#we’re staying friends in that way queers do

[skelavender]

actually kudos to my now ex for breaking up with me the week before taylor swift releases an album that shit is gonna HIT

[palms-upturned]

.

[blushweddinggowns]

Eddie threw an arm over Steve's shoulder, bringing him into a half-hug, “So, what did you guys think?”

“It was great!” Steve said quickly, relaxing into Eddie’s side, “You guys killed it, dude!”

“He’s right,” Robin agreed, “It was awesome! Super, duper fun and we’re so glad we got to see it. But actually, we kinda got to go-”

Eddie frowned, the loose grip he had over Steve’s shoulder tightening on it’s own accord, “Go where? Don’t tell me you guys are tired already?”

For some reason, Robin didn’t look at him after he asked the question. Instead she looked to Steve, a brow raised as she waited for something. But then Steve was giving her a subtle nod, her queue to start talking again. She leaned in closer, whispering as loud as she could in the noisy environment, “So… you’re like cool, right? Steve said you were cool.”

Eddie cocked his head at her, beyond confused, “I-yes? I guess?”

“About the thing?” She pressed, jerking her head his direction, “Steve’s thing?”

“Oh!” Eddie blurted, finally catching on. But he still didn’t get what Steve being gay had to do with them ditching. He nodded quickly, “Very cool with it. Have zero issues.”

It was almost true. Whatever issues Eddie had with Steve’s sexuality involved his own bullshit more than anything else. Plus, his answer had Robin smiling. Gesturing for Eddie to lean in closer, “Good. Because we, um. Share the affliction if you catch my drift.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie said, not missing a beat. He had kind of figured that out along the way. Considering the process of elimination on who could have possibly talked Steve through his queer thoughts. Not that Eddie cared, “No problem here.”

“Good!” She said with a grin, “Then you know just how limited our options are where we live. And according to an insanely pretty girl, there is an honest to god gay bar, like a few blocks away!”

Eddie swallowed, discomfort suddenly settling in at the suggestion, “T-That’s where you guys are going?”

“Yeah!” She said excitedly, setting her sights back onto Steve, “It’s time for someone to realize that we are hot enough to flirt and be flirted with! Closets don’t matter when you’re hours away from home.”

“We share the exact same closet,” Steve groaned, “Don’t start preaching to me.”

“And tonight we can escape from it!” Robin argued, “Come on! Eddie’s going to be busy with his friends and groupies anyway. What else are we doing-”

“I’m actually not that busy,” Eddie interrupted, trying his damndest to keep his voice calm. Suddenly, he felt nauseous again. He didn’t-He knew Steve could handle himself. He did. B-But creeps were everywhere! And he wasn’t used to being around guys who only wanted one thing and Robin would be distracted with girls a-and Eddie was really struggling with this idea.

Though Steve seemed to disagree. The next thing he knew, Steve was smiling back at her. Letting out a good-natured sigh, “Fine, fine! We can go. Someone has to make sure you don’t get kidnapped.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Robin nearly squealed, bouncing a little in her seat, “This is gonna be so fun!”

Eddie’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his his chest at the excitement, dread starting to fill him. He opened his mouth, words escaping before he could even think of it, “Sounds like you two might need a D.D. I can do it.”

It was probably the first time Eddie had ever invited himself to something he clearly wasn’t a part of. But he had to give himself some credit for how smoothly it came out. 

Robin looked up at him, clearly surprised, “Really? It’s not exactly your scene.”

Eddie shrugged, “It could be. I like George Michael.”

Steve snorted next to him, “That is the one true gay litmus test. You got us there.”

“Seriously though,” Eddie pressed, refusing to let it go, “Then you can both drink, dance, have fun. And not worry about how you’re getting back to the hotel.”

“But don’t you want to stay here?” Steve asked, “Robin wasn’t kidding about the groupies. You should have heard what some of them were saying.”

“You could definitely get laid,” Robin added. She was staring at him now, looking at Eddie in a way that seemed a little past confused. Like she was examining him. Testing him. Or maybe that was just in his head. 

Eddie held firm, “Maybe, but I’d rather hang out with you two vs playing wingman to the boys. What do you say?”

“If you really don’t mind…” Steve said, trailing off. But Eddie could tell that he was happy. He could barely keep his smile to himself as he looked to the side, biting his lip in a way that Eddie fucking knew other people would notice. How could they not? 

from the next chapter of this fic

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[httpsdrewstarkey]

idek what to request just want some drew and reader getting all domestic or maybe her writing a letter to him saying how proud she is of how much he’s accomplished 💗💗

Between Us || Drew Starkey

authors note: making my way through all my requests!! enjoy anon :)

warnings: none, just pure fluff

She sat in their shared apartment, the familiar quiet of the evening surrounding her. Drew had been sending her updates from Venice all night, keeping her close to him despite the miles between them. It was the premiere of Queer, and she could sense his excitement through every message. He told her about the red carpet, the lights, the people, and with each text, it felt like she was right there with him, living the moment by his side.

When morning came, her phone was filled with notifications—interviews, photos, videos of him from the premiere. She scrolled through them slowly, taking in every detail. He looked incredible, answering questions with ease. But it wasn’t just the way he spoke; it was the light in his eyes, the happiness that radiated from him. Seeing him so at ease, so confident, made her heart swell in a way that felt almost too much to hold. He had worked so hard to get to this moment, and there he was, shining.

She put her phone down for a moment and looked around their apartment, the space they had built together. It wasn’t just a place they lived—it was theirs. The photos of them on the wall, capturing memories of trips they’d taken and moments they’d shared. His clothes were hanging in the closet, his jackets mixed in with hers. The little details they had both added—like the plants they bought together, or the artwork they hung after fighting where everything should go—made this apartment feel like home. Their home.

As she looked at it all, all these memories began to flood her mind. She thought about the first time they met, how something in her just knew. Their first date, when time seemed to disappear, and they talked like they had known each other forever. The nervousness they both felt introducing each other to their families and friends, and how natural it all felt afterward like their lives had always been connected.

Her mind wandered to the quieter moments too—the late nights they spent together, him stressing about wanting to do well in his new movie, wanting to make everyone proud. She remembered the way he would stay up with her when she couldn’t sleep, or run her a bath after a long day, even when he was exhausted himself. They took care of each other in ways that were simple but meant everything. In those moments, it wasn’t just about love; it was about the life they were building together, every day.

And now, seeing him in those clips—standing tall, confident, and sure of himself—it made her so proud she could barely contain it. She was proud of the man he had become, but also of the man he had always been—the one who was kind, compassionate, and thoughtful.

With her heart full and her mind swirling with everything they had been through together, she sat down on the couch. She picked up a pen and paper, feeling the need to write it all down—the love, the pride, the memories. She wanted him to know just how much he meant to her, not just for what he had accomplished, but for how he loved her, how they took care of each other, and how they had built this life together.

Drew,

Sometimes I can't help but just stop and look at you, and it hits me all over again—how lucky I am to have you in my life. It’s like my heart swells to the point where I can barely hold it together. There are moments when I feel like I’m about to burst because of how much I love you. I can’t explain it fully, but it’s like you walk into a room or say something in that way you do, and I just think, “How did I get so lucky? How is this amazing person mine?”

It’s the little things. The way you pull me closer when we’re sitting on the couch, like you can’t help but want to be near me. The way you know exactly when I need a hug, or when I just need you to listen. Sometimes I catch you looking at me, and the softness in your eyes makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world that matters to you. And God, that feeling—that’s something I never want to let go of.

You have this way of making me feel safe, like nothing bad could ever touch me as long as you’re around. It’s not just about the big things you’ve accomplished, though I am so proud of you for everything you’ve done. It’s the way you do them—with so much heart. You’re relentless in your drive, but you never lose that kindness, that warmth. You’re the most determined person I know, but you’re also the most compassionate. It’s a rare combination, and I’m in awe of it every single day.

I don’t know if you realize how much of an impact you have on me, on the people around you. You’ve achieved so much, but even if none of that mattered—if it was just you and me, here, in this moment—I would still feel like the luckiest person alive. You make life better just by being in it.

I know you sometimes feel like you have to keep proving yourself, like there’s always more to do or to be, but to me, you’ve always been more than enough. You’re enough in the way you love, in the way you care, in the way you just are. I look at you and I don’t see someone who has to climb higher or achieve more. I see someone who has already given me the world just by being by my side.

I love you, Drew. More than words can really say. And I am endlessly proud of you—not just for what you’ve accomplished, but for who you are. You are my heart and soul, and I will never stop feeling lucky that you’re mine.

Love always, 

Y/N 

[tommykinard6]

Buddie fans, my loves, come have a seat for a moment.

I want to have a chat, from a long time Buddie lover to you, whether you’re new or have been here a long time.

It’s okay.

I’ve been in the trenches with you. I’ve been pulling for Buck and Eddie to get together for years. I haven’t given up, even as I’ve seen other fans leave because they lost hope. I don’t blame them. The Buddie section of the fandom has been powerful and beautiful and all consuming. We’ve gone seven seasons and up until this point, not one of the two men in question was even confirmed to be queer.

But we all need to take a moment and breathe. That’s it. Stop doom scrolling for a moment and breathe in.

Good. Now hold for a moment.

And breathe out.

I’m going to get real here, alright? And you might not like everything I say and that’s ok.

We need to stop being a problem. Stay with me. I’m not saying we need to stop shipping Eddie and Buck. Far from it. I will love that ship forever. I’m not saying we need to stop our fanfics or fanart or our love for these two. Our feelings are valid. Many of us have been in love with these two for a long time. The Buckley-Diaz family is a strong unit.

Our feelings are valid and we feel what we feel. But our reactions are utterly and entirely our own responsibility.

We need to stop the bullying.

Let’s face it, many Buddie fans have also been long time bullies in the fandom. Particularly in regard to the actresses who have played the female love interests in the past. Don’t get me wrong, aside from maybe Ali, I have disliked every love interest introduced. But have we not yet learned to separate actress from character? If we are going to dislike an actress, let’s do it for a valid reason. Marisol’s actress for example is problematic. But many fans have rained hell down upon any woman introduced.

I’ve noticed this issue for a long time. But now we’re dealing with the issue being even more widespread because of Buck/Tommy. Now fans are bullying each other. The fandom is divided, even in what is probably one of the better seasons we’ve gotten (in my opinion). I need you guys to stay with me here.

Buck is bi.

Let’s say that again. Evan Buckley is bisexual. A major character on a major show on a major network, previously a womanizer and still a very masculine figure, is queer.

This is monumental. This is amazing.

But so many of you are letting your feelings about Buddie get in the way of appreciating the progress we’ve made. Especially with the reintroduction of Tommy Kinard, Buck’s love interest.

Let’s clear up a couple of things, shall we? Tommy Kinard is not Sal DeLuca. He is not Captain Gerrard. While he was part of the old 118 and definitely was in the old boys club, not only is he not the major problem, but in most cases that he’s an asshole, it can be traced back to his own secret. It’s not great, sure. But let’s look at the facts. Chimney is friends and still keeps in touch with him. Hen appears to hold no animosity and was clearly comfortable with him. In Bobby Begins, they all are friends. And clearly, Tommy has undergone a massive self-growth period. You cannot try to back up your point with inaccurate facts.

People can change. People can also be forgiven. It’s the prerogative of those involved. Enough said.

“But TK6,” you may say, “Buck should be with Eddie! Tommy is a plot device!”

Let’s set aside instant gratification culture really quick and talk about storytelling. You cannot get everything you want when you want it. You also cannot have your cake and eat it too. Buck and Eddie, if both queer, were never going to come out at the same time. Do we really want that?! Because identity is messy. Self discovery is messy. Eddie has Catholic guilt. Buck has self esteem/worth issues. Life isn’t a fanfiction. The real possibility of their relationship surviving such a transition isn’t all that high. IF Eddie is canonically queer, he’s going to have a rougher path than Buck has had.

Also, everyone is a plot device. Let’s get real. If a character doesn’t move a plot along, what’s the point? YES, Tommy is there for a storyline. That doesn’t in anyway invalidate his existence or his presence in Buck’s life.

If you want an instant Buddie storyline, visit ao3! There are amazing stories on there.

Now let’s talk about Buck/Tommy, or TEvan.

I am a long time Buddie lover. I also proudly ship TEvan. Yes, those can coexist. I don’t often multiship, but it’s a beautiful thing. I want Buddie to be endgame, sure! But I’m also okay if TEvan lasts. If they end up being endgame, will I be disappointed about Buddie? Of course. I will also be thrilled because Buck and Tommy are a sweet couple and I’m here for it.

As a queer woman, I’m happy that Buck is bi. Multisexual representation is still sorely lacking. Male sexuality that lets a man keep his masculinity while being queer? Even more so. Just take a look at the ao3 tag. Buck is emasculated in many fics. That’s why I stopped reading a lot.

We have a ship here that includes two very masculine men, who are emotionally vulnerable and exploring something new. I understand ship disappointment. But the negativity is wild. We need to stop the bullying. We need to stop the cheating storylines. We need to stop making Tommy into an ab*s*r only because we apparently can’t handle a love interest being a good person.

At the end of the day, these are fictional characters. It’s a fictional show. But these are real people. All of us are sitting here behind our screens with real feelings. We need to stop.

Buddie may one day happen. And maybe they won’t. TEvan might be endgame. They might not be. Tis the way of 9-1-1. It’s exciting, isn’t it? Waiting for something new and exciting. It was starting to get a little stagnant.

As a queer person, I’m not trying to gatekeep anyone. However, we cannot sit here and say “stop queerbaiting us!!!!” (They weren’t, we’ve always had queer representation on 9-1-1) “give us more representation” and then when they give it to us say, “NO! Not that way!”

If it was about the representation, it being Eddie or Tommy would matter a lot less.

So if you are someone using representation to shield yourself, kindly just be honest with yourself and everyone else.

In the words of our Lady and Savior Taylor Swift, “You need to calm down”.

Now, back off into the world of scrolling you go, my lovelies. Remember, keep an open mind and breathe. At the end of the day, it’s a show. But I for one will happily wait for every episode because I’m loving this.

[unfinishedslurs]

bedsharing (future stobin lavender marriage) (steddie)

���Why do you have tampons in your bathroom?” Eddie asks, toweling off his hair. “Wouldn’t your mom just keep them in hers?”

“They’re Robin’s.”

He can feel Eddie’s eyes on the back of his neck, and turns around from where he’s hastily folding his clothes. He has another towel wrapped around his hips, and Steve’s gaze drifts there before snapping back up to his face. 

“What?” He asks.

“I thought you guys weren’t together.”

Steve sighs. “Just because I have tampons for when she stays over—“

“It’s just—why wouldn’t they be in the guest bathroom?”

“She stays in my room,” he says, and then realizes how that sounds. “Okay, yeah, but we’re not dating. That’s never gonna happen.”

“So you’re just hooking up?”

Steve instinctively makes a face, and Eddie’s eyebrows jut up. “No. I’m not her type, and even if I was, at this point that ball has left the court. I don’t like her like that, she definitely doesn’t like me like that, and next time Henderson tries to convince someone we’re soulmates I’m going to wring his little neck.”

“I thought you said you were soulmates.”

“Yeah, but not like that.”

“Just enough that she sleeps in your bed and has tampons in your bathroom, apparently.” Eddie bends over to wrap his hair in the towel, and Steve spends a long moment staring at the curve of his bare spine. 

“Hey, man,” he says belatedly. “We got caught off guard one time. I’m not doing that again.”

Two loads of laundry, and Robin had cried in anger and embarrassment. Steve of ‘83 would have found it disgusting. Steve of now was a little grossed out, but also had been bled on in ways much worse than a period, so he just took her out to milkshakes and stocked up on enough supplies to last for a lifetime. After that, all bets were off when it came to the few boundaries they had left. 

Eddie grimaces in acknowledgment, grabbing the pair of sweatpants on the bed. Steve turns around before the towel drops, because years of locker room experience can’t possibly prepare him for seeing Eddie Munson’s naked ass. 

