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rvp32 · 9 months

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The Games We Play: A Tale of Lust

TW: Litle BDSM, edging, overstimulation, spanking, Fingering

The morning didn't kick off on the best foot; your coffee maker chose today to call it quits, depriving you of that one blessed potion that tethers your sanity and prevents you from going all rogue. But hey, the day took a turn into interesting territory when you found yourself trapped in the corner store.

Picture this: a young woman wrapped up like a mystery package from head to toe, was in full-blown panic mode, tearing her surroundings apart in search of her elusive wallet. And what's the big deal, you might ask? She was in a race against the clock, not wanting to miss a date with destiny, also known as a crucial meeting.

No need for Shakespearean monologues here. You stroll over to the cashier, cool as a cucumber, and flash your card. The cashier does her beep-boop thing, wrapping up the transaction with a flourish. Meanwhile, your attention shifts to the enigmatic woman in distress. Your lips don't even need to flex those vocal cords to convey your message, "Miss, let me cover this tab."

With a nod that could put a ballerina to shame, you collect your goods and graciously extend the bag with her belongings. It's like an unspoken understanding, a scene right out of a modern fairy tale.

Exiting the store, you're just about to slide into your trusty vehicle when a voice, as sweet as honey and warm as a summer breeze, pierces the air, "Thank you!!" It's her, the masked damsel in this retail distress. In response, your lips curl up in a smile that’s more contagious than a chuckle.

A courteous nod on your part, a grateful chirp on hers, and you’re on your way, ready to chase down whatever adventure the day's got planned for you. Just as you’re about to speed off to your meeting.

*****

The office had that early morning hush, a quiet anticipation hanging in the air as folks trickled in, not quite ready to dive into the grind just yet. You found your way to your designated corner room, plopped your stuff down, and decided to indulge in a quick social media scroll.

Just as you were lost in their world, a voice, as familiar as your heartbeat, cut through the calm. It was none other than Roh Jisun, not just a colleague, but one of your closest pals and your trusty secretary.

She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Who got you smiling like an idiot, don't tell me you finally got yourself a girlfriend."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good morning to you too, Ji. You know me, I don't do the girlfriend thing. Just enjoying some highlights from the football games," you replied, setting your phone aside. "So what's on the agenda today?"

"Well, lucky for you, there isn't much on the schedule today," Jisun replied, wisely steering clear of your notoriously dry love life. "Just a meeting with an idol for a brand endorsement and some documents to review."

Your eyes lit up with excitement. "Yes! That means I can head home early today. Let me know when they arrive; I'll dive into some reference material so I don't sound like a complete idiot."

Jisun chuckled at your candidness and made her exit.

With files spread across your desk, you delved into the world of this idol selected by the marketing wizards. She was no ordinary star; she was the crème de la crème, one of the hottest idols of the current generation. Since your knowledge about idols was about as deep as a puddle, the files laid it all out for you - background info, detailed analysis, the works.

As you neared the end of the file, the section with photos, you were hit with a punch of awe. To say she was pretty was like calling a sunset 'nice.' She looked like an angel who had graced Earth, but there was an undeniable fragility about her. The images had you entranced, lost in admiration.

A polite knock at your door brought you back to reality. "Sir, the folks from Starship Entertainment are here to discuss the brand endorsement deal," Jisun reported in her professional tone. "Should I let them in?"

"Please, do," you nodded.

One by one, three individuals entered the room. And then, as if fate had a wicked sense of humor, she walked in. The same woman you'd crossed paths with at the convenience store, only now she was without her mask and hat.

"Oh, what a coincidence," you remarked, extending your hand. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Wonyoung."

Her eyes sparkled with surprise and gratitude. "It truly is! I can't believe the chances. Again, thank you so much for helping me out." Her smile could light up a city.

"Please, have a seat."

The negotiations flowed seamlessly, and everything fell into place. The deal was set, and a date was locked in for the commercial shoot. "I'm looking forward to working with you. Thanks for your cooperation. Here's to this reaching the heights we're hoping for."

As they left, you settled back in your chair. But a mere moment later, there was a knock on your door, followed by Wonyoung's head peeping in.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, curious about her return.

"I want to thank you for helping me out today, so please let me treat you to dinner," Wonyoung offered.

"Alright, just let me know when and where to pick you up," you replied, raising an eyebrow at the surprise on Wonyoung's face. "That was easier than I expected. Can I get your phone number? You know, to text you the details."

A sly smirk played on your lips as you motioned for her to come closer. She hesitated for a moment before approaching, maintaining eye contact without saying a word.

"You know, Miss Wonyoung, I need your phone to input my number, unless you've got a photographic memory," you teased, causing a blush to creep up on her cheeks. She fumbled for her phone in her handbag, and you deftly entered your number. Handing her phone back to her, you remarked, "It's a bad habit to stare at someone, Miss Wonyoung."

"I'm really sorry, I didn't realize I was staring. I'll text you the details. See you then," Wonyoung practically bolted out of your office.

Shortly after, Jisun walked in, her voice carrying a hint of sternness. "What was all that about? What did you say to make that angel run away?"

"Calm down, Ji. I just teased her a little. She wanted to thank me for helping her," you replied casually, not missing a beat as you continued to read the documents.

"You'll never change. Why does she want to thank you?" Jisun inquired, curious about the situation.

So you recounted the whole story about your chance encounter with Wonyoung. Jisun burst into laughter and commented, "Wow, it truly is an incredible coincidence."

You returned to your documents, but something else was occupying your thoughts, or rather, someone. Regardless of what the papers said, your mind kept drifting back to the interaction with Wonyoung. Her subtle nervous movements, the way she blushed at your teasing, and the pure excitement in her eyes when you agreed to her proposition—it all danced in your thoughts, like an enchanting melody that refused to fade.

After a few painstaking hours of wading through and approving a mountain of documents, you'd finally conquered the pile Jisun had left on your desk. Packing up your laptop, you decided it was high time to replace that dearly departed coffee machine. Strolling through the store, your gaze was momentarily captivated by a Pepsi ad featuring none other than Wonyoung's larger-than-life cut-out. You couldn't help but admire her beauty for a few seconds before shaking off the distraction and making your way to the appliances section.

With a new coffee machine in tow, you headed back home. It only took a couple of minutes to set up the shiny new addition to your kitchen. Eager to wash away the day's toil and dust, you headed for the shower. There, amidst the soothing cascade of water, your thoughts inevitably drifted back to Wonyoung and the unexpected events of the day.

The cold shower did wonders to invigorate both your mind and body. Afterward, you settled onto the couch and noticed a message from an unknown number. It was Wonyoung, inquiring if you would be free tomorrow evening. You quickly replied, confirming your availability.

Within moments, another message popped up, this time with a reservation at a well-established restaurant. You didn't argue with her choice and appreciated her initiative. With the dinner plans set, you wandered into the kitchen to prepare your meal for the day. Tonight, it was a simple yet delicious dish: rose pasta with grilled chicken thighs on the side.

Having savored your homemade dinner, you retreated to your cozy corner, book in hand. The words on the pages wove a soothing lullaby, and before you knew it, you had surrendered to the embrace of sleep, calling it a day.

********

The day seemed to fly by, yet the thought of Wonyoung lingered in your mind like an intoxicating poison. Numerous scenarios involving her had taken root in your thoughts, and it was fair to say that most of them were far from what people might expect. What you realized was that your attraction to Wonyoung wasn't of the romantic variety. It was something deeper, something about the way she seemed fragile and innocent that piqued your interest and stirred a side of you that rarely saw the light of day.

As the day drew to a close, it was finally time to pick up Wonyoung. Arriving at her house, you sent her a quick text to let her know you'd arrived. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Wonyoung in a stunning black off-the-shoulder dress.

"Good evening, Miss Wonyoung," you greeted with a warm smile, holding the car door open for her. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Good evening," she replied with a soft smile. "You're quite dashing yourself, Mr. CEO." With a final exchange of smiles, you closed the door and headed to the driver's seat.

"How was your day? I hope it wasn't too tiring," you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you as you drove.

"It was relaxing, honestly," Wonyoung replied with a smile that lit up the car. "It was my first day off in a while, so I finally got some good rest."

"That sounds wonderful. I apologize for monopolizing your precious free time then. I hope I can keep you entertained," you quipped, trying to tease her a bit.

Wonyoung's blush deepened, but she met your gaze with sincerity. "No, not at all. You seem like a very interesting person, and I would love to spend time with you."

Her direct response caught you off guard, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words. "That's very kind of you," you finally managed to reply, a genuine smile gracing your lips. "I look forward to getting to know you better as well. Maybe we can be friends."

You noticed a subtle change in Wonyoung's demeanor, her smile fading ever so slightly after your last comment, but you decided not to dwell on it. "What do you like to do during your free time, Miss Wonyoung?" you inquired, attempting to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"Please call me Wonyoung, you don't need to be so formal with me," she replied with a warm smile. "I love to read, hike, and watch shows," she added, her gaze wandering around the interior of the car.

"Alright, Wonyoung," you said with a playful twinkle in your eye. "Reading, hiking, and shows, huh? Sounds like you've got a nice mix of hobbies. Any recent favorites?"

She leaned back in her seat, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Well, I just finished a gripping mystery novel that had me up all night. And as for hiking, there's this trail I love near my place. It's so serene and peaceful."

You nodded, genuinely intrigued. "A mystery lover, huh? Any recommendations? I might need some new reads."

Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Oh, definitely! I'll text you a list. And speaking of recommendations, any favorite shows or movies on your end?"

You chuckled, realizing you might be in for some teasing. "Well, lately I've been into documentaries a lot more than shows.."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. "I guess I was wrong about you being interesting."

You both shared a laugh, and the car seemed to hum with a newfound camaraderie. As the evening unfolded, you discovered more about each other's quirks, interests, and shared laughter. The chemistry between you was undeniable, with a hint of flirting and teasing that only added to the intrigue of your blossoming relationship.

