This is going to be HUGE so for simplicity I will not add big summaries or CW/TW but please check the tags on the fanfic before reading! Also all are completed unless I state otherwise.
I'll keep updating this, there's still a lot more to add :) 01/16/2023
We'll Have Dancing, Meanwhile by whatdoyoudesire :. or accomplished tourney knight, Eddie Munson meets the breathtaking King Steven of Loch Nora at the festival for his twentieth name day
One need not be a House by OhlioOh :. Or: The one where Steve Harrington is a ghost, and Eddie is a paranormal investigator. (THIS IS BEAUTIFUL, NOT COMPLETE THO)
We'll Know for the First Time by KikiZ :. OR: Eddie gets to have a good life.
Date me instead by Zhuletta :. Or: Eddie proposes a crazy idea to see if there's something wrong with him, Steve finds the fact that it works is even crazier.
We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by OonionChiver :. âIâve never loved anything the way I love you, Steve Harrington,â Eddie says, dark brown eyes moving between Steveâs own. âThis isnât the moment, sweetheart.â (this has lots of porn but like emotional bsdm porn WITH PLOT)
The Worst Mixtape Ever Made by nbfutureboy :. Thereâs an art to making a mixtape - and Steve Harrington has decidedly ignored all semblance of art in creating a mixtape for Eddie Munson. Too bad Eddieâs fascinated with how impressively terrible his song choices are. (you need an ao3 acc to read this one!)
⣠fluff. that's it. that's the plot.
Paint Nights by AnnetheCatDetective :. Steve is looking for something for Dustin, but when he walks into the game and hobby shop, he sees something he likes.
you got a lot on your mind (and your heart it looks just like mine) by picklebaby :. Steve wakes up with a migraine and Eddie knows just how to take care of him.
All That You Ever Wanted From Me Was Sweet Nothing by t1red_gay :. Five times Eddie tells Steve he loves him, and one time Steve lets himself say it back. (I'm not sure if this fits in this section but I'm putting it here)
run my heart through your gentle cycle by cheatghost :. Thatâs how Steve finds himself doing his laundry at the college laundromat every Sunday night. It's how he ends up stumbling upon a metalhead with dark brown curls and even darker eyes, sitting on top of his machine. (the angst is like for half a chapter so its in the fluff section)
you're my sunshine (and I want you to know) by througheden :. Steve tries to right that wrong and gets something unexpected in return.
youâre just like a dream by joehardys :. Or, Steve, from Eddieâs point of view.
and here we are in heaven, for you are mine at last by obsceme :. Or: 5 times Steve steals Eddie's clothes, and one time Eddie returns the favor.
i'm your man (don't you know that?) by thatsadorable :. 5 times that steve and eddie go on a date +1 time that eddie realizes that they are dating
when no one's there (please take my hand) by coupe_de_foudre :. "You look good. Do I need a reason?"
⣠want some angst with a happy ending? I gotchu
Take a Joke by towardthesun :. Steve has spent his whole life trying to learn how to take a joke, trying to figure out how to not take everything so personally. His first big fight with Eddie shows him he might not be the only one struggling
All's Well That Ends Better by througheden :. Vecna dies, but Steve nearly goes with him. An AU where Eddie drags Steve out of Hell.
i've got you. by througheden :. He sighs and drops his head to stare down at the carpet beneath him. It breaks his heart, seeing Steve hurt like this.
palm split with a flower with a flame by laundrybiscuits :. Steve and Eddie take a roadtrip. (hanahaki au)
Press Those Honeyed Lips To Mine (And Call It A Lullaby) by StarlightDreamer16 :. There were upsides and downsides to hiding his and Eddie's relationship for the past decade. (check this out, one of my favorites)
in the blood orange sun by ghosttotheparty :. or; Steve is scared of water, and tries to just deal with it.
hope i cross your mind by rogersharringtons :. After a messy breakup five years prior, Eddie sees Steve for the first time with a date that looks a little too similar to a certain metalhead from years ago.
uh-oh, love comes to town by 96tears :. So, when Vickie and Robin set Eddie up on a blind date with Vickieâs cousin, Steve figures he feels weird about it because heâs the only one without a date.
Keep It Secret, Or It Won't Come True by NoBinoDino :. Or: 5 times Steve Harrington felt alone on his birthday, and 1 time he didn't.
Three Shots by steveharringtoned :. Steve Harrington watches his own blood pool and trickle over a series of hands pressed against him, small and large, soft and rugged, and for a moment, wants to stay like this. He canât. (SO GOOD READ IT)
Support Local by Ijustlikereadingcutefics :. Or: the one where Steve is obsessed with watching Eddie play the guitar.
itâll be fine by dusk light (iâm telling you, baby) by Anonymous :. "You leaving?" Eddie gives him a smile, sad around the edges where it reaches his eyes, says, âYeah,â and Steve knows he doesnât just mean for tonight. (cant believe I didn't put this one here sooner ITS SO FREAKING GOOD)
my way, your way (anything goes) by rogersharringtons :. Rockstar!Eddie Munson au set in the summer of 1988 where Corroded Coffin opens for Guns Nâ Roses after Eddie ran away from Hawkins. Steve sees him for the first time in over a year and old feelings resurface.
⣠got stuff for the horny bitches too don't worry
i'm not busy (this is what I was prepping for) by whatdoyoudesire :. Or Steve walks in on Eddie cockwarming a dildo and can't help himself.
Don't Let Your Gaze Linger by scrunglebungus :. Thus, the Prince and Consort play their favorite game. (very hot, I gotta say)
Just a Taste by AnnetheCatDetective :. steve thinks virgin!eddie is straight and tries to help him out with sexual advice
Heaven's On Fire by oscarwilderobbieross :. eddie and steve accidently meet up in a BDSM bar and hookup (there's a little more to it but don't want to spoil)
Fall Morning by KxxxFrost :. A fall morning to enjoy because certain metalhead woke up a little bit too horny
i'm not busy (this is what I was prepping for) by whatdoyoudesire :. Or Steve walks in on Eddie cockwarming a dildo and can't help himself.
Don't Let Your Gaze Linger by scrunglebungus :. Thus, the Prince and Consort play their favorite game. (very hot, I gotta say)
Just a Taste by AnnetheCatDetective :. steve thinks virgin!eddie is straight and tries to help him out with sexual advice
Heaven's On Fire by oscarwilderobbieross :. eddie and steve accidently meet up in a BDSM bar and hookup (there's a little more to it but don't want to spoil)
Fall Morning by KxxxFrost :. A fall morning to enjoy because certain metalhead woke up a little bit too horny
you're the singer and i'm the song by ruinations :. After hearing a rumor that Steve's fantastic at eating pussy, Eddie asks Steve to prove it to him. Steve is more than happy to oblige.
i'm not busy (this is what I was prepping for) by whatdoyoudesire :. Or Steve walks in on Eddie cockwarming a dildo and can't help himself.
Don't Let Your Gaze Linger by scrunglebungus :. Thus, the Prince and Consort play their favorite game. (very hot, I gotta say)
Just a Taste by AnnetheCatDetective :. steve thinks virgin!eddie is straight and tries to help him out with sexual advice
Heaven's On Fire by oscarwilderobbieross :. eddie and steve accidently meet up in a BDSM bar and hookup (there's a little more to it but don't want to spoil)
Fall Morning by KxxxFrost :. A fall morning to enjoy because certain metalhead woke up a little bit too horny
i'm not busy (this is what I was prepping for) by whatdoyoudesire :. Or Steve walks in on Eddie cockwarming a dildo and can't help himself.
Don't Let Your Gaze Linger by scrunglebungus :. Thus, the Prince and Consort play their favorite game. (very hot, I gotta say)
Just a Taste by AnnetheCatDetective :. steve thinks virgin!eddie is straight and tries to help him out with sexual advice
Heaven's On Fire by oscarwilderobbieross :. eddie and steve accidently meet up in a BDSM bar and hookup (there's a little more to it but don't want to spoil)
Fall Morning by KxxxFrost :. A fall morning to enjoy because certain metalhead woke up a little bit too horny
you're the singer and i'm the song by ruinations :. After hearing a rumor that Steve's fantastic at eating pussy, Eddie asks Steve to prove it to him. Steve is more than happy to oblige.
down down down on my knees by Anonymous :. Steve Harrington was a fucking beefcake. Soft fat over layers of muscle, thick thighs and biceps. No showboating shit, Steve was an actual powerhouse. He could bench press Eddie, easily. It was so fucking hot. (there's more plot than it seems)
Why is Eddie Munson at Your House? by MeaMeaAudio :. Eddie is used to it being fast, quick, and dirty. But this. This is not something heâs familiar with. Steve The Hair Harrington pushes him up against a brick wall in a dark alley. His mouth soft and tenderly kissing him as if asking a question over and over again.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Gojo is pathetically down bad for a certain student at Jujutsu Tech. Despite his best efforts, attempts at wooing said student repeatedly end in breathtaking disaster.
16 fics, 20k - 260k words (ordered by word count), lots of slow burn and angst with happy endings:), all on a03!
part 2 here~
âȘ â stsg staples (if new, start here ;o) | â” â personal favs
+ blurring all the lines, you intoxicate me (flyingmonkiesattack)
"Or: Getou Suguru is married and doesn't believe in soulmates. But when he meets Gojo Satoru, he can't help but be enthralled by the man."
(Soulmate-identifying Marks, Cheating, ANGST)
wc: 20k / Complete
+ loved you first (flyingmonkiesattack)
âSatoru is used to being clingy with his best friend, draping himself all over Suguru at any and every opportunity. Suguru never seems to mind, giving back just as much as he takes.
And then he gets a boyfriend, and Satoruâs world comes crashing down.â
(Jealous Gojo Satoru, Getting Together, First Time)
WC: 21k / Complete
+ â” i'll become your wound (ordinarymonsters)
âHe would know this voice anywhereâthe softness of it, the warmth. It curls around him, achingly familiar. Itâs been ten years, but there are some things not even time can erase. Heâs certain he would even recognize the smell of him. The air is thick with coffee beans and breaded pastries, but if it was all stripped to nothing, Satoru would know the slight spice and clean scent of Geto Suguru as well as he knows himself.â
-Or, itâs been ten years, and this is how they fell apartâonly to fall back together again."
(Getting Together, Falling Apart, Second Chances)
WC: 23k / Complete
+ â” me and my husband, we're doing better (interludewings)
âIn which Satoru Gojo decides to adopt two children, only to discover that he accidentally married his ex-boyfriend, Suguru Geto, during a drunken episode just months before their breakup. Now, they find themselves living together, forced to maintain the facade of a loving couple. This leads to a series of petty tricks, cringe-worthy pet names, and the unexpected challenge of raising children together.â
(Exes to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Family Fluff)Â
WC: 46k / Complete
+ crash course on intoxication (velourfantasy)
âThere might not be any curse more twisted than love, but frequent alcoholism sure does come close.
Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru are in the prime of their lives. They share an apartment together at the same college, they're studying things they both like, and their best friendship is just as strong as ever. It's everything Gojo hoped for and more...until he walks in on his best friend getting laid at a party he forced him to attend.
Or: Gojo realizes his feelings for Getou run much deeper than friendship, jam packed with alcohol-induced incidents and metaphors.âÂ
(AU - College/University, Roommates, Unrequited Requited Love)
WC: 48k / Incomplete
(pray that we get an update soon.)
+ âȘ carry me home (valleykey)
âThe boy shifts on his feet. âThe year is two thousand and eighteen? Common Era?â
Slowly, smile still plastic on his face, Suguru faces Satoru. This fucking dumbass. âSatoru,â he says, dangerous edge to his voice, âwhat did you do?â
Satoru makes some bastardization of a sound, half between a laugh and a cough. â...Whoops?â
âI,â Suguru grits, pinching two fingers together, âam this close to mass murder.â Heâs joking. Probably.
 ///OR: Shortly before GetĆ would have massacred a village, he and GojĆ are thrust eleven years forward into a would-have-been future that GetĆ is conspicuously absent from.â
(Time Travel Fix-It, Geto Suguru-centric, ft. mental spiraling)
WC: 58k / Complete
+ âȘ æăźăăć Žæ; river of light (that brings me to you) (cosmichorrour)
âA lesson in love is a lesson in swimming. Except for Suguru, itâs getting dropped into the deep end with the tide licking at his neck, no kickboard or life preserver keeping him afloat.Â
(Or: This is how Satoru finds the ocean.)
(âin love with your best friend things + butterflies in the stomach things.â)
WC: 67k / Complete
+ what's it worth to you? (FrozenChopsticks)
âGeto Suguru has done some wild shit for a dollar. He's worked crappy jobs, he's endured awful bosses, but this might be the craziest yet. How hard could it be to be a sugar baby for some pretty boy with a couple million followers online and enough money to run a small nation?
Very hard, apparently. And it's not just Gojo's high-maintenance behavior that's hard on Suguru. (no pun intended)
Neither man has done this before, but it's a good thing they are both experts at pretending like they know what they're doing. And accidentally falling for each other isn't exactly what they had in mind.â
(SUGAR DADDY, Influencer Gojo Satoru, Graduate Student Geto Suguru, SMUTTY)
WC: 86k / Complete
(so angsty. so horny. FrozenChopsticks >>>)
+ âȘ little things to live for (LyricalPary)
âSuguru is ten years old when Gojo Satoru comes into his life.
He's nineteen years old when Gojo Satoru becomes his life.
(or, falling in love with his childhood best friend during their annual trip to Okinawa was never part of the plan).â
(Growing Up Together, Summer Romance, Hurt/Comfort)
WC: 101k / Complete
+ â”â”â” crimson supernova (serenadewave)
â"You don't know what you're talking about," Suguru says dismissively, his voice laced with quiet indifference and a hint of irritation. The deliberate clink of books and pens echoes in the stillness, a subtle reminder of the distance heâs putting between them. His gaze flickers toward Satoru. âAnd get off my desk.â
Satoruâs lips curl into a smug smile as he rolls his tongue over the lollipop hanging lazily from his mouth. Unbothered, his eyes sparkle with mischief. "Or what, Professor?"
