#crybaby!reader

masterlist here

c/w: overstimulation, fingering, use of vibrator, daddy kink, squirting, subspace word count: 500+

Your were spent, your body entirely limp where you lay between Hiromi’s parted legs, your bare back flush with his chest. You’d lost track of how many times he’d made you cum, you were unsure of how long it’d been going, it felt like hours and maybe it had been. 

Hiromi had your shaking legs slung over his arms, holding them open as he continued to press the pink vibrator against your swollen clit, the fingers of his other hand buried knuckle deep in your ruined cunt. “Taking it so well,” he hummed, laying open mouthed kisses on your shoulder, “going to cum for me again, princess?”

The only response you could muster up was a sluggish nod to which he tutted, “Come on, try and use your big girl words for daddy.” But you only whined, feeling your muscles tighten as another orgasm somehow built in your stomach. “Okay, how about you just tell daddy how you’re feeling. Are you feeling good or feeling bad?” 

“Good,” you mumbled between heavy breaths. Your toes curling and your eyes falling shut as he turned the vibrator up to its highest speed. 

“Such a good girl,” he praised, “you going to cum for daddy again, princess?” 

You whined, “Can’t,” despite the way your cunt was clenching tightly around Hiromi’s fingers, an obvious sign of your quickly approaching climax. 

“Yes, you can,” his voice was gentle and encouraging, “you can cum one more time for daddy, can’t you, sweet girl?

You let out a cry, “Feels all weird.” There was more pressure building in your stomach than there normally was. You writhed in his hold as he only hummed in acknowledgement, pressing the vibrator down onto your clit harder, his fingers curling to hit that gummy spot inside of you. Your writhing suddenly halted, your body going still as your orgasm washed over your tired body. 

When you finally came to, you noticed that the vibrator had been removed from your puffy clit, Hiromi’s fingers no longer inside of you. “There she is,” he cooed as he took in the sight of you, his eyes moving back and forth between the soaked sheets beneath you and your glassy eyes, “look at the mess you made, princess.” 

You followed his gaze to the ruined sheets beneath the two of you, “That was me?” Your voice was tinged with confusion, not understanding what had happened. 

“Mhm, you squirted, baby.” Hiromi smiled proudly. 

“Oh,” you mumbled, your face going bright red with embarrassment, “I’m sorry. Is that bad, daddy?”

“Not at all, my love.” His voice was lined with something you couldn’t quite place, “In fact, I want you to do that again.” Your eyes went wide, and you slammed your legs shut as if to protect yourself. 

“Not now, silly girl.” He laughed under his breath, pausing to look into your clouded over eyes, “But when your head doesn’t feel fuzzy anymore, you’re going to that for daddy again. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You swallowed thickly, your breathing instantly picking up at the thought of it as you nodded. 

“Good girl,” he hummed, one of his hands now running through your hair, his fingers combing out any knots, “Now let’s get you rested up. Want to make you do that again as soon as I can.” 

they’re two peas in a pod. sensitive, thoughtful, and always fucking horny.

himbo! choso and crybaby! reader who were quite literally made for each other. when you cry, choso’s eyes well up with tears because he feels for his pretty baby.

crybaby! reader who knew she had to get her hands on choso before anyone else could. she made it her point to be the most outgoing and polite she could be.

himbo! choso who didn’t even notice! crybaby’s advances. he thought her big eyes and lingering touches were just apart of her personality and charm.

crybaby! reader who had himbo! choso wrapped around her finger sooner than later. he’s always sitting on his heels waiting on your next move. he never does anything if he even thinks you’ll dissaprove of.

himbo! choso who is sometimes oblivious of crybaby! readers’s advances. when she slowly kisses along his neck and rubs his thigh, he thinks it’s another silly way his girlfriend likes to play.

himbo! choso who cannot keep up with crybaby’s libido. always crying out; “‘s too much!” or “n’more! too sensitive!” but you don’t care!

himbo! choso who’s instagram posts only consists of pictures of you. or you and him together. he doesn’t even look at other girls, nor does he really care.

crybaby! reader who hates when choso has to leave for work or a small get together between his friends, your lip jutting out and eyes welling with tears. choso coos at your sad face, pushing you onto the couch and peppering your face with kisses and wiping away your tears.

the second simon’s out of earshot, off to the bar to get another round for the group, johnny’s grabbing you by the face, squishing the fat of your cheeks together, and bullying his way into your bubble, although there was minimal space between you two to begin with. it isn’t cruel, necessarily, but he has that look on his face that he always gets when you’ve pushed your luck. his brows pinched, eyes stormy, lips twisted into a frown. that alone has your lip quivering. you don’t like upsetting him, he knows you don’t.

just like he knows you don’t mean to act out. you’re a sweetheart, the sweetest thing there ever was, you simply get overwhelmed, grouchy, sometimes, and that’s fine. everyone does. he couldn’t hold it against you, but he can’t let bad behavior go ignored either—it’s best to nip it in the bud before it festers, before it gets worse and he’s forced to do something about it.