The drive seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, even though it had been nearly half an hour. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you found yourself thoroughly enjoying Wonyoung's company. Arriving at the restaurant, you helped her out of the car. However, as you made your way toward the entrance, she stumbled, and instinctively, you reached out to prevent her from falling.

In that brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes locked, and the air between you thickened with an undeniable tension. It was as if an electric current passed between you, and before you knew it, she leaned in, and your lips met in a kiss that felt heavenly, charged with a depth of feeling that took you both by surprise.

Her lips tasted divine, and as you pulled her closer, your mind wandered to places that were vastly different from the sweetness of the moment. Desires and tastes that diverged from the mainstream public swirled in your thoughts, and it shook you to your core. You pushed her away, breaking the kiss abruptly.

Wonyoung's shock was evident in her doe-like eyes, now brimming with tears. "Wonyoung, we shouldn't do this," you stammered, your voice strained with difficulty. "I'm not the right person for you. You deserve someone better. I'm not the person you think I am."

Deep down, you yearned for more, to ravish those heavenly lips and her enchanting body. But you knew, for both your sakes, this path was fraught with complications you didn’t want to put her through because it would destroy her innocence.

"Wait, are you gay? I'm so sorry; I should have been more careful. Please forget this ha—" Wonyoung began, but you cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "No, I'm not gay," you replied. "It's just that I have certain... something else. Let's just get dinner, and I'll show you what I mean afterward," you said, hoping to evade the topic.

Walking towards the restaurant, with Wonyoung following closely, her curiosity got the better of her, and she pestered you with questions. "Tell me what it is. It can't be that bad, I'm pretty open-minded. Please tell me; I'm so curious!"

You shot her a stern glare that left her looking shocked, but she quickly pushed back. "That glare isn't going to shut me up. So tell me what it is, and I'll shut up."

Before you could respond, the waitress arrived to take your order. You ordered for both of you without giving Wonyoung a chance to continue her line of questioning. As she filled the water glasses, you placed one in front of Wonyoung and instructed, "Drink it." She did so without protest.

"If you aren't going to tell me, at least let me guess, and you just say yes or no," Wonyoung suggested, her curiosity undiminished.

Wonyoung's questions came one after another, each one prying into the mysterious aspect of your life. You responded with straightforward "yes" or "no" answers, hoping to keep the conversation from delving too deep.

"Are you a criminal?" she inquired.

"No."

"Does it have something to do with your sexuality?"

"No."

"Do you have any medical issues?" Her gaze traveled in an unexpected direction.

"What? No, I'm perfectly healthy!" you retorted, feeling a bit flustered.

"Is it something related to your preferences in bed?" she ventured.

This time, you simply nodded.

Her response was unexpected, a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Oh, spicy. Are you perhaps into BDSM and power dynamics?"

Although you didn't verbalize a confirmation, your expression said it all. You were taken aback by how quickly she pieced it together.

"Oh my god, I can't believe I got it so fast," she exclaimed. However, her lack of further comment left you in an awkward silence, uncertain about how she truly felt about your revelation. It seemed she either felt uncomfortable discussing it or maybe had her own reasons for not pursuing the topic further.

Before you could say anything more, the food arrived, and you decided not to probe any further, not wanting to spoil the mood any further.

As the meal continued, you couldn't help but notice that Wonyoung wasn't eating properly. Her playful approach to her food caught your attention. "Wonyoung, eat properly. Don't play with your food," you advised, trying to maintain some semblance of decorum in the restaurant.

Wonyoung responded with a mischievous smirk. "What if I don't want to?" she teased, her words carrying a hint of suggestion. "Are you going to punish me for being a bad girl, Daddy?"

Her remark left you momentarily flustered and choking on the food, a rush of thoughts and desires flooding your mind. You quickly regained your composure, though, and tried to steer the conversation back to safer territory. "Let's just enjoy our meal," you suggested, hoping to quell the tension that had unexpectedly arisen.

The rest of the dinner passed in silence, the earlier tension still lingering in the air. Wonyoung had insisted on paying the bill as a gesture of thanks, but you had already settled it before she could reach for her wallet.

"I was supposed to treat you as a thank you!" she protested.

You brushed off her protests with a gentle smile. "Consider it my way of saying thank you for entertaining me."

The two of you left the restaurant, and Wonyoung followed closely as you made your way back to the car. The silence continued, hanging heavily between you. Then, out of the blue, Wonyoung broke it with words you never expected to hear from her pretty lips.

"I want to experience how you control others. How you will fuck me and make me beg"

The shock of her words hit you like a jolt of electricity, causing you to slam on the brakes and bring the car to a sudden stop at the side of the empty road.

Locking eyes with Wonyoung, you delivered your words with a firm and almost grave tone. "No, you don't," you asserted. "The things I do aren't like what you watch in movies. And even if you were serious about this, I don't believe your fragile body could handle it. Pretty things can be easily broken if not taken care of. What I do doesn't show much care for you; it would push both your mind and body to the limit."

Your words were a serious cautionary note, aimed at changing her thoughts and preventing her from a path that held potential danger and discomfort.

Wonyoung's smirk persisted, and a playful tone danced in her voice. "'I'm not as fragile as you think I am. Moreover, I don't believe you have what it takes to break me, Daddy,'" she quipped, her words filled with a hint of teasing. "On a more serious note, I honestly think you're all talk. There's no way you can actually make someone beg."

Wonyoung's taunting and challenging tone persisted as you continued the drive. She seemed entirely unshaken by the gravity of the topic, and her curiosity was piqued.

"So, Mr. CEO," she continued, her voice laced with playful skepticism, "are you saying you can make someone beg for your control? You must have some secret weapon or technique, right?"

Your eyes remained fixed on the road, and you responded, your tone still cautious. "It's not about a secret weapon or technique, Wonyoung. It's about understanding boundaries, trust, and consent. It's not something to be taken lightly."

Wonyoung, however, seemed determined to push your buttons further. "Boundaries, trust, and consent? Those sound so boring and safe. Where's the excitement in that?"

You let out a sigh, recognizing that she was testing your resolve. "There's a difference between excitement and recklessness. What I do, or rather, what I've explored in the past, is not a game. It's a realm that requires responsibility and understanding, especially when it comes to the well-being of all parties involved."

Wonyoung leaned back in her seat, a challenging glint in her eye. "I still don't buy it, Mr. CEO. You'll have to prove it to me."

Wonyoung's taunting continued unabated, and it was clear that she was enjoying pushing your boundaries. She leaned closer, her tone dripping with mischief. "Come on, Mr. CEO, don't be so serious. Show me what you've got. Make me beg or are you going to be a coward and run away?"

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you felt the tension in the car reach a boiling point. You had tried to warn her, to convey the gravity of what she was asking, but she seemed intent on testing you.

Finally, unable to contain your frustration any longer, you slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a sudden halt by the side of the road. Without thinking, your hands found their way to Wonyoung's throat, fingers pressing firmly against her delicate skin. The shock in her eyes mirrored your own as you choked out the words, "You have no idea what you're asking for, Wonyoung." She releases a small moan.

The moment hung in the air, charged with a dangerous energy, and you realized that you had crossed a line you couldn't uncross. Wonyoung's playful taunts had ignited something within you, a darkness you had long kept in check.

Your responsibilities, your reputation, and everything else faded into insignificance as you drove to your house, your mind consumed by a primal desire. Once you stepped inside, there was no turning back. You pulled Wonyoung with you, and in the dimly lit hallway, you pinned her forcefully against the wall.

Your hand gripped her throat, and the other held her wrists firmly above her head. The room seemed to close in around you both as you whispered into her ears, your voice laced with a warning and a final chance for her to bail out. "Is this what you wanted, Wonyoung? This is your last chance. After this, there's no turning back."

The intensity in your eyes burned as you awaited her response, the gravity of the moment weighing heavily on both of you.

“Yes, This is what I wanted, for you to restrain me and have your way with me,” Wonyoung says, her eyes filled with determination, to experience what it feels like to let someone have complete control over what happens to your body.

You immediately kiss her, the kiss unlike last time was harsh, filled with lust. Both your tongues exploring each other's mouths. Sliding a knee in between her legs causes her to moan into the kiss.

Wonyoung grinds on your thighs, enjoying the friction. You let go of her throat and hands, now exploring her body but ending up on her ass, squeezing it and feeling her stiffen up with the contact.

Breaking away from the kiss you pull Wonyoung toward the room that you kept locked away from everyone. Wonyoung followed obediently. Once the door is open you push Wonyoung into the room and she falls onto the bed.

“Take off your clothes,” It wasn’t a request but a command that Wonyoung obeyed. Watching her remove her dress was like watching a movie unfold, it slowly got better. Now she was in her bra and panties.

“Kneel,” After Wonyoung's obedient response, you left the room momentarily to get changed. The air was heavy with anticipation, and every moment seemed to stretch.

You returned to the room, your presence felt as you stood behind Wonyoung. Your fingers began to braid her long and silky hair, a soothing and intimate gesture that contrasted with the intensity of the situation.

As you worked on her hair, you explained the dynamics of what was to come. "This is how it's going to go," you began, your voice firm yet reassuring. "You do everything I tell you to. If you do well, then I will reward you, and if you don't, you get punished. It's simple, isn't it?"

Wonyoung nodded, her trust in you evident. But you had one more important thing to convey. "One more thing," you added, your voice softening with genuine concern. "If at any point you think you can't handle something, say the color red. Everything that we're doing will stop immediately, and I will make sure you are fine. Your safety and well-being are my top priority."

With these words, you set the boundaries and the rules, ensuring that this journey would be a consensual and mutually satisfying experience for both of you.

With a gentle kiss on Wonyoung's neck, you left her in a state of heightened anticipation, a mix of confusion and excitement swirling within her. She could hear your movements but couldn't predict what would come next.

