#tw spit kink

[mirnsey]

I’m expanded on my last post, cause it seemed that a lot of you liked if. I’m hoping that the more i write about the more those words will slowly morph into a one shot that i can finally post and get motivation to post other things. This is more of a long Drabble than anything.

Includes: spit kink, degrading kink, crying (?), afab implied, begging, whining, yearning

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

Imagine he’s the most known in school, known for his good grades, great basketball playing, and impeccable dick size. At this point you could probably imagine it from memory from all the words spewed from other girls and boys mouths in the halls.

You get assigned to him for some school project, needing to be invited to his home as you don’t want to show him yours. Probably because of your parents, or the mess of your room. Whichever excuse you want to just not be in your own home.

Let your nose wrinkle when you walk into his room, showing your discomfort for the strong smell of body spray and sex. You couldn’t blame him. You were.. older teens, masturbation was normal.

Start your project as if it was normal, as it was what you did want to do at first. Start slow in engaging anything sexual, not even touching him until hours of brainstorming later other than try brush of the shoulder. Finally place your hand on his thigh when reaching to something on the parallel side of him, watch him jolt from the sudden touch of your warm hand.

Listen to him stutter and stamper over his words, legs shifting to cross closer to each other. He hoped to cover his sweats straining against his groin, the feathery touches you were leaving over his skin making him get covered in goosebumps.

Pretend to be clueless. Pretend you ‘don’t know what he’s talking about’ and ‘you don’t remember touching him’. Manipulating a manipulator isn’t that bad. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

Only engage in conversation with him ages after he’s been giving you hints, when he finally actually communicates and asks you desperately to fuck him.

You could stay clueless for a little longer until he babbled for you to just touch his needy cock. To ‘please stoke his dick’ and to ‘let him eat you out until your satisfied’ and even to ‘fuck him till he cried’.

And maybe you would do it, reaching for the bot to ruin him as you pleased. Spit in his mouth, slap him, degrade him, ride his face and edge him until he can barely even work his tongue to ask to cum.

Watch as his cocky resolve falls into pieces at your hands, something never recorded at your school. Be the first person to make the school player fall to his knees, hands itching to grab at your thighs. To kiss over the pudge of them and slowly press kisses closer and closer to your pussy to finally have a taste of you. And you could deny him even, make him beg further..

Im getting into the groove again, im feeling the words 🙏🏾

[nemesyaaa]

me everytime i see " spit kink" in the warnings of an obx fics

[pupkou]

cw spit, degradation (dumbification), petplay

you say “open your mouth and beg for me to spit in your mouth like the dumb dog you are” and daichi cums in his pants .

[kagejima]

can someone please suffer with me in thinking about being bratty and talking back to meian and then him grabbing you by the jaw and squeezing your cheeks until you open your mouth

and you think he's gonna spit, so you get all excited BUT THEN he just gets real close to you and smiles and says in a really low voice, "mm-mm. you only get it if you're good..." before he lets go of you.................

[lxnarphase]

him seeing you eating a lollipop and he really wants a taste so he steals it from you and pops it in his mouth. he’s about to walk away with the treat but you stop him as you complain about your candy being stolen

of course he’s not gonna give it back, so he just follows his rolls and grabs you by the cheeks, squeezing them to force your mouth open and lets the candy-flavored saliva drip onto your tongue

he is 1000% prepared for you to smack him, to yell, to spit everyone out as he grins down at you at the kinda gross thing he just did. be he doesn’t expect you to get quiet and close your mouth and—

did you just swallow?

where’s my toji spit kink fans at…

[maroonswan]

Thinking about pro hero!Kirishima being a gentle giant with a monster cock.

When he making out with his partner, he knows he can’t hide his erection, so he doesn’t try. Instead, he takes your small hand in his and places it around the imprint of his hard cock. It’s warm and large, filling the width of your palm as he guides you on how to stroke it through his stiff jeans, leading you up and down just the tip of his length. 

“Feel that, babe? That’s all you, making me feel so good.” he sighs into your lips before kissing you. His tongue intermingeling with yours as his swallows your moans. 

It’s driving him crazy how well you fit in his lap; one hand squeezing the plushness of your ass as his other inches yours up further, toward the cool metal of his zipper. The tip of your fingers grazing at the clothed base of his cock, making him throb. 

He can’t wait to see how good it will feel when you have them circled around him, how your little hands would be fighting to make a fist around the girth of his cock. Your sweet throat straining to take him as you jerked the rest of his length with a greedy self-sabotaging need to make him cum while your already straining not to suffocate. 

