How I Feel Bringing Up My New Comfort Character To My Friends

how i feel bringing up my new comfort character to my friends

camilo, looking at a list: do we really need the gallon of beer?

y/n: no, no, I need the beer. YOU need to put your pants on

camilo, whining: but life is so free without them!

y/n, glaring: pants. on. now!

pepa: y/n, we don’t talk about bruno here.

y/n: oh you mean camilo’s hot tío lmao

camilo: WHAT.

my baby's bd is on DEC 28❤️ aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh ✨ I'm pinning this on my calendar rn

OMFG , CAMILO'S BDAY IS ON DEC 28!!!

December baby ❤️❤️❤️

Busy Schedule || Camilo prompt

Tw: Dirty talk (brief), Markings, Mentions of getting caught

Characters: Camilo, Dolores (brief)

A.n: Camilo is 17 years old in this prompt.

The strong smell of daffodils and chamomile tea filled your lungs as you engulfed yourself in your boyfriend's warmth, kissing on his neck as he straddled you, marking at his collarbone whilst the erection in his pants grew.

You two have been like this for around 30 minutes, complementing each other as you gave occasional kisses. Your red lipstick stains messing up his cheek and neck with obvious hickey spots. But he'll think about how to hide them later; What was more important was you.

"I missed you" you whispered as you teased his cock. Your panties becoming more damp the more you played with him as he moaned quietly in your neck, fearing his sister might hear your little love session.

"I know, Honestly I've been trying to make time but the villagers n stuff got my schedule packed." He replied, kneeling on the bed as he unzipped his pants, not forgetting to snag the condom you had in your grasp.

"Just remember to tell me if you're busy. You know how sad I get when I come over and you're not here :,(" "Promise"

He whispered as he took off your panties, throwing them to the side as he held his hands in yours, Pushing his cock in slowly as he whispered.

"But right now..... I wanna forget my name while I'm moaning yours"

©2022 cherub-corre, All rights reserved

guys my age DRABBLE "my whore" folder"

Bruno Madrigal x Fem Reader

NSFW CONTENT! MINORS DNI!!! 18+!!!!!! HARD KINK!!!!!!!

cw/tw: bimbo reader, incel bruno, dom bruno, sub reader, masturbation, various BDSM/kink scenarios, blackmail mention, incel bruno being an emotionally repressed asshole, what else is new?

a/n: yall..... well, yall did it. here I am. unable to resist you all.

buy me a ko-fi?

He's on his couch, alone, in absolute, complete, utter silence.

His TV is silent, dark, he didn't bother turning it on. He also didn't bother wearing pants, only in his boxers and a stained wifebeater. He doesn't even want to think about how badly he reeks.

That... pathetic whore has been busy. He scoffs. Busy. What the fuck can this brainless thing be busy with, huh? On and off photoshoots, modeling, showing her body off to the camera, he hates it. Hates every second of it.

So he makes her life as hard as possible, usually. He leaves as many hickeys, bruises and marks upon her body, as he can, so she's embarrassed when her makeup artist tries to hide them, thick, purple blotches upon her skin, which even makeup can't hide.

And he's sure the makeup artist thinks it's from a boyfriend. Pfft, boyfriend. Bruno stares at the ceiling with a small, amused smile. As if. She'd never get a boyfriend. She's far too dumb for that. She's far too brainless for that.

What would she even need a boyfriend for, when she has him, her bestest friend?

And even if that thought doesn't feel as comfortable, any longer, even if those two words leave a bitter, sour, taste in his mouth, even if they feel sharp and pointy against his teeth, he says them, over and over again.

Fuck it.

There's nothing new on discord. There's nothing new on reddit. There's just nothing new, it's the same old bullshit, the same old messages, the same old memes. They're all the same.

Bruno can't believe he's saying this but.... he's bored. So bored. There aren't any new plays or scripts to write. He could drive down to the parlor and just hang around there. But he's too lazy to move.

By sheer accident, his finger slips, lands on the gallery icon. And he feels a jolt of annoyance, but then he's calm again. He hasn't looked through his camera roll for a long, long while. It's not the worst possible thing to kill time with.

In his Camera folder, there are barely any pictures. Like two, or three blurry pictures of his rats, or their cage. Nothing more. There are two more folders, screenshots and downloads, but those folders are almost completely filled with pictures of sketches for his tattoos, of client's inspo pictures, or some random IT shit, nothing interesting, really. Damn, does he really only have like two, three folders on his phone? Really?

Suddenly his body grows warm.

Well, there is... one more.

Hidden under a special wall of protection, coded to literally self destruct if someone enters the wrong password three times. That wouldn't ever happen to him, but... just in case.

Hey, he just wants to protect what's his, okay? Fucking sue him.