When you returned, it was with a blindfold in your hand. Placing it delicately over her eyes, you obscured her vision, taking away her ability to see. The loss of sight heightened her other senses, making her acutely aware of every sound, touch, and sensation. It also added an element of unpredictability, deepening the intrigue and excitement of what was to come in this shared exploration.

In the dimly lit room, a tremor of excitement ran through you. Here, within these four walls, everything was under your control. It was an opportunity to satisfy a desire that had remained hidden from the world, a longing that had been kept secret. The urge to witness vulnerability, to see tears, and to have someone willingly surrender themselves to your complete mercy had always been there, lurking beneath the surface.

With every breath, every whispered command, and every touch, you were stepping into the territory you had long kept locked away.

With a firm but controlled grip on the newly braided hair, you pulled Wonyoung up and whispered into her ear, your voice dripping with stern intent. "I'm going to make you regret every single word you said during the car ride, Princess."

Wonyoung shivered in response, the weight of your words sinking in, a mixture of anticipation and fear coursing through her.

Wonyoung yelped in surprise as you pushed her onto the bed, and her heart raced with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. She had entered a realm of unknown sensations and desires, and the anticipation of what would happen next was palpable.

The sound of your footsteps drew her attention, and she turned her head in your direction. As you joined her on the silk, a hard slap landed on her cute butt.*Yelp* It was a sharp, stinging sensation that sent a jolt of electricity through her, awakening new sensations and desires that she had only begun to explore.

Slowly unclasping her bra, you squeeze her ass and give it a couple of spanks. Wonyoung is now whimpering. “Spank yourself, Princess, it better be hard, I want to see your handprint on that cute ass of yours,” Leaving Wonyoung by herself, you grab a pair of leather handcuffs.

Your tone shifted from stern to gentle as you cooed comforting words to Wonyoung. "That's enough," you murmured soothingly. "You did such a good job, princess, such a good girl."

With a reassuring touch, you grabbed both of her hands and cuffed them, ensuring they were secured firmly, making it clear that she wouldn't be able to escape from your grasp.

You introduced a new element to the unfolding scene, a game that would both challenge and please. With a commanding tone, you explained the rules to Wonyoung. "Now let's play a game," you began, your voice unwavering. "For every slap, you will count and apologize for being a brat."

Wonyoung nodded in compliance, but you demanded more. "Use your words, princess. You are a human, after all, aren't you?"

With a submissive "Yes, sir," she complied.

The first slap landed firmly, and Wonyoung counted, "1, I'm sorry for being a brat." You repeated the action, the impact slightly harder, and she continued, "2, I'm sorry for being a brat." The third strike came down, causing her to gasp with a mix of pain and arousal. "Ah!! 3, I'm sorry for being a brat."

Satisfied that she had apologized sufficiently, you reached for a glass of ice on the bedside table. Taking an ice cube, you placed it on the sensitive area where she had been struck. The sudden coldness against her heated skin made her gasp and squirm, but you held her firmly in place, introducing a thrilling contrast of sensations to the experience.

With a practiced ease, you flipped Wonyoung's petite body around, exposing her erect nipples and toned midriff. The anticipation in the room was palpable as you continued to explore the depths of desire between you.

Grabbing another ice cube, you placed it delicately on her left nipple, the sudden coldness on the sensitive spot causing Wonyoung to instinctively bring her hands down from above her head. But you were swift, catching her hands and placing them back where they belonged.

Taking the ice cube into your mouth, you traced a tantalizing path around her left mound, ensuring no part of her was left without attention. You moved to her right nipple, repeating the same maddeningly slow and sensual exploration while simultaneously pinching and playing with the other one.

Wonyoung's voice filled the room, a chorus of pleasure and desire escaping her lips as her body squirmed uncontrollably. Her legs rubbed together in a desperate attempt to find some relief from the various sensations that were overwhelming her senses, aching for release and satisfaction.

You continued your teasing exploration, trailing the ice cube slowly toward Wonyoung's belly button, relishing in the way her back curved from the heightened sensitivity. The room was filled with an electrifying tension, desire mounting with every passing moment.

Finally, you removed the one piece of clothing that was drenched, a clear indication of how excited Wonyoung had become. The ice cube hovered just above the spot that begged for the most attention. A simple act of blowing air on her very wet core caused Wonyoung to moan in desperation.

"Please," she managed to say, her mind clouded to the point where forming a coherent sentence was a challenge.

But you weren't ready to make it easy for her. "Please what, Princess?" you teased, relishing in her vulnerability.

Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she brought her hands down to cover it as she stammered, "Please touch me there."

You continued to push her boundaries, enjoying the game of control and surrender that had enveloped you both, as you whispered, "You have to be more specific, Princess. I've been touching you the entire time."

Wonyoung's initial response was mumbled and unclear, but when you demanded she speak louder, she screamed, "I want you to touch my pussy, please. I need it!"

Granting her request, you gently played with the swollen nub, eliciting a sharp reaction as her toes curled with the newfound sensation. After some tender foreplay, you decided to take it further, inserting one finger into her. Wonyoung's moans grew louder, her arousal undeniable.

Using your free hand to continue playing with her sensitive nub, you slowly pumped your finger in and out, savoring every sound and reaction she made.

But Wonyoung's desire burned fiercely, and she begged for more. "More, please. I need more," she pleaded, her voice dripping with need. "Please put one more finger or eat me out, please!"

You couldn't resist teasing her a bit more. "Such a needy slut," you taunted, delivering a slap to her pussy that made her scream. "Only good girls get to make demands."

Desperate and on the edge, Wonyoung responded fervently, "I'm your good girl, Daddy. Please give me more. I need it so badly."

With a sense of control that heightened the intensity of the moment, you decided to edge Wonyoung, not once, but four times. Each time, you brought her right to the precipice of release and then denied her the ultimate satisfaction. It was an exquisite torture that pushed her desire to its limits.

The first time you edged her, her moans filled the room as you skillfully brought her to the brink, only to stop just when she thought she couldn't take it any longer. "Please," she begged, her voice filled with desperation. "Please, Daddy, let me come. I need it so much."

But you were relentless, and the second time you edged her was even more intense. Wonyoung's body quivered as she teetered on the edge of release, her pleas growing more urgent. "Please, please, I can't take it anymore. Please, let me come. I'll do anything."

The third time you edged her, her cries of frustration and longing filled the room. "Daddy, please," she whimpered, her body trembling with need. "I'll be a good girl, I promise. Just let me come."

But you denied her once again, pushing her to the limits of desire. The fourth time you edged her, Wonyoung was a writhing, desperate mess. "Please, Daddy," she sobbed, her voice cracking with need. "I need it so badly. Please, please, let me come. I'll do anything you want."

With your words of encouragement, you leaned down and moved closer to Wonyoung's ear, your breath hot against her skin. "Go ahead," you whispered sensually, "show me how much you needed it, show me what a slut you are!"

Nibbling on her ear, you continued your passionate ministrations, pushing her closer to the edge. Wonyoung finally let go, surrendering to the pleasure she had begged for and needed so desperately. Her back arched, her body trembled, and a stream of liquid gushed out, staining the perfect silk sheets beneath her.

Without giving her much time to recover, you immediately take out your cock and position yourself in front of her freshly used pussy. As you slowly move in, wonyoung’s body reacts to your cock by screaming and tightening around it. She was very tight, almost like this was her first time.

“Wait, slow down, please. I am so sensitive, Daddy, please! Wait!” Wonyoung pleads and you agree. Once she nods signaling that she is ready you continue till you bottom out.

“Oh God, you are filling me up so well” Wonyoung manages to say in between moans.

“Princess, can I start moving now?” You ask because you can no longer hold back. Wonyoung makes eye contact with you through the mirror across from the bed and says “Yes, Daddy”

With her permission you begin pounding like there is no tomorrow, Wonyoung responds with nothing but moans and occasional screams when you hit her sweet spot. Her moans are like melodies you will never get tired of hearing. Playing with her clit as you pound her push her over the edge as she orgasms again, “Fuck! Daddy!” Wonyoung screams.

Even though Wonyoung had reached her orgasm you continued to pound her tight pussy. “Please, please, too much, Daddy!” The overstimulation frying up nerves in her brain and sending her to a mental state she never knew she could possibly achieve.

Wonyoung brings her hands to stop you from moving but you grab them, her eyes rolled back and back arched as you continue pounding. “DADDY NOOO!”

“This is your punishment, baby, who said you could cum? This is your punishment!” You grunt as you put more force into the thrusts Every thrust sends waves of pleasure through Wonyoung’s body.

“AGH, GOD!!” Wonyoung screams she starts to mumble things that you can no longer understand, you continue to chase after your orgasm.

“Where do you want me to cum, Princess?” You ask as you reach closer to your peak.

“I-inside, Daddy” Wonyoung manages to say in between her loud moans.

“Fuck baby, Daddy is going to cum in your tight pussy,” You grunt,

“Yes, Daddy fill me up, I need to feel that warm cum in my pussy please!” finally Wonyoung manages to form a coherent sentence. With her explicit consent, you unload the biggest load of your life in Wonyoung’s pussy.

“Fuck, Princess that felt so good, You were such a good girl, my lovely princess,” you say after you envelop her in a hug and place a kiss on her forehead.

“Yes it was, I never knew pleasure could be so intense!” Wonyoung said as you pet her hair. Silence fell in the room but Wonyoung said “This is just the beginning right?”

Realizing how insatiable Wonyoung is and how good the sex is, you reply “ Yes, Princess. From today onwards you belong to me, you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy, I love the way you touched me. I need your touch, it's intoxicating and addicting” Wonyoung says as she nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck.

#ive wonyoung #kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #bd/sm kink

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sommerregenjuniluft · 2 months

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@jegulus-microfic april 1 - spring - 1340 words (of domestic bliss with little harry)

Sundays are slow in the Potter household.