“So no dreams of a white wedding and gaggles of grandchildren running around?”

“I mean, we’ll probably get married at some point,” Steve says absently, fiddling with his bedspread to keep from turning around. He can have self control. He’s capable of not ogling his friends. “It’ll be safer that way.” Shit, why did he say that? He might as well hang a neon sign that says QUEER over his head. “Easier,” he corrects himself, knowing damn well it’s useless. 

There’s a thud and a groan, and Steve whirls around to see Eddie on the ground, halfway into his pants. 

“Are you okay?”

“So you’re not together, and you’re not hooking up, but you’ll get married?” Eddie demands from the floor, wiggling into his sweats. “And…what? Have a loveless, sexless marriage? Because it’s easy?”

“Just because the love isn’t romantic doesn’t mean our marriage would be loveless,” he protests, mind whirling with excuses he can’t use. Why did he open his big mouth? Why couldn’t he have just said anything else?

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, man,” he shrugs, trying to get his heartbeat under control. “We’re already going to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well get some legal benefits out of it.”

“Sure, sure,” Eddie laughs, disbelieving. “Getting married for legal benefits and safety. Harrington, if I didn’t know better, I’d say this sounds like—“

“Sounds like what?” Steve cuts through what Eddie was about to say. He doesn’t know what it is, but there’s a bone-deep certainty that Eddie will end up on the truth if he keeps talking. “Are you coming to bed or not, man?”

Eddie falls silent in the middle of standing up, dark eyes pinning Steve to the spot. He knows, Steve thinks, and tries not to picture what Robin would say if he got another concussion. He hasn’t confirmed anything, and Eddie seems like a good guy, maybe even their kind of guy, but if he’s wrong then he’d better grab Robin fast and get the hell out of dodge. Dustin might forgive him eventually, if he knew the reason why.

The silence is getting unbearable. 

“Yeah, alright,” Eddie finally shrugs. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I want the left side.”

“You asshole,” Steve hisses, pretending the relief in his chest isn’t damn near killing him. “You know that’s the side I sleep on.”

[stardustbuck]

im a multishipper. i ship buddie and bucktommy. but if im being honest one side is being incredibly more hateful and toxic than the other side. (aka the one thats been around longer) maybe i’ve taken off my rose-colored shipping glasses, but seeing ppl make hate posts abt tommy/lou gives me the ick. it makes me actually realize why oliver left twt. bitterness will get you nowhere. if buddie is meant to happen then it’ll happen. you cannot force it to happen. everything i’ve seen and read tells me buddie was more of a consideration pre-s5 than it is currently. and that fucking sucks but just because things aren’t going your way doesn’t mean you need to get on the internet and be a bully. it’s truly mind-boggling to see people so intense in their hate for a character that has righted his wrongs, who is now friends with the people he wronged, is well-liked among said characters and is now being a positive influence on buck’s newfound sexuality. their dynamic is also nothing new, pessimist/optimist ship dynamics have been around forever and it’s only a problem because it’s not eddie.

i would be happy for buddie to go canon as much as the next guy. getting buck canonically bisexual is mind-blowing enough in itself, i’m glad we’re witnessing it at all. if ryan doesn’t want to do buddie because he feels its important they stay friends then so be it. platonic friendships between a queer man and straight man are important, especially one that runs so deep like buck and eddie’s. sure, their friendship could be read as romantic throughout the show, but partly because oliver and ryan truly share a great chemistry on screen which helps lean into it but also because these shows are not written with an endgame in mind. 9-1-1 is very much a go with the flow show, and if bucktommy is where the show is flowing then that’s what is meant to be. invisible string theory isn’t because ppl think it was always planned from the beginning, it’s because it’s amazing how well buck and tommy becoming a couple comes together so perfectly out of pure coincidence.

we know buck was supposed to be made queer long ago. we also know maddie originally was brought in for eddie but was put with chimney instead. if tim minear hadn’t left after s4 i truly think buddie could have been already established by now, but unfortunately that isn’t how things work. perhaps the idea of tommy and eddie was pitched but ultimately ryan didn’t agree it would work for these character nor the story being told at the time. buck was already supposed to be queer, so turning it to tommy and buck instead makes total sense.

no one is saying you aren’t allowed to continue to ship buddie. most ships in the world are ships that have never gone canon. buddie is valid even if it’s non-canon. god knows i will continue to read and write for them and enjoy them whilst also enjoying buck and tommy together. the behavior i’ve been seeing though is just weird, especially from larger creators who i understand are very passionate for buddie, but it’s weird when you flip it into tommy/lou hate instead of just talking about buddie itself.

perhaps the theories will be true. we don’t know! maybe buck and tommy won’t last and buddie will be endgame. i’m happy either way because buck’s sexuality is so important for him and at the current state of the show eddie is absolutely not ready for anything romantic because he’s still grieving shannon to a point where he is not ready to move on romantically just yet and we’re literally shown this. even if buddie is happening, it is not happening by the season finale nor is it probably happening by the beginning of s8 considering the current storylines and where they’ll be at by the end of this season. lou probably isn’t going anywhere and from the looks of it, we’ll probably be bumped up into a semi-regular character in s8 like karen. he’s easy to write into the plot, he’s got connections to people and emergencies outside of buck that would integrate him well into the plot. their romance is supposed to be “romcom” esque, they’re taking things slow but they’re obviously happy together at the moment.

im just really tired of the nasty attitudes ive been seeing. sure theres are som toxic people on both sides, but to me its obvious which side is being the bigger bully. reality checks needs to be put in place for some people, go outside and realize you are getting way too worked up over a tv show where plotlines are out of your control. if the show is ruined for you over one relationship then stop watching it.

[wenellyb]

Eddie Diaz is a white Latino. Did people learn nothing from the Pedro Pascal discourse? And does the fandom *not* remember that episode where the funeral protestor refuses to be tended by Hen and Chim, so he asks Eddie to give him care— fully seeing he’s white— until Eddie says his last name is Diaz and his father’s Mexican, but he can channel his mother’s Swedish heritage for the man’s comfort? White people are not members of the global majority, but they do live and exist outside Western Europe and the U.S. (like Mexico).

It’s so weird how parts of the fandom are making any positive reaction to a m/m relationship in this show (that isn’t their yaoi ‘buddie’ fanfiction) into something about loving to see white men kiss. Y’all would still be getting that with canon buddie! Y’all couldn’t even support Michael and Glenn (calling them “homewreckers”). Y’all constantly ignore Hen and Karen with your complaints of “queerbaiting.” Y’all also called TK & Carlos’ (911 Lone Star) relationship “toxic” because it began with sex and because y’all fanon Carlos as some aggressive control freak. Like… c’mon!

I don’t think anyone who is supportive of Buck’s new relationship is arguing that Tommy is perfect. He’s was a fucking dick to both Hen and Chim when they joined the 118. His “delivery man” comment to Chim was wildly unacceptable. No one has forgotten this. Yet both Hen and Chim are *NOW* good friends with him…? Why? He changed. And the show shows the audience this. They show that he developed a great camaraderie with Hen and Chim. They show how he— unlike Sal and Gerrard— shifted his behavior and worldview to accept, embrace, and enjoy change.

Tommy could have been Sal. He could have been Gerrard. He had a good working relationship with both men and both men encouraged bad behavior in the 118. Yet he didn’t. He stayed on and befriended Hen and Chim (when most of the other guys still refused). Because he chose to learn and change and open himself to people’s differences (which likely also helped him come to terms with his own “differences”).

Tommy’s arc is meant to show how someone can make amends, repair relationships, and become a better person (y’know… learn, grow, and reform himself). The general audience for this show is straight and white. They *need* to see white people changing and learning to be better. They *need* to see queer people coming into themselves. These are important story lines.

Fans like Buck and Tommy together because they like Buck and Tommy together, because they like what this means for them and what might happen going forward. That’s literally it. We’re all just overjoyed by having more queer representation, including Bi representation. That’s it.

But there are a lot of “buddie” shippers in people’s inboxes hating on Buck and Tommy together for no reason other than it stands in the way of their ideal porn fantasies (“buddie”). And they’re being weirdly queerphobic about it, too.

Hi Anon!!!! So much to unpack here. I'll post this and let anyone comment their thoughts because this is an interesting conversation.

I'll start by saying that it never occurred to me that Ryan Guzman was not White, until Bucktommy became more popular and some Buddie shippers said that Bucktommy shippers were preferring the White MM pairing and I was like "Hmm.... both Buddie and Bucktommy are White MM pairings"???? Like it never even occured to me.

I'm not here to debate Ryan Guzman's ethnicity, he knows that better than us, but as you mentionned people seem to forget that there are White latinos.

I should add that Americans will maybe have a different perspective but in Europe, there is racism, and there is also xenophobia both are bad, but not the same.

If I'm talking about someone who is White and Latino being a victim of prejudice, I would never say that they're victim of racism, I would say that he's victim of xenophobia.

Believe it or not there are a lot of Europeans are xenophobic but not racist and vice versa.

With that being said, I agree with the rest of your ask..

I love 911 Lone Star and watched 911 casually but I never got the Buddie shippers, especially the ones who said they shipped Buddie as a form of activism, or because there was a lack of Queer representation (which is true) but Henren are there, TK and Carlos are right there and it's the same franchise.

They never cared about Henren, they even erased them whenever they accused the show of Queerbaiting even thought it has several Queer characters.

I remember when they started complaining that Bucktommy had more fics that Henren after one kiss.... but never said anything about Buddie having over 20 000 fics after 6 years of nothing even thought Henren was canon.

A lot of their takes are rooted in hypocrisy, it's like they're taking all the arguments that have been thrown at them and throwing them back at Bucktommy shippers without even thinking about it.

It's very important to have discussion about fandom racism, because it's a huge issue especially in the biggest fandoms but I do feel like some of them are bringing the issue in bad faith. This discussion is so important but it needs to be had with the Bucktommy fandom AND the Buddie fandom. So far the Buddie shippers only want the Bucktommy shippers to have it.

Why don't they take a look at the mirror first and ask themselves why they never cared about a Black Lesbian couple when one of them was a Main Character. Why don't they ask themselves why a ship with 2 best friends has over 20000 fics and a canon ship that is TK and Carlos only have 7000.

And why do they find the weirdest excuses to hate on Carlos (as you said), who's clearly not White and never give him the same courtesy they give their fave White chatacters.

When Buddie shippers talk about fandom racism, all I can think is: the call is coming from inside the house.

[acre-of-wheat]

I know in this house we’re all about supporting Kit’s wrongs, but I do want to take some time to analyze another dear sword lesbian’s wrongs.

Our dearest Jade Claymore.

You’re telling me this face has done wrongs?

Sadly. Yes.

The High Aldwin

Elora disappears into the woods and Kit wants to set off to continue the mission. Jade has other feelings, and drops this statement about what they owe Elora. It’s an interesting moment, because only an episode ago it was, “where the princess goes, I go,” but Kit rides off alone.

I think Jade knows Kit well enough that she fully expected to catch up to her. To save face, Kit couldn’t turn around and go back, but she could certainly take her sweet time walking down the road.

Later on they discuss Elora’s inability to demonstrate magic, and Kit once again wants to keep moving forward to continuing the mission, and Jade has this to say.

This is just a straight up lie, girl! Sorsha’s last instruction to her is to stay with Kit, to guide her, to pull her back from the edge.

I think this is an intentional tactic from Jade though. Jade has very subtle ways that she manages to manipulate or instruct Kit. Because of their difference in station, their history together, and Kit’s stubbornness, direct conflict doesn’t really work. Jade’s weapon for influencing Kit is showing her disappointment in the princess or, in some cases, outright lying.

I think there is an important call back to this, in Children of the Wyrm, where Jade goes over the edge of the world not to save Airk, or for Elora or Sorsha, but just for Kit. Because for once love is more important than duty.

The Battle of the Slaughtered Lamb

The reveal that this relationship was orchestrated by Sorsha is a huge blow, but the last line here is the real betrayal. If Jade didn’t ever believe that Kit would be in a life or death situation, then all of Kit’s dreams, all of her plans and fantasies, were just that to Jade-- so much make believe.

I think we give Kit a lot of shit for her mistakes, but she does always apologize. It’s worth noting that there is no apology from Jade here.

Whispers of Nockmaar

Hmm, I can think of someone who could have used your backup about this about an hour ago...

The Wildwood

By far my favorite Jade wrong.

Kit is actually trying to negotiate a release-- and it probably would have worked too!-- and the typically so in control knight with her anger on a tight leash just can’t keep it together enough for it to work.

Love this for her. Get everyone killed, babe.

Prisoners of Skellin

This is not technically a wrong! But it is a type of betrayal for Kit that I think is worth discussing, because these two absolutely won’t.

The devastation.

What is most interesting about this is even though Jade is the one to bodily remove Kit from the tomb, Kit’s rage focuses solely on Elora. It’s Elora she blames for not reuniting with her father, it’s Elora she vents her frustration on.

I don’t think Kit is even capable of remaining angry at Jade, because for Kit, Jade is all she has, and she can’t risk chasing her away. When Jade tells her that she’s leaving for Galladoorn, Kit pitches a fit, but then comes to her with a kiss and a smile in the night. When Kit learns that Jade lied about her training, Kit avoids her for awhile, but all she says is, “I’m just glad you told me.”

So when Jade wraps her arms around her and drags her away from the father she’s been missing her whole life? That rage has to go somewhere else.

The Gales

We’re going all the way back to the beginning with the last one, because it is the only one I can’t defend Jade on. It’s not her accepting a place with the Shining Legion, or even picking the absolute worst time to tell her best friend that she’s leaving, it’s this.

For what, Jade? There is literally no more time left for Kit. Jade is consumed by her dedication to duty, to such an extent that she believes that extremely queer Kit should marry a man she doesn’t know, to have heirs she doesn’t want.

What are our responsibilities to those we lead? To our parents? To our loved ones? To ourselves?

Must we all give up something for what we believe in, or is love the most powerful force in the universe? What mantel from our parents is worth picking up, and which is worth running away from?

The show hasn’t answered all these questions yet, but I hope it has time to explore them, and I know that Jade will be an important part of that exploration.

[ninadove]

Well, guys, we’re finally doing it. After two years of being subscribed to the newsletter but never actually taking the time to read the god-damned e-mails, I am finally committing to reading Dracula Daily.

So I’m going to dump my thoughts here as if it were the AO3 comment section. Bear with me.

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

May 3rd

We start off very strongly with an excellent instance of food-as-a-metaphor for love:

“(Mem., get recipe for Mina.)” 🥺

From here, it only gets better:

“I did not sleep well, though my bed was comfortable enough, for I had all sorts of queer dreams (me too, Jonathan). There was a dog howling all night under my window, which may have had something to do with it; or it may have been the paprika (!!!), for I had to drink up all the water in my carafe, and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept and was wakened by the continuous knocking at my door, so I guess I must have been sleeping soundly then.

I had for breakfast MORE PAPRIKA —”

King of not learning from his mistakes!!! Love this for him!!! Also, excellent taste.

I had for breakfast more paprika, and a sort of porridge of maize flour which they said was "mamaliga," and egg-plant stuffed with forcemeat, a very excellent dish, which they call "impletata." (Mem., get recipe for this also.

AU in which Jonathan runs a culinary blog and weird paranormal stuff keeps making its way into his posts 🍝👻

My Friend.--Welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well to-night. At three to-morrow the diligence will start for Bukovina; a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and will bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one, and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land.

Your friend,

DRACULA.

Such a friendly gentleman 🥰 You know you can trust him from the way he declares his friendship twice in the same note 🥰 Which is a thing friends do 🥰

I absolutely love that the note starts and ends with these declarations. It feels like a trap… but surely our good friend Dracula could never…

Sleep well tonight… 🦇

Next >

[zootopiathingz]

If you really think about it, the ship where Alastor would be involved in that would most likely be canon so far would be Charlastor.