“what’s gotten into you?” he demands, soft but firm. he doesn’t raise his voice, his intention isn’t to humiliate you, after all. he just wants to know what the hell’s got you pouting and back-chatting like you don’t know any better. you do, he’s made sure of it. “why’re you actin’ like a fuckin’ brat?”

“i’m not a brat!” you hate that word. you hate the insinuation that you could ever be anything but good. under different circumstances, he’d have laughed at the pitiful hiccup in your voice.

he squeezes your cheeks a little harder, scolding you for the outburst, and ducks his chin so you’ll look at him, instead of the folks gathered in the pub. “i know you’re not, baby, so why are you acting like one?”

you don’t answer right away, which would usually be an offense itself, but he can tell that you’re not intending to be petulant. you’re sorting through your frustration, trying to find something that feels right, like he’s taught you. he’d rather you think before you speak, in times such as these. it’ll save you both some trouble in the long run.

“you wanna go home? is that it?” he offers, when your silence lingers. he doesn’t mind leaving early if it means you’ll feel better, to hell with the others, but you have to tell him that. regrettably, mind-reading is beyond his capabilities.

you shake your head, sniffling hard, tugging anxiously at your fingers as you muster up the courage to admit, “you’re not paying attention to me,” he almost chides you for mumbling, words all jumbled, nearly incoherent. “you asked me t’come with you, but you’ve been ignoring me all night,”

his heart aches, expression softening into something contrite. maybe he’s been distracted, too enthralled with kyle’s stories about the man he’s seeing and price’s idle chatter about their most recent operation. it’s been known to happen, from time to time, he’s only human, when all’s said and done. still, he never intended to disclude you—that’s the last thing he wants.

johnny loves when you join him and the team on their weekly outings, loves having you cling to him, listening to you giggle at simon’s awful jokes, and talk self-care with kyle. nothing thrills him more than when his worlds collide.

“c’mere, c’mere,” he releases your cheeks to grab your scruff instead, pulling you close, so he can kiss your forehead and corral you against his chest. “m’sorry, bon, hm? i didn’t mean to, i promise.”

you nod, wrapping yourself around him, like you want to fuse yourself to him. he’d let you. “didn’t mean to be bad,” you mumble, muffled by his shirt, but genuine nonetheless.

“you’re not bad, baby. we just gotta remember to use our words, aye? i dunno what you’re feeling if you don’t tell me.” he withdraws enough that he can wipe the few, stray tears from your cheeks, before kissing you again, on the tip of your nose this time, making you giggle gently. he smiles in turn.

such a fucking sweetheart, you are, albeit a bit of a crybaby. he would not have you any other way.

“you roll those fuckin’ eyes at me again, though, and you’re in for it, you hear me?”

“i hear you,”

mira’s 1k special !

nsfw links under the cut

cw ; cnc , fauxcest , roughness , etc

stalker!rafe x crybaby!reader

Obsessed

Tw: heavy gore, (obviously) stalking

he doesn’t think of it as wrong.

if he did, he probably wouldn’t still be there—standing across the street, partially hidden by the dark line of trees, eyes fixed on the warm glow pouring from her kitchen window like it belonged to him.

but it doesn’t feel wrong.

it feels quiet. steady. like something that’s already settled in his chest and decided to stay.

rafe leans back against the rough bark, arms loose at his sides, gaze unmoving as she moves around inside, completely unaware. barefoot, he notices first. soft steps against the tile, careful, almost hesitant. the thin fabric of her nightgown brushes against her thighs when she reaches up into the cabinet, stretching just slightly, and his eyes follow without shame—just focus. attention.

“i love her,” he says under his breath, like he’s testing the sound of it.

it doesn’t feel new.

inside, she’s baking. he can tell from the way she keeps checking something on the counter, glancing between the paper and the bowl like she doesn’t trust herself to get it right. there’s flour on the edge of the counter, a little dusting on her fingers. when she tries to scoop more, it spills. soft, sudden, blooming into the air.

she freezes.

that’s the part that gets him.

her shoulders go still. her head dips slightly, like she’s bracing for something that isn’t even there. and then her eyes—he can’t see them clearly from here, but he knows—he knows they’re starting to gloss over.

like she might cry over something that small.

rafe’s jaw tightens.

