#MY KNEES ARE RATTLING

[jangmi-latte]

BNIAEFUOWDCKSMDOQEMIOSMDCKLNVNWKODMSKCWELIDLIEWNFSIODCNKALSMOINJSMCLSDVKMSAJCBSLMAKJBSILCAKSJCNLSIJFUIDSHJASNDKJBDOIWECOIDFBVOPACHJDBFOPWACKBD??1?1??22??2?1!?24?!23423!2_8372!:9'981!?1?12?1$?1?$2?JNIUHIKnaxkidnoiqmwauinxnOaiwndoiqmoJNWKEKFLIWNDOIASJOISJECIOD

THIS AIN'T NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS THIS IS A WET DRE—

[somebluemelodies]

i think a lot about how q!Roier, who’s been figuratively and literally backstabbed/betrayed and faced loss time and time again to the point where having faith became a reluctance, told q!Cellbit at their wedding: “te amo. te amo con todo mi corazón”

like, yeah, it feels like a given in a sense, considering they were getting married and were really close by then, but knowing how much weight “te amo” has over “te quiero”… ough. and then he reaffirms it and adds “with all my heart” ??? OUGH

[savs-sims98]

I made this and I honestly cannot stop staring at it XD. Like damn, he's just gonna take Sylvannah right there in Avernus when it's already hot as hell.

[that-weird-skeleton-bastard]

WE👏🏻NEED👏🏻MORE👏🏻SKELETON👏🏻PROTAGONISTS

AND I MEAN LEGIT SKELETONS, NOT SOME DUDES WEARING SKELETON MASKS/ARMORS, OR SOMEONE WITH JUST A REALLY STRONG SKELETON THEME.

GIMME FUCKING BONE BLORBOS DAMMIT

[theworldisabrokenbonebutitishome]

Kang Yo Han is the walking embodiment of I'm Not Okay (I Promise) and relates to Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge far more than is healthy. In this essay I will-

[ghosttotheparty]

love me softly p11

part ten

Steve lets Eddie play his tapes while they do homework. Or rather, while Eddie does his homework and Steve gazes up at him while laying on the floor of the van next to his legs. Eddie occasionally reaches down and bops him on the nose just because it makes him giggle, and Steve’s giggle makes Eddie think God might actually exist.

Somehow he actually manages for focus on his homework, even with Steve staring at him almost the whole time. Steve doesn’t say anything at all, even when Eddie thinks out loud and whispers to himself about the work, even when Eddie fidgets just reaching down and twisting his fingers in Steve’s hair, probably pulling on it too hard, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind.

As Eddie is starting on his next assignment (a packet from literature, which isn’t nearly as daunting or dreadful for him as chemistry), Steve sits up and moves to sit across from him, his back to the wall as he pulls his backpack close. Eddie rereads the excerpt on the front page as Steve is getting settled, and he glances up after a while as he’s flipping the page to see Steve staring down at his notebook, his brows furrowed and lips pursed in concentration.

“Steve, you’re distracting me.”

Steve looks up, blinking at him adorably in confusion.

“I’m not doing anything,” he says, his pencil still hovering over the page.

“Yeah, but you’re so cute it makes me a little stupid. I forgot how to read.”

Steve’s cheeks turn pink and he rolls his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head, and even his eye roll is adorable. Eddie lets out an ugh.

Steve just laughs softly.

By the time Eddie finishes, Steve is almost done with his drawing,but he doesn’t notice Eddie putting away his school stuff. So Eddie leans back against the wall of the van and gazes at him. Watches the way his eyes move back and forth across the page, listens to the pencil scratches and the slide of his hand over the paper.

“Can I help you?” Steve asks when he finally notices Eddie staring, glancing up before he keeps drawing.

“Not really,” Eddie says lightly. “Just admiring.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“And yet.” Eddie sighs heavily, slumping back and grinning. “I’ve heard you really like me.”

“Who told you that?” Steve asks, acting shocked.

“Some pretty little birdie.”

Steve shoots him a look over his notebook before he keeps drawing.

Eddie watches.

Steve’s hair is falling in his face as he works but he doesn’t seem to notice at all, ignoring it as he works in silence, drawing and leaning his head back against the wall to analyse the paper. He frowns when he analyses it, almost pouting. Eddie wants to kiss him.

Eddie grins slowly when Steve’s head starts bobbing in time with the music. Steve doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it, absently nodding as he draws.

“Steve Harrington,” Eddie says slowly. Steve looks at him over his notebook. “Are you dancing to Diamond Head?”

Steve’s eyes squint under a smile and he looks back at the notebook.

“Don’t think nodding counts as dancing.”

“But… Diamond Head moved you.”

Steve snorts.

“Sure, Eddie.”

Eddie coos, leaning forward, and Steve’s eyes find his above the notebook. He’s smiling.

“I’m gonna make you a metalhead.”

“Sure you are.”

“You should get an electric guitar,” Eddie says. “We can start a two-man band.”

Steve just shakes his head.

“No? King Steve and the Freak? Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

Steve shoots him a look, glaring half-heartedly, his smile faltering.

“I don’t like when you call yourself that,” he says, his voice softer.

Eddie shrugs lightly.

“‘S what they call me.”

Steve blinks at him, and his smile fades completely. He nods a little bit like he doesn’t know what to say, and then he looks back at his drawing, but his hands don’t move.

“Hey.” Eddie reaches out and carefully takes the notebook, raising his eyebrows to make sure it’s okay, and Steve lets him, his hands falling. Eddie takes his pencil next, setting it on top of the notebook before he moves forward, gently pushing Steve’s knees apart so he can settle, kneeling, between his legs.

“Hi,” Steve says softly.

“What is it?” Eddie whispers. Steve looks up at him, his hands in his lap, and Eddie takes one, lacing their fingers. Steve’s head rests on the wall.

“I don’t like how they all treat you,” he says quietly, almost sullenly, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

Eddie tilts his head, moving closer so Steve’s legs rest over his.

“I know,” he says. “It’s okay, Stevie.”

“How are you so fine with it?” Steve asks, his brows furrowed, frowning again in that way that makes him look like he’s pouting. Eddie bites his lip, touching his cheek.

“I’m used to it,” he says, shrugging.

“You shouldn’t be,” Steve says adamantly, leaning toward him, pressing his face into Eddie’s hand. “It shouldn’t happen enough for you to get used to it. It’s fucking bullshit, Eddie.”

Eddie smiles, letting go of his hand to hold Steve’s face gently.

“You’re the coolest guy I know,” Steve adds shyly, still pouting. “You’re not… a freak.”