One would think James doesn’t like the pace of it, always having to do something usually, always active, moving around or talking, tugging at his loved ones or caressing their skin, but he does. It hasn’t always been this way but with getting older and especially since they’ve become parents James had noticed how his body and mind welcomed the one break in the week to just shut off and recharge.

They’ve fought their way through a cloudy March and with the arrival of April, spring is finally here.

James loves spring. People always assume it’s summer—and credit to them, because he does—but there’s just something about the rebirth of everything that comes after the long gloomy fall and icey winter period. The birds chirp with their return and in search for a mate, insects buzz lively and everything brightens with colour.

Like clockwork, Harry appears in the threshold of the master bedroom at around 7 am, deer plushie in a tight grip by the antlers, his dark mob of hair messy as anything. He drowsily rubs the sleep from his eyes, face squished and James sometimes thinks he might die from how adorable their four year old is.

He grabs his glasses, pushes back the sheets and plants a gentle kiss on Regulus’ cheek where he’s still knocked out like the dead and smushed into his pillow.

Harry pads wordlessly into the living room, James hot on his trail. Though while Harry goes in search of a children’s book for James to read to him, James makes a detour to the kitchen. He fills them two bottles with the tea they let out on the counter overnight, preparing one for Regulus as well for when he wakes up. He cuts up some fruit and vegetables and grabs the packets of rice cakes and crackers from the pantry, loading it all on a tray before he sets on to the living room.

Harry is already curled under the big fleece blanket they keep there, grinning when James rounds the corner with their pre-breakfast.

“Morning, dada,” he greets, sweetly.

James’ chest swells. “Morning, pumpkin,” he returns, pressing a kiss into Harry’s hair, setting down the tray. Before he takes his place next to his son he walks over to open the big terrasse glass doors.

“How’d you sleep?” James asks, plopping down next to Harry who immediately snuggles closer, plushie still in hand.

“Good,” Harry sighs contently and James can’t help himself when he brushes some of his hair back from his forehead and kisses him again. “Can you read to me?”

It’s a hidden object book but James knows what he means. He grins, “’Course, Hazza.”

They do just that for a bit, James describing what’s going on on the pages, creating a story for recurring characters. Skipping back and forth with Harry randomly pointing out another happening of the drawing while he’s munching away on his rice cakes and cucumbers and the occasional grape.

It’s still mildly cool, especially when a faint breeze picks up, moving the grass outside and swishing inside but Harry’s still wearing long pyjamas and James knows he’ll tell him if he’s too cold. He simply burrows further under the blanket and into his father’s side. James runs hot anyways.

When Harry decides they’re done with books James puts on a nature documentary for them.

They’re teaching about the strength of some rainforest ant species when Regulus shuffles into the room, arms wrapped around himself and eyes nearly closed.

“Morning, Papa,” Harry whispers excitedly, already wiggling out of James’ embrace even though he knows Regulus will join them there in just a moment.

A smile tugs at Regulus’ lips as he blinks his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering agonisingly beautifully and giving way to soft grey. James swears they get a little more blue every time right around his birthday, like Regulus is just another subject to the changes of spring.

“Mornin’,” Regulus sighs happily when he squeezes Harry against his chest, peppering the side of his head with kisses until he pulls away, tugging Regulus along to James.

His eyes are already closed again when Regulus nuzzles into the crook of James’ neck, pressing a kiss there before he gets comfortable.

“Morning, love,” James murmurs, voice thick with adoration, audible even to himself, and he strokes Regulus’ exposed arm softly.

The spell of Sunday is thick in the air, heavy in their bones.

Harry, usually the most lively child, always animatedly talking about something or the other, giggling, making jokes or doing mischief, is quiet now too. It’s routine, the way he grabs for Regulus’ arm and squeezes between his two dads, waiting for James to absently card his fingers through their hair and send them back to their slumbers.

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes before Harry’s breaths are deepening and it’s marvellous. Magical in the way that Regulus’ presence seems to calm him so much it pulls him back into another nap.

James smiles so wide, looking down at them like that for so long that his cheeks start straining.

He watches a bit more of the documentary, snaps a few obligatory pictures of them on his phone and sends them into their family group chat. Monty sends back a pixelated picture of a zoomed in shot of Effie in the garden, Sirius replies with a shaky snapshot of him running with the dogs and Remus answers with an aesthetically pleasing picture of what seems to be the breakfast he’s preparing for the two of them.

James’ belly growls hungrily at the reminder and when his gaze falls on the lone grape sitting in the bowl on the tray he decides it’s time for breakfast.

It’s nothing short of artful the way he extracts himself from besides Harry and Regulus without rousing them before he heads for the kitchen.

He grabs flour and sugar, eggs and milk for pancakes, as well as the bacon, bagles and cream cheese. It’s meditative to put together all the ingredients, set the table and assemble syrup and blueberries and chocolate chips. Halfway through James remembers the leftover quinoa in the fridge and between placing patches of batter in a sizzling pan he whips them up a quick salad as well.

The smell in the kitchen is divine and James has already made acquaintances with the joyful bluetit in the tree by the window by the time Regulus comes into the kitchen with Harry on his hip. He’s babbling now, talking Regulus’ ear off by the looks of it and Regulus hums and nods and gasps at all the right places, looking ridiculously endearing with his curls mussed and an imprint of the couch cushion lining his cheek.

“Morning, champ,” James teases, smacking a loud kiss over the line in Regulus’ cheek.

Regulus growls quietly, grinning despite himself, “You’re lucky I love your cooking so much.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky,” Harry parrots, grinning widely.

James tuts with faux affront, “What kind of sentiments are you teaching our poor child, Regulus. I’ve been standing in this kitchen for hours now. How about a ‘Thank you, daddy’?”

“Thank you, daddy,” they both reply in unison though Regulus’ has a decidedly different tone to it that makes James point the spatula at him in warning.

Regulus just smirks before he leans heavily into James’ side and rips a piece of pancake off of the ones already on a plate, blowing on it before dividing it in half and feeding it to Harry and himself.

James tasks them with setting out glasses of water and orange juice, mugs for tea. On Sundays coffee is banned in the Potter house. Regulus thinks he can wind himself out of his caffeine addiction that way.

When everyone is done and everything is in place they all sit down together, legs tangled under the table, smiling warmly at each other over their plates of delicious food, the spring breeze ruffling their hair and clothes pleasantly as it drifts through the open window.

#jegulus raising harry #jegulus #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus fluff #james potter #regulus black #kid harry potter #toddler harry potter #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

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olomaya · 11 months

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Sludge Be Gone! Toddler Food and Snacks

2-Sep Update: Thank you @jeebeehey for the French translation. Please redownload if you'd like them.

25 July update:

Fixed an issue where the Trail Mix was resetting Sims. One of its components got lost when I was merging all the objects together so it kept giving an error when trying to pull it up. It should now not happen for either the high chair or the activity table. Redownload both the MAIN and the merged Objects file

24 July update: Thanks to @simdreams and @zanynka for the Brazilian Portuguese and Czech translations! You can redownload at the links below.

(Update: I forgot to include one of the files in the Objects file. It's just a little piece of food that toddlers pick up when eating snacks. If you downloaded both files already, you don't need to redownload anything, just download the file and add to your game.) (Just download the updated Objects file)

They literally call the baby food "sludge" in the game files. EA really did TS3 toddlers dirty.

This was actually originally part of my Quickie Food and Snacks mod and I abandoned it (this seems to be a theme with me). But then I came back to it after TS4 Growing Together came out. I still haven't played that game but I know there's a preference/taste system in the game for baby food, which is really cool!

So this mod adds two interactions to the high chair to feed toddlers meals or snacks. There are 11 meals and 5 snacks. Similar to Growing Together, toddlers will love, like or hate certain foods. This preference is based on their favorite food (see more after the cut).

The foods work somewhat similar to recipes in that they require ingredients to be available. However, you only need to have at least 1 ingredient. Whatever ingredients you have will be used for the meal/snack. The icon images will tell you which 3 ingredients are required.

Teens+ can serve toddlers and they will stay and watch to make sure the toddler eats like a good little girl/boy.

There was a second complementary mod to close out this little series that would allow toddlers to eat their foods and snacks on their own on little tables but I probably won't have the time to finish testing it before I go on my summer holidays so I'll release it sometime end of next month when I'm back.

Credit/thanks: The food tray and bowl is from @aroundthesims. All other assets are from EA (TS3 and TS4). Icons are from Freepik.

Download HERE / Alternative: SFS

Enjoy! I'll be totally offline starting 1 July for about 2 weeks so do let me know before then if you run into any issues!

More info and details on features after the cut

Meal/Snack recipes: Each meal or snack requires 1-3 ingredients (either in your fridge or personal inventory) to be available. Again, you only NEED 1 of 3. Some of the ingredients are from the Store or cc (Icemunmun's Baker's Basket or Hot Chili) but if you don't have it, the game will just ignore it. If you have none, it won't be available.

Food categories/preferences: Preferences are based on the toddler's favorite food and along 4 categories: Sweet, Savory, Veggie and Cheese. So based on what their favorite food is, you can tell what their food preference category is. If you change the toddler's favorite food after playing with the mod, it will adjust to their new tastes BUT will keep whatever food they liked or hated before.