“don’t,” he murmurs, too quiet to carry. “it’s nothing. you’re fine.”

she blinks a few times, quick, like she’s trying to stop it. sniffles once, wiping her hands on a towel before carefully cleaning up the mess. slow. deliberate. like if she just takes it one step at a time, she won’t fall apart.

he watches all of it.

the way she tucks her hair behind her ear. the way she double-checks the recipe. the hesitation before she finally slides the tray into the oven.

she looks like she’s always on the edge of something.

and no one’s there.

that part sits wrong with him.

“should’ve helped you,” he mutters, almost to himself. “that day.”

he remembers it too clearly; her on the front steps, arms full of grocery bags, keys slipping from her fingers while her face crumpled in that quiet, embarrassed way. like she hated that she was about to cry. like she didn’t want anyone to see it.

he had seen it anyway.

he just hadn’t stepped in.

his eyes track her as she crouches in front of the oven now, the light casting something soft over her face. she looks calmer like this. focused. safe.

his gaze softens. just slightly.

then headlights cut across the front of the house.

rafe’s attention snaps up instantly.

a truck pulls into the driveway, engine rumbling low before it cuts off. his expression shifts, sharpening. like something inside him straightens up.

he didn’t expect that.

he watches as the driver’s door opens, a man stepping out, slamming it a little harder than necessary. rafe doesn’t recognize him, not personally, but the way he walks up to the house, like he belongs there, like he’s done it a hundred times, makes something in rafe’s chest go cold.

the front door opens before the guy even knocks.

of course it does.

she lets him in.

rafe’s jaw ticks.

he pushes off the tree slightly, stepping forward just enough to get a better angle through the window, eyes narrowing as he watches the shift inside. it’s immediate. subtle, but immediate.

she changes.

her shoulders pull in. her movements get smaller, quicker, like she’s trying to do everything right before something goes wrong.

the guy says something. rafe can’t hear it, but he sees the tone in it. sharp. dismissive. the way her head dips in response.

his hands curl slowly at his sides.

they move further into the kitchen. the man glances at the counter, at the sink—at something rafe can’t fully see—and his posture shifts.

then it happens fast.

the guy gestures sharply, voice clearly raised now even if the words don’t carry. her head shakes a little, quick, apologetic. she says something back. soft, rushed.

not enough.

the man steps closer.

rafe’s body goes still.

there’s a split second where everything holds.

and then the guy lifts his hand and strikes her.

it’s not loud from this distance. not dramatic.

just sharp. sudden.

enough.

her head turns with it, her body stumbling slightly as she brings a hand up to her face. and there it is again—that same look from the steps, from the flour—only worse this time. her eyes fill instantly, shoulders curling in like she’s trying to make herself smaller.

rafe doesn’t move.

not right away.

his face doesn’t twist with shock or anger. it just…empties. goes still in a way that’s almost worse.

something settles behind his eyes.

inside, she’s crying now. visibly. trying to hold it back, trying to speak through it, but it’s there. her hands shake slightly as she wipes at her face.

the guy keeps talking.

like it didn’t matter.

like she didn’t matter.

rafe’s fingers flex once at his side.

slow.

controlled.

he watches the rest of it in silence. the way she nods, the way she apologizes, the way she tries to fix whatever set him off. watches until the man finally pulls away, grabbing his keys, heading back toward the door like nothing even happened.

like that was normal.

like that was fine.

the door opens.

slams.

rafe’s gaze follows him the entire way down the driveway.

the second the truck door shuts, something in rafe moves.

not rushed. not frantic. just decided.

he steps out from the shadows, already heading toward the street, eyes locked on the taillights as they flicker on. his pace is steady, measured, like he’s just another car pulling out behind him.

like this isn’t anything more than coincidence.

behind him, the house glows soft and quiet again.

as soon as the man opens the car door, rafe grabs a crowbar from the side of his girls house before sprinting over and striking the side of the man’s head.

the man can barely let out a groan before falling to the concrete and passing out.

rafe scoffs. the man was far too week for his baby.

he picks the man up and throws him into the bed of the truck. he then gets into the truck himself, searching for a wallet. he grabs the id and hums.

aiden smith. what a piece of shit.

he pulls out of the driveway, making sure his sweetheart wasn’t watching through the window, and drives towards the woods nobody dares to step into.

he eventually gets to the lake. he gets out, grabbing the knife with the girls initials carved into it.

he approaches the bed of the truck. “wake up, aiden,” he murmurs, dragging the man out of the truck by his feet. “fucking wake up, aiden!” he raises his voice, kicking him in the ribs.

aiden coughs and his eyes snap open. “jesus christ!”