Eddie sighs, moving closer to him, pulling Steve closer and pecking him gently before he shifts so he isn’t kneeling, wrapping his legs around Steve.

“You wanna know why I embrace being a freak so much?”

“Tell me,” Steve whispers.

Eddie pauses to find his words, resting his hands on the sides of Steve’s neck, gazing at Steve’s lips.

“When I say that I’m a freak, I’m… taking ownership of it. I’m making the word mine. So when those assholes say, like, Oh, you’re so such a freak, and I just say Yeah, I am, I’m taking it from them.”

Steve blinks at him, listening, hanging onto every word.

“And then they don’t have anything to use against me,” Eddie says. “Because that’s mine. They can’t use it if I’m agreeing with them.”

Steve’s lips curve into a soft smile.

“And I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Eddie adds. “Being a freak.”

“Why not?” Steve asks quietly. One of his hands lifts to Eddie’s wrist, holding it so gently it almost tickles. Eddie leans close and presses a kiss to his chin.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being different,” he says softly. “‘M not hurting anyone. People just hate when other people don’t conform.” He pauses. “I think everyone has a little freak inside them. Even if they don’t know it.”

Steve’s eyes are shining thoughtfully, and he’s smiling that tiny, barely-there smile. (Eddie wants to take a picture of him posed like the Mona Lisa.)

“I think you’re cool,” Steve whispers.

“I think you’re cool too.”

“Even if I’m a dumb jock?”

“You’re not dumb, Stevie. And yes.”

“That’s sweet.”

Eddie presses a finger under Steve’s chin and makes him tilt it up before he leans in and nuzzles his face into Steve’s neck. Steves fingers push into Eddie’s hair and play with his curls as Eddie’s lips press to Steve’s skin.

“You smell good,” Eddie murmurs, opening his eyes to find the moles on Steve’s neck and press kisses to them.

“You smell like weed. And cigarettes. And… cinnamon?”

“Yummy.”

Steve laughs softly, digging his fingers into his hair. There’s a triangle of moles on his neck that look like a constellation, and Eddie kisses them before he hesitates, looking. Steves fingers tug lightly. Eddie leans down and traces the moles with the tip of his tongue, smiling when Steve exhales shakily.

Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him until their chests press together, and he closes his eyes. Steve’s fingertips scratch and his scalp, and he wants to fall asleep.

“You finished all your homework?” Steve asks quietly. His voice is rumbly in Eddie’s ear.

“Yes,” Eddie says sassily. “Obviously.”

“Mhmm.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay. Thanks, boyfriend.”

Eddie giggles, hiding his face in Steve’s neck.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop making me blush?”

“But you’re so pretty when you blush.”

“Only when I blush?”

“You’re always pretty, Eddie baby.”

“Oh my god.” Heat floods his face, and he’s glad Steve can’t see him. “You’re really putting the moves on now, aren’t you?”

Steve just laughs softly and turns his head to kiss Eddie’s temple.

part twelve

read the whole thing on ao3

taglist: @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @vecnuthy @thehumblefigtree <3

comment to be tagged in part 12 :)

[hang-on-lil-tomato]

What was the song at the end of OMFD finale

it’s not this, but reminded me of this Irish inspired anthem from Dylan.

[landprince]

[tvrningout-a]

that scene from just between lovers where the male lead gets the female lead to yell back at him bc she's clearly always holding everything in?? i'm constantly thinking about it and how someone should do that to chiyo

[lovelyunholyc]

ik i finished that thing for vash but i want knives so much more and i cannot for the life of me find a fic that will scratch my itch

[sylvctica]

sampo is sylviecore is all i'll say

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash

Chapters 36-37

Had it been like that in the iron coffin?

Aelin gave no indication that the smothering dark bothered her, and had shown no inclination to illuminate their way. Hadn't even summoned an ember.

But the Little Folk, it seemed, had come prepared. And within heartbeats of entering the pitch-black river passage, blue light had kindled on a lantern dangling over the curved prow. Not light, not even magic. But small worms that glowed pale blue, as if they'd each swallowed the heart of a star. They'd been gathered into the lantern, and their soft light rippled over the water-smooth walls. A gentle, soothing light. At least, for her it was so.

Before Aelin had been given an ancient Faerie Queen's crown, her birthright and heritage.

The queen had stashed Mab's crown in one of their packs, as if it were no more than an extra sword belt. She hadn't spoken, and they had not asked her any questions, either.

Instead, she'd spent these past few hours sitting in the back of the boat, studying her unmarked hands, occasionally peering into the black waters beneath them. What she expected to see beyond her own rippling reflection, Elide didn’t want to know.

He'd crawled after Maeve on the beach to save Aelin. And he had found her during her escape-had ensured Aelin made it out. Did it wipe away what he'd done in summoning Maeve in the first place? Even if Maeve had set the trap, even if he hadn't known what Maeve intended for Aelin, did it erase his decision to call for her?

The last time they'd spoken as friends, it had been aboard that ship in the hours before Maeve's armada had arrived. He'd told her they needed to talk, and she'd assumed it was about their future, about them.

But perhaps he'd been about to tell her what he'd done, that he'd been wrong in acting before Aelin's plans played out. Elide stopped twisting the ring.

He'd done it for her. She knew it.

But the queen sitting silently behind them, no trace of that sharp-edged fire to be seen, nor that wicked grin she'd flashed at all who crossed her path ... Two months with a sadist. With two sadists. That had been the cost, and the burden that Aelin and all of them would bear.

That silence, that banked fire was because of him. Not entirely, but in some ways.

The collar had not been real. But the army Maeve had summoned was.

A blink into the gloom was the only indication that he was aware of her every movement. Aelin breathed in his scent, let its strength settle into her a bit deeper.

Their paths would meet again, or they would not. And if he found the final key and then brought it to her, she would pay what the gods demanded. What she owed Terrasen, the world.

Yet if Dorian chose to end it himself, to forge the Lock ... her stomach churned. He had the power. As much as she did, if not more so.

It was meant to be her sacrifice. Her blood shed to save them all. To let him claim it ... She could. She must. With Erawan no doubt unleashing himself on Terrasen, with Maeve's army likely to cause them untold grief, she could let Dorian do this. She trusted him. Even if she might never forgive herself for it. Her debt, it was supposed to have been her debt to pay.

Perhaps the punishment for failing to do so would be having to live with herself.

Having to live with all that had been done to her these months, too.

The blackness of the subterranean river pressed in, wrapped its arms around her and squeezed.

Different from the blackness of the iron box. The darkness she'd found inside herself.

A place she might never escape, not really.

Her power stirred, awakening. Aelin swallowed, refusing to acknowledge it. Heed it.

She wouldn't. Couldn't. Not yet. Until she was ready.

