teuanjo

[teuanjo]

A clingy yandere wolf boy!

desc: yandere wolf hybrid x gender neutral reader, clingy yandere, yandere wolf boy, pretty much fluff, for now!!

The forest surrounding your house not only comforts you but makes you feel safer since there was no one around you for miles without end. Even if there was someone that dared to encroach on your property, you had axes and more than a few metallic weapons to keep you safe.

Usually, you just used your axe to scare off big creatures.

There’s been one big creature that has been on your mind for awhile. You’ve placed your guesses that this thing has been either threatening you or trying to offer some sort of gift?

Mangled hares and deer heads weren’t exactly your vision of a good dinner though.

Before you can further worry about what it means, you usually chuck the pieces to a pack of coyotes that you know venture on your homestead without a care in the world, no matter how many times you chase them off.

You leave your house to collect some plants for tonight’s dinner, almost running over the bloody mess on your porch again, a new pile of creatures have appeared. You let out a long sigh, hating the fact that this happened during times you need to do something else.

You go back inside the house to grab a trash bag.

An unfamiliar creature hides behind a nearby tree with its tail wagging anxiously. He’s worried you’re going to throw this gift away too, was there something wrong with the way he got the prey? He hardly bit into them incase you were annoyed with bite marks making your food look unappetizing.

His ears stay pinned to his head, hoping you’d appreciate this gift.

“Oh! they have a bag, maybe they’re going to bring it back into their house to cook tonight” His tail sways in curiosity, maybe you had finally accepted it! He was finally worthy of being your mate!

He almost steps out to present himself now that you’ve accepted his gift but you make him stop in his tracks when you don’t go inside your house.

You look up, using your hand as a shade for your eyes as you do, seeing some vultures circling nearby you decide you’d give them this since they’d definitely appreciate it more than you do.

“Wait-! Please don’t throw away my gift again” Ayaan appears, a wolf boy that could be mistaken as someone’s house dog judging by how meek he looked at first.

“Is something wrong with it? I’ve been too scared to approach you but now I don’t get it, are my gifts not big enough? Do you want me to hunt a larger animal?” He rambles, looking twice as larger now that he’s no longer hiding behind a tree.

He’s taller, possibly intimidating if he tried to be.

“Gifts? I don’t underst—.. ohh! This is yours? Are you the person leaving these animals on my porch?” You piece it together almost immediately.

“Sorry…” He looks down at the ground, immediately flustered at your words, he must’ve done something wrong. You didn’t even realize that he was asking to be your mate. How embarrassing…

You look confused as he seems to apologize and keep his head down, practically mimicking a sad puppy with his tail between his thighs.

“I’m just confused, why were you leaving these animals at my door? I’m not mad at you” You tap on his shoulder, directing him to look up and understand that you weren’t angered by his actions, just intrigued in what the purpose of it was.

You can’t help but admit to yourself that it was irritating to clean up.

“I was asking to be your mate, with the food, I thought you’d be impressed.. but- but! I can get bigger prey, just give me another chance I’ll get you a bear! A giant one too” His demeanor flips around, his blue eyes catching more light, making them more bright and determined looking.

“I’m alright, I don’t need anymore more dead animals at my door step. And mate? I’m not a wolf hybrid, have you seen me?” You laugh, wondering if the heat in this forest was deluding himself into thinking that you were. You continue walking with the bloody bag, now dripping from an undetected hole.

“I-i know! That’s okay, I don’t care” He says with confidence, almost pressed at your side and he loyally follows you. “Would you prefer if I was human? I don’t think I can get rid of my ears or tail but.. I could probably hide them somehow” He mumbles, thinking about solutions.

“No, I just don’t understand why you’re interested in me of all people, aren’t you guys supposed to date only wolf hybrids and indiscreetly judge humans despite living amongst them?”

You can’t help but ponder about where he has his home set up, you really could’ve sworn that there was no one around for miles, it was a half hour drive into town, you knew some packs had their own little villages established in the forest but you’ve surveyed the entire thing and found none.

“I dunno much about the wolf culture or whatever, I never really paid attention” His tail sways in curiosity at the scars you had on your back, he wanted to graze his fingers against them, wondering what animal dared to face you.

“Huh, alright, well I guess you can stick around, just pull your weight” You grunt as you lug around the heavy bag of fuzzy corpses, it might’ve been some foxes this time but they were too mutilated for you to tell. You come up right to the area where the vultures circles, dropping the bag for them to rip at.

You had forgotten to grab a knife so they’ll just have to rip at the plastic.

“How long can I stick around?” Ayaan makes sure you hadn’t forgotten about his presence, he holds onto your shirt, you don’t really understand what form of dominance it’s supposed to establish but you just let it happen. It wasn’t anything concerning so far.

“However long you want, just help me with chores and you won’t be a bother” You bluntly speak, with a careless tone that would seem hurtful to others but this lovesick puppy takes it as a deal that would last for an unlimited amount of time.

For rest of the day, he cheerily helps out with anything you do, chopping wood? He’s got his own station right next to you, hammering at the logs until you say it’s enough. Collecting food for dinner? He’s killing every bird, insect, and living thing in his sight. He’s doing anything to prove himself as a good partner.

You let out a long sigh once you land in your comfortable bed, as soon as you feel the end of the bed sink under heavy weight you immediately speak. “You can stick around me during the day but you’re not sleeping in the same bed as me”

You hear a throaty whine come out, all you could really see were his shaky blue eyes as he pawed at the sheets, testing his luck. “Please? I’ll be cold, and packs usually always stay cuddled together” He lies, trying to put on the best pouty face he could muster, he wasn’t ever a beggar until he met you.

You shake your head, pointing at the door, to which he sulks and practically has to drag himself out the door.

Your demand was ignored once you went to sleep anyways, Ayaan snuck under the sheets and cuddled right up to you, holding you like a childhood stuffed animal, so protectively as if someone might steal you away. His tail was wagging so fast it made a thumping sound under the sheets throughout the night.

Now you were definitely stuck with him.

#Fav

[teuanjo]

Smile for the camera, baby! ♡

sub!yan!husband x meanie!reader

cw: sub! yandere husband. dom!fem!reader. hand job. orgasm denial. riding. choking with fingers. creampie. breeding for the man. wc: 660ish

sub!yandere!husband had just gotten home from work and how he can't wait to see his caring lover again. He may have a high libido himself, but his wife? Oh, that will be the death of him.

You sat prettily on top of his lap, your newly manicured nails that he paid for, wrapped tightly around his cock’s tip. He groans as you lean in for a kiss, the pace on your hand getting faster, and his mouth opens to gasp. You have been teasing his cock, milking him for all his worth, but not letting his cock taste your warm insides.

You could feel his hips buckling, he grunts, his legs shaking as white long ribbons landing on both of your shirts. One of your hands raised to put a strand of his hair to see his scrunched brows with his eyes closed. You cooed with a honey-sweet tone by his ear, “Y’look so pretty underneath me, love.” He softly moans at your compliment, instantly with just your little praise, his cock came stirring back to life, and you laugh lowly at how pathetic he always ends up.

With your hand still on his now semi-hard cock, your other hand came in to grope his chest to get his necktie and rid of the buttons of his white long sleeves off of him. His shaky fingers reached for your hand to help you remove them from each of the holes, the upper half of his polo now exposed. With the same hand, you raised it to caress his face and lifted it up to expose his neck and left wet chaste kisses, leaving red lipstick marks as he crooned his neck back mode to give you more access.

He gasps when you started to pump again, the palm of your hand centering its attention on its tip as he let out little whimpers. Your other hand was still stroking what was not given attention. Your experienced hands never fail to make his cock pulse, while your lips were still leaving kisses on his neck.