I mean, he despises Lucifer and sees Vox as not worth his time, so he's not gonna be throwing himself all over them anytime soon. Nearly everyone he interacts with besides the three women he's friends with, he's either indifferent, respectable or hostile to, but towards Charlie? This man has allowed her to touch him without permission, stated multiple times that he has faith in her beliefs and even handed her his source of power. Twice.

I'm aware he's doing all this with some underlying motive, but you can't deny he won't do all this for just anyone. I really can't imagine him all comfortably curled up in Angel's bed or getting handsy with Lucifer (He wipes his hands after touching him, man really doesn't like him at all). I support all ships with Alastor but if we're looking at this at a canon perspective, Alastor interacts with Charlie the most and will continue to interact with her as the show goes on, it's more possible to happen in a sense with Alastor.

Plus with all the romantic cues the show has (Unintentionally?) given so far, with the part where both Charlie and Alastor are laying on the heart shaped pillow but Charlie falls off the bed while Alastor remains on top off it, it seems that there could be a very small possibility that there might be an unrequited crush on Alastor's part.

Yeah, it's a stretch, but hey, he didn't have to lay in that bed. He could have stayed standing, looming over Charlie to show that he might be helping her but he still sees himself as above her and in control of the situation. But! Someone still animated him on that bed! They still animated him on that heart shaped pillow right beside Charlie! They didn't have to, but they still did and my minds still reeling after that fact.

No because you’re absolutely correct here.

Out of any of the characters in the series for Alastor to end up with, if he were to have a romantic subplot of any kind, it would be Charlie. They have the most potential together as a pairing and there have been so many little hints and visual cues that I’m honestly shocked that a romance plot isn’t where their relationship is going.

I genuinely cannot see Alastor ever engaging in anything romantic or physical with Vox or Lucifer in any way. And whenever I say that people like to excuse me of hating gay ships (which I clearly don’t. I am queer, and I love seeing queer ships that actually make sense and have good chemistry, and not just because they’re gay). It’s because he canonly hates men and is much kinder towards women—except for Vaggie lol. Yes, ship Alastor with whoever you want. It’s not my place to tell you if your ship is bad or not. I honestly don’t care because it’s your opinion and as long as you’re having fun with it, that’s all that matters!

But like anon is saying here, if we’re looking at it from a canon viewpoint, let’s think about it. Again, Alastor clearly doesn’t like men and can’t even be bothered to shake Lucifer’s hand without being disgusted. There have been three women who could be potential love interests. First is Mimzy, which I can see there may have been some flirtation here and there in the past, or even an unrequited crush on her part. But with her basically using him to get her out of trouble all the time, I can’t see them going beyond their on-and-off friendship. Then there’s Rosie, who he’s obviously very comfortable around and lets her touch and grab him as she pleases—which he wouldn’t let slide with any male characters in the show. And the Radiorose ship is cute I admit, but to me they’re a pair of gossip buddies who would maybe pretend to be in a relationship if needed, but otherwise their feelings don’t go any further than platonic.

And so that leaves us with Charlie. When I first watched the pilot I absolutely assumed they were going to have some kind of slow burn, not only because the idea of the princess of Hell and this feared Radio Demon falling for each other is so intriguing, but generally just the way they acted with each other. In like a span of eight minutes they were happily dancing together, with Alastor calling her one of a kind, tossing her around and making improvements to her dream hotel.

You can imagine how surprised I was when I found out they weren’t canon and weren’t going to be in the actual show. Like, I was legit going “🤨🤨🤨” and this was before I was even in the fandom lmao

And thank you so much for mentioning that scene in her bedroom because…

What is this. What do you mean the mfs making this show drew out this scene, carefully looked at every detail for the final product, and went “yup👍” if there wasn’t supposed to be something more going on here???

Like seriously if you’ve never watched this episode and you saw these two frames, what exactly would you assume is going on here? Be honest with me

But ya know, charlastor “isn’t canon” (so they say🙄) so the animators here were def trolling us lol

[simonexhaled]

ok so it seems like we have moved on from erik’s pov as his rumour has been revealed and dealt with and we’re now focusing on mathias and his rumour, and i have a few theories/opinions already.

mathias & erik — i’m not trying to defend erik here, but i do feel like his behaviour makes sense. he clearly liked what he had with mathias and to me the way he’s trying to reconnect and talk about the kiss shows that he doesn’t have an issue with mathias being a guy, and it was mathias that put distance between them in the first place while in the meantime erik, who doesn’t have many friends to begin with, ended up spending more time with felix. so, after all the trouble he went through when he last stood up for someone, how difficult it was to fit in and also the consequences of mathias ghosting him, he’d rather not take anyone’s side for now and stay away from trouble. that being said, even if may not be erik’s intention, his behaviour will inevitably hurt and perhaps confuse mathias, so when in ep 5 erik will confront him to maybe fix things, i think it may be mathias that will push him away once again.

mathias & felix — i always suspected that felix had feelings for his (ex) best friend, and that “what does he have that i don’t?” from last season solidified it for me and it actually surprises me that no one else seems to agree. if im right then we’re getting the usual homophobic bully is actually queer storyline (eyeroll), and since mathias chose erik over him, he’ll take out his anger on mathias while also putting more distance between him and erik. again, assuming my theory is correct, i wonder if in ep 7 thea will ask felix about mathias and that will be what’ll make him snap.

mathias & olivia — since mathias will basically end up alone, olivia will become his only friend and confidant. they’ll probably rely on each other a lot considering the shit they’ll both go through and the fact that they’ll live together BUT there’ll be a rift between the two in ep 10 (the synopsis kinda makes it sound like she’ll out him to his mum and i’d hate that) and mathias will end up even more heartbroken when his only friend will sleep with the guy he’s into.

so basically mathias will suffer throughout the entire fucking season :) i do have hope tho and if the show will get a s4 i expect mathias to get his happy ending then. after all, considering the type of show rykter is it just wouldn’t make sense for them to give us what we want immediately with no drama whatsoever.

[anonymous-dentist]

Quite frankly some of y’all are getting too parasocial again, especially with the ‘LGBTQSMP’ stuff. By y’all, I mean the fandom at large, but don’t think I haven’t seen some weird stuff on here too.

Last night on Quackity’s stream, one of the first donos called him a “fruit loop”. And like okay, whatever, that’s bad, but then I managed to find the dono’s twitter literally by accident going through my twitter feed and here’s their reason why they did it:

And that’s really fucking weird! You all see why this is weird, right? And all of the replies to the clip of the dono I found (where I found this person) were all in agreement that this was a funny and totally normal thing to do. But, as I’m sure everyone is aware, this is not, in fact, normal. It’s parasocial as fuck, and it’s weird at best and harassment at worst.

Donation etiquette posts are something that go around the fandom every couple of days, and for good reason. Some people are too goddamn parasocial. You don’t know these people, and they don’t know you. It’s like if you walk up to the cashier at McDonalds and call them a “fruit loop” because you saw her talking to another girl earlier. That’s fucked up. At best, it’s fucking weird to do. At worst, it’s outing/harassment. (Not that I think Quackity is queer or anything, that’s none of my business, and it’s not anyone else’s.)

I’ve seen some weird stuff on Twitter recently. Truthing, really, and that’s something parts of this fandom have struggled with for a really long time. But take this tweet by the same person as above as an example:

There’s a difference between jokes about “haha the qsmp is just a gay dating show and jaiden”, but some people are taking that way too literally. I’ve seen truthing on both the English side and Spanish side of the community recently, and you know that I’m not searching it out for the sake of drama because I don’t speak Spanish. I’ve seen multiple Spanish accounts on Twitter telling people to stop being weird in chat because it’s gotten to the point there that the mods are getting involved (I was watching Roier’s stream last night, and I’m pretty sure I saw this myself in chat.)

Jokes are fine. Fandom jokes are fine. But that’s where the jokes should stay- in the fandom. Yes, Quackity made a joke on day one stumbling over his words and “accidentally” calling everyone his boyfriends. Yes, the Spanish creators are a lot more chill with shipping content than the English ones. That doesn’t mean anything irl. Calling it the first bisexual smp is fine as a fandom joke, but people seem to be considering it truth when, as far as I’m aware, there’s only one actual bisexual on the server, and there’s, I believe, only two LGBTQ+ members. While the default shouldn’t be straight, it isn’t cool to just assume people’s identities, and especially not from what they do in minecraft roleplay. That’s called acting, not real life.

Truthing is dangerous. Anyone older than 16 probably remembers the way Markiplier and Jacksepticeye stopped interacting online entirely, and it’s because truthing and shipping actively damaged their friendship. Dan and Phil struggled with this, too, with them actually being gay but being unable to come out until years after they were popular because of all the truthing going on with them.

It’s dangerous! It’s weird as hell! Not everyone is dnf. Even if their boundaries don’t mention it specifically, it should be common sense not to openly speculate on a cc’s sexuality. It should be even more common sense not to call them a literal slur in their text-to-speech donos because you think it’s “telling the truth”. For a straight person, it’s just uncomfortable. For a queer person not out, it could be dangerous.

As a whole, the fandom has been behaving. We’re just under a week in as of today when I’m writing this, so I guess we’ll have to see what happens next. But please remember to be normal. These people aren’t your friends. You don’t know them. You barely even know their characters right now. So calm down and touch some grass before someone actually gets hurt.

[the-iceni-bitch]

Darling, You Killed Me

Relationship: rock god!Thor x college!male reader (eventual CEO!Carol Danvers x reader teased)

Words: ~4.6 k

Summary: Meeting your celebrity crush goes much better than you had planned.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m/m sex, m receiving blowjob, protected anal sex, maybe unrealistic size kink, multiple orgasms, feminization, minor degradation), male reader, tall reader, athletic reader, age gap, meet cute, SMUT! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: It’s pride y’all! This month I’m gonna be doing my best to celebrate all my fave queer couples and also introduce you guys to some new ones! And we are starting things out with perhaps the biggest bang possible by introducing you guys to rockstar Thor and all the goodness that comes with it.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

“”Wait, Yel!” You laughed a little louder than you normally would when the tiny blonde kept dragging you further forward through the crowd, still feeling a pleasant buzz from all the alcohol you had to drink before you arrived at the concert venue. “We’re missing Kate. And Wanda and Pietro.”

“They’re already at the front with Peter and Shawn.” Yelena squeezed your hand and grinned at you over her shoulder as she kept pulling you after her. “C’mon, spike. What good is having a giant for a friend if you don’t use your height to make people move out of my way?”

“Excuse me for being polite… sorry!” You shrugged uncomfortably when you bumped someone with your elbow, waving when you finally saw Kate bouncing on her toes with the rest of your group right by the stage. “Everyone is gonna hate me for blocking the view.”

“They’ll get over it.” She jumped to kiss you on the cheek then gave Kate a hug. “I’m so bummed Johnny couldn’t come but this is fucking amazing. Maybe we’ll get some spit on us.”

“You’re so weird.” Peter shook his head and beamed at Yelena as he leaned on Wanda’s shoulder. “But I’d let Fandral step on me, so what do I know?”

Everyone started to ramp up to debate who the hottest member of Aesir was, but then the stadium lights went down and the spotlights illuminated the stage and the crowd seemed to hold its breath.

Smoke filled the stage and a single, mournful note from a guitar wavered through the air at the same time the deep throb of a bass drum’s beat began and the crowd went fucking insane. Yel basically climbed you until her legs were wrapped around your waist and she was screaming in your ear when the shadows of five people appeared through the fog. Not that you minded, since you were whooping right along with her.

The guitar started to speed up and everyone got even louder when they recognized the opening notes of “Darling, You Killed Me.” Flashing lights lit up Sif first on the drums, a grin on her face as she spun her sticks through her fingers and winked at the crowd then started drilling out a heavy rhythm that you could feel in your chest. Next was Volstagg on bass, his thick red hair kept away from his face in a braid that swayed with his movements as he started plucking out a rhythm. Then came Hogun on keys, a soaring melody washing over everyone when he began to play. After Hogun, Fandral was illuminated, flicking a blonde curl out of his eyes with a toss of his head and beaming wickedly at the frenzied masses as he gave them a thoroughly dramatic strum of his guitar.

And then, finally, a trio of golden spotlights focused on the lonely mic in the middle of the stage and a sweet, low voice greeted the crowd as the god of a front runner for maybe the biggest band in the world was revealed to the crowd.

“Well, hello there New York. I’m Thor and this is Aesir. How are you all doing tonight?”

Judging from the absolutely wild and unhinged shrieks that filled the air, along with what you were pretty sure were several pairs of panties and a few bras, the answer to that question was insane and horny.

But who could blame them? Every single member of the band was like a god, mysterious and otherworldly and charming in all their leather and metal, with intricate braids in their hair and tattoos covering their skin. Just the chance to touch one of their boots had the throng of fans behind you pressing you into the stage until Yelena and Pietro gave them a pair of intimidating looks.

As gorgeous and unattainable as the rest of the band was, the main object of everyone’s attention and obsession was definitely the massive, built, gorgeous lead singer and guitarist, Thor. He was the only thing you could look at, that deep voice making you shiver and your dick get half hard every time his eyes seemed to focus on you.

Which was such a weird thought. He couldn’t see you. He couldn’t see anything with all those lights on him. You were just way too drunk and maybe a little moony from being this close to your biggest celebrity crush.

All through the rest of the show you just kept watching him, smiling like a goddamn lunatic until your cheeks ached. It was probably… no, it was definitely the best night of your life, with all of your friends who seem to be just as giddy as you. You all were smiling and shouting nonsense at each other that none of you could hear over the music and the screaming crowd until the lingering notes of the last song died out and the arena lights came back up.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit…” you were starting to freak out as you and your friends made your way backstage, squeezing Yel and Kates’ hands while they dragged you along and giving Shawn a nervous grin when the bodyguard unclipped the velvet rope and let your group past. “I’m gonna fucking throw up.”

“You’re not allowed to throw up unless it’s all over a rock god’s dick, spike.” Kate laughed when you spluttered as your face got unbearably warm. “Just enjoy yourself, make some memories to tide you over when you have to go back to writing your damn thesis on Monday.”

You shrugged uncomfortably but couldn’t say anything because all of a sudden they were there. More specifically, HE was there.

It felt like your tongue was too big for your mouth and your jaw was about to hit the floor as you just stood there dumbfounded while you watched the most famous people you’d ever seen in your life greet Yelena and ask about her sister like it was no big deal. You must’ve looked like a moron with your mouth hanging open, not even managing to get yourself even a little bit under control by the time Yel started to introduce everyone, you barely even registered it when she said your name.

“You’re lucky you even got to see him.” Yelena was still talking about you, but all you could focus on was the way Thor’s eyes were practically boring into yours before you dropped your gaze to the floor with a nervous titter. “Always so busy with grad school or volleyball practice, had to drag him here tonight.”

“Well we’re so happy you managed.” There was a very large hand pressed to the wall beside your face all of a sudden and it made your breath catch, just barely peeking through your lashes and trying not squeak when those same intense blue eyes were fixed on your face. “I would have been very disappointed if I hadn’t gotten to see your pretty friend, Belova. What do you want to drink, pretty boy?”

“Hmm?” Was he talking to you? Holy shit, he was… what was happening? “Um, beer is fine.”

“Beer it is.” Thor grabbed a newly filled cup out of Volstagg’s hand and ignored the bassist’s offended grunt as he handed it to you. “You’re quite tall.”

“Yeah…” you decided to stare at the bottom of your cup while you chugged its contents to try to settle your nerves, only vaguely aware of the conversation the rest of the group was having when Pietro let out a boisterous laugh.

“Did little Yelena tell you that I have always been particularly fond of tall boys?” The feeling of his fingers gripping your chin and tilting your face up until your eyes were level with his was making you practically vibrate.

“Nu-uh.” Words seemed to escape you at the moment when you saw his gaze drop to your mouth and licked his lips almost obscenely. You also may have dropped your cup.

