically.

"I got caught up with some things!" He defended but Jay raised an eyebrow at his words.

"Some things or some one?"

"What?" You turned to Jake, trying to mask your disappointment with sheer interest. "Is it Grace?"

"So … you knew?" Jay's eyebrows only raised higher.

"I only found out yesterday, indirectly as well." you said, clearly unimpressed.

Jake rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Come on, guys. She only texted me once or twice. I was busy cramming my work, okay?"

"That's true too," Jay nodded in understanding. "You practically procrastinated everything and now it's a pile,"

"Must you remind me of it?" Jake groaned, his attention to you, taking notice of your sudden silence. "You alright there?"

You blinked at him, humming in response. How could you tell him that your stomach churned with jealousy whenever Grace was mentioned? How could you even admit that you're currently harbouring some god forbidding liking towards him? Your childhood best friend? The one who once spilled chocolate milk all over his shirt? The one who cried when he was forced to go back home after a whole day together with you? Jake Sim?

You were fucked. You liked Sim Jaeyun. And you had zero idea what to do about it.

The house party was basically like every other one you've been to. Passed out drunks here and there, the dance floor crammed to the max, the music booming loudly in your ears. Overall, you felt regretful coming here.

What made things worse was Jake abandoning you to talk to Grace. Yup, Grace. Even after all the denial he fed to you and Jay, he's still laughing and talking merrily to her, leaving you stuck in the middle of an unfamiliar house.

What a great Friday night!

It was almost midnight, so you decided to storm out of the house for some fresh air before declaring your leave, but Jake somehow caught you sneaking out.

"Leaving so soon?" He was leaning against the wall, watching your tired figure semi-passed out on the chair.

"God, Jake, you reek of alcohol," you pointed out, scrunching your nose at the stench. "Also, I'm not that inconsiderate. I won't leave you behind … unlike someone over here," you grumbled.

"Look, Grace dragged me away the moment I entered. Plus, I think I got to start avoiding her now," Jake groaned, sitting down next to you.

"Broke her heart?" You assumed. It wasn't uncommon to see Jake reject girls and break their heart growing up. Well, look at him, it was a fact that he got girls lining up for him. But you found it weird how he's never had a long term relationship before, which only made you more wary about your feelings for him.

"I wasn't being a douche about it!" He threw up his hands in defence. "I kindly rejected her, that's all. She seemed cool about it though," he shrugged and you felt his shoulder brush against your arm, his thigh making contact with yours.

"Look at you, all grown up and no longer breaking girls' hearts!" You smiled sarcastically at him.

"Hey! I literally rejected all of them in a nice way. I'm a kind man, you know?" Jake huffed, stretching his body, then proceeded to slyly place his arms around you.

You were genuinely trying your hardest to remain the best poker face you could even manage. Yet, you knew the facade would eventually fade. "Sure, sure, Jakey boy."

He turned his body to face yours, a challenging expression written all over his face. "Do you remember the time when we were five and I gave you my legos? I still remember how many hugs you gave me every day after that. So yes, I am kind." Jake insisted.

"You remembered?" You grinned at him, feeling your heart rate increasing once you saw the fondness in his eyes.

"Of course I remembered," he said softly. "You give good hugs anyway."

"Want a hug?" You chuckled, not expecting Jake to actually dive into your arms and hold onto you tightly.

"You smell like strawberries," he murmured against your skin.

You swallowed thickly and started breathing heavily. "A–are you drunk?"

"Just a bit," he pulled away from your body, his brown eyes meeting yours, his hands slowly travelling up to your face.

"Have I ever told you how pretty you are?" He whispered.

"Don't do this," you mumbled, your hand reaching for his wrist.

"What?" He breathed, his warm breath fanning your cheeks.

"Don't make me fall in love with you completely," you stared into his eyes, slight hurt and regret painted your expressions.

"Fuck, why did I say that?" you laughed pitifully at yourself, removing yourself from his arms and stood up. "It's getting late, let's go," you said, ignoring Jake's lingering gaze.

"Y/N," he held onto your wrist and you stood rooted to the ground, not knowing what you could even say or do. You felt like an idiot. "W–what did you mean by that?"

"It's nothing," you dismissed his question, feeling yourself sinking into a deeper hole. Jake furrowed his eyebrows, clearly frustrated. The moment he got up, he stumbled slightly and his words slurred. The alcohol has finally seeped in.

"Y/N, come on," he urged, desperation in his eyes. All you could do was sigh.

"I'm sorry, Jake."

So you did what you always do every summer. You ran from your problems and hid from the fact you had lingering feelings for your "best friend".

You found yourself avoiding Jake after that night.

It was ironic how you complained about him disappearing in and out of your life during the start of summer, but here you were, doing the same.

He came over to your house a couple of times, but you chose the cowardly choice of hiding away. All of his texts and calls were half answered.

You hated doing this, you knew it was hurting both you and him. But what could you do? Confess? Well, it was the most obvious way to solve the problem, but you were unwilling to risk a life long friendship with him. Pathetic you were indeed.

The weekend rolled around the corner and you just had to face one demise after another. Jake and his family were coming over for dinner and there's zero chances for you to dodge him this time. Thank you, Universe, you thought sarcastically.

Your palms felt clammy and sweaty as you set up the table. Before this, your mother had specifically requested you to present yourself more formally instead of wearing your typical sweats, so now you were stuck in a black skin tight dress, just appropriate enough to not be deemed as slutty.

"They're here!" your mother announced, clapping her hands in excitement. You, on the other hand, were only filled with nothing but dread.

The door flew open and hugs were exchanged. Your mother squealed happily when she saw Jake and for a moment, you were about to do the same.

His hair was slicked back, only a strand was left hanging in front of his face. He was wearing a formal black suit paired alongside a simple black tie. He was about to be the death of you.

"Y/N." He nodded at you, lips pressed in a straight line.

"Jake." You replied back, hands kept behind your back, trying to conceal the fact that you were actually fidgeting.

"You kids are matching!" Mrs Sim pointed out, laughing delightfully.

You felt Jake's eyes on your body for a tense moment, sensing them scanning you from top to bottom. You met his gaze once he finished checking you out so blatantly, and all he did was smile at you innocently. Jerk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Why don't you kids go hang out yourselves?" Your mother patted your arm.

"Sure," Jake shrugged, smoothing out the fronts of his blazer.

"Great!" Your mother beamed, then leaned down to whisper to you. "Don't do anything weird, okay?"

You grimaced. "Ew." Must your own mother put the mental image of you doing something 'weird' with Jake into your mind?

You turned around, practically dashing up the stairs towards your room. And as always, Jake followed you like a lost puppy. Once he shut the door to your room, he faced you with a blank expression, devoid of any signs of what he's about to say.

"So? Are you going to explain why you were ignoring me?" Jake leaned against the door, his hands in his pockets as he stared at you, unimpressed.