“wow, you’re very unappealing to look at.” he mutters, tracing his jaw with the knife.

“what the fuck is wrong with you, man?” the man stares at rafe, his eyes full of horror.

“whats wrong with you, man?” rafe retorts mockingly. “you think you can put your hands on a woman? my woman?”

“what are you talking about? are you insane?” aiden tries to crawl backwards, but his hand hits the edge of water, making him stop.

“you hit her. you hit my fucking baby. you think thats okay? you think you can beat on someone smaller than you?” he presses the knife deeper into the skin of his jaw, just drawing blood.

“oh my god. my girlfriend? she’s been cheating on me with your psycho ass?” he hisses in pain.

“she’s always been mine. you dont deserve to live another day on the same planet as her.” rafe finally draws the knife out of his jaw.

relief fills aidens eyes—and rafe almost laughs with the trust he just knows he feels—before plunging the knife into his throat.

blood spills out of aiden’s throat, and rafe smirks at the sight of him struggling.

he dies quickly, much to rafe’s disappointment. rafe sighs and pats the mans cheek before casually throwing him into the lake, watching him drown.

tags: @amelialovesrafe @alyisdead @illumoria @blissfulbutterfliess @sydneysslove @matthewswifeyy @meetmeintheemeraldpool @lcversvoid @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @cokewithcameron @drewrry @harubunnyy @lifeonawhim @ar1ynx @tottassss @nessasmultiverseoflove @camerxnlove @mochibunnyyyy @starkeysfile @rosiecherie @dainted @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @angelicameron @p34rlzzz @maximumstructurearchivist @seraphiccrafe @graciegibsonn @obxobsessedbitch1 @dabishou @corallandtragedy3 @dxphhnnee @angxlsxx @l1ttlebones @kavycakes @drewsbby

I LOVE YOUR STUFF FOR THE 141!!!

So, I don’t really know like how your requests work, but I checked and saw that you took them, so id thought I’d ask.

What would the 141 do with a reader who’s kind of a crybaby? Like, not so much that they cry all the time, but like if they’re overly mad, overstimulated, or like basically any extreme of anything, they cry. They don’t like that they do it— they think it’s kind of weak and childish— but when the waterworks start, they can’t really stop it.

I apologize if this isn’t really a great prompt, but Ive just been thinking about it so I just wanted to see if you’d try it.

THANK YOUUUU !!!

To their credit they were very gracious.

You had always been a bit more inclined to shed tears. Whenever small instances started to build, one thing could just send you over the edge into crying territory.

Today, it was a casserole. The boys had just returned from a long period of deployment, finally coming back home to you. You had a whole plan in your head about the house being spotless, and you looking nice, and having a fancy dinner ready. But everything had been going wrong. You were having a bad hair day and the store had been out of the cream you needed and you had spilled something on the carpet and couldn’t get it up and you were so flustered about everything being perfect and how everything was going wrong that when you went to pull the casserole from the oven you completely forgot about the concept of oven mitts.

And so a yelp left you as your hand was met with the burning glass, followed shortly by a large crash of the dish shattering on the ground, another whine escaping you as a shard sliced you shin.

“Darling?” Came the concerned yell from the living room. That just made you want to cry more.

You didn’t want them to see you like this. You always wanted to be perfect for them, and most times you just weren’t. This being a prime example. You quickly grabbed a rag and found a home on the floor to start cleaning up. Tears were already falling by the time John rounded the corner.

John kneeled down beside you, gripped your chin between his finger and thumb to make you look at him. You knew he would have convinced the others to stay in the living room to not overwhelm you more. When he saw the tears starting to fall his tsk’d gently and wiped them away with his thumb. “Trying to take on too much again, eh sweetness?” When he spotted the blood slowly dripping from your shin, he hummed and looked closer, “You’ll be alright, sweetheart. Go find Simon and Kyle, they’ll fix you up. I’ll take care of this.” He grabs you under the arms and plops you back on your feet, which made you equal parts appreciative and angry for him treating you like you’d break. Though…you can’t say you didn’t feel fragile. He grabs the first aid kit from under the sink and hands it to you to take.

You listen, practically running back with your tail tucked between your legs to find Simon. He had been lounging on the couch next to Kyle reading a book (though you suspected he had been pretending to read again after the crash), but when you entered the room and they both looked up to see your little pout and wet cheeks, Simon immediately tucked the book away, opening his arms for you to crawl onto his lap. Kyle turned off the game he was watching with a, “honey…”

You sniffled pathetically and used your sleeves to wipe away some new tears before indulging and cuddling up to Simon, placing the first aid kit beside you.