“Well I do.” Oh shit, his thumb was tracing over your bottom lip and this could not be happening. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Yes! Yes he does!” Yelena and Kate almost tripped over each other when they rushed towards you and tried to shove you into your jacket before you could even think, beaming between you and the rockstar while your mouth worked silently and your eyes bugged out of your head. “Yes you do.”

All you could do was nod enthusiastically then almost swallow your tongue when Thor wrapped his massive arm around your shoulders and started guiding you towards the door, giving your friends a terrified look over your shoulder while they just gave you thumbs up then went back to talking to the rest of the band. Before you even knew what was happening you were outside waiting for the car to show up and looking at Thor with huge eyes as you struggled to come up with something to say.

You didn’t know what the fuck had come over you. You hadn’t even said a full sentence to the man and you were about to get into a towncar with him and let him fuck you… you didn’t even know where you were going. Oh, his home, he just told the driver to take him home, Jesus Christ. Good thing there was a minibar in the back, you needed something to settle yourself down so you could hopefully enjoy what was about to happen to you.

As soon as you had downed and tossed your second mini bottle of tequila his hand was loosely gripping your neck and he was pulling you towards him, his lips finding your ear and sucking on it while you just let out a truly pathetic sounding whimper as you gripped his shoulders. His breath was warm against your neck and the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your throat was insistent on your waist while he pressed your body against the passenger side door. He smelled like cigarette smoke and leather and clean sweat and you had never been more aroused in your entire life.

“You are so sweet for such a big boy.” He licked your jaw and purred when you flung one of your legs over his lap. “You ever sucked a god’s dick before, love?”

This was going to be the death of you. You were ready to sink to the floor right away and bury your face in his crotch while you humped his boot before choking on what you were sure was going to be the most magnificent cock you’d ever seen in your life. The opportunities for you to suck dick were few and far between. Every single date you had saw how big you were and just started calling you daddy and slobbering all over you. It wasn’t fair, you loved sucking cock.

Of course, if this was going to be your only chance to get in bed with a rock god, you were gonna make the absolute most of the opportunity.

“No.” You wound your arms around his neck and batted your eyelashes as you gave a lewd roll of your hips, feeling flushed from the alcohol and especially bold when he growled at you. “And I’m not gonna tonight unless you ask me real nice.”

He froze, blinking slowly as he stared at you and making you feel slightly panicky when he still didn’t say anything while you chewed on your lip. And then he laughed, a beautiful, warm, booming laugh that made him toss his head back and pull you closer while he squeezed your waist. That thunderous sound made you feel so fucking giddy you almost giggled when you buried your face in his neck, at least until he gripped your hair tight and yanked your head back so he could look you in the eyes.

“You sneaky little minx.” Thor grinned when you gasped as he smacked your ass, tutting when you tried to grind into his lap and pouted at him. “Made me think you were so sweet and shy and pliant. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You groaned when he bit your bottom lip and squirmed when you felt more blood rush to your dick. “You have to be sweet first.”

“Do I now?” Thor grabbed your ass again and jiggled it, growling while he bit along your jaw and licked your throat. “I usually save that for after.”

“Hmm, well I want it now.” The limo came to a stop and you kissed the tip of his nose before climbing out, groaning when his massive hand wrapped around your throat from behind and hit your ear. “Just say please, and maybe I’ll let you feel how tight I am.”

“Brat.” He laughed and swatted your ass again, shoving you into the elevator and beaming at you as he ran a hand through his golden hair. “Alright… please get on your fucking knees and suck my cock like a good boy.”

His voice had somehow gotten even lower and it made you shiver. Without even bothering to check in there were cameras you sank to your knees right in front of him and rubbed your cheek over his incredible bulge that held the promise of something truly monstrous. You were already drooling, your own cock throbbing and leaking as you undid his jeans as you kept looking up into his eyes. It was short work, his zipper coming down in a flash and then your hand reaching in and wrapping around him and…

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Yep, monstrous. “Fuck me.”

“Later.” Thor growled and grabbed the base of the flan python he had been hiding, slapping it against your cheeks until you opened your mouth wide and let him slide between your lips. “I told you to suck like a good boy.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, your tongue swirling around his velvety head while you hollowed your cheeks and used your hand to stroke his shaft. It was, without a doubt, the biggest dick you had ever had in your mouth. This was confirmed by the ache in your jaw and the way you gagged messily when he shoved his tip down your throat.

Thor hit the brake on the elevator so he could truly enjoy the sight of you on your knees, leaning on the wall and grinning down at you while you slobbered all over him. He groaned when you swallowed around him, reaching down with a deep chuckle and wrapping his hand around your throat so he could squeeze his cock even tighter. The feeling was absolute heaven, it was everything you needed. Your eyes fluttered closed when his hips met your face, your body going lax at the feeling of being used so thoroughly and completely.

“That’s fucking it.” Thor shoved you against the wall and braced his thick thighs on either side of your head, his fingers burying themselves in your hair so he could keep you in place while he fucked your throat in deep, slow strokes. “Oh, you love this shit, don’t you? Mouth off like a fucking brat and then turn into a dumb little baby as soon as you have a dick in your mouth. Bet you wish you could get shut up with cock all the time, don’t you pretty boy?”

As much as you tried to nod, you could barely move your head, not with him holding you tight and his massive cock filling your throat. So you just whined around him, drool dripping down your chin in thin strings and staining your shirt. It was getting harder to breathe, both from the enormous blockage of your airway and from the heady pleasure of finally getting what you so desperately needed.

“Ah, stay with me!” You started when he smacked your face, your cheeks heating up when he laughed richly at your eyelashes fluttering as he started moving just a little bit faster. “You don’t get to pass out yet, love. Now, swallow.”

That was the only warning you had before he was swelling in your mouth and then exploding down your throat. You swallowed as fast as you could, gagging and slurping and moaning while you struggled to suck down every thick and sticky drop he was giving you. It was impossible, though, there was so much. Thor chuckled when it leaked out of your lips around the base of his cock, mixing with your drool in a creamy mess that dripped onto the floor when he started the lift again.

When the doors opened you only had a moment to appreciate the beautiful penthouse apartment before he was dragging you to your feet and kissing you all over again. Your limbs felt too long for this, gangly and awkward when he should just be scooping you up in his arms. But he didn’t seem to mind, squeezing your waist and licking into your mouth while you whined with need.

“Please…” You whimpered when he shoved you into the bedroom and gave you a hickey on your jaw, licking your lips as his hands slipped under the edge of your shirt and touched your bare skin. “I want…”

“Begging like a little slut after giving me so much lip.” Thor nipped at your chin playfully before shoving you back, pushing his hair out of his eyes and strutting over to the bar cart on the other side of the room. “Now it’s your turn to be sweet. Strip for me.”

You opened your mouth to argue but something in the way he looked at you had you snapping your jaw closed again. He just shrugged when you narrowed your eyes, pouring himself a glass of vodka and looking at you expectantly while he leaned on the wall. If he wanted a show, you could give him a show.

Thor watched you pull your cum stained shirt over your head slowly, his eyes widening just slightly once your lean torso was revealed to him. It’s not like you didn’t know how you looked. You were an athlete, you spent a lot of time lifting weights and stretching and you were proud of your body. Especially now when the rock god of your dreams was watching you like he wanted to eat you. For just a second you thought about waiting to take off everything until he begged to see all of you, but you could still taste his cum at the back of your throat, and that blow job had gotten you all kinds of worked up.

Your cock smacked wetly against your abs when you’d removed your jeans and boxer briefs in one smooth motion, kicking them away so you were standing there completely bare while his eyes drank you in. His teeth dragged over his bottom lip while you just teased the head of your cock with your fingertips, his throat working visibly when he swallowed another mouthful of vodka before he growled at you in a husky voice.

“There’s lube in the bedside table.” He started sipping his drink again when you opened the drawer and gasped at the toys that greeted you. “Ah, those are for later. Put that ass in the air and open yourself up for me.”

“Fine.” You poured a little when you got on all fours on the bed, resting your cheek against the cool comforter and spreading your legs so your rock god could see your tight little hole winking at him as you spread the firm cheeks of your ass. “But I don’t like a lot of prep.”

That made him growl, the noise sending a vibration through your body even from across the room as you smeared lube all over your fingers. When your first finger slipped inside of your tiny asshole you couldn’t help but whine, slowly swirling it around and plunging it in and out while you did your best to make slutty noises. You could tell they were working, could hear his breath getting faster and heavier as you stretched your hole. The second finger made you gasp, a shiver running up your spine as you scissored yourself open as you heard the sounds of Thor getting undressed behind you.

“That’s enough. God, you really are a dangerous little minx.” Thor smacked your ass once before pressing kisses along your spine, reaching to grab a condom and rolling it over his length while you panted underneath him. “Gonna turn you inside out, boy.”

“No… just a sec.” You sat up and shoved him back, giggling when he gave you a look full of indignation at you pushing him away. “I wanna ride that fucking monster. Lemme feel it in my throat, please.”

“Fuck… dangerous.” His grin was splitting his face in half when he flopped back on the bed, a rich laugh shaking his chest when you scrambled on top of him and straddled his waist. “You’re a fucking show off. Alright, lemme see you work that boy pussy, love.”

Him calling your asshole your pussy had you clenching so hard you were worried all your prep might have been in vain, not that that was going to stop you. You looked into his sharp blue eyes as you reached behind you to grip his thick cock, your entire body shivering when you lined him up and started to slowly sink down on him. Just the tip had you practically seeing stars, a choked off sob escaping from you without your permission as you circled your hips to get used to the stretch. An inch at a time, you made sure to keep breathing deeply, scowling at him when he slapped you and told you to hurry it the fuck up as he didn’t have all night with everything he wanted to do to you.

“Son of a… motherfucker.” You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming when your ass finally nestled into the dip of his hips, your thighs trembling around his waist while he just looked up at yiu with a pleased smirk on his face.

“Look at you taking all of me, and with just two fingers’ prep.” Thor snapped his hips up and chuckled when you let out a gasp. “C’mon love, work that little cunt like the slut I know you are. You begged for this, now fucking take it.”

You might have called him an asshole, since he did give you ass a rather vicious slap, but you started moving. This… this was exactly what you wanted. He was hitting you right where you needed as you ride him, a sultry moan leaving your lips as you started to find a rhythm that made your eyes flutter. Before you knew it you were riding him in earnest, bouncing up and down on his cock wildly and tossing your head back so you could pant and whine as you braced your hands on his thighs. Your own cock was bouncing too, leaning pearly rivers of precum all over his abs that looked like they were sculpted from golden marble.

When his fist wrapped around your dick you screamed, shaking when your cum exploded out of you without warning and hit him in the face. You wanted to splutter out an apology but then he was sitting up and all you could do was squeal, gasping when he kissed you obscenely and made you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Messy fucking boy, knew you were a little slut.” You never thought you would love being called a whore and having your asshole called a pussy while you were full of dick, but here you were. Maybe it was because he had suck a warm smile on his face while he said everything. “We’re not even close to being done, love.”

“Yes… shit!” You cried out when his hands gripped your waist and he started moving you his own damn self, wrapping your arms around his thick neck and clenching your teeth as his cock completely rearranged your guts in the most delicious way. “Fuck my little pussy, make me fucking take it.”

“Yeah, there’s my dirty boy.” Thor sucked on your neck when you sobbed for him, groaning when he felt your dick getting hard as it rubbed against his stomach. “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, may just have to keep you as my slutty little pet, would you like that?”

“Yeah… mmhm.” You hiccuped when he licked your throat, your breath getting punched out of your lungs each time his thighs smacked against the curve of your ass. “Wanna be fucked all the time.”

“Know you do, baby, I’d take such good care of you.” He slapped your ass and nipped at your collarbone. “Make you so fucking stupid, just my dumb little baby.”

He kept talking like that, driving your body up and down on his cock like it took no effort at all even as you were covered in sweat. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but pressure started building in your balls and in your core and as soon as he told you to come you were doing it with a bitten off yelp. Thor grinned when it happened, kissing you again and shoving his tongue down your throat while your brain went to some sweet, fluffy place that you found you enjoyed very much.

Then you were on your back, somehow. You didn’t totally remember how you got there but when you looked up your rock god was leaning over you and grunting while he slammed his cock into your sensitive little hole, and that was a sight and sound you found you enjoyed very much. It was disappointing that I find that you didn’t have the strength to wrap your legs around his waist like you wanted, but he didn’t seem to mind and you were still getting the life fucked out of you so it only bothered you for a minute.

“Greedy fucking boy, what’s that, three?” Thor chuckled when a thin drool of cum leaked from the tip of your cock when you came again unbidden, groaning when you squeezed him even tighter and made his eyes roll back. “Yeah, Jesus fuck you’re good. Such a pretty little slut. Fuck, I can’t wIt to fuck yiu raw? Bet you love being full of cum.” He barked out a laugh when you nodded eagerly. “Knew it. Bet you’ll let me take whatever I want whenever I want, pretty thing. Oh my fucking god, this little pussy is so fucking tight. Shit… ah, fuck!”

Thor leaned down and bit your neck when he throbbed inside you, grunting while his hips stuttered against your ass and he filled the condom. You couldn’t take it anymore, the pleasure of having been used so thoroughly sending you to nirvana as you wailed and your poor cock twitched feebly against your abs while you blacked out. He kissed you when you just mumbled stupidly while your eyes rolled in your head, making sure he was very careful when he pulled out so he didn’t overwhelm you.

“That’s it, what a good boy.” Thor smiled when you purred in response and stretched your whole body, a look of absolute bliss on your face while you gave him a sloppy grin before he headed to the bathroom to fill the tub. “Oh yeah, think I’m definitely gonna have to keep you around. May even introduce you to Carol when she’s back in town.”

[fishbowlmysterioo]

Bali, Baby! Pt. 1 - Satoru/Suguru/Reader

credit for this incredible image here!

pairings: past!satoru x reader, suguru x reader, past!satoru x suguru

warning: overstimulation, edging, cheating (?), vaginal fingering, it's not really a warning but everyone is queer bc I'm queer and that's how it is

summary: your ridiculous ex has decided to drag you to vacation plans the two of you made in the past. what could possibly go wrong? well actually, just about everything now that you’ve hooked up with both your and Satoru's best friend Suguru the night before you leave for vacation. so what ELSE could possibly go wrong?

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48025003

“Two weeks?”

“Two weeks, Sugu, two fucking weeks!”

“And your flight leaves tomorrow?”

“And my flight leaves TOMORROW!”

Suguru’s in the middle of retying his hair when you suddenly shout, startling both him and the other guests here. The framed scribbles and crookedly hung paintings covering the walls make the small coffee shop you’re currently in seem that much smaller. It also kindly reminds you that they’re doing little to contain your outburst. 

You hear the slightest chuckle from Suguru as you look around the shop and take in the sight of forgettable and slightly annoyed faces glancing at you. As you raise your hand and nod awkwardly in some sort of apology at the frowning face, Suguru’s chuckles turn into full on laughter. Of course when your annoyed eyes meet his humored honeyed ones, he manages to seal his lips almost immediately into an amused yet quiet smile.

With the amount of stress you’ve been under lately, it’s no surprise that it’s dribbling out of you at the seams. The strenuous months, the neverending weeks, the exhausting days, came to a point meeting with one of your pickier clients. It was a meeting — an official integration signing — that you’d been working on for the better part of a year now and somehow, someway, you woke up late. 

As you were running late, clamoring onto the subway and fighting with a very orny elderly man, some random interns — now former interns — had deleted entire files that were in the middle of being backed up by IT. Files that pertained the client’s history, previous sales, all important information that impacted their place in the business. On top of running late, on top of fighting with the elderly, on top of important information disappearing into the ether, you also spilled coffee all over your favorite blouse. A large stain that definitely wouldn’t be coming out any time soon. 

In short, today was a nightmare.