"What if I don't?" you replied, sitting on the edge of your bed.

"I'll force it out of you somehow, you know I always get my way," he replied nonchalantly and you only rolled your eyes at him, knowing how he wasn't completely wrong.

Jake seemed to have noticed your silence and decided to break the ice first. "I remembered that night, Y/N. You can't hide away from me forever just because of what you said."

You groaned, burying your face into your hands, completely flushed with embarrassment. "Must you remind me?"

"How can I forget about it when my best friend literally told me she loves me?" He kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his. "Can't you just tell me how you feel? It's been days and nights since I felt at peace after what you'd said to me. What's worse is that I couldn't even remember it precisely. So please, just make it clear."

"Fine. Jake, I–"

"Y/N!"

You wished you could blow up right this instance. Out of every second, every minute, your mother just had to call you when you were about to come clean about your feelings. If you could, you would've liked to reach for the nearest pillow and scream into it.

"Well … next time, Jakey boy. Dinner calls!"

Before Jake could respond, you exited your room quickly, ignoring your thumping heart as you replayed everything in your mind.

Dinner was awkward.

Parents asking about each other's kids' situations and having deep conversations about life while Jake and you, on the other hand, were avoiding each other's gazes. Not ready to face whatever that had just happened.

You thought your torment was finally over when dinner ended and you found yourself dipping your legs by the pool when Jake silently joined your side, following your actions.

"You okay?"

You turned to look at him, kicking your legs slightly, you felt your shoulder brushing against his, thighs touching. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. Why?"

"Nothing. It was just that you were barely speaking all dinner and I got concerned," Jake pointed out and you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Everything's … complicated these days," you said.

At your words, Jake shifted a little. He knew what your "complicated" meant, it was about you and him.

"What even are we?" Jake spluttered out and you froze beside him, the water temperature suddenly dropping to 0 degrees.

"You really want to talk about that now?" You mumbled, frowning.

"Then when can we even face it? I'm tired of you running away and me being in the dark," Jake argued, turning his body to face you.

"Jake …" you were rendered speechless, your body still, guilt clawing its way into your system. "I just don't think I'm ready yet, okay?"

Jake seemed frustrated at your comment. "Y/N–"

"JAKE!"

It was his mother calling out for him and you heard him swearing under his breath. "Next time, Y/N. I'll wait for you."

With that, he left, leaving you completely dazed. He'll wait?

"Can you please come? They literally have a pool!"

Thursday night you found yourself at peace knowing nothing will ruin your weekend, until Jay's phone call. Being the party goer he was, he's now trying to convince you to tag along to some guy's party.

"What if I said no?"

"I don't take 'no' as an answer,"

"Tough luck, champ,"

"Come on, Y/N," Jay whined. "Everyone is going. I mean, Jake is, and that cute guy you mentioned from school — Heeseung — was it? He's there too. You can shoot your shot!"

You thought about it for a moment as you cursed Jay for being way too convincing. "Fine. Since you asked so nicely."

"I know I could always count on you."

Safe to say the party was going considerably well and you weren't about to leave just after arriving for only a solid 15 minutes. Jay remained by yourself for the whole time, conversing with his own circle of friends while your eyes searched for a specific somebody among the sea of people.

“I’ll go for a dance,” you nudged Jay, trying to get his attention.

“Be safe.” he simply said, but his words were filled with genuinity.

A couple cups of drinks definitely boosted your confidence as you shamelessly swayed your hips to the music playing in the background. The blinking lights blinded your sight, alcohol clouded your thoughts, unknowing to someone sliding close to you. Thankfully, your sixth sense never failed and you turned to meet the gaze of Lee Heeseung.

“Hey,” he casually greeted.

“Hi,” you breathed out, sudden shyness taking over.

“Wanna dance?” he offered and you nodded meekly. “Follow my lead,” he held onto your arms, circling them over his shoulder.

“Is this okay?” Heeseung whispered and you nodded once more.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. The cute guy from school was in fact dancing with you. You let yourself let go as you closed your eyes and swayed along to the beat of the music. This was heaven.

No matter how you tried to shake off that weird feeling, it never went away. You knew someone was staring at you, burning little holes into the back of your head intensely. You opened your eyes, letting them adjust to the startling lights and almost immediately, you locked gazes with him.

Lo and behold, Jake Sim, sitting across the room, his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed. He was clearly unhappy about whatever you were doing, and you loved the effect you had on him.

You smiled innocently, leaning close to Heeseung's ear. "I'm going to take a break. See you at school?"

Heeseung grinned at you. "Sure thing. I had fun dancing with you."

"Likewise."

Thankfully, you managed to waddle your way through the crowd alive and made your way out of the house for some fresh air. The atmosphere inside of the house was too heavy and the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol stuck in the air.

"Running away from me again?"

A voice came from behind you and you knew who it was immediately.

"Not everything is about you, okay?" You grumbled, hugging your arms around your body for warmth as you sat down on the front steps.

Jake joined your side, placing his hands on his knees, glancing at you from time to time. “Care to explain why you’re actively avoiding me?”

“I’m not,”

“Liar.”

You remained silent, not knowing what to say next.

“You were dancing real close to Heeseung tonight,” he pointed out.

“Great observation, Sherlock,” you finally dared to turn to look at him. “Can we head back in? I’m craving for a drink,”

Jake only nodded soundlessly, following your movements as you stood up to head back in. You felt bad, guilty even, at the way you’re acting towards your lifelong best friend, but you couldn’t help it, your emotions were basically choking you hard. You tugged on Jake’s shirt, ready to say something.

“Jake—” Just when you two entered, Jake was pulled away, not even sparing a second for you to process, so now you were alone.

“Great,” you mumbled unhappily under your breath, making your way to the drinks in the kitchen. Maybe they’ll console you instead. You genuinely wondered who’d cursed you countlessly whenever you were trying to confront Jake.

To your dismay, the kitchen was filled with drunk teenagers who were all busy mixing their new anecdote for the night. Plan B, not the kitchen.

You left for the living room instead, grumbling in annoyance since you couldn't get a drink. As you were about to turn a corner, you heard voices, very familiar ones and immediately halted your steps.

“You ditched Grace?” Park Sunghoon, the notorious figure skater who everyone was pining for, hissed.

Jake hummed.

“Is it because of Y/N?” Sunghoon asked, an undertone of suspicion laced in his voice.

"I don't like her like that," Jake murmured under his breath.

You froze. This couldn't be happening now, right? Out of any day, any place, it just had to be in a house, in the middle of an ongoing party. To be frank, you've already prepared yourself to face rejection every time you imagined confessing to Jake. But overhearing Jake's negative confession was surely not in your list.

"You're serious?" Sunghoon poked on.

"I don't know, man." Jake sighed in defeat. "Can we not talk about this now?"