OR: It started out as a game, just something for Satoru to pass the time in lectures so as not to go insane. Really, that's all it was. How the hell it managed to erupt and morph into this, Satoru has no idea.â
(Professor Geto Suguru, College/University Satoru, Teacher-Student Relationship, both are adults, SLOW BURN)
WC: 104k / Incomplete
(THE slow burn of slow burn. I would genuinely sell my soul for this fic. the weekly updates keep me alive).
+ â” (when facing) the things we turn away from (Darkness747)
âSuguru had let it go too far with Satoru. But what else was he supposed to do when Satoru was right there, looking at him in the beautiful way he always looked at people? What else was he supposed to do when he could feel Satoruâs body heat from across the bed? Or when their hands accidentally brushed as they walked through the hallways at school? Suguruâs heart broke within him, reconstructing, swelling, bleeding, and breaking again each time Satoruâs eyes met his, looking at him in the beautiful way he really only looked at Suguru.
Or (in a less poetic version): the coming-of-age American high school trope but it's Satosugu.â
(AU - high school, ANGST, Teen Romance)
WC: 109k / Complete
+ you left your mark (FrozenChopsticks)
âAt 28, Gojo Satoru's got a whole lot of things going right. He's got a business he loves, co-workers who adore (read: tolerate) him, and a kid he looks after. To his mother however, there are a whole lot of things he's doing wrong.
In a bid to assuage his mother's worries about her son staying single forever, he visits a matchmaker. What he expects is a fun time to laugh about later. What he gets is a run in with the man who loved him and left him eight years ago.
Geto Suguru is a different man from the boy he grew up alongside and shared so many firsts with. Even if Suguru has been assigned to find Satoru his future wife, they both can't deny the tension that still simmers between them.
And Satoru's going to do just about anything to get back the man he fumbled so long beforeâŠâÂ
(Matchmaking, Second Chances, Tattoo Artist Gojo Satoru, Romantic Dramedy?)
WC: 112k / Complete
(Tattoo Artist Gojo Satoru. TATTOO ARTIST GOJO SATORU.)
+ for you, my life (TokyoBunny)
âA story where Gojo didn't- couldn't kill Suguru Geto that day and the windfall that came with his weakness in that moment.â
(if gojo saved geto, And they fell in love, caretaking)
WC: 136k / Complete
+ split (ohsocyanide)
ââSpeaking of,â Nanami said, possessing all the eloquence of someone who knew precisely how devastating words could be, âI heard you were getting a divorce.â
"A separation," Gojo corrected him primly.â
(Married Geto/Gojo, Parents Geto/Gojo, AU-Canon Divergence)Â
WC: 142k / Incomplete
+ see you through my eyes (svarozhich)
âSatoru Gojo is the pinnacle of strength and standing at the apex of the jujutsu world comes with a price paid in lonely hours and haunting memories. Not so long ago the now-empty spot beside him was occupied by someone capable of reaching out through Infinity and keeping up with his pace; another name worthy of standing equal to his. A best friend he killed with his own hands. The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons happened almost a year ago. Suguru Geto is supposed to be dead.
--
âSo what actually happens when in assumption the body dies, but turns out the soul does not?â
A story about second chances.â
(AU- Canon Divergence, Post-Shibuya, FixâIt of Sorts, Getting Together)
WC: 231k / Complete
+ âȘ coanda effect (bunniehoney)
âThe JJK motorsport AU based on Formula One.â
(Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Driver Gojo, Team Principal Geto)
WC: 262k / Complete
(The woman, the myth, the legend herself. Basically invented satosugu.)
++ drop your fav fics in the comments below challenge, go!
the thing that really kills me about all the new jjk art is that shoko is always there. they were a trio. just because she wasn't involved with protecting riko (aka the majority of what we saw in hidden inventory) doesn't mean that she wasn't there. shoko loved suguru and satoru. suguru and satoru loved her. loves. fandom can push her away all they want but it will never diminish the fact that shoko was just as important to satoru and suguru as they are to her. she was there. she is there. she loves them and they love her.
16 fics, 20k - 260k words (ordered by word count), lots of slow burn and angst with happy endings:), all on a03!
âȘ â stsg staples (if new, start here ;o) | â” â personal favs
+ blurring all the lines, you intoxicate me (flyingmonkiesattack)
"Or: Getou Suguru is married and doesn't believe in soulmates. But when he meets Gojo Satoru, he can't help but be enthralled by the man."
(Soulmate-identifying Marks, Cheating, ANGST)
wc: 20k / Complete
+ loved you first (flyingmonkiesattack)
âSatoru is used to being clingy with his best friend, draping himself all over Suguru at any and every opportunity. Suguru never seems to mind, giving back just as much as he takes.
And then he gets a boyfriend, and Satoruâs world comes crashing down.â
(Jealous Gojo Satoru, Getting Together, First Time)
WC: 21k / Complete
+ â” i'll become your wound (ordinarymonsters)
âHe would know this voice anywhereâthe softness of it, the warmth. It curls around him, achingly familiar. Itâs been ten years, but there are some things not even time can erase. Heâs certain he would even recognize the smell of him. The air is thick with coffee beans and breaded pastries, but if it was all stripped to nothing, Satoru would know the slight spice and clean scent of Geto Suguru as well as he knows himself.â
-Or, itâs been ten years, and this is how they fell apartâonly to fall back together again."
(Getting Together, Falling Apart, Second Chances)
WC: 23k / Complete
+ â” me and my husband, we're doing better (interludewings)
âIn which Satoru Gojo decides to adopt two children, only to discover that he accidentally married his ex-boyfriend, Suguru Geto, during a drunken episode just months before their breakup. Now, they find themselves living together, forced to maintain the facade of a loving couple. This leads to a series of petty tricks, cringe-worthy pet names, and the unexpected challenge of raising children together.â
(Exes to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Family Fluff)Â
WC: 46k / Complete
+ crash course on intoxication (velourfantasy)
âThere might not be any curse more twisted than love, but frequent alcoholism sure does come close.
Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru are in the prime of their lives. They share an apartment together at the same college, they're studying things they both like, and their best friendship is just as strong as ever. It's everything Gojo hoped for and more...until he walks in on his best friend getting laid at a party he forced him to attend.
Or: Gojo realizes his feelings for Getou run much deeper than friendship, jam packed with alcohol-induced incidents and metaphors.âÂ
(AU - College/University, Roommates, Unrequited Requited Love)
WC: 48k / Incomplete
(pray that we get an update soon.)
+ âȘ carry me home (valleykey)
âThe boy shifts on his feet. âThe year is two thousand and eighteen? Common Era?â
Slowly, smile still plastic on his face, Suguru faces Satoru. This fucking dumbass. âSatoru,â he says, dangerous edge to his voice, âwhat did you do?â
Satoru makes some bastardization of a sound, half between a laugh and a cough. â...Whoops?â
âI,â Suguru grits, pinching two fingers together, âam this close to mass murder.â Heâs joking. Probably.
 ///OR: Shortly before GetĆ would have massacred a village, he and GojĆ are thrust eleven years forward into a would-have-been future that GetĆ is conspicuously absent from.â
(Time Travel Fix-It, Geto Suguru-centric, ft. mental spiraling)
WC: 58k / Complete
+ âȘ æăźăăć Žæ; river of light (that brings me to you) (cosmichorrour)
âA lesson in love is a lesson in swimming. Except for Suguru, itâs getting dropped into the deep end with the tide licking at his neck, no kickboard or life preserver keeping him afloat.Â
(Or: This is how Satoru finds the ocean.)
(âin love with your best friend things + butterflies in the stomach things.â)
WC: 67k / Complete
+ what's it worth to you? (FrozenChopsticks)
âGeto Suguru has done some wild shit for a dollar. He's worked crappy jobs, he's endured awful bosses, but this might be the craziest yet. How hard could it be to be a sugar baby for some pretty boy with a couple million followers online and enough money to run a small nation?
Very hard, apparently. And it's not just Gojo's high-maintenance behavior that's hard on Suguru. (no pun intended)
Neither man has done this before, but it's a good thing they are both experts at pretending like they know what they're doing. And accidentally falling for each other isn't exactly what they had in mind.â
(SUGAR DADDY, Influencer Gojo Satoru, Graduate Student Geto Suguru, SMUTTY)
WC: 86k / Complete
(so angsty. so horny. FrozenChopsticks >>>)
+ âȘ little things to live for (LyricalPary)
âSuguru is ten years old when Gojo Satoru comes into his life.
He's nineteen years old when Gojo Satoru becomes his life.
(or, falling in love with his childhood best friend during their annual trip to Okinawa was never part of the plan).â
(Growing Up Together, Summer Romance, Hurt/Comfort)
WC: 101k / Complete
+ â”â”â” crimson supernova (serenadewave)
â"You don't know what you're talking about," Suguru says dismissively, his voice laced with quiet indifference and a hint of irritation. The deliberate clink of books and pens echoes in the stillness, a subtle reminder of the distance heâs putting between them. His gaze flickers toward Satoru. âAnd get off my desk.â
Satoruâs lips curl into a smug smile as he rolls his tongue over the lollipop hanging lazily from his mouth. Unbothered, his eyes sparkle with mischief. "Or what, Professor?"
OR: It started out as a game, just something for Satoru to pass the time in lectures so as not to go insane. Really, that's all it was. How the hell it managed to erupt and morph into this, Satoru has no idea.â
(Professor Geto Suguru, College/University Satoru, Teacher-Student Relationship, both are adults, SLOW BURN)
WC: 104k / Incomplete
(THE slow burn of slow burn. I would genuinely sell my soul for this fic. the weekly updates keep me alive).
+ â” (when facing) the things we turn away from (Darkness747)
âSuguru had let it go too far with Satoru. But what else was he supposed to do when Satoru was right there, looking at him in the beautiful way he always looked at people? What else was he supposed to do when he could feel Satoruâs body heat from across the bed? Or when their hands accidentally brushed as they walked through the hallways at school? Suguruâs heart broke within him, reconstructing, swelling, bleeding, and breaking again each time Satoruâs eyes met his, looking at him in the beautiful way he really only looked at Suguru.
Or (in a less poetic version): the coming-of-age American high school trope but it's Satosugu.â
(AU - high school, ANGST, Teen Romance)
WC: 109k / Complete
+ you left your mark (FrozenChopsticks)
âAt 28, Gojo Satoru's got a whole lot of things going right. He's got a business he loves, co-workers who adore (read: tolerate) him, and a kid he looks after. To his mother however, there are a whole lot of things he's doing wrong.
In a bid to assuage his mother's worries about her son staying single forever, he visits a matchmaker. What he expects is a fun time to laugh about later. What he gets is a run in with the man who loved him and left him eight years ago.
Geto Suguru is a different man from the boy he grew up alongside and shared so many firsts with. Even if Suguru has been assigned to find Satoru his future wife, they both can't deny the tension that still simmers between them.
And Satoru's going to do just about anything to get back the man he fumbled so long beforeâŠâÂ
(Matchmaking, Second Chances, Tattoo Artist Gojo Satoru, Romantic Dramedy?)
WC: 112k / Complete
(Tattoo Artist Gojo Satoru. TATTOO ARTIST GOJO SATORU.)
+ for you, my life (TokyoBunny)
âA story where Gojo didn't- couldn't kill Suguru Geto that day and the windfall that came with his weakness in that moment.â
(if gojo saved geto, And they fell in love, caretaking)
WC: 136k / Complete
+ split (ohsocyanide)
ââSpeaking of,â Nanami said, possessing all the eloquence of someone who knew precisely how devastating words could be, âI heard you were getting a divorce.â
"A separation," Gojo corrected him primly.â
(Married Geto/Gojo, Parents Geto/Gojo, AU-Canon Divergence)Â
WC: 142k / Incomplete
+ see you through my eyes (svarozhich)
âSatoru Gojo is the pinnacle of strength and standing at the apex of the jujutsu world comes with a price paid in lonely hours and haunting memories. Not so long ago the now-empty spot beside him was occupied by someone capable of reaching out through Infinity and keeping up with his pace; another name worthy of standing equal to his. A best friend he killed with his own hands. The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons happened almost a year ago. Suguru Geto is supposed to be dead.
--
âSo what actually happens when in assumption the body dies, but turns out the soul does not?â
A story about second chances.â
(AU- Canon Divergence, Post-Shibuya, FixâIt of Sorts, Getting Together)
WC: 231k / Complete
+ âȘ coanda effect (bunniehoney)
âThe JJK motorsport AU based on Formula One.â
(Childhood Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Driver Gojo, Team Principal Geto)
WC: 262k / Complete
(The woman, the myth, the legend herself. Basically invented satosugu.)
++ drop your fav fics in the comments below challenge, go!
âżâ§âË âŸ. â say yes to heaven đ€ sylus ç§Š ââŽïžËïœĄâ âż
pairing âżâ§âË: lads sylus x reader
summary âżâ§âË: 3+1: three times Sylus suppresses his desire to have you, and one time his control finally snaps. sprinkled with relationship fluff, size difference, love confessions and whole lot of overthinking from our fav crow boy.
word count âżâ§âË: 13.6k (a whole ass freaking novella, grab a snack.)
tropes âżâ§âË: 18+, 3+1, smut, but packed with feelings, fluff, est. relationship, body worship, plot with porn??, love confessions, sylus is obsessed, and so in love, first times implied, p in v, size difference, (by size difference i mean sylus is freaking huge, like a mountain of a man, so big it actually makes him nervous bc u so small, every single one of us would be a small dot next to him thatâs my personal headcanon, have you seen his ib memory? yeah, yeah u have this man HUGE), anyways what is protection they donât use it donât be like them, needy sylus, pet names, everything is consensual, awooo.
Sylus usually considered himself to be a patient man.
