#that. sounds. very bad. but i don't know how else to say it.

[anonymous-existences]

Chapter 3: New Faces, New Job, New Everything.

Continuation to the Prolouge, Chapter 1 and 2.

Danny stares at Dante in absolute shock, Red Hood? RED HOOD?? OF ALL PEOPLE. Dante had to meet the rumored and probably the most violent of the Vigilantes. And Red Hood being a literal Crime Lord makes this worse.

"He had a fat ass to be hone-" Dante Blurted with a smirk but Danny cuts him off, "No, No. Shut up. I don't wanna hear your- or my- wait no. YOU'RE gay shenanigans." Danny pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to process the whole story.

"Let me get this.. straight-... You ... Ugh.... Ancients save me. YOU. MET. RED HOOD. AFTER. Beating up... Someone in his HAUNT?? And what do you mean he's a revenant? I thought frostbite said those were the "rare cases" of semi-halfas" Danny tries to clear up all the information in his head through just yelling it out.

"Yep." Dante popping the "P" and does not elaborate on anything else but a simple 'yep'.

"Kill me fully- wait... No. Jazz wouldn't want that." Danny reminded himself and took a deep breathe.

"I am so telling Clockwork." Danny spoke out.

"Oh come on! I'm in physical probation! I defended someone from getting bad things happen to them—" Danny cut him off.

"You can say "Fucked up shit" you know stop physically censoring yourself." Danny just stared at Dante with a judgemental face. Dante gasped dramatically like he's offended by that statement.

"OH WOW. It's not like I'm trying to 'Censor' myself because you're a traumatized 13 year old kid and I'm an adult given the responsibility of YOU cuz I love you like my brother." Dante states emphasizing every word.

"You sound like a drag queen." Danny blurts out

"I look better in pink anyways." Dante smirked smugly and Danny just frowned and sighed as Dante Ruffled his hair Mischievously.

"Don't you have a job interview today?" Danny grabbed his hand and gently places it away from his poor hair.

"I already got hired. They said I fit the job." Dante sounded very proud of himself before Danny blurts out "I think they hired you on the spot because you're Eye Candy."

Dante was stunned and thought about it for a moment.

Hmm.

"Yeah I suppose but that doesn't matter now, I have a normal job and people doesn't seem to be bothered by me at all so it's very good." Danny imagined that if Dante had a tail he'd be wagging it and Danny didn't like that mental image of a fucking CATBOY DAN- "UUUUUGHH! I hate that." He drags his palm on his face dramatically.

"And you Danny. Is coming with me to work. I am not leaving you in the apartment because. I will list it.

1. Someone might break in and you're not safe.

2. You might kill that someone either through ghost or through your tendencies to grab that goddamn creep stick and hit without hesitation.

3. I am not letting you play DOOMED for 7 hours straight, But I will let you play Minecraft.

4. You or well, We. Tend to roam away from home when we are bored, in this case you do. And ding ding ding we're in Gotham.

5. If you ever got into any danger. I would not worry if you're okay. I would worry if you killed someone first.

That's your list."

Dante started Loud and Clear.

"Fine but I get to bring both my phone and headphones with my switch." Danny Complied with a deal making Dante smile triumphantly, "Fine with me Twerp, and you better behave at the cafe." He chuckles and Pats Danny's Head Gently but still mischievously.

Danny also giggled, Danny's chest felt warm. And his core buzzed in familiar happiness as Dante and Danny Pressed their foreheads into each other before Dante pats Danny's shoulder and stands back up with a groan.

"Let's go kid, get ready now." Dante stretched his body and cracks some of his "old bones" as Danny heads to his bedroom and takes his sling bag and puts his 'neccesities' inside with a smile.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tim heard about a new Cafe opening nearby Gotham U, although at first he was suspicious of how so many people are already visiting it and even the lines reach outside. He soon found out why. One of their workers was rumored to be apparently "eye candy" or whatever they called people who are very attractive.

This worker was the main Barista and he apparently makes the drinks Infront of the people and he was good at it.

That got Tim even more curious, How attractive does someone have to be that people of all genders are lining up on a new store as if a celebrity is inside. And so he decided to wait in line like any other student as to not direct any attention to himself because that would be utterly humiliating for him.

He waited.....

And waited....

And kept Waiting and Waiting....

Until finally, what felt like an eternity he finally got to order His Coffee.

It seems the rumors are true, the bartender is indeed attractive. Tim got even more curious about how the big man seemed to have canine sharp teeth, oddly pale complexion that almost looks... Purple? And Lazarus Green Water with Red Rims.

"An Americano with two shots please.." He states to the Cashier, "And name please?" The Cashier asks again.

"Timothy." He calmly tells her as she writes it down to a receipt and hands it to the orders That the "Eye Candy" Man and Another Worker was Making.

Tim sat on a nearby table. It was the only table that happened to be empty. Except a 13 years old kid just sitting there playing... Minecraft? Okay-.

The kid stared at Tim, Tim stares back. 'He looks like adoption Bait.' Tim thinks to himself then suddenly he slowly feels weird, as if he's being judged intensely, Unfortunately and possibly even worse than how Damian judges him.

"You look like an overworked 9-5 office worker that has no paid vacations or time off for a student." the kid suddenly speaks out and it felt as though Tim had just been shot with a non-existent arrow of truth.

"Wha-" Tim tries to ask but the kid interrupts him before he could even start, "you should really get some sleep and maybe lessen your intake of Coffee... Ah right. Name's Danny by the way. Sorry. You just started staring at me so I couldn't help but state my opinion." The kid, or well... Danny said as he went back to playing Minecraft on his switch.

"I- it's... It's fine. I know I need sleep... All college students do- it's normal." Timothy just sighs and nods subtly, knowing full well this random kid is right.

Goddamit, the kid acts like Damian a bit too- and he has the typical black hair blue eyes appearance, possibly an orphan attitude. Tim continues to have a subtle Life Crisis in his head.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

'Such a weird person.' Danny thought to himself and chuckled softly.

He continues to play Minecraft with Tucker and Sam to Pass his time and so he doesn't go all deppreso mid-daylight. The amount of people entering the cafe was still... Concerning at the very least, now that the customers have heard Dante's voice... They started to call him the "Everything in one Package." Which was way worse than "Eye Candy" to be honest.

'Vlad would be confused and shocked.... I wonder how Ellie is doing.. hopefully not too bad....' Danny hums to himself as he made a gravesite ingame for Jazz to remember her by.