You blinked away the confusing feelings you were currently having. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Was it hope? You couldn't tell. All you wanted was to be home, in your cosy bed.

There were many things you were afraid to do in life, such as talking to boys your age, socialising, confronting your crush and so on, but today, right now, you had zero regrets as you continued your steps, walking past Jake.

It was all white noises in your ears and blissful ignorance. Jake was calling after you, trying to reach you, but the crowd only ended up swallowing him whole.

Once you were out of the house, you found yourself finally breathing again, suddenly thankful for the fresh air. But there's a rather unfortunate problem for you, Jake caught up with you.

"Y/N," he breathed.

"Fuck off," you snapped, an overwhelming wave of emotions clawing in your body.

"Listen to me, I didn't mean that," Jake's voice rose unintentionally.

"Yeah? So you're expecting me to be totally fine as if nothing happened?" You frowned. "Well, hi Jake, how was the party? Not good? Why-"

"Stop! Why are you even acting like this?" Jake grabbed ahold of your shoulders, making you stare directly at him as he could tell you were about to flee at any minute.

"Because–" You shrugged his hold away. "I like you, Jake! Ever since we were fifteen. But you were always so clueless to tell. And this summer, you were basically too hung up over Grace to spend time with me, then that night when you said those things to me, do you expect me to act oblivious after that? And today, you said those words … how am I supposed to know how you feel?"

You couldn't tell what Jake was thinking. He practically had a poker face on, seemingly trying to take in everything you've just said. "Y/N …"

"What do you want from me, Jake?"

Jake took a deep breath, his features ridden with frustration as he burst out.

"I want you. Okay? Happy now?"

To say you were stunned was clearly an understatement. You didn't know what to say or act, staring at him with your mouth ajar.

"I–I have liked you since we were kids and I don't think I realised until this summer," Jake went on, clearly rambling in distress. "That's why I avoided you, Y/N. I was scared. I didn't know why I felt like that or what I should do. In the end, I figured it was you. It was always you, no matter what."

"Then have me, Jake."

"What?"

It was one of those moments where it felt entirely out of a movie. Jake could only stare at you wordlessly while you breathed heavily, a million thoughts running through your head and you’ve finally accepted it.

Oh no, you’ve fallen in love.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you grumbled under your breath, taking his face into your hands and pulling him in for a kiss.

When your lips touched, it felt as if countless emotions and unspoken words from over the years passed through like a connection. It felt right. Jake slid his hand around your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. This was absolute bliss.

You put your hand on his wrist, pulling away gently, eyes not leaving one another for even a second. The two of you pant softly, trying to catch a breath from the kiss and you started to shy away, in disbelief that this actually happened. Jake noticed, smiling a little, leaning down to press a gentle peck against the side of your mouth.

“Wanna stay over at mine tonight? I can drive,”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Laying in his bed with the lights off accompanied by the whirring of the A/C played in the background, his arms wrapped around you, the beating of his heart against your back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest, it was something familiar yet so new.

You turned around to face him, watching as he rubbed his eyes, stirring awake slightly. It was still dark outside, but Jake couldn’t fall asleep, finding himself treasuring your presence instead. You were brushing loose strands of hair away from his face when a strange look appeared and he spoke, voice sluggish.

"You're my best friend."

Somehow, you understood what he meant and you knew what it was. He is in love.

—

1K notes · View notes

the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 1 year

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Tokio Hotel Masterlist

This is my new masterlist for my new obsession!

Tom Kaulitz

Dating Tom Kaulitz Headcannons

Number One Girl

Not That Bad

Give Them a Headline

Tom Kaulitz x Thick Reader

Tom Kaulitz x Celeb Crush Reader

Tom Kaulitz Kissing Headcannons

Tom Kaulitz x Blunt Reader

Tom's Pet Rivalry

Reader Who Bites to Show Affection

Lazy Morning With Tom Kaulitz

Tom's Bestfriend

Tom Kaulitz x Sick Reader

Tom Kaulitz Argument Headcannons

Teen Parent Headcannons

Let The Lord Hold Your Tits

Enemies to Lovers HC's with Tom Kaulitz

Caught On The Bus

Tom Kaulitz x Goth!Reader

Tom's Best Friend Having a Crush On Bill

Tom Kaulitz x Insecure Reader

How He Talks About You in Interviews

Love at First Sight

Platonic Affection

Another Kaulitz Kid

Room for Two

Media Sucks

Tour Shenanigans

Co-Parenting with Tom Kaulitz

Pull Up Your Goddamn Pants, You Loser

Reader with a Russian Accent

Big Chested Reader

Ass Cheek Grabber

Reader With A Big Ass

Telling Tom Kaulitz You're Pregnant

Tom Kaulitz Seeing Your New Movie

Chaotic and Shameless Reader

Bill Kaulitz

Hair Dye Extravaganza

Designer Reader

Dating Bill Kaulitz Headcannons

It's Complicated

Bill Kaulitz x Thick Reader

Bill Kissing Headcannons

A Song For Bill

Bill Kaulitz Comfort Headcannons

Reader Getting Angry At Paparazzi

Bill Kaulitz x Embarrassed Reader

Bill Kaulitz x Motherly Reader

Hey Emo Boy

Bill Kaulitz x Mom Reader

Bill Kaulitz x Fem!Masc!Reader

Bill Kaulitz x Reader Who Is Proud To Date Him

Soon-To-Be Uncle Bill

Reader Who Bites to Show Affection

Snowed In

Approved By Your Sister

Bill Kaulitz Argument Headcannons

Bill Kaulitz as a Girl Dad

Matching With Bill Kaulitz

Bill and Reader as God-Parents

An Apology Wont Cut It

Bill Kaulitz Engagement Headcannons

Four Years Waited For

Sharing With Bill Kaulitz

Bill Kaulitz x Short!Reader

Bill Kaulitz x In-Love Reader

Bill Kaulitz x Reader With a Heart-Conditon

Bill Kaulitz x Celeb-Crush Reader

How He Talks About You in Interviews

Childhood Friends to Lovers

Bill Kaulitz x ADHD!Reader

Platonic Affection

Another Kaulitz Kid

Bill Kaulitz x SuperModel!Reader

Room for Two

Media Sucks

Bill Kaulitz x Exhausted!Reader

Tour Shenanigans

Meeting Your Brother's

Bill Kaulitz x Opposite!Reader

Bill Kaulitz x Jealous!Reader

Reader with Lorelai Gilmore's Personality

Reader with a Russian Accent

Reader With Commitment Issues

Ass Cheek Grabber

What The Fuck Are We?