She had seen Rowan's face when she spoke of what his deception with the collar had prompted her to do. Had noted the way her companions looked at her, pity and fear in their eyes. At what had been done to her, what she'd become.

A new body. A foreign, strange body, as if she'd been ripped from one and shoved into another. Different from moving between her forms, somehow. She hadn't tried shifting into her human body yet. Didn't see the point.

Sitting in silence as the boat was pulled through the gloom, she felt the weight of those stares. Their dread. Felt them wondering just how broken she was.

You do not yield.

She knew that had been true—that it had been her mother's voice who had spoken and none other.

So she would not yield to this. What had been done. What remained. For the companions around her, to lift their despair, their fear, she wouldn't yield.

She'd fight for it, claw her way back to it, who she'd been before. Remember to swagger and grin and wink. She'd fight against that lingering stain on her soul, fight to ignore it. Would use this journey into the dark to piece herself back together-just enough to make it convincing.

Even if this fractured darkness now dwelled within her, even if speech was difficult, she would show them what they wished to see.

An unbroken Fire-Bringer. Aelin of the Wildfire.

She would show the world that lie as well. Make them believe it.

Maybe she'd one day believe it, too.

Days of near-silent travel passed.

Three days, if whatever senses Rowan and Gavriel possessed proved true. Perhaps the latter carried a pocket watch. Aelin didn't particularly care.

She used each of those days to consider what had been done, what lay before her.

Sometimes, the roar of her magic drowned out her thoughts. Sometimes it slumbered. She never heeded it.

They sailed through the darkness, the river below so black that they might as well have been drifting through Hellas's realm.

She hadn't asked him why he remained in his wolf's body. No one asked her why she remained in her Fae form, after all.

Rowan straightened, eyes sparking at her question-or at the fact that she'd spoken at all.

He'd kept by her these days, a silent, steady presence. Even when they'd slept, he'd remained a few feet away, still not touching, but just there. Close enough that the pine-and-snow scent of him eased her into slumber.

Silence at the order, even from Rowan. Aelin pointed to the lip of shore by the cave mouth. "Stop the boat," she repeated.

The queen had been reckless before Cairn and Maeve had worked on her for two months, but it seemed she'd had any bit of common sense flayed from her.

"Well, I don’t have any, so forgive me if I remain alert." No, she'd once told him that while magic flowed in the Lochan bloodline, she had none to speak of. He'd never told her that he'd always considered her cleverness to be a mighty magic on its own, regardless of Anneith's whisperings.

"It will take time for her to readjust."

She stared at him with those damning eyes.

He braced his forearms on his knees. "We got her back. She's with us now. What more do you want?" From me, He didn't need to add Elide straightened.

Elide straightened. "I don't want anything." From you.

This was where they'd have it out, then. "How much longer am I supposed to atone?"

"Are you growing bored with it?" He snarled.

She only glared at him. "I hadn't realized you were even atoning."

"I came here, didn't I?"

"For whom, exactly? Rowan? Aelin?"

"For both of them. And for you." There. Let it be laid before them.

"I told you on that beach: I want nothing to do with you."

"So one mistake and I am your eternal enemy?"

"She is my queen, and you summoned Maeve, then told her where the keys were, and you stood there while they did that to her."

"You have no idea what the blood oath can do. None."

"Fenrys broke the oath. He found a way."

"And had Aelin not been there to offer him another, he would have died." He let out a low, joyless laugh. "Perhaps that's what you would have preferred."

She ignored his last comment. "You didn't even try."

"I did," he snarled. "I fought it with everything I had. And it was not enough. If she'd ordered me to slit your throat, I would have. And if I had found a way to break the oath, I would have died, and she might very well have killed you or taken you afterward. On that beach, my only thought was to get Maeve to forget about you, to let you go-"

"I don't care about me! I didn't care about me on that beach!"

"Well, I do."

This was what came of opening that door to a place inside him that no one had ever breached. This mess, this hollowness in his chest that made him keep needing to make things right.

"Resent me all you like," he said, damning the hoarseness of his words. "I'm sure I'll survive."

Hurt flashed in her eyes. "Fine," she said, her voice brittle.

He hated that brittleness more than anything he'd ever encountered. Hated himself for causing it. But he had limits to how low he'd crawl.

He'd said his piece. If she wanted to wash her hands of him forever, then he would find a way to respect that. Live with it.

Somehow.

Gratitude shone in her eyes.

Rowan only gave her a nod. Don't worry about it.

Yet Aelin turned away, shutting off that silent conversation as she surveyed the space.

Time. It would take time for her to heal.

Even if he knew his Fireheart would pretend otherwise.

So, Rowan looked, too. Across the tomb, beyond the sarcophagus and treasure, an archway opened into another chamber. Perhaps another tomb, or an exit passage.

"We don't have time to find a way out,"

Rowan murmured as she strode into the tomb.

"And the caves remain safer than the surface."

"I'm not looking for a way out," she said in that calm, unmoved voice. She stooped, swiping up a fistful of gold coins stamped with forgotten king's face. "We're going to need to fund our travels. And the gods know what else." Rowan arched a brow. Aelin shrugged and shoved the gold into the pocket of her cloak. "Unless the pitiful clinking I heard from your coin purse didn't indicate you were low on funds."

That spark of wry humor, the taunting … She was trying. For his sake, or the others' maybe her own, she was trying.

Rowan gave the Lion a slashing grin. "You heard the lady."

A flash ruptured from where Fenrys had been sniffing at a trunk of jewels, and then a male was standing there. His gray clothes worn, but intactin better shape than the hollowed-out look in his eyes.

Aelin paused her looting.

Fenrys's throat bobbed, as if trying to remember speech. Then he said hoarsely, "We needed more pockets." He patted his own for emphasis.

Aelin's lips curved in a hint of a smile. She blinked at Fenrys—three times.

Fenrys blinked once in answer.

A code. They'd made up some silent code to communicate when he'd been ordered to remain in his wolf form.

Aelin's smile remained, just barely, as she walked to the golden-haired male, his bronze skin ashen. She opened her arms in silent offer.

To let him decide if he wished for contact. If he could endure it.

Just as Rowan would let her decide if she wished to touch him.

A small sigh broke from Fenrys before he folded Aelin into his arms, a shudder rippling through him. Rowan couldn't see her face, perhaps didn't need to, as her hands gripped Fenrys's jacket, so tightly they were white-knuckled.

A good sign—a small miracle, that either of them wished, could be touched. Rowan reminded himself of it, even while some intrinsic, male part of him tensed at the contact.

A territorial Fae bastard, she'd once called him. He'd do his best not to live up to that title.