It has become tradition for these teens to make jazz a gravesite whenever they start a new world and they always made sure it's beautiful and colorful in a way Jazz would have liked it.

Danny smiled as he finished up the ingame Gravesite.

Although it hurts to see and do this every time, he still loves it because then he has something to remind him of her existence.

Her precious Existence as he likes to call it.

"I miss her so much..." He mutters to himself.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

"I'm so... Tired." Dante was plopped onto the couch lazily.

"I am scared to be an adult like you..." Danny just stared at Dante as he Begrudgingly sat back up from the couch to stretch his body and head to the kitchen to cook.

"I met a random older student today, we kinda talked. He called me adoption bait which was funny because technically I am considering V l a d." Danny laughed.

"Adoption Bait my ass, who would want to adopt a little messy homeless looking goblin." Dante just chuckled smugly and Danny Pouts. " I am not a homeless looking kid" he tries to defend himself "that's the thing you're most concerned about in my sentence?" Dante tucked his hair back into a tight Ponytail and let's it flow naturally like fire.

"I know I'm a goblin, it's just how I am." Danny proudly says and pats his chest and puffs it out with pride.

"Ofcourse you do... Ah right. Kiddo I have a surprise for you tomorrow. So make sure to get enough sleep today alright?" Dante kneels down to Danny's Height to speak to him properly.

Danny thinks for a second, "Sure! I like surprises!" Danny giggled nodded profusely in excitement.

"Good." Dante smiled softly, he loves it when Danny is happy. His core loves when Danny is also happy. A happy Danny is a happy Dante.

He wishes this could go on forever. Just Danny smiling and not screaming for his life in his nightmares.

My Arm is cold from writing this <33

Enjoy though.

[whisperofwonder]

I had a garbage day at work today, so here is something a little self-indulgent

Kageyama Tobio x gn!reader - 1k words

Tobio has it all planned out. When you walk through the door, you'll see the flowers he'd picked out, already in a vase on the kitchen counter. It's a pretty little bouquet, with the delicate blossoms he knows make you smile. The takeout he'd ordered has just arrived, and the aroma of your favorite food is already wafting through the apartment.

He hopes it will help. When you sent him a text earlier about what a terrible day you're having, he knew he had to do something to cheer you up. You rarely complain, so it must be bad. It hurts him to think about how awful you must be feeling.

Finally, he hears the sound of your key in the door, and you're in the entryway, dropping your bag on the ground and toeing off your shoes with a heavy sigh.

"Welcome home," He says, and you glance at him, forcing a half-baked smile onto your face.

"Oh, I didn't know you'd be home!" You say as you step inside, and he leans in for a quick kiss.

"Yeah, practice ended early." He steps back as you move into the kitchen, watching your face as your gaze lands on the flowers. You turn to look at him with a soft sound of surprise.

"What are these for?" You ask, admiring the bouquet for a few moments before turning back toward him.

"Just because," He shrugs, "You had a bad day. I ordered takeout, too. So don't worry about making dinner."

"Ah, so that's what I smell," You smile wanly at him, and he feels his brow furrow. You're smiling, but you still don't seem very happy. "Thanks, Tobio," You continue, "That's really sweet of you."

"Of course," He says, "Why don't you get changed? I'll get everything set up to eat." He watches you go off to the bedroom, notices the way your shoulders slump as you move out of sight. As he opens the food containers and fills two glasses with water, he worries about you. What else can he do to help you feel better?

When you finally emerge, you're dressed in a comfy pair of sweats and one of his old t-shirts that you'd claimed long ago. You take a seat across from him and reach for a container, pulling it towards yourself.

"Do you want to talk about your day?" He asks as you dig into the food. You shake your head, chewing and swallowing before you open your mouth.

"Not really," You admit, "I'd rather just forget all about it, actually." You offer another one of those smiles that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and he feels something clench in his chest.

"Okay," He says quietly, not sure what else to do aside from letting you enjoy your meal. You both eat in relative silence, and when you're finished, he quickly gets up to clear away the leftovers before you have a chance to. You stay seated, watching him move around the kitchen, putting the leftovers in the fridge and dropping your cups and chopsticks into the sink. When he's done, he comes to stand in front of you.

"What can I do?" He asks softly, and you startle, brow furrowing. He reaches for your hand, resting on the table, and you let him take it, giving your fingers a squeeze.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"How can I help you feel better?" He clarifies, "I don't like it when you're not happy."

You smile, and this time it's soft, but a little closer to an actual smile. "You know what would help?" You finally murmur, tilting your chin up to look into his face. "Just hold me."

Oh. It's simple, but if that's what you want... well, he can do that easily enough. He pulls you to your feet, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight to his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face into his t-shirt. You exhale a sigh, and he rubs a hand down your back.

"Closer," You murmur, so muffled against him that he can barely make it out. He puzzles over that request for a few moments. You're already so close, tucked in his arms and snug against him, but...

All it takes is a little tug, a slight press on your back, and you catch on, hooking your arms around his neck as he easily lifts you higher, arms latched securely around you as you wrap your legs around his middle, pressing your face into the juncture of his neck. It's so effortless, the way you fit against him so perfectly.

He moves the few steps into the living room, carefully settling down onto the couch as you adjust in his arms, still clinging to him like a koala. He presses a kiss to your hair, more than content to stay with you like this for as long as you need.

He lets his fingers play up and down your back and arms, aimlessly making shapes and brushing gently against your skin. He slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, tracing up and down the length of your spine. Occasionally, he drops a kiss to your shoulder or temple, breathing in your familiar scent.

He isn't sure how much time passes. Finally, you stir, settling back so that you can look into his face. Your expression is softer, now, your brow relaxed, and your smile is warm. He can't help but smile back. "Better now?" He whispers hopefully.

"Much," You sigh out, smile widening before you lean in to kiss him.

"Good," He says against your mouth before reciprocating the kiss, lips moving languidly against yours. He'll remember this. It almost feels like cheating, he muses, that all it takes to cheer you up is to pull you into his arms and hold you like this. Not that he's complaining.