Bill Kaulitz x BigChested!Reader

Reader With A Big Ass

Kisses In The Makeup Chair

Chaotic and Shameless Reader

Georg Listing

Platonic Affection

Room for Two

Media Sucks

Tour Shenanigans

Chaotic and Shameless Reader

Gustav Schäfer

Platonic Affection

Room for two

Media Sucks

Gustav Schäfer Fluff Headcannons

Tour Shenanigans

#tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel georg #gustav tokio hotel #gustav schafer #gustav schäfer #gustav schäfer x reader #georg listing x reader #georg listing

1K notes · View notes

py-dreamer · 10 days

Text

Man I am on a roll these days!

I love this doll base for the lmk characters, I actually drew some designs for the other lmk characters in this base in a notebook and as much as I would like to post them, Idk if that'll be any time soon.

I know in the show, Mk's headband is his signature. Even since childhood, I get that but I also saw a design of kid MK with him without the headband and fell in love.

Also he has light up sketchers. Cause why not.

It was a lot of fun doing the crayon drawings and seems like red and yellow are our lil prince's favorite colors, though it was a bit difficult to do them on such a small scale and at a slanted angle.

why does Mk have random building blocks?....

...

(I genuinely don't know)

Looking back, I do wish I made the toys a little more scuffed up cause while I do believe Pigsy would buy some toys and new clothes for his son the kid but I do love the idea that many of MK's old toys were hand me downs or at least second handed from Pigsy's past or even any cousins giving old toys or heck. Maybe some of Tang's university students found out their teacher has a new kid and give some old stuff to help out since Mk is a sweet kid and his appearance was quite spontaneous.

Perhaps that doll is a clone Wukong placed to keep an extra eye on the boy

BTW that love heart is NOT romantic in any way you creeps. Like how a child loves a toy, there is nothing weird happening here.

WUKONG IS HIS GODDAMN DAD/FATHER FIGURE AND IF YOU GENUINELY SHIP PEACHYNOODLES, GET OUT

OUT OF THIS HOUSE!

I try to respect different ships and opinions. I try my best.

But we see in the show, their father-son dynamic. I know there is a ship format of mentor x student but there is a clear parental relationship here!

It just feels icky, especially when you consider the inbalance of both power and experience in any 'romantic' context

Sorry, I just went on a tangent there, but hope you enjoy the actual piece and enjoy the easter eggs (>u ')/

(also out of curiosity, are any of you interested in the stopmotion film, Kubo and the two strings cause there might be a new au on the horizon!)

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 4 months

Text

Eddie Munson's second chance

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 14

Prompt: Angst with a happy ending

Rated: G

CW: referenced child neglect/abuse

Tags: Modern AU, Royalty AU, Royal Steve Harrington, Rockstar Eddie Munson

Notes: Continued from day 11. This was angstier in my head, but Eddie is a silly goose.

Eddie Munson is no stranger to fucking up. He's long accepted that. It's just a thing that happens.

Sometimes, you'll miscalculate a stage dive and have to cancel the rest of the tour.

Sometimes, you'll get so caught up in your stupid rockstar stuff, you'll forget about the youth center you founded to give other kids a better childhood.

Sometimes, you'll meet an adorable guy named Dustin at said youth center, and rant about how useless the monarchy is, only to find out that Dustin isn't Dustin at all, but Crown Prince Steven Harrington, aka the future king, aka owner of the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes that Eddie has ever failed to get out of his goddamn head.

Which brings him to his current predicament, sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for Chrissy to pick up the phone. She does after the second dial tone, which is pretty impressive for three in the morning.

"We must cancel the royal visit," Eddie blurts before she can ask what's wrong.

"Eds," she yawns. "We've been over this. Just because you can't stand the guy-"

"That's not it," Eddie groans. "Listen … I met him yesterday? Only I didn't know it was him? And I flirted with him and he was really cute but I couldn't keep my fucking mouth shut and now I can't ever see him again because I don't wanna rot in some dungeon, understand?"

"No," she says. Damn, it sounded perfectly logical in his head. "But this doesn't seem like something we should discuss on the phone. Stay put, I'm coming over."

They don't cancel the royal visit, but Eddie refuses to make an appearance. Instead, he watches from behind the curtains of the office window like a creep. The Prince looks dashing in his tailored suit, smiling for the cameras, joking with the kids, listening to Chrissy with polite attention as she shows him around the place. Eddie loves her so fucking much, will be forever grateful that she filled in for him.

Even if she tied it to one condition.

He watches how she whispers something into the Prince's ear, how his smile melts into an angry frown. How they both turn to stare at the window. Eddie flinches away from the curtains, heart in his throat.

He wonders if the dungeons have WiFi.

"You have exactly ten minutes," says the bodyguard. It’s the same one from yesterday, the one called Hop. Eddie doesn’t reply, just nods stiffly. Hop looks at him like he's contemplating murder, but then he ducks out of the room with a muttered all clear.

Prince Steven steps in. The door clicks shut. Silence descends.

"Well," Eddie finally mumbles. "I guess this is the part where I bow and grovel."

The Prince snorts. "Please don't, Mr Munson. I'd rather you save us both the embarrassment."

Eddie winces, because ouch. That stings more than it should.

Neither of them says anything for a long while. The clock on the wall keeps ticking.

"So," Eddie rocks awkwardly on the soles of his combat boots. "Who's Dustin?"

Those plush lips twitch into a smile and those pretty eyes light up. For a moment, Eddie glimpses the boy from yesterday.

"My housekeeper's kid. He'd be so mad if he knew I met you and didn't get him an autograph."

He says it with genuine concern, like he's honestly afraid of getting shit from a little kid, and Eddie can't help but grin.

"Don't worry, I won't tell."

This gets him a huffed laugh.

"He'd love this place, it's really cool."

When Eddie looks up, the Prince is looking at the picture frames on the walls, photos of smiling kids and drawings in crayon and watercolors. Eddie sighs and joins him, stares long and hard of a picture of Max on her skateboard.

"Thanks. I, um … grew up around here, and I wanted to give these kids a safe space. Where they can just … be children. I never really had that myself."

A thoughtful hum. Those hazel eyes are soft with an expression that looks weirdly like longing. Eddie remembers watching stories about the royal family on his uncle's rickety TV set. A solemn-faced boy his own age trailing behind his parents outside of private jets, in lush parks and gilded halls. Always in expensive suits. Always well-behaved. Always way too grown-up.

Well, shit.

"Listen, your highness …"

"Steve is fine."

"Listen, Steve …" Eddie lets the name linger on his tongue, finds that he likes the feel of it. "I guess I've been a bit of a dick."

A hint of that bitchy little smile. "You guess correctly."

"Whatever," Eddie huffs. "I'm trying to apologize here, so may I? Or are you throwing me in the dungeons?"

"The …" Steve blinks. Then, his mouth starts to curl. "We, um … don't actually do that anymore. Unless you're into that, then I'm sure it could be arranged."

Eddie sputters and Steve bites back a laugh.