He occasionally did act on his desiresâhe could admit that muchâbut when it came to the things he truly cared about, the things he treasured, he didnât mind the wait. He knew that the best things in life came at a price, and if the currency was time, in this case he was willing to pay in full. He knew it was worth it. That you were worth it.
You, who accepted him as he was, with all his flaws and imperfections, making his life better every day you were together. You, who were so brave, gentle, and kind that you made him want to become a better man tooâjust so that one day, he could say he truly deserved you. You, who he had completely fallen for, unable to imagine a world in which he wouldnât make the same choice of courting you all over again.
Thatâs why he wanted nothing more than to treasure and respect you in every aspect of lifeâincluding intimacy and his own desires. And to be perfectly candid, he had plenty of those from the very moment he laid eyes on you. But he wanted to act like a gentleman, never rushing you into anything. He was patient, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to be sure you trusted him, that you werenât afraid of himâor of the things he wanted to do to you if he ever got the chance.
And even after several months of officially dating you, he still stuck to his resolve, despite the unhealthy hunger growing inside him. He was adamant that you make the first move, even though the waiting was slowly killing him from the insideâhis desires burning through his skin, desperate to see the light of your glossy eyes, to feel you squirming beneath him, and to hear your soft moans and whimpers, letting him know that you wanted him too.
He wanted you passionately. He didnât desire anyone or anything else in his life. He had never thought of anyone else in such terms, which made the wait much more bearable, fun even. The occasional tension in the air only made things between you even more intriguing. Sylus wondered when the moment would come for you to finally let him explore you, taste you, just as he had wanted since the first time he held you in his arms.
He was a patient man. An inquisitive one, but patient nonetheless.
But it was just getting too much for him to handle lately.
He wondered if you were doing this on purpose. Were you trying to make him go feral with want, push him into some action? Maybe you were just too shy to ask for something more, and decided to coax him to take you right then and there? Was it an act? A part of your meticulous, sneaky plan?
He felt his sanity slowly dissipating.
âSylus? Please, hurry up and help me, we have to go!â You turned your head to look at him, your lips puckered in an adorable pout, and your feet anxiously shifting from one to the other, the sound of your beautiful black heels clicking against the floor of your apartment. The red soles didnât go unnoticed by him.
And what didnât go unnoticed as well was how breathtakingly gorgeous you looked, dressed in your tight black gown that accentuated the figure he was obsessed with.
However, he was a strong man. He could look at you in a dress and not get an instant boner; he wasnât some mere beast. But when you asked for his help, he realized that life hadnât prepared him for everything you had up your sleeve.
Because right now, you stood before him, your back turned toward him, holding your hair in your hands and exposing a zipper that you wanted him to take care of. A zipper that ran from your neck down, down, down to your red lace panties, which peeked out from beneath the unzipped black material.
He turned his head upward at the sight, his hand reaching for the bridge of his nose, a silent prayer escaping his lips. If God existed, He was not merciful this time.
He could also clearly see that you werenât wearing a bra, the soft skin of your back exposed, slightly hidden under the material of the dress. Hadnât he suffered enough?
He wanted to bark. Badly.
Oh fuck, was he really going to bark?
He hoped not.
âSy?â The nickname almost made his legs buckle. He needed a moment to calm himself after just one look at you, and it seemed to take him much longer than what would be considered natural. The impatience in your voice betrayed your desire not to be late for the opera performance, which he had promised to take you to today. He gulped audibly and realized that you had no idea what you were doing to himâand that scared him.
If you were this dangerous unintentionally, how will he survive when youâll finally, consciously decide to take things further?
âYes. Yes, of course, sweetie.â He managed to choke out and stepped closer to you, your delectable scent overwhelming his senses. He tried to hide the slight tremble in his hands as he reached for the zipper at the bottom of your dress. When he zipped you up, he took his sweet time caressing your body with his knuckles, basking in the soft feeling of your skin and the dangerous touch of the lace of your panties. He hoped you couldnât hear his heartbeatâor see the pink in his cheeks. He couldnât remember the last time he had blushed, but now he was sure of it, judging by the warmth on his face.
He was hopeless. Utterly ruined.
âThere you go.â He said quietly, caressing your beautiful hair with his fingers, smoothing the creases which appeared after your hold. He brushed it from your neck and planted a slow kiss there, his movements far too composed for someone who was boiling with desire inside.
âThank you. I couldnât reach it at all and weâre already short on time.â You put your hand on his head, patting it gently and sighing when he touched your waist. He couldnât help but squeeze you there, feeling the warmth of your skin through the soft material of your dress. You understood this gesture as teasing and giggled adorably.
âYou look magnificent, my dove.â The compliment slipped through his lips, earning him your sweet smile and a kiss on a cheek. He watched as you passed him to grab your purse, going straight to the front door, leaving him behind. Trusting heâll follow your step, as he always did.
Sylus closed his eyes and touched the very spot on his cheek where your lips had grazed, releasing a sigh that could be interpreted as both contentment and a silent prayer for endurance.
âYou coming, Sy?â He could hear you calling for him, and he opened his eyes. His left one shone brightly at him from his reflection on the window. His Evol proved useless when his body already made it abundantly clear whatâor whomâhe desired the most.
âI fucking wish.â He whispered under his breath, turned around, and walked up to you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as he reveled in the weight of your body pressing against him. His ears were graced by your little squeal, that quickly transformed into uncontrollable laughter, a sound he wanted to record and play every time you were away.
You slapped his back playfully and joked about wanting to use your legs once in a while, and he laughed, saying that he just wanted to make sure that he had all he needed with him. Then, he grabbed his coat with his Evol, and used it to slam the door after you both went out. He hoped that the lust he felt, which started to get out of his control, managed to stay behind them.
He waited for so long; how hard could it be to wait for another couple of months?
ËâĄâËâżË°âĄ
Hard.
Tremendously hard, both theoretically and physically, given the reaction of his body upon the contact.
He shifted slightly so that you wouldnât feel his growing bulge against your core, his hands hovered over your thighs, his cheeks flaming hot. He was about to fucking pass out.
But you were none the wiser, sitting on his body, strangling him with your soft, mouth-watering thighs, practically rubbing yourself against him, and performing your little dance of victory after pushing him to the ground during your sparring.
Normally, he would have laughed with you and treasured your moment of happiness, his senses overwhelmed by pride as he watched you get better and better at self-defense with every practice.
But that was just cruel.
Not only did you show up in that little piece of fabric covering your breasts, something you dared to call a sports bra, its thin straps reminiscent of a fish net, offering NO support whatsoever for your charms, but you also dared to wear that pair of leggings you claimed you had bought with your friend during your last trip to the mall.
And they were leaving nothing for his imagination, your every curve hugged tightly, every dip deliciously emphasized. And fuck, you looked gorgeous in wine red. You knew you did.
âI got it in your color! Do you like it?â You asked upon entering his gym, twirling for him like the most adorable fucking thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing, your arms up and your hair still untied. He did saw red, and it wasnât just the color of your clothing.
His color. His girl in his color, he was going absolutely feral.
âI do.â He choked out, and tried to avert his eyes from your posture but lost that battle quickly. âYou look stunning. My little gem.â He answered and you dared to look at him sheepishly, your face showing the signs of getting flustered.
âIâm not just a gem anymore. Iâm a professional fighter.â You playfully punched his shoulder, jumping around and mimicking boxing moves, making him laugh out loud as he grabbed your fists in his hands. He pulled you closer to him and kissed your forehead, his arms wrapong around your frame.
âIs that an apology in advance?â You asked him when his lips left your skin. He smirked, his brow raising.
âMight be. Today weâll be practicing attacks and knocking down your opponent.â
âMe? Knocking you down?â You looked at him with disbelief, your hands dropping to your sides, already defeated. âIâm doomed. Sylus, canât I knock down Luke or Kieran instead?â Your cute pout and hands clasped in a begging gesture made him laugh again, as he fixed the bandages on your hands.
âAnd you think they would be easier to conquer?â
âYes. Obviously, yes.â
âBut they wouldnât make sure youâre not going to hurt yourself, kitten, and I already know your patternsâŠâ He leaned over you, his hot breath caressing your ear, making you shiver. His hands avoided touching your body. âAnd weak spotsâŠâ A whisper and a gentle bite on your earlobe were enough to send your adrenaline soaring.
âYouâ!â You jumped from him, like a little kitten, your face flustered and gaze filled with playful threat. âYouâre going down mister. Youâre SO going dooown.â
And down he went.
Right under your soft body, squashed between your warm tights, looking up at your beautiful lips twisted in an adorable, cunning smirk.
Oh, the way he loved you. The way he wanted to have you. The intensity of that feeling started to suffocate him.
âOkay, you got me, sweetie.â He choked out and tried his best to sound as nonchalant as possible. But nothing about this situation was nonchalantâyour soft tights squeezing his waist and your butt pressing on his weak spot almost made him see stars. He grabbed your waist to try to stop your body from moving and gritted his teeth, fighting with himself to not buckle his hips up. âNow, up. I admit defeat.â
Defeat that had to do with the improvement of your skills and the force of your little fists, yes, but also with the way Sylus was distracted by your body, his eyes wandering everywhere during the battle, but not the places he should actually pay attention to.
Apparently, he was a weak, weak man, when the situation concerned you. Weak and impossibly horny.
âHmm, Iâm not sure if I want to.â You answered, a mischievous glint adored your gaze. He drank that expression in.
Beautiful. You were absolutely beautiful, sitting on him, your body sparkling with sweat, face red from the exhaustion. How could he keep his mind from going places? âI think I like you like this.â His eyebrows went up, and cheeks felt a little bit too warm for his liking.
What were you trying to say?
âYes? Like what, kitten?â His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. He knew that you could feel it, one of your hands rested on top of it, stroking his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin through his shirt. He shivered, his body covered in goosebumps, finding the gentle touch too intense, somehow.
âTowering over you.â His breath hitched, his heart almost stopped its beating. âItâs much easier to look at your face when Iâm like this. Itâs nice.â His heart squeezed instead, your confession turning out to be more touching than teasing, and he cursed himself internally for belittling your interactions and intimacy lately. His mind immediately assumed sexual undertones, where everything you were doing with him, at your own, unique pace should be more than enough for him.
âYou like looking at me that much, huh?â He answered, his hand going up to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. He smiled with content, and he put his hand at the nape of your neck, hoping youâll understand the implications.
You did. Not a second later you lowered your body so that you were lying on top of him, one of his hands holding you to himself by your waist, pressing you even closer together. He acknowledged how much he loved your full weight on his body, your hearts pressed so close to each other they started beating as one.
You put your hands on his cheeks, smiled down at him, and pressed a small kiss to one of his eyelids, and then to the tip of his nose. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling.
âOf course. Youâre my beautiful boy, Sylus.â You whispered to him, a smile adoring your face and he couldnât help himself. He pulled you close by your neck and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, almost whimpering into your mouth from the intensity of his feelings.
You reciprocated the kiss, not hesitating even for a second, and soon, both of your lips were swollen and glistening, your minds filled with sparkles and cotton.
You were the one to break the kiss, your mind going dizzy, body trembling from the arousal. He could feel it without using his Evolâthe desire that raised within you, the fire that now flowed through your veins. His eyes sparkled with anticipation.
One moment and youâll go pliant against him, melting into his embrace.
One second, and heâll finally taste heaven, be as close to you as anyone ever has been.
âY/N, will it be alright if Iââ He started speaking, your eyes looking at him from above as you held onto his cheek and neck, caressing his skin with your thumbs, making him feel oh, so cherished. Yet, he didnât manage to finish the request because a sudden crash from the door opening pierced through the silent room, popping your comfortable bubble in an instant.
You jumped out of his embrace, leaving him cold and yearning, his hands sliding over his face in frustration.
âBossââ
âLuke, Kieran it better be fucking important.â Sylus hissed through his teeth, and the fact that he didnât even try to hide his frustration made you huff out a laugh and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. You didnât want to laugh at him so openly, hiding how adorable his anger towards boys seemed to you at that moment.
His eyes caught yours, lured by the bubbly sound, and one of the corners of his mouth went up slightly. He raised his hand to your covered mouth and brought your hand down with his fingers, revealing your smile.
âIt is, Boss! The Girm Company chairman called and demanded a meeting in thirty minutes.â Luke said quickly, Kieran peeking out from behind his shoulder. âAnd he didnât want to take ânoâ for an answer.â Kieran added, his body now revealed.
You were not sure if Sylus was even listening, his eyes glued to your face, his fingers tracing the line of your smile absentmindedly. He still didnât raise from the floor of the ring, his posture relaxed, one arm now resting behind his head.
âThat bastard.â He answered under his breath, and closed his eyes in annoyance for a second and when he opened them, they were once again glued to you. âIf you donât want me to leave just say a word.â He said, and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. The back of his hand started a slow caress of your cheek, and you felt embarrassed, knowing that the boys were still looking at you both, waiting for Sylusâs answer.
âItâs okay, Sy. I actually have some errands to run in Linkon so I better get going.â You answered, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his fingers. His breath hitched, eyes following the movement with a longing deep in his chest. âBesides, Iâm tired of beating your ass today. Save some dignity for the next time.â You added with a mischievous look, poking his hard chest with your finger teasingly.
The laugh that came out of his chest was suddenâloud, deep, and so sincere that it warmed your chest, your lips spreading in a proud smile. He grabbed your hand off of his chest and brought it to his lips, kissing your fingertips. The mirth in his eyes clearly visible, the affection bare and tangible.
âYou are so generous, sweetie. Letting your pray off the hook so easily.â He couldnât stop smiling even when he was raising to his feet, his hand going to massage his left shoulder. He looked at you and offered you his hand, which you immediately accepted. He helped you stand, his eyes tracing your every move, still unable to look away.
Your body entranced him, your presence lit a fire in his veins. The point where your hands touched warm and almost overwhelming. His desire for more once again proven unquenchable.
âBoys, let him know Iâll be there. It seems that I need to remind him who actually is in the position to make demands.â His voice was now authoritative, followed by the boysâ exclamations of âWill do, boss,â along with two salutes send his way.