[sabakos]

i mean dont get me wrong, being a visual artist kinda sucks, like its a lot of work to develop your skills and you have devote a lot of time to it in order to get better.

which means that if you've been doing that since you were five and now you're 25 and you meet a 15 year old that is clearly better than you who says that they've only been drawing for a few months.... uh, naturally you want to kill them and yourself. but you also have to bite your tongue because hating on another artist, especially one younger than you, looks to everyone else exactly like the sort of cope that it is, and to their credit most other artists find the crab-bucket mentality distasteful, no matter how much they secretly engage in it themselves. so you've gotta repress that urge.

meanwhile, enter the stupid robot that will let anyone make halfway decent art, even "techbros" who don't know enough basic rules of composition to tell when it fucks up, who don't care enough to notice when the fingers are all mangled or the eyes are wrong. you couldn't hate on the talented teenagers, but these techbros and their stupid robot seem like they might be acceptable targets by your standard, its not like they worked very hard for this. and now some of them are winning art contests against actual human artists!

but of course normal people who arent artists dont understand and still think you look crazy for shouting about something that doesnt affect you, so you gotta come up with a reason why this is harming you. maybe it's going to take your future job. maybe its "stolen" art and the law should be changed to make it a copyright violation. maybe it's bad for the environment. maybe its... not really art somehow? now, none of these excuses are very convincing and all of them fall apart under further examination, but maybe if you come up with enough of them and sound sufficiently angry about it, perhaps no one will notice the flaws, and the AI art will all go away and you can go back to pretending not to hate anyone younger than you. hey when was the last time you drew anything anyway?

[omamervt]

I think. Idk I think it's time we got a little perspective refresh. Idk how we get people to stop chasing the scent of blood, but it's gotta happen somehow.

Like. there's this Minecraft youtuber who I don't really follow but his videos show up recommended sometimes and he's funny, really deadpan, dry humor, my kind of thing, you know? Couldn't tell you his channel name off the top of my head though. Handsome Fella or something like that. Guess it doesn't matter that much.

Anyway I saw like, a week or so ago as I was uploading some TikToks that there were people talking about his "downfall" and how they knew there was something up with him and like. I looked into it? Dude had cheated on his girlfriend. 90% of the time when we're talking about a Minecraft Youtuber that sentence is followed by "with a minor," but no in this guy's case it was a) with another adult and b) didn't even sound like a successful attempt.

Like, dude's a terrible role model obviously but the way people were talking about him you'd think he was just as bad as Dream.

And like, I shouldn't be surprised with that. John Mulaney was treated the same, if not worse, when he divorced his wife and went to rehab. But I also don't think divorcing your wife, who you previously had a very positive relationship with, due to things you did that got you sent to rehab is necessarily a reason to treat someone like a monster. You know?

But what did surprise and upset me is that a couple days ago, I saw a Twitch streamer blow up on TikTok showing off her figurine collection, and then she responded to a comment saying, "can't wait to hear the allegations against you!" Like, are we REALLY at a point where we're all EXCITED at the possibility of people getting hurt, just so we have an excuse to tear someone else down?

That's like, really fucked up.

[theauthorityvol1]

you monsters.

[chiimeramanticore]

[moe-broey]

Man..

[thecherrygod]

/

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

imo everyone on earth should be talking about Him (don't want this showing up in the tag even though it's not a diss) but everytime i go to the tag and there's only like 3 new posts i'm like. oh yeah almost no one cares except me and like 5 other ppl on here

i ran out of tags KFHSJENNXN i don't think that's literally ever happened to me before anyways don't read them because it's just me being insane as per usual

[rubberbandballqueen]

hmm i have like, 500-600 taiwan dollars leftover in a tin from the last time i visited relatives... i wonder what would happen if i just handed it to my little cousins like. "yep. here is gift. have fun."

[medicinemane]

The world is set on prescriptivism and... it doesn't jive with me

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[dollfacefantasy]

MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡

pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)

a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.

Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.

It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture

Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.

"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.

"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"

The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.

"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him. 

Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.

"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.

He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.

"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.

Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.

It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.

His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.

"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.

"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.

But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.

"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.

"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."

"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.

"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.

His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"

"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.

Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.

But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.

"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.

"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.

"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.

"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."

And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.

"You wanna bet?"

You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."

And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.

You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.

As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.

You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile. 

Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.

He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.

"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.

"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.

"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.

Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.

Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.

The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.

Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.

He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.

With each passing hour, his frustration grew.

Today, it reaches its zenith.

The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.

The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.

Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.

In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.

He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.

Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.

All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.

But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.

You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.

Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.

Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.

"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.

He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.

"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.

"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.

"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.

He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.

"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.

That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."

He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.

"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."

"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.

He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.

It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.

The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.

You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.

Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.

He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.

Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.

He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.

"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"

His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.

"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.

He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.

You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.

He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.

It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.

A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.

"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.

He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."

That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you. 

"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."

"Say what?"

"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."

He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.

"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.

Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."

He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.

The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?

To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.

"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."

He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.

You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.

The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.

"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.

"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.

"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.

"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.

With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."

You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.

"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.

This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.

He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.

Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.

"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.

A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.

"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.

"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.

"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.

Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.

"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.

His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.

You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them. 

It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.

"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."

"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.

"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.

His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.

Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.

"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."

You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.

"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.

"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.

A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.

He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.

"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.

"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."

Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.

"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."

"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"

Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."

"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."

"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.

Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.

With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.

"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."

Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.

He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler.  Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.

A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.

When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.

His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.

You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.

He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.

His head turns to meet your loving gaze.

"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.

You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.

The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.

Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion.  He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.

All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.

Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him. 

"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.

Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.

"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.

Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going. 

"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."

"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.

"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.

"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."

"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.

"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."

Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.

"See you tomorrow, Scott."

"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dinner prep engagement ♡

a/n : aaaand its finally here, the final part of the ring pop proposal miniseries after decades !!!! im sorry it took me so long to write this final part yall, i just finally felt enough inspo to write it and im super happy w how it came out ! i hope yall do too ! lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist ! much luv xx

fem reader, literally pure fluff between mama n son, katsuki gets emotional very quickly bc i believe he does and you cannot make me think otherwise, a lil emotional but pure sweetness, mentions of making dinner, lmk if i missed sum else !!

this time, mitsuki has no idea what her son is planning. sure she’s had her hopes for years now, and her suspicions, but nothing truly concrete.

that is, until she gets a call in the middle of the night.

"katsuki..hello ?" she answers groggily, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her eyes. she checks next to her to make sure she hasn't woken her husband up, her eyes dart over to her digital clock " 'ts one in the morning."

"uh..hey." her son's gruff voice sounds over the phone, she raises a brow at his hesitant tone of voice, but she let's him continue "yeah, i know. sorry.." he mumbles out.

the older woman shakes her head affectionately "it's fine..is there something you wanted to talk about ?"

it's silent on the other end for a while until katsuki mumbles something. "katsuki, you know i can't hear you if you don't speak up." she scolds lightly, causing him to growl under his breath.