"If you really wanna make up for it," he then says. "I hear your concert next week is all sold out? Dustin would love backstage tickets."

Eddie frowns.

"Dustin as in the kid or …"

"Steve?" Hop cracks the door open. "Time to go, c'mon."

Steve smiles, bright and sunshiny. "On my way."

He turns to Eddie, grabs a pen and a notepad from the chaos on the desk.

"Backstage tickets, two of them. I'll be expecting them by tomorrow."

When Chrissy bustles in not five minutes later, she finds Eddie in the office chair, staring morosely at the still drawn curtains.

"Eds? Everything okay?" Eddie just groans and hides his head in his hands, so she crouches down in front of him, hands on his knees. "He didn't give you shit, did he?"

"Shit? I wish. No, it's far worse than that." Eddie cackles hysterically and unclenches his fist, presenting a crumpled piece of notebook paper. "He gave me his number."

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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topherwrites · 2 months

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SNOWFLAKES IN MY STOMACH WHEN WE'RE KISSING

summary - spending the holidays with jake's family isn't always smooth sailing, but little else matters when you're grossly in love. (also - jake dresses up as santa for his nieces and nephews, you're real into it.) pairing - jake seresin x (fem!)reader word count - 2.7k rating - nsfw content, 18+, mdni! content warnings & tags - no use of (y/n) / mostly fluff / jake being super in love / jake's family celebrates christmas / very brief angst / me being incapable of giving jake a good childhood / brief mention of childhood abuse / swearing / alcohol consumption / dash of smut / fingering / lmk if i missed anything! a/n: a little belated christmas one shot for you all. reblogs, comments, and likes super appreciated! TOP GUN MASTERLIST / LIBRARY BLOG

Heat audibly blasts through the vents, the entire house sweltering. A solid summer day indoors. His mother won’t even let anyone touch the thermostat. In her defense, she grew up without a lick of snow on the ground and now it’s fifteen degrees in December, a real white Christmas.

Which isn’t exactly ideal for Jake considering he’s been roped into wearing a Santa suit for his young nieces and nephews. The suit is all red polyester—the least breathable material known to man—and thick faux fur cuffs. It’s causing him to start perspiring where sweat simply shouldn't be, his white undershirt clinging to his back and his crack.

“It’s too goddamn hot in this thing.”

Unbuttoning the jacket, he airs it out, the relief near immediate.

Over his shoulder, he catches sight of you lounging on the guest bed—the one his mother oddly insisted that you could share—odd because that’s been a hard and fast rule for all the non-married seresin kids since his older sister began dating.

When she’d pointed him to the room, he’d paused, waiting for her to tell him which room would be yours, separately. Exactly like the sole previous time a girlfriend had stayed the night, way back in college, he figured you’d be placed in the room past his parents so no premarital shenanigans would occur. When that moment didn’t come, he’d stood there stupefied till you bumped his hip, nodding in the direction of the room.

Then he found out that with his brother and sister, their spouses and kids, and a few stray cousins and aunts staying, every other room was already occupied tenfold when he showed up with you in tow.

He wasn’t sure if he would actually come down until a few days before, on the fence about spending so much time packed together with his family. But you’d volunteered to go along with him, meeting everyone besides his mother for the first time. Offering yourself up as a buffer.

It gives him pause less and less, just how much you care about him. Warmth spreads through him at the memory.

He was thankful that you had a bunch of airline credit banked, otherwise booking so late during the peak holiday season flights would’ve cost an arm and a leg.

Your feet kick back and forth as your eyes drag up his back, not put off in the slightest by his melting-like-frosty-the-snowman state, meeting his gaze with a heat you don’t attempt to hide. His irritation at the outfit dispels at your attention, melting away into something far sweeter.

“Is this doing it for you?”

“Oh,” your voice strained, “yeah, absolutely.”

And while there’s a bit of humor to the whole situation, what with the whole ‘being dressed as Old Saint Nick’ thing, your attraction to him isn’t a joke in the slightest. Sweaty, sunburned, exhausted. You seem to take a liking to any form Jake comes in.

You continue, twirling your finger in a slow, instructive circle, humor alighting in your eyes, “Do a little twirl for me, baby.”

He laughs but gives in to your borderline indecent direction, turning steadily on his heel. He does a slow three-sixty, letting the jacket fall to his waist so your eyes can freely roam. Turning back to you, he takes you in the sight of you before he closes the gap, crawling over you to give you a kiss.

Things are so simple with you, you never make him work for your affection, it’s always present, even in your teasing. He doesn’t feel that pang of being inadequate that his father instilled in him when he was young—the pang that he let drive him for far too long into his adulthood. He can breathe right around you, loosen his tongue, soften his words. He can be a good man, not just a good pilot.

He loves you. You love him. Everything is right in the world.

────────────────────────

The kids love the whole theatrics of him dressing up like Santa, faux beard, and all. He answers their inquiries into whether or not he’s their uncle Jake with a falsely grandiose tone, handing them their presents—you’re not sure if they fully buy into it, but they all seem to be having fun.

Sipping on a mug of coffee, warm in your palms, you watch him from afar as he juggles holding two of his nieces, one dangling off of his arm like it's a monkey bar and the other calmly being held on his hip.

Ainsley and Avery—without judgment, you wonder what the reasoning is to name all your kids with the same first letter, like Pokemon evolutions.

“He’s always been good with them. Kids.”

Ah, the dreaded (potential) future mother-in-law ambushing you about kids part of the day. You had that penciled in for sometime around… now, generally. You look over at her. She looks back at you with a familiar glint in her eye. God, Jake looks just like her, same straight nose and dimpled smile and hooded eyes.

Mae doesn’t mean any ill will. You’re aware. But it all still settles ominously on your shoulders. The breadth of the unknown, what the future could hold, kids or not—whether or not you and Jake will even get that far, you hope so.

You nod slowly, calmly noting, “That’s not surprising.”

You see the way he is with them, how much they adore him. It’s a nice picture. But you're both still undecided on whether that’s one that you want of your own.

She seems to detect that you’re not going to humor her about the subject, dropping it. She looks at your empty mug, “Do you want a refill?”

────────────────────────

You casually gesture to the sprig taped to the doorjamb above you, “Is that what you were up to earlier?”

You note the little red berries, the toothed leaves, and the bush-like appearance.

“Maybe.” With a self-satisfied smile, he shrugs. His large palms grip at your waist, gently pushing you against the doorway.

You scratch at your cheek. “You know that’s not mistletoe, right?”

Holly. It's a frequent mistake, mostly from movies that wanted something to hang with a little more visual pop than actual mistletoe. He sighs, head falling back as he glares up at the traitorous plant. You’d never pass up the chance to poke a little fun at him, but now you want to bring the smile back to his face.

You poke at his side, bringing those pretty green eyes back to you, “But I suppose I can spare a kiss regardless.”