And they were gone just as quickly as they had appeared.
âDonât be too harsh on the chairman. I donât want to get in the way of your business.â He saw you turn to him with a worried expression on your face, and he leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering on the spot for much longer than necessary.
âHmm, Iâm afraid thatâs impossible.â He took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes. The sadness of you parting ways already blooming inside him. âThey cut our time together short, so Iâm planning on making them pay for that offense generously.â He smirked and watched you shake your head with disbelief, a small smile gracing your lips.
âI already miss you.â He heard you saying and you surprised him by throwing your arms around his neck, then kissing him almost senseless.
He closed his eyes and returned the kiss, which was starting to border on filthy. His hands grabbed your frame, pressing you closer to him, as his body bent toward you.
When you parted, your breaths were hot and heavy, a string of saliva still keeping your mouths connected. He stared at the filthy sight, his heart pounding in his chest, his boxers starting to become a rather tight fit. You placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away gently, your fingers trailing downward until they grazed his abdomen. He gulped audibly and remained still, watching you walk further and further away. He didnât trust himself to move even an inch, afraid he wouldnât be able to restrain himself anymore.
âBye, Sylus. Iâll let you know when I get home safely.â You told him, walking away backwards now, your eyes not leaving his. âAnd weâll continue what we started next time, okay, Boss?â The last part a whisper from your sweet lips, almost making him drop to his knees right then and there. You waved at him, shyness visible on your cheeks, and then you left him in the middle of the ring, stunned and filled with excruciating desire to finally have you.
Next time.
He groaned, his hands covering his blushing face, his mind already imagining the things heâll do to you, only if you let him. God, he hoped that youâll let him.
He did arrive late to the meeting that day, having to compose himself for much longer than you would have expected. He also made sure the chairman regretted keeping him away from youâyour softness, your scent, an addictive drug he never wanted to be deprived of. The audacity to take that from him deserved nothing less than the highest of punishments.
He couldnât help it, he already missed you.
ËâĄâËâżË°âĄ
Sylus could write poems about his beloved, listing all her remarkable qualities and quirks; however, not once would he describe her as elegant and composed.
You usually were a tornado of various emotions, a temple of the things you cherished, your expressions lively and loud, honest and unrestrained.
You were also a bit clumsyâan occasional stumble, a bump to your limb now and then, or a broken glass wasnât anything that Sylus hadnât see you do before. He often worried about you and your safety, with new bruises appearing on your body from bumping into things or a piece of glass piercing through your delicate skin. Sometimes, he wished he could protect you from yourself too, but all he could do was press a kiss to every small injury you sustained from your hectic movements.
All bumps aside, he utterly adored that quality of yours. Every time he caught you acting awkwardly his chest seemed to shrink on itself, his heart squeezing, cute aggression overcoming his senses. You were just so adorable in those moments, the sight always reminding him of a little fawn, beautiful but uneasy on its feet. His craving to grab you and hold you in his arms, protecting you from the whole world, was strong; the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, then to kiss you senseless, even stronger. You were his little chaos: wonderful in your unexpectedness, extraordinary in every sense of the word.
Needless to say, he was used to your adorable clumsiness. He loved it.
That was probably why his brain stopped working when you proved to be everything but clumsy while playing the games at the local funfair. Your moves sure and precise, your gaze locked onto the targets, your body positioned exactly how it should be in order to gain the reward you wantedâwhether it was a new plushie, a funky gadget or even some snacks.
And he had to say that this new, confident, borderline cocky behavior you were displaying was making him feel some things.
âWait, let me try this time.â You said the first time he couldnât score the prize, the claw mocking him relentlessly, wounding his pride.
You got that plushie in one, excellent attempt.
âLet me get that for you, Sy.â You proposed later, seeing him eyeing a figurine of a crow that reminded him of Mephisto. You were able to get not only that, but also a coupon for a food stall that served the best waffles youâve ever eaten. As for Sylus, the sweetness of the treat paled in comparison to your blinding smile, with whipped cream still staining the corner of your mouth. He swiped it away with his thumb, then licked the digit, sending you a wink in the process.
He took pride in your blush, especially when making each other red that day started to feel like a competition between you two, whether you were aware of it or not.
âYou want this one? Say no more, handsome.â Your words almost making him choke, your hands already grabbing the controls, your body bending over the machine, offering him a wonderful view of your ass. The tips of his ears immediately started to feel as if caught on fire. Even though he knew that you were teasing him, the pet name sounding foreign from your lips, he liked the feeling of you taking the initiative.
He also couldnât stop his eyes from wandering, your body presented to him in a way that felt illegal to watch. He swiped his gaze up from the nape of your neck to your shoulders, taking note of your delicious-looking waist, perky butt, and thighs, which seemed lonely without his hands squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.
The cheerful sound of the machine made him snap back into reality, just as you were looking over your shoulder, sending him the most sexy, oh so sexy, proud smirk he ever saw in his life. He smirked right back, even though his legs felt disturbingly like jelly.
âIâm starting to think you enjoy this.â He remarked, grabbing the prize from your hands once again, the rest of your treasures already sitting comfortably in the back of his car. You send him a mischievous smile and fixed your hair, your fingers threading through the strands, the smell of your perfume reaching him once again during that night.
He wanted to devour you.
âAnd whatâs wrong with that?â One of your hands grabbed his bicep, holding on to him as you started your lazy stroll in search of yet another entertainment. âYou always get me things. And since I know now that you suck at these games, I have a perfect opportunity to return the favor.â He laughed at that, his hand moving to flick your forehead.
âI donât suck at these games, all of them are tempered with, sweetie. I actually find it astonishing that you are so good at them.â His reply kind of soothing his wounded pride, his mind once again remembering your movements from before. The way you moved with confidence and grace, the little smirks and winks you send his way. His blood started to boil several stalls ago, and it hasnât calmed since. âMakes one wonder about the extend of your abilities.â
The new, cocky, and self-confident side of you aroused him almost to the point of him grabbing you by the waist and taking you to his car, taking advantage of his tined widows.
âIt all comes down to having a good strategy, as someone once taught me.â You said, repeating the words Sylus is always saying to you during your training, a mirth lacing your tone. How he adored you.
âWise counseling you have here, kitten. You must have a fantastic teacher, if his lessons are proving to be useful anywhere you go.â The smile not leaving your face making him never want to look away.
âOh, yes, he is. And an eye-candy too.â You touched his nose with the tip of your finger teasingly while he laughed. He stopped walking and turned to you fully, his arms closing around your waist, bringing you to him, close enough for your bodies to touch. The height difference always made him dizzy, with your head fully tilted upward in order to catch his gaze.
âMm. Maybe thatâs a quality he learned from you.â His tone quiet, one of his hands going to touch your cheek, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. You appeared stunned. âI cannot think of someone sweeter than you. If heâs a candy, youâre one delectable dessert.â He whispered, his eyes going from your eyes to your lips, their reddish tone reminding him of a little cherry. He was fighting with himself not to put his hands on your ass, and squeeze the flesh that you kept pushing his way from the very beginning of your date, or not to place a kiss on your smart little mouth, which kept sending him these playful smirks all day long. He knew that if he started here, he would not be able to stop. No one would be capable of separating him from you, public place be damned.
His desire boiling inside him, threatening to melt his vessels and pour from his body, enveloping you in a tight, pleasurable embrace. He felt feverish, your body pressed to his giving him all the warmth he ever needed, molding his thoughts to fit only your frame.
You were perfect in his eyes. Your body, the perfect shape for him to hold, your face the only one he wanted to remember. And the way he felt when he was with youâso immensely happy, so carefree, so rightâwas a feeling he had never even dreamed about having. Your banter, little jokes and witty comments made him so at ease he never wanted to stop talking to you, afraid of depriving himself of even a second of the comfort you brought him: the knowledge that he could speak his mind freely, for you understood him beyond the limitations of language. By your side, he could be himself, the thoughts in his head quiet, giving way to expressing himself in any way he wanted. His little taste of heaven: the time you spent together.
He loved you. So intensely it used to scare him, but now he was offering himself willingly, no longer afraid of rejection. Even though you both still didnât acknowledge it out loud, the feeling lingered in the air between you â a delectable sweetness, a comforting fragrance.
He wanted you. Body and soul. Soul and body. He liked to think he already had your soul in grasp, your actions and openness served as a perfect proof of that, yet your body was still his to claim. And the fact that there was still a part of you he didnât manage to possess, to thoroughly acknowledge, frustrated him inconceivably.
Especially because you had that strong of an effect on him. Everything you did capable of driving him perfectly insane. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your little finger, without being aware how completely obsessed he was with you.
âIs that so?â His gaze went from your hypnotizing eyes back to your lips, drinking in every single whisper. You stood on your tiptoes, the sight making his hands squeeze your waist tighter, his breath quickening, mind trying to process closer distance. âIf he keeps sweet-talking me like this, then I guess he will finally get to taste it.â You grabbed his chin and tilted it down, pressing a soft, drawn-out kiss to his lips. His eyes closed immediately, desperate to heighten his senses. He wanted this kiss to last, both in the moment and later in his memory.
And just as he was about to wrap his arms around your back, pulling you closer, hiding your body from everyone else just to steal a few more kisses, you stepped back, the quiet sound of a smooch echoing between you. He bit his lip, almost drawing blood, restraining himself from chasing after your lips.
âCâmon now. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve that I need to show you.â You gripped his hand tighter and started to walk toward one of the booths. You sent him a smile over your shoulder, making his efforts to calm his racing heart futile. âAnd then maybe we can grab some cotton candy? All this talk about sweets made me crave some.â
âAnything for you, sweetie.â He answered absentmindedly, your taste still lingering on his lips. How were you always able to move on from the kisses so quickly? It would be the only thing he could think about in the next minutes.
âAnd what do you want?â
âHmm?â The question shocked him, his eyebrows going up, his eyes intently observing your face.
âDo you have something youâd like to do while weâre here? I keep dragging you stall to stall ever since we came here.â You said while turning to fully face him, grabbing both of his hands. âI want you to have fun too.â
âI always have fun when Iâm with you.â His response honest, his thumb caressing your knuckles. âYou make life so interesting. And today you already managed to surprise me, so I would say that was more than enough entertainment for me in a day.â You rolled your eyes at him, a small smile on your lips, and looked at him with patience.
âBut the dayâs not over yet. Isnât there anything youâd like to do? Look around.â
He lifted his head from your frame and began taking in the booths and various food stalls that had previously escaped his attention. He hummed, as he could feel you shifting on your feet, unable to contain your excitement.
Thatâs when he caught something interesting out of the corner of his eyeâa couple emerging from a small booth, huge smiles plastered on their faces as they held small pieces of paper. A spark of excitement ignited inside him upon realizing what it was.
âThere. I want to have a memento.â He said, his finger pointing to that innocent-looking booth. Almost impossible to spot in the abundance of lights and sounds coming from other attractions.
âOkay! I think I already won you a mountain of mementos but ifâAh!â Your eyes lit up when you realized what he was pointing to, your lips spreading in a cheerful smile. âA photo booth! Sylus, thatâs wonderful!â
It wasnât long before you were both inside the booth, the space cramped, almost too small for him to fit. He sat on the small stool, taking up nearly all the space, leaving you no choice but to sit on one of his legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck for stability, yet there wasnât a hint of discomfort on your face.
He loved how natural it was for you to be this close to him, the proximity no longer making you nervous. He still remembered how you were at the beginning of your acquaintance, when even an eye contact was enough to make you to shy away. Now, touching him was as easy as breathing, your body relaxed and pliant under his wandering hands.
While you were clicking playfully on the screen, setting up the machine, he took his time observing youâmainly how your body looked next to his, which made him short-circuit, reminding him why he was still waiting for you to make the first move in initiating sexual intimacy. The reason he didnât want to rush things, nervousness buried deep inside his chest.
You were sitting on his leg, your whole body weighting next to nothing, his one limb nearly twice as big as both of yours. Your soft flesh pressed to him didnât even take up half of the place available on his leg, and when he put one of his hands on your back, the huge patch of your skin he was able to cover made him gulp audibly.
You were so tiny, next to him.
He was a huge man, and he knew that. Not just his height, but his overall build made even other men look small in comparison. While he usually considered it one of his greatest assets, a fantastic tool for intimidation, in this particular case, it planted a seed of worry in him.
It took some time for you not to shy away from his touch, not to flinch every time he leaned to you, his body covering whole line of your vision. And it took him even more time to learn how he should touch you and hold you, not to put too much force behind his caresses, not to make you bruise. And although the gentleness run in his bloodstream by now, he was still worried about the actual sex.
What if he scares you? His body completely covered your delicious curves without issue.
What if he overwhelms you? His stamina and eagerness matched his overall size.
What if he hurts you? The thought of your body unable to accommodate to his size made his blood run cold.
He looked at your body again, and he had to hold in a sigh. He loved your curves, the unbelievable softness of your skin, how warm you were. He felt his hunger increasing every day, every minute, every second he spend in your presence.
Yet he had to wait patiently, not wanting to scare you. He also knew that you were starting to get bolder with him day by day. He liked to think that it was just a matter of time until you will initiate something more, cover him with your soft embrace, let him melt in your warmth.
Because at the end of the day, his observations of your size difference not only filled his mind with fear, but also made his body tingle in all the right places. The arousal he felt knowing that he could manhandle you without any issue, cover your whole body entirely with his, shield you from the world and its coldnessâall consuming. The only thing he could think about.
You were tiny in his embrace.
But he could make it work. He will make it work so good.
How could he hurt you when he was so certain that you were made to be his? Two halves of a perfect soul.
His hand slid down to hug your waist and he pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. It made you giggle, you thought that it was his way of showing impatience. And it was, in a way. Just not the kind of impatience you assumed it was.