“Now, what happened ‘ere, lovie?” He said softly in your ear, tucking your hair away.

More sniffles, you found it hard to talk when you cried, “…dropped the dish.”

“That’s alright, let’s get this cleaned up, hmm?” He handed the kit to Kyle, who pulled out some alcohol wipes, a bandaid, and some burn cream to treat you.

He kneeled down in front of the couch where you and Simon sat, gently grabbing your calf to stabilize it while he cleaned the cut. It stung. Which just made you more upset, you couldn’t help the small whimper when more tears came. You rung your uninjured hand in Simon’s sweatshirt.

Simon fitted his chin in the space between your shoulder and neck while Kyle just leaned down and kissed your knee above the cut, finishing cleaning and dressing it.

Johnny was a sympathy crier. So when he came back from the store and walked into the door to the sight of Simon and Kyle comforting you, he dropped the bags by the door and came over immediately. He kneeled down in front of you too, grabbing your hips and flinging himself onto your lap, letting out an incredibly high pitched “what happened?” Which kind of helped because seeing his eyes start to get blurry and his sniffing get more frequent all because you were crying made you giggle. They all lightened up a little at the noise.

Johnny insisted on taking over for Kyle, applying the burn cream with a feather-light touch, kissing your knuckles when he was done.

John strolled back into the living room from the kitchen, wiping his hands off on a rag before tossing it over his shoulder, “well…how’s pizza sound?”

Pairing : College Bully! Shoko x Secretly Perverted Crybaby! Reade

Wc:3.3k

Tw: blackmail, bullying, non consensual touching (only skin on the back), verbal bullying, humiliation, degradation, dub con, footplay(?) (not a feet kink just idk), bully!shoko, mean!shoko, puppy girl!reader, crybaby!reader, fingering, foot humping, wearing a but plug (no anal play), fingering, clit play, nipple play, marking, biting, begging, idk the ending might make a part two with a maid costume if this does well, innocent! Reader, barely proof read, author is a lesbian virgin please don’t read the sex scenes too carefully, collar and leash tugging that’s it I think

Your college life was supposed to be fun. You were supposed to go out to lesbian bars and meet a pretty girl who could possibly take your virginity. Unfortunately for you, the very first bar you went to, you managed to piss off one of the most popular lesbians- Shoko Ieri. And even more unfortunate for you, she was in all your college courses. Curse whichever god made you think that taking pre med was an actual good choice.

See you didn’t even do much, you were just 18, freshman year of college, straight out of your small countryside town pushed into the big city life with nothing but a fake ID and some liquid courage. So could you really blame anyone for spilling a shot all over the first pretty girl you laid your eyes on? No, no you couldn’t.

Shoko Ieri was effortlessly pretty, the type that made you stare into her side profile for hours on end and press your thighs together as you ignored the the empty sensation pooling in your tummy, that and the sticky mess that you’d inevitably have to clean up once you reached home.

She groaned in annoyance when you spilled the alcohol on her, putting her cigarette down as she got up from the barstool and wiped it down with a few tissues, pristine white shirt being ruined by your clumsiness. Her friends laughed around her, a pretty brunette with a scar running over her cheek and a blonde woman in the tightest black turtleneck.

“I’m- I’m so sorry I didn’t know where I was going I can compensate you- or get it cleaned for you,”

You stammered over your words, blood running hot in your veins as the club music thrummed in your ears. Shoko merely gave you a one over, eyeing the frilly top you had one and the white skirt that rested just below your knees with a disdainful look.

She muttered some profanities under her breath as she pushed past you and entered the washroom, knowing none the better you followed on her heel, more apologies spilling from your lips as she rolled her eyes in distaste,

“I don’t know what you expected coming here with a set up like that-,”

She paused, waving with her hands as she looked down at you through her pretty lashes,

“But I can assure you that no one’s gonna look twice at a country bumpkin like you,”

You could almost feel your heart shattering in your chest, you though that this would be different from Highschool, the mean girls who found out you were gay and bullied you relentlessly would not exist in the glamorous city life. But here you are, once again biting your glossy lips and batting your masacara lined eyelashes as you looked at the bathroom floor.

Shoko patted your shoulder, playing with the lacy ends of your sleeves as she chuckled dryly,

“Best to go home ‘kay pumpkin? Last time I checked this isn’t a farm.”

Her words hit you hard and you don’t even remember how you got back to your home in one piece, wiping off your streaky makeup as you woved to yourself that you would never let someone walk over you again like that.