A smile creeps onto his face, warmth clear in his gaze. He leans his weight into you, not enough to crush but enough to let you feel all of him. Tilting his head, his voice drops as he questions, “Oh, will you make an exception? Bend the rules? For little ‘ol me?”

Breathing the same air, his nose nearly brushes yours. Everything but him, every sound and sight is extraneous—it all just turns to static.

You hum in agreement, “For you.” You brush the pads of your fingers along his cheekbone, intentionally gentle, enjoying the way his lashes flutter at the gesture. “Now give me a kiss.”

Like the ever-dutiful soldier he is, he dips his head in assent, “Yes, ma’am.”

He takes the green light, gently molding his mouth to yours.

────────────────────────

His sixteen-year-old nephew, Sam, heckles him across the dinner table, quietly calling him a “fucking simp” as he hands you a refill of eggnog with a quick peck—that becomes two or three at his insistence, his lips chasing yours. His tone isn’t cruel, just an attempt at embarrassing his uncle.

He gets a smack upside the head from his dad—Jake’s older brother, Matt—for the language at the table, quick and sharp. Recycled material from their own childhoods. He tries to suppress the instinctual flinch, annoyance burning in his chest at how years later his heart is still sent racing. Jake wonders if he too, will become like their father. If it’s unavoidable. Something built into him. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree with his brother.

He knows that he has the capacity for cruelty in him and though it doesn't come as quickly these days, he still has to make an active effort to not be a dick sometimes, especially with Bradshaw.

And then, a hand, warm and stabilizing, slides across his thigh, squeezing tenderly. His eyes bounce around the table, everyone pointedly looking at their plates, just like when they were young and his father thought that one of them needed corporal punishment for acting like a kid.

Except for you, whose eyes are focused on Jake with so much understanding that he can’t help but knock his boot into his brothers.

“Don't do that shit.”

A tense moment follows. The clatter of forks stop, drinks pause at lips, and everyone’s eyes plant on him, perplexed that it’s been acknowledged in the slightest. Matt levels a stare back at him, and he wonders if he’s going to hear their dad’s signature line come out of his brother’s mouth—don’t tell me how to discipline my kids—leveled at anyone who ever expressed concern for the way their father treated them, teachers, other parents, their own mom.

His brother is the one to blink first, dropping his eyes down to his plate as he stabs at a piece of asparagus. The festivities resume around them. Quieter.

It’s not a real acknowledgment. But he’s drawn a line in the sand.

Sam continues looking at him for a few more moments. He wonders if his nephew knows just how similar their childhoods were, why his father is the way that he is. Not that it would make it better, but it might help him to know that it’s not him, some fault of his own.

Jake always thought that it was him. He knows a little better now.

────────────────────────

After all the kids have been bundled up in beds and the adults break out the liquor, it doesn't take long for Jake to crash. Sprawled on the couch next to you, his arm draped around your shoulder becomes less of a pleasant weight and more of a log hanging around your neck.

You tap his stomach, softer and less-toned after the holidays—at your insistence that he actually eats some sugar for once and doesn’t, under any circumstances, wake you up at five am during your vacation so he can go for a run. You’re glad that he’s taken the threat seriously, that he’s taking it easy and actually relaxing while you’re here. He grumbles at your touch but barely stirs, about eighty percent tired, twenty-percent drunk.

“Christ, when did he become such a lightweight?” His brother directs his jibe disguised as a question to you.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, standing up. You pat his thigh, holding your hands out. “Up and at ‘em, lieutenant.”

His eyes peel open at the use of his rank. Blinking awake, he flops his hands into yours, not taking a strong grip. You're thankful for the fact that he barely relies on you to help himself stand, swaying minorly as he does so. You’re not particularly eager to see what’d happen if you had to haul all two hundred pounds of Jake upright on your own.

You both trod up the stairs. His hand caressing the silver tinsel wrapped around the banister as you go, the Christmas lights hung from it setting the staircase in a warm glow. With your arm looped around his waist and his looped around yours, you make slow progress towards the room at the end of the hall.

He toes off his boots as you shut the door to the bedroom, flopping backward onto the bed. Eyes fluttering sleepily, a hint of a smile on his face, he sighs out a breath. Voicing his inner thoughts aloud, his voice is gentle, “I'm so happy.”

The statement settles sweetly in the air.

Taking hold of your hand, he pulls you on top of him. His eyes heavy, he isn’t particularly conscientious about where you’re going to land, so you have to catch yourself before you knee him in the dick. Straddling him, you find your place in his lap. Affection, as it always does, blooms in your chest at the sight of him.

“Are you as happy as I am?” His question is gently curious, none of his old insecurity laced through.

You slowly nod, hands smoothing over his chest as you lean over him. “Yeah, I really am.”

Under your palms, you can feel him huff a pleased sigh.

Large hands land on your thighs, smoothing up and down the bare skin under the hem of your skirt. His eyes roam over your figure, from your legs, your waist, your chest, finally landing on your face, “You look so pretty. Have I told you that?”

Suppressing your smile, you squint as you tilt your head, imitating deep thought. You hum, “Mm, about twenty times today.”

“I think you could stand to hear it one more time.” He sits up on his elbows with surprising swiftness, his nose brushing along your cheek before his lips settle next to your ear, “You are so pretty.”

He pulls back just enough to kiss you, lips gliding softly over yours. He tastes like rum and vanilla. Under you, you feel him grow half hard. It’s one of the things that you never really expected from him, just how needy of a drunk he is.

He slips his tongue into your mouth, large palms squeezing at your hips as he guides you to rock over him. His breaths mingle with your own as he pulls back, panting, “You wet for me?”

Rucking up your skirt past your hips, his hand slips into your underwear and he swipes two fingers through the wetness collected there before you can—for the sake of his sleep schedule—gently turn him down. You fold over him, smothering your moan into his shoulder as he pushes in, his palm immediately harshly grinding against your clit. With your own buzz sliding through your body, you melt into the pleasure, task entirely forgotten.

Burning heat spreads through your core, your cunt clamping down around his fingers. It’s so good—it’s always this way, like he’s read the manual on your body. Slick sounds echo in the otherwise quiet room; your gut twists, high building.

Just as you're about to fall over the edge his movements slow, and the peak he was working you to begins to dissipate. But you're left on the edge as his brain seems to intermittently connect to its previous task, working over your pulsing clit. Your hips kick into his palm, the not quite enough stimulation tortuous. You try to roll off of him, but the arm around your back stays put. He grumbles for a moment. You nearly yelp at a shift of his palm shoots electricity up your spine.

You shake his shoulder, “Jake, Jake.”

“Mm,” he hums, “no, no.” He blinks himself only half-awake, eyes still drooping, “Second wind.”

You reach behind your back, sliding his arm from around you, pressing it to his chest. You draw his hand out from under you, the drag of his fingers sending waves of heat through you. Pressing a kiss under his jaw, you whisper, “Go to sleep.”