âAll set! I had some fun with the stickers, do you want to choose your own?â He looked at the screen and opened his mouth to deny, but one sticker did actually catch his attention. He clicked on the small dove and placed it in the bottom of the template, next to the various hearts you already decorated it with.
âThatâs you. The resemblance is almost striking.â He said making you laugh and you picked a sticker of some kind of a black bird.
âAnd thatâs you. They unfortunately donât have a crow one so this little fella has to work.â You placed the sticker close to the dove one, satisfied with your work.
âI get the vision. When Iâm squinting my eyes, I guess.â
You had four pictures taken, all accompanied by laughter and endless teasing. One where you kissed his cheek, one hand holding his jaw, his eyes closed and features relaxed. One where he pretended to bite your neck, your face caught in laughter. One where he rolled his eyes, reacting to your lame joke of getting rabies from his bite, as you placed your pointed fingers above his head, adoring him with imaginary horns, your mouth open in fake shock. And the last one, where you grabbed his face and kissed him, his gentle smile pressed against your mouth, a picture of joy that couldnât be restrained.
âI might have went kind of overboard with the stickers.â You said when you got your two copies of the pictures, four perfect rectangles inside a scarlet border, adorned with hearts, flowers and stars. Two adorable birds were at the very bottom of it, just below the date. Sylus looked at the pictures, and his heart seemed to grow bigger, the wave of emotions making him unable to utter even a simple word. âBut I think theyâre cute regardless! Itâs so nice to finally have a picture of us printed out. Iâm definitely going to frame mine.â You said and took out your phone to take a picture of it.
His thumb gently caressed the piece of paper, words still stuck in his throat.
It was the very first picture of you two together, and when he looked at it, he couldnât help but get emotional, knowing that he never expected to have someone like you in his life. Someone to cherish, to protect, to hold. Someone who reciprocated his feelings, someone who will never leave him, even if doomsday falls upon Linkon, even if the world crumbles.
âAre you okay, Sy? Youâve gone nonverbal again.â He felt your hand on his wrist, offering him a gentle squeeze. He finally looked at you, going out of the trace he was in, and saw your beautiful face laced with concern. He felt your hand going up and down his arm, caressing him in order to bring comfort.
âDid I?â He managed to choke out and hugged you to his chest, craving the closeness, not wanting you to see his slightly glistening eyes. He feared that the darkness of the night would not be enough to cover them, the lights from the fun fair only exaggerating his sudden surge of emotions. âTheyâre perfect. Thank you.â You hugged his torso tightly, your arms going up and down his back. You knew him well enough to realize he got emotional, but you were smart enough to let him savor his feelings in peace. If he was not comfortable showing you his tears, you had to understand itâthe knowledge of how much it meant to him already warming your heart.
âAnything for you, Sylus.â You repeated the same thing he said to you earlier, and he picked you up, still hugging you to himself, his face finding coverage in the crook of your neck.
âSly little thing.â He whispered and pressed a kiss there, drinking in the sound of your laugh and melting under the touch of your fingers, which stroked his hair affectionately.
Oh, how he couldnât wait to finally be yours completely.
ËâĄâËâżË°âĄ
Mesmerizing.
You, dancing in his room at two p.m to the new vinyl he bought, your hair down, arms up. Your eyes were closed and there was a small, relaxed smile playing on your lips, that seemed to grow bigger with each sway of your hips. You decided to wear the nightgown he got you some time ago, white lace caressing your body with a gentle flow of the shiny fabric.
He couldnât breathe. All air sucked out of his lungs the moment he turned around and saw you swaying to the music he picked out. A surge of want so intense came over him that he was afraid to move even an inchâhis body on fire, his mind filled with the visions of you, thoughts of you, and what you could be reduced to, enriched with under the touch of his hands.
If only he wasnât a coward.
âWill you join me?â you said over your shoulder, opening your eyes slightly, and you mustâve seen something unusual in his eyes, because your movements slowed down and a furrow appeared between your brows. He wanted to kiss it off instantly. âSy?â
You were so precious and delicate, a perfect opposite of his harsh exterior and even more barbaric interior. He waited so long, restrained himself for so much time, waiting for you to move firstânow, standing before you, the thought that you wanted him this way too pierced a hole in his heart and filled it with fear.
âForgive me. I cannot.â he answered, his voice coming out with a slight growl, that he couldnât contain anymore. He inhaled deeply and gritted his teeth, hoping that he was at least successful in not making his eye glow, his Evol suddenly unstable. He didnât want to know your desires, not when they were visible so clearly on your face nowâopenness and anticipation, ever since you went back from your date.
He hoped that shower would be able to calm you down, even though the warm and steady stream of the water didnât manage to help him this time around.
He was loosing his composure and he was loosing it fast. Weeks of this insatiable hunger, unrelenting need and dripping tension did that to him. He knew he was fighting a loosing battle ever since he laid his eyes on you today, looking so cozy in your oversized sweater, filling the air around him with your intoxicating scent.
He was ready to devour you months ago, the build up straining his muscles now, making him restless. He was a gonerâone wrong move and his previous patience and willingness for you to take the lead reducing to vapor.
âWhy? We always dance together to your vinyls, especially the new ones.â Your movements faltered to a stop, your magnificent face turned to him, with an expression so honest it made his heart clench painfully.
He thought of all the times you danced under the moonlight, soft notes of his favorite music floating through the air, your bodies moving to the rhythm, sometimes gracefully, some other times not so much. The feelings overwhelmed him even more drastically, his eyes closing for a moment.
It was enough time for you to close the distance, and soon he felt your cold hand pressing against his cheek, swiping the flesh with your thumb. He squeezed his eyelids shut tighter, the touch making his soul burn. You took his head in both of your hands, lowering it to face you.
âSylus, talk to me.â you said, tone worried. He could feel you standing on your tiptoes, wanting to bring your face closer to his. His body almost shaking with the need to hold you. âYouâre acting very unusual today. Is something wrong?â He exhaled the air he didnât know he was holding and opened his eyes. Your face was so close that he could see the shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. He could feel your breath, warm and inviting.
âI canât touch you now,â he managed to utter, his hands at his sides, struck in cruel stillness. He locked his eyes with yours, filled with worry and a comforting gentleness. You were always so gentle with him, it made him go insane. âBecause if I do, I wonât be able to hold back anymore.â
He saw the realization in the shift of your features as you fully grasped the meaning of his words. To his surprise, you took one of his hands in yours, and placed it on your cleavage, right over your beating heart, the rhythm beneath his palm fast but steady.
âThen donât. Why would you even want to hold back with me?â You answered, slightly breathless, a pleasurable tingling already setting deeply in your abdomen. You looked at his face, the redness of his cheeks nearly matching the color of his eyes, the look he gave you so desperate it turned your legs to cotton.
The sudden burst of happiness in your chest almost made you tremble, you had waited so long for him to finally claim you as his, and it seemed he had finally reached his limit.
âI donâtââ He stumbled upon his words, a reaction so different from his usual self-confident demeanor it made you crave to uncover more versions of him. All versions of him, every single one he was willing to show you. âI canât help but fear that I will hurt you. You are so soft, so breakable, it makes me nervous. Arenât you scared of me? OfâOf what I could do, to you?â The confession slipping out of him, and he grabbed your wrist in one hand, the other coming to rest on your back. He slowly brought you to him, pressing your bodies together. He heard your breath falter, and drank that sound in. Then donât â you had no idea what a hurricane you managed to stir inside him with just two simple words.
âSy. My sweet, caring gentleman.â He heard your answer, and felt your fingers caressing his under eyes gently, your eyes never leaving his. One of your fingers touched the wrinkle between his brows, smoothing the furrowed surface. âYou could never hurt me, even if you wanted to. Youâre so fixated on the knowledge what you can do, that youâre forgetting that youâve never even touched me hard enough to leave a bruise. No matter how much I wanted you to, sometimes.â
âYouââ
âIâm not scared of you, Sylus. I could never, and I will never be scared of you. Youâre the one with whom I feel the safest.â His hands started trembling, his patience thinning with every beautiful word from your lips. You were telling him things he didnât even know how desperately he wanted to hear. âAnd I want you. I want to finally feel you, all your roughness and sharp edges. I want all of it.â The sound of your breathing mingled with the soft tunes of the vinyl. The air thick with want.
Any second now, he could feel it in the shiver down his spine.
âAnd I want it now.â
Snap.
His resolve shattered as he pulled you into him, capturing your lips in a kiss so deep and desperate it left your legs trembling. He kissed you with raw intensity, his tongue exploring your mouth, drinking in every sound you made as his hands roamed your body, claiming every inch he could reach.
You felt him everywhere. Your thighs, hips, waist, your neck, hair and breastsâhe seemed to touch everything he was depriving himself of before. His hands huge, and although slightly rushed and trembling, still surprisingly gentle.
He lift you up, your legs straining his waist and he laid you down on his bed, not breaking the kiss for even a second, your breath his breath, your lips water to quench his thirst.
His head was spinning, and when he finally opened his eyes the sight before him alone made him lose his mind.
You were sprawled under him, your hair a wild mess, your lips swollen from the abundance of his kisses. Your eyes glistened, the look in them so full of trust and love, love so visible it nearly broke him in half.
âYouâre exquisite. Irresistible. Ethereal.â The praises slipped out of his tongue before he could stop them. The last bit of control fleeting with the touch of your impatient fingers, unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off of him in a matter of seconds. He couldnât even find it in himself to tease you for your impatience, not when his brain already turned into mush after touching your bare skin. âYou look as if youâre coated in frosting. My sweet girl, my most delectable little sin.â His eyes focused on your white dress, his hands not brave enough to let it slip off of you yet. He already feared the man he would become upon seeing you fully bared before him.
âSylusââ
âItâs unholy. How much I want you.â His lips traced a path from beneath your ear down to your neck, finding their place on your collarbones. âHow much I need you. The greed unexplainable, insatiable no matter how close I get to you. Itâs not enough. It will never be enough.â His eyes met yours in a silent question and you nodded quickly in permission, gulping audibly, your eyes drooping. He let his hands travel up your legs, grazing your inner thighs, swiping through your hips, his palms tracing the lace of your panties, making the hair on his body raise. He then swiped through your waist and finally, finally his hands rested on your breasts, where you wanted them from the very beginning.
His breath hitched as he looked down your body, noticing how his touch had already lifted the fabric of your dress, baring your legs and stomach. His body shielded you from the chill in the air.
He squeezed your breasts gently, fondling them in his hands, a low groan escaping his lipsâthe same ones which couldnât resist kissing your belly, anywhere he could reach, not even thinking about stopping his sensual kneading. It baffled him, how soft you were, how pliant under his touch. His hands, although taking so much of the space on your body didnât seem to make you nervous at allâevery single one of his touches you accepted with soft sights, low whines and a bitten lip. You trusted him, and he was drunk on that trust, wanted more, needed to see how far it could take him.
It quickly appeared that there was no limit to the things he could do to you, your whispers not only appreciative, but also encouraging. The uncontrollable thrusts of his hips against the duvet bordered on painful, the knowledge that he would have you in mere minutes making him unbearably hard. But he accepted the friction, your comfort mattered to him the most, and he wanted to take care of you properly.
âSylus. Sylus, more, please.â He heard your silent plea, and caught your eyes in his, and thatâs when he decided it was a time for you to drop the dress. He helped you out of it then licked the goosebumps forming between your breasts, each tiny dot on your skin making him awfully aware that this was it. Your beautiful form, completely bare, just for him to see, to worship.
âMy little gem.â He breathed out, his eyes drinking in your body, committing to his memory every dip and curve. âMy treasure.â He nearly growled, his mouth attached to your breast, licking and sucking on your nipple, moaning in the process. He wanted to devour you whole, to not leave a patch of skin untouched by his mouth. He thrived in the way you took hold of his head, your hands messing up his hair, caressing it when his tongue worshipped your breasts and nipples, drowning in their softness. He found his safe place.
âOh God IâI feel like Iâm floating, please donât stop.â He heard you breathe out, your chest heaving, your legs closing in an attempt to relieve the tension building inside you. âYouâre so good. So, so, so good, Sy.â He released one of your nipples with a pop, and stored the visual of your skin glistening with his saliva for later. He basked in your praise and pushed himself down, knowing exactly what he wanted to do next.
âYes? You want it, kitten? Say you do. Please. I need you to say it.â His voice groggy, laced with yearning so tangible it made your body shiver.
âYes. Yes, I do. Please, Sy. I waited so long for you.â Your words made his head spin, a smile spreading on his lips not flirtatious at all, just pure joy and contentment. He kissed your stomach and his hands once again swiped through your whole body. He raised on his forearms and caged your head between his arms, and then pressed a long, deep kiss on your mouth which quickly turned into another wave of heavy kisses. He wasnât hungry anymore.
He was ravenous.
âI need to prepare you first, sweetie.â He said to your mouth, his words immediately swallowed by your perfect lips. You whimpered and his grip on your arm tightened involuntarily, his hand playing with your hair. âI need to take my time with you, otherwise I wonât be able to fit. Youâre so tiny it scares me.â You nodded into the kiss and he smiled at you gently, and after pressing a kiss to your forehead, he went down.
And when he finally widened your legs, his mouth was on you instantly, making you moan, your legs clasping on his head reflexively. He grunted into your core, licking and sucking skillfully, guided entirely by pure need and his own instincts.
âYou taste so sweet.â It wasnât long before your legs were trembling and his fingers joined his mouth in an attempt to open you up a little more, to prepare you for whatâs to come. âYouâre dripping because of me.â He chuckled softly but deeply, chest filled with pride, and he licked your core once again, sucking at the sensitive bud. What he didnât expect was when he managed to fit one figer inside you, angling it upwards, your back suddenly raised from the bed, hands reaching to his chest, delicately pushing him away. A drowned out cry escaped your lips, the wetness between your tights increased, your plushy walls fluttered around his finger.
He made you come, and he instantly got addicted to it.