His breath quickens again, your hands busy stroking up and down his cum covered dick as he whines and pants, his hands shakily reaching for your hand, his eyes closing to focus on reaching that peak, “Ngh—b-baby, hah… faster, please…!”

When your hands come to an abrupt stop, he whines loudly as his hips try to buck to get a little more friction, “Why'd you… please, ngh—continue stroking me, p-please! I'll be g-good f’you…! Just please move...!”

You shoved your fingers inside his mouth, muffling his whines and babbles, as he eagerly sucked on them quickly, moaning at the salty taste of his earlier release on your fingers. You pushed further down his throat, and he choked, spit splattering, but still didn't dare to cease as it drooled on the corner of his mouth and your fingers.

Once you were satisfied, you removed your fingers from his mouth, and he moaned as you covered his dick with saliva, though that was just short lived.

You remove your fingers from his cock, and he cries from the sudden loss of contact but is quickly stopped by a moan as you lift yourself up and let yourself drop down his cock. You grind your hips underneath you, giving him a moan as you relish in the feeling of his fat girth that will always make you so fucking full, his cock twitches from your sudden tightness. He pants as his breath quickens once again—finally, finally you let him fill you up deep inside.

You started to bounce yourself on his dick slowly, then faster suddenly as his hands rested on each of your thighs with his head laid back on the sofa, mouth letting out whorish moans. With one of his arms, he covers it as the heat and red hue spreads his face.

You grunted, the erotic sight of your husband underneath you—heated and horny—makes you just remember something... one of your hands reached over the near drawer and pulled out something on the top portion, your husband already too pussy drunk or bother.

Once you hold it in your grasp, you continued to bounce on him, not letting him get a chance to breathe as you lifted the camera in your hands, with the lens staring directly at the two of your heated bodies. Your other hand reached to grasp his cheeks with your thumb on the side and index finger on the other, waking him up to whatever love spell he was under.

He slips a peek underneath his arm. His face showed something of curiosity, mixed with lust as he waits for what you'll do. You shove his face towards the camera’s way and his face flusters even more as he shakes for you to stop.

You grinned, eyes filled with lust, “Smile for the camera, baby.”

Click

He shakes underneath you. Surprisingly, at the same time the photo shoots, he moans loudly as he shoots his heavy warm load deep inside you too. He arched his body forward to hide his face from the camera as he feels your laugh vibrate through your chest. His hands tightly hug your body to keep you still on his throbbing cock as he continues to fill your womb with his fertile seed.

He panted on your chest, and you chuckled. “Good job, baby! We're going to put this along with the other ones.”

rxxiies @ reblogs are appreciated ♡

[teuanjo]

Dear authors, you should really stop putting "x reader" in your OC insert fics because it's a self insert of YOUR character and not that of the reader. I understand you want attention on the post, but it's completely misstagging the story and is quite frankly frustrating and annoying. Yeah, some readers may adapt to it, but some absolutely can not. Thank you very much

[teuanjo]

Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️

TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY

A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.

READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE

Thanks for the ask!

The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.

"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"

Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"

"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.

"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.

"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.

"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.

Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."

"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."

"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."

"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.

"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"

Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.

When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.

"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.

"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."

You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."

"A sap for you, honeybun~"

"I said don't call me that in public!"

"But whyyyy?"

You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.

"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.

You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?

The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.

Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.

"You."

Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.

"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"

You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"

The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.

He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"

"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"

A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.

[teuanjo]

Bothering the beast

[teuanjo]

OMG THE YANDERE LORD

I need more. He is too delectable 😍

𝒜 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒!𝐿𝑜𝓇𝒹

”𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓈 𝒶𝒸𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈.” A continuation of my oc Ambrose, The lord N: Don't I have a gift for you, Anon! God, I had to rewrite this so many times, BUT I'M DONE!! Eat up! This is a long one! I had to watch so many gun videos (like two), which was unexpected... CW: Fem reader (she/her), acts and talks of violence (not towards the reader), implied murder, threats, guns, fluff (with the reader lol), mocking, power balance (?) Jealousy (or pettiness) Wc: 3.5k 

A shotgun sound echoes throughout the forest, followed by yet another dead Grey partridge and light crunches of leaves beneath stomping leather boots. 

“That bastard of a man! A prick! Son of a bitch! Son of an adventuress at that!” Ambrose stops in his tracks, reloading his sporting rifle with more gunpowder. Anger consuming his entire being.”Did you hear what that bloody cocksucker Patrick said to her?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, grabbing the tiny 0.5 mm sphere lead bullet and layering it on top of some fabric. Shoving it inside the rifle barrel, “If what he said changed from the last few hundred times you’ve re-told the incident, then I have no utter clue.”  The younger male rolls his eyes, picking up the tenth bird Ambrose has slaughtered this afternoon. He ignores his younger cousin’s sarcastic quip and continues. “ ‘If you wish for a lovely evening, do not be a stranger; send me a letter, and I'll be by your side.’ I should’ve darkened his daylights when those vile words left his devil mouth.” He fixes his gun upright, pushing the first trigger, waiting for another prey to be a victim of his wrath. 

“Is she spoken for? Have you outwardly said you intend to court her?” His cousin questions, and Ambrose, in retaliation to his younger relative’s question….blushes like a young girl. Clenching his jaw, he answers, “No,” “Are you mad?!?” “I’ve attempted…but alas, my nervousness has sabotaged me.” Astonished, his cousin continues, “Then you have no right to be jealous of her, you fool.” 

Bushes start rustling. Ambrose aims and squints instantly, with a pointer finger on the second trigger. A small grey rabbit appears, and immediately, it's killed straight through its skull; a soft smile appears on Ambrose’s face. “For her, I'll be whatever is needed.” 

“You are not sane.”

“Don’t be rude, Finch. This is love in its purest form. One day, you’ll understand.” The older male shrugs his shoulders.

“Now,” Ambrose reloads his gun, repeating his past actions, but this time, he looks straight into the other male’s eyes. “What do you know about Patrick Barton?” “I do not-” Ambrose cuts him off. “ Do not lie to me, young Finch…” His voice becomes lower, mocking, his aura more sinister. “You frequent more gentleman clubs than I; lord knows I hate the people and atmosphere of said clubs– Your mother grumbles enough to mine about the subject.” In goes the gunpowder “You surround yourself with such…’ vast’ personalities from the elites to the ladies of night.” The grey-eyed man reaches into his waistcoat for a lead bullet. “Yet you tell me– you don’t know about a mere Lord.” He scoffs.

Finch watches his older cousin's actions. Of course, he only asked to spend time with him for information regarding the apple of his eye’s new ‘suitor.’ The young man knows his current situation, the number of Grey partridge carcasses he holds because of Ambrose, and how far deep he’s in the forest, alone with his turbulent cousin. This was a warning, a show of sorts, that he could join these insignificant birds. He tries to swallow the heavy lump stuck in his throat. Ambrose was always the odd man; his smile never reached his eyes, his charm as real as a disloyal man’s ‘ I love you.’ His older cousin wasn’t above putting his hands on his own blood to get what he wanted– Ambrose’s father’s scar is evidence enough. 

“He partakes in Hell’s, frequents them more than gentleman’s clubs, a gambler of sorts. Loves it! He brags about the thrills of it and his winnings. Folks whisper that he’s a dishonourable shark. But it's not just hell establishments he attends; If there's someplace to gamble away his earnings, he's there,” Finch sputters his confession. 

“And Mills? Does he attend those as well?” “Yes,” The younger lad answers his senior instantly.