Eyes still closed he slides the fingers that were just inside you past his lips, casually cleaning your arousal off them. You have to pretend like that doesn't make your cunt pulse with need. He rolls onto his side, then mumbles into the pillow, “Fine, but I’m going to rock your world in the morning.”

You pat his stomach, placating him—sure that in the morning he’ll remember that he’s surrounded by his parents, siblings, and their offspring, that the walls are a little too thin for what he wants to do to you.

You collapse on the bed beside him, already nodding off.

You're proven wrong in the morning. He sends you over the edge twice with his head trapped between your thighs and his palm sealed over your mouth. And at breakfast, you have to play off the flush he carries as the AC putting out too much heat, smiles barely suppressed.

e/n: thank you for reading!

tagging those who liked the teaser: @mamachasesmayhem @pricelessemotion @sorchathered @dizzybee03 @always-and-forever-at @ofstoriesandstardust @sunlightmurdock @withahappyrefrain @aworldwideapart @shamelessghostwagonwobbler

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #my writing

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katyawriteswhump · 3 months

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Livin’ the dream (steddielovemonth day 3)

After High School, Eddie and Steve’s lives don’t exactly go as planned… For @steddielovemonth day 3 prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap (@unclewaynemunson) Thank you <3

Rating: M. CW: Unhealthy/abusive relationship (NOT steddie!) Tags: No Upside Down AU, angst. WC: 2,225

…

“I’d never have dreamed,” said Eddie one morning, during his daily stop at Dave’s Diner, “that Steve Harrington pouring my coffee would become the highlight of my day.”

Steve smirked. “Wasn’t exactly how I saw my future either, Munson.”

While Steve poured, Eddie left his hand on his coffee cup. He always did—even if the cup got too hot. Even if it scalded him. He’d not miss a chance to have Steve that close. Nor to enjoy staring at those lickable arms, today exposed to the shoulders by a snug-fitting vest top.

“I guess you really dig lousy weak coffee, man,” said Steve.

“Sets me up for a busy day fulfilling my childhood ambition of hauling bricks, darlin’.” He’d gotten away with ‘darlin’’ last week. Steve didn’t chew his head off today, either, so… “Living the dream, huh?”

Steve sighed hard, started wiping the counter near Eddie, over and over, as he always did. “How’s your pay?” asked Steve quietly.

“It’s a day rate. Not stellar, not the pits. Why? You looking for other work?” Panic rocked through Eddie. “You’re not leaving this place?” Though it would be awesome if we worked together. Eddie was already fantasising about those hot summer days on the construction site, when Steve might strip his shirt off.

“Nah, not really,” said Steve, “I’m kinda tied to this job.” He ran his free hand distractedly across his eyes. Tied to this job—what the heck did that mean? Steve often seemed world-weary and withdrawn. Incongruously so, given the confident guy he used to be. But that was adult life, so it seemed. It sucked.

All the same, Eddie experienced an uneasy urge to probe deeper. Steve got in first: “Hey, how’s the band?”

Eddie beamed. Yeah, there was one other thing, other than coffee with Steve, that he lived for: “We got a gig Saturday night.”

“Let me guess—the super bowl came begging?”

“Haha, just you wait, big guy. It’s at that new bar in town. You wanna come?”

Steve paused his scrubbing. Something sparked in the depths of those big, beguiling eyes that made Eddie’s throat tighten, and his pulse beat faster. “I’m working,” said Steve. I’ll try and get away aft—”

“Hey, kid! You gone blind or you really this lazy?” That was Steve’s boss, Dave, who’d gotten the biggest arms Eddie had ever seen. “There’s more than one punter in this place. If you can count that high?”

“Jesus, he can be such an a-hole,” mumbled Steve. He shot off, even as Eddie bleated:

“See you tomorrow?”

…

Only seven people turn up for Corroded Coffin’s gig. It was a total dud, and Eddie didn’t give a shit.

Among the seven, was Steve.

The crappy too-bright venue lighting revealed Steve undressing Eddie with his eyes, as surely as Eddie undressed Steve. Eddie was so blown away, he almost messed up the finger work on his most bodacious solo.

After the final number, Eddie placed down his guitar and made a beeline for Steve: “Hey, you made it.”

“Figured I might as well. Jon Bon Jovi wasn’t returning my calls.” Steve snickered, and Eddie literally drooled. Metal thrummed through his every vein, and his blood rushed madly—most of it heading south. Steve Harrington CAME TO MY GIG AND STAYED FOR THE NON-EXISTENT AFTER-PARTY. Steve’s vest top was sadly missed, but his tight t-shirt still afforded Eddie a glimpse of that tasty chest hair, and the skin-tight jeans were… Gnnng! And as for the touch of eyeliner?

Slayed Eddie dead.

“You wanna come backstage?” Eddie’s voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

“I’d like a drink. Preferably something stronger than coffee, and that I don’t have to pour.”

After his sixth shot, Eddie went in for the kill: “You are literally the hottest fucking thing I have ever goddamn seen.”

“Not exactly slick.” Steve leaned close, and Eddie inhaled his fast, bourbon-spiced breaths. “But I guess it’s a step up on ‘do you come here often.’”

Eddie silenced him with a blockbuster kiss, which Steve returned instantly. Within moments, Eddie was up off his barstool, hands roving wildly over Steve’s delicious torso. Okay, also wandering around to pry under his tight t-shirt, and to grope that mega-hot denim-clad ass. Steve pawed Eddie with equal enthusiasm, setting his barstool rocking till it toppled back.

He jumped off, straight into Eddie’s arms. Wow! There was nothing better than kissing somebody roughly your own height. Back at school, he’d figured Steve was a lot taller than him—like most jocks, he’d had that early spurt of growth, Eddie guessed. Then Eddie had more of less caught up, and now..? Yeah, everything had changed, all his preconceptions thrown to the winds. Best of all, Steve had turned out to be a good dude.

Also, the best kisser ever.

They made out like their lives depended on it, tongues sliding together, slickly and keenly. Meanwhile, despite the hotness, all those sweet moments over coffee crammed together in Eddie’s head.

You are the highlight of my life… The light of my goddamn life! How come this took so long?

Then, as abruptly as it started, Steve broke the kiss. He staggered back into his stool, setting it rocking again. “Shit!”

“Oooookay.” Eddie felt like he’d been punched. “Used to that in gig write-ups, but—”

“Oh God, no… It’s not you. It’s so not about you. This was a terrible idea.” He knocked Eddie’s fingers from where they lingered on his hip, and sidestepped, placing the barstool between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s about me, Munson, so you can quit the goddamn kicked-puppy-dog eyes.” Erm, back at ya, Harrington. “I’m with another guy, okay?” He laughed, and somehow, it was one of the most miserable sounds Eddie had ever heard. “I didn’t think we’d… Look, I really shouldn’t have come.”