âYes. Yes. Just like that, beautifulâFuck.â With a swear word on his lips he wasted no time in slurping up your spent, his fingers from one, going up to two, then three. And when the only thing he could hear were your moans and whimpers, the taste of you imprinted on his tongue, the slide of his fingers smooth and slickâhe realized that you were ready for him.
He slowly withdrew from your pussy, pressing one last lingering kiss to your clit. As his fingers slipped out of you, he finally let himself to catch more than a glimpse of your face.
And it shattered him, how utterly ruined you looked. All flushed and heaving, skin glistening with sweat, eyes shining, filled with unshed tears.
He did that to you, and he couldnât be more proud of himself. He licked his fingers clean, savoring your taste, then he pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around your whole body. Your head dropped on his bicep, your breath labored.
âYou okay, kitten?â He asked gently, ignoring his painful erection, still stranded in the stiff fabric of his pants. His head pressed to your neck, and he inhaled the scent, licking off the droplets of sweat in the process. He couldnât get enough.
âYes. More than okay.â You answered, and he felt your hand wandering, trying to unbuckle his belt. His chest squeezed. âNeed you now. Please, SylusâŠâ
âYou donât have to beg. Iâll gladly give you my everything. All of me.â His hands left your body for a moment, swiftly taking off his pants, his mouth now kissing your cheeks and nose.
âI want to taste you, too.â You whispered to him shyly, and he grunted, closing his eyes, begging every deity to give him more patience. How he would love for your little mouth to envelop him, but he knew that the sight alone would be enough to make him undone.
âNext time, okay, sweetie? I cannot wait to be inside you.â You giggled and nodded, pressing a kiss to his nose, stroking his hair gently.
He shivered and hissed when he took off his underwear, letting himself out in the open. He was so hard it hurt, his hand going up and down his erection in an attempt to reduce the tension, even though he knew that the only one who could truly satisfy him was you.
âOh my god.â He heard your gasp, and noticed that you were looking at him, his body fully exposed, his cock heavy in his hand. âSylusâ Sy, it wonât fit. Thereâs no way thatââ He silenced you with a kiss, and swiped his hand through your core, gathering the slick and spreading it on his member. The smooth glide felt so good he lost himself in the feeling for a second, his tongue licking into your mouth, swallowing your gasps.
âShhh, I made sure to prepare you as well as I could. And I wonât hurt you, you said so yourself.â He said the last sentence into your lips, once again pressing a long kiss there. Then he kissed your cheek, and breathed hard against your neck, his one hand wrapped around your waist, holding you closer to him, and the other stroked his cock, guiding it to your entrance. When the tip touched you, he gritted his teeth and you gasped, the first contact electric. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers playing nervously with the hair at his nape.
He breathed heavily, the tip of his cock aligned perfectly with your entrance. âYou can take it, you were made for me. I will make it fit.â He let go of your waist and grabbed one of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and smiling gently at you, the anticipation making his body shake. âJust relax for me, will you? Can you do that, kitten?â You nodded and exhaled slowly, some tension getting out of your body. He pressed one last kiss to your forehead and intertwined your fingers with his.
âClose your eyes. I want you to feel me.â
âNo. I need to see you, Sy. Donât make me look away.â He chuckled and pressed his forehead against yours in a silent acceptance. He never wanted to take his eyes away from you too, your desires matching perfectly.
You were his soulmate, after all.
He pressed his erection to your opening and started to slip in, gently, unhurriedly, despite the desire to take you in one thrust of his hips. You opened your mouth in a painful moan, squeezing his hand, panic visible in your eyes. He hated that he was bringing you pain, but knew that it was inevitable, he saw how wide he was stretching you out. âItâs okay, sweetheart. Easy. Youâre doing so goodâŠâ He breathed out, his hand leaving his cock to hold your hip, the other going up and down your body in a comforting caress. âTaking me so well...â His voice hoarse, sweat dripping from his forehead from the strain of keeping himself under control. He managed to put the tip in, your pussy squeezing him, your heat making him shiver, the sensation the most pleasurable he ever felt. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm himself down.
âIt hurts, it reallyâit really hurts.â You whispered and he grunted, feeling you squeeze him harder, his length sliding into you deeper. He opened his eyes and lowered his body to get closer to your face, and placed a kiss between your eyebrows.
âI know, love. If you want to me stopââ He couldnât recognize his voice anymore.
âNo. Never. Please.â You kissed his brow, and send him a small smile. âIâI can take it. I was made for you, yeah?â
He huffed out a laugh, a whimper finding a way out at the same time.
âYou were. Mmhm. Good.â He slipped in further, his mouth opening wider. âGood girl. Just a little more.â And before he managed to stop the shivering of his body, he burrowed himself in your tight heat almost to the brim. You were not able to take all of him in yet, but it was nearly a perfect fit, the sight of you wrapped around him made him see red, a low moan slipping out of him, your whimpers the most magnificent tune he ever heard.
âIâm going to move now.â He said and you moaned, your head nodding frantically.
He started thrusting inside you, and he felt as if fireworks exploded inside him, the desire burning brightly, need finally calming down, his mind completely at ease. Your moans, whimpers, cute little âah,ah,ahâsâ making his whole body shiver, a smile finding its way onto his swollen lips. You felt so good below him, your warmth enveloping him fully, and he started to question if he truly was worthy of such a blessing.
He didnât care anymore. He had you, you wanted him and that was all that mattered now.
âYouâre so. fucking. tight. God.â He started moving faster to the accompaniment of your small encouragements, his hand holding onto yours. And when your legs wrapped around his hips, bringing him closer to you, he was gone.
He grabbed your waist and lifted up your butt, the pace and force of his thrusts intensifying, his grunts leaving his mouth freely, silent praises slipping from his lips every now and then. He couldnât stop now. Didnât want to stop.
âI wantâI want to stay inside you forever. I feelâAhâMmâlike Iâm melting.â He moaned and you felt his mouth on your body, kissing every patch of skin he was able to reach. You kept breathing out soft, quiet moans, tears filling your vision. âSo cute.â
You felt so good, the stretch now pleasurable, your body accepting him fully, every thrust welcome, each one anticipated.
And he could see that so clearly on your face, his mind calming, knowing that he was able to bring you pleasure. It made him feel better too, your lovely expressions making his blood pump faster, his hips thrust deeper, just to see and hear more tokens of your delight. He was addicted to you and your reactions, to the way you sang his name, the way your skin tasted and eyes glistened every time he managed to catch eye contact.
Time quickly went by when you were loosing yourselves in each other. The positions changed constantly, Sylus looking for and finding new ways to tip you over the edge, making sure you were completely satisfied. You encouraged him to leave some marks on you, and you made sure to repay the sentiment, scratching his back with your nails, and pressing hickies on his chestâhe already wished for the marks to stay there forever, and you assured him that youâll stay instead, making him jump on you once again, burying his head in your shoulder.
âSay my name, kitten. KeepâKeep saying my name.â He grunted, his hips unrelenting, your bodies soaked, your own so tired that he had to hold it in his arm for you to not slip off the bed. He kept thrusting inside you from behind, his lips pressing gentle kisses on your neck and shoulder, his movements deep and sensual, pleasure overwhelming. You granted his wish, your voice hoarse and quiet.
You were going at it for hours now, yet he still hasnât come.
Not because he couldnât, but because every time he was close, he was slipping out of you, his eyes squeezing shut, a hand gripping himself at the base.
He didnât want the night to end, refused to let you go, savored the feeling of being buried deep inside you, not knowing where you ended and he began.
âSyâMmmâSylusâAh.â The words failed you, your mind filled only with pleasure and thoughts of him. You were so tired and yet he made you feel so good you wanted to stay in his arms forever. âTheâAhâThe sun is rising.â
He nuzzled into your cheek, his thrusts slowing down, quiet grunts leaving his lips. He sounded wrecked.
âI know, love. You look so wonderful in this light.â He kissed your cheek and glued himself off of you, leaving your body cold and shivering. In the next second, he manhandled you onto your back again, facing him. Your hands immediately flew to cover your face, fearing how completely ruined you must have looked after so much time making love and so many orgasms ripped out of you.
âNoâMmhâDonât hide yourself from me.â He grunted, and took your hands in his gently, revealing the beautiful mess he managed to make of you. Your face covered in tears, cheeks flushed and lips so swollen it only made him want to kiss them some more. So he did. âNever hide yourself from me, dove. Hold me.â He kissed the palms of your hands and put them on his neck, your arms going to hold him closer. He huffed out a weak laugh, his thrusts not stopping even for a second. You felt his huge hands caressing your thighs and you moaned softly. âGod, Iâm sorry, kitten, I just canât stopâIââ
âItâs okay, SâSylus. AhâI wonât run away.â You pulled his head closer and kissed his lips softly. His hands encircled your waist, drawing your body closer to him, the hair on his forehead brushing against your chest. Your eyes met his and he seemed to calm slightly, your gaze soothing the flame inside him.
âI love you. Iââ You suddenly confessed, a single tear slipping down your cheek. His breath faltered, ruby eyes widening, your words shaking his world completely. âI love you, Sylus. So much. I love you so intensely it scares me, IâAhââ A moan was ripped from you when he suddenly picked up the pace, the sweat from his forehead landing between your breasts. Another happy tear slipped from your eye, and if you had enough energy to keep your eyes open, youâd see that he was teary-eyed too. His hands grabbed your head, turning it up so he could look straight into your eyesâhis own burning with desire and unspoken devotion. He needed to hear you say the words once more, but before he could start pleading for it, you managed to read his mind.
âI love you, Sylus.â
And those words were what finally made him shatter.
He came, so violently he nearly blacked out, his whole body trembling, and movements faltering, his cock buried inside you the deepest he could go. He released grunt after grunt, his arms holding you tight to him, your soft sighs only seemed to prolong his fall. He nuzzled his face up against your neck, then cheek, his lips touching your skin, unable to press more kisses due to the uncontrollable moans coming out of his mouth.
âF-Fuckââ He managed to choke out and you tried to calm your heavy breathing, focused on his cum filling you up, so much that you could already feel it spilling out. You whined and brought your hands to his waist, holding him close, and you came one last time too, your pussy squeezing him even tighter, ripping a short cry out of him. Goosebumps spread around your body from the pleasure and you went pliant in his arms, letting your sore muscles finally rest against the soft sheets.
Sylus relaxed a few moments later, his sweaty body collapsing on top of you, mindful not to put his full weight on you. His hot, heavy breath still warmed your neck, your hearts beating rapidly against each other, showing no signs of calming anytime soon. He managed to turn onto his side, his arms still wrapped around you, taking your body with him.
You were held in a wet, yet warm embrace, his arms protecting you from the cold morning air, your bodies still connected. The silence that ascended upon you comfortable and desired after so much time of intense workoutâboth throats roughed up and in need of hydration.
âSylus, Iââ You started saying, your voice a rough whisper, your head raising to meet his gaze, surprised that his crimson eyes were already studying you. He put one of his hands on the back of your head, his fingers playing with your hair ever so gently.
His gaze so intense you started to turn your head away, but he gently brought it back to him. He didnât have to open his mouth for you to understand what he was feelingâthe emotion in his eyes unmistakable.
âI love you, too.â He breathed out, his hand going up to your cheek, stroking it with the back of his fingers. His hand was cold and served as a delightful compress for your burning face. âI love you more than any words could ever express.â
He reminded you of a statue under this warm, morning light, his body perfectly sculpted. The only source of color were his cheeks, blaring red, nearly matching the color of his sparkling eyes. His wet hair still bearing the paths carved by your fingers, his lips kissed and twitching, fighting off a smile, which threatened to form when he realized how intensely you were observing him.
âMy home is your home, my heart is your heart. Every breath Iâve been taking ever since I met you had already been yours â the day you tell me to cease, I will gladly do so.â He continued, his breath slowly calming down, one of your hands going to stroke his chest.
âI will never tell you to cease, you little dramatic fool.â You answered playfully, blinking away your tears, your hand going to rest on his warm cheek, his face immediately nuzzling into your palm. âIf anything, I would curse you to live forever. Soundly and happily, by my side.â A soft laugh came out of his lips; a start of a smile that overtook his entire face, lightening up his features, showing off his small sharp canines.
âBy your side...â He repeated, his voice possessing a dream-like quality, a smirk still visible. He swiped his hand over your body: from your shoulder, through your waist, down to your hip, and then back up. His touch soothing as always. âA curse has never sounded so sweet, my little dove.â He closed his eyes, and a sigh escaped his lips. The happiness spread through his body so intensely, that he thought he was going to burst.
Live forever, by your side. There was no other place in the entire universe where he would rather be.
He felt you squirming, a crease appearing between your brows, your hand squeezing his bicep. He hissed, feeling you squeeze him down there too, his cock still buried deep inside you, your plush walls a place he never wanted to leave. However, he knew that after so much time and so many orgasms you needed a break, your body sensitive and in need of extensive pampering. Good thing he adored spoiling you with affection.
âIâm going to pull out now, okay sweetheart?â You nodded your head, a small smile on your lips. You were just too adorable. âAnd then Iâll put you in a warm bath, order your favorite meal and change the sheets. Any objections?â
âNone at all.â He switched your position so that he was once again on top of you, and he gently pulled out, a grunt leaving his lips at the loss of the comfortable fit. You whimpered when his cum started flowing out of you freely, and he couldnât look away, the sight making the desire in him burn once more. He stopped himself before he started showing the cum back inside you. âWill you join me in the bath too?â He looked at your face, covered in the warm sunlight, the sight making him breathless.
âI would love to, if thatâs what you want.â He hugged you to himself one more time, his body covering yours completely, his face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. He grazed the delicate skin with his teeth, then pressed his lips to your pulse, his tongue picking out to lick at your salty skin. âI love you.â He whispered into your neck, basking in the feeling of your heartbeat beneath his lips. âI love you, Y/N. Thank you for showing me what love feels like. Thank you for accepting me.â His breath started going out labored, the intensity of the emotion too big for his body.