"Thank you," Aelin said, her voice small in a way that made Rowan's chest crack further.

Fenrys didn't answer, but from the anguish on his face, Rowan knew no thanks were in order.

They pulled away, and Fenrys cupped her cheek. "When you are ready, we can talk."

About what they'd endured. To unravel all that had happened.

Aelin nodded, blowing out a breath. "Likewise."

She resumed shoving gold into her pockets, but glanced back to Fenrys, his face drawn. "I gave you the blood oath to save your life," she said. "But if you do not want it, Fenrys, I ... we can find some way to free you—"

"I want it," Fenrys said, no trace of his usual swaggering humor. He glanced to Rowan, and bowed his head. "It is my honor to serve this court. And serve you," he added to Aelin.

She waved a hand in dismissal, though Rowan didn't fail to note the sheen in her eyes as she stooped to gather more gold. Giving her a moment, he strode to Fenrys and clasped his shoulder. "It's good to have you back." He added, stumbling a bit on the word, "Brother." For that's what they would be. Had never been before, but what Fenrys had done for Aelin .. Yes, brother was what Rowan would call him. Even if Fenrys's own—

Fenrys's dark eyes flickered. "She killed Connall. Made him stab himself in the heart." A pearl-and-ruby necklace scattered from Gavriel's fingers.

The temperature in the tomb spiked, but there was no flash of flame, no swirl of embers.

As if Aelin's magic had surged, only to be leashed again.

Yet Aelin continued shoving gold and jewels into her pockets.

She'd witnessed it, too. That slaughter.

But it was Gavriel, approaching on silent feet even with the jewels and gold on the floor, who clasped Fenrys's other shoulder. "We will make sure that debt is paid before the end." The Lion had never uttered such words not toward their former queen. But fury burned in Gavriel's tawny gaze. Sorrow and fury.

Fenrys took a steadying breath and stepped away, the loss on his face mingling with something Rowan couldn't place. But now wasn't the time to ask, to pry.

Aelin continued picking her way amongst the treasure, however. She'd been more selective than the rest of them, examining pieces with what Rowan had assumed was a jeweler's eye. The gods knew she'd owned enough finery to tell what would fetch the highest price at market.

"We should go," he said. His own pockets were near to bursting, his every step weighed down.

She rose from a rusted metal chest she'd been riffling through.

Rowan remained still as she approached, something clenched in her palm. It was only when she stopped close enough for him to touch her that she unfurled her fingers.

Two golden rings lay there.

"I don't know the Fae customs," she said.

The thicker ring held an elegantly cut ruby within the band itself, while the smaller one bore a sparkling rectangular emerald mounted atop, the stone as large as her fingernail. "But when humans wed, rings are exchanged." Her fingers trembled-just slightly. Too many unspoken words lay between them. Yet now was not the time for that conversation, for that healing.

Not when they had to be on their way as swiftly as possible, and this offer she'd made him, this proof that she still wanted what lay between them, the vows they'd sworn ...

"I assume the sparkly emerald is for me," Rowan said with a half smile.

She huffed a laugh. The soft, whispered sound was as precious as the rings she'd found for them in this hoard. She took his hand, and he tried not to shudder in relief, tried not to fall to his knees as she slid the ruby ring onto his finger. It fit him perfectly, the ring no doubt forged for the king lying in this barrow.

Silently, Rowan grasped her own hand and eased on the emerald ring. "To whatever end," he whispered.

Silver lined her eyes. "To whatever end." A reminder-and a vow, more sacred than the wedding oaths they'd sworn on that ship.

To walk this path together, back from the darkness of the iron coffin. To face what waited in Terrasen, ancient promises to the gods be damned.

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand.

"I'll make the tattoo again." She swallowed, but nodded. "And," he added, "I'd like to add another. To me—and to you."

Her brows flicked up, but he squeezed her hand. You'll have to wait and see, Princess.

Another hint of a smile. She didn't balk from the silent words this time. Typical.

He opened his mouth to voice the question he'd been dying to ask for days now. May I kiss you? But she pulled her hand from his.

Admiring the wedding band sparkling on her finger, her mouth tightened as she turned over her palm. "I'll need to retrain."

Not a single callus marked her hands.

Aelin frowned at her too-thin body. "And pack on some muscle again." A slight quiver graced her words, but she curled her hands into fists at her sides and smirked at her clothes—the Mistward clothes. "It'll be just like old times."

Trying. She was dredging up that swagger and trying. So he would, too. Until she didn't need to any more.

Rowan gave her a crooked grin. "Just like old times," he said, following her out of the barrow and back toward the ebony river, "but with far less sleep."

He could have sworn the passageway heated. But Aelin kept going.

Later. That conversation, this unfinished business between them, would come later.

[bat-luun]

theres this actually really awesome secret part of growing up called the Everythinghurts!! it when everything fuckin hurts for no reason

[chelarts]

so incredibly normal about unknown the series right now . soooooo normal

[heyitzbud]

My desk is actually dangerous for me i think this is the 5th time ive scraped my fucjing knee getting up in a matter of weeks. Idk if i readjusted my chair or desk or whatever accidently but ouchies

My bf literally bought childproofing corner covers so i could put then on 😭

[hoshigray]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ Do Your Job, Pretty Maid~! ꒱ ˎˊ˗ | jjk men

୨୧ choso, kento, satoru, suguru, sukuna & toji × how their sweet maid takes care of them...or tries to.

contents: JJK men x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - size difference (true form! kuna) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - masturbation - threesome - protected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - sir/Master kink - sex toys - impact play (spanking) - degradation + humiliation - clitoral play - overstimulation - more stuff specified in their respective perspectives - satoru + suguru's parts are combined.

word count: 5.2k

a. note: going on another trip for two weeks, so here's a lil present while I'm m.i.a :3

₊˚⊹♡ Kamo Chōsō ⋮ oral (f! receiving) - clitoral play (licking + sucking) - pussy-drunk! choso - sqůirtǐng - pet names (baby, cutie, sweetie).

“Choso, please—Mmm…! We mustn’t…”

“Shhh, not so loud, sweetie…”

You cover your quivering mouth with your hands, eyebrows kneading together with toes curled inside your loafers, and thoughts running rampant at the sight of your master’s head buried within your skirt.

You were supposed to be dressing your master for an event that he’s supposed to attend, and you were almost done making him presentable for the occasion, combing his silky brown hair–usually kept in pigtails–down to his nape and spraying him with his cologne before buttoning his white loose long-sleeve. 

However, he stopped your hands at the third button, the pale skin of his pectorals present to your eyes. Swiftly, you avert your gaze to his to see what’s wrong, only to yelp when he slumps to his knees and pulls you to him by your lower half, his face nestled to the groin of your skirt. 