And yet all of those events, all of those little disasters, couldn’t even begin to equate to what made today a day for the books. When you’d finally arrived at your office with your assistant not too far behind, Gojo Satoru was in the middle of your room with a mischievous grin you knew all too well. He was sitting on the edge of your desk, arms folded and legs spread wide. He’d ignored the coffee stain on your blouse, ignored the exhaustion in your eyes, and ignored your demanding of why he was here as he exclaimed, ”We’re going to Bora Bora, baby!”

It turns out the location is actually Bali, not Bora Bora, but the blinding light of Satoru’s excitement could not be dimmed by your correction and obvious annoyance. 

By now, the end of your workday, the series of small and big disasters have filled your mind. It feels weighted there as if your brain is wriggling under the weight of your responsibilities. But the longer you stay here, the longer you listen to Suguru laugh at your expense, the weight begins slowly and steadily lifting. With all of the stress from the previous months, weeks, days, you need to rant and rave more than ever. You need to rant and rave specifically to someone that knows Gojo Satoru inside and out. 

The annoying white-haired man had a way of getting under your skin that no one else could even come close to accomplishing. It’s not that you’re patient or impatient. You think you have an...average amount of patience that a person should have. There’s just something about Satoru that annoyed you more than the average person. His nonchalant way of talking, his uncaring attitude, something that made the flippant comments he made that much more irritating.

While people who didn’t know Satoru personally and only ever heard second-hand accounts insisted on you just ignoring him or cutting him off, you knew deep down that the idiot has good intentions. Afterall, you’ve known him better than anyone. He used to be a lot worse in high school. 

So the desire to complain about Satoru led you to someone who knows the two of you very well. Someone like Suguru who is just as kind and patient as Satoru is childish and impatient. 

The sigh you finally let out is a long steady gust of air that never seems to end. When it finally does, Suguru speaks up softly. “Hey, maybe it’s a good thing. When was the last time you actually took a vacation?” 

Large fingers coax and eventually pry at your small ones to loosen their vicious grip around your mug. As you release the thin ceramic and allow those fingers to stroke along the lengths of your hand, you think about the question.

It has been a while.

With adult life eating away at your sanity, you barely had any time for yourself now. Never mind time for your best friends and other close relationships. With how packed your schedule usually is, by the time you did have a break you couldn’t manage much more than keeping to yourself for the day. You were always too tired to hang out with co-workers or long-time friends; always too tired to entertain or be entertained by dates; always... too tired. 

The small blips of time you found between meetings and fancy events was spent rotting away in your bed while watching increasingly bizarre youtube videos in a neverending rabbit hole. This cycle was only broken if Satoru and Suguru managed to call as many times as was necessary to get you to answer the phone. Then the two of them would come over and crawl into bed with you, forcing you to get dressed and go outside or offering to rot away with you depending on just how bad their  day was.

Regardless of how busy they were in their own lives, Satoru and Suguru always seemed to have enough time for you when you were free. Even if Satoru had to break away to make important phone calls while the three of you were shopping or Suguru had to hold his phone over your head in bed and quickly answer emails between movie popcorn breaks. Of course, you tried to put in the same amount of effort, but they always insisted that you take your time.

Suguru especially would tell you to come to them when you had the time and energy to be there, without any sort of stress or worry. 

The problem is you’re always stressed or worried.

Finally, you offer a thoughtful,”Yeah, I guess it’s been a while.”

As you stare into the steaming beige liquid in your mug, you realize that Satoru’s random offer couldn’t have come at a better time. All of the stress weighing you down could wash away in an instant under the warm Bali sun and in the cerulean waters lapping at white sand. Everything you could ever need to reset your perspective and purpose in life could be there.

I t’s the perfect time, the perfect place, and the perfect getaway.

“But it’s so last minute,” you try anyway, even though your mind is somewhat decided,”there are so many things I have to handle at work. I can’t just leave for two weeks.”

Suguru’s thumb glides to the smooth skin of you palm, soothing the creases that have begun to unknowingly form on your forehead. Some of that tension that always seems to linger in your body, in unseen crevices that you can’t reach or see, releases into the air.

Suguru counters your doubt, your pessimism, immediately as he says firmly,”You have an incredibly capable assistant in Nobara. She can easily rearrange any meetings you have coming up. Your team is very skilled too and fully capable of handling your accounts for two weeks. Have a little more faith in them.” 

You’ve shaped your team so carefully and diligently over the years that even if you spontaneously blew up they’d be able to at least survive without you. Maybe Nobara, Inumaki, Panda (a strange nickname that stuck within the department), and others would have to ride your coatails and study old notes stashed away in your office, but they’d make it for at least a year before the higher ups noticed. 

As much as you hate it, Suguru’s words along with the loud and firm voice in the back of your head are starting to make a lot of sense. The idea of a vacation, of stiff colorful drinks and sun-heated skin, become more and more appealing with each stroke of Suguru’s thumb.

This form of encouragement is a lot more meaningful and maybe even slightly more dangerous than Satoru’s loud and irritating, ”Just take off! Who cares?”

With a roll of your eyes, you groan,”Fine, you got me there.” The slight admission has Suguru’s smile widening. Away from work, away from stupid meetings, away from the city for a couple of weeks. It’s nearly perfect.

But then it hits you. The reason for the added irritation today, the reason for the additional stress that’s been piled onto your shoulders, hits you like a freight train.

Gojo Satoru.

Two years ago, you and Satoru had gotten absolutely wasted. You don’t really remember how exactly the vacation was booked but after being chided by Satoru in your office some of the details had been filled in.

“So, we were both drunk.”

“Okay.”

“And you kept complaining about how you wanted to get away from everyone except me and be entirely alone.”

“I mean...sure okay. That sounds like me.”

“And you were sitting in your favorite chair so you were especially relaxed. Remember?”

Your mind flashes to a warm lighting in the impossibly large bedroom within Satoru’s loft. Your mind also reminds you of the fullness you felt between the hazy waves of too much wine and dizzying horiness. A large pale hand on your stomach, cupping the slight bulge in your tummy, and the feeling of Satoru’s broad chest against your back as you stared at the small phone screen.

“Maybe you were too busy cumming to reme—”

“Satoru!”

Nobara had shifted awkwardly at the comment, clearing her throat to remind Satoru that she was indeed still in the room.

“Anyway,” he grinned mischeviously,”I told you to pick anywhere in the world and I’d make Nanami book it. You picked Bali and we found the Ryomen Resort.”

“Because I wanted that special suite with the pretty tub.”

“Right and we made it for two years out because...?”

“That was the only time it was available.”

After the two of you broke up, your dream trip had been forgotten about entirely until now. At least for you anyway.

While Satoru claims he forgot to tell Nanami to cancel the reservations after the “disagreement” happened, he also claimed that he couldn’t cancel them now because they were paid in full; also something about being unable to change the name on the suite. It isn’t hard to believe that you don’t believe him in the slightest. 

It’s not that he has a tendency to lie or deceive, but the resistance behind not wanting to cancel didn’t make sense. Despite the ever-present silver spoon in his mouth, Satoru grew up with and developed impeccable organizational and management skills that were required to run his family’s conglomerate.

There’s no way that he would forget to cancel it and even if he somehow did, there was absolutely no way Nanami would forget. He was Satoru’s personal assistant for a reason. 

And even if they somehow both forgot, Gojo Satoru is disgustingly rich. He wouldn’t care about having to pay some stupid cancellation fee or just kissing the whole trip goodbye altogether. In fact, you have the ridiculous Ballon Bleu de Cartier “I’m sorry for killing your Monstera, Charlie, while you were away” watch and the “I totally didn’t mean to stand you up and then ask what are your plans for tonight I didn’t see your calls!” day trip to Paris to prove it.

So why would Satoru suddenly care about spending money now?

The whole thing reeks of ulterior motives and classic Gojo Satoru schemes. 

“But it’s Bali,” you insist, trying and failing to keep the whiny-twinge away,”with Satoru. I’m worried he’ll get the wrong idea.”

Suguru’s thumb stops its journey across your palm and sits heavily on your hand. When you look up at him, you swear you can see a flash of...something. It’s a sort of glint in his eye that disappears as soon as your gaze focuses completely on his.

“How long has it been again,” he asks, feigning ignorance,”a year?”

For a moment you genuinely think that Suguru doesn’t remember the year the two of his best friends barely spoke or saw each other without causing a scene. It was a disastrous year for you, but it was you . Suguru had his own life and friends outside of the drama between you and Satoru. But the way his honeyed brown eyes avoid yours, gives you answers you need.

Suguru does remember.

He remembers every moment of that year. 

Your breakup was immature and stupid.

It resulted in public fights that had the two of you storming off in different directions whenever you tried to talk it out. It resulted in angry phone calls and blocking and unblocking phone numbers. It resulted in obnoxious social media posts with blurred girls and boys in exotic places that were everything you weren’t. 

Satoru is immature. He’s always been and probably always will be. Although you know he’s immature and that everything he says should be taken with a grain of salt, Satoru also knows how to get under your skin. He knows how to drag you down in the muck to his level and make you just as angry, just as spiteful, as him.

You, on the otherhand, are mature enough to admit that you were also immature. 

It was as if seeing you go through life through retellings of coffee dates with Suguru, through prominent articles that his colleagues spoke of with your name written in neat letters at the bottom, and through social media posts from friendly gatherings and rooftop parties that Satoru was pointedly not inviting to; all of these things had somehow convinced him that you weren’t mourning the death of your relationship alongside him. 

The years of knowing each other inside and out made every fight, spat, and pointed post that much more painful. By the middle of it, even Suguru didn’t want to deal with either of you. He would avoid hanging out with either of you so he didn’t hear complaints. Although you can’t really confirm it, you’re also pretty sure that he left the country to go on tour and meet with clients; right after he said he needed space. 

The whole thing was messy, messier than you’d like to admit. 

But recently the two of you have started working on healing your relationship and trying to make everything better a little bit at a time. No, it would never go back to the way it is, but maybe it could be close.

Finally Suguru releases your hand altogether to take a sip from his own mug. The steam is gone now, leaving behind a rapidly cooling drink. He breathes his next question in the mug as if to hide it,”You think he’s been carrying a torch this entire time?”

All you can do is shrug and try to ignore the way your stomach flips and whirls at the stupid impossible not-true idea,”I dunno. It’s Satoru. You can never tell what he’s thinking.”

Your best friend hums and allows his gaze to drift towards the large window beside the two of you. He watches a city in motion, noting cars honking at each other in packed lanes and people huddled together on the sidewalk while others speed off to their destinations. His eyes flit up to the large skyscrapers watching over the flow of life in a city at dusk.

Sugaru takes another long sip before saying,”I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend now. If that makes you feel a little less awkward about the whole thing.”

The whirling and swirling of your stomach sinks just as rapidly as it began. 

“You know how he is,” he continues, setting the mug down and tilting his head slightly.

Satoru isn’t a player by any means, but he also isn’t that fond of relationships. He’s too work-focused to cultivate a serious relationship with anyone that isn’t just “let’s meet up at this time and get our rocks off”. As kind as he can be when he wants to be, Satoru always ends up jumping from one gorgeous person to the next with only desire and the urge to forget about work fueling his every move.

The second it gets difficult, the second those midnight calls start turning into mid-afternoon calls, Satoru cuts it off. 

“All too well,” you hum, taking a bite of the lonely croissant planted on the table in front of you. But even though he tries to keep things casual, Suguru did just use the word “girlfriend”. The idea wasn’t foreign. Satoru has had partners before, but once they demanded more of his time things tended to fall apart. But again...the word “girlfriend” was just used by his best friend. 

“Well,” Suguru starts, mischief and exciting lighting up his brown eyes,”Do you wanna see her?”

“Oh,” you grin as you begin rubbing your hands together,”You know I do.” The laugh Suguru lets out this time is melodic and calming, a cool salve on your frying nerves. He whips out his phone quickly and taps away at his phone with a light smile on his face.

As you wait for the evidence, you take the time to take another bite. Wiping off any stray crumbs on your face, you look about the small coffee shop in awe. It’s a hole in the wall that’s been a constant throughout all of your upbringings. The furniture has changed slightly throughout the years, along with pastry options and professional framed scribblings on the walls, but it’s remained mostly the same.

After school, the three of you would come here to grab coffee and loiter in a specific corner with a large blue-cushioned booth. You’re still not sure how it always remained open and available every day after school for all those years, but now you’re sure Yaga had something to do with it.

The three of you would pretend to do homework and listen to Satoru make ridiculous jokes and bribe you into doing his assignments. If it weren’t for Yaga owning the place, you all definitely would’ve been banned by now with the incredible way that Satoru’s voice carried throughout the small space. It’s a comfort being here and, now that you’re older, a privilege. 

“Think I got it,” Suguru mutters before flipping the phone to face you. 

When you take in the image on the small cracked screen in front of you, you’re actually a little shocked. Satoru doesn’t really post his partners and playthings. Sometimes there are snapshots of them in the background of his pictures, quick clips of their faces that you can’t really see. The clips could be one of his numerous friends or someone passing by in the background, nothing distinct to show that he was with them.

The vague nature of these posts is what Satoru prefers. At least that's what you initially thought. 

The potential partner is a lot lovelier than the others. In this picture their eyes are wide and their smile bright as they pose with Satoru’s arm firmly around them. Their bright blue hair is striking against the pale nature of their features, asymmetrical bangs pinned back with multi-colored clips. It looks like they’d just finished up a game of bowling.

A slight tap of your finger reveals a grey tab hanging on the blue-haired wonder’s clip that reads “Miwaaah”.

The last time he’d posted clear pictures like this was when the two of you were together. You remember the hearts within captions and the very noticeable different in likes between Satoru’s selfies and pictures with you. You also remember the day he deleted all of those photos. 

Suguru lies the phone on the table then so the two of you can continue tapping through pictures and profiles. A few more pictures of Satoru and Miwa in different places appear on his page. Oddly enough, the two of them seem very happy together. 

Well it shouldn’t be odd, should it?

The prospect of Satoru being happy and restored from all of the drama should make you happy, but it leaves you feeling weird instead. Rather than focus on the weird, the odd thoughts that begin to circle overhead before feasting on your brain, you focus on the confusion.

If Satoru had someone, why didn’t he just take Miwa to Bali? He’d probably gladly pay whatever fee came with changing the reservations so why didn’t he just change it and take them?

“If Satoru is dating her then clearly—”

“Them.”

“What?”

“If Satoru is dating them. Their pronouns are in their bio.”

“Oh. If Satoru is dating them then he’ll probably leave you alone. Maybe he’ll annoy the fuck out of you,” Suguru pauses briefly to relish in your small laugh,”but he knows when to quit. Clearly he’s preoccupied now anyway.”

As much as you want to believe that, you also know for a fact that Satoru has never learned when to quit. He never knew when to stop what he was doing or saying and simply listen to what someone else was trying to tell him. His habit led to many fights and situations where, if he had just listened, it would’ve ended okay. Even if Satoru didn’t try anything romantically, that wouldn’t stop him from bringing up old fights or bothering you on purpose.

A part of you knows this and even still, the idea of vacation is incredibly tempting. And hey, maybe you’re thinking of the old Satoru. The old Satoru wouldn’t have insisted on trying to get the coffee stain out of your blouse this morning instead of insisting on buying you another one. The old Satoru wouldn’t have even bothered coming to your office to invite you on this vacation to begin with. You find yourself nodding, more to yourself than Suguru, and leave it at that. Clearly there wouldn’t be any mixed signals or awkward moments because your ex has moved onto someone else.

______________

Suguru can safely say it’s almost like old times.

Almost.

The two of you talk about anything and everything, weaving between stupid co-workers, opinions on the latest trends, and drama with your other friends. He forgot how easy it is with you. Years of honesty, trust, and patience have led to smooth waters with the slightest of ripples. 

In that simplicity, Suguru doesn’t have to think when he speaks. His words flow freely through him along with phrases and secrets that only make sense to the two of you. Well, the three of you. 

The comfort that comes with being around you has been something Suguru has unknowingly been craving as of late. He’s so relaxed, so enchanted by your presence, that he almost forgets why you demanded to see him in the first place. As you spoke animatedly about a series you were watching, he feels the telltale signs of ominous churning in his stomach at the thought of why he’d been summoned today specifically.