âThank you, for letting me love you. You are the best thing that happened to me, Sylus. I hope you know that.â Your kiss to his temple and your hands caressing his back felt like a blessing, your bodies connected in a soul-crushing hug his own private oasis. Never in his life had he experienced such a moment of total tranquility; only you were capable of bringing him peace.
He never wanted to let you go, and he didnât have to. No other thought filled him with so much joy. You were his, just as much as he was yours. An ideal exchange of souls.
âI do.â He breathed out, and looked into your loving eyes once again. You smiled at him, and he felt his breath being punched out of him, his ruby eyes fluttering. He shook his head and reciprocated the smile, which quickly turned into a full laugh, your bodies shaking, hearts beating in unison. âI truly do.â
Your lips found his in a kiss that tasted like a promiseâof a hand to hold, body to warm up to, and a heart that beat for one another. In every life, every universe, and in every space and timeânow, and forevermore.
ËâĄâËâżË°⥠bonus! ËâĄâËâżË°âĄ
âSo which one finally did it?â You asked him nonchalantly, when you were both freshly washed up, lying on the new, pleasurably chilly sheets, basking in the afternoon sunlight. Too exhausted to raise, too happy to fall asleep after the whole night of making love.
His head on your chest stirred slightly, a confusion slowly overtaking his features.
âHmm?â He opened his eyes, but he didnât find it in himself to raise. His arms holding your body close to his, tightening their hold, a signal he hoped would make you continue the caress of his back with your fingers.
Your skin bared a fragrance of his soap and his skin, and he felt drunk ever since he noticed it.
âThe workout outfit a size too small? Or those jeans at the funfair?â You continued, and his mind started to connect the dots. His eyes widened. âI knew that I would be sticking my ass out a lot that day so I made sure they were extra tight.â He heard you giggle and raised his head immediately, his gaze falling on yours.
âYouââ
âWhat? You were making me wait forever! And donât get me wrongâŠâ You cupped his cheek, and he was rendered speechless. The whole time he was fighting for his sanity, trying to wait for you, restraining himself from taking you on the nearest piece of furniture â You were riling him up on purpose? âI love that you are a gentleman, and the princess treatment is really nice too, but I just couldnât wait to have you ravish me, you know? Your girl has needs.â
He was going completely insane. He let out a hearty laugh, and shook his head in disbelief. It seemed that he underestimated you again, forgot that your desires and needs matched his almost perfectly.
And he shouldâve known that the workout clothes were a bit too revealing for your liking. Fuck, he shouldâve known.
âAnd it seems my girl is a sly little vixen.â His voice laced with humor, a smile still visible, head impossibly light. He hummed, and kissed a smile off of your plump lips, then your neck, shoulders and chest. You started trembling, and the smile he send you this time made him look as if he was a wolf studying his pray. You gulped audibly. âWell then, if you decided to manipulate me, then I think you are ready to suffer the consequences.â His kisses reached your breasts, and he took one perky nipple into his mouth, sucking passionately. His other hand grabbed at the other boob, kneading the flesh languidly.
âBut itâs already bright outside, shouldnât weââ A press of his finger on your lips hushed you, and his eyes met yours, his lips still circled around your delicate nipple. With a snap of his fingers the curtains covered the windows, cutting of the only source of light. Darkness enveloped you, making the press of his body on yours even more intimate. Your body was still on fire after the hours of tangling in sheets, every part of you sensitive and tingling under his skilled hands.
âAh, ah. Youâre trembling. Why is that, I wonder?â You heard his voice closer to your ear, and when your eyes got used to the darkness, you saw his eyes filled with mirth and something primal. His hands went slowly up your tights, their destination obvious. âI had no idea that my kitten was that starved. Now I canât possibly leave her unsatisfied, can I?â
You felt his hands touch your warmest spot, and you let fireworks overtake you once more, your spine twisting to get closer to him. He tasted the skin on your chest again, and went down with his kisses, leaving a happy, wet trial in its wake. He raised suddenly, kissing you on the lips.
âAnd what about the zipper?â He asked absentmindedly into your lips, remembering the situation that nearly made him lose his mind couple of weeks ago.
âWhat zipper?â Your confusion truthful, your squeal loud when he suddenly plopped motionless on top of you, a sigh of exasperation leaving his mouth.
It seems that loving you was the beginning of his end, after all.
ËâĄâËâżË°âĄ
thank you for your time! ⥠PLEASE let me know if you liked it, i would appreciate every single comment and engagement!!! i would be so happy to read your reactions (ă ÂŽ Ë `)
likes would be much appreciated àŽŠà”àŽŠàŽż(Ë” âąÌ Ꭰ- Ë” ) â§
đ€đ· @stevesbipanic and @the-winged-doe asked to see ugly unpolished unrefined words, sooâ
cw & tags: past major character death, grief, attempted time-travel fix-it(s), eddie&robin besties || potential wip
Eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, the biting hot smoke hitting the back of his throat and clawing its way into his lungs, going as deep as he allows and leaving a permanent mark that brings neither relief nor calmness tonight. His fingers shake where theyâre pressed to his lips, but the rest of him is unmoving where he sits on the front porch of their new trailer.Â
Itâs quiet out here. Itâs always quiet in Hawkins these days, the city a fucking ghosttown.Â
And he knows itâs not because of the one they lost. He knows itâs not because of him. But still the emptiness is stark and the silence oppressivem more so than it ever has been.Â
Everyone still looks for him, months later. Dustin still begins to speak, cutting himself off mid-sentence, and Robin still stands with enough space to either side, like she expects him to just show up and invade her space like the home he made for himself in there.Â
And somewhere among all that is Eddie. With his very own history. Or, non-history, as it turns out. But history and non-history leave wounds alike, and the memories feel just as real. A small mercy, at the end of the day, for them to feel real when theyâre all he has left anymore.Â
He takes another drag, not quite exhaling before he obliterates the cigarette and fishes for a new one before the butt even hits the ground.Â
Fumbling with the lighter in his pocket, he only gets as far as placing the butt between his lips before a hand snakes into his field of vision to snag it from his mouth.Â
âHey,â he complains halfheartedly but makes no attempt at getting it back, watching instead as Robin comes up to sit beside him, grimacing at the stink of tobacco that must be heavy around him.Â
âYouâre disgusting,â she says with no real heat behind her words.
Eddie shrugs, because yeah, sure. Heâs been called worse things. Robinâs called him worse things. This is her being nice. Her complaininig about his incessant smoking is nothing new. What is new is what she does next, placing the cigarette between her own lips and reaching for the light heâs been holding in a loose grip since she arrived.Â
She starts coughing immediately, pulling a face at the disgusting feeling of smoke in her lungs and tobacco on her tongue. But she keeps going. Eddie can only watch in surprise and mild horror.Â
âThese thingsâll kill you,â he says then in an echo of her usual sentiment, aware that he sounds as bewildered as he feels.Â
âWell,â Robin says, aiming for casual, but quickly interrupted by a wheeze and a cough thatâs almost adorable. âLet them try.âÂ
Eddie huffs, a pale little smile lingering on his lips as he leans back against the stairs behind him, resting his weight on his forearm to watch her. There is something captivating about her. Eddie always wonders what it is, wants to study her forever.Â
Maybe itâs only the lingering traces of Everything Steve Harrington that clings to her every breath, her every move, her every fucking cell, with how much he was a part of her and she of him. Maybe itâs their shared grief that has made Eddie fall a bit in love with her and with the way the moonlight catches in her hair and in the smoke wafting from her cigarette.Â
But somehow he refuses to believe that all he loves about her is merely the memory of Steve.Â
Robin, in turn, is kind enough to let him stare. Kind enough to let him find out what it is between them. If this friendship is more than a misguided projection of grief and mourning and trauma; more than co-dependence and the obsessive will to keep this one person in your life. This one person who understands.Â
After a while of Robin just holding the cigarette between her fingers, becuase no matter how strong her will to self destruct, she never quite got it right with the smoking, Eddie snatches it back before it goes to waste completely. As if pulled in by a string attached to his hollowed out chest, Robin leans back and into him in one smooth motion. Itâs too calculated, though, and Eddie can feel how much she sags once she doesnât have to hold herself up anymore.Â
Heâll hold her. Itâs fine. She gets to rest if she wants to. God knows she needs it.Â
The night is warm for mid-September, but still Robin shakes against him. Eddie holds her closer.Â
Silence settles over them, and itâs not an easy one. Silence is never easy anymore, especially with them. He feels so deeply hollow that even the silence echoes in there, creating an ever-present, uncomfortable thrumming of apprehension and anxiety within him. A certain sense of doom, one that canât quite decide if itâs only an echo itself.Â
âI wanna stop time,â Robin says at last, the cigarette long dead between Eddieâs fingers, but he somehow canât bring himself to flick it away. âI donât want tomorrow.âÂ
I donât ever want a new day. I donât ever want another tomorrow. I just want Steve.Â
They ring in his head still, another echo that only hollows him out further every time it reaches him â Robin, overcome with hysterical grief, screaming and crying, curled up on that hospital floor, her cries quieting down and making Eddie wish she would be loud again, because the quiet was what killed him. The quiet, the whispered words, the declarations that tomorrow could go fuck itself if it came without Steve made him wish, irrationally, desperately, that their roles were reversed. That he could have died and Steve could have lived, and Robin would never have to wish tomorrow never came.Â
Heâs not entirely sure if she remembers the words, too. If she even said them in this world.Â
So he takes a deep breath, breathes away memories and non-histories, feels the heavy weight of his guitar pick hanging around his neck, resting on the scarred flesh of his chest, and tries not to think of the one string left on his acoustic guitar. Tries not to think of his one last attempt. One last try.Â
âI know,â he tells her. âMe neither.âÂ
He peers over her head, lifting his left wrist to check his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes until Steveâs birthday.Â
âItâs not tomorrow yet,â he tries lamely, and Robin huffs â the sound wet and bitter and hopeless, making Eddieâs eyes sting.Â
âItâs always fucking tomorrow,â she rasps, her voice flat and wavering, and Eddie knows her well enough to know sheâs about to cry. And she knows him well enough to do it.Â
âI know,â he says again, and reaches for his necklace through his shirt. One more attempt. One more try. One more chance. His eyes burn.Â
She turns to him after taking a moment to compose herself, peering up at him through her lashes.Â
âTell me again?âÂ
His heart falls, the tense apprehension vanishing from the air, bur quickly replaced by something a lot more heavy. Something that looks and smells and feels like grief.Â
They both know heâll do anything she asks. He canât really bear saying not to her. And not about this, anyway â sheâs the only one who knows.Â
Sheâs the one who should have had the chance.Â
âWhich part?â he asks, holding a new cigarette out for her to light it. She does, and the both follow the flame of the lighter Robin always keeps in her pocket these days.Â
She leans forward and takes a drag. Eddie lets her.Â
âAll of them.â
Eddie sighs, pain welling up inside him, and he closes his eyes against the night sky. âRobbie,â he pleads, but he doesnât finish his plea. Heâll do it. Heâll do anything she asks.Â
But before he starts recounting the tales of how he almost saved Steve Harrington, he finds himself saying something he never thought heâd tell her.Â
âThereâs one more.â The words hang in the air, and Robin doesnât react. Has no idea whatâs coming; what heâs about to tell her. The guitar pick is heavy on the necklace around his throat. âThereâs one more try. One more chance. Iâm⊠I have one moreââÂ
He canât even finish the sentence. Canât bring himself to say it, lest it all be jinxed forever. He doesnât want to hope. Wants to carry this weight for all eternity and never think about all those times he failed to save someone he was never meant to save at all. People like Eddie, theyâre not made to save anyone. Hell, they canât even save themselves.Â
Steve was supposed to be the one doing the saving.Â
And he did. God, he fucking did. But he was never supposed toâÂ
Cold fingers wrap around his own as Robin fits their hands together.Â
âI hate you a little bit for telling me.âÂ
Eddie nods, trying to focus on the cold hand and the nicotine in his lungs, trying not to let panic and grief and guilt and the heavy weight of one more chance win. âI know.âÂ
âHey, Eddie?â Robin says after a while, the silence stretching on, and itâs almost midnight now. âCan youâ Would you do something for me?âÂ
He turns his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette out into the darkness beyond them. âWhatâs that?âÂ
âDonâtâ Donât try to, to save him. Donâtâ Just⊠Just maybe, could you celebrate his birthday with him? Make sure he knows heâs⊠God, make sure he knows heâs loved? Last year, no one really made time on his birthday and we just moved it backwards but God, could youâ Itâs almost midnight, andââÂ
âRobbie,â Eddie interrupts her, his voice hoarse and wavering, his eyes burning with tears as he tugs her close and holds her to his chest. âYou should go. Donât you wannaâŠâÂ
But sheâs shaking her head against him with a vehemence that can hardly be misunderstood.Â
âNo,â she cries, and itâs more of a sob than anything. âI think if I ever saw him again, Iâd⊠I donât know what Iâd do. Burn the whole fucking world to the ground for him or some shit, I canâtâ Iâd probably just cry all the time and that wouldnât be helpful, really.â Thereâs a weak, wet laugh that bubbles out of both of them, and Eddieâs wiping at Robinâs face, drying the tears and making way for new ones to fall.Â
âIâd light a fire for you,â Eddie says, the same weak smile on his lips that Robin meets him with now. âNineteen fucking fires, you hear me?âÂ
She laughs again, then buries her face in his neck in a way that never quite fit. In a way that Eddie always knew was supposed to be someone elseâs neck.Â
But heâs not here anymore. And Eddie canât get him back. No matter how much he aches for it, no matter how much he learned over and over and over again how easy it is to love Steve Harrington and how hard, how fucking impossible it is to lose him. Over and over and over again.Â
And to live without him. This one fucking time they all get. Itâs not fair.Â
And now Robin is asking him to go back one more time and make sure that Steve knowsâ That he knows.Â
Somehow the thought of that feels nobler than any attempt to save him, to bring him back; to rewrite history from a lonely boyâs perspective and hope that no one else is reading along.Â
It feels right, too. Fundamentally and suddenly, and with such an intensity that Eddie knows the decision has been made the second he started telling her.Â
Still he hesitates. Robinâs sobs have calmed down, and Eddieâs hand finds its way into her hair.Â
âDo you really mean it?âÂ
She nods.