"not..not right now, no--just..can i come over tomorrow ?"

taking in her silence for hesitance he continues " it's nothin' bad..i just--feel like it's something i needa say face to face, i guess.."

"okay..yeah, of course. you know you can come over whenever you want." she urges "is yn comin' along ?"

"no, she isn't." she can practically hear his eye roll and it makes her smirk "she'll be busy tomorrow anyway so, not this time. i'll tell her you said hello though, since you're always tellin' me to."

she's about to retort when katsuki speaks again, only not to her. she hears what she knows is your voice quietly chatting with him as he reassures you that he'll be right there with you and for you to go back to bed. the soft tone in his voice makes her eyes soften.

never could she ever have imagined her katsuki ever speaking so softly to anyone, because her katsuki is, despite having calmed down over the years, still quite the brat. (she's pretty sure she knows where he gets it from now..) he's still temperamental when interviewers and journalists get on his nerves. he's still awfully moody , but he's different now. he's just a little bit gentler with the way he handles kids or older women who's cats have gotten stuck in trees. complaining that this isn't his damn job but still doing it anyway with utmost care as the kitties sink their sharp claws into his skin or cling to him for warmth.

he's a still a little rough around the edges but it's the thought that counts. he's different than when he was younger, but he still is the most different with you. his rough and gruff voice that he uses to bark out orders and complain, complain, complain, he uses so softly around you, keeping you as calm and sleepy as possible. it's not perfect, but he manages to usher you back to your room to sleep, and that makes the thought count so much more.

"m'gonna go now." he warns, his mother hums in agreement, telling him she'll see him tomorrow and he reciprocates the goodbye.

"night, ma."

"night, kiddo." she grins, a happy sigh leaving her when she hangs up the call and lays back down. cozying herself up next to her husband.

she's had her suspicions and her hopes for a while now, but she can't be too sure what her son could possibly want from her tomorrow.

katsuki comes back home like he's never left.

the day goes like any other day would've went a few years ago when he was still living in the family home. mitsuki almost expects her son to run off upstairs to do his homework.

he greets his dad with a half hug, and is forced into a tight embrace by his mother, which he grumbles about. grumbles turning into a growl when she grips his cheek, scolding him for not greeting his mother properly.

it's a lot of catching up from the few months he's been busy with hero work. talking about his latests achievements and his quick climbing of the hero ranks, accompanied with barely suppressed smiles and softened eyes when you're brought up. mitsuki remembers how nervous he'd been when he'd told her he was planning on asking you to move in with him, so she's happy to hear from the both of you, since she has your number and you like to catch up every now and then, that everything was going well. though she already knew it would.

katsuki volunteered to help with dinner, his mother happily agreeing saying she could use some help. it makes her a little bit nostalgic and she wills herself not to get teary eyed at how much her son has grown.

but she sees that the opportunity has presented itself to bring up the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue the entire day now.

"so.." she sings "you wanted to talk about something, right ?"

katsuki stiffens like he'd forgotten, although his expression stays the same besides the slight squint of his eyes. the rhythmic cutting of vegetables has stopped and it takes him a moment before he speaks quietly like he's revealing a secret.

"i wanna ask yn to marry me."

oh.

so that was it.

"oh." she breathes immediately. a broad smile slowly grows onto her face and she beams "took you long enough, ya brat !" she exclaims, slapping her sons muscular arm. he growls lowly at her, leaning away from her though she remains undeterred. poking at his sides while he tries to smack her hands away.

finally, she relents "when are you gonna ask ?" she asks excitedly. katsuki huffs, eyebrows still heavily furrowed from her earlier attack. he turns back to the cutting board "soon. i arranged my schedule and we'll both be free, so in two weeks from now."

"you already have a ring ?"

he grunts in agreement. and mitsuki besides being proud of the fact her hunch was right, feels her heart warms at the burst of nostalgia of her little boy. her katsuki, kicking his feet in the backseat of her car. tightly gripping his bag of ring pop candies he'd give to you the next day. her little katsuki, who'd proudly claimed he was going to marry you when he grew up in that very same car, exclaiming that he'd proposed to you with those very same candies he'd almost had a tantrum over her not getting.

her little boy, who'd gotten oh so big, and so, so much more enamoured with you.

"good." she utters sweetly, voice just a bit wobbly "good. that's great, katsuki."

he nods to himself " i've thought about it for a while now..long while." he scoffs to himself, eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him. "got the whole day planned out too."

"yeah ?" he nods. her eyes soften as he speaks mostly to himself, he's had this little self hype up habit ever since he was a boy. trying to calm himself down and reassure himself. it's a smart move, but as strong and mature as he is, katsuki is nothing more than human. and anxieties can creep up on the best of us.

she's seen it before, and she sees it again when he bites his bottom lip in thought, and she smiles softly.

and again, she coaxes him into it " that sounds nice, looks like you got it all planned out, huh?"

and he nods again. but it doesn't take him, long before he breaks.

"..what if she says no ?"

and mitsuki wants to laugh. she really does, because the thought of you ever saying no to him sounds absolutely ridiculous to her. she snorts. shaking her head while her son looks at her incredulously.

"katsuki.." she tuts, chuckling to herself before she looks up at him. "you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. you've got it."

his eyes widen, then her son's expression drops as he raises a brow "how do you know that ?" his words make her smile widen this much more and she really wants to laugh.

how does she know. she scoffs

she knows because she knows him. she knows her katsuki better than anyone else, he's her son. she knows he's rude, rowdy, quipy, temperamental and everything else. he's all of that and so much more.

and yet you still love him. you're still so incredibly patient with him, you still offer him all of your kindness despite him once confessing to her he doesn't understand how you do. despite all of the times he's messed up, the times he's fallen down, you stay by his side you care for him, you care about him.

she knows her katsuki is absolutely infatuated with you, he always has been. from tantrums about being separated in class and knowing your favourite ice cream flavour to him being overly protective over you when you were paired up with your lab partner that ended up not being him and to him wearing the stupid stuffy tux mitsuki tailor made for him to take you to prom.

you've always been his number one best friend, but he's always been yours as well : he loves you, but you love him just as much.

and so mitsuki smiles "call it mother's intuition. and, not to brag, but i think most of my hunches have been right by now" and it widens when katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes at her boasting, another bratty little habit he has that he's practically mastered over the years. she sighs, spreading her arms out towards him "well come over here. you've gone and gotten so damn tall, i can't reach you myself !" her son rolls his eyes again, but he scoffs softly to himself and with a shake of his head, he closes the distance and hunches over to hug his mother. she wraps her arms around him tightly and he grumbles when she squeezes but he doesn't try to get away.