Bruno quickly types his way through the protection, enters countless passwords, before finally, finally, a couple hundred of pictures appear on his screen.

His eyes narrow, a cruel smile blooming upon his lips.

Oh, gorgeous. Blackmail material. Nothing more, nothing less.

He scrolls down to the very first picture he took of her. Back when they had only started becoming... very, very good friends. In the dressing rooms, when she stood on her knees in front of him, all while he filled her mouth up with his seed.

A white hot jolt of arousal rushes down his spine.

He clicks onto the pic, holds her gaze with his, as she looks up at him with her pretty, brainless eyes, all while her tongue is stuck out, his cock resting upon her bottom lip.

Blood rushes down to his groin, and Bruno lets out a scoff.

She should know better than to let him take pictures of her.... But... here they are. Nearly 290 pictures in this folder, which he could use anytime he'd like to ruin her life. But, alas, he keeps them for himself. For no particular reason at all.

His hand travels down his body on its own, wraps around his half hard cock as he swipes towards the next one.

Oh, right. Pictures he took of her, when she passed out upon his cock.

Bruno smiles to himself. Ah yes. Good times. Her falsies fell off and he found so, so much pleasure in spitting in her face to "glue" them back onto her cheeks...

The next picture is of her, when he was choking her with a belt he found on the floor, while simultaneously choking her on his cock, the thick, bulbous head of his member lodged deep, deep within her throat.

There are a few pictures he took up her skirt, or of her undressing, or of her sitting under his desk, with her nose buried in his stained boxers, as he forced her to "breathe him". He made her lick his balls afterwards, he recalls. An apology for looking so stupid.

His thumb furiously swipes, as his hand lazily moves up and down his member, rock hard and leaking.

This is a picture he took of her when she blew him behind a gas station. He forced her to wear a bra two sizes too small that day, that's why her face looked extremely stupid.

His cock jerks in his palm at the next picture.

Her, licking a Popsicle he held out for her. A colorful explosion upon her tongue, as she looked up at him through her falsies.

Fuck....

His hand speeds up, slightly, and Bruno licks his dry lips.

This is a picture he took of her warming his cock with her mouth. And this is a picture he took of her, after he nearly drowned her. He filled the entire sink with water, and then held her head underwater, just to watch her struggle.

He did buy her a cute dress afterwards, he thinks, and rolls his eyes.

Ugh, whatever, next picture....

Her face buried underneath his armpit. He had been down at the parlor all day, tattooing, and the fan had just stopped working, out of nowhere. He reeked of sweat by the end of the day, wearing what used to be a shirt, but he ripped the sleeves off, so it was tattered and torn, and Hernando's wife, Maria, rolled her eyes each and every time she saw him wear that thing.

So of course he crashed by his whore's place, just to make her lick his armpits clean. And then he came on her pillow, threatening to literally bury her underground, if she doesn't sleep upon the mess.

She sent him a picture in the morning. Her face caked in his come. Because apparently she went to sleep the moment he left, rubbed her face in his sperm.

His cock jerks in his palm and Bruno shifts. Oh fuck....

The pictures are a blur as he swipes and swipes and swipes, barely focusing on all the different times he's humiliated and degraded her.

But then he's caught off guard.

There's a picture of her sleeping on his couch. Soft and gentle and so, so beautiful.

Yes, beautiful.

He leaks against his fingers as he stares onto the picture.

Swipes to the next, but it's even... worse.

Because it's not degrading. Not... humiliating at all. It's her, smiling up at him, from his lap.

When did he even take the picture?

His fist moves faster, he can barely breathe as he swipes onto the next one.

Her, gently kissing the tip of his cock.

Her, sleeping in his bed.

Her, laughing at the sign of a cafe.

Her, cuddled up to him, throwing a peace sign, while he looks mildly annoyed at the camera.

Her, playing with his rats.

Her, kissing Arepa on his fluffy little head.

Her, peppering his thighs in kiss marks, staining his skin with pink lipstick.

Bruno comes with a strangled moan.

Spills into his palm, spills against the fabric of his boxers, against his fingers. It's messy and it's hot, and he can barely breathe. Fuck... He's nearly suffocating, but he almost feels as satisfied as when she sucks his cock.

Almost.

He lets out a breathy giggle, and only then, does he notices, that the door is open. That someone's watching him.

There's a familiar jingle of charms upon a bedazzled phone.

"Beeb..?"

He barely turns his head, glancing up at the whore in the doorway, as she shifts upon her huge heels. He offers her a cruel grin as he lifts his hand, still sticky with his come.

She giggles, she kicks her shoes off, slowly walks towards the couch, not bothering to close the door behind herself.

First, Bruno freezes.

Then... he chokes.

And then he nearly falls off the couch, when he notes the huge bouquet of pink roses she's holding within her arms.

To be continued....