Kirishima breaks away from the kiss then, his tounge still connected to yours by a thin shiny string of saliva. He’s staring into your eyes, dumbly. Red pupils blown out like he’s seen something amazing.

It makes you giggle, half from amusement and half from concern. You hope you didn’t break him.

“Ei, are you okay?”

Kirishima lays you down while nodding. You’ve never heard him be so quiet as he launches himself off the bed. The anticipation having you clenching he stares down at you; his crotch only a few inches away from your face as he starts to undo his zipper, tugging down his pants and boxers until they’re just barely off. His newly freed cock flopping forward to deliver a rude slap to your face.

Your pro hero boyfriend apologizes sweetly as he grasps your chin and tilts it just so until your lips are a hair’s breath away from his leaking tip. The needing throb of his cock forcing you to give it kisses. 

“Just need this mouth so bad, sweetie.” he growls. “You’re gonna open up and take it all, aren’t you?” 

You dreamily sigh a yes, already slurping on the head as he groans and growls. His hands hooking in your hair to work you down further. Kirishima won’t stand to let himself cum until his balls are slapping against your little pink tounge. 

[rinhaler]

holding you at gun point to write smth abt draken with this <3 (bonus points if daddy kink bc daddy issues go brrrrr)

ohhhhh my first tr writing on this blog lets gooooooooo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, cheating, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, daddy kink, spit.

words: 1.1k

“Fuck—” you moan, feeling the impact of being slammed against the wall by Draken before he suffocates you as his lips encase yours. He’s so touchy, always has been, though things might have gone a tad too far this time. “K-Kenny, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Sh, baby.” he interrupts, kissing you again before he trails his lips lovingly along your jawline and gropes your breast as he starts suck kisses into your neck.

“What about Mi- What about Manjiro?” you gasp, angling your neck to give him better access to you. You suppose you aren’t truly thinking about Manjiro at all. “He’ll be s-so mad at you, and me, Kenny, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

He silences you as he lifts you fully into his hold, your legs wrap around his waist and you capture him in another kiss. You can feel how hard he is, even through his jeans. And his moans, God, his fucking moans are spellbinding. You’d happily face Mikey’s wrath if it meant you can listen to Draken grunt and groan like this for you whenever you please.

“Fuck Mikey,” Draken tells you, his voice dropping a few octaves as he drops you down onto your mattress below. “I saw you first, y’know. Knew you were meant to be mine the moment I saw ya. And he fucking—” he stops himself, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him.

Desperate hands reach and grab to hold him in any capacity. But he pulls away to yank down your panties. Although, his frenzied hands are too impatient, ripping them apart with ease.

You sit upright to chase him, eager to kiss him once more. He breaks it to throw his shirt over his head into a crumpled pile at the foot of your bed. He watches you, huffing excitedly as you undo his belt and pull down his zipper.

He grabs your chin, jerking your gaze upwards so that your needy, shimmering eyes answer the question of just how much you want him. Or, rather, need him. They’re glittering with want and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier pair of eyes.

You break the stare, your head drooping as you pull down his jeans and underwear in the same eager motion.

You’re almost salivating when you see his cock for the first time. Oh, he’s perfect. His leaking cockhead is flushed beautifully as he aches for you. He’s so messy, so beautiful. And it’s all for you. He smirks upon seeing a little bit of drool form on the corner of your slack jawed mouth. He wipes it, softly, before pushing you onto your back.

“You’re fucking soaked…” he laughs softly, pushing two fingers into your tight heat and scissoring you open briefly. His hands, you’ve never failed to notice, are massive. They’re veiny and intimidating, his fingers curl deep in your walls. And they venture deep enough to have you screaming as he finds your g-spot. “I can’t wait anymore, baby, I’m sorry… hope that was enough for ya.” he warns you, pulling out his fingers and lining up his cockhead with your wet hole.

“Unff, f-fuck, Kenny…” you mewl, nails clawing into his muscular back as he splits you open on his length.

“Fuuuuuck me, baby.” he chuckles shallowly, slotting himself inside fully until he has no length left to give. And he fucks you, slow but deep. Skin slapping against skin filling the room you sleep in, usually, beside Mikey. “Your pussy’s made for me, can feel it…” he tells you, kissing you right after.