Of course, you tried to pull him off. “Master Choso, this is not the time!” You lecture him, trying to yank him off without messing up the hair you put so much work into making it nice and tidy! But his arms wrap around your legs tightly, pulling you in further.

“No, I can’t,” you can see the hint of pink enflaming the helixes of his ears. “I need this…need you,” his face is pushed deeper into the crevice of your thighs, the material of your apron and skirt not a bother being an obstacle. “You smell so good…”

“Choso, please, you mustn’t,” your eyes dart to the door to make sure it’s closed – thank God! “You have to get ready for the—“ Your breath hitches when a pair of caramel eyes peer in your direction, half-lidded with intentions that are NOT suitable for this time and place.

“Please, baby,” Oh God, that fucking name he calls you. You chew your lips to repress a whimper. “Just for a few minutes, okay?”

You can only take his words for what they are — an unguaranteed promise to cling to while you sit on Choso’s armchair, mewls escaping past your lips as your master ravishes you inside your skirt. 

Choso’s soft lips kiss your wet folds, a shiver rattling your spine as you struggle to compose yourself. Your legs writhe and squirm, his slender hands playing with the garters of your undergarments and grasping the flesh of your thighs. His tongue nestles in between your inner labia, swooshing and slurping whatever his tastebuds can gather. And the groans he makes as he feasts on you are utterly dumbfounding — staggering your senses as his delightful voice travels through the walls of your insides. 

Fingers scrape the arms of the chair, and your mouth falls to an ‘o’ shape, yet nothing comes out besides silent wails. His tongue flicks around your clitoris feverishly before sucking on it, and your thighs fight to jerk and clamp his head in. The noises of his feasting get louder and louder, the heat on your face picking up with every lap from the flat of his wet muscle. 

“Master Choso…!” The named brunet pushes his tongue into your entrance, and you shrill with feet lifted from the floor. “Nnnm! Not too…fast!”

“Gonna cum, sweetie?” He coos while lathering your cunt with his saliva. “Gonna be good and cum on my tongue, right?” 

“Hmmnn, no, not now!” You shake your head — not like he could see it from the barrier of your skirt. “We can’t! You have to be out there…people are waiti—Nnng!”

“I know, baby, I know,” another suck to your clit has your hands grab for the top of his head. “But cum for me this one time, ‘kay? Just one time…”

You couldn’t retort back as he pushed his tongue back inside, fucking you with the muscle to the point of balled fists. Losing balance, you slump on the chair and submit to the pleasure between your legs. Choso holds your legs by the back of your knees, pushing his face further to guzzle and play with your chasm easily. Ohhhh, shiiiit…!

“Ch-Choso, wait a minute!” You lift your skirt to stop the master, but the image of him eating you out did more bad than good. His jaw is wet from being latched to your soapy cunt, and his nose bumping to your clit forces you to twitch. “Wait, stop iiiit…!!” But it’s too late; your muscles contract more frequently than not and then begin to loosen once you hit your peak.

Your eyelids go shut, and you howl as your vagina flutters on Choso’s tongue while your urethra releases a watery substance that sprays around the vicinity of your skirt. Choso gets the better end; the clear liquid hits his face and sprinkles around your thighs and clothes. But that doesn’t stop him from sucking your essence, coating your vaginal walls and his tongue. He moans with you, your trembling figure bucking subtly while he gulps your high.

Mind is wholly fogged, yet your duties and responsibilities remain present, which is why you’re ashamed to see that the master is drenched from your arousal after you’ve put so much effort into making him look dapper — especially his hair, now it’s all messy and a bit wet! “Master, I told you to–ahhh–wait!”

Choso lifts his face and rests your legs on his shoulders, licking his lip and wiping his cheek with his sleeve — not the shirt, too! “Sorry, but you just tasted too good, cutie.”

You groan with a heavy sigh. “…Well, now I must grab a different shirt and fix your hair again. Hope you’re satisfied with yourself.”

“Guilty,” He doesn’t bother hiding the small, charming, cheeky smile; it almost made you forgive him for this endeavor.

₊˚⊹♡ Nanami Kento ⋮ sex toy; vibrator - oral (m! receiving) - masturbation - clitoral play - pet names (baby, love, sweetpea) - cameo: Shoko (phone call).

“…And that’s the report Ijichi handed regarding the last mission.”

“Good. What about from Gojo-san’s part?”

“Hmm, well, he hasn’t been…”

Was Nanami listening to the words Shoko was retelling? Sure. However, that wasn’t where his entire focus was. But then again, he has to ensure your voice isn’t picked up by his phone. After all, he’s sure you wouldn’t want his peer to know you were in the same room as him…thrusting a vibrator into your chasm while sitting on his desk.

You, his maid, came into his office to give him his typical afternoon tea, sprinkling the tea cup with warm water to exfoliate the earl grey and cream aroma. Nanami was busy on a call with Shoko, the doctor, who gave him updates on the missions that had occurred this week. A serious matter that required his attention, of course…well, most of it at least.

His eyes peer at you as you insert two sugar cubes into the tea cup and swirl them around with the spoon, noticing how eerily silent you are. How your fingers lightly tapped on the desk surface, and your lips shook slightly. And he knows why you hadn’t said a word; sure, he was on a call, but that’s not the half of it. The button he presses on the remote stuffed inside his pocket was, though, and your hand on the desk balls into a quick fist.

Now, you look to him, shaken by what he did. Trembly lips open to say, “Master…don’t do that…” 

The blonde man lifts his brows, ears deaf to what Shoko’s saying, and presses the button again. This time, your hands rush to your lips to suppress a yelp. Your thighs come together to rub against each other, a gesture that pulls a smile on Nanami’s face.

“…But that’s just typical Gojo fashion, ya know?”

“Honestly, I can’t agree more.” He says aimlessly, too observant with you in his view. “Hold on a second, Ierie-san.” He presses the mute button and crosses his arms. “What’s the matter, sweetpea?”

Knowing that you can finally speak, you whine freely while running to his chest for him to catch you. “Master, pleaseee…!” God, you can’t stop rubbing your thighs!

“What is it, love?” He brings your chin up. Good Lord, you looked so cute and desperate. “Tell me.”

“Please, can I take this off!?” You lift your skirt, and low and behold, your panties are out for display. However, the white wire from your undergarments connected to the clip-on on your garters catches the man’s eyes. “It’s too much…and I can’t work with it!”

He smirks at your complaint and rubs your cheeks. “Sit,” he points to the desk for you to sit on, and you hesitantly follow his orders. Nanami takes the mute off the call. “Sorry, Shoko, something came up on my end, and I gotta take care of it. See you tomorrow?”