Ambrose just hums in return.

Just finishing his task, he aims for his cousin; he wears an inexpressive face, his grey eyes darkened and vacant, with no light, no soul.

“Wait, wait! I told you what you wanted!” Finch pleas. He could run, but in retrospect, how far can he go? Ambrose has a fucking rifle. He’s a good shot, no, an excellent shot. Hell! It’s borderline impossible how he always hits his targets, especially with how hard it is to aim for those things. Finch is panicking; his cousin has already pushed the first trigger. The nervous lad just accepts it; what else could he do? He closes his eyes, expecting his death to come quickly, then he hears a gunshot…

And he's fine…? Another Grey partridge falls from the sky right before him, its dead eye looking at the twenty-year-old.

Ambrose’s gun aims towards the sky. He lowers it. Then he casually approaches the stunned male, who lets out a staggered sigh, relieved he escaped death by a hair. Ambrose looks down at Finch, grabbing his shoulder and leaning in close. “Don’t ever fucking lie to me ever again, especially when the topic concerns my love.” Finch nods rapidly, shaking like a leaf. “Of course, sir, sorry.” Then, the older male releases his shoulders. “Good. Gift those birds to a peasant; perhaps they’ll make dinner with it, oh, and the rabbit, too. Say I have decided to help my community or something along those lines.” He looks at the sky. “I have a woman blessed by aphrodite to court.” His smile is bright, contrasting how he was a mere few seconds ago. He pats his younger cousin’s back and leaves the forest– The lifeless Grey partridge stares back at Finch, and he stares back.

Social calls…How dreadful. Worse is conversing with Lord Barton. He’s a bore, vulgar, and has an underlying inconsiderate, bitter personality. Having your mother as a chaperone does not make the situation any more bearable. 

 “Have you ever pondered about the future?” he inquires.

What kind of wet rag question is that? 

You put on a gentle smile. “Of course I have. Since I was a chit, I would read the local papers with my father-” He cuts you off “Children.” You look at him in confusion. “Pardon?”

The gentleman looks at you like you’re the biggest dunce in the country. “Children, how many children do you wish for? It would be sensible for us to have eight or ten,” “Hah…well…” you lift the tea cup to your mouth.

The man has no decorum…

After that fiasco, you decided to take a stroll downtown, and perhaps you’ll get a book from the local store, some new fabrics from a linen draper, or even some oils. Your pin money given to you by your parents could only cover one item... what a conundrum….

“Do tell why the viscount’s only daughter is doing without a chaperone?” He leans against the brick wall, arms crossed, his smile beaming.

“Lord Howard, have you dropped your hunting hobby in exchange for stalking?” He chuckles. “Witty as always, but dare I disappoint? I was just strolling about my day and coincidentally saw you– Perhaps fate has decided for us to meet?” He pushes himself off the wall and offers his arm. Was it coincidence or fate…? No, it was none; it was all Ambrose, him asking your fellow lady peers about your whereabouts. Then, wandering near whatever local shops would possibly pique your interest. Memories play in his head, such as when you both were young and would rendezvous at the local forest. You would acquire many hobbies when you were younger– your mother said you would have a higher chance of obtaining a suitor with diverse skills. He would remember them and watch you in amazement when you talked about them. 

You made him feel human. You made him feel alive. His father was never a loving one; he gained the son he wanted, and his heir then wanted nothing more to do with him. The only attention Ambrose earned from The Earl was if he needed reprimanding. Every laugh that was too loud, every fork that he unitized improperly, every action, small or big, was scrutinized. His mother was a vacant husk of a woman at home and a social butterfly in the public eye; she watered herself down to being a wife and a mother. She was neither. He detested both of them and hated that damned empty feeling of his soul and heart that matched his vacated house; he felt nothing. His world was as grey as his eyes.

Till he met the colourful Viscount’s daughter– If he got kicked by a horse and lost his memory, he would still somehow remember the day you two met—the memory ingrained in his bones, body, and soul. On the way to your estate, the stately carriage was soundless and suffocating, as if the air was thick. Ambrose remembers how he bore his eyes into his obsidian-polished boots, wishing for the minutes to pass faster.  

You were a naive hoyden the first time you introduced yourself; you forgot to say his title and yours. Using his common name and giving him an oh-so-sweet genuine smile, he hadn’t ever seen such an authentic smile for him and only him—not for his parents nor his riches. Just him. Your parents scolded you while apologizing profusely for your ‘disrespect.’ Before his parents could utter something backhanded yet elegant, Ambrose smiled. He didn’t know he could do that. For the first time, the young boy speaks up; he feels this protectiveness over you. But, at the moment, Ambrose couldn't care less about his father's punishment that would soon come; the only thing that mattered was you, and soon he’d found out that it would always be you.

An airy laugh escapes you. “Do you wish for us to be caught in a scandal every time we meet?” He raises a faux, worried face and voice. “Me?!? As a future Earl, I am fulfilling my gentlemanly duties by escorting a fine young lady and keeping her from potential dangers. What’s so scandalous about that?” You take his arm. “You’re far from sane, My Lord.”

“For you, My lady? I hope so,” He says proudly with his chest out.

A comfortable silence lulls you as you look at how the sun hits the trees, people, and him. The sun's rays lighten his dark brown hair, blessing it with an orange hue and grey eyes, becoming Iridescent, more akin to a pearl.

“The latest on dit says Lord Barton has called for your company?” He inquires 

Your face grimaces at just the sound of his name. As much as you loathe the man, he is a viable suitor with good money and an excellent reputation, but a suitable suitor does not equate to a good man. “He’s…an interesting individual…” His jaw clenches. You’re not being open as he wants; you’re holding back…he hates that you might be hiding something. Not you per se but that damned rake Patrick. “He’s a rake,” he spits out, and you gaze at him. He’s uncharacteristically serious.

You smile. “He is,” Ambrose turns his head to you, returning your smile.

“Quite the feat to dissect the woman you are trying to woo as well.” The gentleman’s eyebrows furrow. “He did not,” you huff. “Oh, he did!” Ambrose stops in his tracks and mummers your name softly. “If you would only permit it, Allow me to court you,” You raise an eyebrow at the sudden question, “Pardon?” He continues, “That bastard doesn’t deserve you.” “And you do?” he chuckles. “No, but I’ll do everything you ask me to, then maybe one day I'll deserve you; you wish for dresses? I'll buy you the tailor and store. Money is far from an issue. Heavens, ask for the world, and I'll give you it with the stars and beyond as accessories.” He turns his whole body to you, his hands finding yours, his leather gloves causing a barrier between your soft ones.

He hates that 

“Ambrose…” 

“Please…only if you’ll allow me.”  The love-sick man entreated “But what about the other more suitable ladies? I’ve heard-” “I do not care for them,” He interrupts you. “Every second I was apart, I only longed for you. The only reason I kept my studies up was to be the perfect suitor equal to you.” He caresses your knuckles. The butterflies in your stomach flutter more after each word spills out of his mouth. Your relationship with Ambrose was vague at most. You couldn’t put your finger on it; every time you were in his presence, you had this comfort no one else could recreate. You were hesitant to put a label onto it, and maybe you feel this way because he was the only man you truly felt you could be yourself with. 

“If you wish to court me, you must’ve thought to ask my father for permission rather than myself.” 

“I could’ve,” He pauses, “But I'd rather ask you first; I need your permission. I am not marrying your father, am I? I need to hear you wish for me as much as I yearn for you,”  

You amuse the thought. Ambrose is a prick at times, his teasing relentless, but despite that, he’s charming, sincere, soothing, and protective. He’s a good man, indeed. 