"there's nothing for you to worry about, katsuki. absolutely nothing." she repeats, rubbing his back. "you love each other, and that's more than enough. just be yourself, it's been working out for you this far..somehow." she jests. katsuki scoffs indignantly but they both end up chuckling about it. after a few more seconds they pull away and mitsuki pats her son's chest with a sniffle. right on top of his heart that she knows, she's seen, has gone through oh so much.

but still remained entirely yours throughout all the years and still so so so enamoured with you.

gripping onto his shoulders, she whispers "you got this." the glossiness in his eyes is impossible to miss, he's always cried very easily. but she guesses she mirrors his expression exactly. her son is the spitting image of her after all. she places a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

"thanks, ma" he whispers sincerely. and mitsuki feels her heart soar.

"any time."

during dinner, katsuki announces the news to his father. who after getting over his shock immediately wraps his son into a hug. congratulating him and encouraging him with teary eyes, she knows where katsuki gets that from, before they all settle down to have dinner before katsuki leaves a few hours later. waving off his mother's insistence to pass you a greeting with a grumbled acknowledgement.

she shakes her head as her and her husband watch him drive off but her heart is full of pride.

"we raised a killer son didn't we ?" she giggles looking back at masaru, who agrees with a smile as they share a laugh.

and the next time you both come over, you're giddy. unable to keep your excitement in check as you keep excitedly looking back at katsuki, who finally relents with an affectionate sigh and you happily show off you're ringed finger with a squeal.

mitsuki squeals right back, wrapping you up in the tightest bear hug she could. masaru takes his turn hugging you, sweetly congratulating you both. of course, they'll tell you they both new in advance, but that was all for later.

sure, she didn't know what her son was planning in advance, but she had her hunches and her funny feeling from all those years ago that you'd be sticking around. she guesses it's good enough that she was the first to be told.

she sends her son a proud and teasing smile when they make eye contact. he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face doesn't fade as he watches you talk with his father. she doesn't have to say a single word for him to know what she's saying.

i told you so.

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[tofixtheshadows]

You guys really need to stop and consider the ways you're talking about Kabru I am dead fucking serious. Like I know that flattening characters is just what fandom does to a certain extent, but Kabru's actual personality is getting lost to the fandom hivemind insisting that he's aggressive/cruel/sociopathic/hateful, and these are particularly concerning takes to see leveled at the only brown character in the main cast day after day. "My poor sweet golden child Laios needs to be protected from this scary brown man" is not a good look! Like, it's very telling that the bulk of the hate and bad faith readings are reserved for Toshiro and Kabru. Everyone else's flaws get to be discussed and validated and forgiven (or erased), meanwhile people are straight making up things to be mad about with Toshiro and Kabru but patting themselves on the back for being smart.

The worst part is how undeserved it all is. I'm trying to lay off anime-onlys because we're still kind of in the red herring stage of getting to know Kabru, but I would still like to gently suggest that even if you think Kabru is up to something, you don't gave to get in the tags of every fan creator's post and bring up how you hate him or You Can Tell he's totally evil. Sometimes I think Kabru's blue eyes give people license to say things about his appearance that they know would sound completely racist otherwise, but referring to his blue eyes acts as a get-out-of-racism free card. The jokes about the dog with brown contacts are getting old, by the way.

For people who have read the manga, it's disappointing. Kabru is one of the most complex and important characters in the story, and if you base your interpretation of him and all your fandom interactions on shallow first impressions you are completely missing out.

I know part of this is because Dungeon Meshi is a comedy, but the story also wants to be taken seriously. For example, it's admittedly really funny when Chilchuck calls Laios "sick in the head", but that doesn't change the fact that the way Chilchuck casually belittles Laios caused him to hide the fact that he was "hallucinating" from his friends for weeks. Those feelings matter.

Like, this

is funny.

But this?

Is not. This is just a very clear example of a brown boy with PTSD. As someone else with PTSD, just looking at this fucking sucks, man.

The only reason why Kabru thinks about killing Laios is because he is in the middle of a flashback. He's struggling through a panic attack. If he truly wanted to kill Laios because he's violent or because he finds Laios inherently annoying, he wouldn't otherwise talk with Laios normally. Notice how he doesn't act this way at any other point in the story- it's just because he's triggered by monsters. Even when he's thinking about his plans to "deal with" Laios later, he's reluctant to actually kill him and only considers it to prevent another tragedy. Despite his deadly skills, Kabru relies far more on "soft" power- insight, persuasion, diplomacy. He's a rare example of a character who absolutely is, or at least can be, manipulative, but seems to use his abilities for good. He's not a pathological liar, he isn't looking down on everyone behind a smile. He's someone who is extremely emotionally intelligent, and he's willing to put aside all his own basic wants and needs to stop the cycle of dungeons devouring humans.

I'm going to cut a potential thesis on his character short and just give some examples of things that fandom should consider about his personality more:

Racism in fandom isn't just about whitewashing in fan art, or using racial slurs. The insidiousness of bad faith readings, reductions to racist tropes, lack of fan content for characters of color, and dismissal of a character's complexity are far more common. You can believe yourself to be completely neutral or even positive about a character and still churn out low-grade bile about them into fandom's collective unconscious. Fandom reflects real life.

And I have been around fandom long enough to see how these behaviors (mostly from my fellow white fans) affect fans of color, how it makes a fandom feel hostile and unwelcome to them. It's fun to make jokes and memes, I'm absolutely not saying that everything needs to be a deeply nuanced take, but we need to be careful that it doesn't veer into toxicity. Please think about how our contributions to fandom come across, and what sort of vibes they cultivate in this communal space.

[pearlzier]

now playing . . . cowboy by tyler the creator 𓈒⠀ ✧

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀warnings / smut, cheating, random ass boyfriend called josh, reader is wearing a skirt, oral (m!receiving), p in v, public kinda (they're outside in the garden), unprotected sex (idk no mattlings running around yetzies)

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀word count / lots of words like over 2k probably ??