“No problem, Kento. Talk to you later.”

Now, with his friend out the way, you can finally have his whole mindfulness. As you spread your legs for him, the man runs a hand through his golden locks. “Show me what’s going on, baby.”

You waste no time in taking your underwear off with your master’s assistance, rolling up to your leg. Without the cotton barrier, your lower regions show the wire stuffed inside your wet cunt. His thumbs come to spread your folds to inspect further. “Damn, you’re so wet for me.” 

Your breath hitches as Nanami swipes his fingers around your vulva, coating his digits with your wetness as your nerves are at their peak. “Master Kento, please…remove iiit…!”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says with a chuckle, pulling on the wire string ever-so-slowly. You lay on your back as the thing connected to the wire stretches your entrance, peaking out of your hole thanks to the leisure force. Biting back a moan, Nanami pulls out the soft pink bullet vibrator crammed inside your swollen chasm and leaves you breathless for a second, gripping your skirt as your legs shudder. “Look at you, so beautiful.”

“Kentoo…” your hand wraps on his, gripping your thighs. “So good…”

“Yeah, feel good?” He blows on you. “Wanted me to take care of you like always?” You nod hurriedly to his amusement, and he licks your labia for you to wail. “Mmmm, my sweetpea…” Your legs have a mind of their own as Nanami licks your aching folds, bucking lightly to the point of you essentially riding his tongue—the blonde smothers your vulva with slobber, covering your private with him and your juices. 

A free hand finds his hair to grab as you throw your head back and sigh heavily, sinking into the feeling of being eaten out by your superior. It feels way too good; after half an hour of having the vibrator stuck inside your slit, you’ve been walking around feeling nothing but sensitive to do even the most basic tasks. But now that Nanami is taking you out of your sole misery and fucks you orally, you can finally relax and experience the euphoria you’ve been yearning for.

…At least until his phone rings again, causing the man to lift his head from your legs to your dismay: another business call, this time with the boss, Yaga. Nanami’s mocha eyes dart to you, and he coos to your disheveled self. “Sorry, love, gotta take this.”

“B-But…!”

“In the meantime,” he hands you the vibrator. “Give me a show.”

You take the toy silently, begrudging, trailing it back down to your cunt for you to thrust in and out of your venture. And the moans you let out are divine to Nanami as he presses the green call button.

“Yes?… Yeah, I’m alone.”

₊˚⊹♡ Gojō Satoru & Suguru Getō ⋮ threesome - oral (m! receiving) - clitoral play (grinding + pinching) - missionary position - protected sex - pet names (baby, cutie, pumpkin, sweetie).

KNOCK–KNOCK!!

“Yo, Suguru, are you in her—WOAH!?”

“Uuugh, fuck, are you serious, Satoru? Can’t wait for me to tell you to come in?”

Oh, this had to be the worst day of your occupation life!

You weren’t supposed to be here; you were meant to be with the other maids around the fortress who needed a helping hand setting up guest rooms or preparing the feast for tonight. Today was big: your master’s best friend was coming over for the weekend. All hands on deck are necessary to make sure his attendance is welcome. Nevertheless, you end up trailing out of your tracks because your master, Getō Suguru, pulls you into his room without anyone noticing a thing. 

The action left you bewildered, especially when he greets you by smashing his lips onto yours, exchanging murmurs and soft moans with each other while his hands grope and fondle whatever part of your body can reach. Of course, you try to retaliate, telling the tall, young man that he’s a terrible host for his friend and should be out there with him! But that doesn’t sway him at all, throwing you onto his bed and unbuckling his pants with a bitten lip. “He can wait,” he says in a sing-song tune, childishly pushing off his responsibilities. “But I can’t,” he crawls on top and kisses you passionately. “Wanna play with you a little more, ‘kay, sweetie?”

And who are you to refuse his request? You submit to him and let him spread your legs…What you did NOT expect, however, as you both seemed to forget to lock the door! And it’s worse, Geto’s best friend, Gojō Satoru, is the one to catch you both in the act. Are you fucking serious?!?

Gojo closes – and locks – the door for your sake. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t knock, right?” The taller man waltzes in as if he owns the place. You, under Geto’s bow, who is shirtless and whose cock is plugged inside your chasm, hide your face away from this mortifying experience. “Plus, what kind of host are you? Leaving me out there to wait for you for fifteen minutes.” Geto rolls his eyes as the white-haired man sits on the bed. “Now, who is this taking up all your attention?”

You don’t say a single word, concealing your shamed face behind your palms. God, just kill me!

“This is the new maid I told you about,” Geto admits with a grin, kissing your ankle. “They’re a pretty little thing…Hey, baby, don’t hide when introducing yourself.” The raven-haired man removes your hands from your face to your sorrow; pairs of blue and violet eyes survey you intimately. 

Gojo coos, coming to your side. “Oh~, this is the new cute maid?” You don’t know if you like the way his gaze travels around your body, nor the way your vagina squeezes onto Geto’s girth as his friend rubs circles on your tummy. “What happened to your shirt?”

“This cutie went ahead and squirted on me,” you gawk at his blunt explanation; was there no other way to phrase that, you dummy!? “That’s why they’re a lil’ sensitive right now.”

His best friend piqued Gojo’s interest, “Is that so?” The hand on your stomach slithers down to your clitoris to grind on, and you jolt haphazardly. “Awww, you like that, princess?” Now it’s his turn to smirk mischievously. “Must be nice being used by your master, huh? And with an audience, too!” 

“N-Noo!” You gasp from a pinch to your clit. “Master Gojo, please look awa—Aiiissh!!”

“Ehhh, and miss this view?” Gojo feverishly swipes on your clitoris while pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ve been dying to meet this new, cute maid that Suguru can’t keep his eyes off. Now, I see what’s got him all hot and steamy.”

“Ahhhh, shiiit, keep getting tight…!” Geto curses under his breath, snapping his hips to your tight slit. “Hmmm, I think they’re starting to like ya, too, Satoru.”

“Really? Aren’t you just adorable,” the snow-headed man claims your lips with his, shoving his tongue inside your mouth to drown. You whimper as he sucks on yours, toes curling as he cups and gropes your chest. “Fuck, so sweet…Hold on, lemme have a turn.” 

Geto clicks his teeth. “You can wait, fucker. I’m trying to finish here.”

Gojo rolls his eyes yet straightens up to unzip his pants. “Fine then…Hey, pumpkin, can you suck me off a bit?” The taller man whips out his erection from the slide of his pants and boxers, and your mind nearly goes to a halt at the sight of the curved limb.