“I’ll bite, My lord.” “Please do.” He smirked, masking his nervousness.

You slap his hand lightly, reprimanding him, “Let me continue, you brute…I’ll allow you to court me.” “Truly?” he exclaims, Astonished. “Truly,” You nod meekly. In a haste, he kisses your bare hands, each knuckle, each finger. “I’ve been blessed indeed,” his voice is as blissful as a child receiving a sugary dessert. You yank your hands away from him, flushed from his actions. “You dog, we are in the public,” you scold him. “I shall make it up to you in our next outing; I vow,” You swear you could see a wagging tale behind him. You sigh. 

The day went on, and by sundown, Ambrose had hired a post-chaise for the both of you despite your protests of you living just around the corner. He claimed he had ‘Earl-like duties to attend to’ and you were just on the route back either way. As a gentleman should, he dropped you off promptly; as he left in the carriage, away from your estate, you softly ran your fingers over your knuckles. A smile adorns your face. “What an oaf,” you whisper to yourself. A fond grin decorates Ambrose’s face, a few giggles even, but as euphoric this day was, he did have business to attend to. A certain lord has decided to make his lacklustre presence known, and Ambrose couldn’t celebrate until he exterminated said pest.

Gentleman’s clubs were boisterous, loud, and untrustworthy. The men here are just as vile as the feed that is fed to pigs. The soon-to-be-Earl disliked them and only engaged in them because he needed to build his reputation. He may be judgemental, but he isn’t an idiot. Others may regard him as a friend, but for him, he could care less for it. The males around him start to recognize Ambrose, yelling pleasantries, which he would return and shut down politely or…as politely as he could in his eyes. A booming voice reverberates against the wall of the finely furnished building, only belonging to the one and only Patrick Barton. Unconsciously, a scowl appears on the young man’s face. Ambrose knew more than he led on about Patrick; he heard whispers of Barton’s hobby in the mills, rigging the boxing matches that were bid on by elites and peasants alike. Word says he would pay one of the desperate participants to lose on purpose– word is bound to escape one day or another. It is not a sustainable income source. Yet another reason Lord Barton is not fit for you.

Ambrose walks towards the table where the bastard sits, narrowing his eyes.

Lord Barton and his goons recognize the lord approaching them. Barton speaks first: “Lord Howard! Is it a blue moon? What on earth might’ve convinced you to come out of that dreadful estate?” He laughs, arranging some snuff onto the mahogany to snort. “Perhaps it’s because you plan on courting his woman.” a nameless male inquires. “No, could it be? I don’t blame you, Ambrose; she is a fine woman, isn’t she? She is just in need of training,” another male said, joining in. “So does every woman in this country.” Another chuckle escapes the vulgar lord. 

Ambrose’s leather gloves wrinkle. His fist clenched to prevent him from beating the man in front of him into a pummel. He has a plan, the grey-eyed man repeats in his head. Then he forces a smile on his face. “On the contrary, I've decided to pick up a new gambling hobby; why not ask the man of the hour himself for advice? Or even a game or two.” Ambrose signals a servant and orders drinks for the table. The man in question gets up, slapping Ambrose on his back. “Atta boy, never let a woman come between men; let bygones be bygones, what a joyance plan! Come, come.” The night continues, and Patrick is as drunk as the rest of the men in the club; Ambrose, the gentleman he is, offers him to join his carriage in his words. 'Let’s start this newfound friendship off with a bang.' Cold water hits the once-drunken lord, and he awakens, gasping for air on the cold textured ground. ‘Where am I?’ he thinks, discombobulated, looking around and grasping his situation. The dark forest surrounds him, almost engulfing him; the trees blow along with the wind, and the creatures of the night rustle in the background. A voice comes from the shadows, luring him away from his racing thoughts, “Gunpowder is such a messy substance, but did you know a man invented a gun powered by air? What a time to be alive! How revolutionary!” Patrick looks at the man, most of his body consumed by the darkness of nightfall, the moon only making his grey eyes visible. 

“Ambrose, what the utter fuck-” “Don’t interrupt.” He says sternly. “As I was saying, a gun powered by air,” He continues. “A watchmaker of all things invented it; how preposterous! He eliminated gunpowder entirely and named this new gun  Windbüchse or, I know you only know English, so pardon me, I'll translate, wind gun.”  

“It’s far better than my hunting rifle; the tedious thing is quite a hassle to reload. But this wind gun can load much faster, 20 rounds a minute! Compared to the other, it is much quieter. It's a shame its range is far smaller.” The man standing pouts. “But all is well. The Austrian army decided to order thousands of supplies, and it’s fortunate I even got my hands on one.” Patrick squints, trying to distinguish Ambrose, and it finally sets in. In a forest he doesn’t know of, with a man who has a gun in his hand in the dead of night. Not just any man but a Lord known for his physical fitness and hunting expertise since he was a just a lad. 

Fuck

“If this is about your lady, Ambrose, you can have her! There’s no need to do this!” Patrick tries to reason with the love-sick lord, yet it's no use. The other man scoffs, “I’ve always detested men like you, greedy, hypocritical. Ready to jump boat when things get too tough for your liking– where is your backbone? Where is your spine? Your pride?” Ambrose circles the pain-filled man on the ground. “You never deserved to even be in her presence; you aren’t even entitled to breathe the same air as her,” He then spontaneously kicks Patrick's ribs, causing him to curl up on a ball, yelping. Ambrose looks down at the pathetic man. “But, I am a fair man, unlike you, so I'll give you a chance to run while I read you the note I have written in your writing announcing your hasty departure after news of your rigging in the mills comes to light, your writing was not hard to duplicate as well; who knew mother’s penmanship lessons would come in handy,” He chuckles.

 “Now run, monkey, while you still can.” He sets the trigger and then turns the spindle of his gun clockwise till a clicking sound can be heard, indicating he doesn’t need to turn it anymore. Ambrose opens the barrel, puts in an 8.5 mm bullet, and then shuts it. 

“I’m sure we can talk this out reasonably, money! I have money! Have it all; buy your woman something nice-” Patrick feels his thigh get warmer at first rather than the pulsing pain of a bullet shooting through his thigh that would soon follow shortly after. He screams.“To think you have the naivety to think I couldn’t fund my lover for generations on end,”

Ambrose rolls his eyes. “Scream louder; perhaps you’ll awaken a bear to save you,” yet again, he starts reloading his wind gun, faster at that, “I am not one to repeat himself nor give mercy. Run, rabbit.”

With adrenaline coursing through his body, Patrick runs…or well, attempts to. 

 Ambrose reaches into his waistcoat for the forged letter, clearing his voice to read it while his other hand holds his gun. Though his attention should be on the task at hand, he is utterly distracted by possible outing plans you would adore. Shall he go canoeing with you? Or a picnic? A carriage ride underneath the newly blooming cherry blossoms? Why not all three?  

Oh, how he longs to see you again.

Notes: I'm gonna be so honest, romance is the hardest thing to write for me. It's probably noticeable, forgive me (⇀‸↼‶) I had to research a bit for this one, but it was a fun process learning more Regency lingo and gun history For my next full fic I was thinking a yandere! cannibalistic 50's housewife, but idk….hehe…if you have any ideas, send them to my inbox!! I'd like to say again THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!!! Reading all your kind words makes my little shy heart soar (o^ ^o) see you soon my little guppies!!