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀author's note / i got so carried away this was supposed 2 be a drabble LMFAOOO have fun w this :3

"THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND. YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER, ALRIGHT?" is what he was told, the moment he met you.

and he listened. he really tried to. until he couldn't anymore. until he had you pinned against the wall of his friend's house, creaming on his dick. it sounds insane, it probably was, but matt was a man pushed to his last straw with a very pretty girl at the end of it. you can't blame him for that, even if it does sound cruel. to be honest, his initial resilience and resistance of temptation should've been a dead giveaway to the way he would fall into the claws of desire so hard.

matt didn't think much when he heard that josh had gotten a girlfriend. he was happy for his friend, glad that he'd found someone. he didn't expect you to be drop dead fucking gorgeous. to be so pretty. he had to do a double take when he first saw you, absolutely stunned. josh wasn't that bad looking, no, but.. to pull a girl like you was a massive feat for anyone. you're like, so fitting for josh. but at the same time, that makes you fitting for matt. of course you are.

he's fully aware of how he stared at you the first time he saw you, which caused josh to say—"that's my girlfriend. you stay the fuck away from her, alright?"—bringing him out from the daze of lewd thoughts and inappropriate positions his brain had already put you in. was he a shit friend? probably.

this resulted in matt having a bit of a staring problem as you'd called it. it wasn't creepy or anything, it was actually appreciated and polite. albeit very much loaded. it was like you knew he was head over heels for you and decided to dangle your affection infront of him in some form of torture. it was not fair how he had to hide his boner around you. absolutely torture.

he couldn't hang out with josh like he used to simply because of your presence. and you fucking knew it too, you tease. it was your favourite thing to wear the tiniest clothes around him or simply bat your lashes and giggle in the most adorable way. matt was pretty sure you wanted him dead, just from how amazing you were. once again, at a party held at josh's place, he's day dreaming a little taking you in. his blue eyes flicker over you, he swallows thickly, glancing down at the soda he had in his hands. he'd barely drank any of it, if any. too distracted by your presence.

trying to focus his attention on something else, he glances away from you, focusing his attention on some other girls dancing together. they want his attention, you just.. capture his attention without even trying. until you actually did try to get his attention, flashing him that soft little smile when your eyes met his. he has to practically force his jaw shut after it drops at the sight of you. he's so whipped for his friend's girlfriend.

matt curses himself for the way he glances away like a little kid when you meet his gaze, and he knows you most definitely saw it. he swallows hard, trying to focus on somerhing but you once more. it becomes impossible when he feels a presence which he knows is most definitely you beside him. his mouth goes dry.

"hi, matt," you say, all coy, like you don't know the exact effect you have on him. matt glances up at you, trying not to seem as awkward as he feels. his lashes flutter as he tries ro come up with a response that feels chill, not.. insane. "hey," he settles on—it's simple, casual. doesn't betray the thoughts in his head.

the smile on your glossy lips only grows at that. it's like you can see directly through him into his soul. your eyes rake over him for a moment, as you consider what to say, "you havin' fun?" you watch him, waiting for a response even if you know exactly how he's feeling. matt goes quiet, brain whirling once more in an attempt to seem normal. "sure," he starts, "just.. y'know.." great job, matt. he seems so normal, right? great.

the laugh you let out at his response has his gut tightening along with his jeans, and he swears he can feel his heart in his throat for a moment. matt runs his fingers through his hair, playing with his rings in a nervous movement. "y'know?" your words are soft, curious, as if coaxing him to continue. he really doesn't want to, but he does, anyway.

"uh," matt scratches the back of his neck, an awkward chuckle slipping past his lips. you don't think its awkward at all, no, you think it's adorable. endearing. he's adorable. "a little bored, i guess, but.. never really been much of a party guy," his blue eyes meet yours again and the intensity, the tension, makes him glance away once more. you laugh again, making his cheeks flush.

"bored? here? m'surprised, everyone's like.. having the time of their lives," you're not wrong—everyone is having the time of their lives.

"i could think of plenty of other things that would constitute as the time of my life, this isn't one of 'em," matt snarks playfully, finding himself comfortable with you almost instantly. you have this vibe, this comfortable aura that makes people relax and chill out. trustworthy, in a way. "i get it, don't worry. besides the dancing and people and.. things, it's not that entertaining." he can agree with that, and he nods, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leans back against the wall.

this allows him a moment to take you in. he shouldn't have done that. that once over only made his thoughts about you worse. horrifically worse, oh god. matt glanced at the ceiling as if the faint stain on it was interesting. it wasn't. he'd much rather leave stains with you on some sheets. even he cringed at his own thoughts. "come outside with me," you offer after a moment. everything about you oozes innocent but matt can't help but think you're anything but. he thinks about josh and swallows, mumbling, "i don't think josh would like that very much."

"he's not here right now, is he?" you remember very vividly josh had gone out to grab some drinks for the party with another friend of his, having headed to the convenience store near his house. which left you with free reign of the party, and the chance to do whatever you fucking pleased. and you wanted to do matt. the obvious answer.

matt's a tiny bit stunned by your words and he blinks slowly, processing for a minute before his brain catches up and he nods quickly, pushing off of the wall with an eagerness he's embarassed at. "you're right," he starts, "yeah, okay," he nods towards the door leading outside to the back garden with the hot tub and such. he's a tiny bit nervous you're playing with him, to go back and tell josh what he's doing, however you seem just as into this as he is, and he nods once more.

he takes the lead, glancing back frequently to check you're still there. you are, thankfully, and he gains a tiny bit more confidence. "you look nice," he murmurs, quiet, so if you didn't hear him he wouldn't have to repeat himself. you did hear him, however, and you feel flush at that. that soft smile only grows more, "thank you. can say the same," matt laughs softly, glancing away bashfully. he holds the door for you, delighting in the way your soft body brushes against his. he wants to feel more. wants to feel you under him, above him, around him.

it's cool outside, an easy breeze that contrasts to the warm heat of bodies within the house. you visibly relax which makes him relax too. he's quiet, you're quiet, the two of you making your way to a quiet part of the garden. it's sort of an alley, the bit between the back gate and the house itself. he likes how private it is. "so," matt starts, "so," you respond in return. it's not an awkward silence, but gentle. he laughs softly, he doesn't even know why. you're just so pretty it makes him giddy. and he says it. "you look so pretty."

"you think i look pretty?" you know you look pretty. when don't you?

"uh-huh," he nods, gently. "real pretty," he swallows hard. you overwhelm him. "sometimes i think—" he shouldn't go down that rabbit hole, especially not infront of you.

but he'd already gone too far, you'd heard him. "you think what?" you're always so attentive and inquisitive, he hates it. not really, he adores it, but sometimes he wishes you'd let things slide more often. matt curses under his breath, blue eyes soft.