“Go on, don’t wanna leave our guest waiting, right?” Geto does nothing to make this situation any easier to go through, rutting his pelvis into you frantically to chase his orgasm. You are left with no choice and open your mouth with a loose jaw, and Gojo takes the initiative to insert his cock inside. “That’s my baby…Hnngh!”

Gojo fucks your face with a slow start before his flow follows with his dark-headed companion. The curve of his dick fills your mouth so much that your head gets fuzzier as he keeps thrusting into your lips. “Shiit, that feels good,” he murmurs above you, cradling your head gently as he stuffs your lips with himself.

The commotion on both ends of your body only furthers the headache forming and the heat from below flourishing all around. Still sensitive to your own high, your brain turns into mush, and you’re numb to the stimulation between your legs. Jesus, this was too much to keep up with; closing your eyes to help yourself succumb to the use of your body and allow the pleasure to course through. 

Geto watches from above and loves every second of it. The picture of you taking in his best friend’s cock while he fucks you good and deep is so good. Your mewls are muffled because of the length between your lips, yet music to the men’s ears. “Fuuuck, I’m going to…Oh shiiiit…!” Your master can’t stop hammering his erect limb into you, flexing his abs erratically until he nearly gives way to his knees and busts into the rubber shielding his load. His frame shivers with every jerk, making sure every bit of his come is excruciated out of him.

Gojo takes it all in with a whistle. “Ahhhh, damn, that looks hot as hell.”

“Mmmph, you…have no idea,”  The other man sniggers with a shaken head, sluggishly taking out his dick with the condom filled with his semen. After he takes it out and wraps the rubber, he throws a wrapped one to the snow-headed other. “Alright, time to switch.” The tall men share a look and switch places, Gojo now taking his place between your legs while Geto taps your lips with his girth until you suck him in. 

If only the bed could swallow you away from this bizarre scenario!

₊˚⊹♡ Ryōmen Sukuna ⋮ impact play (spanking) - [anal] fingering (f! receiving) - humiliation + degradation - Master kink - pet names (little dove) - mention of drool and tears.

“—Khhhh!! Ahhhh!! Owwww!!”

“Yeah, that’s right, cry for me, bitch.”

It’s not unusual for a handmaiden to be reprimanded for bad behavior or not adequately doing their tasks. However, if you’re serving the King of Curses, Lord Ryōmen Sukuna, those corrections are likely to happen more often than not. 

Imagine it: you’re bent over Sukuna’s massive legs, thighs so big and strong that you’re purchased with security if the firm hand gripping your wrists together wasn’t enough. Your skirt propped up, and your panties slid down to your knees, exposing your bare ass to the cool air of his chambers. However, that is swiftly transitioned to piercing heat and pain in seconds.

A hand comes striking down to your asscheeks — that had to be the twelfth time within these exact two minutes. The skin of your butt is nothing but hot; the man can feel it as he hovers the hand above them, making you shiver. Unpleasant tingling sensations course through the flesh, worsening with every new hit. And your throat is getting dry by how much you’ve been screaming. There is no way the other workers of this fortress haven’t heard your cries by now; you’re sure to be scrutinized by Uraume later today. Unbelievable…

Another smack to your butt pulls a yelp from your system, your body instinctively jolting from another rush of pain! Damn the huge lower left hand holding your wrists together. “—Hahh! Lord Sukuna, please! I beg you, please forgi—Iiiee!!”

“That’s all you’re good at, huh?” A dark chortle adds weight to your ongoing suffering. “Just begging and crying after I caught you being the little slut you are.”

Fuck, this couldn’t get any more humiliating enough. “My Lord, I’m so sorry for—Ahhckk!!” Another slap to your ass; this time, his nails dig into your flesh to extend your pathetic howl. And the thick digits of his lower right hand vigorously wiggle inside your vagina. You know your ass is going to be sore after this…

“Sorry for what: being a dumb clutz for knocking into things and breaking glasses left and right?” He bends to your ear to speak, and your inner walls squeeze his fingers helplessly. “Or going inside my room and touching things without permission?”

“I apologize for overstepping—Mmmph?!” 

“Goddamn, so fucking loud, you fucking pig.” Sukuna stuffs two fingers of his upper right hand into your mouth, lips involuntarily sucking onto them. Now, he lets your wrists go to watch them grab hold of his pants; the sight of your nails scratching onto them like reins strokes his ego. Nothing makes him gloried than seeing a little thing like you break bit by bit in his presence.

Your whines are muffled; the only time an attempt to keep you quiet was made. Cruel of him to do as his fingers relentlessly rub your texture, and he inserts his thumb into your asshole to enfold the same pleasurable torture. 

“Tell me, little dove, what excited you more: silently masturbating while sniffing my clothes on my bed,” tears form in your eyes from a harsh smack to your ass. “Or me catching you in the act? Because you didn’t seem to stop once you saw me.”

Please don’t talk about it! You can only complain within your thoughts, forced to listen to your misbehavior as a maid. And it’s torturous enough that your holes are clamping onto his fingers like crazy, eyes rolling to your skull from the scrape of your upper wall and the push and pull in your rear end. 

“Go ahead, you dirty whore.” The emphasis on the last word makes you twitch. “Admit how big of a slut you are in front of your Master, how you’re good for nothing than to act like a bitch in heat.” A soft ‘pop’ leaves your lips as he removes his fingers. “Go on.”

“—Nndaahh! I’m so sorry, Master, I’m so—Ohhhh!!” Sukuna’s fingers in your chasm curl, his fingertips scratching your insides mercilessly. 

“I didn’t say ask for forgiveness,” He scoffs.

It’s no use; the more you try to delay this, the dizzier you get. “… You’re right, master! I-I’m nothing but a sorry excuse of a maid who’s only—fuuuck!–only g-good at breaking things and not following orders!”

“And?” You can only imagine the most patronizing look he’s giving you. 

“A-And…acting like a total slut that likes to be—Mmmm!!” Sukuna rubs your hot, stinging butt, removing his thumb to switch with another pair of fingers to tease your anus. “L-Likes to be used like a fucktoy by Master…!”

He purrs at your confession. “There you go; wasn’t that hard being honest, right?” The fingers in your ass and cunt go erratic, your shrieks returning to bounce off the walls. “Exactly that, a worthless maid who thinks about nothing but their whorish self. Not even bothering hiding how much you’re enjoying this…”

You wish he were lying; however, he was right on the mark. You’re nothing but a good-for-nothing maid who’s getting off to being reprimanded by your own master. And the fact that you cry out to your lower half spasms to his touches and concede to your orgasm doesn’t help your case. “Taahhh, ahaahhnn, ohhhshit, so good…!”