[teuanjo]

Every time I think about that shi I giggle

[teuanjo]

Imagine having a sleepover/movie night with yuuji itadori, and once he leaves to go to the bathroom u hide under the bed to scare him and when he comes out seeing that ur gone u watch as he gets all excited and runs in the closet to wait and scare u 😭

[teuanjo]

Sub!Choso x Reader

MDNI——collars leashes whip’s edging stomping humiliation blindfolds restraints gags overstimulation pegging taunting slapping blood play period sex {all mentioned}

Premise: Choso walked in on you and (bonus:) your date (sub!Nanami) and begs for his own collar.

Making it home after another morning shift, you’re stopped in front of your apartment door to punch in the numbers to the automated lock. You push your way in and thank your district manager finally let you have an opening shift. You swear people get dumber as the day goes on and by the end of the night your patience has worn thin. 

You’re still a sweetheart though, everyone knows you as being the mediator. The person to come to to see both sides and even additionally your own view of it to let them think over their problems, or options. Either way, you’d always keep things light. 

Any form of confrontation or conflict made you want to help fix it right away. But what do you do to help with the anger? Surely there was something else you’d do, like a hobby or something, to release the stress of harboring the most open mind, and basically know how it will go with the way you’d observe them silently.

Not many people would know about your fun pastime, not until choso walked in on you and you date one night. 

He surely was still trying to understand what he saw. That wasn’t a dream? Because it would make more sense if it were a dream, he knew for a fact. But it was something he just couldn’t stop thinking about, it had his balls blue. 

If he were to think about it he’d swell up immediately, the blood rushing to his cheeks and sadly but quickly creating a mess in his pants, he’d curse how much of a mess you now made of him. 

His quiet and caring roommate looked so out of place, but it was their room… “(Y/n)’s a sadist?” Just having him walk in on you was torture on him enough. You two knew each others schedules, and Yuki’s too as she’s the third to share the large studio together. Their brother-sister relationship, and you and her friendship, and you and him just being caught up in her world, living together just made things easier. Really it saved gas. 

It wasn’t like walking in on you while you were talking a no clothes shit. Or if you just got in the shower and the glass or mirror hasn’t steamed up yet. This was your best friends brother walking into your room, while you were dressed up in just pleather straps, having recognized that that was his youngest brother’s teacher, blindfolded and on his knees in front of you.

You wonder if he was still going to act weird about it. The best way to relieve yourself was just power play in general. You already knew it all, all possible ways situations can play out, you could tell what people will say, what their next action could be, it was already enough to make you so bored, or go crazy. 

It wasn’t like you were feigning your consideration towards others, but it’s the fact when they don’t listen. You tell what the next moves are, by the patterns of things and taking chances on how some days just don’t go as planned. That there will always be an element of surprise just when you thought you got the pattern down. 

You can talk and talk and talk, and explain finally what you mean, maybe you talked too much and it confused them… “That’s on them for not paying attention.” The supremacy you secretly held was upsetting. It was just fantasy, something that you had to figure out how to fix, “Maybe they just like to be hurt.” You thought one day, and that’s when it started. 

You’ve secretly become a sadist, it just made sense. Trusting you to carry out their most wicked fantasies and you love to help, making the experience fruitful by learning how bodies react to certain things. As they taught you what they liked, you found yourself domineering the sessions, and most of the time they don’t object. (Half of them are gagged up anyway.)

And with all that time, sure you may have thought about it once or twice but knew it’d be rude to be the one to ask if Yuki could third wheel in her own house. “It couldn’t be me to ask, and I shouldn’t anyway.” Even though you two were close, you still held out consideration for them to not ruin the dynamic, but the sight in front of her older brother had stopped him in his tracks. Your small pleather get up was something he couldn’t even dream seeing on you. 

Your leg was up in the bed, your date was kneeling, blindfolded and clothed but exposed. His dress shirt unbuttoned at the top with bites and hickies under his collar and his pants still on but his erection bouncing and begging for your touch. His mouth was open and waiting, tongue begging to taste you while you hold his blonde hair back, he silently thanks you for taunting him. 

Choso and your eyes met, but you didn’t move. It was kinda hot, no, it was really hot seeing him blush immediately. With how red he got, you were hoping he be brave enough to join. 

You weren’t embarrassed, that wouldn’t make sense of your dominating energy in the room. The mouth under you was panting into you, the heat hot on your other mouth, the wetness coming down your legs, you were enjoying the sudden intrusion so much that you pushed Nanami’s face into you. Not breaking eye contact with choso, his deer in the headlights look on his face while you were riding another man’s face just 10 feet away from him, it happened so fast get it took him forever gather himself to leave.

You could only chuckle as you know this was gonna be a weird talk later. Nanami was fucked stupid now. His rigid face was soft and teary. The rise and fall of his chest was so fast, not helping the oxygen going to his head. So drunk for you, mindless and trusting, he wanted it so bad but couldn’t take another whip or edging session. Though your dates were always bliss for him and you just loved your pets so dearly. 

————

You were sitting on the couch and he comes up to the doorway. Not looking up, you stay sitting at the couch in the living room. Anytime you’d go into your room again, it was almost like choso was just trying to prove himself wrong with what he saw. He was like a puppy who saw their owner in a mask, got confused and scared, and now is wondering if “that person” is ever going to come back. You were just finally showing him that this was you; Your cool attitude about all this made choso realize you were always like this. 

Competitive when the reward is high, loud and domineering in rooms when control is needed, usually calm and quiet like him but he thought, he thought you really were like him. 

He wasn’t weak, but he didn’t like to call the shots, he didn’t care to unless it was for his family. But everyone grew up and he was already content, visiting them whenever they could and living with you and your friend, his “sister”, Yuki. 

You’ve always wanted him under you like this he was such a boy failure literally clung to his sister at the hip, her being such a flirt to men but her girlfriends find it funny when she beats them up if they ever got mad, like hey they never asked her. To which she’ll make up silly things to taunt the poor fuck who thought they could fight her.

Choso though just always was the coolest. His piercings and new tattoos every other month were just so hot. But you weren’t gonna ruin him. That wasn’t your call, he didn’t know that about you but you could tell he was perfect. Whatever he thought of you is what has been holding him back from a world that was ready for him. 

————————————————

“Please,” You let him suck on your fingers as you work and pulled away when he got too greedy. He stopped afraid you’d pull away and be not in the mood anymore. You just reposition yourself opening your legs which he knew to get in his knees.

He’s crying again and thanking you for finally letting him eat. He’s been waiting for so long, it's probably just been a week and since he saw you and his brothers teacher, and then it took him (almost) 48 hours before he was trying to ask you to do that with him. He just couldn’t flirt for the life of him.

His tears make his face so wet and sloppy and his hair is a mess. His make up, you applied it over every time he messed it up, even when you didn’t touch him but he’d always find a way to make a mess. His sobs had his cheeks glowing, crying while you laugh bc it tickles, “That feels so good.”

His cheeks were soaked that he could close his mouth and basically motorboat the inside of your thighs, his lips rubbing on every part of you, side to side, while his cheeks stimulated the side of your innerds, touching you everywhere, enhancing the whole body feeling. 

His hands were around your hips to keep you from moving, which, he hopes you’ll punish him for later but he just needed it so bad. The needy whiny man was in front of you, just wanted a taste, and recieved the whole thing. Something tells you this would be the longest he’ll ever holdout for again. 

“You’ve been so good Choso,” You lean forward to give him a kiss on his wet cheek. You make sure your hand is dry before lightly fixing his hair, your fingertips sending shocks throughout his starved form. “I wanna see you under me, get on the bed.” 

He almost begs for another kiss before listening to you, going to lay in the middle of your bed, head on the pillow, but you look at him bored. You motion for him to sit up, as you cage him in on your knees, straddling the air. 

Choso almost bucks his hips forward just to feel your soft skin, just the smallest touch to know he wasn’t dreaming, or better yet he wanted to squeeze his own thighs together to create some kind of contact. His aching erection wanted nothing more than you, but placing a hand on his chest, tracing it down and tickling him, he arches forward at your touch, to which you slap his thigh sharply. 

“Hmm? Speak up baby, I can’t hear you.” You cooed. Now we’ve lost him, the man was babbling to himself, almost heaving and hyperventilating at the same time. His pants were long and drug out, and he couldn’t move. Subconsciously fearing you’d bring out the whip, like the one he’s seen on your bed, he freezes to just enjoy his situation a bit longer. “Come on, Choso,” Your fingers pinch his chin to face you. “Use your words.” 

You can only look down at him, he’s still crying, he can’t even speak, you don’t let him. Grabbing greedily at his waist, pulling it towards you, lifting his legs and spreading him open was such a treat. 

You knew to never have expectations of others bodies but his was better than you could have imagined.  The muscle and tattoos on his upper thighs were so hot, you get a good read of his body, the number of tattoos just confirm his masochism. 

You notice his face before he started to let loose. You grab at the sides of his throat and squeezed, cutting out his whimpers. It was amazing, those cute noises really ignited your hunger, you were surprisingly becoming satisfied.

You smear at and pick up his cum with your hand, using it to palm at his sensitive parts. He careened into your hand as you kept him hard and even rubbed under to get his balls. He gasps back and starts crying again. “Hey, pay attention.” He almost cums again as he watches you use the rest of his cum from your hand to wipe along your slit, to add to your wetness. You stare into his eyes. “Do you want to go first?” He uses this chance to flip you around. He hastily plunges into you and is so pathetic with his stroke game you laugh at him, he thanks you for letting him cum in you. 

You push his face off of you, grabbing him by his messy space buns you spit in his face and smear everything around. He pants and is so pussy drunk he’s only staring at you longingly after you keep a grip on his cheeks, finding a few seconds before he could find and stay focused on your eyes. As he was coming back, you decide to dig your fingers into his arms, enough to draw blood. He pants as it added a bit to his dying orgasm. You grip him and think how was life going to be like after this? 

Well that’s exactly what you asked him. He, being shy, and fucked silly was trying to regain the feeling in his face before remembering that this was just the beginning:

Sub!Choso waiting for you to come how everyday after work. 

Sub! Choso who usually knocks on your door lightly but with a raging hard on that he really needs you to help him out with.

Sub Choso who stays in the straps and keeps the toys you share in or stimulating him until you come back home. 

Sub! Choso melting at your touch and never letting you do anything around the house again.

Sub Chose who wants to have sleepovers and you two had to explain to Yuki that its just you two sleepover. 

Sub choso begging for you to touch him after a week bc of the last hasty move he did the other day had you decided to hold off and lock him out of your room. 

Completely abandoning him, bringing Nanami and another back to your room in front of him,

teasing him with wearing almost nothing around the house when yuki’s gone, you were going to ruin him,

that was the goal now If he just can’t hold back then you shouldn’t either.  

You who pinches Sub!Choso’s sides and nose when he comes off too needy, he cries for you and you honestly don’t know what you got yourself into. 

Sub choso who insists on doing everything with you, showering, being in the kitchen with you, and if you do allow him in your room, hell sit on the floor and wait to see if you want to use him.

Sub Chose who really likes to fuck you on your period bc that’s blood magic and he dabbles tf in that

Its basically a love spell, and he doesn’t care. He thinks it's a way to get closer to you without hurting you, not the way you’d claw at his skin or even lightly cut him sometimes just to lick up the wounds. 

Sub Choso always lowering himself around you bc he’s used to looking up at you

Sub Choso who gets jealous and asks why isn’t he enough to which you didn’t know his feelings were that deep so you two talk about your other pets, and what rules and other stuff going forward 

Sub Choso who decided to act out out one day, knowing that you would be holding off for a bit after how crazy the last session went, he was begging for your attention.

Sometimes you liked to see such a pathetic beautiful man beg for you at the end of a long day, but when you held off, he would become a mess. Not the kind to melt all over the floor, but he'd be more desperate for your touch, eyes always on you, almost like a stalker that you'd almost want to call Nanami back to show him what will happen if he keeps bothering you when you're trying to work.

That day he fucked up, you were on your way out to have some time to yourself. Maybe just sit at a cafe, or at a park, maybe even just find a high hill and watch the sky, but Choso was blocking your path

Sub Choso asking where you were going as it was your day off and you hadn't said anything to him about your plans for the day.

You tell him to be good and to let you have an hour or so to yourself. Hearing this he freaks out a little bit, his fists ball up and his voice was trying to leave his throat. "You're gonna go see him again aren't you? I don't like this game, that you can have as many and use them whenever."

I know you hate waiting Choso but its not like it's your turn and his turn. And by the way I'm not going to see him, but you could always find another mistress.

Sub Choso who refuses the very thought and walks towards you, grabbing at your hands desperately that it hurt, "No!" He turns his head to hide his face and holds onto you, not letting you leave.

You're very quiet, enough for him to finally look back at you and he realizes he cut you with his nails. The grip he had on you created semi purple blotches on your wrists, and you stood there not moving.

Sub Choso realizing what he just did and releasing your hands before falling down to your feet. He kneels as he watches your face, knowing what you do to him unprovoked already had him both excited and frightened, but this time he didn't even know how badly his body wanted you.

As he submits and shudders at what he's done, you make a rain check on that walk and drag him back to your room by his collar.

You had choso kneeling on the floor as you restrained his arms to his back, ignoring his pleads and sorry's. Your pets don't touch you like that. They don't do whatever they want without your approval, Choso knew that and acted accordingly, even if it got annoying sometimes. His dependency was so rich, it was like getting a new puppy.

In this case you were going to need the muzzle. This was no time for bargaining, he will learn what he did was wrong.

"I'm- (y/n), please, I'm sorry I just wanted you so bad I-" You slap him hard, fingers slapping against his cheekbone. He grunts as it stung, and continues his sorry's. "I really didn't mean to!"

You put the damn muzzle on him, having him bite down on the gag inside, you tighten the straps as Sub!Choso looks petrified, though still accepting his punishment.

There was nothing holding you back now, you were pissed. Your hands were your money makers, not to mention if one of /them/ start to overpower you, you could lose the title altogether. Like you were going to let a tantrum denounce you.

You have him strip and kneel again, whipping out his back and silently watching him wince and recoil at each thrash. You wanted his back red, this was just your warning.

Pointing his chin to look up at you, you place your foot down on his crotch and stepped forward. He hisses and throws his head around, his eyes finding your cold ones, pleading again with more than his usual frenzied state.

You draw your foot back and stomp on him this time. Tears formed and flowed, he sat there, still, taking it.

While his eyes were cringing to the horror happening to his privates, you take a fist full of his hair and yank his head forward, trying to make a judgement of what he deserved next.

You take your foot off his poor wood, but granting him no relief as you whipped at his chest and exposed thighs. The noises he made through his gag should have at least been enough to crack a smile out of you, but your wrists were still a little red, and when you get angry you're usually one to give them back what they dished out, and sometimes even more when you're feeling generous.

Easing your heel back onto him, having him hold his breath as he doesn't know if you were to stomp at any moment, torturing him with the anticipation as your head was somewhere else.

You havent tried this one thing, though you thought you would have by now. Stepping off again, you go to your closet and place a big enough leash on the poignant bastard and tugging him towards your bed.