Easier said than done because for the next three years, atleast after Shoko had found out you were in all her classes, she made it her personal mission to make life hell for you, bullying you relentlessly just for the fun of it.

She’d pull the straps of your shirts, always making sure to sit next to you in classes. She’d fiddle with the ends of your tops, pressing her cold hand under the material to find the warm skin of your back. Her friends would watch from a distance but look the other way.

She’d purposely trip you in hallways, just to watch you scramble to get your books in order and press them against your chest. She’d corner you in empty lecture rooms and peek down your shirt, always commenting on the type of bra you wore while giggling at the sight of tears in your eyes.

At least at home you could escape from her incessant comments. Your parents were financially well enough to send you to a private women’s college, they even insisted you get an apartment as there were no dormitories. Your home was your safe heaven, your only place of comfort and rest.

And well, you kind of developed the odd hobby. Having no friends or social life makes you quite attached to the internet, and ever since you were a teen finding half naked photos of women in pretty lingerie on your older brothers computer, you’d always wanted the same for yourself.

So after discovering the joys of online shopping, not only were you addicted to wearing lacy garments, you also developed a few unorthodox kinks, ones that if your parents knew about, they’d definitely take you back home without a second thought.

Your collection was pretty, and it was all hidden under your closet in a safe and secure box. What wasn’t so thoroughly hidden was the secret stash of Polaroids that you took while facing the mirror when in said clothes. They had you pictured in multiple different positions, tight lacy bras which left nothing to the imagination, collars and puppy ears as you tilted your head and pouted while taking a photo.

It started as a way to build confidence but soon you started to enjoy looking at yourself in those photos, imagining having a mistress who would take care of your needs and call you sweet names. So what if you were a bit more on the freaky side, you had maybe two good friends and only your best friend knew of the photos, accidentally discovering them one day when she slept over and went to look for an extra charger.

Even then she said nothing, only teasing you for a few minutes as she told you which ones were the best and which ones you could possibly improve on. She was from another college so she didn’t know the rumours surrounding you and Shoko, nonetheless you were grateful for her opinion. So the Polaroid camera sat inside your table and the raunchy photos right beside them.

You didn’t know who or which god to blame when you were paired up with Shoko. To make matters worse, she insisted that you both do the project in your apartment instead of hers because her roommates were having sex or something. She reveled in the way heat rose up to your cheeks and you stuttered out a response, mouth curling into a grin as she followed you to the apartment.

The minute you stepped in she sat down on the couch, making herself comfortable as you put down your books on the dining table and pulled a chair out for her,

“S-shoko we really need to start working, can you please..”

The brunette snapped her head to you, taking in the interior of your house as she shrugged with and shook her head, standing up as she observed each trinket in your house, running over the framed photos on your wall as she asked questions about your family.

You grabbed her wrist as she opened the door to your bedroom, nervously stammering out an excuse as she merely pushed you to the side and sauntered into the room, making herself comfortable on the bed.

She laughed as you tried to talk to her about the project, poking your plushies with her finger as she made fun of your light pink themed room. You stood at the doorway, hands clutching the frill of your shirt as you avoided her gaze and made excuses about the decor in your room.

Which is why you didn’t notice her pulling open the nightstand drawer and reaching for the stack of photos, too busy looking at the plush carpet under your feet as she hummed a tune.

“Woah I didn’t know you were such a freak pumpkin!”

This made you snap your head at her, eyes widening as she took her sweet time going through each and every Polaroid. You immediately jumped on top of her, trying to get her to to give the photos up as tears of humiliation brimmed at the corner of your eyes. She only held the photos up higher, pullling her phone out and snapping quick shots of it with a grin on her face.

You say deflated on the bed, pulling your lower lip in as you tried not to ruin your carefully done makeup.

“P-please give those back..”

One hand was outstretched in her direction, head hung low as she got up from the bed while laughing,

“Pray tell why would I do that? These photos.. did you take them all yourself? God you must be so pathetic..”

Shoko just stared at you while you whimpered on the bed, shoulders stooped low as you tried not to tremble. Your nails dug into the skin of your palm as you sat almost obediently on the end, resting your fists on your thighs as you awaited her next mockery,

“Hm… show them to me,”

Shoko smiled when you looked up to her confused, pulling a Polaroid out and pointing to the set you had on,

“Go put this on and come back or I’ll show everyone just how much of a freaky slut you are. You don’t want your parents to know that their precious, sheltered daughter’s become some kind of perverted whore, now do you?”