"sometimes i think about if you were mine," matt's voice is quiet, almost scared as to how you'll react. he thinks you'll flip out at him, slap him, call him insane. but you don't, a soft looking appearing in your eyes. you look at matt with this gentle curiosity that coaxes him into saying more; "because you're.. you're just so gorgeous, and sweet, and funny, and you smile at me when i'm having the shittest days ever and i just fucking wish you weren't with josh because god, i'd make you feel so good, baby," he doesn't think twice about calling you baby and you don't think twice about how good you feel when he says that.

"now you're just begging me to kiss you," your tone is playfully soft, and matt looks a tiny bit weary, like he's scared you're joking. his plush lips are parted, soft puffs of air slipping past, "kiss me?" he asks gently, blue eyes innocent in how surprised he is. you want to kiss him?

you decide to answer without words, gently grasping at his hoodie and drawing him in for a gentle kiss. your lips meet, a soft groan slipping past matt's lips almost instantly. his hands hover around your waist, as he's scared to touch you, like he doesn't deserve to, so you gently mumble against him, "you can touch me," just to make it crystal clear you're okay with this. his lips are soft, gentle, his mouth tasting faintly like the soda he'd been drinking and a faint vanilla lip balm that made his lips so plush. your lips are equally soft, the glitter of your lip-gloss transferring to his lips and leaving a glittery sheen on them.

matt lets out a soft whine when your lips have to come off eachother, to simply get air. fuck air, he thinks to himself, but he doesn't say it outloud. "josh," he says gently, his brain immediately thinking to the worst scenario. you, however, don't look fussed. "what about him?" your relaxed demeanour and absolutely no worry in your gait makes his cheeks flush more, but also a confidence grow within him. he quickly grasps at your hips and brings you into him, thumbs stroking over the fabric of your skirt.

"nothing," he says quietly, practically breathing you in. the smell of your perfume made him dizzy. he wanted to suffocate in it. god, if you heard his thoughts.. "no—nothing about him," he slides his hands over your sides, and he's trying to resist the urge to grope at your body. "nothing, ma," he wants to kiss you again. "can i kiss you again?"

"mhm," you hum gently, preening into his touch with your eyes lifting up to his. your smile only grows, a giggle slipping past your lips once more. "i suppose so." matt eagerly slips his hand down to your ass, grasping gently to tug you impossibly closer before he presses his lips to yours again. his tongue brushes yours, and you eagerly reciprocate it again. as he grasps at your ass, your hands slide to his arms and hold yourself against him.

"god, you're so pretty," he murmurs against your lips, whimpering the words out gently. you slide your hands up and down his arms, making a shiver flutter down his spine a little. "s'not fair, how come he gets you?" his voice is whiny, like he really can't believe that you're his, even if he wants you so bad.

you raise your brows, "you're getting me right now." your words are a soft reminder, that he shouldn't think about his bestfriend, your boyfriend at this very moment. matt practically melts the moment you drop to your knees infront of him. he glances around frantically for a second as if josh is gonna pop out of a bush or something. this feels like a dream, like it's not real, but your fingers tugging on the zip of his jeans was very much real.

"are you not uncomfortable?" of course that's what he's worried about. your comfort. it's adorable how his blue eyes search yours to find any hesitation. he doesn't find any.

"m'fine, don't worry yourself 'bout it, matt," he's dreamed of this before. woken up with his boxers sticky at the thought of you on your knees for him. he swallows thickly, "okay," he breathes out, sounding a little on edge.

matt whines under his breath when you tug at the zip, his chest rising and falling in gentle breaths whilst he watched you. the cold air hits his thighs when you manage to tug down the denim previously covering him, and he lets out a nervous little laugh. "oh my god," he mumbles, he'd never thought he'd have you like this. your fingers brush his legs, making him practically buckle at the knees. "you don't have to, i mean—" he'd fully planned on being the one to make you feel good, but from how eagerly you're tugging at his boxers, he's pretty sure he'll get to wait.

"i want to, though," there's such certainty in your voice. it's attractive.

he swallows thickly when he feels you tug down his boxers, a quiet yelp slips past his lips. his tip leaks precum, clearly having been doing so for a while now considering the stain on the front of his boxers. matt would feel embarassed if it wasn't for how badly he wants to fuck your throat till you cry, pretty tears on your cheeks. he's so hard, it almost hurts. "you look so good," he mumbles quietly, "oh, god."

your eyes flutter over him, taking in the sight of his cock appraisingly. "says you," matt blushes instantly at your words, "me? pretty? that's just because my dick's out, isn't it?"

"that too," you shrug, running your fingers up over his thigh. the touch is light, and you realise you like touching him a lot. the faint shiver in his leg, the way he watches you so attentively at every tiny movement—you feel wanted. so, so wanted. more than josh ever made you feel. he instinctively pumps his hand on his cock, a pitiful whine slipping past him as his head tilts back a little. he hasn't even been touched yet, and he's yours. he thumbs his slit for a moment, coaxing more precum to drip. smearing it over the swollen head, he gently guides it to your mouth, watching as the tip pushed against your plush lips. "is this okay? do you—is this.." matt doesn't know why he's so nervous. he'd been with plenty of girls before so this isn't anything different, but it is. you're amazing.

"you're worried," you start, "but i wanna make you feel good," words mumbled against his tip, you leave little kisses as you speak—"let me," you say softly, watching as he strokes his cock once more. matt's hesitant for another moment, scared of making you uncomfortable, before he decides to let go of those fears and just go for it. his hand slides to the back of your head, cradling as he tugs your mouth onto him, watching your plush lips stretch to accommodate his girth. the sight is gorgeous, a gasp escaping him as he watches you.