With that, he bolted.

…

Eddie got to the diner super-early on Monday morning. He’d barely thought of anything other than Steve, who was no longer simply his secret crush. Or even the light of his life.

Without exactly knowing why, Eddie was pretty much dying with worry for him.

Steve didn’t pour Eddie’s coffee. He dumped the pot on the counter, emoted unwelcomingly with hard-set features, and hurried off to take a table order. Which he then headed out back to prepare.

Eddie waited. He was gonna be late for work, and his boss would give him an earful, and he really couldn’t give a crap.

The diner emptied out, and eventually, Steve emerged from the back, mouthing:

“What the Hell?”

“I needed to see you, Steve.” Steve glared at him, and Eddie did a double take. Steve looked more exhausted than ever, shadows stark as bruises around his eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Saturday was a big mistake. Huge. Had an argument with my boyfriend about it, that’s all. Scram, will you?”

Steve’s boss came out from the back. Steve emoted wildly again, shooed Eddie, and the truth dawned. And was slammed home when Dave slapped Steve’s butt—scowling at Eddie, as he did so—then grabbed Steve’s shoulders, spiralled him about, and shoved him off in the direction of another table awaiting service.

“Either you place another order, or get lost,” said Dave to Eddie.

Eddie ordered pancakes and waited.

“Dave? Seriously?” hissed Eddie, when he finally got Steve’s attention again. He begrudgingly admitted Dave was okay looking. All the same: “He’s a dick! And he’s gotta be old enough to be your dad.”

Steve edged close, talking so fast and hushed Eddie strained to follow. “My parents threw me out. I was on the streets! Dave was… good to me, took me in, and now… I’m kinda stuck. He takes my rent out of my wages, and there’s never anything left, and—”

“You need to get away from him, man.” Eddie felt sick. Somehow, he burbled it out: “Leave the son-of-a-bitch. Right now. You can crash with me.”

“You live in your uncle’s trailer! He’d be beyond thrilled, I’m sure, and Dave would…” Steve’s mouth hung open a moment. He’d what? Come after you? “Look, I’m okay. Dave’s all right, really. Gets grouchy sometimes, that’s all.”

Eddie spouts the next question before he can stop himself. “Do you love him?”

Steve tossed his arms up in despair: “What kinda dumbass question is that?” Yeah, Eddie wants to facepalm. In retrospect, it was truly dumb! “Look, he doesn’t know who I saw on Saturday, but he’s already bitching about you hanging around too much. Just fucking go already!”

Eddie didn’t drive on to the construction site. Instead, as his brain screamed, You’re batshit crazy, he pawned all his meagre possessions, even his beloved Warlock. His plan only faltered when Wayne caught wind of him going to a loan shark. His uncle literally dragged him from their office and insisted on lending Eddie all his scant savings.

Eddie refused. Wayne refused harder. They headed to the second-hand dealership and purchased the cheapest RV in the yard.

Next morning, Eddie trundled his rusty 1960s Volkswagen into the forecourt of Dave’s Diner. He gritted his teeth, squared his shoulders, and moseyed through the door like a gunslinger and about to unleash hell. One that was also trembling like jello, packing zero heat, and practically pissing himself.

“Got my own place now,” he said to Steve.

Steve looked mad, refused him even a coffee cup, though Dave didn’t seem to be around. Yet. “This isn’t happening, Eddie.”

“My place has got wheels, darlin’.” Eddie motioned to the RV outside, dropped his voice to an undertone. “It’s a big country. We can go anywhere. I’ll park up half-a-mile along the road. Wait all day. All night, if you need.”

Steve eked tight words from between gritted teeth: “Look, I don’t wanna sound ungrateful. It’s still a ‘no,’ man. You must have gone cuckoo. I mean, what about your band?”

Yeah, that brought a pang to Eddie’s chest: “Honestly? The rest of the guys are losing interest fast. I can fly solo. As long as you’ll fly with me?”

Dave strode out from the back. The flash of fear in Steve’s eyes cut Eddie to the quick, because it also hollered, You’re making things worse!

Oh God, what’ve I done?

“You’re barred,” yelled Dave at Eddie. “I see your long-haired loony mug one more time, you can kiss my fist.”

“Subtle you ain’t, asshat.” Eddie retreated, literally a mangy, kicked dog. He drove the RV that half-a-mile along the road and waited. And waited. By midnight, he felt like his heart had been wrung dry, and eventually, he fell asleep.

A loud thudding roused him. He sat up, blinked at his unfamiliar surroundings and then… Shiiiit! He dashed to the door.

Steve perched on the step, his wide eyes glowing with something… unfamiliar. Some sparkle that might just be hope. He’d gotten a very small bundle slung over his shoulder.

“I hope you were serious?” asked Steve.

“Deadly serious, darlin’.”

Steve took Eddie’s face in his hands, and kissed him, briefly, almost chastely. Totally mind blowing. “So good to do that without feeling guilty,” he murmured, smoothing kiss-wetted lips together.

Eddie grinned; he wasn’t even quite sure if this was real: “Let’s get the Hell out of Dodge,” he said.

They hit the road, and they never looked back.

…

Three months later

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” cooed Eddie, as the Hawkins pawn shop owner handed his Warlock back across the counter. “I missed you soooo much.”

“Ugh, seriously?” bitched Steve, as soon as they exited the store. He blocked Eddie’s path along the sidewalk, planted his hands on his hips: “Should I be jealous?”

“Nah. We’re a proper family now.” With his guitar safely stowed in its case, he slung an arm around Steve, and they walked on toward where they’d parked the RV. “Tho’ when we get to Wayne’s, I might have a moment with my long-lost beloved. While you two watch the game.”

“No funny business, Sweetcheeks, or I’m absconding with a second-hand Yamaha keyboard.”

Eddie beamed broadly. It felt so weird, being back in Hawkins, and with hope, at least, for a better future. Not even having to worry about… “You know, I kinda want to thank Chief Hopper in person for arresting your douchebag ex.”

“Yeah, well, he put a guy in the hospital.” Steve shuddered. “They’ve charged him with attempted homicide.”

God, I’m so relieved it wasn’t you, thinks Eddie.

Steve rattled out a joyless laugh that Eddie hadn’t heard for some time, and said, “Jesus, I’m so happy it wasn’t you.”

Suddenly, Eddie’s eyes brimmed with tears. It’s too much. He can’t bear to think of what might have been. “Love you so much,” he blurted, fumbling for the keys for the RV. He couldn’t get up the steps and inside with Steve fast enough

“Love you too,” whispered Steve, once the door was closed, and sounding slightly choked, also. Which isn’t like him.

They clasped each other tighter than ever, and did their darndest to kiss the bad memories away.

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