Your entire frame quivers on him, crying out loud as your crescendo shakes your whole being to your very core. Drool has long escaped your mouth, tears streaming down your face, and your hands gripping his pants. Jesus Christ, this felt way too good! 

Sukuna clicks his teeth and pushes you off of his legs, your limp and dazed figure falling to the floor with no grace. “Tch, unbelievable. You really got a good high out of that, huh?” He looks to his lower left hand, which is smothered with your fluids.

“Haaahh, forgive me, Master…” Your throat is too weak and dry to utter sentences. But that doesn’t matter since Sukuna drags you back up to your knees by the scruff of your neck. Your eyes watch him unzip his pants and widen at the picture of his cocks springing out of his underwear.

“Quit speaking nonsense and do your job, you whore of a maid.”

₊˚⊹♡ Fushiguro Tōji ⋮ oral (m! receiving) - face+ throat-fucking - sir kink - musturbation (f! receiving) - facials - pet names (baby, doll[face], sweetheart).

“Hnnmm…ahhh shit, yeah, just like that.”

You chew your lips and swallow thickly. “Are you sure about this, Master?”

Forest green eyes peer down and pair with a crude grin. “Never said otherwise, baby. So keep goin’, yeah?”

“Yes…sir.” Your cheeks heat up, and your hands continue to stroke the erect shaft in your grasp.

A nice shower before heading for bed always hits the spot; nothing more rewarding than that after a day of going through hell and back. However, in Toji’s case, he loves them a lot more when you’re taking care of him and scrubbing his body clean of the stress and grit that taxed him during the day. 

And that means scrubbing all of him.

You were on your knees on the tiled bathroom floor while Toji sat on the rim of the bathtub, situated between his damp legs as his body was wet from the hot steaming water of the tub. Supposedly, you were meant to take care of his laundry while he was showering and bathing. However, at the moment, your hands were grasping onto his erection, coated in soap, smearing it onto every dent and crevice of his groin.

You can’t tell what’s making your head fuzzy: the warmth within this bathroom or watching the tip of Toji’s dick being sheathed in and out of his foreskin as you jerk him off. What you do know is that the latter was too irresistible to marvel at, causing your stomach to do knots and the heat between your legs to twitch your insides. How embarrassing to be aroused by such a situation in front of your superior of all people! 

And the worst part is the tiny glimpses you catch of your master panting and moaning because of your touch. His deep voice produces the most salacious noises as your fingers scrape around the glans to clean — you’ve been chewing on your lip nonstop because of them. The way you knead his balls with care has him hiss, and you nearly jump when he places his wet hand on your clothed shoulder.

Toji chuckles lowly, “Fuck, doin’ so good, doll.” He groans when you pour water onto his cock, cleansing the limb entirely with another dose. “Mmmm, feels good.” 

His praise comments make you bite your cheek. “I’m glad you’re pleased, Master. You’re all clean.”

An onyx brow is lifted. “I don’t think I’m all clean yet.” Your look of confusion humors him, even after he grabs ahold of his length to tap the tip with your mouth, and your eyes widen. “Still haven’t felt that mouth of y’rs, hon.” Your mouth opens to reject, but another tap to your lips halts you from saying any words. “C’mon, sweetheart; no one’s ‘round to stop you. Plus, you know how I like bein’ sucked off.”

He doesn’t leave you any room to argue your way out of this, not to mention how close his dick is to your face. “…Yes, sir.” No words are said after that as you begin to lend him your service, coating your tongue with spit to drizzle from the top to watch it slide down his shaft. All for you to swirl around the cockhead before loosening your jaw and intaking his tip with a hum. And the older man coos with a head back, “Good girl…Mmmm…”

You bob your head steadily, taking him inch by inch until he hits the back of your throat. While one hand massages his balls and the other strokes him, you suck and dirty his limb with your saliva. Ironic, isn’t it: doing as your master commands in making his cock “clean” by giving him a fellatio in the bathroom? The way you mewl as the underside of his cock brushes the flat of your tongue is crazy, and you can feel the squeeze of your vulva worsening as time goes on.

Your hips sway on their own the more you suck on Toji, getting more light-headed from sensing his cock pulsate inside your oral cavity. And he chortles again, “Heh, enjoyin’ y’rself?” You moan as he bends down to grope your ass above your skirt, certainly aware that you’re getting more aroused.  “What’re ya gonna do ‘bout that?”

The tip of his cock is released with the ‘pop’ of your lips, and your eyes lidded with bashful want. “Sir, may I please…finger myself?” Holy hell, your heart was pounding like crazy, even with how his spring-green eyes pierced through you. 

You gasp lightly when he grabs your hand and licks your fore and middle fingers, covering them thoroughly with his slobber. “Go on,” he sucks on your digits before spitting them out. “Go wild, baby.” You nod before slurping his cock back into your mouth while your damp fingers venture down to your skirt and push your panties aside to insert them inside your vagina. Your whimpers are too cute to ignore, and Toji finally stands up to change the pace.

While your fingers curl and scratch the heat of your inner walls, Toji grabs for your head to fuck your face, the cadence growing more than mediocre. This time around, he’s busying your throat and face so much with the push of his pelvis that you can’t think straight. The sound of his balls hitting your chin is all you can hear, and your spit pooling around the ring of your lips is too raunchy to comprehend. 

“Haaahhh, shit,” he curses from above, snapping his hips to go deeper into your mouth. “Shit, use that tongue, use—Mmmph…! Fuuuck, yeah, just like that.”

The praises fuel the rhythm of your fingers to go faster, rubbing on your texture as much as you can and your clit grinding against the bottom of your palm. Yet, it seems you can’t fully get off, though. Because of how full your mouth was with how fast Toji was slamming his cock inside your mouth, all you can think about is his length buried inside your vagina and reaching deep to kiss your cervix. Just thinking about it causes you to grip your fingers tighter.

“Ahhh, damnit, right there…!” The raven-headed man grits his teeth with the flex of his abdomen tightening, and his ruts increase. And before you know it, Toji rips his member out of your lips and fists his shaft until his load is expelled. White substance showers onto your face, landing on your nose and cheek, and bits drip down to stain your shirt. You gasp aloud before taking his tip to suck on again, stroking his pulsing dick until his hips stop bucking.

“Guess you’re all dirty, too, huh.” He sniggers and massages your cheeks. “But we got all night to clean ya up real good. Right, dollface?”

A soft noise leaves as you withdraw from his cock and place chaste kisses. “Yes, sirrr…”

“Good girl. Now, take off that skirt of y’rs.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 ✮ reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ header art by hyocorou + dividers by @cafekitsune.