The tears were freely falling now and you stuttered out a weak protest before the brunette hauled you onto your feet and pushed you into your closet, holding the door shut as she hummed,

“Be quick now, I don’t have much patience!”

The picture she chose was one where you had puppy ears and a butt plug. The whole set was in white, a translucent crop top with lace ruffling and a heart cut out in the middle where it showed the curve of your chest attached with white frilly sleeves, a short white skirt that rested just above the curve of your ass, thigh highs and ribbons that pulled the entire outfit together.

You had barely clipped the leash on your collar as you stepped out, covering yourself with your hands as you looked away from Shokos prying gaze. She whistled low as she cursed under her breath,

“Fuck~ aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, huh puppy?”

You pressed your thighs together, still refusing to meet her gaze as she took a hold of your collar and tugged.

Hard.

“Ah!”

You yelped as you moved forward, immediately falling on your knees with a soft thump! As Shoko stared at you from above with a condescending look,

“Naughty mutt… good girls sit on the floor right?”

You pinched your eyebrows in confusion as she tugged once again at the white leash, pushing your head to meet her thigh as you looked up at her through your lashes,

She used her sock clad feet to push your skirt upwards and you immediately tugged it down, flushed to the neck at the prospect of her seeing you so vulnerable,

“S-shoko please… don’t do this,,”

The woman only groaned as she pulled at your leash, causing you to tug at your collar while she finally moved the fabric from your crotch away,

She smiled like she was enjoying ice cream on a hot summer day and not forcing you on your knees for her while she had her way with you. Not that you could deny the pool of arousal growing in your gut as she pressed the top of her foot into the gusset of your panties.

You keened forward as she grazed the tip of your clit, whining loudly as you wrapped your arms around her leg, resting your forehead on her knee as you looked at where her foot connected with you,

“Tch. Bad puppy, not behaving at all, we’ll have to give you some punishment later yeah?”

Lusty fog had started to take over your brain and you shook your head no as you panted, moving your body back and watching Shoko rest her foot on the floor as she stared at the wet spot forming on your panties,

“Fucking mutt.. you’ll get off to anything won’t you?”

You whined again, this time the empty feeling in your stomach only started to increase as you quickly started moving your hips against her, covering her fabric in your slick as she watched intently from above.

You started desperately humping her leg as you started to chase the high building up in you, moaning more freely and digging your fingernails into her slacks when she abruptly pulled away.

You chest was heaving as you looked up at her, glossy eyes and bitten lips when she pulled you up by your shoulders and laid you on the bed,

“Good puppies as for permission when they want to come do they not?”

You nodded your head desperately as she sat over you, playing with the ears on your head as you leaned into her touch, almost purring at the soft affection. Her other hand trailed down to your thigh highs, pulling the fabric against your skin and reveling in the way you yelped at her, clutching her shirt as your makeup ran streaky down your face.

She pulled away from your thigh to squish your cheeks in one hand, making you pucker your lips at her as she cooed at you. You sat flushed in embarrassment before she quickly kissed you, biting into your lip before shoving her tongue into your mouth.

You gasped against her, fisting her shirt in your hand as she licked into your mouth, smiling when she felt you squirm against her. The brunnette kissed messily, keeping you on her mouth for what felt like hours until you pushed her away to gasp for breath, lips red and swollen from all the biting she had done.

She pushed you until your back hit the bed and you whined for her, hands stretching out to grab for her again, she condescendingly cooed at you, wrapping your thighs around her waist as she swiped her index finger through the basically transparent fabric of your panties flipping your mini skirt upwards to look at your cunt better,

“Look at how wet you are puppy… is this all for me?”

She grinned at you as you nodded your head, corners of her mouth lifting up to show her perfectly white teeth. She started rubbing at your clit expertly with her thumb while her other hand bunched your panties in a fist to see your twitching hole,

“P-please wanna cum s-so bad Shoko!”

You whined, hips bucking against her finger as she rubbed faster, slowly easing one finger into your gushing hole as she spread your folds apart,

“So cute, such a good puppy for me hm? Good girl, go ahead, cum for me,”

You shivered against the warm breath on your neck, she bent down to place soft bites on your neck, creating hickies as she went by. Your back arched off the bed as your eyes rolled backwards, mouth open and drooling as the coil in your tummy finally broke and you were gushing around her finger, covering the brunette’s hands in bittersweet cum.

“A-ah! Feels shooooo good shoko!!! ‘m cum-cummmmming!!!!”