He nods, too, but slower. Like heâs trying to sway himself. Which way, he doesnât know.Â
âMake him happy.âÂ
âOkay,â he decides after a while, feeling hollow and desperate, but feeling purpose burning underneath his skin again. âOne last time.âÂ
He unwinds his arms from around her and heads inside to grab his acoustic guitar. The last remaining string, badly untuned because he never dared to touch it, stares back at him in both mockery and invitation. A dare. A chance. A promise.Â
Outside, Robin is waiting for him, looking anxious. Eddie wants to hug her. He doesnât, only tightens his grip around the guitarâs neck.Â
âListen, Eddie, if this is goodbye or somethingââÂ
âItâs a birthday party, Robsie,â he interrupts her, aiming for light, aiming for brave. âIâm coming back right here.âÂ
âI know,â she rushes to say, taking a step toward him and wringing her hands. Itâs endearing. Itâs genuine. Eddie really is a little in love with her. âBut, yâknow, you donât mess with time, and I donât know what all you already changed before and I donât wanna know but⊠If this is goodbye, if something happens, I just wanna tell you that Iâm gonna miss you. And that I think youâre really cool. And that Steveâsâ heâs really missing out, okay. Okay?âÂ
Eddie breathes, taking in her words and letting them soak into his body, his every last fibre.Â
âOkay,â he smiles. âThank you. Youâre⊠Iâm kind of in love with you, Robin Buckley. So there had better be no change in the universe, âcause that would really suck.âÂ
They smile at each other, Eddie with his guitar and Robin with her lighter, and somehow this feels like a deja-vu. The antithesis to a moment forever burned into his memory.
Make him pay.Â
Make him happy.Â
Eddie tugs on his necklace and plays the string before he can think about it too hard; before he can decide otherwise.Â
Distantly, he hears the church bells announcing midnight as the world around him fades.Â
đ€ permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @cryptic-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @bookworm0690 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)
Okay, I know the prompt list says I'm supposed to describe how I'd use the tropes in the same story, but I got.... carried away. I just really love outsider POV
Gladys hadnât been sure what to make of her new neighbors at first.
She didnât like the idea of them, to be certain: two young men living in the apartment across the way, who would probably come and go at all hours, noisy and inconsiderate as anything â especially the long-haired one sheâd spotted carrying a guitar case.
A month in, however, her initial assessment doesnât seem to have proven true; she does see them come and go at all hours, but they arenât noisy about it, and she hasnât heard any kind of raucous guitar playing. They seem to keep to themselves, and that suits Gladys just fine.
And then grocery day comes, and Gladys is trying to jog from the front door to the elevator before it closes, both arms loaded with bags. She spots her long-haired neighbor already in the elevator, and he spots her, and he holds the door for her before she can even call and ask him to.
He then offers to help with the bags, and Gladys unloads both of the heavy paper sacks on him with a relieved sigh; she tries to keep in shape, but she doesnât have the strength she did when she was younger, and her joints sometimes ache like mad.
âIâm Eddie, by the way,â the man says into the silence of the elevator as they ride up to the fourth floor. âI donât think we really introduced ourselves when we moved in, but I live across the hall from you.â
âI recognize you,â Gladys says. Then adds, âGladys Gaines.â
âWell, itâs nice to meet you officially, Miss Gladys,â Eddie says with a grin. âIâd offer to shake, but my hands are otherwise occupied.â
He shifts the grocery bags demonstratively, pretends for a moment that theyâre weighing him down, though heâd been having no trouble with them until then, and Gladys finds herself smiling. âNever mind that,â she says. âAnd itâs nice to meet you, too.â
Eddie helps her put the groceries away, and she finds him to be charming, in an animated sort of way, bursting with energy and humor.
The sink gives him pause, though, after he ducks beneath it to put away a bottle of dish detergent as directed. He watches it drip for several consecutive seconds before asking, âIs the faucet giving you trouble?â
âItâs been driving me up the wall for weeks,â Gladys huffs as she stashes a loaf of bread in the breadbox. âBut of course maintenance is taking their sweet time to get to it.â
âHuh. Yâknow, Steveâmy, uh, roommateâheâs pretty good at home repair stuff like this. I could get him to come take a look at it, if you want,â Eddie offers.
âIf he can get that awful drip to stop, Iâll be in your debt,â Gladys says.
Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at her. âMadam, thatâs a dangerous thing to declare.â
âOh, hush.â Gladys slaps at him with a dish towel, and the boy pretends to be mortally wounded.
Laughing, Gladys finds that she quite likes Eddie.
She likes Steve, too, when he shows up at her door the next afternoon with a bag of tools and a little wave âhello.â
âEddie said your faucet was leaking?â he offers. âOhâ Iâm Steve. From across the way.â
âI recognize you,â Gladys says, and she shows him to the kitchen.
Steve is a solid, steady presence that Gladys can imagine compliments Eddieâs high energy well; heâs boyish and sweet, but thereâs something sharper underneath that reminds Gladys of her own Averyâs cutting wit.
Gladys finds out from Steve that he and Eddie are from a tiny, rural town; theyâre new to city life, but theyâre enjoying it even in their adjustment period. Eddie works full time while Steve works part-time and attends classes â heâs hoping to become a guidance counselor.
âThatâs an unusual arrangement for roommates,â Gladys comments. âEddie doesnât mind taking on most of the bills?â
Itâs a bit of a prying questionârude, some might say, but Gladys doesnât see the point in getting old if youâre not allowed to be bluntâbut Steve only ducks his head and smiles.
âNo, Eddieâsâ heâs a great guy. Helping me out like this,â he says before turning back to the sink. âHere, try it now.â
Gladys turns the faucet on, then turns it back off, watching as the flow of water comes to a complete stop, not a drip to be seen.
âDear, youâre a miracle worker,â Gladys declares.
âIt was nothing,â Steve says.
He turns away to pack up his tools, but not quite quickly enough to hide the smile on his face â pleased but a little bashful, like he isnât used to being complimented like this. Itâs a nice smile, Gladys thinks, and both Steve and Eddie are nice boys. She decides that yes, she really does like them.
Offering to pay Steve for his services seems a little tawdry, so Gladys invites the boys over for dinner, instead. They end up staying well into the evening, talking and laughing with her. Steve eats up all the gossip about the other building tenants that Gladys can dish out, and Eddie eggs them on.
When they say that theyâll have to have her over for dinner next, Gladys braces herself for the worst: the apartment of two busy young bachelors, Lord have mercy.
Sheâs pleasantly surprised to find, then, that it isnât so bad at all. Itâs a bit clutteredâparticularly the desk shoved into the corner covered in graph paper and what appear to be tiny plastic figurinesâbut itâs quite clean.
After sheâs offered to help with dinner and been politely denied, Gladys spends time looking at the photos they have pinned up on the wall. There are over a dozen, a collage of smiles and laugher featuring the same cast of teenagers in varying stages of growth, often posing with Steve or Eddie. There are quite a few of just Steve and Eddie together mixed in, and Gladys is warmed to see two such good friends.
Steve does most of the cooking that evening, but Eddie is a capable sous chef, anticipating Steveâs every request before he can even voice what he needs.
âHey, can you hand me the, uhââ Steve snaps his fingers, searching for the word, and Eddie opens a drawer and presses a slotted spoon into Steveâs hand. âYeah, that.â
Eddie grins and goes back to cutting vegetables.
Dinner is nice.
It goes on like this â trading favors here and there, dinners at one apartment or the other, evenings spent talking and laughing. Gladys finds that Eddie is an excellent opponent when playing cards, and Steve shares her fondness for Murder She Wrote.
Gladys and Avery never did get around to having children. At first, they hadnât had the money, then they hadnât had the time, and eventually â well, it had been too late. Sheâs never really regretted itâher maternal instinct isnât a strong oneâbut she does find herself starting to think of these boys as hers. She even starts in on knitting some sweaters; the weather itâs getting cold, after all, and itâs the sort of thing you do when you want the people you care about to be protected from it.
It does strike Gladys as a little odd that she only ever sees them with each other; theyâre both attractive young men, after all, and she canât imagine why they donât seem to go on dates. Sheâs never seen two friends as content in each otherâs company as they are, but she supposes thatâs really all that matters â that theyâre content.
Things become clearer, however, one sleepless night months after the boys move in.
Insomnia isnât new to Gladys; sheâs dealt with it since she was young, and it seems like age has only increased the frequency of those nights she lies awake, staring at her bedroom ceiling.
Sheâs found her own ways of coping, over the years; sheâll fill the time with a good book or do some word puzzles or get some knitting in. If sheâs feeling particularly restless, she might clean the apartment or even bake something.
Sheâs just considering whether or not the boys would appreciate some cinnamon rolls come morning (and whether or not it would top that loaf of cinnamon raisin bread Steve had made last week, not that Gladys is keeping track) when she hears the very subject of her thoughts come giggling down the hall.
The boys arenât being loud, precisely, but they arenât quiet, either, and there are fewer sounds in the night to swallow up their noise.
They sound happy â they must have had a late night out, coming home a little goofy and tipsy, talking and laughing and then shushing each other as they come to a halt, sounding close enough that they must be outside their own door, just across and to the left of Gladysâ.
Thereâs a moment of indecision, and then Gladys is rising from her chair and crossing to the door. She feels a little silly, but the sight of a friendly face on a sleepless night can sometimes do wonders to soothe her nerves.
Sheâll just pop out and say hello, a fellow after-midnighter, and then let them go.
Sheâs barely opened her door, however, just catching a glimpse of the boys, when somethingâ unexpected happens.
Eddie is fumbling with his keys as Steve leans further and further into his space, and Gladys wonders if heâs drunker than he sounds, but thenâ
âHey,â Steve murmurs, waiting for Eddie to look up, and itâs all the warning Eddie gets before Steve is kissing him full on the mouth.
Eddie drops his keys entirely, but it isnât in shock so much as it is his apparent eagerness to get his hands on Steve, cupping his cheek in one and grabbing his hip with the other, pulling him closer.
This isnât drunken fumbling â it isnât even something new, Gladys realizes. The kiss is slow and gentle and lingering, the love in it so evident that for a moment an ache of longing, of missing Avery, rises up in Gladysâ chest.
Then, though heâd been the one to encourage the kiss, Eddie is the one to break it, and when he speaks, heâs properly quiet this time. Gladys can just barely hear him.
âSomeoneâs gonna see, baby.â
âLet âem,â Steve says, just as soft.
âSteveâŠâ
Steve sighs, pressing his forehead to Eddieâs. âI wish I could show you off. Tell everyone how much I love you.â
Eddie in spite of his own warning, holds Steve close for a moment longer, swaying him gently. âNo one else matters. I know you love me,â he says. âCome inside and show me how much?â
Gladyâs canât see Steveâs grin from this angle, but she can hear it when he says, âYeah. I can do that.â
Then Eddie gathers his keys from the floor and actually manages to get the door open, pulling Steve in and shutting it after them andâ
Well.
Gladys stands alone now, her door still cracked open, showing her the empty hallway, andâ
Well.
Actuallyâ well, actually, certain things make quite a bit more sense now.
âMy, uh, roommate,â indeed.
Gladys closes her door, wandering back towards her easy chair as she thinks.
The only thing that doesnât make sense is the two of them having the idea that they have to keep this from her. Utter nonsense.
Gladys will show them, though; her boysâand their secretâwill always be safe with her.
a fic inspired by this, because i could not stop thinking about it.
âWhatâs your name?â The girl whoâs name Eddie absolutely did not catch, yelled, while holding her microphone out to him.Â
âIâm, Eddie.â He yelled back at her, not quite sure if their yelling was necessary in their quiet corner of the room, but totally loving the chaos anyway.Â
âAre you single Eddie?â
âI am indeed.âÂ
âWould you like to change that?âÂ
That question was not hard to answer at all.Â
âAbsolutely.â
âGreat, because otherwise this would have been a very short video.â Eddie laughed much harder than he expected toâand oh shit he is much tipsier than he thought.Â
âSo whatâs your type then?âÂ
âYouâre gonna hate me,â Eddie sighed, knowing that what he was about to say was painfully contradictory, but hey, you can't blame a guy for having his taste in men be permanently altered by a guy he had a crush on when he was 20. âSo I like jocks⊠but like pretty boy jocks.âÂ
âPretty boy jocks?â
âYup.â
A smile grew on her face
âOh easy, give me like 5 minutes.â
And she really wasnât kidding when she said that.Â
Eddie had barely had enough time to get himself another drink when he heard his name being called behind him. He whipped his head around to seeâÂ
Holy shit
âHarrington?!âÂ
Steve Harrington stared at him with a look on his face that Eddie assumed was equally as shocked as his. But then heâs the first to move, pulling Eddie into an enthusiastic hug.Â
âEddie! Oh my god, it's been so long!âÂ
When Eddie is finally released from the hug enough to breathe he responds, âwhat are you doing here?âÂ
âA gay bar or Chicago?â Steve laughs.Â
And, oh yeah, Eddieâs stupid fucking crush. If the butterflies are anything to go by, thatâs still around.Â
Before Eddie can respond the girl cuts in, âIâm sorry, whatâs going on here?â
âWe- uh-â
âWeâre from the same town.â Steve fills in when Eddie cannot find the words to explain their fucked up found family situation.Â
The girl laughs, âwhat are the chances, jesus!â
âBut hey,â Steve smiles in a way that Eddie is sure cannont mean anything good for him, âAt least you got his type pretty dead on.â
âOh my god, I forgot I told you that.â Eddie groans and full body cringes. And Steve just laughs. A frustratingly lovely laugh.Â
âIâm not surprised you were very high.âÂ
Jesus fucking christ.
fuji apple @bitchysunflower - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag