#bimbo is not a body type!

[bimbosanddolls]

Thoughts on plus-sized bimbos?

Bimbo is not a shape or size; bimbo is a mindset. An attitude. An aesthetic. Anyone can be a bimbo. And any bimbo living her bimbest life is super hot by default. That's just how it works. I don't make the rules.

But also like, as a bimbo myself, I just kind of adore all my fellow bimbos? Like we're all just so pretty and hot and perfect. How could you not love us?

[mydeerheart]

Flowers grew 🌸🦋

[disembowel-me]

Do you think Derek has a Patrick Bateman-esque skincare routine? Do you think he gets cosmetic treatments or procedures regularly?

Imagine him having a nail tech visit him in his dad's house to give him a manicure and pedicure every 2 weeks because he's too ashamed of the fact he does it and wouldn't be caught dead getting one in public. And then if you point out that he's got such soft smooth hands he gets all defensive

[mariasont]

My Boss Won't Be Happy About This - A.H

a/n: back to bimbo brain rot!!!! inspired by the first season that one episode (you know the one) where hotch is all macho man with elle in jamaica

masterlist

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pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

summary: you’re wrongfully arrested and hotch is not happy about it

warnings: creepy officer, inaccuracies of how law enforcement works, hotch being sexy

wc: 1.3k

"Listen I'm not the type of girl to tell someone how to do their job, but I just don't think you're doing it right."

You were speaking to an empty room, or at least, you were speaking to the mirror in front of you. It's the kind of mirror you had seen in countless interrogation scenes, the kind you usually image Hotch standing behind. You let your gaze linger, wondering if eyes are studying you from the other side, listening to your monologue.

"Well, that, and I also just don't think it's very nice." Your brand spanking new heels were tapping against the dirty floor. 

You weren't happy about that. You weren't happy about any of this. Your feet ache, but the fear of the germs lurking on the floor paralyzes any thoughts of relief by removing your shoes.

"And hey, shouldn't I get a phone call? That's a rule, I think," you mumble, lips turning downward in an unusual frown. It seems like the right time for it. "My boss is not going to take this well. I mean, he's got this look, you know? The kind that makes you want to apologize for things you didn't even do."

You conjured up his daunting expression and released a jittery laugh, all while striving to disregard the biting cold blasting from the AC vent, which seemed determine to freeze you into place. 

You were seriously out of your element, not just in surroundings but in dress--so form-fitting it left very little to the imagination. It seemed to be a good idea for a date. That was before you realized said date would be a complete disaster. Now, it felt like a trap. It had been a spectacle for a man unworthy of the effort, and as you sat in this rigid chair, you found yourself tugging at the hem every other moment, a futile attempt to preserve some semblance of modesty.

"So, when he hears about this little error... Well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in your shoes." Six hours had passed in this dreary space, and you could feel your sanity fraying at the edges. You muttered, half to yourself, "Not that they're as cute as mine, but you get the point."

The door hinge's creak made you sit bolt upright, a silent supplication for Hotch's rescue echoing through your mind. But today, it seemed, the gods were indifferent. The officer who had arrested you stepped in.

"Having fun talking to yourself?"

You flashed your sweetest smile. "Oh, tons! But I'd have much more fun if you'd uncuff me."

He said nothing, folding his arms over his chest as he dragged his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin prickle in discomfort. You attempted to dispel the creeping dread, but it stubbornly lingered.

You did what you could to cover up, despite the awkward angle of your arms. "Listen, this is all just a big mistake. I work for the FBI," you insisted, though it was clear the officer's attention was fixated on your tits rather than your words. "Well, I mean, I'm an assistant for the unit chief of the BAU unit. You've heard of Aaron Hotchner, haven't you?"

The officer's mouth closed without a word, as the door was thrust open yet again, and this time, your heart leapt in recognition. Your knight in shining armor with a lethal expression.

His eyes instantly zeroed in on the officer with a look that could curdle blood, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that you weren't the object of his anger. He approached you wordlessly, his every motion precise and determined.

He carefully shed his jacket, a gesture he seldom made, and draped it across your shoulders. The fleeting caress of his hand against your skin was enough to make you lean into his touch. You let out a breath that you had been unconsciously holding back. 

You watched as Hotch turned, his voice a low, steady force, his words carefully chosen and tinged with an unsettling peace. "Officer," he began, the title spoken almost as warning. "I believe there has been a grave misunderstanding. This woman is not only an esteemed member of the FBI, but she is also under my direct supervision."

He stepped closer, encroaching on the officer's personal space. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the officer's expression morphed into one of sheer terror, his earlier confidence dissolving like sugar in hot tea.

"Six hours," he continued, his voice never rising yet somehow it took up all the space in the confined room. "Six hours of unwarranted detention, without due process. I expect her immediate release. And make no mistake, this lapse in judgment will have its ramifications."

The officer was mute, his fingers clumsily unlocking the handcuffs, his movements hurried, his hands trembling. A twinge of pity flickered within you, but it was quickly overshadowed by the memory of considering the table as a makeshift blanket.

The moment the metal clicked open; you wasted no time. You flung your arms around Hotch, the pent relief and biting chill of the past few hours pouring out of you. You were desperate for warmth, specifically his warmth.

He stiffened, caught off guard by your actions. You feel the anger radiating through him, practically pulsing through his skin. As you clung to him, you felt the draft on your legs as your dress slid up, and without missing a beat Hotch's hand discreetly adjusted the fabric, all while keeping his eyes locked on the officer, a silent warning in his gaze.

Once he was certain you were decently covered, he allowed himself to draw him into his arms. One arm secured around your waist, the other weaving through your hair. You were cold. It renewed another tide of rage through his bloodstream.

With the officer's departure, the room's oppressive atmosphere lightened a touch, leaving you still latched onto your boss.

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't believe it," you started, his hands tracing up your spine and sparking a trail of goosebumps that had nothing to do with the chill. "They kept asking me about a heist, as if I'd know anything about that! And then they show me this picture, and I mean, sure, she had my hair, but that's about it."

You rambled on, and he let you, the absurdity of the situation pouring out in a stream of consciousness. Hotch's hold on you tightened. You could sense the coiled tension in him, a tempest of anger held a bay.

"And the room, it was so cold! I mean, I'm sure you can tell. My teeth were chattering, and all I could think of was how I'd rather be filing your paperwork or listening to Reid's factoids about the quantum mechanics of coffee beans."

You felt Hotch's breath on your hair as he let out a sigh. 

"I'm just glad you're here now," you whispered, finally allowing yourself to relax in his embrace.

Hotch gave a curt nod, his jaw set. He was itching to confront the officer, to unleash a tirade not meant for your ears. But he was well aware of how much you needed him right now, and that trumped everything in his book.

Hotch took a moment to compose himself before speaking. "This isn't just incompetence; it's negligence. I will have this place reevaluated for its standards, or lack thereof."

You took a step back, hands still resting on his arms, and he maintained his grip on your waist. "I bet this is the last time you'll let me go on a date without a full background check on the guy, huh, sir?"

Hotch's hold on your waist firmed just a fraction. "Maybe it's the last time I let you go on a date, period."

He was only half-joking.

"Not even with you?" You tilted your head to meet his gaze, drawing his jacket closer around you.

Hotch just simply gives you that look, the one that says a thousand words without a sound. He's telling you to tread lightly.

"Alright, I'll be good," you giggle, the tension easing from your shoulders. "Can you take me home now, please?"

He nods, "Yeah, let's get you home."

And then he leads you out, thinking to himself that the next person to take you out will be him, but that's for him to know and you to find out later.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[mrsperv]

FILL HER UP AND LEAVE HER DUMB!

SIREN IS TYPING! | FINALLY! PISS FIC IS OUT! i wanted to apologize for taking sosososo long for putting it out, ive been juggling college and writer’s block HORRIBLY >< i’ve written this like 101380203 times and i guess this one is the least mediocre one.. thank you to my babe pillsy & pups for proof reading this and dealing with the fact ive written this like a million times now.. 6.5k words!

WARNINGS! | NSFW! PISS! URINE! PEE! leon will be pissing while he’s balls deep so if you don’t fw piss do not read! don’t! torture! yourself! age gaps, leon isn’t like? the best person? gross, sleazy, i guess! damnation leon is in his mid thirties, reader is in her early twenties, dumbification, semi-public sex? bar bathroom drunk sex, sloppy fucking, creampie, mediocre orgasm cuz leon is gross and only really cared about himself, clit playing, etc etc idk

SYNOPSIS! | damnation! leon kennedy x bimbo! reader — bar hook ups are rare when you’re in your thirties and go to sport bars filled with men, but when a pretty face comes in wearing the sluttiest outfit and doesn’t have a thought in her brain, leon knew he needed to get in a quick fuck. but after a full night of nursing whiskey, he can’t help his bladder filling up mid fuck!

dim lights, chatter, and old men — that’s what this bar was. 

so why were you here? 

leon was surprised, pretty girls like you don’t come around to places like these often.

look at you! dressed in the sluttiest crop top and skirt you could find. were you stupid? coming to a bar filled with gross middle aged men dressed like that? it was like you were asking for trouble. 

leon had been seated at the bar, staring down at his glass blankly, mind fuzzy and blurry while his face stayed void of emotion. he had been on autopilot, maybe if he was at another bar he would be doing something else— but that was empty wishful thinking, once a sip of alcohol enters his system his mind blanks. a way to cope, simply. that was the intention tonight. but that’s when you came in — practically skipping to the bar and taking the empty seat next to him. 

he had glanced over at you, a thoughtless action, but when he saw you, he was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. 

you were cute, sitting up with perfect posture, your tits practically spilling out of your shirt while you stared at the bartender with sparkling eyes, and you were sitting next to him? god must’ve heard his prayers and thrown him a bone. 

he kept a sly gaze on you while you ordered, watching you bat your eyelashes at the bartender while you ordered, biting your glossy lips in thought while you leaned against the counter. leon felt envious of the bartender, as he stood on the other side of the bar, he must be getting a nice look down your low-cut shirt. asshole. 

as you ordered, leon expected to hear you order something fruity, a frozen piña colada or whatever younger girls like you liked, but leon’s eyebrows raised in amusement once he heard your order. “uhh, can i have a cola? thank you!” you said, sounding so eager, leon’s brain reeled, did you really just ask for a soda? at a bar? are you stupid? the bartender simply nodded and turned away from you. you smiled dumbly and shifted in your seat, pulling your denim skirt down to cover your thighs. barely. you pulled out your phone, a cute iphone 4s with a hot pink cover, it suited you. 

moving to grip his glass, leon pulled it to his lips before he took a long swig of the drink, a small breath leaving his lips as he put the glass back.

“if you wanted a soda you could’ve gone to circle-k, you know?” leon said, turning his head to face you, a lazy smirk curling at his lips. 

your head perked up, and looking over at him, you smiled dumbly. “yeah! but, like, i wanted an excuse to go out! but alcohol is so gross.” you replied, a small laugh leaving your lips as you turned your body to face him fully, leon let out a low hum. “so, you decided to get all dressed up and go to a bar.. just to get a soda? c’mon, at least get a drink.” leon pressed, glancing over at the bartender before looking back at you. “it’s part of the bar experience, sweetheart.” he said, waving his hand in a swift moment as he spoke, you squirmed in your seat, biting your bottom lip, “mmm, i don’t know.. what do you think i’d like?” 

leaning back against his stool, leon let out a small laugh, “i don’t know, sweetheart. a strawberry margarita? you like strawberries, yeah? it’s a nice fruity drink, something you can handle.” he nodded, watching as the bartender slid over a glass of soda. 

taking the glass, you moved it over to your lips, popping the red straw into your mouth before taking a sip. “are you gonna buy it for me?” you teased, batting your eyelashes up at him before you crossed your legs. huffing, leon let out a small laugh, “what’s in it for me?” did you really think you could drain his wallet and not give him anything in return? c’mon.

“uhm.. you’d make me, like, super happy,” you said, a smile curling on your lips as he stared at him. 

“as pretty as your smile is i’m gonna need something more.” he said, you’re already smiling, why would he pay ten bucks to see you smile more? sure, he had the money, but did he want to give it? nah. 

“aww,” you whined, “okay, you can get anything you want, mister!” you caved, voice high pitched and cheery. “but, like, as long as it’s not like, i don’t know..wanting my organs or something, i can totally give it to you!” you said, giving him a playful wink. were you being serious? anything? c’mon, that was just too easy, a small smirk curled on his lips at your words, anything?

letting out a breath through his nose, leon crossed his arms over his chest, his leather jacket squeaking at the movement. 

“you’re way too eager, sweetheart. you’ll end up in the wrong hands if you continue like that.” he said, moving his head to the side and shifting in his seat, pushing his hips forward, his thighs spreading slightly. manspreading like any other guy at the bar, but your eager eyes flickered down to his pants, watching as the denim fabric curled on his lap.

a spark of thought hit you, your thighs clenched together as a small laugh left your lips, your head moved to the side and you waved his words off. 

“c’mon, mister, i’m a big girl— i can toootally handle myself!” you giggled, moving your finger to curl around your hair. 

leon let out a hum, not believing a word you said. 

“yeah? you can?” he mused, he knew you didn’t.

you nodded though, perking up on your chair, arching your back slightly to keep your posture upright and your tits pushed out. leon took a glance, leopard print shirt that barely fit and a push up bra, your tits were squeezed together in a full display. were you good at tit jobs? with a rack like that, he sure hoped you were.

“well, duh! i’m like, super good at handling myself, mister!” you rebutted, putting your hands on your hips as you hit the power pose, trying to prove your point. 

“leon,” he said, your head tilted to the side, “leon?” you asked stupidly. 

“that’s my name.”

“ohh.”

you were real cute, but damn, you were real stupid too. 

it didn’t take a scientist to figure it out, fuck, look at you. 

you stared at leon like a puppy— a stupid puppy look. not a single worry behind your dumb little eyes, you believed the world was at the palm of your hand, and it probably was. from the stories you told him you were nothing more than daddy’s princess, one pout, and dear old dad was pulling out his checkbook and writing off a fat check with how much money you asked for. he was even paying for your apartment, you had it nice, no need to study or learn, daddy’s inheritance would cover any of your worries. 

you reminded him of ashley, like a far memory, but ashley was a sweetheart. a smart girl, but you? you were just spoiled and stupid, he didn’t mind though, he could easily deal with you if he wanted to. 

leon noticed how you stared at him when he spoke, wide doe eyes focused on him intently like he was the messiah while you were nothing more than an apostle, like the words that slipped from his tongue were the route to salvation. it was silly, he was just some guy in his thirties, buzzed, and in a bar— were you one of those girls that were into that? the cute bimbos that wanted nothing more than a taste of cock from guys over half their age? probably, he’s already caught you sneaking glances at his pants, each shift and adjustment had your eyes glued to his crotch, thinking you were being slick. 

god, what a cock hungry whore. 

he had noted that as he spoke, you would nod along to his words with such eagerness, it made him wonder if you were even listening to him. 

c’mon, his mundane stories weren’t that interesting, maybe if he was honest about his job then he could understand why you seemed so interested, but he was sure if he uttered a single word about the undead the government would have his head. a red little glow dot resting against his forehead and that would be the end of leon scott kennedy. 

the government blew up an entire city with the infected and innocents without care to preserve their image. after all, one more life wouldn’t worry them. well, maybe his, leon’s the president’s lap dog after all—

nonetheless, those were secrets he wasn’t going to share with a nice pair of tits. you probably wouldn’t even understand.

you spoke a lot, with a cute little valley girl accent, the words like and totally were practically engraved into your vocabulary. If leon took a shot everytime you said any of the words he would’ve died of alcohol poisoning. 

the more you spoke, the more leon realized you didn’t have a sense of safety, it was almost funny. why did he know what high school you went to? what state were you born in? what your favorite doll growing up was? you had just met him and you were letting him in on all your secrets, like that one time you ran over the neighbor's mailbox and fled the scene immediately after, then playing the innocent angel card. or when you cheated on all your trigonometry tests in high school by writing the answers on your upper thigh and then wearing a skirt to have easy access to the answers. in your words, you never got caught because if the teacher asked you to lift your skirt he would be a sick perv! 

he wasn’t complaining, your stories were entertaining at the very least, a nice distraction from his own world. 

by now, leon had given in and gotten you that margarita, only one, sure he wasn’t a saint— he was a guy in his mid-thirties wanting to fuck a girl almost a decade younger than him— but he wasn’t horrible. 

you, on the other hand, had no sense of how to drink alcohol, sipping down the juice like it was juice and the effects were beginning to become apparent by your tittering and giggling. 

you were having a great time, getting looser and sloppier as you continued.