“Wanna be d-daddy shaped, p-please, fuck me hard.” you tell him. Black eyes widen with lust and adoration after hearing you speak so salaciously. A large hand frames the lower half of your face, squeezing your cheeks until your lips pucker for him. And he can’t help himself, he can’t fucking control himself. You see his mouth contort and then you’re hit with a glob of saliva, his spit landing perfectly between your lips and slithering onto your tongue.

“Swallow it, baby, g-good girl…” he struggles to keep his composure as he fucks into you. You are a good girl. So obedient, so fucking perfect. And the moan that leaves him is almost angelic as he watches you swallow his spit so beautifully. “This is daddy’s pussy, yeah? Gonna let me fuck this little cunt as much as I want, aren’t you? Until you’re fuckin’ mine.” he speaks, knowing in reality it makes no sense. You’re already his, in his mind.

Consequences be damned.

You wrap your arms around his body, holding him close as he pounds into you. You know you have to be quick about this, Manjiro could be home at any minute. But you can’t stop before you’re satisfied. Before you’re done. Before you’re fucking ready. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment as he lets himself enjoy the moment, fully.

And you practically feel his cock twitch when he pulls away to look into your pathetic wet eyes. Are you really going to cry from the pleasure? Is he making you feel that good?

“P-Put a baby in me, daddy?” you blink up at him so fucking innocently. Are you serious? Have you forgotten who you’re meant to be committed to and that you’re not meant to be doing this right now? Draken isn’t sure he heard you right. Not until you repeat it with a broken whisper and little please please please’s spilling from your lips with each thrust.

He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so fast in his life. Fractured moans fighting their way out of his lungs as he fucks his cum hard and deep into your unprotected womb.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” he apologies, he’d had no intention of cumming that quickly. “’m not done with you.” he promises, pushing one of your knees into your chest before searching for your aching clit as you make out nastily.

Tongues and moans dizzying your brain with each swipe of his fingers.

You hope Manjiro won’t be home anytime soon.

Because you can’t get enough of his best friend.

© 2023 rinitxshi

[nyancrimew]

fucked up asks you say? Alright. If you had to drink a pint glass of human saliva, would you rather it be hot or cold?

i will not be answering any further asks regarding my consumption of human saliva or it will be a little too revealing

[pupkou]

i think daichi has a spit kink i can’t lie

[kagejima]

my brain has been fully enveloped in bodyguard!mattsun lately but for you I digress - you torture me, I torture you....

Brat tamer Meian?

who is incredibly patient but still playful (I mean you have to be if you're responsible for the boys of MSBY) so if you're acting out for his attention, stomping your foot, giving him attitude and not doing as your told. you're looking for his attention and he knows it. so he ignores, he can be patient, can ignore the mood swings and take the lashing out. but that also means that you’re not getting what you want.

of course. it only means you act out more. because you want something and meian is usually sooooo good at giving you what you want. IF you behave. and you aren’t.

now the man’s patience only extends so far. because baby you are puuuuushing his limits pouting all over the place. so when he finally has enough, you know you’re in trouble because his voice is never that stern and matter of fact when speaking to you unless you are. and so when he grips your jaw and all he has to say is “enough” strongly and immediately making a tiny piece of you regret pushing you know you’re in trouble. but of course trouble is what you want and attention is what you want.

so when he forces your mouth open and tilts your head up to look at him and you’re excited for the attention, excited for the possibility of his spit in your mouth, when he says no, and tells you that you only get it if you’re good, that “good girls don’t act like this,” he takes his hands completely off of you and just walks away. because if you’re going to act out, this is your punishment.

so when you finally come to him, watery eyes because he’s not been paying you attention, a little sniffly and saying his name softly. when he grips your face again, seeing the regret in your eyes and presses your cheeks in to hold your mouth open and asks “are you ready to be a good girl and apologize to me?” and you’re nodding along in agreement because you really really want his attention. so he lets go and just says “go ahead” as he gives you the floor for a proper apology.

and you do, stuttered “sorry”s from your lips as you try to bow your head a bit in shame but he clicks his tongue at you and you know you’re meant to keep looking at him even if you’re a bit embarrassed. apologizing for your attitude and for lashing out just cause you want attention.

and when he’s satisfied with your apology, he’ll press his thumb into your bottom lip, your lips fall apart easily as he hooks his thumb into your teeth opening your mouth. “stick out your tongue for me” is his command and you obey as he tilts your head back, leaning over you easily, forcing you to keep eye contact as he lets the glob of spit drip slowly from his lips to your tongue “now swallow like a good girl.”

KAZE IM GONNA SHOW UP AT YOUR HOUSE I SWEAR TO GOD 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i need to be put into isolation after reading this, god help me fahdjfhdaweurheawurfhaewu9prh3pc489qyqp820hadifcsdchdsidoafdsfdsajfsa

[suguwu]

diluc who overhears someone talking about spitting in their partner's mouth at the tavern. he's a little bewildered by it—it seems a little crass, doesn't it? how could one derive pleasure from it?—but soon finds the idea of it lingering in his mind. he thinks about the wet shine of your pink tongue as you open your mouth wide and has to clear his throat and shift. the tips of his ears heat as he watches your throat work as you sip at your drink, imagining you swallowing down his spit instead.

then he dreams about it. how you open for him, your eyes glittering. you ask him for it, whisper it in a low, sweet voice. how you tilt your head back to give him a better view.

he wakes up hard. strokes himself off with his lip between his teeth, unable to resist.

he's ashamed, a little embarrassed to be thinking such things about you. but maybe, just maybe—maybe one day he'll ask. just to see.

[yourfakeb0y]

might draw my fucked kinks

[gilverrwrites]

Probation ♥

Black Mask/M!Reader/Deathstroke, 4K words Commisioned piece for @vile-hearts Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, smoking, non-graphic mentions of crime/violence/death, arguing, face slapping, unprotected sex, burning, abuse of power (boss/employee), pre-established dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, collars, mild choking, name calling, denial, unsanitary cum eating, spit (but not in a kinky way). They're both assholes. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT >> Reader is described as moderately fit/strong and having dark hair. <<

The air in Roman’s office is cold. Cold enough to send a shiver down your exposed spine and throw off your balance. Fortunately, you manage to keep your grip on the drinks tray, preventing it from falling. Unfortunately, Roman still notices your near faux pas and offers you a curt ‘tsk’ as you place the decanter and two empty glasses on his desk.

“I thought you could handle this. Don’t prove me wrong.” He chides, eyes boring into you from beneath his menacing, skull-shaped mask. He’d taken you off False-Facer duties ever since the newest Robin had taken a sizable chunk out of your arm with his katana, and though you’d hated every second, distraught at being unable to prove useful to him, you’d complied. Who were you to question him, after all? Your wound is now in the final stages of healing, stitches almost ready for removal, and you’re exceptionally grateful that he’s brought you back on business, even if it is purely domestic. ‘Baby step.’ He’d assured. You had to prove you could handle the little things again before he put you back in the game.

Admittedly, you don’t care what he has you doing, so long as you’re doing it for him.

“I can handle it.” You insist, even as your hands shake while pouring his aged whiskey. It’s not because you can’t handle it, it’s because you’re anxious to prove yourself to him once again. “I promise, Daddy.”

“We’ll see.” He muses pedantically as he takes his drink from you. The mask, while sexy as hell, depraves you and any others from deriving emotion from his face, but as you settle in your place, on your knees, at his feet, he threads his leather-clad fingers in your dark tresses, scratching your scalp and easing your nerves. Some might think it patronising, dehumanising even, but you take it for what it is, a sign of his affection. 

You remain in position while Roman gets some paperwork done, and he continues to absentmindedly play with your body throughout; restlessly straightening your steel collar, teasingly stuffing his gloved fingers in your mouth, twisting your cold-hardened nipples to let out any frustrations while you await his guest.

The wait isn’t too long, or at least, you’re too distracted being Romans stress toy to pay attention to the passing of time.

Slade Wilson is by no means an ill-mannered man, but he gets a kick out of rubbing people the wrong way. Out of pushing people’s buttons to assert his dominance; even with those who fill his coffers, and he does it with the rightful confidence of a man who knows he can get away with it, who knows he can kick the ass of anyone who begs to challenge him. So, when he arrives, he doesn’t bother knocking, ignoring security and barging in on rain-soaked boots that tarnish the floor with each step. He’s wearing his signature two-toned mask and the sight of it sends a surge of arousal to your already half-hard cock, but not more so than when he takes it off, tactfully tossing it on Roman’s desk and watching you with his one, icy blue eye.

“Wilson.” Roman greets him without moving from his seat.

“Roman.” Slade returns as he takes the seat across him, the desk now impeaching your view of him.

“Is it done?” Your boss asks.

The assassin replies with a blunt, insulted scoff. You hear his chair creak as he presumably leans back on its hind legs. “You take me for an amateur? Of course it’s done.”

It irks you that you’re out of the loop, but you remain tight-lipped. Only moving to pour Slade a drink in the second tumbler once he accepts Roman’s offer.

“How is the broken soldier, aye?” Slade asks as he lets the chair fall back on all fours and leans forward to examine your arm. While Roman has routinely checked in to play with your weak and wounded body while you were out of action, you hadn’t seen, or been fucked by Slade since the night of your injury,

“Remains to be seen.” Roman answers for you, as is customary. “He's in a probationary period.”

“You’re too soft, I would have fired him.” You’re not convinced of his words, partly due to the smirk on his face, but mainly because Slade had been the one to patch you up and bring you home. When you crack a sneaky smile in his direction, he laughs, confirming his jest before reaching around you, ignoring his glass to grab Roman’s cigar box from which he takes one without asking. As he sits back, he hands you the snipper and lighter, and you make yourself useful, bending over to light the cigar and allowing your wet-look boxers to ride up, baring the bottom half of your cheeks to Roman.

The motion also adds pressure to the plug that had been almost permanently lodged into your ass since your return, causing you to whimper aloud. Just because you’d been demoted out of field work, didn’t mean Roman had taken things any easier on you in the proverbial ‘bedroom’ department.

Once the cigar is lit, and a steady rise of smoke begins to permeate the room with its sweet tobacco smell, you watch with brazenly lustful eyes as Slade’s lips pull from it. His sharp, stubbly jaw grows tight as he inhales, and relaxes when he blows a plume back out.

“Now, you never did thank Mr Wilson for pulling you out of the fray. Did you?” Roman chimes, and already you know where this is going.

“No, Daddy.” You shake your head, but you’re still fixed on the saviour in question. You lick your quickly drying lips before offering Slade a coy; “Thank you, Daddy.”

Slade raises a brow, the hint of an expectant smile on his lips.

“Come on kid, you can do better than that.” He’s already working his belt loose with his free hand. Sturdy fingers deftly finding his zip. Unsurprisingly, he’s not wearing underwear, and he slips his semi out readily, watching you back as he easily begins to stroke himself.

You don’t need to be told twice, sinking to your knees between his outstretched legs but before you can lay a finger on him you hear Romans scolding voice from behind, and you internally curse yourself, knowing what he’s about to remind you of. Your body already readjusting as he speaks. “Don’t forget yourself. Hands and knees.”

It’s not enough for you to simply lock your hands behind your back or to hold onto your ankles when sucking cock. Roman likes for you to be on all fours. Serving as a reminder that you’re an obedient pet.

The grin on Slade’s lips has grown, and he teasingly tuts at you before taking another drag of his cig.

You don’t think about whether or how you’ll be punished for that later. Ignoring the excited tingle at your core while you try again, avoiding too much pressure on your bad arm as you open your mouth and lean into Slade’s lap.

Almost fully erect, Slade seizes jerking himself and proceeds to tease you with his thick length instead, holding it to your face and then pulling away before you can get your mouth around it. Enjoying the way your eyes grow round and sinfully hungry whenever he slaps it against your cheek until an involuntary pout forms on your face.

“I’m just playing with you.” He’s cooing, but there’s no kindness in his tone. It’s a sordid and mean musing, punctuated by the blowing of rich smoke. “If you really want it, say ‘Please, Daddy.’” 

“Please, daddy.” You don’t hesitate, uncaring of how pathetic you must look and sound. He’s seen you beg for far worse. “Please, please let me suck your cock.”

“Since you asked so nice.” He finally releases his dick, letting it hang as you plant open-mouth kisses from base to tip, happily worshipping it. You’d missed him in his absence, but you hadn’t realised how severely until you roll your tongue across the veiny base of his length, savouring the musky flavour.

“Thank you, daddy.” You offer your gratitude once more before taking the crown between your lips, cheeks swelling as you push forward, purposely dipping back and forth in short bursts, taking no more than an extra inch with each motion.

“What’s the matter? Roman not been giving you enough dick while I’ve been gone?” While he’s mocking your unhurried technique, there’s a tint to his cheeks that suggests he’s enjoying it more than he lets on. “You forget how to do it?”

You shake your head once more, holding back a laugh as Roman slams his glass on the desk.

“Fuck off.” As always, Roman has little tolerance. “I could fire you.”

“Finding work isn’t a trouble for me, Romy.” Slade fireback, getting off not just on your submission, but on grinding Roma’s gears, as made evident by the glint in his eye.

“How many of those jobs come with a fucktoy?”

Slade doesn’t respond to Roman playing their favourite trump card, at least not to Roman, but he does look back down at you.

“Let me help you.” He used that same bullying tone, a hand ghosting behind your head, not to grab or pull, yet, but to insistently guide you further down. You moan as you feel his tip grazing the back throat, opening wide to allow your spit to seep out, moistening his cock, smoothing the friction as he begins to rock his hips. It has always seemed that no matter how much cock you take from Slade, he always has more to give and now is no exception. “See, you’ll be taking it all again before I’m done smoking.”

All the while, and despite their bickering, you know that Roman has been enjoying the show. That’s not your ego talking, it’s fact. You hear the tell-tale sound of his fly being undone, of his drawer opening, the click of a lube cap being opened, and the salaciously wet slapping of every stroke to his cock.

Though you’re listening in anticipation for the moment Roman grows discontented with simply watching, you continue working Slade between your lips, allowing your drool to gather and drip down your chin, coating him thoroughly as you idly bob yourself around his deliciously weighty member. But your wandering attention is noted. Vexed, Slade slaps you, sharp and hard. Certainly not at his full strength, but enough that it makes your skull throb as hard as your confined dick. Enough to leave a mark.

He flips like a switch. It’s hard to tell what will trigger his temperament. Fortunately, you like it just as much, if not more when he’s cruel.

“Eyes bigger than your fucking ass.” He spits, grabbing your head as soon as your eyes consciously lock onto him; using his strength to force you deeper, ignoring how your throat spasms to fight the very much wanted intuition, and the chocked whines that emanate from you as he forces himself to the depths of your throat. Not stopping until your nose is buried in his thick, white thatch and your mind is overwhelmed by him. His coarse fingerless gloves and combat trousers dig into your skin, his earthy smell fills your nose, the faintly sweaty flavour of his cock as you choke around it consumes your mind. “Being nice, saved your life, show me some goddamned respect.”

Eager to make amends, you don’t look away from him for a second, even as your eyes water and your skin burns.

"Yes, daddy. Sorry, daddy.” Is what you mean to say, but all that comes out is a sloppy, garbled mess. You don’t falter as you hear Roman laughter behind you, or when Slade begins using your hard metal collar as a handle, choking you further as he rough snaps your head up and down, no doubt bruising your skin as he forces you to fuck your face on his cock and allowing you only milliseconds to catch your breath whenever your eyelids begin to falter.

“That’s it.” He continues as you lose yourself to the hypnotic feel of his cock rutting in and out of your mouth. His tone does not suggest praise, but the way his eye softens, his lips curling into a languid smile, does. “That’s a good boy, keep taking it like a good little cock hungry whore.”

So dazed and distracted by the euphoric feel of him bulging in the confines of your throat are you, that you don’t catch Roman’s footfall. You don’t know he’s behind you until his now bare fingers hook into your shorts, tugging them down your thighs.

You shiver, forcefully, as your heated cock is exposed to the chilly air, but not as hard as when he grips the base of your plug.

“Good boy.” He echoes Slade’s sentiment as he places a firm hand between your shoulder blades, steadying you for what’s to come. “Keep it up, stay still for, Daddy. Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agree, but once more your voice is muffled by the shaft between your parted lips. The reverb of your voice on his sensitive skin causing Slade to moan around a puff of his cigar, inhaling too much. He sputters briefly above you, his powerful body shaking, causing his member to pulse, uncomfortably at the back of your throat. By the time he comes too, your eyes are rolling back, not just from his movements, but because Roman has started to edge the plug from your ass, teasingly slow until your tight ring is stretched around the thickest part.

“Shit. Noisy little fucker.” Slade continues to twitch and hisses, enjoying every coo the Roman elicits from you as he fucks the metal toy in and out of your gaping hole.

“He can’t help it.” Roman cuts in, voice laced with mocking. “He wants to be filled up.”

“You do know how to pick ‘em. I’ll give you that.” They continue chattering over your head. Decidedly about you, not with you as they use your body. Slade on one end, keeping your mouth occupied, Roman on the other, tormenting your needy hole. “What are you waiting for?

“I give the orders around here. You’ll do well to remember that, Wilson.” Despite his objection, Roman lets the heavy toy clatter to the floor uncaringly.

He doesn’t ease himself in. There’s no doubt in his mind about how much you can take, or at what pace. Not because he’s taken the time to learn, but because he knows you can and will take anything he gives you, and you’ll do it happily. Like man’s best friend, his obedient dog, his dirty fucking cock-sleeve. There’s no scissoring his fingers to widen your walls, no extra lube beyond that which he’d used for his own pleasure as he’d watched you sucking off his best hitman. He just lines it up and plunges straight in.

Both men chuckle at the way you jerk and pant from the incursion, and Roman leans forward, pressing his weight on your back until he’s inches from your ear, short breath brushing the sensitive skin as he growls. “Look at you, greedy whore. Taking it from both ends. Don’t even think about touching yourself.”

Even if you wanted to disobey, you don’t think you could. Roman begins to rock in and out of you rapidly, and with such force, you need both hands to steady yourself.

“Good boy.” He says once more, and you could just melt from the praise. Not to mention the intoxication of being used so thoroughly by your daddies. Every snap of Roman's hips echoes through his office and drives you deeper into Slade’s crotch. “Keep being a good fuckin’ object. Let daddy fuck this tight ass raw.”       

“You’re both noisy fuckers.” Slade groans, sinking deeper into his chair. You take no heed to his complaint; you don’t have time to before he flicks his half-smoked cigar at Roman. The man has flawless aim, so you know he misses deliberately. It lands on your back, and you do well to wind in your reaction to just a twitch when the hot tip scolds your skin before rolling to the floor. He stubs it out with a loud stamp. The burn and the noise both causing your tender walls to clench even tighter around Roman. In turn, Roman cusses, digging his nails into your parted cheeks as he enjoys the tension, proving Slade right.

“C’mere.” Slade goes on, kicking up from the chair forcing you and Roman to shift to his will. “Let me use this thing properly.”

He does this when he’s close, asserts himself, uncaring of how it affects everyone else. With a wide-leg stance, he leans over, and holds your head in place with his forehead in an almost-headlock, forcing you upright until Roman has to fall back onto his haunches. You don’t let him do all the work, even if you’d enjoy him berating you for it. Once Slade finds the angle he wants, you shimmy until you’re positioned just right to bounce on Roman’s cock.

“Bastard.” Roman mutters, and though he sounds breathy and sex-drunk, there is a definite undertone of malice that sets your already shaken nerves ablaze. “Fuckin’ lucky this feels good.”

Slade pays no heed, to him, or you for that matter. All he cares about now is chasing his own climax, and selfishly using you to get it. There’s no more stopping to breathe, you’re reliant entirely on your ropey ability to suck it in through your nose as he erratically pumps against your wet tongue. A score of swear words escaping him all the way through until he finally lets out a familiar, guttural grunt, muscles tensing as he rags your head back. Squeezing the base of his cock, he aims his translucent, sticky cum across your face, his eye watching with concentrated brows and gritted teeth until he has nothing left to give.

Rarely is Slade spent after any kind of sex, his stamina is near infinite. So, there’s no panting, no lazing about in the afterglow. He simply mutters a cocky “You’re welcome.” Whether in reference to your gratitude for saving your life or giving you a face-full of his seed is unclear. Then he releases your body from his steely grip and steps around you, leaning on the desk to watch from behind as he sips his whisky and leisurely tidies himself up. 

You fall back onto your hands and knees, diligently still riding Roman’s cock even as you attempt to lick up any drops of cum that dribble close to your lips.

“Look watcha did! He’s a fuckin’ mess now.” Roman is all bark as he matches your stride.

“Looks better that way.” Slade retorts with a sneer. “His outside matches his insides. Now anyone can see that he’s a pathetic, cum slut.”

Roman mulls the words over briefly, and then his bite comes. Though you could probably take Roman one-on-one in a brawl, you wouldn’t ever dream of fighting him. So, when his hand comes down on the base of your neck, fingers splaying under your collar, you let him force your upper body to the floor. Face down, ass up. “Now he looks better.”

In this new position, every harsh thrust hits the sweet spot deep in your core that has your toes curling, and your dick throbbing. You white knuckle the floor, biting your lip to fight the urge to start fisting yourself. You’re so close, it would only take a couple of pumps, but you’re a good boy. Daddies good boy. So, you fight the urge, even as you’re on the brink of seeing stars.

“Is he right?” Roman’s ragged, gravelly voice does nothing to ground you. His wild, frenzies rutting into your ass, and the feel of his nails purposefully raking down your back all has you on edge. “Are you a dirty fuckin’ cum slut?”

“Yes, yesyesyes.” You chant in time to his turbulent rhythm, slurring into the hard ground every time he bottoms out.