Category Preferences:

Sweet hates Veggie

Veggie hates Sweet AND Savory

Savory hates Sweet

Cheese is chill and can give or take anything

Here is the detailed breakdown below (if you want to be surprised and figure it out for yourself in the game, you can stop reading here):

SW - Sweet, SV - Savory, VG - Veggie, CH - Cheese Store - TS3 Store BB - Icemunmun’s Baker’s Basket HC - Icemunmun’s Hot Chili

Snacks: Trail Mix (SW) - Banana, Walnut (BB), Pecan (Store) Cheese Crackers (CH) - Cheese Apple Slices w. Almond Butter (SW, CH) - Apple, Cheese, Almond (BB) Cucumber Tuna Bites (SV) - Cucumber (Store), Tuna, Tomato Pita Chips w. Carrot Hummus (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Lemon

Meals: Chickpea Salad (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Carrot, Watermelon PBJ Sandwich (SW) - Strawberry (Store), Almond (BB) Pancakes and Sausage (SW) - Any fruit, Sausage links Chicken Nuggets (SV) - Chicken, Carrot, Blueberry (Store) Fishsticks (SV) - Any fish, Potato, Carrot Meatballs w. Yogurt Sauce (SV) - Patty, Cucumber (Store), Tomato Mushroom Omelet (VG) - Egg, White Cap mushroom, Onion Fried Plantains (SW) - Banana (I considered making a custom plantain ingredient but too lazy), Tomato, Onion Falafel w. Yogurt Sauce (VG) - Chickpea (HC), Cucumber (Store), Tomato Cheese Ravioli (CH) - Cheese, Tomato, Strawberry (Store) Mac and Cheese (CH) - Cheese

So for example, the toddler in the photos, Duncan. His favorite food is Fried Peanut Butter Banana Sandwich (oh, America) which is in the Sweet category. So I know he will eat any of the sweet category foods. He tossed the mushroom omelet when I served it to him but he likes mac and cheese.

@kpccfinds @pis3update @s3cc-finds

#download #s3cc #s3cc download #sims 3 cc #toddlerfoodnsnacks

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submariini · 8 months

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When Finland’s Käärijä took the stage at this year’s Eurovision, a star was instantly, explosively born. With an outrageous energy, infectious presence and that oh-so-catchy hook, the Vantaa-based rapper may not have won the contest but he certainly snatched the hearts of those in his home country and beyond. We ask Käärijä the million dollar question: what next?

[full article under the cut]

Last May, a peculiar frenzy engulfed Finland. Virtually all green foods – cucumbers, especially – were sold out from stores. Buildings across the land were bathed in vivid green lights. Social media brimmed with green-themed parties, while data obtained by Swedish fintech company Klarna showed a 570 per cent increase in the online sales of neon green shirts.

This phenomenon was all thanks to Käärijä, the rapper who represented Finland in the 2023 Eurovision Song Contest. His now-infamous, blazing green puff sleeve bolero – dreamt up by Finnish broadcasting company Yle’s costume design team and which he dons when performing the smash hit track ‘Cha Cha Cha’ – had taken on a life of its own, the lush hue uniting the entire nation amid the competition. “It was incredible to see it happen and so cool being part of it,” Käärijä says. “It wasn’t planned at all – it was the people who created the commotion. I’ll definitely never forget it.”

When we speak over Zoom, Käärijä, whose real name is Jere Pöyhönen, is lounging in his minimal apartment in Vantaa, a city just outside Helsinki. He appears on my screen shirtless, a chunky gold chain dangling on his neck. On his head sits a pastel turquoise cap adorned with little cat ears. As he gestures with his hands, I spot flashes of poison green nail varnish. Pöyhönen’s chosen attire, or lack thereof, is extremely fitting – he typically performs bare-chested (“It gets so hot during my gigs”) and his Instagram handle is @paidatonriehuja, or ‘shirtless rascal’.

Hot off a performance in western Finland, the 29-year-old is enjoying his first days off in a while. It’s been a sweltering summer of non-stop touring, with fans flocking to festivals and concerts nationwide to see his explosive live show. Things are not winding down either, with Käärijä heading off on his first-ever European tour this month. Some of these shows sold out in mere minutes, an indication of his immense international following. “It’s so exciting; I’m definitely jumping into a new territory with that tour,” Pöyhönen says. “But I don’t have any expectations – I’m just going to let everything happen organically rather than stressing about it.”

Although he created one of this year’s buzziest songs, the guy on my screen is humble and, save for his look, almost un assuming. I remark on the stark contrast to his fiery and flamboyant stage presence. “Through Käärijä, I get to channel all the craziness, quirkiness and hyperactivity I’ve had since I was a child,” Pöyhönen says, describing himself offstage as “just this ordinary dude”. Without delving into further details, he tells me that the name Käärijä (translating roughly to moneymaker) stems from a history with gambling. Despite the darkness of its origin, he notes that the moniker is to be taken with a grain of salt.

While it might seem like Käärijä exploded into the public consciousness from obscurity, Pöyhönen has a long journey in music behind him. Born in Helsinki but having spent most of his youth in Vantaa, he started dabbling in the medium at just three years old. Coming from a musical family (“My dad and big brother both play the guitar”), jamming sessions were commonplace in the Pöyhönen household, his instrument of choice being the drums. “I was playing with pots and spoons before I got a set of those plastic kids’ drums,” he says. “When we moved to a bigger house, we built a band room downstairs where me and my brother spent a lot of time practising.”

At that time, rap music hadn’t yet entered Pöyhönen’s life; he was strictly a self-described “metal guy”. His older brother had instilled in him a love for the genre, particularly metal icons Rammstein. Upon starting high school, his musical taste broadened and he began listening to Eminem and popular Finnish rap groups Fintelligens and JVG. “Me and my friends were filming our own music videos to old rap songs, learning the words by heart,” Pöyhönen says. “It [making rap music] pretty much started as this humour thing I did with my mates.”

Encouraged by his loved ones, Pöyhönen began writing his own songs, still playing it for laughs. Turned out he had a knack for it. “Since I was little, I’ve been an avid storyteller – my imagination ran a little wilder than the rest of the kids’ at my school,” he says. “So when I started making music, I didn’t even need inspiration; I was able to whip up the lyrics from my head.”

But then, at 15, an unexpected turning point came by way of a severe sudden illness. Rushed to the hospital with ulcerative colitis, a chronic inflammatory bowel disease, Pöyhönen underwent emergency surgery to remove his colon. Had he not been treated immediately, the complications could have been fatal. “I was writing songs in the hospital – music became a source of strength for me,” he says. “I decided that if I make it through this, I’m going to give my all to music and be serious about it.”

After over a decade of hard work and countless hours in the studio, Käärijä released his first album, Fantastista (Fantastic), in 2020, but it would take three years for him to become a household name in Finland. After snapping up the top prize in Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu (the Finnish contest for new music) with his party anthem ‘Cha Cha Cha’, a song dedicated to a hedonistic night out fusing rap, electronic music and metal, he secured the coveted spot as his country’s entrant for the 2023 Eurovision, held in Liverpool. One of Pöyhönen’s craziest dreams had come true.

For Pöyhönen, Eurovision was “an amazing but immensely tough experience”. The event’s intense schedule and the little time carved out for practising surprised the artist. There was no room for errors or retakes once it was time for rehearsals. “They didn’t give much mercy,” he says. On the bright side, the long days filled with “lots of press conferences and waiting around” gave Pöyhönen a chance to get to know the other artists. “The group we had there was wonderful – there wasn’t a competitive atmosphere at all,” he says. One of the contestants he became especially close with was Sweden’s Loreen, with whom he exchanged numbers and promised to “meet up and talk about everything else but music”.

By the time the grand finale came, Käärijä’s explosive performance and infectious song had made him one of the favourites to win. Ultimately he came second, while Loreen nabbed first place. How did Pöyhönen handle the letdown? “It was a huge disappointment, but in the end, the feeling didn’t last long,” he says. “When I thought about how far I’d gotten, the incredible journey it was and all the new friends I made, I realised that these things are far more meaningful than winning.” Plus, he still achieved something major: ‘Cha Cha Cha’ made history as the first ever Finnish song to reach Spotify’s global most-listened charts. The track’s reach proved to Pöyhönen that language doesn’t matter; it’s all about creating a singular, infectious sound: “The mouth is just as much of an instrument as the piano or the guitar is,” he says.

Having made history, I ask Pöyhönen if he felt any pressure after the Eurovision bubble had burst. “Of course there are the thoughts of ‘what now?’ and ‘is this going to be it, will anyone be interested anymore next year?’ – I’m aware that the hype won’t last forever,” he says. “But I’m onto creating the next thing, trying not to feel any pressure for future releases. I haven’t done that before, so why would I do that now?”

Pöyhönen hints at a new album dropping sometime next year, but in the meantime, he’s enjoying the attention – including his Vogue Scandinavia debut. Shot at the extraordinary home of the late interior architect Antti Nurmesniemi and his wife, textile artist Vuokko Nurmesniemi, we find the space where Pöyhönen and Käärijä meet, the quiet confidence mingling with that more-is-more persona.

And while Käärijä might develop as a character (“I want to show that he’s more than just a bolero chap”), he’s adamant that he will stay true to his music and keep singing in Finnish, despite the sudden international attention. “In the end, I’m doing this for myself,” he says. “Also, why change something that works?”

Photographer: Karoliina Bärlund Stylist: Sanna Silander Talent: Käärijä Hair Stylist and Makeup Artist: Neea Kuurne Photographer Assistant: Milja Laakso Stylist Assistant: Nelli Korhonen

#käärijä #jere pöyhönen #eurovision #the article in full

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heaven-s-black-box · 22 days

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Notes- GOM x Fem!Reader in a bikini

Return to File

Recovery date: May 10th, 2024

Description: hiii!! hope your having a good day, I was wondering if I could request GoM x reader (separately) with a maybe more quiet and shy reader when they go to the beach and see her in a bikini (maybe a bit suggestiveee but it’s up to you!) they can get a bit flustered and protective 😭 thank you so much and dw if you don’t/can’t complete it <3,

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with @smtere we thank them for their contributions. Hope you don't mind the headcanons, it was the easiest for so many people. This is meant to be post last game, probably summer of their 3rd year.