“y’know, leon? you’re like, totally hot! likeee, i haven’t met a guy your age that looks this good!” you babbled, giggling at your own words.

nodding, leon raised an eyebrow, “yeah?” he replied, he was getting force fed compliments by you, it was starting to get annoying, but he wouldn’t say that. 

you were like a puppy, he already made that connection,

but you were definitely one of those overly clingy puppies, the ones that whimpered and whined when their owner wasn’t in the same room they were in. you’d probably do anything to please your hypothetical owner, you already offered to do anything for a margarita, god knows the skies the limit with bimbos like you. 

he wondered if you would follow him out of the bar, like a puppy. where are we going? can i come with you? can you take me in?— okay, maybe not that last part, but he couldn’t be too sure. 

you’d have some cute floppy ears as a pup, leon thinks, but that was enough of the puppy metaphors, you were still giggling and babbling stupidities. 

after a bit of buttering up, leon decided that if he wanted to make a move on you, it was now more than ever.

you would be more than willing, that’s for sure.

taking out his wallet and calling over the bartender, leon fished out his black american express— sure, it was a silent brag, but he didn’t care. 

“i’ll pay for the lady’s drinks too,” leon explained as he signaled over to his side, the man nodded and took his card before stepping away to finish the transaction. you stared at the older man with stars behind your eyes, sparkling under the dim yellow light, “you’re so sweet,” you began, leaning in against his arm, batting your eyelashes up at him. 

your arms wrapped around him, hugging it, squeezing and feeling the muscle under the jacket that just so did a good job at hiding his build. 

your brain was starting to melt as you squeezed his biceps, “can i make it up for you? i can pay you back,” you cooed, words slurred slightly as you nuzzled your head against his jacket. it smelled nice, he smelled nice. his cologne was almost sweet, and masculine, but not musky and gross, it was so nice, he was just so nice. 

leon glanced down at you, taking back his credit card as he did so. 

you were so fucking desperate to get fucked it was almost laughable.

“you can make it up to me,” he hummed, his arm slipping around your smaller waist, his hand coming to rest against your hip, squeezing the flesh. 

“c’mon,” he nudged, patting your hip before he stood up from the stool and took hold of your hand, leading you away from the bar. it almost seemed like he was taking you to the back exit, was his car back there? you followed behind him, clinging onto his arm, you were nothing more than arm candy for him. 

as the music got softer and the chatter died down, leon lead you down the small hallway in the back of the bar, by where the bathrooms were. 

you assumed you would just walk past them and slip out through the back door, but instead, leon’s arm moved to rest behind your back, letting you walk in front of him before he pushed you into the men’s bathroom. 

stumbling, your gaze moved around the new setting. “leon! you didn’t need to push!” you whined, fixing your skirt as you looked back at the older man. leon was by the door, his hand holding the door knob as he shut the door behind him and locked it. “sorry, sweetheart, couldn’t have anyone see you. you’re not supposed to be in here.” he said, a small huff of amusement leaving his lips as he moved to face you. “men’s,” he reminded, pointing over at the singular urinal by the toilet. 

“oh, yeah,” you said, suddenly not seeing an issue with his actions. 

“why are we here?” you asked curiously, leaning against the sink, the bathroom was small, just a single-person layout. “you said you wanted to make it up for me, right?” leon reminded, you nodded, your head tilting to the side. “well, you’re gonna make it up to me here, that’s not a problem, right? there’s no harm in a bit of thrill.” he waved off.

“wait, we’re gonna fuck here? but that’s like, totally gross!” you whined, your lips curling into a small pout, leon stepped closer, “it’s not that bad, it’s just a bathroom.” he shrugged, he’s been in worse situations. he’s ran through sewers, lived off scraps in spain, and didn’t have access to showers, he’s been covered in blood and zombie guts before— safe to say, a meek little bathroom at a bar was the least of his worries. 

“but like, the floor is gross and sticky!” you whined, why couldn’t he take you back to his place? that’s so not cool! 

leon hummed, moving to press your body against the porcelain sink of the bathroom, he stood behind you, his hands resting on your hips nicely. “i’m not gonna throw you against the floor, sweetheart, relax,” he said, a small breath leaving his lips as he moved one of his hands against your upper back, applying pressure and bending you over the sink. your manicured hands moved and gripped the sides of the sink as your head leaned up. 

you locked eyes with leon through the mirror, he had the same brooding expression he’s been holding for most of the evening. 

leon’s gaze moved from your back to your pretty face as he gazed at you through the mirror, icy blue eyes meeting your warmer ones. “i’m gonna keep you here, yeah? bent over and pretty, so relax.” he explained, his hands moving back down to your hips, sliding down to grip your ass. he squeezed the flesh of your ass before his hands slipped your denim skirt up. 

“cute,” he complimented, tone coming out more monotone than he intended. you were wearing these cute literally lace panties, they were a cutesy little pastel pink. 

did you always wear these out or were you wearing these just so any guy that wanted to fuck you saw?

your face heated up, your eyebrows furrowing up slightly at his words as you glanced at him. a small whine left your lips, “do you like them?” you asked softly, arching your back nicely, popping your ass out, the curve of it showing off the cute little panties like it was a lingerie ad. or screenshot of a porn video. “yeah,” leon replied, “who are you trying to impress, sweetheart?” he asked, rubbing the curve of your ass idly. 

you bit your bottom lip and swayed your hips twice to side in a slow motion, “you?” cheeky. leon let out a scoffing laugh as his hand moved away from your ass before it came back down, smacking your flesh, your body jolted in surprise. “leon!” ouch! what the fuck! “sorry, i couldn’t help it.” leon said from behind you, looking at the mirror, you noticed the lazy smirk on his lips. 

“you’re mean, at least give me a warning.” you whined, “that would take away the fun, don’t be a baby.” leon grumbled.

pursing your lips, you let out a small huff, asshole!

leon’s hands moved to your panties, hooking his fingers around the waistband before he tugged them down unceremoniously. he was sloppy and drunk, besides, this was a quick bathroom fuck, he wasn’t going to play like the man of your dreams.

chewing on the inside of your cheek, you felt the bathroom breeze caress your exposed skin. 

leon didn’t care enough to push your panties down to your ankles, deciding to just leave them by your mid-thigh.

his hands reached back up to your ass before he angled your hips up slightly and slipped down to his knees. “leon—?” you were just about to ask what he was doing before you were cut off by a gasp being ripped out of your lungs, feeling his warm tongue press against your puffy pussy. 

leon’s lips were pressed against your cunt, one hand holding your thigh up as your weight rested on the porcelain sink, the edge of the sink still digging against your pelvis uncomfortably— but the attention to your pussy was making the discomfort a forgotten thought.

“leon!” you squeaked, your hand squeezing the sink as he sloppily licked and sucked on your cunt. 

was it the best head you’ve ever gotten? no, but you didn’t care— given that it was an older man and hotter than any grimy guy your age, you didn’t really care! 

huffing against your cunt, leon slipped his tongue between your folds, he wasn’t doing this to get you off either, but he didn’t have lube, so spit was the second-best option. with his eyes shut, his nails dug into your thighs, savoring the taste of your cunt. 

you kept your back arched and your ass stuck out as small mewls and whines left your glossy lips, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as your breathing got shaky. 

his licks were quick and sloppy, his own spit rolling down his chin, making his skin glossy before she pulled away from your cunt— a line of drool connecting his tongue and your cunt. 

you let out a noise of displeasure, that was so quick and anti-climactic!

standing back up, leon huffed as he stared down at you, catching the pout on your lips. “what? did you want me to go in without prep?” he asked, letting out a small breathy laugh, “should’ve just told me.” he shrugged, his hands slipping down to his pants as he sloppily undid his belt, fumbling with the leather.

“what? no!” without prep? that would hurt! 

“then stop pouting.” leon bit back. 

slipping his cock out of his pants, he let out a shaky breath as his hand wrapped around it. beating his fist around his dick, leon huffed, feeling his cock come to life slowly— the whiskey was making it hard to keep his cock up, but eventually, he managed a semi. 

good enough. 

moving his cock against your slick cunt, leon nudged the tip against your warm pussy, teasing your folds. letting out a small breath through parted lips, your eyes shut, focusing on the feeling. 

tilting his head to the side as his gaze stayed focused on your cunt, watching your spit covered folds spread as he rubbed his tip up and down your slit, slipping it under before he slapped his shaft against your puffy clit, watching your shoulders tense at the feeling:

“g’nna put it in,” leon mumbled, slurring his words slightly.

“o-okay.”

slipping his tip back against your slit, leon nudged his cock forward, his tip pushing apart your walls, they eagerly spread— warm and wet, welcoming his cock nicely. 

sucking in a sharp breath, leon clenched his jaw as his lips pursed, fuck, was the only thought in his mind.

feeling his cock push past your pussy walls in a slow, savoring pace, your eyes fluttered as they rolled back, your lips parting as a shallow gasp left your lips. gripping the porcelain sink, you whined. “leon..” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip as you raised your gaze to look at him through the mirror. 

“yeah?” he mused, his hips and thighs resting flat against your ass as he held your hips. meeting his gaze, his own eyes were lidded, face flushed pink, “i haven’t even started n’you’re already whimpered like a puppy.” he huffed, moving one hand to your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he yanked it back— making your back arch almost painfully. 

a sharp yelp left your lips at the movement, “..leave me alone,” you replied to his tease, your eyes shutting. 

leon said nothing in reply, instead, he pulled his hips back, feeling your walls hug him snugly, a shuddering breath leaving his lips as he did so. you might be a fucking idiot, but your pussy was making his brain numb. 

gasping out a moan, you felt his cock pull back before it slipped back inside your cunt, his cock nuzzling against your cervix. your pussy was practically a fleshlight if leon thought about it. 

drunk bathroom sex wasn’t something out of a dream or a porno, it wasn’t meant to be meticulous and romantic, it was gross and sloppy— that’s what this was. leon’s cock stuffing in and out of your pretty pussy at an uneven pace, hard, fast, and sloppy. 

“f—fuck—“ you choked out, your hand moving to rest against the mirror as you clung desperately onto something. your eyes were shut, lips parted into an ‘o’ shape as his cock bullied your pussy, “s-slow down!” you squeaked. leon groaned, “you can take it, relax.“ he muttered, hips snapping against yours, heavy balls slapping against your puffy clit. 

letting out a drawn-out moan, you shook your head dumbly, your brain mushy, “no..” you mumbled. yes, you could take it, if anything, you wanted it, but what happened to having fun? leon let out a small grunt, gripping your hair and making you arch more— he leaned over slightly and pressed a small kiss on your forehead, “your pussy is telling me otherwise, sweetheart.” he cooed, letting go of your hair before he gripped your forearms and brought them to your back, keeping them flush against your back before using them as leverage to continue fucking your cunt.

your eyes rolled back as your body rested against the porcelain, fuck! you were so turned on it was hard to place it into words—! you couldn’t even speak. 

guttural moans were leaving your lips, your walls fluttering around his cock, squeezing and gripping, sucking his cock back inside you greedily. 

while leon fucked you, he realized how increasingly louder you were getting. your pretty moans were nothing but an ego boost, but he shouldn’t be fucking a twenty-something-year-old girl in a public bathroom, he doubts the shitty country music that played through the bar speakers was going to be able to drown out your noise if you continue, so he moved to grip your wrists in one hand before he reached out from behind you and clasped over your mouth.

your cunt squeezed, “shhh,” leon cooed, “can’t let people hear you, remember?” he reminded, making sure you kept quiet. nodding, you moaned into his hand and squirmed, cheek pressed against the porcelain. 

mid-fuck, leon’s drunken mind realized something— 

he needed to fucking piss. 

he hasn’t realized it before, but now, his lower belly was aching, his full bladder making sure it’s known. 

he tried to ignore it, he just wanted to cum, honestly— but as he continued to slip his cock in and out of your cunt, the more his bladder ached. the organ crying out at him, all that whiskey from earlier was now aching to come out.. how many drinks did he have before? he doesn’t even remember. 

the pressure in his belly was increasing, he could feel his bladder tossle as he moved, if he pressed on his lower belly right now— right above his pubic bone— it would probably be hard. it was like a balloon, jesus. 

letting out a small hiss, leon muttered an “oh, fuck,” moving his hand from your mouth back to your hip, gripping the fat of your hip tightly. his brow furrowing and jaw clenching as he shut his eyes. 

he could pull out, sure, but he was already do fucking close— “..what happened?” you babbled after hearing the mutter coming from the older man after his hips stilled.

leon glanced over at your face through the mirror, you looked fucked out and faced, face of a fucking pornstar. 

“i gotta take a piss.” he mumbled, his hips stilling, but his cock still nuzzled inside you. “huh?” you mumbled, peeking your head up to meet his gaze through the mirror. “i have to piss.” he repeated, his face was flushed, was it because was embarrassed? because he was in the middle of fucking? or because he was drunk? he didn’t know. 

your mind wasn’t going— too stupid and fucked out to even think straight. 

“then go pee—“ you mumbled, assuming he needed to pull out and take a piss before coming back. 

leon stared down at your cunt, feeling your gummy walls squeeze him real nice, “how about i piss inside you?” he breathed, finding his words humorous, this seemed to bring you back to reality as your head perked up. “w-what?!” you squealed, “ew! don’t do that!” you argued, pee was gross already! and inside you? that’s worse!

leon let out an amused breath, “it’s just pee, sweetheart, why the fuzz?” he mumbled, sucking in a breath and feeling his bladder squeeze, making him shudder.

he already made up his mind.

leaning over you, leon pressed his body weight on your back, keeping you sandwiched over the sink. “everyone pees, don’t get all shy on me now.” he mumbled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder as you whimpered, your cunt squeezing him nicely. “no.. it’s so icky..” you mumbled, letting out a small breath.

“then why are you squeezing me so tight?” his lips pressed against your skin, one of his hands slipping under your body and moving to press against your own lower belly, right above your pubic bone, he kept a firm pressure against your tummy.

“why lie to me?” he mused, “you’re practically choking my dick, if anything it’s like you want me to piss inside you.” he laughed, the alcohol in his system was staining his conscience in his moment. if he was sober, he wouldn’t have even thought about taking a piss inside of someone, but he wasn’t sober, and alcohol makes you do things you normally wouldn’t. so here he was. 

you shook your head slightly, but your cunt stayed tight, fluttering around him, were you really getting turned on by the idea of this man pissing inside you? what happened to you? what would your best friends say if they found out you were letting an older guy fuck you in a gross bathroom and finding it hot he wants to piss inside you? 

leon shuddered, okay— wait, it was getting harder to hold it in. becoming borderline painful. sucking in a breath, he shut his eyes, pressing his nose against your skin, he took in a deep breath— taking in the smell of your sickly sweet strawberry perfume, “i’m gonna piss.” he grunted out, a final warning for simple generosity. 

he might be a creep for fucking a dumb girl in a bar bathroom, but he wasn’t fucking evil. 

at least that’s what he tells himself.

keeping his body pressed against your own, his belly pressing against your curved back, keeping you trapped against the porcelain. 

letting out a shaky breath, leon let himself go, a type of bliss he hadn’t felt in a while enveloped him as the pressure in his bladder released. 

your eyes widened at the feeling, it was so weird! it was an icky full feeling, you could feel it slip out of you, staining your pretty pussy, thighs, panties, and floor. you winced, your eyes shutting, a small frown on your lips as you imagined who was going to clean this mess up. leon’s stream was long and hot, your shoulders were tense, feeling your pussy get filled with his warm piss— ew! 

“s’gross..” you gasped, squirming. 