Your relationship with Satoru would always be a small pebble rolling around a securely tied sneaker. While there were times where it didn’t bother him so much, there were also times where the discomfort couldn’t be ignored. It was an occasional annoyance that prodded at one’s flesh when they least expected it before rolling around the crevices of the encased fabric. Somehow that occasional annoyance that grew and shrunk went unexplained. 

When you and Satoru were together, Suguru managed to spend some time with the both of you. He was still included in group hang outs, still received numerous texts in your shared group chat, but the energy was different. Satoru was yours and you were his. There was no hiding behind potentially exaggerated gestures or intent behind words.

Your relationship was there, clear as day, in every kiss and touch that the two of you shared. Suguru was obviously, and sometimes painful, on the outside looking in. In all of your years of friendship, this relationship between the two of you was something that couldn’t be shared. During that period in time, the cuddles between the three of you weren’t the same. The energy had shifted in a way that left Suguru on the outside, alone in a way he’s never felt since knowing the two of you. The loneliness, the absence he felt, was too much.

So he distanced himself in the only way he knew how.

Suguru focused on his career as a tattoo artist to ignore the hollow feeling of loneliness he felt. He’d already had a bit of a cult following of loyal fans and other artists who admired his work, but it was then that he decided to get serious. He used this excuse of wanting to expand to you and Satoru, to his other friends that questioned why he’d been so down lately, and to himself, that he had seeds to plant in order to go further in his career. To make a longstanding name for himself. Suguru is brave enough to admit now that he needed the distraction, but he’s not exactly sure why he needed the distraction.

He still had plenty of friends other than you two. He knew logically that you both loved him as much as best friends could love each other.

So why had he been so upset?

And why do those feelings linger even now?

Time slips through his fingers faster than he’d like. By the time the two of you finish up at the coffee shop, waving Yaga goodbye and turning out onto the street to head home separately, Suguru realizes that he doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t understand why he has this random desire to suddenly stay with you as much as he can. He wants to make you laugh more, see you smile more, and see you relax more.

After only a couple of hours of being together, Suguru can already see the way you’ve relaxed while talking to him. He can already hear the tension seeping out of your voice as you talk more.

It’s been so long since the two of you broke up that Suguru got to spend time with the old you. The old you before dating and breaking up with Satoru. Before all the fighting and the drama, before Suguru cowardly ran away from whatever he’d been feeling; is still feeling.

He almost feels selfish for asking, but when you turn to part with him on the corner of Parker street, he finds himself pushing out a hurried,”Have you packed yet?”

It’s a dumb question.

You’d just been telling him about how exhausting work and this entire day was, but Suguru wants to hold onto this moment with you. This strange moment where he has this need, this want, to see you right now more than ever. 

“I haven’t,” you say thoughtful, and he’s thankful there isn’t a hint of annoyance,”fuck, I need to run to the store and grab so much stuff.”

“I can come with you,” he offers, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats,”need something to do anyway.”

Despite the laid-back appearance he’s trying to project over the desperation, Suguru’s heart aches a little when you look up at him with a soft smile,”Really?”

He’s pretty sure he has flash art to set up on his socials for an upcoming charity event. He knows he has clients that he needs to follow up with to confirm overseas sessions. Suguru has plenty of other things to do for his brand that are currently being put on hold, but somehow he’d rather watch you pick out clothes than do any of those things.

Suguru nods with a smile and lets you wrap your arm around his to turn in the direction of...whatever store you want to go to. The two of you begin your leisurely walk, your voice takes on a knowing tone as you say,”You actually have plenty to do.”

He lets the statement sit in the air. He won’t liet to you and deny that he doesn’t have a lot to do. It’s the truth and both of you know it. “Actually what is your flash for this month?” you ask again, nudging him. Maybe you think that the innocent pondering will help him get the most out of his time. Although he appreciates the gesture, Suguru doesn’t want to be bogged down with talks of work right now. So he shushes you before you can ask anymore questions. “If I’m coming with you,” he says calmly, peering down at you with pointed amused eyes,”we can’t talk about work.”

“Fiiiiine!”

__________________

An average Wednesday evening has left your favorite department store mostly empty. Despite the occasional droves of people wandering the aisles, the immense size of the store is nearly overwhelming. The endless variety of items in different shapes and sizes makes it almost impossible to actually find what you need. Maybe that’s why you like it so much, it allows you to pick up random things that you had no intention of buying. 

Just like old times, Suguru slowly strolls through aisles with a cart between two calloused fingers and watches your dart between sections to grab accessories, clothes, and shoes. On the way over here, you’d insisted that you only needed necessities. In reality, your cart quickly fills with items that weren’t even on the small list you insisted on going over with him just outside of the store.

Somehow everything currently in the cart is a “necessity”. 

Black platform shoes that you didn’t even really explain the reason for. Not that you need to. Dresses with unique colors and interesting designs that you looked skeptical of. Brightly lit Hawaiian shirts with eerie patterns of cowboy raccoons in various duels. You even managed to toss in several snacks that you might need on the trip to hold you over. 

Even though Suguru knows that those platform shoes will be tossed aside after three whiskey sours. Even though he knows that the linen pants you’ve picked out will look fantastic, but you’ll definitely be annoyed by the feeling of the fabric rubbing together. Even though he doesn’t mention that those snacks are won’t last you through the first few days or your vacation. Suguru enjoys this moment and everything that comes with it; including listening to you provide the pros and cons of buying a new tiny backpack that you definitely don’t need. 

Just like old times you grabbed more clothes and held them up to your frame before asking,”Do you like this on me?”

And, as always, before he could really respond or even form an opinion, you would toss it into the cart. “We’ll just see later. I’m almost done.” A statement you’d always mumble before rushing off to the next aisle.

Eventually, once the cart was nearly overflowing, the two of you made your way to the fitting rooms tucked into the very corner of the store. Suguru now sits on one of the hard plastic benches just outside of the row of stalls as he waits. The cart full of your potential things sits right next to your stall, surrounded by rejected clothing waiting patiently to be returned to their respective homes. With how slow the store currently is, the fitting room is empty. The only sounds hovering around the fitting room are the occasional rustling of clothes you’re take on and off and an old pop song from several years ago bumping through faded and even older speakers. 

As his fingers tap away at his touch keyboard, Suguru thinks over the client’s request he’s currently reading. As his fingers tap away at his touch keyboard, Suguru thinks over the client’s request he’s currently reading. A hyperrealistic version of La Danse by Carpeaux spread across the entirety of their back with no detail spared. It would be possible but with its immense size and the amount of shading it would need, it’d be well over a few days. Although it would take an obnoxious amount of time, the overall pay with tip included would be fantastic; nevermind the clout of completing such a piece of art.

But Suguru would have to be in the studio all day, potentially sleeping in the small room in the back just to save time on commuting; he would also have to squish this appointment between his regulars and the occasional walk-in. It’d be a hassle, but the work alone would be worth it.

As Suguru mulls over the details and starts to tap through his calendar to find availability, he hears the curtain rustle with a finality. When he looks up, you’re there and posing in a small romper. The fit of the romper pushes your chest slightly and cups your ass in a way anyone would be stupid and just wrong to deny is attractive. It’s divine and takes everything in him not to bark at the sight of it.

“Wow,” is all he offers as he waits for you to say something. Regardless of how good it looks on you, you’re probably gonna say that you hate it— “I hate it.”

“Why?” he asks, leaning back against the wall behind him and slipping his phone into his lap,”It looks great on you.”

You’ve always had a great body. Your curvy frame has been admired by many people, himself included, openly and in secret whe you thought they weren’t looking. For some reason though, you’re always so picky with your clothes. Even though everything looked great and continues to look great on you, you still have trouble with shopping overall. 

Suguru isn’t entirely sure where it comes from, but he tries to acknowledge the existence of your insecurities and emphasizes what he and the entire world sees. Beauty. You turn around for him and vaguely gesture behind yourself in exasperation. “Look at the back,” you insist,” it’s too tight.”

The pale green open legs of the romper fold just underneath the curve of your ass, accenting its plumpness. There isn’t any added padding or any false advertising to assist your rear. The thin romper only gloriously emphasizes what you naturally have on display. 

...Oh and the back was slightly open or something, Suguru isn’t entirely sure.

But can anyone really blame him? He’s currently too lost in trying to form words in his empty head.

Suguru is one of your best friends. He cares about you and wants you to feel as comfortable and happy as possible in whatever you’re wearing, but the sight alone of your twirling and posing in different directions slowly weakens his resolve. You arch and twist as you probably eye the mirror in your stall and it takes everything in him not to keep babbling about how hot you are.

 “I can’t tell,” you suddenly say with a huff,”do you like it?”

God, he loves it actually. 

“Yeah, I think it looks great, but do you like it?”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll get it but only for you okay?”

Suguru quickly and efficiently stomps down the flutter in his stomach that drifts lower the longer he looks at your ass. Really , he wonders, all for me?

“What did you say?”

You turn to him with a pout before forcing a smile on your face and he prays that you miss the way his eyes meet yours a little too slowly. “I said,” he grins, forcing confidence and calm into his voice,”Lucky me. Seriously though, if you don’t feel great in it then don’t get it.”

A huff of air passes between your lips before you walk back into the fitting rom and pull the curtain behind you closed. It continues on like this, you occasionally coming out with a new article of clothing for Suguru to give his genuine opinion on. There are a couple of “nos” which you completely agreed with, but also several “yeses” that made their way back into the cart. Between each wardrobe change and each inquiry for an honest opinion, Suguru continues to type away at emails and answer curious DMs about pricing and custom pieces. He can proudly say that he has most of his work done by the time you’re finishing up.

After divying up accessories, shoes, and most of your new clothes, all that remains is a short lilac “dress”. It’s a different style than you’re used to, but Suguru had insisted that there wasn’t any harm in trying it. Maybe it the scraps of fabric could be something that you really enjoyed. It’s only now, when you ask for his help, that Geto Suguru realizes just how big of a mistake he’s made. 

“Help,” you pout, doing your best to cover the swell of your chest. Ignoring the pesky loud insistent and horny devil that insists he should try to get any eyeful he can, Suguru’s hands hover over your form as he asks,”Uh...how?”

The “dress” is a mess of strings and short fabric that don’t really make sense. With the way its currently wrapped precariously around your frame, Suguru supposes that it’s not supposed to cover much. Soon the two of you begin working together on figuring out whatever this...mess is. You hold onto the two long string sat the top of the “dress” as Suguru fixes the pieces in the middle so they wrap around your waist appropriately now.

By the time you’re both done, you’re wearing the sluttiest dress he’s ever seen. A short skirt that shows a peek of your ass, a halter top that clings to your chest, strings in the middle that cross your frame, and a carefully tied bow around your neck that holds the “top” together. 

“It’s...” he begins to say, trying to find any words to describe the fabric other than lewd, slutty, or begging to be taken off.

“Ridiculous,” you finish for him with a laugh,”I can barely move in this thing.”

Suguru wonders if that’s the point of this thing, to hold or restrain whoever wore it into submission. To be easy access for whoever was in the room. 

“Maybe that’s the point.”

Instead of staring at him in disgust, you laugh and cup your chest through the fabric of your dress. By the twist in your face and the exaggerated pout on your lips, Suguru already recognizes the inside joke before his brain does. 

You whine, an ugly loud sort of moan falling from your open mouth and ask,”Isn’t that the point, daddy ?”

It’s a joke that all of you have done — and still do — for as long as Suguru can remember. The only difference between this time and the other thousand times you’ve done it is that you’ve never done it half naked before. As comical as the moan is and the way you cry again in a high-pitched voice,”Daddy” is, Suguru’s monkey brain decides that he loves this noise on you.

He loves how ridiculous this all is, but his brain wants to hear what you actually sound like when you’re about to cum. Maybe without the “Daddy” title, or maybe with,” he’s not entirely sure yet. 

“Cut it out,” he huffs, trying to stare at you with minimal interest and lust,”we should get out of here. They have to be closing soon.”

“Shit, you’re right. Should I put this back or just buy it?”

Suguru is too caught up in the moment to think about what he’s truly saying. With this lighting, with the inherent intimacy of a smaller room, he can see your nipples press against the fabric of your dress, practically begging to sit pretty in his mouth. He can see the way the lilac of the dress compliments the richness of your skin in a way that somehow elevated how beautiful it already looked day to day. It can’t just be the skimpy dress because he’s seen you in plenty; high school and college parties with ridiculous forever 21 dresses he’s never seen after the first couple of wears.

It can’t be the nearly unbearable joy at getting to spend time with you again after being away for a few weeks, business keeping him away from his friends. You’re too gorgeous right now and Suguru is too stupid to really think about what he’s saying before it’s out there for all of the world to hear.

“I like it,” Suguru says plainly,”but you can’t wear it out.”

For a moment, the raven-haired man wants to fall into the floor and let the concrete swallow him whole. Then, after that, Suguru wants the earth underneath the concrete to swallow him further until he’s in the center of everything, burning into nothing at the earth’s massive core.

Or — alternatively — maybe he could curse an angry and vengeful god who would smite him with the hottest stroke of lightning it could manage. Whatever’s easier. He’ll take anything over trying to explain his way out of this.

At least your voice has more than a hint of amusement when you ask,”Why?”

Why, indeed. You are definitely entitled to an answer, but Suguru is currently too afraid of scaring you with the truth. The truth is that he wants to be the only one to see you in this dress. The truth is that he wouldn’t even let you leave the hotel with this dress on, nevermind the fitting room of the store. The thought of eyes or hands that aren’t his own ogling and touching your frame makes searing annoyance burn away at him. Wracking his brain for some sort of logical answer that isn’t cave-man logic, Suguru spits out the first thing he can think.

“What if you get cold or something?”

Idiot.

You stare at him for a moment, amusement bringing a laugh out of you and confusion making your eyebrow quirk up as you say,”Uh, Sugu? It’s Bali.” Your smile widens at the very slight widening of realization in Suguru’s eyes and you continue with a knowing,”the weather is going to be gorgeous.”

There’s a brief moment where Suguru shrugs and flounders for any sort of answer he can think of. Anything that will keep this moment from getting too weird and too out of control. But then, it is getting weird and out of control isn’t it? He shrugs again when nothing comes to mind and your smile is now a rueful and curious grin.

Folding your arms across your chest, you take another step closer to him and ask,”Wanna try another excuse?”

“Fine,” Suguru sighs, snorting at the way your eyes light up,”I just don’t like it okay?”

“But why,” you draw out with a grin,”why don’t you like it? It’s because it looks bad right? Admit it.”

An offended shock travels through him as he listens to your declaration. Is that what you thought he was getting at? “Wait what?” he asks, just to be sure. You lean back against the wall behind you with a cool shrug.

“You say you love everything on me,” you continue,”to the point where it’s just unrealistic.”

“Unrealistic?”

“Yeah, you can’t love everything on me!”

“What if I do,” Suguru insists, mouth dipping into a frown,”what if I just like how everything looks on you?”

“Okay,” you smirk,”then what don’t you like about this dress?”

Suguru really hates how knowing and smug you look right now. He tries to laugh it off, tries to lighten everything and move on, but it comes out as a weak huff and a roll of his eyes. The more he thinks about what he could say to defuse the situation, the more honesty shines like a beacon. He can muddle the truth slightly. Maybe the slight nugget of truth will deter you from trying to seek a more concrete answer.

“As your bestfriend,” Suguru starts, wading through the waters carefully,”the dress is a little...much. What if someone tries to get a little handsy?” Just as you open your mouth to counter him, to insist that people will get handsy regardless of what anyone would be wearing because that’s just how some people were, Suguru comes into your space. You lean against the cold wall behind you as if to get a little space away from him, shuddering at the feeling of its coolness on your skin. 

Now he’s effectively caging you here, using his size to show you the feeling of being sort of subdued by an unwanted body. But Suguru is anything but unwanted. He smells the soft floral allure of your fading perfume from this angle. He can see the way your breath hitches at his closeness, the rising and falling of your chest stopping only for a second as you look up at him.