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Akashi

Is the most outwardly chill about it

Though he does find his gaze drifting and lingering (Aomine got halfway through calling him out once before eating sand)

The first time he justifies it as admiring your swimsuit, every other time is just a whoopsie

He’s not weird about it though, and he tries his best not to stare

Makes sure you put on sunscreen/ cover up if he thinks you need it

Will complement how it looks on you

I did say “most outwardly chill” and I meant it

He may seem cool as a cucumber but if you hug him he will short circuit

He doesn’t get much affection on a normal day and while he is much more mature than his friends, I refuse to believe this boy is not fighting off indecent thoughts every so often

Build a sand castle with him please

Midorima

Flustered and can’t hide it

Dude is pink, and not from the sun

His gaze also drifts and lingers but he won’t even give himself a chance to admire you

You cannot convince me Takao has not corrupted him, at least a bit, he can’t look at you without hear Takao teasing him

Like Akashi he looks out for you if you’re prone to sunburn

Midorima isn’t weird about you wearing a bikini, he just makes it weird by actively avoiding looking anywhere but your face

He definitely relaxes throughout the day though

By the time you’re leaving he compliments you, having finally looked somewhere other than your face

He’s fine with whatever you want to do, might even begrudgingly let you bury him

Kise

The most chill, he has sisters so bikinis aren’t something overly suggestive to him

That said it’s you so it does make him a bit flustered

He is also the most obviously protective because as a model he’s very familiar with… lingering gazes, there will always be weirdos

Keeps a shirt on while on the beach, claiming he can’t afford to burn, but it's actually incase you want it for whatever reason

He definitely enjoys the extra contact though, whether that be an arm around your waist or offering to carry you on his back, Kise strikes me as a touchy person

If your swimsuit starts to come loose he’ll offer to fix it for you

Showers you in complements

Wants to collect shells and swim

Murasakibara

Could not give two shits

Kise was chill, Murisakibara just doesn’t care

He compliments the swim suit, and he definitely stares a bit but when he gets caught he apologizes and looks away

Won’t initiate physical contact but doesn’t mind it, feeling your skin brush against his when you hugged him did make him jump a bit though

I don’t really have much to say here because I really don’t think he’d care

Although he will confront anyone making you uncomfortable, his stature is more than enough to make most people back down

Wants to spend the day lounging on the beach, you might be able to convince him to come float with you

Aomine

If it was anyone but Aomine it would be weird

Shamelessly stares

You can call him out on it but he’ll just make a sound of acknowledgement and keep staring, unless you tell him he’s making you uncomfortable

He may be forward and unashamed but he’s not a complete ass

If someone else is making you uncomfortable or just keeps staring he will fight them, though he tries to avoid that

Asked Momoi for one of her towel jackets for you incase you wanted it, he almost regretted it when she started teasing him for being a softy

He compliments you, but it’s stuff like “your boobs look nice”

Will imply he’d like to see you “show off” more often

Also fairly touchy, like Kise, and will offer to help fix your swimsuit if needed

He will also throw you into the water, there is no escaping

Kuroko

Like Akashi he’s outwardly cool and inwardly panicking just a bit

He will try and fight anyone making you uncomfortable but Aomine and the others have to save him

Like Akashi and Midorima will keep an eye out if you’re prone to sunburn

Any physical contact you make with him will spook him just a bit

He’s close with Momoi, and we know she wears bikinis so I think like with Kise they aren’t anything suggestive to him

I don’t have much to say here either because Kuroko doesn’t really wear his heart on his sleeve, though he will linger a bit closer to you throughout the day

Complements your swimsuit

Prefers to spend the day reading on the beach

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repentarium · 10 months

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a waste of paint

read on ao3

“Just do your middle finger, Stevie, it’ll be, like, punk rock.”

“Right, because he is a beacon to anarchists all over the state of Indiana.” Max rolls her eyes, but Eddie is already tossing a tiny bottle to Steve. He tosses it back without looking at it.

“You’re being a real spoilsport.” Eddie tsks at him and walks on his knees to sit at Steve’s feet. After a brief tug of war, he’s got Steve’s left hand secured and is using his teeth to unscrew the top of the bottle.

“Waste of paint, man. I’m just gonna scrub it off.”

Eddie frowns at him smally, a tug down at the corners like he’s Thinking, like maybe he’s gonna shuffle back over to the girls, and Steve changes his mind with a sigh and shoves his hand closer to Eddie.

El and Max are still over near the coffee table. Max is painting something rich and blue onto El’s fingertips and they’re chatting casually. Steve thinks it’s important they have this, something a little normal. El’s hair has grown out some since spring break, enough that she’s clipped a piece of bright plastic into it to keep it from falling across her face. She gets these headaches sometimes, and Max has glasses to help with her vision and a walking cast still on her left leg, but they’re here and they’re okay and they’re painting their nails.

By the time he looks back down at Eddie, he’s finished a layer of golden yellow paint and his lips are pursed to blow gently across it. He looks up at him through his lashes and catches Steve looking back and smiles, and every part of Steve’s body is like electric-shock levels of tense.

And look, that’s normal , at least lately, at least for Steve. Normal to have to pull your eyes away from your pal, then look back as he starts painting again, the tip of his tongue poking at the corner of his lips just so in concentration.

All on the up and up, very above the board and even boring, maybe. A normal bodily reaction. Not a big deal. Cool as a cucumber.

He’s talked to Robin about it - well, he’s talked around it in Robin’s general direction, he hasn’t jumped off the diving board per se, which is fine because there’s nothing weird here. Anyway, he told Robin that he thought Eddie was really cool is what happened if you want to know the exact details, and Robin said ‘Yeah, I think so too!’. So that was like proof that it was normal, you know. Everyone thought Eddie was cool.

Steve is a liar. He is lying to himself. He does that sometimes, and he’s trying to get better about it, but it’s easier to not understand something than to dig into all the messy feelings. So the nail polish? He could have removed it, he maybe should have, but it’s like a physical something-or-other, and looking at it, or catching it on accident from the corner of his eye, gives him that same electric jolt he gets when he catches Eddie looking at him from across the room, or when he realizes the bell over the Family Video door ringing is actually heralding his loitering presence.

Anyway, he’s a liar, mostly to himself, mostly for convenience, but this whole nail polish thing is wrecking it, it’s making it harder and harder to lie about it, even in the comfort of his own thoughts.

He went on a few dates with Marie Thomas the summer before sophomore year, and she was like a vampire. She’d latch onto his throat and chew and it wasn’t like he wasn’t into it, but the real secret thrill was that he’d then catch the little bruises she left on his neck when he passed by the mirror. He hadn’t really thought he should cover it up, didn’t get why it was weird or whatever until Carol noticed on a Monday and started calling him a slut. He’d just liked that it was a physical and visual reminder that he had felt something, that he’d had a connection with another person. He liked pressing his thumb against a bruise and feeling the little bit of pain and he liked the way the purple bled out past the collar of his shirt as it healed. He and Marie didn’t last much into the school year, but he thought about the bruises sometimes.

So looking at the yellow of the polish on his finger for the next few days and feeling that same thrill, like some kind of weird neon sign that flashed and told him ‘Eddie was kneeling at your feet the other day, remember? He was looking up with big eyes through his bangs and blowing gently on your finger and he was real and it happened’ as if some sort of hot and heavy backseat-at-the-drive-in action happened when it was truly something boring in a room full of people in his mom’s living room?

It’s almost the same thing, really, and that feeling makes it harder to lie .

By the time the golden-sunshine-yellow paint is chipping off the tip of his finger, he’s spiraling into a real conundrum of truths. It’s a Wednesday, and he is late to pick up Robin for work because he honestly truthfully spent ten minutes looking at the fresh chip in his paint. He’d been wondering if that was Eddie’s little bottle, if he’d had yellow fingertips like this before, or if this was from the girls’ collection. He’d been wondering if, if he went to the trailer park, Eddie would give him a touch up. If he’d sit at his knees while he did, or if they’d sit across from each other on his bed at the new government trailer, legs crossed and hands held like highschool girls holding a seance.

It took the phone ringing to shake him out of it, Robin yelling at him for not being there yet.

So it was toeing into his shoes, snatching his keys off the counter, and speeding to Robin’s and then to open the store. Busy with his body but his brain still whirring around with honest-to-god honesty. He liked Eddie, sure, but he also likes Eddie, the way he’d liked Marie Thomas or Nancy Wheeler or any of the girls he’d gotten handsy with. Pants feelings.

And, maybe scarier, heart feelings. His terrible idiot of a heart whispers to him about how brave Eddie actually was and how kind he actually was and how good he actually was, how he treated the kids and how he nearly died to save the town that hated him and how he’d carefully held his hand and taken the time to do two coats of paint and to blow across the tip so that the sunny color looked Just Right and smooth even though Steve had (out of his mind, maybe) said he’d just wash it off. Like he’d been painting something special, maybe one of the tiny creatures for his game, instead of an ungrateful little jerk of a guy.

It all has him itchy, tapping one hand on the counter and staring at the other, the truthy yellow of it all, while Robin complains about the shitty movie she’d chosen to throw on the tv. He knows that she knows that he’s in his head about something, they basically share the same head, and he’s grateful she’s keeping it light and surface level so he can dwell and hiccup over all the sticky stuff.

The bell over the door rings, and Steve’s head snaps up (with hope, he recognizes the fluttery little wings of it and it’s like a carrier pigeon with a notarized message, the contents inside enough to make him gulp) and of course it’s Eddie, he’s always around, especially on Wednesdays when the store is at its emptiest. Steve swallows again when he sees him, forces out a ‘Hey, man!’ and holds his hands steady on the counter, palms to the glass.

Eddie looks good, of course he does, eyes and teeth bright and sparkling and his hair backlit by the late morning light so it’s like a halo. He’s fizzy with energy, like he always is, and he comes up to lean against the counter directly across from Steve. Close, like always. In Steve’s personal space, like always .

“Hey yourself, man .” Eddie smiles at him and raps his knuckles against the glass.

“Thank GOD you’re here, Munson, my brain is leaking out of my ears and Steve has been brooding and just so boring all morning.”