“shh,” leon mumbled, keeping his hand firm against your lower tummy. 

once he finished, leon let out a deep moan, pissing with a hard-on was fucking hard! but finally, his bladder didn’t feel like it was going to explode, he pressed his face against your shoulder, his body shivering as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you. he let out a panting breath, his hips resting flush against your ass, you let out a small breath, with his body pressing against you and forcing you against the sink it was making it hard to breathe. 

“i can’t breathe—“ you gasped, clawing at the sink.

a small grunt left leon’s lips as he heard you, “shit, sorry.” he mumbled, pulling his body away from yours. moving your head up, you arched your back and took in a deep breath, feeling your pussy squelch, you swear there’s still some piss clogged up inside your cunt. 

your face felt hot, you were about to ask what he was planning to do now, but he beat you to it, moving his hips tentatively, feeling your cunt squeeze and squelch. his hands moved to your hips, squeezing your ass, his dull nails digging into your skin as his thrusts picked up the speed— finding the same sloppy pace from before. 

your brain was fuzzy, your head tilting to the side as a high pitched moan left her lips. 

leon’s cock rubbed against your gummy walls, rubbing against the spongy little spot right by your tummy that had you gasping. you bit your bottom lip and then whined, you had to keep quiet, remember? 

his balls kept slapping against your clit, kissing that bundle of nerves whenever his hips pressed against your ass. leon groaned— another sensation filling his lower belly, blossoming like a pretty flower as his balls swelled up. shutting his eyes, his pace started to get erratic, fucking into you like you were some sex doll, mumbling curses, he leaned his head back, his lips parting as he panted. 

squealing as he bullied your cunt, you whimpered, your words getting caught in your throat. you couldn’t think, you could barely even breathe, your pussy hugging his cock. 

“are you on the pill?” leon asked through gritted teeth as he fucked you— you couldn’t even process what he said, so you only moaned pathetically, “sweetheart,” he said, a little louder to bring you out of your brain fog, his hand moving to rest against the back of your head, “w—wha?” you babbled, “are you on the pill?” he repeated against, tugging at your hair, you whimpered and shook your head, birth control gave you ache! you quit it immediately! 

letting out a small groan, leon nodded, mumbling a small, “okay.” before he let go of your hair. 

your head fell downwards as his thrusts stayed rhythmless and sloppy, his balls felt like they were going to explode, but he didn’t want to pull out, fuck.

“cumming—“ he gasped, his cock twitching eagerly before his cum spurted out of his tip. moaning, he gave you a final thrust, nuzzling his cock inside your pretty pussy before his cum came out in small drools, filling you up nicely. 

your lips quivered as your walls pulsed around his cock, leon stayed still for a few moments, enjoying the last bits of his orgasm before he pulled out of your pussy— watching as his cum leaked out of your cunt before he shuddered. he stepped back, giving the puddle of piss on the floor a glace as he scowled— post nut clarity hitting him. 

oops.

he pulled his jeans back up and shoved his cock back inside his pants before letting out a small breath. 

whining, you moved your hand to your pussy, nimble fingers finding your clit as you rubbed it, “m’leon..” you mumbled, sticking your ass up as your back arched. leon looked back at you, “mhm?” he hummed, “help me.” you whined, still toying with your clit.

oh yeah, you haven’t cum yet. 

he typically wasn’t the type to stick around after a hookup, the magic dies after cumming, but he did piss inside you, the least he could do was get you off. 

“yeah, yeah, gimme a sec.” he mumbled as he zipped his pants up and fumbled with his belt before he stepped closer. 

he reached out, pulling you away from the sink, “c’mere,” he said as you finally got to stand up straight before he stumbled back and plopped down onto the toilet, sitting you on his lap before he spread your legs. he pulled you flush again his body, resting his head on your shoulder as his hands slipped down your tummy before finding your puffy clit. 

once his fingertips pressed against the nub, you shuddered, biting your bottom lip while you grasped his other hand as it was wrapped around your waist. 

leon was quiet as he rubbed your clit, feeling your squirm and twitch in his arms. 

whimpering, your eyebrows furrowed upward as your head leaned back, your orgasm wasn’t too far at least, after a few minutes of moans and gasps, your body tensed. your pussy felt hot, full, and soppy, “leon,” you gasped, wishing his fingers worked faster! 

he let out a small hum in reply, not really bothering to put effort — he was too drunk for that. 

as the tight coil in your lower belly tightened and tightened, a sharp gasp left your lips as it snapped, your hips shuddered as you came. 

your thighs clamped together, trapping leon’s hand between your plush thighs as you rode out your orgasm. your grip on his arm was still tight, your manicured nails digging into his leather jacket while you rolled your hips against his arm, practically humping his hand as you savored the friction against your cunt. 

“there you go,” leon cooed, pressing a small kiss on the side of your neck before he fished out his hand from between your thighs, watching his fingers glisten from your slick.

your legs trembled as you took in a deep breath, leon pushed you up, making you stand. he fixed your skirt and glanced down at your piss-stained panties, “uh,” he began, “you can throw those away.” he said, feeling guilty for ruining such a cute pair. you frowned, “but they’re my favorite..” you whined, they were so cute! and sure, you could take them home and wash them, but you didn’t want to parade around town with pissy panties, getting pissed in was enough for tonight.

sighing heavily, leon scratched his chin, feeling his stubble scratch his skin before he dug into his jacket pocket and dug out his wallet, “here,” he said as he finished out some cash, “get yourself a new pair, sweetheart.” he said, see he wasn’t so bad. “get yourself a plan b while you’re at it.” he said, handing you the cash.

blinking dumbly at him, you took the money, “huh?” 

leon stared back at you, god. fucking idiot. 

“get yourself a new pair of those cute panties, yeah?” he began, you nodded, “and get a plan b too.” he repeated. the clueless look on your face was both making him want to bash his head against a wall while also wanting to shove his cock in your mouth. “do you wanna get pregnant?” he asked, his tone having a hint of frustration in it. 

you shook your head, “exactly.” he sighed. 

“a plan b will help you not do that.” he explained, finally, a look of realization hit your fucked out face, “ohhh.” you said softly as you fisted the cash. 

“well—“ what the fuck does he say now? ‘thanks for letting me fuck you!’ no! that’s sounded stupid, fuck. 

letting out an exhale, he took your arm and nudged you forward. “come on,” he said before he guided you out of the bathroom, his steps were sped up since he didn’t want to be seen leaving the bathroom with a fucked out girl. 

once outside, leon noticed you were still following him like a lost puppy. 

“what are you doing?” he asked, did you not have better things to do? you were practically attached to his hip, “what?” you asked as you blinked slowly, “why are you following me?” he asked, a bit perturbed by your clinginess. 

you paused, “i don’t know.. i wanna go with you.” 

leon chewed on the inside of his cheek. he should’ve known you would’ve wanted to stick around— he had that thought before, but he didn’t think you would actually want to stay at his side.

moving to rub his forehead, leon let out a breath. 

c’mon, don’t pull on his heart strings like that. he couldn’t just leave you on the side of the road after a fuck like that. besides, you stared at him with those doe eyes of yours, you really looked like a lost puppy. 

“fine, okay, c’mon.” he sighed as he lead you to his motorcycle.

what the fuck did he get himself into?

TAGS! @nilpill @rigorwhoring @dollivication @gor3-hound @v0lturiaq @withonly-sweetheart @pupsmoke @flutterylust @angelstargel @ghosty-the-doll @mydarlingclaudia @lolachannel @t1nyb0nes @mj_el2709 @kerredgraveblog @tr3nzit444s @lilbunnyelle @cigarett3wif3

[allurilove]

Camp Counselor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere best friend x fem reader, you guys are both camp counselors, bimbo reader, protective and obsessed behavior, mentions of blowjobs, fingering, manipulation, sort of fwb, he's whipped for you.

*Finally a yandere with a name! He goes by "Pres" or "your best friend." I should be working on other stuff soon, but I can't focus for some reason. LOL! Maybe yandere husband part four next, or the superhero. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your best friend convinces you to go to this remote camp deep into the woods with him. He marketed it as a fun paid getaway, but he was ready to taint your innocence.

You’re the exact person he would go for, and the one he’s been wanting to fuck. He wouldn’t dare to toss you aside like all the other women he’s been with. No, he wants you forever. You're his.

Being a camp counselor with your friend was hard. He had the hots for you, and that was pretty clear. Your best friend was named after the late famous singer Elvis Presley. His parents went absolutely crazy for the rock and roll musician, so much so that they named their son “Presley.” But he went by “Pres,” wanting nothing to do with the man he doesn’t even like.

Pres was a hot-headed and flirtatious nineteen-year-old who was only nice to you. He was a bit troubled and rough around the edges, smoking pot and drinking beer whenever he could. He got into a lot of fights, and most of them were because of you.

You were sweet, bubbly, and innocent. You had a tight, round ass that drove him wild, your hair always blowing in the wind, and your mini clothes accentuated your body perfectly. He bought you anything you wanted and did whatever you asked. Despite his tough exterior, he was a mushy, gushy guy on the inside.

He was your closest childhood friend, always coming to your house for years without a single break. Pres told you about the job, shoving the flyer in your face, and he raved about the opportunity. Money, sleeping in cabins, and taking care of kids—it all seemed pretty easy. It also meant he could have you all to himself for three whole months!

The day before the kids arrived for the summer, the counselors had one last meeting. You were able to check out the cabins, rest up for the night, and be well-rested for the morning. That was until your friend snuck out of his cabin and came to yours.

He tiptoed quietly, clinging to the shadows as he looked around to see if his supervisors were nearby. Slowly, he inched closer to your window. Your friend had told you to keep it unlocked, so he hoped you had listened. He let out a small grunt as he used his biceps to lift the window, which slid up smoothly.

“Oh would you look at that?” He muses, pushing his body though. He eyed you up and down, noticing how you were already in your pink silk nightgown. “Now that’s the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

All of the boring and long hikes to see a couple of mountains meant nothing in comparison to this. Seeing you in your room with lit candles all around, your legs apart, and your supple breasts covered by thin fabric was captivating. His feet found footing on your carpet as he approached closer to your sleeping form. That night, he slept right by your side, not wanting to leave you for a single moment.

You both teetered on the line between just being friends and being lovers. He would try to convince you to make out with him. You were just his type: ditzy, pretty, and downright adorable. He could show you a good time if you let him. His hands would rest on your hips, lovingly rubbing your sides up and down, occasionally slipping lower to your ass.

Presley convinced the kids assigned to you to hang out with his group, all so he could pull you into the woods and put on a cute display. He showered you with little kisses on your neck, his deep, rumbling voice cooing swoon-worthy words, and his brown eyes held so much warmth and affection. It was enough to convince you to get down onto your knees, his cock already pulled out of his tan shorts.

You’re a hot babe. Even hotter with your lips around the head of his cock. It must've been your first time, or you were just struggling with his length. Pres guided your head up and down, and with a loud grunt he came inside your mouth. He would tell you that you did amazing, help you wipe your mouth clean, and he’ll return the favor.

He doesn't understand what personal space even means. Your bed was his, and his was always open for you and only you. Once he got his rowdy kids to settle down in their bunk beds, was the moment he had you trapped outside, his fingers soaking in your cunt. He had his hand around your mouth, his knee pushing your legs apart, and his fingers kept pressing against the spot that had your head spinning.

No matter what he does, you still think you guys are just friends. Even if that word does irk him, he'll use it to his advantage. Showering with him was something friends do, so you can’t really say no. Him helping you clean every crevice of your body was just him being nice. Him choosing specific outfits that he wants to see you in was only because he was a 'fashionista.' He barely gave you any time to argue back when he stuffed your body into the swimsuit in the dead of night.

Pres tried his hardest to woo you. On lake day, he would pull off his shirt, muscles on display, and jump into the water. When he came up to the surface, his hair glistening in the light and his body dripping wet, he would try to catch a fish—doing manly things to show off. If that didn’t work, he would walk inside with you to the grand hall, where he’d make friendship bracelets with you. You were happy to do simple things like that, and he’d even make flower crowns with you.

The yandere was a competitive and athletic man. He would win at all of the games—tug-of-war, rock climbing, and don’t even mention any sort of crossword puzzle near him. All of his winnings would go to you. The chocolate gold coins from See's Candies were yours, the tiny trophy he got for catching the most fish was in your hands before you could blink, and the whittled statue of a moose from capturing the prettiest pictures was promptly put into your bag.

He had his softer moments: carrying your suitcases for you and putting them into the shuttle when camp ended, wrapping his jacket around you when you shivered, and letting you have the window seat because you liked to sightsee. He would remember your favorite snacks (he forced himself to like the same things) and offer his arm to be used as your pillow during the drive.

Right when he thought the relationship had progressed into something more, with your head resting on his shoulder, you said the words he didn’t want to hear: "You're the greatest best friend I have ever had."

Ah, shit. Seriously?

“Mhm, yeah, yeah,” he said unenthusiastically with a slight eye roll, and he gently patted your head. “Just go to sleep.”

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: some nsfw

♡ fem reader

Thinking about what a dumb party girl you are and the poor loser who's stuck tutoring you in all the classes you skip.

You were one of those people who believed everyone to be her friend. The type that went shopping a lot and hung at the mall more days than you bothered showing up to class – a bit of an airhead.

He’d call you a bimbo, but you’re not really known to sleep around – something about finding the right guy.

You opened the door with a smile, “Hi, welcome! Come in~” and pulled him inside by his arm. “I just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed – hope you don’t mind!”

You’re in pink from head to toe – a bit excessively, like you’d gone shopping in the little girl’s section, only… you don’t have a little girl’s body… and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.

“Doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.” He answers nonchalantly – as though he isn’t trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where it’s cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.

“Okay then~” You giggle, interlocking your fingers with his before turning around and leading him in.

His eyes go to the crease of your asscheeks as soon as you turn around, looking at where they peek out from under your bootie shorts – plump squeezable fat jiggling on every peppy step you took in your fluffy bunny slippers as you pull him into the private comfort of your room.

“My parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza – or whatever else you might want~”

You were all alone?

He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Don’t you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesn’t it cross your mind at all how you’d have to call the police if he decided he didn’t want to leave at the end of the night?

“Pizza’s good.”

You smile, plopping down on your bed. “Okay then, mister Tutor~” Everything in your room is pink as well. “What do you have in store for me?”

You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. You’re lucky he isn’t a bad guy.

“Where’s your books?”

You look a little puzzled for a moment – as though it was an unprompted question. “Right! Uhm…”

You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.

“Here.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Have you ever even opened them?”

You giggle again. “I’ve written my name on the inside like a good girl~”

He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat – feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.

“Well, it’s a pretty name.”

You look a little disappointed – or maybe it’s just in his head.

In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which he’d guess had never held any book other than a magazine.

He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And it’s odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you – but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious – if he’s showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.

He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesn’t smell like sweat – and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.

The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair – and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.

Then you say, “What?” as though his reaction surprised you. 

He stays silent – blinking once, then twice – mouth dry and out of words.

You slant your head to the side. “Don’t tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.”

You have a look on your face that makes him feel like begging.

Standing up, you stalk him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down on it with a heavy thud – still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him – rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch – making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.

“You really want this?” He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him – eyes wondering over that cute look of shock riddled all over his face.

You gave him a small catlike smile, bit your lip, and batted your coy doe-eyes down at him – running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didn’t want it.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Shinso ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Gojo, Megumi, Yuuta, Choso ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro ♡ CSM – Aki ♡ DS – Tanjiro, Zenitsu ♡ HxH – Feitan, Leorio

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[shotmrmiller]

whenever simon needs a lay, he doesn't go for girls like you: all snarky attitude and self-assuredness in that hole-in-the-wall bar with the peeling wallpaper, dim lighting, and sagging ceiling tiles. he wants those insecure things; the soft, quiet ones who've been recently dumped and are drinking away their woes. the ones who'll take him to theirs in a drunken haze and wake up startled, kicking him out of the front door without their number and an embarrassed forget this ever happened.

can do, sweetheart. (see ya never.)

but you've caught his interest. maybe it was the way your face was bare— pockmarks on your cheeks and eyebrows untamed—yet you exuded confidence not even that loud bimbo with the fake lashes and vibrant ruby lipstick could ever recreate. maybe it was the way you held your own against that drunken man who attempted to grab a handful of arse over your faded, torn jeans, catching his pathetic bollocks and giving them a gnarly twist.

who knows. who cares.

what matters is that you've caught him by complete surprise.

he figured you were the type to want a firm hand. a couple of harsh slaps to your cheeks (both top and bottom), a fistful of your hair in his grip to pull, and to fuck you into the mattress until your body was imprinted on it.

wrong.

the moment he pulled your hair taut, you'd immediately tangled your clever fingers into his chest hair. "i'm no horse, brit. my hair isn't reins for you to lead me around with."

then he tried to bend you over his knee. proper brat like you needs to be put in'er place.

also wrong. "not that either. not yet anyway."

and then he's wrong a third time because you're no passive participant.

he sloppily eats your cunt like it's his first meal since coming back from urzikstan— warm tongue, thick fingers, and the occasional pinch of his crooked teeth on your swollen bundle of nerves. when he tries to pull away, your entrance more than slick enough to take him without much discomfort, you fervently dig your heels into the scarred tissue of his strong back., stopping him in his tracks.

"you stop 'til i finish and not a moment sooner." his whiskey breath is warm between your legs when he huffs out, "affirm." you're fluttering around his hand in minutes when you start to direct him on how you like it, which he supposes is fortunate for you since he's real good at taking orders and even better at obeying them.

your climax is sweet in his mouth with a subtle hint of brine. the exact opposite of you, he finds. simon doesn't even get the chance to tell you to say anything because you're flipping onto your knees and shoving his rigid length into your mouth. he can't help the strangled sound that escapes him when the tip of him touches the back of your throat, constricting when you gag.

bloody hell.

you look up at him; wide, glassy eyes and sunken cheeks and it's pathetic how he can already feel himself on the precipice of ecstasy and he hasn't even gotten to the good part.

when he watches you place a condom in your mouth and roll it on his cock without hands, simon had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of england to stop the fire that threatened to light him ablaze.

alrigh', enough. on your back.

"no. get on yours."

your small hands push against his barrel chest, gesturing he lie back— today preferably.

impatient bint.

you ignore that quip, opting to wrap your fingers around his thick base and sink onto him in one smooth motion.

slow, don't want ya hurtin' ya'self.

he gnaws on his tongue painfully— almost cutting it open with his canine— to keep from finishing because, bloody fuckin' hell, do you feel like the heaven he'll never see.

simon's hands curl and tighten around the swell of your hips— his blunt, square nails digging into your sensitive skin. "easy," you hiss, "i bruise like a peach."

taste like it, too.

you look so sweet, so pliant while being split open on his cock, hot cunt sodden with your earlier release— it sends mind-numbing arousal tingling up his spine, feeling it at the base of his skull. simon grunts when you begin to move, a languid up and down, gentle but firm. spots dance in his vision when you take all of him, his bollocks flush against your arse.

pretty thing with fire in your eyes taking him so well even though others have needed breaks to work up to it. muscle memory takes over then, his callused fingers automatically searching for your swollen clit, but you slap them away. "too sensitive, i'd only be uncomfortable."

yes ma'am.

you chuckle at that, pussy fluttering as you do and simon hisses through his clenched teeth.

keep tha' up 'nd i'll be done before the fun even starts.

this time you clamp down on purpose, your cunt squeezing his cock like a silken fist. "wouldn't that just be a shame. old man like yourself only got one in you?" the playful taunt sinks its teeth into the ego he's never cared about— leaving behind a mark that stings and lingers— and the lieutenant rears his head, if only for a moment.

watch it.

your eyes widen fractionally but your lips curl at the corners in amusement. "sorry, sir." minx.

his thoughts dissolve like sugar in hot tea once your hips began to rise and fall again, this time a much quicker pace. he surrenders to your unsatiable passion-- a hungry beast, feeding on want, on need-- with only his obsidian-black mask as witness.

for the first time in months (since price bent him over his desk post-op that one time) he's the one getting fucked.

and when you plant your feet by his sides, when your hips cant at the slightest of angles, his flared head presses against something firm and his world ceases to exist, the intensity of now reaching its peak.

when he comes to, your sweat-slick body trembles with effort, your pretty cunt still stuffed to the brim with his softening length. but he's not done with you yet, not by a long shot. now it's his turn.

in a quick movement, you find yourself on your back, looking up at simon, and the mewl that falls from your lips bounces off of the spartan white walls when he hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, and claims you again.

he plans on leaving a delicious ache between your legs that won't let you forget this night-- at least not for the next few days. (not like you could, i mean look at him. plus, he's going to magically forget his gloves here, maybe his pack of cigarettes. he's also definitely jotting down his phone number somewhere.)

forgive me i'm tired now so i lost some air at the end hehehe

[gremlingottoosilly]

monster!koing x bimbo pup!reader (this is my first ever request so I'm shy 🫣)

He trains you on how to take his cock like a good bimbo puppy you are. It's normal for hybrids of your type to be stupid - only makes you gagging and choking on his cock ever more sweet. You're too eager to please, too dumb to understand that you can't just take his cock fully on the first try without any preparation - but you're very determined, and who he is to take away your desire to be useful, right? He likes you being eager, adores the way you'd squeeze your thighs together as you suck on his cock, only fitting half of it while his tentacles caress your face freely. Pushing you down and squeezing your tail - he knows how sensitive it is, and he wants you to be a good puppy and sit here nicely. You're so desperate for head pats and ear scratches you'd do anything to please him - even if it means taking his eggs in your sore pussy and allowing him to use you as his precious cockwarmer. Your body temperature is higher than his tentacles's heat, so he likes to use your holes as a little heating pad. Filling you up with his eggs and making his dumb puppy even dumber - god, just how much he adores having you around... You will easily take him up your pretty round ass if he praises you during the act - you hop on your tummy and spread your pretty legs for him, hole already prepared to take him inside. You beg for him to breed all of holes, to make you his good girl, his pretty girl, the best puppy he ever had - and he can't play the strict owner for too long. Always wanting to make you feel good, Konig pushes his tentacles inside, allowing his inhuman anatomy to make you even tighter while double penetrating you. Always making sure to have at least something stuffed in your holes - and if he gone for as much as day without fucking you or instructing you to use toys to satisfy yourself, he knows just how whiny you're going to get. He wants it, of course. You look the best with your ears flat against your head and your tongue lapping at his cum-covered cock, licking it clean like the good girl you are. He gets you a special collar with him name and a leash that he can tie to the bed when you're being too rowdy. You will get your tail pulled and your pretty ass spanked - but don't worry, he will make sure to stuff it with something nice and big after. If you promise to be a good pup, of course.

[bimbosanddolls]

Do you think there’s a way someone heavier could be a hot airhead bimbo? I’d love that life but my body has decided that anything short of a disorder keeps me fat 😔

I want you to listen to me very carefully, because I'm only going to say this once:

Bimbo is not a body type! It is a mindset. An attitude. A lifestyle.

I am so sorry that media has told you that bimbos only come in the thin and tanned barbie, or hourglass bombshell varieties.

They are lying.

It doesn't matter if you're heavy, flat, curvy, tall, short, dark, or pale. It doesn't matter if you're AMAB, non-binary, genderfluid, trans, two-spirited, or completely agender.

YOU CAN BE A BIMBO!

And a super hot one at that! Like, look at someone like Lizzo. She is the opposite of what a lot of people might try to say qualifies as "bimbo" but she absolutely checks a lot of the boxes. Her style and attitude are very bimbo. And she's an absolute icon!

If this is what you want, no one can stop you. Be the baddest bimbo on the block, babe!

[not-neverland06]

big bad wolf

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: inspired by the fact that Hugh Jackman thought wolverines were just a type of wolf and no one corrected him. Rusty because I haven’t written smut in a while so you guys aren’t allowed to talk any shit. Plus, I’m too much of a wimp to be like extremely explicit, but these prompts ( one, two, three) together were too good to pass up. 

SMUT 18+ (my slight monsterfucker tendencies might shine through in this one)

Summary: Logan's told you a million times not to take the path through the woods. You never listen, of course. Now there's a monster on your tail and you're all alone. (part of my Halloween Palooza)

You never should have taken this path. You knew it was going to happen, Logan had warned you, and you still didn’t listen. Now, you’re in the middle of the woods, completely turned around and on the verge of tears. God, why do you never listen?

You put your groceries down and pull out your phone. Through the thick spread of leaves, you get minimal moonlight. You’re surrounded by shifting shadows and rustling undergrowth. Everywhere you turn is a monster waiting to leap out at you. 

When you were little you were petrified of the dark. You hated the shapes you saw lurking within it. You’d outgrown that as an adult, but now, you can barely breathe as your eyes dart all around. The childish fear is returned with a vengeance and you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack. 

You flip open your phone, squatting on the ground and trying to conserve your body's warmth. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees since you left the house. Of course, Logan had told you to bring a jacket too. Did you listen? No. 

You were only going out to get some chips and dip, you really didn’t think it would take so long. But then you’d got caught up talking to one of your friends and before you knew it, it was pitch black outside. You should have just called Logan at the store, asked him for a ride. Now, you’re staring down at the flickering screen of your flip phone and about to sob as you see the bars disappearing. 

“No fucking service, of course,” you hiss and shove the phone back in your pocket. The battery’s nearly dead anyway. You doubt it would have lasted long enough for a phone call. You run a stressed hand over your face, trying to calm your breathing down. 

You’re trying to trick yourself into thinking that everything’s okay. That the shadows are just shadows and you’re scared. Then you hear it. 

It’s a low noise, something out of your worst nightmares. There’s an immediate spike of adrenaline as an inhuman growl echoes through the night air. You swear you can feel it inside your chest. It rumbles through the animal, bursts through clenched fangs, and makes the hair on your neck stand on end. 

You glance over your shoulder, mouth parted in a silent scream. You don’t see anything, you can’t. You just barely make out the branches shifting nearby before you’re leaping to your feet. You almost call out, see whose there, but that feels like the last move every bimbo makes in a horror movie. 

So, you do something arguably worse. You abandon your groceries and purse and bolt. Immediately you can hear its pounding footsteps chasing after you. You do scream now, there’s no point in swallowing it down. It’s like the terror is ripping through you, making you stumble over every branch and rock in your path. 

You know it's faster than you. You can hear how easily its keeping up its stride behind you. This feels like a game to it. It's just teasing you, dangling freedom in front of its prey before it closes its drooling maw around your neck. 

You trip over an enlarged root and go flying forward. Rocks scrape across your arm and you let out a short shriek of pain. The flesh tears easily on the sharp points and the metallic scent of your blood fills the air. It comes to a sudden stop a few feet away from you. There are no thoughts in your head besides the voice screaming at you to RUN!

It tells you to keep running. If you stop it will catch you and it will kill you. This is no longer a product of your imagination. This is real and it is hungry for you. You scramble to your feet, boots slipping along the muddy forest floor. You dig your fingers into the earth, feel the dirt slide under your nails, and launch yourself forward. You nearly flip your feet over your head but you manage to keep yourself steady. 

You can’t hear the steps behind you. The beat of your heart pounds through your head, drives you forward, and discombobulates you all the same. Blood rushes so quickly beneath your skin that you can feel your vessels swelling with the warmth of your terror-fueled adrenaline. 

You’ve never felt so inferior before, like a rabbit desperately trying to escape the hungry jaws of a wolf. Your legs are moving faster than they ever have, you’re bounding, racing, leaping through the forest. You move through it like you were born in it, anything to escape whatever was following you. 

You no longer remember the way home or what home is. You can only focus on right now. You don’t notice the dark shape running alongside you, or how easily it keeps pace. Not until it’s barreling into your side and you go slamming into the ground again. Your head nearly bounces against a rock but something slides underneath it, stopping the impact at the last second. 

Something rough grips at your face. You’re still blind, blood rushing so hard beneath your skin, you’re practically blind with panic. You bite down, taste flesh, and hold on until blood rushes into your mouth. The metallic tang of it is like poison against your tongue but you don’t let go. 

“Release!” He orders you like a dog. His voice is so thick with anger and hunger that you barely recognize it. But something clicks in your head and you unlock your jaw from his palm. “The fuck have I told you about taking this path?” Again, his voice is so thick with volatile rage that you barely register it. 

“Sorry,” you sob out, shoving at his chest and scrambling to sit up. But he keeps you pinned to the ground, one hand clamped tightly around your neck and the other pushing down against your stomach. You can feel something hard against your thigh but you pay it no mind, still struggling to catch your breath. 

You take in deep, heaving, gasps of air and the moon shifts overhead. It gives you just enough light to see Logan clearly now. You nearly choke at the sight of his face. His lips are peeled back, sharpened points of teeth causing blood to bead along his lower lips. His beard seems scruffier than normal and there’s a golden glow to his eyes. 

“What the fuck?” You stutter out, glaring up at him. You’ve seen him angry before. But you’ve never seen him quite so animalistic. “Logan?” You whisper his name hesitantly and it only makes him look more pissed off. You shrink back, though there’s not far to go with him holding you like this. 

His hips shift down and you bite down on your lip so a pathetic whimper doesn’t escape you. His head tilts curiously, gaze raking over your heaving chest and then down to the too-short shorts you’d put on earlier. 

He gives you a look of astonished disbelief, “You fuckin’ kidding me?” 

The hand on your stomach drifts down to the waistband of your shorts. Your eyes widen when you realize what he’s trying to do. “Logan, wait-” Too late. He rips the shorts down your legs and his eyes widen. The sneer of his lips finally melts away as he sees the clear wet spot in the middle of your underwear. 

You don’t even get a chance to defend yourself before he’s gripping your hips and flipping you over. Your hands struggle for purchase on the slippery rock in front of you. You try and glance back at him, but he buries a hand in your hair, tugging harshly, and forcing your face forward. 

“Logan, please,” you whine, thoroughly humiliated as he sits behind you, silently examining your battered form. You’d tripped more than you thought while you’d been running from him. The adrenaline has just barely waned enough for you to feel the bruises forming. But he has no sympathy for your plight, if anything your tears seem to egg him on. 

“What have I told you about taking this path?” You bite your tongue, a sudden refusal to answer raging forth. He’s got you half-naked on your hands and knees after chasing you through the woods. You shouldn’t have to be scolded like an imbecile on top of that. 

He leans over you, the weight of his body pushing forward, your arms strain to keep you both up. You grit your teeth, still keeping your mouth clamped shut. He chuckles, the noise so low you feel it rattling through you rather than hear it. “I could hear you.”

His hand drifts down your bicep, wraps around your front, and rests over your breasts. “Could hear how fast your heart was beating. It’s still about to come out of your chest.” You suck in a sharp breath, keeping yourself from arching into his touch.

His nose lingers against the side of your head, dipping towards your neck and inhaling deeply. Your face wrinkles in confusion as he practically smells you. “I can smell how terrified you were.” His hand suddenly jerks your head back and you can’t help but yelp. There’s a smirk on his lips as he finally gets a noise from you. 

You can feel the desire practically dripping down your thighs at this point. All you can think about is how powerful he is. How hungry he is for you. You want him to devour you, completely wreck you. 

He releases you and without his support, you slump forward, neck bowing awkwardly. You try and right yourself but one of his hands grips your neck so tight you can feel the blood rushing up into your face. He pins you there and the only warning you have of what he’s about to do is the sound of his belt buckle coming undone. 

He thrusts into you and your jaw drops. You inhale the dirt beneath you and it tastes remarkably like blood. He pushes your cheek further into the ground and you grunt as tiny little pebbles have their taste of your flesh. 

Had you not been so wet, you doubt you would have enjoyed a second of this. But, because his chasing you down like something feral made you more aroused than you have been in months, you let out a pathetic moan beneath him. It borders on the thin line between pain and pleasure. But each rough thrust inside you blurs the line until they’re indiscernible from one another. 

Your fists curl up, mud sticking in the lines of your palm as he takes you like you’re nothing more than a toy. You shouldn’t like this, shouldn’t like how used you feel. But you relish it. Relish in how crazy you make him, to the point that he’d lose his mind and use you like this. 

He’s like a fucking animal. Taking what he wants from you with no concern or care to whether you like it or not. He’s panting and grunting behind you, you don’t understand the insults spewing from his mouth because there’s blood rushing in your ears and you feel like you might pass out. 

The adrenaline and residual terror from earlier are building into one explosive moment inside you. Your fingers tremble with it, your limbs burn from the volatile feeling and you can’t help the noises being forced out of you.  It doesn’t take much longer for you to combust. 

Pleasure rushes through you, makes you numb to the world around you. A dulled tickling feeling rushes through every part of you. Your arms go limp and he’s quick to wrap a hand around your waist, keeping you upright. He presses into your lower back, arching it until he’s hitting the spot inside you that causes aftershocks of painful pleasure. 

Your core throbs as you pulse around him. Sucking him deeper until his hips come to an erratic stop and he spills inside you. You keep your forehead pressed to the cool earth beneath you. You never actually managed to catch your breath before and now it just feels like you’re five seconds away from hyperventilating. 

A soothing hand runs up and down your spine, he curls around you and helps you to sit up. His voice is a low whisper, “You alright?”

You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and giving him a shaky nod. He laughs and pulls you to stand up. Your legs were limp from running earlier, now they’re practically boneless. He keeps you propped against him and pulls your shorts back up. 

He buttons his jeans and straightens. His eyes narrow as he glares down at you. He cups your chin, tilting your head to examine the scratches on your cheeks and tutting at you. His fingers tighten to the point of pain and he jerks your face up to meet his eyes. “You gonna come down this path again?”

After that, yes. You completely would. He sees the look on your face and rolls his eyes. He leans down, tossing you over his shoulder and groaning. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“You like it,” you taunt, tugging at his shirt for balance. 

He shakes his head but you know he’s smiling. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Same time next week?” You tease as he goes back for your groceries and purse. 

“Don’t push it,” he snaps. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross  ♡ 

[itneverendshere]

hiiii, i just read the school spirit fic with rafe AND ITS THE BEST FUCKING THING. i need a part 2 desperately please, i need rafe to play the best game he is ever played and everyone it’s like wtf but like omg. AND THE LAST GOL HE LIKE DEDICATES IT TO READER POINTING TO THE BLEACHERS. and then reader just goes with it and they fuck… please i need it

you ask and you shall receive! hope you enjoy <33

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part ii

warnings: smut! paring: smart!reader x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; read part i here; part iii word count: 4.7k

you were losing your fucking mind.

what were you thinking? oh, right! you weren’t.

the entire situation felt surreal, but there was no backing down now.

plus, when did some little dick hurt your feelings?

it was a win-win like you said before. if he won, you got laid after months without feeling a human's touch. if he lost, you wouldn't get laid and just walked away. either way, you’re not entirely disappointed with the outcome.

or at least that’s why you’ve been telling yourself.

as you walked to the stadium, your heart pounded in your chest, legs threatning to give out underneath you. yeah, you were a little nervous. but you blamed it on pope for giving you so much shit about the game.

he’d been insistent on you learning the rules, the players’ names, even memorizing their more common plays. it felt like he was trying to coach you into a small version of josé mourinho. 

everyone knew you were not the type to get invested in sports, let alone a college soccer match, but today was different and you were stupid enough to let your best friend convince you to wear a stupid jersey with rafe’s name and number on it.

13.

of course that walking disaster of a man would choose the unlucky number for himself. 

as you entered the stadium, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming. the chants, the cheers, the jeers—had you mentioned this was your first time watching a game? in real life? you knew people took this seriously, but it felt absolutely insane to witness it.

you could see the players warming up on the field, rafe among them.

he looked so different out there, focused and intense, very different to the reckless, unpredictable guy you were used to.

you followed pope like a lost puppy, and quickly found your seats in the stands, right in the middle of a sea of fans. some were dressed in the team's colors, others wore jerseys like yours, proudly displaying their favorite player's name and number. you felt out of place, a fraud among true fans, but there was no turning back now.

“turn that frown upside down, you gonna scare the bitches away.”

you rolled your eyes, “stop calling everyone bitches.”

from the corner of your right eye, you saw pope leaning closer, and without so much of a glance, you could tell he was about to spew out something stupid to piss you off.

“why are you so tense, hmmm? you’re getting laid tonight bro, cheer up!”

your hand instantly lifted to knock some sense into his head, “keep it down!” you hiss in his ear, “jesus.”

he just laughed, entirely unfazed by your irritation. “relaxxx, no one’s paying attention to us,” he said, casually draping an arm over the back of your seat. “they’re all too busy worshipping our soccer gods.”

you couldn’t help but glance around, noting the faces of fans who seemed to live and breathe for this moment. it was a different world, one you never quite understood.

you looked back at the field, your eyes finding rafe again. he was in his element, effortlessly moving through the warm-up drills, every motion proof to his athleticism. for a moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate the view. his jersey clung to his body, emphasizing muscles you hadn’t really paid attention to before…closely.

“hey,” pope nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie. “you’re drooling.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at your lips, “i’m assessing the task.”

“don’t worry. rumor has it he’s big.”

you shot pope a glare, half-amused and half-exasperated. "do you ever shut the fuck up?"

pope just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’m dead serious.”

you were quiet for a minute. eyes drifting along rafe’s body, stopping—

“how big?”

“what?”

“how big.” you muttered under your breath, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack your friend for his relentless teasing.

he only sent you a wink, “you’ll find out soon enough sweetcheeks, it’s okay.”

"you’re so annoying," you gritted trough your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, “so annoying.”

pope just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "the game’s starting, enjoy the view.”

the game started, and you tried to follow along, remembering pope's endless lectures. but rafe was everywhere, moving with a kind of grace you didn't know he possessed, toned legs carrying effortlessly across the field.

you watched him, transfixed, as he commanded the team, shouting orders and making plays. it was like seeing a different side of him, a side you couldn't reconcile with the rafe who caused so much chaos in the library. it was kinda hot. when he touched the ball, your heart leaped into your throat. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him. 

then, it happened.

he dribbled past defenders as if they were mere obstacles in his way and then, he unleashed a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air, a perfect arc that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot. time seemed to slow down as everyone watched with bated breath. then, the net rippled as the ball slammed into the back, and the stadium exploded.

"and cameron with an explosive start here! just six minutes into the game, and he's already showing us why he's a force to be reckoned with. that was a textbook example of skill and determination, folks! he saw the opportunity, he seized it, and he made it count! our boy is back!”

“holy fuck!” pope all but screamed in your ear as the crowd went wild, “what the hell did you tell him?!”

you turned to him, still sitting, momentarily speechless, as the realization sunk in that maybe, just maybe, your unconventional motivation had really ignited something within rafe. 

"i don't know," you managed to shout back, your voice drowned out by the crowd. but deep down, you knew. maybe it wasn't about the specifics of what you promised but the audacity of your offer that spurred him on.

as the game rolled on, rafe's presence on the field took over. every move he made sparked cheers and chants from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere. it was a far cry from your usual indifference to sports, but you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of it all.

in every pass, every interception, and every almost-goal, whenever he got the ball, the whole stadium seemed to hold its breath, as did you, waiting to see what he'd do next.

you were a hypocrite.

because he scored, again. 

when you thought, he was done showing off and making you eat your last week’s words up, you saw him turn to the stands after he celebrated the last goal with his teammates and your heart dropped to your ass.

there was no way in hell he was going to find you in that sea of people, right? you were safe. he was scanning the crowd, your section...searching for... you.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, trying to shrink into your seat. 

“yeah, that’s on me. sorry. told him your seat.”

if you weren’t about to puke, you would’ve punched pope in the face, instead you chose to keep your head down, eyes rooted to your beat up adidas, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“he’s coming up.”

you lifted your head, looking at pope incredulously, “he’s what?! pope, don’t fuck with me.”

“i’m sorry it was just too funny,” pope snickered, shaking his head, “he’s not coming, but he’s staring at you with those love-sick puppy eyes.”

you reluctantly glanced down to find him staring directly at you, chest heaving as he brushed a few stubborn strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead.

you almost, key word almost, gasped at you handsome he looked.

then a grin spread slowly across his lips. without breaking eye contact, he subtly raised his hand, a gesture only you could understand.

and it hit you. it was a callback to your shared sign language class in freshman year.

how the fuck did he remember that? you didn’t. not until he did it. 

hi beautiful.

you’d never felt the need to swoon over a man before. now you might. after what feels like an eternity, but were just mere seconds, you gathered your courage and raised your hand, mirroring his sign for a simple "hi" and adding a tentative smile.

it was an easy gesture, but it felt…different. rafe's smile widened in response before he turned to run back into the field.

pope, ever the instigator, nudged you again. "that was smooth.”

the glare returned to your face.

the rest of the game unfolded in a blur. rafe continued to dominate the field, scoring goal after goal with precision and skill that left you in awe. each time he celebrated, you found yourself holding your breath. 

when the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted in celebration, your jaw was nearly on the floor.

had he played like that his entire life? was this the same boy that you threatened to punch in the face if he didn’t get his life together? the team's victory was clear—a resounding 4-0 win.

"remember that name, folks—rafe cameron. he's not just a player; he's a game-changer. and with plays like that, he's proving why he's a standout talent on this field today!"

"well," pope finally managed to say, his voice tinged with disbelief, "looks like you're in for a ride."

you could only nod dumbly as you watched rafe celebrate with his teammates, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

you swore you even saw him hug jj. 

as the stadium began to empty, you lingered in your seat, watching as rafe disappeared into the locker room with his team to shower. eventually, you gathered your belongings and followed pope out of the stadium.

“you gonna wait for him here?”

“i don’t know,” you groaned, itching to warm your freezing hands, “didn’t plan ahead.”

"so..." pope started again, "what's the plan now? going to find him?"

“i told—“ 

you were about to drill some common sense into pope when you feel something touch your back. not just something. a warm, blazing palm settling at the end of your back.

you froze, your heart racing as the warmth seeped through your jacket.

“cameron, nice game, for once.”

ignoring pope’s teasing, you leaned your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. and there he was. looking at you with that same confident tilt on his pretty lips that had both infuriated and intrigued you countless times before.

"hey," rafe said, his voice slightly breathless from the intensity of the game and the excitement still coursing through him.

"hey," you managed to reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh okay. i get it.”

rafe glanced over at pope with a knowing smirk. "thanks for coming out, man.”

“you’re welcome by the way.”

rafe ignored the comment, eyes remained fixed on you. "glad you could make it," he said, his tone softer now.

“okayyy, i’m leaving. stay safe, byee!”

“pope,” you yelled out as he excused himself, “my doorm keys are in your car.”

“that sounds like a you problem.”

you stared after pope, mouth slightly agape, as he disappeared into the crowd. you'd have to figure that out later. for now, there was rafe, standing so close that the air between you didn’t seem enough. 

"guess we're stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual, mentally cringing at how stupid it sounded.

rafe only chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin, "seems like it."

“sooo—“

before you could finish your sentence, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

and then he kissed you

it was messy, sensual, and bruising all at once. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. instead, you matched his intensity, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much need. it felt like you were losing your fucking mind, but you didn't care.

he just felt so good.

his hands roamed up your lower back, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into him. his kiss was demanding, with a sense of deep-seated need that you hadn’t anticipated.

your fingers tangled in his hair, wondering if you’d ever get the chance to do this again after tonight. when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you tried to regain your composure. 

his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, “we’re leaving now.”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “now?”

“yeah, now.” rafe’s voice was resolute, leaving no room for argument.

he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. oh wow, you liked this.

“what are you doing?” you managed to gasp out, clinging to his shoulders for stability. he was so fucking strong it nearly made you want to eat him whole.

“taking you to bed,” he replied, his voice low, “we’ve got unfinished business.”

the walk to his dorm? you couldn’t remember.

you were acutely aware of the curious stares from other students, but you didn’t care. maybe the day after.

rafe cameron was carrying you on his arms inside his fraternity and when he finally reached his dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot, carrying you inside, before locking it. he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

there was a fire there, an intensity that made your knees weak.

“that wasn’t fair, y’know."

your brows furrowed in confusion.

“tempting me for weeks.”

“well—i didn’t think—nmph!”

his lips were on yours again, the kiss just as desperate as before. you melted into him, your body pressing against his as you gave in to the sensation of his hands exploring your back, pulling you closer. your fingers fumbled to remove his shirt. he’d showered after the game but you were still wearing his jersey. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, enjoying at the hard planes of his body.

his hands found the hem of your own jersey, “you’re gonna wear this to every game, you hear me?”

you tilted your head to the side, in mock confusion, “who said i'm going to your games?”

he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin as his hands worked to pull the jersey over your head.

“oh, baby. you will. you won’t be able to stay away.”

“confident, are we?” you teased, even as your breath hitched at the way his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“you’ll see.”

he was kissing you.

again.

more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you reveled in the feeling of being wanted so intensely. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

you felt the hard press of him against you, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted you. he carried you over to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements.

 he hovered over you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your body, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went along.

you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. “then stop talking and show me.”

that was the only warning rafe needed.

his hands were everywhere—tugging at your shorts, tracing the curves of your body, driving you wild with anticipation. he finally rid you of your remaining clothes, and you couldn’t help but shiver as the cool air hit your heated skin. but it didn’t last long, not with his body pressing against yours, his warmth enveloping you.

you lost yourself in the sensation—the taste of him, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the way he pressed into you.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

“god, yes,” you all but mewled, your hands clutching at his sheets, needing him to just do something, “need you to touch me right now.”

his fingers trailed down your body with deliberate slowness, “tell me how.”

you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate what you needed. your mind was a haze of want and need, every nerve ending screaming for him.

but somehow, you managed to speak, “everywhere.”

a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he dipped his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing and kneading as his mouth worked its magic. 

“like this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

son of a bitch.

“yeah, oh, just like that,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his blonde hair, holding him close. “don’t stop.”

he didn’t.

his mouth and hands continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you up the fucking walls. his lips trailed down your stomach, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake.

oh you needed to be fucked all right.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area. 

“rafe,” you pleaded, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent demand, “don’t be a dick.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “so needy,” he teased, but his voice was filled with reverent awe.

without further warning, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving into your folds with a hunger that made you cry out. he licked and sucked, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devoured you. 

this man ate pussy like the champion that he was and you loved it.

his tongue flicked against your clit with precision, with ease. rafe was relentless, his mouth working you to the brink, then easing off just enough to keep you on edge.

“fuck, rafe,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more.

he growled in response, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure, and you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. he must have sensed it, because his pace quickened, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with the throbbing need building inside you.

your head was spinning as you looked down at him and met his heavy-lidded gaze searing a path straight to your core. you could only grab his bicep for stability, digging your nails into his skin.

and then, with a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, you came apart, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. rafe didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding you through your climax until you were a boneless, quivering mess beneath him.

you never came so fast in your life. 

when he lifted his head, his lips glistened with your arousal as he crawled back up your body. he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, the sensation of his weight pressing you into the mattress grounding you as you came down from your high.

“holy shit,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “good job, cameron.”

he grinned, a boyish, cocky smile that somehow made you want him even more. “glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured, his voice a rough, sexy whisper against your lips.

you reached down, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, desperate to feel him inside you.

“your turn,” you pulled his shorts down enough to free his cock. it sprang free, hard and heavy, and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly.

oh wow.

so big big.

your hand moved around rafe’s cock lazily, feeling its weight and heat in your palm. he hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch. you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of him—so strong, so utterly at your mercy.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” rafe muttered, his voice strained with need. he watched your hand with hooded eyes, his hips thrusting slightly in time with your movements.

you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him.

you grinned up at him, loving the way his breath hitched with every stroke. “don’t like it?”

his laugh was breathless, shaky. “oh, i do. but this—” he broke off with a groan as you squeezed him a little harder, “—this is something else.”

without breaking eye contact, you guided him towards your entrance, positioning him at your slick opening. he paused, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. 

“condom?” 

you nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. “yeah.”

rafe reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before retrieving a condom. you watched, heart racing, as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet of the room. he rolled it on swiftly, his movements sure and practiced. with the condom in place, he positioned himself between your legs.

he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until you thought you might break. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that made you gasp, you were holding on for dear life as he filled you completely.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, his hands cradling your face tenderly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “’m good. just—move.”

rafe didn’t need any more encouragement.

he started to thrust, slow and deep, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. his pace increased, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more frantic.

“can’t believe— fuck, oh, this is happening.”

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice breaking with every thrust. “just—don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. he rubbed it in tight, relentless circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being. 

“fuck, that’s it,” rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grip on your hip tightening ,“so fucking beautiful.”

his lips found yours in an all-spit kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched the relentless pace of his hips. your fingers dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"oh fuck," you gasped, breaking the kiss as the sensations overwhelmed you, “rafe,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, “i’m—”

“i know,” he cut you off, his voice strained. “me too.”

you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body on fire. and then you were falling, your orgasm crashing over you, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms.

your climax triggered his own, and seconds later with a few more powerful trusts, he buried himself deep inside you, body shuddering as he came, his moans low and hot in your ear.

you held onto him, feeling the rhythmic pulses of his release, the raw, primal intensity of it making your head spin.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both trying to catch your breath, your bodies still intertwined. then, rafe rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were lying against his chest.

you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. you lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. you felt strangely happy, considering everything that had led to this moment, but you didn’t want to question it.

“so,” his fingers trailed lazily up and down your arm, “does this mean you’re coming to my next game?”

“not sure.”

the sensation of rafe still inside you, combined with the aftermath of your shared orgasm, left you both in a haze of pleasure.

but you weren’t done yet.

there was a need within you that demanded more, a desire to push the boundaries even further.

you slid out from beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. his blue eyes widened slightly as he watched you, curiosity and anticipation written all over his face. you settled yourself between his legs, your hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs before wrapping around his still-hard cock, after you pulled and tied the condom, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner.

“w—what are you doing?” 

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, you focused on stroking him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the pulse of his desire beneath your fingers. rafe groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

overstimulation was a bitch. so were you sometimes.

“you won, right?” you replied, your voice sultry. “here’s your prize.”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “are you trying—oh fuck. trying to kill me?”

you smirked, increasing the pace of your strokes, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. “is that a complaint?”

“not even close,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

you could see the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing, his breaths coming faster. you leaned down, letting your tongue flick over the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of him. he jerked, a guttural groan escaping his lips, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

“baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you took him deeper into your mouth, your hand still working the base of his shaft, “shit.”

you reveled in the power you had over him, the way his body responded to your every touch, your every movement.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him hard. his hands moved to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, but not forcing you.

it only made him hotter.

the sounds he made, the way he writhed beneath you, only spurred you on. you wanted to push him over the edge, to see him come again because of you. you pulled back slightly, your hand pumping him faster, your mouth focusing on the sensitive head, your tongue swirling around it, teasing him mercilessly.

“’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening. “please, don’t stop.”

you had no intention of stopping. 

you increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, driving him towards his release. you felt his body tensing even more, his breaths coming in ragged pants, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled himself into you with a hoarse cry.

you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, the satisfaction of knowing you had pushed him to this point. when you finally pulled back, rafe was a panting mess, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling.

“you just made me fall in love with you, again.”

"what?"

[noyasmashing]

hii how are you doing? i was wondering if you could do bimbo!ushijima x smaller reader? i don’t have any specific kinks for this one you can choose ;)

I just want to PEG this man.

Wakatoshi appears to be the type who takes pride in being a top, and everyone believes him due to obvious reasons, especially his size compared to yours, which made it seem so plausible. However, when you two are alone, he transforms into your subby little baby who is unsure of what to do with his fat cock :((

Any time Wakatoshi attempts to top you, he’s crying. Despite you pointing out the significant size difference between the two of you, he just can’t do it. Suddenly, the expert control he usually possesses over his body evaporates, and he desperately pleads for you to regain control.

Oh, and let's not forget about his thighs. This man has dedicated his entire life to training them, resulting in their impressive size and muscularity. But when you eight inches deep inside him, his thighs tremble like a leaf. He tries his hardest to maintain composure and suppress his moans, but he fails miserably. The stoic face that graces Japan's magazines is now stained with tears. Wakatoshi is secretly a vulnerable, quivering crybaby when you fuck him.

His body is incredibly sensitive overall, especially his thighs. Just the slightest touch can make them shake uncontrollably. Imagine teasing him, not as a form of punishment, but solely because you want to witness his beefy thighs quivering under your touch as you leave hickeys on them.

However, his abs may be the most sensitive part of his body. He reflexively trembles and flinches when your hand grazes across them. Picture the expression on his face when you press your hand down on his stomach while thrusting into him. It's an overwhelming amount of stimulation all at once! But it could easily be the catalyst that pushes him over the edge...

He also craves to be babied, seeking comfort after a strenuous day of training. All he wants is a soothing, leisurely bath followed by the warmth of your embrace while he sits in your lap. It's endearing how he revels in being treated as the smaller one, his adorable pleas for your affection echoing softly, "Mommy, please understand, I know I'm heavy, but I truly need this, please, please, please." How can you resist granting his request when he asks so nicely? He's such a good slut for you. Make sure to shower him with attention and pamper him, before he cums in his pants from the attention <33

[madamechrissy]

✞ Forgive me For I have Sinned ✞

✞ Pairings: Priest Gojo x Fem Reader

✞ Word count - 5.7k

✞ Content/Warnings- You keep having dreams about Father Gojo, and he decides to try to save your slutty soul <3 NSFW, sacrilegious, confessional fucking, rosaries as bondage, lots of filling you w/love and light, oral (both receiving) fingering, explicit church sex, reader is a lil bimbo and innocent fr, Gojo has a HELL of a God complex (canon tbh) overall kinky asf

A/N- Booking the tix to hell-who's coming with!? I based off this drabble of mine: Priest! Gojo (you can read it first if you want!) Reader and Gojo are in their mid 20s. Enjoy!

It was hot outside, a scorching summer day, the type that made you want to jump in an icy cool lake naked, but in the sanctuary of this pristine church which is kept rather cool, you still have a drip of sweat beading down your collarbone. You’re wearing a pretty red summer dress, your little hat right next to you in the pew, as you watch him with avid attention.

Father Satoru Gojo.

The entire church is in love with him, enamored by him, there are admiring whispers even amongst the most vigilant catholics, the ones who would judge you for coming not in your Sunday best. They hid it well enough, acting as if they only cared so much because his sermons were so powerful, because he was so young and profound already.

But you know better, and they know better deep down, that Father Gojo was just gorgeous, a face chiseled to perfection, tall and broad shouldered, swoon worthy by all accounts. His husky voice and insane presence that shines brilliantly like a million diamonds certainly helps, but his face itself is so pretty it’s angelic.

When he looks at you with those brilliant blue eyes, swirling like a moody storm, all glittery behind those snowy white lashes? Well you feel…

You’re going to hell.

Last night you’d had this insane dream of him, where he has asked you to serve him on your knees, just as he would offer that eucharist and wine to you, but instead it’s his cum you’re swallowing. And you’re a good, God fearing girl, so, you certainly should not do or think of such things! And worst of all, with your priest, Father Gojo. He has vows too, yet you’d committed much sin already.

Just last night you’d awakened throbbing, having dreamt of pleasuring him, on your knees before him, and you’d been soaking wet and dripping down your shorts, even the sheet had a wet spot. You’d rubbed your swollen little clit in circles, gasping and arching your back, feeling fevered as you committed such sins, as picturing Father Gojo had you climaxing all over your own fingers.

You’d been so ashamed this morning! You’d splashed cold water on your face, staring at yourself in your mirror, shivering as the cool water dripped down your skin, knowing you should stay home, find some new church. You are full of impure thoughts and sin, and it’s all because of him, how could you confide in him that you feel this way, think this way?

What would he do if he knew? Cast you out or…

Stop it.

But as you’re crossing your legs, shifting your hips, you see Satoru Gojo’s full, pouty lips part, his eyes directly on you. You pause then, eyes wide, you must be imagining it, your sin surely is carrying over too far… but you test it, crossing your legs once more, and sure enough, his eyes follow your legs up, between your thighs, surely seeing your panties.

That gives you a fucking thrill you can’t describe, as does him licking his thumb, going to another page as he continues his sermon, women all over are fanning themselves, enamored by him. But perhaps none so much as you, picturing what’s under that cassock, under those white robes he wears, what that long, lithe body would feel like against yours.

You imagine your dream vividly later when he’s giving you the eucharist, placing the biscuit on your tongue as you hold your mouth open on your knees, then you see it, the hunger mirrored in his eyes. You tremble when he brushes a thumb over your lower lip, and your eyes drift to his lap, where you clearly see he’s hard. You gulp it down, looking up at him and taking the wine now.

Father Gojo looks down at you, white hair falling over a brow, finding your beautiful eyes are affecting him as much as your stance on your knees, his thumb finds your chin now, imagining shoving his cock between perfect lips. Surely, you are here to tempt him, to ruin him, you are sin itself, haunting his dreams, making him hard in the middle of church, right in his own service.

You look at it then, his cock under the cassock that’s becoming too tight, before licking your lip, eyes back up to his hungrily. You look like such a good girl, but your eyes tell another story, a story of wanting to get fucked hard, to be filled by him, wanting to have his cum all over your pretty face. He imagines that as the wine drips down your lips now.

Fuck he’s going to hell if he stays around you, surely even he has rules to uphold even if he certainly is God’s chosen. But… perhaps since he is God's chosen, it’s his duty to help a little sinful girl like you. And as you rise, holding his hand, and your breasts brush against his chest, you’re far too close, he vividly pictures yanking them out of that dress, tempting him to no end.

Of course you ask for confessional, and he’s dying at the thought of being so close to you, when all he thinks of is how good you look, how good you smell, and he is left to wonder, do you taste that good? Your pretty neck, your delicate collarbone, your pussy? Surely he should not think such things, but as he looks at you through the lattice of the confessional separating you both, he cannot stop his mind.

“Father Gojo… I fear my confession is most wicked.” Comes your breathy little voice, only serving to make Father Gojo’s thick length harden, picturing what your little moans must sound like when properly fucked.

“Go on, my pr- my child, you may tell me anything.” He says, coughing a bit, because he’d rather call you a pretty little slut, and he has no clue why the devil likes to try him so hard. It’s all your fault, truly. Pretty little thing.

“Okay… but…” You take a breath. “I have dreams of someone fucking me, someone I should not.” You say nervously, and watch him shift in his seat, you can smell his cologne so much in here, making you thirst more for him.

“It’s natural to have thoughts, my child.”

“No, Father Gojo… I’m playing with myself, thinking of him. Of… sucking him, or of him laying on top of me.” You hear Father Gojo making a choking sound, and you panic. “I’m so sorry! I…”

“Ahem, no, no… continue.” Father Gojo’s cock is straining, he can already feel precum sticking to his tip, picuring you touching your pussy, he bets it’s so pretty, bet it tastes so-

Sinful girl, aren’t you?

Surely that’s all this is, not… him wanting to sin! Father Satoru Gojo certainly is perfect, he’s God’s perfect creature, so if he wants this, it must be on you. Sin in a perfect little body with a perfect little face, and a voice that drives him to utter distraction. Surely, Father Gojo must try to save you.

“Father, I cannot stop thinking of him, he’s in all my dreams. What should my penance be, how many hail marys?”

Father Gojo has to stroke himself to adjust his huge, throbbing cock now, as he watches you through the lattice, biting your full lower lip, your head falling back, hair cascading. Hair he wants to pull as he fucks you from behind, making you arch your back to take more of his cock.

“I have to ask how you’re doing it… so that I can tell you your penance, so that I may try to save you.” He says, husky now, and you whimper softly, shifting on the bench, your pussy throbbing around nothing, picturing his cock filling you.

“How I do it, Father Gojo?”

“Yes, it’s… important to confess.”

“Well, I take my fingers, and I find my pussy with them, I roll them around my clit over and over, I get so wet that they slip- Father are you okay?” Satoru can’t stand it, he’s stroking his bare cock under his robes, resting his head against the wall, struggling not to cry out as he’s pumping.

“Ahem… indeed I am. So you finger your little pussy then?” At his words you’re a blushing mess, breaths coming more rapidly, your hands gripping the bench, dying for friction as you’re soaking your panties.

“Y-yes.”

“Do you slip your fingers in?”

“I… no! Um… no.”

“And you cum?”

“I… yes. I do cum. Imagining him.” You’re watching those robes rise and fall, then you know it, Father Gojo is stroking his cock right next to you.

“I see… I think I can help alleviate some of this, perhaps give you some guidance so that you do not afflict yourself so.” You want to touch yourself now, when you hear those breathy pants, your fingers clinging to the lattice.

“Yes, father, I need your guidance.” Cock, fingers, mouth… fuck you’re a full sinner, aren’t you!?

“Then come here, let us have our first attempt at saving you.”

Now you’re standing in front of him in the itty bitty room, face to face with Satoru Gojo, your Priest, and fuck if your nipples don’t tighten up, if your tummy isn’t clenching with desire. You’re nervously fiddling with your hands as he leans back, spreading his long legs as wide as they can in the tight quarters, his glittering blue eyes dilated as he licks his lips, making them glossy.

“You must show me how, and do not fret, sweet girl, it’s through god’s will of course, through me.” Father Gojo says, your breaths come faster as you slip up your sundress, and his eyes hungrily drink the sight of your bare thighs in. He leans forward, sliding those panties down, eyeing your glistening cunt now, his breath almost hitting it, making you jerk.

“Father… I cannot show you…”

“You can, I am here to help, have no fear.” He notices you’ve drenched your panties, a wet spot formed, sticky little strands of your arousal apparent as he pulls them down, hands touching the smooth skin of your thighs.

You put your hand on your pussy now, the other nervously holding up your dress, and you run your fingers in circles on your clit, crying out softly, as he lets out a low, guttural moan. You’re getting wetter as you play, as his large, sexy hands clench, the veins popping up out of the thin skin, and you’re trembling, imagining his long fingers working you instead.

Satoru is close to cumming as he watches your pretty face, your brows drawing together, your lips parted, eyes so dilated your pupils are taking over, just a thin ring of your iris left. Your lashes are lowered, and his hand stops yours now, as it’s playing with your soppy little cunt, you tremble before him.

“I see, I must help you, guide you. To get this… affliction taken care of. Yes?” You nod eagerly, then Father Gojo pulls you to his lap, and you’re straddling him, your hands sliding up to feel his strong shoulders under his robe, and he is touching your pussy instead, making you whimper. “Need me to save you, pretty little sinner?”

“Please save me. Please. Ah!” Satoru sinks two long fingers deep inside your eager little entrance, you gasp at it as he slips into your gummy walls, drippy and so tight. He’s paused, moaning and looking right into your eyes, you drown in his blue gaze, as your cunt drools down his hand. “Father Gojo… please…”

“Begging for it, are you? So tight, it’s so… have you had anything inside this perfect little pussy?” He huffs, feeling how you’re squeezing his fingers, then he hits some spot that makes you see stars, pumping up and down over and over. You cling to him, eyes fluttering shut. “Answer me, be a good girl for once, would you?”

Good girl for once.

There’s no hope for you.

“Nothing… no one… just you, Father Gojo. Mmm!” You’re covering your mouth as he keeps pumping, and he moans, dreaming of breaking you in all the ways he could, taking your innocence for himself. It’s surely what god is wanting, and who is he but god’s disciple himself? He thrusts those fingers knuckles deep, watching you fall apart over him.

“There, you’re loving this, fingers stretching your pussy, don’t you?” You nod weakly, gushing down his hand, you can hear the squishing wetness of your pussy as he now slides a thumb, rolling it over your clit.

“F-father Gojo!”

“Sinful girl.” He huffs, as you’ve buried your face against his neck, rocking against his hand, those long fingers fucking you so good it’s painful, moaning.

“Mmm! Father Gojo, I will… be good… for you…”

“Will you?” You nod weakly, as Satoru rolls your clit expertly, and you feel the pressure building, you’re panting, ready to combust. “I feel it, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

You’re nodding, hips grinding, now you’re soaking his robes, he’s picturing sliding his cock inside you, breaking you, until your sins are cleansed, and you’re picturing him taking you, defiling you in every way your hectic mind can picture. Both of you are about to cum, you’re not even touching Satoru though, you want to, fuck you want to.

“Close, m’close… p-please…” You’re begging for release, seeing stars as he works your now sloppy cunt.

“I've got you, you can let go, you're safe with me, let me see your sins so I can cleanse them.” He urges you on, bringing you higher and higher with those long, slick fingers.

“Father, it's... I'm gonna... mmm!” You're so close, soaking the sleeve of his robe now. And he's so ready to slide into your eager cunt, looking up at you behind snowy lashes.

“Show me how you sin, let me watch you cum, so I can... help you.” He whispers, and you fall apart then, pulsing around his fingers, and he groans as he watches you, pressing up so deep. You’re gushing so much arousal, he can smell your sweet scent, as you scream out into your little hand, shaking.

Satoru is now sliding his fingers out, you whine, wanting more, especially when he is sucking your juices off his fingers, making you gasp. His cheeks hollow, his eyes fluttering shut as he tastes you, your mouth drops open, breaths making you quicken, your heart pounding in your ears as you try to come down.

Your thighs are trembling over him, entire body lit up from cumming so hard, his snowy lashes cast shadows on his cheeks, before fluttering up, looking at you, your arousal coating his lips. “Oh my God.”

More sinning.

“You’re not being a very good girl.” He admonishes, but then his lips quirk up. “But, you taste too sweet to be bad. Or perhaps you yourself are sin.” Father Gojo whispers to you now, and you’re leaning closer, rolling your hips, making him groan, his hands gripping your little waist as your heat brushes against his cock. “Has it alleviated some of your… need, my child?”

He’s smirking at you, in a way no priest should! You sigh then, shaking your head. “No, Father, it’s only made it worse! You must help me more, I’m afraid now I’m thinking of sinning even more, and who I’ve been dreaming of.” You say then, it’s a whisper, as the room is hot from your breaths, smelling like sweet arousal.

Satoru blinks then, thin white brows going together, jaw clenching. “You’re thinking of fucking your own priest? That is a sin.”

“I know! It’s a terrible affliction. Oh Father, I’m going to hell.” You whisper, blinking back tears, still reeling from the aftershocks of cumming. Satoru arches his hips now, brushing his cock against your pussy, and you nearly scream out, head falling back, exposing your throat to him, and he pictures his hand wrapping a rosary around your neck, pulling tight.

You’ve dreamt of him too!? Surely this must be a sign.

A temptation.

But does he want to fight it? Your taste is all over his mouth now, as he feels your sexy little body against him, his hands brushing against your breasts, watching your nipples perk up. You look at him with intoxicated eyes, lips parted, your tiny hands clinging to his robes as you grind again, and he shudders at how fucking good it feels, your heat on him.

“I see… Well you must come to me tomorrow, and we will have to try harder, to save your soul.” He says huskily, you nod eagerly, as he helps you off him, his cock close to cumming, already twitching, he slides your soaked, ruined panties into his robes, you surely do not need them anymore.

“What if I have another dream father!”

“Do not touch yourself, I will help you when you come in, that’s so we can try to save you, yes?” You nod then, leaning close to his lips.

“Father, is it a sin to kiss your lips?”

“Not if you feel a calling, surely God wishes you to.” He murmurs, and you peck a sweet kiss on his lips, tasting yourself on him, before forcing yourself out of the cramped quarters, body on fire, leaving Satoru to finish stroking his cock, cumming as he shoves your panties against his face.

******

You’re dreaming of him again, of Father Gojo, this time his snowy white hair is brushing against your thighs, his tongue is lapping up all the dripping wetness, his big hands pressing into the plush of your thighs. You wake up throbbing, crying out, seeing how wet you are, as the ceiling fan whirls, failing to cool your overheated flesh. Father Gojo’s fingers made it worse, your affliction!

The next day you’re painfully turned on, pussy aching for more, you followed his instructions and did not touch yourself, instead you forced yourself to go back to sleep, now you’re in the nearly empty church, knocking at the door of Father Gojo’s office. You hear his deep voice speak.

“Come in.” You nervously walk in, you are wearing a shorter blue sundress today, and no panties. You know Father Gojo will see how sinful you are, but when you see his perfect face, and him wearing a thinner, lighter white robe, your pussy is already making your thighs sticky. “My child, lock that door, so we can have privacy… we would not want your confessions judged.”

“Yes, thank you Father.” You lock the door with a click, stepping to him, your heels clicking on the wooden floor of his room. He’s sitting in his chair, fingers steepled, studying your body carefully.

“Do you have any updates on your affliction, pretty girl?”

“Pretty girl…” You’re blushing worse now.

“I feel I must call you what the lord is telling me. Is that alright with you?” You nod nervously, standing before him, the desk separating you. “So how were your dreams last night?”

“They were of you again, Father Gojo. I’m so sorry!”

You cover your face in embarrassment, hearing the soft thumps of his shoes as he comes to you, taking you by your wrists, big hands enveloping the delicate wrists entirely. Your head tilts back to look at him, he’s so tall and big… you’re drinking in the sight of him, his black rosaries hanging across his broad chest.

“You must tell me these dreams, so I may help you. Perhaps they’re some sign that we must see.”

“You… you were licking me, between my thighs.” His nostrils flare slightly, those swirling blue eyes thirsty as he studies you, your thighs shift, his hands still tight on your wrists.

“Your slutty little pussy, I was licking it?” Your pussy is clenching, tummy coiling, at his nasty, sinful words, from such a pure man. You nod then. “I see, there’s no choice, we must see what enacting your dreams does. To try to save you.”

“Y-yes, father, I think so too.” You whisper, hands sliding up and down his chest, watching his Adam's apple bob under that white collar. “Does it ever get uncomfortable, Father Gojo?”

“At times. Take it off for me.” He turns and you undo the collar, when he turns back you see it, his strong neck, the muscles corded, you bite your lower lip, earning him pulling it from your teeth. “This dream, describe it, so I can help you.”

You’re a flustered mess, especially after his fingers yesterday, and all the dreams you’ve been having. You take several breaths now. “You were licking me.”

“More descriptive.” He murmurs now, sitting you up on his desk, shocking you, then he slides up your skirt and smirks, wicked priest that he is, blue eyes darting back up to yours. “No panties, your soul is so slutty.”

“I… well… Father Gojo!” Satoru’s rubbing your clit with his thumb, watching you writhe on his desk now, as he sits back in his black chair, scooting up, his breath right against you.

“You wanted this, to be bare in front of me, didn’t you pretty little sinner?”

“Y-yes, I told you, I’m going to hell, mmm!”

He’s kissing your thighs, your hands enwrap in his silky white hair now, his breaths higher and higher, eying your perfect, glistening pussy. He’s dying to feel you dripping down his tongue, dying to drink your sweet nectar flowing when he’s opening up the lips of your pussy, and you’re making those pretty sounds, you’re so pathetic already, he thinks.

“No, I will save you, don’t you believe in me, pretty? I alone speak for God, I’m the honored one.” His words along with his eyes, those glittery blue storms that see right through you, as if they know your every sin, wreck you now. He surely must be the honored one.

“You’ll save me, I know you will.” You whisper, caressing his cheek now, and he moans softly, just urging you on more.

“That’s a good girl. Now tell me, what did I do in this dream?”

“You licked me, here.” You touch your slit, and he slides his tongue up it now, making you gasp, his tongue is so hot and wet, you’re gushing just from that. Satoru moans, kissing right over your clit before swiping his tongue again. “Father!”

“Shh, lest they hear your sinful mouth.” He whispers, and you clench your teeth, nodding as you watch him, he is placing your feet on either arm of his chair. “And you did not play with yourself?”

“I swear I did not, Father Gojo! I listened. Please…” You arch your hips up, full pussy in his face, and Satoru begins to devour you now, spreading your lips and flicking his tongue on your little swollen clit over and over. You have to slap a hand over your mouth, his rosary is cool against your inner thigh as he works your pussy, just like your dream.

Satoru’s tongue is wicked, for such a holy man you think, and it does the most wicked things to you, no dream could prepare you, even his fingers had not. He sucks your clit into his hot open mouth, moaning as your juices coat his tongue, looking up at you as you cling to his hair with one hand, the other muffling your cry as you feel yourself begin to cum.

Soon you are cumming right on Father Gojo’s face, your thighs shaking on either side of his head, pussy pulsing around nothing, and he’s drinking you up, so lewd in the quiet church office. You’re jerking now, as he leans up, half his pretty face shining with your slick, making you flush at how much there was. Your hand eases down, now just gasping for breath as you look at him.

“And now, my child, how is this affliction?” He whispers, leaning up and laying atop you, pressing you into the wooden desk. You lean up, kissing him once more, earning his moan, tasting yourself all over him, he grabs you by the throat then, long fingers wrapping as he pulls back. “How hard do I have to work to save your slutty little soul, hmm?”

“I’m sorry, Father Gojo. It was so amazing… but I just want more, I fear I’m having more lustful thoughts of you now.” Your hand slides down now, cupping him where he’s thick and hard, and he squeezes your throat harder now, his thumb on your racing pulse.

“And what else is in that little brain of yours? What lewd fantasies of your priest, hmm?”

“Sucking your cock, that’s what.” He groans now, pulling you down and putting you to your knees. You look up eagerly, now Satoru is undressing, and you finally get glimpses of his body, of hard muscles and planes as he’s taking off his robes, now opening his pants for you, revealing a huge, thick cock. You gulp as you drink in the sight of it.

“And do you know what to do, how to serve me, my child?” He asks, you shake your head. “Yet you’ve dreamt it?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Then it’s surely meant to be, hmm? First, slide down your top.” You do as he says, and he moans as he sits back in his chair, gripping your bare breasts. “My God,  you’re made to ruin me. Come here, open your mouth.”

You do as he says, and Father Gojo now guides you by your hair, hair he wraps around his fist, guiding you down on his cock. His curved pink tip is leaking white pearly substance, which you tongue out, earning his grown, his head falling back. You suck him eagerly, swirling your tongue, as his eyes watch you, lidded and dazed, tasting his saltiness and sweetness eagerly.

“You’re far too good at this, are you sure you haven’t been sucking cock, like a sinful brat?” You pull back with a pop, saliva dripping down your lips.

“No, I only want to serve you, Father.”

“Mmm, you’re so precious.” He whispers, before shoving your mouth back on him, and you’re bobbing up and down as he pulls your hair, using it to glide you up and down his length. Your eyes water, your nose starts running as his cock is choking you, your pussy throbbing even more. “Fuck…”

“Father, did you cuss?” You ask, pulling back, with a shy little grin, earning Father Gojo’s smirk.

“I’m allowed to, it’s all God’s words. Now are you finally satisfied, or do we need to go further? Do I need to break your pretty little pussy?” He murmurs, his words like a drug, running his thumb across your lower lip. You nod then, weakly, and his lips part, eyes studying you. “Then ask me, on your knees so pretty, like you’re praying.” He puts your hands in prayer position, blue eyes lighting up.

“Please, break me, Father Gojo.” He pulls you up now, kissing you deeply, tongues so unpracticed and messy, you’ve never really even kissed, but now you feel him, filling you once more with those two fingers as he bends low.

“Turn around and bend over, sweet sinner.” You turn, and now Father Gojo has slid your dress down, leaving you in just your heels, his big hands gliding down every line and curve of your bare body. “I said bend over.”

He smacks you sharply on your backside, making you gasp then whine out, as he presses your upper back between your shoulder blades, your face against his desk. He then takes your hands, putting them behind your back and wrapping them with his black beaded rosary. You whine out at the sensation, he pulls it so tightly it’s digging in, shoving the cross in your palms.

“Hold on to that cross while I fuck your innocent little pussy. Feel it against your skin as I do.” He says, whispering in your ear. You nod, feeling the sharp cool silver digging in, as the beads dig into your bound wrists. “Good girl, spread those thighs.”

You do as he says, and then his tip is in, stretching you, and you’re shivering, breaths coming faster and faster. Satoru shoves his cock inside you, tearing at your little barrier. You cry out at the pain, and he pauses for a moment, moaning, letting you adjust. “H-hurts…”

“Just a moment of pain to fill you with my light.” He murmurs, sinking deeper, and your walls are fluttering around his cock, earning his groan. “You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? Did you want me to take it, your innocence?”

“I’ve w-wanted you, so long… played with… a long ah- time.” He moans now, sliding back out and in, you’re so wet and ready the pain eases quickly, as he takes you from behind now, pulling on your neck, pressing your bound hands firmer against your back, whispering in your ear.

“You sinned so long, playing with this pussy thinking of me?” You nod weakly, hiccuping on a cry as he’s pumping now, taking you over, stretching your tight cunt out so much, your skin burns, but you crave it.

You’re going to hell, surely.

But it seems worth it to be stretched by his cock so well.

“Y-yes… a long time. S-sorry Father…”

“Just Satoru when you cum all over my cock, hmm?” You nod weakly, then he fucks you harder now, thighs smacking your skin, his pelvis smacking your now sore ass cheeks, balls smacking your clit. “Ah, and you’re close already and your first time? You were made for this, weren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes, Satoru!” You scream out so loud he’s palming your mouth with his huge hand, taking over your face, shoving his cock in and rolling his hips, making you climax so hard you cannot see. You weakly drool out of your lips onto his hand, as he feels your velvety walls fluttering around him.

You are made for this, for his cock, to take him. Your sweet virgin pussy is getting so filled by Father Gojo’s huge cock, but you’re already taking him so well. Father Gojo knows then that your dreams and his must be for a better purpose, to fuck you and fill you with all of his light, surely. You’re taking him more and more, cumming so hard your cunt is drooling everywhere.

He lets your face go, looking at your fucked out expression, your mouth is wide open, that drool dangling out the corner, your eyes are rolled back, lashes fluttering, your ass arching up for more. You’re such a sinful creature, but he knows your innocence was made for just him, clearly. You would not have anyone else, he would surely see to it.

It’s God's calling.

You’re pounded and stuffed by his huge cock, your breasts bouncing with each thrust, ass jiggling with the force, then Satoru pulls your chin to face him, he’s so fuzzy, you keep shutting your eyes.

“Look at me, my child, now.” He whispers, and you open your eyes, staring into his weakly as his thrusts slow.

“Y-yes, Satoru…” He moans at the use of his name from your pretty lips.

“I’m saving you, through… mmm… God’s wisdom.”

“Thank you, thank you!” You’re trembling, he’s rolling his hips and that tip is dragging on your spot, you struggle to focus on his pretty face, the sun from the blinds filtering in behind his head, and then he looks like an angel. The cross is digging in so much your hand is bleeding just a bit, but you truly couldn’t care, his cock feels too good inside you.

“Do you want me to… fill you…” He’s crying out then, grabbing you so tightly you can’t breathe. “With God’s love… and light?”

“Please, fill me Father- ah!” Satoru starts pumping faster and faster, yanking on your rosary so hard it breaks as he begins to cum, the beads flinging and clattering all over the wooden floor, the cross still digging into your broken palm.

“Going to put… so much… light in you… fill you-” He moans loudly then, and you feel hot liquid pumping inside, bringing you to cum with him, as it coats your walls, hot and sticky. “Feel it? Feel me filling you with it?”

“I do! I do… Father Gojo… feel it.” You whine out, rolling your hips to milk him for every bit of his hot white ropes.

“Oh… Mmm…” He’s pumping more cum inside you now, but you’re so wet and still convulsing, so it’s dripping down his cock with your arousal. Satoru exhales, pulling out and then wiping you up, turning you gently, gulping as he kisses you once more. “You were sent here to destroy me.”

“Father, I’m afraid… I only want to do it more.” You whisper, he groans, cupping your face, as you bring up your hand to him, where the cross has left red marks on your palm, he traces it, the perfect symbol of the cross, with little blood drops streaking. You wince in pain.

“I see, it’s a sign we must continue.” He says, and you nod eagerly, as he holds your hand in his.

“We must, Father Gojo.”

*****

The next Sunday, you’re sitting in the very front for the sermon, watching as Father Gojo is licking a thumb and turning a page, his blue eyes darting to your thighs, today you’re wearing a pink summer dress. Father Gojo has stolen a pair of your panties, he thinks you don’t notice, but you do, so you decide not to wear any again, opening your legs for a moment.

Father Gojo gets a glimpse of your bare, glistening pussy right in that church, making his cock hard in front of a room full of hundreds of his followers. Luckily the brown stand in front of him covers up such evidence, as he looks over at your face when you cross your sexy legs, you smile up at him, blinking innocently.

But you’re not innocent, not anymore, are you? No, you’re the worst sinner he’s tried to save, and he thinks he’ll have to work harder to save you. And when you’re riding his cock in the confessional later that evening, and he’s biting on your breasts, you’re riding him so well, moans muffled in the tiny room, he’s not sure he can save you truly, you’re too full of sin.

Father Gojo enjoys your slutty soul and your soaking wet pussy on him far, far too much, especially filling you with his cum light.

Serving Father Gojo is perfectly fine, it's God's will after all 🙏 Nanami and Geto drabbles coming some time too <3 Reblog if you're a sinner <3

[yeppeun-riaa]

What do you think their type of girl is: ran, rindou, sanzu and kakucho

TR BOYS AND THEIR TYPE

MDNI 18+

Not proofread. Idk why rans own is the shortest because hes my fav😫, I got carried away with the rest😭,hope you enjoy tho, thank you for the ask💕!

⋆RAN

Ran is into brats! women that are stubborn, women that have an attitude that will be the death of them, women that are way to dramatic and clingy, overall just downright bratty, he'd love to put them in their place when they decide to bitch out on him, he's sadistic and loves to watch them cry while he punishes them.

'You really thought you'd get away after pulling that shit? Then fucking think again, whore, you should be glad I'm putting that dirty mouth of yours to good use' he'd say through gritted teeth while using your mouth th get himself off.

ALSO. He likes when she plays hard to get, he always up for a challenge. I think he'd also be into very studious girs, like student council, top of all her classes type shit because it boosts his ego, and melts his heart, knowing that someone so uptight would crumble within mere seconds under his touch.

⋆RINDOU

He honestly just loves women, he really isn't that picky when it comes to his type but he would fall 10× harder for a girl if she was clingy and really into pda. You might disagree but I think rindou is a moderate fan of pda😭 he just loves all the attention he'd get.... The fact that his girlfriend would always want to hold hands or want him to have his anywhere on her body, a girl that just needs him would ignite a fire in him, he may not show it but he enjoys being wanted...

Your mouth hung agape and you saw stars as rindou thrusted into you at an inhumane pace, all while bending you almost painfully over the sink. "Fuck—rin!" You cried as his hand came down on your ass, you looked like a mess as you locked gaze with yourself in the mirror, tears streaming down your face, makeup all ruined while rindou pounded into you from behind. "You just can't keep your hands to yourself huh?" He says punctuating each word with a slap to your behind. "Don't fucking cry, you wanted this and now you'll take everything I give you and thank me after" yeah... when you came back to the others it was pretty obvious what went down.

⋆SANZU

He likes himself a bimbo, a woman that's that kind, caring, innocent and downright stupid, a girl that's book smart, but stupid in anything else. The type dumb of girl that walks around in tight clothes and thinks the men staring at her being friendly, of course he gets annoyed when she fails to realize that someone is flirting with her, or when she ask the most dumb question and won't stop fucking talking, but it's okaayyy, he loves to shut her up and teach her a lesson!!

"W-wait haru! too much" you'd yelp from your spot on the bed, trying to break free from your restraints to tug him away from your aching pussy. He smirks and runs his tongue up your slit, sticking one more finger into your tight littel hole and sucking harshly on your clit, "you're a fucking whore, if i didn't know any better I'd think you did that on purpose because you wanted a punishment" he spat harshly at you, you lost count of how many times you came, all you were sure of was that he needed to stop because it was all too much. "Baby I'm sorry! I di-didn't know he was flirting", he scoffs slapping your cunt making tears form on your waterline, "how could you not know? He was all up in your fucking face, talking about he could be better to you than me, are you dumb, or just dumb." It was a statement, not a question and you mourned seeing him sit up to undo his pants, it was gonna be a long fucking night.

⋆KAKUCHO

Kakucho is another one that just loves women♡ he's smitten for women that are confident, it drives him crazy (in a good way) when a girl is passionate and radiates good energy. That popular girl that everyone knows and loves, the girl that every guy wants, the girl that everyone would throw hands for if she ever cried. He wants that type of girl so he can be there for her, and see the side of her no one else gets to. Even the sad side that she never shows, he'll take great pride that he was able to break down her walls and be the only one too see her In that different night. He want to be the one that makes the false happiness, that no one else could detect, real.

"Shh, it's okay" he'd whisper sweet nothings I to your ear at night while he made love to you. Some nights rough, others slow and sensual, it all depended on how you felt, and right now you were sad, all you wanted was the him to love on you, melt all the sadness away. And that's exactly what he would do.

[hurthermore]

sfw or nsfw!

THE BIMBO AND ALASTOR IS ADORABLE, this leads me into my ask...

metalhead!bimbo!reader or goth!bimbo!reader with al or another hazbin boy. poor girl is literally so dumb but looks fucking cool as shit. dyed hair, tattoos, piercings, cool outfits and makeup but thats.. like.. all shes good for, is being sexy and dumb.

🙏 raaa your works are so lovely !

- 🦇

»»------► 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 - 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 (18+)

▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 (18+) 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 ▻ 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹 (18+)

Pairing: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Word Count: 𝟸.𝟹𝚔

Warnings: 𝙵/𝙼 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚌𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕, 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚐𝚢, 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠

A/N: 𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙱𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚘 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝; 𝙸 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚃.𝚃 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚒𝚝!

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!

Ever since your deal with Alastor, you had asked him for something new everyday.

“Ya’ know, I’ve always wanted some piercings. Will you pay for it, Alastor? Pleaseeee?” 

“Let’s get some food!”

“I want this.”

“I always wanted some tattoos too, ya’ know?”

Even without the deal, you knew that Alastor would probably gift you all these things anyway; he seemed to always have a soft spot for you, and after he fucked you, forced you a deal to make you unequivocally his, and quite literally told you that you were his partner from now on, you knew you could get him to do pretty much anything you wanted. 

And because of the possibilities of things that you could now attain from Alastor, you had found yourself falling in love with multiple types of styles, and currently, you were quite fixated on the gothic style. Still, you kept your clothing as revealing as possible; it was just more comfortable for you to have little clothing on, and you weren’t about to change that for anyone. Even if Alastor had some comments on how little you wore sometimes.

“Darling, I don’t usually mind the things you wear, but your nipples are quite literally hanging out. So take it off.”

But, you weren’t complaining. Sure, Alastor wasn’t your usual type, and he could be bossy, telling you that some items of clothing were just too revealing, but the powerful ambience that he emitted was fucking sexy; and he had a big cock. And despite him being an old ass cunt compared to you, he treated you in ways that no man had ever treated you; it was refreshing. 

Even now, he was treating you like a gentleman as he made you latch onto his arm whilst you both walked around the city of hell. You had asked him to take you shopping, again. And of course, he dropped what he was doing to escort you around. Wearing a latex skin tight black dress, you made sure to press up extra hard against your boyfriend’s arm; relishing in how hard it was for him to keep himself composed. Ever since your deal with Alastor, you always waited on him to initiate any type of touch as you were aware of his dislike for others approaching him, and you dreaded him rejecting you. So you relished in every touch you could get from him when he let you latch onto his arms whenever he escorted you anywhere.

“Ah!” You yelped as you left Alastor’s side and ran toward a shop window; pressing your whole body against it as you gazed starstruck at a cute, black leathered chained choker. “Al!” You whined his name as he stood behind you. “I want this, get it me? Pretty please?” You sang as you clamped your hands together.

“Go fit it on then, darling.” You could only sing in delight as you jumped into the store, grabbing the object of your desires with Alastor following closely behind you. 

“Al, can you help me?” You asked with a pout as you couldn’t quite get the latch to close around the choker. Alastor only walked up behind you before he softly held the accessory for you, finally latching it on tight around the circumference of your neck.

As you looked in the mirror to see how you looked with it on, you were distracted as Alastor breathed down your neck. Looking up, you flinched when you felt his drool land on your shoulder. “You know darling.” He whispered into your ear as he gripped his claws against the skin of your shoulder. “You’ve been asking for so much recently, and you’ve barely given me a kiss.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried to contemplate what on earth he was getting at. Sure, ever since Alastor and you had sex, you hadn’t really done anything like that since. But it was mainly because you knew he recoiled away from anyone else initiating any type of touch with him; you had been surprised when he had allowed you to drag him into that seat and sit on his lap. All in all, you were waiting on him to initiate. “I didn’t think you would appreciate me just kissing you whenever I wanted… I’ve been waiting on you to make a move.” You whispered, guilt consuming your system. “Sorry.”

He only let his tongue leave the contents of his mouth, pressing it against your choker attired neck before he responded to you. “Darling, you have my permission to touch me whenever you please unless I say so, do you understand?” You could only shiver with a nod as he growled his sentence into your neck. “Still, you’ve been quite a greedy little darling recently, it’s only fair you give me something in return, correct?” He nipped into your shoulder as you rubbed your thighs together.

Oh god, how was this man so hot?

Suddenly, you felt Alastor push you forward with a force you weren’t expecting from him. You stretched your hands out as you braced for impact against a rack of clothes until you fell face first into red silk sheets that were all too familiar to you. Picking your head up, you turned around as you took in the contents of the room.

It was the same room Alastor had fucked you in.

Wait.

That fucker pushed you.

Sitting up, you made your way to the edge of the bed, standing up as Alastor had yet to appear in the room, and you were ready to shout at him for pushing you like that. But as soon as you stood, you felt familiar clawed hands grip into your hips as they dragged you into their owner's lap, your back flushed against their chest. 

Looking back to see your boyfriend’s widened grin, all thoughts of ripping him a new one vanished as he grabbed the back of your choker, causing you to wince in pleasure. His other hand flicked to caress the thick of your thigh as he teased the outline of your lingerie. Your body became hot and flustered instantly. You couldn’t help but hum as you instinctively began to grind yourself into his lap.

“I really do like this dress on you, darling. But I’m not below ripping it into shreds; so take it off. Now.” He groaned into your ear as you kept moving against him. Despite how hot the prospect was of Alastor tearing your clothes off, this dress was limited edition and designer. There was no chance in hell you’d let him rip this one. 

Maybe you could wear something more replaceable tomorrow and see if he’ll rip that off you instead.

“There’s a zip at the back…” You moaned out softly before you felt his hand leave the hold he had on your choker as he was eager to undress you. Leaving you feeling somewhat frustrated as his other hand left your thigh, his fingers slipped the zip downwards, allowing it to naturally fall down to your hips, revealing your bare chest to him before he forced the piece of clothing completely off your body.

His hand returned to your thigh before you felt his thick and heavy cock smack against the inner of your thighs. Looking down, you groaned as his tip was big and so fucking red. You could swear it was pulsing. Clamping your femurs together, you held his phallic organ between your thighs, forcing the Radio Demon behind you to groan.

You leaned your head back onto Alastor’s shoulder before you began thrusting your hips up and down, rubbing your boyfriend’s cock between the plush of your thighs in the process. You could feel the top of his cock slide against the wetness of your clothed cunt as you continued your ministrations.

“Fuck.” You heard Alastor groan as he lifted his own hips up to fuck his cock within the confines of your plush and soft legs, covering his sex in your natural lubricate; making everything feel even more intense. You never thought a thigh fuck could feel so good for you, but the way his sex slid against your folds, hitting your clit everytime he thrusted forward, it made you tremble. But as the pleasure began to build, Alastor spoke, barely whispering against your ear.

“Be a good girl and stand up.”

Despite wanting to continue, you obeyed him. Giving him a few more thrusts before you released his sex, you stood up, and it was then you realised you were still wearing your heeled combat boots. Alastor’s hands removed the lingerie that covered your core, only to grip your hips still; forcing you to stay facing away from him. You couldn’t even ask him what he was doing before he forced you back down, ultimately pushing his cock into you. Letting out a loud cried moan, you couldn’t believe he had just stuffed himself into you like that; forcing you to take his fat cock, filling you to the brim and more. 

“Bounce, darling.” 

You couldn’t help but pant as his cock intruded your walls; he had hardly even prepped you, yet his cock slid in as if it was attuned to your cunt and yours alone. Moaning, you began to repeatedly lift yourself off his lap, only to harshly bounce back into it. The sound of your skin slapping against his clothed lap along with your whimpered cries of his name surrounded the room. Your whimpers choked back as Alastor gripped the back of your choker, pulling your back to flush against his clothed chest again.

Was he really fucking you in his suit?

Your thoughts were quick to leave your mind as he continued to help you bounce onto his lap. Although with the new position he had put you in, the bounces weren’t as high, but his cock went so much deeper. It was immense; how he filled you up perfectly, hitting every crevice that needed to be hit to make you go even more dumb than you already were. 

“You were just made for me, weren’t you, darling?” 

Why the fuck did he have to be so sexy? It was driving you mad. You could only mumble incoherently as you tried to agree with his statement, but his cock only left you in a babbling mess. His smile only tightened as he chuckled at you almost condescendingly as you failed to formulate a single word.

Recoiling in pleasure, you gasped as something cold and slimy wrapped around your clit. Looked down, you could only cry out sensually as you watched his shadow’s mouth sucking your pulsing clitoris. Fuck. Was this technically a threeway now? You didn’t know, but it made you want to cum instantly. You could only thrust your core into his shadows face as Alastor himself fucked your cunt, chasing your own high as one of your hands gripped the head of his shadow, whilst your other one flung itself upwards to grab onto one of Alastors antlers.

Moan after moan, you couldn’t stop crying out in pleasure as Alastor stimulated you in multiple ways. You could feel yourself reaching your high as you squished his shadow’s head between your thighs, thrusting harder and harder against the greedy ministrations he gave your clit. As you felt your orgasm approaching, Alastor pushed you again. Only this time, you were pushed on top of his shadow, forcing his cock to leave you and you inevitably sitting on his shadow's face. 

You sobbed as the shadow continued to lick you, but you felt so fucking empty. To make up for the loss of contact, you began grinding against his shadow before you felt Alastor’s palms rest against your shoulders. Looking up, you could see his eyes blown wide, drool cascading down his lips, and his skin flushed red. He gave you a sinister grin before he forced your entire weight and his to press down against his shadow’s face. 

Crying out, you could feel your tongue pant out of your mouth as the entire situation was too fucking hot. And when Alastor let go of you, his shadow’s hands gripped your thighs still, forcing you to keep your weight against its face. You could only groan as Alastor forced you to lean forward before he slid his heavy sex back into your cunt.

It was too much; too much and too fucking hot. Alastor bending you over his shadow that was sucking the life out of your clit as he fucked into you hard like a rabid man. You swear you were seeing stars, and you could only scream as your thighs shook before your core suddenly came all over his shadow. Hard. Riding through your orgasm with Alastor’s name screaming from your tongue, he only fucked you harder; as if your orgasm had began the starting of his own.

Suddenly, his shadow disappeared, and Alastor gripped your choker again before slamming your face into the floor and forcing your ass in the air as he fucked you at a pace you didn’t think was possible before he stilled into you one last time. You could feel his cock throbbing as his cum squirted into your cunt, causing you to moan along with Alastor’s grunts. After his orgasm ceased, Alastor pulled away from you as he watched his cum slowly leak from your core.

“Next time you want something from me, you’ll have to give me something in return.” He tightened the grip your choker had around your neck. You let out a choked gasp as his other hand began to knead your overstimulated clit again and his fingers pushed his cum back into you. “It can be a kiss, or you can let me cum in this perfect cunt of yours again. Either way, you’re not going to be getting anything for nothing anymore.”

If he was going to fuck you like this every time you wanted something, then you were only going to start asking him for more stuff.

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