“So right now,” he continues, pulling one of the tight bands of string around your middle and letting it snap back against your skin,”if I was some asshole, any asshole, I’d be able to grab you anywhere.” A slight wince comes across your features at the feeling, but Suguru can also see the glitter of something in your eyes. A sort of glitter that sits heavily in your eyes, so heavily that your dark orbs do nothing to hide it. A glitter that Suguru has only seen directed at other people’s way. 

Your hand comes up to rest on his chest, not so subtly feeling the warm skin just beneath the black shirt,”Maybe that’s why I like it.” The laugh you allow to slip through is full of strain and tension, but Suguru doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t laugh along or try to add to your joke at all. Something is happening here, something that he definitely doesn’t want to end. 

Even though you try to laugh it off and force this moment to be lighthearted, the two of you know there’s nothing lighthearted about it. There’s no reason for Suguru’s concern about what you’re wearing and when you should be wearing it. There’s no reason for Suguru to act this ridiculous thought in his head out and physically show you what he means. There’s definitely no reason for you to be pulling Suguru closer, so he’s flush against you. As close as he can be while still looking you in the eyes. There’s something here in this small room bringing the two of you together in a way that you’ve never really been before. Sure Suguru has considered it greatly over the years, but he’s never acted on it.

No matter how many times he wanted to pin you down and fuck you out of the slutty Forever 21 dresses you wore in college. No matter how many cuddle sessions over the years with the two of you alone got questionable to say the least. No matter how many people asked Suguru if you were available and all he wanted to do was say that you belonged to him...and Satoru. He never did anything to try and take this relationship further. Before it would’ve ruined things and left a strange taste in the back of your throats but now? Now it would permanently destroy the fragile thing the three of you currently have.

“You like it because you want everyone to touch you?” he asks, hearing the slight annoyance in his voice,”I thought I knew all your kinks.” His fingers travel a little further up your torso, fingers grazing just underneath the swell of your chest. Suguru definitely doesn’t miss the way you lean up into the touch. “No,” you answer with a soothing sigh,”not everyone.”

Although whatever you have now is fragile, although he literally just insisted to himself that this is stupid, the way you’re looking up at him now has every logical thought in his head swirling down the drain. Suguru leans in a little too close to be friendly, too close to insist later on — when he reflects on all of this and hates himself for it — that he hadn’t really crossed a line. You don’t move away at his closeness or at the way his hips press flush against your navel. In fact, Suguru notices the excitement in your eyes, the need for soem sort of change to happen.

If he reaches any further in your top, he could cup the flesh of your chest with two fingers. If he reaches far enough, discards the top altogether and unveils your flesh for the world to see, he could give a polite wet thorough hello to the pebbled skin of your nipple. 

The thought alone is enough to encourage the beginnings of swelling to his cock. For a moment, he wonders if you can feel just how hard you’re beginning to make him by doing the absolute bare minimum. Can you feel how long he’s been wanting to do this? How long he’s been staring a little longer and harsher than necessary at those skimpy Forever 21 dresses you used to wear or the slight movement in your breasts when you slip your bra off through your shirt?

 “Not everyone huh?” he asks, quickly realizing he’s been staring at you like a weirdo. From this close though, maybe it doesn’t matter. You shake your head, your lips fitting into a smile that’s less amused, less knowing, and more wanting. “Only certain people?” he continues, pressing you to say something that’ll give him some sort of hint,” It’s plain to see that with the right words now, with the right touch, with the right tone, the two of you could change any and everything in the blink of an eye. Years of desire building up to this very moment in some random store.

Despite his earlier hesitation, Suguru feels bravery course through him as you look into his eyes. He feels so brave, so impossible confident, that his thumb comes up to join the other two and brushes against the pebbled skin of your nipple. A soft shudder leaves your lips as you follow this thumb’s journey. Your mouth parts to say something, anything that will encourage him to keep moving. 

“Uh...is anyone in here?”

The fear that settles deep into your bellies is cold and sudden. Suguru nearly jumps out of his skin before moving away from your form. He moves too far, too fast, and ends up cooly hitting his head on the set of hangers on the other side of the fitting room. Ignoring his hisses as he rubs the back of his head, you take a peek from around the curtain and grimace at the exhausted sales associate staring right back at you. 

“H-hi,” is all you can manage. It must be just as lame as it sounds because you can see the undeniable strength it takes for her to not roll her eyes at you. There’s no way to hide Suguru’s giant body in the stall now, not with him being several inches taller than you and quietly muttering about the hangers.

“Hi,” she answers in slight annoyance,”we’re closing in 5 minutes.”

“Shit,” you mutter,”I’m so sorry. We’ll...I’ll head out to pay now.

“Sure,” she replies knowingly, taking the time to look over your shoulder at Suguru and then back at you,”have a good night.”

There’s a moment where neither of you say anything. You both stand in silence and look at everywhere but each other which is nearly impossible in the small space. The heat from earlier hasn’t dissipated with the interruption. It somehow burns brighter than before, lighting up the room with its intensity. You grab your discarded clothes slowly, looking around for your belongings in the mess of clothes. “We should get going,” Suguru suggests lamely, painfully aware that he’s stating the obvious,,”do you know what you’re getting?” 

You reach behind your neck and begin to untie the thin strings around your neck before responding,”Kinda. I’ll look through them super quick after I change back.” Suddenly your eyes meet his for the first time since all of...that. Letting the strings fall around your shoulders, your arm goes to hold up your top limply in a poor attempt of modesty.

From where he towers over you, Suguru can see the push of your chest against the fabric. One wrong move, one quick impulsive decision, and he could see your flesh for himself. He could claim it as his own.  “Can I ask you something?” you ask, eyes dipping from his eyes to his waist and back. He knows he’s chubbed up in his pants, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He loves how you own this, whatever this is, and confirm thoughts and feelings that he initially thought only he had.

 “What’s up?”

“Wanna help me pack tonight? I have to get sooo much done.”

Suguru doesn’t want to admit that he’ll drink up any time with you that he can. Right now he can’t figure out if this is some sort of need finally being met or the culmination of years of odd feelings he didn’t want to look too closely at. So he chooses the easy-going route instead, something that he’s seen Satoru do time and time again when things got too serious. The raven-haired man tries to avoid thinking about the way his pants feel slightly tighter at the soft rising and falling of your chest as you await his answer.

Suguru shakes his head with a grin and tilts his head to the side as slight offense climbs its way into his voice,”Wow, now it seems like you’re just trying to take advantage of my kindness.” You roll your eyes and lightly shove him away with one hand, a smile making its way onto your feature. Initially his large frame barely moves at the motion, but then suddenly Suguru gasps and holds his arm with a pained groan. It makes you laugh — his goal after all — and pull at his arm to push him out of the stall altogether.

“I’m gonna get dressed,” you laugh softly,”keep guard.”

“Will do,” he says with a smile and promptly walks over to your cart. 

As he hears the rustle of clothing, he hears you speak up in an awkward sort of tone,”So...do you want to?”

Could he...?

“Help me pack,” you finish, voice slowly growing tight at the sudden silence in the room,”I’d appreciate the help. Also, I just...I dunno, I haven’t seen you in a while.” Suguru says nothing as he leans against the hand-rail of your cart, trying his hardest to read the sudden change in emotion. He can’t really tell if you’re trying to make everything “normal” or attempting to seem casual after the tension. He manages a hum to show he’s listening, but waits for you to give him a little more. 

“Remember all those sleepovers we used to have?” you ask, neatly leaving out the part where your sleepovers consisted of one more person besides the two of you,”I just miss them I guess.”

Suguru smiles softly at the memories as he says,”Yeah. I can help you pack. I’m supposed to be driving your tomorrow morning so...I can sleepover tonight.”

You pop out of the fitting room with a bundle of clothes under one arm. His heart flutters at the happiness in your eyes. “Thanks, Sugu,” you smile, the warmth there livening up his skin,”that means a lot.” As Suguru goes to respond, to say that maybe he has something he wants to talk about, he feels your hand shoving him yet again. He snorts at the reaction and notes the flustered look on your face as you mumble something about “too mushy” and grab your cart. 

Even though everything seems fine on your way out of the store, Suguru notices that you go out of your way to gander at marketing posters in the store, to glance sympathetically at the tired employees more than usual, or to judge lingering customers in the store; even if you are one. You don’t seem bothered by your earlier actions, but the silence is still weird. You buy your items with ease, still quiet and maybe reflective, and wish the sales associate who walked in on the two of you a good night. 

________

By the time you both arrive home, any possible awkwardness has faded away. The packing session turns into a modeling session where you make ridiculous poses that make Suguru laugh so hard his abs ache. Then the session turns frantic as you pack and repack to make sure you have everything you need. Even though the two of you drift in and out of the conversation as you fold and refold, you both avoid what happened earlier in a complex dance. Even though you playfully smacked his arm and Suguru grabbed your wrist with a laugh, the two of you pulled away without a beat and moved on smoothly.

Even though you modeled bathing suits just to make sure they “looked good”, Suguru said you looked great as his eyes openly caressed your body. Even though Suguru dutifully followed your request at sleeping in bed with you like the old days, you tried your hardest not to grind against him as you physically brought his arm around you. 

________

Suguru looks as peaceful and easy-going as always in the hazy orange-blue light that early morning brings. Your body begins twisting and reaching before you even realize it, a ghost of a smile hitting the corner of your lips when his arm only loosens around your form a fraction. You pull black tendrils of hair out of their loosened prison, instinctively allowing the hairband to wrap around your wrist with a thwap. At the feeling of your fingers slipping through his hair, Suguru lets out a sort of groan that resembles a lazy lion. He pushes his head into the feeling, humming even louder when you begin occasionally scratching his scalp.

Despite his soft noises, the overall calming silence of early morning slows the bodies down significantly. The two of you stretch around each other, pushing away only briefly to try to not-so-subtly rub the sleep from both of your eyes and make sure you’re both somewhat presentable. When you lie on your back this time, Suguru doesn’t fully relinquish his arm.

Instead, he rests his head on your shoulder and keeps his arm firmly around your middle. His warm breath spreads against your collarbone, warming the cool skin there. This is all very different than what you’re used to, but not entirely foreign.

You remember sleepovers throughout high school in a cramped basement with three bodies trying their hardest to fit onto Suguru’s beat-up couch. You remember sleepovers throughout high school where if you weren’t in that basement, you were lying in Satoru’s king-sized bed and promising that the three of you would be together always.

You remember sleepovers in college in either of your dorms each week, squished together in the twin-sized bed dorms provide like a pack of sardines. You distinctly remember that no matter the location or where you decided to lay your head for the night, waking up every morning with Satoru sprawled partially on top of you and snoring into your ear while Suguru’s hair covering your face. 

You would always allow, demand, and welcome any amount of closeness the boys were willing to give as possible. So while Suguru’s presence in your bed isn’t entirely foreign, the tension in it is definitely new. 

With the weight of him pressing into you, you can feel his knee caging your thigh and the tip of his nose pressing against the soft skin of your neck. Although he’ll always be your Suguru, your best friend, you can’t help the way your mind wanders to last night. 

You’ve never thought about whether or not you found Suguru attractive until last night. Of course, you could admit that he was attractive but it never really went anywhere from there. But now things are different.

Now cracks of curiosity are slowly forming through the “I will not look at Geto Suguru this way” wall you’ve built up over the years. This bubbling tension is far from a joke gone horribly wrong or a weird “we should try it at least once” impulsive decision.

If Suguru found you attractive to the point of action, wouldn’t he say something to you? With everything that’s happened, would he not distance himself in that way? Dating Satoru blurred social lines for all of your relationships and impacted the way you all interacted. The three of you were already very close, closer than people could really understand, but once you and Satoru started dating, Suguru seemed to distance himself. 

As you lie there in bed, unsure of the time, your mind flashes to the feeling of his fingers on your skin in a way you’ve never felt before. As you stare at the pale expanse of Suguru’s leg, longing to trace the intricate tattoos covering the skin, you regret your idiotic decision to date Satoru. It ruined everything the three of you had. For a time, after the two of you broke up, it seemed like it had.

Suguru was split between hanging out wtiht the two of you as you mourned something that was doomed to fail. It must’ve been annoying, you think as you brush the stray strands of hair out of your face and wrap a few fingers around the tresses, and exhausting. Despite how tiring it must’ve been, Suguru was there for the two of you and insisted that you could all make this work again. That it didn’t have to be this way. You could all be friends just like before.

It would’ve been possible.

Maybe now with Gojo distracted and Suguru here,  everything could go back to normal. You wonder if you’ve ruined those chances yet again though as your mind wanders once again to the feeling of his skin on yours.  

As you reflect on the night before, Suguru’s very warm and very heavy body moves. He shifts once against you and then twice, seemingly burrowing further into the blankets surrounding the both of you. On the third time, you can feel a firm presence somewhere against your thigh. The presence is only there for a moment before Suguru adjusts again. It’s too late though. You’ve felt it. The telltale sign of morning arousal for certain people.

“What’s that line again,” you ask, eyes never leaving the white ceiling glaring back at you,”is that your phone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

Despite the feeling of his once relaxed body tensing and his hand moving away from its home on your stomach, Suguru apologizes with a tired laugh. A very slight adjustment follows the laugh, the feeling of him on your thigh now ghost-like in nature as you try to remember the shape and feel.

The silence that follows shortly after grows heavy and charging as it heats up the air with its intensity. Suguru lies still next to you now, every ounce of sleep and calm previously in his body leaving in a steady stream. Neither of you want to move away entirely and deal with the awkwardness that often came from these situations.

At the same time though, neither of you want to pull away entirely or create space that so desperately needs to be there.  

Silently, delicately, you move his hand that pools in a small space between the two of you over your stomach, resting the large palm against the sliver of skin your slightly disheveled tank top leaves. The two of you watch his gentle fingers caress your skin and the goosebumps that rise with each stroke. The calm that comes naturally with Suguru has always been addicting.

It encourages a state of relaxation that’s almost akin to mindlessness. Physical affection that made you sink into his arms, boneless and open. Laughter that always seemed to flow out of your body naturally and easily. There’s something about Suguru’s presence that brings a comfort that always makes you stop thinking completely.

As you remember his fingers on your body last night and feel the way his fingers carefully dance along your body, you can feel your brain begin to shut off. The “what if”s and “what about”s fade into the background as his large warm fingers slowly, but surely crawl their way underneath your tanktop and explore. 

As those fingertips dance along your torso, pulling your tank top up as it makes its unknown journey, Suguru’s brown eyes look up into yours. By the time your shirt is lying above your chest, goosebumps marking your skin, Suguru’s fingers turn into a full palm that holds your breast and gently squeezes the delicate flesh in its hold.

Something about the way you don’t really feel exposed to him necessarily like this, something about the ghost of a smirk on his face at the sight of you shivering slightly at being exposed to the cold, solidifies that this is Geto Suguru. Your Getou Suguru who knows all of the kinks you’ve joked about all of the years, all of the pleasure spots around your body, and who currently looks very happy. Like he’s thanking the stars for aligning in the exact position that they did in order to bring the universe to make this happen right now. 

But Suguru doesn’t move from his hand or anything really. He just hovers there as his dark eyes watch every twitch of your muscles and hazy-eyed blink of your eyes. Suguru doesn’t move when you arch slightly, moving his hand away slightly so contact is never made. Suguru doesn’t move when you pout, your eyebrows beginning to furrow at the lack of anything. He even doesn’t move when you wrap a hand around his wrist and pull the limb toward you.

Suguru’s stronger than you and easily maneuvers out of your hold.

Frustration begins to boil away at your stomach as your gaze hardens into a not-very-convincing glare. Suguru smiles at the sight but continues to remain still. Your best friend knows how impatient you are. From long road trips to emotional-support DMV trips to sitting around at Satoru’s martial arts tournaments in high school, you can barely tolerate waiting for your food to fully cool before shoving it into your mouth. It appears that sex is no different.

“Sugu,” you huff out, sucking your teeth as he dodges your breast yet again,”if you don’t do something I’m going to scream.”

“Tell me you want it.”

Briefly removing the lustful lens you’ve had on since you woke up this morning, you take a second to really consider Suguru. He presses his lips against your forehead as he begins to move. Suguru leaves his place on your shoulder and leans on his elbow to hover over you a bit. His hand comes to rest just underneath the pebbled skin. Then he waits.  The eagerness in his eyes matches what you can only assume is bursting out of yours.

But why isn’t Suguru doing anything?

Does he want you to take control?

As if you’re not waiting on bated breath, Suguru sits up a little higher and uses that halted hand to pull the thick black band from around your wrist. Your eyes follow the movements of his fingers, fluid and unconscious as they gather his long hair and pull it into some sort of messy bun. Out of his face and unable to tickle whatever parts of your body it landed on. “I just want to be sure,” he insists, some of that lust dialing back in his eyes,”I just want us to be sure.”

Then you notice his slightly stiff hands and the way his fingers accidentally pull his bun to far before he has to start the process of retying his hair all over again. The way his eyes flicker about your face nervously as his mouth just begins to pull into a frown. Seeing his nervousness minds your lust-fried brain that this is new to you both. 

As sexy as all of this is, there’s a choice in this. A choice to keep everything as close to the past as you could or to venture off in some unknown path. But as his arms begin flexing with apparent the effort it takes to retie his hair, you notice his body. You remember that you want to feel good and make him feel good in return and only then does your mind settle matters for you by shutting itself off. You nod. It’s a hurried nod that reveals every bit of desperation you’re holding in your bones. 

The sight has Suguru tsking and shaking his head in disapproval. With his messy bun somewhat settled on his head, he leans down again on his elbow to get closer to your body. Annoyance fills your chest as you watch Suguru, with this newfound consent, do absolutely nothing.

“Geto,” you find yourself pouting, grabbing lazily at his wrists as he laughs,”I want it. I want it. Just do something please. Oh my fucking Go—”

Sharp and long pain bleeds into hot pleasure as your body is viciously brought on edge. Your annoyed pout turns into a pathetic whimper as your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. Body moving simultaneously towards and away from the offending hand, you squeeze your thighs together at the raw ache of your pussy. Need, unbridled need, fills you in a way that’s nearly overwhelming with the sheer power of it. Suguru’s initial pinch soon turns into a twist as he watches you at the mercy of his whims.

The command in your hold on him loses its potency as your lips part to let out moans growing in intensity and length. Suguru’s dark eyes never leave your face as he starts rolling the nipple between his fingers.

“More, Sugu. C’mon,” you gasp, grabbing his wrist and trying lamely to bring it closer.

Surprisingly Suguru actually listens.

He leans down quickly, too far gone to care about the awkward angle, and licks along your breast. It takes the slightest tilt, the slightest nudge of his nose, for your nipple to finally make its way into the warm cavern of your mouth. His mouth, warm and wet, unleashes a predatory tongue that eagerly greets your sensitive flesh. Your fingers find his hair as the tip of that muscle flicks against the swollen nub and ruin the bun he so carefully put together. Your mind fades as his tongue increases and decreases in speed, each new action unpredictable and random.

The thick tendrils of hair in your fist slip and bend along with your movements, your arches, your whimpers, and a sudden harsh suck has them pulling painfully from Suguru’s scalp. He moans into your chest, pushing his head into your hand with an encouraging nod. As Suguru begins to switch to your neglected breast, a renewed pleasure courses through your bones, and you feel more and more of those thrusts.

The power in them, the feel of his cock faintly rubbing against you, has you thinking very hard about his cock. 

Whether the thick length of him curves up slightly or whether it’s just as huge as all those people in high school and college exclaimed, or whether his favorite spot sits in wait on the underside of his tip or right on the slit. You heard stories throughout high school and college of “Impossibly big” and “long and perfectly curved” but you’ve never experienced it for yourself.

You had classmates and friends of friends occasionally ask you for explicit details about Suguru and Satoru because of your friendship. There were very few times when Satoru was drunk and would flash you or accidentally walk in on Suguru while he was getting changed, but you always looked away.

You’d close your eyes and rush out of the room immediately. When people asked all you could say was “Ew, of course not” or “Are you kidding me? Look at them”. Now you’re eating those words when you should really be eating his cock. Now you’re curious and you need to know everything, every single detail you can about his cock. You need to know the shape of it in his briefs, the natural smell of him, the girth of inside you, the impossible heat it’d bring. 

Somewhere in between his sucks, he must’ve noticed you getting a little too spacey for his liking. By the time you gather the courage, the small bit of sense you had left, to tell him to take his cock out, it’s too late. His teeth descend upon your nipple and squeeze the swollen aching flesh viciously. Maybe Suguru really was paying attention all of the times you’ve talked about your kinks and emphasized how anything to do with your chest was the key to your pants.

Those teeth, that delicious squeeze, soon expand into a slight stretch as he pulls his head back slightly. The orgasm takes the two of you by surprise. Your back arches into the firmness of his body, the weight of him bearing down on you to hold you in place. His other hand holds onto your hips firmly, pinning them to the bed effortlessly. Your sleep shorts bunch up a bit in his hand as he holds you still and waits for you to come down. 

Closing your eyes tight and holding on, your body hums with the suddenness of it, the unpredictable nature of it, as if neither of you was prepared for this.

By the time you finish cumming, chest panting slightly as you finally open your eyes, you feel the press of large fingers against your clothed folds. “Holy shit,” Suguru snorts, pushing further into the slightly tacky cotton,”soaked through your shorts.”

It’s not like you’ve never came from just your nipples before. You had to be really into the moment for it to happen, the need to be relaxed or mindless driving the action. But it doesn’t really happen with hookups or relationships. Well, that’s not true. 

It happened pretty often with Satoru. 

“Needy, baby.”

Suguru presses a chaste kiss on your temple and easily maneuvers the cotton of your shorts until he’s home in the confining wet heat of your underwear. The odd angle doesn’t work for either of you. Quicker than you’d like to admit, you peel off your shorts and underwear, tossing them into the far corner of the room. With easier access, Suguru’s fingers crush past the trimmed hair of your mound and travel down to your swollen clit.

A tentative brush of a dry fingertip on sensitive flesh brings out a desperate and annoyed whine from your very chest,”Sugu, stop teasing.”

All Suguru can do is smile at your patience — your neediness — as he spreads your slick around your heated folds with experienced fingers. You look up at him with a huff and immediately try to hold back the smile Suguru kisses your forehead gently.

“Been wanting to do this for a while,” he admits in the short-lived quiet,”let me enjoy it okay?”

You’re too dizzy with want and need and ache and burning to pay attention to it, keening when his finger begins to tighten its lazy circles. Although somewhere deep inside, the precious kisses Suguru keeps giving you make your heart ache.

Somewhere that ache flows down and lands firmly on your clit.“Enjoy it faster,” you groan with a slight pant,”wanna suck you off.” He grinds against your thigh in response, barely biting down the gasp that leaves his mouth at the pressure on his tip. 

His fingers move down to the rest of your cunt, gently and roughly rubbing on sensitive spots until they glide with ease in your folds. It’s only when you’re on the verge of biting the meat of his cheek, twisting to press against his flushed cheek with your mouth open, that a long finger slips in without any resistance.

There’s no comment or protest this time. No annoyed huffs either. As if to punish your previously childish behavior even more, another long finger joins its sibling and sits in your heat. There’s the slightest bit of resistance now as your body adjusts to the feeling of sudden and thorough fullness.You wiggle your hips to relieve the pressure slightly and nod against Suguru’s lips on your temple as he asks if you’re okay. Then the fingers move slowly, purposefully, out of your drooling hole.

The adjustment doesn’t take too long to get used to. You buck your hips, impatience building once again, and whimper,”Sugu.”

There’s no hiding the genuine annoyance starting to bubble beneath your skin. Even if he’s bigger than you thought he’d be, you could take him now. You can take the discomfort, the painful stretch in your pelvis as your insides greet him. He’s only just begun and, with the lack of sex recently, you’ll probably ache tomorrow.

But a part of you right now needs the pain. Needs to feel the burn that’ll deliciously light up your cunt into an overstimmed used and ruined thing. It’s been ages since you’ve last been touched and you want to feel every single part of it now. You also want to be good for Suguru and in return have him be good for you.

You want to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth, on your tongue, and in your throat. “Yeah,” you whimper, encouragement and praise bleeding into your voice,”More, c’mon. I want it—” His fingers are long enough, thick enough, that it should be enough, but you want more. Your cries go unheard as his eyes focus solely on the wet slosh your pussy makes as he pumps at your hole. 

The speed of those fingers finally picks up and travels right past where you’d begged for them to be. Instead, you meet a brutal pace that has your legs shaking slightly and hips meeting the meat of his palm. With each slight smack of his palm, each buck of your hips, your clit can only take each shock of a slap. Your orgasm builds just as viciously as the last. It claws its way from deep in your belly, making itself known with each slight “pap” on your clit. This is all too much. He’s only fingering you and your orgasms are unforgiving and seemingly constant. As Suguru continues to break the thin threads holding you together and rip them in half, the pads of his fingers rub meanly against that swollen bump inside of you.

“Sugu, Sugu, Sugu,” you chant, body writhing,”I want—”

“I don’t think you know what you want,” Suguru cuts in, hips moving a little more insistently against your thigh. You’re vaguely aware of the cotton wetting your skin when he speaks up again,”You’ll probably take anything I give you at this point.” He ignores your desperate and indignant pleas as he pulls his glazed digits from your clingy cunt,”My fingers, my tongue, my cock, my cum...in your slutty wet pussy or maybe somewhere else.”

You can feel the way your holes instinctively clench at the suggestion and can see the way Suguru grins at the feeling of those muscles tightening. As you moan at his mischievous grin, moan at the way he touches you so roughly yet so gently, those fingers find their way between his slightly parted lips. Suguru sucks off the lingering dribbles of white and hums softly at the musky taste of you dancing around his tongue. draw two individual paths along either side of your folds to wrap around their prize.

The beauty of Geto Suguru isn’t lost on you in this moment.

The wildness of his hair as it fans all over your shoulders and tickles your arms, hair tie long-forgotten in the festivities. The darkness of his eyes only shows warm lust and unfiltered and unyielding want. The various tattoos dance along his arms and cover his chest in such a way that the bright silver of his nipple piercings draws your eye. You’re probably staring for too long because Suguru begins to shift under your gaze. It isn’t discomfort or shyness, but it doesn’t feel confident or happy.

“Do I look pretty?” he asks suddenly, pursing his lips into the most obnoxious duck face. 

“You’re the prettiest, babe,” you answer with a laugh,”Need you though.”

The brief humor between the two of you dissipates and all that’s left is the heady scent of arousal.

“You have me,” Suguru smiles a little wider,”Now you’re just getting greedy.” Your pout deepens at his comment and the thought of biting his nose dances across your mind. As Suguru slides his fingers back into your aching heat, you know he can feel how wet you are. There’s no way he can’t see how much you want this. He’s even heard you beg for it, so why is he holding back?

Because Suguru hates you probably, you think, hates you so much he doesn’t want you to feel good. But you don’t want to think anymore. You want to go stupid on his cock, to become a drooling wet mess, destroyed and then slowly put back together again.

“You keep whining and complaining,”Suguru sighs, steadily picking up his previous pace,”what do you want anyway?”

You whimper immediately, arching your back as those fingers relentlessly curl upwards and press. “Suck you off,” you answer dutifully, eyes following the pale blur of Suguru’s hand between your legs.

Yeah, baby,” he coos, pressing another kiss to your forehead,”you wanna suck me off that badly huh?”

“Yeah please please plea—”

Loud. Incessant. Irritating. High pitched.

The gratingly loud song of the ringtone is enough to slow the pace of  Suguru’s fingers inside of you.

“What the fuck is that?”  

Suguru sits up a little further, slipping the pruny fingers into his mouth to suck your juices off as his other hand scrolls through the offending device. The bright light of his phone draws a groan out of him. “Shit. Six missed calls,” he mutters, “and he’ll just keep calling”. All you can process is Suguru and another orgasm.

All you care about is Suguru and another orgasm. Instead of sliding down the ledge, you’re slowly backing away and heading back home. In order to think again, in order to be a person who contributes to this world, you take matters into your own hands. 

You clamor your way up from your lying position to sit up and straddle the thick muscles that make up Suguru’s thigh. Although his eyebrows have begun to furrow, his other large hand — the not-pruny one — guides you by your waist to sit fully on your new chair.

Now, with firm pressure on your clit, you’re too far gone to care about who’s calling and why. 

The mild annoyance on Suguru’s face isn’t enough to deter you. Not after all of the teasing he’s been doing. If it can’t be the man itself, at least a part of him promises salvation. As you steady yourself on his shoulders, whimpering at and promptly ignoring the tightening grip on your waist, you begin to move your hips. The insistent pressure on your clit isn’t enough to make your mind completely shatter but it’s enough to get you over that ledge in front of you.

“Hey,” Suguru grunts softly, trying not to think of the sweet kiss from your bare pussy leaving a damp patch on his thigh,”you might wanna hold off.” The ringtone fades and leaves the filthy sound of sex behind.

A part of your mind whispers that you should ask just who’s calling Suguru at this hour but as his hand guides you more, starts lifting his thigh slightly to meet your hips, you forget everything else. Cramps burn their way into your hips and thighs as you maintain pace. While he moves you as well as he can, you don’t really trust him.

How can you be so sure that he won’t tease you? That he won’t drag you kicking and screaming from the mountaintop again all because he wants to take his time?

 “Sugu,” you pant, leaning closer to the sturdy man,”please. No more okay? Help me.”  

“Shit.” 

There it is again. Shrill and irritating. 

“Just answer. I’ll be quiet promise.”

When you look at him, you can see a slight panic in Suguru’s eyes. Attributing it up to the possibility of being caught, the shock of a fantasy being served on a silver platter, you keep humping. You watch as those eyes travel down the length of your body, taking in your bouncing tits and jiggling tummy, and focus solely on your skin meeting his. “Fuck,” he hisses, hand slowing down the speed of your hips,”you’re getting my thigh so wet baby—”

As hot as the feeling of wetting his skin is, the incessant ringtone is bringing you out of your horny reverie and into annoyance. “Sugu,” you grunt, trying to regain speed despite his hold on you,”focus, answer the phone okay?”

Suguru rolls his eyes and huffs, blindly tapping away at his phone with his other hand as he stares at your sex,“What happened to ‘Sugu, please’? All that sweet stuff from earlier?”

Despite the distractions, the annoyance, the resistance in your movement brings just the right kind of force against your clit. You’re nearly toppling over now, staring down at the rocky waters below and feeling ocean spray on your cheeks. You’re close. So close that you can practically taste it. The banter is usually welcoming, but not now. It’s now or never.

“Stop,” you moan, clinging to his shoulders,”shut up, fuck. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon —”

You barely notice Suguru’s palm leaving the heated skin of your hip. Your eyes water with the intensity of the build-up, the rise right before the fall. All that matters is the next few seconds before you can finally fall off that ledge, before you can drop down into the abyss. But then it’s there, hitting you so violently that you swear you can both hear and feel the rush of water. Suguru hisses at the feeling of warm and wet dribbling on his thigh. He has half a mind to toss you on the bed and pound you into it. ”Face down, ass up, now—”

“Suuguuruuuuu~”

The familiar voice has the two of you stopping immediately in your tracks, fear electrifying both of you. The haze leaves both of your eyes as you stare at each other in horror.

“Suguru, where are you?” you hear again, heart and stomach sinking as you finally recognize it. It takes longer than you’d like to admit for the two of you to locate the source of the voice.

Although you know that voice better than anyone, you still feel terror run through your bones as Suguru holds up his phone and flashes “Satoru” on the screen.