“Unfortunately, my dear Buckley, I’m on a mission today. I’ve gotta go out of town to get something for Wayne’s truck, so I can’t stay. Just wanted to check in with my adoring masses, a tough tour, you know how it is.” He raps again, and Steve’s eyes fall to their hands, Eddie’s rings clacking together and Steve’s sweaty palms pressed into the glass just an inch or so away. “Broody, huh? Run out of your fancy-boy hair gel?”

Eddie frowns with pomp and drama and tucks his head down to make Steve look into his eyes, and he’s looking through his lashes again, just like when he was painting his nails. It makes him clear his throat, and clear it again, and think about Marie’s bruise on his neck, wonder if Eddie would bruise him like that, if he would rather Steve mark him up, and then he’s looking at the long line of his neck and the way it slides into the curve of his shoulder before it disappears into the stretched-out collar of his once-black shirt. He clears his throat again , and then, as if Eddie can read his mind (God no, please), he looks down at Steve’s hand and taps at the nail polish.

“You need a touch-up, Stevie, that yellow is just falling apart. It’s called Sun Day, you know, that color. Two words: Sun Day.”

Steve hums at him and looks back at his hands again. Feels the ghost of the little tap he’d touched against his nail.

“ Anyway , my friends and fellow freaks, I am a little overdue on this old thing.” He struggles into some hidden pocket under the flannel tied around his waist, turning his shoulders enough that Steve feels like whatever spell he’d cast is maybe broken and he can breathe again.

He presses the plastic case onto the counter with what Steve just knows he thinks is his most winningest grin, but it only works because it’s created this silly stretched-out grimace that Steve finds charming, okay, it’s silly and it’s charming.

“Fine! Okay, fine, you got it, what fees?” Steve shakes his head at him, one hand finally lifting from the counter to run through his hair and the other finding home on his own hip. He hopes there isn’t some sort of sweaty mark on the counter but he can’t look to check without showing his cards.

“My everlasting thanks, sweet Stevie.” Eddie bows low and backs up a few steps, turns around as Robin says goodbye, taps the top of the door frame as he leaves and shoots a wink over his shoulder back at Steve. Steve stares too long, raises his hand in a wave after Eddie is already out of sight.

Robin is snapping up Eddie’s returned VHS to rewind it; you’d think with his friends cutting him so much slack with the rentals he’d be-kind-rewind them at least, but he never does, and the worst part is that Steve doesn’t even care. He’s fully complained to many a customer with his arms crossed pissily about rewinding their spoils, but for some reason Eddie’s disregard is just another Cool Thing about his Cool Guy Persona.

Something about that’s the final straw. When it crosses his mind, he crosses to the front of the store and flips the closed sign, locks the door, and turns off the display lights. By the time he’s turned around again, hands in his hair and his heart pounding in his throat, Robin is looking at him with an eyebrow raised. She doesn’t seem panicked, but Steve is starting to feel panicked, so he comes around the counter to lean next to Robin and then slides down to sit on the floor. It feels right. It feels even more right when Robin slides down the wall across from him and kicks her scuffed up Converse against his sneaker.

She’s quiet and watching him with big eyes. It’s uncanny.

He has a few false starts, big breaths and an open mouth before reeling in whatever he was going to say and snapping his jaw closed again.

Finally, after minutes of Robin just Looking and Steve floundering and feeling warm, he looks at his painted nail for courage and just spits it out.

“I like Eddie. Like I think I want to kiss him and hear about his day and touch his butt and stuff.”

“God,” says Robin, “of course you do. Have you seen the two of you dancing around each other? It’s like you pinball from middle school crush to old married couple and back again.”

Steve sputters. “You knew ? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Like that wouldn’t have totally freaked you out. You had to figure it out in your own time.” Steve would bet she thinks she looks wise, but to him she just looks constipated.

“Well so. So what do I do? What now?” He’s chewing on the skin of his thumb, not the one who is neighbors with the Sun Day, he’s got enough presence of mind for that .

“What do you mean?”

Steve sighs in frustration and then his hands are tugging at his hair again, elbows balanced on his knees. “Is he even. Does he. What if he doesn’t like me back? What if he does ?”

“Breathe, Steve. He definitely likes you, he just thinks you’re straight ‘cause of, you know.” She gestures vaguely at him.

“So did I.”

“Yeah, uh. Are you, like, freaking out?”

“I… don’t know. It snuck up on me. I just. He painted my fingernail.” Steve flips Robin off to show off the sad and chipped polish.

“Yeah you showed me. Multiple times.” She has a pretty unimpressed expression on her face for someone who is supposed to be helping him. “ That’s what made you realize you liked his dork ass?”

“I mean, it was a series of things, I guess. I don’t know.” He’s looking at his silly fingernail again. “He’s really good. Like better than anyone maybe.”

Robin is gawking at him. “That’s not how you talk about girls, Steve. You haven’t mentioned his boobies like, at all.”

Steve groans and slides sideways to lay on the floor, sprawled out and looking at the cobwebs fighting to cover the overhead lights. Gross.

“I’m sure his boobies are lovely, Robs, I just… wanna spend time with him, and listen to his weird stories and his weird music and look at his eyes when he talks about all the things he likes. And. Maybe he’ll like me like that too, you know? Like maybe he’ll feel the same way one day and I’ll be able to look at him and just know .”

“Ew, you suck, Steve.” But her face when he looks is soft and caring.

“Should I like. Talk to him? No. I don’t even know if he’s. You know.”

“You won’t know for sure until you talk to him, but I wouldn’t encourage you to talk to him if I didn’t think he was safe. And also like completely obsessed with you. But even if he wasn’t! He’s a good guy and he’s a good friend, you know. He’s not gonna be weird about it.”

“Hmm.”

Robin puts a hand on his knee and shakes it side to side. “Look at us ! You basically said you loved me and I’m still here, and we’re even closer than ever.”

Steve frowns at her, but he knows she’s right. Eddie’s a good guy, that’s the whole point.

“I guess I’m gonna talk to him.” Even saying it out loud to Robin like this makes him nauseous, makes his pulse pound, but she smiles at him in encouragement.

“Yes! A great idea. You can turn on the old Harrington Charm, maybe-”

A pounding at the closed door and a muffled voice interrupts her. They both scramble to their feet, and Steve sees old Mrs. Burke pressing her face to the door, talking through the glass and shielding her eyes from the glare.

“Coming!” Robin yells and darts to the door, lets her in and flips everything to open again.

“You’re supposed to be open!” Mrs. Burke gripes.

Steve mutters a ‘yeah, yeah’ and lets Robin take over. He’s usually fed to the Mad Old Lady Wolves but Robin loves him and lets him go sit in the breakroom for five minutes while she helps her find whatever romantic comedy she needs so badly.

That means he gets to sit on the ratty old sofa and stare at the walls and wring his hands because it sure doesn’t feel like it’s as easy as flipping on some sort of charm switch. He’s got indigestion thinking about it, actually.

And okay, the whole ‘King Steve “the Hair” Harrington, Master of Charm and Suavity’ was… a little bit of a farce, actually. It worked for him, but from an outside perspective, especially lately? Let’s just say it’s a little lackluster. Nancy told him one time, giggling in a way that didn’t hurt his feelings, that the reason he was charming was because he wasn’t charming, just sincere. That was after he successfully(?) charmed her with shotgunning the beer by the pool and before the big breakup, so that means something, right?

When the bell over the door rings again (Steve’s ears are trained to recognize it) he gets to barge out into the main room and say “Robin, do you really think I’m charming or are you joking?”

Luckily there’s no one in the store again, and he just finds Robin between the aisles pausing her restock to look at him with wide eyes.

“I’m being serious, I’m having a crisis.” he continues when she doesn’t immediately respond.

“Steve, buddy, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You’re a total dweeb.” It’s delivered with the gravitas of a doctor giving a horrible diagnosis, and it feels that way to Steve. “But!” she continues quickly when his face definitely flashes with the fall and the crash, “I have incredible news for you! I personally mean that as a term of endearment and, maybe even better, everyone you know is a dweeb, and ? Best of all? One Eddie Munson is maybe the biggest dweeb that’s ever existed”

Steve is still frowning. It’s kind of a lot to absorb, that the common perception of yourself is so… unsmooth.

“You’re very sweet, Steve, and everyone likes you. Well, mostly.” Robin stiffly pats his shoulder.

“Should I like, buy a leather jacket or something?”

“Steve it’s June. Also I don’t think you need to pull a Sandy Dee. Actually, please don’t. Just, you’ve got your whole… thing… and it’s maybe a little uptight? But it’s your thing ! You don’t wanna change for a person, you know, you’d tell me the same thing.”

“I want him to like me. Suddenly. Very badly.”

“That’s the nature of a crush, Steve-o. It’s evil.”

“I need to go lay down for a few days. Maybe this’ll blow over, like…” he thinks and snaps his fingers, “temporary insanity.”

“Oh, honey. It’s been a while I guess, what with the world always ending, but I don’t know if you can sleep this kinda thing off. You probably have to talk to him.”

He stands and stares and thinks while Robin putters around doing menial movie store tasks around him. It’s hard work, standing and staring and thinking, especially when he’s interrupted to take care of customers, so really it takes him the rest of the afternoon and all the way up through quitting time.

It’s like he blinks and he’s pulling into his driveway, no memory of dropping Robin off. He shakes himself and turns the engine off, stumbles up his steps and through the front doors with legs that feel asleep and a brain that’s still all fogged up.

It’s not even an Eddie is a boy and this makes him Different kind of freak out; that’s not it at all, he’s somehow leapt straight past that like hurdles in track and is standing facing a brick wall of but he’s Good and maybe you Don’t Deserve This .

Steve knows he’s a lot, see, and he falls hard and fast, and Eddie is fun and light and not weighed down with all the guilt and anxiety and bullshit Steve’s dealing with; Eddie has his band and his game and his friends and he’s going to community college and working part time at a garage in town and figuring his shit out. Steve is working at Family Video (still), floundering his 20s away with no hopes or dreams or friends older than teens, and he also almost got a significant percentage of them, including Eddie , killed. Very recently, actually.