You sit at the edge, bending him over your legs, you place a blindfold on him as well, not letting him know what you were about to do.

You grab the bullet, coating it with your spit before sliding it into his ass. The new sensation had him squirm, sensitive to how your fingertips traces the small of his back, he was getting a bit overwhelmed, not being able to see or yell out, much less move his arms still, you plunge the small machine further in him, "As long as its past his prostate." You thought. "I'll push it this time."

Sub!Choso is completely at your mercy, tied up, silences, bent over, whipped over and over, he was loving it. Scared at how quiet you were but this was the level of manhandled he would fantasize about.

It wasn't anything wrong with the way you did it before, but you still cared just a little bit, he felt your hesitation and wanted you to be as free as you wanted, proving right now that you're capable of leaving him bedridden for days.

Sub!Choso who yelps and gurgles through his gag as you turn the vibrator on. You test it out, pulling at the string to slowly bring it closer and closer to his prostate. You sure were going to tease the fuck out of him this way before putting on the strap.

Sub!Choso who lays on you, hugging you as tight as he could while recovering from the beating you gave his contemptible hole.

Sub!Choso who whispers his thanks, his appreciation, his admiration, just loving babble as he slips from this to sleep.

You tell him to shut up as you hold him closer to you.

[teuanjo]

Nanami at the My Chemical Romance reunion concert because no he didn't die before they got back together he totally travelled abroad and saw it and had a good time leave me alone

Followup to this

Credit for the photo is Brittany Thornton from a City Beat article "Everything We Saw the the My Chemical Romance Show at Heritage Bank Center"

(Because I tried to draw a crowd but it looked really bad so then I spent two hours trying to find a concert picture with this exact angle)

[teuanjo]

YANDERE JOCK 🏈

TW: OBSESSION, YANDERE THEMES, STALKING, MILD HARASSMENT, IMPLIED MURDER

(FEMALE CHEERLEADER READER)

Yandere! Jock who is convinced that the two of you are dating.

Yandere! Jock who is like a golden retriever but is a freaking beast on the field and absolutely crushes every game because he sees you cheering on the sidelines for him. When asked how he gets his wins, he says, "My girl is watching. Can't let her down."

Yandere! Jock who blows you kisses and waves even when you ignore him. He just loves you so much and is so happy when he spots you. Sure you might not always respond but the just means he has to try harder next time.

Yandere! Jock who doesn't care when you tell him to leave you alone. You're probably just in a bad mood but it's okay! He'll make you feel better!

Yandere! Jock who has the school also convinced that you guys are dating. He follows you around like a puppy and he always calls you 'my girl' so people naturally assumed you were together. Whenever you try to squash the rumors, he amps it up again.

Yandere! Jock who loves when people think you're together. He begs asks you to wear his letterman jacket so you have his name on you. He literally lights up if you wear it because it's cold or you want him to stop pestering you.

Yandere! Jock who only messes up during games when he stops to watch your cheer routine. If you're on top of a pyramid or some other dangerous stunt, he's rushing off the field to catch you. The football coach has since banned you from participating in any stunts.

Yandere! Jock who is glued to you so much that you slowly start to get used to his presence. He takes advantage of your indifference and tries to do more stuff to get you to acknowledge him. He carries your stuff, buys you lunch, drives you home and even walks you home when you don't want to enter his car. Sure, you don't exactly know he's walking with you but he's just looking out for his best girl!

Yandere! Jock who is so eager to see you, sometimes, that he's waiting outside your door first thing in the morning. What you don't know is that he's been there all night, staring at your window and waiting for you to wake up.

Yandere! Jock who bribes the cheerleaders to wingman for him. All of a sudden, your team is telling you what a sweetheart he is and how you guys look so great together. With all these people on his side, you have to give in sooner or later, right?

Yandere! Jock who finally asks you to be his girlfriend officially and is over the moon when you agree. If you thought he was clingy before, just wait. He's started leaving his things around for you to wear or carry like he's staking his claim on you. You have to explain the concept of personal space and alone time to him but he just stares at you in confusion. Why would you not want to be around him all the time? He loves being around you!

Yandere! Jock who runs up after every game to hug you, despite your protests because he's so sweaty. It's like a dog being so excited they just jump on you and lick all over you. His teammates have to drag him away to his dismay. He just wanted to give you a little kiss, why's everyone keeping you from him?

Yandere! Jock who let's you take charge, in and outside of the bedroom. Boy's just happy to be there.

Yandere! Jock who is clingy even in his sleep. He likes to lay on top of you so you can't slip away and leave him all alone. He's huge so it's like sleeping under a giant space heater. If it's too hot to cuddle, he pouts and whines when you tell him not to touch you at all. He still finds a way though, and sometimes you wake up to him holding your hand from across the pillow wall.

Yandere! Jock who is actually pretty harmless. He's like a giant puppy and isn't violent with the people around you. All he wants is your love and attention 24/7 and everyone is pretty much used to his antics to know where the line is drawn. That is, until a new person comes to school and starts making moves on you.

Yandere! Jock who is usually very friendly but is cold with only them and refusing to leave your side when they're near you.

Yandere! Jock who is in a great mood when they suddenly disappear without a trace.

A/N: Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed this! I personally this character he's adorable. If you want any headcanons or special requests, leave an ask too :)

@justabratsworld @pinkrose1422 (i feel like you'll like this oc lol)

#fav

[teuanjo]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

#fav

[teuanjo]

I saw how he looked in Hidden Inventory and knew his ass listened to MCR

#emo nanami

[teuanjo]

" 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — a confident athlete who turns into pathetic putty at the thought of you . . .

nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / masturbation / pervert yandere (he literally breaks into the locker room for your shit) / olfactophilia/osmolagnia (scent/smell kink) / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / breath play / yandere oc x reader

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: haven't wrote smut in awhile, so im a bit rusty . . .

Lucas dangled the keys in his hands, a grin playing on his face as he walked towards the locker room—using the key to unlock the door—it was pretty easy grabbing the keys from the janitor's room, not that this school was particularly secure with their locks. It would be pretty easy breaking in, if he tried hard enough . . 

Lucas scanned the area, looking through each locker trying to find which one was yours . . he had your lock combination memorized, though he did get a little help from a friend in order to figure it out.

His hands reached for the clothes that you had left in your locker, lifting it up to his face, eyes going half lidded as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, he felt his face growing warm and his body growing weak. Lucas leaned down onto the lockers for support, almost losing balance as he slid down onto the floor.

Lucas pressed the flimsy piece of clothing further onto his face, engulfing himself in your smell—so much so that he could almost taste you—all the while his other hand travelled downwards, clumsily unbuckling his pants in a hurry . . hasty movements contradicted his rational mind, not bothering to care if he'd get caught.

He slid his pants down, just enough to reveal his semi-hard cock—a soft whine escaped him at the feeling of the cold air—his free hand now teasing his tip, as he relaxed his body, closing his eyes shut . .—imagining how disgusted you'd be seeing him in this pitiful state— . . that really turned him on, he cussed under his breath at how pitiful and pathetic his thoughts were . .

Lucas wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down—his vision growing hazy—as he let out breathy sighs of pleasure—whines growing louder when he moved his hand faster.

Lucas stuffed the clothing he took, and pushed it into his mouth—drool escaped the corners of his mouth—blocking his ability make a sound, as he moved his hand faster around his cock—little tear droplets stinging his eyes, as he felt his legs shake slightly at the sheer pleasure—he used his now free hand to pinch his nose, closing his only source of air . . .

All he could taste was you, the clothing taking away all the moisture in his mouth, as tears begin to escape his eyes, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his clothing—his legs began to convulse—his back arching slightly, as he finally came, all over the floor . . .