“Whose dirty fuckin’ slut are you?” Roman urges and you can tell he has little left to give. Roman, whilst legendary amongst the underworld, is as human as you are, and it shows in his hitching breath and shaking legs. In the way he slaps your ass to try and reel himself a few more seconds. “Huh? Who?”

“You daddy! You!” Your leg is twitching like a god damned dog, and you let it, channelling all your willpower into following orders and neglecting your own pleasure. “You’re my daddy.”

“Damn.-” Your words send Roman toppling, literally. The cool, hard feel of his mask smacks against your spine as he cums deep in your ass, huffing and choking on his own pleasure, spit wetting the arch of your back as he keeps snarling at you. “-Fucking.Right.You.Are.”

Roman needs longer to catch his breath and find his footing. He snakes his arms around you, holding you to his still clothes chest, uncaring if or what Slade thinks of any perceived affection. Intimate or not, the warmth of his body does nothing to simmer your arousal. You’re still aching to find your own climax, but you keep your mouth shut, following the rules and letting Roman hold you until he steadies himself. If your choices are getting off or passing probation, you know which you’d rather in the long run.

Once Roman stands you remain on the floor, in position, shorts still tangled around one ankle, face plastered with half-dried semen. Once he’s zipped up, you follow his leather oxfords in your peripheral as he walks around you, avoiding the mess Slade and you had made as he examines your body. At some point, he must have found his gloves once more, because when he touches you again, the leather barrier has returned.

Gently, he traces a finger over your bandage before asking. “How is it?”

“Good, didn’t even think about it.” In truth, your rapidly bruising throat and the burn on your lower back hurt far more than your old injury.

Roman taps his fingers against it, clearly considering your answer before pressing harder. You should have expected it, and you give him what he wants to hear, groaning in pain because you know he likes it when you hurt for him. You like hurting for him too. If only he could see the way it makes your already slickened tip leak with pre-cum.

He doesn’t ask again. Instead, he stands up straight when he’d done, tapping the flaky puddles your dripping face had smeared onto the floor. No doubt you’re making just as much of a mess behind you, as Roman’s own release seeps from your open hole.

“Clean this up.” He instructs, before stepping briefly to the side and kicking over your discarded plug. “That too. When you’re done you can put it back in.”

You know what he means, you don’t wait for further clarification, crawling over and jamming your face to the floor. Flattening your tongue, you lap at the bittersweet discharge, blissfully relishing every drop.

“Gotten a lot more compliant since he got stabbed.” Slade muses from above, clinking his glass against Romans as they return to conversing without you. “He really doesn’t have a mind of his own anymore, does he?”  

“Not unless I tell him too.” Roman boasts, lurid pride emanating from him.

“You gonna put him back on the beat soon?” You pray neither notice how you perk up at the question. You’re desperate to be back on the street, to sink your teeth into a fight, or a robbery, or even just a security detail.

“We’ll see.” Whether he noticed your keenness or not, Roman knows very well how badly you want it. “Probation isn’t over yet.”

Hi reader! Just wanted to remind you that you are so so so loved! ♥

[crybaby-bkg]

Can we hear about what unsettling kinks gojo has 😝🤭

omg this made me sit and think for so long LOL

as mentioned in the original post I def this campus weirdo gojo has some kind of incest roleplay, fear, and even a cumflation kink???

but the other ones I considered were:

a spitting kink perhaps??? not in the way of him spitting in your mouth or just simply swapping spit, but being covered in it. really, you covering him in it—dragging your tongue all over his face; his white pubes soaked to the bone from you gagging on it; the silvery gleam of it in the mirror when you cover him with sloppy kisses.

a crush kink/fetish!!!!! on one hand, he likes fear play, likes to be in control and watch that terrified look on your face when he finally catches you. but on the other hand, he does like your feet all prettied and dolled up when you step on him. likes the standard black stockings paired with a heel that crushes his windpipe when he won’t shut his mouth after telling him to.

similar to the fear kink, I def think he likes predator / prey!!!! not that the kink itself is unsettling, but the mf just can’t be normal about anything, can he? he likes to get into the whole idea of it; that you’re helpless, that he’s some big bad wolf ready to devour you, that you cry for him even when he bites a little too harshly.

also scent marking!!!! unsettling in the way that he damn near begs for you to dab just a bit of his cum behind your ear, just so that the scent lingers throughout the day when other people talk to you. definitely finds himself curling around you just to inhale your scent every second that he can.

[innocentorno]

give me ideas to add to my freak list!!!

[fauxobsidian]

Claim.