She added an extra finger inside your sloppy cunt, scissoring you apart as she helped you ride out your orgasm with amusement dancing on her face,

“Fuck. Such a good puppy for me, doing so good pretty girl come one you can do one more,”

She continued to pepper soft kisses down your neck, stopping when she was met with the fabric of your top and shushing you when she ripped the fabric in a second, exposing your nipples to the cold air,

“Ah-shoko wait! ‘m sensivitivee~ I can’t- ngh!”

You trashed against her hands as she popped a nipple in her mouth, rolling her tongue over the hardening bud and giving soft bites to it as she watched you writhe and gasp for mercy.

She pulled out with a lewd pop and started anchoring her fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you, giving your other breast the same affections while placing harsher bites on the unmarked skin just to watch the indent of her teeth and the blooming of bruises.

You soon started to clench tightly around her, calling out for her in between moans, hands curling around her shoulder to pull her in, lips trailing after hers with the cutest pout trying to hint for a kiss,

“Aww does the poor puppy want a kiss? C’mon you can do better than that, yeah? Ask properly,”

You whined, thrashing your head in petulant circles as you jutted your lower lips out, more tears streaming down your face as you hiccuped and sobbed so cutely,

“P-please shoko w-mmmmn! W-want kiss!!”

She finally obliged, smiling against your lips as she shoved her tongue into your mouth for the second time, sloppily making out with you as drool seeped down your chin. Your head rocked against the plush pillows as she increased her pace, your poor pussy fluttering around her fingers.

“Nngh! Sho ‘m close ‘m so close, please please please wanna cum please let me cum w-wanna cum so bad!”

You pleaded, sobbing against her as you bit into her clothed shoulder in an effort to muffle your ever growing whines. Shoko groaned in response, pulling you closer by your waist as her other hand rolled a nipple around her finger, watching you come undone underneath her figure.

When you finally came with a loud broken moan, she shushed you with her mouth, devouring all your moans, gasps and whines with her skillful tongue,

“Shh puppy, did so well for me huh? Such a pretty puppy did so good for me, you’re so well behaved aren’t you,”

She pulled her fingers from your gushing hole, watching it clench around nothing in the postorgasmic state. Lewdly, she pushed her fingers into your mouth, watching your swirl your tongue and whine around your own taste with a satisfied smirk,

“Wonder who taught you to be so good hmm?”

You preened at her praise, hips twitching as you watched her lean back on her heels, sucking her fingers into her own mouth to taste the combined taste of your saliva and juices,

“So fucking sweet, you’re going to be the death of me puppy,”

You shut your eyes, embarrassed flush crawling up your face as you squirmed under her gaze. She took a clean cloth from the nightstand, leaving you briefly as she washed it with some warm water. She sat down on the bed and pried your legs apart,

“Shh, shh ‘m not gonna touch you Kay? Just need to clean up your pretty mess puppy,”

You whined when the cloth came into contact with your overly sensitive pussy, pulling your hips back in a failed attempt to escape. Shoko was eyeing your tired form, watching the way your eyes drooped down in exhaustion as a hand gripped your hip possessively,

“Go to sleepy pretty girl, I’ll take care of this.”

By the time you woke up, you felt cleaner, she must have wiped your entire body downand changed your clothes. The thought made more heat crawl up your cheeks and you tried to shift in bed, only to find out that you were tightly held against something.

You peeked up through your lashes to see Shoko’s resting figure, another glance at the clock told you it was a little past three in the morning. She groaned when you tried to move, pulling your face closer into the crook of her neck and keeping you there.

For now you were content to be here, a warm body pressed against you, the giddy feeling in your chest and Shokos comforting scent overtaking any of the worrisome thoughts you had. The rest would come for tomorrow.

An: I lwk wanna write more parts with each of the Polaroids so tell me your kinks and any ideas in the comments I wanna do a maid one for sure but idk about the rest… I won’t do bottom! Shoko and I also won’t write for Shoko receiving from reader other than cunnlingus bevaus im not experienced in writing that and also I won’t write scissoring cuz Idk how to write that either anyway I hope you enjoyed freaky lesbos! Heh

My Sweet Little Crybaby

summary: Rafe learning how to handle his sweet crybaby. characters: rafe cameron. crybaby! reader warnings: just rafe being a little mean. word count: 1.2k

The afternoon sun slanted low through the windows of Rafe’s room, staining the air gold. The ceiling fan whirred tiredly overhead, stirring the heavy heat that clung to the walls. Rafe’s shirt lay crumpled on the floor, his shoes half-kicked under the bed, abandoned like everything else when you’d stumbled back from the chaos of the beach and the races and the noise.

Now, it was the slow, honeyed part of the day - the part where time stretched soft and quiet around you, where the only thing that mattered was him.