Lucas spat out the fabric, "fuck", the bell rang . . How is he gonna clean up this mess fast enough? . .

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[teuanjo]

adventures of sugardaddy nanami kento and his frugal sugarbaby [pt. 1]

nanami kento x reader ; domestic fluff ; suggestive | [ pt. 2 ]

MDNI — 18+ interactions only

you were probably the most frugal sugar baby nanami had ever met. given you were the only sugar baby he'd met.

he heaved a heavy sigh as his quiet footsteps came to a stop several feet behind you. you were clad in nothing but a shirt two sizes too big, a thin layer of sweat on your skin shining in the yellow light that seeped into his kitchen, steam swirling through the air as you scrubbed away.

"you know i have a dishwasher, right?" he huffed almost disappointedly.

you squeaked a sound of confusion. "why would i use that when i could just wash them?" you tutted as if it was the obvious answer.

he draped his body over yours, melting into you. "because the dishwasher came with the place," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist, softly grumbling at the feeling of the small wet spots against your tummy. "i pay you to sit pretty, i didn't pay you to be a maid," he mumbled into your shoulder. "have you even bought anything for yourself with your allowance?"

a wide smile spread across your face, your posture perking against his weight. "yes!" you say proudly, "this dish rack and this scrub daddy!" you chime, holding up the yellow smiley face for kento to see.

your brows quirked into confusion as kento sucked in a slow, deep breath through his nose. "so... you bought me something?" he pointed out trying his hardest not to pinch the bridge of his nose.

you hummed in thought, "well technically i bought us something."

he seemed to slump heavier against you, "seriously, what am i to do with you?"

"praise me for my sound financial decisions and clean dishes?" you giggled, turning your head to plant a soft kiss against his cheek.

the grip around your midsection tightened, kento's body rapidly heating, "if it's praise you want, it's praise you'll get," his voice rumbled deep in his chest as he slowly pulled you away from the sink, uncaring that you weren't done yet. not even the running faucet was enough to keep him from pulling you back to bed so you can sit pretty exactly how he wanted.

A/N : idk if i'll make this a series tbh i just wanted to get this out. it got me through washing a mountain of dishes lol ahhh I was also itching to post bc I missed you guys

part 2 | nanami x reader masterlist | sugar daddy kento masterlist

divider

[teuanjo]

adventures of sugar daddy nanami kento and his frugal sugar baby [ pt. 2 ]

nanami kento x reader ; fluff & humor ; nsfw joke | [ pt. 1 ]

MDNI — 18+ interactions only

A/N : it's implied that reader is still attending school, whether that be college undergrad or grad is up to you; tldr: reader is over the age of 18

"darling, are you busy right now?" kento's voice dripped from the speaker of your phone like thick honey.

"nope, go ahead," you confirm that you have time to talk as you wipe the sweat off your brow, the summer sun and scalding water making your body temperature rise.

you could practically hear kento's brows furrow, "are you sure? you sound a distance away and I can hear the water running," he said suspiciously.

you cringed, holding your breath as you slowly slid the plate onto the rack only to cringe at the sharp hiss of ceramic skidding against metal.

"I thought you started using the dish washer," kento sighed, the creak of his office chair putting the image of a disappointed kento leaning back in his chair in your head.

"I don't trust it, kento!" you cried dramatically. you would've clutched at your heart if your hands weren't soaking, sparkling glasses weeping on the rack at the mere thought of being thrown in satan's machine.

a staccato sigh and your muffled chuckles filled the kitchen. "anyway," kento continued, "I was wondering if you had the energy for something public." he asked, always considerate of your social battery.

you blotted your hands against the hand towel that hung from the oven door's handle, humming happily as you reached for the nice hand lotion kento had gotten for you, worried about the state of your hands considering the temperature of the water you habitually used. "why? is this some secret exhibition sex club thing that you rich people have?" you teased.

"I want to treat you to an outing since you refuse to do it yourself," kento poked back, speeding passed your joke, already used to your antics.

"oh, not denying it? does it actually exist?" your eyes widened in feigned suspicion, a weak attempt at changing the subject.

"do you know why I started looking for a sugar baby?" kento continued. you sucked in a breath only to be cut off, "nevermind... don't answer that." kento sighed, making you chuckle. "I wanted someone to enjoy spending my money. I lost that kind of excitement a long time ago, so you don't have to hold back. you can ask me for anything that will make you happy, okay?" he explained, sincerity oozing from his voice.

you nodded as you listened, ears perking up towards the end. "anything?" you parroted drawn out and timid.

౨ৎ

kento scrubbed his hands against his scalp, blond locks effectively spiking in every direction. you were both sat next to each other at the dining table, crowding around your laptop-- the one you'd refused to replace, deadset on it lasting you at least another four years despite the volume the fans worked being loud enough to wake kento from his sleep. kento sat defeated, chin digging into his palm as he stared into the abyss while you wore a gleaming smile on your face, excitedly knocking against the table as you waited for your prehistoric machine to load.

once the confirmation screen popped up you wrapped your arm around kento's, pulling him in close. "you were right, kento! spending all this money is fun!" you chimed, wiggling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

kento stared at you with glassy eyes. "I don't know what to do to make you understand," he croaked. "was this really fun for you?" he softened as he took in your features and how much more energized you seemed after just a few clicks.

when he got home from work you'd dragged him to the table, pulling up the tragic student loan debt page, eagerly asking him if it was really okay to spend this much all at once. he'd paid off your loans and the remaining balance of your current semester. you felt like you were floating, to say the least.

kento was more than happy to pay these debts off, but he'd assumed that if you had any they would've been your first priority, not a scrubdaddy and a dish rack. he deflated once again at the mere memory.

you chuckled fondly at the display, reaching to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "fine, fine. let's go."

his brows knit tightly as you input the address into his phone, sticking it to the dash before securing your seatbelt. you had him park a bit away from a 7-eleven. he followed you hesitantly, watching as you hummed quietly to yourself, a bounce in our step as the two of you took a short walk down to akihabara station. you stopped with your arms spread in a grandiose gesture, the wall behind you stacked floor to ceiling with gashapon machines.

"i've always wanted to try one of these, but the probability that I would get what I wanted on my first try was always slim." you explained as your eyes scanned the wall for a specific capsule series. you held your palm open asking for coins which kento handed to you with a gentle smile.

he watched you for who knows how long. the capsules kept coming, countless duplicates filling his arms. and it was worth it to see your smile, bright and unashamed, every time you popped a capsule open.

"ah, finally!" you cheered as you turned to kento, a small plastic sandwich in the palm of your hand, the same sandwich he got everyday for lunch.

his heart overflowed, spreading heat across his chest. you'd gone through all that work just to get his sandwich. even given the opportunity to do something for yourself you still thought of others, but you were happy and that was enough for him.

"come, come! I think I saw one that had a desk like the one in your office." you beamed, eyes busy searching for the machine with every intention to set these figures up in the corner of your own desk. somewhere along the way kento left you for a moment just to stop by a store for a bag, dumping all your gachas in it until you got exactly what you were looking for. a smile plastered on his face as you continuously loaded coins into the machine.

he rests a hand on your thigh on the drive home, pinching it just enough to grab your attention. "thank you," he whispers, bringing your hand to his face to kiss at your knuckles. thank you for showing him all the small happiness the world had. he had a lot to learn from you.

part 1 | sugar daddy kento masterlist | jjk men x reader masterlist

divider by @tyuniwa

tag list : @that-goth-bisexual @yannauauau

[teuanjo]

Nanami <3