Like Eddie is a glowing light and Steve is a cold dark box that puts lights out. Like he’s become his shitty, empty house.

He’s still standing in his dark entryway, breath kicking up into something that’s sure to be a real doozy of a panic attack, when there’s a firm and rhythmic knock at the front door. He eyes the bat leaning against the wall (in case of emergencies), then flicks on the lights and opens the doors to find Eddie standing there, arms weighed down with bags and a hand raised to knock again.

“Hey Stevie!”

“H-hey? Hey, Eddie! What’s, um. What’s going on?” He tries to channel coolness, suavity, leans against the wall next to the open door and doesn’t almost fall.

Eddie pushes past Steve without being invited in, typical behavior, and slides his wares onto the counter in the kitchen.

“I brought us a feast.”

“A feast?” Steve’s stomach grumbles, reminds him he skipped breakfast and lunch, only split marked-out snacks with Robin all day. “What’s the occasion?”

“Kinda you are.” Eddie is unloading takeout containers from what smells like some Italian place.

“I’m… confused.”

“Your birthday!”

“It’s definitely not my birthday, Eddie.”

“No, but we’re celebrating it today because I don’t know when it is.”

“That doesn’t make, like, any sense, man, my birthday was in April.”

“No, that’s perfect! I was probably recovering from the whole near-death then, so. Birthday.” He grins cheesily at him and Steve feels like all of his insides are scrambling to leave his body via a new pathway up his throat. “I hope you like pasta!”

“I love pasta.” Steve manages to mumble, and his feet move him towards Eddie on their own, his eyes snoop on their own, his hands pull out a stool on their own. It’s like he’s haunting his own body. Eddie is mumbling song lyrics and pulling out plates and dishing out pasta and salad like he belongs in his kitchen, like he’s more at home there than Steve has pretty much ever felt, and that combined with his day of Thinking and the snare of the stupid yellow polish on his nail that has him still feeling breathless when he says, watery and all in a jumble: “Eddie I think I really like you. Please don’t make fun of me.”

He feels the panic on his own face as he just pauses. He didn’t mean to just say that, and now Eddie’s stopped, still as hell and facing away from him, carton of breadsticks lowered to the counter. He tries to school his face (cool, suave) as Eddie slowly, so slowly, turns around and leans against the edge of the counter, as he crosses his arms in front of him, but he just knows he looks like he’s seen a ghost or like he’s on fire because he still kinda feels that way.

“You okay Stevie? You look a little. Well, you look a little freaked out.”

“I just, ah. I just mean.” He sinks fully into the stool, grateful it has a back to catch him because otherwise he’d end up on the floor for sure. His knees are basically on strike. He’s so warm. He keeps clearing his throat.

Eddie is still looking at him with worry making the line between his brows creep below his bangs. He turns again to run some water into a glass and slide it across the island to Steve, who grabs it and makes himself sip mostly for something to do with his hands. But now Eddie is leaning across the whole island, pushed up onto his toes for sure, pushing into Steve’s space just enough that he knows he’s blushing. It makes him feel ridiculous because this is just Eddie, his friend, one of his best friends. Eddie who, god bless him, has never had a firm grasp on personal space and it’s never really been an issue before right exactly now.

Steve’s talking into the glass and avoiding Eddie’s eyes when he says, “I mean. It’s. I don’t think. I just. You don’t have to say anything. I’m, like, working through something.”

“Hmm. Did you mean it, Steve?”

Steve gulps again. “Yeah. Yeah, I did, I mean. I do. Like you. Like more than a normal amount. And it’s okay if you don’t, and I’m sorry if that’s not…”

“Stevie, breathe.”

Steve can hear the chuckle in his voice and it finally makes him look up, which was a terrible idea, actually, because now he’s stuck again, caught on looking into Eddie’s stupid beautiful eyes as he laughs at him. “Please don’t laugh at me. This is. A lot.” Steve feels small and tiny and miniscule and he wants to go hide under the covers like when he was a kid and his parents were yelling.

“Sweetheart. I am not laughing at you.” Eddie’s voice is firm through the grin that’s still there, and he reaches out slowly like Steve is a startled horse and lightly - lightly - touches the side of his face. It’s like walking through a spider web in the park if the spider web was cotton candy instead. “Oh my god. Steve Harrington, you’re such a dweeb.”

“That’s what they say.”

Slowly, to keep from startling him any more, he’s sure, Eddie leans further across the island, hand still on Steve’s face, and presses a gentle, feather-soft kiss against his lips. It’s nothing, really, not even close to the kinds of kisses that led to hands or bruises, but it’s like fireworks catching on all his nerves and he can feel all his hair stand up. It’s like superpowers and swimming and drowning, and he knows a little about all that.

Before he can get his brain on the same channel, Eddie is pulling away with a soft pat to Steve’s cheek. Steve makes a very sad noise at the back of his throat and he knows he’s pouting but Eddie has turned away already, is humming again and grabbing plates and saying “Let’s eat some pasta, babe. I’m starving.”

He watches as Eddie grabs plates, balances a box of breadsticks on an arm, asks him to grab the Cokes. Steve grabs the bottles on autopilot, cracks the caps open on the counter the way his mother would kill him for, and follows Eddie into the living room where he’s seated on the sofa, plate in his lap and pasta in his mouth.

He’s got a numb almost-feeling as he clinks a Coke down in front of Eddie and takes his plate, sits stiffly. His brain is sloshing around as he eats his spaghetti.

“How are you normal?”

Eddie raises his eyebrows over his Coke bottle. “No one has ever asked me that before.”

“I just mean. I guess I don’t know what to think. Usually people say something when you say you, well. Say you have feelings for them. Or…”

Eddie puts all his things down on the coffee table, no coasters, and curls his legs up onto the couch.

“Stevie, I’m sittin’ right here with you. You don’t have to say or do anything, you know? I’m here, and I’m not goin’ anywhere. We can eat dinner, we can talk about it.” He shrugs a shoulder, totally not bothered.

They’re words, just words, and they shouldn’t strike him so hard, but his face feels warm and he still feels like his brain is spinning around, like he’s at sea. Eddie frowns at him. He seems to see how lost he is suddenly because in the next breath he’s taking everything away from Steve to put it next to his own stuff. He grabs his hands and tells him to breathe. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“You are freaking out. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m fine, I’m just.”

“It’s okay not to be fine. I think you’ve given this all a little more thought than I thought.”

“I’m serious, I was serious. I even told Robin. I think I, well, I know… I like you a lot. Like in a way I don’t usually like guys.”

“Oh. Wow.” Eddie is looking at him, and now he looks like he’s seen a ghost. Hands gripped, seance-style. “Okay, I’m not gonna lie, Stevie, I kinda thought you were just trying to say I was your… pal.”

“So you kissed me on the lips.”

“Pals kiss! And okay, cards on the table I guess, I know I feel a certain way about you , that’s not news to me. I wanted to do that for years, since even before you saved my life. I just don’t exactly expect any kind of… reciprocity.”

“Like?”

“Like you’re not gonna look at me and see me the way I see you .” By the end of the sentence his voice has fallen to a whisper.

And, well. Now Eddie is looking away and blushing and Steve feels a little more balanced, feels like this is something he can participate in. Not so much confidence, but familiarity, a comfortable sweater. “It depends how you see me, I guess, but I’m a little obsessed with you.”

Eddie lets out a loud laugh in surprise and tries to pull his hands back but Steve flips them around so he’s grabbing Eddie’s hands and keeping them safe. It’s like holding small birds.

“No, stop. I mean it.” He’s picking up steam, pulling out the things he was turning over in his head all day. He mirrors Eddie, knees touching knees. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Robin’s tired of hearing about it. Being around you is easy, you make things easy, like it gets quiet even though you’re loud as hell.”

“Shut up, man.”

“I won’t.”

“You’re not like, joking with me right? Because that happened sometimes in the hallowed halls of Hawkins High and gotta tell ya, not a fan. I’m not a good fighter and I like you too much to wanna hit you but I would be very sad , and-”

“Eddie, it’s not a joke.”

“-like, I just wanted to bring you dinner because it looked like you were having a bad day and we all know how that goes, and this is all feeling very weird actually-”

“You were so cool a minute ago, it made me think I was losing it-”

“-maybe I got into a horrible car accident and died and this is like the last firing of my synapses or whatever.”

“-but this is actually more of an Eddie response. Is this okay?” Steve is ecstatic, actually, this is going so well, way better than he thought, and he can feel the smile on his face as he reels Eddie in closer to him, as he plans to redo that kiss in the kitchen.

“God, yes.” Eddie laughs, and then he shuts up as Steve presses his lips against his.

And okay, it’s more teeth than it should be, what with all the smiling, and it’s a little garlicky from the pasta, but it’s Good in the way that all first kisses are but it’s Better because it’s with Eddie.

By the time they get back to their pasta it’s cold but they’re still smiling and the little worried line between Eddie’s brows is gone completely.

They’re laughing as they eat, and they’re laughing as they clean up, and they’re laughing as Steve stops Eddie at the door to pull him into another kiss, and it’s easy .

When he goes to bed that night, he runs his thumb over the chipped yellow polish in the dark and he thinks wow, Robin was right , and he thinks oh no, Robin is going to be so annoying , but he falls asleep with a smile anyway. He has incredible dreams for a change, dreams where everything is all Sun Day Golden Yellow and cotton-candy-sweet and he has this dork of a guy next to him holding his hand.

It’s all pretty punk rock.

-----

i have been on several work trips and am in the process of moving so i have been s l a c k i n g, esp here and on my longer fics, but i haven't abandoned them! This is an older short lil story i edited and posted when i couldn't sleep

xoxo

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #mine

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