"holy shit," he's gentle with you, wanting to worship the land you walk on in this very moment. your pretty eyes on his as you gag around him a little, grasping at his thighs to steady yourself. your lips leave a little gloss imprint on him, a quiet giggle coming from him at that. but he's also giddy about how warm your mouth feels around him, and the urge to just start thrusting his hips is palpable. "you feel so.." his hips move in gentle, shallow thrusts, trying not to go too far. you moan around him, a pretty sound which makes him whimper again.

your lashes fluttering as you swirl your tongue around the tip, making a mess of him as your drool runs in globs down the sides of his cock. he likes the way you struggle a little, but his head's fuzzy at how good you make him feel. "so, so good, ah, ah—" matt makes the prettiest noises, eyes squeezing shut the moment he starts rutting his hips against you, bullying his dick further down your throat. "fuck, fuck, shit.. like that.." he mumbles under his breath, hands drawing you closer by the back of your head.

it doesn't help the way you start to bob your head, his thighs tensing beneath your touch as he whines, "so.. fuck.. makin' me feel so good, baby, uh-huh," you have to breathe through your nose to take him as deep as you want, which is deeper than matt had anticipated. not that he was complaining. you felt so good, your mouth so warm and wet around him. more precum leaks from his tip at your motions, and you swallow for a moment slowly, the salty taste making you moan around him.

that makes his thighs tense once more, a quiet whimper bubbling from his throat before it drops into a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he grunted out, "gonna cum, shit.. mmh, gonna—gonna cum," thick, white ropes of cum spurt as he lets go, warming your throat and painting its surface. he holds you close still, even as you swallow down his load, his chest rising and falling in quick breaths.

he looks so pretty like this—all blissed out and weightless from how good you'd just made him feel. his lashes flutter, blue eyes now on yours as his eyes open, and he stammers out quickly, "i'm so sorry, i didn't ask, i just assumed that.. that—"

"it's okay, hey," you liked everything he was doing. it felt good. you enjoyed swallowing whatever he gave you, it wasn't like you weren't enjoying yourself. the awkward way in which he handled his feelings towards you made your heart warm, a soft, nervous smile playing on his plush, pink lips now. "yeah?" he asks gently, swallowing hard. he's got an idea, brewing in his head. "okay. uhm, here, uh.."

he glances down at himself, embarassed at how hard he still is despite the fact he'd just came down your throat. but he's got a plan to fix that, as his hands slip down to help you back up. "here.." he mumbles, a little clumsy in how he handles you but it's still way more.. comfortable than it is with josh. even when you're outside against a brick wall. "is this okay?" he asks, running a ring-clad hand over the curve of your thigh for a moment before he presses you against the wall, letting your back come against it.

"this is okay," even a simple, is this okay, has you soaked. he's so considerate.

"it is?" he asks, gently, fingers brushing the hem of your underwear, tugging slowly with a curl of his index and middle.

"you're worrying," you murmur, expression soft.

"just wanna treat you right," matt says gently, tugging down your underwear finally. you flinch a little at the cold air hitting your wet cunt, his blue eyes following the string of your arousal clinging to your panties from your hole. he swallows thickly at the sight, sliding your underwear into his pocket for safe keeping. it'd be a miracle if you got those back after. "make you feel as good as you made me, baby," he shifts you against the wall.

you're pretty sure you're dripping down your thighs, and matt can't help a bashful smile at the sight. "up," he says gently, and you oblige, lifting your legs to hook around his waist so he holds you up with his body. it's an interesting position, but this is an interesting predicament, you suppose. "thank you," he says gently, unable to stop himself. he feels.. just.. amazing.

"what are you thankin' me for?" you giggle, head tilting. you're trying not to focus on how good you feel as the head of his cock glides over your folds, parting them gently enough to rub against your clit. he hasn't even been inside you yet and you're pretty sure you could make a mess right there and then.

"lettin' me have you," matt says it like it's obvious, scoffing a little at the way you look at him so curiously. his hands slide down to your thighs, gripping and tugging you closer to hold you up and give himself leverage to slide into you. he pumps his hand over himself once or twice, smacking the head against your cunt before he slowly starts pushing into your tight hole. a whine escapes both of you when he does so, the tight stretch making both you and matt shiver. "oh god, oh.."

if he could stay buried in you forever, he would. if you could have him in you forever, you would. he stretches you so good, a little muffled whimper coming from you as you'd nuzzled into his shoulder to keep yourself steady. "matt," you whine, "so good," he revels in your praise, a fluttery feeling in his stomach at how you seem to adore him. matt's careful, easing himself into you till he bottoms out, fitting snug within your sensitive pussy.

his head tilts back with a groan, content to just stay there like that, but he can feel you grow a tad bit impatient with a little rock of your hips. "i got you," he says with a little nod, slowly easing back before he rocks his hips forward again. he does this a couple more times till he finds an easy rhythm, the slickness of your pussy allowing him to just slip in and out. "is this o—"

"matt, it's fucking okay," he can't help but laugh at the way you snap st him, your words shaky as you watch the way his cock disappears into your tight hole, the wet sounds making your stomach feel all fluttery just like his. the rhythmic sound of skin slapping against skin makes you feel all the more connected to matt, your eyes searching his. "it's okay, more than—shit, mmh.." you just make the perfect sounds as he gradually finds himself pounding into you, hands holding you up against him.

his movements are a little sloppy and clumsy, a testament to how badly he wants you, wants you to feel good, wants to feel the way you clench around him when you cream on him. "like that, like that, shit, fuck me like that," your whimpers only make him thrust harder, his eyes locked on the bounce of your tits with everytime his hips meet yours. every inch of you is intoxicating for him.

"you feel like heaven, baby, god," he grunts out, feeling the way your tight walls squeeze him, practically trapping him there. he keeps it up, free hand lifting to palm at your chest, gently squeezing. he can't help himself, and you can't help but cry out louder. the music of the party is loud enough to mask your sounds anyway, you're sure of it. "this pussy, mmh, could die right here, poundin' your tight cunt, baby."

"uh-huh? yeah?" you coax, feeling your head spin as he hits every spot. his tip hammers into that gummy spot inside of you that makes you cry out with every hard thrust of his hips, and he groans under his breath as you start to clench around him again. "shit, matt, m'gonna cum, i can't, gonna—"

"yeah? yeah? me too, me too, baby, c'mon," he squeezes at your chest once more before his hand slides back down to your thighs, his thrusts only becoming more forceful, making your legs tighten around his waist and inner walls squeeze him even more. "me too, cum for me, cum with me, i got you, that's it, that's my girl," his hips stutter once more, especially when you cream on his cock like that, his blue eye falling instantly to the way your release oozes down him. it soon mixes with his own, a lewd, wet sound squelching out as he pulls out from you a moment after.

his chest rises and falls in heavy breaths, as does yours, recovering from how intense your orgasms were. even then, he feels like he could go again. a million times. maybe after a second, you'd definitely go again too. he's about to go to speak when he hears a call pull up outside, most definitely josh, and your eyes widen, "matt—"

"my place," he tells you, no negotiation in his tone. he wasn't done with you. he doesn't think he'll ever be done with you.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor , @sturncakez , @luverboychris , @sirenedeslily , @evrithingbagel , @sl4ttformattsturniolo , @mattsturnihoe , @aphroditepjo , @mazzystar111 , @flouvela , @stonermattsgf , @str4wberryk1ss3s